Some Random Thoughts...

First off, I would like to make a retraction of sorts. The conference last week, which I referred to as a "dork/germ-fest" wasn't that bad. Well, it was a germ-fest, and the fact I got sick probably annoyed me enough to call it "dork-fest." But I kind of take that part back. I met a lot of nice folks there and it's unfair to them. You structure dorks aren't included in this retraction; you know what you did & you deserve being called dorks.

My only true annoyance is what we called "amateur drinkers" in the bar business. These are the people that only come out to two or three big drinking events over the course of the year, typically Super Bowl, St. Patrick's Day, New Year's Eve, and, locally, Harvest Jazz & Blues in Fredericton, and, of course, Round-Up this past week. It's a combination of things: you can't handle your alcohol, you act like you're on shore leave for the first time in 6 months (in essence, you are...), you're typically rude to the regular customers & serving staff, and you don't tip. I saw a lot of this at the conference, so, in my haste, I judged the entire conference by this. For that, I apologize to the "normals" that were there.

Now, on to the fun stuff.

I've said it before to people, but I'm making it known to everyone here: I love my fucking job. I do. Today I was totally reminded of it. I can't think of another job I would want to have.....except maybe studying beach erosion in the Caribbean ....but that's probably hard to come by. But this one's alright, almost every day you get to do fun stuff like this:

Anyway, just today, I realized I'm going to have to learn three new software programs (MapInfo + Discover, MSAccess, and a yet-to-be-named core logging program) as soon as possible. I'm serious when I say that this is awesome....this isn't like that "school-learning;" this stuff is useful and practical. Also, we found out we're doing another short conference this weekend, the World Outlook Conference. This one should be easy: "my outlook is good" will be said many times this weekend. And if I can pull that statement off while wearing my Hawaiian shirt, even better!

We're also getting ready to head back to the field, which pumps me up. On our way there, we might be making a cameo appearance at the PDAC, which will be really good times if Capital O shows up. If the schedule works out, I might try to swing through Fredericton on my way back to Vancouver.....or possibly meet up with my uncles for a week or two on the Labrador-San Juan-Vancouver loop....now you know why my outlook is good.

Another random thought: On my walk home tonight, I stopped in at the local convenience store for a pack of Halls to combat the lingering effects of Germ-Fest. The man in front of me was buying about $40 worth of lottery tickets. It occurred to me that there are basically two types of gamblers in the world: one type occasionally uses it as a form of entertainment (i.e. me), the other uses it as a potential ticket to easy street (that guy).

I started thinking about what I would do if I ever won or came into a million dollars. I can honestly say I wouldn't change too much with my life: pay off my student loan & my truck loan, send my folks & nan on a nice trip wherever they wanted to go, make sure my little brothers got all the tuition money they needed to do whatever it is they want to do, and definitely give the Loyalist club a sizable donation. I'd definitely keep working. But I'd definitely throw a couple parties.....maybe end up like one of these guys:






F**kin' A!

My First AMEBC Round-Up: Running Blog, Part 3

I guess you can call this post the Round-Up Wrap-Up. The conference finished up on Thursday with the final technical talks and the last day for the trade show booths. I'll be honest with you: this thing was exhausting. I've been on week-long road-trips and benders that didn't wipe me out as much as this thing did. Anyway, it's over and now we get to prep for our return to field work that is fast approaching.

Highlights from the last few days of the conference:

