How is the Cleanup Going?

Did the Father of Five succumb to the horrors of all that cat poo? 

Did he make it out alive? 

Why have we not heard from him in such a long time?

These, and other questions will soon be answered!!

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Operation Cat Poo Cleanup…

(Coined CPC – not to be confused with the similarly named, and (let’s be honest) possibly related organization CDC (Center for Disease Control – because heaven alone knows what kind of diseases are carried in a half ton of cat poo)) 

… has been (I am happy to report) a success!  It was not without it’s struggles.  It was time consuming.  It was a hot, dirty, messy job.  It took up four of my seven days off.  It caused me to have to cut a hole in the ceiling of one of our boy’s bedroom closets, and will eventually cause me to have to remove and replace a large portion of the ceiling in the other boy’s bedroom.  

But, I again am pleased with the results thus far. 

Let me recap…

First I found the poo in the ceiling.  Then, I struggled to remove it using only the tools I had at hand.  Finding this to fail miserablly, I set out to upgrade some of the tools I needed, and do a little more “demo” work in and around the house to allow me access.  (If you have not heard the whole story yet – be sure to check out THIS LINK.)

After what I assumed to be a wasted day (running errands picking up the upgraded tools I thought I would need, stopping for lunch, and nabbing one other completely unnecessary item) I was delighted to see how much a difference the upgraded shop vac hose actually made!  What I did was this…

I upgraded the shopvac hose from 1 1/4 inch to 2 1/2 inch.  I borrowed a neighbor’s 2 1/2 inch hose, so that I had a combined lenght of sixteen feet to work with.  I attached the end of the shop vac hose to the end of my duck decoy retrieval tool (extendes out to sixteen feet) and climbed up into the rafters, attacking the “mess” from two different angles.

 

 

Here is where the cats were getting access.

You can see the vacuum hose hanging from the ceiling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here you can see the hose attached to the duck decoy retrieval tool. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What I was able to do was lift the pole, which raised the far end of the hose up. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because I taped the tip of the duck decoy pole to the end of the hose (leaving a bit of the hose extended past beyond the end of the decoy pole) – when I lifted the pole, gravity pulled the end of the hose down a bit, giving me the perfect angle to maneuver around and remove the offending cat poo.

 

 

 

Not only did it work so well on the spaces I had not cleaned up, it worked so well I went back and re-did the first two spaces I did previously, and picked up the few pieces I could not retrieve with the smaller hose! 

I got more done in a few short hours (with the big hose) than I did in a whole day’s worth of work (with the smaller hose).

After a couple of hours worth of cleaning (and retrieving approximately 80% of the offending material) I changed from a “clean up” approach to a “prevention” approach.  I was leaving for a weekend hunting trip, and wanted to make sure that the cats had no further access to this space.  I used copious amounts of fiberglass insulation, stuffing the areas the cats gained access tight with insulation.  Then, to ensure they would not pull the insulation out, I covered it with plastic, stapling it tight, and removed a shelf that they were using to climb up on.

This job was by far the worst part of the ordeal.  The fiberglass dust was attacking my allergies like you would not believe.  My arms, face, stomach and back were covered with fiberglass rash. It got into my shirt and through my clothing.    A day later I was still suffering with the effects of the fiberglass rash.

After returning from my hunting trip (and having one last day off) it was time to finish the job.  I moved my “attack” to the access hole in the closet and went after the mess from the different angle that the access allowed me. 

Several hours later, I could say that I vacuumed up all the poo!  There was nothing left to be seen!!

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This is a photo looking both directions from the access panel.  (Left – over the worst part of the mess – this area was almost solid poo.  A virtual “poo landscape” if you will)  (Right – there were a few bits here, but it’s all gone now)

 

At this point, I was calling the “removal of the HazMat” successfully complete! 

It was time to clean up MY mess.  Shopvac, hoses, extension wands, duck decoy poll, tools, lights, extension cords, drywall, drywall dust, etc, etc, etc – Many of which were also in contact with the “HazMat”

I cleaned up the majority of my mess by hauling it outside, and soaking it in a concentrated bleach solution.  They have been air drying outside now for almost a day. 

So, what’s left???

Well, I have to finish framing in the access panel in my son’s closet – making it a permanent access point (just in case). 

Then, some time in the foreseeable future I have decided I will have to replace the ceiling.  The smell is almost all gone, but there is some staining on the drywall above.  There is BY FAR much less “pee” stains than there was poo, but there is enough staining up there to make me want to replace the ceiling.  But I feel much better with out the poo up there while I wait for an opportunity to replace the ceiling.   

With Operation CPC now complete – It’s time to return to my regularly less exciting (and poo filled) life…

One last question I hear you all asking me…  What happened with the cats?

Nothing.  I did not even get angry with them. 
After all, I suspect my cats also suffer (much like myself) with a case of Parcopresis.

