The Evolution of "All Hands on Deck"

IMG_4335.JPGBy AARON TURNER Hill Billy Editor

GREY EAGLE -- Cousin Todd Martin has a gift for coming up with unique games, games usually designed around his own ability to win. Saturday at Big Birch Lake, he took a big swing ... and missed. At the sprawling Lake located in Central Minnesota, the Johnson family is blessed with lake-front property and several cabins. Out in front of some of their beach-front, sits a home-made raft, nicely built of 2x6 lumber on 55-gallon blue plastic drums, chained to the bottom and affixed some 20 feet off shore. (Webmaster's note: See photo Above) It's there that Martin had his first go-round with game-making. He called the game "Pontoon Platform Police." The game was crude, if not a touch fun. There was one officer located under the raft. There's nearly 18 inches of clearance from water level to the joists. The jailbreakers had to start at the ladder, and after a five-second headstart, the police would begin the search. Contestants would try to circle the raft, keeping in contact with either the raft or the drums underneath. The officer would then try to touch each breaker and the one that made it all the way around would begin as the police in the next round. The game bombed. However, from that game blossomed pure genious. Martin and Matt Bever brainstormed and came up with the best name yet, "All Hands on Deck." Some wanted to use that name for "Pontoon Platform Police," yet they held off. On the next day, "a major step in the evolution raft games," as Bever said, occured. Cousin Aaron Turner found a whiffle ball on the beach, and from that simple discovery came the present and future of raft games from now until eternity. With the simple addition, many hours sifted by. The premise was similar, only the police officer started with the ball and contestants could start from any position on the raft with the corners being the most coveted spot. The officer was limited this go-round to the center of the raft and must stay in contact with either of the center two (there are six total) barrels. "It was revolutionary," said Marc Bever, a veteran of several years of rafting games. "I really think it's going to set the standard for rafting games from now on." It's not gender exclusive, either, nor age discriminatory. The Bever descendants: Marc, Matt, Todd, Aaron and in-law Jason Warnock, as well as several Johnson decendants: Breanna, Grant and Maddy all tried the game, and all loved it. After the original officer tagged the first person out, that culprit was soon an aide to the officer, with tag-team strategies coming into play. The choppy waters of Big Birch Lake added a little hijinx as the waves lifted and slammed the raft back. Turner, it was said, was at an advantage. His 6-foot-4 frame was the biggest wing span of the group, but it was little 9-year-old Maddy Johnson that got the gamer award, playing in water over her head without the aide of a lifejacket. Grant Johnson provided much of the comic relief, but it was the essence of the game, of "All Hands on Deck" that won the crowd and, without a doubt, will soon become a legacy of Lafayette Resort on Big Birch Lake.

The author of this story can be reached at story_teller911@yahoo.com

A new sport in the making

I missed out on this. I was sitting around the campfire when they took off. A new sport in the making By Aaron Turner, aturner@wabashplaindealer.com Sunday, May 28, 2006 10:13 PM EDT My family has a rich tradition of togetherness. I'm closer to more of my cousins than I am with the best friends I claim in life. And I like it that way.

Something we've always done is the famous adage: "The family that works together, plays together." And we do our share of both.

We've baled hay with Grandpa Jim since we were wagon-wheel high, or so it seemed.

We've shown hogs at the 4-H Fair together, and done most things together.

Well, for Memorial Day Weekend, we got together.

Grandpa has a campsite hollowed out in his woods in rural Lagro, and this has always been a gathering spot.

This weekend was no exception.

Now "The Woods," as we know it, lives in legend for all of us. It's a place of solitude, a place of story telling, a place for campfires and s'mores.

It's also, usually, the starting point for most of the trouble we, the cousins, get into.

I'll not deny that we get into our share without it, but usually it stems from some idea cultivated in the wooded wonderland.

Saturday, my wife (Kristi) and son (Baden) stopped by there after visiting Heather Fox's open house.

Now Baden is on breathing treatments because of bad cold he's been fighting, so without electricity, we couldn't camp as is the normal custom.

But what time we were there, was worth it.

It started out just like any other visit. Baden didn't last too long in either of our arms before being picked up and carried away.

We had beef and pork, thanks to leftovers from Jeremy Warnock's graduation. His brother, Jason, made the mistake of marrying into our family.

