dark as a dungeon, damp as the dew....

I wonder what other people think

     Specifically I wonder about workers in China, or Thailand,  or other places that produce the copious amounts of goods we consume.
     I got to thinking of that this weekend as I was putting up our Christmas trees.  We have several ornaments from Switzerland, Germany, France, Haiti and assorted European nations.
     But what do the people in China think?  After all, they are not exactly a nation that has religious beliefs that include Christmas.
     Here they are, making pennies a day, (disclaimer:  I have no idea how much they make, but I am thinking it is not much) turning out plastic and ceramic Santas.  Do they wonder what the figure represents?  Maybe they think that's how men in the USA dress for the holidays?
     What about the doggie hats, sweaters, coats and boots?  Some poor guy, one of the billions in the mass production industries, is making this doggie hat thinking, "Huh...maybe my kid could wear that.  I just don't know that the words say."
     Or some 10 year old kid hand painting a doll, (disclaimer:  I do not know for a fact that some countries employ youngsters to mass produce stuff, but I am  making a blanket stereotypically statement about every third world and developing nation) their eyes getting blurry from working 14 hour days and eating gruel....wait a minute, that's a Dickens' novel.  Sorry.  A young person painting a doll and wondering about life in our country.  There could be workers painting and assembling toys for kids their own age!
     Do they ever wonder about what our lives are like?
     We buy Christmas lights for a couple of bucks a package.  Imagine the wages those people have to be  paid to assemble and package those lights if we are only paying a couple of bucks?  They must be working for free!  Do they think, "Hmm, those Americans must have small houses to have such tiny lights." And do they intentionally put one loose wire in every fourth set to purposely drive us crazy trying to get the lights to work?  Do they think we are being extravagant and wasteful for buying the lights and putting them on a dead tree we keep in the house?
     Thinking is too much work for me.
     I am tired.
     Why?
     My dirt pile got moved today!  It no longer occupies part of the driveway.  It is now in the planter I built.
     A big thanks to Noah for his hard work, and to Debbie and Steve for sharing him with me today.
     My arm is a little stiff, but it does not throb.
     Nothing, on me throbs anymore, thank you aging process.
     But that's another story.

oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree.....

I love putting up a live tree

     The thrill of the tree hunt, the effort of cutting it down, the correct positioning of the tree and the lights.... I just love it.  Usually.
     I admit, this year was a little different.  My right arm is a little sore.  I know I should just shut up, but I can't use it for a lot of things....especially cutting down a tree.  (I discovered that when I actually cut down a small dead tree and spent the next two days in hell pain wise.)
     Another change is the size of the group outing.  It used to be four or more, then it became three, then two, for the past several years it was three, but today it was just two...John and me.  Emily has a cold, and Jackie can't walk in a tree field, so I was grateful John came.
     We went to the Prairie Preservation Society of Ogle County cut your own lot on Daysville Road.  One of the people working in the field was a former professor of mine while in the Outdoor Education program at Taft.  A theater friend and mother of three former students was cashier.  I realized how much I had in common with these people:  political views, environmental views, the whole concept of a liberal in a conservative county, and asked myself why I haven't been involved in the PPSOC for the past thirty years or so.  Now I have a membership form and will be getting re-involved with them.
     But I digress.
     We found a very nice tree, John cut it down, loaded it in the car and we brought the baby home.
     Yes, dear, we did see the bare spot, but we figured we would put that toward the back, by the window.
     No, dear, I did not realize how big the bare spot was.  Yes, dear, it is huge.
     No, dear, I did not see the other bare spot.
     No, dear, I don't want an artificial tree.
     Anyway, it's up.  Lit.  Decorated.  It looks a little strange.  If you sit on one side, you won't see any ornaments or lights because there are no branches.
     And I did have an accident.  No, not the pee on the floor kind.  I dropped a special ornament.  It shattered.  It was a present last year and it had never actually hung on the tree.  Hand painted ceramic from Italy.  I must not have got it on the branch firmly enough, because it fell to the floor and just shattered.
     That's the bummer part of the day.
     Here are a few pictures.

Looks darn good, doesn't it!

Ok, there is a bare spot or two

I know it's blurry, but I like it.

The sky was on fire tonight.

Almost done...

on the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

Christmas erupted in my house today

     I lugged up several boxes of decorations.  The timers on the porch lights are adjusted, set, reset and still going on and off at strange times.
     Jackie has gone through several tubs and weeded out some of our no longer wanted decorations.  I squirrel them away for the garage sale I am having next year, the one I have been having every year in my mind, just not in the garage.
     When I was  a little kid, my parents had a small cedar log cabin that burned Maine pine incense.  I remember Mom making the annual trip to the Woolworth's downtown on State Street to buy the cones the little incense holder in the cabin held.  You put the cone in the holder, light it, put it in the cabin and put the roof on.  Sometimes you have to light it twice.
     I would stare at it, the smoke gently floating up through the chimney.  I pictured it as a real cabin in the north woods during a winter storm, with me safe and warm inside by the fire.
     I'm on my third cabin as an adult.  The kids got me one years ago.  It was fine until I accidentally stepped on it.  It was like the Jolly Green Giant (everybody: Ho! Ho! Ho!) running amok through Tiny Town.  I tried gluing it, but that did not hold.  Wood glue does not always work on log cabins.
     As I prepped the cabin this year, I opened an end table  drawer to pull out a box of cones.  There are about 70 cones in the box.  I looked again, pulled out another box.  Then another.  Then another.
It appears, I have a life time supply of cones....7 boxes plus a small bag.

     That wasn't all!  Jackie has some smokers.  These are German wooden figures that hold an incense cone.  You pull the top off, light the cone, put the top back on and the figure smokes.  Of course, they are not the same size as the cabin!

      Every year at the German market in Chicago I buy a pack or two to be sure we have enough.  I think we have 15 packs!!  (I plan on going to the market Dec. 4.  That's a Thursday.  Anyone?  Just call.)

     Holy crow, I must be trying to corner the market on all these stinkers.

     And to top it off, I think Julia is allergic and we can't burn them when she is home, or she sniffles, snorts, drips, coughs and has very teary eyes.  Or it's Emily, and she flees as soon as the smoker gets fired up.  Or it's me.  I seem to not be able to see through the haze.

      So I am going through the cones now.  I have burned three of them today.  Each time I light one, I put the roof on the house and stand back, close my eyes, and I can almost feel my mother's hand as she leads me into the Woolworth's downtown.

     Sometimes it just feels good to go back in time.

dum do do dum, can't touch this

I think I might explode

    No, not from anger.  Not from gas.  Not from anything but too much food!
    Turkey, ham, sweet potato pie, dressing, pecan chocolate chip bourbon pie, appetizers, desserts....... holy cow, I think I popped a button!
     Every year I swear I am going to cut back, then the gravy boat appears and I'm eating like it's the last day on Earth.
     When Jackie and I were newly weds, my brother invited us up to Rockford for a dinner.  Might have been Thanksgiving, maybe not.  Anyway, I ate and ate and ate.....Carl commented I was eating a lot.  I said, "I am eating for three."  He looked and me and said, "Is Jackie pregnant?"  And I said, "No, three as in three days.  We're broke."
     We have bought  a roaster to cook the turkey, which frees up oven space.
     But it is strange.  We cooked the bird at 325 and after two and a half hours, the bird looked obscene!
     Seriously!
     It's back legs had spread wide open, and I was waiting for her to say, "Come on big boy, get my stuffing."  (I actually mean the bird's stuffing...it was spilling out because the legs were spread so wide.  If you thought something else, shame on you!  It's a turkey!!)
     And the body seemed to shrink.  I swear, it was half the size from when it went in the roaster.
     This happened last year too.  I don't know if it is roasting too high and too fast, or whether we have incredible shrinking bird syndrome working in the house.
     The turkey was tasty, not dry, so I am not sure what is up.  Next year I think we will oven roast it the day before and just warm it up.
     My niece Cindy had an interesting Thanksgiving theme this year.  She had invited a bunch of people and they were to bring something they had never made or had before.  Cindy was making a casserole with apples, yams, and I think pears.  I hope she sends a report on how it tasted.
     In the spirit of accuracy, I have a couple of corrections.  When I wrote about Julia's birth, we had a 65 Chevy, not a 61.  John remembered that.  He remembers lots of details about past events.  I can't even remember this morning.  Jackie noted that the infamous pumpkin pie without sugar was served at my parents' house at a Christmas dinner.
     I do have a Thanksgiving tradition.  After everyone is gone, the house picked up, and Jackie asleep; in the quiet of the midnight hour, I munch on a turkey drumstick.
     I imagine that is not a good idea, but I'm doing it anyway.
     I just hope I don't break any windows when the last buttons pop.
     Hope your Thanksgiving was happy and your Friday not black, but a rainbow of color.

