Reality Television: "This is Reality?"

“Reality Television”

Those two words can spark many emotions in most television viewers.

(Please, if you need to upchuck, feel free to take a break and do it now.  It only gets worse.)

Since "COPS" hit the scene in the early 80's, reality television has blossomed.  There's something about stupid people watching stupid people that appeals to stupid people.  And, for those that don't consider themselves stupid people for watching stupid people, these shows provide a feeling of superiority to stupid people, as they watch these shows religiously.

Stupid people!

I've decided to save you the trouble of rating some of the most popular reality television offerings and provide a small synopsis on several of the most popular, as well as some of the newest offerings.  Many of these shows are geared to guys, or simply called "Guy Shows."  

So, if you're a female reading this, you'll be able to talk to your boyfriend or husband and communicate in a language he'll understand.  (Generally, it's know as "Bubba-eze.")

Ice Road Truckers

This show has been on for several years, and has yet to have one of its participants die or fall through the icy rivers or ocean over which they drive their eighteen wheelers.  

Whatta bummer!

Men love this show and watch it in hopes of seeing someone go through the ice, much in the same way they watch auto racing for the wrecks.  This show is so popular that they've even taken versions of it to Asia and South America to travel other types of "Death Roads."  

Still, no one has been killed!  As long as cameramen ride in the cabs with the truckers they film, chances are slim to none that anyone will be.  So, why watch it?

Gator Boys

This show is just beginning its second season.  Two guys that catch alligators, first in Florida, and now in Mississippi, week after week after week.  Upon occasion, they throw in a capture of a venomous reptile or some type of carnivorous lizard, but mostly it's alligators.

Upon occasion, one of the two will get nipped, but as reality TV series go, still nothing major has happened to either of them.  If you like watching the same thing week after week, then this might be just the show for you.

BBQ Pitmasters

Again, this show has made it into a second season ... somehow.  

Three judges force three to four contestants to barbecue either beef, chicken, or pork selections.  You watch as they prepare, cook, and present their end products to the judges, who mercilessly grade the offerings on appearance, texture, and taste.  In the end, a winner is chosen.

ZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Finding Bigfoot

Four individual travel the United States hunting Bigfoot.

Still haven't found him.  Don't expect them to.  If there were as many Bigfoots as they'd like you to believe, they'd have a representative in Obama's cabinet.

Although in thinking back, Dick Cheney did bear a hearty resemblance to many of the drawings!

U.S. Of Bacon

Fat guy (Todd Fisher) goes around the United States showing you all the bacon specialties that are available for anyone wanting to commit suicide by grease and cholesterol poisoning. 

Host looks as though he could die at any minute as he devours these tasty tidbits that tantalize the taste buds of the soon to be CCU patients.  

I do have to admit, after watching this show one night, my wife and I went through an entire pound of thick sliced Applewood Bacon in making BLT's the next afternoon.  We're still recovering!

Yum! Yum!  

(Yes, Help Alert ... I've got chest pains!)

Duck Dynasty

Redneck family in Louisiana has become millionaires with their duck call business.  

How many people that you know have bought a duck call?  Yep, another fantasy show!

Scripted show takes you through the life of these rednecks as they enjoy the everyday facets of life for those that don’t really have to worry about money, but act like they do.  Oldest son runs the business, middle and youngest sons work there making duck calls with their Vietnam War veteran uncle, as their mother and father deal with the grandkids.  

In the end of each show, they all sit down at the table and eat as the show's family lesson learned is discussed.

Happy, Happy!

Rattlesnake Republic

One of the few shows on television that depict conservation measures as unrealistic.  Groups of “rattlesnake hunters” go out weekly hunting rattlesnakes, that will be killed, skinned, and portrayed as serving no purpose in the ecological chain.  

Australia did this once and found themselves plagued with mice infestations until the snake population recovered.

Oh well, “Mouse Hunters” is on the future schedule anyway!

This is one of the few shows in which a cast member has been seriously injured.  Jackie Bibby (shown at right) was bitten in the leg on September 12, 2012, and unfortunately, had to have it amputated just below the knee as necrosis set in.  

Oops!

*****************

And that is my offering of reality television programming.  I have omitted many, simply because most recognize they have absolutely no value, or because they are rip-offs of previous shows set somewhere else (hence Cops and North Woods Law).  

No, I don't spend my time watching these week after week, for the most part.  However, they do provide noise as I find myself writing hubs or blogs or whatever, and occasionally draw my attention.

It is your choice as to enjoy these programs as you rest any brainwaves that may be seeking exercise, or to ignore them and pick up a good book.

I wonder if “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo” is out in paperback version yet?

Finish the Sentence Friday Blog Hop #2

  

So, I've been away for a while.

I've been wallowing in self pity, depression, and a wasteland of ridiculous time wasting activities.

"God, why did you ever let Hostess go out of business!  

I miss Twinkies so much!"

Anyway, time to move on.  Life must continue.  

I've found sourdough pretzel bites to replace Twinkies!  I'm good!

