Careful, Don't Cut Yourself

     What does the title "Don't Cut Yourself" have to do with my post today?  Funny you should ask that. It's about getting older, and I'm sure some of you will relate to this.
     Here goes.  I used to be able to shave in the morning without wearing my glasses. Those days have long gone.  I look in the mirror and instead of seeing a bright and cheery happy face, I see a round very fleshy oval that I can only assume is me. Is it wise to take a very sharp instrument and run it over this beautiful orb? I knew that changes had to be made to this morning ritual when I slathered shaving cream up my nose, or the blurry appendage that stuck out from the flesh orb. Changes are hard for me.

         Time marches on, I guess.  

Football

     This is dangerous.  I am sitting in my recliner watching my beloved 49ers get thumped by the NY Giants. That is all I'll say about the game, but what is dangerous is my little brain is working overtime here thinking about the game.  Not the mess that I am watching, but the game itself, that wonderful game we Americans call football.  I realize that many of my reader is not American, but please bear with me on this.
      There are some in this great wide world that would argue that what we watch here in America is not football.  They contend that football is played on a field with net goals on each end and a round ball. The ball is only touched with the foot.  It can be deflected or bumped by the rest of the body, but you cannot use your hands.  We here in America call this soccer, and what is a sweeper anyway?  The rest of the world really knows a great way to watch the grass grow, doesn't it?  What's up with Goooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaallllllll!!!!!! I don't know, something is just not right here.
     My heart goes out to the Australians. They play a game that they call "football".  I'm not sure about that one yet, but I do know that they do kick the ball.  They run and throw it a lot too. It looks a lot like rugby, and I guess that could be classified as football as well. What is a "scrum" anyway and would I really want to collide with a guy running full speed toward me that is as solid as steel ad trying to tatoo me with cleat marks as he runs over me. The horrible thing about this is He will do this while I am not wearing any appreciable protective gear.    I think not. At least in football, I mean soccer--uh, I mean football--or is it soccer, now I am confused--you don't deliberately run someone over. There are collisions, but if they are deliberate you are penalized.
     I played football and was good at my position.  I was all-league at my position, which was "left out".  That was bad, I know but I had to take the shot.  I really didn't play football, golf was my sport as you probably know.  Do you know how much a toll on your body it is trying to make a two-foot putt to win a big match? A quarter is a lot of money afterall.
     Got to run, Its time for the baseball game.  Cricket anyone?


Its in the news again.  Hackers hacked into another bank.  Its not just your bank records, either.  Take a look at "Identity Shield" Identity theft protection.  Click the button and take a look.  It is less expensive thatn you think to be protected.      

       

Owwwww!!!!!

    It's back to the couch. Somebody hand me an ice pack. Hand me the TV remote please. Can you get me a drink--would be a beer, but I don't drink.  Owwww, it hurts!!!!!!  

The Clown Is Still In Pain

     Wednesday I woke up ad couldn't straighten up. This morning I woke up and couldn't straighten up. My back still hurts!  I had hoped to have something written for you today but my back is still in some really bad pain.  OOUCH!!!!

See How much respect I get from my family when I am in pain?

 


 That's all the writing for today and I may post again later if my back feels better.  I am going to put a very large and cold ice pack on my back ad sit in my "old man" recliner.  There is a great TV show on.  By the way, it is 4:30 AM here in California and I am up because of the pain.  Can you overdose on Naprosin and Ibuprophen?  We'll see.    

It's Friday

     Yes, it is Friday today--at least where I live.  That doesn't mean much to me though being retired.  I live in a retired world where every day is Saturday.  You could look at it in a different way as well. I work every day doing something.  Retirement to me does not mean I don't work and live on my pension.  Far from it,  my ex-wife saw to that.  To me, a weekend is not a weekend as far as work.  Tomorrow morning I will be hard at it on my computer running my internet businesses and bringing my normal humorous views of life to you. I work seven days a week. Ca you prove to me that tomorrow really is Saturday?
    To me, a Friday is a Monday and a Saturday and could be a Wednesday.  I do keep track of Monday, Wednesday and Friday because those are golf days.  I can't miss my quarter skins golf day, that would be criminal.  That is a priority.  Oh, and Wednesday afternoon I pick up my grandson at school. I don't want him walking home from school. With my back being out, I can't play golf so that really messes with my mid.  Is it really Friday?  Not in Japan.


