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June 22, 2010

Won't You Pack Your Bags And Leave Tonight?

Let me start off by saying, I'm not an Eddie Money fan, and can't for the life of me figure out why it has become a tradition that he open DTE Music Theater every summer?

Traveling for work stinks, and that is when everything goes well.  When something goes wrong, traveling is right up there with taxes and root canals.

Back in May, I had to travel to our aluminum manufacturing facility in Franklin, GA southwest of Atlanta.  I thought this trip was going to go well as I was able to find a direct flight out of Flint (as opposed to Detroit, Flint airport is closer to my home, and much less of a hassel...so I thought) cheaper than I could out of detroit.  I was departing just before 5pm, which put me in ATL at 7pm, and I would be settled into my hotel before 9pm...so I thought.

While driving from work to the airport, I got a call from Delta, seems my flight has been delayed about an hour.  No big deal, I actually had a warm fuzzy feeling at this point, thinking how nice it was that Delta called me to inform me so I wasn't stuck in a terminal at the airport.  I used the opportunity to grab a burger at Fuddruckers in flint.

While enjoying a delicious burger and chocolate shake at the previously mentioned Fuddruckers, I get another call from Delta, informing me that my flight was delayed again.  This time about 30 minutes.  Hmmm, the warm and fuzzy feeling is now more of a room temperature normal feeling.

So I hang out at the FR's a bit more, and mess around with my Blackberry.  No more calls, so I head to the airport and to the terminal, where little did I know I was about to wait for another two hours for the inbound plane I was trying to go outbound on to arrive at FNT.  8:30pm, almost 4 hours later than scheduled, we board the plane.  Then we get to wait on the tarmac an additional 35 minutes because of additional delays.  9:10, we finally took off.

My warm fuzzy feeling is a full on cold prickly one!

I got settled into my hotel at around 1am, thankfully I'm too tired to be mad at anyone or anybody, so I just go to bed.

BTW, what does Delta think 4 hours of your time is worth?  Fifty bucks, and I would not have gotten that had I not asked.

So thankfully the trip itself went well.  Good meetings at work, and I actually go to take in a Braves game.

Then I got to go home, and the fun began again.  Seems right as I was heading to the trains at Hartsfield Airport in Atlanta, there was smoke coming from one of the train stations under the airport.  Had the trains stopped, and they were not letting anyone through, so hundreds if not thousands of people were stranded in the basement of an airport where there may or may not be a fire.

I chose to head backwards against the flow (or herd) of people.  If there was a fire, I was heading for higher ground as soon as I could.

Here is a link to the story on the debacle:

http://www.myfoxatlanta.com/dpp/news/fire-smoke-atlanta-airport-concourse-051910

So after about an hour they open the tunnel back up.  The trains are still not running, but they are letting people in there, you could get down there easy enough, but moving once down there was a different story.  I estimated the walking pace to be abour 0.005MPH.  It is now 2pm, and I have a 2:45pm plane to catch.  I quickly realize at the pace I was traveling, making my flight was going to be tricky.  I was not quite to concourse 'A', and my flight was leaving from concourse 'D'.  I happened to be walking next to a pilot, and he informed me that concourse 'D' was "around a mile from where you are standing right now."

Now I realize that making my flight is not going to happen if it is on time.  I decide to head up the escalators at concourse 'A' to check the status of my flight.  This would prove to be a mistake, as this is what I was greeted with at the top of the moving stairs:

So I missed my 2:45, and now there are no direct flights to Flint until 8pm that night.  What a stupid idea flying out of Flint!

I do end up catching a 3:40 flight to Detroit, where my wonderful wife Kari picked me up so I didn't have to connect to Flint in Detroit.  Kari would have to drive me to Flint to get my car.

We did end up grabbing a bite to eat at, of all places, Fuddruckers, where it all began 3 short days ago!

Thanks for stopping by -- Dan

 

August 03, 2009

Japanese Wonderment

Recently while playing on my Monday night softball league, I was somewhat taken aback by what I saw a group of Japanese softball players do.

