Personal appearance is a challange sometimes

Sometimes I wonder about my powers of observation when it comes to myself and my appearance. All my life has been spent in an occupation which requires me to help other people with how their vehicle looks. It's all about appearance. This means that I have to see any defect, soil, scratch, stain or hair out of place. If I do my job, the customer will be happy. Frankly, I am very good at what I do and some people come from as far away as Tennessee and Florida to have me work on their rides. That's all well and good but when it comes to seeing any of those things in my physical appearance, it seems I simply don't have an eye for it. Picky as I am, I just can't get it all together sometimes.

Walking out of church last Sunday, a fellow church goer asked me if I knew that there was part of a candy bar stuck to the seat end of my pants. How embarrassing! I went to the grocery store on the Saturday before and the cashier at the front counter caught my attention to tell me that they couldn't allow me in the store without a shirt on. I had been gardening, enjoying the sunshine, thought of something I needed and forgot all about putting on a shirt. How embarrassing!

Standing in line at the gas station on Monday afternoon a guy behind me touched my shoulder to catch my attention and whispered my underwear was pulled up over my shirt in the rear. How Embarrassing! Here I sit, as I am typing this after just noticing I had two different types of socks on. At least they are the same color. How embarrassing!

I'm thinking I need me a personal assistant. Lay out my clothes, make sure they match, (I've been known to mix stripes and plaids, yellows and reds) Make sure they are clean, and make sure the elastic is tucked in. I'm so busy thinking about everyone else I can't see my own self. How embarrassing!

What's your passion?

Just what is it that you are passionate about? I don't need an answer from you but it may not be a bad idea at all to ask yourself what it is that you are passionate about. Yesterday the question came up and, quite frankly I had to think about it for a long, long time. The thought hadn't occurred to me in the recent past, maybe in the far past either. it's not a question that comes up often over dinner or while conducting business. A true artist is passionate about their art. A true musician is passionate about their music, A true athlete is passionate about their sport, and so on it goes. At least that's what we believe about high profile pursuits. How often do we hear about us common folk and our passion? Has anyone asked you about yours lately? Does anyone actually care about the person behind the counter at the fast food joint? What kind of answer would you receive if you asked? I'm thinking it would often come as a surprise. Who would think that someone working for minimum  wage, barely eking out a living would even remotely be passionate about anything? So, what's your passion?

I am passionate about a few things I guess. I detail cars for a living, I am passionate about getting them done right. I've been passionate about detailing since I was ten years old. But detailing is not my whole life is it? I am passionate about doing the right thing regarding my family to the best of my ability. I'm passionate about my faith beliefs. I can think about a few other things too but then I step back and realize that an actual passion consumes your resources physically and spiritually and mentally doesn't it? That leaves not much room for another passion does it? I need to rethink my ideas of passion I guess. For now, the one thing that I can think of that consumes my ideal of passion is this: I feel that everyone should receive their just rewards for what they do or do not do. I have never wavered from that belief and I am passionate about it. Still, is that my passion in life? A good question to ponder.

Staying cool in hot weather

According to the local weather report her in central Michigan we are beginning a heat wave. Three days or longer of over 90* temperatures and high humidity. Everything is relative isn't it? Meteorologists are warning everyone, particularly those of age to keep themselves cool in any way they can and drink lots of fluids. Unfortunately, they say to stay away from alcoholic beverages so there goes the fun part for many. But as far as the relative part, in the southern states the heat and humidity, although surely just as uncomfortable is simply a way of life in the Summertime. They manage to survive it and keep going. We can too, it's not so much the end of the world as we know it is it? I've survived hot and cool summers and lived to see the fall color explosion of a Michigan Fall.

My problem has always been that I don't much care for water. Water is great for us. I still don't care for it. I drank tea, soda, power drinks, cold and hot coffee, but if it was a surprising day if even one glass of water crossed my lips. Now I'm back to water. Gag or not, I've managed for the past month to choke down at least two quarts of water a day. I guess it's keeping me cool and hydrated like they advise. But the main ways I manage to stay cool in the hot weather are #1-simply not hiding from the heat. I just slow down a bit until I get used to it. #2- find shade when I can. #3- keep a deep pan of water somewhere so I can sit and soak  my feet for a while. (not the same water I drink though) #4- shower just before bed and I stay cool enough to get several hours sleep. I can deal with the heat much better when I am well rested. Are these good ideas? Are they enough to keep me from getting heat related health issues? Answer- So far, so good!

Stay cool............Joe

My dad on being the critic

On this last day of reminiscing about my pop, recalling his perspective regarding critical folks pervades my thoughts. He wasn't keen on those that would impose their will on us, for whatever reason. "No one died and made them king, queen or judge and jury."

Criticize the cook-be prepared to go without food
Criticize the giver-be prepared for nothing
Criticize a woman's appearance-be prepared to be alone
Criticize the doctor holding the scalpel just before surgery-that's just plain stupid
Stuff like that. If you criticize be prepared for all the ensuing consequences. Try as I might, I have a hard time remembering that, especially when I'm driving. I find it hard to believe some of those idiots are allowed to drive on public roads. Getting in my way, going too slow, going too fast, forgetting to signal a turn, generally not giving in to the fact that if all drivers simply did my will there would be peace and tranquility on every thoroughfare everywhere. I keep thinking it's pure fact, not criticism, right?

