It All Fits in There?

 

After weeks of business travel, I am finally home to rest and recover.  Well, except that Spring Break at my son’s college coincided with my arrival back home.  I arrived home around 11:30 p.m., unpacked all my things, and thought I’d kick up my feet as I waited for my son to get home from his drive back from campus.  He is spending his Spring Break flying out to Colorado to visit friends who live there, and since his college campus is three hours from the middle of nowhere um, rather isolated with regard to sizable airports, he booked his flight from a much larger Airport near our home.  Yes, swing by the home to drop off his car and lure me into bringing him to airport at 0 Dark Hundred, official military time for long before the crack of dawn.  Son arrived around 1 a.m.  I was happy to see him – almost as happy as I was to turn in for the night.

 

I’ve forgotten how little sleep college kids actually need.  He brought home a car full of laundry, which he then proceeded to do in the early hours so he would have a fresh cache of clothes.  At the conclusion of the laundering, washer and dryer buzzers continually disrupting my sleep, Son awakens me at 4 a.m. to inform me his carry-on is torn, and might I have a have a carry-on he could use.  What luck!  I had no loaded weapons near my nightstand… er… I mean, I just unpacked my carry-on case a few hours ago.  I walked into his room and noticed the enormous pile of clothes, all winter weight and bulky, since he is heading to the mountains, sitting atop the bed waiting to be shoehorned into my carry-on.  I came to the conclusion that my carry-on must have been a really bad person in a former life to be subjected to this kind of punishment.  I was intrigued to see how he could possibly fit all he intended to take into that little carry-on.

 

While the following video clip is not my son, it went something like this:

 

 

Half an hour later, in the wee hours of early morn, we arrived at the airport.  He thanked me for the ride, I wished him a safe journey and a fun-filled week, and he asked me for money – again.  All is well in my world.

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It’s Mardi Gras – Is Your Mojo Working?

 

It’s Mardi Gras once again. Fat Tuesday, the official finale in festive and inebriated manner of the Carnival season – one last day of reckless, wanton behavior before everyone gets all spiritual on Ash Wednesday, the official start of lenten abstinence. Yes, whoop it up one last time, and whoop it up good!

 

 

As a public service announcement, since so many of you may be imbibing in excess, I thought I’d pass along some helpful information dealing with the morning after.  See, you may not remember much the following day, after a long night of whoop ass drinking and carousing er… festivities. When you do finally awaken from that drunken stupor and, if you believe you’ve gone to church to get your ashes, just make sure the markings look something like this:

And not like this:

Enjoy the festivities!

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Best. Funeral. Ever.

 

I bumped into an old friend the other day, a co-worker from an organization I used to work with a number of years ago.  The obvious pleasantries about work and family were exchanged as we caught up on each others lives. It was mostly small talk not worth writing about here, but we did reminisce a little about her mother’s passing almost 15 years ago now.  Oh how we laughed about her mother and her funeral.  That’s right, we laughed, and it was a good laugh.  Let me tell you about it.

“Chick” was Nancy’s mother.  She was not a particularly religious woman.  In fact, she would be considered a non-practicing Catholic; the kind that occasionally sets foot in Church, maybe on Christmas or Easter.  Nonetheless, Chick was one grand old lady.  She had a terrific sense of humor and her laugh was simply infectious.  It was impossible to be around her and not laugh along with her.  She could lampoon with the best of them.

Her last few years were difficult ones with regard to her health.  She spent a lot of time in the hospital and in extended nursing home care after several surgeries.  Despite obvious pain, nothing dampened that wild spirit or that sense of humor.  She was genuinely happy to see her family and friends, and was always quick to disarm everyone from feeling any sort of pity, making them laugh instead.  Even the nursing staff enjoyed being around her. She was fun personified.

When she passed, we were all saddened.  I remember Nancy’s daughter telling me not to despair however; Chick would not want anyone being sad about her parting this life.  She gave me a wink and a big smile and said to make sure we went to the funeral. I didn’t think much of it at the time, other than she seemed almost gleeful about the event.

