Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Carson - Finale & ...

This cat won't give up, Carson thought.

Carson was four feet up into the tree, squirming between tightly spaced branches with only a whisker's breadth to spare... and somehow Bonkers was still right behind. Carson could feel the tree swaying and shaking. Shiny baubles clinked and colored lights blinked. With little room left above, Carson scurried toward the tip of a branch.

Foolishly, Bonkers followed. The branch couldn't support Bonkers' weight. The cat slipped down through the lower branches, howling when a string of lights knotted around his tail.

Carson watched as Bonkers hit the floor with a THUD. The cat, still entangled in the string of light, was like an anchor on the end of a rope. And the weight of that anchor was causing the tree to topple.

Carson watched in disbelief as once again the floor raced up to meet him. A squeak was forced from his lungs when a tree branch pinned him to the braided rug.  He struggled desperately to wriggle free, to no avail. Breathing was becoming difficult and his vision was failing. The last thing he saw was a shining star.

The smell of well aged cheddar cheese drew Carson back from the darkness.  Blinking his eyes, Carson found himself lying in a bed of wood shavings. Silver bars rose up on all sides. A bottle of water hung from one of those bars and the piece of white cheddar that had woken him lay just beneath the bottle. Getting to his feet to claim his prize, Carson found his left front foot was wrapped in blue thread. The color looked familiar.

"Oh thank goodness you're okay,"  Diana said.  "You haven't moved all night and I've been sooo worried.  But now you're awake and it's the best Christmas Day ever.  I hope you like the cheese.  Mama explained that you're a mouse and not a hamster, but that's okay."

Carson nibbled hungrily at the cheese while, from the arm of a nearby chair, Bonkers looked on in disgust.

"I'm so glad you like it," Diana said.  "I'll give you some every single day."

Carson wiggled his nose and blinked his eyes while grinning his biggest grin.

******

HAPPY HOLIDAYS to all who periodically check in on this blog.

I'll be taking a short break but will be back with new stuff in the new year.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Carson - 12

Carson had never traveled in a pocket before. He had to admit it he liked it. Warm, dark, and confining, the pocket reminded Carson of his own nest. Turning in a half circle, he settled his rear end into the corner of the pocket, only to be scooped out and thrust in front of the face of one of The Family.

That mouth of that very same face opened into a wide "O". The shriek that blasted out of that dark opening echoed through the room.

Frightened, Carson acted instinctively, biting on the tip of Diana's index finger. 

Suddenly Carson was airborne, turning somersaults as he arched toward the braided rug on the dark wooden floor. Even as the room spun around him, Carson saw his predicament. Bonkers was waiting at the far end of the rug. A pink tongue poked from the corner of the grin that stretched across the cat's face.

Twisting his body this way and that, Carson brought his spin under control and got his legs working. The very moment his feet touched the carpet, Carson took off like a shot.

Wonder of wonders there was a tree in the middle of the room.  Carson raced up the trunk of the tree with Bonkers right on his tail.

Dear Reader: you can add your own sentence to the story by posting your contribution as a comment or sending an e-mail to scripterbk@live.com

Monday, December 20, 2010

Carson - 11

Soft warm hands wrapped around Carson and lifted him from the scraps of food and paper.

"Santa's already been here.  Santa's already been here"!  Diana shouted.  "He brought the hamster I asked for!"

Hamster!  Carson hadn't been so insulted since... well, since his brother had given him the nickname Shortail.  He was ready to bite the fingers of the little girl who was holding him. That is, until he saw Bonkers staring up from the floor.

If I bite Diana's hand she'll either drop me or throw me out the door. Either way I'd be done for. Carson knew he would never survive being dropped at Bonkers' feet. As for outdoors... Carson shivered at the thought of all the cold open space that waited out there.

"Oh you poor thing," Diana said when she felt Carson shiver.  "You're cold."  She slipped Carson into the pocket of her robe and hurried into the living room to show her parents what Santa had brought for her.

Dear Reader,  you can submit a sentence or phrase to be included in the next installment of the story by posting a comment (comments don't appear right away) or by sending an e-mail to:  scripterbk@live.com

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Carson -10

Scrambling onto the top of a red and white soda can, Carson cautiously raised his head until his eyes cleared the top of the plastic that lined the trash can.

Diana was pulling a long sting of silver fluff from one of the cardboard boxes on the kitchen floor.

Mary had a....

"Hey genius, wrong song." the boy's voice was so close that Carson flinched in surprise  "It's Christmas Eve. Your supposed to be singing Jingle Bells. And that garland is coming apart so just throw it away."

Carson's eyes widened as Diana headed directly toward him with the sting of fluff trailing behind her like a tail.
When she reached the trash can, Diana scrunched the fluff into a ball extended her arms...

....and squealed.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Carson - 9

Oh such ecstasy. The pungent smell of well aged cheese. The strong flavor unique to cheese from over the water. Carson's nose hadn't failed him. The remains of a plastic wrapper showing a windmill proved the cheese had come from a long distance away.

Carson's second, third, and fourth bites were progressively larger. His belly felt like he had swallowed a marble. A yawn escaped his lips and he considered taking a short nap right there in the trash can.

Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb...  the sing-song voice of Diana, the youngest member of The Family, floated through the kitchen.

Panicked, Carson hauled his now considerable bulk up through the trash.

Thanks (I think) to Stephanie for providing the phrase in bold.

If you, Dear Reader, would like to have an effect on the next installment of the story, you can offer your sentence or phrase by posting a comment (comments won't appear right away) or sending an e-mail to: scripterbk@live.com

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Carson -8

There it was again. The smell of aged cheddar cheese. The aroma rolled across the lip of the trash can and down to the floor in an unending wave of mouth watering temptation.

Bonkers forgotten, Carson wedged himself in the narrow space between the kitchen cabinet and plastic trash can. It was the tight squeeze that enabled Carson to make his vertical climb. His back pressed against the cabinet, Carson's tiny claws easily found purchase in the slight imperfections of the plastic.

In only seconds Carson reached the top edge of the trash can. Anchoring himself with his back legs, Carson used his front feet to dig through the assortment of paper, aluminum, and food scraps. Nose twitching, stomach grumbling, Carson zeroed in on his prize.

He was salivating by the time he spotted the rectangular chunk of cheese. Ohhhhh.. it was white cheddar!! Carson couldn't imagine why The Family would discard such a treat. Carson quivered in anticipation of sinking his teeth into the tasty prize.

Dear Reader, you are invited to post a comment (comments won't appear right away) or send an e-mail to scripterbk@live.com with you suggestion of a sentence or phrase to be included in the next installment of the story.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Carson - 7

Carson's life was in the balance. There was no time to reason out the hallucination of his father.

Kicking, thrashing, and twisting, Carson managed to weave his front paws into Bonkers' whiskers. Carson plucked at those whiskers as though the were strings on a banjo.

Bonkers first went cross eyed trying to focus on the mouse, then those same almond shaped eyes pooled with tears.  Bonkers chest swelled as he hitched in gasps of air. Ah.. ah... ah...

CHOO......  The cat's sneeze sent Carson sailing through to air to land at the base of the trash can with the delicious smelling cheese.

Dear Reader:  you can influence the next installment of the story by contributing a sentence or phrase.  You can post your contribution as a comment (comments won't appear right away) or send an e-mail to: scripterbk@live.com

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Carson -6

Carrrrson!!!  His mother's high pitched squeak  now sounded more panicked than angry. Carson couldn't understand why. He was being delivered to safety by his long absent father. While Carson was sure he would be confined to his nest for weeks to come, having the family all together again was going to be wonderful.

Carson Aloysius Truman Shortail.  Carson cringed. Shortail was a taunt by his brother that had stuck as a nickname after Bonkers had taken two thirds of Carson's tail during the last encounter between cat and mouse. Carson hated the name and everyone knew it. The only time his mother ever used it was...

Wait. That wasn't his mother's voice. Someone else was screaming at him.

Carson struggled to shake the cobwebs from his mind.

Much to his horror, as Carson's thoughts cleared his father disappeared. The face clamped on the end of his tail was none other than the grinning Bonkers the cat!!

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Carson - 5

"Dad?"  Carson whispered. "What...how..."

Carson's father had been injured by Bonkers after rescuing Carson from his last brush with disaster. The wound in his father's side had never fully healed and.... one day his father didn't come home.  It had been a full year since anyone had seen Aloysius Truman, but somehow he had reappeared to save Carson from danger once again.


Dear Reader.... have a sentence or phrase you'd like to see in the next installment of this story?  You can post a comment (comments don't appear immediately) or send an e-mail to me at: scripterbk@live.com 

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Carson -4

Oooomph!  The breath was knocked from Carson's lungs and the world tumbled.  Upside down, right side up, upside down, and finally sideways.

Carson lay sprawled on his side on the speckled linoleum, his sides heaving as he struggled both to catch his breath and overcome his shock.  He knew that he needed to get to his feet and scamper away before...

Something warm and moist clamped down on what remained of Carson's tail.

This is it, Carson thought as he was dragged away, this is how it's all going to end. Oh, what will Mother think when she gets the news.  If she gets the news.

As though thinking of his mother had called her up, Carson heard her voice nearby.

CARSON ALOYSIUS TRUMAN SHORTAIL!!!

It was not lost on Carson that the initials C.A.T.S. spelled the very animal that was about to eat him for a late night snack.

But wait... if a cat has my tail in his teeth why would Mother be....

It was a struggle, but Carson lifted his head high enough to look over his shoulder.  His eyes widened in surprise.


Thanks to Lisa for e-mailing the phrase in bold.

