QUACK!!! QUACK!!! QUACK!!! QUACK!!!

Pretty much sums it all up!

(Photo lifted from ESPN.com.)

Random musings.

This is not a proclamation of fact, but it is possible that I am too old for this crap.

Perhaps it is time I:
A) Found a sweet young thing with a passion for shoveling snow.
B) Bought a snowblower.

I just need to check out which is lower maintenance.

I’m Dreaming of a White Thanksgiving!

Hey, just doing what I can to get Karla in the mood to cheer on UMD as they start their quest for the NCAA Division II championship on Saturday! (It’s kind of Duluthish outside!)

You may be asking yourself, “What is Mac doing home at this time of day on a workday?” Well, there is a long, horrendously funny story about me getting Richard’s car stuck in the driveway this morning. But, I won’t bother you with details.

All those ill-willed anti-TSA comments.

Okay, perhaps I am desperate, but why would I be opposed to some handsome young man fondling my gonads so I can board a plane. I’m thinking it is the first bonus airlines have added in a few decades. No, I don’t get a meal with my flight. Yes, I have to pay for my drinks. But, my god, for the price of an airline ticket, I get groped and fondled and allowed to let my fantasies run free. And this is a bad thing?

Flying is going to be fun again!

Home Ill.

I was home yesterday, sick with an undisclosed illness. It was something like sleeping sickness, but to the best of my knowledge, I haven’t been in contact with a tsetse fly. I did, however, lie in bed for about 21 hours yesterday. But for a few pet-induced spells, those 21 hours were spent sleeping.

I like to think of my pets as beings that will hang with your through the tough points. I like to think of my pets as dogs and cats that love you for who you are and want to nurse you through the hard times. Hell, I would be frickin’ happy that they knew that I am partially responsible for them having food in the bowl every day.

Yesterday crushed my dreams. Ralph beat me with his tail until I submitted and let him out into the rain and mud. Max abandoned me at the first sign of infirmary. Trixie lay on top of me: gentle minds might say she was trying to keep me warm. Sorry, I know she was just trying to crush me and praying to never be groomed again. Spike tickled my face with his whiskers ever 24 minutes to make sure I was still annoyable. I mean alive.

If I am ever sick again, I am going to a hotel: a pet-free hotel.

UMD 45, Minn State-Mankato 21

The game postponed on Saturday was played on Sunday.

Bulldogs are in the playoffs (first round bye)!

Random notes from the Fête du Bon Père.

#1. I’m not admitting that I ate too much, but I did have to be carried to bed on a stretcher. (Thanks, Ralph & Trixie!)

#2. Minn-Duluth’s football game against Minn State-Mankato was postponed due to snow. Wusses! Oregon never postpones its games due to snow. We have a great new invention called the ‘snow-shovel’, and we know how to use it!

#3. It is true. Ice cream isn’t nearly sweet enough without being smothered by a huge ladleful of Johnny Sauce.

#4. I almost made a major faux-pas. I always guard our secret family recipes with the utmost caution and concern. I understand the grave importance of keeping the nitty-gritty details out of the hands of the common masses. I know that if you give ‘John Doe’ the clandestine procedures for preparing macaroni & cheese, the next thing you know there would be a perverted version out there with peas and bacon bits mixed in. Such revolting aberrations are crimes against nature. The bastards responsible should be brought up in front of the tribunal in den Haag (The Hague) and tried for their crimes. The dirty sons-of-…
But I digress.
I was watching The Game when Richard coyly called out from the kitchen, “I’ll turn on the oven for you if you tell me what temp the mac & cheese should be baked at!” I almost blurted out the answer. But for the grace of a moment of senility I would have foolishly given out a family secret. But you have to give it to Richard. He is wily.

#5. Five out of six members of my household prefer a low scoring Duck football game. There seems to be a large demographic of the residents who don’t enjoy earsplitting duck calls or loud screams of “Kill the [expletive deleted] Dawgs. Rip their [expletive deleted]head off and stuff it up their [expletive deleted] [expletive deleted].” Apparently such outbursts make certain members of the household nervous. So, the vast majority of the dwellers of this abode thought yesterday’s game was the most enjoyable of the season. With that said, Richard did admit that at times the silence was worrisome and more than once he sent Ralph in to make sure I hadn’t expired.

I don't know where Trudy found this card.

But I must admit it is pretty poignant.

I’ve decided to spend my birthday in the South of France.

Reality has little bearing on how I fritter away my day. Trust me; retreating in to my personal fantasy world is much more appealing than dragging out the veracity of this cold, sun-less day. Truth be known… No! No! No! We are not going there.

I am in the south of France. Mes pieds sont dans le Mer Méditeranée. It is sunny and warm. There are beautiful people to my left and beautiful people to my right. I look great. I am young and virile. I have a bottle of 1997 Bollinger Blanc de Noirs Vielilles Vignes Francaises champagne chilling beside me. I am sophisticated, suave and debonair.

