Wrapping Up 2016

Where has this year gone? I haven't even been keeping up in the blog much this year. Been almost a year since I've written anything.

It hasn't really been a good year. 2016 started with me moving out of Baraboo. It's a little bit of a trek to get to work now, but it is $75 less rent and no water bill. I'm not quite spending that much extra in gas, but the apartment is exactly the same as where I moved from in size... like the building is identical... it was a great find. Gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's ok. Then half the time I wonder why I even have a two bedroom apartment and king size bed since I almost always sleep in the recliner in the living room.

I didn't get to travel as much as I would have liked to this summer. More about why later.

My old high school sweetheart got in touch with me last November. In December, I drove out to Colorado to see him. Alone. That was quite a trip. I took Thursday and Friday off work, got back Sunday morning around 0200, and had to be to work at noon on Sunday. Fun trip. I have never done that before... it was kind of fun. Lonely, but I encourage you that if you ever get a chance to take a trip across a couple states by yourself, do it.

I went to visit him again in June. This time I took the northern route across MN and SD and stopped in Sioux Falls. Hence the new cover pic here on the blog. On the way home on that trip, I got pulled over three times within an hour for a burnt out headlight.... once west of Omaha, once in Omaha, and once just across the border in Iowa... all by State Troopers... Apparently in Nebraska they care more about burnt out headlights than the idiot who flew past me going way beyond the speed limit just a moment prior...

Then we went to see him again in July. This time my Dad drove and we took my niece with us. Took her to see the Falls also. Brought him back with us. That lasted about two months... on Sept. 2nd I packed him up and dropped him off at the Greyhound station and sent him back to CO. Wish it would have worked out.

So that's been about the extent of any fun this year. We went to Noah's Ark on my birthday. I haven't been there in about 8 years, and it wasn't as fun as I remembered it. I don't know if it's because I am bigger (vertically and horizontally) or just because I never really cared for that water park to begin with, but at least we had a nice hot day for it. I tried to have fun. It wasn't much fun. It was actually kind of terrifying. Once we got in... that was a slight battle... including me snapping on some customer in line behind us due to him interjecting his opinion that wasn't necessary. Going airborne in the tubes on the slides and landing hard, ouch. Waiting in line for rides. The best part of Flash Flood (the bridge) was closed. We mostly hung out in the Wave Pool and the lazy river. I'd rather have Riverview Park and Waterworld back.

The biggest reason my fun was limited this year is because I got my first DUI in May. That was an experience I never want to go through again. Aside from having to make this phone call at 2:30 in the morning:

"Happy Mother's Day Mom.... can you come pick me up?"

"Where are you?"

"Reedsburg Police Department..."

Yes, it was Mother's Day... the early morning hours... I was coming home after a night of drinking with some friends at their place, didn't even consider trying to find a place to stay. Stopped at a red light in Reedsburg, look in the mirror, nobody there, look in the mirror again, squad car behind me. As soon as the light turns green, he lights me up. I barely had the open bottle in my hand dropped into the cooler on the seat next to me and he is at my window.

My brake lights were inoperable.

And so was I.

I didn't try to hide it. There was no way I could. I failed field sobriety tests. I blew a .149 on the PBT.

I get arrested and taken to the PD. They were nice enough to have another officer come and park my vehicle on a side street instead of towing it.

Then they need to do a blood draw. Paramedic can't find my vein. That results in being handcuffed again and shackled and off to the ER in the squad car.

On the way to the ER, I got pretty upset. I told the officer now I have to pay for an ER visit because the city had an incompetent paramedic. The officer replied "trust me, he wouldn't have been my first choice either."

In and out of the ER. On the way back to the PD I asked the officer if the brake lights being out was the only reason I was pulled over; was I driving fine?

He replied yes.

But he continued to say that he is glad he stopped me because he would have hated to respond to find me wrapped around a tree or worse.

By the time we got back to the PD, my parents were there to fetch my car and drive me home. I walked out with a citation for the open container, one for driving under the influence, and a third for operating with a prohibited alcohol content.

I was told my license would be revoked on June 13th. Which is why I went to see my friend in CO the week prior. Discovering that while I was in CO, my license was revoked... but I lucked out big time... I was not valid when I got pulled over those three times in NE and IA... but I don't think they checked... that was a huge stressful mess... I was freaking out... but completely lucked out.

Then began the process of trying to get an occupational license so I could still drive to work. I call my insurance company... they didn't know how to handle it as I had to get SR22 insurance. I called the Baraboo branch of my company and they were able to help me out, but I had to have nearly $300 down and then my insurance would nearly double... in May, I paid $69 for full coverage on the car. In June, I would be paying $143, and then $140 a month for the next five months. Ouch.

The process alone at the DMV was a nightmare. Essentially it took about three hours and two different visits on two separate days to get it all straightened out to where I was somewhat valid to drive; at least I could get to work. $50 to get that. It'll be $200 to get my regular valid license back next week.

Then came the driver safety assessment. I had to put $50 down to schedule it, then pay the other $200 on the day of the appointment.

Then there was court and the fines, totaling over $1,000.... paying monthly on that forever I will be...

And a week later I get a speeding ticket in another county. Oy.

Yes, I hope 2017 goes much better for me.

Don't drink and drive.

No Longer Just Squeex N Me.

Because she is now in a box on my desk.

It was like a week before Christmas. I got her back the day before Christmas Eve. In that box. 

This is just too painful to write at the moment. She's gone. RIP baby girl. 

I got Aries now. She's a cuddler. Adopted from Adams County Humane Society. Hyper little thing. But she keeps me entertained. She's about five months old now and sprouting like a weed. 

She'll never replace Squeex because Squeex was with me through it all. 