If you, Dear Reader, would like to submit a sentence or phrase to use in the next installment of the story, you can post a comment (comments won't appear right away) or send an e-mail to: scripterbk@live.com

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Carson -3

Carson detested the taste of cardboard. Actually it was the glue that was offensive. The combination of chemical based glue and wood pulp played havoc with his digestive system and the stuff was absolutely impossible to get out from between his teeth.

But there was no help for it, with Bonkers the cat on the prowl Carson was going to have to chew his way into the box. With a little luck one of the Family would have left one of the special bottles inside of the box. Carson had no idea what the letters T.U.M.S. meant, but the treats inside of those bottles made Carson's insides feel wonderful.

A pile of brown fluff quickly accumulated on the floor. Carson spat out as much of the cardboard as he could. With the noise of his chewing filling his ears, Carson couldn't tell what Bonkers was doing.

As soon as he had a hole bigger than his nose, Carson forced his head through the opening...  And squeaked when he saw two almond shaped eyes staring back at him.

.... Thanks to Matt for suggesting the direction of this installment.

You, Dear Reader, can influence the direction of the next installment by supplying a sentence or phrase by posting a comment (comments won't appear immediately) or sending an e-mail to: scripterbk@llive.com

Monday, December 6, 2010

Carson -2

Whiskers twitching furiously, Carson moved forward until the tip of his pink nose emerged from shadow. He was certain disaster lurked unseen, but one of the Family had deposited a golf ball size chunk of aged cheddar cheese in the trash and Carson just had to have it.  If his nose was any judge - and it was - the cheese had aged for just over three years and originated from a place known as over the water.

Carson made a mad scamper for the first of the plain brown cardboard boxes. Squeezing against a corrugated flap that was peeling back from the rest of the rectangle, Carson set his eyes on the next leg of the journey toward dinner - a round red and white striped container that towered nearly to the seat of one of the Family's kitchen chairs.

Just as Carson made ready for maneuvers, his ears caught the thump of padded feet hitting the floor.

Dear Reader:  Here's your chance to decide where the story goes next.  You can offer a sentence or phrase to be included in the next installment by posting a comment (comments won't appear immediately) or by sending an e-mail to: scripterbk@live.com 

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Carson's Christmas

Carson Shortail peered cautiously out of his door and studied the landscape before him.  It had changed drastically since the night before. Just as it had done this time last year.

The tumult shortly after dawn had warned him the upheaval had begun and Carson had made sure he remained deep in the shadows until the thumping, scraping, and scratching had stopped.  Then he had schooled himself to patience and waited hours longer.

Patience did not come naturally to Carson, but after losing three inches of his four inch tail last year he resolved he would not be in a hurry if the change came again.

He was ever so hungry, and the view from his arched opening did his stomach no good. Obstacles were everywhere. Brown cardboard boxes had turned the linoleum floor into a maze. How ever was he to make it to the trash can without being discovered?

Dear Reader.... Have a sentence or phrase you'd like to see in the next installment?  Post a comment (it won't be viewable right away) or send an e-mail to scripterbk@live.com

Friday, December 3, 2010

Flying the Happy Airways

Is that a handkerchief in your pocket - or are you just excited about flying?

TSA officials are now saying that body scanners INCREASE the need for pat-downs as part of airport security.

Huh?

Yep - because the scanners call attention to anything in a person's pockets, those pocket contents need to be investigated by pat-downs. Now there's talk about pat-downs before body scans so officials will know what it is the body scanner is picking up.

Yes, it's a clear cut case of ineffectual beauracracy gone wild.

The U.S. really has gone off the deep end in airport security.The fact is, if a terrorist wants to bring a plane down, he or she will do so regardless of any security measure in place. The threat of destroying a plane is where terrorists are winning the battle.

As for me - I'm going to carry my change of socks in the leg of my jeans on my next flight. I'll take my thrills wherever I can get them.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

College Dude Decree

College Dude saves the day.

I was struggling with what tonight's post would be and so took time to surf the web and check in on Facebook. And what should I find on College Dude's Facebook page but a decree I heartily endorse and share herewith with a few Sea Zens appropriate edits:

And do it is decreed that temperatures shall remain in the 50's and 60's December thru March except for the 21st to 29th of December where temperatures may slip into the 20's and 30's. Furthermore between December 23rd and 27th a maximum of 3 inches of total snowfall is permissible but none before of after!

It is good to know that my son has maintained a firm grasp on the world as it should be.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Changes in Attitude

I thought I was doing a pretty good job of adjusting to the last days of post-summer this year.

I tried to look for the glory in the display of multicolored trees and for the sense of invigoration from the chill in the air. As leaves started to fall more rapidly and late blooming plants lost their blooms I made an effort to think of nature resting and building stamina for the coming pre-summer.

And then my travels took me to the warm Caribbean where brilliant green palm fronds sway in the warm breeze, flowers and shrubs bloom in a multitude of colors, and white fluffy clouds sail smoothly across a royal blue sky.

Blinders off, I returned to December in the Middle Atlantic region of the U.S. - and realized the barren trees stand like defeated soldiers in an abandoned field of battle and the cold winds that howl unimpeded carry the chill of death rather than the hope of rebirth.

Truly bears are the smartest of all creatures at this time of year; curling up in their dens and waiting for the warmth of April.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Changes in Latitude

There's only 26 degrees of difference in latitude between Oranjestad, Aruba and Lewes, DE, but for each of those 26 lines of latitude the temperature had dropped three degrees. In only six hours I had gone from 88 degrees of warmth to 28 degrees of cold.

My body was in such total shock that I didn't fully recognize the impact of the climate change until I found my shivering so uncontrolled that I couldn't get the key into the the lock on the front door of my house.

Run Away! Run Away! my mind commanded. Back to the airport quickly, pawn your car when you get there, buy a ticket, get back to that 12th degree of latitude.

I would have turned on my heels except that just then the key slid home, the lock clicked open, and I raced to pull every blanket I owned out of the closet.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Racing to Thanksgiving

The wind was howling across the fields at 250 mph today.

Well, maybe it was 25 mph.

Multicolored leaves that had been piled for bagging were scattered in all directions. The riot of dried color tumbling across lawns made me think of children racing away from school at the end of the day - backpacks of red, brown, blue, and green bouncing on shoulders as the kids scatter toward all compass points.

I'll be doing my own racing - hurrying off to a vacation that will keep me away from internet, phones, e-mails, and voice mails for a while.

So I'll take this opportunity to wish everyone a HAPPY THANKSGIVING.

Look for a new post on December 1st.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Light Back At 'Ya

It's ironic how just when we need light the most, mother nature befuddles our ingenuity.

Ingenuity is what brought us automobiles with headlights. Those engineering marvels (cars & headlights both) open the world to us at all hours of day and night.

Until mother nature throws her fog ball. Then all bets are off.

Just when we most need a light source to illuminate the road ahead, nature's moisture laden wall bounces the light right back in our faces.

It goes against all reason that, to see further, we need to turn the lights down lower.

Perhaps this is the universe's hint to us that we all need to slow down.

Maybe true success comes at a slower pace.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Swipe Only

Has it really come to this?

I made a quick stop into the grocery store to pick up just two items totaling $6.25.

When I attempted to hand the cashier a twenty dollar bill, she gestured at the card reader and said "you can swipe your card right there".

Thinking she was asking me to swipe my "preferred shopper" card I pointed out she had already scanned the card.

No, she said, your debit or credit card. You can swipe it right there.

But I'm paying cash, I said.

The cashier rolled her eyes - and spent nearly 3 minutes figuring out the change.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Book in a Nook

Motivated Mom has been hooked by a nook.

I know what you're saying
I know what you think.
A nook is a small space
So how does a nook hook?

A nook is where you would go
To hide from a crook.
A nook is a place where
You might keep a book.

And indeed there are books
kept in this nook
This nook that hooked someone
Who is not a crook.

But the books in this nook,
They are different you see
These books - well -
They're words displayed on a screen.

It is, I fear, a most unnatural thing
Perhaps this nook should be buried in a sack
It is sacrilege, say I,
For a book to have no front and no back.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Look... Up In The Sky...

Either I had taken a wrong turn onto a life-size Hollywood filming location, I was witnessing a full scale alien invasion, or an astonishing number of comets were plunging into Earth's atmosphere.

Because surely seven commercial airliners wouldn't be packed into such a small section of sky.

I was on my way home from work when, rounding a bend, I found myself staring at a golden sky with seven white streaks etched diagonally downward.

Quickly calculating the possibility that seven airliners would be descending at the same rate at the same time, I came up with something like seven hundred thousand to one. Which meant the white streaks almost certainly couldn't be vapor trails from aircraft as I know them.

Another bend in the road took the atmosphere insurgents out of view. Out of sight was not out of mind in this case and I continued to ponder the unusual display.

It was a mere twenty minutes later when, from an opposite direction, an Air Force C-7 came into view with all of it's forward lights blazing.

Which left me convinced what I had seen earlier was in fact an alien incursion.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Veteran Thanks

I had planned a poetic tribute to U.S. veterans, but a foggy brain prevents melodic verse.

So let me simply say THANK YOU not only to past members of the armed forces but those currently serving as well.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Sparrow Steed

The sparrow was barely taller than the surrounding blades of grass.

The only reason I even noticed the bird was the brilliant purple feathering on its back. With such coloring, the bird would have made the ideal steed for a prince of fairie. I could almost imagine an elegantly outfitted leader nestled into the crook between the sparrow's neck and back.

With a wave of a toothpick sized sword, his royal highness would encourage his loyal subjects to follow as the bird blazed a trail to the nearest tree. A tree where the fairies could climb to harvest sections of fruits not yet fallen, or dig between roots to carve out homesteads.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Reflectors and Radiators

You've probably seen them - those silver sun shades that fit in the windshield of a car. Not only do they block the sun, but they reflect the sun's heating energy.

