Busted in the Panhandle

On Saturday, my wife and I decided to replace our "PC Road Trip" Geocache at a local park. The old cache was a combination sudoku puzzle / driving trip around Panama City, and it hasn't exactly been a hotbed of activity. We also received a recent comment that the puzzles were gone, and the cache container was wet. So, we decided to do some re-vamping.

Due to the high cost of gas, we scrapped the whole 'road trip' idea, and instead settled on a 3-stage multi-cache (each destination gives you the coords to the next stage). We took the ammo cans home to be cleaned and dried out.

At this same time, Tropical Storm Fay was beginning to move into the area. Premium Geocaching members always get an email as soon as a new cache is placed, and they race to see who can be the "first to find". Knowing this, we thought it would be a great idea to place the cache ASAP, and try to get it published before the storm left the area (each cache has to be approved by an independant reviewer). That way, the FTF winner would get drenched! We aren't premium members (it costs $30.00 per year) and we thought it would be a good way to torture them a little bit. All in fun, of course. This was around 9:00 pm. So, we updated the swag in the ammo can, grabbed some hide-a-key containers for the first two stages, and headed to the park.

It was already drizzling, so when we got to the park I opted not to park in the lot, but off the road in between some bushes instead. That way we would be closer to the final stage, and I wouldn't have to carry the container as far. We hopped out of the car with our umbrella, flashlight, ammo can and hide-a-keys. We got about 10 feet before we saw another car pull into the park. And stop behind our car. We pretended not to notice, and then the whole area was flooded with a spotlight. We still continued walking, though we both knew that a cop had totally busted us. We agreed to keep walking and pretend we didn't notice him, and for the love of Pete DON'T TURN AROUND. I was expecting to hear a "Halt!" over the loudspeaker any moment, but it never came.

We agreed not to attempt to place the cache in the wooded area nearby (that would look too suspicious) so we just walked on. No plan. No idea what to do. Just keep waling. We walked around the baseball field and could still see the cop sitting there with his spotlight on our car. We decided to stash the ammo can because it would be difficult enough to diffuse the situation without holding a camoflauged box that looked an awful lot like a bomb. We also had no official Geocaching paraphanelia, no GPS unit, and we knew it would be difficult to explain the whole Geocaching idea. So we stashed the box under a bench and continued walking.

By this time, we were pretty wet and we had reached the opposite end of the park, so we started back. We could still see the cop's light on our car. He wasn't leaving. My wife wanted to go back and try to prevent him from writing us a ticket, and I agreed. Okay. Now it's time to get our stories straight.

We settled on this: "We were out for a walk, and didn't want to park in the parking lot because it looked muddy. Now that the rain had started falling harder, we decided to leave. We didn't notice the cop car or the spotlight." Lame, I know. But it was the best we could do on short notice. And it took us a while...we were almost back and I distinctly remember saying, "What are we doing out here? What are we going to say?" We were cutting across the grass now, headed directly toward our car. There were some bushes blocking the cop, so we couldn't see what he was doing.

A few paces later, my wife noticed the blue lights were on. Great. OK. Here we go. Show time!

We cautiously stepped out from behind the bushes. My wife was like, "Hello?" No answer. "Hello?" She wanted to make sure he knew we were approaching so there wouldn't be some kind of awful shootout. Well, we weren't carrying guns, so I guess it would be a shooting, not a shootout. Anywho, I realized what she was doing, and in the same moment also noted that I was still holding the thick Maglite Flashlight. I raised both arms slowly and walked forward.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he stepped out of the car. "Is this your car?" Yes, we said. Are you the registered owner? Yes, I said. I handed him my driver's license. We soon heard over the radio "Silver 2004 Ford Focus registerd to..." and then my wife's name. Oops. Oh well, show him your ID, honey.

She didn't have it. We hastily rattled off the story, and I interjected with, "it's such a cool night, y'know, not like the hot ones we've been having". Yeah, that'll convince him. He eyeballed us for a moment, then asked why we didn't park in the lot. "Oh, it looks muddy", I told him. He looked at the soggy ground where we were parked, and said, "It's pretty muddy here." I pretended to notice for the first time...oh, yeah. Hmm.

Then he told us that sometimes "not-so-nice" people park in these same bushes and do drug deals and stuff. I'm thinking, 'we've got drug dealers in the neighborhood? Great. ' Anyway, he told us to park in the lot next time, and we wholeheartedly agreed. Then we both got in our car and waited. He turned off the blue lights, then the spotlight, and left. Whew! That was a close one.

But the cache still needed to be placed. We drove the car over to the lot, and discussed what to do. It was decided that we would both walk to stage 2 and place the hide-a-key. Then, my wife would return to the car, and I would continue to stage 1, place the hide-a-key, pick up the container and go into the woods to hide it. This seemed like a good idea in theory, but upon execution it contained a couple of flaws. First, my wife was left in the car all alone - what if the cop came back with more quesitons? Second, I would have to walk the ammo can under some streetlights near the road to get it back to the right side of the park. Third, we didn't get our stories straight before we seperated.

As I walked, it started raining harder. I placed the hide-a-key, and picked up the ammo box. My story was going to be that my doctor told me I had to walk twice as far as my wife, so that's why I was walking alone. In the dark. In the rain. Carrying a bomb.

Unbeknownst to me, my wife was facing the same dilemma, but came up with a more convincing story - I went off to look for something that I thought I lost while we were walking the first time. That was good. Way better than mine!

Luckily, we didn't need it. The cop didn't come back, we didn't get hauled off to City Hall (which was like 2 blocks away), we didn't get seperated and questioned individually, so no one found out that our stories didn't match.

After I left the woods, I could barely see. My glasses were all wet and there was no way for me to dry them. But when I got to the parking lot I could make out a person running at me - my wife. We embraced, and she told me she was glad nothing happened to me. We got in the car and headed home to dry off.

Our cache was published the next morning, and some brave premium members found it. Coincidentally, the rain wasn't that bad, and they didn't get very wet. Well, that's karma for you.

I love Geocaching.

The Plastic Trinity

Recently, I was getting out a sandwich bag while making my lunch in the morning. What I found in the box was something unexpected, something wild, something definitely out of the ordinary!

No camera tricks! No superglue! You are seeing these bags in the same state that I pulled them from the box. Now, I understand that sometimes things go wrong at the plant, and two bags get fused together. No big deal. Whatever. But this is WAY different! I'm talking about three bags all sharing a common corner...it's outrageous! I was thinking about selling them on Ebay to some freak collector, but decided instead to split them up and sell them individually. I've always heard that rare stuff is more valuable this way.

