Kakahead

Dear Antenna Ranchers,

I found it necessary to let you all know that I am on vacation tomorrow, and you are not.  Unless you are, then you are also.

On vacation.

Have I mentioned I’m not working tomorrow??  Oh wait… I’m writing this thing called Happy Friday.  So that means it’s today already!!  Which means:  I’m on vacation!!  And you are not.  Unless you are.  On vacation.

Deja Vu…

Ha ha on you who must work, I laugh to you.   I bet your toenails are shivering at the thought of working for the next many days.  This is very amusing to me indeed.

I plan to spend the day doing things that I do not get paid to do.  This is why it is called vacation.  Although it won’t happen THIS time, some of my favorite things to do are playing in the garden, sleeping longer than normal and maybe even forgetting how to shave my cat’s teddy bear baskets.  The garden must be carefully tilled with explosives and high pressure syrup hoses.  Following that, I methodically mix all my veggie seeds together in a large five gallon bucket and fling them into the syrup explosion zones.  Pancakes will be sprouting before June 48 if we don’t get any rain…

We are driving to Florida this time, which is many hours on our hineys in a small car we affectionately call, “Old Rattlebonken.”  We go to visit family, no Mickety Mouse for the likes of us (Thank God).  The most important thing is I will be with my loved ones and not at work.

On the other hand, I just ate a grape from Meijer that tasted like fish.  I never knew they had fish grapes.  Now I must try my hand at making fish raisins or maybe one of YOU could send me the recipe for fish wine. If I recall correctly, there are stories of a very famous person who could convert bread into water and fish into wine.  So as you can see, fish wine is not a new concept.

However, regardless of how much fish wine you may care to produce, I will not be having any with your breaded water meal.  I am a recovering fishaholic, so it might not be a very good idea for me to start drinking fish again.  I’ll just have to enjoy the fish raisins, or maybe peanut butter and fish jelly sandwiches with a glass of coconut milk.

How many moles does it take to get a jar of molasses??  Those poor moles, running around with no hineys.  They are brave to sacrifice their booty just so we can have our jars of molasses.  Not sure why we civilized people even allow jars of molasses to be sold in stores.  I mean, do you ever see jars of mouseknees, cricketlips, or even seagullstomachs??  Nope.  Just molasses.

Dinner for every day during this vacation will be pizza and Snickers bars.  Freshly squeezed fish grapes will be served up as a nice hot beverage with a dollop of whipped crab juice on the side.  No farmers will be harmed in this extravaganza.  It’s very possible I need a vacation.

Please have a safe and odiferous working time.  Are you on vacation?  No, you are not.

ME, not YOU.

My eyes have suddenly turned into olives!!!

Conko De Bonko,

Kenny Calibration
a.k.a. “Fossil Tongue Pete”



Listen… do you smell something?  I detect air most foul, with sadness and hardship springing therefrom.  O woe are we who toil all our lives; reaping not much for ourselves but yea our labours doth weave silver and gold fabrics for our masters.  Our reward is to toil yet another day.  And lo, toil we must; lest we be cast off.   And if we no longer fulfill The Purpose, we shall be cast off anyhow.

For we are the worker ants, and they are the Anteaters.

Say what?

OK I’ll quit speaking in code.  Our economy is supposedly in a recovery of sorts, but it’s difficult to convince all the millions of unemployed.   Here in Michigan, we seem to have an extra helping of job loss.  Isn’t that special?   We’re experiencing quite a bit of change; and unfortunately that means that companies are restructuring or even going out of business.  Manufacturing still exists here, and with the advent of alternative energy innovations, new opportunities are on the horizon.  However, they are slow in coming; and in the meantime many are faced with losing their jobs or at the very least working for less money and trimmed down benefits.

Recently, the folks where I work were called into a meeting and given some details of an upcoming reorganization.   Between 65 and 80 people will lose their jobs; and more may follow later.  Other meetings were scheduled but a “verbal threat of violence” was uttered and those meetings were postponed.   Mind you, none of the particulars of the meeting came as any surprise to us.  We all knew business was bad and that changes were likely.  That doesn’t take the sting out of it.  And conversely, tough times are not an excuse for making threats or being abusive.   It doesn’t make such behavior OK, but fear makes icky, and icky makes people react in ways they normally would not.

