From Russia With Love...

The tee times computer got a message today.

Good Afternoon,

How are you doing today? First, I would like you to know who I am. My name is Ekaterina and I am 28 years old. I am from Kinderi, which is situated in Russia. I would like to describe myself. I am intelligent, beautiful, kind-hearted, with a sense of humor, loving and caring. I want to tell you that I am writing to you because I am looking for a friend and a partner and my future husband. I wish my partner to be also loving, caring, tender, intelligent and kind. Please email me soon and send me a photo.

First of all, I can’t believe she wants me to be tender, but she doesn’t have to…

It seems though, that I don’t have to have a sense of humor. Does she think she is funny enough for the both of us?

I shouldn’t nitpick. Of all the people in the world, she picked me.

Reversal of Fortune...

Yesterday was Independence Day in the Dominican Republic.

Here’s the deal as I know it…for more information consult something official.

For outright lies try www.hillaryclinton.com.

Anyway, in 1844, the Dominican kicked the Haitians out and established their own country.

In the early 1930’s Trujillo took over. He didn’t like the Haitians very much. He managed to slaughter thousands of Haitians in a genocide that took place in the Northern part of the country. They lined up all the people and if you couldn’t say the word Perejil (parsley) by rolling the “r”, they killed you.

When this became known, Trujillo had to pay thousands of dollars in reparations to Haitians at the behest of the US Government.

Now the Haitians are gardenders and construction workers.

They used to run things here.

Take note.

I'd give anything to be more envious...

Two words about people who cheat on their golf handicap.

WHO CARES.

Go out and play...do your best. If you don’t win, quit crying.

What I want to know is, why can’t we celebrate success? I know precious few people who rejoice when good things happen to people.

A dear friend of mine inherited some money about ten years ago. He made smart choices and turned it into even more money. He was (and is) a good steward of it and was generous to many people, including me when I needed it (he didn’t give me money, he gave me a place to live). And he even let me act like an idiot while I lived there.

And he lost friends. I still can’t figure that one out.

There is an infinite amount of blessings out there. A blessing we receive isn’t subtracting from one another person might get. But this is how people act.

Everyone thinks they are getting cheated. If you’re rich, you’re a crook. If you won, you cheated. If you have a good job and live in the Caribbean, you’re an idiot.

Well, finally one I can agree with.

Well, I think Hugo Chavez is a better golfer than Fidel Castro...

We have a newsletter here that is circulated amongst the villa owners and those just living off the fat of the land (us) in exchange for work. I have written a few articles for this publication.

One of the most informative (and unintentionally funny) features is the Q & A.

This month, a question of security not responding quickly enough to a fist-fight at the Marina was brought up.

It begins…The night of December 31 around 2:30 a.m. a fight broke out amongst well-dressed men...

It goes on to describe the fight, which had the usual punching and kicking and screaming.

Well, first of all, what are you, writer of the complaint, doing out at 2:30 in the morning? I think, at 2:30 in the morning (unless you are up with a baby) you really don’t deserve much of an explanation for anyone else’s actions. You take your chances.

The response explained that security responded as quickly as possible and that the fight was amongst Venezuelans over “differing political views.” Ok, note to self…don’t argue with Venezuelans about politics unless you want your Armani suit to have to go to the cleaners.

But, at least they were well-dressed. You wouldn’t want to gouge someone’s eye while wearing a suit off the rack.

"C" is for Creativity....

It seems fashionable now for journalists to go back into people’s past and dig up their college thesis in hopes of finding something incriminating, like Hillary Clinton’s plan to try to pander to people she hates (I think the title was: Whatever I Need to Say or Do to Gain Power) and Mrs. Obama’s idea that there was a racial divide (oh, really?) that she wrote when she was 22 years old.

I don’t think I’ll ever run for office, but if I do, I’m going to save you the trouble of digging through my records.

The liberal arts school I graduated from required a Senior Project. It had to be a question asked and answered in fifty or so pages. My title was “Is Commercialism Ruining the PGA Tour?” It wasn’t exactly the kind of investigative journalism that would win the Pulitzer, but I was just trying to get a degree and get as far away from there as possible. My second idea was an expose on inaccuracies in the phone book, which, in retrospect, may have been more interesting.

