"And, Thank You For R07 Engines . . . "

Booggity, booggity, booggity.

Another Hare-Brained Idea!

"The Hampton."

Or, as it is now known, "The Mr. Miller."

Whatever name you use when ordering this sandwich, the fixings are the same: Turkey, avocado, Swiss cheese, mayo, and a mess of other good stuff. The duality of the name is due to yet another one of my hare-brained ideas that I concocted as I was trying with all of my might to come up with an outstanding gift for an outstanding man.

And, now, the backstory (and, of course, there is always a backstory with me): As is the yearly tradition in our church congregation, the graduating high school seniors were to be recognized at a special event, and as part of that event, each senior was asked to identify a teacher, mentor, coach, or friend who had greatly influenced his or her life in a significant way. Christian chose to honor his band director from American Fork High School, Mr. Miller. (He was going to choose me, but that just screamed nepotismmmmmm, and that's just going too far into that Aaron Spelling/Tori Spelling territory. I mean, have you seen her acting on Beverly Hills 90210? Me thinks nepotism was raging in that particular casting choice.) But, anywho!

We wanted to show our appreciation to Mr. Miller for all that he has done for Christian (and Sean too, back in the day) by giving him some small gift. But what? Mr. Miller's office reigns supreme as a rip roarin', true-blue tchotchke catchall with hundreds and hundreds of little knick knacks collecting dust which Mr. Miller has accumulated over a long, storied career. Another little stuffed bear wearing the school colors was exactly what he did NOT need cluttering up the joint. Hmmm. What to give, I wonder? Ponder, ponder, think, think . . . .

That's when I struck gold with yet another hare-brained idea! (Now, we do the "Dawnce of Joy!" C'mon everybody, join in!) I knew that Mr. Miller was somewhat infatuated with the sandwiches at Gandolfo's New York Deli, it being reported that he lunches there at least three times a week. Say wha . . . ? Yes, apparently so. My little hare-brain said to me, "Hey! Let's get Mr. Miller a very generous gift card to Gandolfo's!" Then, my little hare-brain said to me, "Meh. That's so ordinary. We need something extraordinary." And, that's when my little hare-brain started sending smoke signals out of my ears with the brilliant idea that we force suggest to Gandolfo's that they name Mr. Miller's favorite sandwich after him. Brilliant, yes?!

I marched my hare-brained self into the shop, talked a blue streak about what Mr. Miller means to our family, what he means to the community, had a nice tet-a-tet with the owner who knew exactly what Mr. Miller's favorite sandwich is (including his request for extra avacado), and voila'! "The Mr. Miller Sandwich" is not only on the menu board, but Gandolfo's is donating a portion of each sale of "The Mr. Miller Sandwich" toward the American Fork Marching Band's expenses when they go to the Rose Parade in 2012.

When, on the evening of the senior recognition program, Christian presented Mr. Miller with the news that his name would be uttered by lots and lots of perfect strangers as they ordered his favorite sandwich at Gandolfo's, Mr. Miller was all aflutter, if you want to know the truth. He also appreciated the Gandolfo's gift card, btw. (Yes. Yes, we did go down that tried and true road of giving a gift card besides doing the whole naming thing, but, believe me, Mr. Miller wasn't going to turn up his nose at that, you know.) You may now cue the heavenly choir: LAAAAAAAAA! Praise be that that particular worry is over. These things weigh heavily on my hare-brain, dontcha know.

I took the liberty of making even more of a nuisance of myself by contacting the press. Read all about it! Read all about it! (See article below.) (And, unless you have some seriously wicked eyes capable of magnification, you might want to view the article here.) You'll need to scan waaaaaaaaay down to the very end of the piece (please do) to get to the very best and most riveting part of the story . . . if you don't mind me sayin' so.

Nope. No nepotism here. Just one happy dude.

CAVESTOCK 2011

CAVESTOCK, BABY! What? You've never heard of it? It is something very akin to Woodstock but without Janis Joplin, The Who, or Jimi Hendrix. Also, without the love beads, the five hundred thousand people, and that one attendee who got run over by a tractor while sleeping in a nearby hayfield. So, yeah. Except for those few differences, Cavestock is pretty much like Woodstock. It's far out, man!