There is a team that plays in a different division the same night and place that I do. (Monday's in Novi).  The team consists of 100% Japanese players, and they seem to be decent enough players, but my team hasn't played them (and won't being they are in a lower division) so I don't really know.  Besides this entry isn't specifically about their softball skills, so how good or bad they are really doesn't matter.  Not sure if they work together or live together, or are part of some evil plot by Toyota to finish the take over of Detroit, I just know they play softball together on Monday's and their team name is "The Bombers".

While my game was wrapping up (another win by the way), the aforementioned Bombers were begining to congragate for their game.  I noticed one of the teams fans (they have incredible fan support by the way) hollering and pointing at another Japanese girl who looked to be in her early teens.  The hollering fan was probably a grand mother, as she looked to be in her 60's, but my age meter scale could be off, because it hasn't had the proper ethnicity calibration performed on it yet.

At any rate, the Japanese Grandmother was pointing at the Japanese teeny bopper's shoes and was yelling something.  She seemed excited and was somewhat laughing, but I wasn't sure what she was saying as my comprehension of the Japanese vocabulary is very poor...actually poor isn't the word I'm looking for, non - existant is probably a better term.

As she was pointing, an older...non playing (again outstanding fan support) Japanese man began to talk, and make a motion with his hands.  He held his hands flat, and pushed them out from his chest away from his body.  With this he added a "wooshing" sound almost as if he was describing an airplane flying through the air (remember the team name is the bombers).

At this point, the teeny bopper popped up on her heels, and I realized what all the comotion was about.  The Japense girl had on a pair of Heely's, you all know the shoes with the single roller skate wheel in the heel, this was what was causing all the rucus!!!

She began to "Heely" (not even sure if that is a verb) around the ball diamonds, and as she did this caught the attention of almost the entire Bomber team and it's fans.  They stood and watched her meander around them, silently mumbling and laughing to each other.  This wasn't for a few seconds, several of them watched until I got bored watching them.  This is why I was somewhat dumbfounded.

Japan, the country that has brought us such things as the walkman, the electronic calculator, Godzilla, LED lights, floppy disks, and Ichiro, just to name a few, had 20 or so of their transplanted citizens mezmorized by a tennis shoe with a wheel in the heel.

It was truly a unique sight to behold.

Thanks for Stopping By - Dan

 

June 06, 2009

Not As Young As I Used To Be

Sorry for the lack of posts.  Between work being crazy, and trying to get two race cars ready to run this season (one of which just blew up, check back for that blog), blogging has had to take a back seat.

But an event over memorial day weekend, gave me a good topic to write about that I'm sure most of you will find funny, and will be able to relate to.

I accepted an invitation to go mountain biking at some trails near my house with some guys from work.  the work guys actually wanted to go to a different trail, and I suggested a different trail (that we agreed on) a little more centrally located....this suggestion would prove to be a mistake.



Keep in mind I haven't ridden so much as a few feet down my driveway this year let alone on any trails.  One of the guys I was riding with used to do mini triathlons, and runs and bikes all the time.  He is about 5' 7" 135lbs, and has a full suspension bike.  I knew there was no chance to keep up with him.  The other guy is a bit older (late 40's), and not as fit looking, but rides at least once a week, and rides 15 miles to and from work when the weather permits.  He has a small gut (like yours truly), but I figured I could hang with him at least for 4 or 5 miles.  Bottom line is I knew it would be rough, but I had no idea how bad it was going to be.

I did ride the bike a bit down my road on Sunday night, and everything worked.  I put some air in my "vintage" Rock Shox MAG 10 to add some strength to it, it was a little spongy.  I couldn't find my bike pump, so I dialed down the PSI on my compressor to 20, and figured I would be ok. This also would prove to be a bad decision.

We agreed to meet at 9am, I was very excited to ride.  Every summer I say I want to ride a couple times a week, and never seem to be able to make time, so I was happy I was finally going.  Because of this excitement, I was 12 minutes early and the first to arrive.

