Rod Serling's Rockin' New Year's Eve

It's New Year's Eve, and here I am blogging. My wife is at work on her new third-shift job, and it's her birthday to boot. She also works tomorrow and Sunday nights.

As much as I wish she could be home, I'm still much happier on a night like tonight at home watching the Twilight Zone marathon on the Sci Fi channel. I enjoy the stories, plus recognizing all of the actors before they were stars. Plus, as an introvert who doesn't really like to drink in excess for its own sake, New Year's Eve is pretty much the dullest holiday there is.

I'll be off to Florida Monday on business, returning Wednesday, so it looks like I won't be able to celebrate my wife's birthday with her until Wednesday night at the earliest.

Meanwhile, that looks like a young Sheriff Lobo on the tube...

How Christmas Got a Little More Expensive

It's been a pretty good holiday season so far. The kids all seemed to enjoy themselves and their presents. Mom and Dad were in Florida, but we did get to spend some nice time with my sisters, nephews, and niece, plus my wife's extended family as well. Thanks in part to my wife starting her new job, we spent a little more cash this year than the past two Christmases, which seems to be the trend in the U.S. this year.

One unfortunate and unexpected extra expense this year will be coming from the heating bill. I discovered just today that the top half of the window by the bathroom had slid down about 1/3 of the way, leaving only the wood blinds and screen to protect us from the elements. Every now and then we had felt a draft, and my wife tells me she noticed the floor was cold by the bathroom.

I happened to walk by the window tonight and felt something of a draft, checked the window, and sure enough...I found the culprit. I have no idea why it wasn't latched. I'm pretty anal about latching windows for the very purpose of not wasting energy.

My best guess is it happened Saturday night when my older kids and I heard a noise we thought was just something falling in the nearby closet. Must have been the window sliding down, followed by our savings being sucked out of the opening.

It's Hard to Bowl With Your Hands Around Your Neck

Long-time Twins fans will recognize the Gary Gaetti reference in the title of this post. It comes from after the game in late September 1984 in which the Twins had a 10-0 lead, only to lose by allowing 11 runs, thereby throwing their pennant hopes away, almost literally. Gaetti made his quote when remarking after the game on a costly throwing error of his.

It was also in the 1980s when I bowled my first and only officially sanctioned perfect 300 game (February 8, 1988 to be exact). And speaking of 11-10, this past Tuesday in league night, I was perfect into the 10th frame, and made strikes on number 10 and 11. One more strike and I'd have my second perfecto in almost 23 years.

Sadly, I pulled a G-Man, let the adrenaline get to me, put too much speed on the final shot, and threw away a second 300, winding up with a six-count (leaving the 2-4-5-8 "bucket"). Yes, a six-count, for a 296. I could have done better throwing a straight ball. Actually, I did kind of throw a straight ball...that was the problem; it was supposed to hook more.

I placed it right where I wanted to. Bo Burton was famous for saying on the old PBA telecasts that direction is 95 percent of the game. That's not true anymore, what with today's technology. And it wasn't true for me last Tuesday night.

I only hope it's not another 22+ years before finding myself in that position again.

A Couple More Bad Dreams

In my post last night, I ended with a joke about running from Bigfoot in a dream. While that didn't happen as I dreamt last night, I did have another recurring dream of which I forgot to mention. I'm guessing the reason I had the dream was that after I finished posting, I thought about a couple of dreams I could have added, and thought, "Well, I'll just add them later." Sure enough, I had one of them. Here it is:

7. Being a Radio Announcer Again. This always starts out very positively in the dream, and last night was no exception. In this case, it was my third radio job, in Carroll, Iowa, and I've decided to chase my dream job once again. I get hired in Carroll, even move my family down there, and start my first day back. I reconnect with old co-workers and friends. I thank my old program director for taking another chance on me.

Then all hell breaks loose. During my air shift, I only remember vaguely how to operate the board, I fail to have songs cued up and ready to play, and I don't have the latest forecast ready to read during the weather segment. It's awful, and what starts out as a dream I don't want to end, winds up being one from which I'm glad I wake.

I can't remember what the other recurring dream I thought of is. Perhaps I'll remember it later tonight, before I fall asleep, and tomorrow will be able to write about having the same dream. I'm sure you're hanging on the edge of your seat for that.

