VERIZON SUCKS!

Below is a copy of the complaint letter that I sent to Verizon today. I sent it to eight different Verizon corporate addresses. Is my anger justified?
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March 2, 2007

Dear Verizon,

My name is Brother Walrus. My account number is XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. I had two land-line phone numbers with you – 1-XXX-XXX-9999 and 1-XXX-XXX-2193. Our DSL service was attached to the “2193” number.

On Monday February 19, 2007, I called Verizon. My wife and I decided to disconnect the “2193” line. So I called to do just that. I informed the Verizon employee that my DSL service was connected to the “2193” number, and that we would need that to be connected to the “9999” number instead. He assured me that could be done. He also informed me that a service technician would not have to come out to our house, as everything could be done internally. I confirmed with him several times that we would not have ANY interruption with our DSL service. He assured me that we would not. He even said it would be a “seamless transition.” Again, I confirmed this with him several times. I believe the order number was L2165266. He told me that the process would take 5-7 days.

Later that week, I lifted up the phone on the “2193” number and found that there was no dial tone. I thought it was odd that the “9999” number wasn’t providing a dial tone. But regardless, the 5-7 day timeframe hadn’t passed yet. So I assumed Verizon was simply in the process of doing what they needed to do.

Then on Monday, February 26, 2007, my wife called to inform me that the DSL service was down. So I called Verizon to find out what was going on. I was then informed that I had placed some sort of “move order” and that the DSL service was in fact disconnected. I was then placed on hold several times and transferred from one person to the next. Eventually I spoke with a woman who informed me that it would be impossible to do the switch internally, as the “2193” phone jack would need to be rewired for the “9999” number. Needless to say, I was very angry. This is NOT what the Verizon employee told me when I placed the order on February 19th. I was assured time and again that there would be no interruption.

I ended up being on the phone for a little over an hour. I was demanding that somebody do something to fix the situation. I was told that it was too late, and that there was nothing that anyone can do, other than schedule a phone jack rewiring and a reconnect of the DSL service. I asked if they could reverse the order. I was told no. I asked if they could expedite the order. Again, I was told no. The best they could do was start the process again. I was told that the DSL would be restored by March 12, 2007. So I went ahead and scheduled the DSL to be hooked back up. I also scheduled a technician to come out and rewire the phone jack. In regards to the rewiring, I was given two options. I could either have someone come out on Thursday, March 1, 2007 between 8:00 AM and 8:00 PM. Or I could choose Friday, March 2, 2007 between 8:00 AM and 12:00 PM. Obviously I went with the Friday choice, as a four-hour window is far better than a 12-hour window. I was told that there would be no charge for the rewiring, as I have some sort of “line maintenance” option on the phone. As I was still angry, I asked to speak to a supervisor. I was told that none were available, but that one would call me back within 24 hours.

The next 24 hours passed with no call from a Verizon supervisor. So I took the initiative to call them back myself. In the course of the phone call, I was once again transferred from one person to the next. At one point, I was on hold for a total of 40 minutes! In the end, the entire phone call lasted over 2.5 hours. During that time period, I estimate that I was on hold for about two hours and 20 minutes.

I did eventually speak to a supervisor. The supervisor apologized several times, but reiterated that there was nothing he could do to fix the situation immediately. In frustration I told him I wanted to disconnect everything. He said ok, and transferred me to somebody else.

The next woman I spoke with asked me why I was canceling everything. I told her my story, and said unless she can do something, I wanted to terminate all my services. She gave me the same story, while apologizing. Finally I asked her if I could get some sort of compensation for all the trouble. She then said she could do a one-time credit of $29.99 for all the trouble Verizon had caused. It’s a bit mind-boggling that I had to ask for it myself, as opposed to it being offered to me. But nonetheless, based on the compensation, I accepted the offer. I once again confirmed with her that the technician would be coming out on Friday March 2, 2007 between 8:00 AM and 12:00 PM. I also confirmed that the DSL would be hooked up by March 12, 2007. She confirmed both dates. She also mentioned that the DSL could be back up a few days prior to March 12th. I believe the order number (perhaps credit number) was CICNO 48017283.

