bigfun54
Footballguy
What "stripper experience" would $875 get you in Youngstown these days. Good god, I can't wait.
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GM's thread about nothing (15 Viewers)
- Thread starter General Malaise
- Start date
St. Louis Bob
Footballguy
YSR
Footballguy
Homer J Simpson
I don't push
Foosball God
Foos
When did soccer get so f'n expensive. I just registered my son and daughter for fall soccer and it cost $230 and we still have to shell out like $50 each for their required uniforms. WTF?
SofaKings
Footballguy
That's nothing.
That Little Voice
Footballguy
I need some strange.
videoguy505
Footballguy
I think that's the going rate for "Pinkey's Special"
Sideshow Bob
Footballguy
HFS
Homer J Simpson
I don't push
No BS, there's a place where I just found out that $200 will get you a divorce waaaay more than a lappy.
Ray Stevens
Footballguy
God, I hope so. Or that would be the most expensive lap dance ever.
Sideshow Bob
Footballguy
Yet all you can find OTHER places in Ohio is a near-your-lap dance from chicks in bikinis.
Homer J Simpson
I don't push
What can I say? When it comes to criminal activity, Youngstown>>>>>>>Columbus.
Angry Beavers
Footballguy
Holy #### I have not laughed that hard in a LONG time.......
Congrats GM!
Congrats GM!
I wish this had been true and not a poorly worded sentence.Congratulations on finding a new Mrs. GM.
General Malaise
Footballguy
I need an editor.
Just part of your charm.I need an editor.
bigfun54
Footballguy
Of course, the best part of all of this is you can drink at all night at said club and your drink tab will make up about $27.50 of the $875.
5Rings
Lurker
Amen, Gambino. God bless and congrats,Folks, this is why the internet was invented.JFC, I miss the GM stories of years past...most of which would get banned nowdays and force him to slink around as redeyeguywholovesdudes or something.The Wedding Diaries - Day 1 - Daddy Driven to Airplane Scotch
If you ask my sons, age 7 and 5, what the best part of the last week of their life was, chances are you'll hear a multitude of answers ranging from swimming on the beach of a Michigan Lake to dancing with the Sun Messengers until 12:30am to learning how to play bocce ball with true Italians to spotting and watching a UFO fly right over our heads to being given the green light by my MIL to eat her endless supply of ice cream sandwiches morning, noon and night to listening to my college and HS buddies tell embarrassing, albeit PG rated, stories about their dad to drinking typically forbidden Cokes as often as they pleased. And while all those are true and impossible for them to single out as their very favorite moment of the past week, nothing at all compares to the excitement I saw in their eyes when the school secretary called them out of their classrooms and into the office at 11am last Tuesday to meet their dad and depart on their voyage to meet up with their future step-mom and my wife to be.To say they were excited to bolt school early, hop on a plane, fly across the country and miss the next few days of 1st grade and kindergarten would be like saying Fred Flintstone mildly anticipated the bird call to end his work day. These boys were literally skipping down the hallway to greet me. We signed out, raced home, got our bags in order and waited for my sister to pick us up and drive us to the airport. Their mouths didn't stop moving the entire time as commentary flew out at a rate John Madden would admire. It was then I realized that I was, for the first time in my life, about to wedge myself on non-direct, change-planes-in-Chicago, Southwest Airlines Flight with Beavis & Butthead all alone, with no co-parent to assist me. I was going to have to play Cover-2 without any help from the Free Safety against Peyton Manning and company. I began to wonder if they sold bear tranquilizers inside the airport. I'm not a praying man, but friends, I'm not above saying I bowed my head and asked sweet Jeebus to send Maverick from Top Gun to pilot our planes.
Check in through the airport was, thankfully, uneventful. Well, that is if you forget the fact that my youngest son began to take his pants off to deposit them in the security bucket along with his shoes before I could turn around and tell him we didn't actually have to go through the airport screen naked like his older brother had told him.We made it through no problems, found our gate and found a nearby restaurant to park ourselves, order a little pre-flight food, a couple of sodas and a giant beer. The boys ate their food like starved dogs, leaving me all alone to play games on the moving walkways, which were fortunately within my sightline. The airport was relatively empty, so their antics weren't too encroaching and with any luck at all, I was hoping the treadmill like sprints would tire them out...at least a little.
With a final gulp of my 22 Oz Ninkasi IPA, it was time to line up on the Southwest Cattle Car and not only bid farewell to the rain and cold of Oregon, but also say good bye to fine Northwest micro brews. For the next cold ale to hit my warm and eager hands would come in a blue can and would be, to my best guess, 8 hours away. The boys and I lined up in the A group, readied our boarding passes and then....then the fighting started. "I CALL WINDOW SEAT"! "HEY, THAT'S NOT FAIR"! "IS TOO, I CALLED IT FIRST"! "YOU ALWAYS CALL EVERYTHING FIRST"! "THAT'S BECAUSE I'M SMARTER THAN YOU"!
