There they were.  Quarters.  Dear god do I still love quarters.

When I was a kid, quarters were the first “real” money you could get.  Sure, for a penny you could get a crappy bit of bubble gum from the machines in front of the grocery store.  Nickels were silver, which was cool, but nothing fun ever cost $0.05.  Dimes were smaller than everything else but still had some of the nickel’s stigma.  But quarters… quarters ruled my world as a child. Do you remember the excitement of actually finding a quarter on the ground? Like winning the kid lottery.

The first thing that one notices with quarters are the size.  Even just by feel you know they what they are.  Bigger than everything else (except those fifty cent pieces, but how often did you lug one of those bastards around?) and with those ridges around the outside.  It wasn’t just the quarter itself. It was everything a quarter represented. When you had a quarter you finally had some legitimate buying power.  When I was a kid, buying power was not something one possessed lightly.  Forget a piece of gum. For a quarter you could get a superball!

Obviously to a kid that grew up in the late 70’s and early 80’s, the main draw of quarters was video games.  If you had a quarter, you could play any game you wanted any time you came across one.  I vividly remember going to the old Sea Galley in Boise (where Outback Steakhouse is now) with the family when I was about 10.  In the waiting area they had the tabletop version of Galaga. When you’re a kid, waiting of any kind is akin to Chinese water torture.  Waiting in a room with a functioning arcade game and no quarters might as well have been water torture combined with the pulling out of fingernails and just for fun random shocks via a cattle prod.  Trying to pry a quarter out of Dad to play a video game was like getting a wise man to part with the meaning of life.  Just wasn’t gonna happen.  I just had to sit and suffer and watch some other kid get to play.  If I had just had a quarter on me, everything would have been right with the world.

I contend to this day there is no problem on earth that couldn’t have been fixed by a pocket full of quarters and a flashing, noisy arcade to spend them in. I believe my love of arcades is probably for another post, so I’ll just move on.

Even as I got older, quarters never lost their magic. You needed a pop from a vending machine? Bang.  Two quarters got you there. (This was before they ever had dollar changes on them things).  Needed to make a phone call to Mom to pick you up from the movies? A quarter into the payphone. How about the first time you went to Vegas?  Back then there were no nickel or dime slots, and don’t even ask about penny slots.  Quarters baby.  Nothing will ever match the time I was in The Barbary Coast casino on The Strip and won $90 from a slot machine only to have it all dispensed in quarters. The “clank clank clank clank” sound of quarters falling into the tray must have lasted 5 minutes. 360 of them. If my 12 year old self could have been there for that, he would have probably had a brain aneurysm from the excitement.

Of course nowadays, quarters simply aren’t as important as they used to be.  First off, with inflation nothing that cost a quarter when I was a kid still costs a quarter now.  A paper dollar bill just doesn’t have the same style… the same panache. Arcades are mostly gone except for the seedier places, but you have better games on your living room TV anyway. Payphones? Nope. Even Vegas slot machines use no coins any more.

It kinda makes me sad that my kids will probably never have the attraction to quarters that I once did.

Though personally, I doubt I will ever get old enough to forget how much lifelong joy quarters have brought me.

They knew they wanted to create a legacy.  Something to follow them in this world.  Someone to impart their vast knowledge to.  Thus, the plan to create another being  was implemented.  They tried everything they could think of, but nothing seemed to work.  Apparently, some evil force was onto their plan and had foiled them each step of the way.  It was clear that they needed help even getting their goal off the ground.

That was, until one fateful April day.  Word came in that efforts were indeed successful and their name would continue.  Huzzah!  There was much celebration that day.

Little did they know just what was in store.

Just three weeks later, upon the first viewing of the newly formed being growing in its veritable cocoon, they got the shock of their lives.

“Well, there’s one little fluttering heartbeat…” the technician said to the beaming couple while twisting the scope, “… aaaaaand theres another little fluttering heartbeat!”

