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Thursday, January 5, 2012

Jellyfish Facts


Fact:  A group of jellyfish are called a smack.

Fact:  Jellyfish are not made out of jelly and should not be put on bread with peanut butter.

Fact:  Jellyfish should not be trusted.  They swim in their own poo.

Fact:  The Box Jellyfish has 64 anuses.

Fact:  Jellyfish are 95% water, some are even up to 98%!

Fact:  Some Jellyfish are 96-97% water.....we don't care about those ones.

Fact:  In Super Mario Bros. the Jellyfish is a dangerous enemy. 



The WI X-Files

Settle in my friends as I spin a trilogy of terror for you.  Three (true?) tales of the northwoods of Wisconsin.  It starts like this….
ACT I:  The Paulding Light
About half an hour from where I’m staying is the town of Eagle River.  A simple little piece of Americana with 4th of July parades, homecoming queens and apple pie.   But
 there’s something else……..mysterious lights that linger in the night skies  north of
Eagle River.

Although some local people claim to have seen the strange lights over a long period of time, the first reported sighting was in 1966. A carload of teen-agers had stopped one clear evening along a swampy area of the old Military Road called Dog Meadow. Suddenly light filled the car's interior and lit the power lines paralleling the road. The frightened young people fled to report their experience to the sheriff. Since that time, many have witnessed the phenomenon, but none can explain it.

Local lore spins haunting legends.  Some say that one night, about forty years ago, a railroad switchman, lantern in hand, was crushed to death between two cars while attempting to signal the train's engineer.   Others say that an engineer was murdered along the old railroad grade where the lights appear.  A third story tells of a mail carrier and his sled dogs that were mysteriously slain a hundred years ago at Dog Meadow. (WEEEEEEOOOO!!!!)
The lights appear near the scenes of these various alleged tragedies and are thought to be connected with them. The lights can be seen on almost every clear night in all seasons of the year.

One motorist, coming up over the crest of the gravel road that runs parallel to the old abandoned track bed, faced a golden bull's eye and, thinking it to be a one-eyed car, pulled off the road to avoid a head-on collision.  There was no car.  (DUN DUN DUN!!!)
      
On a frigid winter evening, a group of snowmobilers came upon the light. Not knowing what to make of it and badly frightened, they tried to surround it, to no avail. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
On another night, a drunken fellow from Eagle River shot at the light but it disappeared first.
I’ve personally been told stories that people have witnessed the Grim Reaper wondering the woods where the lights have shown.  Perhaps the Reaper and the Railroad Switchman have some unfinished business.  (BOO!)

ACT II:  Witches Lake
There’s a lake called Witches Lake.  I guess it’s creepy.