A bit of a Déjà vu for me; I’ve been laid off before.  It wasn’t the end of the world, but it wasn’t exactly the easiest eight months I had to deal with either.  I had the gamut of emotions:  sadness, depression, apathy, anger.  Fortunately for me I also surrounded myself with positive people; who cheered me on and helped me through it.  And I know it sounds corny, but I learned that I really did have Someone Upstairs looking out for me (when I let Them).  In other words, with a little help from my friends I managed to connect to my God and received an inner peace that told me I would get through it.

Because I’ve “been there, done that,”  I have been trying to be upbeat and think out loud to my friends and coworkers.  I say really silly things like, “my wife is a nurse and works with quadruplegics.  We don’t have such problems… things could be much worse.”  Or else maybe I’ll bring up the fact that “everyone here is talented, we just need to learn how to translate that into a good resume.”  Doesn’t seem to help much.  When I was laid off, I was told that I needed to draw upon my strengths in order to “make myself marketable.”  At first, that seemed a rather disgusting notion.  “After all these years, THIS is how I get treated?”  I thought to myself.  Many of the folks who will lose their jobs have never worked anywhere else.  I can only imagine how they feel.

I can’t seem to find my magic wand; so to my dismay I won’t be able to fix our sick economy.  Nor will I be able to change the age-old system of the haves vs. the have-nots.  Rich people are in control.  The rich stay rich, the poor become more numerous, and we worker ants get to pay for it all.  Although it seems like complete information bombardment, the media are keeping us in the know like never before.  So, with a little luck and some persistence, maybe we can work together and effect some change for the better.

It takes effort and awareness, but I believe we all have a duty to be ever vigilant and speak out where we smell foul air.  I’ve said it before:  the strongest vote we have is how (and where) we spend our money.  Rich people need to be held accountable for the kind of businesses they run.  Face it, if it were not for US spending OUR money, they wouldn’t be rich.  Pretty sad state of affairs when we have more millionaires than ever but food banks can barely keep up with the need.  As Dr. Seuess’s character The Lorax said, “but business is business and business must grow, regardless of crummies in tummies you know.”

A few months ago one of the marketing guys (who is several years younger than me) told me, “you know, anyone who thinks the CEO doesn’t care about our jobs is just wrong.”

It only took me a microsecond to respond:  “It’s kinda like when the mafia does a hit on your brother.  It’s nothing personal, just business.”

Nobody told me there’d be days like these…

Ah yes, I remember it well.  Way back in October of nineteen hundred and sixty two, Columbus sailed the oceans blue.  Of course any schoolchild can remember the three ships he used to discover Atlanta:  the Nina, the Pinta, and the Sacagawea.  Having finally been discovered, the residents of Atlanta rejoiced with great happiness and had cause for wildly joyous celebration.  It was at this time Coca Cola was invented by mixing wonderfully flavorful ingredients with the melting snows of March just before the eve of St. Patrick’s Day.  Then of course the Vikings came from Minnesota and conquered everyone involved by kabonking them on the noggins with their footballs.

Perhaps I am a little less than accurate with my history, but if you don’t believe me the burden of proof is on YOU!!  HAHAHA!!  So THERE!

Seriously folks, I just flew in from the coast, and boy are my arms tired.  Doctor!!  It hurts when I do this!  (DON’T DO THAT!!)

Anyway, you see, it’s like this:  Dad was 100% Norwegian (a Viking).  Mom’s father was straight from Ireland.  Her mom was Austro-Hungarian, which means absolutely nothing to today’s schoolchildren.  Anyway, Mom used to celebrate St. Patty’s Day like any good Catholic should.  We each had to wear something green, had to say “Erin go bragh” at least once on the special day, and ate corned beef and cabbage.  St. Patty’s Day was kinda fun, and it also meant something very important:  spring and of course the Easter Bunny were right around the corner.  Life as a kid was simple, everything had a very brief explanation, and you were cool with it.  And as a kid growing up on Long Island, New York I hung out with lots of Irish kids.  We were not only good friends, we even had some physical traits in common:  freckles for example.  I had lots, they had lots.  They had red hair.  I had really blonde hair as kid which turned reddish brown as I got older.

