Happy New Year and...

Happy New Year - and welcome to Pre-Summer.

In our house January 1st is the day for taking down Christmas decorations.

With the season of Christmas come and gone, our thoughts turn to pre-summer. Once again the tabletops in our house are adorned with vases and bowls filled with sea shells and other ocean side finds.

As the lights come off of the tree, my thoughts turn to oiling the fishing reel, lubing the joints on the beach chairs, and making sure the beach bag is properly stocked.

Because every so often Mother Nature tosses out a seventy degree day during pre-summer, and I have to be ready.

First Stocking

College Dude was home for Christmas with his fiancee, Language Lass.

I decided on Language Lass for her name in my blog because she's majoring in languages and she is so slim that wee lass comes to mind when I see her.

Our kids still get stockings at Christmas - only now the stockings are filled by Motivated Mom and I rather than Santa (we figured we'd let Santa focus on younger children around the world).

Over the years stocking stuffers have evolved to things like toiletry items that kids tend to let run dry before replenishing. This year though, I had the brilliant idea of turning back the clock.

So off I went to the dollar store to find some fun stuff for three stockings. Three because Language Lass was getting one too.

Christmas morning Media Girl, College Dude, and Language Lass opened such desirable trinkets as Silly Putty, expanding towels, PEZ dispensers, ball & cup games, and more.

I didn't really keep track of the unwrapping process but I'm sure Language Lass was speechless (in all the languages she speaks) - just so overwhelmed by her first stocking that she was at a total loss for words.

Extra Time

You know that extra time we're always wishing we had? Well, we're getting it on the 31st.

Honest Injun.

An extra second is being added to 2008 to account for the fact that the earth is spinning ever so slightly slower on it's axis.

This extra second is great! Now I won't feel like I'm running behind all the time.

...And I'll get to knock an extra something off my To Do list.

You have your doubts?

Think of all the times we say things like:
Hang on a second while I finish this
I'll be with you in just a second
I'll be done in a sec
We can go in a second

It's obvious there are an incredible number of things that can be accomplished in a second.

Maybe we should petition to have an extra second added on a routine basis.

Nah, it would only get squandered. We'd just start saying I'll get to it in my extra second.

Mechanics and Doctors

Remember when mechanics took your car for a test drive - and doctors made house calls?

Both of those traditions have passed as those who repair our cars and treat our bodies become more and more specialized.

I'm finding that out with our SUV. Our Isuzu Trooper died while Media Girl was driving on Wednesday. You can probably guess what the chances are of getting a mechanic to look at a car on Christmas Eve.

Friday morning the mechanic finally made an assessment and told me he couldn't find anything wrong with the car. Well, that sounded like good news - but I had my doubts. I reviewed once again with the mechanic everything that Media Girl had heard and observed just before the car quit.

The mechanic finally decided it might be best if he took the Trooper for a test drive.

I called back two hours later to see if things were still good, and was told there was a problem with the transmission.

Bad news - followed by more bad news. The Trooper needed to get towed to a transmission specialist. You can probably guess what the chances are of getting a transmission specialist to look at a car on Christmas weekend.

Is all of this sounding like trying to get an accurate medical diagnosis? The similarities were not lost on me.

Remember when you could take your vehicle to your neighborhood mechanic and he could fix anything short of a bent frame? Remember when a doctor would take the time to listen to what you had to say before handing you off to a specialist?

Sometimes the good old days really were the good old days.

Right now there's nothing to do but sit and wait for the diagnosis.

Wind, Sand, and Geese

With temperatures in the seventies here today, Motivated Mom and I went out for an afternoon walk in search of sea shells.

It turned out that apart from the warm temperatures, mother nature was not feeling particularly cooperative.

High winds drove clouds of stinging sand across the beach. I was glad of my hooded sweatshirt. The hood kept my face and neck from getting sandblasted.

Unable to hear one another, and focusing on keeping our eyes averted from the intermittent sandstorms, Motivated and Mom and I were soon separated.

Following a thunderously loud onslaught of wind that nearly knocked me off my feet, a riot of shrill cries in the distance caught my attention.

