Woody & My IBF

Today being the Preakness, I began to ask myself if jockey shorts actually have anything to do with jockeys, and do boxer shorts have anything to do with boxers? In a nutshell, no and yes. But I did learn some interesting things about mens' undergarments. And congratulations Shakelford even if ex-husband won big and I didn't. Went with Dialed In. I would make some sort of expletive-ridden comment but he's just a horse after all.

First I learned that there are actual Wikipedia entries for all things masculine and supportive, or not.

Jockeys wear breeches. It looks like they cost about $65. So do they wear jockey shorts underneath the breeches? No, they wear pantyhose. Really. I could not find a picture of a jockey in pantyhose, but I have it on good information that this is true. I looked it up on the internet. Depending on who's writing, jockeys wear pantyhose for warmth, or to prevent chafing, or because they are aerodynamic, or to hold it all together if you get what I mean. I don't know what else they wear under those breeches, and that begs the question of kilts. More on that later.

Jockey shorts were invented by the Cooper's Underwear Company after some big executive saw those french guys in the tiny bathing suits. They were introduced in the middle of some blizzard in 1935. The tighty whities were in the window of one of the big department stores (Macy's? Marshall Fields? I can't remember) and the the manager said to get them out of the window and put in the more climatically long johns, but before they could do it, all 600 pairs or something were already sold out. They sold tons and tons and tons after that and, check this out, even had a plane called the Masculiner to deliver orders. Jockeys are called jockeys because they are more or less jock straps lite. Because these drawers were so popular, Cooper's changed the name of the company to Jockey. I am not sure where the name brief came from but I bet it was from the size of said garment. Duh.

Okay, kilts. There a jillion snappy answers to what a Scotsman wears under his kilt, my personal favorite being lipstick if he's lucky. And the bottom line is that he wears nothing. This is supposed to be from a military tradition. Think Brave Heart. Somewhere I read that the guys in the Scottish military (what is that called?) are occasionally required to stand at ease so one of the officers could go by with a mirror on a stick to see if they are properly attired. Don't know if that's true. This is where the term "going commando" is supposed to come from. When my Navy SEAL served in Vietnam, the ladies of the evening would say "UDT, no skivee." If you've watched any of those great TV documentaries about Hell Week, you know that getting wet and sandy requires you to get your whole self wet and sandy. I sure wouldn't want wet sandy undies on when I had to run the next five miles with a boat on my head. And if all those tough guys can get away with no undies, what's the big deal about Britney?

Now, boxers. These really do have something to do with boxers. They were invented by Everlast in 1925. They have elastic all the way around. They had leather belts before then. To hold up their underwear. There are also boxer briefs which have elastic but longer legs. It is said that these were actually shortened long johns, but if there wasn't elastic before boxers, and no briefs either, well, this is getting complicated historically-speaking. Whatever. Wikipedia says that it is traditional for boys to go from briefs to boxers when they are teenagers. I think this is true, but I'm not sold on this completely. When I was in high school, only your dad wore boxers. All the boys wore briefs. My SEAL wears briefs and he's definitely more manly than a teenager. Also, real men wear pink. Not that said SEAL wears pink, but you get the idea. Also, my kid wore boxers as soon as he could say no to the briefs, Ninja Turtles or not.

There is a survey done for National Underwear Day (yes, there is one and it will be on August 5th this year). Cool stuff related to men's unders:

• 80% of Americans wear the same type of underwear for their entire adult lives
• 24% of men have a lucky pair of underwear
• Married men change their underwear twice as often as single men
• You can "buy underwear in your underwear" on freshpair.com
• 10% of men wear boxers

Let's finish up with one of my favorite drinking songs. I think it's Irish. I chose this clip because there basically nothing to look at so you have to pay attention to the lyrics.

My name is Amy and I'm an addict. A Deadliest Catch addict. I am jonesing for some crab. I am stealing from my kid's college account to buy a bigger TV. I am inflicting bodily harm to get to the remote. And I am hijacking this blog for weekly recap. That said, it is Tuesday night, and it is Time Bandit for the show. Yeah, baby.

