Before I get to the topic of the day, I must first make a confession... My name is Clifton and I admit that I am powerless over my obsessive grammatical compulsions. When I started this blog I thought, "Hey, this is not for a grade, it is simply for my own enjoyment. So, I'm going to give myself permission to be sloppy and occasionally misspell a word, end a sentence with a preposition, use too many contractions, and have a total disregard for proper grammar and punctuation". Well, that honestly only lasted for about one and a half submissions. Since then, I have obsessed over all of the little imperfections I left in my blogging wake. Although I seriously doubt anyone has cared or even noticed, I have gone back through my previous posts and made all of the necessary corrections. Now that I have assuaged my guilt, I can get down to the business of the day with a clear conscience.
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I have never condoned the consumption of energy drinks. I have always been a coffee man and never really had much interest in all of those high octane concoctions, that are now on the market. I tried a couple of Red Bulls in the past but honestly, I was not impressed. Although, I will say the can was the perfect size to patch the exhaust leak on my tractor. At any rate, I did not particularly care for the flavor and I thought I could get a better jolt from a strong cup of Maxwell House. Having said all that, I will admit to being a little curious, simply based on the fact I have observed so many college students literally drink gallons of these products.
About a week ago, some of my fellow students and I had an early conference meeting with one of our professors. I had been up late the night before and my normal cup of java just wasn't cutting it. This was not a meeting where I could afford having too much of that early morning "fuzz brain" so I went in search of a little pick-me-up. I didn't have a lot of time so I just hit the nearest vending machine. As I stared at my options, I had a choice between soft drinks, diet soft drinks, water, and the infamous MONSTER DRINK. I knew that a regular Coke wasn't going to do much for me, so I bit the bullet, succumbed to my curiosity and dialed up a MONSTER DRINK. I quickly popped the top and took a sip of my purchase, halfway expecting to suddenly feel the earth move. Of course it didn't. In fact, I made the comment to one of my classmates that it didn't seem like much more than a Mountain Dew on steroids.
About 15-20 minutes later, our meeting was in full swing and I had knocked back about half of my MONSTER DRINK. All of a sudden, I started feeling kind of warm. I didn't think much of it at first because there were about a dozen of us crammed into a small room, plus it's summer time in Texas. So, I took a big ol' swig of my MONSTER DRINK, thinking it might cool me off a little. As I sat there, I kept getting warmer and warmer and before I knew what was going on, I had broken out into a full on, shirt drenching sweat! So I'm sitting there, calmly and politely listening to my professor and I a start thinking to myself, "Hmmm....maybe this MONSTER DRINK has a little more kic....Oh Wait! What on earth is that buzzing sound?!! Why did the professor start talking sooo sloooooowly?!! I mean, she ALWAYS talks way faster than I care to listen... Speed it up woman! I've got things to do today!! And dadburnit!...where is that cotton-pickin' buzzing sound coming from?!! Whew! Okay, just take a deep breath...calm down...easy does it.....I can do this. Hold on! Why are my testicles playing leap-frog across my lap? That's weird...and why are Misty's testicles playing leap-frog across HER lap?!!! Whoa! Misty is a girl! What is she doing with testicles?!!....Okay, so maybe that's George... But we don't have a "George"!!!......and would somebody PLEASE tell me, what in the name of John Wayne's butt is that buzzing sound?!!! .......Ohcoolsomebody'splayingSteppenwolf .....BOOORRRNNN TO BE WIIIIYUUULLD!!!!..... Hurry it up there prof, I gotta dollar waiting on a dime here!!....... I AM MONSTER, HEAR ME ROAR!!!..... And I want a new Long John Silver pirate hat and a secret decoder ring!.....Maybe I could use it to stop that STINKIN' BUZZING SOUND!"
I have no recollection of the events that followed, but my wife said she found me about 14 hours later, huddled in a dark corner in the back of my horse trailer. She said when she found me, I was curled up in the fetal position, rocking back and forth and crying. She also said that I kept moaning over and over, "Somebody please make it stop!.... I promise I will never do it again!......I'm built for comfort, not speed!........somebody, anybody, please help me!" All I know is, when I finally came to my senses and stepped out of that horse trailer, all of my finger and toe nails had been gnawed down to the quick, my yard had been mowed and edged, all of the flower beds had been weeded, all of our cars had been washed and waxed, and the tires on all of them had been rotated. Furthermore, all of my horses had been shampooed and now had all of their manes and tails nicely braided and tied up with pretty little multi-colored bows. I guess I had done that in an effort to match the psychedelic, speed-filled haze I was in at the time. So, now you know why I keep typing "MONSTER DRINK" in all caps. It is definitely a product to be reckoned with!