Competative sports?

How do athletes exercise to maintain their competitive edge?

Competitive sports are as much a staple of our modern day society as they have been throughout history. Of course, what with the advantages of new fangled electronic media millions of viewers are able to watch a competitive sport 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Professional and amateur athletes alike are subjected to criticism from around the world. They have to stay in shape to be at the top of their game or face constant ridicule from armchair experts. Sports are big business! In my opinion, somewhere along the way, the term "sport" has been altered far from it's original intent. A couple of examples if I may:

#1- Competitive eating
#2- Competitive poker

Just how does one prepare themselves physically to endure the trials and tribulations in either one of those sports?
 Umm, let's see now. Eat so much as to stretch the stomach to capacities never before seen in the civilized world. Practice exercising the throat muscles holding down food so you don't puke.
When it comes to cards it's important to work your butt enough to build up protective callouses for hours of sitting. Facial muscles must be trained to maintain a constant "poker face".

Two "sports" I simply don't understand as being spectator friendly. Seeing someone puke or another person push a pile of tokens is not high on my agenda.

An entire channel of broadcasting can be dedicated to just about anything these days as long as it is deemed a sport. Where is the Chess channel? Where is the kite flying channel? Where is the crepitation channel? And, as long as we are at it: Where is the competitive sleeping channel? Oh wait, maybe it's already here.

Enjoy the day. If you need a good night's sleep there are a couple sports to watch that will help.

Spring cleaning vs taxes

Personally, I grab the opportunity to clean my surroundings every Spring. Not quite so enthusiastically I also grab at doing my taxes. But they both have to be done so I divide my time between the two so as to maintain a reasonable amount of sanity. The Spring cleaning involves throwing stuff away that I saved for one purpose or another and every time I start to pitch an item I have to go through a whole mental scrubbing or I'll throw away something I need and can't replace. Yesterday I took on my computer software collection. Over the years an accumulation of programs and accessories built to massive proportions due to a swinging door of one antiquated computer after another. I think I found a floppy disk containing Windows 1978. Well, maybe not quite but almost. The computers are gone, however I felt a need to keep that junk, just in case! Putting my fears aside I waded through and filled one box after another to send to the recyclers and put them in the truck for dropping off on the way home. I really made a dent in the pile of useless materials. Finally the drawers, cabinets and shelves were cleared and tidy. Ready for a new influx of computer brick a brack I didn't know what to do with but was afraid to throw away. Feeling quite victorious after such a major accomplishment I set myself to attacking the year end tax situation. Things were going quite well for about an hour, then I came across an empty packet where some extremely vital information was supposed to be. It dealt with the tax record bookkeeping computer program I was working on. I was struck speechless. Where was the information? Ah, it was still lodged in the computer, I simply forgot to print it out I guess. I opened the drawer where the memory backup for the program was located, at least that was where it was supposed to be. Not there! Panic time! I had just cleaned that drawer and thrown out all kinds of stuff. Did I throw out that too? I looked everywhere in that area. Not there! I looked again. Not there! Oh my goodness, it must be in the truck, I thought. I proceeded to take everything back out of the truck, one box at a time, remove the entire contents, going through each and every piece. I examined the whole lot. After an hour and a half of searching, Not there! Vital information needed for completing my taxes was missing and looking more and more like it is gone. I had searched every possible location. I could not for the life of me remember where I could possibly have placed it. Woe is me, woe is me. All is lost........................!

Not being one to sit idly by and feel sorry for myself, I decided to take action and began the process of creating an entirely new, hand written record of transactions I needed to complete my taxes. I opened the drawer I originally thought the back up program was in and the entire program and packet of information fell from behind the divider that was stuck to the handle. Just another day in the life of a pack rat. All better now. I wish you a much less complicated day.

Pet peeves in the middle of the night

What ever happened to visiting a library or grocery store to meet someone of the opposite sex? Right now there are so many dating sights on the Internet the advertisements overwhelm the average mind. No, I'm not on the dating scene. That's not the issue. It's the torrent of those advertisements and the claims they make that are a real pain in my book/backside. Some sights are brazenly racist while others appeal to a person's faith life or heaven knows what. One of those places goes so far as to speak for God! Hey folks, pay us money and find out who God wants you to be with. Huh? Who made them spokespeople for God? I guess I missed that part in the bible.

Who decides how many pieces or pounds or ounces of a certain product get put into a container?: Six donuts, Ten hot dogs, Eight hot dog buns, (that one really gets me.) Fifteen and a half ounces of peaches in a can, .05 ounces of seeds, and then the ever decreasing size of what once was a three pound can of coffee, now?: 869g, in other words 1lb, 14.6 ounces. Yup! That's how higher prices sneak up on us. Rolls of toilet tissue are made over an inch narrower than only a few short years ago. Truthfully I don't get that one, people are getting heavier with each generation whilst TP is getting smaller.

