Nov 15, 2006
Wash Day
The first thing Ella did every morning the past week was put her Cinderella dress on over her jammies. When things don’t quite go her way she performs a very stern “Bibbidy Bobbidy Bo!” on them to see if the situation changes and apparently it does scare monsters out of her bedroom and occasionally it makes the dog move. I will attempt to put Ella in tights and a dress today in an effort to thwart her constant requests to help her with her "pretty dress". Perhaps she will find her own dress worthy enough and forget about the silver sparkly frock with strawberry juice and kid grease on the front long enough for me to wash it today.
Nov 14, 2006
Crafty Tough Girl
I’ve been running my own little derby sweat shop from the house for the last three days. We decided as a team to get together and sew up our own skirts and then we picked this skirt: 
It’s not the hardest thing to sew, but we are making eighteen of them. Folks are coming again today to hopefully finish up the first part and then we’ll do final fittings tonight at practice before we finish all the hems and zippers. Instead of costing $39.95 it’s going to run each girl about $15.00 for material.
It’s not the hardest thing to sew, but we are making eighteen of them. Folks are coming again today to hopefully finish up the first part and then we’ll do final fittings tonight at practice before we finish all the hems and zippers. Instead of costing $39.95 it’s going to run each girl about $15.00 for material.
Nov 13, 2006
Dream Job
Big changes around here! Well really only one big change, starting on Wednesday Dan will be working from home. He took a great new job doing the same thing he does now plus and he get’s to have a home office. I am thrilled to see more Dan around here. Between skating and meetings and practice and fund raisers I was missing him.
This all started back when we took the trip in September. Dan passed up a wonderful job offer in Las Vegas. When I say wonderful I mean REALLY WONDERFUL! We made a list of pros and cons and still couldn’t agree on a plan of action. Then Dan made a list of qualities his dream job would offer and it turns out the Las Vegas job met a lot of those qualities but left out some very important pieces. So, we decided that money isn’t everything and family and friends and small town living was a priority for us. Then one day, not long after, the “dream job” called the house asking for Dan. He’s in Peoria today and tomorrow meeting his coworkers. He’ll be home on Wednesday to work.
We are so very proud of him. He is our hero.
The Tater Tots have a man at their house with a new job today too. Good Luck Mr. Tot!
This all started back when we took the trip in September. Dan passed up a wonderful job offer in Las Vegas. When I say wonderful I mean REALLY WONDERFUL! We made a list of pros and cons and still couldn’t agree on a plan of action. Then Dan made a list of qualities his dream job would offer and it turns out the Las Vegas job met a lot of those qualities but left out some very important pieces. So, we decided that money isn’t everything and family and friends and small town living was a priority for us. Then one day, not long after, the “dream job” called the house asking for Dan. He’s in Peoria today and tomorrow meeting his coworkers. He’ll be home on Wednesday to work.
We are so very proud of him. He is our hero.
The Tater Tots have a man at their house with a new job today too. Good Luck Mr. Tot!
Nov 11, 2006
Big Hair and Leg Warmers
The Rage did a fund raiser last night at a local pub. They threw an 80s party and I spent the first half of the evening laughing about the songs they played and finding out exactly what my younger teammates thought eighties garb looked like and I spent the second half of my night (after a few beers) Rockin’ the Casbah. This morning I feel like I smoked a pack of cigarettes and my feet hurt.
Nov 10, 2006
The Family Toboggan
When I was a kid we lived up the street from the greatest sled hill for two miles around. I say two miles because just two miles away was “Twin Sisters” sound scary? - It was, but I digress. We lived just two blocks from the greatest sled hill around it had a 45 degree angle for a good 8 second sled ride and ended on a baseball field so you were never in danger of smacking into the fence or trying to stop before you get to the slushy creek. My parents were serious about their down hills sports. As long as I can remember the family owner a toboggan and every November when the wind got cold and the air dry Dad would lay the toboggan out on the coffee table or the dining room table and get the bees wax ready. Our little hands would take the great hunks of buttery yellow wax bricks to the bottom of the toboggan until every dowel-hole, every miniscule crack and every crevice filled with wax smooth and shiny. It was like the Midwest version of a surfboard. Then we’d wait the long wait for snow.
When the snow finally came we’d pull on layers of winter clothes. First long underwear, then turtle neck, then knee socks with the long underwear tucked into them, then a sweater, and jeans and over those jeans another pair of jeans or sweat pants, a second pair of socks the outer ones wool, socks on your hands, winder coats, hats, mittens over the socks on your hands, and then mom would wind a great scarf over your face and you’d better be on your way out already or you’d be sweating. We’d drag the toboggan up the street through people s’ yards careful to pick it up were people had shoveled the snow so it wouldn’t drag on the sidewalk.
Upon arrival the hill was always a hodge-podge of downhill equipment. There would be a few good old fashioned sleds with runners; and you have to watch out for those I once heard about a kid who got his ear sliced off by getting himself run over by one, so we’d identify those right away and vow to stay far away from the front of them. There would be the kids who didn’t have anything but a piece of cardboard or a garbage bag they found, but those kids sometimes went the fastest. There would be the kids with the coveted red plastic saucers, we wanted saucers so bad. They were so sleek and plastic and shiny and red and didn’t require any prep and you could spin around on the way down on them. There would be a few plastic sleds with breaks on either side and there would be us and our Family Toboggan.
The hill would be great; we’d sled for an hour or so until you couldn’t feel your chin and your thighs would be getting wet from the snow finally melting through all your layers. The nice part about a toboggan is it was always your turn, it was always everyone’s turn and sometimes you could even fit on some of the kids who couldn’t get their garbage bag going, on the back with everyone else. I think you could fit about eight kids on ours. You just had to make sure you weren’t in between the legs of someone who might pee on you. You gotta put the pee-kid in front.
Finally with snot and sweat dripping down your face we’d argue with Dad about taking our hats off and then it’s be time to go, but not before the piece de resistance, Dad would surf down the hill standing on the toboggan. We’d gather up as he’d scope out where the cleanest snow was far away from the jumps and ice runs us kids adored. He’d put the toboggan reigns in his hands and stand sideways and we’d “Oooh” and “Ahhh” as he’d artfully surf his way down. Then we’d all clap and hoot and holler and start the slog home while rehashing every run, deciding wich was the best. At home we’d peel all the wet clothes off and sit in front of the wood burner in our long underwear sipping the hot chocolate Mom made. I don’t think I’ve had a hot chocolate like that since, but I’m going to give it a try this year. We have a great sledding hill just four blocks away.
