There was an old woman from Kent
Whose nose was most terribly bent.
One day she chose, to follow her nose
Now nobody knows where she went.
I always get a laugh from this limerick, I can just picture someone making right and left hand turns until they are so completely lost that they have no idea how they got to where they are. Can you follow your nose and stay on the straight and narrow, or can you just as easily get yourself into trouble by doing the same?
What do you think of when you hear the term “Follow Your Nose”? Does it mean to go straight ahead without deviating from the path, or does it fall into the same category as the old “Go with your gut” statement?
Follow your nose to find where that smell is coming from, or look straight ahead and follow your nose to the sign marked “Restrooms” that the store clerk just pointed you toward, if a smell is coming from that restroom then you need to be shopping elsewhere, so make a smart decision and follow your nose to the exit.
Go with your gut; make decisions according to that first feeling you get. If you have a bad feeling then something is definitely wrong, whether you can see it or not your gut has just given you a sign. I bought a car once and the whole time I was test-driving it, arguing the price, shaking the salesman’s hand, and signing the papers, I had a bad feeling.
The deal was so great that I couldn’t pass it up, the car was really nice but to make a long story short, it turned out to be one of the worst deals I had ever made, I got laid off from work a few months later and when I went to sell the car, I found out from a potential buyer that it had been wrecked and repaired before I bought it.
I had the hardest time getting this car sold because of this, the money I lost on it made the great deal I got to begin with not appear so good after all, which brings me to the saying “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is”
If you see a great deal, a fabulous product, something that will make you a whole stack of money, and you can get the secret for the low price of $19.95, then you have just lost $19.95 because the only one making any money is the seller of the secret you just fell for.
The designer drug that makes two bathtubs appear at your home, does no such thing, the towel with no name that is guaranteed to pick up a whole gallon of water without ever dripping will leave your shoes wet, and the fine chopper/shredder that you can slide a potato across invisible blades to make impressive designer potato chips, and fries, will leave you holding a potato.
Invisible blades just won’t work no matter how fast you slide the potato. Your neighbors will peer into your kitchen window and laugh as they watch you rub a blister on your hand trying to make the invisible blades appear.
Don’t you just love neighbors that peer into your windows, we all have had nosey neighbors, and or friends who know more about you than you know about yourself. I smell only trouble coming from people with this type of nose problems.
This reminds me of a neighbor we had when I was a kid, her name was Hazel, she lived directly next door and would always look over the fence and tell Mom the neighborhood gossip, she knew what was going on everywhere, what everyone was doing, and had no problem sharing.
Her unsolicited advice on how you should do this, why you shouldn’t have done that, the correct way to cook, and when all the kids in our household should be spanked, while all of her grandchildren were innocent, and Lord knows any information given to her in confidence really needed to be shared with anyone who would listen.
She would actually stand in her yard and watch us, watch her, watching us through the window, she would repeat her version of conversations she swore came from our house, and tell Mom stories she said came from the other neighbors.
One of her stories told of how Mom was so nosey that she would look through the window and watch Hazels every move, a little bit of this goes a long way when your business is being spread around, and its even worse when the stories are not exactly true.
It all ended with Mom and Hazel standing on the property line nose to nose, Mom had a “Word of prayer” with her so to say, and the last thing I heard coming from Hazels mouth was, “Mind your business, because you are really the one with nose problems”, Mom stormed back to the house and Hazel turned right to follow her nose home, she made a right, then a left hand turn around the back of her house;
And nobody knows where she went.
Life as seen through my eyes
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Just Click Delete
Junk Mail, Spam, unsolicited emails, which is worse and are any of them actually any different than the other.
Junk mail seems to have slowed down for me the past few years, even though I still get several credit card offers in which I am pre approved each month, all I have to do is fill out all of my credit information and send it back in to them, I really don’t want anymore credit cards but it is good to know I am pre approved.
There was a time that most of the junk mail like this came with a postage paid envelope, the simplest thing to do was to shred the entire contents, including the envelope it came in except for the address label with your name, stuff all of this into the postage paid envelope and stick it in the mail box, you suddenly were dropped from their mailing list.
I remember a man who signed up for every junk mail list he could find, his mailbox was overflowing with all kinds of junk mail each day, I am talking so much that he had to get a bigger mailbox to hold it all, what was he doing with all of this junk mail you ask, he had found a way to acquire free firewood so to say, he actually used it to heat his home.
Today most of our junk mail has become the dreaded “S” word, heck I remember when Spam was a slimy meat substance in a can made from pork shoulder and ham, but now it is another slimy substance that shows up in our inbox, and we are afraid to open this also.
Spam in our inbox, in our comments section, hidden as emails from friends, and what they all have in common is a link you had better not click on. Some used to offer an unsubscribe link at the bottom that added your name to more mailing lists than your inbox could handle, best thing to do is delete any email you get that you do not recognize.
I have been getting quite a few lately on posts I made a year or so ago, I just delete them and go about my business, but today I got one I am still laughing at:
“Hi, i read your blog occasionally and i own a similar one and i was just wondering if you get a lot of spam remarks?
If so how do you protect against it, any plugin or anything you can advise? I get so much lately it's driving me crazy so any assistance is very much appreciated.
Also see my webpage: (here was a link to some random site trying to sell something I really don’t need)”
Yes I deleted this one also; too bad I can’t burn any of these in our fireplace without using all of my printer paper.
Junk mail seems to have slowed down for me the past few years, even though I still get several credit card offers in which I am pre approved each month, all I have to do is fill out all of my credit information and send it back in to them, I really don’t want anymore credit cards but it is good to know I am pre approved.
There was a time that most of the junk mail like this came with a postage paid envelope, the simplest thing to do was to shred the entire contents, including the envelope it came in except for the address label with your name, stuff all of this into the postage paid envelope and stick it in the mail box, you suddenly were dropped from their mailing list.
I remember a man who signed up for every junk mail list he could find, his mailbox was overflowing with all kinds of junk mail each day, I am talking so much that he had to get a bigger mailbox to hold it all, what was he doing with all of this junk mail you ask, he had found a way to acquire free firewood so to say, he actually used it to heat his home.
Today most of our junk mail has become the dreaded “S” word, heck I remember when Spam was a slimy meat substance in a can made from pork shoulder and ham, but now it is another slimy substance that shows up in our inbox, and we are afraid to open this also.
Spam in our inbox, in our comments section, hidden as emails from friends, and what they all have in common is a link you had better not click on. Some used to offer an unsubscribe link at the bottom that added your name to more mailing lists than your inbox could handle, best thing to do is delete any email you get that you do not recognize.
I have been getting quite a few lately on posts I made a year or so ago, I just delete them and go about my business, but today I got one I am still laughing at:
“Hi, i read your blog occasionally and i own a similar one and i was just wondering if you get a lot of spam remarks?
If so how do you protect against it, any plugin or anything you can advise? I get so much lately it's driving me crazy so any assistance is very much appreciated.
Also see my webpage: (here was a link to some random site trying to sell something I really don’t need)”
Yes I deleted this one also; too bad I can’t burn any of these in our fireplace without using all of my printer paper.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Evil I Tell You
How many of you owned one of the original Furbys? And do you plan on getting yourself another since the rebirth of the new generation?
The answer in our household is we owned one, and as far as owning another goes, Cindy says “Aint no chance in the world” I actually toned Cindys real answer down a bit, since this is a Family program, and just in case there is a Furby reading this, we really wouldn’t want them to be repeating her true answer, you know since they were banned for being a national security risk and all, we sure don’t want Cindy to be dragged down that road with them.
My Dad mailed Cindy her very own Furby for Christmas back when they first came out, she opened her gift on Christmas morning to find a cute little creature in her package, cute as far as something that looked like a cross between a hamster and an furry owl goes, she was tickled and had fun playing with it at first, she called everyone she knew and told them all about this Furby and how much fun it was going to be.
I really don’t remember the name this one came with, but the name it ended up carrying was evil. She had fun getting it to interact with her, at first repeating words and sounds she gave it, I think it actually taught her a bit of the furbish language it came programmed with, so for a while it was hard to tell who was training who, it was all fun and games until it finally began to argue with her, and she became fluent in furbish.
At first it was cute, but cute only goes so far, she picked up the phone and called all her friends to tell them how the Furby was arguing with her, she laughed and laughed because it was still funny at the time.
Then the day came when I arrived home from work, you know that something has gone wrong when the front door is standing open, the furniture is turned over, papers are thrown all over the floor, and in the background all you hear is the whistle of a tea kettle on the stove.
