So, You Want a Baaad Joke?

OK, here it is. Keep in mind, my 14-year old daughter told me this one...

"Dad, you gotta do 'Safe Lunch'".

"Chickie, just what in the blazes is 'Safe Lunch'?"

"Daddy, you have ALWAYS got to use Condiments!"

.....



HoooKay! "Safe Lunch"

Right.

I think it's going to be a loooong teenage years. And that's just for Chickie. Meelie is 11 going on 17....

I've already got gray hair. It's just gonna get worse...

Sigh.

Someday...

... I'll be like my Dad. Old, and cranky, and everything will hurt, and I'll be short-tempered and I'll want to forget the bad stuff, and only remember the good.

Someday I'll remember the doggies in my life, and remember that they all greeted me with wagging tails and unconditional love - and died long before I did, because that's what happens to doggies.

Someday I'll remember my kids when they were young, their marveling at the world around them, at the hue of a flower, the smell of new-mown grass, at the feel of the ocean kissing the skin under a bright shining sun, at the wondrous sight of Venus shining next to Luna just before sunset.

For now, I remember my Dad, holding my hand and showing me these sights, and teaching me about doggies, and tolerating me even when I was fifteen and royal pain in the behind, and I'm glad he let me live - so that I can pass along those lessons to his grandchildren. (Trust me here - I was a real PITA as a fifteen-year-old - I'm surprised he let me live!)

And I'll pass those same lessons along to his great-grandchildren, if I live that long.

I think that I'll take a sip of the Bushmill's here, and reflect. And yes, that's another lesson from the Old Man - sip gently, and reflect.

Domestic Discussions

We've been here in SouthEast Jawja for five years, almost, and in the same house for four and a half. And now, we're thinking about having a place built for us - to our specifications.

Hooo-boyoboy!

Do we really want to do this?

Well, on the one hand, we get to specify exactly what we want, right down to the light-bulbs.

On the other hand, we get to bleat and moan at the construction people until it's what we want, and done right.

On the gripping hand, if it doesn't turn out well, we have only ourselves to blame.

Of course, we could just stay put, and expand/remodel to make what we have better suit what we think we want.

But the idea of getting exactly what we want is.... seductive.

Get thee behind me, temptation!

Fickle Fay The Tropical Storm, Or...

... How my teenage daughter managed to make me forget about the crappy weather we're having here in the beautiful, genteel Souf.

Shall I explain?

Can you say "Thirteen-year-old female"?

Sheesh... I really don't want to go there.

Ostensibly, this is about Chickie's retainer - which is a gizmo that one uses after one's braces are removed from one's teeth - which Chickie has managed to lose, somewhere, somewhen in the last 12 hours.

In reality, this is Chickie being... thirteen years old.

Read "Monumental pain in her parents nether regions".

By the way, we're having all kinds of other fun with Tropical Storm Fay - who has decided to park her moldy self's northern edge right over my house for the next thirty-six hours.

It's going to be a lonnnng weekend, neh?

More on Weather

In the post below, please keep in mind that hurricanes affect weather hundreds of miles from the center of the storm.

Looking at the scale, you will see that we are within 100 miles of the CENTER of where Fay is projected to be - right in the "pink" zone.

Not just a sigh - more like what Achmed the Dead Terrorist said, in that high-pitched voice: "Holy Crap!" (See Achmed HERE... and Achmed is definitely NSFW!)

What Can You Do About Weather?

Not too much - you just get to suffer through it.





I rather suspect that we're going to have a Very Interesting Time over the next few days...

Sigh....

Not A Good Day

When I got back to Georgia after watching my Dad die (Not fun, but I'm glad that I was there), I had a number of things to deal with besides my own personal grief.

Just getting me out to Washington (State, NOT D.C., thank goodness!) was Very Expensive. Not to mention the costs of just being there, what with hotel and food, etc.

Then there was the simple stress.

Simple?

Riiight.

And when I got back, well, I guess that grief doesn't show much on me.

I've been getting some... odd, shall we say, looks and comments.

Listen up, people. Death and stress and grief and sadness manifest themselves in many different ways with different people.

I miss my Dad. I love him, and miss him. And my Mom. And my grandparents.

The me you see every day is not the me that's inside.

I don't beat my breast, and weep and wail.

I just do what Mom and Dad would expect of me.

I get on with it. I hug my girls. I hug my wife. I treasure each day, from beginning to end. I do my best. As Mom and Dad would expect me to do.

So, what don't you see?

You don't see the hole in my heart. You don't see my tears, when I'm alone. You don't see the aching endless void that is the place that my Mom and Dad hold. The ones who always could be counted on for a wise word or three when I needed advice, or when I neede a little propping up when I was unsure of myself. Or a swift kick in the ass when that is needed.

What you do see is OWW getting himself together to meet the day. To cope. To do the best I can.

Because that's what's expected.

Family

Just had a chat with brother Tom.

