You know, technology continues to amaze me. It's is probably due in part because I'm old. We used to have to get up off the couch to change between our two TV channels when I was a kid. Now we're expend the time an energy to search for the remote for 15 minutes so we don't have to get up to change the channel.
When we wanted to correspond with someone who didn't live with us, we had to hand write a letter, lick the envelope to seal it, and even lick the back of the stamp to mail the letter. After posting my blog late Thursday evening, I awoke about six hours later and I already had a response from Ireland in my email inbox!
Just thought I would post an extra blog this week to share greetings from Father Harry...
Dear Mark,
Thanks for all the kind words in your present article.
You do realize that you'll get me in trouble with Pope Benie with your good Lutheran praise!
Recently, we, living on an island, became isolated because of the close-down of airports due to the volcanic eruption in Iceland.
Iceland has been in the news because the nation owed billions to the Netherlands and United Kingdom. They held a plebesite and voted not to repay it. What is not universally known is that there is no 'C' in the Iceleandic language, So the lenders were not repaid in cash but ash! Bottom of the barrel joke!
Love to Kathy and all the folks we know.
Fr. Harry
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Greetings from Ireland
I am absolutely in heaven these days. It does not get better than sunny and mid-60s. It seems like most years we have 40s for six weeks, then mid-60s for two and a half days, then 85 and humid. This year, however, pure grilling-burgers-in-the-back-yard-while-swilling-Diet-Dew weather. Now, if I were just home long enough to mow my lawn. Most of it is a shaggy three-to-four inches, but there is that area around the end of my sump pump hose that is tall enough to hide small children.
If you hear any of my neighbors complaining, tell them I’ll try to get to it Monday…if my mower starts...and if I can shoo those kids out of hiding.
I just wanted to check in with another short and sweet blog this week. I did want to give a shout out to an old friend of mine. Kathy and I got a card this week from a reader who qualifies me to say that my blog is read internationally. Outside of my mom, probably the biggest fan of my old newspaper column since I met him…we got a nice note from Father Harry Behan over in Ireland, my all-time favorite priest. I don’t know how high of praise that is coming from a Lutheran…but it is from the heart.
For those of you who don’t know Father Harry…and I can’t believe there are many of you in the area…he served the Catholic churches in Tyler and Lake Benton for many years. Long ago he started urging me to write my first book, with a promise he would buy the first 50 copies. If that ever happens, he will be offered the opportunity to write the foreward. That, because he also tops another of my lists…funniest Catholic. (Okay, I realize that bar isn’t set too high.)
I heard from Father Harry not too long after I was run out of the newspaper business, telling me he regretted not being able to read my stuff any more. Fortunately, I tracked down an email address from Tony Schwing over in Lake Benton and was able to send him a link to my blog.
The card I received from him last week included a nice compliment about my blog and a mention that he will be spending some time in the U.S. in the near future. Also included was my first ever dividend after a year of blogging. He included a check to treat Kathy and me to a “beer and a brat at the new Target Field.”
So this week’s blog is solely to say thanks to an old friend (I’m sure he would have a comment about me repeatedly referring to him as old) and to say “we miss you.”
And when Kathy and I finally get to Target Field for our first game, you can be sure we will get a picture of us at the game. We’ll be the fans holding a plump, juicy sausage and a cup of Budweiser…compliments of the funniest Catholic I know.
*****
Hey! One more weekend for “Last of the Red Hot Lovers” at the Opera House. This show is a hoot…come on down.
If you hear any of my neighbors complaining, tell them I’ll try to get to it Monday…if my mower starts...and if I can shoo those kids out of hiding.
I just wanted to check in with another short and sweet blog this week. I did want to give a shout out to an old friend of mine. Kathy and I got a card this week from a reader who qualifies me to say that my blog is read internationally. Outside of my mom, probably the biggest fan of my old newspaper column since I met him…we got a nice note from Father Harry Behan over in Ireland, my all-time favorite priest. I don’t know how high of praise that is coming from a Lutheran…but it is from the heart.
For those of you who don’t know Father Harry…and I can’t believe there are many of you in the area…he served the Catholic churches in Tyler and Lake Benton for many years. Long ago he started urging me to write my first book, with a promise he would buy the first 50 copies. If that ever happens, he will be offered the opportunity to write the foreward. That, because he also tops another of my lists…funniest Catholic. (Okay, I realize that bar isn’t set too high.)
I heard from Father Harry not too long after I was run out of the newspaper business, telling me he regretted not being able to read my stuff any more. Fortunately, I tracked down an email address from Tony Schwing over in Lake Benton and was able to send him a link to my blog.
The card I received from him last week included a nice compliment about my blog and a mention that he will be spending some time in the U.S. in the near future. Also included was my first ever dividend after a year of blogging. He included a check to treat Kathy and me to a “beer and a brat at the new Target Field.”
So this week’s blog is solely to say thanks to an old friend (I’m sure he would have a comment about me repeatedly referring to him as old) and to say “we miss you.”
And when Kathy and I finally get to Target Field for our first game, you can be sure we will get a picture of us at the game. We’ll be the fans holding a plump, juicy sausage and a cup of Budweiser…compliments of the funniest Catholic I know.
*****
Hey! One more weekend for “Last of the Red Hot Lovers” at the Opera House. This show is a hoot…come on down.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
I’m not complaining, okay?
Okay, yeah I know…I’ve been a bit of a slacker when it comes to blogging as of late. I’ve been trying to become a better fellow human being by not whining about how busy I am. It’s kind of like being a crack addict, however, and the temptation is always there… But hey! I’m only telling you this to explain why you haven’t been privy to any lackluster updates on my life here on my blog spot. I haven’t been home except to sleep since about mid-March.
I’m just saying, okay?
In addition, what is left of my spare time I spend answering questions from Hendricks, Lake Benton and Tyler residents on what is happening with the local newspaper, and is it true that I bought the papers. (It is not true.)
Anyway, the reason for my absenteeism over the past few weeks opens Friday night at the Lake Benton Opera House—Neil Simon’s “Last of the Red Hot Lovers.” If you get a chance, come on down for a couple hours of pretty darn good comedy. You don’t even have to get up from your comfy computer chair…you can order tickets by emailing lakebentonoperahouse@gmail.com. Serving up some great comedy will be Stu Melby of Brookings, Dorothy Darveaux of Pipestone, Beth Reams of Brookings and Nancy Stuefen of Volga. (Stu and Beth are pictured.)
Opening night is always a great night—it is when the work ends and the fun begins. I can no longer do any more damage to the production as the director, and unless I agree to something stupid, I’ll be home on Sunday night!!!
I should point out that due to the fact I won’t be home until Sunday, ***this blog has not been proofed by Kathy to make sure I don’t look like an idiot--any typos, grammatical errors or dangling participles are strictly due to my own ineptitude.***
And don’t tell me you haven’t dangled a few of your own in your life…
Talk to you next week…I hope.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Happiness is having friends who give you money
Yikes! That was a nasty run of being gone about 75 consecutive nights…but as of Thursday night when I sat down to start banging out a column, I was staring down the barrel of a glorious three-day weekend. The countdown to Easter dinner has begun.
Thanks to those of you who either participated in or attended the “Broadway Meets Lake Benton” show on Saturday. It makes for a bloated schedule when I am not smart enough to know that I shouldn’t get involved in two Opera House shows simultaneously. When all is said and done, however, I am thrilled I got to spend some time with a few people with whom I love hanging out.
With performing in “Broadway” behind me and directing “Last of the Red Hot Lovers” ongoing, I continue to fill up my evenings spending time with some of these fine people.
Good friends recently have improved my financial outlook for the near future. I have about 20 good friends who next week I’m hoping will reward me for my NCAA picks. Somehow, after Kansas, Kentucky and a host of others ravaged my brackets, I’m tied for second place in the annual pool, with a shot at being in the money. Now if Duke would just win on Saturday and lose on Monday…
I have another dozen or so friends at the office who also are looking at coming up with a bit of cash for me. Back in February, I got in a pool with my co-workers to predict the date that the gigantic snow pile on the north side of our building would be completely melted. I should be counting that bundle about mid-week next week…what great friends I have.
Mom always said, “the only thing better than friends are friends who give you cash.” Well, maybe that wasn’t Mom…it might have been Uncle Maynard.
I get another bonus next week, when I start spending some time with 25 guys I consider my friends because the Minnesota Twins open their 2010 season at the sparkling new Target Field. I’m nearly giddy with excitement.
And speaking of friends with cash, Joe Mauer certainly wouldn’t miss some of his. As a matter of fact, I would marry the guy if he asked me…and, I guess, if we lived in Iowa where that kind of thing is legal. I’ve heard tales of his man-cave Up North that gives me goose bumps. Maybe he needs a man-cave sitter while he is on those long road trips. I wouldn’t charge much.
Here’s wishing you all a Happy Easter this weekend. Have a great time with your families and friends.
If you can, come see “Last of the Red Hot Lovers” at the Opera House. It opens on April 16th with six shows over two weekends. You’ll get to meet some of those friends I’ve been bragging about and get a hint of why I like spending so much time with them.
Now I could just get them to throw in a few bucks and guess when we will have our first 80-degree day in Lincoln County. I’m on a roll…
And Uncle Maynard is smiling down on me…
Thanks to those of you who either participated in or attended the “Broadway Meets Lake Benton” show on Saturday. It makes for a bloated schedule when I am not smart enough to know that I shouldn’t get involved in two Opera House shows simultaneously. When all is said and done, however, I am thrilled I got to spend some time with a few people with whom I love hanging out.
With performing in “Broadway” behind me and directing “Last of the Red Hot Lovers” ongoing, I continue to fill up my evenings spending time with some of these fine people.
Good friends recently have improved my financial outlook for the near future. I have about 20 good friends who next week I’m hoping will reward me for my NCAA picks. Somehow, after Kansas, Kentucky and a host of others ravaged my brackets, I’m tied for second place in the annual pool, with a shot at being in the money. Now if Duke would just win on Saturday and lose on Monday…
I have another dozen or so friends at the office who also are looking at coming up with a bit of cash for me. Back in February, I got in a pool with my co-workers to predict the date that the gigantic snow pile on the north side of our building would be completely melted. I should be counting that bundle about mid-week next week…what great friends I have.
Mom always said, “the only thing better than friends are friends who give you cash.” Well, maybe that wasn’t Mom…it might have been Uncle Maynard.
I get another bonus next week, when I start spending some time with 25 guys I consider my friends because the Minnesota Twins open their 2010 season at the sparkling new Target Field. I’m nearly giddy with excitement.
And speaking of friends with cash, Joe Mauer certainly wouldn’t miss some of his. As a matter of fact, I would marry the guy if he asked me…and, I guess, if we lived in Iowa where that kind of thing is legal. I’ve heard tales of his man-cave Up North that gives me goose bumps. Maybe he needs a man-cave sitter while he is on those long road trips. I wouldn’t charge much.
Here’s wishing you all a Happy Easter this weekend. Have a great time with your families and friends.
If you can, come see “Last of the Red Hot Lovers” at the Opera House. It opens on April 16th with six shows over two weekends. You’ll get to meet some of those friends I’ve been bragging about and get a hint of why I like spending so much time with them.
Now I could just get them to throw in a few bucks and guess when we will have our first 80-degree day in Lincoln County. I’m on a roll…
And Uncle Maynard is smiling down on me…
Thursday, March 18, 2010
It’s a bird…it’s a plane…it’s…the sun?
It is amazing how much happier everyone seems when the fog dissipates and the sun comes out. That was a long stretch of drear we endured here in the southwestern corner of our great state. I was in the Twin Cities for an Adobe InDesign seminar Wednesday, where it was a sunny 62 degrees. Unfortunately I spent eight hours in a windowless conference room at the downtown Marriott in Minneapolis. The good news is that I emerged smarter than I was when I entered…although that bar isn’t set too high.
I am so struck by the nice weather I can even foresee myself summer-izing and stowing my snow blower this weekend…without fear of jinxing us into a relapse.
Another month or so and Kathy and I can pull out our lawn chairs and watch to see if last fall’s front yard grass seeding worked!
Spring is one of two reasons I absolutely love living in Minnesota.
The other, of course, would be Michele Bachmann. (rimshot…cymbal splash…thanks, I’ll be here all week.)
Actually I like autumn even better, but that is easy to forget when I am in the throes of the vernal equinox here in the Northern Hemisphere. Those of you who know me wouldn’t be surprised, I suppose, to hear that my third favorite season is winter.
Without further ado, however…you knew it would be coming…here are my Top Ten Signs Spring Is Here!
