They Say It's Your Birthday

Adam on day one:



















Adam on day 10, 266 (28 years):

Real Men

Warning! Serious, Sentimental Post Ahead! Warning!

When I was a little Adam I remember my mom playing an album with a strange drawing on it of a man sitting at a piano. That album was Joe Jackson's "Night and Day." She would play this regularly when it was just her and I at home but I never grew sick of it. When I inherited her vinyl collection this was the first one that got a spin on the new turntable.

The jewel of this album is the song "Real Men." When I heard it as a child I obviously could not comprehend it's meaning, but I knew it was a powerful song that was full of emotion. Now that I've had a chance to revisit it, I can tell you that it is all that and more. I fell that I should share it with you all and maybe you can enjoy it too. The video is corny, but remember, it was the early 80s and no one really knew what they were doing yet as far as music videos went. As a matter of fact, why don't you minimize the screen and just listen to it the first time around, then you can go back and poke fun at the video. Here are the lyrics in case you want to read along. Enjoy!

Wexford's Target

Two of my favorite things have now combined forces. Wexford, PA's own Christina Aguilera and Minneapolis' own Target. I hope they use this power for good. Too bad I have to buy this from iTunes and not Target. Sorry, but who needs CD's anymore? Christina, you are as hot as ever though...Even if the freeze frame of the youtube video isn't that flattering. Oh Nooooooo!

Fun With The Interwebs

Create your own Muppet I don't think I've had this much fun since the Simpson's character and the South Park character creators. The only downside is that it won't let me save the image so you all could see. I'm sure there is some computer nerd way to do this, but I don't care that much.

The Internet inventor approves this message.

The Breakup

Today I quit my second job in under three months.

When I started back to school I had in mind that I would need some sort of part time job to give me some play money. I wasn't really sure what to do though. I came across an add in the school paper for Box Store. I went in for the interview and it seemed like a job I could handle. The first day I started I found out I was wrong.

I despise being micro managed. The owner of Box Store was there all the time. He didn't trust his employees. He talked down to them. All signs of bad leadership. I was in charge of a few folks in my military days and I was never condescending to them like this guy was.

Today I was working, minding my own business when Boss tried to correct me. Afterwords I was caught rolling my eyes. He says "What was that look for?" I responded "What? Look?" So we kind of just brushed that one off.

A few hours later he asks me "Do you remember yesterday when we were discussing writing down what you were doing?" (They had the Scrap Paper system. If I was helping you do something I was supposed to keep notes on a small piece of paper so that way if my coworker took over for me, he knew what I was doing.) I looked at him and said "Yeah sure I remember that."
"Well yesterday when a lady came in and needed help you didn't write down what you did. You had to come from across the store and tell me. Did you not think it was important to do that?"
"Wait! When?" I asked.
"Yesterday."
"When?!"
"Yesterday."
"OK so you're trying to correct me for something minor that I did over 24 hours ago? I'm sorry Boss, but that doesn't fly. I'm not blowing you off, but if that's what you think that's fine too."

I went back out to do some more work and mind my own business again. About 20 minutes later I was summoned back to the office again. "You know, Adam. This just isn't going to work out" he said. "We're just going to have to part ways."
"Yeah we are" I replied. "I was going to make this my last shift anyway."
"So why did you have such an attitude with us?"
"You really want to know? (I didn't wait for an answer) Well, first, your employees don't respect you. You talk down to them, you micromanage them, you talk to everyone like they're stupid. The problem is that they don't know enough to call you out on it. They're young boys who have been in school all their lives and they only know people talking down to them. I was in charge of a lot of kids younger than them and I would never treat them like you treat these boys. They're smart. Trust them."

"Secondly, you nickle and dime your customers. A gentleman came in here the other day and spent almost $200 dollars, yet you made sure to make sure he was charged for those four copies he made at 17 cents a piece. You're all about customer service but you don't hook your repeat customers up here and there."

I'm sure more was said, but I was in a "blind rage." All I remember is Jack (co-worker) looking at me with a "Right on, man! F'n A!" look.

Guess it's back to the drawing board.

It's Not Gay if You Say "Good Game!"

