Happy New Year

I have been threatening you for several weeks with an adorable cat video. 

And with Bandit stories. 

Here they are.

First of all, Bandit is the smartest cat I've ever known.  Her sister Sneaky was probably just as smart, but lazier.  It was Sneaky who figured out how to climb a door frame and sit on top of a door.  Then she taught Bandit to do it and her work was done.  Somewhere I have a picture of Bandit sitting on top of a door (and, of course, as soon as I find it you will see it here.)  I'll save the story of how I figured out Bandit was smart for another time (when I don't have an adorable video to get to.)

A little feline behavior:  This particular bit started, we think, shortly after Sneaky passed away.  (I'm not a cat psychologist, but I play one on the Internet.)  With four cats (now) I'm sure it won't surprise you that there are little cat toys all over the house.  (Some of which were actually intended to BE cat toys.  If you have a cat you'll understand that EVERYTHING is a cat toy.)  Some of them are little stuffed "mice."  The kittens (okay, they just turned 9 but they're still "the kittens") play with them sometimes.  Sneaky used to be the only one that really liked to play with them.  Bandit pretty much ignored them.

But now there's one.  It's covered in a sort of leopard print faux fur.  We call it "Bandit's Baby."  Usually late at night, but sometimes during the day, Bandit will carry it around the house "crying."  Unless you look at her.  Then she'll drop it and pretend it never happened.

As you can guess, that last bit has made it difficult to capture.  My wife has been trying for months to catch her on video.  (And for several weeks to share the results with me.)

So here you go, Bandit with her Baby:

Now, I can retire in 781 days, so you cats get off my lawn.

Merry Christmas

It's a quarter to three on Friday afternoon (I'm on my break) December 21, 2012, and the world hasn't ended yet. 

I promised an adorable cat video this week.  I'll post it today, if  my wife figures out how to drop it into my drop box in the next hour, but I'm not holding my breath.  Otherwise I'll post it next week (if the world doesn't end first.)

I'll give you a picture instead:

I introduced Bandit a while back (sitting in a cabinet.  It was the first picture I posted to a blog.)  I also threatened Bandit stories when I have nothing to blog about.  (I have since demonstrated that having nothing to say doesn't keep me from saying it.  At length.)

Anyway, that's Bandit on the back of the chair, but I'm sure you recognized her.  That's Solomon's chair.  That's Solomon, in the seat.  Looks comfy, don't he.  He got up after a while, so I got this picture:

I can retire in 786 days.  If the world doesn't end first.  So you carolers get ... aw, shucks.  Have some eggnog.

In a Handbasket

Honestly, all I wanted to do this week was post an adorable cat video.  I guess that will have to wait.

I may have mentioned that I'm a Freemason. You may have seen a sign or bumper sticker saying that Masonry makes good men better.  That's a pretty bold claim.  I don't really consider my self a "good man," and making me better is asking a lot, but I will say this: it slows the rate at which I'm getting worse.  It's a good thing I had a lot of Masonic commitments this week.

I started the week by cursing at ... someone on the phone.  At work.  On Monday.  We'll see if I'm still employed when I post this.  It's Thursday night, and I haven't heard any repercussions yet.  I plan to post at 4:45 PM tomorrow.  The trick will be next week, because mentioning it at all online is probably a violation.  Since retiring this week, versus 793 days from now, will cost me almost a thousand a month and a $125K IBO, I should probably drop the subject.  But I can't.  It's not in my nature.

My nature is actually introspective.  I dwell on crap.  If I can find a way to make it my fault I will.  I've dwelt on this for four days now.  I'm still pissed off.  I can clearly see my contribution to the problem.  But when I think through the details..., nah, I was right.

I called this guy an idiot.  I prefixed that with an adjective that I won't use in my PG rated blog.  This was very unprofessional, and I don't care.  (What really amused me was that he took offense at the adjective but not the noun.)  I stick by my evaluation.  After all, it takes one to know one.   (For my qualifications see potential risk to my retirement mentioned above.)  However, I am too keenly aware of my own mortality to appreciate wasting an hour of my time because some idiot can't answer simple questions or follow directions.

Anyway, since blogs with pictures appear to get more hits, here you go.

(Best I could do.  On an image search I realized there are a lot of stupid people in the world, and a lot of web sites that suck.  I should be able to find something to rant about in the new year.)

Now, if I can go  another 793 days without gettin' fired I'll be able to retire.  So you kids get off my lawn!

Gettin' Old

I'm doin' it, I don't like it, and I'm gonna keep doin' it just as long as I can.

I shaved my head again on Sunday (I had been letting it grow for a while.  I have pictures to prove it but I won't inflict them on you ... yet) and I started writing this (in my head) at that time.  Now it's about a quarter past eleven on Thursday night, and I know you're wondering how that blogging daily thing is workin' out for me.