Although that day was a bit traumatic, the doctor said he expects I will gradually make a full recovery. He said that the little spasmodic tics in my right eye are a completely normal reaction, after being exposed to a highly toxic substance. He told me not to worry, and that the tics should subside in a few months. So from a health standpoint, I'm really not that worried. There is one thing that still kind of concerns me though. I always carry a small electric razor in my backpack. I occasionally use it on those long days at school, whenever I might need to freshen up a bit. Anyway, I cleaned out my backpack a few days after the now infamous MONSTER DRINK incident and I was very disturbed when I came across my razor. It had been smashed to bits, after someone had drawn a fu manchu mustache and written the words "Die George Die!" on it. I'm wondering, who would do such a thing?!! Incidentally, the rims and tires from a Hyundai Elantra look pretty ridiculous on an F-250 crew-cab, long bed, 4x4....just sayin'...
Daily Clifton-ism:
What I think of you, is way more important to me than what you might think of me.
Darn Good Grub:
Clifton's Chili
2 - lbs ground beef
1 - Finely chopped large white onion
1 - 30 oz. can tomato sauce
1 - Large can of stewed tomatoes (approx. 30 oz) drained and then diced by hand
1- 4.5 oz. can of chopped green chiles
4 - TBSP chili powder
1 - TBSP garlic powder
1 - TBSP. garlic salt
1 - TBSP ground cumin (comino)
1 - TBSP cayenne pepper
1 - TBSP paprika
Add finely chopped onion to ground beef and brown, then strain.
After straining meat, put all ingredients into a large pot on low heat and occasionally stir until ready to serve. You can serve immediately, but the longer it simmers, the better it gets!
Clifton's Cast Iron Cornbread
1 1/2 - cups yellow corn meal
3 - TBSP all purpose flour
1 1/2 - tsp baking soda
1 - tsp salt
2 - tsp sugar
*** 1 1/2 - tsp sage (optional)
2 - eggs
2 - cups buttermilk
2 - TBSP shortening
Sift together all dry ingredients.
Add buttermilk and eggs to dry ingredients and stir.
Melt shortening in a medium cast-iron skillet at 450 degrees.
Add melted shortening to batter and stir.
Pour batter into hot skillet and bake at 450 degrees for 20-25 minutes.
*** If you want a little more of an exotic flavor, then add the 1 1/2 tsp of sage to dry ingredients.
Message from God:
One of the best ways to resist temptation, is to avoid temptation.
Words of Wisdom from Grandmother:
Never go to bed mad at your spouse. Always give them the slightest touch; a peck on the cheek, a pat on the shoulder, etc. when you go to bed, to let them know that deep down where it really counts, everything is going to be alright.
As always, thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the story and/or found something here of use. Incidentally, if you happen to make one of the above recipes and don't like it, let me know. My kids and I can eat our weight in this stuff, so we would gladly come take it off your hands! Have a terrific day! CHJ
Friday, September 20, 2013
Friday, September 13, 2013
Melancholy Baby
I am going to apologize now for any apparent whining I may do from this point forward... The title of this entry alludes to the fact I have felt melancholy all day. For those of you who care enough to wonder why, it's because in a couple of very short hours my baby turns thirteen. I can't believe it! How did it happen?!! THIRT-STINKIN'-TEEN!!! I know it sounds like a worn out, re-treaded cliche' to talk about how fast time flies, but I can't help it.
I remember what seemed like a couple of days ago, I was praying and patiently waiting for the right girl to come along so we could get married, pop out some kids and live happily ever after. I am happy to say that God answered my prayers! I met that girl, we got married, popped out the kids and 21 years later, I'm still on my "starter marriage". (Not bad considering I married up!) I remember when the little woman and I got hitched, it seemed like all of our other newlywed friends were having tons of difficulty getting and/or staying pregnant. That being the case, we decided it might be a good idea to go ahead and get started. That way if we had any trouble, we could address the problem sooner rather than later. I am happy to report we had no such trouble. My aim was true and a little over 10 months after our wedding, our first was born. To borrow a line from Ray Kinsella, "She smelled weird, but we loved her anyway". Our next child didn't come quite so easy. She arrived six and a half years and two miscarriages later.
