Me, Myself, and the Voices in my Head

Am-Dram is harder than it looks!

2012-03-12T22:18:00.000-05:00

Well, the countdown has started. Things are starting to fall into place, but many other things are still really in need of help.

Our first dress rehearsal for our community theatre's play is over. And we've only got one more to go.

Sadly, because it's a play and not a musical, not as many people will come to see it. We know that already. When we did Seussical: The Musical in 2010, we didn't sell-out any productions but we filled the theatre very well. That's because when you have a huge cast and the majority of them are children, you get all of the parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, distant cousins, etc. lining-up early for tickets. This production of Arsenic and Old Lace is adult-oriented and has no children's parts. For that reason alone, we're not predicting a high turn-out for the show. We'll have people who come to see all of the shows and everyone who comes should enjoy it. We've even censored the language (not that there was much of it to begin with) to make it a family-friendly show.

Because it's going to be a smaller production, we couldn't afford to use the main community center theatre like we did for Seussical. It would be too expensive and even though I'm the technical designer/director for the show, the community center requires us to hire someone specific to run the lights and sound equipment, which is another cost on top of just using the theatre. There's stuff going on all around town and the school's theatre wouldn't be available and we even had to cancel one night's performance before we started because of an event happening in the same place where we'll be performing. We're using the lobby of the community center because it has a large staircase (for Teddy to run up-and-down) and it's cheap. The downside of it is that we (1) don't have any theatrical lighting so everything has to be done either practically (with actual lamps and candles) or imagined, (2) the area echoes badly and the sound of some actors gets lost in the rafters, (3) the audience will be the edge of the performance area (and some performing will take place in the audience), and (4) other people will be coming in-and-out of the building and we don't have any solid walls to keep external sound out. It's a technical nightmare -- and could explain why I've been feeling bad lately. If my name is on something, I want it right and as close to perfect as it can be. This is not easy.

Another downside to community theatre is that it's all volunteer. I'm not saying that I don't enjoy doing this. Volunteering my time/effort is enjoyable for me. However, I love our actors dearly but it's not the same -- you can tell them to be quiet backstage or to not go around the curtains where the audience can see them but that doesn't mean they'll listen to you. It's like herding cats at times.

But there are a lot of good things about doing this show, too. I'm meeting people in town that I would never have gotten to meet otherwise. We're becoming a close "company" and having a lot of fun when we're together. Everyone is enjoying seeing each other and helping each other with their lines, props, and costumes. Plus, with the exception of Eldest Son who's off across the state in college, I'm finally getting to do a theatrical production with all of my immediate family members. Youngest Son is helping-out backstage with props (because there are no parts for kids) and I even convinced Husband to audition and he will be playing Dr. Einstein. It's a fun activity to do together and I've enjoyed helping them learn more about something I'm very excited about.

Tonight was our first night "onstage" in our production area. A lot of lines were forgotten. Some actors were unavailable. Not all of the props and scenery made it to the venue. But everyone did their best. If they keep it up for our last dress rehearsal tomorrow and into our production nights, we'll be fine. If they remember how excited they were when they first got the parts and deliver their lines like they did in our first read-through, we'll be awesome.

Oh, and for those who don't know, "Am-Dram" stands for "amateur dramatics" and, no, I don't allow anyone around me to use the name of The Scottish Play. I'd say "break a leg" but I did that onstage in college and don't want to curse anyone else with it.

Daily post for 3/11/12

2012-03-11T22:00:00.000-05:00

Okay. I'm upright. I can type. I feel like death warmed-over, but since I can post that's what I'm doing. I don't have a topic. I've spent the majority of the day feeling nauseous and my chest hurting. I'm pretty sure it's just stress over the play this week as well as my doctor appointment on Friday. Husband and Youngest Son are taking care of me and I appreciate it greatly. And now, I'm going to lay down again.

Good riddance, Petland!!!

2012-03-10T17:11:00.000-06:00

I'm feeling much better today, so I don't think I'll be ripping my own head off anytime soon as was considered yesterday. I did take some medication, put ice on my head, and took a long nap until Husband and Youngest Son got home from work and school, respectively. I was hoping yesterday that today's weather would be good and I was surprised. It's not only good today, it's awesome! So nice and just the right temperature with just a hint of a breeze to make you feel like springtime is here.

Today we went and took Harley to the groomers at SetPmart. She needed a bath and her nails ground again. I clip them often but it's much nicer after they've ground them down with the Dremel tool because she's much quieter on the hardwood floors. I know Cat doesn't like it because Harley can sneak up on her, but I find it enjoyable. We decided that since there was still the chance of cold weather in this area for the next few weeks we wouldn't get her "Spring Shave" done until the weather stays warmer for a while. Now because she's part poodle, she's all fluffy and "poofy" but still has the schnauzer face. I know it won't last because she's not a girly dog and has already attempted to roll in something unpleasant in the backyard already.

One thing I was very glad to see in the town we visited is that another pet store -- Petland -- has gone out of business. They're notorious for selling dogs from puppy mills and even though they'll tell you they don't it's so obvious they do. I went into that store once when Cody (my previous service dog) was getting older and thought about self-training another sheltie to take-over his job (that's before the state laws were changed and you could train your own service dog). I'd been to the shelters and pounds and Humane Society kennels and hadn't found a sheltie. I thought, just for giggles, I'd go into Petland and see what they had. They were stocked with all of the designer dogs and purebred puppies everyone has been trying to get their hands on. So many kids were sitting in the little "viewing boxes" where they could play with a puppy while their parents sat there and listened to the kid promise and promise to take care of it every day as they were actually trying to decide how to finance the cost of the dog because, being a designer dog, they were very expensive.

I looked around and finally one of the underpaid worker-drones came up and asked if there was something specific for which I was looking. I said that I was looking for a sheltie because my current service dog was getting ready to retire and I wanted to have another of the same breed so that they would bond and the new one could learn quickly from the old one. She said that they didn't have any there that day. I feigned disappointment (I knew about the company and wasn't going to buy one of their dogs anyway) and thanked her for her help. She told me to wait a moment and ran off to the back room. She quickly came back with a piece of paper that said if I paid $1000 that day I could have a sheltie puppy in a week.

What?? No reputable breeder is going to just happen to have new puppies available johnny-on-the-spot. The only way you get what you want, when you want is when you use a vending machine -- and that's just what puppy mills are like. They cram dogs into small wire cages and breed the heck out of them. Then when they're no good for breeding or have gotten older, they dump them or, usually, kill them. Puppy mill dogs are so inbred they have many diseases and deformities that aren't identified to the new owners who take their lovely/expensive new puppy home and watch it begin to get sicker and sicker, if it doesn't just up and die first.

Cody was a rescued puppy mill dog. They used him as a breeder and dumped him when he got older. You could tell he'd never had human contact. Food was just pushed into a cage and if it stayed there he could eat and if it spilled that was too bad for him. He had no idea how to play. You could roll a ball towards him and he'd either look at it as if it was something amazing or he'd run and hide. When we got him after he'd been dumped, they'd shaved all of his beautiful long fur off except for his head and tail. Many puppy mills will do that so they don't have to worry about the dogs' coats getting matted or caught in a cage if they're a profit-making dog. If they're just one of the many waiting to be sold, they often don't care what happens.

I told the Petland clerk that I was not interested in a puppy mill dog and she became quite angry that I would even suggest that their dogs came from puppy mills. I told her that I'd reconsider my opinion if she would provide me with the name and phone number of the breeder so that I could check him/her out and see what types of reports might have been filed by other puppy owners from their dams and sires. She said she couldn't give me the information because I might go to the breeder and just buy the dog myself there instead of through the store. I asked for just the name of the breeder so I could check with the AKC (American Kennel Club) and the Department of Agriculture (that inspects breeders) to make sure I'd be getting a healthy dog. The clerk adamantly told me that she could not give me that information and that my puppy would be healthy because they have a vet on-staff (next door) who checks all of the puppies as they come into the store.

Sure, I'm going to trust a veterinarian that I've never met; never seen references regarding; and who isn't always there at that store to check-over an animal that the company plans to make a large profit on and believe that they're not being pressured to say everything is okey-dokey. I even went back to the vet's office and couldn't get any specific information on the vet, where he/she went to school, their specialties, etc.

After this encounter I saw reports on the news about Petland and how many groups were protesting their sale of puppy mill dogs. The state where I live is one of the largest puppy mill "sanctuaries" because people don't report the owners of the puppy mills and, if you did try to report them, they have no problem showing you by force (usually through the end of a firearm) that they don't want you messing in their business. There are many veterinarians in and near the town in which I live that I researched before I ever took my pets to one when we moved here that had many, MANY bad references and notices online for dealing with puppy mill dogs and signing health certificates of dogs that were transported across the country to new owners -- only to have the puppy become critically ill or die soon after arrival.

I am SO happy that Petland is closed. Okay, yes, if people want to argue about it, it's not good that there are workers from the store who now don't have jobs in this poor economy. But, I usually do research on any company/organization with whom I'm applying for a job, so if I knew that Petland was marketing in puppy mill dogs, I'd never work there. I'd rather work somewhere else for less pay than to watch the dogs suffer as they come in, aren't well, and are handled repeatedly by people who are "just looking" and can't really give the dog a forever home. Heck, I'd work part-time for minimum wage at the local pound or shelter before I'd take a full-time higher-paying job at a store like Petland. What kills me is that the website for this particular store is still up and the parent company is still taking "special orders" and operating out of another town. They had said they were closed for remodeling. Guess it was to remodel their way the heck out-of-town.

As I walked into SetPmart to pick up Harley from her beauty appointment, I took a moment and looked at the dogs and cats inside and outside the store that three different shelters had brought in hopes that they would be adopted. I saw many families looking at the dogs and playing with them. The puppies were obviously the most popular ones but I saw a few looking at some of the older dogs and even overheard one family saying they wanted to adopt an older dog because it wouldn't chew-up the house and they wanted to give it the best last years it could have. I smiled and looked down at Celeste who was staring at me as if to say, "You already have another pest in the house. You don't need any more." I scratched her ears and smiled at the shelter personnel and the families there. True, when Celeste's time comes to retire I'll have to have another certified service dog and will 99% get one from the breeder/trainer where I got Celeste. But when Harley's old and gray and her time here on earth is over, I'll definitely be back at the shelter. And whether it's a puppy or a senior dog, it doesn't matter. Shelter animals love you even more because they know that you've just saved their life and they'll do anything to make yours happy and safe.

I hate my head today

2012-03-09T11:34:00.000-06:00

Okay....quick post because I said that if I could be upright and use the computer that I'd have to post each day. Well, I'm upright. I think I'm using the computer correctly. But my head is screaming at me today.

Yup, it's a migraine day.

I wouldn't even be up on the computer if the ophthalmologist's office hadn't called to schedule my ERG and MRI for next week. Actually, when they heard I was having a migraine they said they wish they'd been able to do one now. Too bad for them. My head and I are going back to lay down with ice on it to try to get rid of this.

So, there's the post for today. Hope you liked it. I'm not even sure what it says of if any is spelled correctly. I'm just trying to check-off my "duty" to post today.

Same info, different day - The continuing rant

2012-03-08T12:26:00.002-06:00

Well, now that my eyes are working again I can get back to the rant I so wanted to start yesterday but had problems seeing my own fingers, much less the keyboard or the monitor.

Let's catch everyone up in the ongoing saga. A few posts back I related the story of what's been happening recently regarding my vision and the lack thereof. I've seen my optometrist; been referred to a glaucoma specialist; been referred to a retinal specialist; have had multiple versions of two different tests taken at each appointment; and was finally being referred to a neuro-ophthalmologist at a large, prestigious college/hospital across the state from me in order to determine what in the heck is happening. Yesterday, Husband and I drove three hours so I could have the scans and exams needed to identify the problem. I'd been advised that it would take a minimum of three hours for everything and readied myself for being shoved into large machines to determine what, if anything, is in there with my eyes and my brain that could be causing the problem.

After arriving at the doctor's office, I was quickly ushered back to a room where a technician asked me a lot of questions about my past medical history and asked me to read letters on the eye chart with my glasses on because my new prescription isn't correcting me to 20/20 (which is what got this whole thing started). She then had me stare at a notepad with a grid on it and asked me to describe what the lines looked like. With one eye I could only see half of the grid and with the other it looked like the lines were wavy and my brain was trying to make sense of it and I started seeing boxes "popping-up" from the page. She looked at me and scribbled notes on her paper. She gave me a color-vision test, which I'm pretty sure I passed easily other than perhaps mistaking a "6" for an "8" because those dots are so small. She asked me more questions, dilated my eyes, and checked the pressure inside of them. It was normal, as I could have told her. In fact, it was lower than it's been in the past few exams.

Then, and here's where I started to get irritated, she asked me why I was there. I told her it was because I was referred by a retinal specialist who said he couldn't help me because a glaucoma specialist said I didn't have glaucoma and that I should see said retinal specialist and that his office was to have emailed my files to this doctor who is part of the same practice and if they needed the files they could go down the hallway to get them. She nodded and wrote more information down on her paper and finally looked in the computer and found the notes from the retinal specialist. She asked me to go out into the smaller waiting room and wait for the doctor.

Celeste was with me (of course) and we made our way to a small seating area to wait. Upon arriving at the seating area, a large African-American woman began to jump up-and-down and grab everything she owned and kept repeating, "It's a dog! It's a dog!" Great....the last thing I needed....someone to cause a scene because my service dog is with me and they don't like them. I calmly replied to the lady that, yes, she is a dog but that she's a trained service dog and would not bother her. The woman continued to try to find a seat -- any seat -- near where her stuff was but not close to us. She nearly sat on two other ladies patiently waiting their turn or for someone who was being seen. She continued to protest loudly that she didn't like dogs and that there was a dog near her and she didn't like it. I had already scanned the room with what vision I had after my eyes were fully dilated and saw no other vacant seats except the one I chose which also gave Celeste a small area to lay down so that should would be out of the main flow of traffic. I sat down and said, in as polite of a voice as I could muster by this time, that Celeste would not come near her and would stay under my seat by my feet. This did nothing to appease the woman who began to tell me that I couldn't sit with the dog and continued to make a scene. Finally, and I know I shouldn't have, I replied, "Look! If you'd sit down and shut up, she wouldn't pay any attention to you because she is trained to keep her focus on me! Your tantrum is actually putting me in danger because she thinks you could be a threat and is now not paying attention to me as she is supposed to. Be quiet and don't look at her!" The other ladies in the seating area giggled under their breath but I know it wasn't the most polite thing to do. The woman sat down and tried to become one with the arm of the chair farthest from us and Celeste quickly crossed her front paws and put her head down to rest.

The doctor soon called me to come back and be seen and Celeste and I left the seating area, still hearing slight giggles from the other ladies and hearing more protests from the woman who believes dogs shouldn't be allowed wherever she is. He was a nice gentleman and asked a lot of questions about my past visual history (which isn't good) and he performed some basic visual field tests. I'm so tired of having to look at someone's nose and tell them when I can see their fingers and how many they're holding up. I could almost give lessons on how to fake it because they all use the same pattern and the same number of fingers on each test. But, I'm desperate for answers and I tried really hard to stare at his nose and not look around for his fingers and made myself wait until I could actually see them before answering. I didn't get some of them right. Sometimes I thought there was only one but he was actually holding two. That was depressing.

He said he wanted to do a specialized visual field test that would better determine my peripheral vision. I asked if it meant sticking my head into the large, white, fish-bowl like structure and clicking when I saw dots of light appear on it and he said it was. I sighed because I knew it was going to be another one of the same tests I'd just done back in January and in February. I told him I'd had those tests before and even referred him to the large stack of papers I was given that had their results. He said he wanted to do this "different" version because it worked more on my peripheral vision instead of my entire field of vision. I walked back to the waiting area and blindly tried to find an empty seat FAR away from the woman who was still upset from our previous encounter.

The doctor's technician came and got me and we went to do the test. The difference between this test and the others I'd taken was that she manually controlled the dot of light and I had a washer in my hand and was supposed to tap it on the table when I could see the light. She kept reminding me to tap the washer and I said that when she turned the light on I would. We both realized that she was using a light too small and faint for me to see. So, she changed the size and intensity of the light often and I clicked the washer on the table whenever I could see the dot. It's very hard to keep yourself from looking around in the dome because you want to see the light or verify that you saw what you thought you saw. When the test is done by the computer, it registers if you look away from the target area. This one didn't and I hope I did it correctly. One bad thing about it was that my eyes were dilated and the bright lights kept creating shadows that made it harder to see each new light. Like when you stare at the sun or have a flashlight shown in your eyes and then you can't get that annoying spot out of your vision? Yup, it's like that but with dozens of those spots and new ones being created every second.

I finished the test and was led back to the seating area. This time I wasn't seated near the lady who hated dogs but ended up next to a family that thought Celeste was for show-and-tell. They wanted to pet her but weren't sure if I would let them (I could overhear this conversation as they thought they were whispering but also believed she was a guide dog which would automatically make me blind and deaf) and were quite shocked when I looked at them and told them they couldn't. Then they wanted to ask me why I had her if I could see and what my medical condition was. No questions about her and what she does -- just very personal questions about me and my history. I was very pleased that the doctor called me back to his exam room so I could get away from them.

I put Celeste back into the corner of the room and sat down to await the result and find out what is causing all of my problems. He said that I did well on the test and actually did better than he thought I would and that it all must be in my head. My jaw dropped when I heard this. I explained calmly (because by this point I was so stunned at what I'd just heard repeated for the umpteenth time that I wanted to scream) that ever since I was 19 and started having to wear bifocals and was first diagnosed with lattice degeneration that I've been hearing that "it's all in my head." I asked him why I can't see at night unless something is brightly illuminated. He said he didn't know but that if I was worried about it and was afraid to drive at night to not do it. I asked him why I'm having problems seeing items in my visual periphery and why my vision can't be corrected to better than 20/50. He said he didn't know but that his specialized test (done by a human, not a computer, remember) said I should be fine. I then asked again why even during the daytime when I'm driving I can't read the road signs and have to guess at what they're saying and that I use my GPS everywhere I go because it sits closer to me and I can read the street names on it because I can't read the road signs. Again, he said he didn't know but that if I was concerned about driving I shouldn't do it. I asked him if there were any answers he could give me and he said that when I went back to my glaucoma specialist that I should tell him all of this.

What??? By now I was between numb and furious and those two feelings kept changing back-and-forth quickly within me. I told him that I wasn't going to be seeing the glaucoma specialist anymore because I don't have glaucoma and that's why I was referred to the retinal specialist who looked at my eyes and said he couldn't do anything for me either. The doctor said that the retinal specialist (who is a part of the same practice, remember) wasn't known for taking very good notes and didn't really send much info to go on regarding what he thought about my eyes.

I thought I was going to scream. Really scream. I could not believe that I was hearing the same old line -- "It's all in your head." I even told him that if it was "in my head" and I was making it up I could most certainly think of a lot of better things to dream-up than this.

He finally decided that I need to have an MRI and an ERG (electroretinogram -- basically a big word for a test to determine which parts of my retina actually work) because I could be one of the few with normal-looking eyes but who actually has a problem. Normal? When I was in my early-twenties I had a doctor looking at retinal photos who thought he'd entered the wrong room because I was sitting there and he said that the photos looked like the retinas of an 80-year-old. But, at least now he'd decided that the big tests (which is the whole reason I was referred there) needed to be done. But he couldn't do them. Not that day, anyway. The person who ran the ERG machine was out and I'd have to come back.

After three hours in the doctor's office, I went home with nothing. I was told that the purpose of that visit was for me to have the MRI and ERG and figure out what was wrong and to expect to be there at a minimum of three hours for all of it. Husband took the whole day off work so that he could drive me there and back and hopefully get some answers. Nope. Nothing. The doctor's office is supposed to call me back today (maybe) to schedule another appointment for the tests I was expecting to have done yesterday.

When we were in the elevator of the parking garage and finally had some privacy I told Husband what the doctor had said, followed by a sharp expletive that I won't reprint here. I'd stamped my foot and said it loud enough without realizing that we were arriving at the level where we'd parked that I startled someone waiting to use the elevator. I apologized and we mad our way to the car. I cried on the way home. Husband is very understanding and has been constantly reminding me that whatever is wrong we'll deal with and that he'll always be there to help take care of me. I thanked him again and again but couldn't stop crying because I was so frustrated. I'd just been told the exact same thing by a doctor -- supposedly one of the best in the field nationwide (and will probably cost me a fortune) -- that I'd been told over and over again.

Today both Celeste and Harley can tell I'm upset. I'm sitting and waiting for a phone call that may or may not come to schedule an appointment for me to go all the way back and maybe, just maybe, finally get some concrete information. Something....anything.....information so I don't have to keep my life on pause while I'm worried just what I'll do as this continues to worsen and worry about what my last vision could be.

So, there you have it. Either I'm going blind from a mysterious cause that no one can diagnose or I'm bat-crap crazy and my brain is telling me I can't see things that I really can, which is an incredibly stupid thing for it to do since I need my vision to continue designing for the theatre (which I enjoy) and, more importantly, so I can work to pay-off all the bills I'm racking-up (which isn't as enjoyable but needs to be done). Oh well....I guess the standard "SSDD" (I'll let you look up what that usually stands for) idiom is certainly alive and well in my world.

Same info, different day

2012-03-07T21:11:00.001-06:00

Hello dear readers! Have been out-of-town all day at a doctor's appointment. Not very happy about it. And can't really see well enough at the moment to type much. So, I'll be ranting about it tomorrow. Sorry for the delay, but it might be best if I don't type what I'm thinking right now 'cause I've always rated this blog at least PG-13.

The mighty fence hath been restored!

2012-03-06T13:02:00.000-06:00

And there was much rejoicing....(Yay!)....

Yes, the contractors arrived bright and early this morning and reassembled the panels that had been dislodged from their posts, using the technique I originally suggested -- big freakin' screws instead of puny nails. The lead contractor told me that they usually nail the panels on so that if someone/something hits a panel at high-speed that only the panel would come down and not the whole fence. I found that quite laughable and even showed him how laughable it was since nothing had hit the fence (except air, or maybe a leaf....perhaps a squirrel) and yet the panels were all falling down.

He admitted he was quite shocked when he arrived and found my custom-made drive-gate was twisted and warped and there was no good explanation for it. So, they poured more concrete into the post holes that had settled and leveled them. They also added more dirt in places that needed it (so glad I saved the huge pile of dirt from the first go-around). And they went to purchase new panels to reconstruct my gate so that it now operates correctly and doesn't look as if it will allow half of the wildlife of our neighborhood a way into the yard.

The part of today's adventure that didn't thrill me was my "alarm" system to let me know when someone unknown has arrived at the house. Since my medication makes me incredibly sleepy each morning, I dozed-off on the couch while waiting for the builders to arrive. Actually, I'd already dozed-off before Youngest Son left for school and he had to wake me to let me know he was leaving so I could watch to make sure he got on the bus. Then I dozed-off again.

Harley, the Schnoodle which is a cross between a poodle and a schnauzer (a terrier), is usually the first part of the "alarm" system. She sits on the couch and watches out the windows or lies beside the door in the dining room so that she can see anyone or anything passing by the house. Her terrier instincts give her the predisposition to growl and grumble at anything walking within her line of sight. It doesn't have to be on our property -- if she can see it and she doesn't know who it is or what it wants, she doesn't want it around. Many leaves and bunnies and people walking in the park across the street have been given fair warning from her growling (even though they can't hear her). It's her growling that usually alerts Celeste, my trained service dog, to see what the fuss is about and make sure there is no real "threat" to the house or those of us in it, especially me.

Celeste being a Beauceron definitely classifies her as a large dog. She's every bit of 85 pounds of muscle and alertness. And she has the traditional markings, cropped ears, and deep stare of a herding dog that usually sends humans walking the other way if she stares them down. But when needed, she can bark and it's a low, powerful bark that can be heard very well. It's the combination of Harley, yapping like an idiot and giving an intruder the thought of a small dog that wouldn't do much harm, and then Celeste's booming bark, which to someone who's not heard it would translate to, "I will eat your face off if necessary, and I believe it is," that makes a wonderful "alarm" system. And it's proven itself effective, too.

But this morning, when I was sound asleep on the couch in the comfort of knowing that these two loony dogs would do their job and let me know when the contractors arrived, nothing happened. They just sat there. Oh, they may have run to the door and saw the men getting out of the truck with tools and starting to fix the fence -- but neither decided to inform me. The incessant yapping and loud barks never came. I was finally awakened by Celeste licking me from chin-to-forehead to wake me up because she wanted to go outside. You can imagine my surprise, as well as the contractors', when I opened the back door and found their truck parked in my driveway and they found two dogs barreling out the door into the yard to go "walkies." The guys had been there long enough to remount all of the panels of the fence and neither dog had bothered to let me know.

Once I was awake, however, they wouldn't leave me alone. You'd think I'd been away on safari and they were just thrilled to see me. When the contractors left to buy more materials, neither dog did anything. But when they returned, both dogs started their yapping and barking as if to say, "See! We are good at this and look at them tremble before us!" There was no trembling -- the guys outside had already known to ignore them and went about their work.

Now they're still sitting and staring at me wondering where their treats are for scaring-away the intruders who simply left on their own after we inspected the fence and made sure the work was done correctly. If it weren't for that dopey look they get in their eyes at times like this, I'd probably have to be upset. And with one dopey-eyed dog on each side of me, that's a hard emotion to bring up at the moment.

My kingdom's fence is falling down, part 2....

