20 days of chill writing challenge

Ten hot dogs?

Ten?

How does one topple 10 hot dogs?

For those who don’t know, I’m a hot dog nut. I’d go so far as to say I am a bit of an aficionado. I savor my hot dogs.

Usually, when I go to a hot dog joint, I get two — one with yellow mustard and one plain. Usually there’s no added “fluff” on a dog, outside of places where it’s needed (for example, when I was in Chicago and got a Chicago-style dog).

But I always get a plain one so I can really appreciate the taste of the dog.

I’ve been known to go an hour or more out of my way to try a local hot dog joint (though, ironically enough, I’ve yet to visit a hot dog place in a town where I work — and pass by the place a couple of times per week), and when I am planning a day of activities, hot dog places are usually my first search for food stops.

I’ve been known to travel extra to hit the original Nathan’s at Coney Island, though I’ve yet to be there live for the annual hot dog eating contest. It is something I’d like to do one day.

During those travels, I’ve had really good hot dogs and some not-so-good hot dogs. It’s rare for me to think a hot dog is truly bad. Though, when in college, we went to a wrestling show at the Legion hall in Hazelton, Pa. The hot dogs there were downright awful … and I’m shocked I didn’t get sick from them.

But I digress.

What about 10 hot dogs? All right… jeez… I am getting to that.

For me, though, where are hot dogs really prevalent? At the ball park. I’m a baseball nut, so it goes naturally. In fact, I have a hard time remembering any trip to a park where there wasn’t a hot dog eaten. (There are also places I am hoping to one day have a dog, such as Wrigley Field or a Dodger Dog in LA).

This past summer when I went on the Summer of Baseball Tour? I had at least one hot dog at every park I visited. Sometimes they were really good, sometimes not so much. The times we stopped somewhere before the game to eat? That usually meant one hot dog around the seventh inning.

After all, I had to try one.

A few years ago, before I had the reality of diabetes and health concerns take over, I went with my brother, a cousin and his son to a Phillies game. The dogs at Citizens Bank Park are Hatfields, and they are awesome.

But they are also expensive. That usually means one or two of them, with a drink and maybe some fries or something is your dinner.

However, it was dollar dog night.

Yes, you read that right. That means hot dogs for that night cost a buck. Yee ha!

Needless to say, we took advantage.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t reach 10 hot dogs that night, but I came close. However, if I remember right, it was about the seventh inning when the promotion was ending. So we made a run for a final bunch of dogs. The vendor I ran into had 10 left. So I bought them all.

We didn’t eat them all.

I was looked at rather crazy when I came back with all of them. So we divided them up and gave a couple to people around us.

Since that night, I haven’t been to a dollar dog night in Philly. Honestly? I’m not sure I could do it again because I don’t know if I could avoid the temptation of trying for 10 dogs.

How ’bout them dogs?

This post is part of the 20 Days of Chill Writing Challenge hosted by A ‘lil HooHaa. Please check out the link if you’d like to see others or join in. You don’t have to do every theme if you don’t want! And for those participating, take a moment and check out the other participants!

T-SHIRT ALERT: You can also get the official t-shirt of the 20 Days of Writing Challenge by going to the TeeSpring campaign. It will run for 21 days (through Jan. 25), but make sure you get your shirt. They are $15. A total of 10 need to be ordered for the campaign to go through. If 10 are not sold, then there will be no shirt made.

Feel free to leave a comment, or e-mail P.J. at hoohaablog [at] gmail.com. Also, please “Like” HooHaa Blog on Facebook!

Chill.

What is it? How does one define it? What does it mean to you? How does one do it?

Is it a hike in a state or national park?

Watching a sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean?

A sunset over the Pacific?

Maybe it’s a brilliant photo walk somewhere. Or finding a geocache in a wonderful spot. A good, competitive softball game on a warm summer night.

There’s family events and beers with friends. There’s the serenity of a nice walk on a nature trail or a good meal at a new eatery.