Check out Christian and his ad hoc band, The Narwhals (stellar name, no?), playing on that very famous Cavestock stage!

And here you thought, all this time, that Christian needed to be all tuxed up and wearing a little bow tie in order to bang on his drums. Isn't he adorable? Amen to that, Sly Stone and fam.

Need an Agent, Kid? Call Me!

Forget about J-Lo

"American Idol"

Forget about Cee Lo

"The Voice"

Forget about Li-Lo

"The Parent Trap," state pen, rehab X3

We've got K-Jo

"Kimball Jordan"

in! da! howse!, dawg!!!

Bieber Fever? How about,

BABE FLAV!

WAY TO GO, K-JO!

The Graduate

Well, he done got hisself some book learnin', he did!

I am so proud of Christian for all of the things that he has accomplished this year! Among all of the accolades, awards, recognitions, and distinctions that he has managed to rack up over the past three or four years, the accomplishments of which I am most proud are Christian's accomplishments of personal character. Never one to focus on himself, Christian manages to be a friend to everyone. And, I mean, EVERYONE. His unbelievable ability to always see the sunny side of things and the good side of people makes him a huge 6'1 1/2" people magnet. Add to that his uncompromising efforts to always be doing the right things with the right people in the right places, always trying to do and be his best in all aspects of his life, successfully maintaining his integrity at every turn--those are the things of which I am most proud.

And, that's my boy.

In case my woohooing doesn't clue you in, our graduate shows up at the 00:25 mark

Oh, so very typical . . .

Seems Like Old Times

Saturday.

A jazz quartet practicing in the afternoon.

At our house.

Half of the quartet being Sean and Christian.

An indie group.

One fifth of group being Christian.

Practicing same Saturday evening.

All evening.

For hours.

Til around midnight.

At our house.

Because we have the drummer.

For both bands.

And, both the drummer and his drums live here.

And, a band will usually follow the drummer.

And his drums.

Because drums are heavy.

And cumbersome.

And a pain to haul around.

At least compared to a piccolo.

So our house is the band house once again.

Day and night.

Guess who is in heaven?

Just one little glitch in my state of nirvana: Even with all of this drumming and strumming and singing and plucking and pedal sustaining (haha, Sean), the house seems awfully quiet and empty without a certain little red head and his Deedee-summoning bell . . . .

(Miss you, Little Red. See you on Wednesday!)

iVeintidós!

That right there is what you call

tall, dark and handsome.

Just FYI.

My, my, my. Isn't he a sight to behold!

I can hardly believe my good fortune in having the privilege--and make no mistake, it is SUCH a privilege--of being the mom to this spiritual giant who has a heart full of empathy for others and a soul devoted to his Savior. And, on top of all of that, he is funny, kind, handsome, hard working, cheerful, obedient, talented and a brainiac to boot! And also an Eagle Scout.

Do you see? Do you see now why I am scratching my noggin thinking, "Why me?" As in, "Holy moley! Why oh why did the Lord above think He could entrust little ol' me with such an extraordinary boy as Sean?" I've decided to just not ask any questions but just take the money, i.e., Seanie Boy, and run before someone gets wise to the fact that I don't deserve this absolutely incredible son of mine!

I love you with all of my heart and soul, Sean!

Thank you for being my precious boy.

HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY,

SEANIE BOY!

KEEPING UP WITH KIMBALL!

I am sitting on a gold mine, people! With Kimball in the house, there is never a moment of boredom or ennui. (Ooooh. Ahhhhh. Did you just catch that word? Ennui? That's what being obsessed with crossword puzzles will do for a non-intellectual like me. Those crossword puzzles often teach me a thing or two or three, and not necessarily just new words. Usually they serve to highlight what a dip I am.)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . . .

I've decided that since I have hilarious and always cute-as-can-be entertainment right at my fingertips, I'll be documenting this summer's hoohah by posting a picture of Kimball on the sidebar of my blog every day that he's here. Yeehaw,

"KEEPING UP WITH KIMBALL!"

is goin' high tech, ya'll!

Swing on by and check my blog every day for the latest and greatest of that little ray of sunshine dude! He's such a sport to go along with, yes, another one of my hare-brained schemes, isn't he? (He's down with all of it now that he has checked with his legal counsel and received confirmation that none of said pictures may be used in a court of law to implicate him in any nefarious doings. If that situation does happen to arise, he is prepared to point his toddler finger at me and say, "It's all HER fault.")

All the Kimballs in the House Say, "What?!!!"

LOOKY WHO'S HERE

FOR THE SUMMER!!!

Helping Deedee (that's me in Kimballese)

make a mess cookies!

Kimball sharing a mouthful of

tasty ham fried rice while he . . .

. . . wears Uncle Christian's helmet and his daddy's glasses, which helmet and glasses (if Kimball could have his way) would never be removed from his head except surgically.

And, all of this puts a song in my heart, a smile on my face, and a spring in my *step!!!

*FULL DISCLOSURE: That spring in my step is merely figuratively speaking. Truth be told, I have a big, ol' hunkin' case of tendonitis in that spring in my step right now, and it's making my git-along more of a very tortoise-y shuffle-along. Anybody wanna donate one of those walkers with the tennis ball feet? Boo.

If for some weirdo reason you see an exclamation point instead of an absolutely adorable video a few inches up from here, try refreshing your page--hopefully you will then be able to see the absolutely adorable video too.

Don't want you missing out on an absolutely adorable video.

It is adorable.

Absolutely.

It's the Little Things

When I first saw this video, I immediately thought of two people in my life who completely epitomize the message portrayed in this little clip. Thus, I'm posting this video in honor of my mother-in-law and my father-in-law who have, throughout the course of eight decades of their lives on this earth, managed to master this:

If this video is taking too long to load, go here where it may cooperate a little better for you :)

And, the Tiara Goes To . . .

DING, DING, DING!

WE HAVE A WINNER!!!

The winner of the official "Caption Contest on Deon's Whacked Out Blog," is . . .

Winning caption submitted by Beth

Kimball and his buddy,

Puxsutawney Seal, predict a quick end to winter!

Congratulations to Beth for her brilliance and wit which was put on full display by her award-winning caption! Beth will not only receive the grand prize of a $10 gift card to Texas Roadhouse, but she will now reign as the Caption Queen of my blog until my next contest when one of you can unceremoniously knock her off her pedestal. I don't think I need to tell you that there will be another contest. Gear up. (Forewarned is forearmed.)

My heartiest congratulations also go to Liz and Kathleen who are the master-minds behind the very clever second and third place captions! You two made a great run for the roses with your awesome submissions and shall each receive this very tasty consolation prize.

Submitted by Liz

"Hey, Red, this must be the SOUTH pole!"

Submitted by Kathleen

"I don't think I'm in San Diego anymore."

Lastly, my sincere and heart-felt thanks to you all for joining in my madness by either submitting your hilarious captions and/or voting like good little girls and boys. My accountants tell me that there were no underhanded dealings or kick-backs in play here; we run a clean dog and pony show over here at Deon's Whacked Out Blog. It's been a pleasure doing business with ya! Come back soon now!

We've Got Ourselves a Real Horse Race!

Have you checked the stats on the caption contest lately? The poll indicates that we've got ourselves a pretty good photo finish coming up tonight! Sorta like the photo finish at the reindeer race below! Say what now? Confidentially, I never knew there was such a thing as reindeer racing did you? I didn't. Did you? I didn't. And, confidentially-er, I didn't even know there really was such a thing as reindeer, period; I thought that that Clement C. Moore dude was just yanking our chain. Huh. You learn something new every day.

