The B in Blog-Now updated at least Semi-Annually!

Monday, November 17, 2014

Prologue

1st-Chanon J-$965
2nd-Ryan M-$386
3rd-Georgia-$193
4th-Ed B-$135
5th-J Jenkins-$97



I am going to be stepping down as part Commissioner, part Car Driver and focus on winning back to back Championships as just a driver...

If anyone has some Saturday nights and mostly Sundays open between 1pm-9pm for 36 weeks next year, please let me know...  I am ready to hand over the reins to someone else for this thankless job...  Tim Elliott handed it over to me about 6 years ago and I've had my fill... my wife and two kids would love to have me back (I think) for the 2+ hours a weekend I spend doing this and now I can go on weekend trips with them without having to worry about being called a cheater or having someone give me an earful because I didn't send out the picks.  Please email me if you are interested.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Pick One Now, Eat One Later

It's a centuries old adage: No one cares about your fantasy sports team.

That's why this is a story about corruption, lack of integrity, and the men that had the bravery to challenge it. Everything from this point on is completely true.

The Premise
Pick one now. At least, that's what the email address is (plus an @gmail.com on the end). Every week during the NASCAR season players email one driver's name to the account. However the driver fairs in the race points-wise, the picker does the same. Each driver can only be used once by each player, unless the driver wins the race. In that case that driver can be used again only during the final ten weeks of the season- the Chase. The top ten (or is it twelve or fifteen?) players in points make the Pick One Now Chase and must use their remaining drivers, including any selected winners, to accumulate the most points over the span of ten weeks to win the league title.

Strategies during the first twenty-six races vary. In NASCAR, there aren't twenty-six drivers capable of delivering a strong points day week in and week out. To win the championship, a player must be able to assemble a strong lineup during the final ten races. To reach the Chase and save enough high quality drivers to win the championship takes skill, luck, and strategy.

Did I mention the $40 entry fee for every player? Or the weekly winner payouts and the huge monetary prize awarded to the winner at the end of the season?

If it were merely pride on the line, I would have taken my toys and left the sandbox years ago.

Roots
Six years ago, a friend sent me much of the same information you see above. His friend's brother knew some guys in the Richmond, Virginia area that organized the league and their larger circle of friends and family were the players. The commissioner was a guy named Tim. I met him at a NASCAR race in Richmond a few months later and I described him then as a fatter Robby Gordon.
Most of the time, Tim sent an email after the start of the race to tell us who the other players picked. After the race, he sent an email which contained an updated spreadsheet tabulating the points. 

So I joined that first year, and tried to use what NASCAR knowledge I had to pick the best possible drivers at each track, while at the same time trying to conserve a decent driver for the last ten races. I fared adequately or worse. Out of about 30 players, I finished 27th. I didn't pick a winner and I made zero-point-zero dollars. Still, it was worth watching each race and paying close attention to the driver I picked in hopes of winning a minor payout.


From whence intrigue stems
The following January, I, along with the rest of the league's players, received an email from Tim encouraging us to rejoin the league. There was also a line about sending the entry fee well before the season opening race in Daytona in order to avoid a late entry fee. Also, although the email came from the same PickOneNow account, the sender was a new guy: Chad.


I joined the league as I had the previous year and competed each week. The buds that got me involved in the league, Digger and Crook, opted against playing. I forged onward and played a largely solo game.  I picked a winner or two and rose to the top of the standings a few times. In August of that year, I met Crook's brother (who I referred to as "Brother Crook" for a long, long time). We talked league strategy and watched some of the race together while Digger vomited at a heretofore unheard decibel level.

I made the chase and even had some good drivers left to use. Entering the final race, I was in third place, but I had a dilemma. The person in second place and I both had the driver with the best chance of winning the race, number 11-Denny Hamlin. The guy in first place didn't have him. If I took the same driver as the guy in second place, logically I couldn't win the championship. If I gambled with a less good driver (#43 AJ Allmendinger), who statistically wasn't bad at the track, I could either win the league title or lose positions and win no money whatsoever.
 So I reached out to Digger, Crook, and Brother Crook: Digger said to take the 43 and go for the win. Brother Crook said to be conservative and take Hamlin. Regular Crook said something profane that I can't retype because it's a family blog.
I decided to take Allmendinger and go for the whole enchilada.

