Beer Cans Can Fly

Today is Wednesday July 20th, 2011. Location, Destin, FL. I apologize for not posting this sooner. I returned from vacation, got involved with work, and ran a little behind on updating the blog.

I am not afraid to admit that I am a little immature. Okay, by most accounts I am a really immature. I think the same now as I did when I was seventeen years old. Remember that. Please take this in to account as you read the following.

Warning. What you are about to read is classified information, it is a patent pending process, and is protected by International Law.

Today the conditions were perfect. We had the ingredients and ideal weather conditions. Below is a list of the items and conditions in our favor. We had a kite, 550 yards of 50 pound test fishing line, the beach, a steady 15 mph steady breeze from the southwest, some beer, plenty of time, and 3 willing participants.

Some immature guy in our group had an idea. The group consisted of my future son-in-law, my almost legal son, and yours truly. The idea was this. “What if we attempted to fly a kite with empty beer cans attached”. After some thoughtful consideration, a theory was offered, a plan was hatched, and the steps to conduct the test were outlined. It was agreed that the steps were not only to be documented in writing but had to be confirmed with visual evidence in order to confirm the process. Below is the order and visual evidence of the events.

1. Drink and empty some beer cans.




2. Fly the kite.




3. Attach the empty cans to the kite.





4. Say goodbye to the cans








5. Watch as the cans soar.









6. Wonder in amazement.



On this day beer cans soared to an altitude of approximately 1,300 feet above sea level. To our amazement the process worked. It worked beyond our expectations. The myth was confirmed. Beer cans can fly. The altitude was so high that the 8th and 9th beer cans attached to the kite were invisible without the use of a telescope. Those suckers were up there.

During the process our grouped amazed the beach goers and even startled the local seagull population. Beach goers made comments like, “What is that in air”, “ Is that a UFO?”, It seems to be floating”. Numerous seagulls buzzed the cans hoping for a snack. The most telling comments came from a couple of Tulane University female volleyball players that happened by. It was simple, they said, “We like your kite”. The process was validated, the girls liked our kite, and our theory was confirmed.

We celebrated. Like all good celebrations we began to reflect. We discussed the process, the variables, and the results. We quickly came to realize that the outcome and results were occurring in real time. The one factor and the most difficult to predict in the process was the wind. Little did we know this was about to be a problem.

As soon as the wind died the trouble began. As we discovered, to reach an altitude of 1,300 feet above sea level meant that the kite had to fly over some houses, a condo building, and some power lines.

During the ascent no one seemed to notice. During the descent we noticed. As the wind died and the kite rapidly began to lose altitude panic set in. Beer cans and fishing line were falling from the sky. They hit the roofs of condo buildings, houses, and power lines. The situation was out of control. So we did what all mature people do in this type of situation do. We ran. We ran fast and really far. I later learned that it is really hard to out run the long arm of the law. They have radios and we had legs. Below is a picture of my mug shot. I am just kidding.


We survived without incident but did learn some valuable lessons. Our only shot at redemption will have to occur at the beach again next year. I hope you have the time to this summer test the theory. I guess we all must "live and learn".

Mr. Popular

Today is Monday July 18th, 2011. I am at the beach in Destin, Florida. It is the height of the summer vacation season and the beach is packed with thousands of people. And today I was Mr. Popular. For me being popular is a unique experience. If you knew me when popularity really mattered, like in high school, you knew that I was not even close to being popular. I was a regular guy that showed up, did my work, passed my classes, and left. Girls did not care about me and guys thought I was just some goofy smart kid. Today, that all changed.

When I say popular, I mean really popular. People by the thousands wanted what I had. What I had was not fame or fortune. It was not model good looks or even the secret to longevity. I had an object. In 1899, Charles Duell, the commissioner of the U. S. Patent Office declared that “Everything that can be invented has been invented”. For the record he was wrong. Really wrong.

