The Oak Lair

Rockabye Sweet Baby Shea

2010-06-25T12:25:00.000-07:00

It has already been a week since we were introduced to Shea Ann Bright, when we were stunned by her early appearance. Arriving over 3 weeks early, she has given us no reason to believe that she should've cooked longer, unless you count the fact that she has no eyelids. Just kidding, she has eyelids, and also a suprising amount of body hair, or lanugo. Rather than the black, coarse hair you might expect to find on a newborn, lanugo is a soft downy hair that is not to be shaved off, for it will only grow back thrice as thick four times as fast. You will be shaving it so much that you will be using up razor blades (jump to 8:24).

In addition to the fur, or rather before I even noticed the fur, there was a thick coating of what I like to call Shea Butter.

In fact, that's the nickname that I'm going to try to make stick for her...that or Shea Stadium. I should be a-Sheamed of myself. Anyway, rather than continue to ham it up, I will redirect the spotlight onto the star of the show. I give you...Shea Butter.

Too tender.

This Blog is a Hot Mess

2010-06-09T10:40:00.001-07:00

...more to follow.

Maura at 2 Years

2010-05-01T07:30:00.000-07:00

Looking pretty good. I took this picture right after she got home from volunteer firefighting.

And like any red-blooded firefighter 2yr old she wanted her birthday party to be held at a bowling alley. Her only complaint was that "you can't smoke anywhere nowadays".

She casts a satisfied gaze out the window of her new house and over her sprawling estate.

The past few days I've been able to soak up some one on one quality time with this little chicken strip, and aside from the overexposure to Elmos and Doras and what have you, it's been nice to be dad all day. Although a rather large portion of kid's programming is painful to watch (Special Agent Oso I'm looking in your direction), there is one little funky jam I can tolerate...okay fine, I crank the volume and dance my head off everytime it comes on.

I don't care who you are, that is a jam.

Just a Hot Mess

2010-03-13T19:56:00.000-08:00

Why do you need 150 cable channels? So you can happen upon a show that features the dissection of a giraffe, decide that it's not as cool as you thought it was gonna be, flip over to Ice Road Truckers for 4 minutes, then turn it to some farm channel that's blasting a commercial for Big Joe's Polka Jamz and strike gold.

Check out the old timer at 2:15 that doesn't feel like clappin' along.

Curling, Shuffleboard, Horseshoes, Hand Grenades

2010-02-25T07:11:00.000-08:00

The Winter Olympics always seems to renew interest in sports that don't normally get a lot of attention. Curling is one of these sports. Let me first say that I think curling is very interesting, and I think it looks like a lot of fun. Having said that, I think what I'm drawn to is the mystery surrounding its exhaustive glossary of jargon that describes sliding a rock on ice...basically shuffleboard. Do people get all lathered up about shuffleboard? Is shuffleboard an Olympic event? Maybe it could've been had it included one more incongruous element...like sharks with laser beams attached to their heads. At any rate, curling wins with its wacky lexicon, and it's possible that I would enjoy barking out terms like kizzle kazzle and hog line more than the actual game play itself.

I could go into the strategy and terms at greater depth, but I'm just reading it on Wikipedia, so I'll save myself the trouble and just focus on some of the better curling images I've found.

On Tenterhooks

2010-01-12T05:54:00.000-08:00

Hell's Nursery

2009-12-29T19:23:00.000-08:00

Maura of course has an extensive library of books geared for the young reader. Among these is a book which she received this Christmas that is a collection of classic nursery rhymes. Harmless as they are, there are a few that contain some shockingly violent themes. So hop up on papa's lap and I'll share a few of the more entertaining ones with you, and by doing so, this post could maybe be used in the future as some kind of manual for why Maura's life took such a drastic downturn.

The Queen of Hearts

The Queen of Hearts she made some tarts,
All on a summer's day.
The Knave of Hearts he stole the tarts,
And took them clean away.
The King of Hearts called for the tarts,
And beat the Knave full sore.
The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts,
And vowed he's steal no more.

Why don't we beat people anymore?

Rock-a-bye Baby

Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top.
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
Down will come baby, cradle and all.

Now that we understand what will happen can we maybe not put a baby in a tree?

Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.

Just a tragic story. I can't say it enough. If you're not careful on hills you will fall and fracture your skull.

Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses and all the King's men,
Couldn't put Humpty together again.

Translation:
A big fat guy fell to his death and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.

There Was an Old Woman

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.
She gave them some broth without any bread,
Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

There are so many things wrong with this. You live in a shoe, fine. But what's the story with all the kids? I understand you can't afford to feed them all, but that doesn't mean they deserve to be whipped...with a whip.

Goosey Goosey Gander

Goosey Goosey Gander, whither shall I wander?
Upstairs and downstairs and in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man who would not say his prayers,
I took him by the left leg and threw him down the stairs.

This was the last one in the book, so I guess we can all agree that the best was saved for last. What's going on here? Who is this guy who talks to geese? All I know is you better say your prayers or your ass is getting thrown down the stairs.

I will now take a crack at combining all of these into the most horrific nursery rhyme ever written.

Jack and Jill climbed up a cliff
To hang a baby cradle.
A guy came along and grabbed them by the legs,
And threw them off the edge.
All the horses in the area
Couldn't save their lives.
Everyone was beaten and whipped,
And sent to bed with no supper.

The Great Christmas Blizzard of '09

2009-12-24T11:16:00.000-08:00

I guess we're in for it. Feed the dog team and pack the sled, because it sounds like that's the only way we're gonna make it to Grandmother's house this Christmas. Yukon Cornelius is already lickin' away at his pickaxe, just amped up to start swinging it wildly.

As for you, g'head...start the fire.

Unable to carry out our travel plans on this Christmas Eve, we decided to continue to try to persuade Maura to play in the snow. We didn't get too crazy, but as you can see we've got the beginnings of a pretty sweet igloo/fort/castle goin' on.

I also noticed that one of the tires on the man-van was a bit low, so I promptly drove it over to the friendly neighborhood Wal-Mart to get it sorted out. After killing a little time it occurred to me how prone to suggestion I can be. I walk in, tell the gal my tire's low, at which time she asks if I want the oil changed. Sure. I go to the waiting area, see some coffee...don't mind if I do. There's a tv with a dvd player repeating the menu sequence for Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull. Might as well start it up. I call Jodi, who reminds me that there is a Subway at the front of the store, and guess what I instantly want for lunch.

December 26th

That all happened on Christmas Eve, and now I'm back to write more and report on all the snow we didn't get. I don't want to get too critical of the people giving the forecast, because picking on the weatherman is pretty much a slam dunk every time. I will say though that his 8-11 inches was off by about 8-11 inches.

At least we can say with certainty that he didn't mislead anyone into traveling in unsafe conditions. We had a safe Christmas with family, shared stories and gifts, and played Wii until our arms were sore. Hopefully you were able to do the same, managing to not shoot your eye out.

Christmas List

2009-12-12T18:49:00.000-08:00

Among other things, Christmas is a time for list making. Last year I was compelled to do a countdown of my favorite tree ornaments, so this year I will lay out my wish list sung to the tune of The Twelve Days of Christmas.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

12 lanes to bowl on

11 live grenades

10 oompa loompas

9 HAL 9000s

8 trucks of liquor

7 speeder bikes

6 skydiving simulators

5 golden Deloreans

4 trebuchets

3 Segways

2 Flowbee systems

...And a partridge farm and hatchery.

Chippewa in da Moonlight

2009-12-02T17:55:00.000-08:00

The Wisconsin gun deer season has drawn to a close, and it has reportedly been a safe one. Just how safe I'm not sure, but my guess is that the safety is partly due to the fact that no one saw any deer, and consequently had no reason to discharge a firearm. This was the case for myself and so many other hunters this year. Buck pools drying up in all the taverns, jackalope sales going through the roof...it's a shame. I had intended for this post to feature a picture of a beautiful deer, lifeless head held in my hands, tongue flopped out sideways, goofy grin on my giant potato-like face. I wanted it bad, but dere were no turdy pointers.

Instead, I will emphasize the positive by speaking to the four basics of firearm safety. There are many variations, but these are the ones I know. "There are many like it, but this one is mine."

"Guns don't kill kids, I kill kids."

T.A.B.K.

Treat every firearm as though it were loaded.

Always keep the muzzle pointed in a safe direction.

