Murray's Mom: "I love spending money on new appliances and new household stuff. Especially when it's not my money."
Brien's mom is here. His brother Kit is in the house on his spring break. Things are happening.
Here's what has happened since they got here on Friday afternoon:
We have a new oven
We have a new dishwasher
We have new kitchen cabinets
We have a new toilet in Brien's room
We have new rugs in the two living rooms
We have a the Direct TV set up for the bigger living room
We have wall pictures all over the house
There are new coat racks and key chains holders by the front door
There is a new white board on the Wall of Fame
This is Monday morning. I think we will have a new house on a new golf course by Friday.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Friday, April 07, 2006
The MPC Tour Update
The MPC Tour made its second stop this year at Colony West in lovely Tamarac, Florida. Here is today's leaderboard, followed by the season totals thus far:
Sleuth: 83, 11 skins
Jamey: 91, 5 skins
Murray: 97, 0 skins
Season skin totals:
Sleuth: 20 skins
Jamey: 13 skins
Murray: 0 skins
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
A day in the Fort Lauderdale ghetto
Tuesday saw the full spectrum of socio-economic lifestyles in the 25 mile radius in which MPC operates.
I began the morning on top of a tile roof in a small enclave of Carolina, a marvelous planned community just miles from our homoffice that situates most of the beautiful homes around a pristine golf course (even in prosperous south Florida, the residents long for something more glorious, more peaceful, more heavenly, and they wishfully name their communites after those dreamy places). The homeowner is in his mid-30's, works at his own liesure, and was more concerned about his new puppy hunting dog that he was the thousand $$ roofing job. His living room was decorated with numerous hunting "trophies," and I later found that he takes yearly pilgrimages to the promised land to hunt in Barnwell, South Carolina. This man was not hurting for cash.
I then traveled only about 10 miles (as the crow flies), where I measured several large duplex homes. None of the residents owned the homes, and most didn't even know who the landlord was or how to reach them.
It was not uncommon to see something like a 100 ft. coaxial cable, exposed and above ground, stretched from the tv, out the livingroom window, through the sunroom, around the shubbery bed, across the backyard and straigh to the neighbors cable box, where Resident 1 was presumably "borrowing" Resident 2's cable access (see picture). Brilliant.
I knocked on one of the tenant's doors. The window was open, and inside I could hear the television broadcasting its quality afternoon programming, while several young children argued over a game they were playing. Upon my knock, they all began to chatter loudly and I could hear them clawing and fighting their way around each other and over the furniture as they tried to be the first to get the door. The undiscernable, ebonical noise reached a feverish pitch, highlighted by an older woman yelling from a back room of the house. At the peak of the yelling, I noticed the blinds part, and a little boy peaked through and started straight at me, and then disappointingly (and yet with a bit of suprise) announced to the house: "Ah, its just a white man."
Signing off,
just a white man
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Reflections on the NCAA Tourney
These are not my words, but for someone as competitive and emotionally involved in most sports as I am, the following thoughts ring true, and also cut to the quick. His prayer is mine.
"The thrill of victory abounds in the NCAA men's basketball tournament. But sometimes it's the agony of defeat that sticks with you.
Duke senior J. J. Redick and Gonzaga junior Adam Morrison grabbed the headlines all year as they battled each other to lead the nation in scoring. Morrison invited comparisons to other rangy forwards with smooth jumpers. Redick broke all sorts of records with a shot that surprised you if it didn't rip the net. Sports Illustrated posed the two back to back on its March 6 cover and asked, "Who's the Best?"
But those stories were just appetizers for the sport's annual feast, the Big Dance. Both stars had something to prove in the tournament. Gonzaga had disappointed the last couple years after shedding their underdog reputation and earning high seeds. Duke expects all its stars to win at least one national championship. But Redick's teams had not yet translated ACC accolades into NCAA success in his first three tourney tries.
