Smoke Ribs

Ribs are one of the finest foods known to man. They are kind of like vegetables, except that they are awesome, taste wonderful, and people like them. You can bake them, cook them in a crock pot, or if you really want something beautiful you can thrown them in the smoker and a few short hours later you are ready for a foodgasm. In fact this is the only real way to do ribs. I love ribs. What is to follow is a step by step explanation. This will be interesting to very few, but you should read it. It will help you be manly, and eat manly food.

Step 1. Prepare the ribs.
Ribs don't take too much work to get ready if you are buying them from the store. If you are buying a pig or catching a wild boar and cutting them out, well, it will take much more work. Chances are you will just buy them from the store as there aren't many wild boars here in the Cedar Valley.




Make sure that you pull of the membrane on the bone side of the ribs. That allows the maximum amount of smoky flavor to penetrate the meat. If you do it right, you can pull it off in one piece. Grab it with a paper towel or else it is almost impossible to keep a grip on it.



Step 2. Season the Ribs.
A rub, or seasoning blend, is applied to the ribs. Here is where you can use a "rub the meat" joke, but I obviously am above such potty humor (not true). The rub I use is from a recipe I bought from the operator of www.smoking-meat.com, Jeff Phillips. I would post it here, but like I said, Jeff sells it. I don't think you want to mess with a guy that knows that much about BBQ. That site, and the forum attached to it are amazing. It's like an encyclopedia of BBQ.



I also threw a few pounds of sausage on. Nothing fancy here, it's just one pound sausage rolls. They are delicious, and they are often referred to as "chubs". So before you throw them on the smoker, make sure you rub your sausage chub. (See) These chubs are awesome and should be made any time the smoker is lit. They take next to no time to get ready, and they are awesome for breakfast, lunch, supper, and snacks.


Step 3. Start Smoking
I don't have a real fancy smoker, but it works well. It requires that I spent hours standing around outside near a fire with a beverage in hand. Yeah, it's that awesome. This unit is a Chargriller Outlaw. The fire is all in the offset side fire box, and all the meat goes in the bigger chamber. This way you are cooking with the indirect heat, and getting the smoky flavor. Low and slow is the motto for BBQ. The low temperatures and long smoke times allow the tougher cuts of meat found in BBQ to break down.

See the holes on the firebox below? That is the temperature control for the entire unit. Close it and it gets cooler, open it all the way and the temp goes up. It's pretty straight forward, but it takes a few tries to get the hang of it. You want to keep the temp right around 225-250. Keep adding charcoal and wood as needed. You want to have a thin blue smoke coming out of the top of the smoker rather than a white billow cloud. I use hickory and cherry wood.
By the way, the fire box gets so hot that it evaporates the paint right off. I usually paint it a couple times a year, and it still looks like that. By "looks like that" I obviously mean "looks awesome."


Here are the ribs after about 2 hours. The sausage was done at this point so I took them off the smoker and started eating them. They were delicious.

Step 4. Control that Temp.
I get a little bit "Mad Scientist" when it comes to BBQ. I have 3 thermometers I use.The first 2 on the left are stationary digital thermometers. I stick the probes into the thickest part of whatever I am cooking to make sure I get it cooked to the right temp. Make sure you don't get too hot. It will dry out the meat if you cook it too long, and after that many hours it really sucks.

The other thermometer, the black one, is a remote digital thermometer. The probe coming off of the base is stuck through a potato so that the probe stays about an inch off of the grates. This is important because you want to measure the air temp, not the temp of the grates which will likely be much higher than the air temp. The remote thermometer I have will transmit about 100 feet. That means I can sit on the deck, I can play bags in the yard, and I can sit in my recliner and watch football all while monitoring my temp in the smoker. God Bless the USA.


Step 5. Wrap your Meat
After about 1.5-2 hours I wrap the ribs in aluminum foil. This helps to steam the meat, which tenderizes it, and helps it fall off the bone.

