Storm Before the Calm

Well, tonight is the first of 3 consecutive nights at Kroger. Bummer. It's not really that I don't enjoy what I do--because that's not the case. It's just that days that involve a Kroger shift are essentially like a 12-13 hour day, with an hour 'regular' lunch at Blockbuster and a short 20-25 minute break in between jobs. String 2-3 days like this together, and you have somebody that is VERY much ready for an off-day, or at least an off-night.

The beauty of this week's schedule is that I finish it on a mini-vacation of sorts. Leah and I are leaving Friday morning to drive to Louisville to spend the weekend at my dad's. We always have a blast when we go on trips like this.....We make awesome travel partners. I told her a week or so ago that sometimes I think I look forward to the trip more so than I do the actual destination. We're usually karaoke-ing (heck, I don't think I've ever tried to add -ing to the word karaoke) to CDs or coming up with new version, chatting up random subjects, and taking our shoes off and putting feet on the dash. At least, the passenger is. We have some vivid memories of road trips--such as sitting in my SUV behind a KFC in Texas (on our way to Dallas), making tuna fish sandwiches with stuff we had brought from home. Or driving across the raised highway in Louisiana over Lake Ponchartrain, amazed that were no exits to speak of (unless you go about 30 feet DOWN!). Leah also insists that the Dr. Peppers out of the machine that is at the "middle" rest area between Memphis and Nashville are better than any other Dr. Pepper she has ever had.

Anyway, I've digressed. Told you I was looking forward to it! Suffice it to say that I will be very much unavailable for the next 2+ days (and nights!). More on the Lousville trip later, I'm sure....but for now, I've got to go find a quick bite to eat before having to punch in at Barney H. Kroger's.

Uh Oh.....Ten Minutes Til Wapner

Tomorrow morning, I'm going to uncharted waters. While somewhat confident in the outcome, I still hold a bit of nervousness about it. I love America, and most systems that we have in place are great--I just hope that I feel the same way about it tomorrow. I'm talking about...the legal system.

You see, I am transforming myself, albeit unwillingly, from regular ole Eric C Russell to Defendant Eric Russell in the case file something, docket number whatever. Ouch. So at 10:30 tomorrow morning, I get to show up and throw myself on the mercy of the court--literally.

My ex-neighbor is suing me for her insurance deductible. Suppose that your neighbor has a really big tree in their yard--you know, one of those huge, 100-year old ones with limbs that go on forever. Imagine that one of those substantial, heavy limbs were to fall off and hit your car, most likely causing damage. As upset as you were, maybe frustrated and ticked off, you probably wouldn't go knock on your neighbor's door and insist that he pay your $250 deductible for having it fixed, right?

That's essentially what my neighbor is doing. I had a washing machine hose burst in the middle of the night, causing water damage to most of my carpet and some of my neighbor's (I have an attached, "townhome" style place). Apparently it is standard practice for all insurance companies to consider them two separate dwellings, even though they share a common wall. Well, it seems Miss Neighbor never felt the need to pay her deductible, choosing instead to insist that 1) it was my fault, and 2) I called the people out to do the work anyway. Of course, I'm thinking she could've always said, "No thank you--I don't want you touching my wet carpet. I'll take care of it myself." But suddenly her deductible has more than doubled b/c of late fees, finance charges, etc. and you know who she expects to pay it for her? You guessed it.

At this point, I'd like to sing the praises of my insurance company, Tennessee Farm Bureau. They pitched it to their legal team, and I'm anxious to meet this lawyer who thinks this lawsuit is a insane as I do. For those of you wondering, this case is about negligence. If I was negligent in causing damage (and she could prove it), it would be a different story. But the burden of proof is on the Plantiff, and let's hope that the Judge sees it that way. If His/Her Honor does, there's an image of a snowball and really hot weather that come to mind...

UPDATE: I win! I win! Yo gano! Rule number 1: If you're representing yourself (or if no lawyer wants to take your case b/c it ain't worth their time), watch every episode of Perry Mason, or Divorce Court......heck, maybe read Inherit the Wind. But do something so that you know what you're doing and don't look like some blooming idiot in the courtroom.