So then I made a big mistake:  I grew up. Am I a ninny or what??  I did what so many others did while growing up, I sought answers.  I did crazy and exotic things like watch public TV.  And there on Nova or something was this history of the Vikings.  Those crazy guys were the gang members of yesteryear, and they terrorized much of Europe and beyond.  And I learned that of one of their favorite hangouts was:  Ireland.  No big deal, right??  WRONG!!! It yanked the innocence carpet right out from under me.  From what the historians had to say, the Irish never really had freckles or red hair until the Vikings came a-conquering and started messing with their gene pool.  All that raping and pillaging left its mark..

OK so like, what’s the big deal??  Well I’ll tell ya, it spoiled St. Patty’s Day for me, awright??  Vikings on my Dad’s side and Irish on my Mom’s side.  Hmmm…. According to history, my ancestors raped and pillaged my ancestors!!  Gack!!  I hope they have apologized over the years.  I don’t want to get in the middle of any dueling banjo family feud stuff.  Or would that be reindeer antler / shileleagh fights??  Heck, I don’t know.  What I do know is that no matter how much I try, I’m still not really fond of corned beef and cabbage.  And since I’m allergic to alcoholic beverages (they make me break out in traffic violations) (among other things) (you wouldn’t want to go there, trust me) (OK enough with the parentheses already), as I said since I’m allergic to alcoholic beverages, I won’t be drinking any green beer.  Heck even when I was a drinker, green beer never really sounded yummy to me.

I truly hope all the Irish enjoy their upcoming holiday.  All of my silly bantering cannot take anything away from the importance of St. Patrick to his country and its wonderful people.  Those who know me understand that I’m pretty much full of cabbage soup (or something) much of the time.  If I have offended anyone please allow me to invite you over and I’ll try to make nice… we can sit by the fireplace and dip our corned beef  in some lime Kool-Aid, and I’ll even let you draw a shamrock on my arm with a magic marker.  Then we could sing a few verses of “When Irish Eyes Are Smilin’.”  I’ll even wear my Viking hat and clunk myself silly with my reindeer antler shileleagh.

Or not.

Erin Go Bragh!!

I usually like to post something silly here on a Friday night. However, I simply had to speak out about a tragic yet completely avoidable event that hit the news recently. Unless you live in a cave, you’ve heard about the death of Dawn Brancheau, the trainer at Sea World.   When I first learned of her tragic demise, I was both saddened and disgusted.

I was saddened for obvious reasons, and I said some prayers for her and her loved ones.

I was disgusted because of the commercial circus that I feel was the direct cause of her death.  Sea World gets big bucks from the Shamu name and killer whale shows.  Hello?!?!?  These animals are called  KILLER whales for a reason!!  It’s not because they are bad, but it describes how the Creator made them.  It’s in their nature.  They KILL.  And boy do they have the equipment for it!  Why would anyone in their right mind think it’s even remotely OK to have humans in a tank full of killer whales?

I guess it’s the same line of thought that goes through the trainers of lions, and tigers, and bears (oh my)!   People are willing to pay money to watch other humans risk their lives via close contact with wild animals.  Anyone remember what happened to Siegfried & Roy?  Roy Horn was nearly killed by a tiger in 2003.  Unfortunately, that did not stop others from continuing on with their wild animal acts.

Oh but wait!! They’re not wild, they’ve been bred in captivity!  This is the sickness that afflicts the commercial numbskulls who minimize the danger in favor of scooping up cash.   And why wouldn’t they be OK with that?  They’re getting rich.   After all, the executives at Sea World are not the ones jumping in the water with these killer whales.

Now for the really sick stuff:  not only did the killer whale shows resume, they “honored” the trainer with a video tribute at the beginning.  All this only three days after she was killed.

I hate to admit it, but my grandparents were right; even when I was a kid.  “There’s no such thing as common sense anymore,” we heard over and over again.

