Call Me Crazy....

Last night was the start of a five day stretch of what may seem crazy to some, but will most likely rival some of my greatest adventures I've experienced in my lifetime. I may sound like a broken record here talking about my favorite band, but I don't care. They [Dave Matthews Band] were in my town last night so of course I had to attend. Back when I lived in the Great White North, the other groupies and I routinely drove countless hours to see a show. So when the baddest band in the land is playing 20 minutes away from where I lay my head at night, I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't go. Not that I didn't want to go, but in lieu of the events planned during the next four days, I was hesitant at dropping cash on a ticket. Let me explain.

Back in March, I purchased DMB tickets to the St. Paul show as a graduation/birthday gift for my little sister. Even though he's a bum and he doesn't read this fantastic publication, I bought a ticket for my brother as a birthday gift. If I was really cool, I would have bought a ticket for his girlfriend without expecting her to pay me back, but my generosity only goes so far. Maybe I'll buy her a mixed drink before the show. Sorry, I'm getting sidetracked; the point is, we planned on going to this show and it would be a good time blah, blah, blah. That was as far as this story went. The Execl Energy Center show was scheduled as the last stop on the 2010 summer tour. The key word in that last sentence is 'was.' It 'was' the last show of the summer tour until a couple months ago when they added two shows at Wrigley Field. Combo the addition of the Wrigley shows with the band's announcement that there would not be a 2011 tour and the groupies and I decided we had to be in attendance. Shortly after they went on sale, we had a crew of six going to both nights in Chicago. Boom.

As I said before, last night was the Omaha show. I'm leaving in an hour for St. Paul. Tomorrow, Meow is meeting Addy and I in Des Moines and we'll be in Chi-town by 5 PM. Now it's time for you to get out your MLB schedules and see who just happens to be in town playing the rival White Sox. Oh what's that? My defending Central Division Champion Minnesota Twins are wrapping up a three game series versus the south-siders? Well it would just be stupid not to go to that game decked out in Twins gear, obnoxiously drunk, screaming long-time White Sox television broadcaster Ken 'Hawk' Harrelson sayings. I think the game is going to be broadcast on MLB Network so if you don't live in Twins or Sox territory, look for us on the TV.

The Twins magic number is currently at 12 so we can't clinch the division while we are in attendance, but you could imagine what it'd be like if we could. Right? Right? Right? Funny story: I just told the short version of this post to my buddy El DeanYo. This is his response: Wow.. you are doing more this weekend then I've done my entire life. You should write a song about it. Or blog.'

Are You Ready For Some Football?

The National Football League kicks off the regular season tonight with the rematch of last year's NFC Title game. My favorite band will be playing on the pre-game show and my favorite team will be playing in the game. Could be fun.

Aaron Rodgers has fear for the mullet. The rest of the National Football League should get in line.

I love how quickly people have gotten down on the Vikings this year. It's laughable to hear all the people taking a turn to negative town. I'm not even mad though, it's amazing. I'm impressed. I'd like to take the time to point back to last year before the regular season. What were people saying about the Vikings then? I don't recall many people predicting much different than what they are saying now. I think the Vikes came in to last season with more question marks than this year.

Here are the preseason complaints I remember from last year: Sidney Rice was basically an unproven scrub. Percy Harvin was an unproven rookie with chronic migraines. Adrian Peterson had a fumbling problem. Brett Favre was old. Brad Childress was a bad play caller. The secondary was banged up and not very good. Bernard Berrian is just a so-so player.

Here's what I'm hearing this year: Sidney Rice is out. Percy Harvin has chronic migraines. Adrian Peterson has a fumbling problem. Brett Favre is old. Brad Childress is a bad play caller. The secondary is banged up and not very good. Bernard Berrian is still a so-so player. The Vikes don't have a replacement for Chester Taylor.

