Suburban Wild Kingdom

 

Suburban Wild Kingdom

The Cranky’s live in suburbia.  There are some woods and a river a half mile away, but our townhome is in the middle of roads, grass and a few trees and bushes.  It is a pretty area, but seemingly not a place for a wild life expedition.

A few years ago, we had a squirrel family in our eaves.  We got rid of them and shored up their entrance.  It was not that big a deal.  Well, it was a pain in the ass, but it wasn’t scary or anything.

Last year we installed some ring cameras around the home.  We did this as there were some car break-ins and also, attached units can be creepy.  With the ring we know that the sound in the living room is actually the neighbors closing their door loudly.  All our entrances are monitored by the ring.

I know there is the occasional skunk outside.  Not by the ring, but by the nose.  The ring camera once also recorded a fox.

A month ago, there was a raccoon on the deck that set off the ring camera.  It was a cute little thing.

The other week my neighbor told me there was a family of raccoons in his attic.  Climbed up a tree to the roof and made a home in their attic.  They made noise at night and their defecation and urination was making a stink.  Not such cute little things.

The next night there were two opossums on our deck.  I have had them in a previous home basement.  Not such cute little things.  I figured his attic family was actually opossums.

Anyway, the neighbor had Orkin Pest Control come out to rid the creatures.  They could not trap them, but they put a contraption on the entrance that would let them out but not let them back in.  Last I heard they were gone, but the stink remains.

Tonight, I decided to bbq a nice steak.  Mrs. C is at Disney World with her son and daughter-in-law, so I enjoyed a nice bachelor glass of port and a good cigar while warming up the grill. 

I finished my cigar and port and left the grill to get the steak.  On my way into the house there appeared a large raccoon right behind me.

Near scared the bejesus out of me.  I yelled and banged the deck floor.  Mr. Raccoon was not bothered in the least.  He did not attack, but he did not back up either. 

I have read that raccoons are not to be fooled with.

• Raccoons are formidable creatures. They have sharp teeth and claws, and the strength to inflict significant harm. There are many accounts of children, and adults, being disfigured by raccoon attacks. They are also known to inflict wounds on dogs and cats, especially at night.

Plus, they are sometimes rabid…especially if you see them in the day, which this still was.

I scampered inside and slammed the sliding door.  The raccoon seemed interested in the door and what was behind it.  Yelling and banging did not disturb him one bit, which disturbed me a lot!

I closed the blinds and waited for the raccoon to leave.  When I thought the coast was clear, I ran out to the grill with my golfing eight iron for defense…probably should have had a four iron…shut down the grill and dashed back to the safety of my home.  I suspect he was hunkered down under the deck.

I grilled the steak inside on the stove, which set off the smoke alarm for about ten minutes (more excitement) and then finished it off in the oven.

The steak was delicious, but I am afraid to use my deck as I think that is where the raccoon resides.

I need to check with my neighbor for the number to Orkin.

Not to get political, but I never had these problems before Biden was President…well except for the damn squirrels. *

*Just joking, probably not his fault.

  

 

 

Straws

 

Straws

 

At a local restaurant the other day, Mrs. C had to ask for a straw for her glass of water.  It seems that plastic straws are now a menace to the environment.

Apparently some sixth grader did a class project a few years ago where he determined that the world used 6 billion straws per day and they were destroying the environment. 

Personally, I doubt this statistic.  I think the kid misplaced a decimal point and no one checked his work.

But, it seems the straws we use every day, if put together would reach the moon and back.  That’s a lot of straws.  So now, in New Jersey if you want a straw at a restaurant, you have to ask for one. 

Personally, I don’t care, I have no use for a straw anyway.  I have not used a straw since I had the flu when I was 12.  I guess a straw helps you to drink without dribbling all over yourself if you are forced to drink lying down.  Otherwise, what is the point?

There was a straw called the “Flavastra” which had a flavor strip in it to convert milk to chocolate or strawberry milk when sipped though the “Flavastra” 

Have you seen one of those lately?

No!  Perhaps it was a really stupid idea.

Anyway, I don’t use a straw.  The lady step-crank has her own personal reusable straw so she will not be accused of hurting the planet.  I guess that will become a thing.

I’m not sure of the real purpose of a straw.  I prefer just sipping from a glass.  It is especially a New York thing to drink from a straw.

Every New Yorker I have ever known will not drink soda from a can.  They have to drink from a straw.

