Sometimes ya just don’t know what you don’t know, ya know?

I knew you knew. If there’s one thing I know, it’s the fact that there’s tons of stuff I don’t know. That’s just fine with me. Who wants to be a know-it-all anyway? Some things can be unknown cuz let’s face it….there’s a lot of jacked-up people doing jacked-up things these days. Do I really need to know about everything? NO.

Sure, knowledge is power. But there’s also power in not knowing, depending on what it is you don’t know. So the next time you find yourself not knowing something, take heart….and use your powers wisely.

It was a simpler time of yesteryear when most every grocery store had bag boys, and we were free to either make small talk with the cashier or just stand there leisurely without a care in the world while “the help” bagged our items and loaded them in our shopping carts for us. Fleeting as it was, it gave us a glimpse of what it’s like to have a staff. “Would you like some help out with that sir?” I’d sometimes say “Absolutely, and if someone could drive me home that’d be great too.” It was usually good for a chuckle and then I’d politely decline the offer, being the strapping lad that I am. Sometimes if there was a guy in line behind me, I’d jokingly say “Save your strength, it looks like this guy needs the help WAY more than I do” with a wink and a nod. You know…if more people were smart-asses with strangers, the world would be a better place, I always say. Okay that’s the first time I’ve ever said that but just roll with it.

Fast forward to the present day. In my corner of the globe, the stores that do bag the groceries usually make the cashiers do the work, which of course just holds the line up cuz they can’t bag anything until they’re done ringing it all up. They sometimes have a roving bag boy / girl who floats from lane-to-lane helping the cashiers, but that seems to be the exception here rather than the rule.

Yesterday I was at a d0-it-yourself grocery store where the bagging duties fell on me, the hard-working, paying customer. There were 4 people in line behind me, with the conveyor-belt being divided so that two people can bag groceries at the same time. What could possibly go wrong?

Here in the great overly-legislated state of California, not only are we now charged 10 cents per bag, but the plastic bags….at least at the store I was in…well they suck. Hahaha. They can’t contain a certain chemically-thing that’s been deemed harmful to the environment so the bags are thicker but smaller. I was very mindful of my item-placement when unloading my cart, to make my bagging easier. Frozen foods clustered together, then perishables, then everything else, usually with the boxed items together and canned items too. Yes, I’m a genius. Unbeknownst to me until it was too late, my nice cashier took the liberty of ringing things up randomly as he saw fit.  A frozen pizza was the first item coming at me, and it wouldn’t even fit in the dwarfed bag, despite the fact that it was a small pizza. Really? Then came some dry goods (wait….didn’t I put those out LAST?), followed by a perishable or two. Slightly peeved, I bag the first few items before looking up to see the items flying towards me at Mach Speed. At first I tried having two bags open simultaneously to place items together the way I intended, but in realizing how slow I was going and a quick glance at the cashier and the lady behind me, whose items were already on the belt, made me feel like Lucy and Ethel in the famous chocolate-factory conveyor belt scene.

It was ON. Toothpaste and TP were now in the same bag as corn on the cob and pesto sauce. Eggs and coffee cohabitated with paper towels and cooking spray. I gave my cashier a “meet me outside” look before slunking off towards the exit, my pride somewhat tarnished and my ego deflated.

I suppose it could’ve been worse; I didn’t have to stuff a bunch of chocolate in my mouth and pockets.

On second thought, I think Lucy and Ethel got the better end of that deal.

Stop the presses! Wait….are presses still a thing? Alright, stop the digital presses. Well I guess this technically is a digital press, so how about we keep this one going and stop all the others? Works for me.

Yesterday I took a leap forward into the social media fray by joining Twitter. I had always resisted it before, probably cuz I never really understood it. In comparison with Facebook, it’s always seemed inferior to me. For some reason though, on a complete whim I decided to check it out.

