Good morning all. Heck maybe its evening as you’re reading this but you understand the gist of my greeting, ehh.
Been damn near snowed in for a while here. Damn storm came up from the southwest all full of moisture and it hit a cold front coming down from Siberia, or somewhere, right over the cabin for shits sake. Never seen anything like it around here before – snowing like crazy with wind – blizzard conditions I’m telling you, you guys. And the strangest ass thing about it was the thunder and lightning. You usually don’t see that kind of bizarre meteorological behavior around here in the dead of winter. Must a dumped a couple of feet of a heavy wet mess. Great for snowballs but really sucked otherwise.
It definitely just destroyed the ice down at the pond. Once we get some sub zero weather again, and after we shovel it off, that top surface layer is going to look like that porous lava rock that I’ve seen in museums. Ain’t worth a horse turd for skating on.
But its Sunday and I’ve been looking at the local paper. Sort of a ritual, sipping coffee and waiting for the honey to get up and laugh at me about making some breakfast. But it’s what I do, in the winter, sit around the fire with my rag to read and a cup of joe to clear out the cobwebs. How about you guys? What’s your weekend morning routine like? I always put up a thankful blessing request to the Good Lord for the cabin we have. Makes for some sweet coziness.
The fire’s popping cuz I put in some nasty old knots – makes it kinda exciting you know and the honey has now joined me. She asks me why I’m all dressed up. It’s a joke. Cuz I’m still lounging around in my light grey union suit. Winter time that’s my sleeping gear. Don’t usually use em for hockey. There it’s a t-shirt and long johns under my gear. But sleeping and hangin around the cabin on weekend mornings I gotta have my union suit on. Buttons up in front and’s got a flap in back. Now days it seems everbody’s in sweats and hoodies but mercy if Sears & Roebucks, Woolworths, Monkey Wards, and JC Pennys weren’t selling these look before the sweat sets ever got invented.
The honey says, “Jasper, you weren’t wearing those when you went out to the road to pick up the paper again were you. You don’t know what might been flapping out.”
I said, “Well, yes, I sure for shit was and you know as well as I do that there ain’t much left to flap about anyway. I just slipped on my boots and that old red stocking cap and high stepped it out there to get it. Plus as I usually do, I faced back towards the cabin when I bent over to pick it up giving old Agnes McGhee a nice peek of my hiney if she’s so inclined to look.”
“She can’t see you from there, you old fool of a fart.”
“Oh yes she can, and she does. I’ve seen that pair of binoculars sitting on the window sill over her kitchen sink when we’ve been to visit. That old bitty spies on me all the time from her little perch of a stool in the kitchen. Stinky even said that she’s hired him to clean brush that was blocking her view of the end of our drive.”
“She’s a nice old lady, now shut your trap!”
“Yup, she’s a nice old frustrated lady, uh yup.”
The conversation dies on that note and I’m back to my paper.
But I’m thinking what do you guys think? Should a grown man run around in his underwear? I mean, the alternative is to run around naked, right? I sure for shit am not a bathrobe type guy. What a waste of fabric, ehh.
I hear some noise outside, sounds like Stinky’s truck and then some. He said that he was going to come over later to move some snow from between the cabin and the barn for me. Damn, it’ll be nice when I can finish my basement and dig that tunnel between it and the barn.
I get up to see about Stinky Duvall and pour him a fresh cup of joe. He seems to be a happy camper today. He made some good money clearing snow cuz of the storm and he tells me that he made himself one haulin-ass snow blower. So figurin that I’ll be outside for a while I throw on my parka for this excursion.
We get out to his truck and back on the trailer is some hacked up piece a machinery like ya might a seen in one of Mel Gibson’s early Aussy movies.
“What the fuck is that, Paul?” I query and spit.
He gets a bit excited explaining it to me. “Well, it’s the front end of Craftsman forty inch snow blower that some one brought out to the yard last spring that I married to the back end of that old Honda Blackhawk that Alan Oveson used to have. I had to re-gear that pup so that it runs in reverse direction, and only first gear.”
“Well that’s one hell of a contraption.” I respond as I walk around the trailer looking it over kind a careful like. “What’s all this other shit?”
“I had to cut the turning stops off of the front end so that I could turn the handle bars backwards, pulled the front wheel off and attached a broken snow board that I fixed with epoxy to the forks that I extended. I can stand right on it while I’m blowing snow, self-propelled.”
I said, “Yup, all ya need now is a fairing from a Gold-Wing and you’re all set!”
“Jasp, ya musta been reading my mind!” He gets even more worked up over this touch of genius. “See how I extended the rear axle so that I’ve got the sprocket there to drive the blower in between the two wheels. Yup. Added a second wheel back there, I mean on the front of it. I mean, you know what I mean. And I shot over a hundred Hilti pins through the rims to provide good traction. No tires, you can see.”
“Yup, Paul, I think you’ve got the ultimate death machine here if anybody gets in front of you. You ought to apply for a job with Toro or maybe them folks at Zamboni. Get a job in their design department, ehh.”
“Shit Jasper, I just pieced it together. Oh, and look up here at the front of the blower. I added a couple of busted up goalie sticks on each side to help funnel more snow into it. Ain’t it something?”
“Yup, but does it blow snow?” The snorkel was laying down but it looked like it was about six or seven feet long and about a foot in diameter.
“Or shit yes, Wheats. I added a Dayton DC motor-blower combo into the pipe that your brother Bronzy gave me. Had to add a truck battery to run it, but I had a ton of them at the yard. Let me fire it up and clean that section back to the barn for you.”
So he fires this thing-a-ma-jig up. And ohhh, did I mention he was running it with open pipes I think. Louder then a friggin jet engine. Guess he had hydraulics for the snorkel cuz that pup went up smooth as can be with out even a bit of a snag. And off he went. He cleared what must a been close to an acre of open space in a little less then a half hour. At first it looked like a blizzard again but he started in the middle and worked the north side first blowing to the north then did the other half blowing to the south. Slick-titty-boom. But I think I lost my hearing.
“What ya think, Jasper?”
“Huh? I can hardly hear you. Pretty sweet! But awfully damn noisy. You wearing ear plugs?”
He pulls some stuff outta his coat pocket and shows me his shooting muffs and foam plugs both. “Double protection.” He’s walking with wood. Purty damn proud of this snow beast.
“How about your customer’s ears?”
He just shrugs his shoulders.
I invite him in for something more to drink.
We go inside and I microwave a couple of half mugs of eggnog and top em off half and half with some no-name peach brandy and Cap’n Morgan’s. Good shit for this time of year if ya ain’t playin hockey but just fartin around.
Each of us taking sips I grab the paper again. Damn if there ain’t some fool ad for 20% off for exchanging fluids. Sounds like a pick up line if ya ask me. I show it to Paul and he about does a reverse-through-the-nose chuckle.
He asks, “What the heck, is that an ad for a hooker or something?”
I yell to the honey, she’s in the bedroom I guess, “Sugar, me and Stinky are going down to Meg’s. Seems as that skank whore Annie-Poo that hangs out there is running a 20% off special on exchanging body fluids. We can’t pass this up.”
Wise-ass that she is she yells back, “Paul I can’t speak for you but that old fart Jasper better not have a spare drop of fluid left in him after that romp I gave him last night. You keep your tail-end right here, you hear me, Jasper Wheats.”
“Shit honey, it was just an ad that we were looking at for Ole’s Garage over in Patterson. He’s sure going to catch some crap for the way he had it worded.”
“Well you’re going to catch some crap if ya don’t bring in some more firewood. Give Paul something for clearing the snow and send him on his way. Ok?”
I walk Paul back out to his truck and suggest that he head down to the pond if he gets a chance and clear it off. If we have to then will bore a hole like we did a couple of years ago and use that gasoline powered pump to flood it over again on the next sub zero night.
Good stuff here in the North Woods. Wish ya could be here to enjoy it!
Until next time, Jasper here - walking with wood.
Showing posts with label pond hockey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pond hockey. Show all posts
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Sunday, January 6, 2008
REDZONIANS
Everybody get off to a good start so far this year? Shit, you can count on it here that I’ve done damned good-ok so far. Yupper and the year is only six days old, uh huh.
I pretty much figure that there were a few holiday tournaments that some of ya played in. You guys know how I feel about them. They’re right up there with pond hockey and road trips in my book (crap, over half of ‘em are road trips, ehh). Love every minute of them. Ya meet some cool folks and if ya get in a winning bracket you definitely get your share of games played. Hooie, maybe ya even play more then one game a day. Your gear doesn’t get a chance to dry and ends up smelling pretty ripe and all. You juggle your eating and sleeping habits a bit – all for some great days of playing.
I guess it doesn’t really matter throughout the year if it’s a holiday tournament, summer tournament or an invitational – they’re all good times. Ehh?
You win some but mainly you end up losing. It’s a select few that manage to hang together for the final victory and get to take home the trophy.
Hell, I’ve played in tournaments where we played in that final game only to lose. The teams that I’ve played on of course haven’t take losing lightly. On occasion, we’ve taken offense to that final handshake with just a smattering of fisticuffs instead.
Don’t shake your head at that. You know as well as I do that a good donnybrook is as memorable as a win. I’m thinkin that if ya disagree still, it just means that ya ain’t been there and ya ain’t done that.
Over the past few years I’ve done some researchin about why we have had so damn many losses along the way. More often then not there has been one team that just plain ass kicks tail on everyone else. Why? I mean, really, why? You know the usual responses that ya hear are “They’re a stacked team” or “They’re all former pros.” I’m sure you guys have heard the same questionable comments.
Yah, occasionally that may be the case.
But I’ve determined through some highly scientific analysis that that just ain’t true most a the time. If ya got just one particular team that just whoops on everybody, then ya got yourself a team of aliens playing in that tournament! No shit! No shineola! Aliens, dab-nab-it! And I ain’t talking about them illegal aliens that have jumped the fence to enter our borders. Nope. These dude’s are outer-space type aliens.
You’re thinking: that dude Jasper, has got a gear loose.
But I don’t. I’m tellin ya. I got the inside scoop on some classified government files that a friend of my brother’s friend’s friend, etc. managed to illegally extract off the internet. Its some valid honest to goodness shit.
These winning teams always show up and are registered from some far distant land that ya can’t even pronounce and have even less of a chance verifying. Like Skukumchuck, or Khatanga, or Olekminsk or maybe Thibaudeau. Where the hell are these places? How’d these guys get here to this hockey tournament, ehh?
