No, not the mountains. The baseball team. Those who know me know I have no use for any "professional sport." (I'm not a fan of "sports" period, but that's a whole other philosophical debate.)
But I hate, detest, despise, abhor the Rockies. Why, you ask? Because I am sick and tired of trying to get home from work in the unholy mess they create downtown.
All summer, those of us who work downtown are dealing with their afternoon games that get out right at rush hour. My office is about a mile from I-25. Tonight, it took me over 30 minutes to get to the highway. Why, you ask? Thanks to the Rockies and all of the crazy people who think it's fun to go to a baseball game in the afternoon and then screw up downtown.
Yes, I know, businesses like the games. They like to take money away from Rockies fans. For parking, for food, for whatever they can dream up. I have to drive right by the ballpark and I don't like any of them. Case in point, tonight. I got to sit at the same traffic light through four (that's 4) cycles until the police decided to stop the flow of Rockies minions coming out of the ballpark and actually let traffic move. Does anyone appreciate sitting in traffic, waiting for crazy people to get off the street, in 90 degree heat, wasting gas. Considering the price of gas? I sure don't.
Then there are the absolutely stupid "fans." The ones who have no better sense than to walk right out into the street against the traffic lights. Maybe there should be a minimum IQ required to be allowed to attend baseball games.
Why is it necessary to schedule games to start at a time when you know they will end right at rush hour? Which brain surgeon thought that was a good idea? Oh, gee, they lost today? Good! While I question my ability to "hex" anyone, I do negatively curse them every day when I drive by Coors Field. And, no, I'm not going to stop until they stop scheduling games that end right at rush hour.
While I'm complaining, why is it necessary to start games at 6:00 p.m.? That doesn't have a good impact on rush hour, either. Have you been downtown to see all of the idiots who work for the parking lots who are standing in the street, trying to get people into their lots? Stay the devil out of my way! I don't want to park in your lots and I sure don't want to see a baseball game.
Are the 6:00 games supposed to be enticing for those who work downtown? Start the game at 7:00. Gives people more time to waste money on food and alcohol before the game. Stop pissing off those of us who work downtown and just want to go home after work!
Personally, I am thrilled that the Rockies are having a crummy year. The good news for you fans out there? I retire in December 2012, so I will only be cursing them for one more season!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Just Thinking
It's dangerous when I think, no?
Not this time. Yesterday was Mom's birthday. I kept myself real busy, spent a lot of the day at the kennel playing with the 2 week old puppies and letting my beasts play. I always figure it's better to stay busy than sit around thinking. Didn't really work, tho.
So, today, I'm cleaning the house. As I'm vacuuming, I'm thinking, how did Mom do it? She was a stay-at-home mom, but let's be honest, taking care of me and Pa was no picnic. I now realize she is partly to blame for how spoiled Pa is now, but I also know he was no easier to take care of back then. He couldn't do anything without making a mess and he was never good at cleaning up the mess when he was done. (I still remember the time he was painting the outside of the windows, and got about as much paint inside as out...Ma was less than thrilled!)
The "routine" stuff was a lot to do. Monday was laundry. It wasn't as easy then as it is now. The family will recall that when I was a little brat, I stuck my arm in the washing machine ringer and tried to remove my arm at the elbow. After that, they got one of them fancy automatic washing machines. But it wasn't as big as the ones we have now, so it took longer to get it done. Even after we had a dryer, Mom would still hang clothes out to dry. I remember the clotheslines strung all around our back yard, from tree to tree. She would go out and wipe down the line to make sure it was clean before she put out her clean laundry. When one load was done, part of the previous load might be ready to take down. In and out, check the laundry. She didn't want to leave it out too long, the birds had a habit of christening it, and then she had more work. If she was lucky, she was done with the laundry in time to sit for a few minutes before it was time to cook supper.
Tuesday was ironing day. I KNOW! Ironing! Can you imagine? That routine actually began the night before. For those who don't remember, back in "the old days," we didn't have them fancy irons that had steam. The night before, you would get out the sprinkling bottle. Usually, an old Coke bottle with a top on it that had holes in it to "sprinkle." Lay the shirt or pants or whatever out on the kitchen table, sprinkle it, roll it up and stick it in a plastic bag. Repeat until all of the laundry was in the bag, ready for ironing. Sometimes, she would just sprinkle as she ironed. Ironing was hot and miserable. Thank God for permanent press!
I can't remember now if Wednesday or Thursday was cleaning the floor day. The floor in the kitchen, hall and bathroom was this nasty black tile, and she had the "scrubber" to clean it. Then you had to wait for it to dry. Then wax it, because it was really ugly without wax. The rest of the house was hard wood floors, so "all" she had to do was run the vacuum. Sometimes she would just use the dust mop. (Do they even still make dust mops?)
Friday was always grocery shopping day. Oh, what fun. Not. I think I inherited my dislike of grocery shopping from Mom. Even shopping was a lot different. There were no bar codes. Everything had a little price sticker on it. The "checker" actually had to punch in each individual price of each item. It's scary to think that back then, about $5 worth of groceries would fit into one of those paper grocery bags.
Cleaning the bathroom was different. We didn't have all of those miracle cleaning products. Mom had rags, Comet and elbow grease. She was forever washing rugs, drapes, windows. There was dusting and just plain picking up after Dad and me. She painted the walls and ceilings before they put in ceiling tile and paneling in some of the rooms. She made curtains for the kitchen windows, for the bathroom and for my room.
She made a lot of her clothes and my clothes. I would drive her nuts. She would take me to pick out a pattern for something and I always picked out stuff that either wasn't easy to make, or wasn't real practical.
