~Jason

~Jason

The Guys’ Rules

At last a guy has taken the time to write this all down.

Finally, the guys’ side of the story.  (I must admit, it’s pretty good.)

We always hear “the rules” from the female side. Now here are the rules from the male side. These are our rules!

Please note… these are all numbered “1” ON PURPOSE!

• 1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You’re a big girl. If it’s up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don’t hear us complaining about you leaving it down.
• 1. Sunday sports. It’s like the full moon or the changing of the tides.  Let it be.
• 1. Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are never going to think of it that way.
• 1. Crying is blackmail.
• 1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!
• 1. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.
• 1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That’s what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.
• 1. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.
• 1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.
• 1. If you won’t dress like the Victoria’s Secret girls, don’t expect us to act like soap opera guys.
• 1. If you think you’re fat, you probably are. Don’t ask us.
• 1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.
• 1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.
• 1. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.
• 1. Christopher Columbus did not need directions and neither do we.
• 1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.
• 1. If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that.
• 1. If we ask what is wrong and you say nothing,” we will act like nothing’s wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.
• 1. If you ask a question you don’t want an answer to, expect an answer you don’t want to hear.
• 1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine…Really.
• 1. Don’t ask us what we’re thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as baseball, the shotgun formation, or monster trucks.
• 1. You have enough clothes.
• 1. You have too many shoes.
• 1. I am in shape. Round is a shape.
• 1. Thank you for reading this. Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight; but did you know men really don’t mind that? It’s like camping.

Pass this to as many men as you can - to give them a laugh.

Pass this to as many women as you can -  to give them a bigger laugh!!

~Jason

But no cache.

Lucas is ready to give up on Geocaching. The only thing keeping him going now is that I am trying to be enthusiastic. But it’s not fun searching through dirt and brush, getting leg scratches from thorn-trees and Junipers, and nothing to show for it. We better have a success soon or I’m finished with GeoCaching!

~Jason

The trip in to the spot was really fun, but exhausting— all the climbing up and down hills. The deer flies and mosquitos were relentless! When we finally gave up the search we jumped in the lake right there for a swim to wash off the apparently tasty sweat we’d earned. It’s about 1.3 Klics in, so almost 3 kilometers of walking up and down hills.

We had a great time. The view was amazing, the rain was refreshing, the swim was exhilerating. Though disappointed, we are not disheartened. When we get back home to Hamilton, Ontario, we’ll try to find an easier cache to whet our confidence.

~Jason

It wasn’t bad because dad was an assistant director for a few years— for the teenage camps. So my first memories of this place put me in “the know.” I got to sleep in a real house, not a dorm and to see the kitchen and groovy rooms in the barn that were offices, and ride on the camp tractor. Actually, dad did the plumbing back when I was about five. I lost my Winnie the Pooh teddy bear there— in the BIG house.

So I knew the place. I learned to pump a swing there. I crashed my new bike there. I probably learned to swim there. I defintely fell in love there— every year. And I asked Jesus in my heart every year too.

I used to climb up in trees and leave secret messages up really high with Liquid Paper.

There were about six beaches at this camp. I can remember them all. We played Greased Pig with a slippery watermelon at one beach.

Dad built a cool giant swing-teeter-totter-thingy one year as a project with the teenagers. They had cool crafts.

I wet my sleeping bag when I was eight, and then laid in pee for the rest of the week. There was no way I was gonna tell anyone; no way I wanted people to see my bag hanging on a clothesline. I’m sure everyone smelled it anyway.

Camp was great. Camp even smelled great. Kind of a greasy, oily keep-the-dust-down-on-the-dirt-roads musk. And always the smell of soggy toast or fried chicken, or instant mashed potatoes wafting from the dining hall. I miss the food.

Maybe I should sign Lucas up for summer camp. I hardly think about it, but thanks to Amy, I remember how special those years were.

~Jason

You see, we were in such a hurry to get the stupid bathroom done, that we didn’t wait long enough after painting for everything to dry. Double-shower-head showers and jet baths were too exciting to wait for. Consequently there was a huge patch on the wall behind the toilet where the paint was just falling off.