There is an attack being formed to eliminate cordless microphones and turn the airwaves spectrum over to telephones or TV or radio. I guess it'll be back to those megaphone things. Nah, not really. We will simply return to the days of yards upon yards of lines leading to microphones in churches, auditoriums and the sidelines of football fields. American Idol will have to have those people audition wrapped in wire and the TV news reporters will have thick wires hanging down their back. We did it all before, we'll deal with it again I guess.

The new health care system is a point of contention for a lot of people these days. Something that people have always aspired to get as a part of a good employment package or earn enough to afford is health insurance. Not everyone has health insurance and that is the issue being dealt with politically right now. Realistically what is being done, be it right or wrong is: some health care is being taken away from those that have it and given to those that do not have it. It's such a hot topic not because any of us want anyone to go without health care, it's because we really don't want any of the health care we worked so hard and sacrificed so long to obtain to be taken away. It's not that something shouldn't be done, it's how it's being done by people that aren't being affected by it.

Products being made in China are a source of contention to a huge number of folks that blame our high unemployment figures on imports. Not so long ago Chinese products were called junk and sold in novelty stores. The same with other imports. There was a time when Japanese cars were the laughing stock of the world of transportation. The manufacturers around the world felt no competition or need to be concerned. Today a Japanese car manufacturer sells more cars than any other manufacturer anywhere. And, the loyalty of it's customers is incredible. Thanks to the work and ethical standards of the Japanese they have an excellent standard of living. The Chinese are attempting the same climb to the top. Other countries are making stuff we want for cheap to get the money to make stuff we want that is higher quality than we make here. Is the answer to stop buying from them or is it to make some stuff they want cheap and sell it to them and use the money to make even better stuff and get even more money and everyone winds up happy. Is that possible? Besides, who is left around here that needs to do the manual labor when they are given for free what the people in most Asian countries have to work for? In India they make a new car that will sell for around $2000. Now that is something to think about. At one time the Americans were the innovators.

This pet peeve thing is what goes through a person's mind when he can't sleep I think. During daylight hours there are so many other distractions and input of information that one's innermost thoughts are suppressed to the point of boiling over into the night. That's where I'm at now. Not that any of this stuff is really any more important than anything you can think of. We all have our own perspective and opinions. All equally valid. It's just that at this particular moment everyone else is sleeping and I get a chance to express myself and air out my mind to make room for other stuff. It won't be long and the pressures of the day will take the place of anything as trivial as a pet peeve. Actually it'll be seven minutes from now. That's a whole nother story, er peeve of mine. Later.....Joe

Dressing in technicolor

Wherever we go, no matter which way we look, there is always the person who stands out by wearing cutting edge, color coordinated clothing. Bright, bold, daring, sometimes almost giving off a neon appearance but at the same time, for them at least, somehow tasteful! Man, I envy those people. Most of us, guys at least, wear whatever the manikins at Sears has on or the shirts and sweaters that go with bluejeans. Truthfully, most men believe that anything goes well with bluejeans. From sleeveless T-shirts, to high end sport coats, Dickie's, no matter really, anything goes. Do we stand out in a crowd? Nope! We simply look the same as any other guy with poor taste. Scruffy, that's the look most guys have right now, Unless you are an attorney, insurance salesman or undertaker. Watching a highly regarded millionaire speak to a national audience on TV over the holidays almost hurt from the shame I felt for this rich guys style: three day beard, hair sticking out every which way, rolled up sleeves, wrinkled shirt, striped sweater, (striped, really?) and to top it off, loafers without socks. OMG! No wonder this country is going to hades in a hand basket. I have an idea to save the American population from total annihilation. Lets start dressing in "Technicolor" just like we used to see in movies back in the 40's, 50's, and 60's. If you haven't seen a movie from that era lately I'd suggest you may just want to. Technicolor you see, is the blending of only four colors to create a magnificent color feast for the eyes. Technicolor was a wonderfully happy explosion of beauty. Horror movies were filmed in black and white or sepia because technicolor had such an affect on our psyche that we weren't horrified by the scenes of terror. With technicolor we couldn't shake the feeling of well being and pleasure was at times almost overwhelming. When we watched movies in technicolor, the women were spectacular and the next thing to perfect, Doris Day, Marilyn Monroe, Gina Lollobrigida strutted their stuff in such a way to influence the love life of every man that saw them. Then the guys, Rock Hudson, Burt Lancaster, John Wayne, when women watched those guys in technicolor they would almost swoon (that's pass out for you younger folks) with the passion aroused in their very souls. Oh, those were the days my friend, those were the days. While we were watching movies in technicolor we managed to overcome the trauma of a second world war as well as the Korean conflict. We pulled ourselves through a couple of recessions, our music was fantastic and unforgettable, our cars were colorful, fast and creative. As long as we had technicolor we had positive attitudes, were inventive, self confident, could survive almost anything that came along and most of us dressed accordingly. Then came the new, modern way of taking movies. Everything changed. As a country we went off the deep end. Drugs, free love, families started breaking up by the thousands, the price of gasoline skyrocketed, (well, it did) and the dress code went into the toilet for the general population. See what I mean? You can check it out of you want.