My wife rearranged her schedule so she could be home on March 2, 2007 for the technician. Unfortunately, no one ever showed up. So once again, I was on the phone with Verizon. This time I got a recording that said something to the effect of “my wait time may be longer than expected, due to heavy call volume.” (Big surprise.) When I got to speak to someone, the woman informed me that there was no technician scheduled for March 2nd. Instead, she showed that the technician was scheduled for Tuesday, March 6, 2007 between 1:00 PM and 5:00 PM! First of all, this is NOT the appointment I made. Second, I would never schedule an appointment for that time, as my daughter has her dance class during that timeframe.

What is going on here??? How can one company make one mistake after another?

Again, I was shuffled from one department to another. I believe I spoke with five different people. During my conversation with the fourth person, she looked through her system and did confirm that there was a technician scheduled to come out on March 2nd. But she also showed that a technician was scheduled to come out on March 6th. She couldn’t provide me any explanation as to what happened. So she did what everybody else had done – she put me on hold and transferred me to another department.

I ended up speaking with a man who apologized to me, but said his system showed nothing scheduled for March 2nd. I told him that the woman who transferred me to him DID show the original appointment scheduled for March 2nd. He literally said to me, “I wish I knew who that person was.” I then asked him to tell me who made the appointment for Tuesday March 6th. Because I certainly didn’t! He told me his computer didn’t show that information. If it did, I would be including that person’s name in this letter. If Tuesday March 6th wouldn’t work for me (which it didn’t) the best he could do was reschedule for Monday, March 12, 2007! Anyway, the man told me he would try to expedite the order to see if someone could come out on the afternoon of March 2nd. I asked him if someone would call me back one way or the other to let me know. He assured me that someone would. I can’t begin to tell you how thrilled my wife was at the prospect of having her entire day compromised, instead of just the morning. The entire phone call with Verizon lasted over an hour.

True to his word, someone from Verizon called me back about an hour later. The woman informed me that there was simply no way someone could come out on March 2nd. However, she did say that they would get someone out on Monday March 5, 2007 between 1:00 PM and 5:00 PM. As a courtesy, she provided a $25.00 credit for the inconvenience.

As I’m writing this, my anger with Verizon is intense. At the very least, we are without internet service for two weeks. Assuming it does get reinstated on March 12th, I fully anticipate having to contact Verizon to adjust my bill, as I’m fairly certain there will be no credit for the missed time.

What I can’t understand is how a legitimate company like Verizon could possibly make so many mistakes. I know you record all conversations for “quality assurance.” I would really like someone to go back and listen to my calls – especially the initial one on February 19th. His “seamless transition” has turned into two weeks of hell and five hours on the phone with Verizon – of which 4.5 hours of the time was spent on hold!

This disruption has affected two of the three online businesses that my wife and I run. It’s hard to run an online business when you can’t get online! And why is it that when we wanted to sign up with Verizon, there was virtually no wait time. Yet when we have a problem, we’re on hold forever? Your wait times are intolerable! Your process of transferring people between one department and another is also intolerable. As a consumer, I expect a lot more from my phone company. This entire episode has given us thoughts about dumping Verizon altogether.

I would love to have a reply to my concerns.

Sincerely,

Disgruntled Walrus

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UPDATE - 3/16/07 - Well, as you know, Verizon was scheduled to come out to my house Monday March 5, 2007 between 1:00 P.M. and 5:00 P.M. But did they actually show up? Of course not! Yes, believe it or not, nobody came. How mad was I? Well, around 5:20, I got on the phone yet again. After waiting perhaps 30 minutes, I finally reached a human being. When I inquired as to why nobody showed up, I was told, "Our technicians are running a little bit behind today. So we might not be able to get someone out to your home until March 12th.

Excuse me... what??? They're running "a little behind" so it may take another week? Does this make the slightest bit of sense to anyone? I couldn't take anymore. I immediately asked to speak with a supervisor. A few minutes later, I was greeted by Kelly. Needless to say, Kelly got an earful! I was angry. I didn't yell and scream. But I was loud! I think I almost had Kelly in tears. She apologized up and down and said she would "try" to expedite it (again) and get someone out on Tuesday. When I asked for further compensation, she denied me, saying I was only allowed one such credit.

So here we are. My wife had now altered her schedule to stay home all day on two different days - for no reason whatsoever.

On Tuesday, I received a phone call from the technician! She said she was on her way, and would be out to my house in 15 minutes. In the distance, I swear I heard the angels singing "Hallelujah." She asked about what she would be doing. When I told her, she said, "Oh, no one needs to be home for that. I can do all that from the outside."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fuckin' Verizon...