I saw a car outfitted with one of these reflecting shades today and the first thought to go through my mind was... why?

Why, at a time of year when folks are waking to frost on their windshields, would someone want to block the sun?

A car can serve as a great collector of solar heat - and in November through March I want my car to collect as much heat as possible.

When dried leaves are being twirled into the air by dirt devils and clouds are being whipped across the sky by chilling air, I want to crawl inside of a radiator.

For folks in the northern half of the country, it's definitely time to put those sun shades away.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Which Way to Go?

To say it was a flock of birds wouldn't do it justice. Birds of a size somewhere between a sparrow and a crow were swarming across the sky.

I couldn't blame them. With the onset of colder weather they were no doubt anxious to head.... North?

Could it be? They were actually heading to colder climes? A quick look around to get my bearings confirmed they were doing just that.

That is until a large section of the migrating birds broke ranks and doubled back.

Then a smaller group of the southbound birds broke ranks to zero back in on the main mass.

Only to have the new leader of the primary swarm turn south.

It had to be a case of back flock driver's, I decided.

Turn here... No, don't listen to him, turn here... What are you doing? Those guys don't know where they're going. Turn up there.

The swarm had turned into a spinning cyclone before they drifted from view. I can only hope level heads prevailed and got the migration back on a southerly track.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Where's the Standard?

Time is relative. And now that we're back on standard time, the animals we care for are relatively confused.

There's a large number of humans who complain of being out of synch for weeks after the clocks change, but it's just as hard on animals.

Cats, dogs, cows, horses... none of them track time by watches or clocks. They all rely on the cycles of nature. Sunrise, sunset, and the gradients of light occurring between are what govern the animals of the world. When the arrival of meals, the opening of gates, and the lighting of barns suddenly change in relation to nature's glowing orb, animals are left to ponder the cosmic shift in their worlds.

As for me, I found myself fixing lunch at sunrise and dinner at high noon.

It's now been dark for over three hours and I'm trying to figure out if it's yesterday, today, or tomorrow.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Zig Zag

It's no wonder squirrels need to bury so many nuts - they burn energy faster than they can eat.

This realization hit me as I watched a squirrel leap from the leaves in the tree line at the back of my property and zig-zag its way across my back yard. The critter traveled three hundred feet by the time it reached the patio that was seventy-five feet from the trees.

At every hairpin turn in its course the squirrel would paw at the ground - presumably to bury a another acorn. Come winter, if that squirrel can find each cache, I'm going to forgo a GPS for my car and strap a squirrel to the dashboard.

Like the squirrel, I'm now off for a couple days of travel that will take me in a zig zag course across the state.

Look for my next post on Sunday, November 7.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Shadow Temperature

Who needs a thermometer when we have shadows?

As I studied the shadows through the window this afternoon I found myself turning up the collar of my sweater. Although I was in a warm building, the combination of colored leaves and lengthening shadows triggered an unconscious shiver. It had to be chilly outside - and it was.

Shadows of the same length on a August afternoon would have told of a welcome lessening of heat if not humidity.

But somehow the shadows of post-summer have a more significant impact. The angle of sunlight is different and holds less promise of warmth. The combination of late-year sun and elongated shadows tells of a need to wrap up just as surely as mercury dropping in a thermometer.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

One Percent Concern

I was going to write the e-mail off as campaign propaganda given the time of year, but when I followed a link to the SNOPES website where the information was confirmed as accurate - well I got just a little bit agitated.

The e-mail talked about House Bill HR4646, aka Debt Free America Act.

The bill proposes a 1% tax on every financial transaction. Deposit your paycheck - get taxed 1%, make a withdraw - get taxed 1%, buy a house - get taxed 1%, and so on.

While release of this info is undoubtedly tied to the election, if such a bill were to go through it would definitely be more of a trick on the U.S. workforce than a balancing the budget treat.

Between ideas such as this and the great health care boondoggle I foresee a rapidly expanding underground cash economy - along with a few boatloads of burning tea.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Sea Witch

Ding dong the witch is... alive and well.

It's Sea Witch weekend in Rehoboth, DE which means that kids from one to sixty years of age will line up to follow the Sea Witch in a parade down Rehoboth Avenue.

... And that's just the start. The weekend is filled with scavenger hunts that send folks roaming all around Rehoboth Beach and two neighboring towns, costume parades for pets, costume parades for kids, arts and crafts, sand castle contests - the list goes on.

Personally I find it a great alternative to house to house trick or treating in the dark. If it appeals to you too, you can get more info at http://www.beach-fun.com

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Life Cycles

It occurs to me that trees go into the end of their life cycles in a much different manner than humans.

While I'll grant that post-summer hibernation for trees is quite different than death for a person, I could not help but make a comparison.

Approaching hibernation, trees put on a dazzling display of color - seemingly a celebration of a successful cycle. The mixed palettes of color are a tree equivalent of fireworks.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, the shuffling, arrested gait of an elderly person is anything but a tap dance that would suggest happiness. Too often the end of the human cycle is accompanied by moaning and wailing.

Perhaps we should do something about. Perhaps as an elder moves into last years we should make a practice of gathering 'round to celebrate what they have achieved and to thank them for the impact they have had on our lives.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Of Colors and Groundhogs

I didn't realize groundhogs were related to chameleons.

The very same King Herman who two months ago was sporting a dark coat that blended perfectly with the thick green grass is now sporting a color equivalent to the light brown post-summer lawn.

And the King didn't even have to change his regal finery - he simply changed the color.

(For those who don't remember, King Herman is the name I gave to the groundhog that lives in the rolling lawn centered in the office complex where I work.)

Think of the money and resources that could be saved if people could change the color tones of their clothing. We could pull last year's reds and browns out of the closet, change them to gold and khaki - and have a fresh new wardrobe.

We would even be one up on King Herman at that point - the King can't send his finery to the dry cleaners.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Year Coastering

My apologies for the lack of advance notice that I would be away from the blog-o-sphere for a few days.

I was focused on coastering into another year.

This was my second annual roller coaster birthday celebration. What better way to spend a birthday than being with the ones you love while riding the twists, turns, rises, and drops of engineering marvels designed to scare a year or two of life out of you?

Having reached my fifties perhaps I shouldn't risk the shortening of life, but as was discussed over the weekend, everyone has to go sometime so I might as well give myself the chance to have fun on they way out.

That I am typing this blog entry is proof that I didn't check out during any of the hundred-and-some foot drops. If anything, I feel a few years younger than I did before my thrill ride weekend.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Sometimes...

A busy evening today so I offer a contemplation

Sometimes the only way to move ahead is to fall behind.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Respecting Billions

A golf ball can get you a billion dollars?!

Apparently Tiger Woods is on the verge of becoming a billionaire. Now I realize not all of that income is directly from tournament winnings - but it is all based on smacking around a little white ball with a club.

Don't get me wrong, after playing Wii Golf I have nothing but respect for a guy who can knock a ball into a cup in less than thirty swings - but not a billion dollars worth of respect.

I'd have a billion dollars worth of respect for a scientist who found a way to control the weather, or an inventor who figured out how to make an automobile run on air. I might even half a billion dollars worth of respect for someone who figured out a way for me to always have a closet full of clean clothes without my having to remember to run the washing machine.

Maybe I need to reexamine my plans for success. I used to be pretty good at throwing a Frisbee. Perhaps if I brushed up on my skills and joined the Frisbee-golf circuit....

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Menagerie

People are as varied as the trinkets in display windows.

I made this observation while strolling through the Pennsylvania town of New Hope this weekend.
The shops in this rural town offer a full range of shopping options. Store front windows display glassware, clothing, wood crafts, dolls, framed oil paintings, penny candy, ceramics, candles, and more.

The variety of goods obviously attracts folks from all walks of life. Older couples in dress slacks and knit sweaters share the sidewalks with motorcyclists in leather chaps and jackets. Teenagers wearing fur line uggs with cut off jeans willingly make way for middle age folks dressed in crisply ironed pants and oxford shirts.

The streets were an unending parade of Hyundai's, BMW's, minivans, and motorcycles. Drivers of all vehicles waiting patiently for lines of pedestrians to cross the narrow streets - and pedestrians waited patiently for breaks in the traffic.

While I thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere, I couldn't help thinking what a shame it was that such good nature was not indicative of everyday life from coast to coast.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Looney Administration

For most of my life I have managed to stay politically neutral. While my votes have tended to favor one party more than the other, I believed that with a fairly balanced mix of representation the country would manage to find balance in legislation.

Even if it wasn't intentional, the sheer number of legislative actions meant that SOME of the legislation was bound to have SOME redeeming value.

With the current Washington administration offering more of communism than democracy, I have turned to the cartoon network for redeeming value.

Given a choice between CSPAN and Looney Tunes, I find more hope in the efforts of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck.

Friday, October 15, 2010

On the Road

I'll be away from the internet for a few days.

On this blustery day I offer a contemplation

Just as winds sweep both the Earth and atmosphere clean,
So should we breathe mindfully to purge toxins from our bodies and cobwebs from our minds.

Look for a new post on Tuesday, October 19th

Thursday, October 14, 2010

TV Free

There are only two television shows that I watch. Both shows are carried by the same network that will be showing the coming baseball playoffs - which means the shows I watch won't be aired in the coming weeks.

Which means there is absolutely no reason for me to turn on the television until sometime in November.

I am considering using this as an opportunity to go permanently television free.

Motivated Mom and I offered a similar opportunity to College Dude when he was still living at home. We told College Dude that if he went an entire year without watching television we would give him a significant monetary reward. - We ended up writing the check.

