October 13, 2009

It's October 13th. There's a definite fall chill in the air this morning. I know from watching the weather on last nights news show that today is suppose to be a near perfect fall day. Sunny and in the lower seventies. Here in my adopted homeland that's not an unusual occurrence this time of year. Fall can ramble on here well into November.

Having grown up in the Chicago area, I remember that this time of year usually signaled first snowfall. For us as children this was an exciting time of year. Halloween. Thanksgiving. CHRISTMAS!!! Trick or treating. Snowball fights. Sled hills. Turkey with all the fixin's. NEW TOYS!!!

It's funny how one's perspective on this time of year changes with age. Don't get me wrong, I still love this time of year. Just not for the same reasons. Halloween. I can hardly afford food on my own table these days. I have to buy bags of candy for these costumed juvenile delinquents! Thanksgiving. I have type 2 diabetes. Can't eat like I use to. I go for that second piece of pumpkin pie and get my hand slapped by my beautiful young bride. Christmas. Five kids. Three kids-in-law. Five grandchildren. Need I say more! Snow. That's where the good comes in. Here in the south we don't see first snowfall until late December, early January. And as far as I'm concerned, if I never saw a flake again, it wouldn't break my heart. Yes, fall is a slow moving season here in the south. Just the way I like it.

But it's October 13th. Tuesday. New music release day. Two weeks before Halloween. On Tuesday's my regular routine is I arise, turn and grab my iPhone off it's charging cradle next to my bed to check out new music in the iTunes store. Look! New Bob Dylan! Let's check that out!! Tap on the first track to listen to the sample. "Here Comes Santa Claus"!

Oh, that's just so wrong in so many different ways!

Shannon

I had to bring out the "shared" suit last Sunday. It was for me this time, not Number One. I was going to meet My Lovely Brides' second cousin, Shannon. We had never previously met. I had met his parents, Lynn (My Lovely Brides cousin) and her husband Keith and most of the other relatives on that side of the family that would also be in attendance. And, let me say, My Lovely Brides father, having had thirteen brothers and sisters, made for a rather large number of Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Second Cousins, etc. But Shannon and I had never met.

I had heard stories of this young man. Number Four was not only related to him, but they were friends. He had come up to her in middle school, shortly after she moved back from New Jersey, and introduced himself by bounding up to her and saying "hey, we're related...somehow!" Number Four had no clue who this loud, happy, vivacious young male was. They become friends for a lifetime.

I knew he had entered the Marines after high school. I knew he had returned safely home to the loving arms of this large family. I knew he had moved last year out to the coast with some friends and was working and going to school there. Certainly a daunting task for any young person. But I knew as well it was the coast and how the sun drenched warmth of a Carolina beach could feel.

But Shannon and I had never met. Until last Sunday at Brookwood Church.

The church parking lot was literally overflowing. There was a large crowd milling about by the front door on this warm, sunny, beautiful Carolina afternoon. As we entered the front door of the church we met Uncle John. He greeted us warmly. It had been over a year since we had last seen him. His resemblance to my late father-in-law always brings a happy warm feeling to me. We continued on inside and got in line to enter the sanctuary.

So many people. So many young people. Pictures flashed on large screens above the filled room. Pictures of a happy child, from infancy through high school. I recognized other family members in these pictures flashing above our heads. A lifetime revealed. We continued to move forward. And there, standing in the front of the sanctuary we saw Cousin Lynn and her husband Keith. Standing in front of there twenty-four year old son's casket, stoically greeting this seemingly endless line of people. This is were I would finally meet Shannon.

My Lovely Bride embraced her cousin. Tears began to roll down my cheeks. We cried. We all cried. I cried for the parents, having to bury their child. I cried for the grandparents, having to bury their baby boy. I cried for family who would never again see that tremendous smile. I cried for the friends who had lost one of their own. I cried for Shannon. I wished so I had met him before.

At the end of the day I returned the suit to it's place in my closet. As I hung it up I quietly whispered to it, you'll come back out in a few weeks and you'll see. It will get better. Next is a wedding. I promise. We'll dance.

Ladies and Gentleman...The Beatles!

Nothing else so effected my life growing up as The Beatles did. They helped shape my voracious love of music as well as lead me to a social standard which I still adhere to today.