"You Chase Storms?" Part 2

            Okay, I lied. I am not going to get to what I said I would elaborate on in this post.

           

Saturday, June 7^th, 2008. I was working as a lifeguard at a small hotel in the Dells. My hours were 2 p.m. to 6 p.m. I hadn’t seen a soul in the indoor or outdoor waterpark, which was surprising since it was rather warm and humid. It was less than an hour into my shift when I heard the tornado sirens going off in Lake Delton. I knew it wasn’t a test, as they didn’t do those on Saturdays. I also knew it wasn’t the fire warning siren because the tornado siren is a steady on three-minute tone, while the fire siren is a wavering up and down tone.

I went inside and asked the lone front desk clerk if she had a weather radio. She said no, and asked why. I replied that the tornado sirens were going off in Lake Delton. She called their sister hotel on the other side of town and was told they didn’t know anything about it. I went back outside and looked west. The sun was out. It was hot. Conditions were definitely right for storms and tornadic weather. I knew mom and dad were not home; I don’t remember what they had going on that day, so I couldn’t call them. Since my brother lived two counties west, I called him and asked him to check the radar for me because we had tornado sirens going off but it was sunny.

“Where are you?” He asked me worriedly, with a stern voice. “Tell me where you are RIGHT NOW.” I replied that I was at work at a hotel on the Parkway. He says, “Find shelter NOW. There’s a red hot tornado-warned cell just to your west, near Elroy, and it’s headed right for the Dells.”

I told him I would call him back after it passed so he knew I was okay. I turned off the waterslide, then ran inside and told the clerk that we needed to get everyone into the basement if they had a basement or into the hallways, as there was a bad storm with a possible tornado approaching. Well… she freaked out more than I had ever seen anyone freak out, got on the phone to the other hotel, then unlocked the basement door, ran into the restaurant attached to the hotel lobby and put me in charge of getting all those customers into the basement as she ran to alert guests in the other three buildings that housed the hotel rooms. She returned saying she could not find anyone but one guest and he refused to come to the basement. Right after she got inside and I locked the door, it began to downpour. Raining sheets and it came out of nowhere. I get the large metal roll door closed and proceed to the basement to ride the storm out with 45 strangers of all ages and a freaked out front desk clerk. I kept telling her that she needed to calm down so she did not freak out the patrons, especially the children.

The restaurant off the hotel lobby was a pizza buffet, and some of the patrons had brought their plates to the basement with them and just kept eating, as if nothing was going on.

During the storm, one of my supervisors came to pick me up. I left the freaked out clerk there in the basement with all those guests, but she told me to go. I was crammed into the front seat of his Chevy S-10 pickup truck with him and the other lifeguard from the sister hotel they had come from. Traffic was horribly backed up (as it always is in the Dells when it rains), there was about a foot of water at the bottom of the hill by Noah’s Ark, signs were blown over, there was small and medium tree debris everywhere, power was out, phone lines were jammed.

Downtown was even worse. Taste of the Dells event was going on but all the tents and canopies had blown away or were shredded from the wind. Larger trees and billboards were blown over. The Park Restaurant sign was shattered and in pieces across Broadway and into Bowman Park across the street. Traffic was bumper to bumper. By the time I was dropped off at home on the east side of downtown, the sun was out again and chainsaws could be heard.

I do not believe there was a confirmed tornado that day (that would take some more research) but people were claiming there were three funnel clouds sighted: one near the airport, one near exit 85, and another over Mt. Olympus. But I’ve never seen straight line winds do this:

I suited up in my rain pants, boots, and work gloves and headed to my friend’s place down the street from my cabin. I assisted them in moving some large trees from the alley behind their house then headed up by the park. Everyone appeared to be okay had assistance so they didn’t need ours, and it was probably an hour or so before I could get through to anyone on the phone to let them know I was okay. So I returned home, grabbed my camera and jumped in my car to go inspect the damage.

The following night, I was posted to security detail at a different hotel on the Parkway. It had been raining on and off all day. Around 0230 on Monday morning, dispatch asked an officer to check the water levels on Lake Delton because she had a resident on the phone stating the water was reaching his waterfront home. About 0430 Monday morning, they began recruiting volunteers to help fill sand bags. At 0630, they began evacuating homes around the lake. At 0658, two minutes before the end of my shift, the power goes out. I didn’t think anything of it. I went home and went straight to bed.

I woke up and headed up to my parent’s house. I was only there a short period of time when mom turned on the weather channel. I looked up to see video of the earth underneath a house on Lake Delton wash away and the house float away and drain into the Wisconsin River, along with the rest of the lake. At 0658 that morning when the power went out at work is when the earth around the lake eroded and our beloved Lake Delton drained away like a bathtub into the Wisconsin River within a couple of hours.

The summer of 2008 was rather interesting here in the Wisconsin Dells area. Tourists believed that the Dells was “gone” after it was wiped out by a tornado then the lake drained and flooded away the rest of the Dells. Another rumor was that the Lake Delton Dam broke, but that was not true either as the dam was intact and south of the point where the lake broke through and drained. The Tommy Bartlett’s Ski, Sky, and Stage Show just turned into a Stage show as he sent his water skiers to Florida for the summer. The freeway was closed in several areas downriver as the water reached the highway. Working security at the lakeside hotels was slightly unnerving looking out into a scary, dark mud pit instead of the small waves reflecting in the moon light. Cleanup commenced in the lake and some old artifacts believed to be from Al Capone’s days were unburied from the mud.

But, we returned. The road was rebuilt and a small park and historical marker were erected in that spot where the lake breached. The spillway on the creek that flows into the lake was opened up and the lake was refilled by the following summer. Granted, I didn’t really get to chase these except for some cool pictures afterwards, but they were probably the craziest disasters to hit and have an effect closest to home. 

