Mike Wheeler vs The World

Ever since my post about Occam's Razor, people have been commenting about how they loved seeing Mike Wheeler in a post.  What surprised me most was the fact that everyone seemed to actually know him.  Wheeler once said that he knew everybody, but I just thought he was trying to impress the folks at Waffle House so I dismissed it.

Then I started to see the truth one day when we went to lunch:

And started taking note of all the subtle hints around me:

But it couldn't be true, could it?  I still had my doubts:

But he was everywhere I looked.  Seriously, how in the hell was he doing all of this?

I decided to put it to the ultimate test:  I would take him to Rome to meet the Pope.  If Wheeler was known all the way over in Vatican City, I would truly be convinced...maybe.

Once we arrived, there was a swarm of people and I lost Wheeler in the crowd almost immediately.  I searched everywhere, but I could not find him at all.  Suddenly, out walks the  Pope and guess who is with him:

Unbelievable!  How in the world can this possibly be happening?  At that moment, I started thinking of the cunning prankster that is Mike Wheeler, and I realized this was some elaborate hoax on my behalf.  There was no way everyone actually knew Mike Wheeler.

Until someone in front of me made the following comment:

My friend Jerry says, "Chris likes to spin a yarn."  M says that I like to embellish when I tell stories.  I still have no idea what they are talking about...

-Cheers!

Playtime is over...and some winners

Greetings!  As the title of this post hints, yes, playtime is officially over for me.  I have returned back to work full time and my travel schedule is back to "vagabond status".  "Playtime" may be a bad choice of terms because I would not actually consider my time off as "play".  I did enjoy working from home and spending more time with M and the kids, but considering the circumstances, we were all a little challenged and stressed throughout the entire ordeal.

As I mentioned, my travel schedule has once again kicked into high gear.  Most recently, I have been to St. Louis, Bloomington (Illinois) and New York City all within a span of about 10 days.  With a new (metallic) implant, I have been preparing for this:  allowing more time to get through security, the beeping of the metal detectors, the flashing of my implant card to show TSA that they can't keep telling me to "just go through again", and of course, the inevitable pat down search.

In addition to preparing, I was also strategically planning my security lines at the MSP and STL airports (trip #1).  There are certain checkpoints that use the newer body scanners over the old school metal detectors.  These machines scan the exterior of your body only, making life for people like me a little easier.  Unfortunately, this process also takes longer and it seems that the 15 people going through before me need to be told what to expect and then make sure they are comfortable with what the TSA is going to see on their screens post-scan:

Some people disagree with this new method.  They will complain that it invades their privacy or is too revealing or whatever.  Me?  I don't care.  Maybe my modesty isn't up to par with some of the larger prudes out there, but I have no problem going through something like this at an airport.  In fact, I would proudly walk through the airport naked if it meant that we were all reassured that some deranged fanatic wasn't trying to use an airplane as a terrorist weapon and killing hundreds of people in the process.  Sorry gang, we live in a time where people just can't be trusted...not even you.  So everyone either needs to learn to accept the circumstances of history's actions or grow a pair of wings and learn to fly (sorry, ranting...I'm back now).

My second trip went a little smoother, but it was unexpected and a little concerning.  I was not as much of a planner with my trip to Illinois so I ended up going through a checkpoint that didn't offer the full body scan.  When I made it up to the front of the line, I had my implant card ready and I went through the metal detector.  Strangest thing was that once I went through, nothing else happened - no beeps, no flashing lights, no TSA minions in riot gear asking me to step out of line, nothing! 

To say I was surprised is an understatement:

I thought the machine was broken or something.  I knew coming back, it could be a different story, but again, I went through the detectors without even a blip.  I then thought to myself that the whole process is a scam and that the TSA had us all convinced they were providing us a crucial service like seat fillers at the Oscars or dinosaur insurance or an extended warranty.  Those thoughts were quickly thwarted when my traveling companion went through and her necklace forced her to remove all her jewelry and go through again.  I felt a little better about the situation, but I still wondered how metal jewelry is bad, but a metal implant hidden inside the body is okie dokie (to be fair, this necklace appeared to be made of ball bearings).