Be sure of your target and what is beyond it.

Keep your booger hook off the bang switch until you intend to fire.

Now wasn't that just as fun as shooting a big, fat, juicy live deer?

Uh oh. Looks like someone forgot pretty much everything we just talked about.

There may be a couple more opportunities for me to spill blood, so stay tuned as I will try to deliver the goods during late bow season.

Halloween + Packers = Fun

2009-11-11T19:44:00.000-08:00

Life has been packed with richness and full flavor lately, and rather than document it at every turn, I've just been letting it wash over me. Since I haven't exactly been bloggin' like Kenny Loggins, this entry is going to read a bit like a Facebook page.

Kenny Loggins: "Why don't you just create a Facebook account then?"

Don't worry about it.

Here are a couple Halloween leftovers that I'm gonna force to the top here...

This is a motion-activated heart that has somehow found it's way out of someone's body and is now being chewed by rats...available at Walgreens.

After trick or treating, we met with some friends at the Eau Claire Children's Museum to see what that was all about. I was surprised to see how cool it was, in large part due to the giant digestive system playground.

There goes Maura down the esophogus. Every so often the crawling would trigger some kind of slurpy, squilchy digestive sound to further supplement the experience.

It was really a rather groovy atmosphere once inside.

Then it's off to Lambeau Field to watch the Packers get manhandled by the Vikings. Obviously there was a lot of hype leading up to this game, as everyone wondered how Brent's homecoming would go. I'd have to say it was a little anticlimactic, with the cacophony of booing lasting only 15 seconds or so. I figured the place would erupt into such disturbance that the game would have to be delayed, but as it turns out, people are pretty much over it. I had also heard a lot about how the Packers defense would be giving Brett a lesson from the school of hard knocks. I would have been happy with any knocks. Maybe just start with a little bit of pressure and then work your way up to a sack or an interception.

I did notice a strange reaction from the lady sitting next to me when certain things would happen on the field though. She would kind of generally cheer for the Packers after successful plays, but it seemed like she was hesitating to cheer for any one particular player, especially A-Rod. Sure enough, she still had lingering feelings for Brett, because every time he contributed to a Viking effort to bury the Pack she would applaud. Any fan that would put an individual (especially from another team) ahead of the Packers is a fan that I don't want to know.

What a buncha bums.

Meet Helmethead. He was sitting a few rows down carrying on and soaking through his unlit cigar, so I figured I'd seize the opportunity to get a picture with a Lambeau legend. Unfortunately his painted skull didn't bring us any luck this time, but this is no Halloween costume my friends. He'll be ready to rock next week with a fresh coat.

A smattering

2009-10-18T18:54:00.000-07:00

It's been another long stretch between posts, and I'll be the first to say that it is downright unacceptable. You deserve much better than this, and I am committed to bringing you a more reliable product here at the Lair. Listen baby, it's not you it's me. We've just grown apart. If you love something, set it free, then if it comes back to you it was meant to be.

Obviously I'm going to need a little time to reconnect with my inner smart-alec, but in the meantime just put on your Snuggie, fix yourself a glass of wine, and microwave some tater tots. You just do whatever it is you've got to do to prepare for the latest installment of The Oak Lair.

A lot has happened over the last month, but I really only intend to talk about the movie premier that shocked the nation...and Lost Nation. The highly anticipated remake of Children of the Corn introduced my hometown to the world on September 26th, and left me feeling that it wasn't as much a horror movie as it was just a horror of a movie. That's exactly what I expected though, and I can't wait to watch it again.

Fast forward to this weekend, and this is where the smattering of autumnal activities happens. Saturday the almost god-like Iowa Hawkeyes tore into Madison, sat the Badgers down, took attendance and proceeded to hand out a hard lesson about Hawkeye football. "You will learn by the numbers!" they instructed.

Today was lovely as well, as we...

attended a birthday party,

checked out Farm and Fleet's Toyland,

carved pumpkins,

roasted punkinseeds,

and assembled Mount Skullcracker in the basement.

Reflections on Basket Lake

2009-09-04T09:45:00.000-07:00

Chompy and me

With only sky above and water below, the only reminder that you are a civilized being is a softly puttering motor that eases you across a gently rolling lake. Serenity now. The waves tenderly lap at the side of the boat as you scan the shore trying to identify anything that may have looked different a billion years ago. Pass the sunscreen.

First thing's first

That pretty much sums up the week I just spent in Canada in pursuit of the elusive walleye. I was fortunate enough to be invited to by a couple family friends to fish with them on beautiful Basket Lake in Ontario. We arrived at camp last Saturday afternoon and immediately began pulling tender, unsuspecting walleye from the depths.

Scott with a happy walleye

Truth be told, it required a little more cunning this year than it has in the past. Evidently the summer temps were a little screwy this year, so as a result, the fish behavior was a little less predictable. Generally when fish are found at a certain depth in one area it can be assumed that they can be found at that same depth across the lake. Our experience was a little different, so we needed to use every available tool to gather as much fish data as possible. They play their game, we play ours.

Three Sisters N 49° 42.629 W091° 57.870

Gull Rock N 49° 41.628 W091° 58.017

The orienteering was a big part of the fun for me. It's satisfying to acquaint yourself with unfamiliar territory by considering things like gps coordinates, heading, time, wind direction, water depth, temperature, shoreline features, etc. It's probably the same satisfaction people got from naming constellations...the organization of something that seemed random. There were places like Gull Rock, Three Sisters (or Destiny's Child), Fran's Island, Ray's Bay that people had already named for reference. Catching the fish really just seemed to confirm that we knew how to use the information, because we'd just reel 'em up really fast, unhook 'em and whip 'em back into the water. It's like, "Yeah, I found you and tricked you. I just wanted you to know that."

Anti-bear garbage hoist and our cabin on the left

The closest thing we had to bad weather

The weather was fab all week. In fact, the last time they saw more than two nice days in a row was like back in June, so we were very fortunate to be able to do this comfortably. Ten hour-a-day fishing is much more fun when you're not sitting in a puddle, and that's really how I prefer to remember Canada. I don't want to remember the nine-hour drive through desolate, boarded up towns, or their goofy road signs, although we did see a sweet sign that said something like, "Use of seat belts is compulsory". Wacky Frenchies.

Football

2009-08-27T04:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday there was an opinion column in the sports section that (if you could get through the sarcasm) torched fans for being too forgiving when it comes to superstar football criminals. One of his points of contention was that a product like this should no longer be available.

I don't know, it's the dog's jersey. Has anyone asked him if he likes it?

So he basically goes on to say that as long as people are entertained and the business of football is still making money, everyone's willing to grant second chances. Personally, if I had to go to prison I'd probably ask everyone to keep their judgement to themselves, because as it turns out, a judge actually passed all the judgement needed.

I'm spread way too thin the way it is, so instead of getting wrapped around the axle with Vick, Favre, Plax or whoever, I'm going to try to just be the best fantasy coach I can be.

Woodstock; A Retrospective

2009-08-17T20:11:00.000-07:00

Never in history has there ever been a larger group of people assembled for the sake of music, love and grubbiness than there was in Bethel, NY in August of 1969. Little did these gathering crowds realize, there was to be a great plentitude of all of the above.

Woodstock was one of those moments in history that continues to be heavily romanticized, as if the paragon of human existence was achieved through soggy sleeping bags and copious amounts of drug use. To be part of a herd of 400,000 people just roaming the hillside doing as you please sounds kind of awesome to me at first, but when I imagine being at the center of that mass of shiftless hippies and then realizing I forgot to turn my oven off or something...holy moly. The scenario I choose to fantasize about is one where I bring truckloads of those chemlight necklaces back in time and reveal them at dusk, right when everyone is totally rolling on acid. The Who would play second fiddle as everyone's gaze is fixed upon my mystical wares. From then on whenever someone would mention Woodstock the next thing said would be, "Oh you mean when that guy had those glowing necklaces?"

Even without the necklaces it would've been pretty awesome to take in some of those groovy tunes, even if some of the lyrics were unintelligible.

Birthday Greetings from Joe Cocker - watch more funny videos

"Hey dad, I'm bored...and curious about what we're supposed to do for three days."

"We're gonna need another sludge pot heated up over here!"

"Hey, does anyone have any earplugs!?"

"...Because I'm a voodoo chile....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

Good Clean Livin'

2009-07-27T17:46:00.000-07:00

You know what makes a good container for empty beer bottles? An empty diaper box.

