Author: billkammerer

The Action Me: The Story of Man of Action Breaks World Speed Record In Half Dome Climb – Verse 3

We Begin.. Sort Of

…This whole adventure started sometime early in the Year of My Kidneys, 2011, with a discussion among several family members… Specifically, the ones who regularly do the Half Dome hike at least once a year…

More specifically, the ones who aren’t me (Man of Action)…

Not that I haven’t done the hike before – I have – twice since 2005. Both during the daylight hours (at least in the middle of the hike).

The thing that made this particular chapter of “Hey! Let’s do Half Dome!” particularly attractive (to Man of Action, at least) was the part about “And let’s do it at night by the full moon!”

(One must keep in mind that some of them had done the “full moon” version of the trek before. Man of Action, however, was not among that particular group.)

Always ready to keep up with the younger set (and encouraged by the fact that Donna – a couple of years older than me – had done the hike a total of eight (8) more times than I have), Man of Action eagerly accepted the invitation to, once again, put my life on the line and, this time, do it at night… When nobody could see how stupid I was…

Jump ahead, now, several months… (Begin “jumping ahead” transitional music…)

It has now been several months since the house burned down, taking with it 

  • 9 guitars
  • 3 amplifiers
  • gobs of recording equipment
  • 1 grand piano
  • Tons of other stuff including
    • 2 bicycles
    • 1 home gym
    • 1 elliptical trainer
    • 1 pair of hiking boots (downhill persuasion)
    • various weights and other exercise equipment
    • Loads of camping equipment

And making unavailable

  • All of our hiking gear

Plus the fact that we were extremely heavily involved with

  • contractors
  • architects 
  • county building permit departments 
  • tax assessors 
  • suicide counselors

And keeping in mind that, for the previous trips, Man of Action

  • worked up to it way ahead of time – like for 18 months ahead of time…

Add all that together and you come up with a grand total of approximately zero (0) time to train and get ready for the beast…

So, what does Man of Action do to prepare?

6 weeks prior to the big day he decides it might be a good idea to drop a few pounds.

So He did. About 20 of them.

And how did I do it?

Diet. Exercise. Stupidity…

Sadly, emphasis heavily on “Diet and Stupidity” and not enough on “Exercise”.

But Man of Action drank a lot of water – that has to mean something, doesn’t it?

Insert another jump in time here… About 6 weeks worth of the stuff…

July 14, in the Year of My Kidneys, 2011… 11:59 PM… 31 minutes before we embark on the great adventure…

The group, Donna, Shawn, Megan, Brian, Lauren, Nicole and MOA, gather outside the camp site, on the road to Happy Isles – the trail head.

It’s dark, except for the light of the full moon, sort of… Sort of, because it’s also cloudy.

We think we’re ready to go, but we’re not. That’s because Brian informs the group that Lauren may not be able to go because her bladder is leaking..

This raises a concern because there aren’t a lot of restrooms on the 8.5 mile climb to the top of Half Dome.

Happily, though, Lauren makes it clear that Brian is referring to her ‘water’ bladder and not to any physiological parts.

There is still some concern, however, because before joining the group, Brian and Lauren have discussed the matter, and Brian has – somewhat emphatically – stated his belief that nobody in his right mind carries an extra bladder.

“I have an extra bladder, if you want to use it,” says Man of Action.

Brian displays a face covered with egg and not a small amount of shock. Lauren, on the other hand, has the face of an angel that says “Without using my hands, I thumb my nose at you, Brian,” and then continues verbally, “I like your hat, Bill. And I would be happy to use your extra bladder”.

To which MOA gallantly responds, “I have cleaned and disinfected it, so you need not worry about becoming 60 years old before the end of the hike.”

Another 20 minutes to locate, fill and insert it into her backpack, and we were ready to embark…

trailhead
At the trailhead. Left to Right: Man of Action, Donna, Nicole, Shawn, Megan, Lauren, Brian. Flash photography is good.

And so we did…

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Tales Of The Golden Xylophone

Like many people, Judy and I have several email addresses. We learned to do that a long time ago so that we could have a place to point all the spam that might come our way. If you have an email account, you know of which I speak.