Come to find out….the Twitter glitter is legit. Who woulda thought? One of the things I find compelling is that you can tweet “at” someone, any-freaking one you want, and they’ll be notified and will likely read it. That boggles my primitive caveman mind! You mean to tell me it works even with celebs? Yes, even with celebs. You mean to tell me that ‘celebs’ is short for ‘celebrities?’ Yes, celebs is short for celebrities. You mean to tell me there are people who ask a question and answer it themselves? Isn’t that annoying?? Yes, there ARE people like that and yes…they absolutely are annoying. But that’s beside the point (the point itself is beside the point, but that’s beside the point too).

The beauty of being able to tweet at someone, and let’s just pick a celeb at random for a minute and say….Adam Carolla…..is that obviously he has no clue who you are or that you even exist, but you can tweet him and get his attention. Now in the Facebook world, that’s usually only reserved for your FB friends, unless it’s someone’s “celebrity page” and you decide to post on it, but it tends to get lost in the shuffle. Tweeting at them directly though, well….it’s been known to work and sometimes even elicit a response back. Now I have nothing specific to say to Adam Carolla, although I do enjoy his podcast from time to time. The world is just that much smaller when it comes to the Twitter Universe. I can tweet at Tom Hanks and tell him I just bought a toaster, or I suppose I could make a small mention of him and one of his movies I really like, buuuut….no. I think celebs get enough people gushing over them. What they really WANT is to know what random people are doing, what they’re eating, or where they’ll be vacationing. In an odd way, it just makes them whole.

Truth be told, having another platform to get addicted to probably isn’t what I need right now, but once the new-car smell is gone and the honeymoon is over, I’m sure I’ll snap right back to my usually-stable self.

I did recently buy a new toaster though. Hey Tom!

It’s one of those questions that just burns in the psyche, along with “what’s the meaning of life” and “why do they make 1-ply toilet paper?” I don’t know about you, but my dentist is….well….it’s hard to say since I’m always laying in the chair when he casually pops into the room. All I know is he looks like a GIANT in that moment as I’m laying there feeling all exposed and vulnerable, about to let a humanoid poke and prod some tools in my mouth, all while he asks me questions in a desperate attempt to make the occasion feel “natural” by injecting some small talk into the mix.

Sorry doc, there’s nothing natural about this. If it’s all the same with you, I’d just as soon forego the pleasantries and get this over with. No need to pretend we’ve been boyhood buddies and have tons of catching up to do. I have no idea if you’re actually credentialed with those mouth weapons and are adequately trained in your craft, but I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt since I walked away virtually unscathed last time. But mind you, that was LAST time. I have no clue how your today has been, who has ticked you off, or if you’re just angry with humanity in general and have been waiting for just such a victim like myself to writhe in pain while you do the unspeakable – use that scrapey tool thingy along with a tiny handheld mirror and do the general check-up, while your assistant Jennifer did all the hard work in cleaning my teeth and made it look easy. Come to think of it, why don’t we just say Jennifer is my dentist? She’s much less intimidating, not to mention several inches shorter than you.

Ok I just answered my own question; Jennifer is about 5’5″.

How tall is your dentist?

Oogah Boogah!

Those have been proven to be among the very first words our ancient cavemen ancestors spoke, and they’re just as relevant today. And you know…it’s always good to put some words down for the historical record. Someday, our generation will be scrutinized by the historians (God help us all), who will be looking for clues to see how we ticked. Seeing as I’m sure they’ll want to include the Caveman Good blog as a…barometer (oooh, big word!) for mankind’s progress, well…..ramblings just seem like a good idea.

I like toast. I think it’s one of nature’s most perfect foods. Someday I hope to grow my own toast garden.

I like the sun. Man, it’s almost like….without the sun, life would be really dark. And it might not be very lively either, because it would be so dark that it’d be almost impossible to find the toaster. I mean, without toast, what’s the point?

I like water. Drinking it, showering in it, swimming in it. Watching sprinklers on the grass. Being in the car wash as the water sweeps over you (while you’re in your, you know, car. If you’re in a car wash but not in a car, it’s just traumatic).

I like deposits into my checking account.

I like the color blue. So glad that the sky isn’t lime green or something. Blue rocks!

I like blue rocks.

I like green lights. I like flowing traffic. I like when there’s no one driving in front of me, and when I only have to make right turns. Did you know that it takes longer to turn left? I’ve committed to only making right turns from now on. I might go in a lot of circles and maybe I won’t always get where I need to go, but at least I’ll not get there faster!