It was that exact moment when the full force of the news hit them.  And it hit hard…

…Twins.

Yes, it’s true.  Jess and I are pregnant in a BIG ol’ way.  And yes, the news was quite a shock that probably STILL hasn’t worn off yet.  We first got the news we were pregnant on April 13th.  Followed by the bigger (literally and figuratively) news on May 4th.  Let me get to some specifics you are all going to be interested in:

Due Date: December 21st
They are currently 4cm long and chugging along at an ideal 163 beats per minute. At today’s ultrasound, they were both wiggling around doing what appeared to be either kung-fu or synchronized swimming.  I’m wondering what happens in a couple months when space becomes a premium in there and they are throwing their own version of a steel-cage match on each other or working Jess’s bladder as a speed bag. I guess we’ll see.

They each have their own placenta which is a good thing in a multiple situation.  I suppose they’ll have to learn to share later. We’re 9 weeks away from sexing these little munchkins, but  basic math tells us that there is a 25% chance both boys or both girls and a 50% chance of one of each. Jess is doing excellently.  No morning sickness at all.  Just tired and thirsty.  All systems are go.

And to our Moms… both of you… feel free to spread the word.  We know you have been absolutely chomping at the bit to tell people so now is your chance.  Go crazy.

I saw this a few days ago online and am going to pretend like I made it for our announcement too: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Snp3rHDHwPg Just change those names to Jason and Jessica in your head…

So, let’s make with some excitement people.  Something has to distract us from the mountain of diapers and simultaneous college funds I can’t seem to shake from my head…

I’ve said time and time again that my all time favorite days are those where you can wear shorts and a sweatshirt and be neither too warm nor too cold.  And when the mercury starts to rise into the 60’s, that is good enough for me.  Such days I will also refer to as “Oregon Coast days”.  Luckily, Jess made me buy a new pair of shorts at Costco this past weekend, otherwise I would have had to tear into the storage boxes in order to find some.

Of course, mom wouldn’t approve of today…  See, growing up in our house the standing rule was that it had to be 70 degrees or higher in order to wear shorts.  I’m sure mom thought we would catch pneumonia or something if it wasn’t warm enough.  I vividly remember busting home from school absolutely sure that it was at least 70.  We’d run to the thermometer on the front of the house (no internet or even The Weather Channel back then) and look at that little red line.  Hoping against hope that it was at that 70 notch.  When it was, we’d run get mom so she would verify and then go put on some shorts.  The worst days were when you were certain it was really hot, only to find it was like 65 and mom said no-go.

Ahh, childhood.

Why do I mention this?  Well, this past weekend Jess and I decided it was finally time to get a water softener.  Our water in Meridian is super hard (with dissolved minerals, you sickos).  We’ve wanted to get a water softener since we moved in almost 2 years ago.  Our shower walls are slowly turning orange.  The funny thing is, we put aside most of the cash we got for the wedding in an envelope with the specific purpose of buying a water softener.  It just took us this long to actually pull the trigger.

Well, the time had come and Jess was able to convince me that we could totally install it ourselves.  And by “we”, she meant her dad and I.  So, Saturday morning we headed to Lowe’s full of resolve that it was to be that day.  We had grand plans to crank this mother out and be enjoying our soft water that evening.

Hang on there, Sparky.  As is always my problem with things like this, I don’t know what I don’t know.  I did know that having looked at the plumbing for the softener (that our house was built with) meant that piping was going to have to be cut.  See the above image. I guarantee this fact added at least a solid year to my procrastination.  There was no handy-dandy screw off ends here.  Also, this isn’t PVC pipe either.  It is something called PEX which I’d never heard of. Of course, this requires a special tool we gotta rent.