Obtaining an official transcript would take too long, so I'll provide a pithy summary of the proceedings. It is public record, so I suppose I'm not doing anything illegal here. PL = plaintiff, DA = defense attorney (i.e., my attorney), and HH (His Honor, the judge)

HH: M'am, you're representing yourself. You can call a witness, such has him, or just get up here and tell us what you want us to know. But the defense counsel has the right to ask follow-up questions, which is called cross-examination.

PL: It doesn't matter--they can go first.

HH: That's not what I said. You're here to provide your proof. It's your lawsuit. I'm not here to coach you and ask you questions. 'Tis your responsibility. That really wouldn't be fair to this other seasoned lawyer, now would it?

PL: Well, Mr. Russell's washing machine hose burst, and he was kind enough to call me, and nice enough to come help me move some furniture out of the way, and nice enough to send this water extraction company over to my house after they finished his. He was ver apologetic and said he was sorry and said he'd take care of it, and the woman from said water extraction company heard him say it but she couldn't be here today because she doesn't work for them anymore.

HH: Is that it? That's everything you want us to know?

PL: Yes, your Honor.

DA: Your Honor, I make a motion to dismiss.

HH: I'll have to agree with that. I rule for the defendant.

(turning to PL and beginning judicial tongue-lashing for making a complete fool out of herself, and tellin her she can appeal within 10 days)


The beauty of all this was that you didn't see me mentioned anywhere in the dialogue. The only thing I had to say under oath was "I do" when asked if I swore to tell the truth, the whole truth.....so help me God. I'm not too sure the outcome wouldn't have been the same had the plaintiff had a lawyer, but this just made it a lot easier. As a matter of fact, my lawyer said that he always tries to think of it from the other side--That is, if he were the prosecuting attorney in the case, how would he have done it? He admitted that he would've had problems prosecuting it. So, Scotty...As much as you were joking when you said it, in my opinion it was pretty close to being a frivolous lawsuit (maybe you should change majors and start practicing law?!).

Welcome, Any & All BBC Folks!

In case anybody shows up over here from Erin's blog, wondering who I am and why you're here, I thought I'd say hello and welcome you to my blog. Kick back on the Front Porch and enjoy some sweet tea.

Obviously I'm not a member of Bartlett Baptist (or you'd be telling me that I'm much more athletic and funnier than Steve), but here's a short bio and where in the family tree I'm connected to Steve(n) (I don't know what he goes by these days).

Short bio:

Steve and I are cousins on my father's side. His dad, my late Uncle Mike was my dad's only brother. 1996 was a very tough year for us, but I think Steve will agree with me that we all came out of that year hugging tighter and a bit more often. I'm the oldest of the four Russell grandchildren, but he beat me to the marriage and having children thing (more on that in a minute).

I was born and raised in Memphis. Graduated from White Station High in 1991, and attended Vanderbilt University (fell in love with Nashville, by the way). After becoming a "financial casualty" of Vandy, I came home, began working, and started attending University of Memphis when I could. Currently I'm a "10th year Senior" with about 30 hours remaining on a Bachelor's. Most likely, a major in Math with a minor in Spanish.

I was a lifelong member of Merton Ave Baptist (you might've heard Steve refer to it a time or two); I think I grew a lot spiritually during my high school years b/c I was so grounded in an awesome youth department and church activities. I attended Centrifuge at Ridgecrest, Gulf Shores, and Carson Newman, and loved every minute of it. At my last Centrifuge (12th grade, at Carson Newman), my bible study leader asked me to give my testimony in front of everybody (the entire camp--probably 800-1000 youth). I didn't really understand why a 'normal' testimony was so important, but at that time I think I realized that it was.

I attended many Dawson McAllister Conferences, first at the old Bellevue location, and later at Central Church. I think those conferences fired me up more than anything, and gave me the confidence to be a Christian in a huge high school that wasn't.

My wife and I married in October of 2002 after dating for 5 years. We joined Faith Baptist Church last January, and love it. Bro. Danny is incredible. Currently Leah and I are expecting our first child in December, and I'm blogging a journal to document our experience.

