As some of you who are reading this are aware, getting old is not for wimps. I’ve enjoyed 66 trips around the Sun on this globe we call Earth. My brain is pretty much convinced I’m still a young pup, then I go do something silly and try a spontaneous sprint. The result: a pulled calf muscle. OW that hurts!! This was never an issue when I was, oh… like maybe 30. But now if I choose to exert a burst of energy, I better do some stretching first or suffer the ouchy-wouchies.

And that’s just one example.

Fortunately, I somehow was blessed with pretty good eyeballs. Corrective lenses only became needed in my late 40s; and then all I really needed was some +1.00 readers. Used those for many years, and then I started needing stronger ones. When I went for an exam, I was told twice now that I “have an onset of cataracts,” but nothing requiring any action. I was also told “you passed the driver’s test without glasses.” Yet when I went to renew my license a few years ago, they said I needed glasses. That’s a bit confusing, but I just use readers (I’m up to +2.50 now) and all is good.

My Beautiful Girlfriend had cataract surgery a while back. She was offered a choice to either have good long range vision and only need reading glasses for close-up stuff, or no glasses for near but corrective lenses for distant vision. The choice was pretty obvious to her; and after some 60 years of nearsightedness she can now see stars like never before.

Over the years, I’ve built up a collection of reading glasses of various strengths. Still have most of them, and there are some favorite “John Lennon” style wire frames that I use for cooking special meals, even though a stronger pair might work better. It’s a spiritual thing I guess; if that makes any sense. I have glasses that come in two-part metal tubes. I keep a pair of those in my pocket when I’m in the garden. Nice because they don’t get smooshed, and I don’t worry about dropping them in the dirt. Of course I’ve also acquired several pair with cases that clip into a shirt pocket. Those really flashed the “computer geek” fashion statement while I was working. Although my Honey Pie could easily use one of my many pairs of readers, she has built up a collection of her own. I guess mine weren’t girly enough (duh).

These days, it’s possible we have 729 pairs of reading glasses between us. Some are kept in the car, some in the bathroom, some in the kitchen, some in the bedroom. So what happens when either of us tries to read a soup label or something? An exclamation is repeated over and over: “where the HECK are my glasses??” Often, this is answered in the same breath with a sighing, “oh there they are!!”

Regardless of the fact that we always know a pair is near (somewhere), one of us inevitably picks up a bill or prescription or something and squints almost painfully while barely making out the words. Then the other will say, “Honey!! Why don’t you grab your glasses??” Oh, and not to forget the frantic scramble to grab a document or something while on the phone with the doctor’s office and then muttering, “where the bleep!! are my blankety-blank glasses??” and hoping the nice person who called didn’t hear.

Got some pretty big chuckles the other day when was trying to read with a pair of cheap wire-rims. I thought one of my eyes was going bad, only to discover one of the lenses had fallen out of the frame. After finding the missing lens I howled with laughter. Then later I noticed my computer glasses were not working too well. That’s because they are +1.75, but now I’m better with +2.50. Sheesh!!

Yes, it’s a glasses menagerie around here! There are times, though, when I can’t help but amuse myself while hunting for glasses. I do some Three Stooges dialog out loud: “I can’t see!! I can’t see!!” “Whats the matter??” “I got my eyes closed!!”

On the other hand, you have the looking glass…

Because I was born before The Beatles came to America on the Mayflower, I’m becoming painfully aware of something: I’m getting OLD!! Well, my body is anyway. My mind still thinks I’m young. In fact, I’ve been told by people much younger than me that I “don’t act like an old person.” I tell my friends that I’m a child in old man’s clothing. Then I pass a mirror; and if I dare to look, the truth slaps me in the head. I think to myself (sometimes out loud), “hey Mister!! What the HECK did you do with the young guy that used to live in there??”

Oh what the heck. This is me, wrinkles, receding hairline, and all. I don’t much care about how youthful I look anymore. Why should I? Not like I’m on the prowl for a mate or anything. I’ve been blessed: my soulmate is a Beautiful Young Woman (she’s a whole 3 months younger than me). We met when we were 17 year old kids and are still best friends. Nope… what you see is what you get with the likes of me. And as my Beautiful Girlfriend has been fond of saying lately, “better to be seen than to be viewed.”

