It's funny how we can ignore certain problems until it is almost to late to do anything about it.. This is a fact that my now semi famous black Lab Spazz discovered the hard way recently as he learned to deal with the arrival of a new puppy in our house.

Red, the puppy is a female who most resembles a canine version of the energizer bunny with an attention deficit disorder or maybe Brittainy Spears on speed. Even her eyes are in constant motion and she even wags her tail in short hyperactive bursts. I can almost hear her speaking as she stops briefly to look around the room. (pant, pant pant...okay ran around the room twice, bit everything, what do I do now ...is that a bug......whats that smelll, gotta bite something...whats that oh a bug....run some more bite something rufruffruffruffruffruffruffruff, run run run bit bite..bite...gotta bite something...oohh a bug " you get the idea. The puppy became fond of nipping at Spazz's anatomy as he slept

He had learned to ignore the puppy's annoying tendency to playfully nip at you with her needle sharp puppy teeth....  After one brief look at me seeming to beg for permission to bite just one of her ears off with is intense brown eyes he sighed and much like an older brother rolled his eyes at the puppy and rolled over to complete his nap.

For whatever reason that day she was particularly active that day nipping at his tail as he slept. He ignored her rolluing his doggy eyes She then nipped at his back and he rolled his eyes again and rolled over to continue napping.  Spazz so named for his childhood tendency for constant motion has mellowed over the years and felt that at the mature five years of age he was simply to old and worldly for such childish antics. When the puppy continued in her circling him, this time nipping at the thick skin on his neck he looked at me again, "Come on let bite off one of her toes, a little one," when permission was not forthcoming he yet again he rolled his eyes and rolled over to continue his nap.

Next time around she nipped at Spazz's ears and in spite of his annoyance, he rolled his eyes and again ignored her again.

As you may know the aforementioned Spazz was narrowly saved from being fixed by household budget problems and his own dog Jedi mind powers. The mental cries of  "Dude don't do it and thse aren't the jewels you are looking for " still echo in my mind.

Spazz, like most guys is perhaps understandably sensitive about certain parts of his anatomy. As Spazz lay there ignoring her she nipped him again this time at one of his front feet and then at the fleshy part of his furry chest and again he ignored her and turned over to complete his nap. She reminds me a bit of a Siamese cat my family had as a child. She had been raised with two dogs and thought she was one, right up to the point of trying to bark at strangers when they approached the house.  The puppy nipped at his belly ...He again made a decided effort to ignore her ....gritting his teeth a little this time. A lot like siblings their is jealously between the two dogs  and Spazz looked up at me again seeming to ask for credit in not biting part of his little sisters anatomy off an then suddenly stood up and growled at her with such intensity and anger that for a second I was genuinely worried that, as he is a much bigger and stronger dog, he was finally going to bite part of her off. It seems that Red was biting her way around he body and Spazz ignored her until he was hot by the epiphany that his most treasured and sensitive part of his body was indeed next on her biting list and none of his Jedi dog powers would help him. "Spazzmo," I yelled using his full name much in the way a parent would when their "child." It was tense for a moment then Spazz sighed again keeping an eye on Red as he turned away. For her part Red stood there tilting her head from side to side like pop star at a grammy award show staring at a malfunctioning teleprompter...and then dashed off to chase a bug or bite somethign that did not bite back.

"What...what...is that a bug...gotta bite something ..play play play ...is that a bug....she seemed to say as she trotted off"

Neither dog has really changed in that brief time period of time since that episode but Spazz no longer ignores her. He has learned like many of us have that when you ignore a problem it usually gets worse until you get up and do something about it.

Stupid Questions and the Hopefully smart People who ask them ???

When was the War of 1812?

"What time is the 7:30 show?" a woman asked me as I stood in or near the cashiers cage at Treasure Island hotel/casino in Las Vegas in the mid 90s. Treasure Island was then a Pirate themed casino/hotel that boasted a huge theatrical production of a battle between a pirate ship and a small British war ship as its featured attraction.

To maintain good guest relations, by not laughing at the question and thereby the guest , I  merely stood silent for several moments. After regaining my composure I took a deep breath and said simply...'about 9:30..." Several shows had show had been delayed that day for technical reasons as the shows often were.

