February 27, 2018

It’s about the gold

The Olympics are finally over. I don’t mind admitting that I am glad. I found this biannual event less than entertaining. Perhaps it was the glee the NBCers found in finding any athlete who wanted airtime to vent against the current politicians-in-charge back in the States. Frankly, I don’t care what a mediocre 15th place finisher thinks about the Veep. Nor do I care what a gold medal winner might think. I want personal politics left out.

That is not to say I want the politics ignored completely. I am xenophobic as heck when it comes to the Olympics. Go America! In fact, I was disgusted when NBC skipped showing true ‘mericans to show foreigners winning medals. I’m sure they cheated.

More importantly, I miss the Cold War Olympics. It is not nearly as fun if you can’t root against the evil Empire — the USSR, the East Germans, the Romanians, and Bulgarians. I want to see the commie bastards lose to apple pie and hot dog eating red white and blue blooded freedom- loving Americans.

It isn’t about the mythical Olympic spirit, it is about winning.

A Common Sense Proposal to Save Lives

There was a hit and run over the weekend. A local teen was killed. Police are looking for a late model Chevy Cruze.

This has to stop. This is at least the third or fourth hit and run locally since the beginning of the year that involved a Chevrolet. I propose an immediate ban on Chevy brand cars.

Did you know you can sell a Chevy to anyone with cash? There is no process in place to ensure the buyer is licensed or has insurance? There is no way to trace if the car was used in a previous hit and run? This loophole must be closed. Did you know you can purchase an old Chevy at a car show? You don’t have to go through a dealer. You can even buy cars over the internet.

Over 3,000 people die in car crashes every day on average in this country.  As many as 50 million more are injured in car crashes every year, many of which are teens. This has to stop.

I propose we ban the Chevy brand immediately. I call on the major car rental companies to cease renting Chevys and purge their fleet. They should eliminate the GM employee corporate discount.

Enough is enough.

February 26, 2018

Itsy bitsy parlez-vous

I studied French in high school. I had four years of it. I took advanced French in college, stupidly testing into higher levels to get credits. I barely passed. I have forgotten nearly all of that knowledge. I remember words, a few basic phrases. I can ask if Phillipe is at the pool. I can say “my name is Joe”. I can count to ten. I can do the same in Spanish. So what?

Even in my visit to France back in...I don’t know...around the turn of the century, my command of the language was poor at best. I could read a few signs, ask if anyone could speak English. In fact, my German, which I never studied, was about as good as my French. A skill or knowledge not used in decades is lost.

Last week I had the need to cold call a couple of companies in Quebec. Now the French speaking people of that part of Canada are famously reluctant to deign to communicate in English. I listened to the French language phone menu and determined that I should press “2” for “Anglais”. That just led me to another menu in French. Ugh. Another 15 years removed from hearing or speaking French has done nothing but degrade further my limited vocabulary. Even when I was studying the language I could read and and translate OK, speak it a little (with a horrid accent) and understand the spoken words barely. Now, I got maybe every fifth word or so of the phone message.

I kept pushing random phone buttons until I finally got a real person. I asked him, in my best Kindergarten French, if he spoke English. He offered a reluctant “yes”. I asked for someone in the purchasing department.

We had what the famous movie described as “a failure to communicate”. After I tried to be understood in pidgin French and he pretended not to understand (hatred of cold-calling salesmen is universal), the bon homme suggested I try the parts department in their New York warehouse.

I tried the second company on my list. I understood not one word of their phone menu. I hung up before speaking to anyone. Even if I got to the right person, how do you conduct business with folks you cannot understand?

The boss won’t be happy, but I’m marking these companies off my prospect sheet.

February 25, 2018

a movie review 47 years in the making

After messing around on the interwebz yesterday morning I parked my old-man butt on the couch and hit the power on the universal remote. For probably the third or fourth time I slogged through”The Last Picture Show” and for probably the third or fourth time my immediate reaction was “meh”.  I just don’t get it. There are far better coming of age flicks out there. Larry McMurtry certainly penned better in his long career. That is the great thing about opinions, we all have one and you just might like the movie.

For once, I won’t be obnoxious and tell you that you are wrong. I will just say I don’t hate it, I just think it is a mediocre film at best.