My parents are divorced. Mom lives here, in the Berclair area, and Dad & Mary (my step-mom) live in Louisville, KY. I have one brother (the same age as Steve's sister Kristi) who lives in Hyattsville, MD, on the north side of Washington, DC. We have two cats, Grizz and Sherwood, and a 4-month old cocker spaniel named Calle.


There you go..........The life and times of Eric Russell, in a nutshell. I know how very much Steve enjoys the fellowship at Bartlett, and all of you seem like incredible folks. Maybe I can meet you all one day! I'll leave you with one of my favorite verses, which was also my senior quote in high school:

Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity. I Tim 4:12

P.G.A. - Pretty Good Afternoon

If I was some really geeky techno-dork who could've live broadcast some kind of webcam (a la ED TV) on Tuesday, you probably would've seen me smiling from ear to ear. Here's why:

Scott's brother Jeff was in town, and we decided to get together and play golf Tuesday afternoon. Golf is a funny, funny sport. Not ha ha funny, but funny in such a complex way that I can't think of any other sport to compare it to. You can go out, play the crappiest round of your life. No decent drives, horrible putts, etc etc. But let's say that on one hole (out of 18), you make a perfect, sweet-spot drive down the middle. Or make a 80 foot putt for 9 on a par 3. If you carded a 123 for your score that day, logic tell you that 122 shots were horrible, and that one was not. But that one shot keeps you from putting the clubs up on eBay and calling it quits.

And it's a catch-22. If you play once a week (we call them "weekend duffers", because most folks with a normal schedule can only play on Saturday and Sunday), you really don't get to practice enough to get good. To be great and consistent in golf, you have to do it a lot. But yet when you go out and play, it's so easy to get frustrated because you aren't any good!

For golfers, it's about reaching milestones. First, it's probably breaking 100. And then 90. And so on, and so on. All things even--playing conditions, difficulty of the course, etc--most golfers maintain a pretty steady average (bowling is a similar example). I've broken 100 a few times in my life, but never really been able to shoot decent enough scores on the front and back 9 to do much better than that. Sometimes it's a 56 on the front and a 47 on the back (geez, 2 47's would've given me 94, but it took me 9 holes to warm up, apparently). I consider anything 46-49 (for 9 holes) decent and 41-45 great for my skill level. I've shot 42 or 43 a time or two, but again, never twice in the same day). My previous best round, at Orgill Park, was 90.

Tuesday was my day. I started with a 6 on the par 4 1st. No big deal, just don't get frustrated and "trust your swing", as the TV announcers say. Avoid the bad holes with a 9 or 10 that pretty much screw up a otherwise decent round (ask John Daly). Bogey 5 on the 2nd. Par 4 on the 3rd. Sweet drive on #4, and a 2-putt for bogey. Tee shot on the green on # 5 (a par 3), and a 2-putt par. Don't look now, but I'm having a VERY decent 9. After all was said and done--a 41. Hopefully the PowerAde in the clubhouse at the turn won't put any bad karma into me. I was thinking to myself, "Even a 45 on the back gives me an 86--my best round ever!" A par on #10, and mostly bogeys on the back nine. Once I hit a decent tee shot on #18, I started to feel like I was Phil Mickelson at the Master's. I wish I could've made a few more par or birdie putts, but I was ecstatic. The result--a 42 on the back 9, for a total of 83.

Not only had I beaten a personal best, I had done so by shooting an 83. It felt great. Maybe I've found something about my swing that allows me to duplicate consistency. Or next weekend I may go out and shoot one of my famous 106's. Time will tell. But for now, I'll keep playing the game, and remembering how it felt to shoot the round of my life.

Can The Smiley Frown?

Well, remember my post awhile back about how much I hate Wal-Mart and love Target? It seems America is catching on! You see, in my humble opinion, Wal-Mart is usually a retail version of a junk yard, with extremely poor service. Recently, Leah and I were standing in their maternity section, and noticed no less than 3 or 4 piles (either on the floor, or in a bascart) of returns, backstock, to-be-stocked, random decoration...who knows what. All within about a 10 foot radius of where we were standing, and most of which was in the main walking aisles between clothes racks. What a mess!! If you don't believe me.......Pick a section. Toys. Electronics. Lawn and Garden--it really doesn't matter. And then note the difference between Target's and Wal-Mart's. And waiting in line to check out--doesn't happen at Target. I would say that Leah and I have NEVER, EVER waited more than 3-4 minutes to get checked out at Target. Take your stopwatch next time you're at Wal-mart, especially on Saturday.

