Tuesday, August 16, 2022

Water, Water

My 15-year-old was asking me about water today, asking, "Dad, what kind of water bottles did you guys have in the ‘70s, and 80's?" Uh, we didn't have water bottles, the plastic ones or the Yeti's or the gym gallon jug (so irritating). I remember when I first saw a plastic water bottle, I said, Nobody will ever buy that shit! I was oh so wrong. And I don't mind people drinking water, water is good. It's the obsession with it, like....like the obsession with sleep! My son is like, I only got 9 hours last night! I'm gonna be small, my testosterone is going down! Meanwhile, all of his friends are up tick-tocking at 4 am and getting up for practice at 7. I don't know how we survived with wolves growling outside the cave and us telling them to shut up so we can get our 8 hours. How the hell did we survive? First off, years ago, nobody brought water up in conversation ever. We would've been like, are we talking about water? Are we talking about practice? And we had hoses. You'd be out riding bikes and you would stop off at a friend's house and turn on the hose and drink from it. Or maybe there was a warm water fountain at the park that you got a drink from. Didn't matter, it was wet. You'd get done playing pick-up basketball at Knollwood Park and your buddy would go into his house and get you a glass of water. Water, water. My doctor wants me to drink 96 ounces of water a day. I'm swimming in water that much. Hell, I ain't even thirsty. I'm forcing myself to drink all this, and my common sense is going, isn't the body smart enough to tell you when it is thirsty? Maybe not, maybe after all these years, the body has become dumb, I don't know. I think I have written about this before, but we had zero water at practice in high school. We chewed ice chips, I shit you not. Nobody said a word. we didn't know any better, I guess. But here is what is strange: Nobody cramped up, nobody got heat-related illnesses, and everybody was just fine. And this is Maryland in August, 100% humidity, 95 degrees outside. Why? I am being serious here. I can think of some reasons but I do not know if they are true 1. We needed that much water all along, we were just oblivious. So are people living longer because of all the water consumed? 2. A) Kids especially, aren't acclimated to the heat, so they dehydrate faster and need more water. B)The heat-related illnesses/ deaths are related to kids sitting inside all the time instead of, again, acclimating and not keeping up with hydration/mineral needs. I see those folks in the morning out walking with like 3 water bottles around a belt. Where are they going, the Mohave? I'd have to stop and piss 10 times with all that water. Oh yeah, I hate water bottles because when we go hunting we see zero trash except for those damn bottles floating by or jammed up at the shore. Sickening. Just drink some filtered water from a steel container, damn. Anyway, that's my rant about water. Drink up!

Sunday, May 8, 2022

Football Life Lessons

 Football is a great sport. I played it from the time I was 9 until I graduated from college. I have heard some say that they learned about life in the weight room, but that is not the case for me. I learned a whole mess of lessons from football. I think that most men learn the biggest life lessons from football, combat sports, or the military. Probably rugby, too, but I don't know shit about it. Those fuckers can hit, though.

Also, it teaches you to respect authority. I know everyone calls their coaches by their first name and shit these days, all buddy-buddy and hugging every time you wipe your ass correctly, but that stuff didn't fly when I was a kid. It was always, COACH, and when he got pissed at you, it was rough. Lots of waking up at 4am to run and up-downs and extra sprints. His word was law, hell, all the coaches' word was law, and I learned a bunch about respecting authority.  I mean, sometimes you wished something bad to happen to your coaches.  They could be pretty tough on a player. But you took it and learned and kept your mouth shut. You know that all that respect stuff doesn't exist today, don't try to lie about it. Kids just do what the hell they want, say all kinds of shit to their coaches like they are on an equal level. Men that coached me smoked Malboro Reds and lined up beer bottles as football players to work on plays. The good ones had a bunch of common characteristics: Patriots, blue-collar workers, tattoos. Some had slicked-back hair like the 50's guys. Some were Marines. I'm sitting here laughing about how manly these guys were. It was so great. My Dad's manly as hell and then I go to football practice and the guys there were real men. I'm not thinking that any of them had a whole bunch of football knowledge, but then again, maybe they did. They taught me how to block and tackle, get in a stance, and all that. That's what I needed. And they cussed a bunch and nobody cared. You'd drive up to practice and the coaches would be leaning on their trucks with their ladders across the top of them and they'd be smoking.  One time, when I was playing 80 or 90-pound football, my coach put a hit out on an opposing player. He didn't like the kid, he had purposefully injured another player. So he designed a play where all of us went after the kid.  That kid was like, what the hell?? Imagine that was done today! On the front page of some liberal mag, "Coach puts hit on player, get's indicted". You know that could happen. 

