Hunt 'N Pecker

I am amazed at how fast some people type.

Last night a friend of mines daughter came over to get some help with her notebook computer. She is going to the local university and is PC dependant.

Back when I was in college, a computer was a novelty and you could only use one with punch cards on a main frame. There were no PCs yet.

Anyway, I am the local PC guru so I help anyone who asks for help with hardware and software issues.

My typing abilities are hunt and peck. I stare at the keyboard and use one finger on each hand. You would think this would be slow and accurate. Each sentence I type I look up to see spelling errors pointed out by Word.

I would hate to be one of those people confined to a wheel chair that could only use their nose or eyes to type. I am afraid I would loose all ability to communicate.

Anyway, this young lady took the PC after I finished and began this steady clicking, sounding almost like popping corn at the climax. It was truly beautiful listening to her type.

I can imagine many of you type well and fast. I admire that.

I remember last February in St Croix; I woke up and found my sister Judy in the living room drinking coffee. I joined her and decided to blog. She was amazed at how crudely I type for a person who uses the computer as much as I do.

On Being Southern

Do you know the difference between hay and straw?

Do you call it pine straw or pine needles?

Are you aware of the consequences if you eat country ham?

Do you know that barbeque is a noun and a verb but never a cooking apparatus?

As funny as it may seem to outsiders, born and raised southerners who follow history, are still angry deep down in our souls that we suffered an unprovoked attack in 1860 from the United States. Then we suffered through reconstruction, and economically the south was kept in its place until the 1950’s. That is why there is an undercurrent of distrust to outsiders for something that happened 147 years ago. We still remember the impassioned stories our grandparents told us.

My grandparents were born in the 1890's.

Listening To The Night

I woke up very early this morning and just lay in the bed and listened to the night.

Sometime in the night Gigi had put our Auzzie/Border Collie Cede, in between us. She was dead silent and balled up tightly sleeping against me. She is such a cozy little fuzzball.

Gigi was in deep sleep with the low sounds of deep breaths.

Duke was on the floor making manly dog snores and Peaches was by his side in silence.

I could feel the presence of fall. The air feels different. The crickets sound different. It is no longer summer even though it is hot.

As I lay there and listen, everything felt good and in complete balance.

Ah, the innocence of night. For now at least, all is right in my world.

I Swear We are Not All Idiots

I guess I have harped about my love for the US Virgin Islands enough that my secretary and her fiancé are heading to St. John today for a long weekend.

She is so excited about the blue water, the nice people and the good food. Plus she is dying to drive the Jeep on the left hand side of the road.

But what kills me about women is they think men are idiots. She has been running around watering the office plants, laying out files in neat piles with notes attached, and generally making the place man-proof in her absence.

I just noticed the kitchen was scrubbed down and all the coffee cups are clean.

One thing that has helped already is I have automated the phone system with a remote PBX that sorts all calls and faxes and then delivers a call to me wherever I am.

So I am chillin’ in her absences and not worrying about the phones ringing.

What’s for lunch?

Question of the Day

I love the little white powdered doughnuts. Here in Charlotte they are called Sweet 16s and come in a little white bag.

Okay the question…How many of you have about strangled to death when you inhale the powdered sugar?

I Yield to the Cruzan Gentleman

I yield my forum today to my friends down in St Croix. This story is too funny to pass up. Please read it.

Now you know why I am going down there in the peak of hurricane season to be a college student again.

Where Has Your Blood Been?

At 1:40 AM I awoke with a profound thought and busted out laughing.

The blood that was coursing through my face and mouth most likely had just done a tour of duty elsewhere far more disgusting.

Somehow I had compartmentalized that I had face blood, butt blood, hinter lands blood, etc. But now I realized that I had butt blood in my face.

Interesting, funny, and disgusting all at once.

I Need To Be More Careful

We have had 26 straight days here in Charlotte where the temperature was well above 90 degrees, and rain has been kept to .15 of an inch.

There have been several clusters of days where the temperature exceeded 100, or hovered around 100.

After a while you become accustomed to this dry oppressive heat, at least I though so.

Friday I played golf. It was 98 and sunny. I drank water constantly and played 16 holes before the group decided to call it quits. I had a headache, and felt lightheaded. By the time I drove home I was completely exhausted.

I was so exhausted that I let two preseason Carolina Panthers tickets go to waste. I just didn’t have the energy.

Saturday morning I woke up all refreshed and full of vigor. I ignored the 100 degree forecast and headed up to the roof to clean the gutters. I felt like it might rain even though no rain was called for in the forecast.

Then I cleaned the gutters on the guest house and decide to mow the grass with the push mower.

Around noon I suddenly got this attention getting chest pain. This was not to be ignored. This really hurt.

I came inside and Gigi told me to strip down and she put a cool wash cloth on my head while I let the cool breeze of the ceiling fan cool me down. My clothes were wet but I wasn’t sweating. After a short while I felt better but stayed inside.