Also, it's worth mentioning that we forgot to put out our recycling last week, so I really only drink half this much, so don't judge me. By the way, did you see how much milk we drink? Strength to the bones, punishment to the liver...that's what I always say. Always.

See disparity.

Lightning Awareness

2009-07-03T07:24:00.000-07:00

Is it possible to be too careful around lightning? Before you answer that, take a minute to view this shocking video. It's a far more effective means of heightening awareness than any collection of lightning statistics I could present you.

Check out this guy if you're still not convinced.

Viewer Request

2009-06-29T05:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I received a video request from a dedicated viewer who wanted to see a tribute/montage of the celebrities that have passed in the last week. My initial response was, "Whaddya think this is... TRL?!" The seed had been planted though, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to lay down yet another topical and poignant mash up of youtube vids.

It's All About Michael Jackson

2009-06-26T07:17:00.000-07:00

I never imagined I would be blogging about Michael Jackson twice in a lifetime, let alone twice in a year. As you may recall, I poured out some recognition for MJ on his 5oth birthday, and now I want to dump out gallons of lumpy recognition for his passing. Truth be told, all I'm really going to do is embed this sweet youtube video compilation of moonwalks. I may have linked it before, I don't remember and I don't want to check. I wouldn't be surprised, because in my mind Michael Jackson is pretty much synonymous with the moonwalk. He may as well be called "The King of Moonwalk" as far as I'm concerned. When I watch him dance all I see is thrust, thrust...wiggle, funny leg kick, flail-spin, and then....

MOOOOOOOOOOOOOONWALK.

It's pretty much the most captivating and mystifying blend of dancing and witchcraft that has ever been seen by more than a tribe-sized group of people.

It's All About Maura

2009-06-14T18:36:00.000-07:00

I'm going to rely heavily on the tool of imagery this time to illustrate the past week's adventures. I'm going to start with today and work backward, largely because the most important of all these occurances took place this beautiful afternoon in our backyard.

Maura walked.

I was gardening, Jodi was blowing bubbles...basically soakin' up the good life. I lifted Lil' Peepers to her feet, let her go, and watched her take about 6 steps toward mama. At that point our faces were frozen in amazement as we looked at each other thinking, "That just happened!" Of course I'd love to follow the story with a video capturing the phenomenon, but for whatever reason cameras are usually a repellent for such behavior. I'm sure the official footage will be coming soon.

Earlier, we tethered Maura into her new bike trailer and packed it with picnic fixin's for it's maiden voyage into majestic Irvine Park. Twas a pleasant ride and though I love carting her around, I couldn't help but draw a direct comparison to this.

Things were as they should be at the petting zoo.

As we travel back to yesterday, I'm standing on the rocks beneath the dam in Chippewa testing my angling finesse when I catch a glimpse of something gliding through the boiling water that I was almost sure was Nessie. After accepting the reality that I had just seen a 4-foot sturgeon it was but a moment later when I saw another prehistoric torpedo cruise past about a yard from the shore. I had heard of creatures like this living beneath dams, I just wasn't expecting to see a steady procession while I tried not to snag them with my lure. I can't remember a time while fishing that I was afraid to catch a fish, but this time I was definitely not prepared equipment-wise to do anything but watch my rod snap in the event that one of these guys took the bait.

Behold.

Oh, and I caught a crawfish...but no other fish.

The next stop for the Delorean is last weekend at Governor Dodge State Park. The occasion is a reunion between the Brights and Scanlans that through the use of Cory's exceptional camping gear collection, culminates in the creation of possibly the most heinous fireside treat ever conceived. I give you the hamburger-marshmallow-chocolate chip cookie smore.

Dontcha just want s'more?!

You may get the impression that we had food to spare if this is the kind of crap going on. You're perception would be accurate, as we seemed to have a hobbit-like meal plan happening all weekend. For example, when Jodi and I showed up at camp at about 9 on Friday night, Cory had already used his dutch oven to prepare some kind of hobo stew for he and Mary earlier, and was just putting the finishing touches on his apple cobbler for dessert. The next morning the same dutch oven was used to brew up a "mountain man" breakfast made up of veggies, eggs, sausage, and wads of cheese equalling probably about 1000 calories per serving while coffee perked on the fire. How else are you gonna get your day started?

Glow sticks and beers were frequently cracked as we listened to spooky podcasts and thought of how consistent our camping activities were with other like-minded camping purists.

Then back another week or so, a peacock or some such bird walked though our backyard at around 9 or so and flew up to the branch of one of our trees to have a nice rest for whatever reason. It's almost as if he was thinking, "Here's a bit of delightful randomness to spice up your weeknight, Cullen." Unfortunately that little story didn't spice up this post so much.

A Face You Can Trust

2009-06-02T05:06:00.000-07:00

Hi, I'm Cullen from The Oak Lair, and you're gonna say "Wow!" when you see my new ShamWow video. It's like a towel, it's like a sponge, and some might even say it's like a chamois.

This isn't exactly fresh news, but Vince Shlomi, (yeah that's his real name) had an exciting night with an exciting gal back in March. You can get all the details here unless you would rather preserve the pristine image of the Vince you imagine spending long afternoons at the carnival with...or buying $20 dishtowels from. Maybe it's time you saw the truth behind Vince's honest, caring face. Or maybe it's time you moved on to another pitchman of who's integrity you can be assured.

No One Wins With a Headbutt

2009-05-21T19:15:00.000-07:00

These profound words are from Paul Blart: Mall Cop, whose influence is evidently still strong in me after having freshly watched it. But that's not what this episode is about...although I'm not entirely sure it's not what it's about. Tonight we're gonna work through some stuff, we're just gonna put some stuff down, we're just gonna let it roll like a marshmallow moonwalk, we're not gonna get too critical...because I have been too critical lately, and I don't know why.

First of all, let's not confuse this with some sort of cry for help from the sad clown. It's not sadness, I'm just feeling a bit creatively inert. My guess is it stems from a lack of blog posting. That being said, let's jump right in shooting from the hip.

I recently noticed something in my favorite pizza place that I found hilarious and felt it was worth some attention. Amongst the others was a vending machine that offers...

Where does one begin? Sometimes things just roll into your lap with no Photoshop required. My first reaction is to reconsider everything I thought I knew about gold teeth and what kind of connotations they have in our society. Clearly it's become a status symbol, but how did that really even happen? My guess is that somewhere along the line the kids who were too cool to brush their teeth began to develop tooth decay, and ultimately were forced into corrective dentistry. After learning that their scabby teeth were going to be covered in gold for whatever reason, it became a way to say, "This is a unique proceedure that involves the use of a precious metal and as a result is very costly. That's how I roll." Does that mean we'll soon start to see pacemakers encrusted in jewels? "Check me out. I just had a $30,000 heart surgery."

Another thing to notice here is that not all of the pictured teeth have what I would consider to be "bling". The one is just a grotesque abnormality that looks more like deer antlers than teeth. Is that cool? Clearly my model for coolness needs updating, but bloody, puffy gums seem like a passing fad. Even the gums on the blingy ones look puffy, in which case you would think a person would not want to draw attention to their gingivitis. It reminds me of when I had braces growing up, and how I thought the clear ceramic ones would be "cooler" and less noticeable. As it turned out, the rubber bands would readily turn yellow, giving the appearance of translucent yellow balls of crud covering my teeth, drawing attention to my gingivitis. Talk about your all-time backfires. At least I only had braces for four years.

All this fun doesn't come without a price though, as Bling Teeth pose a choking hazard. Hard to imagine that a small irregularly shaped piece of plastic that you put in your mouth could be a choking hazard. I suppose I'll just have to put my trust in the good people at Bling Teeth. It reminds me of a Halloween makeup package I once saw that pictured a kid whose face was painted up like a witch or something with the words "no mess" at the bottom. That sort of assumes that you don't find the whole thing to be a mess.

Surprisingly, this vending machine is right next to the Bling Teeth, and there might even be a tattoo one next to that.

At any rate, you could easily transform yourself into a dirtbag with little more than pocket change. You could fool your friends, maybe even trade Bling Teeth. So much for curbing my criticism. Collect all 22!