 Most people who ask such questions do it by accident. like the woman I mentioned earlier.  Later that same year as I was standing in the Treasure Island hotel's frtont lobby another guest gestured at the front door and asked quite innocently "is that Las Vegas????' He likely meant to ask if that was Las Vegas Blvd. just outside the door of the hotel, but that is not how the question came out.

The silly question is sometimes best answerwed by a silly answer. The silly answer to a silly question is a game can be played deliberately if you practice. Once a tourist in that self same casino looked me straight in the eye and asked me if I knew where the bathroom was. I replied 'why yes I do I work here.' When I worked at a newspaper in Texas after I introduced myself as a reporter for the local rag and interviewed the person for nearly a half hour the person paused and in all seriousness asked "You're not going to puit this in the paper are you....????

It  is one I have learned to play well with my 12-year-old daughter Alyssa, someone those of you who read my blogs know well. Once she asked me "Daddy when will I get to date..."

I simply replied..."Yes."

once she asked me,  "Daddy can I borrow $5 ????

Correct Answer: The salad fork goers on the left.

Question. Daddy will you really take me shopping sor school clothes ????

Answer...silence and fidgeting upon realization that shopping for school clothes includes assorted underwear... Growing number of smiles int he room reveal that the joke is one me.

The war of 1812 started in June of 1812 if anybody is interested>>>>

This is a story about pasta and pride bear with me as I explain...

People  are like dogs in many ways. They desire what they are used to _ what seems familiar to them and they like to please the people they care about.
The other day I was at work outside sweating like a _ well a dog, when a cool breeze hit me full in the face. My first reaction was something like - hey that feels good.  Then I thought  what is this weirdness a cool breeze in August.
Having grown up in the warm subtropical climate of southeast Texas where  freezing temperatures are a once in a decade phenomena I suddenly found  myself freaked out by the idea of a cool breeze blowing across the countryside in August. Now to the point of my story.

I do most of the cooking in my house and am pretty good at it  for the most part. When times were tough I made a mean meatloaf and Rice a- Roni meatballs with gravy and cornbread cassarole and when they were better roast beef and stuffed pasta shells.

My daughter Alyssa, inspired at least partly I believe, by her father's skill with a stove .and aided by the cooking network or the food channel or some such nonsense has periodically tried her own hand at making a ‘recipe" usually with mixed results. I got used to the idea of smiling indulgently and patting her on the head and pretending it was great even if it was not.
Well one day _ bored out of her mind _ and up to her neck in the summertime blues- she decided to experiment with another recipe. I learned by phone that she was cooking supper  - breaded baked chicken on pasta with sauce.
Well I prepared myself to be indulgent and pat her on her 12-year-old head and smile as usual then fate threw a wrench in the works. I sat down at the table with my family and took a big bite of my daughter's concoction and was nearly knocked over with surprise. It was good - damn good and after several minutes I was forced to admit that I was a little jealous of her ability to make such a good meal from scratch on an impulse.  This time it was she who smiled indulgently and although she did  not pat me on the head it was obvious she was pleased by the turn of events.
I guess you should be proud when your children outdo you in things that you have for the most part taught them., perhaps this day she did, with a little help from TV chefs like Alton Brown.  So it is with pride that I present the recipe for Chicken Alyssiana created by "Chef" Alyssa Ann Hopper...my 12-year-old daughter.
Ingredients....
Sauce: ¾ jar of Prego garlic and herb spaghetti  sauce; a can of Rotel,a concoction of canned   diced tomato and green peppers;  two table heaping spoons of ranch dressing, dash of instant chicken broth, and broth from  several pieces of chicken, and some bread crumbs...

Breading: Regular bread crumbs, Italian bread crumbs, and five flavored crotons of your favorite flavor....

Basting : chicken broth, half teaspoon of butter, small dash of seasoned meat tenderizer,  and sprinkle of instant broth.

3 to 6 pieces of chicken

Put raw chicken in oven covered in two layers of foil and cook at 200 degrees. ..until done. Take broth out of pan. Melt basting ingredients in pan  with broth and baste chicken regularly .
Cook favorite pasta spaghetti noodles work well and combine sauce ingredients in separate pan and cook together.
When chicken is mostly done but not falling apart bread chicken and continue cook, breading periodically and moistening the breading a little as needed with the baste as needed.
Serve sauce over pasta and chicken on top, garlic bread makes a nice add on.