When the snow finally came we’d pull on layers of winter clothes. First long underwear, then turtle neck, then knee socks with the long underwear tucked into them, then a sweater, and jeans and over those jeans another pair of jeans or sweat pants, a second pair of socks the outer ones wool, socks on your hands, winder coats, hats, mittens over the socks on your hands, and then mom would wind a great scarf over your face and you’d better be on your way out already or you’d be sweating. We’d drag the toboggan up the street through people s’ yards careful to pick it up were people had shoveled the snow so it wouldn’t drag on the sidewalk.
Upon arrival the hill was always a hodge-podge of downhill equipment. There would be a few good old fashioned sleds with runners; and you have to watch out for those I once heard about a kid who got his ear sliced off by getting himself run over by one, so we’d identify those right away and vow to stay far away from the front of them. There would be the kids who didn’t have anything but a piece of cardboard or a garbage bag they found, but those kids sometimes went the fastest. There would be the kids with the coveted red plastic saucers, we wanted saucers so bad. They were so sleek and plastic and shiny and red and didn’t require any prep and you could spin around on the way down on them. There would be a few plastic sleds with breaks on either side and there would be us and our Family Toboggan.
The hill would be great; we’d sled for an hour or so until you couldn’t feel your chin and your thighs would be getting wet from the snow finally melting through all your layers. The nice part about a toboggan is it was always your turn, it was always everyone’s turn and sometimes you could even fit on some of the kids who couldn’t get their garbage bag going, on the back with everyone else. I think you could fit about eight kids on ours. You just had to make sure you weren’t in between the legs of someone who might pee on you. You gotta put the pee-kid in front.
Finally with snot and sweat dripping down your face we’d argue with Dad about taking our hats off and then it’s be time to go, but not before the piece de resistance, Dad would surf down the hill standing on the toboggan. We’d gather up as he’d scope out where the cleanest snow was far away from the jumps and ice runs us kids adored. He’d put the toboggan reigns in his hands and stand sideways and we’d “Oooh” and “Ahhh” as he’d artfully surf his way down. Then we’d all clap and hoot and holler and start the slog home while rehashing every run, deciding wich was the best. At home we’d peel all the wet clothes off and sit in front of the wood burner in our long underwear sipping the hot chocolate Mom made. I don’t think I’ve had a hot chocolate like that since, but I’m going to give it a try this year. We have a great sledding hill just four blocks away.
Nov 9, 2006
Maybe We Should've Named Her Smart Alec
Conversation at the ice cream station yesterday
Codger: Is your name Billy? Hi Billy.
Ella: No my name is Ella!
Codger: Oh! I thought you were Billy.
Ella: No I’m just Ella…. Mom?
Me: You can tell him to stop teasing you.
Ella: Stop teasing me.
Duffer: Well, I thought you were Billy too; you say it’s Ella huh?
Ella: YES! I’m a little girl of Ella and my names is Ella.
Duffer: Well, how is that spelled, maybe if you spell it for me I could remember it
Codger: Yeah, how DO you spell “Ella”?
Ella: With letters!
Codger: Is your name Billy? Hi Billy.
Ella: No my name is Ella!
Codger: Oh! I thought you were Billy.
Ella: No I’m just Ella…. Mom?
Me: You can tell him to stop teasing you.
Ella: Stop teasing me.
Duffer: Well, I thought you were Billy too; you say it’s Ella huh?
Ella: YES! I’m a little girl of Ella and my names is Ella.
Duffer: Well, how is that spelled, maybe if you spell it for me I could remember it
Codger: Yeah, how DO you spell “Ella”?
Ella: With letters!
Nov 8, 2006
Illinois (D)
It’s a good day to be a Democrat in IL.
We kept the Governor’s Mansion, the Attorney General’s office, Secretary of State’s office and Comptroller’s office and took the Treasurer’s office. Our own county picked up at least one board seat and retained our Sheriff with 67%. We have two great Senators here, you may have heard of them – Barack Obama and Dick Durbin. Oh, did I mention the sun is shining today and it’s going to be 70°.
We kept the Governor’s Mansion, the Attorney General’s office, Secretary of State’s office and Comptroller’s office and took the Treasurer’s office. Our own county picked up at least one board seat and retained our Sheriff with 67%. We have two great Senators here, you may have heard of them – Barack Obama and Dick Durbin. Oh, did I mention the sun is shining today and it’s going to be 70°.
Nov 7, 2006
jokester won’t be expelled
Here's the follow up article to the story I worote about on Saturday. It looks like the school has calmed down but the Winnebago County state’s attorney’s office is still deciding what to do if anything. Go ahead drop Paul Logli a line statesattorney@co.winnebago.il.us
Local News: SchoolsBomb jokester won’t be expelled
By Sadie Gurman
ROCKFORD REGISTER STAR
"ROCKTON — A Hononegah High School junior who joked in an online conversation that another student looked “weird enough to bring a bomb the school” no longer faces expulsion, the student’s grandfather, Jim Boyer, said Monday.Noah Boyer, 16, was arrested for disorderly conduct for the Oct. 24 conversation with a friend, which took place over AOL Instant Messenger. An expulsion hearing was slated for 1 p.m. Monday but was canceled Monday morning when a group of school administrators, teachers and staff decided it should not be held, Jim Boyer said.Noah Boyer, who declined to comment, will return to school today after nine days of suspension, Jim Boyer said.
...School officials decided not to expel Noah after his teachers rallied around him, he said.“The teachers really went to bat for him,” Jim Boyer said. “They were all in support of him and his work this year. I think that helped.”