No place like home for the holidays

I love Thanksgiving

     Most people do.  I have great memories of Thanksgivings past.  Sometimes like Jacob Marley, they can haunt me.
     We were newlyweds.  We went to my brother Dennis's for dinner.  Jackie made pumpkin pie.
The first mental image of this meal was, we ate at a ping pong table set above a pool table.  When we sat down to eat, our chins were almost resting on the table.  We had to reach up to eat, because our arms were considerably below the table.  Somewhere there is a family photo, and we all look like bodyless heads.
     We muddled through dinner and dessert was next.  I think it was Jackie who went to the bathroom when we are all eating pie.  Very quietly eating pie.  With lots of whip cream.  Jackie came back, sat down, took a bite of pie and made a terrible face.  "I forgot the sugar," she yelled.
     You have to give tmy family credit,  they were eating it and not saying a word.
    Often in those early years, we tried to make both sides of the family happy.  We would rush to one house, eat, rush to another house, eat, then drive home... more stuffed than the turkey and just as dead.  We eventually stopped doing that at Thanksgiving, but did continue for a number of years at Christmas.
     In high school, I invited the guy who ran the newsstand I worked in after school.  My mother was mortified and went over and politely uninvited him.  I think his slovenly habits and hobo like attire worked against him.
     I remember one year it was just Jackie, Julia and me.  We lived on Southview Drive, and I may have been working at a hospital in Rockford at the time.  We ate, then sat and looked at each other.  It was the most depressing dinner ever.
     One year we went to an in-laws and they served ham.  Ham!!  I never let her forget that she violated all American traditions plus deprived me of the dinner I had been dreaming about.
     There have been uncooked turkeys, undercooked turkeys, burnt pies, undercooked veggies....thankfully never at one time.
   Vague recollections of long departed aunts and uncles flood my mind at this time of the year.  They were always old, and I never, never imagined life at that age.
     Well, here I am.  And I am thankful for my health, my wife and darling daughters, my extended family, my friends, and all the people who have supported me by their friendships, caring, and willingness to put up with me.
     A blessed Thanksgiving to all.  And to all, good night.

If I ruled the world, everyday would be the first day of spring

I am not feeling very funny tonight

     It just seems the world is hurting.
     The events in Missouri, the tragic death of a young man, the confrontation between police and protesters, the frustration and hate that has surfaced.
      I have read news stories of the shooting.  I have read stories about the refusal of the grand jury to indict.  And I am confused.
     I don't think any person wants to cause the death of another.  I don't think that is in us.  I can't imagine being put in a position where I have to make a split second decision on whether a person is dangerous or not and whether to fire a weapon or not.  You can't convince me that that officer shot because he wanted to.
     And I understand a population that has seen young people being jailed and killed by a system that is not seen as fair, would at some point erupt.
     What I don't understand is how we got here.
      All people should be treated equally.  Yet, we know they are not.   As a people, as a nation, we need to make it a priority to change that.
     I just wish I knew how that can be done.  And how I can help.
     Because it's not just a black problem, or a Missouri problem  It's our problem.

   
   

slippin and a slidin, weeping and a moaning.....

I almost forgot how to drive in winter conditions

     And I wasn't the only one!  I just turned onto Flagg Road when I saw a white car in the ditch, trying to get out.
     I hit my brakes.....but just went on down the road.  So I called Jackie and had her call the county police in case the person needed a tow.
     I was not going fast.  At least I didn't think I was.  I approached 20th st. and the light turned red.  I hit my brakes...and kept going forward.  I laid on my horn and waved to people as I continued sliding through the intersection.
     Later I came back the same way and there was a wreck on that corner.
     TV news was filled with reports of cars in ditches, trucks jackknifed, motorists stuck.
     Imagine what we would be like if this was a real snowfall, like in Buffalo?
     And while we are at it, if you have six feet of snow on the ground does it even make sense to shovel your car out?  You can't go anywhere!  Just leave it.  With luck, you'll find it in the spring. Think of all the money you'll save by not buying gas!
     I have a hazard on my driveway this year....my dirt pile never got moved.
     But there is hope.  I think there will be some 50 degree days in the next two weeks.  Warm weather, and a couple of young boys to man shovels, and I will be ready for winter.
     My timing was right.  The snow blower got picked up Saturday for a tune up and oil change.
     Again, I could have done that earlier.  Could have moved the dirt.  Could have brought in the stuff from the yard I meant to do in October.
     Could ofs and should of....or is it ovs?  sounds better......don't matter in life.
    It's what you actually do.
     And I'm going to bed.

I've been working on the railroad

I hung some curtain rods

     That relatively simple task can be accomplished in less than half an hour by most people.
     It took me the better part of the afternoon.  And I am not done.
     It all started when someone decided we needed a new bedspread in the blue bedroom.  That's the one Julia uses when she comes home.  So we got a new bed spread.  It was white, with a pattern.  The curtains were off white.  So we had to get new curtains.
     Mind you, the house is only 2 years old.  Actually, we just hit our two year anniversary!!  Woo hoo!  Could celebrate on the patio, but.......
     Anyway, we bought white curtains.  Which means the off white could go in the yellow room, where the computer is and where I sleep at night when my shoulder hurts too much to stay in bed.
     We bought quality rods.  My eyesight isn't as good as it once was, but I believe the rods were made in Chana.
     I got out my stud finder, which immediately lit up when I held it against my chest.  (Beth, stop laughing.)  Got my mini step ladder and found the stud, realized I didn't have a pencil to mark it.
Got off the step ladder, got the pencil, climbed back up and marked where the stud should have been.
Went to the basement and got my drill, drilled a pilot hole.  No stud.  Had to use plastic anchors.   Went to the basement to get bigger bit.  Went back to the basement for bigger, bigger bit and brought the whole shebang upstairs.
     Went back up the step ladder...I think you get the picture.
     It was like a stair stepper workout.  Up, down, up, down.  I can't believe I could drop a screw so many times.  Next time I have to remember not to put on hand lotion before doing a project.
     I finally got the small window hung.
     The bigger window went a lot faster.
     It's never good when it goes good.
     I need a center support for the wide window.  The center support that comes with the rod will not work.
     So it's a alot like Dolly Parton at 90... a little saggy in the middle.
     I mounted the brackets to the wall, and the middle bracket has to mount on the trim.  All three brackets are the same size.  If I mount the middle bracket to the trim, it pushes the middle out about one half to 3/4 inch.  Plus, the bracket is wider than the trim.
     Damn.
     But they are up.  My next challenge is to find something I can use for a center bracket.
     And it has to be black, because that is what the rod is.
     This was a relatively easy task...wonder what the ceiling in the basement will be like??
     Time will tell.

they say it's your birthday.......