I so clearly remember the first time I heard "Please Please Me". That 45 starting to spin on the old Silvertone Stereo Phonograph. The arm swinging over and slowly lowering. Those first crackles and pops that emanated from the little speakers. Then...those first two guitar notes followed by the harmonica. Amazing! And here we are, forty-six years later and this wondrous catalog of music has been re-mastered and re-released to yet another generation.

But this next generation. Do they have what it takes? Do they have the will and fortitude to carry our legacy another forty-six years? Will this music enable a shy, introverted nine year old to get up in front of his whole elementary school with three other shy, introverted friends with homemade instruments and lip-sync four consecutive Beatles songs? Uh, huh! I think not!! (Really...it was a "friend" of mine...)

Can this music touch a shy, introverted thirteen year old boy enough to put his speakers up in the open window of his second floor bedroom to blair "Helter Skelter" for all the neighborhood to hear? Uh, huh! I think not!! (Again, really...it was a "friend" of mine...)

Will some shy, introverted fifteen year old boy be so deeply moved as to struggle to learn to play "Here Comes The Sun" on his new Epiphone electric guitar for that sweet little fourteen year old girl he's sure he will marry some day? Uh, huh! I think not!! (Again, really...it was a "friend" of mine...)

Our children of today plug their headphones into their iPods and head blankly down that heavy metal, hard rock, hip-hop primrose path. The noise in their ears a mere soundtrack for their life. Our love's being lost. Our values torn asunder. It leaves us, the boomer generation to question, where did it all go?

Then. Oh, yes, then. Number one has the nerve, the unmitigated gall, to ask me...that old guy...Paul McCartney...he was really in a band before Wings?

Empty Nest

This is the second time I have become an empty nester. I would imagine it's not that uncommon any more considering the divorce rate these days. My step-son, Number Five, left for his college journey two weeks ago. He's up in the mountains, a two hour drive from home. Just the right distance. Not too close, but not too far away. It's still been a harder adjustment for me than I thought it would.

Each one of the children leaving has been a different experience. When son, Number One, now thirty years old, left for college he went a mere thirty-five miles away. It could have been a million. I was left at home with one crazy, now ex-wife and two teenage girls. I visited him quit often. It was so traumatic that I even found his cafeteria food tasty! I became somewhat of a regular. When he joined a fraternity his nickname was Captain. I was Admiral!

When daughter, Number Two, now twenty-eight, left it was...phew! See ya! Good luck! She was ready to get out and let us know by being a real pain-in-the ass for the months leading up to the departure. She had it all figured out. No interest in continuing her education, she had a job and she could afford to be living on her own. Just not too far away from home. This monumental move was a mere other side of town move. Close enough to come home and raid the kitchen pantry before heading on to that high paying job.

When daughter, Number Three, now twenty-six, left it was the first empty nest experience. This was my little baby girl moving out the day after her high school graduation. This was a real tough one. After all, hadn't it been just the other day I had put her on a bus heading off to kindergarten? And worst of all...I'm left alone with a crazy, now ex-wife! No need to fear! Number One decides he needs to save money for a car and replaces Number Three! Empty nest lasted, oh, a couple of months.

Speed ahead a few years to divorce then re-marriage. Step-daughter, Number Four, now twenty-three, is somewhat a rerun of Number Two (with a little bit of Number Three thrown in). So much in fact that that's the nickname I give her...Rerun. But she ads a new twist. She is sure living on her own is a must after high school graduation, but still can't decide on the higher education thing. So, Rerun also becomes a boomerang! Over the past four years she's been in and out three times! Number Five and I have told her the first three were on the house. Next time we charge professional movers rates! The most famous move was a three day college career at the Savannah College of Art and Design. We refer to that as Number Four's belongings visit Savannah, Georgia for the weekend. But that's a blog for another day. Anyway, Number Four is settled into college thirty miles away. Happy and content for now and still close enough to raid our pantry.

So here I am. I have a beautiful young bride I love to pieces and am looking forward to growing old with. I miss them all but I'm starting to get into this new phase of life. The one thing is...I want you kids to know...I leave the light on every night in the living room by the front door for all of you. We did change the locks though...

