A coupla random thangs…

Memorial Day:

So Memorial Day came and went and I didn’t blog about it which means I suck.  When I think of Memorial Day, I think about the greatest generation and those who fought in WWII.  No offense to our current soldiers because I love ’em as well, but many of those in the aforementioned generation of men didn’t choose to fight in a war.  They were drafted and didn’t complain about having to do so either.

My grandpa was one of those men, along with his brothers.  My great Uncle Art used to jump out of planes as a parachutist, but you could never get him to talk about it.  It was an off limits topic of conversation.  Boo to that, but you had to respect it.

Here’s a couple of my favorite pics of the kids visiting my grandpa’s grave.  Ace was cleaning the headstone on her own without any prompting and who knows what Cool was doing.

Visiting great gpa

Visiting great gpa


Visiting great gpa

My grandpa died in his mid 50s when I was in the fourth grade.  He deserves his own post instead of a mention in this random topic post, so I’m going to stop right here with him. Suffice to say that he ruled and I loved him dearly.

My last post:

My most recent post involved me lamenting the fact that my 4 year old recognizes that I’m a fat ass and promising myself that I was going to go ahead and do something about it. While I sort of meant to out myself on this blog so that I could maybe be held accountable, what I didn’t realize was how amazing so many of my followers and even some new WP readers are as human beings.

I invited followers to go ahead and chastise me for slipping up and being fat, but what I got instead was a bunch of great advice and encouragement from a bunch of people I only know from this blog.  Some people I’d never even heard from before.

In appreciation, let me update you on my progress during the past 30 or so hours.  I actually ate a banana for breakfast this morning because many of you said not to skip meals.  Then I had beets, green beans and cottage cheese instead of double french fries and dumplings for my side dishes at lunch today!  Sadly, softball was cancelled, but I have managed to drink about 1o beers as promised and make $100 by selling two baby cribs to some woman I thought might stab and rob me in the park and ride lot.

That makes me sad to know that I’ll never have another crib sleeper in my house…

Hey neighbors AC or GB, do you read my blog?  I only ask because, even though it’s 11pm, I almost ran to your homes to come ask you if I could rock your babies while they slept for a little bit!  Lol, creepy??

Anyway, I did not run yesterday or today and I suck for that too, but I will, I promise!

Grant’s Farm:

A friend of mine went to Grant’s Farm earlier this week and it made me smile.  I used to work there during my college years and I fucking LOVED it.  Loved it!  It’s still free to get in for God’s sake!

Anyway, this is one of my favorite Grant’s Farm memories.

We here in St. Louis, well, real St. Louisans, enjoy our beer.  We loved our Anheuser-Busch products a lot before the Brazilians bought the brewery a few years ago.

Grant’s Farm used to give out free samples of beer. When I was a kid it was basically an open bar all day long.  I remember my parents and their friends all stacking their cups on the table three feet tall and there’d be several of these stacks.  Then they’d drive us piss drunk to Ted Drewes for frozen custard and we’d all have a swell time.  That was when cars were made of steel instead of styrofoam and plastic and people weren’t such vaginas about drinking and driving.

By the time I was working at Grant’s farm, the limit was 2 10 ounce cups of beer and then you were cut off.  There were two bartenders working most of the time and folks would respect the two beer limit for the most part.  Sometimes folks would come in for a third and that was fine, but when it got to be the fourth or fifth, then we had to tell them to scram.  Of course folks would send spouses and friends in to get them beers that they weren’t going to drink, and that was fine with us as well.

Sundays at Grant’s Farm are what we liked to call Jefferson County Day.  For those of you not in Missouri, Jefferson County at that time had a reputation as a redneck or hillbilly county.

Grant’s Farm had 12 different free beers on tap to be sampled.  On Sundays, the Jefferson County crowd would come in and examine the taps like they’ve never seen them before and almost all of them would choose to drink…wait for it!  Wouldn’t you drink something different when it was free?  Anyway, most of them would choose Busch Beer!

They’d eyeball all of the tap handles like they’ve never seen anything like them before and then ask as though it was the first time,  “Can I try one of them thar…what’s that say, Busch Beers?”