...Rockton police learned of the Internet chat as it was unfolding, and arrested Noah Boyer for disorderly conduct. He still faces a criminal charge, as the Winnebago County state’s attorney’s office decides whether Boyer’s case deserves a formal court trial, assistant state’s attorney Pamela Wells said. Alternatives to a formal trial could include public service, probation, counseling or a number of other services, Wells said. "
Local News: SchoolsBomb jokester won’t be expelled
By Sadie Gurman
ROCKFORD REGISTER STAR
"ROCKTON — A Hononegah High School junior who joked in an online conversation that another student looked “weird enough to bring a bomb the school” no longer faces expulsion, the student’s grandfather, Jim Boyer, said Monday.Noah Boyer, 16, was arrested for disorderly conduct for the Oct. 24 conversation with a friend, which took place over AOL Instant Messenger. An expulsion hearing was slated for 1 p.m. Monday but was canceled Monday morning when a group of school administrators, teachers and staff decided it should not be held, Jim Boyer said.Noah Boyer, who declined to comment, will return to school today after nine days of suspension, Jim Boyer said.
...School officials decided not to expel Noah after his teachers rallied around him, he said.“The teachers really went to bat for him,” Jim Boyer said. “They were all in support of him and his work this year. I think that helped.”
...Rockton police learned of the Internet chat as it was unfolding, and arrested Noah Boyer for disorderly conduct. He still faces a criminal charge, as the Winnebago County state’s attorney’s office decides whether Boyer’s case deserves a formal court trial, assistant state’s attorney Pamela Wells said. Alternatives to a formal trial could include public service, probation, counseling or a number of other services, Wells said. "
Nov 6, 2006
Quick Monday
Hello bloggies, I've got to be quick this morning, so much to do this week and today is full.
Practice was wonderful last night though I'm a little stiff in the lower back this morning. Two women went down pretty hard during jams, I think they'll be ok but ice was needed. Though we are thankful for a practice place it kinda stinks that it's cement. It's extra slidey and so you have to temper your speed while fending off hips and shoulders from all directions. I haven't taken a good hard fall yet but I have been swung into the bingo tables that line the room. Not quite as bad as Bubbles the Brawler slidding into the bingo machine sending balls flying accross the floor but equally scary.
Practice was wonderful last night though I'm a little stiff in the lower back this morning. Two women went down pretty hard during jams, I think they'll be ok but ice was needed. Though we are thankful for a practice place it kinda stinks that it's cement. It's extra slidey and so you have to temper your speed while fending off hips and shoulders from all directions. I haven't taken a good hard fall yet but I have been swung into the bingo tables that line the room. Not quite as bad as Bubbles the Brawler slidding into the bingo machine sending balls flying accross the floor but equally scary.
Nov 4, 2006
Thought Police in Illinois
Imagine you are sitting in class and you lean over to your friend and say “Wow, that guy looks weird... Weird enough to bomb the school.” And your friend says “You should tell someone about that guy?” and you reply “It’s a joke dude, he just looked weird”. Perhaps a teacher overhears part of the conversation, takes it seriously enough to call the police and make a big deal. Should you be suspended from school? Should you be arrested for initiating of a false bomb threat? Who is at fault? Does blame need to actually be placed?
Now imagine the conversation takes place via IM from your own home while playing Halo with your pal and your pal mentions it to her mom who freaks out and calls the police. The police come to your home, seize your computer, the school is called, and a big deal made. Should you be suspended from school? How about expelled? Or arrested for initiating of a false bomb threat, disorderly conduct? Who is at fault? Is there any blame or is it just a simple misunderstanding?
***
Published: November 3, 2006
Bomb joke may bring expulsion
A Hononegah junior also faces a criminal charge in the incident.
By Sadie Gurman
ROCKFORD REGISTER STAR
"During an Oct. 24 online conversation, Boyer, a junior at Hononegah High School, joked to a friend that another student looked “weird enough to bomb the school.”...
...The transcript of one conversation, provided to the Register Star by Boyer, reads “there is no bomb.” The chat took place over the networking program AOL Instant Messenger. “i was messing around.”...
Friend: anywho, did you tell someone about that guy?
Boyer: lol no
Friend: ... do it
Friend: whats his name?
Friend: Noah
Friend: whats his name?
Boyer: nvm it a joke dude he looked weird
…“I didn’t really do anything,” Boyer, 16, said. “I didn’t threaten the school. I didn’t purposefully try to scare anyone.”
The incident marks a new frontier in school safety, one in which school officials take any suspicious comment — even a joke made over the Internet — seriously, Rockton Police Chief Stephen Dickson said.
Boyer said his expulsion hearing is scheduled for 1 p.m. Monday. Hononegah administrators said they could not confirm the hearing and declined to comment on the incident. “It’s a student matter, and we cannot discuss it in public at all,” Associate Principal Ehren Jarrett said Thursday. “It’s a student privacy issue.”
Boyer was arrested for disorderly conduct, which happens whenever “a person does any act in such an unreasonable manner that they alarm or disturb another and provoke a breach of the peace,” said Pamela Wells, assistant state’s attorney for Winnebago County..."
***
What is happening here? Am I the only one who thinks the person that made the call to the police is at fault? If I say “Johnny Depp is good enough to eat” and you call the police and say I play to murder him then you are the dangerous idiot not me. While I believe any and all threats made at school should be taken seriously, the kid didn’t shout “He’s got a bomb!” in the middle of an assembly; he cracked a smart ass joke on the internet followed by “Dude I was just kidding.” It’s an outrage that the kid faces a conviction and possible expulsion, an absolute outrage. I find the measures taken by the authorities to be a gross overreaction and I feel it directly encroaches on all our civil rights.
Hononegah School Board:
David Kurlinkus (President) (Term expires 2007) - DKurlinkus@aol.com
Kerwood Watts (Vice-President) (Term expires 2007) - watts@firstrockford.com
Tana Vettore (Secretary) (term expires 2009) - napactr@charter.net
Sandy Fordell (term expires 2009) - fordrock5@charter.net
Diane LaForge (term expires 2009) - d2jj@hotmail.com
Scott Moyer (term expires 2009) - scott.moyer@hs.utc.com
Bob Zoeller (Term expires 2007) bob.zoeller@charter.net
Now imagine the conversation takes place via IM from your own home while playing Halo with your pal and your pal mentions it to her mom who freaks out and calls the police. The police come to your home, seize your computer, the school is called, and a big deal made. Should you be suspended from school? How about expelled? Or arrested for initiating of a false bomb threat, disorderly conduct? Who is at fault? Is there any blame or is it just a simple misunderstanding?