Uh-oh. Deckhand we saw falling asleep at the wheel on Wizard is actually asleep. His name is Lynn. A boy named Sue. But Lynn is not that tough. Captain Keith tells Lynn that the most important job on the boat is steering it. Captain Keith is very tired but he has to stay in the wheelhouse because the waters are very crowded. There are five boats on the radar. The boat you crash into "is done." And the Wizard is next. Captain Keith is pissed because he has put a lot of time into Lynn. Two weeks on a run unheard of, but crabs are fifty bucks a pop, the most they've ever had. Must have been listening to my dad. Lynn apologizes to Captain Keith for endangering crew and boat. Captain Keith doesn't trust him anymore, but he likes that Lynn wants to be a great crabber. Next time he will be fired on the spot. No Vince Lombardi talk. Skipper Keith is racing the clock to make dock with no dead loss. He does not have many crabs. They seem to be alive on top, but what about the bottom? Dead loss looking terrible. If you get the live ones on top off fast, the almost dead ones underneath on life support might make it. 20,000 pounds of crabs dead. Captain Keith will not stay out 15 days in the future. I note that Captain Sig was right.

Shot of shredding American flag. It is windy on the Time Bandit. Storm is coming. Captain Jonathan needs to get all his crabs out and put the traps back down before that happens. One of those teaser shots where the trap looks empty but comes up full. They are still on the biomass. It took a mountain of pain for Captain Jonathan and his crew to find the crab and they can't lose them now. A black abyss. Gnarly. Hillstrand "yeah baby." A lot of times. Pictures of Time Bandit hitting big waves. I wonder how they get those pictures anyhow. I guess there is another boat full of brave and hairy-chested camera men. Should Captain Jonathan keep on going in storm and keep getting crab or risk the lives of crew? More shots of shredded flag. This is definitely the kind of weather that you get hurt in. Anything can happen. Big wave. Really big wave. Everyone still there? Commercial break. Mike got his ass kicked but he is okay. That is mother nature's way of telling me to sit down. Skipper shuts operation down. Crew goes to bed. It has been dark this whole time. They never tell you that. You need to hope that the crab stays there. Captain Jonathan would rather be lucky than smart. My TV picture is sort of truncated on the bottom left and I can't figure out how to fix it, so I just learned that Captain Jonathan is actually Captain Johnathan. More tension music and hoping for Eureka! Dramatic pot lifting. Lots of crab. Everyone happy. Oh, yeah, baby. Someone holds up a big fucking crab. That one is a dandy, he says. First time I've out-sworn a crabber. Triumphant music. Life is good.

Kodiak deckhand that was squished by pots last week has hurt back. Veteran deckhands are tough, but it looks like he really is hurt. Jake (another Jake!) is a motivator and keeps people laughing. Everyone bummed. Hard to work with fewer guys. Captain Bill going back where he found crab eight days ago. He is positioned to do some real damage. But have 90,000 pounds of steel to deal with and not enough guys. Deck boss a slave driver. This is a hard job what with the knuckle crushing and all. Maybe the hurt guy's name isn't Jake. Maybe it's Nate or Zach or something. I don't know. Sometimes it's hard to hear these guys in the 35 kph (that'd be knots per hour for all you landlubbers) wind. Deckhand offering to pay for anger management classes. Deck boss needs to let up. He has a ponytail and a smart mouth. Captain Bill still wearing groovy shirt with crabs on sleeves. Note to self: get serious about finding groovy crab shirt. Adam gives Captain Bill double fingers. Captain Bill takes Adam off deck. Now only three guys working. Whatever, says Captain Bill.

Not a lot of breaks when you're catching crabs, says Captain Keith for Prilosec.