February 24, 2018

Red Vines or Twizzlers? The debate rages on

Heavy rains are falling on the already water-logged soil this morning. The forecast calls for it to continue raining most of the day.

In this society of knee-jerk reactions, I see several companies are pulling support of the NRA. That is their choice. A (semi) free economy works like that. I wonder how long they will stick to it after several million NRA members boycott those same companies? Sometimes I think we forget that organizations are made up of people, they are not a faceless lobbying bogeyman. I’m not a member, it is no skin off my nose. I just find it interesting, as an observer of life in these times.

There, after almost 13 years of blogging, I have finally hit on the title I should have used for this blog O’crap — The Life and Times of an Average Joe. The next time I start a blog I will go with that. Maybe. That is an even better title than The Race Bannon Chronicles or The Shawnee Supper Club. On second, or third, or nineteenth thought, I ought to have gone with Bag O’Crap Blog. I could have gone old-school and used Musings of a Mudsill.*

As far as I know, we have nothing scheduled for the weekend. I need to change the furnace filter, there is that. I bought a couple of bags of salt for the water softener. I could pour those in. How does that sound for excitement on a big Saturday night? The softener is not just a luxury. The water is so hard here you can almost hear it clink into the glass straight from the tap.

The enchiladas I had for supper last night didn’t sit too well. I feel better this morning. I guess I will forgo the details. You’re welcome.

My coffee cup is empty and so is my very shallow well of content. The coffee cup situation I can remedy. Getting meaningful content is a whole ’nother matter.

I hope you have a great Saturday.

* I’m not doing your homework for you today.

February 23, 2018

Not even remotely deep thoughts

A crazed terrorist uses a car or truck to mow down innocent people. Dozens are killed and wounded. It has happened many times worldwide. Yet not once has anyone called for a ban on trucks, not even ones with automatic transmissions.

Yeah, and I slogged through a foot of snow to get to school - uphill both directions

It looks to be another soggy early spring/late winter day here in the heartland. It is Friday, and that is never a bad thing.

Today marks the first spring training game for the Cubbies and the start of a new season. I usually find spring training games unwatchable, but I may give this one a try. Well, I may listen to it, if it is on the MLB app, since I will still be on the work clock. There is no TV in my office.

I had an interesting conversation with my wife and son at supper last night. They are firm in conviction that no one under 21 should be able to buy a gun. They were incredulous that I shot my first rifle at 11 years old. They could not believe I shot rifles and shotguns at Boy Scout camp all through my teens. I did not even tell them that I had a B.B. gun before that or that I was hunting at 16 and 17 and started long after some of my friends.

You would be proud, I didn’t argue with them, my default when anyone disagrees with my obviously correct positions; rather, I shrugged and said we would have to disagree and changed the subject.  The thing is, it never occurred to me to shoot at, or even point a gun at anyone — even at eleven years old. How old were you when you shot your first gun?

Perhaps that is the difference, I first learned to shoot under very strict, safety-first conditions. I learned a gun is a dangerous tool. I no more would have played with one than a saw or axe. I also carried a knife for most of my youth, I never once pulled it out to show off or use as a weapon. Not even in one of my many fights on the playground or backyard. It just never occurred to me.

It seems for today’s America personal responsibility is lost. We somehow have to regulate stupid, evil, and irresponsibility out of society. A kid shoots up a school and it is the fault of the gun. Somehow an evil individual uses a tool wrong and as a society we are at fault for making that tool available. Then we exacerbate the nonsense by blaming a range of social and perhaps mental problems. We limit the rights of the good and law-abiding to try and stop it from happening. In truth, an evil person did an evil thing and a whole library of laws wouldn’t have prevented it.

Ah, I didn’t want to go there today. Have a great Friday.

February 21, 2018

With apologies to King Crimson

Mother Nature has been schizo here in the 21st Century. Sure, blame it on climate change, I don’t care. Yesterday we saw record-breaking temperatures in the mid-seventies. Today, we can expect highs in the upper thirties and snow flurries in the afternoon. What the Heck?

