2012
Johnny does Radio Theater
28/11/12 06:08
Life of Riley - play three parts: undertaker, doctor, and announcer
John lovering does the intro for the show
John lovering does the intro for the show
Thanksgiving 2012
24/11/12 11:34
Trying to get back to my journal and not having a lot of luck. I never go back to see where I left off since it would be nearly impossible to bridge that gap in the few paragraphs that manage to get down on paper even on a good day. As always, there is Evan. The shenanigans as of late? It's enough to keep you up at night worrying about that boy. Can't get him to focus long enough on his college stuff to get the application done. He'd rather hang out with his boys. What they do I don't want to know. It no doubt involves alcohol and god knows what else. Maybe too much alcohol. He is eighteen and an adult by most measures. He will have to live and die by the choices that he makes. Let's hope he makes the right choices. He has already shown a propensity to make bad choices in the selection of kids he calls friends. We're at a loss for words and close to tears when we consider the impact of the what we've seen. His mama is beside herself with dread. Dreading that nothing good can come from what we've seen as of late. The Twitter snippets; the Facebook comments; and that pervasive and undefined odor that permeates his bedroom are all flags that not all is well in his world. Despite the cautionary tales told by his Endocrinologist in a private phone call, Evan continues to drink. Hopefully, he drinks less. Nonetheless, it can kill him and that was a necessary conversation. It bears watching.
Not sure how Romney lost the election to Obama but he did. We need to move on. The goal now is to get through the holidays and do the best we can to stay on an even keel. We're talking about going to NY at the end of the year and that should be a good trip weather permitting. I have no complaints about work and look forward to learning more about the Agency side of the business in my newly expanded role. Nancy is doing her best to reduce the travel time to her job and if it doesn't work out then she will be done. That is an acceptable alternative. For the first time in 18 years or so, we had Thanksgiving dinner at home this year. Mrs G just wasn't up to managing it. As spry as she is in the aftermath of her bypass surgery, which was some months ago now, I suspect her choice to not have dinner there had more to do with the Mr. He is less well and with his own problems to be sure. It certainly appears that the melanoma on his scalp has returned. The vertical nodes are unmistakeable and it is only a matter of time before they ulcerate just like the ones he had removed earlier this year. Whatever it is, it is aggressive and I am alarmed at the lack of conversation around the matter. If they have a strategy, they are certainly not sharing it. Maybe it is a quality of life issue. Better to do what you do day in and day out while you can than to be ravaged and sidelined by radiation treatments designed to kill aberrant cells and sometimes the patient. It is a term more commonly known in the military as collateral damage. Whichever the case, he and the Mrs have made their decision. After 60 years together, they are entitled to pick their poison. Even if it does kill the patient. God help them.
The meal at home was a good one. Not having to cart it half way across town from our house to Nancy's parent's home as we usually do each year made it that much easier. The decision to buy a farm raised turkey was one of the better decisions we made this year. We would always choose to do so but the opportunity is sometimes elusive. We certainly waited until the last minute to get one this year so we consider ourselves fortunate to have found one as we did. The Hurd Farm purchased chicks sometime in the spring and harvested them just prior to Thanksgiving. The price was not cheap but the quality was well worth the extra money. Mrs G called me just today and told me that it was the best turkey she had ever had. And now, I'm having a go at making soup from the bones. I've never done it but have always wanted to so today is the day. It promises to be a crisp cool weekend so it will be nice to have some good soup to eat. We managed as well to clean the leaves up around the yard and I even managed to get the chimney flu cleaned yesterday. Busy is good. The wood pile will require my attention and that may well be tomorrow's task. A man needs tasks to keep his mind and body occupied. If those tasks soil the hands and bring the man closer to the earth, then the tasks are indeed heaven sent. It is something I do not do nearly enough of. Oh yes, there is a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Let me count the ways.
Not sure how Romney lost the election to Obama but he did. We need to move on. The goal now is to get through the holidays and do the best we can to stay on an even keel. We're talking about going to NY at the end of the year and that should be a good trip weather permitting. I have no complaints about work and look forward to learning more about the Agency side of the business in my newly expanded role. Nancy is doing her best to reduce the travel time to her job and if it doesn't work out then she will be done. That is an acceptable alternative. For the first time in 18 years or so, we had Thanksgiving dinner at home this year. Mrs G just wasn't up to managing it. As spry as she is in the aftermath of her bypass surgery, which was some months ago now, I suspect her choice to not have dinner there had more to do with the Mr. He is less well and with his own problems to be sure. It certainly appears that the melanoma on his scalp has returned. The vertical nodes are unmistakeable and it is only a matter of time before they ulcerate just like the ones he had removed earlier this year. Whatever it is, it is aggressive and I am alarmed at the lack of conversation around the matter. If they have a strategy, they are certainly not sharing it. Maybe it is a quality of life issue. Better to do what you do day in and day out while you can than to be ravaged and sidelined by radiation treatments designed to kill aberrant cells and sometimes the patient. It is a term more commonly known in the military as collateral damage. Whichever the case, he and the Mrs have made their decision. After 60 years together, they are entitled to pick their poison. Even if it does kill the patient. God help them.
The meal at home was a good one. Not having to cart it half way across town from our house to Nancy's parent's home as we usually do each year made it that much easier. The decision to buy a farm raised turkey was one of the better decisions we made this year. We would always choose to do so but the opportunity is sometimes elusive. We certainly waited until the last minute to get one this year so we consider ourselves fortunate to have found one as we did. The Hurd Farm purchased chicks sometime in the spring and harvested them just prior to Thanksgiving. The price was not cheap but the quality was well worth the extra money. Mrs G called me just today and told me that it was the best turkey she had ever had. And now, I'm having a go at making soup from the bones. I've never done it but have always wanted to so today is the day. It promises to be a crisp cool weekend so it will be nice to have some good soup to eat. We managed as well to clean the leaves up around the yard and I even managed to get the chimney flu cleaned yesterday. Busy is good. The wood pile will require my attention and that may well be tomorrow's task. A man needs tasks to keep his mind and body occupied. If those tasks soil the hands and bring the man closer to the earth, then the tasks are indeed heaven sent. It is something I do not do nearly enough of. Oh yes, there is a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Let me count the ways.
Ev Turns 18
16/09/12 08:32
We were still up at midnight last night waiting as we do for our son to come home. Sometimes, we go to sleep with one eye open and hope to hear him when he comes in. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. When it doesn't we'll stick our heads in his room during the night just to see if he's come home. And sometimes, that isn't necessary since we see the telltale cup with remnants of corn starch on the counter near the sink. As far as we know, he spent the day in Boston yesterday. The Tweeter feed which he inadvertently left active on my iPad once, and which remains accessible to me to this day unbeknownst to him, tells me that he may have attended a hemp festival and he may have had a drink or two at a tavern in the city. The images posted depict someone vomiting but I can't be sure if it our son or not. The quality of the picture is poor and was taken after dark which doesn't help. How much of what they did while in the city was celebratory is unknown since all Evan said was that he was going to Boston and wanted his mama to make him a batch of cookies for the ride. When he did arrive home I urged Nancy to stay in bed and leave him to his own devices. The good news was that he was home safe and that was all that mattered. It wasn't necessary to sniff around to see if she could smell alcohol, perfume, cigarettes, or marijuana. There is a time to be vigilant and there is a time to leave well enough alone. This was a time to leave well enough alone.
It is hard to say what the future might hold for our son. He is uncommunicative about most things and seems to have a circle of friends that we think we know but can't be sure about. Some are trouble for sure while others are the usual reckless types just looking to have a good time. The latter group I can live with. The troublesome ones are the ones I worry about. I should remind him, but today is not the day, that if he finds himself in hot water that he is now considered an adult in the eyes of the law and subject to the rules that apply in such situations. In other words, don't bother calling us if you get arrested for taking more that the usual risks that boys your age take. Maybe a few days behind bars will be just what he needs to know what he doesn't want in life. Maybe the scared straight stuff is the right antidote for a son whose trajectory in life is still not quite on track. In the meantime, we will do our best to steer him towards St. Joes outside of Portland for the fall semester in 2013. It may not be the city experience that he was looking for but he should have thought about that when he chose having fun over doing his schoolwork. I do think that children only have so much control over this sort of thing so you have to let it be. Gnashing of the teeth and wringing of the hands gets you nowhere. Shedding tears is an exercise in self indulgence but considering the emotional investment one has in their children, it is a necessary exercise from time to time. I would only hope, as Da has said to him all of his life, that he become a good citizen.
He is up early and seems no worse for having done whatever he did yesterday. Our concerns may have been unjustified. He plans to have breakfast with Bobby and Josh and seems hell bent to get the show on the road. His mom and I will do our own thing and we'll plan a visit to Nana and Da's later this afternoon. There are meals to prepare, gifts to wrap, and preparations to make for the week ahead. We asked Evan what he wanted for his birthday and he finally decided that he might like to have a sweater. Nancy will take him to Timberland to make a selection of his own. No sense picking one out without him and finding that it is not to his liking. He asked that she might make him a carrot cake as well so that is on the agenda. I can't remember when she last made a carrot cake but I'm certain it will just right when it is done. Her baking skills are extraordinary so we should expect something stellar. I offered to make a lasagna for dinner and it will be there for him during the week or as long as it lasts. We will urge him to leave enough time in his busy day to do his homework but that is only us talking. He will do what he wants to do and that will be that. And yes, Evan, you can take momma's car to breakfast.
Happy birthday, son.
It is hard to say what the future might hold for our son. He is uncommunicative about most things and seems to have a circle of friends that we think we know but can't be sure about. Some are trouble for sure while others are the usual reckless types just looking to have a good time. The latter group I can live with. The troublesome ones are the ones I worry about. I should remind him, but today is not the day, that if he finds himself in hot water that he is now considered an adult in the eyes of the law and subject to the rules that apply in such situations. In other words, don't bother calling us if you get arrested for taking more that the usual risks that boys your age take. Maybe a few days behind bars will be just what he needs to know what he doesn't want in life. Maybe the scared straight stuff is the right antidote for a son whose trajectory in life is still not quite on track. In the meantime, we will do our best to steer him towards St. Joes outside of Portland for the fall semester in 2013. It may not be the city experience that he was looking for but he should have thought about that when he chose having fun over doing his schoolwork. I do think that children only have so much control over this sort of thing so you have to let it be. Gnashing of the teeth and wringing of the hands gets you nowhere. Shedding tears is an exercise in self indulgence but considering the emotional investment one has in their children, it is a necessary exercise from time to time. I would only hope, as Da has said to him all of his life, that he become a good citizen.
He is up early and seems no worse for having done whatever he did yesterday. Our concerns may have been unjustified. He plans to have breakfast with Bobby and Josh and seems hell bent to get the show on the road. His mom and I will do our own thing and we'll plan a visit to Nana and Da's later this afternoon. There are meals to prepare, gifts to wrap, and preparations to make for the week ahead. We asked Evan what he wanted for his birthday and he finally decided that he might like to have a sweater. Nancy will take him to Timberland to make a selection of his own. No sense picking one out without him and finding that it is not to his liking. He asked that she might make him a carrot cake as well so that is on the agenda. I can't remember when she last made a carrot cake but I'm certain it will just right when it is done. Her baking skills are extraordinary so we should expect something stellar. I offered to make a lasagna for dinner and it will be there for him during the week or as long as it lasts. We will urge him to leave enough time in his busy day to do his homework but that is only us talking. He will do what he wants to do and that will be that. And yes, Evan, you can take momma's car to breakfast.
Happy birthday, son.
