Pickles & Dimes

Maybe I’m a little bored.

I just got done going through our refrigerator, cleaning out and throwing away everything that’s past its expiration date or doesn’t need to be in there. We’re pretty good about keeping up, considering that every two weeks before we go to Cub, we toss anything old. Also, any leftovers (such as the sloppy joes from last night) are always consumed with unmatchable excitement the very next night. No lingering Tupperware in our household.

There is one exception: Shauna’s pop that graces the entire bottom shelf of the fridge. That’s right; stacked two cans tall and six cans deep are twelve cans each of Coke, Sierra Mist, Orange, Lemonade, Root Beer, and a couple of Minute Maid fruity juices. She’s given up Mountain Dew (for the most part) so this is how it gets replaced. With a plethora of flavors, including her other vice, Coke. I will applaud her efforts; she is down from her old 4 Cokes per day to only having a few over the weekend. I should know how hard it is, I kicked my own soda habit five years ago.

This has presented a problem though. We keep a 12-pack of each flavor in our pantry and replace the ones in the fridge as needed. We never gave thought to the ones in the back, considering Shauna still goes through them quickly enough. Or so we thought.

I decided to use my best supermarket knowledge and re-stack all the pop by their freshness date. Now Shauna is drinking two-year-old pop just to get to the good stuff. I’m not kidding, we’ve got cans that expired in April ‘05. That means they were probably purchased in late 2004.

It’s sad. We used to give Shauna’s parents a hard time about the freshness dates on their pop. They had cans with ads for Star Wars on them. You’d think I mean the newer, crappy Star Wars of recent past. Nope; I think I saw Han Solo on a can.

Just kidding, we can’t even make fun of them anymore due to my discovery in our very own refrigerator.

Recently, as Jason and I were getting ready for bed one night, we realized Abby had thrown up. She always springs these disgusting and multiple paper towel-using surprises on us at the most inconvenient times, such as right when we’re drifting off to sleep, or right after we’ve woken up and are stumbling contact-less through the darkened hallways, or right as I’m leaving the house for work.

Her surprises also include the uncanny ability to vomit on carpet. This may not seem like a big deal, but she only pukes upstairs, which is 90% covered in hardwood flooring. But yet she manages every time to sprint over to our very small area rug, where we’ll find piles of cold, regurgitated cat food in colors and textures that defy explanation.

I think these surprises are messages. Messages that say: I may not have opposable thumbs, but by god, I will puke in the most inconvenient place possible just to mess with you. And? That sleep you were hoping for tonight? Well, I just slept for 17 hours and I’m ready to go, baby.

The next morning, after a very sleepless night in which I laid awake on high-alert trying to prevent Abby from catapulting onto the headboard to paw at the window shades, which apparently, can only be pawed at during the NIGHT, I doled out their treats – which Sunny devoured without chewing – and as I laid Abby’s in front of her, she looked up at me and walked away, settling in a different spot. She then looked up at me, looked at the treats, looked back at me again and gave a short meow.

The implication was obvious: Move these treats closer to me.

The treats that were only a foot away.

I complied.

I know – shut up. I only did it because I really need that sleep at night, man.

If you read part one, you know what this is all about. If not, scroll down a couple of posts and catch up.

Let’s get started:

Naked Bob
They’re another Mankato college band. Friends of the family would find their flyers posted around campus and give them to my Dad. His name may or may not be Bob.

Nashville Pussy
There is a chance I bought their CD just because of the name – and the two girls on the cover. One of whom is former Duke basketball “great” Cherokee Parks’ sister.

Neurotic Outsiders
They were the first band made up of the remains of Guns & Roses. Kind of like Velvet Revolver is now. Except the Neurotic Outsiders had members of Duran Duran and the Sex Pistols too.

Pretty Boy Floyd
Late 80s glam band, named after a Chicago gangster who died in the 1930s. They had one CD that people might have heard of when I was in high school. Probably not, though.

Rednex
Everybody knows “Cotton-Eye Joe.” I’d be surprised if anyone knew any of their other songs, including myself.

Rhino Bucket
AC/DC ripoff. A buddy of mine still gives me a hard time about not only buying their tapes in high school, but then buying their CDs once I had the means. Not my best investment.

Saliva
Just because they sold millions doesn’t mean they’re exempt from the list. I can just see the brainstorming meeting to name the band:
Guy #1- “So what bodily fluid can we name the band after?”
Guy #2- “What do you think of ’spit’?”
Guy #1- “I like where your head’s at. How ’bout we class it up a bit and go with ‘Saliva’?”

Scatterbrain
I saw them with Ugly Kid Joe around 1992. They did a cover of Cheech and Chong’s “Earache My Eye.” Really.

Slammin’ Gladys
Poison’s little sisters. Um, brothers, I think.

Sleeze Beez
One of the thousands of faceless bands that followed Motley Crue and G’nR. I even surprised myself to find that I had two of their CDs.

Supersuckers
Not just the suckers, but the Supersuckers.

3 Minute Hero
Now that I think about it, this is my favorite band name. They’re a ska band that did pretty well playing around Minneapolis 8-10 years ago. Turns out that Shauna used to be an RA back in college with one of the guys, which was one of the first things she said to me when I came to work wearing my 3 Minute Hero t-shirt. Quite possibly our first conversation. Update: A reunion! Are you KIDDING me!!

Trampled By Turtles
The band that started the list. They’re a great bluegrass band from Duluth, MN.

When I was about 3 or 4, we had a family gathering at a wonderful little restaurant called the Jolly Troll. I don’t remember much about the Jolly Troll regarding their food or prices, but I do remember the animatronic trolls.

Yes. Animatronic Trolls. Animatronically performing typical troll activities, like forever sawing half-cut logs and building little houses and cobbling tiny shoes. Hardworking trolls making a decent living, unlike their lazy gnome counterparts, who talk in crappy accents while hawking travel sites or stand around all day in people’s gardens chatting up the azaleas.

I loved the trolls. I remember standing mesmerized, right next to the log-sawing troll while my parents tried fruitlessly to return me to my long-cold dinner. Because even at my tender age I realized that the trolls were AWESOME.

The Jolly Troll is long gone, but people still miss it. The Coen brothers even paid homage to it in Fargo (it’s the name of the bar at the beginning of the film). My family likes to kid me about it; whenever I mention the Jolly Troll, they look at me funny and pantomime the sign for “crazy,” pretending that they don’t know what I’m talking about.

But the Jolly Troll did exist – in Golden Valley, Minnesota. And I’m not the only person who wishes it were still around. On the city of Golden Valley’s website, I found a list of initiatives and improvements proposed for the city. Near the bottom of the list was “Bring back the Jolly Troll.”

Yes, Golden Valley. Please bring back the Jolly Troll. Because those trolls are better than that uppity Travelocity spokesgnome any day.