Step 6. Unwrap your meat
After the ribs have been foiled for about another hour, take them out of the foil. You will notice that the rub has carmalized and is almost saucy now. You will also notice that the meat is starting to pull away from the bone on the bottom of the pic. This is a good thing, a glorious thing. This means they are almost done. I give them about 45 more minute on the grill with the foil unwrapped, and then take them off and let them rest wrapped in the foil for about 30 minutes. This resting period is important to get the best final product, and also infuriating because the whole house smells delicious and you are trying to not eat. Very tempting indeed. I tell my friends they have to rest an hour, so that way when I unwrap them 30-45 minutes later they get to feel like they won. I don't think any of them can read, otherwise I wouldn't admit that on here.

Yeah, I can't get this pic to rotate.

Step 7. Eat
There are no pictures of this step because I got really distracted and forgot.

So there you go. Invest a few hours in a couple racks of ribs and enjoy! Actually, make sure your dad is around, and then eat.

... and I get this?

Our neighbors just got a dog named Harlow. Harlow is a beautiful yellow lab puppy that is sweet as can be. She's just a great dog. So my neighbors got this awesome puppy which happens to be the exact dog I have always wanted, and I got dog poo in my yard. And then on my shoe and lawnmower wheel.

Life is like that sometimes. Don't dwell on the fact that someone got what you wanted. Don't dwell on the negative impact it has on your life. Just be happy that you still have a lot of yard to mow, and by the time you get done your shoe shouldn't smell anymore.

Life isn't all roses. Sometimes it's dog poo on your shoe. So look next door and be happy for the family with the new pup, and be glad you weren't barefoot this time.

Don't Anger the Football Gods

Brett Favre is one of the greatest football players of all time, and certainly one of the best quarterbacks in the history of the league. All this despite the fact he can't even spell his last name correctly. He owns every major record and hasn't missed a game in twenty NFL seasons. That is amazing. He has had an amazing career.

This year he was undecided whether he would play or not, and his teammates decided to send an envoy down to his farm to get him to come back for one more year. It worked, and Brett Favre is a Minnesota Viking once more. Isn't that heartwarming?

The good news is that Brett Favre will not have his top two receivers. One broke his leg, one has chronic migraines, and the Vikings are now scrambling to bring in a whole crew of also-rans. I am very happy about this. I am typing away with a joyful heart. I am not happy that these men are injured, that is too bad, but I am happy they are not playing. Well... maybe I am a little happy about it.

Favre is one of the few players that is so great that you have to admire him even when he is playing against your favorite team. Being a Bears fan, he has ruined countless Sundays for me. But now Favre will get to enjoy playing with about half the talent around him and an ankle that doesn't allow him to move around like he used to. I am pretty sure it's all the waffling back and forth about retiring that has brought down the football gods wrath. I can't wait to see Old Man Wrangler get beat around the field this year.

So screw you Brett Favre, and screw you Minnesota Vikings. Screw the Packers too while we are at it.
Remember son, sports hatred is not only acceptable, it's expected.

Gabe and the Magic Bean Stalk

I went to Gabe's house the other and heard some very bad news. He recently sold his farm, which I knew, but I am starting to believe that he sold it for a magic beanstalk seed. Holy wow this thing is big. We measured it and it came in at just over 14 feet tall. The crazy thing is that it grew that tall in one summer.

I just hope Gabe is ready to fight a giant. You can never be too sure.

Crib Post v 3.0

The Crib is done, in place, and decorated. It took a summer of weekends down in Hampton with my dear old Dad, a few hundred hours of sanding, and about all the patience I possess but we got three beautiful pieces of furniture out of the deal. So without further adieu... because there has plenty of adieu already....

Here's a hippo with a Cub's Hat.


There is stuff like that everywhere in the house. I think this kid has about 20 stuffed animals around, and at least that many blankets. Unfortunately this has led to stuffed animal on stuffed animal crime.



All this simulated animal angst has poor Jade on edge.



The first piece that Dad and I got done was the changing table. I made it so that it's basically just a bookcaseykindathing. Ash gets to use her little basket things, we can keep all the kid's books together, and even have a spot to try to avoid getting hosed with baby pee. From what I hear that takes great agility, and blessings from the Lord himself. I am not really ready to get peed on... or poop everywhere.





The next thing we made was the dresser. This thing is beefy. It is all that you can do with two guys to move this thing around, and that is when the drawers are out. Let's just say that Dad and I didn't screw around when we built this stuff. It's built to last... for about a hundred years or so. Maybe a nuclear war as well.



