Baggage

(A special post for SundayScribblings)

The items we use for carrying our oh so precious stuff - for goodness sakes, we can't leave without this...or this here...oh, wait a minute...I need to take along that as well....just in case.
My first baggage that I can remember - was made of wire. It sat right between the handlebars of my Schwinn Stingray bike. Of course, it wasn't to cool to throw that accessory on the Stingray so as soon as I got home from school and ditched the school tomes, the basket came off too. That was handy. I actually had a removable piece of baggage.
It was during this time - around fifth grade that my parents subjected me to taking music at school. I love music now but hauling the saxophone to school via my pedal-and-chain-mobile taught me my first lesson in baggage handling. Bunjee chords were brand new back then 30+ years ago. I had my trusty basket between the bars and then to the front or on top of the basket, I strapped on another piece of baggage...the saxaphone case. Baggage on baggage. This was tricky and, as I am sure you can imagine, none to cool. Any chance of coolness was dispelled as most things that look awkward usually are and the entire load was often tossed to the dirt road that I travelled on. Oh the trauma of my childhood.
On to high school - where were backpacks in those days!!??!!! The baggage used there were my two appendages. This was a highly inefficient system when carrying multiple books, a lunch, and anything else.
College - brought along the introduction of the small backpace. This was cutting edge utilitarianism.
After graduating from business college - the logical career path was taken and I became a carpenter. Not a very good carpenter but a carpenter nonetheless. I still remember the 100 degree days. No sunscreen. A pair of gymshorts, redwing boots and my next piece of baggage....my toolbelt. I still have that toolbelt out in my garage. I tried to put it on the other day. Leather must not keep very well. After 20 years, it's shrunk...must have shrunk because it didn't come very close to fitting around my waist.
Then, the baggage gets serious - and you enter the world of work. You move up to a briefcase. Important people carry briefcases. Beginning loan officer...to senior loan officer...to manager.....to bigger manager. I have been through the old briefcases to more stylish ones to catalog cases to...
Laptop cases - the classic styling of a man's briefcase forever ruined by the need to carefully pack around the slave to which we have become. How many generic laptop cases have I been through? I can't even imagine.
You see corporate America drones packing around "the brain" in different sizes and configurations....but you don't really see the difference, do you? They are pretty much all black, nylon zippers, "that material" (you know...that nylon mesh stuff) and just wider and taller than laptop within.
Not mine! - I finally found something that is becoming a friend. He's my bag. Sometimes I insult him by making him bear the weight of my laptop and such silly contraptions like PDA's and laser pointers. Many times, I allow him to enjoy the heavier weight of the myriad of books that I want to read, pads to scribble on, and the variety of pens I carry. You can't have too many pens, right? Cell phone, keys, camera...it doesn't matter. My friend has a big mouth but he never tells. He just consumes. He begs me to travel heavier because he can take it. Many times, I give in to his desires and then it is my shoulder that tells me who really is in charge.
Old metal zippers - you don't see those anymore, do you? Yes, they have their misery but they bring a reminder of another time. It was a time that you didn't throw away and buy new. You went to the shoe repair shop and had it replaced or restitched. I guess there wasn't as much room in the landfills back in those days. We made things last even if what we had wasn't as good as the latest new thing. Why does the sentence I just wrote make me think of marriage?
I could scribble forever on this topic - but, alas, I have a meeting to go to. Let's see....what will I need at the meeting? What might I need if there is time to kill?...if I get bored? ...if I decide to go somewhere else when the meeting is done? I may not know what I am taking....but I know where I am putting it.
Time to start packing - maybe I will throw some underwear in my briefcase today. It will be the first time the name of the item accurately depics the object that it is describing.

Hotels

(A special post for SundayScribblings)
I find the topic of Hotels to be most provocative - and as I went about my travels today, I ventured by one of "those" hotels. Are you familiar? Do you want to be?
"Those" hotels are the ones - where an unknowing family on a budget could decide to stay for the night. It's close to the freeway. Perhaps it is not a hotel but a motel. This one, however, is not just for those on their way to Disneyland or Grandma's house. This particular place of hospitality also attracts "business" people. The type that are there for cheap and short term transactions where business casual means skin.
Yes, that is what I was going to write about this week - and delve into the side of lonliness, desperation, cheap thrills.....
I even took the picture - as I drove by.
And then I slapped myself and said - "Nutter, who deemed you the next Pulitzer Prize winner!!!"
Besides, if I followed that story, I would then have to - ahem...uh....well....."do the research" which didn't seem like a particularly savory investment of my time or money.
So, we head right back to my wheelhouse - the funny story!!! I arrived the night before a speaking engagement in a town just outside of San Francisco. I could have made the drive the following morning but I wanted to catch dinner with a friend of mine down near The City.
Upon checking in, there was a nice note from the management -
"For your safety, we will perform water maintenance on our water system Monday, April 17th. The entire water system will be shut down in the hotel from 12 noon until 3 pm. We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience you may encounter."
If you haven't figured it out by now - I am pretty easy going. Not much really gets to me. I don't think this did either. Yet, how could I ponder anything else as I checked in that Monday night but,

"I wonder if it worked!"

Let's go back and visit the note above- was it really necessary to begin the letter with "For your safety"? Perhaps I am a bit naive. When I go to a hotel in a developed country and especially near the city of San Francisco, I am pretty much not thinking that the water is going to be involved as a threat to my well being. Mugged? Sure. Panhandled? Expected. An occassional parasite because you aren't used to the local water supply? That's a given
"Hey, if they didn't need 'for your safety' they wouldn't have said, 'for your safety' now would they" - is the only thing that went through my head.
After being greeted with this letter - I wondered if, with all the hotels in America to pick, had Al-Qaeda picked this particular lodging location to carry out the next part of their plan?
So, here I am - in a strange city confronted by a dangerous challenge to my existence by the wettest villian of them all......the Water.
I stood in the face of that danger - I didn't ask if the testing had gone OK. Bravely, I wetted my toothbrush that night and shined my chompers as if the water had come out of a pristine spring. I showered zestily...rubbing the possible tainted aqua in total disregard that there could be caustic chemicals in them that would seer the epidermis from my body.
I then used the toilet with no.....- well....wait. I guess that, even if the water was contaminated there really wouldn't be any valor in using the head. OK...we'll skip that.
I only know this - when faced with the danger of a water supply that could have ended my days here, I stood up and let the world know that I would not be intimidated!!!

..................all while drinking the bottle of Evian that I had brought along.

Now that's some eatin!!!.....

Allright...what goes through your mind when someone says - Eggplant lasagna...or Zucchini Lasagna? If you are like me, it might be something like this, "hey, if I am going to pack on the carbs with that kind of pasta, I am going to throw in some real food!...meat...sausage..."

Here is the thing that I didn't know - and, while I may not be the brightest bulb in the lamp, I know there is someone out there amongst my massive readership that didn't know this either...

You replace the pasta....not the meat!!! - "what? Huh? Nutter, you nutter, what the heck are you talking about?"

Wow...you guys are a bit blunt but I like your spunk! - I was kicking around this weekend and somehow I come across The Victory Garden on the tube. Here is this Chef Boy-ar-dee fellow hanging outside with Gardner Green Jeans. They are picking vegetables and herbs. Now, this has my interest because, as all of you faithful readers know, I have this big garden going on this year for the first time in my life.

Chef Boy-ar-dee decides he is going to take eggplant and make eggplant lasagna - and I start going, "oh boy, when is he going to start throwing in the tofu as well?" But, because a mind is like a parachute....it works best when it is open....I decide to check it out.

