1/25/2013

Well, I didn't get a post written last week, and I'm late with this one.  I was at a Masonic meeting (of all things) last Saturday, and I had two people mention reading my blog.  Actually, they said they enjoy it, but of course I don't believe that.  I'm sure it's just like watching a train wreck.  You want to look away, but you just can't.  But it made me think I might consider putting a little more thought into what I write here.

Nah!!!!!

Right now it's 9:56 PM and I can hear my cat Bandit in the hall.  She's obviously walking around with her "baby."  I can hear it in her voice.  When I posted her video, I discovered that Blogger doesn't post a video as a still picture.  I've been trying to put a picture in each post for a while, but didn't have one for today.  I got one of Bandit earlier tonight, right after she dropped the "baby."  If my iPhone ever shows up under "My Computer" I'll post it here.

Bandit and her "Baby"

It's been a busy two weeks.  I had Masonic functions the last two Saturdays and Grand Lodge is next weekend.  (And I need to find my credentials.  Newfoundland and Labrador must be represented.)  At work, the deadline for Annual and Supplemental Reports is coming fast, and we also have elections in March and April.  And to top it all off, I'm in the process of moving.  Fortunately, I already started a post for next week (actually I started it for two weeks ago) on New Years Eve.  Maybe I'll use it.

Well, it's 10:49 PM and I can retire in 751 days, so you kids get off my lawn.

Kenny Nau 1962 - 2012

It's Friday, I'm on my lunch break, and I don't feel like being a smart ass today.  A good friend of mine passed away on the last day of the year, and will be buried tomorrow.  I've been trying to find some appropriate words since I learned of his passing.  No luck yet.  But that doesn't stop me.

http://nidayfunerals.com/obits/?p=5485

Kenny was about 5 years younger than me, but in my mind he has always been a kid.  I guess that's the way the mind works.  I knew him from Scouting.  We worked on Camp Staff together, attended many Order of the Arrow functions, all the things Scouts and Scouters do.  I participated in his Vigil Honor ceremony, but the details are fuzzy now.  That's another thing the mind does.

Over the last 30 or so years it seems, to what passes for my memory nowadays, that I only saw Kenny at funerals.  I'm sure we both served as pall bearers for friends on more than one occasion.  These are only a couple of the reasons I regret the fact that I won't be at his funeral tomorrow.  A 500 mile round trip and prior committments just make it untenable.  I know Kenny is in a better place, and that his family and friends will understand.

What I really regret is not having had ..., no, made the time to communicate over the years.  I'm not sure what more I want to say about that.  Time is the one thing you can't get back.

I'm glad they chose this picture for his funeral notice.  This is the Kenny I remember.

Well, I can retire in 765 days, and I don't really care about the lawn.

Farewell my Brother.  I'll miss you.

Resolutions

This will be scheduled to post on Friday, but I'm writing on the last day of the year, so my mind naturally turns to resolutions.  In the 54 new year's just passed I have made and kept precisely one resolution.  That was to never again drink beer and tequila in the same night.  I'm pretty sure that requires no further elaboration.

I have made and not kept many, but haven't made any big deal of them.  I guess I now have the opportunity to make a few in a very public forum.  Hmmm.

So I'm sitting here at 7:30 on New Year's Eve, contemplating the year to come, and whether or not to resolve.  I could resolve to finally write a novel this year ... nah, who am I kiddin'.  I could resolve to get a blog posted by 4:45 PM every Friday of the year.  That's 52 blog posts!  I can't do that.  (Y'all can thank me next year.)  I could resolve to blog something interesting once a month.  If I managed to blog every week that would be close to 25 percent.  Not a great batting average, but way ahead of Sturgeon's Law.

Friday

Oh, well.  I didn't make any resolutions.  I thought about listing a bunch that I didn't make, but they've all slipped my mind.  Once again, I'm just trying to get this posted by my self-imposed deadline.

You may have noticed I'm using the name "Rasputin."  Several years ago, while I was acting supervisor at Big Charity, and still had hair, a guy walked into my office.  It must have been "one of those days" (which most were, and still are) because what hair I had left must have been pretty disheveled.  At least that's what I put it down to.  Anyway, this guy took one look at me and exclaimed "Rasputin!"  One of my Network Techs happened to be with him, and the nickname stuck.

And, since I'm trying to include at least one picture with each blog, here you go:

Now, I can retire in 772 days, and you kids get off my lawn!

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.