• Booth duty on Tuesday was somewhat of a soul-destroying endeavour. I had sales people coming up to me and offering everything imaginable: editing services, geophysical surveys, aircraft charters, etc. My three favourites were the offer of building me a deep-water port, a railroad, and asking if I needed to buy a tug boat & barge. I told them I had parking issues in my neighbourhood and couldn't purchase it at this time
• I was lucky enough to be one of the geologists invited to our company's reception (i.e. schmooz-fest) at the Canucks game Tuesday night. It was a good time, though the Canucks lost in a shoot-out. This also meant that I keep my streak of attending games in luxury boxes at three games. I could get used to that.
• Attending the game was one of the big stock promoters/analysts of our company. This in itself isn't a big deal, but it's funny as he is my uncle's best friend and former university roommate. In fact, he initiated my dad into residence. When we first met a year and some ago while he was on a tour of our project area, he said, "You're Matthew! I held you on my knee when you were a baby!" My response: "Yeah, well, you won't be doing that again...." Joking aside, this does show you how small of a world it really is.
• On my walk to booth duty on Wednesday morning, I was trying to sum up the strength to make it through another day of people trying to sell me stuff. Just then, two nice elderly ladies stopped me and handed me information on how Jesus can be with me through adversity. This could have been taken as a sign. My take on it: everyone, even Jesus, wants a piece of me.
• Wednesday night was Alaska Night, with more free swill flowing than ever before. I coughed up for the $8/oz Skyy vodka; I respect my taste buds too much to drink that draft. There were no security checkpoints for conference badges either, so everyone and their dog off the street was at this event. It was here that I received my favourite job offer of the conference: "You're from New Brunswick?? I got me four of them crazy bastards working for me; they're me four best workers! You ever looking for a job, call me!" The position being offered: heavy equipment operator. The heaviest equipment that I have ever operated is a 40 oz bottle of rum.
• This is what I got out of one of the technical sessions: Gold prices are going to go up, the US dollar is over-valued, Nickel prices are going to remain stable, Copper prices are going to steadily rise, and Uranium is going to go way up. Nobody ever listens to my market analysis; they say "If it's such a sure thing, why don't you invest?" I'll tell you why: I personally couldn't buy a sick whore an orange right now, or else I would. So if you finally listen to me, and make your fortunes, buy me a beer sometime.
• I woke up Friday somewhat ill from this dork/germ-fest. Probably the sick jack-ass from Asia that I mentioned in the first post. I'm probably patient-zero for North America for some new strain of the Spanish-Asian-Avian-SARS-flu....Precautions were taken, with a lot of hand-washing and an industrial-sized bottle of Purell at the booth, but I guess it wasn't enough. Awesome, I tell you......awesome....

Now, onto the portion of the blog that everyone wants to know about: the saga of the cute dark haired girl and the results of the poll question, Should I be good or evil?

• So I went up to talk to the cute dark haired girl. This, as most of you who really know me, is a big deal (i.e. no vodka, in daylight, etc.). It turns out the poll was fairly irrelevant: she, in no way possible, would ever be asking me for a job, and she's not a student. She definitely wasn't mistaking me for the Mat/Matt that hires people. She's a career woman, and probably a couple years older than me (she hides that really well....I thought she was 24-ish...). If anything, I should be asking her to be my sugar-mama. That was a curve ball thrown when I wasn't expecting it.....I'm so confused to what to do now. She's probably a little more refined than what I'm used to. Could this be the end of the lovable dirtball?
• Now, as for the responses to the poll: WHAT THE HELL DID I EVER DO TO YOU PEOPLE FOR YOU TO HAVE SUCH A LOW OPINION OF ME??? Almost everyone one of the responses went for "evil," but not only that, some of you imply that this is the only version of me that exists. I obviously have to do some public image work. Sarah, I know I wrote "Mat was here" on your inner thigh for your BF to find, but that was for fun...not evil...good, clean fun! And the rest of you.....WTF???

I'm going to ponder my existence & place in the world due to these poll responses, and also try to find a PR firm to help me out. Stay tuned.

My First AMEBC Round-Up: Running Blog, Part 2

Round-Up 2007 got into full swing today. Booths and posters are up, people are schmoozing full throttle, and people are drinking the free draft like it was the greatest thing ever.

A quick aside, Bill Simmons, mentioned in my last post as the inspiration behind this series, decided to horn in on my racket, stealing my fans, and start his daily Super Bowl week blog (you can read it here). I doubt he's having as much fun in Miami as I am here.

Here are the recent highlights:

• This will probably rank as one of my top moments of 2007 for pure strangeness. I attended a technical session today entitled "Community Support: How to get there." It concerned working in Aboriginal communities, and had speakers including the BC Minister of Aboriginal Relations & Reconciliation, the Premier of Nunavut, and the Grand Chief of the First Nations Summit of BC. After the talk, I was outside enjoying some fresh air when the Premier of Nunavut, the Right Honorable Paul Okalik came out for a cigarette. We started chatting, and he asked me what I do. I barely got the word "uranium" out of my mouth when he told me that Nunavut has some very good uranium prospects, I should come visit them, and that he "can't wait to get it out of the ground and trucked away." After mentioning several meetings he recently had with various companies about the prospects, he looks through the window at all the booths and says, "What companies are handing out neat free stuff? Where can I find them? And not pens either. I have enough pens!" He then tossed his cigarette on the ground (we were five feet from an ashtray) and goes inside. I felt that if I would have ran to my office and got him a company fleece jacket, coffee cup & memory stick, I would be probably sitting on a million acres of prime real estate in Nunavut.


