Life

Mad about Ernie

  • by Drew

Did you ever hear of Ernie Kovacs? He is one of those classic comedians who was just off the charts funny. He did groundbreaking television work, he was an early contributor to Mad Magazine, when it was the absolute king of American satire. He was known for playing all sorts of crazy characters, always shilling Dutch Master cigars. He made the music of Esquivel cool 30-plus years before hipsters in the 90s got into space age bachelor pad groovy lounge music. He died young, but his influence is so crucial to what we find funny today. Look him up, kids. Kovacs with a K.

Booze

Insure this

  • by Drew

Memories of when we had the addition put on the house… I remember talking to one of the contractors about guaranteed issue life insurance. I never knew there was such a thing, but apparently it exists. If you smoke, drink, drive recklessly and get lots of tickets, have a family history of things like diabetes and heart failure it seems that some would consider you an “insurance risk.” for those of you not up on the lingo, that means you are a “risk” to “insure.” Yes, apparently providing insurance to high risk individuals is not the business of most insurance companies.

Who knew.

But there is hope, friends. A few benevolent providers are out there, willing to work with you. They can provide you and your family the peace of mind you deserve. Cuz let’s face it, your time is running out. FAST!

Life

The plumbers came at the crack of dawn

  • by Drew

Well, not exactly, but they did arrive pretty early. I just wanted to write PLUMBER and CRACK in the same sentence… cuz that’s how I roll.

We’re having more work done to correct the nonsense perpetrated by the builder (now in the wind) and the contractors who did our addition (apparently physically unable to step foot on our property ever again).

Someone told me it was the fault of manufactured homes. I pointed out that we actually live in a modular home, which is pretty different. And also, the only problems we have are with stuff that was done on site by contractors – you know, the purveyors of the stick build and detractors of the modular build. So… maybe they should get their “do it right” hats on and leave their “deny my screwups by making cracks about the modern way of doing things” visor on the work bench in their garage at home.

Life

Shouldn’t have napped

  • by Drew

I am confused by water. Not the water itself so much as all the machines and chemicals and brouhaha available to mess with it. We have a well and that works pretty well for us. We also have a filter on the incoming line because we once discovered that sometimes the water coming in from the well has some fine sediment in it. And that crap adds up.

We have hard water. We deal with that with a soft bristled toothbrush and vinegar when the crust develops on the fixtures because I don’t want a water softener. I’ve just heard too many questionable things about water softeners. And wany, I’m supposed to watch my salt intake, do I relaly need to be drinking homemade sea water just to keep my faucet sparkly a little longer?

The thing that gets me is this reverse osmosis stuff. I know I should have stayed awake more in science class. It has something to do with stuff leeching into other stuff or something

Life

Eavesdropping on rocket scientists…

  • by Drew

I overheard a wonderful conversation in the Dollar Store the other day. Two plus-sized women were talking about the safest diet pills that work. I couldn’t help myself, had to get a closer look. It turns out they were browsing the selection of energy booster shots. I looked in their shared cart. Eeeek!

At least a  dozen packages of microwaveable link sausage (I don’t get why they buy that at the Dollar Store when the same size name brand package is 80 cents at Stop and Shop), two flats of big plastic Arizona Iced Tea bottles (I love that stuff, but when I checked the info one time there was like 800 calories in half the bottle – youch!) and a bunch of mini-tubes of bubblegum flavor toothpaste.

Life

My last post about camp…

  • by Drew

Well, maybe. I mean, right now I intend this to be my last moaning about other parents, but who knows? Maybe I’ll come up with something else juicy and interesting. This is another cookout story. While I sat with the boys on the grass, clearly not as special as the folding chair people, there was a small group behind us. About 10 feet behind us. A Mom and two boys. They were sitting at the base of the flagpole on the small concrete pad that supported the flagpole. It was a small space, and I thought possibly a little weird. I don’t know if it is disrespectful to lean against the flagpole while you’re eating a hot dog, but I figured I’d play it safe and hit the grass.

Anyway, I’m sitting there, chatting with my boys and enjoying the baked beans, when a sudden pain flares in the middle of my back. I yelped and whirled around. About 8 feet behind me was a kid twirling around. He had just randomly hurled a rock, and did not even realize he had hit me with it. It was doubly annoying in that you didn’t need a rangefinder GPS to know you were located a literal stone’s throw from dozens of people, and if you were going to launch a golf ball sized rock, point blank, you should probably point it at the woods. Not the crowd.

I barked, “You want to watch it, Buddy?” in a fairly passive aggressive annoyed tone, choking down expletives and the desire to throw a rock back at the clueless brat. The thing that really ticked me off, though, was the Mother. She looked away as I turned and mumbled something about “being careful” to the kid, who’d only realized that he had done something stupid and dangerous after I scolded him. and maybe I’m projecting here, but he actually seemed to have a little bit of that “you’re not my Dad, you can’t discipline me” attitude plastered over his otherwise blank countenance.

She didn’t scold or chastise the kid. She didn’t offer an apology or encourage her child to apologize. She did get up with rock boy and her other kid and attempot to discreetly leave about 45 seconds later. They were right behind me and I was fairly aware of their presence (planning to dodge the next missile that I figured there was at least a 50/50 chance of being flung).