I turned to see a wall of white preceding a mass of roiling black clouds. The wall of white turned out to be hundreds of geese that were soon racing over my head.

Goose "bombs" were dropping all around me as the howling winds buffeted the geese first one way and then another.

Somehow I escaped unscathed.

Motivated Mom and I quickly sought each other out. We decided it would be prudent to follow the example of the geese and head for the shelter of our car.

Remember When

Raise your hands. How many of you, as you gathered with loved ones over Christmas, were part of a conversation that started with the words remember when?

And how many of those remember when conversations were rehashes of stories that had been relived in previous years?

I was wondering why it is that there are certain events we want to continue to revisit.

It finally occurred to me that remember when conversations are like comfort foods.

Remember whens lead us through past times that we know to be safe. There are no surprises in these conversations - no chance of offending anyone, no chance of the conversation straying into uncharted territory.

Remember whens almost always put smiles on everyone's faces. Either because the event being relieved was humorous when it occurred or because it was a serious occasion that can now be looked back on either with fondness or relief.

Just like mashed potatoes and gravy, remember whens leave us satisfied, relaxed, and content.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

Wishing all of you a Merry Christmas.

If you happen to celebrate a different tradition, I wish you all the joy to be found at this time of year.

The great thing about this time of year is that it encourages us to be appreciative of our blessings and to share kindness and peace with those around us.

As you gather together with family and friends may you all experience the warmth of the season.

Sights, Sounds, Shivers

This morning it was COLD here. I didn't need the thermometer to tell me that, there were sights and sounds aplenty.

It started with the realization that our cats, who had just come barreling in through the pet door, were fluffed up to twice their normal size. Thanks to that visual warning, I was warmly dressed when I went out to start the car.

The complaining whine of the car's engine confirmed that temperatures had plummeted overnight. The frosty crystals on the car windshield that refused to clear even after the car had been warming for fifteen minutes told me every bit as accurately as a thermometer that the temperature had made it into the lower teens.

A glaze of ice covered the nearby pond and geese were standing atop the water rather than swimming in it. The honking of the geese echoed endlessly in the crisp dry air.

Thick smoke billowing out of house chimneys like steam coming out of the cooling towers at nuclear power plants, made it evident that heaters were working overtime.

Yes, it was definitely cold.

We've Made It

Congratulate yourselves folks, we've made it through the shortest day of the year.

That whole shortest day of the year thing can be a little misleading can't it? I've seen people scratching their heads over it. Seems to me like it still has to be twenty-four hours or else the clocks would be messed up.

Yes, well, we're talking about about hours of daylight - but calling December 21st the day with the least number of daylight hours would get a little cumbersome - hence shortest day of the year.

It's all good from here. From now until June 21st we get an extra little bit of daylight each and every day that goes by.

Which makes me wonder - why is February the highest suicide month? Granted the majority of us are sick to death of cold, miserable weather at that point, and cabin fever is raging. But the increasingly long hours of daylight should be a boost.

I'm no exception to the February blahs. Despite my best intentions to reform, February of each year I'm prone to start lashing at some poor unsuspecting soul over incredibly insignicant things.

It doesn't seem to make sense. November and December should be when we feel ourselves sinking into misery as the days get shorter and shorter. Maybe the holidays just defer all the negativity.

So let's all resolve to maintain good cheer, put smiles on our faces, and think happy thoughts. The worst is behind us.

Siestas

I take a nap nearly every day. Afternoon siestas are jewels whose value go unappreciated by so many.

Like jewels, there are an assortment of naps. There's the lunchtime power nap - fifteen to twenties minutes of down time to recharge the battery. Then there's the body has been pushed too far nap - two hours of oblivion followed by the feeling of trying to climb up out of a deep, dark hole. Renewed energy does occur following the body has been pushed too far nap, but not until fifteen minutes of disorientation has passed. If a life threatening event were to occur during those fifteen minutes, the next nap would last forever.