What's that you say? Why yes! Yes, those are inset raised panel doors with ball bearing easy glide self closing slides attached to dovetail jointed drawers! Why yes Sir, those are most commonly only seen with high end cabinetry. (www.classiccustomwood.com) Good for you for being so observant! Inset doors are a bit more work that regular doors, but I do think they look really nice.

So there are the first two pieces that we built this summer. They have been done since around June, and Ash has them full. It's crazy that a dresser that big can be filled up with clothes that small. The closet is absolutely hilarious now that the racks hold little dude clothes instead of his moms.

Ashley has had a ton of fun decorating the room. One thing she loves is hanging new shelves and pictures.
Oh, I am sorry. Did I make it seem like she likes to hang them herself?
You know how I have requested that you don't poo during Bear's games? Well, any time your mom is in the wall decoration area of a store, or inside a Pottery Barn store at all, by all means BOMBS AWAY! Do what you can do save me from hanging stuff. I hate hanging wall stuff. Especially shelves. I hate shelves with a passion. I would go sand and drywall all day to get out of hanging one shelf.

And finally, the crib. So with one final thanks to dad, here we go.

We built this crib with a solid base, so the crib skirt wouldn't work like normal. So once it was assembled we cut the middle part of the crib skirt out, I got in, and we used a screen spline to hold the thing in place. Ashley looked like she wanted to puke as I started cutting, and my mom went outside so she couldn't be blamed. Coward! It took a lot of tugging here, pulling there, and a few swear words but it all worked out. The best part is that I am no longer trapped inside of the crib.
I was so excited to get out of there.



So here it is decorated and ready to go. Except that I recently found out that you can't have a bumper, blankets, or toys in the crib. Apparently everything we had when I was a kid will KILL YOU now. So all this stuff is just decoration, kind of like the 13 pillows I have to throw off the couch to sit down.





So that's it. The crib is here. In a little over a month we will have a little dude to put in it. We can't wait.

Art

I don't really know much about art, but according to a recent poll of my brother and I this is an amazing piece of art. It's not every day you see Chewbacca riding a squirrel fighting Nazis.

The Big Decisions in Life

Some days you wake up realizing that you have life by the balls and go out and achieve. You just make things happen. You just wake up pissing excellence. (I don't know if if that has ever really happened, but I love the phrase. Pissing Excellence sounds awesome. I bet it smells like asparagus. By the way, both coffee and asparagus will make your pee smell different, but asparagus is like a beautiful butterfly. Enjoy it now because it doesn't last long.) These are the days that are awesome to be alive.

Some days don't start like that. These are the days when the big decisions are arduous and trying. When a decision that can alter life must be made. These truly, my little friend, are the times that try men's souls.

One day as I stood in front of the mirror getting ready I realized that my hairline was making a hasty retreat from my eyebrows. I don't know what my lower head had done to scare my hair, but holy bejebus I think it moved an inch over night. I also realized that the front was thinner than it used to be. Not so much, "I lost 5 pounds with a fad diet", thinner, but rather, "I had lapband surgery and moved into a sauna" thinner.

To make matters worse, I now had hair growing out of my nose, not growing out of my scalp, and I still can't grow decent facial hair. My facial hair is to the Caribbean Islands what a normal mans facial hair is to South America. I have random dots with no order instead of a nice solid mass with a discernible shape. It's awful, and to make it worse, it grows fast enough I have to shave every day. The only way I am ever going to have a good mustache is to draw one on, or glue a prosthetic mustache to my face. I hate hair at this point.

So, herein lies the decision. Do I accept male pattern baldness and give up to mother nature? Do I fight back and use Rogaine? Man, life was so much cooler before I was fat, balding, and just a facial hair failure. This is one of those decisions that you can't win for losing. I am going to let it go. It just doesn't seem manly to worry about hair that much. Maybe I can just become a black man and look cool with a shaved head instead of looking like a white supremest. Maybe I will go with the Hulk Hogan look and just grow the sides super long and wear a bandanna.
Yeah, that should work out real nice.


Trying to figure out what kind of food to have at your fantasy football draft is another really big decision. First I thought about making a couple racks of ribs and having potato chips around. Then I realized that I would still have at least another 50 cubic inches of surface area in the smoker unused. That sounds awful. Imagine how much more meat that could cook.