Betting on Bernanke
08/09/12 08:35
I welcome the month of September with open arms. It brings cool weather; it rids the coast and environs of tourists; and the roads are once again clear to ride our bikes as we like and when we like. We don't have to worry about avoiding the crowds at Jenness and braving the boulevard of dreams while trying to find our stride. Like a pastoral scene off the canvas of a french impressionist, the colors of the landscape change with each passing day here along the coast this time of the year. There is something about the diffusion of salt in the air and gases from the marsh that join to create a resplendent rye colored landscape along the coastline. It only gets better with each passing day. The only downside to the month of September is that the days begin to shorten and I often arrive home after a nice bike ride as it is getting dark. Not so dark that I cannot make my way safely but dark enough to know that pushing a little harder that last mile or so is the right thing to do. And rush I do.
The financial world has been in a whirl this past few months. The world's economies are in the toilet with bond yields at all time highs; interest rates at all time lows; oil trading above $100 a barrel and selling at the pump above $4 a gallon; and many sectors of the U.S. economy are looking for a reason not to throw in the towel. I have never been so attuned to these risks as I have been this year. As of late, I have been primarily focused on the reactions to the risks as a determinant of stock market valuations. Bernanke's decision to put QE3 on tap for the foreseeable future, in conjunction with similar steps taken in Europe, have created a spike in the stock market beyond the expectations of most market analysts. If you were lucky enough to be in at the bottom some months ago, and you stayed the course despite the obvious risks, you were rewarded handsomely. Now the question is, what is the calculus for change going forward? I am firmly in the camp of the "sell high and buy low" contingent but am otherwise constrained by penalties imposed by changes made within a 90-day window so must act accordingly. I will do what I always do. Take my guidance from Brinker on the direction of the Markets, take in the collective wisdom and nonsense of the online analysts, parse it as it needs to be parsed, and pray to the baby Jesus that I've made the right decision. It is true that the markets never go straight up or straight down so there is considerable wisdom during times like this to consolidate gains and await the next opportunity.
Now that our septic is squared away, we have turned our attention to related matters and had Perry Plumbing come to the house to look after a couple of things. The bathroom in the garage has not been used in years and we were wanting to get that up and running. We stopped using it since it didn't seem to be working properly. As a matter of sheer convenience, it is nice to have so we were most pleased to hear that the fix was minor. Perry checked on the water tank in the basement and evaluated our water heater. He also patched up our dryer hose so that was good. I noticed that some creature had chewed a hole in the hose when I was down there the other day and we just added it to the list of things for him to look at. Perry also attended to the water connections to the washer and dryer and now the coast is clear for the fine fellows at BestBuy to come back and hook up our new high efficiency machines. Next stop is the dishwasher. That will complete the cycle for utilities that utilize water in our house and that should be enough for this year. If someone had told me a year ago that we would take care of all these things within a years time I would have shrugged my shoulders and kept on walking. I think it's a good sign.
The financial world has been in a whirl this past few months. The world's economies are in the toilet with bond yields at all time highs; interest rates at all time lows; oil trading above $100 a barrel and selling at the pump above $4 a gallon; and many sectors of the U.S. economy are looking for a reason not to throw in the towel. I have never been so attuned to these risks as I have been this year. As of late, I have been primarily focused on the reactions to the risks as a determinant of stock market valuations. Bernanke's decision to put QE3 on tap for the foreseeable future, in conjunction with similar steps taken in Europe, have created a spike in the stock market beyond the expectations of most market analysts. If you were lucky enough to be in at the bottom some months ago, and you stayed the course despite the obvious risks, you were rewarded handsomely. Now the question is, what is the calculus for change going forward? I am firmly in the camp of the "sell high and buy low" contingent but am otherwise constrained by penalties imposed by changes made within a 90-day window so must act accordingly. I will do what I always do. Take my guidance from Brinker on the direction of the Markets, take in the collective wisdom and nonsense of the online analysts, parse it as it needs to be parsed, and pray to the baby Jesus that I've made the right decision. It is true that the markets never go straight up or straight down so there is considerable wisdom during times like this to consolidate gains and await the next opportunity.
Now that our septic is squared away, we have turned our attention to related matters and had Perry Plumbing come to the house to look after a couple of things. The bathroom in the garage has not been used in years and we were wanting to get that up and running. We stopped using it since it didn't seem to be working properly. As a matter of sheer convenience, it is nice to have so we were most pleased to hear that the fix was minor. Perry checked on the water tank in the basement and evaluated our water heater. He also patched up our dryer hose so that was good. I noticed that some creature had chewed a hole in the hose when I was down there the other day and we just added it to the list of things for him to look at. Perry also attended to the water connections to the washer and dryer and now the coast is clear for the fine fellows at BestBuy to come back and hook up our new high efficiency machines. Next stop is the dishwasher. That will complete the cycle for utilities that utilize water in our house and that should be enough for this year. If someone had told me a year ago that we would take care of all these things within a years time I would have shrugged my shoulders and kept on walking. I think it's a good sign.
You Didn't Build That
22/08/12 07:39
I sure as shit did, Barry. The president's own comments have been twisted and contorted into a very usable theme by the Republicans at their national convention. I love it! It so captures the liberal mindset. The notion that one cannot do or create anything in a truly liberal and socialistic society without the help of government rankles the very hearts of those who have done just that. Speaker after speaker stepped up to the podium at the convention and gave personal accounts of their own success while making the case for electing anyone other than Obama in 2012. Another shill for the democratic point of view, Ms. Hillary Clinton, espoused a similar point of view some years back and expressed it in different terms when she penned a book entitled, "It Takes a Village." Given the economy, unemployment above 8%, gasoline prices above $4 a gallon, and a staggering national debt above $15 trillion, this is no time to increase dependencies on the government. Rather, our nation needs to rally its citizens to pull together their collective enterprise and intelligence to rebuild our sensibilities and forge a new and inspired view of what we can accomplish. That task, god willing, will fall to Mitt Romney come election day some 90 days from now.
Evan registered to vote this past week. This has been eighteen years in the making and this year will be his year. He will get to exercise his civic duty in the confines of the voting booth. It will be unlike any experience he has had to date and I'm not quite sure how he will vote were I to venture a guess. The influences of social media on today's youth do not register with me but I know them to be powerful yet subtle. Obama sold the hope and change bullshit 4 years ago which was a compelling theme for the time and in the end proved to be more than effective to get him elected. This time around, I'm not sure they have such a theme and that is telling. Were they to tow the "Hope and Change" theme once again, my question would be, how is that working out for you? Actually, I think their theme is "forward." A theme right out of the Saul Alinsky's playbook. It represents a culmination of socialistic influences as pitched by the penultimate community organizer. Now is not the time for a community organizer. If I have given any direction whatsoever to Evan relative to politics, it is that he should never vote for the man. It is always best to vote for those who would best represent your political philosophy. The delineation could never be clearer this time around. He only need be true to himself at the end of the day.
What in god's name were they thinking when they widened our road? Did they have nothing else to do in town? We have two houses on our street and we needed this so-called improvement like a hole in the head. They actually pushed back the sides of the road and didn't actually widen the road itself so I should clarify that point. As critical as I am of this effort, I must say that our street now resembles a boulevard rather than a lane and I think that is a good thing. It will likely look better once vegetation replaces the lanes of dirt created when the bulldozer pushed each side of the road back some two feet. It will all be a distant memory and life will resume as though it never occurred. My darling will cease spewing her vitriolic views on the subject and I will stop defending the actions of the town.
Evan registered to vote this past week. This has been eighteen years in the making and this year will be his year. He will get to exercise his civic duty in the confines of the voting booth. It will be unlike any experience he has had to date and I'm not quite sure how he will vote were I to venture a guess. The influences of social media on today's youth do not register with me but I know them to be powerful yet subtle. Obama sold the hope and change bullshit 4 years ago which was a compelling theme for the time and in the end proved to be more than effective to get him elected. This time around, I'm not sure they have such a theme and that is telling. Were they to tow the "Hope and Change" theme once again, my question would be, how is that working out for you? Actually, I think their theme is "forward." A theme right out of the Saul Alinsky's playbook. It represents a culmination of socialistic influences as pitched by the penultimate community organizer. Now is not the time for a community organizer. If I have given any direction whatsoever to Evan relative to politics, it is that he should never vote for the man. It is always best to vote for those who would best represent your political philosophy. The delineation could never be clearer this time around. He only need be true to himself at the end of the day.
What in god's name were they thinking when they widened our road? Did they have nothing else to do in town? We have two houses on our street and we needed this so-called improvement like a hole in the head. They actually pushed back the sides of the road and didn't actually widen the road itself so I should clarify that point. As critical as I am of this effort, I must say that our street now resembles a boulevard rather than a lane and I think that is a good thing. It will likely look better once vegetation replaces the lanes of dirt created when the bulldozer pushed each side of the road back some two feet. It will all be a distant memory and life will resume as though it never occurred. My darling will cease spewing her vitriolic views on the subject and I will stop defending the actions of the town.
Vacation Boy
20/08/12 15:50
What is a boy to do with so much time on his hands? My first vacation all year and I'm sitting on my hands on a sunny Monday afternoon. The day isn't over just yet though. My honey's are doing their own thing and I don't expect to see them for a few hours. I should probably tend to the garden but haven't much interest. After all, it wasn't my idea this year. I had every intention of letting it go and picking it up next season. But Nancy insisted so we bought the plants and threw them in the ground without so much as an afterthought. Now that tomatoes are popping up and peppers are waiting to be picked I'm reminded that there is work to do and why I've had no interest from day one. We'll have a septic solution installed on Thursday and we're hopeful that that will do the trick. At a minimum, we can use all of our utilities again. That should save us a few dollars and it is something we should have had done a long time ago. I'm surprised the Mrs. put up with it.
The financial markets have been doing better. Personally, I want to see the bottom drop out of the market just before the election so we can get Barry and his buddies out of the White House. We don't need to be sending the Obama's on junkets here, there, and everywhere on the public's dime. His first three years have been abysmal and we're left with gas prices nearing $4 per gallon, unemployment over 8%, and taxes that are about to go through the roof when the provisions of Obama care kick in. He came into office in 20008 offering hope and change and the nation got neither. Our first black president. What were we thinking? Were we alleviating some historical sense of national guilt over our sins of the past relative to blacks? Whatever the case, I hope we have the good sense to move on and not perpetuate this nonsense. Even the liberal press seems to be taking flight although it is far from over and the Romney/Ryan team need to make their case to the voters of this nation if they are to prevail in November. Right-wing radio is urging Romney to take the fight to him and stop with the Harvard niceties. Don't think for a minute that Barry and his buddies from Chicago are going to cut Mitt any slack. Axlerod will see to that. And we haven't heard the last from the likes of Al Sharpton and Ed Schultz on MSNBC.
I was hoping to find a good book to read this week. I think I have one and I got started this morning but need to pick it up again. I like to read and take great pleasure in a good book but rarely find the time to read. There are just too many distractions it seems. Why am I listening to that screeching McPhee on WRKO? Was it really necessary to put her on with Todd Fineberg? With Todd, at least, you can listen to reasoned discussions on every conceivable topic. I'm not sure that she can stay in the ring with Todd so her debut may be short lived. That is okay with me. Ever since Tommy the felon fell from Grace on the morning show and left to ply his trade with hacks from the past, Todd has been doing a fine job with only an occasional irritation from his sidekick, Cooksie. The less we hear from Cooks, the better.
The financial markets have been doing better. Personally, I want to see the bottom drop out of the market just before the election so we can get Barry and his buddies out of the White House. We don't need to be sending the Obama's on junkets here, there, and everywhere on the public's dime. His first three years have been abysmal and we're left with gas prices nearing $4 per gallon, unemployment over 8%, and taxes that are about to go through the roof when the provisions of Obama care kick in. He came into office in 20008 offering hope and change and the nation got neither. Our first black president. What were we thinking? Were we alleviating some historical sense of national guilt over our sins of the past relative to blacks? Whatever the case, I hope we have the good sense to move on and not perpetuate this nonsense. Even the liberal press seems to be taking flight although it is far from over and the Romney/Ryan team need to make their case to the voters of this nation if they are to prevail in November. Right-wing radio is urging Romney to take the fight to him and stop with the Harvard niceties. Don't think for a minute that Barry and his buddies from Chicago are going to cut Mitt any slack. Axlerod will see to that. And we haven't heard the last from the likes of Al Sharpton and Ed Schultz on MSNBC.
