My Weekly Gift To You....2/3rds Wednesday's

My two kids are given a precious gift each week during the school year, courtesy of the local public school system.  Early dismissal Wednesday's. How cool is that? Every week, they run shortened class periods on Wednesday, in order for school to let out approximately two hours early.

Why a weekly early dismissal?

"Supposedly" for the teachers in each department to come together and "plan/discuss" how the teaching is going, where to readjust curricula, and maybe to have a once-a-week blowout beer and pizza party in the library (just guessing, it's how I'd spend that time!)

So it is no surprise I was chatting with my high-school freshman daughter last night about how I would like to have early dismissal once-a-week in my job (something like 2 pm on a Wednesday), to "plan/discuss/readjust", and maybe grab an early beer (just calling early dismissal for what it really is). 

She then says to me, "You need to become an entrepreneur.  You need an idea."

Pause...And Dream With Me

Yeah, that's the ticket! I have an idea.  

EVERY WORKER IN AMERICA GETS 2/3rds WEDNESDAY's!

Geez, this idea stuff is easy.  Americans are all cheering loudly right now.  They all need time to "plan/discuss/readjust".  And grab a beer.  We can meet at the local pub/tavern to do what we need to do (those workers get off early on Thursday.  Someone has to serve the drinks.  Don't think I didn't see that potential flaw in my idea and close it pretty quickly). Of course, happy hour is still designated to begin at 3:00 pm each Friday...as everyone has informal early dismissal then already.  Nightime worker shift?  You get to organize a team, utilizing my unflawed line of thinking to determine what works best for you. My guess is you want to join us at the pub Wednesday too. 

As a newly hailed entrepreneur, I am going to need your help though.  I just can't give these ideas out for free. This idea has to be sustainable and revenue generating in order for me to pay the bills.  No worries - I'll be setting up donation accounts at Kickstarter.com and Gofundme.com.  With your generous financial support, I'll have time to come up with more great ideas that can benefit all of us.  I'm already thinking about Funday as the new day to follow Wednedsay.  That's the new mini mid-week weekend, 'cause when you combine it with our new 2/3rds Wednesday early dismissal benefit, lots of PTO will be used for all Wednesday, and viola, I've created the new 4 day work week (a week now being 8 days).  You can see I've given this a lot of thought.

Ok, gotta stop dreaming now. Otherwise I won't have anything to do next Wednesday at 2:00 pm. I'll save you a spot at my pub table.


Missed last week's posts?  Catch up on the fun here:

I Love You...But Your Trash...   and    Break Out Your Inner Olympian! I have.

I Love You....But Your Trash...

Marketing folks are so creative and will do almost anything to get your attention and sell their product.  It's all about upping the game over a competitor.  But there are moments that necessitate taking a pause. 

Like this Waste Management message that arrived in my email earlier this week.  Thanks to moving into a new home, I've landed on one of the most coveted distribution lists in the greater Colorado region.

There are great pairs in life. Peanut butter and jelly. Steak and potatoes. Bert and Ernie, The Cubs and world championships.  And:

Love and Garbage

That's right. "Don't settle for less than you deserve."  Get your sweetie a $25 gift card by renting a dumpster.  I can hear it now in households across the country, "Honey, put your best shoes on, I'm gonna treat you to Hooters tonight, courtesy of Waste Management!"

Wait, it's a "virtual reward card".  WTH?  How is that used?

Pause...And Dream With Me

This is how it is going to go down in our house later tonight.  "Happy Valentine's Day. You're the best, but spring is coming and something has gotta change.  So I got you a box of chocolates, some sexy lingerie and a dumpster.  You know, so when YOU clean the house tomorrow you don't need to worry about us running out of garbage bags.  I'm thinking that this will make it easy for YOU to sort through YOUR crap, and by getting the X-Large dumpster, you won't need to think twice about whether I'm gonna hurt my back dragging your crap to the street.  I'll even help point out what needs to go, as I've noticed you've had a little junk in the trunk lately."

