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1月2日 100 Word Challenge Part IIIt all started with Velvet Verbosity and her 100 word challenge on 'Christmas Spirit'. Now it has passed to Woman Remodeled, who has chosen for her 100 word challenge - Holiday Nostalgia.
I tried to write this out as a simple story, but once again I seem to have gotten myself stuck in one of those Rhyme-Time cycles. Hopefully it will clear with a dose of Motrin or a silver bullet.
100 Words On Holiday Nostalgia – Oh Christmas Tree
I think that I shall never see
A Christmas like when I was wee,
Mother and father would fight all night long
To stand right the tree, whose base was all wrong.
No matter the time spent looking over the crop
To find the best tree at the Christmas tree shop,
Once it was picked and in our abode
All the fun for my parents seemed to erode.
Cutting, chopping and sawing at it
They’d curse up a storm, so mad they could spit,
Today looking back, we all laugh with delight
Thinking of those long ago Christmas Eve nights.
© 2008 12月31日 Hogmanay Haiku“New Year's Eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the universe, no breathless moment of silence among created things that the passage of another twelve months may be noted; and yet no man has quite the same thoughts this evening, that come with the coming of darkness on other nights”
~Hamilton Wright Mabie
“Drop the last year into the silent limbo of the past. Let it go, for it was imperfect, and thank God that it can go.”
~Brooks Atkinson
“An optimist stays up until midnight to see the New Year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves.”
~Bill Vaughn
Happy Hogmanay to you all!
~Hogmanay Haiku~
Finally it’s here
The end of a crappy year-
So goodbye to you
I can’t rightly say
You were good in any way-
So goodbye to you
Hoping the New Year
Will be much more bright and clear-
So goodbye to you
Midnight I’ll be there
To watch your end and declare-
So goodbye to you
It will be so good
For you, the scythe and the hood-
So goodbye to you
Hoping that next year
This same song I will not cheer-
So goodbye to you
12月28日 Haiku Friday- X-mas Story
I got the idea from Siobhan, and thanks to sarcasticmom, I know now the path to that part of the misty realm of the blogiverse it originated from. So for better or worse, here is my bumbled start:
~ X-mas Story~
Perfect tree is found
Adorned and made the homes heart -
The curb awaits you
Cookies baked with love
A rich delight to my eyes -
My waist now hates me
Gifts wrapped with great care
Family is all gathered -
Paper torn and tossed
Gifts are all given
Joyful sounds are now faded -
Sorrow comes by mail.
12月17日 100 Word Challenge - Christmas SpiritThe one really good thing about NabloPoMo, was that I got to meet a lot of new people that I might have never tripped over of my own accord; one of those is Velvet Verbosity who has posted ‘The Velvet Verbosity 100 word challenge – Christmas Spirit’.
I decided to do it on the actual ‘Spirit’ of the season, as it applies to me.
I may be a little late getting started here, but what the heck.
The Promise
Uncommon star that had appeared so very long ago
To herald in a brand new age to make on high, the very low
A promise made within the dawn to those destined to fail
That one day Grace would flow to all, within a babies wail.
The Angels, although mighty, could not themselves convey the word
To hearts that had turned cold and hard, against old prophesies they once heard
But wise men looking to the skies for the sign that they did know
Would guide them to the outstretched hand of God, set in a manger low.
© 2007 12月16日 Castle In The Sky
12 December 07 \ 13:09: Inner core temperature drop sensed.
Outer shell temperature increase of 5 degrees also noted.
14:48: Propulsion systems start to experience catastrophic cascade
failure.
15:36: Emergency power at maximum; but unsustainable.
18:14: Warp containment is at critical mass, communications are
garbled and unintelligible, Life Support seems to be all but depleted.
18:30: On nothing more than the proverbial ‘Wing and a prayer’,
docking procedures are finally completed.
Garbled transmission to command center:
‘Honey………….I’m Sicky!
We have had the black quarantine flag flying over our house for almost a month now. Three days after Thanksgiving, my wife came down with a nasty combination of grievous maladies that had her at home and off her feet for about a week, and only with the help of mystical pharmaceuticals, was she able to once again join the ranks of the miserably employed.
One week later found me, near the end of my workday, suddenly feeling that inner chill that can only mean one thing: Throat lozenges and Nyquil will be my main staples for the next day or two. I’m not one to call in sick because I don’t want to go into work, but when I get sick, even the slightest bit; I make sure I stay home. I hate it when people ‘tuff it out’ and go to work because they are (please choose any that apply):
If you chose #5, then you are correct.
