This is too cool not to share, but I can't let you see the finished product.
Mrs. Evan was tasked with making a sexual harassment presentation. In order to help things along, she enlisted the help of some people, who made short sexual harassment videos. The videos were over the top and corny, but what was even better was the outtakes.
My job was to separate the wheat from the chaff, so to speak, giving her usable footage. But I was also given the green light to make an 'outtakes' video for the people who made the videos. My brother-in-law and I spent a couple of days turning the anti-sexual harassment outtakes into a spoof video showing how ridiculous the whole sexual harassment thing is.
Unfortunately, I can't show the final product publicly. What I can do though, is admit that we closed this not-for-profit, spoof video with Monty Python's "Sit on My Face" as we rolled our credits. How's that for spitting in the eye of the politically correct movement.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Washed Clean
Not everyone will appreciate or agree with today's post. That's fine. I don't ask anyone to change their beliefs, I just ask that you appreciate that it's kind of significant for me...
I got baptized today. Yeah, that's right, I'm a Christian... I voluntarily drank the kool-aid that is Christianity. I get that many of you don't share my faith in God... at least not the Christian God. That's okay. I'm not going to try to convert anyone, and I'm not going to get preachy. I'm merely going to share my story.
I was raised Southern Baptist, complete with the fire and brimstone, and the belief that if you don't follow the Bible lock, stock and barrel that you were condemned to an eternity in hell. The church of my youth tried to scare me into worshiping God. They failed miserably. Instead of scaring me toward God, they drove me away. There was no way I could love, respect and worship such an angry, vengeful god.
Time went by, and I reconnected with God. I realized that the Southern Baptist god was only a small portion of what God truly is. And God was more than happy to meet me on my terms, revealing himself to me slowly, as I was ready to accept who He is... accepting that I would lean on Him when times were bad, and return to my life when the hard times passed.
This pattern went on for about twenty years, but somehow I knew that the status quo wouldn't work indefinitely. In the back of my head I knew that all worthwhile relationships require work, and that my relationship with God was no different. Somewhere along the line, I realized that it was time to shit or get off the pot.
I won't go into how I know God exists... suffice it to say that I believe, and that's enough for me. After all, my experience won't convert anyone else. Besides, I promised that I wouldn't preach here. With that said though, I came to realize that now is the time for me to work on my relationship with God. Getting baptized was the best way for me to demonstrate -- to God and to myself -- that I'm ready and willing to work on the relationship.
This wasn't a conversion experience. I'm still the same guy I was yesterday... the same guy I was last year. I'm not going to instantly disavow my non-Christian friends, and I have no plans of turning into an instant evangelist. If you don't believe, that's okay. I don't expect you to suddenly change your beliefs because I got baptized. I do, however, hope that you're at least able to recognize this milestone in my life and wish me well accordingly.
I got baptized today. Yeah, that's right, I'm a Christian... I voluntarily drank the kool-aid that is Christianity. I get that many of you don't share my faith in God... at least not the Christian God. That's okay. I'm not going to try to convert anyone, and I'm not going to get preachy. I'm merely going to share my story.
I was raised Southern Baptist, complete with the fire and brimstone, and the belief that if you don't follow the Bible lock, stock and barrel that you were condemned to an eternity in hell. The church of my youth tried to scare me into worshiping God. They failed miserably. Instead of scaring me toward God, they drove me away. There was no way I could love, respect and worship such an angry, vengeful god.
Time went by, and I reconnected with God. I realized that the Southern Baptist god was only a small portion of what God truly is. And God was more than happy to meet me on my terms, revealing himself to me slowly, as I was ready to accept who He is... accepting that I would lean on Him when times were bad, and return to my life when the hard times passed.
This pattern went on for about twenty years, but somehow I knew that the status quo wouldn't work indefinitely. In the back of my head I knew that all worthwhile relationships require work, and that my relationship with God was no different. Somewhere along the line, I realized that it was time to shit or get off the pot.
I won't go into how I know God exists... suffice it to say that I believe, and that's enough for me. After all, my experience won't convert anyone else. Besides, I promised that I wouldn't preach here. With that said though, I came to realize that now is the time for me to work on my relationship with God. Getting baptized was the best way for me to demonstrate -- to God and to myself -- that I'm ready and willing to work on the relationship.
