It seems you people are a suspicious bunch. Because I haven't updated the tens of you who read my blog about how well or terribly wrong my quitting smoking is going, I'm being accused of jumping off the proverbial wagon. Well, doubters, you're wrong! I have successfully managed to not smoke for nearly three weeks now. And for those of you who still doubt me, I haven't chewed tobacco, used a nicotine patch nor chewed nicotine gum either. I haven't even smoked a pipe nor a cigar. And not only can my fiance vouch for me, but also my Loose Talk bandmates who spent an entire weekend with me while we drank beer and wine!
This Chantix stuff is great! The only exception was the first day of not smoking. As I've blogged before, I was a situational smoker. Certain circumstances just dictated to me that I needed to smoke. But once I broke myself of those situations and assimilating them with smoking, I've managed to "just say no".
I know. There will always be doubters and those of you who will hope I fail. To you, I give you the one finger salute just like I did to Marlboro Lights. I even "unsubscribed" to the Marlboro email list which teased me with $4 off coupons for a carton of smokes. I'm guessing I won't get a birthday card this year from Marlboro like I have for the last several years which always said, "Thanks for living another year! Happy Birthday, Craig!"
"Sixty Minutes" did a story recently about Big Tobacco's newest ploy to keep nicotine addicts as long term customers. The latest and greatest form of a delivery system for nicotine is called Snus. It's similar to those "smokeless" tobacco pouches, but according to Leslie Stahl, they smell similar to grass (not pot...the kind in your yard). You simply place the pouch between your cheek and gum and because it's thin, it doesn't give you the look like you have a mouth full of crap in your mouth. In Europe, it's touted as a safe alternative to smoking and since so many places are banning smoking, even outdoors, it gives the nicotine addict another way to get a fix.
But what the story reveals is that some people who use Snus aren't using them as an alternative to firing up a smoke. The Snus are being used IN ADDITION to smoking. One man they interviewed claimed because of Snus, he's only smoking a single pack of cigarettes a day. But he admitted he's also sucking on ten or more Snus per day. The guy's getting the equivalent of about three to four packs of cigarettes a day!
I probably would've smoked three to four packs a day except for one thing - there wasn't enough time in the day! But seriously, that's a lot of nicotine for the body to process. And not only does the smoke destroy your lungs, the nicotine causes your blood vessels to constrict and that's what ultimately leads to heart disease - your heart struggles to push blood through your body because your damned arteries are smaller than they're supposed to be.
I'm glad I'm finally smoke-free and, more importantly, nicotine free. But do me a favor. If you EVER see me light up a cigarette or stick a dip or wad of chewing tobacco in my mouth, just slap the hell out of me and call me an idiot. I'll thank you when I come out of the coma.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Day 2 of Smoking Cessation...
So...I'm irritable as hell and it's driving everyone around me to be irritable. This is not a good thing when you're in a home with two women who are PMSing or about to start PMSing. Maybe I'M PMSing! Regardless, I'm not enjoying being cranky all the time. Except when I sleep.
Speaking of sleep, I had another major bizarre dream last night. I attended a funeral at a hardware store. Many of you were there and it was great to see you! I have no idea who died or why the funeral was being held at a hardware store, but the great thing was I found some unique and interesting tools to add to my tool box.
For my readers who have successfully quit smoking, I have this question: did you dream about smoking? In my dream last night, I dreamed I stepped outside with some fellow funeral attendees to have a smoke, but I couldn't light the cigarette. Every time I tried, the wind would blow it out or the lighter just simply wouldn't light. But I remember wanting to smoke that cigarette so badly. I'm sure it was some subconscious message telling me I don't need to smoke, but I remember that I wanted to smoke.
I've been told by some of you who've successfully quit smoking that there are many times when you still want or desire a cigarette even after 10-20 years of not smoking. Even after two days of not smoking, I do find the smell of it nauseating. I guess that's a good thing or, at least, a good start.
I hope the irritability begins to taper off soon. I know, I know...I'm sure there are a few (maybe many) people saying, "But Craig, you're ALWAYS irritable." I'll give you that, but imagine me MORE irritable than I usually am and you may start to understand the elevated level of anxiety I'm experiencing.