Speaking of a wasteland of ridiculous time wasting activities, I'm participating in one developed to help one spread guilt and shame for past activities.

It's called, "Finish the Sentence Friday Blog Hop." (Hence the title of this post, just in case you skimmed over it too quickly to notice.)   In this activity, we are supposed to finish a sentence with real life activities we have experienced.  (Can you say it was developed by the cult of Sadists Supreme, children?)

Today's sentence to finish is, 

“One of the most embarrassing things I ever did was…”

So, in the air of good sportsmanship and group cohesion, I will parade my insanity that has aspired to be held within the hidden portals of my demented mind and release this unto all of ye at this time.  I could simply re-release yesterday's example of what not to post in a blog (which has been deleted after several comments proved the intended humor was not there), and go back into my hole.  Yet, I'm basking in the rays of an afternoon sun after drowning in the torrential morning rains we sustained, so I'll not go there.  Instead, let this be my offering:

One of the most embarrassing things I ever did was to drink Jagermeister for the first time while onstage performing stand-up comedy.

Now, let us first remember this took place over twenty years ago.  I'm much wiser now.  (Like I'm really proving it by telling this story!)

Now, we all know that comedians drink onstage ... right?  Well, most don't.  It's a myth.

I used to take one drink onstage, and then the bartender was under direction to send up club soda and lime for the rest of the show.  Any professional recognizes quickly that alcohol will dull your senses.  When you're doing your best to be witty, and handle drunks that love to heckle, you need to be on your toes.  So, drinking is a taboo to a professional.

However, one night, during a particularly good show and tremendous audience, a customer sent me up a couple of shots of Jagermeister.  Now, if you don't know, this is a 70 Proof German drink that tastes slightly like cough syrup, but will give you an almost immediate buzz.  (I found this out after guzzling both shots in record time.)

Within five minutes, another waitress arrived onstage with four more shot glasses of the liquid refreshment.  They, too, found immediate refuge within my spotlight drenched body.  This was followed by four more, and I believe, four more after that!

I really don't remember the rest of the evening.  However, upon arriving at the club the following night, the owner pat me on the back and congratulated me on getting the audience laughing so loudly.  He'd never heard them roar as they had the preceding evening, or so he said.  In fact, he'd never seen a comedian lying on his back, onstage, laughing so hard right along with them! (No, I don't remember that either!)

Apologies would have normally been given, but since he only presented praise, I simply said, "I just hope I can do the same tonight."

When introduced, I ran to the stage, did my standard opening bit, and appreciated the benefits of having another great audience on hand.  

Then, from the back, a voice rang out,

"Hey, you gonna get drunk like you did last night and piss your pants again?"

As Paul Harvey would have once said,  "And now you know the rest of the story."

2012 ... Bah, Humbug!

2012 is over!   

Thank God!

What a bummer year!

I really hate to say that because I've met so many good people this year as I've started writing, first on Hubpages.com and then in my own blog.  I'm not even going to try to mention all of them, for the list is way too vast (much more so than my memory).   Just let me say that all have grown to mean a lot to me.

So, besides that, is there a high spot to the year?  I doubt it, but I'll let you decide.  Here we go with my recollections of the year 2012!

January
I've been operating a full speed in a District Manager job that normally burns out people in six months, and I'm in month eleven.  I'm getting up at six a.m., writing all my managers positive motivation emails and combining daily reports, and getting to their store locations by ten a.m., after leaving the hotels that have become my home over a three state area.  I get to see my wife late Saturday night, Sunday (if she's not working), and Sunday night.  Monday, it's back on the road.

But the money is great!  I've bought so much stuff that I've not had a chance to open that it will be Christmas for months (if I ever get a chance to be at home).

However, I'm feeling lousy.  I'm experiencing blurred vision, lack of energy, and spaciness at times.  I've gone to the doctor and she wants to send me to five different specialists to find out what's up.

My regional director is the definition of a narcissistic asshole.  He doesn't try to instruct, only hound and use intimidation.  I don't think he even knows what to do.  We had a record sales year in the district I created, yet, he picks at everything.  When I told him I was undergoing medical treatment, he appears on January 31st with a separation agreement.  

Tired of his constant "holier than thou" attitude, I took it, and the money it offered.  

Now I can enjoy all the stuff I've bought!!!

February
What a month!  Specialist after specialist, and no results.  Even had a doctor give me a sales pitch for a "sleep" machine before diagnosing me!  What a sham!  Finally determined my weight gain from eating out in hotels and such had created a Diabetes Type 2 condition.  

Good things did happen this month!  I got to share my college history with my wife by getting tickets to two Indiana University basketball games!  It was over a three hour drive to get to each game, but was worth it!  Now, she's a true Indiana fan, too!  (So much so that she spent $300 in the fan store on team t-shirts, hoodies, and coffee cups!   Should have left her at home!)

Also, started having someone hit our front door every morning about 3 a.m.   Just a quick "bang" and they were gone.  Home invasions going up in the area.  So, I bought a pistol.  By the end of the month, had another and an assault rifle.  Target practicing at least three times a week.  