10. I am again poised to prove my amazing prescience in choosing my NCAA bracket winners.
9. I’ve switched from not walking on the treadmill to not walking outside.
8. Those damn filet-of-fish commercials…enough said.
7. Tea Party protesters have switched from shouting in five-buckle overshoes and quilted underwear to shouting in…um…yeah, that really won’t change much until early July.
6. Ducks and geese are once again able to swim directly across Hwy 14 east of Tyler.
5. Dr. Snow is digging out his “Second Place in the American League Central Division” Detroit Tigers t-shirt.
4. Ducks and geese are once again able to swim directly across our basement.
3. Will soon be able to switch my Facebook profile picture from furry winter hat to my Twins cap.
2. THE SPRING KICKOFF AT THE LAKE BENTON OPERA HOUSE…“BROADWAY MEETS LAKE BENTON”… ON MARCH 27TH WITH SHOWS AT 2:00 AND 7:30. CALL 507-368-4620 TO RESERVE YOUR SEAT OR EMAIL LAKEBENTONOPERAHOUSE@GMAIL.COM!
And the number one Sign That Spring Is Here…
1. Snow banks have receded enough for everyone to find last year’s Christmas lawn ornaments!
I am so struck by the nice weather I can even foresee myself summer-izing and stowing my snow blower this weekend…without fear of jinxing us into a relapse.
Another month or so and Kathy and I can pull out our lawn chairs and watch to see if last fall’s front yard grass seeding worked!
Spring is one of two reasons I absolutely love living in Minnesota.
The other, of course, would be Michele Bachmann. (rimshot…cymbal splash…thanks, I’ll be here all week.)
Actually I like autumn even better, but that is easy to forget when I am in the throes of the vernal equinox here in the Northern Hemisphere. Those of you who know me wouldn’t be surprised, I suppose, to hear that my third favorite season is winter.
Without further ado, however…you knew it would be coming…here are my Top Ten Signs Spring Is Here!
10. I am again poised to prove my amazing prescience in choosing my NCAA bracket winners.
9. I’ve switched from not walking on the treadmill to not walking outside.
8. Those damn filet-of-fish commercials…enough said.
7. Tea Party protesters have switched from shouting in five-buckle overshoes and quilted underwear to shouting in…um…yeah, that really won’t change much until early July.
6. Ducks and geese are once again able to swim directly across Hwy 14 east of Tyler.
5. Dr. Snow is digging out his “Second Place in the American League Central Division” Detroit Tigers t-shirt.
4. Ducks and geese are once again able to swim directly across our basement.
3. Will soon be able to switch my Facebook profile picture from furry winter hat to my Twins cap.
2. THE SPRING KICKOFF AT THE LAKE BENTON OPERA HOUSE…“BROADWAY MEETS LAKE BENTON”… ON MARCH 27TH WITH SHOWS AT 2:00 AND 7:30. CALL 507-368-4620 TO RESERVE YOUR SEAT OR EMAIL LAKEBENTONOPERAHOUSE@GMAIL.COM!
And the number one Sign That Spring Is Here…
1. Snow banks have receded enough for everyone to find last year’s Christmas lawn ornaments!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Always room for one more Wilmes…
Hi all! Due to the fact that a couple dozen people have requested a piece of my time over the past few days, this week’s blog will be short and to the point. That, my faithful readers, would be to your benefit.
Yes, I survived the 2010 edition of the Wilmes Family Board Game Weekend. Yes, the food was awesome. Yes, we laughed too hard and slept too little. Thanks again to Clay and Linda for hosting the madness.
And yes, I once again was dominant. It is like a curse.
The main event, as you well know, was the chance to meet our newest family member, Meghan Wilmes, the young accidental email recipient over the past couple o
f years. (You’ll have to check out the blog archives for the complete background…trust me, it will be worth your time.)
Meghan also brought a gentleman named Todd. We’re not sure if this mysterious man was friend, boyfriend, hired bodyguard, neighbor or co-worker. What we do know is that he was a hoot, as was Meghan. They both fit right in as if they had been attending for years.
I am not only impressed that Meghan was willing to come, but Todd also.
“Yeah, Todd? Meghan here. Um…Friday night I’m going to visit a house full of strangers who have been stalking me on the Internet since early 2007. Just wondering if you want to come with…”
I’m not sure if he owes her money or lost a bet or what, but somehow he was coerced into escorting her to the big event.
You will find friend/boyfriend/bodyguard/neighbor/co-worker Todd and Meghan right there at the end of the table in the accompanying picture.
The party broke up about 1:30 AM and we parted hoping we see them again at some point.
Now that we pulled that off, we have to decide who we are going to get to fall for the old “accidentally included you in our group emails” trick this year…
Darla…start Googling.
Yes, I survived the 2010 edition of the Wilmes Family Board Game Weekend. Yes, the food was awesome. Yes, we laughed too hard and slept too little. Thanks again to Clay and Linda for hosting the madness.
And yes, I once again was dominant. It is like a curse.
The main event, as you well know, was the chance to meet our newest family member, Meghan Wilmes, the young accidental email recipient over the past couple o
f years. (You’ll have to check out the blog archives for the complete background…trust me, it will be worth your time.)Meghan also brought a gentleman named Todd. We’re not sure if this mysterious man was friend, boyfriend, hired bodyguard, neighbor or co-worker. What we do know is that he was a hoot, as was Meghan. They both fit right in as if they had been attending for years.
I am not only impressed that Meghan was willing to come, but Todd also.
“Yeah, Todd? Meghan here. Um…Friday night I’m going to visit a house full of strangers who have been stalking me on the Internet since early 2007. Just wondering if you want to come with…”
I’m not sure if he owes her money or lost a bet or what, but somehow he was coerced into escorting her to the big event.
You will find friend/boyfriend/bodyguard/neighbor/co-worker Todd and Meghan right there at the end of the table in the accompanying picture.
The party broke up about 1:30 AM and we parted hoping we see them again at some point.
Now that we pulled that off, we have to decide who we are going to get to fall for the old “accidentally included you in our group emails” trick this year…
Darla…start Googling.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
I'm not heavy...I'm his brother
Somewhere around 20 years or more ago--the facts are fuzzy at this point--my wife Kathy and I made the trip to New Hope (the west side of the Twin Cities metro) to visit my brother Clay and his wife Linda. I don't remember what we did or how long we stayed. It is probably a pretty safe bet that we probably played some board games and maybe watched a movie or two. We most likely did some shopping. These memories come to you from someone who can't remember if it is recycle week until I check in front of the neighbor's house to see if their tubs are at the curb.
Somehow...according to the (sub)urban legend...that innocent weekend spawned a three-day spectacle that includes non-stop games, food, laughs, teasing and possibly a modicum of alcohol. There are crock pots full of bun toppings (and only Steve's Affiliated buns from Lake Benton will do), pans of bars, ice cream pails of cookies, cake pans of cheesy potatoes, breakfast buffets...and I think there might be some fresh fruit. This delicious spread is always available, just in case we get weak from all the gaming.
I speak, of course, of Wilmes Family Board Game Weekend.
I'm not sure how it got to be where it is today...the 30 or more attendees and non-stop decadence. Clay claims Kathy and I just kept inviting more and more people each year without his permission, but I would lean more towards the irresistible pull of Clay's charm, serving as a beacon from our rural existence and guiding us to a suburban Nirvana. The natural magnetism, if you will, of his personality.
This, indubitably, is despite his email from earlier today claiming his fun this weekend will begin at about 2:00 on Sunday.
What a jokester!
As I mentioned last week, there is a bit of a twist this year. For anyone who has been reading this blog for awhile, you may remember our inadvertent family member, Meghan Wilmes. The short version: this poor young woman from Hugo, MN had the misfortune of having the same initials as me, and has been included in all the Wilmes family group emails over the past two years. She finally got through to us a couple of months ago that she is "not part of our family." She was very gracious about the fact she has been getting pie requests, holiday invitations and medical updates for longer than we care to know, because someone in our family (who also happens to have more than his share of charm) had my personal email address entered into his computer incorrectly. For those of you who haven't been reading this blog for long and would like the rest of this odd story, scroll down on this page. On the left side you will see blog archives. Click on "2009," then "November," and then "Meghan Who?"
A few weeks ago, I extended a formal invitation to Meghan to attend this year's festivities (I swear, this is the first time I've invited anyone extra...), not wanting to frighten her into thinking we were stalking her, but figuring we at least owed her a chance to meet the people she has been reading about...and she accepted. Tomorrow night (Friday) Meghan and a gentleman named Todd will be coming over for a meet and greet, and a bit of Marcello's pizza.
Meghan recently returned from a trip to Costa Rica, where she did some major volunteer mission work. I, of course, remember that one time I helped fill Santa bags in Lake Benton. We'll have plenty of stories to share about giving of ourselves on a global scale.
I would guess I'll have stories to share of the weekend in my blog next week...and maybe a few pictures. Clay and Linda have been empty-nesters for years. About 362-½ days of the year you can hear the soft ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall. But on a very special 2-½ days in late winter, it is the equivalent of Times Square on New Year's Eve. I have to believe they relish the break from the norm...
Now that I think of it, I don't ever remember seeing Clay after about 10:30 on those board game nights. Maybe his happiness cup gets so full he has to take a small break to keep from getting too giddy...
Maybe he slinks away to start planning for the next board game weekend...
Or, heaven forbid, he needs a break from our obtrusive, insensitive, boorish...
Nah...HE LOVES US!
SEE YA TOMORROW NIGHT, BROTHER!
Somehow...according to the (sub)urban legend...that innocent weekend spawned a three-day spectacle that includes non-stop games, food, laughs, teasing and possibly a modicum of alcohol. There are crock pots full of bun toppings (and only Steve's Affiliated buns from Lake Benton will do), pans of bars, ice cream pails of cookies, cake pans of cheesy potatoes, breakfast buffets...and I think there might be some fresh fruit. This delicious spread is always available, just in case we get weak from all the gaming.
I speak, of course, of Wilmes Family Board Game Weekend.
I'm not sure how it got to be where it is today...the 30 or more attendees and non-stop decadence. Clay claims Kathy and I just kept inviting more and more people each year without his permission, but I would lean more towards the irresistible pull of Clay's charm, serving as a beacon from our rural existence and guiding us to a suburban Nirvana. The natural magnetism, if you will, of his personality.
This, indubitably, is despite his email from earlier today claiming his fun this weekend will begin at about 2:00 on Sunday.
What a jokester!
As I mentioned last week, there is a bit of a twist this year. For anyone who has been reading this blog for awhile, you may remember our inadvertent family member, Meghan Wilmes. The short version: this poor young woman from Hugo, MN had the misfortune of having the same initials as me, and has been included in all the Wilmes family group emails over the past two years. She finally got through to us a couple of months ago that she is "not part of our family." She was very gracious about the fact she has been getting pie requests, holiday invitations and medical updates for longer than we care to know, because someone in our family (who also happens to have more than his share of charm) had my personal email address entered into his computer incorrectly. For those of you who haven't been reading this blog for long and would like the rest of this odd story, scroll down on this page. On the left side you will see blog archives. Click on "2009," then "November," and then "Meghan Who?"
A few weeks ago, I extended a formal invitation to Meghan to attend this year's festivities (I swear, this is the first time I've invited anyone extra...), not wanting to frighten her into thinking we were stalking her, but figuring we at least owed her a chance to meet the people she has been reading about...and she accepted. Tomorrow night (Friday) Meghan and a gentleman named Todd will be coming over for a meet and greet, and a bit of Marcello's pizza.
Meghan recently returned from a trip to Costa Rica, where she did some major volunteer mission work. I, of course, remember that one time I helped fill Santa bags in Lake Benton. We'll have plenty of stories to share about giving of ourselves on a global scale.
I would guess I'll have stories to share of the weekend in my blog next week...and maybe a few pictures. Clay and Linda have been empty-nesters for years. About 362-½ days of the year you can hear the soft ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall. But on a very special 2-½ days in late winter, it is the equivalent of Times Square on New Year's Eve. I have to believe they relish the break from the norm...
Now that I think of it, I don't ever remember seeing Clay after about 10:30 on those board game nights. Maybe his happiness cup gets so full he has to take a small break to keep from getting too giddy...
Maybe he slinks away to start planning for the next board game weekend...
Or, heaven forbid, he needs a break from our obtrusive, insensitive, boorish...
Nah...HE LOVES US!
SEE YA TOMORROW NIGHT, BROTHER!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
It might as well be spring…
Things are starting to look a bit brighter these days. The weather is supposed to give us a bit of relief this week. This is good, because my SUV needs washing desperately, and I’m tired of buffing it one spot at a time with my coat when I repeatedly underestimate my personal width as I walk by.