Speaking of sleep, I had another major bizarre dream last night. I attended a funeral at a hardware store. Many of you were there and it was great to see you! I have no idea who died or why the funeral was being held at a hardware store, but the great thing was I found some unique and interesting tools to add to my tool box.
For my readers who have successfully quit smoking, I have this question: did you dream about smoking? In my dream last night, I dreamed I stepped outside with some fellow funeral attendees to have a smoke, but I couldn't light the cigarette. Every time I tried, the wind would blow it out or the lighter just simply wouldn't light. But I remember wanting to smoke that cigarette so badly. I'm sure it was some subconscious message telling me I don't need to smoke, but I remember that I wanted to smoke.
I've been told by some of you who've successfully quit smoking that there are many times when you still want or desire a cigarette even after 10-20 years of not smoking. Even after two days of not smoking, I do find the smell of it nauseating. I guess that's a good thing or, at least, a good start.
I hope the irritability begins to taper off soon. I know, I know...I'm sure there are a few (maybe many) people saying, "But Craig, you're ALWAYS irritable." I'll give you that, but imagine me MORE irritable than I usually am and you may start to understand the elevated level of anxiety I'm experiencing.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Day 1 of Smoking Cessation...
Today's the first day I'm attempting to go without a cigarette. It sucks. What I'm trying to do is focus not so much on the fact that I really want a cigarette, but on the fact that it's an expensive habit. A pack of smokes here in Connecticut is nearly $8 per pack. If I just smoke one pack a day, that's around $240 per month or nearly $3,000 per year! But I didn't just smoke one pack per day. Sometimes I would smoke close to two packs, but very rarely did I smoke less than a pack on a daily basis.
Cigarettes are not expensive to produce nor sell. A pack of smokes only costs about $0.47 to produce. The gap between the costs to produce and the price at the local convenience store is primarily taxes. And when I smoked, I never voted for a single tax increase on cigarettes nor any tobacco products. Of course, the only reason I didn't vote on these taxes is because I wasn't given the opportunity to vote on them. Like many of our taxes, tobacco taxes are considered a "luxury tax" because tobacco products, liquor, beer, etc. are considered to be products that we really don't need, but we want them for our own pleasure. It's just another shining example of how we allow our government to tax us without any representation. Of course, Congress knows this because a majority of us don't smoke or chew tobacco. Only about ten percent of us do, but we get to pay 100% of the tax. Some would say that this type of taxation is analogous to the healthcare debate, but I'm talking about smoking here, not healthcare.
I'm discovering (although I already knew it) that I'm a "situational smoker". I would smoke while waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. I would then pour myself a cup of coffee, step outside and enjoy another cigarette while watching the news through the kitchen window. If someone called me on the phone, I would grab my smokes and step outside for a cigarette. While driving, I would smoke because it gave me something to do while I complained about all the sucky drivers around town. And if I was drinking, it was just a natural combination. I hated it when various cities started banning smoking in bars. I could understand banning restaurant smoking, but bars?
That was until I had a dear, close friend of mine die of a rare form of lung cancer attributed to high levels of stress and second-hand smoke. I won't go into the details of the stress my buddy was going through, but we played in bands together and he played in various clubs for most of his adult life. He didn't smoke either.
I've been saying I was going to quit for years. It's actually been more like decades. But I was always able to find an excuse to NOT quit...I'm going through a divorce...I worked for Enron...I just lost my wallet...I think it's about to start raining. I could find an excuse to not quit in any given situation.
So this time, I've decided to focus on the monetary savings of quitting more so than missing the pleasure of smoking. I've heard that you never quit a habit, you simply replace that habit with another habit. Some people turn to food. Some turn to exercise. My choice is to turn to chewing gum and exercise. At least I'll have great smelling breath and be in shape!
Stay tuned...