We head onto the trail with the triathlete in the lead.  Not 100 yards into the trail, I hit my first rut, and my bike violently “jolts” into my arms.  It is now that I notice my front shock was bottomed out.  The triathlete just so happens to have a front shock air kit and we attempt revive the shock, and again, it works for a bit, but the shock slowly falls.  This time with the caps off the pin hole, you can hear air slowly leaking out.  He asked me if I tried to pump it up with a compressor (hey, how the f--k did he know that)?  I replied that I did, but only at 20psi.  "Nope", he said, "you can't do that, you probably blew out the upper seals, that is why it isn't holding any air.  You will have to get this rebuilt".  Sweet!!!!  Before I just felt like someone out of shape, now I felt like someone out of shape…who is an idiot.
 
So we continue our ride, me with no front suspension.  Now the Raleigh used to have a solid front fork, but I never remember it being as rough as it was on Memorial day.  I felt every little rock, rut, root, and pebble that the trail had to offer.  It was beating me senseless, I don't know how I ever rode without a front shock.  Probably me being 20 had something to do with it.
 
The ride started out well (aside from the above mentioned bumps sending jolts through my wrists, up my arms, and into my shoulders).  The older guy got on the front brakes a bit too hard going down the first decline, and sent himself over the handle bars.  He was ok, which meant it was ok to laugh uncontrollably at him.
 
The first couple hills were tough, but not too bad.  the trail we were on is very technical, with mostly single track stuff, a lot of switch backs, and "rugged" terrain.  I was keeping up pretty well with both guys, although I think the triathelete was WAY off his internal throttle.

About half way through the 3.8 mile loop, I really started to feel it.  I wasn't really winded, but my back hurt, my wrists were starting to ache, and my thighs were SEVERELY burning (and yes, my pussy was sore)!  Now even the smallest hill was tough, and if there were any obstacles in the hill, it became almost impossible.  It took all the energy I had in me to climb the hills, if I needed a little extra, it just wasn't there.
 
My two work buddies were long gone, but waited for me at a small clearing in the trail.  I informed them then that this 3.8 mile loop would be the extent of my ride for the day, not to wait for me, and if they wanted to go further, they didn't have to wait for me.  I was out of shape, had no legs for this trail, and it was showing.  They told me not to worry about it, and saying some other things in an attempt to make me feel better, but the bottom line was I felt old, fat, like a wuss, and out of shape, not necessarily in that order.

Finally I got tired of being such a big puss, having to walk up almost every hill having roots ¼” above the earth giving me all kinds of fits, so I hit a hill that I determined I was not going to fail at.  I was going to keep making circles (biking term) and get to the top, no matter what happened.
 
The good news:  I accomplished my goal, and beat the hill, making it to the top
 
The bad news: I was THE most tired I have been on the entire ride, and now I had no energy, not just to ride up hills, but to ride PERIOD!  At the top of a hill was a small flat trail, and it was all I could do to pedal to keep myself going.  Finally there was a downhill section where I could coast.
 
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh coasting, nothing better, especially not at this exact moment in my life.
 
The work buddies were waiting for me one more time, and the last turn off before the trail head.  They said they were waiting to make sure I knew where to go.  I truly believe they were waiting for me making sure I wasn’t passed out or worse somewhere on the trail. 
 
The older guy mentioned how this was a “tough trail” and how the trail he wanted to go to would have been an easier ride for me.  Remember it was my idea to come to this particular trail, a decision I most certainly was regretting.
 
Just over a mile was left, and I was spent, I already knew that Tuesday was going to be rough, and I had to find a place to service a Rock Shox MAG 10 that I purchased 15 years ago, and that they probably quit making 10 years ago.
 
By the way, 3.8 miles, that was it, this is what I struggled with, not even 4 f—king miles, 3.8.
 
SIDE NOTE: There is a place in Colorado called Hippie Techs that will service the shock.  Quoted price was $150 - $200.  For $135, I can get a new shock to replace it…installed.  This is what one bike shop told me, the other said there is “nothing you can do for that fork”.
 