I'll give you the Chester Taylor argument, that's it. Everything else is the same. Sidney Rice being out for 6-8 weeks is actually better than where we sat last year, since we didn't know he could be an impact player. I don't doubt the Vikings can plug in an unproven scrub, like Rice was last year, and have success, see: Greg Lewis Espy Award. Harvin showed what he is capable of last year. I only see improvement and more involvement in the offense this season. The migraines have been there his entire life and, to me, are a non-factor. Forget about them. Favre is still old. That old guy still managed to put up the best season of his career last year. As for his durability, see: Consecutive Games Started record. I don't like Childress. As long as he doesn't screw up a can't miss power house offense, I'll let him be. Our defense is still one of the best in the National Football League despite whatever our secondary does. No team is perfect, I'll deal. Who cares if Berrian isn't a pro-bowler? See previous statement regarding perfection.

This is what Moss had to say to Vikings haters back in the day. I bid the same to Vikings haters today.

Whew! I'm glad I was able to get that off my chest. Seriously though, I do love how everyone is writing the Vikes off early. Coming in with all the pressure is much tougher. I wonder which team has more pressure tonight. I wonder how long it's been since a Super Bowl Championship team has even won a playoff game the following season. Good luck Saints; you're going to need it.

Although nobody really cares, I have my playoff picks for this season, below. I just want to see how bad they are when the season ends. This way I can easily look back and say 'Cripes! What a bunch of worthless predictions those were!'

NFC East: Cowboys NFC North: Vikings NFC South: Falcons NFC West: 49ers

Wild Card: Packers, Giants

AFC East: Patriots AFC North: Ravens AFC South: Colts AFC West: Chargers

Wild Card: Titans, Jets

Super Bowl: Vikings over the Colts (Peyton becomes Jim Kelly incarnate with the exception of his one SB win)

The End of an Era?

Back in the fall of 2003, an impressionable young man strolled through the University of North Dakota student union on a crisp weekday afternoon, unsuspecting of how his life would soon be changed forever. As a freshman in college, the world was in front of him. No one looking over his shoulder, he was in charge of his own path, determined to make his upcoming life journey a memorable one. He harbored high hopes that one day people would say, 'If that boy's life was posted on the interweb as a readily available free publication, I probably wouldn't read it, but I bet someone might.'

That young man was me. I still remember that day. It was the day I became aware of the fantastic deal that is the $5 large pizza from Little Caesars. Back then, it was a new deal that was only available one day of the week at the UND student union (there was a deal on a different day that had $3 medium pizzas too, I think). When I say it was a 'new deal,' I mean it was new to me, so of course since I hadn't heard of it before, I am making the assumption that it was a new development in the pizza industry, discovered by me. I mean, let's face it, a deal like that isn't going to be around for long before a food lover such as myself discovers it. Natural deductive reasoning suggests that day was probably the first time the $5 large was offered. Worst case scenario, it had been around for a week. I've since eaten so many of those pizzas, it wouldn't be out of the question to say that I was solely responsible for the success and eventual expansion of the $5 large pizza campaign. The $5 large pizzas were soon available anyday, anytime, and they were always hot and ready. You're welcome America.

I remember thinking how it was absolutely mind-blowing that LC could produce and sell a pizza of that size for that price. I know what some of you are thinking and I agree, it's not the greatest pizza in the world. That title is well spoken for and comes with a price, a price well worth it. In the case of LC, it's all about the value. Getting something for great value makes it more appealing and easier to overlook the quality. Don't get me wrong, if you tried to sell me a large pizza covered with dog poo for $1, I wouldn't simply overlook the shit on my pizza and eat it because it's cheap. That is too much of a sacrifice in quality for price to overcome. I'd probably seriously consider it though. Pizza for a dollar? What was I thinking? You can't pass that deal up! That's crazy talk!

Seriously though, the value doesn't excuse a glaring drop in quality, just a slight drop. The LCs large pizzas are fantastic quality considering the price, but there was a separate secret ingredient that, when added, made eating the pizzas more like a religious experience than a regular dinner. Recently, the secret became nothing but a faded memory; a faint, lingering taste in my mouth.