2012-03-05T22:23:00.000-06:00

Well, the contractor didn't come today to fix the fence but no other panels fell off today. Fortunately, it also wasn't a very windy day and the sun was nice and shining.

Which just figures because he and his crew are supposed to be here tomorrow to fix it. A day when the weather is supposed to change and the winds will be fierce. The weatherpeople are already saying that there's going to be a Red Flag Warning plus other watches and advisories for the day. If you don't know what a Red Flag Warning is -- that's when burning things is not advised because the wind will be very forceful and can spread embers quickly and over long distances. It's also used in nautical terms to let you know that the water will be too rough because of the waves created by the wind.

In our area, we have a local weatherman who issues a Small Dog Warning on days like that. You can guess what that means. Actually, from what I've been reading on the forecast changes this evening, it might become a Medium Dog Warning. I want to see these guys trying to muscle around large 6-foot-by-8-foot panels of wood in the wind. Had they just done the job correctly the first time they wouldn't have to worry about it.

I'm headed back to the television. Had a long rehearsal tonight for our community theatre production; will have another long rehearsal tomorrow night; and there's an episode of Top Gear (the BBC version, not that crap on History Channel) with Eddie Izzard as the Star in the Reasonably Priced Car. Top Gear and my favorite comedian -- I should sleep well tonight.

My kingdom's fence is falling down....

2012-03-04T19:32:00.000-06:00

Gaah!!! It's been less than a month since I finally got the privacy fence I've been waiting and waiting for and the stupid thing has started falling down.

Yes, I know there's been some bad weather and it's been windy but (1) the tornado didn't touch down here, (2) high winds were reported but they were blowing towards the fence which would push it into the posts and not outward towards our neighbor's yard, and (3) it's only been a freakin' month and the stupid thing has started falling down! I've contacted the contractor and he says it will be fixed immediately but not Monday.

We'll see about that. If the panels keep falling off, someone will be fixing it and it's not going to be me. And, if for some forsaken reason it is me, there will be a lot of money returned since he's already admitted that the panels should have been screwed and not nailed onto the posts.

I'm going to go stomp into the other room and severely watch TV while waiting for tomorrow to come. I'll update as needed.

Happy whatever to me....

2012-03-03T17:41:00.000-06:00

Yes, it's my birthday. No, I'm not going to tell you how old I am. Yes, I went out to lunch for my birthday. No, I didn't do anything else special (at least as of 5:30 p.m.).

Youngest Son had a great time at his friend's party last night. They played Laser Tag and other games before going back home and watching endless episodes of Big Bang Theory before they fell asleep.

Eldest Son called me from college to wish me a happy day. Fortunately he's doing well this semester, doesn't have to have a roommate in his dorm, and weathered the big storms that rolled-in a few days ago and yesterday very well. It's been drilled into him what to do in case of a severe storm/tornado/etc. and his weather radio is on to tell him where to go. I worry, but at least I don't have to worry as much when it comes to things like that.

Anyway, that's all for today.

See....if I'd started this last year like I kept promising myself I was going to I'd be done now.

Parents' night....

2012-03-02T21:11:00.002-06:00

Youngest Son is away at a sleepover. One of his friends is having a birthday party & they've gone to play Laser Tag and eat their weight in pizza. Husband and I spent the evening buying items for props for our theatrical production and will probably be shopping more tomorrow. I just can't stand not having what I want for the show and as I've said before it's going to look right if there's any way I can make it happen. Plus, I can always resell the antique items on eBay or something. So, that's all I'm posting today. Almost said to heck with it but figured I'd stick it out another day at least.

What am I doing....

2012-03-01T10:46:00.000-06:00

This blog thing sounded so simple when it started. "Sure, you've got free-time -- fill it by writing!" the "voices" said.

"You've got such interesting stories, they need to be written down," the therapist said.

"Your stories and the way you tell them are hysterical! You could be famous if you wrote a book!" the family members said.

Today I sat down and looked at the calendar. "If you'd just gotten off your duff and started the blog on your 40th birthday like you wanted, you'd be almost done by now!" my mind said. It's now got the "voices" taunting me over my ability to procrastinate like there's always a tomorrow to do something.

I'm into my third month of this and I don't feel like I've made any really insightful posts. No words of wisdom that others would inspire others. Oh, sure, when I ranted about the crappy military collector's show and the one where they freeze-dried people's pets, those got a lot of responses. And, yes, my political rantings have had higher read-counts -- but those are fads. This political season is going to end in November whether we like the outcome or not. Based on what I'm hearing on the news and in other blogs and from my friends on Facebook, I don't think we're going to like it.

So today I thought about why I started the blog. One of the biggest reasons was so that I could dump all of the crap the "voices" in my head keep badgering me about into a place where I can (1) either deal with it in a fun instead of tragic way, (2) deal with issues that are so old yet still hurtful in order to try to make sense of them so I won't have to deal with them anymore, (3) dump ideas and work with them until I've created something useful or seen that it was a waste of time in the first place, or (4) at least keep my writing skills up-to-snuff and entertain and/or educate others. Husband and my therapist keep saying how stunned they are at the amount of things I know about and can pull obscure facts from thin air in mid-conversation. I thought maybe this would be the place to figure out how and why I know what I know because when they ask me where I learned it, I don't know.

But I look at today and the past few days and wonder if I'm actually accomplishing anything at all. Most of my days since last Friday have been spent either at the gun show (which was fun and we made a decent profit after expenses) or asleep because of the pain medication combined with my daily meds that can knock me on my butt without the extra help. I've been fretting over a community theatre production because if my name is going to be on the programme as a technical director, then dammit it's going to be the best I can produce because I have a basically non-existent professional theatrical reputation to uphold. (Yes, I did get to work with "Miss Saigon" and "Sunset Boulevard" when I went to London on a theatrical tour/internship, but that was in the 1990s and no one remembers it but me.) I'm a perfectionist and I don't like to skimp or slide-over particulars but I'm being forced to with no money, no assistance, and no time to make it better.

I've been trying to hide some medical issues that have come-up from certain extended family members because the last thing I need is a lot of drama over something no one can do anything about at the moment. My Step-Father recently severely broke his right leg and has another minor fracture in his left. He's having to stay at a rehabilitation hospital because he cannot walk at the moment (because of the rods and pins) and also needs his dialysis. This has me feeling bad that he's alone there because it's three hours away from where Biological Mother is at their home preparing it for when he can return home again. I'd go to visit him but my medical issue prevents me from traveling long distances by myself. And when Biological Mother asked me on the phone the other day how a doctor's appointment went, I had to remember that she was thinking of one months ago because I hadn't told her what's been happening. I hadn't told her that I went to that appointment which led me to two others with the same doctor and a referral to another specialist who has now referred me to another specialist I have to see next week and if that person can't figure out what's going on, then there's no real hope of ever fixing the problem.

So, I finally told her when she called the other day. I told her that I'd gone to the optometrist to get new glasses but the new prescription doesn't help me see any better than the old prescription. I tested lenses with the new prescription and couldn't see anything any clearer at any distance. I was referred to a glaucoma specialist because my optic nerve is cupped in a manner that, at first glance, would make any ophthalmologist jump to the conclusion that I have glaucoma. I've been told for over 20 years that I have low-tension glaucoma (the type that damages the eye but can't be detected by just measuring the pressure of the eye alone), so I went to have a special test done. It's called an OCT and I can't remember at the moment what it stands for but they flash lasers at my retinas and measure the depth and thickness of them to determine the amount of damage.

I took the results to the glaucoma specialist who said, in a very assertive tone, that I don't have glaucoma. He had me re-take the OCT exam as well as a visual field test. The visual field test is like sticking your head in a fishbowl where they place a patch over one eye and then flash dots of light at different intensities all around the domed surface and you're supposed to click a button when you see the flashing dot. Oh, and you have to stare at a bigger, red dot while they're doing that so you won't look around the bowl and cheat by looking for the lights. After they do one eye, they do the same thing for the other. I failed it badly. The technician kept trying to remind me to click the button when I saw the lights and I told her if she'd make the lights show up I'd click it. I didn't know that the test had already begun.

The glaucoma specialist then looked at my eyes again, reviewed the tests again, and examined my eyes to see how well I could see with my current glasses or with a new prescription. He came to the same conclusion -- a new prescription wasn't helping me see any clearer. As a matter of fact, my eyes had gotten even worse since the last time I saw him a few weeks before. Now there was a serious problem. In our state, if you can't see better than 20/50 with correction (glasses or contacts), you can't legally drive at night. I've been having a lot of problems with my night vision for a long time and had recently noticed that it was much, much worse. I just didn't know it was that much worse. He immediately referred me to a retinal specialist across the state to see if he could help fix whatever is going on because it's not glaucoma and he's now stumped.

So, I travel across the state to have another appointment. My eyes are dilated and another OCT test is done (I hope the insurance pays for all of these repeat tests). An angiogram of my retinas was done so that detailed photos could be taken to determine where the damages are. I know that I have a type of macular degeneration called Lattice Degeneration, but I couldn't imagine that after all of this time it would just start acting-up. Oh, and if they ever do an angiogram on your eyes, fair warning -- they inject flourescent dye into your veins so they can see the veins in your eyes but forget to tell you that you'll urinate flourescent colors for two days. Just thought you'd like to know.

The retinal specialist comes in, looks in my eye, and says, "You must have glaucoma based on your optic nerve." I tell him that if he'd read the notes and test results, he'd find that I don't have glaucoma. He stood there and read my file, reviewed every test result that was sent to him, looked in my eyes again, and said, "I don't know what you have." They checked my vision again and now I'm up to 20/60 with glasses. One more jump and I'll end up unable to legally drive -- day or night. he continued to check tests and the photos and reports before sitting down in front of me and admitting, "I can't do anything for you. There's nothing wrong with your retinas that should be causing this that I could fix. You need to see someone else."

Now I'm waiting until next week to see a neuro-ophthalmologist at one of the more-prestigious medical colleges in the United States (which happens to be across the state from where I live) so that they can scan my eyes, my optic nerves, my brain, and whatever else they decide to stick into a machine to see if there's a tumor, a damaged area, a disease, an alien, or something else. I'm waiting for the usual answer I get -- "It's all in your head." My eyes are in my head, so of course it's "in my head." I had an ophthalmologist once tell me it was "in my head" as if I was making it all up. He was quite humbled when a partner of his had to do a cryogenic surgery to repair a hole in my retina that the first one had missed by thinking I was pretending (and I didn't have to pay for the surgery). But now I'm facing the prospect of not being able to drive, not knowing what's causing this, and/or finding out that it could be something that can or can't be fixed easily and -- guess what -- Biological Mother is worried now. I didn't want her to be worried now because there's nothing that can be done until I have the tests and someone comes up with an answer. And if this doctor can't come up with an answer, there's no one left to see (no pun intended).

What am I doing? I'm sitting here completing one of the objectives of my blog by getting things out in the open and trying to get my "voices" to shut-up about them. But, at the same time, I'm boring the rest of y'all to death, announcing a problem that other family members still don't know about (but they might as well hear it from me here), and I'm still not feeling any better about it. If this is supposed to be therapeutic, it's not helping. Even Celeste is noticing the tension in the room and trying to get me to quit typing.

Am I doing this right? Is this actually going to work? It is worth the daily "freak-out" when I don't have a topic already in mind? Does it fundamentally matter in the greater scheme of things? And would anyone notice?

And, before anyone says it, the answer is not "42." I've already tried it and it's not worked....yet.

February 29th - Interesting Facts

2012-02-29T22:25:00.000-06:00

Since it's "Leap Day," I'm gonna leap out of my chair and not post anything tonight. I'm tired and I'm going to bed early. But, just so those of you who read my blog on a regular basis won't have to go without, I'm reposting this informational article published by BBC News. I think you'll like it.

Here are 10 things to consider - for one day only. Until 2016, that is.

1. The leap year's extra day is necessary because of the "messiness" of our Solar System. One Earth year (a complete orbit around the Sun) does not take an exact number of whole days (one complete spin of the Earth on its axis). In fact, it takes 365.2422 days, give or take.

2. Until Julius Caesar came to power, people observed a 355-day calendar - with an extra 22-day month every two years. But it was a convoluted solution to the problem and feast days began sliding into different seasons. So Caesar ordered his astronomer, Sosigenes, to simplify things. Sosigenes opted for the 365-day year with an extra day every four years to scoop up the extra hours. This is how the 29 February was born. It was then fine-tuned by Pope Gregory XIII (see below).

3. Every fourth year is a leap year, as a rule of thumb. But that's not the end of the story. A year that is divisible by 100, but not by 400, is not. So 2000 was a leap year, as was 1600. But 1700, 1800 and 1900 are not leap years. "It seems a bit arbitrary," says Ian Stewart, emeritus professor of mathematics at Warwick University. But there's a good reason behind it.

"The year is 365 days and a quarter long - but not exactly. If it was exactly, then you could say it was every four years. But it is very slightly less." The answer arrived at by Pope Gregory XIII and his astronomers when they introduced the Gregorian calendar in 1582, was to lose three leap days every 400 years. The math has hung together ever since. It will need to be rethought in about 10,000 years' time, Stewart warns. But by then mankind might have come up with a new system.

4. Why is February 29, not February 31, a leap year day? All the other months have 30 or 31 days, but February suffered from the ego of Roman Emperor Caesar Augustus, says Stewart. Under Julius Caesar, February had 30 days, but when Caesar Augustus was emperor he was peeved that his month - August - had only 29 days, whereas the month named after his predecessor Julius - July - had 31. "He pinched a couple of days for August to make it the same as July. And it was poor old February that lost out," says Prof Stewart.

5. The tradition of a woman proposing on a leap year has been attributed to various historical figures. One, although much disputed, was St Bridget in the 5th Century. She is said to have complained to St Patrick that women had to wait too long for their suitors to propose. St Patrick then supposedly gave women a single day in a leap year to pop the question - the last day of the shortest month. Another popular story is that Queen Margaret of Scotland brought in a law setting fines for men who turned down marriage proposals put by women on a leap year. Sceptics have pointed out that Margaret was five years old at the time and living far away in Norway. The tradition is not thought to have become commonplace until the 19th Century.

It is believed that the right of every woman to propose on this day goes back to the times when the leap year day was not recognised by English law. It was believed that if the day had no legal status, it was acceptable to break with tradition.

6. A prayer has been written by a female cleric for people planning a leap year day marriage proposal. The prayer, for 29 February, asks for blessings on the engaged couple. It reminds them that wedding plans should not overtake preparations for a lifetime together. The prayer has been taken from Pocket Prayers of Blessing by the Venerable Jan McFarlane, Archdeacon of Norwich:

"God of love, please bless N and N as they prepare for the commitment of marriage. May the plans for the wedding not overtake the more important preparation for their lifetime together. Please bless their family and friends as they prepare for this special day and may your blessing be upon them now and always. Amen."

7. The practice of women proposing in a leap year is different around the world. In Denmark, it is not supposed to be 29 but 24 February, which hails back to the time of Julius Caesar. A refusal to marry by Danish men means they must give the woman 12 pairs of gloves. In Finland, it is not gloves but fabric for a skirt and in Greece, marriage in a leap year is considered unlucky, leading many couples to avoid it.

8. The chance of being born on a leap day is often said to be one in 1,461. Four years is 1,460 days and adding one for the leap year you have 1,461. So, odds of 1/1,461.

But Stewart points out that is very slightly out, owing to the loss of the three leap years every 400 years. In any case, babies are more likely to be born at certain times of the year rather than others, due to a range of other factors, he says. Babies born on 29 February are known as "leapers" or "leaplings".

9. Other calendars apart from the Gregorian require leap years. The modern Iranian calendar is a solar calendar with eight leap days inserted into a 33-year cycle. The Indian National Calendar and the Revised Bangla Calendar of Bangladesh arrange their leap years so that the leap day is always close to 29 February in the Gregorian calendar.

10. Explorer Christopher Columbus used the lunar eclipse of 29 February 1504 to his advantage during his final trip to the West Indies. After several months of being stranded with his crew on the island of Jamaica, relations with the indigenous population broke down and they refused to continue helping with food and provisions. Columbus, knowing a lunar eclipse was due, consulted his almanac and then gathered the native chiefs on 29 February. He told that God was to punish them by painting the Moon red. During the eclipse, he said that God would withdraw the punishment if they starting co-operating again. The panicked chiefs agreed and the Moon began emerging from its shadow.

Also of a supernatural nature, on 29 February 1692 the first warrants were issued in the Salem witchcraft trials in Massachusetts.

Youngest Son having a busy day?

2012-02-28T23:07:00.000-06:00

I don't remember having to be so busy when I was 13 years old! Oh, I'm sure back then I thought I was the busiest and most important person on earth, but looking back I certainly don't remember it that way. Many people will say that our kids today are busier because there's so much more technology and that they're having more and more to do because of school, sports, and civic groups.

If technology was really the reason our kids are busier, then we should have been completely overwhelmed way-back-when! We had to actually write our term papers out by longhand. There were no computer programs to put together nice slide shows or do the graphics for us. If you were artistically challenged, you dreaded any project that required poster board and magic markers.

Most days when Youngest Son comes home from school he doesn't have any homework. I remember walking home from school with a full backpack and my arms full of books so I could complete an evening's assignments. He brings home his trumpet and maybe a worksheet that he's completed that day in class. I'd be really concerned but his grades are high and he's on the "A" Honor Roll each quarter.

Today, however, he was busy after school because it's time for the Spring Theatre Auditions at school. They did the musical "Aladdin Jr." back in November and Youngest Son portrayed The Sultan. He did a really good job. Today he auditioned for a part in "The Borrowers." The director is not pleased that the latest Disney film happens to be based on "The Borrowers" and that the kids will try to imitate it instead of actually working on their roles. Youngest Son paired-up with one of the girls that he's friends with for their read-throughs. Both of them auditioned for lead roles and I wish them the best of luck. I think he only got the nerve to ask her to audition with him because her ex-boyfriend (who's a good friend of his, too) is out-of-town and had already auditioned.

Tomorrow he's got band rehearsals after school. He's been selected to go to the State Band Conference as a soloist and as part of a sextet. He practices at home for an hour each day and is really nervous that the rest of his sextet hasn't been practicing. I told him that when he's there tomorrow to play his best and if the other five aren't as ready as he is, then to keep playing the best he can and show them that they need to step-up and get ready 'cause the contest is in April.

But even with these events and others upcoming in the month (as well as working on the Community Theatre production so that he has some backstage experience), he still has plenty of time to play video games, read lots of books, and surf the Internet (with parental supervision, of course). People say kids today are too busy. I just don't see it. Then again, I'm glad that he's got time to do things he likes as well as having time to rest properly. The typical zombie teenager is not a pleasant sight in the morning -- Eldest Son was a prime example of that and I'd like to not have to deal with it again.

It's worse on the third day....

2012-02-27T21:26:00.000-06:00

My oral surgeon left me a note that I should not be surprised if my jaw/cheek/everything else hurts worse on the third day after the surgery than it did on the day of it. Actually, I wasn't in any pain the day of the surgery -- I just had it done 'cause I knew if I didn't I would have to sooner-or-later when the pain would be too bad to suffer. Well, he was right! It's the third day and my jaw is screaming at me. It might not have helped that I had a lot of talking to do during rehearsal tonight.

One of the up sides to community theatre is that you get people who are really interested in making your production work. People want to be seen doing well onstage and they're very willing to do what they need to in order for the production to be a success. Sadly, one of the down sides to community theatre is that there's basically no budget. That means that either the technical director (that would be me) has to find/buy/make all of the costumes and props or he/she has to delegate that job to the actors. I'm a great delegator. I love delegating things to other people, especially if it's something I don't want to do in the first place. If it's very important and is critical to making the production work, I have a harder time letting-go of something. But otherwise, if there's a prop or costume piece that an actor needs, I find it best for them to go out and find it so that they're comfortable with it (not too big/heavy/etc.) and because they'll be using it and I cannot afford to purchase everything. True, there are theatrical rental houses, but I can't afford that, either.

Tonight I started our rehearsals by giving everyone a list of the props they'll need and other set decoration pieces we'd like to have. Many looked at me as if I were insane, asking me to find something for themselves. I'd already told them they needed to bring their costume pieces and that they'd be responsible for their own costumes, so I guess asking for props was a little "over-the-top" for some of them. Then I found out that one of our actors quit, leaving us with a role to fill with just three weeks before the production. That's another down side to community theatre -- they're volunteers so they can come-and-go as they please and there's not much you can do about it.

Fortunately, tonight our director decided to try a few new things with the play and different people took on the parts where the actor that was cast didn't show up tonight (we were missing quite a few). We had a great time as everyone started laughing and having fun and it helped those of us there to continue the "theater bonding" we need to make the show look like an enjoyable performance and not a bunch of strangers reciting lines. Hopefully we'll have as much fun tomorrow night!

Spring Gun Show: Day Two

2012-02-26T23:19:00.000-06:00

Today was also a nice day at the annual Spring Gun Show. Not too many people asking stupid questions, like "Is that for sale?" when the item is clearly marked with what it is and how much we're asking for it. Not too many people wanting to stand around and touch everything we have on the table but not actually interested in buying anything. We did have a few people try to haggle on prices with us, and we actually encourage that (unless the price tag says "FIRM" which means we're probably selling it for someone else). But trying to haggle with us for a lower price, us coming to an agreement on a lower price for the item, and then the customer walking away because they don't have the money to buy it is just silly. I lost count how many times that happened today.
But, we returned home with fewer items than we took which is always a success. We did purchase some .45 ACP pistol parts and a reproduction MP-40 "non-gun" (doesn't work, never did, never will) that we'd planned to add to our collections and/or resell and ALL of them sold within a half an hour of our purchases. We were lucky to get an M1 Garand bayonet in excellent condition at a very reasonable price. We plan to resell it but we bought it so close to the end of the day today that there wasn't time to resell it there. That's okay; that's why we have the website.

My oral surgeon advised me the other day to be careful with what I ate and drank and to not be surprised if by the end of the second or third day my face began to swell and ache worse than it did when I went to his office. That would have been any amount because nothing hurt when I went to see him and now I'm in excruciating pain! I almost wanted to skip posting tonight because earlier I could barely lift my arms or my head long enough to type anything. But, I sat and watched the Oscars and figured if I'm still up this late I can at least post something. So, here it is.

I'm looking forward to the next gun show we'll be able to attend. Not sure when that will be at the moment but it will be fun as will the search for new items to offer at the next show!

Spring Gun Show: Day One

2012-02-25T19:31:00.000-06:00

I'm surprised. I'm very surprised. I'm actually on the verge of being stunned. Today, I didn't have to yell at anyone in disgust during the gun show. And that's a first for me in a long time!

I don't consider myself a rude person. I try to be friendly and cordial with everyone I meet, especially if they're a customer, until they give me a reason not to be. Then, depending on the amount of stupidity or rudeness received, all bets are off. My business is there to make money, not to please the entire world. I've spent years of my life studying and researching information so that I am as close to being an expert as I can be with regards to the items I sell. And since 99% of all of the items are either from the Vietnam War era or earlier (I deal in military surplus, in case you forgot or are new to my writings), a lot of my information has to come from hands-on experience with the items, talking to veterans who owned or were issued the items, and doing a LOT of reading so that I'll know the little details. Not every helmet is the same. Not every weapon is the same. And just because you watched Band of Brothersor Saving Private Ryan doesn't make you an expert on WWII militaria! You might own the entire DVD set of every Tour of Duty season or you have every M*A*S*H and After M*A*S*H episode memorized, but that doesn't make you an expert on the Vietnam or Korean Wars!

The worst thing to do is to come up to my table (which I have spent a fair amount of money to rent so that I can sell my items) after I've traveled a long distance to be at the show (sometimes I'm lucky and the shows are actually at a center across the street from my house!) and made sure that I've brought a wide variety of items (because one of the biggest complaints at shows is that "there's nothing worth buying") and trying to inform me that the polyester-blend jacket you're holding was passed-down three generations from your relative that served in the American Revolution and because you've seen the latest documentary on History Channel that has one "just like it" that I must purchase it from you for an ungodly amount of money. Or, you bring an item to me and tell me how you watched a television show where someone had one exactly like it except for the color, size, and rust on it and that you demand that I pay the appraised amount from the show. I'll make this simple -- do either of those things, and the answer is going to be, "Not gonna happen in this lifetime, buddy!"

Another one of the top items to not do is to bring your item to my table, stand in front of me and give me a very, very long, very, very detailed "history" of the item and how you came to own it and then ask me what it's worth. It's even worse when you start your diatribe with, "Do you know what this is?" not in a manner of "Can you help me?" but with the attitude of "I'm going to teach you something." What's most irritating is when I've answered your question that I do or don't know what the item is and ask if you want to sell the item to me and you respond with a resounding "Of course not!" or "Depends on what you tell me it's worth! Why should I give you an appraisal for free? You don't get other items appraised for free. Why should I utilize the many years research and knowledge that I have to tell you something that (1) you think you already knew or (2) had no clue about and not get anything out of it? I don't work for Antiques Roadshow so my appraisals aren't free!

