I’m starting to hate that red-striped bowl

The wife has a red KitchenAid stand mixer that I think she loves almost as much as she does me. It’s okay, she uses it to produce cookies and cakes and goodies. Her mixer has a white ceramic bowl with red stripes to mix the good stuff in. If there is anything my wife likes it is stripes (she wears a striped shirt nearly every day) and red. It is her favorite color. The combination of red mixer and red striped bowl makes her happy. 

Flash backward to early December; way back last year. Yeah, I know it was just a month ago. Stick with me, I’m trying to gin up drama here. I was washing dishes and I bumped the mixer bowl on the side of the sink. There was a tremendous crash and ceramic pieces and shards were all that was left of the red striped bowl. “What was that?” she called from upstairs.

“You know what is was,” I replied. 

“Did you break my mixer bowl?” She tried to not show she was ticked. Her disappointment grew when she discovered the bowl was a limited offering from Crate and Barrel and no longer available. 

I scoured the interwebz and found the bowl on a kitchen ware website. Debit card in hand I placed my order. It was now December 15, so I paid extra for expedited delivery. Only when I paid and I got my confirmation email did it become clear I had ordered the bowl from China. The email assured me in polite Chinglish my order was on the way.

Then nothing. Finally two days before Christmas, I was emailed tracking information. They shipped it via the Chinese version of the post office. After moving around various terminals, I’m sure being dropped kicked onto trucks with poor suspension on pothole filled gravel roads, the box was loaded onto an airplane on December 30. Fifteen days to leave China. I’m glad I paid extra for fast delivery. 

It is now January fifth. Tracking says it is enroute. I suppose my bowl was loaded on a Piper Cub flown by a pilot with narcolepsy because they only way it could take more than six days to fly a box from China to the US is if the pilot stopped to take a nap on every island across the Pacific. Planes back in the 1930s made it across  the Pacific in a couple of days, including stops on Wake Island and Oahu. Did the pilot stop for a slice of Hula Pie at Dukes on Waikiki? 

Anyway, my wife may or may not get a replacement for her beloved red striped mixer bowl. I’m betting the odds are high it will be in pieces when it does arrive. Her birthday is in June. Maybe it will be here by then.

that’s a change of pace

I am not dead. I don’t have anything worthwhile to say. 

I know, that never stopped me in the past. 

Stuff that interests only me.

I often tell my wife interesting facts and trivia. She almost always gives that blank look indicating she would roll her eyes, or worse, tell me “I don’t care,” if she didn’t love me too much to be rude. It is quite possible you roll your eyes or say “I don’t care” when I offer up fascinating tidbits. 

These days when you think about the greatest MLB hitters ever, Pete Rose, Babe Ruth, and Ty Cobb come to mind. Some of you will think of Hank Aaron or Barry Bonds. Of course Mickey Mantle and DiMaggio always make the list. 

You know who you forget? Stan Musial. Yes, I know he was a Cardinal, but he couldn’t help where he ended up. Musial ranks fourth in all-time hits. Did you know that? He only trails Rose, Cobb, and Hammerin’ Hank. When Stan the Man retired, he was second, only behind Cobb. 

Okay, you say. Here is a fact you might not know. In his last at-bat Musial drove a single past a lunging second baseman into right field. 

That is Harry Carey on the call. The second baseman? None other than rookie Pete Rose, the man who would later take the National League hits all time leader title (and MLB). What a strange bookend. 

Did you know that Stan Musial, Ken Griffey, and Ken Griffey Jr. all came from the same little Pennsylvania mill town? 

Yeah, you don’t care.

Happy New Year

 

Why not? I actually saw the Go Gos in concert back in the early eighties. The Flock of Seagulls was the opening act. Here they are on American Bandstand.

True confession, I’m a sucker for dark curly hair. 

The Annual Year End Recap

Nope. Sorry, there will be no recap again this year.

If you are going out drinking tonight get a designated driver. 

Be safe and I will see you next year.

I hate candied yams

The coffee is hot. Classic rock is playing softly on the echo spy device. I am rocking gently in my recliner as I type with one finger on the iPad keyboard. Through the window the neighbor’s porch and Christmas lights shine through the early morning darkness. Life is good. 

Another year is winding down. It doesn’t really matter what the calendar says, the days roll on. I am grateful for the blessings in my life. The ability to spell would be nice. So would a winning lottery ticket. I would settle for my kids to have happy prosperous lives. 

Monday is the last work holiday until Good Friday. I will likely take down the Christmas decorations on Monday. The house always looks so gloomy after the bright lights and decorations are boxed up. Maybe that’s why the house down the street leaves their Christmas lights on until April. 

We are going to visit some friends this evening; a sorta early New Year’s celebration without the party. I might have one beer. Mostly we will play cards and yuck it up, telling the same old stories from four decades ago. 

In case I forget to mention it, thank you from the bottom of my heart for stopping by and reading. I know the old blog has slipped a bit lot in the old entertainment factor. Maybe next year will be better. 

Let’s wind it up with some classic Blues Brothers. While often viewed as a comedy act, you cannot ignore that the backing band was compromised of some of the best musicians around. That is Steve Cropper and Duck Dunn on lead guitar and Bass respectively. They were part of Booker T and the MGs (Green Onions) and the backing band for a slew of recordings in the sixties and seventies. 

Surfing the Square Wave

It has been a quiet work week. I have received about as many emails this week as I normally get in an hour or two. I’m sure I’ll make up for it next week. I’ve been working on round two of big customer quotes. That means I have been staring at spreadsheets and numbers all day, every day, without a break for phone calls, Teams meetings, or emails. Yawn. Trust me, it is more tedious than it sounds.  

On the bright side, I have 4 hours of vacation left and since it is “use it or lose it,” I have the afternoon off. The wife is heading to the Southside to meet a friend for lunch and shopping, so I will have the run of the house. Lest you think that is a big deal, she is gone every afternoon anyway watching the grandkids. So it goes. Maybe I’ll call up some hookers and midgets and stage a crazy toga party. 

Maybe I’ll take a nap. 

Future Us Will Look Back and Say Why

 In the not-so-distant future my grandkids are going to listen in amazement to stories of constant electricity. They will not believe there was a time we could flip a switch and virtually always get electricity. They will guffaw incredulously as we describe cars that could run nearly unlimited miles continuously, stopping only for a few minutes for more fuel. 

They will wonder at forbidden energy sources like nuclear power, gas, coal . They will drool as we describe the taste of steak or pork or chicken as they snack on Solient Red, Blue, and Green. 

They will wonder why we allowed Government bureaucrats and socialists to destroy our economy and country in the name of the always on the brink of disaster climate change religion. They will believe it was necessary, since we still will only have five, maybe ten years to fix the problem. All it will take is a little more sacrifice and more money for the global elites.

Hump Day Monday

Here we are on a hump day Monday. I told the wife I both was ready to go back to work and did not want to. I’m bored, but like the time off. 

I’ve long had an Echo on my desk, it helps Amazon and the government spy on me. It also provides access to streaming radio and music while I work. For Christmas the wife bought me one of the small ones with a screen. I can see news headlines and a clock in addition to the entertainment it provides. I think it is going to work out well. Plus, she got it remarkably cheap at Black Friday prices. 

I moved the device that was on my desk into the oldest granddaughter’s bedroom to replace the old echo dot that was there. 