I can truly empathize with #1; I have been there as a child watching a parent struggle with that dilemma and also as an adult, when I was in the hourly workforce. I may get angry and not like it one bit, but I also cannot fault their decision to go to work.
Everyone else automatically falls into the #5 category.
All you #2’s out there; I don’t care if you are Gods gift to the corporation, you come into work sick makes you a jackass. Hey all you #3’s; If you are looking for a spotlight to be placed on you from on high, trust me, when everyone else is out sick and you are remembered as being ‘Patient Zero’, you will have more spotlight on you than you would ever care for.
And you #4’s, please remember that the old adage rings true: ‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder’.
When I get sick, I usually blow it off in a day or two at the max. I attribute this to strong Celtic genes, the proper usage of miraculous healing waters and oatmeal cookies. However, even the best preventive maintenance will still see breakdowns occur, such as is the case now. I have a sore throat that is making its way into my ears, a fever and a cough that even when I can find a comfortable moment to doze off, prevents me from doing just that. My dreams have been very strange and forgotten at the moment of consciousness, with the exception that the underlying theme seems to be about twos; One being good and the other being tainted.
The one dream I do remember was not so much a dream as a fusion between real and unreal.
Let me explain:
The other night I was watching the 400th item on TV since I was quarantined to the bedroom. Reading was too much a chore and writing was totally out of the question, so the ‘Sucker of Souls’ was the only thing available to me that I would not need to work at (except for the remote, and I was still man enough to be able to do that). The movie was ‘Jack and the beanstalk; the true story’, which turned out to be an enjoyable movie. The very short of it is that a modern day descendant of the original stalk climber, must return the gifted goose and the magic harp back to the land where it came from, in order to lift a fatal family curse. As all good movies go, Jack succeeds in his quest and everyone lives happily ever after.
Sometime during the night while once again enveloped inside a dream, I was struggling with this problem: If the goose that lays the golden eggs and the magical harp were returned to the magical castle in the sky, as I know they were, why is it that my throat still hurts?
It seemed like the entire night saw me struggling with this perplexing mystery.
© 2007 12月9日 Over The River & Through The Woods
“The automobile… is ideally suited for our vast landscape and our generally confused and contrary commuting patterns.” ~Brock Yates
"Commuter -- one who spends his life in riding to and from his wife.” ~Elwyn Brooks White
“If a picture is worth a thousand words, why do we still need to explain to people what they’re of?” ~Rocas
MY DAILY COMMUTE – A PHOTO ESSAY
2:01:00 am - (YES; A.M. (Latin: Ante Meridiem; English: Way too F’ing early)), the alarm clock sounds
2:01:25 am - The (pre-flight across the room) alarm clock
2:10 am - Enjoying a rousing cup of joe
2:20 am - The invigorating shower (I can hardly contain myself)
2:55 am – Dressed and packed, my trusty chariot springs to life (at least one of does)
2:57 am – All charged up & ready to go; ‘Atomic batteries to power, Turbines to speed’
2:57 am – Around the corner and on my way. Only 112 more miles to go!
3:05 am – 10 miles of sleepy local road like this until I reach the highway.
3:20 am – At last, the 1st highway link
3:25 am – My morning stop to top off the tank, but where is the attendant???
Oh, there he is! We are all a lively bunch at this hour of the A.M.
3:30 am – Back on the road. This sign seems to be as surprised as I am to see some jackass on the road at this hour.
A highway; yes. Smooth sailing; no. My morning battle with windmills begins. This one is named ‘Zorn – Destroyer of Hope’
4:00 am – 40 miles from home and finally on the ‘super’ highway.
4:10 am – 50 miles from home and I enter Pennsyltucky.
4:35am – The Philly skyline. Trust me; asleep at the wheel at 65 miles an hour – this is as good as it’s going to get!
As you can see by all the ‘Z’s’, the city is as asleep as I am.
4:55 am – I finally enter Delaweird.
5:10 am – Finally at work
5:15 am - All fired up and ready to begin my workday.
Lots of top secret stuff happens here, so I can’t show you – but this is the end result:
The Saturn Sky
The Opel GT
The Pontiac Solstice (as you can see, there are a few bugs to work out on this model)
2:00 pm – A good days work & happy that it is done with, I’m ready to head back to the ranch.
