Ring of Fire

On December 22, 2008 my wife Janeen and I celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary. A symbol of a marriage is that gold wedding band. However, wearing that thing drives me nuts so I took it off 25 years ago and put it in a small box somewhere in the confines of our house. Recently she asked me to wear it for 30 days in honor of our anniversary and I begrudgingly said "Yes." I made it very clear that after 30 days it's going back in the box. Since then I have done an informal survey as to people who don't wear their wedding rings and I found the numbers to prove that many don't wear their rings for differing reasons. Like: it might get caught in my power tools; I might lose it when I'm swimming; I can't grip the golf club correctly with it on; I've gained a little weight and my fingers swell so I took it off; etc, etc. How about you? Do you wear your wedding ring or are you one of those self-proclaimed softies that says it represents the sanctity of marriage and I wear it every single day to remind me how much I love my spouse. You've got to be kidding me!

Rest In Peace

I received a call last night from the owner of Hamelina, the pot bellied pig I've had my eye on for quite some time. I've been wondering why they haven't contacted me about adopting Hamelina. I was so excited when she said, "You don't know me but I'm the owner of Hamelina the pot bellied pig." My heart raced .. could it be ... they are going to let me adopt her. However, that's not how the conversation went. She really wanted to know if I knew anything about pot bellied pigs because Hamelina was sick .. very sick. She was just laying in her stall and not doing much. I told her to go see a vet but she had already checked, it was $140 for an evening visit. The owner didn't have nearly that kind of money and neither did her significant other. She said if she went during the day it would be $40 and she couldn't even afford that. She didn't know what to do. I told her to make sure Hamelina didn't become dehydrated and to give her water through the night. I told her I would help her out in the morning and to give me a call. I did get a voice message only an hour later. She said, "Don't bother coming over tomorrow, Hamelina just died in my arms." If there is a pig heaven ... Hamelina will surely be there looking for food with her beautiful little black nose.

Swine Intervention

I fell in love earlier this week and I need your help. No mistaking, it was love at first sight. She was strolling down a long, lonesome highway and I couldn't resist the urge to pull over and get to know her better. We ended up going around in circles for a while until I walked her down the long and winding driveway leading to her home. Her name is Hamelina, she has jet black hair, short little legs, and dark brown bedroom eyes. Oh, I almost forgot, she's a Pot Bellied Pig. To make a long story short, the owners just happen to be giving Hamelina away because they are getting a St. Bernard and the two won't mix well. That made me immediately think that they don't love Hamelina in the first place and she now needs a loving new home. Should I adopt Hamelina or not? I need your help. In order for you take make an informed decision, I've included information below on Pot Bellied Pigs.

Some people would never consider sharing their home with a pig, there are many people who are charmed by intelligence and the personality of their pet pigs. There is no doubt that given the proper expectations as well as care and training, a pot bellied pig can make an interesting and much-loved addition to the home. However, many people find that pigs are demanding pets and are overwhelmed by their needs - as shown by the abundance of shelters overflowing with pigs (one such shelter, PIGS, a Sanctuary houses more than 200 abandoned pigs at times)
Before discussing the negative aspects of pigs, it must be noted that pigs have several desirable qualities. They are intelligent, readily trained, affectionate, curious, playful, clean, generally quiet, odor free, and usually non-allergenic. Many owners consider their pigs an integral part of the family and involve them in all their activities. However, there are a few things potential owners should know. PIGS neatly summarizes the pros and cons of pet pig ownership. Pigs are complex creatures and require an owner who understands their needs.
Pigs are very intelligent. This is usually a positive trait, and in fact pot bellied pigs are quite trainable, much the same as a dog (i.e. can be house trained, leash trained, and will learn a few tricks). However, their intelligence can make them a bit of a handful, too. They are curious and playful, but also head-strong and sensitive. Without appropriate stimulation, they will become easily bored, and possibly destructive.
Pigs are also unrelenting in their quest for food - and can learn to open the fridge, cupboards, pantry - wherever food may be lurking. They can become demanding, begging for food, and even getting aggressive with kids that have food. Pigs also "root," or dig/explore with their snouts - and in doing so may overturn items in the house, including wastebaskets, and can disrupt the landscaping. This is instinctual, so an area of soft dirt should be provided in the yard so they can fulfill their need to root.
Another problem some have encountered with their pigs is aggression. Pigs can be territorial and have a drive to be dominant ("top pig"). Unless shown that the humans in the household are number one, pigs can exhibit a form of aggression known as dominance aggression (also seen in dogs). Pigs need to be taught to respect their owners, but setting rules and boundaries, teaching the word "no" and using gentle but firm discipline. Pigs respond well to positive reinforcement (e.g. using praise and treats when the pig is doing something desirable), and do not do well at all with physical punishment. From day one, the owner should be setting the rules and enforcing them. Consistent rules, praise for good behavior, and correction/redirection with lots of repetition and patience will help produce a well mannered pig with a good relationship with its family.

