I may move my office in the spring when my lease expires. I have been in the same place since 2000 and frankly I am getting bored and want a change. I have looked all around the city and recently looked downtown.
Downtown
Everywhere you look are construction cranes and heavy equipment tightly packed into the confines of a city block.
The light rail commuter started running last week and suddenly the city looks futuristic.
Yes, downtown
I miss my daily banter with my Cruzan friends Michael and Terry. They took the week off celebrating their anniversary and headed to a remote island further south. I can’t wait to hear about the adventure.
I feel like I have lost touch with the island that I love in their absence.
Plus I miss the occasional zinger that Terry will fling out and the quick wit of Michael.
I’ll try not to be all clingy when they get back in Internet range.
*****
When you are in your 50’s you begin to think a bit differently and people treat you differently. Just the other day my dentist was looking all around in my mouth beyond my teeth.
“Doc, what the hell are you looking at?”
“Just looking for any signs of oral cancer, it tends to come on at your age.”
*****
Tonight perhaps the greatest NFL game of the season will be played and I can’t wait. I am one of the fortunate few that have the NFL channel on Direct TV. I’m all a flutter.
*****
Friday my Jeep will go under the wrench again for perhaps the most dramatic cosmetic mechanical surgeries yet.
I will drive to
This will allow me enough room to add 2 more inches in tires for a nice but not too redneck lift of 4 inches. The new tires will have to wait; those big old redneck mud tires are expensive just for a cosmetic effect.
While in
I bought a shell from this guy in September. He taught me where and how to cut the end to make the shell a horn. I told him I had seen him before on the cam and he smiled.
His shells are beautiful.
He was right too. It made a fantastic horn.
We are in the finale of leaf dropping here in the Piedmont of North Carolina. Normally we are quite done with leaves by now but our severe drought has caused the leaves to hang onto the trees longer than usual.
It rained yesterday so it is that many leaves fell and they are all wet or slick depending on how you encounter them.
I had leaves on the windshield and hood of my truck that clung on safely all the way to work. They stayed glued on for 18 miles while I drove speeds in excess of 55 MPH. If they stay on the paint the leaves will release tannins and tannic acid which will etch a leaf print on the hood.
If several of these leaves are stacked on each other they become slick and you will loose traction on foot or in a car.
Worse yet, it is darn near impossible to blow wet leaves.
So, I will rent the giant blower again sometime in the next week and spend 8 hours doing what I did last week all over again.
Goodbye fall and hello winter.
Did you ever wonder about the Christmas song, the 12 Day of Christmas where everything is a living being except the 5 gold rings?
I did and decided to dig into this. It seems that all the gifts up to the 7th day are birds if you assume that the writer was giving 5 gold ringneck pheasants. They are beautiful birds fit the song much better.
So whenever you see those idiot calculations about how much the 12 day of Christmas is costing, subtract out the gold ring and add 5 pheasants and you’ve got your total.
Nothing like oyster stew on a cold day and presentation is everything. Yes, the doily makes the difference.
Yesterday I popped in the local Food Lion for some odds and ends when this guy walked up to me and asked me if I would sell my Jeep to him.
I was caught off guard and giddy as a school girl all at once. Ever since I got the paint compounded and buffed the old Jeep has been turning heads.
“I’m sorry, it’s not for sale.”
“Well, how much would you sell it for?”
I did a quick calculation in my head. I bought it for $3,000 in February; I have maybe $2,750 in upgrades not including the new lift kit I just picked up.
“I would say $7,000, but I can’t sell it. It is too much fun.”
I got to thinking about all this and how flattered I was. I guess being a middle aged man, my Jeep is now my masculine persona since I am too lazy to pump iron and doubt the results would live up to the manliness of the Jeep.
Today marks 28 years of marital bliss for Gigi and me.
It was a rainy Saturday in November 1979 when we tied the knot. I was still in my senior year in college and got married on the Thanksgiving break. Gigi was working at the now defunct Eastern Airlines.
We were married in the cavernous Myers Park Presbyterian Church by Rev. Randy Taylor. He was very hesitant to marry us. He was convinced we were a bad match.
Our reception was at my mother in laws house.