I was hoping to find a good book to read this week. I think I have one and I got started this morning but need to pick it up again. I like to read and take great pleasure in a good book but rarely find the time to read. There are just too many distractions it seems. Why am I listening to that screeching McPhee on WRKO? Was it really necessary to put her on with Todd Fineberg? With Todd, at least, you can listen to reasoned discussions on every conceivable topic. I'm not sure that she can stay in the ring with Todd so her debut may be short lived. That is okay with me. Ever since Tommy the felon fell from Grace on the morning show and left to ply his trade with hacks from the past, Todd has been doing a fine job with only an occasional irritation from his sidekick, Cooksie. The less we hear from Cooks, the better.
Assembly Point, LG
18/08/12 08:53
Hay-Zeus. What does it take to pair this puppy? I think you have to remember to touch the actual screen and it gives you a code to enter on the keyboard. I will have to remember that. Not likely.
It is a new year here on the lake. A new season. A new time. It is also time for a new place. Seems the place on Assembly point was available and the price was right. It goes for $3k a week during the summer months but renters, being the savage and unreliable types that they are, pilfered the place and now the gentleman only rents to known entities. While we don't qualify as the latter, my brother does and that was that. We've been coming to Lake George many times over the years if only to use uncle Rollie's boat. It is, after all, where he has been keeping it for the past few years. The house was recently rehabbed after the elderly woman who lived here passed away. In a funny sort of way, I can sense her presence. I too might prefer to take up a post-existence presence in this place given the proximity to the lake and the view from the house. It is truly heaven-sent. And to think that Nancy didn't think that you could even see the lake from the house. Wrong.
The amenities have been heaven sent as well. Everything is new in this house and everywhere we turn there is a new challenge. It took 24-hours to find the WiFi and I would have found it sooner had I looked in the book with all the renter rules. The renter's rule book contains all the do's and don't of staying here on high. Nancy will long tell the story of the dishwasher that was not only not emptied when we arrived but it hadn't been run and there was a rather unpleasant smell emanating from the unit. Trying to figure out how to jump start that darn thing was a chore in and of itself. Who knew that you had to run the faucet in the sink until the water ran hot before it would run properly.
We especially liked the the center cooking island with gas jets; the refrigerator with the external temperature display; the spaciousness of the living quarters; the questionable feng shua; the central air conditioning; the generator which came on during the fierce rain storm on Saturday night; a separate space for Noah and Evan to occupy; bathrooms too numerous to count; varnished wooden floors from wall to wall that creak in surprising places; neighbors that mill about in great numbers and span multiple generations; sounds from the lake that remind us in spades that we are well outside the 5-mph zone; ill defined arrival and departure times; televisions that, while not my cup of tea, brought us sights and sounds of the regional finals of Little League teams across the nation vying for an opportunity to make the annual pilgrimage to Williamsport; and last but not least, Nancy's blueberry crisp which had less crisp than previous years but was nonetheless predictably scrumptious served with vanilla ice cream.
I would hasten to add that the place would not be as attractive to us were it not for the fact that Rollie allows us the use of his boat. It would not be the same if the boys couldn't go water skiing or if we had to take the car into town instead of taking the boat to the village just as night was falling. Fishing our hot spots would be impossible to say the least. Taking in the grandeur of the lake itself would not be possible without a shoreline cruise in areas north of Pilot Knob where the tree line on Buck Mountain is barely visible to the untrained eye. And as much as the boys talk about getting themselves a boat license, they have not managed to either take the time or take the trouble. As such, I like to see to it that they take turns at the wheel just for the experience. It is different from every other type of driving that they do and I do think they enjoy it so that is what we do.
Were it not for that darn little paring knife that we couldn't find at the end of our Assembly Point sojourn we would have put this one in the books as one of the better stays given the brief time we were here. It doesn't matter that New Hampshire took one on the chin in their sudden death tournament against Connecticut in the regional finals leading up the big enchilada in Williamsport, PA. Just file that under "you can't win them all." The only visitor we had during our trip was Rollie and that suited us just fine. We just didn't have time to do much else. The furthest we got into Glens Falls during our stay was Dirty John's Hot Dogs where we had a rather indulgent dinner one evening. While I struggled in choosing between 3 hots and a small order of fries and a greek salad, I only had to ask myself one question. Which went better with an ice cold root beer? And so it was. Did I mention that Rollie took the boys water skiing while I took pictures from the dock? Can't have them go home without pictures to put on their Facebook and Twitter accounts now can I?
Before I forget, a couple of other notables. Gas for the boat at LG Boat Company was $5.05 a gallon. Not sure I've ever paid that much. We didn't have much luck fishing either although you can make the case that fishing in and of itself regardless of what you catch can be therapeutic. Not sure the crayfish and crawlers we hooked were feeling the love but the boys were simply not to be denied. Even if meant that they had to get out of bed at the crack of dawn.
It is a new year here on the lake. A new season. A new time. It is also time for a new place. Seems the place on Assembly point was available and the price was right. It goes for $3k a week during the summer months but renters, being the savage and unreliable types that they are, pilfered the place and now the gentleman only rents to known entities. While we don't qualify as the latter, my brother does and that was that. We've been coming to Lake George many times over the years if only to use uncle Rollie's boat. It is, after all, where he has been keeping it for the past few years. The house was recently rehabbed after the elderly woman who lived here passed away. In a funny sort of way, I can sense her presence. I too might prefer to take up a post-existence presence in this place given the proximity to the lake and the view from the house. It is truly heaven-sent. And to think that Nancy didn't think that you could even see the lake from the house. Wrong.
The amenities have been heaven sent as well. Everything is new in this house and everywhere we turn there is a new challenge. It took 24-hours to find the WiFi and I would have found it sooner had I looked in the book with all the renter rules. The renter's rule book contains all the do's and don't of staying here on high. Nancy will long tell the story of the dishwasher that was not only not emptied when we arrived but it hadn't been run and there was a rather unpleasant smell emanating from the unit. Trying to figure out how to jump start that darn thing was a chore in and of itself. Who knew that you had to run the faucet in the sink until the water ran hot before it would run properly.
We especially liked the the center cooking island with gas jets; the refrigerator with the external temperature display; the spaciousness of the living quarters; the questionable feng shua; the central air conditioning; the generator which came on during the fierce rain storm on Saturday night; a separate space for Noah and Evan to occupy; bathrooms too numerous to count; varnished wooden floors from wall to wall that creak in surprising places; neighbors that mill about in great numbers and span multiple generations; sounds from the lake that remind us in spades that we are well outside the 5-mph zone; ill defined arrival and departure times; televisions that, while not my cup of tea, brought us sights and sounds of the regional finals of Little League teams across the nation vying for an opportunity to make the annual pilgrimage to Williamsport; and last but not least, Nancy's blueberry crisp which had less crisp than previous years but was nonetheless predictably scrumptious served with vanilla ice cream.
I would hasten to add that the place would not be as attractive to us were it not for the fact that Rollie allows us the use of his boat. It would not be the same if the boys couldn't go water skiing or if we had to take the car into town instead of taking the boat to the village just as night was falling. Fishing our hot spots would be impossible to say the least. Taking in the grandeur of the lake itself would not be possible without a shoreline cruise in areas north of Pilot Knob where the tree line on Buck Mountain is barely visible to the untrained eye. And as much as the boys talk about getting themselves a boat license, they have not managed to either take the time or take the trouble. As such, I like to see to it that they take turns at the wheel just for the experience. It is different from every other type of driving that they do and I do think they enjoy it so that is what we do.
Were it not for that darn little paring knife that we couldn't find at the end of our Assembly Point sojourn we would have put this one in the books as one of the better stays given the brief time we were here. It doesn't matter that New Hampshire took one on the chin in their sudden death tournament against Connecticut in the regional finals leading up the big enchilada in Williamsport, PA. Just file that under "you can't win them all." The only visitor we had during our trip was Rollie and that suited us just fine. We just didn't have time to do much else. The furthest we got into Glens Falls during our stay was Dirty John's Hot Dogs where we had a rather indulgent dinner one evening. While I struggled in choosing between 3 hots and a small order of fries and a greek salad, I only had to ask myself one question. Which went better with an ice cold root beer? And so it was. Did I mention that Rollie took the boys water skiing while I took pictures from the dock? Can't have them go home without pictures to put on their Facebook and Twitter accounts now can I?
Before I forget, a couple of other notables. Gas for the boat at LG Boat Company was $5.05 a gallon. Not sure I've ever paid that much. We didn't have much luck fishing either although you can make the case that fishing in and of itself regardless of what you catch can be therapeutic. Not sure the crayfish and crawlers we hooked were feeling the love but the boys were simply not to be denied. Even if meant that they had to get out of bed at the crack of dawn.
Moves and Grooves
04/08/12 07:15
I guess we'll see what happens. It could be chips ahoy for the old schtick. And then what? I'll have to reinvent myself again. Maybe there is a silver lining in all of this. One owes it to oneself to at least consider the possibilities. You can't sit around moping while to world goes on without you. So I have no plans to do that. The future of my team is also on the line. They too must be contemplating their futures. If I were to opine on such things, I would say that some have more options than others. I hope that doesn't come as a surprise to anyone. Futures are fickle things. You can manage them only so far and then they take on a life of their own. Some call it destiny. Others call it life. Putting one foot in front of the other day in and day out until you don't get to do that anymore. Who knows? The stars may well align for me after all. I'll throw a line to my team and they too will be on board. I'll be sure to have a conversation with my friends on this very subject and soon. They've been known to pull a rabbit out of a hat or two in their time. All I'm asking is that life go on uninterrupted. Hopefully, it's not above their pay grade to meddle in such matters.
It is a nice day to make one of my favorite dishes. Looks like we could have a storm so the atmosphere is thick with a wicked blend of hot and cool air masses swirling. Can you tell I've had too much coffee? Anyway, better to be inside than out although Nancy is sitting just outside the screen door doing her notes. I have the eggplant washed and ready to go. I'm making an eggplant parmesan with a healthy does of zucchini and sauteed mushrooms thrown in for good measure. For a change, I'm not going to bake the eggplant slices. Rather, I'll throw them in a pan and saute them until they are soft enough to throw in baking dish. Not sure if this is all going to work and I may have to change plans midstream. Just be prepared, Johnny boy. Don't forget the pasta. It will be the perfect complement to the dish if all goes as planned. One thing is sure with eggplant. It gets all soft at the end of the process so it is difficult to separate the good cooks from the bad cooks when preparing and tasting the dish. Unless, of course, you're working the midnight shift in Hells kitchen which I am not.
I guess we'll see if Noah gets the nod to join us at the lake. It's been two or three years since we've gone as a group. In a year when going was even in question we find ourselves saddling up for another tour. A shorter one, to be sure. In duration, that is. We'll be there for 4 days instead of 7. It is still a 5-hour trip. It is still a trip we can practically make with our eyes closed since we've been doing it for so many years. It almost qualifies as a pilgrimage given the religiousness that we attach not only to the trip itself but to the destination as well. It is, after all, the queen of American lakes. But Noah may have other responsibilities as captain of the soccer team where his parents feel his priorities belong after a long summer when most summer vacations have come and gone. Well, his have come and gone. Just ask Evan. The two of them are just back after a week on Cape Cod. What a life. I'm just not sure how Evan is going to feel if Noah can't make it. He's not done a solo in a long time. And, he doesn't hang with his parents particularly well. I guess we'll know soon enough. For today anyway, Evan and Jeremy have gone over to help Roger Walton move from his house. To think Roger taught Ev to ride his bike as a yout. Payback is a bitch.