Cigarettes are not expensive to produce nor sell. A pack of smokes only costs about $0.47 to produce. The gap between the costs to produce and the price at the local convenience store is primarily taxes. And when I smoked, I never voted for a single tax increase on cigarettes nor any tobacco products. Of course, the only reason I didn't vote on these taxes is because I wasn't given the opportunity to vote on them. Like many of our taxes, tobacco taxes are considered a "luxury tax" because tobacco products, liquor, beer, etc. are considered to be products that we really don't need, but we want them for our own pleasure. It's just another shining example of how we allow our government to tax us without any representation. Of course, Congress knows this because a majority of us don't smoke or chew tobacco. Only about ten percent of us do, but we get to pay 100% of the tax. Some would say that this type of taxation is analogous to the healthcare debate, but I'm talking about smoking here, not healthcare.
I'm discovering (although I already knew it) that I'm a "situational smoker". I would smoke while waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. I would then pour myself a cup of coffee, step outside and enjoy another cigarette while watching the news through the kitchen window. If someone called me on the phone, I would grab my smokes and step outside for a cigarette. While driving, I would smoke because it gave me something to do while I complained about all the sucky drivers around town. And if I was drinking, it was just a natural combination. I hated it when various cities started banning smoking in bars. I could understand banning restaurant smoking, but bars?
That was until I had a dear, close friend of mine die of a rare form of lung cancer attributed to high levels of stress and second-hand smoke. I won't go into the details of the stress my buddy was going through, but we played in bands together and he played in various clubs for most of his adult life. He didn't smoke either.
I've been saying I was going to quit for years. It's actually been more like decades. But I was always able to find an excuse to NOT quit...I'm going through a divorce...I worked for Enron...I just lost my wallet...I think it's about to start raining. I could find an excuse to not quit in any given situation.
So this time, I've decided to focus on the monetary savings of quitting more so than missing the pleasure of smoking. I've heard that you never quit a habit, you simply replace that habit with another habit. Some people turn to food. Some turn to exercise. My choice is to turn to chewing gum and exercise. At least I'll have great smelling breath and be in shape!
Stay tuned...
Monday, March 22, 2010
Quitting...
I'm in the process of quitting. Not quitting life or being sarcastic or disgruntled, but quitting one of the most deadly and despicable habits known to man. Smoking.
I use the term process because it's not something I've been able to do on my own before. And it's also something I've said I would do for several years now. It just wasn't convenient for me at those times.
About a year ago, I asked my doctor for a prescription for Chantix. For many years, I had heard people rave about the efficacy of this drug. But my biggest obstacle was the list of side effects that were reported in the disclaimers for the drug. Dizziness, upset stomach, gas, bloating, nausea, constipation, vomiting and sleep problems. And these were just the "common" side effects. But I was also concerned about the less common side effects such as depression and suicidal thoughts.
I put off taking the drug all this time, but I've been on it for a week now and there's really only three side effects I've noticed. I fart more and I actually remember my dreams. The other side effect, according to my fiance, is I don't snore like I used to. I'm not a BIG snorer, but she's a light sleeper. If I just wheeze in my sleep a little, she wakes up.
Besides the increased fart frequency, I'm also kind of enjoying my "vivid, unusual, or strange dreams." I have no idea how often I dream. I rarely remember my dreams. But on Chantix, my dreams are fairly detailed AND memorable.
Last night, I dreamed I was back in college, but I was attending a class off-campus and it was being conducted in a retail strip center right next to the coolest 7-11 convenience store I've ever seen in my life! It had everything and I mean EVERYTHING! There were great smells and sounds and lighting. It was like a place you would want to hang out in all day. I don't recall what I bought in my dream, but I'm sure it was the best tasting whatever-it-was thing I'd ever had.
So, I leave my dream 7-11 and go next door to my class. I sit down next to this really "dreamy" woman, but as soon as I get settled into my chair, she starts talking really loud to me while the professor is giving his lecture. I'm amused in my dream that the professor doesn't seem to notice and he keeps giving the lecture like there's nothing going on. I finally "shush" the girl to be quiet and she stops. Next thing I know, class is over and I have no idea what the professor was talking about and I don't have any notes written down to show for it.
As I'm walking back to my car, the girl walks with me and begins talking, but, again, I have no idea what she's talking about. The next thing I know is I feel a hand on my shoulder from somebody behind me. I turn around and it's the big, football-player-looking guy asking me why I'm walking with this girl. I looked right at him and said, "I have no idea who she is and I don't know why she's talking to me."
