Where Are You Southern Hemisphere?

     Where are you Southern Hemisphere? I noticed on my countries list and I have no followers or readers in the countries of the Southern Hemisphere. I did have a stray Aussie a couple of years ago, but that was a long time.  You are not keeping your end of the bargain, Southern Hemisphere. I would love to have you.
     What can I do to encourage you to read my blog? Is there something I can do to help you along?  Should I be doing something differently?  If I offended you in any way, I apologize.  I don't mean to, and if I do its all in good fun.  You can ask my Polish reader.  I haven't offended you, have I--you in Poland? I thank you and appreciate you for reading this stuff on a regular basis.  Soon, I will start in on my Russian friends but I don't want to get on Putin's bad side.  I do follow world events.
     Let me try something here.  I am going to stand on my head and write.  This will sort of give me the feeling of what it must be like in the Southern Hemisphere.  Here I go. Gjillik kinggsd  fiiidsh sibllisl lso. Illn ggo oflsk sssilafa d. Ow! That hurt my head. I can't be damaging my head as there is not much up there to use.
  Let me see what I wrote.  Uh-oh, that didn't work.  I guess I will have to try something else.
    How about if I write everything backwards.  Water flows in the opposite direction down there.  The water flushes in the other direction, I'm not sure that it is important which.  Hold on, let me go flush my toilet to find out.
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OK, it goes counter clockwise, excuse me anti-cyclonic.  I had to go find that out. It goes clockwise-cyclonic-in the Southern Hemisphere.  I bet you thought I didn't know that, didn't you. Sometimes I surprise myself.  Don't play Trivia Pursuit with me. I can't find anyone who will, but that';s entirely another story.
     Let me try something else. I'm going to try to write this backwards and see if that helps. Are you ready, because here it comes:
.erehpsimeH nrnehtuoS eht ni uoy ot olleH 
That was hard.  You must have some sort of computer program that can do that faster.  It really taxes my small brain.  Surely Microsoft or Apple has come up with some sort of translator program.  How about Rosetta Stone, they must have a program that teaches that.  How about a book called "Southern Hemisphere For Dummies".  That kind of makes sense.
     Do you really walk on your hands down there instead of your feet? I guess that down is up and up is down.  The whole thing must take a bit of getting used to.
     By the way, if you are a golfer, make sure you check out my new website http://the-golf-course-travel-bag.com.  I have a lot of golf and travel stuff on it and I think you will enjoy it.  I have also started making U-tube videos and you will find them there as well. Take a look.

I took this picture of my daughter at the Berlin Wall museum in Sydney.  I got tired of walking on my hands all the time.

    

Trump National Los Angeles UTube 0001

Who is "We" part three.

     I wasn't going to have a part three in this series, but there are a lot of things that happen in my life that I say I am not going to do and I do. I catch myself saying "I will never do that", and sure enough I do it.  Take moving to Merced and that is only one example. You will just have to live with the fact that sometimes things change and you have to do what you got to do, even though you have said that you wouldn't.
     Eating asparagus or broccoli is also that sort of decision.  I said I would never eat asparagus or broccoli, but I have gone back on that one. Brussels sprouts are still safe.  We don't eat Brussels sprouts.  By the way, were they really invented in Brussels? We won't know will we.  Maybe "they" know.
     Why was it that "they" got all the fun and "we" had to behave?  You kind of have to wonder about this one. "They" got to play in the mud and build all kind of cool forts and stuff, while "we" had to stay clean and watch. That mud looked so inviting.  I hated being part of "we" and not one of "they".
     Here are some things that are "we" verses "they".  I hope that they spark a bit of a memory in you.  here goes.

"We" don't wear shorts to church on Sunday.
"We" don't put our mouths on the drinking fountain.  I could never figure that one out.
"We" always wear clean underwear. That makes sense, because what would happen if you were in an automobile accident?
"We" always wait an hour after we eat before we go back in the swimming pool because "we" don't want to get cramps and drown in the pool.  Funny thing though, I have swam at bar-b-ques that "they" put where everyone stuffed themselves to the gills and went back in to the pool shortly after they ate and I didn't see anyone drown.
"We" don't play like that, because you might get hurt.  The last person I heard that told to became an Olympic Gold Medalist in Men's Gymnastics. Too bad though, his sister only got the Bronze.
"We" don't play golf, that's for rich people and old men.  I can understand the rich people but kind of wonder about the old men part.  Am I an old man now.  DON'T YOU DARE ANSWER THAT!
"We" don't wear our cap on backwards.  I admit, I am guilty of this one.
"We" don't speak when there are elders around.  I blew this one out of the water. If I had something to say and it was profound, I said it no matter who was around. None of this "Little children should be seen and not heard" garbage.  I let 'em have it.
"We" don't drive Chevys.
"We" don't drive Fords.
"We" sure as hell don't drive a Fiat. How did they buy Chrysler, by the way?
"We" absolutely, positively sure as hell don't drive a Kia.

     I have bothered you enough today with this drivel, but it is something to think about.  If you have a "We" verses "They", please share it with me.  I have to run now as I haven't had my coffee yet.  You know what that does to me. "We" don't start the day without our coffee.

"We" don't stand in front of the cannon before we fire it.

 












   

Who is "We" (Part 2)

    Who  are "we"?  Who are they?  Why is it that "we" always do the right thing and "they" always don't.
How do "they" reform and become part of "we"? Is it possible?  I don't know.  I know that this is a very short post, but there is a lot here to be considered. 
     I don't want you to melt down as you are contemplating this, so be careful.  Don't try to resolve all of this at one time. Take brief snippets of time to ponder the seriousness of all this and how it effects your daily lives. This stuff is important, almost as important as having your morning cup of coffee.  I'd drinking mine right now.
    I just want you to remember that "we" don't loop the toilet paper under the roll--I hate that, don't you--and "they will never get that highway bypass around Los Banos done.  Sorry about that to those of you who don't live in the Central Valley of California, I thought I would throw that in there.  How about "they" are working on the traffic in Los Angeles or the smog in Bejing?
    Do "they" have a "we" and a "they" in Poland?  Come on Poland, I need your answer.

