Archive for the ‘A Funny Thing Happened’ Category

Come Into The Closet

April 12, 2011

Years ago, I’ll never forget it as long as I live, when my beagle was alive, I learned there was truth in Pavlov’s theory. On the first night after the basement was finished and the bedroom moved down there and it was time to hit the hay, Wiffy was nowhere to be found. Usually she was under my feet, whether I was sitting on the couch or trying to navigate on foot, going from one room to another, trying not to trip over her and certainly at bedtime she was in my spot, making herself so big, I had to squeeze into whatever space remained. So, that night, I found her, standing, with a dumbfounded WTF look on her face at the indentation in the carpet where the foot of the bed was just hours before. She knew it was bedtime, but hadn’t registered the move yet. I entered the room and all she could do was helplessly look to me for guidance until I convinced her to follow me to where she could once again make herself huge to the point there was room for only her on the bed.

Well, Ariel has that same look on his face when he tries to find his clothes. They’re no longer in the small closet. I shouldn’t pick on him though, he’ll get it eventually. I, on the other hand, after more than twelve years, still choose the wrong switch in a 2, 3 or 4 gang; the singles I’ve finally gotten the hang of.  And there’s the ever famous incident of wandering aimlessly into the living room, pondering my reason for being there, only to realize I meant to go into the bathroom. (I think that’s a different condition altogether, something Pavlov couldn’t help with). And then of course there’s the ribbing I get all the time about touching the wrong button on a remote control or the computer. As a matter of fact, while I was writing, I went to open Internet Explorer, hit the Start button and followed through without realizing what I was doing until the screen went dark. Duh!

I’m still working on transferring my music from iPod to iPod and as I’m working on it, I’m questioning whether there might not be an easier way but I’m having a good time doing it. It was bit of a convoluted process. First I had to realize that if I transferred my stored music files from my external drive to my iTunes library, all 6 thousand some songs would end up on my mSpot program on my Droid. So, with my PD Rescue program (which I recommend highly for anyone who’s got invaluable music files) I was able to input the contents of my old iPod into iTunes on my laptop (not associated with mSpot). I was able to pick and choose what got moved, so I eliminated four hundred and some Christmas songs from moving. Not that I don’t like Christmas music, but invariably, one of the umpteen versions of “The Little Drummer Boy”–one of my least favorite Christmas songs….EVER!!!–will play at an inopportune time. Plus, because the new iPod is an iPod Touch, I want to have album art for all my stuff and that’s taking some time to collect.

I don’t have a smooth closer so I’ll just show you this video I saw on Ellen last night.

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Then There Was That Man

March 30, 2011

PART 3: THE CONCLUSION

We arrived finally at our hotel, tired and chilled and somewhat satisfactorily sated from something that resembled a frankfurter on a stale bun, rang the security bell, and said good night once again to the desk clerk who was on duty earlier and had let us in a few hours prior after the concert.

Our room, 112 was just steps from the elevator, possibly 2 giant steps (May I?). We walked in and the first thing that caught my attention was an uncomfortable putrid odor and I closed the door behind us. One of us must have gotten quick action from our midnight snack, but it wasn’t me.  All at once, my mind was occupied with taking off my jacket, trying to identify whatever that increasingly sickening stench was and registering the  words Ariel just spoke “What is this? Who is that?”   My head reeled in a sudden fog, my teeth clenched and the hair on the back of neck  stood up when I saw before me a strange man, sprawled out face down, naked and covered in feces on one of the beds.

 Our gazes were fixed momentarily, as we tried to assess the situation and makes sense out of what we were seeing until we composed ourselves enough to return to the front desk. In spite of Ariel’s pleas that we remain as calm as possible, I blurted out the description of what we just left behind to the front desk clerk and  her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.  She finally realized we weren’t joking around and called the police and then the hotel’s security manager came out from his office He interrogated us as to whether we knew him, or gave him our key, if we left our door open. The first to respond was the fire department and they took off when the police arrived and they were followed the first aid squad.

While we waited in the lobby to see what would develop, the desk clerk tried valiantly to find us a room elsewhere in town because this hotel was all booked up for that wedding on Sunday, the one that caused the ridiculous registration rigamarole when I was trying to check in. There’s a punch line in here. Wait for it… (as if a naked man in a “fecal” position wasn’t enough!)