He responds back with, "Well, she's my girlfriend and you better leave her alone."
When I attempted to explain that all I did was unsuccessfully get her to shush her mouth during class, he pulled one of those "I'm gonna pretend like I'm gonna hit you, but just to make you flinch" moves. Of course, I flinched and he got a good laugh out of it. I hated that when I was a kid and I still hate it in my dreams.
I was then awoken by the sound of footsteps in the house. I'm not sure if someone was actually walking around or if it was our resident ghost, but I wish I could've finished the dream with me getting even with that girl's boyfriend. Not really. I could care less. But I do wish I could find that 7-11 again.
I use the term process because it's not something I've been able to do on my own before. And it's also something I've said I would do for several years now. It just wasn't convenient for me at those times.
About a year ago, I asked my doctor for a prescription for Chantix. For many years, I had heard people rave about the efficacy of this drug. But my biggest obstacle was the list of side effects that were reported in the disclaimers for the drug. Dizziness, upset stomach, gas, bloating, nausea, constipation, vomiting and sleep problems. And these were just the "common" side effects. But I was also concerned about the less common side effects such as depression and suicidal thoughts.
I put off taking the drug all this time, but I've been on it for a week now and there's really only three side effects I've noticed. I fart more and I actually remember my dreams. The other side effect, according to my fiance, is I don't snore like I used to. I'm not a BIG snorer, but she's a light sleeper. If I just wheeze in my sleep a little, she wakes up.
Besides the increased fart frequency, I'm also kind of enjoying my "vivid, unusual, or strange dreams." I have no idea how often I dream. I rarely remember my dreams. But on Chantix, my dreams are fairly detailed AND memorable.
Last night, I dreamed I was back in college, but I was attending a class off-campus and it was being conducted in a retail strip center right next to the coolest 7-11 convenience store I've ever seen in my life! It had everything and I mean EVERYTHING! There were great smells and sounds and lighting. It was like a place you would want to hang out in all day. I don't recall what I bought in my dream, but I'm sure it was the best tasting whatever-it-was thing I'd ever had.
So, I leave my dream 7-11 and go next door to my class. I sit down next to this really "dreamy" woman, but as soon as I get settled into my chair, she starts talking really loud to me while the professor is giving his lecture. I'm amused in my dream that the professor doesn't seem to notice and he keeps giving the lecture like there's nothing going on. I finally "shush" the girl to be quiet and she stops. Next thing I know, class is over and I have no idea what the professor was talking about and I don't have any notes written down to show for it.
As I'm walking back to my car, the girl walks with me and begins talking, but, again, I have no idea what she's talking about. The next thing I know is I feel a hand on my shoulder from somebody behind me. I turn around and it's the big, football-player-looking guy asking me why I'm walking with this girl. I looked right at him and said, "I have no idea who she is and I don't know why she's talking to me."
He responds back with, "Well, she's my girlfriend and you better leave her alone."
When I attempted to explain that all I did was unsuccessfully get her to shush her mouth during class, he pulled one of those "I'm gonna pretend like I'm gonna hit you, but just to make you flinch" moves. Of course, I flinched and he got a good laugh out of it. I hated that when I was a kid and I still hate it in my dreams.
I was then awoken by the sound of footsteps in the house. I'm not sure if someone was actually walking around or if it was our resident ghost, but I wish I could've finished the dream with me getting even with that girl's boyfriend. Not really. I could care less. But I do wish I could find that 7-11 again.
Let's Stir the Pot...
I'm ALL FOR health care reform. Yep, I really am. I'm all for transportability of health insurance. I'm all for not losing health care because I happen to get sick or have a preexisting condition. I'm all for parents being able to provide health insurance for their kids when they can't find a job after college. I'm also for tort reform.
I believe there are a multitude of things congress (sic) can do to create laws that force insurance companies to provide adequate and affordable coverage to every American citizen. The problem is they're going about it the wrong way. Instead of listening to the people of this country, instead of listening to doctors who provide healthcare, they decided to do what they think is best for all us. It's that old, "do as I say, not as I do" mentality.
