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The only thing I was missing last night was my sandbox because I felt like a kid again when those Snowbirds buzzed the Gas City, a few times.

And I wasn’t alone either in my love for anything fast and shiny as the neighbors had the doors open and their necks craned towards the sky too.

Being a country boy, firetrucks and airplanes mesmerized me, mostly because you don’t see a lot of that action on the gravel roads of home. I won’t blink an eye when Farmer Joe rolls into town with his 5 ton grain truck or the combine with the triple wide header inches it’s way towards you but if I see a ride with sirens on it, it’s like Grade 1 all over. I stop what I’m doing and all focus is on the red truck with the flashing lights.

It’s good to feel like a kid again, even if it was only for a few fleeting moments.

In fact, I’m feeling so lazy today I could barely use my hand to cut and paste today’s column taken directly from the MH News.

So Long To a Great Friend- Food

I’m still not really sure how this happened but here I am, approximately ten days into the 100 Mile Challenge and it already feels like it’s been one hundred days. For those of you unaware of the 100 Mile Challenge, I hope you never hear about it and for those of you that have but refuse to hop on board, I applaud your stubbornness. For 100 days, the lawdy mama and I have committed ourselves to only ingesting food and drink that has been grown and produced within a 100 mile radius of our home.

An assortment of fine folks have simply asked ‘why’ and the only response that rings true to my heart is that my better half caught me in a moment of weakness because I’d give up all the foxes in Fox Valley if I could pull a Superman II maneuver and back my life up ten days plus one more. You’ll pass me on the street and think to yourself, ‘Now there goes a guy who loves his food’ and you’d be all the way right. I’ve even concocted many a menu item after shoddy service while eating out but I’ll leave that subject for another time, possibly with another edition of the Eleven Dollar List.

Similar to a F1 racing auto that’s finely tuned, so is this weathered and far from chiseled temple, built to run perfectly on a steady flow of beer and salt. I remember once pumping diesel fuel into Boner’s 1984, 4 cylinder, made-for-gas-Tempo and while it ran, it didn’t run well. The same can be said for this neglected form of a body that I carry around; I can get by on rhubarb and blueberries but it’s incredibly tough on the engine, ultimately suffering in a lack of performance.

Being raised on a farm does have its advantages and I have shown a true appreciation for farm fresh eggs, milk from the cow, not to mention all its bi-products like an inch thick rib eye from the moment I knew what my incisors were for. The problem doesn’t lie in what I can eat but rather what I can’t, namely salt and pepper. To think the darlings of the spice world, and not a cold barley sandwich is what I ultimately miss is a serious noggin’ scratcher. I’ve been ingesting a lot of homemade vegetable soup since the inauguration of this self inflicted, do-it-yourself-rehab center but without the mighty ‘S’ & ‘P’ at your beckoned call or at least patiently waiting for you on the kitchen table, my soup has been tasting a lot like water with carrots in it. At least I still have butter, and the winery from Maple Creek.

Sure Edmonton beat my Bombers last week. . . . . . .by 2 points.

Last night Edmonton lost to Montreal . . . . . . . by 34 points

The final was 50-16 actually with 31 of those points coming in the 4th quarter.

I have no idea where Edmonton was but I’ve found their new QB.

Let me introduce you to Quarterback Extraordinaire- Rock 105.3 Jock Ian Sharek

Yes Ladies, he’s single.

Now I know that the headlines are talking about the whole Michael Jackson thing and it’s so very unfortunate that this has taken precedent over the passing of one of the greatest sex symbols our society has seen, Farrah Fawcett.

The original Charlie’s Angel, Farrah had that million dollar smile that captured the hearts and imagination of the world, espeicially here in North America.

Personally, it was the poster of Farrah in her red bathing suit that did it for me as a young boy growing up in what could be considered the ‘jiggly era’ of television.

Confident women have always appealed to me as opposed to arrogant women and while there is a big difference, I won’t get into the details here. Farrah exuded confidence to the point of posing in Playboy at the age of 50.

If there was ever a fitting time to sit down to a weekend of Charlie’s Angels, this would be the time. (the first season only however)

With nothing but sunshine and an open road calling my name, I’m down and bound for the Patricia Hotel today where a guy can cook his own steak via the Road King.

The plan of action is to stave off the Transcanada by means of the Hays Maze before heading north to Dinosaur Provincial Park.

If there’s some gas still left in my tank, not the bike’s, I’ve been invited to toss the disc with Niki and fellow rock jock Steve. And if I just can’t muster up for the dust up, then it will be an evening at home with the A/C in the ‘on’ position, probably watching the number 1 DVD in stores right now, Flight 666. Cool.