Walking into the dining room, I see my wife backed into the corner standing on a kitchen chair, the other chairs are lying across the floor and standing about three feet in front of Cindy is her cute little Furby, the look of fear on her face told me something bad had obviously happened.
I picked up the Furby and asked her what was going on, she pointed and stuttered “That thing is evil, I can’t make it stop talking” I laughed and said all you have to do is turn it off, I flipped the switch to the off position and sat it on the table, Cindy pointed and said “it is evil I tell you..” and the Furby repeated "EVIL"
I checked the switch to see that I evidently hadn’t turned it off after all, I switched it off once again and we left it sitting on the table for the night, the next morning as I left for work, Cindy was already on the phone talking to her friends discussing the best way to shut up a Furby.
When I came home from work that night the Furby was sitting on the counter, its little eyes were closed and it was not saying a word, Cindy was so proud, she told me that the answer to stopping the Furby was simple, she had talked to all her friends on the phone, they had called one another back and forth all day long discussing the problem and finally came up with an answer, she simply had to remove the batteries.
We had a good laugh and I asked her, so what have you been doing since you removed his batteries. The Furby opened its eyes, turned to look at us and in a low robotic voice said, Ring, Ring, Ha Ha.
Not really sure what happened to that Furby, because once we got ourselves together and walked all the way back home, he was gone.
The answer in our household is we owned one, and as far as owning another goes, Cindy says “Aint no chance in the world” I actually toned Cindys real answer down a bit, since this is a Family program, and just in case there is a Furby reading this, we really wouldn’t want them to be repeating her true answer, you know since they were banned for being a national security risk and all, we sure don’t want Cindy to be dragged down that road with them.
My Dad mailed Cindy her very own Furby for Christmas back when they first came out, she opened her gift on Christmas morning to find a cute little creature in her package, cute as far as something that looked like a cross between a hamster and an furry owl goes, she was tickled and had fun playing with it at first, she called everyone she knew and told them all about this Furby and how much fun it was going to be.
I really don’t remember the name this one came with, but the name it ended up carrying was evil. She had fun getting it to interact with her, at first repeating words and sounds she gave it, I think it actually taught her a bit of the furbish language it came programmed with, so for a while it was hard to tell who was training who, it was all fun and games until it finally began to argue with her, and she became fluent in furbish.
At first it was cute, but cute only goes so far, she picked up the phone and called all her friends to tell them how the Furby was arguing with her, she laughed and laughed because it was still funny at the time.
Then the day came when I arrived home from work, you know that something has gone wrong when the front door is standing open, the furniture is turned over, papers are thrown all over the floor, and in the background all you hear is the whistle of a tea kettle on the stove.
Walking into the dining room, I see my wife backed into the corner standing on a kitchen chair, the other chairs are lying across the floor and standing about three feet in front of Cindy is her cute little Furby, the look of fear on her face told me something bad had obviously happened.
I picked up the Furby and asked her what was going on, she pointed and stuttered “That thing is evil, I can’t make it stop talking” I laughed and said all you have to do is turn it off, I flipped the switch to the off position and sat it on the table, Cindy pointed and said “it is evil I tell you..” and the Furby repeated "EVIL"
I checked the switch to see that I evidently hadn’t turned it off after all, I switched it off once again and we left it sitting on the table for the night, the next morning as I left for work, Cindy was already on the phone talking to her friends discussing the best way to shut up a Furby.
When I came home from work that night the Furby was sitting on the counter, its little eyes were closed and it was not saying a word, Cindy was so proud, she told me that the answer to stopping the Furby was simple, she had talked to all her friends on the phone, they had called one another back and forth all day long discussing the problem and finally came up with an answer, she simply had to remove the batteries.
We had a good laugh and I asked her, so what have you been doing since you removed his batteries. The Furby opened its eyes, turned to look at us and in a low robotic voice said, Ring, Ring, Ha Ha.
Not really sure what happened to that Furby, because once we got ourselves together and walked all the way back home, he was gone.
That thing was evil I tell you evil.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
But Officer It Was Pink
“If winning was easy, losers would do it” I had to laugh at this statement when I heard it again today, it was used on a commercial for Nascar touting how hard it is to win, and the things this particular driver does to keep his edge.
What is your definition of winning? When it comes to driving, are you one of those people who have to be the first one off the line when the light turns green, and do you have to pass the car ahead of you just because they are driving the speed limit, you know that it is an unwritten law that you are supposed to drive at least five miles over the speed limit or else be labeled a slow driver.
Since I mentioned traffic lights, what is your definition of the colors, does yellow actually mean caution, slow down, prepare to stop, and or just go ahead and stop, or does it mean “Floor It!” try and get through the intersection before the light turns red.
What exactly is a Pink Light? You know Pink, not exactly red it’s that color right between the yellow and red light, it flashes so fast most people don’t ever see it, so next time you get stopped for running a red light, just try and explain to the officer that you were not in the wrong because the light was actually pink.
If he argues with you, just tell him that it flashed pink so fast that he couldn’t see it, and furthermore the City should adjust their signals, if he buys this story and you get off with a warning, then count your lucky stars, and if you get an extra ticket for jerking his chain, don’t blame me, because this is not advice, this is just my observations on traffic signals, and the mostly unseen extra color.
Now back to passing cars, how slow does that car ahead have to be going for you to pass, does the speed limit constitute driving too slow, say the speed limit is 65mph and the car ahead of you is driving 64mph, how fast do you have to drive to actually pass this car?
But officer, I wasn’t speeding, I was just trying to get around that slow car, never mind that you were going 80 in a 65 and that car you were passing sped up just a bit as you pulled out, you know just to show you, I know you have either had this happen, known someone it has happened to, or have done it yourself.
And what do you do when you are driving down the road minding your own business, doing absolutely nothing wrong, when you see flashing lights on top of a police car on the other side of the road, this police officer is standing on the side of the road either writing a ticket, or hearing a tale of the infamous pink light syndrome that effects most cities.
The first thing you do is hit your brakes, then you may go so far as to turn down the radio, and stare into the rear view mirror so hard that it begins to fog over from your heavy breathing, you know this officer has to be looking directly at you, and will be coming after you as soon as he can get back to his car, you may not even be speeding but all the voices in your car come together in unison to yell out “Cop”
When we were returning from the trip to the zoo with the kids, we were following a van on the highway; this van was actually going the speed limit so Cindy was not too anxious to go around it, a car behind us began flashing his bright lights every so often, we were in a long line of traffic so passing was not going to happen easily, and pulling over for him would only leave us further behind on our schedule, so Cindy backed away from the van to give him room to pass just in case he wanted to try.
This guy was alternating between running with his bright lights on, his lights off, flashing his lights, then he pulled out to pass, his convertible sports car looked pretty impressive going around us so fast, not only did he pass us, he also passed the van and another car in front of the van, narrowly missing an oncoming car only to fall in behind the next group of cars to which he began the light flashing routine again, looks like he wanted to be the first one to town, the winner so to say.
The highway speed limit drops to 55 then down to 45 as you get into town, right at the forty five speed limit sign we see flashing lights, to which the whole back seat yells in unison “Cop”
Sitting there in front of the State Troopers car was that impressive looking convertible sports car, I can hear it now “But officer, I wasn’t really speeding I was passing that long line of cars” wonder how he explained the flashing headlights.
I just imagine that little ticket most likely cost him more than what we spent all day at the zoo, and another thing his driving style assured him of being the winner to town, and our driving the speed limit was going to get us there way after him, I think I know who won that little race.
What is your definition of winning? When it comes to driving, are you one of those people who have to be the first one off the line when the light turns green, and do you have to pass the car ahead of you just because they are driving the speed limit, you know that it is an unwritten law that you are supposed to drive at least five miles over the speed limit or else be labeled a slow driver.
Since I mentioned traffic lights, what is your definition of the colors, does yellow actually mean caution, slow down, prepare to stop, and or just go ahead and stop, or does it mean “Floor It!” try and get through the intersection before the light turns red.
What exactly is a Pink Light? You know Pink, not exactly red it’s that color right between the yellow and red light, it flashes so fast most people don’t ever see it, so next time you get stopped for running a red light, just try and explain to the officer that you were not in the wrong because the light was actually pink.
If he argues with you, just tell him that it flashed pink so fast that he couldn’t see it, and furthermore the City should adjust their signals, if he buys this story and you get off with a warning, then count your lucky stars, and if you get an extra ticket for jerking his chain, don’t blame me, because this is not advice, this is just my observations on traffic signals, and the mostly unseen extra color.