I like being able to ramble from my cave, thanks to this world-wide web thingy. Until next time…

I’ll never forget where I was the moment I heard about…..gluten.

Okay not true….I have no idea where I was, nor do I even remember the moment, but I DO remember some afterthoughts (after I…thought of them).

How is it that, as advanced as we are as a society, somehow the whole concept of gluten being bad for us wasn’t “discovered” until recently? I don’t like to throw around the c-word very often, but if I didn’t know better, I’d think there was a massive Gluten Conspiracy on our hands. It never ceases to amuse me when I’m in the grocery store and see, let’s say…sweetened condensed milk (or some damn thing) that says “Now Gluten-Free!” Really? Never mind the fact that the ingredients that ARE in there are enough to slowly kill even a Tyrannosaurus Rex over time. Sure, I could go on and on here about how a gluten-rich diet was the real reason dinosaurs became extinct, but I’ll save that for another day.

Now, I don’t pretend to have a clue when it comes to the mysteries of the human body, and God knows I can’t take credit for a single iota of “advances” or discoveries that have led to the plethora of information we have today. So if a bunch of so-called experts came out and said that cigarette smoking is actually beneficial to our health when done in moderation, I maaay hafta jump in my car and buy a pallet of smokes. I mean…they’re the experts, right?

After growing up drinking diet pepsi (which was as much of a staple in our house as milk), it was interesting to later hear about the horrible effects of soda on the body. On a related note, I remember hearing some time ago that you should NEVER put plastic wrap over foods in the microwave, because it somehow emits carcinogenic thingies into our food as a result of being in the oh-so-safe microwave. Hahaha. This comes on the heels of 30-plus years of covering food in the microwave with plastic wrap? Speaking of microwaves…..if the experts told us conclusively that microwave use has been known to cause cancer due to extra high levels of dangerous microwavey stuff (which of course is a theory), what would we do? How would we adjust to the idea of suddenly not using a microwave oven? Perish the thought! Microwave ovens have become so ingrained in our daily life that it would be reaaaal easy to conclude that the “experts” aren’t so expert after all.

So what’s one to do? Are the experts really experts? Who ARE these people? Hey, I definitely appreciate people who do the leg work for me, butchyaknow….us cavemen don’t have time for all of this misinformation; we’re too busy hunting and making the kill. Speaking of which, I gotta run now and take down this T-Rex. I can only hope he hasn’t been eating gluten; the second-hand consumption may (or may not) be my demise.

File this one under the category of….”Did that just happen?”

Grad Night 2015. I remember it as if it were….yesterday, and not just because it actually WAS.  The long-awaited (dreaded?) day was upon me, my son Evan was ready to take on the world. As a parent, it’s a night that you invariably think of throughout the course of your child’s life. While I’ve been so looking forward to it, so proud of my son and excited for his future, it’s also one of those landmark, lifetime events that, as a parent, it just engulfs your mind and soul with thoughts and emotions  racing around like a roller coaster in the dark.  The closer you get to the big day, the more frequent, and faster, they become. I knew I was in for a rough evening and a mixed bag of emotions, but I was ready to take it all in.

With the ceremony set to begin at 7:30, I pulled into the parking lot of the high school just after 5pm, wanting to make sure I got a good seat. I had “been there done that” two years prior with my firstborn son, Brennan, so I knew how quickly the line would form.  It was your typical California June afternoon – hot. With temperatures in the low 90’s and no overhead shelter, I joined other parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, and friends in line. Two hours standing in the sun? No problem!  Some enterprising, female soccer students came around every half hour or so with a cooler full of bottled water for sale. Nice job girls. A Mother and her two young daughters came by as well, selling “candy leis”…presumably to place on the grad student’s neck, although perhaps a light supper for anyone in line who was hungry enough to “go there.”