Yesterday I saw a report on identity theft. The report talked about how hackers had stolen the records of 23,000 students in Northern Florida.  Don't leave yourself unprotected!  Click on the Identity Theft button and check out the program.  Protect you identity!  

Straight Up Guy. Not Quite Yet.

     Most of those who know me know that I am pretty much a straight up guy.  Yesterday I wasn't.  As I said, my sciatica was bothering me and I was walking around a bit strangely. Actually, I was not walking but hobbling around in pain.  I could not walk upright and looked like Quasimoto's- the hunchback of Notre Dame"s- better looking twin brother. It wasn't a pretty site and it didn't feel good either. It hurt and hurt bad.  Those of you who suffer from sciatica know what I am talking about.
     Should you care, and I don't think the state of global politics will change with this information, I am feeling much better today.  I am able to get off the couch and walk around almost upright.  I am still in pain, but not as bad. Instead of yesterday's machete stabbing me in the back, the pain is more like an ice pick.  That is kind of appropriate because I am icing my back so much. I chuckled and got it. OK, that was some really bad humor in which probably nobody got, but that's experimental humor. I crack myself up a lot. Sometimes  it works, sometimes not.
     Speaking of icing my back, it's off to the couch to ice it so I don't have to walk so strangely.

     The cause of the dreaded pain.  Not really, I just wanted to share the picture.  I parred the hole, by the way.



There was more in the news about identity theft.  It seems as though certain countries are hacking into bank accounts.  Protect yourself.  Click on the "Identity Theft" button and get protected. Check it out, it is very affordable.  
     

The Clown Is Hurt and In Pain

     Hold on, I need to get close to an ice pack.  My back has reminded me of its age and hurts like...!
Thank you for your patience, I'm back.  I am in pain.  There is a sincere doubt that I will miss my tee time on Friday.  Now, you know I am in pain if I pass up golf.  That's where I am at.
     You should see me walking.  I am heeling into the wind and listing to the right at about 28 degrees.  Problem is, there is no wind.  I can't walk up straight to save my life. It hurts!
     Ice and Ibuprophen, yep that's the ticket.  I can get up and hobble wherever I go in the apartment, but it hurts! I did have my coffee this morning.  

Line It Up

     Don't get mad at me.  I have to give you some bad news.  I am only going to post once today.  After all, It is Saturday.  I do need to rest that small brain of mine and I cannot keep up the wit and humor if I don't rest it.  It is my hope that you can be patient with me and understand my plight.  My head actually hurts right now from being overtaxed during the week.
     How many of you like and eat bagels?  I am here at Starbucks applying the cream cheese spread to my bagel, sipping on--what else--my morning dark roast coffee.  Why is it that you can never line up the halves of your bagel to match what it was before you put the cream cheese on after you have spread the cheese on.  It should be that the halves fit closely but that never happens.  They just don't line up.
     Should the halves not be lined up, the world just doesn't spin on its axis properly.  The cream cheese oozes out in the wrong places and the messy factor comes more into play. There is a greater chance that the cheese will be wasted because it oozes onto your lips where it shouldn't be.  OK, I'm stretching here and you can see I need the day off.  My comments are beginning to be incoherent. What the heck am I talking about?  I'm done here.  Have a Happy Saturday.
     Now wait a minute.  If you are in Japan or certain parts of Russia its Sunday if you are on the other part of the International Date Line.  It is fall here and if you're in the Southern Hemisphere it is Spring.
STOP!!!!!STOP!!!STOP!!! Enough already, I'm done and taking the rest of the day off.
   

