Busy-ness…

Well, well, well… look who is posting! Yes, I know… few and far between. I found that there is a direct relationship between the average length of one’s posts and the time between posts (the longer the average post size, the longer between posts) and also, the length of time between posts (the longer it has been since you posted… the longer it tends to be before your next post).

This isn’t rocket science but I find it is interesting the inertia which sets up against something I actually like and want to do… bla… bla… bla…

Well, that isn’t really the reason for this quick post. You see, my wife just called in a panic. She said a black bear was walking around the yard and wanted me to call the police to get an animal control officer there since this is the time of morning when a lot of kids are outside waiting for the school bus.

Animal control does not start in our town until 9:00 a.m., so I called the police dispatch. “Hello, officer? There is a black bear walking around our yard and we live in a large development with lots of kids outside waiting for the school bus. I think you should get someone over there to make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Officer’s reply: “Just stay away from it. That’s generally the best thing. It is just looking for food and will wonder back into the woods once it has something to eat.” Me: “Ya, but what if that happens to be a school kid?” Officer: “Oh, this is typical for this time of year. Just ignore him. It will be fine.”

Hmmm… Now maybe I’m overly paranoid… Perhaps if I lived in Alaska I’d be sitting down and letting bears eat out of my lap as I sipped on a beer while lying in the afternoon sun… But there is something about hungry, large, wild animals with reputations for being aggressive, that doesn’t seem (in my mind) to go comfortably with small children waiting for school buses… call me a fuddy-duddy.

The Anal Probing is Over…

Yes, yes… the anal probing is over. Our IRS audit has finished… Oh… my last prostate exam also turned out okay. As far as that goes, it seems that an irritated bladder lining can also create the same sensations as prostatitis and all the bitter tea I had been drinking was irritating my bladder lining. I guess that’s one for “all in moderation”. Anyway, I feel lucky that I have a urologist who thinks outside the prostate. So many doctors are so anxious to prescribe medication or surgery, that it is extremely fortunate to have one that really wants to know what they are treating before they jump to conclusions.

So… back to the REAL anal probing… the audit. I mean, yes, the prostate exam is embarrassing, awkward, humiliating and an entire range of other human emotions but for sheer abject terror… there is nothing like the dreaded IRS audit. At least with the prostate exam, you know the doctor is going to leave everything where it is. When the IRS goes up your butt, there is that fear that they will take something you need… like your liver, lungs, heart or endocrine system.

In our case, we got off easy… if you can call $5,700 and change “easy”. The auditor actually turned out to be a nice lady and she and my wife hit it off. Fortunately, the auditor did not elect to inflict a penalty, which she could have. So… all in all… we have to say, we made an innocent mistake and are paying what we owe (plus interest). It was fair. I got a new set of underwear and an appreciation for cpa’s out of the deal and the government got what was coming to them. Everyone is happy… not an awful, though still terrifying, experience. All’s well that ends well. Now we just need to find the money to make the payment… argh….

On a related note… my four and a half year old car has just gone over 200,000 miles. That is approximately 77 trips across America (for those of you who have trouble imaging what that actually relates to)… just in case you think I might be relaxing in my old age… too bad car dealers don’t give you frequent driving miles… that would be cool, wouldn’t it?

Finally, the answer to my riddle a few postings ago:

If you want to find a single heavy ball among nine identical balls and only have a balance scale which you can only use twice… here is the solution. First, split the balls in three groups of three. Put two groups on the scale… one on each side. If the scale balances, then the heavy ball is in your hand. If one side of the scale tips down… then that set of three has the heavy ball. So now that you know which group has the heavy ball, repeat the same process except using single balls from the group that contains the heavy ball. One ball on each side of the scale and one in your hand. If the two on the scale balance, then the one in your hand is the heavy ball. If one of the balls on the scale is heavier than the other, the scale will indicate that. Either way… you will know which of the nine balls is uniquely heavy and you can pass your application test and become employed (hopefully).

Peace out….

Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart”… The Way it Should Have Been

Okay… I know, I know… there is this rule that you don’t post something that has already gone viral… But, I just saw this for the first time and nearly wet myself.

If you lived through the totally cheesy, spandex 80’s… this Bud’s for you. Enjoy

(Shout out to “Literal Video” and Dascottjr who rewrote the lyrics).