I have asked these people,

“Why do you have to drink from a straw?”

Every single one has told me the same story.

“I have an uncle who used to unload soda cartons from the rail road cars.  He told me that if you saw what went on with the rats and bugs in those cars you would never drink from a can again!”

I have asked about straw use to at least 17 New Yorkers.  They all have an uncle who used to unload soda from the rail cars.

  Every… single… one!

Now, it seems to me that punching a hole down into the soda can that has been defiled by rodents and insects is just as disgusting if you then dip a straw into the can or if you drink from the lip of the can…but that’s just me.

Interesting enough I have never seen a New Yorker drink a can of beer through a straw.  It is only soda.  Apparently, rodents do not like beer cans.

Anyway, you can make the damn things illegal altogether for all I care, I don’t drink soda and I never use a straw.

Save the planet, sip from the lid.

 

  

How To Appear Intelligent

 

How To Appear Intelligent

It may surprise some of my readers to know that the Cranky Old Man is not too bright. 

I suspect (my excuse) for not being particularly bright is a combination of ADD and OCD, with a touch of Tourette’s; afflictions that did not exist when I was at the diagnosable age.

Like anyone with a disability I have learned to survive. 

The abilities of the blind or deaf often more than exceed those of people without such handicaps.  People somehow learn to develop ways to overcome and excel even with such incredible disadvantages. 

So can the unintelligent learn to disguise their stupidity.

It has taken me years to learn some of these stupidity-hiding tricks. 

I am thus imparting my knowledge of how to appear knowledgeable for the younger generation of…you know…not smart people.  For most of you this is either not needed or it is too late.  Perhaps your children and or grandchildren can benefit.

The first rule is never answer a question with

“Gee I have no idea.” 

Always offer an answer. 

The trick is to offer an answer that appears intelligent even when wrong.  When you learn the correct answer you respond,

“Oh yes, that’s right…I knew that!”

I offer several answers to topics where an incorrect guess will at least sound like you are knowledgeable. 

For instance, the answer to almost any complicated math question on “Jeopardy” is

“Negative 1” or

“Zero.”

I have no idea why this is, but math questions are generally trick questions and if the answer is not either “Negative 1” or “Zero.” At least it looks like you know something. 

If it is obvious that either of these answers could not possible be correct, then answer,

“A Prime Number.”

I don’t know what that is either, but it is often the correct math answer.

The answer to the always asked literary question,

“What was the theme to this book/play/story/poem” is almost always,

“Man’s inhumanity to man!”

In my experience this is almost always the correct answer; if it is not, at least the professor will respond with,

“Ah…no…but I can see where you are going with that…possibly it could be a sub-theme."

Even the professor will not argue with your answer as it sounds so well thought out and knowledgeable.

When questioned about a large bird flying overhead the correct answer is,

“Looks like a red-tail hawk.”

Does not matter if you are wrong, that answer just smacks of you knowing stuff instead of,

“Gee I have no idea.” 

A question about chemistry…

“Hydrogen” is correct more often than not.

The reason for all wars ever fought is either

“Money” or “Religion.” Either one is always correct.

A question about English monarchy…

“George the Third.”  The correct answer is usually a George, and if your number is off it is still a good guess.  Of course, if it is a queen then “Mary” is the answer.

Which pope…?

“Pius V.”

A question about Shakespeare…

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream” is the answer that appears the most knowledgeable when wrong.

When fly fishing, always declare that any fish you catch,

“Fought like a brownie!”

No true fisherman will ever dispute this response.

Always blame a poor shot in bowling on,

“The oil pattern is changing.”

Any sport.

“A good defense always beats a good offense.”

If you spell a word incorrectly,

“I was using the English version.”

A question about an early US President…? Go with John Quincy Adams.  An obscure President? Answer Millard Fillmore. You should know the 20^th century Presidents, but if unsure best try Woodrow Wilson.

Well, you get the idea, never answer

“Gee I have no idea.”

A really bad guess somewhat on topic always gives you that aura of intellect to disguise the fact that you just might be stupid.

Why will people accept these usually wrong answers as indications of knowledge?

I have no idea.

 

 

 

 

 

WHO DOES THAT?

 

WHO DOES THAT?

Don’t get me wrong, Mrs. C is great, but every once and a while she makes me ask “Who does that?”