Cornelia Marie needs better trip. They have sucked so far. Former-addict Jake and part owner of boat calls for different strategy. Josh tells Captain Derrick that they are running out of money and they won't be able to come back for Opies. Captain Derrick wants a few days. Need numbers and need them in the worst way. Dramatic closeup on trap coming up. Empty except for dead halibut. This is not good. It's really bad actually. Everyone hates captain. $2000/day for fuel and food and getting no crab. The boat is not fishing. They can only take it so far. They have spent $170,000 and only had $150,000. Calling her quits on blue crab. Going for red. Hope they make that money up. I think Captain Phil, if he weren't dead, would have been smelling for crab farts, or was it scallop farts? Crew doing the if-you-quit-I'll-quit thing. Something has to happen. Some of the guys are tired of fishing and want to get off when they get to town. Captain Derrick and Josh exchange words and the bottom line is that the skipper is shut down and won't be going for red crab. He also mentioned something about being screwed for blue crab deal, but I'm not sure I remember that thread. Jake quit for blue crab is now quitting for red crab. The fighting is getting worse and worse with everyone bringing up the past. As in Jake's addiction. Big boys don't walk off. I think this is going to be a very dramatic story line. Josh just wants to fuckin' fish. Lots of fuck as an adjective. Captain Phil would have kept it all together.

Captain Junior has it hard because greenhorn quit. He would do anything to save face if he were Josh. They need a 10 average. And nothing. Man oh man, my rockstar is dimming. It is a kick in the bleep. I'm not sure if it was ass or nuts or what but it must have been bad because they bleeped it. Quitter Josh wants to go out and fish but he admits he doesn't have the mental strength. Other guys say it must be nice to kick back and watch movies and stuff but you know what? He's just a sissy. I say harsh, dude. But you're right. Captain Junior says it must be humiliating for him. Deckhands irritated. After town string set (I think town string is what you leave when you go back to drop your crabs off), crew throws his stuff in hold. Let him deal with it down there. He's a dead man walking. A quitter is a quitter and it is obvious that he will be a quitter all his life, they say. Offload blue crab and greenhorn. Going through greenhorns like butter. Other newbie won't quit on them. He's got ambition. We'll see. Load of 50,000 pounds worth $250,000. Phenomenal trip. Quitter not having any more adventures. He can't believe it was so hard.  Say La Beeb says older deckhand. To sea with third new greenhorn. He gets seasick. It's like a broken record. A guy  wants to prove himself. Again.

Northwestern winner of crab count. We didn't see Sig this week. Seabrooke, in second, still a rockstar. What happened to the Ramblin' Rose? They're doing pretty good. I want to see the drama.

Actually excited to get BMW.

• Paper towels
• Slotted spoons
• Pate spreaders
• Garbage bags
• Ice
• Plastic cups

This is our favorite J. Mclaughlin store manager since Susie decided to cut back her days because the horse boarding and showing businesses are doing well. Anyhow, the JMcL stuff has horsey prints on it. I own a bunch.






This is my absolute favorite place to shop. Dubarry has its own tent so is only moderately hellish in terms of air quality. This is Mary. She is in a pan of water to demonstrate that you can wear Dubarry boots in the water. The guy who usually does this is flirting with the Swedish girl.

I bought the jacket with the pink piping. They also had boots to match (a first, I think), so I bought those too. Susie will be purchasing the jacket on the left in my color. I said it would be okay if we matched. You can only do this with your best friend or you will be spending weeks trying to decide who looks better in it and you will not be speaking until July.

Talked to a bunch of car guys. It was fun. I learned about which clubs to join. I must go to the Hagley show. I have been to the Hagley show in the Cadillac. My son was one and ate an entire loaf of french bread. This is John (I think). He told me to talk to Lou.

This is Lou. Lou had the Last Chance Garage. He can fix Woody. He will make a house call. Lou knows lots of stuff about cars. So do Jerrod and Amy. They are from Connecticut but just moved here. She is tall and pretty.



Talked with very, uh, significant member of the community whose goofy name is also the name of a big chemical company. He lives in a very big house that has been in the family for a very long time. His family also lived at HagleyHagley. Note to self: find out when Hagley show is. Guy from Hagley enters conversation. He is quite aggressive and exclusive. Goofy name guy is pretty old. He pulled out his wallet. He cannot find the photo of his family skipjack. He was showing this to me because my family is from where the skipjacks are. A little later, he pulled out a very cool picture. It was of four cars. The one on the left is the 1936 Oldsmobile that we are leaning against. His father gave it to him when he was sixteen. Later on his wife said it stank (I'm not sure if that was literal or socially unacceptable), so he got a convertible VW Beetle. After a while, the headlights weren't good enough so he bought some headlights attached to a Chevelle. When the headlights didn't work anymore he bought a new Olds. That is what he drives now. Four cars in a lifetime. No wonder he is rich. And a heck of a guy. Really. Wonder if his wife is still alive.