The chef then takes the eggplant - and cuts it in long wide strips!!! He's not replacing the meat...he's replacing the noodles. All of a sudden, Einstein that I am, say, "hey, if he does this with eggplant, I can do this with a few of those 3 pound zucchinis that are taking over my backyard."

And I would say that within one hour - I went from couch potatoe to stuffing my gullet with the outcome that you see pictured above. I didn't even right down any instructions. Here is what you do:

Get yourself:
-some eggplant or huge zucchini (no, those little ones that look like a pickles brother won't work).
-sea salt
-pepper
-2 lbs of mozzarella (you won't use it all but you don't want to run short)
-a couple of jars of your favorite spag sauce (or make your own if you dig your own mix)
-a handful of fresh basil
-fresh parmesean

Slice the eggplant/zucchini into thin (but not razor or paper thin...they have to hold up) wide strips
Paint them with olive oil and dust them with pepper and sea salt
Grill them in a frying pan (a grill pan would be optimal...I don't own one...yet...I used a griddle)
Line the bottom of your casserole dish with your "noodles" (no need to oil the dish......the water in the plants
will keep them from sticking)
By this time, you will have been heating your spag sauce WITH the freshly cut,chopped basil leaves
Spread the spag sauce all over the "noodles"
Throw on a layer of mozzarella
(I did meatless but, if you wanted meat, you probably would have browned it and thrown it into your spag sauce by now)
Put on another layer of those grilled "noodles"
Do the spag sauce again
Do the mozzarella again
Once satisfied with your "layers" , throw some parmesean over the top
Stick it into the oven for about 15 to 20 minutes (it doesn't take long because everything is already hot)

Wait for your friends to come into the kitchen so you can pull out your bubbling masterpiece
Let it cool so it sets.......don't eat too much.......it gets even better as a leftover!!!!

I know...it sounds complicated - but.....shhhhh...I'll let you on to a little secret....promise not to tell?

I AM NOT A COOK

As said...shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh - I don't want to get the word out. You just have to put together a few signature dishes that look and taste impressive. This little baby qualifies. And, by taking out the pasta, you really cut down on that carb factor. This one is a winner!!!!!

One Young Couple + One Very Sick Baby= HELP!

If there was ever a post that I didn't want to write - this one would have to rank up there as the all time winner. This is a sad drama involving my girlfriend's niece and her newly born great-nephew.

Imagine a couple married for a couple three years - he is a young guy in the Navy and she is a young bride away from all of her family. He is working on a boat in harbor in San Diego. He has no threat to be sent to active war but military is military. If you aren't doing the fighting, you are supporting those that do.

It's time to have your baby - the anticipation of your first child. Maddox is born. You are making the adjustments that new parents have to make. At one and a half months, baby acne develops. You make 6 trips back and forth to the doctor to rectify the condition. While irritating and less than optimal, babies get "stuff" as they acclimate to this new world that they have entered. At 4 months, your happy little baby wakes up with a goopy little eye and a slight fever too. While not what anyone wants, it's another normal annoyance your little one has to endure. As a mother, you sense it may be a little bit more than that so you make another trip to the pediatrician. Within a day, you are told.....

That your precious newborn who seems perfectly normal except for a skin condition - will most likely die in the next few months.

He's admitted to the hospital - on the spot. The baby is isolated which you are told is mandatory for his condition. You make a visit to his room. As is normal, a transfer to another room soon becomes in order.

When you arrive at the new room - you find another baby there. "Wait...isn't my baby supposed to be isolated?" you quickly ask.

"Ooops, that was a mistake. We got caught in a shift change" - it's not what you want to hear but you thank God that you were there.

Flash forward a couple of days later - the nurse comes in and says, "by the looks of this chart, this is a 9 month old, 6 pound baby." You say, "no, he is 4 months old and weighs 15 pounds." The nurse reminds you that she is right until you have her look at the child....

"Well....that is what it said in the chart" - and after letting the nurse know that the chart is wrong, you now know that you have to keep the vigil at that hospital bed no matter what the outcome ends up being. You probably would have anyway but with two obvious oversights in the first week, you trust you and you alone.


The baby soon must be transferred to another hospital 2-3 hours away - the father has to keep working. You have to quit your minimum wage job and leave home to stay with the baby.


Every hour you have to leave the room - so you can be rescrubbed and put on new sanitary skivvies just so you can be able to reach out and touch your flesh and blood with your gloved hands.

The baby is happy, googly, and flirting with the staff - like good babies do...but you know that a bone marrow transplant is the only way that this baby has a chance. You aren't even sure what is wrong with the child. Their is a suspicion that it is Omenn's Syndrome. If it isn't that, it's some sort of SCID (Severe Combined Immunio Deficiency).

Please pray for Baby Maddox - and for his mother, Amanda, and her husband Jason. Remember, Amanda isn't working. She has to stay at cheap hotels by the hospital. Right now, she is able to stay at the Ronald McDonald house. While grateful for that, it still has a $14 a night charge. It's $14 that is tough to come by when you weren't exactly living life to the hilt before leaving your minimum wage job.

This ordeal could last for 4....8...12 months - so, besides your prayers, if you can find anything in your pocket to spare it would be deeply and gratefully appreciated. Donations can be made here:

BabyMaddoxFundRaiser


If you want to know more about the story, you can click here:

BabyMaddoxStoryBoard


Trust me - there's no internet scam involved here. Just a young couple in a very dire situation where the best you have to hope for is a successful bone marrow transplant and a bunch of financial strain. While a bit helpless regarding the former, a little from a lot of people can help take care of the latter.

Two Peas in a Pod

(A special post for SundayScribblings)



After 14 years of living in my last house - I finally made a move a bit over a year and a half back. At one time, the old homestead probably had 6, 7, or 8 cats hanging around. I can't really how the collection came to be. They just started showing up. My ex had a bigger heart for the felines than I did.

Well, when the time came for the unmarriage to happen - I ended up being left with all of the children. While it didn't happen immediately, it was time for....

The Cat Eradication Program (CEP) to begin - don't call PITA or the SPCA!!! A few were placed, natural causes, disappearances, etc began to happen along with a vigilance to be on guard for no other cats to be allowed on premises....

Lest they end up getting a name - and, hence, a setback to the CEP! By the time of the move, there were only two mammals making the trek to the new space...

...Yours Truly and Stogie - my stout 8 year old black cat featured prominently in the picture. But....wait.....if there was only one cat, what is that hanging around in the back of the picture????

It's another black cat!!!! - meet Shadow, the little girl kitty that "showed up" not more than a few weeks after moving in. Stogie is a pretty social fellow. The old neighbors actually hated to see him go. Well, he drew this new, young chick in and, well, with the CEP already declared successful and done, this old curmudgeon decided that the two of us boys could stand having a little female accompaniement in our new living space.

Ever since that day - those two black cats have been inseperable. Hence, how she got the name Shadow. As for Stogie and how we derived his nom de plume? Back in my cigar smoking days, I would sit outside and draw on a big fat robusto. Stogie seemed to enjoy jumping up on my lap and savor the aroma of the smoke being blown into his face (OK....maybe you can call the SPCA now for subjecting my cat to second hand smoke...I'll call my attorney and meet them in court).

Stogie and Shadow - two peas in a pod

What Do You Want to Make of This?

So, here I was - taking a walk in lovely one night on a recent business trip to........

New York?

San Francisco?

Los Angeles?