"They" put my son in jail.  Not really, It was only make believe (darn).

 

 

 

 

 

Who is "We"?

     Does anyone other than myself wonder about the overuse of the pronoun "we"?  Probably not, because I think about some really strange stuff.  Remember though, I am not weird, just different.  In my opinion, we overuse the word "we".  Keep in mind that that is just my opinion, and I am still under house arrest being guarded by the two sippee cup guards outside my door. That should kind of put things in their proper perspective.
     This explanation of  what I am talking about may get convoluted as I am thinking about how to say it as I am writing this, so just bear with me a bit.  It may get a little strange, but hang in there. If you have been one of my readers, you know what I am talking about. You there in Poland, you are on your own.  Here goes, and I want you to think about this as it is truly profound as are all my observations and comments on life.
     My wife and I--notice I didn't use the word we--were out and about doing something with my stepdaughter and grandson Szczepan.  I changed my grandson's name here to protect the innocent.  His name really isn't Szczepan but I needed a name and I wanted to get my Polish readers involved here so I changed it to a Polish first name. Where were we, I mean where was I?  Oh yes, we--uh, my wife and I with my step daughter and grandson--were out and about.  Szczepan picked up a cigarette butt from the ground and what was my wife AND my step daughter's immediate reaction?  WE don't pick up cigarette butts off the ground. They said it almost simultaneously--again to help those of you in Poland they said it at the same exact time. Hmmmm....
     This brings about a good question.  If we don't do something, who does?  You would think that the answer would be "they" do.  Who is "they"?  Are "they" bad and evil people or just misguided by the dark side of the universe.  I don't know. More about this later when I talk about who "we" are and who "they" are.  One more thing to think about.  Are "they" dangerous?

I am thoroughly convinced "they" did this.

A Very Special Day

"Let me win.  But if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt."   -The Special Olympics Athletes Oath   

      As many of my friends know, I don't make any secrets to the fact that I play golf.  My son and daughter as well as my wife play golf.  It is a sport that we enjoy very much and has its challenges and rewards. Someone has also been said that you can tell a lot about a person by the way they play golf.  All of this is true.  It could be said that I am a golf nut. On Thursday, my perspective on the game and of life itself changed.  I participated with my son in a Special Olympics Golf Tournament.This was truly a "Special" day.
     I am no stranger to playing in golf tournaments.  In fact, a few years ago it was my pleasure to play in an high level regional event where I had to qualify to get in.  This was golf at a high tournament level.  We played on the best courses and against the best competition. Every little aspect of the game mattered, especially the score. The stakes were high, even though we weren't playing for money.  You really wanted to have your"A" game going and play well. The pressure was on, even though it was a lot of fun.
     Thursday was different.  We played on a course that was a par three course and holes were no longer than 180 yards.  There were no 400 yard par fours or lengthy 600 yard par fives. The course was not in the best of shape. The greens were not fast and true, but bumpy and slow at best. This was not the PGA, but you wouldn't know it if you looked at the faces of the competitors. You could see the simple joy of just competing in each of their faces. Believe me, their enthusiasm was contagious.
     We all talk about what courage is. I saw the true definition of courage in all the athletes.  No matter what their circumstances, they participated and had a lot of fun.  One athlete that played in my foursome perhaps demonstrated that true quality of courage.  Her name was Maria and she played from a wheelchair. She didn't hit the ball far, in fact the ball never went more than twenty yards but that didn't matter.  Just the look on her face and the determination that she showed touched me in a way that I will not soon forget. She squeezed every ounce of joy she could from the experience. I am still getting goose bumps just remembering the time with her.
     I had a lot of fun at this tournament and was taught a lot about the game of golf and life itself-- more than you will know and certainly more than I would have ever imagined.  

This is the true definition of courage and competition.

 

Hi, And Welcome!

     I looked on my audience stats and saw this morning that I have a new reader from Italy.  I would like to say bon giorno or bono sera to you.  I don't know if it is morning or night there in Italy, but I wanted to welcome you to the family of readers.  I am half Italian, but I don't speak Italian. I'm also half Greek and do speak enough Greek to get me arrested in Athens or to order an ouzo.  At any rate, welcome. I was going to share a bit of Italian cuisine with you, the picture of a great pizza but its on my phone and I haven't downloaded it yet. Oops, I forgot that they don't make pizza like we are accustomed to in Italy.  Sorry, I welcome you anyway.  Maybe I will get a picture of a good shrimp scampi or fettuchine alfredo and send that another time.
     Hi to you in Poland!
     Today is a holiday here in the United States and I am not working today.  I am going to keep this post short.  Today is the day we remember those who served in the Armed Forces of The United States to preserve our freedom.  I salute you and give you a hearty and well deserved thank you!

Remember those who served to preserve our freedom.

   

Thank God I Woke Up!

     As you know, things have been a bit stressful around here.  The guards-- you know, the ones with the sipee cups--have become a bit more aggressive and don't allow me to roam the castle freely as much.  They fear that I am communicating with the underground.  That's not true by the way, I just talk to myself in here a lot. The queen has gone over to the invaders so I am left alone in my office to be retrained.  Such is life.
     I haven't been sleeping well lately.  The night's sleep seems to have gotten shorter and I get less of it. The sleep that I do get isn't deep and refreshing, its shallow and restless.  What do you expect having to carry on the burdens of my people and their freedom.  These invaders are vicious and relentless.  I do not understand their culture.
     The mind does some crazy things.  Sometimes as we sleep it produces images-dreams- that are in deed strange and sort of off the wall. Such was the case the other night as I awoke from a sound sleep in a horrible sweat. The horrible dream that I experienced could only be attributed to my stress.
      Here is the basic happenings in that dream:

    As it turns out, there was this incredible new thing that came out--something using seaweed if I remember correctly--that was newest and greatest best thing. It cured cancer, was tremendously effective in weight loss, preserved the upholstery of your car and kept you teeth bright as well. This new wonder product came out of nowhere and was only available through an MLM, or multi-level marketing distributor ship.
     The upline of this product seemed to come out of nowhere as did the product. Nobody knew a thing about them.  They held their meetings and sold their distributorships and thousands joined.  The meeting were required and all distributors had to go and they were required to bring at least two people along.
The meetings were held by the company uplines, who nobody had heard of before. They essentially had appeared as if from space--you probably know where I am going with this.  People started disappearing, no one knew where these people who attended these meetings went.
     THEY WERE EATEN BY THE UPLINE AS THEY WERE ALIENS FROM ANOTHER PLANET!