Sewanee insulated cup is becoming non-insulated because the two plastic layers are coming apart. I learned this when I spilled half a julep down my shirt. Go back to pickup and booze with Ritz crackers. There are children here. Some of them practice lacrosse and the ball goes everywhere and dad gets his brother to  play with them. This is Rene with her daughter Dahlia. I fell in love with Dahlia. She would stand up for half an hour holding on to your finger. She doesn't crawl yet. She will be one of those kids that drinks from a cup before a bottle. Her mother feeds her with this thing that looks like one of those Capri Sun packages with the attached straw that you get for PeeWee Soccer. You screw a spoon thing on it and squeeze the baby food onto the spoon and put it in the baby's mouth.

This is Lila Rae's twin. She has little britches on and a big bow in her hair that you can't see. I cannot keep my eyes off of Lila Rae's doppleganger. She frolics with a stick horse. They have stick horse races here. They also have Jack Russell terrier races here. I never see them because they are the first even of the day and I am setting up the table and opening the liquor.

This is the local press ladies. One of them took my picture next to the Cadillac some year. It had a snarky caption under it, but that's the way we do things here.




These guys are pretending to watch the races. The woman in the shorts has kind of wobbly legs. I have legs like that. I am 51 and I bet she is too. I wouldn't wear those shorts though. The rubber boots, definitely. Oh, forgot about the dogs. Lots of dogs here. This is the kind of place where people pick up after their dogs at special events. It happens very quickly.

This is John who sold me my parking space. It is late in the day and John looks pretty much like the rest of us. This is Susie and Marjorie. Marjorie is wearing the popular Yuengling accessory. Yuengling is a regional beer that has been here for a very long time. I think the longest of any beer in the country, but I could be wrong.


Decide to place bet on second to last race. Choose Vegetable to show. It is really Veritable, but Vegetable is more fun. Vegetable shows. Which is more than I can say for the rest of us. Pack up. Guy with silver julep cup wants to try Maker's Mark julep. I think he is the guy in the truck next to me every year. Don't remember his name but kiss kiss works. Pull out bourbon bottle from truck and pour a short one. He agrees that this is the best julep ever. He will pay me lots of money to go back to the distillery and buy whatever they have left. Note to self: start concession stand selling bottled juleps. Drive home under the influence. Pretend I am not.

Determined to put everything away by the time I go to sleep. Managed some of it. Susie left boots in truck. Fell asleep on sofa haunted by the thought that I could have found a better BMW.

Got up very early to make very early dentist's appointment. This is because the dentist in is an actual town that is an hour and a half away. Had taken Ambien at 2 a.m. which was a really bad idea because now I am driving under the influence. Realize this when doing 5 mph under the speed limit and everyone knows you need to be going at least 10 miles an hour over the speed limit. Pickups stacked up behind me. Pull into Country School driveway to let pickups pass. BTW, I am also driving my pickup. That is what we drive around here. Get tooth fixed.

Being in an actual town meant that I might be able to find an actual BMW dealer somewhere not too far away. Looked it up on iPhone. I can never see anything on the iPhone because I can't see anyhow and the print is too small. Do you still say print? What are you supposed to call it? Font? I hate that. Anyway, went to dealer in other horsey area. Passed Starbucks with Beer Garden In Rear sign in front of it. Had oatmeal. If you haven't had Starbucks oatmeal you are missing an adequate substitute for nutrition in the face of 1000-calorie muffins or stale donuts at the airport. Found BMW dealer. Remember, I have already technically committed to buying the car in Salem, Oregon. No parking spaces for actual buyers of BMWs. Lady rummaging through trunk of crappy non-BMW as though getting her work stuff. She was. Finally parked half in the driveway. My truck is big. Tough shit. Pissy. Told salesman that they should have actual parking spaces for actual customers. Offered to park my truck for me.

