Sunday, December 28, 2008

The Moonwalking Bear

Just for fun...

Money for a Change

The other day, I felt change in the air.

I arrived home from work. When I entered the house, I kissed petted Winston and petted kissed Jamie and then scurried back outside to check the mail. My very ornate mailbox (the home owners association made me get an expensive one) contained a bill or two, a magazine for Jamie, and a letter from a sender I didn't instantaneously identify. As I'm in the habit of doing, I tossed the mail aside with plans to come back to it when I had a spare moment.

A day or two later, I took time to sift through a growing pile of mail. I came to that aforementioned letter, which I assumed to be junk mail as I opened it. In the enclosed letter, I pulled out a check in the amount of $21.38 made out to me. It was from LG. Apparently because I purchased a refrigerator from them, I was somehow entitled to this remuneration.

Here's an excerpt from the letter which was with the check:

Based on guidance from the Department of Energy (DOE) about the interpretation of the testing rules for refrigerators, LG Electronics has changed the energy rating on the model of the LG refrigerator you purchased. The rating for this product now reflects higher energy usage than was indicated by the information on the labels and other materials at the time you made the purchase. As a result, LG is providing a three-part offer for those who have purchased these models:

The letter went on to explain that the enclosed check is a cash payment for past energy usage. It also said that LG will modify my refrigerator at no expense to me to make it more energy efficient. If I didn't opt for that, LG will make annual cash payments to me over the useful life of the refrigerator (14 years) for future energy usage.

Hmm. This seemed like an awfully honest thing to do. Who says there is no such thing as corporate conscience? Who dares lambaste the beauty of capitalism? Then it hit me! These corporate bastards weren't being honest. Barack Obama was making them be honest. Yes we can! I got to thinking even harder (a scary thing if I'm by myself): is Barack going to stick it to the man so many times over the next four years that I might should expect a check...who knows...daily?

Ah yes, how many times has the innocent consumer been snookered? But, my friends, we can be confident that the president-elect will make it right! The sky will open, the light will come down, celestial choirs will be singing...

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Merry Christmas

The Hand of Sweet Release

Come thou long expected Jesus,
Come illuminate the mysteries of life.
Come redeem us from the refuse,
Bring an end to endless suffering and strife.
Be the star that shines so brightly
That it draws our weary eyes to the sky, to Heaven’s sky.
Dearest child of new beginnings,
Be the start of something beautiful, I cry.

There’s an end to all the waiting,
There’s an answer to the “who?” and “where?” and “why?” . . . tonight.
All the years anticipating,
Are surrendered to a tiny baby’s cry.
There’s a dawn to follow darkness,
There’s a face to fill the title, “Prince of Peace.”
What he promised, he delivered

I am saved by the hand of sweet release.

In this war I’ve been a captive,
Just a sinner seeking life and liberty.
But these hands that hold me tightly
Are the hands that set my shackled spirit free.
Blessed Jesus, meek and lowly,
You have come into my life and made it new, now I’m new.
Out of bondage into everlasting light,
I owe everything to you.

There’s an end to all the waiting,
There’s an answer to the “who?” and “where?” and “why?” . . . tonight.
All the years anticipating,
Are surrendered to a tiny baby’s cry.
There’s a dawn to follow darkness,
There’s a face to fill the title, “Prince of Peace.”
What he promised, he delivered

I am saved by the hand of sweet release.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Christmas List

Favorite Christmas Song: "O Holy Night"
Least Favorite Christmas Song: "Silver Bells" (seriously, that's a bad Christmas song).
Favorite Christmas Decoration: Lights on bushes
Christmas Quandary: What is Yuletide?
Least Favorite Christmas Decoration: Colored lights on anything
Favorite Christmas Memory: As a child, watching cars come by to look at the Christmas decorations in our neighborhood.
Least Favorite Christmas Memory: The year my Mom decided to do an "Alphabet Christmas." My brother and I got 26 presents each. Each one started with a different letter of the alphabet. It did not work out well.
Favorite Christmas Temperature: 40 degrees Fahrenheit
Favorite Christmas Poem: "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" (the song is also beautiful, but I already have a favorite Christmas song).
Favorite Christmas Toy: Bicycle
Favorite Christmas Beverage: apple cider
Favorite Wife at Christmas: Jamie
Favorite Canine at Christmas: Winsty Baby
Favorite Stocking Stuffer: $100 bills
Jamie's Favorite Christmas Movie: Elf

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Color Christmas Lights

Tonight, Jamie has some friends up at the house. It's one of those parties where you have to have two X chromosomes to attend. Because neither Winston nor I meet this criterion, we have been banished to my office. Jamie gave me explicit instructions that I'm only to come out if I have to go to the bathroom or if Winston has to go to the bathroom. She'll bring me periodic refreshments and alert me if the house catches on fire. I'm a prisoner in my own home! Of course, Winston has become incorrigible as he's been cooped up back here for about half an hour as of the commencement of this post.

In preparation for this party, Jamie bought a couple of strands of those big, obnoxious colored Christmas lights and wanted me to hang them around the perimeter of our back porch. Easy enough. So last weekend while Jamie was working, I hung them up. Since it was pleasantly cool, I decided Winston should come out on the back porch with me as I worked. As we walked outside, he diligently attacked and chewed on my shoe strings (very common occurrence). He stopped though after about 30 seconds. Winston apparently became a little chilly and curled up under a chair. Perfect...he's out of the way.

I pulled out my drill, grabbed some eyehooks and my tape measure, did some quick mental calculations (75 lights to drape around approximately 38 feet of porch, but I only had 20 eye hooks), set up my four-foot step ladder, and I got to work. About 10 minutes later, I drilled the last hole, inserted the last eyehook, and hung the last strand of lights. Oh yes, they looked great!

Standing on my step ladder, I gazed around the porch. Jamie, who thinks that only bad things can happen when I use power tools, was going to be so proud!

Now I interpret a significant portion of the Bible literally. But this verse is not one that would have been on my list for literal interpretation. Yet it came to pass. As I was standing on my step ladder admiring my work, I hear Winston's little paws steadily beating the concrete. I turn around just in time to see out of the corner of my eye Winston lunge at my feet. As I was in somewhat of an awkward physical position, Winston's tackle basically made me stage-dive off the top of the step ladder onto the grass in my back yard.

I layed on the ground stunned for about ten seconds. Nothing seemed broken or irreparably harmed. As I got up, I looked around for Winston, but I didn't see him. I think he had a feeling he was about to get some "old fashion behind-the-wood-shed" discipline. There's no doubt I had a insatiable craving to give him that discipline. But when I found Winston hiding under one of my chairs on the back porch, I couldn't help but pick him up. He is just so lovable!

Now if you don't believe God exists, come up behind me and push me off a ladder. That's a sure fire way to get to meet your Maker. And I can assure you that the first question that you'll be asked is, "Where did you're face go?" You'll be able to respond, "Well Michael ripped it off before he killed me."