"You Chase Storms?"

If you had told me when I was a kid that I was going to grow up to enjoy thunderstorms and tornadoes, I would have laughed in your face. I was petrified of storms… along with everything else. If there was even a slight chance of storms during the overnight hours, I would drag my sleeping bag down to my parent’s bedroom and sleep on the floor next to their bed. Until one morning Dad woke up and tripped over me. Then I graduated to sleeping on the couch in the living room on stormy nights. There was just something about being further away from the lightning (my bedroom was upstairs) and in the middle of the house that made it better.

Also, it’s not like we lived in Tornado Alley. The only tornado I remember hitting our county in my lifetime wiped out the town approximately 25 miles to our north on a Saturday night in late August in the mid 90’s. It was the weekend after school started my 6^th grade year. I remember that Dad was at work, Mom was home with my brother and I and we were watching Walker, Texas Ranger on Channel 7 when the storm warnings started coming across the scroller. At about 9:40 p.m. we went into the basement with the radio and police scanner, listening to the local radio station that always thought their listeners had a sense of humor because they would always play Garth Brooks’ song “The Thunder Rolls” during a storm. They were talking to the firefighters who had set up spotting along the river for the best view of the western sky and then we heard a deputy say on the scanner that a water heater just landed on the highway in front of his squad car. I was terrified, because that’s when I started hearing noises upstairs and thought the tornado was ripping our house apart, but it was just Dad coming home from work and joining us in the basement. An elderly couple died in that tornado, and to this day, the foundation where their house stood is still there. I do remember being upset because my brother got out of school for two days to go assist with the cleanup, but only the high school kids got to do that. Back then, us 6th graders were still in the elementary school so we were considered “too little” to help with cleanup.

Our neighbor was a single Mom of one, and did not like being home alone during storms, so she would always send her son over when a storm was imminent and ask if we wanted to take cover in her basement. We usually would go over there; her basement was much nicer, less scary, and had fewer creepy crawly things than ours did.

I do not recall what piqued my interest. I know it had to be sometime between the Big Flats tornado in the mid-90’s and summer of 2003, when I lived in downtown Dells. I got caught in a nice storm in the early a.m. hours and instead of taking cover, ran inside to fetch my video camera and stood under the overhang while the sky turned green, the wind whipped the trees, and the rain deluged. I remember telling my Dad in the truck one day that I would like to watch a tornado from a distance once, just to say I had seen one, and then run in and help with search and rescue or cleanup. That never happened. Our church association had a Disaster Relief team that I wanted to get involved with, but again, adolescence and funding prevented that.

Even the movie “Twister” scared me. I still cannot watch it alone after dark. It’s not like I saw that movie and was like “cool… let’s go chase tornadoes!” I was along the lines of everyone else thinking those people were insane.

I started going to National Weather Service (NWS) Storm Spotter training around 2002 or 2003. I seriously do not remember what made me go from being terrified of storms to chasing them, but I’m kind of a weird chaser. I don’t even really consider myself a chaser. I’m definitely a spotter. I look at the radar or out the window and say “yep…it’s gonna storm…” I know how to read radar and the hazardous weather outlooks but not all the other weather data put out by the Storm Prediction Center (SPC).

It may have been the invention of digital photography that did it for me… the capability to view pictures immediately and delete them if they don’t turn out, instead of waiting until they’re developed to discover I wasted an entire roll of film on crappy pictures. Because I would definitely say that I’m a weather photographer. I take more pictures of sunsets, cloud formations, and scenery than of anything else. Yet I will still be the one running for cover when a storm is approaching, or planning ahead and grabbing Squeex and my laptop and driving 45 miles north to the safety of my parent’s basement. Even my Mom will tell you that she’ll drive while I take pictures if we were able to chase storms, and Dad is trying to figure out how to make the motorcycle safe for chasing. It costs money for gas and food on the road to chase and I definitely don’t have an armored tank I drive right into the heart of the storm like Sean Casey or Reed Timmer or like the movie “Into the Storm.” I spot and chase locally and refer what I see back to the NWS and my neighbors, who constantly ask me how bad the storms are going to be. I always get a good laugh out of that… but I’m usually pretty close to accurate, except for this last time, which I’ll elaborate on in my next post. 

Just Call Me “Humpty Dumpty”

They say it started when I was two. (I’ve always wondered who the “they” they are referring to… but in this case, would be my parents). I was jumping on my parent’s bed, fell off, my bottom teeth went through my bottom lip and I had to get stitches, which I apparently chewed right out. That’s why my bottom lip is so fat.

            When I was three and we moved to Grand Marsh, I was playing tightrope walker on the bannister at the top of the stairs, fell, and tumbled down the stairs. According to Mom, I got up and did it again but laughed the second time I rolled down the stairs.

            I learned to play hockey the winter of 5^th grade, around 1993 or 1994 ish. Unbelievably, none of my incidents occurred on the ice. No wait, one or two occurred on the ice, but not while I was playing hockey or near the rink.

            The next major incident I remember is THIS one. I don’t remember if I was knocked out or not during that incident, but his knuckles are permanently dented into the left side of my head.

            Sept. 4^th, 2001 was the day I got my first ambulance ride, after the ladder I was standing on threw me off. I was working at a toy store in downtown Dells and attempting to rearrange some overpriced stuffed animals on a high shelf when the ladder decided it didn’t want to hold me up anymore and tossed me on the floor. I landed with my left arm out to catch myself, but my weight collapsed my arm and my head hit the floor. I must have passed out because I was told later that a customer came into the store and saw me and went to get someone else to help, and I do not recall seeing anyone in the store until the gal from the store next door came over. I do remember Sergeant Blood (yes, seriously that is his name) holding my legs down because they were shaking so badly while they were trying to load me onto the backboard. It was after that the migraines started and I went through a tirade of medication, MRI’s, specialists, neurologists, until about a year later my doctor told me the headaches might be something I might just have to learn to live and deal with.