The weekend nap is an opportunity to treat yourself. The weekend nap comes in multiple flavors. The under the covers nap is just that. Shed your clothes, snuggle down under the covers, and slip into sleep for however long your body chooses to remain comatose. The under the sun nap is a chance to stretch out under the warmth of the afternoon sun in a place of your choosing. The brain throws up a muffling barrier against sound, the mind lazily spirals into sleep, and the sun's rays take the place of a blanket.

You'll have to excuse me, I feel an under the covers nap coming on.

Cruise Control

I've been doing a lot of highway driving today.

Once I had cleared the local congested areas and was on open road I activated cruise control. What a luxury that is.

I was remembering back to earlier years before cruise control when I took trips that required extended hours of driving. What contortions I would twist myself into. Crossing my legs one over the the other to give my right foot a break from the accelerator was always my first attempt at relieving driving fatigue.

Later, if the vehicle was roomy enough, I would tuck one foot under my butt just to get the muscles in my leg to flex differently. I'm sure drivers around me were cursing my sudden reduction in speed as I went through my physical readjustments.

There were even times when I asked the person in the passenger seat to lend a foot while I tried to work a cramp out of my leg - because it wouldn't make sense to just pull over and switch drivers now would it?

Standard transmission vehicles increase the difficulty of relieving foot and leg weariness.
Trying to untuck or uncross my legs in time to hit both the brake and clutch pedals was not a challenge I was interested in taking.

Of course, for every pro there is a con. While cruise control does allow me to "drivercise" while maintaining consistent speed, I find that my mind has a tendency to wander when constant monitoring of the speedometer is not required.

Maybe cruise control features should have automatic timers requiring the driver to return to active control of the speed periodically.

Hiding the Nut

I watched a squirrel burying a nut under one of the trees that line our back yard.

Balanced on his hind legs, the squirrel furiously dug at the ground with his front claws. He dropped his prized nut into the hole, pivoted on his hindquarters, and rapidly filled the hole back in.

I thought I was doing a pretty good job of remaining inconspicuous. Either I moved just a little or the wind shifted and carried my scent. The squirrel froze in place - nose twitching and eyes taking in everything.

A good minute passed before the squirrel decided his hiding place was undetected. Apparently a little extra protection was in order however. The little critter again turned on his haunches, picked up two hefty sized leaves in his front claws, and deposited them on top of the burial site. A couple energetic kicks with his back feet were required before the squirrel was satisfied the camouflage was securely in place.

Confident his treasure was safe, the industrious little guy scurried off.

Funny, I never saw him pull out his steno book to record the location.

Sound is Relative

When I go to bed at night, there is generally a time span of no more than two minutes between my becoming horizontal and slipping into sleep. And once I'm out I usually don't hear a thing until the wee hours of the morning. Motivated Mom comes to bed after me and I never hear a thing.

So the other night when I was seriously in need of a battery recharge and looking forward to something like one hundred hours of uninterrupted sleep I was surprised to find myself staring at the ceiling twenty minutes after lying down.

Not only were my eyes refusing to remain closed, my ears were tuning into every sound in the house. I heard every volume change between television show and commercial coming from the TV in the family room. Ice being dropped into a glass sounded like a calving glacier. Slippered feet on the linoleum floor might as well have been the boots of the Marine at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

Like many things in life, sound is relative. Normally any of the sounds I mentioned would have been inconsequential. Why did the relativity shift have to come on the night I needed sleep the most?

Bird Viagra

This past weekend I noticed a turkey buzzard standing in the middle of a recently harvested field. What caught my attention was that the buzzard was just standing there with his wings fully outstretched. Not getting ready for flight - just standing there.

For those of you unfamiliar with this bird, the turkey buzzard easily rivals an eagle in size. So, when fully extended, the wings are a good five or six feet tip to tip. Considering the body of the bird is only maybe a foot wide, standing in place with three feet of wing stretched out to either side has to be physically exhausting.

So why was the buzzard just standing there like that?

I thought that perhaps the posture was the bird equivalent to a teen age boy flexing muscles to impress the girls. But I didn't see any other buzzards around - unless they were hiding in the trees and giggling behind their wings.

