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Holmium Laser Lithotripsy or (Kidney Stone Blaster!)

Holmium Laser Lithotripsy or (Kidney Stone Blaster!)

This past week, I had my bi-annual kidney stone attack. Only, this attack was a culmination of a bunch of small attacks that have happened over the last few months.

It finally got to the point where I couldn't keep anything down (read: upchuck) and I decided to call my urologist.

It happened Sunday night after I had scheduled my Pork Laxative blog for Monday morning distribution. In fact, it happened ALL Sunday night. I slept about 2 hours because the pain had me up and ambulatory (read: moving around like a Gypsie, no offense intended).

Latin word alert: Ambulare - to walk or move about, which is a reference to early medical care where patients were moved by lifting or wheeling.

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Pork, The Natural Laxative

Pork, The Natural Laxative

Yesterday, I made the bestest breakfast in the world. I fried up three sausage patties, six slices of bacon, and two eggs over easy. Then I added two pieces of toast, slathered in enough butter so that it seeped through to the back of the bread.

In an expert's opinion, it's not a real healthy breakfast.

One could even argue that it's worse for me than my usual Pop Tart ensemble .

I'm not sure which way I'd go on that. One breakfast is nothing but sugar while one consists of a week's worth of fat. Calorie-wise, the Pop Tart breakfast wins. Hands down.

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Pop Tarts (among other things)

Pop Tarts (among other things)

My normal breakfast consists of scarfing down a Pop Tart on my way to the office in the morning. Usually because I'm too lazy to fix something healthy to eat.

Sometimes, though, I switch to a granola bar. Peanut Butter S'mores or Chocolate Chip Chunk. Good stuff.

But lately, I've been into the Strawberry and Blueberry Pop Tarts. Brown Sugar and Cinnamon too. So that's where this article comes from.

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The Patio Project

The Patio Project

For the last 2 Sundays, I've worked on the patio at my new place. Before, it was a dangerous sort of walk from the back door because you had to be careful where you stepped. One could have easily twisted their ankle and since I get hurt enough without help, I couldn't afford for that to happen.

So I undertook what I now dub, "The Patio Project."

What follows is a pictorial essay (with comments) on my latest building project.

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Pocketbooks and Fishing Line

Pocketbooks and Fishing Line

Growing up, I was kind of a goody-two-shoes. I really never did anything wrong. I was only grounded once (a story for another time). I lived my mischievousness out vicariously through others. Thus, the story of the pocketbooks and fishing line.

My friends and I lived way out in the country on a road that more or less existed to get people from A to B. Our little community was neither A nor B; we lived in the middle of nowhere.

Entertainment for little boys was scarce in the Summer. Bike riding. Baseball. Basketball. Fishing. You'll notice that none of these activities drain the devilishness that lives inside every of little boy. Boys need an outlet for these urges.

My friends found such an outlet. Pocketbooks and fishing line.

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The Super Bowl Party

The Super Bowl Party

I went to a Super Bowl Party this past Sunday and saw a friend I hadn't seen in almost ten years. It was good to catch up on what had happened in our lives and even though we've emailed and stuff since we last saw each other, sometimes it takes that personal meeting to give you that feeling of real connection.

And you know what? The dude is still as goofy as I remember.

This is a good thing. We all have a certain goofiness that we reveal to our close friends and family. Siblings, in particular, never let us forget the brain-headed things we did growing up. And they never hesitate to inform future wives of those times too.

Craig's Super Bowl Party had everything a Super Bowl Party should: hot wings, chili, chicken enchilada soup, beer, soda, banana pudding, plenty of smack talk, a projection TV, etc. It had plenty of different people from all walks of his life and they all mixed well. There were even some hot chicks there (all married as my luck would have it).

There was a single misfit, however, and I guess every Super Bowl Party had one.

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Rogaining My Life Away

Rogaining My Life Away

I've done it. I ordered the generic version of Rogaine. Minoxidil is the magic ingredient and it promises to restore my masculinity.

I know the negatives. It'll make my scalp itch. Maybe even dry it out some. It may not work even for me. And if it does, I'll have to use it for the rest of my life.

I paid $55 for a year's supply of the stuff off ebay.

Ask any bald man: Is $55 a year too much to pay for hair?

That's a rhetorical question.

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Romancing The Stone

Romancing The Stone

I'm beginning my Life 3.0 and this weekend was one of mile"stones" for me. I bought a car, a 2004 Pontiac Aztek. It's ugly, I know ... it's so ugly I love it. More on that later ...

I also finalized moving to a new house. More on that later ...

What really made this weekend special was yet another kidney "stone."

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Biltmore on a Budget

Biltmore on a Budget

This past week, I took a vacation to Asheville. I don't live there yet but I've planned on moving there after the New Year. So I figured that I should at least vacation there since I've never actually been. So, to ring in the New Year, I took off for a week.

On Friday, my traveling companion and I decided to visit Biltmore because neither of us had ever been.

We drove in the gate and parked. Went in the visitor's building where you purchased your tickets. Looked at the prices. Not bad. The "Self-Guided Audio Tour" was only $8. The "Behind the Scenes Tour" was $15. The "Rooftop Tour" was $15.

Very reasonable.

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Let Men Do Men Things

Let Men Do Men Things

My dad and I just finished a garden retaining wall / walkway project we started a few months ago. We worked on it diligently every weekend it wasn't raining and this weekend, finished it in the drizzle. We built a 5-block high retaining wall and dug out a walkway three inches deep at forty by five feet. It was a big project.