I’m tellin ya that they aren’t from those places. They’re from someplace beyond our solar system. Guaranteed, that if you played in a tournament where one team overwhelmingly kicked everybody else’s ass then you’re also going to have some local reports of UFOs. Check it out. Do your own research, ehh. You’ll see.
According to the classified files, these weenies have been showing up for some years to compete in our sporting events. They like the competition I guess and as of late with all the identity theft issues and the modern security controls in place the tournaments are the only places that they can play. They’ve had a few guys that have played in the NHL over the years but they don’t really excel individually. This wasn’t discovered until Gretzky was in the league. The NSA thought that he might have been an alien that had been implanted in his family as an infant. Their reasoning for the study was that he was such a superstar yet was really a physical weakling (everybody knows that his upper body strength was always the weakest of any player on the teams that he played on). They couldn’t figure it out, but used him for some of the initial testing experiments.
The government has spent many years now developing an accurate test to determine whether someone is an alien or not. It used to be a blood test but most of the time you couldn’t get a decent blood sample unless there was a high stick injury or the results of an errant puck and a player’s face. I mean ya just can’t arbitrarily ask some one for a blood sample, can you? So they developed something else. Something that could be a little more indiscernible in its administration. They came up with a urine analysis.
All government employees and contractors that have security clearances now have to daily take this test to ensure that aliens haven’t infiltrated our secure ranks. The modern device is fairly similar to an EPT (early pregnancy test) and all ya have to do is piss on it. The chemical activation system on test strips, kind a like litmus paper, unfortunately, also indicates if you’re on steroids. If your piss turns the strip a shade of blue then, honey, you’ve been doing the juice. But if a red hue appears then you’re an f’n alien.
Like I said though, this handy little testing device is used within government ranks. When they want to check on the common public then they use a version that looks like a toilet bowl deorderizer. It comes in a couple of different forms: one with a wire hanger that can be hung over the edge of the bowl and one that looks like a hockey puck that is generally just dropped in urinals. Both version, prior to testing, are just a milky white color. But once they’ve been activated they either turn pinkish if an alien pissed on it or bluish if someone doing steroids whizzed on it. If I drizzled all over one of these detectors not a damn thing would happen.
So the next tournament that ya play in you might just be able to tell if you’ve got aliens or guys on steroids playing against ya by just checking in the can. If the NSA guys are on to some alien leads, and one team in the tourney is just creaming everybody else, then chances are you’ll notice the detection devices in use.
Word is, from that friend of a friend dude, that the government guys refer to the filthy rich pro athletes on steroids as “Bluebloods” because of the revealing color on the indicators.
“Redzonians”, apparently is the nickname that they’ve given to the aliens. The only time that I actually heard the term “Redzonian”, I thought he guy talking was referring to a guy on the ice that was playing just balls out with no fear. Guess I was wrong, ehh.
I pretty much believe all this shit and I don’t give a rat’s ass whether you do or not. But I’ve got one thing that I can’t figure out about these “Redzonians”. I mean they’re sure walking with wood, ehh? Kicking our asses from one end of the rink to the other. So here it is: How’d they learn how to play so damn good?
Jasper here walking with wood, but just bloody bewildered.
I pretty much figure that there were a few holiday tournaments that some of ya played in. You guys know how I feel about them. They’re right up there with pond hockey and road trips in my book (crap, over half of ‘em are road trips, ehh). Love every minute of them. Ya meet some cool folks and if ya get in a winning bracket you definitely get your share of games played. Hooie, maybe ya even play more then one game a day. Your gear doesn’t get a chance to dry and ends up smelling pretty ripe and all. You juggle your eating and sleeping habits a bit – all for some great days of playing.
I guess it doesn’t really matter throughout the year if it’s a holiday tournament, summer tournament or an invitational – they’re all good times. Ehh?
You win some but mainly you end up losing. It’s a select few that manage to hang together for the final victory and get to take home the trophy.
Hell, I’ve played in tournaments where we played in that final game only to lose. The teams that I’ve played on of course haven’t take losing lightly. On occasion, we’ve taken offense to that final handshake with just a smattering of fisticuffs instead.
Don’t shake your head at that. You know as well as I do that a good donnybrook is as memorable as a win. I’m thinkin that if ya disagree still, it just means that ya ain’t been there and ya ain’t done that.
Over the past few years I’ve done some researchin about why we have had so damn many losses along the way. More often then not there has been one team that just plain ass kicks tail on everyone else. Why? I mean, really, why? You know the usual responses that ya hear are “They’re a stacked team” or “They’re all former pros.” I’m sure you guys have heard the same questionable comments.
Yah, occasionally that may be the case.
But I’ve determined through some highly scientific analysis that that just ain’t true most a the time. If ya got just one particular team that just whoops on everybody, then ya got yourself a team of aliens playing in that tournament! No shit! No shineola! Aliens, dab-nab-it! And I ain’t talking about them illegal aliens that have jumped the fence to enter our borders. Nope. These dude’s are outer-space type aliens.
You’re thinking: that dude Jasper, has got a gear loose.
But I don’t. I’m tellin ya. I got the inside scoop on some classified government files that a friend of my brother’s friend’s friend, etc. managed to illegally extract off the internet. Its some valid honest to goodness shit.
These winning teams always show up and are registered from some far distant land that ya can’t even pronounce and have even less of a chance verifying. Like Skukumchuck, or Khatanga, or Olekminsk or maybe Thibaudeau. Where the hell are these places? How’d these guys get here to this hockey tournament, ehh?
I’m tellin ya that they aren’t from those places. They’re from someplace beyond our solar system. Guaranteed, that if you played in a tournament where one team overwhelmingly kicked everybody else’s ass then you’re also going to have some local reports of UFOs. Check it out. Do your own research, ehh. You’ll see.
According to the classified files, these weenies have been showing up for some years to compete in our sporting events. They like the competition I guess and as of late with all the identity theft issues and the modern security controls in place the tournaments are the only places that they can play. They’ve had a few guys that have played in the NHL over the years but they don’t really excel individually. This wasn’t discovered until Gretzky was in the league. The NSA thought that he might have been an alien that had been implanted in his family as an infant. Their reasoning for the study was that he was such a superstar yet was really a physical weakling (everybody knows that his upper body strength was always the weakest of any player on the teams that he played on). They couldn’t figure it out, but used him for some of the initial testing experiments.
The government has spent many years now developing an accurate test to determine whether someone is an alien or not. It used to be a blood test but most of the time you couldn’t get a decent blood sample unless there was a high stick injury or the results of an errant puck and a player’s face. I mean ya just can’t arbitrarily ask some one for a blood sample, can you? So they developed something else. Something that could be a little more indiscernible in its administration. They came up with a urine analysis.
All government employees and contractors that have security clearances now have to daily take this test to ensure that aliens haven’t infiltrated our secure ranks. The modern device is fairly similar to an EPT (early pregnancy test) and all ya have to do is piss on it. The chemical activation system on test strips, kind a like litmus paper, unfortunately, also indicates if you’re on steroids. If your piss turns the strip a shade of blue then, honey, you’ve been doing the juice. But if a red hue appears then you’re an f’n alien.
Like I said though, this handy little testing device is used within government ranks. When they want to check on the common public then they use a version that looks like a toilet bowl deorderizer. It comes in a couple of different forms: one with a wire hanger that can be hung over the edge of the bowl and one that looks like a hockey puck that is generally just dropped in urinals. Both version, prior to testing, are just a milky white color. But once they’ve been activated they either turn pinkish if an alien pissed on it or bluish if someone doing steroids whizzed on it. If I drizzled all over one of these detectors not a damn thing would happen.
So the next tournament that ya play in you might just be able to tell if you’ve got aliens or guys on steroids playing against ya by just checking in the can. If the NSA guys are on to some alien leads, and one team in the tourney is just creaming everybody else, then chances are you’ll notice the detection devices in use.
Word is, from that friend of a friend dude, that the government guys refer to the filthy rich pro athletes on steroids as “Bluebloods” because of the revealing color on the indicators.
“Redzonians”, apparently is the nickname that they’ve given to the aliens. The only time that I actually heard the term “Redzonian”, I thought he guy talking was referring to a guy on the ice that was playing just balls out with no fear. Guess I was wrong, ehh.
I pretty much believe all this shit and I don’t give a rat’s ass whether you do or not. But I’ve got one thing that I can’t figure out about these “Redzonians”. I mean they’re sure walking with wood, ehh? Kicking our asses from one end of the rink to the other. So here it is: How’d they learn how to play so damn good?
Jasper here walking with wood, but just bloody bewildered.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
HASH
Hey, you guys. Sorry I missed ya last week. Just have been ’streamly busy with my real job. I’ve had to travel a quite a bit recently and then had problems with the company vehicle that really clobbered the old gumption to tell ya a new story here. Besides work, Christmas is fast approaching and the season makes my mind wonder a bit. Start thinking about the old days, ehh, and holiday hockey out on the pond again. Those were the times! You guys can relate to that?
But I’ve also been really tied up in an old rag knot with a new endeavor. I’ll be teaching a university class this spring and have to do a lot prep shit for that too. With all that’s going on I sure hope that someday I’ll have sacked away enough money that the honey and me can afford to quit milkin the cows, if ya know what I mean.
So here goes this week’s trip into my world. Hang on, cuz I sure hope ya got an appetite for some excitement and dad-burn foolishness.
HASH - you’re familiar with the word, ehh? Yah. A shortened version of the word hashish that Webster says is “unadulterated resin from the flowering tops of the female hemp plant that is smoked, chewed or drunk for its intoxicating effect.”
Oh yeah!
Put it simply it’s the illegal drug that the youth of world toked up in bongs and hash pipes long before all this chemical crap got invented that kids are getting fucked up on nowadays. Yup, it’s the flowering sap from pot plants. A smelly, brownish, little turd looking substance that’ll get ya high.
Experience says it works. But my drugs of choice these days only include the caffeine in my coffee or cola pops, alcohol in my beerskies (or during this Holiday Season a little Irish Cream and Kahlua), prescription meds that the doc gives me to let me live to a ripe ass age, and ibuprofen for all my ding-dang aches and pains.