If that wasn't enough, she loved to garden and for several years we had that for her to take care of, too. Personally, I hated picking strawberries and peas and beans. She liked flowers, too, but that was a losing battle with my father and his lawn mower.
All of that, and she always had dinner on the table at 4:30 p.m. for my father.
Then, when I was 8, her parents moved into a mobile home in our back yard. Gradma did the routine cooking and cleaning, but Mom did their laundry and the hard stuff that Grandma couldn't handle.
I wonder that she didn't lose her temper more often. Like the day Grandpa was going to walk the 5 miles in to town because she wouldn't drive him (he had Parkinson's and couldn't walk worth beans) and she tied him to his chair in the back yard because he refused to go back into the house. Or the time Pa bugged her once too often too early in the morning, and she smacked him on the head with frozen sausages. (God knows, I've been tempted more than once!) Or the time she shoved the Maypo (nasty cereal I screamed I had to have in the grocery store, and then refused to eat) down my throat.
I don't know how she did it. Guess I just miss her today.
Not this time. Yesterday was Mom's birthday. I kept myself real busy, spent a lot of the day at the kennel playing with the 2 week old puppies and letting my beasts play. I always figure it's better to stay busy than sit around thinking. Didn't really work, tho.
So, today, I'm cleaning the house. As I'm vacuuming, I'm thinking, how did Mom do it? She was a stay-at-home mom, but let's be honest, taking care of me and Pa was no picnic. I now realize she is partly to blame for how spoiled Pa is now, but I also know he was no easier to take care of back then. He couldn't do anything without making a mess and he was never good at cleaning up the mess when he was done. (I still remember the time he was painting the outside of the windows, and got about as much paint inside as out...Ma was less than thrilled!)
The "routine" stuff was a lot to do. Monday was laundry. It wasn't as easy then as it is now. The family will recall that when I was a little brat, I stuck my arm in the washing machine ringer and tried to remove my arm at the elbow. After that, they got one of them fancy automatic washing machines. But it wasn't as big as the ones we have now, so it took longer to get it done. Even after we had a dryer, Mom would still hang clothes out to dry. I remember the clotheslines strung all around our back yard, from tree to tree. She would go out and wipe down the line to make sure it was clean before she put out her clean laundry. When one load was done, part of the previous load might be ready to take down. In and out, check the laundry. She didn't want to leave it out too long, the birds had a habit of christening it, and then she had more work. If she was lucky, she was done with the laundry in time to sit for a few minutes before it was time to cook supper.
Tuesday was ironing day. I KNOW! Ironing! Can you imagine? That routine actually began the night before. For those who don't remember, back in "the old days," we didn't have them fancy irons that had steam. The night before, you would get out the sprinkling bottle. Usually, an old Coke bottle with a top on it that had holes in it to "sprinkle." Lay the shirt or pants or whatever out on the kitchen table, sprinkle it, roll it up and stick it in a plastic bag. Repeat until all of the laundry was in the bag, ready for ironing. Sometimes, she would just sprinkle as she ironed. Ironing was hot and miserable. Thank God for permanent press!
I can't remember now if Wednesday or Thursday was cleaning the floor day. The floor in the kitchen, hall and bathroom was this nasty black tile, and she had the "scrubber" to clean it. Then you had to wait for it to dry. Then wax it, because it was really ugly without wax. The rest of the house was hard wood floors, so "all" she had to do was run the vacuum. Sometimes she would just use the dust mop. (Do they even still make dust mops?)
Friday was always grocery shopping day. Oh, what fun. Not. I think I inherited my dislike of grocery shopping from Mom. Even shopping was a lot different. There were no bar codes. Everything had a little price sticker on it. The "checker" actually had to punch in each individual price of each item. It's scary to think that back then, about $5 worth of groceries would fit into one of those paper grocery bags.
Cleaning the bathroom was different. We didn't have all of those miracle cleaning products. Mom had rags, Comet and elbow grease. She was forever washing rugs, drapes, windows. There was dusting and just plain picking up after Dad and me. She painted the walls and ceilings before they put in ceiling tile and paneling in some of the rooms. She made curtains for the kitchen windows, for the bathroom and for my room.
She made a lot of her clothes and my clothes. I would drive her nuts. She would take me to pick out a pattern for something and I always picked out stuff that either wasn't easy to make, or wasn't real practical.
If that wasn't enough, she loved to garden and for several years we had that for her to take care of, too. Personally, I hated picking strawberries and peas and beans. She liked flowers, too, but that was a losing battle with my father and his lawn mower.
All of that, and she always had dinner on the table at 4:30 p.m. for my father.
Then, when I was 8, her parents moved into a mobile home in our back yard. Gradma did the routine cooking and cleaning, but Mom did their laundry and the hard stuff that Grandma couldn't handle.
I wonder that she didn't lose her temper more often. Like the day Grandpa was going to walk the 5 miles in to town because she wouldn't drive him (he had Parkinson's and couldn't walk worth beans) and she tied him to his chair in the back yard because he refused to go back into the house. Or the time Pa bugged her once too often too early in the morning, and she smacked him on the head with frozen sausages. (God knows, I've been tempted more than once!) Or the time she shoved the Maypo (nasty cereal I screamed I had to have in the grocery store, and then refused to eat) down my throat.
I don't know how she did it. Guess I just miss her today.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Stinky Things
Yep, bizarre title, but stinky things are on my last nerve this week. No, not bad stinky things, things that people think "stink" good. I can stand the routine bad foot odor, the dog fart, but those perfumy things absolutely kill me.