Many, many years ago, when she was still funny and had two names, Roseanne Barr told a joke about an agreement she had with her husband, Fang.  (No wait, that was Phyllis Diller.  She was always funny.)  Anyway, Roseanne said they had an agreement.  "He doesn't mention that I'm a tad overweight, and I don't mention that he has more hair in his ears than he does on his head."

It was funny.

Then.

'Tain't no mo'.

Before I shaved my head I felt compelled to shave my ears.  I figure that probably sounds gross, and is TMI even for a blog.  Unless I get a demand for more tales of ear-shaving old men I believe I'll let that subject die.

Okay, I just checked my blog stats, and my post from July 20 has my second highest number of page views.  (That's only 41 btw.)  After that it tapers off, with a little spike on Thanksgiving.  I attribute that to the pictures.  My highest number (45) is for the one titled "The Dog."  I attribute that to the fact that everybody loves adorable pets on the Internet.  (I attribute the decline in page views that followed to the fact that there was, in fact, no dog in the post.)  Anyway, all of this leads me to conclude that I need to include pictures (preferably of adorable animals) as often as possible.  So here's another that turned up in last week's search:

As I said above, I started typing this on Thursday night.  I actually drifted off right after I typed "That's only 41" in the paragraph above.  Now it's 8:29 PM on Friday, and I'm late posting again.  But I'll have it out there by midnight.

Meanwhile I have 800 days until I can retire, and you kids get off my lawn.

Just checkin' in

Maybe I oughtta say "just phonin' it in."  I keep tellin' myself I'm gonna write somethin' worth readin'.  Maybe I'll get there some day.

Right before I started writing this (perhaps in the subconscious hope it would inspire something to write about) I decided to google "get off my lawn," to see if anything on this blog came up.  The top part of the search results was about the same as when I was getting started with this.  But when I scrolled down to the image results I was surprised.  The first four images were beautiful, golden fried turkeys.  But Google knew it was my blog, too.  (They were all labelled "YOU.") I'm doin' this in Chrome and I'm logged in to Google Plus, and Blogspot is a Google product.  So I don't know if that means anything or not.  Why don't you google it and let me know.

But it did come back with this picture, too:

At least that gives me an image to include with this Post.

I've blathered on long enough about nothing.  If all goes according to plan I can retire in 807 days.

Seriously.

Get off my lawn.

Happy Thanksgiving

I hope everybody had one.  I don't know about you, but I'm stuffed.  Right now I'm waiting until I feel like going to the kitchen and stuffing myself some  more.

I'm not absolutely certain, but I think this is the first time I've actually had fried turkey.  I've been back in South Louisiana for 27 years, so how pitiful is that?  It won't be the last time if I can help it.

St. Albans Lodge # 28, Free and Accepted Masons fried turkeys on Wednesday to raise funds for the building fund.  I'll post a couple of pictures.

Here's a dozen birds cooling before getting wrapped.

I'm going to avoid showing people, since I didn't get anyone's permission.

Fortunately we have people who know what they're doing.  I kept my promise to stay away from the cooking.

Okay, that does it.  I'm hungry now.  I think I'll go get some leftovers.

Meanwhile, I should be able to retire in 814 days, and you kids get off my lawn.

Rushing again

8:08 PM 11/16/2012

Rushing again to get something written by midnight.  I actually wrote a little blog post at work (... on my lunch hour..., yeah ..., that's the ticket....) but I didn't post it.  Forgot to sent it home, too.  Wasn't very good anyway, but probably better than this one.

Last week I said I started to blog something about work, but by the time I got around to it I couldn't remember.  I had spoken to a former candidate for Mayor earlier in the day (I will not mention the city to protect the innocent) who actually inquired about my blog.  Since he was going to be reading (or at least lead me to believe he would..., he was a politician after all) I felt obligated to actually post something.

I also mentioned that I would be at a York Rite Festival the next day.  Someone there actually mentioned reading this.  Go figure.

People READ this?  Maybe I oughtta pay more attention to what I write.

Nah!

It's 8:16 PM, so I have a little while left to post this.  I'll see if I think of anything more interesting to say.

9:18 PM: Nothin' yet.

I think I did mention in the one I wrote earlier that I hadn't felt well for most of the week.  Excuses, excuses.  Sounds like whining to me, so I'm sorry I repeated it here.

I also mentioned that my dog (Alexia..., I call her Lexi) was home after spending the weekend at the vet.  I couldn't find a good picture but I'll post one soon.  She's a German Shepherd, close to 120 pounds, and starting her second decade.  I'm afraid age is catching up with her, but she'll always be my puppy.  I didn't start feeling better until she got home.  Go figure.

Well, it's 9:24 PM and I think I'll post this now.  I don't think it's gonna get any better.

I should be able to retire in 821 days, and you kids get off my lawn.

IT'S FRIDAY!

How did that happen?  It's 10:36 PM on 11/9/2012, and I'm determined to post something to my blog while it's still Friday.