Having purchased all the crap we’d need and planned our attack we started in.  This PEX clamper-tool-dealy-thingy (which resembles bolt cutters) was a bitch and a half.  Let me tell ya, compressing that bastard took everything I had.  This was compounded by the fact that final rings needed to be compressed behind the water softener.  I’m basically dry humping the water heater trying to get enough leverage and strength to do it.  It very nearly didn’t happen. Not to mention that I could hardly get out of bed the next day with my back, shoulders and arms all jacked up.  When we were “finished” I didn’t have enough strength in my arms to even close the tool. But I digress.

Long story short, we get all of the new piping cut and connected.  It comes time to test for water fastness.  I am happy to report that NONE of the PEX ring seams had a single problem.  That was the good news.  The bad news was that the threaded pieces leading into the softener itself were dripping.  Very slowly, but dripping.  Shit.  Well, we disassemble and unscrew them… re-teflon-tape them and reassemble.  Same thing.  We tried tightening.  We tried more teflon.  We tightened some more.  No dice.  It was at this point where we were out of ideas.

Fortunately, we still had usable water (thanks to my massive PEXing) so we didn’t have to spend the weekend like backpackers in the wilderness or anything.  However, the bucket under the tubing told a different story.  Honestly, I’m just glad that at this point I didn’t have water cascading around the garage looking like Old Faithful.

This is what always seems to happen to me.  Every project I do I can get 80% of the way done.  Then comes some curve ball and I’m basically dead in the water (no pun intended).  Something on my end is always different from the instructions.  When that happens, I don’t have the knowledge necessary to adapt the plan and continue.  Usually at that point I get frustrated that I shot an entire Saturday on the project and am just going to have to call someone in anyway.  F-bombs and flying tools usually commence.

This morning, the good people from A-1 Plumbing came out.  The guy was really nice.  He even complimented me on my PEX seals.  He told me about a guy who tried this a few weeks ago and every single one of his PEX joints was leaking.  At least I got that going for me.  Anyway, a couple hours and 300 bucks later we are up and running.  Not to mention that there were a couple pieces that he did and I didn’t even know about which could have cause us MUCHO problems in the future.

I guess I’m just not enough of a “manly” man to know this stuff. It is time to admit to myself that I really don’t know what I’m doing.  I suppose I wouldn’t expect a plumber to build me a website either.  There is a reason these people exist.  Just bite the bullet, pay the money and have it done right.

Thus endeth the lesson…

So, we rounded up the parents (both sets wanted to go) and headed down there Saturday morning.  I’m no expert on what all they did during the construction, but I do know that they added two wings that are underground with skylights which were pretty cool.  They did an amazing job matching up all of the marble as well.  Go to the idahostatesman.com for more on that front.

I mainly just wanted to take photos, so that’s what I did.  Here are my favorites.  You can also go to the entire Flickr.com set to view more than what is here.  Also, I would like to add that you really should click on each image to view it larger.  Some of them really benefit from being viewed bigger.  Thanks and enjoy!

This is the first picture I took that day.  Might be my favorite…

Two cheapo flags, held by me. Just playing around.

The National Anthem… I wish I could have gotten a little closer to the 2 servicemen, with everything in the background.  But I still like this shot.

Straight up through the dome.  This almost looks like something out of 2001 A Space Odyssey or something.

Zoomed on the dome a bit more… removing the lights gave a much “cooler” blue feel.

Visitors gazing up to the dome.

There you go, hope you enjoyed.  Like I said, there are more images in the Flickr set.  Go there now.

As a side photography note, I have a bunch of really good photos from the Christmas holiday that I have yet to share.  I know Christmas feels like a couple months ago at this point, but hopefully I’ll post them soon.

In fact, in years past I have written blog posts about my favorite Christmas songs as well as my not so favorites.

That being said, there is one song in particular that amuses me,  “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas”.  You all know that song and have heard it a million times from a thousand different artists.  But, what amuses me about it is a couple lines in the song:

Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore.
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more.

Nice sentiment right?  Christmas is a time to reflect back to the good old days.  It is also a time for friends and family to come together and enjoy each other again.  I’m sure this is just as true in your family as it is in mine.

