Serenity Now

I feel the gravel crunching under my shoes as I exit my car. A cool evening breeze flows through my hair as the sun begins it's decent. I see a group of people in the distance, but can't make out the faces. I scan the lot and see familiar cars around me. From left to right I see a blue Firebird, a black tinted-out Bonneville, a gray Cutlass, a maroon Mustang, a white....what the hell? Can't remember ever seeing this car....someone's stepping out. Who the f*ck is this Chewbacca looking dude? I immediately assume NARC. I have two choices - 1) Rush said NARC and drop him with a punch to the neck. 2) Slowly retrace my steps, hop in my car, and bolt. My heart is racing...am I really going to do this? Before I choose my course of action, I hear someone call out "Hey Rookie". The Chewbacca looking gentleman responds with some sort of indistinguishable moan/grunt. My tension eases, although I remain a little skeptical. I pull a box of Camel Lights from the pocket of my Guess jeans and start my approach. A group a five or six stand circled up. I can faintly hear one gentleman explaining to the rest a story from his past. "Yeah, I kickbox tigers, but I'm even better at hackysack. When I play this with my friends back in California, we normally juggle for a little bit then pass it on......" I lose interest in this lie and head to the picnic table and sit down. Across the stagnant river behind me the lights shine brightly over the baseball diamonds. Next to me is a dead ringer for Fred Savage, but may God have mercy on anyone who mentions this to him. I keep to myself, because he is in the middle of a heated conversation...something to do with lures and/or minnows. I lay back on the table and stare into space and think....

"Will I be here on June 30th, 2007 at 4:00 p.m.?"

Balbach Wedding Update...

Did everybody hear that Darcy has dumped Fill as her date to the wedding? Fill, any backup options?

Z - Baby No More: A Reflection on the Life of our Native American Friend

Michael F. Zehnder is a man known by different names to different people. For example, to this day my father insists on calling him "Z-Man", which I believe stems from the uncanny resemblance between the pigment of Mike's skin to the whites of a zebra. Others know him as Corn, Tornado Z, Savage, and Peekabo Z to name a few. The purpose of this remembrance is not to rehash the many nicknames our Blackfoot friend has acquired over the years. Nor is it to serve as a eulogy when the great spirits of wind and fire decide it is time to reconcile this warrior with his fallen tribe. The purpose of this is to serve as our GREAT AWAKENING. He's damn old...maybe we should cherish the remaining years of his life, but more importantly reflect on our past memories.

I must admit last night was nostalgic. A surprise party at Mike's parents house for his 30th birthday. Great idea....also a gutsy idea, given it's track record. I couldn't help but think about the surprise parties we use to throw him, remarkably at the same location. Last night the surprise being we all got together to celebrate his birth. Every evening during '97-'00 the surprise being that we let ourselves into your house and backyard while you were working (disregarding your instructions about how your weren't having people over), turned on the hot tub and the outdoor radio and prepared everything for you. Strangely, your reaction to all the hard work and effort that went into your surprise last night was a lot different than your reaction to the surprises we put together for you, but no hard feelings.

You're a good man Tonto.

There are still some mysteries surrounding you that I cannot explain.

1. How did you know that CD's were a fad? (NOTE: Cortney, CD's aka compact discs, are circular discs that look like DVDs that were once used to distribute music. CD's predate MP3 players....wikipedia could probably give you a better description of this ancient tool of music delivery.) For years you withstood harsh criticism from Bart and a few others but like your ancestors held your ground and never purchased a CD player (PlayStation notwithstanding)


2. Your 100% guarantee. For those of you playing the Word Association Game at home, if you screamed "REDUNDANT" after reading this, subtract one point from your total score. Those of you that screamed "ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY", add one point for being correct, but then subtract 2 points for using more than one word. Now I personally fought the hell out of this one, but can't remember a time when the "100% guarantee" didn't live up to it's billing.