The photo by the way is the last time I was at Dinosaur Provincial Park. The dude on the left is Navigator, the dude on the right is me and the dude in the middle is Gnorman the Gnome.

My good buddy Norm, otherwise known as the Mayor of Medicine Hat, wants to rebrand the ‘Gas City’, deeming it’s current handle is no longer appropriate.

Here at the World Headquarters we asked our Rock 105.3 listeners what would make for a better nickname and here’s some of the highlights, in no paticular order:

a) Home of Blue Skies and Blue Hair
b) Home of the Newlyweds and Nearly Deads
c) Silverback City
d) Gopher Nation
e) Dandelion Central
f) Medicine Hat – Where stop signs are optional
g) Home of the Corona Cougar

Those are the ones I can print without getting reprimanded anyway.

Truth be known, ‘The Gas City’ isn’t that bad when compared to Okotoks – ‘Home of a really big rock’. Now that’s creativity squared, if not cubed.

Not being a fan of the heat, it looks like I may be in for some sweat infused sunshine. I do plan on making lemonade with those lemons however and to quote Hannibal, ‘I love it when a plan comes together’.

Upon returning from the Blues on the Bow Poker Run, my intentions are rather simple; drink some cold pops and ingest a rare steak, cooked over an open fire with a side of baked beans, surrounded by friends, or at least people who share the same passion for beer and red meat that I do.

Of course music is a must at any social gathering and German has put me in charge of not only chopping the wood with my official wood splitting axe but compiling a play list of tunes that will get us through what hopefully will be a long summer night. Keeping the Blues on the Bow in mind, I’m thinking some of the following;

Cream
George Thorogood
David Wilcox
Rolling Stones (pre 1975)
Leadbelly
Son House
SRV
Black Crowes
AC/DC (specifically ‘Ride On’ & ‘Night Prowler’)
Molly Hatchet
Blackfoot
Foghat
Bo Diddley
The Doors
Big Dave McLean
Janis Joplin
Little Esther
CCR
The Black Keys

Well, it won’t get me through the night but it’s a start, right?

Concerning today’s Frisbee date with Niki, I’m taken back to the time when I first started to learn how to toss the disc.

It was my very first radio job and I was as green as they come. Add to that, I took on a second and third job just to make ends meet and while I didn’t have enough coin to pay for cable, I did have a fair bit of free time on my hands. Cue my roomate, Skogs. With a chipped tooth courtesy of a popcorn kernel and hair that never needed a touch of Dippity Do, this Birkenstock wearing hippie at heart became a great friend of mine and was my personal induction to the game of frisbee.

Not built for speed, I’m not necessarily a fast mover but through practice and time, I realized that unless you’re involved in a game of Ultimate Frisbee, a little bit of hand-eye co-ordination can prevent the heart rate from exceeding 75 beats per minute. It’s almost impressive to watch a couple of dudes throwing around that Frisbee.

Mesmerizing and active all at the same time, it’s a great way to work up a Slushee thirst while enjoying the great outdoors. It should be noted I haven’t touched the smooth side of a Frisbee in close to nine years so we’ll see how the temple feels tomorrow morning.

I edged the front yard a couple of days back and was wondering what to do with all this leftover grass (not the left handed kind). Meanwhile my dog did a wonderful job of killing select patches of green in the backyard with his super power dog pee last winter and so it’s ironic that I’ve got too much lawn in the front yard and not enough in the back, kinda like many a haircut I’ve seen at the Farmer’s Market here in town but I digress.

While taking a breather from the sun and the eye sore known as ‘half naked neighbor’, an idea hit me while watching some MacGyver re-runs and it was back outside for this long hair.

I used the leftover edging to replace with it the dead and yellow grass in my backyard and I have to say with the help of German’s snow fence, the front yard edging has a new home in the back yard.

And as I quickly paruse this blog in search of grammatical errors I’ve also noticed that my life has gone from the roller coaster ride to the merry-go-round ride when the highlight of my week revolves around my yard.

Up next; my shopping list. I know, it’s sad isn’t it?

Had I known that when Niki signed up for Firefighters 101 here in town, I failed to recognize that upon passing the fire prevention course, official fire helmets were handed out.

For Fox Valley, who couldn’t use a ligit firefighter lid?! I’m not anti-cap but my large noggin’ fails to fit 99% of all hats, hence my early induction into the whole bandana scene.

The exception are well built safety hats and as you can see, I think I’d make a good firefighter.

Then again, maybe not.