            November of 2003 I tumbled down the hill while rollerblading and passed out in the grass. Some passerby found me and called for help. I was wearing my helmet and I remember them yelling at me to stop moving my head when they were asking me questions and worried about a head injury.

            Four days after I started college in August 2004, I was hit by a car while riding my bike in the crosswalk in Onalaska. A guy stopped to let me cross and he was rear-ended, pushing him into me. I landed on his hood on my back, and then flipped onto the highway on my stomach. I had just passed an officer on a traffic stop a few blocks away and he was down on the ground next to me in no time. I asked him to get a hold of my brother and I got into the ambulance to get checked out. As I was stepping out of the ambulance, my brother was running down the highway towards me. I asked him who contacted him, and he said nobody did, he was at the Kwik Trip across the street, saw my bike in the road and came running over. The responding officer told me that he better never see me riding my bike without a helmet ever again.

            A few months later, I was riding my bike home from the PD after talking with the Captain and that same officer about a project for school they were going to assist me with. A State Trooper lived down the road from us, and as I was riding past his house, my chain popped off my bike, I flipped over the handlebars and the bike lands on top of me. The Trooper was outside and saw the whole thing… and after coming out to check on me, pulling my bike off me and calling for assistance… he calls his son, who is inside, to come outside and watch the show. I was conscious and pissed. It wasn’t too much better when the officer who I had just spoke with at the PD responds, steps out of his squad and asks the Trooper if it was me, he says yes, the officer shakes his head and says “not again…” Then the First Responders arrive, know I have a history of head injuries, and ask “Holly, are you having a bad year?” Yeah, I guess I was. At least I was wearing my helmet then and as the officer took me and my bike home he told me he was glad I was wearing it.

            I think it was winter of 2004 when I tumbled down the path by the lake on the ice and knocked myself out. I remember having to be pulled out of there on a sled before going to the hospital via ambulance.

            Summer of 2005 I believe it was, I fell into a seizure while riding my bike home from work and didn’t come out of it until I was almost to the emergency room in the ambulance. I was wearing my helmet then and it was the only seizure I have ever had and told it was from a combination of heat, alcohol, and caffeine.

            Later that year my roommate and I were sledding in the park. I went down first and halfway down the hill I flipped forward and rolled, she came down behind me and crashed into me in my back, throwing me and knocking me out. She tried waking me up for a half hour before calling for help so I nearly had frostbite then also and was mad because they chopped off my Mighty Ducks long sleeve t-shirt… and because it was like my 8^th head injury in 10 years, I had to wear a chin collar brace for a week.

            So I go to church on Sunday morning, wearing the collar and one of the guys asked me what happened. I filled him in and he told me he had just opened his own chiropractic office in the city and would like to see me as soon as possible. Then I go to my hockey game that night, knowing I couldn’t play, and coach asked me what happened. He said I’m benched until after I see the doc. I replied of course, I figured that.

            I had never had chiropractic care before, but it was through the x-rays taken in his office that I discovered I have like nothing left between a couple of the vertebrae in my upper back. When I went back to see the doc that week, they sent me to a neurologist which only resulted in a cortisone shot every now and then. Useless waste of money, in my opinion. When I asked about playing hockey, doc said he couldn’t stop me but to play at my own risk. When I returned to the rink that following week, coach said “I’m not going to take that risk…” thus ending my hockey career. Doc also told me if I have one more major head injury, I could be paralyzed. It was the hardest thing in the world for me to sell my hockey sticks and skates last year.

            So I never do anything extreme anymore without wearing a helmet, and even once in a while you’ll see me running around with a Bumbo on my head. 

How to Get Bubble Gum Out of Cat Fur

I bet you’re wondering what the heck Squeex got into. Or what on Earth I did to my poor cat. Well, you can relax because I haven’t done anything. Squeex is fine and still as snow white as always.

I don’t chew gum often. I don’t really think I have since I’ve had Squeex. But the other night I bought a bunch in the hopes it would help me to quit smoking. Somewhat working. My stress level really needs to go to hell before I can quit smoking and I need a vacation away from here.

One evening recently, I’m chilling out in my recliner attempting to do my homework on the laptop and Squeex is in her usual spot; half on my lap, half on the laptop stretching across the keyboard and undoing things I keep trying to do… you know, the usual “this is my human, not yours, take that you stupid video box” kind of thing and stretching across my lap between my belly and the laptop.

I’m chewing a piece of gum so I can save some time and not go outside for a smoke and get my already-late homework done. I begin to wonder if I can blow bubbles with this little piece of not-bubble gum and attempt to try. I successfully make and pop a small bubble. Squeex moans at the sound and lifts her head to look at me. I smile and do it again. As the bubble gets bigger, Squeex’ eyes get as big as the bubble as it grows and then get smaller instantly upon the bubble popping. Amused, I blow another bubble and she does the same thing with her eyes, big as the bubble grows and small as soon as it pops. I did it a few more times until she lost interest.

Then I think… what if she tried to bite at or paw at the bubble? It reminded me of someone I knew when I was a kid who had a beagle that would chew gum and make bubbles when it barked. Then I thought back to when I was a child and how I would fall asleep with gum in my mouth and woke up with it in my hair and the nightmare it would be to get it out. How on earth would I get it off Squeex if she decided to stick her nose or paw in the bubble? I mean, this cat does NOT like to be held. Even brushing her is a battle. Usually I have to close her in the bathroom so she doesn’t find some abyss to hide in. Then she thinks she’s clever by hiding in the bathtub. That’s easily solved by turning on the water. Then she proceeds to sit in her litterbox and gives me the sad kitty cat eyes…“no, mama, I don’t wanna be brushed…” How in the world would I be able to get gum out of her fur?

