You Know What I Think?

*I think that you're both the same candidate when it comes down to it. At this point I don't care who wins, I just want the stupidity to end.

*I think that either of you will be good for the country...for four to eight years. The changes that you speak of will take a lot longer than that. In four to eight years we're sick of you. We want change again. What can I say- I, They, America, all have A.D.D. And we fidget.

*I think that you should stop fooling people into thinking that your health care plans mean anything. Neither will pass. Stop talking about it to gain some fake sympathy votes. It's far more realistic to patch up the broken system rather than overhauling it.

*I think that education is still important. I know that not everyone thinks that, but c'mon you two. Can we hear you talk about anything besides health care, the war, and the economy? I know, I know, those are extremely important, but I want to hear more.

*I think your change is good. Let's be honest though- the change you speak of will, for the most part, not happen. As much as you want it what Romney said his entire campaign is true. Washington is broken. You're all Washington.

*I think you you both speak of important things. Things that, yes, should change. But you're biting off more than you can chew. More than America can chew. You're biting off more than we can afford. Be honest and realistic.

*I think I love what you stand for, but sometimes you get so caught up in the ineffectiveness of the current administration that you have given everybody an out. Personal responsibility be damned, just blame W. For everything.

*I think your government is very big. I think I get confused by your desire to stay out of our moral lives (which I thank you for), but then dictate where my finances are spent. I know it's idealistic, but why can't I invest into programs and ideas that I see worthy?

*I think that I can say things like this all the time, but in the same breath...

...God, America still needs help. Can we just make sure that honest people don't lose their houses? That our roads are still safe? That are kids are well educated? I don't have the answers. I wish you did, but I know that's asking too much right now.

*I think I am making a conscious to choose moral ethics over economic policy. That still may change though. I think that for me, the bi partisan system makes me choose either my value system or my wallet. That kind of sucks.

*I think you're all still politicians. You all did whatever you needed to do to get to the top. There is never going to be the perfect candidate.

Recession Shmreecession

At least ONE company is bucking the trend of stagnant or negative profits.

Assholes.

Not Sure Who To Vote For?

Then check this out.

Apparently Hillary's my gal at 80% with Mr. Obama right behind at 78%.

I still have to go with Barack I think.

He's the self proclaimed best dancer of the bunch.

Turn Right To Go Left

OK, Finn...I just watched Cars. Now your uncle can actually have intelligent conversations with you. Ka-chow!

The Private Life of Martys

OK, so stop panicking, the blog is no longer private. It should be, but I don't have the heart to make it so difficult for you all to read about my amazing life. Probably will be soon, but for now it's business as usual.

Not That I Actually Watch This Show (ahem)

Derek Webb (well, I guess technically Caedmon's Call) was on Grey's Anatomy tonight. He reminds me that there are actually amazing Christians still in this world. You should seriously check out his music, but more importantly check out his outlook on the world. It's pretty powerful.

Quote of the Night

Jessie and I were watching the Wild beat the Red Wings in overtime (great game), and when they showed Marian Gaborik's game winning goal in overtime Jessie said "Ooooh, right through the five- hole." Yeah, my wife knows hockey....

My Two Scoops

OK, like the rest of America, I am stoked for the new American Gladiators. You need to know that this was the greatest show of my childhood. Seriously. Saturday morning, my brother and me sitting in front of the TV. We were completely enthralled with the likes of Nitro, Tower and Turbo. We hung on every word of Mike Adamle and Larry Csonka as they took us play by play through events like Assault, Break Through and Conquer, Joust, The Wall, Swingshot and of course The Eliminator...

...However, the new series is not without its flaws. NBC, listen up, because I'm willing to work with you guys here....

-Too many crazy camera angles that make it tough to follow the action. Just give it to me straight, folks.
-Too many (scripted) interviews. I don't want to hear every competitor say they're giving 110% before every performance. Less talk, more rock.
-The announcer sucks.
-Not a mistake.
-And of course, the lack of the greatest comptetitor of all time:


Erik- Can I get a witness?

We Report, You Decide

Poll: Bullshit Is Most Important Issue For 2008 Voters

Resolute

*This time for real- I'm done smoking this year.  I want to be able to look at our kid after that first time I catch them smoking and be able to say that "Yes, I used to smoke too, but I quit for you, kid."

*Save money. It looks like it can happen, but it's still going to be hard this year with the little one coming and all- but isn't the little one all the more reason?

* Either A. put a deck on the house or B. start working on a finished basement.  We need more room.

*Do more around the house.  Like I have a choice now.

*Work less, family more.

*Get into music again.  This last month I've gotten in touch more, and it's been fun.

...It's amazing when I look forward to this year and I get to say that 2008 is the year when everything changed.  I'm so excited.