Whatever Jim Bob.

Busch Beer is what those fucks drank all.the.damn.time.  God forbid they try a Michelob Golden Draft or Amber Bock or whatever while it’s free, no no!  Busch Beer is in their blood.

Anyway, one particularly hefty gentleman one Sunday managed to get five samples before I could tell him that we couldn’t serve him another.  In fact, I gave him a sixth because he was a big boy who looked like he could handle it and I didn’t feel like arguing with him.

I gave him his sixth beer and said:

“Sir, this is at least your sixth beer so I can’t give you anymore, I’m sorry.”

He leaves but comes back in the other line next to mine.  It’s 7 feet away from me and this man is like 6’6″ tall.

“Sir”, I say, “take that last beer, but you’re done!”  That’s 7 that I know of for him that day.

He comes back in the old man’s line.  Hold on, this is the old man, Dick Weber.

Dick Weber and me!

Dick Weber and me!

Anyway, I tell Jeff County that he’s done and that he’ll have to leave.  He storms off and I can see him commiserating at his table in an area right in my line of sight.

His wife comes in.

She’s had four samples herself already and is sent on her way empty handed.

I see them all huddling again and suddenly here comes Junior into the bar.  Junior is, no shit now, 7 or 8 years old.  He’s big and fat like his dad, but still.

Junior orders a Brush.

What I ask him?

“Can I get a Brush? ” he asks again.

“What the fuck is a Brush!?” I ask.

“Beer?  Brush Beer?” he says.

Uh, I don’t know what you’re saying, please point at the tap you want I tell him.  He looks perplexed, leaves and goes to talk to his fat fuck dad right in front of me again.  They both come in together and Junior asks for another “Brush Beer”.

“Busch,” says dad.  “He means Busch.”

Holy hell, I’m thinking, is this guy serious?

I ask Junior for an ID and he starts crying.  Uh, he’s fucking 8 years old!  They return to their table.

Again, right in my line of sight, I watch Jeff County talking to another son, this one is at least older than 8.  He may have been 12.

He comes in and very confidently asks for a sample of Busch Beer.

“I need to see an ID sir,” I say to the 12 year old.

“Oh,” he says.  “Hold on.”  He leaves and I watch as him and dad discuss strategy again.

I watch as dad hands 12 year old something from his wallet.  It’s his id.  Sigh…

Jr. comes back in with dad’s id and is sent away for obvious reasons.

Dad and he are talking, no shit now, right the fuck in front of my face, when I see them exchange shirts.  Yup, they took off their shirts and switched with each other.

Dad comes in wearing a shirt 4 sizes too small and orders another beer!

“Really sir?”


It’s not even worth the argument.  I give him another beer, at least his 8th free 10 ounce sample of Busch now, and beg him to leave.  He looks smug, as though he’s won some battle of the wits or something and finally leaves.

Jefferson County Day at the Grant’s Farm.  Every Sunday.

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41 Responses to A coupla random thangs…

  1. tric says:

    Those boys had so much to live up to! And about your “fat” body, a survey on Irish men has revealed that more are buying X size clothes. However it did not say they are fat, Instead we are told they are bigger and stronger. I’d say that is what your son meant.

  2. barbtaub says:

    For Mother’s Day the father of my four children presented me with — wait for it — a gym membership. He looked worried as he presented it, but assured me it met my presents guidelines (No handles, and it wasn’t breathing).

    I may be fat. I may revere the words of Robert Maynard Hutchins, “Whenever I feel like exercise I lie down until the feeling passes.” But my deepest, most religious worship is reserved for the Goddess of Cheap and that damn membership was already PAID for. So I went for the first meeting with my personal trainer, Leslie Ann and it was great. She speaks such broad Yorkshire that I didn’t understand about 90% of what she said. Including the part where “er bear got nithered ‘n be vomitin”. We talked and laughed for an hour, and parted (without doing any exercise more strenuous than exchanging emails). We’re meeting again on Monday so she can give me her famous peas pudding and I can give her something she’s only heard of but never tried — a bagel.