2:05 pm – A different route home: directly from Delaweird to Joisey (no toll on the bridge heading north)
2:10 pm – Back over the bridge to the land that won the Civil War.
A view from the bridge
I am welcomed home and my 67 mile trek on this highway leg begins
This is a pretty, tree lined highway that is just so B O R I N G!. It’s just a good thing that I am already asleep.
And there is a lot of this going on too. The Governor has promised to have all of Joisey paved over by 2012.
The next highway to take and only 40 miles left to go.
This is the best part; I have thus far traveled 100 miles with no issues, but this small part is only 60 feet from my exit and will take me 5-10 minutes to get through.
Finally!!!
4:25 pm – 225 miles and 14 ½ hours later, I am back where I started.
8:00 pm – You would think that after a full day of semi-consciousness and ass dragging, that NOW would be a good time to sleep!!!
Welcome to my world.
11月30日 Oh, De Doo-Da Day“We shall neither fail nor falter; we shall not weaken or tire...give us the tools and we will finish the job.”
~Winston Churchill
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in, forget them as soon as you can…”
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
“My therapist told me the way to achieve true inner peace is to finish what I start. So far today, I have finished 2 bags of M&M's and a chocolate cake. I feel better already.”
~Dave Barry
NaBloPoMo (sung to the tune of ‘Camptown Races)
NaBloPoMo’s done today
Doo-da, Doo-da,
I’m happy cuz I got nothing more to say,
Oh, de doo-da day
Not gunna blog the next day,
Nope, no fucking way,
I’m not gunna write for at least a week
Just on my couch I’m gunna lay.
A lot of new friends I have met
Doo-da, Doo-da,
So doing this insane thing I don’t regret,
Oh, de doo-da day
But for everything must come a time,
When the final bell must chime,
And so now I end this farewell song
As I have run out of things that rhyme.
11月29日 NovemberThe bleak sky darkened, and all about a great melancholy arose, The dark sky fell unto the earth, and became a murder of crows. A curtain black was moving slow; its shroud drew ever near, Its dreary rain consumed all warmth; the land shrank back in fear.
Trees stood empty and unadorned; they’d conceded without a fight, Against the wind that would precede, the soon to come cold winters might. The color that had burst upon the land, and painted rich a canvas bloom, Had bled away into the ground to leave it stark, and grey with gloom.
The damp air had embraced the earth, with a dank smell of decay, It seemed all life had traveled on, never again to come this way. With nothing more that they could claim, once again wing and sky did meet, The murder of crows ascended high, its hunger now replete.
11月28日 The Word for Today Is:The word for today is:
Fubar [foo-bahr] adjective Slang.
– originally attributed to WWII military as a re-interpretation of the German word ‘Furchtbar’ meaning terrible, This is an acronym meaning – Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition. Politically correct definition: not working; completely messed up; bungled; confused.
Example:
‘Today when Rocas looked in the mirror after a whopping 2.5 hours sleep, he couldn’t help but think that the creature that stared back at him was fubar.’
Other examples include (but are not limited to):
‘My sleep is fubar.’
‘My commute is really fubar.’
‘My work is fubar.’
‘My income is fubar.’
‘My sanity is fubar.’
The word for tomorrow will be: Jackass
© 2007 11月27日 Passage“As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters”
~Solomon Ibn Gabirol
The mother-daughter relationship is the most complex.
~Wynonna Judd
Many a man wishes he were strong enough to tear a telephone book in half - especially if he has a teenage daughter. ~Guy Lombardo
Twenty one years ago today, my Thanksgiving dinner was interrupted by the birth of our first child; DD (codename: Daughter of Darkness). It was a hard labor that lasted 17 hours (due to her facing up, instead of down), and only ended after the doctors decided it was time to perform a C-Section. Her difficult entry in to the world would serve as a lifelong model of what raising her would be like. She became the proverbial teenager at about eight years of age and is the major reason both I and my wife need to color our hair. We used to call her our Ms. Hyde because to every other living soul out side of the house, she was the sweetest person you could ever meet and these people would not hesitate to tell us so. My wife and I would look at each other and think, ‘who are these people talking about?’ , but when she got home; well let me put it this way, I was always looking out the window to see if the Exorcist was outside looking for our house.
She has mellowed quite a bit in her ‘old age’, but she can still put us through the ringer when she wants to. But she is a good kid and keeps on the straight and narrow when it comes to all those things that parents fear for their children about. She is a pretty good student, has many friends and a boyfriend that both my wife and I ADORE. With all that said, I can’t imagine not having her in my life, and even though from time to time, we might not like her so much, we always love her.