However, if you listen to many of the versions out there, the artist mistakenly (or otherwise) swaps two of those lines which completely changes the meaning of the tune:

Faithful friends who are near to us
Will be dear to us once more.

It’s a subtle swap that you probably never thought about, but basically turns from expressing the joy of having far-flung loved ones around for the holidays to the following…

“You know, you scumbags are around all the friggin time…  You rotten son-a-bitches really piss me off the rest of the year, however it is Christmas time, so I guess you’ll be dear to me again… But I swear to God, come January you people are all back on the shitlist!”

Can you see why that amuses me so?

Merry Christmas everyone!

It occurred to me, that at 35 you are half of 70.  Granted life expectancy now is mid to late 70’s, but if you kick at 70, nobody looks a that as a great tragedy.  Whoa.  That is a sobering thought.

With such a birthday coming, I’ve been thinking about aging.  Stages of life, if you will.  Of course, we have the epic speech by Billy Crystal in City Slickers.  But I think I can expand on it a little bit. (In the spirit of full disclosure, I don’t personally know the older ranges… I’m educated guessing)

Age 0
You’re born.  You obviously don’t remember this, and probably for good reason.  Ye olde play-doh fun factory of life would probably not be something you want to look fondly back on.  You are the center of attention, even if you don’t know it.

Age 1-2
You start to figure things out.  The walking. The talking. “NO”.  You know… The essentials.  You may have some friends you recognize from day care.  The most important toy is always the one the other kid has.

Age 3-5
The last years before you enter the forced hierarchical structure that is school.  This is a golden time.  Your parents are the smartest people on the planet. I remember very well hanging out with Mom all day.  She worked from home sewing, so I would crawl around in the closet full of fabric and listen to daytime TV.  Occasionally make a run to the bank or grocery store.  All I knew was that my older sister wasn’t around and didn’t get to do any of this fun stuff.

Age 6-12
Now you’re in school.  You have a ready made gauge for ranking everyone.  When you’re in first grade, all you know is everything is new and you’re the youngest in the school (except for those wimpy kindergartners but they don’t even go to school all day).  Once you jump to 2nd grade, you realize what all the fuss is about.  You instantly know, you are not the youngest, and thus, the most lame.  Everyone older than you is cooler, everyone younger is not.  That is just the way it is. School is the dominating force in your life.  You spend the most time there.  The year feels SO long.  It might as well be 5 years between Christmases.

Age 12-15
This is when you start to hear about other kids your age doing amazing things.  Like a 14 year old gold medal winning gymnast. This is the first time you realize, “wow… I could have been there had I worked for it? When did I miss that boat?”  Also, you are getting into the real formative years in school… junior high and the start of high school.  You start to become more aware about your personal standing, fitting in with friends, figuring out your social strata.  This is where “keeping up with the Jones’” can be developed. Your parents may be the dumbest people on the planet.

Age 15-18
High school.  Hormones.  This is the first time in your life you actually start to think about the future.  You have to start making plans and you realize that before long the security of just knowing you have years of school left is going away.  You actually have to start figuring things out again.  Of course, this can be put off by saying , “I’m just going to college”, but that still requires some advanced planning.

This is also when you first jump into the workforce.  Sure, maybe you babysat or mowed lawns as a kid, but this is your first real job.  Complete with schedules and responsibilities.  You were eager to get that job at Burger King because you were excited to have some extra spending money in your pocket.  What you didn’t realize was that you were actually starting a 50 year process of always having a job.  Looking back, you might have postponed that job a little longer… all things being equal.

Age 18-22
In college or “the real world”, first tastes of freedom.  You move out of your parents house and figure out living on your own.  You stay up until 3am and nobody cares.  You see lots of people your age doing amazing things.  College sports stars.  Tech start-ups.  Hollywood actors. You still wonder when you missed that boat.  First time you make major life decisions.  Pick a major.  Start heading in an actual “direction”.  You also see friends doing things you didn’t expect.  Graduating early.  Traveling the world.  Getting married. Having kids.  Seeing others do these things helps you solidify what you think and want in life.  You swear to yourself that you are ALWAYS going to be “cool”.

