Play Ball!!

This Country has faced many epidemics in it's history but I think none compare to the widespread growth and popularity of softball, especially for young girls. You can't compare it to wild fires, more like illegal immigration out of Mexico. Let's face it, you can't get near a chicken plant without running into a thousand drunken illegal aliens.

Anyway, maybe this has been going on for a while and I didn't realize it because my girls weren't old enough to play. But it is in full swing today, buddy. Every year the ages get lower and lower, the tournaments and leagues get bigger and bigger, the games more and more competitive, and the coaching more aggressive.

Last year my two daughters played on five different teams. They had to be places, usually different places, every single day. When softball isn't in season, lessons are in order. At $60 an hour for two hours every weekend, nearly all winter long! Shoes, bats, gloves, hairbows, sleeve scrunchies for Christ sakes, sliding shorts, sports bras, entry fees upon entry fees, not to mention the travel expenses, food, etc.

In all probability, softball has cost me a new bass boat, a bigger "man room", and hours upon hours of time I could have been making home improvement (like fixing the toilet) or watching Sumo Wrestling (or whatever happens to be on ESPN).

But what do you do? You can't fight it, you can't deprive the children of a chance at a scholarship and chance to play in the Olympics (as if one percent of the girls playing even have a shot). So you go with the flow, rack up some serious miles, and hope the grandparents are there to feed you because we spent all our money paying rent for Hibbett Sports.

So, if you have kids and they are able to play sports and want to play sports, embrace it and do whatever you can to support their efforts. Hold them when the get hurt, encourage them when they lose, celebrate with them when they win, teach sportsmanship, and as a parent keep your mouth shut and your ass in your seat during the game. No one wants to hear or see an unruly parent that disagrees with a call or coaching decision.

Next month we are playing a charity softball game to raise money (of course) for the fields and local leagues. For once I get to go to the field and actually play! I will pay the parking fee, buy a t-shirt (or 4), enter the home run derby and have some illegal aliens fix me lunch at the concession stand. No really, the parents will be doing that.

Anyway, I say... let's Play Ball!!

Tuke, King of the Suburban Jungle

Tuke is the family cat. Let me rephrase that... Tuke is my daughters' cat that somehow got transferred to my house to serve his time when the wife and I divorced. It didn't take long to figure out that this isn't your run-of-the-mill cat. I'll explain.
Tuke has a perfectly good litter box that he refused to use. He may, on occasion, walk over to it, paw some kitty litter onto the floor and walk away from it, but never ever shits in it. When he has to "go" he walks to the door and asks for the door to be open and he will walk right into a thunderstorm to pee. When he's done he comes back, knocks on the door (yes, knocks on the door... I don't know how, exactly, but he does) and spends the rest of the day laying around.
Tuke obviously has no great fear of water, kinda strange, but he had a habit of getting into the tub with me when I was taking a shower. Just paw around a bit, get a sip of soapy water, and leave a trail of wet paw prints down the hallway when he was done.
He has a water dish...doesn't drink from it. The sinks, the tub, the toilets (damn the toilet!!) but definitely not the water dish.
Last summer we had a two-day trip planned so I filled up his food and water dish, made sure the litter box was clean, left the kitchen window cracked for some fresh air and left him home alone. He was forced to use both the water dish and litter box. Or so I thought.
I returned home to find it ransacked. Not from a burglar, from the damn cat. Plants knocked over, toilet paper pulled off the roll, blinds in disarray, pictures on the floor, books knocked over... you name it, it looked like a home invasion robbery had taken place. The cat, however, was missing.
Very confused, I searched everywhere to find no Tuke. Then I found it. He cut a hole in the screen in the kitchen window that I left cracked and made his escape. He returned home a short time later very proud of himself, leering at the litter box as he walked with a bit of attitude in his strut to the food dish.
Now the wife and I have reconciled and plan to co-habitate so I called a realtor to list my house. He called early the other morning and woke me to tell me he was coming to photo the house. I stepped out of the bed and walked into the hallway to find the house COVERED in feathers. Feathers were everywhere. All over the floors, on the furniture, counters, appliances, every nook and cranny. I found a dead bird and apparent blood letting in the office and a second deceased in the living room floor.
I should have known better, should have closed the window, should put him out at night so I don't have to deal with him while I am trying to sleep, but I didn't. So the realtor is on his way and the race is on. Anyone looking to move to Arkansas? The cat may stay with the house.

King of the Throne

The throne, the phone to the porcelain Gods, the shitter... whatever you call the toilet, there is more to it than a cold seat to take care of #2. Some of my most important phone calls have occured while on the throne. I have completed numerous crossword and Su Doku puzzles while on the throne. I have read books on the throne. Hell, I have slept at the base of a throne or two... but there is more to it then you think.
The problem... a consistent leak of water into the toilet from the tank. What could cause this? Faulty (don't know the techinical name; the plastic flappy thingamajig that covers the hole that allows the water to leave the tank for the toilet). Or, faulty (bulb?) that raises to stop the water from pouring into the tank in the first place. Easy peasy. I have a college education... it's a freaking toilet, how complicated can it be.
Ha, well... first things first. I removed the cover or lid from the tank and straddle the toilet. I notice and very strange black or dark brown slime in there. What the hell is that? Clean water enters a porcelain tank, which is regularly replenished with more clean water, yet there is a funky sludge in there. Any ideas? I am baffled.
Ok, the flappy thing is good, the bulb appears to be operating properly, I am running out of parts and possible solutions. Adjust the bulb height, have the water shut off earlier. Done, still leaks. Readjust, done, still leakes. Recheck the flappy thing. Good. Adjust water pressure entering the tank (shot in the dark), still leaks. Nothing else moves or can be adjusted. How did this just all of a sudden occur and why the hell won't it fix itself?

I have no idea how to fix it. I have failed as a husband, as a dad, and Bob Vila can kiss my ass. It's not like I had to re-plumb the entire house, I know, but if you can't fix a toilet of all things what good are you? It's a damn good thing I can hang Christmas lights and change light bulbs.

Solution: Turn off the water source to stop the waste and buy a new toilet. I never really liked that one anyway. And I know how to install a toilet, wax ring and all.
Kiss my ass and eat shit (one more time) toilet!!!!