Additionally, like many people, we each have our own cellular telephone, and most of our family and friends who would like to call us have our numbers so they can get us at any time they want. (If you don’t have our phone numbers, and you are a friend or relative, or would like to be, just ask us for them and we’ll give them to you.)

Also, like many people, we have a phone in our house. Just one. In a 3,000 square foot house. One phone. Really. It’s conveniently located on the breakfast bar, and as long as you are not at one end of the house or the other, you can usually get there before the fourth ring. If you can hear it. And if you want to. Usually, we don’t want to…

Why don’t we want to? Because it’s our “spam” phone. 95% of the calls that come in on that phone are “junk mail”. Maybe more. So if you call us on that phone, you will most likely go to voice mail. And if you are not a spam caller, you will leave a message and we will return your call at some point. (Yes, we are on the national do not call list.)

I say “at some point” because we don’t regularly check that number for messages – probably once a week, and usually not on the same day of the week. 

On the rare occasion that I do pick up the phone, I am not disappointed. Ever. You can always tell what’s coming when you pick up the phone and say “Hello”. A second or two of dead silence and then “Hello! Is William or Judith Kammerer available?”

Often I will say “He’s my dad and he’s not here.” This, strictly speaking, is not a lie – it’s good to be a Jr..

But sometimes, depending on the time of day, what my mood is and what I’m in the middle of, I will just own up to it and say “speaking.” This has led to several interesting conversations – some of which I wish I could have recorded.

Last night was just such an event…

Ring… Ring… Ring… R-

Hesitantly, “Hello.”

The expected two seconds of nothing, followed by “Hello! Is this William Kammerer?”

I think “Why did I pick up the phone? Should I admit to being me? Am I doing anything right now that I’m particularly excited about doing? Maybe this will be fun?”

I decide that I can spare a minute to see if this is might, at least, be entertaining. I respond in the affirmative.

“Sigh… Yyeess, this is William Kammerer.”

“Mr. Kammerer, I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected, along with forty-four other people in the Coarsegold area, to receive a free Golden Xylophone!”

I’m not sure I heard the man right…

“What?!,” incredulously, “A free what?”

“A free Golden Xylophone,” came the confirmation.

“A xylo – a xylophone?”

“A Golden Xylophone!”

I can’t think of anything to say… I’m completely speechless, though I marvel at this man’s ability to keep a straight “face” saying this because I’m starting to begin to lose my composure.

After a brief moment (the shortest measurement of time, by the way), he continues, “Where would you like to have your xylophone shipped, Mr. Kammerer?”

I’m thinking “Seriously? Maybe this is real and the guy needs a break. He sounds serious. Why isn’t he breaking up laughing right now? How long can I go without cracking up? This has to be a joke.”

I finally answer, “Who is this really?”

“Mr. Kammerer, I represent Xylocorp.”

Have you ever had the giggles and couldn’t stop? No matter how inappropriate the situation? Like at a funeral? This is me, at this point of the conversation – really trying not to laugh and only able to smother it to the point of mild snickers.

“Well, I –  snicker – really don’t need – snicker – another xylophone right now. I have too many laying around the house as it is.”

He lets go a sigh and, with great disappointment, says “You’re the fourteenth  person to say that in the last hour…”

At this point I can’t hold it in any longer and, hurt his feelings or not, I completely fall apart and bust up laughing! 

And at THIS point, he can’t hold it in any longer either and he busts up laughing!

Waaaaiiiitttt a minute…  I recognize this laugh…  

They say that insanity is genetic – you inherit it from your kids. Well, people sometimes wonder where I get my sense of humor… I inherited it from my kids..

All of my kids have a great sense of humor, but one has always stood out among the many… Steve really should be a stand up comedian – seriously.. I cannot tell you how many tears of laughter he has caused the whole family over the past twenty-six years! The kid is hilarious! The best part is that he makes it up as he goes along – some people think I’m good at that, but I’m a complete downer compared to this guy.