ACT III:  Summerwind
Less than an hour away from Minocqua is the remains of the most disturbing twisted tale of the macabre.  Summerwind Mansion is a ruined mansion on the shores of West Bay Lake.  It is believed to be the most haunted location in all of Wisconsin.  Abandonment, fire and death have left little of the always tragic but once beautiful home. 
In the north woods of Wisconsin, not far from the shores of West Bay Lake, there stands a burned out hollow of a building once known as Summerwind Mansion. Nature has almost thoroughly reclaimed the ruins of the once grandiose estate, wrapping leaves and vines around the remaining chimneys and stone terrace. In 1988, when several strokes of lightening struck the already long-abandoned mansion, reducing it to ash and cinders, nobody in the immediate vicinity mourned much. Beautiful as it had been, Summerwind had been the Spooky Old House that Nobody Dared Go To for nearly fifty years. Every attempt to restore the house had been abandoned, and contractors often outright refused to set foot on the property upon learning of its location.
The mansion was already in a state of serious disrepair when Ginger Hinshaw happened upon it in 1970. What started out as an innocent day trip to a local haunted house quickly turned into an obsession. Ginger fell in love with the sadly neglected home and soon had her second husband Arnold infatuated as well. The couple bought the house and moved in with their six children, planning to restore the place to its previous majesty. But their efforts were not rewarded. Upon removing a shoe drawer from a closet, Arnold discovered a crawlspace hidden behind it, too small for him to investigate. Upon sending his daughter into the tiny space, a mummified human skeleton was discovered, its skull still covered in long black hair. For reasons unknown, the Hinshaw’s did not remove the corpse, nor did they alert the authorities. Ginger later reported that the body had disappeared when she and her brother went to retrieve it several years later.
Shortly after the discovery of the body, Arnold began to exhibit signs of severe mental deterioration. Formerly a loving husband and father, he turned into a bullying tyrant who spent the long nights playing sinister dirges on the pipe organ and even going to far as to slaughter a family pet as punishment for his children’s perceived disobedience. His transformation into a reclusive maniac led to the loss of his job and the family’s plunge into despair. The heat and electricity were shut off. Ginger made a suicide attempt. Finally, six months after having moved into the home, Ginger’s father collected his daughter and grandchildren and the house was abandoned. Arnold was sent to an insane asylum and was never heard from again.
Vowing never to set foot back on the property, Ginger nevertheless took an interest in the paranormal and began studying the field. In 1972, despite her angry pleas, Ginger’s father purchased Summerwind as a fixer-upper project for his son Ray, recently returned from Vietnam. Ray, like his father, was a staunch skeptic when it came to ghosts, but his tenure at Summerwind was far shorter than his sister’s. After hearing phantom gunshots in the kitchen and witnessing a full form apparition materialize in the basement doorway, Ray too abandoned the property, shaken to the core. A few weeks later, he agreed to allow his sister hypnotize him for a common nail-biting problem. Once under however, Ray underwent a complete change of personality, morphing into a powerfully pissed off tyrant of a man who insisted that Summerwind was his property, no others need apply.
Research into the history of the property revealed a once famous explorer named Jonathan Carver, who had once settled a dispute between two warring Native American nations and claimed to have been granted the northern Wisconsin territories by the grateful Indians. It was rumored that the land deed was secreted away on the property, and that this was the reason for the haunting, but no such document ever surfaced. Originally constructed as a fishing lodge in 1916, Summerwind’s servants had complained that the house was haunted even then. The owners – Mr. and Mrs. Robert Lamont – paid no heed to the stories and continued to live in the mansion until the mid 1930s, when they suddenly abandoned it. According to legend, Robert and his wife were startled one night by an apparition in the basement doorway, at which Mr. Lamont fired with his revolver. The bullet holes could still be clearly seen up until the 1980s, when the door suddenly went missing, no doubt stolen by over eager legend trippers.
Abandoned for the remainder of the 1970s, Summerwind was again purchased in the mid 80s and restoration again commenced. However, contractors remained reluctant and the process was slow going. Strange phenomena was reported by the new owners and the mansion’s reputation soured all the more. Then came 1988, and the fateful lightening storm which leveled the house in fiery display of Heavenly Judgment.




In 2005, the story of the Summerwind Mansion was turned into a one hour docudrama for the Discovery Channel series “A Haunting.” The majority of the haunting of Summerwind seems to rest solely on the eyewitness accounts of the Hinshaw family, whom some claim were simply cashing in on the notoriety of the property, much as the Lutz family was accused of doing in 1977 with the release of the book “The Amityville Horror.”, their collaborative effort with Jay Anson. But those who make the long, lonely trek to the ruins still claim to experience strange phenomena, ghostly noises and paranormal side effects. Any proof of Jonathan Carver’s existence most likely went up in flames twenty years earlier, in the freak fire that reduced the once gorgeous palace to a mere spooky legend.
(MWAH HA HA HA!!!)  ß---That’s an evil laugh.

