Growing Weed In Madison

In the fall of 1990 my girlfriend Lona and I returned from a 6-month trip to Europe.  We then moved in with her parents in Waukesha, WI until the spring of 1991.  Our savings were running low and we decided to move out on our own.  We had just enough money left for a first month’s rent and deposit and that was about it.  We would have to get jobs immediately wherever we moved to.  I had wanted to return to Minneapolis where we had gone to college and where all our friends were, but Lona wanted to stay in Waukesha where all her family was.  We both had strong arguments for each city.  We had roots in Minneapolis and all of our close friends were there, but Lona’s family were awesome and her parents were not just another set of parents, they were also like my best friends.  In the end we compromised by moving to Madison, WI.  It was a city in-between that neither of us had any ties to.  We would make a fresh start in a new place and get new jobs and make new friends.  It was a little scary, but mostly exciting.

Our first apartment was just that…a one-bedroom apartment in a complex that did not allow cats.  We had a cat named Jo-Jo but we did not let that deter us and we rented the place.  That lasted for a few months until we got busted for having the cat and we had to move.  We decided apartment life was not for us so we rented the bottom half of a house on Center Ave. near Lake Monona.  By this time I had a part-time job working at a telemarketing company doing phone surveys.  We would cold-call people’s houses in the evening trying to get them to take surveys, including Jeffrey Dahmer's house.  It was about a week after he got busted in 1991 and Dahmer’s name/phone# came up on my list one evening on my 4-8 pm shift.  I called, hoping maybe a cop in the apartment would answer, but it just rang and rang with no answer.

I have a lot of stories about my time living in Madison and I have posted a few, but this one is about growing pot.  The house we rented had an average sized basement full of the usual boilers and water heaters and pipes and we stored a lot of our crap down there, including a 1000 watt metal-halide grow light and a 400 watt sodium-pressure grow light.  I used to dabble in growing pot in Minneapolis and so one day I decided I should take up growing pot again.  I did not smoke pot, but it is a fascinating plant and extremely fun to grow as you can manipulate the light cycles and trim it to make it grow into exactly what you want it to…which is a female plant full of sticky buds.  So I rounded up 20 plastic milk jug containers, cut out the tops and planted a seed in each one.  Then I hauled out the powerful lights, hung them from a rafter in the basement and started my grow operation.

After a couple of months of 24-hour/day light and tender-loving care and nurturing, I had twenty nice 2-foot pot plants growing in the basement.  One day though the very kind, very old landlord came a knockin’ and said he needed to get to the water heater in the basement because the upstairs tenants were having problems with their hot water.  Oh boy.  The entrance to the basement was through the back door of our main-floor unit so that is why he was knocking on my door.  I stammered, hedged and hawed for a minute trying to think of a single reasonable explanation of why I could not let him in.  I thought maybe I could forbid him entry because he had not given the customary 24-hour notice…but we had always been on friendly terms and that would just be weird.

So I opened the door and as he was passing me I said:  “Don’t mind all the tomato plants down there, I am just getting them started indoors but will be moving them outdoors soon.”  Maybe an old guy like him would not know the difference between a pot plant and a tomato plant?  I could not bear to go down there with him, so I went out back and hung out awaiting his return.  After about 10 minutes he came back up, announced that he needed to get a part for the hot water heater and would return tomorrow with the part to fix it.  Then he took a big breath, sighed, looked me in the eyes and said:  “Son, those are not tomato plants, and they had all better be out of my basement when I return.”

Crap.  Now what?  I went to my 4-8 pm telemarketing job and told a co-worker about my predicament.  His girlfriend was my supervisor, so he took me into her office for a meeting.  They lived together and he thought it would be cool if I moved the plants in to their apartment, that night.  After some deliberation she relented and it was all set.  After work I went home and loaded all the plants up into my 1987 Toyota Corolla hatchback with the back seat folded down.  I put the grow lights in the front passenger seat, and every single cubic inch of the back of the car was full of plants.  It looked horrible.  It was nighttime but there was no way I could drive the several miles from my house to my manager’s apartment without somebody happening to glance over and see the felony-on-wheels passing by.  I grabbed the sheets off our bed and carefully laid them over and around the inside perimeter of the car, trying not to break any stalks on the precious cargo.  It was a passable job, but there was still a few leaves poking through here and there and it of course reeked like marijuana.  If I happened to pass a cop, or god-forbid got pulled over for anything I would instantly be arrested.