OK, I know that seems a bit bizarre, and it is.  You have to realize the stress I am under right now.  I really am OK, and safe but it is a bit hectic right now. As a disclaimer, I have nothing against MLM companies and I have in fact been a part of them.  Don't hold that against me please.
     I want to again assure you that I am in fact sane--I think. My cereal is getting soggy so I think I will go eat it.
  That dream was scary.
       

The helmet the Aliens wore at their meetings.

 

Cereal Serial...Last Part, I Promise

     I promise that this will be the last in the Cereal Serial series.  However, I may do my politician act and that may not be the case. Read my lips, no new taxes.  I liked that one and actually voted for the man.  Here's a recent one.  You can keep your Doctor and your health care plan. That was a good one. So, I will go on record as saying this will be the last Cereal Serial, I promise and I am not asking for your vote.
     Here are a couple of questions for the ages. I like asking you these questions because it is my job to make you think and make your brain work so that it doesn't get weak. That's my job you know, and I love doing it.  Its one way I give back to the community, asking these questions to stimulate your brain. 
     Back to the questions at hand, and they are  important ones.You probably have never considered this before, but we must all look at the world at times from a different perspective, not a weird one, just a different one. As I have said many times, I am not weird, just different. 
     When you are finishing a bowl of cereal (Do they eat cereal in Poland?  I'm not saying that to be insulting, I would just like to know), what do you do with the last few Cherios or Fruit Loops or Frosted Flakes left floating in the bowl? Do you patiently fish them out and eat them? What about the milk left in the bowl.  Now that is a question to consider.  Do you drink the milk or throw it down the drain?  I'll give you some time to think about it and consider your actions.
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Do Do Do Do Do Do-Do, Do Do Do Do Doot Du Dot Dot Do (Jeopardy Theme, I thought that was a bit of a humorous touch.)  I'll give you a minute more or so.
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     Times Up so what did you come up with? You can make up your own minds, but personally I fish out the last flakes and drink the milk.  It doesn't taste like milk any more anyway.  Besides, just think of all the people who are starving out there in the world. Those of you who just throw out the few flakes left in the bowl along with the milk should consider this when you carelessly throw out this perfectly good and nutritious food.  Especially if the cereal had been cocoa puffs.
     I love cocoa puffs and the best part of eating cocoa puffs is the chocolate milk that is left when the cereal is gone.  It is truly heaven and if you haven't tried it--especially those of you in Poland who I hope have a sense of humor and remember I'm not picking on you--you have missed one of the great pleasures of this world. My wife doesn't let me eat Cocoa Puffs anymore.  They contain too much sugar, or so she says.
     To those of you who throw out the milk and last few flakes, shame on you.  Just think of the resources of this planet that you are wasting.  Think of those who sacrificed to bring you that food.  Think of the poor cow who gave up her milk and the poor calf that didn't get their share of its mother's mild that day. Even  more think of the poor kernel of grain; whatever grain be it corn, wheat, rice or oat.  That kernel of grain gave up its life to be processed so that you could be fed.  It is an insult to the memory and sacrifice of those who gave their all so that you could eat. Let us consider their feelings as well--if they could feel.
     To those of you who eat the last loop and drink the milk in the bowl, I congratulate you and thank you! To those of you who throw this down the drain, I have a suggestion to make.  Try oatmeal or some other hot cereal where there is no milk or last flake.  Make sure you just eat it all so that you don't step on the memory of those who gave so valiantly so that you could be fed. 
     One request I do have.  This goes out to my readers in Poland.  Could you comment on if you do in fact eat cereal in Poland.  I want to learn more about Poland.

You are going to say "That's not cereal."  I know that.

The Treaty Has Been Signed!

     Before I get into my thoughts for the day and sharing with you the events tat have transpired as to the invasion, I want to acknowledge my new reader/readers in Poland.  I want to warmly welcome you and offer this bit of advice--Don't try to make any sense of my writings.  They mean absolutely nothing in the scheme of the world.  In fact, I admit that most of what I write in this setting is mindless drivel and means absolutely nothing.
     I actually have some friends who are Polish.  Wait, that isn't exactly true.  He was my chiropractor and was a big guy, a body builder. I think he was only half Polish and half Czech.  We used to play golf together and he used to crack my back. Our friendship remained strong even though he moved to Utah.  There is a lot of that going on, people moving out of California. I guess there are too many loonies--uh, excuse me, crazy people--running California. Putting a tax on the number of miles you drive in addition to the gas and sales taxes, come on.
      I suppose that I could say that I was almost directly impacted by the Polish, not to mention the Germans and the Japanese. My father had a Polish girlfriend before World War Two when he lived in Connecticut.  Her name was Helen as far as the story goes, She would cook Dad golumke (cabbage roles) and kielbasa. I like kielbasa but hate cabbage roles.  Helen was close to being my mother, but then the war came and Dad went into the Air Corps. He bid adieu to Helen and never looked back.
     Eventually he was stationed at Hammer Field in Fresno where he met my mother.  Mom was--she passed away last year--Italian. If you want to be accurate about the whole story she was Italian but ethnically Albanian.  She didn't speak Italian but a dialect of Albanian which we can also tell this story as well, but I won't. Maybe that's why a lot of people think that I am a bit weird--I say  I'm just different and defend that stance.  My good friend once said I am the way I am because of the mumps that brought the high fever when I was twenty, but I was weird--um, different--way before then.
     So, instead of golumke and kielbassa on Sunday afternoons after Mass, we had homemade spaghetti with a rich sausage/meat sauce over it and lots of romano cheese.  To this day, I still like a lot of cheese on my spaghetti, but I'm off subject here. I no longer go to the Catholic Church and have married a fine woman who is English or some sort of such. We go to a Presbyterian Church and have Mexican food after church or go to the local Applebee's.  Isn't life great!