I quickly bent down and shushed them with a scowl Ice Cube would appreciate. I pulled out a coin, told the oldest to call it in the air which led to, you guessed it, "HEY, HOW COME I CAN'T CALL IT IN THE AIR"! Sigh....The lines began to move and in a negotiation move Kissinger would admire, I told them that since they couldn't agree that I would sit on the window the entire trip on all legs of every flight. They immediately made an arrangement whereupon one would get a window from Portland to Chicago and the other would get a window from Chicago to Detroit and then vice versa on the trip back. Splendid. Well, except for the fact that that meant dear old dad, purchaser of all fares, would ride in the middle seat coming and going. Failure to do so would be like moving the Israelis and the Palestinians even closer together. Sigh....
We loaded into our seats, settled in nicely and actually had a very nice, uneventful flight to Chicago. My sons absolutely LOVE to fly and ask questions I really don't have answers for, but tend to, upon exhaustion, fabricate my responses. "Dad, where do planes go when they aren't being used?" "They, uh...they have a really big plane wash area, kind of like those car washes we go through at the gas station to get clean. It takes a long long time". "Dad, what happens if a plane gets a flat tire?" "Ummm, they have tow truck planes that come up underneath and change them". If I don't provide an answer, they'll just keep hammering away. They are going to hate me when they grow up and realize that everything I've told them about air travel is BS.
After the initial excitement of flying wore off and after the boys had tired of playing their Nintendo DS games, they began to get restless, leading to the inevitable question every father endures on any trip - "How much longer"? And they didn't want to know what time, since the time zones were skewing their grasp on reality. No, they wanted to know the number minutes. Minutes they understand. "How many more minutes until we land" was plagued upon me over and over. Then they wanted to go to the bathroom. And they wanted to poop on an airplane toilet as if pooping on an airplane toilet was like landing on the moon. I put my foot down on that one and told them they could do what every normal human does - wait until we arrive at the airport in Chicago. When asked if they'd like to take a nap, you would have thought I asked them if they wanted a lava enema. Sigh...
The plane change in Chicago was quick and painless, but the fighting over seats began a new as we boarded, our treaty already forgotten. We finally settled in, with me in the middle, beleaguered and ready for the day to be over. Once air born, the flight attendant asked what I wanted. For the first time in ages, perhaps years, I ordered a Scotch on the rocks. Ahhh, glorious Scotch. My old friend. It went down Hennigan's smoooooth. And so did the flight. Night was now here and as we flew over the Great Lake and into Michigan, I was finally as excited as my boys were all day long. I had been apart from my lady for nearly a week and couldn't wait to see her. Couldn't wait to greet her family again. Couldn't wait to get these boys off the mother F'ing plane.
Upon arrival, we waited an eternity for our bags. It was a battle to keep the boys from riding on the baggage carousal, though deep down, I wanted to ride around with them to quell the boredom of wating for suitcases. Finally, they dropped down and we left to catch a bus to make our way to the Budget Rental Counter where we learned, near midnight now, that they were OUT of our rental car. Right before I jumped over the counter to strangle the gal who had informed me that they were out of my car, she said the most glorious words I had heard all day long "Sir, will a Mini-Van work instead, no extra charge"? Folks, I have a dirty little secret. I've always wanted a mini-van and were it not for my ex-wife refusing to sign off on one years ago, I'd be the owner of one right now. So when I get a free upgrade to rent one, I do it. And I drive it like I'm the ghost of Dale Earnheart.
We loaded up into the van, admired the cool sliding doors, the spacious room, the drink holders and best yet, it's ability to go 85-90 on Detroit's copious, wide open highways. My wife's family lives an hour and change away from the airport. We got there in 50 minutes, thanks to some insane Michigan drivers who feel 85 in the left hand lane is a sin. We followed a few guys going 90+. We rocked hard to AC/DC, .38 Special and Journey. We arrived to a full house, an arm full of hugs and the first of many ice cold Labatts.
GM
Last edited by a moderator:
St. Louis Bob
Footballguy
My GB just called, they all went back to his house and continued. After a few more drinks his GF started taking her clothes off and running around his front yard. Keep in mind my other GB, his brother and their GF's are there. He tries to "stop" her and she takes his clothes off. They begin to go at it and my GB passed out about two minutes in. She managed to get him back in the house and she passed out. They both forgot about this until she discovered a bunch of grass stuck to her butt.
zander_s
Footballguy
Just when i thought this thread couldn't get any better! SLB for the win!!My GB just called, they all went back to his house and continued. After a few more drinks his GF started taking her clothes off and running around his front yard. Keep in mind my other GB, his brother and their GF's are there. He tries to "stop" her and she takes his clothes off. They begin to go at it and my GB passed out about two minutes in. She managed to get him back in the house and she passed out. They both forgot about this until she discovered a bunch of grass stuck to her butt.
