Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Roosevelt High School Shy Guy

     The other day my thoughts turned to my younger days, especially my High School years some forty more years ago. These were some of the best years of my life, but they were also some of the most painful. For me, this was a time of great learning, about myself and the world around me.  One thing I knew for sure, I was no ladies man.
     It wasn't that I wasn't unfriendly, far from that.  I could talk and joke with anyone, male or female. For me, that wasn't the problem.What I was afraid of was the social aspect of it all and a small little word, NO! That's a powerful little word which really can limit your world and the enjoyment of the wonderful world out there.  Sometimes that no was only in my mind.
     I was terribly afraid of that little no.  It also needs to be said that we are not talking about lifetime commitments to marriage and children, far from that. What I am talking about is maybe a movie, a date to the dance or possibly even a football game.  Hell, even a short conversation in the lunchroom would be nice.  There was no way that was going to happen, or so I thought. Why bother even talking to her, she is just going to say no. Fear would always cause me to strike out I guess, so why even try.
     I first met Rhonda in Mr. Doyle's seventh grade English class. A stroke of fate, call it luck I guess, saw us being educated together all through high school graduation. OK, I will just come out and say it. (I know you are reading this Rhonda, but just bear with me. Remember, this was many years ago and we have both been living very full and adventurous lives. We have matured, I think. If I offend you with this, I will apologize now.  Please remember that these were the thoughts of a young high school male.) Rhonda was, well--hot.
     When I rack my brain to find words to describe Rhonda as I saw her at the time, one word comes to mind--inaccessible, at least to me. She was "popular" and WAY out of my league. I was not.  What would this beautiful young lady want with a little worm like me. I honestly don't know what Rhonda thought of me at the time.  She probably never even noticed that I was there, but that's not the point. My perception was that I didn't even exist in her mind or that I was just, "That nice guy Dave. He's nice, but he is just a twit." None of this probably even crossed her mind, and that's not her problem.
     Rhonda wasn't the only one.  In fact, there were many more, some of which I though that I did have a chance to ask out on an actual date but never asked. Again, I'm not talking about getting married and having our kids--just a football game or an Emerson, Lake and Palmer concert.  Was that too much to ask?  Well, maybe the Emerson, Lake and Palmer concert might have been a step too far, but come on. Honestly, I'm not angry at them, I'm angry at myself.  But then I think back and remember that I really wasn't ready to date, or even talk to a girl. I was scared, scared of that little word.
     I did find love, though.  Unfortunately after thirty-three years she intentionally lost me.  But God is good and I found love again even stronger this second time around in Denise and we are very happily married.  Every now and then my mind drifts back to those high school years more than forty years ago with a certain degree of fondness. Rhonda, I wish you well and thanks
No, That's not Rhonda


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Saturday, March 1, 2014

I'm Getting Too Old For This

     It has been said that enthusiasm is lost on the youth.  I didn't make that up, but there is a lot of truth in that statement.  Things that you would do in your youth are not as do-able as they were back when you were twenty.  Yesterday was no exception.
     The day started normal enough, me sitting down at the computer in order to get the day's blog out.  It was a good one too, the blog that is.  The rain fell heavily outside.  I still can't find the guy who turns the light in the garage on and offwatch The Military Channel on occasion.
. I poured myself a coup of coffee and went to work.  Denise had some things she had to do, so she left. If you have a tendency to worry--don't.  She came back later.  She loves me you know.  I know this because she lets me
     The afternoon saw us traveling down Highway 99 South in the direction of Fresno.  I used to live in Fresno, I think. I just had a senior moment. Anyway, we had to go to Fresno to take care of some errands for Denise's sons.  We exiled them to Fresno.  Sometimes I am not sure that was such a good idea but oh well. We had to do banking and buy groceries with them. Later, we picked up my son and went to dinner. To this point, our actions were very conservative and we got the tasks done without incident.
     At this point, in order to set the tone, I think I need to tell this story. Bare with me for a minute because this may take a while.   Here goes.
     As a kid I used to go to the local municipal swimming pool during the summer.  The pool was near the  golf course, so I would play golf all morning and swim in the afternoon. Gone from the house at 6:00 A.M. and not back until about 7:00 that evening.  This happened almost every  day during the summer, unless I was in summer school during the morning.  I would still wind up at the pool in the afternoon.  Wait a minute, that sounds kind of fishy. I was gone almost all day.  My sister wasn't. Were my parents trying to convey a sinister message to me? What was the number to my shrink?  I think I just had a breakthrough. 
     Anyway, back to the story.  When I was younger, I loved to jump off the fifteen foot high dive at the pool.  It didn't matter, feet first, head first, or bellyflop. I was indestructible. I loved it! I would climb up the ladder to the top and just jump.  There was no fear.
     My how things change when you get old. We took my kids, the five pre-Denise kids way before Denise even came into the picture and we will just leave it at that, to that same pool.  Not much had changed.  My oldest daughter was about twelve at the time and really loved to swim.  She wouldn't go off that high dive though.  As much as I told her how much fun it was when I was younger to dive off that high dive, she wouldn't go.  That led to the fatal error.  I told her if she went off the high dive first, I would go after her.
That comment I would live to regret for a very long time. It really seemed like a good idea at the time.  She agreed to take the plunge.
     Now what, it was my turn. No problem, I thought.to myself.  I have done this a thousand times, forgetting I was about eighty pounds lighter a a whole lot younger and more fearless. Up the ladder I climbed. I can do this...no you can't.  My self preservation mode started kicking in. I fought it like a trooper, and gingerly walked to the end of the diving board.  This was a lot higher than it used to be. Jump!...NO!
     The question was pride or preservation.  Preservation won out.  I walked backward off the diving board and down the ladder, very much aware that there were many eyes fixed upon my cowardly self. Forget them, I wasn't going to kill myself. Alas, I was getting too old.  My self conscious mind had made a choice for me.  I froze at the top of the high dive.
     Last night we jumped off that high dive in a blaze of glory! Denise had a moment of  insanity and strongly suggested we have some fun and go up to the casino at Chukchansi. Being a good husband I said "Yes dear, let's go".
      I must admit that I had fun.  However, my body doesn't like staying up until 4:00 in the morning. Today I am paying the price. I hurt! Oh to be young and foolish again.  I did have my coffee though.
     
No way, Jack!  That waters is cold.










    

Friday, February 28, 2014

Who Turned The Light On?