.....no to all of the above. Come on, you knew San Francisco was out. Not much Jesus promoting going on in that town!!! (Pardon my little joke for all you Bible carriers down in the City by the Bay....I know you are trying....just outnumbered).

Actually, I was in Des Moines, Iowa - more specifically, WEST Des Moines, Iowa, which is NOT to be confused with Des Moines, Iowa. Well, you could confuse the two and I don't actually think anyone would care a whole bunch. If you are outside of Des Moines, no one notices and if you are in Des Moines proper or Des Moines West, their probably just happy to have you mention Des Moines for anything.

Anyway, I am out on my walk and I come across this sign - sitting smack dab in front of a mega-church. Right out there in good midwest, strong values America. I didn't really know what to make of it.....and I still don't. There is a part of me that wants to say, "it's all for a good cause...it's just for fun.....lighten up." There is another part of me that remembers Jesus throwing money changers out of the temple and, if there was ever a game that was purely about money, it has to be monopoly.

Then.....you have that whole not taking the Lord's name in vain and we shouldn't blasphemize thing - to contend with as well.

Nope....I still don't know what to think - and I figure, at this point, it really isn't for me to judge one way or the other. I don't even think that I will throw an opinion out at it. It just seems like a further progression of the mainstream church following society rather than society following the mainstream church....

....which may not be a bad thing at all - as neither mainstream society or mainstream church have done much to hold my interest for quite some time.

I still, however, love that Jesus guy!

HappyUPdate

I have been doing a bit of travelling lately - mostly on business. The travel process can be quite draining and stressful...even to some of us with a pretty steady constitution. I have to share the HappyUPs I had jotted down in my journal from last Monday. I had to arise by 3:30 a.m. to catch a flight from Northern to Southern California. It's only an hour's flight but, post 9/11, a simple flight is a rare commodity.

Beat the 3:30 alarm clock - by waking up at 3:15. I am so thankful that I have this talent of being able to tell myself when I want to wake up...and then having it work. I still don't trust it enough to not have the alarm as a backup. I just like waking up on my call rather than the alarm's.

Remembered to think "HappyUP" - as I got out of bed and headed to bathroom. Started the day with gratitude on my mind with no mnemonic tricks needed. This is not the way most of us wake up....and definitely not how I used to. When I do, I notice it and thank God for continuing to work on me.....He knows...I need it.

Found my nice shorts - in the pre-dawn mental haze, I gave up on finding the nice shorts that would be appropriate for the function I was going to. As I was heading out the door, I saw them on the dryer.

Remembered to go back in to store and pay for coffee - in my focus to get to the airport, I self served and brain faded. I walked straight back to my truck. As I was opening the door to my vehicle, I realized I hadn't paid. I went back in and did so. I would have felt like a thief. I also would have had to go out of my way as I came back from my trip to settle up....well, that is if the police weren't waiting for me as I got off the plane coming home to arrest me for caffiene lifting.

No traffic on the way to airport - sure, it was 4:50 a.m. so the odds were good for me. But, have you ever ran into unexpected traffic when you couldn't afford to. Take nothing for granted.

Great parking spot at airport - level 2 in the 6 story garage and right by the elevator

Not stressing in line 1 - because I got to the airport 2 hours before my flight. The guy next to me is sending out a tremendously negative vibe. I am not even talking to him nor is he saying much. I can just feel the heat radiating from him.

I got my bag checked out of turn - to my advantage. One clerk was servicing 4 self check in kiosks for people that had a bag to check. The other people had been in front of me in line. She looked at me. I smiled. It was a smile telling her that I knew she was harried. She checked my stuff first. I giggled to myself, "hey, that was kind of like taking 'cuts' in line without anyone knowing it."

Not stressing in the long line 2 - this is the security line and it was loooooong. Once again, I had arrived way ahead of time. Bad mojo was emanating from all over that que. Not from me. This allowed me to....

Notice the young couple next to me - and we engaged in a nice conversation. I don't always talk to people in line. Both the man and the woman had shaved heads. I didn't ask but I have the feeling that she may have been going through a cancer situation. Yes, I might have been stereotyping but I just had this feeling. If true, he had gone along and shaved his head in support. She looked lovely and I was glad I noticed.

Breezed through the metal detector - no hassle, no wanding, I'm FREEEEEEE!

Got first seat in my line for plane - let's me sneak in 40 minutes of e-mail. An unplanned bonus

Wireless is working great - even with all of the communication around the airport

Brought a great book - to read on the flight

Blood pressure - I just remembered stopping at the blood pressure machine yesterday. It was the lowest it has ever been. While I don't have high blood pressure, it doesn't mean that it couldn't be even better.

Looking forward - to seeing my friends which is why I am flying

The beautiful haze of LA - OK...it's smog but I think it is beautiful because I don't live in it

Anticipating a smooth landing

Having a smooth landing - always tell that pilot, "you layed that one down nicely." Of course, you could just walk by the pilot like you expected the good landing as your only thought is, "where the heck is baggage claim."

My bag is the third one off of the plane - this allows me to slip right out the door (be honest....how often do you sit and go, "why is my bag always the last one off the plane," when, in reality, your bag probably came out in the 50th to 80th percentile of bags off the plane. Not only do we ignore the good and notice the bad....we like to exaggerate the bad)

And the shuttle bus driver sees me - and reopens his doors to let me be the last passenger in just as he was getting ready to pull away

My pen is intact - sometimes, my favorite brand of pens explode on planes.

.....................and on and on it goes - we have so many things that we think are supposed to "just happen" for us every day. The only time we notice them is when they go wrong. It is trite for us to say, "we take things for granted." Yes....we do.

What are YOU going to DO about it? - how about starting to notice...to be present?

It's easy to do - and even easier NOT to do.

1. Just make a mental note of the things that go right
2. Stop on occasion during the day and make a brief journal note
3. Review all of the items in the evening before bed
4. Pick your top 3....write why you thought they happened and what was it about the event that made you happy

Seven days......just give me seven stinking little days - at the same time this week, you will be done with the project.....if you want to be. Here's the hook. After 7 days, you may not write the three things down at night every night but you will be effected by what you start noticing every day.

Music

(A posting for SundayScribblings



When you say music - you are really saying one word....guitars!

There is old lore that says there is only one reason that a young man straps a guitar around his neck - and there is probably a bit of truth to that statement. It doesn't matter what the style of guitar is...the Delta Blues of Lowell Fulson, breakneck speed of Eddie Van Halen, Wild Windmill Strumming while Spread Eagle Jumps of Pete Townshend, country magic of Chet Atkins, classical refrains from Andre Segovia.....talented guitar players are cool! That coolness and what it attracts drives many a young man to adorn himself with those 6 pieces of metal hung over a piece of wood.

My motivation to buy a guitar never fell along those lines - it was about building up the courage to do something that I had been told as a young boy that I had no talent for....to play a musical instrument.

Now, truth be told - I actually don't have much talent in the musical realm. At times, a tinge of guilt washes over me for owning so many guitars but not really knowing how to make any one of them sing. Funny how we can be our own worst critics.

But I quickly quiet that voice - I strum for my own enjoyment. I tell myself that someday I'll get serious about it...then remind myself that I really don't need to be serious about anything as long as I enjoy it.

There are few things like pressing those hard wires - into that fretboard. The pain that came with developing the calluses on the tips that make playing possible. I have heard stories of good players super gluing the calluses that ripped off back on to their fingers. I have never approached that extreme...nor have I played until my fingers bled. Maybe I'm not serious.