On Wednesday, the day after the technician showed up, the DSL magically came back on. However, it was running a little slower than usual. I called Verizon to complain. And they told me that because the DSL wasn't scheduled to be turned on until March 12th, they would be unable to troubleshoot with me until that day. The guy surmised that I was probably picking up someone else's signal in the neighborhood. Yeah... right. Oh, and I did have to have them adjust my bill, as I had been charged for continuous DSL service since February 19th, the day it was shut off.

On Wednesday March 14th, I received a phone call from Jennifer at some corporate office in Ohio. They had gotten one of my letters! Jennifer's number is 1-888-821-8377. She again apologized on behalf of the company. She said, "We do not like to hear about things like this." Jennifer was very nice. I updated her on my continuing problems. I asked her if my anger was justified. She said, "Yes." At one point she asked me if there was anything they could do. So I told her some sort of compensation would be nice. Eventually she credited our account an additional $120.00 for all the trouble. So in the end, our total credits for this fiasco was $175.00. Not bad. But I'm not sure it was worth it.

Oh, the DSL connection is still slower than it used to be.

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UPDATE - 3/16/07 - As it turns out, I am not alone in my disgust with Verizon. Check this guy out. Here's a check he wrote to Verizon a few months ago. Below that is a Youtube recording of a phone call he made to Verizon. I love it!

SUNDAY AFTERNOON

Cost of hosting a Passion Party: $0

Snacks for your guests: $20

One tub of mint Tasty Tease: $8.50



What your wife will agree to w/ Tasty Tease: PRICELESS!!


(Note: This post was written BY the above-mentioned wife.)

WHAT DO MEN FEAR?

I found a list of the top-15 things that men are allegedly afraid of. I've often described myself as an atypical male. I don't drink beer. I don't know anything about tools. And I know nothing about cars. So let's see if the trend continues.

#1 Public humiliation: Well sure, who wants this? I'm not sure this is a fear of mine. But it is something I'd like to avoid at all costs.

#2 Not seeing his kids grow up: Again, I don't fear it. But I certainly want to experience this.

#3 Tofurky: I'm guessing this was a joke entry. But if it tastes good, I'll eat it. If it tastes like shit, I won't.

#4 Getting naked: If I could be naked all the time, I would. I have no fear of nudity. I'm not real modest. And if someone wants to see the goods, just ask. When a female's been involved, it's a two-way street the first time. And she's probably a lot more concerned about her vanity than I am with mine. And once the action starts, it's all good anyway.

#5 Beautiful women: I must admit, even though I have nothing to gain, and I'm seeking nothing in return, I still have a tendency to get a little flustered. But I won't shy away from them. If anything, I'll try to get a little closer.

#6 Living paycheck to paycheck: One of life's cruel jokes. Most everyone is in this boat - save for some elite republicans.

#7 Not being a god to his kids: I'm "daddy." That's good enough.

#8 Being a lousy lover: Well, I've had no complaints, save for the one time I was sick and loopy on cold medicine. And no, that was not my wife. When all parties end satisfied, what more can you ask?

#9 Her tears: They are rare. I didn't marry a fragile tulip. There's nothing to fear here.

#10 His dad's death: Well, that would certainly suck. I guess there's a small fear for the inevitable. But it's not pending. So all is well.

#11 Speedos: I don't need to share the outline of my package to the world. If you want a peek, just ask. Speedos also kill sperm. It's true.

#12 Super Nanny: I've seen the show once. I have no desire to see it again. But if I catch a bit of it, so be it.

#13 Rejection: This one may be true. I've always struggled with rejection. Because of it, I've often avoided situations that could lead to it. Sometimes I'm amazed I ever got laid, let alone married. This fear has subsided with the passage of time. But it still exists.

#14 Getting caught noticing another woman: The beauty of sunglasses. You can gawk and not be noticed. Am I concerned if my wife sees me looking though? Hardly! She could pretty much care less. The most I'd ever get is an eye roll, after I gaze upon some other lovely creature and make some sort of gutteral "mmm-mmm." Jimmy Carter once said in an interview that he lusted after several women outside of his marriage. I think that's normal. Kudos to him for admitting it. But thinking it and acting on it are too vastly different things.

#15 Hair in the drain: My hair is so short as it is. If any were to hit the bottom of the shower, they'd be washed away. Amazingly, I still have my hair. At this point, I've no fear of losing it.