The balmy sun warms my very soul as I lounge in the gentle breeze. Why look! It’s Ed McMahon coming my way. He has a check in his hand from the Publisher’s Clearinghouse. Under different circumstances, I would find it a bit macabre, getting a check for $1,000,000.00 from a dead person. But today, it’s fine.

And I’ll be hornswaggled, but isn’t that George Clooney sidling up next to me. He looks deep in my eyes and says, “If only you were single, I’d whisk you away with me.” He raises a fist to the gods and shouts , “Damn that Richard, if only I had found you first!”

Mesmerized by his intense gaze, I mutter, “Richard? Who’s Richard?”

As the sun set’s on another beautiful day in the South of France, my limo picks me up from the shores of the Mediterranean and carries me home. Tomorrow may not be as great as today, but I will always have the memories.

The First Snow of the Season.

Today was the day. Saints are dancing in the yard. Two happier critters would be hard to find.

Richard called me this morning to bring the news that it was snowing at home. “Yee Haw”, I screamed! “Oh, I mean, umm… damn, you gonna be okay?” He actually seemed somewhat light hearted in his response, as he told me to go to h-e-double l. (For a brief moment I thought he might break out in song, but don’t worry. I was mistaken.)

So, we all laugh at work and finally 4PM rolls around and I leave to go home. Nothing unusual: until I hit the four-way stop where East Marina Drive hits Highway 35. And then I notice the big snowflakes hitting the windshield. “Hmm, all the way down here”, I think to myself.

I know you are all thinking, “Thank the good beings that Mac is prepared for everything. We are sure he had no problem getting home, because he has lived in Hood River for almost 24 years, and because he has seen snow before Halloween and because he saw the weather forecast calling for snow down to 2,000 feet.

Oh, you loving, loving innocent people. Yes, I knew where my studded tires were (under the deck), and I knew where the bags of sand I put in the back of my pick-up were (beside the driveway). I was driving my deathtrap home with no other recourse.

It didn’t get worse as I climbed the hill out of Hood River proper. The highway was still clear at Pine Grove. But despite the flat between Pine Grove and the Odell cutoff, there was suddenly snow by the side of the road, and slush in the middle. It was still very passable. Got all the way up to Willow Flat and there was no problem: slow going, but no disasters. Then just as I am turning the corner to the former viewpoint (there is no longer a viewpoint: the trees have grown too big), I notice cars littered along the road. And I do mean littered. Three or four of them are in the ditch. Many more are spread eagle across the highway.

I panic. I pull over to the side of the road. I put on my emergency break and start to get out of my pick-up. It starts to slide. I really don’t know what to do, but let it slide into the guard rail. That is why they are there, right?

So, I pull out my chains. Does anyone have any idea how much I hate to put chains on my truck? I would rather have a root canal! But I was ready to do it. Then a snowplow went by. I threw the chains on the passengers seat, I let the traffic get by, then skidded on to the plowed highway.

I am home. I am happy.

And yes, it is about three inches.

So Much to Do.

Just get cleaned up from the All Saints’ Day debauchery and you turn around and it’s time to get ready for the Fête du Bon Père. There’s the macaroni to harvest, Saints to rotate, candy corn to prepare, felines to appease, ice cream to lovingly hand-crank, walls to launder, and the Johnny Sauce to tap from the Johnny Sauce Tree. So much to do; so little time.

And, of course there were those highlighted football games on Saturday.

As I am sure you are all aware, UMD squeaked by Minnesota-Crookston, 55-7. I tell you, it was a nail-biter. GO BULLDOGS! (Am I the only one who was stunned to find out that the University of Minnesota has a campus in Crookston?)

But their canine compadres, the UW Huskies (or Huckin’ Fuskies as they are referred to south of the border) took it in the shorts. It was a little embarrassing. Ducks 53, Dawgs 16. It was kind of like clubbing cute, adorable puppies.

I cheered a lot: the duck call was used often and at full volume.

There were delicate explanations that I needed to give to Ralph and Trixie when all was said and done. Actually, Richard gave the explanations. I just asked for forgiveness on Sunday. I don’t mean to insinuate I drank too much during the onslaught, but, technically speaking, I don’t remember the end of the game.

I think I will have to behave myself just a touch better when Oregon hosts the Arizona Wildcats. Max has a tendency to kill first and ask questions later.

Just do it.

Return of the Quack!

Okay, now I am just showing off. I now know how to attach YouTube flicks to my blog. Damn, I'm only a decade behind real life.

Some of you may remember last year's "I Smell Roses." This is the 2010 version.

My god, we are past roses, we want more. And a special nod to Joey Harrington, the Oregon quarterback in 2001, when the #2 ranked Ducks didn't play for the national championship, because... Oh, jesus, I get worked up just thinking about it.

Go Ducks!

A quick shout out to the Bulldogs!

It's not just the Ducks having a banner year! UMD (Minnesota-Duluth) is ranked #1 in NCAA Division II football for the first time in the school's history.

So I think that would be "Woof, woof, quack, quack."