I'd Like You To Meet

My new and dear friend Lucille Spencer. She is 97 years young and has been a great addition to my life. Lucille and her crabby little dog Emily live north of Bovey, Minnesota in a small old house. Lucille has taught me how to not take life so seriously, to laugh more, and to enjoy everyday as if it were your last. She loves carmel rolls and good polka music on her TV. She listens to polka on TV because she is blind. Being blind doesn't phase Lucille a bit. She bakes, talks on the phone with friends and does a lot of rocking on her rocking chair. If you ever get a chance to meet Lucille, please excuse her many .. and I mean many ... chiming alarm clocks. Some sound like birds, some sound like music and some sound like a dog peeing on a flat rock. One thing is for sure, when you walk out of that house you'll be a better person for it.

I Got Mugged

This Monday four of us went to the local A&W Root Beer stand for root beer floats. The anticipation of ice cream and a frosty mug of root beer was overwhelming. I slammed by fist down on the counter and asked the young man in the root beer suit to give us four root beers. He asked what size and I said mediums. He gave me my ticket and said he would let me know when my order was up. Within minutes our order was ready. Much to my dismay I noticed that he was serving us root beer floats in paper cups. I said, "This must be some mistake! Where are the frosty mugs?" He said, "You have to order a large root beer float to get a frosty mug!" "This is crazy .. sacrilegious! You can't get a frosty mug with a medium root beer?" This young punk stared at me like I had six eyes. He could give a rat's-ass what I thought about frosty mugs. It was no sweat of his ass to piss off a customer. He just worked there. Root beer isn't root beer unless it's served in a frosty mug. It just doesn't taste the same. What has happened to this world? I remember when you could get a baby mug of root beer for heaven's sake ... it was the size of a small shot-glass. So the four of us sat down and tried as hard as we could to enjoy our paper mugs of root beer. I enjoyed the company but the root beer sucked.

Road Kill

Last week I took a drive into town on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. It was 80 degrees and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. What a perfect day to be alive! I started following a red car down this long straight-away when I noticed it swerve a bit and something bounced out from underneath the car. Much to my dismay I noticed that this person had run over a giant Snapping Turtle nearly the size of a spare tire. Because I was trailing the car I too came upon the turtle and saw him writhing in pain with his long neck stuck out in a contorted way and his shell completely ripped off his torso. I was in shock but also in a fit of rage. I chased after this car so I could look inside to see what stupid actually looks like. I'm thinking to myself this has to be some young punk kid out for a thrill. The red car was hard to catch as it was going 80 MPH or better. I finally caught up to them after a stop light and pulled right up next to them and discovered it was a middle-aged woman and her son. I yelled out the window, "Do you realize you just ran over and killed a giant Snapping Turtle?" She replied, "I didn't see it!" It was at that point I knew what stupid looks like and my anger kicked in and I let her know there is no excuse to run over a giant Snapping Turtle (size of a spare tire) in broad daylight. She quickly rolled up her window and drove away in horror ... or at least I hope she did. There are so many people who go out of their way to run over defenseless turtles, snakes, rabbits, porcupines, and for the life of me I can't understand why. The only excuse I can think of for her was that she was texting at 75 MPH and actually didn't see the turtle. I couldn't get this horrific scene out of my head! I hope this lady feels miserable for what she did ... I do! This turtle has been crossing this road for years and is, was, probably 50-60 years old. The next time you see a turtle on the road, please take the time to put him/her in the ditch in the direction they were going.