I may have mentioned in the past that she does not scoop her pudding; she dips the spoon in the pudding and slowly consumes whatever pudding sticks to the spoon.  Gotta ask, “Who does that?”

I may have posted on her dislike of sidewalks, preferring to walk on the street hugging the curb.  (Not if there is traffic, but walking the quarter mile to our mailbox.) “Who does that?”

If I want a cookie, I have to look all over, even under towels on the kitchen counter. “Who does that?”

We have been paying for a storage unit which contains maybe $1.65 worth of crap for 6 years. “Who does that?” I don’t even want to calculate how much I have paid to store that $1.65 worth of crap, but it would involve at least 3 zeros.  I choose to let it go…my last divorce cost me that much plus an extra 2 zeros.

I have learned, or have tried to learn to ignore the “Who does that?” moments and just let it go.

Still…

The other day she was putting stuff away in the freezer.  Stuff that came from a cooler.  The stuff in the cooler was kept cool with several sandwich bags full of ice cubes.  Along with this stuff, she also put away the sandwich bags of ice.

“Why are you saving the ice?”

“Because I will be using them later this week when I bring some things to Cassie.”

“But it is ice.  It takes up room.  When I open the refrigerator and look for something those friggin bags are going to fall out!”

“You are not allowed to open the refrigerator until I take the things to Cassie!”

“What?”

“Just stay out.”

“But it is just ice.  That’s frozen water you know.  We make those cubes day and night.  We have an ice maker. Why can’t you just save the bags in a drawer until you need them and then fill them up with new practically free ice cubes?”

“Just leave them.”

I wanted to argue more, but there could be all those zeros at stake so I shut up. Still, I said to myself,

“Who does that?”

Last night I had to bite my tongue once more. 

We went to dinner at “Longhorns” steak house.  After a nice meal Mrs. C asked for a take home bag for her unfinished dinner plus a carrot cake dessert to go.  When the waitress returned with the request, she also included two lidded plastic cups of water. 

“Who does that?” The waitress did.

I did not want to take the water home.  We have water.  We even have frozen water.  I did not want to have to balance two cups of water on my lap in the car all the way home.

Mrs. C disagreed.

“Why are we taking the water.”

“Because.”

“But…”

“The waitress was nice enough to give us the take-home water, we should take it home.”

“Can I just dump it out when we get to the car?”

“Bring it home!”

Who does that?

Anyway, my mind went to all those zeros, and I bit my tongue.

What did she do with the water you ask?

Tonight, I was looking for a cookie.  The water was still in the lidded cups under a kitchen towel.

“Who does that?”

 

 

 

Student Loans

 

Student Loans

Does my blog disclaimer say no political posts?  I don’t think this counts as political. Besides, my post, my rules.

 Anyway.

There is a lot of talk these days of granting college loan forgiveness.  To me this is very interesting. 

I agree it is sad that so many of our young people are saddled early in life with a debt burden that is difficult to carry and also live the “American Dream.” 

Owning a home, having children and all those things that young people expect are delayed because of this burden, and quite frankly many of these things are difficult to obtain later in life.

Cancelling this debt would be removing a financial ball and chain from our many young college graduates.

Can the country afford this?  It is probably not good timing in lieu of the current inflationary environment, but long term I would say yes.  The removed financial burden might even allow young people to make decision that might ultimately prove to be an economic boom resulting in increased tax revenue…maybe.

There are other arguments against student loan forgiveness.  

Is it fair to people who have worked hard to pay off their obligation to see others have the debt just wiped away?  I know it would piss me off, but then life is never always fair.

My question is, “If student loan debt is washed away, is that the end of student loans?”

I mean it is one thing to give one group a large break, but why would future college borrowers expect to pay-off their loans?  Who would make such loans?

It would be great for many people if home mortgages were suddenly forgiven, but what bank would ever provide mortgage loans again.

The ability to borrow money is a good thing.  And providing young people the means to further their education is a good thing for everyone. 

What is the answer? 

Sadly, I don’t believe college loan forgiveness would bode well for future potential college students.

One problem is the high college tuition expense.  Clearly in many cases college simply is too expensive.  The ease of borrowing money for tuition is, ironically enough, probably one reason for high tuition costs.

I think government could offer schools incentives and or some disincentives to curb the high cost of a college education.

“What might those incentives or disincentives be Cranky?”

“Do I look like a politician? There must be some smart people who could figure it out.”