Something else ocurred to me while I was looking at these pictures...why is my skin purple?!?! I'm like a freak of nature or something! Maybe I should sell myself on Ebay. Bidding starts at US $1.00!!

Raiding the Office Stash

My company is currently going through some serious cost-savings initiatives. For instance, instead of ordering more Post-Its, they've put a box in the copy room to collect discarded paper. This paper will be cut-up and given to employees to use in place of Post-Its. I said, "In that case, we're going to need a whole lot more Scotch Tape!"

One of the other initiatives includes consolidating all supplies into an old manager's office who was "encouraged to pursue other endeavors". We're supposed to take any unused supplies to this "stockpile" where they can be monitored and distributed. This is not only beneficial for the company, but also for me! We're still in the collection phase, so today I snuck into the room and found a 100-count box of large paperclips and a ruler with all the presidents' portraits. Later, I went on a second run and guess what I found? Thirteen packs of Scotch Tape!! No lie. That stuff is worth it's weight in gold! I swiped three (one for each member of my team) and also a three-hole punch to replace the one they took out of my area.

Taking supplies from the "haves" and giving them to the "have-nots" kind of makes me feel like a modern-day Robin Hood. Or Zorro. Yeah, Zorro's much cooler because he has that "secret identity" appeal. I mean, you'd know Robin Hood as soon as you saw him. But Zorro puts on that black strip of fabric with two eye slits and no one can tell who he is (Kind of like Superman in reverse). Everyone's like, "I don't know where Don Diego de la Vega went, but here's Zorro! The workingman's friend, the defender of freedom, the distributor of justice."

Yeah, that's definitely me.

Random Acts of Patriotism

A few weeks ago, I went out to the parking lot after work and found this magnet on the back of my car. I don't have any idea how it got there, and I had to check several times to make sure I was looking at the right vehicle. Even after I unlocked the door, I was looking around the interior to make sure I was in my car. It was a little unnerving...I had the intense feeling like I was in someone else's space.

The magnet was definitely not new, and it was broken near the top. But it still functioned (obviously) and proudly declared its message, "God Bless America". I have to admit that it is one of the more attractive ribbon-style magnets I've seen. I've see a couple of crappy ones where the artist didn't understand perspective or exactly what a folded ribbon looks like.

Anyway, there are only two ways it could have gotten there: a) it fell off of somebody else's vehicle and a passerby put it on my car thinking it was mine, or b) someone took it off of their car and put it on mine on purpose (kind of like a "random act of patriotism"). The latter is definitely my favorite, so that's what I'm going with.

I left the magnet on the car for a couple of weeks, but then I decided it was time to move it along. Someone else deserves a parking lot freak out! So one night after work, I stuck it on someone else's car and took the picture below:

Hopefully the driver will enjoy spreading the message of patriotism for a few weeks before they "pay it forward" and move it along. Or it will end up in the trash. Either way, God Bless America!

Humorous note: Both Angela and I independently came up with the phrase "Random Acts of Patriotism". Talk about a perfect match!

The Great Toothpaste Ruse - The Sequel

I've been fooled again! Back in August, my wife pulled the old switcheroo on me and had me using the flat, stale toothpaste while she enjoyed the ample goodness of the fresh tube. I was fooled that time because she had pushed the box up against the electric toothbrush so I couldn't see that the flaps were open. (You can read that post by clicking here.)

Since this tube has been getting low, I've been keeping an eye on the new box, making sure it hasn't changed positions. And it hasn't. Finally, after a particularly grueling squeeze, I sarcastically asked my wife, "You're STILL using this old tube?"

"No", she replied.

Ha! I knew she was joking because the box hadn't been opened. I went back to the bathroom and started brushing. As I brushed, I started thinking. I looked at the box, and I could clearly see that it hadn't been opened. I continued brushing, and thinking, and thinking and brushing, and then - just to be sure - I picked up the box. And guess what I saw...

The box was opened! The flaps had been folded into the box so I couldn't see them. She had used visual perspective against me! The open end was out of my line of sight, and because I couldn't see the flaps, I assumed the box was closed on that end. Diabolical! Calculating! Genius!

I was both flabbergasted and impressed. She had done it again. When I looked out around the corner with the box in my hand, she started laughing. She thought I had already known, so that's why she was so truthful. What I believed to be sarcasm was actually truthfulness. Go figure!

Stay tuned for The Great Toothpaste Ruse III. I'm sure it will happen sometime around July. And I'll be ready! Remember, all rules are off in the last installment of a trilogy...

The Great Wii Hunt (Cont'd)

Yesterday, I called a local Wal-Mart and found out that they had two Wiis that arrived at 10:45 that morning, but they had already been sold (I called at 12:10). The window of opportunity was only open for less than an hour and a half. What would I have to do? Call every hour? Stalk the UPS truck? I could spend my lunch breaks at Wal-Mart waiting for UPS to show up, but there was no guarantee that any Wiis would even be on the truck.

As I was contemplating the dire situation, I called the Chipley Wal-Mart (about 45 miles away). They also received two…and still had both of them in the store! I couldn’t believe my ears. I must have asked the guy four times to confirm. (“In stock?” “Yes.” “At the store now?” “Yes.” “Right now?” “Yes.” “Available for purchase?” “YES!”)

I called my mother-in-law, but she had an eye appointment and couldn’t leave for Chipley until after 1:00. I immediately went to my supervisor, and asked if I could take an extended lunch break. She was a little hesitant because the other team leader had called out, but when I explained about the Wii she understood (she also has a Wii). I promised that I would come back to work, so she said it would be fine. My wife called just then, so I updated her and I was out the door and on my way.

Man, talk about a nerve-wracking trip! The whole time I was wishing I could go faster, and wondering if the Wiis would still be there when I showed up. I kept thinking about that Chipley buttmunch on EBay with the pile’o’Wiis and I was sure he was going to beat me to the store. At the county line, the road switches from four-lane to two-lane, with 30 miles to go. It was raining and we were behind a truck, so passing was out of the option.

When I finally arrived in Chipley, after what seemed like hours, I found the Wal-Mart and parked the car. I suspected every person around me was here for the same purpose. As I walked in, I could see the electronics department, and saw several shoppers that were much closer than me. I was panicking! I walked calmly (though I wanted to run), and when I got to the video games section I didn’t see any Wiis. I asked one of the sales associates if they still had any Wiis in stock, and he wasn’t sure, so he asked another guy. This other guy seemed very entitled, and I suspect he secretly enjoyed the distorted sense of power that came with the question, and he toyed with me by saying, “Yeah, I think we might have one of them left.” Then he walked away. I didn’t know if he was going to look, or going on break, but I played it cool and forced myself to remain calm and to resist beating the other associate to a bloody pulp for not knowing, and not rushing to check.

