Kakahead

We live in a swamp.  Bear Swamp, to be precise.  It’s not called Bear Swamp much these days, but the elders of the community informed us of the name some years back when my beautiful wife and I were attending a Cub Scout dinner.  We got to chatting with some friendly old timers sitting near us, and they asked, “so where ’bouts do you live??”  When we told them, they said, “oh yes, you live in Bear Swamp.”  They know that Bear Creek (pronounced “crick” unless you’re a city dweller) runs through our property, and they also know that we are in a low spot.  And we know very VERY well that if it thaws quickly in the spring, we get water.  We are also very much aware of why many people around here don’t have basements.  And if they do, they definitely have a sump pump, and their house’s foundation sticks up at least three blocks above the ground.

Living in a swamp can have its advantages though, believe it or not.  First and foremost, we will likely never run out of water.  Several times over the years when storms have killed the power, we’d just take the wheel barrow down to the creek and fill several 5-gallon buckets to use for flushing the toilet.  Don’t have to dig very far to make a pond, either.  Since animals love water, we share our property with lots of wildlife.  One of our favorite types of wildlife that appears this time of year is spring peepers.  The song they sing is a sure sign that the warm weather is not far away.

For those of you who have the terrible misfortune of not knowing peepers, they are little frogs that make loud “peep” noises when the snow is all gone.  There are times when the little froggies are singing so loudly, you can hardly hear yourself think.   They are singing even as I write this.  Can’t you hear them??? In a few weeks, the toads will be joining in with their high pitched “whirrrrrrr” call.  Last but not least are the bullfrogs.  We love their song dearly.  Sure you can’t hear them???  Oh wait.  you probably don’t live in a swamp.  Well, I have a little treat for you… click here to listen toThe Lovely Song of Spring Peepers and Their Friends

One drawback of spring, however, is the appearance of land mines all over our yard.  Anyone here let their dogs outside to go potty?  Raise your hands… Well, here in Bear Swamp, we are borrowing 5 acres of land.  I say borrowing, because I believe like the Native Americans did:  nobody owns land, we borrow it from the Creator while we’re living on it.  Musky Da Husky would run to the North Pole and back if we let him loose outside, so he gets hooked up to a 50 foot chain when he has to go potty.  All this is great when there’s snow.  He goes outside, he poops in the snow, the poop disappears and ultimately freezes.  Frozen dog poop is suitable for being stepped on, because not only is it invisible (buried in the snow) but it doesn’t stick to your shoe.  And the snow makes a wonderful cloaking device for doggie doo.  Out of sight, out of mind.  Fine with us.

Then comes the spring thaw, crocuses, pussy willows, and the peepers.  But what to our wondering eyes did appear but eight thousand dog doodies over there and over here!!  Gack! And thawed dog dirt is not at all pleasant to walk on.  It can reduce a grown man to tears when the horrible “squish” moment arrives, and then of course the stench rises up into your nostrils.  Interesting, the physics of dog logs.  Well kinda I guess.  But now that I think about it, I’m strangely intrigued about why a big gob of hound dookey stinks to high heaven right after you step in it.  I mean, if it stunk that badly before you got it all over your new Nikes, you’d be less likely to walk where the canine caca is, right??  You’d get a big nose alarm and if you had any experience at all with stepping in dog crap, you’d take evasive action.

Maybe mutts are in a conspiracy, and they coat their logs with some sort of protective membrane that seals in the poopy aroma until we break the seal with our tootsies.  Who knows?  All I know for sure is that our husky can make the lawn a very dangerous place to walk in a very short time.  Sure he looks innocent enough, but I am beginning to wonder whether he intentionally makes little land mines out of poop especially for us.

We also have cats, and they go outside and actually bury their poop!  Such a novel concept!  Musky… do you see what the kitty is doing?  Pay attention boy!  No don’t dig it up and eat it!!!  Sheesh!!

So we live in a swamp.  With the snow gone, we’re basically living in The Land of Peepers and Poopers.  After writing all that stuff about dog doo, now my mind is wondering what happens to peeper poop.

Well OK, maybe I’d rather not know.

OK, if you look below this post you’ll see I’m ON VACATION.  So, I’ll post more stuff after I come back.

Peace,

Ken

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”



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!!

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.

Hi Folks!

There is only one TRUE way to impress your friends with warmth and love, and that is by sending the following letter to all of them on Valentine’s Day or something.  So, since this I am writing this “Happy Friday” to all of you, my dear, wonderful friends, please take a minute to be bathed in the loving thoughts in the letter that follows.  AND, as an added bonus, you can easily cut and paste it out and send it to YOUR friends!  No box tops or proof of purchase required!

Remember, this is written in the singular, because I am sending this heart-felt sentiment to EACH of you, individually!!  Ok?  Here we go…

Dear Snifflehead,

Don’t think for a minute that you can even for one moment even possibly have a chance to realize anything about the possible chances of knowing what I was thinking a moment ago.  Give me a break already.  You know what I mean, right? Of course you do, that’s why we’re friends!

