My Tuesday was easy. Wednesday should be OK. Then it gets ... interesting.
About 10 days ago I told you about my recent doctor's visit. How they found my heart was beating too fast, so they wanted me to see the cardiologist in Marquette.
That's why I'm driving up to Marquette on Thursday. They are going to give me some tests, which appear to be the same tests I have had up there every year or so for about 10 years.I plan to leave here at about 6:45 a.m. The drive is about two hours long, and the tests start at 9 Central time. The thing of it is, they don't want me to have anything to eat or drink after midnight. So I'm looking forward (not really) to a long, thirsty drive. I hope they let me chew gum--something, at least, to get some moisture in my mouth. I hate it when my mouth is dry.
The information they mailed to me calls it an "echocardiogranm with cardiac doppler and Myoview stress test." What it means is that they are going to inject a radioactive dye in a vein, take some pictures, then do a stress test (treadmill) and take more pictures. I don't like the treadmill; I can walk fairly fast but no faster, and they keep increasing the speed of the belt (they're also increasing the angle to make it harder). They don't let you run, either.
The letter gave a long list of "do nots." "Do not smoke four hours prior to the test." Do I ever? "Do not eat or drink anything after midnight." Grumble, grumble. "Do not take your diabetic medicine, but do bring it with you." Uhhh, what? "Do not wear underwire bras." I'll try. "Do not wear shirts/blouses with zippers/snaps or embroidery/beadwork." Don't worry; I'm no rhinestone cowboy. "Do not have any coffee, decaffeinated beverages, caffeinated beverages or caffeinated food 24 hours before the test." By caffeinated food, they mean anything with chocolate. Not too many options for beverages, right?
Anyway, they do the test. Later they send me a letter telling me what the cardiologist learned from it. The weather should be OK, at least. Once I'm done there (about noon), I get to have lunch (yay!) and then drive south to Iron Mountain, where the district volleyball tournament takes place that evening. Maybe I'll stop over to see my mom, too. I'll probably get back home about 9 p.m. It's going to be a long day.
On Friday, I'm covering a football district championship game, and Saturday is the other volleyball district tourney. Those two are short drives. It's tourney time; the regular season is over.
It's relatively quiet here during November, but there is a very real chance I will have to drive down to Detroit during Thanksgiving week for the state high school football finals. If so, it would be the fourth consecutive year I will miss Thanksgiving at home. I like football and I like seeing our team win ... but I would happier just staying home on Thanksgiving for once.
Anyway, it's a situation I have absolutely no control over. Time will tell. I had noticed that the Red Wings are playing at home Wednesday night, so I told my son that maybe I'd like to do that. But later I saw what the ticket prices are like to see an NHL game in Detroit ... so I told him to forget about; we can have a better time at his apartment, watching the game on TV and messing around.
Yesterday, with winter on its way, I got some new tires for my car--I had to; the old ones had a lot of miles on them. So far, no snow has fallen here. The weather has remained mild for the most part. On Tuesday, there was hardly a cloud in the sky and temperatures were in the low 60s (16C). Up here, of course, that can change on short notice.
Today, on Halloween, it's cloudier, cooler and windy, and tonight I will be getting pictures at a kids' Halloween parade here in town. Chilly kids in Halloween costumes. Then more shots at a kids' party in another town about 15 miles away. That one's indoors.
Some people in that town did up a big "haunted house" in a old school building, and it really sounded like fun. They had that last weekend. I was covering football on Friday. On Saturday I took my wife to Iron Mountain--we had a special dinner to mark her birthday earlier in the week. But I didn't take the usual route home. Instead, the car happened to wind up in the town with the haunted house. Quite by accident, of course. ;) I like to surprise her.
Ideally, we would have gone through the haunted house inside the old school and seen our share of scary sights. But alas, it was about 7 p.m., and when we got there, we saw a long line of people waiting to get inside. I guesstimated we would be waiting at least an hour and a half to get inside (they were taking people through in groups of five!), and my wife wasn't dressed for standing around in the cold that long. So we reluctantly drove home.
In recent e-mails with S, we have been discussing the possibility of visiting them in November or December. But that may have to be put on hold until after the holidays: My wife has applied for the call center job she had during the holiday season last year, and she thinks she will start work there in mid November. Last year, she worked nearly every day until Christmas. So any longish trips will have to wait till after Santa and his elves are on the beach, drinking concoctions that have paper umbrellas in them.
Wonder if he ever gets to Hed II.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
The Wagonmaster
In the news today was a story about Porter Wagoner, dead of lung cancer at 80 after a long career in country music.
I know some of you don't care very much for country music. True, a lot of it is crap--like when the fiddles are replaced by violins. But a lot of it is great stuff, about the rich tapestry of life, and it's sung with such honesty and a passion and a sincerity that you don't find anywhere else. The school of Hank Williams and Ernest Tubb and Loretta Lynn and Porter Wagoner.
I've known Porter for much of my life, thanks to his TV show, which my family liked. Then we all moved on. I moved on with my life but occasionally would touch base with Porter. He sang many songs like I liked. "The Carroll County Accident." "The Cold Hard Facts of Life," especially "A Satisfied Mind." At times we would hear him on the Grand Ole Opry while driving here or there on a Saturday night.
Earlier this year, I touched base with Porter again, with his new album, "Wagonmaster" on the Anti label. "Real artists creating great recordings on their own terms," according to the Anti website. He recorded "Wagonmaster" at the age of 79, and I got it. His voice wasn't as strong or powerful as it used to be, but the straight-on view of life, warts and all, was still there. In many ways, "Wagonmaster" was a lot like Johnny Cash's American Records releases. Instrumentation was pretty sparse. But the singing was direct and penetrating. It's on my iPod; later today, I'm going to listen to it again.
Many great songs, bracketed around a "Wagonmaster's coming" song by Marty Stuart. But right at the end was the highlight for me: Porter and Stuart singing two classic Hank Williams songs, "Men With Broken Hearts" and "I Heard That Lonesome Whistle Blow." Just the two of them with an acoustic guitar. I was transfixed.
From the AP news story: [I]Wagoner's final album, "Wagonmaster," was released in June and earned him some of the best reviews of his career. Over the summer, he was the opening act for the influential rock duo White Stripes at a sold-out show at New York's Madison Square Garden.
"The young people I met backstage, some of them were 20 years old. They wanted to get my autograph and tell me they really liked me," Porter said with tears in his eyes the day after the New York show. "If only they knew how that made me feel — like a new breath of fresh air."[/I]
Porter was known for helping launch the career of Dolly Parton and for his rhinestone-studded Nudie suits that he wore on stage. But he also released an album called "Skid Row Joe: Down in the Alley." It showed a Skid Row drunk on the cover, trying to stand up in a doorway, wearing an ugly, dirty, worn suit on his back. It was Porter.
Here are the lyrics of "Satisfied Mind." A nice song to think about when things don't go your way ...
[CENTER]
[I]How many times have you heard someone say
If I had his money I could do things my way
But little they know that it's so hard to find
One rich man in ten with a satisfied mind
Once I was waiting in fortune and fame
Everything that I dreamed for to get a start in life's game
But suddenly it happened, I lost every dime
But I'm richer by far with a satisfied mind
Money can't buy back your youth when you're old
Or a friend when you're lonely or a love that's grown cold
The wealthiest person is a pauper at times
Compared to the man with a satisfied mind
When life has ended my time has run out
My friends and my loved ones I'll leave there's no doubt
But there's one thing for certain when it comes my time
I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind[/I][/CENTER]
Sleep well, Porter.
I know some of you don't care very much for country music. True, a lot of it is crap--like when the fiddles are replaced by violins. But a lot of it is great stuff, about the rich tapestry of life, and it's sung with such honesty and a passion and a sincerity that you don't find anywhere else. The school of Hank Williams and Ernest Tubb and Loretta Lynn and Porter Wagoner.
I've known Porter for much of my life, thanks to his TV show, which my family liked. Then we all moved on. I moved on with my life but occasionally would touch base with Porter. He sang many songs like I liked. "The Carroll County Accident." "The Cold Hard Facts of Life," especially "A Satisfied Mind." At times we would hear him on the Grand Ole Opry while driving here or there on a Saturday night.
Earlier this year, I touched base with Porter again, with his new album, "Wagonmaster" on the Anti label. "Real artists creating great recordings on their own terms," according to the Anti website. He recorded "Wagonmaster" at the age of 79, and I got it. His voice wasn't as strong or powerful as it used to be, but the straight-on view of life, warts and all, was still there. In many ways, "Wagonmaster" was a lot like Johnny Cash's American Records releases. Instrumentation was pretty sparse. But the singing was direct and penetrating. It's on my iPod; later today, I'm going to listen to it again.
Many great songs, bracketed around a "Wagonmaster's coming" song by Marty Stuart. But right at the end was the highlight for me: Porter and Stuart singing two classic Hank Williams songs, "Men With Broken Hearts" and "I Heard That Lonesome Whistle Blow." Just the two of them with an acoustic guitar. I was transfixed.
From the AP news story: [I]Wagoner's final album, "Wagonmaster," was released in June and earned him some of the best reviews of his career. Over the summer, he was the opening act for the influential rock duo White Stripes at a sold-out show at New York's Madison Square Garden.