I might as well log into work early, that way I can finish up earlier this afternoon.

Have a great day!

Sleeping it off

Well readers, Christmas is over and done. I hope Santa was good to you. The whole family got lots of presents, especially the Grandgirls. The whole clan gathered for a feast at my daughters, everyone was there except my middle child who lives a thousand miles away. It was a good holiday overall. 

It is back to work tomorrow with a light schedule. Most of the company will be on vacation.

 Regular meaningful blogging may return. Or not. I find it hard to work into a righteous rant these days. I keep thinking I can’t continue to publish useless boring posts, yet readership is at the highest in a long time. It is so weird. 

Have a great Tuesday!

Merry Christmas

 

A glimpse of the tree at the old homestead

Merry Christmas everyone.

The Reason for the Season

 

Countdown

 

Not this year

 

Maybe it would come true if Bing wished in song for a rainy Christmas. 🎄 

The first of the Christmas get together is tonight. It should be a lot of fun.

Getting romantic

 On this date 45 years ago, I went on the first date with the girl who is now my wife. It was the best decision I ever made.

Moar

 

Getting Close

 

Because it is awesome

 I have a lingering and perhaps imperfect memory of sitting on the floor watching this Christmas special. Mom was in the kitchen making candy. Every time she turned on the mixer the TV signal was scrambled, to my dismay. I don’t know why that popped into my head.

What? You thought I was going to rant on Colorado deciding Trump committed a crime without even a trial? Nope, we got Banana Republic status as a nation some time ago.  This is another manifestation of the end of the Republic. 

If stress powered the furnace we wouldn’t have a gas bill

In the midst of holiday madness we cannot forget the retail machine chug, chugs along. Last night at Target they had Valentines and St Pat’s merchandise. 

Sigh

The wife discovered our daughter gave the exact same Christmas wish list to the SIL and us.  Everything we bought is a duplicate. Now the already stressed wife is in whatever you call next level of stress. 

The wife grew up dirt poor. It is important to her to get gifts for everyone—often going overboard. It doesn’t take a shrink to figure it out. It is the way it is. Lectures and reassurance from me doesn’t help. It never has. Christmas will be here soon and I hope her blood pressure drops accordingly.

Now for a change of topics.

Here is one of my favorite carols:

Stormy Monday

Here we are back to Monday again.  It’s like it rolls around every seven days or so.  I wish I had tales of excitement and wonder about the weekend to share with you on this cold, breezy Monday. I don’t. 

I wrote a few thousand words in a potential new book no one will likely read. Who knows if I’ll even finish? This tale is plotted and semi-outlined, unlike my last effort. It sorta wrote itself. “I know,” you say, “I could tell.” I need to do the work on the next one. I keep getting off track with research. The historian Barbara Tuchman once said that research is endlessly seductive, writing is hard work. Yes. On both accounts . 

This is going to be a busy work week. I better skip off the old blog and get at it. 

Enjoy your Monday. 

No music today. You deserve a break. 

But I can weather the storm

Well Readers, we are hitting the home stretch towards Christmas. Hanukkah is over. I suppose Kwanza is sometime. We have most of the presents purchased. I suspect the wife has gone way overboard with the grandgirls, as usual. 

It is raining this morning. We still haven’t had any snow to speak of, a flurry or two is it. So it goes. Warmer days means my furnace runs less.

Happy Sunday.

I’ve been good this year. Sorta

Today marks the oldest granddaughter’s ninth birthday. We are all going for dinner tonight then to see the big Christmas Light show at the State Fairgrounds. It should be a great time. It seems like yesterday she was born. 

I finished shopping for the wife’s presents yesterday. One gift she knows all about, she picked it out and stood there while I bought it - a new pair of boots. This way we know they fit and it was what she wanted. I’ll wrap them up and we will both pretend it is a big surprise on Christmas morning. 

I told her what I want for Christmas. It is the same thing I ask for every year and never get. It don’t cost nuthin’, but that doesn’t matter. She is always too stressed by the time Christmas rolls around to think about nekkid wrestling. Oh well, my birthday is in March, maybe I’ll get it then. 

Lovely Weather

Here we are on a beautiful Friday.  I am on vacation, kind of, sort of. Really big customer dumped a huge project on my desk, and I need to get a head start with the coming holidays. I suspect I will be at the desk for a few hours. So it goes. 

I plan on getting to the stores today to finish up some Christmas shopping before the wife uses up all of the money. Are her on-line fingers faster than my walking pace at the mall? Probably. 

Perhaps I will hie myself down to the cigar bar this afternoon. On the other hand, the temperature is supposed to get in the low fifties, perhaps I will just smoke one of my own stogies out by the fire pit. Maybe I will get ambitious enough to rake up the remaining leaves in the backyard.

Who knows? Have a great Friday.

Mystery kind of solved, and Velma and Shaggy had nothing to do with it.

Quite a while ago I was describing how I often find myself searching historical rabbit holes. 

I’ll wait why check the link. 

Really, I don’t mind. 

Look, the rest of this post makes no sense if you fail to get the backstory.

The subject of Reeses Mill has bugged me for a couple of years now.  I finally contacted the Boone County, IN historical Society, which forwarded my message to the Boone County Library. Seems that Reeses Mill is another name for The 'Burg, as my grandmother called it -- Mechanicsburg, IN. Located along Sugar Creek near the Clinton County line, my grandmother grew up on a farm outside of Mechanicsburg. 

There, our curiosity is assuaged. We can all sleep easy tonight. And don't even pretend you don't care.

Now I need someone to explain how my great-whatever grandfather was born in Ohio, migrated at some point to Cleopatra, Missouri, fought in the Civil War, and ended up back in Nowhere Indiana -- The 'Burg.

That question will probably never be answered, and I did not know enough to ask my grandmother when she was alive. 

Ah, the arrogance of youth.

Wayback Wednesday

Cell phone picture 2010

View of the Columbia River Gorge from the Vista House on the old Scenic Highway.  

I used to travel to Portland 4-6 times a year and I tried to drive the old 1917 highway as often as possible at least to Multinomah Falls. 

About Frosty

I built a snowman. I think he has anger issues. It warmed up today and he had a total meltdown. 

Random Ramblings

Here we are on a chilly Monday morning.  I hope you had a great weekend. I did. Nothing of note happened, but it was still okay. 

In these days of political strife and global divisiveness, can we all at least agree that Animal House is the funniest movie ever made? 

I threw a chuck roast into the crockpot yesterday. Some home-made mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and a couple of frozen dinner rolls made for a pretty good Sunday dinner. 

If we leave politics out of it, and imagine the defendant has a different last name - that he is a random rich guy - the fraud charges against Trump in New York seem a bit suspicious. Guy takes out a loan, says his assets are $X. Bank agrees. Gives out loan. Guy pays off loan, on time. Where is the issue?

If I go into the bank and say I want a loan and my house is worth $1,000,000. Isn't it up to the bank to tell me I am crazy? They will look at my house in the middle-class neighborhood in an aging suburb in central Indiana and determine my house is worth a fraction of that amount. Sure, if my house was in New York, or California it might be a million-dollar house (probably not even then), but it definitely is not worth that amount here in little old Connor Prairie. Where is the crime, where is the victim?

I may not be a huge fan of the Trumpster, but there is no doubt in my mind this fraud case is pure Banana Republic politics.