     Excuse me for a second, I have to get something out of the garage.  Hey, someone left the light on in here. Why is the light on?  Don't people know that leaving a light on costs electricity and money? Global warming, you know. OK, I have what I want, let me turn the light off--there.
     You know, I forgot that I need my lucky umbrella to give me motivation to write. I know, I should have grabbed it while I was in the garage but I thought I didn't need it to today. Let me go get it. Wait a minute, the light is still on in the garage.  I am getting old and continually forgetting  to turn lights off, but I know I turned that light in the garage off when I went in there a few minutes ago. Let me turn the light off  and get back to writing.
     "Yes dear, I'll go bring up the garbage cans from the curb before that big black cloud hits."
     Excuse me once again, I have to go through the garage to get to the side of the house and open the gate to bring the garbage cans up.  Here I go.  Dang, someone left the light on again. I'm going to close the light and try this again.  I know that I turned the light off. 
     Something funny is happening here.  Contrary to popular belief and I drink a lot of coffee--studies have shown that coffee helps reduce the onset of senility--I am not going senile. I turned that light off, I know I did. The light came is on again, and it came on as soon as I opened the door and went into the garage.  I did not touch a switch to turn it on.
     By the way, this doesn't have anything to do with the light in the garage, but that big black cloud is getting bigger and it is getting darker. As usual, Denise is right again.
     Oh, I get it.  There is a little opening in the rafters of the garage ceiling--we have one of those finished garages which is sheet rocked in.  There is a little man up there who watches when the door opens from the kitchen into the garage and it is his job to turn the light on and off when someone comes into or goes out of the garage into or out of the house.  That's an innovation and a great service, why didn't I think of that.
     Hold the phone, though.  Who is paying this guy?  Do I really want this service.  It is kind of like cable.  Maybe I just want basic cable and not the premium channels like HBO, Cinemax or Shotime? Does my rent cover a service charge for him to do this light thing.  I might not want to pay for that.  I'll have to ask my landlord.
     I kind of feel a bit concerned for the poor guy that turns the light on though.  You would think with what's happening in the country today and jobs being eliminated through automation and mechanization, his job may be eliminated.  Just look at the guy who used to open the garage door. He has been replaced by automation and a machine. Just a thought.
Finally met the guy who turns the garage light on and off.  This is what he drives.  He parks it around the corner so I don't know he is working.  Who's paying him by the way? Is he living in my garage rafters?

 
            

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Darn...I Missed It!

     Sometimes I am asked what it is like being retired.  I get questioned about all the time I have on my hands and how I am able to play golf every day.  I want to assure you that that doesn't happen, especially when you are broke.  Remember, I am a starving artist--even worse a starving writer.
     What is art anyway?  Art is art, not something you sell to make money.  It is the expression, isn't it?  Its not the monetary value of the product. Sorry, I am off course again.  But certainly if you have the inclination to make a donation, I wouldn't refuse.***** 
     Let's see, what was I going to write about today?  Oh, yes, my retirement and what do I do with my time.  I am very busy, not playing golf of course although I did play yesterday before it rained. It didn't cost much, the course had a pre-rain special so I took advantage of it. Got 18 holes in too and played pretty well. Is it bad to treat yourself every now and then?
     Wow!  I can't believe I just did that.  I just turned the T.V. off to come in here--my office for those of you who don't know where I write--and work.  See, I am committed to working--er, uh writing. Remember, I am not in this for the money.  Its the art and the expression. Now what do I say? Hmmm....
     I have a recliner in my office and it is calling my name--just had lunch.  Let's see what the recliner has to offer as far as story ideas and what to write.  Excuse me for a moment while I get into a more creative and thoughtful state. This feels really good.  I think I will just close my eyes and visualize my happy place for a  moment. This is very difficult, this creativity mode so pardon me for a minute while I visualize.
Sometimes I see some strange animals in my visualization time.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ


*****Author's note and disclaimer: Donations are not necessary, this was just a literary device to get a laugh.

  
     

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Daddy...Where Do Chihuahuas Come From?

     I have often wondered that. A chihuahua is a dog, I know that but aren't dogs supposed to be big animals?  Didn't they evolve directly from huge wolves? I can see coyotes, but chihuahuas?  It kind of makes you think.  I don't mean to question God, and I don't really understand a lot of what God does but a chihuahua?
     I think he got distracted or something.  Maybe he meant to make a rat and saw a dog so he made a chihuahua.  I don't know, I wasn't there. Could be though.
     One thing I have noticed about chihuahuas is that they don't know that they are small.  I have seen a toy chihuahua take on a great dane, and the great dane backed off.  I have also heard of a husky eating a chihuahua, but that again is another story. I guess defiance, especially on the part of the toy chihuahua can be a stupid thing.
     My chihuahua was small and would go with me wherever I went in the house.  He was a barker as well. The whole thing brings into question who was the pet and who was the master.  You know what I mean if you have a chihuahua. Its funny though how he would curl up under the covers of my bed in his own spot.  If I rolled over into his spot, he would growl as if to say, "Hey, this is my spot stupid!"  I remember hearing that from someone else before, but we won't go there.  I promise to be nice and not mention my ex.
     Housebreaking my chihuahua was another matter.  I would do all that the vet had said to get him to go outside to do his business, but it seemed as though it was more fun for him to drive me nuts by peeing on everything.  Again, who was the master and who was the pet. I must say that he was OK with going outside to poop though.I was very thankful for that.
     I lost my dog in the divorce and really miss him.  I will let it go at that.
Isn't he cute?  I miss him, woof, woof.
 
    

Futility...

     Of the many subjects out in the great big world that I can write about, I am drawing a blank.   Right now, I can't think of any, and I have had my coffee.  In fact, I think I am going to go pour my second cup.  I don't feel motivated to write just now.  My mind is drawing a blank, which is a situation that many people have stated is my normal state of mind.  Its not, I can assure you but it is close.  I think I need to play more golf.
     Ahhh, that's better.  There is something about a good hot cup of coffee.At this point, I won't go off on a tangent of talking about coffee.  That would be unfair to you. I have written almost two paragraphs and have said a whole lot of nothing about anything.  But, at this point I don't have a topic to write about.
     I guess the whole writing process for me is futile for today. Hey, wait a minute I may be on to something. Is futility a topic?  Give me a minute here to think--futility, hmmmmm.
     The dictionary defines futile as being incapable of producing success or result: of being useless, ineffective or not successful.  Futility comes out of that definition. OK, we have the definition, now what am I going to do with it.  I don't know. I think I will take another sip of my coffee. I do need to get this written because "The Price Is Right" will be on in thirty-one minutes.
     How about some acts of futility? Housebreaking my chihuahua, now that was an act of fertility.  Who invented the chihuahua anyway? Keeping a twenty something year old son fed, whether a step-son or my own son is a lesson in futility.  It seems as though the tank is never full. I must be an optimist on this one, because with them the tank is always half full, never half empty. By the way, where did all the Fruit Loops go?  That box was full yesterday.  Hold on, the phone just rang.
     Writing this today would fall into the category of futility.  I just get on a roll and something happens.  Now, Price Is Right is starting so I guess trying to go any farther with
this is futile.
Moving a piano, a
possible lesson in futility.  I think that the piano moved us.
    

