Allow me to make it up to my friends who are not Sports Fans.

I was a bit of a bully with my last post.  It was way out of line, and it also proves that I am no poet.

This Sunday the San Francisco 49′ers have a chance to return to the Super Bowl for the first time since 1995.  The last time the Niners played in a Super Bowl I was not old enough to buy beer legally, and I had  only known my good friend Mr. Pat for five months.  So now people up and down the North Coast are excited about the potential return to greatness the Niners have at their hands.

So to my dear friends who have little interest or need for sports… you no doubt will end up in a situation in the next two weeks where you are confronted by a group of wild sports fans who will be talking the Football talk.

You wanna mess up their minds a little, and drop some sports knowledge on them that will knock them off their feet?  Nothing like showing up the loud mouth who thinks he knows EVERYTHING about football.

OK, so here is the background:  The National Football league splits its teams into two conferences with 16 teams apiece.  The American Football Conference, and the National Football Conference.  The San Francisco 49ers play in the National Football Conference.  The Super Bowl will be played between the winner of the American Football Conference and the winner of the National Football Conference  in about two weeks.

Now:  In the 17 years since the last time the 49ers reached the Super Bowl, the National Football Conference has sent all but two teams to the Super Bowl.  In 17 years 14 teams have represented the National Football Conference in the Super Bowl.  Only two teams in the conference have failed to reach a Super Bowl in that time.

Wanna bet your loud mouth sports moop can’t name the two teams?  Well, you will be able to…

The Detroit Lions (who have never been to a Super Bowl ever) and The Washington Redskins (oye ve)

I look forward to hearing about how you “Non-Sports Fan” clowned some beer belly super fan with a quick jab of trivia!

A rebuttal from a football fan; done in poem…

There will come a day

When TV networks will fight for the rights

So that arts and crafters will do their thing

On their Super Station

Sponsors will flock with open wallets

Living rooms filled with snacks and liquor

People watching with bated breath

Crochet with burlap is so divine

You really want mind boggling:

Currently there are 4 networks that pay approximately 20 BILLION dollars for the right to broadcast football games on TV; and that is just for the professional ones!  College football is another kingdom all to itself.

Starting in 2014 and for eight years after that, the same four TV networks will shell out 40 BILLION dollars for professional games.  They would not be doing that just because the money in their wallets is causing their skin to break out in hives.  It is the fans!

Long live sporting events!

*This is a brief editorial rebuttal to a comment I read on Facebook this morning.  I am a proud to be a consumer of sporting events on television.  I am not a fanatic, but I enjoy a good sporting match.

At long last… my vacation in pictures. I am home? Am I?

I finally get a chance to write a quick note about my recent trip back to my hometown.  I am not much of the sentimental type when I visit the place I grew up.  Let’s face it; I fell off the face of the planet when I moved away after graduating from high school.  So often during my stay in So Cal I felt like a tourist.  This trip was no different in that regard, but I must say that my time spent with my family had a profound effect on me.

I came back and I realize how much I miss spending time with my brothers.  I miss going to my mom’s place to stuff my pie hole with homemade food.  I came home with a few dozen homemade tamales by the way.  By this time I am supposed to be glad to be back to my life up here, but something is different this time.  I am still thinking about what is going on down there, and how things might be if I was there too.  I bonded with my nieces and nephews, and I feel like I am missing out on something being so far away.  I met Fredo’s grandson.  He is the so cute, and has a perpetual smile on his face.  I am left now with a mixed bag of thoughts in my mind.

My brother Fredo has two young children that my mom gets to see on a regular basis.  My mom loves being a grandma, and seeing my niece’s wall of art was pretty cool.  I especially like the snoopy stuff.  Of course, I am kind of bias.

My mom also uses her grandkids for basic child labor.  I like how the two kids work together so well.

My brother Steve and I made pigs of ourselves on sausage and cheese and watched Laker games like two bums.  Vacations are great!

I miss the fact that in many yards there are citrus trees.  I remember the days of not having to pay for oranges, lemons, and avocados.

An unusual window I passed on day while walking through downtown.

I did some hiking into the hills above Ojai, CA.  The views were terrific.