The head thumping that was always the norm between her and my wife (I usually took the boy and the dog and made for the high country), has decreased considerably. I do not believe it will ever go away completely, but then again she wouldn’t be our DD.
Happy 21st birthday hon
DD; no matter how old you get or whatever mood you happen to be in, this is the way I will ALWAYS see you in my heart.
© 2007 11月26日 Leftovers“There is no sincerer love than the love of food.” ~George Bernard Shaw
“My favorite meal is turkey and mashed potatoes. I love Thanksgiving, it's just my favorite. I can have Thanksgiving all year round.”
~Cindy Margolis “Thanksgiving, man. Not a good day to be my pants.”
~Kevin James Four days down and by my calculations, another two days to go.
The end of NaBloPoMo?
I wish.
No; two days from now will mark the end of the Thanksgiving holiday leftovers, and this will be a sad day indeed.
I love leftovers, and Thanksgiving is the ‘High Holy Day’ for those who celebrate Leftoverism, and being a lifelong leftoverist, I love it when there is something to go into the refrigerator for the next day. Don’t get me wrong, I love food when it comes out for its first run performance, and I do realize that not everything is as good (or even good at all), for a second curtain call, but for me, most of what I enjoy is as good or even better as time goes by. Homemade Soups, stews, meat pies and chili are the most widely accepted foods to get better with a little age; fish, salads and spaghetti; not so much.
Haggis isn’t good at anytime.
Thanksgiving, has the best food for not only multiple day enjoyment, it’s also the best in many different manifestations; turkey sandwiches of many different incarnations (lets face it, you have a lot of material to work with), turkey chili, turkey soup, turkey this and turkey that. And while my family does enjoy leftovers, they are not as strong as I am when it comes to multiple night outings; they usually can’t take it for more than one time, and that means more for me.
We’re not even talking about all the pies and cookies that await us for days to come. I do take pleasure in these, but I look at them more as ‘decoy’ food; knowing that at some point someone else may actually think about re-sampling the turkey feast, I can always count on them changing their minds to a more leaner meal after I remind them of all the ‘goodies’ that still await. I never deny my family, but I’m not above chicanery either.
While going to someone else’s home for Thanksgiving is always nice; in that you don’t have to worry about all the preparation that goes with it, the leftoverist on the other hand, pays for it dearly; a doggie bag just doesn’t cut it.
When it comes to having Thanksgiving in my own home, I can be assured of the bounty that will follow for many days thereafter.
For a Leftoverist, that’s something to be thankful for.
© 2007 11月25日 If Timing Is Everything; Then I have Nothing - Part II: Son Of A Bitch“Defeat - For every winner there are dozens of losers. Odds are you're one of them.”
~Larry Kersten
“If at first you don’t succeed, failure may be your style”
~Quentin Crisp
“It could be that they purpose of your life, is only to serve as a warning to others.”
~Rocas Family Crest Motto
Well it happened, and why wouldn’t it!
As I told you yesterday, I was watching my ‘Tree of Sorrows’, very
s l o w l y
drop its leaves all over my hard fought leaf free lawn, and I swear I could hear them laughing all the way from branch to ground. Not that I could do a whole lot with them as I was still very sore of body, due to the huge amount of raking\blowing I did the day before, but it did mean that I would have to get out there once again.
As I watched the last tree finally drop it’s chemically timed- all at once discarding of leaves, ‘when what to my wandering eyes should appear, but the leaf pickup truck sucking up curbed leaves at high gear.’
Still, nothing I could do. It would be hours before the tree would finish and I was in no shape anyway. Was this the last town pickup? I’m still trying to figure that one out, but I will attempt to get out today and try to get the last big load out and ready.
And then we will wait to see which will be the winner in dealing with the curbed leaf pile: The leaf truck or the snow plow.
© 2007 11月24日 If Timing Is Everything; Then I have Nothing - Part I“Life is about timing.”
~Carl Lewis
You cannot afford to wait for perfect conditions. Goal setting is often a matter of balancing timing against available resources. Opportunities are easily lost while waiting for perfect conditions.”
~Gary Ryan Blair
“You know, sometimes, when they say you're ahead of your time, it's just a polite way of saying you have a real bad sense of timing.”