Little did I know how wise they were.  Who knows?  Maybe it’s the end of the world as we know it (and yes I do love that song).  Too many humans value money over everything else.

Maybe it’s time for us to inject a little common sense here and there.  You know, do something really weird like boycott Sea World for example.  I suppose I could be banished to a deserted island for suggesting such things.

After all, money makes the (Sea) World go ‘round.

My belly button and I will be celebrating another birthday soon.  I think the rest of my body got older also…  Don’t worry, everything still works.  In fact, things may even be improving somewhat… at least in some respects.  Life is pretty darn good.  However, since I’ve been an official member of the AARP for awhile now, I’d like to share a few observations I’ve made about this “getting older” business:

Some down sides:

1) The hair in my ears, nose, and eyebrows grows better than the hair on my head. I figure if I lose too much more of my mop, I’ll just let all the other stuff grow out and comb it over.

Q) My body stores fat more readily than ever before.  I’m beginning to believe that all I really have to do is LOOK at food and I will gain ten pounds. Unless, of course, I’m looking at celery or carrots; they don’t fatten me. But it seems to take 430 days of drinking 34 glasses of water a day and eating nothing but bunny food to effect the loss of 1/2 pound or so. Unless I exercise.  If I run 27 miles before I have breakfast, I might be able to lose another 0.001 pound.

9) I am older than many of the people I see at work!   This has never happened to me before.  They don’t seem to mind, though. Folks just humor me when I reminisce about when the Beatles came over on the Mayflower and stuff like that. “Remember the race riots in ’67? Oh, you weren’t born yet? Ok, you, shut up and go away. Wait… you gonna eat that Twinkie??”

F) The “good old days” consisted of obsolete technology.  I’m not talking IBM 8088 computers or “new” calculators that would actually do a square root and only cost $60 either. I’m talking Univac, a huge computer built with vacuum tubes, and watching my favorite TV programs in glorious Black and White, because that’s all there was.  Radios and TV sets all had tubes in them, and you had to wait 30 seconds for them to warm up before getting anything. Oh, and not to forget record players.  Man, I’m getting ancient here!

But believe it or don’t, there really are some positive things about this aging business:

A) I don’t have the emotional roller coaster I used to ride around on all the time.  Man, growing up was the pits!!  Well, OK, not all the time.  There was quite a bit of fun along the way.  However, don’t know about you folks, but this boy sure spent way too much time weeping and gnashing his teeth. These days, I try to be grateful and count my blessings instead of whining and numbering all my troubles.  Works most of the time.  And I have more patience than I’ve ever had…

Take driving, for example. Used to be a daily thing for me to get totally ticked off at idiot drivers. Someone would cut me off, right? So I’d get an adrenalin rush, and catch up to them to yell something like this:   “Hey Chicken Lips! Examine my angry red face while I display one of my more memorable fingers to your eye things! You have no brain! I question your ancestral heritage! I believe you are a bark eater!”  All the while, my skin would be crawling with adrenalin goose bumps, and that funny taste would linger in the back of my mouth. I didn’t really like the feeling, but it took quite awhile for me to put it all into perspective. Nowadays, if a mentally ill driving person does me some dirt, I mutter something like, “oh thank you, Flavorhead. See you in the obituaries.” They never get to see me lose my temper, and with any luck, I never see them again, anyway.  This is probably a good thing, because you just never know who might have a bazooka or something lying next to them on the driver’s seat.

12) My wife and I still chase each other, and it’s better than ever!  Except for that one time she wanted to invite that camel over for pizza and fake wine (maybe that was a dream).

C5) I make more money than I ever have before. Well, ok, I spend more money than I ever have before, too. In fact thanks to Visa Money Bucket Plastic Land, I can spend money I don’t have. But what the heck, my Mom and Dad didn’t leave me anything, so the least I can do is return the favor for my kids.

So, hey, life is pretty darn good. I doubt that I’m going to get younger, so I guess I’ll have to accept the fact that I’m becoming a “walking antique.”  In previous years, I’ve found myself spending way too much time dwelling on the negative, but these days I try to do a little better each year.  You know, eating right, exercising, and all that other yada yada yada.  Besides, I just might get really good at styling all that ear, nose, and eyebrow hair.