Both days I felt fine until suddenly heat exhaustion overcame me. I love the heat, but I must respect it more I suppose.

It did rain by the way. We had a wonderful thunderstorm that must have dropped a half inch or so.

Three Thoughts

Do you ever look around at people and think; they put that outfit on, looked in the mirror and said, “Damn I look good”. All the while they look ordinary as hell to me.

I just love it when I get a rare day when I think I look damn good. It changes my attitude.

My favorite part of the chicken is the wings. I don’t much care for Buffalo wings. I like the winds you get on a baked chicken or fried chicken.

When it comes to chicken, the small the better. I about gag when I see those old giant ass rooster wings some places serve; it’s about quality, not quantity.

I absolutely love doilies. Anything is better with a doily under it. It just makes a statement that says, not only does this taste good, but we are going to make it look beautiful. A plastic doily works best with chicken wings. Paper shows grease. Paper doilies are cheap. Buy some and use them the next time you entertain.

Good Friday to You

I have a friend moving to St Croix, VI next week. Yes, the same place I love and cherish.

Her husband was transferred there to run the Coca-Cola distributorship there. It seems that this Coke place needed a turnaround, and Eugene was the guy to do it.

Can you imagine a better place for Coke? Rum and Coke, seems like a natural.

These folks aren’t close friends; we have just known them for 20 plus years.

They couldn’t have found St Croix on a map a year ago and now they get the pleasure of moving there with a job.

She was describing how she gave away all of her winter clothes, and how they had to inventory everything before it was shipped.

I could imagine me doing the same. “Yes, 3 horses, 4 dogs, 2 cats, 1 bird, 5 pairs of shorts and shirts, some swim trunks, a pair of sunglasses and flip flops, one red Jeep, now give away the rest”.

I told her, “I’ll see you in two weeks Sharon.”

Question of the day - Would you tell someone if they have something on their face or teeth?

Golf Safari

I tossed the clubs up on the Jeep and will attempt a round of golf this afternoon. Mind you, this is strictly for medicinal purposes. I need to test the pinky finger.

Two Little Things

I just love the back of a border collie’s head. I like to see all the hair layering like they had an expensive cut, and I like to imagine what they are thinking about.

Second, have you noticed how many people stumble over the words, “and I will return your call”, when they are making the message for their voicemail? That “r” gets them a lot. I have to pause when I transition from the “l” to the “r” myself.

Living in the Moment

I read Terri’s blog this morning and started thinking about why I am happier and more fulfilled as I get older.

First, I try to live in the moment. I can do nothing to change my past. I do not know what the future holds. Right now however, I can breath deeply, I am not in pain, I will quash any anxieties that come to mind, and I will love.

Second, I no longer see things as black and white, there are gray areas in life. There are exceptions. There are bad decisions that you must live with, and there are fortunate decisions that move you along.

Third, I am more aware of my surroundings. Feel the heat, the cold, the moisture, the rain, the grass, and the air. Look at the fantastic colors before you that you take for granted. Look at your own hand. With silent commands from your mind you can control this fantastic creation.

Interact with another non human creation. I prefer a dog. This creature got lucky and got a chance to live, he/she just happened to be a dog and they are mostly happy creatures. Learn from them.

Lastly, I have a fantastic long term relationship with someone I love. It is not perfect, there are ups and downs, but we stick it out and try to resolve conflicts.

When I get in a bad place, I know that it will pass, it always does. I never judge my life by its lowest moment.

What Day is it Anyway?

I woke up this morning fully convinced that it was Friday, and I had the blank canvas of the weekend before me. Then I realized it was Wednesday, garbage day, the day I have to roll the cans to the curbside for pickup.

Damn that feeling of Friday was fleeting, but I get to live it again in a few days for real.

Then I recalled a dream I had last night. I was in prison for I know not what why. I was serving a year and it was driving me crazy with the rules. I had to ask permission for everything.

It was a co-ed prison and the groups were kept very small. We had long classes together and the guards enjoyed humiliating us. If you broke the rules they would stick pointy pencils in your butt cheeks through your jeans.

I played by the rules, because I didn’t want any pencil lead in my fanny.

I’m glad that was just a bad dream. I guess I’m getting plenty of REM sleep.

Fools, It's All About Attitude

I sat down in front of the computer this morning and found no inspiration. Then a long commute to work; and what do you know.

This woman was in front of me for most of my commute this morning. She must work in the same building and comes in from the east side of Charlotte.

I started watching her about half way into my morning commute. She was weaving from lane to lane trying to get an advantage, all the while yakking on her phone. I would pull up behind her at each stop light and think about all the effort, swearing and arm waving she just went through to be in front of me.

The light would change and off she would go weaving and flipping off her fellow drivers.

Once she did manage to get one car between us at a light.

