Maybe It's Time We Get Back

When I heard the other day on the radio that Pat's song Dixie Lullaby was categorized in the same genre as the old George Jones fav He Stopped Loving Her Today, it sparked several memories of my childhood and the songs my father used to play dashboard piano to when we were out together. Been thinking about it ever since. One song in particular is Luckenbach, Texas by Waylon Jennings. Some people say that country music will make you want to throw yourself screaming off a bridge, I think the opposite. If you examine the lyrics of this song, you will find that no matter what period of time we are in, the basic nature of this song is to reduce the clutter in our lives and get back to what is important. When you are paying attention, you will learn that even the most basic of things can change our lives entirely. In this case, a song. I wonder how many people can say that this particular song changed their life in such a manner that they became better parents, friends, and lovers because of a simple reduction in material status. This coming from a guy who fights the urge for material omnipotence daily. But, I am learning that with "stuff" comes the requirement to care for the "stuff." Which means more time spent focusing on the things that are not important. I know this, and until recently, didn't take it seriously. I'm having a May garage sale if anyone is interested.

One of the things I have also noticed is the changes that my honey is going through. She has done a fantastic job in her efforts to quit smoking and will succeed, especially if she can survive the day we had out with the kids yesterday and not smoke. I can't say that it has been fun, but things will even out shortly. She's also been focusing more on her health, which considering the things I do to myself, I had better get on the wagon with her or i'm going to get left behind. I'm proud of her, and whether she realizes it or not, she is practicing the very basics of the song mentioned above. I commend her.

Funny how this all ties in together, and what's even funnier is my ability to ramble on endlessly about the most obvious of things. However, if I didn't think that it was important for people to have an occassional reminder about the simplicity of solving huge problems in their lives, I wouldn't bring it up. This in fact is a reminder to myself that things in my own life could be just a bit easier with a few minor changes. A person like me can't live too long with much clutter. It's overstimulating and clouds my ability to process simple thoughts and ultimately leads to frustration.

I bought into the Mega Millions pool the other day at work. While the thought of having a few million bucks to take some worries away, the itenerary set forth upon that fateful day would be a simple one. Tina and I were talking about it in the car yesterday. She had a tight grip on her frying pan. I tried to keep the car moving so she couldn't "bong" me. Anyway, I used to think that having a mega-home of royal proportions would be cool, but now I think I would just rather have a regular house and lots of land. In a house so large that you have to use an intercom to call people for dinner, it would sort of take away the close knit-ness of my family unit. As much as I don't want to hear my kids sometimes, I want to be able to hear my kids, know what they are doing, and not have time to hide. In fact, I am beginning to wonder if the house we are in now is too big. Or at least the wrong design.

Well, let me wrap up my coffee induced wordsmithing by just saying this. I've learned a lot about myself over the last several months, and realize that many of the solutions to my problems are so simple that to ignore them would be profoundly stupid. This change won't happen overnight, but I will join the wife in our efforts to "get back to the basics of love."

Why We Hunt

As I write this, there is a group of people on the ground in Tanzania bound and determined to save threatened species of animals. This group, known as the World Wildlife Federation (WWF), works with several other groups of varying causes to teach bush tribes which animals should and should not be hunted due to their eminent extinction. I find this quite admirable. As a person who spends some of their time switching back and forth between hunting shows and Animal Planet, I sit squarely on the fence when the topic of animal conservation arises. Consider me the person who sits directly in line with the net on a tennis court watching and judging the "my way's" battle the "our way's." Ludicrous, really the handling of it all. Although, it is an important issue, this "animal rights" thingy that is seldom seen in the news unless someone screws up. On the subject of the WWF, this is one of the few mega-orgs on the left side of the list that acknowledges hunting as a viable means of sustainment and population control. Why? I guess the answer lies in your wallet. That's right, money. Often times the lack of it. You see, there are no grocery stores in the African wild, and deep bush tribes cannot rely on an embattled government to supply food. Besides, if anyone has respect for animals it is these people, at least in my eyes. These people care more about survival and living off the land than how much an armchair warrior back in civilization cares about the West African Wiggle Worm and its future in the world, or how cute it is. We could learn some things from these people who survive solely on self reliance and not a welfare check and some "gubment" cheese. In fact, as modern a culture as the western world is, there are still those who find it more beneficial to live off the land than rely on what is offered by someone else with an increasingly steep price tag. I personally commend those individuals for practicing self reliance in its purest form versus accepting what an omni-nosey government monitoring agency can offer in the way of our daily hormone injected processed bread. Who am I to say bad things though?...I go to the grocery just as much as everyone else.