I don’t remember what was said in the oral defense of the project except that I had to keep reminding the panel to drink their coffee and try to keep their eyes open.

A few years earlier, my high school biology class required that we do an experiment. You know, the whole stupid hypothesis, thesis, experiment, writing up the findings, try to stay awake until the end thing...

Well, I didn’t want to do it. So I made it up. I made up the whole thing. I even created a disaster in the middle of it, and was forced (to pretend) to start over. It was something involving fish and their eating habits in the dark versus the light. I can’t remember the findings.

I think I got a C.

People you meet in paradise...

A guy cut in front of another group and threatened them when they questioned his actions. I went out and arranged for the cut-off group to be restored to their original position on the golf course. A few days later, the offender wrote me a letter. I won't print his letter, but the response explains most of what he told me.

Sir,

We do not feel you acted appropriately in skipping the group ahead without speaking to them or asking to play through. And telling us you could have “kicked his ass” is disturbing. Pointing out your restraint in this area is not impressive. For a grown man to even suggest violence in a situation involving golf is embarrassing at best.

The third in your group was rather blunt in her assessment of the situation when I arrived at the 10th green. The story she recounted to me was not a collaboration of your story, but a condemnation of your actions.

Slow play is something we deal with as gentlemen, not as if it were a NASCAR race. While we are sorry you played a couple of holes slower than you would have liked, you finished in a little over four hours. This is an acceptable pace of play at a resort course. I’m sure your club in __________ would agree.

The fact that the players that were in front of you are friends of __________ made no difference in our actions to correct your error in judgment. We protect all clients. We would have done the same for you, if the situation had been reversed. Without hesitation.

While we appreciate your sending us your comments, it surprises us to think you had any reason to do so.

Sincerely,

epilouge: boss wouldn't let me send it...

A history of domestic help...

Life is more interesting when total strangers are in your house.

Dometilia was our first maid. She was the maid of the owner of the villa (that we rented) for 16 years. She was kind, sweet, lazy and a thief. She didn’t steal big stuff, just costume jewelry, t-shirts and cheese.

Enok was our gardener. He didn’t steal. That would have required ambition and he didn’t have any. He didn’t do much at all, if he bothered to show up. His name is pronounced close to “inutil”, which means “useless” in Spanish. It fit.

We had Jose and Johnny as gardners after the owner got rid of Enok. Good men. Now, we have Julio. The hotel supplies us with a gardner now, so we never know who we are going to get.

The former gardener at our second house (who lost his job when we moved in because the hotel took over the job) works for us too, taking care of the pool. We hired him because we felt bad he lost his job and we wanted to keep good relations with the owner of the villa. It has worked pretty well. When we need the owner to know something, Severino calls him. He really does nothing else, except show up on payday. But it’s an arrangement we are willing to live with.

When Grace was born, we needed a nanny. We asked Dometilia if she knew anyone. She told us Suegra was available. Suegra had about four teeth and spoke Spanish that not even Juan Valdez would have understood. She rocked Grace to sleep, watched TV, ate lunch and picked up around the house if something was in her way enroute to the refrigerator or bathroom. After about a month, we found out that her name wasn’t Suegra (Suegra was Spanish for Mother in Law), but Tata. We’d been calling her “Mother in Law” for a month. She didn’t mind. One night, she stayed late and I drove her home. That’s when we found out she didn’t know where she lived. The bus just always took her home and that was enough for her. When Grace began to move around, it was too much for her to keep up with and we said ta-ta to Tata.

After Tata, Dometilia suggested Milagros, her niece. She is still with us today. It’s been almost three years. She is wonderful. About once a month on a Saturday, she brings her seven-year old girls and 15-year old boy to the house for the day. Gracie loves her daughter Jasmine.

Milagros’ other daughter, Albania works as the night and weekend nanny. She lives with us five days a week. She is 20 years old, so it is like having another kid in the house at times, but she and Gracie genuinely love one another and she does a great job with John too. She is going to college during the day in Higuey.

Isa was the maid for a while, after Dometilia left. She worked about three months then moved to Higuey, a town about 30 miles away.

Meri is the maid now. She drives Holli crazy, does a rather mediocre job with the clothes and the cleaning, is a little crazy, but she loves Grace and John and is honest. We’ve had three separate plans to get rid of her, but we won’t.

