Thursday, October 24, 2013


I drove to the local grocery store today to drop off one of my prescriptions. Don't worry, I'm not going to die. My cholesterol just needs to be kept under control. I slide into the parking lot and see the parking signs which I detest: Courtesy parking for pharmacy customers.

Really? This particular store also has spaces set apart for pregnant women. I see these all the time and I just hate them. I don't have an issue with handicapped (I'm sure someone will take offense to that word but that's what they are) parking spaces but do you need 50,000 of them all across the front of a store? No. Most of them are empty anyway. The first time I saw the pregnancy signs, I about ran one over. I thought exercise was good for preggers. I think it's ridiculous to have so many reserved spaces.

And before you get all mad at me because I'm insensitive to the plight of others, it's not really about the parking spaces at a grocery store. It's about society as a whole who believe they need something special because they have this issue or that. I'm this or that and I have to have someone treat me different because I'm too lazy or stupid to help myself. What ever happened to the notion of taking care of yourself? Why does everyone feel they need special treatment? There are very few people who I believe can't take care of themselves and yes, those people need the help. I'd put that number at a very low single-digit percentage. I think all the rest are just simply lazy and attention-grabbers. As a local radio host I listen to often says; "it's the wussification of America". (check out  @Commonmanradio  97.1 the fan, Columbus, OH).

And for the record, I parked a little further out and didn't park in the pharmacy spaces. Gosh, those five extra steps nearly killed me.

Saturday, October 19, 2013


This ramble began with an innocent comment from My Beloved early this morning; I heard a 'beep' last night. Consider this sound we have now become so used to. Everywhere you turn in our modern world, you hear a beep. Beeps come from your phone, they come from your car, smoke detectors, alarm clocks, alarms and so many other innocuous devices that we pay little attention to them. We are inundated with this sound.

When you think about it, the earth is reported to be 4.5 billion years old (give or take). For all of those millions upon millions of years, as our planet went through the various eras and epochs, and where life emerged about one billion years ago (the first signs of algae and other primitive life, I believe), until about sixty years ago, never in the history of the planet was there a 'beep'. Well, where did it come from then?

We are now in the electronic age. We have circuit boards and knobs and blinking lights and everything that comes along with them. I wonder who heard the first beep? I would think it was someone involved with the building of ENIAC or the component parts before that. Although, with vacuum tubes, I don't know that ENIAC would have made that sound. It may not have come until that system evolved.

Along with that, who decided that sound should be called a 'beep'? If you hear it, it sounds like 'eep'. Why do we need a 'b' in front of it? I think it should be considered an accomplishment or an honor to be the first person in recorded history to hear a certain sound.

Unless of course you believe in aliens like my friend Sharon. Then, beeps were likely around before that. She may even have heard them.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Old habits die hard

Wife: What are you doing?
Me: Nothing. Uhm, why?
Wife: Why are you standing there?
Me: I'm eating.
Wife: I can see that. Why are you standing over the sink?
Me: I'm eating.
Wife: I can see that. Why don't you sit down?
Me: Then I'd have to get a plate.
Wife: So?
Me: It'll get dirty.
Wife: I know that.
Me: I'd have to clean it.
Wife: So?
Me: It's easier this way.

Okay, that discussion never really happened but could on any given night that I get home from work after she gets ready for bed. It's surprising how often I eat over a sink when My Beloved is out of town.

So what's the point of this, you ask? It's simple actually, because I'm fairly simple. I paid a visit to my doctor the other day to have my usual checkup. You know, blood pressure, weight, cold stethoscope on the chest. I have a few mild ailments at my age; cholesterol the most pressing. It runs in my family. I suppose for an older guy, I'm in relatively descent shape.

My biggest issue is, I still kinda eat like a seven year old. We didn't have much growing up. I relied on hot dogs and peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches and bologna for lunches most of the time. Those habits die hard. I'll come home late and eat just that, a nice PB and J with cold grape jelly. Yum! Breakfast is usually corn flakes or something similar. On a good day, I get raisins! I have weened myself off of Capn' Crunch in the last few years, so, I'm making progress.

My Beloved makes fun of me as I have a tendency to 'graze' in the kitchen. Every time I walk through I snag something and pop it in my mouth, just like a seven year old. You'd think I should weigh 300 pounds but a walking job keeps me in check. Without that, I likely would. I suppose as the years creep up on me, I do need to become more selective in what I eat ...

I really should, I really should, I really should. If I say it, does it make it so? Likely not.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

The rules

Sports has been ongoing in my life to some extent since I was a little boy. I don't get to play much anymore, but I keep up on things. In my formative years, baseball was my game. I started at eight years old playing organized ball and hung up my glove a year after school. Although I never played at the highest levels, I know the game. I'm old.

Recently, much is being made of the unwritten rules in baseball. Players get mad at another on an opposing team because he did this or that. As these recent events have come to light, I thought I would have my own say. Mostly, I just don't agree with the complainers.

