Hoot

Be scared, be very afraid, the scariest creatures to roam the earth will be out this weekend in droves. Vile flesh eaters. Entities that try to eat children and devour the elderly. Those people will be gone after Nov 2 but till then we need to try to hide---maybe disguise ourselves. I had a great idea to this end. On Oct 31, I am officially declaring national dress-up like something other than yourself day. It sounds a little far-fetched but I think the idea will catch like wildfire in a warm wind. Wait and see. There will be witches, goblins, Sponge Bob Square Pantses and more than one Transformer. I'll just bet you every city in this great nation will see some sort of result from my declaration. 


When I was in 2nd grade my mom felt much the same as I do now. She got me this great disguise where I wore a mask that looked like an owl face. I had a black one-piece suit with a picture of that scariest of birds on the chest. His eyes were two big circles With an H on one side and a T on the other. It sort of looked like: H eye eye T. People would see me and go Hoot, Hoot. I never understood that. They should have gone HeyeeyeT but, whatever.


By the time I got in fifth grade the mask was gone and that one-piece was a little tight. People would see me and go: "What the hell are you supposed to be?" Keep em confused, that's my motto. I offered to loan that incredible costume to my son who had a party to attend. The ingrate ripped the right side almost off while trying to get it over his 22 year old head and now it just says H eye. Why someone would try to put a one-piece on by pulling it over the head is beyond me but I realized with great enthusiasm that I might still wear it myself, sort of like a shawl now, but wear it I will. I can color the eye in and make it look like an O. Make my statement to those politician types by sporting the initials for: Hang Oppressors. I bet I get a lot of confused looks when I start ringing doorbells with that on my chest. They won't know what HO means. They'll probably think it stands for: Herman O. West who, known as H. O. West, was the co-founder and later owner of a chain of thirty-three department stores in mostly north Louisiana and southern Arkansas. From 1923 until his... Got that off Wiki cause I couldn't think of anything for H O either but that is probably what people will think anyway. Maybe I could get a horse and call it silver and holler H.O. Silver away. 


Mostly I will stay in the shadows and be very afraid because, according to the TV, every two years we are in some really scary times.  


Driving tip: Bonus today, not just a driving but a health and economy tip as well. I call it a threefer. Most people in the United States get way more exercise than they need. That is obvious by their insistence on parking as close to the store entrance as possible. They will burn 5 bucks worth of gas cruising for the best spot rather than walking half a block. 


If you park at the outer edge of a lot you won't get so many door dings (good for paint) you will save gas (not driving for five extra minutes for the good spot) and you will get some exercise (walking an extra hundred yards). The big bonus, I should have called it a fourfer, is that when you back out of your space there won't be a Suburban on your left and a van on your right. You might not bash into someone driving around looking for a good parking spot as quickly if you can see.  

Teeth

Had to go to the doctor for a checkup the other day. Came back with a total clean bill of health. Carol decided the guy had to be a quack. I eat too much, I eat the wrong stuff, I don't exercise, I have a bad attitude, I don't sleep, there is no way I can't be dying. She has been a nurse her entire life, she recommended the guy, she made me go. She has definite parameters guiding her in selection of physicians. She knows who is good or who had bad luck recently, what schools and experience they might boast or what hospitals allow them privileges. I, on the other hand, tend to go with the doctor having the smallest fingers.

My appointment was for ten o'clock and I arrived early to fill out any paperwork. The receptionist asked a few questions and gave me a clipboard with the required forms. I sat next to an elderly couple and just across from a woman with a four year old child...Billy...

Jumping straight to it I, having a reasonable comprehension of my history and being fairly quick with a pen, finished just after lunch. I'm 55 years old and can't imagine why they want to know about any trauma but I spent over an hour, and nine sheets of paper, telling them about the time I was kidnapped by Jimmy Tom and Booky when I was 5. I probably wasted my, and their, time because it wasn't really that big of a deal. Jimmy Tom's mom gave us cookies and they had every stolen toy in town to play with. When I told them I had to get going they said see ya later. I wonder if other kidnap victims have tried the I have to get going escape method? Anyhow, when I finally got to see the physician's examination room I was glad to find, after lying on the table for about fifteen minutes and then going through all those drawers, a pack of bandages. There were several bruises on my legs and a fairly deep bite wound on my arm. That Billy was a feisty little kid.

The doctor came in about four o'clock. Apparently some old guy died in the waiting room and they had to clean that up. He stuck a stethoscope on my chest and then on my back, made me cough and then grabbed something warm with those ice cold fingers and made me cough again. Count your blessings. The next thing he did with those fingers made me real glad he had a chance to warm them up first. At five after four he told me to put my shirt and pants back on and wait in the reception area for my results. Results is a medical term for bill.