When I was in Maryland and even in Virginia I used to drive by a "scenic overlook" sign outside of Frederick on I-270. I used to always think that I should stop and check it out. I forgot about it for the most part after I stopped driving by it. Before I moved to Ohio I figured I should stop and check it out since I didn't know when I'd be by again.

I pulled in to see some scenery and a few historical markers with a small mix of picnic tables. I noticed a few cars around so I parked and headed over towards the markers. Apparently it was the site of some Civil War skirmish which, being a history nerd, peaked my interest. As I was reading a middle aged man came over towards me and mumbled some sort of greeting. I returned the favor and finished reading. As I looked up he was still there. He mentioned something about the scenery and I agreed that it wasn't too bad.

He then looked at me and said "Well looks like it's just us two."
"Yeah, that it is." I said as I looked around and backed up slowly.
He then said something about being safe or careful or something weird. Immediately the alarms started sounding and I decided that it was time to run the fuck away. Fast. I don't know, but I think that I was propositioned. I always thought those rest stop stories were a myth, but apparently this guy was the myth buster.

Comment Interest

I decided to wipe the comments from now on. Nothing personal. It's just that I have an e-mail address (some of you have both) and the only thing I've gotten in the Ramshackle In Box is a few from Mike, a guy from Botswana telling me I've inherited millions and a girl who promises to make my penis bigger. I really appreciate her offer and as soon as the guy sends me my money I'm on the first plane to Cali!

I Aint Got Time To Bleed

I've been told that a new post is needed. I'm game, the problem is that I'm busy. I don't mean like, "Go away kid. We'll play catch later." busy, I mean my damn head hurts busy. I mean I hate looking at my fucking laptop anymore busy. I haven't gone on a date in months busy.

I've never been good at time management, so I'm learning by trial and error and it's been mostly error. I've got a six pager due next week on some topic that I really don't give a shit about and a four pager due this week on a topic that isn't as interesting as I thought it would be. I've kind of dug myself into a hole on the homework. We get some nightly assignments on top of papers and tests. It's a royal pain in my Royal Irish Ass!

I am hereby placing requests for any and all tips on time management in relation to college life. First I'll lay out what I do have:
Day planner with big spaces for each day.
Syllabi for each class laying out the assignments and general class time.
A six year old who does require his daddy time.

The social life seems to have been put on the back burner so if there is room for that too, let me know.

Last time I was this busy was when that bus full of Swedish women broke down in front of my house. They all insisted on staying in my room with me because they were afraid of being left alone. They also forgot their night clothes so they had to sleep naked. I was only being a humanitarian at that point.

Oh yeah, I'm trying out for the Jeopardy! college tournament tonight too. Wish me luck. I'll let you know how that goes as soon as I get my results.

And your King and Queen are...

I've decided to bring my old composition book out of retirement and take notes during the day. This way when I can get on my computer and bring you a post I can remember what it was that caught me as funny that day. There is no shortage of entertainment these days either.

The biggest thing on my mind right now is the Homecoming Dilemma. I recently learned that my school has a Homecoming dance. Yes, it is just like the high school version complete with a court and a planning committee. This of course brought out jokes of Dad driving my date and me, "be careful when pinning on the corsage", is someone having a party afterwards, are you two going to do it, etc. If you can think of all the drama and cliches associated with Homecoming you can guess the jokes I made.

Over the past few days I've gotten to know some of my classmates and I have heard conversation of the dance. I was asked if I was going. I stared blankly and said, "I don't know." "Well, you should go." they said "It'll be a good time." Honestly, part of me really wants to go. It's a chance to get dolled up and out of the house.

Now, here's the moral dilemma: Most of the girls I've met and interact with cannot buy their own beer yet. They're legal, but just barely (see what I did there?). I really don't want to go there. But, at the same time, that's who I see daily. Wonder if they have older sisters?

I have met two who are in my own age group, however. One works at the school (good looking, laughs at my jokes). The other one cuts my hair (also good looking, very sarcastic sense of humor). I have had pretty decent and flirty conversations with both and they are both intelligent and I wouldn't mind being seen in public with them.

So there we have it. Homecoming, looks, age, and the fear of Chris Hansen. What do you all think?