Also, when I give a "value" on an item, it's going to be one of three things -- (1) the current market value of the item based on others I've seen sell at retail or auction, (2) an estimated insurance value if it's something that I've already been informed is going to stay within the family (and my appraisal fee is paid), or (3) what I think it's worth to me or what I'm willing to pay because I am going to resell it and need to be able to make a profit. I'm not buying your memories or appraising your family's history -- I'm in this game to make money and just because you saw someone else told that their item is worth $30,000 doesn't mean that your's is as well! Not every World War II uniform was worn by Eisenhower or Patton and not every German pistol was carried by Goering or Hitler. And trust me on this, there are a LOT of faked items out there! Collectors and reenactors have demanded reproduction items and manufacturers have been more than happy to provide them, especially if they're Nazi items! They first started reproducing the uniforms but used actual WWII-era materials and thread which made detecting a fake almost impossible. Then they reproduced weapons with old parts found in defunct factories. The parts are "original" but the build of the weapon didn't happen until the 1980s -- so saying it's "real" is kind of hard to do. Now, there are companies that not only fake the medals (and not just the high honor ones but even the ones that EVERYONE got) but they even fake the presentation boxes the things came in from the 1940s!! It's getting so you can't trust anything as "authentic" anymore!

Oh, and when I said "real" above, that word drives me insane. People come up to me when I'm wearing my WWII-era authentic uniform and ask, "Is that real?" I tell them, "Why, yes, it is -- in the sense that it takes up time and space." That usually baffles them for a few moments until they decide to ask, "Is it really your uniform?" I reply, "Yes, it is mine because I bought and paid for it myself and am the only person who wears it." Again, I'll get some blank stares because they're not sure of what to say. What they should have asked is, "Is that an authentic WWII uniform?" or "Is that uniform original to the WWII-era?" or "Was that uniform made during WWII and possibly used by a soldier then?" Then I could answer them whether or not my uniform is "authentic," "genuine" or "vintage." "Real" is a word that has way too many meanings. And asking if it is "mine" implies that I am the person who wore the uniform during World War II and earned the medals pinned to the dress jacket and actually obtained the rank worn from the United States Government. I may be starting to look older, but I'm not THAT old yet!!

So today wasn't filled with as many questions or issues like those. It was nice to have intelligent and humorous conversations with prospective customers. And when some would ask me for my "expert" opinion or for clarification with regards to an item or type of items I've spent a lot of time researching, I was happy to oblige. True, there were a number of people who tapped on the helmets to make sure they were really made out of metal and others who tried to "inform" us that we couldn't own or sell our wares because "it's illegal to own government property" even though the items are edging 70 years old and no one in the government has been searching for them (especially since they discontinued them and threw away what was left-over ages ago).

Hopefully tomorrow will go well. And if not, at least I'm still on my painkillers from yesterday and they help mellow me out for short periods of time.

Whee!! Over 1000 views on my WordPress version of this blog!!!

2012-02-24T19:02:00.000-06:00

Yippee! My blog has over 1000 views on it as of late last night!! Of course, it's really easy to get me happy and giggly about something right now. Had to have some minor oral surgery and the anesthesia has still not totally worn-off. They asked if I wanted a "local" or "general" and I said "general" would be fine and probably safer for them because if I was awake during it I'd probably have been trying to talk and ask too many questions. An unconscious patient is an easy patient at times.

Plus, I got my own bottle of prescription pain-killers, too! Those will be fun once I start needing to take them. All weekend Husband, Youngest Son, and I are supposed to be working for my online company at the local gun show. No, not a "gun show" where steroid-riddled guys show off their muscles; a "real" gun show. I enjoy looking at firearms, using them, and having my Second Amendment rights protected. We'll have a few for sale and a bunch of military surplus items as well. We don't get rich off of it but it gives me something to do to help make money when my primary employment doesn't have a huge disaster to which they want me to respond.

But for now, the "voices" and I are going to go curl-up on the couch and let the remote become one with my arm. It's going to be a long day tomorrow and I'm pretty sure those pain-killers will be needed soon. Time to rest, relax, and....um....something witty that fits there. Yup, the brain is already decided it's down for the count today!

A brief review/rant of last night's debate

2012-02-23T16:58:00.000-06:00

I have lots and lots to do today, so this one is going to be quick. I watched the Republican Debate last night and found myself again frustrated by what I heard and saw. So, since I'm busy, this is going to be a quick synopsis of what I saw and remember from the show.

The four candidates were introduced by CNN in an almost WWE "wrasslin'" style as each was given a nickname and funky background music. They all came out onstage and stood for the National Anthem. Politicians need to learn where their heart is -- most of them were covering their spleen with their right hand.

Questions were posed and Frothy Mix (Santorum) and Mittens (Romney) sat and argued like small children trying to one-up each other. Newt (Gingrich) looks as if he's put on a few pounds and the way he sat in his chair holding his right hand made me wonder if he was constantly checking his pulse or if he was just trying to control himself from smacking Mittens for all of his inane comments. DocRon (Paul) sat at the other end of the stage and was often ignored but did make sure that when he was asked to give a "quick response" by the moderator that he said, "No, not a quick response. I get one minute like they do!"

Frothy Mix kept falling into the "John Kerry Trap" of saying that he "voted for something before he opposed it" which the other candidates, with the exception of DocRon, seemed to not notice. DocRon, however, did jump on it. He also made a comment about not believing something that Frothy Mix said was "real." Frothy Mix tried to interrupt by showing his hand and arm to DocRon and saying, "Sorry! I'm definitely real!" to which DocRon simply replied, "Congratulations."

Mittens kept trying to remind everyone about how he was affiliated with the Olympics but never could get the right words out. He said he was "in the Olympics," not that he served on the Olympic Committee. If he was "in" the Olympics, then in what sport did he compete? And, in my own opinion, who gives a crap that he worked on the Olympic Committee. True, he uses it as a way to prove that he's the most qualified to run the country economically, but that's with a budget of billions which only people like he and his friends have, not the type of budgets with which we "regular people" are familiar.

Newt made a great statement that everyone is comparing what they're going to do with what the current government is doing and pointed out that the current government is the problem. Like, duh!! If the others didn't already know that, then they don't need to be up there.

DocRon was patient as he was mostly ignored throughout the night and did defend himself and his ideas when he could. However, I do believe that he often got some of the biggest applause and was the only person who, as everyone tried to make sure to mention as many of the Bill of Rights amendments as they could, mentioned the Second Amendment. And I agree with him that if someone has entered the country illegally and is trespassing on your property, you should be able to call the police and have them arrested (and they can be referred to the proper immigration authorities). Why not? If I can report citizens for trespassing, why do illegal immigrants get a free pass?

At the end of the debate, I really got upset when they were asked their final question and only two of them answered it. Newt and DocRon actually answered the question. They passed my first rule of having a debate. When it was Mitten's turn and he started his campaign speech, the moderator stopped him and asked him to answer the question. Mittens countered with, "You get to ask the questions you want; I get to give the answers I want." Frothy Mix took the same approach and both stayed "on-message" and wouldn't answer the question directly.

So, if I had to choose someone at this moment, it would be either DocRon or Newt. Newt actually isn't "presidential" in my eyes, but he at least can answer a direct question! Same for DocRon. You might be stunned at what you hear but he's not going to mince words or go off on his "message" instead of addressing the issue.

They said last night this could be the last Republican Debate -- I seriously doubt it. Everyone's in-it-to-win-it and no one is going home until they mathematically can't win. And some are trying to get enough delegates so they get a prime-time slot during the Republican National Convention, which worries many in the RNC.

I just hope that the next debate is better than this one was and that questions can actually be answered directly. And if they don't, I still think dropping them through the floor or squirting them with water like you do your dog or cat that won't behave would be fine.

My brain hurts....the continuing story

2012-02-22T14:19:00.000-06:00

At least today I'm not staring as much at the computer. Today I'm looking at books, sending text messages, and making phone calls in order to help get our production underway. So, since I'm going to be really busy with the show now, I might as well give my faithful readers some information about it.

Our local community theatre group is doing two performances of "Arsenic and Old Lace." If you've never seen the play or the movie starring Cary Grant, then you need to as soon as you can! It's a great story about the Brewster Sisters who perform their "charity" on lonely elderly gentlemen and are assisted by their nephew Teddy (who believes he's Teddy Roosevelt) in "disposing" of the evidence. Another nephew, Mortimer, lives with them and is a drama critic for the newspaper and plans to marry Elaine who lives with her father, Reverend Harper, just across the cemetery from the Brewsters. Mortimer finds out what his aunts have been doing and tries to protect them, but is soon confronted with his long-lost cousin Jonathan (and his associate Dr. Einstein) who has plans on making the old Brewster home his new headquarters of crime. It's a hysterical production and all of the actors have been having a blast working on the scenes and getting their lines memorized. Husband is even in this production. He's not as big on the theatre as I am, but I convinced him to audition since he's seen the movie thousands of times and he will be portraying Dr. Einstein.

I'm the technical director for the production which means I have to help design the set, design the costumes, find the props, manage the technical crews, and act as stage manager during the productions. Finding a place has been difficult since the only "theatre" (actually built for theatrical productions) in town is (1) incredibly expensive to use and (2) doesn't want people to build sets on their parquet flooring they've installed for the annual Gospel Sing that comes through every August. They also only allow the person who sold them their lighting and sound system to operate them during any productions and he's WAY too expensive for us (even though the director and I are perfectly capable of running the equipment). When they built the theatre they even decided to cut-out the fly loft and counterweight system because they figured an additional 20 feet less to build would help the budget but didn't realize that theatrical productions need a way to bring scenery in and out and that often the easiest way is to go up. Plus, our production requires a "practical" (means that they have to be used and built to code) set of stairs for Teddy to imagine as San Juan Hill every time he goes up them and screams "Charge!" Since they'd have to be fastened to the floor, the theatre is a no-go for this production.

We would use the Junior High's theatre/auditorium where Youngest Son's recent production of "Aladdin, Jr." was held, but (1) they want too much to rent the space, (2) the area is occasionally used by classes and our stuff wouldn't be as secure as we need it, and (3) we'd still have to build the set with the staircase and that's going to cost more. Even though the assistant principal of the Junior High is in the play as the evil Jonathan, we still couldn't afford to have it there.

We're currently rehearsing at the church where our director works. There's a nice area that was part of the original church that's been converted into a theatre. We asked if we could use the space but they turned us down because it's not a "Christian production." I'm still trying to figure out if they're objecting to the fact that it's not about a story in the Bible or if they're objecting to the language, violence, and murder that takes place. Last time I read the Christian Bible I saw a lot of violence and murder in there, so perhaps that's not what they're talking about.

Finally, we've found that the local Civic Center will allow us to use their main lobby as a theatrical space. And, to make things even more fortunate for us, they already have a large staircase right in the middle of it! We'll have a thrust stage configuration -- that means the audience will be seated on three sides of the stage and it makes them feel as if they're inside the Brewsters' living room as well. Add a couple of doors, a window seat and window, furniture, and use large curtains to stand-in as the walls (cheaper than having to build them) and we'll have a minimalistic version of the set most people see but it will still work and give focus to the actors and not the background. Plus, it's a LOT cheaper!! That's a big bonus in community theatre!

So now that we've found a place, we've had to work on the dates. On the weekend we wanted there's a soccer tournament scheduled in the exposition hall -- right next to the main lobby area. That's not going to work. There are other events at the schools and in town on other weekends with which many cast members would have conflicts. We wanted to do three performances but have had to scale it back to just two for the dates that are available for the actors, crew members, and the building. But at least we now have dates so we can start selling tickets.

Yesterday I spent the day working on costume designs. I started trying to sketch the costumes for the Brewster Sisters and for Jonathan and Mortimer. Then, I finally gave-in and started looking on the Internet for photos of the types of clothing that I want them to wear. Since it's a community theatre production, each actor will have to create his/her own costume. This is when we love the local thrift shops, resale stores, and free-stores -- especially since this is a period piece (supposed to take place in the 1940s) and a lot of old clothing can be found at those places. A little accessorizing, a little altering, and a little imagination will make them work and on a reasonable budget. I made costume plots for each of the characters and handed them out at last night's rehearsal. They have until next Monday to start finding parts of their costume and have to bring in what they have that night so we can make sure they're on the right track.

Next is the prop list. This one is going to be easy and hard at the same time. There's a prop list in the back of our script books -- but it's as if you were staging a Broadway production (actually, it is the list from the Broadway production) and we don't have that kind of space or money. Our director is loaning us all of the set pieces since he has a Victorian-style house and a lot of extra furniture that will work perfectly in our "make-do" space. I've been calling people who say they have items we can borrow and trying to come up with ideas on how to "fake" the things we need but can't get. Youngest Son wants to major in theatre now and has volunteered to work on the prop crew so he can get some backstage experience. Little does he know that his experience is going to be cleaning a lot of dirty things I find at junk stores, things that people donate (which usually have been sitting in a basement for years), and building/creating items that we can't find but are important to the play. Technical theatre is often a "trial-by-fire" and he's going to get one.

Our lighting is going to be different since we have to use the lights in the lobby and a few additional "practical" lights and up-lights so that we can have brightness and darkness in the "house" as scripted. No theatrical lighting here. I've been working with theatrical lighting and lightboards since I was a teenager, so for me it's going to be different trying to get the mood-lighting I want with very little with which to work. Somehow, though, we'll make it happen.

Fortunately I've gotten new materials for my professional makeup kit because I have to make the actor playing Jonathan look somewhat like Boris Karloff (that's one of the running gags in the show). He's a great guy and really open to letting me experiment on his head. You don't usually get an actor/actress who's willing to let you paint and glue stuff all over them. And the other makeup and hair designs for the rest of the actors will have to wait for now. They'll be doing their own anyway since no one else has special-effect makeup. Well, there are ladies playing male roles, but it's not that hard to get them to look male-ish enough for the theatre. I'm just going to have to be sure the Brewster Sisters have gray/white hair, that Elaine hides her purple highlights, and that the rest of the cast (well, those who have hair, that is) gets theirs styled correctly for their part.

I know in the end I'll look back at all of this and think about what a great job everyone has done and how hard we've all worked and smile. Right now, though, my brain won't shut-up because the "voices" have each taken sections of the play (lights, sound effects, costumes, makeup, etc.) and are arguing about how to get it all done on a budget of about zero dollars. So, you'll probably be able to tell when I'm really busy 'cause my posts might not be as eloquent, insightful, or as long as previous posts. But, the little "voices" nag me every day to make sure my daily post is here -- so I don't think remembering to do this will be a problem.

My brain hurts....

2012-02-21T21:24:00.002-06:00

I've spent all day in front of the computer working on costume designs, prop lists, poster designs, and script reference "cheat sheets" for our local community theatre's upcoming production.

Anyone who thinks being onstage is the hardest part doesn't understand what we technical theatre people have to do to make them look good. And right now, my pillow is looking better so I'll write more tomorrow. It's going to be a fun production!

Presidents' Day Sale: Isn't that every day?

2012-02-20T16:27:00.000-06:00

Once again we have another Federal holiday and the newspapers, radio, and television are filled to the brim with advertisements for Presidents' Day Sales. Will we ever have a holiday that doesn't involve unbridled avarice? Sure, we're a capitalist society, but we do we have to change our holidays from times of remembrance and honor to just simply buying the crap out of everything?

Of course, I'm also one of the "old fogeys" who remembers back-in-the-day when we used to celebrate George Washington's birthday on one date (February 22nd) and Abraham Lincoln's birthday on another (February 12th). And if you're reading this and have no idea who either of those people are, then please, in all seriousness, stop reading my blog because you're just going to embarrass yourself. Our school classrooms were always decorated with silhouettes of Washington and Lincoln and the red-white-and-blue bulletin board borders were strung around the room and decorated each desk. Sometimes there would be contests to see who could dress-up most like either of them and some teachers who only wanted to have to decorate once in the month of February would put the silhouettes of our first and sixteenth presidents (facing each other, usually) inside a large pink heart. That one always confused me.

After the recognition of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Birthday as a Federal holiday, a lot of states stopped celebrating Lincoln's birthday because they didn't want to have to give their employees another paid day-off. Some states still celebrate it, however, as a state holiday (Illinois being one of the biggest). But if we had a holiday for every president and event in our country's history, the government would never be open and all Federal employees would spend most of their time off with pay. Actually, there are some days it seems like they do that anyway. Technically, there is no "Presidents' Day" or "President's Day" or "Presidents Day" (depending on your interpretation of punctuation rules). The official designation is Washington's Birthday and no formal bill has ever changed that. Some have tried -- Nixon issued an executive order to celebrate all presidents (including himself, of course) but that didn't change the holiday. A bill was even introduced in 2001 but it never made it out of the subcommittee trying to present it.

So, the sales we're having are actually to celebrate Washington's birthday. But let's look at the phrasing of what's printed on most of our calendars because the greeting card industry and all the politically-correct rulesmongers won't have us ignoring the other 43 presidents we've had. Presidents' Day. A day for all of the presidents.

Now let's add the commercialization part. Presidents' Day Sale. A day to sell presidents? We have that every day, don't we? Look at the current campaigns -- it's a battle for who's got the most money; who can spend the most in a certain area; and who is going to promise the most going back to the citizens just so long as they donate enough to help them get elected. No one without a huge "war chest" could even dream of becoming president. If you don't already have your own large amount of money that's doing nothing but waiting to be spent, a PAC, a Super-PAC, or a Super-Sized-PAC-with-fries-and-a-drink, you don't stand a chance.

Technically, we buy-and-sell our presidents every day. After one election ends and the inauguration occurs, hopefuls for the next one four years down the road start jockeying for position. And anyone in politics who says they're not interested in running is probably lying through their teeth. But behind the scenes, where the lobbyists and special-interest groups lurk while pretending they're not involved, the money gathering begins. If you've got the money, we've got the candidate for you!

It's been jokingly suggested that we should make all of our politicians wear uniforms with their "sponsors" logos on them, like the NASCAR drivers do. There'd be some who'd have to change outfits four-or-more times a day just so every donor would get equal "screen time." Watching them trying to give a speech or meet-and-greet with the public would be hysterical as they try to ensure shaking enough hands while holding a sponsoring beverage in the other. Shoot, the State of the Union address would have everyone sitting and listening to the president while an aide did the old "hat dance" (where the winning driver had to briefly wear a hat from each of the race's sponsors during the post-race interview) as they sat in the gallery. I'd almost pay to see that!

The current political climate is already bragging and complaining about money raised and spent and who has how much. Sure, they say we have "free" elections -- but don't take that too literally. We'll pay for it, for good or for bad, one way or another.

Sleepover Survivor's Summary

2012-02-19T19:58:00.000-06:00

Last night was hysterical! Youngest Son had two friends over for his first "group" sleepover. One of his friends wasn't able to attend but the other two were more than happy to make up for the missing energy in the room.

Oddly, they wanted to start the evening by watching the DVD we have of this year's school musical. Youngest Son and his friend Leonard were both in the show. Leonard was the lead actor and had not seen the DVD yet (the show was produced in November 2011). Youngest Son, Leonard, and Sheldon were having a blast watching the show, telling backstage stories, and re-winding the action to see the goof-ups and other silly things going on during the performance. Sadly, the student they "hired" to make the DVD only filmed one night out of the three productions and had a field day with the zoom button. Let's just say that if you get motion-sick easily, you do not want to watch the DVD.

After that we ordered pizza. I made sure each of the guys brought their own bottle of soda or other suitable beverage because I didn't want to go out and buy a lot and have a bunch of caffeine-laden sodas (which I don't drink at all) lying around the house. Three large deep-dish pizzas lasted a lot longer than I thought they would. Teenage boys are notorious for scarfing-down anything that's covered in pepperoni and cheese but there was still some left this morning. After the pizza-snarf began, they decided that they wanted to watch a real movie. Leonard had never seen Star Wars: Episode IV, A New Hope which just completely baffled me since all of the guys are pretty well-versed in nerdy/geeky genre information.

Quick note here -- you may recognize the names of Youngest Son's friends from a television show. They call themselves "The Big Bang Club" at school and each kid has a character and they even call themselves by those names. They even added a female friend of theirs (as Penny) so they'd have the whole core cast.

Back to the story. Since I'm also a huge Star Wars geek (seen the original trilogy movies over 1000+ times each), I asked if they wanted to see the awful 1990's "remakes" with "added special effects," the original theatrical version (my favorite), or the latest Blu-Ray release for the 30th Anniversary. I was impressed that they picked the theatrical release. So, I popped-in the DVD for them and waited for them to be amazed with the movie.

That didn't take long. Not the being amazed part. The being interested part. I forgot that teenage boys also have a short attention span and when it came to watching the entire movie, that wasn't going to happen. Youngest Son and Sheldon wanted to prank-call Penny because Leonard is upset he broke-up with her and they wanted to leave a message on her voicemail about it. (No, I'm not kidding. "Leonard" and "Penny" really were "dating" and have broken-up now.) Then they each wanted to play with their Nintendo DS units. Then they saw Youngest Son's Chess 4 set and wanted to play that. All of this while the movie is still playing in the background. Husband agreed to be the fourth so they could play Chess 4 -- a game designed, you guessed it, so four people could play chess against each other at the same time. Sheldon said he knew he was going to be slaughtered because he and Youngest Son play chess at school all the time and Youngest Son beats him easily. And he did again on this version -- he wiped-out the other three players in almost no time.

After that they talked and laughed and watched the last minutes of the movie before the credits started to roll. Once the movie was officially over, they decided to play games on our PlayStation 3. We have some that are for up-to four players, so they each grabbed a controller and started playing. After they tired of one they'd put in another. Soon they wanted to play Lego Star Wars and took turns trying to play in co-op mode when only Youngest Son knew how the game worked.

Finally, around 11:30 p.m., I told them they needed to get off the PS3 and get their sleeping bags out. They didn't necessarily have to go to sleep, but I was going to bed and wanted to be sure that they got some rest since Leonard's parents would be by early to pick him up for church. Husband had already fallen asleep, so I went to bed to read while listening to make sure the guys were okay. A pillow fight broke out between them. Actually, to hear them tell it, it was a "pillows versus 'bag of wet cement' fight" since Leonard's pillow was a lot firmer than the other two's. Soon they teamed-up and it became a pillow ambush. They finally decided to watch Star Wars: Episode VI, Return of the Jedi because Leonard had never seen that one either and wanted to know why everyone thinks the "It's a trap!" jokes are funny. He stayed awake long enough to hear "It's a trap!" in the movie and then drifted-off. Sheldon fell asleep and then woke up and went back to sleep after the movie was over. Youngest Son stayed-up for the whole thing and turned off the TV and DVD player when it was over. I had already passed-out in bed after the beginning scenes had played.

I got up at 5 a.m. like I do every morning to take my medication and let the dogs out for "walkies." I could tell the boys had tired themselves out because there wasn't a peep coming from the living room floor. Either that or Cat had slept on their faces and killed them, but I was pretty sure that hadn't happened. Usually there's a little snoring out of Youngest Son, but he was too tired to do so. After going back to bed and getting up a couple of hours later, Leonard was awake and playing on his DS; Youngest Son was just starting to awaken; and Sheldon was still crashed-out on the floor. I ordered them up and to get ready so that we could go out for breakfast at the worldwide-franchised evil clown fast food restaurant just a couple of blocks away. While the kids ate, Husband, Celeste and I sat and had some breakfast as well while waiting to return the boys to their parents (who were to meet us there). Husband said his coffee was McCrappy and realized why he never goes there for breakfast anymore. Ever. Once the parents had retrieved their offspring, we returned home.

Fortunately the guys didn't mess-up the house and things were easily put back in order. We thought about taking Celeste to the self-service dog wash a few towns over but they're closed on Sundays. So, I went and took a nap.

I remember the days of sleepovers at my house and going to parties at friends' houses. Everyone believed they could stay up all night and not have to sleep and sometimes punished those who did by dunking their bra in water and putting it in the freezer. At least the guys didn't do silly things like that at our house -- although one admitted they wanted to try the "hand in the bowl of warm water" trick. The only reason they didn't was because Mythbusters had already proven it didn't work. Lucky for them. If they'd tried it or if it had worked on my hardwood floors, there would be three "geeks" learning to sand, stain, and seal 79-year-old wood with their toothbrushes. And I don't believe there's an app for that.

And now, a brief announcement.

2012-02-18T14:53:00.002-06:00

Getting ready for Youngest Son's friends to arrive. Watching the ABC Family Harry Potter Marathon. Finishing my daily post. That is all.

True, I could be doing something more momentous for my 50th post. I just don't have the time today!

Dull, dull, dull: Part Deux

2012-02-17T22:24:00.000-06:00

Another uneventful day. I should be grateful, I guess. Usually when my days are incredibly busy they're not busy in a "good" way. My job requires a natural/national disaster for me to be employed and it's kind of embarrassing being the only person in a room cheering for a hurricane to make landfall so I can earn a paycheck and pay some bills.

I did supervise Youngest Son preparing for his friends to visit tomorrow. There will be three teenage boys (including Youngest Son) "camped-out" on my living room floor tomorrow night watching movies and playing video games. All of them are highly intelligent and easily bored if they're not intellectually challenged. Fortunately, being a parent and already having raised a child who's now in college, I know that large amounts of soda and pizza will keep their appetites satisfied and the large library of DVDs, board games, video games, books, etc. will keep their minds entertained. At least until the caffeine wears-off and they collapse on their sleeping bags. I get to enjoy the "I'm not tired" protests during the evening as I remind them that they'll have to get up the next morning and then watching them amble around the house like zombies because they believed they could stay awake all night.

There was some good news today from my Internet friends. A "friend" of mine became a U.S. citizen today. I only type "friend" with quotation marks because my friend, his wife, their family and I have never actually met. We're all fans of RiffTrax (from the creators of Mystery Science Theater 3000 -- that'll be another post someday) and we along with a LOT of other people have become friends over the Internet. But I'm very proud of his achievement. I have another "friend" in that group who became a citizen as well. I'm not collecting non-citizens and converting them, but I'm glad of their choice to join our great experiment and now they'll be able to become disgruntled with their government representation just like the rest of us.