***
Published: November 3, 2006
Bomb joke may bring expulsion
A Hononegah junior also faces a criminal charge in the incident.
By Sadie Gurman
ROCKFORD REGISTER STAR
"During an Oct. 24 online conversation, Boyer, a junior at Hononegah High School, joked to a friend that another student looked “weird enough to bomb the school.”...
...The transcript of one conversation, provided to the Register Star by Boyer, reads “there is no bomb.” The chat took place over the networking program AOL Instant Messenger. “i was messing around.”...
Friend: anywho, did you tell someone about that guy?
Boyer: lol no
Friend: ... do it
Friend: whats his name?
Friend: Noah
Friend: whats his name?
Boyer: nvm it a joke dude he looked weird
…“I didn’t really do anything,” Boyer, 16, said. “I didn’t threaten the school. I didn’t purposefully try to scare anyone.”
The incident marks a new frontier in school safety, one in which school officials take any suspicious comment — even a joke made over the Internet — seriously, Rockton Police Chief Stephen Dickson said.
Boyer said his expulsion hearing is scheduled for 1 p.m. Monday. Hononegah administrators said they could not confirm the hearing and declined to comment on the incident. “It’s a student matter, and we cannot discuss it in public at all,” Associate Principal Ehren Jarrett said Thursday. “It’s a student privacy issue.”
Boyer was arrested for disorderly conduct, which happens whenever “a person does any act in such an unreasonable manner that they alarm or disturb another and provoke a breach of the peace,” said Pamela Wells, assistant state’s attorney for Winnebago County..."
***
What is happening here? Am I the only one who thinks the person that made the call to the police is at fault? If I say “Johnny Depp is good enough to eat” and you call the police and say I play to murder him then you are the dangerous idiot not me. While I believe any and all threats made at school should be taken seriously, the kid didn’t shout “He’s got a bomb!” in the middle of an assembly; he cracked a smart ass joke on the internet followed by “Dude I was just kidding.” It’s an outrage that the kid faces a conviction and possible expulsion, an absolute outrage. I find the measures taken by the authorities to be a gross overreaction and I feel it directly encroaches on all our civil rights.
***
Stephen Dickson (Chief of Rockton Police) - chief@rockton.wsHononegah School Board:
David Kurlinkus (President) (Term expires 2007) - DKurlinkus@aol.com
Kerwood Watts (Vice-President) (Term expires 2007) - watts@firstrockford.com
Tana Vettore (Secretary) (term expires 2009) - napactr@charter.net
Sandy Fordell (term expires 2009) - fordrock5@charter.net
Diane LaForge (term expires 2009) - d2jj@hotmail.com
Scott Moyer (term expires 2009) - scott.moyer@hs.utc.com
Bob Zoeller (Term expires 2007) bob.zoeller@charter.net
Nov 3, 2006
Planarity
I am soo addicted to this game. I made it to level 11 the other night and worked on it for far too long. It's like untying knotted shoe laces only more so. It's so simple and so addictive.
www.planarity.net
www.planarity.net
Nov 2, 2006
A Present
Ella puts her hand out towards me in an effort to hand me something. I reach for it and she says "I have a booger, my nose spit it out. Here."
Nov 1, 2006
Slush
Thus begins the long slog through winter. We’ll have days and days of rain and slush from the sky and perhaps even a little snow that may stick before the New Year. The span above will turn a permanent grey and we will scrunch up and scowl every time we step outside in an effort to keep warm. My knuckles will chap after doing dishes and Ella’s cheeks will turn bright red with dryness and she will cry when I try to smear coco butter across her face. We’ll turn the heat down to 68° we’ll wear itchy wool sweaters and turn on the space heater before each bath. The dog will refuse to go out a pee on really cold slushy days and just do it on the deck creating little yellow ice patches close to the corner that I will want to hose off - but wont (gross). Can you tell this is by far not my favorite part of the year? I’d much prefer lying on the sandy beach at Pearl Lake sipping beer while Ella splashes spring water on her knees. So, I feel a list is needed.
Things I am looking forward to:
1. Turkey and stuffing
2. My first roller derby bout
3. Winter Solstice
4. The holidays
5. Ella’s birthday
6. Valentines Day
7. Another trip to Vegas?
8. Art gala/benefit for the library
9. St. Patrick’s Day
10. SPRING
Things I am looking forward to:
1. Turkey and stuffing
2. My first roller derby bout
3. Winter Solstice
4. The holidays
5. Ella’s birthday
6. Valentines Day
7. Another trip to Vegas?
8. Art gala/benefit for the library
9. St. Patrick’s Day
10. SPRING
Oct 31, 2006
Three Brains
“Dude, there is a brain in your driveway! I was out there smoking and I walked out to the road and I swear to God there is a full brain extracted from the head of something in your driveway!”
“Ha ha, really funny. Did you think that was going to scare me or something?”
“Dude I wouldn’t sh*t you about this – there is a BRRAINNN in your driveway! Come and look at it”
“Alright, let me get my shoes on.”
…
“What is that?”
“It’s a brain, I told you! Is someone mad enough at you to throw a fetal pig brain in your driveway? Or maybe it’s from a dead raccoon.”
“What? You think someone cut the brain out of a dead raccoon and threw it in my driveway? ... No, it wouldn’t be big enough. That brain came from something bigger.”
“If it’s fresh shouldn’t it be bloody?”
“It rained like crazy this morning; it would’ve washed it clean so there’s no way to know.”
“Dude! See – it is a brain isn’t it! How did you get a brain in your driveway?”
“That can’t be what it is, let’s look at it closer. Get a stick”
“I’m not going to poke it with a stick! Gross! ”
“That’s ok, I found one, I’ll poke it.”
“Dude, don’t lean so close! What if it…”
“What jumps onto my head and bites me? Yeah right, in the middle of the day in my driveway a human brain gets loose and bites me on the neck.”
“Where would someone get a human brain?... Maybe we should call the police?”
“Hell na! Do you remember the scarecrow incident?! Let’s poke it first”
…
“It’s mushy.”