How about some music on this Monday?

Enjoy your day.

I'm Here to Help

 If you are looking for a great last minute Christmas gift you cannot go wrong with giving a copy of my super-wonderful first novel. Get a copy for yourself, if you haven't already, while you are at it. 

Buy It

You won't be sorry. If you are, I will give you your money back. 

In the new old fashioned way

 Happy Saturday! A light rain is gently falling outside, holiday music is softly playing on my smart speaker. My butt still hurts. Getting old is tough. At least I can mostly remember where I am and why I am in that room.  That's something the Most Popular President Ever seems to struggle with. Let's elect him again!

I had coffee on my vacation day with an old work colleague I haven't seen for a couple of decades. It was great to catch up. What is interesting is to compare career paths.  He started as an accountant but ended up where I thought my career would take me. 

I might have mentioned before I had no intention of going into sales. I believed my lot was in manufacturing; management trainee, customer service manager, production scheduler, production supervisor, master scheduler, materials manager, production manager, plant manager. I made it through the master scheduler role when corporate asked me to go into sales. I said "no". They said, "we will double your pay". I said "Yes". 

My friend started in accounting, did the production supervisor thing, moved to a different company and ultimately rose to plant manager and then in charge of all the plants in the Americas. He is now semi-retired. Good for him. I always say things work out like they are supposed to. I wouldn't change things. I love my job. Mostly. Okay, I like my job. Well, I don't hate my job. 

Anyway, the most interesting part of the conversation is my friend hooked me up with a contact I might find interesting. This guy is a salesman who has also written books. More to the point, we both sell the same widgets, but for different companies. How strange is that?

I need more coffee. Enjoy your Saturday. 

What? Sure, I will post some Christmas music.

The original lyrics were "for next year we may all be dead." Judy Garland refused to sing it, so they changed the words. 

Weekly Recap

Friday at last. This has been a busy week, even with a quick use it or lose it vacation day on Wednesday (I still have two more). 

That day off put me way behind at work, so I was still at it at 10 PM last night. Today will be busy too. So it goes. It beats not having work, that’s for sure. 

It looks like another busy weekend. The oldest granddaughter gets her black belt in Tae Kwan Do Saturday.  There is beaucoup Christmas shopping to do. 

For my Jewish friends:

Which hand is best to light the menorah?

Neither. Use a candle.

Infamy

 

A day that shall live in infamy 
On December 7, 1941 the United States was attacked by an unprovoked antagonist against military and civilian targets in the territory of Hawaii. The death and destruction was even greater than that at the WTC and Pentagon attacks of 9/11.

Killed and Missing

Navy 2,008
Marine Corps 109
Army 218
Civilian 68
total 2,403

Wounded
Navy 710
Marine 69
Army 364
Civilian 68
Total 1,178

Grand total of casualties = 3,581

This attack brought the United States into WW II, where the greatest generation saved the world for Democracy. Our thanks: hatred by the French and Germans, desecration of American graves in Normandy and displays in our own country that blame the US for Japan's attack. I have not forgotten the lives and sacrifices made by my forbears. Thank you. 

I will not forget Pearl Harbor.

I’d like to buy the world a Coke, but I can’t afford it

There has been a lot of commentary in recent years over the escalating tip culture. We all get the spinning iPad, give me a tip treatment at places far outside of the usual service industry. Why would I tip the guy at the miniature golf place or an on-line order? 

Lately, I have seen a pernicious trend that also affects the bottom line. Many sit down restaurants are now charging in excess of $3 for a soft drink. We went to a place last weekend that charged $4.25 for a glass of ice and a splash of Coke Zero. 

I get restaurants and bars are looking for ways to stay competitive as they are squeezed by Bidenomics, but sheesh. I can buy a couple of two liters for that price. 

Counting the Days

 Sixty-eight days until pitchers and catchers report.

Mom and Dad had this record on repeat

It is a new week. I hope you had a great weekend. I did. On Saturday some old friends came down. We went out to dinner then had a good evening playing euchre and sharing laughs. 

Sunday the grandgirls had a holiday dance recital. It was enjoyable. 

The weather was damp and cold all weekend. It is December, these things happen. 

Reading over this post so far I can see that while I had a good weekend it is boring stuff to read about. Sorry about that. I tell you what, let me know in the comments and I will return your subscription price. I call it customer service. Also, in the spirit of the times,  I will swing around the old iPad and you can leave me a tip. 

Have a great day.

Behold the greatness

 

Nothing else needs to be said.

Napoleon was not short

 I can understand the rash of negative reviews on Ridley Scott's Napoleon movie currently in theaters. I went to see it last night. 

I am no expert on Napoleon, but I would wager I know more about that period than the average bear. I have studied the Napoleonic Wars and the Revolutionary period quite a bit, not to mention the Emperor himself. The film condenses about two decades into a few hours, and that means a lot needs to be left out. The movie segues from one event to another without any context. In one scene the Corsican is defeating the British at Toulon, the next leveling canon at a Royalist uprising, then immediately we see Napolean in Egypt. There is nothing to describe what happened to bring each of these seemingly disjointed events about.  

I will not criticize the battle scenes as many a reviewer has; they are of course wildly inaccurate. For starters the Napoleonic Armies attacked in column, not line. But the point of the movie was not to show a military history, the battles are part of the narrative, not the story. If you want great battle scenes from the era, watch the 1970 epic Waterloo staring Rod Steiger and Christopher Plummer. 

In the end, the movie does not know what it should be. Perhaps Scott should have called the film Napoleon and Josephine, that is seemingly what the movie is about; the relationship between the two. Except then how do you account for the exposition on the Reign of Terror? I think Scott had more movie than he could fit in the allotted, already long, timeslot. I have no doubt a lot of context was left on the cutting room floor. This should have been a series, not a movie.

How do you tell the story of Napoleon in a single movie? He was perhaps the most charismatic leader ever born. He was a military genius, an organizational mastermind, a political savant, and an administrator of excellence. Parts of the Napoleonic code remain law today. He gave us the metric system. The way he organized armies remained the blueprint for a hundred years, used by friend and foe equally. His tactics survived in many armies right up until the advent of modern weapons (and proved a disaster for the French in both the Franco-Prussian War and WWI). 

There has never been an equal to the Corsican Upstart, and perhaps never will. It is no wonder an effort to capture the man in a simple movie is a failure. 

Pain in the rear

The day started normally enough. The wife’s alarm went off. She hit snooze and turned over. I got out of bed. I went to the bathroom, checked my blood sugars and pulled on yesterday’s shirt and jeans. I grabbed my socks and pulled the bedroom door closed.

I walked to the stairs, intent on sitting on the top step to pull on my socks. 

I misjudged something, my feet slipped off the edge of the top stair and I slinkied down about half the top flight. I mostly bounced on my coccyx. My wrist is sore, but my backside and lower back are slightly uncomfortable. 

The last time this happened I broke a rib. I think I’m good this time, but it is a lousy way to start the day. 

Wake up Little Suzi

Not so long ago the entire family was dining together, and the discussion turned to the inability of my wife and daughter to get up without hitting snooze repeatedly. I remembered that the oldest boy once had a Nickelodeon alarm that played the Nick theme song (from the 90's) and then launched into an alarm blare like a battleship klaxon. I remembered it was annoying.