The old lady still sat next to my chair looking all sad and when I asked how her husband was she started crying. Billy was in the corner getting his ass kicked by some five year old. His mom was all frantic but Billy bit the kid on his ear and that was that. I told you he was feisty. The receptionist finally gave me a prescription to ward off bite wound infection and let me go. I resolved to save time and not mention Jimmy Tom if anybody ever asks about trauma. I'll replace that with a tale titled, 'My Visit to the Doctor'.

Driving tip:  Most vehicles will provide power to only one tire. Unfortunately, that is always the tire with the least resistance. For instance: you have front wheel drive and your right front tire is in a mud bog. The rest of your car is high and dry but that right front will spin till you are out of gas. Press on the gas to get the tire spinning, Not hard, try not to dig yourself in deeper. While you have the tire spinning, put pressure on the brake with your other foot. The left tire is just sitting there, the right one is spinning against the brake causing friction and heating (and swelling) things up. After 30 seconds or so the right brake is hot. Now, let off the gas. step gently down on the brake and push gently on the gas. The mud tire should be locked by the hot brake allowing the left (cold tire) to turn. When the car moves a few inches get off the brake and go on your merry way.     .

Sport Stuff Again

Everyone, it seems, is involved in some fantasy sport or another. I, too, have fallen prey to the seduction of sitting on my butt, drafting players, and seeing how well my team stacks up against the opposition. The last few weeks haven't been good. One of my stars is down with an injury, a second was penalized and has to sit out three games and some of them, it seems, are playing with less than perfect equipment.

This week I am supposed to play my daughter. No easy task on a good day, but when I fired up my computer and logged on to Ultimate Fantasy Sport dot Org dot com I was stunned to find my highest scoring player is on a bye. I don't have to tell you how bad it sucks when the little girl you used to trounce at practically all sports suddenly turns seven and can take you in almost any physical activity. Fantasy was my salvation. I kill at fantasy. Even if I lose I can fantasize I win. What a great concept!

Anybody that indulges will sympathize when they find out my seeker is not scheduled to play due to a bye. The really awful part is that in Quidditch a bye can last for months. What a drag! (Sorry, showing my age) I mean what a bummer! So here I am, my seeker is on a bye, my best chaser is injured and his cohorts couldn't tell a bludger from a snitch. One of my beaters turned a ref into a toad and got a three game penalty and my quaffle turned green.

There is no questioning my superior intelligence when it comes to sports and this fantasy match-up shouldn't be such a big deal. I mean really, when you think about it, fantasy is foolish. Hogwarts are hogwash, Dallas are dumbells, Steelers are stupid, Niners are ninnies, Green Bay is slow way and the Yankess got their butts kicked and the Rangers are going to the super bowl. Go Mark Cuban!

Driving tip:  Dogs are people too. They have pet seat-belts available these days. Author Stephen King was struck by a car while walking on the shoulder of a road. The driver was distracted by his dog who was trying to get into a cooler and steal treats. A pet seatbelt will not only protect your beloved animal in an accident, it might even keep you from running over Stephen King. That's kind of important.

Habit

Walked up to the cashier and paid for my purchase with 17 one dollar bills. The girl took my money and casually asked, "Are you a dancer?" I have never. Can you believe that? It just goes to show you how crude some people can be. Anybody can take one look at me and tell that, if I even considered such a profession, those would have been twenties.

We are all guilty of mis-reading first impressions. I, myself, actually looked at a person once and instantly thought I could trust him. I guess it was the police uniform that threw me. He wasn't very big but my first impression was that he was a servant of the people, risking life and limb to keep us safe. After signing the $200.00 ticket I was left knowing he was nothing more than a shill for the establishment, a pawn of the court. I was only going eighty two, it was an interstate, if those slow pokes hadn't been in my way I would have been home. How much of a menace to society could I be? I'm surprised he even saw me as dark as it was. The creepazoid was hiding behind that 65 mile an hour speed limit sign just waiting to pounce on some poor innocent like myself. People like him have no idea how they impact society. Before 'the incident' I was cruising along not paying attention to my speed but carefully motoring down the highway. After, I waited till I was around the hill and purposely kicked it up to 67. I knew I was going to do it. I, a law abiding citizen, became a pre-meditated law breaker. It was all his fault.

Some people can really fool you. I read about an engineer who tried to kill his business partner by cutting the red air bag wire and, while the two of them headed to a convention,  purposely drove into a tree. His plan was sound enough on the outset but his passenger's air bag deployed flawlessly. His own did not. You see? It got you too. When I said he was an engineer you assumed he was smart. Well, when you take a second to think about it, we all know it's the blue wire you need to cut if you want to kill your passenger. What an idiot. Remember the old adage we learned in grade school? Blue kills you, red I'm dead. How could an engineer forget that?