Look, right there in the AP article, straight from the pages of the Commercial Appeal (I'll save you the trouble of having to register on their site):

The world's largest retailer, which only a few years ago could do no wrong, is now suffering from the kind of problems that have plagued weaker rivals like Kmart: cluttered stores, merchandise that turned off shoppers, and poor service. Meanwhile, Target Corp., while some six times smaller than Wal-Mart, is setting a new standard for discount retailing. (my emphasis).

And I love how Wal-Mart's blaming high fuel prices. Where does Target get their gas? Let's see......for the 1st quarter, Wal-Mart's same-store sales were up 3%, while the same stat for Target was 7%. Maybe America is wising up, and deciding that random junk combined with crappy service with a frown ain't cutting it.

A 3 Hour Tour

So my appointment was set: 9:40AM on Tuesday was the day to go back with my blood pressure "homework" in hand, and let the doctor tell me how disappointed she was in my family history and give me something to fix it. Didn't think it would take that long--relatively early appointment, not much to say, somewhat empty waiting area. Write me a prescription, and I'm outta there. Yeah, right. Hang on to that dream, dude.

I get there a bit early--around 9:15ish. I'm not trying to get ahead of the 9:20 appointment or anything, but I figured it can't hurt. I sit down and look at a really old magazine (surprise, surprise), and after awhile I notice it's been 45 minutes, and then an hour. Nothing. Are you kidding me? Then, I hear it. "Eric Russell." Some little curly-haired chickadee sabotoged my chart by taking my blood pressure, and I'm convinced she didn't know what she was doing. I've been recording my own for about 2 weeks, and the average was about 145/106 or something around that. You know what she gets? Try 163/120. Of course, that's what she writes down. "How tall are you?" Heck, I don't know! I hope this girl doesn't ever wait on our newborn, cause she'll never get an answer.

After that, it was, "Well, we don't have any rooms right now, so go back to the waiting area, and we'll call you." Uh oh, that can't be good. Finally, at 11:00--ELEVEN O'CLOCK--I get called back. Of course, then I'm sitting in that room aging some more for about 35 minutes before Dr. Slowpoke comes in (says, "Thanks for your patience"....as if!), asks me about my family history, how much salt I use, if I drink a lot of coffee/coke, and then gives me some drugs.

All in all--I was out of there by about 12:15 or so. I know that doctor's offices aren't exactly the efficiency capital of the world, but that was a little ridiculous. I was very close to walking up the counter and saying, "May I please have my co-pay check back? This is uncalled for." But I didn't. Does anyone ever complain at the doctor's office? You know, like you do at Olive Garden? One more episode like that, and I'm outta there. The only thing that kept me in a good mood was my afternoon golf opportunity.

That's What I Love About Sundays

Sorry about the late post......I intended to get this posted on Monday, but never got around to it. Yesterday I was pretty much busy from morning til evening (more on that later), so here it is.

Sunday was a classic Sunday. In a good way. It definitely took me back to my childhood and kinda forced me to say to myself, "This is how Sundays should be." Of course, I'm expecting a child now, so that really has nothing to do with growing up, but you get the point.

First up...Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls for breakfast. Certainly not the most nutritious, but a quick and definitely tasty breakfast. Growing up, that was pretty much the Sunday morning staple. Yummy (I actually had a bowl of Raisin Bran to go with it, but the cinnamon rolls were the highlight).

Next, it was off to Sunday School and worship. Good service, and Leah sang in the choir for 2nd and 3rd services. After a bit of an absence, I think some of her choir-mates were happy to have her back in the soprano section.

After church, home to eat lunch. Of course, when we walked in the door, we had the wonderful aroma of a slow-cooked roast that had been on since about 11:00PM Saturday night. Mmmmm, I definitely wanted to grab a fork and get a "sample," but that wouldn't have been nice. Leah's parents and brother were come over after they got out of church, so the anticipation was horrible. Before all was said and done, we had roast, mashed potatoes, peas (cooked in the pressure cooker), and rolls. And don't forget the sweet tea. That meal was so good, it almost invokes a desire to slap one's maternal object. Oh yeah, and I had made a spice cake (w/ cream cheese frosting) with the help of Duncan Hines--that was dessert.