The Dance

Retirement welcomes me back with open arms. That was the shortest stint of my glorious career. Seven days. Someday I'll find it real funny. Not so much yet.

So here's how it went down (and I'm not fictionalizing names to protect the innocent, because, damn it, they're GUILTY AS HELL!).

The company is Roto-Plate, Inc of Burlington, NC. They claim to be "Providers of plates and graphics for the flexo industry since 1974." I went through two lengthy interviews with the owner, Jim Freeman and his new sidekick, Dan Allen. They called me. I had yet to send out a resume.

I was fawned over. I was courted. We did the hiring dance. I was made an offer. I countered their offer. They countered back. I accepted. Feelings were good. The future looked so bright I probably needed shades...ooops...although they had lost their largest account just weeks before. Timing is everything, isn't it?

OK. All right. I still believed in my fellow human being and that these were two good people who wanted to succeed. Not twenty-four hours later Mr. Freeman is on the phone with me rescinding his offer. "Although we really want you on-board, we can only afford you at $1 less an hour than what we talked about yesterday."

OK. All right. Should have seen it at this point. But he sounds like such a nice, sincere man. I'm there with you, man. I think I can contribute to righting your listing ship.

Fool me once...

Monday, August 3, 2009 I report for work. The reception by fellow employees is a little cool, but hey, it's Monday morning. I spend that first day being shown around, filling out piles of paperwork and getting settled in on a new computer. Tuesday I get down to it. I receive approximately twenty-five minutes of training by the now rapidly cooling staff. I'm in. Slapped on the back and shoved into the deep end. Sink or swim. Good luck buddy.

Wednesday through Friday we're heading into the dead of winter. These people surrounding me are not happy people. I go about doing the work I'm given to the best of my ability with the limited training I've received.

Monday. I explained to them that between the time of the first interview and the hiring I had been chosen for jury duty. No problem, they say. Four and a half hours of listening about the true scum of the county later I roll into work. Ice. No other way of explaining it.

OK. All right. Let's get to the punchline...

Tuesday. Same 'ole same 'ole. Until 4:15pm. Mr. Allen comes to fetch me. Mr. Freeman would like to talk to us. I walk into the same conference room where we had fawned and courted and danced. Whoa! Instant deep freeze!! " I finally had a chance to get with my accountant who has been out of town and...well...it's not good" says Mr. Freeman. "We're bleedin'. We're a bleedin' bad." says Mr. Allen. "We've decided to let you go at this time so you can get on with finding employment" says Mr Freeman in that, I'm doing you a big favor voice. They couldn't have gained this nugget of information before we danced? Oh, of course. Busy, busy accountant. Lucky we found him at all, they tell me. All I could say was "you should have known this before you put me and my family through this." I packed my stuff and left.

Fool me twice...

...ain't gonna happen! I'm going for dance lessons!!

Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho...

It's off to work I went!

Coming out of retirement was tough. Especially on short notice (one week). So, I ran around and tried to accomplish everything I had left on my to-do list. Didn't even come close. The to-do's will just have to wait. In these economic times when someone comes a calling with a job, there isn't much of a way you can turn it down.

There's that unsettling feeling when you start a new job. At least for me. It's the same feeling I had when I was a kid in school. The first day of the school year. Who would be in my class? Where would my classroom be located? Would I be able to remember my locker combination? Did I have cool enough new sneakers? I just couldn't sleep well the night before.

Last night my lovely bride and I sat in bed talking until almost 1am. She sensed I was nervous. So we tried to remember the seven dwarfs names (since my alarm was set to go off with "Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho" from the movie with Snow White and said dwarfs.

Sneezy...Dopey...Happy...Grumpy... Well we had four. Now what were the other three...

Gripey...no.

Cheesy...no.

Sleezy...no that was from the X-rated version

Foggy...

Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho
It's home from work we go
[Whistle]

Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr...6:30 already! Damn alarm!

Mustard, no ketchup, please...

The Oscar Meyer Wienermobile made it's yearly appearance in front of the Jewel Supermarket every summer when I was a kid. Me and all my buddies would hop on our Schwinn Stingray's and race uptown on the appointed day and time to wait for that beautiful, tricked out vehicle to arrive.