After the bang one night, I ran outside with my assault rifle and searched around the house.  Didn't find anyone as they must have been hiding around my neighbors home.  Funny, after that, no more bangs at the front door.  (It must have been my serious look on my face that scared them.)

March
Probably should be looking for a job, but I have never had a chance to watch the entire March Madness Basketball Tournament, and I'm a basketball junkie.  Still have plenty of money in the bank for several more months, so, what the hell, let's take off the month, work to get myself healthy, and enjoy the games!   (Well, it made sense to me!)

April
Time to get busy and find a job!  Had an interview with an Operations Director for a slot right under them as the Assistant Director.  Money seems good, as does her response to the interview.  Simply have to have patience as she works to get appointment approved with her home office.  (It's so damn boring not working that I paint the kitchen!  Found out quickly that paint balloons thrown at walls don't spread the paint as evenly as the wife wants!)

May
Still waiting on job to come through.  Director says things are slow in processing and not to get discouraged. Even if they don't approve it for some reason, she has a Sales Manager slot that she will hire me for, at about the same money.  (I almost feel guilty watching my neighbor mow my lawn ... almost.  Damn, I really am getting lazy!)

June
Operations Director has quit the company.  Turns out, company is being purchased and is hiring no one.  So, time to start sending out resumes.  Have never had trouble being hired before with my accomplishments, so not real worried about it.  Still have plenty of funds in the bank, but decided I might as well supplement them with unemployment benefits.  I'd never needed it before, but why not take it if it's available?  Doesn't everyone?

To make matters worse, I turned 58 years old!  Hell, I thought I'd die by the time I was 40 with my adrenaline rush habits.  (What am I still doing around?)

Found an ad concerning making money by writing!  Wow, am I excited!  Haven't written in many years, but had no problem when I did it in the past.  Even had an article published in a Science Fiction magazine in the late 70's.  So, it's time to make some money!   Signed up for Hubpages.com and wrote my first article on if a person really knew what they were getting into when they decided to keep a snake as a pet.  (Yeah, I know ... lame, lame, lame!)

July

Still sending out applications and resumes.  What the hell?  Do these people not recognize quality when they see it?   (That was before I recognized today's recruiters rely on computers to choose the resumes they peruse.  Gives them time to watch HBOGo on their I-Phones!)

Writing is going well.  Meeting more people and getting plenty of views.  Found that creative writing was my true niche, as if I ever doubted it.  I just can't be one of these people to take an encyclopedia and write an article on it, like they'd come up with the topic first!  That was what we did in college, years ago!  (Where's the money Hubpages promised?  They wouldn't fabricate, would they?   Not Hubpages!)

August
More and more views coming in on Hubpages.  Community is accepting me more and more as I'm starting to get noticed.  Joined Hub Hoppers on Facebook and views soared!

Dealt with a recruiter at ADT.  He never called when he said he was going to, and then sent me an email stating that if he couldn't make contact with me, he'd have to withdraw my application.  I sent him a steaming email concerning his ability to perform his job duties ... with examples.  Received an email from him apologizing, and setting up a new time that he would call.  He never did.  (Surprise, Surprise, Surprise!  And this guy's got a job!  Corporations really are stupid at times!)  

September
Okay, this is really getting ridiculous.  I know it's illegal to ask age on applications, but these people are getting around it by requiring "Year Graduated" from high school, college, etc.!   It's the same damn thing!!!   (I wonder how much money I could make in a lawsuit against about 15 of these companies practicing this?   Maybe I could watch the next March Madness without worry again next year!)

October
Write, write, write ... that and reading hubs and answering comments seems to be all that's happening!  Still, no cash from Hubpages!   (No Virginia, Santa Claus isn't spelled Hubpages.com!)

Seems like insurance companies are the only ones interested in all of my sales and management talents.  All of them are now charging over $600 to get state licensed.  So, I pay them $600 to go to work for them, and work on a commission only contract.  (Let's see, no, I wasn't born yesterday.)

My wife (in one of her happier moments)
with two of five walls of cd's in my
tiny collection.

To make matters worse, one of my external hard drives has crashed, taking with it over 50,000 songs of my collection.  I still have Cd's to reload, but need a new hard drive and the cash just isn't there.  Plus, it takes one hell of a long time to download 50,000 songs from Cd's!    (To some, this wouldn't matter.  To me, the only thing worse than losing my collection is losing my wife.  Besides, my collection wasn't insured!)

Started blogging.  Probably, not the best time to do so, but what the hell, I've nothing else to do!  Using a cynical style of character in my writing.  Easy to do at this time as I find myself getting more and more cynical about things in general.  Have been told some like it and some don't.  Abe Lincoln had been told the same thing about the Emancipation Proclamation.  (No, I'm no Abe Lincoln.  Never killed a vampire in my life!)

