Wednesday, September 12, 2012
BRUTES
The recent murder in Bengazi of our ambassador to Libya and the storming of the American embassy in Cairo should serve as a signal to the unwisdom of helping the underdogs in Arab lands. Instead of being grateful for our assistance in 'liberating" them from the terrors of Gadaffi they turn around and murder our representatives to the sun beaten sandy waste they call their country.
In truth, these savages need the discipline of a murderer and torturer and deserve no better. Take the lid off and they run wild, true to form, for very little provocation. In the future we'll have to accept a certain number of nasties at the top of the garbage pile in order to keep the stench down.
Let this be a warning to our leaders in case they have any plans - however preliminary - to intervene in the Syrian civil war. We have no friends that we can distinguish there and the best policy is to let them all fight their own battles. Whoever emerges will be no friend of the United States and in the meantime they are too busy fighting each other to cause too much trouble to us.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Waves again!
Today I got my wave. I am not sure if it was because of the previous post about it, or it being the first day of school, or the fact that Boo was sitting in the very last row of the bus, and no one else could see, or that she was starting in a new school, but I did get one from her.
I went outside to wait for the bus, as it is the first day of busing, and this is routinely a lousy day for punctuality. however, as the driver was the one who drove Ace for years, she knows the route and the (returning) girls, so she was both on-time and cognizant of the stop. the bus appeared pretty full, so Boo had to go all the way to the back, and as i was standing on the side where she sat, she looked out, saw we, and gave a little wave.
My day was made.
I went outside to wait for the bus, as it is the first day of busing, and this is routinely a lousy day for punctuality. however, as the driver was the one who drove Ace for years, she knows the route and the (returning) girls, so she was both on-time and cognizant of the stop. the bus appeared pretty full, so Boo had to go all the way to the back, and as i was standing on the side where she sat, she looked out, saw we, and gave a little wave.
My day was made.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
"Save Me"
Ace took off to study for a while. Leaves just Boo home with the old folks. One of us was going on about how we need to make certain changes to have the house liven up a bit. Its been an ongoing conversation in anticipation of the quieter house.
Boo turned to me with a look of horror, indicating all the fears she has of spending the next year or so with just the two old folks, alone, and said.
Save Me.
Boo turned to me with a look of horror, indicating all the fears she has of spending the next year or so with just the two old folks, alone, and said.
Save Me.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Home of the Brave
The recent incident involving a US embassy automobile that was attacked on a Mexican road possibly by members of the Mexican government's own law enforcement community, is a sad chapter in the decline of American prestige around the world.
Upon closer inspection of the scene photo, it turns out that the SUV is a Toyota. This may explain the brazen attack. How can the US expect anyone to respect its global power and prestige when its most important agency and cabinet department has so given up on America that they parade around their presence in a product made in a foreign country by a foreign company.. It's akin to showing the flag, but of another country (the rising sun in this case). Why don't they drive a product designed and manufactured in the United States since before Japan was even able to produce an automobile. I bet the mexicans would never have had the nerve to shoot at a Cadillac.
Driving on the highways of America, I feel like a foreigner in my own country. For every american car that passes me or that I pass, there are six to ten foreign cars. If individual americans don't see enough value in american made cars, at least our government should.
It's time we showed our own flag.
Upon closer inspection of the scene photo, it turns out that the SUV is a Toyota. This may explain the brazen attack. How can the US expect anyone to respect its global power and prestige when its most important agency and cabinet department has so given up on America that they parade around their presence in a product made in a foreign country by a foreign company.. It's akin to showing the flag, but of another country (the rising sun in this case). Why don't they drive a product designed and manufactured in the United States since before Japan was even able to produce an automobile. I bet the mexicans would never have had the nerve to shoot at a Cadillac.
Driving on the highways of America, I feel like a foreigner in my own country. For every american car that passes me or that I pass, there are six to ten foreign cars. If individual americans don't see enough value in american made cars, at least our government should.
It's time we showed our own flag.
Friday, August 10, 2012
IS IT ANY WONDER....
I just read an interesting article about vacations and leisure time here and in other countries. Click to read article.
The most interesting thing I found was the attitude of the French as opposed to that of the Japanese when it came to taking vacation. The French took all the vacation time given them ( I'm surprised they didn't take more) whereas the Japanese took less than half of their allotted vacation time.