After the race, Chad writes to the league:
WOW!!!
Brent M does a "ballsy" move and takes the 43 and leaves the 11 on the bench and WINS IT!!!!
1st Place-Brent M-$476
2nd Place-Bill H-$215
3rd Place-Ed B-$85
4th Place-Chanon J & Jimmy B-$42 ($21 each)


Great success! It's a silly thing, this fantasy league, but it's nice to be rewarded for something, you know. And look! Chad's wife Chanon earned a 4th place tie and a share of that prize money.

Nearly a month later, however, I still had not received any prize money. So I emailed Chad. Here's what he wrote:
Yeah, sorry man.  I had to order new checks and I just got back from
Mexico, they will go out tomorrow.

I always kind of wondered what he did with all of the money collected in February until November when the season ended. 

Branching Out 

The 2011 season arrived and two things were clear:
1. I must have been hungover after winning the 2010 title, because I finished 35th out of 40 players.
2. Chad had a stranglehold on power and influence in this league.

A handful of Chad's family were now participating in the league. He proposed changes to the rules and put it to a league "vote". Point tabulation mistakes, or "mistakes", happened more and more frequently. Typically, one needed to keep a close eye on the spreadsheet and email Chad about the error. He'd play dumb, I guess, and email the league a corrected sheet.

2011 ended with the only other person I really knew in the league, Brother Crook, a spot or two out of the Chase and Chad's wife sitting atop the leader board with a payout of $765.

2012 was an interesting year.Brother Crook and I emailed almost weekly to discuss strategy. I analyzed old picks the league players made over the last couple of years to try and identify tendencies. Sometimes it actually worked. More of the time, it was a wonderful distraction from whatever work I was supposed to be doing.  Mostly, though, we emailed to point out what a shady character Chad is. Once, after a long delay in receiving the points update we got an email from Chad:
It is with great sadness to notify everyone we have lost a league
member.  Tim R. died earlier this week and his favorite driver almost
pulled off an upset win (Kurt B.) today for him.  Our prayers go out
to his family and friends.  Quite a few members in this league have ties back to Tim and he will be sorely missed.

Brother Crook sent me a note:
Why do I get this eerie feeling that Chad is the Executor of Tim R's Estate and now Chad will take charge of a third entry?

Brother Crook really shed some light on the shadiness of Chad as a league commissioner. On multiple occasions, especially when the picks and score updates were late, he offered to help Chad with these responsibilities.  His assistance was always declined. I got a call at work one day that explained nearly everything:
Hailing from the Richmond area, Brother Crook and Chad knew some of the same people.Once, Chad purchased and resold a group of tickets to the race in Richmond. Brother Crook paid up front for the ticket and was surprised to see a much, much lower face value on it. "Convenience fees", he said.
And on another occasion, Chad tacked on an unannounced 'fee' for everyone when he invited the group to stay at his house on the way to another race.

Brother Crook tells it better, but the gist is clear:Chad was Brother Crook's archenemy, and now he was my enemy. Things are so much more fun when there's a villain and you think you're the good guy.

Brother Crook made the Chase that year competed valiantly until the end. He wound up 5th, with a share of the prize money. 

An Alliance Blossoms
Prior to the 2013 season, I convinced my good bud Ryan to join the league. Digger also agreed to play again. Team DMC was born. (It's really a clever acronym of our last names.) The four of us strategized throughout the week and put the power of numbers on our side. Chad became Team DMC's nemesis and we were on a mission to keep him honest, or completely humiliate him whenever possible.
Our thinking was logical. Chad had access to the pickonenow email account and could easily use that to his advantage. None of the players could verify if Chad changed his pick, his wife's pick, or any of his family members' picks in the early going of the race. Sheesh, Chad could wait until every other player picked and scan their picks to make a more informed decision for himself.  No one on Team DMC believed he was honest and forthright.

The season was going well for most of us. Digger languished in 45th place out of a league of 50 players. The other three of us were at or near the top of the standings for much of the year. We picked some winners and won some of the weekly cash jackpots. Often, our alliance was good at talking a member out of a good pick or a really really bad pick. We also checked the spreadsheet carefully and had each other's backs. The alliance was shaping up to be a powerful entity.

In July, I went on a trip to Italy. Not being sure of the availability of internet access on my trip, I sent a couple weeks worth of picks in advance. As always, I cc:ed one or more members of the alliance just so that there was evidence in the event Chad tried something shady.