Kurt Cobain…

Kurt Cobain was a moment in time for me… When I hear his music, I’m immediately transported back in time… to a time… that despite many trials and tribulations, I loved.

I was living in Portland, Oregon and Kurt, along with his band Nirvana, was at the head of the pack of some pretty amazing music that was coming out of the Northwest.

I’m sure the music wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but for me, it hit the right spot. It was something new under the sun and it pretty much marked that period for me.

It is interesting how a person or a band can become a phenomenon… something bigger than life… For whatever reason the world latched on to Kurt for a ride and the sheer weight of that took its toll.

Kurt was a victim of his own success perhaps… and now he is but a tragic figure in music history, having taken his own life on April 5th 1994… Already more than fifteen years ago… I still can’t think of him or my life in Portland, Oregon without the two being linked… I’m sure it will always be that way.

I heard a song by Cat Power yesterday which made me remember Kurt… It was written about him and is called “I Don’t Blame You”. The song made me feel sad… Sad for him… and a little sad for a time which has passed when life was a little more simple, if only in my mind.

Life can be a sad thing sometimes… but even in that sadness… it is hard not to be moved by its beauty… Here is the song by Cat Power with a video of Kurt and the lyrics below….

Last time I saw you, you were on stage
Your hair was wild, your eyes were red
You were in a rage
You were swinging your guitar around.
Cause they wanted to hear that sound
That you didn’t want to play.
I don’t blame you.

I don’t blame you.

Been around the world, in many situations
Been inside many heads in different positions
But you never wanted them that way.
What a cruel price you thought that you had to pay.
And that for all that shit on stage.

But it never made sense to them anyway,
Could you imagine when they turned their backs
They were only scratching their heads.
Cause you simply deserve the best.
And I don’t blame you

They said you were the best,
But then they were only kids
Then you would recall the deadly houses you grew up in
Just because they knew your name,
Doesn’t mean they know from where you came
What a sad trick you thought that you had to play.
But I don’t blame you

They never owned it
And you never owed it to them anyway.

I don’t blame you.

Pet Peeves…

I don’t know why… but lately I have been noticing things… things which get under my skin… Things that don’t make sense, but are there none the less like a burr under a saddle… a pea under a mattress… a fly in the ointment… stupid, silly, ridiculous stuff… Small or large… I’ve decided to start pointing these “head scratchers” out… because, quite frankly, they get under my skin and venting a little always helps… doesn’t it?

Okay… first pet peeve… I’ll call this pet peeve number one, though the number one is just because it was the first one I thought about but is by no means my “number 1″ pet peeve. Okay… a couple of weekends ago I did a craft show for my wife in Stone Mountain, Georgia… beautiful spot… hot and humid weather… very “summer like”. As I finish my rather lengthy set up and begin to settle down for four long days of sitting in a craft tent and hocking our wares… I hear loud music coming from the vendor beside me… CHRISTMAS MUSIC!

Now… most shows do not allow vendors to play music because it isn’t exactly polite to the vendors within ear-shot and if everyone wanted to play their own music, you would have quite a din… a cacophony of sound… and most vendors understand this and are sensitive and self-aware enough to restrain themselves… not so my neighbors.

Now I am a wimp respect people and their stupid hair brained desires and I get that they were selling Christmas things… but holy crap… Not only were they playing Christmas music… they were playing only ONE 40 minute tape of Christmas music over and over and over again… not ONLY that, it was from the forties or fifties and the Partridge in a Pear Tree was swapped with “The Good Bible of My Lord”… that doesn’t even fit… AND… AND… the tape was stretched!!!!! So not only did I listen to the SAME God awful Christmas tape from half a century ago for ten hours a day non-stop for four days… but it was speeding up and slowing down. They might as well have hammered a nail into my eardrum or put bamboo under my fingernails or water-boarded me (actually the water boarding might have been nice, as hot as it was). THAT is my pet peeve number one. People not being aware enough of others around them because of their own self-interest or because they just can’t empathize with others. Horrible! Bad, damaged Christmas music in September? PLEASE! I didn’t even mention that the craft show had country music performers playing throughout the weekend about 150 feet from us… so you got this nice mix of insipid noise blasting at you in an already uncomfortable situation (sitting in a craft tent ten hours a day). Nice…

Oh… here is another thing… not quite on the same scale. I’ll call this pet peeve number two. On the other side of me were two very nice people… We did a lot of talking… commiserating… and rolling our eyes at the Christmas music couple. They told me about their life and I told them about mine… And as we were leaving… and bidding fair-thee-well, the woman (very nice woman), says to me… “Say hello to your wife and family for me”…. What?…. “Hey, Hon… this woman you never met asked that I say hello to you and the kids”. Pet peeve number three is when I do that.