Have I mentioned that I'm a Mason?  Well, if all the aprons, Templar uniforms, etc. on my Facebook page weren't a giveaway, I am.  I just got back from a York Rite meeting.  We were actually able to open and elect officers for next year.  Our many thanks to the two Companions from the Downtown York Rite Bodies who visited this evening and made us legal.  I will exemplify my thanks by not mentioning their names in this blog, as I know they would be loathe to be associated with it (if they knew of its existance.)

I have to be in Hammond at 8:00 AM to confer the Mark Master Degree, so I should keep this short.  But that's why I became a Mason.  I love degree work.  I have since I was a Scout, in the Order of the Arrow (when we called it Ceremonial Work.  Same thing.)

I remember the last Order of the Arrow Ceremony I did.  It was an Ordeal Ceremony, and I was Allowat Sakima.  Probably the only time I was EVER Allowat Sakima.  I was always Meteu.  I was also 21.  I was too old to do ceremonies.  But they didn't have anyone else to do it and my arm didn't take a lot of twisting.

There were two Scout Leaders who took their Ordeal that weekend.  After the Ceremony they mentioned to me that I would really enjoy being a Mason.  I didn't realize at the time, though I should have, that that was as close as they could get to asking me to join.  It took another 27 years, but I found out they were right.

I was going to skate over where the ice is thin, and talk about work today, but I don't remember what I was going to say about that.  It's just as well.  I feel better after writing the above paragraphs.  I'm not even thinking about politics.

It's 10:52 PM and it looks like I might have this posted by 11.  I'll be able to retire in 828 days, so you kids get off of my lawn.

Thin Ice

In my last blog I said I'd start making daily entries.  I'm writing this on Thursday night, and we can see how that's workin' out.  I did start something Sunday night but I was rambling.  What I wanted to say was that while I was posting last Friday's blog I realized that my comment on going back to WalMart didn't say it had been that day.

Speaking of, I was in WalMart earlier tonight.  Buying beer.  After spending that much time in WalMart (any time in WalMart) I need to be buying beer.  Another thing I said last week was that I like to skate on thin ice.  That's figurative of course, since I can't skate at all.  (I guess that makes me a figurative skater.)

As I may have mentioned (maybe not) I'm a Classified Civil Servant in Louisiana.  At least for another 835 days.  Before I blog again there will have been an election.  And of course, the Little Hatch Act prevents me from discussing politics.  Every year, at least every election year (and in Louisiana every year is an election year) Civil Service issues a General Circular reminding us what we can and can't do.   Here's the one from last year:

Now here's the one from this year:

The first difference you'll notice is that this year's is half as long.  It seems to me that most of the length was cut by not bothering to list (in any detail) the things a civil servant CAN do.  (It does say we can vote, but I'm sure they're not real happy about that, either.)  What struck me though, was that this year they felt the need to specify that we cannot LIKE a Candidate or party, of follow them on Twitter. 

It was a couple of weeks after this came out that I remembered I had LIKEd a radio program on Facebook which might be considered political.  So I checked my LIKEs and discovered I had also LIKEd a conservative group of some kind.  But neither one is a party or candidate so I haven't (and do not plan to) unLIKE either.

I do understand that LIKEing a candidate would be construed as a violation of policy, but the other concerns me.

I don't tweet, and I don't follow Twitter.  But the impression I have is that following someone does not constitute an endorsement.  I thought I could, just as an example, follow both candidates in the Presidential election to keep myself informed.  But I guess civil service says no.

Let me know what you think.  I'd also be interested in whether you think these restrictions encroach on our First Amendment rights?  I hear the courts have said they don't.

Anyway, I think that's enough for this week.  If the ice doesn't crack I can retire in 835 days, so you kids get off my lawn.

Playing Catch Up

So much for blogging weekly.  I kept it up for 13 weeks.  I'm sure that's longer than anybody that knows me would have expected.  I didn't realize how long it had been until I counted the posted blogs.  Thirteen seems to be a theme.

I posted my first blog on my 55th birthday, and last blogged on July 20th.  I started writing this on 10/11/2012 and had planned on posting it October 12.  That would have been the 12th week since I posted last.  Now, two weeks after that, I have gone 13 weeks without posting a blog.  Like I said, a theme.

I had also tried to get my Friday blogs finished Thursday night and set them to publish at 4:45 PM Central Time, which is coincidentally when my work day officially ends.  Of course I never blog on company time. 

But now it's 7:16 PM on Friday 10/26/2012, and I just want to post something while it's still Friday.

Since a blog is supposed to be a log, and since I'm really doing this to try to teach myself discipline (after 55 years, wish me luck) I think I'm going to try making daily (going forward) entries that I can clean up on Thursday night.  With that in mind, here's what I put down earlier in the week:

Sunday, 10/20/2012, 6:45 PM

Earlier this evening I was buying beer at a WalMart in Denham Springs, Louisiana.  Ignoring the obvious questions that statement should raise, I will give the image a few seconds to form in your mind, then continue.  There.