Mr. Pickles
Footballguy
It's really never been very good, but it's kind of like a rash that won't heal.
Bob Sacamano
Footballguy
If they're from tamale guy, I was still tasting them 2 days later, so I'd assume so.
krista4
Footballguy
We were at a bar on Saturday night with our friends from Memphis that went up there with us, when he walked in the door and Mr. krista4 and I simultaneously screamed "Tamale guy!" It's a little hard to explain to an out-of-towner the excitement he generates.
Bob Sacamano
Footballguy
I'm sportin' a semi- just reading about it.
St. Louis Bob
Footballguy
I love tamales.
General Malaise
Footballguy
The Wedding Diaries - Day 2 - Michigan Beaches
Wednesday morning at 8am, my two sons decided to ignore their internal body clocks which were supposed to be set on the trailing three hour PST, and jumped out of bed with the sort of energy and enthusiasm I could profit from if ever I learned a way to bottle and sell it. Today was a day for the ladies to get their nails and hair done, meaning they were going to spend the better part of the day in Aunt Marie's salon and leaving the fellas to fend for themselves. I had several errands to run on Wednesday and was relieved to learn that my future BIL Adam (my wife's sister's husband) took the day off of work to run them with us.
Adam is 27 years old and built like Kevin James from "King of Queens". My youngest son, with no prompting from anybody else, began calling him "Tiny" the first time he met him last summer. It's a name that has stuck and makes everyone laugh when they hear a 5 year old kid call out to the former college linebacker with the sort of ball-busting tone one typically develops later in life. "Tiny" and my wife's little sister were married about 2 years ago after dating all through college and beyond. I normally have reservations about people marrying in their early 20's, but this is the rare couple that was truly meant to be together. Though I've only been around Adam a handful of times since I met my wife, I took an instant liking to him and asked him to be a groomsman last summer on a fishing trip. One of the best moves I've ever made. This kid is already one of my best friends and he was an MVP this past week, hosting my bachelor party, making breakfast and Bloody Mary’s for the groomsman the day of the wedding, opening up his home the day after the wedding for a BBQ and ensuring that all beers were kept ice cold all week long.
So Wednesday morning, after the girls left for the salon and after my boys ate the first of many breakfast ice cream sandwiches, Adam came over to the house and agreed to run errands with us. Now for the last month plus here in Oregon, the weather has been god awful. It has rained nearly every day and I don't think we've seen 70 degrees since early April. It's been abysmal. Fortunately, the weather in Michigan was absolutely post-card perfect all week. Wednesday was no exception. Blue skies, sunshine and 80 plus degrees. Ideal weather for cramming two small boys in a mini-van and driving to the mall! First stop, Men's Warehouse, to try on and pick up our Tuxedos. Like me, Adam avoids the mall like an STD infested outhouse. When I asked him where the Men's Warehouse was in the mall, the laughed and said "Dude (he says dude a lot...also bro and man), I haven't been inside this mall in years. I have no idea." I figured our best bet would be to just park, walk in, locate the map and make our way to George Zimmer's guarantee.
I've been to the Mall of America, once. Once. And I've been to some giant malls in Texas. I have never in my life been in a bigger, more confusing mall than this one in Lake Orion, Michigan. This thing was so big, it had zones. ZONES! There were stores we passed I'd never heard of before, selling things I didn't even know existed. It was quite clear from the map that our strategy of just parking and walking was a massive fail. It literally took us 10 minutes to get to the Men's Warehouse. Once we got there, the boys noticed the store was next to a snow-cone kiosk. Out of all the freaking places to stash a sugar infused kiosk, it had to be right in front of the Men's Warehouse, where little boys are supposed to sit still and try on tuxedos? Why not a cell phone kiosk, or a candle kiosk or one of those stupid herbal tea ones? It was all I could do to keep them focused and on task. "Can we get a snowcone? Can we get a snowcone? Can we get a snowcone?" I could see Adam texting his wife, reminding her to pick up her birth control prescription for the next 10 decade. I got them fitted one at a time, leaving Adam to play man on man defense with each son. Then it was my turn to try on my tux, which meant Adam now had to go to a zone. When I got done with my tux and changed back into my shorts and flip flops, I came out to find a man who looked like he had seen the ghost of Jason Vorhees riding the back of the ghost of Jaws. My boys were parading around the mannequins, doing summersaults on the floor, chanting "SNOWCONES, SNOWCONES, SNOWCONES"....
So we got some snowcones. And walked 10 minutes back to our car. Next item of business, the Cigar Store. There I picked up $100 worth of cigars, gifts for my groomsmen and smokes for the bachelor party. I know it's not a flask or a flashlight or a pocket knife or golf balls. But my gift to the groomsmen were good cigars and their $25 buy in for the Texas Hold 'Em tournament we had on tap for the bachelor party. For anyone needing a good cigar store in Michigan, I recommend Tobacco Gallery on Lapeer. Great dudes in there. Very friendly and very helpful. When I returned to the car, I got to explain to my boys for the next 15 minutes why I was going to smoke a cigar when all their lives I've told them that smoking is a killer. I think I could have done a better job explaining quantum physics to a turtle.