Perhaps the biggest bonus I’ve acquired along the path of this journey we call life is peace of mind.  I’ve learned (albeit sometimes the hard way) to use a few coping skills that have helped me mellow out quite a bit.  Like my reaction to change, for example.  I’m not really fond of Dennis Miller’s brand of humor, but he said a pretty neat thing awhile ago:  “Life is like riding the bus.  It requires change.”  Lots of stuff changing at work. At home too.  And in the news??  Forget about it awreddy!!  Stuff that used to make my brain explode now simply seems like an annoying little fly to be swatted out of my face.  What’s that expression…? Don’t sweat the petty things.   Or is that don’t pet the sweaty things??  You know, those two rules for stress management:  1) don’t sweat the small stuff, and 2) everything is small stuff.

It reminds me of a poem…  maybe because I made it up:

Das Bizzyvink

by Me, the Person

The stress tried to kill me, but right now it’s gone.

I mowed all the garbage and dumped out the lawn.

Drove backwards to work, it’s a new way to say,

“Hey all of you ninnies, get out of my way!”

When stress is a color, it’s probably red.

It burns up my innards and blushes my head.

It’s much better just to chill out, you see,

So there’s not too much STRESS and too little of ME.

Ya shoor, in my head there arose such a clatter,

From stressing about things that really don’t matter.

But these days I’m much better, if you don’t mind my saying.

More fun I am having, more games I am playing.

Well, I’m hoping to take stuff less seriously now.

I’ve been here before, so I think I know how.

I’ll try to stay happy and whistle while working.

More “Happy Joy Joy,” and less “You are a Jerk”-ing.

Well, this is me leaving now.  Hope all of you have a nice time on my belly button’s birthday.  And as I’ve often said, please remember that it’s better to be you than for you to be me, and that although you can count to 8, “eight” is a word.

It’s been a very long work week.  VERY long.  Did I mention that my work week seemed to last forever and 3 days?

Very long.

I’m both blessed and cursed with a pretty decent job in the computer field.  Believe me, in times like these I am quite aware of how fortunate I am.  I send thanks every day (sometimes more than once) to the Creator and All Their Friends for what I have.

However, the job is a bit stressful at times.  Way too much work and not nearly enough time.  I could literally live at work and not get finished.  I just do the best I can.  Things go relatively well until something unplanned comes along.  And of course that’s a pretty common occurrence.  “Some days you get the bear, and some days the bear gets you,” I’ve found myself proclaiming to my boss.

The bear got me a few too many times this week.

You see, there are confused souls on this planet who squander their technical talents on writing software that transforms into little icky monsters.  Once they get their software perfected, they let them loose on the internet and they bop around and infect computers.  These nasty virus bugs and spyware (also called malware) fly around incognito, often posing as “interesting” e-mails or annoying pop-up windows.  Unsuspecting folks click inside the pop-up windows to get rid of them, or open the “interesting” e-mails to check out what’s inside.

“Bad juju,” as my friend Eric would say.  I have rebuilt 3 computers this past week due to virus and / or spyware problems.  Such fun you know.  Only spend a minimum of 3 hours on each computer.  I love the happy stories people relate to me regarding how their work computer was infected:

“I let my wife use it at home and…”

“I was surfing the web and got this crazy e-mail.  Next thing I know…”

“All I did was click NO inside this stupid pop-up window…”

Of course, none of these folks have their Windows firewall turned on; nor do they have their Microsoft updates applied.  Those nasty spam/virus/spyware guys love to create bugs that go after Windows machines.   They have a real fun time exploiting the Microsoft operating systems for a number of reasons which really is a whole different story.

So if you have a computer that connects to the internet (especially a Windows computer), PLEASE remember to:

A) Keep your Microsoft Updates applied,

3)  Refrain from clicking anything inside a pop-up window, meaning close it from the task bar (right-click down there and choose Close)

%)  Keep your anti-virus software updated, and

19)  Never, NEVER open an e-mail from anyone you don’t know.  Delete it and dump your trash.