I decided to go for it though and jumped in, staying clear of the main roads and taking residential side streets until I got to the downtown area and had to drive on main roads.  I got to my first stoplight and was nervous as hell.  My head was on a pivot looking anxiously around for cops.  I was still at the light when suddenly a carload of drunk college kids pulled up next to me on my left, hooting and hollering about ‘partying’.  Had they noticed the weed?  I looked over, nodded, smiled and mumbled something like:  “Yeah, alright, party on.”  The kid in the front passenger seat misheard me and shouted to everyone in his car:  “Hey, this guy knows where there’s a party!  Follow him!”  The light turned green and I frantically started shaking my head yelling:  “No!  No!  No party!”  But they did not hear me as they had already slowed so that they could get behind me to follow me to ‘the party’.  F*cking hell, now what?

I did not want to be driving around anymore than I had to, as I just needed to get to my boss’s house as fast as possible.  But I did not want these f*cking drunks following me there and finding out that it was about to become a grow-house.  And I did not want to stop and chat with these guys and have them see the weed in back and maybe jump me and take it.  So I circled back to the residential streets, going left, right, u-turns, hoping these guys would give up and leave me alone.  But no, they were following right behind me and were not going to lose me.  I started getting desperate…sooner or later I was going to run into a cop.  So I decided to be an assh*le and started flipping the car off and yelling at them to f*ck off and leave me alone.  All of a sudden their joy turned to anger when they realized I did not want them following me.  I got just the reaction I hoped for as they roared past me, yelling and swearing at my while the whole carload of them flipped me off.  Phew.  Now I just had to make it the last mile or so to my boss’s place and unload the plants.  I got there without further incident, nervously making it through a few stoplights without running into the drunk guys or the cops.

Unfortunately moving the plants there ended up being a bad idea, as the couple ended up taking all the weed.  Every time I would go over there to manicure or check out the plants, there would be buds missing.  I kept telling them to stop that...wait until they are mature and we can pick them then and I will split it with him.  But they kept taking the buds and not only did I not get any real weed to speak of out of the deal, I ended up getting fired from my job for some stupid reason.  Not the cool couple like I had originally thought.  Live and learn.  So I decided to drastically downsize my grow operation.  I planted just a couple of seeds and put them under the one 400-watt light in the spare bedroom with the windows covered with sheets.  I kept one female plant and grew that to maturity, getting a few nice buds which I gave to a cool local musician.

Madison was a fantastic place to live.  After a couple part time jobs I had finally cut my long hair and scored a real job at WPS Insurance.  This is where I met dozens of friends, many of whom are still close friends today including my best friend Mitch Marshall, as well as Lauren Hatch, Brad and Erin Pronger, Daddy, Bonnie & Clyde Donstad, Sherri and Derrick Goetz, Glenn Kampson, and of course our pain-in-the-ass-but-always-good-for-an-embarrassing-laugh-friend ‘Marshall’.  The house that Lona and I rented was about two blocks from the lake, but more importantly we were two blocks from The Harmony Bar & Grill which would soon turn into my version of ‘Cheers’, where 'everybody knows your name'.  Countless nights were spent in there playing pool and darts while draining pitchers of beer with my friends from work.  Many more blog stories will eventually be written about our adventures in Madison...

AC/DC - 4/9/01 in St. Paul...and Jail in Minneapolis

With the announcement of a new AC/DC album and hopefully tour, I got to thinking about the last time I saw AC/DC.  In early February of 2001 due to my own stupidity I got arrested for DWI.  I quickly retained a well-known shifty lawyer named Jerry Krauss to handle my case, but the whole process was a monumental pain in the ass.  I eventually got it reduced to a reckless driving ticket, but the following illustrates one of the millions of reasons why drinking and driving should never be an option for you.  One of the many things that had to happen to get it all behind me was that I had to officially turn myself into the Hennepin County Jail and spend a night.  My lawyer and I set the date for Monday, April 9th, 2001. 

A few weeks before this dreaded day I was in the car with my girlfriend at the time Karen.  We were listening to 92 KQRS on the radio when they announced that they were giving away a pair of AC/DC tickets to the 20^th caller.  AC/DC is one of my all-time favorite bands so I called in and lo and behold I won!  I had been feeling sick about the whole arrest thing which was constantly weighing heavily on my mind, so when I was told that I had won I said live on the radio:  “Holy sh*t!  You have no idea how much I needed some good news right now!  Thank you!”

 

I was ecstatic until I realized that the concert was on the same night I had to turn myself into lockup for the night.  Dammit!  It might still work though.  My lawyer said that in order to minimize the actual time spent in the horrible place, you just have to present yourself anytime before midnight.  I could show up at 11:59 pm and still get credit for having been there on that day.  The concert was in downtown St. Paul and the jail was in downtown Minneapolis.  It would be close, but I decided I could make it.  I quickly called my best friend Mitch Marshall and he was in.  We had great seats to see one of our favorite bands on the night I had to go to jail.