In our family, you just have to mention the word “Bustafoo” or the name “Super Water Bottle Rocket Man” and his side-kick “Super Water Baby Bottle Rocket Boy” to elicit a complete tailspin into total chaotic writhing on the floor laughter.

Seriously.

So, Steve, thanks for the laugh last night, all night, this morning and up to and including right now..  

🙂

Love,

Dad

The Action Me: The Story of Man of Action Breaks World Speed Record In Half Dome Climb – Part .5

July 23, 2011

The sixty year old man was semi-sitting up on the gurney in the emergency room, after the forty-five mile ambulance ride from the small mountain town of Oakhurst, just seven miles north of his home in Coarsegold. Oh, he didn’t look sixty, true enough, but right then he was feeling it. He didn’t look sick, either, but right then he was feeling that, too. And, in fact, he was sick… really sick…

He had just successfully completed a solid week of vomiting, dry heaves, sleeplessness and generally feeling worse every half hour of life that he had managed to crawl through. It didn’t help that he had not been able to urinate, have a bowel movement or even fart the entire week – he was feeling somewhat full on the inside, even though  the only thing he could keep down the last four days was hot chocolate. And, of course, there was the constant taste of ammonia in his mouth.. “Where the heck did that come from?”, he thought to himself. 

The x-rays taken in the urgent care facility he had walked into a few hours earlier – for the second time that week – showed massive build up of gases in his abdominal cavity. But the thing that bought him a ride in an ambulance and entrance into the emergency room was the lab report. It was really ugly, and the doctor didn’t even make an attempt to put lipstick on it.

“I’m completely baffled by your lab results – they don’t match what I’m getting from you.”

“What do you mean,” asked the patient, thinking that the doctor thought he might be lying about how he feels.

“Well, I’m looking at you and I see a man who, while he may be feeling under the weather, looks otherwise perfectly healthy and fit.” He continued, “But the lab results show me a man in complete renal failure and ready to have his heart explode at any minute.”

This, naturally, piqued the patient’s curiosity beyond the point where he could shut up.

“You mean I’m dead?”

“No, but I don’t know why not, and you are well on your way.” Then, in an effort to temper the effect of his last statement,  he informed the patient that he was being sent to the hospital. Right now. In an ambulance… 

The admitting nurse, a large man of about forty with vastly thinning hair, was sitting at a computer typing in information from the forms so nicely provided by Todd, the attending paramedic. He interrupted his flying fingers in an effort to become social for a minute.

“Says here that the patient is sixty years old. You don’t look sixty years old and I want to make sure I have the right guy.”

“OK.”

“So how old are you?”

“Sixty”.

““You sure?”

“Pretty sure. “

The nurse gave him a look that said ‘Alright, I’ll use ‘sixty’ for now,’ and entered the ‘information’ saying “OK, sixty years old”.

“Thank you for your confidence.”

“So why are you in my emergency room?”

“I would like to be sixty-one some day.”

This, actually, caused the nurse to smile, though the smile was followed by another inquiry into how the man came to be applying for residence in his hospital..

“It’s a really long story”.

“Can you give me the cliff notes version?”

“I took a hike up Half Dome and now I’m here.”

“Maybe fill in a few more details for me?”

The man agreed and launched into his tale of adventure, intrigue and cutting off his toes…

The important parts of the Lab Report

labresults

The Hi-lighted parts are the parts that would normally have made Man of Action dead.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Click here to read the story of how I got here in the first place…

Click here to proceed to the next part of the hospital stay…

Testing, Testing and Happy (Belated) Anniversary…

Well, a RARE experience here for y’all – something relatively serious (or at least heart felt) from me (On this blog site, anyway)- really…

A couple of days ago I started installing my replacement recording studio equipment (you may remember that the house burned down last year, and took about everything with it). I still haven’t finished, but I wanted to test what I had figured out up to that point. Basically, I got the microphones and monitors working. I haven’t figured out GarageBand, yet, but I was able to test using Photo Booth. 

Judy and I had planned to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary back in July with our family and some friends, but I ended up pretty nearly dying in the hospital for a few weeks, beginning on our anniversary – plans messed up.

