BulletBoys write! (unedited)

Ah, the Internet.

Allegedly I had none other than BulletBoys bassist Rob Lane reply to my review of his show from February at Pickle Park. Specifically, it was this post: Bulletboys Sing!

And he did so this past weekend, more than three months after I wrote it.

I have no idea how easily it would be to find my review of the show via a Google search, and I don't care. I write for my benefit. If somebody stumbles across a blog entry, that's great. If they respond...all the better. But that's not the purpose of my writing, as I have said many times.

Rob is the current bassist of the band. Of course I don't know who he is, I can't even remember the original BulletBoys, despite being a fan of the band back in the day. Somehow Rob stumbled across my review and read it. (Again, we're assuming it was Rob who wrote it.)

Rob appears to be rather busy in the music industry, so when he's not playing bass for Marq Torien, he's playing in other bands. Probably a good idea, as I can't imagine a dude can make a living performing with the BulletBoys in 2009.

Rob didn't say much. He thought it was a good set, even though I pointed out it was missing one significant song in the BulletBoys catalog.

I admire him for reading it and not judging my opinion. I was critical of the set, disappointed by the lead singer's effort, underwhelmed by the band as a whole and questioned why the band is still in existence. Despite that, he didn't suggest I was an idiot or a moron for my opinions. It's hard to be criticized for your work, even if you're just one piece of the puzzle, and not be defensive. That's rather cool, and I admire the guy for it.

While I'm not interested in paying to see the BulletBoys again, perhaps I'd go if the ticket is free. And last I read, the BulletBoys are touring with what passes for Faster Pussycat and Bang Tango these days. (Faster Pussycat is much like BulletBoys...lead singer and nobody else from the glory days. Can't say for sure if more than the Bang Tango lead singer is still around.) So perhaps I'll see the BulletBoys yet again, if this tour comes to town.

If it does, I'll go out of my way to introduce myself to Rob, and then hope it was really him who commented on my blog.

I have to think it's legitimate. I know a lot of people like to screw around on the Internet, but nobody can be so bored that he'd impersonate a replacement BulletBoy. Not even me.

Impatient fag (unedited)

Today I was told I am an "impatient fag."

I set out to bike, on a sunny, breezy Sunday afternoon. I was using my typical bike trails, and plenty of other people were, too. I expected that.

I was in perhaps my third mile when the trail I was using winds through a park. There are plenty of people using the park, and I expect it to be a bit slow going through this area at times.

I came behind a couple of people riding single file. We were about to go slightly downhill. This duo, presumably husband and wife, were probably in the upper 50s or lower 60s. I was going to pass them as we were going to go down the hill, so I announced "on the left" as I was getting ready to pass. That's a common thing you do when biking, sometimes out of courtesy, sometimes out of necessity. Sometimes I don't announce my pass, and sometimes I just say left.

I announced a pass, but realized that it would be a bit tight, as others were coming from the opposite way, so I sat behind the dude immediately ahead of me, slowed down a bit and waited patiently, I thought, for a clear opportunity to pull around.

I heard the woman ahead of him asking a question. I didn't hear the question, but he said something along the lines of, "You're fine, it's just an impatient fag behind me."

So when I had a chance to finally pass clearly a few seconds later, I said something like, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

He quickly responded with his fag comment again. I quickly responded with a "thanks homo" type response.

I swear his response was, "You want to stop right now and find out?"

Find out what? If I'm gay? What was he going to do, pull his pants down and see how I responded?

I think the guy was trying to suggest he wanted to fight. This fat tub of goo was like the belligerent drunk. He was angry at the world and wanted to fight anybody, over anything. And why was he pissed at me? Because I announced I was going to pass, but didn't because of oncoming bikers.

I should have stopped at the cross street. There was a softball game going and tons of people. I'd love to see what he would have done. And I'd love to hear his explanation for why I was a impatient fag.

I felt bad for the woman ahead of him. She tried to say something to me along the lines of "please just keep going and ignore him." I felt bad for her. I've been in that spot. I've been with somebody who wants to shoot his/her mouth off, seemingly unprovoked. You just want the other person to ignore the stupidity and move on. If she's married to this jackass, I can't imagine how she can tolerate him if he's prone to such ridiculousness, for no reason whatsoever.

As I was passing her by, I said something about how I thought my life was miserable, but he takes the case. He continued to rant about stopping or something like that and I heard her telling him something along the lines of having had enough of him and wanting to end the bike ride.

I just don't get it.

As I crossed the road and continued down the trail, the ridiculousness of his comments cracked me up. It was just so damn stupid. I started laughing, and laughing, and laughing. I was laughing rather loudly as I slowly biked along the trail. It was that stupid. As I slowly rolled down, I looked back down the trail, and there he was, slowly plodding along. I could see him gesturing somehow. I'm not sure if he was trying to waive me back, so he could find out if I was a fag, was waving his fist at me or was waving his middle finger. I carried on, rather amused by the episode.