Why do people think you want to be subjected to their favorite stink? Hey, people! Here's a clue! If you walk down the sidewalk and leave a cloud of "aroma" half a block behind you, you could stand to cut back on the stink-juice. If people getting in the elevator a half hour after you were in it can still smell you, it's too much. If you make the eyes of the person sitting next to you water, tone it down. If small animals sneeze when you approach, please, cut back!
There are some of us out here who really have problems with strong scents. There are many perfumes that give me an instant headache. I don't complain to be mean, I complain because it makes me sick!
Why am I venting today? Because I got in the elevator at the court house today and had to walk right back out. Nope, there was no one in it. Just the "ghost" of whoever was in it before me. Someone sitting next to me in the court room also had on enough perfume to choke a horse. People wonder why my office door is closed all the time? Let me explain: I can't stand the perfume and "air freshener" wafting up and down the hall. (I also have a constant battle with the cleaning people in the building using stinky cleaning products in my office. I have had to leave my office at times and let it air out.)
While I'm thinking about it, "air freshener" is not air and it ain't fresh. It's darn near a deadly weapon.
I would love to be able to wear scented things. I can't. People think I'm lying or exaggerating abut how their pretty smells affect me. Nope, not. You will find me in the "unscented" section of the store. Soaps, lotions, you name it. Perfume? Absolutely not!
All of you young 'uns out there, laugh if you want, but things change when you get older. My dear sister was pretty unsympathetic about my allergies and sinus infections when I was younger. Guess what, the Universe decided to 'splain it to her. Ask her about allergies now!
The bottom line is, you may think it stinks really, really good. That's fine. But please, just like I don't want to be inhaling second-hand cigarette smoke, I really don't want to be inhaling your favorite stink, getting a headache, and having to dig out my inhaler because I can't breathe. Take it easy on the stink!
Why do people think you want to be subjected to their favorite stink? Hey, people! Here's a clue! If you walk down the sidewalk and leave a cloud of "aroma" half a block behind you, you could stand to cut back on the stink-juice. If people getting in the elevator a half hour after you were in it can still smell you, it's too much. If you make the eyes of the person sitting next to you water, tone it down. If small animals sneeze when you approach, please, cut back!
There are some of us out here who really have problems with strong scents. There are many perfumes that give me an instant headache. I don't complain to be mean, I complain because it makes me sick!
Why am I venting today? Because I got in the elevator at the court house today and had to walk right back out. Nope, there was no one in it. Just the "ghost" of whoever was in it before me. Someone sitting next to me in the court room also had on enough perfume to choke a horse. People wonder why my office door is closed all the time? Let me explain: I can't stand the perfume and "air freshener" wafting up and down the hall. (I also have a constant battle with the cleaning people in the building using stinky cleaning products in my office. I have had to leave my office at times and let it air out.)
While I'm thinking about it, "air freshener" is not air and it ain't fresh. It's darn near a deadly weapon.
I would love to be able to wear scented things. I can't. People think I'm lying or exaggerating abut how their pretty smells affect me. Nope, not. You will find me in the "unscented" section of the store. Soaps, lotions, you name it. Perfume? Absolutely not!
All of you young 'uns out there, laugh if you want, but things change when you get older. My dear sister was pretty unsympathetic about my allergies and sinus infections when I was younger. Guess what, the Universe decided to 'splain it to her. Ask her about allergies now!
The bottom line is, you may think it stinks really, really good. That's fine. But please, just like I don't want to be inhaling second-hand cigarette smoke, I really don't want to be inhaling your favorite stink, getting a headache, and having to dig out my inhaler because I can't breathe. Take it easy on the stink!
Saturday, December 11, 2010
OK, Ma, You Win!
I surrender, you have finally gotten even for all the rotten things I did when I was a kid!
What, you might ask, am I talking about? You all know about the "mother's curse," right? You know, when you are a kid and driving her insane and she says, "I hope you have a kid just like you!" Well, I foolishly thought I had escaped. Nope.
See, I didn't have kids. Any time I even thought about it, I remembered that curse. But now I have my 83 year old child! And believe me, he is more than enough for Mom to get even.
Miss out on not sleeping through the night? Oh, no. We periodically have these nights where he yells at me multiple times and wakes me up. Like last night. We had "I'm cold" after he managed to throw his electric blanket on the floor. We had "I'm thirsty" and of course I had to remind him he didn't drink all of his tea like I told him to before he went to bed. We had "I need some tylenol." We had "What time is it?" at 3:00 a.m. No, I don't know why. Then we had "Aren't you going to work?" at 6:00 a.m. Nope, it's Saturday, but thanks for getting me up. Again.
Miss out on diapers? Well, Depends are close enough in my book. We go through times when he insists on wearing them. I admit, I don't complain, it does save some messes. Then he goes through times when he doesn't want anything to do with them. What can I say. Isn't like I can make him put them on.
Miss out on messes? Oh, no, believe me, we have plenty. Like yesterday, the Meals on Wheels people gave him this pretty glass ornament with his dinner. At least, I guess it was pretty. All I really know is, it was glass, round, and had a bunch of water based blue paint or dye inside. This I know because there were pieces of glass and blue slime all over my kitchen floor when I got home last night. And blue footprints, or sockprints, all over the house. I like the Meals on Wheels people, I really do, but what the DEVIL were they thinking?!
Then there was his birthday cake, which this year was an ice cream cake. After he got done, he had ice cream all over his face, shirt, hands...