Up next, we made a trip to Kroger's, where we bought the following supplies for the bachelor party:
2 cases of Labatt's in a can
1 case of Stella
1 case of Pacifico
1 case of Corona
1 case of Sierra Nevada
5 bags of Tostadas
3 jars of salsa
1 bag of trail mix
1 jar of mixed nuts
Oh, and some ice. Lots and lots of ice.
From there, we went to Tiny's house, unloaded all the supplies and learned that his neighborhood had a private lake with sandy beaches. Considering that we had run all our errands and didn't have anywhere to be for a few hours, we asked the boys if they'd like to go swimming at the beach. If I had asked them if they'd like to drive a car, buy an ice cream store or move inside of Disney World, their reactions wouldn't have been as excitable as they were when we mentioned to swimming at the beach. My boys LOVE swimming in lakes and rivers. I LOVE them swimming in lakes and rivers because they sleep like hibernating bears when they are done. Adam and I loaded up a cooler with some cokes, a few cold beers, grabbed towels and sun block and made our way to his private beach.
Now supposedly, many neighborhoods in Michigan are designed to give access to small, private lakes, where you can boat, fish, swim, party. We don't have that in Oregon. At least, not in any of the neighborhoods I've ever visited (Lake Oswego not withstanding). When my boys learned of this, it was all the information they needed to here to make a determination that we needed to move to Michigan. Methinks a winter there might change their mind. The beach was empty, save for one other family. Nice little sandy beach with a volley ball court, picnic tables, horse shoes and a roped off area for swimming. It was perfect. Adam and I cracked open our first ice cold beer of the day and spent the next 2 hours shooting the breeze, cracking jokes and watching my boys tire themselves out in the chilly waters. As the afternoon moved along, some high school kids began to filter in and enjoy the day. Included in this mix of kids were a handful of very well endowed young ladies, wearing the skimpiest of bikinis (Homer > hi!). I don't recall the high school girls looking like this in the 1980s. My sons, who were busy splashing each other and jumping off the large wooden raft stopped what they were doing and just stared at the young sirens making their way into the water to join them. Maybe there's hope after all for my eldest son.
After a while, it was time to head back home and get ready for the evening. My parents and best man were coming in that afternoon and would be joining us at my in-laws house for dinner. In addition, my wife's grandfather was going to join us, giving us an opportunity to celebrate his 90th birthday. The guy recently lost his wife of 64 years, so this was a special night for all and to mark the occasion, I picked up a bottle of 2000 Dom Perignon from Costco prior to my flight out. I had chilled the champagne earlier in the day and managed to keep it hidden and secret until we popped it later that night. It was a huge hit and her grandfather was elated. My wife's father is an amazing cook and we had a tremendous feast of tenderloin, bacon wrapped asparagus, roasted potatoes, artichokes and some of Oregon's finest wine, which we had been buying and shipping to Michigan over the last year and a half to help celebrate 'wedding week'. My parents and best man made it out to the house no problem and we had just an awesome time eating together, drinking fine wines and champagnes and listening to her grandfather tell fabulous stories. I'm amazed that at 90 he has the sharp recall he does and I was pleased that my sons sat there and listened with wide eyes. You don't get many chances in life to listen to history being retold in the first person. This man was a decorated WWII hero, owned his own concrete business, raised 6 children and was married for 64 years.
After a long dinner and after putting the boys to bed, my parents left to go back to the hotel and the rest of the family started hitting the sack. My best man, wife and I stayed outside under the perfect night's sky, absorbing the rest of the wine, smoking cigars and talking until nearly 3am. My best man and I go back 20 years. He lives in Austin, Tx now. I don't get to see him nearly as much as I like, so it was really cool to catch up and shoot the breeze. My wife adores all my friends and understands their importance in my life. I can't tell you how valuable that is to me and I'm very appreciative. No nagging, no lectures about staying up late drinking and smoking, no hassle at all. She simply smiles, hangs out with us, laughs at all the stories and when she's ready for bed, she kisses me goodnight and says "Have fun, but don't you dare let him drive home. Good night". At 3am, I pointed him to the couch, crawled to my bed upstairs, curled up next to wife and went to sleep as the happiest man in America.
Wednesday morning at 8am, my two sons decided to ignore their internal body clocks which were supposed to be set on the trailing three hour PST, and jumped out of bed with the sort of energy and enthusiasm I could profit from if ever I learned a way to bottle and sell it. Today was a day for the ladies to get their nails and hair done, meaning they were going to spend the better part of the day in Aunt Marie's salon and leaving the fellas to fend for themselves. I had several errands to run on Wednesday and was relieved to learn that my future BIL Adam (my wife's sister's husband) took the day off of work to run them with us.