The most interesting of all trips was the one to New York City.  At this point, I was no longer confused, but confident that I had this all figured out.  THAT is when the stupid f#$%ing metal detector caught me.  So without much delay, I was ushered to the back of the security area where I met a pleasant gentleman by the name of Gary who introduced himself to me (I guess it's a courtesy since we're about to become pretty "close" friends) and told me to turn and face the wall. 

The pat down lasted no more than a few minutes, but when I was done, I felt like Bruce Willis from Blind Date:

And of course, flying out of LaGuardia airport, I received the same "personal" level of attention on my way home.  Fortunately, I was able to upgrade to First Class on both the trip there and the trip home so I was helping myself to the complimentary, alcoholic beverages offered .

Overall I'd say I learned a lot during the past few trips.  I can't say that I am any closer to cracking the code that is TSA security, but I can at least now say that I have experienced new situations and met some interesting (and VERY friendly) people along the way.

Moving on, I wanted to share with all of you the winners of the Make Fun of Chris contest.  The entries were in high quantities and strategically hilarious (most anyway).  But with every contest, you need to have winners, so congrats go to both Jerry and Greg for their winning entries:

Jerry:  Just because you got your Iron Man starter kit doesn't mean you are that cool ya know.
Greg:  Six million dollars doesn't go as far as it used to. He only gets one "na" when jumping.

The selection process was a difficult task for our judges, but in the end, they came to a consensus of who truly deserved the honor of successfully making fun of me:

Due to public demand, a small, private awards ceremony was already held in an undisclosed location where both winners took home some fabulous prizes:

***Note:  Both gifts were immediately thrown away following the taking of this picture.  I guess they didn't see the humor in my response to people openly making fun of me.  I guess I'll just buy them lunch at Dickie's instead.

-Cheers!

Uncle Buckey's Lethargy Bars

In a world full of energy drinks and power bars, flavored gourmet coffee of all shapes and sizes, and the common fast paced life that would even make an over achieving humming bird scream "SLOW THE @#$% DOWN!", I can't help but wonder how we ever mange to not only find time to sleep, but bring our bodies down to a "jitter level" low enough to even let it happen (run on sentence, I know...I don't care). 

Now don't get me wrong, I can slam an energy drink faster than anyone, which is usually followed by my morning Clif Bar, and that typically makes way for my 9am coffee run downstairs with Wheeler.  The rest of the day is spent drinking Guy Diet and sucking on coffee beans or chewing on a ginseng root (not really...maybe).  Our jobs require us to "do more with less", technology insists we always stay connected and all of our personal hamster wheels have been greased well enough to handle a total workout in less than 37 seconds a day.  We have trained our bodies to be in constant overdrive mode and that kind of mentality is hard to break.  For 18+ plus hours a day, we tell our bodies "no you can't slow down" when we need to be saying "you probably should".

Folks, I have the answer!  Introducing Uncle Buckey's Lethargy Bars:

 That's right, Uncle Buckey's Lethargy Bars are not only designed to help your body relax, but they are guaranteed to, at minimum, put you to sleep or your money back (results may vary).  Most "other bars" out there try to lure you in with "endorphin triggers" such as fruits, nuts and dark chocolate.  But what they don't tell you is while your endorphin levels may rise to help you relax, these ingredients also hit you with a shot of energy, protein and caffeine.  This confuses your body into slowing down and speeding at the same time.  And that my friends is sometimes referred to as a "speedball", which is what killed John Belushi (Legal Note:  Belushi's speedball was a combo of cocaine and heroin and in no way an actual dietary supplement implied in this advertisement).

Uncle Buckey's Lethargy Bars uses a combination of today's most popular sedatives, muscle relaxants and pain relievers such as carisoprodol and morphine.  In fact, we promise at least one piece of Valium in every bite!  We also added all natural tryptophan (which is found in Thanksgiving turkey) and offer delicious nap inducing flavors such as Bisquits n' Gravy, Leftover Fried Chicken, Mammoth Burger, All-You-Can-Eat Chinese Buffet, and the ever popular Bacon!