I’ve also been told that this getting old crap is not for sissies. Ain’t that the truth!! This stuff can be painful!! Remember that statement about my brain thinking I’m a youngster?? Well that can cause problems when I try to do anything that involves physical effort. Sure, I can do pretty much everything I’ve always done over the years; but sometimes it takes longer, and other times it hurts. Even getting out of bed can produce very annoying SNAP!! CRACKLE!! POP!! noises those Kellogg’s Rice Crispies commercials touted back in the day.

Thankfully, my eyes seem to be “hangin’ in,” as Aunt Joyce used to say. Just before retirement I went to the eye doctor for a checkup, and I was told I passed the driver’s test without glasses. He also mentioned an onset of cataracts, “but no need to do anything about it.” Same diagnosis as my last exam which I think was about 4 years ago. I use readers to compensate for aging lenses inside my 66 year old eyeballs; but otherwise I see pretty well. Or at least I thought I did, until two days ago.

I woke up the other day and put my glasses on to read while in the… um… library (bathroom). Weird… my right eye was seeing strangely fuzzy text. I took off my wire frame glasses, rubbed my eyes a bit, put them back on and resumed reading. Still a little fuzzy. After breakfast I opened my laptop and started reading some e-mails. “What’s up with this right eye??” I wondered to myself. Went in the bathroom and doused both eyes with eye drops. Put the glasses back on. Seemed a little better… oh wait… nope!! Still fuzzy.

Now I’m getting a bit frightened.

Took the glasses off again, this time soaked a washcloth in very hot water and applied the hot compress to my eye; hoping this method could dissolve whatever this film might be. Put the glasses back on… Nope!! Now I’m getting scared. I sought out my Honey Pie (glasses still on). “She’s a nurse,” I told myself, “she’ll notice if something is wrong.” “Honey!!” I pleaded. “Can you look at my right eye and tell me if it looks OK?” She gazed carefully… “No, I don’t see any film or anything.” She did mention maybe I had an indentation on one side of my eyeball, but seems like I clunked myself there many moons ago. But I was primarily getting upset about my vision.

My magnifying mind started wondering if I had some sort of obscure stroke; or how I should type out a search string on the interwebs to figure out what the heck the deal was. Off I went to the bedroom for something (who knows why). There on my nightstand was a lens from a pair of glasses. MY pair of glasses. The ones I was wearing!! The instant I saw this lens, all I could do was laughed very hard.

So my friends, as you can see, this getting old stuff ain’t for sissies. And it seems that no matter how old I get, some of the terrible things that plague my existence are completely imagined by my magnifying mind. The miracle for today is: I CAN SEE!! It’s AMAZING!! And I can laugh about it.

Life is good.

When I grow up, I wanna be like Grampy….

Wow… what a difference a week makes!! Last week I was merrily hopping around, hugging all my friends, shaking hands, enjoying life, the universe, and everything. This week, I still merrily hop around, and I still enjoy life, the universe, and everything; but no more hugging or shaking hands. For those I hug, I’m switching to the following procedure: I look the person in the eyes, smile, and say “I Love You.” Same as a hug really…

Well, almost.

I work in a factory, and thankfully we have a big shrink wrap machine. So for my own protection I’ll be getting shrink wrapped every day for the next few weeks. I’ll put drinking straws in my nostrils so I can breathe, and just hop around like that. For safety you see. I’m not quite sure what I’ll do when I need to go to the bathroom. Oh, and eating lunch might be a challenge. Holy Carp!! I’ll need my hands to work!! So I guess no, I probably shouldn’t do the shrink wrap thing.

I consider myself a pretty healthy guy. You know, a strong immune system and such. However, the facts are very convincing. I’m getting older now, and I could become very ill if I get this virus. But even if I get just a mild case, or don’t get infected at all, I have to be very wary and stay germ free for the sake of my Beautiful Girlfriend so she doesn’t get sick. And I sure don’t want to inadvertently pass a bug to someone else who has a family member that could suffer badly from COVID-19. I’ll admit I was not eager to stop hugging; nor to avoid gatherings. But this really does need to be taken very seriously. We all just need to work together and change how we interact with each other so we can slow this stupid virus down. All the guidelines are being blasted into our eyes and ears in the form of TV and radio news reports; and of course all the internet is roaring with stories.