My daughter quipped that "No, I had the most annoying alarm ever, and it looked like you", pointing at me. I could only laugh because it was true. She only sort of laughed.

Here is some background. 

My mother went to work full time when I was in sixth or seventh grade. It was my responsibility to get up and go to school. My brother wasn't going to get me up any more than I would have dragged him out of bed. I learned early to put my alarm across the room.  I had to get up to turn it off, so why bother going back to bed? It was effective. I still get up without a snooze. Thus, my patience with chronic snoozers is limited. 

When I went to college, I pledged a fraternity. Pledges lived in the house. One of the duties was to wake up everyone in the fraternity. Wake-up calls started at six and ended at 10 AM. Everyone was entitled to three calls every morning, the last call you had to insist the sleeper was sitting up with feet on the floor.  There were no exceptions, no matter what the sleeper said. Now, we had a small pledge class, so the pool of those on wake-up call duty was limited. Most guys served one day every week or two, depending on class schedule. Usually two guys did the duty, 6-8 and another 8-10. Classes started at a little after 8, so no one would miss an early class doing calls.

I had the misfortune of no classes on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday before 10:30. That meant every MWF I had wake up calls from 8-10. It sucked. Some guys did calls every two weeks, I was doing it three times a week. I became good at my responsibility. I knew the problem sleepers -- the ones who cursed, who begged, who fought. I knew the guys who would refuse to be "dragged". I had a duty, and I did it with ruthless efficiency.  

The next semester, again by chance, I had no classes before 10 on Tuesday or Thursday. Again, guess who got screwed? At least one other brother had the same schedule, so the burden was shared. I spent a lot of time my freshman year waking up the 70+ brothers in the house. 

Anyway, years later, when it came to get my daughter out of bed, I took the same approach. I would shake her the first time until she responded. Fifteen minutes later I shook her until her eyes were open and she could answer me. The third call I was relentless, shaking her and talking to her until she answered, sat up, and put her feet on the floor. In the fraternity I was done at that point, with my daughter I stayed until she was completely up and out of bed. 

Yes, I was an annoying alarm clock. But she got up. 

I don't care if it is not politically correct

It is a chilly 16F outside this morning with a threat of flurries. Winter is upon us, I believe. 

I am back to work after the long weekend. I took yesterday off to see the wife through a colonoscopy.  All is good with her.

Some of you are insanely curious, so here it is; "D" none of the above. I drove down to the gas station and got a cup of black coffee Sunday.   

The wife has the house transformed into a Christmas wonderland. There are five trees of varying heights, counting the one on the porch (4'). The big one is the 9' one we got last year. The stairs are wrapped in lighted garland. The dining room and family room each have little skinny trees (6' / 7"). I will try to get some pictures later in the week.

Now I have to get caught up on nearly a week's worth of emails.

Have a great Tuesday.

Yes, that is the indomitable Esther Williams.

The Irony

Am I the only one who finds it hilarious that the upcoming Rolling Stones tour is sponsored by AARP?

I need coffee

 I woke up in a good mood. Then the Keurig refused to make coffee. It won’t even make hot water. Nothing. I think the bleeping pump has died. 

Now I’m faced with going out and buying stupid coffee from the coffee shop. They opened a new Starbucks in walking distance. I could get some exercise and coffee in one fell swoop. I could drive a little further to the Donut shop. I could sit here and complain. 

Choose your own adventure. I will tell you tomorrow what I did. 

No music today.

It is a bittersweet day. I won’t belabor the point. Today is my grandson’s sixth birthday. 

Later this afternoon the wife and I will go down to the cemetery and smile and cry. We will celebrate the life, not the death. 

He is, I know,  in God’s arms.  

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

I hope you had a great Thanksgiving, I sure did. Of course I ate way too much and had too many desserts. That’s what it about. Well except for the giving thanks part. I did that too. We had a great time hanging with the wife’s extended family, a generally good group of people we don’t see enough. Coming from a tiny family, it is great to see four generations gather. Sadly, I am now part of that older crowd, even if I don’t always feel old. 

We got the outside decorated Wednesday afternoon. The house looks pretty much the same as last year and every previous year before that. The big tree is up (9’) but needs the ornaments. The second (7’) one is up in the family room. It needs decorations too. Today we will wrap lighted garland around the stair rails. Inside will be done by the end of the weekend. We are working in spurts, both the wife and I still tire easily from our bout with covid . 

And that is the boring update.

thankful

 

I do have plenty to be thankful for. While I usually fill these pages with sarcasm, bombast, and complaints, I appreciate you more than I can say. Thank you for letting me in your life a few minutes each day.

Now get off the interwebz and watch a parade or some football. Eat something!

Humpin’ up to the holiday

Here it is on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Work has been slow, and I expect today to be a real snooze fest. I’m torn, I need to call a customer, but I know the last thing on his mind is talking to a widget salesman on the day before a long holiday. Maybe I’ll call late morning and hope for voicemail. 

It is my hope I can wrap things up in time to get the outside lights up before dark. If not, I can work on it during the day tomorrow. I am quickly heading towards the “heck with it” stage. I just can’t get in the holiday mood this year. 

It not just the holidays. I started writing a new story. I’m four chapters in, have the balance of the tale outlined in a broad sense, but I have no motivation to do the actual work. Frankly, this story is better than my last one, but that makes no difference. I guess I’m at the why bother stage. I spent hundreds of hours on my current book for about 25 books sold. A follow-up effort will likely garner fewer readers. I cannot see working that hard for a vanity project. I can spew my nonsense right here with a modicum of effort. 

Boo hoo, boo hoo. 

How about some righteous rock and roll? After the holiday I will start playing Christmas music, despite my Jewish readers. So maybe you should listen to this today. 

Back when they rocked instead of singing power ballads. Of course there is nothing like being lectured to by rich musicians.

Have a great Wednesday.

I can fly!

I was not long out of college and working as a management trainee at an injection molding factory. The factory is long-closed and the OSHA statute of limitations, if there is such a thing, has long expired. 

It was my lot that week to spend some time on the graveyard shift, that 11-7 time slot no one likes. The factory had a range of presses, from 50 ton to 2500 ton machines. Some of the molds were quite large, all were very heavy. Cranes crossed the factory ceiling, not construction cranes, but the overhead machines that are ubiquitous in nearly every factory. 

There was one particular mold technician, maybe in his late thirties, who was eccentric, to say the least, but he was a wizard at his job. He could set up a press, wave his fingers over the controls and make the mold spit out perfect, repeatable parts every time. But he was batshit crazy. 

Big heavy 4x4 boxes that originally held raw material were used to collect scrap and recycling - plastic can be reused - and one of these boxes was at the foot of every press. I was walking along when I heard a thud. I looked down to see a quivering screwdriver embedded in the side of the box right beside me. Crazy mold tech Marty had thrown his screwdriver like a knife into the side of the box. He grinned, pulled it out and walked off. I learned he did this all of the time and could famously launch his screwdriver from 20 or more yards away with unerring accuracy. 

It was late in the week, in the doldrums that hit around 4 AM, that I finally saw his famous act up close. Over the roar and pound of the presses, I heard laughter. I looked up to see Marty flying above my head.. He took the hook from an overhead crane, and fastened  to the back of his belt and raised himself up fifteen feet above the machines and was slowly transversing the factory floor like an Industrial Age Peter Pan. 