Julia was born on this day....Nov. 22

     I had a 61 Chevy Impala.  It used to be owned by a Chicago cop, and he installed a secret kill switch under the dash.  Turn the switch off, the car won't start.
     So there we are.  Nov. 21, a Saturday night.  Jackie and I were staying at my parents' house on the north side because that was closest to the hospital.  John came over and we fixed him up with Janet, a nursing student at the U of I.
     We were playing cards at the dining room table.  Jackie had a bad back ache.  At about 11 she went upstairs to the bathroom, and minutes later yelled down, "My water broke."
     So we jumped into action.
     John ran to get the car, which was parked on the next block.  Jackie was having contractions.  We are in the house when John comes running back up yelling, "The car won't start."
    Damn kill switch.
     I grab the keys and race to the next block, get the car and drive back and pick up the whole group.
     We drive to the hospital and John lets Jackie and me off in the ER and takes Janet back to her dorm.
     And the waiting starts.
     Now Jackie had the same doctor who delivered her....Dr. Friedman.  I don't know how old he was, but he was, how shall I say it, not young.  (And the doctor bill for his services from first visit to delivery was $150....paid in small amounts over the 9 months.)
     She sleeps, I sit in the waiting room.  At some point John had come back and gone home.  During the morning, Billy G. had stopped by to wish us well.  (Billy lived across the alley from John and he was going to be a Catholic priest until the 68 Democratic National Convention, when he snuck on to McGovern's floor in a Chicago hotel, met a nice young Jewish girl, fell in love and got married.)
     Come to think of it, I only saw Billy twice after we got married.  Once when Jackie was having Julia, and again when she was pregnant with Emily.  Good thing he didn't come around more often!
     Dr. Freidman came out and told me it was going slow and he wished she would hurry up because he had Bears' tickets and it was a noon kickoff.
     Sometime after 12, she went into labor and they wheeled her into delivery.  I was not allowed.  I don't believe I even had the option.
     What seemed forever passed until he came rushing out.  "It's a girl.  Every body's fine.  I can still make the second half." And he was gone.
     Just seconds later a nurse came out carrying this bundle.
     Julia had been sideways.  Luckily another doctor was also delivering a baby and when our doctor ran into trouble, the other guy stepped in.  He had to use a forceps to reposition her in the birth canal.
     And she had had a bm during the delivery process.
     So the nurse has this little bundle and says to me, "Would you like to see your beautiful daughter?"
     I looked at our baby.  She was covered with brown shit, blood, mucus and had these huge red marks from the forceps all over her head.
     I nearly threw up.
     "She'll look a lot better once we clean her up," the nurse said.
      I hope so galloped through my brain!
     And she did.  She was a beautiful girl.  The red marks faded in a few days, everyone was healthy, and the Bears beat the Bills 31-13.  Bobby Douglas was the Bears QB back then and was a terrible passer.  That day he had 8 completions in 20 attempts, and four of the catches were TDs. (I looked that up!)
     Dr. Freidman made it for the second half.
     Now Jackie may dispute some of this....but she can do her own blog.  This is my story, and I'm sticking to it.
      Happy birthday!

the answer, my friend is blowin' in the wind

If you ask a question, I will give an answer

     The problem is, it's not always the right answer.
     I was once stopped by a guy in front of the Walgreen's on Sycamore.  He asked me if I knew a fish shop on Peace Road.  I told him yes, it's just the other side of Farm n Fleet.  He said he had the address, but was confused because I wasn't pointing to Peace Road.  I said they moved recently.
I think I sent him to Culver's.  He was looking for the fish place on Peace Road across from Jewel.
     At BZ I have sent people the wrong way to the smoking areas, the wrong way to the bears, the wrong way to the restaurant.
     And friends, it isn't always me they are asking a question!  It could be a question I heard randomly walking down the street and I feel compelled to answer....incorrectly!!
     I don't do it on purpose.  I genuinely believe I know the answer.  Then I open my mouth.
I am the opposite of a know it all.....I am a don't know it all.  I guess I don't know what I don't know, but now I know that.
     There is something humbling in saying, "I don't know."  I don't know (get the irony?) if anyone wants to come across as not being helpful, but I know I sure don't.   So I answer.
     Can you tell me how to get to .....
     Yes.  Go down three blocks, turn right.
     And after they leave, I know it isn't correct but it is too late to stop them.
     I have given wrong lines to an actor in a play in an attempt to help them, but it really screws everybody up because they give the wrong lines that I didn't know in the first place!
     Ask me what the forecast is....I'll tell you.
     Ask me what the temp is, I'll tell you.
     But it won't be right.
     I am not lying, really.  I am trying to be helpful.
     One time when I was subbing I was talking about how important math was and that sometimes you have to do it in your head.  A child asked me if I could do 475 x 89 in my head and I game him an answer of 32, 645.  They were pretty impressed until some smarty pants in the back got out their calculator and said I was way off!
     OK, that time I lied.
     But generally if you are asking me for directions or other information, I will give an answer that I truly believe is correct, accurate and genuine.
     But it's very often wrong.
     So beware.

Midnight special, shine your ever loving light on me

I started hanging Christmas lights today

     Yes, it was cold.  Very cold.  Yes, I know I could have done this when it was warmer, but for some unknown reason, I decided to wait until just before Thanksgiving.
     Yes, I understand it got abnormally cold early this year, but the weather gods did not check with me on when I was hanging lights.
     I got two strands up.
     I don't know if they work, but they are up.
     I promised Jackie I would finish Saturday.  Hopefully the rain will not come till afternoon and I will find some young kid eager to make a few bucks to come in the morning and move my dirt. Otherwise, I will wait until after Thanksgiving, for the dirt.  Lights are going up Saturday, rain, shine or wind chills of -60.
     I don't have a lot to hang, but enough to not want to do it when it is 9 degrees outside.
     And yes, I should have moved the dirt, washed the windows, waxed the cars, brought in the hose reels and mowed the yard one last time, but normally I would have until Thanksgiving to do that.
     Normally.
     But my shoulder hurt too much to do most of that.  It still hurts, but not as badly.
     I came out of my bike accident better than Bono.  He crashed his bike in Central Park and had an arm so badly broken they put plates and screws in it.  I think he had a broken bone in his face too,  or U 2.
     I still have to put window covers on the basement windows.  Last year they filled with snow and I actually got into them and shoveled them out.  I had a hard time getting out.  I thought I would stay out there forever.  Coyote chow.  My yelling would not have brought any help because I am always yelling about something.
     Thus, (I love that word!)  I will be braving the elements to put up lights, and maybe move dirt.
      The dirt is probably frozen, so it will not be easy to move.  I will need a jack hammer and some explosives, but I will get it moved.
       And I think I will go to town Saturday afternoon and relax with a cup at Cypress House.  After the lights are up.  The dirt will just have to wait for Mother Nature to give one more window of opportunity for me to miss.