 

Now we just had to figure out the logistics.  We set the time limit for me to be out of the concert by 11 pm.  That should give me enough time to get from St. Paul to Minneapolis and all checked into jail by midnight.  Our buddy Al Sedaka lives in St. Paul so we enlisted his help.  Mitch would pick me up at my condo in Plymouth and drive us to the concert.  At 11 pm, no matter where AC/DC was in their concert I would leave the show and meet Al out front on the curb.  He would then drive me to jail.  Theoretically I would check in, go to sleep, get up in the morning, go to court with my lawyer, post bail, then leave.  Our buddy Arnie Hagen would then pick me up and bring me home.  If it was early enough I would then go into work on that Tuesday morning.  I would be tired, but happy to be out of jail.  I told my boss I would probably be late and she was fine with that.

 

So Mitch picked me up on the evening of 4/9/01 and we got to the concert in plenty of time for the 8 pm start.  Our tickets were awesome…about 10^th row on the floor, a couple of seats in from the center walkway that the singer Brian Johnson and the guitarist Angus Young would use to run up and down on throughout the concert.  Yes!  The concert blew us away of course…it’s f*cking AC/DC!  In the words of Eddie Van Halen from the first time he saw them back in the 70’s when Van Halen opened up for AC/DC:  “They really only play one song, but it’s a great song.”  Brian’s voice sounded perfect, even on the old Bon Scott songs, and all night schoolboy-Angus ran all over the stage as well as up and down the walkway just a few feet from us.

 

While it was a great concert, I had this whole f*cking JAIL thing hanging over my head all night.  I had no idea what it was going to be like, but I knew it was not going to be pleasant.  I kept checking the time, hoping the concert would end before 11 pm.  Finally the main part of the show ended…time for the encore.  It was 10:45 pm…going to be close.  They broke into ‘T.N.T’, but I had to be outside to meet Al by 11 pm.  For almost every AC/DC concert since the early 80’s, the final song is always ‘For Those About To Rock, We Salute You’.  When they started that next I knew the concert was ending and it was time for me to leave.  I solemnly said goodbye to Mitch and made my way off the floor up to the first level.  I slowly backed up the stairs while watching the song come to a close.  If you know the song you know it ends with a bunch of cannons going off.  “For those about to rock…FIRE! (cannons go off) We salute you!”  And if you have ever seen it in concert you know that a row of cannons appear onstage and they fire off…on cue at first with every yell of: “Fire!”, and then they just go off like crazy one after another to end the concert.  It seemed fitting that my last view of the stage was the cannons being wheeled out onto stage, and the last sounds I heard as I made my way to the exit were the cannons firing while Brian was screaming:  “Fire!  Fire!  Fire!..."  It was almost as if they were saying:  “For those about to go to jail, we salute you!”

 

With Angus’s blistering solos and the cannons still ringing in my ears, I got into the front seat of Al’s car and began the half hour drive to an uncertain fate.  I was a little worried that I had beer on my breathe, but I was sure that the one beer I had many hours ago at the beginning of the concert would not register if they decided to breathalyzer me.  I knocked on the door, they let me in and took all my name and information and then led me to a large gross room full of f*cked-up degenerates.  This is not where I was spending the night was it?!  I took one look in this hell-hole and the guard assured me it is just a holding cell to keep me until they can process me in for the night.  He motioned me inside and then closed the big metal door shut behind me.  Dread.  Horror.  I had just turned 35 a week ago.  Was this really where I was supposed to be in my life?!  I looked around hoping there was a nice quiet corner for me hide in until the guard came back for me.  There was not.  Everyone stared at the new guy and my heart sank as I looked around at the 30 foot by 10 foot main room, with another smaller 8 by 10 foot room attached that served as the bathroom.

 

The main room had a bench that ran the length of one side, but it was covered with drunks, dealers, gangbangers and shady looking characters who looked like they would just as soon shoot me than move over and let me sit down.  Not only was there not really anywhere to sit, but there was hardly any room to stand.  There must have been 50 people crowded into that dirty brick room with grime and snot and what looked like blood and sh*t on the walls.  “Excuse me…excuse me…” I whispered as I made my way through the late-night wretches to the back of the room.  I had to step around one young guy who was rolling around on the floor yelping complete gibberish.  When I got to the other side near the entrance to the ‘bathroom’, I stopped for a bit and looked back at the floor-guy, trying to figure out what his deal was.  A guy next to me noticed my fearful, inquisitive face and he mumbled:  “Don’t worry about him…he’s just tripping on acid.”  I nodded in agreement that he was on something, but I doubted very much that it was acid.  I watched for awhile, but I needed something to lean on.  I couldn’t just stand there for who-knows how long.