Up until the day my youngest was born, I had spent my entire life looking and moving forward. I had always looked forward to all of the things involved with starting a family and a career and building a life. As our oldest child grew, we were excited to celebrate all of her firsts. Losing her first tooth, going to her first day of school, learning to ride her first bike... the list goes on and on. The point is, even through the life of my first child, I was still looking forward. It had never occurred to me that there would ever come a day when I would desperately want time to stand still. The first time it happened was when my baby lost her first front tooth. The rumor is that I cried that day. I, on the other hand, will deny everything, admit nothing and demand proof! Seriously though, in the same way I came to celebrate the older one's firsts, I came to mourn the baby's firsts. It is because her "firsts" had now become my "lasts" or more accurately, my "never agains". The first day of one thing, always marks the last day of another and sadly I always get that sinking feeling of knowing that I will never pass this way again. I will never again have a child that outgrows her diapers, or loses that first tooth or catches her first fish. I suppose that is why grandparents cherish their grandchildren so much. Hopefully one day I will have the pleasure of finding out. So, tomorrow I will celebrate my baby's first day as a teenager but tonight, I mourn as I try desperately to stop the clock....to stop my baby from turning "THIRT-STINKIN-TEEN!!!"
Daily Clifton-ism:
Wasted time enjoyed, is not wasted time.
Message from God:
Have faith.
Words of Wisdom from Grandmother:
If you eat your spinach, it will make you as strong as Pop-eye.
Okay friends, that's it for this time. I know this post was kind of a downer but have no fear! My next post is already on deck and I promise you, it's a real doozy! As always, thanks for stopping by. CHJ
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
I'm a "Non-Traditional" Student
I must admit I feel very conflicted about today's post. As a fireman who was on duty 9/11/01, I do feel a bit of an obligation to make this post all about that event. I certainly have an abundance of memories and stories from that day; however, I just feel that the simple fact I was a fireman on duty that day, doesn't necessarily make my memories and stories any more special than yours. The truth is, we all possess scars in one form or another, as a result of that tragic day. So while this post will not be about 9/11, I will nonetheless dedicate it to all of those who remember and will never forget.
While I may have been a fireman back then, I am a "non-traditional" student today (NTS for short). I remember I first started hearing the term "NTS" when I returned to the academic world in the fall of 2011. At first I thought, "Oh yeah, that describes me... I'm married, I have kids, I commute to school, and I have already had one career in this life". I soon figured out that the term "NTS" doesn't really mean any of those things at all. The bare-bones truth is "NTS" is simply a euphemism for "Old Fart". I think it's the university's sneaky little way of creating segregation without really appearing to do so. I feel compelled at this point to say that I am in no way complaining about this. In fact, the university also has a way of making us feel honored to be there at such an advanced stage in life. I mean....I don't really need everything to be ADA compliant, but it sure does make my life a lot easier at times. And just a quick note to any of you other prospective "NTS's" out there, who may be thinking about returning to school. I'm a big guy and I tote around a backpack that weighs about 20 pounds. I'm sure I can be heard huffing and puffing my way to class, all over campus. So, it was quite embarrassing at first, whenever a young girl who weighs maybe 80 pounds soaking wet and is 4 ft tall, lugs a back pack that weighs at least 50 pounds AND carries her tuba, passes you on the sidewalk like you were standing still. AND, does so without even breaking a sweat OR getting winded. Yes, it was quite embarrassing until...... I simply decided it was cool to be slow. Now whenever I hear one of those little speedsters, zooming up from behind, I simply slow down, pull out my iphone and stare intently at my reflection. Oh yeah, I also try my best to hold my breath until said speedster is out of ear-shot. Another trick... you can just stop dead in your tracks and stare off into the distance, as if you can see someone that no one else can see. To be honest, I only use this technique as a last resort. I won't go into the whole story, but it has something to do the last time I used it. I overheard one of the little speedsters mumble something like, "I'll bet that Old Fart hears voices too". If I do have a complaint, it is that I can't seem to get those grounds keeping guys to give me a lift to class on one of those spiffy little golf carts they drive around all day. Then I would really have it made!