So there we sat, in the chapel of the funeral home.  One of Chick’s last wishes was to have the service performed by a priest who also had a spot on the local radio show that Chick always listened to.  The two had become good friends in her final days.  He honored that wish and was present for the service.  Midway through the service, at 9:30 am, right in the middle of the psalm response it happened…

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!”  A rooster crow sounded throughout the chapel.  The reading stopped and everyone looked around, confused and bewildered.  “Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!” again.  It was coming from the casket!  Then a voice:  “It is 9:30…  Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!”  The crowing and time announcement was coming from the casket and it continued for a full minute.  At first everyone tried to suppress the smiles, but one by one, people began to chuckle, and once it began, it just grew until everyone erupted and roared with laughter.  We all laughed, and laughed heartily until we shed a few tears.  You see, Chick’s other last wish was to be buried with her blind husband’s talking-and-crowing-wristwatch, with the alarm set to go off in the middle of the funeral service. I guess she just couldn’t resist the opportunity to make everyone laugh one last time in her presence.

As I sit here and think about Chick, it occurs to me that, although she is long gone, she still is able to make me smile and laugh.  Now that’s a way to make a memorable exit.

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Of Spurious Spam and Non Sequiturs – Part I

 

I almost never look at my site stats, for I am convinced they are evil.  And yet this morning I gave in to the temptation and noticed all kinds of information about how many visits were made to my blog, how many hits per day, what kinds of clicks are done, and all other kinds of meaningless information that will allow me to draw all sorts of odd conclusions as to whether or not mine is a successful blog in the eyes of WordPress.  It was then that I noticed the Comments summary; not the normal comments I am aware of and have responded to all along, but the ones that some robotic fellow named Akismet had sequestered away in clandestine quarters labeled SPAM…

Since I need to update my blog anyway as my Halloween post is now stale and out of date, I thought I would have a little fun copying a few of those interesting comments and perhaps respond to them here.  I wouldn’t want the Spammers thinking I’m a rude person, ignoring them.  What a fun little exercise!

“{Nonameattached}  (at) … (dot) … (com)” commenting on “Weekly Photo Challenge” writes:

{Hello|Hi} just thought i would tell you something.. This is twice now i’ve landed on your blog in the last {2|3} {days|weeks} {looking|searching|hunting} for {completely|totally} unrelated things. Spooky or what?…

Well then…  {Hello|Hi} to {you|it} this {morning|afternoon|evening}. I too just thought I would tell you something.  This is {several|many} times I’ve read this comment in the last {2|3} {minutes|hours} {looking|searching|hunting} for {something|anything} remotely related to {a point|evidence of brain activity} .

Spooky indeed…

“xrumerguy” commenting on “Song Lyrics as Masterpieces” writes:

Wonderful beat ! I wish to apprentice while you amend your web site, how could i subscribe for a blog site? The account helped me a acceptable deal. I have been tiny bit acquainted of this your broadcast provided vivid transparent idea

How very fortunate of me!  I didn’t realize I would be amending my web site, let alone have a need for an apprentice.  I’ll get back to you as soon as I figure out what a vivid transparent idea is…

“Neillonghirst” commenting on “Weekly Photo Challenge” writes:

i hope you dont mind me posting this for my first post , i found up2randomthoughts.wordpress.com while searching for materials and hope its the right site to ask this question, i was wondering if any one on here has any good information on metal sheds, i was thinking of building from scratch but i cant find any info or construction drawings on one,it needs to be around 14 meters x 22 meters with a large door at the front,
there was a guy who posted here a few weeks back who said he knew of a computer softwear program to design them if he sees this would you please pm me now so i can get back to you or if any one can help me please reply as i have tried googling it but seem to get loads of rubbish, i could also do with some help with the structure parts i have been recomended to use these… (link omitted intentionally – see response below)

Yes Neil, I always envisioned metal sheds when I first thought about writing this blog.  Especially when photographing Sunsets.  Oh and your link, well it leads back to your own website of shed products you sell.  Are you telling me your friend suggests you use your own products when building a shed?  Radical Idea!  Let me know how it turns out.

