Monthly Archives: September 2015

Football

You probably noticed I haven’t blogged in awhile.  Many of you are probably worried sick.  Just so you know, I am just fine, although I have been having back spasms and some pesky post-nasal drip lately.  Part of the reason for the neglect has to do with misfortune.  Seven inches of rain that dropped from the sky in a 10 hour period managed to breach the basement wall of my family room a few weeks ago.  I had to move everything out of there, which meant disconnecting my big screen TV until I could resolve all my drainage issues.  And my television set that I watch outside on my patio wouldn’t work after i was forced to install the shitty mini cable box that my cable provider now requires.   It’s a double whammy for me, a shit sandwich that I unfortunately have to bite into, becCouch Potato Eats Popcornause it’s football season- big screen TV disabled and my outside TV not working.  It’s imperative those televisions fire up this time of year.  Sure I could watch my games in our bedroom, but that’s just not right. At least that’s my wife viewpoint.  I have to have my quarterly snacks, and she hates it when I sweep all the crumbs over to her side of the bed.

 

Watching Football

So I had a cubic yard of fill dirt delivered and I went to work filling in depressions in the ground close to the house that caused the seepage into my family room, sealed aMan Asleep with His Dogll step and sidewalk seems with polyurethane caulk (that shit is great- but pricey) and removed the saturated carpet and took it to the dump.  I scrapped the idea of reinstalling carpet, and instead went with PVC floor tiles.  But I had to wait a week for their delivery, which wasn’t necessary a bad thing because I had a lot of remodeling I wanted to do in the family room anyway.  I finally finished the room off yesterday.  We threw down a nice big area rug to tie things together.  It looks pretty sweet.                             Watching Soccer

I have to tell you I am not happy with my cable company.  Or Radio Shack.   After two no shows a cable company technician finally showed up only to tell me the cable I ran out to my patio years ago was not the preferred type and it would not conduct well enough for their piece of shit mini box.  Well fuck!  I bought that cable from Radio Shack and that’s what the doofus guy there cut and handed to me.  I wish I could find out who that jerk was.  I’d give him a good piece of my mind- maybe egg his house.  And I wouldn’t be using just average eggs.  No sir.  Extra-extra large.  And I’d let them set out in the sun for a week before I started flinging them.

I do remember that guy had a name tag, and though I can’t recall the name on it, the word “manager” was emblazoned boldly across it.  So of course I figured he knew what he was doing.  So because of that twit I had to spend a day re-running preferred cable to my patio.  The type you should use is RG6 if you feel in need of the information.  What pissed me off was everything was working just fine till that worthless mini box showed up.  My cable company mailed 3 of them to me for all my TV’s, and they acted like they were doing me a big favor.  My picture was going to be all super and swell because their stupid mini boxes would provide me with all digital reception.  Instead what I got in my back yard was an annoying TV screen  reminder that something wasn’t quite right and would necessitate a house call from a technician.  If the message had read something like “Thanks to the douchenozzle at Radio Shack, our piece of shit mini box won’t work,”  I think I would have been more tolerant of all the inconvenience my cable company was inflicting on me.

Wow!  Yesterday I got my outside TV all hooked up to my new cable and man, I hate to say it but all digital is the cat’s meow.  To be honest with you, the picture I was getting outside before the mini box era was a little distorted on a few channels- distorted in the way that all of us that lived in the 50’s remember picture distortion.  Television sets really took a beating back then.  What seemed to resolve an annoying vertical roll or fuzzy picture was a nice fist pounding to the top of the set.  So a little distortion was something I could live with.  At least there was a picture.  I couldn’t quite make out a ball in flight, but I could definitely see a bunch of  guys running around and knocking the shit out of each other.  And that’s really all I need.

Which brings me to the real reason my blogging has been on the back burner.  As you might have guessed, I have a character flaw, and it’s called football.  I am completely obsessed by the sport and I know it occupies way too much of my time but I can not help myself.  I played the game in grade school and high school and loved it, but I’d like to think now that I am a

Me Receiving Hand-Off During Practice for the Big Game Against St. Marys

Me Receiving Hand-Off During Practice for the Big Game Against St. Marys

reasonably mature person I can see that it is just a game, and more importantly, a game with significant physically and mentally destructive repercussions for those competing in it.  And that is probably where inlays its magnetic power.  For me the sport holds a gnawing compulsion to view much like the morbid curiosity invoked by a horrific car wreck.  And the money that’s involved.  Holy shit.

I know these things and yet I sit and watch, day and night.  But in my defense, while I have been sitting, I have been thinking of solutions.  I believe there are things we can do to make the game more palatable to our consciences.  I must tell you about them some day.  Maybe after the Super Bowl.