We spend a lot of time “managing” our people. It’s not as easy as you might think. However, I’m not complaining. It’s a pretty nice thing to have, especially for us.

Occasionally, there are more employees in the house or around the lunch table than family. And when all of them are together in the house, it’s a little chaotic. But it’s a fun group, all with families and hope and dreams. They aren’t any different than we are.

So Jonathan won't have to worry....

I stared at a lot of women’s chests this morning.

We have a large group here and they get free range balls before they play. However, the rest of the players have to pay for range balls.

So when a player came over, I checked out their chest to see what kind of logo they had on their shirt. If it looked good to me, I gave them a range token for free.

Logos on shirts are a kind of status symbol. I wear a lot of Polo, mostly because I shop at the Polo outlet store. It says to people, “Hey, I got a discount!”

I wear the Casa de Campo logo at work. This helps people know who to complain to.

They don't come by much anymore...

Speaking can get you in trouble. Speaking a foreign language can get you in more trouble.

During my first month here, I came down to the office one night to finish some work for a tournament the next day.

I was here for about twenty minutes when a security guard knocked on the door and asked (in Spanish) what I was doing. I couldn’t really explain a whole lot, but convinced him I worked here. I don't remember how.

When he was about to leave I tried to tell him I was liked that he was around to keep things safe.

He got a funny look on his face and left quickly.

The next day, I repeated to Ilsa what I told him in Spanish.

She told me that I said I loved him and that I was glad he was there.

I'm not ADD, I'm paranoid...

Business cards are great. They help me greatly because I really am not paying attention to names when I meet people.

I’ll spend a whole day with someone and have no idea what their name is. Often.

I need to improve in this area.

The problem is, when I meet people and I shake their hand, I don’t even listen to their name. I am usually preoccupied with what kind of handshake they have…and I’m concentrating on not getting the handshake cut-off…the kind where you kind of clasp fingers instead of palms. Also, if their hand is wet, I wonder if they have just come from the restroom and if so, did they wash their hands or is this spillage…

With women, I don’t listen because I don’t know whether I’m supposed to kiss them on the cheek or just shake their hand. You have to watch for the lean. If they start to lean, I lean in for the kiss. Otherwise, a handshake is fine with me. I’m not Richard Dawson. But, I’ve done the single, the double and the excruciatingly uncomfortable triple kiss.

Also, remember to start by going to the left…it avoids an ill-timed kiss on the lips.

Anyway, by the time I get this taken care of, we are discussing where we are from or whatever. It’s a little late to go back and ask, “Now, who did you say you were?”

Especially if you just kissed them on the lips.

Or maybe it was the "Sound of Music"

Today is John’s first birthday, which means a year ago Holli was drugged and sliced open by a man who didn’t speak English. All before breakfast.

Holli had a big grin on her face for most of the procedure and told me (over and over again) that they gave her Demerol. It was nice to see her relaxed and calm. She even sang some Broadway show tunes to pass the time. “Anything Goes,” I think.

The operation was pretty simple, at least from my perspective. The Doctor got John out the escape hatch he created and sent him off to be cleaned and de-briefed.

This was the second Caesarean (I was there for Gracie also) that I have witnessed and it pretty much went the same way the first one did…except that after it was all done he “tied the tubes.”

Calling it “tying the tubes” isn’t the whole story. This was total annihilation. He made a loop, tied the loop together about an inch before the curve, cut the tubes above the loop, burned the free ends of the tubes and then put them back where he got them from before doing the same to the other side.

But calling it “tying, cutting and burning the tubes” would probably be a needless use of words and gore. Hence, the abbreviated name.

Anyway, John celebrated his birthday by waking up at 2 am this morning and not really sleeping much more than 2 or 3 hours the rest of the night, which only reminded his parents of how they felt one year ago on this day.

But don’t worry, I’m okay. If I only knew where the Demerol was….

The Journey...so far

Once upon a time I was told that my life could have a “do-over.” This made me quite angry, since the person suggesting the “do-over” was causing the reason for it being necessary.

(The fact that she said she was quoting Billy Crystal in the movie “City Slickers” didn’t help either)

I wanted things to work out the way I planned. But it didn’t.

Now, I can’t imagine things being any different than the way they are. I can’t say I ever wanted kids, but I quickly changed my mind when they arrived. They are all the difficulty I imagined, but I didn’t factor the joy. The joy makes the difficulty seem trivial.

