Sunday, of course, is Easter; and for
pagans like us that means the Easter Bunny will be visiting. Not
sure how the Easter Bunny came into existence, but my Lovely Honey
Pie mentioned a reference she heard that the famous bunny has pagan
roots. I did some searching on the interwebs and learned that nobody
really knows where the Easter bunny originated; but there is
speculation that the pagan festival of the Goddess Eostre might fit.
Legends tell of a goddess of spring and fertility, and a rabbit was
associated with both due to their prolific breeding abilities.
Nobody seems to know for sure.
Anyway, we’ll be hiding eggs so the
grandsons can go hunting. We might even boil some up and color them!
Oh wait… that sounds backwards. Maybe that’s because the ones
we’ll hide are going to be the plastic kind. You know, eggs you can
open up and stash a surprise inside. Hopefully we’ll remember where
they all are… might be a good idea to count them before we do the
hiding. Last year there was one “golden egg” that had a $5 bill
inside. Seemed like a fun idea, until one grandson got a golden egg
and the other didn’t. So this year there will be two golden eggs.
That way, regardless of who finds them; each grandson will know in
advance that there will be one golden egg per person.
In the “good old days,” we would
hard boil a bunch of eggs a day or two before, and then they would
mysteriously be hidden by the Easter Bunny. Also hidden were the
infamous Easter baskets, loaded with jelly beans, chocolate eggs, and
of course a chocolate bunny. Back then, it was especially important
to find all the
eggs; because unlike the plastic ones, eggs will eventually smell
really bad if left at room temperature. So yes, we counted the eggs
ahead of time and made really, really sure all were picked up before
the Easter morning festivities came to a close.
So the egg hunt has evolved into a cash
enterprise… my Beautiful Girlfriend has been dropping coins in a
jar for the last several weeks so she can load the plastic eggs with
money. I’m not sure money is a good replacement for chocolate, but
of course you can use it to buy sweets. But since their parents
would have to drive them to a place to spend their loot, cash is
probably a healthier gift than a few pounds of candy.
Maybe.
Anyway, the most important part of all
this Easter fun is spending time with the family. I’ve invited the
family over for Thanksgiving. “I’m making Thanksgiving for
Easter,” I told them all. “Mashed potatoes, gravy, vegetables,
and pumpkin pie.” “Oooh,” our daughter said, “you know those
raisins you put in the pie last time?” I assured her I’d be doing
that again. I love to cook, but I also love to push the envelope a
bit with recipes. Sometimes that works nicely, other times, not so
good. Raisins dropped in the pumpkin pie mix just before they go
into the oven turns an ordinary pumpkin pie into an intriguing
treat!!
Please have a splendid Easter. Oh, and let me know if you see any of these “funny little bunnies.”
‘Twas the 1st of April, but no foolin’, we heard our first peepers. Now we’re coming up on Easter and several more have awoken. That, of course, means that if it ever warms up this month, we’ll be hearing a chorus so loud we’ll have to raise our voices each evening in order to communicate. I said “if it ever warms up” with a smidge of sarcasm; but not really, but maybe yes, I just don’t know, but this seems to be as good a place as any to inject an run-on sentence and whine about the cold nights and HOLY COW it’s supposed to be in the 30s tonight which means any peepers that may have awoken will go back to bed but it’s also supposed to be near 60 tomorrow and then the rains are gonna come and oh boy howdy the peepers will really start singing then!
For those who are unaware, peepers are frogs; and are a welcome sign of spring here in Beautiful West Michigan. Of course, they usher in springtime elsewhere too. But I don’t live elsewhere, I live here, so I’m always a little giddy when the peepers sing. If you’ve never heard peepers, well that’s just too bad. But because I love them so, I hereby include a recorded them for you so you can enjoy their songs. Now the sounds in this recording are from two different species: peepers and toads (the peepers are the ones shouting, “PEEP!!”). Just turn on your speakers, click on the little triangle thingy, close your eyes and open your ears. Why close your eyes? Well that’s because the peepers sing at night, and to be honest I’ve never seen them except on TV!! OK, here we go…
And now for something completely different: Peeps. You know, those marshmallow candy chickens that appear in the stores during Easter time. When I was a kid, peeps only were yellow and chicken shaped. The name and the shape went well together; because hey, they kinda looked like little baby chickens. And little baby chickens say “peep” a lot. I’ve never eaten a real baby chicken, but I suer have had my share of Peeps. Now I would never intentionally harm a baby chicken. But regarding Peeps, well just never you mind all the naughty things that went through my mind when the Peeps arrived in my Easter basket.