In the meantime, I do have one suggestion to reduce the burden of college loans. 

Make the cost of college tuition and the interest on college loans a 100% tax reduction over a period of…hmmm…let’s say 20 years.

If your tuition costs $100,000 then for the next 20 years a students Federal Income tax liability would be reduced by $5,000 each year.  Interest on college loans would also be a 100% tax liability reduction.

This tax break would make the college loan burden more palatable, while not destroying the college loan market.

Would this solution still be unfair to those people who worked and suffered to pay off their college loans?

Yes! Suck it up buttercup, you still have your education, and down the road it just may help pay for your own children’s education.

Problem solved!        

What the Hell Happened While I was Away?

 

What the Hell Happened While I was Away?

 

As things are easing up virus wise, Mrs. C and I attended a concert for the first time in years.  It was a Doo-Wop concert featuring groups like the Duprees (Have You Heard), The Brooklyn Bridge (The Worst that Could Happen) and The Tokens (The Lion Sleeps Tonight).  Needless to say it was not a young crowd.

The theater was filled with wispy DA haircuts and bulging waists. There were walkers and a few wheel chairs.  There was not any annoying high arm waving, isle dancing and “We love you” screaming.

It was an old crowd.

The world has changed somewhat since the pandemic and not in a good way for old people.

The night started out with parking confusion.

We used to park in the garage across from the theater.  Easy peasy.

Pull up to the attendant, grab your ticket and pay on the way out…five maybe ten dollars, I don’t remember.

These days, not so easy.  Drive right in, park you car and then try and figure out how to pay.  Easy for young people, old people not so much.  We were surrounded by a confused generation of Doo-Wop fans trying to pay for parking.

It seems these days you have to point you phone camera at a square blob of squiggly ink and wait for a web site to appear.  Then you fill in a series of questions ending with your credit card number to find you are being charged $20 for 7 hours of parking.  Even this was not as simple as it could have been as the parking garage offered horrendous internet reception.

Thanks to Mrs. C we were able to figure out how to pay and she also walked several other confused seniors through the process.

Before we could enter the theater we had to prove we were vaccinated. 

Fortunately we had our proof of vaccination on our phone and that was accepted…not that I think they really looked at it.

Also masks were optional.  I wondered if they needed to tell us that.  Like would it be possible to NOT allow mask wearing? 

Now we are in the theater and of course before the show starts all us old people needed to pee.  Even that has now changed.

The restrooms are all non-gender.  I guess that is fine for young people, but old people balk at peeing next to the other sex.  The room was entered with great trepidation.

It turned out that these restrooms only had stalls, and a lot of them, so it was weird, but not too awful.  Not for number one anyway, pretty sure number two would be an issue for most of us geezers.

Most women seemed to like the idea of for once seeing men have to wait in a long line.

Parking done, entering accomplished and peeing over, it was time to settle into our seats.

Wait!  Don’t we get a program?

Yup, except the program required using your phone and pointing the camera at another squiggly ink square and downloading it on your phone.  Apparently if you do not have a smart phone, you can not park, enter a theater or get a program.  At least you do not need a phone to pee…yet.

Anyway the show was fun.  The falsetto lead singers are not what they used to be, and the dance steps have lost a step.  Still the groups are  entertaining and everyone seemed to enjoy the show.

The entertainment made you feel young again…everything else, not so much.

At 2:00 am we were woken up by an phone text beep.

“What is that, you girlfriend texting you?”

“Ha Ha! No, it is the parking garage letting us know our time has expired.”

What the Hell happened while I was away?

Saving Daylight

 

Saving Daylight

Twice a year, every year there is a battle about changing the clocks.  Why do we spring forward and fall back? 

I have heard it has to do with children not going to school in the dark…of course I remember coming home from school in the dark due to after school activities.  Seems like 6 of one a half dozen of the other to me.

I have also heard it has something with saving fuel or electricity or something…that never made any sense to me.  Of course, there are many things that make no sense to me.

Anyway, in the last few years I have heard nothing except complaints that the clock changing thing was ridiculous and should be stopped.  I have not heard a single objection to this.  It seemed almost unanimous that we should stop the springing and falling every year.

Recently congress passed a law eliminating Day Light Savings time starting in 2023.  Might be the only thing Congress will agree on this year.

Immediately after Congress passed the law, I began seeing news articles that this would be a catastrophe. 

