Checking in

I guess I didn't commit to this blog like I wanted to.  It'll come around.
Here's what I've been thinking about:

--Work is crazy as hell.  Four and a half weeks until our first race.  I'm quietly excited, but still pretty reserved.  Can't celebrate anything until we deserve to.  A lot on the line here, but I really believe we're going to pull it off.  I suppose I wouldn't have signed on if I didn't.

--Rose and I are planning our first move-in together for May 1.  She found us a nice place in West Addison, and the back yard is quite literally Lake Champlain.  We can walk up the driveway to one general store, or paddle a canoe over to Port Henry, NY to another.  Cows everywhere.  Small but pretty perfect for what we need.

--I love technology more and more by the day.

--I can't believe that poor woman Melissa Jenkins was killed up in St. Johnsbury in front of her kid on the side of the road.  I mean, I read about a dozen murders a day in big cities, but it's so rare in Vermont that it just hits so much harder.  I'm sure I know 20 people that knew her.  Absolutely tragic.

--The trip to Stony Brook with Ed, Pich', and Al a few weeks ago was just awesome.  We were gone for a total of about 26 hours but have enough stories from that day to tell for the next 26 years.  I am so proud to be a UVM Superfan, and we danced on the host floor in the host gym right in front of the host fans on national television.  When UVM wins big, all of Vermont wins big and the country takes notice because (not unlike the murders up here) it's so rare.  Love.  This  Team.

--I miss the ever-living hell out of Landon, and I can't afford to do a damn thing about it.  My son is almost six years old and I've seen him a total of one hour and 40 minutes since July 24, 2009, but for Christ's sakes, I'm worse off financially now than I was even back then.  "Be patient," I keep telling myself.  It sure to hell doesn't get any easier.  At least with my father, he's passed on and I know he's not coming back.  That doesn't make that easy, either, but at least that's a definite, final thing.  I got closure out of that.  I was there for his last breath.  The difference with Landon is that I was there for his first breath, and I want to be a part of his life every day until my last breath.  I guess I just deal with it for now by staying busy and paying some of my bills.  (By the way, I'm proud to say I've made full child support payments to the tune of $117.70 every week since the middle of November.  Then again, it's ridiculous that I should even be proud of that.)

--Speaking of patience, John Adams has got to be one of the most patient people I've ever met.  I owe the guy $200 and not once has he ever asked for it.  He knows I'll make good on it, and I will, but he'll never know how much I appreciate his friendship and understanding.  Times are tough.  He gets it.

--Back to Rose, she makes me feel like a man should feel.  Never really had that before in my adult life.  She doesn't have to have me around 24/7, she lets me do my thing and doesn't even really ask any questions, but she needs me when it's important.  And I feel exactly the same about her.  She's my rock, even if I'm away for ten days in a row.  She's truly my best friend.  I love her very much, and I really feel like I struck a gold mine by being at JP's to sing a couple of stupid karaoke songs in the middle of February a year ago.  She wasn't impressed, so I cranked it up a notch with "Oh, Darlin'" by The Beatles, I kissed her on the cheek, and that was about it.  More than a year later, it still feels like it's only two weeks old.  I'm a lucky guy.

--Can't stop humming Weezer's "El Scorcho" today.  Also, can't stop listening to Gov't Mule on the tape deck in the car whenever I drive these last two weeks.

--Yep, tape deck.  I'm friggin' exhausted.  Night.

Remembering the ODT

It's funny some of the things you remember better than anything else.  I feel like I'm pretty creative, like I've got a pretty good wit and sense of humor, my I don't hold a candle to my old man.

He was a funny-ass guy, much funnier than I could ever hope to be, and the other night my uncles, a couple cousins, and my sister and I gathered at Uncle Jeff's house and had some beers in the garage.  We dug out a couple of old audio tapes my dad made for deer camp back from about 1988 to '92.

The back story: The Orange Dog Tavern was born in 1970 when a group of sick and twisted St. Louis guys and a few buddies went to deer camp in Worcester.  The "orange dog" part came from a poem my grandfather once told:

Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow.
Everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day
And a big orange dog came along and fucked it.

So, that being the premise of the ODT, you can imagine what deer camp was like for about 35 years.

Everyone had a nickname.  Uncle Gene was Goat Lips I, his son oldest son Kevin is Goat Lips II.  Uncle Gary was The Green One, my father Ron was the Reverend RNNN (pronouced "rin").  Family friend Mike is Mr. Lunch, I've always been Skippy.  And so it goes.

Anyway, Dad created WODT, an on-tape "radio station" for deer season, completely packed with original -- and highly offensive -- material.  Highlights from the 1992 tape include a football game between the Steelers and Cowboys with commentary from Howard Cosell and The Hindu Wisdom Giver, an essay by legendary news anchor Walter Cronkite in which he compares the assassination of JFK to his sexual fetishes with his wife, community announcements sponsored by Reverend RNNN's Holy Church Of Latter Day Guys To Whom All Things Are Swell, and an AIDS awareness message so unbelievably funny and politically incorrect that the back of your head hurts from laughing so hard when you hear it.

I hadn't heard any of those skits in years, but we popped that tape in on Friday night and I found myself reciting almost every word verbatim.

"Uh, hi.  I'm the guy at the brain store, um, down the street.  Yup.  And today, we're having a sale.  If you come down today, I'll sell you some brains for... for two dollars."

It wasn't just the tapes, either.  There were written poems, videos, and even "The Book of Bambi" featuring cartoons of Stick Man and Barney, Bible verses from the Book of RNNN.  Birthday roasts with acted-out skits featuring characters like Roy Music, the Mayor of Worcester, and race car driver W.D. Forte involved not just my father, but all of the brothers.

I went to Barnes & Noble last night with Rose, and we flipped through a photography book that the Burlington Free Press published highlighting all of the devastation caused by the weather in 2011.  I was amazed as I looked through the photos at how little I remembered of the horrendous storms that hit this very area in which I live so hard not even a year ago.

But those tapes came on, and I remembered everything so clearly and vividly.  I like that.

We haven't had deer camp (by the way, nobody actually hunted at deer camp) in almost ten years, but I'm hopeful that we do again at some point.  Friday night was awesome.

Long live the ODT.