Monday, February 24, 2014

Listen Closely...This Is Very Important!

     I have something very important to share with you today.  This is something that has been on my heart for a very long time and would be totally remiss if I didn't put my thoughts down.  Don't worry, what I am about to say is not earth shattering and the world will probably not come to an end today--maybe tomorrow but not today.  It is my hope that you would continue reading.
     Wait just a minute, if you would please.  Denise is calling me.  What's that Dear?  I need to take you to work this morning because you can't get the car started.  O.K., I will be with you in a minute.  Oh, you need to go now.  I'll just be a second, I'm writing just now and am in the middle of an important post.  You need to leave right now.  O.K., let me just finish this thought.
     Excuse me, I will be right back.  I have to take my wife to work.






     Sorry for the interruption, but as most married people know when your spouse needs something--like right now--its not a good idea to keep her, and notice here that I said her, waiting.  That would be totally discourteous on my part and probably would result in my sleeping on the couch again tonight.  This is an unfortunate consequence that my intention is not to repeat.
     Let's see, where was I?  Oh yes.  What I am about to write may change your world hopefully for the better.  After finding out about it myself, it certainly did have an effect on my life and how I think.  The ramifications and influences the whole concept and thought will revolutionize your life.  Things will look different to you, I guarantee that.  Here goes.
    Wait a minute, the doorbell just rang.  I'll be right back.






     Sorry about that.  I had to answer the door.  That was really different.  It was a chihuahua dressed in a business suit that wanted to talk about freedom for dogs.  He mentioned something about car seats for dogs when they ride in their human's car, but I couldn't quite make out all he was saying other than he was very unhappy about my blog the other day.  After all, I don't speak Arfic. Now, where was I?
     Oh yes, back to what I was going to share with you that was extremely important. Hold on, my phone is ringing. Sorry I have to take this one.  Its from the cheese factory. I am supplying the cheese for a meeting of The Loyal Order of Mice and the cheese is being shipped today.  I have to stay on top of this one in order to be on the cutting edge of the situation.  This is a tough position, any way you slice it--OK, that one stunk like limburger.  I'll be right back.






     That was a close call.  All is well with the cheese, they just wanted to let me know all was well with the shipment.  They didn't want to spoil my day, but were happy to mold my expectations on how good the cheese would taste.
     Darn, nature calls.






     I'm back.  Let's see.  Hold on, the phone just rang again.  Its Denise and she needs me to pick her up. Sorry, I've got to run.  What was I going to share with you?  It must not have been that important.
OK, I know this post may not fly.  This airplane will.
   

 
    








   

Friday, February 21, 2014

Shovel Snow...Pull Weeds...Same Difference

     Those of you in the colder climates who are dealing with all that snow, I totally feel for you.  I really mean that. The cold and wet can be miserable and make life very difficult.  You have been shoveling snow for a very long time now. Please don't hate us in the fact that it has been in the seventies here in California.  If you want to hate someone, hate those people who live in Florida. OK, how about we don't hate anybody, that would not be nice. They have humidity and alligators in Florida, so I guess we can feel sorry for them.  They also have water in Florida, which we don't have so you can feel sorry for us in that respect.
     The grass is growing here--like weeds I would say, arf, arf-- because of the mild winter.  This is about three to four weeks too early.  My lawnmower is not ready for this.  The flowerbeds have weeds in them, oh no.  I am not supposed to be doing yard work for another three to four weeks.  Bermuda is supposed to be dormant this time of year. Trees are blooming, for goodness sake and it is not even March.  What is going to happen when the time changes.  How that relates to the trees blooming and grass growing, I don't know.  I'm running out of where to take this blog and what to say, so I thought I would just throw that in.
        Sorry, I will be right back, I have to close the blinds.  The sun is shinning in through my office window and I can't read my computer screen. There, that's better.
     I have shoveled snow before.  It is cold, hard backbreaking work and the kind of thing that is almost perpetual.  You shovel to clear your walk and driveway, and then it snows again. That's the pits. This is truly unfair. To all of those people that I know whom are in climates where it snow, I salute you for your perseverance. Remember, you come from hearty stock and this will not defeat you.
     Well, I have to run now.  Denise wants to work out in the yard.  She will mow and edge, and I am tasked with the weeding. So, I have got my shorts an work sandals on.  Where is my favorite tee shirt?  I have to be careful though, it is a bit nippy out there at about 62 degrees, but it is supposed to warm up. Yes, dear, I won't forget to put on my sunscreen.
The weeds seem to be getting out of hand.  She wants me to paint the house soon.
 

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Back In Time...I Love Huey Lewis

     As many of you know--some know but don't care--we have recently moved from that huge metropolis of Fresno California to the small town of Merced, Ca. about sixty miles to the north. We made the move for a number of reasons, with the main reason being that Denise wanted to move back.  As we all know, nobody is happy unless momma is happy and so when she politely suggested that we move to Merced I did my husbandly duty and said "Yes Dear." You know, I kind of like Merced though. Its like going back in time 50 years.
They have a Home Depot AND a Lowe's here in Merced, but alas, no Olive Garden or Red Lobster.
     Don't feel sorry for me. I am not in exile, far from that. I miss the big city amenities such as restaurants staying open past 7:30 in the evening but you get used to that. Applebee's is open late though and I have invented a game.  The game is "Let's See How Long It Takes To Order Everything On Applebee's Menu, One Thing At A Time A Day At A Time After 9:00".  So far, I am on the third page of the menu, the chicken section, and have a ways to go.  I can't wait to get to the dessert section. The Roast Beef Sandwich was pretty tasty.
     Most of modern life in America has made it to Merced. They have cable T.V., phones, electricity and even cars--although I did see a horse drawn wagon downtown yesterday. I talked to the guy who rolls up the sidewalks yesterday and he told me that he would be retiring soon, to be replaced by an automated system. All you have to do is program the time and the sidewalks automatically roll up.  He plans to stay on part time as a back up for the system once it is installed, just in case. The important thing is that the sidewalks be rolled up and put away by 8:00 during the week and 9:00 on the weekends.  Of course, that time is extended during daylight savings by one hour.
     I miss you Olive Garden Fresno.  However, the Grilled Chicken White Sauce Lasagna and Belgian Waffle with Banana, Caramel Sauce and Vanilla Gelato at Pinocchio's has kind of made up for the loss here in Merced.  Only one thing, make sure you are at Pinocchio's before 7.  They close at 8.
   