That is the basis for my theory that if we start dressing in technicolor, as a society we will begin to conquer the demons that are causing us so much anguish. At your first opportunity, grab a movie from that era, make it a happy one with Sandra Dee, Bobby Darin, Doris Day, Rock Hudson, Jack Lemon, John Wayne, you know those types. Sit back with the drapes open so the sun can shine in, sip some wine or hot chocolate, maybe some popcorn with butter, eat a few Dot candies and feast on the display of beautiful colors unfolding before you. Remember those colors when you go shopping.

Simply another avenue towards self improvement and a better life. You're welcome! Now, I have to go out and get a new wardrobe myself. I've been looking a little scruffy myself of late. Yeah, I better practice what I preach. At least I never wore pajamas in the grocery store, right?

Computer bookkeeping and me

I believe I am a reasonably intelligent guy. I read at a college level, speak and write at a seventh grade level, understand immature jokes and cook like a master chef. There is one problem in my educational balance though: Computer intelligence is something I find difficult if not impossible to understand. For whatever reason, when I am dealing with a form of intelligence that cannot talk back to me my mind stops even wanting to sit there and being embarrassed time after time by little pop-up bubbles exposing my inadequacies. Made fun of by an "artificial" form of intelligence is not my cup of tea. When speaking with real live experts and masters and other smarty pants people, if they say something demeaning, I can say back something equally smart like, "Yeah, and you too!" If I type that into the egotistical computer it sends me a pop-up balloon with a pre-assembled message that reads, "Improper input!" I ask you, how do I respond to that? I typed what I was thinking, "Just what kind of input do you need?" Another bubble, " Improper input, re-enter password to establish connection." I re-entered my password. "Incorrect password, re-enter password to establish connection." I re-re-entered my password. "Incorrect password, only one more chance to re-enter correct password or lose opportunity for 24 hours." Sweat began pouring down my forehead, I need to establish a connection with this new bookkeeping program, my customer is waiting and watching me print up his invoice so he can pay me. I detect a smirk beginning to form on the corner of his lip. The pressure is immense, This computer is lording it over me and humiliating me big time. What to do? What to do? That's where my "non-artificial" intelligence came into play. I pulled the plug on that freakin', bubble producing, narrow minded, unaccommodating, full of crap computer and hand wrote the invoice, collected my money and sent my customer on his way. After the customer was gone, I plugged that computer back in, let it boot up, turned on the offending program and entered my password as, "Yeah, and you too!" The computer popped up a bubble stating "Final opportunity to enter correct password dis" That's when I pulled the plug again! "Dirtybridgeragafratchflaggaloomer!" Put that in your stupid hard drive! Today I bought a tutorial CD. I know my limitations but the computer doesn't know how to deal with them. That makes me smarter. I find comfort in that.

Chicken wings and marketing

It wasn't all that long ago that if we visited a KFC and asked for chicken wings the person at the counter would have to hustle to make sure all of them hadn't been thrown into the trash. Nobody wanted chicken wings. (Except for me of course) I could often talk the store into selling me a box full for a nickle or dime each. At the time, when people ordered a Family Meal box of chicken they inevitably asked to have a mix of parts but "leave out the wings." Wings were considered in the same category as the tail. A good party host wouldn't be caught offering chicken wings on an hordouvres tray. Nope! Not it just wasn't proper. That was great for me. I could always count on eating great chicken on the cheap. Just the right combination of skin, seasoning, breading and meat. "Finger lickin' good!" Then some enterprising chicken cooking chef decides to add extra words to an otherwise dish reserved for the vulgar crowd who didn't otherwise have a choice. Suddenly, literally overnight wings became something special. Now I had to compete for my beloved chicken wings and also step to the window price wise too. Same chicken wings, it was only a couple macho type words  that brought them into the mainstream. "Buffalo", "Ding", "Fire", "Wild", just four simple words and wings were an epicurean delicacy. Not only that but still another entrepreneur decided to split those magnificent wings in half and call them some sort of finger food. And that same guy found some way to make people want to pay the same price for half a wing and double his income. I was becoming perturbed at anyone involved in the marketing of chicken wings. Actually, I still am. I dearly miss my nickle or dime chicken wings when they would even throw in a few extra free of charge because they were happy to be rid of them. Marketing people have really changed our cultural landscape when it comes to what we eat. I guess I like some of it but other stuff I'm not so taken with.

