cleaning, Molly, Oscars

Another One Bites The Dust

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Did you waste the time and effort to watch the “Worst Show On Earth” (otherwise known as the Oscars)?  From all the reviews and rants I have seen, this years show reached new depths of bad. It would seem that a group dedicated to excellence in entertainment should be able to do better.

I have to admit that I did not watch the Oscars. Instead, Molly and I were busy vacuuming and steam cleaning the carpets. Of course, that led to Molly being very unhappy with me. At first only because she got tired of running from the noise of the machines and then because everyplace she went to lay down and rest on the carpet was damp. Pretty much the story of my life – do something good and make the ladies unhappy. {*grin*}

Earlier in the day, Molly was exhibiting her regal prerogatives, scanning for signs of the squirrels she so wants to herd.

She spent hours scanning back and forth, just hoping to spot one of the little miscreants to sprint after. I have to admit that there are times I would happily join her in pursuing them. Just last week the power flashed off as one of them fried themselves on the power lines. You can tell that spring is approaching because the squirrels are coming out to frolic and fry. Goes right along with the tulips emerging and Molly shedding slightly less. All the traditional signs of spring. {*grin*}

Time to get to work (and move all the furniture back to where it belongs).

connections

Long Haul

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One of the interesting things about life in a rural area is that you know many people for decades, people who aren’t necessarily your friends, but people who have been around forever and are connected to you in odd ways. My mind meandered along that track today when I went to get my hair cut.

Why you may ask? Well, my barber, Don, first opened his shop when he returned from ‘Nam in 1972 and I first met him when I returned home from college over Christmas break that year and got a haircut. We ran into each other for the occasional haircut over the coming years until L and I moved back here in 1989. Then it became a regular occurrence. So we have known each other on an acquaintance basis for close to 40 years.

Over the course of that time we have discovered other connections. His late father used to run a pool hall here which was frequented by an uncle of mine (by marriage) who practiced pool at the shark level there for a time. I never put the two together until Dag (his father) died and the obituary mentioned Dag’s Pool Hall. By that time my uncle was long gone as well. When I mentioned to Don that I had never mentally connected him with Dag and my uncle, it turned out he had never connected my uncle with me either. Strange how some connections only become apparent later.

Likewise at his 60th birthday party (a small gathering of ~200 people {*grin*}), I discovered that we were for a time related by marriage. The daughter of one of my second cousins who was the in the same class as L and I was married to his younger brother for a time. We only became aware of the connection when she attended the party and we got to talking while waiting for the cake to be cut.

Don also serves as an area Santa Claus every year, both charity and private. He has a classic fire truck bedecked with lights that he drives around delivering cheer and presents, raising money for charity. The Son had many a Christmas where Santa arrived on Christmas Eve with sirens blaring and gifts in tow. Somewhere I even have a picture with mom sitting on Santa’s lap from one of those years.

I even sicked the press on Don one election year when the Denver papers were covering the ballot issues out here. He didn’t know at first who sent the reporter down to spend the afternoon kvetching with him and his customers, but always swore he’d get even someday. I’m still waiting. {*grin*}

The point of all this meandering is that, one of these days, Don is going to retire and I’ll have to find a new barber. That will be a strange adjustment after all these years. No more calling for an appointment and having him recognize my voice. No more asking when I can get in to be made handsome and being told there is no hope for that, but that he might be able to make me look like less of a bum. I’m going to miss that.

joke, shaggy dog

Hair, Hair, Everywhere

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After partying wildly all weekend … OK, OK going out to dinner with mom and the MIL … L is back in the mountains celebrating her real birthday (mainly attending the ministry meeting at the prison) and I am back at work. After all, any excitement at this advanced age is hazardous to our health. {*grin*}

Given the reactions to my old joke, you all should be happy that I haven’t yet indulged in my penchant for really long and involved shaggy dog jokes. I especially like those that take at least a few minutes in setup and end in a bad pun or other word play. After all, a chorus of groans is so much more rewarding that a few laughs here and there. Especially if it is a multiple part shaggy dog with multiple groans. With that in mind, I hereby relent and present one of my favorite shaggy dogs from the 80’s.

A church in the outlands of the old country lost their long term bell ringer. The deacons advertised far and wide to find a replacement, but no one wanted the laborious and unpaid position. Just as the priest was about to abandon all hope of finding a new bell ringer, he answered a knock at the door and saw an armless man standing there.

“I’m here about the bell ringer job,” the man said.

“But,” replied the priest, “How are you going to ring the bell with no arms?”

“Just watch me!” the man said.

The priest and the armless man climbed the staircase up to the bell tower. The armless man ran at the bell and rammed the bell with his forehead, causing the bell to move slightly. The armless man backed up and timing his run carefully, once again ran at the bell and rammed it with his head. The bell swung even further. After several more carefully timed running rams, the bell swung far enough and pealed mightily, releasing a beautiful sound from the bell.

“The job is yours,” said the astonished priest.

“That is fine,” said the armless man, “but I must insist on remaining nameless since I have enemies.”

“Well, … I guess that will be OK.” said the priest.

Every hour from sunup to sundown, the armless man climbed the staircase in the bell tower and ran repeatedly at the bell until the bell rang. After weeks of on-time beautiful bell ringing, the village returned to normal life. One day, the armless man miss-timed his final run at the bell and missed it entirely. Out of the tower he flew to crash onto the cobblestones below. A crowd quickly gathered and looked accusingly at the priest standing over the body.

Someone yelled, “Does anyone know this man?”

The priest sadly answered, “I don’t know his name, but his face sure rings a bell.”

