RTFM

I sometimes try not to use profanity, so I will not spell out what the acronym RTFM stands for, but a close approximation is “Read the Fool Manual”.

The type of “manual” I’m referring to is not the instructions on a bag of microwave popcorn or the ever-so-helpful directions on the liquid soap container. You can safely ignore those. No, I’m talking about the ones that matter- for example, the ones with detailed pictures or the ones written by someone you know personally.

If you grab those a-ma-zing Lego assembly instruction booklets and toss them out the window, you’re in for some trouble. You are GOING to have a stack of leftover pieces if you just “wing it” by looking at the picture on the front of the box. Read the doggone instructions- one stinking page at a time! Daggummit. RTFM.

If you are at work and someone hands you a document that you ask for because you’re trying to accomplish a task, how about you just read the thing and follow it- maybe even all of it. It’s not some poorly-translated “engrish fail” half-Korean, half-Sanskrit manual for a frying pan. No, it’s typically the product of hours of school-of-hard-knocks lessons. The author wrote the darn thing because he or she beat their head against a wall a few times and didn’t want to have to go through that mess all over again next year when they have to do their process again. RTFM, daggummit!

For any of you loyal readers that are asking yourselves “Why the rant? Don’t tase me, bro!” allow me to explain. I just sent an email with an attachment to a competent IT guy. He disregarded half of my instructions, which I dutifully repeated in my reply to his “this junk didn’t work” email. I wish that someone in his past had sat him down and told him, “Dude, RTFM. Every time. Daggummit. Seriously.”

So, consider yourselves all informed. I am officially sitting you all down and instructing you to pay attention, RTFM, and start doing that right now. Daggummit.

Miniature Golf Is A Serious Sport

Beth's post about our recent Miniature Golfing Trip to Myrtle Beach told only part of the story, so I thought I'd... embellish.

Seth demonstrates his commitment and dedication to the sport with his stance.

David, while deviating slightly from the serious image we golfers typically portray with his pink ball, demonstrates an admirable level of concentration in this challenging finishing putt.

Beth's Dad (Grandaddy) is the epitome of concentration. As Seth is being stalked by a ferocious dinosaur, he is keeping his cool and lining up his putt.

I had two recorded Holes In One during the game and this would have been my third, if I had nudged it a bit harder or if the wind had remained constant. I took the wind into account using my handy dandy slide-rule, but Mother Nature isn't as constant as I am.

More juicy details:

• Grandaddy stomped us all royally the first round. He was only a few strokes over par and more than 5 strokes better than any of the rest of us. Grandaddy was the best overall because he was both accurate and precise (he only deviated by one point between rounds and stayed very close to par in both). I'm appalled that my darling wife would have the audacity to laugh at such a fine specimen of a golfer as the Magnificent Grandaddy.
• I came back in spectacular form (if I do say so myself) to beat everyone by 1 or 2 strokes the second round. I won the title of the Most Improved by making up 9 strokes between the two rounds.
• Seth and David both dominated their respective age classes.
• Seth was the only other one in the crowd who had a recorded Hole In One.
• David was heroic in saving my borrowed hat from certain peril. The wind took it but David, leaping across the raging creek in a single bound, caught it before it got to the outer fence. Such gallantry!

And that, my friends, is something MUCH closer to the real story.

It's Alive!

Thank you, my loving, supportive public. Your prayers and well-wishes have been rewarded.

My little tree (Tree 2.0) has survived the harsh South Carolina winter. Go ahead! Laugh it up! It almost thought about snowing a time or two. Sorta. We even had snow days. (Sure, there was no snow, but school was canceled nonetheless.)


Behold! Green things sprouting out of the branches. It's alive! It's alive!


The other tree that I tried to transplant was just too traumatized by the move, so I'm going to have to remove it.

Project: TV Stand

We got a new TV and didn't really have a place for it. So, we put it on top of the old console TV that Beth's grandparents gave us (thanks, Grandma and Gramps).

Well, around the beginning of the year, we decided to try to find a TV stand to match the TV. We looked at Walmart.com, Target.com, HH Gregg, Circuit City (remember them?), Best Buy, and even a couple of real furniture stores. Bottom line- we weren't happy with what we found.

The ones that had enough storage space and looked nice were well over $500 and our budget was $250. The ones that were affordable were either cheaply made, ugly, or didn't have enough storage space (or a combination of those).

So, by golly, we made one. This was, by far, the hardest project I've ever completed. It also looks nicer than anything I've ever made (besides my adorable kids, heh heh heh). And I approached it in an entirely different way- each step was its own mini-project. I decided to make the cabinet and if it turned out well I'd make drawers. If they turned out well, I'd make doors. And if it was acceptable all together, I'd finish (stain and seal) it.

Step 1: The Cabinet



Step 2: Drawers



Step 3: The Doors



Step 4: Finish!



Check out the storage space! (Beth loves those things.)



And we made it within our budget as well! Woohoo!

P.S. Take a closer look at the links, and hover over the pictures with your mouse. "Easter eggs" abound.

The Den Du Jour

My buddy Frank was telling me the other day about a newly-learned husband skill: Compromise.
He said, "Here's how it works. I want something one way and she wants it another way. We compromise and do it her way." I believe we can all read between the lines of that one, but just to be sure I asked him, "So, when you 'compromise' you really just end up doing what she wants? You're the one that's 'compromised'?" "Exactly," agreed Frank. Good man!

This rearrangement was a compromise, but not like the one described above. The piano isn't as convenient to access as the other way, but the Reading Station survived. And since I didn't want as much focus on the TV, my comfy chair got placed completely out of its view.

Can't get enough!

I LOVE being itchy- especially when it's somewhere I can't reach. It reminds me of what life's all about!
My doctor is so concerned for my well-being that when I showed up for a physical and told him I loved having an itch I can't scratch, he hooked me up! He's the man.

So here's how it goes (guys only):

1. Take off your shirt (feel alive)
   
2. Reach for the nearest "dry razor"
3. Cut a nice, wide path right through that luxurious chest hair of yours
4. Attach leads to your chest (medical tape works as well)
   

That's it- you'll be scratching for days- maybe even weeks!

Explanation: I went for a physical and the doctor prescribed a Holter monitor for 24 hours to check my heart. Everything's normal, it's just part of his routine.



Yeah!