Yes, as the email says "Valentine's Day is a great occasion to gather the things you love, and ditch the things you don't."  Like your spouse.  Waste Management is going to be responsible for more divorce filings beginning on February 15th than any company ever before. 

I'm not going to fall for this marketing (marriage wrecking) ploy.  I'm gonna play it smart and wait for the March "rent 2 dumpsters, get $50 in rewards" special.  Then a real night on the town for my honey awaits: Hooters and a strip club.  Classy? No....trashy!  Thank you Waste Management.

Break Out Your Inner Olympian! I have.

 

I AM AN OLYMPIC CHAMPION.  Simply stated. I have been on the podium before and have brought home the gold.  More than once in fact.  Probably every Olympics since the '76 Games in Montreal. Surprised?  You shouldn't be...I am that good.  Humble about it too, as I have waited this long to tell anyone about those accomplishments.

Better yet, YOU are an Olympic Champion as well (except if we were competing in the same event, then you are a silver medalist.  A champion, but second tier quality).  Go ahead and say it out loud "I am an Olympic Champion".  Ah....doesn't that feel good.

Chances are high that everyone of us has dreamed of winning something in our lifetime, and put ourselves in the shoes of the amazing athletes we are currently watching in Sochi.  We're dreamers.  You and me.  Dreaming about what it would be like to be the best in the world, and then have the opportunity to stand atop the podium (well, I'd be on top - you may be a tier down from me), and hearing our country's anthem, Born in the USA, played.  Just kidding. I know it is God Bless America.

Unfortunately, my real Olympic dreams were over before I even had a chance. Thanks mom and dad.  You didn't push me hard enough when I was learning how not to mess my pants, to lace of the skates and master the triple lutz, all while wearing a flowing onesie.  Or turn our fun sled rides into a terrifying trip through high banks at 80 mph.  I would venture to guess that by the time in figured out what the Olympics were, it was likely 1976, and I was well behind in what should have been at least an 8 hour a day training commitment, while managing tutoring and a 4 hour round trip commute to visit my coaches.  So now I am left to dream.  I am a Olympic champion at that too.

I still have proof of my awareness of those '76 Games, in the form of a paper we wrote for school (maybe around 4th or 5th grade). Topic: Our Hero.  Guess who I wrote about?  He's still famous today, for all the wrong reasons.

I can't utter the name, so a picture will have to do. I am so ashamed. Olympic Decathlon champion. Mr. Wheaties. Mrs. Kardashian.  My hero.  Pause with me.....while I go puke. I may just go find that paper and post it for a well deserved public shaming.

Back to OUR dreams and why we are Olympic Champions.  We are all great at something.  In our minds.  We can't be beat and we dream of what it would be like to be on top of the world.  I am reminded of a joke that rotund comedian Louie Anderson once told about the Olympics he competed in.

"Broad Jump.  Killed her."  Louie should have been my hero.  He's a champion.

Greatness is not some rare DNA strand....greatness is no more unique to us than breathing.  We are all capable of it.  All of us."  I love this short 1-minute YouTube video that reminds us our greatness lies within.   Watch it at your leisure, and then....

Pause...And Dream With Me

Lets break out your inner champion.  What Olympic sport...real sport, not shuffleboard...would you be a champion?  Comment below.  Me?  Love watching the ski jumping, but have memories of "the agony of defeat".  That looks like it would hurt.  I like going fast, so perhaps the luge/skeleton. But it's too many choices, deciding to be on my stomach or back, head first or feet first.   The biathlon seems cool - two very different disciplines in shooting and skiing, but why ski when you could just lay on the ground and shoot a rifle all day with a bowl of M&Ms next to you.  Team sport, like the 4-person bobsled looks like a lot fun, but I'd probably get stuck in the middle having to keep my head down the whole time.  I need to see where we are going. I want to drive.