Oh… and before I go… Here is another… pet peeve number 4. My niece has started high school this year. She told me yesterday that all students… teachers… and staff… are required to wear ID badges while at school. Now look… I’m all for protecting our kids… believe me… and I understand where this badge thing comes from… I get it… but where do we draw the line? Is it safer to have everyone wear badges at school? Yes… probably. But isn’t it also safer to have them all wear bullet proof vests? What about helmets? Do you know that I had an English teacher in prep-school who walked out of the library building… tripped on the steps… hit his head on a rock and died? Really… an awful tragedy… he had a three year old son… If he had worn a helmet, that could have been prevented. He would still be with us today… But that would be insane, wouldn’t it?

Where do we stop with all this? Somebody has to draw the line and increasingly, it seems that no one wants to draw that line in a reasonable place… Everyone blames everyone else for their accidents and misfortunes, so no one wants to be reasonable any more…

Okay… that about wraps it up for today… and to be completely honest… pet peeve number 5 would probably be listening to other people’s pet peeves.

Bored to Death…

The purpose of this post is not to bore you to death… so I apologize ahead of time, because this is a little boring… Okay, okay… it is really boring, but also very important. The below video is an extremely long but interesting presentation on the effects of processed sugars on our bodies.

I’m not a nature or diet zealot. I was a vegetarian for a while during my life but I’m not any more… but I do care about my health and the health of my family and others and the evidence (scientific) as to the negative effects of fructose and other sugars on the body (I am talking about sugar which has been separated from the fiber in which it is usually contained and which (the fiber) is able to counter the negative effects) are so profound that I felt I had to pass this information along.

The below video is a presentation by a rather pompous but intelligent Doctor/Scientist which describes, explains and presents the science, research and studies that back up his evidence in such overwhelming amounts that it is difficult to question. If you can’t get through the entire hour and a half… at least look at the last thirty minutes… it may improve the quality and length of your life and the lives of your loved ones.

Driving Back In Time…

A few weeks ago, on a Friday evening after work, I was driving toward the Cape… Cape Cod, for those of you not in New England and therefore do not understand that “The Cape” could mean nothing else; just like people from Memphis know that “The King” means Elvis… People from New England know that “The Cape” means Cape Code and “The Vineyard” means Martha’s Vineyard… the island just off the coast of the Southern “Cape”… magnet to Presidents, movie starts and Brazilians.

I digress…

So… it was after work and I was driving the God awful Route 95 on a Friday evening… the going was slow. The sky was clear and although it was shaping up to be one of the hottest weekends of the summer… summer was winding down. You could smell dead leaves in the air and the evening had that “Indian Summer” feel to it… A feeling I both love and hate, as it marks the close of summer, the return to school, the end of play and the “all-to-soon” onset of winter…

But my mind was drifting as it often does on long drives and stop-and-go traffic (my sincere apologies to the countless motorists who have looked into their rear view mirrors only to see me grinding my breaks at the last minute to avoid rear-ending them… my bad).

The sun is setting a little earlier these days and as I neared the southern turn onto Route 24 from Route 195, the sky was an eerie dark blue with clouds still lit from the setting sun which had since abandoned my latitude, giving one the sense that gazing at the clouds was akin to looking up out of a deep hole. The twilight flittered and fluttered, creating an unusual sense of the surreal… Suddenly, it struck me… I was about to pass within a mile of my old prep-school Tabor Academy.

It had been decades since I graduated from Tabor… yet Tabor remains one of “those experiences” in one’s life… at least in my life. At the age of 14, I left home to live and board at Tabor… in many respects it was the end of my childhood… the beginning of my adulthood… Looking back on it now, though… I’m not sure that is accurate. Thinking of the 18 year old boy/man who left that school those many years ago… it is hard to say I was anything resembling an adult. And I guess if I were going to be really honest… I’m not really sure I could claim that description now (for better or worse).