It is a nice day to make one of my favorite dishes. Looks like we could have a storm so the atmosphere is thick with a wicked blend of hot and cool air masses swirling. Can you tell I've had too much coffee? Anyway, better to be inside than out although Nancy is sitting just outside the screen door doing her notes. I have the eggplant washed and ready to go. I'm making an eggplant parmesan with a healthy does of zucchini and sauteed mushrooms thrown in for good measure. For a change, I'm not going to bake the eggplant slices. Rather, I'll throw them in a pan and saute them until they are soft enough to throw in baking dish. Not sure if this is all going to work and I may have to change plans midstream. Just be prepared, Johnny boy. Don't forget the pasta. It will be the perfect complement to the dish if all goes as planned. One thing is sure with eggplant. It gets all soft at the end of the process so it is difficult to separate the good cooks from the bad cooks when preparing and tasting the dish. Unless, of course, you're working the midnight shift in Hells kitchen which I am not.
I guess we'll see if Noah gets the nod to join us at the lake. It's been two or three years since we've gone as a group. In a year when going was even in question we find ourselves saddling up for another tour. A shorter one, to be sure. In duration, that is. We'll be there for 4 days instead of 7. It is still a 5-hour trip. It is still a trip we can practically make with our eyes closed since we've been doing it for so many years. It almost qualifies as a pilgrimage given the religiousness that we attach not only to the trip itself but to the destination as well. It is, after all, the queen of American lakes. But Noah may have other responsibilities as captain of the soccer team where his parents feel his priorities belong after a long summer when most summer vacations have come and gone. Well, his have come and gone. Just ask Evan. The two of them are just back after a week on Cape Cod. What a life. I'm just not sure how Evan is going to feel if Noah can't make it. He's not done a solo in a long time. And, he doesn't hang with his parents particularly well. I guess we'll know soon enough. For today anyway, Evan and Jeremy have gone over to help Roger Walton move from his house. To think Roger taught Ev to ride his bike as a yout. Payback is a bitch.
Boothbay Harbor
29/07/12 09:41
What is that smell? After a night out, when his mom is most curious about where he's been, she might steal into his room to see what she can see. Lately, she has been complaining about this smell that he seems to have brought home with him. She has nudged him more than once looking for explanations as to where he's been and maybe just to see if he is at all impaired. Not sure if she has asked him outright about the smell but she certainly should given her concern on the issue. The so-called smell remains a mystery to me since I have not caught even a whiff in passing. I can tell you that were it perfume, pot, or alcohol that I would certainly be familiar with it and it would not easily escape me. Not sure why it is so elusive or subtle but it is nonetheless lost on me. That gives the Mrs little consolation I can tell you. It doesn't help that it goes hand-in-hand with his late night outings. I shall have to Google it. Short of getting an explanation from him, it will continue to be a mystery.
I'd forgotten how nice the scenery was in Boothbay Harbor this time of the year. I suspect that it is equally nice all year around. I might like to go back when the roads are less crowded and the shops more accessible. It reminded me a little bit of New Castle with all the winding roads in and around town with most overlooking harbor views. I imagined just as easily how desolate it must be there in the wintertime and that too appealed to me. We were there but for a night but it was enough. The stops along the way were fun as well. We enjoyed the coffee haunts and local color in downtown Portland; we secured a quart or two of local blueberries at $5 a quart from roadside vendors; we looked at but did not stop at several flea markets along the route; and we walked in and out of several stores before settling on one that appeared to have the most scrumptious fudge. We'll have three quarters of a pound of Rocky Road, please. And, if you don't mind, we'd also like a sliver of the penuche.
Nancy took a walk into town early Saturday morning and bought a potholder with a blueberry pattern and a hat with a rather wide brim to supplement her existing collection of brimmed hats. Sure you don't want to look at shoes while you're here? We stayed in the hotel room just long enough to catch Michael Phelps qualify in a 400 meter heat. He came in 4th later in the day losing to another competitor from the US. There goes his Wheaties endorsement. I'll be following Ashley McKenzie from Great Britain in the Judo competition and hoping he can secure a win. The bicycling events were also interesting to watch and being the underdog rooter that I am I was extremely pleased to see a 38 year-old veteran of the sport edge out the favorite from Great Britain. The dynamics of winning any one or more of these races is fascinating. While there are no guarantees, teams from their respective countries work together to best the competition. I think the cycling world is still trying to figure out how this fellow came out of nowhere to win the gold medal. There will be extra goats milk to go around in the streets of Kazakhstan tonight in celebration of their hometown hero. Cheers! And, long live the Queen!
I'd forgotten how nice the scenery was in Boothbay Harbor this time of the year. I suspect that it is equally nice all year around. I might like to go back when the roads are less crowded and the shops more accessible. It reminded me a little bit of New Castle with all the winding roads in and around town with most overlooking harbor views. I imagined just as easily how desolate it must be there in the wintertime and that too appealed to me. We were there but for a night but it was enough. The stops along the way were fun as well. We enjoyed the coffee haunts and local color in downtown Portland; we secured a quart or two of local blueberries at $5 a quart from roadside vendors; we looked at but did not stop at several flea markets along the route; and we walked in and out of several stores before settling on one that appeared to have the most scrumptious fudge. We'll have three quarters of a pound of Rocky Road, please. And, if you don't mind, we'd also like a sliver of the penuche.
Nancy took a walk into town early Saturday morning and bought a potholder with a blueberry pattern and a hat with a rather wide brim to supplement her existing collection of brimmed hats. Sure you don't want to look at shoes while you're here? We stayed in the hotel room just long enough to catch Michael Phelps qualify in a 400 meter heat. He came in 4th later in the day losing to another competitor from the US. There goes his Wheaties endorsement. I'll be following Ashley McKenzie from Great Britain in the Judo competition and hoping he can secure a win. The bicycling events were also interesting to watch and being the underdog rooter that I am I was extremely pleased to see a 38 year-old veteran of the sport edge out the favorite from Great Britain. The dynamics of winning any one or more of these races is fascinating. While there are no guarantees, teams from their respective countries work together to best the competition. I think the cycling world is still trying to figure out how this fellow came out of nowhere to win the gold medal. There will be extra goats milk to go around in the streets of Kazakhstan tonight in celebration of their hometown hero. Cheers! And, long live the Queen!
Beet Greens
27/07/12 07:15
I'm doing my level best to carve out some vacation time this summer. In anticipation of Evan having a summer job where he was unable to go off with us for our usual Lake George vacation, we did not schedule any time at the lake. Nancy just did not want to go the lake and leave him home alone. But dear, I reminded her as I often do, he is 18 years-old and capable of taking care of himself. I think that is true for the most part and he is a self sufficient lad although I would hasten to add that he does a woeful job of cleaning up after himself. I'm not even sure that I can count on him to turn off the lights and close the doors of the house when he leaves to go wherever he goes. One gets the impression when arriving home at the end of the day that there must have been an emergency of sorts since it looks as though he just dropped everything and left. To tease this notion out just little more, I have stopped making the bed in the morning because he lays in our bed and watches countless hours of god only knows what and then doesn't bother to remake the bed. I just don't know where we went wrong with that boy. Did I mention that he leaves his dishes here, there, and everywhere?
I have to say. That quiche turned out quite nice last night. I had some beet greens from Betsi's garden that I would just not let go to waste. As it was, the greens were probably sitting in our fridge for a day or two more than I would like to admit before I decided to use them but they were fine after a quick rinse. Not sure it was necessary but I deveined them like you would a parcel of shrimp before sauteing with garlic and onions. I'm always amazed by how beet greens cook away to almost nothing but are rich in flavor and melt-in-your mouth delicious once cooked. The recipe I used called for spinach so I arranged for a quick substitution and never looked back. I opted to use more eggs and less milk for a richer consistency and that too turned out to be good decision. I would have preferred crimini mushrooms to the baby bella's that I used but you work with what you have. Only as a last resort would I even consider buying standard mushrooms available most everywhere. They are just too garden-variety and limp away to nothing under the heat when cooked. Just to clarify, I despise using recipes as much as I do following instructions when putting things together but there are certain things one can't fiddle with when cooking. That would be, of course, the temperature of the oven when baking. The "how long" question is another one I might be interested in. Everything else is negotiable.
I really have to work a little harder at finding bargains on the internet before dealing with the local brick and mortar establishments. I ordered a few things from Ebay and Amazon last week and all were bargains in their own right. The oil filter for my car was half the price that I paid recently at a local Advanced Auto Parts. I bought a center hub cap for my Volvo which looked to be a bargain at $8.99. It arrived packed in newspaper inside a small cardboard box. It was definitely not straight from Sweden and the quality was suspect until I opened it and found it to be just fine. It snapped in like it was custom made for the car and I took great satisfaction in finding a reasonably priced solution to a quirky little shortfall in this new used car of mine. That is to say, it was missing one of the four center hubcaps. And all of these lovely purchases ended up on my doorstep without lifting a finger or hearing the actual cha-ching of the cash register. I'm not sure about the treadmill belt in terms of discounts and all but there are definitely not any stores around here to buy that sort of thing. Now I just need to figure out how to install it.
I have to say. That quiche turned out quite nice last night. I had some beet greens from Betsi's garden that I would just not let go to waste. As it was, the greens were probably sitting in our fridge for a day or two more than I would like to admit before I decided to use them but they were fine after a quick rinse. Not sure it was necessary but I deveined them like you would a parcel of shrimp before sauteing with garlic and onions. I'm always amazed by how beet greens cook away to almost nothing but are rich in flavor and melt-in-your mouth delicious once cooked. The recipe I used called for spinach so I arranged for a quick substitution and never looked back. I opted to use more eggs and less milk for a richer consistency and that too turned out to be good decision. I would have preferred crimini mushrooms to the baby bella's that I used but you work with what you have. Only as a last resort would I even consider buying standard mushrooms available most everywhere. They are just too garden-variety and limp away to nothing under the heat when cooked. Just to clarify, I despise using recipes as much as I do following instructions when putting things together but there are certain things one can't fiddle with when cooking. That would be, of course, the temperature of the oven when baking. The "how long" question is another one I might be interested in. Everything else is negotiable.
I really have to work a little harder at finding bargains on the internet before dealing with the local brick and mortar establishments. I ordered a few things from Ebay and Amazon last week and all were bargains in their own right. The oil filter for my car was half the price that I paid recently at a local Advanced Auto Parts. I bought a center hub cap for my Volvo which looked to be a bargain at $8.99. It arrived packed in newspaper inside a small cardboard box. It was definitely not straight from Sweden and the quality was suspect until I opened it and found it to be just fine. It snapped in like it was custom made for the car and I took great satisfaction in finding a reasonably priced solution to a quirky little shortfall in this new used car of mine. That is to say, it was missing one of the four center hubcaps. And all of these lovely purchases ended up on my doorstep without lifting a finger or hearing the actual cha-ching of the cash register. I'm not sure about the treadmill belt in terms of discounts and all but there are definitely not any stores around here to buy that sort of thing. Now I just need to figure out how to install it.
Here, There, and Everywhere
22/07/12 11:49
If I had to characterize the summer thus far I would dub it the summer of the $5 lobster roll. The place out on route 1 with the sign that reads "lob rolls - $5" has become our favorite takeout destination. This is especially true on those oh-so-hot days when we don't care to spend any time whatsoever in the kitchen. The rolls are nicely toasted and contain but a smattering of lettuce; there is not an abundance of lobster but what do you expect for $5; and the lobster is sweet and succulent. There are discernible clumps of lobster claws and other body parts that give even the harshest critics of sub-par lobster roll purveyors something to chew on. In other words, it is not the usual mishmash one might expect from such places where real lobster is hard to find amidst the mayonnaise, celery and lettuce. It is simply a walk-away sensation! Mrs G is a fan as well and joins us more often than not. She and the Mr. have a roll a piece once she gets home and all is well with the world.