So then I saw these little chicken thighs wrapped in bacon, and thought I had better try those too. Chicken usually isn't that manly, but I figure chicken thighs are kind of like chicken wings, and anything wrapped in bacon and smoked for a few hours has to be awesome. Especially if it's pork wrapped in bacon, but that is a whole separate subject. I think I decided since there are only 3-4 of us drafting here I will just do 2 racks of ribs, a bunch of the bacon wrapped chicken, and a couple pounds of sausage. And maybe some bacon wrapped jalepenos. I love the draft, and I love that smoker.

The manly food is far from the only Fantasy Football Decision I have to make this week. I obviously have to draft all my players and this year I have to win it all. I haven't won for two years. I also am playing in honor of a friend of mine, Aaron DeYoung. He posted this picture on-line. I named my team Bubble Time with Aaron. This should be a handy reference piece on whether or not you should post something on-line. Remember, once it's out there, you never know where else it might pop up.


Big decisions don't come easy. Try to err on the side side of being manly, pissing excellence, not posting bubble bath pics online, and using the entire cooking area in your smoker and you should be fine.

Who Are You People?

I started this blog as something to do when my wife went to bed early and I was bored. Since then it has become a bit of a hobby for me. I really enjoy it, and it cracks me up when a friend or family member references something I posted on here in conversation. I always love to find out who is reading this.

So this is my question. Who are you people? I am getting about 20 visits a day on here, and I have no idea who is looking at this. I checked sitemeter to see where the hits are coming from, and I have people reading this from California, Florida, California, Massachusetts, Illinois, and of course Iowa. There are also people in Australia, Sri Lanka, Brazil, Germany, Bulgaria, and so on.

This blog is not that good, and I have no idea where you people are finding it! I am flattered as hell, and I am glad you are reading. I can't tell you how cool it is to think that a group of people enjoy this as much as I do. Please, if you have a minute, let me know who you are. Either click the followers tab in the upper right, or email me at beau_jorgensen@hotmail.com. If you prefer to remain annonomous feel free, but I would love to hear from you.

Thank you again for reading. It's come a long way from thinking I could post my social security number and banking passwords on here. I am flattered that you are spending the time to read my poorly written brain farts. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!

The Little Things in Life

There are many important things in life to appreciate. Getting married to a beautiful woman, finding out you are going to be a dad, spending time with your family, and your first Weber grill. There are far more little things along the way that are less special, but awesome none the less.

Fantasy Football Mock Drafts- "Proper planning prevents piss poor performance," my dad always told me. I think he had bigger things in mind, but there is a science to crafting the right Fantasy Football team and mock drafts are a big part of it.

Good weather- Living in Iowa means that when it's not flooding and 103 degrees, it's often snowing. Occasionally we get weather more conducive to hammocks and deck beers. This is when life is good.

Calling your friends assholes because they don't appreciate Wrigley Field- Yes, Chris and Jordan, I am talking about you. And yes, I mean it. Wrigley is a mecca of baseball. Wrigley is a beautiful field that actually embraces the game, and the baseball experience. We don't need jumbotrons and announcers circling people with signs that make them look like idiots. We need a great field, a great time, and a few Old Styles. So keep your "Circle me Bert" and "Mannywood" crap, and I will celebrate the Ivy with fans that show up before the game starts and cheer before the 7th inning.

Peeing outside- It's a right of being a man. It feels good. It's natural. I just did it.

Sports hatred- Hate is a strong word. Sports hatred lets you get the sweet release of hating others, without the downside of social outcastedness (spell check be damned.) You shouldn't hate others, unless they are fans of other teams. In that case hate with a joyful heart. This list is a handy reference of the types of people that root for the following teams, and why you might hate them.

Chicago White Sox- Drug Dealers and Hookers
Minnesota Vikings- Idiots with horns
St. Louis Cardinals- People who find their cousins attractive
NY Yankees- Bandwagoners and assholes
Oakland Raiders- Meth addicts and fetish types
Dallas Cowboys- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9KDuKAT5Apg&feature=player_embedded


Extension cords- Laptop telling you it's time to go to bed because your laptop is almost dead? HAHAH! I have an extension cord and nice weather. Beau 1, World 0.