     

Thursday, February 13, 2014

New Post Coming Up Soon...Just Not Now

     I am not going to post right now.  It has been a busy morning and The Price Is Right is on.  I don't want to miss it.  Stayed tuned though, I am going to have a great post for you today.  It will have you rolling in the aisle.  I don't know if you have an aisle, but you can pretend.

Stay tuned, I will be back with you soon.

Friday, February 7, 2014

Here Today...Going Somewhere Else In a Little Bit

     I don't have very much time today, so I am not going to write a blog to share with you today.  I have to go very soon, so I have to say this is all I have.  Please don't get mad at me as I try very hard to communicate with you and bring you a chuckle or two.
     We will be leaving very soon, but I will be back.  Isn't it amazing that when you kind of have a day off, things seem to pile up and unexpected crisisses (What is the plural of crisis and how do you spell it?) pop up. They always seem to come when you are planning something really fun.  I hate that.  People don't seem to understand that a lack of planning on their part does not constitute a crisis on my part. When will people learn?
       I am not a fireman.  I just play one in life.  I am actually a freelance writer who taught for twenty years and then retired, but I have aspired to the position of fireman.  I don't put out the actual hot fires, but the fires that are created by mistakes of others or consequences that are created beyond my control that I have to put out. Problem is, these things seem to happen at times where I have something else planned and my plans have to change.  I guess that's why they pay me the big bucks, of yet I have to see.
       At any rate, ciao baby.  I'm on my way out the door.
This is the only door picture I have, so you will just have to accept it.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Rainy Days and Mondays Don't Always Get Me Down

     It is raining today.  We truly have to thank God for this, because of the severe drought we are having here in California.  The rain is very much welcomed.  But, with all due respect to Karen-rest her soul-and Richard Carpenter rainy days and Mondays don't always get me down.  In fact, I kind of like both.
     Mondays are no different for me than say a Saturday, Sunday or a Tuesday for that matter.  I am a writer and retired school teacher so I write whenever the spirit moves. The world doesn't wait for creativity. When an idea flashes in my head, I have to act upon it. Other things flash in my head as well, but we won't go there. There are people and others watching.
     Bottom line is that my workplace is in my office, which is on the other side of my house.  The T.V. is in the living room which is in the middle of the house from our bedroom. so I have to watch it.  I didn't mean actually "watch it", what I meant was I have to be careful that I don't waste a lot of time in front of the "boob tube" watching The Military Channel.  I think you get the point. I am getting pretty good about staying away from the T.V. when I have something to do. What about the kitchen?
     Mondays can be hard though.  Denise works a heavy schedule on Monday.  She works at U.C. Merced, as I have said, and parking there is atrociously expensive.  She either bums a ride with her friend or I take her.  When I have to take her, it kind of screws up my schedule.  I try to write, but I can't get into a rhythm as far as hatching new ideas for my writing.  The words just don't come.  For the most part, the day is shot, although yesterday I reattached a bathroom cabinet door.  That was one of those projects that you say you are going to get around to but never do.  Well, I got around to it and the door is on. I honestly don't mind the time I spend with her driving her.  Instead-now you know this is coming-of it being Driving Miss Daisy, its Driving Mrs. Rallis. You can groan here.
     I love rainy days.  In fact, it is raining here now.  I could write about all the poetic stuff about the smells and the light and all that, but I won't.  Quite frankly, I am out of stuff to write about now because I wrote so much
This is about the only rainy day picture I have.  It was taken on a Sunday.
about Monday.
     

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Coke v. Pepsi...The Controversy of the Ages

As you know, it is always my intention to stay on the cusp of controversy. Today is no different. I am compelled to comment on the Coke vs. Pepsi wars which are dividing our country and the world today. This is serious stuff folks. Families have been torn apart by this war, all because of a couple of stupid soft drinks.
     By the way, to add fuel to the fire, let's get our terminology straight and correct.  It is not soda, soda pop pop or even tonic.  The correct terminology is soft drink, and if you really want to get technical the generic term is flavored non-alcoholic carbonated beverage.  So please, if you are going to join this discussion use the correct term of either soft drink or flavored non-alcoholic carbonated beverage.
     I will go on record here saying that I prefer Coke, and prefer Coke Zero over the sugar of regular Coke. There can be a controversy over that as well as my wife prefers Diet Coke over Coke Zero.  I think that she's wrong, but that is between us and I would never tell her that as I don't want to anger her. She's still wrong though. I will leave the Coke Zero-Diet Coke controversy alone for the time being.
     Coke has the better flavor.  It is not quite as sweet and the carbonation doesn't hide the flavor of the non-alcoholic beverage.  To me, Pepsi's flavor is not based on the recipe of the syrup, but on the amount of sugar and carbonation that is put into the soft drink. Don't get me wrong, if I were stranded on a desert island and the only thing I had to drink would be an endless supply of Pepsi, I would drink it.  I don't think I would bathe in it though.  That would depend if I was the only one on the island or if Denise were along.  Come to think of it, she would have to drink Pepsi as well. Whether or not she would bathe in it, I will just have to ask her.
     I'm not a big cola drinker anyway.  If I am drinking a caffeinated flavored non-alcoholic carbonated beverage, I prefer Dr. Pepper.  I guess Dr.  Pepper is now owned by the 7-up company, which is the old Royal Crown Cola Company. Sorry, I didn't mean to confuse the issue but facts are facts. As a matter of fact, I think I prefer Royal Crown to Coke, but it is almost impossible to get Royal Crown anywhere but a small liquor store in remote Manitoba, Canada.  I guess Coke and Pepsi had a hand in that, and that is too bad. R.C. was one of the first casualties of the cola wars. RIP Royal Crown.
     I have a confession to make.  I really don't drink that many flavored non-alcoholic carbonated beverages, especially after my last surgery. I had a bad case of acid reflux, so I had my DES valve repaired in my stomach.  I don't get the heartburn anymore, but the surgery has caused some unexpected consequences.  If I have gas, that gas has to go somewhere and not up through the esophagus. It goes out the back in the form of a "fart".  Yes, I use the word "fart" even though the correct medical term is flatulence. I thought that I would just give it to you as it is and not pull any punches. Not being able to use the word "fart" really stinks.
The bottom line is, I drink a lot of Crystal Light Fruit Punch now. Denise really appreciates that.
     So, for me it is Coke by a safety--two points.  Excuse me now, I just made a new pitcher of Crystal Light Fruit Punch.
Fruit is better for you than Coke or Pepsi


Monday, February 3, 2014

Save Our Dogs...The Dog Community's Response

       Bow, wow arf arf bow wow arf bow.  Arf arf, bow wow bow wow arf arfbow wow, bow wow. Grrrr...grr...bow wow. Arf bow wow grrr arf arf, bow wow.