So there you have it. Once again, it appears as if I'm abnormal. Oh well. I'm happy that way.

TALKING BACKWARDS

Back in 1979, there was a TV show called "Real People." It was a really cool show featuring people doing amazing things - stunts and such. At the time, I was living in Manitowoc.

One night the show featured a guy who could talk backwards. His name was "Uncle Backwards" or something like that. I'm sure that wasn't his birth name though. Anyway, around that same time (probably shortly after the show) there was a small article in the newspaper about talking backwards. According to the article, people weren't supposed to be able to do that. In fact, the article said that if you knew someone who could, they wanted you to call the phone number they provided.

Well, I can talk backwards. At the time, I was a little kid. But I had been talking backwards for fun, for several years. I used to do it for my friends at school. They'd get a big kick out of it. My parents new of this talent of mine, and called the number. As it turned out, the person I spoke to on the phone were affiliated with the guy I'd seen on TV. In fact, they even let me talk to him for a few minutes.

A few weeks later, these two guys flew to Wisconsin to interview me for some sort of magazine or study. They brought tape recorders and put me through a bunch of tests to gauge my abilities. Apparently there was one other person somewhere in the country they went to see as well. They wanted to compare and contrast our "styles." It was all kind of weird to me. But it was kind of cool too. Our time together lasted a couple of hours. And that was it. There was to be no fame or fortune for me.

A year or two later, another TV show came on the air. This show was called "That's Incredible" - which was basically a carbon copy of "Real People." And lo and behold, that "Uncle Backwards" guy appeared on their show as well.

Then when I was in 8th grade, out of the blue, the two guys who had interviewed me years earlier, somehow tracked me down again. We were living in Two Rivers at that time. They wanted to fly in again and interview me. So they did. This time I taped it as well. I still have the tape. They even showed me the magazine that I had appeared in. They spent about 90 minutes with me, then left. I've not heard from them since.

When I was a junior in high school, Meff and I were talking on the phone one night. And I was telling him about my ability to talk backwards. He was a bit skeptical. Then again, he's skeptical about most things. So he challenged me. He asked me to not only say, but to actually sing the entire Flintstones' theme - backwards. Well, I guess I was up for the challenge. With no practice at all, I breezed through the entire song, in the proper time as well. When it was all said and done, he was laughing his ass off and telling me how amazing that was.

This is a true story. Maybe I should film myself singing the Flintstones' theme backwards once again, and put it in Youtube. What a trip! I think I will.

THE FRICKEN' COLD!

Am I the only one who is sick and tired of this cold now? It's been a week of this shit! I've had enough! I walk the dog twice each night, for a total of 45 minutes combined. And it's brutal!

Jedi (the dog) loves to walk. But when he comes back, he has a bit of an ice beard. As for myself, I've been wearing a hooded sweatshirt, a leather jacket, a warm ear-bandana-type thing, and gloves. Yet I still freeze my ass off. Maybe I should wear something other than sweat pants. They're pretty thin. And when I got back, I find that my genitalia have shriveled up to the size of a walnut. Weird.

It was -21 earlier this week. Isn't that a bit excessive? If there's any silver lining at all, it's that it hasn't been windy - until last night that is. Last night the wind just ripped into me. It was actually the warmest night of this cold spell. But it felt the coldest. When I got back home, my legs were red and numb. Yet I keep venturing out into it. You have to exercise. And the dog needs to walk. So what are you going to do? Grin and bear it? No, bitch and bear it.

MORE DREAMS

Inspired by my freaky dream about Jason, I started a new blog, dedicated solely to my dreams. I've linked it on the side of this page.

OOH WHAT A LUCKY MAN HE WAS

As very few people know, over the last several years, I have spent an enormous amount of time on an NFL message board. It’s a place that is primarily male-dominated. It’s safe to say that 95% of the users are male. And in the course of these years, I’ve gotten to “know” a lot of these people a bit. Many of them share their personal lives, as do I. Hell, most of the fun takes place in the non-football forums anyway.

One thing that I’ve discovered is that many of these guys fall into the stereotypical husband role. That is to say, many of them are miserable. Now before anyone jumps on me, let me clarify that many of these guys fit the STEREOTYPE of the “whipped” man who does whatever his wife says, and has to ask permission to do anything. Whether it’s true or not, this stereotype does in fact exist. And from what I’ve seen, in some cases, the stereotype rings true.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen the line, “My wife would never let me…” And this is in regards to small, trivial things.