I put Winston back inside and tried to figure out why he unexplainedly lunged at my feet while I was on the step ladder. Best I can tell, I think he saw my shoe strings dangling around and they were just too appetizing to resist. Oh Winsty...

Apparently, none of the gals at the party were particularly impressed with the big, obnoxious colored Christmas lights I hung around the back porch (nobody said anything about them). They did give Winston a lot of attention though. I'll tell you what...I've about had my fill of that dog for tonight.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Pay Raise

Undeniable truth of life: Liberals never abide be their own rules.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Best Obama Joke Yet

I've heard a couple of good jokes this week; you can ask me what they are if you see me around (not all of them are rated G). Yet I must say this one is the funniest Barack Obama joke I've heard to date:

Police found the body of a man in a ditch last week. The man, who was murdered, was found wearing fishnet stockings, a red miniskirt, a blond wig, high heels, lip stick and eye liner, and had a cucumber shoved up his butt. He was also wearing an Obama t-shirt.

Out of respect for the family, though, the police removed the Obama t-shirt before they asked the family to identify the body.

Say What?

Usually, blog posts with catchy, crude, or inflammatory titles have nothing but catchy, crude, and inflammatory content. But here's an exception: Get off the nipple!

Seriously, that post has so many applications, I'm not even going there (something that doesn't happen often on the Ford Retort).

Monday, December 15, 2008


When sending texts of a sensitive nature, double-check your recipient.

John & Amie

I'm working on a post about some of Winston's antics from the weekend. As I typed, I came across my friend John's blog post about the antics of his dog Tucker. And it occured to me: I need to tell the world that John is blogging. So faithful Ford Retort reader: John and Amie are blogging!


Saturday, December 13, 2008


I know few Ford Retort readers would doubt my bona fides as a tried and true intellectual. My mind is frenetic as I'm always thinking about answers and solutions and philosophies and other universal quandries. I'm glad I have the brain I have, but I couldn't have my brain, I think I would want this man's brain.

Driving home the other day, I had a thought: why doesn't glue stick to the inside of a bottle? Hmm. So I clicked over to the Elmers website to search for an answer. And sure enough, it was there.

Glue is an aqueous solution of naturally "sticky" synthetic polymers (and a few other things). The solvent of that aqueous solution is of course water. When you pour glue out of it's a bottle onto, let's say a homemade Christmas card, a piece of macoroni, or a paper mache masterpice, the water in the glue solution quickly evaporates. This leaves behind the "sticky" polymers that adhere to the materials.

But when glue is in it's bottle, only a limited amount of the water in this aqueous solution is able to evaporate into the air (the free space in the bottle). Therefore, the glue solution remains liquid and doesn't stick to the sides.

So now you know.

Thursday, December 11, 2008


While Jamie and I were gone to New York City, Winston apparently forgot his house manners. He has been wild and out of control the last couple of nights. He doesn't obey (he always has obeyed Jamie better than me, but he loves me more than he loves Jamie). He whines and howls when he's in his cage (normally he only does that when he needs to go the bathroom). With the help of this, though, and saying "no" and hitting him approximately 235 times since we've been back, he now seems to remember his home training. Good Winsty!

On a related note, Winston is getting fixed Monday. We're hoping this will curb his aggression...and well...other amorous gestures. We plan on adding to him to our church's email prayer list for the day as well.

Jamie and I also encountered a dearth of manners in New York City. Let's see...there was the time that a cab driver told me I didn't tip him enough (I know you're wondering what I did...I looked him straight in the eyes and told him, "If you have the balls to tell me that, I'll give you another dollar"). And there was the time that a cab driver told Jamie she needed to say, "please" (that almost got ugly...). During the time we were standing in line to get tickets to see the Rockettes, one of the staff members of Radio City Music Hall was what I'll call aggressively rude with us. She didn't know, but she was one queer look away from getting her lunch eaten by two rednecks. And do I need to mention the way folks drive and up there?

I've told a lot of folks since we've been home that there's no place like home. Absolutely! I certainly missed southern manners. Remember: be courteous, be humble, be friendly, and don't be highfalutin'.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Similar Hair

I just realized something. Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich and I have very similar hair. 

Sunday, December 7, 2008


Hey it's good to be back home again.

Jamie and I are in our living room. She sits on the couch, watching television, and I'm sitting in my recliner, blogging. We're both sipping our apple cider as Winston lovingly gazes at us (very Norman Rockwell, I know.) Ahh, the simple pleasures of life. I certainly hate to be the one to ruin the warm mood and holiday atmosphere, but I'll risk being a Debbie Downer and let you in on a little observation that's been pressing in my mind.

While in New York City, Jamie and I stopped by the National September 11 Museum. The museum had several offerings, so we opted to take a guided tour of the site. In the guided tour, folks with a personal connection to 9/11 volunteer as tour guides. We had two very kind ladies, Joan and Patricia, lead our tour. Initially, they took us to several areas where you could view the old Trade Center complex. Joan spoke of the plans for the future memorial that's in the works. At the end of the tour, each of these sweet ladies gave their individual stories of how their lives were changed by 9/11. I was particularly touched by Patricia's story.

Patricia is a nurse, and on September 11, 2001, she was working at a hospital in New Jersey. At the beginning of her morning, a patient emerged from his room and told Patricia that planes had crashed into the Twin Towers. Immediately, Patricia called her husband and told him to try to get in touch with their two sons because they were Brooklyn firefighters. At the end of her precarious day, Patricia found out that her oldest son Danny evacuated the north tower before it collapsed. Danny was safe. The whereabouts of her second son, Tommy, were unknown.

Tommy was a member of Rescue Company Three. This unit was among the first group of firefighters to respond to the World Trade Center. Ten days after the attacks, Danny and his father were onsite helping with the recovery effort when Danny and Tommy's father spotted a Company Three helmet in the debris with the use of binochulars. At the time, getting to that helmet was impossible on foot, so they found a crane-like device to lift them to the spot. When they reached the rubble, they found the hat and body of their brother and son, Tommy.

The emotion and distress on Patricia's face as she told her story was intense, as if the tragedy happened yesterday and not seven years ago. I did a poor job maintaining my composure (Jamie is always glad to see me cry, since I didn't do so at our wedding). Even as I unceremoniously sobbed, I was wowed by Patricia's resolve to tell her story. Living the memories and emotions of a horrendous personal tragedy in front of others is difficult to imagine. 

Jamie and I fought a gigantic crowd to see the lighting of the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center. People, mostly young folks, were everywhere. The buzz and excitement in crowds was unpleasently electric. After all, what could be better than catching a glimpse of the Jonas Brothers?