Of course fellow LC lovers know that I am referring to the Spice Paks that were available for patrons to sprinkle, like tiny little specks of delicious, all across the pizza, making a tasty feast for all to enjoy. These bundles of wonderful flavor upgraded the already decent LC pizza to something unmatched by the competition. The seasoning was taking a good meal and making it great. It could only be better if a fresh order of Crazy Bread was added (no marinara sauce needed). Brilliant!

I could write another 1,000 word post on these alone.

Sadly, these Spice Paks have been slowly disappearing over the last few years. It first started in Grand Forks during my senior year. After ordering a hot and ready pizza, I asked for some Spice Paks like I had a thousand times before. Then I heard the words that would haunt me for the rest of my life, well, at least until I left the parking lot, 'Sorry, we don't have Spice Paks anymore.' All I heard was, 'Die die die!'

Surprisingly, life went on. You know the expression depressed losers use, 'Food has lost its taste blah blah blah something about colors are dull.' I kind of felt like that, but just the food part and only for LC pizza. Yet, it was truer for LC pizza than it was for any food I've ever loved. I thought I'd never fully enjoy a hot and ready large again. I say 'fully enjoy' because obviously there was no way I was going to stop enjoying taking advantage of that deal.

A few months passed before I struck gold once again. Sometime when visiting my home town, I indulged in my LC pizza passion. Even though, I hadn't seen one in GF for months, I always asked for the ever so coveted Spice Paks. To my surprise, my wish was granted and all was right with the world once again! The feeling didn't last long. Less than a year later, the B-town LC was out of Spice Paks, for good as it seemed.

Although discouraged and downtrodden, I kept searching. Anytime I saw a different LC, I tried it out in hopes of finding my spice of life. It was hit or miss on the road, I'd like to say 50%, but who knows. It wasn't until I landed a 'real world' job in Omaha that I found a steady supply again. The last two years have been great, but in the back of my mind, I knew a day was coming when the Spice Paks would run out. It happened not too long ago. I thought maybe I'd have to move again to a city where the Spice Paks were untapped. Then I decided to post a tribute to Spice Paks, which you are reading right now, and I found this while looking for a picture.

I don't care about the salmonella! I don't believe it either. I never got sick and I've eaten at least a billion of these paks. True story.

DTP-alooza

Another birthday has come and gone and the earth has now been graced with my presence for over 27 years. It just so happens that a fellow from my office and another fellow on my softball team were celebrating their yearly anniversary of birth the same week as me. The powers that be came together one wet, hot, American summer night and came up with a brilliant idea. We were going to throw a three-way party. Wait.... that doesn't sound so good when talking about three dudes. Let me rephrase. We came up with the idea to throw a party with us three birthday boys as the featured hosts. Within seconds of forming the idea, a mutual friend and professional party planner, offered her services up for free. The wheels were set in motion for what will forever be known as DTP-alooza!

The party planning committee was high in energy and full of enthusiasm. The ideas were flowing all week long, of course all planning took place during non-business hours. There were many party planning luncheons discussing venues, refreshments, activities, music, and invitees. First off, we decided that a cleverly written and well decorated e-vite would be a great way to get the word out and create a minor media buzz (because that's what minor celebrities do). I was going to put a link to the e-vite in this post, but after further review there was some personal info I didn't want leaked all over the world wide interweb, thus I am not linking it. Being the minor celeb that I am, I've got to have at least one bat-shit crazy stalker right? You'll just have to trust me that it was cleverly written and well decorated. I wouldn't lie to you.

It was decided that my house was the ideal locale, mostly because of the decently sized basement/backyard and because I rent. The birthday men supplied a keg of the finest Bud Light money can buy. I also made a special concoction and labeled it DTP's Killer Lemonade. Really, it was just lemonade with a whole bunch of roofies mixed in. Just kidding! There were various amounts of beer, vodka, lemonade, limeade, and sprite mixed together while tasting delicious and allowing one to get glassy eyed fast and in a hurry.

We had these posters plastered all over the entire house as well. 8 different pictures. Collect 'em all!