I landed on a Sunday not long after the race started. I fired up my cell phone and tried to sort through a backlog of email and text messages. The league-wide picks email from Chad was sent, and my pick was not included on the list. Digger emailed our alliance asking if I had sent in a pick. Ryan responded that I had indeed, and then stuck it to Chad:

Brent Morris sent his pick of the 11 in over a week ago due to his travels. 

Please pay attention to things like this if you are to successfully run a fantasy league.

Keep in mind that Ryan sent this only to Chad and bcc:ed me.

Chad, panties firmly wadded, responded to Ryan...and the entire league:

Ryan,
I work hard enough on this league, than to receive asshole emails like this.  If you don't think I am a "successful" commissioner then don't fucking play.  I would be more than happy to ship your $40 back and one more comment like this, you won't have a choice.
 
If anyone else wants to chime in and tell Ryan to Fuck Off, please do.
 
Brent,
I am sorry I forgot your email from last week, I will make sure to update the excel sheet properly.  Which I would have done anyways without the nasty graham email from Ryan.
The responses from the league poured in:
From Jason:
Fuck off Ryan!! Chad, keep doing what your doing. I, for one, thank you for running this and taking time out of your busy weekend to manage this league. Thank you!
From Bruce: 
In all seriousness. Chad spends a lot of time managing this league so we don't have too. Chad has a family and I for one appreciate the time he takes to manage this league. I think its bs that anyone gives him shit about making any mistakes or not getting the picks out fast enough. I don't think Chad minds fixing mistakes. Just bring it to his attention and he takes care of it.I would ask that everyone thinks before they spout off via email. 
From a guy whose email address is "thedon4hire" at aol.com (I kid you not- aol.com)
Eat a dick Mulligan!!!!!!!
To top off this perfect day. Ryan picked the winner of the race.

Now, Team DMC had a rallying cry and renewed inspiration to dethrone Chad. We also started politely asking the players in the league who they picked shortly after the start of the race. More often than not, Chad would soon respond with the official "who picked whom" email.

In the end, Brother Crook narrowly missed the Chase, but Ryan and I made it. Ryan ran out of good drivers and missed the money, minus the $5.00 he won in the "Eat a dick" incident. He arranged with Chad to have it applied to the next year's entry fee. It was kind of an awesome passive power move because it said, "I'm playing next year, chump, and the five bucks is from when I won a race and you were a jerk about it."

The excitement for me was that I went into the final week tied for the lead. Brother Crook gave me a good tip earlier in the year about how good Martin Truex, Jr. was at Homestead, the last race of the year. Team DMC watched carefully as Truex ran a beautiful race and the other player's driver faded late with all kinds of problems.

Team DMC yielded a champion in its first year. The payout was huge, and the check arrived within a week or so. Chad being Chad, he left out the $60 in winnings from a race earlier in the year. He offered to "apply it to next year's entry fee (which is only $40).  I asked for (and received) the full amount.

The Pest

We had a successful format, this alliance, but something was missing. We saw how Ryan's freedom was stepped on when he challenged Chad. It was clear that his minions weren't leaving the league, nor was Chad about to give up control.
Sometime during the offseason, we added a 5th member to the alliance. This player, we decided, was going to be the one to demand transparency, incite chaos, and challenge Chad at ever turn, without fear of eviction or reprisal. His name? Digger's kid + Ryan's Kid + My dog + His favorite driver. Ryan Alex Jackson, Jr. was born to 4 happy fathers in the Winter of 2014.
We pitched in and sent cash with no return address to Chad. We created an email account and contacted Chad to declare his intention of competing in the league.
 Raj, as he soon became known, would be free to ask for picks or make crass comments about Danica Patrick under the veil of relative anonymity. It was awesome.

Raj noticed and pointed out how when the picks email came out (usually prompted by a league-wide email from Raj asking "who y'all got?") Chad typically had a car that crashed early and Chanon, his wife, had an underdog that performed well. Chad chalked it up to bad luck but eventually quasi-confessed to picking both entries from the family.

Raj competed ably during the year, but missed the Chase at the end of the regular season (which was now 15 drivers, thanks to emperor Chad). Chanon, or as we like to call her "Chanon", entered the Chase with more than 10 very very good drivers. She should have walked away with it, but Team DMC's lone entry in the Chase, Ryan, has stayed within reach entering Sunday's final race. He's out of drivers that are remotely good, and Chanon still has 4 or 5 top 12 drivers to choose from.