I had plenty of time to look around while standing in the "speedy check-out" line, it was a WalMart, after all, and will leave most of those observations unarticulated.  I did, however, notice that Dark Shadows is out on DVD.  (In time for Hallowe'en, I presume.)  In what looked like a double box with Beetlejuice.  As I sped past the display I found time to read the fine print, and noticed that the box purported to contain the DVD of Dark Shadows and "vudu" (?) of Beetlejuice.  I presume that "vudu" (if I read the stylized logo correctly) is some proprietary digital download format that I haven't encountered yet.  I also noted that the "digital movie offer" expired October 2.  Just sayin'.  (Now that I think about it, perhaps I didn't do enough research as I sped past the rack.  I'm not certain it said 2012.  I could be doing WalMart a disservice.)

At any rate that reminded me that I said quite a while back I would clean up my original blog about the movie.  I didn't and I won't, but I may have to fork out 20 bucks to WalMart and watch it again.

Wednesday, 10/24/2012, 10:22 PM

I went back (to a different WalMart) and checked.  It's good through 2017.  I'm not a huge Beetlejuice fan, and you  have to set up a Vudu account, so I bought just the Dark Shadows DVD for the same price.

Friday, 10/26/2012, 7:23 PM

Okay, I can NOT believe it was just two days ago that I went to WalMart.  Somethin' ain't right.  Oh well.

I may try to actually have something interesting next week.  At the moment I feel like skating on thin ice.  We'll see if I can keep that feeling for a week.  This one feels to me like a waste of time, but at least nobody's actually reading it. 



But, I can retire in 842 days, so you kids get off of my lawn.

Running late

And working late.  Late seems like my theme for the week.  I'm also blogging late (but I'm off the clock.)  Once again, it seems like I had a good idea early in the week, but I've slept since then.

There is, however a radio commercial (I wanted to say I didn't remember what for, but I've heard it along the way. It's CarMax.) that says the best way to start a blog is with pictures of cats.

Doing stuff.

I suppose sitting in a cabinet is doing stuff.  That's Bandit by the way.  The next time I'm out of ideas I may start telling Bandit stories.

There are comments to my last blog that I need to approve.  I promise I will by next week.  I'll have further comment then.

Anyway, there are 940 days till I can retire, so until then you kids get off my lawn.

Friday the Thirteenth

I don't have anything to say about it.  It just happens to be today.  I will observe that, if I retire in 947 days my last day of work will also be Friday the Thirteenth.  Nothing has occurred this week to alter that date, btw.

On Monday I was thinking about using "Bad Puns" as this week's topic, and I had one, but damned if I can remember it now.  But bad jokes (mainly puns) have been on my mind lately.  I have decided that the American Sense of Humor reaches its pinnacle in the sixth grade.  If you can make a sixth grade boy blow milk out his nose, and a sixth grade girl look at you as though you have three heads (in the particularly snarky way that only a sixth grade girl can) you have achieved the comedic equivalent of the Nobel Prize.

So I will now, for the first time, actually solicit comments to my blog.  I want y'all to help me build a Sixth Grade Reading List.  To some of you my meaning may be obvious, but to stimulate thinking for the rest of you I will just mention the collected works of Isaac Perceval Freely.  Just submit your most fondly remembered titles and authors using the Comment button below.

I can retire in 947 days.  Get off my lawn.

Stand By

I was hoping to have something interesting to blog on this week, but while I'm waiting I wrote this as a standby.

One of the things I've always considered a "great job" is restaurant critic.  I have absolutely no qualifications (other than a mouth) for it, but this is The Internet.  That doesn't matter at all now, does it.

A new restaurant opened recently on Third Street in Downtown Baton Rouge.  I watched, and walked by on the way to lunch, as they remodeled the space.  It is called "Restaurant IPO."

I'll let the name pass without comment, other than to say it conveyed to me an impression of higher prices.  I was pleasantly surprised on Monday when I checked the menu in the window.

It was packed for lunch, but there were a couple of stools at the bar.  Those who know me know I wasn't disappointed that I had to sit there.  The service was excellent.  As a former bartender myself I sympathize with anyone who has to work the bar AND serve food.  I always say diners deserve a real waiter.

The menu was interesting.  I had the Heirloom Salad and Loco Portabella.

Both were a la carte, the Portabella on the "Southern Tapas" section of the menu.  I  was familiar with the term "Tapas" but really not aware of its meaning, other than that it was Spanish in origin.  But I could tell it was the appetizer section, and with a little research I learned that is basically what it means.  (I'll probably blog more on that when I need another standby.)

Having recently discovered heirloom tomatoes, the salad immediately caught my eye.  What surprised me (I guess I didn't pay that much attention to the menu) was the fried okra.  The tomatoes were tiny; grape tomatoes unless I miss my guess.  I'll take their word that they were heirloom.  The combination was incredible.  A balsamic vinagrette, fried okra, tomatoes and lettuce.  Who'd a'thunk it?