“I think I’m going to puke”
“The stick poked right into it and brain juice came out.”
“Siiiick. Don't poke it anymore!”
“How in the F* did I get a brain in my driveway? What do we do with it?”
“Well, you can’t just put it in Tuesday’s trash.”
“Let’s ask my mom, she’s going to be home pretty soon”
“We have to wait for her or she’ll run it over with her car.”
…
“Mom! Stop the car! Don’t pull in you gotta see this!”
“Why are you kids standing around the rice cake I dropped this morning? My, oh- my, those really swell up when they get rained on…”
Happy Halloween!
Go see what we were for Halloween at TaterTot's Thoughts today.
“Ha ha, really funny. Did you think that was going to scare me or something?”
“Dude I wouldn’t sh*t you about this – there is a BRRAINNN in your driveway! Come and look at it”
“Alright, let me get my shoes on.”
…
“What is that?”
“It’s a brain, I told you! Is someone mad enough at you to throw a fetal pig brain in your driveway? Or maybe it’s from a dead raccoon.”
“What? You think someone cut the brain out of a dead raccoon and threw it in my driveway? ... No, it wouldn’t be big enough. That brain came from something bigger.”
“If it’s fresh shouldn’t it be bloody?”
“It rained like crazy this morning; it would’ve washed it clean so there’s no way to know.”
“Dude! See – it is a brain isn’t it! How did you get a brain in your driveway?”
“That can’t be what it is, let’s look at it closer. Get a stick”
“I’m not going to poke it with a stick! Gross! ”
“That’s ok, I found one, I’ll poke it.”
“Dude, don’t lean so close! What if it…”
“What jumps onto my head and bites me? Yeah right, in the middle of the day in my driveway a human brain gets loose and bites me on the neck.”
“Where would someone get a human brain?... Maybe we should call the police?”
“Hell na! Do you remember the scarecrow incident?! Let’s poke it first”
…
“It’s mushy.”
“I think I’m going to puke”
“The stick poked right into it and brain juice came out.”
“Siiiick. Don't poke it anymore!”
“How in the F* did I get a brain in my driveway? What do we do with it?”
“Well, you can’t just put it in Tuesday’s trash.”
“Let’s ask my mom, she’s going to be home pretty soon”
“We have to wait for her or she’ll run it over with her car.”
…
“Mom! Stop the car! Don’t pull in you gotta see this!”
“Why are you kids standing around the rice cake I dropped this morning? My, oh- my, those really swell up when they get rained on…”
Happy Halloween!
Go see what we were for Halloween at TaterTot's Thoughts today.
Oct 30, 2006
Sixteen Years Ago Today
“Karla! I think you should go around the block, I just saw someone in the ditch.”
“What do you mean you saw someone in the ditch?! Like waiting to jump out?”
“No, I mean I saw someone lying in the ditch, like it looked like their leg was all twisted up. Oh. My. God. Someone just got hit by a car and their lying in the ditch! You have to go around the block!”
The car circles the block while five teenage girls search out the window in silence.
“OhmyGod! Someone IS in the ditch!”
“Oh their leg looks bent at a BAD angle, that’s not good.”
“Ohmygod,Ohmygod,Ohmygod,Ohmygod, what do I do? Should we stop?”
“Yeah, let’s stop and see if their ok…”
“What if it’s a prank and someone jumps out at us?”
“OhmyGod, OhmyGod what if their DEAD?!”
“AAAAAH! Don’t stop! Let’s go back to my house and call 911!”
“AHHHH!”
“Eeeeeeeeek!”
“Ug Ick Groooooosse!”
“Ok, let’s go back to your house and tell your mom and call 911”
After much frantic yelling and one concerned call to 911 the girls get back in the car and drive up the street to see what the police find. The street is filled with at least three police cars and as they pull up to the crime scene a police officer walks up to their window. Karla rolls it down and they all lean over to hear what's happening.
“Are you the girls that called this in?”
“Yes sir. Is it bad?”
“You know you girls can get into a lot of trouble for this.”
“OhmyGod Officer we didn’t hit anyone! Are they dead?!”
“We’re going to jail! They think we killed someone!”
“Oh No ~whimper~”
"I swear we didn't hit anyone! I can't go to jail! OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod"
"Listen ladies, we don’t like false reports and you girls probably think it's pretty funny but it costs the taxpayers alot of money when somone pulls a stunt like this, do you understand?"
"huh?"
"Karla, it's a scarecrow... look over there, he's holding it up... it's a scarecrow!"
"We'll let you off this time, but don't you girls go pulling anything like this again ok?"
“What do you mean you saw someone in the ditch?! Like waiting to jump out?”
“No, I mean I saw someone lying in the ditch, like it looked like their leg was all twisted up. Oh. My. God. Someone just got hit by a car and their lying in the ditch! You have to go around the block!”
The car circles the block while five teenage girls search out the window in silence.
“OhmyGod! Someone IS in the ditch!”
“Oh their leg looks bent at a BAD angle, that’s not good.”
“Ohmygod,Ohmygod,Ohmygod,Ohmygod, what do I do? Should we stop?”
“Yeah, let’s stop and see if their ok…”
“What if it’s a prank and someone jumps out at us?”
“OhmyGod, OhmyGod what if their DEAD?!”
“AAAAAH! Don’t stop! Let’s go back to my house and call 911!”
“AHHHH!”
“Eeeeeeeeek!”
“Ug Ick Groooooosse!”
“Ok, let’s go back to your house and tell your mom and call 911”
After much frantic yelling and one concerned call to 911 the girls get back in the car and drive up the street to see what the police find. The street is filled with at least three police cars and as they pull up to the crime scene a police officer walks up to their window. Karla rolls it down and they all lean over to hear what's happening.
“Are you the girls that called this in?”
“Yes sir. Is it bad?”
“You know you girls can get into a lot of trouble for this.”
“OhmyGod Officer we didn’t hit anyone! Are they dead?!”
“We’re going to jail! They think we killed someone!”
“Oh No ~whimper~”
"I swear we didn't hit anyone! I can't go to jail! OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod"
"Listen ladies, we don’t like false reports and you girls probably think it's pretty funny but it costs the taxpayers alot of money when somone pulls a stunt like this, do you understand?"
