So, it’s another Father’s Day.
This is my twentieth without Molly around.
My own father lost a son (my twin brother – name unknown to me), and a daughter, through a previous divorce. He was not around to suffer the loss of Molly. If he had been, I could have asked him how he dealt with such ephemeral matters.
I guess I know, at least in part, how he dealt – he drank and he overate.
Traits familiar to me.
Fortunately, I’m not an alcoholic and am dealing with my food issues.
If only I knew how to deal with the issue of loss.
Guess I am, in reality. I’m still here. And I have the love of my friends and family.
And that, my friends, is everything.
Go and hug your children and tell them you love them! Because you never know.
My good friend Old NFO recently posted about playing board games (as opposed to playing electronic, I suppose?)
Of mention was the at one time ubiquitous Trivial Pursuit™.
And this tweaked a memory of mine.
(BTW – I’m not a big game player. Was never that skilled at chess, and sports are a loss for me, most of you regular readers know. Perhaps I’ve just not found the right game…?)
Sometime back in the 80s, Trivial Pursuit appeared on the scene. Being married at the time, the wife commanded we join with other couples to socialize. And play games. Sigh.
And Trivial Pursuit was the name of the game. (Better than Uno, that’s for certain!)
(I’ve made this statement before) My mind is a veritable cornucopia of useless crap! Translation – I know a lot of trivia!)
If memory serves me, we played twice, and we won twice! Then the other couples stopped playing with us for some reason(?) :-)
My Achilles heel was always the sports questions, unless there was some kind of historical import – then I knew it.
Fast-forward to working at TMCCC. Once of my coworkers for a while was a hipster. Calf length pant-shorts (somehow allowed in the dress code), tattoos on arms and legs. Visible piercings and ear gauges.
And a nice enough guy. Just not the sharpest spoon in the drawer. I think he was high during most of high school.
During some forgettable 4 month period, management created ‘games’ for us to play in our ‘teams’. To create cohesiveness amongst us. Even though we still we pitted against each other in the real world!
And one of these games was a daily trivia question from – you guessed it, someone’s defunct Trivial Pursuit set.
And I got a sports question:
Whom (I think it said who) did the Boston Red Sox (jokingly) offer to trade for Mickey Mantle in the 1950’s?
Of course, this was also historical, so I knew the answer – Ted Williams!
And tattoo boy was beside himself! HOW could you possibly know such a thing? You’re not a sports guy!
I don’t remember what menial award I received for getting the answer correct. Befuddling the hipster was the best reward.
BOREPATCH, blogger extraordinaire, posted his last post on June 11.
Almost SEVEN YEARS after his first!
He says he wants to hit the road on his new bike.
Can’t blame him, after all this time.
Vaya Con Queso, my friend!
Hope to catch that beer with you one day.
I was able to communicate with one of the many Bobs in my life last night. (Long-time readers know I’ve many friends named Bob and Dave. One childhood friend was even named Robert Davidson!)
The dear friend with whom I was a private investigator, and later worked together in a firearms emporium.
The one who lost the lower 12″ of his left leg due to diabetic complications. And almost lost his life.
Fortunately, things are going well as can be for him.
He’s been using a prosthesis now for about six weeks! He still has need of a wheelchair or a walker for some life activities.
The most important thing is he is active, continuing to test his limits, and has a terrific attitude.
One daughter is preparing to graduate from a local university; the other from Northwestern.
He is most proud.
I’m proud of him for his ongoing attitude. I’ve my own health issues – And he continues to show me that attitude is everything.
Thank you, Robert!
Home invader(s), rapist, armed robber…!
Inside your home…in your yard…on the street…
You got the drop on him (them) and they acceded to your demands, dropped their weapons
Do you have a PLAN? Coordinated with your family members? Who is going to be where? Who is calling the police?
You are in your pajamas and barefoot. How will you identify yourself to the police when they arrive?
OR WILL YOU BE SITTING HANDCUFFED ON THE KERB NEXT TO THE FELONS WHILE THE POLICE SORT THINGS OUT?
My point is simply this – HAVE A PLAN! For inside your home and yard. Coordinated with family, and perhaps even neighbors/block watch folks.
AND, if you get the drop on an armed robber out on the street, how do you expect to control them while you call the police? Is there a kidnapping and false imprisonment charge in your future?
We’re told by the experts to plan what to do if an armed robber goes up to the cashier at the Denny’s where we are sitting.
There should be a plan already thought out for the aftermath. EVEN IF NO ROUNDS ARE DISCHARGED.
Being an armed citizen is more of a responsibility than just carrying a gun.