You've Got To Hand It To Them

Did you know there was a new rule at parades that states you must hand candy out to children , rather than throwing it to them? In all honesty, I'm a pretty mellow guy but this one has really pissed me off! Do you remember when you were very young and your parents told you not to throw pencils, rocks, nails, bottle caps, etc, because they might poke someones eye out? Did you ever witness this phenomena? My Dad lost his eye because someone shot it out with a BB Gun. Now I can understand some saying "Don't shoot that BB Gun at someones eyes," that makes total sense. But "Don't throw that Jolly Rancher, Tootsie Roll, Gum Ball, Laughy Taffy ... makes absolutely no sense what-so-ever! Who makes up these rules? Is it the PTA? I'm well aware of the fact that someone, somewhere, was on the receiving end of a damaging blow from a Milk Dud but give me a break! You have a better chance of getting struck by lightning than you do getting maimed by a Sweet Tart thrown from a politician, fireman, police officer, or beauty queen. What's next ... egg tosses can only take place if children wear protective head gear? Let the damn kids have fun and dive for those shabbily thrown decorative chunks of bubble gum. If another kid gets in their way, knock his frickin' head off! When it comes time to get your first job are they just going to give it to you or are you going to have to earn it. What about this child obesity thing taking over the world? Not that kids aren't eating enough candy these days, now we have to walk up and hand it to them. Did you know that diving for a Zot burns more calories than standing there and opening up your hand and having the police chief hand you one? The number one problem with youth sports these days is parents. Everything is structured. There is no freedom to free-wheel! Parent have to be in control of everything. How in the hell are you supposed to learn creativity when everything is structured. Next thing you know they will have a special rule that tells kids exactly how to take a dump! Call your state senators and congressman .. tell them to throw the "no throw parade candy" bill in the dumpster.

Global Warming My Ass

Isn't there an old saying that goes something like, "If you haven't walked in my shoes you have nothing to say.?" Well I've never completed a bunch of experiments on global warming or read Al Gore's blog but this damn rain is driving me crazy. They say that if you ever need to strike up a conversation with someone you have nothing in common with, you can talk about the weather. Well for all of you out there I don't know, this weather sucks. Since April all we've had is snow, wind, rain and cold. Aren't we suppose to have light showers, soft breezes, and warm weather? I have a love/hate relationship with Fall because Fall means Winter and winter means six months of freezing your ass off for the most part. Now I'm starting to hate Spring because it means Summer is just around the corner. I thought we were experiencing Global Warming? Isn't Global Warming responsible for ice bergs melting .. birds dieing .. fishing floating .. vegetables frying .. children crying .. etc, etc? If there is such a thing as Global Warming, wouldn't we have experienced a 70 degree temperatures by now?

What The Hell's Going On

Vince Lombardi, the late, great coach of the Green Bay Packers used to have a great saying when he coached ... "What the hell is going on out there!" I use that one a lot when I'm coaching as well. But lately I've been screaming it in the privacy of my own kitchen. This whole recycling thing and the world making an effort to be green is driving me nuts. Don't get me wrong, I recycle everything and I pick up garbage and I verbally assault people that throw cigarette butts out there window. But somebody please help me understand the madness behind recycling? There's a numbering system on the bottom of plastic containers that goes from 1-7. But the #1's are the only ones you can recycle .. right? So when I look at the bottom of my frozen raspberry container it reads #3 ... when I read the bottom of my skim milk jug it reads #1. Recycle the milk jug and toss the fruit cup. What the hell's up with that? If there is such a push to make this planet greener, then why in the world isn't everything a #1. Why waste time with the 2'a and 6's? Is it that it's cheaper for companies to sell products in 2's, 3's, 4's, 5's and 6's? If that's true, wouldn't everyone be willing to pay a few cents more for their fruit cups to be recyclable? Also, now I hear that these Nalgene water jugs that are #'7's will kill you. This world is a dangerous place. They used to say you had a greater chance of getting killed by simply crossing the street than you did in a plane crash. Now I think you have a better chance of kicking-the-bucket drinking water than you do crossing the street. The next thing you know vitamins will be bad for you. Come to think of it, my Dr. encouraged me a few years ago to take Vitamin E. She said, "It will make you live longer." Last year I read a report in the American Journal of Medicine that said Vitamin E could kill you ... what the f ---!