What really irks me about it is that she clearly knew her kid had made a mistake and she was embarrased by it because she chose to take off as soon as she possibly could, when my back was turned. Maybe I should have called her out. Maybe I should have whirled around and said “Hey lady, your kid hit me in the back with a huge rock and it really hiurt. Don’t you think he should apologize?”

Maybe I should have done something like that. I doubt it would have done anything for her. Old dog, new tricks, and all that. But maybe the kid would have felt put on the spot, and maybe he would have learned a lesson.

I love how I end up blaming myself for letting someone else’s kid get away with doing something for which they should be reprimanded. But it is a real problem when adults witness wrongdoings and choose to flee the situation rather than dealing with it.

Life

The cookout

  • by Drew

Last night was the camp cookout. I went with my camper and his little brother. They follow the activities (55 minutes of water slide and 5 minutes of plastic plate juggling for us) withburgers and hot dogs. Then they have a camp fire. The camp fire is a scouting thing, and is cute and fun. The kids group off and do skits, as do the staff. It is pretty enjoyable actually.

But once again, the parents (and their awful parenting) reallyalmost ruin things. Unsupervised kids running around like maniacs is a big drag. Also, the need for some of these people to bring folding chairs and side tables and all sorts of additional nonsense is, to me, somehwhat pointless. You seriously can’t sit on the grass for 10 minutes to eat a grilled burger? These people line their folding chairs up side by side and form ersatz bleacker rows of 10 or 12 people at a clip. It’s a wacky formation, as though they’re watching a giant outdoor move. I mean, you can’t effectively talk to your fellows, barely even the ones at your shoulders. And, of course, the kids run amok behind the line so the parents are blissfully unaware of their children’s mischief.

The most bizarre thing to me is the parking lot. In addition to the unemployed muscle car owner I wrote about, there are all of these massive, high-end SUVs. I just don’t get it. I see these guys who have their “uniform” from work on, so I have a pretty good idea what they do. And eavesdropping on their conversations, I confirm their jobs. I know this makes me sound elitist, but really, does a guy who works at the oil change place need to drive a brand new, fully tricked out Escalade? He should have a bumper sticker that says ‘my other car is a car payment.’

I’m not denying anyone their right to toys. I just don’t get why you would blow 75-95% of your monthly paycheck on a lease payment for a blingmobile. I think millionaire rappers driving Escalades is silly, but this…it’s just a waste.

I don’t know, maybe these guys are scoring with Goldfellow cash for gold and Grandma’s old jewelry. I just think things like health insurance and a college fund for Junior should trump spinning rims and a leather wrapped steering wheel.

PS Blog

Charge it

  • by Drew

Speaking of camp drop off, I need something explained to me. When I went for pickup today, a little kid with his Mom ran over to a Dodge Charger and was drooling over it. It was apparently a brand new model. All I can think of is the silliness of gas guzzling muscle car engines in this day and age, but whatever. The kid likes cars, I’m not going to be a hater.

The thing is, a while later when I was getting back in the car to leave, I saw the owner of the Charger. It was a guy who was there Monday morning making the same old stupid jokes and being tedious and annoying while we were waiting for the lady in charge to finish announcements and cut us loose. This was a guy who was talking to some other parents who were clearly close friends. He mentioned that he was still out of work. In fact, he had been out of work and on unemployment for over a year now.

So can someone explain to me how or why this guy who should be in the market for motorhome insurance is driving around in a brand new, meticulously detailed (recently) muscle car? What is wrong with this picture?

Life

Another camp week

  • by Drew

You have to love dropping the kids off at camp. It’s a wonderful opportunity to hang with fellow Americans. This week at scouting camp, though, there was a surprisingly small number of people in the market for the best weightloss pills. Still, somebody might want to get some of these people a book, because they could surely use some learnin’. I know I sound judgemental, as usual, but some of the nonsense that goes on… it can be trying on the old patience, if you know what I mean.

The thing that was driving me nuts the most on Monday morning was all the coffee cups. At least 2 out of 3 drop off moms had a ginormous cup from Dunkin’ Donuts or Starbucks. I can’t think of a location for either chain within 20 miles of the camp, so I have to ask, how long do they nur

PS Blog

Infernal Inferno!

  • by Drew

And what makes Skateboard Heroes so cool? Well, lots of things. But one of those things is Dr. Inferno, the world’s most diabolical super villain. He’s got spikes on his head and a microchip in his forehead and a claw for a hand. Super awesome, right?

What’s really cool is that his claw has all kinds of attachments. He has a crossbow, a circular saw blade, and he’s working on some sort of sawed off bazooka. What else can he do? Well…chainsaw, yeah. Has to be a chainsaw. But what about pizza cutter or paint roller, maybe something for the beach: metal detectors gold and all. That’s one way for a super villain to spend the weekend, right? Searching for booty in the morning sun, walking barefoot on the sand.

Sheesh, this is starting to sound like his Match.com profile.

© 2026 Drew Bancroft. All rights reserved. Totally.