Today is the Day

You know, I'm sitting here thinking about the last 50 years.  Well, that's not really right....I'm probably only thinking about the last 40 years or so.  I really don't remember much between the ages of birth and 10.  There is a part of me that believes if I continue to consume adult beverages at the rate I am currently consuming them I might not be able to remember what I did last week....but that's another story.

They say, .......and no I don't know who 'they' are and I highly doubt 'they' even exist.  Perhaps 'they' are aliens who live in some parallel dimension and materialize every now and then to offer cute expressions, such as:  A penny saved is a penny earned, Waste not Want not, All Lanes End - MERGE NOW!  Anyway, 'they' say life is much like a poker game.  You have to play the hand you are dealt.....and the game changes several times...from good to bad and back again.  If I may have a moment to "wax philosophical" here...I have to say I agree because I have noticed over the years that some things have changed:

SOCIAL NETWORKS
It appears that we are now at a point where we actually believe other folks care about what we do every moment of the day.  We must 'post' to inform everyone of everything.  What we are eating, what we are doing, whether or not toilet paper is on sale, whether or not we like a television show, and what clothes we are wearing.  Really?  Are people really interested in the fact we are 'sitting by the lake with a cold beverage' at 3:00 on a Tuesday afternoon?  The answer is YES!  Post that and hundreds of people will respond with things like:

Man, I wish I was there!  :0)
LOL LOL LOL I bet it's an ADULT cold beverage!
Don't you people have jobs?  It's Tuesday!

As a child, my idea of a 'social network' was the shanty (and that is the proper way to describe it) that Petee, Dwight, Craig, and my brother Chris built in the empty field across the street from our house.  Seriously, we found whatever type of building material we could and built what, by today's terrorist standards, would be considered upscale living.  We used old signs, tarps, sheetrock, tires, whatever we could find.  At one point, I remember coming home from school and finding (I am not making this up) a notice nailed to the side of the building from the crack team of building inspectors employed by the City of Lake Charles stating it did not 'meet code' and had to be demolished.  There was a house on my street that had an extension cord running from the power pole to the main breaker on the house....THAT was fine, our 'social network' was not.
 
CELLULAR PHONES
Are we really that busy?  Do we really need to be accessible 100% of the time to the point we need to excuse ourselves during our grandchilds' baptism to answer a call from the cretin in the loading dock who doesn't know where in the warehouse to put the case of tar that just came in?  Is it that pressing?  Is it that critical?  Is he a moron?  Now, I did not have gainful employment in my youth, but I do remember my Dad coming home and not worrying about a phone call from his office.  No, my Dad worried about a call from the "Answering Service".... or as they are also known "Satan's Minions".  If the phone rang after 5pm we were allowed to answer, but if the voice on the other end said "This is the answering service" we immediately went into alert mode.  That kind of call had simple handling instructions:
FIND DAD.  Don't do anything else, FIND DAD.

How did we communicate with our parents?  We had a very sophisticated system....if the street lights were on, our butts were in the house.  How did your parents 'notify' you to come inside?  They flicked the porch light off and on...and GOD HELP YOU if you didn't see it.  You could be 5 blocks away....doesn't matter, when the porch light started blinking you best get inside. 

COMPUTERS
I remember my first experience with a computer.  It was at college, and I was taking a FORTRAN class.  Remember that?  We typed into a computer the size of a Trailblazer code like this:

****output for Name

Write  (11, *) If M= %^#®®β copy NOT >frame< feedme::Say (@ hueydueylouie)-Ifnot: ^*`RUNFAST^whofarted?~~ieudslmcb

End

Stop

Really

Stop

End

These were printed on 1400 punch cards.  They were then placed in another computer the size of Rhode Island and I would wait with anticipation for that computer to spit out a 16x20 piece of paper.

What I wanted was the computer to print out my name....which it did, only it was misspelled.

Then there's GOOGLE....man's answer to the Library Card Catalog System.  If we wanted to find out something, we had to actually look up the title of a book, then locate the index card (which was placed in one of the 11,000 drawers mounted on the wall) and then write down the number which would tell us where the book was located. Using the Dewey Decimal System, someone needing a book on say.....nose hair, would discover that particular book had the number 134.5498.~5454.nose.aeiou.  This number indicated the book should be located on the fourth floor, section N, shelf 1, space R.  Of course, it was not there because no one understood the Dewey Decimal System so all the books just got shoved on those little grey carts that were scattered at strategic points and left in the middle of the aisle.

