Partying on Martha’s Vinyard with the Obama

I cannot believe I am still struggling to write the music post I started last Saturday. That is crazy for me. I’ve told you before, most of my posts are extemporaneous. Perhaps even impromptu. I sit down and write. The notion that I have worked on a post on and off for a week leaves me baffled. The problem is to do it right will fill a college blue book. We are talking mid-term paper effort. Frankly, I don’t want to put in that much work and anything else just won’t do the topic justice. 

The end result is the post will join the growing pile of draft post, hidden from electronic sunlight until my heirs publish them in an endless series of “lost works” anthologies after my famous self has returned to dust, like the cash-hungry heirs of Jimi Hendrix and Louis L’Amour have done. Seriously, how many times can you repackage the same old material and pass it off as something new? I see my family digging up the unpublished stuff cluttering the electronic draft folder, fading in old spiral notebooks, and on yellowing sheets of scrap paper. The public will no doubt demand it. 

What? Rest assured, I am confident my genius is going to be recognized and rewarded in my lifetime. The day is coming when I will be named by acclamation as Supreme Ruler and Potentate of all the Land, Water, and Atmosphere, Arbiter of all Things, and All Around Great Guy. This blog will be all the evidence needed to show people how to think, live, and behave. 

You are welcome. And if you stick around long enough you might even get to see the unrequited efforts hidden in the unpublished draft category. 

Oh, I got a new job. Back on the road. Outside sales. Not where I was financially. Above where I am. 

You really should always read through to the end of my bullshit.

Have a great Saturday.

Building to a crescendo

Red Light

 Two elderly women were out driving in a large car. Both could barely see over the dashboard. Cruising along, they came to an intersection. The stoplight was red, but they just went on through. The woman in the passenger seat thought, “I must be losing my mind. I swear we just went through a red light.”

A few minutes later, they came to another intersection, and the light was red again. Again, they went right through. This time, the woman in the passenger seat was almost sure that the light had been red but was really concerned that she was mistaken. She was getting nervous and decided to pay very close attention to the next intersection to see what was going on.

At the next intersection, sure enough, the light was definitely red, and yet they went right through. She turned to the woman driving and said, “Mildred! Did you know we just ran through three red lights in a row! You could have killed us!”

Mildred turned to her and said, “Oh, am I driving?”

Crap, I published yet another post without a title, but I fixed it now (sorta)

Lightning is flashing and thunder is rumbling to the south and east as I hunt and peck on the little iPad keyboard. According to the weather app, a thunderstorm cell is just a few miles away towards Indy, but it looks like it will miss me. Mostly.

I’m up early. Stuff on my mind. Plus I must have flexed my toes on my right foot in my sleep because a jolt of mild pain in my foot woke me up. Then, because I’m old and a man, I had to pee. By the time I grabbed the crutches and finally got to the bathroom, etc., I just stayed up. 

I’ve not watched a Cubs game since the big sell off. Big deal you mutter. I usually watch around 125-130 of the 162 game regular schedule. Yes, I watch a lot of baseball. I haven’t really even followed the daily box scores much. Ive done that since I was about eight or nine when I started doing it as I read the daily newspaper. I’ll get over it. It’s just going to take a couple of minutes.

I may have some big news to report later. You should probably check back often. Ten or twelve times today seems about right. You do that and I’ll get 45 or 50 hits today! 

In other news, I remember now why I hated second shift back when I worked it in 1986 or so. You get home too late and you go in too early to get anything done. My current 12:30-900 schedule really chops up the day. I feel like I haven’t had a decent meal in weeks. But paycheck.

The Republicans Charlie Browns are about to get Lucy’d with the “infrastructure “ football yet again. For supposed “career” politicians they are sure bad at politics. Oh, and don’t worry Senator Todd Young, we will not forget your role in bringing this boondoggle to the floor, even if you vote against it now. Too late. You should have studied what happened to Evan Bayh and Dick Luger when they betrayed their conservative Hoosier voters, you Rino turd.

Have a great Tuesday, amigos.

I am you and what I see is me

Sorry. I’m working on what is turning out to be a more difficult and lengthy post than I’d originally thought. Oh, it is nothing of earth shattering weightiness, just a discussion of music, but actual research needs to be done. To provide the background info may mean the post could turn into a series of posts and I’m not convinced either of us cares that much. 

Behind the curtain

I threw a very small ham steak in the skillet while I chopped a jalapeño from my garden into tiny bits. I stirred three eggs with the peppers and added some small bacon pieces from a jar. The real kind, not the artificial bacon bits. I flipped the ham and dropped it on my plate. I threw a little butter in the hot ham skillet and when it was melted and foamy I poured in the eggs. After a quick scramble I plated the eggs with the ham, sprinkled a little shredded co-jack cheese on top of the eggs and hobbled over to the table. The coffee was hot, the glass of milk was cold and breakfast was fit for a king. 