Minnesota State Fair - 2009 - Part 2 - The Details

As promised in a previous post (Minnesota State Fair - 2009 - Part 1 - Photos), I will share a bit -o- the Minnesota State Fair with you all.

A day before we were going to the fair, the Mother of Five was on the phone with her mother, and we found out that we were both planning on going to the State Fair on the same day.  Plans were made to drive up together, and spend at least some of the day together.

We utilized a "Park-n-Ride" and rode a very nice coach bus to the fair from the parking lot.  Unfortunatly the lines were so long (as was our wait to get on the bus) that when we reached the bus, the driver told us he could take us as long as we were OK standing.  We accepted the offer - and climbed aboard.  Two very nice young teenage girls offered to give up their seats for my in-laws (an usual gesture in this day and age).

I'll be honest.  The state fair is nothing more than a food-fest for me.  99.99% of the rest of the stuff - I could take or leave - it's just filler.  People watching, and food.  Food and people watching. 

My "regular" diet of food fair consists of (not in any specific order) a Pronto Pup (corn dog), foot long hot dog (smothered in onions), a portion of Fried Cheese Curds, a "Wimpy" hamburger, alligator on a stick, and soda.

I arrived at the fair "hungry".  Hungry for a foot long.  The first booth we stopped at was the Pronto Pup stand (for the kids that did not want a foot long).  Then, we scurried down the street for a round of foot longs... (Photo on previous post)

Folks, I can eat fast (it comes with my job).  But I was AMAZED at the speed and efficiency #2 of 5 put away his foot long hot dog.  I am not exaggerating when I say it would be more accurate to measure it in seconds than in minutes...  I do not think that dog was outside his stomach for more that 59 seconds.  I was afraid to get my fingers too close for fear that they may have been pulled into that vortex.  YIKES!

Once we finished the pronto pups and foot longs, I disappeared down the street, and snagged some Mini Donuts for all to share for "desert".  I am quite certain #5 of 5 enjoyed them more than anyone!  (Photo on previous post)

Now that we all had an initial round of food in us, it was time to make our way through the rest of the fair.  Home improvement building, Creative Arts Building, Marketplace, and various other points of interest.

The crowds were HUGE (Record breaking numbers for attendance this year).  The smells, sounds, and sights of the fair were all around us.  We made our way through the crowd, and arrived at the Stihl Chainsaws & Cabela's Ironjack Lumberjack show.  We were 35 minutes early...

JUST ENOUGH TIME TO GRAB A GIANT BAG OF KETTLE KORN TO HELP KILL THE TIME!!

As we waited, we all pounded down the Kettle Korn.... Mmmm... Sweet and salty = Savory!  Trust me on that! (Photo on previous post)

The Lumberjack show was good, but the same show I have seen for YEARS now.  It's saving grace for me.... #5 of 5 had not yet seen it, so you could see some fascination in her face!  This could very well be the last year for the lumberjack show...

After the Lumberjack show it was time to say goodbye to my in-laws.  My father in law had to work that evening. 

After parting ways, the rest of us continued meandering around the fair, until we reached the next mecca of foodly pilgrimage. 

Cheese Curds!  (Photo on previous post)

The Mother of Five took our soda cups to the Pepsi stand for refills, and I took #3 of 5 with me and we hit the Cheese Curd Booth.  I picked up two containers of Cheese Curds, and snacked while we waited for the Mother of Five.  By the time she arrived, she had also made a quick detour and had a container of Deep Fried Pickles to add to our greasy bounty! 

That's two containers of curds, and one container of pickles, and a new round of sodas (for those out there counting)...  With the addition of the pickles - there was more than enough to go around ("more than enough" being the key phrase here folks).

I did finally reach that point of realization that "I should stop now", but like any good fairgoer, I ignored that little voice of wisdom, and instead listened to the voice that said "These things cost way to much to throw away... Eat up fatty, you know you can do it!"

... Sigh... 

In all reality, I most likely ate one container of curds (and a single bite of pickle - since I do not care much for pickles) by myself.  Not completely unusual - many folks eat a whole container by themselves.  But normally, I am not a big cheese eater, so by the time I was done my stomach was now saying (louder than the voices heard earlier) "What have you done to me??  Oh man, I am going to REALLY get you back!!"...

Which it did.

This my friends, is where my culinary delight ended.  1 foot long, some Kettle Korn, Cheese Curds, and a BITE of deep fried pickle.  Within a few minutes, my gut was rolling like a California Earthquake...  And folks, when you (or at least my) gut gets rolling like that, it's not long before you start feelin' down the ol' "lower G.I. tract" - if you know what I mean.

Parcopresis and Paruresis... Need I say more? 

We did more shopping in the Grandstand Vendor areas, and did even more walking - which did nothing to help churn up that delightful brew that was stewing away inside of me. 