Geezuz!   Another 7 inches of rain the past two days.  You’ll be happy to know all is well in my basement.  Thank god!  Theres a Thursday night game tonight.

 

 

High School Reunion

IMG_2170IMG_2015

LEFT PIC: sitting l to r:  Leo Miltner, Al Feist, Dennis Kuntz, Roland Eck, Magnus Meier, Frank Hilsendager, Edgar Smith, Richard Schlosser, Dave Schmaltz.  Standing l to r: Rick Schwartz, Dave Bergman, Robert Dostal, Fred Enderle, Terry Lies, Mike Joyce, Ardell Hutton, Tony Sattler, Frank Croal, Al Hoff, Jim Ridley, Dave McGeary, Arnold Senger.  Not pictured in left photo but are in  RIGHT PIC:   Jerry Braxmeyer ( sitting-3rd from left)  Ray Hauck (sitting- far right).  Standing: Ron Goodman (7th from left) Richard Bitz (second from right)

 

See these?  These are  pictures of my high school class, Assumption Abbey’s class of ’65.  I think we look pretty darned good.  I mentioned awhile back that I would be attending my 50th year high school class reunion this summer.  See my May blog “Pre-class Reunion” if you’re curious.  You’ll  be happy to know it turned out to be a resounding success.  Almost half of our class was in attendance, remarkable in itself when you consider the possibility of grim death for anyone of full retirement age, but for me it will remain a statement of unique friendship locked in solidarity.  Managing to survive even one year at a preparatory boarding school with the strict religious discipline of a military barracks and the constant harassment and hazing from upperclassmen was no small accomplishment for any of us.

As I suspected would happen, many conversations occurred that brought back memories of long ago, some of which I had entirely forgotten.   We had about twenty five attendees, plus spouses, and I know there was no way everyone could mutually engage in all of the discussion  that went on in various groups, so I thought I would attempt to coalesce thoughts and experiences that I overheard and know about.  Of course all of this type of recollection will be more entertaining to my classmates.  But because I have a bad habit of being considerate, I thought I would try to maintain everyone’s interest by interjecting a little game here.  I am well aware  your attention span is just slightly above that of a cabbage. The game I was thinking of is that one where you match something in one column with something in another that has a logical connection.  Right here I call it a game anyway.  Back in high school something similar would be called a test, although you might more accurately have described it as a game as well, but more the guessing kind since you never threw your shoulder into studying much.  I think you’ll get the picture from this example:

1.  Dick Cheney                           a.__ When he was an infant his mother dropped him on his head

2.  Bozo the Clown                     b. __ Before he became a clown he was a U.S. Congressman

I kind of threw you a curve here.  As I am sure you know, one correct answer is 1 matches b.  I’m not so sure Bozo the Clown’s mom dropped him on his head, so maybe both a and b apply to Dick Cheney.  I think there is a good chance of that.

OK.  You get the idea.  Now see if you can match up my classmate with the significant thing he was noted for.  Listed are only a few of the names of students and their pranks, atrocities, and tribulations.  If your name is not included, sorry, but I only have room for a few and my memory isn’t what it used to be.  It probably would have helped if you had been more of a fuck-up in high school.

If you were not one of my classmates, you are understandably handicapped, but just like high school and college you can count on a grading curve to save your ass.  Also, if you were not a classmate, you will undoubtedly think I am making a lot of this shit up.   Though a little embellishment is involved in a couple of instances,  all the stories are true.  Some are the type of typical high school exploits and hijinks, but there are a few that push the envelope of infamy.

  1. David Bergman
  2. Al Feist
  3. Fred Enderle
  4. Mike Cummings
  5. Edgar Smith
  6. Rick Schwartz
  7. Mike Joyce
  8. Frank Hilsendager
  9. Dennis Kuntz
  10. Richard Schlosser
  11. Ron Wicka
  12. Ardell Hutton

a. When he was a sophomore he stole the football jersey of senior middle linebacker Jimmy “The Assiassin” O’Sullivan* and lived to tell about it.

b. When he was a junior, this classmate, so fed up with senior Mike “Mongo”  Johnson’s** penchant of helping himself to any underclassman’s soda,  became an instant class hero by swishing back a mouthful of Pepsi into the bottle and cleverly inducing “Mongo”  to swig the whole thing down- truly an act of both courage and cunning.

c. Notoriously known to be able to fart on demand, this classmate pulled multiple pranks in the Abbey library, but when he found out what all those bunches of paper sandwiched between two ridged pieces of cardboard were, he stayed away from the place.

d. This classmate went on to become a priest.  I am not sure if it means there is some mysterious religious significance to his visits, but once when visiting my home the image of the face of Jesus appeared just outside my front door after he failed to pay attention to the DIY oil change he performed in my driveway.