 

I was near the opening to the bathroom area.  It was really just a smaller version of the main room, but it instead of a bench on one side it had one urinal and a toilet sticking out of the wall.  No walls, no privacy, just a small open room filled with people as well…the overflow from the main room.  I peered in and noted there was a place to stand by the urinal which was right by the bathroom entrance…near the space between the two rooms.  I made my way over to it and put my right arm on the top of the urinal.  At last, something to lean on.  No place to sit (unless I wanted to join the drugged out guy on the floor or sit on the disgusting toilet) but at least I had my own space to lean.  I decided I would just hang out there, keep my head down and wait for them to call my name.

 

Suddenly I heard a slow, deliberate, menacing voice.  It seemed to be aimed at me.  I looked up and there were three black dudes about 10 feet away staring at me.  One of them slowly repeated:  “I said mother*cker, are you throwing some signs at us?”  My eyes opened wide with shock and fear.  Signs?  What the hell is a sign??  It was then I happened to notice my right hand.  With my right arm resting on the top of the urinal my right hand was just dangling in space.  Were my fingers dangling in such a way that they looked like a sign?  Gang signs or something?  I then remembered a show I had half-watched on cable TV about gangs and how they communicated or identified themselves with signs.  Oh sh*t…was I unwittingly ‘signing’?  Was I telling these guys to f*ck off in sign language or telling them that I was in a rival gang?!  I quickly put my hand down to my side and said the first thing that popped into my head:  “No…no!  I don’t know any signs.  Uh…I know some cool websites though!”  They all stared at me, trying to figure out what my game was.  I had no game.  I was just some stupid white boy stammering hopefully about websites.  After about 20 seconds of silence I think they decided that I was a weirdo and they left me alone.  Phew.

 

After about 15 minutes of standing there I got the courage to put my arm back up on the urinal, this time with my hand in a loose fist…NOT in any way shape or form what I thought might look like a sign.  Guys came and guys left the holding cell, and I just stood there waiting my turn.  Finally after about an hour I heard my name called.  Thank god I whispered.  They took me and three other guys to the booking area where they strip-searched us, exchanged our clothes for orange jail jumpsuits, took our pictures and fingerprinted us.  It was not fun, but at least I was out of the hell-room.  This was progress!  I hoped I would get my own jail cell, catch a few hours of sleep and be on my way in the morning.  The other guys looked nervous and made weak jokes, but they seemed like they had been there before.  One of them was worried about his diabetes medication.  After getting booked they handed us each a pillow and a blanket and led us through a series of hallways until we reached a large dorm room.  Oh no…I was not getting my own cell.  I was going to sleep with about 100 other guys in a big room filled with rows of bunk beds and one toilet sitting at the end of the room.  This toilet was behind a 3-foot wall, so you had the tiniest bit of privacy, but everyone could still see your head.  Thank god I didn’t have to poop.  Now that I think about it, I don’t think I even peed in there.

 

I managed to get a bottom bunk, laid down and pretended to sleep.  It was noisy with guys talking and yelling and rapping all night so there would be no sleep.  Eventually the sun came up and began to shine through the barred windows.  Finally.  Jail is really nothing more than a lot of waiting.  Trying not to get in anyone’s way or be noticed by anyone...and waiting.  Eventually they called my name.  Time for court.  Wearing my orange jumpsuit I already felt ‘guilty’, but to my relief they let me change back into my street clothes on the way to the courtroom.  Cool.  I almost felt like a real person again.  I got in the courtroom and looked around for Jerry.  Not there.  Instead I heard a female call out my name as she walked towards me.  It was Jerry’s assistant, Rachael Goldbloom.  I was a little nervous about that but she said this was no big deal, just a formality and Jerry did not need to be here.  The judge would set the real court date in the future, the bail bondsman that Jerry had sent over would post my bail, and I would be out of there in a little bit.

 

The judge did indeed set a future court date and Rachael left, telling me my bail would be posted shortly.  It wasn’t going to be right away?  Really??  Crap.  They led me back to the booking area, took my clothes away and gave me another orange jumpsuit and took me back to the dorm room.  Was all this really necessary?  I was going to be out in a few minutes.  I started to panic but trusted that it would go down just like Rachael said.  I waited an hour…two hours…three hours.  What the hell was taking so long?!  I finally managed to talk the guard into letting me go make a phone call.  I called Jerry’s office and Rachael answered.  She asked why I was still in jail and I yelled that I was wondering the same thing!  She said to sit tight…she put me on hold…she came back and told me that the bail bondsman had come to the jail that morning but was told that I had already been let out so he left.  No!!  Well get him back I shouted!  She said he was extremely busy but he would try and get back there later that day.  No!  He must come now!  I was really starting to freak out but she said she would get me out as soon as possible.