Another reason I find my excitement level spiking is that American Idol is finally getting down to business as they trimmed to the top 20 this week. I always think I’m safer proclaiming my love for the show in a blog so I don’t have to be scoffed at by some of you in person. I find that it doesn’t help, however, as I can still visualize some of you rolling your eyes at the mention of the show. I used to think the same thing…before I ever watched it, of course. I imagine that being a musician for most of my life helps draw me to the show. The added drama of becoming emotionally attached to some of these fledgling stars makes it downright addicting. This year has some extra spice, as Ellen DeGeneres has replaced Paula “What did she just say?” Abdul on the judges’ panel, and last year’s newcomer to the show, Kara DioGuardi gets all flushed whenever contestant Casey James performs. He will w
in the votes of millions of females during the competition…oh yeah, and he can sing also. I’ll be the first to admit that even I think the guy is good looking…not a judgment I normally make with males. If there is a downside, it would be that at this point in the competition the show is on for an unwieldy five hours per week. I still encourage you to give it a chance from here on out…I can’t imagine that the show wouldn’t melt even the coldest of hearts.
Of course anyone who has even remotely known me over the course of my life knows that one of my greatest joys in life is following the Minnesota Twins. You may want to reserve a spot on the bandwagon this year. They are going to be HOT! If, that is, they can find the new Target Field under all that snow by April. They have plugged a couple of holes in the lineup this year, and I’m excited that with spring training gearing up, I get Twins news EVERY DAY in the Minneapolis Star Tribune.
My tinglyness is nearly maxed out by the fact that coming up the first weekend of March is the annual Wilmes Family Board Game weekend in the Cities. Tune in next week to learn more, as this year’s event has an exciting twist…
I want to thank all the people who responded to last week’s blog about being happy by blog post, Facebook and email. Who knew there would be that many of you out there that are as passionate about the subject as I am…
Lending even MORE credence to my plea to spread happiness were a couple of guests on Minnesota Public Radio on Wednesday. Interviewed were Nicholas A. Christakis and James H. Fowler, authors of “Connected.” The book goes into great detail about how contagious an individual’s mood can be. One happy person can affect an entire network of friends and family in a positive way, just by being happy. One sad and depressing person can pull an entire household and environs in the other direction. Happiness breeds happiness people! Go out and infect someone this week!
And what the heck…do it without a coat!!!
Another reason I find my excitement level spiking is that American Idol is finally getting down to business as they trimmed to the top 20 this week. I always think I’m safer proclaiming my love for the show in a blog so I don’t have to be scoffed at by some of you in person. I find that it doesn’t help, however, as I can still visualize some of you rolling your eyes at the mention of the show. I used to think the same thing…before I ever watched it, of course. I imagine that being a musician for most of my life helps draw me to the show. The added drama of becoming emotionally attached to some of these fledgling stars makes it downright addicting. This year has some extra spice, as Ellen DeGeneres has replaced Paula “What did she just say?” Abdul on the judges’ panel, and last year’s newcomer to the show, Kara DioGuardi gets all flushed whenever contestant Casey James performs. He will w
in the votes of millions of females during the competition…oh yeah, and he can sing also. I’ll be the first to admit that even I think the guy is good looking…not a judgment I normally make with males. If there is a downside, it would be that at this point in the competition the show is on for an unwieldy five hours per week. I still encourage you to give it a chance from here on out…I can’t imagine that the show wouldn’t melt even the coldest of hearts.Of course anyone who has even remotely known me over the course of my life knows that one of my greatest joys in life is following the Minnesota Twins. You may want to reserve a spot on the bandwagon this year. They are going to be HOT! If, that is, they can find the new Target Field under all that snow by April. They have plugged a couple of holes in the lineup this year, and I’m excited that with spring training gearing up, I get Twins news EVERY DAY in the Minneapolis Star Tribune.
My tinglyness is nearly maxed out by the fact that coming up the first weekend of March is the annual Wilmes Family Board Game weekend in the Cities. Tune in next week to learn more, as this year’s event has an exciting twist…
I want to thank all the people who responded to last week’s blog about being happy by blog post, Facebook and email. Who knew there would be that many of you out there that are as passionate about the subject as I am…
Lending even MORE credence to my plea to spread happiness were a couple of guests on Minnesota Public Radio on Wednesday. Interviewed were Nicholas A. Christakis and James H. Fowler, authors of “Connected.” The book goes into great detail about how contagious an individual’s mood can be. One happy person can affect an entire network of friends and family in a positive way, just by being happy. One sad and depressing person can pull an entire household and environs in the other direction. Happiness breeds happiness people! Go out and infect someone this week!
And what the heck…do it without a coat!!!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
I’m no Bobby McFerrin, but…
I am happy that Paula Abdul is no long on “American Idol.”
There. That was easy. Within about five seconds of my asking myself, “why should I be happy?” I came up with a great reason. One of my favorite shows (scoff if you must, “American Idol” has all the excitement and emotion you could reasonably expect in a reality show) no longer makes me sit through long and incoherent critiques of burgeoning musicians twice a week from January through April by Ms. Abdul.
Happiness…it is all I am asking for the remainder of my days.
Happiness.
Happiness seems to be more elusive than I would have imagined. As I’ve mentioned, I spend some time on Facebook, and a few hundred people’s random thoughts scrolling through my “live feed.”
So many seem to be unhappy every day of his or her life.
I am happy that I was not born in Haiti.
I have people who are close to me who are unhappy way too much. I go on ad nauseam about how an unhappy minute is a wasted minute.
Everyone has adversity in his or her life. It is how quickly you shake it off and move on that can be the deal-breaker on living an awesome life. Of course, the older a person gets, the more that person thinks about those things. I can’t waste my life on being unhappy. Every time I see an “I hate my life” post, I fight the urge to intervene…despite the fact that it is probably none of my business.
I am happy that Minnesota downhill skiing Olympian Lindsey Vonn posed in a swimsuit for Sports Illustrated.
I always preach that you can’t count on your friends or your family or your hair stylist or your cat (well, maybe your cat) for your own happiness. You can only count on yourself. Your day…or week…or life…is what you make of it.
Some days are diamonds and some days are horse manure. You can’t change that. Sometimes you have to dig through a little horse manure before you can find that diamond…and unfortunately, more often than not, you’ll never find the diamond.
If you expend much of your energy on making yourself happy, what you get from others is just gravy, baby.
I am happy when I think about gravy.
I haven’t perfected my theory yet. I still let people bring me down once in awhile, but I do my best to fix the problem quickly and move on. We’ve all had people try to steal our happiness at some point in our lives. Sometimes it is intentional and life-changing…won’t mention any names…but usually it is unintentional, and we tend to make it a bigger deal than it really is. Sometimes people leave us for reasons we don’t understand, and sometimes people are taken from us before their time, for reasons we don’t understand.
I am happy I don’t have cancer.
Unhappiness seems to strike the young and the old more readily. Everything in many a young person’s life is played out with steep mountains and deep valleys. OMG!!! I THINK HE LIKES ME! OMG!!! MY HEART IS BROKEN!!! I HATE MY LIFE!!! WHY IS MILEY CYRUS SUCH A SLUT???!!! I HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL TOMORROW!!! I HATE THAT SCHOOL IS CLOSED AGAIN TOMORROW…WHY DOES IT ALWAYS HAVE TO SNOW!!! OMG TAYLOR LAUTNER IS CUTE!!!
Of course old people’s version of this would be something like, “get off my lawn you rotten kids!...” or “I ordered these eggs over easy!!!” or “Obama is a Nazi.”
I am happy with the feeling I get when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I’m sure I’ve had my drama queen moments in my life, but I’m doing my best to curtail my future unhappiness. I refuse to grow into an unhappy old man…and if that annoys some of you…I’m not sorry.
Need a dose of happiness right now? Here, for those of you old enough to have seen the movie “The Jerk,” I’d like to remind you of one of my favorite movie quotes…
Well I'm gonna go then. And I don't need any of this. I don't need this stuff, and I don't need you. I don't need anything except this.
And that's it and that's the only thing I need, is this. I don't
need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle ball game and that's all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball game. And this lamp. The ashtray, this paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need. And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing, not one - I need this. The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And this. And that's all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair.
And I don't need one other thing, except my dog.
Oh, I forgot to mention you have to picture Steve Martin saying this with his pants around his ankles.
Never saw the movie? Go to iTunes and download The Beatles’ “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.” If that bouncy little song doesn’t just naturally elevate your mood, then you should seek professional help.
It’s easy to make yourself happy.
Research says (yeah, like anyone is going to check my sources) that it actually takes less effort and is easier on your body to be happy. It even has healing powers. Look at me…I’m proof that laughter keeps you healthy! (Don’t tell Aetna I said that.)
We’re in times when it seems like the entire country is angry and pointing fingers and shouting.
Dial it down a couple of notches for Heaven’s sake.
I am happy there is a Charlize Theron…and you would be too if you just saw the picture that came up when I Googled her name to make sure it was spelled correctly.
If you promise to be a little nicer to everyone in the future, I won’t print the words to “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” here…although sorry I just put the song in your head.
Over half my life is most certainly gone, and by golly I plan on making the best of what’s left.
And all I need is a daily dose of happiness…oh, and well, I need my remote control.
But that’s all I need… :)
There. That was easy. Within about five seconds of my asking myself, “why should I be happy?” I came up with a great reason. One of my favorite shows (scoff if you must, “American Idol” has all the excitement and emotion you could reasonably expect in a reality show) no longer makes me sit through long and incoherent critiques of burgeoning musicians twice a week from January through April by Ms. Abdul.
Happiness…it is all I am asking for the remainder of my days.
Happiness.
Happiness seems to be more elusive than I would have imagined. As I’ve mentioned, I spend some time on Facebook, and a few hundred people’s random thoughts scrolling through my “live feed.”
So many seem to be unhappy every day of his or her life.
I am happy that I was not born in Haiti.
I have people who are close to me who are unhappy way too much. I go on ad nauseam about how an unhappy minute is a wasted minute.
Everyone has adversity in his or her life. It is how quickly you shake it off and move on that can be the deal-breaker on living an awesome life. Of course, the older a person gets, the more that person thinks about those things. I can’t waste my life on being unhappy. Every time I see an “I hate my life” post, I fight the urge to intervene…despite the fact that it is probably none of my business.
I am happy that Minnesota downhill skiing Olympian Lindsey Vonn posed in a swimsuit for Sports Illustrated.
I always preach that you can’t count on your friends or your family or your hair stylist or your cat (well, maybe your cat) for your own happiness. You can only count on yourself. Your day…or week…or life…is what you make of it.
Some days are diamonds and some days are horse manure. You can’t change that. Sometimes you have to dig through a little horse manure before you can find that diamond…and unfortunately, more often than not, you’ll never find the diamond.
If you expend much of your energy on making yourself happy, what you get from others is just gravy, baby.
I am happy when I think about gravy.
I haven’t perfected my theory yet. I still let people bring me down once in awhile, but I do my best to fix the problem quickly and move on. We’ve all had people try to steal our happiness at some point in our lives. Sometimes it is intentional and life-changing…won’t mention any names…but usually it is unintentional, and we tend to make it a bigger deal than it really is. Sometimes people leave us for reasons we don’t understand, and sometimes people are taken from us before their time, for reasons we don’t understand.
I am happy I don’t have cancer.
Unhappiness seems to strike the young and the old more readily. Everything in many a young person’s life is played out with steep mountains and deep valleys. OMG!!! I THINK HE LIKES ME! OMG!!! MY HEART IS BROKEN!!! I HATE MY LIFE!!! WHY IS MILEY CYRUS SUCH A SLUT???!!! I HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL TOMORROW!!! I HATE THAT SCHOOL IS CLOSED AGAIN TOMORROW…WHY DOES IT ALWAYS HAVE TO SNOW!!! OMG TAYLOR LAUTNER IS CUTE!!!
Of course old people’s version of this would be something like, “get off my lawn you rotten kids!...” or “I ordered these eggs over easy!!!” or “Obama is a Nazi.”
I am happy with the feeling I get when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I’m sure I’ve had my drama queen moments in my life, but I’m doing my best to curtail my future unhappiness. I refuse to grow into an unhappy old man…and if that annoys some of you…I’m not sorry.
Need a dose of happiness right now? Here, for those of you old enough to have seen the movie “The Jerk,” I’d like to remind you of one of my favorite movie quotes…
Well I'm gonna go then. And I don't need any of this. I don't need this stuff, and I don't need you. I don't need anything except this.
