call me, please

I am a phone volunteer

     When an organization has a fund raiser, I frequently volunteer to answer the phones.
     This is always an interesting experience, especially for someone with a hearing issue.
     So when Christine called, I asked her how she spelled Christine.
     "I'm not sure... my name is Dorie."
     I have no idea where I got Christine.
     Another person game me their street name.  He repeated it three times, and on the third time he said, "You know, like in Steven King."  "Oh yeah," I answered.
     I have NEVER read a Steven King book and still don't know on what street the guy lived.   I just hope the post office delivers to some number that sounds like what I thought I heard that may or may not have come from a King book.
     My landscape guy called today.  He called at home, not where I was taking donations.  He said the crew was working for a Mr. Danforth, one of my neighbors.
     I said I did not know anyone named Danforth........and I don't. 
     But I do know a neighbor that has a name that sounds very similar, although I did not realize that until I hung up. 
     I think I need a hearing aid.  Or two.
     My problem is, everyone I know who has them complains about the background  noise being amplified so much, they can't hear the person talking to them.  Which makes me wonder about a hearing aid.
     Maybe it's wax build up in my ears.  Or maybe I got a huge bug stuck in one, which is possible.  Not probable, but possible.
    Getting old is not fun. 
    But the alternative isn't either.

spooky....

I have been shocked senseless twice this week

     I know!  How can you tell?
     The phone rang the other day and we have caller ID.  The caller was identified as a friend of ours who died at least six years ago!!  Maybe more!
     I could not pick up the phone because I saw his name on caller ID.  It rang and rang and I just stared.
     Turns out, the number belongs to a business and his name was listed on the original phone number years ago and evidently it has never been changed.
     Then today I got an e mail from a man who died four months ago!  It said, "dickow, you need to read this!"  from ---dead guy's real name. 
     There was a link attached to it.
     Being a person who listens to his daughters and son in law, I did not open the link because that guy was dead!  He could not e-mail me.  I don't think.
     Just strange, the coincidences that happen.
     On a digression, I rode my bike into town for coffee.  14.8 miles round trip.  I really wasn't tired and my legs felt fine.  My seat isn't even sore.
     I had planned to start at 10, but didn't leave until about 12:15 because I WAS BUYING CUBS TICKETS FOR OCT. 10!
     I tried getting four, but could not, so I got three.  Pretty darn good seats.  Pricey too.
    I did not make a playoff game last year and regretted it.
    Now I live my life with no regrets.  Well, regrets, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention....wait a minute, channeling Old Blue Eyes!  Oh my gosh, another voice from the afterlife.
     Just my luck....I channel all these people just before I go to bed.
     I just have to get in my robe, and look for my pipe.......Holy Hefner!  It's happening again!!!
     At least I can dream of bunnies.......

Oh no, not sports again

I feel like talking sports today

     I going to start with football. 
     I am not going to dwell on football players exercising their right of free speech by kneeling during the anthem.  Personally, I am more outraged by the hatred surfacing in this country than by people peacefully protesting racist conditions.
     I am a little concerned that it may no longer be a protest but an "in" thing to do. 
     Enough of my serious side.
     How 'bout those Bears!  What a game they played tonight.  Great defense, amazing offense.  I turned it off at 28-7 because they were dominating tonight.  I just don't understand why they had on the wrong uniforms.
Ok, serious again.  I am in a mood swing mood.  Think about that.  I used to love football.  High school, college, the pros, I loved watching the action.  But I don't so much anymore.  I watched Concussion the other night, with Will Smith.  (How he did not get an Oscar I can't understand.)  I've seen Jimmy Mac.  I've read stories about members of the 85 Super Bowl team who have trouble walking, and thinking, and functioning.
     And I think of the price these guys pay for guys like me to sit on the couch and yell.
     Then I saw the Packer player get hit tonight and I just couldn't take it anymore.  Too many hurt players, too many shattered bones.  Yes, they are grown men and able to make their own decisions about the risks they take in life.  But I don't have to support those risks.
     Here's the swing!
     I am going to buy playoff tickets tomorrow.  Yes, I am.  I am convinced that I will be able to get tickets for a game at Wrigley with Washington.  It is not the conference championship, or the WS, but I can tell future generations I was there when the Cubs did the unthinkable....won it all two years in a row.
     And if anyone runs into Steve Goodman in the great beyond, tell him they still play the blues in Chicago, but the Cubs are no longer the doormat of the National League.
     I think he'd smile knowing that.
     And now, for something different.

How the hell do you make donkey salt?  Or do the donkeys just put on the salt?  Hope I can sleep thinking this one through

feeling pretty happy

I love to say I told you so

     Months ago I said the Cubs would be in the playoffs.  Even when they were doing so lousy at the break, I said they would be there in the end.
     And they are.
     I have been a Cub fan ever since I was 8 or 9 years old.  I idolized Ernie and Ron, Sweet Swinging Billy and I admit I shed a tear when Ken Hubbs was killed in spring training. 
     I watched games in black and white with Jack Brickhouse calling the action, Pat Piper announcing the starting line ups and everybody in the stands making the "whoooooop" noise for foul balls hit up the net behind home plate.
     I fell asleep to Vince Lloyd and Jack Quinlan, the golden voice, doing games on the radio against the Dodgers and Giants.  And who can forget Lou Boudreau, Lloyd Petit, and later Harry and Stony.  Now it's JD and Len, Pat and Ron C.
     I envy Cardinal fans.  Their teams have been winners so often in the past. They have built a winning culture.
     Several years ago I started buying packs of tickets.  With Dan and John, we have watched some terrible baseball.  We sat through games that were poorly played, especially during that 102 loss season.
     We watched the kids.  Rizzo, Starlin, KB, Javy, Addy and all the other young talent developed before our eyes.
     We knew some day they would be good.  Now, they are.
     Even as our record for games attended fell to 2-6 this year, I knew they would turn it around and move on to the playoffs.
     Bring on the Nationals!!!  The Cubs are gonna be history making this year!!
     Now, gotta find my Steve Goodman album.........Go Cubs Go, Go Cubs Go, Hey Chicago what do ya say?  Cubs are gonna win today......

what was that??