No, none of those.  My sport would be Curling.  It doesn't get its due, and never gets the TV air time it needs to become a mainstream sport like football in the U.S.  Can you name one great curler (I mean, besides me)?  My inner Olympic champion is waiting to spring forth.  I could enter the sport in my mid-40s and still be successful.  You see, I would be the sweeper.  I'm pretty handy with a broom, contrary to what my wife might tell you. I might need to pick up my sweeping cadence a bit to really "massage" the ice, but I've already started to get some practice at that in Colorado this winter.  I could wear colorful pants (bonus!). And I could be a part of a larger team with my friends. Not a club sport, but a real Olympic "everyman" team.  First I need someone to toss the rock.  I have just the friend and teammate in mind. Jeff (Mr. X - 5).  He was always good at keeping things low to the ground, and may bounce the rock down the ice, but we'll cover for him.  I need another fellow sweeper.  Someone good at cleaning up messes.  I'd pick one of my kids, but I'd probably tell them to pick up a broom to clean up Jeff's mess, and they'd just look at me with a "are you kidding?" expression.  So, this team spot is open - message me if interested.  We'd also need a mentor, someone who's been a previous champion and could guide us down the champion path.  My other friend, Lisa, is in.  She's kick ass.  And yes, I said "other friend" - I have two (I am on Facebook...friend me).

Finally, the team needs a coach.  Someone to shout/plead/cajole us (i.e., me) when we (i.e., me) are under-performing. If only I knew someone close to me like that....thinking....thinking...I'm sure she'll, uh...it, will hit me soon.  LET THE GAMES BEGIN....

Our team is called to the line.  Jeff pushes rock...I sweep.  Jeff grabs beer...I sweep.   Lisa polishes her medals while encouraging....I sweep.  Jeff Beer #2.  Brenda...I mean "coach" tells me I am sweeping incorrectly (hey...this is my dream, no reality at all is implied by my writing)....I re-sweep.  (sweep - doesn't that look strange being said so many times? Squirrel!).  Rock does what it's supposed to do and gets where its supposed to be.  We win!  We are draped in the American flag. Pandemonium!!!

Cue the music!  God Bless America starts blaring over the loud speakers while the crowd goes wild!!!  We get our medals and I don't just stand stoically on the podium (the top tier) like most Olympians.  I am jumping about madly, screaming wildly, yelling "pump up the music!" I start some funky dance.  Wow....that would just be wildly absurd.  Another gold medal to add to my growing dream collection! 

And then my coach brings me back to reality.  "Ken, the kids made a mess on the floor and won't clean it up. They just look at me funny. Here's a broom. Clean it up, Mr. Olympic Champion"

See you Rio in 2016. But to manage your expectations, expect a silver. I'll be defending a title.

I'm back.  It's not like I was ever gone. More like on a hiatus from blogging.  So why start up again....

Well, I've been thinking about the interesting things that we see and experience each day, and how that impacts our reality. Or in my case, what I might dream about...how ridiculous it may be, and where those two intersect.   I have lots of dreams:  to play centerfield for the Chicago Cubs, be on Dancing With The Stars, retire early, shout at rude people on airplanes, and build a deep earth bunker in the backyard.  Yeah, not really on that last one, but the latest episode of Doomsday Bunkers does have me dreaming about becoming a Prepper (oh yeah, read on friends).

Why would you want to read my drivel?  Humor mostly. My creative outlet.  Maybe you'll chuckle out loud, or wet your pants (that would be so cool), or tell a friend, or give me another idea to write about.

So what do ya say? Subscribe via email to the right to get each post delivered to your in box. Or just bookmark this page.  I may need to work out some kinks along the way...but that's what makes this genuine. Can't tell you the frequency or topics of future posts, but I am confident I won't be short of content given what I see each day.  And I hope to conclude each with a "Pause...And Dream With Me" moment. Lets get it started, shall we?

Should You Become A Doomsday Prepper?