Adam is 27 years old and built like Kevin James from "King of Queens". My youngest son, with no prompting from anybody else, began calling him "Tiny" the first time he met him last summer. It's a name that has stuck and makes everyone laugh when they hear a 5 year old kid call out to the former college linebacker with the sort of ball-busting tone one typically develops later in life. "Tiny" and my wife's little sister were married about 2 years ago after dating all through college and beyond. I normally have reservations about people marrying in their early 20's, but this is the rare couple that was truly meant to be together. Though I've only been around Adam a handful of times since I met my wife, I took an instant liking to him and asked him to be a groomsman last summer on a fishing trip. One of the best moves I've ever made. This kid is already one of my best friends and he was an MVP this past week, hosting my bachelor party, making breakfast and Bloody Mary’s for the groomsman the day of the wedding, opening up his home the day after the wedding for a BBQ and ensuring that all beers were kept ice cold all week long.
So Wednesday morning, after the girls left for the salon and after my boys ate the first of many breakfast ice cream sandwiches, Adam came over to the house and agreed to run errands with us. Now for the last month plus here in Oregon, the weather has been god awful. It has rained nearly every day and I don't think we've seen 70 degrees since early April. It's been abysmal. Fortunately, the weather in Michigan was absolutely post-card perfect all week. Wednesday was no exception. Blue skies, sunshine and 80 plus degrees. Ideal weather for cramming two small boys in a mini-van and driving to the mall! First stop, Men's Warehouse, to try on and pick up our Tuxedos. Like me, Adam avoids the mall like an STD infested outhouse. When I asked him where the Men's Warehouse was in the mall, the laughed and said "Dude (he says dude a lot...also bro and man), I haven't been inside this mall in years. I have no idea." I figured our best bet would be to just park, walk in, locate the map and make our way to George Zimmer's guarantee.
I've been to the Mall of America, once. Once. And I've been to some giant malls in Texas. I have never in my life been in a bigger, more confusing mall than this one in Lake Orion, Michigan. This thing was so big, it had zones. ZONES! There were stores we passed I'd never heard of before, selling things I didn't even know existed. It was quite clear from the map that our strategy of just parking and walking was a massive fail. It literally took us 10 minutes to get to the Men's Warehouse. Once we got there, the boys noticed the store was next to a snow-cone kiosk. Out of all the freaking places to stash a sugar infused kiosk, it had to be right in front of the Men's Warehouse, where little boys are supposed to sit still and try on tuxedos? Why not a cell phone kiosk, or a candle kiosk or one of those stupid herbal tea ones? It was all I could do to keep them focused and on task. "Can we get a snowcone? Can we get a snowcone? Can we get a snowcone?" I could see Adam texting his wife, reminding her to pick up her birth control prescription for the next 10 decade. I got them fitted one at a time, leaving Adam to play man on man defense with each son. Then it was my turn to try on my tux, which meant Adam now had to go to a zone. When I got done with my tux and changed back into my shorts and flip flops, I came out to find a man who looked like he had seen the ghost of Jason Vorhees riding the back of the ghost of Jaws. My boys were parading around the mannequins, doing summersaults on the floor, chanting "SNOWCONES, SNOWCONES, SNOWCONES"....
So we got some snowcones. And walked 10 minutes back to our car. Next item of business, the Cigar Store. There I picked up $100 worth of cigars, gifts for my groomsmen and smokes for the bachelor party. I know it's not a flask or a flashlight or a pocket knife or golf balls. But my gift to the groomsmen were good cigars and their $25 buy in for the Texas Hold 'Em tournament we had on tap for the bachelor party. For anyone needing a good cigar store in Michigan, I recommend Tobacco Gallery on Lapeer. Great dudes in there. Very friendly and very helpful. When I returned to the car, I got to explain to my boys for the next 15 minutes why I was going to smoke a cigar when all their lives I've told them that smoking is a killer. I think I could have done a better job explaining quantum physics to a turtle.
Up next, we made a trip to Kroger's, where we bought the following supplies for the bachelor party:
2 cases of Labatt's in a can
1 case of Stella
1 case of Pacifico
1 case of Corona
1 case of Sierra Nevada
5 bags of Tostadas
3 jars of salsa
1 bag of trail mix
1 jar of mixed nuts
Oh, and some ice. Lots and lots of ice.
From there, we went to Tiny's house, unloaded all the supplies and learned that his neighborhood had a private lake with sandy beaches. Considering that we had run all our errands and didn't have anywhere to be for a few hours, we asked the boys if they'd like to go swimming at the beach. If I had asked them if they'd like to drive a car, buy an ice cream store or move inside of Disney World, their reactions wouldn't have been as excitable as they were when we mentioned to swimming at the beach. My boys LOVE swimming in lakes and rivers. I LOVE them swimming in lakes and rivers because they sleep like hibernating bears when they are done. Adam and I loaded up a cooler with some cokes, a few cold beers, grabbed towels and sun block and made our way to his private beach.