I didn’t want a wife that could think on her own and argue with me (although that’s not really the fun part), but I wouldn’t want it any other way with anyone else. I can't believe my fortune.

I did, however, always want a different mother-in-law. And I got a great one.

So to all the women in my life: Mom, Edna Lou, Gracie and especially Holliday…thanks…Happy Valentine’s Day.

The “do-over” has worked out great.

Legal Services...

There is a great difficulty in obtaining inexpensive legal services and documents. I hope this will help. If you use this, send me a dollar to cover my expenses...

PERSONAL SERVICES AGREEMENT

BETWEEN Mr. ___________________ (hereafter known as “THE GUY ABOUT TO SNAP AND PUNCH YOU IN THE MOUTH”) AND Mr. _______________ (hereafter known as “THE SELF-CENTERED MORON”)

THIS AGREEMENT is made and entered into as of the date of the last signature affixed below by and between THE GUY ABOUT TO SNAP AND PUNCH YOU IN THE MOUTH and THE SELF-CENTERED MORON.

THE GUY ABOUT TO SNAP AND PUNCH YOU IN THE MOUTH, in the exercise of his duties, has determined that the demands of THE SELF-CENTERED MORON are excessive.

THE GUY ABOUT TO SNAP AND PUNCH YOU IN THE MOUTH has concluded that the threat of THE SELF-CENTERED MORON to never return (unless he is allowed to act like a spoiled child) is a satisfactory agreement to which he is willing to enter into.

The parties mutually agree as follows:
1. The GUY ABOUT TO SNAP AND PUNCH YOU IN THE MOUTH will not bend to the ridiculous demands of THE SELF-CENTERED MORON.
2. THE SELF-CENTERED MORON will never again come back to THE GUY ABOUT TO SNAP AND PUNCH YOU IN THE MOUTH’s place of business.
3. This agreement could be altered by mutual agreement of both parties.

Entered into on this _______ day of _________, 2008.

THE GUY ABOUT TO SNAP AND PUNCH YOU IN THE MOUTH

____________________________________

THE SELF-CENTERED MORON

_____________________________________

Look for more Legal Templates in the coming weeks…

An inconveniently timed truth...

R. Timothy Patterson, professor of geology and director of the Ottawa-Carleton Geoscience Center of Canada's Carleton University, says, "By 2020, the sun will be starting into its weakest Schwabe cycle of the past two centuries, likely leading to unusually cool conditions on Earth."

For more: http://www.iceagenow.com/Scientists_worried_about_new_ice_age.htm

The time is now, my friends. Unless we act now, we will certainly freeze to death. You can do your part by doing the following on a regular basis:

· STOP re-cycling glass bottles, jars, newspapers and magazines and tin cans. Just throw them away
· DO NOT re-use plastic shopping bags and envelopes
· GET RID of the compost heap. Ugh. What were you thinking?
· FLUSH the toilet for no reason. Often.
· USE TWICE AS MUCH TOILET PAPER AS YOU NEED. At least two plys between your fingers and the “to be wiped area.”
· ALWAYS fill the kettle up with twice the amount of water you need to boil that time
· LEAVE the TV or video ON at all times
· NEVER CAR POOL. Tell your friends to get their own SUV.
· WASH EVERYTHING IN HOT WATER
· LEAVE ALL THE LIGHTS ON AT ALL TIMES
· FLY instead of drive. DRIVE instead of walk. If you have nothing else to do, spray an aerosol can into the sky.

If we all work together, we can save the planet.

I even took a nap yesterday...

Holli and the kids have been gone for a few days. I’ve stayed out late, I’ve slept in the middle of the king-sized bed, I’ve left the toilet seat up, I’ve played golf everyday, I’ve been to poker, the casino and out to eat every night.

No one has asked me to get anyone up or ready for bed. I’ve been on my own.

I’ve eaten whatever I wanted to, whenever I wanted to. I’ve owned the remote. I’ve played the stereo loud.

I’ve been the king of my castle.

I can’t wait for them to come back.

Wife left for a few days...RESTRAINING ORDER FILED...

DECLARATION OF Mr. ______________'s DIGESTIVE SYSTEM:

We, the digestive system of Mr. ____________ file request for this action. We have personal knowledge of the facts set forth in this declaration and can testify competently thereto.