Now back to passing cars, how slow does that car ahead have to be going for you to pass, does the speed limit constitute driving too slow, say the speed limit is 65mph and the car ahead of you is driving 64mph, how fast do you have to drive to actually pass this car?
But officer, I wasn’t speeding, I was just trying to get around that slow car, never mind that you were going 80 in a 65 and that car you were passing sped up just a bit as you pulled out, you know just to show you, I know you have either had this happen, known someone it has happened to, or have done it yourself.
And what do you do when you are driving down the road minding your own business, doing absolutely nothing wrong, when you see flashing lights on top of a police car on the other side of the road, this police officer is standing on the side of the road either writing a ticket, or hearing a tale of the infamous pink light syndrome that effects most cities.
The first thing you do is hit your brakes, then you may go so far as to turn down the radio, and stare into the rear view mirror so hard that it begins to fog over from your heavy breathing, you know this officer has to be looking directly at you, and will be coming after you as soon as he can get back to his car, you may not even be speeding but all the voices in your car come together in unison to yell out “Cop”
When we were returning from the trip to the zoo with the kids, we were following a van on the highway; this van was actually going the speed limit so Cindy was not too anxious to go around it, a car behind us began flashing his bright lights every so often, we were in a long line of traffic so passing was not going to happen easily, and pulling over for him would only leave us further behind on our schedule, so Cindy backed away from the van to give him room to pass just in case he wanted to try.
This guy was alternating between running with his bright lights on, his lights off, flashing his lights, then he pulled out to pass, his convertible sports car looked pretty impressive going around us so fast, not only did he pass us, he also passed the van and another car in front of the van, narrowly missing an oncoming car only to fall in behind the next group of cars to which he began the light flashing routine again, looks like he wanted to be the first one to town, the winner so to say.
The highway speed limit drops to 55 then down to 45 as you get into town, right at the forty five speed limit sign we see flashing lights, to which the whole back seat yells in unison “Cop”
Sitting there in front of the State Troopers car was that impressive looking convertible sports car, I can hear it now “But officer, I wasn’t really speeding I was passing that long line of cars” wonder how he explained the flashing headlights.
I just imagine that little ticket most likely cost him more than what we spent all day at the zoo, and another thing his driving style assured him of being the winner to town, and our driving the speed limit was going to get us there way after him, I think I know who won that little race.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Gift Card And A Smiley
Last week I gave you my opinion about Facebook and got some really great comments, looking at the social networking sites I see there are different uses for each one, I really only touched onto one, so now lets look at this again from a different angle.
Our Friend Stephen from The Chubby Chatterbox made a point in his comment that got me to thinking, he pointed out “Blog if you have something to say once or twice a week, Facebook if you have something to say every day, and tweet if you have something to say every hour”, just how would the exact same scenario look from the different formats.
To use an actual experience I had, lets look at it from all three formats, I had a telephone that we bought from Wally World, it worked great for a while then stopped, I had to return it for another. Now that the story is set up, lets view the differences.
Twitter: four tweets one hour apart.
Going to Wal-Mart to exchange a broken phone:
Standing in line at Customer service:
Leaving with my new phone, hope this one works:
The Greeter was in a bad mood, no sticker from him:
Facebook: two status updates twenty-four hour apart.
Status Update: (Picture of me with the door greeter inserted here) Exchanging a phone at Wal-Mart.
Status update: installed the phone I returned yesterday, the phone is good but that trip was not fun.
Jimmy’s Opinion Blog:
Last Christmas we bought a new phone for the house, we actually needed one that would ring loud enough so we could hear it over the TV or when we were outside, the old one had gotten to the point that you couldn’t hear the ring even if you had it up to your ear, it was only about ten years old, so I really don’t see why it would have stopped ringing loudly, Cindy tells me the older I get the louder I get, why wouldn’t this be the same for a phone.
The new phone was great, the silly thing even talks to you while it’s ringing, when Cindy calls in it proudly says “Cindy”, when her sister calls it proudly says “Cristy” when a private caller rings in, it stutters and says something like “Coll-er Pre-e-vet”, I suppose you cant have everything.
As I said before it worked great for a while then all of a sudden it quit talking altogether, then it stopped ringing in, you could still call out but no calls came in, Cindy was not having this so here I am packing this thing back into the box and making a return trip to Wally World.
Walking up to the door I notice our usual Door greeter Don was not there, Don had a way with words, he was one of those greeters I have joked about in the past that glares at you while mumbling “Welcome to Wal-Mart, here’s your damned basket”, instead I ran into a much younger man with a temperament exactly opposite of Dons.
“Welcome to Wal-Mart, can I help you” as he stuck a smiley face sticker on my shirt pocket, I told him I wanted to return the phone, he promptly scanned the phone, placed a return sticker on it, and directed me toward customer service.
I mentioned that it looked like I was going to be here a while if I went to customer service, rather than going in and picking up another phone first, he smiled and said “No sir, just go on over to customer service because they are so fast today you won’t even know you were here”
He was a friendly young man and sad to say I have never seen him again, wonder if he was too friendly for Wally World? He was correct about customer service though, I was right up to the counter and had a gift card for the amount of the phone in my hand before I knew what had happened.
I walked back to electronics/photo/phones or whatever they call that area and found my replacement right away, rather than going back up front to pay I stepped up to the register there and waited for the guy in the white coat, he was looking over pictures he had printed and dropped on the floor, while cussing under his breath about not wanting to reprint anything, it appeared to me one of those making a mountain out of a mole hill situations.
He finally came over to ring up my purchase, and promptly asked if I wanted to apply for a Wally World Credit Card, I declined the offer and handed him the gift card, he mumbled I see you already have one, I told him it was actually a gift card, he just gave me a blank stare and scanned the phone.
Ringing up the phone to the price of $59.95 he slid the card and just froze in place, he looked at me and said you only have $59.95 on this card, how did you do that, I told him I had just returned the same phone and was buying a replacement, he said “No really, how did you do this” I repeated myself and he said, I really don’t understand what you are trying to pull here, handed me the phone and began punching buttons on his register.
Walking quickly out of the store I ran right into Don the Door Greeter who wanted to see my receipt, he looked it over and glanced into the bag at the phone, shook his head and said “China, got yourself a Chinese phone” I replied Yes Sir, had to bring one back for this one, he glared at me and said “I’m serious that one is made in China, if you were smart you would have got one made in America”
I made my way to the car understanding why to this day I still hate going to Wally World, The phone is still working in spite of being made in China, and if it decides to stop working, Cindy will be making the exchange, I wonder if Don has any smiley face stickers?
There is my take on all three, which do you prefer? Is tweeting or face booking any faster than blogging? Look at it this way, with the first one you got your information in four installments that took a total of three hours, the second came in two installments that took twenty four hours, and how long did it take you to actually read this blog post, even if you are a slow reader it was way less than three hours.
See there you go, for your readers they get a huge amount of information in one post, so my summary of all three is that blogging has faster and more quality information than any social networking site out there, that’s kind of like getting a gift card and a smiley just for showing up.
Our Friend Stephen from The Chubby Chatterbox made a point in his comment that got me to thinking, he pointed out “Blog if you have something to say once or twice a week, Facebook if you have something to say every day, and tweet if you have something to say every hour”, just how would the exact same scenario look from the different formats.
To use an actual experience I had, lets look at it from all three formats, I had a telephone that we bought from Wally World, it worked great for a while then stopped, I had to return it for another. Now that the story is set up, lets view the differences.
Twitter: four tweets one hour apart.
Going to Wal-Mart to exchange a broken phone:
Standing in line at Customer service:
Leaving with my new phone, hope this one works:
The Greeter was in a bad mood, no sticker from him:
Facebook: two status updates twenty-four hour apart.
Status Update: (Picture of me with the door greeter inserted here) Exchanging a phone at Wal-Mart.
Status update: installed the phone I returned yesterday, the phone is good but that trip was not fun.
Jimmy’s Opinion Blog:
Last Christmas we bought a new phone for the house, we actually needed one that would ring loud enough so we could hear it over the TV or when we were outside, the old one had gotten to the point that you couldn’t hear the ring even if you had it up to your ear, it was only about ten years old, so I really don’t see why it would have stopped ringing loudly, Cindy tells me the older I get the louder I get, why wouldn’t this be the same for a phone.
The new phone was great, the silly thing even talks to you while it’s ringing, when Cindy calls in it proudly says “Cindy”, when her sister calls it proudly says “Cristy” when a private caller rings in, it stutters and says something like “Coll-er Pre-e-vet”, I suppose you cant have everything.
As I said before it worked great for a while then all of a sudden it quit talking altogether, then it stopped ringing in, you could still call out but no calls came in, Cindy was not having this so here I am packing this thing back into the box and making a return trip to Wally World.