As the end of our day approached, we started taking into consideration all the things the kids still wanted to do, see, and eat before we left, and then developed our exit strategy.  First up.  the "Haunted Mansion".

#2 of 5 is our big fan of the Haunted Mansion.  He had been hounding to go in since we arrived.  #3 of 5 had no interested in going in, and #5 of 5 is too small for such a fright.  #4 of 5 seemed hesitant, but also seemed like she wanted to go.  After much hemming and hawing, she pulled the trigger and decided to give it a try.  They (#2 and #4 of 5) tried to get  me to go in with them, but folks, I have a ethical duty to be honest with you - Given the way my... um.... how shall we say...  "thunder down under" was intensifying - I am certain the result of going in the "Haunted Mansion" would be having to close it down, while a "Bio-spill" needed to be cleaned on the floor.  So, #2 and #4 of 5 went in on their own.  The both came out with a smile (although #4 of 5's smile was mixed shock and smile) - but they said they liked it!  (Photo on previous post)

While waiting for the kids inside the "Haunted Mansion" - we found  a spot on a bench.  The Mansion was right next door to and even more frightening, even more disturbing, even more honorific venue...  The MASSIVE public restroom.  The constant reminder of it's presence was only overshadowed by the nightmarishly paralyzing idea of actually going in there... So, I sat and let it torture me. (Photo on previous post)

Next up on the "must do" list was cotton candy.  Thankfully - the cotton candy booth was right outside the bathrooms and the "Haunted Mansion".  Mother of Five bought a sack of cotton candy, and the kids (and MOF) went to town.   I stayed out of the cotton candy.  A.)  I HATE the stuff.  B.) I was still gurgling away. 

Nope, no cotton candy for me.

We then made our way through the "International Bazaar", and off to the Dairy building for a peek at the butter sculptures, and a couple of shakes.  One chocolate, One vanilla.  Shared.  Hoping the vanilla shake may help sooth my rolling digestive tract, I did manage a few spoonfuls, but I was not going to risk adding any further pressure on the "valve" where more vanilla shake would eventually end.

Final request on the way out...  Deep Fried onion blossom.  Normally - I would have GLEEFULLY partaken in such a delightful delicacy - but since the disaster with the cheese curds, I was down for the count.  In fact, we ALL were down for the count (except #3 of 5 - who wanted the onion blossom). 

After a short bout of performing the Jedi Mind Trick reasoning with him (promising a trip to a local restaurant where we could order one at another time, and a gentle reminder that deep fried fair food does not "fare" well in the refrigerator) we agreed to call it a day.

A quick coach bus ride back to the parking lot - and we were on our way home. 

Folks, I can not believe I am saying this, but by the time we got home (about a hour away) everyone was complaining how HUNGRY they were!?!?!  Mother of five wanted anything green and leafy - the kids did not care - and I wanted NOTHING to do with putting anything more in my mouth...  So a quick stop at our local McDonalds - and we were home. 

The kids were all exhausted, and went to bed without problems.  Mother of Five and I were also exhausted - and in bed sleeping shortly after the kids. 

Around 1am - unbeknownst to us - #5 of 5 had crawled into bed between us, and snuggled in (not that uncommon).  What was uncommon - was vomiting noise (and smell) as the spot between us (that currently was occupied with #5 of 5) was quickly filled with semi (mostly) digested fair food.

On the up side (at least for me) was the fact that while she was laying there, she just happened to be facing the Mother of Five - so MOF got the raw end of that deal...  Which left me with the delightful task of cleaning the bed while MOF cleaned #5 of 5 and herself. 

The vomiting continued every two hours - WELL into the next day...  We thought it was the result of the overly greasy fair food, until (just as #5 of 5 was feeling better a day later) #4 of 5 did the same thing.  Only #4 of 5 did it at her school's "open house" - christening the bathroom floor for the new school year!

I guess it was not the fair food after all...

Forests, Trees, and Public Restrooms

Sometimes, it's difficult to see the forest through the trees - just like how sometimes it's difficult to see the obvious through the anxiety... 

FOF, what are you talking about??  Are you ok?  Did you forget to take your meds again? 

No... I am not going crazy - even though in some ways - maybe - I'm already there...  Take, for instance, a couple of little phobias like Parcopresis, and Paruresis.

Regular visitors are accustomed to reading about these phobias of mine.  If you do not know what they are, please follow the links provided.

Under "normal" circumstances - these are not really a big problem for me.  I have come up with my own "coping" techniques, and for 99% of the time it's not even something I even think about, as it never really "becomes" an issue (thanks to those coping mechanisms I just spoke of). 

Yet, there is still that 1% of the time that coping mechanisms are not effective, or not practical.  Take for example - last week... 

I had my day planned - and so I did not expect to run into any "problems" - but when the day's plans changed, and I had to add a trip to Target, dinner out, and a last minute stop at Sam's Club after I got off duty (without a chance to stop at home) - my struggles with parcopresis reared it's ugly head.