The plant manager called me in to ask if I had seen the flying on the crane. I asked what would happen. “Ah, Jose (he always called  me Jose), he’ll have a couple of days at home. When he takes his meds he’s a good worker,” he said. “Besides,” the plant manager grinned at me, “We would all like to do it if we had any balls.” He glared at 23 year-old me. “Don’t get any ideas. Your ass will be fired.” 

It did look like fun. 

Snappy Title

It is a short work week. That is a good thing. But it is still Monday. 

I spent all afternoon raking and bagging up the ankle-deep leaves in the front yard. As I padded past the front door with my coffee, I noticed the yard is covered again this morning. While not a solid layer, there are plenty of bleeping leaves on the ground. It is also spitting snow. Imagine I typed a bunch of cartoon curse word symbols right here. You know, @&$#*!.

I made beef and noodles for dinner last night, and because I live in the Midwest I made mashed spuds to go with them. The best part is I have leftovers for lunch. Sure, it’s a carbapalooza. Sure, it’s bad for my blood sugar. Sure, I don’t care. 

For the first time in a long time, there will be no immediate family Thanksgiving this year. Daughter and her family have other plans. Youngest is feasting with his girlfriends’ family. The wife and I will motor north to spend the holiday with her family. I’m cool with that. Unfortunately, that means no turkey leftovers to nibble on over the weekend. 

So it goes.

Happy Monday. 

The other side of the Seventies

 

There are far, far worse ways to spend fifteen minutes or so of your Sunday.

BTW, was there ever a musician more into the tambourine than that guy?

It’s a chilly start

No more bad seventies music videos, at least for today. My strength is returning from my covid spell. Better yet, the wife is finally feeling better. The projects around the house have been in suspension for the past week. Stuff still needs to be put up on the walls, the new rug put down, and finding a place for all of those Barbies and toys. 

Outside, the leaves are ankle deep in the front yard. I still have limbs from the lilac bushes to cut up into small pieces. The front gutters are overflowing with leaves. 

We need to go to the grocery and make a Walmart run. I will take another test to make sure I’m not infectious, but there is zero chance I’m wearing a mask. If you are worried about my germs, go ahead and mask up. I don’t care. Just don’t wear it in the car, driving by yourself. You look (and are) foolish if you do. 

Overall, it is time to start digging out the Christmas decorations. That means rearranging all of the stuff we just put into place! We have so much to do, all without overtaxing our weakened systems. There is plenty to do. 

And a decided lack of energy to it. 

Continuing a theme

I haven’t even touched the surface in my effort to inflict the worst songs of the seventies on your ears. I could throw out some Melanie, Afternoon Delight, Honey by Bobby Goldsboro, Billy Don’t Be a Hero, Muskrat Love, or hundreds of other tunes too awful to thrust into your conscience even through reference. 

Instead, I will finish the week with this doozy. Enjoy!

Make it stop!

Get out of my head

Ha ha ha now you have it.

BTW, is that the most Seventies of seventies videos? 

I know there is an East Chicago (in Indiana), but on the “old east side”? I guess they mean the friggin’ lake? The song writers were clearly from the UK and geographically challenged. 

How about this one?

That one will really get stuck in your head. BTW, why does The Godfather get all the “greatest movie of the seventies” hype? Did the critics even watch BillyJack?

Of course that is a joke.

BTW I am getting better, very tired. 

The wife is really sick. 

Musical Interlude

You will have this stuck in your head. You’re welcome. 

Still Sick

It is confirmed. I have the covid. My earlier hyperbole aside, that explains why  feel like crap. I have slept probably 17 of the past 24 hours. While it isn’t the “we are all gong to die” panic the government tried to foist upon us, it isn’t the sniffles either. Mostly it feels like a solid  case of the flu. 

a little of this a bit of that.

I have a cold. I’m guessing an ordinary person would be in the hospital. Instead, I slept in my office recliner and am fighting through my debilitating symptoms to post something this morning. 

You are welcome. 

Friday evening I cleaned up all of the leaves from the front yard. Today the lawn is covered. That means after the football game I will rise from my deathbed and try to clean them up yet again. That’s if the wife doesn’t have other plans. She noticed Christmas lights popping on in the neighborhood and dropped some hints last night. I shall resist right up to the point she quits hinting and starts asking me to go to the attic. 

Thanks for the kind review Luap.

The Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day of the Eleventh Month

 

For all who served. The song dates from the civil war.

But while we were talking, I saw you nodding out

Friday at last. It has been a busy week. I drove my oldest son to the airport yesterday. It was great having him home. I miss him already.

After work I raked the leaves in the front yard. Most of the leaves are still in the tree, waiting until it is cold and gloomy before they fall, but I got a head start anyway. Mother Nature will wait until I put up my Christmas decorations then carpet the yard with leaves. She has a sense of humor like that. 

As for work, I will finish a massive quote of nearly six hundred items this morning. I have two final prices to calculate this morning and then check it thrice for errors before I submit it this afternoon. This account is 99% of my business, so a failure on my part or the company’s part will mean my job. Literally. I haven’t worked in a vacuum, costs and prices came with input from even the COO. Still, there is a high degree of stress involved. 

Have a great Friday. Here is some great music to make it so.

I hate people with a dry sense of humor

Some people once accused me of being a plagiarist.

Their words, not mine.

That old ennui

It might be because I am busy that I haven’t posted. It could be other stuff. Mostly, it is lack of motivation. 

Sorry about that.

Perhaps some music will soothe you.

How can you not dig that?

A pretty good Sunday

My daughter invited us over for dinner last night. It was meatloaf, not my favorite way of using hamburger, and it was in the middle of the Colts game. On the other hand we had no plans yet for supper and it was a free meal, so why not? 

We arrived at the appointed time and my daughter said the grandgirls had something they wanted to show us in the basement. So we went downstairs and there sat my oldest son, he had flown in from Colorado as a big surprise. We had no idea he was coming. We haven’t seen him for more than two years. It was a great and glorious surprise. 

He can’t stay the whole week, but any time is good. 

Life doesn’t always throw you curveballs, occasionally it gives you a big fat home run.

Yesterday I raked all of the leaves, today the lawn is covered

It is Sunday morning. It is also time change day.

Redacted long rant filled with curse words and hateful invective hurled upon the slimy politicians who refuse to rid us of this perfidious bi-annual nuisance.

We went to see a movie last night. I will not mention the title because it was without doubt one of the worst movies I have ever seen. How anyone Okayed the script is beyond my understanding. How anyone agreed to cough up money to produce that piece of garbage defies fiscal responsibility and logic. I don’t care who agreed to direct and star in that waste of digital celluloid, it is awful and a waste of my ticket money and it is time I’ll never get back. The popcorn was good. There, I had something nice to say about the experience, are you happy, Mom? Frankly, I was ready to leave by about six minutes in.

That says a lot. If I have anything I enjoy, it is watching movies. It is one thing my wife and I have in common. Our earliest dates, and most common ones when we were teens, were at the cinema. There is no doubt my favorite hobbies are watching movies and reading books, probably in that order. Yes, Dr. Freud, I believe escapism is the term you are searching for. I love watching a movie at the theater and I enjoy watching them on TV. Every weekend I watch at least a couple of movies on TV. I like almost any genre, but my interest skews to comedy, romcom, westerns, war, and action. I dig an old MGM musical. I am not much for sci-fi, and never horror. I do not like scary movies at all.