As I ruminated about our trip on the plane from Atlanta to Jackson, I couldn't help but grieve at the misaligned priorities of our nation. Our 9/11 tour group of 15 people contained folks from South Africa and Sweeden, Washington State and Florida. We took a mere hour to remember and honor authentic heros. At Rockefeller Center, hundreds of thousands of people pushed and shoved their way to the front of crowds to see pseudo heroes. The antithetical nature of these two experiences seemed to me irreconcilable. Does our nation appreciate heroes? Would we recognize a hero in a lineup of rockstars, soldiers, actors and politicians? There's not much I can do about any of it, but I there is one thing I know I can do. Patricia closed her words to us by reminding us that each day is gift. It is extraordinary. We are not owed it. She encouraged us to make the most of each day, as did her son Tommy.

Yeah, it's a banal lesson, but for some reason, its depth of truth is ingrained a little more in mind than before I heard the story of our tour guide, Patricia.  

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Did I mention it's cold up here?

Tonight, the wife and I will be dining at Smith and Wollensky. Word among NYCers is that it's a pretty good place to grab a steak. I'm game!

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

NYC Update

It's Wednesday night and Jamie and I have retired to our hotel room here for a couple of minutes. We're about to go here for the lighting of a very large Christmas tree. Look for us on TV!

A few comments comments about our traveling experiences: Can someone please explain to me how an airline can overbook a flight? Finite number of seats. Don't book any more than that established number. There. Just solved that problem. Seriously, we need to get the people who are smart enough to pilot the planes in charge of booking seats on the plane. Also, Jamie and I witnessed a meltdown in the Atlanta airport. One mom, with her two kids and husband, burst into tears and proclaimed, "How is this happening!" I must admit, it was hard not to laugh, but I did feel a certain amount of sympathy for her.

Our first night in New York, Jamie and I briefly walked around the city. Then I spent some time trying to commit to memory, via Google Maps, the streets and landmarks of Manhattan. For the most part, my memory has served me well. But there have been a couple of times I've gotten turned around (one time just plain confused). Jamie has brought this up every couple of minutes while we've been here.

Tuesday and today, we utilized a bus tour of the city. Good choice for us because we can hop on and off at the places we want to stop. Tuesday, we went up to the observatory deck of the Empire State building, stopped at Macy's, wandered around Chinatown, ate lunch in Little Italy, and saw The Lion King on Broadway. Today, we went to the 9/11 museum, Ground Zero, and took the Staten Island Ferry to see the Statue of Liberty.

It's been fun so far! Jamie has had to learn about a rule I have when I travel. It's this: wherever I am is where I supposed to be.

Let's chat again soon.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Monday Morning

The early bird catches the worm, 
but the second mouse gets the cheese.

Usually, Jamie is proclaiming the first part of the above axiom, and I'm proclaiming the second part of it. Not today...

This morning, we were both very  motivated to get to Jackson-Evers early. Me in particular because well... last night I was deceived by the drive by media. You see, I was watching the news and the reports of holidy travel melees, and I got in a miny tizzy. So we hustled to get here, only to sail right through security and all the lines. Sit and wait.

Would you believe that there are some interesting folks around us? My favorite individual is the shifty-eyed gentlemen reading Good to Great. He's making copious notes in his book but is also making sure everybody is watching him. Then there's the gentlemen with the Sanford and Son ringtone. Oh to be a traveler.

Hopefully, we'll talk soon! 

p.s. This post comes to you courtesy of the of Jackson-Evers Wi-Fi. I feel like the Department of Homeland Security is scanning the contents of my laptop...

Sunday, November 30, 2008

We're Off to the Big Apple

So how did New York City acquire the nickname the "Big Apple?" False etymologies abound, but if you're interested to know the truth, our friends over at Wikipedia seem to document a reasonable explanation. Just a random introductory thought...

Jamie has never been to NYC, but I have once before (I was actually there on the six month anniversary of 9/11). We're both very excited about being in NYC this week. Jamie actually has planned the entire trip. I really don't know much of what is going on (not much different from every other day). From what I overhear, we'll be seeing some Broadway and off-Broadway shows...taking a bus tour of the city...eating at some famous places...and other random events.

As for Winston, he will be spending the week with Jamie's parents. Surprisingly, Jamie and I both handled our goodbye to Winston very well. Winston definitely knew something was up a couple of hours before we took him to his vacation home...the pitiful look on his face was just particularly terrible all afternoon long!

I hope to make a few posts while we're gone, but we'll just have to see how that works out.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Since Thanksgiving Is This Week...

Whatever is good and perfect comes down to us from God our Father, who created all the lights in the heavens. He never changes or casts a shifting shadow. James 1:17

Since Thanksgiving was yesterday (I'm only a day late), here is a compulsory list of things I'm thankful for:
  • My wife Jamie. This gal never ceases to amaze me!
  • Winston. Not only is it incredibly soothing to watch television while he's in my lap, God has taught me more than one lesson while dealing with my favorite canine.
  • All Christmas decorations are up!
  • Regardless of who you voted for earlier this month, I'm incredibly thankful that we live in a country where we have a peaceful exchange of power between leaders/factions that differ in ideologies. In many countries, leaders are "elected" by who has the most bullets, not votes.
  • Good health. I was in a restaurant the other day, and I saw a lady in a wheelchair. For some reason, I really struggled to hold it together when I saw her. I wasn't sad because of that young lady's circumstances; she appeared to be a very content individual. I was overwhelmed, though, with my own passive ingratitude for my great health.
  • Our fellow citizens in the military who are protecting our freedoms.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Sunday Service Serendipity

Just a random thought...

Each Sunday, our church service contains a brief minute for folks to find someone with whom they might not haven spoken to yet and greet them (this is not a time, though, to establish a meaningful relationship). After the invitation from the minister to do this, mild chaos breaks out as folks wonder to and fro greeting friends and strangers.

I've recently noticed something that happens during this time. When "meet and greet" time begins, about three or four young girls come to the area in front of the stage. And as music plays, the girls hold hands and spin around. For some reason, it really makes my day! I don't know what it is about this simple gesture, but my heart is warmed each and every time. I dare say this may be my favorite part of the church service.

p.s. While we're on the subject of quasi-religous topics, I have a challenge for you, the faithful Ford Retort reader. As families and friends gather together to give thanks and celebrate blessings this holiday season, many prayers will rightfully be offered up to the Almighty. But this year, I plan on keeping a running count (and would encourage you to do the same) of how many times people say this phrase in a prayer: "the reason for the season." This set of words hasn't always bothered me, but as of late, I will confess that my nose itches or my skin crawls each and every time somebody uses that phrase in a prayer. There's nothing inherently bad about it, but like a bad gift from your weird aunt, the phrase "reason for the season" never fails to make me smile akwardly. So, see how many times you hear (or catch yourself saying) this banal phrase...

Monday, November 24, 2008

Winston E. Ford Update

Well, Jamie and I thought it would never come, but Winston is starting to mellow a little bit. Don't get me wrong. He still has moments when he gallops through the house like a gazelle with his ass on fire, but those times are subsiding.