Here's to the new year.

More Than Meets the Ear

I'm watching Transformers right now. It's really an awful movie, but do you want to know the worst part about it? They keep mispronouncing Qatar.

Yes, I am a geographical elitist.

The Bread Making Process

Just in case you ever want to feel like a complete moron go back and read your blog over the last two years. My summation:

1. I talk about work way too much. Mostly it's something having to do with working too much, which in all honesty...how boring.

2. I don't post often, and when I do post I try to give a summation of the last two months by saying I work to much.

3. I hvae a lot of tpyos.

4. My writing style has changed, but it always seems to be pessimistic. Am I a pessimist or do I just love giving that impression. I mean, even in a post where I'm complaining about being pessimistic I'm being pessimistic. Weird.

5. I get awkwardly deep sometimes. I think to the point where a lot of people reading this would think that I'm depressed or something. I need to let you all know that sometimes it's simply because I'm listening to Iron and Wine and that happens when I listen to them.

6. I wonder who else reads this besides the usual suspects.

Welcome to the Jungle

So, yes. Jessie is pregnant. It's amazing. It's a miracle. It's exciting. It's nerve-racking. I've been the lucky husband that has a wife that isn't puking or showing any symptoms at all really (except falling asleep on the couch at 9:00 rather than 9:30). However, this whole thing has kept me on my toes and made me appreciate both the the miracle of life as well as the fragility of it.

Creating a life is almost one of those thing that's hard to whisper because everything feels so delicate right now. Through both first and secondhand ways I have learned to become aware of how in an instant everything can change. My accident started it all. A week later I found out Jessie was pregnant. I don't think of the the obvious what ifs....Then the we found out we got to share in pregnancy with two people very close to us, only to see the pain of the unspeakable. There just aren't any words for that....Then one of my best friends lost one of his best friends in his basement. His buddy was just visiting him from Mankato with his wife and child. My buddy woke up to go to work and received a call right after he got there to come home immedietly. By the time he made the five minute drive back, his best friend was gone. I didn't really know the guy, but shit...it kind of got stuck in me.

So what am I saying? Shouldn't I be thinking happier thoughts? I think the point of this post is that I am. I am truly elated. I am truly blessed. But most of all I am in awe of the miracle. I'm not sure if anybody can truly appreciate this miracle. It's one of those things like love: It exists, and in the hectic world that we live in, sometimes it takes events like these to truly make one pause realize it. Makes you want to go around and let everyone around you know how much they are loved.

And boy, do I love you all....

On a lighter note, I'm trying to convince Jessie that if we have a boy, his middle name MUST be Axl. Think about it ________ Axl Rowles. Perfect. I need help from you guys here. She's not really going for it.

More to come. More often.

Hillside Manor: Sometime After 2AM

So I was sleeping fine. A little thirsty, but all in all, sleeping peacefully. Then I woke up. About a half hour ago. Now I can't get back to sleep. 3:00 in the morning and all I can do is lay in bed and think about how busy I am. Work is just nuts right now and the madness of the season is finally catching up to me. This is the first time that I've actually managed a store during December (remember last year I was just getting ready to start opening Maple Grove), and I must say that the adaptations I have to make to my daily routine, both in the store and at home, are throwing me off a little. Then I look at the calendar and think, 'You know what? I'm good. Three more weeks left....'

Funny how I let my crew know that this is the season they're going to be putting in more hours, but make more money than they've made all year. I tell them they can sleep in January. I suppose that means me too, but I honestly, I didn't mean it literally.

Not a Promise, Just a Threat

hey buck-

me. you. the north woods. a rifle. this weekend. be there.

love always,
your worst f' in' nightmare.

Adjust Yo' Neck

*So I'm feeling much better two weeks after the "Big Crash." My back is still a little sore in the morning, but it's nothing that 3 Advil Liquigels can't handle. Although I do kind of wish that I would have gotten something stronger to get me through last week...like Percocet. I took four days off just to recover. I did nothing. Hung out with Jessie, drank a lot of beer and moaned and groaned every time I tried to get up and actually move around. I may still go see a doctor eventually, but I'm kind of opting for the quick fix of a chiropractor instead.

*I leave for Vegas in a week for a store managers meeting. Whenever I tell people that they get all excited for me. Stop it already. It's not as cool as it sounds. Meetings, meetings and more meetings followed by meetings. Don't get me wrong, it should be pretty fun, but...meetings.

*Besides that, not much happening. Just life. I'm amazing.

By Popular Demand

This is my leg. Read it and weep, folks....



and no, I still haven't been to the doctor. Why? Because I'm such a freakin' man.....

P.S. I am feeling MUCH better today.

How?

Warning: This is a very long read.

"Marty, wake up!"