I guess, since you all know I ever search for the bright side of any situation, time change is a good thing today. It gives me an extra hour to watch a movie. Maybe I will see if I can find an old Esther Williams flick. She was my first crush, and all of that water will help wash that garbage last night from my mind.

Just Enough

 I’m in a great mood. It is not that. I really don’t have anything to say to you today.

I kinda, sorta, made the minimum effort though.

Forget The Holidays

Yeah, yeah, there is Thanksgiving. Then there is Christmas. Maybe you look forward to the New Year. The heck with all of that. Here is what has me excited almost beyond words:

I’ll be there. Even if the wife says “pass”, I’ll go by myself. 

Five pounds of crap in a one pound bag

I had weird dreams last night. I suppose it was the pot of chili I made for dinner. No, I won’t bore you with the details. There was no nekid involved, so why would anyone care? 

It is cold again this morning. Fall is here. I have beaucoup leaves to rake. And so right on cue, the wife wants more and different yard work done. I have two admittedly overgrown lilac bushes beside the patio. It wasn’t a problem until we rearranged the family room. I installed new blinds on the windows to replace the old shades. Now she can see those lilacs and wants them cut down. And the leaves are unsightly. 

Yes, I get it. “That rake fits your hand,” I said. 

To myself. 

The problem is I live in the burbs. If it doesn’t fit into those two trash bins it doesn’t get picked up unless I pay for a disposable dumpster or hire it hauled away. Those two lilacs are probably eight feet tall. I don’t care how small I cut up the branches I won’t get even one of the bushes in a bin.  Oh, and don’t forget the bags of leaves have to go somewhere. And we do create trash and garbage inside the house too. Mumble, mumble, no point in griping further. It is supposed to be a little warmer this weekend, so it is outside work I’ll do. I’m sure “we” will discuss the big pile of cut-down lilac bush piled out by the big willow around this time next week. 

This seems appropriate.

Onward to Thanksgiving!

 

Frida Kahlo (1907-1954) was a Mexican painter known for her many self-portraits and works inspired by the nature and artifacts of Mexico. 

She is my granddaughter’s favorite artist. 

Remember all of this, it will be important later.

Yesterday was cold and blustery. It spat snow all afternoon and evening. We had about 25 trick or treaters at the house: In the ten years we’ve lived here. Total. We had zero visits last night. At this point I doubt we can blame the weather, it is a pattern. That did not stop the wife from buying two bags of candy, however. She is the eternal optimist. Her response? “Oh well, at least it is the kinds we like.” Now I have to fight temptation every time I walk through the kitchen. I reminded her I’m diabetic. She smiled at me sweetly. 

Secretly, I think she wants to kill me. Not really. Maybe. 

The grandgirls were excited about a Halloween. They put on extra layers under their costumes. The youngest was a Frozen Princess — the one in blue, I can’t remember which is which, Anna or Elsa.

a little good news

If you haven’t bought my book yet, and I’m not sure why you haven’t, here is some good news. The E-book version will be offered at a reduced price this week. There is a link over there on the right that takes you direct to Amazon and the book.

If you did buy it, please throw up a review, even if it is a bad one. 

And if you have bought the book, either in paperback or electronic, thanks. I appreciate it.

And I hear it is Halloween. Here is the all-time classic:

Bitchin’

Okay, let’s cover all the complaint-worthy stuff quickly. It is cold, wet, Monday, and I have a follow-up at the eye surgeon this morning which means I will work through my lunch to make up lost time. Deep breath. And the Colts lost again. I swear the team has not had decent defense since sometime in the late 1700s. If they are going to play slow, short guys who cannot defend, they might as well let me suit up for the league minimum. Better yet, pull some random ticket holder from the stands. What better way to boost season ticket sales?

I’m not a Halloween fan. I hate scary movies. I will play you a scary Halloween-like song:

Maybe two:

Perseverance

My wife says I’m stubborn. Maybe it’s true, I’m not going to admit it in any case. 

My flowers are stubborn too. Witness this day lily. 

It might be almost November. We might have dipped below freezing. The plants might be covered in weeds and detritus. Yellow flower just doesn’t care. 

 

Pink Skies

This is my view to the west as I grilled a couple of nice ribeyes Thursday evening.

It was 75F. 

Fall will return this weekend. It was sure nice this week, though.

No words can soothe him

It is a Friday at last. I have, believe it or not, worked hard this week. And still I found time to write a few posts with actual content. That my friends, is something that hasn’t happened much around here lately. We both know it to be true.

Guess what, today ain’t gonna be one of those good content days. I’m offering fair warning, YouTube music will be involved. It will be that kind of Friday. 

The weather has been warm and nice all week and I’ve experienced it vicariously through the window next to my desk. It is my hope I can sneak out to the patio this afternoon and enjoy a short cigar before fall weather returns tomorrow. We shall see. I know emails were dropping fast and furious over night and last evening, so it depends on what level of unpleasantness I have to deal with when I fire up the computer this morning. How do I know work called all night? My phone sounds an alert with every email, WeChat, and Teams message — very handy and very annoying.

According to the neighborhood decorations and grandgirl’s excitement, Halloween is nearly here. How about some music to fit the season? Besides, it is an awesome tune.

just more climate change we are all gonna die BS

Do you see anything wrong in This article?  

...has brought water levels to unprecedented lows*

To  summarize, river levels are down. Ancient carvings are visible. If the water has never been this low — unprecedented — then how were the carvings done? 

You have to start being a little skeptical about the climate change hyperbole. 

* emphasis mine

Inconvenient Facts

Can we get a few things straight? 

Israel is not “colonizers”. There have been Jews living there for thousands of years. If you want sources beyond the Bible or Koran, the Roman historians Josephus and Livy describe it as such. If you refer to Israel as colonizers you are a moron. 

There is no apartheid in Israel. There are no required separate laws, buses, drinking fountains, hotels, schools, or restaurants for non-Jews. There are non-Jewish residents. They live, work, and vote as citizens of Israel. Gaza has been recognized as an independent territory. It elects it’s own governing body. In this case the residents of Gaza chose Hamas. Yes, they have separate ID and license plates. Indiana has separate ID and license plates from Ohio. Canada is different than the US. That doesn’t mean there is apartheid.

But there are checkpoints! Yes, we have them at the border (supposedly) also. Oh, and why you are in hysterics that Israel has a border checkpoint with the Gaza terrorists, you might note that Egypt has a border checkpoint with Gaza too. 

Why not drop the pretense and admit you hate Israel and stop with the petty excuses? The Jews are not the ones with a charter demanding the elimination of a people, that would be Hamas. Hamas continues to send rockets randomly into Israel targeting civilians, yet we are worried only about the collateral damage in Gaza. I suspect if terrorists were  dropping explosive rockets on your city and town you would have no issue retaliating. 

If you are part of the blame Israel crowd, you are no more than anti-Semitic nazis. 

As always there is rebuttal space in the comment section. More importantly, if I really offend you, there is no need for you to visit. I will be okay without bigots in my life.

Baaa

 Here we find ourselves on a beautiful fall Tuesday that feels incredibly like a Thursday. Alas, the weekend is far over the horizon in this work week. 