Just listen to what others have to say about Uncle Buckey's Lethargy Bars:

*NOTE:  Typo was intentional...I thought it would be funnier than it actually turned out.  Sorry.

*NOTE:  Our photographer unfortunately ate an Uncle Buckey's Lethargy Bar during the photo shoot and was not able to hold the camera steady.  Since we were being charged by the hour, we decided to just let it go.

And here's a lucky person who just polished off one of our new Jumbo Size:

Don't worry folks, he's fine...he's just sleeping...yeah, "sleeping".  He looks so peaceful doesn't he?

Manufacturer Warning - After eating an Uncle Buckey's Lethargy Bar, please consider the following:

• Do NOT attempt to use heavy machinery
• Do NOT attempt to operate motorized vehicles
• Do NOT attempt to talk

If you find yourself feeling like you "can't eat just one", you may be having an addiction or a negative reaction to something else other than Uncle Buckey's Lethargy Bars.  If problem persists for more than 10 days, please contact your local detox or rehab center and tell them Uncle Buckey says "hiya".  We'll be waiting for you when you get out.

Oh, and stop calling us asking for more free samples.

-Cheers!

The Dope Show

The first few days after my surgery, I spent most of my time sleeping due to my narcotic cocktail of morphine, oxycodone and vicodin.  In those not so lucid moments between dreams, I would stare at the world around me and realize just how amazing the simple things in life can be...and how I couldn't stop thinking about how messed up everything looked.

A couple of side notes:  1)  I never thought I would ever use lyrics from a Marilyn Manson song in one of my posts, but it just seemed to fit .  2)  I also need to give credit to Ayris who, at the age of five, can already take better pictures than her dad.

Also, alternate post title #2:  How I Spent My Spring Break by Chris

-Cheers!

"Make Fun of Chris" Contest!

Greetings!  So as you may have noticed, I just put up a post and here we are a few days later with yet another one.  Well thanks to Mike Wheeler and my new direction (Occam's Razor), I will try to keep my posts shorter in an attempt to keep the new material coming more often.  I hope that this one is a fun one for all of you as I'm offering a contest prize for the person with the best response. 

For those of you that don't know me very well, I can be a smart ass...a total, raging smart ass.  I have a lot of people in my life that also like to give me as much crap as I like to give them.  So here is your chance to get in a funny jab at my expense.  Some of you have already made some pretty funny comments about my current situation with the whole hip thing, so I though I'd start a collection.

Now please keep it respectful.  While I can take some humor at my expense, my fragile self-esteem will not be able to handle a full assault of my overall being...so let's be nice please.

Here are two examples of what not to say:

Yeah, not funny and more than likely not going to go over well here.

But, I do have examples of some of the comments / jokes already made:

• Pinkerton started calling me HIPpie (which is hilarious if anyone remembers me from my actual hippie days)
• Tami said "...it's a pain in the hip"
• Because of my hideous scar, Nik asked if she can start calling me "Zipper"  (Dear Nik - Only if you don't expect me to respond)
• When Greg saw the picture of Adler and me with my cane, he said we looked like the pimp versions of Dr Evil and Mini Me
• Karen sent me a pretty funny text one night:

(***Anyone else find it odd that they do the "One-Hip Hokey Pokey" at fish frys these days?)

• And of course my favorite (and front runner) so far, Jason L sent me a link to The Scooter Store.  After I was done laughing, I fired up Photoshop and sent him a version of my own:

Jason said I look good.  Cara said she was going to print a copy to hang in her cube and blackmail me.  Both were appropriate responses.

So there you go, feel free to leave your best comments.  I'll be checking throughout the week and then submit the top 5 (assuming I actually get that many) to a preselected panel of judges for the final decision of who is the winner.

Also, in addition to this just being an exciting opportunity to take a jab at my expense (Ryan, I hope you're paying attention), the winner will receive a special prize along with an award ceremony to be captured on a future edition of the Lemon.

Good luck to you all...

-Cheers!

The leg bone is connected to the...something?