It’s been nearly three days now, and that’s longer than what I had anticipated before the three days began.  That was at least three days ago.  Now it is three days hence, and it feels a lot like three days have gone by.  It may seem redundant to you, but I don’t wish to repeat myself to the point of being guilty of saying the same thing over again. That would be redundant, as you may have detected, but I refuse to be accused of saying the same thing over again.

Our friendship goes back as far as I can remember; but to be honest, I can’t remember who the heck you are or what you look like.  All I know for certain is that you will soon be receiving small packages of soil in the mail.  Consider it a token of appreciation for all the things you have never done for me.  The soil you will soon enjoy will contain very small mites who will watch you while you go to the bathroom.  If you hear faint, high-pitched laughter in there while you are bathing, that is just those silly mites.  They carry small video recorders; so don’t be surprised if your hiney is featured on YouTube in the years to come.

Let’s make a point of having bark salad sometime at separate restaurants together.  Then we can have a nice telephone conversation with someone we REALLY like, and it would be much more meaningful than this garbage.   You never contacted me in the first place; so if you think I’m going to write another word about this, I’m crazy!!  Take notes at the next sink-plunging session you enjoy, and remind me to laugh at the resulting jelly donuts you stepped on during the last Global Crybaby Kaka-Roach Festival.

Above all, quit following me.  I can smell you in my dreams.  I know the model of automobile you have been repairing lately.  It is futile for you to hide from observation, there is a satellite transponder in the kitchen with your name on it.

Well, my dearest friend, I can’t for the life of me remember your name.  But if we ever meet again, please give me a lot of money.  I know that’s a big request from a stranger, but you know as well as I do that the best things in life are free…  So give me your money DARN IT!!!!  DO YOU REALLY WANT TO TRAP YOUR SOUL IN USELESS MATERIAL POSSESSIONS?   Give me all you have and let me bear the burden for you!  I promise I won’t sell your most beloved things until I get around the corner.  If your pets are selling watches on the street, what business is it of yours? They can’t work at McDonald’s all my life!! 

We gotta get something from somewhere and find out what the heck it is! Otherwise, we won’t know what we have, and then we’ll be at the end of this letter!

Jump loudly with bugs,

Your Anonymous Friend,

Me

Uh Oh… another one of those video things…

Dear Friends,

With the coming of Valentine’s Day this Sunday, I can’t help but reflect on the love I have been so fortunate to enjoy.  For example:  we have our grandson visiting this weekend.   What does that have to do with Valentine’s Day?

EVERYTHING.

I mean, think about it:  I officially began dating my beautiful girlfriend (wife) on May 19, 1972.  Fortunately for me, she allowed me to marry her and we got two beautiful children out of the deal.  In spite of a few bumps in the road for each of us (at one time or another), we all love each other to pieces and are happy most of the time.  Our son is doing great in college; our daughter and her wonderful man brought us our beautiful grandson.

Is this too mooshy for you?  Well if so, too darn bad.   It is my professional opinion that with all the garbage you hear on the news, we need to focus on what’s GOOD in our lives.  So I’m doing that right now.

That being said, in the spirit of Valentine’s Day I’d like to share some of the things I have said to my lovely girlfriend over the years.  We love to laugh, so some of the things we’ve proclaimed over the years may cause the innocent bystander to wonder a bit.  Do not be afraid… we are NOT crazy.  If you don’t believe us just us some time…  Anyway, here are some of the things I’ve said (and continue to say) to my honey pie on a pretty regular basis:

“I love you, how to say I don’t know what.  I love you like a squirrel loves a nut.”

(My lovely bride’s reply to this:  “I love you like the ice cream on the mountain top.”)

“Thank you for being my friend and letting me kiss you.”

“You are a beautiful young woman.”

“Come here and make with the kissing.”

“Your curves have always been just fine for me!!”  (That one was when she announced she’d be starting a membership at Curves.)

“Thank you for making dinner!”

“Give to me the hug…)

Well you get the idea.  But seriously folks, I really do say these things.  My professional opinion is that all women are beautiful, but none will ever be as beautiful as my lovely girlfriend / honey pie / wife person lady.  It is simply not possible.

I’d also like to make up a few other things I haven’t said yet.  And guys (or even girls), feel free to steal these if the spirit moves you:

“Your lips are like redwood trees sleeping in a volcano.”

“You have such beautiful eyes… they remind me of a velvet traffic light.”

“I bet you can’t wait to kiss me to see what I just had for lunch!”

“What color would you like your mashed potatoes to be tonight?”

OK maybe I won’t really say those things.

Anyway, our wonderful grandson is spending the weekend.  Then on Sunday, our two children, our son-in-law, and beautiful friend Ruthie will join us for Valentine’s Day dinner.  Life is good.

After dinner is over I get to have my beautiful girlfriend all to myself.  And you know what we’re gonna do??  That’s right!!  We’re playing checkers!!!

KING ME BABY!!!

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.

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.