I'll save you all the "details" (don't all thank me at once), but let's take up this story at the point we were at Sam's - when I was telling the Mother of Five that we would not be able to stay long...  No, not long at all.  In fact, we should probably have left about 20 minutes ago (it's a 20 minute drive home). 

In other words... Things are getting pretty bad!

That's when the clouds parted, and a ray of sunshine from the heavens shown down upon me.  It was when the Mother of Five said...  "Why don't you just use the "FAMILY ROOM".  They have one here, and It has a lock on the door".

(Blank stair on my face... Crickets chirping...)

Hmm...  The family room.  I can be alone.  The Doors lock.  Solitude.  Hmmm... Well, maybe...  I'll keep it in the back of my mind it case of an "emergency".

Less than five minutes later - I was making a bee-line for the "Family Room".

When I arrived at the "Family Room", I (thankfully) found it unoccupied.  As I entered, and verified that the door did indeed have a lock on it, I was hit with the instantly recognizable and overbearing odiferous evidence of an eighty-something year old woman who doused herself with an overly heavy layer of "ode-de-grandmother" (or other similarly scented perfume, splash, spray, or powder that is frequently found on the grandmotherly among us).  You know the smell.. the ones that make you INSTANTLY think "Grandma !!")

Which, by the way, sounds like I am referring to it as a "bad thing".  For clarity... I AM NOT.  I both love and miss my grandmothers so very much... It's that reason that makes this scent stand out so much...  It reminds me of my own grandmothers.

I was immediately creepd out by the fact that "Nah-nuh", "Grammy" (or what ever cute pet name her grandchildren called the woman who last used this room) may have left only moments before.  Heck, the seat may still be "warm".  (~shiver~)

I also continued to try and remind myself that the voice in my head that was saying these oddly weird and disturbing ideas was coming from a place that is a bit "out-of-whack". 

From the moment I opened the door, until the the whole ordeal was nothing more than a bad memory - my skin was tingling with anxiety (and not in a good way)...  It almost brought me to tears...  I was actually having a conversation with "that voice", and repeatedly told myself that the "voice" was being irrational, and that everything was going to be o.k.

In the end, I was able to successfully complete the mission (or at least partially), and was able to buy myself enough time until I could relax in the safety of my own bathroom...    

FOF... Seriously... What is the matter with you... I really think there is something wrong with you.  Why would you share this with us?

Well, for a couple reasons...  First and foremost  - after I was able to calm down the "rational" and "healthy" side of my brain kicked in - and I started seeing the humorous side of all of this...  How ridiculous it all is... I even started chuckling to and at myself!  OUT LOUD!  I hope YOU did too!

Secondly...  I wanted to point out that through the anxiety, how I was unable to spot the obvious...  And only through having the Mother of Five point it out to me, did I even consider the possibility that, in the worst of emergencies (and I have been there a few times) there may be a possibility.

Thirdly - I realized that by thinking through this process, I was able to see that IN THE WORST CASES, I am able to triumph over my own psychological struggles.  That even though it's a pretty strange phobia to have, things could be worse...  That I am (maybe) only HALF CRAZY!

Finally - You would be amazed at the number of hits I get here for people searching out parcopresis and paruresis.  Maybe someone will hit on this post - and by my telling this story I can share the compromise that I myself could not see without it being pointed out...  The whole "If this post could help at least ONE person, then the shame, humiliation, and embarrassment of sharing it with the world would all be worthwhile." type of thought...  

This only serves to make things worse...

By now, most of you know I have issues with Parcopresis and with Paruresis.

For those of you unfamiliar with these terms, let me share... (definitions from wikipedia)

Parcopresis - A psychological disorder, more accurately termed psychogenic fecal retention, whereby the sufferer is unable to defecate unless they have a certain level of privacy. The level of privacy involved varies from sufferer to sufferer. The condition has also been termed shy bowel.

Paruesis - also known as pee shyness, shy kidney, bashful bladder, stage fright, urophobia, shy phallus or shy bladder syndrome, is a type of phobia in which the sufferer is unable to urinate in the (real or imaginary) presence of others, such as in a public restroom.

Well, the other day while surfing the net, I did a google search for Parcopresis (don't ask me why...), and out of a morbid and sick sense of curiosity - I clicked on the image search...

http://images.google.com/images?um=1&hl=en&q=Parcopresis&btnG=Search+Images

Go ahead... Click on it.  Come back when you are done... I'll wait...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

JUST WHEN DID I BECOME THE POSTER CHILD FOR PARCOPRESIS????

Porta-Potty Pressure Cooker - Part 1 - The Introduction

This post (the first in a four part series) is a month late. I started writing it, and it kept growing. The more I sat down and wrote on it, the more I wanted to say, and the longer it got. Since it was (collectively) a HUGE post, it got put on the back burner.