TELEVISION
Many folks have had fun remembering the TV has changed dramatically over the last several years.  When I was growing up....THREE channels...with two of them always running the same show of some guy with an accordion.  Today I have 172 channels.  Really, I do.  Why?  Well, my family likes a total of 5 channels.  One local, one news, one specialty (HGTV), one SuperStation, and one kids network.  To get those five, I had to subscribe to:

The BASIC Package
The LOCAL CHANNEL Package (for local channels....duh!)
The EXTENDED BASIC Package (for network news)
The OVEREXTENDED Package (for specialty)
The DELUXE Package (for SuperStation)
The BADGER Package (for Kids Network)

This costs me $70 per month...and no, I can't get it cheaper because to get each of the single channels I like, I must by the other 15 additional channels in that package.  So in addition to the 5 I like to watch, I get these:

The Armadillo Channel
The Really Cool Relentless Explosions Channel
The Lawn and Shrub Channel
The Static Channel
The Skinny Models Wearing Bikinis and Exercising Channel
The Obscure Sports Channel
The Chuck Norris Buy This Exercise Equipment You Tub of Lard Channel
The No One Speaks English Channel
500 Pay per view Porn Channels

What a deal I have.....right?

The last 50 years have seen a great many changes....and I would expect the next 50 to do the same.

It really is true, the more things change....the more confused we become to the point of anger.
The older I get the more content I become with what is....and the less I worry about what is not or what might be.  Life is about the journey.....not the destination....and every journey has it's problems.  I guess we just have to remember that without the difficult times....we may not appreciate the good times.

I think Jimmy Buffett said it best, "some of it's magic, some of it's tragic, but I've had a good life all the way"

I have....and it's been a wonderful ride.....looking forward to more.

That's HUNGER....Box 17B Radio City Center*

I realize that the older I get the less I care about being on a strict schedule.  Specifically, I don't really care if I eat supper at 6:30 or 8:30...just as long as I eat, I'm good.  That doesn't always work for others.

My day typically ends between 5:30 and 6:00pm.  I get home and have the same few things that must be done daily:

1.  Check on my fountain.  Make sure it has water, make sure the pump is running, make sure there isn't anything dead in it.
2.  Repair whatever damage the dogs have done to the fence, and other parts of the backyard.
3.  Check the mail to see if I have another exclusive offer (available to only me and my imaginary roommate named 'occupant') to take advantage of 0% interest on all balance transfers.
4.  Pour a glass of Merlot and watch while my 8 year old sprays water at random on herself, the house, the fence, the fountain, the dogs and in the air while attempting to water the 4 flower plants in the middle of the yard.
5.  Look around to see if my wife has made it home.
Somewhere during this time, my oldest daughter will approach me with a sad look on her face.

Good Evening.  She will deadpan
What's Up?
I am hungry, when will I be fed?
I am assuming 'eventually' isn't the answer you are looking for right?
Are you listening?  I'm hungry!
Last time I looked, the kitchen was that way...just to the south of the front door.
I don't want to cook....I want to eat.
I think they go hand in hand.
FEED ME.
Here, (pointing to the tasteful display of Sun Dried Tomato and Basil Triscuits on the patio table) have a cracker.
I don't want a cracker, I want FOOD!
A cracker isn't food?
DAD!  I'm hungry!
Some wine then?
DAD! You have to feed me!  It's the law!
You see that 'mobile instrument of death' you call a Chevy Cobalt?  It can be programmed to carry you away to wonderful worlds of food enjoyment.....many of which offer the opportunity to secure food without actually leaving the protected space of the front seat.
I don't want go anywhere....wait, I do...but I don't have any money. 
Really?  I believe you possess a couple of small 2x4 sections of plastic that will allow you to procure food, and really almost anything else, on nothing more than your signature.
I'M HUNGRY!  FEED ME!
(while munching on a Triscuit)  I believe I am attempting to do that very thing.