Just like so many Ventura County hiking trails, I had to traverse through some kind of orchard to get to the wild hills.  There was an avocado ranch I passed by.

The greatest sight I saw on any of my hikes was at my feet.  It had been years since I have seen a rattlesnake in the wild.  He was just laying out getting some sun.  The unusually warm weather must have fooled him into thinking it was time to come out and check things out.

I even convinced my nephew to hit the trail with me.  We both saw this view from the top of hill we climbed… also in Ojai.

One morning I woke up to fog.  Any chance I missed Humboldt was gone when I stepped out in this soup.

At this beach the fog rolled in late in the afternoon, and spoiled many people’s frolic in the water.

While I was hanging out with my mom, she dragged me to a Death Star… aka “that place”

I took in a sunset in Ventura.

The pier

The Channel Islands in the horizon

Red skies

Oh the food.  One day at lunch with Fredo and his son Jonathan, I had a Monte Cristo sandwich… or at least an interpretation of it.  It was still yummy!  Of course I spent most of my time eating homemade food at my mom’s house, and at Steve’s.

…and what trip would be complete without returning with Snoopy and Peanuts collectables?

Interesting books

Buttons, bookmark, a patch, and a pin

Stationary and a little plaque

This is cool.  Many thanks to my brother Steve and Sister Vivian for finding this cool stuff for me!

The Intersection of Harvard Blvd. and 12th ST.

My trips back to Santa Paula are far and few between.  If I am lucky I make it home at least one time a year to see my family.  There are times it is not easy negotiating the politics of a family that is often at conflict for one reason or another, but I find a way because I love them all.  As with many families, we all have issues in our lives that range from medical and children, to financial and employment.  When I had to scramble to purchase a car last month, I again found myself in a stressful place not unlike many of my other siblings. 

So as I still find my way through my money troubles, the pilgrimage home has led me to the corner of Harvard Blvd. and 12^th street in Santa Paula.  This intersection is not unlike any other in the city, but it has become a symbol for me and some of my siblings.  This place is a symbol of what was and what could have been.

At one time this land in and around this intersection was owned by mother’s family.  My mom says their land went two blocks north, two blocks west, two blocks south.  My mom’s family thrived during the depression because they had chickens, pigs, and a garden flush with veggies and fruit.  My mom’s parents survived the collapse and subsequent flood of the St. Francis dam in 1928.  On May 12^th, 1928, exactly one month after the dam failed, my mom’s brother was born.   As the oldest, he would come to inherit the modest parcel of land my maternal grandparents worked so hard to make productive.

I loved my uncle.  By the time I was old enough to know him, he was renting a room in a house he shared with several field workers.  He was nearing retirement age and working at a local tile shop in town.  He was never married, had no children, and his longtime girlfriend had died of cancer.  The man I knew was full of stories that were amusing and often true.  My uncle was beloved by so many people in the community.  He was also a recovering alcoholic who was slowly dying from the medical effects of his lifelong affliction.  He went to his grave with several demons he could never reconcile in himself while he was alive. 

When my mom’s parents passed away my uncle was sole heir of the land and the modest family estate.  I have heard stories of buses he chartered from Santa Paula to Las Vegas, and of lots of drinks paid for by my generous uncle.  My uncle became a genuine life of the party, and who lived for the moment.  To say he squandered a small family fortune would be the Cliff Notes version.  After spending lots of inherited money, and losing the land, my Uncle was no longer able to pay for the parties.  His only legacy was that he was remembered fondly by so many, and the standing room only memorial service at his death was a tribute to this.

Eventually part of the land was bought by the state to build highway 126.  The overpass in the picture is the freeway crossing 12^th street.  Who is to say that my mom would not have been the life of the party herself?  Perhaps if she would have had part of the estate to herself she would have saved some of it from being squandered.  The world will never know just how my mom would have managed her parent’s estate.  Instead her children, myself one of them, can only wonder how different things might have been if my uncle had not been allowed to lose our family’s land. 