Watching it glide into the shopping center, it was truly a thing of beauty. It would come to a slow stop right in front of us. After several minutes that cool doorway would slide up, the stairs would fold down, and there would be our Oscar Meyer Wienermobile driver to greet us in there official Oscar Meyer uniform. We would get a tour of this incredible high tech road warrior, a quick sales pitch about our favorite hot dogs, then he handed out those neat little hot dog whistles. Shaped and colored like a little Oscar Meyer Wiener, boy they were loud! It was no wonder our mom's loved them so!

Last week as my lovely bride and I were finishing up dinner I was checking the news on my iPhone and there it was. What has to rank up there with one of the most horrific news stories of this year. I let out a loud gasp. A tear formed in the corners of my eye. I just couldn't fully comprehend it at first, but there was the picture. The Oscar Meyer Wienermobile had crashed into a residence in southern Wisconsin.

This news, along with the sudden death...at the age of 95...of the chairman of the board of Oscar Meyer processed meats, Mr. Oscar Mayer just the week before was devastating. Those wistful summer days of my youth rushed through my head. It seemed as though a part of me was now gone. I felt like I should be rummaging through my old boxes in storage to try and find one of those wonderful little whistles to sound in honor of the passing.

Oh, the humanity!

Funerals

I guess life comes at you in spurts. Just ask my suit.

My lone black suit has gotten a real workout the last few years. It's been having a grand old time with my oldest boy. Wedding after wedding. Can't count the number, let alone the different states it's visited. When he returns it I ask if IT had a good time and if my shoes did a lot of dancing. It always returns to me smelling a little like cigarettes and beer. Yes, it seems my suit has seen more traveling and has led a far more exciting social life than me as of late.

But this week it's been drawn to the other end of the life spectrum with me in tow. Two funerals in one week. It's been tough. Especially for a suit that hasn't seen much of this side of life. Inevitable as it is, it's hard to see someone's entire life's work wrapped up in a one half hour church service. The somber music. The quiet tears. The stark procession in, then back out. I always leave with more questions than answers.

And when I return home I quietly remove my now mournful suit. I return it to it's home in my closet in the same condition as when I removed it. No air of excitement. No smells of joy. But with the hope that it's next removal will find it joyously dancing the night away.

Politics and Cemeteries

Cemetery desecration. A United States Senator announcing he will not run for re-election. How, you ask, could these be related? Come on! It's Chicago!!

Burr Oak Cemetery in southwest suburban Alsip, Illinois is truly growing, by the hour, into a most horrific story. Up to three hundred caskets unearthed, the parts of which found scattered in an unused section of the cemetery so the greedy bastards running the place could resell the plots for profit. Even the casket of civil rights icon Emmett Till was found tossed aside, neglected and rusted in a back storage room.

The Senator. Granted, we are speaking of a Senate appointment of questionable integrity. Appointed to fill the seat vacated by President Obama by our favorite corrupt Governor Rod Blagojevich before he was ejected from the office. We could take the high ground here and believe Mr. Burris has grown a conscience and is acting in the interest of his constituency.

Come on! It's Chicago!! That would not only be a non-entertaining hypothesis, but truly implausible!

Votes! Most everyone knows of this most auspicious group of Chicagoans, led in life AND death by none other than Richard J. Daley, Sr. Yes, dear readers, those unearthed souls represent registered Chicago voters! And we all know, Mr Burris realized that without that most important block of Chicago voters, the dead, it would be mathematically impossible to remain in that tainted seat he currently occupies in Washington.

Now while we're on the subject, I'd like to introduce you to my favorite member of this voting block...

Meet Princess Nudelman of Chicago, Illinois! Why, you ask, was she sent a voter's registration packet? Especially since she is deceased, AND a goldfish, no less!! The late Princess' owner explains that she may have landed on the list when a close family member filled in her name when they got a second phone line for their home computer.

Hmmmm. Sounds a little fishy, doesn't it?!

My Lovely Bride Turns...29

I'm sorry. But you know me honey. I just couldn't resist! To me this picture of you that I took when you came home from celebrating your birthday last night with the "Fun Girls" shows how young at heart you are.