I recently read a post by My Family and Other Animals titled Pioneer of Blogging. Towards the end of the post she talked about her husband and (I think) teased him a bit about having to take one of their children to a public restroom. Upon reading this, I was inspired to finish the yet-unfinished post with some similar content...

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Porta-Potty Pressure Cooker - Part 1 - The Introduction

Before I head any further into this story, I need to explain something to any new readers. I HATE PUBLIC BATHROOMS... Hate 'em. Can't stand 'em. Having to choose between messing myself and using a public restroom... I'd have to seriously consider my options.. SERIOUSLY... CONSIDER... THEM...

Many of you know (and for the sake of those that do not), I suffer with a pretty significant case of Paruresis / Parcopresis. Some times it's a "germ thing" (have you seen the inside of a men's restroom?), but most of the time it's about it being a "Public Restroom Thing". Not until many years later, while reading the Strategies listed on the Wikipedia Page that I realized (without knowing it) that I utilize 14 of the 19 listed strategies. (That's a whopping 74%)

Add to this, a God (with what I believe may be a wild sense of humor) who would team me up with children that (much like wild animals) have a natural instinct to "mark their territory"... EVERYWHERE... You are left with the fact that we are unable to go anywhere, and I... MEAN... ANYWHERE... without having to use the bathroom - and often, several times.

Does it matter that they "just went" at the last store? No... They have to go here too.

Does it matter that the next stop (in a mere 15 minutes) is our home? No... They can't "hold it" for another few minutes..

So, more often than I care to think about, (and against every fiber of my being) I find myself inside a public restroom.

Now you know more about me that you EVER cared to...

While at this years Summerfete celebration, my children were unable (like they always are) to maintain composure of their bladders and / or bowels. My wife (bless her public-restroom-loving-heart) knows to what extent I will go, in order to "not go", or even "enter" a public restroom.

I think there have been a couple of times that I have successfully shocked her with how far I will go in order to "not go"...

Again, blessing her (public-restroom-loving) heart - she will almost always take the kids to the bathroom... almost... And as much as I appreciate this (which is more than she will ever realize), she too has her limits.

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Hmmm... That sounds like some "foreshadowing", and perhaps a little "segue" into Part 2!

Stay tuned...

Dedicated to my sister...

I'm going to dedicate this, my first post of 2008 to my sister.

She is going to be starting off 2008 with a difficult task. Her long time companion Missy (her cat) has been getting progressively sicker over the past month or so. After a visit to the vet in December, she was told that Missy was likely dealing with a condition called Feline Hepatic Lipidosis (a liver condition) and it is either secondary to some sort of an infection or to cancer.

The only way to diagnose it as cancer is to do an intrusive biopsy, so my sister (who is very attached to Missy) decided that she is no worse off by treating it. Since the discovery of this, she has been feeding her cat "no less than 1/3 cup of liquid/puree food total per day, and 100cc of water". This is all done via an eyedropper every 3 hours. My sister was told that if Missy did not start getting better within a week or two, than it can be assumed to be cancer. (The liver condition with the infection would typically improve in that time frame.)

It has been just under a month now, and my sister has been desperately trying to care for her Missy. She has sent me numerous e-mails about this, but this morning, she sent an email that I could tell she had a difficult time writing. She told me that since they have not seen any improvements, the decision to end Missy's suffering has been made.

I (to the best of my knowledge) do not believe my sister has ever had to have an animal euthanized. She has made the decision to be present with / for Missy when it happens. I have been there / done that. It's not easy.

I pride myself on being able to detach emotionally from many things. (Some say this is very unhealthy.) I believe my career has a lot to do with this, but that is a post for another time. Let's just say it takes a mountain (and a half) of emotion to move me. Putting down our last cat hit me pretty hard.

With that being said, I agree that she should be there "for Missy" (and for herself). Based on how attached she is to Missy, I believe this will be a very difficult task for her.

What does an (adult) big brother tell his (adult) little sister when she is so obviously in pain. When we were younger, helping her with difficult times was easy.

I can think of one instance where a classmate relentlessly harassed her. I heard all about what she was going through, and the steps she had taken to stop it ("legitimately" through the school staff). When that failed, and faced with the pain and tears of my sister - I took it upon myself to "take care" of the situation in "my own way". I helped this classmate "understand" what he was doing was "wrong" and that continued harassment would result in further "involvement" on my part. This classmate got back up, dusted himself off, and threatened to have a friend take care of me in the same manner (I think the exact words were "kick the shit" out of me). After a couple of threats of retaliation by his friends, I heard nothing more from this classmate or his posse of "shit kickers". To the best of my knowledge there was no further harassment towards my sister either.

If only I could help my sister the way I did back in high school. Like I said, back then - it was easy. Nowadays, we are both grown adults. My sister has become a very accomplished woman (more energetic, enthusiastic, and capable then I can be). We live a thousand miles apart - and both have very busy lives that keep us less "in touch" with each other as we should. But that does not change the love that I hold in my heart for her. Seeing her in pain, and not being able to do anything to help hurts me.