And that’s sad.

Of course I then look at my own situation. When talking about my wife to others, I’ve always referred to her as a “cool wife.” And she is. She’s very liberal and open-minded about everything. If I wanted to “go out with the guys” it’s no problem with her. If I wanted to go to the strip club, it’s no problem with her. Hell, she’s gone to the strip club with me. NOTE: For the record, if you bring your wife or girlfriend with you to a strip club, the strippers are MUCH nicer to you, in every way.

I was reminded of this stereotype while listening to the radio this morning. The subject of the life of a married man came up. And to a man, they all said that the above-mentioned stereotype is true. One guy went so far as to say that every married man he knew was miserable.

If someone called me on Friday afternoon, and said, “Hey, let’s go out drinking tonight,” or “Hey, let’s go to the strip club tonight,” as long as I didn’t have prior plans (and assuming I wanted to go) I would say, “Sure!” I wouldn’t need to say, “I’ll have to ask my wife first.” Now don’t get me wrong here. I of course would call my wife and tell her about the plans I’d made. And I know for a fact that unless we had something else going on that I’d completely forgotten about, she’d encourage me to go and have a good time.

This works both ways also. We’ve been together since 1998. Since that time, she has probably “gone out” a lot more than I have. I have no problem with that. Why should I? I’m not sure Milwaukee has any male strip clubs, but if she finds one, and wants to go to one with her friends, that’s fine with me.

Tell me, am I the strange one here? Am I a minority? Am I lucky? Do I have it made? Or am I not unique at all? It’s pretty common in life that only those who have negative feelings about things speak up and complain about them. While the happily content say nothing because they have nothing to complain about.

DREAMS

Ok, last night I had an odd one – seriously odd. I had a job in a department store of some kind. What was my profession? Did I work at the checkout? Did I stock items? Oh no… I was an executioner.

Every store has one, don’t they?

And I wasn’t just in charge of executing nameless, faceless criminals. No, I was in charge of strapping former classmates into the electric chair. I think I killed four or five people. I can’t recall all of them. But two of the departed were fellow “Class Of 1989” blog entries of mine, Stacey Erickson and Markus Petkevicious. What had they done? I don’t know. But I strapped them in, and gave them the juice.

And then it got weird.

The next person to get strapped in was Jason Anderson. So I did my job. I put the strap on his skull, and pulled the switch. A few moments later, Jason slumped to the floor. Then I went to check on him. He was still alive! So he got up, completely out of breath, and in obvious pain. I commended him on his ability to stay alive. Then he wandered around the store a bit. And not unexpectedly, he received a lot of sympathy from people – people including his friend and fellow classmate, Jay Rozmarynoski. Becky Koeppel also showed up to give her support. I of course hovered next to Jason for the most part – so he wouldn’t run away, I imagine. I happened to have my digital camera on me. And not wanting to miss a photo opportunity, I asked Becky if I could take a picture of her, as I didn’t (and don’t) have a recent one of her for my class blog. But she declined. When I asked her why, she said she didn’t approve of my blog because of some of the negative aspects of it. Specifically, she pointed out that Stacey Erickson had left some bad comments about Kevin Dehne. For the record, she hasn’t.

Well, as the dream continued, I myself was pretty shook up about it. I was torn. In one aspect, I too was moved by Jason’s experience and wanted him to live. On the other hand, I felt I was duty-bound to do my job. I was very upset. And at one point, I started crying. For the record, Jason was crying too. I even asked him if he had some place he could disappear to, if I happened to let him go. He said he did.

In the end, my duty ethics won out. I sort of lead Jason back to the electric chair. At one point he decided to bolt. For a brief second, I thought about appealing to Jason’s pride, and had thought about saying something like, “Jason, it’s time to man up. Be a man and don’t run away.” But I didn’t have to go that route. Jason’s run lasted for only a second or two. He happened to run right toward the electric chair. And once he saw it, he stopped. He even put the electric strap on his own head.

As Jason sat down in the chair, the coroner showed up. He had come to take the body away. He was 45 minutes late. But since Jason survived the first shock, it all worked out. Once the coroner was there, I knew there was no way I could let Jason go now.