But in the day I wasn’t no panty-waist. I did the shit. Makes me wonder, though, thinking back a few years that how much I enjoyed the morphine after they replaced my hip. Just surprised that I didn’t end up a geezed out street druggy instead of the upstanding old fart that I am today.
But back to HASH, ehh. Like pot, it gives ya the munchies. Now the munchies are something we can probably talk about. You guys really know what I mean here, ehh? I mean come on, you’ve seen that Jack in the Box commercial where the dude is trying to figure out what to order and he’s talking to the bobble head Jack on the dash of his van … “Yeahhhh….. That’sss what I wasss thinkinnnn.” Sure for shit when ya got the munchies ya just gotta eat. That’s it! Flat as a pancake and time to scarf.
Well, I’ll be damned if I don’t wake up with the munchies every morning. Don’t you?
Its been that way since I was a fool kid not even tall enough to look over the kitchen table. I can remember a time when I was just a little tike and Mom had fixed chili for dinner. I wouldn’t eat it. She kept me sitting at the table until bedtime and then had me sit with that cold bowl of chili in front of me in the morning too. I wouldn’t eat it - no way - no how. I didn’t like chili and I sure for shit didn’t like anything with tomatoes in it back then. Sure I was starving big time. Munchies galore.
Being a bit pissed off while I was sitting there, I poured all the salt from the shaker into the sugar bowl and later on when Mom finally relented and let me have a bowl of Cheerios I plumb forgot. Egads - that was the biggest waste of breakfast cereal that ever happened in my lifetime I’m sure.
Breakfast is the stuff of life. Cures that morning munchy and leaves ya set for the day, ehh. A good breakfast and ya can be walking with wood all day long.
When I was a kid, cold cereal was definitely the standard. Cheerios first then I moved on to Wheaties. General Mills products - good stuff from a good company. They sponsored my Babe Ruth baseball team (wished it had been my hockey team, ehh). Now that’s a story. Had that big G on my uniform. Wanted to be a catcher but the coach’s son played that position. Fat chance for that opportunity. I must have really sucked anyway cuz I only got to play in one game and that was for the opposing team on an account they didn’t have enough guys show up. A real ego booster - that was - Babe Ruth Baseball. Huh?
It was always a real treat if we got sugar coated cereals when I was kid. But occasionally we would get some Frosted Flakes, Sugar Pops, AlphaBits or Sugar Smacks. Mmmmm mmmmm mmmm! I sure loved those sweet morning bowls filled to the brim with milk.
My school buddy, Girbin, just loved those Sugar Smacks and the old sugar bear that they used in the advertisements. We’d get nuts-o after school eating a bowl or two together.
Coulda been a sugar fiend I guess too, if not a morphine addict. Maybe most of us were. Some of us still are. Gotta have our fix.
Mom was pretty strict about that sugar consumption though. Or at least with me anyway. Around the time Jingles and Bronzy were around she musta lightened up a bit. Damn, they ate Cap’n Crunch. Is it still around? I don’t know. Turned the milk yellow in the bowl and I think it was 40 to 60 percent sugar. Each of em used to eat a whole box for breakfast. You didn’t have to add more milk - just add more cereal. Poor Mom, I’m sure she had to deal with the sugar high that these little junkies took off on.
I still wake up with the munchies every day and I still occasionally fix myself a bowl of cold cereal to remedy that need. ‘Cept now days I start with about a third of a bowl of crisp rice (all generic no name brands any more), a sliced up half a banana, a third a bowl of wheat bran, a couple of table spoons of raisins, and then topping out the bowl with some sugar coated corn flakes. All that scrunched down to make room for that good old 2% milk. Good stuff, Maynard! You’re set for the day after a munchy buster like that.
Now up here in the North Woods that kind a breakfast won’t suit ya too well durin the late fall and winter. Ya don’t want to be puttin too much cold shit in your body so early in the day. Ya need something a little more substantial. Something warm and I ain’t talkin about no damn oatmeal or Malt-O-Meal slop.
Ya need to add some eggs and such to your meal. Now Denny’s, I can vouch for, makes a damn fine breakfast. The Original Grand Slam will suit me just right. Ya get some eggs, pancakes, and choice of meat. Me, I usually go “all bacon and eggs over medium with coffee and a glass of milk with the meal“. Now this meal works great for a morning breakfast, as I figure, my family that hangs out in the city got together again this morning and probably sat down to eight or so orders of Grand Slams this morning. But it also works for filling your gut after a good game of late night hockey and then closing the bar. Done that enough times for sure!
But then there’s my other choice from Denny’s or any other reputable greasy spoon and that’s “bacon and eggs over medium with hash browns, toast and coffee with milk with the meal”. Now Denny’s has a little one up-manship here over others in that they’ll offer their “a thousand assortments of jellies” for your toast (if ya like the three flavors that they’re serving that day - that is). Ya can’t beat it, ehh?
Munchies, uh huh! I sure had them this morning again. I got up pretty early and the honey allows me to make my own breakfast and mess. Its one of the few things that I’ve been able to carry over into marriage from my years of bachelorhood besides hockey.
But it was too damned cold in the cabin to think about cereal. I figured that I’d fire up the stove and make myself something warm, tasty and filling. I checked out the refrigerator and saw that we had eggs. That’s good. Now there might be some leftover red potatoes from the roast beef earlier this week. Yup. That’s good. Now for the meat I see we’ve got some ham, roast beef and meat loaf leftovers, and a bag of salad bacon bits. Hmmm? Looks like the meat loaf and I’ll make some hash.
HASH?
Yup. You guys, it’s the same word - just a different meaning. Now hash as from hashish we know now is a drug, ehh? I don’t know where it gets that “ish” on the end of the word but its probably like Turkish, or English, or Berkleyish; but more then likely it comes from Mendocinoish. I mean cuz like the best shit comes from there, ehh!
But hash for the kitchen fixin, now that’s something else! Again, Webster, my good bud, says “to chop, as in to small pieces; chopped meat mixed with potatoes and browned”. Yeah that’s the stuff!
So, I’m makin some hash you guys. The meatloaf was the heal end out of the pan stuffed into a baggy. I just crumbled that all up while it was still in the baggy. Fired up a large skillet with a mess a olive oil in it. Diced an already cooked red potato and started browning those pups. Dumped in the crumbled meat loaf, diced up a quarter of a bell pepper, kept the fire going and started stirring and flipping. Added a couple of heaping tablespoons of those bacon bits and shook a shit load of black pepper over the top. Smells damn good! Normally I add onions but the meatloaf already had enough in it for my tastes. While this was browning to perfection I got the heat under an egg pan and fried up a couple over medium. All finished I slop the hash on a platter size plate and set the eggs over the top - all to be chopped and mixed up together for a fine morning feast with a little salt and a glass of moo.
Now I use a plastic spatula for flippin the hash in the pan. When the honey makes this or similar dishes like fried potatoes she uses a little wooden thingy. Not quite a wooden spoon and not quite a wooden spatula. I personally hate the thing, but she likes it. After I sort of did my post cooking cleanup I noticed some unusual utensils on the counter that I’d never seen before. The honey must a got them when I was outta town or something. They look like white porcelain but are melamine, whatever the fuck that is, and were made in Thailand if ya can believe that. I had to ask her later where she got them and said she said at the grocery store. I didn’t believe her. They look like they came from a sci-fi store. The first one that I saw kind of looked like a fat tonged table fork with only two tongs. But not really functional as a fork - too fat. What it really looks like is a miniature electronic probe/jabbing gizmo that an alien might have used in Star Trek, Star Wars, or other sci-fi flick. She said its for poking things. I told her, I got the tool for poking things and it sure don’t look like that. This damn thing evens rings when ya tap it, like I said fine porcelain, uh huh. Scary! Now the other utensil looks kind of like a wide blade skinning knife but again that melamine shit. Must be a set or something. Before I talked to her about them I thought, well maybe its new silverware, but if the first one is the fork then this one could be the knife or spoon. Neither too functional. Too flat for a spoon - wouldn’t hold a bit of cereal, and too dull for a knife. She said its for spreading stuff for like icing on a cake. I don’t know though. Could be alien instruments if ya ask me. I’ll have to watch her for a while, ehh.
I’m going to tell ya - hash is a damn good pre-game meal. Ya just wanta make sure that ya scarf it down a couple hours ahead a lacing em up though, cuz it can sit pretty heavy and also cause ya to burp up them peppers and onions. I used to fix it with lard instead of the olive oil like I use now. Moves through ya quite quick that way with the lard and makes ya light for the game if ya know what I mean.
Hash is good fixins for camping too. I fix it for the guys when we go fishin and shit. Makes for a one pot meal that ya can have for breakfast or dinner alike.
I’ve been fixin it for years now, I made it with every kind of meat ya can think of: chicken, fillet mignon, pork chops, ham, steak, hamburger, elk, trout, bacon, leftover sloppy-joe, sausage, turkey dark meat. Its really a “leftover dream meal”.
So here’s the word from Jasper here, ya wanta push a little poop through the shoot and energy up for your pond hockey game tonight in the subzero weather then fix yourself a big old batch of HASH. You’ll be walking with wood like the big boys do!
Keep your sticks down and skate hard!
But I’ve also been really tied up in an old rag knot with a new endeavor. I’ll be teaching a university class this spring and have to do a lot prep shit for that too. With all that’s going on I sure hope that someday I’ll have sacked away enough money that the honey and me can afford to quit milkin the cows, if ya know what I mean.
So here goes this week’s trip into my world. Hang on, cuz I sure hope ya got an appetite for some excitement and dad-burn foolishness.
HASH - you’re familiar with the word, ehh? Yah. A shortened version of the word hashish that Webster says is “unadulterated resin from the flowering tops of the female hemp plant that is smoked, chewed or drunk for its intoxicating effect.”
Oh yeah!
Put it simply it’s the illegal drug that the youth of world toked up in bongs and hash pipes long before all this chemical crap got invented that kids are getting fucked up on nowadays. Yup, it’s the flowering sap from pot plants. A smelly, brownish, little turd looking substance that’ll get ya high.
Experience says it works. But my drugs of choice these days only include the caffeine in my coffee or cola pops, alcohol in my beerskies (or during this Holiday Season a little Irish Cream and Kahlua), prescription meds that the doc gives me to let me live to a ripe ass age, and ibuprofen for all my ding-dang aches and pains.