I admit it, I have squished their little heads. I place my forefinger on one eye and my thumb on the other, and press them together until the Peep’s head looks like one of those cartoon characters that had a very bad accident. I have also decapitated them with great delight. Usually their heads are removed with my teeth. In fact, I don’t think I can ever remember eating them any other way. I’ve never forced them to joust though. Seems like a waste of Peeps if you ask me.
Joust?? Yes, I’m not sure I’m happy to know about it; but a friend once told me about “Peep jousting.” Of course, I just had to ask what the heck-a-ma-hookey that was all about. “Well you get two Peeps and place a toothpick in each one. That’s their lance, you see. Then you put them on a plate and pop them in the microwave; hit the juice and watch them stab each other as they expand. Really cool in a microwave with a rotating plate inside.” Ummm no. Rather boring really. Yes, I tried it, with family watching.
We were not impressed.
Back the peepers… there’s a song about them that has been a jazz standard for many years. It originated back in 1938, and below is a clip with Louis Armstrong playing his horn and singing it in “Going Places,” the movie for which the song was written. When I grew up during the Mesozoic Era, this song was still being played somewhat regularly and was often featured on an extinct brand of TV program called the “variety show.” The second video is a 1958 recording of Louis Armstrong swingin’ it on “The Gary Moore Show.”
My Beautiful Girlfriend and I bought a
home here in Bear Swamp back in 1982. In those days, for the
exorbitant price of $36,900 we were able to purchase a 1940 vintage
home with 5 acres of land. We probably could have done a little more
research before buying. For example, as I mentioned, we live in a
quaint area known to the old timers as Bear Swamp. We bought the
place in the summer, when the two creeks that traverse the property
were flowing nicely, the grass was nice and green, and the basement
was dry. “Did you ever get water in the basement?” we asked the
sellers. “No, no” they replied, “no problems.” The
following spring brought lots of snow melt that made the creek REALLY
wide. And something strange happened: water in the basement. Just
enough to let us know we live in a… um… swamp. And these folks
didn’t even bother with a sump pump!! We fixed that of course…
still get a little water that comes up through the cracks in the
concrete, but not nearly as much as before the sump pump was
installed.
Looking back I also remember asking,
“heater works well?” we queried. “Oh yeah, keeps us nice and
warm in the winter.”
Well that’s nice.
Winter came, and our ½ tankful of fuel
oil was gone rather quickly. No biggie… didn’t really know what to
expect. We filled the tank, and it was gone again in less than a
month. Not so good!! Fortunately, the chimney was originally built
for a coal furnace, so I knew it would be OK for firewood. Got us a
cheapie wood stove and started burning wood. Lots more work, but
saved us a bunch of cash.
Since I work for a living, I don’t want
to spend all my free time cutting wood; so we buy most of it. Lots
of folks out there who want to sell us firewood. Some are better
than others. Now my Dad kept me and my brother very busy with
firewood when we were kids; so I know a little bit about this wood
heating stuff. One of the cardinal rules: seasoned (dry) wood works
the best. Sounds like a no-brainer right? And lots of folks say
they have seasoned wood for sale.
With wood suppliers, we’ve had good
luck and we’ve had bad luck. Good luck is when we get nicely
seasoned wood, predominantly oak; nice clean load of logs. That’s
the kind of luck we’ve had for the last couple years; but this past
time we got about 40 % oak and 60% beech. Oh, and we also got at
least 2 cubic yards of soil that I don’t recall ordering. Apparently
the front end loader they used to scoop up my wood went just a smidge
too deep. I was not very happy when I literally had to use a shovel
to get some of the logs out of the pile. And when I bring the logs
in the house for the fireplace (actually a furnace with glass doors
and fake bricks for pretty), it’s pretty dirty and leaves a nice
little mess.