And then I thought that perhaps the buzzard had ingested a form of bird viagra - and was experiencing wing extension lasting more than four hours.

Music To the Ears

Motivated Mom and Media Girl were out of town for part of the weekend. I was a bachelor for twenty-four hours.

There was a substantial list of things I wanted to accomplish in that period: Listen to music with the sound system set REALLY loud, get some Christmas gifts wrapped, listen to some music REALLY loud, take a walk on the beach, listen to some music REALLY loud, get in some deep meditation, and listen to some music REALLY loud.

For most of the day I had Christmas music playing at moderate levels, but once dinner was done I cleared the decks and .... yes, you guessed it.

I chose three DVD's: Pink Floyd's PULSE tour, Peter Gabriel's GROWING UP tour, and an Eric Clapton performance from the 1980's.

I dimmed the lights to concert lighting levels, mixed a tequila based beverage, settled into my recliner, and set the volume on the surround sound system to a level guaranteed to make the walls and floor vibrate.

Ohhh the ecstasy. Such an experience is the next best thing to... well, this is a family rated site...but you get the idea.

This is what it's all about for a rock and roll aficionado - watching legends perform while FEELING the music.

.... A special thanks to BOSE for a distortion free music fest.

Stealth Car

I've been driving a hybrid car for about four months now. Perhaps the biggest difference I had to adjust to was the lack of engine noise. When I'm cruising along on battery power, the only sound is the tires on the road - kind of like riding in a golf cart.

What I never really took into account was that lack of engine noise inside means lack of engine noise outside. The other day I pulled into a parking space next to a pickup truck. The tailgate of the truck was down and a gentleman, looking away from me, was sitting on the tailgate. I turned off my car and opened my car door.

It was the car door opening that caught the attention of the man on the pickup truck. He turned in my direction and his entire body jerked in surprise.

That's just scary, he said. I never heard your car. One of those electric things huh?

And with that comment a whole lot of things were explained.

Recently I had been thinking that parking lot pedestrians were becoming increasingly inattentive. More and more frequently they wander aimlessly, never so much as looking over their shoulders, even when I'm right behind them.

Now I realize. The pedestrians have no idea I'm there - no engine noise.

Maybe hybrid cars need a warning label on the dashboard.

Warning - stealth car - objects in the windshield may not move as quickly as anticipated.

Seagull Encounter

I took a stroll on the beach today. One of the things I enjoy most about living so close to the beach is that I can usually find time for a short walk along the ocean between chores and errands. It is a little gift from the universe that I never fail to appreciate.

I noticed a very young seagull sitting in an overturned horseshoe crab shell. Two thoughts struck me simultaneously. The seagull looked cute as a button sitting in his little sand sled, and, I could not remember having seen a baby seagull before. I guess seagulls must give birth to their young in the fall so that by the following summer all the birds are full grown.

With the realization that it was a baby I was looking at, I wondered where mother was.

Ah, that would be the very large seagull with mottled plumage standing just at the edge of my vision - and looking like she was quite willing to embed the tip of her beak in the top of my head.

I figured standing still was my best option.

The baby seagull apparently decided I was not a threat and went back to picking the remains of the crab from the shell. After a few minutes the little seagull was satiated.

Baby and mom then flew off and I was able to resume my stroll.

Uncomfortable Difference

I was out running some errands today and something different caught my eye.

In the middle of the divided highway that runs through the shopping district stood a person holding a sign. Because it was in the shopping district, I was expecting the sign to be something about a giant sale of some sort.

Not so. The sign read Keep Christ in Christmas. It was a hand lettered sign that was attached to a cross. And the cross was being held by a bearded man dressed in the type of robe that Jesus is usually portrayed as wearing.

My first thought was look at that wack-a-doo. And I immediately chastised myself for that thought. Because Christ IS what Christmas is supposed to be all about. Properly chastised, I consciously changed my thinking to good for him - not many people would have the nerve to do that.

The traffic light turned red and I took the opportunity to check out the people in the cars around me. Many of them were glancing surreptitiously at the robed man.

If the man had been dressed as Santa, those same people would most likely have been honking their horns and waving.