These days we can only imagine what this place would look like if we had held onto the land.  Would there be a restaurant and a nightclub within a block of each other?  I am sure as the city of Santa Paula crept eastward, the land would have been sold for the right price.  To think my family once owned Southern California real estate makes my stomach turn in knots.  My maternal grandparents had two children, and my mom had the misfortune of being born second.  To my mom’s credit, she has never expressed remorse about the way her brother mismanaged everything.  In fact, she was not the one who told me about what happened.   I guess raising a family and becoming a bread winner left little time for her to look back and dwell.  Yet one more reason my mom is my hero.  

As I end this post, I will leave with two thoughts.  First, it was two years ago when my brother Fredo and I were discussing the status of our family.  As we talked about who was mad at who, and what events had transpired he brought up some trouble he was having.  He then brought up the intersection of Harvard Blvd. and 12^th street.  He could not help but wonder how things might be different for all of us had that land not been squandered away.  Earlier this year a buddy of mine was dealing with his feelings after having watched his father sell a classic car that had been in his family for over 40 years.  As he told me the story, I searched for the words to console him.  All I could do was tell him about the intersection of Harvard Blvd. and 12^th street.         

Costco Trip #12222011

What does a Professional of War do between gigs?  Make waffle irons.

So what if your kid’s name is not Brooke?

Wow!  An LED shower head!

Perhaps the root of all evil?

Wimp winemakers have their day!

It’s a shame they are not talking about pounds or inches from your waistline.

The mini-Archie Bunker that comes with this chair is sold separately.

Costco gives you the Classic Generic Holiday Gift Idea!

At first glance it looked like Meatballs.  Who makes Candy Cane Meatballs?

Attention Bloggers of Greater Humboldt County!

As the New Year approaches, it is time to start thinking about the Spring.  In addition to all of the wonderful things that we associate with the Spring, we must also be thinking about a tradition that will enter its third year.

I am talking about the Annual Humboldt Blogger’s Tournament!

This is the annual showcase for all of the blogs in and around our area.  It would be nice to win, and that should be the goal of each and every blogger who makes the effort to express themselves on a regular basis.

March is not that far away, so I will start publishing the dreaded blog rankings.  Please do not read to much into the rankings, for they are only used to seed the tournament in March.  If anything, it is a conversation piece.  I have learned so much from the unsolicited criticism heaved my way last year, so these rankings will be a little more scrutinized on my part.

So sometime after the New Year the very first rankings will be released.

Here is the list of Blogger’s Tournament champions:

2010: SoHum Parlance

2011: Tom Sebourn Blog

2012: ???

Tom is the defending champion!  As you can see, we have yet to have a repeat champion, or a back to back champion.

Good Luck my fellow bloggers!

Some things I learned this week while transitioning to another car

This is the fourth car I will own (once it is all paid off).  Unlike the last time I bought a car, I was afforded the luxury of a few days to look for the car that would best suit my needs.  It not that I did not appreciate my late Taurus, however if I had a little more time to look I would have selected differently.  For two days I have stolen a moment to look at my new car, and to recount the events of the last week.  I have made some observations.

1.  I chose a car like a sensible man in his mid thirties.

Having no children, and no wife, I am sure I could have easily fit the profile of either a midlife crisis or hipster bachelor.  I stayed away from the sports car, or the larger than life truck/SUV.  I wanted a car that would sip gas instead of gulp it down.  It was easy to assume that a man of my size would need to drive a large car, but I was able to find a car that was smaller but was comfy enough for me to drive.  In the end, I was not concerned with looking like a cool dude in a great car.  I like being sensible, and I can live without the cool points.

2. Car Sales people are not so bad these days.

image source

My previous two ventures into the car buying realm were wrought with salesmen trying to show me the great benefits of owning a car that was truly out of my league.  The thought that they would know to a certainty what what car could best fit me was an insult.  This was the bad taste in my mouth I took with me the first evening I went looking for a vehicle after the Taurus died.

Now it could be the economic downturn or something, but I was pleasantly surprised by most of the sales people I talked with.   They allowed me to explain my situation, and based on the information I supplied they found me cars that best suited my needs.  I never really felt the pressure that often comes with a sales pitch.  There were tactics being used, and I picked up on the sales person’s skill set.  That amused me.

Due to the incredible treatment I received (except for one lot in McKinnleyville), I personally contacted each sales person I was not going to buy from to thank them for their help.  Of course I got some last minute pleas to reconsider, but once I found THE car it was over.