Really bad luck
is one of those “learning the hard way” experiences. We ran out
of wood a couple of winters ago, so I found a guy who said he had
some nice, seasoned oak. Well the wood was green, and about 10% of
the logs were full of ants. Can’t really bring logs full of ants in
the house… they crawl around while wondering what the heck happened
to their home (poor kids…). Well guess what? After exhausting
all the logs from the dirt pile, I answered a Craig’s List ad for
seasoned oak. Called the guy and he knew who I was!! Then he told
me who he
was, and I was apprehensive.
“So…
your ad says this is seasoned oak? Ready to burn?” I asked.
“Yep!” he assured me. So I went ahead and bought two cords. He
delivered it after dark, so I didn’t get a good look at it. I did
notice it was a bit heavy; and the following day I realized why.
Green wood. And just like last time, about 10% of the logs were full
of ants.
So
this year our wood stove started out eating dirt logs; and when the
dirt logs were gone I started roasting ants. I know it sounds cruel
to burn the ants. Seriously, my spirit hurts when I embark upon the
selfish journey of heating my home with ant infested logs. I keep
the logs just outside the door and bring them in only when they can
go straight into the fire. And I say a little prayer for the ants.
Needless to say, two of our local firewood suppliers have lost my business. I bet they don’t even know the log driver’s waltz!
It’s that time again… my Beautiful
Girlfriend is away for the weekend. She and several of her friends
have embarked upon a Women’s Retreat; and of course boys are not
invited. That’s OK… I had chores to do. I took advantage of the
sunshine today and brought in some firewood to warm our bones. We do
have natural gas heat but we like the way wood feels much better.
And it’s pretty in our “fireplace” (it’s a furnace that looks
like a fireplace, with glass doors).
Anyway, there I was, earlier in the
week, scheming about what I was gonna do when my Baby left for the
weekend. There was a time when I was young and much more foolish
when I would seize such an opportunity for drinking too much herbal
stuff and smoking too much beer (or something like that…).
Thankfully, those days are long gone; but I still have a propensity
to spoil myself with goodies that I don’t normally eat too much
anymore.
One of the first treats that always
seems to pop into my noggin is pizza. I mean, hey, that stuff should
be classified as a controlled substance. It’s right up there with
fried chicken, potato chips, and butter pecan ice cream. I like all
that
stuff way too much.
Good thing I limit my intake, or I’d soon weigh 793 pounds. I’m no
skinny boy mind you, but I’m not a complete Harold Honk-A-Doodle
either. And yes, Harry Honk-A-Doodle is a name I just made up and
that would be on my shirt if I ate all the goodies in the universe
until my skin exploded.
But once in a while is OK, right? Well I can convince myself of
that. And yes, my Lovely Bride knows full well what I’m up to this
weekend. I toyed with ordering pizza tonight, but I like lots of
sauce. Seems like every time I ask for extra sauce, the opposite
occurs. And here in Michigan pizza is often cut into squares. Don’t
they know you’re supposed to cut it like PIE??!!?? Pizza… pie!!
Hello!!!
The more I mulled it over, the more I kept going back to the same
conclusion: if you want something done just right, sometimes you
gotta do it yourself. Got me a Boboli crust, poured almost the whole
jar of Classico pizza sauce out and spread it on the crust. Cooked
up some Italian sausage; laid some chunks in the sauce. Then on went
the cheese, and on top is onions, mushrooms, black olives, green
pepper and uncured pepperoni (no nasty chemicals). I actually read
the directions on the Boboli crust package: preheated the oven to
450 and popped it in for about 10 minutes. The final product was
magnificent!! Oh, and had to wash it down with a Coke from Mexico…
they use glass bottles and real cane sugar.
Am I naughty or what?? But wait, there’s more… I might
accidentally eat some ice cream later. And you guessed it, butter
pecan. Haagen Dazs no less. A little container. I had to do it you
see, it will nicely complement the last piece of carrot cake that’s
left over from my birthday.
My Beautiful Girlfriend will be home Sunday some time; so that
means I’ll need to chill out on the goodies beforehand. Why? Well
no special reason, I just don’t want to greet her while I’m spacing
out from a food coma. Probably would be a little weird… eyes like
little slits, walking badly, nodding off during conversation,
burping, mumbling unintelligibly… yeah I’ll need to avoid that
scene.
Good thing she’s only on retreat once a year!!
This week’s video has nothing to do with the story… but it’s a hoot.