Not sure when the piles started but started they did with or without me. Wherever you look there are piles; beside the bed; on the kitchen table; on each of the chairs sitting at the table; in the garage; on and around the washing machines; and those are only the ones I've noticed. They start as individual piles but are soon connecting with other piles. Things once simply strewn about have become more recently knee deep and now forgotten. Funny thing is, the lamenting that goes on when something is missing or cannot be found is endless. All of this, a psychologist might tell you, is a cry for help. I see it as a case of serial disorganization and it leaves me with only two choices. I can battle back and insist that it change or I can give in to these monstrous forces and live someone else's life. It is not as sad as it sounds. The law of entropy says quite clearly that the forces of nature move from order to disorder and I get that. For someone like me who needs more than his share of organization in his life just to ward off the demons, it is a veritable highway to hell. And, if she doesn't stop brining home cooked shrimp I don't know what I'm going to do.
But life goes on. I thank the baby Jesus every day that Al Gore invented the internet and now and I and others around the world enjoy the fruits of his labor. I am particularly grateful for WIFI which introduces an altogether different dimension to my existence. I've come a long way from the days of my childhood in the Adirondack's when I sought refuge beneath the blankets on my bed while listening to my little transistor radio. There is just no comparison. If I want to listen to Czech radio then that is what I'll do. If I want to subject myself to the endless abuse at the hands of those with whom I play Words with Friends, then that is my prerogative. If I want to listen to replays of the Sunday talking heads shows on network television while sitting down to dinner then that option is available to me. If I want to watch a video on how to fix something, and I am definitely not one of those types who follow written directions well, I can watch, listen, and learn. Hell, I have video of the New England Patriots from this season past where they took it on the chin in their final game. I can't replay that often enough. God, I love to hate those bastards.
Not sure when the piles started but started they did with or without me. Wherever you look there are piles; beside the bed; on the kitchen table; on each of the chairs sitting at the table; in the garage; on and around the washing machines; and those are only the ones I've noticed. They start as individual piles but are soon connecting with other piles. Things once simply strewn about have become more recently knee deep and now forgotten. Funny thing is, the lamenting that goes on when something is missing or cannot be found is endless. All of this, a psychologist might tell you, is a cry for help. I see it as a case of serial disorganization and it leaves me with only two choices. I can battle back and insist that it change or I can give in to these monstrous forces and live someone else's life. It is not as sad as it sounds. The law of entropy says quite clearly that the forces of nature move from order to disorder and I get that. For someone like me who needs more than his share of organization in his life just to ward off the demons, it is a veritable highway to hell. And, if she doesn't stop brining home cooked shrimp I don't know what I'm going to do.
But life goes on. I thank the baby Jesus every day that Al Gore invented the internet and now and I and others around the world enjoy the fruits of his labor. I am particularly grateful for WIFI which introduces an altogether different dimension to my existence. I've come a long way from the days of my childhood in the Adirondack's when I sought refuge beneath the blankets on my bed while listening to my little transistor radio. There is just no comparison. If I want to listen to Czech radio then that is what I'll do. If I want to subject myself to the endless abuse at the hands of those with whom I play Words with Friends, then that is my prerogative. If I want to listen to replays of the Sunday talking heads shows on network television while sitting down to dinner then that option is available to me. If I want to watch a video on how to fix something, and I am definitely not one of those types who follow written directions well, I can watch, listen, and learn. Hell, I have video of the New England Patriots from this season past where they took it on the chin in their final game. I can't replay that often enough. God, I love to hate those bastards.
Off to the Cape
21/07/12 08:14
It's a bleeping beautiful day here on the coast of NH. Not a cloud in the sky and the temperatures are cool for the middle of July. I think it was in the forties last night. Just perfect for sleeping. What about that crazy fuck who killed a bunch of people at the midnight premier of "The Dark Knight Rises" somewhere in Colorado. What was he thinking? By all accounts, he was a smart kid with no history of mental illness. How does this sort of thing happen? The libs are predictably using this event as a springboard to reignite efforts to get gun control laws on the books. The presidential politicians presided over a vigil or two in honor of the slain and Barry ordered the flags across the nation to be lowered to half staff. Stumping will no doubt resume in earnest today. Romney and Obama are in a dead heat in any number of the swing states although Obama has a lead where it counts (in the electoral college.) There is a long way to go. Not so for the 12 victims of the Columbine-like massacre.
We're delighted that Evan will be going off to the Cape for a week starting today. I should remind him that when he is in the ocean that he is not at the top of the food chain. I envision he and his friends frolicking in the surf like a bunch of stranded dolphins with Great Whites just offshore thinking the same thing and not knowing any better. As the commotion intensifies the great Whites move into position. There is shrill whistle off in the distance of a lone lifeguard that joins the cacophony of seagulls starting to assemble for what they anticipate will be fine meal once the carnage clears. The water has turned a sandy brown with the churning of the bodies as they push further into the surf. The lifeguard is now on foot closing the distance digging deeper into the sand with each stride. The dorsal fins of the Great Whites break the surface as they move closer to their intended prey in a zigzag pattern just a good stones throw off the shore. In the final moments before what might have been a disastrous outing for the boys, they catch sight and sound of the crowds waving them ashore and emerge from the water with their lives intact. Not a moment too soon to be sure. This dream has a good ending. Stay vigilant, boys.
But you can't tell him anything. She calls out for him. Whaaaaat, mom? It's endless. Did you pack your flip flops? Do you have a beach towel? What about sandals? And, what about a hat? You remember what I've told you about not wearing sun block? The sun will damage your skin, she was quick to remind him. Just for effect, she points to the darkened patch near near the bridge of her nose where they removed a basal cell carcinoma not too long ago. She toyed with the idea of making cookies for the boys for their ride down to the Cape and worried aloud that they might eat the whole lot of them before reaching their destination. She made them anyway. It has been that kind of morning. Not sure who is picking up who but he is still here at the late hour of 12:10 on a Saturday afternoon. His mom wants to take a couple of pictures since his latest haircut is one of the nicer haircuts we've seen in the last couple of years so that is what they will do and then he will be off. It may be too late for a bike ride since we don't much care for baking in the mid day sun while riding. It will just have to wait until later this afternoon. I'll be happy when we get on a more even keel. That may not happen until Evan is on his way. Such is life.
We're delighted that Evan will be going off to the Cape for a week starting today. I should remind him that when he is in the ocean that he is not at the top of the food chain. I envision he and his friends frolicking in the surf like a bunch of stranded dolphins with Great Whites just offshore thinking the same thing and not knowing any better. As the commotion intensifies the great Whites move into position. There is shrill whistle off in the distance of a lone lifeguard that joins the cacophony of seagulls starting to assemble for what they anticipate will be fine meal once the carnage clears. The water has turned a sandy brown with the churning of the bodies as they push further into the surf. The lifeguard is now on foot closing the distance digging deeper into the sand with each stride. The dorsal fins of the Great Whites break the surface as they move closer to their intended prey in a zigzag pattern just a good stones throw off the shore. In the final moments before what might have been a disastrous outing for the boys, they catch sight and sound of the crowds waving them ashore and emerge from the water with their lives intact. Not a moment too soon to be sure. This dream has a good ending. Stay vigilant, boys.
But you can't tell him anything. She calls out for him. Whaaaaat, mom? It's endless. Did you pack your flip flops? Do you have a beach towel? What about sandals? And, what about a hat? You remember what I've told you about not wearing sun block? The sun will damage your skin, she was quick to remind him. Just for effect, she points to the darkened patch near near the bridge of her nose where they removed a basal cell carcinoma not too long ago. She toyed with the idea of making cookies for the boys for their ride down to the Cape and worried aloud that they might eat the whole lot of them before reaching their destination. She made them anyway. It has been that kind of morning. Not sure who is picking up who but he is still here at the late hour of 12:10 on a Saturday afternoon. His mom wants to take a couple of pictures since his latest haircut is one of the nicer haircuts we've seen in the last couple of years so that is what they will do and then he will be off. It may be too late for a bike ride since we don't much care for baking in the mid day sun while riding. It will just have to wait until later this afternoon. I'll be happy when we get on a more even keel. That may not happen until Evan is on his way. Such is life.
Easy Come, Easy Go
16/07/12 20:42
First it was his job. Then it was his wisdom teeth. All four of those puppies. Gone. What's next? Let's back up a little here. He was just four weeks into his first official job. Yeah, he worked as an assistant counselor at that camp in upstate NY but that doesn't really count. He matriculated into that position. He had to apply for the job in downtown Portsmouth and that is what he did. He did it so well, in fact, that he got the position. Maybe it was the tie. How many dishwashers show up for an interview wearing a tie? They probably figured that he was either a nut job or just really wanted the position. In retrospect, when they asked him what hours he wanted to work, he probably should have told them that he was available to work whatever. Instead, with his eye on his social calendar, he volunteered for weekends. Better to keep those weekdays free for hanging with his friends, going to the beach, etc..
So, when the time came to hack the staff due to a lack of business, it was an easy decision. Mr. bow tie had to go. They didn't have the common decency to call him into the office to give him the bad news. They sent him a text. What kind of manager fires his employees by sending them a text? Maybe I'm just out of touch. Ev took it like a man, though. I assured him that he would have many jobs in his lifetime and moving on was not necessarily a bad thing. It seemed to register when he heard the words but I'm not sure he connected the dots in his mind. Some day he will remember my words. One can only hope.
As for his teeth, he complained about them hurting when they were coming in but not much after that. Even the dentist's couldn't agree amongst themselves as to whether or not they had to come out. One said they should come out and the other said it wasn't necessary. It seems like once Evan had it in his head that they had to go it was just a matter of time before they were taken out. He became almost eager to have them out even after they stopped aching. It was the funniest thing. And, not in the ha-ha sense of the word. It was almost as though he wanted to have a good reason to lay in bed for an extended period of time watching television and texting with his friends. Or, maybe he wanted to have his own war stories to share with his buds. Maybe, just maybe, it was a plea for help. If he wanted to extricate himself from that band of bad boys he has been hanging with, it would require something extreme. Something bad enough to take him out of circulation just long enough that they mighht learn to get along without him. He's not saying and we're not asking.
And, what about that guy down at the harbor? The guy who dropped his radio overboard and spent the better part of the next hour imploring boaters and fisherman alike to assist him in his hour of need. It was a spectacle only because word spread quickly and even those who watched from afar either overheard or saw for themselves and pieced it together. I think we overheard one fisherman say that the radio "was toast." Why bother retrieving something that was not likely to work again. And then your imagination takes over. Maybe it belonged to a friend. Maybe this. Maybe that. The boat was not an expensive boat and he may have spent more on the radio than he did on the boat. It was not a pleasant situation in the least and I felt a little bad taking even the slightest enjoyment in the drama that continued to unfold. The woman with him seemed equally embarrassed and helpless at the same time. Never straying far from his side, she was there for morale support but would not be taking the plunge for him or anyone else. Her arms were folded and not lightly. Someone finally handed him a snorkel and mask and he finally slipped into the murky depths to retrieve his radio. Easier said than done. Not sure why he never gave it another go. Maybe it was scarier down there than he thought. Maybe he saw the futility in his actions more clearly beneath the surface and out of earshot of the crowds that had slowly assembled over time at the end of the pier. It was time for us to leave. I suspect he and his woman friend did the same.
So, when the time came to hack the staff due to a lack of business, it was an easy decision. Mr. bow tie had to go. They didn't have the common decency to call him into the office to give him the bad news. They sent him a text. What kind of manager fires his employees by sending them a text? Maybe I'm just out of touch. Ev took it like a man, though. I assured him that he would have many jobs in his lifetime and moving on was not necessarily a bad thing. It seemed to register when he heard the words but I'm not sure he connected the dots in his mind. Some day he will remember my words. One can only hope.