So I took to my Facebook status and asked: “how do I remove bubble gum from cat fur?” Curiosity mostly, as to what replies I would get. Coconut oil. Mayonaisse. Shave it off. Freeze it. The gum, not the cat. Scissors. Get a new cat.

Ummmmm…. Yeah, no. None of the above. Not this cat. Ever try to give a cat a bath? I imagine any of the above suggestions would be almost as difficult (unless you have one of the 1% of cats that do like baths).

Sorry, Squeex. No bubble gum for you.

No wonder my homework never gets finished. All that because of a little piece of gum. A.D.D. sucks.

P.S. No animals were harmed during this crazy escapade of imagination. 

Ghosts of July 4th Past

I used to say that 4^th of July is my favorite holiday because we “get drunk and blow shit up!”

I’m 30 now. Not sure that could still apply.

Oxford has always been my favorite place to see the fireworks. Probably because it is an all weekend event with a carnival and softball tournaments and their fireworks show includes ground displays and music; it also lasts nearly a half an hour. Right at 10 p.m. they turn off the lights on the softball diamond, start playing the National Anthem, and when it gets to the line “and the rockets’ red glare” they shoot off red rockets, then a ground sign that says welcome. The red rockets scare me every time, even though I know they are coming. They also light up an American flag to the tune of “Born in the USA” then a sign that says good night prior to the finale. Of course, anyone will argue that their hometown or favorite fireworks show is the best, but I say Oxford is.

I always hated when the 4^th fell on a Sunday or the rain date for the fireworks ended up landing on a Sunday night because we would always race to get there after Sunday evening church service and me being the anxiety-laden child I was, always worried that we would miss them or be too late to obtain a good spot to see. But we always made it in plenty of time. I even remember being able to go to the Dells show with Michele and Beth one Sunday 4^th, and Bart and Alison and the kids to the Rapids one year. We were kind of spoiled because Oxford always has theirs on the Saturday closest to the 4^th, so many times it was possible to see more than one fireworks display; Oxford on Saturday and Dells or Rapids or wherever else on the actual 4^th.

I remember one year filming the Dells show with my gigantic, clunky VHS-C camcorder from the roof of my friend’s downtown apartment. I still have that honking thing.

The following year I went with some of my friends to Moon Rock to watch the fireworks. We had to walk around the park about six blocks and go at it from the other side because the Police Explorers guarding the park would not let us walk through the ball diamond where they were setting up the fireworks. Once we got to Moon Rock one of the guys found it funny to light bottle rockets and launch them at people in boats on the river below. That was during my rebel phase, but that night ended on a sad note when one of us received a phone call bearing bad news. R.I.P. Josh.

Later that night we all went back to a friend’s house because my friend wanted to “pay back” his neighbor. I mean those guys were real jerks, and that is putting it nicely. Almost immediately after lighting a few small fireworks of our own in the parking lot, this guy was over getting in everyone’s face, yelling that we woke him up when he was sitting outside just a few minutes prior, threatening to run us over with his car, etc. I “just happened to be” filming our backyard show and this entire scene… and the police confiscated my camcorder for evidence so they could watch the tape and decide who was going to be charged! I got it back like a week later, and the neighbor was cited for disorderly conduct.

We also got in trouble later that year, on my 20^th birthday. Two friends and I were down at Moon Rock lighting bottle rockets and firecrackers into the river and people freaked out thinking the booms were gunshots. That was kind of embarrassing because all the officers who arrived knew I was not old enough to drink… including one I went to high school with and all my friends had a crush on… ok I did too… they made us carry all our remaining beer back to the PD and had us dump it out in the gutter in front of the PD. That was the first and only time I ever received an underage drinking citation… along with one for trespassing and another for illegal fireworks…

Then I spent a few years in La Crosse and again had the luxury of enjoying two fireworks shows. Onalaska would hold their “Salute to the 4^th” celebration usually on the Sunday evening closest to the 4^th and everyone else had theirs on the 4^th. I remember seeing the Bangor show with my brother’s family after spending the day cooking out at a friend’s house nearby. But usually the place to be is Riverside Park in downtown La Crosse on the 4^th, where the fireworks are shot off over the Mississippi River from Pettibone Park across the water. That is more than a crowd and a half to deal with. Another year up there I had to work 2^nd shift on the 4^th so I barely got to see any fireworks, but my roommate and I made up for it by shooting off our own from the beach later that night.

It was after Onalaska’s Salute to the 4^th in 2009 that Zach and I started dating. The following year I was back home for the summer and had not heard from him in a while. I was on my way to Oxford fireworks with a co-worker when my phone rang. The caller ID showed a La Crosse number that I did not recognize. I was actually in the middle of telling my co-worker the story of how we met, when I answered the phone. It was Zach, calling me from a pay phone because his cell phone was broken!

In 2012 Zach and I went to our first Madison Mallards baseball game. We did not realize until we got there that Rhythm and Booms was also that night… in the same park! I remember always begging to go to that as a kid but we never got the chance to, and now we ended up there without even planning on it! So after the Mallards game we followed the crowd to the other side of the park and enjoyed a great show. We had Army paratroopers land on the ground directly in front of us, they shot live howitzers across the bay, the fireworks were pretty close set to music, and afterwards we jammed out with a small, but fun, crowd to a reggae band.

Last year on the 4^th we went to Aunt Rusty and Uncle Ed’s on Lake Kegonsa and I got to go tubing for the first time, which is now something I can cross off my bucket list. It was a little scary but a heck of a blast. Then we lit pooping dog snake fireworks on the deck.