I often thought - wouldn't it be nice to have a few friends over and just strum while we all sung...not worrying about being a choir or a vocal group. Just relaxing and enjoying each other's company. Free from anyone judging us. But, no, no one does that anymore. That is for Andy of Mayberry or some young people dreaming to be a folk group.

Then one day, I was asked - to start playing for our house church. I said, "no problem." I was just thinking that I was helping out. After doing it for a few times, it dawned on me, "hey, that little thought...that little thing about sitting around and playing and singing.....does that count as a dream that I had? If it does, cross another dream come true off of my list."

Yes, one day I will get serious about playing that guitar.........or not

It's Zukezilla!!!!

"Hey, did you hear about the zucchini that got too close to the steamroller? - ....squash!!!"

Yes, I will cop to it - that crappy pun came courtesy of my rancid brain. Hey, I had to come up with something to go with the picture.

If you run across a zucchini this big looking like this in a dark alley - run!!! ...or get out your food processor and muffin pans and make some cakes.....a LOT of cakes!!!

Bed

(A Special Post for SundayScribblings)

A bed is the last thing in your life that you need trouble from. You can create all kinds of trouble once you are on or in your bed but the physical item should just do it's job. Squeaks, lumps, and slants are the common troubles that we are aware of. Economic conditions during different times in our lives may force us to tolerate a plethora of maladies that can plague this one specific place where all of us spend the most time in our lives.

Why would anyone want to go out and buy trouble in this area?

What? "Nobody does that," you say.

Call me nobody. I've done it.....twice.

WATERBED

That one word says it all, doesn't it? At this moment, do I even need to even elaborate. Your own stories or ones that you have heard are erupting to the surface like weeds in spring. The least of which but the one that quickly sends you to the couch is when the heater/thermostat malfunctions.....drain, new heater, refill, wait to get warm......your campin' somewhere else for 3-4 days at minimum. Nope, a bed should be something you can count on to deliver!

Temperpedic Adjustable Bed with Remote Control

I went this route recently - it was expensive. Our brains are wonderful things. Our ability to rationalize is a treasure. I wanted this bed so I could more comfortably sit up and read in bed. On many nights, I like to read before putting my head away for the day. You can stack pillows. You can buy wedges. You can do a lot of things to get yourself into a comfortable position. I wanted to do what I do best....nothing. What do we all look to do when we want to do nothing? We look to push a button.

There was no need involved in this decision. This was pure want. I had a chat with the conservative ruler of my treasury (otherwise known as the left hemisphere of my noggin) and said, "hey, you spend 25 to 30% of your life in this place. It should be perfect. Quit being tight jeans!." Thank goodness for me to rationalize just about anything.

...and then the problems started. Faulty connections, faulty remotes, a bad motor..etc.

But that's all behind me now - nothing left but to enjoy the outcome and what I hope becomes years of trouble free slumber.



(PS Hey.....quick thought. Consider buying a split king next time you are in the market. This is how the adjustable bed comes so each partner can set the bed the way they want. It's really the same as putting two large twins right next to each other. If you buy twin top sheets and don't tuck them in down the middle where the two beds meet, you will end any battles that you have over sheet hogging. Tossin and turnin by one partner doesn't upset the other person as well. Yes, you will notice the split down the middle during the times of amour but, trust me, you'll work around that.)

First Harvest 2006

You've been waiting for this all weekend!!! - ever since I mentioned that there was one bell pepper ready for picking. Meet....

Bell!!! - listen, I have to look at enough of your baby pictures. I don't have any legged children so you can suffer through a few of these pics. Bell was the first out of the bunch this year...OK, I picked off a couple of strawbs that were early achievers first...he is my first edible vegetable of the year.

Eat my children - call me a cannibal. It broke my heart but I have already carved into Bell. Funny, he doesn't have that waxy taste that you get from the store. Hmmm....perhaps I'll find a candle and do a little dripping on the other half of him.

More to come - as the Lord continues to make His presence known. Hallelujah!!!

HappyUP!...Coming to a town near you soon!

Yep, were hitching up the HappyUP! wagon - and hittin the trail again. Just two weeks from yesterday.

Saturday, June 24 - the Nutster will be in Dixon, California (that's near you, right?). I am grabbing about 45 minutes of Randy Vice's 4 hour, "How to Have a Better Life," seminar and taking us all back through HappyUp.

In preparation - you'll see some daily postings on HappyUp. You all remember what the concept was:

1. Look for things that make you happy
2. Jot down a quick note through your day as you go
3. Choose your top three at the end of each day
4. Write those down and note WHY you thought they happened and WHAT was it about them that made you happy.

Gang, being happy (or happier...hey, you don't have to be sick to get better) - takes work. If you want to take your game from a 5 to a 7, you have to do something. What? You say that you are at a 10?

Wow!!!! - one question: why did you stop?

HappyUp every day...take 10 minutes to summarize every night - do it for 7 days. C'mon...you have the time. Do it for 7 days....better for 14 but I'll take 7.

It will change your life for the better - guaranteed!

(Hey, help me HappyUp a bit more. Did you notice how my picture was a little blurred? I have a Casio ExLim....do you have any idea how my close ups could be a bit clearer? Don't make me read the owner's manual. I think it came with one...but I'd have to find it.)

A Laid Back Sunday....Something To Think About

I believe that I have run across this little piece of wisdom before - I caught it again over at my friend's blog, Wes Roberts

life is not measured by the
number of breaths we take,
but by the number of moments
that take our breath away.

So, I ask you - what does it take to take your breath away? Is it so complex that it takes a special set of circumstances? Are you so busy chasing the wind that you haven't stopped to notice lately....for a long time....ever? Must you go to the sea or the mountains?

Like acres of diamonds - it sits around you. Go take a look and let me know how you do.

Click It or Ticket? Do I or Don't I?

The entire world has been after me on this one - but I'll give credit to my gym buddy, Gym-buddy, for goading me into bringing the ruling in on this issue. Gym-buddy and I have known each other for 33 years. I'd say that it is 50/50 on our agreement on subjects...

...this one, however, we are in line - here in California, some lawmaker got some job justification by writing this one into the books a couple of years back. The law is this....

Click it or Ticket - that's right. Fasten your seat belt or you are getting pulled over. I have been informed that the second offense is going to knock you back over $150. The interesting thing is all of the mindless people that have jumped on the bandwagon thinking this is a great thing.

I don't see it that way - I am all for keeping the roadways safe. When I fire up the Nutmobile, I want to know that law enforcement is out there making sure that the path to where I need to go is as free of law busters as possible.

At first, most police would not pull you over for this violation - it was more of a "rider to the bill" after they pulled you over for something else. California just went through a major campaign....advertising...marketing....the whole schmeer.

Now, I am no idiot - the gendarmes had to be getting rated during this campaign for how many tickets they wrote. The entire marketing was, "clickit or ticket," so if there is no ticket, there is no campaign. It only makes sense.

I have two problems with this - 1)the taxes that I pay to keep the roadways safe for my drive are being squandered. Sure, I guess the risk of a body flying into my convertible from an accident that just happened next to me was decreased. Quite frankly, I am willing to absorb that risk to keep our peace officers out there ticketing people who run red lights. 2)I am not a civil libertarian but we do have to keep an eye on our rights. If I want to increase the risk of damaging me and me alone, that is my call.

I know...I know - "what about the people that don't have insurance? We have to pay for them." First, in California, everyone is SUPPOSED to have insurance. Second, if we are heading down this slippery slope, when is someone going to start handing out tickets at McDonalds and Cold Stone to people that are killing themselves with what they are ingesting. We don't even have to talk about citations for people smoking. Sorry, this argument doesn't hold water.