"The young people I met backstage, some of them were 20 years old. They wanted to get my autograph and tell me they really liked me," Porter said with tears in his eyes the day after the New York show. "If only they knew how that made me feel — like a new breath of fresh air."[/I]
Porter was known for helping launch the career of Dolly Parton and for his rhinestone-studded Nudie suits that he wore on stage. But he also released an album called "Skid Row Joe: Down in the Alley." It showed a Skid Row drunk on the cover, trying to stand up in a doorway, wearing an ugly, dirty, worn suit on his back. It was Porter.
Here are the lyrics of "Satisfied Mind." A nice song to think about when things don't go your way ...
[CENTER]
[I]How many times have you heard someone say
If I had his money I could do things my way
But little they know that it's so hard to find
One rich man in ten with a satisfied mind
Once I was waiting in fortune and fame
Everything that I dreamed for to get a start in life's game
But suddenly it happened, I lost every dime
But I'm richer by far with a satisfied mind
Money can't buy back your youth when you're old
Or a friend when you're lonely or a love that's grown cold
The wealthiest person is a pauper at times
Compared to the man with a satisfied mind
When life has ended my time has run out
My friends and my loved ones I'll leave there's no doubt
But there's one thing for certain when it comes my time
I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind[/I][/CENTER]
Sleep well, Porter.
What's Little Debbie hunting?
Do you ever read signs "wrong"? Do you ever read signs differently from the way they were intended?
To give you an example, for many years my mom had a favorite sign when we were visiting a nearby town. Three words in a yellow diamond:
[CENTER]SLOW
CHILDREN
AHEAD[/CENTER]
"Why would they be bragging about having slow children?" she would ask nobody in particular.
My dad had one that would make him laugh, too. It was the same kind of yellow diamond-shaped sign:
[CENTER]HORSES OR
TRACTORS
WITH LUGS
PROHIBITED[/CENTER]
"I've seen many things in my life," my dad would say, laughing, "but I've never seen a horse with lugs."
I thought about that a day or two ago while driving through town and seeing this sign outside a local grocery store ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/LDeb-LDsign-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
So why is Little Debbie, that cute 1950s-style girl on the boxes of sweet treats, hunting after Manwich? What did Manwich do to her? What does Little Debbie want to do with Manwich? Do I really want to know?
Nearby, there's a gas station/convenience store sign that also deserves a double-take from passers-by ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/LDeb-Gassign-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
Hmm. Now that's a convenience most gas stations don't offer. Given the peculiarities of our town, they should be getting some extra business.
Of course, there are also the signs with the removable letters that present endless opportunities to those of a mischievous nature who are good at anagrams. On the road to my mom's place, there is a place called Sweet Dreams that sells stuff like candles, aromatherapy stuff, artwork. You get the idea. They had a sign like that to advertise their specials.
One spring day this year, we drove past and saw that somehow the S and one of the E's were missing from the store's name. That was worth a few snickers and chortles. Not long after that, Sweet Dreams stopped using that sign.
My wife and I did a little shopping at the grocery store today. While we were there we discovered that Little Debbie had gotten her man(wich) ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/LDeb-Found-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
You wouldn't think they'd get along. But there's no accounting for taste, is there?
To give you an example, for many years my mom had a favorite sign when we were visiting a nearby town. Three words in a yellow diamond:
[CENTER]SLOW
CHILDREN
AHEAD[/CENTER]
"Why would they be bragging about having slow children?" she would ask nobody in particular.
My dad had one that would make him laugh, too. It was the same kind of yellow diamond-shaped sign:
[CENTER]HORSES OR
TRACTORS
WITH LUGS
PROHIBITED[/CENTER]
"I've seen many things in my life," my dad would say, laughing, "but I've never seen a horse with lugs."
I thought about that a day or two ago while driving through town and seeing this sign outside a local grocery store ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/LDeb-LDsign-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
So why is Little Debbie, that cute 1950s-style girl on the boxes of sweet treats, hunting after Manwich? What did Manwich do to her? What does Little Debbie want to do with Manwich? Do I really want to know?
Nearby, there's a gas station/convenience store sign that also deserves a double-take from passers-by ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/LDeb-Gassign-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
Hmm. Now that's a convenience most gas stations don't offer. Given the peculiarities of our town, they should be getting some extra business.
Of course, there are also the signs with the removable letters that present endless opportunities to those of a mischievous nature who are good at anagrams. On the road to my mom's place, there is a place called Sweet Dreams that sells stuff like candles, aromatherapy stuff, artwork. You get the idea. They had a sign like that to advertise their specials.
One spring day this year, we drove past and saw that somehow the S and one of the E's were missing from the store's name. That was worth a few snickers and chortles. Not long after that, Sweet Dreams stopped using that sign.
My wife and I did a little shopping at the grocery store today. While we were there we discovered that Little Debbie had gotten her man(wich) ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/LDeb-Found-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
You wouldn't think they'd get along. But there's no accounting for taste, is there?
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Ululating on the sidelines
It's just me, checking in, taking a break from a very busy week here at the OK Corral. We're finishing up articles for a special section, plus I've got an all-day sportswriters meeting out of town on Thursday :( and then football playoff games on Friday. The volleyball district tournaments are next week. Slowly but surely, the fall season is winding down.
The meeting tomorrow is the one when they pick the all-U.P. football teams. I hate it. It's long and dull. Years ago, they held the meeting over two days, and on the night between meetings, they would gather at a strip bar called Orphan Annie's. Way before my time, but some of the old-timers (there are a [I]lot [/I]of old-timers there) still invoke Orphan Annie's memory once in a while.
If Orphan Annie's were still open, maybe I'd enjoy the experience more. As it is, I leave at 6:30 a.m., about an hour before sunrise, spend most the day in a never-ending meeting and get home after sunset. The most exotic place I'm likely to visit is ... Staples, the office supply store.
On Tuesday morning, I looked outside to see white. Not snow. But it was the first really heavy frost we've had so far, as temperatures got down to 24F (-5C). Today, while walking back from an interview, a few snowflakes seemed to be dancing in the air. So far, there hasn't been any snow around. That should change as soon as the temperature falls a few more degrees.
Slowly but surely, I am dragging out my warmer clothing. Today I wore a zip-front sweater for use at the office (except it got too warm, so I took it off). I'll need to dig out my gloves before I hit the road at 6:30 tomorrow morning.
I also have to "invest" in some new tires for the car. They have already been ordered--they get installed late this week or next week. Of course, we need the mud/snow rated tires up here for extra traction in winter.
My wife's birthday was Monday; she got flowers (carnations) and we went out for a pizza and watched a movie ("The Painted Veil") later. David went with me to the football game at Lake Linden (way up in the Copper Country, north of Houghton) last Saturday. His birthday is on Nov. 3. Gotta get something for him, too.
All of our birthdays are within two months of each other. My older son's b-day is Dec. 19, and mine is five days later. Both of the kids are grown and gone, but to me they are still part of "us."
Just for fun, I went to a Wisconsin high school playoff football game Tuesday night. Wisconsin has a goofy (to me) schedule: the final game of the regular season is on Thursday. The first playoff game is the following Tuesday. The second playoff game is that Saturday. So that's five days between the final game of the season and the first playoff game; and then four days between the first and second playoff games. In Michigan, all the games are a week apart (mostly Fridays, with a few on Thursdays and Saturdays).
Anyway ... this one was being played just 30 miles away, so I decided to go see the fun. I took the camera along, of course. A little light (and cold) rain fell during the game, but the oddest thing came from one of the fans.
It was a woman who walked up and down the sidelines behind her team's bench, cheering loudly. And ululating. It was one of the darndest things I've ever seen at a high school football game. She would yell, "Come on guys! You can do it! Woo-HOOOO! Ulululululluuuu!" She made this sound like you hear Arab women making at times of great emotion (joy or sadness), high pitched and wavering.
She was a smallish woman, younger than me, shortish hair, wearing her team's colors and carrying an umbrella. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except that she kept going "Woo-HOOO! Ulululululluuuu!"
I wish I could tell you that her team won, but they were the underdogs. Didn't matter to her, it seems. She kept on rooting for her team on and going "Ululululululluuuuu" even when her guys were down 27-0. The final score was 34-14.
Anyway, I feel myself getting tired despite it only being 9 p.m. Could it be that I'm subconsciously getting ready for my 6:30 departure tomorrow morning ... on the road to The Meeting That Never Ends?
The meeting tomorrow is the one when they pick the all-U.P. football teams. I hate it. It's long and dull. Years ago, they held the meeting over two days, and on the night between meetings, they would gather at a strip bar called Orphan Annie's. Way before my time, but some of the old-timers (there are a [I]lot [/I]of old-timers there) still invoke Orphan Annie's memory once in a while.
If Orphan Annie's were still open, maybe I'd enjoy the experience more. As it is, I leave at 6:30 a.m., about an hour before sunrise, spend most the day in a never-ending meeting and get home after sunset. The most exotic place I'm likely to visit is ... Staples, the office supply store.
On Tuesday morning, I looked outside to see white. Not snow. But it was the first really heavy frost we've had so far, as temperatures got down to 24F (-5C). Today, while walking back from an interview, a few snowflakes seemed to be dancing in the air. So far, there hasn't been any snow around. That should change as soon as the temperature falls a few more degrees.
Slowly but surely, I am dragging out my warmer clothing. Today I wore a zip-front sweater for use at the office (except it got too warm, so I took it off). I'll need to dig out my gloves before I hit the road at 6:30 tomorrow morning.
I also have to "invest" in some new tires for the car. They have already been ordered--they get installed late this week or next week. Of course, we need the mud/snow rated tires up here for extra traction in winter.