But in the day I wasn’t no panty-waist. I did the shit. Makes me wonder, though, thinking back a few years that how much I enjoyed the morphine after they replaced my hip. Just surprised that I didn’t end up a geezed out street druggy instead of the upstanding old fart that I am today.
But back to HASH, ehh. Like pot, it gives ya the munchies. Now the munchies are something we can probably talk about. You guys really know what I mean here, ehh? I mean come on, you’ve seen that Jack in the Box commercial where the dude is trying to figure out what to order and he’s talking to the bobble head Jack on the dash of his van … “Yeahhhh….. That’sss what I wasss thinkinnnn.” Sure for shit when ya got the munchies ya just gotta eat. That’s it! Flat as a pancake and time to scarf.
Well, I’ll be damned if I don’t wake up with the munchies every morning. Don’t you?
Its been that way since I was a fool kid not even tall enough to look over the kitchen table. I can remember a time when I was just a little tike and Mom had fixed chili for dinner. I wouldn’t eat it. She kept me sitting at the table until bedtime and then had me sit with that cold bowl of chili in front of me in the morning too. I wouldn’t eat it - no way - no how. I didn’t like chili and I sure for shit didn’t like anything with tomatoes in it back then. Sure I was starving big time. Munchies galore.
Being a bit pissed off while I was sitting there, I poured all the salt from the shaker into the sugar bowl and later on when Mom finally relented and let me have a bowl of Cheerios I plumb forgot. Egads - that was the biggest waste of breakfast cereal that ever happened in my lifetime I’m sure.
Breakfast is the stuff of life. Cures that morning munchy and leaves ya set for the day, ehh. A good breakfast and ya can be walking with wood all day long.
When I was a kid, cold cereal was definitely the standard. Cheerios first then I moved on to Wheaties. General Mills products - good stuff from a good company. They sponsored my Babe Ruth baseball team (wished it had been my hockey team, ehh). Now that’s a story. Had that big G on my uniform. Wanted to be a catcher but the coach’s son played that position. Fat chance for that opportunity. I must have really sucked anyway cuz I only got to play in one game and that was for the opposing team on an account they didn’t have enough guys show up. A real ego booster - that was - Babe Ruth Baseball. Huh?
It was always a real treat if we got sugar coated cereals when I was kid. But occasionally we would get some Frosted Flakes, Sugar Pops, AlphaBits or Sugar Smacks. Mmmmm mmmmm mmmm! I sure loved those sweet morning bowls filled to the brim with milk.
My school buddy, Girbin, just loved those Sugar Smacks and the old sugar bear that they used in the advertisements. We’d get nuts-o after school eating a bowl or two together.
Coulda been a sugar fiend I guess too, if not a morphine addict. Maybe most of us were. Some of us still are. Gotta have our fix.
Mom was pretty strict about that sugar consumption though. Or at least with me anyway. Around the time Jingles and Bronzy were around she musta lightened up a bit. Damn, they ate Cap’n Crunch. Is it still around? I don’t know. Turned the milk yellow in the bowl and I think it was 40 to 60 percent sugar. Each of em used to eat a whole box for breakfast. You didn’t have to add more milk - just add more cereal. Poor Mom, I’m sure she had to deal with the sugar high that these little junkies took off on.
I still wake up with the munchies every day and I still occasionally fix myself a bowl of cold cereal to remedy that need. ‘Cept now days I start with about a third of a bowl of crisp rice (all generic no name brands any more), a sliced up half a banana, a third a bowl of wheat bran, a couple of table spoons of raisins, and then topping out the bowl with some sugar coated corn flakes. All that scrunched down to make room for that good old 2% milk. Good stuff, Maynard! You’re set for the day after a munchy buster like that.
Now up here in the North Woods that kind a breakfast won’t suit ya too well durin the late fall and winter. Ya don’t want to be puttin too much cold shit in your body so early in the day. Ya need something a little more substantial. Something warm and I ain’t talkin about no damn oatmeal or Malt-O-Meal slop.
Ya need to add some eggs and such to your meal. Now Denny’s, I can vouch for, makes a damn fine breakfast. The Original Grand Slam will suit me just right. Ya get some eggs, pancakes, and choice of meat. Me, I usually go “all bacon and eggs over medium with coffee and a glass of milk with the meal“. Now this meal works great for a morning breakfast, as I figure, my family that hangs out in the city got together again this morning and probably sat down to eight or so orders of Grand Slams this morning. But it also works for filling your gut after a good game of late night hockey and then closing the bar. Done that enough times for sure!
But then there’s my other choice from Denny’s or any other reputable greasy spoon and that’s “bacon and eggs over medium with hash browns, toast and coffee with milk with the meal”. Now Denny’s has a little one up-manship here over others in that they’ll offer their “a thousand assortments of jellies” for your toast (if ya like the three flavors that they’re serving that day - that is). Ya can’t beat it, ehh?
Munchies, uh huh! I sure had them this morning again. I got up pretty early and the honey allows me to make my own breakfast and mess. Its one of the few things that I’ve been able to carry over into marriage from my years of bachelorhood besides hockey.
But it was too damned cold in the cabin to think about cereal. I figured that I’d fire up the stove and make myself something warm, tasty and filling. I checked out the refrigerator and saw that we had eggs. That’s good. Now there might be some leftover red potatoes from the roast beef earlier this week. Yup. That’s good. Now for the meat I see we’ve got some ham, roast beef and meat loaf leftovers, and a bag of salad bacon bits. Hmmm? Looks like the meat loaf and I’ll make some hash.
HASH?
Yup. You guys, it’s the same word - just a different meaning. Now hash as from hashish we know now is a drug, ehh? I don’t know where it gets that “ish” on the end of the word but its probably like Turkish, or English, or Berkleyish; but more then likely it comes from Mendocinoish. I mean cuz like the best shit comes from there, ehh!
But hash for the kitchen fixin, now that’s something else! Again, Webster, my good bud, says “to chop, as in to small pieces; chopped meat mixed with potatoes and browned”. Yeah that’s the stuff!
So, I’m makin some hash you guys. The meatloaf was the heal end out of the pan stuffed into a baggy. I just crumbled that all up while it was still in the baggy. Fired up a large skillet with a mess a olive oil in it. Diced an already cooked red potato and started browning those pups. Dumped in the crumbled meat loaf, diced up a quarter of a bell pepper, kept the fire going and started stirring and flipping. Added a couple of heaping tablespoons of those bacon bits and shook a shit load of black pepper over the top. Smells damn good! Normally I add onions but the meatloaf already had enough in it for my tastes. While this was browning to perfection I got the heat under an egg pan and fried up a couple over medium. All finished I slop the hash on a platter size plate and set the eggs over the top - all to be chopped and mixed up together for a fine morning feast with a little salt and a glass of moo.
Now I use a plastic spatula for flippin the hash in the pan. When the honey makes this or similar dishes like fried potatoes she uses a little wooden thingy. Not quite a wooden spoon and not quite a wooden spatula. I personally hate the thing, but she likes it. After I sort of did my post cooking cleanup I noticed some unusual utensils on the counter that I’d never seen before. The honey must a got them when I was outta town or something. They look like white porcelain but are melamine, whatever the fuck that is, and were made in Thailand if ya can believe that. I had to ask her later where she got them and said she said at the grocery store. I didn’t believe her. They look like they came from a sci-fi store. The first one that I saw kind of looked like a fat tonged table fork with only two tongs. But not really functional as a fork - too fat. What it really looks like is a miniature electronic probe/jabbing gizmo that an alien might have used in Star Trek, Star Wars, or other sci-fi flick. She said its for poking things. I told her, I got the tool for poking things and it sure don’t look like that. This damn thing evens rings when ya tap it, like I said fine porcelain, uh huh. Scary! Now the other utensil looks kind of like a wide blade skinning knife but again that melamine shit. Must be a set or something. Before I talked to her about them I thought, well maybe its new silverware, but if the first one is the fork then this one could be the knife or spoon. Neither too functional. Too flat for a spoon - wouldn’t hold a bit of cereal, and too dull for a knife. She said its for spreading stuff for like icing on a cake. I don’t know though. Could be alien instruments if ya ask me. I’ll have to watch her for a while, ehh.
I’m going to tell ya - hash is a damn good pre-game meal. Ya just wanta make sure that ya scarf it down a couple hours ahead a lacing em up though, cuz it can sit pretty heavy and also cause ya to burp up them peppers and onions. I used to fix it with lard instead of the olive oil like I use now. Moves through ya quite quick that way with the lard and makes ya light for the game if ya know what I mean.
Hash is good fixins for camping too. I fix it for the guys when we go fishin and shit. Makes for a one pot meal that ya can have for breakfast or dinner alike.
I’ve been fixin it for years now, I made it with every kind of meat ya can think of: chicken, fillet mignon, pork chops, ham, steak, hamburger, elk, trout, bacon, leftover sloppy-joe, sausage, turkey dark meat. Its really a “leftover dream meal”.
So here’s the word from Jasper here, ya wanta push a little poop through the shoot and energy up for your pond hockey game tonight in the subzero weather then fix yourself a big old batch of HASH. You’ll be walking with wood like the big boys do!
Keep your sticks down and skate hard!
Sunday, November 25, 2007
4 DAY WEEKEND
Apres Thanksgiving
Jasper here - just sittin around the fire, the honey and me, enjoying the end of a fine four day weekend. Our Thanksgiving was great, stuffed myself like a durn fool and crashed out way to early for a man of my young age. One of my nephews on my honey’s side of the family had us over where his wife and her mom put together one heck of a nice meal. Turkey, ham, spuds, dressing, beans, dinner rolls, pies and cookies with ice cream and wine. Could a had brews but no one else was drinkin them so I stuck with the beverage of the evening.
I collected a mess a deadfall during the summer - ya know just a random assortment of hardwoods and pines - and split it up for the winter nights. Feels purty good to have the heat from the fireplace warming your soul. Sure brings back so many great memories of sittin around the campfire, drinkin brews and shootin the shit on all those fishing trips with buds before I met my honey. Course her and me have done our share of some damn fine enjoyable camping together too. Just really like sitting by the fire as ya let it burn down to just coals before crashing and looking up at the stars and wondering about the immensity of our universe.
Speaking of that, have any of ya seen that new comet that exploded? I’ve spotted it twice so far. From my local at about 9:00 pm its maybe 10 to 15 degrees north and 5 to 10 degrees east of my zenith (that means directly overhead for you dim wits out there). It’s looks like a small circular cloudy spot fairly near a yellowish star. I read somewhere that after it exploded it became larger then our sun making it the largest celestial body in our solar system. Of course it is so damn far away right now that you’d never know it, ehh.