This wasn't a conversion experience. I'm still the same guy I was yesterday... the same guy I was last year. I'm not going to instantly disavow my non-Christian friends, and I have no plans of turning into an instant evangelist. If you don't believe, that's okay. I don't expect you to suddenly change your beliefs because I got baptized. I do, however, hope that you're at least able to recognize this milestone in my life and wish me well accordingly.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
And Now for Something Completely Different
My older daughter forgot to empty her pockets before tossing her jeans in the hamper...
Several days later, I washed a load of clothes. As I pulled the laundry out of the dryer, I discovered the contents of her pockets... specifically, I found lipstick stains all over our clothes. No amount of relaundering helped lighten or remove the stains.
Fortunately, there were no good clothes in that load. But there is a stain on a pair of my boxer briefs that look eerily similar to the kind of stain that would be caused by a "feminine accident."
Several days later, I washed a load of clothes. As I pulled the laundry out of the dryer, I discovered the contents of her pockets... specifically, I found lipstick stains all over our clothes. No amount of relaundering helped lighten or remove the stains.
Fortunately, there were no good clothes in that load. But there is a stain on a pair of my boxer briefs that look eerily similar to the kind of stain that would be caused by a "feminine accident."
Saturday, June 6, 2009
An Unscheduled Swim
Another post about our boys' trip...
On the third day of our trip, I did something I haven't done for years. I managed to swamp my canoe.
We had just started paddling for the day. I was commenting on how awesome the scenery was, and how cool it was that we were starting the day off with some fast water. We rounded the corner and were immediately greeted with log that ran virtually the entire width of the river. The only way around was to the extreme left of the river. Unfortunately, I was going first, the water was running too quickly, and I couldn't get far enough to the left. I T-boned the log, right in the middle.
I knew that I was going to hit it, and began weighing my options. The only option that I saw was to try backpaddling, hoping against hope that I could paddle fast enough to get upstream and work my way around the log. Once I hit the log, I started backpaddling and immediately realized this was not an option. I understood pretty quickly that the only thing I could do was save my strength and wits for what would inevitably happen next.
I quit paddling, and the canoe immediately swung around parallel to the log. I tried to lean into the log, (the only way to prevent swamping in this type of circumstance) but the current was too strong, and my canoe immediately tipped. In less than a second, I was under water, under the log, and popping back up... my canoe full of water, and my gear floating downstream.
My canoe is homemade... constructed of plywood and fiberglass. It will float by itself, but not with any weight in it. My gear was stowed, primarily in waterproof containers. But I didn't have enough waterproof stuff for everything. Part of the gear was stowed in rubbermaid containers, strapped shut with bungy cord.
My camp chair was one of the items that wasn't in a bag. It's heavier than water and immediately sunk to the bottom... never to be seen again. Fortunately, these chairs aren't too expensive. Unfortunately, it was brand new. I also lost my sunglasses, and my baseball cap, but I found my cap later on downstream.
One of the rubbermaid containers wasn't rubbermaid... it was a cheap imitation. It filled with water, and shattered on a rock. It also had most of our dry food. We lost our mac-n-cheese, oatmeal, cocoa and instant tea.
My sleeping bag, clothes, camcorder, wallet, and keys were secured in waterproof bags. They were fine. My cot and matress pad were wrapped in contractor bags. They got damp, but weren't soaked. They dried in less than 3o minutes in the sun.
Since we went south for this trip, the water was warm, so the swim wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, it was kind of fun. But we were swept about 1/4 mile downstream before I was able to make it to shore and before we coralled our gear. After the initial shock wore off, I laughed my @$$ off!
The moral of the story is that even experienced paddlers need to pay attention and not become complacent. It's also good to remember that no matter what, the river will occasionally win.
I've got some video footage of the trip. I plan to make a youtube video sometime in the next week or so. At that time, I'll write more of a review about the trip and some of the gear we took.
On the third day of our trip, I did something I haven't done for years. I managed to swamp my canoe.
We had just started paddling for the day. I was commenting on how awesome the scenery was, and how cool it was that we were starting the day off with some fast water. We rounded the corner and were immediately greeted with log that ran virtually the entire width of the river. The only way around was to the extreme left of the river. Unfortunately, I was going first, the water was running too quickly, and I couldn't get far enough to the left. I T-boned the log, right in the middle.
I knew that I was going to hit it, and began weighing my options. The only option that I saw was to try backpaddling, hoping against hope that I could paddle fast enough to get upstream and work my way around the log. Once I hit the log, I started backpaddling and immediately realized this was not an option. I understood pretty quickly that the only thing I could do was save my strength and wits for what would inevitably happen next.
