It's Post Landscape Post Time

Oh my God, I am sore. Not 40's angry mind you, but in physical pain. I spent seven hours yesterday trimming bushes and trees around the compound. I don't know why I'm surprised by the amount of shrubbery that needs grooming, I see it every day, but as with a lot of things, I don't pay much attention until I'm waist deep in evergreen. Every year I promise myself that by next year I will hire a team of hard working professional landscapers to descend on my yard with a truck load of equipment and dispatch my greenery like locusts. Every year my frugal/cheap nature takes over and I trudge to the garage to unwind extension chords and get the electric clippers down from their perch atop the cabinet. This year I pressed "Daughter" into service. The job started a bit rough, with me expecting her to know my thoughts and be able to anticipate my needs. That didn't work out too well. After a quick break, we got in sync (yes, if you're wondering, we did some boy band choreography) and things rolled along. It was time for "Daughter" to experience some back breaking labor. She doesn't like to sweat. I don't know if that's a "girl thing" or not, but she overcame her aversion under the hot sun, watching her old man grunt, sweat and groan. She did show some concern over the many cuts and scratches I suffered in the name of yard beautification. I guess the sight of blood trickling down your father's arms and legs is a bit of a shock for a kid. I used to laugh when I would see landscapers wearing long sleeve t's and long pants during the Summer, but not any more. I had one scare during the operation, (well more than that if you count how many times I thought I would pass out). Somehow the extension chord got caught in the clippers. I know, that's not good. Thankfully, instead of lighting me up and giving "Daughter" the lasting memory of seeing her dad's skeleton illuminated like in a Tom and Jerry cartoon, the breakers that cover the power outside tripped. See, another reason to hire the locusts. I will say, the place does look better, and, being the glutton for punishment that I am, as soon as I finish here, I'm off to cut the grass, putting the finishing touch on my efforts.

I have to cut the grass early because this afternoon, I'm off to the track. I'm not a degenerate gambler (one of my favorite terms) or an expert handicapper, I'm meeting some friends from work for an afternoon of camaraderie and wagering. I've only been to the track twice, once in California where "Wife" and I won a grand total of three bucks and once last year to the beautiful Arlington Park. During that visit, my pals and I never even looked at the track. We just talked and enjoyed some seasonal brews. This time, I plan on finding an overweight older man with a beat up fedora, half smoked cigar and crumpled racing form and pressing him for a tip. Then I'll look for an even more cliched reference and go on with my day. I'm looking forward to my visit and to partaking in the "sport of kings." I dig horses. Well, I 'll amend that to say I dig watching them run, I'm not fond of a random horse head showing up in my bed, which thankfully hasn't happened, since my habit of crossing the Mob has been kept in check.

I'm off. Hey, just like the horses out of the gate. Did you enjoy that symmetry? If you like that kind of crazy humor, you'll love the big shows this weekend on WGN. Wow, I slid that in seamlessly. Friday night/Saturday morning I'll be joined by musician Pete Berwick, talk to our correspondent in London to commemorate the 40th Anniversary of the Beatles crossing Abbey Road, I'll fight my producer and more. Saturday/Sunday I'll have four hours of "Edutainment" to keep you awake all night, with Classic Rock trivia on "The Arcade", gym class nightmares, an update my my wagering, which drivers we should string up by their privates and as always...more. I hope you can join me. Have a great weekend. Later...Brian