The days' business news are filled with dire reports of many European nations living well beyond their means and consequently in economic trouble. They refuse any attempt at real austerity and wonder why they don't have jobs for their people. I don't wonder at it at all. I couldn't help laughing when I read:
The most interesting thing I found was the attitude of the French as opposed to that of the Japanese when it came to taking vacation. The French took all the vacation time given them ( I'm surprised they didn't take more) whereas the Japanese took less than half of their allotted vacation time.
The days' business news are filled with dire reports of many European nations living well beyond their means and consequently in economic trouble. They refuse any attempt at real austerity and wonder why they don't have jobs for their people. I don't wonder at it at all. I couldn't help laughing when I read:
Laziness has reached a new standard."In June the European Court of Justice ruled that workers in the 27 nations of the European Union who get sick on vacation are entitled to take another vacation."
Monday, August 6, 2012
Walmart, Store of the Masses
As many of you who know me already know, Walmart is one of my favorite places to be. In fact, I very often go just to get my fix from the place. I have always given examples of all the different things you can buy there, but yesterday I actually saw it in practice. I was on line behind a gentleman who was purchasing 20 tins of cat food, aluminum foil, .22 caliber bullets, and a bottle of bleach. Having struck up a conversation with him , I don't believe he was hunting cats, and luring them in with tasty cat morsels.
Just an every day run to the store that has everything you could want or need.
Just an every day run to the store that has everything you could want or need.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
More on Mayor Moron
Much as I hate to admit it, Mayor Moron, as Dr. G. likes to call him, has hit it just right this time. I refer to his campaign, ever since the Aurora, Colorado movie massacre, to get our politicians to at least acknowledge the need for something to be done about these mass shootings.
On the one side, we have the NRA and their fellow travelers who are opposed to any restrictions whatsoever on any type of firearm. On the diametrically opposite side, we have the gun control freaks who would disarm everyone, including the army and police on the basis that arms sales are immoral.
Certainly there is room between these two entrenched positions for some debate, compromise and more reasonable positions on this important issue.
Clearly, in a free society, there exists the need for the public to protect themselves against those with inimical intentions towards them as well as for society to protect itself from a government bent on imposing dictatorship on its people. We can't let the government have all the guns. But it should be obvious to anyone with even half a brain in his head that an ordinary private citizen bent on minding his own business has no need for an assault weapon. He may have need of a few long guns for hunting, or a handgun for property and personal protection. Certainly no private citizen needs to amass an arsenal of guns and ammunition, which we find time and again to be the state of those who subsequently perpetrate the massacres of which we have become all too familiar.
It is not unreasonable to require some regulation of firearms, such as restrictions on the types available to the public and a restriction as to the total number of firearms that any individual can own. We regulate drugs, which harms the owner more than anyone else so why not firearms whose main victims are other than their owners.
Unlike his usual dictatorial methods, Mayor Moron is not trying to push an unpopular regulation through the city council. He is demanding, through his powers of persuasion, his access to media attention, and spending of his political capital, that those people currently engaged in taking positions on political issues take a position on this one. The amazing thing is that no one is listening. In fact, Bloomberg has been criticized for harping on this subject. I heard one comment to the effect that, every time we get one of these mass shootings people call for gun control. Implying, I suppose, that the whole issue will blow over and there is no point in talking about it.
It's been a few weeks since the shooting and already it seems to have blown by us. There is new news, and the media can't milk this story much longer. But the damage is done. The mourners have buried their dead, some survivors will emerge from the incident a shadow of their former selves; unable to walk or use both hands or think clearly, and others, while not physically maimed carry about in their brains and psyches, long term wounds and scars.
There is an incredible, dogged, lack of reason among proponents of unlimited and unrestricted gun use in the United States. Their arguments border on the ludicrous, but they are winning. Just witness the repeal of Virginia's one-gun-per-month law and similar repeals in other states that once did have these laws on the books.
Mayor Moron, I salute you. I only hope you won't give up on your latest campaign.
On the one side, we have the NRA and their fellow travelers who are opposed to any restrictions whatsoever on any type of firearm. On the diametrically opposite side, we have the gun control freaks who would disarm everyone, including the army and police on the basis that arms sales are immoral.
Certainly there is room between these two entrenched positions for some debate, compromise and more reasonable positions on this important issue.
Clearly, in a free society, there exists the need for the public to protect themselves against those with inimical intentions towards them as well as for society to protect itself from a government bent on imposing dictatorship on its people. We can't let the government have all the guns. But it should be obvious to anyone with even half a brain in his head that an ordinary private citizen bent on minding his own business has no need for an assault weapon. He may have need of a few long guns for hunting, or a handgun for property and personal protection. Certainly no private citizen needs to amass an arsenal of guns and ammunition, which we find time and again to be the state of those who subsequently perpetrate the massacres of which we have become all too familiar.