And here we are with yet another exciting post from the land of the Lemon.  I apologize again for a delay in the posts; however, I have cooked up a good excuse this time!  As most of you may know, I recently went under the knife and had my hip replaced.  The formal procedure is called a “total joint replacement”.  Basically, I now have a shiny, new ball and socket hip joint on the right side of my body made up of titanium and ceramics (yes, it sure will be fun going through airport security the rest of my life).

Anyway, I went into work for the first time since my surgery to have lunch with some coworkers and make sure my key still unlocked my office door (I thought for sure it would have turned into a break room or Wheeler would have taken it over or some third thing).  While I was there, Cara reminded me that I should be posting more on my blog since I haven’t been at work.  Well, that would have been a challenge the first few weeks since I was either sleeping or heavily medicated.  I wrote down a bunch of ideas and have no idea what they mean whatsoever.  So instead of trying to interpret my drug induced ramblings, I decided to stick with what I know best which is…um, I have no idea, but it sure as hell isn’t narcotic related.

I’ve had a lot of people asking questions about what happened during the actual procedure, but then they cringe when I start talking about dislocating my hip, bone saws and staples.  So I’ve decided to tell you the entire story of what happens, but in a nicer, friendlier way that hopefully won’t be as cringe-worthy as the actual (uncensored) process.  In this version, I’m going to pretend that you, the readers, are all 5 years old:

 

Well it all starts with the surgeon using a nice, sharp “feather” to “tickle” my leg open.  He will continue to “tickle” my leg and shift muscle around until he can find my bone:

Now, I know what you’re thinking – how can I take such “tickling” without the urgent need to “laugh hysterically”?  Well that, boys and girls, is a great question!  I can take this intense “tickle” because a “funny man” put a needle in the base of my spine which makes me lose feeling from my waist down.  To be extra careful, he also puts a “tickle blocker” (read: nerve blocker) into my leg to also make sure I don’t feel anything from deep within my leg.  Even after all that, they also add lots of “happy juice” into a tube in my arm to make sure I fall asleep.  Even though I may wake up and hear certain “goings on” during the replacement process, this “happy arm juice” will make sure I have no memory of it…aren’t science and chemicals fun kids?

One more thing to add about  all of these fun things sticking/hanging out of me:  they also add another long tube into my leg to help me drain and catch all the access “gummy bears” that will be encountered during the process (NOTE:  We’ve secretly replaced Chris’ blood with “gummy bears”…let’s see if they notice).  This bag will go home with me and I will be responsible for emptying it for several days until it needs to be taken out (I call it “Mr. Thirsty”).

Anyway, on with the story…are you still with me kids?  Because now is where it gets really exciting!  So once I’m asleep, feeling nothing and fully “tickled”, it’s time to separate Mr. Femur from The Happy Pelvis.  Now keep in mind, these two bones are meant to be together forever and they never want to be split from each other…EVER!  So it’s going to take a lot of “persuasion” to get these two lifelong BFFs away from each other.  You know how when your parents want you to do something you don’t want to do like clean your room or get a booster shot or chop off your arm?  Well they will try just about anything to get you to do it including lots of candy, later bedtimes and all the television you can watch, right?  Well that’s sort of what the doctors do to get these two bones apart.  Do you remember that big word kids?  That’s right – persuasion:

Oops, sorry about that boys and girls…I guess there are images even this blog won’t show (really?!).  Instead, please enjoy this tamer picture of a stupid penguin that is about to die:

Penguins sure are silly, dumb animals aren’t they kids?

Once Mr. Femur and The Happy Pelvis are no longer friends, it’s time to take off the head of Mr. Femur.  This is done with a special lollipop that looks a lot like a bone saw:

 

Ever wonder what they do with that leftover Mr. Femur head once they cut it off?  I do too.  I asked about it a lot before this whole thing started, and all they could tell me was, “no, you can’t keep it you weirdo”.  Surgeons sure like to make you feel special don’t they kids?  Well I figured that there are starving doggies in third world countries that would love to have a bone to chew on, so I’d like to think that I am donating to helping those poor doggies enjoy a little happiness in their lives (and we’ll find out next April if that is tax deductible).