Emerge My Little Babies

2009-04-27T18:36:00.000-07:00

I've been gettin' pretty lathered up lately about garden stuff, and I just can't hold it in anymore. I realize that not many of my friends or work colleagues are as jazzed about flora and fauna as I am, and it is evident in the yawns that immediately follow my words. What then makes you, a dedicated Lair reader any different? You are no different. You've probably already jumped over to Hulu after two sentences of this steaming pile. So what I'm essentially doing here is curling up with my diary...the behavior of a twelve year old girl. Let's have a quick summary.

Gardening = Geriatric

Diaries = Pre-pubescents

Me = Identity crisis

It's actually fine. I like it, the garden likes it, it keeps me off tha streets...we all win, and this year I'm hoping to win big. What I'm finding is that it all boils down to soil preparation. Last year the priority was just to get the thing together with little regard for the soil composition. As it turned out, Kit Kats and diapers don't need that much nourishment so it all worked out. This year though, I will be upping the ante with sweet ingredients like lime, manure, shredded decomposing leaves, dead squirrels, and possibly a little sphagnum moss. Any good gardener will tell you that organic material is crucial to the prosperity of your little ecosystem, and that it can hardly be overdone. That is why I am especially committed to brewing an especially tangy batch of nitrogen-rich crud for all of my little babies to soak up.

Another horticultural aspiration I had for this year was to extend the growing season. The two ways I plan on doing this are by way of sowing seeds indoors and relay planting. The indoor seedlings are really just kind of a way to get more satisfaction out of it all by witnessing and facilitating the entire process. I don't expect to save any money, but it has provided me with enough knowledge to start up a killer conversation over canasta at the rest home.

Take a look

The dudes in front are like, "Feed meh Seymore!"

Also, I went out tonight to see if anything was happening on the hops front, and would you believe the little turds are about six inches tall already? They're lookin' mighty too. Thick n' meaty, ready to stink up the joint. With any luck we'll have this going on soon.

Archers of the Oak Lair

2009-04-18T12:16:00.001-07:00

I took part in my first 3-D archery target shoot today, and I'm here to report that it was all that I was hoping it would be. The event was one of many put on by the Eau Claire Archers and it was clear that they had their ducks (or any wildlife for that matter) in a row.

Not exactly sure what to expect, I showed up with a couple fellow 3-D virgins (sorry Scott and Ralph) ready to shoot some crap. And what a variety of crap there was. Our hunt began on a winding trail that led us to our first unsuspecting target...a caribou I think. There he stood, totally oblivious to the deadly predators nearby. What a beauty. Foam horns, nice big foam body...stunning. I should also mention that this all plays a lot like golf. You approach your target, estimate yardage (measure yardage with a range finder in our case) and let one fly. There's an obstacle of some kind at each stage like elevation or a pesky tree branch that must be accounted for too, further separating it from the controlled setting of an indoor range. So anyway, back to this juicy, majestic specimen that stood before us waiting to be harvested. I wheel up to the tee box, nock my $6 arrow, and release my first shot into the animal's leg giving me 5 out of a possible 12 points. Not the end of the world I thought, I mean the thing's almost 40 yards away, I didn't completely miss and destroy my arrow...did I? As it turned out, I must've hit the stake that anchored the foam beast to the ground because when I pulled out my arrow it looked like this.

Trying to leave all that behind me, I was less than optimistic about my chances with the next 39 targets and 5 remaining arrows. I knew there would be a certain level of donation for participating in something like this, but an arrow per shot seemed a bit ridonkulous. But after a few good arrows I started to become more confident in the notion of actually finishing the round with the equipment I brought. It bears mentioning though, that any time you have 3 dudes shooting at the same spot over and over again, and Jupiter aligns with Mars, there is a chance for the elusive "Robin Hood". Pretty cool...especially if it's not your arrow.

One of the most pleasantly surprising things about the shoot was number and variety of target types. We were confronted by a smattering of animals ranging from mammal to reptile. It was clear that this was no attempt to emulate any kind of real hunting scenario, unless you consider wandering through a zoo deliberately and indiscriminately shooting one animal after the next regardless of species to be a real hunting scenario. Each scene individually though, did offer a shot that was a fair representation of what one might naturally find in the woods...or in Jurassic Park.

Yeah, that's a stegasaurus.

We did see this guy out there along with a variety of other Reinhart targets. I especially appreciate the bipedal nature of this one. Always wanted to shoot a biped.

The only thing I was left wanting by the end was a scary clown target. Any kind of evil clown will do, but a perfect fit would've been either a Killer Clown from Outer Space or the clown that Pee Wee chained his bike to in front of Mario's magic shop. Aside from that, I had a blast flingin' arrows and look forward to my next lawn ornament safari.

Roll Over Chopin

2009-04-05T10:54:00.000-07:00

Lately we've just been so caught up in the anticipation of Maura's first steps that we almost completely missed her musical development. When they get to this age it's hard to have a full appreciation for the scope of their ability, so this was certainly a wake up call. Join me now as we watch this little petunia blossom before our eyes.

Elite 8

2009-04-01T17:58:00.001-07:00

Hey wait...don't leave. This isn't a post about the remaining teams in the NCAA basketball tournament so hear me out. It's about the eight remaining contestants on *drum roll* ...American Idol.

Now you can run away.

I tuned in about halfway through this season, but I'm starting to get emotionally invested nonetheless. Though it's probably a complete waste of time since each of you weep sweetly while worshiping your favorite idols, I'm gonna go ahead and give you a quick rundown of each contestant and how they stack up.

8. Slumdog Bazillionaire

Anoop is a lot like salsa in the regard that people love to say 'Noop-Dog. The only difference is that if salsa is America's favorite condiment, Anoop is more like easy cheese.

7. Grubby Timberlake

I think this guy can rock a little, but every time I see him I smell corn chips and beer. His talents are more suited for cartoon voice work...like if they were to redo Peanuts he could be a 45 year old Pigpen.

6. Great American Hero

"Bye bye now."

It's almost time to mash the panic button as viewers appear to be growing weary of this awkward balladeer. My suggestion would be to dig a pair of Gokey's once worn glasses out of the garbage and see if they still hold any magical power.

5. Big Rounds

"BWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

"Little" needed a homerun on Motown week but basically had to settle for a sharp single though the infield. Definitely not terrible, but the Fantasia factor will soon wear off, much like everyone's fascination with her luscious lumps.

4. Lil' Miss Mamacita

16 years old or not, this turd can turn the dial to 11. Shortly after this picture was taken this happened.

3. Whatshisface

"Yowch! Sharp strings!"

This guy's pretty good, whatever. His giant mouth contributes to his ability to make powerful faces.

2. Gokey Smurf

"I fully ex-spec you to vote for me."

Fashion-sensitive, and just plain sensitive, Gokey's glasses are a plea to keep your eyes above the belt line. However, his overtly tender song selection may carve his name next to Clay Aiken as the nice guy runner up.

1. Emo Lambchop

"Hi, I'm Sonic the Hedgehog. Have we met?"

Say what you will about the risky arrangements and bold outfits, this drama queen knows how to continually put Paula Abdul into a state of cougar-like wonderment. His adroit performances and androgenous demeanor score points with all genders and ages.

March Tenderness

2009-03-27T07:06:00.000-07:00

Here we are at the end of March, and it appears that the college basketball world is in the grips of full-blown madness. Brackets are busted as the upsets continue, and as we wring our hands and bite our towels at home, the bench players appear to have their own way of comforting each other and coping with stress.

Interlocking arms.

"So guys, it looks like this one's coming down to the wire. I mean, we're down by six with a minute left, and well...I think it's time we interlock arms. D'Andre, Mookie, whaddya think? Would you be okay with it if I wanted to go ahead and lock up with you guys? Since we're on t.v. I think it would be a great demonstration of team cohesiveness, and honestly it would do a lot for me as well. It's not like I'm asking to hold hands with you guys, I mean come on."

Solid Parenting

2009-03-14T09:25:00.000-07:00

As we approach Maura's first birthday, I'm proud to report that she is toward the front of the pack developmentally, despite a curious and frequent habit of smacking herself about the head. I have to admit though, that as parents we still have a few opportunities. There are certain expectations to be met nowadays before a baby turns one, and I will not be the deadbeat dad that thinks that he doesn't have to play by society's rules. Do you think Posh and Beck's babies would want to suffer the embarrassment of not being on the forefront of fashion? Do you think the Brangelina babies would prefer to not have mohawks? Very doubtful.