It is not unreasonable to require some regulation of firearms, such as restrictions on the types available to the public and a restriction as to the total number of firearms that any individual can own. We regulate drugs, which harms the owner more than anyone else so why not firearms whose main victims are other than their owners.
Unlike his usual dictatorial methods, Mayor Moron is not trying to push an unpopular regulation through the city council. He is demanding, through his powers of persuasion, his access to media attention, and spending of his political capital, that those people currently engaged in taking positions on political issues take a position on this one. The amazing thing is that no one is listening. In fact, Bloomberg has been criticized for harping on this subject. I heard one comment to the effect that, every time we get one of these mass shootings people call for gun control. Implying, I suppose, that the whole issue will blow over and there is no point in talking about it.
It's been a few weeks since the shooting and already it seems to have blown by us. There is new news, and the media can't milk this story much longer. But the damage is done. The mourners have buried their dead, some survivors will emerge from the incident a shadow of their former selves; unable to walk or use both hands or think clearly, and others, while not physically maimed carry about in their brains and psyches, long term wounds and scars.
There is an incredible, dogged, lack of reason among proponents of unlimited and unrestricted gun use in the United States. Their arguments border on the ludicrous, but they are winning. Just witness the repeal of Virginia's one-gun-per-month law and similar repeals in other states that once did have these laws on the books.
Mayor Moron, I salute you. I only hope you won't give up on your latest campaign.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
SUMMERTIME
Most of our loyal readers must by now know my distaste for city living and my preference for the windswept vistas of the high plains and the fecund beauty of Western Ohio.
What you may not know is that I sometimes find myself in the heart of Manhattan and even sometimes find myself enjoying it. Just such an occasion presented itself a few days ago.
One of the most dramatic neighborhood transitions anywhere is that between Manhattan's silk-stocking district of the upper east side and Spanish Harlem. East 97th street is like a national border in that the difference between the area south of it and that north of it could be in two different countries. Park Avenue is a broad boulevard which runs north from Grand Central Station and is divided by a wide, park-like median below which run the tracks that lead into and out of Grand Central. It is lined, for the most part by office buildings and further north, apartment buildings boasting doormen attended entrance awnings, gilded entrance hardware, marble floored lobbies leading to some high ceilinged, duplex (and more) apartments peopled by New York's monied citizens.
At 97th street, all that changes. The tracks, cleverly hidden beneath decorative greenery, emerge from the depths to form an ugly ribbon of impassable steel bordered by dirt blackened granite block stone walls which probably haven't been washed for over 125 years. The tracks essentially divide Park Avenue into 2 separate streets and for the first five blocks north of 97th street you cannot get from one side of the tracks to the other. The neighborhood along this stretch of the avenue reflects the general squalor and industrial quality imparted to it by the tracks.
I mention all this to set the scene for my latest city experience. I visited the city one lovely summer morning a few days ago. I crossed over from the Henry Hudson Drive on 96th street, through the park via the transverse and onto East 96th street, enjoying the freshness of the morning in a beautiful neighborhood while searching for a place to park, either on the street or in a garage. I turned onto Madison avenue and encountered a Manhattan traffic jam which can test the nerves and skill of any driver attempting to negotiate a street littered with construction vehicles, double parked trucks, blocked lanes, and taxis making a bee line to the curb across several lanes of moving truck, taxi, limousine and passenger car traffic. This was all compounded by a hospital entrance which was in the process of being renovated. I safely survived this gauntlet and came up to Fifth avenue where sunlight stippled the pavement poking through the thick canopy of leaves from large street trees on both sides.
As I moved down the avenue, I saw a sight which delighted my senses. Walking towards us, a woman pushing a carriage appeared, accompanied by a bevy of little children, maybe 7 years old, dressed neatly in summer pinafores and outfits, each wheeling an identical scooter except for the colors which included pinks, greens and yellows. They came to the light at 98th street and formed up in a neat group to cross Fifth avenue. What especially caught my attention was the eager happy expression on each of their faces as they waited patiently for the light to change.
All the tensions of the last 10 minutes slipped away and stayed away the rest of the day. My one regret was that I didn't think of photographing them until it was too late.
What you may not know is that I sometimes find myself in the heart of Manhattan and even sometimes find myself enjoying it. Just such an occasion presented itself a few days ago.