Week 1 Done

Coming to you live from the library I am officially a college student, not because I'm taking classes, but because I'm blowing off work on those classes to do something completely unrelated. All kidding aside, I am very happy to be here. It's been a long road to get to this campus. I plan to get all I can out of these folks because, dammit I'm paying them enough!

So far my classes have been worthwhile. A lot of reading! I've not read for retention in 1o years, I've only read for pleasure. That really isn't that big of a deal though, I'm quickly getting the hang of it. The age difference isn't too bad either, but you can tell that it's there. One of the kids in my history class is in the ROTC who is already committed to the Army and he sounds just like I did before I went to boot camp. The headstrong, naive, bullet proof feeling of them fascinates me. I know I'm not old by any means, but it's interesting to listen to their take on the world around them and what they think and want their lives should be like.

The school's radio station put out a call for DJ's and I've decided that I am going to go for it. I think it would be a riot to have my own show. I just hope everyone else will appreciate it. I'm thinking that it would be fun to have someone else with me in the studio because I tend to be a lot more humorous when I can play off the energy of someone else. We'll see how it goes...

They Took The Pool?

Not to fear, new posts are coming soon and I have a feeling that I will have plenty of material with the coming school year. The biggest one being that I'm 10 years older than most of my classmates. Amazing how fast that decade has gone. I still feel like I just graduated this past May.

I'm surrounded by boxes and I still need to fill some more, so I'll see you in Ohio.

Meeting With The Bobs

I gave my notice (finally). Much to my surprise, there were no shouting matches or long winded statements of how I was making the worst decision of my life. As I've said before, I don't know why I was expecting that. Oh well. I simply went in to the manager's office, handed him my letter and said, "This is my notice. I've had several pieces fall in to place and it's an opportunity that I just can't pass up." He complimented me on my decision saying that I was bettering myself and no one could look down on me for that. We had a nice conversation for about 45 minutes; I don't think I've talked to him that long since my interview.

One mountain climbed, the Himalayas to go.

Welcome back! I quit.

This is the big week when I tell my company that I will no longer be working for them. There are two things that make this weird for me, 1) the last job I quit was in high school. I just walked in and said, "I'm joining the military, so I'm going to enjoy my last month of freedom. See ya!" and 2) the last job I held I couldn't quit without going to jail or something else unpleasant. Because of that little problem I found myself not really knowing how to go about this; I consulted the internets. I found a jubilee of resignation letter templates that will do so apparently quitting is not as hard as I would have imagined.

Like usual I found the best advice came from our friend, Mike. I've decided to go the route he did and treat my quitting like a break up with less yelling and hopefully they don't throw my stuff on the front lawn because I still have to pay the sugar daddies over in the apartment complex office. However, just like breaking up, I'm finding that there is really no good time.

My boss was on vacation last week and on his way home he ran into some problems which prevented him from coming to work on Monday, one day gone. Then he got home to find someone had pulled a hit and run on his car so he spent Tuesday with that mess, two days gone. Today he's sick or something, three days gone. I hate to dump this on him too so soon after such a bad week, but I'm running out of time to give them proper notice.

Either way, I'll probably wait until Friday because, "We find it's always better to fire people on a Friday. Studies have statistically shown that there's less chance of an incident if you do it at the end of the week." (+10 if you know the movie)

Tuck and Shave

Of all the postings here it dawned on me that I've never told any humorous military stories, so to fix that I'll share my favorite of all time.


As anyone who has been through boot camp will tell you that we did a lot of stupid things daily that made no sense. One such practice was tucking our shirts into everything. If you're wearing uniform pants, tuck your shirt in. If you're wearing exercise (PT) shorts, tuck your shirt in. If you're wearing a sweat suit, tuck your sweatshirt in. The point: We always had to have our damn shirts tucked in.

The military also has written directives on how to do almost everything. One such directive is the "Marine Corps Grooming Standard" that dictates our hair cut, our weight, our glasses, and how wear our clothes. There is a line that specifically states "The face will be clean-shaven, except that a mustache may be worn." It's that first part that got me in trouble. We didn't learn verbatim the shaving part, but we did shave everyday so maybe they figured we'd keep up the practice or maybe I was just sick that day.