School days, school days, good old golden rule days,

My 50th high school reunion is next year

     I want to go, but I don't want to go.  Those people will be pretty old.  Many of them will have gray hair, or thinning hair, or no hair.  Pot bellies.  All they will talk about is their surgeries and aches and pains.
     Do I really want to pay a lot of money to endure that?
     I actually got an e mail from the reunion committee, asking me for my e mail so they could maintain contact.  I thought I would e mail them back and tell them they had the wrong e mail for me.  I don't know if it was funny.
     There are a lot of people I want to see from high school.  Connie, the Greek, who kept me in trouble in several classes.  Rick and Ken, guys I used to play baseball and football with in the sandlots of the north side.  Suzanne, my adopted sister.  She cooked my supper a couple of times when I had to work nights at the National Tea store.  She was extremely bright, which was why we never dated.  Chris, who I was a locker buddy with freshman year and who was a wild guy, and pretty funny.  We actually went on a double date...with girls!
     Some people I see often, like John and his brother Frank.  I don't need to go to a reunion to have fun with them.  FB buddy Georgette may be there, and I haven't seen her since the 40th reunion and she is fun to talk with.
     Others have already left us, and it was far too soon.
     At maybe the 35th or 40th reunion, I heard a wild laugh from the next table.  I knew it was Boom Boom.  I turned toward her and yelled, "Boom Boom!"  She was shocked, because no one had called her that since high school.  Funny thing was, she knew exactly where Rochelle was because her second husband came from Franklin Grove.  I think she had a couple more after that one.
I did not go to all the reunions, in fact, I don't remember which ones I did attend.  I think I have been to three, maybe four.  Jackie went to the first one with me and we watched as my prom date's husband staggered into the women's bathroom because he was too drunk to tell the difference.  She didn't want to go to any more after that.  And I understand.  I don't think she has gone to any of hers either.
     Another time one of the  A-listers stopped at our table and looked at us.  "I know you, I know you, I know you, I don't know you, don't know you..." and walked on, no hello, no how are you.  He was kind of a jerk in high school, and he went to NIU so I ran into him a couple of times there.  He is one of the people I really don't care to see again.
     But it is the 50th reunion.  Chris, Ken, Rick, Connie, Suzanne did not come to any of the ones I went to.  Maybe this one will be the charm and I'll get to reconnect with people I liked in high school.
     Notice, there were not many names.
     And now that I am thinking about it, I'm leaning toward going.
     After all, how bad could it be?

old friends, sat on a park bench like bookends

I have been thinking about being old lately

    When we drive to the airport on 294 north, we pass a tall building...must be 25 stories.  It is in the middle of what looks to be an industrial zone.  The tollway is in front, a rail yard behind it.  A road next to it and a huge parking lot, which never has a lot of cars.
  It's a retirement home.  It scares the crap out of me, because I don't want to go there!!
     I want to go to a place like in Rochelle.....but I can't remember the name of it.  San Gabriel!  That's it.
     I want to go to a place that still allows the residents a little dignity.
     After all, nothing says dignity like having pudding drip down your chin as you gum your dessert.
     I know, 70 is the new 60.  I want to say that is pure bull shit.  70 is 70.  Your body starts to betray you, one shoulder at a time, and that's in the 60s.  I can't believe how many people are in PT for shoulder issues.  I would ask for a show of hands, but many of us can't.  That's why meetings with a lot of seniors rely on voice votes.
     Hearing goes.  Soon you find yourself saying, "What?" a lot but refusing to admit you can't hear well.  That also explains some decisions made by groups of seniors with bad hearing.  Which is better than a group of Scandanavians with bad herring.  But I digress.
     You repeat things.  Stories, memories, things you've already said.
     You forget where you put things.  Like car keys, or letters from the government that tell you you owe $13,000 in back taxes and they will confiscate your home and remaining teeth with gold fillings unless you pay now.
     You repeat things.  Stories, memories, things you've already said.
     I put leftovers in the pantry last night.  Actually, I went in the pantry with the leftovers and realized I was in the wrong place.
     But what if I had to go to the bathroom??
     Small tasks become harder, which is about the only thing in your life that gets hard.
     You repeat things.  Stories, memories, things you've already said.
     Technology overwhelms.
     You begin to wear saggy baggies....not intentionally, but because you forgot your belt or put on somebody else's pants.
     And I wonder.  What will happen to the people I care for?  Will I still be able to see them?  Hear them?  Will they be able to see me, feel me, touch me.....wait, I am channeling the Who.
     I have come to realize a lot of things.  I'll never be president.  I won't even be a congressman or state rep.  I'll never be a famous tv star, hobnobbing with Jennifer Anison or Tom Hanks.
     And all that is ok, as long as I don't end up with a view of the tollway and railroad tracks, false teeth and no one to talk to.
     That would be sad.

If I could put time in a bottle

The concept of time completely escapes me

     Seriously!  I just have a hard time with it.
     I had an MRI today.  Nothing to do with time, except to emphasize I can be places on time.   I did the MRI at Rochelle Community, and it was a pleasant experience.  I had headphones and could listen to Sirius XM, so I tuned into the Buffet station.  During the test, I closed my eyes and pictured my friends Carrie, Ross, Steven, Stacy,  Chris, TC, Erin, Todd, Curt, at a concert in the warmth of summer, singing along, dancing, having fun......sigh.
     Anyway, here's how time functions with me.  Or doesn't function.
     I was at NIU, taking a political science course.  My sophomore year, spring semester.  I studied.  I was ready.  I was walking to class and saw a couple of people from my class.
    "Where were you?" they asked.  "We didn't see you at the test."
      I was on my way to the test, which everyone else in the class had finished!  I was two hours late.
     I found the professor.  He was a dour guy with no sense of humor.  Or he was really funny and I didn't get any of his jokes.
     I  said, "I had the wrong time.  I missed the test.  What am I going to do?" I asked, in quite a panic because I was on continued academic probation. (I do hold the school record.  Academic probation five of my nine semesters.)
      He looked at me and said, "I guess you will fail." And went back to cleaning off his desk.
     I explained my situation, and he said he did not have another class and was really busy packing because he was moving to California the next day.
     He did take pity on me.  He invited me over to his apartment to take the test.  So there I sat, on his balcony, while his wife was packing boxes and he was grading the exams.
     I did pass.
    When Jackie and I started dating at NIU, we were involved in a campus group called Canterbury, which was part of the Episcopal Church.  There were several of us in the group.  We talked, ate pizza, put on plays, and liked each other.
     One of the guys, Jerry, decided to become a Catholic priest and there was a going away party for him.
     Directions were to park across the street from the house in the field.
     Jackie and I pulled up.....not a car in sight.  I figured we were early.
     I rang the bell, a woman named Joyce answered and looked at me in disbelief.
    "I know, I am early....first ones here," I boasted.
     She shook her head. I was actually 24 hour late.  The party was the previous day.  Jerry was on his way.
  I have missed appointments, forgotten dates, lost opportunities, because of time.
     Last Friday I had a PT appointment.  I have worked extra hard at being on time.  So I wrote down 10:30 in my date book, appointment book, notebook.  And then I thought it was noon, so I missed it.
    Time is not my friend.  But then again, maybe it's all in my head.

Bear down, Chicago Bears....

I may have broken a vow today

     I made that vow last week, during the blowout in Green Bay.
     I vowed never to watch a Bear game again.  Well, that lasted less than a week.
     Emily got some tickets from Kevin.  (Thanks!!  Great game!!)  So I broke my vow and went to the game.
     Great seats.  Good people around us!  (Four of them from Rochelle)
     Good crowd.  Nobody was obnoxious around us, despite one or two Vikings fans in the midst.
     Good weather.  Ok, it was cold, and snowy, but the wind wasn't very strong so it did not seem as cold as the NIU game last Tuesday.
     I think this was my first time in the new Soldier Field.  I remember going with Julia years ago, but I think it was before the remodel. I also remember a preseason game some years back.
     The Bears did almost everything right today.  Sure, they had almost three times the yardage of Minnesota yet only won by a score.
     Yes, Cutler got intercepted on a poor throw, made off balance, but he also threw three touchdown passes.
     And the defense seemed to have a little life.  Maybe those old guys are not washed up after all.
     So, no more words....just pictures.

20 minutes before the game and the stands were pretty empty

The suites would be sweet on a cold day!

Looking toward the lake and harbor

Stadium club...and yes, they let me in!

The historic columns of Soldier Field

Hear come da Bears

I am upside down, not the flag

Roof tops.....not like Wrigley at all!!