I am a freak for portabella mushrooms.  Stuff a cap with chicken and cheese, how can you go wrong?  

I have to say that for food of this quality the price was good.  The rest of the menu was appealing, and I've already decided what to order the next time.

And until then, I have 954 days until I can retire, and you kids get off my lawn.

Long Week

I had my interview yesterday.  It went well, and as far as I could tell he hadn't read my blog.  He had been told to call me "Rasputin," but he didn't.  I got to see some old co-workers and had lunch with Mike (Happy Birthday, btw) so it was a good day.  It's not going to change my blogging style, and that's all I have to say about that.

I thought of something to blog about while driving home, but damned if I can remember it now.  So this might be it.  It's been a long week.

I have 961 days until I can retire, and you kids get off my lawn.

Just Sayin'

I can retire in 968 days.

I said in an earlier blog (56 days ago) that "I have a job ... that I don't hate (which I know makes me extremely lucky)...."

Even though I like the job I have now, for an assortment of reasons I needn't go into here, I've been looking for another for quite some time.  So along the way I've read many Internet articles on finding a job.  There is much advice out there, most of which I routinely ignore.

One of the most common pieces of advice is, to paraphrase, be careful of your online presence.  The guy doing your interview will have seen your Facebook page.  He knows how you ladies got all those Mardi Gras beads.  He reads your blog.

I bring this up because I have an interview next week.  In a major deviation from my usual pattern of behavior, I'm going to heed (somewhat) the prevailing wisdom, and on the off chance that my interviewer stumbles across this,  try to destroy the image I have deliberately concocted of a guy who's counting down the 968 days he has left, so he can bolt at the earliest opportunity.

Of course I'll cover that in the interview, and I'm not going to try to interview here.  I will try to "sell" myself, and point out the advantages of hiring a short-timer.  But I guess I need to make sure it can be seen here that I'm not married to that 2/15/15 date.  A new job, with new challenges (and new opportunities) would bring with it a new attitude.  Just sayin'.

(Alright, YOU.  Whaddaya mean it's gettin' deep?)

Like I say, I'll save the selling for the interview itself.  Until then, you kids get off my lawn.

(Oh, I forgot to mention: Operation Barbarossa began 71 years ago today.  Why?  Who knows.)

The Dog, Part 2

Last week I made this statement:  THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS "IDENTITY THEFT."

First, let's examine the concept of "theft."  If I steal your car, then I have the car and you don't.  I'm driving it around and you're walking.  I cannot steal your identity.  If I could, then I would be you, and you wouldn't.  What we have here is FRAUD.  I haven't "stolen" your "identity."  I have defrauded someone by saying that I'm you.

So let me tell you a story.  (Allegory warning!)

I go to an ATM in a bad part of town.  (Anyone who knows me can easily visualize this.)  I take out a hundred bucks and turn around, and there stands a guy with his hand in his pocket, who appears to have a gun.  He says "give me your money," I hand him the hundred bucks, and he runs off.

Now I start to stew on this, then I see you coming.  I step into the alley and watch you take your money out of the ATM.  I stick my hand in my pocket, point my finger and step out and say "Give me a hundred bucks."  You say "Here!  Take it all!"  I say "No, I just want a hundred bucks" and hand you back the rest.

Who robbed you?

(I did, in case you haven't figured that out.)  What we have here is a "transfer of victimhood."  What the banks have labeled "Identity theft" is in fact bank fraud, and they are the victims.  The reason they are victims it that they have failed in their duty to properly identify the people they do business with.  Rather than fix their problem, they have convinced their customer that he is in fact the "victim" of a crime that they have made up and called "identity theft."  Now I hear commercials asking you to pay about $400 a year for a "service" called "Identity Protection."

But I feel like I'm beating a dead horse.  I'll try to think of something interesting to blog about next week.  But for now I have 975 days until I can retire, and you kids get off my lawn.

The Dog

You know, the one the tail keeps wagging.  After long deliberation I have arrived at the conclusion that people are both stupid and lazy.  (Once again, I'm not talking about you.  I am however talking about me.  Not me alone, or necessarily in this regard but I am stupid and lazy.)  More particularly, people tend to miss the point.  Whatever the point may be.

For example, years ago, in the dim ages of another century, when dinosaurs roamed the earth and music was recorded on vinyl (as God intended,)  if you had money in the bank but not in your pocket, and you wanted to spend it you wrote a check.  For the benefit of any young people unfortunate enough to have stumbled on this blog, this was before the days of debit cards, even before ATMs.  Credit cards did exist (for rich people) but checks were like little, paper, one transaction at a time debit cards.  You'd fill it out, the store would take it, and the bank would give the store your money for it.  All in a mysterious banker sort of magic.

The problem was, anybody could write your name on a check.  This was a dilema for the store.  On the one hand, they didn't want to give their merchandise away for a worthless piece of paper, but on the other they didn't want to miss out on making a sale.  So they figured out ways to minimize their risk.  One of the things they did to make sure that the person writing the check was actually the person named on the check was to ask their minimum wage cashiers to look at a picture ID.  Since we're talking about high school kids making $2.10 an hour (less if you go back far enough) they needed a way to confirm that, so they asked the cashiers to write the customer's drivers' license number on the check.