With such a late start there was only so much we could do, but I think Maura will still thank us for the effort when she's showing off at her birthday party. In hindsight we may have been a little hasty in our decisions about these irreversible procedures, but we're not going to bother ourselves with wondering if it was the right thing to do. We had to just make the call and commit to it and trust that it was best thing we could do for our baby.

You're welcome, Maura.

Nothing is Safe...

2009-03-01T18:18:00.000-08:00

...From the meaty little paws of Maura. A short while ago Maura added a new skill to her increasingly impressive repertoire. All of the signs were there, as she had all of the makings to be the crawling variety of baby. It was only a matter of time before all chubby limbs would move in concert and unlock the next level of mobility.

Below is a video clip that documents the phenomenon, but unfortunately it comes to us at a great cost. The camera was found near a small pile of human remains and Cheerios, and scientists are using this footage to try to determine what went wrong.

Sesame Street Never Rocked So Hard

2009-02-09T20:12:00.000-08:00

Not before Stevie, and certainly not after.

Low Caliber Entertainment

2009-02-08T18:25:00.000-08:00

Desperate to shake a wicked case of full-blown cabin fever and having recently purchased a new pistol, I did what most people hope to do when the mercury rises above 30 degrees...send some lead. Fellow firearm enthusiast Scott accompanied me to the range where we proceeded to open a can on a variety of targets. This was my first opportunity to heat up the barrel on the new Ruger Mark III 22/45, and I must report that I was satisfied with its performance. Aside from performance, it was just nice to get out and do some much needed plinkin'.

Pre-Bowl Mega Flush

2009-02-01T13:21:00.000-08:00

The day we've all been waiting for is here, and the showdown between the St. Louis Cardinals and the New England Patriots is about to get underway. I can't deny the electricity I feel in the air just sitting in my living room. Maybe I need to think about running a humidifier. There's an eerie stillness in our home today....the calm before the storm. I'm pretty sure it's just because the tv's off, keeping my ears Keyshawn Johnson-free.

Obviously I'm the kind of guy who knows a lot about football, and I'm also the kind of guy who'll put his reputation on the line, so call your bookie because I'm gonna give you a free Vegas-style prediction that will surely give you the inside track on tonight's game.

Here's a beautiful picture of a male cardinal.

Here's how it's going to play out...

Kurt Warner will open the game by leading a three-play drive into the end zone. He'll then decide to go for two right off the bat to get the fans into it. Then, on the following kick off, a Steeler special team dude will run the ball through the back of his end zone on accident, resulting in a safety. Warner will jump in on special teams for the next kickoff, and yep, you guessed it, he'll receive the kick and return it for a touchdown. Anyway, things will go like this for most of the game, and to make a long story, short the Cardinals will bring home the trophy to Chippewa Falls.

Kurt Warner celebrating with some of his teamates.

Cards 30

Steelers 17

You can take that to the bank.

Early Work

2009-01-24T13:54:00.000-08:00

My mom came up to visit this week, and with her came a couple boxes of precious artifacts from my early childhood. I've always sort of wanted to put together a time capsule, but never felt that I had enough cool stuff to put in it. For all practical purposes this was a time capsule. It was a bunch of 25 year old relics encapsulated in a tote that was stuffed under the stairs.

After sorting through the old pictures, birthday cards and a select few cherished toys, something amongst the pile of construction paper and progress reports caught my eye. It appeared to be some sort of creative writing assignment...wait a minute, I think I...yes. I'm pretty sure I was in second grade, and I remember this project. It was a joint project between our class and the fifth grade class designed to marry the budding penmanship and spelling skills of a fifth grader with the eagerness and expressiveness of a second grader. It was an opportunity for the little kid to get behind the wheel while the big kid facilitated the creativity with the vehicle of literacy. Basically, he was capable of recording whatever I felt like dictating. I must warn you though, it is a frightful tale, so if you scare easily I suggest you hit alt+F4 now. For all of you bold enough to proceed, I offer you a classic Halloween tale from the dusty archives of my childhood literary catalog.

These things happen.

Bromance

2009-01-18T18:07:00.000-08:00

The term bromance can be generally described as a friendship between bros, but much like a romance, it involves higher levels of emotion, commitment, and sensitivity. An entry in Wikipedia speculates that "the financial pressure of staying single longer may lead to men becoming roommates for extended periods, fueling the bromance." This may very well be the case in many instances, but it is certainly not the case for Brody Jenner, star of the MTV reality series Bromance.

Brody, son of Olympian Bruce Jenner is not a dude that needs someone to split the rent and utilities with. His longing for the right wingman could have been sparked by the shortage of true homies in the modeling business, or maybe it was all the drama on The Hills that revealed a higher purpose. Whatever it was, it has sent this hunky socialite on the manhunt of a lifetime. Lather up your faux-hawks, put on your distressed Hollister t-shirt, and grab those aviator shades because you are about to get a cologne drenched sneak peek at Bromance.

The format of the show is the same as any other reality show (especially the Bachelorette) in that it presents a variety of challenges to the contestants in order to weed out the weaklings. In the one episode that I saw, Brody gave each of the remaining guys an opportunity to put together a fun activity to show that they knew how to be a super-rad party animal. One guy laid out a Slip-N-Slide, another one taught the others a bit of choreography...you know, your everyday average guy stuff.

"Hey there, muscly arm."

All the fellas were having fun as the evening went along, but things took a sour turn when one young man's stand-up comedy routine missed its mark, making him the butt of the joke. Ashamed of his performance, heckled into submission, and generally sad about stuff, he made his way to the bathroom "can-fessional" to unload his tearful disappointment. But just as soon as it boiled up, all the testosterone vaporized when the others realized how hurtful their actions were. How uncharacteristically non-tender.

Sadly, at the end of each episode one aspiring bro must go, but just before the curtain falls he mutters something about how Brody really made the wrong choice and how they could've had an amazing bromance using Axe body spray to lure hot mamas into their wicked-awesome frat house for the rest of their lives...and then, you guessed it...he cries.

Information You Can Use

2009-01-10T08:32:00.000-08:00

I've been receiving a lot of fan mail recently asking things like,

"Why the sharp drop-off in posting...I thought the Oak Lair was the most reliable source for everything I need to know? I'm confused...and scared." "Does Cullen just not care about me?

or

"What did I do, and what would I do without the Oak Lair in my life?"

I'm here to tell you that I do care...crap-tons, and I'll prove it to you right now by sharing with you an assortment of handy information that will be sure to give you the upper hand next time a conversation goes stale. You see, I recently picked up a book called Pocket Ref in response to my growing desire to become a referee. As it turned out, the book had nothing to do with officiating sports...it was even better. This is the most densely packed smattering of miscellaneous knowledge I have ever seen. I don't know if I'll ever need to know the electromagnetic frequency spectrum or the uranium 238 decay series, but if I do, it's all right here at my fingertips. Here's what you'd see with a casual flip through.

Personally I can't tell you how many times I've frantically waved my arms in pure frustration at a crane operator. If only I'd known these simple crane/hoist directions then. Maybe those lives would've been spared.

Holiday Tour '08

2008-12-27T08:00:00.000-08:00

After absorbing a heavy dose of holiday hubbub, I'm glad to be back at my desk here at the Oak Lair with the report of the past week's events.

It was hurry up and wait last Saturday morning as I rushed the van to the mechanic in response to a smell Jodi had noticed a few days earlier. It kinda smelled like burning rubber, so naturally I figured it was just the roasted tires from all the drag racing. Turns out it was actually transmission fluid leaking from the filter housing and spraying over the exhaust, requiring a new filter and gasket. Sounds cheap, right? Not the case.

So after an hour or so of Field and Stream, coffee from a styrofoam cup, and the incessant mutterings of a mentally ill guy in the waiting area, I was more than ready to pack up the big top and move this circus on down the road. When we arrived in Lost Nation a glorious reception awaited. Boisterous voices, and the buzz and excitement one would expect to surround an occasion fueled by prime rib, wine, and Christmas cheer.

With bellies full of goat meat...er, I mean beautifully prepared prime rib, we made our way to the sacred area for the gift exchange. Many lovely things were unwrapped as Maura wallowed in the scraps of paper and bows. Before her lie a generous offering of neatly wrapped gifts which awaited their undoing.

Everybody got everything they wanted and more, and we knew it was only a matter of time before Ms. Maura got into the liquor cabinet.