3. The myth of local based car insurance being over priced has been debunked.

When I was closing my deal with the car dealership among accolades and three cheers, my car insurance company of over four years did their part to put a knitting needle through my balloon.  Upon notifying the insurance company that I had a new vehicle to insure, they quoted me a rate that increased my monthly payments by $50!!!  When I asked for an explanation of how my 6-month plan could increase by $300, I did not like their answer.  I was basically told that I bought a car that was newer, and in their opinion, one tiny hit away from becoming an accordion.   So I bought the wrong car in their eyes, and my penalty for that was a $300 increase in my premium.  I was left with no choice.

I did call the other national car insurance titan, and they gave me a quote that would only increase my monthly payments by $18 from what I was paying on the Taurus.  I kept the policy with the collision and comprehensive even after I paid off the car.  I resisted the temptation to fall back to the minimum coverage allowed by law in California.  The customer service I spoke to warned me against talking to a local insurance agent, and the nasty little detail of Broker’s Fees.

Not terribly persuaded by his warning, I stopped in at a local insurance office, and got a quote.  I figured if they were within $10 of the quote I had just got over the phone, I would take it so I could have piece of mind with a local agent.  Well, they quoted me a price that came in $5 a month less than the titan’s offer over the phone.  I am sure if I went to the local cut rate place I could do better, but again, I am in that sensible phase of my life.

As this week I wish I could soon forget comes to an end, I take stock in the catastrophic nature of the event that put me in my new car and with a new insurance agent.  I could not do it without the support and love of my friends and family who were not going to stand idly by and watch me suffer.  I appreciate what I have here, and I hope they know I am here for them if the shoe ever ends up on the other foot.

My last link to Riverside is broken along with my car’s transmission.

So it was on a mild Friday morning last week when I started my car and tried to back out of the parking spot in an Old Town lot.  The moment I realized my car was not moving despite being in reverse I knew it was the end.  I tried to tell myself that it was something minor, and my mechanic would call with news to confirm my optimism.  As my car was towed to the auto shop, I started the process of planning for all contingencies.  The rest of day was spent holding out hope for good news.  At 4 p.m. that fateful Friday I was given the news that my car’s transmission was busted.  I had no idea that my car was about to stop running.  I had not detected any signs that I was so close to a catastrophic failure.  The moment was so subdued with a simple start of the car, and no movement when I put her in gear.  When the mechanic quoted me several price options, I sank to the realization that repairing my car was so far out of any budget I could scheme up.  My time with my car was at an end.

 

I quickly recalled a blog post by my fellow Blogger Richard Marks over at Samoa Softball about many of us who do not have a pot to piss in.  Just like in his brief post, I have hit a catastrophe in my life.  I am confident that I will have another car very soon, but the pleasures of my life will have to be compromised in order to feed another bank a bushel of car loan payments.  I guess spending my money at local businesses will have to be sacrificed in order to feed the 1%.  What a drag…

 

On another plane of thought… as soon as I handed the pink slip over to the mechanic in exchange for my outstanding labor bill, it was also the end of another connection.  Back in the spring of 2006, I had relocated to Riverside, CA.  I have used many blog entries to document and dissect that experiment in my life.  In the middle of starting a new relationship, integrating into a new community, and finding a new job another transmission was getting ready to call it a life.  My then vehicle was a red Chevy S-10 pick-up truck.  I loved that truck.  It was not going to be a fun truck to drive in Riverside in the Summer for it had no air conditioning.  I had driven it to over 200,000 miles, and never once tried to be consistent with the routine maintenance.  I over looked the transmission, and at 213, 000 miles, the grinding and gnawing of gears at least gave me the heads up that bad days were ahead.

 

By the time I had to dump my truck, I was in very poor shape financially.  I was barely making enough money to keep up on my share of the living costs with my then live-in girlfriend.  The jobs I got down there were paying much less than I make up here, and how weird is that?  Anyway, I found a local Chevy dealer who took pity on me, and my truck of my hands in exchange for no money down.  I drove off in a 2003 Ford Taurus with 33,000 miles, and air conditioning.  I bought that car in May of 2006, and three months later I would have that car packed with my belongings as I headed back to Humboldt County.