This year Zach and I enjoyed our local fireworks in Baraboo on Friday the 4^th, then Saturday we went to Costa Ricky’s for a few before heading to Oxford. We did that last year also… that may become our new tradition. Although I did promise Zach that one of these years we would go check out Castle Rock fireworks, but those are almost always the same night as Oxford’s. However, if we could spend the day on a boat and see them from the river, then maybe I would not be as opposed.  

The Wussification of America Amidst a Declining Society

I’ve spent the last several posts discussing and reminiscing of easier times in the prior couple decades. Well, easier times depending on how you think based upon when you entered this world. When did things start getting this bad?

What do I speak of by “wussification of America”?

I speak of this generation of kids raising kids as spineless, babied cowards.

I speak of the fact that too many people are looking for a handout or not willing to work for their earnings; of those who expect the handouts to get bigger each time and throw a fit when they do not.

I speak of those who have lost their jobs as CEO’s or corporate bigwigs in the declining economy and have exhausted their unemployment benefits because they refuse to accept a job with an income no less than that of a millionaire.

            I speak of neighbors running to the phone to dial 911 instead of being friendly and communicating with others in their neighborhood when there is a problem.

            I speak of the increasing divorce rate and lack of communication among families. The secrets and cheating and just tossing their partner aside over small things instead of working through their issues.

            I speak of the diminishing respect and values displayed by the future adults of society.

            Kids having kids is an issue all in itself. I saw a slideshow online recently of America’s youngest parents. Some of these kids were only 13-15 years old! But yes, kids are raising theirs as spineless babied cowards because they have not grown up themselves prior to considering reproducing. They are not mature enough to handle the responsibility so they baby their children because the parents are babies themselves, which brings me right into the next fact.

            I think one of the reasons society has gone to hell is due to the influx of those who expect the government or others to support them. Those who reproduce just so they can get BadgerCare and food stamps and child support because they do not care that they have six kids under 8 with five different daddies; they just expect not to have to work because they know how to swindle the system. And they cannot tell me that they are unable to find a job. I assisted a single mother of 4 the other day with job hunting and within 3 hours of being out there (not including drive time) she had two interviews scheduled and one job offer, and a handful of applications to fill out. There are consequences to actions and if those choices resulted in new life entering this deranged society, you had better be prepared.

            When I saw that beginning July 1^st this year, three counties in southeast WI are requiring those receiving FoodShare to either work at least 20 hours per week or be enrolled in a job search program, I could not have been happier. It will become mandatory state-wide as of Jan. 1^st, 2015. When did this STOP being a requirement? I was homeless in Jan. 2004 and staying at a homeless shelter. One of the first things we had to do was go apply for FoodShare because that automatically enrolled us in the job search program through the Job Center. They required a minimum of 10 job contacts per week (applications turned in or interviews/follow-ups) and related classes until at least 20 hours of work a week was obtained. It was a requirement then… what’s changed in the last 10 years?

            What has turned us into such a lazy society? Are the government handouts that good that nobody wants to work anymore? Yes, I understand that you need transportation to get to work to get money to obtain that transportation. I got to work AND school for two years via foot, bicycle, and bus. 7 miles one way. Once my transportation failed and I could no longer get to work, I relocated to a place where I could utilize public transportation. So nobody can tell me it cannot be done. Laziness is the only reason (excuse) it could not be done.

            Same was the case when the economy crashed and corporations were shut down. Those employees were able to receive unemployment benefits… until they ran out. Even after a couple of government-funded extensions, many of those people were still not working. Why? Because they refused to find ANY job to make ends meet or to attempt to get there; they wanted a job of equal or more pay.

            When I was on unemployment for the necessary times I needed to be, if I or an employer reported that I refused a job offer, there was an entire blown out investigation and it would be two or three weeks before I received a check again. I swore my whole life that I would never work in fast food but I ended up working at a Dairy Queen part-time for three months and continued seeking employment until I found a better job. Apparently these bigwigs thought they had it so good and would not settle for anything less. That’s pathetic. Do you really need that $400/month car payment and the $250/month cell phones and the mansion in a gated community to survive? No. Oh, maybe that’s why nobody is neighborly anymore.

            Scanner pages have been popping up on facebook recently. These are pages or groups where someone posts the calls that come across the police scanner and leave open for social media discussion. Some of the calls are pretty ridiculous. But what happened to the days where if you had an issue with a neighbor, it was resolved with a simple knock on their door or a phone call? The days where everyone knew who was who, and we could leave our doors unlocked, and neighbors looked out for each other?

            I see it frequently on the scanner pages: one person calls the police on their neighbor over something that could probably simply be solved with a quick visit instead of police intervention. But no, this is where the spineless, babied cowardice comes into play. Are you afraid your neighbor will answer the door with a rifle in your face? Unlikely. Communication is key. If my neighbors have their music blasted and are keeping me awake at 2 a.m., I am going to go knock on their door and nicely ask them to keep it down. The police are not needed unless I am aware of illegal activity occurring. If they punch me point blank, well then I will have a black eye and they will go to jail.

            But these days a person would rather grab the phone from the night stand and make a quick, anonymous phone call without even getting out of bed. Laziness. Why don’t people care to be friendly and neighborly anymore? Hating your neighbors just makes for unnecessary stress in what is supposed to be one’s safe haven. 

            And again, communication within the home (or more lack of it) is what keeps the divorce rate so high. Why do couples feel the need to cheat and keep it a secret? What happened to “for better or for worse, til death do us part?” Are those words no longer sacred? Some of the questions that come into The Dear Mike Page on facebook I just cannot believe. Dear Mike is a community advice column that can get pretty interesting in the questions and responses from the followers. I just cannot believe the amount of questions posted regarding relationships that can all be solved with some communication among the couples. Many are adult-oriented so I will not sum them up here, but come on now. It seems the norm these days is keeping one until the other does something they do not like, then toss them aside and move on to the next. I guess I just do not understand this mentality, since I am one of the few people I know whose parents are still married… yes, to each other.