After an eternity of staring at reduced videos, the entitled guy popped up from around a corner holding the Wii. I have to admit, I melted a little inside. I was gleaming. The search was over. I pulled out my credit card and made the purchase. Then I walked straight to the car and covered it up on the backseat with a blanket (to prevent theft, of course). Before I left Chipley, I found a phone, and called Angela to tell her the good news. It was pouring down rain, and there was no shelter over the phone, but I felt all sunny inside. I knew Angela was probably stressing out as much as I had been, and I was looking forward to ending her misery. Check out this email she sent me while I was on my way to Chipley:

I'm freaking out. WHY DON"T YOU HAVE A CELL PHONE?!?! I'm so excited and nervous and I wish you'd get back to work so I could find out. Dude! Hurry! I love you so much. You are my hero. I'll love you even more if you got one. I feel all tingly inside. Kinda like when I found out about the sharks. Hurry and call me.

Love, Angela

(The sharks comment is in reference to our upcoming Disney trip - she was scared and yet excited when she found out you can swim in an aquarium with sharks and other tropical fish at Typhoon Lagoon.) After I told her about finally getting the Wii, she sent this:

Thank you so much for calling me to tell me we got a Wii and also thanks for going and getting it. You rock! Thank Lisa for letting you go. We are so getting Wii crazy tonight! Awesome! We have to go to Best Buy after work tonight to buy Wii Play and maybe another nunchuck. Anything else you wanna get now?

I'm so happy. I'm doing the Wii dance.

Seriously,
Thank you!

I jumped back in the car, and headed back to town (and work). The rest of the day went by pretty fast, and we were home setting up the Wii in no time.

Even though we only spent a few days looking, the stress and despair were starting to take their toll. But now the maddening search has come to a close. And what a relief it is! I know what's going to happen, though. We're going to accidentally start finding Wiis everywhere we go!

Oh, and by the way, we did get Wii crazy last night. It was awesome. You should totally get one!

The Great Wii Hunt

My wife and I recently decided to get a Wii. My parents got one for Christmas, and we’ve been over at their house playing it and waiting for the novelty to wear off. And guess what? It didn’t.

So when we found out we’d be getting a nice little chunk back on our taxes (we switched to the “married filing at single rate” payroll deduction option) we decided to get one. Well, it’s not like you can just run down to Wal-Mart and pick one up. We’ve been casually looking for about a month, but we’ve never spotted one.

On Friday, we started the aggressive searching. Of course, everywhere we went was sold out: Target, Best Buy, Wal-Mart.

On Saturday, we expanded the search by turning to the phone. Some of the replies were less than energetic, and I had severe doubts that some agents were even looking. So, we used a two-pronged attack: we called, we drove, we called as we drove. Still, nothing. Though we did start putting some pieces together: Wiis arrive via UPS, not the regular store delivery trucks (this was confirmed by a couple of different retailers). I found out that UPS usually delivers to Wal-Mart late in the morning, around 11 or 12. This was a big relief – I was glad to hear that going to a store at 7am wouldn’t help.

On Sunday, we started enlisting the help of family and friends. We asked those close to us to keep their eyes peeled and their ears open. If they heard or saw anything Wii, they should notify us immediately. We continued the fruitless search online, but found nothing at the major retailers – all were SOLD OUT. We found a couple of package deals at EBGames.com, but we would end up paying around $475 and we’d get some games and accessories that we weren’t really sure we wanted or needed. Plus, the orders wouldn’t ship until 11 days later. EBay was no help at all. The Wii consoles alone were “buy it now” priced at $400. And some idiot was out there buying them all up on the live auctions with X***X profiles that were created two days ago (X being a random number or letter). We even tried searching EBay for nearby locations (to save on shipping) and found some creep in Chipley who had a sickening picture of a number of consoles all stacked up against a wall. He was selling bundles for some ridiculous amount. Cleary, a few “enterprising” morons are buying all the available stock online and in the stores to increase demand and garner a hefty markup.

By this time, the phone list had expanded to include Sears, K-Mart, FYE, and other lesser-known retailers. Still no luck.

On Monday, we found some Wii-tracking websites (like this one, or this one) that monitor online availability. We found out that UPS was delivering on the holiday, so we made another round of calls. Net result – nothing.

Today we had to go back to work. I’ll continue the search at lunch break.

Today I’m a Democrat

Okay, so this isn’t one of those self-indulging political blogs, but I feel obligated to tell my readers that I am now a bleeding-heart liberal. And so is my wife.

I recently received a “Rock-the-Vote” address verification form in the mail because I guess some computer finally figured out that I lived in one precinct but was registered to vote in another. Anyway, I took the opportunity to not only update my address, but change my party affiliation. Afterwards, I took Angela by the Supervisor of Elections’ office and she changed to the big D as well. Do I get some sort of conversion bonus for her? There should be a bonus.

Now hold on a minute - this isn’t due to any kind of recent soul-searching, or some ridiculous anti-war protest thing. I’ve made no mass-reorganization of my ethics or value systems. I don’t like blue better than red, and elephants are still way cooler than donkeys. So before the Democratic Party starts reveling in their victory of my conversion, let me make the reason clear.

In Florida, you can only vote in your own party’s primary. And point blank, the Democratic Primary will be more exciting and more relevant than the Republican Primary. And I definitely plan on switching back to Republican after the primary. I’m not a straight party-line voter, but I do tend to agree with Republicans on the majority of issues.

Just to be clear, here’s my stance on the big ones:
Abortion – Against
Gun Control – Against
Extended Welfare Programs – Against
God in Public Schools – For
Death Penalty – For
Gay Rights – For (Yeah, I know it’s out of sync)
Environmentalism – For (OK, this one, too)
Global Corporations – For
Steaks – For

Why are steaks on the list? ‘Cuz I always think of Liberals as eating home-grown vegetables and tofu and stuff. Just want to set the record straight. But, for now, I’m a Democrat. Lovely.

Okay, that’s enough politics. Here’s something a little more fun:

The Toothpaste Ruse

See the flat toothpaste tube in the foreground? That's MY toothpaste. I say it like that because, unbeknownst to me, my wife broke into the new tube already and has been using it in secret!