I have the curse of having a 5 O'clock shadow by noon, because of this, shaving everyday for me is not only a pain in the ass figuratively it's a pain on my face literally. I countered this by not shaving all weekend or on days off so I could give myself a break. This was all well and good if I would have had my own place to live outside the gates, but when you live on base there are countless number of people who are waiting to not only point out your problem but also tell you loudly, it makes for some drama. One such incident occurred when I went shopping with the wife.

It was a typical Saturday morning, I was sitting on the sofa in my boxers drinking coffee watching TV when the wife then says, "I want to go to the mall." So I head to the mall without shaving. It didn't cross my mind until who should come walking the other way but the Sergeant Major who is a career grunt who is going through culture shock by serving in his first Intelligence Battalion in over 20 years. We didn't get along. He worked harder and I worked smarter. The two worlds could not be further opposite.

Upon seeing him I quickly did what any man would do in that situation, I hid in the nearest store in hopes that he wouldn't see me or my "Elvis Beard"(I know Elvis never wore a beard, but to many a Sergeant Major he did and, he was also used to illustrate all contradictions to the grooming standard.). After he passed I went back to my wife who was standing in the center of the mall with a very confused and annoyed look on her face. I thought I was safe; but come Monday it was apparent that I thought wrong.

As I passed his office I hear "Lance Corporal!" I tried the dumb approach and entered his office with a smile (Mistake 1) and said, "Good morning Sergeant Major! What can I do for you?" (Mistake 2) He told me that entrance was disrespectful and he'd address that shortly but first, "Didn't they teach you in boot camp to shave every day? Didn't you're highly motivated, truly dedicated Drill Instructors tell you that a Marine is to be clean shaven daily?" To which my prep school smugness kicked in and I responded with a very dry, "Yes Sergeant Major my DI's did have me shave everyday, but then again, they also had us tuck our t-shirts into our underwear so I just figured it was another cruel joke." As I watched his eyes bulge, his face turn red, his teeth began to grind, and I notice the vein on his forehead begin to swell I knew I was in for a real treat. He proceeded to verbally assault everything about me except my mother.

I expected this reaction, so the yelling didn't really bother me. What I took away from the whole thing, however, was this: The Sergeant Major was not a witty man. If he was he would have told me to pull my pants down to make sure my T-shirt was tucked into my underwear and then yelled at me for that too.

Make 'em an Offer He Can't Refuse

The contract that I work on is up for renewal this year. Because of this many companies, including mine, are submitting bids to the government. A few weeks back Bossman brought in "commitment letters" for us to sign. At first we were a little worried about signing them but after reading them our fears were subsided. The letter simply stated that we would not give our resume to a competing bidder. I could go to another company if I so wished, but I couldn't have that company submit my resume as part of their package for my current job. Clear as mud? Good, let's move on!

I had no problem saying that I wouldn't give my resume to someone else because I honestly had no intention of doing that. Mostly because I know I'll be gone by the end of August anyway, but even if I wasn't I'm fairly content in my current position. I signed the letter and returned it to Bossman with a fake smile.

We had a meeting a few days later where Bosslady (who is higher up the chain) addressed the issue of the commitment letters. Her stance was, "If you're not committed to Company than Company is not committed to you and your resume will not be submitted as part of our package." I don't know what she meant, but I took it as a notice to look for another job if you don't sign these things.

Now we come to yesterday. I arrive to work and before I even sit down I'm told that the commitment letter has to be signed again because there was a rewording. Fine. Bossman brings new letters and they say the same thing except for this little paragraph at the bottom that states, "Upon reward I will be available for immediate start and will remain with the contract for a minimum of six months..." I looked at Bossman and said, "I can't promise you six months. It's nothing personal, but there is no way I can guarantee that." The others looked at me with shock. Eyebrows raised. Mouths dropped open. Car tires screeched in the background. If there was music it would have played "Dun Dun Daaaaaa". I basically gave my notice three weeks earlier than I wanted to.

Now, you're probably thinking, "You're leaving anyway, no big deal that you didn't sign!" And your are correct, however, even if I wasn't leaving I'd have a hard time with these letters. I get emails daily about positions that are opening from other companies as well as my own. If I had signed this and got an offer paying me more money closer to home I would be unable to pursue that job. As a financially strapped single parent my eyes where always open to better opportunities. Since I've decided on going back to school my interest has weened, but prior to that I gave every opening a thorough look. I would be unable to do that if I signed.