So, I do what I can. I am reassuring. I have told her what she is doing is the right thing. That every living thing has it's "time", and I try to soothe a little bit of her pain with words. Words that are based in logic, and reasoning - but as she has told me - "Yea, the brain knows all those things, but the heart can't quite get it yet. I just can't seem to stop crying."

I can use the power of my words here to share with my sister (and the rest of the world) that which I am not very good at sharing in person. I can tell her that her stoic, (at times) emotionless giant of a big brother is feeling for her, and trying his best (across the miles, and through our busy schedules) to help her through this difficult time. To let her know that she is in my thoughts, and prayers - and that (even though I am a thousand miles away, and sometimes too busy to even stop and poop - (which combined with a case of Parcopresis - is not an easy thing to deal with)) I will do what I can to be there for her.

So, please feel free to share any kind words, thoughts, or experience you may have so that I can pass along to my sister to help her out. It's the least I can do for her.

A little more on Paruresis and Parcopresis.

My recent admission of having to deal with Paruresis and Parcopresis created an flurry of conversation at work and home. It would seem that several of my co-workers, and a member of my wife's family (with a medical background) have told me just how bad this is for me.

Perhaps... I don't know... But, it is not anything I have any control over. It just "wont happen". I have not talked much about it here, but I left a comment over on Many Things Do Not Fly a while ago that just touches on how I feel. At the bottom of that comment, you will see some "color commentary" I made about men's restrooms.

I am not sure most women believe me when I tell them what life is like in a men's room, I have been told that I am "exaggerating"...

Well - today with the help of (and thanks to) Jerry Chicken (another "Father Bloger" that I read) and HIS POST I am now able to confirm what I have been saying for years, and felt like no one has believed me.
(If you have recently eaten, or have a weak constitution, you may not want to read it. You have been warned!)

You may think that this is an exaggerated story... Think again. Jerry is opening up his soul here, and having spent time in a men's restroom, I can confirm the accuracy of what he is saying... (Although I was not a witness to HIS "event", I have been in a men's restroom for other's "events".)

My Paruresis and Parcopresis come from a fear of being either the accidental suspect or the unwilling victim of one of these "events"...

Thanks Jerry!

Tomahawk 2007

August 4 - August 10
(I attended as a chaperone from Aug 4 - August 7)

Jonathan is our first Boy Scout. He “crossed over” to Boy Scouts from Weblos last winter, and has been pretty involved in the “Boy Scouts” since.T

he highlight of the year is the week long camping trip to “Tomahawk Scout Camp”. I have discussed the planning of this event a bit in prior posts, but the date finally arrived.

Here is a pic from one of the preliminary meetings. (Jonathan is the one with the teeth and the sunburn.)

Throughout the planning process I discovered, fretted, and realized a few things that made me a bit apprehensive about attending this “vacation”.

#1 - Discovery - I was under the impression that all first year parents were going to be spending time with seasoned scouts, and all first time scouts were going to be spending time with seasoned parents. This was the most disappointing of all. You see, we did not take a “vacation” this year so that I would be able to use my vacation days to attend “Tomahawk”. When I heard that I would not even be spending time with Jonathan - well, that truly disappointed me.

#2 - Fret - Bathrooms. My bathroom phobias are a post for another time, but needless to say any time I am away from home for more than two or three days (my “holding it“ limit), bathroom layouts, locations, and conditions are frequently in the forefront of my mind.

#3 -Realized - I doubted the reliability of my 1994 Teal colored Ford Escort 4-door with 1.9l engine and a 5-speed transmission, with over 193,000 miles on it, a cracked windshield, broken struts, strut supports, one broken leaf spring, and (at the time) a significant vacuum leak that killed the engine at idle (the vacuum leak has been discovered and temporarily repaired since returning). Nope, I was not about to take other peoples children in my car (and I use the term “car” loosely). Folks, the darn thing is paid for, and gets between 33-35 mph. I am planning on driving this car until there is NOTHING left of it. But, regardless of the positive aspects of this vehicle, it is not something to transport Boy Scouts on a 300 mile journey in... Period.

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Solution #1 - Solution to #1 came when (as I was unable to attend) I sent my #1 secretary wife to the final meeting, and had her ask why I would even want to (let alone “have to”) attend if I was not spending time with Jonathan. I am happy to report that I was mistaken, and it was made clear to me (via my wife), how I misunderstood the whole notion. I was indeed able to spend time with Jonathan! I could have even shared a tent with him, but he was interested in tenting with his friends (and I thought the peer socialization would do him some good!)

Solution #2 - Did not occur to me until day two of the trip. You will just have to read more to find out more. (or skip over that portion of this post and "use your imagination"!)