I think it's beginning

     Old age.  I think I may be hitting it.
     Sure, I am 69.3333.... years of age, but lately I have been feeling old.
     I can't remember things as well as I used to.
     I put the lettuce in the pantry and the scissors in the freezer.  I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway.
     I picked the Packers and the Steelers in the local football pool. 
     I can't get up before 10 or to bed before 12.  Then I wake up several times in the night, thank you aging prostate.   (I sometimes call it prostrate....another sign?)
     I go into a room and can't remember why I am there.  Sometimes I go into a room and realize I am in the wrong room.
     If it wasn't so frustrating, it would be funny.
     I spent 10 minutes at a store looking at smoke detectors.  I was looking for a carbon monoxide detector and bought one that was not one.  I referred to carbon monoxide as CO2.
     I don't know why Kardashians exist. 
     I know there are movie stars not named Hanks or Connery or Grant or Stewart or Bogart,  but I don't know their names.
     Baseball players could be my grand kids.  Seriously.  Half the starting line up of the Cubs are under 25.   Or is it half is?  If I was born in a different time or place, Kris Bryant could be my grandson....how weird would that be!
     Time for my Metamucil cocktail, followed by some pudding to save my teeth.
     Good night, sleep tight. 

DYI????

I admit, I watch reality tv shows

     Well, some shows, anyway.  I like the shows that fix up a house and sell it for an unbelievable profit.
     Many times the homeowners help out with a project.  But most homeowners are like me:  inept, inefficient, inexcusably clumsy.
     This morning Jackie got up early while I slept until a little after 9.  That is normal, yes.  And I know I have to change that to do more stuff during daylight.  I am working on it.
     Why did she wake up?  The chirping noise of a smoke detector.
     Why didn't I wake up?  One benefit of lousy hearing.  It was at a range that I could not easily pick up.
     But I eventually did, and after ruling out a real cricket in the garage, pantry, bedroom and ceiling. I ventured to the basement and was greeted by a chirp.     Actually, three chirps every minute.
     Which means, she heard it chirp about 120 times.   I don't want to say she was cranky, but......
     Anyway, went down to the basement, changed the battery.  Chirping continued.
     Put in another battery.  Chirping continued.
     Looked at the model number, then went to the computer and Googled the product and number.
     Turns out, a three chip per minute sounding means a malfunctioning unit.     Four chirps is dead battery.  Who knew?
     Following the instruction manual (a phrase I don't think I have ever typed before) I attempted to disconnect the easy connect harness that is wired to the gizmo.
     Every time I tried, my two fingers would lock and I could not grab with my middle finger curled into a ball.  (Some people call it trigger finger.  I just think I used it too much in my life and wore out the muscle that controls it.)
     After several attempts, I gave up and called John.
     He came over, and with some effort, managed to detach the unit from the electrical harness.
     He tried resetting it:   remove the battery, press down on the test button for a few minutes, reinstall.  But nothing worked.
     So I bought a new unit that is similar to the one I had.  I wrote the company and asked if they were the same unit, despite different model numbers.  We'll see.
     I am waiting before I attempt to reinstall it, which should be a relatively easy task.  Waiting, not installing.
     Total time on the project I could not do?  About four hours, or 720 chirps.
     And then I tackled the slow sink in the bathroom.  Let's just say that was 45 minutes I will never get back.
     It works fine unless you run water into it.
     Tomorrow's another day.

oops! me bad

I believe it is a mea culpa day

     I am sorry for spreading fake news.
     In case you missed it, the world did not end yesterday.  No whimper, no bang, no ice, no fire.  Just a normal day.  Ok, it was a little hot, but not so bad as to incinerate us alive.  Just hot enough to make us sweat.
     The guy who predicted the end of the world, using a system involving solar eclipses, earthquakes, the number 33, and the Bible, turned out to be wrong.  Who saw that coming?
     There were several stories done on him, so my question is:  Were the stories fake news?  Or, where they news of fakes?  Big difference.  The man made a statement and it was reported.  So that is real.  But his statement was fake, so the news was fake news, but real.
     Oh my gosh my head is spinning.
     And no, that is not wine.  Just fact.
     I also found out that going to "who is following me" on Facebook and deleting names is another fake news thing.  Snopes says it isn't real.  But I already deleted 12 people, who may have been real or fake.  I hope by deleting them I did them no harm.  I mean, what if Facebook works like a voodoo doll?  By deleting someone they just disappear?  Their own private rapture perhaps?
     I didn't do much today.  Read the paper.  Did the crossword.  Fell asleep in the chair on the porch.
     But in the last hour I seem to have developed some sort of itch...on my legs, arms, hands, fingers......and little bumps, like bites.
     I have done nothing different.  Ate the same foods as yesterday, wore the same types of clothes, sat on the same furniture, played with the same dog.....so why am I going insane from itching?
     Think I'll pop an allergy relief pill and see if that helps.
     The only thing that is different is the Bears.  They won.  Could it be I am allergic to Bears' victories?  I mean, they happen so seldom, maybe.....
     Or maybe not.  Who can tell.
     Good night.  Sleep tight.  Don't be an itch in life.