My wife's birthday was Monday; she got flowers (carnations) and we went out for a pizza and watched a movie ("The Painted Veil") later. David went with me to the football game at Lake Linden (way up in the Copper Country, north of Houghton) last Saturday. His birthday is on Nov. 3. Gotta get something for him, too.
All of our birthdays are within two months of each other. My older son's b-day is Dec. 19, and mine is five days later. Both of the kids are grown and gone, but to me they are still part of "us."
Just for fun, I went to a Wisconsin high school playoff football game Tuesday night. Wisconsin has a goofy (to me) schedule: the final game of the regular season is on Thursday. The first playoff game is the following Tuesday. The second playoff game is that Saturday. So that's five days between the final game of the season and the first playoff game; and then four days between the first and second playoff games. In Michigan, all the games are a week apart (mostly Fridays, with a few on Thursdays and Saturdays).
Anyway ... this one was being played just 30 miles away, so I decided to go see the fun. I took the camera along, of course. A little light (and cold) rain fell during the game, but the oddest thing came from one of the fans.
It was a woman who walked up and down the sidelines behind her team's bench, cheering loudly. And ululating. It was one of the darndest things I've ever seen at a high school football game. She would yell, "Come on guys! You can do it! Woo-HOOOO! Ulululululluuuu!" She made this sound like you hear Arab women making at times of great emotion (joy or sadness), high pitched and wavering.
She was a smallish woman, younger than me, shortish hair, wearing her team's colors and carrying an umbrella. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except that she kept going "Woo-HOOO! Ulululululluuuu!"
I wish I could tell you that her team won, but they were the underdogs. Didn't matter to her, it seems. She kept on rooting for her team on and going "Ululululululluuuuu" even when her guys were down 27-0. The final score was 34-14.
Anyway, I feel myself getting tired despite it only being 9 p.m. Could it be that I'm subconsciously getting ready for my 6:30 departure tomorrow morning ... on the road to The Meeting That Never Ends?
Friday, October 19, 2007
Lots on my plate
Just a visit for an quick update. I'm working on a post about an old hotel in town that is being town down ... but the story has proven to have a life of its own. After writing part of it, I remembered a bunch of other things (incidents, anecdotes) that will make it a livelier story. Even if parts of it are a little naughty. But it's going to be a few days before I even get time to write it all up.
(I have done [I]very [/I]little of anything that could even remotely be called "naughty" for a long, long time. That could explain why I've been feeling down lately.)
This was kind of a tiring week. I had two early morning (7 a.m.) meetings with a board that I serve on, so I had to be up, up and away early. The baseball playoff games have been running late--sometimes too long for me to stay up till the end. I've found an AM station in Chicago that carries them, and the signal usually comes in pretty good that late. I try to listen to the end, but I doze off. Fancy that: me dozing off while lying in bed after midnight.
We had some shocking news in the office today. Remember my efforts earlier this year to be taken off some exhausting meeting coverage that I "temporarily" had covered for the last three or four years? In April or May, they made an arrangement with the woman who covers those meetings for the local radio station, and that was what freed me.
The other day, she was working at her real job (at a local realty office) and was complaining about heartburn--she called it the worst she had ever felt. She had gone upstairs and was gone for a while, and eventually they found her on all fours, feeling chest pain. The ambulance took her to the local hospital and from there to the regional medical center in Marquette, where she is being treated/observed. Things are apparently going OK there, but she will be out for a while.
I bet you can guess what thought immediately went through my mind once I heard that: When are they going approach me about covering those meetings again until she returns? "When." Not "if." And what would I say?
I have come up with three answers: No, No and No. After all, the last time I "temporarily" took a regular news assignment, it was three or four years until I could get off that merry-go-round. This time, I'm not getting on.
That brings me to my doctor's appointment this afternoon. All the blood tests came back OK. Blood pressure was fine. My cholesterol was great, as usual. He did the prostate exam. :eek:
Everything was going OK until he listened to my heart. It was beating fast. Normal rhythm, just fast (about 120/minute). They took an EKG and sent it to a cardiologist in Marquette. He said it could be a side-effect of one of my other meds, and adding a beta blocker should take care of it.
But he wants me to go up to Marquette to see the cardiologist. I'm having a problem with that. First of all, that's two hours each way, so that wipes out an entire day of work. Second, my health insurance is of the Swiss cheese variety--plenty of holes. For one thing, it doesn't cover doctor's office calls at all. Not one penny. And it's only a little bit helpful for prescription drugs. We get to pay a group rate for them, somewhat of a discount, but we pay all of that. And by a strange coincidence, that discount disqualifies us from the various discount programs offered by the drug companies. How about that?
(Oh, we have such a screwed-up health care system in the U.S.! Unless you are with an insurance company or a drug company, that is. If you are, then it's heaven on earth.)
So what I think I'm going to do is get the prescription for the beta blocker and start taking that. Then we'll see. If things seem to be working out OK, I'll cancel any appointment in Marquette.
Let's see, what else is happening? I have two important football games to cover, on Friday night (right in town; it's supposed to rain) and Saturday afternoon (about 120 miles away; weather should be OK). One week later, the playoffs start. The all-U.P. football writers meeting is next Thursday, and I learned today that the guy who represents our other school won't be there. For whatever reason. So instead of two votes from our county, we have one. I hate those meetings, but ...
Lots and lots of things on my plate right now. And again, not much of it can be described as "fun."
OK. Covering the football is fun, and writing the sports stories is OK, too. But all the other monkey business--articles for special sections, special meetings with my board, the sportswriters' meeting, the doctor's appointment, lack of progress with the sale of the house--is just adding more and more stress.
Oh, I just remembered one more thing I must do tomorrow! My wife's birthday is Monday, so I have to stop at the florists' and maybe get a reservation so we can go out for a nice dinner. Can't forget that!
(I have done [I]very [/I]little of anything that could even remotely be called "naughty" for a long, long time. That could explain why I've been feeling down lately.)
This was kind of a tiring week. I had two early morning (7 a.m.) meetings with a board that I serve on, so I had to be up, up and away early. The baseball playoff games have been running late--sometimes too long for me to stay up till the end. I've found an AM station in Chicago that carries them, and the signal usually comes in pretty good that late. I try to listen to the end, but I doze off. Fancy that: me dozing off while lying in bed after midnight.
We had some shocking news in the office today. Remember my efforts earlier this year to be taken off some exhausting meeting coverage that I "temporarily" had covered for the last three or four years? In April or May, they made an arrangement with the woman who covers those meetings for the local radio station, and that was what freed me.
The other day, she was working at her real job (at a local realty office) and was complaining about heartburn--she called it the worst she had ever felt. She had gone upstairs and was gone for a while, and eventually they found her on all fours, feeling chest pain. The ambulance took her to the local hospital and from there to the regional medical center in Marquette, where she is being treated/observed. Things are apparently going OK there, but she will be out for a while.
I bet you can guess what thought immediately went through my mind once I heard that: When are they going approach me about covering those meetings again until she returns? "When." Not "if." And what would I say?
I have come up with three answers: No, No and No. After all, the last time I "temporarily" took a regular news assignment, it was three or four years until I could get off that merry-go-round. This time, I'm not getting on.
That brings me to my doctor's appointment this afternoon. All the blood tests came back OK. Blood pressure was fine. My cholesterol was great, as usual. He did the prostate exam. :eek:
Everything was going OK until he listened to my heart. It was beating fast. Normal rhythm, just fast (about 120/minute). They took an EKG and sent it to a cardiologist in Marquette. He said it could be a side-effect of one of my other meds, and adding a beta blocker should take care of it.
But he wants me to go up to Marquette to see the cardiologist. I'm having a problem with that. First of all, that's two hours each way, so that wipes out an entire day of work. Second, my health insurance is of the Swiss cheese variety--plenty of holes. For one thing, it doesn't cover doctor's office calls at all. Not one penny. And it's only a little bit helpful for prescription drugs. We get to pay a group rate for them, somewhat of a discount, but we pay all of that. And by a strange coincidence, that discount disqualifies us from the various discount programs offered by the drug companies. How about that?
(Oh, we have such a screwed-up health care system in the U.S.! Unless you are with an insurance company or a drug company, that is. If you are, then it's heaven on earth.)
So what I think I'm going to do is get the prescription for the beta blocker and start taking that. Then we'll see. If things seem to be working out OK, I'll cancel any appointment in Marquette.
Let's see, what else is happening? I have two important football games to cover, on Friday night (right in town; it's supposed to rain) and Saturday afternoon (about 120 miles away; weather should be OK). One week later, the playoffs start. The all-U.P. football writers meeting is next Thursday, and I learned today that the guy who represents our other school won't be there. For whatever reason. So instead of two votes from our county, we have one. I hate those meetings, but ...
Lots and lots of things on my plate right now. And again, not much of it can be described as "fun."
OK. Covering the football is fun, and writing the sports stories is OK, too. But all the other monkey business--articles for special sections, special meetings with my board, the sportswriters' meeting, the doctor's appointment, lack of progress with the sale of the house--is just adding more and more stress.
Oh, I just remembered one more thing I must do tomorrow! My wife's birthday is Monday, so I have to stop at the florists' and maybe get a reservation so we can go out for a nice dinner. Can't forget that!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
"The wonders of nature"
]It's been kind of a sad day in town here. We are losing another of our aged, historic buildings.
It's not that the place has been kept up over the years, because it has not. In fact, it's been in danger of demolishing itself for years. The owners over the last few decades lacked either the money to keep the old building in good repair or the inclination to do so. For many years, it was a hotel. One of the better hotels in town. In the time I've been living here (about 25 years), it has only been a bar, with a hotel--but it was already ramshackle.