Anyway, after dinner, some of my cousins and I took a walk to check out the newest acquisition - a pellet gun.

For some reason, I had an empty can with me, so I was the thrower in the clay-pigeon-like endeavor.

Two hit it, several didn't.

After that, we started up the hill for one of the hay fields, waist-high on my 6-4 frame.

It was there that the game began.

One of us had an empty dip can.

So my cousin Todd tossed it at my nephew, Levi, which struck with a surprising “tink.”

From there, the game evolved.

Now Levi, even though he's nine, promptly picked it up and rifled it back at someone else.

And so it went with snuff can getting thrown around a hay field by a bunch of idiots.

Levi was there just because he tagged along, and played because we were.

And Neil (Bever) was there, and was, I'd say, probably the favorite target.

Neil's a soon-to-be sophomore.

The rest were relatively grown men, ages 21-29.

Eventually it became sort of dodgeball-like, where if you caught the dashing dip can, you were rewarded with a free throw at the one who tossed it at you.

As weird as it sounds, it was pretty fun.

Even though not one of us walked back to the campsite without welts, it was a blast, and by far the most exercise I've had in quite a while.

I can't recommend this game to anyone, due to liability reasons. You just have to be a bunch of half-crazy hillbillies with a knock of picking up pain-inflicting games.

---

Aaron Turner is the sports editor for The Plain Dealer. His views do not necessarily reflect those of this newspaper. He can be reached for comment at aturner@wabashplaindealer.com.

"Wheel of Death" Videos

The Office Group Photo

"I'm kind of an expert at photoshop." groupphoto.jpg

Dwight: I.D. badges are long overdue. Security in this office park is a joke. Last year, I came to work with my spud gun in a duffel bag. I sat at my desk all day, with a rifle that shoots potatoes at 60 pounds per square inch. Can you imagine if I was deranged?

Oscar: I don’t like looking at it. It’s creepy, and in bad taste, and it’s just offensive to me. It makes me think of the horrible, frigid stage mothers who force the babies into it. It’s kitsch, the opposite of art. It destroys art, it destroys souls. This is so much more offensive to me than hardcore porno …

Dwight: I never smile if I can help it. Showing one’s teeth is a submission signal in primates. When someone smiles at me, all I see is a chimpanzee begging for its life.

Cross Canadian Ragweed at Stables

RIP Paul Dana

Dreams dashed - IRL - Yahoo! Sports

Dreams dashed By Bob Margolis, Yahoo! Sports March 26, 2006

Bob Margolis Yahoo! Sports Exclusive I met Paul Dana for the first time in May 1998 at Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

We were introduced by a mutual friend who thought I'd be interested in meeting a guy who was trying to be a professional race car driver but had been schooled as a journalist.

Paul had a unique perspective on his goals. Despite having gone to college to be a writer, he wanted to race cars. He knew that he was trying to break into a profession that at the time was becoming more and more dominated by young drivers who brought money to the show – and money was something he didn't have.

What he did have was the passion and desire to make it to the big leagues.

That often translated into Paul coming across as a bit pushy, but I loved his overabundant energy. He was always fun to be around. I've always liked people with the kind of passion and energy that Paul exhibited and we easily became friends.

He started having some success driving in the open wheel Barber Dodge Series later that year, and I always got emails from him on Monday mornings after every race. It was part self-promotion (which was a good thing) and part confession that he wished he had done better.

He did well in that series, winning six times in his first professional racing opportunity.

He spent the next several years trying to get a break and find someone who would give him a chance without him having to buy it.

I suppose after realizing that the only way to open doors was with dollars, he began to use one of his strongest assets, his personality, and forge relationships with potential corporate sponsors who would financially support his dream.

We lost touch for several years, but then met up again last May at Indianapolis. He was cautiously excited about his first Indy 500.

While happy to have the opportunity to drive in the biggest race in the world, Dana was concerned that his race car perhaps wasn't the best on the track.

And after his first accident in practice for the 500, he was a bit gun shy.

He was right to be.

He had another wreck the following week, a more serious one that fractured vertebrae in his back and sidelined him from the 500, keeping him away from the thing that he loved the most.

He was able to come back to the track just a couple of weeks later on the weekend of the race, and despite the severity of his injuries he still had that optimism that was his trademark. He hated being sidelined, but he told me right then that he'd get back in a race car.