At some point during the next couple days something dreadful happened to our van. Whatever the cause, it soon became apparent that the engine no longer held oil. With 240 miles ahead of us, the prospect of getting home without major repairs seemed doubtful, while the familiar trip home grew ever daunting. After filling up with oil (one quart of which being a $10 "stop leak" formula) we set out on the first leg of the drive. Forty five miles later we stopped for lunch and a status check in Dubuque, at which point we made a grim discovery. There was absolutely no oil on the dipstick, meaning we went through five quarts of oil in less than fifty miles.

Not good.

We grabbed a couple quarts here and there along the way until we got to the Prarie du Chien Wal-Mart where I proceeded to buy four five quart jugs for the drive home. At one point while stopped at a gas station for a complete oil fill up I tried to clean off the rear window with the squeegee/sponge wand only to find it completely oil-covered, thus coating the sponge for the next guy to smear across his windshield. Crap. Seemed like that was the theme for the trip, because I'm sure people were probably spinning off into the ditch behind us as we literally dumped thirty gallons of motor oil onto the highway. With the awareness that comes with being a complete stress-ball and the diligent use of the tripometer, we managed to dock the Valdez in the garage until further inspection.

Aside from wishing I would've asked for a barrel of oil for Christmas, everything was great. I hope you all had a wonderfully less eventful holiday. We'll probably play it safe with Seacrest on New Year's Eve.

Of All the Trees Most Lovely

2008-12-04T20:05:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving 2008 is in the books, and another year's worth of blessings have been counted. We, like many others observe the day after Thanksgiving as the first day of the pre-Christmas work-up. It wasn't long until the boxes came out and the house underwent a transformation not unlike something one might see in Whoville. A childlike wonder is restored within me...as in, I wonder how we ended up with all this crap. To all grinches out there that don't particularly care for this time of year, I urge you to check your ~~pulse~~ echocardiogram. Your heart may be two sizes too small.

We used to make a point of picking out a new ornament each year, but that tradition, like many others has gone by the wayside. That doesn't mean that we don't have a copious amount of ornaments, because we do. So this year I've decided to give special attention to a select few and recognize my...

TOP 5 FAVORITE ORNAMENTS

#5

Tiny lil' Wright brothers airplane

A treasured Hallmark collectible, this tiny airplane will soar into your heart, letting your imagination take flight. I can't believe I haven't lost it yet...the ornament, not my poeticism.

Ralph Wiggum eating paste

What a stinker. His cat's breath smells like cat food, his doctor urges him to keep his finger outta his nose...Who among you can't see a little of yourself in this fresh portrait of playfulness?

#3

Santa being pulled by a fish team

The decision to choose this as my yearly ornament all those years ago was just as easy as the decision to include this in my top five. A special place on the tree is always reserved for this incongruous gem.

The Craftsman belt sander

As classic as the star at the top, this ornament may be too abrasive and gritty for some, but I was immediately able to recognize its rugged beauty. Be sure to observe all safety precautions when hanging.

#1

1977 Disney ball ornament

My all time favorite ornament. This is the one I always acknowledged as my ornament and was always the one I had to dig around for when mom was decorating the tree. I don't think this was the first one I'd received, but to me it's the holy grail of ornaments. The treasure that I uncover every year and identify as a key to a historic ritual. Just holding it conjures memories as though it were some type of mystical orb.

Enjoy the holiday!

Opening Day Success

2008-11-23T09:34:00.000-08:00

Maura's first deer hunting experience proved to be fruitful, as her big buck dreams were realized. She waited patiently in the bitterly cold woods, and actually passed up on a couple other nice ones before harvesting this beautiful trophy animal.

After field dressing her kill, she still had about three miles of woods to drag the deer through.

"The fun part's over," she said. "I'll probably be up way past my bedtime cuttin' up this big boy."

Maura at Seven Months

2008-11-22T07:07:00.001-08:00

Quality Local Meats

2008-11-10T21:29:00.000-08:00

When it's time to shoot deer in Wisconsin, a feller really ought to know where to take his animal(s) for processing. Every morning while lying on the couch I'm reminded of a nifty little full service meat market that would be more than capable of handling all of my venison needs. The only problem is that I've been reminded so many times that my focus has now shifted to how the commercial itself has so much room for improvement.

So, of course I took it upon myself to tenderize and beautify this little piglet, with the intention of bringing the blue ribbon back to the Oak Lair. You be the judge.

The original...

The classic.

Smurf Alert!

2008-10-19T19:29:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I've given the people a look at the baby, so allow me to drop the latest video featuring the one and only Chubbz Thunder. In this episode, she's channeling her inner jive turkey, just a twitchin' and a floppin'. Work it out, Maura.

Feral Amish Kids Bent on Mayhem

2008-10-09T17:45:00.000-07:00

Imagine yourself traveling through the midwest, run down buildings and rusty farm equipment occasionally breaking up the monotony of mile after mile of corn lining the highway. Not so much creepy as it is depressing...until you add Amish kids.

YIKES!

Sounds like a great recipe for a short story. Someone should write that. Then someone should make a movie based on it. Then someone should make about five sequels. Then someone should do a remake based on the original short story...in my home town.

Wait a minute, I've just been told that all of my aforementioned suggestions are too late.

That's right, my home town of Lost Nation, Iowa was selected as a filming location for the upcoming Sci-Fi Channel exclusive "Children of the Corn". I don't think any of the town's 500 residents would have ever imagined that their downtown would one day be transformed into a desolate backdrop of ruin for an army of bloodthirsty, self-created orphans. In any event, I'm sure they didn't think it would happen so suddenly.

When Jodi and I rolled into town, what we saw couldn't have been too unlike what the main characters Burt and Vicki saw when they first arrived...a town that had fallen to neglect. As it turns out, grubby little maniac children aren't the best housekeepers. In fact, they pretty much get an F- for effort. It's not for lack of numbers though, as you couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting one. Someone just needs to give them the many hands lighten the load rundown.

So anyway, you get the idea. Old familiar things from my childhood (family grocery store, cyberninja's house) were transformed into horror movie sets much to the chagrin/amusement of the townspeople. Have a look for yourself as I present to you my first feature-length documentary that covers some of the high points of the filming.

Filler

2008-10-06T04:46:00.000-07:00

I know you could easily just go to youtube or hulu yourself, but I'll just save you a step and put all the videos you'll ever need to watch right here on the Lair. I know it's weak, but everyone reads the Cliff Notes at some time or another. I'm sort of gearing up for the next post, so in the meantime, learn a little something about the young Chuck Norris. It's very informative, and you might even find a little humor in it.

Come to Penn State

2008-09-25T19:59:00.001-07:00

The Big 1o Network was added to our cable package this year, so needless to say I've been pretty jazzed about the new opportunities to watch some Iowa Hawkeye football. As it turned out last weekend, the team had a few opportunities of their own, so the highlight of the afternoon for me ended up being this silly Big 10 commercial.

For the most part, all of the coaches are half committed at best to their acting roles, because after all, they're football coaches first and public spokespeople second. But there's one coach who steals the show. JoePa.

How can an 81 year old man continue to motivate players and win bowl games you ask? After seeing how hot the fire still burns in this guy you might just find yourself going to Penn State.

A Trip to the Farm

2008-09-24T17:00:00.000-07:00

Jodi's Aunt and Uncle Wisner tend to a fantastic little slice of God's country in northwest Wisconsin, so naturally we always look forward to visiting. This time the occasion was brought on by the birthday of cousin Trent, which seemed like the perfect excuse to gather the family and celebrate this time of year and the awesome weather that it brings.

Like always, I wish I took more pictures, but they really can't capture the enchantment I feel when I'm at the farm. Rolling fields, beautiful gardens, bee hives...it's a showcase of nature. I actually saw a snake catch and eat a tree frog right outside the front door. By the time I grabbed the camera the frog was but a lump in the snakes throat.

Among other plant varieties there grows a mighty hop vine along the back of one of the buildings. I was allowed to pick till satisfied, much to the delight of Brando, who intends to use the precious ingredient in a future brewing venture. We talked of the dude on the Sam Adams commercial who kind of churns some hops in his hands and then pulls a big whiff off it. Unfortunately there's no smell-o-vision on the Oak Lair, but I can assure you that they posess a very bright bouquet.