As for his teeth, he complained about them hurting when they were coming in but not much after that. Even the dentist's couldn't agree amongst themselves as to whether or not they had to come out. One said they should come out and the other said it wasn't necessary. It seems like once Evan had it in his head that they had to go it was just a matter of time before they were taken out. He became almost eager to have them out even after they stopped aching. It was the funniest thing. And, not in the ha-ha sense of the word. It was almost as though he wanted to have a good reason to lay in bed for an extended period of time watching television and texting with his friends. Or, maybe he wanted to have his own war stories to share with his buds. Maybe, just maybe, it was a plea for help. If he wanted to extricate himself from that band of bad boys he has been hanging with, it would require something extreme. Something bad enough to take him out of circulation just long enough that they mighht learn to get along without him. He's not saying and we're not asking.
And, what about that guy down at the harbor? The guy who dropped his radio overboard and spent the better part of the next hour imploring boaters and fisherman alike to assist him in his hour of need. It was a spectacle only because word spread quickly and even those who watched from afar either overheard or saw for themselves and pieced it together. I think we overheard one fisherman say that the radio "was toast." Why bother retrieving something that was not likely to work again. And then your imagination takes over. Maybe it belonged to a friend. Maybe this. Maybe that. The boat was not an expensive boat and he may have spent more on the radio than he did on the boat. It was not a pleasant situation in the least and I felt a little bad taking even the slightest enjoyment in the drama that continued to unfold. The woman with him seemed equally embarrassed and helpless at the same time. Never straying far from his side, she was there for morale support but would not be taking the plunge for him or anyone else. Her arms were folded and not lightly. Someone finally handed him a snorkel and mask and he finally slipped into the murky depths to retrieve his radio. Easier said than done. Not sure why he never gave it another go. Maybe it was scarier down there than he thought. Maybe he saw the futility in his actions more clearly beneath the surface and out of earshot of the crowds that had slowly assembled over time at the end of the pier. It was time for us to leave. I suspect he and his woman friend did the same.
A Day Late and a Dollar Short
08/07/12 07:20
His first paycheck was not what he was expecting. To be blunt, it was a few dollars short. And now we have to wonder if he is planning to address this with them. My suggestion would be to tell his supervisor that he thinks he may be missing a check. They must know that he worked more hours than his paycheck seems to cover so it should be easy enough for them to reconcile. Unless, of course, they give him a bill for the burgers and breakfasts they served him. Not if they give him the old chain gang bullshit about charging him for his meals and at the end of any given week he owes them more than they owe him. What are we talking about here, friends?
Evan is a straight shooter but I don't know if he has the gumption to engage them as we think he should. He has a short window of opportunity to set things straight and then it will be gone. His residual resentment will turn to anger and he will forever more distrust the very people who gave him his first real job. If he ever had a desire to do a good job and earn the respect of the people who hired him, I suspect that may wane as well and in short order. All can be set straight by having a conversation today. Don't let it linger. It will eat you alive. Better to man-up and do the right thing. If your employers have any self respect at all, they will do the right thing as well. If they don't, you don't want to be working for them. It's that simple.
We know all too well that Mr G suffers from separation anxiety from time to time. How he survived 3 weeks with the Mrs in the hospital and in rehab we'll never know. We do know that he didn't change his clothes much because he seemed to have the same t-shirt on every time we paid a visit. And now that she is home I think we may have a different sort of issue to deal with. She needs the flexibility to do whatever is necessary to get back her strength and stamina. She has all the reasons in the world to look forward to brighter days. To get back to where she was before she went in for surgery. To take her daily drives. To visit with her friends. To go to Mass on Saturday afternoons. To go shopping when and where she pleases. Unless she works at this rehabilitation business day in and day out, she will wither away.
Early indications are that Mr G is more consumed than ever by his demons and he has a stranglehold on her progress. He is by her side every moment to the point of being saddled. We shall have a better sense in the next week or so when she plans to take daily walks on Park Ridge Lane. You go, girl. What will the Mr do? He never leaves the house so he is unlikely to go with her. Will he prevent her from going? I hope that she is stronger than that. She had this operation for him after all as she is quick to tell anyone who cares to listen. So, who knows. The timing of one's demise is a fickle business. Trying to coordinate that with another person has to be nearly impossible. We will know soon enough what the bejesus they are up to.
The picture this week is from the Post Star - A Lake George storefront.
Evan is a straight shooter but I don't know if he has the gumption to engage them as we think he should. He has a short window of opportunity to set things straight and then it will be gone. His residual resentment will turn to anger and he will forever more distrust the very people who gave him his first real job. If he ever had a desire to do a good job and earn the respect of the people who hired him, I suspect that may wane as well and in short order. All can be set straight by having a conversation today. Don't let it linger. It will eat you alive. Better to man-up and do the right thing. If your employers have any self respect at all, they will do the right thing as well. If they don't, you don't want to be working for them. It's that simple.
We know all too well that Mr G suffers from separation anxiety from time to time. How he survived 3 weeks with the Mrs in the hospital and in rehab we'll never know. We do know that he didn't change his clothes much because he seemed to have the same t-shirt on every time we paid a visit. And now that she is home I think we may have a different sort of issue to deal with. She needs the flexibility to do whatever is necessary to get back her strength and stamina. She has all the reasons in the world to look forward to brighter days. To get back to where she was before she went in for surgery. To take her daily drives. To visit with her friends. To go to Mass on Saturday afternoons. To go shopping when and where she pleases. Unless she works at this rehabilitation business day in and day out, she will wither away.
Early indications are that Mr G is more consumed than ever by his demons and he has a stranglehold on her progress. He is by her side every moment to the point of being saddled. We shall have a better sense in the next week or so when she plans to take daily walks on Park Ridge Lane. You go, girl. What will the Mr do? He never leaves the house so he is unlikely to go with her. Will he prevent her from going? I hope that she is stronger than that. She had this operation for him after all as she is quick to tell anyone who cares to listen. So, who knows. The timing of one's demise is a fickle business. Trying to coordinate that with another person has to be nearly impossible. We will know soon enough what the bejesus they are up to.
The picture this week is from the Post Star - A Lake George storefront.
Tater Salad
03/07/12 06:36
I'm completely losing track of time. That is what happens when the 4th of July falls on a Wednesday. You take random days off from work and the next thing you know you can't tell the weekends from the work days. There is a certain amount of freedom one can take from such arrangements but they are little more than a source of angst for me. I can get back to doing the things that need to be done I suppose. Things that never got done on the weekend. Things that I put off so I could go to the Farmer's Market or some other such silliness. Maybe I was busy visiting the in laws or delivering bologna and tomato sandwiches when I should have been taking out the trash. My own trash, that is.
When we last visited Mrs G, he asked that I help him remove the lid from the potato salad container we bought him. It must have been driving him crazy. I'm surprised he didn't take a knife to the damn thing. We were concerned that he wouldn't like it because we had bought a 2lb container but he tucked it away in the fridge and that was that. I suggested that we take the salad out of the container, put it in a new container, and be done with it and that is what we did. It was interesting that he wanted to make sure that the salad was pressed flat across the top before we put it in the refrigerator. You know, no peaks and that sort of thing. I wanted to say, you're kidding, right? Knowing that his eyesight isn't what it used to be, I assured him that it was looking good and it was safe to store. He seemed to focus momentarily with his good eye and probably decided that he couldn't see well enough to raise a fuss. Not that he would with me anyway. I don't have the patience for such nonsense and he knows that. His bullying would be wasted on me were he to play that card and he would be hard-pressed to replace me this late in the game. I'm afraid we're stuck with each other for better or worse. Have a nice day, Mr. G.
Not sure how Evan got such a nasty case of poison ivy but he has it pretty good or says his momma. It is not on his face but it is across his torso front and back and on his legs and arms. How he found himself rolling in the darn stuff, which is really the only way that he would have been exposed to it the way he was, is beyond me. And, of course, he is not saying. You know how that boy likes to keep things close to the vest. His momma tended to him as a mother does in such situations. She bought a few different ointments and applied them liberally to the affected areas on his body. It reminded me of the patience a hound shows when his owner is puling porcupine quills from his snout with a pair of rusty pliers and a steady tug. All you could hear was an occasional moan that one could take as part pleasure and part pain. I have to imagine as well that working in a hot kitchen with open sores and bubbling pustules of flesh pressing against your steamed kitchen johnnies has to redefine the experience for you. Thank the baby Jesus that he is only working weekends for now.
When we last visited Mrs G, he asked that I help him remove the lid from the potato salad container we bought him. It must have been driving him crazy. I'm surprised he didn't take a knife to the damn thing. We were concerned that he wouldn't like it because we had bought a 2lb container but he tucked it away in the fridge and that was that. I suggested that we take the salad out of the container, put it in a new container, and be done with it and that is what we did. It was interesting that he wanted to make sure that the salad was pressed flat across the top before we put it in the refrigerator. You know, no peaks and that sort of thing. I wanted to say, you're kidding, right? Knowing that his eyesight isn't what it used to be, I assured him that it was looking good and it was safe to store. He seemed to focus momentarily with his good eye and probably decided that he couldn't see well enough to raise a fuss. Not that he would with me anyway. I don't have the patience for such nonsense and he knows that. His bullying would be wasted on me were he to play that card and he would be hard-pressed to replace me this late in the game. I'm afraid we're stuck with each other for better or worse. Have a nice day, Mr. G.
Not sure how Evan got such a nasty case of poison ivy but he has it pretty good or says his momma. It is not on his face but it is across his torso front and back and on his legs and arms. How he found himself rolling in the darn stuff, which is really the only way that he would have been exposed to it the way he was, is beyond me. And, of course, he is not saying. You know how that boy likes to keep things close to the vest. His momma tended to him as a mother does in such situations. She bought a few different ointments and applied them liberally to the affected areas on his body. It reminded me of the patience a hound shows when his owner is puling porcupine quills from his snout with a pair of rusty pliers and a steady tug. All you could hear was an occasional moan that one could take as part pleasure and part pain. I have to imagine as well that working in a hot kitchen with open sores and bubbling pustules of flesh pressing against your steamed kitchen johnnies has to redefine the experience for you. Thank the baby Jesus that he is only working weekends for now.
On the Mend
01/07/12 08:41
The Mrs has long been considered somewhat tone deaf when dealing with her son. No matter what she days, it always seem to come out wrong. The syllables have barely passed her lips and he is on his high horse. He has learned that it is better to react viscerally than to react at all. He is functionally incapable of discerning her motivations and as a universal mother figure she is simply not to be trusted. When she asks about his activities the night prior, what she really wants to know is what girls he was spending his time with. He knows all too well that his mother cares little for the kids he hangs with and nothing can be gained from mentioning even one of their names. She has inadvertently taught him the fine art of lying if for no other reason that to assuage her concerns so he can get on with whatever plans he has. Plans that are better not shared with his mother lest she asks more questions and then more questions after that. The Mrs takes some comfort in her son's lies hoping against hope that there is a kernel of truth to his comments. As always, he skirts the truth and she takes comfort in what little he is willing to give her. In legal terms, I believe that is called plausible deniability. She should be grateful for what little he has to say.
We paid a visit to Mrs G yesterday at the rehab place. She seems well although she complained a bit about the fact that they were pushing medications on her that she didn't think she needed. Take the nebulizer for example. She's never used one in her life and sees no need for one now. They are probably accustomed to patients who take matters into their own hands where their meds are concerned and know how to deal with them. They probably doubled the dose knowing full well that she had every intention of inhaling no more or no less than half the dose prescribed. After all, they don't have the resources to make sure that she follows her instructions to the letter and leaves them to their own devices for better or worse. Like a schoolgirl with a spliff in her bag, she confided in us with a most mischievous look on her face that she takes one puff and then lets another escape before taking another. One has to take their pleasures when and where possible in these places lest you give your soul over to the matrons of the facility. That would not be a good thing. Nurse Ratchet will be making her rounds soon and you don't want to be on her short list. Save that spliff for another day, Mrs G.