So there I was, minding my own
business, enjoying life, the universe, and everything (42 for those
in the know) (nudge nudge, wink wink), and oh yeah by the way I’m
fixin’ to enjoy my 65th trip around the Sun; when suddenly
some radio guy says an astonishing FaceTalking thing: this summer
will ring in the 50th anniversary of Woodstock; and I
can’t believe it because, hey, I was 15 that year and I would really
liked to
have gone to that magnificent experience but there was no way in
H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks that was
gonna happen so I listened intently to every piece of music on the
radio that had anything to do with all the concert action and HOLY
MOLY this run-on sentence is OUT OF CONTROL!!
*Whew!!*
This
aging stuff is so crazy!! I consider myself very fortunate… my
health is good; and I can pretty much do everything I was able to do
when I was much younger. The only difference is that sometimes it
hurts or sometimes it takes longer. Apparently I don’t look to worn
out. I was setting up a computer for one of my very new coworkers;
and I mentioned that I had a “big birthday” coming up. She
asked, “oh, are you going to hit 50?” My immediate response was,
“we can be FRIENDS!!”
Not
sure if she was sucking up for some future special computer help or
what… OK probably not; but I took it as a nice compliment.
Saw
my doctor the other day, and we chatted about my upcoming retirement
next year. She urged me to make a plan, because “some people have
a difficulty with too much time on their hands.” Umm… no problem
for this kid!! I have a few million things I want to do, so
hopefully I’ll actually get to do maybe a tenth of what’s been
floating around in my mind for the past several years. I love to
grow food, and I also enjoy writing. I think I’d like to try my hand
at teaching food how to write. Perhaps we could use beet juice for
ink!! That would involve some “bloodletting” from some
“volunteer” beets. Now that I think of it, I’ve never heard
beets volunteer for anything. And thankfully, I’ve never heard beets
cry when they are bleeding.
I’m
often asked, would we be doing any travel? Well we sure hope so.
One of the big things on the agenda, though, is to clean up the mess
in the garage that’s the result of that giant Clutter Bomb exploding
in there. A Clutter Bomb simply has to
be what caused that mess. I mean, I walk around in the garage and I
fall to my knees and scream “where did all this crap come from??”
Then I get up and remember where the hammer is and oh yeah there’s
my drill and HOLY CARP I found that door hinge I buried in the back
of the shelf about 12 years ago!! So OK, the Clutter Bomb exploded
very gradually… over the course of the 37 years we’ve lived here.
There
are, of course, other parts of our little universe that have suffered
Clutter Bomb explosions. I’ll get to those too… just have to chip
away at it. I really do plan
to stop procrastinating. That will happen either tomorrow or perhaps
a couple weeks after that.
I
hope.
Maybe.
In the meantime, I can hardly wait to see what advances lie ahead for the travel scene…
I cry, I weep, I gnash my teeth. Some
flame-headed goat poop sniffing slime licker (or maybe lickers) stole
from me.
There I was, minding my own business,
going to Walmart because the local Meijer removed 8 O’Clock coffee
(in the big bags) from their shelves. I really don’t like to go to
Walmart, because they have a history of treating their employees
rather badly. Not sure if that has changed over the years but the
whole premise is indelibly burned into my brain cells and so I would
rather not support them, thank you very much.
So… as I was saying … there I was
minding my own business, with my Beautiful Girlfriend, buying my
coffee at Walmart, and thinking, “yay!! We scored 4 big bags of 8
O’Clock coffee!! Enough for several weeks!! This is most marvelous
indeed!” We happily put the bags of coffee in the pantry and sang
songs of caffeinated joy. Well OK maybe not. But we were glad to
get our stash.
I used a debit card for the purchase,
which I do quite often. I rarely carry cash, you see. This is due
to a strange phenomenon called spontaneous wallet depletion. In
other words, in the “good old days” before debit cards, my cash
seemed to disappear pretty quickly. Not sure if using the debit card
changed that, but at least now I’m able to keep track of where the
money goes a bit more easily. I get online regularly and check to
make sure all is well.