Yesterday was warm and clear, so I threw some burgers on the grill, made up some homemade macaroni salad and baked beans for dinner. It was a nice supper. We are expecting continued warm weather today, so I might grill some chicken or steak. I have to check the freezer. 

I am floored by the support for terrorists and proponents of ethnic cleansing in this country. Hamas has stated in no uncertain terms their goal is to eliminate Israel. BLM, the SPLC, academic groups — shame on you. And it is a unfulfilled wish that the Jews in this country will finally see the harm voting Democrat and Liberal has done to Israel and their religion. Too many of God’s Chosen really are sheep. I know, it will not happen.

mom

In writing my semi-crappy novel I wish I’d changed a few things before publishing. There are a couple of typos. I need more contractions. Cappy says so. I do too. 

I should have thanked my mom. She shared her love of reading with me. She encouraged me to read. She didn’t complain much when I spent nearly every waking moment until I left for college with my nose stuck in a book. 

Did she know I read whatever she was reading after she went to bed at night, even if it was not appropriate for a ten or twelve year old? Likely. She occasionally give me a couple of dollars she could ill-afford to buy a paperback from the rack at Hook’s drugs. She bought me books for Christmas or my birthday. She bought cheap bookshelves to store all of my books in my increasingly crowded bedroom. In short, I owe my mother a debt of gratitude. 

Mom died five years ago today. I read the post I wrote after she died. It didn’t do her justice. It made her seem a cold hard woman. My mother was a perfectionist. She expected it of others. Mostly, she expected it of herself, including being a mom. She came pretty close. I mean that in the best way possible. 

If I ever write another novel, a doubtful proposition, I will thank my mother. 

I miss you mom.

I know I keep you amused, but I feel I'm being used

Saturday is here. Unfortunately it will not be a day of lazing around, of relaxation, of indolence. It appears we are off to visit relatives this afternoon and then later to our friends for dinner and euchre. Don’t get me wrong, it will be fun. It means any work I might have done now gets shoved into Sunday. I know the wife will drag out the picture frames and assorted honey do projects just when I think it is essential to watch a little football. Complain, complain. So what? I’m good at it. 

Deleted long whining rant

Oh well, it is a beautiful fall Saturday. We are going to spend it with loved ones and with great friends. Life is good. 

Have a great weekend. 

You know what we need? Some music.

Dear Joe Biden

Why in the world should we give money to Gaza? The elected government there (by overwhelming majority) is Hamas. Of course they will use the money to attack Israel. The stated goal of f Hamas is to eliminate the Jewish state. 

In your rambling, almost incoherent speech last night you tried to make some tenuous moral equivalence on why we should keep pouring money into Ukraine. If your logic holds true, shouldn’t we then give money to Russia for the cities hit by Ukrainian drone attacks? 

Hamas started this war, we are told they are a legitimate government. Let them take care of their people. Let the f-ing UN take care of those people. It is not up to Israel, nor the US, to provide the necessities to the people of Gaza. Let Hamas care for their loved ones. 

Maybe, just maybe, if things get bad enough, the people of Gaza will turn out the terrorists running the place and try make peace. For eighty years they have wanted to fight Israel and every time the Palestinians are met with defeat. I think Arabs need a harsh refresher course. Throughout history the people rise up when their government becomes intolerable. For the Palestinians they have a real opportunity to see what terrorism reaps. 

This is what a weak President gets us in the world. 

Before you slip into unconsciousness

I’ve had Chrystal Ship by The Doors stuck in my head for several days now. There could be worse songs, Afternoon Delight for instance. What is playing on a constant loop in my brain pan isn’t the whole song, just a bit of the last stanzas and music that comes near the end. I don’t know. I no psychologist. I barely got a C the one semester of the subject I took in college. 

I’m sipping coffee before getting ready to head back to the massive trade show here in Louisville for another day of walking the show looking for leads. I saw lots of potential yesterday. Of course my widgets were already there, built into several manufacturers who had equipment on display. If you have black and yellow tools, or red tools, or orange tools, then my company is helping make them work. Especially the black and yellow ones and the brand that was once owned by Sears. You should buy the black and yellow tools at every opportunity. I’m just saying. Help me keep food on the table. I cannot go back to routine meals of pancakes or Spam several times a week. 

Enjoy your Thursday. 

No, I’m not going to post the Doors tune. I don’t have to put up music every day.

And for the good news

Okay, I’m not dead. I’m just busy. I have a massive project due at the beginning of November and I have to travel this week. 

I hesitate to claim there is no bad news because that is a sure invitation for calamity. 

The new sectional arrived yesterday. One of the delivery guys was so malodorous his BO smell linger long after they assembled the couch and departed. I had to light a candle to cover the stink. I hooked up the TV and we were able to sit on the new furniture and watch the big screen in bliss and comfort. 

Here is some mid-week music to keep you occupied:

Kung Fu Fighting

 It is Monday, back to work. I groaned as I climbed from bed, not because it is a work day, but because my body hurts. Cleaning, moving furniture, painting, up and down the ladder, stooping, and squatting leaves my muscles sore and my back aching. I need a real work day parked in my office chair to rest up. And since I’m complaining, after a week’s vacation I have hundreds of emails to deal with. It all beats unemployment! 

The downstairs is still completely wrecked with toys and furniture piled into the dining room and living room, waiting on the new sectional to be delivered Tuesday. Then we can start on getting everything back in shape, except I’m supposed to travel this week! It hope I can get the TV hooked back up for the wife before I have to go. Otherwise, she is stuck watching the little 36” tv in my office. 

I wish I had something more interesting. That’s life on this blog. I’m not sure why you bother. 

Back in ‘68

 How about some Sunday music?

The family room and kitchen are all painted. I need to put up the switch and plug covers. We have new blinds I have to mount, replacing the crappy shades that were in the family room. Later today I will clean the carpet. The old couch and chair were hauled away Saturday and the new sectional couch will be delivered on Tuesday. The change is going to be nice. The kitchen was a dark red before, now it and the family room are a light tan or beige. The room is much brighter and since both rooms are now the same color — they are open to each other — the space looks larger. 

Then will be the task of hanging pictures and “fighting” with the wife on which is more accurate, her eyeball or my level. In the end she wins, because her satisfaction is more important than the law of gravity. 

thank you, thank you very much.

Werewolves will not eat ghosts because they taste like sheet.

Is a dream a lie if it don't come true

 Later today and continuing through the weekend I will be painting. Or at least I will once the wife decides what color she wants the walls. We are redoing the family room/ kitchen which are open and connected. I’ve been telling her all week to get the paint, that I don’t want to work all night, I’m a morning person, blah, blah, now my voice sounds just like a teacher in a Charlie Brown cartoon...

All of that is a long-winded notice you probably won’t get a post this weekend. You will be okay. 

His politics suck, but I dig this tune:

Have a great Friday.

On the Middle East

Sherman had it right. When the opposing force is hurt enough, when everything is destroyed, when men are worried about their families, then they lose the will to fight. Do you think we worried about collateral damage when we bombed every German city with a population over 20,000 or when we firebombed Tokyo? Israel should make continued fighting so horrible Hamas cries no mas, or the equivalent in Farsi. 

Israel has put up with enough. When you enemy has vowed to destroy you, there is no peace at any price. Hamas has stated they want to destroy the Jews. That isn’t apartheid, it is segregating your enemies. The living conditions of the so-called Palestinians are the equal responsibility of the surrounding Arab states. 