We just need to help each other get through this. I’ll sure I’ll be fine… I’m spoiled rotten. I’m very grateful that I have income, plenty of food, and no debt. I am blessed with enough that I was able to donate some bucks to our local rescue mission this week. I consider that to be the very least I can do. Many folks are not nearly as fortunate as me. I pray for them often, and I’ve been praying for them even more often lately.

My friends, if you see me out and about, it’s probably because I need groceries and so on. My Lovely Bride and I are laying low to avoid direct contact with people as much as possible, until otherwise directed. If you normally get a hug from me, I hope you’ll understand when I keep some distance and say “I Love You” instead. And of course, I refuse to stop being silly. I’ll continue to post very silly things on Facebook in an effort to help people smile. I will also be using a strange type of technology called a telephone to check in on friends from time to time. We have one of those weird landline things that has an ancient device known as “The Answering Machine.” If you know our home number, be prepared; I plan to change the greeting often for your amusement (it’s possible I have a little fun with my recordings).

We can get through this. If we all do what’s recommended; things will improve. But I must say, nobody told me there’d be days like these!!

I work in a factory, which of course is the spawn of a corporate universe. Most corporations expect people to behave in a professional manner at all times. I’ve been in the military and very much understand how to conduct myself in a professional manner. I get the opportunity to “practice” this often at work; but I also frequently encounter the folks who actually perform tasks that produce a product, like running machines, etc. These are the folks, in my professional opinion, who are the most valuable part of any corporation. Many of them are not very happy these days… these are uncertain times.

Those who know me are very aware that I’m a WYSIWYG kind of guy. WYSIWYG is an acronym that’s not seen much these days. The term dates back to the 1970s, when dinosaurs roamed the earth; and it stands for What You See Is What You Get. And what you get with me can be rather silly at times; and the workplace is no exception.

 I understand that work is work, and that clowning is a different profession than the work stuff for which I get paid. However, we recently enjoyed a requirement to wear safety shoes in the factory; and mine have a big black outline where the toes are. I affectionately call them “clown shoes;” because that’s what they look like to me.

Clown shoes notwithstanding, I’m kinda hooked on spreading a smile around when I can… nothing smutty mind you.  Just funny stuff.  This seems especially pertinent these days, with so much sadness in the world. On top of all that, my cohorts are stressed about working for a company that too often doesn’t exactly leave one feeling warm and fuzzy inside the nasal passages (or any other vegetable operated pencil sharpener).

I’ve been a bit loony ever since I can remember, and it just doesn’t seem to fade with old age. Perhaps I’ll make strange faces at people while I’m walking… just to break the monotony. Oh yes, and I also know how to walk in a silly manner. And then there are times I find myself singing loudly at work, because it’s already loud there anyway. Often I’ll sing for the mere pleasure of it, maybe whistle or hum a tune. Other times, however, my coworkers give me funny looks because I’m singing Tarzan yodels or maybe some mock operatic rendition like, “FEE GAAA RO!”

My friends in the factory work tons of overtime, so I try to help them smile even about that situation. Here’s a conversation I had just today with a friend, that illustrates my amplified toast hammer encryption:

“You workin’ this weekend?” I asked.

“Yeah,” was the subdued response.

“Sunday too?” I quizzed.

“Yeah, catch up on bills,” she said, and of course I went for it: “Ketchup on bills??” I joked. “Why would you put ketchup on bills?? Doesn’t make them taste any better does it??”

She giggled a little. Mission accomplished.

It could also be possible that I use our instant messaging system to greet friends with spiritually uplifting verse such as:

The break room is closed for today, they’re changing the bearings in the trash compactor and they don’t want anyone to upset the ballast softeners.

Or…

I’ve decided not to brush my teeth with Vaseline any longer. It frightens the chimney.

And also…

If you don’t start applying sticky labels to your eyebrows you’ll never get to enjoy “Sticky Paper Face Happiness.”

Of course, there are times when I discuss the status quo with my fellow workers; and we commiserate about the sadness we see around us. That’s when I veer off topic and say something truly diabolical like, “I just need to just stay grateful. The pay is decent, it’s close to home, and the benefits are OK. Plus, we have wonderful friendships here.” When the realities of work and the world get me down, I just cling to that childlike notion that in spite of all our troubles, I’m very fortunate to be alive and reasonably healthy.