One of the most dramatic neighborhood transitions anywhere is that between Manhattan's silk-stocking district of the upper east side and Spanish Harlem. East 97th street is like a national border in that the difference between the area south of it and that north of it could be in two different countries. Park Avenue is a broad boulevard which runs north from Grand Central Station and is divided by a wide, park-like median below which run the tracks that lead into and out of Grand Central. It is lined, for the most part by office buildings and further north, apartment buildings boasting doormen attended entrance awnings, gilded entrance hardware, marble floored lobbies leading to some high ceilinged, duplex (and more) apartments peopled by New York's monied citizens.
At 97th street, all that changes. The tracks, cleverly hidden beneath decorative greenery, emerge from the depths to form an ugly ribbon of impassable steel bordered by dirt blackened granite block stone walls which probably haven't been washed for over 125 years. The tracks essentially divide Park Avenue into 2 separate streets and for the first five blocks north of 97th street you cannot get from one side of the tracks to the other. The neighborhood along this stretch of the avenue reflects the general squalor and industrial quality imparted to it by the tracks.
I mention all this to set the scene for my latest city experience. I visited the city one lovely summer morning a few days ago. I crossed over from the Henry Hudson Drive on 96th street, through the park via the transverse and onto East 96th street, enjoying the freshness of the morning in a beautiful neighborhood while searching for a place to park, either on the street or in a garage. I turned onto Madison avenue and encountered a Manhattan traffic jam which can test the nerves and skill of any driver attempting to negotiate a street littered with construction vehicles, double parked trucks, blocked lanes, and taxis making a bee line to the curb across several lanes of moving truck, taxi, limousine and passenger car traffic. This was all compounded by a hospital entrance which was in the process of being renovated. I safely survived this gauntlet and came up to Fifth avenue where sunlight stippled the pavement poking through the thick canopy of leaves from large street trees on both sides.
As I moved down the avenue, I saw a sight which delighted my senses. Walking towards us, a woman pushing a carriage appeared, accompanied by a bevy of little children, maybe 7 years old, dressed neatly in summer pinafores and outfits, each wheeling an identical scooter except for the colors which included pinks, greens and yellows. They came to the light at 98th street and formed up in a neat group to cross Fifth avenue. What especially caught my attention was the eager happy expression on each of their faces as they waited patiently for the light to change.
All the tensions of the last 10 minutes slipped away and stayed away the rest of the day. My one regret was that I didn't think of photographing them until it was too late.
Flag Guy
There is an interesting phenomena that is probably exclusive to New York City, but might be found in other big downtown urban areas where parking is at a premium. It is the Flag Guy. This is usually an older gentleman that stands outside of parking garages and waves a flag to attract the attention of motorists who might be looking to park, but could miss the entrance to the lot. I assume the reason for the Flag Guy is that it is helpful on crowded streets where trucks or double parked cars and cabs can obstruct the sight lines of drivers, to have someone draw attention to the entrance. The large overhead signs, as well as sidewalk signs, can be missed by a harried driver, unfamiliar with an area, who didn't budget enough time to account for circling looking for a spot or garage, on top of midtown NYC traffic.
So it seems that some of the more enterprising garages have gone out and hired an old guy to stand in front of the garage all day, like the greeters in Walmart, and waves a big orange construction type flag at the passing motorists to bring their attention to the availability of parking in the area.
However, yesterday I saw either a new breed of Flag Guy, or a Flag Guy gone nuts.
I was driving on the east side of Manhattan in the Eighties. As I came down the block, I spotted a Flag Guy up ahead. As I got closer, he GLARED at me, and then VIOLENTLY swiped his flag at me, ORDERING me to pull in OR ELSE!!
I thought perhaps that I had misinterpreted the move and the sneer, but as traffic was barely moving at that point, I had the opportunity to have the performance performed for me a second time. More glares and flag snapping ensued.
So as I passed him I thought perhaps the man had a bad experience once with a blue Honda, but to be sure, I kept an eye on him in the rear view mirror.
I saw that the next car also received the same treatment, glares, sneers and vicious flag snapping ensured.
So i realized that the flag guy either (1) hated his job, (2) hated all cars on general principles or based on an experience with a car, or (3) hates people in general.
Not really the best basis for that kind of job.
So it seems that some of the more enterprising garages have gone out and hired an old guy to stand in front of the garage all day, like the greeters in Walmart, and waves a big orange construction type flag at the passing motorists to bring their attention to the availability of parking in the area.