“AntivesJe” commenting on “Song Lyrics as Masterpieces” writes:

Рекомендую весьма новый сайт:

Не надо составлять подробную автобиографию (где и когда родился, где и когда женился и прочее).

Dear AntivesJe,

Все ваши базы принадлежат нам. Бог, я люблю эти интернет переводчиков …

“Ernesto” commenting on “Be Back Soon” writes:

great points altogether, you simply received a brand new reader. What would you recommend about your post that you simply made? Any certain?

Ernesto, I think perhaps the point was that I would be back soon.  Here’s hoping you won’t be back soon.  I’m certain…

“xxxporntube” commenting on “Us and Them” writes:

Hi There! I’ve gone ahead and bookmarked http://up2randomthoughts.wordpress.com/2011/10/22/us-and-them on Twitter so my friends can see it too. I simply used Us and Them Random Thoughts as the entry in my bookmark, as I figured if it is good enough for you to title your blog post that, then you probably would like to see it bookmarked the same way.

Great Caesar’s Ghost!  How in the hell did this happen?  Tweeting and bookmarking my posts to followers of a porn website?  I’m pretty sure they might have very different expectations of a link titled “Us and Them.”  Sheesh!!!

 

I never imagined spam could be so delicious and fun…

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Song Lyrics as Masterpieces – Part 1

 

I’ve been rather scattered these past few weeks, busy with work, coaching, and a few birthday celebrations that I haven’t had much time to write here on this blog.  What shall I write about?  Whenever I’m lacking inspiration for a topic, I will often look to song lyrics to see if there is anything there worth thinking and writing about.  Yes, sometimes a good song lyric can evoke a strong emotion and mood, so why not dust off the old vinyl collection and put it on the turntable for a listen?  Surely the lyrics will give me food for thought.

 

 

Er… um… oh my!  This might be a bit more difficult than I originally thought.  Anyone?

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Some Things Never Change

A few weeks back, my son returned home from college after his finals to visit us for a couple of days. It was a short visit.  He was taking extra classes this summer semester and found a summer job nearby campus, so he needed to get back.  Well, I’m pretty sure he came to visit anyway.  There were miscellaneous sightings from my wife and me, along with a few neighbors.  Further proof? There were baskets of clothes sitting by the washer in need of serious laundering, a whole bunch of food was missing from the refrigerator, and all my beer was gone.  Circumstantial evidence perhaps, but still a dead giveaway my son was home.  I know, I know, I’m kidding and exaggerating.  I really did see and interact with him in the flesh.  He needed money – again.

One night, my son wanders into the house with about a dozen of his friends and they were all gushing about how cool something or another was as they were passing around the ear buds to his iPod.  I asked him what was so interesting.  His response was, “We’re listening to a live Podcast of a band we all like.  This technology is so cool.  Can you believe it?  It’s streaming live right now from a club downtown.”

I started to think about this, and for some reason began blinking.  I’m not sure if it was just my mind processing what he just said, or if I was developing a nervous tick thinking about the 3 BMW’s I could have owned, all tossed away in the form of a college tuition.

“So… what’s so cool about that?” I asked.

“Dad, it’s LIVE!  It’s happening right now, and we’re listening to it via a stream!   Just imagine all the technology to do that!”

Oh, imagine I did.  I had this gnawing feeling inside me, a sense of Deja Vu about all this technology and its application to everyday life.  And then it hit me.

I tell ya, the iPod ain’t got nothin’ over this baby!  It’s completely portable and powered by a replaceable battery – no charger needed.  And of course it comes complete with an earbud – one.  But hey, you don’t need an ear bud because it can play through a built in speaker, so folks didn’t have to pass around or share that ear bud. Ha! And here’s the best thing – it picks up LIVE streams of AM signal.  Can you imagine that?  I’m talking about live people, music, and events you can listen to  in real time.  In fact, listening to a live Podcast … sorry, I meant Broadcast of the 1965 World Series on that technological wonder landed me a detention in Mrs. McF’s class. She just didn’t appreciate sports or technology it seems. Luckily, I only had to write, “I will not take my transistor radio to class” one hundred times on the blackboard before being sent home.

