Well I have found the same truth sometimes in a song. Sometimes just a genre of song will bring me right back to high-school, my mullet, thin stache, jean jacket and Air Jordan’s. Instantly I feel younger and energetic. Sometimes it can be a specific song. I still remember after I bought Tracy’s engagement ring. I was so excited and nervous, again with the mullet, thin stache…… that I just couldn’t keep it in my pocket. I still remember to this day as I was driving back to campus in my 86 Black Pontiac Firebird with the reticulating headlights stuck in up mode, dark tinted windows and spoiler aiding the critical aerodynamics of the superb driving machine. Surprisingly, there was very little traffic in that dark warm evening in Springfield Missouri, and thanks to my leather driving gloves, I was able to drive a little faster than usual. I turned up the radio, a smile locked onto my face and the song that was playing was from 38 special. A song, prior to that day, that I thought was okay, but definitely not my top style, definitely not my favorite, and probably not appropriate for the moment, but a good song. Yet, on that day it became one of those special songs that takes me back to that night over and over, every time I hear it.

Or even (gasp, do I even dare admit this?) Milli Vanilli. You see it was only one of about six CD’s Tra and I had for our drive from Anchorage back to Missouri to school. So it was well used, over and over and over; girl you know it’s true. So now every single time I accidentally hear a Milli Vanilli song, I am transported back to that Nissan Pathfinder and the four-day drive. However, I don’t think that CD ever found the inside of a CD player after that trip.

It happened again, just a few days ago. I was driving out of Anchorage, just leaving a couple of days of work meetings, meetings where I had just turned in my two-week notice. I had a piping hot Americano, no hair, a very conservative Chevy Trailblazer, and like always from May to August, a ton of traffic on the Seward Highway heading out of Anchorage. It didn’t matter to me though, because my head was elsewhere, not on my driving or the traffic, or the two and half hour drive ahead. Instead I kept thinking over and over, what did I just do? Was I sure about this? Is this right? I had these tiny little doubts creeping deep into my pyschi, and I didn’t like it. My iphone was not plugged into the car, so I turned on the radio which happened to be on 88.5, and a song had just come on. It was a song I had never heard, a song I probably would’ve never noticed, but instantly it caught my attention, and without thinking I twisted the black knob to the right to confirm what I was hearing. Again, not my style of music, again not a song that would’ve ever ended up on any of my playlists, but at the right time in the right situation it was perfect. The lyrics I heard said, ” When the waves are taking you under, hold on just a little bit longer, he knows this is going to make you stronger, stronger”. Those lyrics slapped me like a flounder across the face, snapped me out of a funk and erased the temporary doubt that was trying to cloud my hope. I will admit, although I was driving at max speed limit, I was still able to download that song before Girdwood and play it over and over again on my drive home to prepare for our last month in Alaska.

It was a pouring rain Saturday, a miserable day by any Alaskan’s standard sans the salmon. One of those days where the rain pounded so hard of the dark wet asphalt that the drops that missed you jumped up from the asphalt to bite you in the leg. It was of course the day I had chosen to empty our shed; for a few days prior we had found out that it was sitting on the electrical easement, right where the electric company HAD to put the box. The options; move the shed or get rid of the shed. My inclination was to sell it and have someone else move it. So Ryan and I began the task of moving the mounds of “stuff” from the shed to the garage. I must admit that I was somewhat embarrassed and ashamed of the stuff we just had to store. I know I took at least a truck load directly to the dump. Finally after a few hours the shed was empty and ready to be displayed to a potential buyer. Sure it was a little crooked, but there had to be someone out there that needed a 16X12 crooked tongue and groove shed. Right? I mean people in this state got a lot of stuff. Just then, as we loaded up for our dump run Jason shows up, presumably to help but I suspect that he wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting rid of any good stuff he might need. That’s when the trouble began.

You see now there are three men of action sitting around looking at a leaning shed,  a worthless leaning shed. It took but a second for Jason to convince us that the shed was worthless and that it would be impossible to move without destroying it and instead we should tear it down. Well that sounded way too fun to resist, and without any planning, safety briefing, or permit, we found some straps hooked em up to the old Suburban and began to tear down that shed.