And that's it and that's the only thing I need, is this. I don't
need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle ball game and that's all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball game. And this lamp. The ashtray, this paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need. And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing, not one - I need this. The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And this. And that's all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair.And I don't need one other thing, except my dog.
Oh, I forgot to mention you have to picture Steve Martin saying this with his pants around his ankles.
Never saw the movie? Go to iTunes and download The Beatles’ “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.” If that bouncy little song doesn’t just naturally elevate your mood, then you should seek professional help.
It’s easy to make yourself happy.
Research says (yeah, like anyone is going to check my sources) that it actually takes less effort and is easier on your body to be happy. It even has healing powers. Look at me…I’m proof that laughter keeps you healthy! (Don’t tell Aetna I said that.)
We’re in times when it seems like the entire country is angry and pointing fingers and shouting.
Dial it down a couple of notches for Heaven’s sake.
I am happy there is a Charlize Theron…and you would be too if you just saw the picture that came up when I Googled her name to make sure it was spelled correctly.
If you promise to be a little nicer to everyone in the future, I won’t print the words to “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” here…although sorry I just put the song in your head.
Over half my life is most certainly gone, and by golly I plan on making the best of what’s left.
And all I need is a daily dose of happiness…oh, and well, I need my remote control.
But that’s all I need… :)
Thursday, February 11, 2010
What are you looking here for?
You know what? If you are 52 years old and you don’t feel like doing your homework, you shouldn’t have to, right?
Right.
With that, I give you my Top Ten Reasons I’m Not Doing A Blog This Week…
10. I’m having a hard time dealing with the fact “Glee” won’t be back on the air until April.
9. Spending all my time looking for the perfect Valentine’s gift for the love of my life. You wouldn’t believe how many kitty toys there are out there!
8. Frankly, I’m still a bit woozy, and more than a little star struck after watching Sarah Palin’s teleprompter-free Tea Party speech.
7. Hello! Hollywood week on American Idol!!!!!!
6. Just never seem to have enough time to read my Tyler Tribute.
5. Wanted to do a blog on my cat, but didn’t want to give Noelle an opportunity to make fun of me.
4. It’s my annual “try-to-suck-all-the-Dorito-crumbs-out-of-my-computer-keyboard” week.
3. I tweaked a tendon on my “P” finger.
2. Can’t stop laughing when I use the term “P” finger.
And the number one Top Ten Reason I’m Not Doing A Blog This Week…
1. Spend all my time online trying to find Lady Gaga’s dress from the Grammy’s for Kathy.
Right.
With that, I give you my Top Ten Reasons I’m Not Doing A Blog This Week…
10. I’m having a hard time dealing with the fact “Glee” won’t be back on the air until April.
9. Spending all my time looking for the perfect Valentine’s gift for the love of my life. You wouldn’t believe how many kitty toys there are out there!
8. Frankly, I’m still a bit woozy, and more than a little star struck after watching Sarah Palin’s teleprompter-free Tea Party speech.
7. Hello! Hollywood week on American Idol!!!!!!
6. Just never seem to have enough time to read my Tyler Tribute.
5. Wanted to do a blog on my cat, but didn’t want to give Noelle an opportunity to make fun of me.
4. It’s my annual “try-to-suck-all-the-Dorito-crumbs-out-of-my-computer-keyboard” week.
3. I tweaked a tendon on my “P” finger.
2. Can’t stop laughing when I use the term “P” finger.
And the number one Top Ten Reason I’m Not Doing A Blog This Week…
1. Spend all my time online trying to find Lady Gaga’s dress from the Grammy’s for Kathy.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Join us, we’re waiting for you…
Any of you who have read this claptrap over the past few years could have surmised that I have an addiction to
A.) Movies
B.) Television
C.) Gadgets
D.) Computers
E.) All of the above
Unfortunately, I have Best Buy tastes on a thrift store budget.
I still manage to get by, however. I communicate with others on my cell phone. I spend my day at the office working on a computer…okay, actually two computers. I listen to my iPod on the way home, where I turn on my computer and check my email before allowing my Facebook buddies to entertain me. I take a short supper break before returning to my home office. Some evenings I have photography or video work to do. If not, I will park my ample fanny (um, hi Jeff) in front of my computer anyway, and while Kathy is watching something on Bravo or Lifetime in another area of the house, I watch a movie or fire up Hulu.com and try to get caught up on The Daily Show or sometimes just make sure my computers are updated with virus protection or the hard drives are healthy.
Finally, before bed I go “old school” and do some reading, then I roll over to sleep…with the TV on, of course.
If I weren’t expected to contribute to the financial health of our household, I really would seldom have a reason to leave the house.
I have a freezer full of ground beef, after all.
Human interaction? I have too much already. Sometimes people call me while I’m entertaining myself on my laptop!
I have a wife and daughter with whom to interact. When they get tired of interacting with me, I always have my online community. Facebook is perfect for me. I don’t have to speak to anyone in person, I can keep in touch daily with friends, past and present, old and young. I highly recommend it to everyone. Many who have told me they didn’t have any desire to join Facebook over the past years, enjoy it more than he or she expected when they finally give in. You can participate as much or little as you want. You can share as much or little as you want.
I am able to enjoy news stories or videos recommended to me by my friends, advertise for the Opera House and upload videos and photos to share with my family and friends, and enjoy the same uploaded by them. I can communicate with others, investing a total of about 20 seconds, and then move on. No 15-minute conversations for me. If they reply to my communication within a week or two, that is no problem. If they ignore me, that is fine also.
Sometimes it is just fun to post something controversial, and watch people post comments and argue about it for a few hours.
There are friends from whom I have never seen a post, and there are friends who seemingly post something every five minutes. I probably ignore 98% of the posts that come up on my live feed. I can’t believe there are a million Facebook groups out there, and some of you feel the need to join them all. Groups like “If 1 Million People Join This Group, Taylor Swift Will Stop Singing.” Yeah right.
I have my favorite posters among my friends...usually people who make me laugh or keep me informed. You know who you are.
Since it is already too late to turn back on one of the least interesting blogs I’ve ever composed, I’ll give you a little taste of the gripping stuff you can find on FB…
Direct from my site…(drum roll)
Here are 25 random things about Mark:
1. I created the "Rhumba."
2. Sometimes I wake up at night and think the monkey from the Taco Bell commercials is watching me sleep.
3. The keys to my backyard shed are in the upper left drawer of my computer desk.
4. When nobody is around I put butter on my pizza.
5. I love butter.
6. I'm forced to watch TV at home on a 26" screen.
7. Sometimes when I burp, other stuff comes up with it.
8. I am the (illegitimate) child of Red Skelton and Totie Fields.
9. I watched The View once when I was in the hospital.
10. My middle name is Alice.
11. Sometimes when I do the moonwalk on carpet, my socks come off.
12. I think Iowa is creepy.
13. When I was very young, I didn't know that the "k" in unknown is silent.
14. For some reason "Kokomo" is going through my head right now.
15. In kindergarten I was in love with Valerie Gravley.
16. When I was a senior, I was in love with Valerie Gravley.
17. I watched "Ellen" once when I was in the hospital.
18. I just got a new cell phone.
19. I don't believe I have ever "skipped" while walking.
20. For a couple of weeks in 1977 I had boogie fever.
21. I, too, thought Abe Vigoda was dead.
22. I like grape jelly and garlic bologna sandwiches.
23. The tabloids have been trying for years to link me with Madonna.
24. I am a Grobanite.
25. I used to just assume Hannah Montana was Joe Montana's daughter.
How can you resist? Come join us on Facebook. If you haven’t already had just about enough of my non-stop drivel, look me up when you get there for hours of “entertainment.”
We’re waiting for you…
A.) Movies
B.) Television
C.) Gadgets
D.) Computers
E.) All of the above
Unfortunately, I have Best Buy tastes on a thrift store budget.
I still manage to get by, however. I communicate with others on my cell phone. I spend my day at the office working on a computer…okay, actually two computers. I listen to my iPod on the way home, where I turn on my computer and check my email before allowing my Facebook buddies to entertain me. I take a short supper break before returning to my home office. Some evenings I have photography or video work to do. If not, I will park my ample fanny (um, hi Jeff) in front of my computer anyway, and while Kathy is watching something on Bravo or Lifetime in another area of the house, I watch a movie or fire up Hulu.com and try to get caught up on The Daily Show or sometimes just make sure my computers are updated with virus protection or the hard drives are healthy.
Finally, before bed I go “old school” and do some reading, then I roll over to sleep…with the TV on, of course.
If I weren’t expected to contribute to the financial health of our household, I really would seldom have a reason to leave the house.
I have a freezer full of ground beef, after all.
Human interaction? I have too much already. Sometimes people call me while I’m entertaining myself on my laptop!
I have a wife and daughter with whom to interact. When they get tired of interacting with me, I always have my online community. Facebook is perfect for me. I don’t have to speak to anyone in person, I can keep in touch daily with friends, past and present, old and young. I highly recommend it to everyone. Many who have told me they didn’t have any desire to join Facebook over the past years, enjoy it more than he or she expected when they finally give in. You can participate as much or little as you want. You can share as much or little as you want.
I am able to enjoy news stories or videos recommended to me by my friends, advertise for the Opera House and upload videos and photos to share with my family and friends, and enjoy the same uploaded by them. I can communicate with others, investing a total of about 20 seconds, and then move on. No 15-minute conversations for me. If they reply to my communication within a week or two, that is no problem. If they ignore me, that is fine also.
Sometimes it is just fun to post something controversial, and watch people post comments and argue about it for a few hours.
There are friends from whom I have never seen a post, and there are friends who seemingly post something every five minutes. I probably ignore 98% of the posts that come up on my live feed. I can’t believe there are a million Facebook groups out there, and some of you feel the need to join them all. Groups like “If 1 Million People Join This Group, Taylor Swift Will Stop Singing.” Yeah right.
I have my favorite posters among my friends...usually people who make me laugh or keep me informed. You know who you are.
Since it is already too late to turn back on one of the least interesting blogs I’ve ever composed, I’ll give you a little taste of the gripping stuff you can find on FB…
Direct from my site…(drum roll)
Here are 25 random things about Mark:
1. I created the "Rhumba."
2. Sometimes I wake up at night and think the monkey from the Taco Bell commercials is watching me sleep.
3. The keys to my backyard shed are in the upper left drawer of my computer desk.
4. When nobody is around I put butter on my pizza.
5. I love butter.
6. I'm forced to watch TV at home on a 26" screen.
7. Sometimes when I burp, other stuff comes up with it.
8. I am the (illegitimate) child of Red Skelton and Totie Fields.
9. I watched The View once when I was in the hospital.
10. My middle name is Alice.
11. Sometimes when I do the moonwalk on carpet, my socks come off.
12. I think Iowa is creepy.
13. When I was very young, I didn't know that the "k" in unknown is silent.
14. For some reason "Kokomo" is going through my head right now.
15. In kindergarten I was in love with Valerie Gravley.
16. When I was a senior, I was in love with Valerie Gravley.
17. I watched "Ellen" once when I was in the hospital.
18. I just got a new cell phone.
19. I don't believe I have ever "skipped" while walking.
20. For a couple of weeks in 1977 I had boogie fever.
21. I, too, thought Abe Vigoda was dead.
22. I like grape jelly and garlic bologna sandwiches.
23. The tabloids have been trying for years to link me with Madonna.
24. I am a Grobanite.
25. I used to just assume Hannah Montana was Joe Montana's daughter.
How can you resist? Come join us on Facebook. If you haven’t already had just about enough of my non-stop drivel, look me up when you get there for hours of “entertainment.”
We’re waiting for you…
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Nothing a little birthday pizza won’t fix…
For those of you who may have stumbled on last week’s blog…no, I didn’t hear a thing from Conan O’Brien on Tuesday. Apparently he has no problem keeping all that money for himself. I did, however, have a birthday that I will remember for many years. For the first time in 52 birthdays, I rang in my birthday stranded in a cornfield south of Chandler. As a matter of fact, I spent the first 10 hours of my 52nd birthday stranded in a cornfield south of Chandler.
Thankfully, that cornfield houses the building I’ve worked in since last March, so I was warm. Not wanting to look like a girlie-man, I waffled on whether or not to head home early with the high winds and blowing and drifting snow on Monday morning. I waffled a bit too long though, and ended up getting stranded at the office until 10:00 AM on Tuesday...my birthday.
Working in a building that lies in the middle of a cornfield isn’t normally a big issue. There are drawbacks. The wind seems as though it never stops and it always seems to run about 10 miles per hour higher than any other location at which my time is spent. Considering I’m working in the wind industry and we are located at a site with 137 turbines, my suspicions are probably valid.