Walking up to the door I notice our usual Door greeter Don was not there, Don had a way with words, he was one of those greeters I have joked about in the past that glares at you while mumbling “Welcome to Wal-Mart, here’s your damned basket”, instead I ran into a much younger man with a temperament exactly opposite of Dons.
“Welcome to Wal-Mart, can I help you” as he stuck a smiley face sticker on my shirt pocket, I told him I wanted to return the phone, he promptly scanned the phone, placed a return sticker on it, and directed me toward customer service.
I mentioned that it looked like I was going to be here a while if I went to customer service, rather than going in and picking up another phone first, he smiled and said “No sir, just go on over to customer service because they are so fast today you won’t even know you were here”
He was a friendly young man and sad to say I have never seen him again, wonder if he was too friendly for Wally World? He was correct about customer service though, I was right up to the counter and had a gift card for the amount of the phone in my hand before I knew what had happened.
I walked back to electronics/photo/phones or whatever they call that area and found my replacement right away, rather than going back up front to pay I stepped up to the register there and waited for the guy in the white coat, he was looking over pictures he had printed and dropped on the floor, while cussing under his breath about not wanting to reprint anything, it appeared to me one of those making a mountain out of a mole hill situations.
Ringing up the phone to the price of $59.95 he slid the card and just froze in place, he looked at me and said you only have $59.95 on this card, how did you do that, I told him I had just returned the same phone and was buying a replacement, he said “No really, how did you do this” I repeated myself and he said, I really don’t understand what you are trying to pull here, handed me the phone and began punching buttons on his register.
Walking quickly out of the store I ran right into Don the Door Greeter who wanted to see my receipt, he looked it over and glanced into the bag at the phone, shook his head and said “China, got yourself a Chinese phone” I replied Yes Sir, had to bring one back for this one, he glared at me and said “I’m serious that one is made in China, if you were smart you would have got one made in America”
I made my way to the car understanding why to this day I still hate going to Wally World, The phone is still working in spite of being made in China, and if it decides to stop working, Cindy will be making the exchange, I wonder if Don has any smiley face stickers?
There is my take on all three, which do you prefer? Is tweeting or face booking any faster than blogging? Look at it this way, with the first one you got your information in four installments that took a total of three hours, the second came in two installments that took twenty four hours, and how long did it take you to actually read this blog post, even if you are a slow reader it was way less than three hours.
See there you go, for your readers they get a huge amount of information in one post, so my summary of all three is that blogging has faster and more quality information than any social networking site out there, that’s kind of like getting a gift card and a smiley just for showing up.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Clutching The Truth
When I was younger I remember listening to family members talk about the Good Old Days, I also remember smiling to myself when they told of things they had done and places they had been.
My Granddad served in the Army Air Force during the Korean War and World War II, the adventures he had during this time was impressive, one story that I smiled at most began when he showed me the .303 British Rifle he had in his collection, he said this gun was one he used while in the service, he also said this rifle was the exact one he used to shoot down enemy planes that were flying over.
His stories were always grand and the lives he saved with his trusty weapon was impressive, the gun most likely was one similar to the Air Force issue, but for him it was one in the same, I have no doubt that the stories were true and I absolutely would never claim that the tales were exaggerated, I can only go by what he said and you know as well as I that our grandparents would never stretch the truth.
I also smile when I recall him standing in his front yard, looking up at the F-111D Fighters flying overhead near the Air Base he retired from, the look of pride on his face told me that his adventures were real, and exaggerated or not were a big part of his life.
His Father I never knew, but family legend goes that he served as a Private in the 4th Regiment SC Cavalry during the Civil War; he was wounded at The Battle of Cold Harbor in Hanover County, VA and discharged to return home after this.
My research shows he was born in December of 1851, so at the time of the war he was only about ten years old, during further research I have found military records that follow this story completely, the muster date for his name was January 1863, so I have to completely believe my Granddads story of his father fighting in the Cavalry at the tender age of twelve, because things like this did happen during those days.
I also remember working on my car in a service station my Dad owned, Granddad would hang around and tell stories, my Dad and he would argue over the facts of each story, because as you know everyone remembers your stories better than you do.
I had completely cleaned my 73 Gran Torino Sport, I had also painted the rear axle a flat black, the rear of the car was jacked up to make it look like the Hot Rod it was, and the painted rear axle just set it off, especially for those who found themselves losing to my awesome driving abilities, and speaking of my abilities, I was in the process of backing out of the service bay when I ran over the can of flat black spray paint.
The paint can exploded sending the majority of the paint all over the side of my car, I got out and exploded also, I jumped back into the car and spinning tires left a black mark all the way back into the bay, I was cleaning the paint off of the car when Granddad walked up and was looking at the black marks left by my tires.
He smiled and said, “Just tell your Dad that your foot slipped off the clutch, that’s what he always told me” I looked at him and said this is an automatic, I don’t have a clutch, Granddad looked at me laughing and said, “Neither did he”.
You think I could get by with telling Benjamin that I completely painted my car flat black by simply spinning the tires? Or that I actually owned a Gran Torino back in the 70’s, Maybe I’d better hang on to this picture for proof of the car, because I can already see that smile of disbelief on his face.
What fabulous stories did you hear when you were younger, that led you to think just maybe your Grandparents or family may be stretching the truth a bit?
My Granddad served in the Army Air Force during the Korean War and World War II, the adventures he had during this time was impressive, one story that I smiled at most began when he showed me the .303 British Rifle he had in his collection, he said this gun was one he used while in the service, he also said this rifle was the exact one he used to shoot down enemy planes that were flying over.
His stories were always grand and the lives he saved with his trusty weapon was impressive, the gun most likely was one similar to the Air Force issue, but for him it was one in the same, I have no doubt that the stories were true and I absolutely would never claim that the tales were exaggerated, I can only go by what he said and you know as well as I that our grandparents would never stretch the truth.
I also smile when I recall him standing in his front yard, looking up at the F-111D Fighters flying overhead near the Air Base he retired from, the look of pride on his face told me that his adventures were real, and exaggerated or not were a big part of his life.
His Father I never knew, but family legend goes that he served as a Private in the 4th Regiment SC Cavalry during the Civil War; he was wounded at The Battle of Cold Harbor in Hanover County, VA and discharged to return home after this.
My research shows he was born in December of 1851, so at the time of the war he was only about ten years old, during further research I have found military records that follow this story completely, the muster date for his name was January 1863, so I have to completely believe my Granddads story of his father fighting in the Cavalry at the tender age of twelve, because things like this did happen during those days.
I also remember working on my car in a service station my Dad owned, Granddad would hang around and tell stories, my Dad and he would argue over the facts of each story, because as you know everyone remembers your stories better than you do.
The paint can exploded sending the majority of the paint all over the side of my car, I got out and exploded also, I jumped back into the car and spinning tires left a black mark all the way back into the bay, I was cleaning the paint off of the car when Granddad walked up and was looking at the black marks left by my tires.
He smiled and said, “Just tell your Dad that your foot slipped off the clutch, that’s what he always told me” I looked at him and said this is an automatic, I don’t have a clutch, Granddad looked at me laughing and said, “Neither did he”.
You think I could get by with telling Benjamin that I completely painted my car flat black by simply spinning the tires? Or that I actually owned a Gran Torino back in the 70’s, Maybe I’d better hang on to this picture for proof of the car, because I can already see that smile of disbelief on his face.
What fabulous stories did you hear when you were younger, that led you to think just maybe your Grandparents or family may be stretching the truth a bit?
Monday, September 17, 2012
Little Ladies Man
Someday, I’m gonna have a long talk with that boy, as a parent or grandparent can’t you just look at the sweet innocent face of that young child and know there will be many talks coming.
While at the Zoo in Albuquerque, NM we got a big laugh watching Benjamin, this kid had the biggest day of his life it appears, it sure brought a smile to our faces to see him enjoying the animals and the new surroundings we were exposing him to.
The Gorillas and Monkeys were a big hit; I just about died laughing at Benjamin after the very first one we saw.
Let me give you a bit of background first though, our son Randy works graveyard shift as a detention officer, so sometimes during the day he goes over to Tim’s house (Benjamin’s Dad) to do laundry, while the laundry is going he lays down on the couch to nap, and while we were there Benjamin had a ball keeping him from sleeping.