~George McGovern
The day after Thanksgiving was bright and beautiful with a slight breeze, occasional short lived gusts and temps in the upper 40’s; cool, crisp, clean, and just like a fisherman or hunter will look to earth and sky to ascertain the best time to stalk their prey, I saw that it was the perfect opportunity to stalk mine; the allusive last leaf to rake.
Without a doubt, it has been an unusual fall season as everything; from cooler temps to changing leaf color, seems to be running about a month late. If timing is everything, then I think that this year nobody has it. Certainly not the leaf watchers who plan vacation times around the annual event; I’m sure that they were more than disappointed to still be looking over a vast sea of green, which may be great for Saint Patrick’s day, but very sucky for autumn.
This tardy season has also been hard on us custodians of the homestead. The town schedule for leaf pick up, which is always posted a head of time, has been thrown to the wind. All the previous posted times found no leaves to be picked up as they were still currently green and hanging from the branches. Now that the leaves have been falling for the past couple of weeks, I have had several piles picked up from in front of my house, but trying to figure out the new schedule is an impossible task. The best answer I can get, is that same one that my father used to torture us with; ‘We’ll get there when we get there.’
So this season has forced me into a new mathematical module (which is not a good thing, since I suck in math), of knowing that the last leaf pickup can occur at anytime And that the first winter snows will more than likely be on, or before time (because that is the way the Rocas curse works). If you have ever seen snow piled on top of un-raked leaves and then plowed back up by the snow plows, then you know it is not only a very ugly sight, but also that it will be forever and a day that these leaves are all over the yard and street.
So there I was yesterday, with rake and blower in hand, getting up what appears to be the last of the big fall of leaves. Just about every tree around me is now bare and with the exception of a few stragglers still on high, I am sure that anything else after this will be just a quick blow off.
With one exception.
The ‘Tree of Sorrow’.
So named by me, this very large beech tree has leaves that never change color and will ride longer in the branches than any other tree around me. When the leaves finally do fall, it is by some strange signal given by the tree and all of the leaves fall at just about the same time. Most of the time I miss when they actually fall. I have been working in the yard and gone inside for a moment, only to come back out and find the tree bare. Every once in a while though, I have been outside when it happens and it is like being caught in a blizzard of green. I call it the tree of sorrow, because it is always the last tree I have to wait on to finish my raking and also because the tear shaped leaves give off the effect that the tree is crying.
Yesterday, the tears were still hanging in abeyance and with the weather and the pickup schedule being an uncertainty, I decided to go a head and get as much as I could done.
This was by far the largest dumping of leaves so far and regardless of my dutiful weekly removal of a great many leaves, this last endeavor took me almost four hours to complete. My back and neck are stiff and my arms will probably not talk to me for a week, but I got it done.
If timing is everything; then I have nothing.
This morning I hold a hot cup of tea in my hand and stand by the picture window to survey my most excellent job of leaf removal. Then, as if to say ‘Tada’, I see the tree of sorrow begin to shed its tears; all over my cleared off yard. To add insult to injury, it appears that unlike previous years of one great and sudden downfall, they are now dropping like a gentle snowfall where the snowflakes seem almost suspended in the air.
While this is actually an artistically beautiful scene (as my wife ogles over it), I know that at this rate, it will takes hours for them all to fall. Coupled with the fact that there is an oncoming rain front moving in and temps in the 20’s, I should say that the Rocas curse is really the only thing that I can count on.
I love trees, but if anyone even mentions the word snow, I swear I'll break out the chainsaw.
© 2007 11月23日 Silence is Golden“…she's a lovely person. She deserves a good husband. Marry her before she finds one.”
~Harpo Marx
“He looked like something that had gotten loose from Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.”
~Harpo Marx (on Harpo)
“Harpo's funeral was the only time I ever saw my father cry.”
~Arthur Marx (Groucho Marx’s son)
One hundred and nineteen years ago today, Harpo (Adolf) Marx was born.
In honor of his birthday, the follow entry is made to a man who was a part of a comedy team, that I have been in love with since I was a child:
Nov 23 1888 - Sept 28 1964
HONK!
© 2007 11月22日 Day Of The Meleagris Gallopa“Thanksgiving Day is a jewel, to set in the hearts of honest men; but be careful that you do not take the day, and leave out the gratitude.”
~E.P. Powell
“So once in every year we throng
Upon a day apart, To praise the Lord with feast and song In thankfulness of heart.” ~Arthur Guiterman, The First Thanksgiving “What we're really talking about is a wonderful day set aside on the fourth Thursday of November when no one diets. I mean, why else would they call it Thanksgiving?”
