I Thought I was Just Joking

 

I Thought I was Just Joking

Years ago, I posted about an issue I had with climate change. 

I envisioned a situation where a country could devise a way to control the climate.  It sounded like a wonderful pipe dream until I gave it more thought.

Have you ever lived in a home with sleeping quarters on two floors?  Invariably on really hot nights there is a thermostat battle.

Because hot air rises the upstairs is always sweltering in the summer, so upstairs residents will lower the air conditioner at night.  The lower temperature starts to freeze out the lower floor sleepers so they clomp out in the middle of the night and raise the temperature.  This back and forth thermostat battle can go on all night and no one gets any sleep.

If we we could control the planets climate, would we experience the same thermostat battle?

Would the world thermostat controller decide that the Winter was too cold and raise the temperature, only to find those countries that rely on colder temperatures would complain.

“Hey, what the Hell, we need snow for our ski resorts!”

If they had also developed a climate control machine would they drop the temperature right back?

“Hey, turn it up, our fruit crops are frosted and dying!”

You see the problem don’t you.

To me years ago it was just a semi-humorous concept of trying to make everyone happy with the Earth’s climate.

Well, I just read an article about our current administration considering flooding the atmosphere with tiny particles much like that of a volcano eruption to defect the sun’s rays and stop global warming.

Would we be able to do this in a way that only effects our country?

Who would decide on how much to reduce the sun’s rays? Do all the countries get a vote? Are the votes weighted based on population? Would there be any adverse effects with such an experiment?

What could possibly go wrong?

 

 

 

 

I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THIS COUNTRY…but I am disgusted!

 

I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THIS COUNTRY…but I am disgusted!

 

Years ago, and I mean a lot of years ago, the Good Humor truck and it’s magic jingle was a standard in every community.  The man in a clean white suit sold popsicles of various flavors, the classic chocolate covered vanilla on a stick, drumsticks, the creamsicle and fudgesicle, and my favorite, toasted almond bars.

There were no strange fancy flavors, pretty much vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream and cherry, orange, lemon, and lime popsicles.  Oh yah, also my fav…raspberry.

In warm weather, after school, a truck was always waiting.  As a middle class young Cranky eight-year-old, I always had change in my pocket to make a Good Humor purchase. 

Those days I brought my lunch and purchased a small milk at school.  The milk cost three cents, and my wealthy middle-class mom would give me a dime every day for the milk.  Because I excelled in math, I know this left me with seven cents jingling in my pocket every day to invest, or to buy ice-cream.

Had I invested the seven cents every day in a hot stock like Polaroid, I would have been rich…that is until Polaroid crapped out, so instead I wisely went the eight-year-old direction and bought ice-cream.

I still remember the Good Humor prices.  Popsicles on one stick were exactly seven cents.  Two stick popsicles were a dime along with the standard bar, drumsticks, and an ice-cream sandwich.  A creamsicle or a fudgsicle (pronounced fugicle) were twelve-cents.  A toasted almond was fifteen cents, or two plus days of milk money change.

Most days I went with a seven-cent raspberry one-stick.  On rare occasions I would skip a day and after maybe cashing in a two-cent deposit coke bottle to splurge and buy my absolute favorite the toasted almond bar.

Time passes and the uniformed man and his truck has disappeared, but there is still Good Humor at the store.  In my current affluent fixed income retired state, I am able to splurge often and purchase a whole box of decadent toasted almond bars.  

The toasted almond bar is one of the few things Mrs. Cranky and I can agree on.  It may be the glue to our otherwise often contentious relationship.

The last year we have been unable to find our favorite ice-cream treat.  We assumed it was always just sold out as it was everyone’s favorite.

Horrors to horrors, I recently learned through one of ex-blogger Suldog’s daily Facebook surveys, that the toasted almond bar is no longer in production.

GOOD HUMOR NO LONGER MAKES TOASTED ALMOND BARS!!!

The most decadent treat of my childhood is gone!  They sell crap like a strawberry shortcake and bars shaped like cartoon characters but not the best ice-cream bar ever, TOASTED ALMOND!

I am disgusted.  My marriage may not survive.

At least they still sell creamsicles and fudgesicles.

Come to think of it I haven’t seen a fudgesicle bar in years.

What the Hell is happening in this country?

GOING TO WORK

 

GOING TO WORK

 

Mrs. C and I just returned from helping her son and DIL move from North Jersey to Amish country in Pennsylvania.  The move was a little over 250 miles to a very nice new two-bedroom apartment.

While the kids drove out ahead to sign papers, check in and do whatever you have to do when moving into a new home, Mrs. C led the way for Cranky to drive a van of the kids possessions.

Sounded easy enough when I volunteered driving duty, until I saw the truck.

How two kids could accumulate so much stuff that had to follow them I have no idea.  The Truck that was packed to the hilt was a 26-foot U-Haul van.  Not an eighteen-wheeler, but for an old man, it was a big honking truck.

Driving this thing about scared the stuffings out of me.  A big full truck does not accelerate very fast.  It does not slow down very fast.  When you veer just a bit while answering Mrs. C on the cell phone, it does not recover quickly.  I may have hit those wake-up strips on the highway more than a few times, and I rode them for several seconds when I did.

At one point Mrs. C called and asked,

“Is the truck pulling to the right?”

This was her polite way of asking,

“Do you know what the Hell you’re doing, or are you falling asleep?”

I assured her the only thing wrong with the steering was the driver.

Anyway, I certainly gained new appreciation for the men and women who keep our economy running by handling those really, big trucks, part of the lifeblood of our economy.

When we did reach our destination, we now needed to unload this monstrosity.  I’m a little surprised it all fit into their new apartment.  Clearly, they will be doing some crap culling over the next few weeks.

Anyway, it took the four of us three hours of hauling boxes of books, furniture and stuff.  It then took another few hours for Mrs. C to assemble shelves and storage systems that were new in the box.  I served as Mrs. C’s gofer and resident screwer and hammerer.

I won’t even go into the fiasco of trying to return the big truck.  Suffice to say it was not without incident, and when we finally dropped it off it was like taking a boulder off my chest.

Anyway, the kids are moved into a lovely apartment in a very pretty section of our country.  I expect they will be very happy as their previous situation was not particularly pleasant.

I did learn that if I choose to come out of retirement, truck driving is out of the question.  Manual labor is out of the question. Actually, standing for over three hours is out of the question.

Do Wal-Mart greeters get to sit down while they wave to customers?

This adventure is over now, and I plan on a hot bath followed by rolling around in a vat of “Hempvana“

before taking a long nap!

10 4 good buddies!