Recently, Winston underwent a habitat (Jamie's word) change. We moved him from his kennel to a small hallway by our laundry room (after installing a puppy gate). Winston seems to really enjoy his square footage increase. But if he scratches the wall any more than he has, he's going back to the kennel. 

Winston recently experienced a brief illness. He didn't have much of an appetite and had more than one...oh let's say runny...accident in the house. He has recovered from that. Also, Winston must be the cleanest dog in the neighborhood. Not only have we spent more money on his healthcare than we've spent on our own, I wash either his towels or bedding (yes, he has bedding for his bed) at least once a day. No exageration. And this kills me - Winston loves when Jamie bathes him.

Jamie is now finally admitting that Winston loves me more than he loves her. That dog must spend every waking moment thinking and hoping that he's going to get to sit with me in my recliner. Jamie still insists that he obeys her more...not sure of that.

Winston still does try my patience. Any time he thinks he can get away with it, he'll dash in our bedroom and hunt down a sock or shirt or shoe to chew on. But I'm handling his antics a little better. It's really pretty simple. I use what's for me a familiar coping mechanism: a Southern Gospel song. 

Well I've had my share of troubles and trials. Sometimes the going gets rough. Ohhhhh. But when Jesus says it's enough, it'll be enough.

You ought to hear me sing it!

Yet Another Reason

One more reason why John McCain lost the 2008 Presidential Election: Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt endorsement

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

One in Three

Faithful Ford Retort readers know that I'm a big fan of Sal and Mookie's. But did you know that the folks who own Sal and Mookie's also own Bravo! Italian Restaurant and Broad Street Cafe (both of these are also delightful eateries)? Well it's true!

So if you're looking for different gift this Christmas, consider the three-in-one gift card!

Monday, November 17, 2008

Clever Man

Mr. Connor’s lawyer offered evidence in the proceedings that Mr. Connor had a medical condition that caused his eyes to wander and not maintain focus.

Now how come I didn't think of this? Check out the full story here.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Ice Ice Baby

For all of the Vanilla Ice fans out there, be aware that he's coming to Jackson the day after Thanksgiving.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

I'm Excited

I'm excited because tonight, Jamie and I get to eat with our long-lost friend Julie "Judy" Smith. Yes!

I'm kinda wondering if she has some news for us...

Losing in Heads Up, Seven Up

Me in the First Grade

On the night that we received Winston's diagnosis of delinquent dog from the veterinarian, I told my Dad about Winston's pronouncement as a problem pup, and how I felt like I had been called in to the principal's office upon receiving the exhortation from the vet. After I finished, my Dad quickly told me, "Now you know how your Mom and I felt when you said 'damn' in the first grade." Hmmmm. I don't think I've told you, the faithful Ford Retort reader, that story yet.

Now seriously, I was a good child. Virtually zero discipline issues. But I pick up on things quickly.

Mrs. Prudden was my first grade teacher, and best I recall, she was a delightful person. Mrs. Prudden would reward our class's good behavior with extra recess time or a movie or a fun game. One Friday afternoon, we finished our studies early, so Mrs. Prudden let our class play our favorite game: Heads Up, Seven Up. If you are unfamiliar with this game, I refer you here to understand it. Heads Up, Seven Up is a fairly simply game...not much to it.

One round, I became one of the lucky seven who got to go around the classroom and pick someone. My other six classmates and I did our duty and returned to the front of the class to see if our victims could successfully identify their perpetrator. So it came time for my victim to guess and see if they could identify who picked him.

"I was Michael."

"Damn,"I shouted.

Ooops. The funny things was, I knew as the word "damn" was rolling off my tongue that I was about to be in trouble. The details are a little fuzzy, but best I recall, I just sat down and my spot was taken by my would-be victim. No furious words from Mrs. Prudden. No trip to the principal's office. Nothing. Some of my classmates knew I just cursed; some didn't. I remember a couple of days after the incident, my mother confronted me about it as we were rinding in the car. She wasn't particularly mad. Again best I recall, I never really got in trouble. In fact, I was mad at my mom because she wouldn't tell me who ratted me out.

So after my first "child" acts out, my Dad finally tells me some of what actually happened that spine-chilling day of my first grade year. Apparently, Mrs. Prudden was doing everything she could to not laugh in front of the class when I cursed. She actually thought it was funny! I always wondered why I didn't get in major trouble at my small, ultra-conservative Presbyterian school. I'm guessing I wasn't reported. Still to do this day, though, I don't know who ratted me out (my parents apparently don't remember). So, along with who shot JFK and if we really put a man on the moon, maybe I'll find out the truth on the other side of eternity...

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Veterans Day

It is the soldier, not the reporter,
Who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the soldier, not the poet,
Who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the soldier, not the campus organizer,
Who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.

It is the soldier, who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag.

-- Father Dennis Edward O'Brian, USMC

Thanks for Your Service, Mr. Snerdley

Several folks have recently inquired of the whereabouts of Joe Nathan Snerdley, the Official Blog Observer for the Ford Retort. In preparation for the impending Obama presidency, I was forced to make the hard decision to lay off Mr. Snerdley.

Most of you know that I make obscene amounts of money from my musings on the Ford Retort (it's not uncommon to find toilet paper made of $500 bills at the Ford Retort underground blogging bunker). Notable Ford Retort sponsors include Halliburton, Rupert Murdoch, Karl Rove, and Ann Coulter. Enter: Obama presidency. Since Mr. Obama will now insist that I do the unselfish thing and pay other people's mortgages, the luxury of a staff has been obliterated. I've also had to eliminate several magazine subscriptions. Hey - I have a high standard of living!

Again, thanks to Mr. Snerdley and the Ford Retort interns for their faithful service.

Monday, November 10, 2008

The Weekend

Yes, there really is such a thing as a sturgeon!

What a fun weekend! Jamie and I had a blast with each other and some friends and family.

Sunday at lunch, we went to eat with my parents. They both have November birthdays, so we had a two-for-one-let's-eat-lunch-with-our-parents-party. On Sunday night, Jamie and I hit up Keifer's with Neil and Amanda (after discovering that Old Venice was closed). Again, I was reminded that the best thing about Neil Tullos is undoubtedly Amanda Tullos. And just remember, Neil, when your Monday is becoming unbearable, know that relief is on the way via the one o'clock post-lunch beating.