It gets a bit more difficult, however, in bad weather. Eventually it gets to a point where nobody is able to get in or out of our location. So if all you brought to work were the clothes you are wearing, then all you will have until you leave are the clothes you are wearing. You can’t run across the street to order take-out.
As it turned out, I waited too long, and by the time I thought it was probably time to make a run for it to get back to Tyler, the DOT closed all the highways. It seemed that I would be at the office until further notice. Fortunately for the 10-12 of us who were going to be stranded, the last person who made it in on Monday brought four large pizzas.
All meat…my favorite.
Our building is always manned 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Usually, however, we let people go home every 12 hours or so…if they can get there.
As long as I was stuck there anyway, I put in a 12-hour day (which would be a short day if I were still working in the newspaper business) before clocking out. I had delusions for awhile that the wind would stop blowing and I would head home before midnight, but the wind didn’t subside until early Tuesday. Full of pizza and wielding a bag of microwave popcorn, I settled into the conference room and a few of us enjoyed watching movies until sometime after midnight.
Yes, I got to follow up my favorite pizza with my favorite pastime while munching on my favorite snack. Things could have been worse.
Unfortunately things did get worse, as soon as I attempted to get some sleep. Unlike the “Center for Wind Energy,” or whatever it is called, up by Hendricks, our building isn’t equipped with four hotel rooms. We have two choices for sleeping…office chair or tile floor.
I tried both, without much success with either. My attempt to sleep in my office chair at about 1:30 AM failed after about two hours. I then hit the floor, lying on a thin fleece blanket and using my coat as a pillow. This lasted for a half hour before I gave up. The next half hour I spent trying to get up off the floor with my gimpy knee. Picture a manatee attempting to do ballet…it wasn’t pretty.
When I finally was able to scale the side of a desk and plop back into my office chair it was 4:00. I remember checking my cell phone clock at 4:30, and don’t remember much after that until my cell phone alarm rang at 5:45 AM.
I swiped my card through the time clock at 6:00 AM and began another work day. Happy Birthday to me.
The view outside after sunrise was remarkable. It looked like one of those documentaries on Antarctica that they show on The Learning Channel…with the exception of a few protrusions that appeared to be vehicles rising out of the snow banks.
Finally, by 10:00, enough of the snow in the parking lot was removed so that I could snake my way back to County Highway 1, and make my way home.
Once I got home, I took a quick tour of my driveway with my snow blower, had a little lunch, and me and Joe the Cat headed to the bedroom for what we thought was going to be a long winter’s nap. Over the next three hours, I was reminded of how much our phone rings while we are at work during the day. At about 3:30 I gave up, leaving Joe the Snooze to sleep by himself under the blankets.
I somehow stayed awake through our previously scheduled birthday dinner and a movie on Tuesday night, and was back in bed by 11:00.
I was still apparently recuperating this morning (Thursday), as I overslept by about 45 minutes.
After being quite vocal in the past about my affinity for winter weather, I’m guessing there will be some of you out there who will enjoy the fact that I spent part of my birthday in a cornfield. Go ahead, I probably have it coming.
A little piece of advice, though, if any of you find yourself in a similar position…
Pizza and movies makes everything better.
Even in a cornfield in Antarctica…
Thankfully, that cornfield houses the building I’ve worked in since last March, so I was warm. Not wanting to look like a girlie-man, I waffled on whether or not to head home early with the high winds and blowing and drifting snow on Monday morning. I waffled a bit too long though, and ended up getting stranded at the office until 10:00 AM on Tuesday...my birthday.
Working in a building that lies in the middle of a cornfield isn’t normally a big issue. There are drawbacks. The wind seems as though it never stops and it always seems to run about 10 miles per hour higher than any other location at which my time is spent. Considering I’m working in the wind industry and we are located at a site with 137 turbines, my suspicions are probably valid.
It gets a bit more difficult, however, in bad weather. Eventually it gets to a point where nobody is able to get in or out of our location. So if all you brought to work were the clothes you are wearing, then all you will have until you leave are the clothes you are wearing. You can’t run across the street to order take-out.
As it turned out, I waited too long, and by the time I thought it was probably time to make a run for it to get back to Tyler, the DOT closed all the highways. It seemed that I would be at the office until further notice. Fortunately for the 10-12 of us who were going to be stranded, the last person who made it in on Monday brought four large pizzas.
All meat…my favorite.
Our building is always manned 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Usually, however, we let people go home every 12 hours or so…if they can get there.
As long as I was stuck there anyway, I put in a 12-hour day (which would be a short day if I were still working in the newspaper business) before clocking out. I had delusions for awhile that the wind would stop blowing and I would head home before midnight, but the wind didn’t subside until early Tuesday. Full of pizza and wielding a bag of microwave popcorn, I settled into the conference room and a few of us enjoyed watching movies until sometime after midnight.
Yes, I got to follow up my favorite pizza with my favorite pastime while munching on my favorite snack. Things could have been worse.
Unfortunately things did get worse, as soon as I attempted to get some sleep. Unlike the “Center for Wind Energy,” or whatever it is called, up by Hendricks, our building isn’t equipped with four hotel rooms. We have two choices for sleeping…office chair or tile floor.
I tried both, without much success with either. My attempt to sleep in my office chair at about 1:30 AM failed after about two hours. I then hit the floor, lying on a thin fleece blanket and using my coat as a pillow. This lasted for a half hour before I gave up. The next half hour I spent trying to get up off the floor with my gimpy knee. Picture a manatee attempting to do ballet…it wasn’t pretty.
When I finally was able to scale the side of a desk and plop back into my office chair it was 4:00. I remember checking my cell phone clock at 4:30, and don’t remember much after that until my cell phone alarm rang at 5:45 AM.
I swiped my card through the time clock at 6:00 AM and began another work day. Happy Birthday to me.
The view outside after sunrise was remarkable. It looked like one of those documentaries on Antarctica that they show on The Learning Channel…with the exception of a few protrusions that appeared to be vehicles rising out of the snow banks.
Finally, by 10:00, enough of the snow in the parking lot was removed so that I could snake my way back to County Highway 1, and make my way home.
Once I got home, I took a quick tour of my driveway with my snow blower, had a little lunch, and me and Joe the Cat headed to the bedroom for what we thought was going to be a long winter’s nap. Over the next three hours, I was reminded of how much our phone rings while we are at work during the day. At about 3:30 I gave up, leaving Joe the Snooze to sleep by himself under the blankets.
I somehow stayed awake through our previously scheduled birthday dinner and a movie on Tuesday night, and was back in bed by 11:00.
I was still apparently recuperating this morning (Thursday), as I overslept by about 45 minutes.
After being quite vocal in the past about my affinity for winter weather, I’m guessing there will be some of you out there who will enjoy the fact that I spent part of my birthday in a cornfield. Go ahead, I probably have it coming.
A little piece of advice, though, if any of you find yourself in a similar position…
Pizza and movies makes everything better.
Even in a cornfield in Antarctica…
Thursday, January 21, 2010
A half century, plus two...
Here we are again. It is hard to believe it is already time for my annual birthday blog. It seems like it was only yesterday that I was whining about turning 40. What a silly young man I was… Hopefully, eight years from now I’ll be looking back and chuckling at how I was whining about turning 52 back in 2010.
Usually, after I whine about how old I am, I encourage people to send me gifts. This has never worked out so well, but maybe this year Conan O’Brien will stumble across my blog and be motivated to send me a little something with the extra cash he has lying around.
Sorry, back to whining about my age…
Reading the Minneapolis Star-Tribune this week, I was shocked to read that it has be 33 YEARS SINCE THE VIKINGS WERE IN A SUPER BOWL!!! That cannot possibly be. I watched that game. And to make matters worse, I remember watching the three they participated in before that one!!!!!
All the things I struggle to remember in my life, and I can't seem to shake the memory of those heartaches.
Most of the items in my growing catalog of age-related issues, however, are exacerbated by the amount of weight I carry. Since an October Camden State Park photo shoot I’ve been hobbling around on a sore knee. Finally, in the past few days I’ve been able to navigate without the cane. I’ve been probably 90% cane-free. The diagnosis was a Baker’s cyst—a small balloon of joint gunk leakage on the back side of my knee.
Of course Dr. Snow has a lot bigger words he uses when describing it.
The bottom line is that a cortisone-ish cocktail injected into the cyst a month ago has helped relieve the pain significantly, which in turn should enable me to return soon to my nightly jazzercise sessions. (Wow...Microsoft Word, as I type this, actually recognizes “jazzercise” as a word.)
I also require way too many drugs to keep me alive. Considering the number of trips I make to the back end of Thrifty White Drug in Tyler, you would think I would be burning calories faster than I can consume them.
I guess not.
I can not, however, complain with too much conviction. I have a very good life. I am surrounded by a great family and many very loyal friends (albeit not so loyal that I get birthday gifts from them annually), as well as a job with a company that treats me quite well.
I’m thankful also that I don’t recall ever walking around with my cap on sideways and my pants on the ground…an affliction of the very young and, I would assume, the very old. For those of you who don’t get the “pants on the ground reference,” ask your kids about it…or at the very least, ask someone as young as me.
I am also experiencing elevated levels of joy over the current football season…but I won’t tempt fate by discussing it until after Sunday night.
Just when I think I can’t possibly have any more joy in my life, I find out I can get 10% off hotel rooms with my AARP card.
Yeah, my life is pretty good despite the fact that it is flying by at a break-neck pace. Before I know it, I’ll be bragging about how good my life is at 82—probably to my 92-year-old sister.
In the meantime, no matter how good life is for me at 52, there’s always room for more bliss…so Conan, if you are reading, I like movies and music. A simple gift card would be a great place to start. (PO Box 89, Tyler, MN 56178)
Usually, after I whine about how old I am, I encourage people to send me gifts. This has never worked out so well, but maybe this year Conan O’Brien will stumble across my blog and be motivated to send me a little something with the extra cash he has lying around.
Sorry, back to whining about my age…
Reading the Minneapolis Star-Tribune this week, I was shocked to read that it has be 33 YEARS SINCE THE VIKINGS WERE IN A SUPER BOWL!!! That cannot possibly be. I watched that game. And to make matters worse, I remember watching the three they participated in before that one!!!!!
All the things I struggle to remember in my life, and I can't seem to shake the memory of those heartaches.
Most of the items in my growing catalog of age-related issues, however, are exacerbated by the amount of weight I carry. Since an October Camden State Park photo shoot I’ve been hobbling around on a sore knee. Finally, in the past few days I’ve been able to navigate without the cane. I’ve been probably 90% cane-free. The diagnosis was a Baker’s cyst—a small balloon of joint gunk leakage on the back side of my knee.
Of course Dr. Snow has a lot bigger words he uses when describing it.
The bottom line is that a cortisone-ish cocktail injected into the cyst a month ago has helped relieve the pain significantly, which in turn should enable me to return soon to my nightly jazzercise sessions. (Wow...Microsoft Word, as I type this, actually recognizes “jazzercise” as a word.)
I also require way too many drugs to keep me alive. Considering the number of trips I make to the back end of Thrifty White Drug in Tyler, you would think I would be burning calories faster than I can consume them.
I guess not.
I can not, however, complain with too much conviction. I have a very good life. I am surrounded by a great family and many very loyal friends (albeit not so loyal that I get birthday gifts from them annually), as well as a job with a company that treats me quite well.
I’m thankful also that I don’t recall ever walking around with my cap on sideways and my pants on the ground…an affliction of the very young and, I would assume, the very old. For those of you who don’t get the “pants on the ground reference,” ask your kids about it…or at the very least, ask someone as young as me.
I am also experiencing elevated levels of joy over the current football season…but I won’t tempt fate by discussing it until after Sunday night.
Just when I think I can’t possibly have any more joy in my life, I find out I can get 10% off hotel rooms with my AARP card.
Yeah, my life is pretty good despite the fact that it is flying by at a break-neck pace. Before I know it, I’ll be bragging about how good my life is at 82—probably to my 92-year-old sister.
In the meantime, no matter how good life is for me at 52, there’s always room for more bliss…so Conan, if you are reading, I like movies and music. A simple gift card would be a great place to start. (PO Box 89, Tyler, MN 56178)
Friday, January 15, 2010
Not bored...
Finally, in the fifth decade of my life, I am learning to appreciate the month of January. I used to think that the month was worthless, and other than one day at the end of the month when I would get presents each year just for turning a year older, the month could have just as well be stricken from the calendar. Half way through January, 2010, however, I’ve discovered an appreciation for the coldest month.