Now I have to figure out what I'll gift myself with if I just do away with television all together.

Perhaps a getaway week in an exotic location.

Yeah, I'd exchange 52 hours of television for 168 hours of sun and fun.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Double the Fun

I should have known from the moment I took the faucet apart this was not going to be a quick fix of a leaking valve - because the valve was a design I had never seen before.

A trip (make that trips) to multiple hardware and home improvement stores confirmed that I was not the owner of a popular brand faucet. I would not be returning home with a replacement valve.

Which meant I would be replacing the entire faucet. Make that faucets, because not having a popular brand faucet I would not be returning home with a matching faucet.

Our bathroom has a double sink vanity. Were I living alone I would have replaced just the one dysfunctional faucet , but in deference to Motivated Mom's decorating preferences, I resigned myself to install a matching pair.

Emptying the contents of the first vanity cabinet I found myself staring at a space equivalent in size to a child's car seat - which meant I would have enough room for my head, my shoulders, and half of a wrench.

Wishing I had pursued a career as a contortionist, I wriggled my way into the confined space with motions similar to a cat getting a good back scratch in freshly mowed grass.

I won't detail the number of times I wriggled in and out of first one and then the second space. Suffice it to say I now have eight pack abs.

Next time I'll just put a sponge in the sink to muffle the sound of dripping water.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Stuck in the Middle

Sunrise to the right of me, lightning to the left,
Here I am, stuck in the middle of the two.

Apologies to Stealers Wheel, but those words were running through my mind on the trip into work this morning.

To the east (right) of me, the horizon was washed in the muted yellow common to the hours just before dawn. To the west (left) the purple sky was a dark backdrop to blinding streaks of lightning.

I could almost imagine I was in a shuttle craft, racing along the seam between adjoining universes, trying to make my way back to the Starship Enterprise.

A slight veer to the right and I would find myself headed for a world with dense flora and bright sun. A jog to the left would send me spinning into the maw of universe being devoured by a black hole.

Just a typical day in the workweek.


Monday, October 11, 2010

Glued to the Wall

I'm never going to get used to frogs clinging to the siding of my house.

I first noticed the little green tree frogs last summer. Last summer in these parts was obnoxiously hot and humid (even for someone who loves hot weather) and I thought the tree frogs had mistakenly viewed the mid-atlantic coast as an extension of the rain forest.

Whatever it was that brought them here, the frogs have stuck around - literally.

Coming up the front steps tonight I prepared to battle my way through the critters that gather around the light on the front stoop. What I thought to be a healthy sized moth folded up next to the light fixture turned out to be a frog holding fast with his suction cup feet.

With all of the tiny insects buzzing around, I guess light-side dining is ecstasy for an acrobatic amphibian.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Crabby Feud

Saturday was one of those picture perfect post-summer days. So I was surprised to arrive at the beach and discover Motivated Mom and I would be the sole inhabitants.

Warm sun, soft breeze, rhythmic surf, it wasn't long before I was catching z's along with rays.

At the end of my cat nap, I stretched, yawned, and leapt straight up into the air.

Something frightful was happening. Mere feet from MY feet was a tangle of thrashing legs and clicking claws. A pair of crustaceans were locked in mortal combat.

I had never seen Ghost Crabs this large before. With small bodies and long, spindly legs their appearance was a cross between crab and tarantula.

The battle went back and forth, like a swashbuckling duel, until one crab retreated into its burrow and the other ran - in my direction before dropping into a burrow if its own.

All of which caused me to decide there was somewhere else I urgently needed to be.

Friday, October 8, 2010

High and Dry

All this time you thought people were swearing...

That four letter word starting with S turns out to be an acronym.

Way back when dried manure was transported by ship, it was important the blocks of manure not get wet. Damp manure, besides smelling bad, releases methane gas. If a ship's hold were to fill with methane and a crew member were to strike a match - well, the ship didn't stay afloat for very long.

In order to make sure transported manure stayed dry, the packaging was marked Store High In Transit.

So the next time someone uses that acronym, grab the nearest storage container and place it on the top shelf.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Unidentified Running Objects

It wasn't a dead skunk in the middle of the road - because the eyes reflecting in the headlights were moving.

Whatever occupied the middle of the road was certainly bold. The glowing eyes were angling toward my car rather than away.

A tap of the brakes slowed the car enough for me to catch site of a white form on the shoulder keeping pace with my car. Thoughts of wolves and vampires flashed through my mind and for a moment I thought I was being stalked.

I envisioned the scenario. The as yet unidentified thing in the middle of the road would prevent passage. I would be forced to stop whereupon the beast to my right would leap on the hood of the car, gnashing and snarling at the windshield.

As it turned out leaning on my horn caused both creatures to retreat. But as I passed I clearly saw two dirty-white canines loping along the side of the road.

Ghost dogs, I thought. And the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Heavenly Slides

Double double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble.

This excerpt from Shakespeare's Macbeth was going through my mind this evening as I watched layers of charcoal colored clouds churn across the sky.

Breaks in the clouds were few, but where the clouds thinned seven or eight beams of sunlight stabbed down to the ground.

So defined were those columns of light they might have been solid. I could envision an army of angles and other heavenly beings riding the bright slides to earth.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Misdirected Prognostication

It seems that whenever there is a particularly bad stretch of weather both private conversations and news reports turn to references of what the future weather ramifications are.

Almost as though, already miserable, we are compelled to make ourselves more miserable yet.

The interesting thing is, the portents of what the future holds are based on past attempts to predict the weather. Attempts that I suspect had a much lower accuracy level than repetition suggests.

For every heavy fog in September, October, and November there will be a snowfall in December, January, or February the Farmer's Almanac supposedly says.

Somewhere along the line someone replaced fog with rain and now folks are talking about how we're destined to endure another string of blizzards come the colder months because of the torrential rains we've had this month.

Why is it folks aren't inclined to look for the upside? Hey, the rain has to stop eventually and then we'll be back to blue sky and sunshine are the kinds of portents that should be shared.

Myself, I'm counting on several more weekends spent ocean-side before I worry about what the early months of 2011 hold.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Thumb Obstacle

I was certain my google search was going to lead to the discovery that the tip of the human thumb has somewhere around 1200 nerve endings.

As it turned out, my quest for knowledge was inconclusive, but I'm still betting on at least 1000 nerve endings. I'm going with that wager because it felt like all 1000 endings were exposed when I sneezed while chopping celery and tried to add my thumb to my salad.

For such a little slice, it really made life difficult - because of course I had to apply four layers of bandages to protect my thumb from accidental bumps.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to work a button through a button hole when your thumb is three times its normal size?

Try cracking an egg with a bandaged thumb and see how much of the egg white makes it to the griddle and much gets absorbed in the gauze.

Tying a shoe became an exercise in futility. Pushing a looped string back under itself with an appendage the size of a cannon charge plunger is impossible.

My thumb is back to normal now - and I'm out of the house fifteen minutes earlier in the morning.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Rain Reaction

Rain in October is totally different than rain in June.

June rain encourages us to celebrate growth and life. We splash in puddles and look forward to gardens filled with lush flowers and numerous vegetables.

October rains send us scurrying indoors. We lay logs in our fireplaces and wrap ourselves in blankets like insects weaving a cocoons.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Always an Ark

The primary topic of discussion here on the east coast right now is the rain.

The northern end of Delaware received 7-1/2 inches of rain in 24 hours. A pittance compared to what North Carolina had to deal with, but still enough to wash out bridges, cause mudslides, and close dozens of roads.

Perhaps the most overheard comments had to do with the building of an ark.

And I have to wonder... Why is it that in times of heavy rain people always want to build an ark?
No one ever says, Did you hear the forecast? Time to build a 3 masted schooner. No on ever proposes to hollow out a log for a canoe or mould a surfboard. Everyone's all about building an ark.

Why? Are we so consumed by guilt that we expect punishment from above at every turn - or are we simply lacking in imagination?

Just to put a twist on things, the next time there's call for torrential rains I'm going to say to my coworkers: Gee, I hope there's a sale on bathing suits.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Doggie Millionaire

Should there ever be a canine equivalent of Who Wants To Be a Millionaire our dog would never win.

Testament to this is Destiny's inability to grasp the game of fetch. Oh, she has the basics down - run after the ball and bring it back. But then she gets confused between fetch and tug of war.

Now the whole point of fetch is exercise for the dog. Effort on my part is not in the game plan. Tug of war is out. Besides energy expenditure, I'm not keen on reaching into the dog's mouth to extract a tennis ball.

So....

I throw a second ball. The dog chases that ball - and finds herself in a dilemma. How to pick up a tennis ball in her mouth when her mouth is already full of tennis ball.

Now if the dog was REALLY smart, she would stand at my feet after I've thrown the second ball, continue to chew contentedly on the first retrieved ball, and give my a look that says: Sucker - now YOU have to go chase that one.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Chameleon Spirit

How was it that I hadn't noticed the face before.

I had sat in this very same spot nearly every day during lunch and not seen the face in the crook of the tree. The face was three dimensional - protruding from the surrounding bark. I was close enough to being in a direct line of sight that I felt certain I was being scrutinized.

The question was scrutinized by whom. The face was genderless. If I shifted my eyes slightly to the right, it seemed I was being studied by an old hag. If I looked left, the face became that of a leather-faced American Indian.

Perhaps it was the spirit of the tree that was studying me. Perhaps the shift in appearance was natural. Perhaps, like a chameleon, the tree spirit altered its appearance constantly to avoid detection.

So how was it the spirit gifted me with its appearance this day? Was it a good omen or bad? I periodically pondered those questions during the second half of my workday.