~Erma Bombeck, "No One Diets on Thanksgiving,"
Today is the day we celebrate the most American of holidays:
The day my kids and I keep out of the way of the kitchen Ogre.
It used to be really nice; my mother in law had her whole brood (her three kids and their respective husbands and kids), over to a large Thanksgiving banquet. It was great, all we had to do was bring our assigned dish, and in exchange we had a wonderful – full blown feast. Turkey, ham, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, carrots, green beans and on, and on, and on. Desserts would be stacked up to the yazoo; cookies, pies, cakes. My god, it was truly a gorge fest.
But like all good things, this too had to one day come to an end. While my mother in law enjoyed the whole affair; from beginning to end, it just got to be too much for her. Her kids for many years tried to tell her that she shouldn’t be doing all that she did; that it was too much for her to do on her own, but she would have no part of it.
My wife and her siblings finally got their wish.
We have all since splintered off into our own separate tribal feasts, with my mother & father in law now journeying to a different house each year, with this year finding them my brother in laws. While I do miss the family get together (I am one of those out of space & time individuals, who actually loves his extended family as much as my own blood kin), It is also nice to not have to go anywhere, and to know that their will be ABUNDANT leftovers for picking at whenever the mood strikes me.
But there is a price to pay for this.
And so, for the past couple of years that this has been in place, my wife prepares the great turkey meal. It’s not that we haven’t had our share of invites to other family tables for our holiday, but my wife prefers to be home and doing it for us, and so it will be us with my mother and youngest brother over. It is a smaller gathering, but a happy one; just not so joyous before hand.
Did I mention that there is a price to pay here?
My wife, who I honestly cannot even think about not having in my life, becomes a person who we all cower in fear of trespassing on, in the hours of preparation before hand. She is very scientific of mind and actually works in this type of arena, so it is no surprise that she brings this kind of attitude to her holiday meal preparations. To go into her kitchen while she is busy, is tantamount to trespassing on holy ground.
You shall be beaten upon.
It’s really not all her fault. Each year, it is either this thing or that thing, which is not cooperating; the turkey is taking longer to cook than it should or whatever the cause, she starts to feel the pressure of time pressing on her. I make it my job to clean around the house so that she doesn’t have to even worry about that and to be ready to heed her bidden call when she needs me to do this or that. I make sure that I am quick to task and then to get the hell out of the way. Out of site, out of mind, is my mantra. My kids who are young adults unfortunately, have that young adult attitude. Translation: They are of no help at all. It’s not to say that they don’t try, but their attempts often interfere with the cooks flow. That is when the gates of woe open. I tell my kids that while it is too late for me, they should just hide in their rooms until the storm has passed.
It’s not really all that bad though.
It is early morning now and my wife will be up in a couple of minutes to get started. She will come up to me; smile and we’ll give each other a long and loving hug (much the way combatants will bow to each other before an epic battle begins). And like every year so far, it will be a great day.
Oh God; I think I hear her stirring.
Let the battle begin.
And to you and your family, a happy Thanksgiving.
© 2007
11月21日 I Can't Stop LaughingYesterday I was depressed as hell, now I can't stop laughing (THANK YOU SIOBHAN)
Check it out, I've still got the moves!
(Note: depending on your browser, you may have to play with the url in the address window (reload, etc...). If it is still not working, get a MAC.
11月20日 Castaway
“Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget.”
~G. Randolf
“True friends stab you in the front.”
~Oscar Wilde
“Friends are those rare people who ask how we are and then wait to hear the answer.”
~Ed Cunningham
Not much in the mood for posting today, but here it goes anyway.
Yesterday, I found out that a person that I have been working with for twenty years, would be riding home with me for the last time. Artie had accepted an early retirement offer last month, and while I knew this was coming, what we both didn’t expect was that it would be 2 weeks earlier than we thought. He had some vacation days left to him, but he did not think he was going to get them because of all the projects going on, and the short time frame left until he would have to officially leave, which was to be November 30th. We were both shocked when the boss told him he was entitled to his time and that he should take it. Artie was in the type of position where he was accustomed to losing some vacation days each year, so he thought nothing of losing eight days left to him.