So, I don't have many food pictures and definitely don't have a picture of a golumke. This will have to do.

 

Written In Exile...Part I Don't Know And At This Point Don't Care

     Yesterday, there was hope.  The invaders had departed and it seemed as though my ordeal was over. Perceptions being as they are, I stopped briefly to catch my breath.  The sipee cup guards had left and the coast was clear. The invaders had boarded their longboats and left.  Can you tell I've been watching too many episodes of "The Vikings"?  I do what I can though lately it has been recorded Giants games and the invaders first choice, Barney. You can just imagine the depths and brutality of their torture.
     In my search for rest and recuperation, I chose to stay in the castle. It was quiet and the castle was deserted except for the queen and myself. I was able to climb on the throne once again and enjoy the quiet. This decision to stay was regrettably the wrong decision. The invaders have returned and this time it seems that it will be for a very long occupation.

The invaders return.

 

Cereal Serial (Captains Log: Supplemental) Written In Exile Under House Arrest

     I always wanted to write a Captains Log: Supplemental.   It was so cool when Captain Kirk or Picard or Janewicz--whatever her name was--or Tucker was in trouble they would always say "Captain's Log: Supplemental".
     Yes, you could say that I have been watching too much Star Trek lately, but what else is there to do when you are confined to your office. That's not exactly true, because I don't have a TV in my office. I have to go out of my office, my sipee cup guards in tow, and go to my bedroom to turn on the TV in there. I have opted out of the torture option in favor of the exile option, the torture option being watching "Frozen" continually on the main TV in the living room.
     It is a flat screen HD TV, which in essence I have been banned from watching by the invaders. By decree of the invaders, only "Frozen", The Disney Channel, The Cartoon Channel and Nick are permitted to be aired on the TV. It is their process of indoctrination. I choose exile.
     Hold on, their queen is returning.  I must go now as they do not know that I am writing this.What lies ahead, I do not know.

This was what it looked like Sunday.  The invader's  launched their attack from the sea.  I don't know how they did it since we live 70 miles inland, but they did it.

House Arrest and Exile

     The invaders have triumphed. I have been placed under house arrest and restricted to my office.  Armed guards with sipee cups have been placed outside my door to keep me in my office and I have only restricted access to the rest of the house. One of the guards crawls with me to make sure I don't escape should I need to leave my cell for nature call.

The invader's commanding general.  Not really, this is just a picture of  my son Zack.  He's not a general at all.

My diet now consists of Fruit Loops and Macaroni and Cheese. There is a rumor that the dreaded hot dog will be tonight's dinner. My fate is as of yet unknown.

Surrender is Emenent! (I May Not Have Spelled That Right, But Oh Well)

    The moat has been crossed and the castle door has been breached. The end is near.  As I sit here in a corner of the castle, I ponder my fate.  There is no sign of relief and the outcome is no longer in doubt. We have lost the battle.  The invaders have triumphed and it is just a matter of time before it is all at an end. I have, along with my beautiful queen have fought the valiant fight. All hope is lost and I bid you a fond farewell.
     Well, not really as I probably will write something else soon. After all, I'm not dead just suffering the effects of house guests--one step daughter, three step grandchildren and my youngest daughter. The quiet house is no longer.  

Situation Update...Send Help Fast!

     The garrison has survived the night but cannot hold out. Provisions are low as is ammunition (nerves). We are still fighting, but it is not known how much longer we can hold out. Send resupply and reinforcements soon. Should help arrive soon, this may be our last communication.
     Hello to those of you reading this in Poland and in Germany.  All this may not make a bit of sense but hang in there.

Situation Desparate...This Garrison Cannot Hold Out Much Longer..

     HELP! MAYDAY, MAYDAY! Broken Arrow!  This garrison needs immediate reinforcement or it will fall. Send help immediately!
     The castle is under attack.  We are surrounded and the situation is desperate.  We cannot hold out much longer. The invaders have cut off our lines of resupply and we do not know when the lines of communication will be cut.
     All right, you may think that what I wrote was a little off the wall and makes no sense.  I am not going to explain it in detail--I'm too tired for that and right now I am in hiding. What I will do is explain the events of today. What was supposed to be a quiet house with just Denise and I quietly watching the San Francisco Giants play baseball on TV--recorded I might add--has turned into a disaster area. They have returned.
     I want to go on record as saying that the "Empty Nest" theory is a crock of smelly excrement. Whoever suggested the idea that children leave their parents for their own lives away out in the big world to find their own fortunes could not have been a parent. They always come back.  They did tonight.
     It started last week when my youngest daughter called and said that she had no place to stay.  She didn't ask to move in for the summer, but I knew what she was trying to ask.  I thought I would save her the embarrassment. Of course I said she could move in, but with conditions.  She must pay her rent and phone bill on time as well as go to school. She agreed and made arrangements to move in today. That's fine, because we did have the space after Denise's son went into the Army.
     Denise received a call from her daughter about troubles at her home and could she spend a few days with us. She has three young children by the way.  Of course Denise said yes.  What was I to do. Voiala, instant madhouse.  There goes the quiet house with just Denise and I. This caused me to hide as my ADD kicked in and I am overwhelmed.
     The person who put forth the idea of an empty nest should be...well, you fill in the blank. Montana is looking very good.

The only thing that was not pillaged from the castle.