When the quitting whistle blew I returned to the tree. The face was gone. No matter how I shifted my feet or eyes there was simply no tree spirit to be seen.

Had it ever really been there?

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Fight to the Finish

The day started with a sky that made me think of a watercolor painted by an angry artist.

Clouds were layered one over another, abstract shapes of differing shades looking like they had been created by a heavy brush beaten against a canvas. The kind of random smattering that might have been created by an ill tempered child or a disillusioned professional.

As the morning wore on glimmers of sun peeked through here and there, throwing streaks and dashes of rainbow color into the gray - hope glimpsed briefly before being overwhelmed and obliterated by the angry swirls and splatters.

In the end hope and promise won out with a sunset built of bands of glowing pastels.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Do You See It?

Most of us have had the experience of seeing something move out of the corner of our eye and then turning to find nothing but a wall. We then find ourselves questioning whether we really saw the mysterious something at all.

What if we should actually be questioning what we do see?

An article I recently read suggests there is a spot in the very center of our vision - the very center of each pupil - that is blank. In actuality our eyes perceive nothing in those two spots - our brains learn to fill in what it seems ought to be there.

Which has me wondering - what evolutionary default set our brains to fill in based on the surrounding scene. If we look at an empty blue wall, then obviously the entire wall must be empty and blue, so our brain fills in the empty spots with a flat surface of a blue color.

But what if that's not the case? What if those empty spots really allow us to pick up on another dimension? What if those childhood imaginary friends we are taught to outgrow live in that fourth dimension? What if upbringing causes us to "unlearn" an extra dimension? How do we recover that lost gift of extra sight?

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Opposite Views

Many is the time I've been startled after waking from a nap on the beach. Startled to find the sun setting, startled to find the tide having advanced to within inches of my chair, startled to find the empty beach I had fallen asleep on now packed with fellow beach goers.

None of those compares with waking to find a wedding in progress.

The sound of the surf which had lulled me to sleep had obviously also blotted out the sound of chairs being opened, canopies being raised, and podiums being erected.

Rubbing my eyes I noticed the sun worshipers who had spent the day on the beach had turned their chairs to face the outdoor event.

So strange to watch folks in bikinis and swim trunks stare at folks in formal dress, while those in dresses and tuxedos stared back at the barely clad.

I wondered which group was most enjoying the show.

Friday, September 24, 2010

96 on 24

Ninety-six degrees on September 24!!

This is why "Summer" needs to be in the name of every season of the year (except Christmas).

Summer NEVER goes down for the count.

Wooo Hoo! Arms in the air! Show some love!!

Post-Summer ROCKS!!

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Balancing Anger

Busy schedule today and I'll be away from the Internet tomorrow.


So I offer a contemplation:



Momentary anger affords a sometimes necessary emergency release of emotion.


Allowing anger to extend beyond the moment results in more energy lost than benefit gained.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Motivational Priorities

There is no try - only do.

I stared at that phrase printed in big bold letters on the back of a delivery truck and wondered why it sounded so familiar.

I didn't recognize the name of the seafood distributor and was fairly certain I hadn't seen the truck before. So why was the phrase ringing a bell?

My memory kicked in just before I got close enough to the truck to make out the word YODA in smaller print.

Of course. Yoda. The Jedi Master for whom all things were possible.

Could it be that the distributor had to turn to a fictional character for the proper motivational statement or was the CEO simply a Star Wars fan?

I spent some time considering that question - and finally determined that sometimes we have to view the world from an outside perspective in order to identify proper priorities.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Time Lapse Town

The following few days are going to be like time-lapse photography.

Driving past the NASCAR stadium in Dover today I noticed the first two of what will ultimately be several dozen event tents on the fairgrounds. The first of the campers and motor homes had rolled in as well - folks determined to claim a spot neither too far from nor to close to the port-o-potty's.

Tomorrow there will be ten tents and fifty-some vehicles.

Wednesday another exponential jump - and so on.

Until, on Saturday, an entire "shantytown" will have overrun the normally empty hundreds of acres.

An entire town - in a single week. Like watching a flower go from seed to full bloom in a single National Geographic episode.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

You Could Shoe That Dog

How much is that doggy on the sidewalk?
Say is that doggy for sale?
How much is that doggy on the sidewalk?
The one with paws big enough for a Clydesdale.

Yes, the dog we saw walking the sidewalks of Rehoboth Beach today had paws big enough to support a Clydesdale foal.

When we learned the dog was actually still a pup - only six months old - I got the feeling that a blacksmith probably would be able to size a metal shoe to the dog by the time the dog was full grown.

For that the matter, the dog could probably be fitted for a saddle too.

At six months, The slender Great Dane could just about look its master in the eye.

I'd be interested in visiting the dog and owners' residence six months from now. I'd probably find the dog in a king size bed and the people sleeping on bean bags upholstered in plaid fabric at the foot of the bed.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Say... What Color Is That?

How had black turned to gray?

It was 4:00 in the afternoon and the horizon was black as night. According to the weather radio, the storm front was still twenty miles away from the building where I work. So it was with a certain amount of surprise that I looked out the office window fifteen minutes later to find that the leading edge of a black wall had encroached to within a few blocks.

Being a lover of thunderstorms, I was all tingly with anticipation. This promised to be a whopper.

Scant seconds later, heavy raindrops were splattering loudly against the glass. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled.

....And the sky was a dirty gray.

Huh? The clouds had been jet black forty seconds ago. How was it they had spontaneously morphed from the color of ink to the color of dirty dishwater?

Had they ever really been black? As I pondered that question I realized this had happened before - a midnight wall turning to misty gray.

So just exactly what is the real color of a thunderhead?

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Walking the Equator

Whew! I'm exhausted! All that walking - I had no idea!

I learned today that the average person walks the equivalent of five times around the Earth's equator in a lifetime. Based on the results of my google search about the Earth's circumference, that means I'll walk 125,510 miles before I keel over.

Which means I've already logged somewhere around 82,000 miles.

No wonder I go through so many pairs of sneakers!

I should invest in every shoe manufacturer I can find. I'll call my investment counselor tomor... well in a couple of days.

I need to catch my breath first.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Gift Rabbit

You should never look a gift horse in the mouth.

But should you look a gift rabbit in the eye?

I did just that in the wee hours of the morning.

Having turned on the light, I found myself looking at a gift that had been lovingly presented by our cat, Ginger.

The gift, as you have no doubt surmised, was a rabbit. And I was able to look the rabbit in the eye because it was stone cold.... er, ah, oven warm dead. That is to say the rabbit was obviously a fresh kill.

Now I know that I was supposed to ooh and ah in order to let Ginger know how much I appreciated the gift, but at 5:00 a.m. it was all I could do to summon the energy to scoop the deceased critter into a bag and toss it in the trash.

After which Ginger stared accusingly in My eye.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Motor Bowser

I lowered the volume of the radio in my car this morning expecting to hear screams for help from Princess Peach - because Bowser was racing off into the distance on a motorcycle.

Okay - so maybe Bowser from the Mario Brothers video game wasn't really on the motorcycle - but it sure looked that way from my viewpoint.

Cooler morning temperatures have necessitated the donning of jackets by riders of motorcycles.
The motorcyclist in front of me this morning must have been wearing a jacket four sizes too big.
The wind had found its way into the folds of the jacket and blown the jacket up so that the camouflage wind breaker looked like a gigantic turtle shell.

Besides the shell, the only thing visible was the back of a German army helmet. No neck, no shoulders, just a shell and a helmet.

Is it any wonder I was watching for Mario in my rear view mirror?

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Calling at the Wrong Time

My home phone has been ringing off the hook recently. Politicians, friends of politicians, and concerned citizens all have recommendations as to how I should cast my vote in the upcoming primary election.

So....If the politicians have time to call me now, why can't they find the time to call during the normal course of business?

I'd actually appreciate picking up the phone and hearing someone say: Hey, Bruce, there's an important bill in front of Congress right now. Since I represent you, I'd like to know where you stand so that I can make an informed decision on how to vote.

Somehow I think such an occurrence would appear in my diary like this:

Dear Diary,
I was talking with my congressman today and nearly missed seeing the pig land in the front yard.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Coming to a Klingon Center Near You

If you're familiar with Ouija Boards, then you know that when conditions are just right the pointer used with the board moves from letter to letter to spell out a message.

When I fired up my computer this evening, the arrow pointer of the mouse moved across the screen and led me directly to... a link about a new opera.

Now ordinarily I would not have interest in an opera - but I must confess I was intrigued to read that the show, opening in the Netherlands, is sung entirely in the Klingon language - by folks dressed like Klingon's.

Honest injun - Klingon! (I'm picturing Lt. Worf belting out a string of bass notes.)

If you're a Star Trek fan and you just dropped your jaw at this bit of news and are now preparing to visit Priceline for a cheap airline ticket - well maybe you want to google transporter instead. The opera only has a three day run.

The website didn't reference a name for the performance. I can only guess it would be titled A Good Day to Die.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Tuning In

Having spent twenty-some years together, Motivated Mom and I are generally well tuned in to one another.

Tuned in as in being able to anticipate how the other of us will respond to a given situation, event, conversation, etc.

But the tuning dials seem to have drifted a bit of late. Perhaps it's due to my being at the opposite end of the state a couple nights a week. If so, that's going to have to be remedied PDQ.

I hadn't really noticed the drift until this evening. Thursday evening being one of those that I spend at home during the work week, Motivated Mom had an agenda on her mind. I knew what the first part of the evening schedule would be long before arriving home - and without any preliminary discussion.

Like I said - tuned in.

So I was not at all surprised when Motivated Mom grabbed her car keys and said Let's go even before I had finished my dinner.