Now supposedly, many neighborhoods in Michigan are designed to give access to small, private lakes, where you can boat, fish, swim, party. We don't have that in Oregon. At least, not in any of the neighborhoods I've ever visited (Lake Oswego not withstanding). When my boys learned of this, it was all the information they needed to here to make a determination that we needed to move to Michigan. Methinks a winter there might change their mind. The beach was empty, save for one other family. Nice little sandy beach with a volley ball court, picnic tables, horse shoes and a roped off area for swimming. It was perfect. Adam and I cracked open our first ice cold beer of the day and spent the next 2 hours shooting the breeze, cracking jokes and watching my boys tire themselves out in the chilly waters. As the afternoon moved along, some high school kids began to filter in and enjoy the day. Included in this mix of kids were a handful of very well endowed young ladies, wearing the skimpiest of bikinis (Homer > hi!). I don't recall the high school girls looking like this in the 1980s. My sons, who were busy splashing each other and jumping off the large wooden raft stopped what they were doing and just stared at the young sirens making their way into the water to join them. Maybe there's hope after all for my eldest son.
After a while, it was time to head back home and get ready for the evening. My parents and best man were coming in that afternoon and would be joining us at my in-laws house for dinner. In addition, my wife's grandfather was going to join us, giving us an opportunity to celebrate his 90th birthday. The guy recently lost his wife of 64 years, so this was a special night for all and to mark the occasion, I picked up a bottle of 2000 Dom Perignon from Costco prior to my flight out. I had chilled the champagne earlier in the day and managed to keep it hidden and secret until we popped it later that night. It was a huge hit and her grandfather was elated. My wife's father is an amazing cook and we had a tremendous feast of tenderloin, bacon wrapped asparagus, roasted potatoes, artichokes and some of Oregon's finest wine, which we had been buying and shipping to Michigan over the last year and a half to help celebrate 'wedding week'. My parents and best man made it out to the house no problem and we had just an awesome time eating together, drinking fine wines and champagnes and listening to her grandfather tell fabulous stories. I'm amazed that at 90 he has the sharp recall he does and I was pleased that my sons sat there and listened with wide eyes. You don't get many chances in life to listen to history being retold in the first person. This man was a decorated WWII hero, owned his own concrete business, raised 6 children and was married for 64 years.
After a long dinner and after putting the boys to bed, my parents left to go back to the hotel and the rest of the family started hitting the sack. My best man, wife and I stayed outside under the perfect night's sky, absorbing the rest of the wine, smoking cigars and talking until nearly 3am. My best man and I go back 20 years. He lives in Austin, Tx now. I don't get to see him nearly as much as I like, so it was really cool to catch up and shoot the breeze. My wife adores all my friends and understands their importance in my life. I can't tell you how valuable that is to me and I'm very appreciative. No nagging, no lectures about staying up late drinking and smoking, no hassle at all. She simply smiles, hangs out with us, laughs at all the stories and when she's ready for bed, she kisses me goodnight and says "Have fun, but don't you dare let him drive home. Good night". At 3am, I pointed him to the couch, crawled to my bed upstairs, curled up next to wife and went to sleep as the happiest man in America.
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General Malaise
Footballguy
You gotta admit it was employed quite well in this case, no?
Mr. Pickles
Footballguy
I'm just a little bitter I never saw one for myself.
Pat Patriot
Footballguy
What a great story. Got the chills reading it especially the part of rehearing history in the eyes of a great man who has lived it. My wedding week was NOTHING like this. I'm terribly jealous right now.Edit. BTW, Congrats buddy!The Wedding Diaries - Day 2 - Michigan Beaches
Wednesday morning at 8am, my two sons decided to ignore their internal body clocks which were supposed to be set on the trailing three hour PST, and jumped out of bed with the sort of energy and enthusiasm I could profit from if ever I learned a way to bottle and sell it. Today was a day for the ladies to get their nails and hair done, meaning they were going to spend the better part of the day in Aunt Marie's salon and leaving the fellas to fend for themselves. I had several errands to run on Wednesday and was relieved to learn that my future BIL Adam (my wife's sister's husband) took the day off of work to run them with us. Adam is 27 years old and built like Kevin James from "King of Queens". My youngest son, with no prompting from anybody else, began calling him "Tiny" the first time he met him last summer. It's a name that has stuck and makes everyone laugh when they hear a 5 year old kid call out to the former college linebacker with the sort of ball-busting tone one typically develops later in life. "Tiny" and my wife's little sister were married about 2 years ago after dating all through college and beyond. I normally have reservations about people marrying in their early 20's, but this is the rare couple that was truly meant to be together. Though I've only been around Adam a handful of times since I met my wife, I took an instant liking to him and asked him to be a groomsman last summer on a fishing trip. One of the best moves I've ever made. This kid is already one of my best friends and he was an MVP this past week, hosting my bachelor party, making breakfast and Bloody Mary’s for the groomsman the day of the wedding, opening up his home the day after the wedding for a BBQ and ensuring that all beers were kept ice cold all week long.
