Farmer Jack Beatdown

Okay, so I used to work midnights at Farmer Jack in Taylor. This was back in ’90, I think. There were about 7 guys that were working this particular night. We had one guy, Ken, that used to get in fights all the time at the bar. In fact, he frequently would drink his lunch at the little bar across the street from the store before last call. Did I mention that he was an alcoholic? Anyway, he used to lean the store mic up against the speaker of a radio and play WLLZ all night. This went on for a couple of years. The same station, the same songs on about a 2 hour loop, night after night after night. It can get to a guy, ya know? So, I brought my own radio in and would listen to it in the aisle I was stocking. I kept the volume down at “2” so as not to really disturb anyone else. So, I’m in aisle 2 (the Bake Goods aisle [funny how you remember things like that]) and I have my radio sitting on one of those carts you use to stock shelves. Well, Ken, the drunk, walks into my aisle and starts getting abrasive with me and yelling at me to turn my radio down. I explain that it’s only on “2” and that he’s working 5 aisles away in “7” (the Pet Food aisle [funny how you remember things like that ]). Ken didn’t care. Told me that my radio was NOT the “store music”. I calmly explained that pushing an old radio against a mic a playing WLLZ was not officially the store music either. As a retort, Ken told me that if I didn’t turn my radio off, he was going to, and I quote, “break the f***er”. Well, what would YOU have done at that point?! Apparently, the volume control on my radio had an “11”.  Drunky, drink, drunk didn’t appreciate me "turnin' that mother out", so he grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it into my boombox. I blocked it before it actually made contact, but fully understood the malice behind his gesture. Now it was on like Donkey Kong! I rush up to him, he takes a swing at me, I counter and catch him a few times, I guess. Somehow it turns from that into me spinning around him and putting him in a standing full nelson. It was sweet! Dummy that I am, stay too close to one of the displays and kicks off it with both feet and knocks both of us to the floor (and onto my ass). Didn't really feel the pain at the time, but I was a little sore from that for a few days. Both back up on our feet within seconds, a few more swings but no real action. The arguing resumes. Just a lot of smack talk, mostly from him. Somehow we end up 5 aisles over (Frozen Food). Okay, you know those open coffin style freezers? We were over there and the fighting starts again (can't recall precisely what led to it resuming). I had him in a headlock and I remember being totally calm. Just seemed like everything slowed down and I could think so clearly.

Devil: "Slam his head into the side of the freezer and up against the column."

Angel: "You'll get fired and probably go to jail."

I had enough good sense to not escalate the altercation to that degree, so I released him. Then he grabs me by my collar, twisted it, while pushing me against the coffin freezer. Again, my thoughts were very clear:

Devil: "His nose and chin are wide open and hands down. Drive your palm or fist into either and this is done."

Angel: "You'll break his nose or knock out his fronts, you'll get fired, and definitely go to jail."

So I just kind of powered out of it without really throwing a single punch. Ultimately, a good thing. At this point, I wasn't even mad anymore. I was just concerned about getting canned, losing my car, apartment, etc. But this kind of situation was a way of life for Ken, so he just kept pushing it. We exchange a few more words, I try and just let everything go and walk away.

Ken: "Yeah, that's what I thought," and pushes me from behind. I get pissed, rush up on him and "bench press" him over his cart and flat onto his bony ass. He goes NUTS! Comes at me, running and practically screaming, completely out of control! For a split second, I didn't even know what to think, much less what to do.

Devil AND Angel: "Sidestep with your front left foot off the line as he approaches and knee strike him in the stomach."

That's exactly what I did. Fight OVER. He dropped like a stone gasping for air (for awhile, I guess). I didn't say anything at all. Just walked back into my aisle, leaving him laying there. Went back to work and didn't hear or see him. Another guy there came over about 5AM or so to talk to me about it and said I busted his nose up pretty good. He pointed out all the blood on my forearms. I hadn't even noticed it until then. Gross!

The store manager, Stan, came over to me in the morning and said the d-bag night crew leader told him Ken and I got into a war. So, I explained it was all in self-defense and that I honestly tried stopping several times, but I had to defend myself. Stan just said okay, walked away and never mentioned it again. Then Ken comes over to my aisle. He asked if Stan talked to me and what I'd said. I told him the truth. That he started it, I kept trying to stop, but he kept trying to fight me, so I defended myself. "Sh**! I told him nothing happened." So, I have blood all over my arms and Ken's bleeding from his nose like crazy. Puhlease...

Oh, did I mention Ken was a little bit of a coke-head, too. I may not have even hit his nose all that hard after all! However, the knee strike was the real deal. :-)

Huh?

Emmy was saying "toilet" over and over again while squishing her face really hard. I told her she can say a different word....that it didn't have to be "toilet" all the time. While continuing to squish her face and without pause, she said, "Core Democratic Values" over and over again. LOL!

