I prepared for my lovely wife, her favorite “guilty-pleasure” food, Morningstar Farms Spinach Artichoke Veggie Bites.

They are actually better tasting than they sound. Anyway, I quickly squeezed out small daubs of Boar’s Head creamy horseradish sauce, the preferred topping and hustled the plates over to our table.

“Look, honey!” she declared.

I swear I did not draw the heart intentionally, and the way that stuff squirts out, I doubt I could if I tried!

I guess sometimes your heart ends up in the right place.

In the last hour, I’ve suffered a water main break in my neighborhood and an eyebrow waxing. Plus the thong I just bought is chaffing. Just kidding. I didn’t buy a thong. Borrowed the wife’s. NOT! What the heck! When you head off the your favorite Asian hair-cuttery and your wife floats out the comment, “Oh, ask her to wax your eyebrows.” It kind of hits you.

Crap! Am I THAT old! There’s a guy at church who sounds like Boris Carloff and has eyebrows that would make the steel wool manufacturers jealous.

“Do you want to look like him, honey?”

No, I don’t. Just hand me your leopard skin bra. I’ve had my eye on it for awhile anyway…

Been in Florida for awhile. Not a vacation… just retrieving some precious personal items.

And having a great time kayaking with the porpoises and manatees…

Tough place to leave.

I woke up on Sunday morning at 6:30 am after staying up until after midnight to watch the debut of MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) on CBS network TV. Watching humans (male and female) beat each other to a bloody pulp had left a sour taste in my brain and I knew I had to talk to God. I had two choices – go to church or climb the mountain.

I picked the mountain.

I’ve been there before, many times, but not in the last 5 or 6 years. I missed the sunrise, but caught it on the way out of my neighborhood.

Stone Mountain has been around for since before forever. Native Americans understandably worshiped its unbelievable status on the horizon.

Booking up the face involves stair stepping, dodging rock gaps and an increasing slope angle. A great workout in the early AM.

At the point you think you are there, the slop angles to 45 degrees… Sweet! Get ready to suck in O2 big time. Don’t get me wrong. Lot’s of old folks book up this rock, but, but they take an hour or more, stopping at multiple sit-down sites. You do it at 4MPH making it in less than 25 minutes and you just might see God before the top!

At this hour, there are a lot of folks up here, but the top is so expansive, everyone seems to be able to find a place away from one another and just sit to figure out their problems. Or simply connect with the wind and the massively expansive view.

And then you get to the top…

I heard him. He said it was all going to be fine.

Check out the airliner in the upper right of the photo above. An unexpected surprise. The wind was blowing so strong and loud as to block the sound of its engines. I was in a wind cocoon.

Checking out the granite surface around me… Even geologists don’t know 1/10 of what this magnificent creation is about. Some say those pock holes above are lightning strike hits, others say that as the magma cooled millions of years ago, minerals were dispersed unevenly, and as the mountain eroded over the eons, pockets of more fragile minerals dissipated more quickly than others.

I say lightning DOES strike twice!

This place is outstanding. I took 85 photos. Just be thankful I didn’t post them all!

And I knew it would happen. I won’t mention the name of the car rental company because they actually turned the tide around in a very positive way.

One individual (manager) in Atlanta made a bad call, sending me out in a car with a temporary dealer tag which had expired the day before I rented the damned thing.

I pointed out the expired tag on the walk-around of the car while looking for dents and dings to mark on the contract, but was assured “everything was OK” as long as I had my contract.

“Yes”, I replied with confidence, “But I am still at the risk of being pulled over.” I was talking to a wall. They had no other available vehicles and I had no time to wait for a questionable alternative.

I drove from Atlanta to Florida to go to a wedding and made it without incident.

And then the incident arose.

We left the wedding reception (woo-hoo!) at 11:something pm and promptly got lit up by the “COPS!”.

I was not in the least surprised and was completely prepared. I had the contract, my license and proof of insurance at the open car window with the engine shut off, and the keys on the dash as the officer approached my “vehicle”.

“Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?”

Without missing beat, I replied, “Yes, sir. It’s that dumb-ass tag on the back of my “vehicle”. I handed him all the paperwork.

“I’ll have to check this information out”. I nodded and hoped he didn’t want me to get out and do some roadside gymnastics. I was fine to drive and totally cogent, but even at the age of 17, I don’t think anyone can walk with one leg up and recite the alphabet backwards in Hebrew which it seems that they are asking people to do on ‘Cops’ these days…

The officer came back all smiles (God Bless what he does for a living and my hat is completely off to him).

He asked me to ease back onto the thoroughfare carefully on account’a the fact that there was a ditch nearby. I thanked him gratefully and said a silent Hail Mary.

The next day I wasn’t as charitable. I called the rental company to complain about being pulled over due to not having a valid license plate and then the hoo-ha hit the fan.

The company representative could not believe I had been sent off in such an irresponsible fashion.

They were going to get me into a legal vehicle!

So I went from a bad-ass 2008 Dodge Charger to an actually very serviceable Toyota Sienna (which handled better, and had better gas mileage than the Charger), WITH a FULL tank of gas (value $50!!!). As a passive-aggressive move, I’d driven the Charger in on fumes.

And nobody got hurt.