So I never got to see it in its prime. I think it once had a lounge downstairs. I know it had a beautiful bar, where people could go to relax and have a good time. Art Deco designs on the walls were still there by the time I got to town, but a lot of the money in town had left with the closing of the mines, and the building was feeling its age. It became primarily a bar, one that saw its best business when the rodeo was in town or during the entire run of firearm deer season.
That's because it had dancers. Go-go dancers, because they would put on some rock music and go-go up on stage. By the time their act was done, all or nearly all of their clothing (which wasn't much to begin with) would be on the stage or on hooks along the side. After that, they would make the grand tour of the lounge, visiting the fans who admired their dancing, collecting tips and bestowing kisses to those with an extra dollar or two to donate to a worthy cause (the worthy cause being the girls' financial situation). You would see the occasional booby facial, and if you had the inclination and the money to buy overpriced drinks, they would sit and relax with you for a while between sets. As for whether the girls made other "arrangements" with their admirers, that was between the two of them. Being a sex worker is not all it's cracked up to be. Not here, in a town that doesn't have a lot of ready spending money.
That's why the rodeo and hunting season were especially busy times. The cowboys came in, and they were ready to unwind and enjoy themselves after their work day was over. And the army of orange was always looking for a good drink and a good time. The girls were happy to oblige. For the right price.
In the first years I lived here, there was another bar in town that I would occasionally stop by when I was feeling lonely or blue. That was called the Jack O'Lantern, located a few blocks away. It was smaller, and its bar was in the same room as the stage, where the girls would get it on and take it off. Fascinating place. A good place to have a drink or two and enjoy the ladies' show, admiring "the wonders of nature," as a friend termed it once.
Eventually it closed, and the Cloverland now the field to itself--until it closed down maybe 10 years ago. Since then, there's been no place in town where a stripper could dance with her pole, shake it on down or collect dollars in her G-string. Or other places. "The wonders of nature."
Today, there's a place about 10 miles south, in Wisconsin, that has dancers, but only during deer season, when hunters come up north to get away from the Milwaukee or Chicago areas and the constraints of civilization to pursue their buck and take in the sights.
Aside from that, there's a place near Iron Mountain, but in Wisconsin, which has dancers most of the time. (The town is named, would you believe it, Spread Eagle.). That's where my fantasy baseball league holds its "preseason meeting." As I have written, it's fun/different for a while, but then I get bored with the nubile young things doing what they do on stage. What I would like to see is an older gal proud enough to do her thing, despite a few extra pounds. Because the woman I love has gotten older and added pounds. So maybe when I can watch her, I can imagine it's her, doing something she would never, ever do even for an audience of one. Understand what I'm trying to say?
It's been years and years since I went to a place like that by myself, for my own entertainment/relaxation/diversion. Time passes. It's not that I'm not interested any more, because I am. It's just that ... there doesn't seem to be the time to do anything that really would be relaxing and satisfy some internal itch that isn't being scratched.
So I think about those things. Meanwhile, the old hotel and bar, after sitting empty and getting old for many years, is finally going to be taken down. Well, it's served its life, I guess. But it lives on in memory.
Memories like the night (actually, a day) around New Year's when a slightly older woman pulled a quiet man into a back room, and they embraced and kissed. "For New Year's," she said. One hand found a breast. Another hand found a pair of balls. That was as far as it went.
Memories like the woman who showed off the new tattoo on the back of her shoulder by pulling her top up. She didn't have anything on underneath.
Memories like Buckskin Lorraine. That's what she called herself. She was maybe 20 years older than me. Once she talked about the time she celebrated her birthday at the Jack O'Lantern. Some music came on that she liked, and she stepped up on the stage and danced and took off her blouse. Then she took off her bra, and the bartender started yelling at her to behave. "Why should I?" she asked. "It's my birthday. Why can't I do what I damn well like!"
Memories of hands wandering to adjacent thighs or laps or under shirts.
Memories of the barflies who went semiconscious at the bar. Ninety percent were males. I would usually have one or two drinks at the most, and they knew I was pretty sober, so I was sometimes called upon to take someone safely home. Then I'd drive back and get a free drink as my reward.
Memories of the strippers. Always, always looking for a drink and a few bucks--as many as you had on you. Ninety percent of the time, they were black. (One time a woman in the bar gave me a hard time for talking with black women.) They were all right once you got to know them. Once in a while, when business was slow, you'd buy them a drink. Since they knew they wouldn't make much money off me, aside from the occasional dollar in the G-string, they focused on others.
They were in their exotic costumes most of the time, and sometimes in street clothes at others. One time one of them was wearing jeans. "Put your hand in my pocket," she said. "What?" "Just put your hand in my pocket," she repeated, a cagy smile on her lips. The pocket extended down about three inches; after that it was just her.
It's not that the place has been kept up over the years, because it has not. In fact, it's been in danger of demolishing itself for years. The owners over the last few decades lacked either the money to keep the old building in good repair or the inclination to do so. For many years, it was a hotel. One of the better hotels in town. In the time I've been living here (about 25 years), it has only been a bar, with a hotel--but it was already ramshackle.
So I never got to see it in its prime. I think it once had a lounge downstairs. I know it had a beautiful bar, where people could go to relax and have a good time. Art Deco designs on the walls were still there by the time I got to town, but a lot of the money in town had left with the closing of the mines, and the building was feeling its age. It became primarily a bar, one that saw its best business when the rodeo was in town or during the entire run of firearm deer season.
That's because it had dancers. Go-go dancers, because they would put on some rock music and go-go up on stage. By the time their act was done, all or nearly all of their clothing (which wasn't much to begin with) would be on the stage or on hooks along the side. After that, they would make the grand tour of the lounge, visiting the fans who admired their dancing, collecting tips and bestowing kisses to those with an extra dollar or two to donate to a worthy cause (the worthy cause being the girls' financial situation). You would see the occasional booby facial, and if you had the inclination and the money to buy overpriced drinks, they would sit and relax with you for a while between sets. As for whether the girls made other "arrangements" with their admirers, that was between the two of them. Being a sex worker is not all it's cracked up to be. Not here, in a town that doesn't have a lot of ready spending money.
That's why the rodeo and hunting season were especially busy times. The cowboys came in, and they were ready to unwind and enjoy themselves after their work day was over. And the army of orange was always looking for a good drink and a good time. The girls were happy to oblige. For the right price.
In the first years I lived here, there was another bar in town that I would occasionally stop by when I was feeling lonely or blue. That was called the Jack O'Lantern, located a few blocks away. It was smaller, and its bar was in the same room as the stage, where the girls would get it on and take it off. Fascinating place. A good place to have a drink or two and enjoy the ladies' show, admiring "the wonders of nature," as a friend termed it once.
Eventually it closed, and the Cloverland now the field to itself--until it closed down maybe 10 years ago. Since then, there's been no place in town where a stripper could dance with her pole, shake it on down or collect dollars in her G-string. Or other places. "The wonders of nature."
Today, there's a place about 10 miles south, in Wisconsin, that has dancers, but only during deer season, when hunters come up north to get away from the Milwaukee or Chicago areas and the constraints of civilization to pursue their buck and take in the sights.
Aside from that, there's a place near Iron Mountain, but in Wisconsin, which has dancers most of the time. (The town is named, would you believe it, Spread Eagle.). That's where my fantasy baseball league holds its "preseason meeting." As I have written, it's fun/different for a while, but then I get bored with the nubile young things doing what they do on stage. What I would like to see is an older gal proud enough to do her thing, despite a few extra pounds. Because the woman I love has gotten older and added pounds. So maybe when I can watch her, I can imagine it's her, doing something she would never, ever do even for an audience of one. Understand what I'm trying to say?
It's been years and years since I went to a place like that by myself, for my own entertainment/relaxation/diversion. Time passes. It's not that I'm not interested any more, because I am. It's just that ... there doesn't seem to be the time to do anything that really would be relaxing and satisfy some internal itch that isn't being scratched.
So I think about those things. Meanwhile, the old hotel and bar, after sitting empty and getting old for many years, is finally going to be taken down. Well, it's served its life, I guess. But it lives on in memory.
Memories like the night (actually, a day) around New Year's when a slightly older woman pulled a quiet man into a back room, and they embraced and kissed. "For New Year's," she said. One hand found a breast. Another hand found a pair of balls. That was as far as it went.
Memories like the woman who showed off the new tattoo on the back of her shoulder by pulling her top up. She didn't have anything on underneath.
Memories like Buckskin Lorraine. That's what she called herself. She was maybe 20 years older than me. Once she talked about the time she celebrated her birthday at the Jack O'Lantern. Some music came on that she liked, and she stepped up on the stage and danced and took off her blouse. Then she took off her bra, and the bartender started yelling at her to behave. "Why should I?" she asked. "It's my birthday. Why can't I do what I damn well like!"
Memories of hands wandering to adjacent thighs or laps or under shirts.
Memories of the barflies who went semiconscious at the bar. Ninety percent were males. I would usually have one or two drinks at the most, and they knew I was pretty sober, so I was sometimes called upon to take someone safely home. Then I'd drive back and get a free drink as my reward.
Memories of the strippers. Always, always looking for a drink and a few bucks--as many as you had on you. Ninety percent of the time, they were black. (One time a woman in the bar gave me a hard time for talking with black women.) They were all right once you got to know them. Once in a while, when business was slow, you'd buy them a drink. Since they knew they wouldn't make much money off me, aside from the occasional dollar in the G-string, they focused on others.