January still has its issues. Most noticeable is the fact that it has turned my 45-minute commute to the office into a one-hour drive, minimum. Weather drawback #2 would be a cursed wind chill that at times can suck the air right out of you.
Then there is the reality that the excitement of the holidays have passed, coupled with the arrival of the December credit card bill. This can be survived also, but it requires making sure Kathy (a.k.a. Oh-My-God-We-Are-Destitute-Nelly) is sitting down when she opens the MasterCard bill.
Here in 2010, however, I’ve learned to appreciate the post-holiday lull, and now that I’m no longer in the newspaper business, I even get to stay home in the evenings. At the height of the craziness, I would have my choice of 18 basketball games in which a Lincoln County basketball team was participating, as well as an assortment of school board and city council meetings.
Now, however, I only head out in the evenings when it is MY choice, and that is usually only when the temperature is above 20.
The rat race has slowed to a crawl.
Being an active Facebook participant, I am always amused by the number of “I’m bored” posts by young people on my live feed. These posts appear daily, but increase exponentially on, say, the second consecutive snow day off from school. I distinctly remember school snow days from 40 years ago. There was the anticipation of hearing the WCCO announcer giving the list of school closings and the agony of listening through the alphabetical listings before finally hearing the magical words, “Russell, two hours late.” One particular January…I believe it was either 1968 or 1969…this announcement was always followed with “Russell, closed.” That year we might have made it to school three or four days in January, and they sent us home early a couple of THOSE days.
I don’t recall ever, during any of those many snow days, experiencing boredom. I was usually too excited about the prospects for the day to even permit myself to go back to sleep.
There were games to play, puzzles to assemble and usually a round or two of Canasta or Scrabble with Mom. Once the snow and wind subsided, there was a natural amusement park outside our door. There were a host of activities to keep a kid busy, from snow forts to snowmen, but nothing more fun than grabbing a sled and heading across the road from our house to the giant hill in Mr. Hively’s field. Ten minutes of climbing to the top of what seemed like a mountain would be rewarded with the fastest trip you could imagine on a plastic “flying saucer”…even if nine times out of ten you found yourself upside down at the bottom of the hill.
Midday, we would trudge back in and lay our socks and mittens on top of the heater (where these items would acquire a stinky, burnt smell), fill up with a hot meal and then head out for round two in the afternoon, smelling of burnt, slightly wet yarn.
We hardly noticed the cold, and if we were lucky, the red in our cheeks might have faded by the time we crawled into bed, where we would drift off to sleep hoping that WCCO would once again make our school famous the next morning.
Bored? It wasn’t part of the lexicon.
When all those other activities were exhausted, there was always reading. In those days I would read books about Fran Tarkenton or Bart Starr or Harmon Killebrew, but the choices were nearly unlimited, and today the choices are even greater. Kids! Open a freaking book!!!
Today, with the onset of middle age, I’ve realized that I can actually have too much fun lined up, and have had to scale back my magazine subscriptions from an unwieldy seven or eight to a more manageable three. This has freed up some of my precious reading time for catching up on my Stephen King addiction. Mr. King can write books faster than I can consume them. I have probably read around 35 of his novels and collections of short stories, but that still leaves me 10-12 books behind. Last week I was able to start “Wolves of the Calla,” which was written several years ago.
So, this year I am embracing the slower pace that January brings me…a pace that I am hoping lingers well into February.
You youngsters (look at me sounding like an old person), before your next “I’m bored” update, think about making a trip to your local library.
And starting today, I believe I have come up with the perfect daily status update for my Facebook page…
“Not bored.”
January still has its issues. Most noticeable is the fact that it has turned my 45-minute commute to the office into a one-hour drive, minimum. Weather drawback #2 would be a cursed wind chill that at times can suck the air right out of you.
Then there is the reality that the excitement of the holidays have passed, coupled with the arrival of the December credit card bill. This can be survived also, but it requires making sure Kathy (a.k.a. Oh-My-God-We-Are-Destitute-Nelly) is sitting down when she opens the MasterCard bill.
Here in 2010, however, I’ve learned to appreciate the post-holiday lull, and now that I’m no longer in the newspaper business, I even get to stay home in the evenings. At the height of the craziness, I would have my choice of 18 basketball games in which a Lincoln County basketball team was participating, as well as an assortment of school board and city council meetings.
Now, however, I only head out in the evenings when it is MY choice, and that is usually only when the temperature is above 20.
The rat race has slowed to a crawl.
Being an active Facebook participant, I am always amused by the number of “I’m bored” posts by young people on my live feed. These posts appear daily, but increase exponentially on, say, the second consecutive snow day off from school. I distinctly remember school snow days from 40 years ago. There was the anticipation of hearing the WCCO announcer giving the list of school closings and the agony of listening through the alphabetical listings before finally hearing the magical words, “Russell, two hours late.” One particular January…I believe it was either 1968 or 1969…this announcement was always followed with “Russell, closed.” That year we might have made it to school three or four days in January, and they sent us home early a couple of THOSE days.
I don’t recall ever, during any of those many snow days, experiencing boredom. I was usually too excited about the prospects for the day to even permit myself to go back to sleep.
There were games to play, puzzles to assemble and usually a round or two of Canasta or Scrabble with Mom. Once the snow and wind subsided, there was a natural amusement park outside our door. There were a host of activities to keep a kid busy, from snow forts to snowmen, but nothing more fun than grabbing a sled and heading across the road from our house to the giant hill in Mr. Hively’s field. Ten minutes of climbing to the top of what seemed like a mountain would be rewarded with the fastest trip you could imagine on a plastic “flying saucer”…even if nine times out of ten you found yourself upside down at the bottom of the hill.
Midday, we would trudge back in and lay our socks and mittens on top of the heater (where these items would acquire a stinky, burnt smell), fill up with a hot meal and then head out for round two in the afternoon, smelling of burnt, slightly wet yarn.
We hardly noticed the cold, and if we were lucky, the red in our cheeks might have faded by the time we crawled into bed, where we would drift off to sleep hoping that WCCO would once again make our school famous the next morning.
Bored? It wasn’t part of the lexicon.
When all those other activities were exhausted, there was always reading. In those days I would read books about Fran Tarkenton or Bart Starr or Harmon Killebrew, but the choices were nearly unlimited, and today the choices are even greater. Kids! Open a freaking book!!!
Today, with the onset of middle age, I’ve realized that I can actually have too much fun lined up, and have had to scale back my magazine subscriptions from an unwieldy seven or eight to a more manageable three. This has freed up some of my precious reading time for catching up on my Stephen King addiction. Mr. King can write books faster than I can consume them. I have probably read around 35 of his novels and collections of short stories, but that still leaves me 10-12 books behind. Last week I was able to start “Wolves of the Calla,” which was written several years ago.
So, this year I am embracing the slower pace that January brings me…a pace that I am hoping lingers well into February.
You youngsters (look at me sounding like an old person), before your next “I’m bored” update, think about making a trip to your local library.
And starting today, I believe I have come up with the perfect daily status update for my Facebook page…
“Not bored.”
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
You can count on it…
I know you’ve all been waiting for it, and just because I don’t work for a newspaper any more, doesn’t mean I can’t bring you my bold Predictions For 2010!!! OK, I’m no Amazing Kreskin, but that is not necessarily a bad thing. I actually went to www.amazingkreskin.com, just to see what HE was predicting for 2010. All I found was a blank blue page. If he was trying to connect with me telekinetically, I wasn’t receiving anything. This was just reinforcing what I’ve been telling Kathy for years…I can’t read minds.
The only other psychic I could think of was Jeanne Dixon: Psychic to the Stars, but I found out she died of cardiac arrest in 1997. Rumor has it her last words were, “whoa, I didn’t see that coming!”
So with no help from a real psychic, and without further ado, I give you my Ten Bold Predictions For The Coming Year.
Thank me in December…
1. Syndicated television program Entertainment Tonight will uncover shocking news about Michael Jackson’s death.
2. Tiger Woods will put away his putter and go back to playing golf.
3. Katie Couric will be granted another interview with Sarah Palin, during which Palin will admit she doesn’t really know what the term "going rouge" means, but she can split open an elk from top to bottom with one arm tied behind her back, reaffirming her credentials for a presidential run.
4. The Twins home opener at Target Field will be delayed two hours due to a winter weather advisory.
5. Governor Pawlenty will continue to make appearances throughout the country while not running for president.
6. Brett Favre will break a hip during the third quarter of the NFC Championship game, but will bark incredulously at Coach Childress on the sidelines when Chilly suggests Brett comes out of the game.
7. Fox News entertainer Glenn Beck will uncover a covert plan by the Obama administration to change the sky from blue to green, spurring an impromptu tea party on the Potomac.
8. The Minnesota Twins will win the World Series. (One of these years this prediction will actually be correct.)
9. It will be revealed that Paula Abdul’s defection from American Idol was actually predicted by Nostradomus.
10. Nobody will remember any of these predictions by March.
The only other psychic I could think of was Jeanne Dixon: Psychic to the Stars, but I found out she died of cardiac arrest in 1997. Rumor has it her last words were, “whoa, I didn’t see that coming!”
So with no help from a real psychic, and without further ado, I give you my Ten Bold Predictions For The Coming Year.
Thank me in December…
1. Syndicated television program Entertainment Tonight will uncover shocking news about Michael Jackson’s death.
2. Tiger Woods will put away his putter and go back to playing golf.
3. Katie Couric will be granted another interview with Sarah Palin, during which Palin will admit she doesn’t really know what the term "going rouge" means, but she can split open an elk from top to bottom with one arm tied behind her back, reaffirming her credentials for a presidential run.
4. The Twins home opener at Target Field will be delayed two hours due to a winter weather advisory.
5. Governor Pawlenty will continue to make appearances throughout the country while not running for president.
6. Brett Favre will break a hip during the third quarter of the NFC Championship game, but will bark incredulously at Coach Childress on the sidelines when Chilly suggests Brett comes out of the game.
7. Fox News entertainer Glenn Beck will uncover a covert plan by the Obama administration to change the sky from blue to green, spurring an impromptu tea party on the Potomac.
8. The Minnesota Twins will win the World Series. (One of these years this prediction will actually be correct.)
9. It will be revealed that Paula Abdul’s defection from American Idol was actually predicted by Nostradomus.
10. Nobody will remember any of these predictions by March.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
A Christmas too white…
Hello again. I hope all of you out there somewhat salvaged your Christmas holiday. Anyone who had anything scheduled for Christmas Eve through Sunday in the Upper Midwest had to have been affected by the monster storm that just kept dumping snow on us. It turned out to be one of the whitest Christmases of my life.
As I believe I mentioned in a recent blog, I’ve been fighting with an ailing leg over the past couple of months. I’ve had to resort to using a cane to get around town, eliciting catcalls of “old man” and “gimpy” from passersby. On the bright side, if these hecklers are standing close enough, I can whack them with my wooden appendage.
Unfortunately, having a bad wheel is exacerbated when it won’t stop snowing and scooping/snowblowing becomes an around-the-clock job.
That’s where my bossy little sister Darla comes in.
Mom and Darla arrived on Christmas Eve afternoon to join us at the church service and spend the night. Christmas with Kathy’s family scheduled for that evening had already been postponed and the Wilmes gathering scheduled for Christmas Day at the Senior Cente
r was in jeopardy.
Waking to piles of snow Christmas morning I found that somewhere over the years Darla got the idea that she is the boss of me (she isn’t) and commanded me to stay inside while her and Kathy cleared the front and back driveways and sidewalks of snow. I resisted at first, but I could see it might come to blows, and although I had a portable “whacker” with a rubber tip, I refrained from using it. I still have to sit through the story (now legend) that I used to hit her on the head with books when we were kids. I don’t want to be in the nursing home someday and hear how I used to whack her with my cane “back when we were middle-aged.”
So Mom and I watched through the window as they soon realized that shovels weren’t going to do the job, and they had to pull out the heavy artillery…the 20+-year-old Jacobsen snow blower.
A.K.A. “The Beast.”
They soon found out what I already knew. The Beast works best between April and October. The rest of the year, not so much.
It got them through about 85% of the blowing, however, and that was enough make room for any family members who may show up later in the day.
We ended up canceling the Senior Center and the decision was made to host the celebration for all who could make it to our house. This is now referred to by Joe, our cat, as “48 hours of hell.” He is still shaking off the after-effects.
We had a great time, although sorely missed the family members who couldn’t be with us. By Christmas night, sleeping arrangements included just about everything except the cat trees—and Joe thought people were sleeping a bit too close to them also.
By Saturday afternoon, local small engine repair dude Don Kuhn had my snow blower “purring like a kitten,” and I was able to widen out our paths once I was out from under the iron thumb of my sister.