There are milestone birthdays. For me, the tough one was forty. My closest childhood friend had passed away suddenly earlier that year. I felt the sudden true burdens of adulthood. Luckily that has passed and the inner child returned. It took a while and I couldn't have found myself again without the help of my lovely bride.

So here's to you my sweetheart. The love of my life. My child bride. I'm looking forward to the next fifty!

I recently turned fifty, which is young for a tree, mid-life for an elephant, and ancient for a quarter-miler whose son now says, “Dad, I just can't run with you anymore unless I bring something to read.” -Bill Cosby

Age is strictly a case of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. -Jack Benny,

The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age. -Lucille Ball

If you live to be one hundred, you've got it made. Very few people die past that age. -George Burns

Old people shouldn't eat health foods. They need all the preservatives they can get. -Robert Orben

There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.
-Sophia Loren

Another Day at the Office

Just another summers day at the office. I've found I do my best writing out here on the back deck. Lately it's been dry and not unreasonably hot so the weather Gods have been cooperating. Right now I have a lovely cooling breeze coming out of the north. My trusty dog is wandering the deck aimlessly (one of his best talents...being aimless). Dave Matthews Band is playing out of the portable speakers.

I'm guessing most reading this will think, mmmm, sounds good to me! But the truth is retirement at this young of an age and questionable financial situation is a hit or miss deal. Some days are better than others. For instance, Mondays are still Mondays, especially after a holiday weekend. I become use to the companionship and the hustle and bustle of the days spent with my lovely bride. Now I know I have things on my ToDo list (yes, there's an app for that!) but getting my brain into that gear seems more difficult today.

Another contributing factor to my days are the dreams I've been having at night since I entered into this retired state. Some of them have gotten really weird. Last night I dreamed I stopped by my old office to say hello and somehow ended up sitting at my old desk and just started working on a production job out of habit. I was working away, and I was enjoying it! Then someone came over and started nagging that this thing had to go and I better get moving and get it back to the press room pronto. It was at that point I became aware that, hey, I don't work here any longer, picked myself up, walked out and immediately woke up.

So, I'm left here this morning with both that sense of loss again as well as the elation of the "take this job and shove it!" A true conflict. But, one with good music and a cooling northern breeze!

Happy Boithday Liddle Goil!

I don't know why that line from "All in the Family" sticks in my mind. Archie wishing Gloria a happy birthday in one of the hundreds of episodes of that groundbreaking TV show. One of his more tender moments, I guess.

Today is my little girls birthday. Alison was born one day before the fourth of July. Tried to hold out, but the Ex insisted on serving eviction papers on the third. She had had enough. But, to her mothers credit, had it been left to me, "Alison Lynn" would have grown up being "Alison Wonderland"!

She's twenty-six. Can't believe how the time has flown. She has blossomed into a beautiful, intelligent, sweet young woman. Hard to believe that the little foot stompin', bloody murder screamin' hellion could become what she is today!

Last night she took me out to dinner at the restaurant in Greensboro where her husband works as a belated Fathers Day gift. We ate truly delicious food. Shared a bottle of wine hand picked by my son-in-law. We talked. We laughed. We spent almost three hours savoring this experience.

Driving home it struck me that this was my first truly "adult" dining experiences with one of my children. One on one as two adults, not just parent child.

I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

So...happy birthday little girl! Daddy loves you!

1 in 467,000

Today CNN informed me that I'm special. It was even breaking news! Wow!! The pride I'm feeling now.

But I really already knew this. I saw the pride in the tears rolling down my lovely brides cheeks when I came home three weeks ago and told her that I was now a member of this auspicious group of Americans. I saw it in the blank expressions of my children as we informed them. Can we have some of those warm fuzzy moments like in the insurance companies TV commercials about tightening the old belt and sitting around the kitchen table playing board games? I felt it in the warm handshake of my now former boss as I was escorted to the door.

Now like any good recipient of such a prestigious award I would be remiss if I didn't give those big thank yous to those responsible for bringing me to this group.

I, of course, have to thank our former administration for leading the rape and pillage of the former middle class of our great nation. Couldn't have done this without you boys!

I'd like to send warm regards out to the banking industry for their participation in getting me to this pinnacle of my life.