So why was everyone so uncomfortable with someone dressed as Jesus? Were they thinking, as I first had, that the guy was a little nutty? Or was it just that the appearance of a Jesus look-a-like was so unexpected that they didn't know how to react?

Had it been a live recreation of the Nativity scene in the median of the highway, people would probably have openly admired it - because though it would have been a surprise, it would have fit in with expectations of the season.

So I'm wondering... why are we so uncomfortable with something that's different from our expectations?

Santa Degree

I was reading an article in a Guideposts magazine yesterday about a man who works as one of Santa's many helpers every year. The article referred to a Santa Claus school in Michigan.

Really? A Santa Claus school? I went on line to check it out. Sure enough the Charles W. Howard Santa Claus School in Michigan has been training Santa helpers since 1937. The school has a Dean, a Registrar, numerous instructors, and offers a degree to its graduates. There is even an international extension of the school. Graduates with genuinely white beards can then join the guild of naturally bearded Santa helpers if they so choose.

I think now I know why some Santa helpers are SO much better than others. The really good helpers must be the ones who have attended the school.

I think it is great this school exists! I've been called on to serve as Santa's helper many times (I even have my own suit now) and I can tell you it's no easy task. My first assignment was at Wanamaker's department store in 1975. I REALLY enjoyed it, but it wore me out.

After that first assignment, if I had known there was a school I would have signed up immediately. I would have been anxious to soak up as much information as possible about Santa, reindeer, elves, and the North Pole.

I am being sincere here. Serving as Santa's helper has been one of the most rewarding experiences in my life. It is an incredible honor and a HUGE responsibility.

And to anyone who's wondering... Yes, of course there's a Santa Claus.

How do I know? The first time I put on an offical Santa's helper suit I was infused with the magic of Santa and Christmas. And it has happened every time since. It's something you have to experience to appreciate - but the suit must be donned with the correct intent. The magic won't come if you're not committed to being the best helper that you can be.

I loved the quote from Charles W. Howard that appears on the school's website:
Anyone who believes Santa comes in through the chimey is mistaken. Santa comes in through the heart.

Dental Therapy

I had to make an emergency visit to the dentist today.

Putting the words dentist and emergency together has the same effect as fingernails on a blackboard doesn't it?

When my name was called, I was led past the hygienist chairs to the luxury recliners in the back room. I guess the chairs need all that extra padding to conceal the restraining straps.

I didn't get the restraining straps. I got the Clockwork Orange behavior altering therapy.

The pleasant assistant took a look in my mouth and said Oh yeah, you really did a number on that tooth.

Whereupon she took an x-ray, the results of which appeared on a high definition, wide screen computer monitor suspended directly in front of my face.

I can tell you that a broken tooth enlarged to one thousand times it normal size looks very similar to the Titanic after it hit the iceberg.

Doctor will be with you shortly - oh, let me numb your mouth so you don't feel the shots.
(Notice the plural on shots)

And I was left to study the shipwreck hanging in front of me.

See sucker - this is what happens with you throw a handful of almonds into your mouth instead of chewing one at a time. Bet you won't be doing that again any time soon will you? Cause that handful of nuts is about to cost you one thousand greenbacks. You just sit there and study that jagged mess on the screen in front of you for the next few minutes while you're waiting for the man with the drill.

Holiday Evolution

The temperature made it into the sixties here today and I have been as happy as an Iguana basking in the midday sun on a hot tile roof.

When I was a kid, warm weather this close to Christmas would have had me in a state of panic. How would it ever be cold enough to snow for Christmas. And if it did snow, how would it stick if the ground wasn't cold?

Because when I was a kid, in my mind there were four absolute requirements for a great Christmas: a visit to Santa Claus at the department store, a colorful Christmas tree, presents, and snow - lots of snow.

In fact, I clung to that criteria quartet all through my twenties. A blizzard just before Christmas was great!

Things began to change when I hit thirty years of age. An inch of snow on Christmas Eve was the perfect touch. And if the snow was gone by New Year's so much the better.