"huh?"
"Karla, it's a scarecrow... look over there, he's holding it up... it's a scarecrow!"
"We'll let you off this time, but don't you girls go pulling anything like this again ok?"
Oct 28, 2006
North Second Street
When you’re a kid and creepy things hit the news where you live you file them away under ‘Proof of the Supernatural’ in your brain and you only open that file once in a while when your sitting around a campfire with close friends or blogging for Halloween. When I was young I filled my file cabinet with stories from the occult. This was during the time of the PMRC and the kid who killed himself after listening to Judas Priest, heavy metal hair bands wore pentagrams on their belt buckles and parents everywhere were ‘concerned’ that Twisted Sister was twisting our sisters.
At the all night skates inevitably we would end up huddled up in our sleeping bags in the middle of the skating rink hearing stories that “I swear to God are true, it happened to my sister’s boyfriend’s cousin…” Around this time, the local news broke a story too gruesome to ignore. A senior at a local high school killed his best friend in some sort of ritualistic occult-like slaughter. If I remember correctly he beheaded him and then hid the body and head under his bed. His dad found the body, upon which the son killed his father and shortly after committed suicide. We talked about it for months around campfires, at parties and at the skating rink surmising the motive and circumstances regarding the deaths, and wondered at the connections to rumors about ritualistic animal killings at a local and close state park or Witch Beulah, or Bloods Point Cemetery. Over the years it all kind of faded away into the microfesh of the brain.
It turns out a house like that is hard to sell after such an incident, they tend to go pretty cheap if at all because they have to disclose the murder. Everyone knew the house and the story and so it went until years later long after we had all stopped talking and people quit driving by a divorced mother of three boys moved to the area to be closer to the son that lived with his Dad. The realtor informed her people died in the house but she didn’t seem to mind. It was cute and cheap so she bought it. Soon she and her youngest son started to hear things in the middle of the night: bumps, pounding, stomping across floors and slamming doors. Her boyfriend, a retired police officer moved in and he installed locks and motion activated lights and soon no body was getting any sleep.
Amidst all the uproar happening in the night the woman’s middle son Brian asked to move in with her – it seemed he was uncomfortable sleeping at his Father’s house, something about rumors or whispers in the middle of the night. Yes, you read that right, Brian’s mother was the woman that bought the house. Poor guy couldn’t get away from it. While he was having problems at his Dad’s house with creepy whisperings and glowing green orbs, across the river over at his mother’s house his little brother was waking up to doors slamming and stomping through the halls. Twice his mother’s boyfriend called the police about the stomping and pounding but when the police could find no one and no point of entry they stopped reporting it.
While there, his little brother had a freak accident with a jungle-gym of all harmless things. He was hanging by his arms when the pipe broke and fell on his face, half his skull crushed inward breaking his eye socket and check bone. He underwent reconstructive surgeries and was never quite the happy silly kid I remembered. The family was mired in bad luck while they lived in those houses; divorces, car accidents, quarrels, miscarriages, dead pets, and in general restlessness and ire. Of course all of those things happen in day to day living especially when with teenagers in the house but it felt excessive for such a normal bunch of people to endure.
Please pardon Blogger is having trouble today
Oct 27, 2006
Old River Road
Brian’s parents had bought the house cheap. They were the first one’s to live there after the murders. It had a beautiful kitchen with and island and breakfast nook, five bedrooms, an office, a three car garage and finished basement, a great room, a giant deck and two acres that backed up onto a fishing pond. We used to tease Brian because his parent could never pass up a deal, they bought generic toilet paper and there was never anything good to eat at his house beyond Ramen Noodles and often Brian had irregular winter coats with a zipper that wouldn’t zip or a bleach mark on the sleeve. Our families didn’t have that much money but Brian’s parents were the cheapest rich folks we ever heard of so Brian fit right in with us.
Every Christmas Brian’s parents would go to the Bahamas and leave him and his three sisters home in the big house alone. The Bahamas are cheap over Christmas and they figured the kids were old enough that they wouldn’t mind celebrating in January instead. It made me a little sad for them and I think it made them a little sad too because in retaliation every Christmas they would throw a giant party while their parents were gone. Two full high schools would attend Harlem and Auburn. One year it was so big the police stopped to see what was happening and when we told them it was a wedding reception they helped us direct traffic a little so we could park more cars. Technically it wasn’t a lie, Troy and his girlfriend had gotten married at the court house earlier that day and we had bought a cake but most of the attendees had no idea of the nuptials they were just in attendance to “par-tay”.
After the party there would always be some stragglers who wouldn’t leave. Brian would tell them about the house giving them the full tour. He’d always start with the history and how the boyfriend flipped out and tied up the entire family and beat them to death and then shot them for good measure. He’d move on to how the crazed murderer boyfriend went on living in the back woods hiding out from the police until he ran out of cocaine and committed suicide. Then he would wrap it up standing in the great room where he would point dramatically upwards towards the blood spatters that had sunk deep into the wood ceiling.
Brian’s parents were so cheap that when they discovered the blood on the ceiling in the great room instead of replacing the wood beams they sprayed a little Windex on it and resigned themselves to not talk abut the stains. Well, you can’t give a seventeen year old boy with a preoccupation for gross a better exhibit. Inevitably whenever Brian would end the tour with the grand sweep of his arm pointing upward the remaining party guests would make hasty goodbyes. The night of Troy’s reception went down just like that. Brian had chased the unknowns out of the house with the grizzly tour leaving Troy, Troy’s new wife, John, Shawn, Brian and myself sitting around the kitchen table playing cards and drinking beer.
I sat at the head of the table with the door to the great room on my right and the rest of the kitchen and the door to the basement to my left. As I dealt another hand of Five Card, I heard whispers float around me calling my name over and over “Jenny, jennY, jeNNy, jeNNY, JEnny, jenny, Jenny!” They seemed to start on my right and float right behind me and then end in my left ear. I must’ve looked quite startled because Shawn looked right at me and said
“Did you hear that too?”
My reply was “What! What did YOU hear?”
What he said made my eyes water
“I heard someone calling my name in a whisper like ‘ShawN, SHAWn, shawn, shaWN, SHhhawn, ShAWN!’ right there in the great room and then towards the basement door”.