As you go through life don't be fooled by first impressions. Just because she's wearing a nun's habit does not necessarily mean she will whack you with a yardstick. And just because he's scrawny doesn't mean it won't hurt when he kicks you in the......pocketbook by giving you a stupid two hundred dollar ticket.

Driving tip: If you have to pull over it is O.K. to get your tires dirty. If the shoulder is level or gentle, get your car at least half off the pavement. Those people on the highway aren't going to slow down. They should, but they wont. Turn on your flashers. Somebody driving along dead-tired will drive right into your trunk if all they see is taillights.
If you are doing 82 in a 65, you deserve the ticket. Don't whine about it.

 

GMAO

I read about this study where they took 3 control groups of twenty students. All sixty kids had to throw a given number of free throws with a basketball. The results were recorded and the study began. The first group then had to practice throwing free throws one hour a day for two weeks. The second group was not allowed to touch a basketball but rather concentrate about throwing free throws for an hour a day. The third group was not allowed to touch or think about basketballs. They just ate pizza and played Atari for the two weeks (it was an old test). The pizza group put up the same numbers at the end test as they had at the beginning. The practice group showed, like, a twenty percent improvement. The concentrate group also showed a twenty percent improvement.

Needing to get in better shape, but too lazy to exercise,  I decided, after reading this study, to make an honest effort and think about doing sit-ups and stuff for an hour a day. No improvement!
Coupled with my need to get in shape, is a compulsion to surf the internet. I am going to share an ingenious new concept that will guarantee you to lose weight and get in better physical condition. All you need to do is send me 50 bucks and I will tell you to put your computer at the top of a fifteen foot rope. You have to climb it and can only surf as long as you can hang on. The other thing I will share for an additional twenty dollars is to hook your computer to a tread mill generator. You can only surf if you are running fast enough to generate power.

Once you employ my new techniques for a month or so your friends will begin to post on Facebook how great you look. When they ask your secret you can say, "I exercised. GMAO!!!!!" Only you and I will know that the G stands for Google. You can charge them, like, fifty bucks, to tell them our secret. There are other solutions you might employ such as FBMAO (facebook) or FTMAO (farmtown) or like me, BMAO (blogged). Get creative, Don't send every pitch over the fence like those lazy-assed Yankees. Put them in center-field so you have to do a little running once in a while.

Driving tip: For most driving situations, push your side mirrors out just past the point where you can see the back corner of your car. You still need to head-check, but the side mirror will help to reduce blind spots if it looks a little further out. Don't go crazy and shove it out so far you can't tell if someone is approaching from your right. When you need to back up, toggle the mirror switch in to help you line the back of your car with the space you need to occupy.    

Strength Of Youth, Wisdom Of Age

Carol dispatched me to get a supplemental Christmas present for my son and I walked in the store to peruse what was offered. Several people were engaged in a this one's mine, no I want that one, this one has a bad wheel, or I need to put my baby in the carrier, game of shopping cart selection. I sort of smiled at those idiots, I mean, I was getting one item, why does everyone think they need a cart? The toy section was still pretty well stocked and I wandered up and down the aisles waiting for that perfect something to jump off the rack and holler, "Here I am, take me." They had this one doll that promised to actually soil its diaper and there was a truck made out of plastic. Can you imagine, a truck made of plastic? Who would ever buy such a stupid toy.
I came around a corner and all the lights in the city went out, all, except one. This brilliant spotlight focused on the perfect gift for an 8 year old boy. A host of singers formed a semi circle around me and began to ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh, ahhhhhh. That song might lose something on paper but it you were there you would agree it was really cool. I caught my breath, it was stunning, I stood there, face to bumper, with a red, 14 horse, go-cart.

That baby had a roll bar and chrome rims, let me say that again, chrome rims. My son threw his crappy bike in the weeds, jumped in the seat and was just pulling that shiny red baby into the dirt lot at the end of our street, his enormous smile contorting his face. The neighborhood kids stood back in awe, some of the girls held there hands to their faces and sighed. The boys dropped their jaws and cried. Some lady bashed into me with her cart and I came back to the store. I slowly reached out and touched one of the tires, they were pneumatic. Let me say that again, they had air in them. I turned the tag over and read, $489.00. I smiled and shook my head. That was only $189.00 more than I paid for the car I was actually driving in those days. Well, it was really 239 more because I still owed the guy fifty bucks, but it would be 189 when I got it paid off.

I threw my crappy Buick in the weeds and was just pulling that shiny red beauty into the parking lot at work. The guys were all stunned, my boss nodded his head in affirmation. Some guy's kid slammed into me when he came around the corner too fast and I was back in the store. Why do people let their kids run in stores? I grabbed a 110 lb junior bar bell set and headed for the registers. It was only twenty dollars and, when my son got done working out with that baby, no bully was going to kick sand in his face while he sat on a beach with some blonde haired chick. You would need to have read comic books back in the sixties to understand my thinking but old people know what I'm talking about.