At least forty-five minutes had gone by and she was unable to get a satisfactory answer from anyone, including her manager whom she roused out of a sound sleep on the phone and finally Captain Craptastick was being wheeled through the lobby on a stretcher, awake and sitting up, wrapped in a robe and obviously incoherent. He was stone cold drunk out of his mind! That’s what one of the paramedics told us and one of the cops who spoke with us could just about contain a laugh when he realized it was our room that had been violated.

Finding a room for us was becoming an obvious impossibility and the entire situation knocked the tired right out of us and we decided to go home. It really made no sense at that point to get a room anywhere in the city because by the time check out time would have come around, we would have only gotten a few hours sleep anyway. We were finally allowed to go  back into our room to gather our belongings, except one shirt of mine that was otherwise soiled and Ariel’s toothbrush on the sink,  and though it was seemingly untouched, he left it among the detritus in the equally soiled bathroom.

Back in the lobby, we crossed paths with the man’s wife, who wasn’t operating on all cylinders herself, whether from likewise over-imbibing,  suffering the embarrassment her drunken husband was causing or possibly from wondering how this would effect their daughter’s wedding the next day. Yes, this was the family that was checking in when we arrived! In a turn of simple compassion, after Ariel demanded from this woman to know her name, rather than add to her obvious misery, which it looked like he was about to do, only offered her good luck, to which she sorrowfully responded, “Thanks. I think I’m gonna need it”.  Breaks my heart, really, to think of the innocent parties involved, namely, the poor bride.

In conclusion, we arrived home just after 5 in the morning. The hotel couldn’t even validate or offer to pay our parking fee so we could get the truck and go home; they aren’t affiliated with that garage. That was the least of our concerns, but we made it home without incident and in one piece and we’d have to leave Chock Full Of Nuts for another time.

There are two trains of thought: one being that  there was a glitch in the key card code, or as the hotel suggested, which I would imagine they would have to, we left our door ajar. That was their take on it when they called Sunday afternoon, but I remember distinctly closing that door with the doorhandle in  my hand because when we went out the first time, for dinner and the concert, the door slammed behind us and  echoed throughout the hallway.  I remembered that when we left to meet up with the guys and held the door from slamming. It was after 11:30 at night and didn’t want to be “that guy” with disregard for everyone else.   

Well, the hotel offered us a complimentary two-night stay nonetheless to be used all at one time or on two separate occasions to make up for the inconvenience. And the last report of the father of the bride–he was released from the hospital on Sunday evening where was treated for severe alcohol poisoning and returned to his family who was still staying at the hotel. And in retrospect, as Ariel pointed out, thank God that man wasn’t dead otherwise we would have been unwittingly dragged into a police investigation. Now, THAT would have been something to write about!

Creatures Of The Night

March 29, 2011

 

PART 2:   I loved Stevie Nicks, she looks fabulous and she even treated us to her trademark twirl. The audience erupted when she sang “Stand Back” and we nearly tore the roof off the place once “Edge of Seventeen” began. That would have been the perfect finale, but she sang a song she had begun writing before 9/11 and found its meaning relevant in today’s world climate. Not being familiar with it, and it being a ballad, it kind of brought the mood down some. But the evening belonged to Rod Stewart, he really had the place rockin’ from start to finish. As you saw in the pictures yesterday, he had Stevie Nicks join him on stage for a few numbers. With the exception of a few new songs each, their sets were made up of their classic stuff and his finale was “Do You Think I’m Sexy”. I was surprised how many Rod Stewart songs I knew and actually enjoyed, even though I never would have considered myself a bona fide fan.

We were meeting friends from Brooklyn after the show to hang out and knock back a couple of drinks who I finally got a hold of on the phone. Apparently I had an incorrect number and found out about that on Sunday morning when after I sent another text message, the owner of that number called to tell me I’ve been texting and calling and that I should double-check my number.

We walked from The Garden down to our Hotel on 21st Street to get out of our dinner/concert clothes and put on something more suitable for barhopping and then it was back to 28th Street, by foot and our friends were running late. By just around midnight they got there and we kibitzed the night away, every now and then dodging a pistoning pool cue. Well, it was a stupid move for the bar to  have moved the pool table to that end of the bar rather than have left it in the vast barren area it was in just three weeks ago. The four of us made plans to possibly see a show starring two actors from the now defunct Guiding Light, Robert Newman and Kim Zimmer, who recently reprised her role as Echo DeSavoy on One Life To Live.