Apparently, she's been using the nice, full tube (probably squeezing it lazily from the middle) while I've been cramping my hands up trying to coax the last few drops of watery goo from the old tube. Each morning, when I see that flattened tube still sitting beside the sink, I think, "Well, she brushed her teeth already, so there must still be some toothpaste left in it." Then I start squeezing and twisting like a madman to get it out.

Today, she walked into the bathroom and said, "Really? You're still using this old thing?" And I'm like, "Yeah...aren't you?" And she's like, "No. I haven't been using it since Monday. I just wanted to see how long you would keep using it!"

She then confessed that on Monday she broke into the new tube, and each morning when she's done she puts it back in the box and sets it against her electric toothbrush so you can't tell the box is open (see photo above). Talk about evil. Talk about diabolical. Talk about...clever!

I have to admit, it's pretty funny, and it was a great experiment. I don't know how long I would have continued to use that thing! I'm just glad I got to use the new tube this morning. I got a nice, full dollop, and it tasted much better!

In the end, I'm glad I have a scheming wife. Wait...that didn't sound quite right. What I'm happy about is having a wife who's interesting and unpredictable. She definitely keeps life interesting!

Can I Have Your Attention...PLEASE!

Okay, let's be serious for a minute. NO ONE is reading my blog. Oh, it's nothing to cry about...there's millions of users out here in the blogosphere, all screaming to be read.

So the way I see it, I have two options. I can be unique, and try to attract readers with useful content and witty banter, OR I can be like everyone else and spew out cliched fodder and tired pictures that have been floating around the internet for 10 years.

Naturally, I'll take the second option becuase I'm lazy...and apparently it works!

Okay! Let's get started. So, what do all the other blogs have that I don't?

Of coure! A picture of a bee beard!

But my picture isn't just one bee beard, it's 6 bee beards - becuase I'm an extreme blogger! Now I just have to sit back and wait for people to Google "bee beard" and then I'm in there like swimwear. Yeah!

"Sometimes my razor stings, but this is ridiculous!"

I'd like to welcome all the new readers to Planet Bizzle. I look forward to entertaining you with the same old garbage you see everywhere else. You may begin laughing, downloading, forwarding and (most importantly) bookmarking. . . . . . . . now!

To Do: Terrorize Employee

Today one of my analysts sent me an email with pictures attached of how people terrorize their drunk friends. You know, Saran Wrap-ping them to their beds, drawing all over their faces, etc. (I’m not going to bother posting the pictures, I’m sure you’ve seen them around - if not, you can do some quick searching and you’ll find them pretty easily.) In the email, my analyst made the mistake of saying, “…hope this doesn’t offend you.” HA! The plan was hatched as soon as I read those words.

First, I checked GroupWise to see if there were any company email addresses that auto-populate from “Human Resources”. There weren’t. Next, I created a new contact group called “Human Resources” with one member – myself. The beauty of GroupWise is that it only displays the common name, not the full email address. That would make the group look totally legitimate – and you wouldn’t be able to tell it was a group because GroupWise doesn’t show the members of the group, just the name.

I pulled up the original email, clicked on “forward message” and started typing my response. I had to make it look good. Then I entered the recipient as “Human Resources” (the group I had created) and carbon copied the analyst on the email. I hit “send” and waited for the fireworks. The analyst only sits two cubes away, so it wasn’t hard to keep my eye on her. She chuckled when she saw the GroupWise Notify pop-up, and then opened the email.

Now, this is what the email looked like to her:

From: BEN
To: Human Resources
Date: 7/17/2007 9:33:51 AM
Subject: Fwd: ??? [Offensive Email]

Please see below/attached for examples of abuse of the company email policy. I find this kind of thing to be offensive and insulting. I consider this to be a wicked, malicious personal affront, not to mention a textbook example of harssment.

Thank you,

Ben

The first thing she did was look at me funny. I was watching out of the corner of my eye, and it took all I had to keep it together. She turned back to her screen. Then she turned towards me and said, “Oh, nuh-uh. Ben, are you serious?” And I said, “Yes I’m serious. I’m sick of these kinds of things going around.” Then she looked back at her monitor. She turned back toward me and said, “Really?” And I followed up with, “Yes. I’m tired of it and it needs to stop.” After that, she just stared at her monitor for a while and started turning really pale.

I let her marinade in it for a few seconds before I realized I had to diffuse the situation quickly or she was going to pass out. Then I’d have to step over her body and delete the email before pounding on her chest.

I walked up behind her and started laughing, then explained the whole thing and told her it was all just a joke. She didn’t believe me at first, until I told her I created a phony group called “Human Resources”. She said she was relieved, and said she was almost on the verge of tears. I assured her that I would never turn any of them in for those kinds of abuse, ‘cuz they could nail me in a second…I mean c’mon – I’m blogging at work, for goodness sake!

Before you start feeling too sorry for her, you should know that she is one of those quick-thinking people that always seems to have a smart comment for anything you say to her. I told her it was payback for the last couple of weeks, and she admitted that I got her good. Now that it's later in the day, she actually thinks the whole thing is pretty funny.

I must have put on a good performance because she said my voice and tone were more convincing than the email. Dang! I knew I missed my calling…guess it’s time to update my resume on Monster to include “convincing office comedy in questionable taste”.

Ben Goes Hunting At A Friend's House

Saturday night, my wife and I were visiting at our friends’ house. They have an enormous weed / bush growing out from under their back porch so everybody went out back to look at it (not much to do in North Florida). I had already looked at the weed earlier that night, so I decided to use the bathroom while the others were outside.

The bathroom is at the back of the house, with a window that faces the backyard. I was smart enough to shut the miniblinds over the window before I “got down to business”. Well, everything was fine until I reached for the toilet paper. It wasn’t anywhere to be found. Not on the wall, not on the back of the toilet or beside it, not on a stand, not even on the washer or dryer that faced the toilet. I looked everywhere! I even looked for a new package that I could open to get some out – but nothing.

I decided I was making the search much too hard for myself, and the T.P. was probably in some obvious location that I was clearly overlooking. I started reasoning out the situation. “Let’s see…it’s nowhere visible, so it must be somewhere that isn’t visible.” But from my location, I couldn’t reach any cabinets or drawers. “OK, what if it had been all used up by the last person?” I looked in the trash can, but saw no evidence of an empty roll. Man! Where is it? I was starting to get desperate.

Then, it hit me. I had shut the blinds before sitting down. Maybe, just maybe, it was on the window sill. I figured, as crazy as it sounds, it’s the only place I hadn’t looked, or thought to look, because the window was behind me. I reached back, lifted up the blinds, and…there it was. Yes! Come to find out, the man of the house had botched the installation job, so the wife was insistent upon getting a stand. Unfortunately for me, the stand hadn’t been purchased yet.