Age 23-28
Your immortal years.  You can do anything.  You can party on a Tuesday, and do.  You start to get jobs that mean a little more than you previous ones.  You stop seeing those friends who had kids.  Others are getting married.  Some move away.  You realize with dread that your 10 year high school reunion is coming up.  Where the hell did the time go?

Age 28-33
You move up in your job.  Start to make a little real money.  Start to settle down a little bit.  You may only really party on weekends.  Buy your first house, which takes all of your time in upkeep.  A lot of friends are getting married (perhaps you included). Start to see some friends getting divorced.  It dawns on you, you’re no longer in your 20’s.  You hear about pro athletes having to retire because they are so “old” and can’t perform any more.  This scares the hell out of you.  When you were a kid and Joe Montana retired, you thought he must have been like 50, right??  Getting carded to buy alcohol is a pain.

Age 33-39
Time moves even faster.  The years just swing by without ever stopping to say hello.  You realize that what the teenagers are into is bizarre and does not interest you any more.  Your kids start school.  You go on real vacations to Hawaii or Europe.  Friends get re-married.  You realize that it is quite possible you have lived more years than you have remaining.  This REALLY scares you.  (which may prompt a sports car purchase).  You have every responsibility in the world, but you deal.  You know people your own age with kids in high school.  Someone you know becomes a grandparent.  First gray hairs. Your 20 year high school reunion sneaks up on you and scares the hell out of you.  Getting carded to buy alcohol is a compliment.

Age 40-50
Your kids grow up and can now whip you in basketball in the driveway.  Your prime money earning years.  You seriously begin thinking about retirement.  The body starts to break down.  You have aches and pains in places that never hurt before.  Could be the first time when someone asks your your age, you actually have to stop and think for a second.

Age 50-60
For the first time, you are older than the President of the United States.  Still wonder when you missed that boat. Your kids start having families.  Holidays become a planning nightmare.  Winding down your career.  You have friends who have retired early and love it.  You have other friends who shuffle off the mortal coil.  You sell the sports car, and spend 10 minutes every morning taking your 6 prescriptions.  You can start taking advantage of “senior discounts”. You start getting AARP mailings.  This scares the hell out of you.

Age 60-70
You’re happy you made it this far.  The most important thing about having birthdays is that they keep coming.  You read the obituaries every day, looking for people you know. You hopefully settle into old age and just enjoy life.  You’ve seen everything and done everything so nothing else scares the hell out of you… except that strange looking mole.

Age 80+
These are the gravy years.  You beat the average life expectancy. Great grandchildren. Still happy to see more birthdays. You leave dishes of strange candy around your house.

So there ya go… Jason’s stages of life.  Make of that what you will.

And, Happy Birthday today, Mom.  Love you!

The latest abomination was foisted upon the unsuspecting public this previous weekend.  They shipped out with Sunday’s paper an insert… Their college football preview piece.  Needless to say, this city is pretty jacked up about the rapidly approaching Boise State game vs the vaunted Ducks of Oregon down on the Blue.  Obviously, there has been a lot of hype for this game during this past 8 months.  Appropriately, they titled their guide “Hype”.

Now, I’m not critiqueing their content.  It was good enough apart from some exceptionally lame “overrated” pieces on each page, (really?  Bashing Twitter is not fresh) but I digress.  No, I have a problem… wait, check that… I have NUMEROUS problems with the image they created for their cover.

For the record, I am NOT a designer.  I think I have a marginal eye for design, but the designers I work with make me realize I have exactly ZERO skill compared to them.  Wirestone has some of the best designers I have ever seen in their employ.  Obviously, the Statesman does not.

Warning, the following image is so horrible, it could scar you for life.