I last saw him in the fall of last year after his deal with Rahal-Letterman was announced.

It was like he had won the lottery. I'd never seen him so excited. His eyes were full of joy and we talked about how persistence and drive pays off in the end.

He was going to be teammates with Indy 500 winner Buddy Rice and the IRL's biggest personality, Danica Patrick.

I have to admit that at the time, I felt a bit of envy. It made me think about all the goals I had never realized and here was Paul living one of his.

We hugged and I wished him luck and he tried to make me promise that I would write good things about him.

With Paul Dana's death Sunday following a crash at Homestead-Miami Speedway, I've now had the misfortune of watching three young drivers that I considered friends have their lives cut short while living their dream.

Greg Moore, Tony Renna and now Paul Dana.

A close friend who also is involved with auto racing once told me that if I was going to be a motorsports journalist, I shouldn't get too close to the drivers.

"They're the ones who die here," he said.

I never did listen to him. Sometimes you can't help it.

Unser Jr. confirms he will race in 500

Very cool. Unser Jr. confirms he will race in 500 | IndyStar.com

Al Unser Jr. said Monday he is returning to drive in this year's Indianapolis 500 at least in part to pester Michael Andretti, his lifelong friend and rival. Andretti is returning to the 500 after a three-year absence. Unser last competed at Indianapolis Motor Speedway in 2004. "Somebody's got to keep Michael honest," Unser said, confirming his ride with Dreyer & Reinbold Racing. He will partner with Buddy Lazier on the Indianapolis-based team. Unser and Andretti, both second-generation Indy-car drivers, joined the sport within a year of each another in the early 1980s. In CART, they combined to win 81 races and three championships. Unser also won two 500s. Unser will be 44 and Andretti 43 when this year's race is held May 28. Unser said the lure of competing in his favorite race was too much to ignore. He sat out last year but found it difficult to watch on television at his home in Henderson, Nev. "It reminded me of the split (with CART and the Indy Racing League)," he said. "They weren't good feelings, let's put it that way." Unser said he decided to pursue a ride late last year, and he went with his son, Al, to Tampa, Fla., to train during the winter. "I also just miss the fraternity of (the paddock); I miss being around the racetrac

Don't Believe Everything You Read

Urban Legends Reference Pages: Inboxer Rebellion (Thousand Dollar Bill) No, you're not going to be receiving money, merchandise, or free trips from Bill Gates (or anyone else), no matter how many people you forward this message to. Tracing all recipients of an e-mail message is not yet technically possible, and even if it were, Bill Gates certainly wouldn't be testing software that performed such tracking by blindly sending messages out to the Internet with a promise of financial reward to the recipients.

First and foremost, e-mail tracking programs do not exist. That folks continue to fall for myriad varieties of these leg-pulls is in part attributable to netizens having caught so many references to these non-existent programs that the new hoax is able to continue building on an already partially-constructed platform of belief.

(As with every other technological issue, the statement "e-mail tracking programs do not exist" becomes less and less true every day. It is possible in some cases to determine who has read a particular mail message, but there is no method of doing so that will work with all the myriad of e-mail programs out there or keep track of who forwarded the message to whom.)

Once again, e-mail tracing programs do not exist. Any "get something free" come-on or "help a sick kid" appeal which specifies an invisible program is keeping track of who received an e-mail and who it was then sent to is a hoax. Any such note. No exceptions. Not even ones not yet listed on this page.

Likewise, missives which offer no explanation of how the e-mails are being tallied are also hoaxes. Unless you are e-mailing a copy to a central tabulating point every time something is forwarded on, nothing is being counted, traced, tracked, or any other verb that would result in you getting free cargo pants from the GAP or inspiring an unnamed millionaire to donate just a little bit more towards the care of an injured child.

Read on for more email irriations, scares, and myths...

http://www.tallrite.com/LightRelief/debunk.htm

Big companies don't do business via chain letters and there are no computer programs that track how many times an e-mail is forwarded, let alone by whom. Bill Gates is not giving you $1000, and Disney is not giving you a free vacation. There is no baby food company issuing class action checks.

Proctor and Gamble is not part of a satanic cult or scheme, and its logo is not satanic.