Freezable Glasses- I unplugged my garage fridge to use my chop saw the other night. My beverages were warm. Poured into a frozen mug? Drinkable. God Bless technology.

Dancing

There is a country song that says,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance

It's a LeAnn Womack song. It's pretty, and it has a really nice message. She's an attractive young lady who made crazy money off that song. The moral of the story?

DON'T LISTEN TO HER! For the love of God please know that she is not talking to you! Yes, I hope you dance while you are young. It's cute. We will all laugh and tell you that you look great. By the time you are 14 and thereafter however, please know that you look stupid. How do I know that when you aren't even born yet? Well son, you have half my DNA. Even if your mom was a dancer for Britney Spears back when Britney was still hot, my DNA would crush your chances of being a good dancer a thousand times over. My dancing DNA is strong like Vikings fans are idiots. It's a fact of life and an act of nature which no one can change.

It's not your fault, it's not even all my fault. Look at the history of dance if you must. The last time that white people were good at dancing was during the 50's. Why is that? There were rules to dancing then. There was a preordained set of moves to follow. I learned a few of those dances in high school (yes, I was in a musical... Ummm.. yeah it was Grease. Don't judge me.) and I could do those. I even performed reasonably well at them.

It's when left to our own beat and discretion that we get into trouble. Will you listen to this advice? No. There will be young women that will want you to dance, and no fatherly advice will overwhelm certain instincts. Will you end up looking like and epileptic with bad joints as a result? Certainly you will. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

So when you get a choice, to sit it out or dance... RUN! If you can't run, do the Robot and hope people think it's funny. It's your only hope.

Crib Post 3.0... postponed

Mom and Dad came up Sunday and delivered the crib! It's finally done! I can't wait to post pictures!

Unfortunately we will all have to wait. My wife has decided there will be no pics of the baby room until it is ready... in her mind. At this point I would like to be manly and tell her that I will do whatever I damn well please, but alas, she has crazy pregnant lady strength and I do not want to cross her.

So Mom and Dad delivered the crib, we assembled it, the In-Laws came over to view, and we had a nice supper. Everything looks great and I will post pics soon. As soon as I can at least.

Until then...

The End of Summer

In the world according to teachers, the summer is coming to an end. No more coming home for lunch with your mother as she is back to work. No more hanging out watching episodes of True Blood back to back and back to the routine. For those not married to an educator and those with no kids the summer still goes on a few more weeks, but not us.

This is a sad time when your mom goes back to work, but it does mean a few good things are coming. After all, the best part of the Cubs season is coming up, football season. Stupid Cubs...

1. The new Madden is out. Yes, I am almost 30 and I know the release date. Yes, I did buy Madden the day it came out. Yes, my franchise is coming along nicely. The Bears defense is fast, and the Mike Martz offense is a blast to run on the new game. Should I be ready to launch into a full Madden analysis at this point in my life? Probably not, but I figure these are my final weeks of being selfish with my time because...

2. You are almost ready to join us. If you come on your due date we only have about six weeks until you are ready to hang out. FINALLY. I think it's been a long time and I don't even have your feet kicking me in the ribs. (I have your mother's elbows for that.) I can't wait to meet you. I am very excited that you will be potty trained within a few weeks of birth... Right? Isn't that how it goes? I don't really know much about this whole fatherhood thing, but I figure that it has only taken me about a week to figure out how to run Martz's offense in the new Madden, so I should catch on quickly. It took Kurt Warner years to master that offense, and I am averaging like 42 points a game after only a week.

3. Fantasy Football. I love fantasy football. For years I renounced it as dorky. Now, I know that it is dorky and I don't care. It's a great way to keep in touch with old friends and prove my dominance. Yes, I do have the highest average finish over the five year history of the league. Thanks for asking.

4. The Fantasy Football Draft. I love the draft. We all get on line and talk smack over beverages, eat manly food, and have a great time. Then we all sit around and analyze everyone's team. It's at this point that everyone decides that I have a very average team, Fid thinks his is great, and Pete proves he has no idea what the hell he is doing. Then we all await Dallas's post draft preseason predictions. Dallas runs a huge set of self designed logarithms to predict where everyone will finish. He's a huge dork, and is usually way off. It's all part of the fun.