At least now I know what to get them for Christmas.

My Big Mouth Cost Me $500!

Recently, I went to the dentist because I needed to get two fillings on the upper right side of my mouth. Dr. T started in, got the first one finished, and then discovered he couldn't do the second one because the tooth was too damaged. The tooth in question is called "No. 2". All four of my wisdom teeth have already been pulled (see previous post titled, "I've Only Got 28 Teeth Left!") so it's now the one that's farthest back.

The dentist told me I would need a root canal, followed by a buildup and then a crown. Since we were already 30 minutes into my 1-hour appointment, the dentist told me he would start and see how far he could get. He ground down the tooth, started (and finished) the root canal, and glued some sort of flat cap over the stub that was left (to protect the nerves). At one point, there was some sort of soldering-iron type instrument in my mouth...there was smoke coming out and everything, and the thing burned the inside of my cheek!

I made an appointment to come back two days later for the rest. In the meanwhile I found out the whole thing was going to cost me about $500. My wife said, "Why didn't you just have him pull it? If it's the one that's farthest back, you don't really need it." Brilliant idea. But that made a little too much sense for me.

When I got back to the dentist's office this morning, I asked him that same question. He said that for most people, he would just pull the tooth. Most people have smaller mouths, and he wouldn't be able get the right angle on the top teeth that were that far back. But I had such a nice, big mouth, he had easy access - which resulted in my root canal/crown combo. Sheesh! Me and my big mouth.

Oh, and by the way, I now only have 27 1/2 teeth left!

Accosted at EPCOT

Just before Christmas, my wife and I went to DisneyWorld for Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Party. It was a real blast! We visited all four parks in two days, finishing at Magic Kindom for the big party. They have special shows, a Christmas parade with Santa and they serve hot chocolate and cookies. It was great. All the parks, resorts and restaurants were decorated for Christmas, and we were able to visit all the attractions we were interested in seeing.

I even got to visit a particular character that I had never met before, and if luck serves me, will never meet again.

We were at Epcot, waiting for the next showing of “Honey, I Blew up the Audience” (a 3D interactive show). We were sitting outside of the theatre, watching the water spouts jump from pot to pot, and watching other guests interact with them. It was a sunny, picturesque day. There was a building nearby with a sign that declared, “Meet Figment” (the purple dragon from the “Journey Into Imagination” attraction). Apparently, no one was ‘Meeting Figment’ so he wandered outside to drum up some attention. No one was around, so he just looked pitiful – waving and motioning for people to come over. There were only a few of us who saw him. I waved, but the others were clearly ignoring him, so he went back inside.

I felt bad for the poor creature, so I tried to get Angela to go in with me. She clearly didn’t want to, despite my persistent nagging, so I went by myself. I took the PhotoPass card on the off chance that a photographer would be there to capture my magical moment. When I first entered, there was a small queue line made up of funhouse-type mirrors that distort your reflection. Then you come around a corner and BAM! There’s Figment.

He was overjoyed to see me, so I gave him the obligatory character hug, and noticed that he was holding on a little too long. I looked around at all three of his handlers, but no one had a camera. So I turned my attention back to the dragon. I gave him a high-five, and said things like, “Hey Figment”, “What’s up”, “Nice to see you” and “How’s it going?” but you can only talk to a silent character for so long before it gets awkward. (They’re not allowed to talk, you know.) It got awkward really fast. His handlers didn’t talk to me, they were just watching. They seemed nice enough…they were probably just trying to figure out what this 28-year old guy was doing with Figment.

Suddenly it became obvious to me that there was no easy exit to this dilemma. I wanted to leave, but Figment clearly didn’t want me to go. I briefly thought about retreating through the mirrored queue, but decided that would look really bad. There was actually a set of glass double doors opposite me, but one problem remained – Figment was blocking the way.

I know he saw me look desperately at the doors – I’m sure he decided at that moment that he wasn’t going to make it easy. I kept hoping someone else would come up behind me, and I could dart out when Figment greeted them, but no one else was fool enough to walk in.

I finally just turned my head and made for the door. Figment grabbed my hand and tried to shake it. I pulled away and pushed on the door…but it didn’t open.

I turned and looked at Figment. Even though his costume hadn’t changed from that same goofy look and broad smile, I could tell he was relishing this latest development. He stared at me for a split-second, just long enough for me to acknowledge that I was helpless, before he pushed a silver button on the wall. The doors slowly started to open…and I didn’t waste a second. As soon as I thought I could fit, I attempted to slide between the doors - a move that caused a real commotion. I felt like a trapped rat, and I had to get out!

Then, finally, I was outside in the sunshine again. I took off walking as fast as possible, and didn’t look back.

By the way, “Honey, I Blew up the Audience” is definitely worth skipping. It’s old, and the effects are a little out of whack – all you really get out of it is a headache. And while we’re on the subject, don’t ever sit in the front row for “Ellen’s Energy Adventure”. Though the ride itself is slow-moving, sitting in the front row and watching the 360° video/animatronic presentation will make you wicked sick. Trust me on this – go for the middle.

Oh yeah, and stay away from Figment!

The perpetrator, with another unsuspecting guest.

Craft Time With The Schmidts

Last weekend, my wife and I made some Christmas Light Balls. They seemed simple enough to make - just glue some cups together and stick lights in them. So we found some instructions on the internet (click here), and decided to go for it.

We started where anyone would start - Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, they were all sold out of clear punch cups. We did manage to get the lights, and went to the local Party Universe to get the cups. They did have cups, but they were $10 for 100! We wanted to make 4 balls, and the instructions told us we needed 50 cups per ball, so that worked out to $20 on cups. The project was starting to get expensive. We had thought about getting a glue gun, but the instructions mentioned you could also use a stapler. Seeing as how we had just spent the entire budget on cups, we decided to head home at that point.

When we got home, we were excited about getting started. We got out the electric drill, and began drilling holes in the bottom of the cups – well, we tried to. The problem was that the cups were too brittle, too thin…too expensive! They had no give. They didn’t bend, they cracked like glass. Every one we attempted to drill into cracked and became unusable. When I tried to put a staple in one of them, it split down the side. It was becoming very obvious that we were not going to be able to use our $20 cups.