As we were finishing up, in the rain, shoveling river stone and sweating like the out-of-shape men we are, my mom popped out on the deck and said, "Looks great! I think you need more rock."

My dad and I looked up at her and immediately said, "We know. We're not done."

"We're getting another half scoop," my dad said. We were spreading the first scoop and had already accessed we needed an additional half scoop to finish.

"I think you need a whole scoop," Mom said.

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The Bathroom Chair

The Bathroom Chair

I went to a married friend's party this past weekend. There were mostly couples there but my buddy promised me there would be some single women too. So I went.

It was awkward at first because I haven't dated in a while but their house is huge so whenever I needed to disappear for whatever reason, there were plenty of places to go.

As at most decent-sized parties, there are mini-parties that formed in key areas. The kitchen. The living room. The den. The deck / back porch. The game room. The bathroom.

The bathroom?

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A Regular Seven

A Regular Seven

I got a chance to see my two nephews this past weekend and as always, their innocent insight into the world proved to be enlightening. From Monkey Poop to thoughts on what colors of food are edible, they have a knack of pointing out things that us "adults" miss.

For instance, did you know that nicknames should make sense?

My cousin has a little boy named Kyle but because the grandfather is Kyle and the uncle is Kyle Junior, this Kyle is referred to as "Little Kyle." Sounds reasonable enough, right?

Until you mix kids into the equation.

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Thoughts On Being Thankful

Thoughts On Being Thankful

Thanksgiving is approaching and although it's not as big a deal in my family as Christmas is, I always try and take a moment to remember what the holiday stands for. Figuratively. To be thankful.

I'm thankful for my family. They are always there and always support me. Even when I screw up and let me tell you, I've had some doozies. Family is first and foremost in my life; I've taken some hard knocks to learn that one.

Then there's my health. When I'm not popping out kidney stones or collecting yellow jacket stings or pulling muscles, my body is pretty solid. I eat healthily-although some would argue; I still believe pizza comprises all four food groups-and I can do just about anything important that needs doing.

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You Can't Catch Me!

You Can't Catch Me!

My parents are getting older. They're in their sixties now. While that's still relatively young by today's standards, they can't do things like they used to.

Every time I visit home, one or both of them is hobbling in some new way. Hips, knees, shoulders, ankles. Their bodies are slowly falling apart and sometimes, it's all they can do to get through the day without contracting some new ailment or injury.

Last week I was over there watching TV. I stretched out on the couch while my mom and dad sat in their respective favorite chairs, two high-back red leather recliners.

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The Brotherhood of the Traveling Boxers

The Brotherhood of the Traveling Boxers

My friend Jeff and I were heading out for burgers when he pulled the top of his boxers out of his pants and said, "You know how long I've had these?"

Usually when I hear a rhetorical question, I answer with something outlandish. Like "Gary Oldman." Or "three". Or "blue roses." But this time, Jeff caught me off guard. I said, "Nope, how long."

"Thirteen years." He smiled like he'd just learned the next lottery numbers* from a psychic. *(Net proceeds go to education)

"Thirteen years?" I replied. I patted him on the back. "Your girlfriend would be proud."

Jeff, still smiling, said, "I had them before her."

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Long Schlongs

Long Schlongs

I learned something this past weekend that disturbs me. My four year old nephew Joey has a big schlong. It's so big that it gets talked about. The boy is set for life.

I didn't learn this by giving him a bath or anything. I learned it from my mom.

The other day, she gave his six year old brother a bath. He was sitting on a tub chair and the water lapped just above his privates. He yelled for my mom to look! "Look! My weenie's floating!"

My mom laughed and said something like, "Good, good. Now turn around and let me get behind your ears."

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The Kettlenetics K-Bell

The Kettlenetics K-Bell

Look out for the newest fitness fad that's sweeping the nation!  It's the exercise craze that's got Hollywood stars Matthew McConaughey and Katherine Heigel looking like a million dollars.  It's Kettlenetics!!

And oh my god, it's a real product.  It may be the gayest exercise product I've ever seen.

Some joker has taken the time to slap handle on a ball and calls it an exercise.  I guess the thought behind it is that finally, after years of scientific research, he's designed a ball that won't roll away.  It's got a flattened bottom and for the physically inept, a giant handle on the top.

So you can pick it up.

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Yard Sale Fever

Yard Sale Fever

So I had a yard sale with my parents and my sister this past weekend. I know what you're thinking, in October? Don't worry, the weather was a brisk 60 degrees; it was nice. Rain had threatened us all week but it came a day early and stopped around four in the morning, just in time.

I advertised the yard sale (or garage sale / tag sale for those of you who say it that way) on craigslist and a local tv station's web site and several tag-sale-related web sites. We put up signs at every major intersection within the surrounding 10 miles.

We did everything we could short of advertising in the local paper that would have cost $15. And as a result, my mom around $45 money, my sister made around $150, and I lost $8.

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The Last Potato

The Last Potato

This past Sunday night, I ate dinner at my parent's house. Also in attendance were my sister and her new husband. It was a simple dinner of grilled hot dogs with all the fixins and pan-fried potato slices. The meal was more about the company than the food itself.

I made my two hot dogs with chili, mustard, mayo, ketchup, cheese, onions, Texas Pete hot sauce and homemade slaw. In most hot dog joints, they call this Southern Style or Carolina Style. It's how I grew up eating them and to me, it's how they should be made.

I've been through the streets of New York and bought a Sabrett's with mustard and kraut. They're good, don't get me wrong. But they just don't compare with a Southern Style chili dog.

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