I can’t say things didn’t go as planned, because there was no planning, but they didn’t go as expected. Further, that darn worthless shed, crooked as piece of Homer driftwood, was stinking hard to destroy. It took several takes and many different tactics before we got her off her skids and drug her right in the middle of our driveway. Now what? We were stuck, the driveway was blocked, and the shed looked sturdier than ever. After several attempts to flip it over, it was time for old blue to roar to life. We got my truck running, full of trash mind you, and I proceeded to use it as a battering ram to knock the shed over. I have blogged about my truck in the past, it is blue, it is damaged, it is loud and it is a 5 speed manual, or what you would call a man’s truck and it begs to be used for more than dump runs. So as I sat in the seat I could feel the engine vibrating through my hand which sat on the shift handle. I gave the engine a few good deep revs and proceeded to back right into the shed. With each attempt I gained more confidence until finally I was able to go hard and fast enough to push it over the edge, without destroying old blue.  Much better,we then had a crushed shed in the middle of our driveway.

This was a time to plan, over a cup of coffee and some cupcakes of course. The plan was to start cutting, ripping, smashing and tearing and we would load it on a trailer and take it to the dump. Again, contrary to our so-called plans, Jason decides half way into the plan that this shed needs a fire. So after some prodding I provided him with my favorite fire starter. Within 1/2 hour he had two fires going, and one was big enough to be seen from space. So now we had a smashed shed, power tools, fire and rain. It doesn’t get any better than that. Cutting, ripping, smashing, breaking, throwing, burning repeat, and so the rest of the day went. Of course we had to eat so there was a chicken taco break, candy, cupcakes and a smorgasbord of smores. But hey, we could indulge after all we just got done shedding a couple hundred pounds. Did I mention there was video?

So as the adults sat inside chatting and eating, we started hearing some “music” coming from outside. I snuck out to investigate and what I saw was a garage band, or more literally an outside the garage band. Jace had taken lead on the guitar, Ben had started drumming (which I did not know he could do or I would not have sold the drums) Kayden had grabbed some maracas and Jo/ Livy was playing the keyboard, all outside the garage. And the shocker of it all, it actually sounded pretty decent, at least as good as some of the videos I have seen on YouTube. The best part, it was an impromptu jam, which has never happened at our house, unless you include Tracy and I screaming Air Supply songs at the top of our lungs, which if done in the right room are quite touching. It actually made me feel like we were the “cool house” even more than usual.

I know, I know what does this have to do with soaking wet dead rabbits!? Well, you see during all this Livy and Livy were up to something, sneaking around the house. We could tell the two animal lovers were trying to accomplish some wilderness adventure, and soon we found out what it was. They had found a dead rabbit near the neighbor’s house and decided to carry it around and show people. It was quite a lovely endeavor for two pretty young ladies, and pretty much right up their alley. Immediately we yelled at them to throw that thing away, the same way we did with the dead birds, dead mice, dead hamsters and dead critter they had found over the years.

Then, at some point Angie was commenting about the day and mentioned those darn girls and that “soaking wet dead rabbit”. Instantly it struck me, that is the name of the band. They sound, look, and were born on the day of the “soaking wet dead rabbit”. So stay tuned to your YouTube, iTunes and Zune because very soon I predict the first single will be released of the Soaking Wet Dead Rabbits, followed by a live concert at our place. You’ll just have to dodge a few dead animals along the way.  And if it goes well, I predict an Air Supply cover band will soon follow, with yours truly as the lead.

Until then, please for you to enjoy, the first two songs combined into one, from the Soaking Wet Dead Rabbits ( with special guest Jrew Dee on vocals)

This one was discovered by my wife, and if you recall, kids are not immune. This is not our kid, but it is a kid, and although she is not in physical pain, she is in deep emotional pain. You will get the gist of the video in the first minute, but it is worthwhile  to watch until the end. I see some very challenging teen years in her future. I also predict that sometime during the video Niki will say “awww”.

However, I like my moral: If you’re gonna have wings and not fly, you better have a plan B.

Please for you to enjoy.