I quit paddling, and the canoe immediately swung around parallel to the log. I tried to lean into the log, (the only way to prevent swamping in this type of circumstance) but the current was too strong, and my canoe immediately tipped. In less than a second, I was under water, under the log, and popping back up... my canoe full of water, and my gear floating downstream.
My canoe is homemade... constructed of plywood and fiberglass. It will float by itself, but not with any weight in it. My gear was stowed, primarily in waterproof containers. But I didn't have enough waterproof stuff for everything. Part of the gear was stowed in rubbermaid containers, strapped shut with bungy cord.
My camp chair was one of the items that wasn't in a bag. It's heavier than water and immediately sunk to the bottom... never to be seen again. Fortunately, these chairs aren't too expensive. Unfortunately, it was brand new. I also lost my sunglasses, and my baseball cap, but I found my cap later on downstream.
One of the rubbermaid containers wasn't rubbermaid... it was a cheap imitation. It filled with water, and shattered on a rock. It also had most of our dry food. We lost our mac-n-cheese, oatmeal, cocoa and instant tea.
My sleeping bag, clothes, camcorder, wallet, and keys were secured in waterproof bags. They were fine. My cot and matress pad were wrapped in contractor bags. They got damp, but weren't soaked. They dried in less than 3o minutes in the sun.
Since we went south for this trip, the water was warm, so the swim wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, it was kind of fun. But we were swept about 1/4 mile downstream before I was able to make it to shore and before we coralled our gear. After the initial shock wore off, I laughed my @$$ off!
The moral of the story is that even experienced paddlers need to pay attention and not become complacent. It's also good to remember that no matter what, the river will occasionally win.
I've got some video footage of the trip. I plan to make a youtube video sometime in the next week or so. At that time, I'll write more of a review about the trip and some of the gear we took.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
A Tough Lesson
One of the guys I canoe with likes to drink - a LOT. On more than one occasion, I've seen him down a gallon (yes, a gallon) of Jim Beam in a 24 hour period. That amount of alcohol would probably kill me. He tends to binge drink... staying dry for a while (weeks or months), then falling off of the wagon, and falling hard. Our canoe trips tend to be a drink-fest for him. Sometimes it's not so bad, sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's sad, and occasionally it pisses the other two of us off. (Okay, it's a drink-fest for us too, but nowhere close to the same extent.)
For several years, he's had a habit of getting drunk to the point of passing out. Just before hitting that point, he always says, "I'm going to lay down in my canoe and pass out. You guys go ahead, but wake me up if you see me floating by." Every year, I end up staying back and babysitting his drunk ass. This year I decided that enough was enough, and so did my other buddy. That's right, we let his drunk ass pass out in the boat and we continued on downstream. I've always been the one to make sure that nothing bad happened to him, and I'd had enough.
We paddled on, going through some water rough enough to tip him if he wasn't paying attention, but not rough enough to injure him. We finished our day, pulled over, set up camp, and ate. We never saw him. Nightfall came, and we never saw him. The next morning, we made breakfast, broke camp, loaded our canoes, and he still hadn't shown up. He didn't appear until noon.
We found out that he pulled over on a sandbar just upstream from us. Not having a tent, he tipped his canoe over, and slept under that. He also had no fire and little food. Meanwhile, my buddy and I worried that he was genuinely hurt.
Our actions had the intended impact though. He stayed relatively sober the rest of the trip. In fact, he didn't drink at all for the next day and a half. When he did finally drink, he only got slightly inebriated. He gave us a little crap for ditching him, but we both told him we were tired of babysitting his drunk ass. I went further and said that I didn't want to hear another word about ditching after having babysat his sorry unconscious body for the last several years straight. He said "fair enough," and that was that.
He suffered the physical effects of his stupidity. We suffered the guilt of wondering if we were doing the right thing. It was a tough lesson for everyone. I wonder if it will have a long-term impact on his drinking pattern. Probably not, but I can hope.
For several years, he's had a habit of getting drunk to the point of passing out. Just before hitting that point, he always says, "I'm going to lay down in my canoe and pass out. You guys go ahead, but wake me up if you see me floating by." Every year, I end up staying back and babysitting his drunk ass. This year I decided that enough was enough, and so did my other buddy. That's right, we let his drunk ass pass out in the boat and we continued on downstream. I've always been the one to make sure that nothing bad happened to him, and I'd had enough.