I won't say that the most fun we had this weekend was on Saturday night, but I will say that the most quotable outing we had was on Saturday night. Jamie and I dined at Julep Restaurant with some friends. Afterward, we headed up to the house and and played Balderdash. And so, if you were with me and Jamie on Saturday night, you might have heard these things said:
  • "The blogosphere is going to be lit up tonight!"
  • "We bonded at your rehearsal dinner."
  • "Do y'all remember on New Year's Eve..."
  • "I think your line of sight is crooked.
  • "It's pronounced brah, not braw."
  • "Yeah to watch television, I'm going to rig up a complex system of mirrors."
  • "What's a sturgeon? Michael wrote that one..."
  • "I'm so glad our significant others are fierce consumer advocates."
  • " not lick me!"
  • "I think he just licked my wife."
  • "I have not even LOOKED at my Sunday School lesson."
  • "Winston, come see Amanda."
  • "American Tradesman Society."
  • "That's what she said."
  • "Ba..rack....O....baaaaamm....aaaaaaaaaaaaa"
  • "Is your upstairs decorated?"
  • "A saw blade."
  • "Mama Bridges."
  • "In Hebron, Utah, it is against the law to paint shoe polish on vehicle windows."
  • "Thad and I connected on the Italian man."
  • "What is John saying?"
  • "A Brazilian dance."
  • "Don't come that quick."
  • "I just found one of Jamie's pony tail holders in the vomit."
  • "By the way, Amanda, Sir Edmund Hillary was the first person to climb Mt. Everest."

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

President Obama

Well, it wasn't because I didn't vote...

Barack Obama will be the next POTUS.

I went to bed early last night, but I woke up at around 3 am. I turned on the television and heard the words "President-elect Obama" and immediately went back to sleep. This morning, I got up and went to my mailbox. Since I didn't find a check from the President-elect, I decided I better get up and go to work.

Monday night after I had gone to bed, Jamie stayed up and made what she called an "election night cake." She mistakenly used blue icing (believing that blue represented Republicans), so she was quite upset when I told her it was red that represented Republicans. But I would say her mistake might have been a prophecy..

The silver lining to the election is that resident Mississippi pinhead Ronnie Musgrove was defeated by Senator Roger Wicker. Hopefully, the only time I'll see Mr. Musgrove again is when he is singing in the choir at FBC Jackson. I catch them on television a few Sunday mornings out of the year...

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Election Day Bash: Part XI

I know this isn't related to the presidential campaign, but Ronnie Musgrove is such a pinhead, I couldn't resist it. Apparently, Barack has some competition in "the Messiah" race...

Election Day Bash: Part X

Small (maybe a big) problem: Miss Buffalo Chip mostly feature topless (and sometimes bottomless) contestants.

Election Day Bash: Part IX

Bipartisan unity!

Election Day Bash: Part VIII

57 states...not counting Hawaii and Alaska.

Election Day Bash: Part VII

And now a word from the man who I wanted to be the next POTUS, Senator Fred Thompson.

Election Day Bash: Part VI

Haven't seen much of ol' Jesse, have we?

Election Day Bash: Part V

Rev. Dr. Jeremiah Wright

Election Day Bash: Part IV

Joe Biden: an American Gaffe Machine

Election Day Bash: Part III

Hey, I'm with Barack on this one: if you're not cheating, you're not trying.

Election Day Bash: Part II

Yep, Rush is always right. Check it out here.

Election Day Bash: Part I

The Obama tax plan applied: check it out here.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Election Day Bash

Tomorrow, the Ford Retort is hosting an Election Day Bash. Every hour, from 8 am to 6 pm, I will be posting something (usually a video) relating to the presidential campaign. So as you're sweating and praying tomorrow, come join me for a video or two to break up the monotony of the Drive-by Media's Obamagasm.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Deliquent Puppy

Jamie and I find that there are many similarities between having Winston and having children. Winston is a very high maintenance puppy. He currently has an ear infection, so we have to put drops in his ears twice a day. Winston also has several infections on his belly (secondary to his allergies), so we put triple antibiotic and hydrocortisone on his scrapes. Of course, his nose is prone to drying out, so we put vasoline on it. His jouls collect and hide dirt and grime, so we clean them daily as well. This, in addition to his ongoing house training and the love and affection he requires, takes up a lot of our time. Since I've had to learn to be this unselfish for a dog, I can't even imagine the level sacrifice that would be expected for a little Michael Jr. or Jamie Jr.

Thursday, Jamie and I picked up Winston from the veterinarian. He had to get some shots, get his infections checked out, and we got his nails trimmed. When we arrived, I told the receptionist we were there to pick up Winston E. Ford. I explained to her that the "E" didn't stand for anything; it alone was his middle name. She said, "Oh, ok." After scrambling to find Winston's chart, she briefly perused it and said, "Do y'all mind staying for a second? Dr. Peterson would like to speak with y'all." Of course, we said sure.

Jamie and I sat down, and Jamie's skin begin to get splotchy. Her skin does this when she gets upset. In the five steps from the receptionist to our seats, everything that could possibly be wrong with Winston went through Jamie's head (and mine, too). But I was sure it was probably nothing. Jamie on the other hand wasn't so sure. After she had a couple of more minutes to thoroughly think through all of the worst case scenarios, my wife was on the verge of tears. Heart worms. Congenital heart disorder. Parasites. Canine Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Bulldog Ebola virus.

Eventually, we were brought back to a waiting room. We still hadn't seen or heard Winston. The clinic had long since closed. We were starting to brace for the worst. Forty five minutes later, Dr. Peterson pops in. We quickly exchange pleasantries so she can tell us what's going on. Winston, she says, is fine. They treated his infections. No big deal - common for puppies, especially bulldogs. Then she told us about his fingernail clipping. While they were doing that, Winston became very aggressive and bit one of the vet techs. They had to restrain him to finish clipping his nails. Dr. Peterson told us that this level of aggression in a puppy is uncommon, and that she is recommending obedience training for Winston.


At that point, I felt like I had been called in to the principal's office and told my child was an incorrigible delinquent. Jamie and I were mortified. We were really shocked. Our baby...our precious Winston...acted up? We apologized profusely! After asking Dr. Peterson some questions, we finished up, acquired Winston, and got on our way.

While riding in our vehicle, the first thing I told Winston was that he had been told on, and he was about to undergo some serious in-house discipline. And then it happened. On our way home, it happened. In our car, it happened.

Jamie says, "You know, I just can't see Winston doing that. He's just so sweet and precious, and he's being so calm right now. I think they probably did too much to him at one time." And with that, it begun. The worst nightmare of teachers like Sarah Denley and Amy had begun. The scorn of youth ministers like Neil had just occurred. Yep, Jamie basically said: "My child is a precious angel and there's no way it's his fault so you must have screwed up." We just became the parents who blame the authority figure for our child's bad behavior. Sigh.

Jamie and I do agree on this much: Winston is not going to obedience school. Bulldogs as a breed tend to be stubborn, and we definitely see this in Winston. Indeed, we will definitely be training him hard. Winston...sit...Winston, SIT!!!

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

I Support Obama Because...