 

I went to lunch…still nothing.  Back to the room...nothing.  I made small talk with a guy in the next bunk.  We talked for awhile but then he got bailed out and left.  Did they forget about me??  What if I had to stay in there forever?  I was allowed to use the phone again.  I called my boss to let her know I was not going to be in that day.  I called Rachael.  She was not there.  Then it was time for dinner.  I was so sick from worry I could not eat.  My mind raced.  Should I try and escape?  Maybe through a ventilation shaft like in the movies?  They would probably never miss me since I had apparently been forgotten.  Then I thought of the AC/DC song ‘Jailbreak’.  That guy made it out…with a bullet in his back.  I’ll just stay put.  After a couple more hours they moved me to a smaller room with only about 20 guys in it.  Lights out in an hour at 10 pm.  What the f*ck?  Was I going to have to spend another night in here?  I made my bed and laid down as they were making final rounds while turning off the lights.  I wanted to cry.  This was wrong.  Suddenly I heard my name called.  I thought I was dreaming.  I ran to the door tripping over my feet.  What??  I was being bailed out the guard said!  I was trembling with relief.  I could not get out of there fast enough.

 

I got my clothes back and I was never so happy to put on an old set of dirty clothes.  I called Arnie and told him I was finally able to leave.  He came and picked me up on the street corner outside of jail and within 20 minutes I was walking down the hallway to the door of my condo.   It was 24 hours after the AC/DC concert had ended and it had been the longest day of my life.  I was dead tired and immediately fell asleep, happy that another big step in getting through the ordeal was over.  I have not seen AC/DC since then, but I plan on seeing them when they come through on the next tour for their upcoming album - 'Rock Or Bust'.  I am sure it will be a great show and I hope Mitch comes with, but it will never match the surreal feeling I had seeing them in 2001 knowing the concert was only the beginning of my night.  Again…do not drink and drive.

 

AC/DC setlist – 4/9/01
Xcel Center – St. Paul, MN

1. You Shook Me All Night Long
2. Stiff Upper Lip
3. Shot Down In Flames
4. Thunderstruck
5. Hell Ain't A Bad Place To Be
6. Hard As A Rock
7. Shoot To Thrill
8. Rock And Roll Ain't Noise Pollution
9. Safe In New York City
10. Bad Boy Boogie
11. Hells Bells
12. Get It Hot
13. The Jack
14. Back In Black
15. Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
16. Highway To Hell
17. Whole Lotta Rosie
18. Let There Be Rock

Encore:

19. T.N.T.
20. For Those About To Rock (We Salute You)

 AC/DC – ‘Jailbreak’

There was a friend of mine on murder
And the judge's gavel fell
Jury found him guilty
Gave him sixteen years in hell
He said “I ain't spending my life here
I ain't living alone
Ain't breaking no rocks on the chain gang
I'm breakin' out and headin' home”

Gonna make a jailbreak
And I'm lookin' towards the sky
I'm gonna make a jailbreak
Oh, how I wish that I could fly

All in the name of liberty
All in the name of liberty
Got to be free

Jailbreak, let me out of here
Jailbreak, sixteen years
Jailbreak, had more than I can take
Jailbreak, yeah

He said he'd seen his lady being fooled with
By another man
She was down and he was up
He had a gun in his hand
Bullets started flying everywhere
And people started to scream
Big man lying on the ground
With a hole in his body
Where his life had been
But it was -
All in the name of liberty
All in the name of liberty
I got to be free

Jailbreak, jailbreak
I got to break out
Out of here

Heartbeats, they were racin'
Freedom, he was chasin'
Spotlights, sirens, rifles firing
But he made it out…
With a bullet in his back

The Universal Hot vs. Crazy Matrix - A Man's Guide To Women

Well the busy summer is just about over so it is time to check in again.  I recently saw this video on youtube, and although some might find offensive I think it is pretty damn funny and not entirely inaccurate.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vwbKYcBdVyk

(If this link does not work, just go to youtube.com and enter 'Universal Hot Crazy Matrix' into the search and choose the one that is 5:08 long.  You should watch this before you read any further.)