I whipped up a batch of baked pasta for supper last night. The house still slightly smells of garlic and tomatoes. I sometimes wonder why I am cooking when the boy has his day off. He is a sous chef. I don’t think I have ever eaten his food, unless you count back when he was a cook. He has never cooked at home, that I can recall. I suppose expecting him to cook on his day off is like expecting your doctor cousin to diagnose at the Thanksgiving get-together. He never criticizes my efforts. I’m not sure if that is an endorsement of my skills or apathy. Maybe he likes anything he doesn’t have to prepare.

We have hit hump day. We can start to look forward to the weekend. I’m not sure if even the weekend can cure what ails me. I simply need a vacation.

Have a great day.

February 20, 2018

today I shall be called El Supremo

Good morning blog readers. It is a wet warm day here at the old blogstead. Temperatures are slated to broach 70 today. Too bad it is raining.

Locally some high school kids who “ identify” as someone different than who they used to be are throwing a fit because the school insists on putting their legal name on their diploma as opposed to the name they are currently using. Government entities are funny that way. Your driver’s license, social security card, tax documents, etc. have the same policy. Good luck getting a credit card or bank account using a non-legal name.

The real truth it all about disrupting, about trying to be famous, about forcing your mindset on the rest of us. Call yourself Mars Venus Zapata for all I care. You are still Bob Jones as far as the real world says until you change your legal name. Bob Jones is who you are on your diploma, license, and legal documents. Sorry if you don’t like it. Life ain’t fair.

February 19, 2018

Get back copycat

OMG, we have to do something, so we should ban the scary-looking plastic semi-auto rifle used by the latest madman killer.  I don’t own one, such a ban would not personally affect me. But let us not fool ourselves, the AR-15 is not significantly different than a semi-automatic .22 I used to shoot in the general direction of squirrels in my youth.

But these guns are used in mass murders. Well, the grandfather of school shootings, Charles Whitman, used a bolt action Remington 700 from atop the tower at the University of Texas in 1966.  The deadliest school shooting of all time in the US was carried out by a murderer toting a pair of handguns at Virginia Tech. The largest murder of school children was in 1927 at the Bath Township school in Michigan. A bomb was used. I guess there is nothing inherently evil in a black plastic gun that might make young adult males go on killing sprees.

It could be that the AR-15 is used because it is one of the best-selling guns in the US. Most criminals use a a Chevy, Ford, or Toyota as a getaway vehicle. I wonder why? It might be that some of these guys just want to be copycats and the AR-15 is what the last guy used.

We have to do something. This only happens in the US. According to Wikipedia, five of the top ten deadliest school killings occurred outside of the US, including the top 3. In fact, these killings happen all over the world, even in places with very strict gun laws like China.

We should make it hard to own a gun, really restrict who can have one. You mean like opioids? Well then let’s make guns totally illegal, get them off the streets and out of the hands of children. Just like we do pot, booze, heroin, and meth?  Every state should have the same gun laws. Murder is already a crime in every state and locality.

Instead of restricting law-abiding gun owners, we should target criminals. How about this:  If you use a gun in the commission of a crime, even if you do not shoot anyone, like in armed robbery, you get the death penalty. I am not talking in 15 years down the road, but in a reasonably short time. If a jury finds you guilty and an appeals court finds no error in the trial, then zip, zap, bang you are dead. Preferably, we do it it on the courthouse lawn, pour le encouragement au l’autres. I suspect gun crime will decrease quickly. Harsh? You bet. You wanted a solution didn’t you?

February 18, 2018

A crisis averted

I bought a new belt.

It is brown leather. It was on sale for 50% off. I got it at Macy’s.

The loop thingy that holds the extra belt length came off a month or so ago on my old  belt.

Problem solved.

Bookmark this post, you will want to read it again and again.

February 17, 2018

What a guy

Considerate. That is just one of many adjectives that have been used to describe me. Mostly used by me, but that is getting off topic. Apparently, the boy spent the night elsewhere. His dog usually sleeps in his room. As I shuffled upstairs to the office blog room the dog was curled in my recliner. He rolled his eyes at me as I turned on the light. Instead of booting his sleepy carcass from my chair, I grabbed my iPad and came downstairs to surf the web and blog from the couch. Let sleeping dogs lie is the old saying and who am I to go against convention? See, I am so considerate I even make sure my kid’s dog is comfortable.