Our ride today was predictably gritty. We stayed on the back roads in town to keep out of the sun but the last leg of the trip brought us down by the beaches. Typically, there are far too many cars and people lining the boulevard but sometimes it's like watching a train wreck. You just have to be there to see it for yourself. And, we wouldn't miss it for the world. It is in our backyard after all. We feel fortunate to live where we do and we wouldn't trade it for the world. But I digress. The Grifters were packing the cars that couldn't find a meter into a $15 per-day spot in an open lot within spitting distance of the beach. The surf shop was doing a brisk business under an otherwise cloudless day and the soft drinks and kids carrying them were ever present. You just couldn't ask for a more beautiful pre-fourth-of-July weekend. I seemed to have just an extra little spring in my step today as well and pushed myself hard from time to time. It is just one of those days where you don't give a damn about which direction the wind is blowing or how hard the wind is blowing. Life is good and that is that.
We paid a visit to Mrs G yesterday at the rehab place. She seems well although she complained a bit about the fact that they were pushing medications on her that she didn't think she needed. Take the nebulizer for example. She's never used one in her life and sees no need for one now. They are probably accustomed to patients who take matters into their own hands where their meds are concerned and know how to deal with them. They probably doubled the dose knowing full well that she had every intention of inhaling no more or no less than half the dose prescribed. After all, they don't have the resources to make sure that she follows her instructions to the letter and leaves them to their own devices for better or worse. Like a schoolgirl with a spliff in her bag, she confided in us with a most mischievous look on her face that she takes one puff and then lets another escape before taking another. One has to take their pleasures when and where possible in these places lest you give your soul over to the matrons of the facility. That would not be a good thing. Nurse Ratchet will be making her rounds soon and you don't want to be on her short list. Save that spliff for another day, Mrs G.
Our ride today was predictably gritty. We stayed on the back roads in town to keep out of the sun but the last leg of the trip brought us down by the beaches. Typically, there are far too many cars and people lining the boulevard but sometimes it's like watching a train wreck. You just have to be there to see it for yourself. And, we wouldn't miss it for the world. It is in our backyard after all. We feel fortunate to live where we do and we wouldn't trade it for the world. But I digress. The Grifters were packing the cars that couldn't find a meter into a $15 per-day spot in an open lot within spitting distance of the beach. The surf shop was doing a brisk business under an otherwise cloudless day and the soft drinks and kids carrying them were ever present. You just couldn't ask for a more beautiful pre-fourth-of-July weekend. I seemed to have just an extra little spring in my step today as well and pushed myself hard from time to time. It is just one of those days where you don't give a damn about which direction the wind is blowing or how hard the wind is blowing. Life is good and that is that.
Mugged
23/06/12 07:43
It is one sticky wicket this morning. I'm trying to get back in the groove with by blog-a-roni and the heat isn't helping. It doesn't help that I'm wearing a terry cloth bathrobe that is sticking to my skin like a wet rag. I need to scuttle this puppy and in a hurry before I lose what little motivation I have. The air is absolutely still and it looks like an early mid-summer morning in Gainesville as I look out over my deck. Stay focused, Johnny boy. You can do this. There isn't a soul around to rattle your concentration or a lack of subject matter to prevent you from putting one foot in front of the other. Another sip of coffee. Another random song on the radio. Maybe some nice lounge music from Brazil will get the juices flowing. And maybe I'll have a fistful of blueberries for a healthy dose of antioxidants. My priorities are simply nowhere to be found this morning.
We paid a visit to Nan's mom yesterday at the place in Portsmouth. She was sitting outside when we arrived. It was good to see her taking in a little sunshine. Aside from the bruising on her legs, you would have never known that she had the type of operation that she did. But she was fragile. She was not quite ready to take a ride in car although we offered. At a minimum, we thought it might be nice to take her by to see her husband but that was just not in the cards. I don't know if she feels that she wants to be 100% for her man when she finally returns home or if she thinks that her weakened state might alarm him. We kept reminding ourselves that she is there to get stronger although you wondered if they didn't encourage dependency just to reduce turnover and keep the funds rolling in. We stopped by her house and picked up her iPad before stopping to see her. You know how she loves to play chess on the iPad. When she was finally situated inside with her iPad in her lap and in the privacy of her room, she was so immersed that I'm not sure she knew we were there anymore. Our only concern was that someone might steal her pad and that would be a shame. It is a 1st generation iPad and one that has been near and dear to my heart since I first stood in line at the Apple store some years ago to buy it.
And what about that Volvo? We needed a replacement vehicle for the one that Evan totaled last winter and I've had an eye out. The price had to be right, the condition had to be good, and above all, it had to be a safe vehicle for our son to drive. The weekly circulars in the area always listed a variety of cars but many were from used car lots or some other source that just didn't work. I always felt my best bet would be to take a ride around the hood and see if someone had one sitting in their driveway for sale. And so it was, within the last week, that we were driving down to see Mr. G and on the way there we saw a wagon that was just one year older than our old Volvo. It was in pristine condition and the price was just right. We just couldn't believe our eyes. Nor, could we believe our good luck. For an older car, and one that had a lot of miles, it was a beauty.
If you know anything about Volvo's it is a truism that they hold up well and they run forever. We had it checked out by our local mechanic that services Volvo's and he gave it a thumbs-up. Did I tell you that the car had only been out there for one day when both we and he, the mechanic, stopped by to see the car? He stopped because he services Volvo's and was just curious. We stopped because we were looking for a car. His laughed when my wife called him and asked if he could take a look at it for us. He admitted to stopping by to see it and told us that his first thought after looking at it was, that, "it wasn't going to last long." Good thing we put down a deposit. Evan was impressed as well when he laid eyes on it. He sat behind the wheel and smiled. He even said that he liked the color and we agreed. More so than the color of our old car I think. Gas prices continue to be a concern so I told him that if he were driving locally that he should take my car. Otherwise, he should feel free to take the Volvo. Oh, and Evan, there are no plates on the car so don't take it out just yet.
We paid a visit to Nan's mom yesterday at the place in Portsmouth. She was sitting outside when we arrived. It was good to see her taking in a little sunshine. Aside from the bruising on her legs, you would have never known that she had the type of operation that she did. But she was fragile. She was not quite ready to take a ride in car although we offered. At a minimum, we thought it might be nice to take her by to see her husband but that was just not in the cards. I don't know if she feels that she wants to be 100% for her man when she finally returns home or if she thinks that her weakened state might alarm him. We kept reminding ourselves that she is there to get stronger although you wondered if they didn't encourage dependency just to reduce turnover and keep the funds rolling in. We stopped by her house and picked up her iPad before stopping to see her. You know how she loves to play chess on the iPad. When she was finally situated inside with her iPad in her lap and in the privacy of her room, she was so immersed that I'm not sure she knew we were there anymore. Our only concern was that someone might steal her pad and that would be a shame. It is a 1st generation iPad and one that has been near and dear to my heart since I first stood in line at the Apple store some years ago to buy it.
And what about that Volvo? We needed a replacement vehicle for the one that Evan totaled last winter and I've had an eye out. The price had to be right, the condition had to be good, and above all, it had to be a safe vehicle for our son to drive. The weekly circulars in the area always listed a variety of cars but many were from used car lots or some other source that just didn't work. I always felt my best bet would be to take a ride around the hood and see if someone had one sitting in their driveway for sale. And so it was, within the last week, that we were driving down to see Mr. G and on the way there we saw a wagon that was just one year older than our old Volvo. It was in pristine condition and the price was just right. We just couldn't believe our eyes. Nor, could we believe our good luck. For an older car, and one that had a lot of miles, it was a beauty.
If you know anything about Volvo's it is a truism that they hold up well and they run forever. We had it checked out by our local mechanic that services Volvo's and he gave it a thumbs-up. Did I tell you that the car had only been out there for one day when both we and he, the mechanic, stopped by to see the car? He stopped because he services Volvo's and was just curious. We stopped because we were looking for a car. His laughed when my wife called him and asked if he could take a look at it for us. He admitted to stopping by to see it and told us that his first thought after looking at it was, that, "it wasn't going to last long." Good thing we put down a deposit. Evan was impressed as well when he laid eyes on it. He sat behind the wheel and smiled. He even said that he liked the color and we agreed. More so than the color of our old car I think. Gas prices continue to be a concern so I told him that if he were driving locally that he should take my car. Otherwise, he should feel free to take the Volvo. Oh, and Evan, there are no plates on the car so don't take it out just yet.
A Breather
22/06/12 18:29
We're finally getting a break from the heat. My car air conditioner stopped working the other day just about the time things started getting steamy and it couldn't have come at a worse time. I figure these things happen and jumping up and down is not time well spent. It helped that I didn't have a carload of malcontents or illegal aliens although the latter might have been easier to deal with given that they come from faraway lands where heat and high humidity is a constant. Nonetheless, I was counting my blessings that it wasn't hotter than it was and by the time I reached the shore I was rolling down the window and breathing easy. Well, easier anyway.
And another week goes by the boards. Not sure what I have to show for it other than a paycheck and a planted garden but I'm glad it's over. I finally saw Evan for the first time in a week since he is fast asleep when I leave in the morning and gone when I get home. Such is a working man's existence I suppose. It may even help that he is less than honest when questioned about his whereabouts. He tells us that he is out with some girls and the Mrs. is good with the world. He tells us that he is smoking crack with his buds and we laugh at his sick sense of humor. The Mrs. even stayed up one night and trailed him by a stride or two as he made his way to his bedroom hoping to catch a telltale whiff of god only knows what. A mother's nose never lies.
I really should get over to visit Mrs G at the rehab joint. Not sure what she thinks about the fact that I haven't paid a visit but she is a reasonable woman and I trust her not to be too critical or too offended. I'm told that it is a depressing place but I'm guessing that those are just first impressions by someone unfamiliar with the landscape. You probably need to check or suspend one thing or another at the door when you arrive so that is what I'll do. Maybe it's a guy thing but I'm put off by funky scents. I want my word smelling rosy and sweet and nothing short of that will do. I worry a little bit about what I might be walking in to. And sometimes, the stuff they spray to hide the smell is worse than the smell itself. I still remember the time as a 4th or 5th grader when we went on a field trip to a local vets and I damn near fainted when I walked through the doors. That smell, medicinal as it was, was overpowering and I had a considerably difficult time processing it. It just wasn't happening. To this day, I remember that scent and can recall it at will.
And another week goes by the boards. Not sure what I have to show for it other than a paycheck and a planted garden but I'm glad it's over. I finally saw Evan for the first time in a week since he is fast asleep when I leave in the morning and gone when I get home. Such is a working man's existence I suppose. It may even help that he is less than honest when questioned about his whereabouts. He tells us that he is out with some girls and the Mrs. is good with the world. He tells us that he is smoking crack with his buds and we laugh at his sick sense of humor. The Mrs. even stayed up one night and trailed him by a stride or two as he made his way to his bedroom hoping to catch a telltale whiff of god only knows what. A mother's nose never lies.
I really should get over to visit Mrs G at the rehab joint. Not sure what she thinks about the fact that I haven't paid a visit but she is a reasonable woman and I trust her not to be too critical or too offended. I'm told that it is a depressing place but I'm guessing that those are just first impressions by someone unfamiliar with the landscape. You probably need to check or suspend one thing or another at the door when you arrive so that is what I'll do. Maybe it's a guy thing but I'm put off by funky scents. I want my word smelling rosy and sweet and nothing short of that will do. I worry a little bit about what I might be walking in to. And sometimes, the stuff they spray to hide the smell is worse than the smell itself. I still remember the time as a 4th or 5th grader when we went on a field trip to a local vets and I damn near fainted when I walked through the doors. That smell, medicinal as it was, was overpowering and I had a considerably difficult time processing it. It just wasn't happening. To this day, I remember that scent and can recall it at will.