We paddled on, going through some water rough enough to tip him if he wasn't paying attention, but not rough enough to injure him. We finished our day, pulled over, set up camp, and ate. We never saw him. Nightfall came, and we never saw him. The next morning, we made breakfast, broke camp, loaded our canoes, and he still hadn't shown up. He didn't appear until noon.
We found out that he pulled over on a sandbar just upstream from us. Not having a tent, he tipped his canoe over, and slept under that. He also had no fire and little food. Meanwhile, my buddy and I worried that he was genuinely hurt.
Our actions had the intended impact though. He stayed relatively sober the rest of the trip. In fact, he didn't drink at all for the next day and a half. When he did finally drink, he only got slightly inebriated. He gave us a little crap for ditching him, but we both told him we were tired of babysitting his drunk ass. I went further and said that I didn't want to hear another word about ditching after having babysat his sorry unconscious body for the last several years straight. He said "fair enough," and that was that.
He suffered the physical effects of his stupidity. We suffered the guilt of wondering if we were doing the right thing. It was a tough lesson for everyone. I wonder if it will have a long-term impact on his drinking pattern. Probably not, but I can hope.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
I Need to Apologize
On the way to the put-in spot, I ended up behind a pair of pickups towing large catamaran-style boats, going about five M.P.H. under the speed limit on a hilly, winding two-lane highway. I wasn't in a hurry, and I certainly wasn't road raging, but I did want to go faster than they were traveling.
After following these guys for about ten minutes, things fell in line for me to pass... the vehicles in front of me got far enough apart for me to leap-frog between them, the highway flattened out a bit, and the double-yellow lines became a single stripe. Seizing the opportunity, I tromped on the gas, made my way into the other lane and started my pass. I was about 1/4 past the guy when I saw another truck towing another something-or-another, headed right for me. I slowed down to get back to my spot.
Unfortunately, so did the I was trying to pass, though I didn't really notice that specific aspect at that exact moment. I did see that I probably wasn't going to be able to get back into my lane, and began evaluating the options. I had considered going into the ditch, but it was too steep and I definitely would have rolled. I filed that in the back of my mind as a last resort though.
Eventually, the guy I wanted to pass got the idea that I was slowing and gunned it, allowing me to get back in my lane. During this whole thing, I never panicked. My blood pressure never went up. Immediately afterwards, both trucks in front of me pulled over, allowing me to pass.
Thinking that was pretty cool, I gave the guys the thank-you wave as I passed. In return, I saw red-faced, shouting, angry faces, answering my wave with a one-fingered salute. Apparently they thought I was a crazy, reckless driver trying to pass them at whatever cost. And on top of that, they probably thought that I was an obliviot for waving and smiling at them while they were yelling and flipping me off.
It's really kind of unfortunate that my attempt to pass caused that kind of anger in them. It's too bad that they didn't understand I wasn't just some idiot in a hurry, I was a fellow motorist who happened to make a mistake. Sorry dude.
After following these guys for about ten minutes, things fell in line for me to pass... the vehicles in front of me got far enough apart for me to leap-frog between them, the highway flattened out a bit, and the double-yellow lines became a single stripe. Seizing the opportunity, I tromped on the gas, made my way into the other lane and started my pass. I was about 1/4 past the guy when I saw another truck towing another something-or-another, headed right for me. I slowed down to get back to my spot.
Unfortunately, so did the I was trying to pass, though I didn't really notice that specific aspect at that exact moment. I did see that I probably wasn't going to be able to get back into my lane, and began evaluating the options. I had considered going into the ditch, but it was too steep and I definitely would have rolled. I filed that in the back of my mind as a last resort though.
Eventually, the guy I wanted to pass got the idea that I was slowing and gunned it, allowing me to get back in my lane. During this whole thing, I never panicked. My blood pressure never went up. Immediately afterwards, both trucks in front of me pulled over, allowing me to pass.
Thinking that was pretty cool, I gave the guys the thank-you wave as I passed. In return, I saw red-faced, shouting, angry faces, answering my wave with a one-fingered salute. Apparently they thought I was a crazy, reckless driver trying to pass them at whatever cost. And on top of that, they probably thought that I was an obliviot for waving and smiling at them while they were yelling and flipping me off.
It's really kind of unfortunate that my attempt to pass caused that kind of anger in them. It's too bad that they didn't understand I wasn't just some idiot in a hurry, I was a fellow motorist who happened to make a mistake. Sorry dude.
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