Then there's those insurance companies with the warm fuzzy ads. I'm pretty sure I remember hearing how they assisted in this uplifting situation. Thank you...thank you very much...

My Lovely Bride

To: My Lovely Bride

Today is the fourth anniversary of the day we were married. I have to admit that I WAS a little worried that you had watched "Runaway Bride" so intently just days before the ceremony. Something about the notebook in your lap and the intermittent scribbling you were doing in it. The occasional loving glances my way with those magnificent hazel eyes, then turning back towards the screen. Then more scribbling.

But here we are. Four years down this tremendous journey together. The road isn't always smooth. Each day brings something new. But I wouldn't have it any other way. You are my friend, my partner, my lover and my soul mate. You do truly complete me.

So...

For putting up with me every day. For enduring the corny jokes. The trials of being in the printing business by marriage. For keeping me straight and headed down the road...

You have TRULY earned this!

Love Them Dearly!

I love them dearly, but come Sunday...

Mom comes to pick them up and I've truly never been happier to see my daughter. We did have fun.

Went to Burlington City Park Saturday afternoon. Rode the train twice. Carousel three times. Planes, trains, boats and automobiles...they rode them all. Stopped at Wendy's on the way home for chicken nugget kids meals with small frostys. A necessity after a hot day in the park I was told.

Today (Sunday) I showed them the shed out back, just in case the next time they come to stay they'd know where they could end up IF they were to misbehave! While we were in there we just happened to find two old super-soaker squirt guns. So, out came the bathing suits and we had a good time with those. And, of course, being the considerate Pops that I am, I sent them home with these two new treasures with instructions on how to ambush their parents with them!

But after they left...

The silence. The sound of it was just so wonderful!! I actually had a ringing in my ears the same as I did after a Springsteen concert back in the '80s. I just sat in my office, lights out, ceiling fan on high and listened to it. Listened to that beautiful silence. For a half an hour. Silence.

Bless their hearts...but...oh that silence felt good!

Still Kickin'

I've been negligent of my blogging duties. Having returned safely "off of the mountain" it's been chores, lists and honey do's.

Now my lovely bride is off to the beach for a few days and I'm here at home unsupervised. Well, not really. I'm actually being babysat on by my five year old grandaughter Olivia and her two and three quarters year old brother Paxton.

And a fine job they're doing! They "let" me stay up til 11:30pm last night after feeding me lots and lots of junk food! Then they made sure I didn't oversleep this morning and miss the beautiful sunrise so they woke me at 6:25am! Wow!! My lovely bride must be paying these two pretty well for babysitting Pops.

If I could only untie these ropes around my wrists and ankles. Hey...guys...are those my car keys you're walking out the door with?! Guys...HEY YOU GUYS!!





-- Post From My iPhone 3G

Flashback

When my lovely bride told me about our son's three day college orientation and how we had the "opportunity" to stay in our own dorm room while we were attending I thought, yea, why not. Could be fun. Might resurrect some great old college memories. Six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Break out the old bong (just kidding! Never did anything like that!!)

But I guess I didn't REALLY think it would be exactly like it was back then. After all, we were under the impression that the dorm we would be spending this three day get away was something like married student housing. Wrongo! Here I lie in my extra long institutional dorm bed with a lumpy hard institutional mattress on the other side of the room from my lovely bride and her extra long institutional dorm bed with a lumpy hard institutional mattress. The single fluorescent light fixture in the middle of the popcorn white ceiling just adds insult to injury. No TV. No radio. Bare walls. No Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.

Good night dear! Hell, she's already asleep.


-- Post From My iPhone 3G

Childis Interuptis

We're this close to being empty nesters. For this past week we've actually had an advance preview of it with Brandon off at Beach Grad (for you Yankees a tradition of spending a week at the Carolina coast immediatly after high school graduation). So, Friday night, a bottle of fine Pinot Grigio, a romantic movie (OK who new Brideshead Revisited would be quite so "heavy"). All you parents know where I'm going with this. It's like 12:30am. Movie's just ended (although we're kinda looking at each other, scratching our heads and giving each other the "what was that all about" look) wine has been consumed. What happens next? My lovely bride's phone begins to ring. It's our twenty-three year old asking if she can come spend the night. She's just got off work, the highway is closed due to an accident and it would be easier coming to our house then getting home.