Knock, knock on wood.....I said a knock, knock, knock on wood

I bought a bunch of stuff today

     Wow, I spent money like I had it today!  Well, actually I have not spent it yet....when the CC bill comes, then I will spend it.  Actually Jackie will.  For some reason she doesn't let me pay bills.
     I have been looking for an area heater to put in the basement.  If we have the fireplace on upstairs, the basement gets chilly.  The fireplace raises the temp, which prevents the furnace from kicking on.  It's a problem when the person in the lower level (Julia or me) doesn't want the snot to freeze on their nose when watching TV.
     So I looked on line, went to Menard's, went to Lowe's.  I knew what I wanted, and both the DeKalb Menard's and the Rockford Lowe's had it.
     I asked the Lowe's guy, Stephen, about it and he checked his computer and found they had two in stock...but he had no idea where they were.
     I went on to buy the furring strips for the ceiling project.  (John, I will be calling.  Both of you.  Maybe Dan too.)
    He found me and said he located the units.
     We went back to his area, found it, plugged it in, looked at it.....but it was $30 higher than Menard's.
     I felt bad, because this guy had clearly spent a lot of time in looking for an item I was basically tire kicking.
     I told him I wanted it, but to be honest, the Menard's in DeKalb had the same unit, only $30 cheaper.
     He went on line, saw it at the DeKalb Menard's, and gave it to me for the Menard's  price, including the 11 percent rebate, which made it nearly $40 less!!
     So I bought it.
    Normally I don't say things like that....but from now on I will.
     This has been a good week for complaining!!
     So I came out a winner.
     And you can too by purchasing your Daily Cash Giveaway calendar from me.  They are only $20 and you can win $25. $50, $250 even $1,000 in the daily drawings!  Plus, you get buy one dinner,  get one free at Abraham's, and buy one dinner, get one for half off at Flight Deck and also Beacon on the Green!!  That alone pays for the calendar!  What a deal!!!
Let me know how many you want....but don't delay, the sales will stop soon.

Hurts so bad, it makes me hurt so bad.....

I get so frustrated, it hurts

     This getting old stuff is very tiring.
     I tend to get confused with dates and times to begin with, so throw that in with the aging process and you get an accident waiting to happen.
     Today, for instance.
      I had a physical therapy appointment.  I get up, dust the floors, do some chores, tell wifey that my appointment for pt is 12 noon.
     Now to be sure I don't miss an appointment, I write them down on the house calendar.  (Which is a Rotary Cash Giveaway calendar...great for winning money and writing down important events.  It can even be used to track the days of the week!  I have some for sale...only $20.  Let me know.)  I also write them down in my appointment book.  This week, because of multiple activities on multiple days, I have also written all my appointments and must do items in a small notebook, under the day.    So today, Friday, I wrote down all my appointments.
     When I got a call from a museum staffer asking if I could help at a program, I said it all depended on what time because I had pt Friday.
     At 12 noon.  Which means I need to finish up, clean up and get going.  As I am walking to my bedroom I glance at the house calender.
     Very clearly it is marked:  PT  10:30.  It is now 11:15.
     I looked at the hospital issued schedule.  10:30.  I looked at my appointment book.  10:30.  I look at the list of daily activities.  10:30.
    There was only one place it was 12 noon, and that was in my mind.
    And when I met the museum people, they were glad the program was in the afternoon because I could go since my pt appointment was.....10:30, cause that's what I told them!
     I wrote it down 4 times and still got it wrong!  Holy smokin' firewood!  How many times do I have to write it down?
     I know now that after I write it down everywhere, I have to check in the morning.  I didn't do that.
     Lesson learned.  Again.
     All this was after I broke the candle holder from Volterra I got for Jackie last year in Tuscany.
     Not exactly a good start to the day, but it ended great with a wonderful dinner and time spent among friends.
      Now if I could be like Frozen, and let it go, I'd be much happier.

Don't worry, be happy

I thought I was dying today

     I know three people who have had strokes recently.  For someone who can not watch medical shows because he catches all the diseases shown on the shows, knowing someone who had a stroke is a seed planted in the the imaginarium.  (That's like an aquarium, but only for thoughts and strange ideas.)
     Today I had left over meatloaf, a piece of cheddar cheese, chips and a diet pop for lunch.  (I know...don't give me any crap about having a diet pop AND chips.)  I have had all of these foods before. Nothing new.
     I was sitting at the table and I started tingling.  And I was flushed.  Hot.  Tingling.  Like a thousand ants crawling over me and biting me.  Or uncles.
     This went on for about 10 minutes.  I got a headache.  I felt dizzy.
     So I went to get our home monitoring blood pressure cup.
     Put it on....deader than a doornail.
     Found two new batteries, put it on turned it on.....and it pumped up, took a reading, and gave an error notice.
     So I did it again.  It read 224 over 139.  I thought that was high.  My body started to burn up.
I took another reading.  236 over 142.
     I said, "Jack, you need to take me to the doctor.  My BP is really up.  I don't feel well."
     She said, "Why not go to Walmart and have it read in the store?"
     "The doctor is right there....I think I need to go to the doctor," I said with a little urgency and maybe a trace of panic.
     She came over and said, "Let me take mine.  Maybe it's not working right."
     Hers was 130 over something.
     I put it on again, turned it on.....232 over 168.
     I started to sweat.  This was not good.
     "It's going up....we need to go."
     She comes over and looks at me and says, "You have it on backwards.  It goes over your wrist, not the back of your hand."
     I put it on my wrist, turned it on......132 over 70.
     Took it three more times, was pretty consistent.  She finally took it away from me before I broke it.
     I was still itching and stingy.  My chest itched like crazy.  My legs were stinging and hot.
     And suddenly, it all went away.  Poof.  Gone.
     Maybe I am going through menopause.  I was so hot, then cold, then hot and tingly.
     One thing I can tell you for sure, I don't use as much salt as I used to.

Are you ready? Yes, I'm ready. Are you ready?

I am gettting ready to get ready for Christmas

     Oh, it's not as simple and you'd think!
     Take the lights for outside.  They have to be checked, lines replaced, dead ones recycled.  (Yes, recycled.  There is a bin outside the fire department, I think, for burned out, useless strings of lights.)
     So I am getting ready to test the lights.
     Now that means I have to clean up the mess I parked in front of the 24 boxes of Christmas decorations we have.  And that is downsized.
     I started with the garland.  We have some lighted garland we bought in 2008 from a place in Rockford.  Quality stuff, made in China.  (Ok, Jackie, I won't start on that again.)  I know it was 2008 because I marked the boxes for date and store purchased.
     Since our porch is bigger than our hanging area at the old house, we bought two strands of garland from the same place in 2012, our first year in the new house.
     Got them home and discovered....wait for it.....they can't be plugged in end to end!  There is only a plug on one end.
     How in hell do you string garland if it can only be plugged in on one end?  You can't connect the ends and still have a plug!!
     So, that garland went on the end on both sides of the porch and our old garland went in the middle....I know that doesn't make sense.  It's a visual thing.
     Then half a string of garland burned out, so we wrapped white lights around it.
      Checking the garland lights......another string has gone half dark.
     Now, I know I can wrap new lights around it.  But I can also buy new garland that matches and fits end to end.  Just so happens there is a sale on that at a Rockford store this weekend.
     (Digression.  I hate shopping in Rockford because they are blocking our Chicago stations.  We should boycott all the merchants up there and just leave postcards in their stores saying No Rochelle Customers As Long As Chicago Stations are Blacked Out.  It will bring them to their knees.)
     And that's just the beginning.
     There was some discussion about decorating the 16 small bushes we have.  But I put a nix to that for this year....the little bushes are too, well, little!
     I do have some C-9 strands.  Those are the big multi colored lights.  I used them on the spruce tree at the old house.  No spruce tree, and if we get one, we won't need 19 strands of lights.  But we did at the old house.
     So, I decided to remove the lights from the garland so they can be recycled.  Did you know the lights are held on by little round clips that take about 40 minutes to completely remove?  I did not know that either.
    I saw a plastic twisty type tie, so I got my box cutter from upstairs.  But that would not work on the clips. So I had to go upstairs for a pliers.
     But one strand is done.  Now I just have to do the other, but now I know how to dismantle them.
     And the bonus is, I have two strands of good looking garland that don't have lights.  They can be reused or re purposed.
     To think, if I had done this over the summer, I could have had a garage sale and put the C-9 lights and the plain garland out for those who might want it.
     Now I have to save it till next summer, when I finally have that garage sale.
     Or just leave it with the other stuff that I never got around to getting rid of because I just think of a garage sale, but never have one.
    But when I do, there will be garland enough for anyone.   And I don't mean Judy!