They were in their exotic costumes most of the time, and sometimes in street clothes at others. One time one of them was wearing jeans. "Put your hand in my pocket," she said. "What?" "Just put your hand in my pocket," she repeated, a cagy smile on her lips. The pocket extended down about three inches; after that it was just her.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Good times, bad times
I've had an up and down weekend. Big upper on Saturday. Big downer on Sunday. And I am really sour about that. Definitely not a happy camper.
First, I did, indeed get my car back on Friday (late afternoon, not in the morning) and covered a football game that night. I had another game Saturday, right in town. It was Homecoming, and the weather was picture-perfect: hardly a cloud anywhere, only a light breeze and temperatures in the low 50s.
I had a little lunch at home before leaving for the game because they had a brat feed near the entrance for the game. I got a brat, a tiny bag of Cheetos and a cup of root beer. Nearby, they were selling tickets for a drawing--a fund-raiser to buy new playground equipment at the park. The stuff they have now is really old. Some of the pieces are identical to the slides and monkey bars that were in the park in the Milwaukee suburb where I was growing up. (I really should get some pictures, and maybe I will pretty soon.)
I didn't get a ticket then--my hands were full, and I wanted to think over whether I wanted to pop for the $5 donation. But the brat tasted good, the Cheetos were put away for later, and I decided I could spare a fiver. Didn't even have to fill in the stub--they wrote my name and phone number. Everyone knows me there, after all.
Anyway, off to the game. Perfect football picture-taking weather. Our team led 18-14 at halftime. Then all the festivities for halftime: the parade of class floats. The introduction of the Homecoming court. And the announcement of the king and queen, with a long break for pictures.
Back to the game. The other team scored during the third quarter and went ahead 20-18--we stopped the two-point run. Two plays after the kickoff, our team scores to go back ahead, and the defense must have been inspired--they held the other guys without a first down on consecutive possessions.
The third quarter was nearly over, and I was on the sidelines, scribbling notes in my reporter's notebook, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was one of the guys from the Booster Club. About that ticket I bought in the drawing. It won. First prize. $500.
Woo-hoooo!
Well, I'm not very demonstrative, regardless of whether the news is good or bad. But I pumped my fists in the air when they announced it over the PA system a few minutes later. Our team scored a late touchdown, won 30-20, and has qualified for the state playoffs.
The guy from the booster club called me at home that night and asked what they should do with the check--mail it or drop it off at my office. I told them to write up a check for $250 and put it in the mail. The rest can go for the new playground stuff. I did want to make a donation, after all.
Saturday night, my wife and I went for a pizza in town. It was ... OK, I guess. Not even close to the quality of the pizzas they had at the Happy Italian's. [URL="http://drdog.efx2blogs.com/5164/Saturday+afternoon+disaster.html"]Remember last December?[/URL] I sure do.
Anyway, Sunday morning I walked to the office to work on my football stories. Nothing out of the ordinary until around noon, when I was leaving. I always check the front door to make sure I locked it when I entered. I had.
But while I was there, I glanced across the street and saw two men near the big maple tree across the street. One had climbed a ladder and was about 12 feet in the air. It wasn't clear what he was doing. I had a bad feeling about it, but I was satisfied just to glare daggers in their direction.
This is a lovely tree, located just across the street from our office. In winter, when the wind is blowing out of the northwest, its naked branches shiver just the way you do. In March, you see a fuzzy shade of green in its branches, and you know that it's almost spring. In summer, it's a home for birds of many species, who find places to build their nests and raise their families among its deep green leaves. And in fall, it's spectacular, as the leaves turn to yellow, bright orange and red ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Maple92001-9-01.jpg[/IMG]
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Maple92501-9-01.jpg[/IMG]
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Maple93001-9-01.jpg[/IMG]
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Maple100201-10-01.jpg[/IMG]
It was always a great show.
It [I]was[/I]. Because just before 1 p.m., while I was watching the Packers game on TV, I heard a distant thump outside. A few minutes later, I stepped outside to see what had happened. Here is what I saw ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Mapledown-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
Mr. Chainsaw was having a great time, revving his saw and chopping off branches. Meanwhile, my heart was sinking, and I muttered every obscenity I could think of. I've been in a bad mood ever since. Not snarling at people. That's not my way. I just stay very quiet and want to be by myself. Yeah--internalize it.
After dark tonight, I went out to view the body ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Mapleflash-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Maplestump-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
Yeah, I had good luck this weekend. I won $500, and I'm keeping $250.
Tell me where I can send the check to bring that tree back.
First, I did, indeed get my car back on Friday (late afternoon, not in the morning) and covered a football game that night. I had another game Saturday, right in town. It was Homecoming, and the weather was picture-perfect: hardly a cloud anywhere, only a light breeze and temperatures in the low 50s.
I had a little lunch at home before leaving for the game because they had a brat feed near the entrance for the game. I got a brat, a tiny bag of Cheetos and a cup of root beer. Nearby, they were selling tickets for a drawing--a fund-raiser to buy new playground equipment at the park. The stuff they have now is really old. Some of the pieces are identical to the slides and monkey bars that were in the park in the Milwaukee suburb where I was growing up. (I really should get some pictures, and maybe I will pretty soon.)
I didn't get a ticket then--my hands were full, and I wanted to think over whether I wanted to pop for the $5 donation. But the brat tasted good, the Cheetos were put away for later, and I decided I could spare a fiver. Didn't even have to fill in the stub--they wrote my name and phone number. Everyone knows me there, after all.
Anyway, off to the game. Perfect football picture-taking weather. Our team led 18-14 at halftime. Then all the festivities for halftime: the parade of class floats. The introduction of the Homecoming court. And the announcement of the king and queen, with a long break for pictures.
Back to the game. The other team scored during the third quarter and went ahead 20-18--we stopped the two-point run. Two plays after the kickoff, our team scores to go back ahead, and the defense must have been inspired--they held the other guys without a first down on consecutive possessions.
The third quarter was nearly over, and I was on the sidelines, scribbling notes in my reporter's notebook, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was one of the guys from the Booster Club. About that ticket I bought in the drawing. It won. First prize. $500.
Woo-hoooo!
Well, I'm not very demonstrative, regardless of whether the news is good or bad. But I pumped my fists in the air when they announced it over the PA system a few minutes later. Our team scored a late touchdown, won 30-20, and has qualified for the state playoffs.
The guy from the booster club called me at home that night and asked what they should do with the check--mail it or drop it off at my office. I told them to write up a check for $250 and put it in the mail. The rest can go for the new playground stuff. I did want to make a donation, after all.
Saturday night, my wife and I went for a pizza in town. It was ... OK, I guess. Not even close to the quality of the pizzas they had at the Happy Italian's. [URL="http://drdog.efx2blogs.com/5164/Saturday+afternoon+disaster.html"]Remember last December?[/URL] I sure do.
Anyway, Sunday morning I walked to the office to work on my football stories. Nothing out of the ordinary until around noon, when I was leaving. I always check the front door to make sure I locked it when I entered. I had.
But while I was there, I glanced across the street and saw two men near the big maple tree across the street. One had climbed a ladder and was about 12 feet in the air. It wasn't clear what he was doing. I had a bad feeling about it, but I was satisfied just to glare daggers in their direction.
This is a lovely tree, located just across the street from our office. In winter, when the wind is blowing out of the northwest, its naked branches shiver just the way you do. In March, you see a fuzzy shade of green in its branches, and you know that it's almost spring. In summer, it's a home for birds of many species, who find places to build their nests and raise their families among its deep green leaves. And in fall, it's spectacular, as the leaves turn to yellow, bright orange and red ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Maple92001-9-01.jpg[/IMG]
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Maple92501-9-01.jpg[/IMG]
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Maple93001-9-01.jpg[/IMG]
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Maple100201-10-01.jpg[/IMG]
It was always a great show.
It [I]was[/I]. Because just before 1 p.m., while I was watching the Packers game on TV, I heard a distant thump outside. A few minutes later, I stepped outside to see what had happened. Here is what I saw ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Mapledown-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
Mr. Chainsaw was having a great time, revving his saw and chopping off branches. Meanwhile, my heart was sinking, and I muttered every obscenity I could think of. I've been in a bad mood ever since. Not snarling at people. That's not my way. I just stay very quiet and want to be by myself. Yeah--internalize it.
After dark tonight, I went out to view the body ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Mapleflash-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Maplestump-10-07.jpg[/IMG]
Yeah, I had good luck this weekend. I won $500, and I'm keeping $250.
Tell me where I can send the check to bring that tree back.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Hard chairs, baby powder and other "intriguing" topics
Well, hi. I haven't written a lot lately aside from the Blurtys. (I'll get back to them pretty soon.)
During most evenings this past week, I've been upstairs, seated at the computer ... but watching the baseball playoffs and/or some Detroit Red Wings games (switching back and forth with each commercial, power play or runner in scoring position).
Unfortunately, my wife has very limited tolerance for/interest in sports on TV, so I usually let her watch what she wants on the big TV downstairs--and go upstairs to watch my game or whatever while at the computer. (But it's hard. The chair, that is. It's only a padded folding chair. Maybe I need to upgrade to save my butt.)
Tuesday night, I was gone at a volleyball doubleheader. Wednesday, my wife and I watched a movie ("Pleasantville") together on TV. The movie was pretty good, but all the commercials give me a pain. I am way too used to DVDs and Turner Classic Movies. I watch a lot of TCM.