These, of course, are some things I find as chill.

What exactly is chill, though? Is there a definition?

It’s a hard thing to explain. But allow me to say what chill is not — the flu. Especially when one has already had the flu shot.

I’m pretty sure I had other ideas for this prompt originally, but I’ve been on the couch or in bed all weekend, so haven’t thought much, and I don’t have too many thoughts right now.

I just hope I find real chill soon. I need it!

This post is part of the 20 Days of Chill Writing Challenge hosted by A ‘lil HooHaa. Please check out the link if you’d like to see others or join in. You don’t have to do every theme if you don’t want! And for those participating, take a moment and check out the other participants!

T-SHIRT ALERT: You can also get the official t-shirt of the 20 Days of Writing Challenge by going to the TeeSpring campaign. It will run for 21 days (through Jan. 25), but make sure you get your shirt. They are $15. A total of 10 need to be ordered for the campaign to go through. If 10 are not sold, then there will be no shirt made.

Feel free to leave a comment, or e-mail P.J. at hoohaablog [at] gmail.com. Also, please “Like” HooHaa Blog on Facebook!

There are times in life I wonder where things could have gone different.

So many friends and family get married, have kids, and the such. I chose the newspaper industry and was married to a job that definitely never reciprocated. I missed weddings and family events, and friend’s events for the job.

For nothing.

I worked my ass off and gave my heart.

For nothing.

To the corporate world, I was another grunt. Another number. I was invisible. Do the work, and get pennies on the dollar. That’s what it seemed like, anyway, with mandated furloughs and no raises for like five years.

Like I said, for nothing.

There were times I wondered if what I did was ever noticed. I truly, at times, felt invisible.

As a daydreamer, I often wonder if choices made would have made things better or worse. What if I had followed in my father’s footsteps of being a cop? Maybe I would have gone on to somehow become a Trooper? In that case, I’d probably be a lot closer to retirement – with a great pension – than I am right now.

On the flip side, what if that had happened? What if I had been assigned somewhere else and something happened to me? After all, nobody ever said being a cop was easy.

What if I had gone to college faster out of high school and did the path one was “supposed” to take? Would I have gone in a direction? Would I have already been in PR, just somewhere else? Who knows. Maybe I’d be one of those millions of people in the city … working every day and being just another face – invisible among millions.

Whenever I go to the city, I always try and look at people and see their face, their eyes; to make a small connection, albeit for a moment in time. Because after that, we all become invisible. You’ll likely never, ever see that person again. Ever. It’s like they are whisked away.

But what happens if these things change?

Life changes. Maybe I have a different set of friends. Maybe I’m married with kids. Maybe I’m married and divorced. Maybe my career would be way worse than ever working at a newspaper. Maybe … maybe I’m no longer here.

That’s the crazy part of life.

One change, one movement, one decision … put it all in a different realm and you could be in a different space and time, though likely still invisible among the billions of people on Earth.

The key, though, is to not be invisible among the people you truly care for. As long as you are visible to the people who matter, you’ll never be invisible.

If you’d like to see a full set of photos I took a few years back of the newspaper press run, please click here. And remember, the next day in the challenge is Monday, January 12!

This post is part of the 20 Days of Chill Writing Challenge hosted by A ‘lil HooHaa. Please check out the link if you’d like to see others or join in. You don’t have to do every theme if you don’t want! And for those participating, take a moment and check out the other participants!

T-SHIRT ALERT: You can also get the official t-shirt of the 20 Days of Writing Challenge by going to the TeeSpring campaign. It will run for 21 days (through Jan. 25), but make sure you get your shirt. They are $15. A total of 10 need to be ordered for the campaign to go through. If 10 are not sold, then there will be no shirt made.

Feel free to leave a comment, or e-mail P.J. at hoohaablog [at] gmail.com. Also, please “Like” HooHaa Blog on Facebook!