So now it’s time to make a large, deep hole down the center of the now shortened Mr. Femur.  This is done with a special drill-like tool called a…wait for it…a DRILL:

Once the hole has been drilled, it’s time use a special hammer to “pop” in the metal rod into our newly drilled hole.  This “pop” hammer looks nothing like this:

But at least it’s good imagery for our story right boys and girls?

So now that we have our hole, we have our hammer and we have our metal rod, the surgeon “gently” and “calmly” hammers the rod into place.  This is an easy task and not a hard, frustrating process whatsoever:

Once the rod is in place, the surgeon uses a GPS satellite to make sure my legs are the same length and then we’re done.  It’s time to close my “tickled” area using staples to help keep everything in place.  Where are the pictures of that?  Well, while the GPS part is pretty cool and the staples were the most cringe-worthy part of the story to most people, I have decided to leave this part short (that and I couldn’t think of anything creative to draw for them…call me lazy).

Now all I have to do is wake up.  To do this, they move me under a giant lamp that they shine in my face to make me think it’s now morning time:

It’s very important to wake up as soon as possible because it’s not good for me to stay asleep for too long.  So if the light just isn’t working, it’s time to use other measures to get my sleepy butt awake:

Once I’m finally awake, it’s time for a tantalizing meal of pretzels and ice chips.  My tummy will be pretty woozy for a while because of all the “happy arm juice” pumping through my system so it’s a good idea to eat so I can have something to throw up later.

And finally, before they send me home (yes, this was outpatient!), it’s time to meet with the surgeon one more time so he can reassure me that everything went according to plan and I should be fine:

And there you have it.  Once all of this, I head home for an afternoon/evening of sleeping, narcotics (morphine, oxycodone, and vicodin), and peeing in a Taco Bell cup because I’m too “happy” to hit the toilet from a standing position and I’m not allowed to sit down.  Sounds exciting right kids?

Maybe next time I’ll share more about what happens after I wake up, the exciting visits I had from the nurses and physical therapist and of course, more adventures down the rabbit hole with my good friends Morphy, Vicodini and The Oxy Twins.

Until then, I leave you with a final picture of Adler trying to steal my cane from me:

He loves this thing and cries when he can’t have it.  I also think he gets a kick out of watching me fall down when he yanks it out from under me.  Kids can really suck the life out of you (and have the potential to really do some physical harm)…remember to pay it forward!

-Cheers!

Occam's Razor

Before I get into this latest post, I need to update everyone on several items.  First, yes M is pregnant.  Sorry for those of you (Jim and Jason, looking at you two) who may not have caught the subtleties of my previous post.  Second, I have recently gone in for surgery on my hip (total joint replacement).  While it's going to someday soon be a great thing, the recovery has been difficult.  I was not fully prepared by myself nor by my surgeon of what to expect in regards to pain, fatigue and the wonders of narcotic medication.  That last part has played the most havoc on my lifestyle in recent weeks.  If you've known me most of my life, you may be surprised to hear that I actually don't like taking drugs that make me feel out of control of my own body.  So having to take both morphine and Oxycodone to manage my pain has been an interesting experience for myself, M and the kids.  Regardless, I have come up with tons of new ideas and sketches and material for this blog, but since I don't have a way to conveniently dispense narcotic medication to you the readers, I'm sure most of the crazy stuff I've come up with won't make any sense.  So I'm sifting through the mountains of "what the heck does that mean" type material to see if there's something I can salvage for a more sober reader population...stay tuned.

For this post, I wanted to follow the theme of Occam's Razor.  For those of you not familiar with Occam's Razor, it's a principle that suggests we should tend towards simpler solutions to solving our problems.  Now there are going to be "Occam Snobs" out there that may cry foul and accuse me of oversimplifying the intent of the principle.  To those people I suggest you look elsewhere for intellectual debate...I don't care and will offer no rebuttal to anything you have to say in regards to your thoughts on the teachings of Father William of Ockham.