I'm not sure I missed out on the potty training aspect, either. You know how a little kid will avoid going to the bathroom until the very last second... and you know what happens. Yep, it's fun. I also made the mistake of letting him have a commode in his room to encourage him to drink more (some days I think I need to drink more) since he complained about having to get up to go to the bathroom at night. It's now a regular for him to go to bed at 7:00 and an hour later I hear this little voice: "I made poopoo" or "I made a stinker." I am often tempted to just ignore it and make him put up with "the stinker," but since the stink doesn't remain confined to his room, I haven't given in to that temptation.
You think it's hard to get kids to eat decent meals? Kids ain't got nothin' on this one! He flat refuses to eat things that were nearly daily staples. Like salad, fruit, any potatos except french fries, and most veggies. He won't touch soup of any variety. Asked him what he wanted for Christmas dinner, he says a hamburger. WHAT?
Can I ask, why don't they make Garanimals clothes in his size? Of course, I don't think he would bother trying to match anything up, anyway. I'm just happy he puts clothes on. There was the day when I came home and he told me the Meals on Wheels lady helped him put his pants on. And the day I came home and he was sitting in his chair in his underwear and told me he couldn't find his clothes. I often wonder what those Meals on Wheels people think...
Remember your parents yelling at you to stop wasting water, turn off the lights, that kind of stuff? At least I know I did on many occasions when I was a kid. Now, he turns on every light he can reach and leaves them on. Insists I leave a light, not a night light, on in his room all night. He runs enough water brushing his teeth to fill a bathtub. He also has this strange toilet flushing thing going on, he always flushes at least 3 times. I'm not sure if he forgets he already flushed or what the problem is, but I figure 'tis better to flush than not flush, at least from my perspective, so I just leave it alone.
He is a goofball, we all knew that a long time ago. I guess I'm a glutton for punishment, I have to admit, I wouldn't do anything different if I had it all to do over again.
What, you might ask, am I talking about? You all know about the "mother's curse," right? You know, when you are a kid and driving her insane and she says, "I hope you have a kid just like you!" Well, I foolishly thought I had escaped. Nope.
See, I didn't have kids. Any time I even thought about it, I remembered that curse. But now I have my 83 year old child! And believe me, he is more than enough for Mom to get even.
Miss out on not sleeping through the night? Oh, no. We periodically have these nights where he yells at me multiple times and wakes me up. Like last night. We had "I'm cold" after he managed to throw his electric blanket on the floor. We had "I'm thirsty" and of course I had to remind him he didn't drink all of his tea like I told him to before he went to bed. We had "I need some tylenol." We had "What time is it?" at 3:00 a.m. No, I don't know why. Then we had "Aren't you going to work?" at 6:00 a.m. Nope, it's Saturday, but thanks for getting me up. Again.
Miss out on diapers? Well, Depends are close enough in my book. We go through times when he insists on wearing them. I admit, I don't complain, it does save some messes. Then he goes through times when he doesn't want anything to do with them. What can I say. Isn't like I can make him put them on.
Miss out on messes? Oh, no, believe me, we have plenty. Like yesterday, the Meals on Wheels people gave him this pretty glass ornament with his dinner. At least, I guess it was pretty. All I really know is, it was glass, round, and had a bunch of water based blue paint or dye inside. This I know because there were pieces of glass and blue slime all over my kitchen floor when I got home last night. And blue footprints, or sockprints, all over the house. I like the Meals on Wheels people, I really do, but what the DEVIL were they thinking?!
Then there was his birthday cake, which this year was an ice cream cake. After he got done, he had ice cream all over his face, shirt, hands...
I'm not sure I missed out on the potty training aspect, either. You know how a little kid will avoid going to the bathroom until the very last second... and you know what happens. Yep, it's fun. I also made the mistake of letting him have a commode in his room to encourage him to drink more (some days I think I need to drink more) since he complained about having to get up to go to the bathroom at night. It's now a regular for him to go to bed at 7:00 and an hour later I hear this little voice: "I made poopoo" or "I made a stinker." I am often tempted to just ignore it and make him put up with "the stinker," but since the stink doesn't remain confined to his room, I haven't given in to that temptation.
You think it's hard to get kids to eat decent meals? Kids ain't got nothin' on this one! He flat refuses to eat things that were nearly daily staples. Like salad, fruit, any potatos except french fries, and most veggies. He won't touch soup of any variety. Asked him what he wanted for Christmas dinner, he says a hamburger. WHAT?
Can I ask, why don't they make Garanimals clothes in his size? Of course, I don't think he would bother trying to match anything up, anyway. I'm just happy he puts clothes on. There was the day when I came home and he told me the Meals on Wheels lady helped him put his pants on. And the day I came home and he was sitting in his chair in his underwear and told me he couldn't find his clothes. I often wonder what those Meals on Wheels people think...
Remember your parents yelling at you to stop wasting water, turn off the lights, that kind of stuff? At least I know I did on many occasions when I was a kid. Now, he turns on every light he can reach and leaves them on. Insists I leave a light, not a night light, on in his room all night. He runs enough water brushing his teeth to fill a bathtub. He also has this strange toilet flushing thing going on, he always flushes at least 3 times. I'm not sure if he forgets he already flushed or what the problem is, but I figure 'tis better to flush than not flush, at least from my perspective, so I just leave it alone.
He is a goofball, we all knew that a long time ago. I guess I'm a glutton for punishment, I have to admit, I wouldn't do anything different if I had it all to do over again.
Monday, November 29, 2010
What the Devil Happened?
I know the "Old Farts" reading this will understand. You "kids" out there, don't worry, your time is coming!