We drove up to the Winn-Dixie and found some Solo cups, but they were bigger than we wanted. The instructions recommend that you use clear 9 oz punch glasses, but all they had at the store were frosted 12 oz cups. So, we bought a sleeve and took them home for testing. The drilling and stapling went much better, but because they were the wrong size, the ball was growing out of control. We used all 50 cups and only finished 1 side of the ball! At this point, we were desperate to see some results, so we put the purple lights into the cups and turned it on. It looked cool, but not awesome. We briefly considered hanging a half a ball on the side of the house, and then decided to go to the Publix across town and see what they had in the way of cups.

We were still bitter about spending the $20 on the first batch of cups, so we asked ourselves a question: “What do you do with 196 expensive punch glasses?”

Answer: “Return them!”

I was skeptical at first, but Angela convinced me. So we put all the expensive cups back into the package. Problem. The package with 96 cups was clearly shorter than the package that still had 100. So we opened the fresh pack, and moved 2 cups into the other. Then we put the twisty-ties back on, and they looked great! We were ready to hit the road. Again.

At Publix, we found exactly what we wanted! Clear, 9 oz Solo punch cups. We got 200 for about $8, and also decided to buy some red and green cups to make a festive, multi-color ball with white lights. Publix is near Party Universe, so I was able to return the cups (he, he) without incident. Angela waited in the car because one of her students worked there, and we didn’t want them to be able to identify us if the deal went sour.

When we got home, we went to work. Now that we had the right materials, the job went fast. Angela drilled the holes (it works best if you drill a stack of cups all at once) and then handed the cups to me. I stapled the cups together, and then Angela stuffed the lights into the cups. The tricky part is bending and manipulating the cups so they all fit together just right. After 2 or 3 balls, you definitely get the hang of it!

Staples were a good way to go, but sometimes they malfunction and you have to pull them back out. Angela had the hardest job, by far! You have to put two lights in each cup, and the holes aren’t quite big enough. This prevents the lights from slipping back out, but is a real headache for the person trying to get them in there in the first place. I should know - I did about 25 before I stopped!

We completed two balls on Friday (the blue one and the purple one), and made a red ball and a multicolored ball on Saturday. It was like a sweatshop! When we started to make the ball with the red and green cups, we noticed that those cups were more difficult to work with. They were harder to drill, and they split when you stapled them. We put some lights in them and decided they looked great, so we decided to get a glue gun and finish the project. We went to Wal-Mart, and found one for $1.67! Score! It’s tiny, but it did the job. The only problem is that you have to hold the cups together so the glue will set. You know the glue is done setting when the hot, burning sensation goes away (the cups are not insulated very well). I’m glad we took the extra time to do the red & green ball – it looks really cool.

So that was our fun, crafting adventure. My hands are still cramped from all the stapling and gluing, but you know what? Those light balls look good!

Kermit the Frog and Sesame Street’s Ernie Have the Same Voice!

No lie! I listened to some clips of both of them talking, and they have the exact same voice. I can’t believe I never noticed it before. Obviously, they are both visual characters, so you don’t need to hear their voices to recognize them. And when Ernie opens his mouth, you’re not thinking about Kermit (and vice versa) so you would probably never make the connection.

And I’m not just saying Jim Henson does the voices – I’m saying he uses the same voice for both characters. Think about it…imagine Ernie saying “Hiya, Bert. Whatchya doin’ with that newspaper, Bert? Are you reading it, Bert?” Now imagine Kermit saying, “Hi-ho, this is Kermit the Frog. We’ve got a very special production for you this evening.” SAME VOICE.

When I heard the voices on the radio together, I was blown away. Seriously! Now this is news!

It Happened One Morning on the Way to Work

Last Friday I forgot to “cook” breakfast before I left for work – which means I forgot to microwave a Jimmy Dean sausage, egg and cheese croissant breakfast sandwich. So on my way to work I stopped by a Burger King that sits off of Hwy 77 in a Winn-Dixie parking lot. Naturally, I ordered the Number 1 breakfast combo (sausage, egg and cheese croissant breakfast sandwich). It comes with little round hashbrowns and a Coke.

This particular Burger King is extremely fast in delivering orders, and I still had my change in my hand when the cashier handed me my bag. Well, trying to keep up the fast service, I set the bag onto the passenger seat and drove away. I saw that the traffic was really thick on the highway and knew it would be time-consuming to try and get across the opposite lanes, so I decided to take Hwy 390 as an alternate route.

To get to 390, I had to make a succession of left-hand turns around the Burger King and then maneuver through the Winn-Dixie parking lot. Keep in mind I have dollars and coins in my left hand, and a straw and napkins in my right hand, so don’t judge me when I tell you I was steering with my elbows. The first turn went okay, but I cut the second turn a little too sharp which sent the food bag careening onto its side, and I could hear “plop, plop, plop” as the hashbrowns began rolling out of the bag and onto the floorboard one by one.

I needed to regroup. I pulled into the nearest Winn-Dixie parking space and set the bag upright, saving about five hashbrowns. I calmly put my change into the tray, the bills in my wallet and the wallet into my pocket. I put the napkins into the glove box and put the straw into the drink. Now to clean up the spilled hashbrowns. I unlocked the passenger’s side door and went around to that side of the car. I opened the door and began collecting the hashbrowns.

This part is very critical - no hashbrown ever touched the pavement, or left my hand. In fact, I was picking them up with one hand and placing them into the other very discreetly and efficiently. Soon though, I realized there were gulls flocking all around me. Now, I’m no ornithological expert, but I honestly think these birds could smell the grease from the hashbrowns. They couldn’t have possibly seen the fried potatoes. I know for a fact that when I got out of the car, there weren’t any birds around. Then all of a sudden the sky went black. It’s like they could smell the hashbrowns from a distance - kind of like sharks smell blood in the water - and they reacted with the same voracity. It was like a feeding frenzy!

I had just finished picking up the mess when I heard the first “splat!” Then another, and then it sounded like it was slowly raining big, fat raindrops. Oh, yeah. You know what it was. The hungry, ravenous birds were bombarding me in anger! I’m sure the first few “bombs” were warning shots, but I saw the look in their eye, and they saw the fear in mine. I didn’t dare give in, or they would dive and possibly end up in the car. I carefully put the hashbrowns back into the bag (after emptying its remaining contents), and then made for the driver’s side door. As soon as I shut the passenger’s side door, the birds knew they weren’t getting anything, so they stopped with the niceties and came in for the kill. I had to dance around the car avoiding the aerial assault. I probably looked ridiculous, but I was trying to avoid getting hit. And they were laying it on thick.