You learned that you can ignore a whole bunch of stuff, like injuries. People that got injured a lot were looked down upon, it is the truth. If you laid on the ground a bunch on the field, people thought you were a pussy.  I remember this one kid, Donnie, would cry once in a while. We were like 11 years old. I remember looking at him, like crying on the field? Strange. But his family was all messed up, his parents were all messed up with divorce and so we can give him a pass on the crying thing. I guess. If you broke a bone, it was okay. But if you had a pulled muscle or something, you needed to get back in there pretty soon. I remember one time when I was coaching, I had a kid break his thumb and he was lying on the ground. I was like, What's wrong? He says it's my thumb. I say, what's wrong with your legs? He says, nothing. So I say, then stand up. And he goes, Oh yeah, and stands up. Now, coaches tell their players TO LIE ON THE FIELD WHEN THEY ARE HURT. We didn't do that, get your ass up! So it taught you to be tough, basically. And that life isn't fair and people just want to win and things move on without you. I mean, coaches care and all, but you gotta get off the field at some point so practice can continue. And then the season continues with or without you, damn your feelings. There is nobody that worries about your feelings in football.

It taught me how to get along with people. So when I was a kid, all the white folks lived on one side of the railroad tracks, and all the black kids lived on the other side. But we all came together on the football field. Not one problem. I know it's cliche but screw it, damn truth. Football does stuff like that to folks. People don't talk about that very much.

It taught me to be early. You late? get up at 4 and run. You late? The whole team is running because of you. So, you get there 10 minutes early.

There is so much more stuff that I learned from football, but I'm gonna go retrieve with Rebel.  He's begging me. Until next time...

Thursday, April 28, 2022


I live in a prison of sorts. My two sons are like the prisoners and I am the warden. They basically try to get away with everything all day long and I try to catch them screwing up. It is a constant daily struggle. It is war. Every day. They lie so easily. Lies just flow out of their little mouths.  Did you take a shower like I told you to? Yes, Mr. Warden. Have any homework? No, no homework,  Mr. Warden. Any sharp objects in your cell? No, Mr. Warden. Did you do your homework? Yes, Mr. Warden. Did you finish it? Yes, Warden. Are you sure? Yes, Mr. Warden. They will swear on everything, too. When I was a kid, if you swore on your Mom and Dad and you "no crossies counted", the person was definitely telling the truth. My sons don't care! They will swear on everything and "no crossies" and still lie!  All lies. On top of lies, on top of more lies. And they do it so effortlessly. Lying to my sons is something that they do and don't think twice about. Who broke the mirror? Not me! Then I ask the other brother. Not me! So, let me get this straight: I was upstairs, you guys were both in the basement where the mirror is, a loud crash was heard where the mirror is placed, and you guys were jumping off of the couch like Jimmy "Superfly Snuka", but neither of you broke the mirror? That's right, Mr.Warden. I should make them wear orange uniforms and pick trash up by the side of the road. 

Dude, I'm 54 and I have a 15-year-old and a 10-year-old. I have zero patience for all the illogical, lying statements. Why are you not in bed? Because you didn't take me to the gym today. HUH? It's like the freaking liberals. It is illogical, and nonsensical, but makes sense to them. My kids make zero sense, they make such zero sense that they make me think that I am wrong and I am crazy. I think they secretly get together just to mess with me. Them and the dog. They have a big meeting and decide to lie and act all innocent and make me think that I am nuts. I am sure of it. Let's really mess with him, lets's go down into the woods without telling him, and not answer him when he calls and let's take his good boots and put them on, the non-waterproof ones, and then let's walk in the creek and then come back to the house, take the boots off and leave them outside and then have the testicles say that they have no idea why the boots are ruined. Even the damn dog is complicit. He gives me that, "I know nothing" look. 