    I was a little worried because she said she’d need to bring the bear along, until a lady who was doing actual exercise told me that the ‘bairn’ was her little boy. So the point is that it’s good to be fat — you get to hang out at the gym with Leslie Ann and (hopefully) her nithered bear won’t be vomitin’ on you. I am a bit worried about that peas pudding though…

    • Peas pudding? I think I’d rather do squat thrusts!

      I like the thought of talking to a fit woman three times a week at no cost to myself. Perhaps I’ll look into one of these gym memberships.

  3. A.J. Goode says:

    I love Grant’s Farm! Took the kidlets to St Louis a few years ago, and they were horrified when their old mom tossed back a few beers at Grant’s Farm. They didn’t care that their dad also had some, but they apparently thought I was a Mormon or something. I resolved to drink in front of them on a daily basis after that.

  4. aliciabenton says:

    Man, those pictures of the kids visiting Grandpa’s grave are incredible. It’s amazing how powerful a photo can be.

    And you may think you’re getting fat, but I can assure you – – you’re not even CLOSE to Turkey Legs. You’re still good to go. Just work on your tan… tan hides fat pretty well. It’s easier for me to get tan than to get rid of my fat roll around my waist. Just saying.

  5. Michelle says:

    We’re selling all of our baby stuff too and I’m depressed about selling our crib and changing table and pak-n-plays…..never again will we have a little bitty baby in our home:(((( I hope this feeling goes away soon.

    • The other day while I was cutting the grass I was thinking about having another kid! I finished and was like what the fuck is wrong with you, Don!? What man thinks about such nonsense while cutting the grass? Just have a heart attack and die like a real man next time. Lol.

  6. ardenrr says:

    Ahhh man … I think I grew up with a few Jeff County folks. They’re real winners!

  7. That photo of your boy at grandpa’s grave is just about the best damn picture I’ve ever seen on a blog. Positively shiver-inducing. Also, as a natural born hillbilly, your Jefferson County crowd sounds like a good group to me.

    • Thanks, it’s one of my favorites as well. Sadly, I agree that those are the sorts of people I’m most comfortable around as well. It’s not as fun when you’re on the other side of the bar I guess.

  8. PinotNinja says:

    First, congrats on the switch to the fruits and veggies! That’s a huge step. And, tonight, you will run. Or at least do some sets of push-ups (10), jumping jacks (20), squats (30) and sit-ups (40). You can totally do it!

    Second, I LOVE the Grant’s story. Was that dude for real? He has got some serious balls, especially since he could just go outside and purchase a can of Bush for, what, $1?

    • I’m tired from just reading your rep recommendations! That dude was totally for real and yes, back then you could have very easily procured a tall boy can of Busch for $.99.

  9. Carol says:

    Jefferson County had the reputation of being hillbilly – did that change when you moved there ? The picture of G is the best – a family heirloom.

    • I’d say it’s at least 15% classier than it used to be. That’s actually from a couple of years ago so that’s Cool. You can tell because he’s not trying to knock the tombstone over.

  10. random comments – yes i suck too b/c i didn’t post about memorial day and feel the same. great job on breakfast – now get your ass out there and move! how was that? and love the jim bob story! that is hysterical. he deserved the beer for sheer persistence and annoyance

    • Yes ma’am! I shall move tonight! Well, tomorrow and Sunday for sure! I had to give him one last beer. The shirt didn’t cover half his stomach…I wish I had a picture.

  11. Did you really just throw my dad and brutha under the bus man? Really? Shit shells for you.

  12. sassypanties says:

    I’ve got no brilliant advice for not being a fat ass because I am one. I guess my only advice would be, “Put down the fucking cheeseburger!” But..I like cheeseburgers, so if you put it down, I’ll probably snatch it and inhale it.