The woman that invented spinach dip was actually a genius. Her'e this mom of about 11 kids and she couldn't get them to eat the best vegetable in the world that didn't taste quite so "best" and made them gag. Wanting to be a good mom she kept offering her brood the spinach but alas, those kids kept gagging. All the while her husband was getting a little tired of being the one to eat all that left over spinach. They, being of modest means could not afford to let any food go to waste. One day Mr. husband, almost gagging himself from way too much spinach, decided to put some into an almost empty jar of Cheese Whiz to add a little flavor. He made it through and finished the spinach. Mom, seeing husbands method of survival made a mental note. She was one smart cookie. The next week, on the day the family usually tried to eat spinach, while the kids were still away at school, mom put her plan into action. Taking a couple cans of spinach, a jar of cheese whiz and some cream cheese, she blended it into a sort of gooey stuff. (Kids like gooey stuff, she thought) Then she fried up some corn meal and flour cup shaped chips and place that stuff on the table. When the kids all got home and settled and ready to start gagging when mom said they had to eat spinach and husband prepared to suck it up and eat the spinach, mom said to everyone that "tonight is a special night. No supper, we are all going to eat homemade chips and dip and watch a movie!" The kids were delighted, dad and husband was delighted, the movie went on, the chips and (spinach) dip were placed in the middle of the room, everyone watched the movie, ate the (spinach dip) and chips, laughed, didn't gag and asked when they could do it again and have some more of that wonderful dip and chips. That's what good marketing does. That's how chicken wings turned mainstream and my cheap food disappeared. Marketing can end the recession and bring us all to financial independence. But I sure miss my cheap, just plain wings.

What a great day!

Have you recently experienced such a wild anticipation for the day to begin that you couldn't sleep at all? Tossing and turning, constantly looking at the clock in disbelief that it's only been minutes instead of hours since the last look. That's been my night so far. I finally decided to get up, put on the coffee and accept my inability to sleep and hope I'll make it up next time. Despite the fact that TV is lousy this time of night, the songs played on the radio are repetitious and mundane and talk radio is limited to conversations concerning aliens, conspiracy theories and demonic possession on Coast to Coast AM, I am on needles and pins awaiting the crack of dawn. I can feel it in my bones. Something wonderful is about to happen. A new revelation, a breakthrough of immense proportions, untold wonders never before seen by the human eye. That's the feeling coursing through my very soul. Where does it come from? I have no idea. I didn't ask for it, no one told me to think that way. It certainly wasn't any sort of astrological interpretation. I can't remember anything in particular that anyone said. I simply feel this is going to be a wonderful day. I guess I'm OK with that.

So far it's stacking up to be something special, in a normal sort of way. While putting the coffee on to warm, (it is my custom to drink yesterdays leftover coffee. I like it, really I do) the cupboard opened just a crack and revealed a container of Mocha blend creamer. Whoa! I thought. Already it's starting. I love mocha! The smells of my discovery filled the morning air almost hypnotically. If nothing else this good happened all day, I had this to carry me through right? Then, rummaging around my reading pile for the day a previously unread comic section from the newspaper was uncovered. "Are you kidding me?" I love the comic section! Are you beginning to see what I'm talking about here? In disbelief of my good fortune I poured a cup of that delectable mocha and set myself down at the computer to see what I could see. There were business items I must tend to. However, a note was attached noting I had "mail". A friend had sent me one of the most hilarious little videos I've seen in half a year and maybe even longer. A truly wonderful experience, in my opinion, is to begin your day by almost falling off your chair in a fit of laughter. I'm beginning to wonder if I really did wake up but stopped just short of pinching myself. I'm not into self inflicted pain. I took a few moments to bask in the glow of a feeling of well being. A feeling (sorry, lots of feelings today I guess) of strength came over me and I dared to turn on the TV news. In most cases I dread the negativity of the news but not today. I stared in disbelief at the story unfolding before my eyes, apparently we are not all going to die from the flu! The economy, in spite of anything bad going on is still improving. Bob Segar is about to begin another tour. Again the thought of pinching myself had to be resisted. Then, to top it all off we were reminded that in less than 36 hours the 2014 Corvette will be revealed to the world in all it's glory. Phew! I just wonder how much more of this good stuff I can deal with.

I think it's time to get ready to take on the day. With all this good stuff coming at me from all sides it's probably a good idea to be wearing clean clothes and stuff like that. What if Publisher's Clearing House comes to the door? No wait, from what I've read about the winners and their problems, if this indeed is going to be a good day then I won't be winning. Yeah, that's how a good day works. I'm going to watch that hilarious email again. You have a nice day too OK?

Dealing with a bore.

Ever notice that occasionally, when you are having a conversation with someone, suddenly you realize that, in their opinion all your things and ideas are crap and all their things and ideas are "special"? You know what I'm talking about don't you? We like this kind of coffee, they think it tastes terrible because that kind is better. You like this kind of car, they like that kind of car because ours is terrible and bad in every way. It's the same with almost anything. If we don't like what they like we are obviously ignorant, uninformed and in need of their direction and advice which they are more than willing to spend an enormous amount of our time imposing on us. We are left with the feeling that according to them, we cannot make a rational decision. Period! Nope, we are not capable of making up our own minds. Besides an acquaintance or two I get that feeling from more than a few salesmen and, of course, political ads and those news reporters and the subtle facial gestures
and head movements they make while reporting in an "unbiased" way.