November
Veterans representative is a joke at the Employment Office.  They're more concerned about taking care of the vets coming back from the Middle East than anyone else!   We were ignored when we came back from the Vietnam Era, and still ignored today!  (Next time, congressmen, you get your asses to the war and see what you're missing!)

Job fairs are offering only $10 an hour jobs at best.  What a farce!  (My country tis of thee, sweet land of screwing thee, bend over and squeal!)

December
What's the world coming to!  Kids getting shot, politicians saying, "So what" to the needs of the people, and everyone is either crying or going broke.   (But The Voice still leads in the TV Ratings Book!)

My eyes are gone.  Can't see 95% of the time.  Doctors say I need to have both operated on immediately, or may lose vision entirely.  Did as asked.  Still not much better.  (Could this have something to do with them needing extra money for Christmas?)

To make matters worse, have been advised that my unemployment runs out January 1st, and Obama cancelled all extensions.  Seems his goal is to get everyone to take two minimum wage jobs so he can say he brought the unemployment rate down.  (What?  Not O-Bam-Bam-A!  Why, he's the savior of the country, just like Bush was!  Why do I feel like we've been here before?)

Christmas just doesn't seem like Christmas.  Wife worked Christmas Day just to make double time pay.  I'm the luckiest guy in the world to have a woman like her, even though I don't deserve her.   (I just wish she made decent money so I could be a stay at home hubby.  I'd even promise her to learn how to make decent cookies!)

Finally, starting to get some hope!  Three companies are expressing interest in me.  A couple even promise decent income levels.  Not getting hopes up until dotted line is signed, but, at least there may be a light at the end of this 2012 dark tunnel.  (Better be or I'll be using candles to heat the house!)   

You will learn family values ...
or go crazy trying!

2013 can be a great year!  

All we have to do is: 

1)  start a worldwide revolution in which all the current politicians are given a travel trailer, $400 a week income, and forced to star in "Dirty Jobs" at least three times a season, and "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" twice (just for meanness)!  

2)  Next, void all CEO termination payoffs for doing a lousy job and stick their butts in a cardboard box in an alley!   

3)  Finally, remove all reality TV from the airwaves, and give all parents competency tests to see if they're qualified to be parents and teach the basic rules of life  (manners, responsibility, right or wrong, etc.) to their children.  For those failing the tests, lock them into padded cells and show continuous episodes of "The Andy Griffith Show", "Family Affair", and "Lassie", until they either pass, or are completely certifiable!


Life is tough, but one can never let it get them down.  I've done my best to find the humor in the madness this last year, and bring it to you.  I'll continue to do so in the future, as sometimes, a smile is all we have to give.

I wish each of you the happiest of New Year's and much prosperity and joy in the year to come.  And, if you see me on the side of the road with a sign in my hands, remember, 

I need cash, not a can of pork & beans!!!!

Keep Smiling & Happy New Year!!!!!

Let It Snow ... Let It Snow ... Let It Snow (You Sadist!)

Okay, I know it's not like blizzard condition snow,
but still, it's more than we usually get in KY.
My Ridgeline needed washing anyway.

I awoke in my recliner this morning as my wife hit my foot on purpose with her knee.

No, she doesn't think I know she's a vindictive bi...., er, wonderful woman.  Yet, I know she was upset seeing me sleeping there as she was preparing to go to work.   So, purposely, under the guise of inadvertently, she hit my foot extending beyond the foot rest of the recliner with her knee.  Of course, you already knew that since I mentioned it in the first sentence.  That is, unless you didn't read the first sentence.  Of course, if you didn't read the first, why would you be reading this one?

Anyway, after she woke me up, I arose, went to the window, and saw exactly what I expected.  I had an inkling what might be there, having only gone to sleep in the recliner a few hours before.  In fact, I purposely went to sleep in the recliner (as discussed in sentence one and paragraph one, too) so that my wife's vindictiveness would again show itself, and would wake me for a purpose.  

I almost feel like I'm double talking myself.

Only a few hours before, I had looked out the window to see our first snow of the year falling.  (Did you ever wonder why they say it's "falling?"   Have you ever seen it come out of the ground and rise up into the sky?)   Anyway, I'd glanced over to her car to see it was beginning to get covered in the frozen white droppings of angel spit.   (I used to have an aunt call it that.  It had a much greater affect to keeping us youngsters from eating snow than simply calling it "yellow" snow did.)

I figured if I slept in the recliner, my wife, as dependable as she is, would be aggravated that it had snowed and that she would have to get her feet wet walking to the car, and then having to scrap the snow off of it, and then wake me up so that she could share her anger and start my day off wonderfully.

That's just my wife!  Not knocking her ... just being honest.  She can be a true bi ....  er, wonderful woman at times.   She just likes others to "share her pain."    I know it's better to give than receive, but she carries it one step too far.

"So, she's at it again, huh?  
I'm glad she's your wife and not mine!"

Well, I knew that I was going to surprise her and go out, shovel the walk, and scrape the snow off of her car for her, but she didn't.   She continued to huff and puff around the house, shutting draws with the force of a jet thruster and doors with all the stealth of a wild bucking bull in heat!