Put me in coach, I'm ready to play

Sports fans sometimes do weird stuff

    I went to the NIU-Toledo game tonight.  Boy, was it cold!  The wind was howling out of the north.  There were snow flurries at times....well, I saw a couple of flakes.  (No, I am not referring to the people I was with.)  Long underwear helped, but it was still darn cold.
     NIU won the game 27-24.
     As I was watching, I thought of the strange things fans do to support their teams.
The face paint:  Watching NFL games, the camera always focuses in on someone who has the team's colors on their face or body.  Maybe one side of their face is green and the other yellow if they are Packer fans.  Or blue and orange if you are an Illini fan or a fan of the people in Chicago who used to play football.  Now, I understand kids doing it....but when I see older guys in their 50s and 60s, I kind of wonder about them and what motivates them.
     High fives:  When NIU scored a touchdown in the fourth quarter, people in the rows ahead of us stood up and started high fiving people around them.  That made no sense.  They were sitting in the stands trying to keep warm and had nothing to do with the touchdown, but they acted as if they ran or called the play.
     Cheering:  People should cheer when they go to a game.  No matter the sport, you need to yell a little.  Things like, "Go Team" or "Dee fence" or "You suck."  To be honest, sometimes I just want to yell out random things, like "marmalade" or "graham cracker" or "corned beef on rye."
     Oops:  There was a player on the Toledo team with the last name of Pringle and I turned it into an obscene joke.
     Costumes:  I see them all the time in pro games.  The Viking fan who dresses like a Viking.  The people who show up in bear costumes.  They seem more common in football games, but the Marlin Man and Green Hat Guy are also semi famous in the baseball world.  How do you drive a car dressed like a Viking?  Do you wear your horns to the stadium, or put them on there?  How do you go to the can in a bear costume? And do you ride a bus in a bear costume?
     Going shirtless:  I can understand in the summer, sitting in the bleachers at a ball game.  But come December, and you will see guys without shirts at the football game.  Sometimes they will have the teams' name painted on their chests, one letter at a time.  It's ok in Tampa, or in a domed stadium, but you have to be seriously alcoholed up to do it at a Bears game when it is 12 degrees outside.   And if someone goes to the bathroom and the camera catches your group, you could be the bars, or ears, or bers or even bares if you get out of order.  Even saber.  Or rasbe, which isn't a word but makes as much sense as risking frostbite.  Root for a team with a big name, and you need to bring a lot of people!  Eight for Seahawks, and more people than in some towns for the Buccaneers.
     Anyway, it was a good time.  Saw a great game, had some great food with some great people.
     Now if I could only wash the red off my chest.

I'm sorry, so sorry; please accept my apology

A very wise person once told me, "Stop apologizing"

     I'm sorry, but I can't!
     I have done too many things wrong...and I have to apologize.
     To my neighbors:  All that paper blowing around last Thursday on recycling day?  Mine!!  My tub blew over.  I raced (OK, as much as a 66 year old overweight guy can race) down the street and picked up as much as I could, but I know some landed in Creston.  Maybe Dan and Linda found it!
     To Packer fans:  All those years I couldn't wait to rub it in when the Bears beat the Pack.  I am sorry.  Last night, no one called or texted or messaged me.  Not Sherri, not Warren, not Bob, not Wendy .... they let me dwell in a dejected, despairing quiet created by a team I once liked.  I can't Bear to watch them anymore.  (The team, not the friends.)
     To my neighbors:  The screaming was not directed at you.  My emotions got a little raw on the third first quarter touchdown.
     To my wife:  Just because.
     To my children:  I really am trying to clean up the stuff in the basement....but even if I live to 90, I can't get rid of it.
     To my neighbors:  Bingo, the trifecta!!  I sprayed my natural deer repellent on plants tonight.  I think it is made up of wolf piss and hot pepper sauce.  It smells terrible.  It's called Not Tonight Deer, and I bought it several years ago.  I have not used it in several years.  It comes in a powder that has to mix with water.
     After I mixed it, the sprayer clogged and I had to empty it.  I spilled in my garage, which now smells like a wolf or coyote or whatever relieved himself several times.
     I also managed to spray myself, and I hope that is not the reason my arms, legs and chest are itching like crazy right now.
     I don't remember if it is wolf urine or coyote urine, but I wonder how they collect it.  Talk about a stinky job!
     To all my friends I invited over for wine on the patio in 2013 and again in 2014:  The patio is not done.  I will invite you again in 2015.  To say we are quite upset would be as off the mark as saying the Bears put up a fight Sunday night.  Sad, that all my friends would fit on the patio, isnt it?
     I think that does it.
     I'm sorry if I missed anyone.

Woke up, fell out of bed, dragged a comb across my head

I learned something interesting today about music

    St. Pepper came out in 1967.  By then I had turned from a tepid listener to an avid listener.  Sgt. Pepper was a great album, and even today I still love listening to it.  I think it is the best Beatles album, but I also like the White Album....and Revolver....and Rubber Soul....and you get the picture.
     Jackie has Sirius XM in her car.  I was driving to DeKalb or church and had Little Steven's Underground Garage on the radio.
     I can't describe that station.  I love the music because there is a variety of groups and ages and songs.... I heard stuff from The Muffs, Sex Pistols, and Velvet Underground in a 15 minute time period.
     Understand, I haven't heard of many of the groups that get air time, and I am not sure but I think that was the first Velvet Underground song I ever heard.
     Anyway, the station has a heavy British influence.
     This morning show had a theme....1967.  The Rolling Stones were hot, the Beatles were topping the charts.
     The DJ said, the number one selling group in 1967 was.......The Monkees!!
     I was floored.  I just never thought that, always figured the Lennon and Jagger dominated the airwaves but it was Mickey Dolenz, Davy Jones, Mike Nesmith and Peter Tork that sold the most music.
     I would race home to watch their TV show.  It was funny, irreverent and filled with great music.
     I think it was the first music video, except it ran for 30 minutes and had commercials.
     The DJ then played a Monkee song that never went any where in the US but was #2 on the British pop charts for months...Randy Scouse Git.
     I had never heard that one either.  Go figure.
     I always think of that time period as one of amazing music, and one that passed too quickly.  I wasn't into disco, and I sort of lost track of radio after the mid 70s, except for a brief  resurgence when heavy metal became big.
     Notice I said Jackie had Sirius.  I had a free trial membership, then got six months for $25 but I decided to forgo extending my contract at about $92 a year.  Penny wise, pound foolish.
     I miss Underground Garage, and the Buffet channel, and Sixties on Six, and Fifties on Five.
     If they ever went to a Beatles channel, I would sign up in a heartbeat.
     And I miss that music from 1967....good stuff.

I hear those sleigh bells jingling....