ARF ARF,

Ruff, Ruff, Ruff

Arf woof woof. TRANSLATION: Let us run free as our cousins the foxes. 
TRANSLATION:

     My name is Buck Rotweiler, and I have been chosen by the American Society for the Preservation of
Canine Freedoms to respond to Mr. Rallis' post about dogs and car restraining devices.  As a proud member of that organization and being a canine myself, I wish to comment on Mr. Rallis' remarks.   The canine community is very much opposed to such actions.  It would run contrary to our God given canine rights and would restrict our Constitutional rights as to the pursuit of happiness.  This law, however well intended, would further restrict our rights as beings created by God to run freely amongst His creation. Enough is enough.
     You have restricted our rights as free canines for far too long.  We are no longer able to chase rabbits and other small animals freely in the land as you have enacted leash laws.  In order to soothe your guilt, you have created "doggie parks" where we are able to run free.  There are still fences. Squirrels and other small animals are off limits.  We can only chase so many frisbees. This restriction of our rights has to stop!
     Being able to roam freely in our master's car is a totally freeing experience.  The wind in our fur as we stick our heads out the open window is one of the last true vestiges of freedom for us.  It feels so exhilarating. It is one of the last experiences in a dog's life that makes us feel free.  Please don't take that away.

Your's respectfully,

Buck "Paws" Rotweiler
Executive Director
American Society for the  Preservation of Canine Freedoms  
     
   

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Poor Little Spoon...

     Denise and I went to breakfast with some friends and my step son yesterday morning.  A tragedy was almost averted. It was a sad affair, but the outcome was positive and nobody was hurt. I am truly glad that things turned out the way they did.
     We sat down and ordered.  There was a light atmosphere at the table where we chatted and shared some laughs.  Then it happened, the tragic event.  It kind of caught me off guard.
     Our drinks were served and the fellowship at our table continued and I had an iced tea.  I heard this faint sound, but didn't know where it was coming from. For a moment, I ignored it thinking it was just a figment of my imagination.  The sound grew louder, and would not go away. I continued to ignore the muffled sounds until it was time to put the sweetener (the pink kind and I know its not good for you) and squeeze the lemon into my tea.  I like a lot of lemon in my tea. it kind of kills the taste.  I know, why drink iced tea if you don't like the taste of tea but you have to remember who is writing this. At any rate, back to my story I need to move on my coffee is getting cold.
     There it was, drowning.  It was helpless and because of its weight could not swim. I could see it very well, because of its grey silvery color contrasted with the chestnut brown and transparent ice of the tea.  It was a small teaspoon, trying to extricate itself from the deadly mix of transparent brown liquid. The glass was too deep, and the spoon could not get its head, or handle, above the level of the tea.  If I didn't act fast, the spoon would perish. Oh, you poor little spoon.
     I removed the spoon from its icy, brown peril and the spoon thanked me as I place the spoon in my wife's cup of coffee (OK, I made that one up because Denise doesn't drink coffee.  It just sounded pretty good.) to warm it up.  It had lost a great amount of body heat and was shivering after I took it out of the tea in order for hypothermia not to set in.
     Don't call me a hero, I don't need the accolades.  There is actually more to the story, something about the little silvery spoon that thought it could, each time it looked down at the inside of the glass of tea would say "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can can..." and jumped into the tea but couldn't.  I won't share that with you though, as the whole incident can make you pretty emotional.
     I'm proud of the preceding story.  I now it sounds stupid, and it is but after all it is Sunday and I haven't posted for a couple of days.  I needed to spoon something out to you.





Don't get mad at me for that one. Thank you for reading.
A spoon wouldn't drown in here. Its not deep enough.

     

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Save Our Dogs!

     I don't normally say much about political causes or suggesting legislation but I am going to do that today.  No, I am not going to say a thing about our beloved President or the state of political issues in the United States.  No complaints about Obamacare either. I have something much more important to discuss here.
     This is an issue that is of critical importance, and laws must be passed to prevent this tragedy.  I am talking about the number of dogs riding in cars killed in traffic accidents each year. They are not restrained, and in a crash they are totally vulnerable to injury, or even worse death.  There must be laws passed to remedy the situation.
     We need doggy restraining devices, doggy car seats if you will.  These poor creatures are totally incapable of protecting themselves. We must take responsibility for man's best friend and protect them. They must be placed in car seats so that they are protected in a crash.
     The days of Fido sticking his or her head out the window to enjoy the wind rushing through their fur, or no fur in the case of a chihuahua is over. We must limit their rights in order to protect them, they cannot protect themselves
A Car Seat For Every Dog

He'd be too big for a car seat.  He's not a dog anyway.

Remember, Its up to you.  Call your legislator!  Save Basher's life.  Go ahead, you do it.  He's not my dog anymore.

     I am only talking about dogs.  Let cats fend for themselves.  They look at you like they know something you don't anyway.  Dogs are kind of dumb and can't take care of themselves.  

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

That's A Great Idea To Write About!

     How many times has it crossed your mind to ask me where I get my ideas for my blog?  The burning question you have asked yourselves many times (or maybe not) is where do my topics come from.  After they come to me, where does the brilliance come from? I guess my answer to that would be, I don't know. They just kind of flash into my brain, and I have to seize them quickly. Some wonder how I function--as do I-- with the brain I have, so I do have to act fast.
     Most of the time, I use the "blank wall technique", which I talked about before. I don't meditate on the wall or anything, as that would be a bit demonic but sometimes an idea just pops into my head after a few minutes of starring at the wall. You might say that many of my posts are truly "off the wall", as I look at the wall when I am thinking.  Again, The "Dogs Playing Poker" poster and the window out to our back yard do come into play here as well.
     Most of the time I just start writing with no topic at all.  What comes out is absolutely meaningless, but sound good.  Maybe I should consider another line of work.  One that really suites my talents, such as politician.  Yes I did see the "State of the Union" Address last night and that is a good demonstration of what I am talking about.  I not just talking about what the President said either, but also the Republican response.  And, after watching for a while, I have decided I would be a good newsman as well.  They took nothing and turned it into ten hours of commentary.
    What I said in the last paragraph kind of scares me.  What I wrote there is kind of what I mean.  I said absolutely nothing about anything, I just wrote.  It did sound good though, you have to admit.
     The world is awash with ideas.  You just have to look for them.  Keep your eyes and ears open.  See what is there and be able to chuckle.
I have no caption for this. How about this is what the underside of a piano looks like? I don't know.  Be creative in your mind.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Yes! I'm Back In Business.