My Recurring Nightmares

I don't have nightmares per se, like the kind with monsters or horror of any sort. Occasionally a dream might be a little frightening, but for the most part, I just have "bad" dreams from time to time. Some of them are recurring. Here are the most common, in no particular order:

1. Plane Crashes. I have recurring dreams of both witnessing plane crashes, like the catastrophic kind, and also being a passenger on them, which are more like the bizarre kind. Like flying between buildings in a downtown area, and then crash landing in a field. I always come out unscathed, and shortly thereafter I wake up.

2. Law School. This is my least favorite of all. I have a lot of school dreams, and many are wonderfully nostalgic, and I'm a bit sad to wake from these. High school, my one full semester at the U of M, and Alexandria Technical College tend to be the "good" dreams about being in school. I always wake up the moment I realize I am in fact nowhere near 18 anymore.

The Law School dreams, however, are rarely so kind. Typically, they will involve me showing up for a class, the name of which I'm typically not familiar, nor have I studied for the day's lesson, or worse, final exam. Absolutely horrible. Let's move on...please.

3. Sports. I hate these because my better sports, like bowling, golf, and softball, tend to take on surreal turns (gee, go figure, it's a dream after all). I might find myself playing golf, and one hole will suddenly include a tee box in someone's living room. This is fine, as there is a large enough gap in the wall to drive the ball through, but my backswing will be obstructed by the bar (as in liquor cabinet). The common link to these sports dreams tends to be that they end up playing on a field much smaller than the real life game, I tend to have little control over what I'm doing in them (for example, I'll find the holes in the bowling ball don't fit), and they rarely last long.

The only recurring positive sports dream I have is when I'm playing basketball and get serious hang time, like I'm practically floating up towards the hoop, and then dunk with ease. But even those kind of suck, like I might find myself having trouble holding on to the ball on the way up.

4. Tornadoes. I always survive these, and in fact some are a little exciting. But then there are the ones where I'm trying to protect my kids in a house that is getting hit by one. I was scared by tornadoes as a kid, so I'm sure that's why I still get these. But at least I've matured so as not to have them be quite so frightening, usually.

5. Bigfoot. Yeah, I know I said I've matured, and I said, "No monsters," but this goes back to my youth as well, when I believed in Sasquatch. They can some times be a little frightening, and often the setting is my grandmother's farm house near Alexandria, MN. They occur less often, however, and I think that may be because over the years I've come to dismiss Bigfoot as a real possibility of existing.

6. Losing my Teeth. I had this one just a couple nights ago. Odd thing about these ones is that each time I convince myself that "I'm not dreaming this time...oh no! I've ground my teeth to the point of them crumbling right out of my mouth!" And then when I wake, I always make sure to bite down to see if they are still there. I do grind my teeth during these dreams, and even used to wear a fitted mouth piece to keep from making my already teeth minuscule by the time I'm in my 60s. I've made it to 44, and they haven't shrunk that much, so we'll see in 20 years or so.

Generally, I tend to like dreams, because the good ones are fun, and the bad ones are always a relief to wake up from. But I do wish I had more "success" in my sports dreams. Especially when trying to run. My feet tend to move like they're stuck in the mud.

Let's hope that doesn't happen tonight when I'm fleeing Bigfoot at Grandma's place.

Down Goes the Dome

The last time I made a prediction about the Minnesota Vikings, I thankfully was wrong. I predicted EJ Henderson would never play again, or at least never near the level at which he did prior to his serious leg injury last year.

Hopefully, I will improve to 1-for-2 with this one: The latest collapse of the Metrodome roof, sagging ever so near Mall of America Field, will be one day remembered as the turning point in the Vikings getting a new stadium.

Actually, I could get this prediction right and regret it. That is, it could be known as a "turning point" in the Vikings getting their stadium in LA or some other metropolis suitor. For some day, people may remember that the politicians of Minnesota thumbed their figurative noses at the franchise even after proof was given to those not sharp enough to already realize that the Vikings played in one of about three of the worst professional sports venues in the country.

In 1998, when then-governor-elect Jesse Ventura, said that Minnesota did not need a new stadium, he was spot on for two reasons. One was because then-owner Red McCombs was able to secure the team at such a bargain price because of the lack of a top-notch stadium.

The other reason was, to quote Jesse from memory, because we don't tear down schools after 16 years, referring to the Humpty Dump's age at the time. No, we don't, but now it's been 28 years, and we would tear down a 28-year-old school building that was this embarrassing.

Or at least should.