After reaching what I thought was our sole primary destination, Motivated Mom jigged left instead of jogging right. Suddenly we were headed even further from home.

Whoa! Who filed this part of the flight plan? I wondered.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, there were conflicting agenda for the balance of the evening.

Got to get those wavelengths tuned back in.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Reading Terry Brooks

College Dude and I have been sharing novels recently.

Well, okay, mostly he's loaning and I'm reading and returning - but it's still sharing.

The most recent book on loan is a novel by Terry Brooks. And I'm as happy as a pig in.....

Because there are some authors - and for me Terry Brooks is at the top of the list- who just make me want to sink deep into an easy chair with their book and never move until I've read the last word on the last page.

Mowing the lawn? It can wait.
Fixing meals? Guzzling a gallon of water will keep me full.
Bathroom break? Well, okay I guess I have to leave the chair occasionally.

Actually, I'm forcing myself to periodically set this particular book aside. Because an author can write only so fast. I've already read every last one of Terry's other dozens of books. So when I'm finished this one I have to wait... seemingly forever... for the next great read.

Got to go... it's been thirty five minutes and twenty seconds since I last turned a page.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Houses and Homes

I'm not sure at what point a house becomes a home.

Some houses never make that transition - somehow the people and the structure just never make the necessary connection.

But when the fit is right, at some point the building changes from a house to a home. Homes are comfortable, warm and inviting - a place that protects you from the chaos of the outside world.

This weekend I was reminded that there are two classifications of homes.

The first classification being a quiet retreat that glows from the accumulation of offered and accepted love. A place where the past is fondly remembered, the present is embraced, and the future is welcome to arrive in its own good time.

Classification number two is a gathering place that pulses with perpetual motion. Where loving interaction is fast paced and energizing and where plans are made with a sense that the moment to grasp life by the tail is now.

One classification is not better than the other. Each environment nurtures lifelong relationships. Having a home that can do double duty is a blessing.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Remembering Laborers

As we roll into Labor Day weekend, many of us will kick up our heels for a well deserved break.

Many others will continue to work so that vacationers will still have access to gas for their cars, food for there stomachs, and beds for their tired heads. Many members of the armed forces will continue to man their posts.

For those fortunate enough to have an extended break - be sure to take the time to thank those who maintain the infrastructure that provides safety and convenience during your holiday.

Here's hoping those unable to find jobs from which to rest will know brighter days ahead.


I'll be away from the blog-o-sphere for a few days. Look for a new post Wednesday, September 8.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Alternative Rating System

A new independent ratings system for television has been established.

The first rating under this new system occurred yesterday. A man walked into Discovery Channel headquarters brandishing a gun and demanded that programming be changed.

I'm betting a one gun rating will get the programming director's attention more than a one star rating.

Now I'm sure the full details of the new rating system have yet to be worked out, but I'm expecting the one to four star rating system replaced by:

mildly inferior program - one armed gunman with traditional revolver

substantially inferior program - two armed gunmen with traditional revolvers

grossly inferior program- three armed gunmen with rapid fire handguns

should never have made

it on the air - four armed gunmen with semi-automatic rifles


I'm anticipating a lot of empty slots in the television lineup. Perhaps broadcasters will need to go back to displaying the test signal during down time.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

When Different Isn't

I don't remember exactly when the changed appearance of the silo ceased to catch my attention.

No, I'm not talking about a silo housing a nuclear missile. Nor is the silo even a steel cylinder.

The brick tower used for storing corn silage is just that - a tower. It would not look the least bit out of place if it stood at the corner of an English castle. That is, it used to look that way...

...Until the night traffic was brought to a halt as firemen fought the inferno blazing within the brick column. Having consumed the wooden roof, red and orange flames licked hungrily for the sky despite the hundreds of gallons of water flowing through fire hoses.

The following day the silo was a blackened, burned out corpse. For weeks every time I passed the silo my eyes were drawn to its forever changed appearance.

At some point the transformation ceased to be an attention grabber. At some point I no longer gave a second thought to the tower's state of decay.

Only now, five years past the night I watched dozens of fireman battle flames, am I wondering exactly when an open topped, smoke stained structure came to be what I expected to see.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Marathons and Exits

Road crews are working on adding a new interchange to the highway I travel in my commute.

The construction got me to thinking about a time in my early childhood when my family used to periodically travel the New Jersey Turnpike to visit relatives.

Exit signs were the primary indicators of progress made - and distances yet to travel. In addition to announcing the name of the secondary road served, each exit sign also provided the number of miles to the next exit.

Twenty-three miles between one exit and another was cause for much moaning and groaning from the backseat. When you're a kid who has already been in a car for over an hour and the next milestone is nearly half an hour away - well that's an eternity.

One particularly hot summer afternoon my displeasure with the never ending ride was heightened by the discovery that a new exit had been added between exits 7 and 8. The new exit was 7A and it was very bad news as far as I was concerned.

In my mind, the new exit meant the distance between exits 7 and 8 had to have been lengthened to accommodate this offensive new off ramp.

Exit 7A could only mean - the marathon ride had just gotten longer.

I wanted to stomp my feet and cry foul - but my Dad would have made it clear that I was going to be the cause of his having to turn the car around.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Triple Thinking

Nuclear Winter, Twilight Zone, Outer Limits. These three things were on my mind as I drove into work this morning.

Twilight Zone and Outer Limits because the world seemed "out of phase". I couldn't quite put my finger on why. Perhaps it was the morning mist that couldn't decide if it wanted to be up or down. There were areas where mist swept across the street, obliterating shoulders of the road - and other places where the mist hung just high enough to make it seem I was driving through a tunnel.

Twilight Zone and Outer Limits because the writers for those two television shows were experts and taking ordinary life and twisting it so to reveal the possibility that something totally incomprehensible could be developing beneath a shell of ordinary appearance. This morning it certainly seemed that something opposite of ordinary could be waiting around the next bend.

Nuclear Winter because as the light from the sun finally managed to push through the mist, the eastern sky turned a alien yellow- green. I imagined that if there enough ash in the air, this dim mutated color could be the most hopeful light the day would bring. A light that could just as easily be radioactive glow as light from a distant star.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Have Cat Will Travel

So there I was cruising along the highway when a motorcycle passed me.

Such an event is not so special - but seeing a cat carrier strapped to the seat behind the rider definitely caught my attention.

While I couldn't take my eyes off the road long enough to really study the cat carrier, I could picture the cat inside. All four paws clutching the wire door while wind blew through the carrier at 70 mph. The cat's tail would no doubt have been fluffed to the diameter of a baseball bat while the cat's fur was whipped in all directions.

Had the motorcycle exhaust not been loud enough to make the floor of my car vibrate, I might have heard the cat's howls of dismay.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Reclaiming Summer

We've been shortchanged.

Remember when the official summer season lasted until Labor Day?

Then school districts and colleges quietly shaved a day here, a day there, - and suddenly the summer season ended seven to ten days sooner.

Let's reverse the trend. Let's restore the official summer season - plus add a few days here and a few days there.

I propose moving Labor Day to the first Monday before the Post-Summer equinox so that summer ends when summer really ends.

Further, I propose the weeks between Memorial Day and the new Labor Day all be changed to four day work weeks. NOW we're talking, huh? Huh, huh?

Now, to identify the right charismatic front person for the cause. Maybe Matthew McConaughey. He has a considerable number of silver screen credits to his name. He also has a rugged, outdoor, summertime appearance. As for leadership skills... well Motivated Mom says she'd follow him anywhere for any reason.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Squirrel Memory

I was watching a squirrel scurry from place to place beneath the trees yesterday. Since he neither picked anything up in his paws nor put anything down, I figured he was taking inventory - making sure he remembered all of his hiding spots.

As I child, I accepted without question that a squirrel was able to commit all of his food stashes to memory.

As an adult I still accept a squirrel's abilities, but no longer without question. Because now that I have trouble remembering where I left my eyeglasses mere minutes after I set them down, I want to know how it is a squirrel can fund nuts weeks and months after burying them.

Ask me what I had for lunch last Wednesday, and the best answer I would be able to provide would be ... food. Yet a squirrel can apparently find that particularly double acorn that was buried twelve Wednesdays ago.

How do the squirrels do it? I really want to know because.....

Oh dear. I've forgotten what I was going to say.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Surging Clouds

It was one of those mornings when I couldn't help but take note of the weather.

Overhead slate gray clouds hung low with dark pregnant bellies. Rather than softly contoured, the clouds were streamlined - slanted hard to the west - as though needing to lean forward in order to drag their burdens of moisture.

Row after row the clouds moved with such speed that they sheared apart along their trailing edges. In a way it appeared the ocean had overrun the shores and was now surging across the sky.

I could only wonder at the strength of the off shore storm that was driving the clouds onward and shivered at the thought of being caught up in its power.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Math and Democracy

First of all - my apologies. I promise lighter reading fare in the days ahead. I know you check in here for relief from the stress of the workaday world. It's just that... I feel compelled to seek an explanation.


One of my personal shortcomings is a low tolerance for stupidity....
...Which is why I seldom follow the news anymore.

Over the past couple weeks, ignoring my own better judgment, I have taken to occasionally listening to news programs during my commute. The resultant simmer of anger and frustration that sometimes boils into road rage has convinced me that a car is not the place to listen to the news.

Is there someone out there who can explain the new math to me?

It's now the "norm" to have 9.875 percent unemployment. (We should be "okay" with this for the long term apparently. We should be okay with the U.S. losing a half million jobs in one week.) Only we don't really have 9.875 percent unemployment, the government just chooses not to acknowledge the additional 8 percent who have given up looking for work and have exhausted their unemployment benefits. - Is this something like what we used to call carrying the remainder or rounding off?