People need to be responsible - and make their own decisions and suffer the consequences...particularly when their decision doesn't effect anyone else.

In the meantime - I'll be buckling up. I drive a convertible. I don't want you to be inconvenienced by my body flying into your car if I have a wreck with a guy that ran a red light. You know, the guy that would have been pulled over two streets back if the policeman wouldn't have been busy ticketing a guy that didn't have his seat belt on.

Wild, Crazy Thought....

...drawn from the post that follows this one.


Honestly, vegetable gardening does not take that much time - right now, I am sitting on 24 plants. The initial soil preperation, buying of plants, and planting them probably took me a day if you put all of the time together. Keep in mind, this year, my garden was grass so the soil preparation took longer.

In the last 6 weeks - the only thing that I have done is water. Now, while I water, I do try to pull out a few weeds. Weeds steal the valuable water from your plants which is why you do it. Yes, you can do it for aesthetics but that really isn't what I am into.

In the future - I probably will put in a simple drip system. This will cut down the time...which I am not sure is a good thing. The garden is a wonderous place when you actually are out amongst life beginning to grow. I would be putting the sprinkling system in for some enhanced efficiency....

Hmmmmm...did you see the paragraph above - increased efficiency versus time being spent where I enjoy it. The irrigation system is going to be a little mental debate. I wouldn't want to succumb to just wanting the outcome without putting in the work (which all of a sudden reminds me that is how people can get themselves in credit card trouble). It is the time during the work that I enjoy. It's good quality time.



So, we have established that vegetable gardening isn't that difficult - it takes less water than lawns do. Lawn is a weed. Yes, even the beautiful green patch sitting out in front of your house is a weed. It may be a desirable weed but it is a weed nonetheless.

What if everyone in my neighborhood committed to less lawn - and less "stylistic" ground coverings and devoted more space to vegetables? Hold on...this is going to get mind blowing.

"Nutster...you be the tomatoe guy" - a neighbor might say. "Everyone in the neighborhood will know it. Grow them in your front yard too. Instead of looking at you as eccentric, we'll all be thankful that you donated your front yard to provide for us." What if the entire neighborhood shared what they grew with everyone? ...and shared their knowledge? ..and helped in each other's garden? The elderly lady may not be able to garden anymore....but she has an overgrown yard in the back that she can't afford to maintain. She would get some of the vegetables too!

We would probably all have to get to know our neighbors a bit better - imagine that. No, we could never do that. We like to complain about them too much. We like to pine about how places where more like community back in the good ol days. Perhaps they were more communal because we communicated more. Now, we pop the garage door opener and don't have the opportunity to run into someone as we go into our homes from the front door.

The above paragraph takes me down another rabbit trail - when you think of the word "commune", you think "weird"..."not something I want to be a part of", don't you? Yet, the root is the same as communication and community. These are things that many of us feel might cause our lives to be improved if we had a bit more of them in our lives.

Vegetable gardening - could create community in a neighborhood. It would use less water. The water that was used would be for sustenance rather than looks. It would probably be a bit more organic....any of us could use a little less cancer in our lives. One has to think that all of the chemicals that go into our food have to play a bit of a role in the higher level of disease that we have in the west. We might actually "live off the land" and eat the fruits and vegetables that we should.

I could go on and on - but, let's face it. We don't want to make any of the changes that this would entail, would we? We would rather isolate or busy ourselves with meaningless things that truly are "chasing the wind" as Solomon said in Ecclesiastes.

Still, it was a lovely thought to park on - for a few moments on this gorgeous June morning in Roseville (near Sacramento), California.

The Greatest Mystery of All

(A special post for SundayScribblings

It's a mystery to me - that on April 30th, my backyard looked like this. Well, an even bigger mystery was how I got my dad's old rototiller started to till up all of the old grass and even get it to this point. Add to that, I found the motivation to run a rototiller for the first time....and then rake out all of the clods and roots and debris. Where did that come from? But, beyond my total lack of knowledge about soil preperation and overcoming my laziness, on April 30th, this is where we were with the small patch of grass out behind the tool shed.

Let's now flash forward just 6 weeks or so to this morning



Yes "that" has become "this" - and I am not being self-deprecating about my lack of skill or knowledge. I, honestly, know absolutely nothing about gardening. I have never really done it before. I haven't read much. I didn't go down to Home Depot and take a class. I played around with a tiny patch last year and got some nice tomatoes out of the deal. Let's face it. Tomatoes are a weed. I think anyone reading this blog feels fairly confident that you could grow a weed.

Yet, here I am - just a few short week's from enjoying the mystery of how we can be provided with sustenance......and so grateful that this mystery exists. Nature's bounty.

Tomatoes - cherry, early girls, and beef steaks...6 plants in all. Way more than I will need. Every plant has reached the stage of bearing fruit. This is good. I have been told that sometimes you get nice plants but no fruit.

Bell Pepper - one fully developed bell pepper is showing. I know there will be more but, right now, there is only one and it is almost ready to eat. That's a mystery. It is almost as if His Divinity is saying, "here is one for you to eat today...see the little bud? You can eat that one later."

Cucumbers - the leaves are so big that you have to peel them back so you can peek inside and see the little babies that the plant is keeping shaded. It is almost like she keeps them in her secret pouch and is sheilding them from the elements.

Squash - HUGEMONGOUS plants with several fully formed and preparing themselves for my dinner table.

Watermelon - I don't see anything yet but a creepy crawly vine spreading it's tentacles about the garden. Will it bear a watermelon?....several of them? Who will I give the watermelons to because I don't really eat watermelon? Maybe I will eat watermelon this year...and lots of it. All mysteries.

Strawberries, basil, pepperoncini, jalapeno's, the "wonder pepper" (yes, that is what it was called when I bought it...so that's a mystery in itself)...all doing well.

Then we have the old growth around the yard - the orange tree, the lemon tree, the fig tree, and the grape vines. I just pruned back a lot of grapes to allow the grapes I left to have more sustenance so they will be bigger. Someone gave me this tip. If this makes them bigger, perhaps the seeds won't be so bothersome.

One gardening uneducated man.....one small suburban lot - sitting on so much abundance that he'll have nothing to do but share with his neighbors.

This is a story about the greatest mystery of all - God. He truly is a wonderful Father. This is a wonderful metaphor to show that He provides for His children much more than they need, without that much attention, and despite their actions.

I think it is time for me to sign off - and spend some time with Our Father to thank him for being so good to us all in so many ways.

Would I like to unlock the mysteries of God? - I only think that doing so would diminish Him. I think I'll be content with leaving things as is and enjoy His great mystery.

Confesssion of a Book Freak

OK...there you have it - I went out and said it. I'm a book freak!

It's a problem - I am in the midst of a terminal remodeling project. I moved into the old house about 1.5 years ago. I never have really gotten settled as there has been some much overthought of rehabbing to do.

The day has finally approached - to hit the living room and turn it into a real room. Might paint the floor...if I don't like it, I'll just glue a laminate over the old, worn wood floors like everyone else does these days (man, I hope the painting thing works...I'm not down with the thought of being like everyone else)

And I have to address "the issue" - how did I get so many books? Many read with a commitment to re-read. Others started. Others waiting. I'm sure more will get through the front door within the next two weeks.

But some have to go - but which ones. "I really might read this one again." "This one doesn't seem as interesting as when I bought it but, I started it so I should finish it."

