Childhood

Watching Mad Men from the beginning. Finding it very thought-provoking. I remember some of that time. My dad traveled a lot. At first, I remember we took him to the airport, and my mom would cry. People would have us over for dinner because my mom was alone. Eventually, we stopped taking him to the airport. And my mom stopped crying. And either the invitations stopped coming, or we didn't go. My mom was left alone during some real crises - the Hurricane Agnes flood in 1972, for example. She learned to handle things.
The periodic absences of my father really had an impact on the family. He would sometimes be away over a birthday and send me a telegram. As my brother and I got older, it seemed there was more and more to catch him up on when he came home.
He always reminded me of the Rocket Man in the Ray Bradbury story. When he was home, he wanted to be traveling. When he was traveling, he wanted to be home.
Postcards, letters and telegrams aren't the same thing as watching your children grow up. Producing presents from your suitcase doesn't make up the time you've lost.
I'm not sure which trip was the "one too many" that pushed my mom to take on both roles, but she's still a very strong, independent woman. And sometimes, that's not ideal. Now that Dad's semi-retired, she's having to learn to actually live with him,and it isn't easy.
Strange how a television show can bring all of this stuff to the surface....

Evening At Giant - A Play in 3 Acts

Who knew going to the grocery store could be so stressful?
Act 1: I was following a guy down an aisle when a woman comes up to him, accuses him of avoiding her, and demands money. Not sure what it was about - I suspect it was some kind of child support thing. I managed to get past them, and moved on with my shopping.
Act 2: A domestic that I suspect was over a cell phone - I don't remember a whole lot of the details to that. It was very loud and occasionally profane.
Act 3: I was taking my cart out to the car through the vestibule and I hear yelling. There was a group of mostly Asian kids standing outside. Two of them were store employees. They weren't causing trouble. A woman was standing there screaming at them that they should go back to their f---ing countries and stop taking all of our jobs. And if they want to be here, they should speak the f---ing language and on and on. Her husband finally pulled her away. One of the kids was recording the incident on his cell phone - good thinking. That's the kind of woman who would claim the kids attacked her. I was afraid to go out there - I was really afraid that they'd think I agreed with her because I'm white. This is why kids turn to drugs and gangs. People like her who let them know that's what's expected. If you're going to shop in a neighborhood of mostly Hispanics and Asians, you should EXPECT them to speak other languages. It's like going to Chinatown in any US city and expecting to see all of the signs in English. I thought diversity was what this country is all about. Isn't it?

The Recipe

Ingredients: One 8-9 lb cat named Marshall who likes little rituals and routines. One neighbor who is deaf, and her VERY extended family (4 generations - between 3 and 8 people living there at any one time and they own at least four cars). Certain days the street cleaner comes -- if you're parked on that side of the street, you get a ticket. One kitty-gym scratching post by my front door. One front door comprised of 36 panes of glass.

I go home for lunch almost every day. It's a nice break from the office, and I get to spend some time with my cats. It's easier to park out front, so at lunchtime I enter and leave through the front door.

Marshall likes to jump up on the kitty-gym scratching post when I'm leaving - I call it "the kissy-place". If I tell him to go to the kissy-place, he jumps up for his kiss goodbye.

Last week, all of these things collided like the story of the Old Woman and her Pig. I was home for lunch and was ready to go back to work. I told Marshall to go to the kissy place. Just as he was jumping up, the deaf woman next door burst out of her house screaming at the top of her lungs - members of her family were outside and she wanted them to move their cars because the street cleaner was coming. That scared the life out of Marshall, who decided the kissy place was not such a great idea and went the opposite way. Through my feet. In order not to snap him in half and perhaps fall into/through 36 panes of glass, I elected to take a dive sideways onto my lounge chair. That gave my ankle one of the better twists I've had in a while. So tomorrow I get to see an orthopedic surgeon.

No moral, no point. Just seeing if I could put this story together coherently.

It doesn't stop

Apparently, parents save up those awful, annoying things that we do as kids. Then, when we're adults, they reimagine those things into something even worse. My mother is a champ at this. First of all, she is TRULY relentless with the telephone. If I do not answer the phone, she will call the cell. If I don't answer that, she calls the house again. Believe me -- this is VERY annoying when I'm in the shower or otherwise using the bathroom.
Today was payback for "are we there yet". They were coming to pick me up. I got sidetracked weeding the yard, and when she called and asked if I was ready, I asked her to give me 10 minutes. I was getting into the shower 2 minutes later when the phone rang again (I have ident-a-ring, so yes, I know who it was!). I got into the shower. The cell phone rang. I let that go, too.
I asked for ten minutes. This does NOT mean that you call every two minutes and ask if I'm ready yet. In the time it takes to answer the phone and tell you my status, I could be making more progress in getting ready. Okay. I feel better now. Thanks.

Attack of the Killer Picture

There are a few laws of physics that apply only to me. If it is flying through the air, it will hit me in the eye. If it is falling, it will land on my foot.
I have a picture in my bathroom. It's quite nice - an undersea series of colorful, interesting fish in a very sturdy metal frame. But I'm not very good at hanging pictures. And I sometimes have balance issues. Especially when I first wake up.
My bathroom is 6x6. Amazingly, everything fits in there that should, but sometimes maneuvering can be difficult. A year or so ago, the size of the bathroom, my balance issues, and lack of picture hanging skills all collided. Quite literally. At 5:00 a.m. I knocked the picture off of the wall. The sharp metal corner went into my foot. The picture is quite heavy, and that is NOT a mess you want to deal with when you're not awake. Going from not awake to in shock isn't good either. The picture survived intact.
I eventually recovered. I have an interesting scar on my foot now. Some months later, I knocked the thing off the wall again. Fortunately I got my feet out of the way. This time, the glass shattered. My brother works for a photographer and reglazed it for me.
This morning, I knocked the picture off the wall again. This is turning into a habit. This time, it landed on a miniature ceramic bathtub that I'd been using to keep cat toys in. The small bathtub never had a chance - it shattered. I loved that little tub. And now my oldest cat is upset. She doesn't see very well, and doesn't like it when things change.
The pictire is back up on the wall. Biding its time.

An Observation

My mind wanders when I type. Dictation can be sort of mindless, if you've been taking it from the same person for as many years as I have.
Today it occurred to me that legal documents can be a LOT like The House That Jack Built. Especially corporate documents. "Said governing bodies being the governing authorities of the municipalities which incorporated this Authority that ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built...."
Okay, that was weird.

America. No. The Other One.

Did any one ever find out what PLANET the group America came from? I like the music, but it's best if you don't listen too closely. I mean, first of all, there's Horse with No Name. I have to agree with Dave Barry here: You're in the desert. There is nothing else to do. Name the damn horse!
America had some interesting lyrics. America also had some frighteningly bizarre lyrics, such as those in Ventura Highway. What are alligator lizards? And what are they doing in the air? Are you telling me that these things FLY? And why would you want to be outside with THOSE things out there? If you have wind blowing through your hair, I assume you're outside.
How BIG are these alligator-lizards? Would a standard screen keep them out of my house? Huge bugs are bad enough, but alligator lizards that fly would definitely keep me away from.... wherever it is they're talking about. "Alligator lizards in the air...." Well don't just stand there, guy! Call an exterminator!
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds taught us how interesting things can become if you look at your child's drawing while on LSD. I don't know what America was on - whether it was drugs or whether they're from another planet entirely. Or maybe they were ill. Is it contagious? Can I get shots? In any case, I'm weirded out now.