After I had been at UNT for a semester, I was able to apply for the social work program. Part of the application process was that I had to meet with the director of the program. To protect his identity, I will refer to him as "Dr. Barbershop" (or Dr. B for short). Dr. B is an older gentleman, who is always neat as a pin. He doesn't dress fancy or anything of the kind, he is just always very neat and orderly. I must say he is also one of the nicest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Anyway, the first time I met with Dr. B, he seemed a bit surprised that I had been out of school for so long (20+ years). I remember we were making small talk about how much education had changed during that time and as our meeting was drawing to a close he said, "Well Clifton, everything appears to be in order and if you have any questions, you can contact me or you can just go to the department website online". I replied by saying, "Dr. B, I might feel better just contacting you. The term 'online' was not a term that was commonly used the last time I was in school". (hey, I thought it was funny...)
Those of you who really know me, know that I honestly care very little about what people think of me. Having said that, I was a little concerned about how I would be accepted by my fellow students, when I returned to school. I actually have three answers to that. Great!....really great!....and plumb awful! To explain further, the other students in the social work program have always been very cordial and helpful. In fact, I have even made friends with some of them! (great!). As it turns out, I am not the only "NTS" attending UNT. As a result, we old farts often band together. (really great!). Then at the complete other end of the spectrum, we have the freshmen (plumb awful!!). For the most part, this group of individuals think they know EVERYTHING and are entitled to EVERYTHING! They are rude, inconsiderate and self-serving. Did I happen to mention that I really don't like them very much? Keep in mind, there are exceptions, but this is the general rule. Fortunately, something magical seems to happen while a person is a sophomore. Somewhere along the way, they seem to acquire MANNERS! I have no idea how it happens, but I am sure glad it does. I had a sneaking suspicion that God makes some people be sophomores until they learn how to be nice to others. Then it suddenly dawned on me, I was a sophomore for 20+ years....so it most assuredly must be something else.
Daily Clifton-ism:
If it's wet and it's not yours.... don't touch it!
Message from God:
Until you get your house (body) in order, you will not be a good steward of any blessings.
Good Advice to Preachers and Teachers:
The mind cannot absorb more than the butt can endure.
Words of Wisdom from Grandmother:
Get a good education. It's the one thing that no one can ever take away from you.
Okay friends and neighbors, that's a wrap! Thanks for taking the time to read today's entry, I hope you enjoyed it. Have an awesome day! CHJ
While I may have been a fireman back then, I am a "non-traditional" student today (NTS for short). I remember I first started hearing the term "NTS" when I returned to the academic world in the fall of 2011. At first I thought, "Oh yeah, that describes me... I'm married, I have kids, I commute to school, and I have already had one career in this life". I soon figured out that the term "NTS" doesn't really mean any of those things at all. The bare-bones truth is "NTS" is simply a euphemism for "Old Fart". I think it's the university's sneaky little way of creating segregation without really appearing to do so. I feel compelled at this point to say that I am in no way complaining about this. In fact, the university also has a way of making us feel honored to be there at such an advanced stage in life. I mean....I don't really need everything to be ADA compliant, but it sure does make my life a lot easier at times. And just a quick note to any of you other prospective "NTS's" out there, who may be thinking about returning to school. I'm a big guy and I tote around a backpack that weighs about 20 pounds. I'm sure I can be heard huffing and puffing my way to class, all over campus. So, it was quite embarrassing at first, whenever a young girl who weighs maybe 80 pounds soaking wet and is 4 ft tall, lugs a back pack that weighs at least 50 pounds AND carries her tuba, passes you on the sidewalk like you were standing still. AND, does so without even breaking a sweat OR getting winded. Yes, it was quite embarrassing until...... I simply decided it was cool to be slow. Now whenever I hear one of those little speedsters, zooming up from behind, I simply slow down, pull out my iphone and stare intently at my reflection. Oh yeah, I also try my best to hold my breath until said speedster is out of ear-shot. Another trick... you can just stop dead in your tracks and stare off into the distance, as if you can see someone that no one else can see. To be honest, I only use this technique as a last resort. I won't go into the whole story, but it has something to do the last time I used it. I overheard one of the little speedsters mumble something like, "I'll bet that Old Fart hears voices too". If I do have a complaint, it is that I can't seem to get those grounds keeping guys to give me a lift to class on one of those spiffy little golf carts they drive around all day. Then I would really have it made!
