Anticipation

Been a long while my friends. And what is it friends do when they haven't seen each other in ages? You got it...its time for some beer drinking! I'm meeting some friends for Happy Hour this evening after an eventful week for myself both professionally and personally. The professional stuff is blah blah blah crap so I won't bore you with it. Personally I just put my house on the market in one of the worst economies since the dust bowl. Don't know what will happen but excited at the prospect of possibly selling and moving the fam to a new location even in scary times. Why am I selling? Well reason number one is there is a guy who lives about 2 blocks away that has a tatoo on his arm that reads "Cocaine Wayne". I guess the other reasons are mute after that and as scary as moving is...well you get the idea.

So with that I'm also excited to taste some cold ones this evening. Why is it that knowing you have a cold frosty one waiting for you after a long day of work makes that day so much better? I mean you could have yer boss rain down all over you and your work and if you know you have that tasty mind altering refreshment waiting for you you'll take that golden shower with a smile. Its one of the many virtuous aspects of alcohol that is underrated in my humble opinion. I mean most people talk about the taste or the feeling from their alcoholic beverage of choice but what about the anticipation of said beverage?! The anticipation or grasping the cold mugs handle, lifting the rim of the glass to your lips and passing that bubbly concoction over your toungue and past your tonsils to the belly of the beast. The excitement of knowing you'll be enjoying the beverages with good friends and good conversation and a well placed politically incorrect joke. The joy of knowing you can put this fucked up world at bay if even for an hour and just enjoy yourself for a fleeting moment.

The hour approaches and with all the stress of selling my home and deadlines at work and my kids running amuck and everything else that we all deal with on a daily basis I can't help but feel excited. Cheers to Anticipation!

Maybe Bonds Wasn't On Roids

My first fathers day as a two time champion came last weekend. Spent the day between my parents and Flattys Gal's parents and a "Walking With Dinosaurs" show. All in all a good day. I also received a few gifts. My oldest daughter made me a grand painting of me, her, a garden hose and the sun. My wife gave me a new tennis racket and a new pair of running shoes. Yup running shoes, my old nemesis running is coming back to get me.

Anyway the shoes were too small (damn and they matched my tennis racket too). Size 13 and too small? I've been wearing a 13 since I was in about 9th grade. The last few years I've noticed that more and more 13's were no longer fitting my foot. Is it possible for a foot to grow when yer in yer 30's? I know they said Barry Bonds feet grew like 3 sizes form all the roids he was taking, though he protested he was not on the juice and they just grew. Anybody who knows me or has seen me knows I'm definitely not on the juice. Unless that is there is a steroid that makes you slug beers better and faster and gives you a bulging gut. In that case I could see someone making the assumption.

So anyway I took the shoes back and had to get a 14! One of the two size 14 they had in the whole Running Room store which severely limited my choices. So I guess my feet are expanding some in my old age and I also guess I'll be trying this running thing again soon. I wonder if steroids could make running seem like a fun thing.

Glass with that?

If you've ever had the chance to frequent any drinking establishments in northern wisconsin or minnesota, and I highly reccommend you do if you have not, have you noticed how the barkeeps all ask if you'd like a glass with yer can or bottle of beer? It seems its a long forgotten courtesy at most bars in the Twin Cities. Some restaurants still ask but not so much in the bars. I usually decline as I've never been one to take the time to pour my bottled/canned beer into a glass when it seems to me the fastest route to beer induced euphoria is grip, tip and sip or get ripped as case may be. I do like the concept of it though and the hospitality of being asked. Many of the people in the bar my last trip did indeed take advantage of the glass offering, slowly pouring their pabst or old milwaukee into small 6-8oz glasses building a nice frothy head in the process. Most of them were older gentlemen or women, say past the age of 55, which might have something to do with it becoming a lost art in todays metro pubs. One gentlemen I noticed also practiced the time honored tradition of adding a bit of salt to his freshly poured brew. All of this made for a kind of grand beer drinking display on the bar in front of him. He smoked Pall Malls (everyone smokes in wisconsin), so he had his pack of smokes, an ashtray, a lighter, a can of beer, a glass of beer, a salt shaker and a pile of odd bills and change laying on the bar. Like an offering to the beer gods it sprawled out in about a 1 foot square area on the bar that he laid claim to probably 5 hours earlier when he sat on that stool. All this gets me to thinking the next time I go up I might take the bartender up on their glass offer. I've enjoyed my forsty intoxicating friends for far too long without showing the beer gods their proper respect.