Late Saturday afternoon we were able to gather with everyone who was able to make it from Kathy’s family, so the holiday wasn’t a total loss.
With a four-day New Year’s weekend approaching, I intend to spend my time NOT shoveling or snow blowing—my choice, not Darla’s.
If, however, she has the urge to call and tell me to kick back and watch some movies, who am I to argue?
As I believe I mentioned in a recent blog, I’ve been fighting with an ailing leg over the past couple of months. I’ve had to resort to using a cane to get around town, eliciting catcalls of “old man” and “gimpy” from passersby. On the bright side, if these hecklers are standing close enough, I can whack them with my wooden appendage.
Unfortunately, having a bad wheel is exacerbated when it won’t stop snowing and scooping/snowblowing becomes an around-the-clock job.
That’s where my bossy little sister Darla comes in.
Mom and Darla arrived on Christmas Eve afternoon to join us at the church service and spend the night. Christmas with Kathy’s family scheduled for that evening had already been postponed and the Wilmes gathering scheduled for Christmas Day at the Senior Cente
r was in jeopardy.Waking to piles of snow Christmas morning I found that somewhere over the years Darla got the idea that she is the boss of me (she isn’t) and commanded me to stay inside while her and Kathy cleared the front and back driveways and sidewalks of snow. I resisted at first, but I could see it might come to blows, and although I had a portable “whacker” with a rubber tip, I refrained from using it. I still have to sit through the story (now legend) that I used to hit her on the head with books when we were kids. I don’t want to be in the nursing home someday and hear how I used to whack her with my cane “back when we were middle-aged.”
So Mom and I watched through the window as they soon realized that shovels weren’t going to do the job, and they had to pull out the heavy artillery…the 20+-year-old Jacobsen snow blower.
A.K.A. “The Beast.”
They soon found out what I already knew. The Beast works best between April and October. The rest of the year, not so much.
It got them through about 85% of the blowing, however, and that was enough make room for any family members who may show up later in the day.
We ended up canceling the Senior Center and the decision was made to host the celebration for all who could make it to our house. This is now referred to by Joe, our cat, as “48 hours of hell.” He is still shaking off the after-effects.
We had a great time, although sorely missed the family members who couldn’t be with us. By Christmas night, sleeping arrangements included just about everything except the cat trees—and Joe thought people were sleeping a bit too close to them also.
By Saturday afternoon, local small engine repair dude Don Kuhn had my snow blower “purring like a kitten,” and I was able to widen out our paths once I was out from under the iron thumb of my sister.
Late Saturday afternoon we were able to gather with everyone who was able to make it from Kathy’s family, so the holiday wasn’t a total loss.
With a four-day New Year’s weekend approaching, I intend to spend my time NOT shoveling or snow blowing—my choice, not Darla’s.
If, however, she has the urge to call and tell me to kick back and watch some movies, who am I to argue?
Thursday, December 17, 2009
You might be a Grinch if…
I hope everyone is enjoying the season to the fullest. I’m in full Christmas music mode on my iPod…yes, I am somewhat of a girly-man. I love the season and the snow and the music and the lights. Unfortunately, I’m nursing a gimpy left leg this year, or I would be once again enjoying the shopping also. I have 11 months to get my leg back into shopping shape for next season, however.
Next week I get to spend some time with my two favorite groups of people. Kathy’s family will gather at her dad’s farm on Christmas Eve for lots of great conversation, food and laughter. About the time I think I’ve recovered from the Christmas Eve feast, I’ll start all over on Christmas Day with my family for several more hours of merriment. I can hardly wait.
I would like take a moment to thank everyone who takes time to read this stuff every week…and especially those who took the time to read my column through the years in the local newspapers.
I have so much to be thankful for this year. When your life’s plan gets taken from you unexpectedly, it tends to knock the wind out of your sails. I was so fortunate to find employment after being sent out into the job market when it was at its bleakest. I’m truly blessed.
In order to enjoy Christmas to its fullest, I will be taking another week off from this blog…because I can… So I’ll wish you a Merry Christmas now. I hope you all get to spend time with people you love.
There are some of you out there, however (you know who you are), who tend to put up a Grinch-like front when the season rolls around, but I know deep down that you folks enjoy Christmas more than you are letting on…you might as well admit it.
To those of you who suspect you may truly be Grinch-like, there are a few telltale signs. Here are my Top Ten Signs You Might Truly Be A Christmas Grinch…
10. You are green.
9. Your favorite Christmas song is performed by those annoying barking dogs.
8. Your picture is on the bulletin board at the North Pole Post Office.
7. You think Blitzen is that dude on CNN.
6. Years of coal smudges inside your stocking.
5. The neighborhood kids have nicknamed your yard “Mount Crumpit.”
4. You find yourself repeatedly telling people where they can put there figgy pudding.
3. Your favorite Christmas activity consists of dipping lutefisk in white chocolate and serving it to unsuspecting kids.
2. You have a sore puzzler.
And the number one Top Ten Sign You Might Truly Be A Christmas Grinch…
1. Right after Thanksgiving each year you put up your “Lords not permitted to leap on premises” sign.
Next week I get to spend some time with my two favorite groups of people. Kathy’s family will gather at her dad’s farm on Christmas Eve for lots of great conversation, food and laughter. About the time I think I’ve recovered from the Christmas Eve feast, I’ll start all over on Christmas Day with my family for several more hours of merriment. I can hardly wait.
I would like take a moment to thank everyone who takes time to read this stuff every week…and especially those who took the time to read my column through the years in the local newspapers.
I have so much to be thankful for this year. When your life’s plan gets taken from you unexpectedly, it tends to knock the wind out of your sails. I was so fortunate to find employment after being sent out into the job market when it was at its bleakest. I’m truly blessed.
In order to enjoy Christmas to its fullest, I will be taking another week off from this blog…because I can… So I’ll wish you a Merry Christmas now. I hope you all get to spend time with people you love.
There are some of you out there, however (you know who you are), who tend to put up a Grinch-like front when the season rolls around, but I know deep down that you folks enjoy Christmas more than you are letting on…you might as well admit it.
To those of you who suspect you may truly be Grinch-like, there are a few telltale signs. Here are my Top Ten Signs You Might Truly Be A Christmas Grinch…
10. You are green.
9. Your favorite Christmas song is performed by those annoying barking dogs.
8. Your picture is on the bulletin board at the North Pole Post Office.
7. You think Blitzen is that dude on CNN.
6. Years of coal smudges inside your stocking.
5. The neighborhood kids have nicknamed your yard “Mount Crumpit.”
4. You find yourself repeatedly telling people where they can put there figgy pudding.
3. Your favorite Christmas activity consists of dipping lutefisk in white chocolate and serving it to unsuspecting kids.
2. You have a sore puzzler.
And the number one Top Ten Sign You Might Truly Be A Christmas Grinch…
1. Right after Thanksgiving each year you put up your “Lords not permitted to leap on premises” sign.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
If your name is Clay…stop reading here
Okay, okay…yeah, I know I said I was only taking a week off from the blog blather, but you just never know what life will throw at you… That, and the fact that I don’t HAVE a newspaper deadline every week anymore, so it’s not like I’m losing any income. You people start sending me checks and you’ll get a blog every week, like clockwork.
I’ll start by picking up where I left off. I must admit that I was shocked by the number of people who asked me to “send their best” to Meghan, the newest member of the Wilmes family. I should mention here that there are family members I’ve been writing about for over a decade and nobody’s sent them their best. One fresh face and everyone is fawning over her. Just another reason for my brother Clay to feel overlooked… Fortunately for him he can feel a bit special, being the only male in the family eligible for a discount at Perkins.
Oh, and Meghan wasn’t actually at the Wilmes Family Thanksgiving celebration (she was with REAL family) on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, but we acted as if she were. We gathered for the semi-traditional family pie picture, and inserted her via the wonders of Adobe Photoshop. I’ve included the picture here, but don’t tell Clay if you talk to him. As we were posing for the picture, he refused to be included—“…this picture isn’t going on the Internet is it?”
After I assured him it wasn’t, he agreed to pose.
We also haven’t told him his driver’s license had to be rescinded. We just tell him the car doesn’t start.
Wait till we try to explain why Meghan is in the picture.
The celebration was splendid and I truly had plans of taking only a week off from blogging. We trekked to New Ulm to spend the traditional Thanksgiving Day with Kathy’s family. Lots of great food, board games and laughter were served. I spent the rest of the weekend trying to catch up on odd jobs I had lined up at home, as well as rehearsing for the Opera House Christmas Show. It was good.
About Tuesday of last week, however, things began to go sour. Something hit me overnight on Tuesday, and when I got up Wednesday, I knew I wasn’t going to work. As a matter of fact, I would only put in another six hours the rest of the week, and those were not much fun.
Headache, fever, chills, sinus infection, dizziness, nausea and the inability to stay awake laid me out flat for the remainder of the week. I can’t say I ever remember sleeping that much in a 72-hour period over the course of the rest of my life.
Fortunately, I was once again beginning to feel human by Friday evening, when we had another rehearsal for the Christmas Show. Another rehearsal on Saturday, as well as the two actual shows, and I was ready to call it a week.
I would like to send out a big thank you to all the participants for another wonderful show, and to all who came to see it.
There is always at least one fun anecdote each year. This year it belonged to me. I’ve been singing “O Holy Night” in the show for 12 of the past 13 years, as well as once a year at Danebod Lutheran Church. In the evening show, I forgot the words to not one, but two of the three verses. It was a train wreck. All that was left was for me to stumble forward and crush someone in the front row. Thankfully, I was spared.
Oh, and I got my biggest round of applause in years. I promised if they came back next year, I would sing the remainder of the song…
Just to warn you all, I’ll also be committing bloggus interuptus on Christmas Week. Yes, another break. So you might all want to send your Christmas Greetings to Meghan early.
I’ll probably write one next week, though. We’ll see.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Meghan who?
My family is getting together for Thanksgiving this weekend. There are several in this little corner of Minnesota who know a little bit of history from this event, it was well documented in my weekly column during my newspaper years. Who can forget the great gravy shortage of ’02? You may recall my dismay over the year I inadvertently scheduled a wedding photography gig on the same day as Wilmes Thanksgiving, and the photo my family sent from the dinner table. Then there was the time my sister Barb put the chocolate milk in the mashed potatoes…
Of course the downside of having a son/sibling/uncle/nephew/husband/stepdad who writes a weekly column is this: what happens at family gatherings doesn’t necessarily stay at family gatherings. I regularly have trotted out anecdotes—from embarrassing to amusing—over the past dozen years. Time and again I am reminded that my family members are pretty good sports and can take a jab in the spirit in which it is intended. They also have a talent for landing a few jabs of their own. I readily admit I have made myself a target for unfair ridicule from my brothers and sisters.
The stuff that goes out for public consumption, however, has some of the warts removed and I generally keep a lid on a few of the more personal antics. Last week, however, my family found out we probably have been sharing some of our more intimate thoughts with a complete stranger over the past couple of years. Apparently, despite her efforts to w
arn us…
I will be the first to admit that my family has an above average sense of humor. Having the best sense of humor in the family, I should naturally be the one to make that judgement… Last week, during a typically amusing exchange of emails among my family about food assignments for Thanksgiving and a debate on how long my brother Todd and his wife Susan has been married, we were jarred by the fact that we have been sharing a bit too much information with a young woman named Meghan Wilmes. Turns out she has been included in mass emails originating from my brother Clayton, as well as all the “reply all” responses…some of which have gone on for days, even weeks. In the middle of a rather intense discussion of pie, we received the following email:
Hello to all,
I've been following your emails which have made me laugh. I wish I could come to your Thanksgiving....homemade pies!!!! I know I've told a few of you but apparently not everyone, I'm not actually in your family. :) It seems many of you have my email address saved as a Mark Wilmes and although I do have an uncle Mark I know its not the same one. Anyway, just thought I would send this to everyone because I've also received family pictures and some emails about people with medical conditions which may be urgent at times.
I hope you all have Happy Holidays!
Meghan
I could almost sense the dead silence of my family members as they mentally reviewed the emails and pictures that have been sent out in the past, in an attempt to assess the collateral damage we may have inflicted on this young innocent person. That silence wouldn’t last long. My sister Barb called and we were laughing so hard we could barely speak.
I couldn’t stop going back to the line, “I'm not actually in your family. :)”
It doesn’t take a baseball bat to the head to get through to the Wilmes family, by golly.