Two Left Feet

What does stress do to you? Does it make you lose weight? Does it make you vulnerable to diseases? Does it make you snap at your family members? Does it make you miss your period? Does it make your hair fall out? Does it make your poop a little softer? Stress does many things to many people but the example I witnessed today was a first. I was sitting in a meeting when I heard a loud "Oh my God" come from one of the people in the meeting. "I'm so embarrassed ... I can't believe this. How could this happen?" as he buried his blushing face in his hands. What was it you ask? He put on two completely different shoes. That's' right ... two completely different shoes! I thought bringing a full gallon of milk out to the car with me was bad? Can you imagine putting on two different shoes? I'm trying to imagine how that happened. Does he have both pair right next to each other and put them on blindly? Wouldn't they feel different? I guess not because he had them on today. I sure hope he tells his family this story because it's just too good. I've always heard that if you don't make mistakes you're not trying.

Running His Ass Off

I was cleaning up the horse manure from our land the other day toward evening and I heard a blood-curdling scream from the west side of our field. I looked up to see Jack, our donkey, chasing after my dog Lloyd. This may sound funny but donkey's are extremely protective of their heard and they will kill anything they think is a predator. It doesn't make a difference if it's a mountain lion, bear, wolf, or moose. Jack wasn't going to let our Bassett Hound, Lloyd, scare his corral mates Amie and Breeze ... even though their combined weight is over 3,000 pounds. Back to the chase. Lloyd was screaming at the top of his lungs and the foam was flying as it was beautifully displayed by the bright orange sunset behind him. I've never seen Lloyd run that fast. He was at full stride (like a greyhound) and only inches off the ground. The interesting thing was that jack was so close to him his head was actually ahead of Lloyds. I also was fearing for Lloyd's life as I was screaming out Jack, Jack as loud as I could while running with a manure rake in my hand. On the 5th Jack he suddenly stopped and let Lloyd's urine-soaked body make it through the fence and to safety. I yelled at jack and pushed him away. After consoling Lloyd I went back to jack to have a few words. He knew he was wrong. As I was scolding him he inched closer and closer to me nervously swaying his head back-and-forth looking for acceptance. Eventually he pushed his head and giant soft ears into my chest and begged forgiveness. Needless to say, I forgave him. A few days have passed since this episode occurred and Lloyd continues to push the envelope. You see Lloyd was here way before Jack and he feels he can go anywhere on this land and not have to worry about it. It one sense I'm afraid for Lloyd's safety and on the other hand I very proud of his courage.

That Would Be The Butt Bob

As usual, we had an excellent call-in show with Dr. Michael Fox this morning on 91.7 kaxe/kaxe.org. He answered questions regarding a potential case of cat dementia ... how to stop a dog from constantly barking ... why dogs get lost ... how dogs find their way home ... a great comb for dogs called the Furminator ... and a very unsettling case of a cat returning home to his cat companion and being shunned because of her cat litter odor or the Chanel #5 perfume her owner was wearing. Hell ... my wife shuts me out when I come home with Garlic on my breath. As soon as I walk in the door I hear, "You've been eating Garlic haven't you?" A cat can't say that. All they can do is turn their back and strut the other way with their nose pointed straight up. You would too if you knew where one of the main ingredients of Chanel #5 came from. Where you are asking? I'll tell you where! It's from the anal glands of cats from Ethiopia. That sucks scissors! Think of that the next time you put a little dab of Chanel #5 on your neck, back and breasts!

Head Games

The labor pains were to musc to take at my brothers 5th birthday party on Sand Lake just a few miles west of Remer, Minnesota on a beautiful late summer afternoon on August 27, 1958. Hastily, Carol Bauer made her way into the back seat of an old brown 4-door Chevy for a high-speed race to Itasca Memorial Hospital in Grand Rapids, Minnesota with Migs Ahlbom at the wheel. The pain was excruciating as her soon-to-be-delivered son John, was trying to escape the womb by using his giant head as a battering-ram. After much screaming and blood loss, John Thomas Bauer was born on his brother Pete's birthday. From that day forward, my head became a very big part of my life. Baseball hats wouldn't fit .. class pictures looked awkward .. entrances to snow forts had to be widened .. kids would stop, stare and point .. pillows wore out faster than normal because the constant pounding .. and the one claim to fame was that I was the smallest player on my high school and college football teams but had the largest head ... 7 3/4. The best thing that ever came about because of my giant head was revealed a few weeks ago while visiting a family member in the hospital. Have you ever taken those obesity tests? You know, the ones that say you should weigh this much if you're so tall? Well, while in the hospital room I spotted a devise that measures your height. You back up against the wall and lower the plate to the top of your head to see how tall you are. Well, this one had a weight measure at every inch of height. Mine once again labeled me as obese. This has always puzzled me as I don't think of myself as being obese. I'm 5'7" tall and weigh anywhere from 168 to 172 pounds. Needless to say I walked out of the hospital room with poor self-esteem and a hunger for a diet. That very same night my sister-in-law Andee called my to tell me about her theory on my obesity. She said, "Have you ever given any consideration to how much your head weighs compared to the rest of your body?" She also feels that I'm not obese ... but maybe my head is and thus the extra weight to throw me over the obesity line. I never was so happy in my life. It was my head that was causing all the tonnage issue. Now I can walk away with my head held high.