Well, at least I posted today. Some days it's harder to think of a topic or something worth reading. I'm pretty sure by the time this weekend is over I'll have good subjects. Oh, and Presidents' Day has already been writing itself, so be sure to come back that day!

Dull, dull, dull....

2012-02-16T22:10:00.000-06:00

Pretty boring day. Took medicine and then took a nap. Got up to watch TV and worked around the house. Broke a tooth and went to the dentist. Scheduled another dental appointment for next week to have tooth taken care of. Made dinner. Got a text that Step-Father fell and broke his lower leg. Watched TV. Tried to play videogame and got stuck within the first 15 minutes. Ate dinner. Watched Big Bang Theory. Realized I'd not written a blog yet. Got laptop out and started typing.

Pretty sad when you can sum-up your day in less than 100 words. Oh well, not every day is going to be thrilling. Maybe tomorrow will be more exciting. Youngest Son has the day off, and he'll be busy preparing for his sleepover Saturday night. At least I remembered to post something tonight.

Teen drama isn't just for girls....

2012-02-15T23:02:00.000-06:00

I have always been very happy that I have two sons. Don't get me wrong, if I'd had a daughter, I'd love her just as much as I do my boys. But, having been raised basically as a boy (Biological Father always wanted a son and I'm the only child he's ever had), I'm not sure I'd know what to do with a girl. I'm not into Barbie and makeup and dresses. I don't watch fashion shows or keep up with the latest dreamboat boy bands. I'm much more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt than I am a skirt or even capris or shorts. The only dresses I own are my wedding dress (which no longer fits) and a costume I bought for Halloween one year that's just too awesome to get rid of.

I remember in school that Valentine's Day was always a big issue. You either got a card or candy because everyone else did or you got a flower/balloon/etc. because your boyfriend/girlfriend/parents sent you something. And the ones who usually got something from their parents were mortified for at least a week. If you didn't have a boyfriend/girlfriend, you got nothing and you went on about your day. If you did get something, you loved hearing your name called over the intercom with the other "blessed" members of your school who would all be mobbed in the office by everyone else who wanted to see which person got the biggest gift.

Or, occasionally, you'd be told you had a gift waiting -- perhaps a balloon or candy sold from one of the school's clubs as a fundraiser -- only to find that you did have something but it was "sent" from someone who actually didn't send you anything. And when you went to thank them for the nice gesture, they would laugh and make fun of the fact that you'd believe they'd actually take the time to send you something, much less pay for anything. I fell victim to that a few times. It didn't help with Biological Father being my school's principal from the time I was in 2nd grade until 8th grade. Then he became an administrator and that was even worse. I always felt bad when I saw it happen to others because I personally knew what they were going through and usually could figure out who'd been the person to pull the prank (especially since he/she usually couldn't keep their mouth shut about it).

The same thing happened this year to Youngest Son. He received a Valentine from one of the school clubs' fundraisers signed with the name of a boy that he hangs-out with in a group before school. Youngest Son told me that evening he thought it was creepy and even posted it on Facebook. I lectured him on how rude that was, especially since the boy was a friend of his through Facebook as well and could read the post. I told him that if someone had the time and thoughtfulness to remember him on Valentine's Day that he should just be thankful.

I was so furious at how insensitive he was at having received a card with a Hershey's Kiss from a male classmate that I went into maximum rant-drive. I told him that perhaps the boy felt that Youngest Son was a good friend and wanted to show his appreciation. I told him that maybe the boy had sent them to all of the guys that hang-out together as a friend. I then explained that maybe he felt that Youngest Son was his only friend and that reading on Facebook that it was "creepy" would be so hurtful that perhaps the boy might become depressed. I explained that maybe this boy had feelings for Youngest Son and the last thing he needed was to be made fun of by Youngest Son and his "friends" and asked how he would feel if the boy didn't return to school the next day. I also asked how he'd feel if the boy who might have been one that was picked-on by many others felt this was the last straw and never came back to school because he'd committed suicide. I also told him that it could, possibly, just be a prank by someone with nothing better to do with their time to try to embarrass this boy and make Youngest Son the newest accomplice (having experienced that myself).

Youngest Son went online and deleted the post but I reminded him that anyone could have shared it and started spreading rumors. Even one of his "friends" posted in the comments: "Gee, I didn't think your door swung that way!" Whether that "friend" was just trying to be funny (and failed) or really believes that Youngest Son feels that way is irrelevant. It's a small town with a lot of closed-minded people who don't take kindly to people who think and feel differently than the "normal" folk do. I told him the best thing to do would be to approach the boy the next morning at school and simply say "Thank you for thinking about me" and leave it at that.

Well, after school today, Youngest Son told me what he did. He went to the boy and said thank you for the card and candy. The boy said that he had been confused the evening before because he had received a card and candy addressed to him with Youngest Son's name as the sender. They both realized together -- they were the victims of a poorly thought out prank. Someone was trying to make them both look "bad" and get rumors started. Both boys agreed that they weren't going to fall into the "trap" that was laid for them and that they'd both enjoy the candy they didn't have to pay for and would still be friends and hang-out in the mornings with the rest of their group. No hard feelings and just laughter at whomever wasted their time and money on the trick. They even told their friends what had happened and all of the other guys and girls thought it was funny that they figured out they'd been "pranked" and laughed that someone would be insensitive and silly enough to try it. The group is still together and Youngest Son is even having a few (guys only, of course) over this weekend for a Star Wars marathon. I still can't believe that these are some of the smartest kids in the school and many STILL haven't seen the original trilogy!! How can that be??

Anyway, at least Youngest Son learned a valuable lesson. He needs to think before he posts and be much more sensitive of other people's feelings. The world has changed and bullying doesn't just happen on the schoolyard anymore. I hope this lesson sticks with him for a long time 'cause I know high school won't be any easier.

My obligatory Valentine's Day blog post

2012-02-14T14:59:00.000-06:00

February 14th -- known 'round the world as "St. Valentine's Day" or just "Valentine's Day" if you refuse to put the religious part towards it. Actually, it's no longer a "religious holiday" since the Catholic church removed it from the "official calendar" in 1969 (what an odd year to do that). In fact, it wasn't really a Catholic celebration first.

Arcadian Lykaia (for the Greeks) or Lupercalia (for the pre-Romans) was a cleansing festival to release the purity, health and fertility of a city and its inhabitants. There is debate whether it was a Greek or a Roman celebration first, but seeing how the Romans throughout history basically stole their history from the Greeks, we'll say the Greeks get the praise on this one. It was a celebration to the Greek god Pan (or the Roman equivalent Faunus) and goats and dogs were sacrificed while salt mealcakes were burned by Vestal Virgins. I don't have a goat; my dogs will NOT be sacrificed; and it's pretty darned hard to find a Vestal Virgin around these parts -- so we'll just go back to the more modern version of the holiday.

If you ask most anyone why Valentine's Day is celebrated, those who believe they know their history will say it's because Saint Valentine was beheaded on February 14th. Problem is, which Saint Valentine? There's Saint Valentine of Rome and Saint Valentine of Terni. There is also record of another Valentine who was martyred in Africa but not much information is known about him. True, Saint Valentine of Rome's skull is still venerated by many and crowned with flowers while on exhibit at the Basilica of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, Rome. Saint Valentine of Terni is also buried on the Via Flaminia but not close to Saint Valentine of Rome. Who knows what kinds of arguments might break out if they were close together.

The legend continues that Saint Valentine (it's not noted which one) was arrested by Roman Emperor Claudius II who attempted to convert Valentine to Roman paganism. Valentine refused, even though he was told he would be put to death if he did not convert, and attempted to convert Claudius II to Christianity. As he was being held in prison, awaiting his execution, Valentine supposedly became enchanted with the jailer's blind daughter. The story ends with either Valentine leaving a love letter that he wrote the evening before his execution to the blind daughter professing his undying love (thus, the first "Valentine") or that Valentine cured the jailer's daughter of her blindness before being beheaded. Either way, his head was lopped-off and it still baffles me why we don't get boxes of little chocolate decapitated heads full of chewy goodness instead of the giant heart-shaped things.

However, the heart-shaped things were introduced into the holiday because of the possible love that Saint Valentine may or may not have had for the blind girl. The first reference of love in connection with Valentine's Day most likely came from Geoffrey Chaucer's poem Parlement of Foules, written to commemorate the first anniversary of the engagement of King Richard II to Anne of Bohemia. Because Chaucer refers to Valentine's Day in the poem, many believed that he was writing about February 14th. A little-known fact (unless you're an English major like me and had to read Chaucer whether you liked it or not) is that Chaucer may have been referring to May 2nd, a celebration in the liturgical calendar of Valentine of Genoa. You could have guessed that religion would have crept back in even if the original Valentine story wasn't true. There may have been other writers who referred to February 14th and Valentine's Day in their work, but dating medieval writings can be difficult and Chaucer is pretty well-known (for good or for bad) so I'm sticking with this version. And it would make sense that Chaucer was referring to May 2nd because he spoke of birds seeking their mates and, even back in the 14th century, February was a little early and cold for birds to be thinking of mating. But if this is the true version, then I guess we should be biting the heads off of small candy birds. I do that with Peeps around another religious/pagan spring festival, but I digress.

So, where does it all come from? We know the popular tradition of giving cards was done as a marketing ploy which makes publishers large sums of cash every February as people panic for something to send so they're not picked-out as the one who forgot what holiday it was. And of course florists jump-in with the flowers and candy and balloons which makes Valentine's Day their equivalent of Black Friday for the year (at least until Mothers' Day comes along). Kids in American schools are either (1) required to purchase little cards that they can exchange with EVERY member of their class to show that they "want to be their Valentine" or (2) are forbidden to bring ANY cards, candy, etc. to school to share with their classmates for fear that someone might be forgotten, someone might get their feelings hurt, someone will think it's a religious holiday, or because someone has a peanut allergy. And, yes, I know that paper cards don't have peanuts in them, but the person addressing the cards might have been munching on peanuts while writing their little name on the card or, more likely, the wealthier parents who want to show their child has more and attempts to "buy" the favor of his/her classmates by attaching large bags of candy to the card which could have peanuts. It's a vicious cycle.

The only St. Valentine's "celebration" I can think of that won't offend anyone religiously or cause them anaphylaxis is commemorating the St. Valentine's Day Massacre of 1929. For those who don't know their history on this subject, I'll make it brief 'cause otherwise I could do a huge post on this event alone.

On February 14, 1929, members of Al Capone's South Side Italian gang waited across the street from 2122 North Clark Street in the Lincoln Park area of Chicago. They were waiting for Capone's rival gang boss, George "Bugs" Moran, who led the North Side Irish gang, to arrive at that address. Moran had been lured there supposedly with the promise of cut-rate whiskey from Detroit's Purple Gang, friends of Al Capone. Capone wanted revenge for prior killings by Moran's gang and only wanted Moran targeted in this hit, not the entire North Side gang. Moran's men had arrived at the garage early that morning but Moran and one of his assistants was running late. When Moran arrived behind the garage, he saw a police car arrive and decided to wait elsewhere.

What Moran didn't know was that the police car was there as part of Capone's plan for his associates to escape. Capone had hired hitmen from outside the Chicago area so that Moran wouldn't be able to recognize them. Two of the men wore police uniforms and entered the garage as if conducting a raid. The five members of Moran's gang and two associates were lined-up against the brick wall as if they were to be searched. As the men were facing the rear wall of the garage, two more of Capone's men entered and the four hitmen, using two Thompson submachine guns and two shotguns, murdered the men inside and then escaped by having the "police officers" escort the other two men to the waiting police cars. Witnesses told the police that they saw policemen leaving the area with two men "in custody."

It wasn't until Highball, a German Shepherd owned by one of the victims, began barking and howling that anyone came to look inside the garage. Highball and Frank Gusenberg, who despite being shot fourteen times refused to say anything about the killers before dying three hours later, were the only two survivors. Photos of the gruesome aftermath were posted in newspapers around the country.

The infamous wall from 2122 North Clark Street (minus a few dozen bricks sold over the years by its previous owner) is now on display at the Las Vegas Mob Museum, so I guess if you want something non-traditional for your Valentine, you can take them there.

Me? Maybe I'll take the Thompson into the garage and fire a few blank rounds towars the brick walls in commemoration. It's less fattening than chocolate; it won't die like cut flowers; and it's a tradition I can do every February 14th.

Snow Day!!!

2012-02-13T13:48:00.002-06:00

It's the first snow day of the year, so I'm taking the day off. Youngest Son is out of school. Husband listened to the scanners and watched the news this morning and saw all of the accidents occurring on his route to work, so he wisely decided to stay home. The dogs have frolicked briefly in the snow and don't care for the bitter cold. The cat won't go near anything that looks like it's got snow on it. It's still snowing and the continued forecast says it's supposed to start sleeting soon. We've cancelled our play's rehearsal for the evening, too.

The rest of my schedule is nap, fix dinner, watch the Westminster Dog Show, and possibly nap more before going to bed. And get this post published. We still have Internet and electricity, so I've got to post something!

The Battle of the Pets: Winter Edition, Day 2

2012-02-12T17:26:00.000-06:00

Well, we didn't get the snow or rain they forecast yesterday. The weatherpersons in our area have decided that it will be tonight/tomorrow that it shall arrive. Actually, today is much nicer outside than it was yesterday -- that always gives me an awful feeling of wintery foreboding. I'd blame my knee hurting on the impending snow, as it usually does, but it's still hurting from the reenactment back in January. Maybe I should get a professional to look at it sometime.

Anyway, this afternoon after running our errands and fighting the crowds of people in the grocery aisles who believe that any weather forecast for a single snowflake means they should go and stock-up on bread, milk, Pop-Tarts, and beer like it's the coming apocalypse, we decided to allow the dogs to play in the backyard for a while. Since it is warmer today they both were much happier frolicking around and chasing the football Youngest Son would throw towards them. Husband commented that he was stunned at how quickly Celeste could run and what sharp turns she made. I told him that he'd just never seen her at her playtime enough to get to watch her dig those extra dewclaws Beaucerons have into the ground and make her spin on a dime. Large divots and ruts began to appear in the moist soil from her high-speed turns as she raced Harley for the ball. Poor Harley, being a Schnoodle, has Schnauzer-like front legs which gets her really running but is stuck with the stick-like Poodle back legs that don't give her a lot of balance when turning quickly. Or the ability to walk on snow well -- they just poke right through and her belly freezes. Celeste is also a massive 85-pound dog designed for herding and running in the mountains of France, so she'll outrun Harley who's a lot younger any day -- regardless of weather, terrain, or treat waiting at the finish line.

Oh, allow me to digress for a moment. I'm sure some of you are wondering why I put the Pop-Tarts and beer in the list of things to stock-up on before a storm. Yes, I know you read it and thought it was there just to be funny or tried to skip-over it but still wonder what it has to do with anything. I can't find a copy of the report I read at the moment, but after Hurricane Katrina there was a survey done of the items that sold-out the fastest in the New Orleans area before the hurricane made landfall. Items number one and two were beer and Pop-Tarts. No kidding. You don't have to cook Pop-Tarts, so I assume that's why they made the list. Beer was for all the landfall parties that ended up not going quite the way they planned. So, there -- a little trivia for you. Now back to our regularly sponsored blog post.

After the dogs ran themselves silly I brought them back inside the house. I figured they'd each find a place on the recently-mopped hardwood floor or my new area rugs to crash. Nope. They're still wandering around the house, just like little kids who get wound-up on sugar or a good does of fresh air and sunshine. Celeste is still hunting for Cat but having no luck finding her. We were gone for a few hours, so Cat got quite the head-start on hiding today.

I will say that I was very impressed at the big box mart when we were shopping over how many people were respectful of Celeste's job as a service dog. I heard many more people telling their kids to not pet and trying to keep them out of the way when we were passing through. No drive-by pettings that I noticed, anyway. One young man, about age 8 or 9, had his hands full taking milk back to where his parents were. He walked past Celeste, making sure not to touch her at all, and said, "What a very nice dog you have, ma'am." I thanked him and waved at the parents when he got back to them. I had many other people come up and ask if she was a German Shepherd or a Doberman or both. I quickly explained that those breeds came from the Beauceron and was met with many "ooohs" and "aaahs" from interested people. Celeste kept watching everyone and making sure no one snuck up on me.

We were in one aisle and suddenly a lady with a thick German/Eastern European accent came up and started not quite yelling but really raising a fuss about Celeste. I couldn't quite understand what she was saying and since she came from behind me, I couldn't hear her very well. (I have a hearing problem where if I can't see your lips, I can't understand you as clearly.) It sounded something like, "Dog, very scared, danger" or "Dog, scare me, danger." Regardless, I have no idea where she came from 'cause we'd not passed her nor were we approaching her. If she wanted to run across the store to yell at me, she could at least have made sure I heard her. When I turned to face her, she ran away and we didn't see her again. Everyone in the aisle was stunned. I shrugged, gave Celeste a pat on the head, and everyone went on about their business.

So, that's the big excitement for the day. I'm sure they'll run around outside again later and keep searching for Cat all evening. Tomorrow night I'm going to watch the Westminster Dog Show -- Celeste's "niece" (for lack of a better term) Chaumette is going to be there. She was one of the top-five Beaucerons to be invited this year. Last year, Chaumette (who's three months younger than Celeste), En Theos (another Beauceron that's now a service dog), and Elias (also a service dog and specialized as a gluten-sniffing dog) all appeared at Westminster. Celeste received her championship and Rally Novice titles a few years ago, so she'll sit with us watching the show on TV. We'll be cheering all the Mes Yeux Vigilants dogs!!

The Battle of the Pets: Winter Edition

2012-02-11T16:59:00.000-06:00

Holy crap on a cracker! It's flippin' COLD outside! What is it that has Mother Nature thinking she can just suck us in with spring-like temperatures all through December and January and then drop the bottom out of the thermometer like this?

Even the dogs who've been long awaiting the new fence being built so they can romp around the backyard at their leisure are dashing out, getting their "business" done, and racing each other for the door. Celeste has become very good at hurdling Harley -- not jumping over one side and landing on the other but jumping from her butt to over her head -- in order to reach the warmth of the house. And both of these dogs have coats designed for cold weather! You think they'd be running themselves silly until we'd have to drag them across the yard and up the steps to get them inside.

The one really going crazy in the house right now is Cat. Because it's so cold and the dogs don't want to be outside much, they now want to play with her. She's very old and doesn't like dogs in the first place. Heck, the only person/thing she likes is Husband and he hates cats. So now, she's wandering around the house trying to find new places to hide because all of her old spots have been discovered. Even as I'm typing this I've had to call Celeste into the room and put her in a down-stay so she'll leave the cat alone long enough to get a bite to eat. Celeste doesn't want to hurt her. I'm not even sure if she really wants to play with her. I think she's just really curious about this small blue-grey meowing thing that bats her on the nose when she gets too close and doesn't want to be around everyone else.

Celeste is a herding dog and Cat is not going to be herded. We can't even herd her into her carrier when it's time to go to the vet. You have to grab her & turn the carrier up on its end and drop her inside before she claws the crap out of you trying to escape. When we get to the vet's, you then have to turn the carrier open-side-down and shake her out of it 'cause she's gotten really good at spreading her legs where she becomes an immovable object in there. The first time we did this the vet technician thought we were being cruel and said not to do that. After trying to reach-in and grab Cat and coming away with enough scratches and bites to where she thought she'd need stitches, the technician took the carrier and shook it until Cat "fell" out (from about 6 inches). That's why when we decided to move a few years ago I purchased an inexpensive cardboard carrying box from a major national pet supply store where we could just drop her inside, close the top, and then she'd have a bigger area to escape from once we got to the new house. Easy as pie.

Harley isn't paying any attention to Cat. She's already tried all of the chasing and playing and getting whapped on the nose. She's had three years with Cat and they've finally come to an understanding -- I don't bother you and you don't bother me and neither of us has to shed any blood on Mommy's new couch/pillows/rug/etc. They're finally able to walk past each other as if they don't have a care in the world. They do that "as if" because you can bet your sweet patootie when it comes to feeding time or, even worse, when the vacuum cleaner comes out, they'll tackle each other to be the first through the doorway. Neither likes it and all of the behavior training we've done to get them to at least tolerate the sound of the vacuum still hasn't worked.

The day is getting colder and now there's a forecast for ice/snow/mix for our area beginning tomorrow and into Monday. If it's just snow, the dogs will love it. Both think they can burrow under even the tiniest dusting and it's pretty hysterical to watch. But if there's ice, that's going to be a whole other issue. They may have four-paw-drive when they're running, but we all know it doesn't work on ice. Last thing I need is them being stupid and one (or both) ending up at the vet's for either falling off of something or sliding into something else. I guess we'll have to wait and see.

My fence! My Fence! My kindgom has a fence!

2012-02-10T13:25:00.000-06:00

Oh, I'm so happy right now!! I didn't think the contractors would come today because the weather forecast is for rain, snow, single-digit temperature lows, and the ground is wet and crappy. But the cement for all of the posts of my new privacy fence cured well and they came and finished it!

Now I don't have to look at the majority of the massive hoard one neighbor has behind the house where he's living (he doesn't own the house, just the hoard). I can only see the top portion. And the pack of dogs in the other neighbor's yard are now invisible to me and I can't hear their barking as loudly as before. It's nice when a "privacy fence" actually gives you that -- privacy.

Just before the guys got started today, Mr. Next-Door Neighbor (who isn't the one who's caused all of the problems for us that his wife and kids have) came over and asked the contractors for a bid on their property. Guess he recognizes quality when he sees it. And, I hope, he's finally gotten over the fantasy that we're going to sell him a two-and-a-half foot wide, 200-foot long strip of land that he paved part of his patio on last year without consulting a surveyor -- making it now our two-and-a-half foot wide strip of concrete. We said we weren't selling and now he'll have to pay to remove it. He's frustrated because his wife advised him that she was correct on the placement and that a survey showed it was their property, not ours. Sadly, her eyeballing of a "line" between a post and a tree doesn't constitute a legal survey and she was wrong. Now he's upset because he realizes that I've been right all of these years that (1) their property line is not as close to our house as she thought it was and (2) my readings of the platte maps and GIS photography was correct and that the other side of their property is actually inside their other neighbor's house (because people didn't bother to survey before building).

Regardless, the dogs are happy they can romp through the yard wherever they like. Well, they would be if it wasn't so freakin' cold outside right now. Both needed lots of encouragement to go into the yard and then they only did their "business" and ran straight back for the house where it's nice and warm.

Summer will be more fun when we can stay out for hours and throw the balls and frisbees for them. And, just like any other toddler, they'll play and wear themselves out and sleep for a long time. That will be nice.

Political rant for the day (prospects for more are good).

2012-02-09T16:43:00.000-06:00

I've been trying to stay out of the political fray in this blog because I know there are TONS of bloggers who are better at it (and many who are not), more popular, and people like a variety of subjects to read. But today, I've just had it. I've had it with the media and the taking heads of the national and local news stations yammering about certain topics while completely ignoring others and I'm tired of it. Not just tired; sick and tired. And everyone knows that's the worst tired to be. So, for today, I'm gonna rant 'cause it's my blog and I'll rant if I want.

First order of business in this rant -- there were two caucuses and a primary this week. Just two days ago on this past Tuesday for those who didn't know. They were held in the states of Colorado, Minnesota, and Missouri, respectively. Rick Santorum won the majority of votes in all three contests. However, Mitt Romney, days before the Missouri primary, said that Missourians were having a "beauty contest" instead of a primary because their votes "wouldn't count." Hmmm....clever way Mitt to get people to not turn-out to complete their civic duty and participate in a right given to them by the government in a state where you weren't very popular.

For those who kept saying the Republican Party was wasting millions of dollars in having a Primary that "wouldn't count" and that it was incredibly irresponsible on the part of Missouri to allow it -- let's look at the law. The State of Missouri has a law that sets the date of the primary and for 2012 it was set, by that law, for February 7th. The law was enacted when other states had moved their primary dates forward and Missouri wanted its primary to still be "relevant" in picking the candidates for president, regardless of political party. The Republican National Committee (RNC) set the rules that required all states with the exception of Iowa, New Hampshire, Nevada, and South Carolina to wait until March 6th to have their "contests" or risk losing having of the delegates for their state when it comes time for the RNC Convention later this year. That rule was enacted after Missouri and other states had changed their primary laws. Because the law is on the books in Missouri, the State legislature attempted to pass a resolution to move the date so that the primary would be in "compliance with the RNC" and that they wouldn't have to risk losing delegates. Whether you believe the statements that the Missouri Legislature just didn't act in time or that the Governor (a Democrat) helped to block the change of date in order to cause the problem, the fact remains that a change couldn't be passed and the State of Missouri was required by law to hold the primary last Tuesday.

So, of course all of the Republican candidates who weren't going to have a great showing in Missouri decided to make fun of the predicament the people of the Show-Me-State were in or, in the case of Newt Gingrich, didn't appear on the ballot at all. What people are conveniently forgetting is that the primary wasn't only for Republicans. Democratic candidates and even a Libertarian candidate appeared on their respective party's ballots in Missouri. Even Republican candidates who have long since cancelled their campaigns appeared and some even got votes! Everyone just assumes that President Obama will receive the nomination again for the Democratic Party, but technically the votes cast by any Democrats towards the choosing of a candidate would count since the Democratic National Committee (DNC) didn't make any changes to their rules/regulations regarding primary dates. So the delegates selected by the primary in Missouri for the Democrats will count. Only the Republicans have to assemble again on March 17th in a caucus to select the delegates for the RNC Convention. And, any registered voter in the state who declares themself to be a Republican can participate in the caucus -- so even though the popular vote was for Santorum, the caucus vote could change.