3. Your extensive, superior knowledge of EVERYTHING. We've all heard the following question posed, "Is it better to know a little about a lot, or a lot about a little?" Somehow you didn't have to struggle with this. Whether it was teaching me how to strengthen my immune system by wiping my food on the floor before popping in my mouth, or giving me your home remedy on how to keep a "clean and sterile shower", your wisdom and helpful opinions shined through vividly on all topics. I especially appreciate the 2 1/2 hour dissertation you gave me on Griffins and their impact on Greek mythology.

Michael....may your gods bless the final years of your life. May your gods shine brightly on your upcoming nuptials. May your gods show their happiness in you by giving you many rat tailed offspring. You are in our thoughts.

Kraut Mit Kartofflen

This site is B.S. I choose to leave Festival '07 in the hands of a trusted few; "the crew" as people will say, and all I here are complaints about how the festivities were under par??
I choose to rejoice in the nuptials of my closest friends, i.e. Shaq and the Deuce this summer and all that the "crew" can think about is themselves and how much little fun they had during Festival!?!?!
I say "NEIN!". Although I cast an enormous shadow...it is time that you step out of it and begin leading the life that I have taught all of you. This seems to be an extremely daunting task, I know, but remember while I am not there in person I am there in spirit and am always available for guidance.
I guess that if I would have realized the outcomes of my attempt at setting the "crew" free of the commissioner's shadow, I may have second guessed my decisions. As they say hindsight is always 20/20. The outcomes that I speak of are...Mikey Z. building a swing set on parade Sunday for his nephew; Bart dancing to Weezer and Green Day while googling "Star Wars T-shirts" in Cali all fest. weekend, and Phil deciding to just NOT GO because there wasn't the excitement around it this year!
Yet there are some people who decided to be leaders during this time of need in Michigan's Little Bavaria. Ryan "Bone-Man" Barber and Chris "I like drinking with Daddy's mom" Graham. These two encompass what it means to be a true Bavarian...to them I say "WILKOMMEN" to the top 5 of the new polls!
#1- Adam "Tax Man, Daddy, Commissioner" Thompson(world-record 624 straight weeks)#2- Tiny Zehnder#3- Gary Rupprecht#4- Ryan Barber#5- Chris Graham
Congrats boys!! See you in a couple of weeks!!

Ann Arbor Pigs...And I'm NOT Talking About Cops!

OK, Hammer...I've made my decision, and I'm in. I can't think of anything topical to Blog about currently, so I'm going to rehash an old "throwback" story.

Cortney, I understand that you were still in elementary school at the time of this story and, no doubt, hitting the younger birthday party circuit pretty hard. You probably don't have much of a recollection of how you broke in the new millenium. If you prefer, you can stop reading now. But, I digress...

Several of us had gathered in Ann Arbor for my late brother's 21st birthday celebration in January of '00 (Barber, you were there...Phil, you were DEFINITELY there). All was going well. While one Balbach stole throaty kisses with Clare, the other Balbach lay in the prone position, a drunken mess. Apparently the EGL came a little too strong for our fallen warrior on this night (for those of you who were not there it was Sara, not Erich who had a little too much to drink. Unfortunately, this also means that it was Erich, not Sarah who was making out with Clare. Not nearly as hot, I know.)

The music was loud, the booze was flowing, and all in attendance were having a great time. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. The impetus to the end of these particular good times would be the sight of our Mexi-Asian friend in the middle of the dancefloor, sucking face with a young, husky University coed (see enhanced, cropped party photo below).

It mattered not to our good friend that the music had stopped and all eyes were fixed on him and his pig - errrrrrr, date. His arms strained as he tried to pull his new catch close, his hands not quite able to lock around her ample rolls. The unbridled passion each felt for the other was marked not only by their groping hands, but also by the offputting sweat stains that had soaked through both of their shirts. "There's only one thing that can make this magical night even better," they both agreed. "Burgers!!! (not the Burgers you and Deuce liked in high school, Daddy) .