All these parents with kids the age of mine are all young and energetic. I just wanna hunt, lift weights and drink beer.  I am so done. I see the young parents smiling and happy and energetic when I go to pick up my 10-year-old at school. They are in their 30's, mere youngsters! HA! Try my life! I'm in this supermax prison with these out-of-control schemers who are out to get me. Wish me luck.

Tuesday, April 19, 2022

More Stuff

 I have been reading some depressing books lately. I need a funny book. All I read about is the mafia, Vietnam, and Country Noir. Lots of meth and rough folks, killings in those books. sometimes you finish those types of books and you feel like, dirty or something. Good books, just damn depressing. I need a book that makes me laugh out loud. I laugh a lot in life, though. I get some laughs in, real hard laughing in every day. I laugh at my dog, Rebel. He has lots of personality. He's brave as hell when hunting, but a big old baby when he isn't hunting.  He does funny things for me because God must know that the world is shit and I need some damn laughs.

Have you ever wondered what people are really like? Or rather, why they are the way that they are? I watch the parents at travel baseball games, all screaming and acting like they need attention so bad. And then the guy who is dying to coach but he never played any sport in their life and is all soft looking and keeps sneaking onto the field to act like he is helping but is really just coaching his son. What the hell is wrong with people? He needs a throat punch but would definitely press charges and he definitely likes to wear a mask and send his kid to school with a mask. I often wonder how parents live in a dream world of their kid being great but they really suck and will never even play in high school. Poor kids, all that pressure from their parents who never ever ever ever played past little league.  Why are they here? Why are they taking up space and breathing air? Useless.

I wonder about stuff lately. How this world is gonna turn out? you have to be kidding me if you think that shit is going well right now. Inflation, illegal immigration. This stuff is being allowed to happen. Fuck them all. They hate regular citizens and want to enslave us. And they are open about it. They flaunt it all in your face.  The Patriots will always win in the end. You can complain about cops and Trump all that you want to. Meanwhile, look who you voted for the last time. Yeah, going well, huh? You want to know how America should change? Look what Guliani did with New York years ago. That's what we need. Evil people in this world, taking charge, wielding power, killing to keep their power. Protecting child traffickers and pedos. They are everywhere. Look up stats on how many kids are missing each year. Y'all gonna pay for it all, whether in this life or the next, and it will be really hot where you are going. 

So what's the good news? The people who love this country and will die to defend it are numerous and everywhere. Don't fall for the bullshit. The wackos are just the loudest and control the media. Stay strong, it is coming. It is coming like a freight train with no damn brakes.

Thursday, March 17, 2022


This is the doldrums time of the year right now. I am in South Jersey and we hunt here and fish here and right now all of the geese and ducks are gone, back to Canada. Too cold for the fish to be really biting. My dog, Rebel is pissed. No hunting. I am pissed. Both of us walk around all day alternating between getting excited about Summer and swimming and training outside and being depressed because it's so damn far away. Yeah, I know that this doesn't seem like a problem to most people. It is a problem for me.

Isn't it great when you are young and you don't have any idea that the government sucks? You don't know that our "leaders" are corrupt and have their own agenda and that they are all angling for their own personal gain. Or almost all of them. You just go through the day, all happy and shit. And then one day, you realize that taxes are ridiculous and you have no idea where your money is going. It's like New Jersey with child support. Do you know that the ex-wife can spend that money any way that she wants? She could be buying Meth. Just like the government. You send them all this money and they never tell you what they spend it on. It ain't the roads. They suck. Wait, what do we pay all this money for, anyway? Lots more these days than what we went to war with England over. Makes you wonder. But we just keep taking it. Just taking it. The rich get so much richer. I talk to the people at the grocery store, especially the clerks. Everybody is pissed off at higher prices. Not just a little higher, a lot higher. How much more of this shit can people take? The sentiment with everyone I talk to is that the government doesn't care at all about any of us, and they all ask, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? 