However, this time I didn’t check for
several days; and my checking account shrank by an extra $317 over
the course of about a week. Very shortly after I used my debit card
at Walmart; someone somewhere somehow hacked something and started
using my debit card info at a Walmart in Elk Grove, Illinois; which
is a bit over 200 miles from here. Little nibbles… $35 here,
$35.36 there… carefully staying under $50 which I guess is a
threshold that starts to raise flags.
I was not very happy.
Dunno what it is about Walmart, but a
similar fraud thing happened to me with my credit card after making a
purchase at Walmart.com ! Very cool indeed, right?? I lost the use
of my card for a little over a week after reporting it stolen. At
least I had the debit card. Now I’ve lost the use of a debit card
for 7 to 10 days, but at least I have a credit card. Fortunately,
our credit union took care of all the fraud and even refilled my
checking account with the amount that was stolen. I’ve since learned
of an app called CardValet; which apparently can stop this. Once the
new debit card arrives, I’ll enter it into the app, and when I’m not
using it, I can use CardValet to turn the card off. I guess it works
with credit cards too.
Guess what? For the time being, I’m
carrying cash again. And no, I’m not paranoid about using electronic
payments; but you can bet I’ll be using the CardValet app regularly.
Oh and by the way, regarding the
cyberthieves: not only are they flame-headed goat poop sniffing
slime lickers, but they also pee themselves in public places but just
sit there with a silly grin. I’m sure they also enjoy eating other
people’s boogers; and I would also not be surprised if they smear dog
snot on their eyebrows.
Such a dinosaur I am; and very happy to be that way. I’m something of an oddball regarding technology. Although my job in computer support takes me on lots of journeys with new devices and gadgets; my love for simplicity keeps me grounded in an “antique” world. My job can get rather stressful at times; so in an effort to take care of myself I’ll often seize the opportunity to take some quiet time. Meditation if you will. I keep it simple, I just step away from all the gadgets and reflect on what I’m grateful for; and then ask The Great Committee In The Sky for guidance.
Then of course
there are other times when I’ll turn to technology for a diversion.
Maybe I’ll play a CD… or a record! That’s right
folks, I actually said I listen to records!!! And some youngsters
actually think records are way cool!! Oh God Oh God… So yes I’m
a dinosaur and I’m not afraid to admit it.
So there, nyaa
nyaa na boo boo!!
I’m one of
those weirdos who thinks paying for satellite or cable TV is a waste
of money. There’s lots of stuff still available for free… for
example, we actually use a TV antenna for most of our viewing
pleasure. I say most, because we do have access to the interwebs and
get TV stuff from our Roku. But no cable or dish. Nope.
I also love a
very archaic device called the radio. My TV antenna looks like a
giant fish skeleton on a pole, and not only does it work well for
television, it also does a great job of grabbing lots of FM stations.
Much of my FM listening revolves either around NPR or music. NPR is
great for staying informed, but when I hear all the reports about war
and suffering and cockamamie government shutdown stuff with climate
change mixed in for good measure, I get a really heavy heart. So
when I’d rather hide on the harsh realities of the world I seek out
some good old rock ‘n roll. Unfortunately most commercial radio
stations seem to have their music selections stuck on AC/DC, Bob
Seeger, and Lynard Skynard. WAY too much repetition. WAY too much
repetition. WAY too much… well you get the idea. That’s when I’ll
look for those oddball “community radio” stations.
On the other
hand, you have AM radio. Say what??? Anyone besides me remember AM
radio? May sound like a silly question, but with all this
“subscription addiction” (satellite radio, cable TV, etc.)
lots and lots of people are amazed to “discover” AM radio.
AM is short for “amplitude modulation,” which is the oldest
method of adding audio to a radio signal so it can be broadcast. The
technology dates back to 1906, which is why many radio hobbyists
refer to it as “ancient modulation.” For more info click here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AM_broadcasting
AM radio was
pretty much all we had available for music when I was a kid. So for
me, it’s like an old friend; and I’m very thankful that it
doesn’t seem to be going away any time soon. We live in an area
where Chicago stations come in all day long, and I still find myself
clinging to ancient stations with only 3 call letters. WGN (720 on
your AM dial) is one of my favorites… those kids seem to have a
great time being on the radio and they make me laugh. And now, West
Michigan has its very own Public Radio Oldies Station!! Say wha???