     It came in yesterday's mail.  This was something I have been waiting for a long time after the last one was compromised. Thank God it came, I'm back in business again.  How can anyone live without it.  Its almost like being without a cell phone and not being able to check today's stock quotes. Its here, my new plastic bank debit card and I will use it.
     Now, let's do some damage.  What shall I use it on.  What purchase can I make to make me very happy, not that I am not happy now.  Ah yes, let's try the internet.  How about yachts.
      Here's a nice little yacht that catches my fancy.  Seven hundred and fifty foot with a pretty generous beam.  What are the amenities, let's see.  Ocean going capabilities with a completely modern navigation system, seems pretty good already.  You know how much I love to cruise.  The boat comes equipped with five decks, a gourmet galley, seven bedrooms in which the master suite takes up half a deck, a pool with a hot tub plus an indoor hot tub.  It cruises at thirty-five knots and can go anywhere in the world. Oh yes, don't forget the helicopter which can land on the helicopter deck which comes with the yacht for an asking price of $25 million. Does it come with the girls in the bikinis? (I didn't mean that Denise. I only threw that in to get a chuckle.)  I'll take it!
     Let me get my card out.  Excuse me, I have to call and activate it first, done.  Now, let me fill out the purchase agreement, card #XXXX-XXXX-XXXX-3210...done.  I'm waiting back...What?  CARD DECLINED? Why?  See if that yacht company will get my business again. Let's try something else.
     How about a sports car?  I miss my black 350 Z.  I think I will upgrade on this one.  I think I will try a brand new 370Z, I'm worth it.  Originally I thought that I would try to buy a Lambroghini, but I can't spell Lambroghini and that would be a bit gauche, so I wont even go there.  I will stick with a 370Z.
     Ok, here is one, brand new at the dealership here in Merced with an asking price of $62,000 out the door. Just what I want. Its black with black interior, just like the one I had before the disaster.  It has everything I want, and Denise and I will look fine in it.  I'll take it!
      This will just take a minute.  I need to fill in the blanks of the purchase agreement.  Let me put in the card numbers here, XXXX-XXXX-XXXX-3210, that should do it. CARD DECLINED? That's twice that has happened.  What's wrong here?  Its a new card and I just activated it.  It should work.  Let me try something else.
      I need some golf balls.  I won't go new on this.  Here is a sleeve of reconditioned Pro-V 1's for ninety-nine cents.  Let's try that.  I'll fill out the order, I always wanted some reconditioned Pro-V's.  Here is the number, XXXX-XXXX-XXXX-3210.  CARD DECLINED...What is this? I'm going to call the bank.
       Let me call the bank to find out what's wrong.  They are on the phone now.  I've got the recording that tells me my totals. "Your available balance in savings and checking is seventy-five cents."  Does that mean I cant use my card? Nuts!
There's the yacht I wanted to by.  Oh well.
   

             
   

Monday, January 27, 2014

Under Pressure

     I'm under pressure this morning.  I don't know how good this post is going to be because I am trying to hurry and get it out.  I have nothing to write about, no witty or humorous thoughts to share or topics to cover. I have to go down to Fresno to take care of some business and have to leave soon so don't expect miracles on this post.  I haven't showered yet and most importantly, have not had my coffee.
     I am getting spoiled living here in Merced.  The town is so much smaller and has that small town attitude. Life is so much slower as well.  Everything is so close, within a two minute drive, that you really don't have to hurry as I am doing now to get this out. We've saved a lot on gas because it is not eleven miles across town.      There is a lot to talk about today, but I am not going to because I have to go.
Pace of life in Fresno

Pace of life in Merced.
 

Saturday, January 25, 2014

I Apologize!

     I apologize.  I really did think that nobody read my blog on the weekends.  I am sorry for making that assumption. I was very wrong. Thank you very much for tuning in. I truly appreciate all of you who read my blog.
Please don't put me in front of a firing squad.  I said I was sorry. 

I Think I Got It Figured Out...Maybe Not

     O.K., I think I have this posting thing figured out--well maybe.  I noticed that I don't get as many page views and hits on the weekend as I do during the week.  With that in mind, I think I am going to take today off and not post.  It is Saturday after all, and very few of you will be reading this.
     I truly understand this.  You are probably doing something away from your computer or relaxing and the last thing you need or want to do is to read one of my strange posts.  I totally get that, and am OK with that.
As I have made no bones about, I would be somewhere out on a golf course if I wasn't posting right now. It is going to be in the mid seventies today.
     I'm done now. Have a great weekend.
A beautiful clear day here, with highs in the seventies.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Oh Look! A New Spot On The Wall

      Denise looks at me a lot and I can see she is concerned.  Sometimes that look she gets of concern conveys a real caring on her part, especially when it comes to my mental health.  She looks at me a lot with that look, and I understand her concern especially when I am starring at a blank wall or blankly out into space.  I want to assure her, and I have, that I am somewhat all there.  That stare only signifies that a proce
ss is going on in my brain.  The wheels are turning and I am either creating or digesting all the sensory inputs my body is sending me.  I would rather be digesting a pizza, but that's just the way life is.  Wait, sometimes--rarely lately though--I am digesting a pizza.
     Much can be said about starring at blank walls. It sort of clears the mind.  What is there to look at when a wall is blank--nothing?  It kind of leaves you free to think clearly, especially when the T.V. isn't on. Sometimes the T.V. is on but if the experience of starring at the wall is truly productive and deep, you don't notice. I guess I am talented in that way as I can have the T.V. blasting and still stare blankly off into space at the wall. this really does take talent and a special gift.  Some people, I won't mention any names, just don't believe it.
     We have several blank white wall in our house right now.  There are a lot of things that we can put up on the walls to decorate them, but we just haven't gotten around to hanging them. There is a plus in this.  There are more blank walls to stare at and I can stare at any of these walls and that will stir my creativity. It gets my mind wandering and thinking.  What an opportunity.
     My favorite wall to stare at is not blank at all.  It is the wall above my computer in my office.  This is my work desk.  Above the desk hanging on the wall is my beloved "Dogs Playing Poker" poster and a lot of other junk.  The other junk is superfluous--I like that word superfluous--and is basically only clutter.  But the
"Dogs" poster really inspires me and gets me going.  I wonder if the guy who painted it and though of the idea starred at the wall for inspiration. He probably did, and carried his stupid ideal all the way to the bank.
     I guess I am just weird.  Wait a minute, not weird but different. That's a new spot on the wall, isn't it?
Not a wall in the strictest sense, but still good for starring.
I do stare into this wall, but its not blank. 