Should we get one more round? Should we go? Gabe and Mike were leaving, it was nigh on three AM but the lure of another beer won us over plus I was desparate to tag one good song on the Shazam app on my Droid, like I do everytime we go there, but Shazam wasn’t recognizing anything. They play such incredible underground club music there. I was beginning to feel a little hungry so we hurried through those beers, got out coats and left. I was seeking out a hot dog truck on the way back from the concert, one that wasn’t embroiled in the melee of the helter skelter pedestrian traffic so close to The Garden, but there wasn’t one to be found until, like a mirage in the desert, we happened upon one a few blocks from the club, with everything under the sun available on it. It was situated on a corner outside of yet another club for the, shall we say, younger set… and if I really didn’t need something in my stomach, I would have continued back to the room, but we suffered the insufferable public displays of drunkenness and the mingling of police presence to maintain order. Once the hot dog vender recovered from getting knocked almost off his feet from some washed out drunken female club-goer (at least I think it was a she) crashing into him after she wrestled herself free from a policeman’s grasp and yelling at him with inaudible words, we were able to order two dogs each. I had to have mine without relish. He didn’t have any. Why is it  always relish they run out of? And there was the trio of younger guys, two of which kept trying to keep the third one, who was quite verbal about being turned down repeatedly for prospective female company from meeting one of those Kamikaze New York taxicabs face to face.  

It’s a whole new world, New York City,  in the wee hours of the morning. The most colorful characters come out to play and are mightily highlighted in the dead of night. Well, they’re probably always there, but they just don’t shine under the camouflage of daylight. And still, there was that man…

Stand Back, Maggie May!

March 28, 2011

Gather ‘round boys and girls, Uncle Brian has a tale to tell, one with a surprise twist ending you will not believe. Let us turn back the clock…back, back, all the way back to this past Saturday. We begin our story with part one of three  on the day we were going to see Stevie Nicks and Rod Stewart in concert at Madison Square Garden.

We stopped off on the way for a couple of hours to have lunch with Ariel’s parents in Newark and his niece was also stopping by with the baby. In a comedy of errors, because they didn’t see us parked in the yard, Baby Rita, Juan and the baby went to do some shopping and didn’t arrive until after they learned on the phone we had been there waiting for them over two hours. The baby is getting so big, learning how to roll himself over and trying desperately to sit up on his own. And there are signs of teething.

The drive into the city was uneventful, the likes of which rarely ever happens, but it was the right time of day, apparently. With a little help from Ingrid (my GPS) to fine tune our navigation to the Desmond Tutu Center we made it from Newark to our destination in under twenty minutes. A dream, really.

While Ariel waited in the truck, I went with his paperwork to sign in but before I could, there were several members from a wedding party registering and it was like the circus had come to town. It was chaos from the word GO, deciding who was staying with whom in each room, announcing who had yet not arrived, who was arriving when and with whom. I patiently awaited my turn while the husband of the younger couple in said party reprimanded his wife for advancing to the desk out of turn.

“Are you being helped?” I was asked, once the lobby was vacated. “No, not yet,” I said. “I’m so sorry,” desk lady said and then told me that Ariel would have to sign in himself since it was his name on the reservation and luckily there was a parking deck right across the street. More waiting.

But the room was well worth enduring the confusion. Take a look. Somehow we got upgraded to the Ricardo Pivirotto Room, Room 112.

    

                          

Even with our dinner reservations in our immediate future, not to mention the concert, I was counting down the minutes until morning so I could get to use that coffee maker. We even made plans for before we would leave for home to hunt down that Chock Full Of Nuts Lunch Counter that recently opened up on the East end of 23rd Street so I could re-blog about it first hand. But, there was that man…

Dinner was at Frankie & Johnnie’s. They sat us at a tiny table sandwiched between two others to the utter disapproval of the uppity gentleman next to us. If looks could kill, we’d both be pushing up daisies at an alarming rate and he grunted out a conversation with his wife through the rest of their dinner.

Through the controlled chaos we found our seats with little effort, got two beers from the vendor guy walking around and struck up a little conversation with the grandmother set in front of us, but they were having the best time.