Pretty cool stuff, that astronomy and sky watchin. I keep hopin that I’ll get to see a flying saucer, maybe, before I die. I just know that there is other intelligent life out there. The Good Lord didn’t just create his kind here on this planet, I figure.
I remember one time I got so caught up in star gazing around a dying campfire that I munched up a whole box of cinnamon graham crackers all by my lonesome. I’ll tell you, you guys, that is not something that ya want to do when you’re out camping away from civil facilities. Damn if I didn’t get the worst case a the shits that I can ever remember. If ya don’t believe me then you go eat a whole family size bag of teddy grahams all by yourself and see what happens.
Hey, I just wanted to say “Hi!” to all my friends over at myspace.com. You’re all good puck heads, ehh! Dudes and dudettes just living for the best sport in the world …. hockey. You guys have gotta just keep on skating hard and walk with wood when ya can. Ok?
Some a ya are probably still wondering about the continued activities involved with those bones that were found while hand excavating my basement, ehh. The sheriff still has it cordoned off and they braced up the end wall of the cabin like he said they would. We haven’t moved out cuz most a the work they do is during daylight hours and me and the honey are away that time a the day anyway. We’re both still having our weird-ass dreams or nightmares though. Shit, them puppies might never stop happening.
The sheriff and the county have put a pretty strong case together so far against Mr. Oscar Pederson. I guess that they’re going to try to extradite him from Argentina with the help of federal authorities. I’m wondering if they would take me on as a short little lopsided sheriff’s deputy. If they’d bring me on board to bring him back in, tear him away from that little hoochie mama down there, and hold him in the local pokie here I’d just be bejiggered with joy to do it. Shit howdy! Maybe I could get in a little side trip to cast a fly for some a those trophy browns that they got down there around Patagonia. Wouldn’t that be something, ehh, you guys?
As I know more - I’ll tell ya more. No secrets and no bull shit here, ehh.
Thanksgiving is over and that means we’re on the home stretch to Christmas. I gotta tell ya I went out and did some shopping early Friday morning. Nah, I ain’t no fool spending all day doing early Christmas shopping. Just needed some things for myself. Saw that K-Mart had flannels on sale for six bucks. Shit ya can’t beat that, ehh. So I headed over at 6:00 am and got four extra-large ones before they sold out. Already, that early in the morning, what a nut house that place was. Yup, I figure that these guys are going to shrink after washing so I’m just going to wear them as dab-gone long as I can before that happens.
I’ve been thinkin about getting the honey some perfume for Christmas but that went to hell in a hand basket since Thanksgiving night. That night her sister gave her a whole stack of women’s magazines that she’s apparently got subscriptions to and every one of them fashion mag’s has got about five or six perfume ads with them foldover scent page doo-hickies. She just tore those right out and folded each page up and put it separately into individual baggies for future use.
Shit, she’s set for the year, ehh. Now what am I going to do? You guys got any ideas?
I always try to put something together for the county’s children’s center this time a the year. Doesn’t seem to be as many parentless kids over there as there used to be but I still like to do something for them for Christmas. This year I had, what I thought, was a heck of a good idea. I’d make them sock puppets. Shit, I figured, I’ve got just whole slew of old hockey socks that I could use and the honey could help me. So, the night before last, I dug em up. I had some Ranger’s, Bruins, Golden Seals, North Stars, Blues and no-name socks. We ran em through the washer to make sure they were nice and clean. Then we started trying to put them together. Crap, some of these old socks had stirrups but that wasn’t the worst of it. Ya know ya can’t make a decent sock puppet from an open ended sock! Cripes did I feel like one stupid shit. Guess I’ll either have to give these old socks to Stinky or use em as car rags.
Another Christmas idea down the drain, ehh. I’ll have to figure something else out to give these kids.
The fire’s going down, guess I’ll have to stoke it up cuz the night's still young.
Speakin of stokin-up, shit, who lit the fire under my LA Kings last night? They went and beat the San Jose Sharks 2 to 1. Nice! Very, very nice! Its been a while coming. I’d really like to see them turn this season around and quit hanging out in the cellar. And shit, how about that goalie that Gretz picked up from Anaheim for his Coyotes. I think he’s got four wins in a row now. And the Caps are maybe turning it around too as they’ve got two wins in a row for their new interim coach.
You know, I’d just like to see some things spin in the NHL once in a while
Back to the duties of a Thanksgiving four day weekend. I put up Christmas lights today. I got sap on me up to my damn earlobes. Used to be so easy to hang them lights on the house when we lived in town. Now you can’t hardly see the cabin from the road so we light up two trees that we got out at the end of the drive. They’re kinda nice shaped and all so they look real good when I get done, but holy mackerel if them pups weren’t just coated with fresh sap for some un-natural reason. And me too for a while. Had to use turpentine to get most of it off. But like I said these trees look awfully damn nice. Its sure helps that when I had them run power for the cabin that I had them put a 100 amp pedestal out along side the drive. I’ve had to use that for all sorts a shit and it works just fine when ya got ten strings of lights on each tree, ehh.
How about you guys? Did ya have a great Thanksgiving weekend? Keep up traditions from your past? Damn I hope so.
I really wanted to get in some holiday pond hockey like the old days. Just some sweet pickup - three on three would a been fine. But it’s been so mild though so far that we haven’t had a decent freeze - nothings frozen over yet and if this global warming crap is for real then maybe nothing will ever again. Who knows, ehh?
Alrighty, enough for this week. Appreciate all of ya that read this north woods humor that’s been spiced up a bit with hockey and other tidbits of wisdom that ya can … never …. take to the bank.
Keep the snow outta your boots by staying on the shoveled path! Walk with wood and skate hard!
Jasper here - just sittin around the fire, the honey and me, enjoying the end of a fine four day weekend. Our Thanksgiving was great, stuffed myself like a durn fool and crashed out way to early for a man of my young age. One of my nephews on my honey’s side of the family had us over where his wife and her mom put together one heck of a nice meal. Turkey, ham, spuds, dressing, beans, dinner rolls, pies and cookies with ice cream and wine. Could a had brews but no one else was drinkin them so I stuck with the beverage of the evening.
I collected a mess a deadfall during the summer - ya know just a random assortment of hardwoods and pines - and split it up for the winter nights. Feels purty good to have the heat from the fireplace warming your soul. Sure brings back so many great memories of sittin around the campfire, drinkin brews and shootin the shit on all those fishing trips with buds before I met my honey. Course her and me have done our share of some damn fine enjoyable camping together too. Just really like sitting by the fire as ya let it burn down to just coals before crashing and looking up at the stars and wondering about the immensity of our universe.
Speaking of that, have any of ya seen that new comet that exploded? I’ve spotted it twice so far. From my local at about 9:00 pm its maybe 10 to 15 degrees north and 5 to 10 degrees east of my zenith (that means directly overhead for you dim wits out there). It’s looks like a small circular cloudy spot fairly near a yellowish star. I read somewhere that after it exploded it became larger then our sun making it the largest celestial body in our solar system. Of course it is so damn far away right now that you’d never know it, ehh.
Pretty cool stuff, that astronomy and sky watchin. I keep hopin that I’ll get to see a flying saucer, maybe, before I die. I just know that there is other intelligent life out there. The Good Lord didn’t just create his kind here on this planet, I figure.
I remember one time I got so caught up in star gazing around a dying campfire that I munched up a whole box of cinnamon graham crackers all by my lonesome. I’ll tell you, you guys, that is not something that ya want to do when you’re out camping away from civil facilities. Damn if I didn’t get the worst case a the shits that I can ever remember. If ya don’t believe me then you go eat a whole family size bag of teddy grahams all by yourself and see what happens.
Hey, I just wanted to say “Hi!” to all my friends over at myspace.com. You’re all good puck heads, ehh! Dudes and dudettes just living for the best sport in the world …. hockey. You guys have gotta just keep on skating hard and walk with wood when ya can. Ok?
Some a ya are probably still wondering about the continued activities involved with those bones that were found while hand excavating my basement, ehh. The sheriff still has it cordoned off and they braced up the end wall of the cabin like he said they would. We haven’t moved out cuz most a the work they do is during daylight hours and me and the honey are away that time a the day anyway. We’re both still having our weird-ass dreams or nightmares though. Shit, them puppies might never stop happening.
The sheriff and the county have put a pretty strong case together so far against Mr. Oscar Pederson. I guess that they’re going to try to extradite him from Argentina with the help of federal authorities. I’m wondering if they would take me on as a short little lopsided sheriff’s deputy. If they’d bring me on board to bring him back in, tear him away from that little hoochie mama down there, and hold him in the local pokie here I’d just be bejiggered with joy to do it. Shit howdy! Maybe I could get in a little side trip to cast a fly for some a those trophy browns that they got down there around Patagonia. Wouldn’t that be something, ehh, you guys?
As I know more - I’ll tell ya more. No secrets and no bull shit here, ehh.
Thanksgiving is over and that means we’re on the home stretch to Christmas. I gotta tell ya I went out and did some shopping early Friday morning. Nah, I ain’t no fool spending all day doing early Christmas shopping. Just needed some things for myself. Saw that K-Mart had flannels on sale for six bucks. Shit ya can’t beat that, ehh. So I headed over at 6:00 am and got four extra-large ones before they sold out. Already, that early in the morning, what a nut house that place was. Yup, I figure that these guys are going to shrink after washing so I’m just going to wear them as dab-gone long as I can before that happens.
I’ve been thinkin about getting the honey some perfume for Christmas but that went to hell in a hand basket since Thanksgiving night. That night her sister gave her a whole stack of women’s magazines that she’s apparently got subscriptions to and every one of them fashion mag’s has got about five or six perfume ads with them foldover scent page doo-hickies. She just tore those right out and folded each page up and put it separately into individual baggies for future use.
Shit, she’s set for the year, ehh. Now what am I going to do? You guys got any ideas?