I open my eyes. I'm tired. I woke up at 4:30 to go duck hunting with Tom and John. We saw nothing. Well, three ducks, but really, nothing. Apparently all the local ducks up and headed south already and there hasn't been a cold snap in Canada to force the Canadian ducks down.

Then an afternoon partridge hunt where, after stumbling through the woods for 2 hours and trying my best to follow the rules, we were skunked again. Too warm out? Lack of dog? Or was it the new clothes I'm wearing giving us bad luck? I've got to get the skunk off these according to Tom. He's superstitious like that.

So I open my eyes and Jessie asks if I'm ready to go out hunting again. I'm tired, but pretty eager. I want to at least get a shot off. I'm going alone this time. Tom's too tired, John's out on the deer stand with a bow, but Tom knows a trail about a mile up the road where I'm bound to see some partridge. I'm not sure if he knows that I don't even know what a partridge really looks like, but I'm awake now and pretty eager still.

"I'll take the truck. You're going to follow me to the trail on the four wheeler. There's going to be a couple of times on the way where you'll have to break from the trail and go on the highway, but don't worry about it. It's illegal, so if you get caught, you pay the ticket, but I've never been caught. Just stay on the asphalt when the shoulder gets to small." Tom's drawing up a scratch map of the trail and going over the final details and precautions I should take on the hunt.

"OK, I got this...let's go. I'm awake and pretty eager to get a bird today."

After a quick trip with Jessie on the back of the four-wheeler up to the gas station I get back and am ready to go. I run inside to grab my gloves. My hands were pretty cold from the ride to the gas station.

I kiss my bride, Tom hops in the truck and we're on the way. The trail starts out about five feet off the road. Just your average snowmobile trail. Easy to manage. Suddenly the trail ends and Tom slows down to wave me over to the highway. I ride over and start to follow him. A couple cars pass as Tom waves them through. The cars are close to me. Scary. This thing tops out at 40 mph. Tom's going about that. I gotta keep up. The shoulder has enough room for a four wheeler. I'm not too worried. We pass the part where the road goes over the lake. I hop on the asphalt. I feel exposed. Like at any time some car can come speeding past me and push me to the shoulder.

The lake passes on both sides, I hop back on the shoulder. 'God, Tom's going fast....'

I didn't even have time. I catch the lip of the shoulder. I lose control for an instant. The shoulder disappeared under me and gave way to....I look up into this swampy grassland. This is bad. Tom's going to think I'm such a dumbass. Another rookie mistake by the green north-woodser.

Jessie.

Fuck.

It's a blur. I know those thoughts ran through my head in that split second. I also remember the four wheeler literally rolling over me.

Jessie.

Fuck.

It's funny what goes through your mind those moments after. You immediately take inventory. 'Move, damn it.' I hurt. Is something broken? The first thing you want to do was simply move. 'Move damn it.' I probably laid there for about five seconds just wondering what the outcome would be. 'Is this it?' That's a very scary question. Think about it. Think about the moment. 'Is this it?' Scary.

Then I pop up.

I can't breathe. At all. I'm gasping for breath, but no air is going in our out. I look up for Tom. I think he's turning around. He had to have seen that.

I hope he saw that.

Can I walk?

I can walk. I think. I'm moving. I hurt. Everywhere. God I hurt. My back has mind numbing pain shooting across it. My neck. 'Breathe.' I can't.

I look up to the road. I'm about five feet down a steep embankment. Emphasis on steep. I fell all that way. Flipped. Rolled. What happened? 'That's a big embankment.' I need to get up there. I struggle to scurry up it. Tom's coming. I get to the road. I can't breathe. At all. I look down to the four wheeler. There's smoke coming from it. 'Fuck, I broke it. Tom's going to kill me.'

"MARTY, ARE YOU OK." Tom's getting out the truck looking about as worried as I've ever seen Tom. He speaks deliberately.

"I...heh...think...SOOoooo...."

I'm expecting the worst. I'm thinking in my head that I'm probably in shock. My leg's probably broken. My face gashed open. My ulna's sticking through my Minnesota Wild sweatshirt.

"Breathe, Marty. Breathe. Look at me.... There's blood on your face. Where's that blood coming from? It's this egg on your head. It's bleeding but it doesn't look to bad.... Turn around. Are you OK? Breathe. Follow my finger. Good. Now look me in the eyes and count to ten." I do. It's hard because I can't breathe. At all. He pokes my ribs. Feels my arms and legs. "I think you're OK."

"Hehhh...really?" Somehow I find relief in those words. OK feels good. I don't feel good. But I'm OK.

"Yeah, you're wife's gonna kill you for those ripped pants, but you can walk, I don't think anything's broken and your not bleeding too badly. Just from that egg." I look down at myself. These pants are torn to pieces. That's OK, they're not pants I care about. I spit cat tails out of my mouth.