Neither will be leading his team to the Final Four this weekend. The thrill of George Mason has replaced the agony of unfulfilled potential. Last Thursday, Redick couldn't shake LSU's athletic defenders. Morrison couldn't stop his team from blowing a 17-point lead. Neither could fight back tears when faced with the end of their college careers. Redick's face reddened and his eyes welled when Coach Krzyzewski pulled him from the game with a few seconds left. Morrison's mouth contorted with pain as UCLA took the lead. After the final buzzer, he crumpled into a heap and bawled on the hardwood. He needed his opponents—subjects of his infamous trash talking for 40 minutes—to cut short their postgame celebration and pick him up.
Not all of us grieve our life's most painful moments before a live national audience. We're the better for it. The same media that touted this two-man contest turned on its fallen stars. ESPN the Magazine columnist Bill Simmons wrote, "During this year's March Madness, we've seen more bawling than in the entire 1993 season of Sally Jesse Raphael." Loud voices on talk radio expressed no little glee as they brandished their own machismo and criticized the show of emotion. The Chicago Tribune offered a subtle dig as the newspaper played on an opponent's nickname. "Redick disappeared for the third time in four Sweet 16 games in his ballyhooed career," the newspaper observed. "He hit just 3 of 18 shots as LSU, led by its own "Big Baby," Glen Davis, toppled the nation's No. 1 team 62-54."
The on-court emotion showed only part of the shock and pain these two endured after realizing they would never reach their goals. Redick and Morrison wore their school colors with pride. They were the face of their schools. But no more. They will never again play with such close friends to the raucous cheers of their classmates. (Morrison is expected to leave school early and enter the NBA Draft.) I only played high school football, but I'll never forget my last game. On a wet, fog-obscured night, we lost the regional championship to one of our closest rivals. I etched the evening's finality in my memory by tossing my mud-caked cleats into the locker-room garbage. I don't remember if I cried, but it hurt. I spent years training and dreaming about my senior year. In a moment, it all ended.
Sports take us through emotional peaks and valleys. Christianity, too, stirs the affections. Scripture teems with visceral emotion. The exiles mourned when they lost Jerusalem, the very home of God. "By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion" (Ps. 137:1). Paul poured his soul into the beloved churches he planted and encouraged. And despite the hardship inflicted on him by his fellow Jews, he never got over their rejection of Jesus. "I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were cursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, those of my own race, the people of Israel" (Rom. 9:2-4).
I only pray we all have something—much more important than basketball—that we cherish so dearly that losing it would bring us to tears."
There IS Crying in Basketball. If only we all had something so precious to weep about.
by Collin Hansen
Christianity Today
"The thrill of victory abounds in the NCAA men's basketball tournament. But sometimes it's the agony of defeat that sticks with you.
Duke senior J. J. Redick and Gonzaga junior Adam Morrison grabbed the headlines all year as they battled each other to lead the nation in scoring. Morrison invited comparisons to other rangy forwards with smooth jumpers. Redick broke all sorts of records with a shot that surprised you if it didn't rip the net. Sports Illustrated posed the two back to back on its March 6 cover and asked, "Who's the Best?"
But those stories were just appetizers for the sport's annual feast, the Big Dance. Both stars had something to prove in the tournament. Gonzaga had disappointed the last couple years after shedding their underdog reputation and earning high seeds. Duke expects all its stars to win at least one national championship. But Redick's teams had not yet translated ACC accolades into NCAA success in his first three tourney tries.
Neither will be leading his team to the Final Four this weekend. The thrill of George Mason has replaced the agony of unfulfilled potential. Last Thursday, Redick couldn't shake LSU's athletic defenders. Morrison couldn't stop his team from blowing a 17-point lead. Neither could fight back tears when faced with the end of their college careers. Redick's face reddened and his eyes welled when Coach Krzyzewski pulled him from the game with a few seconds left. Morrison's mouth contorted with pain as UCLA took the lead. After the final buzzer, he crumpled into a heap and bawled on the hardwood. He needed his opponents—subjects of his infamous trash talking for 40 minutes—to cut short their postgame celebration and pick him up.