So yesterday, when he got out of the car, we shook hands and said goodbye. Three of us had been commuting down to Delaware and back; two hundred plus miles, five days a week for the past two years. Bud; the other fellow that I was commuting with, who I had worked with for the past ten years, retired back in July, which leaves me once again hitting the long road by myself (which I had initially done for several months while the other two closed down the old account).
This time however, there is no sense of adventure or excitement of something new. When I was commuting by myself for that period, I actually enjoyed it. I have always loved to drive, so this should not come as a big shock.
When we started to commute together, we actually had fun in the commute; we laughed a lot, slept a lot (when not the one driving of course) and we bitched and moaned about work a lot (hey, it’s the American way). But even when we were grumbling, we had fun. We even had fun getting lost when a detour from traffic would force us into alternate (unknown) route mode (which is always fun in the dark of early morning). We were the ‘Three Amigos’, who were like ducks forced into a strange new pond. The cost savings, while significant, was just a lucky byproduct of the arrangement.
I crowded my depression out yesterday by staying focused on tasks that I needed to get done and even when I went to bed, I was too tired to even think about it. But when I got into the car this morning and looked over to the empty seats that would no longer be filled, I just felt alone, like a castaway.
This morning the commute was long and troubling. The fuel cost will be prohibitive and the idea of staying down here during the week with friends or family, just does not work for me; I’m the kind of person who needs to go home everyday. That’s where my family is and where I need to be.
I know that the depression I’m feeling will, as it usually does, subside, but I don’t think I will ever regain the great feeling I once had in the commute or in the job. It’s funny; I’ve been working with these people in Delaware for almost three years now, and I can honestly say that they are great people and that I enjoy working with them. I have always been made to feel like I've always been a part of the team; but not today.
Today I feel more like a stranger in a strange land.
© 2007 11月19日 The Color Of Snow“Its fine Scottish weather we're having. The rain is falling straight down and kind of to the side like.”
~ From the movie ‘Braveheart’
“Oh, the weather outside is frightful…”
~Lyrics from ‘Let it snow’
~Bill Connolly
Yesterday was cold, wet, dark and brooding; what I like to refer to at home as a ‘Fine Scottish Day’. I especially love it when it happens on a Sunday after a long week of work because, it gives me the perfect excuse not to do anything but lay about the house reading, writing or just watching some old movies on the brain-drainer; but usually I like to write.
I don’t know what it is about this type of weather that just stirs the creative blood in me. I feel connected to everything and yet cozily protected in my abode, all at the same time. I like to think that it is the creative Scottish spirit that dwells within. My wife says that while it is Scottish, it is the spirit of the Single Malt Scotch that dwells within me.
She could be half right there.
This kind of weather always calls for SMS intake to warm both bone and spirit. It’s a natural combination like milk & cookies, green eggs & ham, Hope & Crosby and coke & cola.
MMmmmmmmm Scotch; Scotchy, scotch, scotch.
So there I was, right in the middle of rekindling a close relationship with a long neglected mystery novel, when my daughter walks into the room and states with the slyest of grins:
“Do you want to know how I know it is almost Christmas?”
This is a loaded question in my house. For those of you who know me, Christmas; or as I refer to it: Xmas, is not my favorite holiday, I will not go into all that again, but if you really have to know, you can find that five part series of bitching and moaning right aboooouuuuuuuuttttttttttt--------------------------------à Here
Now my Daughter DD loves Xmas and has since she was a child. What’s so unusual about that, says you?
She would watch taped Xmas shows and play Xmas music all year long, says I.
All FFFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKIIIIINNNNNGGGGG Year Long!
Until my eyes & ears would ooze pus and the walls would drip blood. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she found this holiday movie called ‘Prancer’ which is about a little girl (just like her), who loves Xmas so much (just like her), that she plays (just like her), holiday music (just like her),
All FFFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKIIIIINNNNNGGGGG Year Long!
I have discovered that if you play this movie backwards, it is actually a demonic chant!
DD, at 21 now, is no longer this obsessed with Xmas, but when the holiday rolls around (which now a days seems to be just after the 4th of July), she gets that old spirit back again that I must once again endure.
And so with one eye squinted shut and my teeth clenched, I say:
“How do you know hon”
Her voice gets all excited; “Because it’s snowing outside!”
I get up from my chair and look out the window to the most amazing sight; white snow falling against a backdrop of the most where-the-fuck-were-you-in-October colored leaves. Brilliant reds, yellows, and yellow-orange leaves swinging in the branches, with dancing white all around them.
I am stunned.