After I had been at UNT for a semester, I was able to apply for the social work program. Part of the application process was that I had to meet with the director of the program. To protect his identity, I will refer to him as "Dr. Barbershop" (or Dr. B for short). Dr. B is an older gentleman, who is always neat as a pin. He doesn't dress fancy or anything of the kind, he is just always very neat and orderly. I must say he is also one of the nicest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Anyway, the first time I met with Dr. B, he seemed a bit surprised that I had been out of school for so long (20+ years). I remember we were making small talk about how much education had changed during that time and as our meeting was drawing to a close he said, "Well Clifton, everything appears to be in order and if you have any questions, you can contact me or you can just go to the department website online". I replied by saying, "Dr. B, I might feel better just contacting you. The term 'online' was not a term that was commonly used the last time I was in school". (hey, I thought it was funny...)
Those of you who really know me, know that I honestly care very little about what people think of me. Having said that, I was a little concerned about how I would be accepted by my fellow students, when I returned to school. I actually have three answers to that. Great!....really great!....and plumb awful! To explain further, the other students in the social work program have always been very cordial and helpful. In fact, I have even made friends with some of them! (great!). As it turns out, I am not the only "NTS" attending UNT. As a result, we old farts often band together. (really great!). Then at the complete other end of the spectrum, we have the freshmen (plumb awful!!). For the most part, this group of individuals think they know EVERYTHING and are entitled to EVERYTHING! They are rude, inconsiderate and self-serving. Did I happen to mention that I really don't like them very much? Keep in mind, there are exceptions, but this is the general rule. Fortunately, something magical seems to happen while a person is a sophomore. Somewhere along the way, they seem to acquire MANNERS! I have no idea how it happens, but I am sure glad it does. I had a sneaking suspicion that God makes some people be sophomores until they learn how to be nice to others. Then it suddenly dawned on me, I was a sophomore for 20+ years....so it most assuredly must be something else.
Daily Clifton-ism:
If it's wet and it's not yours.... don't touch it!
Message from God:
Until you get your house (body) in order, you will not be a good steward of any blessings.
Good Advice to Preachers and Teachers:
The mind cannot absorb more than the butt can endure.
Words of Wisdom from Grandmother:
Get a good education. It's the one thing that no one can ever take away from you.
Okay friends and neighbors, that's a wrap! Thanks for taking the time to read today's entry, I hope you enjoyed it. Have an awesome day! CHJ
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Play Ball!
9/7/2013Welcome to the inaugural post of my new blog!
I would like to begin by sharing my purpose for creating this blog. Essentially, I have no purpose... I have no agenda, I'm not on a mission to accomplish anything, I'm not offering advice, I have no message to share, I'm not exorcising my demons and I'm not trying to be a comedian. Good grief! This is starting to sound like "Seinfeld"... a show about nothing. At any rate, if any of the above should happen to occur, it is merely by accident and not by design. To sum it up, I am simply putting down some of the things that occasionally rattle around in my head. Plus I am emulating some of my middle age friends, who now have their own blogs. It appears that this is the hip thing for guys like me to do nowadays. Hey it could be worse... I remember back in the '70's, guys bought corvettes, wore low cut satin shirts and gold medallions. Of course if I could afford a corvette, this is the last place I would be! And I would no doubt have to sell the medallion to cover the fuel cost. As for the satin shirt... never was my style. I'm a cotton man all the way.
I chose the title "Play Ball!" because as I make this initial entry, I am reminded of the excitement I used to feel before every game. That feeling of no matter how many times I went to pee, I continued to feel the urge to go until the umpire yelled, "Play Ball!" Having said that, now that I am a few sentences into this, I'm over it. As the name of this blog implies, I am a 40-something year old college student. I am currently a senior at the University of North Texas, trying my hardest to graduate this coming spring, "something coom loudy".... (hey, it might just as well be in latin, because I can't tell the difference) At any rate, if the current POS-OTUS and his administration doesn't either throw me and all of my conservative friends into a "re-education" camp, or get us all blown off the map, then I stand a good chance of succeeding in this endeavor!
In the days to come, I will be sharing some of the adventures I have had in the academic world and I will share other things as well, as I see fit. I have also decided to include a section of repeated themes and I will put these under their own sub-headings. For example:
Daily Clifton-ism:
All snakes are poisonous, all guns are loaded.
Recent Message from God:
I could work wonders in your life, if you would just get out of the way!
Words of Wisdom from Grandmother:
If you don't stop telling lies about me, then I'm going to start telling the truth about you!
Okay folks, I hope you enjoy my little venture. (both of you) If not, then thanks for at least stopping by to take a look. One thing is for certain... just because I feel compelled to write it, doesn't necessarily mean you need to read it. Have a wonderful day! CHJ
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