• Tonight I was asked by our VP if I was wearing my Hawaiian shirt to the booth. Could I have sensed encouragement & hope in his question? Probably not, but it's good to dream....


• Dorks Gone Wild continued tonight, with free swill from 4:30 - 6:30 as the afternoon "wrap up." Whatever in hell they have to wrap up, I don't know. Some of these twits have been drinking since noon. This was followed by "Yukon Night," with free swill from 7-10.


• One thing I don't understand is why in the name of Christ would students get falling down drunk at a conference with about 500 potential future employers.....fucking ridiculous. I have an idea. Wait in line for 10 minutes for the free swill. Bring me or other geologists the swill. Get us falling down drunk. After we give you a business card, go back to wherever the hell you came from and get falling down drunk with your friends & away from people that might be signing your pay cheque in three months time.


• We had a small UNB reunion of sorts.....three of us were sitting on a table, checking out broads, drinking the booze.


• I laughed as a structure dork fell up the escalator. And not at the top or bottom, either. How the hell does that happen?!


• As per my hopes and dreams, an impromptu free vodka reception (for me anyway) occurred tonight, courtesy of our drill company's foreman & his corporate credit card. Good times. At $8 a shot, I was almost forced to drink the free swill, but this guy came through....big time! And I didn't even have to go get them, he just kept bringing them! Good times indeed!


• At $8 a shot, you would think it would be good vodka but it was Skyy. Skyy is ok, but it's not $8/shot ok, unless you're in a strip club, and a nice one at that. I wasn't in a strip club of any kind. I was at Dork Fest 2007; they should have given me $8 for every drink I stayed for.


• BUT....with the vodka came courage, and I finally introduced myself to the cute dark haired girl. Unfortunately, she might think I'm the other Mat...or Matt...in the company....the one that hires people.....An internal battle of good and evil is now taking place within me. Alas, what to do? Actually, this can be the first ever Core Blogging Fan Participation Poll!!! The question is: Should I be good or evil? Post your answers in the comments section.

More to come soon, booth duty starts tomorrow. And remember to take part in the poll!

My First AMEBC Round-Up: Running Blog, Part 1

This weekend I'm attending the Association for Mineral Exploration British Columbia's Round-up conference for the first time. It runs from Friday, January 27th, through to February 1st. It's "the World's LARGEST technical mineral exploration conference" and, as such, it attracts all types. I'm going to pass along my thoughts on the whole racket, stealing an idea from ESPN's Bill Simmons, in a somewhat "running diary" form. As usual, names are excluded to protect....well, me & my job.