My kitchen is not large. The sink is on one wall with the stove, pantry, and refrigerator opposite. The right wall is cabinets and counter. The left is open to the family room and small eating area. The dining room we don’t use is behind the right wall. Luckily, there’s an island in the middle. Things are spaced just right where I can use the counters and island as sort of permanent crutches, where I swing around from sink to stove to island prep without too much trouble. Still, I’m hopping and swinging around on one leg. I can just reach the breakfast table from the island. 

I cleaned the mess. I balanced precariously on one leg as I loaded the dishwasher. Sated, tired, and done I grabbed my coffee, mounted my knee scooter and rolled over to the couch. 

I picked up my iPad and started typing. “I threw a very small ham steak in the skillet...”. 

Wise wisdom

Arguing with a woman is like buying a lottery ticket. You know you're not gonna win, but you're sure as hell gonna try.

Shut up Karen

Get vaccinated. Don’t. Your choice.

Don't expect me to mask up to protect you from yourself. 

Don’t expect me to believe the Biden* Administration really cares about protecting the American people when they let tens of thousands of illegals cross the border with no concern at all if they are a Covid infected or not. 

It’s all a Hypocrisy Theater for the gullible Karens who need something to fill their boring lives. 

Random Randy

 Randy was in the hospital for a complete check-up.

At 11:00AM, they brought him soup for lunch. He refused it.
At 2:00PM, they again tried to serve him some soup, which he refused.
Again, at 5:00PM and 7:00PM, they tried, and both times Randy turned down the soup, so they gave up.
In preparation for the next day’s test, they entered his room at 3:00AM, 4:30AM, and 6:00AM and gave him an enema each time.
When Randy got home from the hospital after the tests, he told his wife, “Whatever you do, if you go to that hospital and they try to serve you soup, take it!
If you refuse it, they sneak in while you’re asleep and shove it up your ass!

upteenth update

I had my surgical follow up this morning. Everything seems to be healing nicely. The stitches were removed. I can now put up to fifty pounds of weight on my foot, as long as I have the boot on. So what, you say? That  helps me balance in the bathroom and as I get up to my crutches at the top of the stairs, etc. It will be a great help every time I transition from sitting to standing. In a pinch, I might be able to drive! 

In other news, I have nuthin’. Kim duToit has a very nice post this morning that pretty much sums up why my political rants are more infrequent these days. I am not sure if you want more politics from me or not. 

Have a great Monday. I have insurance bureaucrats to yell at. 

A bloke named Smokey

My brain skews a certain way, and usually it is the interpretation of a 13 year old. It is just the way it is. For instance I noticed a vanity plate on a vehicle in front of me the other day. I see stuff ‘cause I ain’t driving. How would you interpret this plate?

HDR PLS

Don’t let my potential juvenile translation color your answer. Let me note it was on a light blue minivan. What do you see?

We went and bought me some new work pants yesterday. It has been a long time since  I had to dress in business casual every day and three pairs of good pants weren’t cutting it. The wife had some good coupons for Kohl’s and the pants were on sale. 

I haven’t posted any music for a while. This was bouncing around in my head this morning. I know I said I would feature tunes from ‘71, but it is my blog until it’s not, so...

How about this version featuring the sexy Ms Boop?

Have a great Sunday

if you want to get down, down on the ground

Saturday morning;  ablutions done, prayers offered, coffee brewed, I’m ready for the day. As I plopped on the couch I realized I left my phone on the charger next to the bed. I am not up to riding the knee scooter to the stairs, backing up said stairs on my butt, hiking myself up from the floor on crutches, hobbling to the bedroom, creeping along in the dark as quiet as clunking metal crutches allow, to grab my phone. Then I would repeat this in reverse, all that effort expended just so I can get a dozen spam calls before noon. Maybe after my coffee. 

The Cubs completed their dismantling of the team yesterday. For once I’m not sure I can stomach the losses to come over the balance of the year. 

It looks like more lock downs and mask mandates are on the horizon. I reluctantly went along before. I figured it was pointless, but couldn’t hurt. This time I will not be so cooperative. 

It seems Big Box home improvement failed to code my claim correctly in June. They approved my leave, but didn’t put me in for short term disability. I don’t understand, since the first words out of my mouth when I finally got through the multitudes of phone trees was “I want to file for short term disability “. Now they text me I have to get more forms filled out from my doctor.* So Monday, my insurance company and I will have an ugly conversation. They can see I have a broken foot that had to be repaired surgically from the useless FLA leave they approved. In the meantime I haven’t been paid for a month. To say I’m pissed would be an understatement. I won’t win over the bureaucracy, but I will make a pain of myself in the interim. So far, I can’t even get a supervisor to call me back. 

I know I’ve started a new job, but they owe me three weeks of pay. 

