S-Mart NO MORE! Serenity NOW!

(Apologies for gratuitous use of Mal's ship's name.)

Hallelujah! Friday evening (Saturday morning, in S-mart time) I discussed with the mrs., and we decided tat S-Mart had to go. you see, 85 hours a week is too much for this fat old 'smith, and projects were being back-burnered that did not need to be.

I DID have a blast building bikes, but when I kept working myself out of work, I would get assigned to "big Goonie" type stuff- like "move these heavy things here" or "just toss those 6 pallets of pet food there."

The final straw was when I called in Friday, unable to see straight and drive safely, after spending a lovely, albeit long (for me) day with the Mrs. on her birthday. 2 hours or so of sleep (Eli needed playtime!) The call ended something like this:

"...well, just make sure you come in the next 2 nights, we need you in meat."

What I HEARD was:
"Make sure to come in, be unappreciated, hurt your back & freeze your ass of for 5 hours, go home, sleep for 2 hours, drive an hour to the shop, work there for 8-10 hours, drive back an hour, sleep for 2, then come in so you can freeze your ass off for another 5 hours (all while lifting 40 lb boxes of frozen dead things over your head) so that you can then go home, sleep for 2 hours, shower, drive 40 minutes to church and sit on a plastic chair for 2 hours. You will then have permission to spend the afternoon with your family, for family day."

So, Friday night/Saturday morning went like this:
11 PM- shower & change
11:20 Got to Wal-, er, I meant- S-Mart, park, and smoke a cigar
11:45, go in & harrass the awesome woodworker buddy of mine, Todd, who works there and
11:59 go turn in my ID & discount card, with my box cutter, and tell them all how much fun it was.

I did a quick drive-by and said some goodbyes to some of the hardworkers that are there, solely because of being economically screwed (one fella has 7 kids and lost a business that was pulling in $400k a year!)

Ain't gonna miss it at all. After 3 night of solid rest now, and lots of play-time with the boy, I know it was the right thing. We don't need the discounts that badly, and I don't need any more of their stock right now. 1/2 the fun was seeing what ammo came in, and being able to tell customers to come get it before it hit the shelves (but to not bogart it.)

Sadly, my one Hmong friend there (or was he Karen, I don't know) I did not get to see- but he probably won't notice I'm gone anyway. All us white folks look alike to him, I'm sure.

So, Frak it. I quit. No notice. The 3 of us went fishing, and the new guy had a GREAT time.

Besides, It's almost time to fire up the new vinyl cutter...

Eff. Cee. You. K. It all to heck.

As a kid in 1977, Star Wars (before A New Hope) was the greatest thing ever invented.
A lightsaber stashed in the Christmas tree is one of my favorite childhood memories (prolly Christmas 1978.) The frosted white plastic blade on the fugly orange Everready flashlight, with a simple black circular handguard, made my year. Screen accurate? Nope. But I think it topped anythign I got for my entire childhood.

Being a recovering SW nerd, (as I imagine it was with many boys of my generation,) it would have been ideal to grow up and become a Jedi Knight.

In the really real world, though, nobody gets to carry a sword, and if they do, they certainly won't get any respect. Without cool-assed Force abilities, there was not much point in even fantasizing about it. The closest an American kid could hope to get is to grow up to be all snarky, cool, and good with a blaster like Han Solo.

If you look at my previous post, you see a picture of me, holding my kid, desperately needing a haircut.

As I jammed out to the 80's tunes on the radio the other morning, about 3:30 ish, wrenching away on a bike, thinking about my Boy, I had a grin cross my face. All the fun we were having playing, about how proud I am as a poppa, and about all the silly nicknames I call him.

Like Lumpy.

Lumpy. Hmmm. Wasn't that Chewie's kid's name? Lumpawaroo, or some damn stupid Holiday Special thing like that?

Then I got distracted by busting my knuckles. And let out a bit of a holler.
Like a Wookie.

It hit me.

I will NEVER be Luke Skywalker.
I will never be Han Solo.
Because I am f^&*ing Chewbaccca.


(Presumed Copyright Lucasfilm Limited.)

No wonder I feel like pulling people's arms off, on most days. Damn.
I can't wait until S-Mart is behind me. Clock is ticking, my time is short there, and I have about all the stock I want in that place now (literally, purchased at an employee discount of 15%.)

As a side note, those big flat panels that play REALLY annoying commercials non-stop at S-mart? You can turn them off. All it takes is a TV-B-Gone. Ask me how I know.
(I'm sure they are still trying to find the remote for the breakroom monitor.)

Now I can't wait to shop at OTHER "S-MArt" locations on my days off.
Plus, I will never have to watch NASCAR again while we are out to eat.

(Insert Wookie laugh here.)

I have to ship off my bowcaster, er, I mean Saiga-12 Wednesday for a super-secret project. I'm kinda bummed, but at least I know it will be in good hands.

If you can read this, I must be sleeping...

Seeing as how job A ends at 7 PM and job C starts at 12AM, and I have to eat, sleep and shower in between, minus 30 minutes for driving, there is obviously no way this is posted in real time. Frak, I'm tired.

Just HAD to check in, though, as something I love, it turns out, is not quite as dead as I thought it was.

The Boys Are Back is how this was presented to me-




(Credit to http://dave.uktv.co.uk)

Still, I'm bummed that Battlestar Galactica (Praise Be Its Name) is airing the final 2 hour episode of the series tonight, and I will be snoozing through it. Double Frak.

There goes the best show on TV since FireFly; and with it goes one of the best casts ever assembled. And frigging Dr. Who is only run as specials this year. TRIPLE FRAK.

At least I get to watch Cap'n Mal in Castle, and the show is actually fun. Be better if they ditched his Mom as a character though. That actress always bugs the crap out of me- she's a female Kevin Costner (not to be mean, but she is typecast. Same character, different name, every show.)

The only thing stronger than FRA I can use to express my disappointment at working through Glenn Beck's Ramos & Compean interview today is FELGERCARB. How's that date me as a geek?

Not that it matters, since I'm on "the LIST," and when Missouri State Patrol builds their Terminator drones, I'm a goner. Do YOU qualify for THE LIST?
Shazbat.

I was glad to hear that apparently we have our first SpEd President now- something about him bowling in the Special Olympics or whatever.

Still doesn't explain that damn wife of his though- I still hear "Sex Machine" whenever I see her lumber onto my telescreen( grrr....fire BAD!) "y-HA! Get onah UpHA! Geton UP!"

S-MArt Saves Lives

Well, me GOING to S-MArt saves lives.
I was REALLY tired one night last week. Had no interest at all in going in to deal with the nonsense. but had already pushed my limits on what management would likely tolerate out of me for the week (being a reliable worker, etc.) so I decided to go anyhow, even though it likely meant "projects."
( I was sent home 10 min. into it for overstaffing & my willingness to leave, anyway.)

As I am backing out of the drive, I notice that the neighbors deck smells funny, mostly because 3 foot flames are dancing on it. My best guess is that a smoke or a spliff got lodged between the deck and some leaves and the stone facade on the house.

I ran up and banged on the door- when a very sleepy twentysomething answered, all I could do is grin and ask "Dude- got a bucket?" and point at the fire.
The resltant "HOLY SH&T!" was worth the stop alone. While he ran for water, I kicked some snow onto the flames; 3 minutes later, all that was left was aromatic steam and I was back on my way to S-Mart.