• First off: there's a pile o' hot broads at this thing. At UNB, we had a few cute chicks floating around the geology department, but here....wow. Kinda hard to concentrate on short courses on structural geology & NI43-101...which is hard to concentrate on at the best of times (more on that below).
• This whole conference is run on beer. Everything you hear all day is about beer. There are free beer "receptions" at the end of every afternoon session. It's not even good beer....it's draft beer, but people go crazy over it. Total amateur hour. It's like Dorks Gone Wild. But if they can combine the hot broads with the gone wild part of that.... If they only had a free vodka reception some day. I might be able to go talk to the cute dark haired girl....
• It's also a big schmooz-fest. A lot of companies recruiting, a lot of students looking for work. In a related aside, the other day I received an e-mail from my project manager with the subject line "Fishing trips at Round-up." I'm not lying when I say I was pretty disappointed when I opened the e-mail and it concerned other companies possibly trying to recruit us. I also felt pretty stupid for saying "Shit! I left my fishing rod in Postville!" in the office in front of the accountants
• This idea isn't my own, but I've really adopted it: these conferences are a mixing pot of germs & viruses, with some fairly gross people spread throughout the damn thing. A lot of the old "wipe & shake" going on (wiping the nose with the right hand, then shaking someones hand). As it is "the World's LARGEST technical mineral exploration conference," nobody wants to miss it so they show up sick. "Oh, you just flew in from Asia for this...oh, and you're coughing into your hand...yes, I'm Mat....nice to meet you....now, where's the Purell, you sick prick?"
• I overheard someone say that our company "has more money than brains." Personally, I was a little insulted because my bank account is pretty low right now. A sure sign that I'm mellowing out: the old me would've said "we could hire four Stephen Hawkings and we'd still have more money than brains, douchebag. Jealous?" but instead, I flipped my name badge over and walked to another table.
• I did a short course on Friday about National Instrument 43-101, which is a series of regulations enacted to prevent another BRE-X from happening. The course certainly made me appreciate what my vice-president signs his name to & what he's liable for. But sweet blessed Jesus, what a boring topic...the three presenters definitely weren't Conan O'Brien & friends either. It's really hard to take anything seriously when certain words ("consent" and especially "JORK") are repeated over and over again. I dreamed of turning into Jules from Pulp Fiction: "Say JORK again! Say it, mothaf**ka!"
• It's somewhat reassuring...or maybe it's not reassuring at all...that "structure dorks" are pervasive throughout the fabric of the industry. Structure dorks are those people who had brilliant marks on all tests and assignments in university, but are: A) totally inept with any field work whatsoever; and B) have a general lack of common sense. Usually they exhibit both A & B. This was demonstrated once again by the genius in the structural geology short course who had a really, really difficult time trying to figure out how to tie his shoelace while having a coffee in his hand. PS -For you structure dorks reading this: it's usually better to set the coffee down first.
• This, my friends, is not the best song to be singing to yourself while at the conference. But it's still one of the best of 2006.
• Of the two days so far, more people came up and asked me about my project/company/etc when I was looking like a hungover bum (hoodie, ballcap, unshaven, etc.) than when I was trying to pretend to be corporate (collared shirt). I'm going to try to get everyone to wear Hawaiian shirts for the booth.
• Yes, we have booth duty coming up later this week as well. Booth duty sounds like a blast: you essentially stand there while people (i.e. structure dorks) pepper you with questions about your project. You really have to be careful on what to say due to disclosure regulations, and you want to know your geology to as to not look like a fool. I have a plan though. I'm going to read up on all my information to make sure I know it well, and our VP is giving us a cheat sheet on what can be disclosed.
• Failing that, I'm going to teach my self to juggle, wear a Hawaiian shirt and say "I'm unable to answer that at this time.....but who wants to watch me juggle?"

More to come as Round-Up 2007 progresses.....

The (mis)communication age

I have an exam in a couple days and should be studying, so I thought this would be an ideal time to post another tale. But first, a little aside.

Since my last posting, I have turned thirty (and have minimal plans of growing up soon); been offered a career (which I have accepted); Scott & Nicki had a beautiful baby girl, Sophie Nicole; Jonesy has topped out on Mount Kilimanjaro; Aaen was taken clothes shopping; and I am now approximately 12 days from my last exam at UNB....ever. And I got kinda hammered. A few times. I'm sorry if my legions of fans have gotten a little impatient waiting for another story of mis-adventure, but I do actually have a life outside of this BS. So bite me.

In recognition my new career, which will take me back to the far reaches of Labrador, I decided to lend a little insight to life there. In particular, a story of cultures and languages.

Last June, I embarked on a journey to find some uranium. Shortly after arriving in the town of Postville, NL (population: 220), a chunk of my bottom wisdom tooth broke off. I was mildly surprised at this, but, as there was no immediate pain involved, I didn't think too much of it and just planned to have it looked at on my first roll-out six weeks away.

A couple weeks pass and my tooth begins to hurt a little bit, first with sweet foods, then with hot & cold beverages, then with chewing in general. I just attempt to adjust my eating habits accordingly & try rinsing and brushing more frequently. I just didn't want this causing any wrinkles in the project plan. You see, I was treating this contract like a very, very long job interview and really wanted to prove my worth to this company because I wanted a job when I was done school. I just tried to tough it out.

Bad idea. The gums get infected, leading to a sinus infection, which in turn leads to me not being able to lay down to sleep. I go 11 nights without sleeping, taking upwards of 25 regular strength Tylenol to attempt to get through the days. There are no doctors & dentists in Postville. And the sale of alcohol is prohibited. Yes, you read that correctly. Prohibited.

Eventually the logistics manager tells me that they can't have me hopping in and out of a helicopter everyday with no sleep. This was more of a liability issue on their part more than a "I was in extreme goddamned agony" issue. There was a chartered plane coming in to Postville to take the Pres & VP of the company, some rock samples, and me to Happy Valley-Goose Bay. Judy, our admin. person from Postville, made me an appointment for 3:30 PM at a dentist's office there.

Now if there is ever a place that has a more misleading name than Happy Valley-Goose Bay, please let me know. It's not that friggin' happy there, and I didn't see any geese. In fact, if Canada was going to receive an enema, I'm quite sure it would be inserted in Happy Valley-Goose Bay. I don't really like it there, and would dislike it more before the day was done.