I question the judgement of those who believe our government knows what's best for us. Not just with healthcare, but with ALL things. I guess these are the same people who believe it's someone else's responsibility to educate their kids about sex, drugs, religion, morals, thinking for themselves, healthy diets, personal responsibility and a multitude of other useful life skills.
"Do unto others" isn't followed by, "before they do unto you." It's about having mutual respect for people. Congress has decided that they know better. They know what we need regardless of whether we want it or not. Or even HOW we want it. Congress has disrespected a majority of our country and those people will not quickly forget.
The irony of the entire ordeal is this: the entities who will benefit the greatest from government run health are...THE INSURANCE AND DRUG COMPANIES! Don't believe me? Wall Street seems to think so and those stocks are rising in today's trading.
This isn't the end. It's only the beginning.
I believe there are a multitude of things congress (sic) can do to create laws that force insurance companies to provide adequate and affordable coverage to every American citizen. The problem is they're going about it the wrong way. Instead of listening to the people of this country, instead of listening to doctors who provide healthcare, they decided to do what they think is best for all us. It's that old, "do as I say, not as I do" mentality.
I question the judgement of those who believe our government knows what's best for us. Not just with healthcare, but with ALL things. I guess these are the same people who believe it's someone else's responsibility to educate their kids about sex, drugs, religion, morals, thinking for themselves, healthy diets, personal responsibility and a multitude of other useful life skills.
"Do unto others" isn't followed by, "before they do unto you." It's about having mutual respect for people. Congress has decided that they know better. They know what we need regardless of whether we want it or not. Or even HOW we want it. Congress has disrespected a majority of our country and those people will not quickly forget.
The irony of the entire ordeal is this: the entities who will benefit the greatest from government run health are...THE INSURANCE AND DRUG COMPANIES! Don't believe me? Wall Street seems to think so and those stocks are rising in today's trading.
This isn't the end. It's only the beginning.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Open Mic Night...
Being a newbie to the Hartford area, I was interested in what kind of music scene existed around town. I've played music for 3/4ths of my life and love hearing local bands in little hole-in-the-wall bars and clubs. Saint Patrick's day seemed like a good night to head to a downtown venue to catch "Open Mic Night" at a cool, little blues/BBQ venue called Black Eyed Sally's. I'm not sure why you would name a place that seems to promote domestic violence, but I didn't see any women with black eyes nor anyone with a "Sally" name tag.
I'm not Irish, but I would guess that Ireland must have been so inundated with snakes that it was worthwhile for Patrick to rid the place of these reptiles and allow the citizens to drink heavily. Were snakes drinking all the beer and whiskey and that's why Patrick's miracle is still celebrated today? I guess I'll have to Google it later, but for now, I'm going with "snakes drake all the beer and they had to get rid of them."
I digress...
Most Open Mic Nights (OMN) I've been to feature local musicians who have varying degrees of talent. Some are veterans of the music scene and some are younguns trying to impress the other musicians. This OMN was no different. As a matter of fact, it was fairly predictable. The "house" band warmed the crowd up with a few tightly played blues tunes and then one of the members called up the first group to perform. Being a drummer myself, it's pretty easy to read the body language of another drummer who's about to play. Before the house band drummer could get off his stool, the next drummer they called up jumps up on stage and starts moving around like he's about to run the 100 meter. He's stretching, loosening up his legs and arms and swinging his head around. I'm guessing this will help him avoid any cramping that might occur. But it's more of a pretext to what's about to be played. Or better yet, "how" it's about to be played.
The keyboard player from the house band remained on stage to play with the first group of Open Mic'ers. He obviously had previously played with this new drummer because he quickly starts barking orders for him to keep the volume down and not to rush things. He might as well be telling Barbaro to jog around the track the first half a mile at the Kentucky Derby. After one of the guest guitarists gave the tempo, it was off to the races and the entire band struggled to keep up. At this point, the house band drummer walks nonchalantly in front of the stage and gives the universal signal for "slow down, dude." I'll give the drummer this much...the guy had some chops, but he had absolutely no meter. Translation: he could play some complicated licks, but couldn't keep a steady tempo.