If Ever There Were A Time To Raise A Glass

Those of you who have read my blog entries (very sporadic of late I know) you may have found I often bring some element of the enjoyment of a beverage or two into the conversation. Well today I say cheers and lift my glass in toast to a pretty remarkable person and her ultimate show of unselfishness.

The mother of a dear friend of mine has been suffering through non-alcohol related liver disease for some time now. It got to the point late last year as things deteriorated for her that she was put on the donor list. Although many people have been saved on the list we have all heard the stories of people waiting for years for a donor and often not having it materialize in time to save them. This is where Staci comes in.

Staci is another friend of mine through marriage. She married one of my best friends (which in itself makes her a saint). I have always admired Stacis determination and drive, even when I didn't understand her path, as when a few years back she joined the military in her mid 30's with a war raging in the middle east. Maybe joining was a result of her sense of duty, or her way of giving back. Maybe it was an urge for adventure or proving something to herself. I've never really asked her straight out. Whatever it was she went ahead full bore and has not looked back and is still an army reservist today. To give you another example of her drive she also now runs marathons in her "spare time" between work and the army. I've run with her one time. Notice I said one time. There is no way I could ever keep up.

Staci is also friends with the aforementioned guy whose mother had fallen ill. Upon hearing of the dire situation his mother was facing Staci volunteered to be tested as a possible living donor. A donor for a person she had never met beyond the discussions with the woman's son. When all the testing was complete it was found out she was about a perfect match.

Today Staci had part of her liver removed by her own choice and doctors transplanted that partial organ into a womans body who may have died without it. Maybe it was her sense of duty, or her way of giving back. I'm not sure. But I do know it is one of the most unselfish things I've seen one human being do for another in my 35 years. Cheers Staci, and heres to a speedy recovery for both you and your organs recipient, may you both live long and happy lives!

Baby needs a new cigar

Been a while since I last graced the blogosphere with the trivial details of my life and times. There is a good reason for this. On April 9th my wife and I had our second child. Another little girl, Josie Lynn Johnson weighed in at a respectable 8lbs 9oz. Josie had a rough entrance to the world breaking her left arm in the process. According to the docs she should be healed up in a couple months. Beyond that she seems to be healthy and mostly happy (except at 1, 3, and 5 am when she demands a bottle). Ellie my oldest, 4 years to the day that Josie was born, can barely contain her excitement at having a real live baby sister to play with. Mom and Dad are just grateful for another healthy addition to the family, especially when being able to have children at all was an iffy proposition at one point. 

One of the many things that Josies birth got me to thinking about was cigars. When Ellie was born I went and bought a box of cigars and passed them out to friends and family in the paternal tradition. I'm guessing 90% of those cigars ended up tossed in the garbage as I don't think many of my friends and family, like myself, actually smoke cigars. Well other than the couple times when its been 2 am after 15 beers and it seems like the best idea ever. The cigars I bought then were not cheap, not Cubans, but not Swisher Sweets either. So I ask whats a father to give out? I've seen the chocolate, bubble gum, etc cigars but that just seems hokie to me. Seems like it needs to be something you could enjoy with the person or they could enjoy later at their leisure. I mean would it be bad to hand out a Jag Bomb? How bout a steak? Maybe a large fry from McDonalds? All things I know buddies would enjoy but is it just weird?

As for my running...or my not running I should say. I fucked my ankle up again running across the hospital parking lot the day after Josie was born. Obviously this thing will not heal and I am hopelessly cursed by the running gods. I've given up hope for the spring of being able to get back out. Summer will hopefully find my ankle in a better state of being.

Six Word Memoir

Trying to be better than yesterday.

Today Sucks

Today is Monday and it sucks. Maybe its more that I suck. I'm not doing any good design work today. I ate a big fatty lunch which made me even more tired than I already was. I look like shit. I need a haircut and the lack of sun in my life has made my skin almost transparent its so pale. Its snowing outside...again. Between spraining my ankle and then getting the worst flu known to human kind I've been doing nothing with myself for the last 6 weeks but lay around sweating and shoving anything digestible into my gullet. I need some motivation and less self pity. I need to get out and run. As much as I hate to admit it I was indeed starting to enjoy running before I rolled my foot. Thats it, I'm going tonight, in the snowstorm and all, I need to break out of this rut! ...or maybe I just need a beer.