Not sure about you, but I can pretty much tell when I’m getting a spam message.  Vicodin and other narcotics are offered for cheap money; or maybe something will make my manhood larger, or perhaps I might be awarded a “Free Sample Available Only On The Internet.”

You get the idea.

And if the crap e-mail gets too bad, get a different e-mail address.   Pain in the tush, but it might be worth it.

I’m often asked, “why do people make spam and write viruses?”  My answer?

“They obviously have never had a romantic relationship.  Or perhaps their pets won’t have anything to do with them.  Frustrated, sad, lonely people do this.”

At least, that’s my professional opinion.

Hopefully next week I will get the bear more than the bear gets me.  Until then, I intend to fill my weekend with highly technical chores like stacking firewood, walking the dog through the woods, and having friends over.  I’m pretty geeked about that last one because we’re having PIZZA!!!  Since the turn of the year my lovely girlfriend and I are eating much healthier foods, so pizza has been cast aside as a very rarely eaten delicacy.  I must be careful not to drool all over the keyboard as I type about it.  Oh, and to complement the pizza I’ll be enjoying the very technical task of making “bluederberry pie” (part blueberry part elderberry) to serve with some ice cream (fat free Breyer’s vanilla of course).

OK.  Enough with the computer jerkface virus spam spyware making stinker butt peoples.  I was so fried from work today I almost stayed the HECK away from the computer.  Watched some recorded TV with my lovely girlfriend and was darn near ready to ignore “Happy Friday!!!” I’ll have to admit though, letting out the frustration is good therapy.   Besides, I do enjoy this stupid computer as a toy; and as you may have seen from previous posts I enjoy digging up a video for the fun of it.  Again, my ritual apology to those with dialup internet.  Spare yourself the grief… don’t click on the video unless  you are REALLY patient.

This one is from a band called Mi Sex, who had a hit in 1979 called “Computer Games.”  Technology (and music) has changed a bit since then…  The song’s a bit lengthy but it was kind of fun in those days.  Let’s hear it for YouTube.

Something is very very wrong here…

Last week the Supreme Court overturned the ban on political spending by corporations.

Is that cool or what??

Having been on the planet for 55 years, nothing much surprises me anymore.  As a boy I was taught that elected officials were supposed to be working for US, not for big money.  Silly me; little did I know…  The longer I get to hang out on Planet Earth, the more labels like politicians, corporate executives, corporate board members, special interest groups, and mobsters seem to mean the same thing.

Being the idealist that I am, I started to feel pretty good about electing a president who advocated change.    Don’t get me wrong; I never assumed that the new guy was going to be able to reverse a few centuries of greed and corruption in four years.  Then again, we have to start SOMEWHERE, don’t we?

Please?

Last thing we need is for corporations to have even more political clout.  God knows we already have way too much corporate everything bombarding us from all sides.   The influence has been woven into the fabric of western culture.  And what is Number One with all too many corporations?  Well money of course.  People are not valued for who they are but for how they perform.  Sure, our immediate peers are not generally in this boat; I’m talking about the executives and the board.  The ones who really run the place.  To illustrate:  remember the “old days” of work when you first hired in, or if you had a matter concerning you or your family?  You would go to the Personnel department.   That term is obsolete, and has been replaced with “human resources.” So what, I’m not a person anymore?  No.  Not according to the company.  I’m an asset with a first and last name.  At least that’s how it feels quite often.  Rare is the company executive or corporate board that actually treats their “human resources” like family.

Another example:  corporate names are being assigned to buildings, places, and events.   Here in Michigan, Tiger Stadium has been replaced by Comerica Park.  We used to go to concerts at Pine Knob; a power company has renamed  the place after themselves:  The DTE Energy Music Theater.  All over the country, the names of stadiums and parks are having their old names dumped in favor of corporate monikers.  Football games are played on artificial fields with huge commercial messages painted on the fake turf.

OK that’s enough…

So maybe if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.  Huh???  No, I don’t really mean that.  I think we all need to buy locally (from Fred the honey guy or Zelda the baking lady) and act globally.  But if the changing of names of sports venues, etc. is going corporate, why not rename our pets or even our kids?

“Honey, I need to go to the store, do we need anything?”