Bad Jokes

        You should feel very fortunate.  I have spared you from some of the worst humor and jokes that my cob webbed over brain can come up with.  You have dodged the bullet thus far but now it is time you take one for the team.  It is time.  Here goes, I will go lightly on you at first not wanting to overwhelm you  all at once.  Sit still, this will be painless and I promise I will be gentle and only hit you with one. Remember, you could be at the dentist getting a root canal.
     I went to a memorial service for a music teacher last Saturday.  It was a very somber occasion which celebrated the life of the person that had passed on.  She had a very full and wonderful life which effected the lives of many in her community.  She taught violin--I think you see this coming but again it will be painless and quick.  I pity violin players--brace yourself for this now--because they seem to be always strung out. See, that was painless.   I love violin music including country music with the fiddle.  But I wouldn't want to play the violin because there are too many strings attached.  Snuck that one by you, didn't I.    Couldn't resist that one and forgive me for that.  When I am on a role, I just can't stop and it must be a flaw in my character.
     On a serious note, thank you for following and reading my blog.  I certainly appreciate it and hope you are enjoying it.  I also welcome your comments and feedback.  I realize that some of my posts are better than others but that is the nature of blogging.  By the way, my book should be coming out soon as an e-book and I will have more information on this soon.  Again, a hearty thank you to all of you.

   
.  

Its Over

     Its over.  The pledge has been broken.  I am grieving for the past and any bit of consistency in my life.  I made broccoli for dinner tonight and ate it.  There is a bit of freedom involved in that.  I am no longer under the pall of an agreement that I was too young to understand.  I have broken the "man pledge" of no vegetables. What can happen to me?
     Wait a minute.  I hear a knock at the door.  Hold on while I go to the door and answer it.
      Yes, I am he.  No, I will not come with you.  Who did you say you were?  The "no vegetable police"? You got to be kidding.  Hold on, you can't take me.  Besides, let me call my attorney.  I have LegalShield and you will have to deal with him....      

Eat Your Vegetables

    Personally, I have nothing against vegetables.  Most of them are green and many come in other colors such as orange in the case of carrots to yellow in the case of some squash.  What is the plural of squash, anyway?  My problem with vegetables is that many years ago I took a "man pledge" to eat as few vegetables as I can.  I know that sounds a bit sexist but I am fifty-eight years old and you could do things like that back forty years ago.  It is sort of like Catholics eating meat on Friday. I can say that because I used to be a Catholic and I am not trying to insult Catholics.  Once you ingrain a behavior it is very hard to change. To this day, I still feel guilty eating a hamburger on Friday.  So it is with eating vegetables.  I am trying to eat more vegetables, but the pledge gets in the way.  Give me a good steak, filet mignon or porterhouse would do fine thank you. If I eat that steak on Friday, I still get a twinge of guilt especially if I eat the seasoned broccoli along with the steak.
     I'll eat my salad, but drown it in honey mustard or thousand island dressing if you please.  I like the beet on top of the salad if it is pickled.  A beet is a cheater, remember that vegetables are green not red.  They slipped that one by me and eating the pickled beet is ok with the "man pledge" because of the color and the fact that it has been sitting in whatever it is they pickle it in.
      I like three bean salad. The vegetables have have been smothered in a dressing, which takes the idea of  "vegetable" out of the discussion.  By the way, what is a white bean and does a garbanzo really qualify as a vegetable. I think that the "dressing" clause of the "man pledge" can be evoked here. Let me check the pledge document.  Here it is in article three, paragraph two.  And I quote, "Vegetables pickled or smothered in a dressing or sauce can be exempted."  Wow!  I am safe.
     One last question.  Is a tomato a vegetable or a fruit?

     You never know when you may need legal advice. Can you afford the $250 an hour it takes for an attorney to take your case or even talk to you? We can help.  Click on the "Legal Justice" button below to find out more.


Disclaimer:  The opinions expressed in this particular blog came from an unclear mind which hadn't had his coffee yet before writing this piece.  He is not responsible for the content and asks for your acceptance and prayers.    