However, yesterday I saw either a new breed of Flag Guy, or a Flag Guy gone nuts.
I was driving on the east side of Manhattan in the Eighties. As I came down the block, I spotted a Flag Guy up ahead. As I got closer, he GLARED at me, and then VIOLENTLY swiped his flag at me, ORDERING me to pull in OR ELSE!!
I thought perhaps that I had misinterpreted the move and the sneer, but as traffic was barely moving at that point, I had the opportunity to have the performance performed for me a second time. More glares and flag snapping ensued.
So as I passed him I thought perhaps the man had a bad experience once with a blue Honda, but to be sure, I kept an eye on him in the rear view mirror.
I saw that the next car also received the same treatment, glares, sneers and vicious flag snapping ensured.
So i realized that the flag guy either (1) hated his job, (2) hated all cars on general principles or based on an experience with a car, or (3) hates people in general.
Not really the best basis for that kind of job.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Milk Etiquette
As promised, here is the first of the teased posts.
I was in the fridge yesterday, late for our trip up through the wilds of upstate New York and Pennsylvania, and looking for the milk to put in my iced coffee. I was really looking forward to this particular cup, as it was my first in three months. As the family waited impatiently for me in the car, as I was running late as usual, I COULD NOT LOCATE THE MILK.
Milk is supposed to stay in the same place in the fridge, Just like one should not leave just a drip in the container and put it back, or put it back if it is spoiled, one should not return he milk to a different spot in said refrigerator, This is just basic milk etiquette, that everyone is or should be aware of.
However, these rules were clearly not be followed in my house yesterday. There is a possibility that the milk WAS put in the right place, but then other things were put in front of it, in violation of the rules, which caused it to move into the back of the fridge, with clearly NON -MILK items in front of it. Or someone just put it in the back of the fridge, which is a capital offence to milk etiquette everywhere. Either way, this is where I found it. In the back of the fridge, with no other milk products in front of it.
So to review.
1. Do not put a container with just a drip of milk left back in the refrigerator
2. If the milk is bad*, throw it away ( *This rule is suspended for those who refuse to believe that milk ever goes bad.)
3. Put the milk back where it belongs.
4. Do not put it in the back of the fridge, or in a different place each time.
5. Except for other containers of milk with more recent expiration dates, do not put other things in front of the milk. Some other milk based or related products can go in front of milk, but it is not considered classy to do so.
6. If you finish the last container, either replace it or tell someone who does the purchasing that the house is out of milk.
Please remember these rules, there will be a test on it later.
I was in the fridge yesterday, late for our trip up through the wilds of upstate New York and Pennsylvania, and looking for the milk to put in my iced coffee. I was really looking forward to this particular cup, as it was my first in three months. As the family waited impatiently for me in the car, as I was running late as usual, I COULD NOT LOCATE THE MILK.
Milk is supposed to stay in the same place in the fridge, Just like one should not leave just a drip in the container and put it back, or put it back if it is spoiled, one should not return he milk to a different spot in said refrigerator, This is just basic milk etiquette, that everyone is or should be aware of.
However, these rules were clearly not be followed in my house yesterday. There is a possibility that the milk WAS put in the right place, but then other things were put in front of it, in violation of the rules, which caused it to move into the back of the fridge, with clearly NON -MILK items in front of it. Or someone just put it in the back of the fridge, which is a capital offence to milk etiquette everywhere. Either way, this is where I found it. In the back of the fridge, with no other milk products in front of it.
So to review.
1. Do not put a container with just a drip of milk left back in the refrigerator
2. If the milk is bad*, throw it away ( *This rule is suspended for those who refuse to believe that milk ever goes bad.)
3. Put the milk back where it belongs.
4. Do not put it in the back of the fridge, or in a different place each time.
5. Except for other containers of milk with more recent expiration dates, do not put other things in front of the milk. Some other milk based or related products can go in front of milk, but it is not considered classy to do so.
6. If you finish the last container, either replace it or tell someone who does the purchasing that the house is out of milk.
Please remember these rules, there will be a test on it later.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
10,000!!! Yay!!!
We did it, dear readers! Together with your diligent looking ( very often futilely) for new posts, and reading the ones that actually got past the editorial board, we passed the 10,000 hit mark. I shall now do an analysis as to how the readership is trending, and post it at another time.
On behalf of Soupeater and myself, we thank you for your continued loyalty.
Some upcoming posts include milk etiquette, pie, and angry flag men, so keep checking!