If my life ever gets that miserable, seriously, I promise I'll commit suicide.

You're not that important (unedited)

It's a sad world we live in.

I get it, when you get a new toy, you want to play with it. As mobile phone proliferated, people were anxious to play with their new toy.

And as technology improved, people began using phones as cameras, Internet browsers and e-mail devices, via the popular, highly pointless text messaging service.

Sadly our dependence upon mobile phones has gone from novelty to necessity. It wasn't that many years ago that we lived without constant contact/updates from anyone and everyone, but we're a society of self-importance now. If we don't have people texting us every five minutes, our lives aren't that important. Now people can mass text their friends and random fans via Twitter. There's a time and place for texting and Twitter. Sadly too many people create times and places because they lack legitimate ones.

We've all seen millions of examples of the ridiculousness created by mobile phones. And it's probably too late to turn back. We've become a society of self-important nobodies. It really shouldn't be surprising. It's just another turn in the evolution of this toilet earth.

36. 36 posts in 40 nights (unedited)

I made 90 percent of the goal, and that ain't bad when it comes to blogging.

I struggled for ideas at times, I failed to write about the one topic I had been avoiding when I started 40 nights ago and my final week wound up chronicling the aftermath of a disappointing week that wasn't my fault.

I found inspiration in unlikely places, chronicled silly moments in my life that may otherwise never have found themselves in print and wrote too many personal reflections. Such is life.

Thursday night I'm going to be busy preparing for my Friday morning departure...it's the 20th annual spring camping extravaganza. Unless I witness something amazing, tomorrow is the first of at least three nights off.

I'm not sure to make a habit of forcibly writing blogs one night after another, but there was some value to doing so, and perhaps I will try this experiment again. Just not any time soon.

35. Turn down the heat (unedited)

The Twin Cities shattered its record high temperature today. Last I heard, the high temperature was expected to be in the low 80s Tuesday.

The record high was something like 89 degrees. Today it hit 97. It was the first time it has been this hot since July 2007. And it's not even June.

Weather extremes are funny things. It's so rare to get this hot, then it happens on a date when the Twin Cities have never hit 90 degrees. I was in the office all afternoon, so I had no idea how hot it was. When somebody mentioned it early this evening, I didn't believe it.

Stranger yet, it hit 100 degrees in southern Minnesota this afternoon. At the same time, it was more than 60 degrees cooler in northern Minnesota. It's not unusual to see wide variances in the weather from north to south. And sometimes it's the opposite of what you'd expect. It's not that ridiculous for it to be warmer at the Canadian border than it is at the Iowa border. But typically that's not the case, and I don't think a variance of more than 60 degrees happens very often. Today was doubly odd in Minnesota.

Well, at least it wasn't humid. I went for my beginning-of-season bike ride about an hour before sunset. It was warm, but not typical of hot days in Minnesota. There's rarely dry heat in this state. When it gets hot, it gets humid. Today was the exception to that rule.

Too bad it was so damn windy. And of course the wind had to be blowing against me during the final miles of my daily loop, not during the opening miles. Such is life.

I may not remember the details distinctly, but Tuesday was one of those highly atypical days I won't forget any time soon. And I'd appreciate not repeating it any time soon. Although compared to an average day four months ago, I have no business complaining.

34. Lucky (unedited)

As I have said, I consider myself lucky.

I lost over $100 in cash, which will irritate me this fall when I go on vacation somewhere. Stealing my coins didn't hurt me in the pocketbook, but I'll be reminded of the burglary as I'm assembling my cash for vacation. Those coins were a little bonus for my next vacation.

And I probably won't have a new digital camera. Mine wasn't high-tech, wasn't the greatest camera out there, but it worked well for me. That makes me as sad as the cash, even though I could replace the camera for less than the cash I lost. Maybe I'll get lucky and find the exact camera cheap enough that I can replace it.

As for the stolen rum, I'm glad the moron took that rather than something more valuable, like my GPS receiver sitting near my computer.

But I'm lucky. I know several people who have lost far more than me.

Off the top of my head:

February 2008, a former co-worker had his car broken into. I seem to recall the window was smashed. Even if he lost nothing, the cost of getting the window fixed was likely more than the total value of what I lost. And it's not as if you can go without fixing the window for a while. I've seen people try, but in winter it's even more ridiculous.

Another former co-worker, Kim, has been through it twice. Her more recent episode was in the house she bought a few years ago. Like me, somebody decided the workday was the best time to break in undetected. The perp busted in through her back door, carrying out a TV, DVD player and a few other things to a vehicle parked behind her house. I think she lost jewelry, too. While it wasn't high-buck bling, some of it was sentimental, of course.