Solution #3 - My father was happy to lend a hand here, and volunteered the use of his 2003 Hyundai Sonata. This car made the trip so much less stressful. Thanks Mom & Dad (if you are reading this). It was greatly appreciated.Well, with most (except #2) of my discoveries, fretts, and realizations cleared up, it was time to go.

Most of my regular readers will be expecting a boring detailed minute by minute, blow by blow itinerary of what happened. I could do that, but it would take me a week to write the darn thing, and it would take most readers about 32 seconds before dismissing it as garbage. So, I’m not going down that road. Instead, I am going to share a few basic observations, and a couple of tid-bit highlights for you.

After an (about) two week drought, it is inevitable that the day we leave (and need to be standing in a parking lot – transferring backpacks, sleeping bags, pillows, and other miscelanious camping gear, is the first day (and the exact hour we are to be meeting) we get a significant rainfall. (But, at this point I could not have cared any less about the rain – it was needed!)

Three 11 year old boys sitting in a car with a parent who seemed to be engrossed in driving, and listing to Blue October’s Foiled CD, seemingly are oblivious that there may be adult ears that (although appear to not be listing) can hear EVERYTHING that is being said.

I was able to determine that it is around age 11 (somewere between fifth and six grades) that boys are beginning to notice girls, and are beginning to brag about who “liked” them and just how significant of a “liking” it really was. (No way, she told me that she REALLY, REALLY liked me – and that was after she said she liked you!)

Even when his friends are talking freely about girls (oblivious to my presence), I believe a son will always be more careful when his own father is within ear shot. Not one word of girls from my boy. I don’t know if this is good or bad – but with all the other talk, I find it odd.

Three eleven-year-old boys in the car (plus) nothing to do for nearly three hours (minus) anyone who cared enough to quiet them down (divided by) running out of girls to talk about (equals) an hour of hysterical pre-pubescent laughter brought on by a barrage of “fart noises” blown into their hands (which were cupped over their mouths).

Other than an uneventful stop for lunch at a Perkins, being served by a young waitress with “way too white teeth to be real” (that looked like they cost WAY too much to be bought on a Perkins waitress’ income), the remainder of the trip to Tomahawk was routine.

Upon arrival, (and about 3/4 of a mile hike from the parking lot) we located the Oak Campsite (our campsite), and started establishing a “base camp”. Some tents were already set up. Tent sites are on small wooden decks, with two or three tents to a grouping. There were about twenty tent sites in all in Oak Camp. Some Scouts brought their own tents to be put on an empty deck, some scouts brought their own tents to set up inside the canvas tents, but most of the scouts just used the canvas tents.

The tents were canvas, with no netting. They had a left and right side, a tie-able flap on the front and back, and a roof. Each site was provided two cots. Thankfully my neighbor provided me some mosquito netting to surround my cot with (which, by the way worked perfectly!).

All of our “Smell-ables” (soap, deodorant, toothpaste, snacks, munchies, bug spray, or anything that “smelled”) were put into Rubbermaid containers, and the containers were stacked in the “Bear Box”. The “Bear Box” is an old electrical transformer box that was hollowed out of all it’s electrical equipment, and had a couple of shelves installed.

The bathrooms were “latrines” style toilets. Each campsite had two (back to back) in an outhouse style structure. One of the two had a rudimentary urinal in it. Next to each latrine was a basin style sink. Across the top length of the basin (about 4 feet long) was a pipe with holes drilled in it. At the end of the pipe was a ball valve. Turn the ball valve, and pressurized water filled the pipe (drilled with holes) and voila – you have a four foot long faucet (not that a bunch of pre-teen and teenaged boys would even use a sink for anything….)

The campsite also had two fire-rings, a couple of picnic tables, and a bulletin board, and because Oak was so close to the lake, we had our own private little floating dock.

The beach held both the swimming and boating recreational facilities. There were three swimming sections. The “Non-Swimmer” where you could go about knee deep, the “Beginner” that went from knee to about 6’ depth, and the “Swimmer” area that went from 6’ to ??. The “Swimmer” area had a pontoon platform, and an inflatable trampoline. The Beginner area had water polo nets at each end. The “Non-Swimmer” area had… Lots of… Sand? The boat docks had several sailboards, several small sailboats, a catamaran, and a larger “cabin” style sailboat. (Not really all that big though).

The next area we experienced was the Weeks Dining shelter and the “Moo Shack”. Weeks was a humongous cement slab – with a timber style roof support system and a roof over the slab. (No walls). There were dozens of picnic tables, and a row of head tables. The “Moo Shack” was a small (glorified) storage shed with power (to keep a refrigerator running), and storage for non-perishables (Peanut butter, jelly, ketchup and mustard, and mayo packs), bread, etc.
Down a large hill from Weeks, was the flag ceremony area. (Boy, the Boy Scouts really take their flag etiquette seriously!) The flag was raised and lowered each morning and evening in a very formal ceremony. It was very interesting to partake in!