And right at 7:30, the show started. Rod Stewart came out and introduced Stevie Nicks and she did over an hour of mostly her classic stuff, with only maybe three new songs. I realized at intermission I didn’t have the macro setting engaged on my camera, and the first few pictures of her might be a little fuzzy. By the time Rod Stewart came out I was more in control of my camera and got a little bit better quality shots. But I was watching a woman in the row ahead of me with a camera that zoomed in so close, the images of the singers filled her entire display window.  I was impressed, but I’m not altogether dissatisfied with what I got from my own camera.

            

      

To Beefeater Or To Not Beefeater

December 8, 2010

I guess there’s a sort of benefit to having a constant unchanging expression on one’s face. No one can really ever tell if you’re happy, sad, mad or are about to snap! It comes in handy, though, I’ll tell you that. And I guess I should have employed it at dinner on Friday night, only for the sake of not having that constant confusion we always experience. There is never a time when we go out and order drinks, that Ariel is ever served what he asks for. Unless, of course, I order it. That uni-expression that I pride myself on and that sort of “take no prisoners” inflection in my voice neatly does the trick. But, he ordered his own drink, but this time it came in a variation we had not yet encountered.

He usually orders a very dirty, Beefeater martini, on the rocks, with extra olives and invariably it arrives up. When I order it for him, I leave the “on the rocks” for last so it’s the last thing they hear and it comes out right. Well, Fernando, the gregarious singing waiter brought his drink, on the rocks, which was a surprise, and teaming with olives, but it still wasn’t what he asked for. This was a gin and tonic. Fernando tried to explain that even though the bill would say Tanqueray, it was indeed Beefeater, it’s just that they don’t have a button for Beefeater, which had nothing whatsoever do with the addition of the tonic. We got the drink straightened out, but not before a lengthy discourse over it between Ariel and the waiter.

“Are the steaks marinated in anything, are they highly seasoned?” we asked before placing our dinner order. It’s been my experience lately that steaks are overly salted to the point I can’t eat them. I can’t take that blood rushing to my head after the first bite of food anymore. “Family,” Fernando said, flashing a mouthful of teeth–he started off each sentence with some sort of familiar salutation; family, bello (handsome in Spanish), dito ( “blessed one” in Spanish) or something to that effect–”I am going to go right now into the kitchen and find that out for you. Although, I am sure we use the freshest ingredients, produce, vegetables, meats and cook them to your order. I will be right back.” And right back he would be, addressing us with one of his standard salutations to give us the answer. No, it was not pre-salted and it was delicious as was the crab-stuffed shrimp I had with it.

“Excuse me,” I said, at one point as Fernando, the casanova of McCormicks, went rushing by, on his way to sing to the ladies in the booth behind me and kiss them and probably hand out his phone number “can I have some more water?”  He nodded and flashed a toothy smile and went about his business. Ariel could see the mini concert  from his vantage point and it was met with looks of consternation and confusion from both customers and employees rushing  by with plates of food.  Even one of the managers, at one point, was trying his best to recreate a scene from “Swan Lake”, flouncing and skipping through the restaurant.   Several minutes passed before Fernando returned, stopping briefly to ask, “Did you want wine?” “No, water,” I corrected him.  “Oh, yeah, that’s what I thought. Be right back, amigo!”

Can I go home now?

Filled with food and thoroughly, I guess, entertained from the movie and our dinner experience, we left for home, and as we got in the truck, as I dreamed of slipping into my comfy jammies, parking my do-nothin’ in my red chair and zoning out in front of the TV on the eve of a free Saturday, I asked if we had an club soda at home because, as I uttered to my own disbelief, “I could use a cold glass of red cabbage.” And that is what red cabbage has in common with dinner at McCormick and Schmicks and Burlesque.

Tomorrow I shall tell you about Saturday.

Time To Kill

December 7, 2010

Before we had left for the mall, I tried on my suit and believe it or not, it actually fit me looser than the last time I wore it. Can that mean I’m actually losing weight? Don’t dare broach that topic with the reflection in my mirror; he’ll laugh at you! Anyway, that was a welcome relief and great money was saved!

Oh, quick funny story. We were about halfway to the mall, when Ariel realized he didn’t have his cell phone so we doubled back, he found his phone, after I had to call it from mine while I waited in the driveway in the truck. It was upstairs in the pile of work clothes he’d just changed out of and we lickety split head out again and we STILL made it before the movie started.