After everybody left, it was time. Talk about something I haven't done in a LONG time. First, let me go back to my childhood. Mom used to make us lie down for a nap just about every Sunday. Obviously, we hated it. We swore up and down that were weren't tired and didn't need it. She say something like, "Well, then just lay there fore a while and rest." Of course, most of the time we'd wake up after an hour and a half and then have to deal with that inner feeling of being wrong and admitting that mom was right. So anyway, naptime was an every Sunday deal. I've said many times that it's ironic that somewhere along the line, you make this transformation from "Please no! Don't make me take a nap!" to "Gosh, if I could just lay down and take a nap!" I couldn't tell you how long it's been since I've done that. I'm either working at Kroger, or watching football, or maybe doing something to the house, or washing the car. But I laid down around 2 or 2:15 and woke up at 5:05 (funny b/c the digital clock kinda looked like it said, "S:OS"). Unbelieveable. I had taken a 3-hour nap, and I felt refreshed. I kinda worried that the long nap might keep me from falling asleep that night, but that wasn't a problem either.

I don't really think that naps will resume their traditional hold on my house (ESPECIALLY in December when a certain infant arrives), but that one sure was nice. As much as I hate to admit it sometimes, I guess Mom was right. But as a 7- or 8-year old, I never would've believed it.

Do We Know . . . Moe?!

Fridays are great, especially if I don't have to spend that evening at Kroger. At work (i.e., Blockbuster), it's as if everyone comes in and says to themself, "It's Friday...I'm gonna slow down the pace a bit today." I'm not saying that I get to work and play Minesweeper and Solitaire all day, but it is noticeably more "laid back" on Fridays. Not to mention, a few people were out on my side of the building, so it was quite quiet.

For lunch, I waited til about 12:45 or so before deciding to go solo. Friday is kinda the designated group lunch eat-out day, but nobody had said anything, so I was outta there and starving. I decided upon Moe's Southwest Grill, where I had a Joey Bag of Donuts burrito. Lo and behold, who approaches me in line, but Wally of Wally's World. Not "the" Wally World, but Wally Green of WMC-TV5 fame (Actually, what caught his attention was my Cubs #23 Ryne Sandberg jersey--he was gonna take a picture w/ his cell phone for his brother and fellow Cubs fan Brent). It was good to see him and Jules--the last time Leah and I bumped into them, we were at Super Target, just a 5-iron or so from where we were. They graciously allowed me to join them for lunch, and we talked about everything from us being pregnant to the World Championship BBQ Cooking Contest. Apparently Mr. Green and 25 of his closest friends have fielded a team, Trailer Pork, in this year's competition (in the ribs category). Their slogan is "Double-wide pride"--that cracks me up. As a matter of fact, as soon as he took his wife back to work, he was returning to Tom Lee Park for the festivities. What a bum. But if you got any extra shirts, dude, I'd gladly wear it with (double-wide) pride. Hey, my grandparents used to live in a trailer--ask Steve!!

Then it was back to work and await 5:00. Then a quick trip to the grocery store and to Blockbuster (my total bill for two rentals was, oh yeah, ZERO, because I work there). Then it was home for dinner with Leah, and then off to Babies R Us to do some looking.

Quiz: The title of this entry is from a recent movie (i.e., less than 3 years old) whose lead actress grew up in Nashville. The first person (besides my wife) to email me with the correct answer (movie title) wins a $5 Kroger gift card. Hey, gimme a break.....This is a free, not-for-profit website!!

Drug Rehab

I had this very mild headache most of yesterday, and woke up with it this morning. I'm wondering if it is a side-effect of my withdrawal of that common drug--caffeine.

Leah has begun drinking decaf tea because of her pregnancy. Until a few days ago, I still made regular (i.e., caffeinated) tea for me and a decaf batch for her. As all loyal Front Porch readers know, I am currently tracking my blood pressure. I got up Monday morning, having not had any caffeine in 12 hours or so, and my blood pressure reading was 5-10 points lower than it had been. Off the cuff, Leah said, "I wonder if it would do you any good to chill out on the caffeine."