    The Busch Beer guy? *facepalm*

  13. mistyslaws says:

    Now you wait just a cotton picking minute here, mister!! While it’s true that MOST of your commenters were all supportive and lovey dovey and shit, but I’m pretty sure that I called you a fat ass LIKE YOU ASKED. No acknowledgement of THAT, huh? Sure sure, I see how you are. :p

    You have really gotta hand it to someone who is so intent on getting free alcohol that he will whore out his wee children to commit illegal acts right in front of the barkeep. I would NOT have given him that eighth beer. You are such a pushover! Then again, maybe it was worth it just for that story alone!

    It was the shirt that did it, right? 😉

  14. djmatticus says:

    I’m sorry… I read that I’ve been missing out on free samples of Amber Boch and couldn’t read the rest…. I mean… all those Sundays I could have had twenty ounces of delicious delicious Amber Boch for free, maybe even forty ounces… and if I was especially “clever,” and borrowed someones twelve year old son to switch shirts with, eighty ounces… for free… I’m shattered. (Okay, okay, maybe I did read all of it, but don’t let that distract you from how completely depressed I am by this situation… now, how do I get there every Sunday… from southern California…)

  15. “That was when cars were made of steel instead of styrofoam and plastic and people weren’t such vaginas about drinking and driving.” Funny that you mention this, because we were just having a discussion about this the other day when the topic of the possibility of lowering the BAL came up. WTF? It’s not low enough already?? Seriously, for women, we could probably have barely one drink in an hour as it is. I remember when my dad would mix a drink to take with us in the car! And we weren’t wearing any seatbelts!!
    (On the topic of losing weight, I would say try the low-carb option. Yes, it would mean you would have to cut down on your Bud Light Lime consumption and switch to say, Miller Lite, which is must tastier anyway, but I have had great success with it. You don’t have to only eat rabbit food, and you never have to go hungry because you can steal eat all kinds of meat, and the all-important BACON!!! I say give it a go. I lost almost 50 pounds in about 5 months. Good luck!!)

  16. Melanie says:

    I second, third, whatever the vote on that picture of Cool at gpa’s grave being awesome. Totally shiver inducing.
    Grant’s Farm is great, minus the kid-eating goats. And that damn pen is right there when you get off the tram, trolley, or whatever it’s called and the kids are all like I wanna feed the goats, and I’m all like remember when you almost lost your arm last time, and they’re all like but that won’t happen this time, so I give them each a couple of $1s for a couple of milk bottles and not two seconds later they’re all screaming mommy this goat is trying to eat me, so I’m screaming throw the bottle at their heads and run! (no goats were harmed in the telling of this story)
    But seriously, the free beer more than makes up for it.

  17. Don, just remembered, this system always works for me if I need to shift a coupla pounds, should suit you given you don’t want to change your diet too much, let me know what you think http://www.telegraph.co.uk/lifestyle/9480451/The-52-diet-can-it-help-you-lose-weight-and-live-longer.html

  18. I don’t think there’s anything about not posting on Memorial day that makes you a bad blogger. I really appreciate you sharing your thoughts and your grandpa with us. My grandpa, too, was a WWII vet. He told us he actually should have died twice, but he managed to luck out both times. He passed away at 94, and we know it would’ve meant the world to him if he’d seen the honor guard that came up to pay their last respects and to give my stepdad his flag.

    My thoughts about Memorial day are very much in line with yours on the somber scale… My post for the day kind of made that feeling known, loud and clear. Your Grandpa, I’m sure, truly appreciates how you’re keeping his memory alive and well in the hearts of your children.

  19. canigetanotherbottleofwhine says:

    This is just so funny! Hilarious. I’m wiping my tears away.

  20. keladelaide says:

    You’ve bent the elbow. That counts as exercise, right?

  21. Blog peeps rock! Good luck with your weight loss!

    PS: You’re my favorite comment today!

  22. mollytopia says:

    When people weren’t vaginas about drinking and driving hahahaha. And hey great job on the banana, beets and cottage cheese! Nicely played!
    PS I wonder if the Busch man and his sons were from Myrtle. Totally possible…

  23. Maggie O'C says:

    When people weren’t vaginas about drinking and driving, right?!
    You have the best stories!
    The pics of your kids at your grandfather’s marker are beautiful. It’s good that you’re a cop because you are going to need a gun when that girl hits middle school 🙂

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