I promise the next post will be more "fun".  : )

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

The Birds & The Beatles


Tonight I’m loading all of The Beatles albums onto my computer for my son.  My son is a fan of The Beatles.  Being 6 years old his favorite song is ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.’  I couldn’t be more proud.  Raising a child is fun, exciting and scary.  When he was born I would play Beatles songs for him.  The first song he ever “danced” to was ‘Me and My Monkey’ by The Beatles. 
Over the last couple of years he has gotten smarter and more inquisitive.  He’s asked his mother and I about where babies come from.  Not so much how their made but rather how they come out.  He says there are two ways to get a baby out.  #1 is to cut them out and the mommy needs stitches.  I’m not sure how he learned that.  He wasn’t sure about the other way.  I cringed when he asked me to explain.  I wasn’t prepared to have that kind of talk until he was older.   I fumbled through a vague explanation.
I remembered my father having “the talk” with me.  He waited until I was seventeen.  I assured him he was a little late in filling me in on how that all worked.  Luckily my son just wanted to know how to get the baby out, not how to get it in.  He had already explained to me that if a mommy wants a baby she just eats a lot so her tummy gets big.  I agreed.
As my son gets older I will have to decide when to have “the talk” with him.  Until then, I can be a proud father passing down the knowledge of great music like The Beatles.  It's still, "Me and My Monkey" and Lucy is still just a girl dancing in the sky with diamonds.

Does this Blog Make My Butt Look Fat?

It's that time of year again when we make New Years Resolutions.  I'm guessing a lot of people decided to work off the holiday pounds and that this year will be the year to get in shape.  I remember a couple of years ago when I was really into working out and watching what I consumed.  The gym I went to became obnoxiously overcrowded with new members.  I was happy to see the new faces but not as thrilled to share the equipment.  The past two years I've tried to stay motivated to work out or at least stay active.  Beer, tasty food, and lots of late nights at work have lured me into a trap.  I was down to 130lbs at one point (my high school weight).  Also, probably not a safe weight for a 30 year old male.


So many sexual innuendos here.

On the advice of my wife I lessened my strict diet.  She (as always) was right.  I put a little weight back on and felt even better!  Shortly after that I broke my year and a half committment to no alcohol, no sugar, no meat, no fast food, and no caffiene.  It wasn't so hard to just have a little at first.  But then, you realize it's a whole lot more fun to indulge.  Soon instead of leaving work and going sraight to the gym or kayaking I was going home with burgers and beer.  My motivation was lost.  Apparently what I forgot when I was on my diet, is that food and beer are really tasty.  They also go good together. 




88% of all people that make New Years Resolutions give them up within the first month.  This year for my New Years Resolution I'm growing a handlebar moustache, wearing a singlet, and lifting those round weights that Russian Muscle Men from the old timey photos would use.  My goal isn't to be skinny or even healthy.  It's to be a tough looking 1920's era muscle man.  I want to wrestle aligators, walk with my chest puffed up, proudly display a big moustache!  I may challenge random people to some fistacuffs, take up cigar chewing (not smoking, just chew on them real mean like), and drink from bottles with XX's on them.  I will diet on steak and the tears of pretty boys.  I will say things like, "BULLY" and wear a bowler hat.  I will crawl through the mud under barbed wire (did it) and jump over flames (did it).  I naming it right now, 2012 will be known as the year of the manly man!

Now if you excuse me, I'm going to punch mix some concrete with my bare hands. 

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Who made this mess???

Lesson #1 on living alone.  You are to blame for any and all messes.  Who's to blame when the dishes aren't done?  Who's to blame when laundry's not done?  Who's to blame for the beer can pyramid tipping over?  YOU!  That's it, nobody else to blame here. 

Now I don't mean to sound like I did everything at home, but I did like to claim I did everything at home.  When a friend or relative would come over I could simply say, "Ugh, sorry about this mess.  My wife is such a bastard."  Even if it wasn't her fault, I had to give the impression that I kept my house in order (i watch a lot of MAD MEN).  Even if it was just the two of us at home I could always claim that I had just done the dishes and it was her turn.  She was so busy raising our child, working, making dnner, and cleaning all the things guys don't know about (dusting? what's that?) to remember if she did the dishes or not. 