And while at first I thought it was just a hilarious bit, I began to wonder how accurate the chart it.  As the guy says this is not a static environment...women can jump from point to point on the chart on a moment's notice, so to get an accurate reading you have to obtain a cluster of data points and take the average.  So I devised a series of five questions with situations that a woman might find herself in along with four possible answers to each question.  We already know how hot a woman is in our mind on the typical 1-10 scale, so these questions are devised to determine the other axis...the 'Crazy' scale which runs from 4-10 because as the guy said, they are all at least a 4.  I had my wife take the test.  I already know that in my mind she is an 8 hot (9's are models and the only 10's are a few of the Victoria Secret girls).  After evaluating her answers on the test below, she came up with a stunning 4.8 on the crazy scale.  I scored a unicorn!  The four possible answers for each question are lettered 'A' through 'D', but keep in mind her answer can fall in between an A and a B, sort of like a B+ or A-.  Have your wife/girlfriend take the test and see how she sizes up using my 5 research questions:


1)  The first question deals with ‘Jealousy’.  I will provide you with a scenario.  Read all four answers provided and choose the answer accordingly which most closely describes you.  You can also say you are between answers…like ‘between B and C’.

You are walking in the mall with your dude.  Suddenly you hear an excited female voice call out your dude’s name and she comes running over with a big gooey smile on her face.  She is hot.  She is your dude’s ex and she is ignoring you and gushing on with your dude about how it is so great to see him.  Do you:

A)   Smile, reach out your hand and introduce yourself, and then excuse yourself saying you are going to step into the nearby Victoria Secret to do some shopping and let the two of them catch up for a couple minutes, completely secure in the knowledge that he is with YOU now and you have nothing to be jealous about because you would not be with him if you did not trust him.

 

B)   Stand there staring at your dude, waiting for him to recover from the awkwardness of the situation and introduce you to her, then politely listen to her mindless drivel until she gets the hint and moves on.  After she is gone you let it go, knowing that of course he isn’t a virgin and that past girlfriends are bound to pop up now and then.

 

C)   Stand there glaring at the two of them, tapping your toes impatiently, until you finally can’t take it anymore and grab his arm and lead him away from her.  You then spend the next 10 minutes grilling him on who that chick was, and how many more of his past wh*res you are going to have to be subjected to.

 

D)  You punch her in the face, and then him in the face…twice. 

2)  This next question has to do with the concept of levels of ‘Rage’.  Again I will give you a situation and the 4 possible outcomes.  Review carefully and give your answer to the best of your knowledge.

It is a late Saturday afternoon and you just got home from spending a ridiculous amount of money to get your hair/nails/eyebrows/whatever done.  You walk into the living room where your dude is watching NASCAR.  You stand there clearing your throat, waiting for him to notice you.  He doesn’t.  So you say:  “Hi honey, how’s the race going?”  He slowly turns his head to you.  With glazed eyes from 4 ½ hours of NASCAR he says:  “Huh?” and then turns back to the TV.  You:

A)   You remember that men do not care how big your eyebrows are, how you style your hair or what color your nails are painted.  You understand that unless the body part that you had worked on was your boobs, men do not have any interest.  You realize that we love you for you, not for your waxed eyebrows.  So you leave and go paint your toenails.

 

B)   You say:  “Hey!  How do you like my hair?”  Without looking he says:  “You look great honey!”  You mutter:  “Assh*le” under your breath and leave the room.  You then go paint your toenails and your daughter’s toenails.

 

C)   You march in front of the TV so he has to look at you.  When he tries to see around you, you grab the remote, shut off the TV and then throw the remote at him.  He ducks, says:  “WTF?” and you yell at him for 10 minutes about being an insensitive dick.  You run out of the room crying, and then go paint your toenails, your daughter’s toenails, and your son’s toenails.

 

D)  You punch him in the face, twice.  Then while he’s unconscious you paint his toenails.

 

3)  This next question has to do with the concept of ‘time’.  Again I will give you a situation and the 4 possible answers.  Review carefully and give your answer to the best of your knowledge.

It is 7:00 pm.  You are at your house getting ready for a night out with your dude.  The big concert you are seeing at the Xcel Center in St. Paul starts at 7:30 pm.  There is an opening band that he really wants to see, but you do not care about them in the least…in fact you dislike them.  They will play for one hour, from 7:30 pm to 8:30pm.  You are a 30 minutes drive from the arena so every minute you take from here on out is one less minute he gets to see of the opening band.  He has been ready for an hour and is patiently standing by the door, but periodically glancing at his watch and getting more antsy as time moves on.  You on the other hand have just gotten out of the shower.  You plug in your hair dryer and sparks fly out of it rendering it useless.  So you:

A)   Look at the clock and realize that you are going to be late and feel bad about it.  Even though you do not care for the opening band, you know that your dude likes them a lot so you decide that your hair does not matter in this situation.  You realize that he knows what you look like and knows how pretty you are with or without your hair blown or piles of make-up on.  So you quickly run a brush through your hair, throw on your clothes and rush out the door with him at 7:10 pm so he will get to see 50 minutes of the opener.

