The first of many

Alright, I have now told over ten people my aspirations to start blogging to get me over the hump and do it. My dismal e-mailing record last summer led me to the conclusion that I need to blog to keep people informed.* The goals I have for this blog are: entertaining stories that make readers want to check the site for new posts daily and reader participation. Yes I have high expectations for this, but I am planning on adventure and good stories.

* My excuse is that Meg always supplied everyone with the best e-mails. I did not want to repeat the same information. The e-mails I would send would be like me telling you the exact same joke she did, only with me butchering the punchline. The question now becomes, "Why isn't she blogging?" Good question.

My chain has been jerked around for the last month and a half by Korea. I am now in Saint Louis awaiting departure. It could be Monday, it could be September 21st, 2023. I have no idea. This has been the most frustrating thing in my life. I'd rather shoot a 67 on 9 holes, then go through the day-to-day guessing game of when we finally leave for Korea. I must say that I have made the most of my opportunity in America.

On Thursday, Pat Smith and I went sailing. Now this was a windy day. Pat knew it was windy because he saw corn stalks bending in the breeze, and he looked up the mph of the wind on-line. I knew it was windy because Pat's sailboat was thrown off the trailer by a rather sizable gust. I went over to the boat to make sure everything was okay, after (of course) making sure every beer bottle in the cooler was not damaged. They were a little shaken but fine (the boat was fine too). On the lake, I could tell it was windy because of the amount of work I had to do. * There was no relaxing time. When I was the skipper, I tried to ride the wind. I'll define riding the wind simply as getting your butt on one side of the boat or else you will capsize. We started to take on water, and Pat yelled out, "release the line." I did... a little to fast and Pat was thrown as far as his boat earlier in the day. So I am in the boat, Pat's in the lake, and I can not tell you my own name I am panicking so much. Luckily, the wind died and Pat swam over.

*The first time Pat and I went sailing was in very moderate conditions. In fact, I was under the impression that sail boats were glorified canoes. It was like a float trip where you never paddled. My life was never in jeopardy. I was able to relax, which is why I thought sailing would be great on my last night in Kansas City. Of course it was the exact opposite, but I am always up for a little adventure.

I called Michelle Wilmore to ask her the name of a favorite Lawrence eatery called Pepperjack's and she invited me to Brooksider. The Brooksider located in... you guessed it Brookside. It is a mere six blocks from my house. Dave dropped me off, and I thought I was going to see Michelle. After six laps through the crowded bar, I soon thought otherwise. I did see Wes from the Real World there again. I think he is now just a professional drinker because Zach and I ran into him months ago at that bar. Michelle, I'll forgive you this time.

Please send me suggestions and don't ever be afraid to leave comments. Leave out grammatical errors please. I am human and I make mistakes.