I’m in a bad mood. I wasn’t in a bad mood, but now I am. One of my work mates who I go out of my way to help decided that when I asked him for some help that he wouldn’t return the favour. Thanks dude, way to be a team player. Then to top it off I got home to a funny smell. One of those smells when you walk in the door and you instantly know what happened.
Murray the Great Dane had exploded!
In the kitchen.
Blocking me from access to my beer.
Of course my dog hadn’t really exploded, But his Butt did. The worse case of diarrhea I have seen since my eldest daughters encounter with a dodgy chinese meal. My kids were both home, so of course neither was smart enough to let him out, so I was left to clear up the after effects. So with peg on nose, rubber gloves on hands and a song in my heart I cleaned up Lake Sm-Erie!
So like I said I was in a good mood. But I’m sure it will take me a while to finish this post and I have to go coaching later so when I get home from that I’ll be back to my normal happy self. So I better make the most of this mood.
For those who have somehow forgotten or just haven’t been paying attention, or are new or just don’t care, I am English. NOT BRITISH. Yes technically I’m British, but I prefer to be classed as English. Britain includes Northern Ireland and I don’t want to be associated with those ragamuffins. You Southern Irish, you are fine. I have some very good friends in the south, But you are not part of the U.K. So you don’t count.
For anyone under the age of, for argument’s sake lets say 18, which happens to be the age of my eldest daughter this blog entry is aimed at you. And as I write I realise that somewhere my Mother is laughing and thinking, what comes around goes around. But you crazy kids don’t realise how good you have it these days.
What got me to thinking about this was today when I was picking up daughter number two from her school and saw this.
My daughter doesn’t ride the bus, we have her in school of choice so we have to drive her everywhere. But I looked at all these busses and got back to thinking about my high school days. County Upper had about 1200 children attending in those days, about 1000 now according to wiki. And for all those kids we had two school busses, and they were for the kids who lived outside the town. Anyone else had to walk it. Rain, snow, rain, rain, you get the picture. All these kids jumping on busses here, getting dropped off at home. I’d have loved that.
I had to ride my trusty five speed racing bike the 1.4 miles from my house to school. Going to school was fine. Not that I actually did much studying while I was there. But the bike ride was fine. Early morning, crisp Suffolk air in my lungs, bag with my hardly used schoolbooks slung over my shoulders. Peddling without a care in the world. That would be because the ride to school was all downhill. I’m not talking your Michigan almost flat down hills. I’m talking your big, freewheeling at 200 miles an hour down hills. Zooming as fast as you can head tucked down by the handlebars for aerodynamics because I knew one day I would beat a land speed record. There would be plenty of us Westley Estate kids walking, riding bikes etc. It was a regular march of the penguins played out by a group of 12-16 years olds. And I loved every second.
Going home on the other hand was a nightmare. Tired from a long day of counting train cars during math class and getting stomped on during rugby or field hockey, I then had the long trek home. The ride seemed to take twice as long as the morning run. The main problem was Beetons Way hill. Great in the morning, hell in the evening. according to walkanomics.com the hill has a grade of 5%. Which sounds about right, but it felt a lot steeper and being a young kid it certainly gave me a work out. And I’m sure from all the moaning and groaning that everyone else loved it as much as I did. Too my knowledge only one kid died, and I wish I was joking about that. But I’m also sure that if there was a school bus ride I’d have taken it in a heart beat. Kids over here are spoiled. Make them walk! it would certainly give them something real to moan about, rather than there’s no snacks to eat.
How lucky are these kids? Not only to they get taken door to door but when they get home, the dishwasher has already done their job for them, so they settle down to play computer games and what do the get (left) fantastic graphics, what did I get (right) Manic Miner 8 bit graphics. Spoiled I tells ya. But all those fancy graphics never make up for manic miners playability!
OK I have no idea where I was going with that tangent. So I’ll just say, kids keep off my damn lawn, show your elders some respect!