So anyway, I placed the hood over Jason’s head, and flipped the switch. As I looked back at Jason, I saw that he had somehow managed to get the hood off. So he was looking right at me. Knowing that the jolts of electricity could cause his eyes to come out of their sockets, I pleaded with him to close his eyes tight. It was really loud. So I had to scream it at him. I was thinking that there would be less pain if his eyes stayed in his head. I was genuinely motivated to have his suffering as painless as possible. Jason obliged and shut his eyes. Determined not to have a repeat performance, I let the electricity flow through him longer than normal. Eventually, Jason’s body slumped to the floor. After I turned off the juice, the coroner confirmed that Jason was in fact dead.

After Jason was dead, I decided that I was going to quit my job, effective immediately. It was too horrible to go on any further.

And that’s pretty much how my dream ended.

I must admit, when I woke up, I was a bit disturbed at this dream. Killing these classmates was an absolutely awful feeling. I don’t recall ever having a dream like this before.

So my question is this. What does this dream mean? Can anyone interpret it? I’m too lazy to check the internet myself. I’m not sure I want the “answer.” I’d like to know what others think.

Anyone?

WHAT'S YOUR FINE?

I came across this survey on someone else's blog. I think she got it from a website. Anyway, it's pretty easy. For each thing that you've done, there's a fine in the form of a dollar amount. Go through the list, and add it up. What amount of fine would you end up paying?



Smoked pot -- $10
Did acid -- $5
Ever had sex at church -- $25
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you -- $40
Had sex with someone on MySpace -- $25
Had sex for money -- $100
Vandalized something -- $20
Had sex on your parents' bed -- $10
Beat up someone -- $20
Been jumped -- $10
Crossed dressed -- $10
Given money to stripper -- $25
Been in love with a stripper -- $20
Kissed some one who's name you didn't know -- $0.10
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work -- $15
Ever drive drunk -- $20
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $50
Used toys while having sex -- $30
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $20
Went skinny dipping -- $5
Had sex in a pool -- $20
Kissed someone of the same sex -- $10
Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $20
Cheated on your significant other -- $10
Masturbated -- $10
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend -- $20
Done oral -- $5
Got oral -- $5
Done / got oral in a car while it was moving -- $25
Stole something -- $10
Had sex with someone in jail -- $25
Made a nasty home video -- $15
Had a threesome -- $50
Had sex in the wild -- $20
Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $25
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $20
Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $20
Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $25
Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $50
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $25
Went streaking -- $5
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $15
Been arrested -- $5
Spent time in jail -- $15
Peed in the pool -- $0.50
Played spin the bottle -- $5
Done something you regret -- $20
Had sex with your best friend -- $20
Had sex with someone you work with at work -- $25
Had anal sex -- $80
Lied to your mate -- $5
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $25


There you go. For the record, my fine would be $445.00. If someone would pay me to have anal sex with them, I could jack it up to $625.00. I skipped the questions where the fine was less than $1.00. It would make those answers obvious.

No details are needed. But tell me what your fine would be.

VOMIT

It comes in many sizes, many shapes, and many colors. As I currently have a puking infant at home, I was reminded of my own bouts with regurgitation. It sounded like a blog entry to me! So here are three of my more memorable vomit stories.

My first memory comes when I was about three years old. I had come down with some sort of ailment. And for whatever reason, I couldn’t keep any food down at all. So naturally my parents took me to the hospital. It was the one on Reed Avenue in Manitowoc. I think it was called Memorial Hospital at that time. But today I think it’s called Holy Family Memorial. Did Holy Family expand to include every hospital in Manitowoc? Anyway, I was dehydrated. And if memory serves, no one could figure out what was wrong with me. I stayed in the hospital for a few days. And at one pint, they actually had to insert tubes into both of my legs. Why? I don’t know. It must have hurt though, because I have vague memories of them working on me, and me screaming and crying my fool head off.

Now, I don’t remember this. But my parents do. And my dad has mentioned it many times over the years. Apparently I didn’t like having tubes in my legs. So at some point, I pulled them out – both of them. My dad recalls the doctor yelling at the nurses on staff for not keeping an eye on me. I don’t know why. But I can’t help but smile when I think about that.

A few days later, I was released. What I had remains a mystery. But I recall leaving with orange legs. I don’t know if they put something on my legs or what. But they were a pretty sickly-looking orange.