(Know how to get a drummer off your front porch? Pay him for the pizza.)
There's only one thing worse than a drummer with no meter...a bass player who doesn't know what a 1, 4, 5 blues progression is. I'm not even a bass player - although I can strum a guitar - but I do know that if you can't play a simple blues progression, you probably need to spend a little more time practicing at home in your man cave than at an OMN. The bass and drums are the foundation of the rhythm section of any band. If either one of them suck, the WHOLE band sucks. I don't care if your guitarist could make Steve Vai sound like a hack. If the rhythm section isn't tight, it's just not going to sound very good.
(Know what you call a bass player who just broke up with his girlfried? Homeless.)
When I was a kid, I loved to dance. I even won a dance contest when I was in 7th or 8th grade. But after playing in different bands for a few decades and watching how drunk people dance (especially white, drunk people), I decided a long time ago that I don't like dancing. Obviously, not everyone subscribes to my school of thought on dancing and that's fine with me. The over-40 crowd who dominated OMN this particular night could have made a great advertisement for Viagra or Cialis. Not only does it help those who suffer from ED, but it also seems to help those who can't dance, but do it anyway. I was entertained by an older couple in their 60s who jumped onto the dance floor and danced like they each had their own pole they were humping. This scene was just another reminder of why I don't dance.
After waiting nearly three hours to get the opportunity to play drums with whatever misfits they stuck me with, I decided it was late and I would exceed my self-allotment of beverages if I stayed any longer. I went up to the guy in charge of OMN and told him to take me off the list because I was leaving. He said I was going to be next and to stick around five more minutes. Right after he said this, the band broke into a bluesy version of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida". I said, "No, thanks," and left.
I'm not sure if I'll attend another OMN, but it was nice to get out of the house for an evening of making fun of others. Because we all know that just makes us feel better about ourselves.
I'm not Irish, but I would guess that Ireland must have been so inundated with snakes that it was worthwhile for Patrick to rid the place of these reptiles and allow the citizens to drink heavily. Were snakes drinking all the beer and whiskey and that's why Patrick's miracle is still celebrated today? I guess I'll have to Google it later, but for now, I'm going with "snakes drake all the beer and they had to get rid of them."
I digress...
Most Open Mic Nights (OMN) I've been to feature local musicians who have varying degrees of talent. Some are veterans of the music scene and some are younguns trying to impress the other musicians. This OMN was no different. As a matter of fact, it was fairly predictable. The "house" band warmed the crowd up with a few tightly played blues tunes and then one of the members called up the first group to perform. Being a drummer myself, it's pretty easy to read the body language of another drummer who's about to play. Before the house band drummer could get off his stool, the next drummer they called up jumps up on stage and starts moving around like he's about to run the 100 meter. He's stretching, loosening up his legs and arms and swinging his head around. I'm guessing this will help him avoid any cramping that might occur. But it's more of a pretext to what's about to be played. Or better yet, "how" it's about to be played.
The keyboard player from the house band remained on stage to play with the first group of Open Mic'ers. He obviously had previously played with this new drummer because he quickly starts barking orders for him to keep the volume down and not to rush things. He might as well be telling Barbaro to jog around the track the first half a mile at the Kentucky Derby. After one of the guest guitarists gave the tempo, it was off to the races and the entire band struggled to keep up. At this point, the house band drummer walks nonchalantly in front of the stage and gives the universal signal for "slow down, dude." I'll give the drummer this much...the guy had some chops, but he had absolutely no meter. Translation: he could play some complicated licks, but couldn't keep a steady tempo.
(Know how to get a drummer off your front porch? Pay him for the pizza.)
There's only one thing worse than a drummer with no meter...a bass player who doesn't know what a 1, 4, 5 blues progression is. I'm not even a bass player - although I can strum a guitar - but I do know that if you can't play a simple blues progression, you probably need to spend a little more time practicing at home in your man cave than at an OMN. The bass and drums are the foundation of the rhythm section of any band. If either one of them suck, the WHOLE band sucks. I don't care if your guitarist could make Steve Vai sound like a hack. If the rhythm section isn't tight, it's just not going to sound very good.