On Tuesday morning I brought in my car for its repairs (f---ing deer!), and they said it would be done by Thursday (today) at 5 p.m. But I have learned the hard way not to rely on such estimates (one of the upcoming Blurty reposts will explain why). Sure enough, at 3:30 this afternoon they called to tell me it won't be ready today, after all. Something about the paint color not matching. The new promise is that I'll get it back Friday morning. OK.
So I drove the loaner (a 2003 Buick LeSabre) to Iron Mountain this evening to see my mom, get her a couple things and check the house. She wanted me to get her $40, some baby powder and Tylenols. We bought her three travel-size containers of baby powder (1.5 ounces/42 grams apiece).
After I got there, she told me to put them in one of the drawers under her TV. When I opened the drawer--I found two identical containers of baby powder, apparently not yet opened. I asked if she planned to sell the others at a profit.
That's just the way my mom is, as my wife and I discovered this summer while clearing out the house. We found mass quantities of various things she had saved. For what reason, I still don't know.
By the way, I promised photos of the various things we found while clearing out the house. Those are still to come. But it's going to be quite a project--we found lots of strange and old stuff, so it's going to take me a while to select what makes the cut and what doesn't.
Our weather has taken a sharp turn towards winter. Last weekend, we had temperatures in the low 80s--but that's all gone now. We only got up to the mid 40s on Wednesday, not much warmer today, and it's right at freezing tonight. (I hear the furnace running in the background.) I'll have to bundle up for the football game Friday night.
One other bit of news: It may be time for me to get serious about a new laptop. I saw the current Dell catalog at work today, borrowed it and studied it for a while after getting back home. My current laptop is about four years old, and it's showing its age. The latest trick is shutting itself down without warning. That's not a good thing.
I've also had to reformat the hard drive twice--the last time was about a year ago. That's not a good thing, either. This time, I'm not storing very much data on it. I think you can understand why.
During most evenings this past week, I've been upstairs, seated at the computer ... but watching the baseball playoffs and/or some Detroit Red Wings games (switching back and forth with each commercial, power play or runner in scoring position).
Unfortunately, my wife has very limited tolerance for/interest in sports on TV, so I usually let her watch what she wants on the big TV downstairs--and go upstairs to watch my game or whatever while at the computer. (But it's hard. The chair, that is. It's only a padded folding chair. Maybe I need to upgrade to save my butt.)
Tuesday night, I was gone at a volleyball doubleheader. Wednesday, my wife and I watched a movie ("Pleasantville") together on TV. The movie was pretty good, but all the commercials give me a pain. I am way too used to DVDs and Turner Classic Movies. I watch a lot of TCM.
On Tuesday morning I brought in my car for its repairs (f---ing deer!), and they said it would be done by Thursday (today) at 5 p.m. But I have learned the hard way not to rely on such estimates (one of the upcoming Blurty reposts will explain why). Sure enough, at 3:30 this afternoon they called to tell me it won't be ready today, after all. Something about the paint color not matching. The new promise is that I'll get it back Friday morning. OK.
So I drove the loaner (a 2003 Buick LeSabre) to Iron Mountain this evening to see my mom, get her a couple things and check the house. She wanted me to get her $40, some baby powder and Tylenols. We bought her three travel-size containers of baby powder (1.5 ounces/42 grams apiece).
After I got there, she told me to put them in one of the drawers under her TV. When I opened the drawer--I found two identical containers of baby powder, apparently not yet opened. I asked if she planned to sell the others at a profit.
That's just the way my mom is, as my wife and I discovered this summer while clearing out the house. We found mass quantities of various things she had saved. For what reason, I still don't know.
By the way, I promised photos of the various things we found while clearing out the house. Those are still to come. But it's going to be quite a project--we found lots of strange and old stuff, so it's going to take me a while to select what makes the cut and what doesn't.
Our weather has taken a sharp turn towards winter. Last weekend, we had temperatures in the low 80s--but that's all gone now. We only got up to the mid 40s on Wednesday, not much warmer today, and it's right at freezing tonight. (I hear the furnace running in the background.) I'll have to bundle up for the football game Friday night.
One other bit of news: It may be time for me to get serious about a new laptop. I saw the current Dell catalog at work today, borrowed it and studied it for a while after getting back home. My current laptop is about four years old, and it's showing its age. The latest trick is shutting itself down without warning. That's not a good thing.
I've also had to reformat the hard drive twice--the last time was about a year ago. That's not a good thing, either. This time, I'm not storing very much data on it. I think you can understand why.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
The Blurty chronicles
This morning, one of my browser bookmarks caught my eye. Impulsively, I went *click*.
Instantly, I was taken back in time, to an old friend. Blurty.
Blurty.com. It's a blogging service that I was on a few years ago. It's the first blog I used more than once. Not that I was consistent. It was more of an online diary than anything else, and I'm not aware of anybody ever reading any of my posts. Consequently, I think I was fairly open and honest on Blurty.
Blurty never left. I did. I did a few posts there in 2003, didn't do any writing for 15 months or so. Came back in 2004. Left again. In 2005, I learned about ModBlog, and that took things in a whole new direction. Something new: People reading what I wrote. Who would have thought?
You will be glad to know that Blurty looks just the same as it did back in '03, and my posts haven't changed, either. They are all there, and I'm planning to copy them and repost them here. When I do, I will put "Blurty" in the title. Maybe "The Blurty Chronicles" or something like that.
The reposts here, though, will be a little different. I had JPG images from back then that I couldn't/didn't know how to post. I still have the images, and they will be inserted at appropriate points in the story.
I plan to repost the Blurty entries exactly as they were--no changes outside of correcting typos. I will also change the date of the posts to match the date they were originally posted. But there will also be an introduction and epilogue with many of them, to explain or give context to certain things that come up in the story.
I think when you read them, you will be amazed at how similar they are to my posts now. The stuff I do, what concerns me and frustrates me. "The more things change ..."
So, like the Firesign Theatre once said, "Forward ... into the past!"
Instantly, I was taken back in time, to an old friend. Blurty.
Blurty.com. It's a blogging service that I was on a few years ago. It's the first blog I used more than once. Not that I was consistent. It was more of an online diary than anything else, and I'm not aware of anybody ever reading any of my posts. Consequently, I think I was fairly open and honest on Blurty.
Blurty never left. I did. I did a few posts there in 2003, didn't do any writing for 15 months or so. Came back in 2004. Left again. In 2005, I learned about ModBlog, and that took things in a whole new direction. Something new: People reading what I wrote. Who would have thought?
You will be glad to know that Blurty looks just the same as it did back in '03, and my posts haven't changed, either. They are all there, and I'm planning to copy them and repost them here. When I do, I will put "Blurty" in the title. Maybe "The Blurty Chronicles" or something like that.
The reposts here, though, will be a little different. I had JPG images from back then that I couldn't/didn't know how to post. I still have the images, and they will be inserted at appropriate points in the story.
I plan to repost the Blurty entries exactly as they were--no changes outside of correcting typos. I will also change the date of the posts to match the date they were originally posted. But there will also be an introduction and epilogue with many of them, to explain or give context to certain things that come up in the story.
I think when you read them, you will be amazed at how similar they are to my posts now. The stuff I do, what concerns me and frustrates me. "The more things change ..."
So, like the Firesign Theatre once said, "Forward ... into the past!"
Monday, October 8, 2007
Credit where it's due
This is just a fast update to give credit where it's due.
This page got some tweaks over the weekend, courtesy of Electablog. a fellow Michigander (though he lives about 500 miles away). He did two things for me:
--Got the "subscribe" link on this page to actually work.
--Changed around the comment box, putting it on the same page as the entry, where it ought to be.
However, there was a third improvement today, too, and Electablog had nothing to do with it.
I found the instructions on how to add the comment avatar, went into my HTML to insert the needed line, took away the spaces, took a deep breath and hit the save button.
It worked! The avatars are there. Isn't it so cool?
OK, OK, it may not seem like much of an achievement to most of you, but for me ... I'm damn proud of myself.
You know, this could be only the beginning. I'm thinking of going into the HTML and sticking my hands into -- are you ready for this? --the color hex codes!
In all honesty, I did do a little programming in the past, but very little in the last 10+ years. There are so many programming languages nowadays. So I let it go and now I simply grab something that looks nice. I think I started dropping out of programming about the time they stopped using line numbers.
Line numbers. As in BASIC. You remember BASIC, don't you?
10 FOR A=1 TO 10
20 IF A=1 THEN PRINT "Hi, bartender! Gimme a beer."
25 IF A<>1 THEN PRINT "Hi, bartender! Gimme me ";A;" beers."
30 PAUSE 10
40 IF A=3 OR A=6 OR A=9 THEN PRINT "Burp!!!"
50 NEXT A
60 PRINT "No more for me, thank you. I'm plastered!"
70 PRINT "Uh-ohh! I think I'm going puke."
80 FOR B=1 TO 5
90 PRINT "BARFFFFFFF!!"
100 NEXT B
110 END
Ah, those were the days, kiddies.
This page got some tweaks over the weekend, courtesy of Electablog. a fellow Michigander (though he lives about 500 miles away). He did two things for me:
--Got the "subscribe" link on this page to actually work.
--Changed around the comment box, putting it on the same page as the entry, where it ought to be.
However, there was a third improvement today, too, and Electablog had nothing to do with it.