A quick internet search does lend a bit of credibility to her suggestion. Apparently if you have normal blood pressure, caffeine doesn't really do anything. That is, it might cause it to briefly spike after having it, but it doesn't really push you into hypertension or anything. However, studies show that people with high-normal or moderately high blood pressure do tend to react more to caffeine. Of course, this morning's reading was a bit higher than yesterday's, but that might be because Leah was trying my patience. : ) Just kidding.

So, no caffeine since about 6:00 Monday night, and I get a headache yesterday. I guess I'll try to prove my hypothesis by drinking a Dr. Pepper. I suppose that going from 4-5 glasses of fegular tea per day to ZERO caffeine might be throwing myself into shock of some sort. It's all about moderation, I guess. Time will tell.

O Brother! Where Art Thou?

Ever had one of those weekends that you were looking forward to being a nice, calm, relaxing one, only to have it evaporate before your very eyes, leaving you feeling cheated on Monday? That's pretty much how last weekend was.

As previously mentioned, I had worked 5 of 6 nights through last Thursday, so I was definitely looking forward to the weekend. I know it was Mother's Day and all that, but we had already done the Hallmark card selection and only had to run out and make the quick purchase for our mothers (Leah had specific ideas, so there was at least a plan).

Friday night was actually VERY calm (the calm before the storm, if you will). We were both kinda undecided about what to do for dinner, and Leah was tired--both from a busy day at the bank as well as the whole pregnancy thing (which is a great time to mention--don't forget baby-related updates at russellbaby.com!) At about 7:45P, Leah said, "I'm gonna go lay down." Uhhh, OK honey. Do you realize it's only 7 o'......never mind. I found a baseball game to watch (Jeff's Braves, I think), and warmed up some Coletta's leftovers for my dinner. A couple of hours later, Leah was up and fixing her some munchies, but not too long after that we were off to sleep.

Saturday and Sunday were an entirely different story. Leah was getting a glider rocker from me for Mother's Day, which still had to be assembled. I hatched a plan to do so when she and her mom went to get their nails done (a bi-weekly Saturday morning event). So as soon she left, I did my best Santa impersonation and retrieved it from my TrailBlazer. After making a couple of careless mistakes due to vague instructions and the "Made in China" label, I finished with a few minutes to spare. Leah was back home and we were ready for Mother's Day gift-purchasing.

First up--lunch. We love this place called Roly Poly, but the only one in town is @ Mendenhall and Sanderlin, in the shadow of Clark Tower and the Racquet Club. Not being one to upset a pregnant woman (or fail to uphold my "you spoil your wife" reputation), it was a no-brainer and that's where we went.

Leah wanted to build a small "grandmother"-sized diaper bag for Mom and Donna, filled with a few baby supplies. We've discovered that we can pretty much play the baby card anytime for the next 7 months (30 weeks, to be exact) and melt their heart. So it was on to Babies R Us. When we arrived, we noticed that they had some kind of event going on, and further investigation revealed that it was some kind of safety 'fair' put on by the Mid-South ChildSafe Coalition or something like that. I really thought it might be "Childcare for Dummies", like people telling us that smothering your baby with great-grandmothers afghan isn't a good idea. But, I must say, I'm glad we chose to participate--some of the info was basic (e.g., change smoke detector batteries twice a year), but there were lots of good reminders, and best of all--free stuff. At the end of the day, we had a free smoke detector, auto window sunshade, children's bike helmet, and a device made by Mattel to see if a toy is a potential choking hazard.

Oh yeah, we weren't here for the safety fair? That's right! On to the non-free stuff. We found two identical bags (marked down!) and filled them will Johnson & Johnson bath set, pacifier, a bottle, a bib, a single diaper, baby wipes, and who knows what else. Several dollars later, we're out the door. And I'm thinking I need to call Kroger and request more hours. : ) We got home, put together our little gift bags, and eagerly awaited their presentation.