I finally figured it out, that's why we get married.  Now hear me out.  Men aren't mentally capable of taking care of ourselves.  We NEED women to dress us, feed us and keep our surroundings clean.  If it wasn't for my wife I'd be wearing adidas workout pants and a Foo Fighters t-shirt 6 days a week.  One the 7th day, Vikings jersey.  She makes me dress slightly better (or at least change clothes more often).  Also, if not for wives, men would eat from gas stations only.  The fridge would be used for beer only and the oven for storing the dirty dishes we no longer had room for.  I would eat chuckwagan sandwiches from the gas station for most meals.  Wives make us eat healthier because they want to keep us around longer (and they don't want us morbidly obese).  Now that my wife is 6 hours away I'm expected to dress myself, clean up after myself & make good food choices.  Does this sound a little like a mom sending her kid off to college?

Tonight both my wife and mother would be happy to know at age 32 I finally learned my lesson.  I'm proud to say that tonight, the dishes are done.  I ate a proper meal.  And my Vikings jersey is mostly clean.

Bleeding Purple

Kendall & Dad, Vikings Fans!
Minnesota is known for being Minnesota Nice and our sports fans are just that as well.....nice.  I love Minnesota Vikings Football, Minnesota Twins Baseball and we have some other teams too (and a WNBA Championship).  Minnesota sports fans have never come off as diehards.  We have a lot of fairweather fans.  It doesn't matter if it's football, baseball or hockey (really, we still have a basketball team?). 

When I announced my move to Wisconsin a lot of friends acted as though I was in danger of becoming a Packers Fan.  It would make sense.  The Vikings did horrible this year (again) and the Packers are on their way to the Super Bowl (again).  So there is an idea that I had enough and said, "See ya later Suck Town!  I'm moving to where the Champs are Mwahahahah!!!"  However, that's not the case.  I still hate the Packers and it's difficult to see Packers fans and propaganda everywhere all day.  But, Minnesota fans just aren't as diehard as the Packers fans.  I'll give them credit.  Have you ever seen Green Bay, WI???  People live there just to be close to the team.  Just to live in the experience of Lambeau Field.  Some of these peoples lives revolve around the team.  I'm sure children have been conceived and named after Packers players.  To the state of Wisconsin an Packers fans around the globe, my hat off to you.  But no worries Minnesota brothers and sisters.  I am a Vikings fan.  I'm too dumb to know otherwise.  They're in my blood.  I bleed purple.  SKOL.
That's right Packer Fans....I'm wearing a Favre Vikings jersey!

Minocqued Up.....an unexpected adventure.

Greetings web travelers!  My dynamic journey of self discovery and adventure starts with a move from my warm comfortable surroundings of Northern Minnesota to a far away and magical land called WISCONSIN! 

(FLASH OF LIGHT as the clouds part from the skies and we see an overhead map of the midwest!)  (In an Indiana Jones style red line showing the route from Northern Minnesota a full 6 hours to the East to Northern Wisconsin) 

That's right, I've landed in "Wisconsin" is the English spelling of a French version of a Miami Indian name for the river that runs 430 miles through the center of our state. Recent scholarship has concluded that in Miami it meant, "this stream meanders through something red."  That's right, I'm in the land that has a river that slowly takes it's sweet ass time wondering through "something red." 

"Something Red."  Wow, beautiful.  The Wisconsin people have an amazing, poetic way with their words.

Anyways, I've relocated to Minocqua, WI to run a Papa Murphy's Take n Bake Pizza restaurant.  Did I just spell restaurant correctly?  Oh well, no one will notice.  Minocqua is known as the Island City (or something, I'm not fact checking here).  There are lakes and trees and stuff everywhere.  I wonder what the Native American word for "there are lakes and trees and stuff everywhere" would be?  It's probably how they came up with about half the names of things around here.  Also, that might be lyrics for the America song, "Horse With No Name."  Here are the actual lyrics, "There were plants and birds and rocks and things, There was sand and hills and rings."  Yup, sounds like a 1st grader's report about a class trip to the dessert.

So, I'm alone in Minocqua, WI while my family is back in sunny Bemidji, MN.  I miss them dearly but we decided to roll the dice and take the risk on this move.  My family should be joining me in the spring or "after the thaw" as hillbillies say.  This is a huge change.  Something I won't forget.  This will challenge me as a person, a husband & a father.  To be away from my family and trying to lay the brickwork for a new start for us is testing.  But, I am ready to meander through something red.