But to say that "Missourians' votes didn't count" is just wrong. The people of Missouri who went to vote weren't there just for a presidential nominating primary. Many cities, towns, counties, and municipalities had issues on the ballot that needed votes. Many, regardless of their political affiliation, went to vote on some controversial issues. Those votes most certainly counted. The decisions they made that day on those amendments and/or referendums impact the lives of Missourians very much and those who were dissuaded from voting by presidential candidates saying that their votes "wouldn't count" were completely misled. And they were misled by the people who want to be the next leader of the country! How despicable is that? It's like waving a flag that says, "Yes! You can trust me because I'm an honest leader but only when it suits me and I really don't feel the need to waste my time on you!" Any candidate who would directly or indirectly try to influence a registered voter to NOT vote should NOT be allowed to be a candidate for president (in my opinion, for whatever that's worth).

The second order of business in this rant is my complete frustration and disgust with the media, especially the national media, to continue their blackout of Dr. Ron Paul's candidacy. And don't act like you've not noticed it -- even major networks like CNN have admitted that they've been purposefully non-reporting anything about his campaign. Just watch the debates -- who gets pushed to the side of the group and not asked very many questions? And it's incredibly stupid for the media to do that (1) when there are questions for which Dr. Paul is more than competent to answer (medical issues come to mind) and (2) when the public is watching closely to see just how biased the network really is. And regardless if you're a Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, or any other party affiliation, you should be demanding that they treat Dr. Paul with the same courtesy they do the other candidates. Last night I was watching the NBC Nightly News and it was said, loud and clear, that there were three Republican candidates. Who dropped out?? Romney? Santorum? Gingrich? If they're saying that there are only three Republicans left in the fight, then it had to be one of them because Ron Paul has said he'll stay until it's "mathematically impossible" for him to win enough delegates and that time certainly hasn't come yet.

Is this a campaign speech in favor of Ron Paul? Not necessarily. I have the candidate in mind that I would like to win. I'm incredibly glad to see many of the candidates drop-out of the race and feel some of them took way too long to do so. However, I certainly know that if I were running for office that I would want to have the same coverage that the other candidates receive. I'm not saying that every single candidate should get 24/7 news feeds and you can usually tell who is and who isn't really in the race for the long-haul and committed to actually getting elected. If I didn't have enough money to put as many commercials on television as the other candidates, that would be my issue and I'd have to really work hard on fundraising. But to give a speech somewhere or participate in a televised debate and be basically ignored while the media fawns all over the "big name" (i.e. "big money") candidates is just not fair. And to be completely omitted by a national news program when you're (1) still on the ballot, (2) still campaigning, (3) haven't stopped your campaign, and (4) are the number-one recipient of campaign contributions from active duty service members and their families is offensive.

Children are taught in school that anyone (who is a native-born citizen of the United States over the age of 35 and has lived in the US for over 14 years) can grow up to become the president. The media is teaching them otherwise. And since the American people are becoming more and more "educated" by mass media and turning into sheep that follow only what the famous and wealthy have to say, I guess I shouldn't say I'm surprised at this turn of events. It still ticks me off royally, but I shouldn't be surprised. What I am doing, though, is educating my children in their political rights and making sure that both (only one is eligible to vote at the moment, though) understand that it is a civic duty; it is a right given as part of their citizenship in this nation; and that if they decide they don't want to or don't care about voting, then they really have no right to complain when things don't go their way.

Drawing a blank.

2012-02-08T15:33:00.000-06:00

Nope....I got nuthin' here today. It was supposed to rain; it didn't. It was supposed to snow; it tried to but didn't. Went to weekly therapist session and didn't accomplish much. Started to do the dishes; didn't get around to doing them. It's a boring, drab day with nothing inspiring me to write. Of course, when you're a depressed person and it's a depressing day, you kind of expect that.

Maybe tomorrow will have something. Right now, I'll just give the ol' brain a rest and see if something does come up worth posting.

Oh....by the way....I've got the "voices" tied-up in the back of the brain right now arguing over things that I "should" worry about but in all reality I can't "do" anything about. So, they can stay there for a while. Or at least until they chew their way through the ropes.

200th anniversary of shaking, rattling, and rolling in the Midwest.

2012-02-07T10:13:00.000-06:00

Yeah, yeah, yeah....go to Google or most any other site today and you'll see that today's the 200th anniversary of Charles Dickens' birth. Or they'll talk about how the Beatles arrived in New York in 1964. But February 7, 1812 is actually known for something much bigger here in the United States, even if 99% of the population has no idea what that is.

Today is the 200th anniversary of the largest of the 1811-1812 earthquakes known as the New Madrid Earthquakes. It's also the day the Mississippi River "ran backwards" for three days or just several hours, depending on which historical account you believe.

Now, I grew up living in the New Madrid Seismic Zone (NMSZ) and the houses I lived in were all near or almost on the fault line itself. I remember growing up we'd see the chandeliers swaying during church services if a small tremor happened. You could always tell who wasn't originally from the area because they'd be the ones freaking-out about it while the rest of us just continued on as if nothing had happened. For years when I had friends over I explained to them that if the house felt like it was going up-and-down, that's because a heavy train was going by (we lived near the tracks). If it felt like someone was shaking the house back-and-forth, that was an earthquake. And if it sounded like a large truck had crashed outside and the back-and-forth shaking started, that's a bigger earthquake and to hold onto something!

I remember in 1990 everyone in Southeast Missouri was making earthquake kits and planning to sleep in their clothes -- with their shoes on, too -- from December 1st to December 5th because Dr. Iben Browning, a climatologist, and Dr. David Stewart, director of the Center for Earthquake Studies at Southeast Missouri State University in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, announced in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch that Dr. Browning's "prediction"of a magnitude 6.0-7.5 earthquake along the New Madrid Fault with the specific dates of December 2nd and 3rd to be of the highest risk. Many were suspect of Dr. Browning who had claimed to predict the Mount St. Helens eruption and the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake that interrupted the World Series in San Francisco. When Dr. Stewart jumped on-board the prediction bandwagon, some felt that gave new validity to the prediction, but others (mostly scientists) didn't believe it. However, a 4.6 tremor near Cape Girardeau in September 1990 got the public in a panic. I remember sitting on the floor of my apartment that morning when it happened and the shaking was so intense that I couldn't stand up. Of course, my apartment was in the upper level of a really old house which shook like Jell-o even if a large truck drove by. We did end up with damages from the natural gas line to the furnace becoming separated in the shaking and a few knick-knacks knocked off the shelves. But other than that, it wasn't any worse than any others I'd weathered previously.

The national and international media picked up the story from the Associated Press and ran with it. There were news and documentary crews from around the world descending on the little town of New Madrid. For days you could barely move through the streets because of all of the satellite trucks and big-name press talking heads who wanted to be there when it happened. What mostly happened, though, was a lot of people interviewing each other. There was a news crew from Japan that was there to measure the differences between a Japanese quake and a "big one" from the NMSZ. Every major network and publication had someone "on the ground" ready to report. In hindsight, it was rather silly of them to do that. If they had read the accounts of the actual 1811-1812 earthquakes, they'd have known that approximately 1000 people died during them -- and that's only because the area was very sparsely populated back then and there were no official counts of how many Native Americans still lived in the area. So, just for the sake of a story, everyone decided it would be best to put their top people in a small area right next to the levee holding-back the Mississippi River and wait for the big disaster to occur.

It became one of the biggest non-events ever in media history. December 2nd and 3rd came and went and nothing happened. The media and disaster tourists packed-up their things and went home. The New Madrid Museum printed t-shirts about "surviving the big one" which made fun of the fiasco that happened in their town. Dr. Browning said there was a 50% chance of it happening -- but technically there's a 50% chance of it happening any day of the week! It either does or it doesn't! But that doesn't mean it won't again....

The "New Madrid Earthquake" began on December 16, 1811 at about 2 a.m. Another major tremor happened a few hours later that reportedly knocked people off their feet and the ground could be seen rolling with the seismic waves. Landslides even destroyed small towns. Large trees were snapped in two and huge cracks appeared in the surface of the ground with large sulfur pockets being opened to the air. Sand blows erupted and the scars from them can still be seen to this day in the fertile farmland that grows soybeans, cotton, corn, milo and rice. There wasn't a seismic scale back then, but from the reports of those who survived and the geographic evidence, it's estimated that the earthquake was approximately a magnitude 8.6.

The February 7, 1812 quake was the largest and is still presumed to possibly be one of the largest earthquakes in human history. It's estimated that it would have measured a magnitude 8.8 and reportedly rang church bells in Boston and caused bricks to fall from buildings in Cincinnati. Local diaries reported people watching others walking across open fields, then feeling the shaking, and then seeing the person walking disappear into the ground. The Mississippi River began to churn and large whirlpools were created. At this time, a portion of the riverbed rose and created a fluvial tsunami which gave rise to the reports of the Mighty Mississippi "running backwards." Large waterfalls were also created and river traffic was doomed as a reported 30 boats were thrown over the falls, killing all passengers aboard. Islands in the river were completely washed-over or simply subsided, never to be seen again. And in Tennessee, the Reelfoot Lake was created as a large mass of land subsided due to the shaking and river backflow filled-in the hole. Tourists today to Reelfoot Lake will enjoy the large bald cypress trees that have grown over the centuries in this shallow lake created by geological violence.

No one knows if or when another major earthquake will occur along the NMSZ. The first report I received this morning from the U.S. Geological Survey was for a 2.5 along the NMSZ not far from one of the places I lived. You wouldn't feel one that mild, but it still shows how active the zone is. And it's another reason I'm glad I moved away from that area -- I really didn't fancy having liquifaction from the groundwater coming up through the sandy soil and creating a nice quicksand that would cause my house to sink. Nor was I very thrilled about the idea of having to fend-off neighbors and strangers who didn't stay prepared for any disaster while trying to ensure my family still had plenty of the water, food, and other supplies we'd stockpiled.

It's actually quite sad, in my opinion at least, that even though there are areas conducting "Shake-out" drills at schools and government buildings today, they're really not saying why they need to have these drills and how important it is to be prepared. Everyone thinks that earthquakes are a "California problem" and no one else should worry. Well, when the next New Madrid Earthquake strikes, millions of people in large cities like St. Louis and Memphis along with millions of others in the U.S. will find out just how dangerous a quake in the Midwest can be. And the country will never be the same after that.

A fence! A fence! My kingdom for a fence!

2012-02-06T14:29:00.000-06:00

Anyone who says "Backyard neighbors/friends are best" can just kiss-off for all I care right now. We moved to our house in 2009 and have had nothing but issues with the long list of people who have moved in and out of the houses behind us. Thankfully, though, my desire for a privacy fence is coming to fruition and I can't wait for it to be finished. Heck, right now I just can't wait for it to be started!

I like our backyard. Oh, it has its issues like any other -- weeds that you try to kill but won't go away; flowers you try to keep blooming every year that die quickly, etc. There's a depression in the middle of the yard that we've been trying to figure out since we bought the place because it doesn't always drain well after a large rain. It looks like there might have been an outbuilding of some sort there but we can't find anyone who knows. And with the house having been the oldest built in this area of town (it used to be the only thing out here for years), a lot of people "know" the house but they don't know enough to give us a good history. We know it had a name but that only lasted as long as the person who built it lived here. Later as the town grew, the land was divided and sold and other houses were built around it. Many people only know the house because of the way it sits on the lot. Since it originally faced a private road, the "front" of our house doesn't face the current paved/mapped road. People look at our house at first with an expression of, "Oh! How quaint and charming! They don't build them like that anymore!" which then changes into, "What's wrong with that? Where's your door? How do you get into your house?" as if we couldn't figure it out for ourselves.

We have large trees in our backyard which is very nice in the summer when they're in full foliage and provide nice shade for the yard and house. Today I noticed that our red-headed woodpecker is back again and has a smaller friend with him/her. It's up there pecking away at the same spot on the tree I can see outside from my home office/library/catch-all room. The smaller woodpecker is trying-out its skills on a small branch and keeps getting dizzy and falling off. The larger one, however, just needs a little thrash-metal music going and it would probably make a great YouTube video.

If the woodpecker is back, that means that soon the squirrels will start commuting again soon. One neighbor's boys keep asking us if we want them to shoot the squirrels. I tell them no because (1) if I wanted them shot I could do it myself, (2) you can't shoot them within the city limits, and (3) they're a great source of entertainment for the entire family -- dogs included. Our first winter here we found out just how resourceful our squirrels are because we forgot to bring inside the cushions for the small patio chairs on the front/side/whatever porch. After the first good freeze came, we realized that when we looked outside at the cushions that they were smaller. Knowing that many materials contract in cold temperatures but never having heard that about cotton and batting, I went to investigate. The squirrels had come down from their trees and ripped-into the covering to steal the stuffing for their nests. I know that's what they did because they weren't too shy to continue doing it as I watched through the window and each carried away as much as they could in their cheeks. So now, every winter, we leave a pillow that's been worn-out past its usefulness and let the squirrels rebuild their nests and stay warm.

As the days get longer and their food supplies run out, the squirrels will have to start foraging again. This is when our backyard becomes Grand Central Station. They've learned to hop from the trees in the front yard (where the nests are) to the roof and run across it to the back of the house. From there they drop down onto the weatherhead that protects the main power lines coming into the house. They trot across the lines into the nearest tree and then scurry and jump from tree to tree on their way to the big walnut tree for "work" each day. In the afternoons, they follow the same path back. You can almost set your watch by it. It keeps Harley entertained because she loves to look out the window and watch them go by. I know she secretly wants one to miss a step so it will come down and she can play with it, but I seriously don't think she'd know what to do with one if it did.

As Spring gets nearer, we'll soon hear the whapping of their new progeny against the side of the house. It's a rite of passage all of the squirrels in this yard must go through. After the adults allow the younglings to leave the nest, they have to learn the high-wire act just like everyone else. Most of the time, however, the younger squirrels don't quite have the strength or depth perception to jump from the tree back to the power lines to make it to the roof. For about a month or so we'll have a serenade of thumps and thuds against the eaves of the house as they try to make the leap and miss. Fortunately, they've never been seriously hurt and we're not cursed with squirrel carcasses of the not-so-talented littering our yard. They just get back up and try it again.

But with the neighbors behind us now, I'll be glad when the fence is up. Not just for ourselves and the dogs, but to preserve our little habitat. One neighbor just moved-in with three large-ish dogs staked-out in their backyard and puppies running in-and-out from under the house. All they do is bark and bark and bark when I take Harley and Celeste outside for their "walkies." The last thing I need is one getting loose and trying to attack either of my dogs. They won't like it too much if that happens and not only are they charged for damages to my pet but also can be arrested for the injury/death of a service dog which ranges from a misdemeanor to a felony in our state depending on the severity.

The other neighbor has been there since before we moved-in, but it's not his house or his property and he keeps trying to come over to tell us what we can and cannot do with ours. One night he showed-up on my back steps unannounced and was just waiting there for one of us to come out. He's darned lucky he wasn't met with one of the many pistols I keep handy for instances like that. Now that he's seen the fence contractors coming by to bid on the construction, he keeps saying how he's promised us that he'll help build the fence to make sure it's correct. I've informed the chosen contractors that if he begins to pester them or attempts to "build" anything on our property line to let us know and the police will have another discussion with him.

It just figures, though, that the incredibly warm winter we've been having will come to an abrupt end this week as the contractors try to get the concrete for the posts to cure. Days upon days of Spring-like weather and now we start getting temperatures in the "seasonal" range. Oh well, they have a one-year warranty on all construction and materials -- and I made darned sure that it included construction during the winter. So, if the thing starts to lean, they have to come fix it. I'm nothing if not thorough (and perhaps a little nitpicky) over contracts and making sure I get what I want.

Now I have to decide....planks facing out where I have to look at the posts and cross-beams from my window or planks facing in which could give the annoying neighbors a ladder to climb into my yard.... The city laughed when I joked about wanting a 6-foot chain link fence with razor wire on top. Too bad....it would be cheaper....

"We" are still in charge today!

2012-02-05T16:43:00.000-06:00

He, he, he...."we" are still in control today!! Kept her in bed all morning and into the afternoon. As a matter of fact, "we" probably wouldn't have begun a post today if she'd not had really weird dreams (Not our fault! Honest!) and the family wanted to order pizza online. Plus, she's not staying in bed when the Super Bowl is going to be on TV!

So, maybe tomorrow you'll get something really worth reading. Today "we" just have weird dreams and a phone call from one of the lead actors in the play calling to say they can no longer participate. So, "we" will be busy trying to figure that issue out the rest of the night.

Crap....Celeste is back and doesn't look happy about her sitting up on the couch typing. Gotta go!

Feeling like death-on-toast lets "voices" speak.

2012-02-04T13:57:00.002-06:00

Yay!! Jackie's feeling under the weather today, so we get to write!!

Who are "we," you ask? "We" are the "voices" from her head, and we're all trying to figure out what to post.

There are lots of things going on -- rehearsals for the Community Theatre play; getting the new fence constructed; dealing with the new neighbors behind the house with a pack of dogs that won't shut up -- and that's just the short list!

However, she's a smart cookie and has taken her medication for the day plus a flu-fighting kicker. "We" are still busy with our lists, arguments, worries, etc. But she's got a comfy couch and blankets to curl up with which allows sleep to shut us up for a little bit.

This post is just being placed here 'cause "we" convinced her that she could do this and mistakenly promised that as long as she would be able to type somewhat legibly, "we" would help keep the posts coming. "We" forgot that the laptop works in the bedroom, too....an oversight we stupidly made.

Ooh!! Puppy Bowl advertisement on TV!! That's always cute (though Jackie will deny it) but it won't be as much fun as the Super Bowl tomorrow. Gotta make sure she's ready for the game tomorrow. Youngest Son is practicing his trumpet. Husband already did grocery shopping and dealt with the dogs when they barked at someone coming up the drive unannounced. Now he's doing laundry. Harley is laying the in the floor and Celeste is staring at "us" like it's a mortal sin that "we" are posting online. And Cat is....well....she's being Cat and staying away from everyone.

And now Celeste is really starting to stare so "we" are going to go for now. Nice doggie....putting the laptop away....

Not able to post myself, but auto-post helps me stay on schedule!

2012-02-03T08:00:00.001-06:00

Today I'm in St. Louis. As I mentioned before, I have a stupidphone, so I can't connect to the Internet while I'm on-the-road like this. If I were going to be staying here for more than just the day (and not being as busy as I expect I am), then I'd bring my laptop with me.

But, I'm also not going to be able to see well enough to type, so I'm creating this post on Thursday. That way, the auto-post feature will kick-in and I'll be able to keep my "post-a-day" promise to myself. I'll fill y'all in on what's happening as soon as I know.

70 years of love trumps 6 weeks of winter

2012-02-02T14:51:00.000-06:00

Every year I've felt sorry for the poor rodents all across the country that get dragged out of their dens as the crack of dawn to see a "shadow" and predict the weather. It's kind of hard for them to NOT see their shadow because of all of the television lights and flash bulbs going off during the process.

This year the majority of the country's "official groundhogs" supposedly "saw" their shadows. Depending on what part of the country you're living in, you don't really care that there will be six more weeks of winter because "winter" as we've always known it hasn't existed this year. Lots of people are blaming it on global warming. Funny thing about that is this -- the local news channel went through their archives of recorded temperatures for the month of January all the way back into the early 1900's. The average temperature in January 2012 doesn't even rank in the top ten of the warmest temperatures. The warmest was in the 1930's.

If you mention Groundhog Day to most people, they either think of the poor rodent awakenings or of the movie starring Bill Murray. I, however, have pleasant memories of associating Groundhog Day with a different type of emotion -- love. My Maternal Grandparents were married on February 2nd, 1942. Sadly, they've both passed away but I still remember seeing them exchanging flowers or gifts or planning to go out for dinner instead of worrying about whether or not Spring was coming soon. They loved each other very much and even after my grandfather had a stroke, my grandmother stayed right with him to help him. I know it wasn't easy on her, but she was there. And then after he fell and broke his hip and had to move into a nursing home, she went every day to visit him. She'd even do his laundry and often take him food. We told her that we paid the staff to take care of those things, but she wanted to be the one taking care of him. It was always hard to get her to take time for herself just to go out to lunch with us, even when he was telling her that she needed to go. When he passed away, she was terribly lonely but I could tell that the love was never going to end. Today, the two of them rest side-by-side in the family plot. If they could, I'd bet that they'd still be holding hands today.

So, I dedicate today's blog post to their memories. Sure, I could sit and write funny stories about groundhogs or the weather or any other number of topics. But today, on what would have been their 70th anniversary, I'll remember the love they had for each other and consider myself incredibly lucky to be in a loving relationship.

My political editorial - Come back to reality, Mittens!!

2012-02-01T17:13:00.000-06:00

Okay....it's Wednesday and I was going to blog about my therapy session today. We talked about some things I've posted on my blog, some responses I've received, and other issues in my life. It was a nice, typical session. My therapist was just surprised that I wasn't there as early before my appointment as usual and thought I was going to skip-out today. I told her that I'd gotten on a rant and had to finish a post. She asked if it was here on my blog and I told her it was on my Facebook page. But, under the circumstances, it belongs here too.

Those who've been reading my posts for the past month know that I've been trying to stay out of the political fray. Politics and religion. Two topics on which I have very strong opinions that many in my family and circle(s) of friends disagree. That's why I don't bring them up. But today, a statement was made that is being argued and will be for a LONG time to come. Or, at least until the speaker figures out that he's made a complete idiot out of himself with it and goes away (my opinion).

I'm sure you've already heard, but today on CNN, Republican Presidential Candidate Mitt Romney -- who just the night before won the Florida Primary -- said that he's not concerned about poor people. Well, not exactly. He said he's not concerned about the "very poor." Even that's under debate. Here's part of the transcript:

"By the way, I'm in this race because I care about Americans. I'm not concerned about the very poor. We have a safety net there. If it needs repair, I'll fix it. I'm not concerned about the very rich. They're doing just fine. I'm concerned about the very heart of America, the 90, 95 percent of Americans who right now are struggling. I'll continue to take that message across the nation."

Okay...so let me sort of dissect this statement. He's not concerned about the "very poor" because they have a "safety net." He's not concerned about the "very rich" because they're "doing just fine." And he suggests that 90-95 percent of Americans are struggling right now. What I've not been able to determine from his statement is this -- when do the "poor" become "very poor" and the "very rich" become just "moderately comfortable" in his mind?

I've been "poor." I've been "very poor." I've been "very poor where you have to decide whether you and your child can eat or just him so you can pay your electric bill." I've been "very poor to the point where you apply for help but you're told you're not 'poor enough' for it even though you don't have two nickels to rub together." I grew up poorer than my family would like to admit, I'm sure. And, sadly, I know that with the state of the economy and the outlook for the future, my kids probably won't have much to inherit from me and their success will be completely dependent upon them and the choices they make. No huge nest egg waiting around for them like good-ol' Mitt had.

But, just to show that I'm not trying to make a soundbite into a rant, let's read the rest of the transcript from what was said next by Soledad O'Brien as she tried to let him reword his response:

O'Brien: "All right. I know I said 'last question,' but I've got to ask you: You just said, 'I'm not concerned about the very poor because they have a safety net.' And I think there are lots of very poor Americans who are struggling who would say, 'That sounds odd.' Can you explain that?"

Romney: "Well, you had to finish the sentence, Soledad. I said I'm not concerned about the very poor that have a safety net, bit if it has holes in it, I will repair them. The challenge right now -- we will hear from the Democrat(ic) Party, the plight of the poor. And there's no question, it's not good being poor. And we have a safety net to help those that are very poor.

"But my campaign is focused on middle-income Americans. My campaign -- you can choose where to focus. You can focus on the rich, that's not my focus; you can focus on the very poor -- that's not my focus. My focus is on middle-income Americans, retirees living on Social Security, people who can't find work, folks that have kids that are getting ready to go to college.

"These are the people who have been most badly hurt during the Obama years. We have a very ample safety net. And we can talk about whether it needs to be strengthened or whether there are holes in it. But we have food stamps, we have Medicaid, we have housing vouchers. We have programs to help the poor. But the middle-income Americans, they're the folks that are really struggling right now, and they need someone who can help get this economy going for them."

Whoa, whoa, whoa there! Let's back this train up and look at some of what he's said -- and let's do it from the perspective of someone who's been there. Me.

"My focus is on middle-income Americans, retirees living on Social Security, people who can't find work, folks that have kids that are getting ready to go to college." Well, Mitt, in my life I have family members who are retired and living on Social Security. They're always complaining about how it doesn't help make ends meet and how poor they are, so that doesn't sound like "middle-income" to me. Also, my friends who have been looking for work (many for very extended periods of time) would probably not categorize their familial budgets within the "middle-income" range since they don't have an income because they are looking for work! And those with kids in college -- if it weren't for Eldest Son's Paternal Grandfather who retired as a professor from the university Eldest Son is currently attending, he probably wouldn't be attending that college right now. Why, you ask? Because even though Husband works for the government and I work intermittently for the government (for now), we don't qualify to be "middle-income" and can't afford the tuition, even with Pell Grant assistance. That's why Youngest Son is already making plans to attend a college where he'll have to work his way through to pay the tuition because he knows by the time he graduates high school that anyone will be lucky if they can send their child to college.