This current awful state of affairs lies at the feet of Joe Biden. He gave Iran SIX BILLION DOLLARS. Months later Hamas has hang gliders, rockets, and weapons to wage war. There are no political coincidences.

Is there no one in the Biden administration who noticed the havoc and death wreaked by terrorists crossing Isrseli borders and look south towards our sieve of a Mexican border and wonder just who is coming into our country? 

Musical Interlude

 

Way too early

So there we were in Gateway Arch City yesterday for reasons. The wife and I ducked into a mall for different reasons. None of that is relevant. Try to keep up.

Anyway, I’m sitting in a chair in the mall, playing with my phone and people watching when the background music seeps into my ears. 

WTH? Can it be? It is! They are playing Christmas music. 

Look, if you have read here for at least a year, you know I dig Christmas tunes. Not in early October. Sheesh, Santa better not be watching yet. 

I get the big box stores are starting to drag their stuff out, at least they aren’t playing White Christmas yet.

Are We Covered?

Monday. Weather. Whatever I did over the weekend. Busy. Post done.

Music. 

Some of you will get it.

Since I’m already worked up to righteous indignation

I had a meaningful, thought out, topical post all composed in my head for today’s entry. It was a commentary on an article I read yesterday. Alas, I thought I saved a link but now I cannot find it. I even tried an internet search to no avail. Without the original article my comments are not germane. 

So instead of ranting about a racist asshole who can’t see his position on gentrification of his neighborhood is no different than the bigots who railed against black families moving in the house next door in the mid twentieth century, I will complain about a different topic. 

The wife and I went to a fall festival yesterday. There were booths of crafts and junk and food trucks and a mass of people. It was crowded. The park surrounding Potter’s Bridge was packed. So of course a significant number of the “look at me, I need attention “ crowd thought their dogs needed to come along. In most cases the dogs were overwhelmed by the press of the crowds and over-stimulated by the event. 

Sure your dog likes a walk in the park, but not when there are thousands of people surrounding him. One self-absorbed Karen pushed her dog in a stroller. These are the same jerks that bring their dogs to Lowes and Home Depot, as if your schnauzer could help you choose just the right faucet for that half-bath remodel. 

If you are one of those people, just stop. It isn’t necessary. 

Attack of the Eighties

There was not much of a post this morning, despite rolling out of bed before 5 AM. 

What? “Why?” You ask. I wish I knew. So I moseyed downstairs, took my morning meds, and made some coffee. I then retired to the office. I read blogs, read the news, and started work. I am trying to get everything done today. 

You see, I’m on vacation next week. I have no idea what we are going to do. As of lunchtime the wife was still trying to decide. Me, I don’t care. I’m always up for a road trip. Maybe you will get posts next week. Maybe you won’t. 

I know this, it is a good thing you don’t pay for content around here. 

If you bought my book and thought “I can’t believe I paid for that,” then I say you haven’t been paying attention to this blog for the past eighteen years. You had a fair, if subtle, warning on my abilities. 

Anyway, I think I have my month end stuff done and I’m nearly caught up on emails. 

Here is some Friday music. Enjoy. 

Da Bear hisself

 One of my childhood sports heroes passed away. RIP Mr. Butkus.

Curmudgeonisms

I sat on the patio late yesterday afternoon enjoying a short cigar. Leaves fell softly as the sun warmed my face. It was 87 degrees. More than pleasant for early October. I played hooky from work for a quick hour because starting today, fall is here. 

Sure, it officially arrived a couple of weeks ago, but the thermometer still insisted it was summer. Today we will see a rainy cool day and then temperatures drop to a more appropriate sixties. 

I expect I will complain about raking leaves in the coming weeks. So it goes.

On a completely unrelated note, wouldn’t it be nice for an artist to appear on The Voice and have no tragic death, no illness, no trauma, no bullying in their life? How about a “ I had a great childhood, I love to sing!” The endless “this is for my grandpa who died eight years ago” trope gets old. 

Sure, I can put up some music. I’m glad you asked.

I know, let’s talk about me!

This post is about my little book. If you haven’t bought it, You should. If you haven’t read it, I don’t think I will give away any spoilers. I have had a couple of questions about my story, so I will answer them now, before People, or TMZ, or the Today Show get around to seeking interviews. 

My wife is alive and well. She is not dead, and I certainly do not wish she was dead.

I have both legs. They work fine. I suppose the 12 weeks I spent in a boot and on crutches had a severe impact on my psyche. I don’t know. Since the beginning chapters were written about a decade ago (and appeared in a similar form) here on the old blog, I don’t think that trauma from a couple of years ago played into the character. It did help  me describe the issues getting around one-legged. 

I stated right on this blog about a year ago I would call any book I would ever write Suburban Moon, even if it had nothing to do with the novel. I had not even started writing at that point. But I kept my word. And no, the title has nothing to do with the book. 

It is not an autobiography. It is fiction, no matter the subtitle. I will simply say “Gertrude Stein” and leave it at that. No, I am not comparing myself to MS Stein, it is merely a nod. 

There is a bunch of autobiographical filler. I’m a salesman. I’ve been to most of those places. I have never been to Mt Rushmore nor the Custer Battlefield. I have been to the Buddy Holly crash site. I was once told I should write what I know. Thus the “me” in the book is how I avoided doing a bunch of research or talking about stiff I don’t know about. 

I’ve never been to jail. I’ve never been arrested. 

I was never bullied in school. That part is made up and that story also also made an appearance here on the blog many years ago. 

I don’t drink whiskey, bourbon, nor scotch. I can’t stand the stuff. I had an unfortunate overindulgence way back in high school and developed a learned taste aversion. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I was drunk. It’s been a long time — maybe once in the last twenty years. 

If you bought the book, please leave a review at Amazon. The more stars, the better it sells. Go ahead and leave a bad review, I have no illusions, just give me stars and reviews.

I'm sorry

Someone called yesterday trying to sell me a casket. 

I told them that was the last thing I would ever need.

Monday morning you sure look fine

Monday is here. No complaints about that from me, I’m thankful for my job. I actually like my work. Sunday could have been better. Meaningful baseball is done until April, at least for the Cubs who choked away September in a manner reminiscent of 1969. The Colts staged a mighty comeback after a dismal first half only to fall in overtime. 

I went to the doctor for a routine check Friday. He concluded my handful of different meds I’ve been taking for a while isn’t working anymore. My A1c has been steady in spite of increased dosages. So starting Friday night I’m poking insulin in my belly. I guess I was able to hold off injecting insulin for eleven or twelve years. But I’m still not thrilled with it. And the alternative is kidney failure, stroke, heart attack, loss of limbs, death. I guess a little stab in the gut isn’t a big deal. 

Have a great Monday.

October Fools Day

The Cubs are ending the season in about the most Cubs way possible. Sigh. 

So, it is interesting, I had no intention of having a print version of my crappy book. I really did it so I could have one to prove to myself and future relatives I really wrote something, no matter how dubious the quality.* I never expected to sell paperback versions at a 2-1 rate over the ebook. Just so you know, my royalties are nearly identical, no matter which version you purchase. I do appreciate all of you who have purchased my book.

October is Halloween month. From the only monster movie I will watch:

*Some sales pitch, isn’t it? You would never know that is my profession.