5. The NFL Season. I love football. I love sitting in my basement in front of the big screen all day. We switch which church service we go to just so I won't have to miss pregame. I might have to switch my lineup due to injury after all. I try to avoid watching preseason games just so the opening weekend is that much better. I think the Bears will be vastly improved. I am a huge optimist. This year your uncle Jordan and I plan on getting you and Charly together to teach you the finer points of the 4-3 Cover 2 defense and other important things. Football is awesome.

Summers on it's way out, fall is coming in. Soon days in the hammock will be replaced with nights by the fire pit. Grilling season will be replaced with grilling season... I grill all year. Charcoal. I wonder how old you have to be to eat pulled pork? Three weeks?

Crib Post 2.0

Another beautiful weekend at my summer home in the Hamptons (Mom and Dad's house in Hampton IA) and more progress on the crib. The last two weekends were spent on finishing up the actual construction. This week was the assembly and final preparation. Let's get right to it shall we? Again, what follows is long and likely boring. Again, there are no final pictures.... but we are getting really close. Can't you just feel the anticipation?

First we did a dry fit, just to make sure that everything fit perfect. A dry fit is just putting everything together without the glue. It was close, but I had a bit of sanding where the side rail came over the post. Once everything was all good we took it apart. Then, of course, was one more round of final sanding.

Sanding is infuriating. It's like dating but without the fun parts. You start with the drum sander, and it's good, but not good enough (You will repeat this part of dating repeatedly). Then you try the random orbital sander with 120 grit (Exclusive dating). It looks great, but something isn't right. So you move on to 180, but then there is a spot that isn't right so you have to put some wood putty on it to fix it up. (That is like "time apart"). Eventually you realize you had a good thing and will do what you have to do to make it work. So you sand it again. Everything looks great until you put it in perspective of a final project (marriage). Eventually you have to accept that it's going to take more work and more attention and grab a piece of sandpaper and work at it (Probably mid 20's and only after repeating the prior steps repeatedly). And that my friends is love. When you realize that the only way to get the final product is to put everything else aside and really work at it.

This is by far my weirdest and dumbest metaphor yet. A real failure, but look at all those words! I can't delete this now. I have too much time in it!

Just to bring this back in, here's another angle of the dry fit.






OK, back on point. Once everything was sanded to marriage levels we glued everything up into the four pieces. Next up was the dye. The first pic is of the mixing process. One part dye, fourteen parts lacquer thinner. I asked dad, "Why do you use laquer thinner?" He explained it to me, but all I got out of it was that it was a good way to do it. I know it works, and I don't know a better way to do it, so I shut up.



The next few pics just show dad applying the dye. It's like staining wood, but better. It sprays on, gets a better final product, and dries alot faster. It's crazy watching Dad do this.
1. Dude has crazy shaky hands when drinking coffee until his hand grabs the sprayer. At that point it's like watching Rainman count cards. It's automatic. It's smooth. He would have been great at graffiti.
2. The dye by itself looks awful. Dad warned me about this. It's an ugly purple color that has a weird matte finish.
3. One you blow finish, lacquer of some kind, onto the wood it looks great. (By the way, there is no metaphor there, pervert.)

We did four coats of dye to match the other furniture we made. Then we started blowing finish. The next two pics show the diffarance between the dyed wood, and the dyed wood with finish on it.





Why is it that Dad is doing the finishing on my project? Well, having him available to do that process and doing it yourself is like having Warren Buffet offer to manage your investments and firing up the E*Trade account. It would just be stupid.


That's it for tonight. Sunday Mom and Dad are going to deliver it. By then we will even have the base and the mattress in it. It's turning out awesome, just as the time spent with my folks has been. There are a few final touches yet to come. Check back soon.

Nothing is Guaranteed

One of the most heralded pitching prospects of all time was Mark Prior. He was drafted by none other than the Chicago Cubs. Paired with Kerry Wood and to an extent Carlos Zambrano it looked like the Cubs were set to have a staff like the Atlanta Braves during the 1990's (Lead by Greg Maddux- Greatest Pitcher of the Modern Era, John Smoltz, and Tom Glavine.)