Everything was simple, small and inexpensive, the rehearsal dinner, the wedding and the reception.
Gigi and I left to stay overnight and the fanciest place in
We were ill equipped to be married. We were both way too immature but we stuck it out.
I cannot imagine life without her now. We are both totally different people and have grown over the years to love these new people we evolve into.
Has life turned out like I imagined 28 years ago? Well, yes and no.
Do we fight? Yes.
Do we make up? In our good time.
Do I still bring her flowers and coffee in bed? Yes.
Is she still beautiful? Heck yes.
I would compare this to a well developed tasting ability where some claim not only to catch the fine flavors of wine such as berries, leather and tobacco, but they go even further to claim they can taste the minerals in the wine from the ground the grapes grew in.
I personally think this fine tuned tasting ability is hogwash.
I have digressed though.
My dear friends in
In the message Michael and Terry made shivery sounds and said it was cold down there.
Bull hockey I say!
Please, examine exhibit 1 below of the annual average temperatures in
Now look at exhibit 2 the annual average temperatures in
So, it was 72 this morning down there? Must be a cold snap. Up here we call that perfect room temperature.
Be careful not to let your nipples poke anyone in the eye.
Beer is always better if you can’t find the brand locally.
I remember in the 1980’s that Coors was not nationally distributed and therefore the taste of it was legendary around here. We would get cases smuggled to us from cross country truckers. When Coors came to town on a regular basis, we all agreed that it was just beer.
The same holds true for Stroh’s beer in the 1970’s. We had to drive to
Now my friends, the hype of Land Shark beer is drawing to an end. I went to the local grocery store today and there at the end of an isle was a giant display of Land Sharks at $6.99 a 6 pack. Damn.
That 12 pack I have in my frig that my nephew smuggled up just few weeks went down in value.
Do you remember that spiced rum I made last year? It’s still there and it is VERY good. I stopped at the grocery store not only to stare at Land Sharks but mainly to buy a quart of egg nog.
We mixed some of the home made Cruzan spiced rum with the egg nog and it was nirvana.
If I offer to prepare someone a portion of what I am about to eat and they make a face like I just offered them a mug of monkey snot. Gigi is bad about this. “Honey, I’m going to make some oatmeal. Do you want some?”
She makes a monkey snot face.
Okay then, I’ll pass too.
Or if some one asks about a dress code when all the while they are fishing for the minimally acceptable clothing they can possibly wear and not be embarrassed, thrown out, or embarrass me.
This question comes into play at our private club. We have dress code standards but they are loose compared to most private clubs.
Everyone acts like they want to wear cut off jeans and a halter top because they cannot wear them there.
I can recite this in my sleep, “Nice pants, no jeans, a collared shirt, no tee shirt, and a jacket in the main dining room. Same on the golf course, but no jacket. No swimsuits in the club, only by the pool. If you must, you can wear jeans in the lounge, but do jeans look good on you after 50? No cell phone in the main dining room.”
Oh you would think I have made up these rules and it involved rubbing hot tar on their bare skin.
What is wrong with dressing nice once in a while? I didn’t say a word about anything semi or formal. Just dress like you want the world to see you at these minimum standards.
Geez! I’m no Esquire dandy boy myself.
Addendum: This picture reminds me when I was a kid visiting the local zoo. I love monkeys (except flying monkeys on The Wizard of Oz). They had a few capuchin monkeys in a cage with a sign, “Do not sick your fingers in the cage, the monkeys bite.”
I stuck my finger in the cage and the monkey bit the shit out of me and wouldn’t let go. I was too proud to scream so I just silently suffered in pain until the little bastard let go.
I had the most amazing adventure when I was in
The adventure was the day I went snorkeling on the far side of
I remember riding in Michael and Terry’s green French fry oil burning machine to the St Croix Yacht club. That truck is so cool.
I remember unloading the truck and dragging out the boat.
I remember leaving my flip flops on the pier and being assured they would be there when I came back.
I remember laughing at the mobility and sea worthiness of their boat. It rolled over the waves and Michael was a great navigator.
I remember seeing a sunken sailboat just under the surface. I meant to dive that but I was exhausted by the time we past that way again.