(click the image to grab a larger, closer view of this steaming pile)

Let’s break this down:

Numbers 1, 2 & 3:   Look at those images… apparently the person who put this together doesn’t have a clue about “aspect ratio”.  You know, when an image is either squished (#1) or stretched (2&3) to the point it just looks really really bad?  Yeah, that’s what they did.  I could almost forgive #1, if it was the only one on the page.  A stylistic choice, one could say.  However, when you have a couple others on there, that “style” goes right out the window.  Really, all you have to do is use the images in their correct aspect ratio, make them larger or smaller, or re-arrange your collage.  Seriously, that is extraordinarily rudimentary.

Number 4:   So they use a shot of the stadium as their “background”.  Ok, I get that.  Unfortunately, that image they used is completely out of focus.  It is blurry and looks like crap.  If I were to hazard a guess, the same meathead who stretched those first images, also used an image that was too small to fit in the space.  “Well, no matter, I can just re-size it in Photoshop and make it bigger!”  Not so fast there, Cochise.  What happens when we enlarge something too big?  That’s right, the whole image looks fuzzy, out of focus and generally like crap.  Yeah, let’s put that in the very middle.

Number 5:   Random shot of the crowd, hovering over the grandstands in the background.  What the hell is this? It doesn’t make any sense, visually.  I honestly don’t understand why they are trying to do here.  Those fans don’t match anything else in the picture, they are just floating there, but you can still see the Stueckle Sky Box from the blurry background pic behind them.  Totally bizarre.

Number 6:    I don’t even know what the hell that is supposed to be.  Why they decided to stick some black and white photo  of something completely indistinguishable (which may or may not also have some aspect ratio problems as well) in there I will never know.

Number 7:    Yes, we are playing Oregon.  However, this logo stopped being their “official” logo in 1993.  You mean to tell me we couldn’t use something more current for them?  Why not?

Number 8:
Photoshop guy:  Here is my “hype” image, sir.
Manager:   It’s good, but it doesn’t convey “big” enough.  What do they do for the Super Bowl… I know, blimps!
Photoshop guy:  But… sir, the Goodyear Blimp has never been to a BSU game, and I’m pretty sure they won’t be there on Thursday…
Manager:  No matter, just slap in a picture of the blimp at the top… people will get it.
Photoshop guy:  Can do!

And, just make sure that its perspective doesn’t match anything else in the image as well… He forgot to mention that one.

Number 9:   Take a good look at that.  Notice anything off?  No?  Look closer.  Specifically, look at the number on Julian Hawkins’ (82) back.  Whoops… someone forgot to flip that number when they flipped the shoulder number.  I also suspect there is some problems with #99 Reveles as well, but whatever.  I won’t even get into why those giant players are running in a cloud to a tiny field.  I’ve long since stopped trying to figure out the logic of this.

There ya go.  When I first glanced at it, I was annoyed but couldn’t figure out why.  Once I sat down and really looked at it, I realized just how bad this was.  I would expect something like this from a junior high student just figuring out how to slap images together in Photoshop.  Not something a professional organization would produce.

The thing is, I know the Statesman has talented people (Brian Murphy aside).  They have some of the best photography I have ever seen.   Their collection of Boise State photography has got to be massive.  Yet with all those resourses, THIS is what they come up with?

Seriously… you’re a metropolitan newspaper.  You have to do better than this.

Whew, I feel better now.