I guess the silver lining is that I can’t wait to go again, riding is so enjoyable, so much fun, and such a good work out, but you don’t feel like you are exercising, it is enjoyable.  I hope to replace the front fork, and go again as soon as I can.  I would like to try to go once or twice a week, and on the weekend when I can.  It was a blast, and with so many good trails in the area, there is no excuse not to enjoy it.

Thanks for Stopping By - Dan

March 15, 2009

Unconditional Support

A good friend of mine recently sent out an email with a story, and some of his view points that got me a bit fired up, and reminded me of a couple of stories that I thought I would blog about.

This friend has some more consertative views such as my own.  He believes like I do that no one is going to do anything for you, if you want anything in life, the best way to get it is to go after it and get it yourself.

Here is the piece from the email that I 100% agreed with, and what got me to thinking about this post:

"He also talked about accountability and how no one has to be accountable for anything anymore.  Basically its ok to fail, someone will take care of you.  In my opinion its now traveled down to kids sports  - "Everybody is a winner"  there are no loosers in some of the kids sports anymore -Bullshit, get out there and compete.  Its what drives us to be better at anything we do." 

As I already mentioned, I agree with my friends comments that the "there are no loosers, everyone plays, regardless of how good they are, we don't keep score in this league" mentality that society seems to be adopting, actually hurts kids in the long run.  His little rant caused me to think of several things.

The first was an article I read a while back about how college professors and employers are becoming increasingly frustrated with kids entering school and the work place, because they can't take any critcism of their work.  They've never had it before.  It has always been, "good try", or "as long as you did your best, that's what counts"  There was no accountability for failure or sub-par work.  As anyone who works in the real world knows that shit won't work, and leads to short term employment.

The second thing I was reminded of was a scene from Meet the Faulkers (the second Meet the Parents) when Gay Faulker's Dad is showing off his sons trophy's and accomplishments.  He shows Robert Dinero a 5th place ribbon.  Dinero replies, "I didn't know they gave out ribbons for 5th place."

The next thing I thought of was an interview with GM's Bob Lutz, you know, the Current Vice Chairman of Global Product Development for GM, almost single handedly responsible for the development of the Volt.  The guy who over saw the Viper, Prowler, and LH vehicles at Chrysler (even if you didn't like the Intrepid and Concord, they saved Chrysler once again in the early 90's) while he was president of the company.  He also was responsible for initiating the Ford Explorer, which Ford sold a few of over the years.

In the interview, a question was asked to him how he got into cars.  He said as a kid he liked to draw sketches and concept vehicles.  As he got older he started to show them to his dad, and his father would basically tell them that they were ok, or pretty mediocre, but he didn't think he had much of a future as a car designer.  One of the DJ's was taken aback by his dad's answers and said, "nice support from your dad." in a sarcastic voice.  Lutz's reply was that he was glad his dad was honest with him, it made him realize that he WASN'T a good designer, and therefore he didn't waste anytime pursuing it in college, and instead went into engineering, production, and management.

It would appear, from the outside looking in anyway, that things worked out ok for him.

The final story takes me back to a field day at Country Elementary when I was in 3rd or 4th grade. 

My Dad made the trip to watch, which was a pretty big deal, since he worked in Detroit, and had to take the better part of a day off to make the hour drive to Pinckney in time to watch the events.

I had entered into a bunch of races, and did not have a good day from a ribbon standpoint.  I don't remember exactly how many races I entered, but I don't think I got one ribbon.  I was pretty pissed about not winning anything, and was sulking and pouting during the ride home with my dad (another bonus of him showing up, I could skip the bus).  He would try to talk to me, and I wouldn't say anything, because I was upset about not winning.

What I remember my Dad telling me wasn't "well you did your best", or "you'll get em next time", or any type of an attaboy.  Instead I remember him asking me what I was going to do to get better for next time.

Two comments stick out to me from this short ride home, that I remember to this day.  Actually I don't know if they were comments, or life lessons, is maybe a better term.