Again proving my theory...they never go away and the TRUE reason older folks don't have more children!

No picture to post with this one. I know you'll all thank me for that!!


-- Post From My iPhone 3G

Got the Call

I'm so excited! But then again, right now it wouldn't take much. I got the call today! In amongst the plethora of junk mail. There it was. Semi-official looking. Return address, Jury Clerk, Clerk of Superior Court. Yes...jury duty! Fifty-three years old and never before have I received...the Call. Been registered to vote since I was eighteen. Always kept it current. But never had I been amongst the chosen before. I always assumed it might have to do with my mother's subversive activities in the 60-70s (she was a draft counselor). Couldn't have been mine (OK it WAS me that organized the sit-in protest against hall passes junior year of high school).

Well, I will more than likely have the time on my hands. But wait! (insert screeching brakes and tires here) My lovely bride informs me, not so fast bucko! She seems to think her father, having served as sheriff of this fine county, along with personal relationships we have with sitting judges and active lawyers might just put a nix on my fun. Oh the humanity of it all! From what I've heard, most folks try their best to get out of this civic duty. Such was the case of a young woman I worked with years ago who took a note from the owner of our company stating we couldn't get along without her. That judge made her sit there the whole week without even getting the chance to sit on a jury.

Here I am! Ready to serve! Time on my hands! Proud American wanting to fulfill a lifelong dream.

Pick me! Pick me! Pick me!!

-- Post From My iPhone 3G

Calling in Sick

It's a slightly perplexing situation. Maybe even a bit of insult to injury. But the facts are this...I have a BAD cold. Why is it that this never happened when I had a job to call in sick to? But here I am, three days into my "retirement" and I just plain don't feel well! I'm laying in the bed, my lovely bride is quietly breezing back and forth preparing to go to work when my phone rings. "Dad, so ya wanna talk to me now? I just got your text message from yesterday." Ugh. Timing is everythin, isn't it?! So after a brief conversation with the boy, I hung up. I turned to my lovely bride and asked if she could please walk down the hall and tell my home office "I won't be in today. I have a BAD cold." Now being the ever mindful wife she sauntered off down the hallway to the other end of the house. Upon returning she tells me, "No sweetie, your staff says they need you in today. They say they're lost without you..."

My office staff!

PS

I guess the picture in my previous post becomes a little more humorous (well to me anyway) if I show you all the original picture as I received it from my good friend, David Sullivan, when I shared the lawn tractor story with him via e-mail yesterday.

Just goes to show you how important it is to have good Photoshop skills?!

Getting Backtoit

Has been a long time, hasn't it! Well, since I became "involuntarily" retired this past Monday and I have some free time on my hands I thought, why not!

I can't say it came as a big surprise. Work had dwindled down to a mere trickle. We had started to hunt for "scraps" of material rather than ordering new full sheets. But still. We had survived this far into what has been the worse financial crisis in my lifetime. I have been laid off before in much milder recessions. Maybe, just maybe I was going to squeak through this one.

But, now for the good news! We had sent Margie's fathers lawn tractor out for service a few weeks ago, It had sat in our shed unused since we moved into the old homestead (4 years ago) When they first looked at it they said the whole engine would have to be replaced, it had seized. We had been told by mama that it just needed a belt replaced. Well, surprise, surprise, surprise (think Gomer here) when I got home Monday, there it was. Pistons had just needed a little persuading because it had sat so long.

So...I figure I'm going to sell my car, get my overalls out, get a big straw hat and ride around town on my new lawn tractor! Hardees seems to be the hangout for the AARP crowd to drink coffee and it's not far!

Que the music...

Get your motor runnin'
Head out on the highway
Lookin' for adventure
And whatever comes our way
Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space

I like smoke and lightning
Heavy metal thunder
Racin' with the wind
And the feelin' that I'm under
Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space

Like a true nature's child
We were born, born to be wild
We can climb so high
I never wanna die

Born to be wild
Born to be wild

© MCA Music (BMI)
All rights for the USA controlled and administered by
MCA Corporation of America, INC

--Used with permission--

--Posted from my iPhone 3G