After a few hours of errands, I walked into the dentist's office at 3:25PM. The dentist was at the reception desk doing paper work. He was Indian (the kind from India) and briefly thought to myself that, if I thought there was a little culture shock for me in Labrador, this guy must've had a hell of a surprise when he arrived in town.

I introduce myself as the 3:30 appointment, Trevors. He replied to me, in a very thick Indian accent, that the office was closed. I tell him that there must be some mistake, our admin. person confirmed my appointment for 3:30. He denies this, and states that there is no way his receptionist/wife would make an appointment for 3:30 on a Saturday.

Then it dawns on me: what happens when you have someone who barely speaks English with a thick Indian accent trying to speak English to someone who speaks English with a thick Labradorian accent? I'll tell you what happens.

What happens is that Dr. Death gets me to assist on my own wisdom tooth extraction, as his dental assistants are gone for the day. And he doesn't give me barely any anaesthetic, saying he needs me "to be aware" of what is happening. And he's pissed off because he's late for his family dinner. And he reefs on my tooth for 45 minutes. And when he's done, he's in a hurry and "forgets" to prescribe me any painkillers....or wipe off all the blood on my face and neck.

Funny thing is, I drove around doing errands for three hours, not realizing I had blood all over my face, and not a single solitary soul I spoke with in Happy Valley-Goose Bay found this at all alarming.

Happy my ass......

The Hawaiian Chronicles

Hawai'i was good times; got to see a lot of stuff: craters, beaches, giant sea turtles, large Polynesian women, old lava flows, etc. We also might have had a beer or two......

After a month or two of relative inactivity, Pele, the goddess of fire on Kilauea volcano awoke with a bit of fury the day we left for Hawai'i, with new, fresh lava flows. This resulted in a change of our itinerary so we could take in a guided hike, in an area closed off to the public, to see some flowing lava.....the red stuff....like on Discovery Channel....

So, in our dorkish, excited state, on the night before we set out on this hike, we decided our best course of action would be to hammer many cans of beer and the better part of a quart and a half of vodka until 4 AM or so.

Not unlike Pele, I have been relatively inactive for a month or two and have become quite the fat bastard. And this hike was taking place at 1PM, and it was god-damned HOT. And the hike took place on older lava flows.....which are colored black when cooled. Add in the heat from the flowing lava (1150 degrees Celsius), the sulfuric gas fumes, and the stank of my booze-soaked body, and I was in for some real good times.

So we quickly fell into a good marching order, with the Native Hawaiian guide leading the way, Aaen directly behind him, and me following. Joe, the prof, was right behind (and unfortunately downwind of) me, with the rest of the group strung out in single file a bit behind. The guide was fairly pumped at the pace we were keeping in comparison to his normal groups of cruise-line passengers (his quote: "newly-wed, over-fed, and nearly dead"). We stopped upon reaching the vicinity of the lava tubes (under the surface of varying thickness cooled lava).

The guide turns and tells us to stay put, and if he goes "through the roof, don't move" and to wait for the other guide to come and lead us out. We get the go-ahead and start moving to follow when I hear a horrifying crunch under my feet......

I fall approximately 2 inches through a small "bubble" in the rock. Alarmed, Aaen responds by turning and POKING ME IN MY GUT!!

Now, in the best of situations, I don't particularly care to be poked in the gut; I know I have a gut, other people know I have a gut, and after wearing no shirt on the whole trip, all of god-damned Hawai'i knows I have a gut (fortunately I look skinny in comparison to the large Polynesians.....). I felt close enough to death on this hike due to the booze, without taking the fucking lava into account, so I didn't really need the gut poke to be reminded.......

Anyway, the guide leads us to a "skylight" in the lava tube, where the molten rock is flowing at 35 miles per hour. It was wild. After everybody got their pics in, the guide takes off again, with Aaen and I in close pursuit. We were travelling parallel the lava tube, sometimes crossing over it. At one point the guide stops for a moment, looks around, and calmly states, "Umm, we better go this way...." Being a month away from finally finishing this degree, I was quick to follow.

Ten minutes or so later, the guide stops, looks around and starts waving his arm and tells us to be quiet. We stop moving, don't say a word, and wait.

A few seconds pass, he's cocking his head one way to another, and then he says "This way!" and takes off over an embankment of old flow. Aaen and I turn to each other with the mutual look of "what the fuck?" and clamber after him.