A little history: Back in April of 2007, I signed myself up for a web-based email account, enabling me to communicate from my laptop when I was out and about. In Clay’s address book, a combination of an old work email and my new web-based address was added, instead of the actual address. This merging of old and new ended up accidentally making Meghan an innocent bystander in the affairs of our family. We still really don’t know which pictures she has seen and how much she knows about our past medical conditions, and she isn’t saying. We do know, however, she can identify family members from photos.
Despite the faux pas by Clay, entering the wrong email address, I have somehow been blamed for the mix-up by at least one family member, as is revealed in the following missive:
Well, if Mark didn’t feel he was so important as to have a dozen different e-mail addresses, then maybe we wouldn’t have this issue and poor Meghan could live her life in peace.
Nicole
This is troubling, as I really only have three email addresses (home, web-based and office, the last of which I was forced to take, regardless of my perceived “importance”), so I am a bit worried about who Nicole is communicating with by way of those other nine email addresses.
Of course, never being a family to back away from being entertaining, everyone continued to include Meghan in the follow-up emails, and even sent her a family picture and invited her to Thanksgiving (you will notice I included the family picture, in which Meghan graciously added her own picture and sent it back to us). She still can’t get rid of us.
Of all the places those loose cannon emails could have been sent, in the end it turns out Meghan lives in Hugo, MN.
That’s not all…
That “uncle Mark” she referred to??? He and his wife are members of the same church as my sister Darla up in Cloquet.
I would guess that Meghan still hasn’t heard the last from us. I personally added her to my address book. How could we not send her a picture from this weekend’s family gathering? It wouldn’t surprise me if she gets invited to the annual Wilmes Family Board Game Weekend at Clay and Linda’s in the Twin Cities in February.
Of course, I’ll have to send her the link to this blog…
In the meantime, whether she likes it or not…welcome to the family Meghan. Sorry.
Oh, and we’ll be expecting photos and descriptions of your medical procedures in the coming weeks. It is only fair.
You have our addresses…
*****
Don’t look for a blog next week...although maybe a picture. I’ll be attending Thanksgiving II in New Ulm with Kathy’s family. I’m giving myself the week off. If you signed on to this blog recently, take the opportunity to scroll down and check out the archive of previous blogs.
Of course the downside of having a son/sibling/uncle/nephew/husband/stepdad who writes a weekly column is this: what happens at family gatherings doesn’t necessarily stay at family gatherings. I regularly have trotted out anecdotes—from embarrassing to amusing—over the past dozen years. Time and again I am reminded that my family members are pretty good sports and can take a jab in the spirit in which it is intended. They also have a talent for landing a few jabs of their own. I readily admit I have made myself a target for unfair ridicule from my brothers and sisters.
The stuff that goes out for public consumption, however, has some of the warts removed and I generally keep a lid on a few of the more personal antics. Last week, however, my family found out we probably have been sharing some of our more intimate thoughts with a complete stranger over the past couple of years. Apparently, despite her efforts to w
arn us…I will be the first to admit that my family has an above average sense of humor. Having the best sense of humor in the family, I should naturally be the one to make that judgement… Last week, during a typically amusing exchange of emails among my family about food assignments for Thanksgiving and a debate on how long my brother Todd and his wife Susan has been married, we were jarred by the fact that we have been sharing a bit too much information with a young woman named Meghan Wilmes. Turns out she has been included in mass emails originating from my brother Clayton, as well as all the “reply all” responses…some of which have gone on for days, even weeks. In the middle of a rather intense discussion of pie, we received the following email:
Hello to all,
I've been following your emails which have made me laugh. I wish I could come to your Thanksgiving....homemade pies!!!! I know I've told a few of you but apparently not everyone, I'm not actually in your family. :) It seems many of you have my email address saved as a Mark Wilmes and although I do have an uncle Mark I know its not the same one. Anyway, just thought I would send this to everyone because I've also received family pictures and some emails about people with medical conditions which may be urgent at times.
I hope you all have Happy Holidays!
Meghan
I could almost sense the dead silence of my family members as they mentally reviewed the emails and pictures that have been sent out in the past, in an attempt to assess the collateral damage we may have inflicted on this young innocent person. That silence wouldn’t last long. My sister Barb called and we were laughing so hard we could barely speak.
I couldn’t stop going back to the line, “I'm not actually in your family. :)”
It doesn’t take a baseball bat to the head to get through to the Wilmes family, by golly.
A little history: Back in April of 2007, I signed myself up for a web-based email account, enabling me to communicate from my laptop when I was out and about. In Clay’s address book, a combination of an old work email and my new web-based address was added, instead of the actual address. This merging of old and new ended up accidentally making Meghan an innocent bystander in the affairs of our family. We still really don’t know which pictures she has seen and how much she knows about our past medical conditions, and she isn’t saying. We do know, however, she can identify family members from photos.
Despite the faux pas by Clay, entering the wrong email address, I have somehow been blamed for the mix-up by at least one family member, as is revealed in the following missive:
Well, if Mark didn’t feel he was so important as to have a dozen different e-mail addresses, then maybe we wouldn’t have this issue and poor Meghan could live her life in peace.
Nicole
This is troubling, as I really only have three email addresses (home, web-based and office, the last of which I was forced to take, regardless of my perceived “importance”), so I am a bit worried about who Nicole is communicating with by way of those other nine email addresses.
Of course, never being a family to back away from being entertaining, everyone continued to include Meghan in the follow-up emails, and even sent her a family picture and invited her to Thanksgiving (you will notice I included the family picture, in which Meghan graciously added her own picture and sent it back to us). She still can’t get rid of us.
Of all the places those loose cannon emails could have been sent, in the end it turns out Meghan lives in Hugo, MN.
That’s not all…
That “uncle Mark” she referred to??? He and his wife are members of the same church as my sister Darla up in Cloquet.
I would guess that Meghan still hasn’t heard the last from us. I personally added her to my address book. How could we not send her a picture from this weekend’s family gathering? It wouldn’t surprise me if she gets invited to the annual Wilmes Family Board Game Weekend at Clay and Linda’s in the Twin Cities in February.
Of course, I’ll have to send her the link to this blog…
In the meantime, whether she likes it or not…welcome to the family Meghan. Sorry.
Oh, and we’ll be expecting photos and descriptions of your medical procedures in the coming weeks. It is only fair.
You have our addresses…
*****
Don’t look for a blog next week...although maybe a picture. I’ll be attending Thanksgiving II in New Ulm with Kathy’s family. I’m giving myself the week off. If you signed on to this blog recently, take the opportunity to scroll down and check out the archive of previous blogs.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Waiting for the beep…
Is it only me, or does everyone my age try to keep a constant vigil for signs of his or her own early-onset senility, or whatever it is called these days. I’m guessing that the word senile is no longer politically correct. I constantly wonder how long before I’m considered by others to be a doddering old fool. In my younger days, I always felt a twinge of pity for elderly people who were obviously beginning to slip in to a semi-sentient state. Now that it is I who is showing early signs of becoming doddering, I’ve picked up an entirely new perspective. I find it a constant source of amusement—which I would assume has become a growing font of consternation for the younger members of my family.
I now have to wear my keys around my neck. I had no choice. I work for a company where I need to swipe a plastic fob and punch in a code in order to have access to part of the building. If I don’t remember to bring it to the office—37.1 miles from my front door—I am required to go home and get them.. Knowing my proclivity for misplacing my keys, I took preventative measures and acquired a lanyard with my SecurID OTP key fob, my HID access key fob, the key to my ignition, the remote to lock and unlock my car door and the key to the front door. This memory-assist method is all held together by the fact that I have to drive my Trailblazer in order to get to work, making it impossible to leave home without the rest of my essentials. This should save me from ever adding 74.2 miles to my commute. The lanyard (if used without fail) will prevent me from placing my keys on the canned fruit shelf in Maynards when I’m choosing my Mandarin oranges.
There are some symptoms of doddering, however, that just can’t be fixed.
I’m reminded of the day earlier this year, when I was standing in Scott’s Electronics in Tyler, waiting patiently for the customer ahead of me to finish. A cell phone started ringing. Not, I thought, an unusual sound in a business that sells cell phones. After three rings, I noticed all three of the others in the room were looking at me. I smiled and made a “don’t worry, I’m in no hurry” sort of gesture. It wasn’t until after I left the building that I noticed the missed call beep notification coming from the front pocket of my pants. Apparently the sound of my phone ringing cannot travel out of my jeans, over my belly, and to my auditory canal with enough volume for me to notice. My retro-active amusement was slightly elevated by the fact that I remembered thinking when I was standing in Scott’s that someone else had my same ring…
There are other signs...like the day a couple of weeks ago when I went to work showing signs of doddering. It seems I started my morning by fastening button two in hole three, button three in hole four, button four…well, you get the picture. There is no beep notification for something like that.
Back in October I showed up one week early for my doctor’s appointment. I noticed it AFTER I had, earlier in the day, demanded that my blood test results be ready by 4:30 PM. At the check-in counter, Darla tried to soften the blow. “That’s OK, Mark, you aren’t the first patient to do something like that,” she said, carefully avoiding the word doddering.
I got a good laugh from that one.
On a regular basis, MY end of a conversation will sound something like this:
“I saw what’s-his-name today…the guy that lives on the old…um…oh man, what was the name of those people…you know, they live down the road from that guy with the comb-over we talked to in church Sunday morning…”
Most of this stuff is fairly harmless fun, of course. I do worry a bit about when I will start taking it to a new level, though.
I had a real scare in the front yard the other night. Kathy and I were bagging leaves and she made the comment, “not sure if you noticed, but you have a pile behind you…”
My heart leapt to my chest.
I was scared to look.
Turns out she was talking about leaves…but it took a few minutes for the fall color to drain out of my cheeks.
Sometime in the future, if you see me in my front yard with my shirt buttoned crooked, my front pocket beeping and something behind me on the lawn, do me a favor…just smile and wave.
You’ll know I’m having the time of my life.
I now have to wear my keys around my neck. I had no choice. I work for a company where I need to swipe a plastic fob and punch in a code in order to have access to part of the building. If I don’t remember to bring it to the office—37.1 miles from my front door—I am required to go home and get them.. Knowing my proclivity for misplacing my keys, I took preventative measures and acquired a lanyard with my SecurID OTP key fob, my HID access key fob, the key to my ignition, the remote to lock and unlock my car door and the key to the front door. This memory-assist method is all held together by the fact that I have to drive my Trailblazer in order to get to work, making it impossible to leave home without the rest of my essentials. This should save me from ever adding 74.2 miles to my commute. The lanyard (if used without fail) will prevent me from placing my keys on the canned fruit shelf in Maynards when I’m choosing my Mandarin oranges.
There are some symptoms of doddering, however, that just can’t be fixed.
I’m reminded of the day earlier this year, when I was standing in Scott’s Electronics in Tyler, waiting patiently for the customer ahead of me to finish. A cell phone started ringing. Not, I thought, an unusual sound in a business that sells cell phones. After three rings, I noticed all three of the others in the room were looking at me. I smiled and made a “don’t worry, I’m in no hurry” sort of gesture. It wasn’t until after I left the building that I noticed the missed call beep notification coming from the front pocket of my pants. Apparently the sound of my phone ringing cannot travel out of my jeans, over my belly, and to my auditory canal with enough volume for me to notice. My retro-active amusement was slightly elevated by the fact that I remembered thinking when I was standing in Scott’s that someone else had my same ring…
There are other signs...like the day a couple of weeks ago when I went to work showing signs of doddering. It seems I started my morning by fastening button two in hole three, button three in hole four, button four…well, you get the picture. There is no beep notification for something like that.
Back in October I showed up one week early for my doctor’s appointment. I noticed it AFTER I had, earlier in the day, demanded that my blood test results be ready by 4:30 PM. At the check-in counter, Darla tried to soften the blow. “That’s OK, Mark, you aren’t the first patient to do something like that,” she said, carefully avoiding the word doddering.
I got a good laugh from that one.
On a regular basis, MY end of a conversation will sound something like this:
“I saw what’s-his-name today…the guy that lives on the old…um…oh man, what was the name of those people…you know, they live down the road from that guy with the comb-over we talked to in church Sunday morning…”
Most of this stuff is fairly harmless fun, of course. I do worry a bit about when I will start taking it to a new level, though.
I had a real scare in the front yard the other night. Kathy and I were bagging leaves and she made the comment, “not sure if you noticed, but you have a pile behind you…”
My heart leapt to my chest.
I was scared to look.
Turns out she was talking about leaves…but it took a few minutes for the fall color to drain out of my cheeks.
Sometime in the future, if you see me in my front yard with my shirt buttoned crooked, my front pocket beeping and something behind me on the lawn, do me a favor…just smile and wave.
You’ll know I’m having the time of my life.
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