   

Cereal Serial...Part Three (And Final Part-Probably)

     Cereal, whether it is made from wheat, corn, oats or rice is good for you and really gets you off to a good start nutritiously in the morning.  I know this. It says that on the sugar smacks commercial I always see on TV.  TV doesn't lie. The commercial says "Sugar Smacks--Part of a nutritious breakfast." and just like the internet--TV doesn't lie.  Its the truth.
     We are all very fortunate to have these wonderful breakfast concoctions to make life better.  They have truly added to our lives in a positive way.  How else would we get our dosage of quick energy in the morning than from a freshly poured bowl of Cap'n Crunch and a cup of coffee.  There is a lot of good stuff in Cap'n Crunch Cereal.  Look at all that nutrition derived from oats. Read the label on the box. The sugar alone should keep you going at least a half hour after you have eaten them. Again, it is part of a nutritious breakfast. The same is true for Cocoa Puffs, Lucky Charms and Sugar Pops.  Let's not forget the king of breakfast cereals, Kelloggs Sugar Frosted Flakes. Can you say "Power Breakfast"?
     I will admit it, I love Fruit Loops.  In fact, I have been accused of being a Fruit Loop but that's another story. As you know, I am full of other stories as well as other unmentionable stuff but we won't go there. The Fruit Loop is perhaps the most critical invention in the history of man.  Just think about it for a minute.  It is truly a miracle breakthrough in nutrition.
     Let's talk about the mighty Fruit Loop for a minute, shall we?  They are a nutritional giant.  Think about it for a minute. Nutritional experts tell us we should get at least five servings of fruits and vegetables a day.  There you have it, the mighty Fruit Loop. Not only do you get the goodness of grain--which grain I don't know, I think it is corn--but you get your servings of fruit as well. You get the goodness of cherries from the red loop, the vitamin C from the orange loop and also the yellow lemon and green lime loop. That saves the time of actually peeling an orange or washing cherries of their pesticides. That's American ingenuity at its best--only in America. It kind of takes your breath away.
     I tried to invent my own breakfast cereal, but neither Post nor Kellogg's would have anything to do with it.  I tried to chop up Snicker bars and threw in some Reese's Pieces just for good measure in a bowl and poured milk on it. OK, I will admit that it didn't quite work but what the heck.  I thought I would give it a try. Just think of all that nutrition and protein that is in a Snicker bar.

That's my son.  He is a Fruit Loop just like me. That gives me an idea. How about a cereal based on a bacon wrapped corn dog.  What an idea!

 

Cereal Serial...Part 2

     I suppose that a serial entry should be no more than a day apart.  Is that a written rule?  I don't know. Give me a break, I have been busy. Besides, haven't you been anxiously awaiting this installment of Cereal Serial excited by the fact that you are going to be enlightened on the subject of cereal? Isn't that a topic that you have been dying to explore all your life and the information I give to you--you can't live without? OK, maybe its not that important (you know, I had that its-it's thing pretty well figured out for a time but I lost it) and you can live without that information, but here goes anyway.  Besides, I want to get you thinking.
      Excuse me for a minute, I have to go back and read what I wrote in Cerieal Serial Part 1. Yada-yada, yada-yada, yada, yada, yada yada.  OK, I'm ready. See, now you have to go back and read it.  If you haven't done that already, I just want to let you know that there will be a test.I just poured myself a bowl of Cherios and I am ready to go.
     Who invented cereal for breakfast anyway.  I think Mr. Kellogg had something to do with it.  He felt that cornmeal pressed into flakes and served over milk was a contributor of good health.  He also believed in coffee enimas as well, so I am not sure as to the validity of his claims.  At any rate, he did give us one of the forerunners of the modern day breakfast cereal, the corn flake.  It is still around today, and you probably are enjoying a bowl of corn flakes as we speak.  If you are, great. Why not add some sugar stuck to the flakes.  Voila! Tony the Tiger is born and hawking Sugar Frosted Flakes. Dr. Kellogg probably turned over in his grave for that one.
    I have much more to say on this. You will just have to wait, I'm sorry.  I have to go enjoy my Cherios before they get soggy.

     
     

I know its a bad picture, but it will have to do in a pinch. This was a great breakfast, but where are the corn flakes?

      

Cereal Serial--Part One

     Did you like that title? I did. Sometimes I crack myself up. I have cracked myself up before, especially after totaling three cars-for those of you not in the US and unfamiliar with American slang, totaling means crashing a car with the result being the car is a total loss hence the word "total" as in total loss. Putting that aside--I wasn't injured that badly in any of the crashes, just maybe a good bump in the head which probably explains a lot of things--what was I talking about? Oh yes, I was introducing today's subject.
     I love life. If you just slow down to look at the world around you, there is a lot to see. Having said that, in what you see there is a lot to think about. I do that a lot, ponder the world. Yesterday it was breakfast time and breakfast was Cherios. Let's think about that one for a bit, shall we?
     The American breakfast is truly unique among the breakfasts of the world. I have been in Europe and they don't do a hearty breakfast like we do. It's called Continental and consists of pastry, juice, coffee or tea, maybe a thing of yogurt--I like yogurt by the way and grew up on the plain, but never for breakfast--and perhaps a hard boiled egg. I don't know what they do in China, but I suppose I could find out but not now. Google here I come.
     Breakfast here in America used to be something like bacon and eggs with hash brown potatoes--home fries for those not on the West Coast--toast or biscuits and gravy. Sometimes pancakes were included or were a meal by themselves.  At any rate, breakfast was the anchor meal of the day. We took the time and sat down and ate, boy did we eat, and we still do.  All of that took a lot of time, time we couldn't spend in preparation of food. There had to be something quicker.  We tried oatmeal--bluck. There had to be something better. You will just have to wait until tomorrow to find out what happens next.  I don't know either because I haven't thought this out that far yet, but I will.
 

I tried cupcakes for breakfast, but they just didn't work, even with milk.

OWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!

     All I have to say is I am sore.  NO, you don't understand, I AM SORE. People always say that you are sore in places you thought you didn't have when you do something athletic. Well, I am sore in those places and in places I knew I had but have been gone for a long time.
     Let me explain all this.  I played in a golf tournament yesterday called The 100 Hole Golf Marathon. It was for a good cause, and as you know I love to play golf.  So, my brain said, "Why not?" My body was a bit more skeptical. In that sense, I apologize to my body for submitting it to such an ordeal. It is mad at me today, I can tell.
     I am really surprised that my spelling is so good and I am not making many typos as I am having to write this with my nose, as it is the only place on my body that doesn't hurt. Excuse me for a minute, I need a sip of coffee--OWWWW!. Bring on the Ibuprophen, I need it.  What? We are out of Ibuprophen?  NOOOOOOOO!!!!!

What a swing! I was in better shape then.