We are heading to visit our oldest friends this evening. Yesterday was my buddies’ birthday so an evening of eating and hanging out is in the plans. Yesterday was also my Mommy’s birthday, so we will stop by to wish her belated best wishes too.

Speaking of birthdays, mine is coming up soon. It is probably time to start making that list o’stuff and  placing orders if you are buying my gifts from the interwebz. Please limit your gifts to no more than five this year. Let me know if you need ideas. Beer and cigars are always good places to start. I wouldn’t turn up my nose to a free week on the beach. Please remember, when it comes to getting me gifts, money should be no object.

Players are in warm climes starting spring training! Unmeaningful and nearly-unwatchable games start next week. Still, spring training baseball is better than no baseball.

In a maybe intentional ironic twist, the Cubs are giving away umbrellas as a premium for one of their games against the Cleveland Indians this season. You might remember it was a fortunate rain delay that allowed the Cubs to regroup and win the World Series in 2016. My blog buddy Jean may not find this umbrella idea as funny as I do.

Have a great Saturday.

February 16, 2018

Midwest Living

It was in the mid-sixties temperature-wise yesterday, with intermittent rain. A typical spring day. Today, why highs in the thirties with snow flurries. Life in this part of the country is interesting. I suppose Mother Nature decided that in lieu of scenery we would have extreme fluctuations in weather. Generally, we suffer the whims of a northwest wind or a southwest wind, thus warm one day, cold the next. An absence of terrain features lets Canadian cold air and warm Gulf breezes determine whether we wear a jacket or heavy coat.

Knock on wood, I think the worst of my cold is behind me.

How much longer do the Olympics last? What is the difference in the ski events? It looks like they race down the same slope every night. When did they start painting the course in blue lines? How many different times do the ice skaters perform? Why won’t other channels show alternative programming that is not reruns? I have so many questions.

How about we combine some of the Olympic events to speed stuff up? For instance see if the people who ski and shoot could use the ice skaters for targets. See how high the skaters jump and twist then. I bet more than a few would get rid of some sparkles on their costumes. That would be worth watching. I suspect gun jokes are hard today. If you are offended disregard this paragraph. I am really surprised the shooting sports haven’t been banned from the Olympics anyway.

Have a great Friday.

February 15, 2018

I’m tired of writing this post

Another stupid senseless school shooting. It was a gun-free zone, so let us not fool ourselves into believing more laws will change things.

I have no answers. I wish I did.

The guy who pulled the trigger is the murderer. Just as an axe cannot fell a tree on its own, the gun was a tool in the hands of a madman.

I offer prayers to the families of the victims. Too bad the killer surrendered before he could be eliminated from this Earth. I’ll say what you are all thinking. Now some scum lawyer will go beyond ensuring his client gets a fair trial, he will try to get this piece of human garbage his freedom. Most likely the taxpayers of a Florida will foot the hefty legal bills.

I have no answers. I wish I did.

February 14, 2018

John has a long moustache, The chair is against the wall...

The other night I was surfing through my TV channels looking for something to watch. I have 2,194 channels and nearly 19 of them are not home shopping related. Still, I couldn't find anything worthwhile except the Olympics. Tired of old Miami Vice reruns I reluctantly watched ice skaters do their thing.

At one point I opined to the wife that I am surprised that no one has tried to do the same-sex couple thing in pairs skating. We both laughed.

The Big Brother listening devices in my living room are working. My Echo spy machine has reported my conversation, because lo and behold there is an editorial in USA Today calling for same-sex couples in figure skating. Hah! You can look it up yourself, I am too lazy.

I will admit I did not know Will Farrell made a movie about that some years ago. I suspect it was not funny. 

February 13, 2018

Go ask Alice

Let me understand this. Graffiti artists spray paint on property they do not own. The guy who actually owns the property -- you know, the one who pays taxes, maintains the property --  he paints over the so-called art and then tears down the buildings to put up new high rises. Somehow the owner has to pay out nearly $7 million to the people who defaced HIS property? WTH?

I think I am living in Wonderland some days.