By the time I hit forty, a heat wave in December with a small break to allow for some flurries on Christmas morning was my idea of perfect holiday weather.

Now I'm in my fifties and I'm thinking it would be great to spend Christmas sitting under a palm tree sipping fruity drinks.

I can remember seeing the first Bing Crosby Christmas special from California. I was still pretty young then and I remember being appalled that Bing had sold out. Now I'm appreciative of his wisdom.

Heads Up

You may have seen the article about this in the news a few weeks back.

A refrigerator sized piece of space trash fell to earth and landed harmlessly in the middle of the ocean. The space trash was an expended coolant cylinder that was intentionally thrown out of the space station.

I'm thinking the fish in the impact zone didn't think it was such a harmless landing.

Hey Gill, swim over here and check this out. There's not a cloud in the sky, but if you float right in this spot there's this big rectangle of shade.

You been sippin' saki again Marlin?

No, seriously - come on over here and....

SPLASH

Who decided it was okay to pitch used refrigerators out of the space station?

I'm just a little nervous about some NASA guy projecting the path of descent for an object that could turn my living room into an open air theater. I mean what if the programmer spilled coffee on his pants just when he was entering a key part of the calculation? Suddenly the middle of the ocean becomes the pond next to my house. With an unexpectedly strong easterly wind.... well, let's just say I'd rather they keep the space junk in space.

Where Are the Lights?

Quite a few years back, right around Christmas, the results of a study were published.

In a nutshell, the study found that people tend to put more Christmas lights on the exterior of their houses when times are bad. In good times, holiday lights are less prevalent.

So I've been wondering this past week - where are all the lights? Based on that study we should be taxing the nation's electric grid this year. But I actually see fewer lights this year that in recent years past.

Motivated Mom says it's all my fault.

I usually put up our outside Christmas lights in mid November, before the temperatures turn frigid. This year I kept putting it off, then vacation came up, and well... you know how it goes.

Motivated Mom says since our lights didn't go up on schedule, no one else knows it's time to decorate.

So this past Saturday I put up the lights. There are less of them than usual because, well, it was very close to frigid this weekend - and, as I've indicated before, I don't do cold.

Spread the word - it's time to decorate!

Morning Colors

I am watching the sunrise this morning.

Rolling lines of striated clouds have been painted countless hues of blues, reds, and yellows. It appears as though I am looking out across an endless chain of pastel mountain ridges.

Flocks of birds cross the sky in V's of flapping wings. There are occasional gaps in the formations. Straggling birds come behind the main group, positioned in alignment with the gaps - as though unaware they are not side by side with their comrades.

For a moment the clouds separate enough to let the giant yellow sun come into view. As if it is the signal they have been waiting for, hundreds of geese take to the air from a nearby field. For a moment the sky is chaos with birds flying in all directions. But they quickly form ranks and dozens more flying V's head off for more southern points.

Ahh nature - it's beautiful.

Decorating Evolution

Motivated Mom and I are decorating the Christmas Tree tonight.

I've been musing on the evolution of decorating the tree.

It began with our first year as a married couple and we were suddenly faced with .... (gasp) decorating differences.

You mean the way MY family always decorated the tree isn't the only way?

The next step was family decorating. Determined Dad took the top branches, Motivated Mom the middle, and the children decorated any branch they could reach.

Then Motivated Mom and Determined Dad sort of moved to the background as the kids grew taller and wanted to do more.

Teenage years hit and suddenly decorating the tree was boring after fifteen minutes. So it was back to Motivated Mom and Determined Dad again taking the forefront.

Now College Dude has moved out and Media Girl is conspicuous in her absence. So it's back to just Motivated Mom and Determined Dad.

The one, and most important, common denominator throughout this evolution - I have always decorated the tree with someone I love.

Media Girl Goes Flinstone

When we went on vacation, we did not activate international calling on our cell phones, and we did not take our laptop computer with us.

So Media Girl was without her lifelines.

Needing something else to fill in the hours and hours of thus vacant time, Media Girl became creative and lined up babysitting jobs with some of the other families in our time share hotel.