Beyond Weeks and the Flag pole were the showers. Boys on one side, Adults & Camp Staff split the other side (for obvious reasons). Adults were not allowed into the boys side even to clean. No exceptions. The facilities were… adequate.

There was a staff dorm area (off limits), and building with a meeting room (upstairs) and a trading post (downstairs).

Moms and Dads, if you are reading this post in anticipation of sending your boy to Tomahawk, keep in mind that the Trading post is, how do I say this respectfully – E-X-P-E-N-S-I-V-E-! You can expect that your scout will be paying just under a dollar (90 cents) for a candy bar, a small sized slushy, and other miscellaneous sugary treats. The cost of the supplies for the merit badges also can be a factor. The required supplies (without any “optional” supplies) for the Woodworking and the Leather craft classes alone are going to cost you a ten-spot.

For my ten bucks I got…

(one) 12”x12”x1/2” slab of pine (to carve)
(one) Neckerchief slide (also pine – to carve)
(one) leather kit (I bought Jonathan a pocket knife pouch)
(one) leather “round” (3” circle of leather)
(two) lengths of plastic strapping (for a weaving project to go with the leather round)

It was about 4 bucks worth of stuff.

The only redeemable quality was that the (huge) profits this place was makes goes back into the camp – so I felt a little less disgusted.

In another area of the camp you can find the shotgun range, the rifle range, and the archery range. (Costs: Three shotgun shells for a dollar, ten .22 cal cartridges for twenty-five cents, and ten arrows for free.)

At the furthest end of the camp was the horse barn (with 6 horses and a permanent “human foosball court”).

For the naturalists there was Eco (The Ecology building). They held classes on weather, birds, wildlife, insects, plants, wilderness survival, and other Ecology based curriculum.

Last and certainly not least was “Scoutcraft”. I spent most of my time at “Scoutcraft”. Scoutcraft was like an “island” where the trail to Eco and the Equestrian area looped around. Scoutcraft had stations set up for Woodworking, Leather Craft, a huge climbing tower, an “Axe Yard”, and a play area that our troop affectionately re-named “Slip and bleed”. “Slip and Bleed” was a humongous playground of ropes, nets, tightropes, cable carriages, swings and all sorts of wood, and rope contraptions built in, around, and among the trees! It was a “tween” boy’s dream! It was nick named “Slip and Bleed” because of all the minor injuries (to include, abrasions, contusions, sprains, strains, and lacerations) that all but a few from our troop fell victim to. Any time the boys had more than five extra minutes to spare, they would run off to “Slip and Bleed” to play.

Each of the new scouts were signed up for the “Brownsea” class. No, Brownsea has nothting to do with the latrines. Brownsea was the name of the island the very first set of Boy Scouts were taken for a campout back in 1907. They were taught all the necessary things about growing up a boy. The tradition is carried on to this day, and when a Boy Scout gets his Brownsea patch, he has completed almost everything he needs to move up his first rank from “Scout” to “Tenderfoot”. Brownsea class was two hours each day.

Jonathan also took Woodcarving, and Leatherwork. Both were held in the Scoutcraft area. In Woodcarving, Jonathan chose to carve a 3d image of a Loon in the block of wood. He was also required to carve a canoe paddle neckerchief slide. I actually had a lot of fun watching in this class, and even got my hands on a u gouge and helped out a teensy bit (but I felt guilty about it).

Leather craft was the last of Jonathan’s 4 electives (Brownsea (2 hours), Woodworking (1 hour) and Leathercraft (1 hour). In Leathercraft the boys were taught about leather, Neatsfoot oil, decorating leather, sewing leather, some weaving (in this case plastic straps) and were asked to put together a leather kit of their choice. (I picked the knife sheath for Joanthan – he LOVED it!)

Tip for the sufferers of Paruresis or Parcopresis. During Merit badge classes, the camp is all but empty EVERWHERE execpt the class areas. That, folks, was my saving grace.

In addition to the 4 (actually 3) classes Jonathan took, Jonathan also took part in several “Troop Activities”. Jonathan climbed (and rappelled back down) the climbing tower, spent a lot of time at the rifle range, tried his hand at archery, OD’ed on sugar from the Trading Post, spent some time at the Aquatics Center (swimming), did a lot of whittling, carving, and weaving on his down time, and spent a lot of time with his friends just hanging out.

The meals were good. “Comfort food” is what I would call them. Chicken, Stew, Corn dogs, omelets, etc. Not great, but not bad either. PB and J was an alternative at EVERY meal.

I know there is more to talk about, but I am afraid I could go on for hours.

Overall (and to summarize), I had a very good time. I am glad I went, and any concerns I had from the get go were quickly quashed. I know Jonathan made some lifetime memories (as did I). He is already looking forward to next year’s trip. I too am looking forward to attending again next year - with Zachary as a first year Boy Scout!