Remember now, the store didn't want the number, they wanted to insure that the cashier looked at the license.  But, as I have already observed PEOPLE ARE LAZY!  First they would just recite the number from memory because they didn't want to get the license out, but soon, in a stroke of ABSOLUTE GENIUS they began to have the number actually PRINTED ON THEIR CHECKS.  I'm even more bewildered that the bank, equally concerned about worthless paper, actually printed those checks for these geniuses.  Now we're back to where we started.

Back then, signing someone elses name to a check was called forgery.  The concept of "identity theft" was still in the future.  And all of the foregoing is a setup for next weeks rant: 

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS "IDENTITY THEFT."

And now I earnestly solicit your feedback on this post, before I proceed to solve the rest of the world's problems.  That said let me take care of a little housekeeping:  I still haven't "cleaned up" my Dark Shadows review.  As of right now I plan to retire in 982 days. 

Now get off my lawn.

I got nothin'

Not that there's nothing I want to blog on this week, but I will uncharacteristically allow my better judgment to prevail.

I have, however, enabled comments starting with this blog.  Not that I'm particularly interested in what the average web surfer has to say, but anybody reading this now is at least my Facebook friend.  I'm also moderating everything, so if I think you're an idiot ..., (no, not YOU, him over there) ... nobody else will ever see your comment anyway.

Feel free to comment on anything I've written so far.  I'm going to try to clean up the Dark Shadows "review" this week.

Other than that, I have 989 days to retirement, and you kids get off my lawn.

Bits and Pieces

Blogging weekly ain't easy.  I know last week's blog was incoherent, at least in places.  I intend to clean it up at some point.  I meant to do it two days ago.

I usually try to get these done Thursday night and set them to publish at close of business Friday.  Right now it is 10:12 PM 5/25/2012 and I am at my brother's house in Gee's Bend, Alabama.  (When asked where it is I usually reply "go to the middle of nowhere, and turn off the paved road.")  This blog may be shorter than usual.  I just want to get it posted by midnight.  Maybe I'll have two incoherent in a row.  That won't surprise anyone.

I do have a topic though.  Some might call it serendipity, or coincidence, or divine guidance.  Looking back I think it was actually inevitable.

A couple of days ago I was talking to my neighbor and mentioned I was making this trip.  She asked what route I would be taking, and I said I'd probably go through Mobile.  So of course we got to talking about cool places along the coast.  I mentioned the FloraBama Lounge (which I still haven't been to.  I've fallen behind in my dive bar exploration.)  She told me about a place called The Shed.  She told me the story behind it, described the place (as much as it CAN BE decribed) and said they had good barbecue.  She did mention that it was at exit 57, on Highway 57, but that didn't mean much to me.

Anyway, I took the day off to come here, dragged around the house and got on the road about 10.  Traffic on the Interstate came to a halt several times for no apparent reason.  Somehow I forgot it was a holiday weekend.  That happens I suppose.  Anyway, traffic had just started moving along in Mississippi, I was planning to stop in Mobile for lunch and gas, I had just checked my GPS (figuring about half an hour) and my clock (it said 1:00. straight up) and looked up to see a sign: The Shed, Exit 57.  Moving into the right lane there was exit 57.  Some things are just meant to be.

I'm not gonna try to describe The Shed.  I know I can't.  Go see it for yourself.  Thank me later.

I have come to prefer sausage over any other barbecue.  I know it's harder to judge, the sausage itself overwhelms the cooking technique, but I like it.  I'll have ribs next time.  There WILL BE a next time.  I had the sausage plate, with collard greens and potato salad.  Over the past half century or so I've had a lot of barbecue.  Over the last decade quite a bit of barbecued sausage.  If I've had better, I don't remember it.  The potato salad may have been the best restaurant potato salad I've ever had.  And I had a diet coke.  The next time it will be a beer.

Anyway, I have 996 days until retirement.  I'm in triple digits now.

Hmmm ..., I wonder what time I'll be passing exit 57 on the way home ....

Now you kids get off my lawn!

Dark Shadows

It occurred to me as I sat in the theater waiting for it to start that it would be impossible for me to "review" this movie.  A review would require me to be impartial, and when it comes to this I cannot be impartial.   But that's never stopped me from shootin' off my mouth, so why should it now.  

It was better than I had feared.  I wish they hadn't played it for comedy, but they did.  I wanted to see it a second time before I wrote this, but life is a lot busier now than when I could spend half a day on the steps of the Lake Theater waiting for the doors to open.  

How do I tell you about it without spoiling it if you haven't seen it?  I don't.  It's not really spoilable.  If you're reading my blog you're probably familiar with the original.  You have a pretty good idea of how it goes.  They definitely have a different take on it, but I think it was in keeping with the spirit of the original.  If you're worried about spoilers go see it, and come back and read this later.