As I was getting out of the recliner, Faletame stopped his snoring and said, "She's at it again, huh?"

"Yeah, she is.  You know how she likes to hide her feelings."

Gabriela barely opened her eyes and asked, "Are you two talking about me again?  You know you don't want to get me all demonized at you!"

"Look, it's not even light yet!  It's still dark!
A girl needs her beauty sleep!
Keep her QUIET!"

"Go back to sleep, girl.  We're discussing the true Bi...., er, wonderful woman of the house."

"Oh, her.  Yeah, she woke me up with all that drawer and door banging, too.  You'd think you humans could control your feelings a little better than that."  she yawned.

Faletame joined in, "Damn straight!  She's about a calm as a hurricane meeting a tornado and having a litter of earthquakes!"

"Hey, that 's my wife you two are talking about.  How'd you like me to give you no name brand cat food tonight instead of Little Friskies?"

Faletame's eyes opened up wide, his ears popped up and back, and he started backtracking, "C'mon Rich!  You know I was only kidding!  You guys are the best!  I couldn't ask for better owners!"

You had to be there.  

"Please, Rich ... I'll be good!  Anything to keep from
getting no name brand cat food.  You know ... it's
like, my kingdom for Little Friskies!"

I shook my head and chuckled as I went to the closet and grabbed my coat and gloves.  Oh yeah, gotta get off these slippers and put on some shoes.  What the hell was I thinking anyway?

Finally, the task was done.  Her car was cleaned off of snow, all doors checked and found not to be frozen shut, and the walk cleared to keep her feet dry.   Sometimes, I surprise myself.

When I walked back in the house, things were somewhat different in tone.  Both cats were snoring, coffee was brewing, and my wife actually had a smile on her face.  

But, being her, she never apologized.  

See, my wife lives by the "Love Story" philosophy that "being in love means never having to say you're sorry."   At least that's what she says.

I think her philosophy is actually, "Be a big enough Bi..., er, wonderful woman and you'll always get your way!"

It seems to be working.

"So sorry you had to go to work so early today!
Be safe ... and come home in a better mood!"

Another Life Has Passed

We all lose friends over the years.  Family Members, whether
adopted or natural, tend to hit us a little harder.

Everyone and everything has its time on Earth.    

And then it's over.

Losing a loved one this time of year is not easy.  A family member is especially tough.

Adopted family members are almost as difficult.

In 2003, I adopted a friend.  This friend would live under my roof, be fed on a constant basis, and bask in the warmth of the care I could provide him.  

I awoke this morning to a strange smell in the room.  This smell was similar to a decaying mouse.

No, I've never had a mouse as a household pet.  I don't like mice.  They bite, they crap, they piss in their water bowls, and they don't even display any type of beauty.  Sorry Mickey, even Stuart Little couldn't spend a night in my house, unless he wanted to play with my cats, Faletame and Gabriela all night!  That would be something to watch!

I slide the glass back, carefully lifted up the hide rock, and underneath found my adopted household friend in a somewhat still position.  No prodding would create movement.  Indeed, my friend was stiff as a board.

As life would have it, all era’s must come to an end.  

There's no reason to shed tears!
Life must continue for the living.

In the mid 60’s, I was playing Army in my grandfather’s back forest with a friend of mine.  As I was running across a clearing (and being shot in the back with BB’s) I jumped over a fallen tree.  As I landed, I felt something hit the back of my leg.  Thinking I’d flipped thorns up (and still being shot with BB’s) I ran another step before stopping.  I’d felt something flop against the back of my leg, and needed to investigate.  

Just as I looked down, I saw a copperhead remove itself from the back of my leg and strike again ... and again.   I could only imagine my leg starting forward as it first struck and being carried by the motion of my leg once the fangs entered my calf.  

I spent a couple of days in the hospital that time.    While there, relatives would come by and make statements that I’d never go back in the woods again as I would develop a fear of these animals.  Instead, I developed the need to face my fears and learn all I could about these creatures.

In the late 70’s, a friend of mine, in South Africa, was raising venomous reptiles for research.  I opened a container that held some Cape Cobra (naja Nivea) eggs.  One of the eggs was pushing against another in an attempt of the occupant to hatch.  So, I reached down and adjusted the egg’s position to allow this to happen much easier.

I didn’t know that one had already hatched from the bottom of one of the eggs and was underneath the substrate.

The neonate cobra attached itself to the side of my right hand, little finger and wouldn’t let go.  Such is the life of a feeding response.  It pumped every bit of venom it had into that finger until I could manage to remove it.

After a stay in a South African hospital (and three days on life support), I found that finger to never be the same.  The internal necrosis had eaten away cartilage and tissue which would forever give me the “tea drinker’s” pinkie appearance.

Since that time, I’ve owned upwards of fifty types of venomous reptiles.  My collection has included some of the most venomous species in the world at times.  I’ve had a couple of more bites from slightly venomous species, but never returned to the hospital.  