There was beer pong being played and bags being thrown. There were Jell-O shots being slurped and Yum Fizzy shots being poured. There was music in the air and magic in our hearts. The whole evening was one big, glorious gongshow. The DTP-alooza playlist we created was fantastically epic and there were even some guest DJs screaming over the mic. Later on, Snoop-a-loop performed live and Frank the Tank streaked across the stage and then through the quad and into the gymnasium. Consequently, he didn't make it to the Home Depot the next morning and it goes without saying that there wasn't enough time for Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

I'm going to tell you everything that I remember happening at this fantastic festival of fun: I played and won 2 games of beer pong and I rode down the neighbor kids' slide. That's it.

People began arriving around 7 PM and from what I'm told, I was still kicking when the last person left at 3 AM. All I can say is those must have been some long ass games of beer pong. Also, after several hours of searching the next day, I found my cellular telephone underneath the neighbor kids' slide. All in all, DTP-alooza was a success. Someone left a 12 pack in the basement which made it an even bigger success. Score!

We also had a wavier agreement to sign. Once signed, it was taped to the wall in the basement. Good times.

By signing this document, I ___________, agree not to disclose
any information about the happenings that take place during the DTP-alooza*, or
during any residual happenings that may occur as a direct or indirect result
from the aforementioned event, with any person that did not participate in the
DTP-alooza. This is an agreement that cannot be voided under any
circumstance once signed, as determined by the United States Supreme Court. This
agreement is for the safety** and continued well-being** of all involved
attendees of DTP-alooza 2010. Any breach of this agreement by the signer will be
pursued and punished to the full extent of the law.

Now you have no excuse to hold back. What happens at or
because of DTP-alooza, stays in the DTP-alooza circle of legally bound
trust.

*DTP-alooza is considered an open ended event set to begin on
Saturday, August 7, 2010. It may included up to 4 hours before the official start
time of 5:00 PM CDT and up to 24 hours after the signer leaves the
event.

** Safety and well-being in this case, refer to social safety
and well-being i.e. reputation, image, and the like. The creators of DTP-alooza
are in no way responsible for any physical injuries sustained to the signer of
this agreement.

Pat didn't send us a pic for the e-vite and the name has been changed to protect the innocent.

Rooftop Jams '03: A Mixtape Of All The Queen Songs I Was Really In To In The Summer Of 2003

What a place that New York City is. Those streets made me feel brand new. Those lights did inspire me. Despite the fact that I got in 12 hours later than I was supposed to (thanks Midwest Airlines!), I managed to get over my continuing airline travel curse and have a super swell time. Most of the time it feels good hangin’ with the laid back country folk, but every once in awhile, I like to mix it up and feel the hustle and bustle of the big city. All teams played hard and majorly contributed to what I’m calling a tremendous victory, not only for us travelers, but for the city of New York and all of the people there that were blessed enough to have been touched by our "presence." Why did I put presence in quotes? The answer is because Paul Rudd is my hero. If you are lost right now, go out and rent Role Models and watch it. Hurry up or you’re going to miss more references. Anyway, back to the people that were touched, even though you didn’t say thank you, we know you are grateful. You are welcome.

Look at Ant's Nose Neighbor. It was a conversation piece. Sample dialogue: Have you seen my friend with the mustache?

The trip provided much entertainment from top to bottom, but there are a few things that stick out and might be worth sharing. Obviously, I must think my life is fantastically entertaining or I wouldn’t keep an entire blog dedicated to, as my boy SSWY put it, spinning epic tales of grand adventure. Some people may think they aren't worth sharing. Maybe you don't want to read. That's the beauty of free will, you control what you do. Sometimes I want to be from Vermont and have an emerging maple syrup conglomerate and, at least in my own mind, that can be true. The point is, you can read this or close the window, the choice is yours. Do you think I care if anyone reads this? Ok, you got me, I really, really do. What can I say? I have low self esteem. Can you tell that I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night? I’ve been listening to Come on Elieen by Kevin Rowland and Dexy’s Midnight Runners on repeat for the entire work day; that should give you some kind of indication of the shape I’m in. At four and half minutes per play, I’d say that today I’ve heard it roughly 87 times and counting. With that, I’ll segue in to spinning some epic mini-tales of grand adventure.