Finally, I pulled into the parking lot beside her. I got there a few seconds after her. She was stressed and I was not.

What an idiot.

Growing Old Gracefully

Half of getting old, is growing old gracefully, realizing that something’s will change around you, and you will be oblivious to it, mentally being stuck in the 70’.

Text messaging is one of these things. It may be too late for me to catch on.

I just realized after reading Terri’s blog that my nephew text messaged me about three weeks ago and I was clueless until right now.

[Shrieking loud whistle blows while a guy in a striped shirt throws in a yellow old fart penalty flag]

I have looked at the message from my nephew several times after the fact. I didn’t know who it was from, or what they were talking about, even though he wrote in plain English.

I’m pretty up on most technology, but this is different. Text messaging requires young eyes and a command of ones thumbs.

My eyes are borderline needing readers. I am fighting the good fight but may have to slip on a pair of reading glasses if I plan to reply.

Second, I am coming off a hand injury, remember the pinky? Even though I doubt this finger would come into play, it’s a good excuse.

How come when you are young and nimble they made print and pencils so damn big. I remember being in the first grade and opening a book. I was dumb as a stump but I knew the writing was big. The pencils were fat as a hotdog too.

Now I am at the age where I can appreciate big print and hotdog size pencils and they tell me to put on glasses instead.

Anyway, Jay, I’ll get back to you, I promise.

Look, Look Cedie! A Vineyard!

Cedie and I went for our Sunday ride in the Jeep, Testicules, and decided to branch out east to see what we could find.
It looks like big doings in Big Lick, but we are a day late.

Maybe we could visit Reed Gold Mine and strike it rich?

Oh Glory…a new winery in my own backyard. It was opening day and I may have been the first paying customer to stop by Rocky River Vineyards.

Nice folks, nice tasting room, nice grounds. I'm going to get Gigi back for a picnic.

All this just a few miles from my house.

Boscoe is Famous

I had a fun morning. We have tons of chores to do here so I pecked away at them. It’s almost impossible to do much yard work because it is so hot and dry. I’m still avoiding the garage.

Later in the morning I email Michael and Terry to see if they had Skype. I told them I had successfully done several video phone calls and thought it would be cool to try the same from St Croix.

Michael being a tech nerd after my own heart was game, but he warned he didn’t have a web cam.

We connected, but neither of us could hear anything. My video was passing through.

So Michael called me on Gizmo to my home phone, they watched us on live video, and we talked for 45 minutes or so. Meanwhile Gigi and I paraded our pets in front of the cam for them to see. Terry was surprised how little Boscoe was.

A couple of times Michael had to translate for Terry. She has a tough time understanding a southern accent and our vernacular. My accent is mild compared to Gigi’s. I guess we get carried away with our ways sometime.

Gigi and I will be down in St Croix in three weeks. It is kind of strange going down when it is so hot here. Usually it is cold as all get out when we go there. At any rate I’ll be glad to go there in low season and visit. We always have fun.

I Married a Mean Little Woman

Gigi and I ordered a large thin crust anchovy and mushroom pizza at Pizza Hut last Wednesday on date night. She ate one piece, and I ate two before we packed it up in their industrial to go box for later eating.

Since then, we have been dragging that pizza out at feeding time like a lion does an old zebra carcass.

Last night was the perfect storm, three day old leftover pizza, beer, and a Carolina Panther preseason football game.

I ate the last three pieces and nursed on some beer while Gigi fed the horses. Little did I know that she had designs on one of those pieces of pizza.

When she came in from the barn she looked and the box and yelled, “Pig! You are all three pieces?”

I snickered in satisfaction.

I watched most of a humiliating game and went to bed.

Around 2:00 AM I was awaken by loud whale noises, the kind you hear on National Geographic specials where they record a group of hump backs getting ready to mate, and then head somewhere cold and far off like the artic circle.

I go tearing into the bathroom and put on a private fireworks show fit for any Walt Disney finale. I hear Gigi snickering under the sheets and she said, “Serves you right eating those three pieces by yourself.”

Don't Forget Me When You Loot!

I worry far too much about friends when inclement weather is near. For example, I know Melackey is down in Texas getting pounded yet another time by rain.

Then there is Terri and Michael down in St Croix. I worried all week about that powerful hurricane Dean until it decided to clearly pass to the south.

I worry about the storms, but never consider the aftermath. It is now a popular pastime to loot after a disaster. I see that they are doing this in Peru right now after the earthquake.

We didn’t consider looting when we were hit by a hurricane back in 1989. Just as well, all that stuff would be old by now anyway.

Anyway…guys, if you plan to loot, I could use a 42 inch plasma TV. Nothing fancy, I’ll go legit on the surround sound.

Traffic Humps and Bumps

I despise traffic bumps. I slow down for a traffic bump, but fully expect to be jostled.

I really hate people that cross traffic bumps like they are carrying a load of nitro-glycerin.