It recently hit me, I'm "Old!" How did I figure it out? Well....
First, I get cold now. I used to keep the temp in my office on "meat locker," but now it's uncomfortable and I have been pushing the thermostat up to (GASP) 70! I'm pleased to say, I still don't enjoy the heat much higher than that, which means I won't be able to wear long sleeves all winter (again) since I have to keep the heat up to 74 for Pa.
I like gloves now. Until last year, I very seldom ever gave in and wore gloves. Now, my hands start to hurt when I'm out in the cold, and my gloves are in my coat pockets to make sure I have them. I'm thinking about getting one of those string things that goes through the arms of your coat to hold your mittens/gloves. I may have a heart attack if I lose them! I know my hands would fall off...
I used a hood! Traditionally, I hate things on my head. Have not been a fan of hats, hoods, any of that stuff. I left the office today with the temperature sitting at 29, the wind blowing like mad, and used the hood on my coat for the first time ever. Of course, I was also cussing the construction people who have the sidewalk blocked for the next 3 years which makes us have to walk way out of our way to get to the parking lot. (Just dawned on me, I will be retired before that stupid construction fence comes down!)
My feet get cold. OK, they got cold before, but now when they get cold, they cramp and hurt. Which means I can't run around barefoot in the snow any more. (Yes, I did.)(I know, Mom said that, too.)
My sciatic nerve is a pain in...well... the rearend. Literally. Yes, it's been a problem for the past, oh, 30 years, but when did it get to be better at predicting the weather than the "weather men?" It was not a happy moment when I realized the more my butt hurt, the better chance we had of having rain or snow.
My eyes. Oh, yes, let's not forget them! How nice it was to hear the opthamologist tell me my cataracts are getting worse. Cataracts? Worse? Excuse me? Seems he thought he told me about them last year. Nope. But thanks for letting me have one more year of ignorance. I'd really rather not know. I think?
But now that I know about the cataracts, I understand why some lighting conditions give me a fit. And why driving at night is a pain in the tush.
I used to be worried about "cute" clothes. We all know our parents told us that some day being comfortable would be more important than being "cute." Danged if it didn't happen. And even if they are comfy, if they aren't washable and permanent press, forget it! (Iron? What's that? Wait, I'm sure I have one in the basement...somewhere!)
Shoes and I have never been good friends. Even less so now. There will be no heels, no pointy toes, none of that "fashion" nonsense. I want comfort!
There are some little things, like balance, that I miss. OK, it isn't that bad. But when I was a kid, I could spin in a circle, stop, and walk a straight line. No more. While the doctor doesn't know the cause, I have this little friend "Vertigo" that visits occasionally. First time I noticed it, the [jerk] doctor said it was just because I am "old and dehydrated." Yep, found me a new doctor.
Is losing patience a sign of getting old? It never used to bother me when I sat waiting forever for someone or something. Which is really a good thing since during the past 30 years I have spent a significant amount of time waiting for attorneys, judges, criminals, or all three. It gets on my last nerve now, tho. I start fantasizing about what evil thing I might be able to do, and get away with, to get even. Wait, is that passive aggressive?
There are some things that confuse me, tho. I have a touch of asthma now. Why is it most "normal" people have asthma as kids and outgrow it? Not me, I first had that little issue a couple of years ago. Isn't that regressing?
And my face. Or, more specifically, the oil on my face. When I was a teen, everyone said when I hit 25, my skin would dry out, so I better enjoy it. Well, THAT was a lie. Then it was supposed to be 30, then 35... Now, most of you know how old I am (or have a pretty good idea) and danged if I still don't get zits! Sink an oil well in my face and end all oil shortages!
I know, I'm really pretty lucky, my health is pretty good, but some days you just need to vent!
It recently hit me, I'm "Old!" How did I figure it out? Well....
First, I get cold now. I used to keep the temp in my office on "meat locker," but now it's uncomfortable and I have been pushing the thermostat up to (GASP) 70! I'm pleased to say, I still don't enjoy the heat much higher than that, which means I won't be able to wear long sleeves all winter (again) since I have to keep the heat up to 74 for Pa.
I like gloves now. Until last year, I very seldom ever gave in and wore gloves. Now, my hands start to hurt when I'm out in the cold, and my gloves are in my coat pockets to make sure I have them. I'm thinking about getting one of those string things that goes through the arms of your coat to hold your mittens/gloves. I may have a heart attack if I lose them! I know my hands would fall off...
I used a hood! Traditionally, I hate things on my head. Have not been a fan of hats, hoods, any of that stuff. I left the office today with the temperature sitting at 29, the wind blowing like mad, and used the hood on my coat for the first time ever. Of course, I was also cussing the construction people who have the sidewalk blocked for the next 3 years which makes us have to walk way out of our way to get to the parking lot. (Just dawned on me, I will be retired before that stupid construction fence comes down!)
My feet get cold. OK, they got cold before, but now when they get cold, they cramp and hurt. Which means I can't run around barefoot in the snow any more. (Yes, I did.)(I know, Mom said that, too.)
My sciatic nerve is a pain in...well... the rearend. Literally. Yes, it's been a problem for the past, oh, 30 years, but when did it get to be better at predicting the weather than the "weather men?" It was not a happy moment when I realized the more my butt hurt, the better chance we had of having rain or snow.
My eyes. Oh, yes, let's not forget them! How nice it was to hear the opthamologist tell me my cataracts are getting worse. Cataracts? Worse? Excuse me? Seems he thought he told me about them last year. Nope. But thanks for letting me have one more year of ignorance. I'd really rather not know. I think?