On behalf of Soupeater and myself, we thank you for your continued loyalty.
Some upcoming posts include milk etiquette, pie, and angry flag men, so keep checking!
Monday, July 2, 2012
Summer Break from the Break
Small change in plans for the summer. due to a nephews wedding, my house is full of children! I have truly become an old fuddy-duddy, as I love it when all my kids are under my roof. Tonight Stretch picked up Boo from camp and brought her home. So for tonight and tomorrow, I have a full house, with the added addition of a niece for the evening as well.
Maybe I will wave at them all.
Maybe I will wave at them all.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Keep out of the Bushes
Bug came over to me and informed me that there was no more string in the weedwacker. Considering that we have barely used it since we got it, I was a little surprised that the spool was used up already. So I decided to do a little investigating, and asked him exactly what he was working on that used it up. He informed me that he decided to clear out an area of the lawn that is basically overgrown, but is on the edge of the property, not near a part of the lawn that we ever use.
I asked him why he decided to weedwack the bushes. I am still waiting for a coherent answer, other than "They were there."
When is the summer over?
I asked him why he decided to weedwack the bushes. I am still waiting for a coherent answer, other than "They were there."
When is the summer over?
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Summer Adventures
Summer is officially about to begin. Boo is headed off to camp for a month of relaxation away from her parents. As my baby heads off to the great outdoors ( since we live in the urban metropolis of Rockland County) to spend time with her summer friends that she has made over the years ( and a whole passel of cousins to boot) she is leaving her poor old folks at home.
With Bug and Ace. That should be a barrel of joy. Stay tuned for the various adventures. Never a dull moment at the Greunkern house.
With Bug and Ace. That should be a barrel of joy. Stay tuned for the various adventures. Never a dull moment at the Greunkern house.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Milestone approaching
Just a quick update. We are about 100 visits from hitting 5 DIGITS!! We are very excited here, and will be doing a more comprehensive analysis of the milestone as we get closer to it. Just wanted to let you all know.
Monday, June 18, 2012
They Used to Wave
I was feeling a bit nostalgic this morning as I watched Ace head off for her last official day of High School and Boo head off for her last day of Elementary School. For many years, Lovey or I, or sometimes both of us, would stand in the street or on steps of the house waving as they pulled away, and receive a wave from the girls as the bus pulled away.
Over time, when Ace started High School, and Boo grew up and got out to the bus on her own, the tradition of seeing the girls off waned, but I still used to watch them get on the bus from the windows inside the house. ( sometimes waving for old times sake, even if they couldn't see it. )
Finally, over the last year or so, I stopped even that, as everyone was just too busy in the morning. However, this morning, being the last day of school, and I had a few minutes before I had to leave for work, I decided to see them off. I walked out with Ace, and saw her get on the bus from the edge of the lawn. I then repeated the procedure with Boo ( accompanied by Bug and some ripped up leaves thrown as confetti.)
I felt that it was the end of an era for both girls, legally required schooling for Ace, and childhood schooling for Boo. I felt it should indeed be marked by a parent participating in the last official day of school, similar to how it started. But I think I am the only one who gets nostalgic these days.
Alas, no one waved.
Over time, when Ace started High School, and Boo grew up and got out to the bus on her own, the tradition of seeing the girls off waned, but I still used to watch them get on the bus from the windows inside the house. ( sometimes waving for old times sake, even if they couldn't see it. )
Finally, over the last year or so, I stopped even that, as everyone was just too busy in the morning. However, this morning, being the last day of school, and I had a few minutes before I had to leave for work, I decided to see them off. I walked out with Ace, and saw her get on the bus from the edge of the lawn. I then repeated the procedure with Boo ( accompanied by Bug and some ripped up leaves thrown as confetti.)
I felt that it was the end of an era for both girls, legally required schooling for Ace, and childhood schooling for Boo. I felt it should indeed be marked by a parent participating in the last official day of school, similar to how it started. But I think I am the only one who gets nostalgic these days.
Alas, no one waved.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Is it Me???
Today in Court I was reminded of a blog I intended to write last year, but never got around to it.
I was coming out of the mens room when a woman started to walk in, There is a bit of a vestibule after the door before the actual facilities, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I gently informed her that she was entering the mens room. She still hesitated ( based on her look and accent, I would have to say she wasn't born in this country), started to come in, then thought a little better of the situation, went out to check the picture on the door, ( it might be different in her country of origin, but I don't see how, and then asked me where the women's room was. I pointed it out to her, on the other side of the hall, but did not feel compelled to walk her in to it.