Here we are in November, and I’m just about almost nearly back to normal and Judy baked the cake she had planned on baking for the event, last week, and we had our own celebration. As it happened, that was a couple of days before I picked up a guitar for just about the first time in just about forever and got up the energy to set this thing up, so I decided to test it with one of her favorite songs from John Denver..

Happy Anniversary, Judy…

Fingers still recovering… 🙂

The Action Me – Verse Two: Man of Action Shatters Speed Record on Half Dome Hike

                             ” I will go as far as I can go and this ain’t it”                                                                                                    

I would like to begin by introducing the cast of the main characters involved in the making of this incredible story of companionship, encouragement, achievement and survival…

Donna: #2 Spouse-In-Law, F *

       * This classification may require some explanation, so here it is:

  • I have several sets of married children. Each of their spouses is my son/daughter-in-law.
  • Carrying through the logic of the “in-law” tradition and extrapolating it out to the respective parents of the in-law in the equation (as I see it, anyway), this gives these particular parents some sort of pseudo-spousal relationship with the parents of the other spouse in the marriage.
  • Hence, I refer to these parents as “Spouses-In-Law”.
  • Being as I have several sets of S-I-L, I find it necessary to differentiate each set from the other, and then within each set, from each other.
  • I just figured that it would be simplest to number them in the order in which we all became related, so, in this case, Donna is the female half of the second set of S-I-L to connect as clan members with Judy and me. 
    • The order number has no reflection on any preference on my part, just on when our kids were married relative to when the others were married.
  • And, as you may have already discerned, the “F”  would normally be associated with an “M” and would indicate the gender of the party in question within that parenthoodship.
Now, you are probably asking “Why don’t you just say Dean’s parents or Megan’s parents or Lacey’s parents?” To that, I would respond, “Think about who is writing this. It’s me – remember?”
To that (at least if you have read anything else I have written on this site), you should respond with something like, “Oh yeah, that makes perfect sense.”
Megan: Shawn’s wife, my daughter-in-law
Brian: Megan’s brother (I have not yet fully developed the relationship classification at this level. And I don’t think you want me to here, but I am thinking something like “#2 Son-In-law, once removed).)
*Lauren: Brian’s fiance (#2 Fiance-in-law, once removed? #2 Future Daughter-In-Law, twice removed?)
Nicole: Friend of Megan, Shawn, Donna, Brian, Lauren and me (we’re just friends – honest – so that makes it simple)
Shawn: My middle son and third child all around.
Then, of course, there is the supporting cast of
Judy: my wife
Bob: #2 Spouse-In-Law, M
Madeline Rose: Most beautiful baby in the galaxy
*I began writing this on July 16, 2011. It is now October 29, 2011. Lauren has married Brian, which now would (if I go with this convention) make her #2 Daughter-in-law twice removed.
So with all that out of the way, let us move forward…

I completely shattered a record on Friday! I really did! A speed record, no less!

I made the round trip Half Dome hike faster than any human (in the 450 to 550 pound weight class) has ever done it before!

There are, for most people, about 100,000 steps in the round trip,  up and back, to and from the very tippy-top of Half Dome.  How do I know this? I know this because, 5 years ago, two of my closest friends and I did the Panorama Trail hike. That’s about 8 miles from the top of Glacier Point to the bottom of Yosemite Valley.

Dave and I had just purchased some pretty good quality pedometers, and had them fired up and zeroed out when we began our descent. When we got to the end of the trail, we had piled up 47,000 steps.

Half Dome is a 17 mile round trip, so when you add all of that up it comes out to about 100,000 steps.

For most people…

But, friends, I’m here to tell you that I am not most people.  Oh, I keep the same “normal” human being pace as everybody else on the way up, but about two hours into the return trip I begin to walk like ET. For me, you have to add about 50,000 steps.

BUT, and this is important, there are mitigating factors in play here..

For one, I only had my “uphill” boots with me. (Actually, I think I’ll just stick with this one for now. If I need more excuses later on, I’ll throw in as many as I deem necessary to make me not look incompetent.) What the heck is an “uphill” boot and why does it matter? And does it mean that there are also “downhill” boots? And if so, where were mine? And who in their right mind carries two pairs of boots when they go hiking?