The abuse Mr. _____________ has placed upon us in the recent days requires immediate restraint and must desist.

On February 6, 2008, Mr. ____________ ate nothing but Pizza and drank nothing but beer for dinner. On his pizza, he put an inappropriate amount of hot pepper flakes.

On February 7, 2008, Mr. ___________ drank nothing but Cayenne Lemonade and beer. He ate nothing other than rice for lunch and hot bratwurst for dinner. At Poker later that night, he ate two more bratwurst at the house of a friend, causing undue stress.

In light of this, we request the following:

By this action, Mr. _________ is mandated to stay at least 50 feet from anything with a sausage casing for a period of not less than 14 days. He must eat vegetables. He must drink at least 64 ounces of water (without Cayenne Pepper in it) per day.

Breach of this action will cause backlash even more catastrophic than the events of the morning of February 8, 2008, where Mr. ___________ was heard to promise a reformation in dietary habits while doubled over in pain and under extreme duress.

However, we have heard this one before.

We declare under penalty of perjury that the foregoing is true and correct. Executed on February 8, 2008.

I can't shake the idea that these people are evil...

When I was a kid, there was a kid down the street that seemed to be bulletproof. Nothing he ever did ever got him in trouble. His parents and their contacts bailed him out of everything.

The worst of his transgressions (that I knew of) was the night he drove through town at about 60 mph, ran four red lights and led the cops on a 10 mile chase before his crashed. Did I mention he was drunk?

He didn’t even lose his license. His pattern continued until I lost touch with him in the late 80’s.

He did whatever he wanted and lied his way out of it. He had no conscience and didn’t really ever pay any consequences. He sobered up long enough to get out of trouble and that was it. The truth was as he saw it. If you were in his way, he just ran you over. I stayed away from him as much as I could. He was vindictive and had no regard for the law.

I can’t tell him and the Clintons apart.

People are getting older and dumber.

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers played the other night at halftime of the Super Bowl. I listened to him when I was a kid. He’s still out there, playing “American Girl”, “Refugee” and “Free Falling.” Back in the 80’s or so, when these songs came on the radio, I sang my lungs out. The lyrics were important…now they seem utterly ridiculous.

I moved on, why didn’t he?

As a teenager, I trusted that my boss at Burger King was a wise old soul in the area of not only fast food, but life. Certainly he had done something spectacular that had elevated him to the position of assistant night manager. They didn’t just hand those jobs out to anyone.

Years later I realize he was just a dumbass college student with a drinking problem.

He used to talk about “getting hit with the big stick,” which is the point in your life where innocence passes and you realize life is hard. Looking back, I don’t know what he could have been referring to. Maybe when Old Milwaukee’s Best Light when from $1.50 to $1.75 a six-pack.

By age 40, I thought I’d have it a little more together. But as I look around, neither does anyone else.

Is this what a mid-life crisis looks like?

Choose your own title…list at bottom…

My gender prevents me understanding this subject, I’m told. To be honest I probably don’t. To also be honest, I don’t think they understand either.

I can’t think of a correlating hardship for men. It dominates. Again, I don’t understand. I know I don’t. Really.

Because of it, I’ve seen Baklava fly faster than the speed of sound. And it was my fault. I’m not being sarcastic.

Drugs don’t help. I’ve taken everything I could get my hands on. You just have to grin, keep one eye open at all times, and bear it.

On the other hand, the National Hockey League is missing out on a great marketing campaign for their television broadcasts.

ANNOUNCERS VOICE: “Tonight’s second period is brought to you by Tampax!”

Actually, I don’t know how the NHL functions. They have three of them PER GAME.

I know…I don’t understand.

Titles considered for this post:
Well, I understand how I feel about it…
We can land a man on the moon, but we can’t fix this…
Old King Cole was a Merry Old Soul only about three weeks a month…
How to alienate half the population…
and/or
Why (some people say) you shouldn’t vote for Hillary…

I can't figure out if I'm organized or not...

My wife ordered a book from Amazon.

It’s called:
“Sink Reflections: Overwhelmed? Disorganized? Living in Chaos? The Fly Lady's Simple FLYing Lessons Will Show You How to Get Your Home and Your Life in Order--and It All Starts with Shining Your Sink!"