You're So Vein

Here it is April 25th and the ice is falling from the sky with 16" of snow right behind it. It couldn't get any worse ... could it? My cell phone alarm went off and it was time to take our two dogs Sadie and Lloyd and our cat Luffa to the vet. Since Lloyd is such a puss, I thought I'd bring him in first. He was really excited to be going somewhere different. He stuck his chest out and strut his way directly through the front door of the vet's office. Did you know Basset Hounds have the second best smelling nose of any dog second only to the Blood Hound? Well you should have seen it at work when he walked through that door. He immediately knew he'd made a mistake and started to shake Don Knotts in that funny western movie. What made things even worse was the fact that he had to wait a good 15-minutes before he got the call. Once inside he tipped the scales at 75-pounds. The Vet Assistant gave Lloyd the once-over and checked his temperature by sticking something up his butt. Once in there, she determined he had the runs based on his temperature and the heavy buildup of poop residue caked on his ass. "Well give you something for that," said the Vet Assistant. She then called for the Doc as they needed to draw blood to see if he had any viruses or other health concerns. She also informed me that Basset Hounds are terrible for finding a good vein for blood because of their short, stocky legs and the Doc would do abetter job than her. After many attempts at finding a vein in the front leg they went for the back and finally struck gold ... or should I say red. The blood was rushed off for testing, Lloyd took three shots in the back of the neck and he was off to the Camry and very excited to do so. Next was Sadie. She's a 14-year-old Blue healer who has bad back hips, poor eyesight and is losing her hearing. What she does have is spirit and the will to live. Sadie has spent her whole life on the horse trail and very prod of that. Sadie was a gem in the Doc's office. They drew her blood, gave her two shots and it was off to join Lloyd in the back seat after dodging a extremely hyper German Sheppard and a 97-pound golden lab in the lobby. Up next ... Luffa the cat. Luffa came was taken from the car in a cat kennel and was a little nervous. They wieghed her (12.55 pounds) and checked her out everywhere imaginable. She received two shots and was on her way. After returning from the car I was told that Sadie had a tic-bearing disease and needed special medication. "We'll give you something for that." They also gave us Frontline and some chewy chunks that help them with something but I'm not really sure what. When the receptionist in the black and white animal smock told me the total for this 30-minute visit ... I almost shit my pants. Thank God I didn't because they would have probably shoved that thermometer up my ass and charged me for it. Oh .. did I forget to tell you how much the bill was? $481.76.

Both Barrels

Today we are celebrating KAXE's 32nd birthday. In honor of our birthday we asked people to bake us 32 birthday cakes and the count so far is 24. Earlier this morning in the KAXE Kitchen I ran into a very nice gentleman who spilled his guts out to me. He asked me how long I've been working at KAXE and I told him nearly 13 years. He said and I quote, "I thought you were an asshole! But now I love listening to you." He said he normally doesn't open up like that with people but he did for me and I thought it was great .. kind of! Then, a short guy with dark "Al Linder" ssunglasses stopped by for a piece of cake. I've never met him before in my life. The first thing he said to me was, "The things you see when you don't have a gun!" I've never understood the unique gift I have that makes people despise me but it must be real.