Anyway, I scored my own fireworks show, you know, were I to have one.  This is what my fireworks show would sound like.  I’m sure you can picture the brightly colored explosions perfectly timed to the following tunes.

http://song.ly/g4s7 U.S. Merchant Marine Band – Semper Fidelis

http://song.ly/g4sl John Philip Sousa – Stars and Stripes Forever

http://song.ly/g4t9 Williams, John – Theme From Superman

http://song.ly/g4tp Boston Pops – Indiana Jones Theme

http://song.ly/g4uf John Philip Sousa – Battle Hymn of the Republic

http://song.ly/g4vk Aaron Copeland – Hoe Down

http://song.ly/g4v0 George C. Scott as Patton – Patton Speech (I would play this as voice over a few of the songs)

http://song.ly/g4wq Aaron Copeland – Fanfare for the Common Man

http://song.ly/g4xl Back To The Future theme

http://song.ly/g506 Top Gun – Theme

http://song.ly/g50z Band of the Fighting Irish – Notre Dame Victory March

http://song.ly/g51z Chet Atkins, Roy Clark – Dueling Banjos

http://song.ly/g52s James Brown – Living in America

Grand Finale: http://song.ly/g53f Neil Diamond – Coming To America

Yes, the requisite fireworks show would have cost millions of dollars (at least the one I had in my head would) so, the best I can do is the music.

Happy Independence Day folks.  I love this country.

So, I’m working from home today.  I spent the last night coughing and nearly choking to death on phlegm to the point that I “slept” in the other bedroom so that I wouldn’t keep Jess up all night.  Upon arising  and hacking up a loogie the size of New Jersey, I decided that instead of subject my fellow coworkers to my respiratory issues, I would just log in and work from home.

Anyway, lunch time rolled around.  Jess reminded me that if I’m sick, I really should eat something.  I headed to the kitchen to see what I could find.  Ahh-ha… I know, I’ll have a nice big peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  Haven’t had one of those in a while, that should hit the spot.  What else can I have?  Yes… good… we have a box of individual size bags of Sunchips that we got from Costco specifically for lunches.  Perfect.  Throw in a Pepsi and you have a pretty solid lunch.

I set about chowing down my sandwich (on 8 grain bread, I might add).  Trustworthy PB&J will never let you down.  If it wasn’t for those things I probably would have starved to death in childhood.  Also, I’m a bit of a strange eater when it comes to lunch.  More often than not, I don’t mix foods together.  I eat one thing, finish it, move onto the next.  Don’t ask me why, I just do.  If it’s a burger and fries, the fries go first, then the burger.  But, if its a sandwich and chips, the sandwich goes first.  I know, I’m weird.

Sandwich done, I open the bag of Sunchips to finish off my lunch.  I’m happily munching away while I work, as I’ve done hundreds of times before.

Let me preface this next part for those that might be squeemish… proceed with caution.

As setting, let me state that my office is fairly dim.  I don’t have the overhead lights on, and the shaded window has drapes on it. Really, the only light is from my monitor and a bit from the hallway, which is plenty.

As I was about 3/4 of my way through the bag of Harvest Cheddar chips, I began to ponder what those dark spots were on the chips.  I had noticed them upon starting, but in the dim light they appeared to just be another “grain” in the chips or perhaps larger clumps of seasoning.  Ummm… no… I’m not that lucky.

After piecing together my more recent history with Sunchips, I was fairly certain that Harvest Cheddar chips really didn’t look like that normally. Something was amiss.   That is when I looked a little closer, and came to a horrible HORRIBLE realization.

That’s not seasoning.

Again, squeemish people move on now.

They were ants.  Dead ants, specifically.  All curled up on themselves like dead ants do.  The bottom of the bag was FULL of them.

For the record, I chugged the rest of my Pepsi in about 2.4 seconds.  I can’t say I totally felt the urge to puke, but it did cross my mind.

Now I specifically remember eating one chip that had 20 or so specks on it.  Thinking nothing of it, I popped in and chewed away happily.  Hindsight being 20/20 and all, I think it did taste a bit… off…

I think the worst part now is that I still have bits of the chips stuck in my teeth.  Which, of course, means I’ve got bits of masticated dead ant in my teeth as well.

Ok… that thought is making me want to puke.  I’m off to brush and rinse with Listerine about 24 times.

Of course, I couldn’t NOT post a picture…

All told, I think I’m off Sunchips for awhile.  Oh, and Frito Lay?  Prepare to get a piece of my mind.