Almost none jump out and scream - "this one has to go!!!" It is almost like they are children. That's just sick. For goodness sakes, they are just a bunch of paper bound together.

Decisions....decisions...decisions - I'll get back to you on which ones left. I think it may tell me something. But, once I decide for them to go....

Where will they go? - aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Earliest Memory - A Long Walk

(a special post for SundayScribblings

A young boy. His two older brothers gone to school. Living in the country. His mother staying at home from work a little longer than originally planned to take care of "the little afterthought." A long way to the grocery store. I've gone back in adult life. While the original road is gone, I have it estimated at 4.5 miles. The mother loads him into his wagon. There is no second car. She pulls him along the long road. There are no sidewalks. She gets her groceries. She puts them in the wagon. They turn around and head back. The wagon full of groceries and a 4 year old boy trailing along.

I wonder if making a 4 year old walk 4 miles would be called child abuse today. I call it doing what you have to do.....and those things are usually good for you.

BEAR ...My First Love

(a post for SundayScribblings)



My older brothers wouldn't have anything to do with you when my dad and I brought you home on that rainy, Sunday morning. They just ignored us and kept playing their board game that I was too young to understand and play with them. I didn't care because I had you. I was only 5 years old. I think my brothers made fun of the way you waddled around so we called you Bear because you walked like one. I didn't understand how you could grow so much faster than me. You were just a little puppy. Before I knew it, you were big enough to give me rides on your back. Well, mom always told me to get off you whenever I would try. It didn't matter because I knew that you could give me a ride anytime we wanted. You could do anything. You were my first dog and my best friend.

We lived out in the country. Friends lived at a distance. One didn't have the luxury of picking your friends based on whether or not you liked them. It was more about proximity. You were always there wandering in the olive grove with me as we chased the mythical characters that hid in the branches...ready for the next adventure.

You would walk with me down to the bus stop every day whether it was sunny or raining. You would stay there until the bus left. I wonder now how you felt or if you felt when you ran alongside the bus until it pulled away...leaving you behind. When the bus came back, there you were...waiting.

"Did you miss me, boy? I know you did. I missed you too."

Sometimes I wondered if you ever even left that spot in the morning because you were always in that same place when those bus doors opened and let me off in the afternoon.

You loved me too. I wasn't the biggest of kids. If any of my friends ever tried to pick on me, you raised your voice and let them know that behavior was not going to be allowed when you were around.

When I turned 13, we moved into town. The fields that you once roamed became a small yard. I started high school. I had new friends...and better things to do. Like little Jackie Paper in Puff the Magic Dragon, I outgrew you. There were no more imaginary villains to slay for you and I.

My brother built a house back out in the country a few years later where you and I grew up. He took you with him. You got to go back home to our fields to live out your days.

You were a good dog. You were a boys best friend. My first love. And the happiest of memories.

WOW!!! Did You See that Last Blog Entry??!!??

(perhaps it would be better referred to as a "log" entry)

It can never be said that, here at Nutter's Notes, we're not afraid to take on the tough, important topics!!!!

Can We Talk?

It seems rather interesting to me - that, in the span of my lifetime, social morays have dropped to the point that everybody is talking about anything as if it isn't that big a deal anymore. If it isn't talked about, it is in print. Sex, sexual preference, masturbation, etc....the list goes on and on regarding people chatting about the once taboo subjects.

I'll leave it to you - on whether that is good or bad. I'll stick with my ol friend Bill Shakespeare who said, "there are no goods or bads, thinking makes it so," or something to that effect.

So, with all this new found freedom - there is one topic that just hasn't made it over the hump in being talked about openly and freely. Yet, unlike some of the topics that I mentioned above, it is something that we are all involved in on a regular basis.

Well, at least we hope it is a regular basis - and this leads me right into today's topic. You see, I have this....uh...hmmm....oh, I know...I have "this friend" who has been a little behind in, how do I say this, "putting things behind him"...if you get my drift. As a matter of fact, he had gone 3 days without being able to tend to this fairly regular piece of business.

"My friend" was getting a bit concerned - while he had been able to conjure up a little bit of business, the weight/volume of the output of his efforts were not commensurate with what he would normally produce.

"My friend", not a tremendous worrier by nature, starts to become a bit concerned - because he knows that there are a lot of things that this lack of production could be a symptom of and many of them are rather dire. He starts having flashbacks to his late ex-mother-in-law who failed to produce anything but "hot air" as she was suffering cancer. He definitely doesn't want that. He thinks about blockages and what the process might be to eliminate those. That's not a comfortable thought either.

Yes, he is a bit worried - as he finishes out day 3. At least, he believes it was day 3. He can't really remember if he "did anything" back 4 days ago. I mean, it's not something that you jot down in your journal...unless you happen to be having a problem in which case this may be a handy reference to have.

He knows that you have to sit down and accomplish this task once a day - right?

Wrong!!!!

My friend went to two different medical sites - and, low and behold, he found out that "once a day" is not something that should happen. Some people "do the work" three times a day, some once a day, some 3 times a week. He also finds out that, until your pattern has definitely been shifted, he really shouldn't be concerned about it actually being a problem until three weeks of pattern shift has been noticed.

"Three weeks!!! Do you have any idea of what the storage of those toxins could do?" - as it turns out, there is no medical evidence of that toxicity existing. Now, the operative term there is "medical evidence." Do you want to trust doctors? Do you want to trust new age people? Do you want to do a bit of research and "to thine ownself be true?"

For me...uh...I mean for "my friend" - he has learned that no one knows his body like himself. He consults with physicians. He reads. He listens to others. He tries to apply common sense to how he is feeling.

He is also very interested in how this myth - of "once a day" is normal started. "Hmmmm...", he ponders, "if I was a company that made something like Ex-Lax or Metamucil or any other laxative, what would be the harm in me promoting this little piece of wellness 'fact'. Hey, even if I am stretching it, what could be the harm?"

Well, the harm is - that many people are on laxatives or use enemas much more frequently than they should. Perhaps this goes right along with the people that are on anti-depressants who have never been taught that happiness is something that you have to work at and cultivate. It doesn't just drop into your lap...

Oh, speaking of dropping - excuse me. I have to go now. Really!

(Seriously, if this topic is of interest/concern, you know what to do. Google search- Constipation....I didn't need to tell you that, did I?)

Three Wishes

(A post for SundayScribblings)

What would you do if you had three wishes?

Have you ever stopped to think about why the whole concept of three wishes has been around for so long? Do you wonder who came up with the original idea? We have the idea of finding the Magic Lamp and rubbing it. We all keep an eye out at the beach for the bottle that has washed up on the shore waiting to be uncorked. I Dream of Genie still runs in syndication (OK....Barbara Eden was hot so maybe that is why that show endured).

Perhaps three wishes is what starts you on your path to what would make life better. As I look back over the different times of my life, I can't remember what my wishes have ever been. This would lead me to believe that I either didn't play the three wishes game or the wishes didn't seem to have enough meaning that they were worth remembering.

But there is no doubt how I would answer the question now. Or that it will ever change again.

I have been well cared for on this trip on the orb. I don't really know if I was born into poverty but our family wasn't that far from it. Yet, once the surprise of my arrival and early responsibilities of caring for me passed, my mom re-entered the work force to address our socio-economic situation. It wasn't long between that time and having the great fortune of a train blowing up our house that my parents had established themselves solidly as part of the middle class. While I can't say that it would have been something that I would have wished for, a train blowing up your house is so improbable that it seems like the only way that it could happen is through an act of divinity. That incident was a major turning point in my life and I often comment that it was one of the best things that ever happened to me. No, it's not the only piece of good fortune. It's far from it. My record with good fortune is pretty solid.