Yes, there are 'unwritten rules', but they have been bastardized by whiners and cry-babies. These 'rules' are really about sportsmanship. There are things you do in the heat of a close game you don't do when one team is getting the snot kicked out of them. You don't steal bases late in games when up by a ton of runs. That's bad sportsmanship; that's rubbing it in. That's like going for two after a touchdown when you are winning by 45 points. You don't taunt the other team. That's bush-league

Some of the supposedly 'new' unwritten rules aren't correct. You CAN block the plate in a close game. The catcher is trying to stop you from scoring. If you don't like it, run his ass over. You CAN bunt to break up a no-hitter. It's YOUR JOB to get on base any way you can. It's okay to clap your hands after you drove in some runs or hit a homer. That's not showing up the pitcher, that's celebrating YOUR success. If the pitcher has a problem with that, he should have thrown a better pitch. What, you don't like someone pausing to watch their home-run? Think that's a classless act? Really! How many times do you remember Reggie Jackson just dropping the bat and watching his ball carry over the wall? It happened all the time. What he didn't do was point a finger at the pitcher. That would be classless and unsportsmanlike.

If you don't want the other team celebrating, do your job better. It's not unsportsmanlike, it sports. Winner takes all.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

A new phone

It's going to happen, likely very soon. Within the next week or so, okay, perhaps ten days or so, I will be giving up my Jerry Jones flip-phone. I'll be joining the world of the smart-phone.

Hey, if a flip-phone is good enough for a billionaire, why isn't it good enough for me? Well, there are several reasons actually. I have had several instances of people sending me texts that come across as picture mail and I can't read them. At a business conference earlier this year, every time my boss sent out a text for our group of managers to meet at a time or place, I couldn't read it. (Thankfully, I always had one of them in sight. A bar is a good way to make sure that happens).

Although I don't surf the net when I'm not on a computer, mostly at home, there are times when I could have used such a service. Often it is when I need directions or an address. Most other times, I think it's a waste of my time. I'm not judging you, you can do what you want. I'm simply not a slave to technology. It's useful yes, but I have no interest in being continually logged on to the internet 24/7.

Sometimes I wonder how folks become to addicted to their phones. I saw a video today (on my computer) about a woman who went through her day and was surrounded by others who stopped being social because their attention was always on their phone. Now, I understand how technology can be useful, but what does it say about our society? Are we so unhappy with our lives we long for something else? We long for others to contact us? What's wrong with those in the room? It seems we no longer live in the moment with those around us.

Believe me, I'm not that important and I'd rather talk to you than a phone. Sure technology is helpful, it lets all you fine readers of this blog go out and buy my e-books ☺ !

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Butt head

I'm free! Free at last!

Well, it's been a long time. Years ago, I was a smoker. I smoked for twenty-five years. It was odd that I started in that, although my parents were smokers, none of my siblings ever took up the habit. Yes, I was the black-sheep. Back then, in the before-times, my sainted parents were the norm. Nearly all my forty aunts and uncles were smokers as well. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Hell, it was the sixties and seventies.

Just recently as I was driving home from work, I was stopped beside a young lady who was smoking in her car. She pulled in deeply as we waited on the light. She held it, then slowly sent a pillow of white into the air. While, even after twelve years of freedom from this habit, I could still feel the smoke within my mouth. I thought, YUCK!

To be honest, I don't know how my Beloved put up with kissing me. She never said a word about it. She was never a smoker, but somehow she loved me enough to dismiss my awful habit. I am fortunate that I have my health and have beaten whatever effects this had on me. It took me over a year to finally quit. I tried three times before it took. I don't know how she put up with me, although I wasn't a heavy smoker, I think smokers would be off my list if I were a single man. (Though, that's never going to happen).

I know some still think smoking is manly, or even sexy or a cool thing to do, but ... YUCK!

Thursday, October 3, 2013

The open road

Ever since I bought my first car, I have always loved the feeling of driving and the open road. There is no greater sense of freedom than having the windows down on a crisp autumn day as you roll down the road. I love the whipping of the wind, the rush of acceleration as you cruise along a two-lane road that turns just a little bit here and there.

Unfortunately, that scenario no longer seems to exist, at least in my part of the world. My daily rides are now reduced to going back and forth from home to work. I jump on a crowded road at 6am and venture forth. At least I know that at this time of day, everyone is doing the same thing; trying to get somewhere. The same is true for leaving work; everyone is trying to get somewhere. They are like me, in a hurry.

Ya know what I can't stand? I can't stand driving after 10am. Have you ever tried to get somewhere after the rush-hour traffic? Can't be done. Why you ask? There surely aren't as many cars on the road. Well, that would be a true statement. What you do find is ... pokey-man and pokey-woman. You know them, the people in life that have nowhere to be or nowhere to go. It seems they just amble about and get in the way of folks who need to get somewhere. These are the people who drive below the speed limit, start braking at every traffic light, even if it's still green, and never, ever accelerate when getting onto a freeway.

Remember the last time you had an open two-lane road ahead of you full of breezy turns and curves? Yeah, me neither. I can't get around the pokey fart in front of me.