            All this has also diminished the respect and values of our “children raising children” society. The young adults who are raising these overprotected, bratty, respectless, gimme, gimme, gimme children are not making the future of America any better. It does not help that parents are too afraid to discipline their children out of fear of being charged with child abuse. Without discipline, there is no respect. I was scared of my mama without her ever putting her hands on me, so one cannot tell me that discipline only comes in the form of beating your children. And you know what? I have respect for her and my elders.

            I have witnessed this recently, and close also. I have been out with family members who have children. In the first instance, the 4 year old told her mother what she was going to do prior to doing what her mother told her to. Oh, hell no… I put that kid right on her sitter and made her sit and think about it, while lecturing her about respect and her attitude. In the other instance, I had a 2 almost 3 year old climbing on the table and I told her to get down and sit on the other side of the table. The child told me “no” but she was in MY house. And you bet I put that child right in her place. I picked her up off the table and set her in the chair where I told her to sit and let her scream. I did not hurt the children in any way either time, and had permission from the parents in both instances, but this is what I mean. Or parents tell their children to do something once, twice, three, four times and the kid ignores them and eventually the parent gives up and ends up doing it themselves. How does a child learn? I will tell you how they learn… they learn how to get away with disrespecting their parents and this is exactly where the lack of respect begins. I saw a Dear Mike question posted a couple of days ago from what appeared to be a parent about how she cannot control her 14 year old son and she was wondering what amount of allowance to give him for doing simple tasks such as taking a shower. THIS is the future of America… the people who will be taking care of us when we grow old. Although with this kind of outlook, I am betting our kids will not want to care for us when we are old. They will just want whatever they can get and take it and run… because that is all they know, right?

            This is what I mean by the wussification of America. Why are we all living in such a paranoid society? Is the media to blame for glorifying violence in their news broadcasts? Is the economy to blame because so many have lost their jobs and willing to sink to any level to obtain necessities to survive instead of getting off their lazy butts and finding a job, even if it is less than they were making prior? Is it because this “bullying” thing has been blown way out of proportion? Everyone I know, including me, was bullied as a kid and it taught us all how to stand up and defend ourselves, 

not run home cryin’ to our mamas and consider suicide. Babies raising babies. As mentioned above.

            Maybe this is the reason I like being “old school”. Because I respect others and refuse to live so paranoid and uptight that I miss out on enjoying and living my own life. I believe in working for what you want and earning it, not taking it by force or criminally or expecting it to be handed to me. And if the day ever arrives that I do decide to bring a new life into this corrupt world, I will ensure they have the respect and work ethic that this generation is severely lacking. 

Feeling Nostalgic Day 10: Before Everything Became Now, Now, Now

"Automatic" by Miranda Lambert

I do not want to repeat the lyrics but it is 100% truth.

            Why does everyone seem to have the “now, now, now, give it to me now” mentality? Or they want everything done for them and handed to them on a silver platter on the red carpet instead of making the time to do so, as I eluded to in a prior post in this series. It’s as if our brains have gotten so used to a piece of machinery doing things for us or a technological object giving us the answer that we are incapable of using our brains anymore or doing anything for ourselves, then complain when it is necessary. Again, as mentioned earlier… I’m old school.

            I remember the first time I used an automatic toilet. I was young; maybe 7 or 8, and it was at the McDonald’s in Wisconsin Rapids. It scared the heck out of me and I ran out of that bathroom so fast…

            Who invented these things? Were there really that many people in the world in such a rush that they could not take two seconds to turn around and push down a handle?

            I think the automatic toilets are what made me terrified of public restrooms as a child. Or the fact that I believed I would get sucked down the drain with the toilet contents.

            I was 15 when we got our first microwave. This thing was enormous and took up ¾ of our counter space and only had a turn dial for time. One mode. The first time I used it I was babysitting a 7 and 3 year old for the summer and making leftover chicken for lunch. I took the foil wrapped chicken out of the fridge and tossed it in the microwave, turned the dial, and went to prepare the rest of lunch. About 5 seconds later the 7 year old asked me why there were sparks flying around in the microwave… yeah, I kind of forgot when Mom and Dad told me the night before not to put anything metal in there. I never did that again. By the way… food cooked in the microwave tastes disgusting. The microwave is for re-heating food to make it hot, not to cook a meal in.

            Remember the excitement of getting a card or hand-drafted letter in the mail from one of your friends or relatives? When was the last time you brightened someone’s day by sending a hand-written letter or homemade card? These days everyone communicates via e-mail, text messaging, facebook, instant messenger, snapchat, twitter, etc.

Whatever did we do in days prior to the Internet? We visited people in person instead of virtually. We wrote letters and sent them with stamps via the U.S. Postal Service, and yes, it would arrive three (or more) days later.

Everyone had a map or atlas in their vehicle and knew how to read it instead of a voice on the dashboard telling you where to go.

We would spend hours in a giant room full of books (known as a library) to research information alphabetically in an encyclopedia in order to perfect our research papers. Other books related to the subject were searched for using index cards in drawers, known as something called a card catalog. We couldn’t just google the information on our phones anywhere we were. I remember it being the coolest new thing when the library received a computerized card catalog, because then you could even borrow items from other libraries without driving 40 miles! And yes, even those would arrive three (or 103) days later, depending on how many copies vs. how many people were in line ahead of you for that item.

Books were paperback or hardcover or on a cassette tape… we could not read a book by staring at a flat screen that fit into our purse. We actually had to carry the physical book around.