Now, at this point my wife surfaces from wherever she has been hiding and joins the conversation.  She is enjoying a glass of fine chardonnay, helps herself to one of the crackers while adding some fine cheese to my tasteful display on the table.
I turn my attention to my 8 year old, currently soaked to the skin, and wonder why I didn't just give her a bar of soap and have her shower right there in the backyard.  Of course, the flowers are still dry.

Are you people going to eat!?  My daughter will ask.
"Eventually" is the answer my wife offers.
I inform my wife that I had discovered earlier that's not the right answer.
"At some point" is her follow up.
I'm hungry NOW
You see that 'fine example of Detroit Automotive Excellence' parked in the driveway?
I stop her....been there, done that.
I'm going make a sandwich.
Now, you would think that at this point I'd stop her and make some decisions about supper.  You would think that I would save her the anguish and pain of having to actually create her own meal. 

You'd think that, but you'd be wrong. 

I wait just long enough for her to get inside, take everything out of the refrigerator, and then I announce I would like to go to Outback Steakhouse.
"So, you want to come or do you have your heart set on that sandwich?" I ask very sincerely.

If I really want to pick on her....I act like she has to pay for her meal.

*quoted from Robert Klein  

That's what you told me to do

Dad's just think different.  Seriously, it's not that we are dumb....we just process things in a different manner. 

My wife will say, "My tire is low."
Which one?
"The one on the left in the front"
I will go outside, take my air pump and air up...THE LEFT FRONT TIRE.
Later in the day she will ask, "Did you air up my tire?"
Yes, right after you said something.  Why?
"I still have a tire pressure warning going off."
Are the other ones low?
"You didn't check them?" (making the "face"...and every married man knows what I mean)
You didn't say they were all low...you said the left front was low.

My wife will announce, "Michelle need to bring 12 plastic eggs to school".
It's 9:45 at night, you just remembered this?
"Don't we have some here?"
I'm sure we do....somewhere in the attic.
"Just go to Walgreens and get them"
Right......so, I schlep to Walgreens and get a package of 12 plastic eggs. 
The next night, my wife asks "what kind of candy did you put in the eggs?  Her teacher prefers we not put anything chocolate because it might melt."
Candy?
"You didn't put candy in them?" (again, the face)
You didn't say anything about candy....you said 12 eggs.

My wife will announce she is going exercise.  "Make sure Michelle finishes her homework."
Yea, I got it.
Homework for a 9 year old consists of math problems like this:
Greta has 2 pizzas cut into 8 slices each.  One pizza is cheese, one is hamburger.  Schmendrick has 4 apples cut into 4 pieces each.  Eustis has a baseball bat and a napkin.  If on Tuesday Greta and Schmendrick forget the combination to their locker how much pizza could 10 of their friends eat after Eustis makes applesauce with his baseball bat? **
Homework is finished....Michelle goes to sleep.  My wife returns.
"Homework is done?"
Yes
"Did you check it?"
Check it?

See...men are hunters, gatherers, protectors and analyzers.  We continuously work through multiple problems in our head.  Critical things like:  -Did I change the oil in the lawnmower?  -Did I repair the damaged part of the roof? - Who is this child in my living room, and where is the child I normally see sitting there?  We must work off of specific questions and instructions in order to insure the safety and serenity of our home...AND to insure we can be finished with all that nonsense in time for kickoff.

Not wrong.....just different.

**(The answer is Butte, Montana)

Sun block

Please don't send me angry emails or tell me I'm crazy.  I believe in Sunblock.....ESPECIALLY for children.  That's a big step for someone my age....we used to go to the beach and burn ON PURPOSE.  "It'll turn brown", we would say as we peel layers of skin off our legs, "just need more Noxzema."
Noxzema?  Remember that stuff?  Might as well have smeared lard on the burn.

Anyway, while I agree sunblock is important, I also believe we have overdone it a bit.  Here is the official definition of "SPF" - These numbers refer to the product's ability to screen or block out the sun's burning rays. It is a common mistake to assume that the duration of effectiveness of a sunscreen can be calculated simply by multiplying the SPF by the length of time it takes for him or her to suffer a burn without sunscreen, because the amount of sun exposure a person receives is dependent upon more than just the length of time spent in the sun.