February 12, 2018

My bathroom scale is a Democrat

If I can believe my bathroom scale, I weighed yesterday pretty much what I weighed in 1980 when I graduated high school. My bathroom scale is a notorious liar. At one point in time it tried to tell me I was way fatter than I am now. That prevaricating device has a future in politics. Yesterday, at least, it told me what I wanted to believe. I can live with that.

February 11, 2018

Who decides what is important?

Let me get it out of the way. I may well be an uncouth, uncultured, redneck from a backwater, flyover state. Guilty, guilty, maybe, and yes. Despite these serious cultural deficiencies I am not necessarily uneducated. My Alma Matter is consistently ranked fairly high in the various rankings published every year of colleges and universities. In addition, I have always read -- a lot. If you take the various lists of 100 books you should read, I have read most of them, including War and Peace.

To the meat of the matter: Catch-22 is drivel; unreadable schmaltz. So is From Here to Eternity. In fact, many of the so-called classics are crap, Moby Dick first and foremost. Joyce, Cervantes, and Milton all are impossible to read. Hawthorne I can manage, but why would I want to? Bunyan, blah. I will take bawdy Moll Flanders over The Vicar of Wakefield any day.

I just finished reading Pearl S. Buck's The Good Earth. I read an abbreviated version in a compendium of Readers Digest condensed books as a kid. I liked it better forty-five years ago. I suppose the story is mildly compelling, but the writing is so-so. Certainly not Pulitzer-Prize worthy. But what do I know? I will take The Sand Pebbles if I want a picture of China in the early 20th Century.

In honesty, I want to be entertained in my books, my movies, and my art. Do you want to teach creative writing? See how Louis L'Amour or Heinlein structured a book. It may be pulp, but those guys could write and tell a story. Are you looking for dark humor? Twain was a master. Patrick O'Brien painted in words. You shouldn't have to slog through a book or movie before it can be "art". Forcing a kid to suffer through The Scarlet Letter is a sure way to make any teenager hate reading. Is that really the point of English Lit? Don't even get me started on how they teach history.

I don't want to go to a museum and study blotches on canvass, wondering if there was intent or an accidental spill. I'll take Hopper over Picasso any day. My writing is not good. If you were to read my notebook of efforts, you will see I strive to capture a moment in time. I like my art the same way. I want to say "What happened next?" or "What just happened?". "Leave 'em wanting more" should be the goal of any book, movie, photograph, or painting.

Art can best be defined by the Popeye Proviso: the Sailorman claimed "I yam what I yam", I know what I like, and that is art to me. L'Amour westerns and Elvis movies are not deep. They don't make you think. But they add amusement and color to our lives. Isn't that the point of art after all?

Some art museum in England took down a painting so that we could think about women in art in a non-binary way, or something. I don't want you to tell me how to think about art. I just want to enjoy it or not.

If I wonder why I should care about Why the Caged Bird Sings, it is OK. Some prefer Faulkner over Hemmingway or Fitzgerald over Forrester.

I wonder how many people who tout Proust as a genius ever tried to read his work? How many finished it? That my friends, is the point of this post. Do not let anyone tell you what to like or what is good.

I know, TLDR

February 10, 2018

Everything I know about China I learned from watching 1970s Kung Fu movies

In a reoccurring theme I woke up early again this morning. It becomes a cycle. I wake up around four or so, then by 10:30 at night I am exhausted, so I wake up the next morning at four or so. Rinse and repeat. There is no point in further complaining, it is what it is.

This morning I woke with a headache. I can feel my sinuses filling. I hope I'm not getting a cold. The granddaughter had the sniffles earlier in the week and probably spread the germs. If it came from her I don't mind. Yesterday she was my buddy. She wanted to play with me all day. She even dragged her dollhouse into my office to be near her "Paw" while I worked.

It hit near fifty yesterday melting the snow we had. It is back into the 20s today. At least we will miss the big winter storm crossing northern Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and southern Michigan this weekend. We are slated to get some freezing rain, but not the snow. Personally, I prefer snow to ice any day. Mother Nature did not ask my opinion. It is probably for the best. I am often reluctant to opine on stuff.