Eli's Coming...No, Its Only The Landlord (Part 2)

    They're here. By the way, we really didn't bury a body in the back yard.  It was a symbolic burial and she made me do it.

Eli's Coming...Not Really, Only The Landlord

    Today is the day of reckoning. Our lives as a married couple is dependent on today. You can cut the stress here today with a knife. Not only is today the first performance of the Easter Cantata--who uses that word anymore--but also it is the day of the first visit of our landlord. This day shall be a day that goes down in infamy.  Hey wait, that line was used before, I think.
     I am OK. The choir director is a bit stressed. I guess we Mediteranean Americans have a different way of dealing with stress--no, not ouzo though that does help in some cases.  Dago Red doesn't help all that much either. A good sit out in the sunshine is good. So is writing some humorous--humourous for those of you in Canada and Great Britan--lines to get others chuckling. It is truly great for the soul. Of course, why worry?
     Landlords have codes.  The code for today was, "We want to come over and change the air conditioning filters and trim some of the trees in the back yard."

  Yes right, and I can keep my doctor and my good health insurance as well.  Sorry, I just had to throw that in there. What they want to do is to catch us abusing their property. That's not going to happen. I don't mind them coming to check up, we have nothing to hide.
     Rest assured, we are taking care of the place as best we can.  It is in great shape. I hope they don't notice that patch of ground where we buried the body. We will just have to take a chance on that. Honey, can we go to the grocery store and bring back a grocery cart? We may need it.

The House Before

The House Now

Joltin' Joe Has Left And Gone Away, But Dave Is still Here

     I just wanted to let you know that I haven't gone anywhere.  I haven't had the time and especially the money--to go anywhere that is. It has been a very busy time. That is no excuse, I realize that.  You all depend so much on my brightening your day with my tight wit and humor. It is a very important thing to make someone's day with a well placed bit of humor. No, I am not getting a big head.  My head is actually quite small, a 71/8.
     Your reaction to my last statement could be, "What a line of crap!" If that is your opinion, I respect that.  I realize that most of what I say and write is just that, a line of crap.  Bottom line is though, does it make you laugh, or at least chuckle. I know it does me as I am writing it. I share what I write out of the bottom of my heart, intended to make you smile.  All the more better if it is a belly laugh.
     What if your reaction is, " This is all crap and is not funny."? Let me go on the record as saying I respect that opinion as well.  We are all entitled to our opinions.  Telling you what you are to think or how you are to react would be a bad thing on my part.  I don't control you, or would I want to. I would question your sense of humor, but that is on me not you.
     Where have I been, you may be asking? I kind of think that you are not asking that question and are happy that I haven't written anything in a long time because what I write is pure drivel.  Again, that's your opinion and you are welcome to that misguided stance. Kind of like Democrat vs. Republican, but we won't go there. I have been busy on a few other projects, one of which is rehearsing with our church choir and our Easter musical. I have to work hard on that one, because I have a special relationship with the choir director. She also washes my clothes as well (Sorry dear, I just couldn't resist that one.  You know that I help.) 
    Sorry for that delay, but I went in to make the bed. See, I do help. This may seem like it is off the subject, but it is somewhat appropriate here.  Our next door neighbor builds doghouses. I may want to invest in one.  I may need it after this posts. Oh well.
     I have to run now.  I just saw my next door neighbor come out of his house. I wonder how much that big dog house costs? Maybe I'll ask him.

The doghouse wasn't ready so I had to improvise. Got a great deal on the doghouse though.

     

60 Today?

     Yep, its my birthday today.  There is something about those birthdays that have either a zero in them or a five. When you think about it, there is really no difference in a birthday that ends in zero or five than say a three or a seven, but that's just it. Something that is a multiple of ten or a multiple of five just seems different. A birthday with a nine as the last digit can be scary, but we won't talk about that. The bottom line is, today I turn sixty years old.
     A lot has happened in my life in the past sixty years.  These are not in the order of importance as I don't believe in lists. I learned to play golf. What about the fact that I got married, unmarried and married again. The married part was expected, but the unmarried part was a bit of a shock--oh well. And then came the married again part, which I am very happy to have found love again, thanks Denise. Life take some unexpected turns, but in my case it was for the best.
     I have been blessed with five wonderful children. We had some magnificent times with them growing up.  I remember the golf outings, the graduations, the births of the four grandchildren, the soccer games and of course the camping trips. Ah yes, forbidden cookies and milk in front of a campfire.  What I remember most is the looks on the faces of the wives of the campers in the next campsite who would see that I was taking my kids and their friends on a camping trip and my wife was nowhere to be found.  In defense of J...., she did go on some of those camping trips but most of the time it was me and the kids. One last word on the camping trips, I hate tents now. My idea of roughing it is a Motel 6--not to insult Motel 6.
     Funny thing though, I don't feel much different. Well, maybe there is that new pain in my shoulder and my hands ache a little more than they used to but all in all things are OK. I survived the congestive heart failure and yes, I do put a few more little colored round things in my mouth to keep me alive.  That's to be expected. I won't even mention the clunky old man shoes that I wear. Why do they cost so much, by the way?
     Like a fine wine, I'm not getting older I'm aging. With age comes character. With that said, I don't feel a day over fifty-nine. Oh, that's right.  Its my birthday and I turned sixty today.  Maybe I am a day over fifty-nine.

Denise wanted to put me into one of these.  She complains that I am just a big kid. Do they make them for 60 year olds?