The rest of the table busted up laughing. Really hard. At us. Shawn got mad and threw his cards down while I changed chairs. John stood up and checked the fridge for more beer, I tensed up as he walked towards the whisper but felt a little relieved someone was going to make sure there wasn’t one last unknown party-goer messing with us. When John went to the basement to retrieve more beer from the bar, I felt a little scarred for him and said
“Shouldn’t someone go with him?” only to be met with more laughter.
All I could think was "This is how the movie starts!" Moments later John was standing at the top of the stars having run back up them three at a time. His face and lips white as can be, all the blood must've gone to his legs to get him up the stairs that fast. Without a word he walked straight out onto the front porch and got his keys out of his pocket before we could discern what happened was this:
He went to the rec room and walked around the pool table towards the bar to get an armload of beer. Before he leaned down to open the mini-fridge he caught a glimpse of the mirror behind the bar and the reflection of a drunk guy standing behind him. John turned around to tell the guy the party was over to find an empty room behind him. He didn’t wait to take a second look in the mirror he just flew up the stairs back towards the sound of our voices. No one laughed at him, he looked too shaky to be laughed at. Someone said “maybe we should go check out the basement”. No body did and those that stayed slept in the great room together that night.
“The Tour” was rarely given after that night and we all felt a little bad for Brian living in that house. We continued to share stories about the whispers we heard in the house and when Brian’s puppy died in a mysterious freak accident involving a plastic bag when nobody was home, we started to suggest he move in with his mom. His mother lived across the river in an equally creepy house but that story is for another day.
Every Christmas Brian’s parents would go to the Bahamas and leave him and his three sisters home in the big house alone. The Bahamas are cheap over Christmas and they figured the kids were old enough that they wouldn’t mind celebrating in January instead. It made me a little sad for them and I think it made them a little sad too because in retaliation every Christmas they would throw a giant party while their parents were gone. Two full high schools would attend Harlem and Auburn. One year it was so big the police stopped to see what was happening and when we told them it was a wedding reception they helped us direct traffic a little so we could park more cars. Technically it wasn’t a lie, Troy and his girlfriend had gotten married at the court house earlier that day and we had bought a cake but most of the attendees had no idea of the nuptials they were just in attendance to “par-tay”.
After the party there would always be some stragglers who wouldn’t leave. Brian would tell them about the house giving them the full tour. He’d always start with the history and how the boyfriend flipped out and tied up the entire family and beat them to death and then shot them for good measure. He’d move on to how the crazed murderer boyfriend went on living in the back woods hiding out from the police until he ran out of cocaine and committed suicide. Then he would wrap it up standing in the great room where he would point dramatically upwards towards the blood spatters that had sunk deep into the wood ceiling.
Brian’s parents were so cheap that when they discovered the blood on the ceiling in the great room instead of replacing the wood beams they sprayed a little Windex on it and resigned themselves to not talk abut the stains. Well, you can’t give a seventeen year old boy with a preoccupation for gross a better exhibit. Inevitably whenever Brian would end the tour with the grand sweep of his arm pointing upward the remaining party guests would make hasty goodbyes. The night of Troy’s reception went down just like that. Brian had chased the unknowns out of the house with the grizzly tour leaving Troy, Troy’s new wife, John, Shawn, Brian and myself sitting around the kitchen table playing cards and drinking beer.
I sat at the head of the table with the door to the great room on my right and the rest of the kitchen and the door to the basement to my left. As I dealt another hand of Five Card, I heard whispers float around me calling my name over and over “Jenny, jennY, jeNNy, jeNNY, JEnny, jenny, Jenny!” They seemed to start on my right and float right behind me and then end in my left ear. I must’ve looked quite startled because Shawn looked right at me and said
“Did you hear that too?”
My reply was “What! What did YOU hear?”
What he said made my eyes water
“I heard someone calling my name in a whisper like ‘ShawN, SHAWn, shawn, shaWN, SHhhawn, ShAWN!’ right there in the great room and then towards the basement door”.
The rest of the table busted up laughing. Really hard. At us. Shawn got mad and threw his cards down while I changed chairs. John stood up and checked the fridge for more beer, I tensed up as he walked towards the whisper but felt a little relieved someone was going to make sure there wasn’t one last unknown party-goer messing with us. When John went to the basement to retrieve more beer from the bar, I felt a little scarred for him and said
“Shouldn’t someone go with him?” only to be met with more laughter.
All I could think was "This is how the movie starts!" Moments later John was standing at the top of the stars having run back up them three at a time. His face and lips white as can be, all the blood must've gone to his legs to get him up the stairs that fast. Without a word he walked straight out onto the front porch and got his keys out of his pocket before we could discern what happened was this:
He went to the rec room and walked around the pool table towards the bar to get an armload of beer. Before he leaned down to open the mini-fridge he caught a glimpse of the mirror behind the bar and the reflection of a drunk guy standing behind him. John turned around to tell the guy the party was over to find an empty room behind him. He didn’t wait to take a second look in the mirror he just flew up the stairs back towards the sound of our voices. No one laughed at him, he looked too shaky to be laughed at. Someone said “maybe we should go check out the basement”. No body did and those that stayed slept in the great room together that night.
“The Tour” was rarely given after that night and we all felt a little bad for Brian living in that house. We continued to share stories about the whispers we heard in the house and when Brian’s puppy died in a mysterious freak accident involving a plastic bag when nobody was home, we started to suggest he move in with his mom. His mother lived across the river in an equally creepy house but that story is for another day.
Oct 26, 2006
The Ol' Jailhouse Downtown
When I was maybe seven I begged my Mom to bring me to the JCs haunted jailhouse downtown. It was an actual abandoned jailhouse and I imagined real ghosts creaking and squeaking around corners scaring the wits out of us all as we tiptoed through. What I witnessed was far more terrifying; ghouls with blood dripping off their hanging flesh rattled the jail house bars with their limbs stretching out and tearing at our clothes all the while wailing to be let go the jailer lashing at them with a cat-o-nine tails from the back of the cell, just inches from my hidden face. Possessed women with hair like seaweed snorted and snarled through their mangled mouths threatening to send evil spirits straight after me if I stared too long as Mom carried me past their green puke filled chambers. Long dark twisting corridors ambled through unknown realms seemingly endless in their terror inducing fervor as I walked sharing the insides of Mom’s coat clutching hold of her with every cell in my body. Finally we emerged out into the warm glow of the street lights and my exhausted Mom peeled me off of her and set my terrified body into the backseat of the car. I begged to go again every year until it closed.