I like the tone they set in the 18th century backstory.  I knew I would.  It was obvious from the trailer.  I wish they had maintained it throughout.  I found Barnabas' discovery of the Mark of Mephistopheles.  If you don't see that coming down sixth avenue I can't help you.

They hooked me on the train.  The original series started with Victoria on a train to Collinsport to start a new life.  After Barnabas was introduced there seemed to be some indecision whether Vicky or Maggie was the romantic interest, and I like the way that was handled.

The second point I appreciated was Barnabas introduction to Victoria.  If I had not been watching the original series on NetFlix I wouldn't have caught this, but they used the exact line from the series.

The seventies tone was well done, even if it was a little over the top.  I found the "business rivalry" had the tone of a seventies prime-time soap opera, Dallas or Dynasty, which was appropriate.  Of course I liked the music.

For some reason I was distracted (by Alice Cooper, I think) and missed the cameos at the door during the ball.  (The main reason I want to see it a second time.)  I have read that Mr. Frid did not enjoy the experience, and that saddens me.

I've had about all I want to see of overblown fight scenes, and in the immortal words of Forrest Gump "that's all I have to say about that."

The ending, also over the top (we're talking about Tim Burton and Johnny Depp, right?) I find more acceptable upon reflection.  When you consider the story of Josette from the original series you'll find we have a complete circle.

It's not the movie I would have wanted.  I hear there is more that will be on the DVD release, and I hope that's more satisfying.  But I don't think they've damaged the franchise.  They didn't "Howard the Duck" it.  There is certainly much more that can be done with this story.  The Collins Family deserves a place in American Mythology.  I hope the next version does the story justice.

And if my math is right I have 1003 days until retirement.  So until then you kids get off my lawn.

Time Flies

Time flies.

It doesn't matter whether or not you're having fun.  Oh, when you're NOT having fun it may seem to drag at the time, but when you look back on it....

Now, if you're younger than me ... you're not reading this.  Who am I kidding?

After years of silent contemplation, I think I've figured it out.  When I was 20 years old, 20 years was a lifetime.  It had been two years since I graduated from high school.  But when I was 40, 20 years ago was last week, and I graduated from high school yesterday.  At 55, I graduated from high school ... yesterday, and 35 years ago was last week.

As I mentioned in my first blog, judging by family history on my father's side, I think I can count on checking out around 80, following a 10 year decline.  Using the time calculations above, check out time is noon tomorrow.

I went to work for the State of Louisiana in 1990, with no intention of actually retiring from the State.  The retirement plan was a good one however, and we've already discussed how short 20 years really is.  Now, 22 years later I'm looking at actually retiring in 1010 days.  If those pinheads in the Le ... t's skate back over where the ice is a little thicker.

Time flies.  

Back in the day, at good ol' Camp Karankawa, we decided to offer the Journalism Merit Badge at Winter Camp.  That was just yesterday, or 27 years ago.  To help our campers fulfil the Merit Badge requirements we published a camp "newspaper."  As is usually the case the tail was soon wagging the dog, and Eric (you readin' this?  Hi, Eric!) and I were soon more worried about filling up the paper than teaching a merit badge.  We decided it would be funny (it amused US anyway) to review movies that hadn't been released yet.  Next week I'll do my first movie review in this blog.

Back in 1970 or '71, I don't remember the date, a movie called "Night of Dark Shadows" was released.  Okay it was released in '70 and made it's way around the country as movies did in those days.  What I don't remember is when it got to The Lake theater in Lake Jackson, Texas.  What I do remember is that I was standing on the steps with the film canisters when the doors opened.  Did I mention I was a "Dark Shadows" fan?  I don't remember whether it hit The Lake in the summer, or whether movies started their run on Saturdays then, but I do remember those film canisters on the porch, and not having anything better to do than wait for the theater to open.  I guess I was ahead of my time.  Today there'd be a thousand other geeks with sleeping bags, everybody would be dressed as characters, we'd have an all night party, the showing would be at midnight, and I'D BE FIRST IN LINE.  I was the cool guy and didn't know it.

I was also at the last showing, and three in between.  For years, "House of Dark Shadows" was tied with "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" (which came out a few years before, but I seem to remember after) as the movie I had paid to see the most times.  Five each.  That lasted right up until "The Rocky Horror Picture Show."

Anyway, I have a committment tonight, and I have to get up early tomorrow.  But I have every intention of adding my cash to their weekend gross, and next week, I will inflict my opinion on any of you who care to read it here.

But until then, YOU KIDS GET OFF MY LAWN!!!

Random Thoughts

The only sort of thoughts I seem to have nowadays.  I'm takin' another stab at this.  I'm gonna try to do this weekly.  I should have been working on it for an hour or so, but I've been arguing with Facebook instead.  This newfangled interwebz thingy is workin' on my last nerve.  I was planning to gripe about Blogger, but now I have to gripe about Facebook first.