I tried to watch the Olympics last night. After about 15 minutes I was bored out of my mind. I flipped over and watched "A Chef's Life" then channel surfed until I dozed off on the couch. I shuffled up to bed a little before 10:30 (see above). The wife was folding clothes in the bedroom. I crawled into bed anyway and fell asleep with the lights on.

Geez, I have bored us both enough with this drivel. Have a great Saturday.

February 9, 2018

I really do not care about the Olympics

I woke a little earlier than usual this morning. So it goes.

Since I had some time, I perused the usual news sites. Man, this is going to be a weird Friday.

Some guy spanked someone else's kid at a Kroger in Georgia. Even if the kid had it coming that is just wrong. If someone had spanked my recalcitrant kid I would have likely intervened in a most uncivilized way.

Some college girl claims she was told to flush her "emotional support gerbil" by an airline employee. She did it. My first thought -- a comfort gerbil? Give me a break. This is getting out of hand. If you cannot bear to part with your gerbil, peacock, snake, cat, prairie dog, wolverine,or even dog, then drive. In your own car. Maybe my trusty handgun provides me with emotional support. How about that?

My second thought? I doubt anyone from the airline told her to flush the gerbil. I think the girl was stuck with a small rodent and had nothing else to do with it after the gerbil was denied on the plane, so she flushed it.

Here is a quick aside, did you know that it is now thought that the Bubonic Plague started from flea-bitten infected gerbils? Maybe it was hamsters?

This "support animal" trend is a joke. I was at the mall a couple of weeks ago. I was settled into the comfy chairs waiting on the wife and heard a dog snarling and growling and barking in one of the stores. After a while a lady came out, pulling a dog in one of those rolling dog carriers. The dog barked and growled at every person in the hallway.  That is not a trained service dog. That is someone who cannot leave their pet at home.

I am glad airlines are starting to crack down on this stuff.  Assholes always ruin it for everyone.  If only that nut-job in Georgia had instead spanked the gerbil girl at the Philly airport for being a sniveling jerk, then we would have a solution.

February 8, 2018

Won't you be my neighbor?

This post could be a rerun from any late winter since 2013. It is time to turn off your Christmas lights. You don't have to take them down, but you can unplug them. It is closer to spring than Christmas. Turn off the lights. Seriously, there are two houses in my neighborhood sporting their Christmas lights. Last year one of them burned them until April.

I bought the wife a wireless charger for her phone as a Christmas gift. She loves it because she can put her phone on it at night and not worry about yanking the power cord when her alarm goes off in the morning. The charger quit working last week. I called tech support and they provided a return authorization to send it back. I had to pay to ship it. It was $13 to send it back to California. The darn thing only cost $35 since it was the Amazon deal of the day. If the thing had broken a week earlier I could have shipped to Amazon for free. Still, it does not seem right that I have to pay to replace a defective product, especially when it is not even two months old.

Such is life. Have a great Thursday.

February 7, 2018

A brief list of non-sequiturs

I made a quick plane trip to southern climes for business this week. I have no interesting travel stories to report. It was nearly 70 in Alabama yesterday afternoon. It somewhere below "colder than heck" when I arrived back in Indy last night.

I drove across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. I ate some good BBQ. Not at the bridge. The two are not related beyond both occurred while I was in Alabama.

I have not been to Alabama for a long time.  We vacationed at the Redneck Riviera a few years ago. I used to go there on business a couple of times a year back in the 90's. Like most places in the South, the people were nice and friendly.

There was another dusting of snow on the drive when I got up this morning.  I am ready for spring.

February 5, 2018


A previously twice-deported illegal immigrant drunk driver killed two people in Indianapolis Saturday night. One of the victims was a member of the Indianapolis Colts. 

Will any of the open borders/amnesty crowd show up at the funerals to explain to us bigots that controlling the borders is not necessary? Will they talk to the families about Dreamers when two people had their own dreams cut short by multi-time criminal with no license, no insurance, no right to be here at all.

I say if we find out he was actually employed we charge the business owner as an accessory. That makes more sense than charging a bartender when a drunk wrecks or a filling suit against a gun manufacturer when someone goes on a killing spree. If we stop giving illegals jobs and welfare there is no reason for them to come here.