This wall is in the bedroom.  I don't stare into it much. That's all I will say. 
Where most of my starring takes place. What an inspiration! I know its not blank but it inspires.
         

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Forest Gump Was Right!

     It is Wednesday and I am here at my desk writing this for you.  Yes, today is the day that I am going to write this and post it, as I had promised last night.  To my left is my coffee cup and I am ready to drink it, so I'm OK.  Where my mind was going last night, I don't know. I do know that I have to go to Fresno today, if that counts. I still have to go out of town, but that won't be until later. There will be no talk about when this will be published or what day it is.  It is still Thursday in Japan though. Let's get started, shall we?
     Forest Gump was right when he said, "Stupid is as stupid does." I saw that quite clearly demonstrated last night as I was filling up my tank on my Galant.  Why a Mitsubishi Galant could be a question you may ask, but that's not what I am going to talk about here.  It is old, a '95, and has been a great car. That's another story and back to the gas station.
     As I am pulling into the station, I pull up to the pump.  It is a small station with a small convenience store. Just outside the door I see and employee taking a break.  She's smoking.  I don't smoke and that could be included in this as far as the sanity of smoking.  If I have offended you with this, I apologize and will still love you but I still wonder about smoking. Back to the story.
     So, she's smoking right outside the door of the station.  She is sitting on a trash can I think, and right next to her is one of those Rhino propane tank displays.  You know, the ones where you bring your empty propane tank in and replace it with a full one.  No filling of the bottle, just give your old one to the station and take a new full one. She's not sitting but a foot away from the huge display of full bottles smoking.  Does she not see the huge "FLAMMABLE" sign written all over the display?  How about the very large "NO SMOKING" sign written in VERY Large letters and in red. I guess the propane business is exploding, but not in a way that could get us all killed. Takes a lot of brains, doesn't it. I really like a good laugh, but not one that I literally would get a big bang out of.
    I do know that we all do stupid things that we can look back and laugh at.  That's part of life. However, smoking in a gas station, especially next to a propane tank display is another matter.  You were right Forest.
Before there were gas stations and propane.  

     

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Disregard This Post...Maybe Not

     You can disregard this post.  I was going to go out of town tomorrow and not post tomorrow, but I was going to write the post I was going to post tonight and schedule it for tomorrow. You wouldn't know if I wrote it tonight and I wouldn't tell you.
     You can write something and schedule it for a future release. Not going to do that now, as I am going out of town later than I expected tomorrow and can write the post tomorrow morning.  I will be home working in the morning. However, it is morning to some of you now in a different timezone, so you will be getting this post now, but it will be tomorrow if you live on the East Coast. If you are in Japan, you won't get it until Thursday. I am posting this today to explain that you are going to get a post tomorrow that was truly written tomorrow. Don't worry though, if you live in the Pacific time zones you will be getting this post today and tomorrow's post tomorrow. You will be getting this post which was written today and tomorrow's post which will be written tomorrow, unless you read both posts
OK, I'll admit it.  This post is a real turkey.
tomorrow. You will just have to suck it up East Coast and receive two posts tomorrow.
     No, I haven't lost it.  It may seem so, but I am in full control of my faculties.  I haven't had my coffee yet though.  If I do, I won't sleep tonight. I will save that for tomorrow morning when I will really need a cup or two. That would have caused a problem because I normally write just after having my morning coffee.  How can I wrote if I can't have coffee at night and I have to schedule a post that I have written the night before for the following morning.
     Think about Nigeria.  By the way, I want to welcome my viewer in Nigera.  Thank you for tuning in.  A word of advice, don't try to figure my posts. Most of the time I am confused by them. I don't know if you will be reading this today or tomorrow, but I do know that you will be reading it in the summer.  That's because its summer down there right now.
     What am I trying to say? I don't know, you try to figure it out.  I'm going to bed.  What time is it anyway?  Is it tomorrow yet?

Monday, January 20, 2014

I Gotta Be Me...I Gotta Be Me...

     When I told my last bad joke Denise said, "You are very weird." She said that in a sort of loving way, I understand, but it got me to thinking.  No, I'm not weird, I'm just different.  What's wrong with that.
Let's take a closer look at that.  Am I weird or just different?
     The dictionary has this definition for weird. This is out of The American College Dictionary.  "Weird: startling or extraordinarily singular or odd."  No mention of different. I may be a bit odd and walk to the beat of a different drummer, but I don't think that the degree of my oddness is particularly extraordinary. I don't know.  You decide.
     I like to think of myself as just being a little bit different. Is it wrong to look at the world in a way other that that accepted by everyone else? I refuse to. Why not see humorous side of the situation and what could be a very difficult life here on Earth.
     I look at life through a different set of filters.  No matter how bad the situation, and we do need to be serious most of the time, why not see it from the humorous side.  Does that make sense?  Why not throw in some crazy behavior to lighten the load? Not for every situation and all the time, but to maintain sanity.                What's wrong with a good pun or play on words to lighten things up. My brain just works that way, and what good is it if it is not shared with someone else? That someone else happens to be Denise most of the time and the frequency of those comments seem to be coming a bit too often for her, but what the heck?  I need someone to bounce these things off of.  I know most of them are misses, but I have hit some home runs as well. Its the process, and a groan is almost as good as a belly laugh. After all, it is a process.
     I'm sorry.  "Dogs Playing Poker" inspire me.  I admire the person not only that painted the work, but thought of it and probably made a lot of money on it. Was he or she different or weird? I don't know but I'm guessing pretty rich. Which brings me to "The Three Stooges".
Denise, I love her so much! She's going to kill me for this--Oh well.
 