What's this Timeline crap?  A couple weeks ago I got some message from one of those games y'all play telling me I had to "upgrade" to Timeline so it could poke into my information.  I must have clicked the wrong thing, because next thing I knew I was being told I had so many days before my Timeline went live.  Well, my days must be up because it's live.  I've  been looking for the "turn the sumbich off" option.  'Tain't there.  But it tells me "Remember: you can always change who can see any post that appears on your timeline."  Right.  I finally found how to "hide" my friends, and interests (I think..., nope, there they are...) but that's about it.  No luck on "Likes" at all.

Okay, to be ABSOLUTELY honest, I'd like the Timeline, if they weren't forcin' the sumbich down my

throat.

Now back to Blogger, and Blogspot, which appear to be the same thing.  Now I started this with the hope that somebody might actually find it amusing.  (Let me suffer from that delusion just a little longer, why don'tcha?)  Part of the reason for using Blogger, a Google product, was the hope that people who DON'T know me might find it.  Now, how's that s'posed to happen?

Many years ago, perhaps before Google acquired Blogger (hang on, let me be sure ..., I'll Google it)

....

Okay, I'm back.  I had to go to Wikipedia to find anything on Google's acquisition of Blogger.

Go figger.

Many years ago, shortly after Google acquired Blogger, I remember being able to browse blogs (I think we called it "surfing") and just stumble across something interesting now and then.  What happened to that?  And why can't anybody that answers questions on the interwebz actually answer the question that has been asked?  (That's a gripe I have in my work life too.  But the ice is sorta thin over there.  Maybe later?  1017 days?)  When I google "how to browse blogspot" I  can find the question, but the answer always tells how to SEARCH for a blog.  d'UH? There's a "Search Blogs" link that ain't that hard to find.  How do you freakin' BROWSE?  (Maybe I should google "Surf Blogspot"?  Nope.  Got blogs on surfing.)

My cousin has blog that comes up on top of a Google search for his screen name (if I can spell it right.)  He also has a "next blog" link at the top.  It never goes to the same blog. but it usually starts me down a path of similarly themed blogs.  How come I ain't got one of those?  How do I get one? Don't get me wrong, I like y'all.  You're some of the best Facebook friends a guy could ask for.  But you're gonna get sick of readin' this soon enough and I'll need sombody else to inflict it on. 

I do see where I can label this thing "Adult Content."  Do I need to do that if I use terms like "crap,"  sumbich" and "WTF?"  (They actually need a label for "Juvenile Content.")

Anyway, as for my Retirement countdown: 1017 days.  I finally got around to checking a 2015 calendar, and 15 Feb falls on a Sunday.  So my retirement will probably begin officially on the 16th, and my last day worked will probably be Friday the 13th.  How appropriate.

Okay, that's all the griping I can think of (for now,) so you kids GET OFF MY LAWN!!!!

Get off my lawn

I am 55 years old today.  I maintain that I'll be 54 until 6:38 PM, but that's my problem.   I have read that 50 is the new 40.  I have also read that 50 is the new 30.  I like that better.  That makes me the new 33.  I actually meant to start this last year, when I would have been the new 32 years, 4 months and 24 days.  I thought that was funnier.  At least 33 is a symbolic number.  I'd explain that, but then I'd have to kill you.  Have a Rolling Rock for me.

Fifty is the new 50.  I thought of that earlier this year.  At least I thought I thought of it.  Turns out I didn't.  There's a book.  At least I think it's a book: A title and author showed up on Google.  Who has time to read?  I also thought I thought of the title of this blog.  Well, the idea of using it for a blog title.  Turns out somebody's already using it on something called "Public Radio Exchange."  (Sounds liberal to me.)  It seems there are at least 3 other blogs with this title too.  None of them have registered a trademark though.  I think I will.

According to Wikipedia "The phrase (You kids get off my lawn!) presents in a jocularly sarcastic fashion the supposed reaction of an archetypical elderly middle-class homeowner confronting obstreperous teenagers crossing or entering his property. More generally the idiom pokes fun at older conservative bourgeoisie as a class."

Works for me.

A little more about me:  I have a job.  At least (I hope) for the next 2 years, 9 months & 19 days.  It is a job that I don't hate (which I know makes me extremely lucky) but one that severely limits what I can say in public, especially about politics.  I like skating on thin ice however, so as those 1024 days dwindle down, we'll see what happens.  (I just realized I have a kiloday left until retirement.  Half of the 10 kinds of people in the world will be amused by that.)

I'm 55 years old.  I figure I have about 15 good years left, followed by about a decade of steady decline, before I assume room temperature.  I need to do something, so I think I'll blog.  I've thought about it for some time, but I find arrogance a rather distasteful personality trait.  One has to be pretty arrogant to think that anyone might be remotely interested in reading what one has to say.  What the hell.

Now you obstreperous teenagers GET OFF MY LAWN.