MTV will not give you backstage passes if you forward something to the most people.

The Gap is not giving away free clothes. You can relax; there is no need to pass it on "just in case it's true."

There is no kidney theft ring in New Orleans. No one is waking up in a bathtub full of ice, even if a friend of a friend swears it happened to their cousin. If you are hell bent on believing the kidney theft stories, see : http://urbanlegends.tqn.com/library/weekly/aa062997.htm . And I quote: "The National Kidney Foundation has repeatedly issued requests for actual victims of organ thieves to come forward and tell their stories." None have. That's "none" as in "zero." Not even your friend's cousin.

Neiman Marcus doesn't really sell a $200 cookie recipe. And even if they do, we all have it. And even if you don't, you can get a copy at: http://www.bl.net/forwards/cookie.html . Then, if you make the recipe, decide the cookies are that awesome, feel free to pass the recipe on.

If the latest NASA rocket disaster(s) DID contain plutonium that went to particulate over the eastern seaboard, do you REALLY think this information would reach the public via an AOL chain letter?

There is no "Good Times" virus. In fact, you should never, ever, ever forward any e-mail containing any virus warning unless you first confirm that an actual site of an actual company that actually deals with viruses. Try: http://www.norton.com or http://www.mcafee.com . And even then, don't forward it. We don't care. And you cannot get a virus from a flashing IM or e-mail, you have to download it .... ya know, like, a FILE !

There is no gang initiation plot to murder any motorist who flashes headlights at another car driving at night without lights.

If you're using Outlook, IE, or Netscape to write e-mail, turn off the "HTML encoding." Those of us on Unix shells can't read it, and don't care enough to save the attachment and then view it with a web browser since you're probably forwarding us a copy of the Neiman Marcus Cookie Recipe anyway.

If you still absolutely MUST forward that 10th-generation message from a friend, at least have the decency to trim the eight miles of headers showing everyone else who's received it over the last 6 months. (Think Cut and Paste). It sure wouldn't hurt to get rid of all the ">"s and spaces that begin each line either, together with the so-called "manual line breaks". Besides, if it has gone around that many times we've probably already seen it. To get rid of all that surplus punctuation, simply copy the message into Word, then use Edit-Replace (or Control-H), and when you’ve finished copy it back into your e-mail. (You must REALLY think the message is worth forwarding to go through all that palaver !)

Craig Shergold (or Sherwood, or Sherman, etc.) in England is not dying of cancer or anything else at this time and would like everyone to stop sending him their business cards. He apparently is no longer a "little boy" either.

The "Make a Wish" foundation is a real organization doing fine work, but they have had to establish a special toll free hot line in response to the large number of Internet hoaxes using their good name and reputation. It is distracting them from the important work they do. Also, the American Cancer Society does not give 3 cents for each person you forward e-mail to. They ask for you to donate money, they don't give it, as if they could know how many e-mails you sent out ... sheesh.

If you are one of those insufferable idiots who forwards anything that "promises" something bad will happen if you "don't," - then something bad will happen to you if I ever meet you in a dark alley.

Women really are suffering in Afghanistan, but forwarding an e-mail won't help their cause in the least. If you want to help, contact your local legislative representative, or get in touch with Amnesty International or the Red Cross.

As a general rule, e-mail "signatures" are easily faked and mean nothing to anyone with any power to do anything about whatever the competition is complaining about.

KFC really does use real Chickens with feathers and beaks and feet. No, they really do. Why did they change their name? In this health conscious world, what was KFC's name ? Kentucky FRIED Chicken. FRIED is not healthy. So with the help of a focus group, they changed the name to KFC. It's short, doesn't offend dieters and it's easy to remember. (Personally, I still think "Kentucky Fried Chicken" is easier.)

Another thing, just because someone said in a message, four generations back, that "we checked it out and it's legit," does not actually make it true.

There is no bill pending before Congress that will allow long distance companies to charge you for using the Internet.

Bottom Line ... composing an e-mail or posting something on the Net is as easy as writing on the walls of a public rest room. Don't automatically believe it until it's proven false ... ASSUME it's false, unless there is proof that it's true. Bookmark the following links to help discern truth or hoax: http://www.truthorfiction.com http://vil.nai.com/VIL/hoaxes.asp .