The government will now require people who can't afford health insurance to buy it anyway. Then the government can include the underemployed in the new tax that will be applied to worker's health benefits. Thereby ensuring the underemployed will have even less of the money they didn't have before. Is this the new algebra in which people with empty pockets are represented as x's and y's that cause no moral discomfort?

It used to be that the United States was intolerant of even 4 percent unemployment. And it used to be that Americans had the option of buying food before insurance.

So in addition to the new math, maybe someone can explain the new democracy?

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Name Forever

One of those evenings when mental gears just refuse to mesh.

So I offer a short meditation.

Calling something by a name once, you mark it forever.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Port or Left

Either the ship was going to have to veer hard to port or I was going to have to make an extreme left turn.

The top half of the ship's mast rose above the low lying fog. The red running light at the top of the mast blinked directly ahead, as did the the smaller lights at the ends of the yard arms.
It would be only a matter of seconds before the hood of my car met the bow of the ship. And yet my mind refused to direct my foot to the brake pedal.

Such was my disorientation this morning. After months of heading off to work in sunlight I was unaccustomed to the lingering darkness. With ground obscuring fog further adding to the strangeness of what used to be familiar terrain, my eyes and my mind were at odds as to what action was called for.

It was not until after I had barely managed to navigate what should have been an expected turn in the road that I saw the mast for what it was - the communication tower rising from beside the local fire station.

The multiple arrays of antennae mounted to the tower had given the appearance of yard arms on the mast of a sailing ship.

It was with a wave of relief that I continued my journey on solid ground.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Bottle Cap Education

The things you can learn from a bottle cap!

I picked up a bottle of Snapple tea at lunch today - and discovered a small paragraph of information under the cap.

Did you know that no two lions have the same patterns of whiskers - that each lion's muzzle is as unique as a human fingerprint?

I sure didn't. And that got me to wondering.....

Does that whisker thing apply to all members of the feline species? If so just how many whiskers are on a cat's face? Considering the number of house cats in the world, for each to have a unique whisker pattern - well, cats must be carrying around a lot more whiskers than I ever thought.

An internet search provided lots of hits for cat whiskers. But rather than getting an answer to the question of quantity I made a new discovery.

It seems a lot of people are considering trimming the whiskers on their feline friends.

Are they nuts? Have they not seen what a cat can do to the trunk of a tree with front claws alone?

Who in their right mind is going to try snipping at a cat's face with a pair of scissors?

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Mortgages and Migration

The term of the average home mortgage is five years. Meaning that in today's world the average American family packs up and moves every five years.

At first I was startled by that piece of information, but as I thought about it I realized that it fits in with another statistic. The average worker in the U.S. changes jobs every five years or less.

Which means... Americans are in nearly constant migration. I guess that fits when I consider early American history of wagon trains and taming the wild west.

Still, it seems a change from shorter term history. As a kid my impression was that families pretty much stayed put. Oh sure, there was the occasional family that moved in or out of the neighborhood. But for the most part I could count on seeing the same neighbors day after day.

Maybe that's just because I was a kid and one year (let alone five) seemed like a good chunk of eternity.

Then again I don't think so. Certainly a new kid showing up in school was the exception rather than the norm. If families had been moving every five years back then, my graduating class would have been a whole different set of kids than I had known in junior high.

So what's changed? What has Americans in a constant search? And what is it they're searching for?

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Dream'n of Wind

At one time or another we've all woken from a dream and wondered - Where in the heck did that come from?

There was no wondering on my part this morning after waking from an exhausting night struggling to keep a three masted schooner from running aground.

I spent the night manning the wooden steering wheel of the ship. You've seen the steering wheels in movies if nowhere else. A circle of carved oak some four feet in diameter with heavy wooden spindles running from the hub outward to provide hand holds.

The currents and the winds were against me the entire night. Every time I would steer away from land, the wind direction would change and once again the ship would be heading toward a rocky outcropping.

My cries for help went unheard, carried away by the same wind that buffeted the ship, made the canvas sails snap, and howled in my ears.

One of the heavy sails tore loose from the yardarm above and fell over top of me.

Panicked, I struggled awake and..... found myself wrapped in the bed sheet with the oscillating fan blowing on me at high speed.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Happy Birthday To....

Happy Birthday to Motivated Mom who turns.... another year older today.

This is the 27th time I've had the pleasure of sharing in her birthday. I hope I'll share many more.

While I still look for just the right gift, and agonize over the selection of cards in the Hallmark store every year, I know in some respects these things have become secondary.

Not that I don't think Motivated Mom would be disappointed if I forgot such expressions of affection, but the special connection that develops over nearly three decades is a gift in itself - a gift we share equally.

Some relationships are destined to work out. Some relationships are decided at a universal level far above the two people involved. I would not believe such if I had not experienced it myself.

I cannot conceive of spending twenty seven years with anyone other than Motivated Mom.

Happy Birthday my dear!

Sunday, August 15, 2010

King Herman

I was pulling into the parking lot at work on Friday when I noticed a new resident.

The lot I park in adjoins three to four acres of rolling lawn. Furtive movement in the middle of that lawn fell just within the outer range of my peripheral vision. I turned my head to the right but saw nothing. Scanning back to the left, I still came up empty.

I was about to write the movement off to my imagination when the groundhog rose up on his hindquarters. If ever there was a granddaddy groundhog, this was him. Easily the size of a small dog, his loose skin fell about him like the folds of a kingly robe.

Given that I work on the Herman Holloway campus, I immediately dubbed the groundhog King Herman.

I watched as King Herman surveyed the three acres that made up his kingdom. Herman's head ratcheted at an inch at a time, rather like a battery operated wall clock with a jumpy second hand. Herman missed not a single bird pecking for breakfast nor a single car skirting his kingdom.

All of a sudden, in an impossibly quick motion, King Herman disappeared from view and I was left looking at an empty rolling lawn.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Faces and Names

I have this thing with names. I have to speak with someone face to face four or five times before I can connect the name and the face.

As with every rule there are exceptions, but for the most part that's the way it is for me.

This evening I chanced upon the tail end of the Colbert Report. An artist was being interviewed. The artist was talking about a learning disability that prevents him from being able to remember a face. He made the comment that in a face to face meeting, every time the person the artist is speaking to moves their face as little as half an inch the artist sees an entirely new face.

Imagine! In a five minute meeting with a single person, this artist might see hundreds of unique faces and not be able to connect a single one of those faces with the person being addressed.

Now if I had to try to remember the names for all of those faces......

Thursday, August 12, 2010

What Happens When....

What happens when 7000 beach vacationers wake to a rainy morning?

After an extra morning snooze they head for the nearby shopping outlets.

What happens when some 5000 cars descend on parking lots that can accommodate 4000 cars?

Pandemonium.

Such was the case today according to Motivated Mom who went in search of sustainance during her lunch break - and found access to all nearby restaurants and eateries blocked by thousands of perpetually circling cars.

Had some enterprising young men had the proper resources, I suspect they could have put a substantial amount of cash in their pockets by offering refueling on the fly. I'm guessing folks would have paid top dollar to have had five gallons of gas dumped in the fuel tanks of their cars to avoid losing out on the next available parking place.

There was a bright side to all of this. Forced to look for alternative lunch options, Motivated Mom found a new "kickin" food vendor offering superior quality for below market price.

I won't share the name. We'll keep Motivated Mom's find safe for the local residents.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Shadow Side Up

I could have been watching a solar eclipse yesterday without the need for a piece of cardboard with a hole punched in it.

Not that there was a solar eclipse mind you. It's just that while I was driving into work, I realized I was staring directly at the morning sun without so much as lowering the sun visor or blinking my eyes.

With calendars now displaying the month of August, the humidity has thickened into a gray filter covering the entire dome of the sky. The effect is that of living beneath an inverted bowl with everything beyond the bowl mutated from its true appearance.

The sun, a muted orb in the sky, offered less light than a hundred-watt bulb. In truth it didn't look like any star from our solar system at all. Which had me contemplating for a few minutes if I was really even on Earth.

Then brake lights flashed on in rapid succession as inconsiderate drivers made last minute lane changes without the warning of a turn signal and I realized that regardless of how different the sky looked, I was still in the midst of the earthly bi-daily migration.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Snakes and Tails

Snakes, snails, and puppy dog tails, that's what little boys are made of.

There are no little boys hanging around our house these days, but as far as Motivated Mom's concerned there's way too many of the things little boys are made of.

Few things in the world creep Motivated Mom out like a snake. With all of this heat, snakes seem to be coming out of - well, wherever it is snakes usually hide - at an amazing rate. After nearly stepping on a slithering snake measuring a little over two feet in length and having the diameter of a buffalo nickle, I don't know that Motivated Mom will be going into the back yard any more this year.

Then there's the whole puppy dog tail thing. Motivated Mom has ended up spending more time taking care of Media Girl's dog than Media Girl does. And while I think Motivated Mom would really like to love the dog, well... the dog is just too stupid to be lovable.

Ready to start enjoying the solitude of empty nesting, Motivated Mom finds herself accosted on all sides.

No doubt there's a sainthood waiting for her somewhere.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Attendants and Girth

There were two news articles that caught my eye today. One about the Jet Blue flight attendant who pulled a Snagglepuss (exit - stage left) and another about belly bulge.

And it occurred to me that I had unwittingly discovered the underlying cause for irritable airline passenger syndrome (IASP).

Results of a study on waist sizes indicates that if your pants are tight you're going to die at an earlier age than your slim and trim neighbor (yeah, I know, news flash).

Even a person with an average waistline finds airline seats a snug fit. Feeling those stubby arms of airline seats pressing against their girth, passengers who thought they had long lives ahead of them are suddenly fearful that their earthly existence is slipping away at double and triple time speed.