Over all I'm not worried about it because my path is set already. I feel bad for those that signed it and will get screwed over by it. I feel even worse for those that drank the Kool-Aide and signed it blindly. After two contracts with the military I am wary of any employment contracts. I'm also new to the civilian world so I'm not sure if this is something I can expect, but it doesn't seem to be common practice. Only time will tell. As for now, I wonder if the next six weeks will bring about any blow back from above.

What's That Smell?

After I picked up Quentin I was at a light preparing for the Beltway Battle. I had my windows down to enjoy the low humidity when a strange yet familiar smell entered the truck. I looked to my immediate right at the young woman yammering on her cell phone thinking maybe it was her, but she had the windows up. I looked behind me to see Quentin and an empty lane. I then look a lane over to see a gentleman take a drag off a hand rolled cigarette, hold in the smoke, and then release some more of that sweet scent I had just noticed.

I've seen people smoke weed before, but never so brazenly. This guy was in traffic, during rush hour, puffing away without a care in the world. The best part of this whole exchange was that two blocks behind us were about three cops arresting arresting a couple of guys. Maybe he bought the weed from them.

George Carlin

Another week begins and another death of a prominent figure greets us there. George Carlin was absolutely one of my favorite comedians ever. His ability to put together a routine on the most mundane of life experiences is something that I always enjoyed, looked forward too, and I will miss greatly.

Quentin will forever know him as the narrator for his Thomas & Friends movies and the voice of Fillmore in Cars.

He is most famous for the Seven Dirty Words but my favorite is the difference between football and baseball.




I cannot walk into an airport without thinking of this:
Part One


Part 2

My Thoughts On Tim Russert

You all know what happened so there is no need to reiterate the details. There were also a copious amount of tribute shows this weekend telling you what a great man he was so I'm not going to repeat that either. I'll just say that I didn't watch Meet the Press every week although I should have. I always enjoyed how brilliant he was in hiding his own agenda. He was "tough but fair" to folks from both sides of the aisle. When he took over the show he called the show's creator and asked what his vision was when they started and he told Tim to, "learn as much as you can about the guest's views and opinions; then take the opposite side." In doing this he was quite possibly the best interviewer I have ever watched.

If you've never had the pleasure of seeing any of his interviews I would urge all of you to go to Youtube and watch some of the videos. Don't pay the comment section too much attention. Those guys are assholes of the highest degree.

If you would like to read more, you can start with the Wikipedia entry. There are several links and references on that page to other sites. He was an interesting man who worked in politics, journalism, and even showed up to Woodstock "wearing a Bills jersey and carrying a case of beer."

Russert questioning Stephen Colbert as to why it's pronounced Bert and not Ber.

Oh Happy Day!

Today started off as a normal day; Quentin moving at his own speed, me fumbling around trying to figure out what to do next, and the TV telling me how hot it's going to be and how much traffic to expect. In preparation for today's heat I donned my white polo shirt and packed shorts to change into for the Battle of the Beltway drive home.

We got out the door at a pretty good time and I dropped Quentin off at daycare, that's when it happened. For the second week in a row, I dribbled coffee on my white shirt. This is something that I live in constant fear of every morning. Last week it didn't happen until I was turning into the work parking lot, no going home to change there. Today I was relatively close to home so a dilemma faced me: go change shirts or try to tough it out at work. I chose the former. I darted home while loudly cursing every traffic light that decided it would turn red as I approached it. I finally got in the house, took off the shirt, ran it under water, changed into another darker polo, and made it to work only 15 minutes late.

I left my cell phone in the truck so I went back outside to get it when I looked down and noticed a fresh brown spot on my shirt. I have a great week ahead of me.

It's In The Papers!

I am now officially a published photographer. There was a photo contest in a local newspaper and I was chosen as the winner. You can see the online version here. It also comes with my first negative review! What a day!

I figured that I'd get some sort of bashing at some point in my photography life, but this guy just pissed me off. As you all should know by now, I can't let things go, so I responded by politely telling him to go fornicate with himself. Actually it didn't really piss me off too much, I chuckled when I read it, but either way, I can't let it go without defending myself. I just hope in doing so I didn't look like some snooty artist wanna-be.