Did I mention it was hot? After an hour and a half or so, someone collapsed in the parking lot from heat exhaustion.  There’s nothing like a fire truck and ambulance on the scene to make time pass a little quicker!  While we were all concerned about the person and hoped they were okay, I’m pretty sure we all had the same thought at the time: firemen and EMT’s…..don’t go anywhere, any of us could be next. Many people in line had brought umbrellas, and while my first thought in such a case is usually sarcastic in nature (Dude, its 90 degrees out and sunny. Real cavemen don’t use umbrellas!), I found myself secretly wanting to sneak under various umbrellas for a few stolen moments of shade until I got kicked out.  Alas, the line finally started moving, and like cattle we began slowly began making the trek towards the stadium.

My early arrival did in fact guarantee me a good seat. I was in the “Parental VIP Section” on the field, directly behind the graduating students, along with my ex-wife. My son had told me he’d be in the last row, and I was able to secure a couple of seats in the front row of the VIP area…..the “mosh pit”. Hence, it was pretty cool, because Evan was only about 30 feet from me. Happy Dad.  We saw dark clouds coming in, and lo and behold, there was a 30 percent chance of rain, according to my weather app. While my ex-wife was worried about this, I told her it simply meant there’s a 70-percent chance it’s NOT going to rain, and to relax. One or two eye-rolls from her later, and the ceremony was under way.

They bring out the “big boys” for high school graduations. The entire school board was up on the stage, along with foreign dignitaries, heads of state, and members of the Royal Family. Well….the school board was there anyway. The school’s choir sang the National Anthem, the student body president gave a brief speech, and then the principal came to the podium.  “Ladies and Gentleman, welcome. In light of the impending storm, we’re going to mix things up and pass out the diplomas FIRST, after which point we’ll have the speeches if weather permits.” I was incredulous at first. Is she serious? Chicks, I swear. Just then, a HUGE roar of thunder came…thundering down, and I thought perhaps she was onto something. The clouds seemed darker, the wind started picking up, and lightning could be seen at what appeared to be very-close range. I was facing the stage of course, but everyone on the stage was facing towards the crowd, and could see the clouds moving in behind us. Upon hearing that diplomas would be handed out first, the students erupted in shouts and applause.

Wasting no time, the first row of students  were released, walked  up, and  it was go-time. There were four  teachers responsible for calling out the students’ names as they received their diplomas, two on either side of the podium, with the students split on either side. “Michael Kenneth Crabtree.” “Emily Jane Scott.” They were calling the names FAST, just a second or two between students, and the kids seemed to be hurried a bit, although I’m sure they were all just stoked and caught up in the moment. Next thing you know, the second row of students was up there, and the names seemed to be announced a bit faster. The wind was picking up, and I could hear some “ooohs” in the crowd who had seen more lightening, not far behind the crowd seated in the aluminum bleachers. A guy could be heard saying “those people (bleacher crowd) need to get out of there!”, but it was all lost in the hurried rush of festivities. Yikes…..he has a point, I thought.

It quickly became apparent that there would be no speeches given on this evening; the sky was going to fall any minute. My main concern at the time was just wanting the rain to hold off until Evan, seated in the last row, could (dryly) have his moment. Sure enough, that’s what happened. In a harried flash, and not what a parent envisions, his name is called, and while I was still shouting my “whoop whoop!”, the next student’s name was already being called. But the smile on Evan’s face was good enough for me. Everyone made it back to their seat, the principal announced that “this was it” and that all speeches would be done Monday morning and placed on the school’s website for all to see who might not be able or desire to come back. Great back-up plan, I must say. The next thing I knew, all of the royal blue caps were being tossed wildly into the air, and it was over. Within 3 minutes of THAT, I felt a little drop from the sky…

Before I knew it, it was pouring. If you’ve ever been to a high school graduation, you know that the moments afterwards are inherently crazy, with students wanting to find their friends for what could be final goodbyes, parents rushing in for photo-opps, and just a general crazy-fun atmosphere. With an intense rain coming down however, and lightning very close by, well……let’s just call it MAYHEM. While there were a decent number of students staying on the field and posing for pictures, the vast majority of people started moving towards the exits. And in a flash, it was all over before it began. I walked past one dad who was casually strolling along under his umbrella. Nice job dude. Turns out, you umbrella-people are smarter than me. Who knew?