YES!! Commercial free oldies, 24/7!! And what’s even more awesome
is they stream it to the whole planet here:
http://www.wgvu.org/realoldies/
Now that it’s
winter outside, I leave for work when it’s dark. And of course,
it’s pretty much getting dark again when I get home. Something
magic happens to the AM radio band after the daylight goes bye bye:
SKIP. Skip is a very old radio term that describes
when radio waves are sent from the earth and into the sky, then
bounce back down again. If you could watch skip happening, it would
look somewhat similar to when a well tossed stone skips across water.
Skip is especially prevalent on the AM band between dusk and dawn.
Sure, the AM radio is plagued by noise and fading, but there are many
high powered stations that provide reliable listening over a very
wide geographical area.
In my
professional opinion, this boils down to just plain fun. So when I’m
driving around in the dark, especially during a long drive, I really
enjoy frolicking about on the AM radio band. For example: I
recently tuned to 540 AM on the way to work and was listening to the
CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) out of Regina, Saskatchewan.
A mere 1000 miles away!! Never bothered to check down on that part
of the dial before.
Another time:
on our way down to Florida to celebrate my Father-In-Law’s 85th
birthday, it was getting late outside and we were really
ready to be done driving. Just a few miles from the Florida border,
we heard on one of the local FM stations that the Chicago Bears were
playing against the Philadelphia Eagles, and that they might actually
have a shot at the playoffs. Well normally we don’t really give a
golly gosh darn about football. But the Bears haven’t been in the
Superbowl for a loooonnnnggg time… so we thought we’d try to catch
the game. Tuned around FM… nothing. Then I tried one of my
presets: 780 on my AM dial, and lo and behold, WBBM was coming in
clear as a bell out of Chicago!! So we got to listen to the game,
live from Soldier Field. Cool, huh??
So my friends, I
invite you to give this very old medium a whirl. You just might
accidentally have some fun! There are lots of listings on the
internet for AM radio stations if you care to check out other areas
of the country and / or the world. If you find one you like, you
might also be able to stream it from the webbernet if the snap
crackle and pop starts to bug you. As far as broadcasters, I found
nice listing here: http://www.northpine.com/broadcast/50kwam.html
I leave you with
a very short list of stations that are pretty easy to pick up between
dusk and dawn, especially if you are here in the Midwest:
650
WSM Nashville, Tennessee (Check out the Grand Ole Opry on
Saturday Nights!)
700
WLW Cincinnati, Ohio
720
WGN Chicago, Illinois (Home of the Chicago Cubs! Lots of other
entertaining stuff too.)
740
CFZM
“Zoomer Radio” in Toronto, Canada (Wonderful music variety,
excellent sound quality.)
750
WSB Atlanta, Georgia
760
WJR Detroit, Michigan
770
WABC New York City (This was a big rock ‘n roll station when I
was a kid growing up on Long Island, NY. Mostly talk now… ah
well).
780
WBBM Chicago, Illinois (All news all the time.)(I use this
station for an “alarm clock” when I take a nap at lunch)
830
WCCO Minneapolis, Minnesota
840
WHAS Louisville, Kentucky
880
WCBS New York City (News Radio.)
890
WLS Chicago, Illinois
990
CBW Winnipeg, Manitoba (CBC Radio)
1020
KDKA Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (One of the oldest stations on the
dial.)
I have a small complaint I’d like to
register at this time. It seems that just a couple weeks ago, I was
listening to The Who singing “My Generation” on the AM radio
thing; and now I’m a few years older and I think it’s been 50 years
or so (I Googled it…54 years!!) since that song was first released
and I can’t figure out where all the time went so quickly and how
could this happen to both me and my Beautiful Girlfriend when we were
just 17 years old when we first met and now we are saying things like
“Medicare” and “Social Security” and this causes me to write
run-on sentences because I mean really, how does this happen to
gentle people likeUS??
How??
One day at a time I guess.
So there we were, minding our own business, driving down to Florida
to celebrate Grampa Hilliard’s 85th birthday, and all of a
sudden an “economic summit” erupted. We took the opportunity to
discuss retirement finances; and because we were in a car that was
set to cruise at 70 mph (OK, maybe a smidge more), it was not really
a good idea for either of us to stand up and walk out of the room
when we came to a challenging part of the discussion. That would
just make ouch and bad road rolling. Even after 45 years of wedded
blisters, money discussions can cause very bad juju if not handled
delicately and with mutual respect. Thankfully, there was no weeping
or gnashing of teeth; and we came to the agreement that neither of us
need to sell our bodies on the streets in exchange for cans of tuna
fish and expired loaves of bread.