But now that I know about the cataracts, I understand why some lighting conditions give me a fit. And why driving at night is a pain in the tush.
I used to be worried about "cute" clothes. We all know our parents told us that some day being comfortable would be more important than being "cute." Danged if it didn't happen. And even if they are comfy, if they aren't washable and permanent press, forget it! (Iron? What's that? Wait, I'm sure I have one in the basement...somewhere!)
Shoes and I have never been good friends. Even less so now. There will be no heels, no pointy toes, none of that "fashion" nonsense. I want comfort!
There are some little things, like balance, that I miss. OK, it isn't that bad. But when I was a kid, I could spin in a circle, stop, and walk a straight line. No more. While the doctor doesn't know the cause, I have this little friend "Vertigo" that visits occasionally. First time I noticed it, the [jerk] doctor said it was just because I am "old and dehydrated." Yep, found me a new doctor.
Is losing patience a sign of getting old? It never used to bother me when I sat waiting forever for someone or something. Which is really a good thing since during the past 30 years I have spent a significant amount of time waiting for attorneys, judges, criminals, or all three. It gets on my last nerve now, tho. I start fantasizing about what evil thing I might be able to do, and get away with, to get even. Wait, is that passive aggressive?
There are some things that confuse me, tho. I have a touch of asthma now. Why is it most "normal" people have asthma as kids and outgrow it? Not me, I first had that little issue a couple of years ago. Isn't that regressing?
And my face. Or, more specifically, the oil on my face. When I was a teen, everyone said when I hit 25, my skin would dry out, so I better enjoy it. Well, THAT was a lie. Then it was supposed to be 30, then 35... Now, most of you know how old I am (or have a pretty good idea) and danged if I still don't get zits! Sink an oil well in my face and end all oil shortages!
I know, I'm really pretty lucky, my health is pretty good, but some days you just need to vent!
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Kudos for On the Rocks
Wow, it's been a long time! I really don't know why. It certainly isn't because I have become any less opinionated. Maybe I just haven't thought of anything worth talking about for a while?
But now I have! Back to music! One of my favorite things. A few weeks ago, I saw a link on FaceBook for a YouTube video of an acapella group from the University of Oregon. On the Rocks. I always check out YouTube links, you can get some great laughs and find some seriously good stuff there. I checked out the video, and was absolutely blown away. We all know I was a "choir geek" in high school, I was a member of our "Acapella" choir (strangely enough, we seldom sand anything acapella.) I love tight harmonies, I love listening to male vocal groups. (I don't know why, but there really aren't many female singers I like.)
When I listened to On the Rocks, I was reminded of a group from a few years back, The Nylons. A Canadian acapella group. In 1989, The Nylons put out an album titled Rockapella. On that album, they talk about "taking acapella into the 90's." Yes, I know how old I am. Give it a rest! I love The Nylons, and yes, I had the pleasure of seeing them in concert twice. They are not only fantastic vocalists, they have a great rapport and are fun to watch. You know making music, singong with each other and entertaining their audience is fun for them. That's what makes it fun for everyone.
Would it ever be possible for acapella to break into "mainstream" music? I only wish! What is more exciting, more intriguing, or more impressive than a handful of guys getting up in front of an audience and using the original musical instruments, their voices, and only their voices, to make music?
I believe On the Rocks can take acapella into the new millennium! They have the outstanding voices, the showmanship, the instinct for entertaining their audience. I have spent hours listening to their YouTube videos. Oh, who am I kidding. I have ripped several of them to put on my iPod so I can torture people with them! I now have all of the albums they have produced over the years. On the Rocks has taken on a wide range of styles and moods. They have made me cry and laugh and amazed me by "out gaga-ing" Lady Gaga. (Yep, I think their arrangement and performance of Bad Romance is better than the original. Sorry!)
Perhaps when you think of acapella, you think of barbershop. Yeah, it's that, too, but these guys are so much more. Their vocal percussion is amazing. Using voices for the instruments is fantastic. This isn't grandma's acapella. This type of music deserves to be heard by a much larger audience. After their YouTube video of Bad Romance went viral, they seemed to be shocked at the attention. I could explain it to them. They are fresh, they are new, they are talented, they just plain ROCK! They do weekly concerts on campus during the school year, which is where a number of their videos originated. I confess, I like those weekly shows, just them hanging out and singing their hearts out, better than the "official" performance videos. I understand it's tradition for them to do a midnight concert at the end of the school year. I'm tempted to book a flight to Oregon.
Of course, I want everyone to check out On the Rocks on YouTube. My favorites?
Kyrie Eleison
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgvVme1zRB8
Bad Romance
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8PAuvxCZuM&feature=related
Afloat (by Caleb and Sol Rexius, Caleb a former On the Rocks member)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nP0VVNebbSM
Eye to Eye
http://www.youtube.com/user/yankeessuck8991#p/u/4/73qNHYhfA3g
Lullaby
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iaQ51pOlJXM
For the Longest Time
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CbLgJTycnHA&feature=related
Ah, there are too many to list!
I truly hope those kids know how good they are, I hope their exposure with Bad Romance results in many new fans of the genre. I hope one, or some, of you reading this will "get it" and understand my excitement!
Now, I think I need to go make a donation to some school music program. Perhaps if more people appreciated music, the world would be a better place to live...
What was I thinking? I forgot the most important link, the link to their website!
http://www.uoontherocks.com/
Could someone please tell them their current group page needs to be updated? We also need new YouTube videos to see what they are up to this year!