And it leads me to a simple request.

Yes, ONE simple request.

I have been so well taken care of that, if I can be granted my wish, you can have the other two and use them yourself or give them to someone that needs them more than me.

Give me one day back with my mom. Just give me one day. Let me wrap my arms around her tiny little frame. Squeeze her until it hurts and give her a big kiss. Let me tell her all of the things that I have discovered about her since she was taken away so quickly and unexpectedly 4 years ago. Let me tell her how much I appreciate the sacrifices that she made. Let me tell her how it has only been since her passing that I have unearthed her secrets and how she overcame what so many people today use as excuses. Let me tell her that she has held it in long enough. It's time to have a good cry. And, while she and I were having that first cry, let me tell her, "you done good! You have done so good." And, after we cried a puddle of tears, and when she wanted to cut it short so she could go grab the mop to clean them up, let me tell her, "leave the mess alone. It will still be there tomorrow. I'll take care of it then. Today, we bask in the joy of you overcoming what you overcame to raise three boys and not allow what happened to you as a child ever happen to any of us. Mom, we only have one day. Let's not waste a moment on something as trivial as wiping up the floor. I have things to tell you....like how much I love you. I know, mom, you aren't used to hearing it. None of us are used to saying it."

Yes, give me one day like that and take my other two wishes. Send me a note and tell me what you did with the surplus yearnings that I passed along. I'll make sure that I tell your story along to my mom. After all, they weren't my wishes to give. My mom gave me everything that I needed so it was she that was responsible for my generosity. You have my address. I think she would enjoy hearing what her sacrifice did for you.

Cool of the Morning, Rush of the Day

I used to wonder - about the neighbor across the street. He became disabled to work for as long as I can remember. I always picture him out hand watering the pesky little strip between the sidewalk and the street. He had his coffee in one hand, hose in the other.

I have been finding myself doing the same thing recently - last summer was my first one as the owner of my parent's former house. I didn't do a very good job with keeping that persnickety little patch that fronts the street green last year.

You hate to run a hose across and use a sprinkler - there are safety issues with pedestrians. There are wasted water issues because the strip is so narrow. The choice is pretty much to handwater. Of course, one could put the time and energy into tunneling under the concrete and installing an automatic system. In the long haul, this is probably the best solution.....

Or is it? - I have been getting up at 4 a.m. lately. I know....I can hear you, "What? When is 4 a.m.? I could never do that!!!" I used to say the same thing. I go to the gym. I come home. I have a bit of time before I start my oh so busy day.

...and I find myself out running the cold water - across the thirsty grass. The morning's coolness will soon give way to an unseasonably warm 95 degree day in May. The combination of the mist, the grass exhaling a sigh of relief, the quiet of the morning, and a few moments of "there is nothing more important for me to be doing than this" make for a wonderful beginning of my day. I don't get this feeling at the other side of the day...the night.

So, it seems that the solution is to compress the time - between the end of work and going to bed and expand the time between getting up and going to work. Go to bed earlier and get up earlier. This is what I have done.

Ah...the quiet of the morning - but, pardon me, I just noticed that it is now 6:15 a.m. I have a meeting to rush off to.

The Books I Would Write

(an entry for SundayScribblings)


The cliche's abound when it comes to writing a book - "do you have dreams of writing the Great American Novel?"..."everyone has one great book in them before they die." In this week's scribblings, I want to make it very clear that there is no book on this list that I am GOING to write. No commitments. I take commitments very seriously.

Perhaps a book on commitments and goals would be on my list - for this scribe, I have failed to set my sails many times from the safety of the dock because I didn't have a clear vision of where I wanted to end up. And, because I know the work and toil involved in getting to any worthwhile destination, just "pulling a vision/goal out of thin air because I should" is just not going to get the job done.

Yet, if you don't leave the harbor - the view never changes. There are some people in this world that have a clear picture of where they want to go. I neither disparage or envy them. I have seen these people go through the hardships and adventures to get to where they wanted only to say, "OK, now what?...now where do we go?" Pursuing goals so steadfastedly and with such vision can leave one myopically looking at the horizon and never seeing what is around them.

Now, the opposite problem can confront the wanderer - he leaves the port, just to "sail around a bit" and see what he sees. If there is something of interest, he may change the set of his sails and see what is happening "over there." The danger in this approach is that one can be distracted and led into places that waste time and invite danger unnecessarily.

The plus's of the two approaches - our goal setting friend gains accomplishment. Our wandering friend gathers feeling and perspective. Let's take a look at...

Our friend who stays in the harbor - he is often maligned. "I don't care what you do...just do something!!!" It's an easy critique to lop upon our pier bound mate. But, what if this captain isn't a worthy sailor....at all?

HappyUP-date

(for those new to Nutter's Notes, go to March archive and page through my 7 day HappyUp excercise if the following makes no sense to you)

Ever since I did those seven days of looking for things to be happy about - it's like potato chips! I can't stop. OK...that's a bit of a stretch. But, I do keep coming back to looking for those items...as they occur.

It's crazy!!!- I'll stop at different times of the day and just make a little note in my journal "5/8 HU! (shorthand for HappyUP!)...30 minutes at gym went well...raked dirt in garden and noticed the smell...my printer kicked out the reports I needed when I was in a rush....I had a nice interaction with Mel...I had some banana cream pie left in the fridge (and ate some for breakfast)....gorgeous drive to work with the top down...had a meeting that went well....stopped by house at lunch and there was some banana cream pie left....

It's just the little things - that pass us by everyday and we miss them. Why?

Because we think they are supposed to happen - cerebrally, we know that bad stuff is going to happen or not everything is going to go our way. Deep down, though, I am not so sure that we are sold on this fact. Deep down, we think everything is supposed to just flow along....

And, when it doesn't - man, do we notice!!! In fact, some of us are VERY observant. We are so observant that we can't wait to tell others about it.

I read a great line last night - "as you walk down your path, a bird is going to poop on you (OK...the book didn't say "poop". It said the other word so use that one if you like it better). A bird is going to poop on you. Don't wipe it off. Laugh."

That was about as great a description of HappyUP!!! - as I could imagine.

All of the things that I mentioned above happened before lunch this morning - and there were a ton that I am sure that I missed. Like tonight, "HU! 5/8 pm....there was still banana cream pie left ---- so I ate it!"

Remember: jot down "contenders" for your three HappyUP!!! ideas- as you go about your day. At the end of the day, pick your best three. Then write why they happened and why they made you happy. 7 days...that's all you need to do it for...but you have to do it. Yes, I am sorry. Work is involved.

Here's the newsflash - it takes WORK to increase your HQ (Happiness Quotient). Much like you don't have to be sick to get better, you don't have to be sad to get happier.

Memories of Christmas Poor Behavior

(A Special Post for SundayScribblings)

Christmas. 1996. My first Christmas alone after the seperation 6 months prior. I had been married for almost 8 years. After 4 months of isolation, I started dating again. Dating is a strange thing on it's own. It's especially strange when you didn't think that you would be doing it again.

I met a younger gal. She had long, blonde hair with curls cascading down to the middle of her back. It was the kind of hair that send other women to the coifferies. Once seen, this hair makes them feel inadequate about their own. She worked out every day. It was an obsession. Some cardio. Mostly weights. She was nice. Simple. She didn't have much. I knew the leather coat that I bought her for Christmas would mean the world to her.