I’m too proud to be a bum, too chicken to be a criminal, so I work for a living. Might as well have fun while doing it!! I’m definitely still a child. I’m just an old one. Now, would you like me to get out my portable Cook-A-Ma-Thing and fry you up some chicken weed? No?? Well that’s good, because I have no idea what chicken weed is.

So there.

Maybe part of the reason I’m so fond of silly stuff is because I grew up watching cartoons like this…

Today was the Lovely and Marvelous holiday, Valentine’s Day. Believe it or don’t, I was actually prepared for this in advance!! Even got my “Girlfriend” card a couple weeks ago!! And yes, even though I’m married, I’m fortunate enough to be married to my Beautiful Girlfriend, whom I’ve been dating for 48 years as of this May 19!! Is that amazing or what?? And guess what? We still like each other! A lot even!! This is a very marvelous thing. We’re actually getting pretty good at this sweetheart stuff. Some of our “secrets” to a long and happy relationship are:

1. We tell each other “I love you” at least once a day. Usually more.
2. I often remind her that she’s the most beautiful woman in the universe, because it’s true (all other women are the second most beautiful).
3. We kiss. Often. (I kissed a girl and I liked it.)
4. We make regular use of the magic words Please and Thank You.
5. We are best friends and treat each other that way.

Well there are probably a few thousand more reasons but I’ll just quit there. This year, she wanted to prevent me from spending $40 on flowers that are dead in less than a week. “No flowers this year, OK??” she beseeched me over the weekend. So I found a nice lily plant at the store with many buds, but no flowers (yet). After that, I went out to the woods with my chainsaw to bag the traditional Valentine Tree, then Mom and I will set it up in the living room and decorate it with the annual collection of Toilet Paper Ornaments, and the battery powered Monkey Lights.

My lovely sweetheart loves to deck the halls for every holiday, and Valentine’s Day is no exception. In addition to cupid knickknacks, valentine’s bears, frogs, unicorns or whatever else she finds cute, there are plaques with mooshy “Be Mine” sayings all over the house. When the kids were still at home, Valentine’s Day was very similar to Christmas in February. And of course Valentine Toys and Sugarcard Plumswere carefully placed under the Valentine Tree and then the whole family held hands to sing the ancient Valentide Carol:

(Sung to the Tune of My Darling Clementine)

Oh my darlin’, oh my darlin’, oh my DAARRLIN’ Valentine,

You are soft and very lovely, such a hottie, Valentine.

In the market, in the card store, I will find something so fine,

That my babe will want to smooch me, just because it’s Valentine’s.

Oh my darlin’, oh my darlin’ oh my DAARRLIN’ Valentine,

You smell nice and have nice curvings, give me sugar, Valentine.

In the bathroom, on the mirror, decorAAtions make me smile,

Cuz my baby puts ’em up there and they’ll stay there for awhile.

Oh my darlin’, oh my darlin’, oh my DAARLIN’ Valentine,

Please don’t leave them up till Easter, yes I love you, Valentine.

Well OK maybe we didn’t really have a Valentine’s tree… and maybe I just made up the song too.

After all the jubilation, we all sit down for a traditional Valentine’s Dinner of barbequed spare ribs, taters, maybe some salad, and of course some fake bubbly (sparkling juice).   Dinner was followed by Valentine belching, general good conversation, and the exchange of Valentine gifts and cards.     Following dinner was the traditional Valentine’s Day herding of the kids into their beds. 

Nudge-nudge, wink-wink!!

The kids have been out on their own for some time now, so it was just my Honey Pie and me having dinner. I splurged and bought some scallops and shrimp, and sauteed with them veggies and mushrooms that we had over rice. YUMMMM.

Then we watched a very romantic biography of Edgar Allen Poe on PBS while enjoying fancy chocolate and sparkling juice. Well OK, maybe Edgar Allen Poe wasn’t so romantic. But my employer gives us Presidents Day off, so for this 3 day weekend I have some grandiose romance plans. It may be just a simple sign of affection, when I’ll jump out to greet her with my “special pajamas” when she least expects it.