Oct 25, 2006
Handsome Jack
Dear Great Pumpkin,
This year I won’t be able to sit in a pumpkin patch and wait for you I have to take my daughter trick or treating, but should you roll past my house and decide I have the best looking jack-o-lanterns please leave me a dozen roses, a box of chocolates, a dishwasher, some new head phones, cute fuzzy knee-high boots, a Beastie Boys CD (“Check Your Head”), a new garbage disposal, some warm socks, toe guards for my skates, a giant planter for my Dracaena-Fragrans and a new pair of jeans that make my butt look great.
Love,
Bombadee
This year I won’t be able to sit in a pumpkin patch and wait for you I have to take my daughter trick or treating, but should you roll past my house and decide I have the best looking jack-o-lanterns please leave me a dozen roses, a box of chocolates, a dishwasher, some new head phones, cute fuzzy knee-high boots, a Beastie Boys CD (“Check Your Head”), a new garbage disposal, some warm socks, toe guards for my skates, a giant planter for my Dracaena-Fragrans and a new pair of jeans that make my butt look great.
Love,
Bombadee
Oct 24, 2006
That Other Time I Almost Died
The tree outside our window is finally bare the leaves torn off through many nights of cold winds. It stands out there looking lonely with its only inhabitant a widower squirrel. The tree had a matching companion that was here when we moved in and then gone after one particularly violent summer storm. Half of it fell into our yard and ripped the electrical line down to the ground. We weren’t home when it happened. Dan was picking me up from a hospital in Chicago. I had been working in Addison and the company I was consulting for had rented a hotel for me in Villa Park.
I was on my second month getting the office turned around and had grown pretty comfortable working there. On this particular Friday I was experiencing what I thought was the same old pain I always had when my ovarian cysts acted up. I’d had them for years in fact they once almost took my appendix out because of my pain. Frequent trips to the emergency room in the middle of the night often resulted in being sent home with Tylenol and a heating pad so most times I'd opt to forgo the emergency room co-pay and instead writh around on the floor of my own bathroom for a couple of hours instead.
I decided that when my shift was over I would just spend the weekend in the city instead of the long drive home. Dan was in Baltimore for the weekend and Dave (our neighbor) would take care up the pups and so there was no reason I couldn’t just go lay down at my hotel and sleep through the pain in my side. While waiting for the end of the shift the hours seemed to drag by and the employees kept asking if I was ok and telling me I didn’t look so good. Finally one young man, Joe K. said “That’s it Jenny I’m taking you to the hospital”. I refused and told him I was going to just go lay down at my hotel and he said “No way let’s go”. I could barely stand up. He and Joe M. carried me to his car.
This was all very fitting for the young rebel Joe K. was only 17 and often in trouble at work for not listening or showing up late. I’d thought about firing him but damn if he wasn’t a charming salesman and always making quota. He put me in the front seat and started his powder blue ’67 Chevy; I curled up into a ball with my sweaty head near his leg. He kept sweeping my soaked hair off of my face and asking “Are you sure you’re doing ok?” and for the first half of the ride I was annoyed with his questioning and the second half I was screaming for him to drive faster. When we reached the emergency room he intended to park his powder blue baby but instead slid up to the outside the doors leaving the car idiling keys in it with the passenger side open while he ran in and yelled for someone to come and help. I was drenched in sweat and shaking – my appendix was inflamed and ready to kill me.
Good ol’ Joe paced the hall until my Mom drove in and sent him home. He sent flowers and a little stuffed leopard to the hospital. Poor Dan was greeted on Sunday at O’Hare airport by my Mom and the harrowing story. Shortly after that I quit my job to find something closer to home and family. The tree in my side yard is still gone like my appendix and today I wonder what Joe is doing.
I was on my second month getting the office turned around and had grown pretty comfortable working there. On this particular Friday I was experiencing what I thought was the same old pain I always had when my ovarian cysts acted up. I’d had them for years in fact they once almost took my appendix out because of my pain. Frequent trips to the emergency room in the middle of the night often resulted in being sent home with Tylenol and a heating pad so most times I'd opt to forgo the emergency room co-pay and instead writh around on the floor of my own bathroom for a couple of hours instead.
I decided that when my shift was over I would just spend the weekend in the city instead of the long drive home. Dan was in Baltimore for the weekend and Dave (our neighbor) would take care up the pups and so there was no reason I couldn’t just go lay down at my hotel and sleep through the pain in my side. While waiting for the end of the shift the hours seemed to drag by and the employees kept asking if I was ok and telling me I didn’t look so good. Finally one young man, Joe K. said “That’s it Jenny I’m taking you to the hospital”. I refused and told him I was going to just go lay down at my hotel and he said “No way let’s go”. I could barely stand up. He and Joe M. carried me to his car.
This was all very fitting for the young rebel Joe K. was only 17 and often in trouble at work for not listening or showing up late. I’d thought about firing him but damn if he wasn’t a charming salesman and always making quota. He put me in the front seat and started his powder blue ’67 Chevy; I curled up into a ball with my sweaty head near his leg. He kept sweeping my soaked hair off of my face and asking “Are you sure you’re doing ok?” and for the first half of the ride I was annoyed with his questioning and the second half I was screaming for him to drive faster. When we reached the emergency room he intended to park his powder blue baby but instead slid up to the outside the doors leaving the car idiling keys in it with the passenger side open while he ran in and yelled for someone to come and help. I was drenched in sweat and shaking – my appendix was inflamed and ready to kill me.
Good ol’ Joe paced the hall until my Mom drove in and sent him home. He sent flowers and a little stuffed leopard to the hospital. Poor Dan was greeted on Sunday at O’Hare airport by my Mom and the harrowing story. Shortly after that I quit my job to find something closer to home and family. The tree in my side yard is still gone like my appendix and today I wonder what Joe is doing.
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