Not all of us grieve our life's most painful moments before a live national audience. We're the better for it. The same media that touted this two-man contest turned on its fallen stars. ESPN the Magazine columnist Bill Simmons wrote, "During this year's March Madness, we've seen more bawling than in the entire 1993 season of Sally Jesse Raphael." Loud voices on talk radio expressed no little glee as they brandished their own machismo and criticized the show of emotion. The Chicago Tribune offered a subtle dig as the newspaper played on an opponent's nickname. "Redick disappeared for the third time in four Sweet 16 games in his ballyhooed career," the newspaper observed. "He hit just 3 of 18 shots as LSU, led by its own "Big Baby," Glen Davis, toppled the nation's No. 1 team 62-54."
The on-court emotion showed only part of the shock and pain these two endured after realizing they would never reach their goals. Redick and Morrison wore their school colors with pride. They were the face of their schools. But no more. They will never again play with such close friends to the raucous cheers of their classmates. (Morrison is expected to leave school early and enter the NBA Draft.) I only played high school football, but I'll never forget my last game. On a wet, fog-obscured night, we lost the regional championship to one of our closest rivals. I etched the evening's finality in my memory by tossing my mud-caked cleats into the locker-room garbage. I don't remember if I cried, but it hurt. I spent years training and dreaming about my senior year. In a moment, it all ended.
Sports take us through emotional peaks and valleys. Christianity, too, stirs the affections. Scripture teems with visceral emotion. The exiles mourned when they lost Jerusalem, the very home of God. "By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion" (Ps. 137:1). Paul poured his soul into the beloved churches he planted and encouraged. And despite the hardship inflicted on him by his fellow Jews, he never got over their rejection of Jesus. "I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were cursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, those of my own race, the people of Israel" (Rom. 9:2-4).
I only pray we all have something—much more important than basketball—that we cherish so dearly that losing it would bring us to tears."
There IS Crying in Basketball. If only we all had something so precious to weep about.
by Collin Hansen
Christianity Today
Friday, March 31, 2006
Golf
Golf is a weird game, if you really stop to think about it. Go ahead, stop to think about it for a minute. While most sports include some sort of "ball", golf falls in the category of sports which require the use of an additional object that is used to direct or guide or manipulate the ball. Unlike hockey, lacrosse, or even baseball and cricket, golf is by far the least "contact" sport of them all. This explains its wide age range of players. It's also a fairly expensive sport, with a decidedly "upper class" flair to it. It's also the only sport I know of that businessmen and executives will play during a meeting. But I guess what gets me most is just the idea of it all - the fact that we would pay lots of money to stand several hundred yards away from a hole in the ground of about 108mm wide, and hit a small ball as hard as we can with some metal sticks and try and get it in the hole while avoiding trees, lakes, streams, large piles of sand, hills, etc. Its weird, but there is also something beautiful about it.
This morning at 8:50, Meyer's Pride Construction hosted its first Skins Game. The field was small, only three competitors, compared to the usual four. The course, Colony West. The weather was beautiful, a cool 74 degrees all morning. The competition was tight and full of drama, with the outcome hanging in the balance until the final putt on the 18th hole. I believe a good time was had by all.
We hope that this can become a regular monthly outing, a tradition unlike any other. For now, I was just content to be in the beautiful outdoors, surrounded by hundreds of roofs with blue tarps but not caring a bit about them.
In other news, Jamey has just become the first person I have ever met to go the dentist, only to have the dentist tell him to quit brushing. Apparently he brushes his teeth as hard as he hits a golf ball, and he is danger of a receding gumline and possible "bone damage." I believe the exact term was a "gum divot."
This morning at 8:50, Meyer's Pride Construction hosted its first Skins Game. The field was small, only three competitors, compared to the usual four. The course, Colony West. The weather was beautiful, a cool 74 degrees all morning. The competition was tight and full of drama, with the outcome hanging in the balance until the final putt on the 18th hole. I believe a good time was had by all.
We hope that this can become a regular monthly outing, a tradition unlike any other. For now, I was just content to be in the beautiful outdoors, surrounded by hundreds of roofs with blue tarps but not caring a bit about them.
