A one-way street

The blustery month of February has rolled around again and that means only one thing. We're stuck with Valentine's Day again.

Now on the surface I don't have a problem with the notion of this holiday. I love my wife and am fine with the concept of a special day for those who are 'involved'. However, you don't need to have a calendar day devoted just to that. And that goes for Sweetest Day too. Truth be told, My Beloved and I don't celebrate VDay too much as our wedding anniversary is on February 1.

The biggest problem I have with this holiday is that it has become so one-sided. Think about it. When was the last time you remember seeing a commercial or a radio spot that wasn't aimed directly at the man? Can't think of one, can ya? Nope, every man is inundated with ads for jewelry, candy, flowers and cards. Take her out to dinner and make her feel special. Well, what about us? I can't recall the last time I saw a commercial aimed at the women to make the man feel special. Ladies, go to the local hardware store and buy your guy a tool! He'll love it.

The trouble is, advertising execs are targeting the wrong person. Women do all the shopping for extraneous items such as holiday fare. Most men I know only buy when they think of something they need and the constant reminders only make us (me) aggravated. This constant prodding does little for me other than make me want to boycott you products altogether.

Come on girls, time for a manly steak dinner! (and a new tech toy)

A weighty subject

In the ever on-going play we call 'getting older', My Beloved and I have both stepped up and are trying to eat a healthier diet and lose a few extra pounds. Her office staff is doing a Biggest Loser contest. So far she is making headway with the leaders. She has also been attending an aerobics class. She is the one who inspired me to pitch in and get a little healthier.

To that end, I retired our old spring-loaded Metro scale and went out and purchased a new one. It has performed well over the years but it's time for change. As well, Ragin' Cage uses it for a bouncy toy when he brushes his teeth. The new ones's all fancy and shiny. It has the newest accoutrements such as being able to set your own height and age. All very nice but that lets you at least track your progress. I tend to think like clocks in your house, no two scales weigh someone the same. In my opinion they are at least close and you use them to calculate change rather than rely on that number as absolutely accurate.

As I excitedly unwrapped the box and read the instructions for programming, I took note of the features. You can measure weight (obviously), body fat percentage and muscle percentage. My body fat percentage was higher than I hoped. (I'll be working on that one). Then as I read on, the instructions on muscle percentage stated there are no standard guidelines for this measurement.

You're kidding, right? So I go to a handy-dandy internet search (notice I didn't say Google) and, I can find no particular guidelines for how much percentage of muscle a person should have. How is it a product touts a feature right on the front of the box that has no standard of measurement known to mankind?

Wow do I feel duped.

Suffer the children

One of the wonders of the modern age is the personal computer, and close behind is the spread of information on the internet, some of it actually useful.

I can easily confess to being ignorant as to how to write programming code and being able to solve the many riddles that come up while doing so. I am certain the techies all have their quirks, and I also believe these quirks are often expressed in the programs they write for the Great Unwashed to use.

One example I encounter on a daily basis, whether on my home pc or the one I used back in the day when I was gainfully employed, was the ever-popular Delete box for e-mails. We have all seen it, and have dumped untold thousands of e-mails into the Delete box regularly. I am certain you have seen the quirk as well: next to the Delete box is quite often a number in bold parenthesis, purporting at first glance to show the number of e-mails you have in said Delete box. Here is where the quirk comes in; that bold number actually shows the number of unread e-mails in the Delete box, not the total number of e-mails residing therein. I cannot fathom why it matters to someone, whether me or a programmer, how many unread e-mails are presently in that file. I know they are unread, because they are 99.999% spam or junk e-mails that I put in there myself, precisely because they were unwanted. I also am unsure why it would matter how many I have in there, read or unread.

I can only think a computer nerd did it simply because he is a computer nerd, and needs to get out more into the real world.

Alternate surf sounds

Sometimes we all fall into patterns and thoughts that are due solely to preferences. What do we like; what do we love? Why would someone do something like that? I just can't imagine!

I had such an experience the other day. Now, being from the midwest I do not have access to wonderful beaches and sun-filled skies during the winter months. That being said, I don't have access to wonderful beaches in the summer months either. That is the prejudice I faced while walking a long stretch of sand along the gulf shores of Florida this past week. We midwesterners suffer through the lack of sand and water all our lives. My favorite vacations and trips for that reason always are those that take me to far-away locals of sun-drenched beaches and white sands.

As My Beloved and I sauntered along one such beach on our anniversary week, we passed an older gentleman who purposefully strode by us while listening to headphones. His tanned form presented to us he likely lived here and did this often. He, as many others we passed during the week had something plugged into their ear holes. That is something I couldn't understand. Why would anyone walk along the shore and not listen to the sounds of waves rolling up to their feet?

About a half-hour later he passed us again (as you have to turn around to go back) paying no attention to us as he sang opera with a knowing voice. I guess that's as good a reason as any.

Hand in Hand

There are those who walk in front of others, there are some who walk behind. I have discovered the only way to walk with the one you love is side-by-side.

Happy Twentieth Wedding Anniversary, My Beloved.

Living in a Punkin Bread World II

Wonderful Daughter and her children will accompany Eric the Tall as he goes on a business trip to Chicago next month.

Punkin Bread, apparently thinking ahead, asked Mommy, "Does Chicago have ice cream?"
The answer was yes, to which she asked, "Even white ice cream?"

Her Mommy told me, "We're going to Chicago, not Mars!"

Is there no ice cream on Mars?

Me, myself and us

If you had a choice to spend an hour, a day or a week with someone, who would it be? Would you spend it with yourself? Now, I'm sure you're thinking that's an odd question. It is, if you are not a twin. Most of us can be alone with our thoughts, seclude ourselves away for a short time but we are never really with 'ourselves'.

Could you spend a day with yourself, talking side by side like you would anyone else? I had this thought not long ago as I watched Sergetov and Ivan playing with each other. They are my twin great nephews. As they get older they will likely be side by side in all they do. That seems to be the nature of twins. For one thing, they would be used to the fact that they are generally the same individual, although they have slight differing traits even though they are identical twins. North of 50 can usually tell them apart if they are together, as his post a few days ago will attest.

But, how would the rest of us do? You might think you would love to talk to yourself, laugh at the same jokes, but would that get old? Would I get on my own nerves after a time? I tend to be a bit snide and sarcastic at times likely causing me to want to punch myself. I will never have a sibling as close as a twin although North is as close as I'll get. We grew up only three years apart, but that three years makes a world of difference as life experiences move on. His experiences were always before mine, never experiencing the same things in the moment at the same time. My Beloved and I have been together now for twenty years of wedded bliss. She is a strong person in her own right and we have similarities but we also have enough differences that make life interesting.

I don't know if I would want to spend a long time with myself. Likely, I would be a really good friend that could enjoy some very special times but I don't think I could put up with myself all the time.