Addy, DC, Ant, and I after Friday's show

I previously mentioned that I was most excited about makin’ sweet plays on the Great Lawn. We did put on a quite a clinic for those watching. Hitting the cut-off man, gunning down imaginary runners, and throwing wicked breaking pitches were all activities that made the Makin' Plays: The Great Lawn Story documentary. We couldn’t really make as many plays as we wanted due to time constraints, temperature constraints, and old washed up arm constraints, but we made the best of what’s around.

Couldn't have been too hot. I kept the sweater vest on

The Jimmy Fallon taping was cool to see live. The highlight of the show, aside from JLoveH talking about happy endings and us repping our favorite ballclub on national TV, was Addy and Ant getting their cameras confiscated for breaking the ‘no pictures in the studio’ rule. While Addy thought he could be pretty sneaky (or snakey) and snap a pic ninja style during the JLH interview, he was sadly mistaken. As soon as he took the pic and thought he was in the clear, I assured him that one of the thirty-seven security guys scanning the crowd with hawk-like prowess saw him. Sure enough, during the next break the iPhone was confiscated. Ant was a little less discrete when he attempted his photo. The show was over and people were leaving when an announcement reminded us to keep cell phones put away until we exited the studio. Ant thought that meant he could take out his actual camera and take a picture; this was not a correct assumption. When the security guys yelled out, ‘Swarm!!’ Ant just held the camera out so they could take it from him. They didn’t take it since the show was over, but they did stand there and watch as Addy and Ant deleted the pictures from their respective electronics.

Of course he's in a 3-point stance

The concerts were great, as always. Zac Brown opened both nights and surprised us with a little Rage Against the Machine cover. I think they could switch musical genres without skipping a beat. That boy has some anger he needs to let out and the crowd was going nuts, especially considering the headliner wasn’t going to be on stage for another hour. The baddest band in the land delivered some quality music and we all sweated through our clothes multiple times. Our crew was pretty close the 2nd night.

Dave and the boys doin' their thing

One of the random things we ended up doing was attending a comedy show at a supposed famous place where the likes of Murphy, Seinfeld, Rock, and Sandler used to play. We weren’t expecting much and only bought the tickets because A) they were $10 and B) there was a chance the dude that wears a trucker hat from 30 Rock would show up for a set. I just remembered, the bar across the street from the club happened to have $1 beers all night. That may have slightly influenced our decision. Random decision number one of the trip turned out to be a good one. We saw several good acts and one fantastic set by a finalist on Last Comic Standing, and our boy from 30 Rock showed up. The only bad thing (which makes it a better story) is that there was a two drink minimum and the prices were like that of a strip club (or Yankee game). Beer was the cheap item on the menu at $10 each; mixed drinks were going for $15. Long story short, Ant was double fisting, yadda yadda yadda, he was mildly upset when his bill arrived.

You could get a whole bunch of Mums

I'll wrap this up with a particularly strange event that happened during our grand adventures. One night after the show, we got back to the hotel around 12:30 to change and head back out, taking advantage of the 4 AM bar close time. When in Rome, right? We end up at some dive bar right around the corner. Ant strikes up a convo with a random kid, meanwhile I'm running out of gas at an incredible rate. Next thing I know, bar had closed, we all had 6-packs, and were sitting on the rooftop of the random kid's apartment listening to every song in Queen's catalog, while watching the sunrise. Also, the random kid was absolutely rocking out, by himself, to every single song. He was just off in his own little world strutting around the roof, while three strangers watched, dancing his face off to his iPod, from which he was exclusively playing Queen, for about two solid hours. Yes, he was extremely high and entertainment was had by all.

In case you can't read the fine print:

-That's definitely a dude

-It can't be

-It's not

-Who cares?

