3.1.09

My mom and I did about the most St. Joe/redneck thing you could do on a Sunday. We went to a chili cook-off. Now, I can't poke too much fun. I see the draw. It's a lot of really, really good chili. And that's fine. And I can't make fun of the people who go to it. But it's just not my bag or my people. Maybe when I'm 60 and turn in my ironic shirts for overalls. Maybe.

2.28.09

I like to think of myself as a simple man who doesn't ask too much.

For years, I've just wanted to hear Jimmy Eat World perform "For Me This is Heaven" live. They announced back in November/December the "Clarity x 10" tour. I could not wait. I got my tickets for Chicago, made the arrangements, etc.

If you know me, planning is something I rarely do, so this was big. I ended up selling the other ticket I got because it was just in case maybe I would find some random lady that would like to hear one of the best albums made in the last 20 years performed in full, live. It didn't happen. That's fine. I'm good flying solo.

So I'm ready to go. I'm an hour and a half into the trip to drop my stuff at my sister's house in Bourbonnais, Ill. Then my car shakes and bam! The tire pops.

Somebody from a local tire store comes over to help me put on the spare. I'm not freaking out. It's a tire, it can be easily replaced. But wait. It's a broken strut that lowered itself onto the tired and basically turned it into shredded beef. That will need fixed and there are no mechanics open on Saturday. Basically, any hopes of fulfilling my 7-year-old dream have been crushed to a fine dust.

I dunno. I'm still upset. My friend and blog pal Kate has probably written a great post about the concert, but I'm just too crushed to read it because I know it had to have been beyond amazing.

I haven't been this torn up since, well, last February. And that's why this month can suck it. I just wanted to hear the album live, in full. I just wanted to hear "Goodbye, Sky Harbor" in its 12 minute glory. Gah. And in Chicago! Bleh. OK. I'm stopping now.

2.27.09

I'm probably late with this - but really - Chocolate crosses? Mmmmm....nothing like savoring what men were crucified on. Specifically the reason for Easter, good ol JC. I'm not usually prone to reacting to something so trivial, but this is just bad judgement.

2.26.09

I'm sorry this is so blurry. But apparently the paper has this guy named Marty and on Mardi Gras, he becomes Moon Pie Marty and passes out moon pies. If only every day was Mardi Gras.

2.24.09/2.25.09

Nothing today.

2.23.09

I love this baby. I can't remember his name (they might say it on the video). But he is cute as a button. Here is a video of him finding his reflection very, very entertaining.

2.22.09

Pizza. With church friends. Pretty self-explanatory.

2.21.09

A novel idea if there ever was one in St. Joseph. Every year they hold a Mardi Gras parade where the local drunks and families (a fine combination) come out and freeze their asses to watch the floats go down a few blocks downtown. Honestly, though, it's an event in The Joe and its well-meaning.

So I have to cover it for the paper, which is no problem. But I loved this exhange, of sorts between an unattractive older lady and me.

Let me set the scene. I'm walking down the sidewalk to get back to the paper. It's cold outside and I am frigid. A group of people are to right of me, preparing for the celebration, that when I hear this:

Older, Unattractive Lady (to me, apparently): Show me your beeeaaads!
(I continue walking, pretending she said nothing)
O,U L: Hey! I'm talking to you! .... Gee wish I could pretend like no one's talking to me!
(Continue walking)
O, U L: Wish I could walk around with a giant stick up my ass............
Guy That Was With OUL: I don't know. He looks like he works for the FBI.

I assume he thought I was an FBI agent because I had a Press badge on. I dunno. It was odd. The only thing stranger was two floats that were mere feet apart each with "sexy" ladies on them dancing and each playing equally terrible Nickelback songs (Seriously, look up the lyrics to "Something In Your Mouth" and try to fight the urge to end your life).

2.20.09

The Shamrock Shake has returned to McDonald's! Yes We Can!

2.19.09

Today I had to go to this sleepy little Amish town in BFE, Missouri when a guy murdered another guy. I had to interview the neighbors who were quite interesting. This street looks like the remnants of the old West that left long ago.

2.18.09

It's not always the big victories that matter, it's the small ones that really keep me going. Take, for example, this one. I was in desperate need of caffeine and went to get a Diet Mountain Dew (they taste terrible, but I'm not a coffee or tea drinker, so bear with me). So I see one bottle hanging over the edge like a suicide jumper giving his last words. And I notice with my wit and cunning that another bottle above it would correctly knock this sucker down and give me double the pleasure and double the shakes.

I put in the correct change, push the buttons and Bam! Win two for the good guys. Pardon my slightly creepy whispering and that I sound like a moron who just won several tickets at the "Wack-A-Mole" at Chuck E. Cheese. My days are nary as exciting as this.