And how do those panicked passengers deal with a suddenly shortening life span? They take out their frustrations on the poor flight attendants. They demand drinks, pillows, blankets, napkins - because after all they're practically on their death bed.

Already stressed out, but free to move around the cabin unlike the slowly suffocating passengers, the flight attendants seek release from their unanticipated indoctrination into intensive caring. That release comes in the form of a little handle that deploys the emergency exit chute.

Voila' the flight attendant exits to the spacious outdoors- leaving the grumpy, space challenged airline passenger to suffer in unattended agony.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Double Stuff

When Motivated Mom and I moved our family from Pennsylvania to Delaware six years ago we decided we were going to downsize and simplify.

As part of moving, we auctioned off the vast majority of our stuff save for what we considered necessities (clothes, beds - the basics).

Even with a goal for an uncluttered lifestyle free of miscellaneous stuff we still managed to fill the biggest Uhaul truck available.

Now that we're hoping to make another move, we're looking around our house and discovering... aaaggghhhh an insurgence of stuff!

How did this happen? How did these knick-knacks, odds-and-ends, and curios make their way into our house beneath our very noses?

I suppose I might not be so disillusioned in my lack of resolve if the the items occupying corners of bookshelves, drawers in end tables, and the rearmost corners of closets were necessary. But the sad truth is - only twenty percent of what's in our house are must-haves.

So we're once again faced with getting rid of stuff we need not have acquired in the first place.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Homeward Bound

A common thread in conversations today was how people always seem to return home when life throws then a curve ball. We started wondering why this is.

Folks who leave their home town usually do so in search of something they're not finding where they've grown up.

So if after leaving plans go awry, why return to the place that had nothing to offer?

Is it because when viewed from the outside the appeal can be seen? Sort of like not seeing the forest for the trees.

Or is it because nature kicks in and the struggling member of the family is suddenly overwhelmed by the need to return to the nest?

Ultimately we decided this deserves more study. Maybe we should apply for a grant.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Struggling Awake

There is a period of time between sleeping and waking when the mind seems undecided as to which is which. On a normal morning, on a normal day the blurred line of reality is of no more concern than a misplaced comma leading to a momentary misinterpretation of a sentence.


But on those mornings when the figures from a lingering nightmare ride on the last vestiges of sleep, that small disorientation grows into a vast wasteland needing to be crossed. There is a fear that to not move fully into the waking world will lead to a permanent haunting by the malformed creatures of dark dreams.


In the struggle to overcome the lethargy that pulls like mental quicksand, bedsheets entangle our legs, sweat dampens our pillows, and surging blood echoes in our ears.


I was caught in just such a struggle the other morning and found myself wondering.... What if I manage to sit up in bed, swing my legs over the edge of the mattress, and find nothing solid beneath my feet?


Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Rescued Yes, Fixed Maybe

The car has been rescued from unintended exile (see the two preceding blog posts).

When the dealership opened and again claimed they did not have the car, Motivated Mom was able to relay the exact location of the car based on my stealth reconnaissance the prior night.

I won't bore all you readers with the dealer's continued inept handling of the repair. Suffice it to say I have reason to doubt the underlying cause of the trouble has been addressed.

But the good news is the car has been returned to us. Has the front grill twisted upward in a grin? Are the headlights sparkling in glee? Is that purring under the hood a sound of contentment?

Yes, I believe the little Accent is happy to be home. Perhaps it will perform like a dedicated trooper after all.

Found But Not Saved

We've all seen the animation movies in which appliances, tools, and automibiles possess human characteristics.


I endowed our Hyundai with those characteristics when I finally found it.


Yes, it was I who finally found our missing car when neither the roadsite assistance company nor the dealer would put forth the effort (see previous blog post).


Long after the dealership had closed, long after the sun had set and the moon risen, long after an evening shower had passed through; I found the car in the deepest, darkest back corner of the dealer's lot amidst vehicles with crumpled fenders, missing bumpers, and cracked windshields.


There in the middle of all that forgotten dilapidation sat our shiny black Hyundai Accent. I imagined I could almost hear the whimpers coming from under the hood. And there on the lens of the one headlight - was that residual moisture from the earlier shower or were there tears forming?


Certain the poor little car was wondering what it had done to deserve to be abandoned, I was tempted to pat the metal roof and whisper assurances. At the last moment I changed my mind. The car would think rescue was at hand only to be be left alone once again. Media Girl had the spare key, not I, and with the dealership closed there was nothing I could do until morning.


To be continued.....




Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Losing a Car

How do you lose a car?

You tow, and you tow, and you tow it.


And in fact Media Girl's car DID get lost on Monday - after being hooked to a tow truck!


We were, of course, disappointed that a new car only two months off the dealer's lot would fail to run.


We called Hyundai roadside assistance. The tow truck arrived, hooked up the car, and took it to the dealership.


Errr, ah, that is, that's where everybody understood the car to be going. But when a subsequent call to the dealer revealed the car had never arrived panic set in.


Phone call after phone call kept leading to an undeniable fact. Nobody knew where the car was.



To be continued....

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Away from Shore

Some people will do anything to catch a fish.

That was the thought going through my mind as I watched a teenage boy push a kayak into the surf and paddle some two hundred yards off shore.

As the boy paddled, the fishing reel on the pole his father was holding buzzed like a fifty pound mosquito as the line spun out. The father was standing on the beach and the business end of the fishing line was attached to the kayak.

When the kayaking boy was far enough from shore to worry about small pleasure craft traffic, he looked over his shoulder and got the okay from his dad to drop the hook and weight into the water.

I smirked, gave a gentle shake of my head, and returned to my book. There was no real fishing going on - or should I say no catching going on. At this time of year the fish tend to stay quite a way off shore where the water is cooler.

While the father / son approach was a unique way to get a fishing line out beyond the warm water near shore, I questioned the effort.

Forty minutes later I was neither smirking nor questioning when the father reeled an eight foot shark onto the beach.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Gentle Lead

It's the closest thing to miraculous I have ever experienced in the world of dog training.

Walking Media' Girl's dog has always been a chore rather than a pleasure. The dog walked the person rather than the other way around. Even a choke color failed to get the dog to walk in a reasonable manner.

And then.... Motivated Mom and I overheard another dog owner raving about a product called a Gentle Lead.

Motivated Mom hurried off to the pet store, bought a Gentle Lead, strapped it on the dog, and....wala ... the dog strolled along at a leisurely pace right off the bat.

If you're a dog owner who struggles with the canine on the other end of leash, you HAVE to get one of these things!

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Guts and Outages

My apologies for my unexpected absence from the blog-o-sphere, I've been busy watching caterpillars crawl.

Okay - not really.

When I'm working out of my base at the northern end of the state, I'm at the mercy of an internet provider whose service is even less reliable than a broken clock.

While the provider will remain nameless, their non-FIOS service was knocked out by severe storms over the weekend. Their commitment to servicing non-FIOS customers being what it is, I expect I'll be able to access the internet "up north" somewhere around the middle of August.

But back to caterpillars. I promised to share their unique form of locomotion. It's been coined the gut thrust.

Now mind you, this discovery came only after scientists received a grant to build tiny caterpillar treadmills which were placed in front of state-of-the art x-ray equipment. All of this because, since caterpillars have no bones or muscles, scientists were dying to know how the caterpillar manages to get around.

After days of trying to figure out how to motivate a caterpillar to use a treadmill, the big discovery occurred.

The little critter actually coils its gut up into a ball at the back end of his body - then "throws" its gut toward the front. The gut thrust drives the caterpillar forward.

I shudder to think about it. We've all had those "burps" that turn out to be a little juicer than expected. Imagine dealing with that every time we needed to put one foot in front of the other.

I know. I know. Right about now you're wishing I had that same unreliable internet provider at my southern base of operations.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Eyes, Weights, and Catepillars

There are evenings when my eyelids feel made of some material a hundred times the weight of lead. On those evenings the effort I put into keeping my eyes open seems no less than the effort I would expend in attempting to hold a barbell loaded with two hundred pounds of weight over my head.

Tonight is one such night and my struggle to remain focused led me to think of a news story I heard on the radio the other day. It seems a researcher has been studying the locomotive abilities of caterpillars and discovered the insects use a method of locomotion heretofore never dreamed of.

I remember thinking that dreaming is exactly what I would be doing if I had to spend hours, days, and months watching caterpillars crawl.

And with dreaming now seeming so inviting a subject, I will head off to do just that.

You will have to remind me on another night to share the earth shattering discovery of just how a caterpillar moves.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Hidden Hall

I had to look twice to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me.

I was sitting at a traffic light in the center of a small Delaware town. The road I was on was not one I traveled frequently so while waiting for the light to change I was taking in the scenery. Houses, old but well maintained, stood shoulder to shoulder on my right. Diagonally across the intersection was a water tower tall enough to have served as a NASA observatory, and directly beneath the water tower was the town hall.

And that's when I did the double take. Because while the facade of the town hall was one and a half stories high and a quarter of a block long, the town hall itself was - a storage shed?

Sure enough. The front of the town hall was a sham.

I started thinking about documentaries I had seen about the making of western movies. Those documentaries had revealed the buildings along the Main Streets in the cinema desert towns were nothing but front walls propped up by angled bracing.

The true town hall I had just discovered hiding behind the false facade was a squat building little bigger than the storage sheds in some of my neighbor's yards. I felt sorry for the one or two folks (because surely there wasn't room for more than two desks) who sat in the shed cooled by a single air conditioner dangling out of the single true window.

The traffic light turned green and I continued on my way - but not before wondering if those carefully maintained homes I had been appreciating were anything more than a movie set.