"But we have food stamps, we have Medicaid, we have housing vouchers." I will agree that those programs do exist. I will agree that there are people using those programs at this time. I will also agree that there are many who would rather lose a limb than have to sign-up for those programs but would be homeless and starving without them. I've had to use food stamps. I'm not proud of it -- but I made sure that as soon as I didn't need them I got off of the program. When I was pregnant with Youngest Son, I was begged by a County Health official to sign-up for WIC (Women, Infants, and Children nutrition program) and food stamps -- not because I didn't make enough (I actually made too much) but because they needed the numbers to keep their program going because too many women refused to enroll for what they thought was "charity" instead of a program designed to help them through their pregnancy and to ensure their child had a good start in life.

Then came the time when Husband wasn't working and I was very ill. Neither of us had any income and our savings had been depleted drastically. We needed help but we didn't want to ask for it. However, we swallowed our pride and went to the government office to apply for food stamps so we could be sure there would be something to eat. They asked to see our prior year's taxes. The year before, I had worked for several months and made an average amount in salary. Husband wasn't working and was staying home to homeschool Youngest Son while also serving in the National Guard. After looking at our paperwork, we were told that even though we had absolutely no income at the time and our savings was severely depleted (read: gone), we did not qualify because I had worked the year before and all of that money should be available now. Forget that there are bills to pay between when I earned it and the moment I was sitting in that chair -- I had made money in the past and regardless of my inability to work due to severe illness, we weren't eligible for assistance. As a matter of fact, the lady "assisting" us asked why we were wasting her time. According to her and her little chart on her desk, we were "middle-income" enough.

Mitt seems to forget that the majority of the "middle-income" voters he's referring to are only a paycheck away from being "very poor" and are pretty furious right about now. He also forgets that the "very poor" vote just as much as the "very rich" do. Yes, believe it or not -- many of the "very poor" are bussed to polling centers by *gasp* Democratic candidates and their staffers, encouraged all the while to "Vote for Our Candidate" while being offered free coffee, donuts, or whatever it is that gets them on the bus. Many people agree with that practice and many others disagree with it. However, if you look in "very poor" areas of our largest cities, you'll find that a LOT of votes are cast! Meanwhile, in the "middle-income" areas, a lot of them who actually are "middle-income" or "moderately comfortable" aren't voting as much. Many are too busy trying to work long hours at one or more jobs and perhaps can't get time-off to go vote. Others are incredibly disenfranchised with the political system as a whole (wonder what caused that??) and don't care anymore. And the apathy they have regarding whether or not to vote spills out into their community and their children's beliefs on whether or not it's worth bothering to vote when there's something good on TV.

You'd think someone who touts how intelligent he is and how he's so good at creating (and taking away) jobs and knowing what the American public is thinking and how they'll vote would have figured that out.

I'd suggest that Mitt stay out of the "very poor" neighborhoods 'cause many of the "poor" would be more than willing to show how rich they really are -- in their values, their pride, and possibly with a good-ol' fashioned butt-kickin'!

What he needs is someone to whap him upside the back of his head every time he makes a stupid remark like that. He still isn't worth my vote, but at least he might be more interesting to watch.

One month down, 11 more to go

2012-01-31T16:44:00.000-06:00

January has flown by and given me an "interesting" month. At least February is a short month. It will help having that extra day in there this year so I can meet my goal as well as wish friends I have who were born on February 29th a truly "Happy Birthday."

It's been fun this month posting every day. People have loved some of my posts. People have hated some of my posts. Sometimes they were the same posts. And many of them have been largely ignored. It doesn't bother me either way how people feel about them or whether or not they're read. I'm doing this for myself and so far I'm liking it pretty well.

The hardest thing is coming up with a good topic each day. Often something will happen and it gets my dander up enough to write about it. Other times I'm reminded of something I've heard/read/watched and want to share it with those of you who read this. The majority of the time, however, I'm sitting and staring at the computer trying to think of a topic that won't bore you to death or be so incredibly dull that it becomes the most-read item on the blog and then I'm known not for my humor or intelligence or opinion but only for the most incredibly successful cure for insomnia published on the Internet.

I can only write about the dogs so many times and I've still got a LOT of the year left to go. I'd write more about my family but I'm just not there yet and not everyone wants to hear every little thing happening. And though my most popular articles so far have been about television shows, I don't sit and watch television all day enough where I'd be able to comment on a really wide variety of awful shows. And they'd have to be awful because all of the great shows have people writing and tweeting and blogging about them already.

So, thanks to those who have stuck with me since day-one. And thanks to all who have shared my articles with their friends and brought new readers to my little corner of the interwebs.

Oh, and don't worry....the "voices" are still there and still driving me insane and still keeping me up at night. Fortunately they're starting to try to schedule dates for certain subjects, so maybe the blog will be a little more organized. But I wouldn't count on it.

A rose received on any day is still pretty sweet!

2012-01-30T21:42:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I received a very nice surprise. Husband and Youngest Son went to the grocery store for me and when they returned, they didn't bring just the groceries home. Both had picked out a bouquet of roses that they thought I would enjoy. And they were right!

A nice bouquet of yellow roses. That's one of the many, many things I really appreciate about "the guys." I enjoy that they like to spring surprises on me like that. No special occasion -- just because. They know I've been stressing over a lot of things recently and wanted to help me cheer-up. Even though flowers don't last for a long time (and I kill plastic plants), it's still nice to see something so pretty that reminds me of how much they love me. They'll send me flowers when I'm working away from home. They do it to remind me how much they love and miss me and also to make my co-workers jealous when I have them sitting on my desk.

I know it may not seem like much, but to me it means a lot. And that's what matters.

Kritzinger's warning -- a moral for today

2012-01-29T11:57:00.003-06:00

Today's post comes from a story told in the movie "Conspiracy" by Reinhard Heydrich to Adolf Eichmann and Rudolf Lange that supposedly was told to Heydrich by Friedrich Kritzinger. There has been some debate over whether this story was actually told by Kritzinger to Heydrich or if it was mentioned at the Wannssee Conference during one of the breaks when the meeting was not being transcribed. However, it is a fabulous story and the moral is something very worth remembering.

He told me a story about a man he had known all his life, a boyhood friend. This man hated his father. Loved his mother fiercely. His mother was devoted to him, but his father used to beat him, demeaned him, disenherited him. Anyway, this friend grew to manhood and was still in his thirties when the mother died. The mother, who had nurtured and protected him, died. The man stood at her grave as they lowered the coffin and tried to cry, but no tears came.

The man's father lived to a very extended old age and withered away and died when the son was in his fifties. At the father's funeral, much to the son's surprise, he could not control his tears. Wailing, sobbing....he was apparently inconsolable. Utterly lost. That was the story Kritzinger told me.

What was it about the story that the listeners didn't understand?

The man had been driven his whole life by hatred of his father. When his mother died, that was a loss, but when his father died and the hate had lost its object, the man's life was completely empty.

That was the message. That was the warning given in the story.

Do not let hate fill your lives so much that, when it is gone, you have nothing left to live for.

Where do you get squirrel-flavored cake at this hour?

2012-01-28T12:16:00.000-06:00

Today's post is going to be very short because I have two birthdays to celebrate today. And, as anyone who's had to organize birthdays for a 3-year-old and a 5-year-old will know, it takes a lot of time.

Fortunately, though, these two celebrants aren't going to mind that there are no decorations, cakes, or overly-expensive presents with which they'll never play.

I'm sending Happy Birthday wishes to Harley and Celeste, my pet and service dog respectively. I know Celeste's birthdate because of the papers that came with her since she's an AKC registered dog. Harley is a shelter rescue and we can only estimate when she was born based on her age the vet gave us when we adopted her. So, why not have them share a special day? Makes it easier on us owners who have a lot of dates to remember!

Happy birthday to them both! They're both two of the best dogs I've ever had in my life and I'm very thankful they're here.

I have a stupidphone and I'm not afraid to use it!

2012-01-27T21:50:00.000-06:00

I was sitting here staring at the screen just begging my brain to come up with something worth blogging about. Husband suggested politics. I quickly shot that down because everyone's blogging about it. Youngest Son said I should write about not being able to think of a subject. I've already done that one this month. And then, it happened.

The "incoming message" tone on my cellphone rang. I looked at the screen and saw that it was from Biological Mother. I opened the message and there was a teeny-tiny photo of some sort that even if I had 20/20 vision I'd still not be able to see it. I sent a message back to her stating that I couldn't see the photo and reminding her that my cellphone isn't like hers. She replied that it was a photo from PeopleOfWalmart.com and that she thought my phone could show any photo she sent. I had to text her back to explain (for the I-don't-know-how-many-th time) that my phone doesn't work like hers and I can see photos she takes and sends but not something forwarded from the Internet. I sat my cellphone down and started to get comfy on the couch before it rang and vibrated again -- only to show her incoming message of "OK."

Gah!!! I hate that!!! I really used to hate that when I had to pay for every message I sent or received and she would send "OK" or "K" after anything I texted to her. I would tell her that her little ending notes were costing me money, but she'd only remember that for a few minutes and I'd get tons more messages. When we had a horrendous ice storm in January 2009, we lost power and in order to save our batteries I sent a text to family members that we were fine and would only call or text if something important happened. I lost track of the number of texts Biological Mother sent asking questions about things that didn't mean diddly-squat when we were trying to keep ourselves from freezing.

And she's not the only one in my family who does that. Half-Sister does it too. She and our mutual mother have a thing about wanting to send stuff by text. As a matter of fact, while I've been trying to type this far into this post, Half-Sister has already attempted to forward the same thing to me.

Both of them have smartphones. You know what those are, right? The cellphones that can do all of the neat photos and videos. They run applications that are useful, entertaining, and occasionally both. People have been known to line-up outside of stores for days or weeks waiting for the latest and greatest to be released. Some even now will talk back to you if you ask it a question. I guess that's good for those who are too enamored by their techno-gadgets to have relationships with real people. And Biological Mother and Half-Sister have both, at one time or another, offered to "give" me one of theirs that was being replaced by a newer model.

I have a stupidphone. You've probably never heard of one of those. Actually, if you've ever had a cellphone prior to the days of touchscreens and voice recognition, you've had a stupidphone too. These are the ones that allow their owners to place calls, take a photo, or even send a text message. But not all at the same time and certainly not with any great fanfare about it. I do not have an unlimited data plan or worry about how many bits/bytes of memory I've sent over the airwaves each month because I can't do those things. I have unlimited texting, but that's because it's a family plan and when you have Youngest Son receiving messages from his friends who also cannot remember that you have to pay for every message, it gets expensive.

Another reason I have a stupidphone is because I can think of many, MANY other things I'd rather spend my hard-earned cash on instead of a piece of plastic that will scratch or break easily and the "privilege" of using it by paying outrageous phone charges along with the basic plan and taxes. I don't Titterbook or Fweet on my phone and as a serious sufferer of ADD, I don't need something like that distracting me.

I'm not a technophobe. I try to stay as up-to-date as I can. But I'm not going to bankrupt myself and my family to fling birds across a screen.

Now that I've spent over an hour trying to type this while still having to send texts back to the two of them explaining why my phone doesn't do what theirs does, I'm going to end my post, put my phone back on the charger, and maybe watch a movie or two. It's Friday night -- gotta have some fun sometime!

Persistant Portal Preoccupation

2012-01-26T19:52:00.000-06:00

What is it about video games that make grownups want to sit for hours and "prove" their mastery of what five-year-olds can do with little thought?

I've already posted about my love of Lego-branded video games. But Youngest Son wanted a special game for the holidays. One that has become a part of today's pop culture that you've either played it and get all the jokes or you have no idea about what everyone is blithering. People have begun to decorate their houses, cars, and even themselves in the new meme. It took me a while to find the game because he wasn't sure how to locate the original game that has everyone raving about the sequel. And now, I'm addicted.

Portal. Little red/orange and blue circles. Why are they so intriguing??

I did the research and found that the original Portal game came out in The Orange Box along with two other games that most people played until they tried Portal and then totally forgot about them. I didn't know that at first and had been searching everywhere for a stand-alone game that didn't exist. When I happened to stumble upon the needed game for the PlayStation 3, I made sure to snatch it as quickly as I could. And then I went back and paid for it.

I gave Youngest Son the game because I knew he'd need to be familiar with it before I could purchase the game he really wanted. I sat and watched him figure out the puzzles and followed the storyline. It was cute and I figured if he could do it, so could I.

What took him just a few days to complete took me well over a week. The game actually requires you to use concepts of physics and critical thinking to solve the puzzles. I took physics. I did pretty well in the class. I consider myself very intelligent. And I have no idea how even after watching the puzzles being solved I would get really confused on where to go or what to do. Simple tasks seemed to be the most challenging and I had to remind myself to "think smarter, not harder" throughout the game. I was determined to finish it and finally did....with help from Youngest Son.

So when the holidays came along I was ready to give Youngest Son the present he'd been hoping for all year. Portal 2. The sequel. A bigger storyline and even cooperative play ability in multiplayer-mode. Famous guest stars doing voiceovers of new characters that help expand the Portal universe and make it even more fun to play.

Youngest Son was beside himself with joy and promptly began playing. Within less than a week, he was finished and then began again in order to win all of the trophies. And as of this moment, I've forgotten how many times he's replayed the story mode. I've only been able to finish it once all the way through and there are many trophies that I should have easily obtained but for the life of me I can't figure out. Sure, I could go online and look for cheats and walkthrough but I should be able to figure it out on my own.

Every site I went to told me the same information and I analyzed the videos of "professionals" playing the game and tried to copy their moves. Still I haven't been able to complete them all. But I refuse to give-up. Sooner or later, I'll have those trophies and I'll even try to earn all of the cooperative play trophies. I've got to get to 100% finished. It's a goal -- not a major goal, but a goal just the same.

We have strict rules in the house about how much time the kids are allowed to play video games. If we didn't, I know that Eldest Son would have never finished any homework in high school and Youngest Son would only be able to speak like the villans in Crash Bandicoot. Each child is given one hour per day if all homework, instrument practice, and chores are completed. Even with these limitations, both were always able to speed through every game they bought.

What is it that makes it so easy for them? Here's my theory -- they don't care.

Being kids who've grown up in a world saturated with computers, electronic gizmos, and made-up characters they're able to disconnect from the character and attempt the impossible jumps and dash through dangerous puzzles without a second thought. Adults, who didn't have the luxury of video games and had to actually interact with others while using their imagination when playing, subconsciously become "attached" to the character as if it's an extension of themselves and aren't so willing to take chances.

Does this have any impact on the future of our world? I have no idea. It's just a theory I have and I've not had time or desire to absolutely test it. I'm sure there are scientists somewhere that have begun a full-scale experiment based on this theory and are preparing their dissertations as we speak.

All I know is that for now I need to be able to move through those colored rings without firing the wrong color and ending up bashing my character against a wall again.

Discovery's "Combat Cash" goes MIA tonight.

2012-01-25T19:51:00.000-06:00

It's Wednesday and I settled in for an interesting evening. Two weeks ago this blog lit up after I said that Discovery's Combat Cash was awful. That's not exactly what I said, but you can go back and read the original post for yourself.

I looked up when it would be on again and found that today was the next air date. TV Guide said that I'd have to be ready to watch at 7 p.m. Central Standard Time. Here are the descriptions of the episodes:

7 p.m. - Real GI Joe; 1795 Springfield Musket: A 1795 Springfield musket is test fired; a rare GI Joe is sold; the guys meet a helicopter crew from the Vietnam War. New (CC)

7:30 p.m. - Hellcat Ammo; Flamethrowers: Flamethrowers from WWII and the Vietnam War are used for a photo shoot; the guys search for ammo for a Hellcat tank. New (CC)

I started flipping channels to find something to watch until 7 p.m. and switched to Discovery a few minutes early so I could get settled-in with a snack. The show advertised above as the 7 p.m. episode was ending! What's up with that??

So, I went to Discovery's website and pulled-up the schedule for tonight. Here's what they advertised (times are Eastern Standard Time):

7 p.m. - Hellcat Ammo/Flamethrowers TV-PG; Bob and Owen roll up their sleeves to search for WWII-era ammunition for a Hellcat tank. The owner offers them the bonus of getting to fire off some live rounds. Then the guys light up a special photo shoot with WWII and Vietnam War-era flamethrowers.

7:30 p.m. - Real GI Joe/1795 Springfield Musket TV-PG; Vintage Productions owner Bob and partner Owen connect passionate collectors with rare military items. They sell a very rare GI Joe and test fire a 1795 Springfield musket. But it's their job for a Vietnam-era Huey helicopter crew that really strikes home.

I did get to see the guys test fire the Springfield musket and the video of the new owner placing it in his customized display which, when the musket is inserted, looks like a "life-sized" Combat Infantry Badge. That's actually pretty awesome. A neat idea for displaying a nice firearm.

But that's all I got to see! TV Guide and the satellite guide say one thing; Discovery says something else. TV Guide and the satellite say the episodes will rerun at midnight Central Standard Time. Discovery says they'll rerun at 1:30 a.m., 2 a.m., and 2:30 a.m. tomorrow morning, January 26th.

I don't know about everyone else, but I do enjoy sleeping. It's one of my favorite activities. And I function a LOT better when I have an average amount of it each day. I'm not staying up until "0-Christ-Hundred" to watch a show that may or may not be worth watching.

So what's up, Discovery?? I've already been getting emails and question from friends/family if maybe the episodes weren't aired when they were advertised because they didn't want me to see it again. While that's flattering, I don't believe my blog post would cause a full-scale schedule makeover. But I still don't understand why Discovery would change its schedule when it's already been printed and programmed for one time and decide to air the episodes when people are not usually watching Discovery. Do they want it to fail now? Are they hoping only the diehard militaria fans will stay-up to watch it? Do they hope that those who are usually up at those times will "appreciate" the show more than those who made sure their schedules were open to watch at the advertised times?

Shame on you, Discovery. Shame, shame, shame. I was actually looking forward to watching the episodes -- and not just to be snarky about them. I wanted to see if there was any improvement from the first two episodes and be able to comment positively on that. I have no idea why anyone would want WWII-era ammunition for a Hellcat, so not having seen the episode I can only imagine that it's an idiotic reason since ammunition does become unstable over time, but I don't know and I'm not going to speculate.

I'll wait and see if new episodes are forthcoming, but I'm beginning to seriously doubt it. Especially since there's an article on Discovery's website saying "Combat Cash Finale" and dated today (January 25, 2012).

Oh well....at least I've got time to watch something else, and it sure as heck isn't going to be Sons of Guns that they've decided to show in the scheduled time slot for Combat Cash. If you thought I didn't like Combat Cash, you don't want to go into the deep waters of Sons of Guns. Trust me.

What you missed while not watching the Florida GOP Debate - reprinted

2012-01-24T12:35:00.001-06:00

I am very much against plagiarism. I would never pass off someone's work as my own. That's why today, while I'm trying to ice-down my head in hopes of relieving a migraine, I am reprinting this FABULOUS article by Michael Scherer from Time.com. It's everything I would have written had I been able to keep as detailed notes or give as much of a crap about what did and didn't go on in last night's debate. Let's face it -- they're no longer debates and never were. I only wish I could run a major political debate -- they'd all be standing onstage and Rule 1 would be that if they start campaigning instead of answering my "Yes or No" question, their microphone would be cut and no one could hear them. Rule 2 would be that if they did it again, they'd be dropped through the floor to not return to the rest of the debate. I know I'd stay up to watch reruns of that debate!

Anyway, here's Mr. Scherer's article and I certainly hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

0 minutes. TV Guide lists a new episode of Fear Factor at 9 p.m. on NBC. It's called "Leaches & Shaved Heads & Tear Gas, Oh My! Part 1." And yet, as the hour strikes, the screen shows another patriotic montage, this time from Tampa, Florida, introducing the 18th Republican debate. The NFL plays a 16-game regular season. There are nine circles of hell. God got it done in six days. But democracy is unrelenting, a bit like Joe Rogan, with less forced regurgitation and fewer critter challenges. Which is to say, Fear Factor has been preempted. A fearful nation takes its place.

2 minutes. Blue gels on the audience again, like Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, except there will be no "dum-dum-dum," at least as sound effects. Brian Williams, the handsomest man to have never been a movie star, is not wasting any time. He lists a lot of bad stuff former Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney has been saying about former House Speaker Newt Gingrich. "Erratic, failed leader," it goes on. "Your response tonight Mr. Speaker?"

3 minutes. Gingrich responds by reciting his resume, with extra emphasis on confusing historical analogies that only he knows. He says Reagan carried "more states than Herbert Hoover carried -- than Roosevelt carried against Herbert Hoover." As is often the case with Gingrich, his words form a shield. By the time he gets to, "they're not sending somebody to Washington to manage the decay," it's impossible to remember what was asked.

4 minutes. A wide shot shows Romney standing there, next to Gingrich, with his right hand hanging at his side, ready to draw. But dapper Williams tries again with Gingrich, which allows the speaker to continue taking credit for everything good that happened during his decades in the House. "When I was speaker, we had four consecutive balanced budgets, the only time in your lifetime, Brian, that we've had four consecutive balanced budgets." This is not true. The four years of surplus ran through 2001. Gingrich resigned from office in 1999. Newt gets two out of four. If this were a history class, he would fail.

5 minutes. Romney gets his chance. "I think it's about leadership," he says, "and the speaker was given an opportunity to be the leader of our party in 1994. And at the end of four years, he had to resign in disgrace." This is the same Mitt Romney who said in the last debate that he wished he had spent more time attacking President Obama, and less time attacking his rivals. Romney calls Gingrich an "influence peddler," says he encouraged cap and trade and called Paul Ryan's budget plan "social engineering."

6 minutes. Gingrich, doing his best imitation of Romney, from when Romney was the frontrunner, acts like he is too big a deal to worry about the criticism. "Well, look, I'm not going to spend the evening trying to chase Governor Romney's misinformation," he says, adding that he would rather be attacking Obama. "I just think this is the worst kind of trivial politics."

8 minutes. Williams still looks like every 1940s radio drama detective sounded. He asks Romney whether he can appeal to conservatives. Romney says he does, and pivots. "Let's go back to what the Speaker mentioned with regards to leadership," Romney says. He notes that Gingrich was the first speaker in history to resign. "I don't think we can possibly retake the White House if the person who's leading our party is the person who was working for the chief lobbyist of Freddie Mac," he adds.

9 minutes. Romney says almost exactly what Gingrich said after Iowa: That the last election taught him he can't sit back. He has to go on offense. "I had incoming from all directions, was overwhelmed with a lot of attacks. And I'm not going to sit back and get attacked day in and day out without returning fire," Romney says. The two men have traded strategies since South Carolina. Or traded bodies. Gingrich is now aloof and focused on the general. Romney is trying to muddy the field.

10 minutes. Gingrich returns fire with a couple of zingers: "He may have been a good financier," he says of Romney. "He's a terrible historian." So is Gingrich (See minute 4). Then Gingrich proceeds to respond to a lot of stuff he just said he would not waste his time talking about. He tells a rosy version of his fall from the atop the U.S. House that would not please his fellow historians. "Apparently your consultants aren't very good historians," Gingrich tells Romney. "What you ought to do is stop and look at the facts." The intellectual insult. A classic Gingrich move. Like I-know-you-are-but-what-am-I?

11 minutes. Debonair Williams, he of the slender face and half-Windsor knot, throws it to former Pennsylvania Sen. Rick Santorum, who has apparently been standing on stage this entire time. How, asks Williams, is Santorum going to actually win? Santorum hits his stump speech, saying he is positive, and that this is not a two person race.

14 minutes. There is actually a fourth person on stage as well. Texas Rep. Ron Paul gets a question that is basically this: You have no chance of winning, you said you don't envision yourself in the Oval Office, so will you run as a third-party candidate? Paul says he has been winning the under-30 vote, and otherwise doing "pretty darned well." Then he calls the historian on his rosy history about giving up the speaker's gavel. "This idea that he voluntarily reneged and he was going to punish himself because we didn't do well in the election, that's just not the way it was." True that. Then Paul says, once again, that he has "no plans" to go third party.

17 minutes. Gingrich gets a question about Paul. Gingrich praises Paul for his criticism of the Federal Reserve and desire for a "gold commission," which is nothing like a blue-ribbon panel. It would study bringing back gold as currency.

18 minutes. Romney says he will release his tax returns for two years on Wednesday morning. But again he gets tongue tied. Rich people don't like to talk about their own money. It is impolite. So Romney says, "The real question is not so much my taxes, but the taxes of the American people." Suddenly, out of nowhere, Romney, who previously opposed any debt compromise that raised any taxes, is praising the Bowles-Simpson plan, which raises tax revenues by nearly $1 trillion. But Romney doesn't talk about the deficit part. He talks about the cutting marginal rates part, which by itself would make the debt problem worse. He chastises Obama for having "simply brushed aside" the Bowles-Simpson recommendations, in much the same way that Romney did previously.

20 minutes. More discomfort, as Romney is asked again to talk about his money. "I pay all the taxes that are legally required and not a dollar more," he says. "I don't think you want someone as the candidate for president who pays more taxes than he owes." Now that is settled.

21 minutes. Gingrich tries to needle Romney by saying he wants everyone to enjoy Romney's 15 percent tax rate. Romney points out that under the Gingrich tax plan, investment gains would be taxed at zero. "Under that plan, I'd have paid no taxes in the last two years," Romney says. This is true. It is the reason Gingrich's policies are better for wealthy financiers than Romney's policies. Romney would keep his own tax rate on investments at 15%.