Kim's first episode was in an apartment she shared. I don't know the how and when of it, but it was before Christmas. I think both roommates lost Christmas presents they had purchased for others. I don't recall what all was lost, but Kim lost some jewelry, and clothes. She thinks that a woman went through her stuff, picking out jewelry she liked rather than just taking everything, which is odd, and taking select clothes as well. The perp(s) made quite a mess of the apartment in their search, evidently. Jennifer told me that it was quite the unsettling experience for Kim. I can understand that.

A college friend and her roommate were hit a year or two after we had graduated college. They lost electronics and a lot of other stuff.

My buddy Scott and his wife were hit a year ago or so. They live in a small town an hour outside of Minneapolis, and somebody hit their house during the work day, taking video game systems and games, not to mention some of his wife's jewelry. Again, the jewelry had far more sentimental value than anything else.

My aunt and uncle in Brooklyn Park got hit pretty hard a year or so ago. Lots of stuff taken, again during the workday.

Another aunt and uncle got hit a few years ago. I think they caught the perp(s) in that one. My uncle has a lot of valuable golf equipment, and much of that was taken. Some of it was recovered at either a secondhand sporting goods store or a pawn shop. The shop offered the perp(s) pennies on the dollar for his valuable equipment. Somehow the connection was made between the clubs and my uncle.

There may be something I don't realize is missing, but the purpose of my burglary was a quick cash grab. It was successful, but it could have easily been worse. I'm glad the jackass didn't have the time, or balls, to scour my place carefully. I am very lucky.

33. His colors don't run (unedited)

Upon arriving home to my apartment on Wednesday I quickly made my way in to see if there was a mess, or anything was missing.

It was clear my apartment had been searched, and knowing I had $125 worth of coins in my bedroom, I noticed immediately they were missing. I hadn't grabbed my phone when I jumped out of my car, so I had to go back to the car to grab it. I called 911 immediately and began giving my report while standing in the courtyard of the two 12-unit buildings of my development.

The new guy upstairs heard me, and after I went to the opposite building to post an advisory sign of a burglary, I crossed paths with him. He's a retired guy, some sort of military veteran, and your classic racist.

He told me he was certain it was somebody in one of the two buildings who could easily watch who comes and goes, and when. There are minority residents in our building...heck, my city is like a mini United Nations, so there's no such thing as a "white" building. There are some nicer buildings with higher rents, I am sure, but this suburb ain't white bread suburbia. There are a variety of nationalities represented in our buildings.

And it has been a relatively quiet building for the year I have lived in it. There are a few families in the buildings, and kids irritate me when they're running around outside, trying to entertain themselves right outside my windows, in a courtyard that lacks any playground amenities. Unfortunately there's no semblance of a park nearby. Such is life.

I wouldn't rule out an "inside" job, but I could just as easily see somebody taking advantage of my buildings on a weekday because it's relatively easy. There are few cars in our parking lot during the weekday. Heck, I've come by on a weekday afternoon and there's not a car to be seen in our lot. That doesn't mean our buildings are empty, as some people park on the street, but I bet they're pretty close to empty some days.

Our building doesn't have secure outer doors. So you can come right in, walk down half a flight of stairs and give the door a good kick. If anybody in the building hears it, he or she doesn't immediately assume burglary, since we haven't had any problems that I know of in our buildings in the past year.

If it wasn't an inside job, I'd bet it's somebody who lives in the vicinity, has some knowledge of my building, has perhaps scouted it a bit to get an idea of what the likelihood is that anybody is around and then went to work. Unless somebody has been watching me, then if the dude was smart he knocked on the door first, as if he was looking for somebody, then kicked it in upon determining nobody was home.

Why me? Quick in and quick out from the door. Who's going to go up to third floor to randomly pick an apartment? And there's no way anyone could have known what I did or didn't have of value in here, so it was very random. The blinds are never open for long periods of time, and are only open occasionally when I'm here. And it's very rare that I bother to open them. I could have a nice TV, or no TV, and there would be little chance for anyone to make that determination.

It was random. But the racist doesn't think so. He even suggested it was probably a minority, and made some comment about wanting to kill him/them. He made this comment deliberately as a minority family walked past us into our building. He's a racist, and he's not afraid to show it.

He also mentioned he owns a gun, and wouldn't hesitate to use it. Anybody know the recipe for disaster? I think racist is going to stew a pot of it, if he doesn't get booted from the apartment first.

If there's any doubt, this is the same guy who passed out with his tub filling at midnight on Thursday night.

I like my Asian neighbor better.

And just today I noticed a little message penned onto the note I taped on the wall by the mailboxes. My note advises people to be alert and cautious as they could be next. Somebody wrote something about hoping the thief doesn't pick "us," as he/they have a .44 Magnum and would love to kill the culprit.

I don't know who wrote it, but I have a hunch.