Baseball, and life in general, gives hope and takes hope away. For a time in 2003 in looked like the curse was on it's way out. One fan interference and a few blown plays later the season was over. Unfortunately, so were Mark Prior and Kerry Wood. These weren't just great prospects

for my favorite team, they were can't miss once in a lifetime franchise saviors for the most down and out franchise of all time. A few arm surgeries and failed comebacks later, Prior is out of the league and Kerry is a journeyman.

I miss them both, and I admire them both. Kerry Wood came back to close games for the Cubs, and then as a reliever for other teams. He has had a respectable career and even has a shot at a ring as a member of the Yankees. It makes me shudder to think I might root for the Yankees at some point just because of him.

Prior's career has not gone as well. After leading the league in simulated innings and towel tosses (pitching rehab) he was traded to the Padres. He didn't do much there either. Years later he is now pitching in an independent league (Read: Last Resort) trying to get one more shot at the big show. I don't feel bad for him. He got to live a dream most of us would kill for. He made mad cash doing so. He got to experience the thrill of pitching in the postseason, and having the best fans in the world adore him.

I do admire him however. He's been at the the highest of highs. He's been close to the lowest of lows. He still has a dream, and he's still fighting like hell to get back. I don't know if he ever will get back, and almost certainly will never be what he was. I wish him well. He never gave his dream away for drugs and alcohol or anything stupid. He just ran into some bad luck with injuries. He has such a pretty delivery and he inspired so much hope. Good Luck Mark.

Kerry Wood used to be the nastiest pitcher alive. Watch the video on this link. It still gives me goosebumps thinking about what was, and what might have been.

http://chicago.cubs.mlb.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20080505&content_id=2645741&vkey=news_chc&fext=.jsp&c_id=chc

Even though it seemed at one point that both were guaranteed to have Hall of Fame careers, neither has. Keep that in mind. You will likely not be a "can't miss prospect" in anything, and even if you are it might not happen. That doesn't mean you can't dream however.

America Baby

Tonight we went to the grocery store and there in the meat counter was a glorious chunk of beef, on sale no less, begging for me to take it home. That my son, is a 25 ounce T-Bone Steak. A manly cut of meat, a glorious cut of meat. Was it delicious? Damn right it was. Cooked medium rare and big enough to enduce a food coma. The hot dogs were for your mom, who strangely enough does not like steak. Weird isn't it.


This is why living in Iowa doesn't always suck. Sure it was 95 degrees today, and will be -10 within a couple of months, but we do make good food. A big ass Iowa Steak, some Iowa sweet corn, a few ice cold beers, and even a couple of garden fresh tomatoes. Life doesn't get much better. By the way, the bread with entirely too much butter is actually just a butter delivery device for the corn. You rub the bread on the corn thereby delivering just enough butter, and not wasting too much.

I destroyed this meal. Thank God you were born in the land of plenty. God Bless the USA.

Funerals are Mandatory, Weddings are Optional

You know how I said that celebrities are people that you should look to the good in, and ignore the rest? Mr. Giuliani is one of them. He's a great man, a great leader, and a truly insperational figure in my book. He isn't perfect, but he had a calling and he fulfilled it.

I read his book, Leadership, and this was one of the messages that I took from it. Giuliani lead NYC through the 9/11 attacks. It scares me that you will have to Google that. Ash teaches kids now that don't know what that was about. You will. I will make you. It's that important.

When Giuliani was talking in his book about weddings being optional, but funerals mandatory, he was speaking to the character of a man. Anyone can be there when times are good. A man, a good man, is there when things are rough. I hate funerals. I don't think I have ever been to one that I didn't cry at. I will never skip a funeral, but I will skip a wedding. Even though weddings have kegs and kids dancing.

When I was a kid, maybe 10 years old, my family went to my neighbor, Mrs. Schwartz's, funeral. I will never forget my dad pulling me aside afterwords. He told me not to cry for those who were gone, God had them. We needed to take care of those still here. It was one of those moments between a father and son that meant more than he will ever know. And now I am basterdizing in the hopes of teaching you a lesson.

You should be there for the good times, and enjoy them. You are responsible to be there when people need you. That is the measure of a man. It isn't always easy, it's rarely ever fun, but it is what is right.