Origins

As I mentioned before, there are people in this world that still rely solely on their ability to hunt and gather to prosper. If we were to go WAY back in time, pre-grocery store B.C., if you wanted live, you had to learn to grow it or kill it. Our very basic creation to some is based upon our evolution from apes. Apes aren't exactly vegetarians, and no organization whose mission is to transform the world into a head of lettuce is going to change it. Even if we took the religious theory of where we came from (**POOF**, what's this place?) you will find that God gave us animals to use and manage. So, we could say that we were denying our origins by choosing not to use animals for anything, period. I do not think I could live with that. Maybe it is because one of my other big complaints in life is people trying to screw with the natural order of things. Nasty, bloody wars have been fought over it and it is usually because of the thoughts of a few and the lack of education in others. Wouldn't it be grand if we were all equally as smart as one another? No, it wouldn't be. Mass hysteria. If we take away the people's right to decide what is the best sustenance for them and the best means to get it, then we have opened a huge can of West African Wiggle Worms when the basic survival tactics of people has been eliminated.

The Fallout of Banning Hunting

A world with too little or too many animals is a world I don't want to live in. I happen to love animals, or at least the theory of them. This is not to say that I would enjoy and accept being eaten by a bear because it was "natural," but I do believe they have a place in this world and we should manage them appropriately. Like all living things, they are beneficial to the environment in their own little way, and to eliminate them wholly on the basis of "because" is not sound thinking. Of course, neither is letting their populations grow to the point of being as common as people. This is the thinking though of some of the more extreme animal rights groups who want animals to be free, untouched, and unconsumable by man. The very thought of that happening frightens me. I can do nothing more than categorize these people as those with a "bambi complex." I wonder if Walt Disney was a psychic, and the OG of animal rights activists? Anyway, point being that no matter how much of an emotional, sympathetic argument that is laid out on the table, nobody has offered a viable solution other than death and consumption. At this point in time, the logistics involved with setting up a free animal society is none other than mind boggling. It is quite expensive to relocate an animal, even through volunteerism, and to do this on a mass scale would do some serious damage to Uncle Sam's pocketbook. The pocketbook that you and I fill, and when there isn't enough, he doesn't have to ask for more. Although he will just to be cordial. We could all expect to pay higher insurance bills to pay for damage caused by animals, and since the insurance company's way to make it back is to nickel and dime all of their customers, we would all be paying for it. Animals left unchecked would turn those nickels and dimes into fifties and hundreds, quickly. So we set up some preserves to contain the animals in, and do our best to practice "darted contraception." It's a good theory if you were only dealing with a small group of animals, but the shear magnitude of chemical birth control needed for all the animals that it would be required for is astronomical, and so is the cost, again paid for by you and I. Sure, there would be some feel good hollywood types that would throw some money in, but long term, you and I will pay for it. With Americans struggling every day to make ends meet, I do not want to be the one to tell them that they now have to pay for the guy in the pen, wrestling a deer, trying to put a Trojan on it to save a few bucks. As with any sort of change that involves taxes, you can bet that their will be other fallout from it also. If that person who is toeing the line of welfare is now pushed well over it because of some sympathetic argument fueled by a Bambi complex, you can bet that the anger from that person would surely send them skipping right on down to the welfare desk. Pride would be replaced by vendetta's aimed solely at the government. Again, on the scale that is the American population, this is ludicrous. You can also bet that when people's health begins failing because NOW you can no longer eat animals, those that choose not to chew down those expensive supplements will surely take advantage of some sort of governmental handout to bring themselves back to normalcy, and can go back to work, and be productive enough to keep the business on American soil. "Grow a garden" they say. Ever tried to grow a garden on the 5th floor of an apartment building? Not gonna happen. Now, while some of this may sound a little over the top, the truth is nobody in this country should rely on the government to come up with a viable financial solution for anything especially when it comes to basic sustenance per individual. To even ponder the idea is enough for me to vote for the other guy. So, the fallout of banning hunting and animal usage of any kind for consumption is nuclear. A tip though for those naysayers who still choose to be disbelievers: You don't tell me what I can and cannot eat, and I will do the same for you. If you don't personally like using animals for anything, then don't use animals for anything. All of this should be about personal choice. It is one of the many things this country is great for.