 

B)   You realize that time is running short, but you still want to look good.  Not taking into account that you are a half-hour drive away you think you have plenty of time to make the opener.  You forget about blow-drying your hair, but you take time to get your make-up on just right and pick out the right clothes and shoes.  You are ready at 7:30 pm, meaning he only gets to see the second half of the opener.

 

C)   You have no idea what time it is and you cannot understand why your dude is just standing by the door.  When the hair dryer fries you get pissed and demand he go to the neighbor’s house and borrow their dryer.  While he is gone, instead of getting dressed or do anything to facilitate you getting out of the door faster, you mix yourself a drink.  When he gets back with a dryer you take your usual sweet time and are finally ready at 8:00 pm, meaning your dude will completely miss the opening band.

 

D)  As always you have no idea what time it is and you do not care.  And why is your dude is just standing by the door?  Moron.  When the hair dryer blows you get pissed and demand he go to the store and buy you a new dryer.  While he is gone, instead of getting dressed or do anything to facilitate you getting out of the door faster, you mix yourself a drink…and then another…and then another.  By the time he gets back you are pretty drunk and do not care about the concert or getting there on time.  Having given up on seeing the opening band, he tries to rush you along so you won’t miss too much of the main act.  This really pisses you off so you get in a big fight and rip up the tickets and throw them in his face, thus ending the ‘night-out’.

 

4)  This next question has to do with drinking.  There are a million scenarios we could have used for this one, but I picked one that I am sure we are all familiar with.  Again I will give you the situation and the 4 possible answers.  Review carefully and give your answer to the best of your knowledge.

It is 7:30 pm on a Friday evening.  You have been at the bar with co-workers for happy-hour since 5:00 pm.  It is a festive crew and everyone is whooping it up, buying rounds of beer, doing shots, and getting drunker by the minute.  The people at the table next to you are even more loud, obnoxious and spilling beer all over the place.  Your boss is there.  A cute co-worker from the other side of the building has been eyeing you all night.  You are supposed to be on a late 9:00 pm date with a new guy you just met.  Your car is in the lot but you would probably blow over the .08 BAL legal limit if tested.  You:

A)   You have been drinking a glass of water between every beer/shot to keep you from drinking even more than you have been, and to eliminate any possibility of a hangover tomorrow.  You are a happy drunk instead of an angry drunk so after telling the loud people next to you a funny joke you politely ask them to move to the empty table over in the corner.  All evening you have been humorous, entertaining, telling good stories, listening attentively when others are telling stories, and buying your share of rounds…all of which impresses your boss.  You have been lightly flirting with the cute co-worker, and you invite him to join your fantasy football league so that you can get his phone# and email address.  You tell everyone you must call it a night, then call a cab to get home and get ready for your date.

 

B)   You started out drinking a couple of waters but now it is just alcohol.  You take a shot of tequila and shout over to the loud table next to you to shut up and quit spilling their damn beer.  You started off funny and entertaining, but have been getting louder and sloppier as the night wears on, knocking a beer over on the table which does not impress your boss.  You run your hands up and down the leg of the cute coworker and give him your phone# with a wink.  After some deliberation, the rest of the crew talks you into taking a cab instead of driving.  So you have one more shot and then take the cab home to get ready for your date.

 

C)   You have been drinking steadily since the moment you got there and are now hammered.  You stumble over to the loud people next to you, pick up one of their beers and dump it all over their table.  Then you come back laughing like it was the funniest thing anyone has ever done.  You order a round of shots and then laughingly tell the waitress to put it on your boss’s tab.  He is not only unimpressed, but getting concerned at your loud boorish behavior.  You knock over two beers, tell a few jokes that go nowhere while laughing loudly at them, and everyone is staring at you.  Your cute coworker excuses himself to go the bathroom so you follow him and try to make out with him at the entrance to the bathroom.  After getting rejected, you return to the table angry, down two more shots that you found on the table, grab your keys and announce that you have somewhere better to be.  Your boss demands that you give him your keys and he calls you a cab.  You get home, pass out, and never hear the door knocking for your date.