So Wednesday morning, after the girls left for the salon and after my boys ate the first of many breakfast ice cream sandwiches, Adam came over to the house and agreed to run errands with us. Now for the last month plus here in Oregon, the weather has been god awful. It has rained nearly every day and I don't think we've seen 70 degrees since early April. It's been abysmal. Fortunately, the weather in Michigan was absolutely post-card perfect all week. Wednesday was no exception. Blue skies, sunshine and 80 plus degrees. Ideal weather for cramming two small boys in a mini-van and driving to the mall! First stop, Men's Warehouse, to try on and pick up our Tuxedos. Like me, Adam avoids the mall like an STD infested outhouse. When I asked him where the Men's Warehouse was in the mall, the laughed and said "Dude (he says dude a lot...also bro and man), I haven't been inside this mall in years. I have no idea." I figured our best bet would be to just park, walk in, locate the map and make our way to George Zimmer's guarantee.
I've been to the Mall of America, once. Once. And I've been to some giant malls in Texas. I have never in my life been in a bigger, more confusing mall than this one in Lake Orion, Michigan. This thing was so big, it had zones. ZONES! There were stores we passed I'd never heard of before, selling things I didn't even know existed. It was quite clear from the map that our strategy of just parking and walking was a massive fail. It literally took us 10 minutes to get to the Men's Warehouse. Once we got there, the boys noticed the store was next to a snow-cone kiosk. Out of all the freaking places to stash a sugar infused kiosk, it had to be right in front of the Men's Warehouse, where little boys are supposed to sit still and try on tuxedos? Why not a cell phone kiosk, or a candle kiosk or one of those stupid herbal tea ones? It was all I could do to keep them focused and on task. "Can we get a snowcone? Can we get a snowcone? Can we get a snowcone?" I could see Adam texting his wife, reminding her to pick up her birth control prescription for the next 10 decade. I got them fitted one at a time, leaving Adam to play man on man defense with each son. Then it was my turn to try on my tux, which meant Adam now had to go to a zone. When I got done with my tux and changed back into my shorts and flip flops, I came out to find a man who looked like he had seen the ghost of Jason Vorhees riding the back of the ghost of Jaws. My boys were parading around the mannequins, doing summersaults on the floor, chanting "SNOWCONES, SNOWCONES, SNOWCONES"....
So we got some snowcones. And walked 10 minutes back to our car. Next item of business, the Cigar Store. There I picked up $100 worth of cigars, gifts for my groomsmen and smokes for the bachelor party. I know it's not a flask or a flashlight or a pocket knife or golf balls. But my gift to the groomsmen were good cigars and their $25 buy in for the Texas Hold 'Em tournament we had on tap for the bachelor party. For anyone needing a good cigar store in Michigan, I recommend Tobacco Gallery on Lapeer. Great dudes in there. Very friendly and very helpful. When I returned to the car, I got to explain to my boys for the next 15 minutes why I was going to smoke a cigar when all their lives I've told them that smoking is a killer. I think I could have done a better job explaining quantum physics to a turtle.
Up next, we made a trip to Kroger's, where we bought the following supplies for the bachelor party:
2 cases of Labatt's in a can
1 case of Stella
1 case of Pacifico
1 case of Corona
1 case of Sierra Nevada
5 bags of Tostadas
3 jars of salsa
1 bag of trail mix
1 jar of mixed nuts
Oh, and some ice. Lots and lots of ice.
From there, we went to Tiny's house, unloaded all the supplies and learned that his neighborhood had a private lake with sandy beaches. Considering that we had run all our errands and didn't have anywhere to be for a few hours, we asked the boys if they'd like to go swimming at the beach. If I had asked them if they'd like to drive a car, buy an ice cream store or move inside of Disney World, their reactions wouldn't have been as excitable as they were when we mentioned to swimming at the beach. My boys LOVE swimming in lakes and rivers. I LOVE them swimming in lakes and rivers because they sleep like hibernating bears when they are done. Adam and I loaded up a cooler with some cokes, a few cold beers, grabbed towels and sun block and made our way to his private beach.
Now supposedly, many neighborhoods in Michigan are designed to give access to small, private lakes, where you can boat, fish, swim, party. We don't have that in Oregon. At least, not in any of the neighborhoods I've ever visited (Lake Oswego not withstanding). When my boys learned of this, it was all the information they needed to here to make a determination that we needed to move to Michigan. Methinks a winter there might change their mind. The beach was empty, save for one other family. Nice little sandy beach with a volley ball court, picnic tables, horse shoes and a roped off area for swimming. It was perfect. Adam and I cracked open our first ice cold beer of the day and spent the next 2 hours shooting the breeze, cracking jokes and watching my boys tire themselves out in the chilly waters. As the afternoon moved along, some high school kids began to filter in and enjoy the day. Included in this mix of kids were a handful of very well endowed young ladies, wearing the skimpiest of bikinis (Homer > hi!). I don't recall the high school girls looking like this in the 1980s. My sons, who were busy splashing each other and jumping off the large wooden raft stopped what they were doing and just stared at the young sirens making their way into the water to join them. Maybe there's hope after all for my eldest son.