They’ll slow down to a crawl and sloooooowly crawl over the front tires, then slowly cross the back tires. Usually they are in what I classify as a fat man car like a Mercedes or Cadillac. Hell, those cars are made to absorb shock to keep your fat-ass comfortable.

People please, speed up a bit. Expect your tits to bounce and your drink to slosh. Move a bit faster over the bumps for gosh sakes.

I really like traffic humps. These are all over Charlotte and they are quite reasonable in their expectations.

Traffic humps require you to slow down to 25 mph. Cross any faster and your ass is flying all over the place. At 25 or less you experience a slight rise and fall.

5 Things to Ponder

I hate the smell of a walk in closet, everyone’s smell about the same.

I think I’m going to rename my Jeep from Timmy the Beast to, Testicules, the newly made up mythological Greek God of Gonads. It would be a good name for a boat too.

Gigi’s uncle will call sometimes. When I answer he’ll say, “This is me, is that you?” It’s funny and accurate.

People around here are starting to get grouchy about the constant 100 degree days and no rain. I am in heaven.

I haven’t grilled anything in a while. I love to grill with charcoal and I think I will this weekend.

It Was Just a Stone’s Throw

Yes, I just got rid of a stone. Yes it hurt, but not near as bad as last time.

I called Gigi all excited and she acted like ok, good, what do you want, a dog biscuit?

I would love to share the gory details but I’ll save that for my buddies over a beer.

I feel very relieved.

You Can Lead a Phone to Electricity, But You Can’t Make It Charge

I so hate it when I plug in my dying phone to charge it, and come back an hour and a half later only to find out my phone has been goofing off.

What I want to see is “Charging Complete”.

What I hate to see is “Insert SimmCard”, or “Charging not Compatible”, or “I ain’t did shit for the last hour and a half”.

Then I drive to work with the phone gasping for electricity like a fish lying on a pier deck.

I lost my car charger so the phone struggles as I drive to work.

“I’ll bet you learned your lesson”, I scolded.

The Ultrasound

I got the ultrasound this afternoon. This very attractive young blonde woman with a thick Russian accent asked me to slip my pants down a ways. Normally this takes several dates but I obliged.

Then I rolled on my side, she began the ultrasound and she said, “Breeze deeply and hold. You can breeze normally again.”

This went on for 15 minutes on my right kidney and about minutes 5 on my left kidney, concluded with a cursory look at my bladder.

“I see you have to use ze bathzroom very soon Mr. Hunnicutt.”

“Yes, do you see anything?”

“I am not allowed to say.”

Then someone who checked behind her scanned my right kidney for another few minutes.

So I assume the two stones that were in there from two years ago are still there because I saw stuff on the picture pointing to a couple of small dark spots.

I’ll find out soon I’m sure.

A Very Wise Observation

Whatever it is that kills you is going to be very serious.

Three Things

Today is a big day. At noon I head off to get an ultrasound to find out if my stone is a boy or girl.

Actually I do hope they can locate it and give me some predictions. Right now it is not painful but I am scent marking as much as old Duke my male Border Collie. I hate that urgency to go and it is a false alarm.

Yesterday I drank a ton of water and went down to the gym to do a strenuous workout hoping to bust something loose. All I did was get a good workout and burn some stress.

When I was coming home yesterday I saw a lady giving hand signals as she was turning right. I thought her signal light was broken but it wasn’t. I wonder why she did that. You never see people giving hand signals anymore…at least the Department of Motor Vehicle kind.

I told Gigi about it (yes, we must be hard up for conversation topics) and she saw someone doing the same thing a few days ago.

Do ya’ll remember how to give correct hand signals for braking, left turn, and right turn?

It is so hot and dry here. Everyone hates it but me. Call me sick but I think this is perfect weather. If we could just get a better breeze, some cocoanut trees, and a gigantic area of Tidy Bowl blue salt water, then I would declare it paradise.

Now I Have Something To Do

Well…it seems the kidney stone fairy may have blessed our house again this weekend. I woke up Sunday and all my body plumbing pipes felt funny. Monday morning and I was having mild pain in my mid-right back.

I had a kidney stone two years ago and it was as fun as getting tasered, only lasted much longer.

Gigi and I headed out early morning on an errand. I called my doctor on the way for an appointment to check me out in the afternoon. They told me to drink lots of Cranbury juice. I hate that stuff unless it has rum in it. I would just as soon drink tobacco spit. Gigi gleefully poured me glass after glass and laughed at the faces I made.

We decided to stop by Cracker barrel for some nourishment. I needed to drop by the men’s room when I discovered my boxers were on backwards.

Gigi wanted to know why I didn’t go in the stall and reverse the error. Silly girl, that would be a breech of man code. Men don’t go into Cracker Barrel and get half naked no matter what the reason.

So I am set for an ultra sound Wednesday. I got a prescription for some good pain meds and a leather strap to bite on in case the blessed event comes early.