So, after the movie, we made our way to Macy’s and I found someone to measure my neck. It’s been a while since I had to buy a dress shirt and the last time I did my neck measured 18″, thanks to my rigorous workout schedule, which I have to get back to, but that’s another issue. I clocked in at 17-1/2. We picked out our shirts and new ties and went to the cashier. Naturally, it was time for a shift change and there was mass confusion at the register and memorable quotes were spoken such as “I hate Christmas” and “If she thinks I’m gonna train her…” (in reference to a young employee who was patiently waiting to ask a question once the current transaction, ours, was completed) by our cashier. Oh, yeah, and she had just come on duty. She was going to have a looooong night!

We still had some time to kill before our dinner reservations, which we really didn’t need, but better to have them, right? Ariel figured it being a Friday the mall would be swarming with people and they might, at some point, get hungry. Not so. We did a little Xmas shopping in the meantime. Yes, we caved and did a little something for everyone, even though we had decreed early on that Xmas wasn’t in our cards this year with the cost of the construction factored in.

It seemed a little odd at how few people were in the mall, yet the parking lot was jammed and there were people were looking for spots. And we managed to piss at least one person off when all we did was drop off our packages in the truck and headed back to the mall to get dinner.

We sat down and in the blink of an eye Fernando appeared and….. The saga will continue in tomorrow’s installment.

Red Cabbage

December 6, 2010

What do red cabbage, dinner at McCormick and Schmick’s and Burlesque all have in common? It’s how we spent this past Friday night. Oh, where to begin… ?

In spite of having only three days to work last week, because of the tail end of the Illinois trip, I managed to squeeze in long hours Wednesday and Thursday so Friday wouldn’t be a “full” day. We needed new shirts for the company Christmas party next weekend so it was off to the mall, first to see Cher’s new movie, Burlesque, but also to go to Macy’s for our shirts afterward.

But, by the grace of Goodness, we made our 3:30 showing of the movie and here’s where the day started that vortex of oddness. The theater at Bridgewater Commons, AMC Theaters has been renovated to a dine-in movie theater. Tickets are an additional $10 to cover that amount of whatever food you might order and then you pay the balance. Remember that story I did a while back about the mobile movie theater in England? Well, it would have worked for us on Friday because we were the only two in the theater.

I don’t know who started the rumor that Christina Aquilera was so bad an actress the movie would become an instant cult classic, but I have to say, I was surprised. For what her part was, she carried it off. Even more than Cher did in some scenes who came across stiff and robotic. I’d say plastic, but that would be rude. The plot was thin and there were too many offshoot subplots, but for the most part it was enjoyable. I even found myself wanting to applaud after some of the musical numbers.

Okay, back to the dine-in movie experience. Our usher, who turned out to be our waitress, walked us through the ticket buying process which is done at an automated kiosk at the front of the theater, on the mall side of the bar. Yes, bar! She explained the ticket price, etc. We got to our theater, number 6, just in time before the movie began and even though we got to choose our seats at the kiosk, we really could have any pick inside because, like I said before, it was just the two of us, in larger than necessary seats (think a smaller version of your own comfy recliner) with more leg room than I afford myself even at home and our waitress.

In the dark, we hurriedly perused the menu while the opening credits rolled on the screen in front of us and we each ordered a beer and an appetizer. We didn’t want to fill up too much because we’d be having dinner later on. Each seat comes with a cup holder, a menu, a swivel tray and a set of silverware rolled up in a napkin.

Even though we were the only two watching this blockbuster epic, it still seemed a silly concept. I mean, throughout the movie, the waitress kept coming to us to see if we were “okay” and we had to turn our attention from the screen to answer her. At one point, I moved my silverware across the tray and it clanged a little and I thought to myself, if this was a theater full of people and someone else had clanged their silverware, I’d have lost my mind! And if it were a theater full of people, it would be so chaotic with wait staff attending to everyone, who could enjoy the already overpriced movie?

So, for me, I’ll take a bucket of popcorn and a soda and just let me watch my movie in peace.

So, after the movie we…. whoops….come back tomorrow to get the next chapter in this Twilight Zone-ish Friday night experience.

Still Short A Million

November 15, 2010

Update: I still haven’t come up with that million dollars and change…. Just thought I’d keep you apprised as to how that’s going.