Then the laws started changing.  

Suddenly it was illegal in the state of Kentucky to own these.  In addition, the city had created its own laws that were even more strict about the keeping of exotics.   My landlord even started including a clause in the lease about them.  So, I either sold or gave away my collection.

I never took a picture of my friend for some reason.
This is one identical to my specimen.

All except one.

The Western Hognose snake has been declared slightly venomous in the last few years.  It won’t kill you, but you can sustain major swelling and possible muscle damage from it’s bite.  However, none of the city or state regulations lists it as venomous as yet. 

It was my last specimen.  My last reminder of the era I’d spent getting pure adrenaline rushes from dealing with death on the end of a snake hook, or in extracting venom days, in my hands.  They provided me a reason to travel many countries of the world I would have never done otherwise, as I hunted them in their natural habitat to supply venom labs with specimens for extractions necessary for the making of antivenins.  

Imagine, being able to hold a living creature that has the ability to kill you with one bite in the flash of a micro second, and surviving!  Oh, I’ve dealt with gators, venomous lizards, and other creatures that could kill you, but there was something so sinister, yet, beautiful in the patterns they wore, as venomous snakes.

Today, my hognose snake died.

The burial was a garbage bag in the trash.  No, I’m not that sentimental about it.

But, for me, the era of venomous snakes is over ... completely.  

My years in dealing with them taught me to always face my fears and never allow fear to rule my life.  That followed me through my times of sky diving, skin diving, stand-up comedy, marriage, and even two years ago when I took a high performance driving class and raced around a sports car track at speeds exceeding 150 mph.   Fear will only hold one back.   Only when you face and overcome these fears will you have an experience to talk about that many others only wish they'd enjoyed.   Healthy respect is always recommended, but fear is nothing more than a hindrance to success and feeling the rush life can truly offer.

I have decided to no longer replace my reptiles, as my wife would be lost in tending for them should I pass on, too.  

It’s another phase of my life that has passed.  Sad, in a way, as it was one that provided many challenges and experiences that I can recall with enthusiasm and cherish for the rest of my life, as my years pass by all to quickly, 

So, now I must find something to replace it.

Time to check out bridge bungee jumping!

Cookies ... Round Or Square? Who Cares?

First things first.

***Julie, I apologize for stealing your photo without asking.  I hope in the spirit of the season, you will not sue me.  I steal it in a sense of sharing the perfect examples of what cookies should look like.  As you will see later, neither they, nor you, have anything to fear from this individual.***

Julie DeNeen's Perfect Cookies And Pastries!!!
See and read more from Julie at  Life According To Julie

As most of you follow Julie's blogs, you know she's is a fanatic in the kitchen, especially this time of year.  Her efforts are well documented in the photo of her efforts that I have stolen without permission.  

My wife has to work tonight, Christmas Eve, in the pharmacy, and all day tomorrow.  I've already volunteered to try to duplicate my Thanksgiving efforts in the kitchen for Christmas Day, but about two hours ago I thought, "Why don't I surprise her and try to make some cookies?"

This may not seem like much of a challenge to most of you.  Let's remember two things here:  1)  I'm a man that has had no training in the kitchen, and 2)  I've already written an entire blog about my efforts and a German Chocolate Cake, that I finally got my wife to bake.  These two items should tell you that what I'm about to relate may not make sense to you, but to me, seemed perfectly normal!

So, not having a tremendous amount of cash, my standard state these days, I remembered seeing Chocolate Chip Cookie mix in Dollar Tree.  I jumped in my Ridgeline, started it up, and hurried there hoping they were still open.  

They were!  Amazing!  

However, I witnessed dirty looks from the cashier as I rushed through the door.  

"We close in ten minutes!"

The voice behind me was somewhat demanding, and somewhat begging in manner.  No fear!  I knew right where the mix was located.

I rushed to the aisle, grabbed three boxes of the mix, rushed to their cooler and picked up a box of Blue Bonnet (just to be safe having not checked at home in advance to see how our home supplies stood), and rushed back to the register.

They were locking the door as I checked out.  Watching the frowning cashier bag up my purchase, I tried to be as friendly as possible and wish the Grinch a Merry Christmas!  

"Yeah, you too."

Whatta season spirit filled greeting!  My insides filled with emotion.  Actually, I'd just drank a Diet Coke on my way to the store and a delayed burping reaction was working its way up my torso.

I passed the store manager (who was arguing with several people that wanted to come in at the door) and headed to the truck.  On my way, a group of five young men (resembling a scene from South Central in the 90's) were assembled close to my truck.  As I jumped in the truck and started it, they made their way over and knocked on the window.  I put the truck in gear, and in the spirit of the season, lowered my window about halfway.

"Yo, bro, I's jes gottsouta jail en needs sumthin ta smoke.  Yo gots a cig, man?"

"Sorry, I don't speak Spanish."

I pulled out a little faster than normal, making sure I didn't turn my lights on, just in case I hit one of them.  Why no lights?   It makes it harder to read the license plate!