I always try to put something together for the county’s children’s center this time a the year. Doesn’t seem to be as many parentless kids over there as there used to be but I still like to do something for them for Christmas. This year I had, what I thought, was a heck of a good idea. I’d make them sock puppets. Shit, I figured, I’ve got just whole slew of old hockey socks that I could use and the honey could help me. So, the night before last, I dug em up. I had some Ranger’s, Bruins, Golden Seals, North Stars, Blues and no-name socks. We ran em through the washer to make sure they were nice and clean. Then we started trying to put them together. Crap, some of these old socks had stirrups but that wasn’t the worst of it. Ya know ya can’t make a decent sock puppet from an open ended sock! Cripes did I feel like one stupid shit. Guess I’ll either have to give these old socks to Stinky or use em as car rags.
Another Christmas idea down the drain, ehh. I’ll have to figure something else out to give these kids.
The fire’s going down, guess I’ll have to stoke it up cuz the night's still young.
Speakin of stokin-up, shit, who lit the fire under my LA Kings last night? They went and beat the San Jose Sharks 2 to 1. Nice! Very, very nice! Its been a while coming. I’d really like to see them turn this season around and quit hanging out in the cellar. And shit, how about that goalie that Gretz picked up from Anaheim for his Coyotes. I think he’s got four wins in a row now. And the Caps are maybe turning it around too as they’ve got two wins in a row for their new interim coach.
You know, I’d just like to see some things spin in the NHL once in a while
Back to the duties of a Thanksgiving four day weekend. I put up Christmas lights today. I got sap on me up to my damn earlobes. Used to be so easy to hang them lights on the house when we lived in town. Now you can’t hardly see the cabin from the road so we light up two trees that we got out at the end of the drive. They’re kinda nice shaped and all so they look real good when I get done, but holy mackerel if them pups weren’t just coated with fresh sap for some un-natural reason. And me too for a while. Had to use turpentine to get most of it off. But like I said these trees look awfully damn nice. Its sure helps that when I had them run power for the cabin that I had them put a 100 amp pedestal out along side the drive. I’ve had to use that for all sorts a shit and it works just fine when ya got ten strings of lights on each tree, ehh.
How about you guys? Did ya have a great Thanksgiving weekend? Keep up traditions from your past? Damn I hope so.
I really wanted to get in some holiday pond hockey like the old days. Just some sweet pickup - three on three would a been fine. But it’s been so mild though so far that we haven’t had a decent freeze - nothings frozen over yet and if this global warming crap is for real then maybe nothing will ever again. Who knows, ehh?
Alrighty, enough for this week. Appreciate all of ya that read this north woods humor that’s been spiced up a bit with hockey and other tidbits of wisdom that ya can … never …. take to the bank.
Keep the snow outta your boots by staying on the shoveled path! Walk with wood and skate hard!
Sunday, May 6, 2007
ZAMBOOMBA
I’ve written some previous BS about a valuable early hockey stick that was worth an immense value in US dollars (ya not too much Canadian though). At the time of that writing I figured that some of my old sticks were probably worth a good bit of moola too.
Here’s an update on that story: I haven’t had single ding dang offer for my old wood. What’s the deal with that, ehh? I mean shit howdy if I didn’t get some good play out of these ancient puppies. And they’ve got my signature on them besides. What more d’ya want? That “Wheats” script is worth a couple a thousand bucks right there and several of em have a few notches indicating goals and noting that they’re some good wood. Ehh? You guys are just really pissing me off with this lack of interest.
Shite!
So today I’m reading Tim Wendel’s Sports Collectable article from today’s paper in the USA WEEKEND magazine insert and there are a couple of high priced hockey items listed.
The most valuable item is worth $400,000. Its one of the original Montreal AAA club’s sweaters from 1893. If your sweetheart can find one of these in her hope chest handed down from her great-great granny or if you’ve been using it as a car rag - big mistake. Ehh? Cash it in now before the moths get it. The Hockey Hall of Fame, where Cheever’s gear resides, is looking for one or two of these jerseys. Rumor has it that there were only nine players on the team that won the first Stanley Cup. Chances are that you don’t have one of these, but check your gear bag and if ya got a sweater that smells real, real bad ya better give it a good look-see.
The item of lesser value that was mentioned in Wendel’s article was a three wheeled Zamboni that was used to clean the ice at the 1960’s Olympics. They don’t know where this contraption ended up. The article says that it would be worth about $175,000 but I don’t know who’d cough up that kinda cash for a dilapidated piece of shite. Crap it was missing a wheel back then. Bet they had to add some ballast to the opposite side so it could take a fairly even cut. What were those guys thinking at Zamboni? Here they are having a chance to use their machine for the first time during the Winter Olympics and they send a defective unit. Shit for brains - I hope they fired the marketing guy behind that plan.
I’ve skated a few times at the rink down in Paramount, California that the Zamboni’s owned. It’s been ages since I was there so I can’t remember if they just had pictures or the real things, but I recall how much the early units looked like farm equipment. Maybe they converted this one into a combine, blew it up, or salvaged it for fixing other units. Who knows, ehh?
So that’s a hint to you ‘mers out there. Take a look out behind the barn or one of the corn silos, heck check your neighbor’s property (more then likely they don’t live on it anyway) and see if ya see some really strange piece of equipment that’s missing a wheel. If ya see something that’s got some hen scratches on it that look like names then ya might have something. A really stupid rumor is that the entire USA Gold Medal Team etched their names on this Zam. Stupid, ehh? Story goes that they used their skate blades. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Well if that’s the case then I can see that it might be worth the bucks that I mentioned earlier.
I’ve got an idea for a new ice cleaning machine that I’d call the Zamboomba. “Zam” of course because I’d get Zamboni to manufacture it and to market it with their current fabulous network. The first one could end up being pretty valuable so after it gets used a few times I’d snag it back and store in my garage to sell later and use to pay for my grandkids’ college.
Got your interest in this, ehh? Want to invest? Need some more information to convince you? Are you questioning Jasper Wheats’ ingenuity?
The wifey got a chance to hear this when I was proofing it and she says to me at this point, “Jasper, these guys that read this probably don’t think you got it in ya for grandkids.” Well, EAT SHIT AND DIE – JASPER WHEATS IS WALKING WITH WOOD!!!!!
First of all the Zamboomba would be computerized. It would be set up to operate like them damn sneaky little vacuum cleaners that cleanup by themselves. The commercial version would contain a big old rechargeable battery that would run the motor for the scrapper blade and a heater to melt the snow for rewetting the ice.
Yup, your thinking, “How’s this little piece a shit going to clean the ice between periods?” Ehh?
Well, you’d use about a hundred of them at one time. All scurrying around on the ice, just tidying up the place. They’d all be preprogrammed to hit every spot but they’d also be programmed to add some damn good entertainment.
When they first come out on the ice they’d be programmed to act like they didn’t know what the heck they were doing. They’d be scurrying around and running into each other, smacking the boards, flipping over, etc. Kinda like robo wars on late night cable. Then they’d get their act together and get the job done. Of course a couple of times in the middle of this ice resurfacing they’d take off into wee bit a synchronized shit and makes patterns and spell things out like some hot for shit marching band with each unit programmed for sound to be a specific musical instrument. Lights and all, too, for a damn fancy lightshow.
Yup, the commercial version of the Zamboomba will be walking with wood.
So now you’re wondering what the standard retail unit is like.
Well, it would be a bit bigger and wouldn’t have all the bells and whistles. It would have a solar cell array on its back to keep the battery charged up. You could use it for your backyard rink or the cleared area out on the pond. Just set that baby loose when ya leave for school or work in the morning and when ya come home later ya got a damn nice patch of ice. No more gettin the shovels and hoses out to get yourself and your buddies some good ice.
Jasper here with his Zamboomba - just trying to make your ice time just a little bit better.
Skate hard! Keep walking with wood!
Here’s an update on that story: I haven’t had single ding dang offer for my old wood. What’s the deal with that, ehh? I mean shit howdy if I didn’t get some good play out of these ancient puppies. And they’ve got my signature on them besides. What more d’ya want? That “Wheats” script is worth a couple a thousand bucks right there and several of em have a few notches indicating goals and noting that they’re some good wood. Ehh? You guys are just really pissing me off with this lack of interest.
Shite!
So today I’m reading Tim Wendel’s Sports Collectable article from today’s paper in the USA WEEKEND magazine insert and there are a couple of high priced hockey items listed.
The most valuable item is worth $400,000. Its one of the original Montreal AAA club’s sweaters from 1893. If your sweetheart can find one of these in her hope chest handed down from her great-great granny or if you’ve been using it as a car rag - big mistake. Ehh? Cash it in now before the moths get it. The Hockey Hall of Fame, where Cheever’s gear resides, is looking for one or two of these jerseys. Rumor has it that there were only nine players on the team that won the first Stanley Cup. Chances are that you don’t have one of these, but check your gear bag and if ya got a sweater that smells real, real bad ya better give it a good look-see.
The item of lesser value that was mentioned in Wendel’s article was a three wheeled Zamboni that was used to clean the ice at the 1960’s Olympics. They don’t know where this contraption ended up. The article says that it would be worth about $175,000 but I don’t know who’d cough up that kinda cash for a dilapidated piece of shite. Crap it was missing a wheel back then. Bet they had to add some ballast to the opposite side so it could take a fairly even cut. What were those guys thinking at Zamboni? Here they are having a chance to use their machine for the first time during the Winter Olympics and they send a defective unit. Shit for brains - I hope they fired the marketing guy behind that plan.
I’ve skated a few times at the rink down in Paramount, California that the Zamboni’s owned. It’s been ages since I was there so I can’t remember if they just had pictures or the real things, but I recall how much the early units looked like farm equipment. Maybe they converted this one into a combine, blew it up, or salvaged it for fixing other units. Who knows, ehh?
So that’s a hint to you ‘mers out there. Take a look out behind the barn or one of the corn silos, heck check your neighbor’s property (more then likely they don’t live on it anyway) and see if ya see some really strange piece of equipment that’s missing a wheel. If ya see something that’s got some hen scratches on it that look like names then ya might have something. A really stupid rumor is that the entire USA Gold Medal Team etched their names on this Zam. Stupid, ehh? Story goes that they used their skate blades. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Well if that’s the case then I can see that it might be worth the bucks that I mentioned earlier.
I’ve got an idea for a new ice cleaning machine that I’d call the Zamboomba. “Zam” of course because I’d get Zamboni to manufacture it and to market it with their current fabulous network. The first one could end up being pretty valuable so after it gets used a few times I’d snag it back and store in my garage to sell later and use to pay for my grandkids’ college.