So there I was… driving east on Route 195… driving in the last light of the day… just a few short miles from a place I lived four years of my life… a long, long time ago… life times ago… with no need to be at my destination at any particular time and a curiosity. I wondered if time had been kind or cruel to the school… I wondered if the old buildings had been razed and what modern monstrosities might have taken their place… In short… I wondered if the school… the place I had lived all those years ago… the place I had all those experiences (those “once in a lifetime” experiences) was still there. If I would recognize it; feel any connection to it. “Tabor Academy Next Exit”… I turned right off the highway… I recognized the short drive to Front Street in Marion. Everything looked the same so far… almost as if forgotten by time and a strange feeling started to come over me.

As I approached the drive down front street toward the main buildings of the campus… it was as if I were traveling back in time… I slowed the car to a crawl and I drove with a kind of reverence. I was about to drive into the past… my past… to a place and a time that was so important to me all those years ago.

It was still summer and there were no classes. Whatever summer classes there might have been, had most certainly ended; Fall classes had not started, and as I approached the campus in that curious light, it seemed almost that the campus was a “being”… a thing with consciousness… with a life… with a memory…. And as I began to drive through her… it was like we were alone… I with my memories and she with hers. It was the oddest of feelings and when I tell you that I was transported back in time… it is not much of an exaggeration. I felt things, remembered things, saw things which I had not in decades. It all came flooding back as I gazed upon this place so filled with past experiences. It was as if I was separated from the past by the thinnest of membranes… that the past and present were there together with so little separating them.

The campus seemed to stand in defiance of time. With some small exceptions, the campus was EXACTLY, as I had remembered it. Exactly as I had left it. Lillard Hall, the chapel, the playing fields, the dormitories. My car slowed and I was overwhelmed by the experience that I had just been there, living my life as a fourteen, fifteen, sixteen and seventeen year old boy, just moments ago. There was something alive in my memories which responded to this place which was enveloped in the last light of the day and as crazy as it sounds… it seemed that the campus knew me too. Ageless, timeless… she stood there. Teachers, students… we came, we went… we grew old, and some of us have died… Generations have passed and still, she stands there… watching, serving and unchanging…. it blew my mind and a kind of quiet overcame me as I continued down Front Street… over to Spring Street… and then… finally… continuing on my way.

I’m not sure what to make of that experience… but it was kind of special… very special… I touched and was touched by something in my past in a most surprising way… It was completely personal and probably something that can’t be explained very well (sorry). But it was amazing and I just wanted to write it down.

Riddle Me This…

The other day a friend related a story to me about a friend of his who had gone on a job interview. The position he was interviewing for was that of an engineer. During the interview the applicant was presented with a problem which he was asked to solve…

The purpose, was to determine just how analytical his mind was and how good he would be at solving problems when presented with them. Unfortunately, my friend’s friend was unable to solve the problem and subsequently was not offered the position (I don’t know if this was the result of his inability to solve the problem or not… but it certainly didn’t help.)

My friend presented me with the problem which I was able to solve. I thought it was interesting and so I throw down the challenge to you… It struck me as a unique and practical way to test an applicant, though it certainly would favor the analytically minded over the creatively minded… which probably was the point (the position was for an engineer after all).

Here it is:

You are given nine identical balls. They look the same in every way… all the balls are the same size and look the same, however, one ball is slightly heavier than the others. You are given a balancing scale like the scale the statue of justice holds which has two sides. Your job is to find the heavier ball using the scale but you may only use the scale twice… How can you accomplish this task?

Good luck, and may the force be with you.

Murphy’s Law…

Been a while huh? I’m actually working on a post but I saw this picture and thought it appropriate to explain where I’ve been lately… Audit, prostate, fighting the laws of gravity and pushing stones up hills… It don’t get no funner than that.

Oh… and is it me or did we completely miss any kind of summer this year (adding that one to my complaints to the big guy). Peace out… catch you on the flip-flop… don’t let the screen door hit you on the way out. I should get my next post up post-haste.

If You Love Your Child…

It is a curious thing that has happened to my world… our world. It has changed a bit since I was a boy. I’m not sure how it happened… I suppose it had some logic to it… but I’m not sure the end result was anything that anyone could have predicted nor intended.