In other news, Jamey has just become the first person I have ever met to go the dentist, only to have the dentist tell him to quit brushing. Apparently he brushes his teeth as hard as he hits a golf ball, and he is danger of a receding gumline and possible "bone damage." I believe the exact term was a "gum divot."
Thursday, March 30, 2006
You might be a Hebrew hick if...
In my current slow but steady trek through the pages of Genesis, a thought occurred to me yesterday that I have been chewing on ever since.
I believe that I stumbled across the first (and maybe only) Hebrew redneck worthy of Jeff Foxworthy approval. Esau the Stable Guy.
Here's why i'm willing to grant Esau redneck status:
Esau loved to hunt, and he was a man of the earth.
His nickname was "Red." This is in part because of his thick hair, not just on his head but "all over like a hairy garmet."
He gave up the money his old man would have left him for a bowl of soup. Lentil soup, actually, which is like the Hebrew equivalent of the Ramen you can buy at Walmart for 15 cents. Probably went down like this:
Esau: "Hey man, lemme have a swaller of that there stew ya got cookin there."
Jacob: "First give me the deed to the double wide and the keys to Daddy's F-150 that you'll get when the old man finally kicks it."
Esau: "Gah dang man I'm so hungry I could eat a horse. Aaight, you gimme some of that there soup, I'll give ya them deeds and keys. Shoot man, what the hell, you gimme that whole pot and I'll give ya them new tires I been meaning to put on that truck. Now get r done, man."
Jacob: First swear to me.
Esau: Look here you @*!# piece of *$#!. Gimme that soup 'fore I kick your ass so hard you'll have to drop your pants just to chew your food.
His nickname was Red. This is also because of the color of the soup. This is like calling a guy Bud because of what he drinks.
Esau lived at home until he was 40.
Esau married two girls at once.
Then Esau married a few more times.
Jacob and Esau were prophecied to be two nations struggling against each other. Esau was the Southern nation.
There's a lot more, but I'll leave it at that for now. To conclude, here is a picture of what I imagine Esau might have looked like, were he to have gone to the racetrack one day.
I believe that I stumbled across the first (and maybe only) Hebrew redneck worthy of Jeff Foxworthy approval. Esau the Stable Guy.
Here's why i'm willing to grant Esau redneck status:
Esau loved to hunt, and he was a man of the earth.
His nickname was "Red." This is in part because of his thick hair, not just on his head but "all over like a hairy garmet."
He gave up the money his old man would have left him for a bowl of soup. Lentil soup, actually, which is like the Hebrew equivalent of the Ramen you can buy at Walmart for 15 cents. Probably went down like this:
Esau: "Hey man, lemme have a swaller of that there stew ya got cookin there."
Jacob: "First give me the deed to the double wide and the keys to Daddy's F-150 that you'll get when the old man finally kicks it."
Esau: "Gah dang man I'm so hungry I could eat a horse. Aaight, you gimme some of that there soup, I'll give ya them deeds and keys. Shoot man, what the hell, you gimme that whole pot and I'll give ya them new tires I been meaning to put on that truck. Now get r done, man."
Jacob: First swear to me.
Esau: Look here you @*!# piece of *$#!. Gimme that soup 'fore I kick your ass so hard you'll have to drop your pants just to chew your food.
His nickname was Red. This is also because of the color of the soup. This is like calling a guy Bud because of what he drinks.
Esau lived at home until he was 40.
Esau married two girls at once.
Then Esau married a few more times.
Jacob and Esau were prophecied to be two nations struggling against each other. Esau was the Southern nation.
There's a lot more, but I'll leave it at that for now. To conclude, here is a picture of what I imagine Esau might have looked like, were he to have gone to the racetrack one day.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Sunday, March 26, 2006
What do Kiera Knightley and Daler Mehndi have in common?
This is a question I lay in bed pondering each night until I fall asleep. Actually, tonight is the only night i've ever thought about this, and it's only because of some quick Google research I just did.