I went to run at our local rec center a few days ago, and the TV attached to the treadmill I picked out was already tuned to a show on the Discovery Channel (I think).  Normally I would switch to something sports related, but my attention was instantly drawn to the small words in the upper right corner of the screen "Doomsday Bunkers".  Whoa....couldn't get my headphones plugged in quick enough.  In short, this show follows the owners and employees of Deep Earth Bunkers, and their mission to help provide peace of mind to those average Joe's who believe others are out to get them, the sky is falling, the government has a conspiracy to control the weather, etc. and they need to protect themselves and their land.  Loretta in NY was one prepper highlighted. Some fine TV I tuned into.

Since I was on a longer run, I experienced the thrill of 90 minutes of the trials and tribulations of the Deep Earth crew and their clients.  One bunker was being constructed with an High-Def Periscope/video surveillance system that would resist an electromagnetic pulse event (EMP), and allow the prepper to see who was approach their land.  If that rogue gang of wrong-doers happen to breach the bunker door and venture down the steps, they would encounter a handrail on the stairs that is actually a flame thrower! Take that bad boys.  But, there is always the chance that the trespassers brought their own fire extinguisher and fire retardant wearables.  No worries, plan B kicks in - death spikes that drop from the ceiling.  Dang - that is prepared!  This bunker came with the small price tag of $50,000.  They now had my interest, and my checkbook out for an immediate deposit.   But then...

Loretta. She was a NY police woman for over 25 years, but is now concerned about fallout from a nearby power plant that happened to be built on a fault line.  Doh. That hinders home resale value.  But Loretta isn't too worried - you see she's a client with money to spare (blow?) - to the tune of $150,000 to build a 600 square foot bunker complete with kitchen, bath, sleeping accommodations for 10 (really 9, I've called dibs on one), storage for around 87 years of food, and two 500 gallon tanks for potable water.  She's a prepper times two!  Except....

Loretta doesn't want the bunker on her property near the plant, so she has purchased land 50 miles away for the bunker.  50 miles. 5 - 0. A prepper with foresight and the need for investment property.  But when the plant blows, she needs to get to her land, and is concerned about gridlock. So what does a prepper like Loretta do?  Takes a defensive driving class, of course. To learn how to ram through cars in her massive crown vic.  Like the fallout wouldn't get her before she gets to her second home.  Who puts their dream bunker 50 miles away!!  Loretta, that's who.  Holy crap. How many are out there like her???

And finally, the owner of Deep Earth Bunkers has an idea to build a tsunami proof pod bunker, complete with seats for two and ballast to enable it to stay upright when rocked by the big wave.  Oh, and it was able to withstand damage from a 2x4 being shot at it at 600 mph. And it was completely waterproof too. I started looking up the mailing address for his business so I could get the check in the mail.

Then I saw the flaw.  The bad guys always carry black spray paint, so my periscope would be worthless. Darn.  And Loretta's bunker?  No ceiling fan for the bathroom.  Major oversight when 10 of us have to go.  That model was out for me.  But all the bunkers? No fresh air filtration system.  I've seen enough 24 episodes with Jack Bauer to know that I'd be dead within hours. How can I breathe in a completely waterproof pod while enjoying a rollicking real-life version of the amusement park White Water Rampage ride.

So Pause...And Dream With Me. 

When I first started watching Doomsday Bunkers, I had great visions of a new Man Cave for our backyard - hidden from everyones view!  I could use my periscope to look at the mountains, munch on canned dry fruit, and drink the boxed wine that has been aging for the past 10 years.  ALL DAY LONG.  But then my reality hit.  I need to breathe.  I'll get my fresh air by running in the mountains of Colorado.  However... I am a bit worried about being on a running excursion, and accidentally trespassing onto a prepper's land.  If I have to start carrying spray paint and run in fire resistant clothes, I might need a bigger running budget.   I think $250k ought to do it.  For peace-of-mind.