Before anyone ever makes a decision about sending our soldiers anywhere, they should have to send either themselves or their kid. Make em think twice, a bunch of cowards. 

All of it is so damn depressing. The world. Nutty freaking world. don't know what to believe, whom to believe. About anything at all. I am fortunate that my friends are Patriots. They see it all. All of us see it very clearly.

Taking guns away from people is the most sexist thing ever. Isn't that a big deal? Only when it fits some stupid narrative. Say I am a woman who weighs 100 pounds and I am being stalked by a 245-pound man. I'm much weaker than him. I can't get a gun but the stalker can get one easy, illegally, or the stalker can easily just strangle me. The gun that I purchase evens out that fight real fast, right? But by denying her the gun, you make her helpless. Dumb.

Thursday, January 27, 2022

I Remember When

 I remember when

My little league football coach would send us to take a piss in the woods and the coach would yell, after a few minutes,"Let's go boys! If you shake it more than once, you are playing with it." He's be put in jail for that today. Toxic masculinity. 

I remember when

no grown man would be seen with their baby in a backpack/sack type of thing in front of them. Pushing a stroller is bad enough.

I remember when

going to McDonald's was an every 6 month treat, not a 3 times a week regularity for a family. We only went to McDonalds when we won a big football game, or when my mother ate liver, which everyone hated except her.

I remember when

folks went into a gym to train, not to take videos of themselves with their little matching outfits on. Dude, that's so weird. Old days was cutoff sweatshirt, white athletic tape on wrists, Chuck Taylor's, gray sweatpants over the calf. What is this Gymshark stuff everyone wears?

I remember when 

NFL players didn't act like they were on fire and danced like fools when they made a freaking tackle. It used to be cool just to act cool.

I remember when

Nobody worried about concussions, they just f**ked people up and accepted the consequences.

I remember when

Everyone wanted to be Clint Eastwood.

I remember when

 my 80 pound football team rode in the open back of my football coach's El Camino on Interstate 95 and when we went under the overpasses, we all yelled and we sounded so loud. No parents freaked out.

I remember when

going to the movies was a big deal, and the movie theatres were packed on opening night of a big movie, Like Conan. Back when Arnold had testicles.

I remember when

You never saw anyone wearing a mask and hardly anyone ever got sick because we all played in the dirt all day long.

I remember when

Lynyrd Skynyrd ruled my world, and AC/DC and Van Halen weren't far behind

I remember when 

a band had to sing and play instruments to be a band. 

I remember when 

Everyone loved America. There were disagreements, but the vast majority of folks were patriotic. Like, you can say what you want to your family but nobody from the outside was allowed to insult them.

I remember when

You didn't feel as though someone was watching everything that you do

I remember when

freedom was a God given right, not a government given right

I remember when

Walmart sold hunting stuff

I remember when

everybody hunted or at least had a neighbor who hunted

I remember when 

being bored was just part of life

I remember when

nobody got divorced

I remember when

streetfights were just a way of life as a kid

I remember when 

you could bust someone's chops without them getting all offended

I remember when

Kids played outside all day

I remember when

you were thought of as strange if you lifted weights

Tuesday, December 21, 2021

Christmas and Stuff

 Christmas time is a great time of the year. You know what the best part is about Christmas? Well, there are two things: Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. The worst part about Christmas? When it is over. When Christmas is over, it reminds me of the last day of vacation at the beach. Depressing. But, I think that when you are a kid, the time up until Christmas, like the last ten days before, is so exciting, right? 