I know what causes this. For some reason I love the hot weather. We hit 104 three times last week and I was out in it like a kid in a snow storm. I get dehydrated and bam, the pain starts.

A Shameless, Cheap Laugh

Gigi talked with her brother Mark last night. Mark, his father, and their son all went up to Michigan to spend some time at their unsellable house.

This morning Gigi told me that Mark said that dad was tripping a lot.

I told her that retirement can be boring, let the man drop a few hits of acid once in a while.

Gigi fell out with laughter.

We’ll deal with the real issue in time.

Personal Time Capsule

My garage is a living time capsule. It contains no cars, only forensic evidence of our last 18 years here in this house.

My garage is a classic. It was built in 1974. It has no fancy drywall walls or ceiling, and no fancy lights. Bare light bulbs barely illuminate a musty 24X24 collection of tools, Christmas decorations, abandoned projects, and junk.

I ventured into the bowels of my garage this afternoon. Deeper and deeper I ventured to visit some stuff I hadn’t seen in six years.

I have bags of stuff from stores that have long since gone bankrupt, or have long been out of business, for projects that I never started or never finished. Funny thing is that I can remember buying about each bagful of stuff and it brings back memories.

I was digging through a tool box and it reminded me of digging through my father’s toolbox. Same smells, same dirt, same grease.

I have pesticides, paint, oil, gasoline, and other deadly things. There is actually some stuff in the rafters from the people who lived here before us. There are mowers, chainsaws, weed eaters, blowers, rakes, shovels, ladders, camping stuff, golf stuff, fishing stuff, my father’s golf clubs from the 1970’s, Boy Scout stuff from my childhood, bikes, lawn chairs, a table saw that I never finished putting together, and cabinets and boxes full of who knows what.

I could really use that space for some new junk. I have promised Gigi for years that I will clean out this stuff, but I haven’t.

Sunday Afternoon Jeep Ride

Cedie and I took our weekly Jeep ride and I decided to take along the camera. Gigi bought Cedie a new seat belt harness which she hated.


My Friend Is Back

My sunrise buddy is back. Last year I would watch the sunrise down on the boardwalk via the web cam, and there was always a guy sitting there enjoying the sunrise with me.

I guess with both got busy with our lives. He stopped showing up or I stopped watching. I don’t remember.

But this morning I am there, peering thru a lens of glass at a spectacular sunrise. He sits there quietly on the bench facing the morning sky.

My sunrise here is just starting to break. How fortunate I am to see two sunrises on two places that I know well and love.

The Starbucker meme

I was tagged by Liv and Terri last week. Both are powerful women, so I’d better get busy before I get in trouble.

The instructions:

Here’s an opportunity to let your creativity flow. Tell us:

1. How full is your glass?
2. What kind of glass is it?
3. What’s in the glass?
4. Reasons for #1, #2 and #3.

My responses:

1. My glass is half empty.
2. My glass is one of those old squatty diner water glasses with the swirl.
3. Cold ice water.
4. My glass is definitely half empty and this motivates me to action. Face it, at 51 you start getting the faintest glow of light showing at the end of the tunnel. I start filling out my list of “one of these days I’m gonna do”, and figure out what you really want to do in life. Tell hell with that trip to Africa, I’ll see it in the afterlife. I’d rather go see friends now. My glass is clear and so is the water. My intentions are clear, my life is refreshing, and my friendships sustain me. I am super fortunate that my best friend sleeps beside me every night.


It’s time now for a gentler, tree hugging me.

I worry far too much about having enough fresh water. Not just for me fool, I mean the entire planet.

Heck I have a 340 foot water well here that produces the coldest, best tasting water around. 4 out of 4 Border Collies prefer it.

The well was drilled in 1974 and has been producing ever since. This house used to have a 20,000 in ground pool that I know was filled from this well at least three times. We have the same water well for the guest house, barn, and main house. Very rarely have to spend money on the well. We had to install a new pump a few years ago, and every so often I change the sediment filters.

For sewage water we have a septic tank and septic field that work dependably. Once we had it pumped and the guy insisted that Gigi look in to see the crust buildup. That term both about make use puke. We both love crusty bread and would prefer this term be reserved for bread only, and never for accumulated doo-doo.

My friends in the city are on municipal water. This is pumped from the Catawba River, processed, and pumped into their homes. Every month they get a bill for this fresh water and then a bill for their nasty water that the city takes away, processes, and dumps back into a creek that flows back to the Catawba River Basin. Then South Carolina gets their shot at this water, J.

But when you think about it, we have the same amount of water as we did 4 billion years ago and we’ve gone from zero to 10 billion people, all wanting and needing fresh water to stay alive. Plus industry uses a tremendous amount of fresh water.

Cities like Los Angeles suck up water from all over with little thought to the future.

I think there are three things we should do now to protect this resource.