Back to the Gorilla compound, while looking over all the apes walking around looking back at us, there was one laying over to the side, Benjamin took a particular interest in this one, he pointed toward the Gorilla, then held his finger to his lip and said:
For the rest of the day with each monkey or ape we saw he pointed and shouted “Uncle Randy” or either “Uncle Randy is sleeping” I still think Uncle Randy loves him even though he was the only one that didn’t think this was funny, the rest of us came real close to peeing ourselves from laughing so hard.
The large number of animals and experiences we saw here was really amazing.
I’ll share one more experience with you I thought was impressive
There was an area where we could view the seals through a glass that allowed you to see them underwater, Benjamin really got a kick out of this, he was laughing and pointing, turning and repeating every word we gave him about the seals, then all of a sudden it happened.
A little girl his age walked up and we witnessed a transformation right before our eyes, Benjamin was no longer the little two year old being completely fascinated by the seals, all of a sudden he was fascinated with another creature, yes at two years old he was giving his full attention to the human female just about his own age.
Little Benjamin had become Mr. Expert, first off he cocked his elbow and leaned on the wall and began a series of jabbers and pointing, he was explaining everything he knew about the seals to this little girl, and she was listening to his every word.
They would talk awhile then simultaneously turn and tip toe to look into the glass, turn back and go into their talk and listening routine, our little ladies man was winning her heart it appeared, I am not sure if he asked for her number but all of a sudden her Dad decided it was time to move on, the rest of the seal exhibit was boring to him as he evidently already knew all there was to know about the seals.
I saw him stretching and looking through the crowd into the direction in which the little girl had gone, I see he was now interested in a new creature, and as I said earlier:
While at the Zoo in Albuquerque, NM we got a big laugh watching Benjamin, this kid had the biggest day of his life it appears, it sure brought a smile to our faces to see him enjoying the animals and the new surroundings we were exposing him to.
The Gorillas and Monkeys were a big hit; I just about died laughing at Benjamin after the very first one we saw.
Back to the Gorilla compound, while looking over all the apes walking around looking back at us, there was one laying over to the side, Benjamin took a particular interest in this one, he pointed toward the Gorilla, then held his finger to his lip and said:
“Shh Uncle Randy is sleeping”
For the rest of the day with each monkey or ape we saw he pointed and shouted “Uncle Randy” or either “Uncle Randy is sleeping” I still think Uncle Randy loves him even though he was the only one that didn’t think this was funny, the rest of us came real close to peeing ourselves from laughing so hard.
The large number of animals and experiences we saw here was really amazing.
We saw Elephants
Giraffes
Played in the water
Viewed exhibits with unknown creatures.
And got Cindy and the boys together for a while.
I’ll share one more experience with you I thought was impressive
There was an area where we could view the seals through a glass that allowed you to see them underwater, Benjamin really got a kick out of this, he was laughing and pointing, turning and repeating every word we gave him about the seals, then all of a sudden it happened.
A little girl his age walked up and we witnessed a transformation right before our eyes, Benjamin was no longer the little two year old being completely fascinated by the seals, all of a sudden he was fascinated with another creature, yes at two years old he was giving his full attention to the human female just about his own age.
Little Benjamin had become Mr. Expert, first off he cocked his elbow and leaned on the wall and began a series of jabbers and pointing, he was explaining everything he knew about the seals to this little girl, and she was listening to his every word.
I saw him stretching and looking through the crowd into the direction in which the little girl had gone, I see he was now interested in a new creature, and as I said earlier:
“Someday, I’m gonna have a long talk with that boy”
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Death By Facebook
How many of us are into the social networking thing? How many of us actually use it properly and how many share every move they make this way?
Blogging I suppose is a form of social networking, and sometimes we may share more than others want to read, but when I do this I expect you to read me anyway and leave a nice comment, because isn’t this what social networking is all about.
Seriously look at facebook, this has gotten so large that everyone and their dog has a facebook account, I actually have a couple of real dogs asking me to be their friend, I am not degrading anyone, but when a Poodle or a Chihuahua asks to be my friend, I have to wonder just where he learned to type and whose computer is he on.
Some folks get up in the morning and take a picture of their toothbrush, “Status Update: Brushing my teeth” then they take a picture of their breakfast plate including eggs, toast, bacon, and coffee, with a sprig of parsley or whatever green stuff is supposed to make your plate look fancy, “Status Update: eating breakfast with my lovely laptop” “Status Update: just noticed I brushed my teeth too soon” I really didn’t want to see that picture.
I have heard from a few people who are so angry at their friends for getting into their business, this anger stems from comments on their wall about their status updates, now if you don’t want people commenting on your business, then why are you posting it? I actually asked this question and really expect to be defriended soon.
I have witnessed relationship changes that actually changed hourly, if you have an argument with your significant other you change the relationship status, if you make up then change it back, if someone asks you if there is a problem with your relationship, you get mad because they are getting into your business and the only option is to defriend them now.
From sharing a picture of the food you are eating, venting about the fight you are having, the tooth brushing episode, the fake farm, and the real dog that wants to be your facebook friend, these can all be a fun part of the social networking phenomena, but please leave your camera or smart phone on the coffee table when you go into the restroom.
I have a facebook account but rarely use it, I love writing and commenting on blogs, bloggers share their experiences with words and pictures, not hourly status updates, I don’t think fast enough to tweet or check status updates, I would hate to document my every move each day, the public scrutiny of all the friends I have accumulated just because my wife is a virtual farmer is not something I really want.
If I were to die today, my blogging buddies I hope would wonder where I went and reminisce about all of my amazing posts, and if I were addicted to facebook I have a feeling I would be required to take a self portrait as I fell to the floor with a final “Status Update: checking out now, please tend my crop of candy corn before it withers”
Putting yourself out there on the internet is really a big thing, any communication like this adds your pictures and such to the public domain, just think if you make an offhand comment about a friend and want to take it back, face to face you can offer an apology, the off hand comment will always be in the back of your friends mind, but most friends will let it go.
On the Internet these comments have a tendency to go viral so to say, everyone and their dog has read it, every picture good or bad has been viewed, some have copy and pasted it on their pages and it is all of a sudden around the world, you make an apology and some read it and grin but this goes nowhere, and the picture you decide to remove is actually already showing up other places.
Make sure the pictures you share and the information you post is something you don’t mind going around the world, because in fact it just may.
Seriously, be careful what you post because once it’s out there you can never take it back.
Blogging I suppose is a form of social networking, and sometimes we may share more than others want to read, but when I do this I expect you to read me anyway and leave a nice comment, because isn’t this what social networking is all about.
Seriously look at facebook, this has gotten so large that everyone and their dog has a facebook account, I actually have a couple of real dogs asking me to be their friend, I am not degrading anyone, but when a Poodle or a Chihuahua asks to be my friend, I have to wonder just where he learned to type and whose computer is he on.
Some folks get up in the morning and take a picture of their toothbrush, “Status Update: Brushing my teeth” then they take a picture of their breakfast plate including eggs, toast, bacon, and coffee, with a sprig of parsley or whatever green stuff is supposed to make your plate look fancy, “Status Update: eating breakfast with my lovely laptop” “Status Update: just noticed I brushed my teeth too soon” I really didn’t want to see that picture.
I have heard from a few people who are so angry at their friends for getting into their business, this anger stems from comments on their wall about their status updates, now if you don’t want people commenting on your business, then why are you posting it? I actually asked this question and really expect to be defriended soon.
I have witnessed relationship changes that actually changed hourly, if you have an argument with your significant other you change the relationship status, if you make up then change it back, if someone asks you if there is a problem with your relationship, you get mad because they are getting into your business and the only option is to defriend them now.
From sharing a picture of the food you are eating, venting about the fight you are having, the tooth brushing episode, the fake farm, and the real dog that wants to be your facebook friend, these can all be a fun part of the social networking phenomena, but please leave your camera or smart phone on the coffee table when you go into the restroom.
I have a facebook account but rarely use it, I love writing and commenting on blogs, bloggers share their experiences with words and pictures, not hourly status updates, I don’t think fast enough to tweet or check status updates, I would hate to document my every move each day, the public scrutiny of all the friends I have accumulated just because my wife is a virtual farmer is not something I really want.
If I were to die today, my blogging buddies I hope would wonder where I went and reminisce about all of my amazing posts, and if I were addicted to facebook I have a feeling I would be required to take a self portrait as I fell to the floor with a final “Status Update: checking out now, please tend my crop of candy corn before it withers”
Putting yourself out there on the internet is really a big thing, any communication like this adds your pictures and such to the public domain, just think if you make an offhand comment about a friend and want to take it back, face to face you can offer an apology, the off hand comment will always be in the back of your friends mind, but most friends will let it go.
