﻿<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?><rss xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" version="2.0"><channel><ttl>60</ttl><title>BLOG.CROAKERNECK.COM</title><link>http://blog.croakerneck.com</link><lastBuildDate>Sat, 31 Jul 2010 22:54:48 GMT</lastBuildDate><pubDate>Sat, 31 Jul 2010 22:54:48 GMT</pubDate><language>en</language><copyright /><itunes:subtitle> </itunes:subtitle><itunes:author /><itunes:summary /><description /><itunes:owner><itunes:name /><itunes:email>billmorr@mindspring.com</itunes:email></itunes:owner><itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit><itunes:category text="Arts" /><item><title>Subject: Stalking the UPS Man</title><link>http://blog.croakerneck.com/2008/10/24/subject-stalking-the-ups-man.aspx?ref=rss</link><dc:creator>Bill Morris</dc:creator><description>&lt;DIV&gt;This is an email I sent to my daughter 2 weeks before her wedding.&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;FONT face="Times New Roman" size=3&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;FONT face="Times New Roman" size=3&gt;Dear Grace:&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;Well, your wedding dress now has a story to go with it.&amp;nbsp; See, about 10 AM I&amp;nbsp;went to the bedroom and&amp;nbsp;worked out on the bike, then I took a shower. For maybe 5 minutes.&amp;nbsp; Then I walk back to my office and notice a package out on the front porch.&amp;nbsp; Cool, I think.&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;BR&gt;It's the Dress!&amp;nbsp; But it's from FedEx and I've been told it's UPS.&amp;nbsp; And then I see it:&amp;nbsp; the 'We were here and You weren't' notice from UPS stuck on the front door.&amp;nbsp; The only thing I can think of is:&amp;nbsp; I am&amp;nbsp;a Dead Man.&amp;nbsp; So I grab the slip (it's still warm from the driver's fingers)&amp;nbsp; and do what any redblooded half-crazed Bohunk Dad would do.&amp;nbsp; I jump in the car and start driving like a maniac in basically random patterns, stalking the UPS truck.&amp;nbsp; After only about 20 minutes of this I realize that it's crazy.&amp;nbsp; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;So I call the 800 number on the slip.&amp;nbsp; They can't tell me anything, except that they will try to re-deliver it Thursday morning.&amp;nbsp; "But the truck has to be close by," I say.&amp;nbsp; "Just tell me where it is."&amp;nbsp; "We don't have that information."&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;Even a Dead Man has to eat, so I go over to the Kroger store.&amp;nbsp; But&amp;nbsp;once there I realize I probably didn't lock the front door so&amp;nbsp; once again I'm driving like a nut only this time with the shopping cart, going through the store getting half the stuff on the list.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The weird half.&amp;nbsp; Lots of breakfast sausage and paper towels, for some reason.&amp;nbsp; And when I'm walking through the Kroger parking lot I see,&amp;nbsp; out of the corner of my eye:&amp;nbsp; A UPS Truck!&amp;nbsp; So I throw the groceries in the car&amp;nbsp;and drive&amp;nbsp;like Kyle Petty on crack&amp;nbsp;through the maze of&amp;nbsp;parking lots until I see the truck park outside the Sprint store.&amp;nbsp; The driver goes inside.&amp;nbsp; I follow him inside.&amp;nbsp; There he is, talking to the Sprint salesman, who must be his buddy.&amp;nbsp; I explain my situation, probably talking way too fast.&amp;nbsp; When he&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;hears "my daughter's wedding dress" he understands right away that he is talking to a Dead Man.&amp;nbsp; But maybe he can save my life.&amp;nbsp; He says he doesn't deliver in our 'hood, delivers out of a different distribution center entirely, but he makes a call.&amp;nbsp; Then he gives me the unlisted number for the Durham Center dispatcher and tells me to forget where I got it.