Exclamation Point

What a football game! I had no dog in that hunt, but it was sure fun to watch, especially given the outcome.

Maybe the cameras didn't show it, but it sure appeared that Brady refused to shake the opposition's hands, instead opting to leave the field immediately after the game. I hope not. That is a totally classless act.  Someone correct me if I am wrong.

Could announcer Cris Collinsworth be any more of a cheerleader for the Pats? I expected him to be wearing a short skirt and Minuteman sweater, waving red, white, and blue pompoms, instead of sporting a suit when they cut away to the booth. I would not be surprised to learn Collinsworth has a picture of Tom Brady next to his bed that he kisses every night like a love-sick teenager.

We snacked away the game after eating a late lunch in mid-afternoon. No Soup-er Bowl Sunday after all. I threw some cocktail weenies in homemade BBQ sauce in the Crock Pot*. Nachos, hot wings and a pan of brownies completed the feast. I cannot call it a party, when it was just the wife and I. It certainly wasn't a gathering. Calling it a social event is not accurate. It was just a couple of people having too many snacks. No beer or alcohol was involved. There was no nudity. No sex. No loud music. I guess you would call it "two old people sitting on the couch eating stuff off paper plates while watching football and sad dramas on TV".

Oh well, have a great Monday. The Patriots are losers and that is a good start.

*this is a pretty new slow cooker -- less than a year old. No chance of fire.  I might add, that we just tossed an old slow cooker last year that was more than 35 years old. Yes, people have old small appliances and use them.

February 4, 2018

Super Sunday

It is weird how life works. In the past election I voted against a candidate. In tonight's Big Football Game I will be rooting against the New England Patriots, because duh. In no other circumstances would I cheer on the Eagles, but today they will get my feeble and grudging support.

Since I am a loser from way back, I have to support the underdog. I am happy the Cubs are contenders these days in baseball. I'm ecstatic they won a World Series, but secretly I miss the lovable losers a tiny bit. Only a tiny bit.

I'm sure my future commitment hearings will feature this commentary.

Anyway, today is he Superbowl. I have seen many area businesses post closings for this evening. I guess this football game has become bigger than Christmas eve. Even pizza places have listed closings and I would think Superbowl night for a pizza joint would be like black Friday to a retailer. Shows what I know.

I've seen some push for Superbowl Monday to be a holiday. Let me get down on a knee and ponder that.


Have a great Sunday, whether you watch the game or not. This year we are staying home to watch tne game. We are having potato soup for supper. Because it is Soup-er Bowl Sunday. Honest. Just one more reason you wish you were me.

February 3, 2018

Abrupt reversal

The post I wrote for today (not this one, the other one) was saved as a draft, never to see the light of day. No one wants or needs to read about my crappy outlook on life.

Instead I offer wishes that you have a great weekend.

February 2, 2018

Come On Cloud Cover

Today a random rodent will determine the course of our weather for the next month and a half. Since it is unbelievably cold again this morning -- we are talking single digits and subzero windchill -- I think I  can speak for all of my neighbors when I hope for an early spring.

Unfortunately, a quick glance out my office window shows a light blue sky with nary an early morning cloud in sight. It now comes to mind why I shot groundhogs as a youth.

Do you know what you call a dead groundhog in a hole? Phil.

How did a groundhog get to determine our weather anyway?  Why not a chipmunk? Maybe a starling would be a better weather prognosticator. If a goldfish freezes in the birdbath it is still winter. I'm not sure how that predicts spring though. How does global warming climate change "all weather is the fault of anything we hate" (except actual weather patterns) affect groundhogs and shadows? If there is more carbon, plants thrive; thus there is a chance there is more shade; thus an early spring. Is it a self-fulfilling prophesy?

Is it possible a rodent has no effect on the weather? After all, official spring arrives in about a month and a half regardless of what a buck-toothed mammal predicts.

I know this about groundhogs; they make a passable, but greasy and gamey stew. Cooked low and slow the meat is pretty tender. That is what I think of the groundhog today.

February 1, 2018

This too, shall pass

I'm still alive. My compelling interest in entertaining you, complaining, reporting the weather, or soporific musings is, however, on life support.
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