Saturday night involved dinner at home, and awaiting a call from Kristi and Joe. They were given a practically new bed when they were in Tupelo (where Joe's parents live) and he needed some help unloading it. So we went over there and pretended we were "Two Men and Ford Ranger" moving company.

Sunday we got up and went to Sunday School and worship at our church and were out by 11. After a quick stop by the house, we were off to Dixie Cafe for lunch. Mom gets out of church at 11:30, and the Blaylocks get out at 12ish or whenever Leah's dad quits preaching (whichever comes later). By the time the whole crew assembled, I think Leah and I had been at the table waiting for 45 minutes or so, which might've annoyed the waitress. She never really indicated that she was ticked off or anything, but I tried to compensate her some with the gratuity since we were there for an inordinate amount of time. I don't know what everybody else tipped, but hopefully it was fair. By the way, our moms LOVED the diaper bag. Perfect choice.

Home by 2:30 or 3, I decided to wash Leah's car. After that was done, I chilled out for a bit, and then Kristi and Joe came over to grill out some burgers. A good time was had by all, and then we chilled out on the couch and watched a "blast-from-the-past" type show on VH-1 on the year 1998. I had forgotten all about Furby!!

And because I washed Leah's car, it rained Sunday night and most of Monday.

Don't Bet On It

Well, the 131st running of the Kentucky Derby is in the books. Of course, I'm not really into horse racing, but having a dad & step-mom that lives in Louisville (only a few miles from Churchill Downs, actually) certainly adds to the information availability and somewhat curiosity. Often there is so much stuff going on in and around Louisville--the event is actually a 2-week festival that culminates with the race--it's hard to not wish you were there to witness it. It seems like every year, I say to myself, "Self, at least one time, I'd like to go--just to experience it."

So here's why I'm not a betting man. Sure, there are favorites that win. That's true in any sport. Today's winner, Giacomo, was at 50-1 odds. In other words, if you walked up the window and said, "I'd like to bet 50 bucks on Giacomo, the teller would probably ask you 3 times if you were sure, and then hand you a card for her favorite psychiatrist. But alas, the super-underdog won. I stumbled across CNNSI.com's Derby anaylsis page, and you wanna know what they had to say in their little blurb about this horse?

It's hard to imagine why he's in the race, except that his owners clearly have a case of Derby Fever.

"...hard to imagine why he's in the race." How about 1,639,600 clams? Good enough reason for me.

Dealing with BP

Batting Practice? The fuel people? Nope. I'm sorry to say............blood pressure. Remember when I went to the doctor to have the pain in my side checked out? Well, a by-product of my going was the nurse saying, "Geez, your blood pressure is kinda high--the doctor will check it again when she comes in." Uh oh.

You see, apparently the hearts in our family came out of the bargain bin at Wal-Mart. I don't know what it is, but I've essentially got double-whammys on both sides of my family to point to the need to take the utmost care of my heart. My maternal grandfather died of a massive heart attack at age 59. Maternal grandmother has had a couple of very mild heart attacks. Paternal grandparents both had heart surgeries, replaced valves, etc. Dad's brother died at age 45 after a heart attack. Dad has high blood pressure. Good thing I don't smoke cigarettes like my brot....never mind.

So the doctor says that they don't prescribe any meds on the first visit, and to track it for a couple of weeks and then come back with the results. Oops. Being that I don't live with a nurse, and most of my time consists of working and sleeping, I just haven't found, er, made, the opportunity to do so. Then some friends and coworkers suggested a home blood pressure monitor. Seems like a good idea, and I really do need to get it taken care of. So I bought it this morning (a Kroger-branded one made by those fine folks at Omron). The first reading? 152 / 106. Ouch. That's not THAT bad, is it?! OK, maybe it is. But being that I have a son/daughter on the way, the last thing I wanna do is be in poor health. It's not about me anymore. So stay tuned, and I commit to all friends, family, loved ones, and loyal blog readers to "stay the course" (thousand points of light) and report progress in the near future.

And by the way, free blood pressure checks at my house. Call before you come.

Home Sweet Home

Tonight I get to enjoy the night off. Whew! Working two jobs certainly has its advantages--namely the extra dough--but there are certain downsides to it that sometimes make me really have to struggle to find the motivation to continue punching in.