“Yeah babe, Alcoa needs his diaper changed and we’re all out.  Also I bet your daughter wants to go with you.”

“OK Almond Joy, give mom a big Hershey’s Kiss and let’s get going.  When we get back, we’ll find the leash and take Chrysler for a walk through the Town and Country.”

“Ha ha Dad, you’re so funny.  We can’t walk through the Town and Country…  Oh wait, maybe if we open both sliding doors… but that’s not a very long walk.”

“I know, just checking to see if you’re paying attention.  But let’s get a move on, the Exxon Comedy Hour is on tonight and I’d like to be back inside by then.  After that we can Google up something else to do on the computer maybe.”

Sad thing about that silliness is the term “Google” is gaining favor in our daily vocabulary already!

I’ll remain the idealistic tree hugger  / farmers market shopper / home veggie grower guy;  in spite of my job in manufacturing.  And yes, I am very grateful to have a job.  I‘m fortunate, I get treated very well by my boss, my boss’s boss, and my boss’s boss’s boss.  I don’t mind being a worker ant.

But the priorities of capitalism really sadden me at times, and I pray often that we humans don’t completely destroy this beautiful planet the Great Spirit gave us.

So here’s another toy… I found a video of an old song I fell in love with the first time I heard it.  It says a few things about where we might end up if we abandon all care and place money first.  Again, I apologize to my friends with dialup internet:  unless you are very patient you may not want to harm yourself by clicking on the video.

Being over 50 has advantages:  skills are honed over a long period.  In other words you get good at doing stuff, whether it’s cooking, gardening, computers or whatever.  And for me at least, as I get older I’ve come to learn my limitations on various things at which I’m not so good.

There was a time when I was really certain that if I only had the correct information; I could fix anything.  That of course included things with internal combustion engines.  Talk about your inflated ego… not a healthy place for me to be.  Fortunately though, I have long since come to understand that there are many things which are really better left to professionals.  I’ve learned my limitations.

I really have no clue about how to fix a lot of the stuff on things with gasoline motors.  Sure, I can do routine stuff like change the oil, and with smaller engines like the garden tractor or rototiller I can even change a spark plug and a drive belt here and there.  But if I have to get down and dirty with the guts of the engine, I call in the big boys.  I take them to the shop.

And with cars, forget about it already.  I change the oil, change the air filter, fill the washer fluid change the wipers.  Oh and I can keep the tires pressurized.  Other than that, we go to the shop.

So there I was, checking out the snowblower where our son lives and the stupid thing will only run when the choke is on.  Not very wonderful.  Even when it did run it would poop out easily.  Lucky for us we have Lyle down the road who repairs all types of small engines.  He does a great job, and doesn’t gouge us.  Very nice fellow.  My son and I took the blower over to his place around Hallowe’en I think… on a Saturday afternoon.  We spent the obligatory ½ hour talking about life, the universe and everything.  Then Lyle got down to business.

“I’ll take care of it, but it might be a few days,” he said cautiously.

“No rush, Lyle,” I said.  “Thanks for helping us out!!”

Next day we get a voice message on the phone:  “This is Lyle.  Snowblower’s ready!!  Your bill is $34.57”

He repaired the carburetor, changed the oil, lubed the cables.  Probably took him 45 minutes.  What a guy.  Super service!

So there I was, the next weekend, running the garden tractor.  Suddenly two big noises:  kerCHAK!!  kerPOW!!”  A cough and a very loud pop.  Tractor won’t start.  “Oh God Oh God… need to make another trip to Lyle’s” my brain chaos explodes into frantic visions of a huge bill.  I pushed the tractor out to the driveway.  This was no easy task mind you… had to make several stops to catch my breath.  Then I called our wonderful son Nate to come help me get it on the trailer.  “Need to get the tractor to Lyle’s,” I said.  “When it rains it pours.”  We grunted and shoved and oomphed and finally got it up on the trailer.