Announcer's translation: "Yo, Klaus! Wilmer! The race is over, dudes! You can stop now! I said, you can stop now! Guys! Guys? Well, they're outta here . . . . "

Today is the last day to vote! Good luck to everyone, even those of you whose submissions have garnered exactly zero votes. But! (There's always a but, isn't there.) But! You never know, there could be a huge upset and Li'l Caption Underdog could swoop in and take it all. Stranger things have been known to happen--like me actually bypassing a shoe sale. Strange. But true. So, see? You just never know.

And, thanks to everyone for going along with yet another one of my hare-brained adventures. What would I do without you? Well, besides keep the $10 Texas Roadhouse gift card for myself, that is. But, hey! Love ya!

GO VOTE!

The voting booth closes tonight at midnight, MST, provided I can figure out how to unplug that contraption. I've never been known to be extremely techneeeeecal, if you know what I mean, so I'm asking you to just do the right thing and keep your sweet little hands off of my voting machine after 12:00 in the a.m. Just in case.

We're On a Roll Here, Boys and Girls!

SOS! Heeeeeeeeeeeeelp! Farmer Dave just can't be stopped!

Next up in one man's search for happiness a new truck (please refer to my two previous posts to get yourself up to speed about my own private heartache on this issue) is this peach of a thing we happened to drive past in a neighboring community. The super cool thing about this truck (among many others!) is that it appears that the City of Pleasant Grove deemed the truck and its attached accessory to be sufficiently embellished and frou frou-ed enough to have the "Pleasant Grove Beautification Award" bestowed upon it.

No. Seriously.

Here, I'll show you:

What's that you say? You can't quite see it? Hang on, I'll give you a better view. Ready?

Wait for it . . .

TA DA!

Please take the extra effort to click on the picture to enlarge it so you too can bask in the beauty of what appears to be your run-of-the-mill bullet holes in the front entryway. Note also the adorable red bows on the side of the dwelling, giving it that dressed-to-the-nines look (country style) reminiscent of Nellie Oleson from "The Little House on the Prairie."

Beautification Award well deserved, no? Frankly, I think somebody ought to check for, ahem, "add-ins" in that water dispenser at the Pleasant Grove's City Council offices where they make these beautification determinations. Couldn't hurt.

Farmer Dave is always beyond thrilled whenever he gets to drive by this truck and its award winning appendage. Like I said, heaven help me. Waaaaaaahhhhh.

HAVE YOU HUGGED

YOUR VOTER TODAY?

Psst! Go vote! Now! Do it now!!!

Or Perhaps This?

Yesterday I let you experience a bit of my horror at the thought of Farmer Dave getting himself mixed up with a truck like this. And now, wouldn't you know it--this . . . this . . . this "thing" has to come along and get Farmer Dave all twitter-pated! And, do you know why Farmer Dave is all twitter-pated? Go on, ask me why. BECAUSE AMONG OTHER AWESOME ACCOUTREMENTS, THE DING-DONG THING HAS A NIFTY DOORKNOB RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WINDOW! Apparently Farmer Dave someone thinks that a doorknob on a truck is mighty fine. Heaven help me.

By my count, at least three different vehicles were sacrificed in the making of this jewel. On second glance, perhaps only two different vehicles were used, one of which had its backside inhumanly whacked off. Either way, the answer is, uh, NO.

Click on the picture to get a better view of this showroom beauty and to see if you can spy the delightful doorknob.

GO VOTE!

It's your civic duty as a blog citizen!

See all of the captions with pics here.

Now, That's a Bang For Your Buck!

Huzzah! Just take a gander at what $8,000 worth of body work can do to really gussy up your ride! And they say auto mechanics are only out to rip us off. Pshhfff. All lies.

(I've been hiding this ad from Farmer Dave. Given the fact that this is a local seller, and given the fact that Farmer Dave has had a hankerin' for a truck . . . boy howdy, things could go terribly, terribly wrong here. I think it best that I just nip it, nip it in the bud, don't you?!)

Did you vote today?

Your vote could bring peace to the world!!!

VOTE!

Howdy-do! Remember to vote for your favorite caption in my humdinger of a caption contest! Go here to see each caption in all of its glory. You may vote once a day until June 14, so go pull that lever, punch that chad, mark that "X", or close your eyes and throw a dart at the target. Whatev. Just remember to vote!