I’ve got a golden secret!

OK, maybe I don’t.

But I’ve been doing some serious research since this challenge and the themes were announced. I had been wondering about this one all along as Willy Wonka’s secrets have long been guarded, first by Wonka himself, and then by Charlie Bucket and his family.

Bucket, if you recall, won the prized chocolate and candy factory after securing one of five golden tickets released around the world. The golden ticket winners would receive a tour of the factory and a lifetime supply of chocolate. In the end, Bucket was the only one of the five Wonka felt he could trust, so not only did he win the chocolate, he was chosen to take over the factory, once Wonka retired.

That’s where Wonka steered the ship wrong.

Built up over decades, the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory was a cornerstone in its neighborhood. Though for years nobody could see the inside, it pumped out some of the finest candy in the world. At some point, Wonka decided he had to find a replacement, especially with Oompa Loompas needing somebody they could trust.

Oompa Loompas are an orange-skinned being from Loompaland. Being smaller, they were often preyed upon by other predators, so Wonka invited them to work at his factory. He wanted to make sure they were also taken care of.

Bucket and his family, which consisted of his mother, Grandpa Joe, Grandma Josephine, Grandpa George, and Grandma Georgette, the latter three who were bedridden. Grandpa Joe was also bedridden, but found his legs after Charlie found the golden ticket.

Charlie and family moved into the factory and Wonka seemed pleased with his protégé. However, over the course of the next couple of years, the Bucket family started seizing control of different aspects of the company. Charlie Bucket became a young CEO and took Wonka Industries public, and soon after forced Willy Wonka out of the place he had built from the ground up.

Bucket, once classified as a humble and happy youngster, turned once he had complete control of the factory. After Wonka had passed, as well as all his grandparents, Bucket purchased a massive home in the country for his mother.

Once he was at the factory by himself, he fired all the Oompa Loompas, sending them back to Loompaland. The whereabouts of those beings is currently unknown. He outsourced all of his labor, and eventually sold the company in a massive merger of candy giants.

Wonka, before he died, gave an interview where he said he would have been better off giving the factory to somebody like Verruca Salt, considering he knew what he was getting with her. Instead, he gave it to somebody who portrayed innocence and later proved to be a large snake in the grass. Wonka lived out his retirement in a small apartment not far from the factory, but was never allowed back in. He was often seen standing outside the gates, staring in with glossy eyes.

Bucket, on the other hand, lived the life of luxury. He had fast and expensive cars, several homes, and cheapened the candy made famous by Willy Wonka.

After selling, Bucket continued his lavish lifestyle, but eventually blew through all of his money. Last anyone heard from him, he was working as a car salesman in a suburban area, trying to make ends meet.

With the downfall of Charlie Bucket, people began to realize that Wonka hadn’t passed along everything he knew about candy making and the factory. In fact, his greatest candy making secret never escaped his lips before he died. The only other person who knew the secret, according to many sources, was Larry Oompa Loompa.

When reached for comment, Larry Oompa Loompa seemed cryptic in his response about the whole situation.

“Oompa Loompa doom-pa-dee-da, If you’re not greedy, you will go far,” he said. “You will live in happiness, too. Like the Oompa Loompa doom-pa-dee-do”

This post is part of the 20 Days of Chill Writing Challenge hosted by A ‘lil HooHaa. Please check out the site if you’d like to see others or join in. And for those participating, take a moment and check out the other participants!

T-SHIRT ALERT: You can also get the official t-shirt of the 20 Days of Writing Challenge by going to the TeeSpring campaign. It will run for 21 days (through Jan. 25), but make sure you get your shirt. They are $15. A total of 10 need to be ordered for the campaign to go through. If 10 are not sold, then there will be no shirt made.

Feel free to leave a comment, or e-mail P.J. at hoohaablog [at] gmail.com. Also, please “Like” HooHaa Blog on Facebook!