The advice from those in the know says that when you are faced with an opinionated know it all, your weapon of choice is the question. Any question will do to start but it is important to stay with an aggressive attack of inquiry so as to deplete the resources of the offending social bore. Who, what, why, where and how, with the occasional, "really?" Salesmen, news and the political stuff aren't really a problem for me, I find it (according to the latest poll) almost equally balanced between humorous and annoying and I am in charge of being there or the on/off switch. It's when meeting this problem face to face in a social setting that I need to sharpen my strategic maneuvering abilities. I'm looking into this question weapon thing.

My first question?
"Did you know there is a booger smeared on the side of your nose?"

That should get the conversation started in the right direction shouldn't it?

History class one-O-one

You can't go back to the past.

Over time, children's TV cartoons have evolved to, in part bring down the level of violence. Mighty Mouse was always doing big timer damage to villains, Penelope somebody had a bunch of crooks as her protectors and Wiley Coyote wrought terror upon the helpless desert habitating Road Runner. On the retail side, pop guns, cork shooting rifles, cap loaded revolvers and bows and arrows are so totally avoided so as to not put the tools of violence into little Billy's hands and create anti social behavior. Cartoons most often in recent years have become a horse of a different color. Cute, non violent, complete equality and so obviously non argumentative. Powder puffy, soft, calming colors, low voices, big eyes,  able to show emotions at a single word, apologetic and unconditionally forgiving. All this change coming about because the theory is the old cartoons showing the battle between good and evil confused the little minds of our kids. How's that working for us?

Clothing is changing too. Now that our kids are so much more mature at a much earlier age modesty is considered old fashioned and stifling to imaginations filled with all those mature ideas of dressing up like their older "equals". Walt Disney brought us the Mousketeers for our safe amusement half a century ago. Fun, innocent and entertaining while maintaining an element of modesty and good taste. To the point of using constricting undergarments so as to not overemphasize the bust of blossoming teenagers. Parents could safely allow kids to watch without supervision to explain the stuff about sex. Today's kids are way too smart to give that much fun a second look.

School dances at one time were having all sorts of difficulties because the guys would make themselves sick drinking a bottle of Coke straight down without swallowing or the girls would get caught with too much make up. Gum on the school grounds was considered a huge problem. The more mature, well adjusted and informed teens of today don't even mess with that kid's stuff. They only dress revealingly enough so as to validate their sexual prowess they learned so much about in class, dance as if they were about to pro-create and speak with a four letter word category I never even knew existed.

Cap guns are scarce but paint ball guns and soft air rifles resembling assault rifles and machine guns are sold everywhere.

You can't go back in history. All of those changes were made to help us live in a better, less violent society. How's that working out for us?

It's our money!

Being unable to continue my ride around the lake at this time is not only somewhat frustrating but also leaves me with too much time on my hands and I even resort to viewing TV at times. Something I almost never do. And then, to top it off, the airways are filled to overflowing with political news. The presidential campaign is in full swing and everyone is saying something about just what the government is going to do with it's huge, almost unlimited financial clout. You've seen and heard all that stuff before haven't you? Well, so have I. We are a voting country, we use our vote to continue or change the direction of our government instead of guns. It's a great system. However, we have a problem at the moment: The politicians have forgotten one thing: "It's not their money!"

I am a lowly individual and have no right to say much of anything about the government. My place is generally to pay my taxes and trust the politicians to disburse it properly. Right? That's what a good taxpayer does. Yesterday I watched a politician state how he was going to spend those tax dollars to help the poor people. Then, about a half hour later I went to the store. Two of those poor people walked leisurely across the parking lot, effectively blocking any traffic while they discussed whatever it was that they were discussing. Stopping and starting and showing no concern whatsoever regarding the fact that they were obstructing others. The world began and ended with them. When a lady asked them to please move so she could park they displayed disdain and actually slowed down so she had to wait even longer. Eventually they found it in their heart to go inside the store where they continued to obstruct others in various ways. Dressed in designer clothing.

I did my shopping and went to the check out to pay for my goods with hard earned cash. As it was, the two leisurely people dressed in designer clothes were in line just ahead of me. They had two purchases, neither of which qualified for their government card. They put up such a fuss the manager was called to quell the situation. I don't know how it ended, they were still going at it when I left.

Here is my point: (You knew I was going to make one eventually) The two leisurely folks and politicians have something in common. Neither of them realizes that it ain't their money! In all my born days, I do not recall a politician being anywhere near what I would consider being "Grateful" for any money derived from our hard earned tax dollars. Stuff like that is what goes through my mind when I have too much time on my hands and watch TV or go to the grocery store.

Tennis, Now That's funny!