Explained that I want Deep Ocean Blue with Driver Assistance. I do not want a white or black car. I do not want a black interior. Greg goes in dealer database and searches and sorts by just about everything. By Driver Assistance. By Imperial Blue. By Sahara. By whatever that cool green is called. He works very hard. This takes around an hour to do. His manager is very spiffy with a white handkerchief in his breast pocket. He could be a Soprano, but littler. Manager apoligizes for parking space then gives me a bad price on cars. He says he has is driving a Deep Ocean Blue with all the options and he really likes it. Sell me your car, I said. He did not. Greg finds the Deep Ocean Blue with Driver Assistance but it belongs to the dealer that has Justice selling at it. He worked with Justice for two years. Greg cannot get the car because the dealers are too close.

Greg gives me puppy dog close. I wanted to get in the graphite exterior and oyster/black interior because I have never done that and my Oregonian car is those colors. We got in car and I told Greg I know about puppy dog close and stroked the dashboard. He raised his eyebrows. I've been in business awhile, I say. I know that once you hold the puppy, you can't let it go. Decided I like Graphite and Oyster/Black. Learn that the black part is because the oyster won't get dirty if it isn't on the carpet. Makes sense to me. Still want Driver Assistance. Go home and hit internet again: eBay, Carmax, e-CarOne, Craig's List, Autotrader and any google search I can thing of. Two hours pass. Decide to call dealer somewhere else to see if he can get the Deep Sea Blue with Driver Assistance from Justice. Emailed Justice with offer. Justice's manager rejects it.

The best car deals are in Texas so I called BMW of Plano. My guy was very, very nice and looked up whatever I wanted. He says inventory is limited this year because they can get $3,000 more in China. I forgot about Chinese billionaires. You can also get more for BMWs in Europe than here. That explains why I can't find Deep Sea Blue with Driver Assist. Decide that if I didn't know Driver Assist was available, I wouldn't want it. It's like all those catalogs that come in the mail. You must throw them out instantly or you will find something you absolutely, positively must have or you will die. A painful, horrible death. When I get my mail, I turn the pile over so that I don't even see the catalog covers. It's like covering my eyes when I see a male dancer. As an aside, when my kid was about six, the doctor had to check his man parts. As the examination took place, son covered his eyes. See, if you toss the catalogs into recycling before someone checks your parts, the whole thing will be forgotten.

Got back on internet. Get back on phone. Wait, this one is better! No, that one is better! Wire here! Wire there! Wire to Ulan Bator! Still getting emails back from all the dealers I wrote in panic. Can't stand the pressure. Turn off computer. Wire money to Oregon. Glad that is over. Got call that documents will be overnighted. Remembered to tell Caleb to not ask for signature as I will probably be in the garden or somewhere and the delivery guys leave stuff on my kitchen counter unless they need a signature. If they need a signature and my neighbor 5 miles away isn't there, I have to drive an hour and a half to someplace in Delaware near the Amazon distribution center to get it. I usually don't.

Got email with BMW Credit Application which I have to fill out even though I am paying cash. They want my Social Security number. I do not like giving my Social Security number. Broke down and gave Social Security number but wrote disclaimers all over the document saying that they cannot use my Social Security number for anything and cannot call the credit places. Just calling the credit places ruins your credit. Hello, I am paying cash. They have to run it against a terrorist database. I don't know if they are serious. I think they are. This is scary. I am buying a car, not a shoulder-mounted missile. They also want me to sign their privacy  policy. This policy says it is okay for them to give any of the information they get from me to any one they can sell it to, including telemarketers. I think everyone signs this without reading it the way they sign the release form in the hospital which says don't blame them if they kill you or cut off the wrong leg or something. I write all over the policy and initial the cross-outs I made. They didn't seem to mind in Oregon. I bet they'll sell it anyhow. Small Claims Court here I come. Maybe it'll pay for my new car.

eBay sends me message about how they are sending me things like the ones that I looked at before. All cars. Run screaming and tearing out my hair. I will never buy another car. Unless I close my eyes.