In answer to the last question, I would just like to say, “Me”.

In answer to the other questions:

Q: What are “uphill” boots?

A: “Uphill” boots are otherwise normal hiking boots, and have the following qualities:

  • They look really cool on the shelf and on the trail.
  • They cost over $150.00.
  • They grip granite and other natural products with the ferocity of a pit bull with his jaws clenched around a burglar (or a canary, for that matter).
  • Generally, they will keep your feet dry.
  • AND they are about two sizes too short for the length of your toes.

It’s this last attribute that makes “uphill” boots phenomenal for going uphill, but absolutely horrifying for the trip back.

Q:Does this mean that there are also “downhill” boots?

A: Yes, there are downhill boots. They have the following attributes:

  • They don’t look nearly as cool as “uphill” boots. In fact, they are sort of plain.
  • They usually cost about $50.00 (at least mine did).
  • They grip granite and other natural products more than well enough to prevent you from killing yourself trying to walk on said products.
  • Generally, they will keep your feet dry.
  • They are well broken in and extremely comfortable.
  • They also make wonderful “uphill” boots.
  • AND they fit so that your toe nails will not go ramming into the front of the shoe with every step on a decline of more that .0005 degrees.

It’s this last quality that makes “downhill” boots so great for downhill hikes, but also wonderful for going uphill.

Q: Where were my “downhill” boots?

A: They are in “downhill” boot heaven – they went there when the house burned down.

And a special bonus question and answer…

Q: If “downhill boots are great in either direction, why did I even have “uphill” boots?

A: They cost over $150.00. You figure it out from there.

One last thing before we get started here – When I started writing this, I had just survived (pretty much for the third time since July, 2005) the Half Dome trip. Interestingly, shortly after I began writing I spent a few weeks in the hospital because I survived (pretty much for the third time since July, 2005) the Half Dome trip. Had I done what I should have done (die) at the time I should have done it (before I survived it), I would never have started writing this and I wouldn’t have to pick up from where I wouldn’t have left off in the first place.

But, alas, it was not to be. I did, in fact, survive; and I did, in fact, start writing the very day after the survival. That being the case, I need to offer a slight disclosure statement:

Because my kidneys failed, and because I think they are somehow attached directly to my brain, I may not remember everything the way it happened. (I am probably wrong, so you can pretty much accept every word as gospel. I just want to give you an out so you don’t have to feel stupid if you end up believing that I actually beat everybody down the trail and back to camp.)

OK – so now we have that out of the way and we can get started…

Hmmm.. Well isn’t this embarrassing… After all that build up and ground work laying, I don’t seem to remember anything about that hike right now, except for the words “I’ll go as far as I can go and this ain’t it.”…

Bummer…

Well, let me think about this for awhile and I’ll get back with you…

Sorry about that…

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You can click here to go to the beginning…

Click here to go to the next chapter…

Cow Facts Trilogy – The Part Previously Know As Five (5), But Now Known As Six (6): Time To Test Your Knowledge Of Cows!

Yippee-Ki-Yay all you Cow Facts fans out there!

Well, partners, I figure it’s time to get an idea on how much you’re really payin’ attention to the valuable information bein’ made available to you in The Cow Facts Trilogy and, like most tests administered today, there are no wrong answers.

Yep! You cannot possibly pass or fail this test, but it will give you a sense of accomplishment just to know that you won’t do any worse than anybody else! And, after all, isn’t that what life is all about?

If it will help you feel better prepared, you can click on this link (Or just scroll down to the bottom of this page or go to the ‘categories’ drop down on the right side of this page and select “Cow Facts” and start at the beginning) and refresh your memory by reading one or more parts of the trilogy before you take the quiz… 

And when you feel ready,  just click on the words “Take Our Survey” and begin your odyssey into the land of complete and udder ambiguity, where cows rule the roost and ice cream is made…

Welcome to… The Cow Zone...

Take Our Survey!

Click here to go to Part 5 (Which was actually written after part 6 – Go figure.)