When we got to Lyle’s, I described the symptoms while the tractor sat dead on the trailer.  As we started with the obligatory discussion of life, the universe, and everything, we slowly revolved back to the tractor.  I stared at the back of my poor dead tractor; and suddenly my eyes caught a glimpse of something strange.  There is a sight port in the back of the tractor so you can see how much fuel is left.  There weren’t no any!!  “Ummm… Lyle, do you have any gas?  I think the &%$@ing thing is out of gas!!”

Sure enough.

We all had a big laugh over my silliness, and as we headed for home, Lyle chuckled and blurted out, “Ya know, I can’t make any money this way.”  I apologized about 8 million times and off we went.

So there I was, running the snowblower last month.  I heard some noises:  kerCHAK!!  kerPOW!!  The snowblower won’t start.  “Oh God!!  Oh God!!  It’s broke!!  Another trip to Lyle’s!!”  More brain chaos.  I heaved the snowblower back into the garage, and ALMOST went for the shovel, when a very small light bulb when off over my head.  “Maybe it needs gas…” I wondered.  Oh yeah, the tank was dry.

So there I was, driving home from work, when I hear this noise:  ppppphhhhWHEEET!!!  pppphhhfffWHEET!!!  I quick turn off the heater fan.  The noise goes away.  I run the fan some more, the noise comes back.  I turn the fan off.  The noise goes away.  I leave it off and the noise comes back!!  “OH GOD!!  OH GOD!!!  THE CRUISE CONTROL IS FLAKING OUT OR SOME OTHER VERY EXPENSIVE THING OH GOD I CAN’T TAKE IT OH GOD oh god oh ok settle down Ken…”  Then the noise went away with the fan running and the cruise on.  Then it came back this morning.  “OH GOD!!”

But I noticed something… this time the noise was accompanied by a strong wind which was pushing broadside against the car.  I watched for a clear spot in the traffic and leaned over and grabbed the window crank (remember crank windows??).  I gave the crank a little shove and the window went up just a bit.  THE STINKIN’ WINDOW WAS NOT CLOSED COMPLETELY.

Sheesh.

So here I am, working on telling my magnifying mind to please chill out and give me some rest.  Thankfully, the computer I’m typing this on isn’t making any strange noises.

AND… there’s nothing near me that runs on a gasoline engine.

Hello My Friends,

It’s my sincere belief that our Creator put at least a little bit of angel in each of us.

So here’s a call to all you angels.

I can’t bring myself to write anything funny today due to the terrible suffering in Haiti.

Please donate what you can to help out.  Even a few bucks can help.  Here are just a few links you can use to support those who are working to bring aid:

http://www.redcross.org

http://www.unicefusa.org

http://www.salvationarmyusa.org

http://www.internationalaid.org

http://www.pih.org/home2.html

Below is a video of Train’s “Calling All Angels.”  This is a new widget for me on here, and I can’t figure out how to put the “preview image” in the video window.  Oh well.  Dialup users may not want to click on it … I’m sure you know the story.  I know I sure do, been there, done that.

Our grandson had his first birthday recently. 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 his mommy!!

As frogs like to say, “Time’s fun when you’re having flies.”

My beautiful girlfriend (the one I married) and I spoke to our son-in-law that evening to share the joy. Mom, our daughter, is a nurse and was at work. Holy Déjà vu Batman!! Same scene as when our kids were young. Near the end of the conversation I gave our son-in-law the bad news.

“You know, Brian; now that you’re a Daddy you are automatically afflicted with an illness,” I related.

“What’s that?” he asked with some apprehension.

“Time will now fly like no other. In what will seem like a day and a half, you’ll be 55 years old and wonder where the HECK the years went.”

Exactly what happened to me and my lovely bride. Don’t get me wrong, we treasure each day we are on the planet. We kinda like it here! 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.

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 6:22 a.m.

Situate my lunch in the back seat, plug the smell phone into the earphone/mic thingy, come around to the driver’s seat and turn on the car.

THE CLOCK SAYS 6:31 A.M. FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. There is NO WAY it takes me 8 minutes to walk from my back door to the garage. And yes, the car’s clock is correct; just like the clock inside. I’m pretty anal about that.

Time warp I tell ya!!

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? Go ahead, I double dare ya to move your mouse over this text here and click on the link(Let’s hear it for YouTube).

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…