It's Debatable

     I am watching the presidential debate.  You all expect some humorous comments and some brilliance from me as to my observations.  Nuff said???
     Talk to you tomorrow.

     The floor in front of my T.V. is beckoning me.  I cannot ignore it and it has become an important part of my life.  It is there and I must deal with it.  Each day it is there and presents a life and death situation for me.  It is time.
     Let me explain.  My weight two and a half years ago was up to 300 pounds.  It was time that I did something about it, and my ex-wife was the first stimulus to my loss of weight. She made the best decision of my life and decided to divorce me.  That got the ball rolling and I began to make some significant life changes. One was that I would do crunches, leglifts and stretches first thing in the morning.  My eating patterns had to change and I had to get to the gym.  The weight had to go.  Seventy pounds melted off my body, and I am proud of that.
     Life stabilized and I began to not go to the gym and stop my morning routine.  I kept trying to hide, but thirty pounds were successful in finding me. I figured out why my asthma is bothering and sciatica is ravishing my back.  Funny thing this weight gain.  To put it mildly, my health began to slip and time was time to do something. The floor beckoned me, and I responded. The floor calls me as we speak and I am on my way there now. It has been more than a week since I returned to the floor and I am feeling better and my pants fit better as well.  Maybe it is working.
   
     There was more in the news today about thieves stealing a person's identity.  Don't go unprotected.  Click on the "Identity Theft" button and see what LegalShield has to offer.

     Next time!      

Sorry, I Have To And Couldn't Resist

     I just got back from choir practice and the Fresno Community Choir.  We are doing "Elijah" by Mendelsohn which is a great piece of music and are having a great time in rehearsal with the piece coming together nicely.  There is something I just can't resist.  Here it goes, are you ready.  I must say that me singing about the Profit Elijah puts me at a loss.  Oh, wait a minute.  I spelled profit wrong.  It should be Prophet.  Forgive me God, I know not what I do.  Maybe the Devil made me do it.  Maybe I should just go to bed.  When I write my blogs late at night, they get a little bit screwy as my consciousness dwindles.  Let's just say it gets a bit more screwier.  I'm tired and should go to bed.

I've Decided

    My mind is made up.  After many years of thinking about the problem and wondering what the solution is, I have come up with an answer.  The internet has been a very important resource as well as important conversations with musicians and other experts.
     For years, I have been wondering which musical instrument I should learn to play. Many consultations have taken place with my musician friends with their input on my musical abilities being very helpful .   The votes are in, and here goes.  I choose the harmonica. You think I am kidding.  I am not.  The past few days have been spent with my lady friend in Merced and then last night I spent ten minutes learning the harmonica.  Now that is dedication.
     Excuse me now I have to practice.  Weee...Wah...Weee...Wahhh...My...Dog...Has...Fleas...My...Dog...Has...Fleas...
     Wow!  That was intense.  I think I will sit back down and rest since I really worked on that one.  Besides, it's time to drink my morning coffee.  Sorry about that, I wasn't supposed to mention my coffee.  Forgive me for that, please.
     Take a look at Hotwire.  They are running some great deals on travel right now.  This is a great time to travel with schools being in session and the weather cooling off in the Northern Hemisphere and summer coming in the Southern Hemisphere. Click on the Hotwire link and see.

     Getting old is a wonderful thing, especially when you consider the alternative.  You do some funny things as you age though.  Sometimes you forget things.  I'm OK with that. My great realization of this happened on Saturday.
     Saturday was the day I was to leave to spend a marvelous weekend with my special lady friend.  My gas tank was low so I knew I had to stop for gas and did at a station close to the freeway.  I payed for my gas and and got back into my car and drove off.  About four miles down the freeway, I wondered how much gas I had put in and how many miles I would go on the gas I had just put in.  Seventeen miles on the gauge didn't make sense.  Did I not do something I should have?  How about put the gas in the gas tank. You must understand that I am not perfect and I am getting older.  Next time I go to the gas station, will someone call me and make sure I put the gas in.  Please?