The Action Me – Verse One: A Man Of Action

Well, hello again, readers.. It is me, back for another bout of How To Live A Successful Life. This time, we are going to discuss the special benefits of Action over Words.

You know, you may be one of the very incredibly few people living in this quadrant of the galaxy who realizes that I am not much of a talker. I am, in fact, a man of few, if any, words.

That is because, you see, words do not, in actual reality, accomplish anything, if anything, at all. Really.

“So,” you ask (and if you are not asking, please do so immediately), “of what do you speak in such abbreviated fashion?”

Be still, and I will attempt to put it across to you in the very teensy-tiniest most minute quantity of words as is humanly possible, given the fact that I am, of course, loath to utilize any inordinate amount of verbosity in the explanation of the secrets of shutting up and getting things done.

“Action!” Yes, I say “Action”, my friend…

“Action” is what will get us from the very beginning all the way to the very end…

What world needs is “Action”! “Action” is what we need!

And, that being the case, I must now confess, in as few words a possible, that the reason I am nearly always silent in my demeanor is that, as a matter of fact, I am a…

Man Of Action…

Alas, it is true….

I know, I know.. You thought I was just the quiet type.. Shy, soft spoken and, perhaps, just a bit introverted. Quite possibly you believed that I was, to put it delicately, unable to string together more than two or three letter written statements or responses to questions or statements posed to me in any social or business situation.

Well, I can now come out of the closet and assure you that none of that is, in reality, true at all. Behind all of the “reserved” mannerisms you are accustomed to seeing (or reading, as the case may be) exhibited by me exists a veritable level five hurricane of activity. Always…

That’s because I understand that words without action mean nothing, but action without words means you don’t have to talk a lot to be understood and respected.

Consider this… Have all of the words in the history of human speech and writing ever accomplished anything?

NO! Only when words are backed up with action has anything ever been accomplished.

Words can educate us. Words can inform us. Words can even inspire us. But there is nothing so useless as unused knowledge or inspiration. And there is none so inactive as one who will not act!

And that is why I am a Man Of Action…

You do not believe me? Well let me prove it to you right now by taking action to alleviate your doubts…

One of the finest examples of how I am a constant flurry of activity – a blur of perpetual motion, as it were – that I can think of goes like this:

In stead of talking about taking a nap, I would much rather just spring into action and do it.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…



Cow Facts Trilogy – Part Four Again (4 Again): A Cow By Any Other Name…

Everybody likes cows, or, at least they should. That’s because cows are eminently likable. They are gentle creatures who, if they live in California at least, are happy to make us milk and cheese and cream and other dairy products.

Also, properly prepared, they taste good.

Cows have all sorts of wonderful qualities and attributes. Where would we be without them? Think of all of the things that we would be missing without cows (other than the obvious, I mean)…

  • Cowards – without cows, they would just be “Ards” – and who wants to be one of those?
  • Cowcatcher – Without cows, we couldn’t tell if we were talking about railroads or baseball.
  • Cow Pie – without our beloved cows, we would just have pies.  Hmm.. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing…

And perhaps worst of all,

  • Cowboys – without cows, they would just be “Boys”

    • Think about that – we would have to endure an endless stream of “Boy” movies and “Boy” songs and “Boy” tales.

Yes, cows are a part of our every day lives, and we don’t often stop to think about that. So the next time you put on a pair of shoes, thank a cobbler. And if they are leather shoes, thank a cow…

But there are some things that a cow just cannot do…

  • A cow cannot shoot pool.
  • A cow cannot engage in a round of thumb wrestling.
  • A cow cannot shuffle a deck of cards.

But even if a cow could, somehow, be taught to do one or more of those things, there is one thing that a cow can never, ever, ever, in any universe, do…  

A cow cannot, under any circumstances, smell good.

Let’s face it – cows stink.

And because they offend the typical human olfactory senses, they are passed over for many opportunities which are available to people who don’t smell half as bad as the typical cow. (Is that fair? I’ll leave it to you to decide – I’m just reporting the facts, here.)

And this will be our jumping off point for the next installment of The Cow Facts Trilogy…

Moo.