I found the instructions on how to add the comment avatar, went into my HTML to insert the needed line, took away the spaces, took a deep breath and hit the save button.
It worked! The avatars are there. Isn't it so cool?
OK, OK, it may not seem like much of an achievement to most of you, but for me ... I'm damn proud of myself.
You know, this could be only the beginning. I'm thinking of going into the HTML and sticking my hands into -- are you ready for this? --the color hex codes!
In all honesty, I did do a little programming in the past, but very little in the last 10+ years. There are so many programming languages nowadays. So I let it go and now I simply grab something that looks nice. I think I started dropping out of programming about the time they stopped using line numbers.
Line numbers. As in BASIC. You remember BASIC, don't you?
10 FOR A=1 TO 10
20 IF A=1 THEN PRINT "Hi, bartender! Gimme a beer."
25 IF A<>1 THEN PRINT "Hi, bartender! Gimme me ";A;" beers."
30 PAUSE 10
40 IF A=3 OR A=6 OR A=9 THEN PRINT "Burp!!!"
50 NEXT A
60 PRINT "No more for me, thank you. I'm plastered!"
70 PRINT "Uh-ohh! I think I'm going puke."
80 FOR B=1 TO 5
90 PRINT "BARFFFFFFF!!"
100 NEXT B
110 END
Ah, those were the days, kiddies.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Not too far from home
]I'm not writing about the town or county that I live in. Just so you know.
But two little towns fairly close to me are really hurting tonight.
When we (David and I) were driving to the football game Friday afternoon, we trailed a line of rain showers that had just passed through our area. We made a pair of brief stops (at my mom's house, 5 minutes; at the nursing home, 15 minutes), then had to do a little shopping and then headed east. After about 10 miles, in a smaller city, highway traffic was detoured around an accident scene. We saw the badly smashed wreckage of a Ford Explorer about a block from where we rejoined the highway.
We went to the game and didn't hear anything more about the accident until Saturday. It turns out that the Explorer had crossed the center line while the rainstorm was passing through and smashed head-on into a tractor-trailer truck. Four kids, all from the local high school, were inside. All four were taken to the hospital, and three were quickly transferred to other facilities that can better deal with their injuries.
That was bad enough. What happened early Sunday morning about 40 miles away was much worse.
You may have seen this one in the national news: An off-duty sheriff's deputy, 20 years old, apparently killed six teens in a little town nearby--about 40 miles south of us in Wisconsin. The kids were at a pizza/movie party. Three of them were students at the local high school; the other three were recent graduates. A seventh student was seriously injured. The gunman apparently was killed by authorities.
AP story: "The circumstances of the shooting were hazy Sunday and it wasn't immediately clear what the gunman's motive was, but the mother of a 14-year-old victim said the suspect may have been a jealous boyfriend. The shooting occurred in a white, two-story duplex about a block from downtown Crandon."
So the people in two little towns near us, young and old alike, are trying to understand and cope with a pair of very different tragedies. If you wouldn't mind, please put in a good word for them to the god/goddess that you believe in, to strengthen and heal them in the weeks and months ahead.
But two little towns fairly close to me are really hurting tonight.
When we (David and I) were driving to the football game Friday afternoon, we trailed a line of rain showers that had just passed through our area. We made a pair of brief stops (at my mom's house, 5 minutes; at the nursing home, 15 minutes), then had to do a little shopping and then headed east. After about 10 miles, in a smaller city, highway traffic was detoured around an accident scene. We saw the badly smashed wreckage of a Ford Explorer about a block from where we rejoined the highway.
We went to the game and didn't hear anything more about the accident until Saturday. It turns out that the Explorer had crossed the center line while the rainstorm was passing through and smashed head-on into a tractor-trailer truck. Four kids, all from the local high school, were inside. All four were taken to the hospital, and three were quickly transferred to other facilities that can better deal with their injuries.
That was bad enough. What happened early Sunday morning about 40 miles away was much worse.
You may have seen this one in the national news: An off-duty sheriff's deputy, 20 years old, apparently killed six teens in a little town nearby--about 40 miles south of us in Wisconsin. The kids were at a pizza/movie party. Three of them were students at the local high school; the other three were recent graduates. A seventh student was seriously injured. The gunman apparently was killed by authorities.
AP story: "The circumstances of the shooting were hazy Sunday and it wasn't immediately clear what the gunman's motive was, but the mother of a 14-year-old victim said the suspect may have been a jealous boyfriend. The shooting occurred in a white, two-story duplex about a block from downtown Crandon."
So the people in two little towns near us, young and old alike, are trying to understand and cope with a pair of very different tragedies. If you wouldn't mind, please put in a good word for them to the god/goddess that you believe in, to strengthen and heal them in the weeks and months ahead.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Mystery music, kemo sabe
A question has been gnawing at my mind for a long time. Years, literally. I just can't find the answer.
It has to do with classical music and the Lone Ranger--the old radio program from many years ago.
Many of you know that the music that opened the TV program (and the radio show) was the William Tell Overture by Rossini. This is about some other music they always played during the radio program.
The show had clips of other pieces of classical music at various times, as the story transitioned from scene to scene. (Why classical music? Since it was in the public domain, they didn't have to pay royalties for its use.)
Right in the middle of the program, at the program goes into and comes out of a commercial break is some music that I just can't identify. I [I]think [/I]it's by Richard Wagner. It sounds like it should be by Wagner: It's dramatic, a little grandiose, lots of brass, majestic. It's very interesting, and I really want to get a copy of the entire piece. Except I don't know whose music it is and what the title is.
So I'm turning to you. Can you help me?
You probably want to hear the music for yourself. Go to www.otr.net. It's a website where you can listen to many different old-time radio programs online, free. You can't beat the price. (You will need the free Real player to listen.)
The programs are about a half hour long, and the mystery music comes on about halfway through the program--about the 14-15 minute mark. [URL="http://otr.net/r/lone/541.ram"]This program[/URL] has the music starting at 14:46, and you hear it for about a minute and a quarter.
These are old, old programs, but I find they are still fun to listen to. I have also found a site where I can download podcasts of old radio, so I transfer them to my iPod and listen to them during some of my long drives. (Like the one I have tomorrow.)
Other radio programs I like to listen to are Gunsmoke, Jack Benny and Lux Radio Theater (which are hour-long versions of movies, with the same actors in the roles).
****
I'm driving to a football game far from home Friday night. A year ago (well, it was Oct. 15), I went to a football game out of town, and here is the weather I had to deal with ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/BezSnow-BezrunB-10-06.jpg[/IMG]
Tomorrow, the weather forecast is calling for showers and thunderstorms. And the low tomorrow night? A balmy 60 degrees! Like mid summer!
Just keep the deer away, OK? The car goes in for repairs on next Tuesday.
It has to do with classical music and the Lone Ranger--the old radio program from many years ago.
Many of you know that the music that opened the TV program (and the radio show) was the William Tell Overture by Rossini. This is about some other music they always played during the radio program.
The show had clips of other pieces of classical music at various times, as the story transitioned from scene to scene. (Why classical music? Since it was in the public domain, they didn't have to pay royalties for its use.)
Right in the middle of the program, at the program goes into and comes out of a commercial break is some music that I just can't identify. I [I]think [/I]it's by Richard Wagner. It sounds like it should be by Wagner: It's dramatic, a little grandiose, lots of brass, majestic. It's very interesting, and I really want to get a copy of the entire piece. Except I don't know whose music it is and what the title is.
So I'm turning to you. Can you help me?
You probably want to hear the music for yourself. Go to www.otr.net. It's a website where you can listen to many different old-time radio programs online, free. You can't beat the price. (You will need the free Real player to listen.)
The programs are about a half hour long, and the mystery music comes on about halfway through the program--about the 14-15 minute mark. [URL="http://otr.net/r/lone/541.ram"]This program[/URL] has the music starting at 14:46, and you hear it for about a minute and a quarter.
These are old, old programs, but I find they are still fun to listen to. I have also found a site where I can download podcasts of old radio, so I transfer them to my iPod and listen to them during some of my long drives. (Like the one I have tomorrow.)
Other radio programs I like to listen to are Gunsmoke, Jack Benny and Lux Radio Theater (which are hour-long versions of movies, with the same actors in the roles).
****
I'm driving to a football game far from home Friday night. A year ago (well, it was Oct. 15), I went to a football game out of town, and here is the weather I had to deal with ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/BezSnow-BezrunB-10-06.jpg[/IMG]
Tomorrow, the weather forecast is calling for showers and thunderstorms. And the low tomorrow night? A balmy 60 degrees! Like mid summer!
Just keep the deer away, OK? The car goes in for repairs on next Tuesday.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
End of summer clearance
The sun was out today, and the temperature was in the low 60s. But most of the leaves have gone orange and then fallen, so there's no question that we are at the end of summer.
It was a busy one here, of course, and with all the work at my mom's house and the extensive coverage of the robins earlier, some things inevitably slipped through the cracks. Now is my chance to make up.
As I came home from work today, I passed some sunflower heads on our back porch. One of the things my wife was doing today. We eventually had sunflowers this year, but it wasn't easy.
During July, things were looking promising. She had planted the seeds at the south end of our clotheslines, and they were growing pretty well ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-SunfA-7-07.jpg[/IMG]
But there were already signs of problems. Nearby, just inches away, we saw this:
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-SunfB-7-07.jpg[/IMG]
About a week and a half later, the healthy-looking one up there looked just like the other one. What could have happened? It certainly wasn't rabbits. They were already more than a foot tall. Even on their hind legs, rabbits can't reach that high.