Fast forward to about age six. My mom had made brownies. But they were for dessert. I had the standard “If you eat everything on your plate” routine going. All was well, with one exception. On that night, my parents had cooked beets as a side dish. Now, I’m a firm believer that no one on this planet likes beets. How could they? They taste like shit. Granted, for those who know me, you know that I hate vegetables. I can’t eat them. I wish I could. But I can’t. They all taste awful to me. I can’t stomach them.

Well, even in my anti-veggie world, there’s a pecking order of what I can tolerate, if I absolutely must. With the possible exception of cauliflower, beets are on the bottom of that list.

I tried to eat them. Oh how I tried. The lure of those brownies was strong! On normal nights, I might try to hide my carrots or beans inside my milk. But there was no hiding on this night. I had to get them down in order to get that wonderful chocolaty goodness that was to follow. But it was not to be. After one swallow, up it came – along with the rest of my dinner. It went all over my plate and all over the table. I think my parents learned something that night. In the 30 years since, a beet has not graced my lips. Oh, and for the record, I did get a brownie for my efforts.

Fast forward another 10 years. I was now a freshman in high school. During 7th, 8th and 9th grade, I became a big fan of professional wrestling. I loved the personalities. I loved the bullshit. It was fun. So my dad and I used to truck up to Brown County Arena every month to watch the AWA or WWF grapplers in action. If there was any doubt that there are indeed some white trash people in Wisconsin, all one has to do is attend some wrestling matches. I think I had just as much fun people watching as I did watching the matches. I always thought professional wrestling was for kids. But as my dad pointed out, the parking lot was always full. Think about it.

Well on the last Sunday in March of 1986, we attended another show. Hell, it may have been the last wrestling matches I ever saw. Anyway, on that night, my dad and I really pigged out. We ate hot dogs and popcorn – which was unusual for us. Then on the way home, we stopped at a gas station and each got a big bag of chips. I kid you not, I ate my entire bag. We ended up getting home around 10:30. And I went to bed.

For whatever reason, I was restless. I couldn’t sleep. After several hours, I decided on a change of scenery. So I moved to the living room couch. It still didn’t work. By now it was around 3:30 in the morning. I had about three hours left before I had to get up for school. I figured there was no way I could go to school now, as I knew I would be dead tired. So I decided to stick my finger down my throat.

Now, I could have done this in the toilet. However, my parents were wise to me. They knew I was a faker. And unless they saw some proof, I was going to school. So I let loose on the living room floor. And based on everything I’d ingested that evening, it was a pile of epic proportions! When I was all said and done, I left a pile of vomit roughly the size of a football (in height and length) on the floor. You know how if you eat a bunch of potato chips or Doritos, and you crunch them up, but don’t swallow them, you’re left with this thick, soggy ball of goo? Well that’s what this pile was. It was as solid a pile of puke as the world has ever seen. There was no liquid. It was solid mush.

I went and told my dad that I was sick. He then cleaned up the mess. It was awful. He was trying to use paper towels. But it was really too massive for paper towels. He ended up swiping it up, making various divots in the structure each time. He would have been better off using a shovel or a pooper scooper.

I stayed home sick on Monday. In fact, I stretched that sickness out for two weeks – a record for me! I ended up sticking my finger down my throat nearly everyday. Of course I felt really guilty when my parents took me to the hospital at one point. Aside from the guilt, I did have fun those two weeks though. I watched a lot of movies. Plus the Brewers’ season started, and I watched their first few games. It was a great time.

So there’s three of my more memorable vomits. And to think, not one of these stories involved drinking. If you want my best vomiting story involving drinking, check out my class of 1989 blog and read about Scott Jaklin. And for my best laughing/volcano moment with vomit, read my entry on Jeff “Meff” Messerman.

Now, tell me about your best vomit stories!

PEWTER?

Pewter, do I know thee?

Someone named Pewter has left me a comment in my thread about engagement. But I know not who Pewter is. But I wouldn't mind finding out. Pewter, Pewter, give me a sign!

Welcome Pewter!

MY DAUGHTER

My oldest daughter turns four in March. For the last two years or so, she's had a habit of "writing" and then singing her own songs. She's come with some good melodies on occasion as well. Maybe she's some sort of prodigy. I don't know. But inspired by this, one of her grandpas gave her a guitar for Christmas. Until last night, she had never touched it. But she grabbed it last night, strummed a few chords, and in the span of about 30 seconds, made up a short song. So we taped it. I thought it was cute. So here she is.