The Vibrator Incident

So I'm sitting in the back row with Jo at a fundraising session and I keep hearing this distant vibrating noise. For some reason vibrating noises make you perk up and pay attention. The first chorus of rings were confusing. I couldn't tell if it was a cell phone on vibrate or the hotel workers doing something in the basement. Shame on you! Get your mind out of the gutter. I was thinking it might have been a dish washer or dryer in spin cycle. Then, after a 30-second lull, the vibrating noise came back. It became very obvious now that it was a cell phone in this woman's purse who was sitting right behind us. The vibrating rings seemed to go on and on forever. I tried spinning my head around at about a 45 degree angle as to give her a glare and a hint that the vibrating was driving everyone nuts but to no avail. I couldn't believe it didn't work. You see, I have the biggest head you've ever seen. I was the smallest guy on my college football team and I had the biggest head. 7 3/4 inches to be exact. A human battering ram. After about a minute the phone vibrations reared their ugly head again. I was infuriated. I started to count the number of vibrating rings ... there were twelve. Isn't there some way you can set your vibrating rings to 3 or 4 before it goes to your voicemail? Obviously this lady didn't know. Actually, she didn't give a shit! Why? Because it rang again, four times in all and she didn't bat an eye. Now don't get me wrong, cell phones have become a necessity in our daily lives. Other necessities in our daily lives are manners .. and this lady had jack for manners. Once the vibrating stopped, the fundraising session went quite well .. that is until I ran into the breast-feeding woman.

Hands Down

Do you remember being in elementary school and knowing the answer to a question the teacher had asked? It didn't happen very often to me. But when I did know the answer I would thrust my little hand in the air and wiggle my fingers like they were live snakes. Sometimes I'd even mumble "ooh .. ohh" to enhance my odds of being called on. I was eight years old then .. that was my excuse. Guess what? People still do that today and they are not children. They're fucking adults! At the National Federation of Community Broadcasters Conference in Atlanta, Georgia this past week I saw more hand waving then you'd see at an Abba concert. The first one was pathetic. This guy put his hand up right at the start of the presenters presentation and wouldn't take it down until she called on him. Probably two minutes of hand-raising! Guess what? The son-of-a-bitch did it again! This time it was up and waving for a good four minutes before being called on. I'm staring at this guy the whole time and was trying to understand why he would do that. Was it something that happened in his childhood? Did his parents make him do that at home so he could eat? Was he rejected by girls when he was young? I don't know, maybe he goes to a lot of high-powered auction houses around the world and he bids a lot. This stories not over with. He actually raised his hand again and this time it was the "final four" of hand-raising. You know the one. Your hand is up so long that you actually have to prop your arm up with your free hand. Sort of like a human tripod. You could just read the mind of the presenter, "Not this asshole again! This isn't elementary school .. put down your hand before I rip your head off!" He didn't .. all he wanted to do was make sure everyone knew of the great idea he had during their most recent fundraiser. This was not an isolated incident of hand-raising .. they were everywhere at the conference. I've come to the conclusion that this is one of two things. Either it's a creative way of getting some light exercise or a gross display of narcisism. Keep this in mind the next time you have the urge to raise your hand. Even though it might not sound like it, I really enjoyed the conference. That is until this women's phone wouldn't stop ringing

I Beg Your Forbearance

I recently returned from Atlanta, Georgia where I attended the National Federation of Community Broadcasters Conference. Like most conferences, the learning sessions are spread out during the course of the day. Sessions like New Media; Community Engagement; Nontraditional Revenue Streams; Professional Radio Interviewing Skills; Better Web Sites; and What Can We Say to name just a few. Most people who know me know that I'm not a master of the English language even though my dearly departed mother was a honors English teacher. It seems like everywhere you go these days, whether it's a conference or meeting, someone's always trying to impress somebody with the shit that comes out of their mouths. Why must they do that? Do they get some sort of sexual gratification from doing it? They better ... because that's the only excuse I can possibly think of for doing it. Case in point, the opening presenter, after making several verbal errors made the statement "I beg your forbearance." What the hell's with that? I looked up forbearance in the dictionary and it defines forbearance as: to be patient. Needless to say, I lost mine right from the start. Why couldn't she have said "Please be patient with me." But no ... right from the get-go .. she starts out an NFCB conference with an obviosuly impressive word. Is that intentional? Does that shit just flow out of her mouth naturally? I'd have to study on the plane and stay up all night to come up with a single word like that! Anyway, I really enjoyed the conference ... until that guy wouldn't stop raising his hand