I was about twenty third in line,(see older post-7-7-10) the guy in front of me had a cart with like--two items in it. Some people. I held my 110 pound junior bar bell set in my right hand and thought what an idiot he was but I guessed everyone can't be as young and strong as me. Ten minutes later the old lady in front, with the seven bags of purchases in her cart, walked toward the door. I switched my barbell set to my left hand. The next puke in line had to write out a check. I waited another five minutes and switched my son's gift to my right. After the next three people were finished I stood there holding that box with both hands. I was growing a little impatient, the guy in front of me was humming jingle bells. Fifteen more minutes and I began to hallucinate. Some idiot was humming jingle bells and everyone on earth had coupons and check books. I stood there with one knee cocked to rest part of my burden on my leg and when I finally reached the till I had a startling revelation. I could not lift that damn weight set up to the counter. What a dumb gift a bar bell set is anyhow, who would ever want to give something like that for a present? I figured, if I stand it on the floor and grab it low with both arms, give a mighty heave, then maybe...The lady behind helped me get it to the counter but I could hardly lift my pen to write out my check (The numbers came out all funny looking).

Carol and I were at the supermarket the other day to grab some sour cream and were nearly to the back when she said we needed some milk. I turned and started walking toward the front. "Where you going?" I rolled my eyes and couldn't believe she could be so naive. "To get a cart."

Driving tip: All summer you took the time to put the foldy visor under your windshield to keep the sun off your car's interior. If you live where it snows, begin throwing a small blanket over your driver's seat. In the morning when you open the car door and fresh snow blows in all over the seat, you will brush it off, but you won't get it all. You can bet your wet butt that you will wish you had paid attention when I said put a throw over your driver's seat. You could have just shaken it out, tossed it in the back and been on your dry, merry way.
 

Technology

Back in the 60s you sat in the living room and listened to Biff and Jack call a ballgame.
"It's a hot one today Biff."
"You know it Jack, that hot dog smells good though."
"We got old Swing Away Smitty at the plate. He sure has been parking a lot of em lately."
"That's true Jack but Fast Ball Freddy isn't going to make it easy for him."
"The count is 0 and 1 and Smitty takes a cut at that famous curve, bringing it to 0 and 2."
There's the delivery."
You hear a sharp smack and people screaming in the background.
"Man oh man, Smitty got ahold of that one. Right through the hole at left and he is safe on first."
"That brings up Lefty Louie and the crowd is on their feet."
"Boy, Biff. It looked like Lefty had some gum on his shoe or something. He was scraping it on the dugout steps before he took the plate and now he doesn't look comfortable in the box."
"Back to the game. One on, zero away here in the top of the first... and the windup...."

Those were the days, you could sit there and feel like you were actually at the park. Those were also the days before computers. Today it comes across a little different.

It is 93.647 degrees Fahrenheit out today, that's 34.248333333333335 degrees Celsius, Biff."
"You know it Jack, that hot dog smells good though."
"We got Swing Away Smitty at the plate. He's batting 377 against right handers this season."
"That's true Biff, but his average on away games is only 263. He could be in trouble against Fast Ball Freddie. His win-loss percentage is .773 with an ERA of 4.39. Out of 33 starts he pitched 80.1 innings and faced 763 batters with 171 strikeouts and only 149 hits allowed."
"All good numbers Jack. But if you consider that he faces a righty with the humidity at 78.335 percent you see his base on balls numbers jump from 95 up to 111. Smitty has a pretty good chance of getting on without even swinging the bat."
"No argument here Biff. But Smitty is twenty seven years old with 356 plate appearances this year. He has 35 home runs and 27 RBIs."
"You're forgetting the 7.832 mile per hour wind out of the Southwest Jack. That, statistically, puts a real damper on Smitty's numbers."
"Valid point Biff but....."
"Back to the game. Two on, one away, here in the bottom of the eighth. The score is three to six and Billy Ballwacker is addressing the plate."
"You know, Billy really has a good chance of tying the score here, with an RBI of 132...."

Used to turn the AM to 860 and enjoy the game. Talked Carol into a state of the art system but by the time you adjust your equalizer to get the bark out of the midrange and the trill out of the tweets, the game is almost over. My dad used to talk about the good old days. I wonder if, back then, you could actually go to a park and watch a game in person.

Driving tip: Throw a pack of post-its in your console. When the sun is glaring at you from between the visors or the back of your side window, slap a couple post-its on the glass. Don't impair your vision, but you might be able to improve it with some simple office supplies.