If we were out and about and needed to make a phone call, we had to ask to use the phone wherever we were (if they would let you) or hope you could find a quarter in your pocket and a pay phone. The last time I remember using a pay phone was over ten years ago… at the Sand Lake Road Kwik Trip in Onalaska in 2003.

When a new movie came out on VHS… yes, I said VHS… we did not get to see it streaming on Hulu or Netflix… and pay-per-view did not exist unless you were a millionaire that owned land to place the spaceship-sized satellite dish in the backyard. We actually had to travel to the video store or somewhere that rented movies and pay to borrow it for the night, then ensure it was returned by 5:30 or 6 p.m. the following evening or they would charge you for another day’s rental fee. If you were lucky, you were able to keep it for two nights.

None of these fancy little debit cards existed… you were stuck waiting in the grocery store line while everyone in front of you wrote out a paper check. And you actually had to keep track of your expenses in your checkbook because the money was not removed immediately and if you were caught writing bad checks...ooh whee... you had better get to the bank during business hours to take out that cash because a 24 hour ATM had not been invented yet.

What has attributed to this society of impatience? In my blunt old school mindset, the rise in technology has turned society lazy and stupid. Stupid as in brainless.

Lazy in the sense that we do not even have to flush our own toilets because they’re automatic.

Lazy in the thought of not needing to write a letter or send out invitations because it can be done via a facebook invite or “poke”.

Lazy in the sense that we cannot do simple math in our heads because “there’s an app for that”.

Stupid in the sense that a ten year old cannot read a map because it is now a talking box on the dash.

Stupid in the idea that phonics is not taught in our public schools and kids are learning that txt tlk and “luv ya” is proper spelling and okay.

Stupid in the thought that one cannot memorize a phone number because it’s in their cell phone contacts and hopefully one never drops their lifeline of a call phone into a toilet, because those automatic things will flush right on your tush and you would not have any numbers memorized to call someone and you’ll probably be late for that meeting now because you cannot remember when and where it was without your lifeline of a Palm Pilot directing your every move… 

Feeling Nostalgic Day 9: What IS This Thing?

                As I mentioned in the introduction of what inspired this series, there is one list in particular that stands out. At the beginning of every school year, some expert or historian comes out with a list of things that this year’s incoming college freshmen never had the joy of using or experiencing. A couple things I have seen on this list are 8-tracks, record players, and corded telephones.

                My parents had an 8-track player. I don’t think we played with it more than once or twice.

                I had a record player until my brother decided to take it apart for some odd reason. I believe the needle disappeared after that. I used to record 70’s music from my Mom’s 45s onto cassette tapes. A few weeks ago at work I was singing along to the song “Henry the VIII” and a co-worker was surprised I knew the song. I replied that it was a song on my Funny Bone record, then she asked if I was old enough to have records. I laughed. I think the funnier thing is that I still have most (if not all) of those cassette tapes!

                There was one night at church our Pastor’s son found a record in the children’s room and asked my brother what it was and if it would play in a CD player! He had no idea what a record or record player was and this was about…. 15 years ago…

                So as far as the music industry goes, we’ve gone from 8-tracks and records to cassette tapes to CDs, and now satellite radio and zillions of songs on can fit onto a device the size of a AA battery in the form of MP3s. Children today will never know the struggle of trying to get a Discman to fit into your pocket while walking or riding your bike and figuring out how not to make it skip with every other step or turn of the pedals.

               

                What about videos? I’m not sure if anything besides reel-to-reel filmstrip was used back in the day… remember watching a “filmstrip” in grade school with the projectors? I do not really remember much about a beta player, except seeing the tape and machine once when my brother attempted to fix one.

                Then came those honkingly large VHS tapes in the gigantic plastic cases. Or setting your blank tapes to record 6 hours and hoping you set up the timer record properly to record your shows that were on while you weren’t home, and praying the weather was nice so it didn’t come out fuzzy and that the antenna was pointed in the right position for that channel to come in and that the VCR wouldn’t “eat” your tape while recording.

                Well, now VHS tapes are becoming obsolete and along came DVDs in cases half the size. It’s a never-ending project; trying to upgrade all my VHS movies to DVD, when I can’t even complete that project and then they come out with bluray! And the DVR, where you can pause and rewind live tv and record more than one show at a time on two different channels without the worry of a hungry VCR munching on your tape!

                As with the amount of music one can fit on a slim device and the large VHS tapes slimmed down to thin discs, televisions have also diminished in size. Just 20 years ago, a television in someone’s living room was the size of an arm chair. Then they needed to sit on their own piece of furniture because they were no longer a console but still large and bulky. Nowadays, a television is so thin it can be mounted right to your wall! And they are also “smart TV’s” that hook up to the Internet and stream videos and can basically do everything a computer can do. Who would have imagined a gigantic console TV could ever transform into a slender computer? It seems that everything is a computer these days: A television, a computer, a tablet, a cell phone, an iPod… and too many are glued to their devices 24/7. I got rid of my smartphone after 3 days… I pay for Internet at home, I don’t need it on the go also. More about that in a future post.

                I will never forget the story I read earlier this year. A young man on a crowded train in San Francisco had brandished a handgun several times during his ride, but everyone was so glued to their smartphones or iPods or Kindles that nobody even realized the man sitting next to them on the train was showing off a firearm. Until he shot and killed a young male who was exiting the train.

                Think about that. The night I read that story, I entered the break room at work and noticed the same thing. 10 people in there, and it was silent. Everyone was staring down at their smartphones or e-readers. For a split second I pictured someone entering the room and turning it into a crime scene without anyone noticing until it was too late. The only verbiage I heard was one asking another to send them a life in Candy Crush.

                A real life is what they need, not a virtual one.