Tennis is a physically demanding, strategic and skillful sport. Running back and forth, swatting a ball, aiming correctly and putting the shot where the other player isn't and avoiding the embarrassing love thing. The sport where an athlete making love is not the desired outcome. I never could figure that thing out. What's the reasoning behind calling it love in the first place? Is tennis a French game maybe? Anyway, I am finding tennis a very humorous game of late. In the past I watched tennis matches because of the skills involved and the intensity with which it was played. It's not football or baseball or college basketball but excellent on the field of competitiveness. Clothing was always on the edge of modesty for the ladies but acceptable. The modesty thing went out the window a few years back. Being a guy I guess I can put up with it for the sake of the sport. Kind of like ice skating. Now, in recent times the players, almost collectively have decide to grunt the most annoying sounds as they whack that poor tennis ball across the net. The story goes that their trainers say that the grunting noise gives them more power.....................but some winning players don't grunt. Either way I have now come to the conclusion that if I haven't found any reason to smile on a given day, and a tennis match is being televised, That's where I turn the channel. Grunt: Whoo! Grunt: Whee! Grunt: EEEooo! Grunt: OOOeeow! Grunt UUUUhhh! You simply can't listen to that for a match without splitting a gut laughing.  That's my opinion and I'm sticking to it. Have a wonderful day and if you need a laugh you need look no further than the tennis court...

Trivial, nonsensical pondering

I wonder about, "not so important" stuff sometimes. Not quite sure why I do it. After all, life is complicated enough without wondering about trivial details. I continue to wonder though. Back when I was a kid, Catholic nuns wore habits. A sort of uniform that covered everything except their hands and face. It must have required a great deal of discipline to wear those habits in hot weather. I wondered though in the first few weeks of Catholic school, in first grade whether the nuns had real ears like you and me. I was fortunate enough to have a much older brother who was in second grade and had attended Catholic school for two whole grades already. He straightened me out so I didn't wonder any more. Nuns did indeed have ears, but those ears were huge, strange looking and turned on swivels or something. They got those ears when they turned into a nun. I mean no disrespect to those devoted nuns, it's just the type of rumor that went around in the little kid environment of parochial school halls.

As time goes on I still wonder about things that need not concern me but the subject matter changes. For instance, when an ant eater eats ants with it's long tongue, how does it get rid of the sand in his mouth? I mean like, ants live in sand and dirt don't they? That ant eater sticks it's tongue down into the ant hole and licks out the ants. It's just got to get a rash of sand and dirt along with the ants right? If I was an ant eater I think eating sand would be a major issue wouldn't it? And another thing: When lions and tigers and wolves and bears catch and eat other animals, do they discard certain parts of the victim or do they simply indiscriminately eat the entire carcass? What determines when the carcass becomes too "spoiled" to eat? Are there any "desert" parts? Does an ant eater prefer certain ant species over others? And then there are the moles that run amok in our lawns and flower beds. Have you ever considered what they are looking for exactly besides grubs? Not necessarily something to eat mind you but whatever they find so interesting to keep them rummaging through the ground. Or, is it possible that they may find the world up top rather disgusting and repulsive? Now there is a thought that at times I may agree with what with the words displayed on t-shirts on airplanes these days. But perhaps that's something I shouldn't wonder about. It would be better to spend my time pondering just who designed the stripes on a Zebra. Yeah, there ya go...........Have a great holiday weekend.

Gardening and life are personal

Leave my garden alone!! I don't want anyone messing with my garden, period! Stay out!

I've been gardening since I was a kid. My first ever produce, grown all by myself was a pumpkin. From then on I was hooked. Not having to rely on gardening to feed me allowed plenty of room for experimentation. My gardens have experienced varying degrees of success and failure. My worst failures have mostly resulted from crowding plants together during the planting stage. I have difficulty imagining the expansion of a plant as the growing season moves along. But, I always have hope that I did it right when each year begins. Gardening is a wonderful thing and my table has been blessed with mounds of vegetables and fruits fresh from those gardens. As a matter of fact, family, friends and neighbors have also enjoyed much of the healthy and flavorful benefits of my faithful gardening. Everyone benefits. But I want everyone to stay away from my garden.

The past couple of years some very well intended people have been offering advice and assistance to me in getting my garden in order. "Put this plant here, put that seed there, measure, fertilize, stake, weed and thin. Let me help you harvest it.You'll have a beautiful garden for once and we can all have better vegetables too." Jeez, Louise! Leave me alone, will ya? Truthfully, if I wanted a perfect garden I am totally capable of creating it. I really am! I totally appreciate the helpful folks that want to solve what they see as my problem. It's great to have people around that care about me and what I do. Wonderful as it is, I don't want their help. Let me alone when I'm in my garden. In my garden, I rule! I also accept all the consequences of my actions and decisions. My garden is my little slice of sanity in an otherwise confusing world. The government, as yet has not drawn up enough laws to mess up my gardening. I am still free to succeed or fail on my own. That's why I don't want anyone telling me what to do. It makes me feel too much like control. I don't want to be controlled or taken care of.

I enjoy the food from my garden. I grew it, for better or worse. When I have surplus, which is most of the time, I share it with everyone in sight. Many times, placing a bag of fresh goodies on someones porch anonymously so when they come home or wake up they have a tasty surprise. I like doing that. Sure, most of them know right away who put it there but usually they honor my desire to be an unknown benefactor. It's more fun that way. The people that wanted to help me out also expressed how they would help me distribute the harvest. I didn't like that either. When you give someone something from your surplus it's fun. When you are "told" to divide up the entire harvest the fun fades really fast.