________________________________________________________________

  Click here to go to Part 6 (Which used to be part 5, but was demoted. Don’t ask. Just go there.) 

The Domestic Me – The Institute For Teach Cook: Episode One-A – Cooking: Why I Shouldn’t

Howdy again, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages! It’s time once again for another rip-roaring episode of

The Domestic Me:

Tales of Me Around The Domicile

When we last left our hero at the end of episode one of The Domestic Me, he had just finished explaining that he doesn’t cook much because he doesn’t like trying to find a place for pots and pans in the dishwasher, and so he doesn’t do anything to get them dirty, and so he doesn’t use them in cooking, and so he eats a lot of cold food.

What we  have not been made aware of is the fact that he has since changed his eating habits (gone on a diet – utilizing a well known, though not to be named, program) and has, therefore, been eating very healthily over the past two weeks.

But what THAT doesn’t tell us is that, while he has been eating a lot of fruits and vegetables and other really good stuff and in the proper portion sizes, he has eaten a lot of those things raw. And as he tells it,

“I have really learned to hate raw carrots. I may have to cook something to relieve myself of this misery.”

And so, in the interest of relieving himself of the misery of eating another raw carrot or raw celery or raw lettuce or raw any vegetable or combination of vegetables, he finally decided to dirty up a few pots and pans on some broccoli and green beans..

From Scratch.

Using never been processed broccoli and green beans…

And so, friends, he found himself in the kitchen, alone with just two pots, a pile of green beans, a sack of fresh broccoli, a knife, some water, a stove and the determination to escape raw carrots.

Oh yeah – and a pre-packaged grilled chicken breast with instructions to put it into the micro-wave on high for 30 – 45 seconds or until warm. (Heating times may vary due to differences in microwave ovens.)

This last bit of information was to prove prophetic. But we’ll let his Facebook status updates and their resulting comments tell the rest of the story…

Prelude to “Cow Facts Trilogy – Part Four (4)” – A Major Announcement

Major Notice:

Most of you probably thought that we were done with Cow Facts two years ago. Or, at least, you were hoping we were.

Well, sadly for some of you, this is clearly not the case…

Not only is Cow Facts back in the saddle, it now qualifies (according to my own arbitrary rules for category qualification – the “Bill Kammerer Rules For Category Qualification”) as it’s own category – that’s right! If you search by category and input the words “Cow Facts”, you will be brought to a page that has all of the episodes of this timeless masterpiece gathered in one place…  

Also, you will notice that this is part “Four” (4) of a trilogy. Now, we all know that a trilogy is made up of exactly three (3) parts. So why is there a part “Four” (4)? *

* Lest you think that I am some sort of mathematical moron, just let me say that there are three kinds of people in the world: 

  • The ones who can do math and
  • The ones who can’t.

There is actually a very good reason for that, and I’m going to make it up right here on the spot so that you understand what that reason is.

Explanation:

A one (1) part trilogy would not be a “oneilgy” (though you might refer to it as a “monology”, I guess) because it only has one (1) part and needs no further titular explanation.

A two (2) part trilogy would be referred to as a “dualogy”.

Then, of course, we come to “trilogy”, a three (3) part series.

Then we come to where we would be now if I were going to be here – Quadrilogy – a set of four (4) episodes and then on to five (5) or “pentology”..

If I’m going to knock out four of these things, it stands to reason that I might just keep going on ad nauseam (refer to my biography) until way past the time that the cows come home, so to speak…

I can go on to Part Five (5) and blow through that with no problem, but Six (6) is where I draw the line...

Six (6) would be a “Sexology”, and I’m just not that kind of writer.

Therefor, if I do 137 parts to Cow Facts, it will remain a ‘Trilogy”.

End of major notice…

A Cow By Any Other Name

Posted 6/12/11

News flash!!!  I have a new Cow Fact to report!

Cows smell bad. Really bad.

But I’m hungry now, and I don’t want to ruin my meager dinner thinking about that, so you’re going to have to wait to read about it… 

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Click here to go to part 4

The Linguistic Me: Phase One: Donde Esta El Bano?