MY BIG TOE

I went to bed on Wednesday night and all was fine. When I woke up in the morning, the big toe on my left foot was sprained. It hurt like hell. What the fuck is that all about? It throbbed all day. And then Erin mentioned the word "gout" to me. Ugh! Yes, it was in jest. But anyway, a couple Ibuprofin did the trick. My toe is much better today. Of course the left side of my ankle is a little bothersome thanks to to the fact that I used it more in order to favor the big toe. Fricken' body...

I have nothing else to say right now. Although I have plenty of time to say it. So what to do... How about sports? There's football this weekend. Let us all hope for a Bears loss. That's all I have to say about that.

How about TV - one of my favorite pastimes. I think my new favorite show is "The Office." My wife and I find ourselves laughing hysterically at it. There are so many little nuances in each episode that can make you laugh out loud. I'm starting to develop a crush on Jenna Fischer too. Are we alone in thinking this show is pure genius? By the way, for those who watch the show, the character of Creed was a member of the 1960's group, "The Grass Roots."

On another note, my mother-in-law is a masseuse. A few years ago, she gave me a coupon for a free massage. I still have it. And I want to use it. However, one thing has always crossed my mind. I've never had a massage before. And what happens if I.. you know... sprout wood? It could happen. Now granted, I'm not going butt naked in front of my mother-in-law. I would have shorts on or something. But still, I would know if I got excited. And psychologically, that's a little weird. I wouldn't be mad or disappointed in myself or anything. Stuff like that happens. Hell, it happens throughout the day sometimes - for no explainable reason whatsoever. So I don't know. I'm not weirded out so much that I won't do it. In fact, I'd like to do it soon. I think a massage would be great. But still, there's that lingering fear in the back of my mind. Am I crazy?

ENGAGEMENT

Ok, so I was driving to work. Now I generally listen to Howard Stern. I’ve become addicted to him since he joined Sirius a year ago. But today they were playing a rerun from 1988. So after awhile, I turned on the local radio – Milwaukee’s WKLH. The morning crew was giving away vacations to Cancun for Valentine’s Day – provided couples were willing to get married on the air.

At one point, the subject of getting engaged came up. All three of them insisted that before a guy asks a girl to get married, he should approach the girl’s father for permission. In fact, the son of one of the DJ’s just got engaged himself. And he too (no doubt based on dad’s advice) asked for permission from not only the biological father, but from the girl’s stepfather as well.

Now call me crazy. But isn’t this sort of practice horribly old-fashioned? Now I have nothing against the concept, if a guy is inclined to do so. But should it be considered a requirement? I think that’s insane! And what if the father says no? Does that stop you?

Of course I think back to my own engagement. It happened Saturday, 9/26/98 – my 27th birthday actually. My wife and I had a pretty fast romance. Although we’d known each other for a few months prior, we’d only been a boyfriend/girlfriend couple since 8/12/98 – 45 days. We had a double birthday party planned for that night. Her birthday is September 28th. I had originally planned to propose to her then – and had even told a few people about it. But on the night of the 25th, I changed my mind. She spent the night at my apartment, and we planned to open up birthday gifts for each other the following morning. I figured since all our family and friends were going to be at our party on Saturday, what better way to celebrate. So we’d have a birthday/engagement party. After we’d opened all our gifts, I produced one final gift, got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. She was totally caught off guard. But of course she said yes.

But had I asked her father’s permission? Hell no! Why should I? No offense, but it really didn’t concern him. Would he have granted it? Of course. But still, why should I have to do that? We decided right away that as of November 1st, we’d find an apartment together.

Incidentally, the night of our engagement, my father-in-law approached me and said, “If you two want to move in together, that’s fine with me.” Now, that was a very nice thing to say. But again, we were going to do it anyway. A few months later, someone asked my mom how she felt about us moving in together before we were married. My mom’s response, “They never asked for my opinion.” (She wasn’t concerned anyway.)

My point is, I was an adult. And although she was six years younger than me, my wife was an adult too. So what obligations do we have to ask for permission for such things? Am I just stubborn and rebellious? Are others old-fashioned? What’s the deal?

HELLO

This is my blog. There are many other blogs like it. But this one is mine.

A year ago, I created a blog about my childhood classmates - every last one of them from 4th grade through my senior year in high school. It's been a fun blog. And it's not done yet. But in addition to that, I have other thoughts and ideas in my head - stuff that isn't really "classmate" related. So what to do? Create a new blog, that's what. So this is it.

Enjoy!