Preface: As I was working on some stuff earlier this evening, I turned on the tube for some background noise, hoping to find a good history channel special or the animal planet marathon. Instead my channel surfing stumbled across a video starring my favorite actress. Keira Knightley. Bend it Like Beckham has been on my list of must see movies for a while, not because I had to see the move, but because I must see Keira. Perhaps its because she's cute as a button (or as Dave Page says, superfly). Perhaps its because of her cute accent. Probably its both. Either way, Keira Knightley is must see TV.
The movie was not that great. I kept working, looking up only when I heard her voice. But then I heard something else, music that made my ears perk up like a watch dog's. It was Indian pop rock. It was Daler Mehndi.
As it turns out, it probably wasn't Daler Mehndi (though I haven't searched deep enough into the Bend it Like Beckham credits to see). But it definitely was bhangra music, a type of Indian harvest folk dance music, which apparently has seen quite a revival in recent years thanks in huge part to Daler Mehndi and his blending of this folk music with upbeat hip hop rhythms.
For those of you unfamiliar with Daler Mehndi, check out one of his popular music videos, Tunak Tunak Tan, and then try to imagine what life were like if 35 wild college males, all living on the same hall, were to adopt this as their "daily soundtrack" and incorporate it in every aspect of life, from skits to walk-off's to naked dance parties to study music. Welcome to life on Second South. Those were the days...
For those of you who know firsthand the Daler way, I bring you glad tidings of great joy. The Daler Mehndi Fan Club is giving you the opportunity to be the Dalerious DJ ”M” by hosting a TUNAK TUNAK TAN REMIX CONTEST. They are taking your entries now.
Life is good.
Also, apparently we are not the only ones to have learned the Tunak dance and recorded it on video.
Preface: As I was working on some stuff earlier this evening, I turned on the tube for some background noise, hoping to find a good history channel special or the animal planet marathon. Instead my channel surfing stumbled across a video starring my favorite actress. Keira Knightley. Bend it Like Beckham has been on my list of must see movies for a while, not because I had to see the move, but because I must see Keira. Perhaps its because she's cute as a button (or as Dave Page says, superfly). Perhaps its because of her cute accent. Probably its both. Either way, Keira Knightley is must see TV.
The movie was not that great. I kept working, looking up only when I heard her voice. But then I heard something else, music that made my ears perk up like a watch dog's. It was Indian pop rock. It was Daler Mehndi.
As it turns out, it probably wasn't Daler Mehndi (though I haven't searched deep enough into the Bend it Like Beckham credits to see). But it definitely was bhangra music, a type of Indian harvest folk dance music, which apparently has seen quite a revival in recent years thanks in huge part to Daler Mehndi and his blending of this folk music with upbeat hip hop rhythms.
For those of you unfamiliar with Daler Mehndi, check out one of his popular music videos, Tunak Tunak Tan, and then try to imagine what life were like if 35 wild college males, all living on the same hall, were to adopt this as their "daily soundtrack" and incorporate it in every aspect of life, from skits to walk-off's to naked dance parties to study music. Welcome to life on Second South. Those were the days...
For those of you who know firsthand the Daler way, I bring you glad tidings of great joy. The Daler Mehndi Fan Club is giving you the opportunity to be the Dalerious DJ ”M” by hosting a TUNAK TUNAK TAN REMIX CONTEST. They are taking your entries now.
Life is good.
Also, apparently we are not the only ones to have learned the Tunak dance and recorded it on video.
Business at MPC is really good...
...so I bought a new car.
Here it is in my driveway this morning.
Actually I'm just kidding. That is not really my car. I don't even own a car. I own a truck. My truck is in the shop, however, having the engine worked on, so they gave me a rental car for the weekend. This is it. Sure beats your Sebrine, huh Marshall Rowe?
Here it is in my driveway this morning.
Actually I'm just kidding. That is not really my car. I don't even own a car. I own a truck. My truck is in the shop, however, having the engine worked on, so they gave me a rental car for the weekend. This is it. Sure beats your Sebrine, huh Marshall Rowe?
Friday, March 24, 2006
Vengeance is Allah's
The fighting Gamecocks of the University of South Carolina upset Cincinnati in the basketball NIT quarterfinals tonight. Some will argue this is because two of Cincinnati's starters were declared ineligible 2 hours prior to the game.