Big Citi Living

These next few days have the potential to be great. In a few hours I'm leavin' on a jet plane and, unlike LeBron James, I'm taking my talents to New York. On the agenda for this trip: 2 dmb shows at Citi Field, 1 baseball game at Yankee Stadium, 1 taping of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon at 30 Rock, and the making of an educational documentary film called Makin' Plays: The Great Lawn Story on Central Park's Great Lawn. I am not sure which event I'm more excited for. The same trio of characters as the 2009 Boston 4th of July extravaganza are partaking, with a special guest appearance by DC. We proved three wasn't a crowd last year. It was actually a freakin' blast of epic proportions. Adding one more to our crew can only help the situation, right? Of course. All you need is a great attitude and unlimited enthusiasm. I'm an idea man and I thrive on enthusiasm.

Remember when I said I wasn't sure about which event I was more excited for? I lied. Concerts and ballgames are fun and all, but I'm really pumped to be out on the Great Lawn makin' some sick plays. Flashing the leather on the Great Lawn is one of the best activities anyone could ever participate in. I've got my ball glove ready and there'll definitely be shades of JT Snow out there on the Great Lawn. I've also decided that I like saying/typing the words Great Lawn. I'm not sure why we even booked a hotel room. I'd be happy to camp out under the stars on the Great Lawn. The park can't be as scary as it is portrayed in Home Alone 2. That bird lady still gives me nightmares. I don't care if she ended up making friends with Kevin McCallister. She made Harry and Marv look like something right out of Disney.

Isn't it breath-taking?

Ant landed there this morning and has already sent me a Time's Square pic. Addy was supposed to be there with him this morning, taking the red-eye from PHX to ATL to JFK last night, which brings me to a little story about karma. Addy is notorious for cutting it close when traveling by air. He usually arrives 7 minutes prior to departure and somehow checks in, gets through security, and gets in a front row seat in 6.5 minutes. Also, his flights are never delayed for any reason, even this past Christmas his plane somehow landed in Bemidji during a blizzard white-out hell storm, while two years ago, my plane circled Bemidji with clear skies and flew back to MSP. After his most recent demonstration of this behavior, I expressed my concern for how long his good luck with air travel would last. Here are some texts I received from him today.

12:25 AM: Damn. Just missed my HOTlanta flight

12:41 AM: Actually my 80 min Phx delay did all the work for me

12:46 AM: Any chance to catch my ATL flight when I land 15 minutes after it takes off?

12:47 AM: Could make up some serious time on a 5 hour flight, right?

12:50 AM: My iPhone flight update app had it delayed hours ago. Delta.com still doesn't know.

1:57 AM: They're sending me home (in a cab I'm paying for). And coming back tomorrow. See you at 3 pm big apple. @#!* this.

1:51 PM: Wheels down in the city that only sleeps on Sundays!

See how quickly he got his enthusiasm back? That's why we need the Big Guy there. See you soon fellas!

Star Island: Sandy Beaches Where Dreams Are Made Of

Last weekend was the one year anniversary of the best weekend of my life (day 1, day 2, days 3-4). Although I knew this weekend would be a great one, it's difficult to avoid comparing all my future weekends to last year's Boston Excursion, which surpassed any possible expectations and was truly magical in nature. That being said, it's also hard to have a bad time on the 4th of July. Especially if you know of a little place called Assssssssspin, where the beer flows like wine and the women flock like the salmon of Capistrano. Wait... I mean if you know a little place called Star Island on the great Cass Lake. Myself, along with a few of my cohorts made the trip to 'sota for an old fashioned good time.

My boy Addy, was flying in to our old college town of Grand Forks on Friday and hitching a ride with SSWY, his lovely wife, and their two dogs. From the outside that looks like nice little family and friends trip. The two dogs in this nice little family and friends trip happen to be English Bulldogs. Duke and Dora used to look like this, but now they look more like this. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating a tad. I'm just saying, they are bigger than they used to be, and Addy might have been a little cramped riding bitch with these two pups lounging in the backseat with him. I was driving up from OmaHuh on Friday and, being the adventurous type that I am, decided that I would go up slightly out of my way to GF to meet my friends, see the old town, eat some greatly missed cuisine, and convoy back to B-town with the crew. So instead of heading east at Fargo, I continued north with visions of grinders and cheese tostadas dancing in my head.