The first was him telling me to remember this feeling that I had right at this moment.  How upset I was, and how I didn't like loosing like I did.  Use this feeling to work harder, practice, do what I could to try to get faster, so the next time I entered a race, I would have a better chance to win.  Don't use a loss to pout and cry, use it to work even harder, and strive to not let a loss happen again. 

The second was him telling me that maybe entering all running races wasn't the best plan.  At first I didn't understand what he was saying, who cared what I entered, I lost, that was the point.  He mentioned to me that maybe I wasn't the fastest kid in my class.  Maybe my strength wasn't my flat out running speed.  Maybe I should have entered some different events, maybe a throwing event, maybe an obstacle course, or a jumping event, something to that effect.  Something that plays on my strengths, and not my weakness of being a slow ass kid. (ok, that last part was my words, my Dad might have been trying to teach me a tough lesson, but he didn't call me a "slow ass kid")

I still use these two lessons to this day.  I've been chewed out by a boss, or a customer before.  My instinctive reaction is to try to learn from the ass chewing, try to figure out exactly what they were expecting from me, what I failed to do for them, and use that for the next time I have to do something for them so I don't get chewed out again.  I use the feeling of humility and embarassment in the moment, that helpless feeling you have as your boss belittles you, to try to never let it happen again.

I also think I recognize things that I'm good at and try to tackle those tasks.  Tackling tasks that I know I'm good at will utlimately make me more successful, at what I do, and (hopefully) people will notice these things.  At the same time, when I'm asked to do something that I know I might not be as strong at, I try to recognize this as soon as possible, and do things to eliminated the weakness.  Research online or in books, ask co-workers for help, call suppliers, or trade organizations, etc, anything to try to make the task more successful.

We are raising a generation of wimps, and people who expect things to be given to them or done for them, beit from thier friends or family, or from the government.  For the sake of the country (no I don't think I'm exaggerating) this has got to stop...quick!

Thanks for Stopping by - Dan

March 01, 2009

Random Thoughts Randomly Running Through My Random Brain

Recently trying to come up with something to post, I would think of something I thought might be worthy of a blog topic, but then realized the idea could not fit what I think is a "full blog".  My wife...who thinks my blogs are too long, said they could be short, but...as some of you might have already figured out...I feel my posts need to have some "substance". 

So stealing an idea from Sports Illustrated's Peter King's 10 things I think I think, I went with Random Thoughts Randomly Running Through My Random Brain.  I may do this from time to time in the future, just various items that have drawn some of my interest since my last post.

So with no further adeiu, here is Random Thoughts Randomly Running Through my Random Brain for March 1st, 2009:

1.)  I saw a bumper sticker on an Explorer on my way to work on Satruday that was for the Mystery Spot in St. Ignace, MI.  My thought was, did this person visit the Mystery Spot, and think that it was so over the top fantastic, that their first thought was, "Oh, I have to get a bumper sticker to put on my Explorer!!!"

2.) One button on a pair of pants is plenty.  I recently purchased some new casual pants for work that have two buttons.  I become 1/2 as efficient as I could be every time I go to the bathroom the instant I put them on.  These are almost as bad as butterfly 501 jeans.

3.) There is no such thing as reverse discrimination.  Sometimes when African Americans exhibit hatred towards Caucasians people will say that is "reverse discrimination".  Discrimination is discrimination, no matter who it is towards.  Reverse discrimination would be the opposite of this, essentially meaning you are overly nice to someone of a different race, and this really isn't a bad thing.

4.) An outfit is not sexy.  No article of clothing should be marketed as "sexy".  It is not the clothing that is sexy, but the person that is wearing the clothing that is sexy.  A person makes an outfit sexy, not the other way around.

5.) I'm probably late for half my appointments.  At work (for meetings and such), this number probably drops to 25%.

5a.) My wife is going to tell you that my half estimate above is way too low!

6.) I love the smell of diesel exhaust, have since I first smelled it in middle school when some of Pinckney Community Schools new busses were diesel powered.  This might be when I started to like diesel engines.  That, and the fact that one can easily produce over 1000 ft-lbs of torque at around 1500 RPM...incredible.