Oh man, where to begin with this weekend? Well, let’s see, Friday after work, I set out to go to Costco and ended up at the good Stop & Shop (not the one by my house, the one I haven’t stepped foot in for approximately the last 4 years) and figured I’d be home in plenty of time to put the groceries away and make my cream of mushroom soup. But, as with all best laid plans, everything takes almost double the time you imagine, especially when you’re out, pretty much at the start of rush hour traffic. On my way home, Ariel called and said when he got to a certain point in his trip he’d call me back and I could head out to the car dealer where I was to drop off my car for service scheduled for Saturday and then we’d stop for dinner and then come home. I thought, maybe best to just go there while I was on the road anyway, but he was far enough away, allegedly I could till unload my purchases. Of course, the second I stepped in the house, he called, so I did what I needed to do and took off and still got there before he did.

I took my car Friday night because I heard from Lou he’d be at the house by 7:30 Saturday morning, the time we’d have left to drop off our cars. This way my car would already be there and I wouldn’t have to leave the house open for the Crew to get in.

I have pictures! The Lou Crew.2.1…infinity, at this point…showed up and the grading got done and we have gutters.

   

We still have no heat because the HVAC guy seemed to have gone AWOL but is rumored to be slated for at least one day this coming week, which is all he probably needs. Then we just need the top step, the platform, if you will, cemented and then some refinements in the room itself; finish the spackling and painting, moldings and the like and we should be done and hopefully get our CO. And as we hear it, Lou’s nephew, who did the grading on Saturday is going to mark off the patio area and he will take over that project, possibly in early Spring.

When our cars were ready and got back home (Ariel has loaner due to other work they found that had to be done) we hustled ourselves out of here to get to the city. We met our friends Tim and Shane, had a great dinner at Frankie and Johnny’s, then they went off to see their show, La Cage Aux Folles and, like us, they raved about it when we got together again later afterwards. We went to meet some other friends in the meantime for a little while, had a couple of beers, hung out and chit-chatted until they needed to hit the road and then we went to our post show destination to meet up again with Tim and Shane for to cap off the evening and the next thing we knew it was going on 4am. Oh yeah, and did I mention that we walked from 45th Street to 13th and then some? I won’t mention the emrgency stop at a pizza joint and the incident that involved me, a malfunctioning and ill-equipt lavatory and an angry door busting lesbian. But I will say we taxied back to our room. Yes, again we had a hotel room, this time with no offensive lobby music but a rather chic setting where soft music played and cocktails were served and where women wore very stylish shoes and that always catches my attention.   Since Spiderman had been canceled, we met  with Canada yesterday morning for a late breakfast, then we parted company while they went to finish off their stay in New York and then left for home.

And, here it is, Monday and it starts all over again. Oh, and by the way….(so much for our Broadway diet) we have another show next weekend and as far as we know this one isn’t postponed.

It’s Time For A Vacation When….

October 5, 2010

…Well, let me explain. The other day, last Friday, in fact, I had a short day to work because I had had a few longer days in the beginning of the week and it turned out I’d be able to go have lunch with my mother, after all. She’d asked me the day before, but because I had some things to do after work before we went to see the baby, I told her I wouldn’t be able to make it.

So, there I was, minding my business, working, and I had the TV on, watching Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon in “The Odd Couple” on Turner Classic Movies. The more I see Walter Matthau in movies the more I can appreciate what he’s all about. I never was much of a fan. Same with Mickey Rooney. I actually find myself looking forward to seeing an old Mickey Rooney movie.

Out of nowhere, well, actually, from the den, or so I thought, came the sound of the alarm clock feature on my phone. I had used it the day before to time a movie I was transferring to disc from my DVR upstairs, but that was for about 6pm and it was going off again around 10:30 in the morning. If the alarm isn’t shut off, it’ll just go off at the same time each day that is checked off for it to go off and I was certain I had shut it off when that DVR transfer was finished. But on it rang so I got up take care of it and found my phone was not where I keep it. I thought real quick of all the places it could have been, although now that ringing had stopped. The only thing left for me to do was to call my cell from the house phone and track that puppy down.