I jumped into the driver’s seat and surveyed my clothes to make sure I didn’t get hit. I didn’t. Still not sure how I managed that - I’m not that great of a dancer. But the birds weren’t leaving. I started driving away. The birds followed me. Not wanting to show up to work with a flock of angry gulls in tow, I hatched a plan. There was a delivery truck unloading near the front doors of the Winn-Dixie, so I drove as close to it as possible. When I was right beside it, I tossed out one hashbrown and the birds took the bait. They dove for that piece of fried potato and every one of the nefarious creatures began fighting over it. I wipped around the back of the truck, and drove away as fast as I could using the truck as cover. The birds must have gotten confused, because they didn’t follow me.

Even after I was safely away from the store, I checked the rear-view mirror expecting to see a mad flock of gulls coming in low and fast. But, to my relief, they were nowhere to be found. I said a silent prayer of thanks, and continued on to work.

We're on National TV!!

Angela and I at a recent Florida State game - Angela's on the left, I'm on the right.

Saturday, 09-23-06, my wife and I went to Tallahassee and watched a Florida State game. It was against Rice University, and we completely stomped them. We bought our tickets online, so we got to choose where we sat. We found ROW 1 tickets in Section 14, which is right on the goal line. The reason that they were still available was because they were earmarked for Rice, but only a few of their fans felt like traveling all the way from Texas to watch them get beat.

So we were in the first row on the goal line. It was awesome! FSU won 55 - 7, so there were plenty of awesome plays. We got to see the Seminoles punch it into the end zone, and later run it in right along our sideline. We really had a great time. The Rice mascot (an owl named Sammy) kept taunting us, but I shook his hand as a sign of sportsmanship.

The game was nationally televised in front of millions of viewers on ESPN U, and being that we were on the goal line there were plenty of opportunities for us to be on camera. Plus, the Noles been having trouble with their running game, so this clip of Booker's breakout run was probably on SportsCenter--which makes me like, a D-list celebrity (think Carrot Top).

So the next time someone says, "Don't I know you from somewhere?" I can say, " Do you watch SportsCenter? Well then, yes, you do know me!"

Devil's Island

Devil's Island - you can see the dry tract of land to the right.

This past Saturday, I took a trip up to Washington County to do a little geocaching. Angela had to take a morning-long test for her teacher certification, so I picked a cache that she had no interest in hunting. This one was on an island in the middle of a sinkhole lake here in North Florida. Recent finders have noted that the lake is drying up, so you can walk to the island in ankle-deep water. Since we don’t own any kind of boat, now was the time to pick this one up.

I did some research in the days leading up to the excursion. I downloaded the waypoint into Google Earth, and mapped out the exact route I wanted to take. I zoomed in close enough to familiarize myself with all the associated road names, and approximate distances. I also printed out satellite maps of the area, just in case I got lost.

On Saturday morning, I loaded the coordinates into the GPS unit, and headed out at about 8:30. It had rained pretty hard on a couple of days previous, so I wore my swimming suit to be on the safe side. The drive through Bay County was nice, and I got a serene early-morning view of Deer Point Lake. I took Star Ave to Hwy 231, 231 to Titus Rd, Titus Rd to CR 2321, and 2321 to Hwy 77. Then it was supposed to be an easy jaunt up into Washington County and on to Dumajack Rd, just past CR 279.

Unfortunately, things didn’t quite go according to plan. For starters, it was a lot farther away than I had estimated. So, I was relaxing, listening to Car Talk, and cruising along. Apparently, I was too relaxed, as I flew right past 279 and Dumajack Rd. As I was zipping along, I noticed that the road was curvier than I thought it should be. And then I hit the city of Wausau, which I knew was way too far north. Wasn’t it? I got out my satellite map, but it’s really only a picture, not a navigational tool. Wausau isn’t a very big town, and I saw several things on the map right alongside the highway that could have been a small city…or a large farming compound...or a company corporate center...or a new subdivision. I decided to go with my gut and turn around. I did a 180° turn on the highway, and headed back in a southerly direction.

The road straightened out, and I was able to locate myself on the map. From there I was able to find Dumajack Rd pretty easily. Just for curiosity, I wanted to see how I was able to miss 279. I thought, “Maybe it was poorly marked or something.” Quite the contrary. Not only were there two big signs, there was also a flashing light! I cut another 180° turn, and headed back to Dumajack Rd.

Dumajack should have taken me all the way to Porter Lake Road. Unfortunately, it ended about a quarter of the way there. When I say end, I mean it came to a ‘T’ intersection with a road called “Deadening”. I consulted the satellite map, but I saw no such intersection. The roads were paved and worn, so I new they weren’t new. This is another problem with satellite maps. The perception from the air is totally different from the ground view, so what looks like a bend and merge translates to a T-intersection on the ground. It also doesn’t help that the map mislabeled Deadening Road, making it seem that Dumajack bends and continues on. All of this is in hindsight anyway, because at the time I was totally perplexed. So I took a look at the GPS and decided to head south, toward the lake. BTW, our GPS doesn’t show roads. It only shows major highways - which makes it useless for mapping. You can see the point, but not how to get there. :)

Of course as soon as I turned on to Deadening, it turned to clay. Now I was on a road that I didn’t think I was supposed to be on, and it was getting steeper, sandier, and a lot narrower. I went over this wooden “bridge” that was barely 10 feet wide. I twisted, I turned, I looked for any sign that I was going the right way, but found nothing. Everything looks like trees and sand from the air. Finally, I came to Porter Pond Rd. I was supposed to be looking for Porter Lake Rd, but as the roads were mislabeled before, I happily turned on this one heading south. Again, the road seemed to go on a lot longer than it was supposed to, and I thought I should have been at the water by now. So, I consulted the map once again. This time, it clearly showed both Porter Pond and Porter Lake roads, side by side, running parallel. I had turned too soon! I had to make another 180° turn. This one turned out to be a 7-point turn because the road was so narrow. Once I got back to Deadening, I turned right and, you guessed it, drove right past Porter Lake Road.

This one wasn’t my fault. It was labeled ‘Tom Johns Road’ or ‘Johnson Road’ or something like that. So, another chance to practice the 180° turn on a narrow clay road. (I’m quite good, now!)

This was the last leg of the trip, and I soon arrived at Tom Johns Boat Landing, on Porter Lake. I was the only one there, and it was a beautiful day. Of course, by now it was 10:30 and starting to get hot. After a brief pit stop (yes, there was a port-a-potty) and some pictures, I headed down to the lake.