On the other side of the embankment was fresh lava flowing on the surface.

Pacey once posted that they say Norwegians can hear snow falling.

Apparently Native Hawaiians can hear lava flowing.

Of smuggled rum and (replica) flintlock pistols.....

Ahhh....the Caribbean: soft sand, warm water and cool breezes.... good times to be had.... unless, of course, you get nagged about EVERYTHING....

So I'm getting ready to head down to Hawai'i for March Break for a school trip. This one should be pretty good, gonna check out some volcanoes and different beaches, make it educational as well as entertaining. But, as I'm doing some laundry and packing up few things, I'm flashing back to last year, when the Trevors family went to San Juan on their first family vacation.

First of all, I should clarify: we've done family vacations before when I was younger (I wasn't really "planned" & was an only child until age 11), and since then, both of my little brothers got to go to Disneyworld.....but this was the first one with all the whole family.....and most likely the last one.

San Juan has been a family destination for the better part of 40 years, starting with my Uncle John and his buddies back in the 60's. Since then, my dad and my uncles and their pals have been down there a lot (Uncle John has missed 3 years in total I believe). So we have some history there.......

Well, my mom (who I love dearly & is a great mother and lady), while traveling can be most accurately described as a "paranoid pessimist." In addition, she likes being in control.....a lot. As many of you know, once you check into an airport, the last thing you are is in control.....this didn't bode well.

If a check-in time is recommended two hours before the flight.....we're there four hours prior. We're all going to get shot by the security personnel......because I'm wearing a hat.....even though they're Canadian and unarmed. My discman is going to cause a plane to crash.....while I'm in the airport. I'm going to get strip-searched.....because I'm taking a Tim's coffee through security. And so on and so forth.

We all make our way to the pre-boarding screening, we all get through.....except mom. She has to have the portable metal detector waved over her.....no big deal, right? Not on your life.......this is the "most embarrassing thing ever" to occur to her and she's trying to look to see if anyone she knows witnesses this as she doesn't want the "news" to hit the Miramichi. We eventually board the plane and make it to Puerto Rico.

Well, the week in San Juan goes by (incidents occuring will be covered in future posts) and we'll fast-forward to the airport in San Juan when we leave. As most of you know, Puerto Rico is an American protectorate, operating under the same Customs and Immigration laws as the rest of the continental U.S. , thereby the "importing goods to Canada" rules are the same. The kicker is that it's in the friggin' Caribbean and that means good goddamned rum.......I like rum, and so do my friends.....I bought a bottle each for Aaen and Nick but I can only bring one across. My parents aren't drinkers though; this could work out....one of them could bring a bottle across for me, right?

Well, sweet gentle Jesus......you woulda thought I asked my mother to take part in a Satanic ritual. Dad, of course, had no problems whatsoever taking a bottle of rum for his soon-to-be 29 year-old son's friend.....crap, he was taking cigars for his 17 year-old son's friends.

We get to the security screening and mom was still at me: "I can't believe you're making your father do this....what if he ends up in jail? Do you think he's your mule? And after everything he's done for you......." Well, American airport security guards are a little on edge at the best of times, and hearing this exchange had perked their ears up a little more. Plus, unlike their Canadian counterparts, they do have guns. So I was trying to ignore my mom.....like she was an abandoned crazy lady.....

I get through security, as well as Greg (the 17 year old). Mom and dad are a few people behind Alex (12 year old) when he was going through when a crew of security moved quickly to huddle at a screen on the baggage x-ray.

"WHO"S BAG IS THIS?" one of them demanded.

Alex, quiet as ever, raises his hand as I walk over. I explain that he is my little brother and that his was the bag in question. They unzip the bag and haul out a replica 17th century flintlock pirate's pistol.

Now, in reality, Osama Bin Laden himself could haul that gun out on a plane and I would piss myself laughing. Basically throw some obese cruise passenger from Minnesota in front of the "musket ball" and then everyone could take turns kicking Osama in the nuts as he spent five minutes reloading it......this should've been a good laugh by all involved, the security guards included.

But, after the last nine days of hearing "Matthew! What are you doing?" to pretty much everything I did during waking hours, my response was probably building up & waiting to be released for some time. I turned to my mother and said, "You nag me about everything yet you allow your youngest son have a replica pistol in his carry-on? Nice work."

I didn't get a birthday hug when they dropped me off the next day..........

Stay tuned, hopefully have a posting en direct from Hawai'i! Later!