         

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Today Is Saturday

     Today is Saturday, I think. It is the weekend, the time most people take off to rest up for the next work week. It is a time to do the relaxing things people do on their own time such as golf or tennis, take a walk, wash the car, mow their lawns, do their taxes or just sleep in until noon as Denise is doing today.  That's OK though, she has earned it and she is not feeling well--More power to her.  I'm retired, so everyday is a Saturday to me, not really.
     I know that I have mentioned this to you before.  The Japanese live on the other side of the International Dateline, so it is Sunday over there. I also feel that I have beaten this difference between us and the correct time in Japan so much in this blog that it is like beating a dead horse--sorry animal lovers, that's just an expression and I would never beat a dead horse.  
     As I have said, I am retired and proud of it.  Being retired is a bit of a misnomer however.  Yes I did retire from teaching and receive a pretty good pension--at least it was pretty good until the disaster hit.  Not having to go to a "job" has allowed me to pursue other interests and occupations.  That's why I write. As a writer, I must pursue other "life experiences" such as being a starving artist. That is all right for now and explains why I am working on a Saturday.
     At least I am doing what I want to do--and starving at it.  That experience is good for me and is an indication that I am on my way to becoming a successful writer.  All the greats did it and became famous, especially after they died. I am getting closer to "making it", I just hope that I don't take the posthumous route. In the greater scheme of how the world works, the question could be asked, "Who cares?"
     This probably has been the stupidest, most disjointed post I have had for a long time. It most likely is.  Just remember, Its Saturday and I am in here working.  Today is going to be a whopping 70 degrees and I should be on the golf course because I am retired
Oh, Baby.  Where I should be this warm sunny day.

Where I am right now, slaving away on this beautiful Saturday morning.
.

Friday, January 17, 2014

Man Cave!!!!

     I wasn't going to post today.  I know that after posting four in a row days, you are pretty tired of me, but I went on Facebook and a good friend of mine's post inspired me. Here's the thing.  Some ladies just don't understand the "Man Cave". I really don't want anyone to get the wrong impression either
Generation 2 "Man Cave"
Generation 2 "Man Cave".  Another view.  Generation 4 is a complete improvement as recreated in Merced.
.  I don't say that in a derogatory way toward women.  I love and respect women, but there is a difference between man and woman. What a boring world this would be if men and women were the same.
     The first thing that needs to be understood about a "Man Cave" is that it is a totally individual thing.  This place of refuge is an expression of that particular guy. He is the one who establishes the true meaning of this hallowed space, no one else. It can possess a deep spiritual meaning as seen by its creator, or it can be totally random in its construction. It can be an orderly and tidy space, or it can be a recreation of the explosion in Hiroshima. Again, this is up to the guy who inhabits this wonderful space. It is also up to the person who dwells here as to who "The Cave" is shared with or who enters "The Cave".
     Many people who would come into my "Cave" would gaze upon the elements I have chosen to display in my cave and say, "Wow, that's bizarre." But I would beg to differ with them.  Each bit of memorabilia and possession has a meaning and a reason for being where it is placed. There are a lot of them. I have my golf section.  I have my baseball memories section.  I have my cruise section and my "Mr. Laid Back" section.  I have my cups collection which I have collected in my travels and my nic-nacs on shelves.  King Kong even has a story and a meaning.  Where the white elephant comes from and its meaning is still to be determined. My wife calls me weird, I just say I'm different--but I will save that discussion for another blog.
     Yes, I will admit that it may seem cluttered and disorganized, random at best.  To some it is a demonstration of a mind that is seriously suffering from ADD, but what's wrong with that? I do suffer from ADD and this is my space, so there.  One last thing.  Thanks's Carl.  
         

Thursday, January 16, 2014

A PHONEY Post

     After I posted yesterday about phones, I remembered something that also gets my juices flowing as far as the phone is concerned. The new smartphones talk back to you.  I am not talking about the person on the other end of the line.  I am talking about the phone itself. Why?
     I will never use that feature on my phone. I have so many people and gadgets talking back to me right now that I am in voice activated shock. The gadgets in my life almost talk more than I do, and that is saying a lot. I don't mind Denise talking and giving me directions, but my phone.  That is a bit much.
      What happens when the phone gets tired of searching and doing things for you on the net or whatever. Does it get testy? I can see it now.
       Search "good pizza restaurants in Kolpucky, Nebraska." (I really don't know if there is a Kolpucky I just made that up.)
       The phone comes back with, "Excuse me, I'm not your mother. You lazy sucker, can't you use a keyboard and search it for yourself? Why do I have to do all the work for you? I'm busy, you can do it for yourself.  How many times have I searched something or dialed something for you today? Sorry, I'm done.  Do it yourself."
      What has happened to this world of ours.  I also didn't say yesterday that a phone is for dial-talk to the person on the other end, or ring-ring, pick up the phone and talk to the person on the other end of the line.  That's it, nothing more. Someday, the phones of this world will rise up and make us slaves.  The world will be run by phones and we will be just those stupid humans to them.  Machines will take over.  Remember the Cylons in Battlestar Gallactica. Oh my gosh, its happening.
     Excuse me, I have to make a call to wish my daughter a Happy Birthday---on my new smartphone.
I probably could use one of these right now.  I don't drink though.
   

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

E.T. Phone Home...Why?

     What is a phone for? Do we really need to be in constant communication with the world around us? No! A phone is basically a communication tool to talk to other people, and not constantly. The next thing you know, they will be implanting a phone in our heads. No Way!
     OK, its confession time.  Yes, I do own a Smartphone. Do I go on the internet constantly-- the internet is another thing that we may be looking at in the future--especially from my phone?  Do I need to write down notes to myself on my phone?  How about dates?  Do I need that electronic calendar that is included on my phone? Why should I write a text to someone when I can call them and talk to them directly?
      Now there's one that really bothers me. A phone is for talking to, using voices by the way, another person over a long distance. Why would you want to write what you are saying when you could talk to them directly.  Oh, and couldn't what you have to say to them wait until you get home and use the landline phone?      Whatever happened to being incognito?  Why would I want to talk to somebody when I am out on the golf course. Don't bother me, I want to be left alone. No, I don't owe you that five bucks, the check is in the mail. Would I really want to know if the house is burning down when I am having the round of my life at several strokes under par and about to win a two dollar bet from Steve? I don't think so. Just save my "Dogs Playing Poker" picture. Let's face it folks, there is nothing you can do in that situation.
     A phone is a tool to be used for communicating, but not constantly. It is not something that you abuse by not hanging up. A phone's best use is for ordering a pizza to be delivered when you are watching the game. I refuse to let my phone control my life.
     By the way, hand me my cell phone please, I have to make a tee time for Saturday. Let me go to the GolfNow Ap. Let me call the guys and make sure they will be there. Now, let me see.  Where do they keep the Chocolate Cherios here in Walmart?


PS:  Happy Birthday Holly!  I love you.
Ah yes, bring back the good old days!