Practice conservation. Don’t over water, don’t waste water.

Homes in desert and drought prone areas (Los Angeles, Phoenix, Vegas) should be using cisterns. Anyone should consider cisterns in new construction. Cisterns collect rainwater, store it, and process it. A single rainy day can collect a tremendous amount of water that would otherwise be runoff.

Homes in these areas should have a process to use their gray water (water from anything but the toilet) to water their lawns and landscape. I have seen this work in resort areas in CA.

You can also do little things. If you have a ½ drunken bottle of water you are about to throw away, please release the water back in the environment by watering a house plant or pour it on the ground. If you toss the water in the bottle, it may be trapped in the landfill for hundreds of years before it is released back into the environment.

Share a shower with your mate. Saves water and it damn fun.

Lastly, consider giving to an organization that drills water for drought prone areas of the world like parts of Africa. A deep water well can be drilled over there for around $1,500 and it changes lives.

Everyone should have fresh, clean water.

A Quick Lunch

My buddy Don and I ducked into the mall today for a quick lunch at Subway.

There is an old guy in our building that is nice as hell but he is stone deaf so communication with him is difficult. He has the big stick out ears, so we call him the deaf guy with big ears. We don’t know his real name but we are cordial to him when we see him.

He lips reads very well and talks fairly well for a deaf person. The problem is he will trounce a conversation because he doesn’t know someone is talking unless he sees them.

A while back, he got a cochlear ear implant and communication is much better. However he doesn’t wear the implant very often.

So if we see him, we have to see if his hearing equipment is installed or we avoid him. I know this all sounds cruel, but damn it is stressful to be around him when he is completely deaf.

He came walking up today in the mall food court without his ear implant. We said our hellos and he moved on.

Don’s only comment was, “Please tell me if I start wearing my pants up around my arm pits.”

“I will man.”

We headed back to the office.

How Many Times Have You Been Fired?

I have been fired from three jobs in my working career.

The first time was for incompetence, and I’ll admit that. I hated what I was doing and I did enough to get by. Still, it took a while for them to build up the nerve to fire me.

The second time I was fired was from a job I hated, but I was good at it. I was fired for insubordination. I can be a loud mouth smart-ass.

The third time I was fired was for big time insubordination from a big national company. I was almost literally tossed out the door. I can be a loud mouth smart-ass and a bit of a hot head. It cost me a lot of money but in the long run it boosted my career.

So I sat down and asked my self, “How’s this working for you Reg?”

I am still a loud mouth smart-ass and a bit of a hot head in my head, but I keep my thoughts to myself.

I have managed to stay gainfully employed since.

Sometimes though, it is fun to go down in a blaze of glory.

Stop Polluting My Air

I don’t get this. At my office building I see more and more people sitting in their cars at lunch. They sit there by their self, with the air conditioning running, while consuming a take out meal.

People, part of the deal of buying prepared food is they let you eat it there too.

Look around. That big room with all the people is a dining room. Look at what they are doing. They are eating the food that they just bought there.

The Verdict Revealed Today

As some of you may have noticed, I have not written lately about my exploits on the golf course. This is because I have almost stopped playing, due to my right pinky finger injury.

I have had the last joint on my right pinky finger splinted for 10 weeks. That last joint on my pinky has not bent or moved for 10 weeks, under doctors orders.

I have been the brunt of jokes and ridicule by having my pinky finger bound and extended. The jokes are especially vicious when I drink coffee or wine, when my finger is extended like a dandy boy.

Today I will go back to the hand doctor to see if this ligament has healed on its own, hopefully so.

Too Much Information

It’s funny how small our world has become.

I drove the Jeep today with the top off. Yes that was stupid, it’s darn near 100 here today.

Anyway, I just checked the local radar to see if any pop-up showers were on the way. Nothing bad…let me check Puerto Rico and St Croix. Oh, I see a little squall line headed toward the island.

I flipped over to the webcam and saw the dark ominous skies coming in. Then the rain burst forth in sheets, and the boardwalk cleared.

In a month I’ll be there.

Lunch News From the South

I went to lunch with a buddy today. We were chatting about the events of the day when I decided to look around the room.

There was one guy sitting there eating who was oblivious to his surroundings. He was in his eating zone. It was like watching a snake eat his prey.

This guy had a shoveling system going and he was very efficient at tossing groceries down his neck. He would stir his food quickly and toss more in his mouth as soon as any room became vacant.

At first I was repulsed. Then I was in awe. Finally, I appreciated his love of what he was doing, and the efficient way he was doing it.

He finished devouring his food, left a tip, and left the dining area.

He sure did make me sit up and take notice of my eating habits.

XIV Comments

I am so glad my religion doesn’t require special clothing, hair, self mutilation, a hat or whiskers, beads or other accessories. I don’t have to flog myself with chains, wave smoke around, burn incense, or have a statue of a fat guy, or elephant. I am not governed by guilt, threats, or personal enlightenment. My religion is very logical and straight forward, to me at least. Others make religion so complicated. Even people in my religion make it too complicated.