Where have all these catastrophe predicting people been.  Why do I now hear their arguments?  Somehow, I now hear that without adjusting the clocks children will be killed, crops will be left un-harvested, energy will be wasted and Republicans elected.

Oh, the humanity!

Personally, I liked the practice of changing the clocks.  It is a ritual for Mrs. C and I to toast the changing of the clocks.  At 2 am on clock changing days we  watch the TV clock suddenly jump from 1:59 to 3:00 or 1:59 to 1:00.  With a glass of champagne we shout “Happy Clock Change”, share a clock change kiss and turn in for the night. 

Another tradition kicked to the curb.

Still, I have a problem with any objections to the clock changing.  If it so dang important that you start the day in day light, change your hours, not the clock. 

“Starting this Monday March 14, school will open at 8:30, not 7:30.”

Is that so friggin difficult?

Mrs. C has a solution.  Just one time this fall move all clocks back one-half hour, and never change them again.  Compromise; it is the Democratic thing to do.

Simple.  

Why is everything so dang difficult and controversial?  How are we supposed to figure out personal pronouns, resolve racial issues, end inflation, or stop a pandemic, when we can’t even make a simple decision about telling time?

If I were King, I would go with the Mrs. C suggestion. 

As a matter of fact, while I’m at it, I will lengthen every minute by one sixteenth of a second, and eliminate that stupid leap year thing.*

End of another problem.

*whatever it takes to eliminate one day every four years...I'd hire a math wiz to figure it out.

 

Man Vs. Woman

 

Man Vs. Woman

A popular theme in many a movie, sitcom and especially commercials these days, is a woman defeating a dude in events that men would be assumed to be superior. 

The theme; woman can do anything a man can do.

It is funny to see the woman surprise the man with her unsuspected superior ability.  Men think it is funny.  Woman think,

“See there isn’t anything we can’t do as well or better than a man.”

Women can do most things as well as any man.  Often as not they can do almost anything better than a man.  However, if it involves strength, sorry, I know this is politically incorrect, but men are stronger.

Not just a little stronger, but a whole heck of a lot stronger.  Men are stronger and faster than women.  The science is settled.

Yes, there are a very few extraordinarily gifted women that can hold their own athletically with men, not at a professional level, but certainly at an amateur level.

The late great Andy Kaufman, a comedian with a strange sense of humor, had a successful act where he challenged women in his audience to a wrestling match.  Andy was not an imposing physical specimen.  He was just an ordinary dad-bod dude.  He egged on and insulted his audience until finally a woman would accept his challenge.

A woman with real muscles would take on his challenge, and Andy always won.  He not only won; he would humiliate the challenger.  The strongest woman in the audience was no match for this ordinary man.

Hell, I am 76 years old and I very much doubt there are many women of any age who could beat me in a fight…not that I would ever fight a woman.  OK, there a few like Ronda Rousey that would kick my sorry butt in seconds, but still…

Currently the woman’s sports world is in a quandary over a male swimmer turned female who is winning all the races.  This person was a good swimmer on the men’s team, good not great.  As a woman this average collegiate athlete is dominating the pool.

Young women who have worked hard to be the best at their sport are angry about losing to this six-foot+ used to be a man.

The woke world doesn’t know what to do.  If they protest her participation, then they are admitting there are some things where dagnabit, men are superior.  Then if they protest, they are also offending the LGBTQ community.

Interestingly enough, who is the loudest voice protesting this man turned woman competing against women always been women?

Kaitlin (formerly Bruce) Jenner.  The one-time world’s greatest athlete when she was a he believes a her used to be a he has too much of an advantage and should not be allowed to compete with an always been a she.

Where should a man now a woman compete?  If she can’t compete against women, what should she do.  Compete with the men?  After the operation and hormone treatment she would probably be disadvantaged.

In my opinion, if anyone is going to be disadvantaged, I think it should be a her who used to be a him. 

Choice has consequences.  

 

  

 

Bullies

 

Bullies

When I was a wee lad in school, there was always that one bully.

“Hey kid, can you lend me a quarter?”

You knew that you would not be “lending” him a quarter.  You also knew that every day you would be “lending” him a quarter.  You knew that eventually he would be “borrowing” more than a quarter…every day.

So, you either said “Sorry, I’m broke” and sauntered away confidently, or you ended up learning to hide extra lunch money in your sock.

A bully is the same at every level.