At the time, it all seemed so crazy, with people laughing, smiling, and just a general “this is one night we’ll NEVER forget” type of feeling. On the one hand, it was kind of a relief in the way it ended. It was intense, it was fun, everyone was drenched but generally in great spirits. It wasn’t until I was home alone with my thoughts that I couldn’t help but feel “robbed” somehow. As much as I had mixed feelings about the evening in the days (and years) leading up to it, I was ready to DO THIS.  But now, I was feeling a little cheated out of some special moments, and I also felt bad for the students who inevitably must have felt the same way. Some probably never had a chance to say their goodbyes on that field, because it was just chaotic. Some parents never saw their kids on the field either, but they headed for cover just outside the stadium and waited for their kids to pass by.

We can plan and prepare for something our whole lives, and in the end, invariably, it MAY not go according to plan. In a twisted, metaphorical kind of way, there’s a great life lesson there for the graduating class of Rocklin High School 2015.

Welcome to the real world, kids.

Now go out there and kick BUTT!

In the history of word-stuff, the word ‘stuff’ has gotta be one of the all-time best. I don’t know how it translates into other languages, but the concept of stuff remains the same; it’s one of those all-encompassing, universal language kinds of things, undoubtedly going back to caveman days. I can almost hear it…

“Need food stuff”.  “Need fire stuff”.  “Dinosaurs make big piles of….stuff”.  Or as the CaveMom asked her CaveTeenager….”What did you do today honey?” Answer: “Stuff”. (Teens have been using one-word answers for a LONG time….)

Look up the word ‘stuff’ in the dictionary and it becomes clear that even Webster doesn’t really know how to define it.  Materials. Personal property.  A literary or artistic production. Substance (the stuff of greatness). Subject matter (a teacher who knows her stuff). The liveliness of a baseball pitch (he had good stuff tonight). And on and on it goes.

You can stuff your suitcase, you can stuff your fridge. You can eat too much stuff and be stuffed. If you’re on top of your game, you can even strut your stuff.  Do you have some great, philosophical ideas? That’s deep stuff.  Some people make stuff, some people save stuff, and most of us like free stuff. Is your place getting cluttered? Throw away some stuff. Of course, the very concept of our homes, in the words of the late, great George Carlin, is that it’s simply a place for our stuff!

I could go on about all kinds of stuff now, but you get the idea. Right now I need to do some stuff and eat some stuff before I go out and do more stuff. Thanks for reading. Sometimes I just like writing stuff.

I know what you’re thinking. With a title like that, you’re expecting this to be a literary masterpiece, right? It was a hard decision between ‘Yesterday’s Underwear’ and ‘Dirty Socks’…..ok it really wasn’t that hard. Who wants to read about dirty socks anyway? Underwear though…..now that’s sexy baby!

Alright, maybe there’s nothing sexy about yesterday’s underwear. That sucker belongs in the hamper. Better yet, the washing machine (and for my fellow batchelor dudes reading this, an important laundry tip: use detergent occasionally. It’s like a whole new level of clean..trust me!).  Of course, if one were to do laundry on a regular basis, there would be no need to reach for yesterday’s pair to begin with….we could just go “fresh” every day, the way God intended. Hmmm….I’m almost sensing some kind of metaphorical….metaphor coming on….

I could go on and on about the importance of doing life’s “must do” stuff in a timely manner. Have to do your taxes? Do ‘em early. Have a project at work looming over you like a dreaded term paper in high school? Get crackalackin’.  How about just day-to-day stuff like meal planning and grocery shopping?  Ouch…that hits a little too close to home for me. As a single Dad who has his kids half of the time, this is one area that’s an ongoing challenge. I can have my shopping list all ready, but once I set foot in the grocery store, I develop an extreme case of A.D.D. and walk around with the ultimate deer-in-the-headlights look. I get sooo distracted in there. Hahaha. But even so, send me in without a list, and I may as well have my mail forwarded there. It isn’t pretty!

I’m trying to get better at emptying “life’s hamper”. Don’t reach for yesterday’s underwear. Toss it in the washer and go commando if you have to. At the end of the day, well….it will be dark cuz it’s the end of the day, but that’s beside the point…