I made my way back into the office, after making the once around through the house, sat back at my desk and as I reached for the phone, there was my Droid, quietly laying on the file cabinet next to me. I brought up the alarm clock and found it was, in fact, turned off. So, what the…

Then I looked up and saw Oscar Madison talking on the phone. Out of curiosity, I rewound the movie just a tad and, well, whaddya know, Oscar’s phone rang just like the sound of the alarm on my phone. A

That’s when you know it’s time for a vacation, folks!

The Lou Crew was here yesterday and my fan is up. It took having his son come by to help the boys with it, because Lou is still having a rough time with his back. In fact, he spent two days in the hospital last week with it, hopefully he’ll be back on his feet soon. I have to say, that fan that looked monstrous, now looks small up there on the on the ceiling. I don’t have a picture of it yet, nor pictures of the moldings they worked on yesterday as well, but I hope to have those for tomorrow.

It strikes me I didn’t get to that review of the play we saw over the weekend. Hmm. Tomorrow.

In the meantime, it’s Tuesday and time once again for my weekly “Lucille” reminder. If you go to her page, don’t be put off by the fact that she has surpassed her original goal, let that be incentive to help add to her sponsorship, after all, she is the one who will be walking and giving cancer “a look!”. I’d like to think that some of you readers helped contribute to her total and I sincerely thank you for that. Please remember to pass the info along to someone else who might like to help out.

An Enlightened Weekend

October 4, 2010

Whew, where do I begin? Well, first of all I discovered yet another benefit from walking. Since it was going to be favorable to walking Saturday morning, we decided to get up at our regular time (the ungodly 4:45) although it was closer to 6:30 when we actually got outside and while I was taking care of my pre-walk morning business, I checked my email with my phone and saw one particular one waiting for me that had come into my inbox at 4:08, one of particular interest, one that I have been relentlessly checking for. But, anticipating what was contained therein, I opted to wait until we returned before I would read it. On the walk, sometime between leaving the house and the five minute mark, I commented to Ariel about the email and he was once again astounded at the control I have when it comes to holding off on certain things, like opening packages that come in the mail, which I usually will do with an air of nonchalance sometime after dinner, oftentimes temporarily forgetting its presence in the house, or opening certain anticipated emails from a publisher. But he understood my reasoning that morning that I wanted to get my walk in without my mind being bogged down, just in case it was disappointing news, though I’ve become quite accustomed to that.

It was a chilly morning and the walk was brisk and we made it to a tad further at the turnaround point than we had that first morning whichever day it was last week when we finally got back to it. Thirty minutes later and we were home and I set down to make the ginger snaps I had promised to make the next time our Ginger Snap Queen was down for a visit from Upstate New York, to make up from the ribbing she got last time she visited sans cookies from a few of our fun and games and sometimes a Broadway show thrown in for good measure fivesome.

“Ahem!” said Ariel. “I’m getting the oil”, I said. “Are you going to open it?” “Of course, how else can I measure out what I need?” “I don’t mean that, I mean that email!” It really had gone from my mind. I sat once again with my phone and opened the email. I read it to myself and then read it to Ariel, with a sarcastic tone–Thank you for your query submission. We are interested in reviewing the manuscript in its entirety. Please send it to me at this email address, as an attachment. “Now,” I said, “should I read what it really says?” and I repeated it word for word. So, there you go, a hopeful note to start the weekend! I will keep you posted.

We delivered the ginger snaps and then we five headed off to see a play, which I will tell you about tomorrow, though I’m trying desperately to forget it. Ah, maybe it wasn’t as bad as all that.

I had a few things to do yesterday on my list, like finally pack up our camping gear I never got to yet and do some cursory dusting around the house since the dust has had a week to settle since the Lou Crew was absent most of the week and I couldn’t take it anymore. We also had to get to the mall for a few things and I thought of putting of the rest of what I had on my to do list when we got back, but I did them anyway plus one more task. I second guessed myself and decided to look through a stack of unmarked video tapes, nine in all, and don’t you know the second one I put in the machine was the one of the house I’ve been looking for? Alas, the VCR I have isn’t the best and so frantic calls were made to several stores looking for one and within 20 minutes, we were at Target. Long story short, the tape of the house tour we made on March 13, 1999 was transferred to disc and from there the before pictures were captured and I’m finally…FINALLY posting the old and new bathroom shots for you today. Now if I could only come across the tape we shot for Grandma B’s surprise 75th birthday…I’ll leave St. Dimas tied up a little longer.

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