I remember tacking to the cut in the reef, then approaching the east end of the island.
I remember tying off the boat and having a beer before we dove. The sun was bright and my sunglasses were covered in salt spray. The water was crystal clear and blue. We laughed in the boat and made fun conversation.
I remember Terry plunging into the water and I followed her only to see a grouper greeting us both.
Then my memory goes into an hour or two blur of chasing sea turtles, fish, squid, and looking around for Michael and Terry.
Eventually we went into very deep and very beautiful water. The experience taxed my senses.
I remember looking up and not seeing the boat, and for a moment I panicked. I was in the ocean and I did not have a life jacket or any way to be quickly rescued if I got in trouble. I quickly overcame this sensation and relied on my swimming abilities.
I remember diving underwater and thinking how I would be out of breath when I surfaced. It was worth every dive though.
I mostly swam with my legs and flippers. I have very strong legs. I would get tired when I swam freestyle but was amazed how fast I could go and how invigorating the exercise was.
I remember seeing the same grouper when I came back to the boat.
Lastly, just as Terry promised, my flip flops were still on the pier.
It was a wonderful day.
I walked into the “Hello Mr. Hunnicutt”.
Damn, she knows my name.
She comes back with a reasonable offer. I get $55 back for the international overcharge and I get an unsolicited apology. Both are welcomed and accepted.
Case closed.
Michael got his package 3 weeks after I mailed it.
They got me last night…Dancing with the Stars that is.
So far I have happily avoided this show. I don’t much like to watch good dancers dance, much less amateurs dance.
You see my mother in law is in town for the holiday. This explains why some local animals are turning in circles. Animal have a 5th sense you know.
Any way, last night she runs in and hijacks the TV and commands me to turn on channel whatever. There it was, a bunch of dandy fellows tap dancing all
I shivered at the waste of humanity.
She was memorized.
I went to bed.
I woke up this morning and staggered into the kitchen to make my coffee. I could hear my laptop in the other room gasping for Internet packets and bytes. We must have an Internet outage I thought. The telltale noise of the failed mail pop connection told the story.
I don’t handle life without broadband very well. No email, no news, no blogs, no Craig’s List. I could feel my body wanting to give up and curl in the fetal position.
I fought my urges and picked up the phone and called Time Warner Cable to see what was wrong.
First I must say that I truly hate Time Warner. The feud goes back too far to pinpoint, but just suffice it to say I would use anyone else for broadband if I could. I tried DSL once and I could never connect so I stick with Time Warner.
Actually Time Warner’s service has gotten better over the years and I can feel my cold icy stance melting a bit. It makes me feel awkward to lighten my hatred, like pulling for the Dallas Cowboys. It ain’t right.
I discovered that Time Warner had a new interface when I called. This nice computer man walked me through a few steps and told me that service was down in my area and it should be restored in 90 minutes. Further I didn’t need to talk to anyone.
This made me mad. Oh you cocky computer, you. I told him that I wanted to speak to a person and he connected me with Carl.
Poor Carl stuck on the morning shift. He’s been there a while too, I remember. Carl certainly isn’t an overachiever having been stuck at this same position and time slot for several years.
Anyway Carl told me that this was a planned outage and I should be up and running by 7 AM.
Oops! I can feel my body bowing up now. Hurry Time Warner. Hurry!
A “hate crime” classification is a bit silly to me.
Let’s assume I am about to kill a man I hate for whatever reason. Let’s assume I am straight, and the person I am about kill is gay.
If I kill this person and I get caught, the court will prosecute me based on the fact that he is dead, surrounding evidence, and the circumstances of the murder whether it was premeditated, second degree or manslaughter.
Either way the guy is dead and I am guilty of ending his life.
Let’s say seconds before I murdered this gay person I screamed, “You bad gay person, you!”, then I would be potentially guilty of murder and a hate crime. He is dead, I am a killer, and to top it off, I said something derogatory to this gay person making him feel bad just seconds before he died.
Now I have really done it. He is an insulted dead gay person and I am a hater and a murderer which is much worse than just a plain old every day murderer.
Either way he is still dead.
I don’t get it.