I like my meals to be at the right time of day. Let’s not eat lunch at 2:30 or supper at 4:00. The only exception is brunch, and only on Sunday. If you plan to eat a meal at an odd ball time, please clearly tell me in advance, or I will get very grouchy.

How come women that smoke cigarettes heavily usually have skinny legs?

I find most English accents charming, whether it is British, Southern US, South African, Caribbean Island dialects, Cajun, or whatever. An Australian accents grinds on my nerves. There are too many hard sounding syllables.

I don’t like coconut shrimp. I love shrimp, and I love coconuts, but don’t like the pairing of the two.

I have never had a speeding ticket because I do not speed. Oh, I may drive 5 MPH over the speed limit, but nothing worth pulling me over.

I took a flying lesson a few years ago. I thought it would be cool to fly somewhere over 200 MPH and be there in a jiffy. I got vertigo so bad when I banked at 30 degrees that I decided to become a land lover and drive at 55 on roads.

I seem to have more energy and stamina at 51 than I did at 17. I can relax and enjoy the moment more now, than I could at 45. I was probably in the best shape of my life at 40. I could be in better shape now if I worked out harder and cut calories. I’m stuck on a 30 minute cardio a day and need to add weights to the routine.

As sick as this sounds, I love the smell of diesel fumes and jet fuel fumes. I hate the smell of gas fumes and gasoline.

I hate with all my heart, to hear real estate ads read out loud to me. Gigi loves to read real estate ads out loud. She knows that I hate to hear ads read to me and can’t seem to refrain from reading them. I would prefer hearing “Watching Scotty Grow”, by Bobby Goldsboro 24 hours nonstop over hearing another real estate ad.

I have been married for almost 28 years. Sometimes it is difficult to be best friends, lovers, and roommates. It is heaven when all three are working. I got very lucky to find Gigi. She actually found me.

If I changed jobs, I would like to be a wine steward or a cellar master at a nice restaurant in the Virgin Islands. I think I would be too lazy, and it would be unnecessary to be a trained wine sommelier. I know what I like, how it pairs with food, and I can taste very well after 2:00 PM. Somehow I can’t taste well in the morning.

Gigi has the prettiest blue eyes. Sometimes (today), we look very close into each others eyes. She is amazed how brown my eyes are, and I am amazed how blue her eyes are. Try it with your spouse/lover/friend.

You know when a movie, or TV show is bad, when they start playing music instead of talking dialogue.

Do you remember a few years ago that we were all suppose to die from the bird flu? In the 1970’s it was the swine flu, and somewhere in between Africanized honey bees were supposed to swarm and kill us all. I wonder what bogy man story the press will come up with next.

Real vs Bad

Yesterday we ate out for breakfast down near the marina.

I love marina stores. I went to West Marine the other day in Charlotte just to buy my cool new sunglasses and flip flops. I love to look at the stainless steel doohickeys, the charts, rope, and all the nautical stuff.

I am breaking in my new flip flops. I have two giant quarter sized blisters on the bottom of my feet. This always happens until I get the strap broken in.

Anyway at breakfast yesterday I coolly slid my new sunglasses on top of my head and Gigi took notice.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m wearing my glasses on top of my head like everyone else on earth.”

“But you don’t do that. It doesn’t look like you”.

She carefully gave me some positioning pointers until she was satisfied that I was looking cool.

Back to breakfast now…sorry for the subject wondering.

I ordered a shrimp omelet, thinking about the fluffy marvelous seafood omelet that I last ate at the Golden Rail Café at the St Croix Marina.

The waitress asked if I wanted biscuits or toast.

“Are they real biscuits?” I asked. I was afraid they were serving Pillsbury canned biscuits and didn’t wants any part of that.

“Oh yes sir, they are real” she said.

I should have been more specific and asked if they were shitty biscuits, because they were. The omelet looked like barely cooked seafood in an egg burrito. It was terrible.

Avoid PJ’s at the marina in Southport. Slow food, bad food, but good service.

Fun Friday

Gigi and I took the two dogs that love water the water the most to the beach yesterday. The water was a clear as I have ever seen down here. It was nothing like the Caribbean or Gulf, but clear for NC waters.

Cedie made a fool of herself jumping in and out of the ocean and body slamming into Peaches. Cedie always draws a crowd because she is one cute Aussie dog, and she only has three legs. People are fascinated by her mobility and attitude.

I got the dumb-ass award earlier in the day. We decided to move the RV to the next pad early Friday. I carefully unplug stuff, hooked up other stuff and gradually pushed out the behemoth when a I heard a sizable snap.

I had left up the bat-wing antenna and it got caught in low hanging power lines. The antenna broke off and fortunately nothing or no one got a power surge.