One of the starters who was not allowed to play is named Jihad Muhammad. With a name like that I would have declared him ineligible too, mostly for homeland security reasons.
I can only hope, for the safety of Carolina fans everywhere, that Jihad Muhammad takes losing better than I do.
One of the starters who was not allowed to play is named Jihad Muhammad. With a name like that I would have declared him ineligible too, mostly for homeland security reasons.
I can only hope, for the safety of Carolina fans everywhere, that Jihad Muhammad takes losing better than I do.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Topographic Variety
My conversation in line at the USPS yesterday:
Me: (to the cute latino girl working behind the counter) That's a beautiful name.
Carolina (the cute latino USPS employee): Thank you.
Me: That's where I'm from, so I'm a bit partial. (she smiled shyly, but I could tell my charm had won her over)
Carolina: Ahh. So why are you in Florida.
Me: Roofing. Business.
Carolina: So you are making lots of money?
Me: Hopefully. (I was hesitant to answer - I didn't want her to love me simply for my money)
Pause in the conversation as she gets my stamps.
Carolina: Will you ever go back?
Me: To Carolina? Oh yeah, most definitely.
Carolina: You do not like it here? Why not? It is so nice, we have beaches .
Me: Yeah, but its just too bland here. I love it at home. We have beaches in Carolina, but we also have forests and mountains and lakes and rivers and colors and smells that Florida doesn't have. And space, we have a lot more space. Everything is crowded here.
Carolina: (laughing) We have mountians. Just drive down Sample and you will run into a Mountain.
Me: That is not a mountain.
Carolina: Sure it is.
Me: Well, south florida doesn't have seasons. I mean, its still officially winter and its 74 degrees outside.
Carolina: Ok. You win.
Me: Do you have any free stamps?
Carolina: (wink) nope.
And that is how you flirt with a postal worker.
Me: (to the cute latino girl working behind the counter) That's a beautiful name.
Carolina (the cute latino USPS employee): Thank you.
Me: That's where I'm from, so I'm a bit partial. (she smiled shyly, but I could tell my charm had won her over)
Carolina: Ahh. So why are you in Florida.
Me: Roofing. Business.
Carolina: So you are making lots of money?
Me: Hopefully. (I was hesitant to answer - I didn't want her to love me simply for my money)
Pause in the conversation as she gets my stamps.
Carolina: Will you ever go back?
Me: To Carolina? Oh yeah, most definitely.
Carolina: You do not like it here? Why not? It is so nice, we have beaches .
Me: Yeah, but its just too bland here. I love it at home. We have beaches in Carolina, but we also have forests and mountains and lakes and rivers and colors and smells that Florida doesn't have. And space, we have a lot more space. Everything is crowded here.
Carolina: (laughing) We have mountians. Just drive down Sample and you will run into a Mountain.
Me: That is not a mountain.
Carolina: Sure it is.
Me: Well, south florida doesn't have seasons. I mean, its still officially winter and its 74 degrees outside.
Carolina: Ok. You win.
Me: Do you have any free stamps?
Carolina: (wink) nope.
And that is how you flirt with a postal worker.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
On being a salesman
Being a salesman requires a certain sort of charisma and charm. It requires that you be good at the art of "small talk. It requires a sixth sense of being able to pick up on little bits of information unknowingly supplied to you by the people you are trying to sell to and turning that information into conversational topics that slowly earn you confidence and trust in the mind of the customer. It requires you walk a fine line between humor that puts your customer at ease and humor that makes you look pathetic. It requires that you lead the customer to a decision, rather than push them there. A good salesman should be able to anticipate the customers questions and concerns and confidently answer them without sounding like a condescending jerk know-it-all. Patience and Persistance are salesman virtues.
I'm not sure if I possess these qualities. But I'm working on it.
My sister, Ashleigh, and my friend, Tricia, went to the Phillipines last summer. This is important info because it works its way into what I call my "experiences that I can share to help build confidence and relationships to get sales repertoire."