Bullies smell fear and they will take as much as they can until they run into some backbone.  Like any predator, they look for the easiest prey.  Facing a buck with antlers could result in a life ending infected wound, so the mountain lion will not risk winning a battle and losing his life; instead, he will ambush a fawn.

That is how bullies operate.  They take from the timid and the weak, and they avoid those with balls.

“Take what you want, but don’t hurt me” generally results in losing everything and maybe being hurt as well…just because.

Eventually all bullies must be faced.   Eventually you must tell them, “I don’t care anymore,  you may hurt me, but I will kick and I will scratch!”

Usually, the bully moves on to a new patsy.

Fear is a bully’s green light.

Is standing up to a bully risky?

Or

Should you just lay back and take it…again and again and again?   

I Do Not Understand The News Anymore

 

I Do Not Understand The News Anymore

I remember when reading the news was simple.  These days I only get confused.  

In an all out effort to not offend any person.  The news omits offensive words and fills them in with ____.

This does spare me from being the “O” word, but also leaves me wondering what the “F” word was the word they are protecting me from seeing?

I do know the “N” word.  I know it is not nice.  But when I see n____r, the actual word registers in my head, so I am still offended.   

What is accomplished buy leaving out the middle letters?

Often I see words represented by just letters and I have no idea what the word is. 

Is a_____e, an ass hole, or is it an arm mole?

If someone is a B word, is he/she/they/them a bitch, or a brat?

(Don’t get me started on pronouns)

What is a c___ s___er? A corn shucker? A crab shaker?

If we all know what a “the N-word” stands for, then why is saying “the N-word” any less offensive than saying…you know?

If we know what MFer stands for, then why not just say…you know?

Who is being protected from the offensive words?

What do you tell children when they ask,

“Daddy, what is a MFer?”

“It’s a bad word.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell you.”

You just know eventually that child is going to call someone a MFer.  Won’t it still be offensive? And the child will not know why!

Reading the news used to be simple.  Now I have to figure out what offensive word a letter and blanks stands for.  

Here is one that bugs me.  As many times as I look up the current meaning of binary person or non-binary person, I always forget.  Is the N-word code for Non-binary person? Is the “B” word for a binary person? Is either one bad?

This pronoun stuff also has me confused.  (OK. I got me started)

I am sorry, but when I read an article that refers to “they” and it is just one person, I am confused.

When does Q mean the Q-word (you know!) and when does it mean a nutjob that believes conspiracies of something so bad that the news will not explain them (the conspiracies not a person or persons of unknown gender)? 

Are Q people G, or L, or B? 

Or are he/she/they/them the “R” word?

Where is George Carlin when we really need him?

 

 

Doesn’t Need Me, Still Letting Me Hang Around

 

Doesn’t Need Me, Still Letting Me Hang Around

My most recent post had me secure in my relationship with Mrs. Cranky because she needed me.  She needed me to open our front door which had a sticky lock.  The bolt gets difficult to move every winter.  At 60 degrees it seems to work.  Apparently, she only needs me in the Winter, but that makes her keep me around during the warmer seasons.  Until now.

Mrs. C wanted to just get a new lock.  I didn’t think that would make a difference.  I was convinced the issue was between the bolt and the door plate.

I thought about chiseling out the door and moving the plate a fraction of an inch so the bolt would not stick.  I had second thoughts.  Maybe my adjustment would make the door have a jiggly fit when the weather warmed up.

We called our friendly contractor Frank, who has done so many jobs for us that he gives advice for free…also he has friends in common with Mrs. C from way back.

Frank had a job nearby and offered to come around and take a look.

After about thirty seconds of examining the issue he asked if I had some two inch screws.  I managed to dig out several from my trusty jar of mish-mashed nuts, bolts and screws that I have saved from left over job for sixty years.

Frank replaced the screws in the doors top hinge.  Apparently the door was out of plumb by a tiny bit due to the door hinge 1 1/2 inch screws being imperceptibly loose.

With the door back in plumb the door lock engages and disengages like butter.

I guess I better be on my best behavior for a while.

WHY WOMEN REMEMBER DATES

 WHY WOMEN REMEMBER DATES

 

I've got nothing, so this one is so old it is almost new again...from 2012.

Just a reminder for those who insist on correcting and or debating the premise, this is SATIRE! A comment on life by using humor, irony and or exaggeration. 