I was impressed. Not only was Media Girl handling withdraw extremely well, she was showing maturity - and making money to boot. I was prepared to give her a hearty congratulations at the end of a media free week.

I woke early on the morning following Media Girl's first babysitting gig and was surprised to find Media Girl was already gone from the apartment.

Not being particularly concerned, I headed downstairs for my walk on the beach - and found Media Girl in the lobby.

She had used her babysitting earnings to purchase a phone card and was standing at the pay phone talking to friends back in the states - at the rate of twenty five cents a minute.

Media Girl had needed a communication fix so bad that she gone back to the Flinstone era - talking on a land line attached to a wall.

Is It Live Or....

I was going through the supermarket fliers tonight and something caught my eye.

Live Littleneck Clams (harvested from certified waters).

There are just sooo many questions raised here.

Two of those questions are: What, exactly, is certified water? And if the clams have been harvested from those waters how can they still be live?

The answers to these questions could mean we have to look at many things in a new way.

If being alive now means something has been dead for less than a certain period of time, then....

When someone dies, instead of having a viewing, do we now celebrate a last meal together.

Join us Friday at 7:00 for a last meal with beloved Paul. He stopped breathing certified air on Wednesday afternoon. Death will occur at midnight on Friday. The meal is being held at the dining room of the local hotel. Rooms are still available if you'd like to stay in town to attend the funeral the following morning. Please RSVP ASAP as the window of opportunity is narrow.

Okay, so my sense of humor is a little twisted sometimes.

Lemmings

Back in the early days of Nintendo there was a game titled Lemmings.
Lemmings were little creatures that blindly followed one another into either safety or death.
The idea of the game was to keep the Lemmings from falling into a great abyss.

Put real live people on an airplane and they turn into Lemmings.

At the end of a flight, as the airplane lands at its destination, the steward or stewardess announces the arrival over the intercom and instructs everyone to remain seated until the plane has come to a complete stop.

Whereupon at least a half dozen people immediately jump from their seats while the plane is still moving. And once those first half dozen are on their feet, the majority of the passengers follow suit.

.... so that they can all stand in the aisle craning their necks to see what the person in the very front is doing.

If I were a steward, I'd be tempted to open the door and give the first person a helping shove to the tarmac below - just to see if the rest would follow.

Smart assing aside, WHY do people jump out of their seats like that? Where do they think they're going to go? And why do they start complaining when the line doesn't move foward the very second that the plane's forward momentum stops.

A passenger can get at least an additional twelve pages of a book read between initial touchdown and the time the door finally opens.

Lighting Up the Night

Driving home tonight I noticed that a parking lot I pass every night was brilliantly lit.

It was the special type of lighting that I associate with ball games, carnivals, and - tonight - Christmas trees.

Lighting really does have dramatic effects on us doesn't it?

The brilliant lighting I observed tonight immediately triggers expectations that something special is happening.

Streetlamps create pools of light that induce feelings of safety in an otherwise dark and frightening night.

Florescent lighting in our kitchens and workshops inspires us to be energetic; while dimmer lighting in our living rooms and dens puts us in a subdued and relaxed frame of mind.

Red lights - well we won't venture into those districts.

And then there's the mix of multicolored lights that lets us know a celebration is imminent.

But the best lighting of all is stress relieving, vitamin D building, body warming, all natural sunlight.

Romance Is Not Dead

College Dude proposed to his girlfriend while we were all on vacation last week.

Motivated Mom, Media Girl, and I were not on hand for the big event, but pictures were taken so we were able to relive the moment later in the evening.

College Dude proposed during a sunset cruise in the Carribbean waters off the coast of Aruba. College Dude had slipped the ship's captain a CD containing his and his girlfriend's special song. With the sun setting and the song playing, college dude got down on one knee and proposed.

On a romance scale of one to ten, I give him a fifteen for that one.

Hmmm, since I'll now undoubtedly be referring to College Dude's fiance in my blog periodically, I guess I need to add her to my Cast of Characters. College Dudette jumps to mind but somehow sounds a little clumsy.

Got any suggestions College Dude?