22 minutes. More awkward talk about Romney's wealth. "I will not apologize for having been successful. I did not inherit what my wife and I have, nor did she. What we have, what I was able to build, I built the old-fashioned way, by earning it," he says. This is true, if you discount the fact that his father's money helped to put Romney through college (Bringham Young, Stanford) and joint degrees at Harvard (Law, Business).

25 minutes. Now it's time to talk about what lobbying means. Gingrich worked for lobbyists at Freddie Mac, a quasi-government agency that conservatives despise. He also took lots of money from health care companies, while at the same time writing articles and giving talks that furthered those company's agendas in Congress. But technically none of it was "lobbying," which is a legal term of art. Williams asks the right question, by avoiding the L-word. "You never peddled influence, as Governor Romney accused you of tonight?" Gingrich can't answer. "You know, there is a point in the process where it gets unnecessarily personal and nasty," he says, before avoiding the question by saying he never lobbied.

28 minutes. Romney and Gingrich go at it. Romney accuses Gingrich of profiting from an organization that destroyed the housing market in Florida. Gingrich tries to compare his consulting work for lobbyists with Romney's consulting work for corporations. "Wait a second, wait a second," protests Gingrich at one point, after Romney admits that his firm made money too. "We didn't do any work with the government. I didn't have an office on K Street," Romney says. It goes on.

33 minutes. Never-a-bad-hair-day Williams cuts them off and goes to commercial break.

36 minutes. We're back, with charity time for the other two candidates on stage who have not had much time to talk. Paul and Santorum talk about the housing market and say nothing new. Then Romney says he wants to help homeowners too. And Gingrich says he wants to repeal Dodd-Frank, the banking regulation bill, because of its effect on smaller banks. Romney agrees.

43 minutes. Cuban question: "Let's say President Romney gets that phone call, and it is to say that Fidel Castro has died. And there are credible people in the Pentagon who predict upwards of half a million Cubans may take that as a cue to come to the United States. What do you do?" The premise is a stretch, since Fidel has already ceded most government control to his brother, Raul. Romney tries to make a joke about how Fidel is a bad guy. "First of all, you thank heavens that Fidel Castro has returned to his maker and will be sent to another land," he says.

44 minutes. Gingrich retells the joke, but gets the punchline right. "Well, Brian, first of all, I guess the only thing I would suggest is I don't think that Fidel is going to meet his maker. I think he's going to go to the other place," he says. Fidel in hell jokes must poll really well in Miami. Then Gingrich says he would authorize "covert operations" to overthrow the Castro regime.

46 minutes. "I would do pretty much the opposite," says Paul.

47 minutes. Having stirred up the Cuban pot, Williams now accuses the candidates of pandering for votes. Why don't they care as much about Chinese dissidents and embargo China? Santorum says China is not 90 miles off the coast.

49 minutes. Iran time. Romney criticizes Obama, "We ought to have and aircraft carrier in the Gulf." Nevermind that the USS Abraham Lincoln is there right now. Gingrich picks up where Romney left off. "Dictatorships respond to strength, they don't respond to weakness," he says. The same can be said of Republican primary voters.

52 minutes. Romney tears into Obama on Afghanistan, saying the president should not have reduced troops so much, allowed elections to go bad or announced withdrawal date.

53 minutes. Paul pretty much has the opposite view.

54 minutes. Another break. "I'll welcome two colleagues out here to the stage when we continue from Tampa right after this," says Williams. Hope for Joe Rogan and Donald Trump. Or Alec Baldwin and Tina Fey.

58 minutes. We're back. It's National Journal's Beth Reinhard and the Tampa Bay Times' Adam Smith. After Santorum gets a chance to talk about the evils of Iran, he is asked about offshore drilling. Santorum said the economy in Florida went bad in 2008 "because of a huge spike in oil prices," which is like saying people watch Fear Factor to see Joe Rogan.

62 minutes. Reinhard asks a great question: How can the candidates be against bilingual balloting, even as they advertise in Spanish to Hispanics? Gingrich and Romney don't really have answers. So they dance around the edges. Everyone on stage is against multi-lingual education, except Paul who doesn't mind if states do whatever they want.

66 minutes. Immigration time. Same as before, except Gingrich makes clear that he would support a path to citizenship for illegal immigrants who serve in the military. Romney agrees. Then Romney says of other undocumented immigrants, "Well, the answer is self-deportation, which is people decide they can do better by going home because they can't find work here because they don't have legal documentation to allow them to work here." Self-deportation is one of those neologisms that gets added to dictionary at the end of the year. Sign of the times.

70 minutes. Questions about sugar subsidies. Gingrich says you can't beat the sugar lobby, because "cane sugar hides behind beet sugar," and there are "just too many beet sugar districts in the United States." Surely someone can work that into a Haiku.

71 minutes. Romney says he is against all subsidies. Then he pivots into a long rant about the awfulness of President Obama. It is telling that it has taken Romney 71 minutes to get into this rant on Obama. South Carolina has transformed him as a candidate.

72 minutes. Paul is asked is he supports federal funding for conservation of the everglades. Paul lets down his strict libertarian guard to pander for Florida votes. "I don't see any reason to go after that," he says.

73 minutes. Another break. Things are speeding up.

77 minutes. Some talk about Terri Schiavo, a woman in a vegetative state who became a cause celeb for conservatives in 2005. The answers are inconsequential.

81 minutes. Space cadet time. No, really. Romney says Obama has no space plan, and America needs a space plan. Gingrich gets asked about going to Mars. He says he wants a "leaner NASA," but then lists off a terribly expensive list of goals: "Going back to the moon permanently, getting to Mars as rapidly as possible, building a series of space stations and developing commercial space." At least something new is happening. First time in 18 debates that anyone has talked about Mars.

84 minutes. Gingrich is asked why the Bush tax cuts in early 2000s did not create a lot of jobs. His answer is priceless. He channels Obama, seemingly unaware of the irony. "In 2002 and '03 and '04, we'd have been in much worse shape without the Bush tax cuts," he says. That's what Obama says about the stimulus bill. Both are basically right, though neither would give the other credit.

85 minutes. Last break. Almost there. Actually scratch that. You will never get there. When this debate ends, there will be another. The next one is Thursday. No joke.

90 minutes. We're back. Romney is asked what he has done to further the cause of conservatism. He is sort of stumped. Talks about his family, his work in the private sector, neither of which is all that ideological.

92 minutes. Gingrich talks about how he went to Goldwater meetings in 1964, when he would have turned 21.

93 minutes. Santorum is asked about electability. Suddenly he comes alive. It's the best moment of any of his debates. Yet few will ever notice, and it will almost certainly not matter. He makes the case that he is the only true conservative who can take on Obama, and that both Romney and Gingrich are fundamentally flawed because they are too close to the political positions of Obama. "There is no difference between President Obama and these two gentlemen," Santorum says. This is not true, if you were wondering.

95 minutes. Paul talks about the constitution.

97 minutes. Romney talks about RomneyCare and ObamaCare.

98 minutes. Gingrich says, "I never ask anyone to be for me. Because if they are for me, they vote yes and go home and say, I sure hope Newt does it. I ask people to be with me, because I think this will be a very hard, very difficult journey." No doubt.

99 minutes. Romney, who talks all the time about "restoring American greatness," is asked when America was last great. "America still is great," Romney says, thus undercutting the meaning of his signature campaign message.

101 minutes. That's it. See you Thursday.

Up to my eyeballs in auditions!

2012-01-23T19:39:00.000-06:00

Sorry folks but there won't be a long post tonight. Our local Community Theatre is getting ready for a new production and tonight was audition night.

I was there as the technical director looking over the hopefuls because there's a lot of special makeup and costume notes that needed to be made. I wanted to be sure to have a good idea of the folks we were considering before I start sketching out anything. I loved majoring in theatre in college and still really enjoy working on any theatrical production I can get going. It's going to be a fun show and we've only got until the beginning of March to make it happen!

So, sorry again! But I'm sure something will be getting me on a rant or a remembrance soon. Heck, a new episode of Hoarders is coming on and that's always good to go!

Rednecks with money equals "American Stuffers"

2012-01-22T14:23:00.000-06:00

And just when you think you've about seen it all on television, along comes something else that makes you wonder, "Who comes up with this stuff?"

Now, I must confess that I like a lot of different shows. I don't like soap operas (daytime or nighttime) and I certainly don't like most sitcoms. The majority of the time you'll find my television tuned to History (even though they really don't show many historical shows anymore), Discovery (absolutely love Mythbusters and Dirty Jobs), Science Channel (I really would love to own a store like Oddities and the things they find are awesome), or BBC America (Top Gear, Doctor Who -- just a small sampling of the British shows I love). If I can find something educational I'll be more than happy to watch it over any tarted-up "reality show" where every other word has to be bleeped. I used to enjoy Hell's Kitchen but you can only listen to someone be so BLEEPingly BLEEP BLEEP without it getting really old.

So last night I sat down to surf the zillion channels available on satellite in the hopes of finding something, anything, worth watching. Occasionally I'll tune-in to Animal Planet. I like their shows Dogs 101 and Cats 101 and occasionally they have a few others that might hold my interest. I'd watch some of the animal rescue shows but then I'd just get upset seeing how people mistreat their pets and be in a crappy mood for the rest of the day. And don't get me started on Animal Hoarders -- we can't even have that show on because Youngest Son gets so angry at the people and cries when he sees the animals that can't be saved.

Suddenly, a show started from which I could just not look away. It wasn't in a "that's so incredibly awesome" sort of enrapturement as a "really bad car accident" kind of not being able to look away. Their new show was starting -- American Stuffers.

Now, if you've not heard of this show yet, I'd suggest you sit down before continuing because it is certainly not like any other reality show on television. The Ross family of Romance, Arkansas, owns and runs Xtreme Taxidermy. And when I say "family" I mean ALL of them. Mrs. Ross is a school teacher, but Mr. Ross and their three sons get very hands-on with the preparation of animals to be stuffed. There are also two other employees of the shop (one that showed-up one day with a roadkill deer on the back of his moped) and a veterinary student intern named Dixie who gets incredibly grossed-out by dead animals or the idea of having to touch them. I think she needs to rethink her major!

Other than the standard taxidermy that is performed in their little shop north of Little Rock, Xtreme Taxidermy specializes in a very odd form of preservation. They taxidermy pets. And they don't just skin them and put them on mounts like you do your prized deer or moose head. The pets are freeze-dried so that they'll last forever.

I'd already heard of freeze-drying animals, especially in the scientific community where specimens could be preserved. If you had a two-headed pig or a set of conjoined lambs that didn't survive, you could have a scientific group prepare them by freeze-drying so that they could be used in the classroom to explain biological anomalies. Seeing a real, three-dimensional representation is much easier to learn from than a photo in a textbook or just trying to take someone's word for it.

But pets? Yes, there are pet cemeteries all around the United States where people pay a lot of money for their pets to be buried in elaborate caskets with ornate headstones. I have Cody, my previous service dog, buried in the back yard with a plaque over the site. The only reason we buried him is because we couldn't do what we normally do when a pet dies -- have them cremated. No one in our area does that. But in the past when a pet has finally gone to wait at the Rainbow Bridge, we've taken their body to the vet's office to have them cremated and then sprinkled their ashes in places they loved to play or just lay in the sun in the backyard. I had considered getting an urn to keep Cody's ashes if we could have had him cremated, but it just wasn't to be.

I totally understand how people are so attached to their pets. Anyone who tries to brush-away your grieving by saying, "It was just a dog/cat/hamster/rabbit/etc." has no idea how much a part of the family they become. True, I can get another dog/cat/hamster/rabbit/etc., but it's not going to be the same animal and it's still not going to fill the void the recently deceased has left. And don't get me started on those who are trying to clone dead pets....

But freeze-drying a pet? I love my pets and service dogs immensely, but I'm not so sure I'd want to have it staring at me for the rest of time. Or even if you get it done with its eyes closed, it's still going to be there and you can't hug and cuddle it like a live pet. Plus you have to dust it just like any other knick-knack in the house and heaven forbid you have company over and someone's toddler decides to play with it and snaps off a body part. Don't laugh at that -- there was an episode last night where after having a Chihuahua in their freezer for four years a family decided to have it freeze-dried along with another dog that had just recently passed away and their kid kept trying to play with them like dolls. Even Mr. Ross said it would be a miracle if they got home with them intact or if he didn't receive a phone call in the next two months because she'd snapped the head off of it.

Part of my family is from that northern-central/northeastern part of Arkansas. I grew up in the Bootheel of Missouri. We were rednecks and we knew it. When I got a job as a newspaper editor in one of the "hill-country" counties just north of "Southeast Missouri-proper," I knew I was a redneck. They were hillbillies and darned proud of it. They couldn't understand me and vice versa. It was almost a Deliverance-like experience that has shaped (and scarred) my life forever. So when I watched the show, I understood their accents (even the one shop employee whom the network thought needed subtitles to understand), and I understood that hunting wild hogs or picking up a road-kill deer wasn't something considered out of the ordinary. Seeing a young girl coming into their shop to claim her oven-dried hog skull from her first kill didn't faze me a bit. Husband, however, was laughing himself silly because nothing seemed to shock me or appear disturbing in my opinion.

And then the lady with the racoon appeared. I've had friends that have had all sorts of weird pets. And, yes, I've seen the horrible tourist-trap taxidermies that have been done like the lizards that are supposed to be a mariachi band or the snakes posed as if they're going to strike. And, yes, I've even seen the ever-famous jackalopes. But I've never known anyone to keep a racoon as a pet. Those things are mean. Really mean -- as in "eat your neighbor's small dogs or cats" mean. This lady had a 40-pound racoon that she'd raised as a pet that had, sadly, become roadkill. She wanted it mounted so she could always remember it. I guess the large photo album she brought with her wasn't enough.

When Mr. Ross went to the lady's single-wide trailer to deliver the mount, she proudly showed the places where the racoon had chewed through cabinets and left a path of destruction through the home. Of course it did! It's a wild animal! But instead of spending money to repair or replace the damages, she gets the animal stuffed. This is the part of the show where I've got issues.

I don't want to assume bad things about anyone. And I certainly have had my time (and probably will many additional times) where I couldn't really afford to have or do the things I wanted and hard choices had to be made. And when you've grown-up in that environment and in an area where it's very prevalent, you try to remember where your priorities are. Sure, an income tax refund seems like something that needs to be spent immediately -- but I'm not freeze-drying a pet with it!

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I've not been so traumatized by a pet's death that I need to have it's freeze-dried carcass taking up precious floor or shelf space and having it stare at me. I had major surgery once and Youngest Son bought me a toy owl that had huge plastic eyes that I had to turn the thing away from me at night because it looked as if it was staring into my soul. I certainly don't want that from a 40-pound-or-more animal glaring at me. And if it's eyes are closed, then what's the point of "having the pet there" where you can "interact" with it (as many of the customers said)?

I like the fact that the show is family-friendly and probably the harshest word you'll hear would be "darn." But I do have to agree with Mrs. Ross -- you bake hog skulls in my good oven and you're gonna hear about it!

Four-legged inspiration for today

2012-01-21T12:37:00.000-06:00

Here I sit, another blank blog page in front of me with nothing of quality to write about. Oh, I could go on-and-on about my childhood or the political season and today's primary election in South Carolina. Or I could sit and poke a fork in my eye and probably feel better than writing about those topics.

Celeste is staring at me with her deep brown eyes -- the kind of eyes that you can get lost in and make people infer human emotions and thoughts onto their four-legged companions. And then she goes over to sniff the behind of Harley Quinn (our Schnoodle) and expects me to warmly welcome her back by allowing her to lick me on the face. Again she stares at me, looking as if she could say, "Mommy, hurry up and finish making those clicking noises on that thing that takes up so much of your time so we can take a nap on the couch together." Meanwhile, Harley -- whom I'm convinced is completely insane -- just looks at me as if this huge interloper who only joined our family last July (Harley's been around since 2009) has broken every rule in the house and should be the one left-behind when we go out.

Harley could have been a service dog and was adopted from the local Humane Society to be trained as one. My previous service dog, Cody (a Sheltie), was aging quickly and his health was very poor. Once Harley was added to the household, he began to perk-up and was even attempting to show her what she would and wouldn't be allowed to do in "his" house. Harley was basically a "nurse dog" for Cody -- licking his eyes and ears to help keep them clean, laying next to him when he'd fall asleep on the floor instead of his cushion, and was even there right beside him the day that he passed away. I used Cody as an example for Harley. I'd tell him to sit and he would. I'd praise him highly and then ask the same of Harley. She looked at me as if I'd just asked her to build a time machine and would walk away.

Cody was a "superdog" -- a phrase we use in our family for a dog that has fabulous talents and, yes, those human qualities that we shouldn't place on our dogs but we just can't help it. He was a puppy mill rescue. He'd been a breeder dog and had never known love or affection. Even toys baffled him. Roll a ball to any dog of most any age and they're going to go after it. Roll a ball to Cody and he looked at you as if to ask, "Why would you do that to me?" He never played catch; he never got into a tug-of-war; and he never tried to perform a trick or command for a treat. The only time he would ever jump on the bed was if it was storming outside. Not only could he jump up onto the bed but he could clear me and land right between Husband and me. But, if I forgot to take my medication or if I was having a panic attack, he was right there nudging me awake and looking at my purse where my meds are kept or laying on my chest to help me relax. He tried once to bring my purse to him, but the people who had him before me had so poorly taken care of him he didn't have many teeth left. Pulling with his gums was very uncomfortable yet he still tried every day.

So bringing in Harley was, I thought, a stroke of genius. She could see up-close-and-personal what was expected while hearing the commands and being able to be rewarded for properly completing them. Little did I know that when you have a dog with as much ADD as the owner, the dog isn't going to pay attention to crap. Actually, let me rephrase that -- because she did pay attention to crap. The cat's crap. And found it to be a delightful after-dinner dessert before trying to lick your face. That habit was broken VERY quickly!

But I thought that her being around a trained dog and having the structure of becoming trained as a service dog would help speed along the process. Schnoodles are Poodle/Schnauzer mixes. They're considered a "designer dog" and I felt very lucky to have found her at the pound and to give her a new lease on life. Poodles are very, very smart dogs and have hair instead of fur -- something that would be ideal for a family of asthmatics like mine. Schnauzers are terriers and are also supposed to be very intelligent with very little odor or shedding. Again, that was a big plus for us. And Harley showed every bit of the Poodle in her with the exception of the Schnauzer beard that no matter how you trimmed it still wanted to stand-out as a Schnauzer trait. I had hoped that it was the only stubborn part of the Schnauzer we'd gotten but I was wrong. So very wrong. As she got older the terrier part of her personality became very prominent. She to this day still growls and barks at every squirrel, bunny, or leaf that passes her view as if they're the largest threat ever to mankind and she's the only dog that knows it or can do something about it.

You can just say the word "squirrel" in our house and she'll bolt for the nearest window or door and begin to stand guard.

The more I worked with her, the more she tried to learn but just wasn't able to keep it all straight in her head. Plus, add a hyper dog to a person with anxiety and you've got a bad mix. She was very good at mimicking Cody by trying to lay on my lap or my chest to calm me down during moments of panic. What she wasn't good at doing was staying there until everything had passed. What was more likely to happen was she would be there for me to pet and try to calm down before she would jump off, growling loudly at something only she knew about which would then increase my anxiety even more because I'd become worried over something that I'd missed or that could actually be dangerous. I started freaking-out on my own over leaves tumbling down the driveway for no apparent reason!

Soon, the State of Missouri passed a law that only service dogs (and grandfathered service horses for the blind) would be recognized and that they had to be trained by an accredited and certified service animal trainer. That effectively put an end to my continuing to self-train Harley for the job I needed her to perform but certainly wasn't going to get. However, she was definitely assured her continued place in our household because once you've met her you can't forget her. She's hysterical and, as I said above, almost certainly insane. She's just the right size for cuddling and picks-up quickly on emotional changes of not just family members but also anyone she's around.

And if you recognized where we got the name "Harley Quinn," you'll understand that the insanity was aptly named before we ever encountered it.

So, I began my search for a service dog that would comply with the new State laws and was paired with Celeste. She had been trained very well and it took a week of training me to get me up to speed enough so that she'd realize that I was the new person in charge and that I had worth to her. That "worth" being food, water, shelter, and affection. That's another reason why I have "DO NOT PET" on her vest -- she needs to have her entire attention on me and if she gets lots of attention from others, why would she want to keep protecting me?

Celeste has tried to blend in with the family and not usurp much of Harley's "dominance" (for lack of a better word). However, when Harley has her bits of insanity and believes that a 30-pound dog can go toe-to-toe with an 85-pound dog in No-Holds Barred Hardwood Floor Rambunctious Roughhousing, Celeste is quick to put a paw on Harley's shoulders as if she could say, "Look squirt....you think you're big but you have NO idea what you're getting into and I'm gonna let you off easy even though you've been trying to bite at my ear for the past 10 minutes. How about you calm down and we'll all get along?" When that doesn't work, she just grabs her by the nape of the neck and moves her out-of-the-way. Celeste was raised in a pack and learned pack mentality. Harley was abandoned on the side of the road and we have no idea if she understands the standard pack pecking order. But she's learning it now.

While I've been typing this Harley has decided to come in and join the staring. They both are looking as if no one has ever, EVER in their lifetimes given them a pet or food or any attention whatsoever. They try to push my hands off the keyboard and, especially Harley, get into things they know they shouldn't but they also know will annoy the crap out of me and make me get up to see what they're doing. I guess I'll end today's post.

Plus, when they act like that it usually means they need to go "walkies" and that's a whole other adventure in itself.

70 years ago today, true evil was planned with drinks and laughter

2012-01-20T13:12:00.000-06:00

Friday, Friday, Friday. End of the "work week" for many. Beginning of the weekend for others. Me? It's just another cold, dreary day and I'm trying to think of something profound about which to blog.

Oh, as you may or may not have noticed, I've changed the look of the Blog. I got tired of the "pink" theme. When I started this thing I needed a layout that was simple and would help me ensure that every date had a prominent marker so I would know that I had remembered to keep up with my challenge. However, I am not a "pink" person. I hate pink. Unless it's a retina-burning flourescent pink, I don't want it. I can't stand having to pass the Barbie aisles in stores because of all of the pink. Even my dogs, both of whom are female, are like me -- tomboyish and no "froo-froo bows or ribbons" in our hair, especially if they're pink.

Since Friday itself doesn't have much importance to me today (at least, not yet), I decided to try to find something interesting about today's date -- January 20th. Usually people remember that it's Inauguration Day after we elect (or re-elect) our President every four years. It's also a date that has had a lot of controversy -- specifically in 1981 when just minutes after Ronald Reagan was inaugurated as our 40th president the hostages in Iran were suddenly freed. Debate still continues over who paid whom and how badly President Jimmy Carter had to be portrayed so that Reagan would win and the back-table dealings would get our people out of Iran. It was all so scripted and choreographed that many realized that something was rotten, and it wasn't in Denmark.

But if you want true evil at its utmost that occurred on January 20th, look back to 1942. On that day, 15 officials sat around a large table while drinking wine, smoking cigars, and enjoying the finest food. They were there to decide the fate of over six million lives and did so with such politeness and efficiency that was meticulously recorded, as only the Nazis could.

January 20, 1942 was the date of the Wannsee Conference.

Hitler's armies were freezing on the Eastern Front. He wanted his goal of a "true Aryan supremacy" to come to fruition, regardless of the cost. American troops had begun to join the fight in the West with the Allies and Germany had too many "undesirables" in their way. That's always a problem when you invade a country -- you have to do something with the population that was already there. They have needs and those needs must be met. But when your plan begins to suffer because of all the people standing in your way and you're as bat-crap crazy as Hitler was over world domination, you get someone else to take care of it.

Herman Goering, under Hitler's instructions, sent SS General Reinhard Heydrich to a manor house in a small suburb outside of Berlin to meet with SS Major Adolf Eichmann and other officials from Nazi ministries and organizations. By the end of the day, they had decided the "final solution" and went off to continue their lives and careers. The sole instruction given to them at that time was that a copy of the transcripts of the meeting (Nazis loved to keep notes about everything) would be distributed to each member present and that they were to be kept in the highest confidence. Fortunately for the Allies and the rest of the world, their obsessive-compulsive need to have everything documented along with the arrogance of one of the members present resulted in a single copy surviving. This copy of the minutes of the meeting and what was said and done in that room was used as key evidence during the Nazi war crimes trials.

If you've never seen the movie Conspiracy published by HBO Films and starring Kenneth Branagh, Stanley Tucci, and Colin Firth (among many other recognizable stars), then you should. To watch a reconstruction of the events based upon the surviving copy of the transcripts and what each person had to say, their reasonings behind it, and even the casualness with which the participants spoke and joked about "evacuating" undesirable persons is truly shocking. All of the ideas tossed around the table and debate between who should be the first to receive these "benefits" to their organization and seeing some having a moment of conscious realization about what they were actually discussing is very educational and disturbing. Even more disturbing is at the end of the movie when they show what happened to all of the participants. If I remember correctly, the last one to die did so in 1987 -- having never been convicted in this plot. As a matter of fact, you'll be stunned how many were never associated with the plans written that day and what they went on to do with their lives.