I patched the hole with hurricane duck tape. I didn’t there was another duct tape. It was bright yellow, wide and said it will hold in a 200 MPH wind. That should do for now.


It is good to be back in Southport. Gigi and I went to the waterfront, sat in the swings, watched ocean freighters being tugged in to the port at Wilmington and generally soaked up the warm sun.

This place is so quintessential “coastal”. Southport looks like a throwback town to 1910. We find it very quaint.

I am always disappointed however in a town or area that treats tourists as distrusting strangers, when that town thrives on tourist dollars.

Please local people, relax, smile, and be nice. My goal is to relax and drop a few dollars for your fine goods and services. It ruins the ambiance when you act begrudgely and resentful. Yes, we are temporary. Yes in comparison we can be loud and obnoxious. Yes we are sometimes irreverent to your local customs.

I used to live in a tourist town and could never understand why the locals hated tourists so much. If they would have acted nice then I’m sure they could have squeezed 40% more money out of their guests.

It’s is like any business or crop, do you best, and you will get the best yield.

Fertilize us with smiles, local stories, or special places we should see.

I have a waitress down here that I seek out. Her name is Amanda. She is my counterpart to Jody in St Croix. I trust her opinion on the catch of the day, and take her suggestions on what to eat, and how it should be prepared. She is smart, funny, and is a home grown local.

This town could use a few more Amanda’s.

Balloon Knots and Dirty Air

Haley and I are headed back to Southport today to meet back up with my bride.

I was just cleaning the horse stalls for the last time and saw a squirrel had drowned in a water trough. That’s sad. Poor little squirrel was just trying to get his drink on.

Have you ever noticed that a horse ass looks like a giant balloon knot?

Anyway, it is hot here in the 90’s which is fine by me, but the ozone/pollution warnings are out today. I hate dirty hot air. Once this pattern sets up, it will stay until fall. The air has been good up until now.

Soon it will be time to head south to the Caribbean where the only dirty air is a little dust blown over from Africa. I’m looking forward to seeing my friends down there.

I’m looking forward to walking on the boardwalk tonight at the Cape Fear River, eating some seafood and catching up with Gigi.

Well, I’m going to shower and get out of here.

Summer Stuff

I’m starting to think about our next trip down to St Croix. We plan to go down September 8, and stay for a week.

When the weather is warm here, I only take flip flops for shoes. You can wear them anywhere on the island.

My favorite Sperry flip flops blew out a few weeks ago. I looked around for some new ones but they have changed the style and no longer offer the same design.

So I headed off this mid-day in the beast to West Marine, just to see if they had any old Sperry’s still in stock. Not a chance.

The sales lady insisted that the store brand was just as comfortable and her husband had two sets that he loved. I took her advice, not knowing her husband, or even that she was actually married.

Then I passed the sunglasses rack and started to think about what Liv said, “Get a good pair of sunglasses, it will hide a multitude of sins.”

So I get theses sunglasses and I think they look cool. They hide my eyes well and cover the crow’s feet on the side.

My right ear is lower than the left ear so I have to adjust the glasses to look straight. I swear that ear drops further south every year.

Anyway, riding back to the office I started worrying that they were too big, so big that they may look like the glasses old folks used to wear after cataract surgery.

I met my buddy for lunch and he asked, “Are those new sunglasses?”

“Yeah…do they look okay? I mean it doesn’t look like I just had eye surgery?”

“Oh no, they look good.”

Okay, maybe I finally have cool glasses that I can wear on the top of my head like some ornamental broach. Heck I might even wear them on the back of my head or on my neck. The possibilities are endless.

A Rant

I am spending a great deal of time with the animals that are left behind, i.e. our horses, our two cats and Haley, our youngest Border Collie.

We have three horses and they are Gigi’s horses. One is very old and I am surprised to see her alive every morning. The other two are younger, majestic and beautiful.

Gigi used to ride but her physical abilities are limited with fibromyalgia. I holdout hope that one day she will feel good enough to hop on one and ride.

Our general animal policy is any animal that comes in to our possession is taken car of until death. We get attached to our animals and they get attached to us.

So it is, that we have three pet horses.

What really gets me mad is when someone challenges my reason for owning horses. They’ll sarcastically ask, “Do you ride them?”


“Then why don’t you get rid of them.”

This angers me more than it should for several reasons. First, it is none of your damn business if I have elephants and squirrel monkeys if it is not harming anyone or causing a nuisance.

Second, unbeknownst to you, you have insulted my wife, and her physical limitations.

Third, why is a horse only good for riding? Guess what, I own 4 herding sheep dogs and I don’t own any sheep. My truck has seating for 5 but there are only two of us. I have cats and use rat and mice poison at the barn. I have a parrot and I am not a pirate.

I am not a horse person. I rarely ride, but I have promised Gigi that I would take care of them if something happened to her.

And you know what? I find pleasure in just being around them.