Yes, Howard Stern is doing the job the media should be doing. Check it out here.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Tuesday Morning Greetings

Well, I've taken an unintentional sabbatical from the Ford Retort (for the faithful Ford Retort readers in D'Lo, all that last sentence means is I've just gotten a little busy and haven't had time to post).

But I should be back. My sleep patterns have become a little wacky, and I've been trying to catch up on some reading. But I've just got a feeling that this cold weather will redirect my focus. Also, Jamie and I have spent some quality time with Winston. We've learned a couple of things about him. Winston is very afraid of tin foil. That's right...tin foil. Jamie pulled some out in the kitchen the other night, and Winston cowered in fear and lost all bladder control. He was genuinely terrified. It was the oddest thing! Also, Winston becomes very agitated when I eat in my recliner. It doesn't bother him when I eat anywhere else, just in my recliner. Winston has also acquired several aliases from friends and family: Quinston and Winchester.

If I hear the following statements one more time before next Tuesday, I might cram peanut butter in my ears:
  • "Wave the white flag of surrender."
  • "Eight more years of the same Bush-McCain economic policies."
  • "Unrepentant terrorist Bill Ayers."
  • "Change we can believe in."
  • "All beef, no bull."
  • "And he voted to raise his own pay nine times."
  • "My friends..."

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Moron Clause

If you're having trouble reading the caption, click on the graphic - that should help.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Winston and I at the Races

Yes, I'm a sinner saved by grace, and I'm well aware of this. But a sin I've yet to fall into is failing to re-energize. I savor a long, lazy nap. And for me to miss a Sunday afternoon nap is a rarity. Sunday afternoon was beautiful...maybe even perfect. So before and after my traditional Sunday afternoon nap, I spent some quality time with Winston in the backyard. He rolled around and ran around and I scratched his big, fat belly. Boy, Winston and I have had some interesting times this last week. Let me recap one.

Because Jamie works 3 or 4 nights a week, Winston and I are left in our humble abode to hold down the fort on the nights she is away. My routine with Winston on these evenings usually consists of feeding him, playing with him, attempting to train him, playing with him some more, taking him outside to excrete, and putting him to bed.

Last week, Winston showed more energy than he has ever shown before. He always wanted to play. Winston rarely trotted anywhere around our house, choosing to run and jump instead. Last Tuesday night was no exception. I couldn't get Winston to remain calm for even a few seconds. At about 10 pm, I had reached my tipping point with that dog. The only thing I knew left to do was get on my knees and beg him to calm down. But I was certain he probably would have laughed at me. Because exasperation is a powerful motivator, I firmly decided I was going to show Winston he wasn't going to get the best of me.

So here was my plan: I was going to drain Winston of his energy. Since he was following me around biting my knees, I decided to run him into the ground and show him that I had a lot more energy to burn than he did. So, I took him outside and ran from one end of my back yard to the other. One time, I made a lap around the house. The entire time, Winston just chased me. I was rather impressed with the little dude; he hung in there with me for most of the time.

After about four or five minutes, Winston had his fill of chasing me. He was ready (and so was I) to end our charade. So on the last wind sprint in the back yard is, of course, when I slipped and fell flat on my face (the grass was a little wet and I was wearing sandals). No big deal...Winston jumped on me a little bit...then I heard somebody chuckle...then I got up.

By the way, that chuckle came from my neighbor who was sitting on her back porch. I can only assume she was watching me the entire time of my exercise. What would you have done to handle that? I considered explaining what I was doing but decided that might only serve to make me look a bit goofy. And I was exasperated with Winston because he still was jumping up to bite me. Hey, exasperation is a powerful motivator, right?

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Encore! Encore!

Faithful Ford Retort readers have again demanded this video, so back by popular demand...

Eh Eh Eh

Who's ready to have church?

Saturday, October 18, 2008

McCain-Palin Tradition

This made me laugh and laugh and laugh...

How To Fix America's Health Insurance Problem

I'll be posting a couple of videos this weekend. Here's the first!

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

The Weekend

My oh my, it was a whirlwind weekend! I'm only good for one of those about once every six months. So finally, some brief thoughts.

After our one night in Bossier City, LA, we attended two weddings this weekend. Saturday night, we grabbed some grub at Bonsai with some friends and hit the bowling alley. Not long ago, Jamie and I established a standing bet whenever we bowl. After that, I've gained a new appreciation for the sport. And by the way, I saw one of the most beautiful weddings I've ever seen this weekend.

Sunday evening, Jamie and I took a journey together. The journey was simply getting our life back in order. In our combined two weeks of illness, our house (and cars) got out of control. Dirty clothes, and even worse, wrinkled clothes were everywhere. Our belongings had left their homes in our homes. So we took our vehicles to one of those self car wash bays, and spent way too much money to wash our own cars.

Jason, yes - the Jason of the renowned YDKS Movies blog - stopped by the house Sunday evening. It's always good to see him because he's just so...I don't know...down to earth! We fed him, but I would like to think he still would have come by even if we didn't feed him.

Then we went to bed. YES!

And of course, is it even now possible to have a post on the Ford Retort without quotes? So say it with me, faithful Ford Retort readers, if you were with Jamie and me this weekend, you might have heard these things said (cue wild applause):
  • "I want to be on the blog." (You made it, Amanda. I had the interns do some research, and if you check out this link, you'll find you actually were in the second post of the Ford Retort)
  • "The Ada Taylor exit."
  • "So how many pieces of meat did you eat? Three? Four?"
  • "You can look at me and tell there's always food in my refrigerator."
  • "Uh oh, somebody just soiled their Depends."
  • "Winston makes that face a lot."
  • "Deacons in moderation; Elders refrain."
  • "In fact, let's go ahead and make another appointment."
  • "I haven't even studied my Sunday School lesson yet."
  • "His girlfriend bit him on the lip."
  • "I think you have to at least pass a test and get a license to prophesy."
  • "Well from the way you're talking, I figure they'll be married by the end of the year."
  • "I'm kind of offended I haven't been invited to preach to this group."
  • "Yeah, I'm a pathetic leader."
  • "I haven't seen that kid in a while...he is just precious!"
  • "If Christ is not risen, we are a pack of fools."
  • "Maybe your pilot light burned out."
  • "Take it from someone who has eaten his words: never say never about what you're dog will and won't do."
  • "This shirt reminds me of my grandmother's arm."
  • "We made it to Bovina - let's pull out the map."
  • "You need to learn to be slow to speak."
  • "Finish the job."
  • "Winsty baby!"
  • "This kid could learn a thing or two about writing songs from Bill."
  • "He's done found religion."
  • "Give me those socks."
  • "Get off the chlamydia sheets."
  • "Are all truckers retarded or just the ones with CB radios?"
  • "This vehicle is leaving at 10:30 am, and who is or isn't in it is completely irrelevant."

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Divine Indeed!