 
     
        
 

Yep, This Is What 5:00 AM (PDT) Looks Like

     Is the sun even up yet? Why am I even up right now? Oh yes, I can't get anything done after 8:00 because I am too easily distracted. It's a matter of productivity and distractions. The house is quiet right now and everyone is sleeping. Just a minute, I have to go make coffee.
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     OK, I'm back.  Life is full of distractions which take us away from what we are doing.  Hold on a minute, nature calls.
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     It seems as though if I don't get things done before everyone is up and the day gets going, I will not get anything done.  Yes I do have my office and can close the door for my privacy, but something always seems to get my attention and I stop.  Once I stop, it is almost impossible to get started again. Wait a minute, the phone just rang.  Who the heck would call me at 6:00 AM (PDT)?
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     I'll be right back, the coffee is ready.  I don't like stale coffee.
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     There, that's better.  You know how I can't function without my coffee. Who would call me at 6:00AM (PDT)?  It was a friend that wanted to know if I would like to play golf today at 8:00 AM (PDT).  There is no way!  I have work to do.  See what I am saying.  If I don't get the work done now, I won't get it done. This coffee is great by the way.
    Denise want me to shed some pounds.  Maybe I should go ahead and do my crunches and stretching routine, maybe go for my
walk right now so I don't forget. Excuse me, I'll be right back.
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     Oh well, why fight it.  I've got to run now if I am going to shower, get dressed, have breakfast and be at the golf course by 8:00 AM (PDT).  

What a course!  I am retired now, you know.

Change The Change...Part 2 (And Last Part)

     Sorry I didn't finish this yesterday, but I got distracted.  There is just something about "The Showcase Round" on "The Price Is Right" that fascinates me. It seems as though the world stops at about 10:50 AM Pacific Daylight Time and that is the all important "Showcase".  Ah, the duties of retirement.
     Continuing on with the journey to turn my loose change into worthless paper, I decided to return to the Credit Union to change my change. That machine in there would not beat me, I was determined to conquer it. After all, it was just a machine and I was a human being with a superior intellect.  We humans created it, they didn't create me. Into the branch I went, and there it was.
     As I walked into the branch, the teller greeted me. " Oh, I can see you are back again, good morning."  she said cheerily.
     "Yep, I thought I would get this done."  I replied.
     "Just let me know when you are done and I will be glad to help." she said.  Now it was on to the task at hand.
     I walked up to the machine as if I owned it. If you show any fear, it will sense that. I growled at it just to show it who was boss. OK, now what do I do?  If at all else fails, check the directions. This was NOT going to beat me. Here were the directions:
1. Read and follow all directions carefully as skipping a step or not completing it accurately will result in your transaction being voided.
2.) Open the lid tab A.
3.) Pour your loose change in and the green light will flash. Press start.
4.) Raise your arms above your shoulders and then flap them like an eagle.
5.) With your arms raised and flapping like an eagle, step back 36 inches from the unit and begin rotating your body at a rate of ten revolutions a minute. Complete at least three revolutions.  Rate is critical.
6.) While rotating, sing "The Stars Spangled Banner".  In Canada it is permissible to sing "Oh Canada", eh.
7.) Look at yourself in the reflective plate and agree that you look absolutely ridiculous. You do.
8.) OK, I've had enough fun now. Take the ticket that shows the amount you have redeemed.  Give the ticket to the teller and they will redeem the ticket.
9.) Thank you.
     I went through the steps meticulously, although I was a little off key on "The Stars Spangled Banner".  Taking the ticket I went to the teller who was laughing hysterically.  Maybe it was time to lick my wounds, take the money and just run. This machine thing must be a conspiracy.

    

They tried to come take me away after turning in my change, but I wouldn't let them.

        

Change The Change...Part 1

     We have in our bedroom a vase that we put our loose change in.  Whenever we are really poor that's our go-to place for chump change, or to save us from the wolves that come to our door occasionally. Today I got bored and decided to cash the change in, as the vase had quite a bit of change in it.  That wolf hanging around our door looked awful hungry.
     A bank is a wonderful thing.  Actually, in this case it was a my Credit
Union.  They take my loose change and give me cash.  Normally this is not a difficult process.  I just take the loose change to the Credit Union--it doesn't have to be rolled anymore--take it to the teller and they find out how much I have collected.  They then give me the amount in worthless paper dollar bills. Now I can spend it and I feel like I am rich. Hey, this is fun!
    Last night I went into the Credit Union at 4:05 PDT and tried to convert my coins. As usual, I walked up to the teller and asked that the dastardly deed be done. I love personalized customer service. Nope, that wasn't going to happen today.  It seems that they no longer do change at the teller.  I have to use the self-service machine just inside the door.  Oh, by the way it closed--the machine that is--at 4:00 PDT. I had missed it.  You know how I am with machines.  I covered that a few blogs ago. Not only did I miss the cutoff for changing the change, but I had to deal with a machine, and tomorrow morning at that. What was the machine going to do, go home for a wonderful dinner of WD-40 and chips? NUTS, I hate machines!

This is the automatic change maker.  How it counts the change, I don't know. I hate machines!

        