But now I have! Back to music! One of my favorite things. A few weeks ago, I saw a link on FaceBook for a YouTube video of an acapella group from the University of Oregon. On the Rocks. I always check out YouTube links, you can get some great laughs and find some seriously good stuff there. I checked out the video, and was absolutely blown away. We all know I was a "choir geek" in high school, I was a member of our "Acapella" choir (strangely enough, we seldom sand anything acapella.) I love tight harmonies, I love listening to male vocal groups. (I don't know why, but there really aren't many female singers I like.)
When I listened to On the Rocks, I was reminded of a group from a few years back, The Nylons. A Canadian acapella group. In 1989, The Nylons put out an album titled Rockapella. On that album, they talk about "taking acapella into the 90's." Yes, I know how old I am. Give it a rest! I love The Nylons, and yes, I had the pleasure of seeing them in concert twice. They are not only fantastic vocalists, they have a great rapport and are fun to watch. You know making music, singong with each other and entertaining their audience is fun for them. That's what makes it fun for everyone.
Would it ever be possible for acapella to break into "mainstream" music? I only wish! What is more exciting, more intriguing, or more impressive than a handful of guys getting up in front of an audience and using the original musical instruments, their voices, and only their voices, to make music?
I believe On the Rocks can take acapella into the new millennium! They have the outstanding voices, the showmanship, the instinct for entertaining their audience. I have spent hours listening to their YouTube videos. Oh, who am I kidding. I have ripped several of them to put on my iPod so I can torture people with them! I now have all of the albums they have produced over the years. On the Rocks has taken on a wide range of styles and moods. They have made me cry and laugh and amazed me by "out gaga-ing" Lady Gaga. (Yep, I think their arrangement and performance of Bad Romance is better than the original. Sorry!)
Perhaps when you think of acapella, you think of barbershop. Yeah, it's that, too, but these guys are so much more. Their vocal percussion is amazing. Using voices for the instruments is fantastic. This isn't grandma's acapella. This type of music deserves to be heard by a much larger audience. After their YouTube video of Bad Romance went viral, they seemed to be shocked at the attention. I could explain it to them. They are fresh, they are new, they are talented, they just plain ROCK! They do weekly concerts on campus during the school year, which is where a number of their videos originated. I confess, I like those weekly shows, just them hanging out and singing their hearts out, better than the "official" performance videos. I understand it's tradition for them to do a midnight concert at the end of the school year. I'm tempted to book a flight to Oregon.
Of course, I want everyone to check out On the Rocks on YouTube. My favorites?
Kyrie Eleison
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgvVme1zRB8
Bad Romance
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8PAuvxCZuM&feature=related
Afloat (by Caleb and Sol Rexius, Caleb a former On the Rocks member)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nP0VVNebbSM
Eye to Eye
http://www.youtube.com/user/yankeessuck8991#p/u/4/73qNHYhfA3g
Lullaby
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iaQ51pOlJXM
For the Longest Time
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CbLgJTycnHA&feature=related
Ah, there are too many to list!
I truly hope those kids know how good they are, I hope their exposure with Bad Romance results in many new fans of the genre. I hope one, or some, of you reading this will "get it" and understand my excitement!
Now, I think I need to go make a donation to some school music program. Perhaps if more people appreciated music, the world would be a better place to live...
What was I thinking? I forgot the most important link, the link to their website!
http://www.uoontherocks.com/
Could someone please tell them their current group page needs to be updated? We also need new YouTube videos to see what they are up to this year!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
The Never Ending Tales (of John)
or What a Week it Has Been!
Monday started out normal enough. I went to do an interview at one of the jails, then came home to drag Father to the dentist for his check-up. He loves going to the dentist. (not) Got there, they gave him some antibiotics because his gums are awful, and the cleaning went fairly quickly and easily.
Go home, he ate his dinner, everything seems normal. Then he went to bed. And started dreaming, I think. He was yelling at people, telling them not to do things, said someone was earning $9.15 an hour, and he didn’t sound happy about it. Heard him complaining he was cold. About 4:00 a.m., he starts calling me, saying someone is starting a fire. Explained to him there was no fire and told him to go back to sleep. Not sure if he did, but I kept hearing him fussing at someone.
Tuesday, I got up at 6:30 a.m., as usual, I’m in the shower and he starts yelling for me to “Come here right now!” Told him to hang on to his shorts and I would be there when I got clothes on. When I got dressed, he is mad as a hornet because those guys had that fire burning, but they just put it out. Asked where the fire was, he said under the porch. Then he tells me he tried to put the fire out with the garden hose, but couldn’t and then said “those three guys who came in put the fire out.” OK. Three guys. What three guys? Told him there was no fire, he got angrier. I decided it wasn’t worth it and shut up. He sort of got settled down.
I went to do another interview. Got home just in time to get his lunch from the Meal on Wheels guy. Go in the house, and he is all put out, wants to know who those three guys were. What three guys? He doesn’t know who they were, but said they came in while he was taking a shPOOPt, and were sitting in the living room when he came out of the bathroom. He said the men wouldn't talk to him, just sat there looking at him. Oh, good. Nothing is out of place in the house. Nothing missing. I’m thinking he is still crazy, and I was right. He ate dinner and took his customary afternoon nap. I decided I wasn’t going in to the office with him acting goofy. He is asleep a little while and starts talking again. Then he is arguing with someone, can’t quite figure out what’s going on, so I asked him who he was talking to. He said “That guy standing over there” and points at the piano. Now, unless there was an invisible man, there was no guy on the piano. I told him there was no man. He got really mad.