I know you feel bad for me. If you loved me you would fry up some bacon and over easy eggs. That would mollify my angst. 

That’s what I thought. 

Oh well, have a great Saturday. I plan on it.

*see previous post on this bureaucratic nightmare.

I’m beyond sad

The Rickets family has learned what old man Wrigley and The Tribune figured out — they don’t need to put a quality team on the field to make money with the Chicago Cubs. It started when the team traded a top pitcher for teenagers this spring and continues with the fire sale this week. 

At least the Wrigley family never got rid of Ernie Banks. The Rickets have no such compassion for the fans as they dumped the modern Mr. Cub, Anthony Rizzo, for another pair of distant prospects. To rub salt in the wound, Chicago will pay his salary to the Yankees. WTF? 

Kris Bryant will likely be gone by tomorrow afternoon and the fans can look forward to a dismal balance of the season and  more of the lousy teams going forward we suffered prior to 2014. 

The problem is we are no longer proud of being lovable losers. Fans have gotten a taste of winning and have no interest in going back to supporting money grubbing billionaire owners who only care about the next buck. 

Chicken Dinner

As of 8:39 this morning I am a licensed insurance producer in Indiana. Well, to be accurate, I passed the State exam. Licensing will come soon, a mere formality. I’m happy, I guess. I proved that I can still study and learn after more than three and a half decades since ending my formal education. I will brag and crow that I consistently had the highest scores in my in class practice exams. Take that, you Millennial slackers. See what happens when education focuses on learning not self-esteem? You learn how to study and retain material.*

My happiness is tempered because I always swore I would never sell cars nor insurance. So it goes. Eating and a roof over my head trump pride. Next I get to start three weeks of sales training. I’ve been selling stuff since 1993. I will endeavor to forget what I know and toe the company line. We can always learn how to be better. See above.

On the bright side I get the remainder of the day off with pay.

Winner, winner.

* the three oldest people in the pre-licensing class consistently had the highest scores on every practice quiz and test. I find that interesting. None of us had an insurance background.

Friday I got travelin’ on my mind

Pundits all seem to think the Democratic hold on the Senate and possibly the House will come to an end in next year’s midterms. I’m not so sanguine. Money is a powerful incentive and the monthly kash  for kids handouts are going to buy a lot of votes. Lots and lots of votes. 

Consider, you are a middle class or lower family and your budget was just infused with $300, $600, $900 in cash. That’s a couple of car payments, or a good chunk of rent or your mortgage.. Now you can replace that clothes dryer that squeaks and squeals like a pig caught in an electric fence. You can take those kids to Disney. You can get that Apple Watch you have lusted over. 

So you find yourself sitting on your new couch bought by this kash for kids largess next fall when you see a political ad telling you that candidate D is going to make sure that money train keeps chugging and might even increase it. More importantly, the ad tells you that candidate R wants to take that Kash for Kids away.

Sam Sixpack doesn’t care about the weakening dollar or the National Debt or inflationary actions of the governments policies. He knows prices are going up and he needs that money. There is no cause and effect in play. It’s about money, stupid. And guess how he is going to vote? 

He might even think about having another kid. 

First you love me

Saturday is finally here, and I am happy for more than one reason. We are off today to hang with friends at their pool. I won’t be able to enjoy the cool waters, but I will luxuriate vicariously while sipping cold beers and smoking large stogies lovingly rolled between the thighs of nubile Carribean Queens. Shutup, I have my fantasy. Who wants to imagine they are poking a stick of tobacco leaves in their mouth rolled between the stained gnarled fingers of an old toothless crone?

My first week is in at big call center. Training galore. I can’t say I like it much. That’s why I get paid to do it. There are not too many jobs offering big salaries to sit around reading, watching movies, and tossing down popcorn, diet Dr Pepper and red licorice. It’s more money than Big Box Retail, and slightly less odious hours, so I’m better off.  There are still a few opportunities for outside sales on the burner. I can only hope. At this point since I can neither walk nor drive, a fast resolution is not in my best interest. 

We need to get a resident handyman. The yard needs mowed. Additional chicken wire needs strung to keep the rabbits out of the garden. The little bastards have eaten every tomato on the lower branches. A shelf collapsed in the wife’s closet yesterday. The builder used those cheap wire shelves and didn’t bother putting the support arms into studs. Of course it is the one up high. I’m not sure I can reach it to fix it without standing on a ladder. If so, that’s a task I’m not ready to attempt one-legged. I might manage if I can reach it standing on the floor.

I haven’t been up to survey the damage yet. Of course if she didn’t overload the shelving....I might as well argue with the tomato stealing rabbits.

I don’t want any of this to sound like complaining because I’m not. Stuff happens and you deal with it. Life is good. We all have problems. I just get to whine about mine here. See, life is good. 

Have a great Saturday.