Many years ago, when I was a freshman at St. Bonaventure High School, I took a couple of semesters of French. Sadly,  everything I learned in all of that time was limited to the phrase “je ne comprends pas”. It wasn’t much, but it has served me well whenever I have actually been called upon to say something – anything – in French, which hasn’t been very often.

Fast forward about 12 years and you will find me at San Diego State University in a college Spanish class. Two semesters worth. The difference was that I actually learned a few things in those classes, largely because, in the second semester, class was held at Mexican restaurants and we got to use the language outside the classroom. 

Now fast forward again about 20 years…

In 1997, Judy and I went to Puerto Vallarta for 6 days, courtesy of my employer at the time. It was not a business trip, but an anniversary gift trip in honor of my 10th year with the company – I loved that company…

We had a wonderful time! Among other things, it gave me an opportunity to brush up on the Spanish that I had “learned” so many years before. You can imagine that I was a little rusty after not using any of it for all that time, and I was excited to finally have the opportunity to use what I had learned in real life situations with real life Spanish speaking people. 

Yes, at long last, I was going to use phrases like “Where is the bathroom?”, “Beer, please” and “Do you speak Spanish?” in a foreign language and have non-English speaking  folks understand me!

We also brought along an English to Spanish dictionary in case I wanted to say something more than the above mentioned sentences, but after a few days, I was getting into the flow pretty well (by the third day I knew the location of  just about every restroom in  the city  and I had met all kinds of people who spoke Spanish), and we didn’t have to use it as much as we did when we first got there. By mid-week, I was practically one of the locals, language wise, or so I thought..

On Thursday we ventured forth to the one place I was dreading – the local shopping bazar…  I was dreading it because I knew that Judy would want to buy one of each. But I was also looking forward to it because it would give me a chance to ask a LOT of shop keepers for beer and a restroom.

We spent much of the day perusing the shops, Judy looking at all kinds of things to buy (and thankfully not buying that much), and I dazzling the shop keepers with my language skills, so we were both having a great time… 

Finally, we were talking with a shop owner and (in my opinion) I was doing fine with the lingo.. Suddenly, and without warning, the man busted up laughing so hard that tears were beginning   to dribble from his eyelids. I was a bit flummoxed because I didn’t know what he was laughing about, so I pulled out the English to Spanish dictionary to see what was wrong with him. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that, rather than saying what I thought I was saying, I had just attempted to arrange a date between Judy and the man’s dog for Saturday night…

I learned a great deal on our trip to Puerto Vallarta, but these things stand out…

  • I learned that most places there have bottled or filtered water so you can feel safe about learning to say something more than “Quick! Hurry! Tell me where the bathroom is! RIGHT NOW! Por favor.”
  • I learned that Mexican shop keepers will not let their dogs date American women.
  • And I learned that it’s pretty useless to ask Spanish speaking people if they speak Spanish.

It has now been a very long time since I have attempted to speak Spanish in a real life situation, and I believe that I am now ready to venture forth on some new foreign language foray. BUT this time I’m going to do things a bit differently than I have done in the past…

I have decided to become a linguist. Not the kind of linguist who lings normal languages like Russian (Pycko), Taditional Chinese (漢語) or Klingon (tlhIngan Hol).  No, those languages are far too common for me to speak, listen to and teach. The world is already full of people who can speak those languages. 

Actually, I have determined that in order for me to best use my talents as a linguist to further my ambitions and achieve my goals, I need to find a language that nobody else knows. Doing this will afford me the following benefits:  

  1. I will be able to further hone my, somewhat limited, current linguistic skills (hopefully, to something beyond plain English).
  2. This will enable me to practice on other people without the fear that I will make a complete buffoon of myself by requesting a lift to the other end of spoon.
  3. Allow me to monopolize the linguist market in that language, thereby making it possible for me to become the world’s first expert in that language. 
  4. This, of course, will open up vast opportunities for building wealth and enabling me to pay next month’s electric and gasoline bills.  

So, with that in mind, I now begin my quest to find a language that only I know, and I am enlisting you, my readers, to assist me in my search… 

Here’s where you come in…

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Next: Where you come in…

Click here yo read The Fashionable Me…