By now, I’ve decided something isn’t right (ain’t I smart!) and decided he was going to the doctor Wednesday (Wednesday is one of the regular days they have someone in the office near us.) Also got chicken and gave him another dose of the antibiotics they use before his cleaning.
Tuesday night, he was up about every 90 minutes to 2 hours. He would get up and start walking into the living room. I’d get up and ask him why he was getting up in the middle of the night. He would get disgusted and go back to bed. About 3:00 a.m., I hear him complaining his back and hips hurt. This is not a surprise to me, he went to bed before it even got dark, I would think he would ache from lying there that long! About 4:00 a.m., he got up, said he was going to sit in his chair ‘cause his hips hurt. And he did. I didn’t hear another peep out of him the rest of the night.
Wednesday I call the doctor’s office and discover the person we wanted to see wasn’t in that day, and the other guy was double booked. Told me to call the Broomfield office and get a message to the one we wanted to see. So I call, leave a message, and of course, the didn’t call back until after 5:00 p.m. By then I had already made an appointment for Thursday in Thornton. Jerks. I prepared for another fun night.
But the fun night didn’t materialize. He was quiet, slept through the night, no yelling and no wandering.
Thursday we go to the doctor. He is no longer talking crazy. She can’t find anything wrong with him. No urinary tract infection. No real answers. If is was a mini-stroke, there appears to be no loss of motion. That was the strangest thing. He was never unsteady (well, any more than usual) on his feet, was talking as well as ever, no physical signs of anything.
I was too chicken to leave him and go to work Friday. He was fine all night Thursday night and Friday. Anyone have a nice padded cell I could borrow? I think I need one.
The big question remains, what was that all about? Did getting his teeth cleaned shake his marbles loose temporarily? We have no idea, but I’d really not like to do a repeat of this week in the near future!
Monday started out normal enough. I went to do an interview at one of the jails, then came home to drag Father to the dentist for his check-up. He loves going to the dentist. (not) Got there, they gave him some antibiotics because his gums are awful, and the cleaning went fairly quickly and easily.
Go home, he ate his dinner, everything seems normal. Then he went to bed. And started dreaming, I think. He was yelling at people, telling them not to do things, said someone was earning $9.15 an hour, and he didn’t sound happy about it. Heard him complaining he was cold. About 4:00 a.m., he starts calling me, saying someone is starting a fire. Explained to him there was no fire and told him to go back to sleep. Not sure if he did, but I kept hearing him fussing at someone.
Tuesday, I got up at 6:30 a.m., as usual, I’m in the shower and he starts yelling for me to “Come here right now!” Told him to hang on to his shorts and I would be there when I got clothes on. When I got dressed, he is mad as a hornet because those guys had that fire burning, but they just put it out. Asked where the fire was, he said under the porch. Then he tells me he tried to put the fire out with the garden hose, but couldn’t and then said “those three guys who came in put the fire out.” OK. Three guys. What three guys? Told him there was no fire, he got angrier. I decided it wasn’t worth it and shut up. He sort of got settled down.
I went to do another interview. Got home just in time to get his lunch from the Meal on Wheels guy. Go in the house, and he is all put out, wants to know who those three guys were. What three guys? He doesn’t know who they were, but said they came in while he was taking a shPOOPt, and were sitting in the living room when he came out of the bathroom. He said the men wouldn't talk to him, just sat there looking at him. Oh, good. Nothing is out of place in the house. Nothing missing. I’m thinking he is still crazy, and I was right. He ate dinner and took his customary afternoon nap. I decided I wasn’t going in to the office with him acting goofy. He is asleep a little while and starts talking again. Then he is arguing with someone, can’t quite figure out what’s going on, so I asked him who he was talking to. He said “That guy standing over there” and points at the piano. Now, unless there was an invisible man, there was no guy on the piano. I told him there was no man. He got really mad.
By now, I’ve decided something isn’t right (ain’t I smart!) and decided he was going to the doctor Wednesday (Wednesday is one of the regular days they have someone in the office near us.) Also got chicken and gave him another dose of the antibiotics they use before his cleaning.
Tuesday night, he was up about every 90 minutes to 2 hours. He would get up and start walking into the living room. I’d get up and ask him why he was getting up in the middle of the night. He would get disgusted and go back to bed. About 3:00 a.m., I hear him complaining his back and hips hurt. This is not a surprise to me, he went to bed before it even got dark, I would think he would ache from lying there that long! About 4:00 a.m., he got up, said he was going to sit in his chair ‘cause his hips hurt. And he did. I didn’t hear another peep out of him the rest of the night.
Wednesday I call the doctor’s office and discover the person we wanted to see wasn’t in that day, and the other guy was double booked. Told me to call the Broomfield office and get a message to the one we wanted to see. So I call, leave a message, and of course, the didn’t call back until after 5:00 p.m. By then I had already made an appointment for Thursday in Thornton. Jerks. I prepared for another fun night.
But the fun night didn’t materialize. He was quiet, slept through the night, no yelling and no wandering.
Thursday we go to the doctor. He is no longer talking crazy. She can’t find anything wrong with him. No urinary tract infection. No real answers. If is was a mini-stroke, there appears to be no loss of motion. That was the strangest thing. He was never unsteady (well, any more than usual) on his feet, was talking as well as ever, no physical signs of anything.
I was too chicken to leave him and go to work Friday. He was fine all night Thursday night and Friday. Anyone have a nice padded cell I could borrow? I think I need one.
The big question remains, what was that all about? Did getting his teeth cleaned shake his marbles loose temporarily? We have no idea, but I’d really not like to do a repeat of this week in the near future!
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