After a while, it was time to head back home and get ready for the evening. My parents and best man were coming in that afternoon and would be joining us at my in-laws house for dinner. In addition, my wife's grandfather was going to join us, giving us an opportunity to celebrate his 90th birthday. The guy recently lost his wife of 64 years, so this was a special night for all and to mark the occasion, I picked up a bottle of 2000 Dom Perignon from Costco prior to my flight out. I had chilled the champagne earlier in the day and managed to keep it hidden and secret until we popped it later that night. It was a huge hit and her grandfather was elated. My wife's father is an amazing cook and we had a tremendous feast of tenderloin, bacon wrapped asparagus, roasted potatoes, artichokes and some of Oregon's finest wine, which we had been buying and shipping to Michigan over the last year and a half to help celebrate 'wedding week'. My parents and best man made it out to the house no problem and we had just an awesome time eating together, drinking fine wines and champagnes and listening to her grandfather tell fabulous stories. I'm amazed that at 90 he has the sharp recall he does and I was pleased that my sons sat there and listened with wide eyes. You don't get many chances in life to listen to history being retold in the first person. This man was a decorated WWII hero, owned his own concrete business, raised 6 children and was married for 64 years.
After a long dinner and after putting the boys to bed, my parents left to go back to the hotel and the rest of the family started hitting the sack. My best man, wife and I stayed outside under the perfect night's sky, absorbing the rest of the wine, smoking cigars and talking until nearly 3am. My best man and I go back 20 years. He lives in Austin, Tx now. I don't get to see him nearly as much as I like, so it was really cool to catch up and shoot the breeze. My wife adores all my friends and understands their importance in my life. I can't tell you how valuable that is to me and I'm very appreciative. No nagging, no lectures about staying up late drinking and smoking, no hassle at all. She simply smiles, hangs out with us, laughs at all the stories and when she's ready for bed, she kisses me goodnight and says "Have fun, but don't you dare let him drive home. Good night". At 3am, I pointed him to the couch, crawled to my bed upstairs, curled up next to wife and went to sleep as the happiest man in America.
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Homer J Simpson
I don't push
Sounds like it was a great day, GM.
Sucks that your phone got broken though. Otherwise I'm sure you would have taken pics of the bikini-clad high school chicks for your GB Homer.
Sucks that your phone got broken though. Otherwise I'm sure you would have taken pics of the bikini-clad high school chicks for your GB Homer.
General Malaise
Footballguy
The bikini-clad high school chicks were rolling with a posse of shirtless dudes who look like they don't push and would most assuredly kick my butt.Sounds like it was a great day, GM.
General Malaise
Footballguy
Thanks, GB.You know, I think our generation was fortunate to be able to hear all of the stories about the Depression and WWII first hand. My kids? Rare is the opportunity for them to hear about it. My grandfather is 88. My kids see him a few times a year. He can't communicate, can't move, can't interact. It's heartbreaking, but a decade back, he used to regale the room with stories from WWII, himself a decorated soldier. To find a man who can still lucidly talk about those days and discuss them openly with children today....that's rare. That's a treasure. I was really proud that my boys sat there and listened. They'll be richer for it. A great and amazing generation of American men and women these people are and were.
Oh, and he really opened up after a tiny, thimble sized glass of Dom.
buster c
Footballguy
Radical Larry
Footballguy
Awesome.
charvik
Footballguy
General Malaise
Footballguy
St. Louis Bob
Footballguy
I'm at home again today because Cal has a 100 degree fever. I think him, his brother and the dog have devised some sort of sinister plot to drive me insane.
I wish there was somebody in our family with a medical background that could take care of this for me.
I wish there was somebody in our family with a medical background that could take care of this for me.
St. Louis Bob
Footballguy
Oh, that's right, my is a RN. How could I forget paying for that?
HoldSteady
Footballguy
Radical Larry
Footballguy
I'm at home today because...well...I don't work in the summers.
Oh, and some broad just called from a casting agency for a gameshow production company. She's looking for people to come in and tape pilot episodes for some new show. The catch is that I have to bring in 7 other people.
General Malaise
Footballguy
IN!!!!I'm at home today because...well...I don't work in the summers.
Radical Larry
Footballguy
IN!!!!I'm at home today because...well...I don't work in the summers.Oh, and some broad just called from a casting agency for a gameshow production company. She's looking for people to come in and tape pilot episodes for some new show. The catch is that I have to bring in 7 other people.
She wants me to bring in teachers I work with.That would be pretty cool though "So how do all of you guys know each other?" "The internet."Similar threads