Faletame Acting Cool Again!

I make the drive home, walk in the house, and Faletame goes, "Hey Rich, what's to eat tonight?"   

"I don't know, why?"

"Well, you and I know you're going to give me some turkey roast tomorrow, so I was thinking tonight would be a good night for some sort of fish or tuna Little Friskies, instead of chicken or turkey.  You know, poultry two days in a row gets old."

Gabriela looked up from her habitual prone position and agreed with him.  I was outnumbered.

"I'll see what I can do.  First, I've got to make Millie some cookies."

"Cookies?  Hell Rich, you can't make cookies!  Give it up, man!"

Gabriela Agreed ... "Rich, You Can't Bake!"

Perhaps, if Faletame hadn't rolled over on his back laughing so hard, I might not have had thoughts of checking.  However, yep, there it was, a can of turkey Little Friskies left.  Laugh at me will you!  Muhahahah!

Reading the directions, I put all three packages of cookie mix into a bowl.  Next came the three tablespoons of Blue Bonnet, one for each package.  Three teaspoons of water came next.  

But, when I got to the next part, I was paralyzed with fear.  Add three egg yolks read the directions.  Three egg yolks ... how do you separate the yolk from the white?   Not having any idea, nor patience to search endlessly on the web, I simply said the hell with it and put three eggs, whites and yolks, into the mix.  I've never been one for segregation anyway!

I then saw that I was supposed to put the cookies on an "ungreased cookie sheet."  I'd already sprayed the sheet with a cooking spray, so, once again, the hell with it was my reaction.  We must learn by our mistakes.  Right?

I went ahead, measured out slightly rounded teaspoons of cookie mix, and was able to get almost all of the mix on one cookie sheet.  I'd already preheated the oven to 375 degrees, so after sticking them in it, I only had to time them.

As I waited, I changed into my sweats (God Bless Sweats!) and returned.  Bored, I went ahead and reread the box directions.  "Place each teaspoon of dough three inches apart."

"Three Inches!"

Oops!

Okay, Damnit!  I Know I Can't Bake!
Still, Ya Gotta Give A Guy Credit!

This is the picture of the cookies, or what should have been individual cookies.  In this case, it became a mat of cookies.  Oh well, I cut them apart into nice square pieces.  

My wife will be home in less than three hours.  I can't wait to see the look on her face when she sees the container of square cookies awaiting her!  (I'd like to see Julie's when she sees the above picture!)

These aren't hard cookies (must've been the egg whites), but they really don't taste so bad.  I really can't understand why Faletame's laughing so hard.  (He won't be laughing so much when I stick the turkey Little Friskies in front of his face.)

So, Julie, you now know why I stole your picture.  Yours are the picture of perfection.  Mine are not.  

So, let's talk about your German Chocolate Cake making skills!

Merry Christmas to all and to all ... a square cookie!

"Tag" or "Cooties" ... Is There A Difference?

Alas, I've Been Caught For The Second Day In A Row!

I recall a game of my youth!

No, it wasn't tag.  Tag was something you played when you were very young.

The game was called 

"Cooties."

I have no idea where or how it originated, nor care.  It really doesn't matter.  

What I do remember was someone would come up to you, touch your body somewhere (usually not where one would want or appreciate) and holler, "Cooties, Cooties, you've got Cooties!"   We would then do the same to another, generally of the same gender for fear of visiting the Principal's office for inappropriate touching.  (Hey, some of us knew how to use opportunity, even way back then!)

In adult life, the premise of tagging is again taking place.  Chain letters were bad enough, as you had to wonder if the person sending it to you actually had an agreement with Satan and would send terrible things your way if you didn't comply.  

However, this tagging is taking place under the guise of "holiday spirit" and makes one simply feel guilty if they do not return the favor.  (I guess Christmas brings out the youngster in all of us ... well, most.)

I awoke yesterday to having been tagged.  So, I complied and wrote a blog about the experience.  If you missed it (whether intentionally or not), I welcome you to view it here:

Tagged ... Bah! Humbug!

Today, after going to bed at 8 a.m. this morning, I awoke to guess what?   Yep!  Once again, I'd been tagged!

This time, Cyndi Calhoun, another friend of mine, found her normally extremely functional brain to be somewhat demented (it's nice to see others visit the mental state in which I live) had listed me in this continued version of sadistic, oops, continued version of Christmas cheer.   

"Tell us your secrets and make them clear,

we're all friends there's nothing to fear!

Rah, Rah, Zis Bah Boom!"

Can you still do the splits?  I never could.  My voice was too low.


Getting back to Cyndi Calhoun ... here's a person that everyone loves.  (No, not literally, she's not that type of girl!  Shame on you!)  Cyndi is a photographer extraordinaire and creates visual masterpieces with both the camera she uses and the words she pens.  She’s constantly experimenting with various techniques to bring the photo to life for all to enjoy, and is damn good at it.  