My first reaction is if the woman who wrote the book was organized, the title of the book would be shorter.

I seemed to remember seeing this book around the house at one point. It amused me to think that Holli was ordering it for the second time.

When I mentioned it to her (the fact that it was ironic she had to order another copy) she said she was buying it for a friend.

That makes sense. If her friend was organized, she'd probably order it herself. But I guess she wouldn't have to...it's quite a catch-22.

Maybe the test of whether you are organized is if you can find time to purchase it. If you actually read it, bonus points. And if you know where it is after you haven't looked at it for a while...you don't need it anymore.

Right now, Holli knows where two copies of the book are. This means she passes the test.

I think it rented for $150 a month...inc. utilities...

I’ve seen most of the Super Bowls. From the day the Dolphins beat the Redskins in 72 or 73, I’ve a memory of all of them. Except one.

The night before the Super Bowl of 1987, the phone rang in my trailer.

“Is Mike there?” his girlfriend asked.

“No, I haven’t seen him,” I replied. Just then the door opened and in walked Mike with another girl. Now, I was only 19 at the time, but I wasn’t stupid. Well, I was discreet, anyway. I stayed silent.

“Well, if you see him, let me know…I think he is out with another girl,” she said with a hint of panic in her voice.

“Well, I haven’t seen him,” I quickly lied and hung up.

After a few minutes of conversation, Mike and his replacement girlfriend for the evening left to go out. It was about 2 am. I noticed it had started snowing before I fell asleep on the couch.

That next morning, I had an early shift at the radio station (it was Sunday) and on my way in to town, the streets were deserted and covered with snow. About six blocks from the trailer, I saw a car that looked like Mike’s in the ditch.

I got to the station, put on the Sunday Morning programming (reel to reel) and laid down on the floor to get some sleep.

(On Sunday, I always brought a blanket, a pillow, and an alarm clock to wake me up for each half hour commercial break. To stay awake ALL THE TIME, I needed more than $3.25 an hour)

About 7:15 am, the phone rang at the station and woke me up. This time it was the police. They got to the point rather quickly.

“We have Mike ________ in our custody. He has been booked for driving under the influence of alcohol. Are you willing to insure that he will appear in court to answer the charges?”

Mike had gotten only five minutes into his plan to cheat on his girlfriend when he slid into the ditch. The cops stopped by to help and discovered a drunken Mike. Alone. Evidently, his clandestine date judged men based on their driving skills and had abandoned him.

Now, of course, Mike feels bad. And when his girlfriend picks him up at the jail, he spills the beans. Everything. Even the part about me knowing where he was and who he was with…

Now she is mad at me and unbelievably, he is too. I should have stopped him from driving drunk and whatever else he had planned.

(This was BEFORE the “Friends Don’t Let Friends Drive Drunk or Cheat on Their Girlfriends” campaign…how was I to know?)

I’d been awake for about 40 of the last 44 hours when the Super Bowl came on. I fell asleep during the introductions and woke up the next morning. It’s possible the pitcher of Kamikazes I drank had something to do with it too, but I’m not sure. I also ate 8 hard boiled eggs. This is the subject of another miracle that I don’t think I need to explain.

Giants 39, Broncos 20...I think.

If there is beer there...it'll be cold...

Read it like Don Pardo...

From the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob comes something that has been sought for centuries…Ponce de Leon and King Arthur couldn’t find it. Indiana Jones and his dad found it, but then the movie ended and they haven’t been seen since. What is it you ask? It’s Eternal Life!

With the new Eternal Life Kit from God, you too can live for forever. And not just here but in Heaven, where the streets are gold and the beer is cold.

What, you ask, Do I need to do? Well, not much. Before the birth of Christ, eternal life was tough. You needed lambs and goats and to go to Jerusalem each year. Also, you needed to be Jewish, for the most part. And if you were a man, well, eight days in you might have wondered what you got yourself into.

But now, with the death of Christ on the Cross and his subsequent resurrection the price has been paid. It’s absolutely free!

To order, just stop trying to do it yourself, admit you are a sinner and accept the gift that has been given to all who will receive it. There will be no bills to pay, no further obligation. That’s right, you don’t have to change a thing. Drink, dance, play cards…it’s all allowed!

Christ paid the price. So what are you waiting for?