A Few Little Known Facts

1. Sportsmen spend $1.7 billion a year on licenses and a self imposed federal excise tax on the sale of sporting firearms and related equipment. ALL of this money goes into state budgets for conservation of animals, water, and habitat. It also covers the programs and salaries for those who are employed by these agencies.
2. If hunting and fishing were banned, you can bet this money would be coming out of the pockets of every individual in this country to pay for the management of wildlife preserves, parks, and rivers and lakes.
3. You cannot count of the HSUS or PETA to chip in this kind of money per year to fund these programs. If their goals are accomplished, they would soon go back to their salads and pat each other on the back. After all, the HSUS is solely a political action group. They run no shelters, and contribute no financial support to local shelters. Their sole goal is to ban the use of animals for food, clothing, whatever. PETA, well, they're just lunatics, and if you visit www.consumerfreedom.org you too can learn that they are in fact...nuttier than a squirrel turd.

Pork Chop Whitey

I spent a lot of time in the car today running various errands here and there. My XM radio always has a station for whichever mood I may be in, and today it was Bluesville Channel 74. Lots of good old blues by the legends John Lee Hooker, Mud Cat, Howlin' Wolf, Muddy Waters, etc. kept my spirits well in the very bottom of the deepest dumpster. Some say country music will make you want to throw yourself (screaming) off a cliff into a river filled with saltwater crocodiles, but the blues...damn those blues...will suck you in and spit you back out and leave you a gooey mess on the floor, sucking your thumb, calling for mommy. Of course to snap myself out of it (and pay attention to the road) I started thinking about Savannah, Charleston, and every other little backwater town along the southern east coast that I had visited and mingled in with the culture. Along with that I began to decide that I (we) need to make a trip one day and hit some of the big BLUES cities, and frequent some of the off the beaten path less touristy blues bars. I long to hear the strings being stretched in person, along with the sweet wail of the harmonica and the twinkling pounding of the piano keys.

Today, The Ninja is Restless

Today the Ninja in me is restless and wants to kick some ass. What a day. My better half is headed to Kuwait in November. The youngest in my brood is testing the patience. Some freak in a Honda with a coffee can tailpipe and loud stereo almost killed me on the way home. It was hotter than the devil's asshole out today. And many more things...But, I came home, cut the grass, and took a long hot shower. Now I feel better. I truly felt like stripping all of my clothes off, spiking my hair straight up, and dancing down the street playing an old school flute. Surely I would have been arrested though. Mad Sweeney (the original) would never have gotten away with that shit in Jersey.

Tommorrow will be a better day...I am sure of it. If not, somebody is going to meet the Ninja. Flying flips, twirls, tumbles, and cartwheels with a final landing smack to the forehead of the poor individual who chooses to test thy patience (the unrelated individual of course)....All that just to smack someone in the head? Seems like a waste of energy, but much more entertaining for other's who may be watching...

On Tour With My Wife

By Mad Sweeney

Everyone buckled in? Please keep your hands and feet in the vehicle until it comes to a complete stop.

First Stop: Day 1...First words were "fuck you" when all I did was say "Hi." Little did I know that on the day I met this battle hardened woman that I would marry her. Something sort of kinky went through my brain shortly after those words were said, and I became determined. Her previous victim was left wondering why she left him when truth was, it was obvious. Punch a bull in the nose, and you're gonna get the horns.

Second Stop: The Party...We actually carried out our first conversation at a party being held by a mutual friend, one that I didn't know at the time was mutual. A beer run later, we became friends and found that we enjoyed time spent together. I was young, bold, and truthfully, looking to get laid. Which I did, but she had other plans for me...Thankfully.