Of course, it comes honestly as she got much practice in her previous life.  She fine tuned her skills decades ago as a photographer for the Marquis de Sade.  I think that’s where she picked up this sadistic “tagging” art.   None of those photos still exist (she’s spent most of this life searching them down and destroying them to keep her looking sweet and innocent in the eyes of this life’s friends), but you can visit a tremendous array of her current offerings at:  

pictimilitude.com or "Hi! I'm Cyndi! Call Me! (Okay, I went too far here)

Okay, now to the task at hand.  I must go through the questions in her post and try to find those that I have yet to answer.  (Oh, the humanities!  More work!)  Let’s give this a shot:

1)  What makes Christmas such a special holiday to you and your family?  
It comes after Halloween and Thanksgiving.  Third time’s a charm!   No, in all sincerity, I first need to say I’m not a “church” person.  I don’t usually go to church because I’ve had many negative experiences as an adult with men preaching what they can’t show in the Bible.  (I once had two deacons visit my home and start knocking rock music.  I played them a couple of James Taylor tunes, and then some shit kicking Country selections to compare.  Then, when I asked them to show me any reference to Rock Music in the Bible, it was suddenly time to pray and say goodbye.)

However, I do hold religion very sacred in my heart.  This is the celebration of the birthday of Christ, not a competition to see how much one can spend on gifts.  I think that is lost most of the time.  It is a special day for a very special birthday boy, and recognizing that should make it the most special of days for all families.  (See, I do have a serious side.  Disappointed?)

2)  Were you told the truth about Santa by your parents or did you find out some other way?
You might say I’ve always been the inquisitive ass.  It was always funny to me that my parents needed to know what I wanted Santa to know, and how most of what I wrote in my letter to Santa appeared under the tree.  So, one year, I think second grade, I went snooping.  In their closet I found a vast amount of gifts prior to Christmas Day.  So, either Santa was visiting early (which made me wonder why we left out cookies and milk on Christmas Eve), or Santa was a myth.  When I approached my teacher about it, she said to ask my parents.  That told me a conspiracy was in the air among the adults of the world.  A few weeks later, when Christmas Eve hit, my parents asked me if I wanted to leave out the standard cookies and milk.  I said, “Why?  Santa’s already been here.  He left all the presents in your closet!”   (Have you ever been punished on Christmas Eve for looking in your parents closet?)

3)  What’s your favorite Christmas movie to watch?  Or, Christmas song?
Typically, I’d respond “It’s a Wonderful Life.”  But whoever said I was typical?  Actually, I enjoy “A Christmas Story.”  I won’t watch it over and over and over all day on TBS, but once is okay.  Not only does it have it’s humorous moments, but it’s about a time that I grew up during, when life was much more simple and family oriented.  Plus, I begged for a Daisy BB gun myself one year, and received it.  For years, there was a BB hole in the basement window of my parent’s home that was blamed on a neighbor’s kid that also got one.  I wonder how it got there?

As far as Christmas song, “The Christmas Song” by Jose Feliciano is a tremendous version that I never tire of.  Others have done it well, but Jose’s really comes from the soul.  And, I can never forget one of my first records ever, when I was a child.  It was the Three Stooges singing, “All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth”.   (God, I was a comedy junkie even further back than I originally remembered!)

4)  If you could spend Christmas anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?
I’ve moved so many times in my life, I’ve found it doesn’t matter where you are, but who you’re with.  As long as my wife is by my side, it doesn’t matter.  Christmas is a personal time when emotions run high.  I don’t care about the background scenery, I just want to always see her eyes looking into mine on that day.  (Of course, if Victoria’s Secret called ... there’s always computer cams!)

5)  What’s the best Christmas gift you’ve ever received?
My heart’s discovery of what the day really meant.  After serving in the military, I was living in a cold garage apartment with no funds.  Eating once a day was done only by splitting up a box of Kraft Mac & Cheese into three days of servings.  I knew there was a feast to be held with all of my father’s family only 17 miles away, but I remembered how Christmas had become a competition of who got the most expensive gift.  I wanted none of it, as I felt something was amiss in feeling that way.  I stayed home with my two cats of the time (Avatar and Blackwolf), and watched Christmas programming on a 19” Black & White TV.  I had even restrained my inhaling that day to make sure I kept it holy.  

The next day, I recognized how good I felt.  I had restrained myself from the competition, and strengthened my belief that it was Christ’s day, not ours to taint with petty egos.  I vowed to never compete on that day, but to give all I could in the spirit of the heart and love, instead.  I’ve never been sorry about that decision.  (But, if you'd like to compete, you can send all Christmas gifts to me at ......)

Okay, enough is enough!  

To all that have not been tagged, you’re now tagged!  You’re not getting out of it this easily!  Share your tales of Christmas with all of us!

And remember, I WILL remember you next year if you try to tag me again!  : )

Merry Christmas to all of you, my friends!

May you be blessed with the joy and warmth of eternal love and family togetherness!

(Except the "family togetherness" part in Mississippi and Eastern Kentucky, 

where it has a whole different meaning!)