I was introduced to this object by my future son in law. His name is Roman Grier. In marketing speak he is what we call an early adopter. Roman has utilized this object for more than 2 years and yet to a person no one on the beach had seen one. I heard comments like, “Where did you get that”? and “I’d pay anything to have one of those”. I had a better mouse trap and the world was beating a path to my door.

Below is a picture of me and my object.




The purpose is evident but I think it is important to point several of the key features.

1. The American Flag is proudly displayed.
2. The holder is insulated in a configuration commonly known as a koozie.
3. The dual strap design, holds the beer can, and frees the hands.
4. The self balancing design keeps the can upright and eliminates spills.
5. These features make if perfect for corn hole games or walking on the beach.
6. Bass Pro Shop is the official retailer of the hands free koozie.
7. The hands free holder is also available in a Bluetooth compatible version.
8. They make a great gift.

I will be using one all week. If you have questions please post them as comments to my blog or facebook page. I am now an expert user.

Corn Hole Mania

Today is Sunday July 17th, 2011. The Squires family is at the beach in Destin FL. In the last 24 hours it has rained a lot. Like 4 inches a lot. Today was very cloudy, with low clouds, and drizzle. It was our first full day at the beach and we were bored. So what does the Squires family do on a rainy day at the beach? We build homemade corn hole tables to keep ourselves entertained!


So why corn hole? The story goes like this. We are staying at the condo of my friend Al and his wife Carol. They were generous enough to let us stay for the week. Their condo is sweet and has a large patio area with plenty of extra space. Corn hole is often called bean bag toss. The name comes from the tossing of small bags filled with corn into a hole in a board. It does not require a tremendous amount of skill and fits with people that drink beer while relaxing at the beach. That game is perfect for us.


Before you think lesser of us please keep in mind that these are no ordinary corn hole tables. They are built to some exacting standards. The standards are those of the American Corn Hole Assoc. If you don’t believe me, and at this point I don’t think you do, do some research at www.playcornhole.org.


After a thorough review of the corn hole table specifications and a search of the available tools, we concluded we could pull this off. Keep in mind that we are on vacation and have access to a limited variety of tools. With the use of Al’s cordless drill and the help from a friendly associate at Home Depot we had the materials needed to start construction.


Construction began around 1:00pm on Sunday afternoon. During the process beers were consumed, power tools were utilized, spray paint was shaken and sprayed, and in the end a finished product was produced. All the while we never left the kitchen of condo. Actually, we utilized the outside areas for painting and the underground parking lot for assembly.


During the process there was a buzz around the complex about what exactly was going on. No one said anything but people wondered. They wanted to know but were afraid to ask. Once the tables were completed everyone was jealous. The weather cleared late in the day and the first bean bag was tossed at around 7:00 pm. People from the floors above looked down from their balconies. Children gathered and watched in quiet amazement. A local news station dispatched a reporter for a firsthand account of the event. A live feed was established and even the term “film at eleven was used”. We knew history was being made. The corn holing went on for hours and slightly before 11:00pm the last bag was tossed. We had a blast.


In hopes that Al and Carol, their family, and the future guests of the condo, will forever use the tables and enjoy a distinct home patio advantage, we painted the tables in the classic Tennessee Volunteer colors of orange and white. See the photo below. In case you were wondering Al and Carol attended the University of Tennessee.





The weather for Monday is expected to be perfect. We know it will be perfect for the beach and later for some evening corn hole. I will participate, watch, and report.

Spring Break for 50 Year Olds

This past weekend I participated in an event that has become my annual rite of spring. Over many of the last 25 years I have traveled to Myrtle Beach for a spring golf outing. You could call it, “Spring Break For 50 Year Olds”. Although I am not quite 50 years old many that attend are past the age of 50. My friend Tom, a Myrtle veteran, coined the phrase a few years ago. I liked it and will forever use it. Our trips are not at all like the spring break trips you may have attended in college. At SBF50YO’s the talk and activities are centered on golf. We talk about the speed of the greens, or how we think the camber on our spine angle at address is 2 degrees off, or how we are hitting the new driver we bought but didn’t tell our wives about. For the most part really benign stuff. Below is a short summary.