So this brought back memories of last year. Before Bug switched to his current dorm room, we took a tour of the general facilities of the dorm. They included an extensive shower/bathroom setup. As we were walking through the bathroom section, there was a woman in there with a security uniform on.
Just walking through.
A mens dormitory's bathroom.
I thought it a bit odd, ( what was she looking for? females? look in a mirror, honey.) so I mentioned to the main guard upstairs that perhaps they should not assign the mens locker/shower/bathroom to a female guard. I hope the suggestion was well taken, and taken as well.
Then a few days later I was at a wedding at a very nice hall on Long Island. I was using the facilities that are attached to the wall, and on the same basic wall as the sinks. Next thing I know, the door opens, and in comes a woman. I double checked that the unit I was using is generally only found in a mens rooms (so I was sure i was in the right place, whats good for the goose, etc.) it was indeed a mens room. I thought at first perhaps she made a mistake, but no, she started to clean the bathroom
with men in it
actually using the facilities.
I began to think it was me, but then just chalked it up to weird coincidences.
Until today .....
I was coming out of the mens room when a woman started to walk in, There is a bit of a vestibule after the door before the actual facilities, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I gently informed her that she was entering the mens room. She still hesitated ( based on her look and accent, I would have to say she wasn't born in this country), started to come in, then thought a little better of the situation, went out to check the picture on the door, ( it might be different in her country of origin, but I don't see how, and then asked me where the women's room was. I pointed it out to her, on the other side of the hall, but did not feel compelled to walk her in to it.
So this brought back memories of last year. Before Bug switched to his current dorm room, we took a tour of the general facilities of the dorm. They included an extensive shower/bathroom setup. As we were walking through the bathroom section, there was a woman in there with a security uniform on.
Just walking through.
A mens dormitory's bathroom.
I thought it a bit odd, ( what was she looking for? females? look in a mirror, honey.) so I mentioned to the main guard upstairs that perhaps they should not assign the mens locker/shower/bathroom to a female guard. I hope the suggestion was well taken, and taken as well.
Then a few days later I was at a wedding at a very nice hall on Long Island. I was using the facilities that are attached to the wall, and on the same basic wall as the sinks. Next thing I know, the door opens, and in comes a woman. I double checked that the unit I was using is generally only found in a mens rooms (so I was sure i was in the right place, whats good for the goose, etc.) it was indeed a mens room. I thought at first perhaps she made a mistake, but no, she started to clean the bathroom
with men in it
actually using the facilities.
I began to think it was me, but then just chalked it up to weird coincidences.
Until today .....
Monday, May 21, 2012
More Eats
Although people have the feeling that I have become preoccupied with food, this isn't really the case. I pretty much have always been preoccupied with food, which would explain both the inordinate amount of time spent on waffles and the sixty extra pounds I was carrying around.
So with that out of the way, let's talk food!
As I have stated, my goal is to re-create the foods that I should no longer eat with a reasonable facsimile thereof.
So the latest ones where tortilla chips with the help of FBB from Iceberg Carwash. We took corn tortillas, cut them in quarters, spiced and baked them. Not bad, but we needed to tweak it a bit. I think making them from scratch with spices in the batter would probably come out better when chipifying them.
Then it was on to smores. Rice cakes, marshmallows and chocolate sauce. Not bad. I felt decadent.
But light.
So with that out of the way, let's talk food!
As I have stated, my goal is to re-create the foods that I should no longer eat with a reasonable facsimile thereof.
So the latest ones where tortilla chips with the help of FBB from Iceberg Carwash. We took corn tortillas, cut them in quarters, spiced and baked them. Not bad, but we needed to tweak it a bit. I think making them from scratch with spices in the batter would probably come out better when chipifying them.
Then it was on to smores. Rice cakes, marshmallows and chocolate sauce. Not bad. I felt decadent.
But light.
Friday, May 18, 2012
All is Not Right in Paradise
I went to vote this week for the school budget and the school board. What happened there was beyond appalling.
As you drive in to the parking lot of the school, there were two guys handing out a card ( well away from the limits set for electioneering). As I wanted to follow their position for candidates, I took the card, parked and went in to vote.
As soon as I walk in, a guard, who works for the school stem and is not in favor of the position that I am concerning the school budget, yells at me that I can't have that card out and I have to put it away. As I am not yet ready to vote, since I am on line to register, I fold up the card and put it in my jacket pocket.