On the Internet these comments have a tendency to go viral so to say, everyone and their dog has read it, every picture good or bad has been viewed, some have copy and pasted it on their pages and it is all of a sudden around the world, you make an apology and some read it and grin but this goes nowhere, and the picture you decide to remove is actually already showing up other places.
Make sure the pictures you share and the information you post is something you don’t mind going around the world, because in fact it just may.
Seriously, be careful what you post because once it’s out there you can never take it back.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Free Money
Before moving to California we used to sit and watch programs like COPS, the chases always kept us on the edge of our seats and made you wonder just when the old PIT maneuver was coming or else why these people were even trying to outrun the cops.
Since we moved here we no longer watch these programs, with about 340 chases a year in this area and just four in the last week, all we have to do is watch the evening news and see the drama as it unfolds.
What do you think about seeing a wild car chase with money flying out the windows? This actually happened yesterday in LA, I don’t think it was one of our politicians fulfilling a campaign promise late in the game, but actually a bank robbery gone wrong.
To make a long story short and not repeat the newscast, a bank robbery resulted in a car chase ending up in South Los Angeles, a stolen SUV flying down residential streets with the suspects throwing money out the windows.
People watching the chase on TV ran into the streets to scoop up the cash, once the suspect vehicle was blocked and officers were attempting to arrest them, a crowd of about one hundred people surrounded them attempting to get their share of the free money so to say.
The officers had to call for backup, to control the crowd LAPD was forced to come out in riot gear to restore order, people were actually running out into the streets behind the suspect vehicle, causing police vehicles to swerve and brake in an attempt to miss them.
One woman was witnessed jumping into the suspect vehicle while the arrests were being made but she got away, no one knows if she took anything with her but I lay odds she picked up some cash, a man was taken to the hospital with complaints that he was struck by a police vehicle, I smell a lawsuit, and a fight broke out at the arrest scene with one woman claiming the police had laid hands on her daughter and grand baby, the daughter was said to be one of the robbers “Baby Momma” and the child his, my question is why were they at the arrest scene?
Police claim to have a geo tagging device that marks the location of items thrown from a fleeing vehicle, this is well and good but I don’t see any of the money being found lying on the street, because as one resident put it “This is our neighborhood stimulus package”
Several people were interviewed on the news, I had to laugh at the amounts of money they claimed to have picked up, one young woman said she only found two dollars, another said he ran after the suspects while the money was flying out the windows but never picked up any money, another said he had a substantial amount and planned to turn it in, although at the time of the newscast last night no money had been recovered.
The news is amazing, and the actions of people are scary at times, how much money do you really think will be turned back in? What would you do if you saw money flying out of a car window while being chased by the police?
I don’t see myself jumping into the path of a patrol car to pick up cash, and I would hope that if I were in this situation, I would realize the money in my hand does not belong to me.
Since we moved here we no longer watch these programs, with about 340 chases a year in this area and just four in the last week, all we have to do is watch the evening news and see the drama as it unfolds.
What do you think about seeing a wild car chase with money flying out the windows? This actually happened yesterday in LA, I don’t think it was one of our politicians fulfilling a campaign promise late in the game, but actually a bank robbery gone wrong.
To make a long story short and not repeat the newscast, a bank robbery resulted in a car chase ending up in South Los Angeles, a stolen SUV flying down residential streets with the suspects throwing money out the windows.
People watching the chase on TV ran into the streets to scoop up the cash, once the suspect vehicle was blocked and officers were attempting to arrest them, a crowd of about one hundred people surrounded them attempting to get their share of the free money so to say.
The officers had to call for backup, to control the crowd LAPD was forced to come out in riot gear to restore order, people were actually running out into the streets behind the suspect vehicle, causing police vehicles to swerve and brake in an attempt to miss them.
One woman was witnessed jumping into the suspect vehicle while the arrests were being made but she got away, no one knows if she took anything with her but I lay odds she picked up some cash, a man was taken to the hospital with complaints that he was struck by a police vehicle, I smell a lawsuit, and a fight broke out at the arrest scene with one woman claiming the police had laid hands on her daughter and grand baby, the daughter was said to be one of the robbers “Baby Momma” and the child his, my question is why were they at the arrest scene?
Police claim to have a geo tagging device that marks the location of items thrown from a fleeing vehicle, this is well and good but I don’t see any of the money being found lying on the street, because as one resident put it “This is our neighborhood stimulus package”
Several people were interviewed on the news, I had to laugh at the amounts of money they claimed to have picked up, one young woman said she only found two dollars, another said he ran after the suspects while the money was flying out the windows but never picked up any money, another said he had a substantial amount and planned to turn it in, although at the time of the newscast last night no money had been recovered.
The news is amazing, and the actions of people are scary at times, how much money do you really think will be turned back in? What would you do if you saw money flying out of a car window while being chased by the police?
I don’t see myself jumping into the path of a patrol car to pick up cash, and I would hope that if I were in this situation, I would realize the money in my hand does not belong to me.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
She Was My Friend
Things that happened in the past make you who you are, memories of past experiences are cloudy or clear depending on how they affected you, the loss of a friend or family member is always hard, but how clear is the memory of the first friend you ever lost.
I mentioned a girl in a post I wrote a couple of years ago, Connie was a close friend at the time, I only knew her for a short while but her friendship is one you remember.
We did fun things together, things like catching a ride on the side of a garbage truck rather than walk the few blocks home, gather pots of flowers to line the yard because they looked pretty, realized too late that we were fugitives from the law not because of the flower pots, and discuss notes in a bottle thrown into the sea, wondering if they are ever found and read.
Back then the garbage was collected into a truck with a big opening in the back, men scattered all directions twirling 55 gallon drums on their edge, rolling them along into peoples yards to dump the galvanized garbage cans, then onto the next yard, when the drums were filled they went back to the truck to empty the drums.
On the sides of these trucks were narrow platforms with handholds above them where some of the men rode, I remember one large black man who rode this truck, he would toss his barrel into the back of the truck, reach out his hand to us and yell, “Want a ride?” after lifting Connie, my Brother, and I onto the platform with him the truck would proceed down the alleyway.
The police incident where we “watched the police drive up and down the street searching the neighborhood from her front porch one afternoon, while we were avoiding the step mom only to find out that we were the ones being searched for since the step mom reported us missing.”
My brother and I had slipped off to Connie’s house to watch cartoons and play in her yard for a change, fugitives from the law, I was so embarrassed when we were treated as such, we had to ride in the back of a patrol car for the long one block ride home, Connie never gave us a hard time about this, because it had scared her just as bad as it did us.
Connie always talked about putting a note in a bottle to toss into the ocean, we lived nowhere near water so she would write a note and release it into the wind, the wind seemed to always blow and her notes took flight easily, most I feel ended up in the gutter of the street but you never know where the wind will take your words.
The garbage trucks no longer allow kids to catch a ride, the flower pots we had to take back because the lady across the alley convinced us they should stay where she had placed them in her own yard, no court records of our great escape ever came back to haunt us, and notes were never thrown into the sea.
Connie was killed when she stepped off the curb in front of an off duty ambulance, the driver of this ambulance had to care for her and transport her himself, since no other ambulances were available to come to her aid, this all happened a block from where we lived, she was seven years old and I just a few months over eight.
I ask myself how in the world can some ones memory stick with you this long, it has been a bit over forty five years since she was killed, and I still remember the fun we had that summer, I hope that at least one of her notes ended up in the hand of a person who smiled at the story written on note paper and released into the wind, a story from the eyes of a child.
Remember those you lost way back then and keep their memory alive, there are a lot of people who only touch you for a brief time but their memories last a lifetime, is there a friend you lost at a young age like this, one that keeps popping back into your head, or is it just me?
I find myself at her grave every time we go back to town, a girl who was my friend for nearly a year, back when we were just kids, the answer to why I do this is simple.
She was my friend.
I mentioned a girl in a post I wrote a couple of years ago, Connie was a close friend at the time, I only knew her for a short while but her friendship is one you remember.
We did fun things together, things like catching a ride on the side of a garbage truck rather than walk the few blocks home, gather pots of flowers to line the yard because they looked pretty, realized too late that we were fugitives from the law not because of the flower pots, and discuss notes in a bottle thrown into the sea, wondering if they are ever found and read.
Back then the garbage was collected into a truck with a big opening in the back, men scattered all directions twirling 55 gallon drums on their edge, rolling them along into peoples yards to dump the galvanized garbage cans, then onto the next yard, when the drums were filled they went back to the truck to empty the drums.
On the sides of these trucks were narrow platforms with handholds above them where some of the men rode, I remember one large black man who rode this truck, he would toss his barrel into the back of the truck, reach out his hand to us and yell, “Want a ride?” after lifting Connie, my Brother, and I onto the platform with him the truck would proceed down the alleyway.