Wednesday May 11, 2011 – Atlanta to Florence, SC. I meet my friend Bill for an early round of golf at my club in Woodstock, GA. After golf we travel most of the way to Myrtle Beach and plan on spending the night in Florence, SC. Bill is one of my favorite attendees. He is an experienced traveler to Myrtle and works the program like William & Kate’s wedding planner. He buys his alcohol in advance in case the stores in Myrtle happen to run out. His clothes and golf clubs are packed days in advance. He even packs extra alcohol in his golf bag in easy pour, unbreakable, plastic bottles. His attention to detail is normally impeccable, except for today. In an effort to lower the cost of the trip he offers to book us a room using hotel points at a Hilton property in Florence, SC. In this case the Hilton Garden Inn. A problem arose during the check-in process. Bill had made a reservation. The reservation was for May 18th. Today was May 11th. The hotel was sold out. Most of the other hotels in Florence were sold out. The girls at the check-in desk do not like us. Being experienced business travelers we try to throw our weight around. I try the old, “I don’t think you know who we are line”. Bill tries, “ I am Bill - a silver, platinum, ruby, elite Hilton Honors program member”. It either worked or they got tired of listening to our lame excuses and gave us a room. We eat dinner at Mellow Mushroom in Florence, SC and watch a bunch of twenty something’s drink beer and then panic when the check comes. See Bill and I below.




Thursday May 12, 2011. Florence, SC to Myrtle Beach. We leave the Hilton Garden Inn at around 7:30 am for a leisurely drive to Myrtle Beach. We have a 9:20 am tee. My GPS calculates the time to the course as being 90 minutes. Panic starts to set in as the morning traffic begins to build as we get closer to Myrtle. It takes us approximately 100 minutes as we have traffic and the need to stop for bloody mary mix. For the record, Walgreen’s in Conway , SC sells spicy V8 juice and is open 24 hours. We arrive at the course just in time for our 9:20 am start. Several in our group have already teed off. We get paired with a couple of guys from New Jersey. After dinner, I realize I need to check in and pay the bill for my share of the condo. The lady behind the desk was the assistant manager. She should not have been in a position of management. It took 25 minutes for her to run my credit card.

Friday May 13, 2011. Early Friday morning as we were preparing for golf Bill made a brilliant observation. It was 7:47am. He was painstakingly mixing a bloody mary when he uttered this simple phrase. “You can’t drink all day unless you start early”. And today he did. I know that it is not polite to count the drinks of a friend and fellow Myrtle traveler. But I did wonder. How much did he drink today?
I had been with him all day. We had played 36 holes of golf and had gone to dinner. I know that he started with a couple of bloody mary’s. During golf he added in some bourbons and diet cokes, and downed a few beers at lunch. Later that evening there was more bourbons and diet cokes. After some thoughtful analysis my count had him at somewhere around 20 to 25 drinks for the day. Bill is now 61. Normal people start to slow down at that age. In sport they call it, “losing a step”. He is unaffected by age and seems to be getting stronger. And not only that he can still drink.

Saturday May 14, 2011. As trips to Myrtle go, the group has decided to play a course that is located on the south side of town. We are staying on the north side, specifically North Myrtle Beach. While most people perceive Myrtle Beach to be a sleepy little town it is actually a spread out populated area. Our course is 40 miles from the condo. Bill mixes an extra bloody mary for the trip this morning. Bill and I are paired with Tom and Walt. Tom is another old friend and normally takes my money on these trips. Tom is a hustler. He is sneaky and knows how to win money. Walt is Tom’s friend from Florida. Walt is the oldest guy in our group and reminds me of Jack Lalane. He is fit and could probably tow an airplane if he got a running start. I played really well for 36 holes and actually won some money from Tom. It was special. So special that Bill and I decided to head to a famous local night club to celebrate. Some in our group had been to the same club the night before and complained about the price of drinks. Bill proposed a plan combat the high cost of mixed drinks. It was simple. The plan went like this. We would stop at the local ABC store and buy mini-bottles of alcohol. The mini-bottles, sometimes known as airplane bottles, could easily be hidden in our pockets and smuggled in to the bar. Soft drinks could be ordered at half of the price of alcohol drinks to complete the process. A thought occurred to me. Exactly how old are we? Really, we were going smuggle alcohol in to a bar? The plan worked flawlessly and we were able to enjoy the night. SBF50YO’s is scheduled for the same week in 2012. We can always accommodate more “breakers”.