Third Stop: Dating...Throughout the time we were dating, we did as two people do that are dating. We tested the waters, we drank a lot, we argued a lot, we had lots of sex, we did dumb things together and to each other. We broke up, we got back together, we broke up, we got back together. Each and every single time we realized that we may not have lots in common, but we were better together than apart. We sickened everyone with our public mushiness. Then she had to leave. In an attempt to free herself from her previous victim, she had volunteered for a tour in Korea, well before she met me. The time had come to make a decision. I couldn't let her go without a guarantee that she would come back to me. I popped the question on a bench overlooking the Cooper River in Charleston. Turns out if I didn't, she was going to. We celebrated over drinks at The Griffon on Vendue Range Rd in Charleston, and in tradition, we found a spot on the wall and placed our $1 bill with our message to the world that we were getting married.
Fourth Stop: Marriage...Our ceremony was simple and easy. Keg of beer, a simple cake, some family, a few friends, and a drunken Notary. As easy as the ceremony was, there was nothing like seeing her come down the stairs in her dress. It is a day I will never forget, simply beautiful, and nothing has changed since then. It was a beautiful night. The next day we travelled to Asheville, NC for our honeymoon. It was the start of a marriage that is beautiful, challenging and hysterical.
Fifth Stop: Korea...Tough times that year apart brought. It was a real test of love to be apart for so long so shortly after getting married, but we did it. During the two times we saw each other that year, there were tons of good memories made. Memories I think of often. Everything from partying in South Korea, to being alone together on Jekyll Island in Georgia at that little bar that the cook kept letting us sample new recipes and drink free drinks because we were the only ones there. Good times. Plenty of good times in Korea also. She has always had the ability to find friends that are more than fun to hang around with, whereas I am more reserved and shy when it comes to meeting new people. There are more stories than I can physically type that came out of Korea.
Sixth Stop: Homecoming...The day she came home was a relief. I had missed her so much that holding her and kissing her lips felt better than the night that was to come...We began planning our future. I was happy that we were finally back together. The entire time we were apart was a test of sanity. The next few years we partied and enjoyed each other, immensely.
Seventh Stop: Kiddo's...When we decided to have children, it didn't come easy. We had our fair share of problems, if not more than. But it happened, and I tell you, that is the most beautiful time to see a woman. When our son's were born, I saw a side of her that was just icing on the cake. A beauty that was blinding if you stared too long. Sort of like looking straight into the sun. The birth of our children was a blessing, and though it took two, I give her all the credit for the creation of something equally as beautiful as she is...
Eighth Stop: Mood Changes and Medical Mysteries...When she was diagnosed with Post Partum Depression after the birth of our first child, I was more worried about her than I ever could be. The whole time through it, I thought of how difficult it was to make it through being apart for a year and realized that we could make it through this, and we did. With both children. As of late, a new problem is occurring that has me worried all over again and has a new set of challenges. She tries not to worry me, but I do, since she is the only thing that I can't live without other than our children. We can't live without those two little hellions. The medical mystery continues, but I know she will be here at least.
Ninth and not even close to the final stop: Life Goes On...I could not imagine a day going by that I did not get to see her or talk to her. She is the most precious, twisted, demented, hysterical, beautiful, challenging, thing that has ever taken an interest in me...And I love her for it..More than anything...

Goofingus Farfinkle and the Yard Gnomes

By Mad Sweeney

Sounds like a polka band, but there is actually a meaning to this title. In a recent discussion with a dear friend about writing about their own experiences and emotion, we came across the topic of writing from ones own persona, and not from someone elses. I concluded that there is no better writing than that of the personally tragic, as written in some of the best works in history. To feel true sorrow, one must experience it as a whole, and that includes the literary form, along with all of the general criteria. In a nutshell, published or not, ones thoughts should be taken from the brain and scribbled on paper, or some other form of media as there is no better way to see yourself than from the outside looking in. The pen gives you the power to have your own little "out of body" check-up without the general population thinking you are a nutball with little sprinkles on top. It's late, and my senses are failing me...There is some sort of meaning in this somewhere, i'm sure of it.

Goofingus Farfinkle and the Yard Gnomes are figments of my imagination and are prime examples of what one may actually see when not properly maintaing the mental status. Ms. Farfinkle originated in the discussion mentioned above prior to this blog, but only by surname, and was used to characterize a humerous remark made by the other half, often the better half, of the conversation. As for the the Yard Gnomes, as long as they are off somewhere else enforcing the Travelocity guarantee and not appearing from out of nowhere next to my chair, then I am good, and I will continue to keep myself in check using the pen. And various other medications...Goodnight

Springtime and Hoodlumism

By Mad Sweeney

Well, springtime is here and like the return of the weeds in my yard, the neighborhood "do nothings" have come out of hibernation and are out roaming. With this comes the onslaught of people causing problems, loud stereo's, loitering, trash, and just general stupid activity. I'm not talking kids either. Kids don't bother me. Grown adults that do nothing but sleep during the day, and roam around at night, can't be up to anything productive, and that bothers me. Not to mention everytime one passes in front of the house, my guard dogs go nutty.

As a boy growing up in a small (now huge) suburb of Ft. Worth, we lived in a culdesac that was relatively quiet. Each day after school we would do the things kids did back then, but under the watchful guidance of the neighborhood "evil eye." Also known as my father. As annoying as it was, I can now see why he was doing it, because I have become an "evil eye" myself and spend time watching from behind curtains. Over Christmas, the tree in our front room was perfect to capture any out of season hoodlumism that was occuring within sight, but that had to come down obviously and I had to fall back and practice my ninja skills without cover. More to follow....