We strolled down Memory Lane about The Old Man and a few of his friends.

When Dad was dying, his fried Joe would come over to play the piano, and sing a little bit, some of the stuff that Dad grew up with. Joe is also in his 80's, and God Willing, will be around for a few more years.

Dad and Dr. Wylie, between them, kept me out of jail more than once.

I paid, oh Lord, did I pay - in sweat and humiliation - but I learned, Oh, My, did I learn.

In later years, Tom, Mike, Bob, and I would draw on The Old Man's store of knowledge and logic, and request advice - which we mostly followed.

We all have "Dad Stories" - and all of the stories have a point.

We all have "Mom and Dad Stories" - and all of them have a point.

Most of them have pointy, sharp, and "Oh, You Dummy!" type of points.

We miss you...

Back Home Again

Well, I finally made it home on Tuesday, after more than 24 hours of dinking around airports and riding on heavier-than-air contraptions.

Dad's death has weighed on me for a few days now, causing much reflection and thought, but surprisingly little pain.

It is a comfort to know that he died the way he wanted surrounded and attended by family. My sisters Connie and Rosy, who cared for him in his last months, especially Rosy who lived with him. My eldest daughter, who visited frequently. My brothers Bob and Tom. His lady-friend Norma, with whom he had a morning telephone call at 8AM, "Just to make sure we're both still around". And myself, making the trip from South Georgia to Olympia on what I expected to be a "normal" 3-day visit that turned into an "in the nick of time" sort of thing.

This quote, from Gerber Daisee, summed up the way that Dad approached life, from his time as an Infantryman in WW2 to the last days of his life.

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in one pretty and well-preserved piece. Rather, it is to skid across the line broadside, thoroughly worn out and shouting,

"WOW - What a ride!!" "

Dad was always a gentleman. Unless you were a complete clot, he always had a kind word and a place at the table for you. He wasn't perfect, by any means, but he could be remarkably tolerant of the foibles of others - as proof, I offer the fact that he let me live past my 15th birthday.

His acts of kindness and generosity were and are legendary. His curiosity of the world around him remarkable. His command of the English language was a marvel. And when angered, his command of invective (not necessarily swearing) was awe-inspiring (and frightening, if you were on the receiving end!).

Mrs. OWW wrote him a letter, HERE.

So long Dad. I'm missing you more every day....

Status Check From The West Coast

I'm still around, just haven't had much spare time recently.

Due to my father's death on the 23rd of July (about which I'll write at a later time due to raw nerve-ends on my heart-strings), I'm out here in Washington (State, not D.C.) to help take care of the various things that have to be done.

Watch This Space in about two weeks, when all the stuff should be completed, and I should be back home.

In the meantime, look HERE for good advice on "How To Be Taken Seriously As A Blogger". The context is the "BlogHer" convention, but the advice applies to any "serious" blogger.

Of course, I don't care whether I'm taken "seriously" or not - I write this thing to please me and a few other people. Read my masthead up above for the basic rules.

Independence Day

We did our burgers and 'dogs.

We did do beer/wine/soda/water, depending on age and preference.

We did do a quick reading of the Immortal Words. Took a whole ten minutes. Chickie asked the hardest question: "Daddy, what does 'sacred honor' mean?"

I didn't even stutter. "That means you do the right thing, even if it hurts you."

Then came the good part.

Meelie Noh and I went out for fireworks on July 2nd, and she's been frantic with wanting to make things go bang for Two Whole Days. She started counting hours and minutes at 9 this morning.

So, we (being Chickie, Meelie, Mrs. OWW, Hose-B, Mrs. Shopping, and assorted kid-friends set off sparklers, and poppers, and whiz-bangs, and screechers, and fountains, and googly-eyes, and more whiz-bangs.

Did I mention beer/wine/soda/water/lemonade?

We had a SPLENDID time!

Well, Where are They?

Lifted from Kim duToit. I would have filed off the serial numbers, but... Here they are.

Why aren’t all of the Hollywood celebrities holding telethons and asking for help in restoring Iowa and helping the folks affected by the floods? Where are the Dixie Chicks, and Sean Penn in his rescue boat? Why isn’t the media asking the tough questions about why the federal government hasn’t solved the problem? Where are all the FEMA trucks and trailers? Why isn’t the Federal Government relocating Iowa people to free hotels in Chicago? When will Spike Lee say that the Federal Government blew up the levees that failed in Des Moines? Where are all the 24/7 lurid news tales of cannibalism and unnecessary drownings? Why did Iowans evacuate so prematurely; why are they not holed up in deathtrap sports centers? Where are all the pics of White looters stealing high-end tennis shoes and big screen television sets? When will we hear Governor Chet Culver say that he wants to rebuild a “vanilla” Iowa, because that’s the way God wants it? Where are the people declaring that George Bush hates rural White people? Why are the Iowans not complaining more and demanding to be saved? How come in about 2 weeks, you will never hear about the Iowa flooding ever again?