Most of you regular readers know I HATE giving the government money. Doing so burns my libertarian soul.
I’m still driving Ol'(insert old-timey lady name here), my 2000 Oldsmobile Intrigue. Basically, because I’ve no other choice. And, it’s
registration involuntary ownership tax time again.
With the precursor of emissions testing.
(I always stop here to remember how the State legislator who forced through the emissions testing requirement soon left the legislature to work for the contractor who obtained the initial contract. No dirty politics here, no sir! :-))
I arrive just after the testing station opens and find I’m second in line. I’m a little worried, as my car sometimes stalls at idle, and sometimes the pollution control gimmick sticks in the engine and dashboard warning lights illuminate. Getting tested with dash lights on is a no-no! They’ve not come on in a few weeks, so I feel they are due.
I pull up when ordered, exit the vehicle, the guy does his testing, and she PASSES!
I re-enter the vehicle and crank her to start and leave, as instructed…
AND THERE IS A BACKFIRE! THE TESTING STATION (AND MY CAR INTERIOR) FILLS WITH SMOKE! But, as the car is running (and there is no obvious fire or dash warning lights), I drive away victorious!
And return home (after depositing appropriate gift funds to cover costs) and pay on-line to obtain my State license tags for yet another two years!
(To those of you who help me pay to keep my car registered and insured – I salute you!)
And to the State, who forces me to go through this nonsense every couple years to extort revenue from me – you already received my salute!
I’ve been prowling this Internet thing since the early 90’s. (Remember dial-up? *shudders*)
It still amazes me how it can connect people from all walks of life, from all over the world.
I remember surfing bulletin boards on the IRC (Internet Relay Chat) and found some guys in Finland. They found out I was American, and told me to go away!
I posted a few days ago about yet another medical adventure. This time with my upper GI tract. Seems I have GERD (gastroesophageal reflux disease) – aka acid reflux damage to my esophagus.
I chalked it up to getting older and poor diet. Whined about it and forgot. (I’ve a tendency to post stuff, then forget about what I posted – as if I needed to get it out of my head. Must be a writer(?)
The other day, I get a gift and nice note from a regular reader (who knew I had those?) whose reason was we both suffer from the same affliction!
Other people have sent me – and even brought me – gifts of money, ammo, and even single malt Scotch!
Sometimes, I feel unloved and forgotten…
FRIENDS, and the Internet are wonderful things!
(or perhaps not.)
As some of you know, my roommate is a renowned hairdresser. As such, she is an artiste’, or at least artistic. She is also (by her own admission)
an old hippie was a hippie in her youth.
As such, she tends to lean toward pushing the envelope stylistically.
Last Summer, around the time of her birthday, it occurred to me that I had no funds with which to acquire a birthday present for her. Nada, zip, zilch. And, as she is a good friend (among other things, she provides me with a room to rent!)
I had to do something.
I decided to grow a beard. She likes beards. Until her next birthday, which is in July. You have seen it’s progress here. (Tonsorial Splendor)
And she recently decided to tweak it!
Here is the result:
Kinds of ‘biker meets old man’!
The good news is she also cut my hair shorter. I can probably live with this until July – Hey! it shows I’ve lost weight, too! :-)
From my friend Borepatch:
Stay thirsty, my friends
I will leave you with one note of optimism, from Mark Perry. I went to college in the nadir (1980) of the American beer industry, where a small oligopoly of mediocre beer producers was protected by government legislation. It was a classic example of how regulation drives monopoly, consolidation, and loss of choice. With deregulation, the American beer industry has exploded.
I don’t drink beer as often as I’d like. 1) It costs money, and 2) being diabetic with weight ‘issues’, beer is probably not the best choice for a beverage. For me.
This doesn’t mean I don’t like it!
Thankfully, when I do imbibe, I don’t repeat my college years, wherein if I wasn’t scheduled to work or be in class, I had a can in my hand. As did many of us.
A friend would stop by. “Hey, wanna beer?”
These days it’s more diet soda, or coffee. Or even water. And it’s in a glass bottle or draught! Canned is for the uncouth – or poor college students! Glass just tastes better.
Borepatch, on multiple occasions, has stated he would like to buy me a beer.
I hope one day we can do that, BP!
And I can buy one for you.
(A belated mention – National Beer Day was April 7. The anniversary of the end of Prohibition. I did imbibe that day. In honor of the end of government oppression and control. Perhaps one day there will be a National Freedom Day?)
Life doesn’t always go as we plan or desire. We certainly cannot control others in their personal plans or desires.
Especially, in matters of the heart.
Sometimes, we must let them go…
When love is good, it’s very, very good.
And when it goes away, it sucks.