Finally combed his hair...

Every night, Jake gets out of the shower, halfway towels off and makes a naked B-line to his room with his hair looking like he rolled a stick of dynamite in it and detonated. When I can catch him in time, I tell him to get back in the bathroom and comb it. Well, last night was no exception, I sent him back in there. The kid comes out of the bathroom looking like he combed his hair with a time machine! LOL! It's parted straight down the middle and slicked partially back like he's getting ready to meet his barbershop quartet for practice! Classic...

Kind words describing Emmy

I came downstairs to Lauri and Emmy sitting at the kitchen table tonight. Lauri was scouring over the Sunday paper looking for coupons and such while Emmy finished up her snack and watched Hanna Montana. She'd been playing on the Spiderman Slip 'n Slide in the backyard for hours and her hair was still damp and tangled. Her green and white bathing suit was soaking through her little sun dress. She just looked so sweet and pretty. I went over to her and kissed and loved on her. Especially lately, she and I have been so incredibly close and she's always climbing up into my lap, jumping up into my arms, she wants me to carry her around the house, etc. I, of course, am loving every minute of it (while it lasts).

So, I just start telling her all wonderful things about her. I told her she's kind and sweet, caring and interesting, beautiful and loving, very smart and hardworking, unique, special, and hilarious. I told her that every person should have an Emmy.

Then, a conversation between Lauri and I about a kid that really smarted off to me a few days ago. Without going into detail, I really put him in his place. Lauri was surprised, but I said I'd do the same thing to any of the kids' friends. And, I'd be much harder on Jacob if he ever talked to me or anyone else like that. I told Emmy that she doesn't even wanna know how much trouble she'd get in if I ever heard her talk like that (knowing she's never do that anyway). Then I told her that I know she'd never do anything like that 'cause she's far too kind to say those mean things.

Here comes the funny part... She's looking at me like she's waiting for something else.

Emmy: "And...?!"
Me: "And what? What do you mean?"
Emmy, waving both her hand in the air, "Come on, MAKE WITH THE WORDS!"

LOL! Apparently, she quickly got used to me saying all those wonderful things about her and was still fiending for more! LOL!

Kind of Gross - Part II

I promise not to make this blog a tribute to Emmy's tooting, but consider this a warning that the topic may present itself from time to time and I find myself coerced to write about it.

Last night in bed (all four of us), watching TV, Lauri wouldn't let Emmy see something or other. Emmy said very calmly and quietly under her breath, "I guess I'll have to force ya..." Turned around towards me, away from Lauri. Yep, that's right. She tooted on her mother. LOL! Couldn't believe it. Lauri scolded her in between the laughing.

Not very lady like at all and hoping this is just a stinky phase, but it's still pretty funny when you're there. :)

Kind of gross...

Emily, Jacob, Lauri, and I are all cuddled up in our bed watching some TV Saturday night. Now, what happened next, around the house we generally refer to as a "toot". Sorry, but I can't use the word "toot" to describe this. THIS was a fart. THIS was the FART of farts. If a fart could be obnoxious and overbearing then I'd attribute these characteristics to it. It was also insanely long and loud. Had a lot of bass. Of course, Lauri yelled at me. Um, wasn't me, though. We usually try not to laugh when this kind of thing happens, but this thing wasn't something you heard every day. We noticed that Emmy was laughing the loudest, though. She just said one thing:

"I guess I'm growing up."

Summer Drive...

So, I'm rolling through Inkster on one of my "scenic" drives home back when I worked for Access Interactive in Wixom. Sometimes, instead of taking 275 all the way down to 94 or Eureka, I'd just hop off on Michigan Ave. and take that to Inkster Rd., Beech Daly, or Telegraph. It was definitely a way to break up the monotony of the hour long drive. Not really the most wholesome area, but that's why it wasn't boring. One day, I saw Inkster undercover cops swarm the outside of a party store just west of Beech Daly on Michigan Ave. It's the one with a giant Adult Videos and Toys sign on the front. LOL! Classy... They lined up the drug dealers on the curb with their hands zip tied behind their backs. It was pretty cool to see that stuff actually. For days leading up to then, I'd see a couple of the guys at various corners, just standing there holding duffel bags in July with coats on. I could see one guy further down the block and another across the street signaling the guy with the bag. Didn't know what he was actually signaling about, but I'm assuming it was in reference to spotting cops or not. Guess their spotters had pink eye that day or something, 'cause they didn't live up to their job and all those a-holes had their faces planted against the curb and and the boots of Inkster's finest on their backs. I don't get to swing by that way very often anymore, but the crime element seems to have dissipated a bit. Did I mentioned they built a HUGE police station within a crackrock throw away? :-)