Glen Price Rants

My Own Lil' Place to Vent

2009 Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony In Martinsburg, West Virginia

For those of you who’ve ever been a part of something truly magical at Christmastime, take a look here. I can honestly say that we’ll remember this for a long, long, long time… and can’t wait for our lil’ rugrat to become a part of this tradition.

Also, here’s a cool little video of us going through Downtown Martinsburg, while getting Biscuit warmed up for Santa and Mrs. Claus’s arrival:

Special thanks to Brad at for shooting these videos and helping us out.

The DC Metro These Days

So, the other day, a friend of mine Twitters:

#mseekfor: To the inconsiderate people on metro this morning: you truly suck.

So, of course, I start paying attention… and dammit, she’s friggin right!!!

We’ve all seen the annoying-as-hell “passive aggressive” idiots that spring up. They’re the ones that say “excuse me, sorry…” as they push and wedge your ass out of the way. (On a side note, you’ll notice that they’re usually under 5′ 3″ tall, and are using the ‘gotta get low to play fullback’ theory to their advantage).

But, back to my rant…

Nowadays, especially with the Red line being a modern-day cluster-eff, people just don’t have the patience anymore. With times of 15-18 minutes in between Red line cars, you can’t blame people for wanting to jam themselves in. They’ve got MARC and VRE trains to catch out of Union.

So, here’s what I’m saying… let’s add a few friggin trains to the Red line, WMATA, that way I don’t have to bitchslap some midget trying to throw a chopblock on me (that’s when you take someone out at the knees) trying to hop a train.

More Trains = Patient People

Much like red signs and lights = traffic … but that’s a whole ‘nother rant.

Good God, It’s Humid

WOW, I know it’s only 75 degrees (or so) outside, but I just can’t believe how friggin’ humid it is. I’m constantly wiping and “squeegeeing” (yes, that’s a word, our office “Hoya Boy” just looked it up).

Here I am, in my mid-30’s, and all of a sudden I’m sounding like an old man. I have to walk only about 4-5 blocks to the GSA Building from the metro. However, by the time I get there, I’m totally soaked with sweat. Oh yeah, I’m sweatin’ like a beach full of albinos. For you all doing the math, that’s reciprocates, because at the end of the day, I have to head back to the metro. Worse even, because I’m walking up-hill. Yes, it’s cardio. Yes, I know exercise is good for me.

But, back to my point. I remember bitching and griping when it hits 95 degrees outside. Heck I’ve always done that (even when i was in high school). But, I’m realizing it’s not the heat that makes it miserable… it’s the damn humidity. And, when you’re walking in between the buildings of the Washington D.C. streets, there’s no breeze either.

So, you’re just miserable… and sweating your butt off doing it. You wonder why city-folks are miserable in the city… that’s why. They’re miserably hot!!!

What’s really bugging me, though, is that I’m becoming one of those people who says “it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity”.

So, here are my questions:

  • If the temp is 80, and heat index is 95… then why not just say IT’S 95!!!
  • What is the difference between “heat index” and “wind chill”?
  • When do the weatherpeople make that changeover? They NEVER talk about both, do they?
  • Why do old people head to florida (aka, God’s Waiting Room), when it’s so friggin hot and humid?
  • Why not head north, at least there’s a fireplace during the winters?
  • Is it the asphalt that makes it so hot in the city?

My Own Personal Assistant

As Branson and I were driving back from the Richmond NASCAR races, we got to talking about the “powerball special” (btw, that’s your to-do list when you hit Powerball). We got back to the whole idea of how I’d love to have a Personal Assistant for one year.

Now, I’m not saying that my PA has to do all of these him/herself. I just want someone to arrange it for me. I don’t expect to come outside and see him/her with a washrag In their hand – I’m not looking for slavedom. I just want to pay someone 30-40k/year to just remove the stress from my everyday “maintenance”. When you have the “powerball special” sitting in your bank/ira/retirement/cd account, you can pay someone else to:

  • pay my bills on time
  • make sure there’s food stocked In the fridge/pantry for when I want to cook
  • make sure my harley’s clean and gassed up when I ride
  • make sure our cars/trucks are clean and gassed up when we drive
  • make sure the john deere is cleaned up, blades sharpened, and gassed up
  • make sure the 4-wheeler is cleaned and gassed up
  • make travel arrangements via hotwire, etc.
  • have google map directions waiting for when we roadtrip
  • arrange for Nascar tickets from scalpers for when we arrive trackside
  • arrange for the parking for my “new” camper and rig
  • arrange for Biscuit and Ginny (and their harnesses/wagon) to be clean for parade day

… and these are just the ones off the top of my head. there are LOTS of everyday stressful things that I’d love to just take off my plate, so I can focus on the normal everyday things I’d love to do.

At this point in the game, I’d probably like to go into basic farming. If money was no issue, then, yeah, I’d love to just suit up the horses on weekends and take a wagon-full of corn, potatoes, ‘maters, lettuce, into town to sell – right off the back of a horse-drawn wagon.

How COOL would that be? I mean, why not??? How nice would it be to actually have a lifestyle that’s ACTUALLY fun and stress free?

A Successful Weekend

Well, we made it back home after a long, looooooong, exhausting weekend which consisted of:

  • a bonfire-sized luncheon with Tara’s friend, Sharon
  • a Hagerstown Suns ballgame, which gave Tara a great peanut story
  • 3hr harley trip (ending with a flat tire)
  • 2hr fix-it session repairing my horse trailer
  • 3hr road trip to drop off the horses in Kutztown, Pennsylvania
  • 2hr trip to visit dad, accessorize his Ultra, and watch the Nascar race at Phoenix
  • 2hr shopping trip to Best Buy and Kohl’s
  • 2hr visit to mom’s for a “steamed shrimp ‘n salad” lunch
  • 2hr long long, rainy ride home

All-in-all, we got home safe. Call it a success.

Now… when exactly do we get to relax?

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