So, who was the rental company? The one who messed up my family’s wedding night, then fantastically saved my a**?

All I can say is that my drinkin’ war vet buddy, Captain Kirk, used to captain their ship, so to speak.

And if you can’t figure it out from that, call Avis!

Here is the definition of the subject line:
An offering or deal that is foolishly accepted without first being examined.

Origin
“Don’t buy a pig in a poke” might seem an odd and archaic phrase. It’s true that the context of language is very old, but actually it can be taken quite literally and remains good advice.

The advice being given is “don’t buy a pig (or anything) until you have seen it“. Oh, you know, kinda like the late night TV pitches promising “You, too, can make $10,000 a day from home at your computer! It’s SO easy! Just listen to Jenny’s story!”

A poke is a small sack or bag and is the origin of the word pocket. A poke is just the sort of bag that would be useful for carrying a piglet to market.

A pig that’s in a poke may turn out to be no pig at all. If a merchant tried to cheat you by substituting a lower value animal, the trick could be uncovered by letting the cat out of the bag. But that’s the subject for another post.

I know my cantaloupes. I know how to thump, I know how to sniff the ends for that ripe “cataloupy” smell. I know to leave them out on the counter for a few days to allow them to ripen into a sweet tasty nectar with a full pulpy texture by which God intended them to be enjoyed.

And yet, I WAS BETRAYED! The image above is a representation of what I cut into after a recent purchase. WHITE PULP! I HATE WHITE PULP! It is TASTELESS! I want to bite into a fragrant, juicy cantaloupe!

The disappointment crashed my expectations like a welfare recipient walking away from their mailbox without a government rebate check.

But I (to continue the analogy to absurdity) filed my taxes! I did the work! I’m not a slacker! I deserved a ripe, juicy cantaloupe!

Blame it on the high gas prices. They obviously trotted this melon out ahead of schedule to beat the next price hike.

And don’t even get me started in on bright, hard, red apples that yield mealy insides reminiscent of spongy, low-density foam padding causing your teeth bounce back out in revulsion, having expected a satisfying tangy crispness.

A nod to phrases.org for helping me articulate this frustration.

This has been the coldest, windiest Spring in the last 10 years in Atlanta.

I am sick and tired of the “tree-hugger”, politically-correct mindset mentality which is dictating the direction of our energy policies.

Human-induced global warming is a pathetic hoax.

I say drill the heck out of Anwar to get more oil than we’ve used in the last 100 years –– and shut-down the oil company lobbyists so we can create alternative fuels to release us from the grip of dependence on foreign oil.

What would Ripley Do?

She sure as hell wouldn’t pay $4 a gallon for regular!

Again, another advertising | marketing slam dunk and a deal at the same time. Warrant Officer Ripley, played by the tough-ass Sigourney Weaver needs to be our next president. She is devoid of “cankles” and is sharp as a tack.

The Quadrilogy box set is the bargain of the week. $46 for 9 DVD’s! That’s five bucks a DVD… better than the bargain bin at Wal•Mart.

Based on the fact that white men have mismanaged the train wreck that our society and economy has become, I think the country agrees that someone new needs a shot at the least attractive job in the world.

The 3 dubious candidates currently running are most definitely the “B” team at best.

Ripley takes on surly crew members and intensely aggressive female alien creatures without a second of panic.

And she handles high-tech, high-powered weapons with ease and aplomb. Reminds me of my lovely wife!

Check out what’s in the box… I couldn’t even fit it on my kitchen table for this awesome photo!

I recommend a write-in campaign in November. Vote early and often for Ripley. And vote to drill in Anwar for oil, as well as to bring back the nuclear-powered Pinto to release us from the grip of mid-east oil and $9 a gallon gas!

Yahoo is gunning for Google! I got this package in the mail and immediately began to annoy my 22 year old son at the crack of 11am with it.

They dropped some serious coin on this project. The box it came in is top-of-the-line solid and the printed marketing material inside is on heavy, premium paper. They want everyone to know that Yahoo is prepared to rule the “Search Marketing” world. In other words, get buyers to your site.

Once you open the box, you find an “Easy Button”, like the one from whatever office supply company uses that in their ads. Seriously, I can’t remember which one, which is marketing death for any clever ad. “Love the ad, can’t remember what it’s for!”

Sheesh! There goes a quick $mil in development and placement costs down the drain.

I now use the button each time I bill out a job, get a check in the mail or win the lottery (haven’t used it for that yet.)

Click below to hear what pushing the button sounds like (as if you’ll be surprised!)

Recorded directly from the device.

CLICK ME!

Been out of town doing wet work for the CIA, then came back to a loaded voice mail tape. More paying work. No body disposal. Most excellent.

That being said, I will leave you with this image from my epic journey back from the southland…

Arby’s! What are you thinking?! A Roast beef outfit positioned next to a place that displays roast…? Never mind. You are judged by the company you keep.

And the next time you decide to install a fire hydrant in the middle of nowhere, please do a better job of securing it to the truck!

This 900 pound, fire-engine red potential projectile of bolted and welded steel was bouncing around on top of the PVC pipe like a BB on a vibrating cookie sheet.

Truckers of the world, secure your loads! Or you’ll have some “’splaining” to do!…