On a normal Kroger night, I get home from Blockbuster around 5:45 or 5:50. Look through the mail, change clothes, maybe sit down for a minute or two. Perhaps create a quick dinner or prepare a portable one to go. Out of the door by 6:10 or so to be there by 6:30. Home by 10:30 or 10:45 or so, just in time to find my wife.........asleep.

This week has kinda seemed like I have rarely seen her. I worked Saturday night, then 4-10:30ish Sunday. Then the above evening schedule Monday night, Wednesday night, and last night. So in case you're not keeping score at home, that's 5 out of the last 6 nights.

I'm not complaining. I'm not whining. In case you're about to say, "Well, dumbass, you're the one working two jobs. You could always throw newspapers at 3 in the morning," that's not the reason I'm blogging. Just to say that I'm off tonight and off tomorrow, and very much looking forward to spending some "quality time" (ain't that a good cliche?!) with my spouse. And I know she's looking forward to it. I don't even know what we're gonna do. We may go out. We may stay home. Heck, we may just sit in the floor and alphabetize our CD's. But if you call my house tonight, I might just answer "Thank you for calling Kroger...." out of habit.

Mr. Important

Well, this weekend I worked both Saturday and Sunday nights as "Manager in Charge" at Kroger. We used to refer to it as "M.I.C.," but frequently "K - E - Y" followed in any discussions involving the position or a person who was serving in that capacity.

Anway, instead of my standard-issue Kroger shirt, I got to wear shirt and tie, carry keys that could open every lock in the place, and sit at manager's desk and watch security monitors like I was Billy Baldwin in Sliver. I've probably been asked to do this 3 or 4 times, and it's usually because our Associate Manager hardly works closing shift, and the guy who usually does it at night needs off for something. This weekend, it was mudfest, I mean Music Fest.

I really don't mind doing it, I guess....and it is a bit of an ego boost that the store manager feels confident in my knowledge, maturity, and/or intangible abilities to be the main dude in charge. But frequently all it means is that I'm on the short end of the "Let me speak to your manager!!" phone call or upset customer. It would also be an excellent grooming opportunity if I was considering Kroger management. But I'm not. Another thing is that there is no wage premium or other monetary incentive for taking on this added responsibility for the night. Yep, I get the same pay if I'm strapping 20's in the money room or sending a Western Union as I do walking around in a shirt and tie with a master key and watching for shoplifters.

So tonight, I'm back in my comfort zone. Back to counting money and hawking money orders. I guess I feel like I'm more of an "expert" doing my regular Guest Care stuff than I do pretending that I'm in management. But at the end of the day, it is gratifying that the manager of store V-457 feels confident enough in me to run his store for two nights.

No More Training Wheels

It seems some incredible ingenious guys have come up with a way to take away training wheels AND scraped-up knees all at once. Their idea won 1st place in something like the "International Bike Invention Contest" or something like that. It's a big tricycle that morphs into a bicycle as you start going faster. Slow down, and it's back to being a 3-wheeled beginner bike.

It sounds to me like their basic theory is that, when learning to ride a bike, kids are concentrating so hard on not falling (and possibly if mom or dad is still holding on), that they aren't confidently looking forward and pedaling briskly enough to stay up anyway. I must say that the design is freakin smart, but I'd be anxious to know how often it might break and/or if there are parts that wear out and all that other stuff. No indication as to costs, but I'm sure it'll be just like most bikes--Wal-Mart will promise that they'll sell a 40 gazillion of them, but only if the manufacturer gives them a price that's 1.5 cents more than what it costs to make it, so that they can offer it for $59.84 or something like that. Just like they did to Huffy.

But now that I think about it, in the same way that technology in the form of the ATM/direct deposit makes my use of a bank teller unnecessary, does this mean that if I buy my kid this piece of ingenious technology, that they won't need my help in learning to ride a bike?? These inventors are trying to wage a war against the family core, and drive a wedge in between my soon-to-be daughter or son! They should be ashamed! Somebody call Dr. Dobson!! OK, not really. But it is an interesting thought.

Congrats to the winners. I'm anxious to see if this makes it to the consumer--I'd love to see it in action. Capitalism is a wonderful thing.