 

D)  You have been drinking 2 drinks for every 1 drink that everyone else is having.  You always have to be the drunkest and craziest at every public function that you attend.  You have not paid for a single drink and have knocked over almost as many as you have drank.  People are leaving just to get away from you.  You tell the cute co-worker that you want to f*ck his brains out right there in the bar.  He leaves.  As an angry drunk, you stumble over to the loud table next to you and tip it over sending beer and glass everywhere.  The manager is called and he runs over to kick you out of the bar.  You start screaming and yelling that you are going to sue him.  You tell him his bar sucks and then grab your keys to drive home.  Your boss tries to wrestle the keys away from you, but you vomit all down the front of his shirt.  Feeling renewed, you try to climb behind the bar to poor yourself a fresh drink.  The cops are called and you spend the night in detox, with charges pending.

 

5) The final question has to do with financial savvy.  This time I will give you 4 possible scenarios.  Review carefully and decided which one most closely describes you:

A)   You have a checking account and a savings account both with comfortable balances.  You have never paid a bill late or bounced a check in your life.  You have excellent credit.  You have several credit cards, but you never carry a balance.  You have a stocks & bonds portfolio earning money with your job’s HRA and/or independently.  You get a nice tax refund every year.  You have no problem lending people money, but you hate to owe anyone.  You use coupons when food shopping and try to shop on Wednesdays when it is double-coupon day.  You rarely impulse buy stuff just for the sake of buying it, unless it is something small like a CD.  On large purchases like TV’s or cars you research carefully for the best deal.  In short you are incredibly responsible with money.

 

B)   You have a checking account and a savings account both with something in each.  You sometimes pay bills late and have bounced a few checks.  You have fairly good credit.  You have several credit cards, but you carry a balance on one of them.  You have an HRA at work, but contribute just a small amount.  You break even on taxes every year.  You owe friends money, but they know you are good for it and you will pay them back eventually.  You do not use coupons but you are not against them if you happen to have one.  You love to shop for yourself within your means, but you own way more clothes than any one person needs.  On large purchases like TV’s or cars you do not research, but go with what you want.  In short you are somewhat responsible with money, but can be reckless at times.

 

C)   You have a minimal checking account and no savings account, often living paycheck to paycheck.  You sometimes pay your bills late and are no stranger to bouncing a check.  You have poor credit.  You have two credit cards, but they are maxed out.  You have no HRA or any financial plan for retirement.  You owe back taxes.  You owe all your friends money, to the point that they have stopped helping you out.  You think coupons are a waste of time.  You love to shop for yourself and do so in stores, online, and on the Home Shopping Network.  You judge your boyfriend by how much stuff he buys you.  Large purchases like TV’s or cars always get repossessed for lack of payment.  In short you are irresponsible with money to the point that it is a problem in your life.

 

D)  You have no checking account or savings account or credit cards because no bank will have you due to your abysmal credit score.  You always pay your bills late if at all.  Your poor credit score has a lot to do with the 2 times you have declared bankruptcy.  You just applied for a credit card that has a 28% interest rate, a $400 credit limit, and a $275 filing fee…just so you can get the $125 available credit to go shopping with.  You have zero financial plan for retirement and do not care.  The IRS is after you, and debt collectors are constantly calling you.  You owe everyone money, to the point that you have few friends left.  You hate coupons.  You are a shopping junkie.  You leach off your boyfriends until they wise up and dump you.  Large purchases like TV’s or cars are not an option since you do not have any money.  In short you are the worst with money to the point that you should be in jail and probably will be when the IRS catches up with you.

When you get your 5 answers you need to convert the letters to numbers.  Here is the conversion chart:

A = 4
A-/B+ = 5
B = 6
B-/C+ = 7
C = 8
C-/D+ = 9
D = 10

You then add up total of the five numbers and divide by 5.  That is where your woman falls on the 'Crazy' scale.  As I said my wife Nadia scored an impressive 4.8 so she is an 8/4.8 'Unicorn'.  If she was any less-crazy I might start wondering if she used to be a dude.  When finished with the test, she came up with a question for me however.  I don't what the hell she is trying to get at, but I will show it to you anyways:

I am trying to talk to my husband about something that I think is really important and hoping that he will let me vent and listen to me so that I will feel better about whatever it is.  His response is:

A)   Sits and listens to me until I am done venting and then asks how he can help.

 

B)   Listens for 1 minute and then throws a half-assed solution my way that I obviously already considered with no thought behind it just to shut me up.

 

C)   Pretends to be listening but is actually looking at his phone the whole time and has no idea what I am talking about.

 

D)  Starts playing ‘Smoke On The Water’ on his electric guitar with the amp cranked to ‘10’ to get me out of the room asap.