The Guilty Obsession

I have a guilty obsession. I am not afraid to admit it although it is probably not what you think. Most people have a guilty obsession that centers on food , alcohol, or even cigarettes. My daughter also has a guilty obsession. Like mine, hers centers on people. Her obsession involves the celebrities in People magazine. My obsession also centers on people, but they are the people in and on the flights that connect through our nation’s airports. Sometimes my obsession goes a little farther than just looking or watching. At times I feel compelled to talk to these people. So, I do.

Over the last month I have spent a lot of time obsessing in airports and on airplanes. Below are just a few of my conversations and observations.

March 10th, 2011. I am in the Boston airport waiting for my flight to Atlanta. I see a woman wearing a shirt that asks a very interesting question. In very large print it says, “Ask Me About Roller Derby”. Little did she know I am/was a big fan of roller derby. Especially women’s roller derby. When I was a kid I used to watch roller derby every Saturday afternoon on WTCG Channel 17 in Atlanta. There I was, in the Boston airport, standing next to a real live person who had to know something about roller derby. I had no choice, I had to ask. This girl actually owned a roller derby league in Portland, OR. She was a roller derby star, she didn’t like the way the team was being run, and decided to start her own league. You could say she was in a league of her own. Her league is called “ Rose City Roller Derby”. Check it out at www.rosecityrollers.com. I asked her all the stupid questions, like was it fake, did it hurt when you fell, and who made up the inane scoring system. Once I recovered from the elbow to the ribs I realized that she had a strategic plan for her sport. She was in Boston on business and was seeking to partner with WWE on a few events. Roller Derby and professional wrestling? I think we could have a winner. You heard it here first.

March 14th, 2011. I am on a flight to Indianapolis in first class and am seated next to a guy that I believe has to be a celebrity. I convince myself that it is Eminem. He is plump, almost round, totally green, and has a big “M” on his chest. I wonder if he has the other “M” on his back? I wish that he would lean forward. Seriously, I think the guy is Eminem. He is wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head. He has on large RayBan mirrored sunglasses and was listening to Rap music on his Doctor Dre Monster Beat Headphones. I stare without being obvious. For an hour and a half I am humming that song, Lose Yourself, from the movie Eight Mile in preparation. We finally land and Eminem emerges from beneath the hood. He was old and gray headed and looked he had just been released from a mental institution. He was an impersonator. My brush with a real live rapper had ended. My day was now ruined.

March 17th, 2011. I am on a flight from Atlanta to San Antonio. I am seated next to a large woman. She is very large. We are in the exit row with the extra space between the seats and she barely fits. She has to be like 6’4” and must weigh nearly 300 pounds. Knowing that we are about to become close I feel like we need to talk. So we do. She is from the Detroit area. She is perhaps one of the nicest women I have ever met. We have a nice chat about life and the world around us. She is older and has kids that are about my age. She is on her way to visit her younger brother for his 60th birthday party. Both of her brothers were renowned surgeons in the San Antonio area. She also told me about her son the attorney. He lives in New York and was trapped in the subway for 11 hours following 9/11. He represents people in the entertainment industry. I asked her if he worked for anyone famous. In fact he did. His most famous client was none other than Eminem. He was the personal attorney for Eminem. Just in case it might be worth something someday I asked for her autograph. Afterall, she was the mother of the attorney for Eminem. My brush with a real live rapper was alive, again.

Some of my other observations.