When else do you get that feeling as you get older? The only thing for me as an adult is the excitement that I get the night before a goose or duck hunt. I get all my stuff ready, making sure I have everything: The calls, the collars, the ammo, all the jackets and lined pants. My coldgear shirt. And my crazy ass dog, Rebel, is getting excited because he can smell it in the air that we are going hunting in the morning. He was licking my shotgun case the other day. Me telling you that he absolutely loves hunting is an understatement. The other day, he had a toenail come off.  If you have had that happen to you, you know that it's not the most pleasant thing in the world. And he was lying in his kennel, all hurt and feeling sorry for himself and as soon as I got my hunting gear out, he was ready to go. That's some dedication and pure intensity.  I feel sorry for people that have never seen a trained dog hunt and see the intensity that burns from their eyes when they are watching the geese come in and when they sprint for the downed bird. Rebel chased down a wounded goose at 80 yards the other day and he was running so fast that it looked like his legs were going faster than his body, or something like that. He was running like I had never seen him run. It is magic seeing a creature going full speed. Pure magic.

 I digress.

Christmas time is also great because you don't have to go to school. I never did like school very much, all those teachers, all miserable. The classrooms all hot because women are always so cold. I would be burning up in there, all the bacteria just growing. All those kids around me. Miserable Principal. 

But Christmas break was a respite from all of that stuff. I could play in the woods, shoot hoops in the backyard, the Cowboys and Raiders would be in the playoffs, it may snow a little, and if it did, we could sleigh ride down the driveway.  We had a steep, big driveway, and you better hang on tight when it turned to ice. 

And then Christmas would come and go, but you still had a few more days off from school. And then it would be New Year's Eve and then the next day, they would have the college football championship, Nebraska vs somebody. And that feeling of dread would start coming on in your brain: School, school, school, and Christmas is over!

Chritmas is still fun for me, but more for my kids, especially for my 9 year old. He is super excited about Christmas. He's counting down the days until school is over and it is Christmas again, just like his Old Man used to do.

Friday, December 10, 2021


 Some fiction that I have been writing lately

I went to the bar around 2 pm today. I had done my training early that morning. I did ten sets of squats, hit the heavy bag for 20 minutes, had written 1,000 words and I decided to hit the bar early. I was in one of those fuck it moods that I get into once in awhile. I get into those moods and there aint nothing that nobody can say or do to get me out of the mood. I cant even predict when its coming or when it will leave. 

Something usually sets me off, I guess. Like today, I was in the convenience store buying some Copenhagen, smiling, holding the door open for everyone, just being Mr.Cordial, and some asshole comes in to the store, all fat and with his belly sticking out under his shirt and he starts treating the clerk like shit and starts to complain about everything; the line is too long, the cashier is too slow, something stupid as hell. And I have to remind myself, I dont want another assault charge and I know that there is no “let's go into the parking lot and settle this” because people are such pussies these days that they call the cops or they sue you for even touching them, so I just begin to take really deep breaths. I count to myself, one, two, three..... deep breaths to calm me down, I mean really deep breaths. Deep down deep breaths, like I’m fucking hyperventilating because I really want to hurt this guy or at least knock his teeth out and send him home to his wrinkle-faced girlfriend who is on government assistance but she really can work, and thinking about all of this infuriates me even more.

But I make it out of the store without any issues and lots of deep breaths and I head out to the bar. I can relax there. I am not trying to get drunk, just to disappear for a while. Katie, the bartender is nice and leaves me be, but never lets my beer be empty for very long. Nobody messes with Katie. She's in her 50's and has been around and is tough as hell and has seen it all and packs a pistol on her hip. 

It is one of those old bars where there aren't a bunch of giggling girls taking selfies. There is Buck in the corner, the Vietnam Vet, playing Keno, and there are a couple of construction workers with their bright neon vests on, drinking Budweiser.

 It's so dark in there that it takes a while for the eyes to adjust and when you walk out, the daylight makes you squint hard

I put Waylon Jennings on the jukebox and the construction workers look at me and raise their long neck beers in acknowledgement of damn good music that they just don't make anymore.

I raise my beer in response and the bartender brings me another beer and says, "This one is on Buck." And Buck turns and raises his glass filled with Crown Royal at me and I raise mine. 

I needed this today.

Tuesday, November 23, 2021

The Yuppie Couple and How it Should Be

I went to Easton, Maryland the other day for the Waterfowl Festival that is held every year. My son was competing in the World Junior Duck calling championships, which he was fortunate enough to win. It's a great festival, with booths featuring hunting clothing, duck and goose calls, guns and ammo. They have a dog diving contest, and they have beer to drink and  fresh seafood to eat. 


