May 9th-10th - 3-10

Another trip to Ashland, this one quite disturbing. It was for Tieraney's dad's (Bill) birthday. The plan was for his daughters to pitch in and get him a Blu-ray player, which I put a halt on because they don't have a TV that can handle Blu-ray picture. Makes no sense...am I the only one who reads about these things? Talk moved to a gift certificate or a detailing package for his Saturn Sky. But then I get a call from Tally saying they're not doing that because they're going to buy him a gun, and do I want to go on it.

Excuse me? Do I want to help a 60-year-old man who watches my children buy a gun?

Uh...no.

But, the gun was bought. Some kind of revolver. Do they even still make those? It was given to him, and passed around to those inclined to touch such things, and at one point Tieraney's grandfather is looking at it and it's pointed right at my head. I swear to God, there's a gun pointing straight into my face. I politely ask Earl, who's on oxygen and lives in a retirement home, to kindly point the gun in a different direction. "Oh, it's not loaded," he says.

"Isn't the first rule of gun ownership that the gun is always loaded?" I ask.

Chris, the guy who bought the gun and owns the AK-47s and isn't a member of the NRA but has been to Ted Nugent's house many times (I crapping you negative) is quite proud of me for knowing that. I'm not sure if I knew that or just wanted it to be true, because, you know, gun pointing at my head.



So, my kids can never spend the night with their grandparents again.

Then, the day ends even worse. Tieraney were having a late night "conversation," if you know what I'm saying, when Sophie interrupted us by crying out in her sleep. Nightmare, I guess. I tried to keep talking, but Sophie interrupted again, which kind of kills the desire to talk, you know? So, I never got to finish what I was trying to say. Tieraney didn't care. She was done with the conversation. I had a few more points I wanted to make, and now I don't get to. Bummer. Hope I don't forget what I was going to say.

Sunday, I was out at the old house mowing and putting the finishing paint touches on the garage. I also tried to clear some of the crap out of the attic, but there was more there than I thought. I'm too old to moving computer equipment, baby clothes, old gaming systems and who knows what else down 2-1/2 flights of steps, so I put it off until I can get some help.

I did find out that Tieraney and I are action heroes, however. After getting home from church, Tieraney carried some stuff into the house while I went in to let the dog out. When we went back to the garage, the Soul was rolling out of it. Sophie had climbed into the front seat and bumped the gear shift into neutral. Tieraney and I both ran to the car; her to the passenger side where Sophie was sitting and freaking out, and me to the driver's side where the breaks are. See? Because Tieraney goes into protection mode. I go into "I can't afford my car repairs" mode. With the car moving at a decent clip after hitting the slope outside the garage, Tieraney and I each got our door open and hopped in. She grabbed Sophie, I hit the brake, and the day was saved! Sophie's freaked out, Tieraney's freaked out (although calmer than I would've expected), and I'm thinking, "I'm the Tomb Raider! I can jump into moving cars!"

The weekend is almost too weird to even make a call. Like the sprinklers came on or something. But we'll say the ball was snapped over the QB's head. He got back to it, and threw a desperation pass to avoid the sack, but it slipped out of his hands. One of our linemen caught it, and rumbled forward for four yards before tripping over his own feet. The play is now under review to determine if it was a fumble or a forward pass.