Of course. Our friends, the deer. We live in town, but the deer regularly make their rounds, looking for goodies that are easily accessible. Since these plants were just a foot or so away from the world's roughest alley, they can just stroll along, nibbling on whatever they please. Sort of like a cafeteria line.
The sunflower plants were hearty and started growing again, but when the deer made their return visit, they chomped them all down again. And then a third time. My wife gave up.
But near the house, where we planted sunflowers last year, there was activity. The deer didn't notice those. By late August we had several sunflowers. One of them was over two feet tall. Well over two feet ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-SunfC-7-07.jpg[/IMG]
In fact, it was taller than me. Here I am, pointing the camera slightly up to look at that big head. Now [I]that[/I] is a sunflower ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-SunfD-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
Here's a close up view of that natural geometry inside ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-SunfE-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
My wife is drying out the heads and says she will harvest the seeds for next year.
Another of her projects was her morning glory plant. Last year, she got a few flowers. Not too many. And not too many this year, either. Until August. All of a sudden things started happening ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MgloryA-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
Here is a close up of one of the flowers ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MgloryB-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
But what's that inside the flower? I waited. I didn't have to wait long ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MgloryC-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
Oh, was this little bee ever having a good time, just reveling in the pollen being collected. Once she was done with this flower, off she went to the next--and we had about 20 morning glories blooming at the time ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MgloryD-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
We even had a few purple flowers later on ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MgloryE-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
The other photos were from our Labor Day trip to visit my father-in-law and the family. I got restless during the afternoon and went for a walk. David came with me. My FIL said there were sandhill cranes in the swamp nearby, and I believed him because I heard them as I was waking up that morning. But we couldn't find any.
Back at the house, we both sat down, when David spotted something in the grass nearby. He pointed it out to me ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-HidefrogA-9-07.jpg[/IMG]
Can you see it? I had a hard time, too. I went around a little to my right to get a different angle ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-HidefrogB-9-07.jpg[/IMG]
Remember that this is a close-up, and I cropped away many of the leaves. This little guy knows camouflage.
Later on there was a cookout that included watermelon for dessert. My wife got some of the watermelon and soon had a very interested friend ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MelondogA-9-07.jpg[/IMG]
What? "Dogs don't eat watermelon!" she told him. I thought so, too ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MelondogB-9-07.jpg[/IMG]
OK, so maybe I was wrong.
It was a busy one here, of course, and with all the work at my mom's house and the extensive coverage of the robins earlier, some things inevitably slipped through the cracks. Now is my chance to make up.
As I came home from work today, I passed some sunflower heads on our back porch. One of the things my wife was doing today. We eventually had sunflowers this year, but it wasn't easy.
During July, things were looking promising. She had planted the seeds at the south end of our clotheslines, and they were growing pretty well ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-SunfA-7-07.jpg[/IMG]
But there were already signs of problems. Nearby, just inches away, we saw this:
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-SunfB-7-07.jpg[/IMG]
About a week and a half later, the healthy-looking one up there looked just like the other one. What could have happened? It certainly wasn't rabbits. They were already more than a foot tall. Even on their hind legs, rabbits can't reach that high.
Of course. Our friends, the deer. We live in town, but the deer regularly make their rounds, looking for goodies that are easily accessible. Since these plants were just a foot or so away from the world's roughest alley, they can just stroll along, nibbling on whatever they please. Sort of like a cafeteria line.
The sunflower plants were hearty and started growing again, but when the deer made their return visit, they chomped them all down again. And then a third time. My wife gave up.
But near the house, where we planted sunflowers last year, there was activity. The deer didn't notice those. By late August we had several sunflowers. One of them was over two feet tall. Well over two feet ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-SunfC-7-07.jpg[/IMG]
In fact, it was taller than me. Here I am, pointing the camera slightly up to look at that big head. Now [I]that[/I] is a sunflower ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-SunfD-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
Here's a close up view of that natural geometry inside ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-SunfE-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
My wife is drying out the heads and says she will harvest the seeds for next year.
Another of her projects was her morning glory plant. Last year, she got a few flowers. Not too many. And not too many this year, either. Until August. All of a sudden things started happening ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MgloryA-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
Here is a close up of one of the flowers ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MgloryB-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
But what's that inside the flower? I waited. I didn't have to wait long ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MgloryC-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
Oh, was this little bee ever having a good time, just reveling in the pollen being collected. Once she was done with this flower, off she went to the next--and we had about 20 morning glories blooming at the time ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MgloryD-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
We even had a few purple flowers later on ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MgloryE-8-07.jpg[/IMG]
The other photos were from our Labor Day trip to visit my father-in-law and the family. I got restless during the afternoon and went for a walk. David came with me. My FIL said there were sandhill cranes in the swamp nearby, and I believed him because I heard them as I was waking up that morning. But we couldn't find any.
Back at the house, we both sat down, when David spotted something in the grass nearby. He pointed it out to me ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-HidefrogA-9-07.jpg[/IMG]
Can you see it? I had a hard time, too. I went around a little to my right to get a different angle ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-HidefrogB-9-07.jpg[/IMG]
Remember that this is a close-up, and I cropped away many of the leaves. This little guy knows camouflage.
Later on there was a cookout that included watermelon for dessert. My wife got some of the watermelon and soon had a very interested friend ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MelondogA-9-07.jpg[/IMG]
What? "Dogs don't eat watermelon!" she told him. I thought so, too ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Sum07-MelondogB-9-07.jpg[/IMG]
OK, so maybe I was wrong.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Sort of down
Hi, I just wanted to do an update.
For as dry as it was all spring and summer here, the rain has finally gotten around to our area. We have had some good soakings in the last couple weeks, and more rain is predicted for later today and tonight.
If you wanted to see the pretty leaves around here, well, better wait till next year. Last week's rain and wind blew most of the leaves down, and the branches are mostly bare.
I'll be honest, I've been kind of down ever since I hit that f---ing deer. It's not that I hit the deer. It's just dealing with getting the car fixed up yet again. I have a long drive to my game this Friday, and the car won't be ready by then. (At least the smashed headlight still works. It points in a crazy direction, but it works.) Don't even know yet when I can take it in. I talked to the insurance gal on Monday, and she seemed totally oblivious to the fact that I had taken it in to their designated repair shop last Thursday for an estimate.
I'm down about other things, too. The sale of my mom's house is taking longer than I thought (or the guy thought) because his VA loan application is still in limbo somewhere in South Carolina. He's getting upset, too. VA loans are cheaper (lower interest rate) than standard bank loans, but he and I both know that the snow will be flying around here before long, and that's hardly ideal weather for moving. Also, the house insurance bill is now due. Didn't want to pay it and didn't think I would have to. But I do. Now I've got to worry about the property taxes. Those are due in January. God, I hope it doesn't last that long! I'm still paying for the expenses of running two houses.
Then there are still other things. At home. I started writing a separate post about that--but if it ever gets posted, it would be "friends only." I mean, we get along well, but ... we're totally different in certain ways, and I wish I had someone to, well, have fun with. So I'm hurting a little inside. Back at the old efx2, I wrote some partial posts about the same situation. Those were never posted and now have vanished into cyberoblivion.
There is some good news. Remember that post about my dad's guns from a month ago? Two of them have sold, and I have received checks for them. Two others are still being advertised.
I have some "end of summer" photos that I want to post, and I will when I get the chance. Some time fairly soon. But I'm having a problem with motivation right now.
That's as much as you're getting out of me right now. Maybe next time I'll be more excited about something.
For as dry as it was all spring and summer here, the rain has finally gotten around to our area. We have had some good soakings in the last couple weeks, and more rain is predicted for later today and tonight.
If you wanted to see the pretty leaves around here, well, better wait till next year. Last week's rain and wind blew most of the leaves down, and the branches are mostly bare.
I'll be honest, I've been kind of down ever since I hit that f---ing deer. It's not that I hit the deer. It's just dealing with getting the car fixed up yet again. I have a long drive to my game this Friday, and the car won't be ready by then. (At least the smashed headlight still works. It points in a crazy direction, but it works.) Don't even know yet when I can take it in. I talked to the insurance gal on Monday, and she seemed totally oblivious to the fact that I had taken it in to their designated repair shop last Thursday for an estimate.
I'm down about other things, too. The sale of my mom's house is taking longer than I thought (or the guy thought) because his VA loan application is still in limbo somewhere in South Carolina. He's getting upset, too. VA loans are cheaper (lower interest rate) than standard bank loans, but he and I both know that the snow will be flying around here before long, and that's hardly ideal weather for moving. Also, the house insurance bill is now due. Didn't want to pay it and didn't think I would have to. But I do. Now I've got to worry about the property taxes. Those are due in January. God, I hope it doesn't last that long! I'm still paying for the expenses of running two houses.
Then there are still other things. At home. I started writing a separate post about that--but if it ever gets posted, it would be "friends only." I mean, we get along well, but ... we're totally different in certain ways, and I wish I had someone to, well, have fun with. So I'm hurting a little inside. Back at the old efx2, I wrote some partial posts about the same situation. Those were never posted and now have vanished into cyberoblivion.
There is some good news. Remember that post about my dad's guns from a month ago? Two of them have sold, and I have received checks for them. Two others are still being advertised.
I have some "end of summer" photos that I want to post, and I will when I get the chance. Some time fairly soon. But I'm having a problem with motivation right now.
That's as much as you're getting out of me right now. Maybe next time I'll be more excited about something.
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