A 33 year streak comes to an end

I took my family to the Alliance Air Show in Ft. Worth last Sunday. I must say that for my first air show, I was completely unimpressed. Actually, this may have been one of the biggest ass-whippings of my life. I would have been perfectly happy missing this one also, increasing my record of missed air shows to 33 straight years, but I knew how much my middle boy loves planes, so I relented, telling the Susi that we should go so I could see the Rocket Powered Semi Truck. We all load into the Suburban and make the one hour drive to the air show. On the plus side, I got to take my SUV off-road, but that was only because we had to park about two miles from the entrance to the airport. We all pile out of the Suburban and while we are walking, we are able to see an F-18 flying right over our heads. It was great to see and hear that plane, the first 40 times it passed over our heads. We eventually get into the show, and start to wander about. We look at a few planes, and I begin to realize how much cammo people are wearing. As we continue to wander about, I am amazed at the sheer volume of cammo; from little kids, to grizzled old men, everyone has it on. It's not like they are at a football game wearing their favorite team's jersey, there is only one team people. You are not going to be mistaken for a professional pilot because you're wearing a camoflauge wife beater and jorts. Additionally, please keep your knowledge of airplanes to yourself; the big round thing on top of an AWACS is not for landing helicoptors, if you tell your kid that, he is going to get his ass kicked. Oh yeah! back to ass whipping, how many times can a person possibly watch the same thing? I mean wow, that plane just did a loop de loop, and then it did a roll. Wow, the next plane just did a loop de loop and a roll. Wow, the third plane just did a loop de loop and a roll. Come on! Enough already! I guess I'll be 66 before I can treaten this record again.

Karma, and the Ancient Art of Egging

Well peoples, the evil brutess Karma reared her ugly head and stared me right in the eye the other day. My freshley painted house was egged by amatures, but I'll get to that later. Let's start with a small section of The Hondo's resume. When he was a young buck, he and his friends would celebrate anything by egging cars, and people, and houses, and street signs, etc. etc. etc. Well, in the course these adventures, The Hondo apparently built up a little bit of negative Karma. The Hondo was a master of egging, hitting moving cars, cop cars, 18 wheelers, hadicapped busses, dogs, people, and yes, even freshley painted houses; you name, I would throw an egg at it. Well, as this story began, my house was egged, and now that you have a small part of my resume, you can understand why I can state that this was an amateur job. Last Sunday, I was sitting in the living room, watching the Sunday Night Foootball Game. When there were two loud thumps from the front of the house. Well, being the kind and considerate husband I am, figured that my wife had dropped something or fallen. So, as I continued to lay on the couch, my Wife, heretofore referred to as The Susi, comes into the living room and asks "Did you hear that noise at the front door?" My immidiate thought was to lie and say no, figuring that I could keep my comfy position on the couch a little longer. But, I could tell by the look in her eye that she was far more concerned than I. I got up and headed to the door behind my wife. She opened the door to reveal egg sliding down its freshley painted surface. I looked and nodded to myself, thinking amateurish, door knob not hit. I stepped outside fully expecting to be pelted with an egg, but to no avail, the amateures had fled. I preceeded to take a full damage assessment of my property and was surprised to find in addition to the front door, my Suburban was only hit once. I went to the side of the house and got the hose, and as I washed of the Suburban and my front door, I took stock of the situation. There were a total of 4 eggs thrown. They were, in order; one landed about 6 feet behind my SUV, the second one hit the side of the Suburban, and the final two hit the top of my freshley painted front door. Now, here is a lesson in egging from an old pro. If you only have 4 eggs, and one house to egg; the first egg should be thrown at the windshield, prefferably on the drivers side. The second egg should hit the brickwork of the house so that it can dry and stink for a couple of days. The third egg should hit the front door right at the door knob, for obvious comical reasons, and the fourth and final egg should be aimed at the owner, who comes out to investigate. I give this brief lesson, not because I want to be hit with an egg, but Jesus folks, as my dear old Grand Pappy used to say "Chingow, if your gonna do it, you better do it right."

What am I doing?

Come on, you'll be cool if you do it.

Everybody else is doing it.

If you do it, I'll let you touch my boob.
(well, maybe not that one)

Anyway, like smoking and other assorted dumbness, I have finally been peer pressured into starting a blog. I use peer pressure in the singular sense, since I only have one friend. Well, the idea of this is, according to my wife, to have an outlet for the retarded stuff that runs through my head. Like most "tards" now that I have an outlet for my unbridaled verbal aggression, I really don't have anything to say.