Nudge-nudge, wink-wink!! Know what I mean??

When my Beautiful Girlfriend and I were kids, Batman and Robin were busy chasing bad guys each week on TV. The show ran from 1966 to 1968; and some of the more memorable lines came from Robin, when he would exclaim, “Holy Luther Burbank!!” or other strange lines. Why am I writing this? Well I was pondering how quickly time passes. I mean hey, our oldest grandson turned 11 this year. His younger brother will be 7 soon. This is really amazing. It sure seems like it was just the day before yesterday I was changing diapers for a young girl who grew up to be their mommy!!

As frogs like to say, “Time’s fun when you’re having flies!!” Robin might have said something different to Batman way back when, like maybe “Holy Time Zooming, Batman!!”

Seems like parenthood is a gigantic time thief. Or maybe that’s just what happen

s when we get older. I mean, when we kids, it seemed like it would be forever for adulthood to arrive. Nowadays I’d love to throw out an anchor or something and make things slow down a bit. So we became parents, then grandparents, and now it seems that time just zips along at breakneck speed. We got married when we were 19, which I thought was a few years ago. Then I did the math… 46 years and counting!!

Sheesh!!

Don’t get me wrong, we treasure each day we are on the planet. We kinda like it here! But as one of our friends put it, we have “more time in back of us and less time in front of us.” For the most part, we’re not worried about what comes next; we’re both convinced that cool stuff awaits us in the Great Beyond. But hey, let’s not rush things. We’re here now and loving life. It’s just that Holy Cow, we’re grandparents!!

I mean hey, I remember vividly when the Beatles first came to America on the Mayflower! Or something… Anyway, I clearly remember sitting in my grandparents’ apartment in Brooklyn, NY when I was 10. My 8 transistor radio was glued to my ear while the Fab Four disembarked at JFK airport; with all the media of the day interviewing them every step of the way through the crowd of screaming fans. I even jokingly mentioned, “Hey Dad!! The Beatles just landed at JFK! We could go over there to see ‘em!!” “Yeah right!!” he retorted.

One cool thing about being a grandpa is that you get to reflect on all the changes that have happened over the years. Life is exactly the same only completely different these days. With technology alone, things have changed just a wee bit.

Picture this, kiddies. When I was born in 1954, commercial TV had only been rockin’ for about 13 years. Most stuff on TV was live broadcasts. If you had the TV on too early, you’d see a test pattern. If you had it on too late, you’d see a flag waving in the breeze while the national anthem was playing just prior to the station shutting down for the night. There were still dramas and comedies being made for radio. And when you turned on either a radio or a TV, you had to wait a few minutes for them to warm up. Took several minutes for the tubes and their associated circuitry to stabilize. Tubes?? Say what?? Yes, tubes. And even after the radio or TV warmed up you had to mess with the fine tuning to keep your signals coming in clearly. When you dialed a phone, you literally used a dial on the phone. None of the phones took batteries in those days. No fancy ring tones, just a bell. I know that some of you readers out there can outdo me on the dinosaur technology memories; but you get my drift.

Now back to the present day. I’ve noticed some “black holes” where a time warp knocks me in the head when I least expect it. For example: I scurry to get ready for work in the morning. Most of this zaniness is self inflicted, because I sleep till the last minute and then play fireman to get ready for the hour long commute. We heat with sticks (we have wood heat), so it’s my job to get the fires going. One is downstairs in the old part of the house, one upstairs in the addition. I start the furnace downstairs and then grab an armload of wood to offer the wood eater upstairs of course.

Next, I yank open the fridge and grab my lunch; shove it into that delightful Old Navy bag with the Hawaiian lady on the front and the cloth drawstring (our daughter bought me the bag years ago so I would quit killing trees from using paper bags. She loves Old Navy but didn’t really notice the hula girl design till several years later.).

Pour the coffee into the travel mug, grab the cell phone, and head for the garage at precisely 7:00 AM. Get my lunch bucket situated, maybe plug the smell phone into the charger, come around to the driver’s seat and turn on the car.

NOW THE CLOCK SAYS 7:08 AM FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. There is NO WAY it takes me 8 minutes to walk from my back door to the garage. As Robin might have said, “Holy Time Warp, Batman!!” And yes, the car’s clock is correct; just like the clock inside. I’m pretty diligent about that.