Father's Day 2012
17/06/12 15:22
What is it with this font? And, I can't seem to get that slideshow to work from the new site. It's all very perplexing. It's 3 in the afternoon and I shouldn't be fiddling with this shit at this late hour. As I sit here on a sunny Sunday afternoon the family is paying a visit to Mrs G who is well along her way after having open heart surgery. It's hard to say whether she thinks it was the right thing to do or not. She seems to have some misgivings about the decision but can carry on now with the mission she accepted long ago to love and care for her man "until death do they part." It was probably just a cheap line in a swanky ceremony before they hit the road for a week of pure marital bliss somewhere in a faraway land. And then it got lost in the translation over the years as headier tasks like raising children and putting meals on the table became paramount in an otherwise pedestrian existence. Only when faced with their own mortality and the possibility of losing a lifelong mate came to the forefront in recent months was it necessary to contemplate decisions such as this. Surely, one will go before the other. It is an otherwise immutable law of nature. And as they've planned their course from the day they married, they will now plan their respective departures to honor one or the other to their final day. One doesn't have to ask Mrs G why she had the surgery. She is quick to tell you that she did it for her husband. What is left unsaid, but certainly understood, is that she did not do it for herself, her children or grandchildren, or even the future. She did it for her husband. Now I understand.
I've avoided looking at the election outcome in Greece today. I can tell you that we had dinner at a little greek restaurant the other night and I was sorely tempted to ask the owner for his opinion on how he thought it might go. I finally decided that that would be like asking a black person for their opinion on the death of Rodney King. Like a black person might have some extra insight or appreciation for the man and his history that might otherwise elude the white folk. I can say with all honesty that I can't imagine being dragged out of a truck and beaten to within an inch of my life just because I'm a white man. Then again, I never had occasion to drive thru Selma Alabama at the height of the race riots back in the 60's. Besides, I was much too young. Rodney was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. That happens to everybody from time to time. And of all the people to interview in the wake of Rodney's untimely demise, CNN phoned the inimitable Jesse Jackson. Of all the assholes in the world that they could have called, they dropped a dime to hear what he had to say. He wasted no time linking the death of Rodney King to the heroes before him who sacrificed their lives to further the cause of civil rights. I'm all for equal rights but not when they are espoused by media pimps like Jesse Jackson. He's selling Jesse Jackson and only Jesse Jackson. Just ask Martin Luther King.
I've avoided looking at the election outcome in Greece today. I can tell you that we had dinner at a little greek restaurant the other night and I was sorely tempted to ask the owner for his opinion on how he thought it might go. I finally decided that that would be like asking a black person for their opinion on the death of Rodney King. Like a black person might have some extra insight or appreciation for the man and his history that might otherwise elude the white folk. I can say with all honesty that I can't imagine being dragged out of a truck and beaten to within an inch of my life just because I'm a white man. Then again, I never had occasion to drive thru Selma Alabama at the height of the race riots back in the 60's. Besides, I was much too young. Rodney was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. That happens to everybody from time to time. And of all the people to interview in the wake of Rodney's untimely demise, CNN phoned the inimitable Jesse Jackson. Of all the assholes in the world that they could have called, they dropped a dime to hear what he had to say. He wasted no time linking the death of Rodney King to the heroes before him who sacrificed their lives to further the cause of civil rights. I'm all for equal rights but not when they are espoused by media pimps like Jesse Jackson. He's selling Jesse Jackson and only Jesse Jackson. Just ask Martin Luther King.
Shucks
16/06/12 07:05
Whoever said that the world is your oyster probably didn't have to shuck the damn thing first. On the way to nirvana bad things can happen. You can cut yourself. You can get a bad oyster. You can gross out your companions at the table by slurping too loudly and licking your lips as each one goes down the hatch. Deep fat-frying frying those little bastards is probably the way to go. Straight to hell, that is. One thing leads to another and the next thing you know you're waking up in the ER with nasty case of heart disease. But I digress. Point is, our neighbor called this weekend on the pretense of wanting to practice her sales pitch and she ended up selling the Mrs. a selection of knives. In the process, or on the way to nirvana, she not only cut herself but she cut the Mrs. as well. But you do what you can to further the ambitions of your neighbors children and taking a slice or two for the team is a small price to pay. I'm guessing they would do the same for our son given half a chance. Funny thing is, the young woman showing up at our house yesterday bore little resemblance to the child I remember running around the hood as a yout. Her skirt was way too short (maybe not for my tastes), had tattoos for all the world to see, was somewhat promiscuous in her presentation, and bore telltale scars of an inexperienced knife purveyor. She said she had two promotions on her first three weeks on the job. I wish her well.
Our hummingbird feeders are working well this year but not all feeders are created equal. The one outside our bedroom window, for example, is hummingbird central. Those little bastards are there 24-7. Who knew? I thought birds slept at night. Guess again. The one off the back porch is an unmitigated disaster. Some ferrel creature keeps draining the damn thing each night. My guess would be that we have a deer in the hood that has cultivated a taste for the sugar water and it keeps coming back for more. Maybe we should put the equivalent of ex-lax in the water and see what happens. Chances are they wouldn't make the connection and they would come around anyway. I even tried to put something in front of the feeder to see if that might help. Not so much. And then there is the feeder that never gets any action. We've come a long way from having no birds at the feeders and that is not lost on the Mrs.. Just a few more tweaks here and there and her seasonal role in assisting these migratory thimble-sized creatures will be complete. And then they will be gone.
We have a man coming to look at the air conditioner today in Ev's room. There are things around the house that I don't feel up to tackling and replacing the air conditioner is one of them. I think it was built into the wall when the house was built in the seventies. It has never worked well and in recent years has not worked at all. It is more of an eyesore than anything and when your appliances get to that point they lose their utility so to speak. I would care if I tried to do it and the damn thing fell to the ground. I worry about getting it out and not being able get the new one back in. What then, Johnny boy? There may be some structural damage to the wall as well and that is definitely outside my comfort zone. What the hell. If this guy is as good as advertised I may just offer him room and board until I have everything fixed that needs fixing. I have to be careful about that. I am capable of doing some things for god's sake. Besides, I like the sense of self-satisfaction that goes along with getting the job done. Every man reaches his own personal equilibrium when it comes to that sort of thing. This man is no different.
Our hummingbird feeders are working well this year but not all feeders are created equal. The one outside our bedroom window, for example, is hummingbird central. Those little bastards are there 24-7. Who knew? I thought birds slept at night. Guess again. The one off the back porch is an unmitigated disaster. Some ferrel creature keeps draining the damn thing each night. My guess would be that we have a deer in the hood that has cultivated a taste for the sugar water and it keeps coming back for more. Maybe we should put the equivalent of ex-lax in the water and see what happens. Chances are they wouldn't make the connection and they would come around anyway. I even tried to put something in front of the feeder to see if that might help. Not so much. And then there is the feeder that never gets any action. We've come a long way from having no birds at the feeders and that is not lost on the Mrs.. Just a few more tweaks here and there and her seasonal role in assisting these migratory thimble-sized creatures will be complete. And then they will be gone.
We have a man coming to look at the air conditioner today in Ev's room. There are things around the house that I don't feel up to tackling and replacing the air conditioner is one of them. I think it was built into the wall when the house was built in the seventies. It has never worked well and in recent years has not worked at all. It is more of an eyesore than anything and when your appliances get to that point they lose their utility so to speak. I would care if I tried to do it and the damn thing fell to the ground. I worry about getting it out and not being able get the new one back in. What then, Johnny boy? There may be some structural damage to the wall as well and that is definitely outside my comfort zone. What the hell. If this guy is as good as advertised I may just offer him room and board until I have everything fixed that needs fixing. I have to be careful about that. I am capable of doing some things for god's sake. Besides, I like the sense of self-satisfaction that goes along with getting the job done. Every man reaches his own personal equilibrium when it comes to that sort of thing. This man is no different.
Have a Heart
13/06/12 19:41
Whoever said moving a blog was easy? And, did I tell you that Mrs G had heart bypass surgery yesterday? She resisted for as long as possible but finally determined that for the sake of her ailing husband she ought to have it done and have it done without delay. And so she did. At the age of 81 it had to be a very difficult decision. You figure that your date with the baby Jesus is imminent at that age yet the force of nature demands that you not give up. It helps if your husband needs a helping hand around the house and hasn't driven a car for the better part of the last five years. If I had to guess, I might even go so far as to say he doesn't have a clue when it comes to running the dishwasher. We're there with a helping hand if he needs it but thus far he has shown great resiliency in the face of the calamity that surrounds him. It helps that his dear wife is out of sight as the very sight of her might well frighten or at least singe his fragile sense of reality. We keep him apprised of all the milestones and he is appreciative and thankful knowing that she will return to his side before long. When offered the chance to speak to him on the phone from her hospital bed she politely declined. Her voice was raspy and hoarse from the tubes that had been inserted into her throat and while they have since been removed her voice has not fully recovered. She knows her husband well enough to know that speaking to him in a voice almost unrecognizable might well cause him discomfort and angst. Better to wait for another day.
The Junior prom has come and gone. Evan attended both the Portsmouth and St. Thomas proms and seemed to enjoy himself. His mom helped with the wardrobe and saw to it that he had everything he needed to make the occasion(s) just perfect. I hope to post pictures in the slideshow section so keep an eye out. Did I tell you that he also picked up a job in a restaurant in downtown Portsmouth? He had it in his mind to get a job at this particular place and he set about to do just that. They had him go in for a stint on Friday night to see if he was okay with the work and 7 hours later he was ready to go home. What seemed to delight him more than anything was the fact that the chef cooked him a burger to order. One of the best he's ever had or so he said. And he is finicky enough about food that any such praise coming out of his mouth should not be taken lightly. Now we're waiting for them to call back and give him a schedule. We can then start to fret about transportation issues and the like. I'm of the mind that a boy his age needs a car but his mom and I are strangely enough not on the same page. I remind her that she can certainly feel free to make her way downtown after one or more shifts that end close to midnight but I will not be making that trip. And, it bears repeating, she gets up even earlier than I do to go to work.
It seems that I tell Ev very year at this time to "finish strong." The reference is to his school work and his studies specifically. I only find that it is worth repeating because he usually finishes anything but strong. Maybe if I said nothing he might be more inclined to stay on track. I'm running out of time to say that though since he is going into his senior year. It was a good thought, Johnny boy. I'll save my laments about his eating habits for a later blog. For today anyway, he has one last test at school and he and Noah will be going up to the lake house. There they will stay and party the night away with others of their ilk willing and wanting to celebrate yet another year gone by the boards.
The Junior prom has come and gone. Evan attended both the Portsmouth and St. Thomas proms and seemed to enjoy himself. His mom helped with the wardrobe and saw to it that he had everything he needed to make the occasion(s) just perfect. I hope to post pictures in the slideshow section so keep an eye out. Did I tell you that he also picked up a job in a restaurant in downtown Portsmouth? He had it in his mind to get a job at this particular place and he set about to do just that. They had him go in for a stint on Friday night to see if he was okay with the work and 7 hours later he was ready to go home. What seemed to delight him more than anything was the fact that the chef cooked him a burger to order. One of the best he's ever had or so he said. And he is finicky enough about food that any such praise coming out of his mouth should not be taken lightly. Now we're waiting for them to call back and give him a schedule. We can then start to fret about transportation issues and the like. I'm of the mind that a boy his age needs a car but his mom and I are strangely enough not on the same page. I remind her that she can certainly feel free to make her way downtown after one or more shifts that end close to midnight but I will not be making that trip. And, it bears repeating, she gets up even earlier than I do to go to work.
It seems that I tell Ev very year at this time to "finish strong." The reference is to his school work and his studies specifically. I only find that it is worth repeating because he usually finishes anything but strong. Maybe if I said nothing he might be more inclined to stay on track. I'm running out of time to say that though since he is going into his senior year. It was a good thought, Johnny boy. I'll save my laments about his eating habits for a later blog. For today anyway, he has one last test at school and he and Noah will be going up to the lake house. There they will stay and party the night away with others of their ilk willing and wanting to celebrate yet another year gone by the boards.