A girl on the airplane with the tattoo of a dragon on her stomach.
A guy on a cell phone negotiating a $ 17 million deal to sell property to Walmart.
A Chinese college student studying about modern medical techniques.
A Hispanic looking girl with a harsh New England accent.
Italian and Chinese food on the same airport restaurant menu.
A couple with a box of live Maine lobsters returning to Florida.
Two little girls under the age of six traveling alone on an airplane.
People tasting Diet Vanilla Coke for the first time at an airport sample stand.
People desperately trying anything to get on a flight that is oversold by 10 people.
A couple planning their wedding at an airport gate.
People stuffing bags in overhead bins with no chance of ever closing the bins.
A little old man wearing a clip on bow tie.

I will continue to watch and report.

The Fortune Cookie

We recently had family Chinese night. It was great to see the family and catch up on all of their life events. After dinner we embarked on the ancient Chinese tradition of the reading our fortune cookie messages aloud. We added the phrase, “while in bed”, at the beginning and end of each saying. Try it some time, it can spice things up. In our case that alone did not add much humor.

So, I did some research and some creative thinking and came up with a few fortune cookie sayings that you would never see on one of those little pieces of paper. Below are some of my favorites.

1. Help, I am being held prisoner in a Chinese Bakery.
2. You should wear corduroy more often.
3. Oops… Wrong Cookie
4. You are not illiterate.
5. Your dog Sparky, well he is no longer missing.
6. Your hidden talents may not be there at all if you think about it.
7. That was not really chicken.
8. Hard times are behind you, impossible times are ahead.
9. About time I got out of that cookie.
10. Don’t eat any Chinese food today or you will become very sick.
11. An alien of some sort will be appearing to you shortly.
12. Pick another fortune cookie.
13. Never miss a good chance to shut up.
14. Borrow money from a pessimist, he won’t expect repayment.
15. He who laughs last is laughing at you.

Should I be concerned about the last one? Well, I am not. But I hope you are, laughing at me that is.

I Did Not Have To Go Out

The weather forecasters around Atlanta starting predicting snow on Tuesday for a storm that was expected to hit 5 days later on Sunday evening. The TV stations dusted off their storm centers and went in to full blown alarmist panic mode for nearly a week. Schools closed before the first flake fell in classic Atlanta fashion. Stores were sold out of the basics – milk, bread, and toilet paper by early Saturday. To their credit the forecasters got it right. We received about 6 inches of snow at my house on Sunday evening. See the photo below.

By Monday morning the city was a blanket of white. The airways were filled with the doomsayers. Everyone said the same thing. “It is bad”. The roads are “treacherous”. “If you do not have to go out, don’t”. After watching this for a few hours Monday morning, I reached an important decision. I did not have to go out, but I did!

I am not sure exactly why I decided to ignore the advice of the experts. My wife called me an idiot, imagine that, and decided to stay in. Perhaps it was that odd human characteristic of weird curiosity, like looking at a car wreck, or being drawn to the site of destruction.

In previous years I may have attempted this adventure without the proper equipment. I would have gone out without a cold weather survival kit in a vehicle that was not equipped to handle the snow. But, I have matured. I think. Nowadays, I have a Toyota 4 Runner complete with 4 wheel drive, traction control, antilock brakes, and a sunroof for an escape hatch. This was everything I needed to be successful.

I waved goodbye to Lovie and headed out. I live near the bottom of a fairly steep hill. I knew early on that my fate would be determined quickly. Everything went as planned. My truck plowed through the snow like a “snowcat” on the slopes. No slipping, sliding, fishtailing, or skidding. I made my way past scores of closed businesses, a few abandoned cars, and some people out for a walk.

I happened upon only two open businesses. Both of which are necessities in life. First was the gas station, and secondly was the liquor store. Both lots were filled with people that, “did not have to go out”, but did. My decision was validated. There are other people like me after all. A sense of calm fell over me. I was relieved.

I returned home safely with a renewed sense of accomplishment and purpose. After some thought, I came to this conclusion. There was no purpose and I accomplished nothing. What else can I say about my decision during the Great Atlanta Snow Storm of 2011?