If you are old enough to remember the Rocky Horror Picture Show… I mean really remember, meaning you were old enough to enjoy it when it first came on the scene… well then you and I really are in a time warp. Aren’t we?

Don’t believe any of this time warp nonsense? Well all I can say is: I bet you don’t have kids.

You’ll see…

I may have accidentally announced my plans to retire in March of this year. That’s only a few milliseconds away!! That’s what happens when you get older… instead of days, months, and years, your life begins to zoom around in milliseconds. For example, our oldest grandson was born 11 milliseconds (years) ago this month!!! How can this be??? Yes, I understand very well that frogs lke to say that “time’s fun when you’re having flies.” Still, this time zoom is a very harsh reality for gentle people like us.

So what was I talking about again?? Oh yeah, retirement. Yes. I’m gonna retire soon. And lots of folks are asking, “whatchya gonna do?? Any plans??” That’s when I mention that I’d maybe like to sell some of my writings to various publications. Then I get this puzzled look, very similar to when a dog tilts its head toward the stereo speakers because it hears something weird from a Pink Floyd song. “Well,” I explain, “when I was laid off back in ’92, I worked for a small newspaper for a while. Didn’t pay much but I had lots of fun. I was thinking about switching careers from technology to writing, but it became obvious that my family would have to survive on beans and rice for a long time before I got established.’”

Nice dream though.

I have other grandiose plans too, which I believe will (not) be much more successful. Here are some that I’m completely (un)certain will produce great wealth and fiddle dee dee:

1 – Gotta take all those soda bottles and cans back and collect the deposit. Maybe I’ll wait till summer and take my bicycle… pick up more along the way!! As my wife likes to say, “ten cents is ten cents!!”

L – I thought about selling my body to science, but then I learned that you have to be dead first. I’m not sure how I would be able to spend all the money I receive when I’m dead, unless I can figure out a way to be dead while I’m alive. I’ll have to noodle on that one a bit.

9 – When friends come to visit, I’ll stage some impromptu “living auctions.” That’s a term I just made up which entails selling household items to the highest bidder during meals. This activity will not only fatten my wallet but will also give my friends the unique opportunity to own some of the most collectible West Michigan artifacts (many of which are actually made in China).

G – Two words: Used Food. So simple, right?? I saw this referenced on what seemed to be a very nicely maintained truck, so the market for used food must be very strong. On the back of this rather attractive vehicle was a nice slogan in large print: “Dealers In Used Food.” Must be a hot deal because the truck belonged to what appeared to be a rather successful septic service company. So like, these guys are making money on food after it’s been eaten!! Pure genius.

26 – I’ll become a quick change artist. “Hey buddy, you got two tens for a five??”

and finally (for now):

4K – I’ll bottle up some of our fresh country air and sell it to city slickers. With all the pollution controls being abandoned these days, this idea just might take off.

Anyway, one thing I think I’ll really do during retirement is have more Cake.

I really like Cake.

There are times when I’m just a bit groggy when I wake up in the morning. OK, there are lots of times. That’s part of why we have an automatic coffee maker; so the brew is hot and ready when we drag our hineys out of bed. Hey, you know how the old song goes: “Waking Up Is Hard To Do.” What? That’s not the song?? Oh fine.

Whatever…

Anyway, there I was last Sunday morning, minding my own business, pouring coffee from the pot into my travel cup. Since my Honey Pie was awake, I poured her some too. No problem, right? Good. Now it’s time for some honey… mmmm stir it up nicely. OK, now the cream. So I get the half & half out of the fridge, unscrew the cap, and KNOCK THE STUPID THING OVER, AND NOW THERE’S CREAM EVERYWHERE, AND I QUICKLY STAND THE CARTON BACK UP BUT NOT TILL AFTER CREAM HAS FLOWN ALL OVER THE KITCHEN FLOOR, AND SPLATTERED THE CABINETS, AT WHICH TIME I MAY HAVE UTTERED SOME VERY VULGAR EXCLAMATIONS, but my Beautiful Girlfriend (she let me marry her some years ago) was happy (and perhaps even amazed) that I did not get completely angry or kick the oven or roll around on the floor foaming at the mouth and shaking and screaming; but instead I got an old towel we use as a rag and cleaned up my boo boo and then got another old towel to use as a wet mop to prevent a sticky mess and HOLY MOLY THIS ALL BECAME THE FODDER FOR A RUN-ON SENTENCE WITH AN OVER USE OF CAPITAL LETTERS.