My wife walks in a looks out casually stating; “Oh yeah, I remember when it used to do this all the time around my birthday (October 22nd), but I haven’t seen it happen in a while.”
“I lived no more than 6 blocks away from you growing up, and I never remember this ever happening!” , says I.
“‘I think your just getting too old to remember”, says she.
“I think I’m going to have to start marking the liquid level on the Scotch bottle, because its obvious to me that I’m not the only one partaking! , says I.
The snow didn’t last more than a half hour and leaves no trace behind. It was a sight I will never forget and, I also learned three things:
1st; The Lord never ceases to amaze me.
2nd; I may dislike the holidays, but I will never tire of seeing Christmas reflected in my daughters eyes.
3rd; My wife must be sneaking into my scotch supply, even though she claims that the only thing that tastes worse than it, is gasoline!
(“Now how would you know that?!”, says I.)
© 2007 11月18日 Stuck In My Head Sideways “You can chain me, you can torture me, you can even destroy this body, but you will never imprison my mind.”
~Mahatma Gandhi
“I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process.”
~Vincent Van Gogh
“Of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most”
~Mark Twain
Have you ever had one of those days when you get a song (usually the last one you hear), stuck in your head and you can’t get it out? You know; when you try everything to eradicate it, including listening to another song, using mind over matter, concentrating on other tasks, sticking a red hot screwdriver into your eardrums, etc.
Well I seem to be having one of those weekends, not with songs though, but with things that I remember hearing and reading from way back when I was a kid.
Yesterday I had that stupid riddle that was hounding me all day; not because I didn’t know the answer, but because I kept repeating to myself over and over again, the sing-song part of it:
“Brothers and sister I have none, but that mans father is my fathers son”.
I was able to finally get it knocked out by posting it and being done with it.
Today however, it has been replaced by something else; not a riddle, but a poster that my cousin TD had hanging in his room. TD’s room was always an entertainment center; festooned with posters and slogans, there was no place where the actual walls could be seen. These were either thought provoking (‘What if they had a war; and nobody came’), to the off color and funny; which is what I’m dealing with today.
He had this one poster that I never got tired of reading, and to this day; no matter how childish it may be, I still get a chuckle out of it.
Well today I’ve been laughing to myself all day and unfortunately, at several very inappropriate times (and after I finish here and shake this newest pest from my head, I have to go and pamper the wife profusely and make sure she knows that I truly think she still has a sexy BOD).
So without further adieu (I always thought this was a funny word too), I give you my latest brain fart:
‘I was awakened in the morning, still tired, beat and worn,
When a robin perched upon my windowsill, to greet the coming morn.
He sang a song so sweetly, great hope and joy was his refrain,
That the daylight seemed to brighten more, at his joyful music strain.
And then there came a time between the notes, when he paused for a moments lull,
That I gently pulled the window down, and crushed its fucking skull.’
I’m not quite sure why these particular items from the Jurassic are haunting me now, but I’m sure that the universe is trying to tell me something. I wish it would just come out and say it, because I swear; if I start hearing the song ‘Muskrat Love’ in my noggin, I’m going to…
Oh Shit! Where’s my screwdriver!
© 2007 11月17日 Riddle Me This“A writer is someone who can make a riddle out of an answer.”
~Karl Kraus
“I am a man of few words, but many riddles.”
~Frank Gorshin
“You know what your problem is, it's that you haven't seen enough movies - all of life's riddles are answered in the movies.”
~Steve Martin
I’ve had this riddle floating in my head all day. It was a favorite of both my father and grandfather and even when you would get the answer; it would lead to arguments and second guessing yourself. They would also argue about the setting and where exactly each person was; all things that had nothing to do with the riddle, but that’s Pennsylvania folk for you. Regardless, it always lead to good entertainment and more laughs then the riddle itself did.
I will present it the way my dad always did (I’m sure my grandfather’s ghost will haunt me over it tonight because ‘I got it all wrong’ (god damned Pennsyltuckians).
And so for your Saturday night pleasure (and to get it from out of my head)…
Oh and before I forget; alcohol is usually helpful here, especially if you have heard it before…
A prisoner looks out of their cell window and sees a person arriving at the prison for a visit. This prisoner turns to their cell mate; points at the arriving individual outside and says:
“Brothers and sisters I have none, but that mans father is my fathers son”.
What is the relationship between the prisoner and the person outside?
Good night and have fun.
“OK Grandpa, I’m ready for you; bring it on!!
© 2007 |
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