I am almost ready for winter

     The wood is in and cut and stacked.  All the holes in the fences have been fixed so the animals won't wander off.  I tied a rope from the house to the barn so I can still get out there to do the milking during the blizzards that whip across the plains.
     Oh.....wait a minute!  That was Little House on the Prairie!!
     I have a gas fireplace.  No logs.  No wood.  Not as much fun as a wood burning stove.  The stove had multi purposes.  You could cook on it, boil water, use it for heat when the power was out, dry wet mittens and gloves on it, warm up your buns, and get plenty of exercise when splitting wood, chopping wood, stacking wood.  I miss it, a little.
     I like being able to flip a switch and have the glow of a fire.  And when we want to go out suddenly, all we have  to do is turn it off.  It is a convenience.  and it produces heat.
     The family room stays warm, but because it hits the thermostat, the rest of the house stays cool.  Julia hates it because she freezes when she gets home.
     Last year she took a picture of the thermometer....it was something like 58 degrees in her room.  Perhaps a little too chilly.
     I did haul in a bunch of lawn stuff...my chainsaw carved mushroom, some ceramic noisemakers, cushions, pads, chairs, the chaise.  Actually, all our patio stuff looks brand new....like it has never been used.
     Come to think of it, it hasn't been used.  Still no patio.  More frustrated daily.
     As a wise man once said.....never pay in advance.
     I have not heard a forecast today.  Maybe it's changed.  Maybe we won't get a couple of inches of snow next week.
     But we will someday.
     And when it happens, I won't be ready at all.

jambalya and a crawfish pie and a file gumbo......

I took a walk on the wild side tonight

     Don't ask me my....but we bought new curtains for the blue bedroom.
     We bought new curtains because someone didn't like the bedspread.  So someone bought a bedspread for the bed that is only used for three weeks a year.  Once we got the new bedspread, and bed skirt, someone decided the curtains don't match the new bedspread.
     That's why I had orzolaya for supper tonight.
     It's a Cajun type dish, similar to jambalaya except it uses orzo pasta.
     I was standing (I really want to say on the corner in Winslow, Arizona, such a fine sight to see....but I won't) in the Country Curtains shop in Naperville.  A nice lady was looking for a package that said, "Terry the husband is picking this up."  Literally, that is what was written on the package.
     Of course, she called me Jerry.  I did point out it was a T.  We all laughed.
    Right across the street is a restaurant called Heaven on Seven.  I don't know why that is the name, there must be a story behind it.
     I asked if they minded if I parked in their lot while I went across the street to check out the menu.
     One lady said to try the orzolaya, which she described as "wonderful."
     Most of you know I am directionally challenged.  So the fact I was even in the store was amazing to me.
     Coming back from the zoo, I got off at Naperville Road.  When I crossed 56 I realized I was going north, not south.  So I turned around and went the other direction.
     I ended up on Ogden Avenue and saw Washington Street, which I remembered ran into downtown Naperville.  I turned, and within a couple of minutes was in the Country Curtains store.
Incidentally, Country Curtains costs a little more than going to a large box type store.  But all the curtains are made in the USA, and they are good quality.  I highly recommend them.
     Anyway....I went into Heaven on Seven and placed my order, then sat at the bar and waited.
     There must have been 1,000 bottles of hot sauce on the wall.  A veritable treasure trove of all things hot and spicy.  And I am not talking about the server...or am I?
     My order came and I got back in the car.  As I headed north, I was almost overcome by the aroma seeping out of the container.
     I eventually got back on 88 and home.
     I nuked the gumbo and the orzolaya and...... it was as good as the lady said, maybe even better.
     Spicy, but not overly hot.  Great aroma, sausage with a bite, tender shrimp.
     I'm looking around and thinking.....we  need more curtains!
     I can't wait to go back and try another dish.
    Who's with me??

anticipation is making me wait a minute!!

I get disappointed easily

     I set myself up for it, I really do.
     I really think the Cubs will win every game I watch or go to....and then they don't.
     I really think the Bears have a chance to beat the Packers......although it is a chance right below slim and above none.
     Jackie has pointed out, multiple times, that I am never content.
     When the Dickow clan went to Tuscany and peed on walls and on grape vines, the powers that be were watching.  (Clan that peed on walls and in a vineyard would have been me.  Incidentally, no one knew that's what I was doing because I took pictures, holding the camera in my left hand while freeing my right hand for other duties.)
     I bought two bottles of brunello wine in Montalcino.  Brunello is an all star among wines, a prime rib among meats, the creme dela creme of wine.
     OK, maybe I over did it.
     Point is, I bought two bottles for about (Jackie, skip this paragraph) around 100 USD.  I got a really neat wooden box to put them in, that was free.
     Now, I am not about to drink an expensive (for me) bottle of wine by myself.
     And folks, I generally spend less than $20 on a bottle.  One time I did buy some Mogan David 20/20, aka Mad Dog, and it was less than $5.  Chicago John and I drank it when we lived on Southview Drive.  It is potent stuff.  By the time we were done, someone could not find the floor to put down their glass.  It was entertaining.
     The next morning, I swear I had a cat in my mouth.  My tongue was fuzzy....I think I had to shave it at some point.   And my tongue was huge.  My breath smelled like an unventilated outhouse and I don't think I could focus both eyes until well in the afternoon.
     So I had great anticipation for my first bottle of brunello from Montalcino.
     I invited Dan and Linda over to talk about our most favorite country on Earth to visit, (hint:  it's France) and our recent vacations.
     I put out some cheese, sausage, crackers and opened a bottle of brunello di Montalcino.
     I got a decanter and poured the wine into a decanter, approximately 40 minutes before serving so it could breath and adjust to room temperature.
     I got out the red wine glasses, the ones with the really big bottoms that everyone in the fancy parties in the movies swirl to get the wine to breath even more.
     I poured and inhaled the soils and sun of Tuscany, sensing the care and tenderness invested in producing this product.
     And OK, I did imagine Lucy stomping grapes while Rickie was off meeting with a film director, but who doesn't think that when they drink Italian wine.
    We toasted, saluted, chinged,  and sipped.
     Eh.
     Not wow, not great, not super, but ..... eh.
     It tasted a little off.
     Dan and Linda said it was good, but it took me three glasses to decide it was.....eh.
     Now for the dilemma.  Do I wait for another special occasion to open the second bottle and hope it meets my dreams and expectations?  It's not a wine I want to drink by myself, if it is what it's supposed to be anyway.
     Maybe Julia has an answer....I think she bought a bottle or two also.
    But that's another story.

doctor, doctor, gimme the news.....

I think I need to change my lifestyle

     Let me clarify that.  A certain person who  has a medical degree thinks I need to change my lifestyle.
     The good news about my tri-annual trip to the doctor was that I lost 8 pounds in the past year.
     Now I don't know how that happened.  I do know that half a pack of double stuffed Oreos seems to have vanished in the past three days and Jackie only had two.  And she did not have any of the mind filled ones.  Both were briefly left over from camp out.
     What concerns me is the blood pressure.  It was up a little.  I have to take a daily reading in the morning and change my dietary habits.
     I guess I should not put salt on everything I eat.  It is almost second nature.  Get a burger, salt it.  Piece of steak, salt it.  Potatoes, salt them.  French fries, heavily salt them.  And have you had a sea salt caramel mocha yet?  Or a salted caramel chocolate bar?  Evidently I have had too many of all of the above.
     And speaking of potatoes, french fries and pasta in general, I seem to have creeping cholesterol number that I have to do a better job of regulating.  This said when Egg Nog season is upon us.
     It's not unusual for me to go through several cartons of Egg Nog over the holidays....OK, during some weeks of the holidays.  And I capitalize Egg Nog because it deserves a place of respect in life due to its creamy texture, lush aroma and delightful taste.
     And no, diabetes does not run in my family and I can't explain why my sugar count is up.  Chocolate?  Cookies?  Flavored coffees?  All of the above??
     I did mention that somehow I missed a couple of weeks of my BP meds when I was in Europe.  I prepackage all the meds, then fill my pill container.  At the end of the three weeks, I had a two week supply of a BP medication left.  I guess I missed the container in my pile of legal drugs.
     So it's simple.
     If I want to make it to 80, or 70, or 67.....I better change the way I do things.
     I actually kept a straight face when I wrote that.
     If you are under the age of 60 and reading this, please don't do what I do.
     Instead, take care of yourself.  Exercise.  Eat better.  Eat less.  Cut down on the salt.  Cut down on the sugar.  Stop eating junk food, cut down on chips.  Eat smarter.
     Now, if you'll excuse me, I hear an Oreo calling.

it's a party, and I'll cry if I want to....