I then get my ballot, and go over to the little booths they now have set up. Its a table with sides that go up on three sides. As I put down my ballot in my own, (supposedly) private, booth, the guard and some other pompous jerk who is masquerading as an election official come over to me and start shouting that I can't have the card out. I scanned the names I wanted, just to be sure, and handed the card to someone ( I decided they weren't even worth a look), voted and left.
As I left, I thought about the matter and decided that I would not let it stand. I went back inside and asked the guard for his supervisor, he told me ( surprise, surprise) that his supervisor wasn't there. ( I think that is the first thing they teach them in guards for idiots 101, if ever questioned, there is NEVER anyone above them available to rein them in.)
I then said to some belligerent election official who came over (who my children later informed me was the same one who came over to harass me in the booth, but I didn't know that since I never looked up) that they have no right to come over to the booths, look what I am doing in the booth, and then harass and try to intimidate me. I told him that is by far a bigger violation of any election law than having the names of who you vote for with you in your private voting booth. They disagreed.
I then decided the best thing to do was leave, and if the results had not turned out the way I wanted, I would probably take this up a level, but I don't have to at this point.
As you drive in to the parking lot of the school, there were two guys handing out a card ( well away from the limits set for electioneering). As I wanted to follow their position for candidates, I took the card, parked and went in to vote.
As soon as I walk in, a guard, who works for the school stem and is not in favor of the position that I am concerning the school budget, yells at me that I can't have that card out and I have to put it away. As I am not yet ready to vote, since I am on line to register, I fold up the card and put it in my jacket pocket.
I then get my ballot, and go over to the little booths they now have set up. Its a table with sides that go up on three sides. As I put down my ballot in my own, (supposedly) private, booth, the guard and some other pompous jerk who is masquerading as an election official come over to me and start shouting that I can't have the card out. I scanned the names I wanted, just to be sure, and handed the card to someone ( I decided they weren't even worth a look), voted and left.
As I left, I thought about the matter and decided that I would not let it stand. I went back inside and asked the guard for his supervisor, he told me ( surprise, surprise) that his supervisor wasn't there. ( I think that is the first thing they teach them in guards for idiots 101, if ever questioned, there is NEVER anyone above them available to rein them in.)
I then said to some belligerent election official who came over (who my children later informed me was the same one who came over to harass me in the booth, but I didn't know that since I never looked up) that they have no right to come over to the booths, look what I am doing in the booth, and then harass and try to intimidate me. I told him that is by far a bigger violation of any election law than having the names of who you vote for with you in your private voting booth. They disagreed.
I then decided the best thing to do was leave, and if the results had not turned out the way I wanted, I would probably take this up a level, but I don't have to at this point.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
To Eat or Not to Eat
So I am really trying to figure this diet thing out. The correct thing to do would be to talk to a nutritionist. however, I didn't become a doctor without having a basic rudimentary knowledge of nutrition. ( please don't comment on this, I am well aware that it is nonsense, just let it ride.)
So I hear that it is good to eat fish. Even salmon. I asked my panel of experts what they do with salmon, and if it is high in fats. they told me it is, but is is supposed to be good for you. So we have been buying different kinds of fish and I went down to the pool ( freezer) to compare the different types of fish. Tilapia has one gram of fat per 4 ounces. Sounds good. Flounder has one and half for the same size portion, bring it on. ( Unfortunately I worry that the taste is on par with the fat content, low.) Then it was on to a can of tuna. one gram for two ounces, which relates to two grams of fat for the same size 9 at least my brain works, so the fish must be working).
Then I looked at the salmon
holy cow, or maybe we should eat the cow, it can't be higher.
a seven ounce piece has 20 GRAMS OF FAT with 7 SATURATED
I really need to figure this out.
So I hear that it is good to eat fish. Even salmon. I asked my panel of experts what they do with salmon, and if it is high in fats. they told me it is, but is is supposed to be good for you. So we have been buying different kinds of fish and I went down to the pool ( freezer) to compare the different types of fish. Tilapia has one gram of fat per 4 ounces. Sounds good. Flounder has one and half for the same size portion, bring it on. ( Unfortunately I worry that the taste is on par with the fat content, low.) Then it was on to a can of tuna. one gram for two ounces, which relates to two grams of fat for the same size 9 at least my brain works, so the fish must be working).
Then I looked at the salmon
holy cow, or maybe we should eat the cow, it can't be higher.
a seven ounce piece has 20 GRAMS OF FAT with 7 SATURATED
I really need to figure this out.
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