As I reflect on all this marvelous technology it occurs to me, in many ways, little has changed.  In fact, as I look at the box above, with that “hip” guy and young woman in Go-Go boots holding onto that radio grooving to the music, it bears a strange resemblance to what arguably must be their kids 30 years later:

Devil With The Blue Dress On – probably not on your iPod but always playing on that transistor radio.

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Always a Blogsmaid, Never the Blogger (finally finished for Phil)… (via Charlywalker’s Blog)

It’s not every day that I manage to get honored by being mentioned in a WordPress Blog title. Come to think of it, I’ve never been mentioned in a WordPress Blog. That is, until today! I’m nearly famous now! Since the folks at WordPress are probably not inclined to Freshly Press a post about not being Freshly Pressed, I thought I’d give Charlywalker’s blog the next best thing – I’m going to re-blog it here! I’m sure I get almost as much… er… well… maybe not quite as much… um… OK, well I know I don’t get much traffic at all, but it’s the only way I can say thanks.

Charlywalker, I hope the extra three hits pinging back to your blog from this entry doesn’t bring it to a grinding halt.

I was just curious.  What does it take to get Freshly Pressed? I have been known to take my clothes to the cleaners to get that extra crease in the pant leg and a little more starch around the collar.  I walk around in wrinkle free attire unless it’s summer and I’m wearing linen. Who are these folks that judge what will get pressed and what will not get pressed.  I’ve never had any indecision from my dry cleaner about my substance, unless they ne … Read More

via Charlywalker’s Blog

Who Says Opera Can’t Be Fun?

I’m here to dispel a few notions that Opera is not fun. Opera is the mother of all modern day musicals and the grandmother of all music videos. Long before the movie moguls transported this art-form to celluloid film medium, Opera was the only form of musical theater in existence, and was so for several hundred years before movies. The concept of meshing music with visual imagery is not an invention of MTV. So sit back and take a look at the lighter side of an aria, one that isn’t afraid to poke a little bit of fun at itself, giving the audience a little wink and a nod.

The following clip is from the Opera “Les contes d’Hoffmann” composed by Jacques Offenbach and first performed in 1881 in Paris. Our protagonist Hoffman falls in love with Olympia, a mechanical doll. He isn’t initially aware that it is a mechanical doll, and its creator has convinced our Hoffman to wear a pair of rose-colored glasses to help with the illusion.

The aria that follows is Olympia’s debut to the public and to Hoffman who is really impressed and well, let’s say taken. She sings “Les oiseaux dans la charmille” (The birds in the bushes). As a mechanical doll however, Olympia is in need of an occasional “adjustment and winding” when she runs out of power. I’d say the following interpretation is quite er… um… interesting. Enjoy!

I’ve got to hand it to the French – they sure know how to have a bit of naughty fun at the Grand Opera.

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3D Television – Still a Fantasy

I was shopping with my wife the other day at Costco, a warehouse type store with dozens and dozens of TV’s on display. She ventured off to look at some jewelry while I wandered up and down the electronics aisles looking at all the flat panel sets arranged in sizes ranging from very, very large to downright ostentatious. At the end of one aisle, I came across a demonstration display for a monstrous-sized 3D screen, complete with sample glasses mounted on a viewing stand so folks could take turns looking at the images in full three dimensional glory. There was this really cool demo program running, so I thought I’d see what all the fuss was about.

They were showing a sequence of free-style ski jumps and the 3D images were simply awesome! I couldn’t contain my excitement at how cool it was to see the skiers fly out of the TV screen as they launched into their twists and turns right in front of me. Naturally, I wanted to share this excitement with my wife, so I called her over, asking her to check out this really cool 3D TV I found. And naturally, she walked over to where I was standing to see what I was so excited about. Of course precisely when she came within eyeshot of set, the demo program switched over to incredibly attractive athletic women in bikinis playing beach volleyball…

The good news is, I saved a bunch of money and I won’t be at risk for becoming a couch potato. Who needs a stupid 3D set anyway?
…
…
Dammit!