We'll be watching today, and rooting for Ryan. Raj will demand picks early and often. In fact, Raj has no incentive to behave or adhere to any sort of moral standards today. It's his last hurrah.
With talk amongst Team DMC members of forming a new league altogether, sans Chad, this could  be it for everyone. In any case, I have a feeling it will end with the death of another league member.
R.I.P. Raj.






Friday, June 27, 2014

The Adventures of B-rent and Son, Day 2

I'll fast forward through the delivery, because this is a family b-log. My wife and son were doing well, and we were preparing to head home from the hospital. A rather tall nurse with a mask came in and told us they had to run a few last minute tests before we left. So the nurse wheeled him into the exam room and we waited a few moments for them to return.
After about half an hour, I got a little nervous and I poked my head out in the hallway to see what was going on. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall figure pushing a cart toward the elevator.
"Excuse me, Nurse!" I called.. The nurse turned, revealing an ugly, jagged scar running from his ear to his eye, back to his ear lobe, and back to his mouth.
"That's no nurse. That's Lightning Scarface! Stop that man!"
He sprinted for the elevator, still pushing my son. I reached in my pockets for anything I could throw at him, but all I had were some daggers and ninja stars. They'd have to do. One dagger caught his shoulder as he reached the doors. He turned to face me, holding a syringe to my newborn's neck.
"One step further and your boy gets a lethal dose of Sodium!" He reached for the down button and the 'ding' indicated the car had arrived. He stepped in and as the doors closed, I raced for the steps and made it to the bottom level in seconds flat.
The doors opened and, to my surprise, Lightning Scarface wasn't there. Upon further inspection, I saw him in the floor, convulsing with the needle protruding from his carotid artery. My son sat in the corner giggling and cooing. It's times like that when you appreciate being a dad. I picked him up and Lighting Scarface let out a pathetic moan.
As the security guards approached, I picked up my boy to go home. I turned once more and said, "Why so salty, Lightning Scarface?"

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

The Adventures of B-rent and Son, Day 1

Things got off to a wild start on the day my son was born. I had just arrived home from CIA practice. My trigger finger was a little sore, so I decided to ice it down. Suddenly, my wife whispers "I'm going in to labor." So, I grabbed the go bag and threw it in the car. I helped my wife into the front seat and we started for the hospital.
I picked up the tail immediately. These weren't amateurs, but I could lose them. I weaved in and out of traffic on the parkway as I headed for Washington. The tail remained a good distance back, but I could tell they were still following me. I took a side street through Arlington, and just when I thought I shook them, they pulled around the block right in front of us. I had to throw it in reverse through an alley, dodging vagrants and dumpsters. They were gaining on us pretty quickly. My wife was screaming. I couldn't even understand her over the squealing of the tires and the smell of burning rubber. I saw the Memorial Bridge through my rear-view mirror and it was rapidly approaching.
We were about halfway over the bridge when I decided to give those guys an oil change. Heh. That's a joke, because I had my car rigged with a special hose that drops oil all over the road for just such an occasion.
Keep in mind, I'm still driving backwards, so I have a pretty good view of this whole scene as it unfolds. I dropped the oil, and the guys chasing me run into it, skid left, then back to the right and BOOM! Right through the retaining wall and into the Potomac.
"I guess we'll see those guys again in 3000 miles," I said to myself, but in a cool way, just like a movie star.

Now that things cooled down. I pulled over and asked my wife what she was screaming about.

"They were paramedics," she said. "I called them when I was going into labor. Didn't you see that they were in an ambulance?!"

"How could you tell it was an ambulance? The letters on the front were written backwards. Idiots."


Take off your old shoes- It's time to reboot

I logged in and it said I haven't posted since February 18th! I got another email that said my Tumblr page is a year old now. Well that's great, but I'm not using it any longer. In fact, it's for sale to the highest bidder.

Just to get back on track, let's pick up where things might have left off:
I am a dad. I have been since the end of March. Well, you might be thinking, "He must have been too overwhelmed to b-log since that kid came along.". You'd be wrong if that's what you think.

The truth is, my son and I have been on lots of adventures. So many adventures, in fact, that we are just now able to relax and let the world know about them.

Without further ado, B-rent's B-log proudly present "The Adventures of B-rent and Son".