e. As you remember, this is the classmate that broke his neck after giving a demonstration of just how bad his depth perception is by performing a swan dive into 18 inches of water.

f. After getting shoved down a full flight of stairs, shot in the head with an arrow by a classmate, and nearly drowning in the Abbey Lake when someone pushed him off the floating raft under which he become helplessly trapped,  this classmate’s parents decided the Abbey was probably not offering the kind of education they preferred for their son and he did not return to the Abbey after his sophomore year. Because he was the victim of multiple atomic wedgies, he returned home without any underwear.

g. This classmate was the first recorded freshman to receive knuckled blasts from five different monks on five consecutive school days.

h.  After remarkably remaining conscious during Fr. Richard’s discussion of Longfellows’s poetry in American Lit class, this classmate remained a little over-enthusiastically reminiscent and he “Shot an arrow into the air- it fell to earth,” but in this case he DID know where,  which amounted to the very top of classmate f.’s head.

i.  This classmate occupied third chair in the cello section of the Abbey orchestra.  Initially he held the position precariously, but locked it down after he promised to follow his conductor’s orders to never, under any circumstances, let his bow touch the strings of his instrument.

j.  During his football career at the Abbey, this classmate single handedly administered a school record number of concussions to opponents and teammates alike, an achievement to which I can personally attest.

k. This classmate actually did milk five cows in the morning  and then walk three miles to school and back-uphill- both directions.

l. During our freshman year, this classmate set our class record for receiving the most lashes from a proctor’s razor belt.  It was nearly a school record, but a year later an incoming freshman surpassed it by two lashes.  So our classmate beat the holy shit out of him.  It was a vivid example of pecking order reestablishment.

* and **   I decided to make up some fictitious names here. One of these dudes was border-line psychotic and the other was someone I had similar impressions of so I figured the safest thing to do was protect the guilty in case either one of these non-classmates is still alive and bent on revenge.

I will give you the correct answers on another page.  You’ll just have to be patient.  You probably didn’t do for shit anyway.

I’ll tell you what.  I’ll try and help you out a bit.  I suppose looking at the class pictures above isn’t much to go by.  Lots of us look much smarter in those two photos than we actually were as teen agers.  I happen to have some candid shots laying around that will probably give you a better concept of individual identities.  You should know I was astonished that a good half dozen of the 25 that showed up were actually still alive, knowing what I know about them.  What I will do for you is give you pictures of all twelve of these classmates as they looked back in the 60’s.  It’s about all I have left in the way of photos anyway since I think I left my yearbook back at the Abbey when I was at the reunion.  I bet some dick that never liked me stole it.  Just so you know, I am pretty sure I can narrow it down to 15 or 20 of my classmates.

Ok then.  Go back up to names of my classmates and see if you can put a name on the face.

a.man-jumping-into-a-pool1-150x150      b.  Hanger     c. Unknown-2      d.Injured Man with Head Bandages    e.Unknown

 

f.Unknown-3   g.Quench head!     h.Depositphotos_69203067_s-2015.    i.pitchfork-crowd-2014    j.kluczowyklienetidei4vm-140x140

 

k.shawn       l.images-1

 

I hope that clears things up for you.  Anyway, here are the answers:

  1. David Bergman (correct photo g.)  Correct answer is “e”
  2. Al Feist (correct photo k.)  Correct answer is “i”
  3. Fred Enderle (correct photo l.)  Correct answer is “k”
  4. Mike Cummings (correct photo f.)  Correct answer is “h”
  5. Edgar Smith (correct photo a.)  Correct answer is “a”
  6. Rick Schwartz (correct photo e.)  Correct answer is “g”
  7. Mike Joyce (correct photo i.)  Correct answer is “b”
  8. Frank Hillsendager (correct photo h.)  Correct answer is “c”
  9. Richard Schlosser (correct photo j.)  Correct answer is “d”
  10. Dennis Kuntz (correct photo c.)  Correct answer is “j”
  11. Ron Wicka (correct photo d.)  Correct answer is “f”
  12. Ardell Hutton (correct photo b.)  Correct answer is “l”

Well, how did you do?  You probably shouldn’t be too hard on yourself for looking like such a stupid shit.  Heck, I bet half of my classmates mentioned here hardly remember any of the dumb stuff they did in high school, so they probably didn’t do any better than you did.  Don’t beat yourself up.  We can’t all be super stars.  I do wonder how in the hell you got Mike Cummings  wrong though.  Everyone knows that one.

This has been fun, but I have stuff to do.  I hope you now have some insight into typical conduct of the Assumption Abbey’s class of ’65.  No doubt you can’t wait for your 50th year reunion.  I’m not sure you will be alive, but knock yourself out if you make it.  You will be surprised how enlightening the event will be.