I Feel Secure Now

     "Your computer may be at risk."  That was the message that came up on my computer screen. It seems as though my anti-virus protection program needed to be upgraded. This is something that is very important to the integrity of my computer so I thought that might want to address the situation.  At this point, I was kind of tired of the "Hi guy.  Do you want to come and party with me?" pop up coming up all the time so it definitely was time to do something about my anti-virus protection.  The girl in the ad was very pretty and wow, what a body! Sorry though, I wouldn't go there because I am very happily married.
     I accessed the anti-virus site and tried to download the upgrade. One thing you must understand about me.  Technically, I fall under the "challenged" umbrella. After all, I am a man of letters, not of science. I do well with words, not of gadgets.  The computer, if you boil it all down is a gadget.  Each gadget is installed at the factory with an anti-Dave program which when the gadget knows I am tinkering with it, it goes crazy--the gadget that is. I have adjusted to the world knowing that and live my life accordingly. In most cases, I know the concept of how something works--like a car--but then that anti-Dave program kicks in. This whole techno-challeged situation is a subject I may or may not cover in a future blog, but for today I will stay on the subject.  I know you are thinking that is impossible, but I will try.
     I just couldn't get the program to download.  In desperation, I went to the help line and started a chat.  I explained my situation to the technician and he was happy to help me out.  His name was Garpreet.
     It was obvious that Garpreet was not located in the United States.  I asked if he was in the Phillippines, but he told me he was in Goshbandi, Pakistan. Hmmm...that got me to thinking. I am talking to someone about internet security and they are in Pakistan.  What do I know about Pakistan?***
     I began to wonder to myself, is this such a good idea? Then I began to weigh my options. Was it worth getting rid of the good looking girl with the great figure?  Heck yes it was.  I don't want to get in trouble for something I didn't do, or in this case download.  So it was a green light with Garpreet.  Besides, if he wanted to hack my bank account, he was welcome to the -$1500 balance in my bank account. Discretion is the better part of valor.  What that saying has to do with this, I don't know but I do like the saying.
     Garpreet said that he could download the program remotely from his location, but I would have to temporarily turn over my computer to him.  Go for it! 
     In order for him to take over my computer temporarily he asked me for my pin number. I didn't know that somebody had pinned a pin on me.  Yes, I realize I have a pin for just about everything in my life and it is XXXX, but I didn't know I had one for this site. I have had many labels pinned on me before such as ... or ... , but never on this site.  So, we went though the process of setting a pin. That number would join the countless other numbers I have forgotten in my head to get into sites I had long since forgotten.
     The next thing after I put in my newly minted pin number which my sixty year old brain would soon forget was Garpreet said that he was now taking over my computer. Was that such a good thing?  I don't know, but at this point I was desperate.  He chatted back, "Don't worry, I have your computer now and everything is totally secure.  Once I am finished, your site will be secure and updated."  OK, let me see.  What do I really know about Pakistan?
     The cursor came alive.  For those of you that are old enough to remember the old "The Outer Limits" television series, not the one on SyFy channel, I'm talking about the original, it was just like that.  I thought that I was caught in an episode of  "The Outer Limits".  Remember the beginning how the introduction went?
The "Control Voice" would say, "There is nothing wrong with your television set.  We are controlling the transmission."  That's how I felt as the cursor started to dance.
     Screens came on and off with all kinds of information, which I couldn't understand.  I didn't know if it was English, Pakistani or Martian. Finally, the cursor stopped it unstable dance. Garpreet came on and told me that everything was completed and the update installed. I had to take his word for it, but it seemed that he was right.  I chatted a bit more about where he lives and a few other things and then we told each other in true California fashion to have a nice day.
     Yes, Garpreet helped me out of my predicament.  I have a computer system that is safe and secure.  He told me that.  I only have one question.  How did the charges for a flight from Goshbandi, Pakistan to Las Vegas, Nevada and the luxury suite at the Luxor get on my debit card?  What do I know about Pakistan?

How pretty, dolphins and the Pacific Ocean behind it. Don't ask me how this picture goes with internet security. I just needed a pretty picture.

        

Who Broke In Last Night?

     I would like to catch the person who broke in our house last night.  They didn't get anything, but they did play a childish prank.  The took all the clocks in the house and set them all forward one hour.  In essence you could say that they were thieves because they stole that hour. 
     I guess that I should be thankful they didn't steal anything else but the hour.  They could have stolen the 1903 Chickoring Grand Piano now in the living room, but they didn't. My wife would have liked them to take my "Band of Brothers" CD's that I watch constantly, but they didn't.  All they got away with was that hour.
     Every clock in the house was set forward an hour.  Our phones were even changed one hour ahead. What is this? Are we

I have no comment.  Someone took an hour of sleep away from me and I haven't had my coffee yet.

in a new episode of The Twilight Zone?

Pot Roast?

     When I went to the suggestions guru about how to get more hits for my blogs and said to use more colorful tag and key words in my blog titles.  He said that there are certain words that the search engines are looking for depending on the subject.  When I racked my brain, and with my brain that certainly is a challenge, to find a title for this post I thought I would try the strategy.  I came up with the word pot. I don't smoke pot, I want you to know that from the start, and I do hate pot roast.
      Some people like pot roast.  More power to those people.  The Donner party liked eating their shoes--among other things which have yet to be proven--but they had to eat shoe leather because that is all they had.  Eating pot roast is a choice.
     Whatever you do to a pot roast, you are still eating a pot roast.  Most pot roasts are from the chuck part of the cow.  Except for the round steak--which incidentally you can make chicken fried steak which I love depending on how much country gravy you put on it, yum--the chuck is the toughest part of the poor cow. Let's see--why don't we put a brick in to cook for about five days and see if it will tender up. We can put in some onion soup and some potatoes. Don't forget the carrots!
     Is it tender yet? Nope, still tough as leather. Maybe we didn't leave it in long enough. Let's turn down the heat and slow cook it for another couple of days. How about some more carrots and maybe a bit of red wine. What does that do to it?
     I do like shredded beef in my tacos and enchiladas. Basically, they take a chuck roast and cook the ever loving hell out of it. After a month of cooking in spices, it just falls apart. It tears apart actually and you put in in the taco or enchilada. I guess if it is Mexican, I will eat it.  Just don't call it pot roast.
     Let's check on how our pot roast is doing.  It has been cooking now for ten days now so let's see how it is.  It's pot roast, that's how it is and it is not tender. YUCK! Pot roast.

Filet Mignon is not Pot Roast.  I like Filet Mignon!

  

Today's Topic Is...

     Have I got your attention?  I thought I wouldn't say what today's topic was because I wanted to use a literary device called suspense.  In essence, it is my hope that I will keep you on the edge of your seat while you are guessing what I am going to come up with and write about.
     There are so many things that I can write about today.  I have an extensive list built up in my phone and when an idea pops into my head, I make sure that I write it down so that I can expand upon the idea in some later blog. That list grows by the minute and includes such ideas as the clunky old man shoes that I just bought. They look terrible, but at least they fit.  Make sure you look for this post about my shoes and what I have to say, I think you may enjoy it.  However, you will just have to wait.
     Life outside my office window is rich and full.  I get many ideas from living my life and just being observant of the world around me. It is the fuel that fires the creativity in my mind. Sometimes just one little word strategically placed in my ear, or something that I am to do or doing on the computer will get me started.
     There is a lot to this writing thing.  Many times I have explained it to people and they still don't get it.  It is hard work and work that is not just for anyone.  Coming up with a topic to write about is tough. And then, once you have a topic you have to be brilliant as to what you say.  If you think it is easy, you try it sometime.
     Enough suspense, today's topic is--excuse me, the phone just rang.

Listening to a Mariach Band on Catalina Island. What does that have to do with today's post and subject?  Absolutely nothing. 

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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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.