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Inside "The Outsiders": An Album Review (Anal Bum Review)

After great anticipation, I picked up Eric Church's new record (okay, CD) when it dropped (was stocked on the shelves at Target) last week.

I knew right away that this was going to be judged not by how great it is, but by how perfect it isn't. With Church's body of work, namely "Chief" and the one live show I've seen, I felt like this should be a flawless piece of work and anything short of that would result in point deductions. This might be harsher than Johnny Weir at a Bugle Boy fashion show, but this isn't open mic night at the Boar's Nest.

With that tall task at hand, let's see how Eric Church and his band did, according to a guy that likes country music (most of the time) and has no musical talent whatsoever. Side note, I did get an A in Music Appreciation in college, so, there we have it.

I decided to go track by track because it's not fair to say the entire album is a hit or a miss. It's full of both. Overall, if I had to say something, it seems like an experiment in sound effects and ghostliness. Sometimes it works, sometimes it just ruins a good song. You'll see what I mean when we get there.

1. The Outsiders-
If you've heard it, you probably like it. When you hear the rest of the tracks, you'll hear a lot more talking instead of singing and wonder what the point is. Is this lyrically significant? No, minus the great imagery of whatever a regulator is. Is this going to be an amazing song performed live with tons of pyrotechnics? Absolutely. Other than that, I've always thought if you have to tell people you are an Outsider or "weird" than you might not be. It's a batting practice homerun, I guess.

2. A Man Who Was Gonna Die Young
I've heard this song on every other Church album. Okay, not exactly this song, but not far off. Stripped down, soft guitar picking, good ol' boys doing cool stuff in cars. Think "Like Jesus Does" without the whiskey and rye on the levee.


3. Cold One
When I first listened to this I thought: He ruined a GREAT song with the instruments on this one. What, did a New Orleans parade marching band break into the studio?  Then he changed tempo too many times and made it unsingalongable. Then it sounds like there's a dj doing the scratchy scratch thing.
It's catchier with multiple listens, but it takes the potential of the Cold One triple (not double) entendre -the beer, the harsh reality of her leaving, and the nature of the woman herself- and loses it amongst the trombone and organ or whatever other instruments they had lying around the school's band room.
"Cold One" is a stretching an infield single into a double, and getting tagged out rounding first base.





4. Roller Coaster Ride-
On CBS Sunday Morning (my favorite show), they said Eric wrote some 200 songs while hunkered down in a mountain lodge and narrowed it down to 12 for this album. How this made it, I don't know.
The double edged sword is that it doesn't sound like too many (if any) of his hit songs. It's good that they tried something different, but synthesizer heavy track with a disco beat wasn't the ticket.

5.  Talladega-
It was simple really. My favorite artist + my favorite NASCAR track = a slam dunk of a song, right? It basically gets an 'eh' in my book. (This is my book, so 'eh'.) It's soft and sentimental, an homage to good buds, which I can get behind. I can't wait for Fox Sports to ineffectively use this song to intro the first race there in April or May.

6. Broke Record
That's what I'm thinking about doing by this point through the CD.

7. Like a Wrecking Ball
Fortunately, this isn't a Miley Cyrus cover. I actually like this one and I've been asked not to turn it up so loud in the car. It's not a wild and rowdy barroom brawl type of wrecking ball. It's a promise by a singer on the road to come home and bone his wife with tremendous force. ("I wanna rock some sheet rock , knock some pictures off the wall...")
I picture some very unfortunate rednecks thinking the slow danceable beat makes it a great choice as their first wedding song.
Or some high school principals raising eyebrows when they hear this at the prom this spring.

Take away the organs and the acoustic guitar and you basically have a violent rap song on your hands.
-"Don't give a damn what these keys are for, I'm gonna knock down that front door"
-"Crash right through the front door, back you up against the wall"
-"Love you baby, take it right there baby, rock you baby, like a wrecking ball"

8. That's Damn rock and Roll
A half spoken word/half rollicking romp down a name dropping mountain. Think an AC/DC song without Brian Johnson's scratchy voice.

9. Dark Side
 Drive to a state with lots of mountains and hard economic times. Park your car on a windy mountain lane somewhere and start walking uphill through the woods. When you find a cabin, look for the record player. Take a vinyl out of the sleeve and drop the needle. What you'll hear sounds just like "Dark Side", right down to the fuzz and crackle.

This is the best song on the album, with zero doubts.