Hey kids, this is kinda scary stuff!! In a little over a year, I’ll
be retiring from a good paying job. I’ll go from “Highly Trained
Monkey What Knows Computer Stuff” to “Highly Motivated Penny
Pinching Garden Grower Person.” I’m very grateful I’ve acquired
the skills to keep a good job, and I’m also very grateful that I know
how to grow food, because I have a feeling we’re gonna want some. We
like to eat, you see.
When it comes right down to it, though, my Honey Pie and I are
blessed beyond belief. If things keep going the way they are now,
we’ll be able to retire with no debt; and we may even have a little
extra socked away for emergencies and maybe even some fun stuff. And
yes, I’ll be growing food, and selling it to anyone who comes to
visit us. I’ll be practicing my sales pitch… “Ummm hi!!
Thanks for coming over! Long time no see!! Did you know we now have
a ‘visiting tax?’ Yes!! You pay us money and we give you food items
from the garden. Whaddya mean you don’t like eggplant!!??!!”
Well OK maybe not.
As I mentioned before, we are blessed beyond belief. And the good
thing is, getting old doesn’t mean we can’t keep having fun. We were
fortunate enough to attend a Who concert last year, and those old
farts are still rockin’ out.
In our home, dinosaurs still roam. I’m
not afraid to admit it: we still use a landline. We like the
reliability, and the cool fact that it almost never drops a call.
And yes, we have an answering machine too. When I’m not looking for
a job (which is pretty much all the time), our answering machine
greeting is recreation for my inner child.
For example, if you call, you might
hear something like: “I HAVE PICKLES IN MY NOSTRILS FOR YOUUUUU!!”
This one, of course is sung loudly to the tune of “I have pickles
in my nostrils for you.”
Another might be a rather forceful
announcement like: “This machine is for singing!! Please begin
singing after the tone!!”
And I change the greeting regularly.
Anyway, those who know us will leave a
message. Those who don’t, well we don’t care! For many moons, we
used the answering machine to screen our calls. Seems like
telemarketing calls are becoming more and more numerous; and we just
don’t like being bothered. Rather than get annoyed at the poor
person who calls (they are just trying to earn a living), we just got
to a point where we quit answering until the answering machine kicks
in. If we recognize the caller, we quick pick up and say hi.
We finally got some caller ID
compatible phones a couple years ago. However, when I went to
activate this on our landline, the nice phone company person told me
there would be a charge for it. That was completely unacceptable…
I mean sheesh!! We pay enough for unlimited long distance and all
that. Mind you, I do technology stuff for a living; and I knew full
well that caller ID was already present in the landline
techno-universe. So, I passed.
Enter the 2016 elections. Holy MOLY we
got bombarded with calls!! Since I hadn’t thought much about caller
ID for a few years, I thought I’d call the phone company again and
see what was up. Lo and behold, there was no longer a fee for caller
ID!! So fiddle dee dee, we have caller ID!! And this pleases me!!
Those marketer kids are naughty… they
have software that will fake your area code so it looks like the call
is coming from somewhere nearby. And for some reason, the calls
always get dropped before the answering machine turns on!! That’s
just fine with us.
Every once in awhile though, I get to
feeling a bit playful. I’ll answer the call and be completely silly,
which of course drives the caller a bit nuts.
“Hello Sir, I’m calling to warn you that your Microsoft certificate is about to expire.”
“Oh
my!! What do I do??”
“Well sir, are you near your computer?? And is it turned on?“
“Yes,
yes I am!1” I tell them, but of course I’m not near and it isn’t
on.
“OK Sir, I want you to press the following keys so I may troubleshoot…”
I
don’t give them the chance to finish and I blurt out, “OH NO!! Do
you see my screen?? WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? I DON’T THINK I LIKE
THIS!!”
**CLICK**
Oh darn, they hung up.
Another
caller fell victim to my silliness recently…
“Hello sir, I’m doing a customer service survey and I’d like to ask you…”
I
interrupt: “Pizza??”