The police incident where we “watched the police drive up and down the street searching the neighborhood from her front porch one afternoon, while we were avoiding the step mom only to find out that we were the ones being searched for since the step mom reported us missing.”
My brother and I had slipped off to Connie’s house to watch cartoons and play in her yard for a change, fugitives from the law, I was so embarrassed when we were treated as such, we had to ride in the back of a patrol car for the long one block ride home, Connie never gave us a hard time about this, because it had scared her just as bad as it did us.
Connie always talked about putting a note in a bottle to toss into the ocean, we lived nowhere near water so she would write a note and release it into the wind, the wind seemed to always blow and her notes took flight easily, most I feel ended up in the gutter of the street but you never know where the wind will take your words.
The garbage trucks no longer allow kids to catch a ride, the flower pots we had to take back because the lady across the alley convinced us they should stay where she had placed them in her own yard, no court records of our great escape ever came back to haunt us, and notes were never thrown into the sea.
Connie was killed when she stepped off the curb in front of an off duty ambulance, the driver of this ambulance had to care for her and transport her himself, since no other ambulances were available to come to her aid, this all happened a block from where we lived, she was seven years old and I just a few months over eight.
I ask myself how in the world can some ones memory stick with you this long, it has been a bit over forty five years since she was killed, and I still remember the fun we had that summer, I hope that at least one of her notes ended up in the hand of a person who smiled at the story written on note paper and released into the wind, a story from the eyes of a child.
Remember those you lost way back then and keep their memory alive, there are a lot of people who only touch you for a brief time but their memories last a lifetime, is there a friend you lost at a young age like this, one that keeps popping back into your head, or is it just me?
I find myself at her grave every time we go back to town, a girl who was my friend for nearly a year, back when we were just kids, the answer to why I do this is simple.
She was my friend.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
When Two Is Too Many
During our visit to see the kids we had planned to go to the County Fair, when we got into town we found the fair had been there the previous week, so we had missed it altogether, not to be outdone nor lose out on a good old county fair, we just picked another county.
Cindy got Benjamin all pumped up for Fair Night, and early that evening we all loaded up and drove south to the next county, where the fair was running it’s last night in town, we were not missing this one.
Benjamin was in awe at the rides, there were the little trains which I thought he should be able to ride, and the bumblebees which is one of those rides that simply goes around in circles, this one was iffy but with a parent I was hoping, Elisa asked the carnies and they were not having it, the height requirement was 36” and measuring Benjamin he hit the 31” mark, so with a grunt and a point to the sign we were turned away.
He was a bit short for the duck game too, but with help from Mimi it worked out just fine, all he had to do was pick up a floating duck and the number on the bottom told which selection of prizes he had won, easy right?
Benjamin took these floating ducks as a challenge, Duck Duck Splash, whack a mole, or whack a duck, I am not sure what to call it but a lot of floating ducks got whacked before he ever picked one up, we spent a good bit of time here and he walked away wet and with a handful of toys.
The animal exhibit was great, it is amazing the preparations that these kids go through to show the animals at a fair, my hat is off to all the FFA, Four H, and general farm kids who take time to do this, I am also amazed at the people who can’t read a sign right in front of their faces.
We were looking at all the different rabbits and Benjamin was really enjoying this, in one cage was a small black bunny with short ears, on the front of his cage was a huge sign that read, “Warning This Rabbit Bites” it was on yellow construction paper in red letters to make it easy to see.
A young woman walks up laughing at the short eared bunny, she actually pushed the sign aside and tried to pet him, the rabbit lunges at her and she jumps back, only to try again, he nearly gets hold of her finger this time and she laughs, she yells to her husband, “Hey look here, wonder what’s wrong with this rabbit”, he simply points to the sign, she says “Well someone should let you know stuff like this” and off they go, my question is wasn’t that what the sign was for?
There were a lot of games to be played, a lot of people to watch, a lot of laughter to be shared, and an all around fun evening for all, but what is the one thing we all go to the fair for, for my wife it is Fair Food and Funnel Cake!
The girls decided it was time for Funnel Cake so it was up to Tim and I to go stand in line, we asked the simple question, Who wants funnel cake? Cindy says I want one, Randy’s Girlfriend declines and Elisa says I’ll take one too, so we come back with two funnel cakes.
Now how did this become a problem? Two funnel cakes at five dollars a whack when one was more than enough we were told, now in our defense both girls said I want a funnel cake.Right? We should know this only meant one, how about if I said I want a beer and Jimmy said I want one too, would you only bring one beer was Tims question.
Cindy got Benjamin all pumped up for Fair Night, and early that evening we all loaded up and drove south to the next county, where the fair was running it’s last night in town, we were not missing this one.
Benjamin was in awe at the rides, there were the little trains which I thought he should be able to ride, and the bumblebees which is one of those rides that simply goes around in circles, this one was iffy but with a parent I was hoping, Elisa asked the carnies and they were not having it, the height requirement was 36” and measuring Benjamin he hit the 31” mark, so with a grunt and a point to the sign we were turned away.
He was a bit short for the duck game too, but with help from Mimi it worked out just fine, all he had to do was pick up a floating duck and the number on the bottom told which selection of prizes he had won, easy right?
The animal exhibit was great, it is amazing the preparations that these kids go through to show the animals at a fair, my hat is off to all the FFA, Four H, and general farm kids who take time to do this, I am also amazed at the people who can’t read a sign right in front of their faces.
We were looking at all the different rabbits and Benjamin was really enjoying this, in one cage was a small black bunny with short ears, on the front of his cage was a huge sign that read, “Warning This Rabbit Bites” it was on yellow construction paper in red letters to make it easy to see.
A young woman walks up laughing at the short eared bunny, she actually pushed the sign aside and tried to pet him, the rabbit lunges at her and she jumps back, only to try again, he nearly gets hold of her finger this time and she laughs, she yells to her husband, “Hey look here, wonder what’s wrong with this rabbit”, he simply points to the sign, she says “Well someone should let you know stuff like this” and off they go, my question is wasn’t that what the sign was for?
And needless to say Benjamin was up for this.
The girls decided it was time for Funnel Cake so it was up to Tim and I to go stand in line, we asked the simple question, Who wants funnel cake? Cindy says I want one, Randy’s Girlfriend declines and Elisa says I’ll take one too, so we come back with two funnel cakes.
This is when the girls took their funnel cakes and we went home.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Benefits And Promises
Making a decision can be hard but it is something you have to do, you look at the line of potential candidates and have to decipher which pair will fit your needs, then if you are not happy with your choice it’s up to you to either impeach them so to say, or live with your decision no matter how uncomfortable you are.
Sometimes you end up with a pair that was not exactly what you wanted, I remember about four years ago I was looking at a pair I thought would work out, but now I can see my fears were correct about the pair I ended up with, should have dumped them then.
Will a new pair be able to repeal all the bad things the last pair created? The old pair may have started off with grand promises, but the underlying support ended up being thin and weak at best, adding more support is just throwing good money after bad in the end, most times it really doesn’t gel.
While on vacation Cindy and I had several discussions concerning her choice for the perfect pair, although my ideas are different at times, it is her decision to choose what is right for her, I vote for this pair because they feel right, but she votes for another because they look good.
I guess when it comes to getting women to buy what you have, it’s all about the look, cute sells and comfort takes a back seat at times to empty promises, the fit may not be perfect but if it looks good then the woman’s vote has been bought.
I on the other hand will go for what fits correctly and will last, in spite of what is brought up in the debate process, I see through the empty promises of lasting comfort and new ideas about how my sole will be supported, I wont buy it now and accept an apology later for the failure, let me worry about what fits correctly, I will decide once I have found a pair to fit my needs, rather than buy into the rhetoric of someone else’s idea about my sole.
Cindy on the other hand does look at the fit, the campaign slogan for this one does get her attention, but most times it comes down to the look, the promise on certain days that there will be no taxes does sell, so now she has three different pairs to decide on.
I have spent hours with her discussing the benefit of each one, where did this one actually come from, was it made here or actually somewhere else? I have also spent hours just sitting and watching her try out the different platforms, actually trying to make the cute ones work.
Don’t ever worry about cute, listen to the benefits and promises of each one and make an informed decision, go for what fits your lifestyle properly, feels good, and has the quality you deserve.
The decision you make will walk right into your life and be with you for a long time, unless you attempt to hide them in the closet, the perfect pair is out there but sad to say what we are looking for is not always available.