How hairy is too hairy...to go outside that is the question.

It is a question that occured to me at work a few days ago when I, out and about and about my lawn care duties. I pulled up to one lawn and began to lawn care away. When suddenly when I heard a friendly sound from the opposite side of the yard. It was the owner of the lawn, with queations no doubt,  I thought as I  put on my best smile, took a deep breath and looked to where the voice came from.

The site that greeted me nearly knocked me down. What I saw was not a man at al. It was a patch of hair with arms legs and eyes. It was the Incredible Hulk of hairy chia pets. The dude was shirtless and so hairy, I nearly called 911 to report  a sasquatch sighting. The site hit me like a ton of hairy bricks. and nearly left me speechless.

 I mean this guy was a forest of  black and gray hair two or three inches high. and for a minute I thought he was being attacked by thousands of huge  hairy spiders or was in the process of turning into a middle aged Jewish werewolf,. I was speechless for several moments but soon caught my breath and managed to politely continue on my duties and bid the customer a friendly good day.

Now as a fairly enlightened man from a gene pool full of hairy guys I think this episode brings to mind a question that must be answered. 

How hairy is too hairy to go outside shirtless???? At what point does freedom of expression give way to aesthetic concerns. Is ordinary middle aged hairiness sufficient to prevent going without shirt. or does one have to look like a salt and pepper  abomidable snowman to be forbidden to go shirtless.

 The importance of this question is oobvious and as all real men are hairy to a certain extent it is a question that must be answered. Normally I would always favor freedom of choice over any such concerns but people shouldn't  look like lint balls when others are trying to work.

i am not without sympathy for the hairy. Hey a guy wants to relaxe when he is home and sometimes going without a shirt. Many of the men in my family are hairy. They are so hairy that the Air Force had considered using some of them as antiaircraft weapons. They said all they had to do was build a big crane to roll one of them across a giant ballon and the static electricity would bring down ballistic missles. for miles. This guy made my relatives look like a hairless surfer male model and we need to do something about.  It takes a lot for a guy to be so ugly that he repels other guys by taking his shirt off but this guy found a way. Call the state legislature. Do something ....

I'm only 46 and today I wore my first official fashion deprived old man outfit
aarrrgghhhh.....
Let me explain...I had errands to run with my 73 year-old father and had already spent the morning moving the odd piece of furniture. I therefore put forth exhaustion and sleep deprivation which I battle constantly as an explanation of what followed.
My "tenishoes" (notice nobody actually says tennis shoes or athletic shoes) were nowhere to be found. so I grabbed a convenient pair of "other" shoes and convenient pair of pants and walked out the door. As I was getting in the car I noticed the shoes I had put on were an old pair of leather work/dress lace up loafers. They went well with the blue sweat pants and the black Adidas T-shirt I was wearing.
And then it hit me. Arrrrggggghhhh I am wearing an old man outfit I thought as I got in the black Kia we use for trips that do not involve carrying or ferrying cargo. You the outfit I speak of_ all those clothes your grandparents use to wear at the age  they stopped caring that knee high cowboy boots do not go with pastel day glow long johns and a denim NASCAR jacket with no shirt. That's an image from a long forgotten family reunion picnic on an east Texas lake, one I will not soon get out of my head.
 I looked at my father, who was born when there were no Interstates you could still take a train to LA, to comment on the fact I had worn my first old man outfit. When I saw that he was a wearing a faded blue polo and a pair of dark blue pants that hadn't fit since about 1974 I realized he was long past caring and already into the old man outfit.
I'm sure back in the day he drove his 55 Chevy hotrod around town drag racing fuel injected Cadillacs he never thought about wearing such things, or if he did they fit and were in style.
( Not that I care about such things you understand.)  I remember a similar experience a few years ago when people who knew me talked me into trimming my hair, which had grown to a second childhood, mid crisis shoulder length mop. The hairstylist giggled a bit as I told her how I wanted it cut and then a little more as she turned me around in the stylist chair to get a look at my hair.
"Nice mullet," someone just out of eyeshot said as I gazed at my new hair. "It's not a mullet," I started to say before realizing in horror that it actually was and sat back down in the chair with a sigh. Arrrgggh I said Charlie Brown style arrrggghhhh....