For Your Consideration:

Holy cats, it's been a crazy week, what with a graduation, hosting a graduation party until 2:00 a.m., fretting about another graduation party that lasted until 5:00 a.m., a very special ordination, getting the young one ready for and sending him off on a three-week church history tour, dealing with an impromptu waterfall in our basement ceiling, etcetera, etcetera! I'm sure I've now successfully talked you into giving me a pass for being such a pokey little puppy in posting the submissions for my caption contest, no? YES! I knew I could count on you guys to have my back. Thanks tons; you're the best!

Anywho, your brilliant captions are in, and I must say that you guys did me proud! Believe me, you're going to have a hoot 'n a holler over these witty submissions; even "The Emperor's New Groove" and "Yellow Submarine" are representin'!

To ensure that each entry receives a fair shake, I am repeating the photo with each caption, and every entry can be contemplated and judged independently. Be thoughtful and generous now, ya hear?!

PLEASE READ: The voting period will be from June 7, 2011, to June 14, 2011. You may vote for one caption each day during the voting period. Pinky swear, cross your heart, and hope to never watch "The Jersey Shore" that you won't vote for more than one caption a day, okay dokey? I disabled something called crackers or cupcakes or cookies or some such doodah that now allows you to cheat a little and vote more often than is prudent, but I don't think my readers are going to stoop to that type of criminal behavior, right? RIGHT?!!! That includes you, Snookie.

So now, without further nonsense from me, LET THE VOTING BEGIN!

Oh. I guess I should mention that the voting booth is on the right sidebar of this here little blog. ----------->

Right over there. D'ya see it? ----------->

Right there ---------->

There ---------->

Awesome.

Now check these out:

Kimball and his buddy, Puxsutawney Seal, predict a quick end to winter!

I don't think I'm in San Diego anymore.

Wendell thought that maybe if he held completely still, that strange looking pup would go back to where it came from.

"This Fortress of 'Solitude' has a serious pest problem," thought little Kal-El.

"Hi!"

In horror, Fitzpatrick suddenly rued leaving the house without his toupee, never guessing his hat would be filched by a pick-pocket peewee.

"Yewo pacie?"

"I knew I should have turned left at Albuquerque!"

"Papa, pease?" Alas, Kimball's grandpa was not at the South Pole.

"Are you my mother?"

" . . . and they told me it NEVER snows in San Diego . . . yeah, right!"

"Man! I sure wish mothers wouldn't feed bean burritos to their kids

on 'Swim With the Seals' Thursdays!"

Hey! How did Howie Mandel sneak past those bouncers at the door?

In one single instant, Maurice's secret membership in the Hair Club for Men was exposed for all the world to see after that punk kid swiped his hat.

"Hey, Red, this must be the SOUTH Pole!"

"What are the odds of that trap door leadin' me out here?"

"This place reminds me Blackburn, Lancashire."

Whadda I tell ya? Brillliant! Remember to come back and vote every day! But just once a day, kind of like those vitamins. Got it? Go vote!

Time's Up!

The deadline is here! Please put your pencils down and turn in your captions to Miss Crump there at her desk in the front of her little ol' classroom. Voting on the submitted entries for the caption contest will commence just as soon as I can get Deputy Fife to give me a lift over to Wally's Filling Station so I can buy myself a bottle of sody pop and set my brain to decipherin' all of your whoppers! Thanks so much for joining in the fun! You folks are the best!!! (We here in Mayberry live a pretty simple life; caption contests are the highlight of our year, dontcha know.)

Want Fries With That?

FILET MEDALLIONS?

SMOTHERED CHICKEN?

HALF SLAB OF RIBS?

Anyone?

Anyone?

Bueller?

Anyone?

Remember to enter the caption contest featured here by midnight on Monday, May 30, 2011, and you could win a $10 gift card to Texas Roadhouse, you lil' cowhands!

The submissions I have received so far are hilarious, so don't be slackin' off! You can enter as many captions as you can conjure up, so have at it!