I'm a bit snobby when it comes to Christmas music, and "O Holy Night" is in my top three favorite Christmas songs. So when I ran across the above video, I thought I would bless you with it.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Genuine Thank You Note

I'm a little ashamed to admit that I haven't wrapped up writing my thank you notes from the wedding, but I haven't. Did you just hear the deep moans and groans of mothers from sea to shining sea? Rest assured, I'm working on them; they will be completed soon. Some thoughts on thank you notes:
  • Thank you notes are definitely an old school deal. I was talking with a friend, and we both agreed this is becoming a requirement of bygone days.
  • If I give you a gift, I didn't do it to add an obligation (a note of appreciation) to your to-do list. Don't bother.
  • I do think it's certainly a thoughtful gesture to write a thank you note to someone. Believe it or not, I do actually write thank you notes from time to thank folks who have helped me out.
  • The folks to whom I write thank you notes by choice are older folks.
Back to the wedding thank you notes: brides and grooms despise writing these things. They do it because their mothers make them. Bottom line. So with that in mind, I'm going to write the thank you note that every bride and groom burns to write, but never would (I only do this because you, the faithful Ford Retort reader, expect me to say the things that everybody thinks, but won't say).

Dear Sir/Madam,

Thank you so much for the bland and useless bowl that you gave us. You absolutely should not have wasted your time by purchasing this bowl, which is not on our registry. Were you aware that the bowl was not on our registry? Really, are you satisfied with yourself now that you have this thank you note? And did I mention that the bowl - bland and useless - is not our registry?


Dear Sir/Madam,

The only practical application for the horrendously ugly pillow that you gave us is as a cow's chew toy. Unbelievable! I thought I had seen it all, but after this demonstration of thoughtfulness, I stand corrected. Do you understand that if this pillow remains in our household, irreparable harm will be done to our marriage? Thanks again for reminding us that no matter how bad things get, it really could get worse.


Dear Sir/Madam,

WHOOOAAAA! Thank you so much for this Panini Press that you gave us. We will use it often. Considering that I really don't know you at all, I'll assume that my parents gave your son an exceptionally nice gift when he got married.


Dear Sir/Madam,

Bless your heart! When I saw this lovely picture frame, there was absolutely no doubt in mind who this could have come from. This frame is quite unique that it will most likely find a home outside of our home. Might I again repeat how unusual this frame is. Know anybody who might want it?


Tuesday, October 7, 2008

The Fair

Well, I've put in my time to the State Fair for the year. Thankfully, I've done my duty! Nobody will be surprised to read that I just don't understand the appeal of this annual attraction. I'll go, but only because I'm forced to. Jamie enjoys riding all the death wishes...I mean....rides, and maybe instead of complaining, I should simply be thankful that she had a friend to ride with her.

If you happened to be with Jamie and me and some friends, you might have heard these things said (and I've thrown in a few quotes from the weekend to make life spicy):
  • "Stop acting trashy? We're at the Fair"
  • "Y'all bored?"
  • "She's going to find some interesting pictures on her camera."
  • "Let's show them we know how to have a good time!"
  • "If I could just get her off the antibiotic..."
  • "Now when y'all see all that water, just get a grip."
  • "Are you racist?"
  • "So I hear y'all aren't going to Memphis."
  • "I'm getting the silent treatment."
  • "Meet us by the half women/half snake."
  • "Ok, now if we see her again, you have to get a picture with her."

Monday, October 6, 2008


If you are curious about what Jamie does in her spare time...well...she takes pictures of Winston. Go check them out here!

Friday, October 3, 2008

I Was Sick!

A certain wife of mine has recently implied that I have not been sick this past week. Oh, I beg to differ! Just how sick was I? Glad you asked, faithful Ford Retort reader. At one point, as I was suffering at home on Wednesday night, I was transported in spirit to the Pearly Gates.

As I approached the Pearly Gates, I saw the saints of the ages. Our forefathers: Abraham...Issac...Jacob... David...Solomon...Jeremiah...Haggai...Zechariah...Malachi. I saw the disciples of Christ: James and John...Philip...Matthew...Bartholomew...Thadeus. And I saw the martyrs: Stephen...John on the Isle of Patmos.

As I walked towards those Pearly Gates, there stood Peter. I said, "Pete (we're on a first name basis), I am ready to die and leave this cruel world and meet King Jesus." After I finished speaking, Heaven grew silent. Peter walked to me, touched my lips, and said, "Child, your time on Earth is not yet complete. People still need the Ford Retort."

And next thing I know, I'm back in my bed and feeling a little better. Just reporting the facts...

Jamie and I ate with some friends last night, and if you were with us, you might have heard these things said:
  • "He doesn't ever eat anything."
  • "John, get up off that floor before you get pregnant."
  • "Hey, the sonic boom came today."
  • "Y'all had any water pressure problems yet?"
  • "What's Winston doing?"
  • "I would consider myself a blessed person if I never went to the Fair again."
  • "Yeah, we got our Christmas tree from the place the White House gets theirs."
  • "He doesn't know better."

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Customer Service

At my office, we're getting new phones this week. I am sad to report the transition has been nothing short of disastrous. By the end of the day yesterday, I was ready to throw the phone sets out on the front steps and buy ten Jitterbugs.

I'm beyond irritated. Our new phones and phone service currently leave much to be desired, but the source of my irritation stems from the poor customer service I've received. Many promises have been made but the company has consistently failed to deliver. The project manager with whom I've been dealing (let's call him Ronald) has not impressed me. Every time I speak with him, his cavalier words lead me to believe he's always thinking, "Yeah, I'll tell this guy anything to shut him up."

Yesterday, my patience ran out. Yesterday afternoon, I reached down not so deep inside, opened up, and shared my true feelings with Ronald. My comments to Ronald were never unprofessional (telling him I'm tired of taking crap from a one-eyed fat man may have been a bit much), and I never raised my voice (most likely because I'm sick and my throat hurts). Basically, I told him I was tired of calling him, reporting every small problem that we are experiencing, and then hearing his empty promises. Although Ronald told me many times he was diligently working to correct all problems, I reminded him that we were not paying for his diligent efforts, but for the end product: a functional VoIP phone system.

There's a customer service lesson to be learned here: you need to feel my pain. If it won't rang, you need to feel my pain. Ronald, I know we live in a fallen world. Because of the wiles of the Devil, our very existence is marred. We have problems. People are immoral. Our bodies decay. Phone systems don't cooperate. Ronald, I don't want to climb through the phone and tie your lips in a knot because you can't make my phones work, I want to come through the phone and make you eat your fist because you don't understand my needs.

Ronald, when I call you, I need you to make me believe that you care. When I call you with a problem, I need you to tell me that you're acutely aware that I'm losing money because of your ignorance. I want to know that my problems deeply concern you. I want to be coddled. I want you to hug me and tell me that everything will be ok. I want to hear reassuring words from you as you pat me on the back and speak of lollipops and dancing sunshines. I want you to keep me updated. It's real simple. I'm actually a pretty easy-going guy, but when you blow me off, the redneck comes out in me. Ronald...dude...feel my pain.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

The Circle of Trust

Well, since Jamie was not at home yesterday evening, I decided it was time to have a man to man talk with Winston. Yep, it was time to have the talk with him.