Welcome

by Mad Sweeney

Welcome to my blog. Lots of (hopefully) entertaining stuff to be written here to encourage those who read to see the lighter side of the irritants of life. By writing them, it encourages me to do the same as I often fall prey to everyday stresses. My wife, Tina, and my friend Karen have always encouraged me to write and get the craziness out of my head, so here goes. Enjoy.

Release Your Inner Ninja

By Mad Sweeney

Today, I have nothing to do. Well, I do, but my boss is on vacation and when the cat is away, the mice will play. This is true in even amongst the hardest groups of workers. Since I am stuck here in front of my brain sucking computer, I thought I might share a few thoughts I have had recently in an effort to get them out, make sense of them, and then laugh at them. My wife says I have a sick sense of humor and often wonders whether she should laugh or worry, so to clarify, you all may laugh. No need to worry.
A few days ago, a member of a message board I was on posted an aggravated question about his new neighbors and their desire to ride un-muffled dirt bikes at one in the morning, and what he should do to stop them. The suggestions that followed were those from every walk of life (religious preference, ethnic background, law breaking, law abiding, etc.). My suggestion? Learn the ways of the Ninja.
While the various people argued (people argue over anything nowadays) back and forth over their beliefs, I plugged away with my philosophy on what should be done. Mostly from a humorous standpoint. My thoughts were well received by the originator, but as most people do, the over-analytical political correctness of today's American took over and my thoughts were discounted. To each his own. I sat back and watched as the "love thy neighbor" crowd got their butt kicked by the "kick his ass" crowd, and then trampled every rational idea in between. It is just like us to argue so much that we move from the original problem and begin attacking each other on a personal level. Which of course leaves the individual with the problem standing there, shaking their head in disbelief, and of course with no solution.
You are probably asking what this has to do with the Ninja. Well, in reality, nothing. It is simply just a state of mind on how to deal with a pesky neighbor. The Ninja today is more commonly acquainted with something one may see on Saturday morning cartoons, or in a video game, but the actual history of the Ninja is shrouded in secrecy. Today's versions are merely modern interpretation of fables dating back 1100 years. In fact, the word Ninjitsu, which the word Ninja is derived from, means "the art of stealth," and I can see where this could be handy in dealing with the annoyance in question. You see, there is nothing funnier than watching someone (the annoyance) get up quickly and look around dumbfounded wondering what happened to them. Sort of like falling flat on your face and then getting up to see if anyone saw it happen. I think the art of stealth is a much more fun and satisfying way to rid yourself of the pestilence next door. Some may argue that it would be sinking to the level of said individual, and that the police should be called or ask him nicely to stop, but I say, fight fire with fire. Release your inner Ninja.
In the case of the midnight motocross, one could play many tricks to curtail this behavior in the future, and not even break the law. The first thing you will need is jammies. Yes, that's right, Ninja jammies. Those solid black outfits that give the true Ninja his stealth. But lets get creative. There is a certain creepiness about running around in the woods at night, and even the most boozed up motorcycle rider as invincible as they may seem, can easily have the bejesus scared out of them. So along with your jammies, you'll need a ghoulish mask. Something realistic. Next time Knievil gets on his bike for a midnight cruise, don your outfit and head out into the woods. The biggest part of the plan at this point is to figure your escape route. This is most important as a true Ninja will never be apprehended. Once you have figured out the plan, find a tree or any suitable shrubbery and hide behind it. When the biker comes along, with perfect Ninja skill and timing, jump towards the motorcycle, but not in front. Although you must be seen to get the full effect of the scare, it would only be momentarily, and will leave a lasting impression. Do not wait to see if your plan worked, as escape in the opposite direction of your home is more important. You will know your plan worked when the motorcycle goes back inside never to be heard from again unless the sun is out. Then sit back and revel in your success. Your spouse will wonder what you are constantly snickering at, but you must never tell as a Ninja never reveals his secrets.


***This article was written only as a parody. The world of the Ninja can be very dangerous, and the writer assumes no responsibility for injuries occured while attemping. Do not try this at home. Professional driver on closed course. All models are over 18. Objects in mirror are closer than they appear. If rash occurs, discontinue use and seek professional medical treatment. This product not 100 percent effective against preventing pregnancy.***