👎 What’s Below 👎
Boy The Medalist 🏅
Ricky The Trash Eater 🗑️
Sweating It Out 🥵
Waiting for Boy The Younger’s blue-haired head to pop over the rolling southern Missouri countryside for the final sprint to the finish line this morning was torturous. He was running in his final cross-country meet of this, his first season, one that has been pocked by much complaining about actually having to do the very thing he’s been doing essentially since he became bipedal.
BTY has the body of a distance runner. If he turns sideways, you just might miss him. He has the potential to be a really good cross country kid, which I’m sure could serve him well somewhere along the way, though I’m not sure how.
The event was the National Homeschool Cross Country Invitational — which made sense only if I missed the news that Missouri, Oklahoma and Arkansas succeeded from the union to form their own country. BTY got off to his typical slow start, charging up the first hill toward the back of the pack before disappearing down its far slope.
I learned as a cross country parent that having a cross country kid means running for the whole family. Your kid runs by and then you as a parent run to the next spot on the course where he will appear so you can scream encouraging things like “You got this!” and “Keep going!” as if he would just stop and sit down if not for your sage advice.
BTY dyed the front of his hair blue this morning at the hotel, as his team is the St. Louis Blue Knights, so he was easy to spot from a distance. I was settling in to count the number of boys ahead of him — something that at past meets took me into the 20s and 30s — when all of a sudden, there he was. He passed by me in 13th, and by the time he disappeared again he was up to 10th.
We ran once again to get a glimpse of him as he came up yet another hill — this course was brutal — and he was right there, holding his own in 10th. Twice more we saw him, and my boy was going strong. Wifey Poo and I started talking about what positions got medals at this event. It varies from meet to meet. The top 10 did in this one.
With one final run, we reached the boundary to the stretch to the finish. Any regular reader of this will know I’m an emotional guy — annoyingly so. And for whatever reason, seeing my boy work hard and compete in this sport does something to me. So when I saw that blue hair come over the hill with him at a full sprint and no one even close behind him, yeah, fine… I did get choked up. He finished in 10th place. A few hours later, his name was called to come up and receive his medal.
Rock on, BTY. Rock on.
Ricky doesn’t have to eat his food from Dumpsters. He chooses to.
Wifey Poo did the three-and-a-half hour drive back from Springfield today, as I work to get over this Covid booster thing. We listened to a podcast about people who have had interesting things happen to them or who do things that might be considered different.
Like be perfectly able to afford to buy food and instead choose to go Dumpster diving.
Ricky told the podcast-listening world all about how this started as something that he just considered “exciting.” He walked us through the best times to do it without getting harassed by store owners (daytime), things not to do (try to get into locked Dumpsters) and what his wife (yes, he’s married) thinks of his little hobby (she’s grown to accept it.).
This sparked an interesting discussion between Wifey Poo and I about whether what Ricky was doing could be considered “bad.” After all, though it didn’t start out that way, it’s grown to be something he does as something of a stance against American food waste. Or at least that’s what he tells himself.
Wifey Poo and I reached the conclusion that, while gross, it’s not, in fact, bad. That said, I’m never going to dinner at the house of anyone named Ricky ever again.
In Other Writing …
So what exactly is going on here? Well, a lot. This website is various measures of creativity, therapy, safety, career exploration, vanity and insanity (plus a few mystery ingredients I haven’t quite identified yet) — all dumped into one glass, shaken (not stirred) and poured into a 32-ounce Big Gulp cup. To better understand what…Keep reading
The ‘What Did You Say?’ of the Day
Last night was spent in a hotel room with Wifey Poo, Boys The Younger and Elder, one of my nephews and BTE’s girlfriend. (Don’t worry. BTE and his beloved were kept a safe distance apart at all times.)