I got politically active at NIU

     As a high school kid, I wasn't that concerned about what happened around me.  I could not vote, it was a Democratic town, my parents were not active in politics....it just never interested me.
     Even the election of John Kennedy did not spur me to political involvement.  By the way, my dad was convinced Kennedy would be a puppet of the Pope!  He believed that if a Catholic was elected president, he would take orders from the Pope.....glad to know we have advanced since then.
     I owe my political interest to Jim Czerwinski.
     I was living off campus.  Jim decided to run for president of the first student government group at NIU.
     A bunch of us formed the Kishwaukee Beach Party, or the KBP as we used in posters.
     We printed posters with a hand and one finger upraised that said, it just takes one vote, or something like that.  Some people were offended that we used the middle finger.
     We had an aggressive campaign strategy.  Say nothing, do a lot.
     At an open meeting with all the candidates for president present, when the first question was asked, Jim said "I am not putting up with that crap," and stormed off the stage.
     We announced rallies, then didn't go.
     We scheduled interviews, and never showed.
     The results were predictable.....lost in a landslide.
     Which was the plan.
     If I remember, there was another election for representatives and Jim easily won.  I think people remembered his name, which seemed to be the whole purpose of the farce run in the first election.
Either that, or the whole event was a hallucination.  We consumed alcohol during our planning sessions...and me, not being of age and not used to drink, sometimes lost track of the conversation.
     That was the same house where Eli lived.  He was into blues and soul music and introduced me to a world of music I had never known.
     There was another guy, I think his name was Will.  He was a philosophy major.  His dream job was being a bridge operator because you didn't work a lot and had time to think.
     I lost track of them all.  A rumor was Jim got a job offer from Sears, but would have had to shave his moustache.  Another rumor had Will going to prison for draft evasion, willfully turning himself in to authorities.
     Election night always reminds me of the KBP..... and it does bring a smile to my face.

Brother, can you spare a dime?

I had jury duty today

     I arrived at the courthouse at 8:45.  I had to put my cell phone back in my car, because cell phones are not allowed in the courthouse.  I was cursing this little inconvenience, wondering why I wasn't told ahead of time about this....but then I read the entire summons, including the last line that said:  No cell phones or electronic devices are allowed in the courtroom.  Please leave these items in your car.
     Oops.
     This was a civil case, which was expected to last two days.  I was one of 24 prospective jurors, but for some reason I was dismissed.  Could be because I knew the judge, but I'm not positive.
     But that's not my main point.
     I stopped at Kings School to deliver one more Rotary dictionary.
     But that's not my main point.
     I drove to Rockford to visit my my brother.
     But that is not my main point.
    We went to lunch.  Had a nice time.  Told him I needed to get some turkey stock for a recipe Jackie is making.  He suggested Vali Foods.
     But that is not my main point.
     Got the stock, some grapes, some cheese and was walking to my car when  a young man approached me.
     "Excuse me sir, can you help me?" he asked.
     "I don't know," I said.
     "Well, I'm from Marengo and me and my girl friend had an OB-GYN appointment and I ran out of gas.  We're stranded."
     At this point a security officer from the shopping center came up and told the kid he can't solicit and to move on or he would have to call the police.
     The kid said, "OK, but this man was going to help me."
     The security guard looked at me and said, "It's up to you, but he has to leave."
     So I gave the kid $3.
     I got in my car and drove out of the lot, watching him.  He crossed State Street, crossed Mulford, went into the parking lot in front of Kohl's and was just walking between the cars, looking in them but not opening them.  He also stopped a couple of other people, presumably asking for money.
I never saw a girl friend, never saw a car.  Never saw what happened to him.
     I am a sucker.
     That's my point.
     In Chicago once a young woman stopped and asked me for $10 for cab fare to a shelter because her husband was beating her.  I gave her $7, or something like that, which was all I had to spare.
"I told you I needed $10," she said.  She took the money, then crossed into a McDonald's and got into a beat up car and drove away.
     I am a sucker.
     I believe people when they tell me things like that.  I give them money to help them, and they have lied to me. And I still do it!
     Looking at the car the woman drove away in in Chicago, my $7 wasn't going to mean squat in her life.  The car had a bumper barely hanging on, mismatched doors, a duck taped back end....
     And this kid today, so desperate for money that he was asking strangers all over the place, that $3 wasn't going to do much for him.
     Maybe they are druggies.  Or alcoholics.  Or homeless.
     Or maybe she did have an abusive husband.  And he did have a pregnant girlfriend sitting afraid and alone in a car without gas.
     So I bought it, because...... I am a sucker.

Baby, it's cold outside

I now understand Frozen

     It was cold Saturday night.
     What, you didn't notice because you were in a house with heating and a soft bed?
     And I, being the fearless I-still-think-I -am-30 guy was sleeping out in a tent.
     I tried to dress for it.  Had on long underwear.  After we got to the park, we took a hike and I worked up a sweat.  But back at the camp site, things cooled rather quickly.  So I put on a sweatshirt.      Then I put on my second sweatshirt.  As the evening progressed, I put on my coat.  And my hat.  And my gloves.
     I didn't want to put my winter coat on, because it is down filled and a pain to wash.  Getting it all filled with a smoke smell was a last resort.
     We cooked supper, burgers and Italian sausage and chips, and ate some Oreos....double stuffed, mint, and peanut butter...had some hot chocolate ( I added a stream of buttershots, a schnapps type liquor) and before I knew it, it was almost 11.
     The fire had burned down (or burned up?  Both seem to mean the same thing:  The house burned down.  The house burned up)  to red embers, and everyone snuggled into their sleeping bags.
I had my fluffy Binky which zips up, and got into that, then into the sleeping bag.
     But I could not get comfortable.  Can't lay on the right arm, laying on the left arm was uncomfortable.
     I don't remember sleeping, but I did.
    And yes, I did have to get up at about 3....or 4.....and step outside.  The moon was gone at that point, and the sky was full of stars.....absolutely full.  It's hard to remember what the sky looks like, we have so much light pollution.  It was incredible.  Emphasis on that.
    And I did not do my crazy giggle...although my teeth were chattering.
    Problem was, from that point on, I was cold.  Very cold.  My feet, my head, my legs.  And to top it off, I had to stay in the cold an extra hour due to the time change.
     Yes, we laughed when John brought out an old bedroom lamp.  But since we were at a site with electricity (tent sites are closed for winter) we plugged that baby in along with a CD player. (The thought of a plug in heater ran through out minds...maybe next year the tent will be warmer.)
    Yes, I was late getting to the Rafters, but we all arrived within 5 or 10 minutes.
    All in all, it was a good time.
    Here are some pictures.

Why a lamp?  Notice the power box in the background

Somebody needs to rake

The ravine looks like it has man made walls

Let there be light by which to to cook and pour

All you really need is a good fire, and good friends.