10. Devil, Devil
How about instead of Devil, Devil (which sounds like a great song), you listen to 3 and a half more minutes of a spoken word prelude  that name drops country's greatest singers and songs before business picks up?
To be honest, I haven't  listened to the actual song more than 2 or 3 times. My car rides aren't usually that long.

Devil, Devil is good. It would make a fantastic Dukes of Hazzard action montage soundtrack.

11.Give Me Back My Hometown
Frankly, this song is cheesy. I'm sure fans of Miranda Lambert and Carrie Underwood probably enjoy this one.
I can't stand it when a song:
A. Forces too many syllables in a line
B. Has a sudden and drastic change in melody to get to the chorus
C. A really unreasonable "Yeah Yeah" "Oh Oh Oh" break

This song has all 3. You can have it.

12. The Joint
Country songwriters typically have a knack for a slick double meaning. In "The Joint", it's not that slick, and not hard to find about 4 lines in. I feel like it was a wasted opportunity to write something much better.

But what really stinks about this song is the sound (I don't know- trombones, bongos,  and that synthesizer again?), Eric's voice(whispery and high), and the tempo (ghostly, crawling vocals over the faster synth beat). Other than that, well, it's still struck out.


I don't download music on an iSomething. I listen to the radio until a commercial  or a Luke Bryan song comes on, then I change the station. I don't buy a lot of CDs, but when I do, I wear it out in my car cd player. This one will get a lot of play, but I'll definitely employ the skip button once or twice before it's done.








Wednesday, June 26, 2013

What's New?

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Friday, June 14, 2013

Father's Day

Since a solid 95% of this b-log's readers are fathers, I think it's appropriate to pay homage to dads and all the great things they do. After 31 years of research, here are my findings on what makes my Dad cool:

1. B-rent's D-ad coached Tee Ball back in the 1980's. He was assisted by his two brothers, Uncle Garry and Uncle Kevin. This team featured B-rent's brother and 3 or 4 cousins. We had green shirts. Anyhow, I started as a precocious 5 year old with no discernible talent for the game. By the time most of the older players had moved on to the league for 9 and 10 year old kids, I had been on the same Tee Ball team for 3 years or something. Sometimes I got to play first baseman, and that was my favorite position. My cousin, Jeff, played pitcher (in Tee Ball, you don't pitch, but you stand lethally close to home plate in a small circle). At least 5 times a game (Elias stats can back this up), batters hit a pop fly to the pitcher and he threw it to me at First Base for a double play. I really enjoyed playing that position.
Naturally, my Dad played unfavorites and moved me from 1st base soon after. In home video footage, I can be overheard while playing 2nd base asking my Dad if I could play 1st base. He usually got angry and said no, and I never played there again for that team.
He kept coaching until my little brother moved through the ranks. A few years later, he coached in one of the older leagues. I played one more year for him. After I moved on, he kept coaching and won a league championship with his team in the 9 and 10 year old league.

2. It's weird what Dad got mad at when I was little. Usually, it was about stuff like coming in the wrong door when playing outside. Or playing outside, then coming inside, then going out again. "In or out," he'd say. I understand now it was probably annoying to have a person (albeit your own son) walk in and out of the house when you're trying to watch the NASCAR race on TNN on one of your only days off for the week.

3. It's weird what Dad didn't get mad about when I was older. Once, when I was 16 or so, I borrowed his truck to drive to work, which was 47 feet away from our home. The boss sent my friend and I on a mission to get supplies. On the way back to work, I was talked into taking an unnecessary shortcut through a field down a dirt road. On the dirt road about 200 yards in was a puddle the size of a post office. I got stuck. After an hour or so, when the boss came to check out the situation (we called from a person's house) and yelled at us, we were finally towed out. There was mud in every crevice of my Dad's truck.
He didn't get mad about that. A few years later, my younger brother installed a telephone pole between the headlights of that same truck. I don't think he even got mad at that. It's weird.



Happy Father's Day to the guys celebrating their first as dads this year. And to the dads that have been doing it a while, keep up the good work.

Motorboatin'

Last night, we braved the post-derecho waters of the raging Potomac river to take a pleasure cruise. By now you should know that my wife and I don't do anything unless it's marketed towards dogs. This Canine Cruise highlighted Alexandria's rich history, from its humble beginnings as a slave port in the 18th century, to the present, where Old Town is a must-see tourist attraction.







Sunday, May 26, 2013