I remember very little of it. When we left our little country home that afternoon, my fever in the wake of my Thursday Covid booster shot was at 101.1. I’m not sure what it was by the time we arrived, but it wasn’t good. So I crashed in a heap on the bed when Wifey Poo and BTY went to the cross country team’s meal and we waited for the others to arrive from Columbia. I woke up a few times in the night, drenched in my own sweat. But by this morning, I didn’t feel so feverish, and though I’m still on the low end of the energy scale, I’m on my way back.
Today’s Reasons to Keep Living
- Now that the worst of the post-shot illness is over, I have to live long enough to see myself not get Covid again.
- BTY is at the Judester’s tonight. You know what that means? Me and Wifey Poo have the house to ourselves. And you know what that means? No you don’t. It means we get to watch the final episode of the ‘Monsters Inside’ documentary with no interruptions.
- Halloween is tomorrow.
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Road Show Coming to you live from somewhere in the Ozarks, where I’m hoping not to hear banjos and have some inbred redneck hillbilly make me squeal for him. Wifey-Poo and I are in the middle of a weekend getaway. It has been a long while since we’ve had an extended period of time to…Keep reading
And the Thunder Rolls My desk at my new office faces out to a busy street – Manchester Avenue – and has a floor-to-ceiling window. I’m absolutely loving it. At my previous job, my desk was tucked away in a corner behind a cube. I called it “My Hovel.” It was a good place to…Keep reading
Namaste, yo I found myself tonight in a state somewhere between awake and asleep, lying on a yoga mat with 40 pounds of sandbags on my shoulders and chest in a dimly lit studio as soft music tinged by rain sounds caressed my ears. I love this state, and I’ve only found it through meditation…Keep reading
Sell This House Our house hit the market today, which is to say the Great Gods of Google allowed for it to be found by Realtors and anyone else who happens to have a larger-than-average nosy bone. Our Realtor said we could share it with our friends and family. I was trying to think of…Keep reading
Stages of Life Over the years, I’ve found tremendous comfort in the stability of my in-law family, especially with my sisters-in-law and, as time has progressed, their husbands. My own family is pocked by constant drama. It took me a long time to recognize exactly how not-typical my own family is and to realize that…Keep reading
Wakey Wakey My day started off with a bag-full of my blood being drained, filled with ozone and then dripped back into my while I listened to a cancer patient banter about QAnon insanity as if it were gospel with the nurse in charge of my treatment. How was your morning? So Long, Sonny Boy…Keep reading
Interesting Things You Say to Your Spouse “Please don’t get killed by anyone using a sharp object. I don’t want to go to prison for the rest of my life.” This sentence that I said to Wifey-Poo this morning makes sense if you have a spouse who loves murder podcasts and TV shows. My hands…Keep reading
Welcome to the World of Real Estate Starting a new job today was a welcome relief from the drudgery of moving. After getting my ass kicked yesterday in the Great Fridge Swap, I welcomed the opportunity to use my brain instead of whatever physical power I might have left. This is the first time I’m…Keep reading
Perspective Matters I don’t know exactly when I learned it or from whom, but I’ve held “righty-tighty, lefty-loosey” as a Truth-capital-T for a long, long time. Today I learned it’s a matter of perspective. Yesterday, I bragged about how I have become Mr. Fix-It. Today, the God of Home Improvement (Tim Allen?) smacked me in…Keep reading
Begone, Cabinet! There was a time not long ago when I had zero self-confidence with home repair or renovation projects. It seemed as if every time I tried something, I made the situation worse and often a lot worse. This runs counter to my DNA, as my father is constantly tinkering with things and fixing…Keep reading
Moving Is Fun … … when someone else does it. At just before 9 a.m., movers from Two Men and a Truck arrived at our Wentzville house. There were four men. Within three hours, they’d loaded up all the crap we had boxed and the furniture and other assorted LifeJunk we’ve accumulated through the years.…Keep reading
He Got the Shot I took Boy the Younger to get his first COVID vaccine today. He’s 12. I consider this the socially responsible thing to do, and, after struggling for months now with Longhaul COVID, I’m really not all that open to hearing the other side of the vaccine debate. I’ve made up my…Keep reading