…

After a period of several weeks morning, the deacons once again began the process of looking for a bell ringer. Shortly thereafter the priest was awakened from his evening nap by a dull thud at his door. When he opened the door, he saw no one until he looked down and spotted an armless and legless man on the step.

“I am here about the bell ringer position that was held by my armless brother. I was far across country when news reached me and I have been travelling since. Family honor demands that I assume the position held by my late brother.” said the armless and legless man.

“But,” replied the priest, “How are you going to ring the bell with no arms and no legs?”

“If I can ring the bell, do I have the job?” the man said.

“Yes, but you must first show me that you can ring the bell.”, replied the priest.

The priest and the armless, legless man climbed the staircase up to the bell platform. The journey was painful and arduous for the armless and legless man. He was near exhaustion when they reached the bell platform, but persisted in his mission.The man slithered his way across the platform at the bell and slammed the bell with his forehead, causing the bell to move slightly. The man backed up and once again slithered at the bell and slammed it with his head. The bell swung even further. After several more carefully timed slithering slams, the bell swung far enough and pealed mightily, releasing a beautiful sound from the bell.

“The job is yours,” said the astonished priest.

“That is fine,” said the armless man, “but I must insist on remaining nameless since I, like my brother, have enemies.”

“Well, … I guess that will be OK.” said the priest.

Time passed and the armless, legless man rang the bell day after day. He was always on time and reliable and the villagers were overjoyed to once more hear their bell peal out across the land.

One fateful day, the armless and legless man was ill with a cold. When he slammed his face into the bell, it left him disoriented and dizzy. After several more passes at the bell, he was completely lost and slithered off the bell platform and on to the cobblestones below. A crowd quickly gathered and looked accusingly at the priest standing over the misshapen lump that had been the man.

Someone yelled, “Does anyone know who this man is?”

“I don’t know his name,” sighed the distraught priest, “but he’s a dead ringer for his brother.”

birthday, joke, twitter, weather

Wild and Howling

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No, not my birthday celebration. The wind. What did you think I was talking about?

So yesterday I turned another year older (all of 57 years and the gray hairs were all earned). Four days from now L will have her birthday and join me in being older. (Notice that I did not say how old she was? A gentleman never discloses a ladies age. Just kidding.) The upshot of all that is that our real birthday quasi-celebration will be tomorrow night with our moms. Sort of splitting the difference if you will. 

It is funny to grow older. My friends and I were all convinced we’d never make it to age thirty in those halcyon years when we were sure we knew everything. Now we all laugh about it and remember those that are not still with us. One friend thinks that the fact we are all still alive is proof that we weren’t living life to the limits. Of course he then has to back down a bit when we point out that he is still with us and hasn’t led an exactly sedate life. {*grin*}

On a more serious note, you might have noted that Twitter shut down Twitdroyd and UberTwitter access today while at the same time pushing a commercial tweet for their new Twitter Mobile. Sounds like idiocy on the part of Twitter to me. I always figured people should be able to chose their own favorite method of using any service. A few more stupid moves and Twitter will be removed from my universe forever. (Facebook and MySpace already shot their own toes off and are long gone from my universe.)


Finally, I read a good joke today and thought I’d share it and leave you smiling.

B and T worked together in a factory and were both were laid off at the same time.   So they went to the unemployment office together.

Asked his occupation, B said, ‘Panty stitcher. I sew da elastic onto da ladies cotton panties.’ 

The clerk looked up panty stitcher. Finding it classified as unskilled labor, she gave B $300 a week in unemployment compensation.

T, when asked his occupation replied, ‘Diesel fitter.’

The clerk looked up diesel fitter and it was classified as a skilled job. So, the clerk gave T $600 a week in unemployment compensation. 

Later, when B found out, he was furious! He stormed back into the office to find out why his friend and co-worker was collecting double his benefits.

The clerk explained, ‘Panty stitchers are unskilled labor and diesel fitters are skilled labor.’ 

‘Wut skill?’ yelled B. ‘I sew da elastic on da panties. T puts dem over his head and says, ‘Yeah. DIESEL FITTER’.

oddness, strangeness

Wha?

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Today is being spent making up for all the brain deadness of yesterday. Yesterday was one of those days that would have been better spent not even getting out of bed. How bad was it? Well …

The day began with me getting up and mentally going through my todo list for the day as I got dressed in my bathroom. My attention wondered back to reality when I saw a flash of green and  had the random thought “I don’t have any green pants.” A few moments later it struck me that I was busily trying to stuff my leg into my green tee shirt sleeve and pull it up in the belief it was my pants. That brought reality crashing in for at least a few moments, at least long enough to finish getting dressed and get to work. At least I didn’t look quite as odd as Lady Gaga in one of her tamer incarnations:

But it was close, too close for comfort.

The bad thing is that it was the high point of my day. The rest of the day amounted to being interrupted mid-thought in everything I tried to get done. I got phone calls from every marketing firm in the universe, a couple from people who still won’t believe I’m not named Steve, and the usually assortment of lost pets and animal care concerns. After trying 5 times to fill out the grant paperwork for a proposal and still not getting past the first paragraph, I decided to go with the flow and just shut the brain down for the day. How do you handle those kind of days?

So today my brain has been rebooted and the cogito interruptus has been at a minimum. Maybe I’ll even get some real work done and not do battle with non-existent green pants. A guy can hope, can’t he?

Maybe tomorrow will be even better as I turn yet another year older and closer to death (with due apologies to Pink Floyd for mashing their timeless lyrics). (Yup, that’s right. I have a {*gasp*} birthday tomorrow.)

Things Done Right