Got your interest in this, ehh? Want to invest? Need some more information to convince you? Are you questioning Jasper Wheats’ ingenuity?
The wifey got a chance to hear this when I was proofing it and she says to me at this point, “Jasper, these guys that read this probably don’t think you got it in ya for grandkids.” Well, EAT SHIT AND DIE – JASPER WHEATS IS WALKING WITH WOOD!!!!!
First of all the Zamboomba would be computerized. It would be set up to operate like them damn sneaky little vacuum cleaners that cleanup by themselves. The commercial version would contain a big old rechargeable battery that would run the motor for the scrapper blade and a heater to melt the snow for rewetting the ice.
Yup, your thinking, “How’s this little piece a shit going to clean the ice between periods?” Ehh?
Well, you’d use about a hundred of them at one time. All scurrying around on the ice, just tidying up the place. They’d all be preprogrammed to hit every spot but they’d also be programmed to add some damn good entertainment.
When they first come out on the ice they’d be programmed to act like they didn’t know what the heck they were doing. They’d be scurrying around and running into each other, smacking the boards, flipping over, etc. Kinda like robo wars on late night cable. Then they’d get their act together and get the job done. Of course a couple of times in the middle of this ice resurfacing they’d take off into wee bit a synchronized shit and makes patterns and spell things out like some hot for shit marching band with each unit programmed for sound to be a specific musical instrument. Lights and all, too, for a damn fancy lightshow.
Yup, the commercial version of the Zamboomba will be walking with wood.
So now you’re wondering what the standard retail unit is like.
Well, it would be a bit bigger and wouldn’t have all the bells and whistles. It would have a solar cell array on its back to keep the battery charged up. You could use it for your backyard rink or the cleared area out on the pond. Just set that baby loose when ya leave for school or work in the morning and when ya come home later ya got a damn nice patch of ice. No more gettin the shovels and hoses out to get yourself and your buddies some good ice.
Jasper here with his Zamboomba - just trying to make your ice time just a little bit better.
Skate hard! Keep walking with wood!
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Global Warming
Earlier this week I talked with my bro Bronzy who lives in SoCal. Lucky sucker, he and Jingles are still playing a couple of times a week and according to Jingles, Bronzy ain't doing too bad at it these days. I bring this up and he says "Well Jasper, I think we finally got in a league where we're playing against guys closer to our own age." I tell ya, I loved playing against the young pups and rubbing a little in their face, but after a while ya just can't stop 'em. Life catches up with ya. Gotta love hockey though and walking with wood feels so good.
So whats this shit about global warming? Ya got any idea? Ice caps melting and all its kinda scary. One week on the news I hear about some massive ice pack breaking off of Antartica that's the size of Russia (hey don't kid yourself Russia ain't that big anymore). And then I read that the permafrost under Northern Canada (now there's a BIG country) is shrinking by some ungodly proportion. The Tundra gone - no way Jose.
I mean, I s'pose this is reality, but what the f...? I could tell you stories. Hmmm. Let me think about this a bit.
Lets see. I'm hearing that the Dakotas and Minnesota have been having some really mild winters these last few years. Sorta been keeping track of that part of the states cuz I've lived in the area. I can remember some pretty damn cold winters back there.
Ever screw around in high school practice? Yeah, if ya get singled out then ya gotta stay after and flood. You younger whipper snappers probably never skated anywhere 'cept in an indoor rink. Ain't they nice?!?!
Well, Wayzata High School in '68 only had two outdoor rinks. Wooden boards and all. That damn afternoon that I got nailed and had to flood was 30 below. Ya had to change out of your gear and jump in some winter garb with pac's and all that shit and haul a motherf'ing inch and half diameter rubber hose out of the boiler room. First to the closest rink and put down some new ice then move onto the further rink and do the same thing. Course ya catch shit from the guys the next day cuz the ice is still shit. No Zambonies, just a bunch of team mates with shovels, scraping the ice after practice then "you screw up you flood". Colder then poop I'll tell ya.
But it seems as though that same year we had a bit of a thaw. Damn near all of the snow melted and I didn't hear a thing back then about "global warming". But what a bitch-ass thing that thaw did. The snow runoff filled every low spot around and refroze quicker then shit. We had ponds everywhere and I went walking with wood to skate on every one of them that I could find. New ice is great! Of course most of the new ponds I found had crap sticking up out of the ice and as I've mentioned in earlier writing that shit gets ya horizontal if your skate hits it.
At the end of our neighborhood was Gleason Lake. Not too deep and really crappy for fishin' - only held bullheads. At the widest, the lake is only about a half mile across and maybe two miles long. It narrowed in one spot where the railroad trestle was and had a little spit of land further on up the tracks where the trees had really gotten wacked from a tornado a couple of years earlier. You could get to the tracks from the backyards of any of the houses across the street. So I moseyed on over there and walked down the tracks to the trestle. (I've been back recently and the tracks are gone - just a bike path now.)
Beeauutifullll ! The whole lake was like a sheet of glass. I figured this was going to be great! The ice was at least eighteen to twenty inches thick which was due to the shallow depth of the lake and the ice was black as the night. I'd only skated on Gleason once before and that had been in a cleared out patch that was the roughest chunk of ice I'd ever skated on. Ice under snow did that - it kind of resembles porous lava rock. But this was something else today. This was tits!
I laced up and tossed the puck out on the ice and it slid forever as I skated out after it with my wooden stick in mittened hands. Just skate and skate and skate. Stick handle a bit. Shoot the puck somewhere - shit shoot it anywhere and chase it again. There was a bit of a breeze so if ya skated into it ya worked your butt off but with it behind ya - ya could sail. Made me think about a story that I had heard from the guys that a few years earlier some whiz had gone out on the snow covered lake with skis and a parachute. He got sliced in half on barbed wire at the south end of the lake after the wind had really got behind him. Nah - not gonna happen too me. I'm in control - I'm walking with wood!
This was the absolute greatest feeling. So much ice. Sooooo smooth. But I gotta tell ya I also had the biggest damn shot of scared-as-shit goose bumples out there too. Those of you that have done this know what I'm talking about. You're skating along and the ice cracks right between your skates. Nah your not in danger, but the noise that that fissure makes as your body weight causes the settling or shift or whatever the shit it is to happen - just liquifies your bowels. Its like a gunshot - where you didn't pull the trigger but maybe you were inside the barrel. It happened, I think, three times that day. You're never ready for it and its so cold and ya know how the sound carries on those crisp days.
Ya can't pass that up. Winter thaw - global warming - glaze ice out on the lake! I don't know.
Ok. So back to the science of this shit about global warming. I read in our local paper the other day here in wonderful Fairfield, CA that the "Cold Spell" that we've been having is of course unusual but not uncommon (what gobal warming???????). In the past, but still recent history, one of the goose ponds (Fairfield has got geese the same way as Rochester, MN so don't call them duck ponds. OK?) got frozen over several different times. Yeah, don't go skating on that shit - too thin here. Just the same ... frozen over. So what gives?
And snow in Texas. Heck one of the girls at work showed me pictures from this week taken at her brother's ranch in Del Rio (that's like right next-door to Mexico). The picture was of him and his kids out in one of the pastures and they had made a damn snowman. I mean, snow on the ground and enough to build a punk dude.
So what's with this global warming bullshit?
Here's my theory on all this. There ain't no such thing as global warming. The earth's just getting ready to tip on its axis. And the North Pole's going to end up somewhere south of Texas with the South Pole east of Madagascar somewhere in the Indian Ocean. Scientists say that its happened before - so why not again?
Ok enough already.
Skate hard, skate often, and continue walking with wood.
Hey if ya like this shit then let me know. Shoot me an email at hoduhn@sbcglobal.net.
Thanks guys.
So whats this shit about global warming? Ya got any idea? Ice caps melting and all its kinda scary. One week on the news I hear about some massive ice pack breaking off of Antartica that's the size of Russia (hey don't kid yourself Russia ain't that big anymore). And then I read that the permafrost under Northern Canada (now there's a BIG country) is shrinking by some ungodly proportion. The Tundra gone - no way Jose.
I mean, I s'pose this is reality, but what the f...? I could tell you stories. Hmmm. Let me think about this a bit.
Lets see. I'm hearing that the Dakotas and Minnesota have been having some really mild winters these last few years. Sorta been keeping track of that part of the states cuz I've lived in the area. I can remember some pretty damn cold winters back there.
Ever screw around in high school practice? Yeah, if ya get singled out then ya gotta stay after and flood. You younger whipper snappers probably never skated anywhere 'cept in an indoor rink. Ain't they nice?!?!
Well, Wayzata High School in '68 only had two outdoor rinks. Wooden boards and all. That damn afternoon that I got nailed and had to flood was 30 below. Ya had to change out of your gear and jump in some winter garb with pac's and all that shit and haul a motherf'ing inch and half diameter rubber hose out of the boiler room. First to the closest rink and put down some new ice then move onto the further rink and do the same thing. Course ya catch shit from the guys the next day cuz the ice is still shit. No Zambonies, just a bunch of team mates with shovels, scraping the ice after practice then "you screw up you flood". Colder then poop I'll tell ya.
But it seems as though that same year we had a bit of a thaw. Damn near all of the snow melted and I didn't hear a thing back then about "global warming". But what a bitch-ass thing that thaw did. The snow runoff filled every low spot around and refroze quicker then shit. We had ponds everywhere and I went walking with wood to skate on every one of them that I could find. New ice is great! Of course most of the new ponds I found had crap sticking up out of the ice and as I've mentioned in earlier writing that shit gets ya horizontal if your skate hits it.
At the end of our neighborhood was Gleason Lake. Not too deep and really crappy for fishin' - only held bullheads. At the widest, the lake is only about a half mile across and maybe two miles long. It narrowed in one spot where the railroad trestle was and had a little spit of land further on up the tracks where the trees had really gotten wacked from a tornado a couple of years earlier. You could get to the tracks from the backyards of any of the houses across the street. So I moseyed on over there and walked down the tracks to the trestle. (I've been back recently and the tracks are gone - just a bike path now.)
Beeauutifullll ! The whole lake was like a sheet of glass. I figured this was going to be great! The ice was at least eighteen to twenty inches thick which was due to the shallow depth of the lake and the ice was black as the night. I'd only skated on Gleason once before and that had been in a cleared out patch that was the roughest chunk of ice I'd ever skated on. Ice under snow did that - it kind of resembles porous lava rock. But this was something else today. This was tits!