(Know what you call a bass player who just broke up with his girlfried? Homeless.)
When I was a kid, I loved to dance. I even won a dance contest when I was in 7th or 8th grade. But after playing in different bands for a few decades and watching how drunk people dance (especially white, drunk people), I decided a long time ago that I don't like dancing. Obviously, not everyone subscribes to my school of thought on dancing and that's fine with me. The over-40 crowd who dominated OMN this particular night could have made a great advertisement for Viagra or Cialis. Not only does it help those who suffer from ED, but it also seems to help those who can't dance, but do it anyway. I was entertained by an older couple in their 60s who jumped onto the dance floor and danced like they each had their own pole they were humping. This scene was just another reminder of why I don't dance.
After waiting nearly three hours to get the opportunity to play drums with whatever misfits they stuck me with, I decided it was late and I would exceed my self-allotment of beverages if I stayed any longer. I went up to the guy in charge of OMN and told him to take me off the list because I was leaving. He said I was going to be next and to stick around five more minutes. Right after he said this, the band broke into a bluesy version of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida". I said, "No, thanks," and left.
I'm not sure if I'll attend another OMN, but it was nice to get out of the house for an evening of making fun of others. Because we all know that just makes us feel better about ourselves.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Dog Poop...
If there's a vet who can explain the following animal phenomenon to me, please comment below...
How is it possible that you can feed two dogs no more than 2.5 cups of food each day and have 15 pounds of poop in the yard in less than a week? And what causes a dog to wander around the yard while they're pooping???
I love dogs. I really do. But I hate the task of cleaning up the yard every three to five days. We have a BIG back yard, too. Approximately 5,000 square feet of yard. The two dogs, both Portuguese Water dogs, poop in about 4,986 square feet of the yard. But what I've never experienced with any other dog I've ever observed pooping is that these dogs waddle around the yard while they're dropping yard biscuits. What this means is when it's time to clean up the poop, you have to walk a grid pattern in order to have the best odds of doing a thorough job. It's almost like when the Coast Guard is searching for a missing boater who's floating in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, but you don't have the luxury of using a helicopter or an airplane. And your biggest hazard is you miss one of them and step in it! I hate stepping in poop.
Back to the amount of poop...I picked up about 6 lbs of poop (the 15 lbs I mentioned earlier was just hyperbole). And this is fresh poop, not that slightly hardened or white poop that been bleached out by the sun because it's been there for months. Fresh poop! Doing the math in my tiny, little head, it didn't make sense that there could be that much poop in less than a week from two dogs given the amount of food I feed them. I think the dogs must be letting their buddies into the yard and letting them poop here, too. I have no other explanation for it.
But if I catch them doing it, there will be hell to pay!
How is it possible that you can feed two dogs no more than 2.5 cups of food each day and have 15 pounds of poop in the yard in less than a week? And what causes a dog to wander around the yard while they're pooping???
I love dogs. I really do. But I hate the task of cleaning up the yard every three to five days. We have a BIG back yard, too. Approximately 5,000 square feet of yard. The two dogs, both Portuguese Water dogs, poop in about 4,986 square feet of the yard. But what I've never experienced with any other dog I've ever observed pooping is that these dogs waddle around the yard while they're dropping yard biscuits. What this means is when it's time to clean up the poop, you have to walk a grid pattern in order to have the best odds of doing a thorough job. It's almost like when the Coast Guard is searching for a missing boater who's floating in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, but you don't have the luxury of using a helicopter or an airplane. And your biggest hazard is you miss one of them and step in it! I hate stepping in poop.
Back to the amount of poop...I picked up about 6 lbs of poop (the 15 lbs I mentioned earlier was just hyperbole). And this is fresh poop, not that slightly hardened or white poop that been bleached out by the sun because it's been there for months. Fresh poop! Doing the math in my tiny, little head, it didn't make sense that there could be that much poop in less than a week from two dogs given the amount of food I feed them. I think the dogs must be letting their buddies into the yard and letting them poop here, too. I have no other explanation for it.
But if I catch them doing it, there will be hell to pay!
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