It was a gift that would never be received.

She got upset over a fairly trivial matter. The incident demonstrated that she had the inability to trust me. If you want to hang with this guy, trust is part of the deal...both ways.

I went back to the leather shop with the wrapped box. There were no tear stains on the adorned package. We hadn't dated that long. It was nothing more but a store credit now. What do you buy in a leather store when you already own a leather jacket? Leather isn't my choice when I look for a hat. I wandered over to the shoe section.

"My Docs" called out my name. I had always wanted a pair. I don't know why. I'm not a biker and don't have a desire to look like one. They were kind of ugly. They had fallen out of trendiness long before. Little did I know that they would gain popularity again. Almost 10 years later, I am still wearing them. They are the first shoes that I have owned that really seem like friends. I finally changed the laces not too long ago. The new laces don't seem right. They are the stiff kind. They aren't the official Doc Marten cloth laces. The old laces laid down with the floppiness of a beagle's ear. The new laces stick out. Just like my ears used to before I grew into them.

I have many stories about My Docs. None take the place of their biggest story of all. It's the story of their acquisition. A budding romance that failed. Without her display of poor behavior, My Docs wouldn't have ever walked into my life.

I may have lost the girl....but I got the boots. She lost a jacket. I gained a pair of faithful friends.

Happy Gringo de Mayo

Yes, it is that time of the year again - and I absolutley love the genius of today's marketing machine. Watching good mind control is like listening to a fine symphony to me.

I have all the respect in the world - for our Mexican friends as they choose to celebrate this important day for their culture.

It's the gringo "sheep" that cause hilarity - we know that as they hit the "happy hours" tonight they are going to have no respect for the holiday itself. Of course, a lot of Christmas presents get tossed around at the end of December without anyone knowing why but we'll visit that....again...in December. (SIDENOTE:the fact that we have been sold the concept that ingesting a liquid depressant is "happy hour" is another cause of great entertainment to me...we'll believe anything. We're obedient sheep to the marketing gods)

Cinco de Mayo fascinates me - because this is a "late on the scene" holiday for the North American culture. We certainly didn't celebrate it 25 years ago. Hmmmmm....it makes me wonder....

How did it become this fairly big thing? - and I do call it a big thing. How do I make the distinction? I have done a small random sampling over the years. I have come to the conclusion that when people who are not of the Mexican heritage start going, "what are you doing for Cinco de Mayo?" or generally feel that they are missing out if they are not out celebrating, it's become a significant thing.

How does that happen? - is it because of all of the immigration that we have seen over the years. Or, could it be that marketers know that when they can plant the concept of a holiday into the sheep's....uh....I mean, people's mind, they spend more money!!!

And, as far as I can see - the money spent on this one is pretty much purely on tequila. OK...Chevy's, that fine "Mexican" restaraunt will do a booming business too. But I think you get my point.

It would be fascinating to see Jose Cuervo's April marketing expenditures for the last 30 years, wouldn't it?- I bet that trend line has gone up and up and up.


Now...here is a million dollar idea that I am giving away for free - why? Just because you are a faithful blog reader. And...I like you. All you have to do is find....

A great Russian holiday - see, we have had a lot of immigration from Russia over the last 20 years. That population is due for a day they can call their own here on U.S. turf. You find the holiday and go pitch it to Stoli or Smirnoff. Rather than a tequila holiday or green beer on St Paddy's, you now have a vodka holiday. Americans will flock to it!!! You run with the idea...remember where you got it...and, as you sit in your mansion, just remember poor little me and shoot me "a lil something for the effort."

Hey, I'm not knocking anything - just making an observation. Excercise your lack of independence and follow the instruction of the marketing lords that people turn their brains over to. Have a great time tonight!!!

But please - no tragedies. Designate a driver and/or have a friend that you can call should things go over the line.

Buenos dias

The BarberShop (or, "I've become my dad" - Part 2)

This post may be a bit long - but it will be worth it.

I did a mental health day today - and took the day off. One of the stops that I made was to Lincoln City Barber Shop

"You go to a barber shop!?! A hip dude like you" - I know...surprising, isn't it? It was about a year ago. I had a convention to go to. It was a Saturday. "My stylist" (say that as you raise the pitch of your voice and elevate your nose slightly) couldn't get me in and I was looking shaggy. (SIDENOTE: guys always refer to the person that cuts their hair as either "their stylist" or "the chick that cuts my hair". Guys can't call that person their hairdresser or their beautician. It's a guy thing...don't ask me why).

So what am I supposed to do? - I mean, I am desperate because I have to look clean for this convention....and then, out of nowhere, there it is. Right in front of me. The solution? The place my Dad goes to get his haircut...the Barbershop. I think, "I can't do that, right?" I then answer myself, "dude, you don't have much choice. How bad can it be?"

Then, I remember the last time I went to a barbershop - and I remembered how bad it could be. It was high school. Me and my friend Cliff went. When we came out, we were both wishing that the barber had used bowls on our heads. You know that haircut, "you want a Mo...or do you want a Mo." We got ridiculed beyond belief. And that was the last of that...

Funny how those old memories come up - I hadn't thought about that in years. Yet they dredge up out of nowhere. Despite this, I bravely pull into the barbershop.

I take a seat - because that's what you do in a barbershop. The barber is finishing up with one customer and there is one in front of me. Ah yes....the wait. I remember it well. For some reason, the barbershop is one place where it's OK to wait. It's almost expected. Plus, if you are so bold, you can immediately join any conversation and it's like you are one of the regulars. The barbershop is a different kind of place. As I waited....

Panic started to strike me - "what if she screws this up? I'll be scarred for life!" I almost got up and left. I had to stop myself and think, "where the heck did that come from? Dude, it's only hair. It grows back. For goodness sakes, you can shave it off like you did a couple of years ago if you wanted to." Vanity had struck and was overcome!!!

I got the haircut - I went to the office. For the first time in many haircuts...oh, I am sorry...for the first time in many stylings, people came up and went, "hey, you're hair looks great!!!" Not only that....it keeps looking good between cuts...and I do let some time go between cuts.

While I don't go to that same barbershop (it closed) - I found a new one. It's a bit out of my way but the barbers are Chip and Al. Those are good names for barbers. Harry the Haircutter was the previous proprietor. Harry is a good name for a barber too. Perhaps, the best....and he was good. He'd cut hair all over the world for 50 years. You have to have a good rap to be a barber. And stroke your clients as you pet their hair. Harry was a pro. Unfortunately, Harry's health didn't hold up so he turned the shop over to Al.

So, what used to cost $30 plus a tip - now costs me $15 which I give Al or Chip a twenty for. They always try to give me change. They don't expect a tip. I like that too. So, how did the boys at Lincoln City Barbershop do today? Let's take a look:




"Scott, you look hot either way!!!" - oh, stop that. I hear that from everyone. While I know it's true, one thing that precedes my good looks is my humility. Yep...me and the barbershop are dialed in for the rest of this trip on the orb.

Plus - how can you do anything but love that barber pole? Americana...Floyd the barber. It's a good thing.

Beyond Imagination?

OK, all of my good Bible reading friends - and even those that aren't. Written in that book is a description of heaven. It says that it is beyond anything that we can imagine.

Did you get that? - BEEEEEEYOND anything we can imagine

Let's try it one more time - like, out there. So far out there that you can't even imagine it.

Even better than this!!!! (see above)

Unimaginable!!! - and worth consideration