“No no sir, this is a customer service survey. I’m not trying to sell you any food or other…”
“Well
I’m pretty hungry, I’m hoping for some pizza!!”
“Sir!! Is there anyone in your home 18 or older I can speak to??”
“Oh
yes, my cat!! I’ll go get him for you!!”
**CLICK**
Oh darn, another hang up.
Anyway,
we really
like caller ID. Come to find out, there’s a telecommunications
expert who is providing a service to intercept telemarketers before
they even get to your phone!! And they record the call, which can be
very amusing.
I know this time of year brings out the
unique extraterrestrial sandwich making abilities of all the people
I’ve never met. After all, another year is coming to a close, and
that of course means that a new year will soon be shoving itself
under the doorjamb with increasing intensity during the Artificial
Aurora Activation, building great suspense as to what the new year
may hold in store for us while the cat dashes to the refrigerator for
another tall, refreshing glass of Onion Powder Surprise (“…wow!!
This tastes like onion powder!! What a surprise!!) and yet another
run-on yet very silly sentence makes it way to the interwebs for
unsuspecting Chocolate Clickers to read while sipping Bark Noodle
Tea.
Yes, I think so.
As the Holidays wind down to a dull
roar, this is the time for the often customary promises to be uttered
aloud, but sometimes not uttered at all; and these are heavily
intensified in order to cajole our brains into thinking that we can
actually improve ourselves somehow by creating lofty goals to which
we can aspire and hopefully make something better either inside or
outside of us.
Huh??
You know, New Year’s Resolutions.
Yes, have some.
OK, I will. Here are some of the
revulsions I may or may not be interested in spraying on my Jinkle
Toast during the coming year. I must warn the reader in advance:
some of these New Year’s Resonations may cause involuntary
snorking and / or ha ha crinkling.
In other words, I hope they give you a smile.
Therefore
and with Great Fanfare, I Hereby Unnecessarily Capitalize The
Announcement of My New Year’s Resuscitations For 2019:
R)
I hereby promise to try to attempt to take a whack at an effort to
strive for an undertaking; and maybe even 7 of those. Attempts.
Tries. Maybe.
4)
My body fat index has reached 947% !!! OH MY!!! Maybe I need to
enjoy fewer Lard Licking Contests!! What do you mean you’re not
supposed to eat the bacon grease?? And… no!!! No more Olive Oil
Milkshakes made with 100% heavy whipping cream?? Good Gravy!!! How
will I survive??? Oh yeah… fruits and vegetables. Oh yes, and lean
proteins. More from plants than animals. Yes. Thank you.
G!)
As I sit here typing, I realize that I could combine this finger
flinging activity with something more aerobic like perhaps hang
gliding or bungee cord plunking. I often try with little success to
perform bungee cord concerts, but the notes all seem to come out the
same. Perhaps the hang gliding bungee cord concerts will give me a
new perspective on what it really means to be more like my favorite
super hero, Eggplant Man. Um… never mind. Erase this one.
Besides, I can’t find my flashlight.
#X)
It seems that every year, all I really want to improve is my view of
the TV. Please move a little more to the east while we’re
binge-watching Vikings or other any of those other outer space
adventure series.
U*)
After much consideration, I’ve decided to finally come to terms with
my new illness: Serial Compulsive Recreational Insect Preparatory
Tasting (S.C.R.I.P.T.) Disorder. Yes, Preparatory Tasting… all I
wanted to do was find out what an insect tastes like before I decide
whether to harvest them for our next social gathering. I’ve learned
the hard way that most bugs simply are not delicious, and many object
to being tasted. For example, stinkbugs secrete a very nasty bad
smell ocka pitoo when being being touched by my tasting tongue. And
bees and wasps… well, forget about it!! I’m seeking treatment; but
each time I visit the S.C.R.I.P.T doctor I have to wait for 12
minutes for her to stop laughing.
And
finally…
1!)
My real New
Year’s Revolution is always pretty much the same: try
to do better.
Lord knows I still have much to learn, and I truly hope I can remain
teachable in this fascinating journey of uncertainty we call Life.
In
the meantime, I’d like to wish you all a Very Happy New Year, and may
all your nostrils be free of obstructions; especially when you’re
sniffing the delicious lasagna I’ll be making on New Year’s Day.