I think these are all fair questions. Not comfortable questions, no, not at all.

But I think that they are fair questions.

The Way Life Is

Life is what happens when you're making plans for your life.

Plan: Spend some time with your Dad.

Life: Be with him while he gets a stent put in for a heart condition. Then, AFTER the stent, find out that he's not doing well.

Plan: Manage Mrs. OWW's diverticulitis so that surgery is not required.

Life: Riiiiight! Probably surgery is going to happen, RSN (Real Soon Now).

Plan: Hillary and Barak beat each other up so bad that McCain wins in November.

Life: Who knows?

Plan: Not run out of beer tonight.

Life: Got neighbors?

Life It's Ownself

I've been debating a change in the way that OWW runs things on this mostly restrained place.

Lately (like for the last two freakin' years) I've been more politically oriented than personally oriented.

Something's not right with that.

Of course, my personal life has been pretty quiet, Thank Gawd!

No divorces, no jail time, no lawsuits, no alarums OR excursions.

Hmmm...

I could comment about the whackos that I work with, except that they're not whackos.

I could raise all kinds of hell about my weird-ass neighbors, but except for Charley, they're nice folks. And even Charley's a good guy, until he and his daughter who's visiting from New Yawk get into the red wine and stay awake until 3 AM playing the music too loud and laughing even louder which pisses off their immediate neighbor, but not me 'cause I'm across the street and two houses down so I don't hear that stuff. I just hear about it later....

Of course, there has been the usual minor dramas of Life It's Ownself...

My thirteen-year-old daughter having a melt-down and tear-flood.

Or the nine-year-old daughter getting cross-eyed mad.

Or the idiot doggies being idiot doggies.

Or, on this fifth day of February going out and voting in the primary election, in my shirtsleeves, because it hit 82 F today, and is currently 68 F at midnight, which absolutely breaks my heart!

An Unsuitable Cop

Sergeant Andrea Eichhorn of the Casselberry, FL police department has been fired. FoxNews Story HERE.

CASSELBERRY, Fla. — Casselberry authorities say a police sergeant has been fired for suing a family after she slipped and fell while trying to rescue a 1-year-old boy from drowning. Casselberry Police Chief John Pavlis fired Sergeant Andrea Eichhorn on Tuesday. Eichhorn has dropped her negligence lawsuit. It claimed there was water on the floor at Joey Cosmillo's home when police arrived. Eichhorn claimed she broke her knee and missed two months of work after she slid on the wet floor. The boy suffered brain damage and can no longer walk, talk or swallow. He lives in a nursing home and eats and breathes through tubes. Eichhorn can appeal her firing. Pavlis said the lawsuit brought public ridicule to the agency and damaged its reputation.

This first came to my attention back in October from The Law Dog, whom I believe to have the definitive rant on this story.

To be fair, reports are that Sgt. Eichhorn actually fractured the knee. Of course, reports also say that she continued to work the scene -- it was only "later that day" that she sought treatment for the injury. The tile-crawling invertebrate hired by Sgt. Eichhorn to represent her in this lawsuit states: "It's a situation where the Cosmillos have caused these problems, brought them on themselves, then tried to play the victim,"

Read his entire essay HERE - and please do try to keep your blood pressure from spraying out of your ears.

I Sound Like What?

So, there's this strange survey out there, about accents. Now, keep in mind that I lived in New York City until I was ten, and then in California until I was fifty-five - and I've never lived within 500 miles of Wisconsin.

I asked Mrs. OWW if I sounded like I was from Wisconsin, and she said that even with the cold I'm fighting, I'm generic Californian, with Good Ol' Boy Jawja overtones that I've picked up in the three years that we've lived in SE Georgia...

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Inland North   You may think you speak "Standard English straight out of the dictionary" but when you step away from the Great Lakes you get asked annoying questions like "Are you from Wisconsin?" or "Are you from Chicago?" Chances are you call carbonated drinks "pop."
The Northeast
Philadelphia
The Midland
The South
Boston
The West
North Central
What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

Things Automobilish

So, I'm on my way into work this AM, and the little red light indicating low coolant comes on. This is my 100K-miles-plus-a-bit Saturn SL2 that I've bragged on in the past, OK?

OK.

Get to work, and there's drippins' under thet-thar SaturnMobile.

"Oh, crap!"

$200 later (including new anti-freeze and a new radiator), Sally the Saturn is ready to go. Until the next time.

So far, the big expenses on Sally have been a temperature sensor ($15), a thermostat ($25), a radiator ($185) and anti-freeze ($25 for all the above).

Yes, I'm sniveling - even if she does have 100K+ and those are the big expenses.

I like sniveling, if I'm the one that gets to do it.... Ò¿Ö

Yard Work

Finished off the doggie fence today.

Because I now live in SE Georgia (That's "Jawja" to them in the know), I'm going to put this post in the local accent:

"A'hmm whupped"

G'night....