Shoe shopping should not be this hard, three pairs of shoes in one trip should make anyone happy, aren’t you glad I wasn’t talking politics.
Sometimes you end up with a pair that was not exactly what you wanted, I remember about four years ago I was looking at a pair I thought would work out, but now I can see my fears were correct about the pair I ended up with, should have dumped them then.
Will a new pair be able to repeal all the bad things the last pair created? The old pair may have started off with grand promises, but the underlying support ended up being thin and weak at best, adding more support is just throwing good money after bad in the end, most times it really doesn’t gel.
While on vacation Cindy and I had several discussions concerning her choice for the perfect pair, although my ideas are different at times, it is her decision to choose what is right for her, I vote for this pair because they feel right, but she votes for another because they look good.
I guess when it comes to getting women to buy what you have, it’s all about the look, cute sells and comfort takes a back seat at times to empty promises, the fit may not be perfect but if it looks good then the woman’s vote has been bought.
I on the other hand will go for what fits correctly and will last, in spite of what is brought up in the debate process, I see through the empty promises of lasting comfort and new ideas about how my sole will be supported, I wont buy it now and accept an apology later for the failure, let me worry about what fits correctly, I will decide once I have found a pair to fit my needs, rather than buy into the rhetoric of someone else’s idea about my sole.
Cindy on the other hand does look at the fit, the campaign slogan for this one does get her attention, but most times it comes down to the look, the promise on certain days that there will be no taxes does sell, so now she has three different pairs to decide on.
I have spent hours with her discussing the benefit of each one, where did this one actually come from, was it made here or actually somewhere else? I have also spent hours just sitting and watching her try out the different platforms, actually trying to make the cute ones work.
Don’t ever worry about cute, listen to the benefits and promises of each one and make an informed decision, go for what fits your lifestyle properly, feels good, and has the quality you deserve.
The decision you make will walk right into your life and be with you for a long time, unless you attempt to hide them in the closet, the perfect pair is out there but sad to say what we are looking for is not always available.
Shoe shopping should not be this hard, three pairs of shoes in one trip should make anyone happy, aren’t you glad I wasn’t talking politics.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Straw Hat Survival
I told my Daughter In Law Elisa back when Benjamin was born, that as soon as he was old enough I was going to buy him a straw hat and bring him home with me, I have a lot of jobs around here that a young Grandson should be able to do.
Picking up pine cones, digging in Mimi’s flowerbeds, throwing those millions of rocks down from the hill so we can toss them back up, or learning from Papa how to catch those pesky gophers, as many of my longtime readers know I am quite the expert at catching gophers, Freeze Gopher proves this or maybe not.
At any rate running the family farm involves a good straw hat, so on our way to see the kids I couldn’t stop myself from getting one for Benjamin, Elisa didn’t let me bring him home but after spending a couple of weeks with him, I feel that this just may happen sooner than we realize.
When we first arrived shortly after the initial hugs and kisses, I took the hat out of the car, Benjamin grinned from ear to ear and promptly took to wearing his straw hat, whenever we were getting ready to go out, he would grab my hand and point to my hat and exclaim “Hat Papa Hat” then after my hat was positioned on my head he would run for his and yell “Hat Papa Hat” and I would place his on his head and off we would go.
This hat survived Fair Night, Zoo Day, the Mall, Boot shopping (a good straw hat needs a good pair of boots), Wally World, and falling to sleep, the thing that shows a two year old boy loves something is if it survives more than two hours, two weeks later this hat still looks new and he has worn it everyday.
I think Mimi may have gotten some of the credit for buying him the hat as she got more hugs and kisses than I did.
But in the end when he wanted to go out, it was Papa’s hat that was pointed to right before he grabbed his and we went for our walk.
Picking up pine cones, digging in Mimi’s flowerbeds, throwing those millions of rocks down from the hill so we can toss them back up, or learning from Papa how to catch those pesky gophers, as many of my longtime readers know I am quite the expert at catching gophers, Freeze Gopher proves this or maybe not.
At any rate running the family farm involves a good straw hat, so on our way to see the kids I couldn’t stop myself from getting one for Benjamin, Elisa didn’t let me bring him home but after spending a couple of weeks with him, I feel that this just may happen sooner than we realize.
This hat survived Fair Night, Zoo Day, the Mall, Boot shopping (a good straw hat needs a good pair of boots), Wally World, and falling to sleep, the thing that shows a two year old boy loves something is if it survives more than two hours, two weeks later this hat still looks new and he has worn it everyday.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Time For Change
Our little road trip is officially over, we made it home last night and it really felt good to get back to sleep in our own bed, the trip was great and we did enjoy seeing the kids and playing with our Grandson Benjamin.
While there Benjamin noticed my pocket watch and was curious about it, I let him see it and told him what time it was, so after this a few times each day he would come to me, point and say “Papa-time”, I would pull out my watch and let him look, I always told him the time and he would repeat it, most times he would look at Cindy and say something like “Mimi-four forty six”
This little lesson showing Benjamin how to tell time got me to thinking, I wonder how many kids in his generation will be able to tell time on a clock that is not digital, how many of these kids will ever actually see a watch with hands.
And another thing, in our digital world have you noticed no one counts back change, I remember when I was younger you always had your change counted back, say you bought something that cost $25.55, you pay with two twenties and you then hear, 25.55, 65, 75, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, and ten makes forty as they hand you back your change.
Now days you make the same purchase and the clerk rings it up takes your two twenties and says, Thank you here is your change, or if your are lucky they say 14.45 is your change, but rarely does anyone count back change, I asked a young lady why she didn’t count back my change, and with a puzzled look she pointed at the screen and said, the computer tells me how much to give you back.
The more I tried to explain counting change to her the less she seemed to understand, I am glad I didn’t give her forty dollars and a nickel so I would get back 14.50, I actually did that once and almost had the kid quit because he didn’t know how to punch it in, or what to do with the nickel.
I stopped at the Toot and Scoot and bought myself a Coke, it rang up 1.25 so I gave the kid two dollars, he gave me back eleven dollars and forty three cents, I told him you only owe me seventy five cents, he looked at the screen and said I see my mistake and gave me another penny.
I pushed the change back to him, and said seventy five cents, look at your screen and count it back, he grinned and said, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, It says 11.45 now and pushed another penny my way, scratching my head I asked him what time it was, he looked at the screen and said, “Oh man I have been looking at the clock”
The Toot and Scoot incident is a scenario I can see happening if we don’t teach our kids to be more reliant on their brains rather than allowing a computer to completely do their thinking.
Telling time on a clock with hands and counting back change is two things I believe we need to teach our kids and grandkids, or else our time and change just may get all mixed up. I really don’t know if I can get myself accustomed to eating lunch at a little after seventy-five cents.
While there Benjamin noticed my pocket watch and was curious about it, I let him see it and told him what time it was, so after this a few times each day he would come to me, point and say “Papa-time”, I would pull out my watch and let him look, I always told him the time and he would repeat it, most times he would look at Cindy and say something like “Mimi-four forty six”
And another thing, in our digital world have you noticed no one counts back change, I remember when I was younger you always had your change counted back, say you bought something that cost $25.55, you pay with two twenties and you then hear, 25.55, 65, 75, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, and ten makes forty as they hand you back your change.
Now days you make the same purchase and the clerk rings it up takes your two twenties and says, Thank you here is your change, or if your are lucky they say 14.45 is your change, but rarely does anyone count back change, I asked a young lady why she didn’t count back my change, and with a puzzled look she pointed at the screen and said, the computer tells me how much to give you back.
The more I tried to explain counting change to her the less she seemed to understand, I am glad I didn’t give her forty dollars and a nickel so I would get back 14.50, I actually did that once and almost had the kid quit because he didn’t know how to punch it in, or what to do with the nickel.
I stopped at the Toot and Scoot and bought myself a Coke, it rang up 1.25 so I gave the kid two dollars, he gave me back eleven dollars and forty three cents, I told him you only owe me seventy five cents, he looked at the screen and said I see my mistake and gave me another penny.
I pushed the change back to him, and said seventy five cents, look at your screen and count it back, he grinned and said, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, It says 11.45 now and pushed another penny my way, scratching my head I asked him what time it was, he looked at the screen and said, “Oh man I have been looking at the clock”
The Toot and Scoot incident is a scenario I can see happening if we don’t teach our kids to be more reliant on their brains rather than allowing a computer to completely do their thinking.
Telling time on a clock with hands and counting back change is two things I believe we need to teach our kids and grandkids, or else our time and change just may get all mixed up. I really don’t know if I can get myself accustomed to eating lunch at a little after seventy-five cents.
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