A classic argument between men and women revolves around men’s inability to remember dates.  Women remember the exact date of any event they consider important.  Men vaguely remember the year…maybe the month and year.  Because women remember the exact date so easily, it is very upsetting to them when a man does not also remember.

Women correlate remembering the date with caring.  If you cannot even remember the date of an important event, then you must not even care.

Mrs. C remembers the exact day of our first date.  She remembers the first day I texted to her 143.  She remembers the first day I verbalized 143 and told her I loved her.  She remembers the date of everything.  Not just the date, but the day of the week that date fell on. 

How do women do it?  What gives them this skill that men do not possess?  I think it is simply a matter of biology and anatomy.

Because of anatomical and biological womanly functions, women are keenly aware of at least one day of every month.  They know when that day is due, how many days after they will be affected and when possible, plan their activities around this day and the following 4-5 days.

Because they are always keenly aware of this monthly event they always have a frame of reference to remember all other important days in their life.

When was the first time my husband took me to a movie?  Hmmm… it was March, eight days before I was expecting my regular event…It was March 9^th, a Friday.  What day did we get engaged?  It was December, two days after my monthly event ended…December 19^th…a Sunday.

If women want their man to remember important dates, they should mark their calendar.  Circle your lunar event, mark the number of days that will follow, and adjust the calendar as irregularity requires.  You will be surprised at the results.

What day did Aunt Martha have her operation?  Hmmm…it was in July; three days before…you know…that would make it July 19^th…a Tuesday.

OR

To really drill the importance of dates to your mate, inform him that every month you are going to kick him in the balls when he least expects it, and make sure he knows what day that event will occur.

 

When are we supposed to go out with the Frankles?  Hmmm…As I recall it will be one week after you kick me in the balls this month…that would be the 17^th…Saturday.

It is really very easy to remember dates, as long as you have a consistent frame of reference.

She Needs Me

 

She Needs Me

There is only one entrance to our townhome.  Our garage is attached, but unlike most of the units, there is no entry from the garage.  We have a sliding glass door off the rear deck, but a baseball bat blocks the slider because like most sliding glass doors, it does not take much to defeat the locking system…so, no entry from the back.

The front door is the only entry point.

In past winters, the dead bolt has been a little difficult to open.  On very cold days the metal of the bolt and the metal of the bolt plate seem to shrink in differing amounts causing the bolt to be a bit sticky.

I have been meaning to make an adjustment to the plate to fix this, but it has not been a problem, only a nuisance.  This winter it is a big problem.  The system is so tight that Mrs. C does not have enough strength to open the lock.

I can open it only as I have enough weight to push on the door to relieve some bolt/plate friction and enough wrist strength to force it open.

If Mrs. C is out, she will send me a text before she is home so I will undo the bolt for her.  When we go out together, I am the only one who can engage the bolt when we leave or open it with a key when we get home.

I think a slight plate adjustment would fix the problem. 

I am not going to fix it.

It is good to be needed.

I have spouse security until spring.

WHAT IS ART?

 

WHAT IS ART?

 

My step daughter has genuine artistic talent.  We have a number of her paintings hung through-out the house.  Many of her works are in a “pop-art” almost cartoony vein, with perhaps a touch of Andy Warhol.

She uses her talent today as a graphic designer.

The other day I was working out on our new treadmill (Christmas present to myself) and I noticed one of Cassie’s works on a basement wall.

It did not seem to be in her usual style. It was different, it was interesting.  It seemed to me, to be almost childlike, and yet there was something about it that I could not stop looking at it.

I would have to tell Cassie that this piece of art really had something, and she should explore this new style further.  Of course, what do I know?  This work could be pure crap and Cassie left it at our home because she was ashamed of it.

Still, for some reason I liked it, and you know what?  If someone likes a piece of art than it must be real art.  If it speaks to someone then it is art.  This painting spoke to me, even though I'm not sure what it was saying.

So yes, I would tell Cassie I really liked this painting.  Even if it was not realistic; I did find it interesting.

Different, but somehow quite good I thought.

When I was finished with my workout, I went over for a closer look to see if perhaps Cassie had named the work.

There was a signature, but it was not Cassie’s.

It was from someone named Vincent Van Gogh. 

It was a print from a recent museum trip that Mrs. C had gone to with Cassie.

Clearly, I do not know much about art to not be familiar with Vincent Van Gogh, his style or his works.

But at least I recognize fine art when I see it.