It seems that, in an attempt to protect our children, or fellow men and women… ourselves… we have somehow wrung some of the pleasure out of life… some of the “life”… some of the carefree “lying on your back and looking up at the sky” moments.

I’ll give you an example. A couple of Fridays ago it was a hot day… one of the few this summer. My family is fortunate that we have a nice little swimming pond not far from our home. So when I got home from work, I asked the kids if they wanted to go swimming. They were excited and dashed around the house looking for their bathing suits as I went into the basement to look for the water noodles and beach balls.

This summer Drake (four) and Phoenix (six) have started swimming lessons at the local YMCA. They can’t swim on their own yet, but they are learning. To say it’s not your father’s YMCA would be accurate. The first lesson I took my daughter to, her instructor (a nice enough guy) had a shaved head, cut-off shorts, a pagan star tattooed in the middle of his chest and a wolf tattoo on his shoulder… I thought I had seen him on “COPS”, “Dog the Bounty Hunter” or the wall of our local post office.

Anyway, they now teach the kids to swim with water noodles… not a flutter board to be seen anywhere. Now, I don’t pretend to be an expert on swimming, but I had many a swim lesson in my day and the flutter board seemed pretty effective… the water noodle?… not so much.

Okay… but I’m getting away from my story. So the kids dawn their suits, pile in the car and off we go, complete with all the giggling, complaining, and the “Daddy, Kangdrake touched me’s” that usually accompany any trip in the car.

We arrive at the pond, park the car, pile out and head down the path toward the beach, the water, and as much fun as you can pack into an hour visit at the local swimming hole… towels, water noodles, and beach balls in tow.

As we made our final approach from our car to the swimming area, a park ranger stepped out to block our path… “Can’t take water noodles into the water.” he said… “Oh… okay…” I replied; a bit confused. “You heard the man. No water noodles in the water. Okay?” I said turning toward the kids who had the same puzzled look that I must have had on my own face.

I turn back and take another step toward the beach and the ranger steps back to block our path again… “And no beach balls in the water.” At this point he must have read the look of complete bewilderment on my face and continued, “We believe in a controlled environment in the water.”… like that makes any sense. Controlled environment? Hmmm… fun free zone more like it. Lets just forget for a minute that there were eight 16 year old boys in the water tossing a shoe fifty feet in the air to see who could drown the others to be the only one left to get to it as it fell (true, he didn’t say anything about our shoes)… Water noodles? The things my kids use to keep from drowning? The things that wouldn’t hurt you if Barry Bonds swung one full force and hit you in the head? THOSE are somehow dangerous? I think I could make a pretty strong argument that it is more dangerous for my kids to be in the water without a floatation device. A beach ball is somehow dangerous? WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE WORLD? And when did it happen? Are we so concerned about safety that we no longer take the training wheels of our kids bikes?! How will they learn the skills of staying safe and not beaning other people or sharing a space, if the possibility of such things is taken away from them?

When I was a kid, the back of our family station wagon was a play area… a seat belt was my father reaching over the front seat to smack me for touch my sister… and only special needs kids wore bicycle helmets.

In the summer time my Mom was always pushing us out the door with strict instructions not to come back until dinner and she wouldn’t know where in God’s creation we were all day long (for the record, it was usually walking or riding our bikes miles away to ponds or woods where we might capture some poor unsuspecting animal, amphibian, or reptile… or just creating some adventure for ourselves). We dodged unleashed dogs (who ever heard of a leash law?), cars, neighborhood bullies and acquired some important skills in the meantime.

The Japanese have a saying, “If you love your kids, send them on a long journey.” … I guess the advice would be the same if you hated your kids, but the point is that kids… humans… learn things when they are tested, challenged, and put into “UNCONTROLLED ENVIRONMENTS”… without that, we are just raising a bunch of weaklings with no sense of boundaries, skills or ingenuity.

So… I’m all for protecting kids, adults and everyone in between but life is a messy proposition and there are no walls to keep out the unpredictable. We as a race thrive and become stronger in the face of adversity.

I’m not sure who is in charge… but consider this my formal complaint. Lighten up on the “controlled environments”… a little excitement and fun might actually be a good thing.