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Thursday, February 13, 2014

No Bowling In Dairy Please!

I have resigned myself to the truth that I will live the remainder of my life without any real understanding of anything mechanical, technical or possess knowledge for a repairable skill set.


I stopped watching and drooling over the Shopsmith infomercial.  I will never build furniture, at least a piece that is usable.




I am amazed that I have no real insight as to repercussions from misuse of “mech-tech” things in my life, no matter how small.  I would be the guy that has to be reminded to first unplug the appliance prior to using a butter knife to remove the housing.

Today,millions of Americans living in the new “snow-belt“(Pennsylvania),continue to be glued to local television news-models holding rulers measuring snowflakes.

What I lack in some skills I have needed strengths going into a survival mode when it comes to natural disasters, especially snow-storms. 

My spouse, the true engineer (who possesses the mech-tech skills I lack) would stand out in the snow, as it piles up around her dazed and confused as to her next move.

You need to go out and fetch her before she becomes a Popsicle.

I have found North Carolina to be the poster-child for lack of snowstorm prep. Before I continue to appear to be insulting to the Great State of Tar Heel, I am attempting to instill into the population survival skills so they too do not become Popsicles.

I really love North Carolina, the country is beautiful and the people I have met are so very nice.  I am truly pleased that 3 of my grandgirls live there.
 
I would be proud to call NC my 2nd home.
I watch, in horror, snowstorm videos of the great citizens of Raleigh-Durham in a struggle against all odds pushing cars along highways in an attempt to get home.
We all know what comes next; we need to find a blameable person for this disaster.
A few years’ ago we spent Christmas in Greensboro with our grandgirls and their handlers.  On Christmas Eve snow fell and by the morning we looked out the window to what appeared to be a Thomas Kinkade painting.  It was all too beautiful and peaceful until the other shoe fell.
My son-in-law informed us there was only 1 snowplow in the entire Piedmont Triad and if we need to get to our hotel it would be required that we grab a shovel, remove snow from a 150’ driveway then proceed to clear a path along 2 streets (uphill...both ways!) to a main road.  

Snow is really just an afterthought, tax dollars never allocated.  They are not prepared.
This week I went into full prep mode, certain to gather my French-Toast ingredients 2 days prior to the masses, vehicles gassed-up, windshield cleaner-reservoirs filled, new batteries applied, technology all charged-up. 

I was ready to handle the next wave of this years’ “storm-of-the-century”.
I even had rush shipment on a Valentines gift to be certain the UPS guy could deliver one day ahead of the storm and I would not have the lame excuse that “your gift is arriving soon, honest!”.
There is an elderly woman who knows I spend some time each day walking in the elements and was concerned that I would slip and fall so she purchased a gift for me, slip-on shoe stabilizers made for walking in icy conditions.  I must say I was skeptical at first but L.L. Bean surely knows their stuff. I am so truly thankful for the present and have barely removed them over the past few weeks.  

This causes conflict when I forget to remove them upon entry into my foyer.

 I was food shopping for the impending doom (usually done at 5:30 AM) in our local 24/7 supermarket while normal folks actually sleep, gathering a few last minute items.

I was moving along holding onto one of those “mini carts” when it happened, I became a human bowling ball in the dairy aisle.
Cart overturned, groceries and reading glasses scattering in all directions while I rolled down a newly waxed linoleum highway like a curled up armadillo.

Fortunately there were no old ladies at the end or I would have made a 7-10 split.
As I lay there wondering if I had a witness, trying desperately to recall my lawyers phone number, I came to the realization that the blameable was yours truly!
Not paying attention to my wearable tech-mech I forgot to remove my L.L. Bean stabilizers, the cleats and waxed linoleum flooring were not made for a good marriage. 

It was at that point that I was happy to not have a witness and hoped that security cameras were not capturing the next potential America’s Funniest Home Video grand prizewinner.
I quickly picked myself up, cleaned up my own mess and slinked on through the self-serve aisle as quickly as possible.
Let me know if you find this disaster on You Tube.
It will probably be titled “No Bowling in Dairy You Idiot”.


  

Sunday, February 9, 2014

This Date in History


My boss, Joseph A. Carter and I usually have an open season on any topic of discussion.  We know each other well, have worked together for many years and are as polar opposed on as many subjects as were are in agreement on others.

Regardless he refers to me as the poster-boy of contrarianism, and he is wrong of course.

Actually his observation is somewhat true, I rarely follow the herd, nor do I care if daggers are hurled in my direction because of my oppositions. 

I am content.






So today is the golden anniversary of the Beatles invasion into the US, and reliving the anticipation as we all gathered around the old Philco black and white awaiting their first appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show.   
I had a recent discussion over our mutual affection for the boys from Liverpool when something in the timeline hit home.  Joe mentioned that he was a great fan of the Fab Four from day one, I, on the other hand, had a liking but did not really become a fan for another year.

You guessed it, I was a kid contrarian!


My conversion to mega fan did not take too long, especially since girls my age were already smitten and the pangs of puberty dictated a lessening of contrary opinion if I were to make any inroads into the estrogen jungle.

Contrarians can also be pragmatic if the dangling carrot is the correct one.

The discography of the Beatles is a most impressive body of work, with songs covered by so many artists.   
Awards and kudos abound and deserving so.

I think I know every song they ever recorded, and they play periodically in my mind.

I have even caught myself singing some of their “songs-we-need-to-forget”, too few to mention. They may not have batted 1000 but they at least hovered in the 900's.  
Even the greatest among us can have their less than stellar moments giving all of us mortals hope.

Many thanks to the Beatles for 50 years of great music and memories.