Jun 272016
 

divingplatformWe found ourselves at Fulin’s last night because of a dinnertime power outage at home. As we ate, they were showing competitive diving—possibly Olympics tryouts—on television. Nathan mentioned that the last time he’d been at a pool with a 10M diving platform, they weren’t letting anyone use it. Apparently this is common now; liability concerns.

But when I was 18 years old, they let any schmuck jump off. (Or dive off, I suppose. I never learned to dive.)

Point Mallard‘s not far, but I haven’t been much. Maybe three times ever? One of those trips, just about 27 years ago as I type, I climbed up there and walked off the end of the 10M platform. I didn’t give it a thought. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t peer over the edge and consider it. I walked calmly from the ladder to the end of the platform and just kept walking.

I don’t remember very much about the trip down except for the sound. The sound was scary, and I hadn’t anticipated it. I learned when I got out that I had hit the water feet first, with my legs about a foot apart.

What I do remember quite vividly is sitting down 12 feet underwater, holding my testicles, and crying.

Kids are so stupid.

I’d been kicked in the nuts before. It hurt. I’d jumped my BMX bicycle over a whoopty-doo and racked myself on that horizontal bar when I landed. It hurt. But I’d never felt anything like this. This was next level.

Fortunately, it occurred to me in time that, severe pain or not, I was going to drown if I didn’t get to the surface. I did, and actually had the foresight to move toward one of the edges as I ascended so I wouldn’t have as far to swim.

Through the laughter last night, I think the boys got the point. Even if there aren’t any 10M platforms lurking, there’s a rock of similar height at Smith Lake that could eventually be tempting.

Boys, don’t do it. If you must, keep your legs together.

 Posted by at 7:15 am
Jun 112016
 

For a few months in 2016, every week or two I’m going to have the hottest wings available at a different area restaurant and give you my thoughts.

RTwings1I met Melanie at Ruby Tuesday in southern Madison last week. This is not a usual destination for me, and when I do find myself here I’m usually getting the salad bar. However, a reader requested a review of Ruby Tuesday’s hot wings. I am, of course, happy to oblige.

The wings at Ruby Tuesday are on the appetizer menu and called Fire Wings. They come in both mild and hot. My six drums and three flats were $11.76 before tip. A cup of chunky bleu cheese dressing and four celery sticks accompanied them. Our server Jaylyn was attentive and pleasant.

RTwings2

Quality: 4/10. These wings were cooked effectively and served at an appealing temperature, but there is a significant value problem here. While not comically small like Cricket’s, I have seen many wings twice this size in my #HsvHotWings travels. Having them check in at $1.31 each magnifies the offense.

Flavor: 6/10. These are straight-up buffalo wings, with little butter in the tangy sauce. Black pepper is evident, as well as a little garlic. Call the gustatory experience innocuous. They taste fine.

Heat: 4/10. I was a little surprised to find these even this far up the scale. Chileheads won’t need a drink, but someone who doesn’t like spicy food won’t find these harmless. As I mentioned above, there is a mild option as well.

I’m not sure how much the wing size varies at a megacorp stuff-on-the-wall, but that’s mostly what’s doing these in. These need to be 50% larger or 25% cheaper.

 Posted by at 4:00 pm
May 312016
 

Oh, I loved you so, Windows Phone. I was certain we’d be happy together forever. To be fair, there were minor issues from the start, but we either minimized or worked through them together, as young couples should. However, when we began to have serious problems, I consistently felt more committed to the relationship than […]

 Posted by at 12:07 pm

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