What would a trip to the farm be without a pony ride? Believe it or not, this was Mo-chubkin's very first time atop a mighty steed. I think it's clear though that she's a natural, but Jodi still wouldn't let her ride by herself. I know she could do the horse-wheelie thing if given the chance. Hopefully this doesn't spark any kind of "I want a pony" phase later in life.

We wrapped up the afternoon with a titanic clash on the bocce ball field. The rules were bent as they often are, until the game we were playing only loosely resembled this refined sport of gentlemen. We did, however, adhere to a selection of rules, keeping the spirit of the game intact, and we faithfully referred to the target ball by it's proper name, the "pallino"...over and over.

Great is the bounty of the Wisner Farm, which it bestows freely upon all who visit. It's the kind of place that can sustain your body and soul with it's countless riches. Until next time.

Brett Seymour Hoffman

2008-09-20T11:02:00.001-07:00

Here's a comparison you're not likely to see elsewhere...

Brett Favre and Philip Seymour Hoffman.

"Oh please...tell me he didn't just go there."

I watched the movie Capote this morning and found that among other things it's a study of Philip Seymour Hoffman's face. I really enjoyed the movie, don't get me wrong, but it's very much a character study of Truman Capote...and PSH's face.

Last year it would've been out of bounds, blasphemous even to draw such a silly comparison which disparages the regal looks of Favre, but now that he's done us all a favre and checked out, he's pretty much fair game.

Dear Diary

2008-09-14T16:03:00.000-07:00

I knew at the outset that a good percent of the material in this blog was going to be foolish crap, but I don't think anyone really knew what grade of foolish we would be dealing with.

Having no preconceived notions about what I would do, I found myself gravitating toward the film arts. I think a typical oaklair blogpost is much like a gymnastics routine. Everyone pretty much just waits for the high-speed flips and then yawns during the dance elements. The movies are the flips, and my writing is like the filler...to make it appear more blog-like. Anyway, don't ask me what my muse was when I cooked up this particular slice, just take it at face value.

Mini Getaway

2008-09-01T18:23:00.000-07:00

First of all, I hope that everyone soaked up their last deliciously sizzlin' summer weekend. I suppose there could be more sizzlin'...it's only September.

Since we didn't really take a vacation this year, we felt we should at least take a day trip to somewhere quaint and picturesque. We had received a hot tip that there were some pretty interesting places to be seen south of us along the Mississippi, so we set sail for fabulous Fountain City.

First stop on the itinerary was the Monarch Pub. Upon entering this piece of living history it was clear that it had been around for awhile, and that it had been gathering a lot of character over the years. I wish I would have paid more attention to the little tid bits on the walls that explained it's origin and significance to the area. In any event, it was authentic, right down to it's $4.50 beers. I guess that's the price of admission to absorb a dining experience at this museum-like restaurant/pub...savor it.

After eating way more pizza than Kobayashi could even dream of, we figured a good way to burn some calories would be to walk up the street...and I mean UP the street. This thing had to be at about a thirty degree angle, and we thought it sensible to push a baby stroller up it. I kept thinking about how far it would've flown into the river had we accidentally let it go.

Fortunately, we all completed the one block journey and gained about 100 feet in elevation. The struggle would not go unrewarded though, for we soon found ourselves at the geocache I was tracking as well as a beautiful garden through which we were offered a tour.

On the way home we hung a right through some more twisty country in the town of Alma. Buena Vista park was another strongly suggested area of interest that we intended to scope, so we pushed upward towards the summit of this natural wonder, and eventually found ourselves atop one of the best vantage points along the Mississippi River...and I ain't bluffin' *groan*.

A day of travel and exploration on a day that felt like it was pulled from a Bob Ross painting was just what we needed to refresh ourselves. I hope you (the reader) were also able to make the most of your precious Labor Day weekend.

Michael Jackson Turns 70

2008-08-29T11:31:00.000-07:00

...or 50, one of the two.

It's too bad that the name Michael Jackson is now almost synonymous with creepy perv-man. I choose to remember when his sexual ambiguity was still finely tuned and not a bane to his character. When the moonwalk was silky and left us in a trance. Let's just take this moment to search our souls for anything that resembles the admiration that lil' Carlton expresses upon bumping into his doppleganger.

Have a great holiday weekend.

The Games of the XXIX Olympiad

2008-08-11T18:21:00.000-07:00

The Olympics are again upon us, and as a staunch proponent of human achievement, I'm fully on board. I love the flippin' and jabbin' and everything that goes along with the wide variety of events that are on display. My only regret is that I don't make the effort to tune in at 3 a.m. when people are shooting stuff and getting judo chopped.

I haven't done a lot of research about the Olympic games, but I'm sure that at the conception of it they were primarily created as a chance for people to demonstrate some sort of survival/combat skill when there was no particular reason to kill anyone at the time. There are probably a few exceptions, but for the most part you're attacking someone or getting attacked. Fencing is my favorite example. It sort of forces the loser to think, "Man, I wouldn't want that to happen to me for real."

I like to speculate about what certain events could possibly be simulating. Archery and other shooting events are clearly representing some sort of deadly prowess, but what's with the watery hurdles in the steeplechase? It's like, "We don't want you to develop the same kind of rhythm you would in regular hurdles, we almost want you to forget there are hurdles at all until WHAP....SPLOOSH!" It makes me think of fleeing from a crime through a bunch of people's yards.

Seinfeld says it best.

Ridiculous Photoshop medley...

"Oooh, I want a $5 footlong!"

"I bit my tongue."

Get a Room

2008-08-02T07:38:00.000-07:00

If there is one gripe I have about our neighborhood it would probably be the loose attitude toward public displays of varmint affection. These teenage squirrels get all juiced up on hormones and all discretion goes straight out the window. I'll tell you right now that the video you're about to see may shock you. You may find this to be adorable or you may think it is absolutely horrible. You may span the entire spectrum of emotion several times in just one viewing. Whatever the case, you'll be changed forever...or you'll again wish you had your two minutes back.

Precious Paparazzi Pix

2008-07-23T20:43:00.000-07:00

It was a cool, overcast Wednesday night a couple months ago when our co-ed crew of volleyball warriors was assembled around a picnic table rating our most recent performance and sizing up other teams in the B bracket, when I realized that I was in the presence of someone special.

Had no one else seen him yet? Surely people recognized him, I mean he's been in a lot of movies...movies that target the exact demographic that this area is crawling with. Whatever the case, it was clear that the important thing was to settle down, shake off the excitement, and snap a couple of hot pixxx.

Part ninja, part paparazzo, I pretended to fiddle with a friends camera as if to be thinking, "Huh, pretty cool camera. Lemme check out summa these sweet features." But under that dopey appearance I was as focused and intense as a laser beam as I framed up my subject with the cunning and poise one would expect from a TMZ assassin.

What did I end up with? A couple of mediocre pictures of a guy that my friends and I kinda think looks like Will Ferrell. I wonder if he drives a Dodge Stratus.

Stay classy San Diego.

Shut Up and Dance

2008-07-15T15:22:00.000-07:00

The other day I started writing this impassioned post about the home run derby that I just watched on tv, the thrust of it being that one of my favorite players won it and nobody gave a crap. Basically just taking it altogether too seriously.

Meh. Aren't you glad I didn't finish it?

Instead of getting wrapped around the axle with all of that, I figured I should stick with what I do best.

Dance.

Saturday (Friday) in the Park

2008-07-06T16:44:00.000-07:00

With a couple of days off work, I was invited to take part in one of Jodi and Maura's favorite activities; a stroll at Irvine Park. They saw it as an opportunity to stretch their legs and mark out a good pace while I felt the time would be better spent farting around with our camera with the intention of producing another slice of cinematic gold for the Lair.

Truth be told, I probably got the best workout as I hopped from benches to rocks, sprinting ahead and up hills to get the shots you deserve. I think you'll be glad that I demanded everything and compromised nothing in the creation of this summer blockbuster. Actually, I think you'll probably wish there was some way I could refund the three minutes you spent watching it.

Fireworks and Complete Jerks

2008-07-04T05:30:00.000-07:00

Today is a holiday that may remind you to pledge allegiance to our country, and with this opportunity I would like to pledge to you that I will continue to bring you the finest, most exclusive stories you'll find on the internet. This is not one of those stories, however, this is but a promise.

I would also like to give a couple of birthday shouts to a couple of brothers from altogether different mothers (different from each other's and different from mine). Happy birthday to Superchad and happy birthday to the sensei of the Brandodojo.