So, the 'ability to screen or block out the sun's burning rays' is measured in SPF numbers....but don't take them literally or seriously because they are typically wrong, and you will burn to a crisp like bacon on a skillet....and that would be bad. So rabid moms run to the Coppertone aisle every summer.

"I've got to get protection for Bleemish" one will say "he has such a fair skin tone we make him drink ink in order to see him."  "Little Nostradamus is the same", another chimes in "he burns when he sits under the light on the ceiling."  "Why don't we just get a lot of beer and sit under a tree?" says the only dad on the aisle.  He is attacked by the mob, quickly gutted and left to die right there in front of the baby wipes.

For those who need help, here is a simple SPF rating along with the contents of each bottle:

SPF 0 to 15 (usually a spray, making it easy to get it in your eyes where it will burn like fire for 24 hours)
- You can stay inside, but avoid light bulbs larger than 75 watts.
SPF 15 to 50 (usually a lotion, making it easy to waste because you always get more out than you need and if you put it all on you would look like you have some sort of skin condition)
 - You can go outside; but avoid the sun's rays, reflections of the sun's rays, and any area not shaded.
SPF 50 - 75 (usually some sort of new lotion/spray combination designed by a cretin without kids.  you get 3 sprays and then the nozzle clogs so you end up pouring it on a paper towel and wiping it on your child)
- You never make it outside because the damn sunblock is some sort of alien color (like purple) and it won't dissolve so Randolph looks like some sort of  Barney Zombie)
SPF 75 - 100 (usually a long sleeve T-Shirt and a ski mask)
- You are free to commit armed robbery

I just look for a tree with a place to set the cooler down........

Hitting on me

I have never claimed to be what you would call 'good looking'.  You know....the Burt Reynolds type.  I'm not even sure if I equate to Bert from Sesame Street.  However....I have found as I get older that women (yes, I meant that to be plural) sometimes take an interest in me.  However my problem is two-fold:

1. - I usually don't get it.
2. - When I do get it....no one believes me.

For example, I told my daughter of this event:

I just got hit on.
Really?  Did it leave a bruise?
What?  Not that kind of hit....the other kind.
Yea....OK Dad
I'm not kidding....it really happened
OK Dad....details.....
I was at the Eye Doctor
(interrupting me) No no....that's the problem...she couldn't see you
Shut up...she could and she did
Yea....OK...continue
Anyway, I went in to have my glasses fixed and when she was finished I asked her how much and she said, "we don't charge for adjusting if you bought them here".  I said thank you and she said, "no problem, I'd be happy to adjust you anytime"  and she winked at me!
(making a sarcastic face) seriously?  she was trying to sell you something
NO....it was free
Did she have something in her eye?
NO dammit......
OK...so, what did this (making the finger movements) "person" look like?
What's with the hands.....you think I made this up?
I'm just saying Mr "UPS only right turns guy" (more on this later)
I'm telling you.....
(interrupting me) OK OK....so she hit on you....what did she look like
She was HOT
OK Dad.....she was...what 55 or so, nearsighted, half blind and desperate...I got it
You know, there are plenty of folks who find me attractive.....
Really?  Name 3.....and they have to be alive, single, and not a member of a religious order

Several days earlier I had this conversation while sitting with my son:

Dude, check it out....she's scoping me out
What?!  'scoping you out'....who?
The woman over there in the short black dress....she's checking me out
What woman?  Dad....what are looking at?  She is not looking at you...no one wants to look at you
The woman over there....in the black dress with the heels....she wants me
What?!  Dad she is not looking at you...why would she do that?  Why would anyone?
She wants me....
Dad...you are seriously deranged
I'm telling you....look at her looking at me....she wants me.
She is NOT looking at you....and NOBODY wants you....you're old
Really?  Then why is she always looking at me?  Huh? Answer that one smarty..
Because maybe we're in CHURCH and she doesn't have a choice but look in this direction!
Oh sure, make up an excuse
Seriously....get some help

Then there was this conversation with my wife

Hey, you know the lady who lives in the red house three doors down?
Yea.......
She came out to get her mail just as I was getting ours...and she was in a bikini...
(making a face that says "you have lost your mind") A bikini?
Yup....and she made sure I saw her...she said 'hello' and waved......she wants me.
Really?  She can have you.  Leave your key on the table.


It is this unwavering support from my family that keeps my spirits upbeat.