You see, Winston is demonstrating great signs of progress to acclimating to life in the Ford household. He is responding to commands that I give him. I know he may not comprehend my words, but he undoubtedly understands my tone of voice and voice inflections. In short, Winston is recognizing that I am the pack leader - the alpha male - of this domain. I am tough but fair. Commanding respect but giving it as well. Stern but affectionate. Truly, I'm a benevolent leader.

When Winston and I first sat down for our talk, I expressed to him that I had found him worthy of my love and attention. He is a good dog, and Jamie and I have enjoyed making him a part of the family. But that level of familial membership - the unconditional love thing - is actually rather superficial. Indeed there is a deeper level of membership that I told Winston he must attain: the Circle of Trust.

Yes, the Circle of Trust. What is this Circle of Trust? If you strip away the pomp and fluff from the description, you are left merely with this: I will not watch you like a hawk and supervise your every move if I can trust you not to pee on my floor. After I explained this honorable idea, Winston readily acknowledge his understanding of the sacred Circle of Trust. He was excited, exuding an almost arrogant confidence, that he was ready and worthy of joining the Circle.

Yes, I have seen this scene before. Many well-meaning individuals have innocently believed they were ready for the Circle but have suffered an early demise. I told Winston not to be too confident in himself. Why, Jamie herself has just attained full membership in the Circle of Trust (just kidding). After I again reinforced with the Winston the seriousness of this journey, I ended our meeting by reciting a poem I had written for the occasion. It was joyous but solemn, capturing the excitement and gravitas of the moment. I wished him good fortune in his journey.

I will continue to document for you, the faithful Ford Retort reader, Winston's journey to achieve full membership in the Circle of Trust.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Quotes: Weekend Edition

  • "If my water bill goes up, I'll know why."
  • "It is not convenient for me. I'm on red."
  • "I've looked at the website, and I didn't know there were problems."
  • "Winston just peed on the rug, and then when I took him outside, he preceeded to attack every piece of shrubbery in our yard."
  • "I thought these phones were supposed to be able to follow you to the bathroom and wipe for you."
  • "FYI, my weed eater is working. I couldn't stand the thought of you gloating all weekend."
  • "My only question is when does the training conference go back to Las Vegas."
  • "I don't like all this workin' late."
  • "Winston...NO!!!"
  • "I know you can't appreciate it, but we got some really nice Christmas stuff."
  • "Well I've got a lawyer friend - he's a Scott County Public defender."
  • "You should have gotten a cheap one like me. You had fair warning."
  • "In our household, eating poop is looked down upon."
  • "You suggested that literally years ago, right?"
  • "Your hair isn't gonna look like (insert name here), right?"
  • "The problem is that it was built on an old platform."
  • "I actually take Tyler out to eat because I try to learn something from him each time."

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Hair Announcement

In keeping with previous years, I'm beginning my journey to a beard and longer hair. I chose to go ahead and let everybody know, hoping to avoid the comments about lost razors and the like. So you've been warned.

I know I'm going to let my hair get longer, but I'm not 100% sure as to how I'm going to wear it. So I've put together a little video of some different options. Check it out!

Thoughts on Winston

Well, I think I've spanked Winston enough for an eternity.

Mrs. Ford and I are certain that Winston understands that when we take him outside, he's supposed to go to the bathroom - he does that well. But just when we think he's getting the idea about inside vs. outside, we'll find a yellow spot on the rug. Oh Winston, I hope you get the hang of this soon. I keep reminding myself he still is a puppy after all.

I was chatting with my neighbor yesterday afternoon, and she boosted my confidence by telling me that she house-trained her dog in about 3 days...with only 2 accidents. Well congratustinkinlations. Of course, her dog is an uppity-looking, metrosexual acting dog (he prances when he walks). I'm sure he poops odorless turds, barks in French, and most likely plans to vote for Obama.

I genuinely distaste disciplining Winston. It's a lot of trouble, but I know it must be done. I feel bad. I wonder if he simply doesn't have complete bladder control. Or we're not taking him out enough (I'm almost certain that is not the problem). Maybe he doesn't feel loved and is doing anything to get attention. Oh...and then, that pitiful face he makes as he hides under the chair...just gut-wrenching. Believe it or not, I'm not totally heartless!

On a positive note, Winston is starting to understand and respond to commands. I remember the first time Jamie called me and told me she couldn't get him to behave. She called me and said he wouldn't stop whimpering while he was in his kennel. After some consoling comments, Jamie remained annoyed by Winston and wanted me to do something. So I told her to put Winston on the phone, and I'd try to talk to him. She didn't appreciate my humor.

I have to believe Winston knows he's loved. He gets a lot of care and attention. It won't be long when we miss his puppy days.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Evening Reading

Jamie Is Blogging

Because Mrs. Ford made me some delicious bread pudding last night, I agreed to give her a shout out on the Ford Retort.

Jamie is blogging at Go check it out!

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

An Encouraging Fable

Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, because he owned a beautiful white horse. People offered fabulous prices for the horse, but the old man always refused. “This horse is a friend, not a possession,” he would respond.

One morning the horse was not in the stable. All the villagers said, “You old fool. We told you someone would steal that beautiful horse. You could at least have gotten the money. Now the horse is gone, and you’ve been cursed with misfortune.”

The old man responded, “Perhaps. All I know is that my horse is gone; the rest I do not know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can’t say.”

After fifteen days the horse returned. He hadn’t been stolen; he had run away into the forest. Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses back with him. Once again the village people gathered around the old man and said, “You were right – what we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us.” The old man responded, “Perhaps. Once again you’ve gone too far. How do you know if this is a blessing or a curse? Unless you can see the whole story, how can you judge?” But the people could only see the obvious. The old man now had twelve additional horses that could be broken and sold for a great deal of money.

The old man had a son, an only son. He began to break the wild horses. Unfortunately, after just a few days, he fell from a horse and broke both his legs. Once again the villagers gathered around the old man and said, “You were right. The wild horses were not a blessing; they were a curse. Your only son has broken his legs and now in your old age you have no one to help you. You are poorer than ever.” But the old man said, “Perhaps. Don’t go so far. Say only that my son broke his legs. We have only a fragment of the whole story.”

It so happened that a few weeks later the country went to war with a neighboring country. All the young men of the village were required to join the army. Only the son of the old man was excluded, because he had two broken legs. Once again the people gathered around, crying because there was little chance their sons would return. “You were right, old man. Your son’s accident was a blessing. Our sons are gone forever.”

The old man spoke again. “You people are always quick to jump to conclusions. Only God knows the final story.”