Also, we couldn’t get the silicone to seal around the edge of the bathtub; maybe I used the wrong kind, or maybe it was too wet when I put it on… I don’t know. But the time for the project was today. I took off a day early so that we would have two days to do this stuff before tackling the highways.

Well it turns out the problem is gargantuan! Everywhere the paint will come off with a soft sanding. And not just the paint, the primer comes off too, exposing the horrid plaster beneath. Memories and hints of plaster stains — that mint green paint — no longer nightmares, but now staring back at me as if to say, “YOU CAN’T COVER ME! MU HA HA HA HA!” At one point the tub surround is clinging by a thread, and everything needs a real worker-man.

While I waited for drying plaster to make up it’s mind, I started removing the old silicone seal around the tub. It gets worse. There are spots where the water has actually been leaking behind the tub and into the wall. I can even press the wall in at one place and see the pinky insulation laughing back at me. “WE’RE GETTING WET,” they hackle!

You know me… it doesn’t take much to get all depressed and down-in-the-dumps. Why didn’t we just hire somebody. All this trying-to-save-money.

What have I learned? Home renovations are a nice idea. They should be left in the realm of the imagined.

~Jason

I’m facing it, I usually just wait my turn to talk about myself.  I’m mucho self-centered-o. It’s pretty bad. And it’s really embarrassing that everybody already knows this. I guess it’s not the kind of thing you quietly keep to yourself!

So I’ve been praying while people talk to me, asking God to bless them, praying for the needs they have, for their families. It’s amazing that I’m suddenly more able to listen to them as well! I find myself becoming a little less obsessed with numero uno.

So if we’re gabbing, and you see my lips moving, don’t be offended.  I’m probably listening to you more than usual, and everyone could use a little prayer, right?

~Jason

I’m gonna snorkel, I’m gonna swim, I’m gonna bike-ride (which reminds me, I need a bike rack for my trailer hitch!).  I’m gonna try to GeoCache, I’m gonna try to go camping with Lucas and slap monster blackflies for two days!

I can’t wait.

~Jason

~Jason

This is so funny, you really have to see it. Thanks Austin,

~Jason

The series was cancelled after a few episodes.

Years later I saw him on TV again, making political remarks about a US election. I watched his Bowling for Columbine and thought, “Why do Americans love guns so much?” I’ve talked about that here since then.

But thinking back, I have to admit that something seemed eerily suspicous about that movie. I was glad to believe his claims, maybe too glad. Inside me I thought, “This guy’s not really telling the whole truth.”

Well, it turns out he’s been held quite accountable:

Michael Moore’s career as a rabble-rousing populist has been marked by a frequent pattern of dissembling and factual inaccuracy. He distorted the chronology of his first movie, “Roger & Me”; repeatedly peddled the myth that the Bush administration gave $43 million to the Taliban; published two books, Stupid White Men and Dude, Where’s My Country?, that were riddled with factual errors and distortions; and won an Academy Award for “Bowling for Columbine,” a documentary based on a confused and often contradictory argument that features altered footage of a Bush-Quayle campaign ad, a misleading presentation of a speech by National Rifle Association president Charlton Heston, and other factual distortions.

The whole article deals with Moore’s claims, and shows the black-hole of spin and bias he’s trapped in. It’s worth checking out here.

~Jason

But now, except for Austin’s huge blog, which I’m behind by about 53 blogs. There are 148 articles in my magazine list yet to read— many of which I will NOT read. There are 59 to read in politics and a half-dozen miscellaneous articles here and there.

I think I’m back.

~Jason

I plan on adopting this to stream the message Sunday mornings at church, as well as setting up a radio station for Joanne who has always wanted to be in broadcasting!!

We’ll see if she can find time for that, right Joanne?

Not bad for a guy sick in bed with something an awful lot like Mono! Going for tests tomorrow and will let you know.

~Jason