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Greetings!

I don’t want everyone (or at least the four or five folks who actually read my blog) thinking I’m really deep or profound all the time. I am easily amused observing trivial little ironies at some of the most mundane things; unfortunately at the expense of random folks forced to deal with me at those moments. Witness the following, an example of me in shallow, self-absorbed mode.

Those who know me know that I rarely set foot in a card store. I have what I thought was an endless supply of blank card stock – you know, the kind with an innocuous design on the outside and completely blank on the inside. I’ve used these for years to send personal handwritten notes to everyone I know for any and all occasions. Small problem – the endless supply ran out and my son’s birthday is coming up next week, so I thought I’d drop in the local card store at lunch to pick up a birthday card. As soon as I arrive I am greeted by a really perky, friendly store associate. Her name is Meg and she asks me what am I looking for. I tell her I am looking for a birthday card. Simple question, simple answer.

Meg then asks me, “What kind of birthday card are you looking for?”

“Huh? Um… how about one that says Happy Birthday?”

“They all say that. Well, actually some don’t. What I meant is, who is the card for?”

“Oh. My son.”

“Over here. Follow me.”

Criminy! We walk past a gauntlet of hundreds upon hundreds of specialty cards designed to be sent by cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, in-laws, out-laws, current lovers, clandestine lovers, and prison cell-mates. Finally we arrive at the section labeled “Son” – right next to the Son-in-law section and just above the Juvenile Son section. I guess it’s a rather slow day in the card store, because Meg is hanging around, watching me as I look over the cards. Or maybe she’s just worried I’ll run off with a bunch of birthday cards and sell them out of the trunk of my car. I hear the “To my Secretary/Mistress on her Birthday” is a real high demand item.

The very first card I grab says, “To Son on his Birthday.” I can’t help but notice Meg hovering over me while I’m smiling a bit, shaking my head with disbelief at the card.

“Is there something wrong?” she asks.

I can feel the devilish temptation to be snarky coming on. (Don’t do it, you’ll feel bad about it later. Must resist! Must not say something snarky. Must not… … … dammit!) I can’t help myself.

“You know Meg, I’m pretty sure my son knows it’s his birthday, and that’s why we’re sending him a card. He’s in college you see. Yes, smart kid. And I am totally convinced he knows he’s our son. Why, just last week he asked me for money – again. I’d say he’s got the son thing down pat. So I’m not sure we need a card that tells him who he is and why we’re sending it.”

She offers a smile. “Nothing wrong with being crystal clear.”

“I suppose so, but tell me, who is this on the cover of the card?”

“Oh, it’s just a picture of a young man – fishing.”

“But the young man in the picture is not my son. And my real son doesn’t fish. Why would I send my son a card that says, ‘To Son on his Birthday’ with a picture of a strange young man doing something my son doesn’t do?” Actually I’m starting to get confused myself.

She offers, “Well, if you don’t want that card, we’ve got plenty more right here. What are you looking for?”

“How about one that says Happy Birthday?”

Meg is no longer smiling, and I feel a bit guilty about my snarkiness. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a smart-ass. Let me look through these and I’ll try to find one on my own.” I start to go through the assorted cards. Sheesh! What a collection!

• Son, we are so proud of you on your Birthday. (What, no one is proud on the other 364 days?)
• What is a Son? (Are you kidding me?)
• For a Special Son. (I feel sorry for all those regular sons.)

Finally! A card that just says Happy Birthday on the outside. I pick it up and open it to read what is written on the inside.
…
…
Gaaaaa!!!!

“Oh Meg?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have blank cards?”

“On the side wall.”

Thankfully, I found a nice collection of blank card stock – you know, the kind with the innocuous design on the outside and completely blank on the inside. As I approach the register to pay, a very nice, perky store manager asks me if I’d like to buy some Halloween cards.

…
…

“Er… um… People send out cards for Halloween???”

I could see Meg out of the corner of my eye bolting for the back of the store. I guess it must have been time for her work break.

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