 

When I moved back up here I had to re-integrate into my old job, and rekindle old ties to the North Coast.  I also had to purge myself of the Southern California experience.  I had to wait nearly two years to be rid of the cell phone contract I had to take down there because the carrier I have up here was not available there.  It took some time, but eventually I was able to let go of most of the material things that I felt connected me to those five months of my life I spent in Riverside.  Of course there will music, movies, and memories that will always be with me, but the physical items have been passed along or simply discarded.  I guess that is as close as I can come to pretending that episode of my life did not happen.

 

As I cleaned all of my belongings out of the Taurus it occurred to me that the biggest piece of my Riverside connection was about to pass on.  It is not what I planned to have happen, and especially not like this, but now I will be completely severed from material reminders of that part of my life.  Perhaps any healing I still need will happen now as I drive another vehicle.

 

A vehicle bought locally under the same circumstances which put me in the Taurus five years ago.

 

 

The Tapperass Food Labs presents: The Pizza Cheeseburger

Special Note:  If you have issues with cholesterol you may want to skip this edition of the food labs.

With tonight being the start of Thursday Night Football, my friends came over to watch the game.  So I had to feed them.  What a great time to experiment once again.  So I asked, what would happen if I made a cheeseburger without the bun?  Or, instead of a bun, use a mini pizza?  I gathered my supplies and got cooking.

I placed several mini cheese pizzas in the oven, and while they cooked I grilled several sirloin hamburger patties.

The burgers were all well done.

I used Havarti cheese on the burgers.  They were going to be doubles.

I placed the slice of Havarti in between the two hamburger patties.

When I topped the burgers with the other mini pizza, the red sauce ran down onto the patties.  It looked amazing!

I decided to cut each pizza cheeseburger into quarters to serve them.

The Verdict:  The mix of Havarti and Mozzarella cheese was a hit.  The pizza sauce also added more flavor to the sirloin patties.  Everybody enjoyed the flavors of this fusion of burger and pizza.  However, it was hard to cut the burgers into quarters, and the “WOW” factor was not present.  Although we enjoyed these very much, there is a very slim chance this item will make the final menu of my annual Super Bowl party.

Now I need to go walk 15 miles to burn of a fraction of the Calories I just consumed.

Hey drivers in Old Town: Here is a tip or two, or three

photo source

One of my biggest gripes about living in Old Town is the driving.  I realize that I am resident in this part of town, so I am inclined to know the turf.  However, I get so vexed by the number of drivers who suddenly forget the basic rules of the road when they enter my side of town.  So I want to offer a few tips.

1. Know where the F#@K you are going!!!

With the likes of Garmin, Nextar, Magellen, maps.com, Googlemaps, and Tom Tom available, you would think that the days of winging it were at an end.  I can’t tell you how often I end up behind a car that slows down to a crawl.  The driver must be getting close to the general vicinity of their destination because the incessant tapping of the brakes clearly tells me it is close.  I often think that people arrive in Old Town, and suddenly forget where they and where they are going.  Look people, get a map!  Know where you are going.  Why waste hundreds of hours of your life driving 5 miles per hour thinking you know where you are?  Know where you are!  Save your fellow driver the anguish of discovering you are on the wrong side of town.

#2 Re-learn what a STOP sign looks like!

Despite the trend of many drivers, not every intersection in Old Town is a four way stop.  This incorrect assumption  has lead to many vehicular stand offs in Old Town.  The driver who has the stop sign waits for the intersection to be clear, while the person who has the right of way waits for the a-hole to his right (or left) to turn already.  A simple glance to the upper right and out of the front window will quickly resolve the question of right of way.  Perhaps someday every intersection in Old Town will be converted into a four way stop.  However until then, please make the effort to identify a STOP sign.

#3 Be sure to check your mirrors

Why?  You never know when you are holding up traffic behind you.  A little courtesy can go a long way.

 

I am done venting my frustrations now.  Please remember when you are in Old Town that there are other drivers you are sharing the road with.  Many of us do in fact know where we are going and know where all the stop signs are.  So please, be courteous.  Thanks!