7.) I have mixed emotions about the ban on smoking in Michigan bars and restaurants.  I hate going to bars, having trouble breathing, and coming home with clothes and hair that reeks of smoke.  I also hate the government telling us what we have to do.  Actaully as I type this, I realize that although I'm not a smoker, I'm against the ban.  If you don't like smoke, don't go to bars with bad smoke.  Let the bar and restaurant owners decide if they want to allow smoking or not.  If it is a good idea, the places that ban smoking will thrive, dropping business at their competition, who will follow suite, or close.  If it doesn't work, thier business will drop, and they will allow smoking again.  It sounds pretty simple, and like the way the free enterprise system is suppose to work.

7a.) When did society begin to think the government is there to provide us with everything we need?  Healthcare, college tuition, housing, income, where does it stop?  It seems to have gotten worse in my lifetime.  Every person should be responsible for their actions, and providing for themselves, and children until they are old enough to do so for themselves, and the cycle repeats itself.

7b.) I remember that a girl in Ms. Cavanaugh's 3rd grade class could spell restaurant correctly, I never could, and I was jealous of her.  Now, 25+ years later after typing it a few times in number 7 above I realize that I still can't spell it and had to look it up.  This no longer makes me feel jealous, I just feel dumb.

8.) I believe in aliens.  If we the people on earth are the smartest people in the universe, then the universe is in big trouble!  There has got to be something else out there.

9.) I have wanted a tool shed since I bought my first house in 1999.  I'm very excited because it looks like I will get one this spring! 

10.) I really wanted to come up with 10 things, and will be slightly short, but since I have a "5a", and "7a", and a "7b", I technically have 12, so I'm stopping for the night.

Thanks for Stopping By - Dan

 

December 14, 2008

The Turkey Sandwhich

The post below was actually from October 6th 2008 during my trip to Las Vegas to visit the Fabtech show at the Las Vegas Convention Center.

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I'm trying to kill some time to keep from blowing even more money down in the Casino, so I will share with you my flight story on my way out to Vegas for the Fabtech show (hey maybe my job aint so bad).

I decide since you now have to pay for a meal on all NWA flights that I would buy something to eat at the airport.  Suprisingly I'm on schedule, so I have time and stop at Charley's Subs down at the north end of the terminal by my gate.

I board the plane, and decide that I'm going to eat my turkey and cheddar sandwhich later and will save it when they do the beverage service.  I set the sandwhich on my lap but all I can smell, and so I can only imagine all the people within three rows of me can smell is turkey and cheddar.  Being the courteous flyer that I am I decide to put the sandwhich down on top of my computer bag, which eliminated the smell issue (from the sandwhich anyway).

As we are taxing out to the runway, I already feel the need to stretch out, and do so by placing my right foot on top of my computer bag and pushing forward until I can feel the stretch in my thigh.  Just as I'm loosening up as much as you can on an airplane, and feeling a bit relaxed, it hits me...MY SANDWHICH!!!!

You guessed it, I pushed my own sandwhich with my own foot up under the seat so I can neither see or reach it with my hands or my feet. 

BALLS!

I slowly pull my computer bag towards me hoping the sandwhich is lodged on my bag and will come back with it, averting any catastrophic meltdowns on my part.  I pull the bag all the way out and no white take home food container is with it.

DOUBLE BALLS!

Now I paid 6.75 plus tax for this baby (sandwhich only), so there is no way I'm letting this thing get away.  I tap the woman in front of me on the shoulder, and ask, "Excuse me, but is there a white food container at your feet?"

She replies something in some sort of swahili language that I couldn't even begin to pretend to understand.  I then make some hand gestures in hope there is some sort of universal hand signal for "white food container" similar to the one for choking, but since the man next to her picked up the NWA World Traveler Magazine and motioned as if to ask that is what I was asking for, I realized there was no such signal.

I begin to get furious in my own head and ask myself, "how can a couple that speaks no english make it from whatever country they floated over to the states from and make it all the way to Vegas?"  I then begin to realize that wasting such energy will do nothing to get my beloved sandwhich back, so I calm my self down.