"Really...hhehh." I can't breathe. At all.

"I think I am OK." Shit. I think I broke that four wheeler. I look back at it. It's still idling. "I'm sorry, Tom."

"Marty, you're OK, that's all I care about. Are you OK??"

I think I am. Holy shit, I think I am. How? That four wheeler rolled on me.

Tom's going on about a cloud of cat tails and how I'm so lucky. Wow. I'm coming into the reality of the situation.

"You want a smoke." I look at him like he's crazy. I can't breathe. At all.

"I...just...need...to...catch...my...breath...."

I look up and there's a lit Marb Red in my face. I take it. I smoke. People are stopping asking if I'm OK. My pants are ripped, my back hurts like a bitch, I'm bleeding, but I think I'm OK. Tom grabs my gloves that I dropped on the road when he wanted to check my hands and yells at me for wearing gloves on such a warm day. Sorry?

We assess the situation. I'm OK, the four wheeler's five feet down in the ditch. "Marty, stay here, I'm going to have to pull this thing out with my truck. I don't have a tow rope and I'm sure as hell not going back to the cabin yet, so we'll use the winch to get it out." He turns around and we get climb down to the four wheeler. I hurt so much. I still can hardly breathe. God, I hurt. Everywhere. And I still can't breathe.

I climb back down to the four wheeler. I know I'm hurting more than I ever have in my life, but Tom needs my help to get this thing out of here. I just want to go home already to my wife. I start releasing the winch it goes ten feet out. "Marty, keep going...Marty your pulling it in, not out." I'm not. I'm pressing out. I can't explain myself because I can barely breathe. Still. "OUT, MARTY, DAMN IT!"

"I...AM...!" I'm trying to tell him that I'm pressing out with the winch. I can't. I can only point in the direction I'm pushing the button.

The winch is broken. The quarter inch steel cable is tangled like a rat's nest. Damn it. We start the four wheeler back up. It dawned on me then that it's still running. I thought I broke it. Tom gets on. "Get back up to the road." People are still stopping. I don't think we need help. Tom looks around. He sees the plan. He puts the four wheeler in reverse. 'You have to be kidding me.' It was a hot knife through butter as he backed that sucker in reverse out of the ditch. About 100 ft worth of ditch at that. Amazing. It still works. Absolutely amazing. I mean, that thing literally rolled on top of me. Rolled....!

"Go to my truck, Marty. Drive it back. I'll take the four wheeler." Thank God. "Now, you have to explain to Jessie and Cindy that wasn't my fault. It was your own damn fault. Cindy's still going to kill me, but it WAS NOT my fault." He's 100% right.

I climb into his truck, still dazed. Breath is kind of back. Not really though. Shallow breaths. I turn around. My back...My neck....I'm alive, I'm moving...How? That was bad. Could have been much worse. As I drive I marvel at Arctic Cat that Tom is riding. How does that thing still work?

I climb out of the truck. Cindy's finishing the stew.

"I...got...in...an...accident....I'm...OK...Don't...be...mad...at...Tom, it wasn't...his fault...."

Jessie runs in from the living room. I woke here up from her nap. She looks at me. Concerned. I'm here. She's here. I'm so lucky. I can't even tell her what happened or how happy I am to see her, or how bad it really was. I can't talk. I can't breath that well still. They want all the info that I can't give. Tom tells them when he walks in. Wow. I'm OK.

Jessie takes me to the bedroom to change. I literally can't move. She helps me take my hunting boots off. I break down in tears as I realize what just happened. Tom pokes his head in. I think he understands the emotions that I'm feeling. God, I was glad he was there. God, I'm glad that Jessie's here. I'm OK. I hurt soo much, but I'm here. I'm OK.

So the final inventory. I have a very sore back right below my shoulder blade, my neck is killing me, I can't move very well, I have two huge bruises on my inner thigh, a lump on my head and scratches all over. That's it. I'm OK. It took me about an hour to fully get my breath back, but it's here. No collapsed lung. No broken ribs or other bones. No broken back. No stitches needed. Just really banged up. I mean, I remember that four wheeler rolling over me. Literally. This should have been worse. The best pain ever is the "I'm OK" pain.

And once again I ask, "How?"

Last night I laid in bed before I went to sleep and my mind started racing with what ifs. You can probably guess what I was thinking. Worst case scenarios and the like. Then I came to the realization. There are no what ifs, only this moment. And in this moment I'm OK.

I don't really care how.

And Your Hairy Butt....

So I'm not going to post the video, because that's all I seem to be doing lately, but...

"You ran for the president of Iran. We ran together to a tropical island."

Genius Mr. Samberg, genius....

Sorry About All the Videos....

But this is too easy....