I laced up and tossed the puck out on the ice and it slid forever as I skated out after it with my wooden stick in mittened hands. Just skate and skate and skate. Stick handle a bit. Shoot the puck somewhere - shit shoot it anywhere and chase it again. There was a bit of a breeze so if ya skated into it ya worked your butt off but with it behind ya - ya could sail. Made me think about a story that I had heard from the guys that a few years earlier some whiz had gone out on the snow covered lake with skis and a parachute. He got sliced in half on barbed wire at the south end of the lake after the wind had really got behind him. Nah - not gonna happen too me. I'm in control - I'm walking with wood!
This was the absolute greatest feeling. So much ice. Sooooo smooth. But I gotta tell ya I also had the biggest damn shot of scared-as-shit goose bumples out there too. Those of you that have done this know what I'm talking about. You're skating along and the ice cracks right between your skates. Nah your not in danger, but the noise that that fissure makes as your body weight causes the settling or shift or whatever the shit it is to happen - just liquifies your bowels. Its like a gunshot - where you didn't pull the trigger but maybe you were inside the barrel. It happened, I think, three times that day. You're never ready for it and its so cold and ya know how the sound carries on those crisp days.
Ya can't pass that up. Winter thaw - global warming - glaze ice out on the lake! I don't know.
Ok. So back to the science of this shit about global warming. I read in our local paper the other day here in wonderful Fairfield, CA that the "Cold Spell" that we've been having is of course unusual but not uncommon (what gobal warming???????). In the past, but still recent history, one of the goose ponds (Fairfield has got geese the same way as Rochester, MN so don't call them duck ponds. OK?) got frozen over several different times. Yeah, don't go skating on that shit - too thin here. Just the same ... frozen over. So what gives?
And snow in Texas. Heck one of the girls at work showed me pictures from this week taken at her brother's ranch in Del Rio (that's like right next-door to Mexico). The picture was of him and his kids out in one of the pastures and they had made a damn snowman. I mean, snow on the ground and enough to build a punk dude.
So what's with this global warming bullshit?
Here's my theory on all this. There ain't no such thing as global warming. The earth's just getting ready to tip on its axis. And the North Pole's going to end up somewhere south of Texas with the South Pole east of Madagascar somewhere in the Indian Ocean. Scientists say that its happened before - so why not again?
Ok enough already.
Skate hard, skate often, and continue walking with wood.
Hey if ya like this shit then let me know. Shoot me an email at hoduhn@sbcglobal.net.
Thanks guys.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Walking With Wood
Years ago, (or as the say now “Back in the day…”) when I was still just a young pup, the Christmas Holidays were more than just a special time. They were a time for playing lots of hockey. Now days the indoor rinks aren’t even open on Christmas day. Whats ya gonna do????????
Can you remember when you got new skates or gear for Christmas and you couldn’t wait to use the stuff. Like getting a new Northland R 5 lie stick (or maybe it was a Norcon) – made from real wood remember? “Thanks Santa!” Or, “Thanks Mom and Dad!”
I remember getting new skates the year before. Nothing real special. They were all black, hockey style tubulers but the toes got soft when they got wet. I wore those babies out over the year and saved my own money for a real pair of Bauers. Fiberglass reinforced toes, lots of structural support. You know the boots. Anyway the folks now really knew how much I loved playing the game. It was nothing organized just a lot of little pickup games two on two, three on three, and if I was by myself it was a little stick handling and a lot of shooting.
Well Dad took me out before Christmas to the local Western Auto store. They always had a seasonal sporting goods section and Dad let me pick out a new stick for one of my presents. Sure, I now knew what one of my gifts would be but so what – it would be something that I really wanted instead of a new package of Hanes or Fruit of the Loom undies. Shoot – enough of that stuff already. So they put a new puck in my stocking too. I had several pucks that I had dug out of snow banks and I had learned how to use epoxy and clamps to “fix” broken sticks that I had found. But the new stuff was going to be great. I was so damn happy I could hardly handle it.
Our family was pretty big. I had a bunch of sisters and two younger brothers (a shit load of stories to follow about those two). We opened our presents on Christmas Eve after church. Boy was it tough to sleep that night. And in the morning we had to all get together again for breakfast before we could go outside or doing any other fartin-around. Probably it was pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon that Christmas day – I don’t really remember. But Mom could be pretty tough on you about tradition (bless her soul – tradition is what keeps us going sometimes ya know) and we did these things before playing.
Finally, “Ok you can go down to the pond now. But you can’t stay too long, I’ll send someone to get you in couple of hours and earlier if it drops below 10 degrees.” Sweet! I had a heck of a lump in my throat and couldn’t believe how stinkin happy I was.
The pond was maybe two acres and was in a little hollow between our neighborhood and the next one to the south. You could get to it from the White’s backyard and they kept part of it shoveled off with their Toro lawn tractor and they flooded this area sometimes too. There was a little floating dock or raft that was by the shore. It was made of four 55 gallon drums and some two bys for the deck. Frozen into the pond, it made a good place to sit and pull off your snow boots and put your skates on.
Well, I don’t know what they teach now but in those days the rule was that a stick should be cut to length so that while in your stocking feet and held upright it just reaches under your chin. Sized up I cut my new stick. I had a rubber knob from one of the broken sticks I had found and stuck it on the end. I raided Dad’s tool box for black friction tape and taped up the blade. Not much for brains back then I taped it about three inches up the shaft too. Again – oh so sweet!
Back up stairs from the basement I’m in my room. Now I’m putting on my long johns, oversize jeans, a tee-shirt, sweater and two pairs of socks. Heading to the front door out of the closet I snag my old wool coat, a thick stocking cap, my snow boots with metal clasps, and grab Dad’s buckskin mittens with wool liners. My new stick is standing by the front door. I stick the puck in my coat pocket. I bend over, feeling pretty flexible back then, pick up those Bauers from the entry rug and slide them over the blade of the stick. You know you could do that with tubulers – pretty slick. I put the mittens on, yelled at Mom and headed out the door with the wooden stick over my left shoulder with the skates hanging on my back. Walking with wood – it felt so good!
Bam, the closer on the storm door finally pulled in and I was about half down the driveway. I heard the door open again (its great how crisp the sounds are on a good cold winter’s day) and Mom yells, “You forgot your scarf.” Sheeet! She knew I was susceptible to the strep and always made me wear a scarf around my neck to keep me “extra” warm. The damn thing was an ugly sulfur yellow, of thick woven wool (not knit so it didn’t stretch much) and was itchier then heck. I head back to the front porch, set my stick down, take the scarf from Mom, wrap it around my neck and tuck it into my coat above the collar. Mom says, “Don’t get hurt.” She shuts the door and I’m on my way again.
The White’s house was only the second house from us but I had to cross a street to get there. Our street crested in front of our next door neighbors’ and was pretty much down hill from there. If I got it right I could do a little slip sliding on the packed snow in the street that the snow plow never seemed to scrape up. I do a little skip shuffle and I’m sliding a bit. The sand in the packed snow stops me and I’m walking again. Proud as can be. Walking with wood! I sure hoped that the neighbors were seeing me.
To get to the pond you’ve got to turn on the street at the White’s, go to the edge of their property at a vacant lot, trudge though the snow down the hill into the hollow and arrive at the edge of the pond. The snow was fairly well packed around the shoveled area and you could walk on top of it to get to the raft.
I can see that I’m the only one at the pond. Must be a bit early ‘cuz of it being Christmas and all. I start walking on top of the snow bank. The snow is crunching here as I break through some of the top crust. Oh jiminy if I didn’t step into a crusted over depression and had my right foot hip deep. I put my stick and skates down and used the stick as a brace to pry myself back out. Crap! My boot filled right up with snow. I hadn’t snugged up the clasps tight enough. Never did. Actually I always had them loose and never fastened the top one - ever. It just didn’t look cool to do that.
Well, I don’t think that anyone had seen me so it was funny to me but not embarrassing. But I could tell that the snow in my boot was already melting. Meaning my socks were getting wet which would shorten my skating time before my damn toes froze up. I’ve got to hurry and get to the raft, deboot and brush off my socks.
Done. I’m laced up and ready to go. I pull the puck out my pocket and throw it out ahead of me.
Pond hockey.
There’s nothing like it. Nothing better than it except for maybe holiday hockey.
I skate to the puck and fumble a bit of stick handling. We’ve got some wooden goals with chicken wire and I take a wrist shot. Got a little lift on that. Boy this stick feels good. Did a few cross ice passes to nobody and had to dig the puck out of the snow bank. Good thing the snow had a crust so that I could see the mouse holes that the puck made. I pickup the puck and make a behind the net sweep heading towards the opposite end and take a shot from about 20 yards out. The puck hits the wooden post and bounces out dead to the right. I skate hard for it, cup it in the blade and spin behind the net again. Sheesh! I’m airborne. Just like Bobby Orr in that famous photo but I’m on the wrong side of the net. I hit a damn reed sticking up through the ice behind the net and it stopped my left skate dead as a door nail and sent me flying.
Pond hockey – there’s nothing like it!
You know I wasn’t wearing elbow pads nor shin guards. I landed hard and slid for a little bit. Pond ice ain’t too smooth. And I hadn’t been out long enough for any parts of me to be numb from the cold. Damn that really hurt! My right knee was going to have a decent bruise – again. Later in life I’ll realize that even wearing the best equipment I’ll still end up with swollen elbows, cuts and bruises.
Of course while this shit was happening, Mike White had come out his basement back door and caught the whole friggin incident. Mike was a year older then me and played hockey for the school. Quite a hot shot, later during his junior year he tied with another neighbor for scoring lead for the team. So he yells at me “Way to go Wheats! You skate worse than my old granny.” Well I was pissed but at least someone else was coming out to play. I always appreciated that these guys that were better than me would let me skate with them.
Others showed up later and we managed to get a little shinny going – no lifts allowed. The time flew by and before I knew it one of my younger sisters was yelling from the side that Mom wanted me to come home now. Back to the raft and I work at unlacing with frozen hands on iced up laces. Jeepers I had had fun. I slip back into my snow boots, punch the stick through the skate blades knocking out caked in snow, pitch it all over my shoulder and head on home.
Pond hockey! Yeah, holiday hockey!
I gotta tell ya – it felt good – Walking With Wood!
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