Sheesh… what a klutz, ya know??

Monday, thankfully, was uneventful in the coffee universe. I was very grateful that I was actually able to get my morning cup with no coffee kaboom. My Lovely Bride doesn’t work Monday mornings, so she was unable to enjoy this calm coffee procurement occurrence. Since I made a full pot, I put the rest in our insulated carafe for later. My Sweetie got hers when she awoke, but there was a bit left over. We’ll often leave the previous day’s leftovers in the carafe, then pour it into the pot to top it off and let it heat again after we get our java. Saves a few pennies, ya know?

Then came Tuesday, a workday for the both of us. We shuffle into the kitchen, and I pour coffee into our cups with no incident. Yet. Then I get the carafe, and give the top just a couple turns (or so I thought) to pour Monday’s leftovers into the pot for reheating. I even joked a little, “let’s see if I can successfully pour this leftover coffee into the pot.” I open the lid of the pot, tip the carafe, and WHAM!! The stupid top falls off and goes PLOP!! in the waiting pot, making coffee fly all over the place. This caused instant giggling from both of us. I mean, what else could we do?? It was too funny. And it was also much easier to clean up than cream.

So yes, my name is Ken and I’m a KLUTZ. Not only am I like a bull in the coffee shop (we have no china shops nearby), but I also like to walk into furniture. But when I clunk the couch or whatever, I do say “excuse me.” I also enjoy knocking things down off of shelves when reaching for stuff. It’s a very exciting adventure, this klutz-o-rama business.

Therefore, if you invite me to your home, please map out a specific area in which I may walk. Might be a good idea to move any expensive breakables to a safe location also. And if you are silly enough to ask to pour coffee (or any other beverage), all I can say is, hey, I warned you.

Don’t think I’d do very well in the kitchen with these guys…

The 6 O’clock news was all abuzz about a Winter Storm Warning for these parts. Sounds like we’re gonna get rain, then snow, then ice, then snow, then more ice, then tree stumps will be hiding in people’s garages while alligators rise from the compost in an attempt to bang out some heavy metal rock ‘n roll on the garden fence while Cheeba The Parsnip Queen shoots lightning out of her nose and Thundersnow out of her navel. Big Storm. Really Big. Size Large. Holy Moly.

Or maybe we’re just gonna have a storm; and the weather man says “numerous power outages possible.” Well I showed them guys; I did something truly radical this time. I actually went outside, gassed up the generator, and even started it up and everything!! This is unusual for me. Last time we had a big storm, I could not for the life of me get the generator started. That’s because I goofed in some pretty big ways:

1 – I put regular 87 octane gas in the tank. Then I learned that such fuel degrades after as little as 3 months!! Oh, and

R – Although I started the generator… um… maybe a year before, I didn’t turn the fuel valve off so the carburetor could drain. That gave the 87 octane gas plenty of time to gunk up the carburetor so badly it had to be replaced.

Well I got the generator fixed up last year and I’ve been diligently starting it up every few weeks. Even started it successfully this evening and got some extra gas.

Then I did really silly things like fill 5 gallon containers with water, and put our phones and flashlights (yes, flashlights) on the chargers. My Beautiful Girlfriend asked, “do we need to get some groceries??” “No,” I replied, “we have plenty of food.” Of course if we lose power, our electric stove is don’t working no any more; we’ll have to drag out the camp stove. So OK Mother Nature, do your worst. On second thought, please don’t!! Here’s hoping we don’t lose power. But if we do, we’re pretty much ready.

As I’m thinking (and writing) about all this, I’m reminded that all of what I just mentioned are truly high class problems. In other words, at our house there is much for which to be grateful, and we often verbalize this; especially if we sit down to watch the local and world news. A friend of ours likes to say, “ 90% of the world would probably love to trade problems with me.”

Ain’t that the truth.

Well if the storm’s a-comin’ by youse kids, try to be prepared; and above all be safe.

Try not to get caught in the storm like these characters…