&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;So then I call and get a woman called Geneva, who doesn't ask me where I got the secret number or anything, just what the address is.&amp;nbsp; And my cell phone number.&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;BR&gt;At 11:55 my cell phone rings.&amp;nbsp; "The driver with your package will be at 3200 Pickett Road at 12 o'clock."&amp;nbsp; That's it, she hangs up.&amp;nbsp;It's like a spy movie. So now I'm flying out of the garage again (leaving the front door unlocked again) and driving 60 miles an hour down Pickett Road.&amp;nbsp; At 3200 there's no sign of a Brown Truck, but again I start driving randomly and see the Brown Truck turn into Durham Academy.&amp;nbsp; I chase him down in their parking lot, coming to a&amp;nbsp; sliding stop in a cloud of dust and flying gravel.&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;"Are you looking for me?" he says, smiling.&amp;nbsp; I tell him: "Geneva says you might have a package for me."&amp;nbsp; "Oh yeah," he says. "Four-eleven."&amp;nbsp; (Our house number)&amp;nbsp;So I sign for it and as I'm stepping out of the truck, now drenched in sweat and happy to be Alive Man again, he says, "Congratulations on your daughter's wedding.&amp;nbsp; I hope everything is great."&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;
&lt;DIV&gt;I am now sitting here looking at the package.&amp;nbsp; When I change rooms, it goes with me.&amp;nbsp; I ain't letting that sucker out of my sight.&lt;/DIV&gt;</description><comments>http://blog.croakerneck.com/2008/10/24/subject-stalking-the-ups-man.aspx#Comments</comments><guid isPermaLink="false">6fff83a5-8676-47ce-9347-0d1e148f57a7</guid><pubDate>Fri, 24 Oct 2008 14:53:00 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>About Our Subhead</title><link>http://blog.croakerneck.com/2008/10/24/about-our-subhead.aspx?ref=rss</link><dc:creator>Bill Morris</dc:creator><description>In case you have not scrolled all the way down to find it:&amp;nbsp; &lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;
&lt;DIV id=contentFooter style="DISPLAY: block"&gt;*In Hammett's "The Golden Horseshoe" the Continental Op contemplates a sign reading Only Genuine Pre-War American and British Whiskeys Sold Here. "I was trying to count how many lies could be found in those nine words and had reached four . . ."&amp;nbsp; When I worked as an ad agency copywriter I had a very large version hanging in my office.&lt;/DIV&gt;</description><comments>http://blog.croakerneck.com/2008/10/24/about-our-subhead.aspx#Comments</comments><guid isPermaLink="false">40b70829-728b-4d47-85e4-fdbc584f6189</guid><pubDate>Fri, 24 Oct 2008 14:45:00 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>What's a US American?</title><link>http://blog.croakerneck.com/2008/10/17/whats-a-us-american.aspx?ref=rss</link><dc:creator>Bill Morris</dc:creator><description>You'll have to ask Miss Teen South Carolina 2007.&amp;nbsp; If you haven't seen it, check her out on YouTube:&lt;BR&gt;&lt;SPAN class=a&gt;&lt;FONT color=#008000 size=2&gt;www.youtube.com/watch?v=lj3iNxZ8Dww&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;</description><comments>http://blog.croakerneck.com/2008/10/17/whats-a-us-american.aspx#Comments</comments><guid isPermaLink="false">126d2653-91d8-48e6-992d-420c4b3a7be1</guid><pubDate>Fri, 17 Oct 2008 17:25:00 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Welcome to Mo's Blog &amp; Grill</title><link>http://blog.croakerneck.com/2008/10/17/welcome-to-mos-blog--grill.aspx?ref=rss</link><dc:creator>Bill Morris</dc:creator><description>We'll be posting here shortly.&amp;nbsp; Come back.</description><comments>http://blog.croakerneck.com/2008/10/17/welcome-to-mos-blog--grill.aspx#Comments</comments><guid isPermaLink="false">839b6c0b-e6d2-4f1d-a215-601a546db50b</guid><pubDate>Fri, 17 Oct 2008 17:16:00 GMT</pubDate></item></channel></rss>