The other cachers had been correct – there was a spongy tract of earth that stretched between the mainland and the island on the right side of the boat ramp, so I didn’t even have to get my feet wet. There was also a lot of water plants and driftwood still around, so it was kind of eerie…like being underwater with no water. Does that make any sense? As I walked down the boat launch I came across a scary-looking water snake that was holding completely still. He was probably mad because I scared his insect lunch away. I avoided him cautiously, and headed to the dry lakebed. I found a boat anchor and a fishing lure, both of which were beyond salvaging. I squished and squashed my way to the island, and crashed through the outer brush.

There were no trails on the island, so some light bushwacking was required. I used my bare shins to beat down the thorns and other brush, and cleaned out the spider webs with my face. This method was quite effective, so I continued using it.

The story of Devil’s island goes something like this:

“Local legend describes Devil's Island as the lair of a mysterious beast said to inhabit the local swamps, lakes and river flood plains. Since the early 1800's, this creature has been blamed for the disappearances of livestock and several small children. There have been recent sightings of a mysterious blue light on the East side of the island, generally only visible around midnight in the fall. Additionally, there have been rumors of occult ceremonies held on the island during Halloween.”

Well, I didn’t see anything at 10:30 on a bright, sunny summer morning, but I did hear a crunching sound like light footsteps in the woods. I knew there was nobody else around, so it must have been an animal. It always sounded about 40 – 50 feet away, and the brush was too thick to see anything. When I tried to get closer the footsteps would stop for a while, then resume – until they disappeared altogether and I didn’t hear them anymore.

After this brief side excursion, I continued on with the cache hunt. I was able to locate it with little trouble. The cords were pretty accurate, and the camouflage was weak. I left a plastic lizard and a carbiner key ring, and took a compass. I signed the log, and camouflaged the cache better than I had found it with moss and palm fronds and other nature trash. Then I headed back through the brush, across the lakebed and to the car. The snake hadn’t moved, and I’m sure he was glad to see me go. I bid farewell to Devil’s Island, and headed home.

The view from the boat ramp.

Blast Off!

On Saturday, my wife and I went geocaching on the beach. We found a couple of caches at Frank Brown Park, which is a huge sports complex on Panama City Beach. They have a big open field that RC plane enthusiasts use for flying. I thought it would be the perfect place to launch Renegade, a two-stage model rocket I got last year at Christmas.

I’ve never really been into model rockets, which is strange, because it’s a great hobby for me. I like building things, and it’s got elements of danger and excitement. I mean, we’re talking about launching bits of balsa wood and paper tubes over a thousand feet into the air! Yeah, baby! Renegade is a two-stage rocket that I had to build. I had to cut the fins from sheets of wood, and paint/glue everything. I haven’t had a chance to launch it yet, because you need a big field and very little wind.

So yesterday, my wife and I went to the field to launch Renegade. When we got there, the wind was a bit breezier than I would have liked. I decided to test the currents with Bandito II, a small, green rocket that goes up to about 750 feet. The name isn’t a clever Estes marketing device, it is actually the second Bandito rocket I’ve owned. I lost the first one in my neighborhood whilst launching it from a local park near my house. It drifted away over the trees, and we never found it again.

Bandito I...we miss you good buddy!

Since that time, we’ve started cutting holes in the parachutes for faster recovery. We actually discovered this tactic by accident. At first, I never put any recovery wadding into the rockets and one time I was launching Snapshot and the engine burned a hole into the parachute making it come down faster, with no added damage. We were like, “Awesome!”

I put Bandito II on the launcher, and counted down: 3….2….1….blast-off! It shot out of sight. The sky was very bright, and there were some scattered clouds which made it difficult to see. (Note to self: put sunglasses with rocket stuff) However, when the parachute came out, it became visible. Now, the breeze was blowing to the northeast, and we were like 500 yards away from the nearest trees. We watched it come down…and sail out of sight into the woods. Dag-nabbit!

We decided to scrub the Renegade launch, and shot off some smaller rockets. We only had 3 A3-4T engines, and we used one on Bandito II, so we had to make some choices. I selected Swift 220 II, and we also launched Sting Ray. Sting Ray is a pre-fab rocket we had purchased that morning, but I had to construct the Swift 220 II just like I had to build Renegade--only on a much smaller scale. You may have noticed the “II” in the rocket’s name. This first Swift 220 was painted yellow, and was lost on a former mission. It’s too small for a parachute or a streamer so it employs the “tumble down” recovery method. We saw it blast off, we watched the smoke trail…but that was all she wrote. I bought another one, painted it fluorescent orange for greater visibility, and christened it Swift 220 II.

We launched it and Sting Ray and were able to recover both of them - a phenomenal achievement! (Honestly, we didn’t see them come down, we just traversed the park until we found them.) We decided not to launch any of the larger rockets, for fear of losing them. So, we packed up and headed toward the woods to attempt to recover Bandito II.

The plan was for Angela to stay in the car with her seat reclined and the AC on, and I was to head into the woods on the recovery mission. (Hmmmm….I wonder if she knew something I didn’t.) Anyhow, the brush was very tall, and I searched for an opening, but could not locate a way in. I estimated that the rocket came down about 40 or 50 feet into the woods, so I attempted to stomp the brush down and carve out a path. Okay, so the “brush” consisted of thorns, saw palms, scrub bushes, rotten wood and more thorns. It was up to chest level, and it was like snow in that as you stepped on it, your foot would punch a hole and go all the way down to the ground. It was very difficult going. I was getting scratched up, and the brush was not letting up. I thought it would get easier as I got into the woods, but if anything, the brush got higher! There were some small trees that I held on to for balance, and after about 15 – 20 feet I realized I was on a fool’s errand and it wasn’t worth the $6 I paid for Bandito II. So I decided to abort.

Hah. I thought going back would be easier because I had already cleared a path. No such luck. There was no path, only more brush. I couldn’t even see the car. The thorns were rapped around my leg, and as I started to retrace my steps, more brush gave way, and I started to lose my balance. There’s nothing to hold on to, and you can’t move your legs ‘cuz of all the danged brush you’re standing in. So I started to grab at stuff, but it all gave way and I went crashing down. Backwards. Now imagine you’re standing on one side of a log, and someone pushes you over it. You end up on your back, but your feet are up on the log. Now imagine trying to stand up, and you’ll see my dilemma. I briefly contemplated yelling for help (I was unaware that Angela had the radio blasting), but decided to make one last attempt first.

I grabbed at some old roots, hoping they’d hold, and gave a mighty pull. Once I got my center of gravity back underneath my knees, I stood up. Victory! Mission accomplished! I plowed my way back through the brush, emerging as a sweating, bleeding mess.

I had escaped the woods.

Sadly, I could not say the same for Bandito II.