That's my take on the gardening thing for today. I passed on the helpful hands offered me by caring and considerate people. I am in the midst of putting my garden together and planting shoots and seeds and fertilizing and all sorts of weeding and tilling and staking and stuffing seeds, plants and bulbs way too close together. I don't know what the harvest will be this year but I know it will be mine to do with what I want. There is a lot to be said for that feeling. As I said: "I love ya dearly but stay the heck out of my garden."

Laws, how many is too many?

I wonder sometimes if the often spoken statement about the U.S of A. becoming a nation of unenforceable laws is true. We have local, district, state and even national police, hard working and dedicated roaming around with a ten inch thick book of laws to enforce. My Gosh! How can they function? Silly laws, important laws, short laws, rambling laws, laws with so many technical aspects even the lawmakers don't understand them. I guess the case could be made that an officer could designate most anything as illegal and be close to one law or another. You can't fly a kite or ride a bike, utter a name or remark, drive a car or go fishing without fear of breaking this or that law. Getting through a day without doing at least one thing wrong is almost impossible in my opinion.

Oh, the heck with it! I'm probably breaking a law right now. That's probably why it's so difficult to publish my postings. Here goes again.

Posting, publishing, blogging, failing

My typing is slow, my thoughts well considered, my actions deliberate and cautious, in spite of all that my postings are sometimes great, sometimes rambling. When I consider that anything I publish here will be someplace forever I do my level best not to make a fool of myself. Sometimes I succeed. I enjoy blogging. It is a much needed diversion in a normally busy and chaotic life style. In a perfect world I would have enough time to complete my next installment of Joe's Story, tweek the children's books I've already written and have them published, complete my bicycle trip around Lake Michigan and have time left over to sip an ice tea on the back veranda. That is if I actually had a back veranda. Blogging helps me through the reality of actual time limitations and dreams not being fulfilled. It's pretty close to being 'fun."

Yesterday, once again I woke up early, my mind filled to overflowing with hope and looking forward to sharing an extremely humorous story with you about the wonders and safety warnings of sugar and salt. There are times when everything falls together and posting become memorable and well worth any one's read. Yesterday was one of those times. Laborious and time consuming but filled with my own laughter I pressed on in my mission of sharing the words that flowed from my mind and onto the screen. I was in a zone I tell you. It was incredible, profound and, dare I say hilarious. Then came time to click on the "Publish" icon.

I have to figure out just what I'm doing wrong here because for the umpteenth time my hours of typing and composition dissolved into never never land and are gone forever. Such was my experience yesterday. It took me a few minutes to absorb the consequences of my lack of computer skills. On to another day. I find the whole thing rather humorous now that it's over. Rather, but not completely. Somewhere there is a computer gremlin laughing his butt off reading the posting he stole from me. Now I get to click on the publish icon again and see what happens. If you read this it worked. If you don't, it didn't.

Is America ready for a king?

The discussion between the fella's setting around the table in the neighborhood gathering place, "Maria's Breakfast Nook" was rather intense. Each morning you'll find the guys meeting there for an order of Maria's famous "Gut Busting, Man Pleasing, Mom's Style breakfast." It consists of 4 eggs, 3 pancakes, 4 sausage links, 4 slices of bacon, American fried potatoes, 4 slices of homemade toast, orange juice and coffee. Did I say that the fellas were a bit on the portly side? Besides the food they were there to solve the problems of the world. In case you didn't know, most guys are more than willing to devise a solution to any situation you may reveal. Warriors and Kings is what most guys are. Warriors and Kings have gone to war since the beginning of time to solve problems. Why would they change now?

A king is the answer, they said in unison. A look of amazement and then victory came across their faces. The solution was at hand. The words flew and buzzed back and forth like bees surrounding the hive. Why is a kingdom the answer? Common sense they said in between bites of that suculant breakfast fare. Just think about it! A kingdom has less expenses because the entire government is run by one guy. (They decided earlier that a queen just wouldn't do because they share and adapt too easily). The decisions of a kingdom would be made almost instantly because it wouldn't be watered down by a lot of politicians (hoping to be re-elected) offering a thousand other alternatives to simple questions which are most often answered by yes, or no!

They were on a roll now, the atmosphere was one of enlightment, the voices louder and the gestures more animated. The point was made that in a closely held corporation, success lasted longer and finances grew and grew because there wasn't the totally uneccessary bickering back and forth between a lot of management with unfounded feelings of empowerment. That's what government does, gives way too  much power and entitlement to people that have no other agenda beside personal gain and ego fulfillment. Ooooh! They just may have come upon a solution to our present financial quandry.

As the fellas dispersed to wherever it was they went to for the rest of the day they were satisfied that their Kings and Warriors type of wisdom, if properly implemented would make America a better place. "Elect a King, give him a bunch of warriors and quell the fury." Now, tomorrow it will all be forgotten of course and the discussion will turn to other matters such as sports, motorized tools or another topic of the day. That's the nice thing about being one of the fellas. Solutions don't necessarily have to be put into action. Even if they are profound.