Not so Tiny Tim-ing it

Good morning blog world. If you tuned in for riveting updates you are about to be disappointed. Things remain the same around here. I’m in low pain. Very tired by the end of the day. I’m learning to get around and to expend less energy doing so. 

The new gig is as boring as starting a new job usually is. Things should get more interesting starting today. 

There you are updated. 

I know you were worried. Hah!

I’ve got Tuesday on my mind

 I am up. I did my one-legged shower thing. Crawled back down the stairs. Sitting here already exhausted. I’m wearing Dockers and a polo. I’m off to work. Not at the big box, but at a slightly better crappy job, handling inbound calls at a big insurance giant. No not that one, the other one. I won’t be calling you, rest assured, inbound calls only..

It is not my old job for sure. It is still hourly, but at much higher rates than the other guys. It is a desk job, no more heavy lifting. I’m a little concerned about going in right after surgery but that was how it had to be. 

I have a knee scooter, which should help me navigate better than crutches. 

Unfortunately the whole get upstairs, shave, shower, get dressed thing leaves me so exhausted (not even 1 once of weight can go on my right foot - try it for about five minutes) that I’m ready to puke marathon runner style before my day even starts. 

So it goes. God has blessed me with a physically easier job at higher pay and I am thankful.

Have a great Monday.

wrapped like a Christmas package

 

I am home alive and well. The doc says the surgery was a success. Initially yesterday morning he told us after more study of my anatomy it may not be possible to screw the break back together. He might have to use a plate. He would know better when he got in there. He told my wife post op he was able to get the screw in and very tight after all, which was the far better option. 

So far my pain level has been low. No worse than before anyway — which was low. Perhaps there is something good to come out of diabetic neuropathy! Seriously, it has been manageable. I took my first narcotic at around midnight when I went to bed.

My mental anguish is different. I can put no weight whatsoever on the foot. And I have to keep it elevated as much as possible. I’m Long John Silvering it, navigating on crutches. Do you have any idea how hard it is to pee standing on one leg? Even getting up and down to girl pee is difficult. I don’t trust the towel holder to support my weight. I’m kind of pushing up on one crutch until I can reach the edge of the sink in the half bath. I suppose over the next couple of weeks I will learn to power drive my weight up and down using my left leg only.

Worse is having to be waited on by my wife. She rolled her eyes when I complained about having to just lie there on my back. She told me I wasn’t getting bed sores, no matter how much I insisted. I had been home an hour and a half at that point. She is a saint. I think her hearing is getting bad though. She asked me if I wanted anything and she apparently thought I said cookies instead of nookie. I am pretty content with the batch of oatmeal scotches she made. 

I am bummed that I can’t look at the wound. I have to leave it wrapped up until my follow up visit in two weeks. 

So far the biggest issue is that I absolutely cannot go to sleep on my back. I struggled the whole night. I remember it took weeks to be able to even moderately sleep on my back after my eye surgeries. Eventually exhaustion will win out. 

Again this whole minor episode gives me a chance to complain, a skill at which I am a master.

Have a great Saturday. I will be on the couch cruising through Mad Men and anything else I can find to combat my increasing boredom.

Bureaucracy Rules All

I got an email from my short term disability insurance provider this morning. The doctor still hasn’t submitted the forms for my claim. A call to the doctors office got me voice mail. I eventually got a real person who told me it takes a week to ten days to fill out the paperwork. I was very polite and nice, believe it or not. I asked how it can take so long to answer 8 questions on three pages? One was my name. One was the doctor’s name. One asked if I was pregnant. That leaves five questions.Seriously, how long can it take to cut and paste from my medical record? 

I pointed out that I am not getting paid from work and that bills and groceries etc. are depending on a timely effort on the part of her office. I got a yeah but...ten days. I told her I had a firm deadline for submission by early next week and I better not get denied because of the doctors office bureaucracy. 

I might as well have discussed it with the neighbor’s dog. 

I’m getting cut and screwed tomorrow morning. You will certainly not get a post tomorrow. Maybe Saturday. We shall see. I’ll likely be bored out of my mind sitting and resting. I might add I’m not sure how much longer I can refrain from dropping a political rant. Social programs are not “ infrastructure “. If you think so you are a moron.

I’m still not sure how I’m going to navigate the stairs. I suppose I’ll stay downstairs until I absolutely have to go up and stay up until I absolutely need to go back down. I hate the idea of my wife waiting on me, bringing food and drink, etc. I remember the days after my eye surgeries when I needed help to navigate even to the bathroom and it as awful. I am not a good patient. 

My daughter brought over a meal for us to have this weekend. She says she will bring over more tonight. That’s very kind. I have the best daughter ever. I told that wasn’t necessary. She whispered “you know Mom can’t cook”. 

Anyway, have a good weekend. I’ve made other plans.