So how does it work?  Well again, we want to keep the theory as simple as possible as it will most likely be the correct solution.  For example:

One good theory, but let's make it more complex:

And now let's apply the Occam's Razor principle:



So which one do you think it was?  That's right, it was an Asher fart all along.

Recently I've noticed a trend in some of the more common children's songs that we play for the kids.  We have a nighttime noise machine that plays just the music (no singing) to some of these more popular songs.  M's mom recently stayed over to watch Adler one night and she made the same discovery:

For those of you who just stopped to sing each song, yes, it is the same melody.  So while some bands out there can play the same three chords and call it their latest album, all of that inspiration comes from these children's songs.  Our kids are capable of singing an entire repertoire of songs, but can only whistle one?  If you're as outraged as I'm sure you are, I suggest writing your congressman as I have (on several occasions).

I recently witnessed an interesting display of "David and Goliath" a few months ago during one of our last big snowstorms.  It was around the same time as the height of the union war going on in Wisconsin, so I couldn't help but post the following status on my Facebook page (which resulted in some amusing responses) :

If you read the entire string of comments, you will see that my friend Nik has requested that I turn this into a blog post.  Well, Nik, this one is for you:

Now please don't get mad.  I by no means am comparing my situation to the one in Tienanmen that looks similar to this.  It is more of my way to non-politically point out that we live in a society of rules and bureaucracy that has caused most citizens to sit back down and say "f*ck it, it's not worth the effort".  That one man with the means and the drive can accomplish the same as the bigger people as long as there is something worth standing up for.  That we all need to be held accountable for our actions, to stop playing the victim, and stop blaming others (teachers, unions, employers, government, law enforcement, big business) for our current state of the world.  That change starts right here with each one of us and I yearn for the day when we all can stand up and say, "I am a part of the problem and the solution starts right the f*ck here!" 

And we're back...sorry about that.  I try so hard to keep my political views to myself as much as possible.  Why?  Because I'm usually wrong.  I'm not fully on the right or the left side of the issues so when I voice my opinions, I have both sides telling me why I'm not seeing the issues for what they are...not a fan.

Anyway, back to the reason for this post.  I tend to over engineer the heck out of my life when I really shouldn't.  I wouldn't call it a curse, but there are times when I wish I could apply Occam's Razor to my life more often.  I have a mentor in this plight who goes by the name of Mike Wheeler.  If I'm too complicated in my actions, Mike is the antithesis of that.  He sees and exploits the simple points of any situation in a way I can only covet.

Folks, meet Mike Wheeler:

And of course, one of my favorites:

The entire Express Scripts Implementation team spent some time together during our annual Team Building event.  For some reason, we always schedule it over Wheeler's birthday.  So this year we wanted to make it up to him.  When the dessert came out one night at dinner, the entire team received a bowl of raspberry sorbet served with a mint leaf on the side.  It was delicious, but we wanted to acknowledge Wheeler's birthday and try to make it special for him.  So he received a piece of cake with candles and the whole team to sing Happy Birthday to him.

Course, in typical Wheeler fashion, this was his reaction:

So there you have it.  Occam's Razor, my views on the irrelevancy of choosing sides, and Mike Wheeler all in one giant post.  Again, once I can get my head back from the "Oxy Pixies", I hope to share with you some of the more obscure observations / experiences I have endured over these past few weeks.

In the meantime, I will leave you with the answer to an open item I'm sure is still on your mind - yes, Mike Wheeler did get his raspberry sorbet after all.  Cara was nice enough to track down another bowl so he wouldn't feel left out.

Before I end this post, I'd just like to make a comment about the recent earthquake in Japan.  We have some friends that recently moved to Tokyo for a job opportunity.  While CNN can attempt to tell you what is really happening, nothing can be more eye opening than the recent posts made by our friends who have had to evacuate Tokyo for a safer place.  People like Anderson Cooper can give stats and show colorful graphs and charts, but when they start making room in their display case for their next award, they neglect to mention that each one of those statistics is an actual person with a real story to tell.  Every statistic has a name and three of those names are Erik, Tami and Kjerstin.  Be safe guys, we love you and glad that you're all okay!

-Cheers!