Pictured below is Victor and Maria. I sold them a roof. Maria is a 3F person. Filipino, Fiesty and Friendly. I called her Ate Maria. She liked that. While I tried to explain the legal mumbo-jumbo of our contract to her husband, she kept bringing me magazines with Filipino male models, explaining to me how beautiful they were and pointing out the ones that she thought I resembled. Her husband told me I should take my roof earnings and move to the Philipines, where I would live like a rock star.
I used Shleigh and Tricia's experiences in Manila and Los Banos to gain her favor, which in turn encouraged her and her husband to sign my papers. I am slowly becoming a good salesman.
I'm not sure if I possess these qualities. But I'm working on it.
My sister, Ashleigh, and my friend, Tricia, went to the Phillipines last summer. This is important info because it works its way into what I call my "experiences that I can share to help build confidence and relationships to get sales repertoire."
Pictured below is Victor and Maria. I sold them a roof. Maria is a 3F person. Filipino, Fiesty and Friendly. I called her Ate Maria. She liked that. While I tried to explain the legal mumbo-jumbo of our contract to her husband, she kept bringing me magazines with Filipino male models, explaining to me how beautiful they were and pointing out the ones that she thought I resembled. Her husband told me I should take my roof earnings and move to the Philipines, where I would live like a rock star.
I used Shleigh and Tricia's experiences in Manila and Los Banos to gain her favor, which in turn encouraged her and her husband to sign my papers. I am slowly becoming a good salesman.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Monday's with Murray and GW
I was sitting at the BFD doing some work when Brien entered the office with the mail. Without saying a work, although I could hear him smiling, he plopped a small wooden gavel down on the desk (pictured below) and handed me a handful of papers, which included a picture, an award, and the following PRESS RELEASE:
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
BRIEN MEYER APPOINTED TO BUSINESS ADVISORY COUNCIL
Washington, D.C. – The National Republican Congressional Committee announced that Brien Mayer has been appointed to serve on the Business Advisory Council (BAC) in recognition of valuable contributions and dedication to the Republican Party.
Meyer will serve the state of Florida and is expected to play a crucial role in the Party’s efforts to involved top business people in the process of government reform.
The Business Advisory Council is part of the National Republican Congressional Committee, and is dedicated to making sure that small business has a voice in Washington.
Meyer, who has long supported Republican ideals, particularly debt reduction and tax reform, will be a key member of the Council.
Lest you accuse me of joking, I have included pictures as proof that I speak truth.
This also reminds me of one of 211’s most memorable quotes, which to this day Stephen Strawbridge loves to recall. During our sophomore year of college (2000-2001) Brien Meyer was overheard talking on the telephone in his closet office, firmly chastising someone on the other end of the line by saying “I don’t care who he’s running against, George Bush is a good man!”
Meet Murray, my yellow dog Republican friend/roommate/landlord/partner.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
BRIEN MEYER APPOINTED TO BUSINESS ADVISORY COUNCIL
Washington, D.C. – The National Republican Congressional Committee announced that Brien Mayer has been appointed to serve on the Business Advisory Council (BAC) in recognition of valuable contributions and dedication to the Republican Party.
Meyer will serve the state of Florida and is expected to play a crucial role in the Party’s efforts to involved top business people in the process of government reform.
The Business Advisory Council is part of the National Republican Congressional Committee, and is dedicated to making sure that small business has a voice in Washington.
Meyer, who has long supported Republican ideals, particularly debt reduction and tax reform, will be a key member of the Council.
Lest you accuse me of joking, I have included pictures as proof that I speak truth.
This also reminds me of one of 211’s most memorable quotes, which to this day Stephen Strawbridge loves to recall. During our sophomore year of college (2000-2001) Brien Meyer was overheard talking on the telephone in his closet office, firmly chastising someone on the other end of the line by saying “I don’t care who he’s running against, George Bush is a good man!”