What’s great about it is how everyone is so friendly and genuinely nice. It reminds me of when I was a kid in the 70’s. 


I was waiting in line with a bunch of people to buy a pair of boots. It was in a tent, and the boots and the cases of ammo were sitting there. Everyone got what they wanted to buy and then they waited in line to pay. I noticed that there was zero security there, and anyone who wanted to could have grabbed a pair of boots or a case of ammo and walked right out. But nobody did. Everyone waited their turn in the long line. I mentioned the fact to a girl in line with me and she said, "I know, it's crazy." She was from right outside of DC and she was amazed how honest everyone was at the Festival. Also, there was a ticket booth there to pay for entry, but you could have walked right in if you were dishonest . There were no barriers stopping anyone from doing that, from walking right in. But I didn't see anyone doing that, either. 


It was funny when I was hanging out at the duck call booth where my son was working, and you could tell who was a hunter and who wasn't. I am stereotyping here, but the people who weren't hunters stood out like a sore thumb. I can just picture the married yuppie couple living in Chevy Chase Maryland that morning, sitting there, drinking their morning coffee complaining about guns and conservatives as they read the Washington Post, that rag. They are dressed in their matching white robes, legs crossed, pinkies extended. The women says, “Oh look, Honey, they are having a Waterfowl Festival on the Eastern Shore.” “Oh really? I don't know, the Eastern Shore is a bunch of rednecks!”  “Yes, dear, but they have those dogs diving as far as they can and they have music and stuff.” "Okay, Honey, I am all for adventure,  and for doing whatever you say, so let's go!”


And then they get there, and they see all the American flags and big 4x4 trucks and then they get into the festival and most folks are wearing camo and baseball caps, and people are walking around with beers and they are dipping and stuff. The man gets very nervous, because he has never been around folks like that, even the women are wearing camo and then there are guns for sale and ammunition and the woman starts to get nervous. But then everyone greets them and looks them in the eye and everyone is friendly, from the guy cleaning up to the people watching the duck calling contest to the lady at the ticket booth. They couldn’t believe it, because the yuppies had heard that people such as THESE PEOPLE are domestic terrorists, but even though the yuppies are dressed differently than everyone, nobody cared. And there were black people and hispanic people and white people there in camo also, and that blew their mind. The whole way home, they talked about how surprised they were about the people at the Festival. How maybe everything they had heard on the news is wrong, and they start to wonder, maybe the news is fake and wrong. And the husband feels in his pocket for the duck call that he bought from a booth. He also bought a DVD that teaches him how to blow it. He feels something stir inside of him, yes, his testicles reappear, they had been buried way down inside since he was in high school, and he starts thinking about getting outside more and maybe, (God forbid), trying this hunting stuff that everyone was talking about at the festival. In fact, he had a great conversation with a man who used to be a lobbyist on capitol hill, who hunts ducks on the weekend. He offered to take the yuppies hunting, and he didn't even know them, had just met them. People are really like that? He felt like a whole new world was opening up for him.


At one point , after eating a few Chesapeake oysters bathed in Old Bay Hot Sauce, I grabbed a locally brewed beer and stood out in the middle of the festival, and I watched what was going on, and I began laughing. It's about an hour from Easton to Washington DC, but I was thinking that it might as well be on the other side of the world. I started to think that maybe if all of the wackos who hate this country would come to a festival like this with an open mind and then get out there and go hunting or shooting, that the world would be a whole lot better. I felt recharged when I left there. I hope the yuppies did, too.


All About Being a Lifer

What's a Lifer? Someone who isn't in to something for just a day, a month, a year...it's for life. Whether its training or your family or your job...it doesn't matter. You work at it, you build on it, you see the big picture . You don't miss workouts because it means something to you. You are like a Shakespearean actor- no matter what is going on in your life, you block it out when it's time to train. You walk into the weight room and all else disappears. Worry about it later.