The dogs used to fit in the sink. Not so much anymore. Is there anyone sitting on that chair? I can't tell.

Once I arrived, I only had to fulfill a couple of SSWY's husband duties as he was working (run errands with the wife and take the dogs for a walk) before I could enjoy the simple greatness that is the Red Pepper. Unfortunately, we had to pick-up Addy at the airport before I could take full advantage of my fill-in husband duties (ho ho just kidding Lindsey!). As we said goodbye to the married kids, who were in a bigger hurry to get back home than us two swingin' bachelors, we pondered where this night was heading. After some quick BWWs, we headed to a favorite watering hole called Judy's to meet an acquaintance from Addy's schooling years. Soon, hours had passed by in what seemed like minutes, as we talked and laughed the night away with funny stories, past and present. All good things must come to an end, so we said our goodbyes and headed over to the Red Pepper. Yes, again. Addy hadn't even been there yet and I wasn't going to deny him of some delicious grinder goodness because I had previously eaten there six hours prior! Plus it was after midnight, so it wasn't like I had it twice in one day or anything (As if that even matters? Why do I feel like people are judging me like I broke some kind of law?). I like to eat turkey grinders with taco meat, doused in red and white sauce. Deal with it.

We made a safe journey home where I dropped Addy at his folks' place before returning to my folks' place. What a nice surprise I had waiting for me upon my arrival home. The bed I normally sleep in was occupied. So, there I was left with a pull-out, but not just any ordinary pull-out. It is a single pull-out, probably the only one ever made due to it's ridiculously small size. A seven year old kid might fit on this thing, maybe if he didn't have legs. By the time I actually tried to go to sleep, it was 5 AM and the sun was coming up on a beautiful Saturday morning.

The next day was a nice little Saturday even without a Home Depot visit. I'd say the highlights were spending some time on the lake, meeting some friends out, and dominating some pizza from Dave's. The pizza was by far the best part of the day. I'm saying that despite the hours I spent flying across Lake Bemidji on a jet-ski. Flying. The wind was really tossing my watercraft around out there. I'm just giving you an idea of how good the pizza is. If it can beat the greatest water sport activity ever invented, it's gotta be goooooood.

On America's birthday, I began the day eating a wonderfully prepared meal of brats, corn, beans, snicker salad, cheesy potatoes, and beer; not a bad way to start off the greatest day in American history. Addy and I were ready for Dad to take us out to Star Island. (Background story: Dad, in this scenario, is neither Addy's nor my dad. Dad is a friend of ours that acts a lot like our dads. He takes us fishing and hunting, drives us around if we've been drinking, plays darts with us, and takes us to Star Island. In lieu of this, we call him Dad and he calls both of us his sons.) Just like a good Dad always comes through, so did our Dad on this glorious day of American pride.

Many people from the Great White North know of the island that is called Star. I am proud to say I am one of them, and I frequent the beautiful place any chance I can. For those of you who don't know, let me paint a word picture. Imagine, for a second, a sandy beach tucked in a cove on an island. Imagine walking in knee to waist deep water, feeling nothing but sand between your toes, as the waves gently crash upon the shore. Imagine 100+ boats pulling up to the shoreline and anchoring for a day of sun soaking and partying with friends and strangers alike, as time crawls slowly by, hour after fun-filled hour. Imagine jet-skis, water-skis, beach games, music, and best of all - young girls in bikinis, stretching as far as down as the shore will allow. Imagine a place where smiles are infinite and dreams become reality. That is the place we spent our 4th of July, and it was simply amazing. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there is something about being on the water that makes me realize how good life is and where my home truly is. I love that place.

What happens on Star Island, stays on Star Island. Except for swimmer's itch. That shit'll come back with you. -Addy D