Go me. It's muh birfday.

Superchad is getting a little anxious as his visit with Santa is growing ever stale.

Enjoy the holiday.

Kickball; the Sport of Kings

2008-06-21T09:02:00.000-07:00

The other day I was invited to fill in on a kickball team. Supposedly a bunch of the regular players couldn't make it, but I think the real reason is that they had been told that kickball had been cancelled, so that superior players like myself could jump into the roster and hit the field running.

I knew it was gonna be fun, but I also knew we faced extreme odds fielding a team of only six players. Fortunately, this was a hand-picked, elite squad of kicking fury, so needless to say we weren't scurred.

We steadily drove in runs through the first few innings by playing smart, fundamental kickball...driving it at the girls who looked like they didn't want to muss their hair (did I mention this is co-ed kickball?). The following video is a perfect example of how I personally overcame adversity at a pivotal moment in the game.

But alas, all of our steam was released as our defense faltered and our muscles stiffened. The opposing team of buzzed-up thirty-somethings found a way to manufacture runs late in the affair to overtake our game-long lead. Despite a tough loss, our patchwork band of warriors exited the arena with heads held high, pleased with the display of sportsmanship, integrity, and self-respect.

On a Mission for Free Fishin'

2008-06-09T19:29:00.000-07:00

Was the mission successful? I'll get to that in a moment. What's far more worthy of mention is the visit we were paid by a certain beautiful Iowan couple. Brando and Kimbo. We had much to catch up on, so we got right to it...and talked ourselves hoarse.

Burning $600 worth of gasoline tends to leave a traveler weary, so the men grunted around a fire with booze on ice while the ladies caught up on all the latest needlepoint techniques and Riunites...so nice.

There were also gifts delivered straight off the assembly line of Brandodojo craft brewery...

We had the first taste of Honey Wheat.

Now for the big fish story you've all been waiting for. We shook off a couple of junior varsity hangovers and got our shows on the road at the crack of 10:30. We packed up our deadliest tackle, listened to some attempted discouragement from my neighbor as we loaded up the canoe, and headed to Bloomer.

I have eaten many pies from the fabled Main Street Cafe, but I had never actually taken the pilgrimage to this mecca of wholesomeness. I took advantage of the "special" for a scant $1.99 while my counterpart ordered something that was called like the Lumberjammer or the Farmhand...or the Beekeeper. At any rate, it was like a special with bacon.

Then pie.

Much as we could've drank coffees and rotted away in there all day, we knew there were fish to slay. So we pushed on to Marsh-Miller Lake, home of beer-flavored marshmallows. We got the canoe off the car and avoided disaster as we launched onto the fish-impregnated waters. The hours wore on as we continued our assault on the lake. Surely a fish would bite...surely they know the arrangement. But much to our chagrin, the only thing we took from Marsh-Miller were the memories of a special canoe ride and brutal sunburn. No big whoop, we had plenty of food at home that was more than fit for consumption.

Here we are, talking it out over a couple of beers at the local resort. "Fishing doesn't make the man." we assured each other.

And of course, there was Maura time.

The End.

Pleasant Temps with Scattered Gunfire

2008-06-02T04:52:00.000-07:00

The weather this weekend was spectacular and I tried to be ready to make use of it, so bright and early Saturday morning my home-skillet Scott and myself hit the rifle range.

He had just acquired a deadly Browning A-bolt .22 (sadly no picture) and still had the itch to shoot it, and I just wanted to squeeze a few through my trusty Ruger 10-22.

I didn't test myself this time...just sort of plinked away at a high rate. Before we left though, I stuck a target to the 50 yard marker and carefully directed 10 rounds at it.

Not terrible I guess.

Sunday we hit the geocache scene in Eau Claire and did a little treasure hunting. It was a beautiful day for a little exercise and photography, and Punky-Wunks was as well-behaved as we could've reasonably hoped for. I'll take a weekend like that any day of the week.

Garden Like a Rock Star

2008-05-22T19:45:00.000-07:00

I've always liked the idea of having a garden, but as the folks on HGTV will tell you, it's not something you can half-ass. You basically have to work the shovel till your arm's sore. I don't know what happened...I must've tapped into some dad power or something, but what follows is something that people who know me might find very uncharacteristic.

In years past I've put together gardens, but always found a way to shrivel the hardiest plants. The watering schedule would be neglected, the weeds would take over...basically no tlc was administered at all.

This year is different. The land is going to produce for me, and I'll tell you why. If you work the land, the land WORKS. That's the key...never mind that I just made that up now. What I've actually done is prepared things more carefully this time around. I've gotten my ducks in a row if you will. Here's how it all shakes out.

As you can see, I've covered all of the essentials. No more paying outrageous prices for specialty items at the grocery store or fireworks stand. In a few short months I'll be laughing all the way to the garden.

I decided to break ground between a couple of old clothesline poles. Not only was it a good size and a nice flat surface, the poles would serve as good support for the mini pergolas I hoped to build.

Take note of that pile of crap on the ground. Those were as many roots as I could stand pulling out of the ground...a little oversight having deemed this the best spot for a garden.

Here's Dana and myself assembling the aforementioned pergolas.

Fried dirt cakes...and dirt on the cob! Eh, eh?

These dusty old bits of lumber were so corkscrewed I'm surprised I was able to get them to behave at all. I really had to tighten the screws on their failure to conform.

The most important crop of all, and quite possibly the main thrust of this entire project is the hops. Oak Lair Hops will be a prominent supplier for Brandodojo Brewery going forward. Why else would I labor so diligently, so fervently, so tenaciously on trellises. If you nurture the hops, the hops will nurture you.

...to be continued.

More-a Maura

2008-05-10T16:57:00.000-07:00

Alright, I told myself this wasn't going to be a baby blog, but two posts is a trend, so I've already got some work ahead of me if I plan to restore any dudely order to the Lair. There will be plenty of time to chronicle all of the other facets of my life, but for now I'm just going to try to be sensitive to all of the developments on the baby front.

There isn't really that much to report lately, aside from her increasing ability to eat and fill diapers well. She sleeps a lot, but when she's not sleeping she is incredibly calm...serene even. She makes enough faces to keep us entertained, and I have a feeling it's only gonna get more entertaining.

She's a pretty good kid.

Firsts

2008-05-02T11:14:00.000-07:00

First blog, first post, and oh yeah...first baby.

I know that too much shouldn't be made of the unveiling of this blog. After all, I'll probably do it for a couple of weeks, see something else shiny and drift out to sea. In the meantime though, I offer you an all access pass to the Oak Lair.

About a week and a half ago my wife and I met our daughter for the first time. Throughout the pregnancy there was no shortage of baby/labor/delivery advice and testimony from friends, family, books, tv, etc. I was starting to form a pretty good picture of what it was going to be like as we approached blast off. As it turned out, we could've just gone ahead with our carefree, know-nothing-about-childbirth lifestyle.

Tuesday, April 22nd Jodi woke up with what could be described as a moderate pre-labor discomfort. As the morning wore on, she became more and more uncomfortable, but not in a way that was consistent with contractions described by the books/classes/nurses. At any rate, the pain was becoming pretty hard to ignore, and it was becoming more apparent that we needed to get to the hospi....TTAAAAAUUUGHL!!

Upon arriving (around 8:20 a.m. or so), Jodi was asked to get into the appropriate attire, during which time she was urged to hurry, as she was displaying some all too familiar behaviors. After being helped onto the bed and hooked up to all necessary monitors, it was soon determined that she was pretty much fully dilated. It was at that time that the nurse said something along the lines of, "Get the doctor in here now!"

Until this moment I had wondered about what exactly I was going to be doing during this process. I figured I would be doing some coaching, some massaging...just generally trying to make Jodi a little more comfortable...all the while sitting safely next to her head. I have to admit, though, that the anticipation of this event and all that it involves had me more than a little anxious.

Fortunately for everyone involved, I didn't really have time to get worked up. As it turned out, Jodi had pretty much done all of the work prior to arriving at the hospital. After pushing through one contraction, Maura Kay Bright was introduced to the world about 15 minutes after we checked in. I can't help but think of how it might've gone down had I gotten pulled over on the way. I kinda wish I was able to tell the story of how my kid squirted down mama's pantleg. I should probably be thankful for the way it actually turned out.

Here are some movies I whipped up...