And with that, they ordered food enough to feed a small army and retired back to her place...

After putting the troughs away, our amorous duo found themselves alone in bed. Clothed only in fast food wrappers and bathed in bacon grease, the lovers pulled each other tight to share their warmth on a cold winter's night. Bills, sensing his opportunity to pounce slipping away as his latest conquest slipped in and out of a full-bellied sleep, began to let his mitts wander. As he rolled back layer after layer of portly goodness he felt a firm grip around his wrist, which was resting between two husky thighs. Undeterred, our hero straddled his new love-interest and began preparing himself for a move known in these parts as the "South End Special". For you novices, in many other parts it's also called "eating pu**y".

"No, you don't understand!", pleaded his princess. "I haven't shaved down there!".

"It's OK, baby," replied our Knight in Shining Armor, "I kinda like it that way!".

They don't call him the Player for nothin'...

WTF - I'm blogging?

I know what your thinking...."what a sh*tf*g"!

"Why was I directed to this site?"

"Why was I asked to participate?"

"Is Daddy planning on tarping Balbach's nose during the wedding vows?"

"Can I turn this into a drinking game?"

"Where are all the naked people?" (Scott, I'm looking at you)

The answers to these questions/comments with the exception of the last one (hopefully) will present themselves shortly.

Prediction #1 - I will be personally attacked for this. My hope is that this occurs in the form of written/verbal abuse. My fear is that one of us, no need to mention names....we are all friends, will run back what was once dubbed "The Paralytic Chop" on me when I least expect it in the office that we both work at. Chances are the core of my written/verbal abuse will come from this same person.

Listen, I'm going to kick this thing off with our first topic of discussion and see if it takes....

Topic of the day - Does Daddy's Bavarian Festival "no show" constitute a) an indictment on the Festival itself, b) Daddy's coming of age, or c) a downgrade in his endowed status of Commission Chairperson.

It's my belief that by committing this aggregious deed, the only correct answer can be "C". Before everyone starts calling/emailing me, please hear me out. This answer was not an easy one to come by...we all know how much of Thompson's heart and soul he put into festival. You don't need to remind me of that year he made the shirts....in fact I still wear mine weekly. I also need no reminder of the grilled brats and jager parties he threw where he forced his mother to take countless pulls of jagermeister. His passion, his countdown, his choreographed dance with Keller....friends it saddens me to say that this fire has burned out. That much was evident when we learned Daddy would not knock off a measly 15 hour drive (one way) to attend OUR beloved festival. NOTE: Some hermits may make an argument that 15 hours is quite a long trip. To that I respond loudly - A.J. SCHREMS! A.J. Schrems made the trip from Colorado, and I'm pretty sure he hates soft pretzels and doesn't really even like pavilions.

There are some things that are inherently true.....among those are Phil being mexi-asian, Bart being alternative, and Bavarian Festival being the grandest event ever created. The flagpole dance, the crowning of the queen, the parade....not to mention where else could one go and hand someone 3 tickets and in return receive a small plastic cup of beer? Yes friends, this is how I picture heaven. For these reasons I must eliminate option a.

Option B was even more difficult to eliminate, especially with the rumors that have been circulating. You all have heard them.....A.T. doesn't drink anymore, Thomspon isn't with a different chick every night, Daddy isn't #1 on the polls. All of us have heard these things...most of the time from very credible sources. It seems to me that believing this would take a great leap of faith. That's like having someone tell me that the sky is a deep blood red color. I think back to the last time I looked at the sky, remembering it was blue, not deep blood red. I then dig deep into my memory to try to think of a time the sky might have looked remotely red....no luck. Further, I think of the next time I will be looking at the sky (at Balbach's wedding), and I can't imagine it not drinking it's face off, women surrounding it, and holding up it's pointer finger while telling anyone who will listen that it's number one.

The only answer remaining is one that when I started this process I believed I would never come to. I'm sorry Adam Thompson, but I can no longer recognize you in your previous esteemed position.

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