You ever go to the blood test place and the waiting room is completely full and there doesn't seem to be any actual blood taking? I do. My blood test place lets you make an appointment. Most people do not make appointments. This really annoys most of the waiters in the waiting room because someone gets to go to the top of the list for no apparent reason. It's like the Universal Studios VIP Tour that you pay a lot of money for so that you can cut in front of the ride lines except you don't have a lariat with a VIP tag on it. The blood test places should let you print out a tag to hang on your lariat so that when you go to the front of the line people aren't as pissed off. People like to know why something happens. It's hard when you need to find out your HIV or paternity test results like yesterday and someone else is cutting line for a vitamin D level.

Today I had an appointment. There are so many people in the waiting room that some people are sitting in the hall which is a mistake because you can't hear when they call your name. When you come in you have to sign in on the clipboard. In about 10 minutes (if you're me) or 40 minutes (if you didn't make an appointment), they call for your paperwork, insurance card and driver's license. I always wondered why they need your driver's license as you don't plan to take the needle for a test drive or anything. Turns out that so many people have lost their jobs and health insurance is so expensive that they need to make sure you are you and not your uninsured cousin Sal who needs that heart transplant. They have you fill out all these forms and have a convenient cup of pens that you can use. Now I don't know about you, but I don't want to touch anything that this entire room of sick people have touched. I use my own pen and lots of Purell. It's bad enough dealing with the coughing lady in the locker room.

My clerk/phlebotomist (the lady who takes your information also takes your blood) had me come back and wait while she got a new box of needles. I asked her if it's always this busy. Yes, but maybe more than usual today because it is raining. It took me a minute to make the connection but people come in because the blood test paperwork is getting crumpled in the bottom of their purse and since they don't know what else to do when it rains, they finally get the blood test done. My girl (I don't think you can ask her name because of HIPAA or something) said that it is just like an assembly line. I bet she was looking forward to lunch. She whispered that she'll probably just hide in her corner. Have a nice day.

I love the word phlebotomist. Sounds like coughing and spitting. A phlebotomist is a new healthcare professional who can lessen the load on doctors and nurses, according to Wikipedia. Anyone wanting to be a phlebotomist must have a GED and be "able to follow simple directions and procedures." They must have a minimum of one day of training. You make about $30,000 a year. This is a lot more than the $13,624 a year flipping burgers. You can get a GED for free. I say we should all be phlebotomists. Then they will have to pay MacDonald's workers $40,000. Economic crisis solved.

This is Mark Sanchez. He is a quarterback. He also lives in California sometimes. This is important because there is a player lockout in the NFL which keeps all those players, well, locked out of the spring's activities including those mini-camps that no one goes to anyhow unless they have to. So all of the sudden spring training (I know, mixing sports, but deal with it) is popular. It's like telling a kid not to do something and all of the sudden it is their favorite thing to do. Mark Sanchez has decided to have a mini-camp of his own. He rents villas in California and has an In-And-Out Burger trailer at his training place. He has catered meals and film sessions. Optional conditioning in the morning and an hour of practice in the afternoon. Then skills sessions which consist of water balloon contests and such. The mini-camp is called Jets West. He pays for all of it. Mark Sanchez has a lot of people attending. I don't know what this means for the Jets. At least the white ones will have a suntan. All the guys will be packing a few extra pounds, though.

This is Eli Manning. He is also a quarterback. He wins a lot more than Mark Sanchez. He has decided to have a mini-camp too. His is serious and consists of two sessions a day. He pays for water. He does not have so many people attending. A couple of them dropped out. The mini-camp is not called anything. The Giants will still be good.









This is Michael Vick. He is a quarterback too. He goes to a fancy personal trainer in New Jersey. So do some of his teammates. Maybe he will throw some passes to the guys at the gym. Michael Vick is the commencement speaker for some group of high schools but his own high school won't rehang his jersey because of the you-know-what incident. Michael Vick cancelled his interview with Oprah. No one cancels an interview with Oprah. Michael Vick was really good with the Eagles for a few games. Then not so much. I guess he thought that the practices are a good idea but he just can't get it together. Sounds like the Eagles in a nutshell. I pray that Team Vick and Team McCoy and Team Maclin and Team Jackson and Team Celek will play on the same team come fall.

Unofficial mini-camp head count:

• Jets, lots
• Giants, a few
• Eagles, none

Unofficial impact of the above:

• nothing

NFL owners laughing their asses off.