Thanksgiving by far is the coolest of holidays as far as timing goes. It always falls on a Thursday and I like that. A Thursday Holiday basically trashes a respectful work week.
They’ll be football on Thursday, just like yesterday.
I’ll knock off Tuesday and basically my week is done until the following Monday and it will be guiltless.
I did change one holiday tradition this year and blew leaves yesterday rather than the Friday after Thanks giving.
The conditions are optimal for blowing leaves. We haven’t had much rain since April so the little buggers are light and crispy.
I rent this gigantic side discharge blower that will handle mountains of leaves. I start at the top, roof and gutters and work my way out.
I’ll push around two acres of leaves on the other six acres and let them rot. Yes this causes global warming but there is no escaping it. We just didn’t know it until Al Gore told us.
It’s kind of weird that all those leaves produced all that oxygen and sucked up all the CO2. Now the rotting leaves will suck up all the oxygen to rot and produce CO2 back into the air. Next year they’ll do it all over again. Sounds like a cycle to me.
I just though of this…maybe the leaves are giving off greenhouse gasses to stay warm this winter and next spring they will suck up greenhouse gasses to stay cool. Wow trees are smart.
When I was a little kid it would make me so mad when someone told me to put on my thinking cap. I didn’t have a damn thinking cap and I knew there were no such thing; Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny, yes. Thinking cap, no, who were they kidding?
Same with a sweet pill, I knew there was no such thing. I would fake it for my mother but I know I was grouchy and in time I would become ungrouchy. Later they invented sweet pills called Prozac.
I used to have a pair of black Converse high top canvas sneakers that I would wear without socks. They made my feet stink so bad that my mother threw them away one day when I was at school.
I dreamed the other night that I found a wild cigar tree on my property and it was covered in stogies. The cigars were hanging like little pods and some of them already had bands on them. I was told to let them ripen some more and I would have some fine cigars.
Time to go out and blow some more leaves.
This time of year people act very stupid about cooking a damn turkey. It couldn’t be simpler…just like cooking a giant chicken. Just look at the package and follow directions. It is even easier if you use one of those plastic browning bags.
You want simple stuffing? Try Stove Top. It takes a few minutes and no one will know any better. The same for gravy. Open a few jars and heat it up. You’ll be a hero and no one has to know.
We have enough browning bags to last for the next few years. Every year we buy a box and only use one.
I have recently met a person that doesn’t like cinnamon. She could be alone in the world. Everyone but this single person loves cinnamon. It like morphine of the taste buds.
I drove my Jeep to
I had a good hearty laugh when I got home and read Michael’s response in my blog. He is too funny sometimes. I posted in Jive and he resounded in Jive.
I got a flu shot the other day. I get the flu about every three years and hope this will help. I was sick for two weeks last year. Plus they act like if you are a geezer over 50 then you’ll surely die from the flu. I’m 51. I once had a flu shot in the 1970’s and started having seizures. You can see why I have been hesitant since then.
I miss snorkeling very much. It is the perfect exercise and you never overheat. Plus the wildlife and formations you see are breathtaking. I made sure yesterday that my brother-in-law Tom had his snorkeling gear ready for
There was a real Col. Sanders and I saw him face to face once. I grew up in
One day at the shopping center, (we didn’t have malls in the 1960’s) I saw the
Gigi and ah' went t'
De only place around t'accommodate our monsta' RV be an RV Park dat essentially caters t'full time RVers. Most uh dem do wo'k at da damn nearby nuclear plant. Man!
De couple dat runs de place keeps some tight ship. Jes hang loose, brud. De grounds is always well maintained and undesirables is not allowed.
On our last visit ah' ax'ed ha' to place us on some waitin' list so's dat we could park our unit waaay down dere and visit on de weekends. Today she called and said some slot gots'ta be jimmey fo' us in April uh 2008.
De mondly rate includes some concrete pad, power, booze and sewer, some picnic table and grounds keepin'. I’ll hook down de dish fo' TV and dig some local broadband connecshun.
So, we’ll gots some place at da damn beach until we decide oderwise.
We’ll plum hook down de RV when we wanna go t'oda' places likes