It is now that I think back to what little I retained from any physics that I had during my schooling and I start working on plan B.

Plan B was to pray.  My prayer went something like this:

Dear lord, when we make the turn onto the runway, and the pilot throws all three engines to WOT please, please, please let my sandwhich slowly slide back to me allowing me to enjoy a decent meal, and not have to pay again for whatever the airlines are offering me.

The pilot announces to the flight attendants to prepare for take off and cross check...

SIDE NOTE, WTF is cross check anyway...

...I pull my computer bag onto my lap, which I'm well aware is a violation of safety rules, all bags must be properly stowed above you or under the seat in front of you.  I know if I'm questioned about this, I will explain the story about the turkey and cheddar, and the flight attendant would understand and let me hold the bag.

As we make the turn onto the run way, and you feel the engine power start to come up, all the passengers are going through their take off routines.  Some lean their heads back and close their eyes, some couples hold hands, some people chew gum.  I was totally 100% focused, looking directly down just in front of my feet waiting and hoping that I would see a 4" x 8" container slowly slide back into my possesion.

We are trucking down the runway, and the front of the plane slowly begins to lift.  Shortly after the front wheels lifted off the ground, it appeared, my Charley's Sub turkey and cheddar sandwhich with honey mustard dressing.

I was happy, I can't remember the last time I was so happy.  I thank the lord over and over again.  The guy next to me who must have been paying better attention than I thought simply said, "hey, you got it back".

Yes I did, I got it back.  I say this my friends with the utmost sincerity, I have never enjoyed a more mediocre sub in my life, and probably never will.

It was delicious.

December 13, 2008

What do I want to write about?

So welcome to my new blog.  In preperation for this latest item that I'm suppose to keep up that I have no time for, I was researching what to type in your blog.  Most of the suggestions boiled down to stuff that you know about and are passionate about.

I'm really not an expert on anything, actually I AM NOT an expert on anything.  I do love racing and probably know more about drag racing and cars than most people, and you can bet to find a number of topics on those two items (and there is a lot of people that know WAY more than me).  Topics relating to the Dakota X and Gremlin X on the track, work on both vehicles.  Stuff with vehicles and motorsports in general.  Like if I were to type one right now, it would say how work...as usual...has started slow this year, and we will be thrashing...as usual...to get the cars ready for the 1st race of the year.

I'm passionate about sports, and more specifically baseball and the Detroit Tigers, so there will probably be a number of topics on the Motor City Kitties as well.  Like if I were to type one right now on the Tigers, it would state how I'm overall disappointed in the offseason moves so far, and the Tigers still didn't adequately address their pitching needs for next year, still have too many "if's" on the roster, and will finish around .500 with 80 - 85 wins.

But at the end of the all of it, I decided that I'm going to write about whatever I feel is necessary that day.  A couple months ago I went to Vegas, and emailed several friends a story about the "issue" I had with a Turkey Sandwhich I purchased at the airport.  In the future, I will post that on this blog...actually I think that will be my second blog, so stay tuned.  Anything I feel like will come up here.  It will be mostly racing and sports related, but don't be surprised if politics, social topics, or any general topics make it into type on this blog.  I will prove that any idiot can register for a blog and type whatever they feel like without any research, investigation, or accountability for what is published.

One other note: I've always been good at math and had an interest in mechanical things.  This is probably why I got into cars and racing and became an engineer.  Please keep in mind that I AM an engineer and am not very good at, nor do I care much about proper grammer and writing.  Though I will do my best, I can assure you that you will find a number of grammatical errors, spelling erros, and sentences mis-worded.  Don't comment or email to let me know that I made this mistake, spelled this wrong, or typed that mistake.  I'm sure my wife will be more than happy to point all of those things out to me, and there is no need for me to hear about every mistake twice.

So I hope you check back often, and more times than not are entertained, and possibly informed by this blog.  Thanks for stopping by and reading, Merry Christmas, and have a wonderful new year.

-Dan