Meet Murray, my yellow dog Republican friend/roommate/landlord/partner.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Show us the money
Today was an important day for MPC. Actually, yesterday was also important, and helped prepare the way for the important day today. Yesterday we finally purchased our liability insurance. We are now fully legit and ready to do business. This was important for numerous reasons, perhaps most importantly because we can now receive leads from our leads companies. Since Monday afternoon the leads have been pouring in.
Because of these leads, we were able to accomplish something that no one in the history of MPC has done to date - collect a check. Yes, after months of expeneses and billls, MPC has finally begun to get some income and revenue. woohoo.
Here is the Sleuth with the check.
and here is Murray preparing to do submit our first insurance claim, as a result of the Sleuth's sale.
Floridians, prepare to be served. Insurance companies, prepare to be pestered. Roofs, say hello to ol' Slippery. Life outside of work, prepare to suck.
Because of these leads, we were able to accomplish something that no one in the history of MPC has done to date - collect a check. Yes, after months of expeneses and billls, MPC has finally begun to get some income and revenue. woohoo.
Here is the Sleuth with the check.
and here is Murray preparing to do submit our first insurance claim, as a result of the Sleuth's sale.
Floridians, prepare to be served. Insurance companies, prepare to be pestered. Roofs, say hello to ol' Slippery. Life outside of work, prepare to suck.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Monday's with Murray (and Hansel)
Normally, on Monday's I put pictures of Murray on here because of his inherently photogenic nature. He is pictured here with my sister, Shleigh, who is also pretty dang cute on camera.
However, neither can compare to my male model friend, Hansel Pharaoh. He's so hot right now.
However, neither can compare to my male model friend, Hansel Pharaoh. He's so hot right now.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
An ode to SB06
Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred mind Is like to that above.
Before our Father’s throne We pour our ardent prayers;
Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one Our comforts and our cares.
We share each other’s woes, Our mutual burdens bear;
And often for each other flows The sympathizing tear.
When we asunder part, It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart, And hope to meet again.
This glorious hope revives Our courage by the way;
While each in expectation lives, And longs to see the day.
From sorrow, toil and pain, And sin, we shall be free,
And perfect love and friendship reign Through all eternity.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Look away, look away, look away Dixie land
I received my first letter of acceptance/denial for law school. As they would have it, the folks at the University of Mississippi have extended the hand of fellowship and have graciously asked that I attend their law school this fall. Although Ole Miss was not my top choice by any means, it is nice to know that I have a fall back school, and it is somewhat a relief for the waiting game to finally be broken.
Some would say that Ole Miss is in fact a perfect fit for me:
1. It's Deep South.
2. They appreciate their college football.
3. I already dress like an Ole Miss boy.
4. The school is in Oxford.
5. They are Rebels.
I do not disagree with these things.
While we're on the topic of acceptance letters, my sister Jennifer has also been accepted to another school - this one a little more prestigious than Ole Miss.
And Brittany is going to Covenant next fall.
Them Luthers are getting ejumucated.
Friday, March 03, 2006
SB06
Working for yourself makes you feel young. What I mean is, because we at Meyer's Pride basically set our own schedule, Brien and I are looking forward to being able to take off a goodly portion of next week to entertain some out of town guests.
How does this make you feel young, you ask?
By out of town guests, I mean 14 college students (my sister and friends, Brien's sister and friends) on spring break staying in our humble mansion. By taking off work to entertain, we enter in to their world, thereby reliving and experiencing vicariously through their visit the whole phenomenon known as spring break.
Being in construction sales is like Old School for the working man - all of the fun of college, with none of the entangling comittments of the real world.
Roofs of Florida, I promise to revisit your well being next week. In the meantime, try not to leak or anything.
How does this make you feel young, you ask?
By out of town guests, I mean 14 college students (my sister and friends, Brien's sister and friends) on spring break staying in our humble mansion. By taking off work to entertain, we enter in to their world, thereby reliving and experiencing vicariously through their visit the whole phenomenon known as spring break.
Being in construction sales is like Old School for the working man - all of the fun of college, with none of the entangling comittments of the real world.
Roofs of Florida, I promise to revisit your well being next week. In the meantime, try not to leak or anything.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