I have a penchant for movies that are historically accurate yet morbid and I can't quite explain why. Conspiracy is in my DVD collection along with Downfall -- the movie from which the Hitler rant that's become an Internet meme showing him upset over everything from why the Star Wars prequels were so awful to when Twitter crashed and even to Hitler finding out he's become an Internet meme and the decision by the corporation that owns the original film to remove all of the parodies from the Internet. I still want to find a DVD copy (with English subtitles) of The Chekist. I rented that movie once and watched it one evening with Husband. Let's just say it's not a movie to which you can eat popcorn. Or much of anything else. Watching the Soviet purges over and over will definitely keep this from ever being a suitable "date" movie.

Heck, I've decided that if I'm ever truly suicidal that all I'll need to do is watch The Chekist, Conspiracy, and Downfall in one sitting and I'll be begging to slit my own wrists.

So, there's your history lesson for the day. There might be a pop-quiz in the middle or at the end of the blog, so be sure to keep your notes. And definitely don't ever let anyone forget what plans happened on this date 70 years ago.

Brain still work good after no computer

2012-01-19T11:04:00.000-06:00

Well, 24 hours without the Internet and I'm still able to function normally. Not that I doubted I would -- I grew up in the time before computers were in everyone's homes. When computers were only for the government, military, and large corporation usage. There were no "apps." We didn't "post" unless you were building a fence or putting up a sign on a telephone pole. And no one in my area ever surfed -- that was reserved for the people on the coast who said "Dude!" a lot and we never could figure that part out either.

We would have conversations with friends and family members. If you were lucky to have television, you had three or four channels to watch until cable TV came along and even then there weren't that many added. I remember when we got HBO and we had to have a box on the top of our TV that had a switch you flipped to make HBO work. No switch, no movies. And you only got one HBO channel, not a bazillion like there are now and if you missed the movie when it was showing in your time zone you couldn't just wait around for the West Coast broadcast to watch it. But most of all, if you wanted to do something really outrageous like being a monster on some strange planet and having your friends there with you, you had to actually go outside and use your imagination. You had to physically be with your friends and you all played together. None of this sitting in front of a box with headphones on screaming at someone in a foreign country that you and your friends (who are in their respective homes and wearing headphones) are going to smash the crap out of them and their team of people sitting with headphones on in their respective residences. So much for "The Internet brings us 'together'."

The world did not come to an end. Politicians and celebrities are still doing and saying stupid things in the hopes of continuing their 15-minutes of fame. The sun still rises and sets. Ducks go "quack" and cows go "moo" and dogs go "woof" just like before.

So, today's post is going to be short because I've got a lot of catching-up to do. The sun is actually shining brightly outside and the dogs might like to go wallow in something rancid they previously deposited in the backyard (Why do they DO that??) and it would be a shame to waste a beautiful day in front of a computer screen. However, tomorrow is another day.....

Strike Against SOPA/PIPA!

2012-01-18T08:00:00.004-06:00

Sorry, but not only do I have an opthamologist appointment which makes trying to read and type with dialated eyes difficult, I'm also part of the Strike Against SOPA/PIPA movement.

You can learn more at http://sopastrike.com/strike/ and/or watch the video below. I'll be back on Thursday!

[vimeo http://www.vimeo.com/31100268 w=400&h=225]

PROTECT IP / SOPA Breaks The Internet from Fight for the Future on Vimeo.

Getting ready for the strike!

2012-01-17T11:39:00.000-06:00

Many people have been following the SOPA/PIPA anti-piracy bills that have been threatening to be passed in Congress recently. Even though the President "says" he's opposed to it and wouldn't sign a law like that, I still trust him and any other politician as far as I could throw them.

So, in solidarity with other organizations who believe that censorship on the Internet is a bad thing and that there's a better way to solve the issues, this blog will be joining-in the Stop SOPA/PIPA Strike. There will be information posted here where you can find out more about the movement and how to help.

Here's an article you can read today about what's going on and what websites you can expect to see blacked-out tomorrow: http://money.cnn.com/news/newsfeeds/gigaom/articles/2012_01_16_house_shelves_sopa_but_blackout_protests_continue.html

It might be the last time I can copy/paste a link like that. And, sure, it may not be the best article there is -- but it will do for now.

See y'all again on Thursday!

I have a dream -- that today you'll save money on a new living room set?

2012-01-16T14:37:00.000-06:00

What is it with the rampant consumerism that makes everyone believe that any Federal holiday would be the perfect time to have a sale? Martin Luther King Day (or, specifically this year, Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Birthday) was the last Federal holiday to be implemented. Yes, President George W. Bush issued a "national state of mourning" that has been called "Patriots' Day" every September since 2001, but it's not an official holiday. It wasn't until 2000 that MLK Day (as it's often abbreviated) was celebrated by all 50 states, even though the law declaring it an official Federal holiday was passed in 1986.

I remember being in school and not celebrating MLK Day. It's not that I didn't want to, it mostly was because the town in which I lived did not have many black people living there. Those who did live there sent their children to other school districts. When I went to elementary school, I was in a different school district where I was the minority and my pasty-white skin tone was a dead giveaway that I wasn't "from around there." So, when just before junior high (or middle school as they refer to it now) my family moved to a new school district, I was absolutely gobsmacked that everyone looked like me. Well, not exactly like me, but you get the idea. We were one of the whitest school districts around. I only knew of one student who was of African-American descent, and she was adopted by a rich caucasian family, so no one looked down upon her. Otherwise, I couldn't believe what my new classmates had to say about anyone of a different race. I remember asking once where the black students were and was laughed at as if my idea of attending school with "them" was in any way appropriate. I missed my black and white friends from my old school district. I also made myself a promise that I'd be sure my kids (if I ever had any) would understand that all are equal. A big step for a fifth-grader.

Eldest Son went to elementary school in a very diverse district where there were many students from many racial, cultural, and ethnic backgrounds. When a new job forced us to move away into a new area, I felt horrible because we'd moved into one of the most racist counties in our state. People there bragged about how anyone not "of the correct color" would be run-out of town and how their children weren't welcome in the school districts. While we were there, Youngest Son was born and a year later, we moved again. We moved back to my original "hometown" (I have a hard time claiming just one) where the racial mix was roughly even at that time. Both boys had friends of many different backgrounds and I was very pleased to see that they didn't pick up the bad habits of those who, in that very economically and intellectually depressed area, felt the Jim Crow laws should never have been abolished. It was hard at times trying to make sure that they kept their focus on equality for everyone instead of listening to the majority that steadily grew who didn't want "those people" in our town.

Now, Eldest Son is in college and making lots of friends with LOTS of different backgrounds. The town in which we live now isn't quite as diverse as where we were, but Youngest Son still remembers that he needs to treat everyone equally and his opinion changes only when someone does something against him first. I'd like to think I've done a pretty good job -- but my work isn't over.

So today we're all sitting at home enjoying some time together because (1) Husband is a Federal employee and all Federal offices are closed, (2) I'm not deployed away from home and even if I was I wouldn't be working on a Federal holiday, and (3) Youngest Son is out of school because the local school district commemorates MLK Day by closing the third Monday of every January. And every other commercial on the local channels is about how you can save money on a car or how a store has extended hours just for today's shopping convenience or even how celebrating this holiday will get you money off your breakfast/lunch/dinner. Where are the celebrations? Where are the parades?? A town west of here did have a commemorative march and a multicultural festival (which is a good thing since it is known for a horrible race crime in the early-1900s) to help people learn about the holiday, what it stands for, and why it's important to remember.

And don't get me started yet on the rest of the holidays that are treated as this one is. Actually, many of them are worse! But never fear, dear readers -- as they come up you'll be sure to get my opinions regarding them.

I sit and realize that the vast majority of students today who are enjoying the day off from school have no idea why the man being honored today has received the honor. I realize that the same majority don't even know who he was or why it's important to remember not just him but the entire movement and all of the historic changes that he, his followers/assistants and his ideas brought to our country. And just like the rest of the Federal holidays (with the exception of Thanksgiving and Christmas), they don't care. What a sad state of affairs it is.

It's the years....and the miles.

2012-01-15T16:28:00.000-06:00

They say "You're only as old as you feel." Well, "they" must be taking something and I want to know where to get some 'cause today I feel like I'm "hit-by-a-bus" years old.

I had a feeling this day would come. Actually, I knew it would -- I just never thought it would be this soon. I'm only 40 for cripes sake! There are guys out there older than me who are humping gear through the woods and enjoying every second of it. Then again, if you're not used to doing it every day, it can be a LOT harder than people think.

Just because you've beaten Medal of Honor, Call of Duty, or Brothers in Arms doesn't make you a reenactor.

Yesterday was the annual "Battle of the Bulge" reenactment at Camp Clark outside of Nevada, Missouri. There were reenactors from all around the midwest and some from even further away there for a day of fun and excitement. Husband and I (along with Celeste since she goes everywhere with me) drove in the wee hours of the morning with our weapons packed, our uniforms on, and lots of militaria to sell after the battles. We saw people we'd not seen in a year (since the last battle there), some we'd not seen in many years, and made a lot of new friends as well. We met people doing impressions of GIs, Heer, Waffen-SS, Foreign-SS troops, Spanish Blue Division, Italian, British, and Soviet forces. There were a lot of semi-automatic weapons there but we were lucky to have a few fully-automatic rifles and some that had been converted to fire propane so they'd sound as an automatic weapon should. Even the Soviets brought a "flamethrower" which squirted water out the end -- making it easy to show what had been ignited and who would be affected by it.

Everyone gathered for the safety and authenticity inspection. We have to have them because you can never be too careful where firearms are concerned. They checked to make sure all of the pyrotechnics (dummy grenades, etc.) were safe and approved and also examined everyone's weapons and blanks to ensure that nothing prohibited makes it onto the field. I've had a lot of people over the years ask me if we use blanks when we do our battles. I tell them that we use blanks because it's easier to keep having battles and recruiting new members, even if blank rounds are "inauthentic." Sadly, the sarcasm often passes by them.

After the inspection, the OICs (Officers in Charge) were told to form-up their units and prepare to move to the first scenario's launch point. Husband and I portray 35th Infantry Division, HQ MP Platoon members. We started years ago (Husband in the early 1980s; me in the early 1990s) as infantry and then changed to military police. We often will add in military intelligence to our repertoire if the battle coordinators need more varied units to help flesh-out the scenarios they've written. I, being a second lieutenant, automatically became the leader for the third squad of the second company. We fell into ranks and started to march to the launch point.

There was a bit of snow on the ground but we marched along on the asphalt road at a fairly good pace. The Soviets enjoyed riding their bikes past us and ringing their bells in fun. We waved and teased them about how they would have to make motorcycle noises in order to intimidate the Germans. We watched many of the Germans being transported by truck to their areas and began to wish we'd had that luxury. We continued to march and march and march. The first company consisted mostly of younger (18-to-mid-20-year old) reenactors who are military cadets and do this on a daily basis. Some of the older guys attached to their company said "Heck with that!" and sauntered along at a pace more suited for them.

Our company passed the remnants of the first company and continued to march. Soon, we began to slow down. A very short time later, my squad was going even slower than the rest of the company. Sadly, my stride isn't as long as my male counterparts' and I was basically running compared to their walking. I kept wondering, "When are we going to get there?" Usually, we move-out into the woods and the battle will start fairly quickly. Not this day. We were informed by our OIC that we had AT LEAST another half-mile to march before we'd reach our staging area.

Maybe in tennis shoes or sneakers I can wander a half-mile down a paved road. When the paved road turns to rough gravel with snow, it gets harder. But I didn't have my comfy shoes. Regardless, I wasn't going to stop and let the guys down. If they could do it, I could too. Oh, and did I mention that the bitter air aggravated my asthma?

Finally, we made it to the staging area. Our OIC began to deploy the unit along the area where we were supposed to defend. My squad was the flank....the end....the last stand against where the Germans and their allies would be attacking. We were going to be the WWII version of the 20th Maine at Gettysburg. Standing on a ridge, waiting for the enemy, but with more ammunition and better firepower. I turned to issue deployment orders to my squad.

The next thing I remember is hearing a lot of loud bangs and then being dragged into a ditch. In a brief second, Husband had done a test-fire of his submachine gun to ensure he had the right blank adapter installed so the weapon would cycle correctly. However, he failed to follow a standard safety procedure of announcing "Fire in the hole!" before starting so that people in the vicinity would be prepared for sudden close firing. Because I had not heard the announcement, I hadn't prepared Celeste and didn't have a tight grip on her lead which was slung over my shoulder and across my chest. When the noise spooked her, she immediately began to pull me towards the closest ditch for safety. Her lead cinched-up and tightened around my neck and left shoulder and, being an 85-pound dog, I was quickly knocked off my feet.

Years ago I broke my right knee while I was in college. I won't go into the details here, but I landed squarely on that knee on the large chunks of gravel used to pave the road for military vehicles, not foot traffic. She continued to pull until I was off the road and I felt like an idiot because I thought for sure the rest of the guys would have thought I was just a klutz (which is true at times). I calmed her down, readjusted her collars and lead, and proceeded to yell loudly at Husband for not following protocol. Then, I tried to get up.

I got about halfway up on my feet before my knee began to scream and basically decided it was going to defect from the rest of my body. I wasn't going anywhere fast. Celeste helped me brace myself and I finally was up and moving. It wasn't pretty, but I was moving under my own power.

Since Husband is a sergeant in my unit, I told him to go give my deployment orders to the rest of the squad. They'd already left to deploy near the area I wanted them, but it's a hobby and I wasn't going to nitpick over where they were standing since it would be quite a while before the advancing troops would be near us. Then the OIC said that because Husband and I were MPs, we were to walk BACK towards the bridge we'd crossed a while ago and ensure that no one came around the flank to take the bridge.

So, we wandered our way back to the bridge and began to look at the terrain. A very large, very deep, and very icy creek ran under the bridge and no reenactor in their right mind would try to cross it. However, since we know a few that aren't in their right minds (including us, we began to think), we waited at the bridge. A little while later a large group of Boy Scouts approached and, being in-character, I stopped them to ask what they were doing in our area. I directed them to stay on the road until they reached the next intersection where the OIC could give them their directions of where they could observe the battle. I wish they'd have told me before the battle that we were going to have visitors -- I've had experiences at other reenactment where "touristas" just show-up to watch uninvited and usually end up putting themselves in danger. Yes, we use blanks but people CAN be injured or killed by them.

We waited and waited and could hear the battle beginning in the distance. We didn't have radio or messenger contact with the rest of the unit. Hours passed, and no one came near us. Soon, we realized that the rest of the unit had moved even farther away and we'd been forgotten. I watched my knee swell even more and finally sat on the side of the road and decided I wasn't going to march anywhere else. Fortunately, the WWII ambulance that was to ferry people back-and-forth to the aid station arrived. Husband and I decided to call it a day and went back to the main building.

It would have been nice to be in the thick of the battle. With an M1 Carbine and a submachine gun, we could have helped lay a nice covering fire as our units advanced. I'd already decided that when they got to the "town battle" (a small area with shipping containers that had holes cut for doors and windows for military training) that I wasn't going to put Celeste through the serious noise that would be caused there. I had earplugs; she did not, and until they invent some for dogs we'll just stay out of that area. It wasn't until after the entire scenario was over that we found out the bridge where we were sitting was a major objective. Regardless, I wasn't going to sit for almost 7 hours to wait for them to get to me.

When we arrived at the main building, we started unpacking the items we brought to sell. We made a fairly decent profit and even found a few items from other vendors that we wanted for ourselves. I hobbled into one of the latrines and changed out of my uniform. I got to see lots of new shades of black-and-blue as well as the cuts I didn't know I had on my knee. The blood had been absorbed by my long underwear, which is why I didn't see it through the wool pants I'd been wearing. I sat down and iced my knee for a while and chatted with other reenactors as they dropped-out early as well.

As we sat there waiting for the scenarios to end, Husband and I talked about possibly changing our unit's designation. Maybe we'll portray a quartermaster unit since we do better at selling stuff to the reenactors than in keeping up with them. We're not doing medical corps -- there are many VERY good medical reenacting units. Our fear is that we'd just get stuck with the biggest, laziest reenactors wanting us to hump their butts back to the HQ on a stretcher and that ain't happenin'! Maybe we'll consider doing ordinance since they wouldn't have to march into the field. Artillery and recon were discussed but they require vehicles and we've owned a MB Willys Jeep before and don't need another money pit. The 35th Division even had a CIC (Counter-intelligence Corps) detachment. We're not sure what in the world they would have done, but they would have been "in the rear with the gear."

Yes, we're getting too old to play this game. WWII reenacting is fast becoming a young-man/woman's hobby. Our days of marching through the woods, mud, sand, hills, valleys, and anything else they threw in front of us are slowly ebbing away. We'll keep at it as long as we can, but a smart person knows when defeat is creeping upon them.

Then again, we can always form the 35th Infantry Division Band.

Today's post delayed by injury

2012-01-14T22:39:00.000-06:00

Howdy y'all! Well, I would be posting my usual stuff tonight, but today I was at the Battle of the Bulge WWII reenactment at Camp Clark, Missouri. A little snow on the ground to give us the feeling of "being there" and a bunch of great guys/gals with which to enjoy the day.

Sadly, Celeste wasn't happy when Husband fired his SMG without warning and she pulled me into a ditch. My knee (which I previously had broken in college in another blog-worthy post) took the brunt of the fall and I'm now icing it down. It excuses me from being able to post (according to my own rules). So, be sure to check-back tomorrow for the full tale and my odd insights!

Preparing for battle tomorrow....

2012-01-13T14:44:00.000-06:00

Today I'd planned to write something about it being the first Friday the 13th of the new year, but holy crap on a cracker!! You guys are really into my post about Discovery Channel's Combat Cash! My hit-counts are going way up and I've had a few comments on the article, too. I'm either the new speaker for the masses who agree with me that the show is not what it should/could be or I'm the new heretic that should be burned at the stake for daring to say that I didn't like it and feel as if that's an hour of my life I'll never, ever get back.

Either way, it stands up under the Rules for this blog -- I write only from the truth, even if it's just the truth as I see it. And everyone is free to agree or disagree or agree to disagree with me. This is just a blog I started to help me process things going on in my head and I can't help it if something sticks in my craw and the "shut-up filter" won't activate while I'm typing. So, thanks to those who've read and shared the post! Thanks to those who've commented! And thanks to those who want to continue this journey with me through the rest of the year. Remember, insanity doesn't run through my family -- it saunters slowly and gets to know everyone before making itself at home!

So, kind of on the same topic of my Combat Cash rant, today Husband and I are preparing for the Battle of the Bulge reenactment tomorrow at Camp Clark outside Nevada, Missouri. It's not as large of an affair as the Conneaut, Ohio D-Day battle, but for those of us in the Midwest who want to have a fun weekend doing LARP (live-action role-playing) of Axis versus Allies it's a great place to go. Husband is currently packing the car with the militaria we plan to sell at the event from my website. Just a note -- if you are from California and are coming to the event, don't tell anyone where you're from because the word around the Midwest dealers is that now we can double or triple our prices because of that show and you'll be more than willing to pay them. I don't plan on taking any modern-day militaria; just packing the WWII through Vietnam-era items that might be of interest to the reenactors. Many of them will get tired or will have blown through their supply of blanks quickly and will want something to do, so we're more than happy to sell them stuff at reasonable prices so they can brag to their friends/comrades/etc. what a deal they got or how they were lucky to find such an unusual item.

I'm in the process of making sure all of my uniform pieces are present and ready for inspection. Yes, even though I'm a female and women didn't have front-line positions in the military, I do WWII reenacting and have for many, many years. And not just when I do Soviet where females were on the front-lines as snipers, tank crews, and many other positions. I am the unit commander for the 35th Infantry Division, MP Platoon based out of Southern Missouri and Arkansas. I do a male impression when there's a tactical battle (no public audience) because I'm not content to sit on the sidelines and watch all the guys have fun running through the woods and "shooting" at each other. I have to make sure my uniform is correct; my hair is cut short like the guys or pinned-up so that it meets the 10-foot "authenticity" rule; and I have to show and reshow people I'm just as qualified and in some cases more qualified to lead a unit into "battle." And as for the 10-foot "authenticity" rule, I pass it easily. True, I'm heavier than most WWII recruits would have been and there's always some smartass who makes a comment about the ampleness of my chestular region. But, my uniform is usually more authentic (or at least reproduced more authentically) than many of the guys' are. Also, Husband and I have sent shockwaves through some of the German units who thought they witnessed two male reenactors kissing after a particularly tough scenario, only to find out that it was us greeting each other on the way back to the vehicles. I'd say that counts as an "authenticity" pass.

This year, however, I probably won't be on the "front lines" as much since Celeste, my service dog, will be coming with me. Beaucerons were used in WWI and WWII by the Allies, so she'll be the perfect "war dog" to take and intimidate the captured enemy soldiers into confessing their objectives (even though the most she'd do would be lick them if I let her). She's even getting excited about going somewhere because she sees me packing new leads and collars and a lot of extra food, water, treats, and her booties (to protect her pads) in her personal bag. Plus, she deserves "doggie time" and there will be ample time when the battle is raging somewhere else that she and I can toss a ball around and let herself enjoy playing in the sun.

Husband, however, has already jumped into "military mode." As a bit of history on him, he is a military veteran having served in both the Army and Air National Guard for over 28 years. But when we get ready for WWII battles, you'd think he'd jumped-back in time and "Sergeant Husband" has stepped forward to organize a full mobilization. He want to be sure to get to the "fuel depot" (to fill-up our 2001 Suzuki Esteem wagon since we no longer own a military vehicle). He's up at "Oh-Christ-Hundred Hours" making a list of everything that needs to be done and packed and the specific order in which it will be done so that he can stow the "manifest" to ensure everything makes it to the battle site and back home again. Actually, I can't complain -- he saves me a LOT of time and worry about things because usually all I have to do the morning of the trip is wake up, take the dogs to go "walkies," get dressed and enjoy the ride because everything's packed and ready. Even my ammunition clips are already loaded and waiting for me!

So, this is what I'll be doing tomorrow. I just wanted to be sure to clarify that in case I'm either too tired or too sore to type anything before tomorrow's midnight deadline in keeping with the Rules of the blog. But don't worry -- I'll be sure to have a great recap of what happens, especially for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about. It's not a cheap hobby; it's not an easy hobby; but it's my hobby and it's a LOT of fun!!!

Discovery's "Combat Cash" is crap!

2012-01-12T14:12:00.000-06:00

Reality TV is stupid. It's beyond stupid. And it's certainly not any reality I'm familiar with -- actual or imaginary.

People have become hooked on watching other people do incredibly stupid things to get on television with the hopes of winning money, getting married, or just for their 15 minutes of fame. And what passes for "reality" television these days is horrible.

Last night, I suffered through Discovery Channel's latest "reality" show, Combat Cash. I figured that someone, like myself, who is into militaria and World War II reenacting would enjoy a show about others who have the same interests and perhaps I might learn a thing or two. I learned something alright....I learned that these guys are idiots.

Let's go back a bit for those who aren't personally familiar with who I am and what I do. When I'm not working disasters with a certain governmental agency, I run an online military surplus retail store (you can find the website in my profile information). Husband and I have collected, bought, sold, and traded military items from almost every major conflict and most of the major players in them. We specialize in items from World War I to the Vietnam Conflict (although, every veteran and civilian I've ever met that was in Vietnam at that time said it sounded more like a war than a "conflict"). Our main speciality is World War II GI (American) Military Police and the 35th Infantry Division. We even attend World War II reenactments where, yes, we as fully-grown adults dress-up in uniforms (mostly reproductions since originals are hard to come by these days) and play "good-guy/bad-guy" with others dressed as Germans. We attend as either US 35th Division MPs if it's a Western Front event and as USSR NKVD if it's an Eastern Front event. Many of our friends portray British, Italian, German, GI, partisan, and Soviet and we have a good time running in the woods shooting blanks at each other just like kids used to do when playing "Cowboys and Indians" with their old cap guns and toy bow-and-arrow sets. It's pretty much the same, actually....except that the "guns" are actual military surplus and cost a LOT more than your average plastic six-shooter but the amount of squabbling over who did and didn't get "killed" is still pretty much the same.

So, it's pretty safe to say that we know what our items are and what they aren't. We've had to become adept at detecting the faked items from the real thing -- and these days it's getting harder and harder to do. There are companies that not only make almost perfect copies of WWII German medals/awards, they even have reproduced the boxes in which they were originally presented!! That's one reason I won't buy German militaria unless I can absolutely, without-a-doubt prove that it's original. Too many fakes out there for my wallet. Sure, it's great to buy reproduction items when you're on a budget and need something for a collection to hold a place until you can get an authentic item or if you plan to run around in the woods and don't want to take your incredibly expensive originals out to play. But if you're buying and selling items to make a profit and you don't have a clue as to what is and isn't real and how the fakes are fooling many, then you're in big trouble.

I grudgingly sat down with Husband to watch the premiere episode of Combat Cash last night and laughed about how we'd been contacted months ago by "producers" saying that they worked with Discovery, TLC, and other big cable networks who wanted to do a reality show about military surplus collectors/dealers and if we would be interested. First of all, this "request" came by email from someone I had no idea and couldn't find information about who they were. Secondly, why would I want to show where I purchase my inventory or how I get awesome deals on it?? It's like announcing to the world, "Here's how it's done, so be sure to get there before I do because I don't have the desire to actually make money anymore. Oh, and while you're at it, here's where we live/work so you can see our collection and steal it from us. M'kay?"

The first episode was awful. Pure and simple -- just awful. As a matter of fact, I started live-posting on Facebook about it when I wasn't either laughing myself silly or having a fit over something stupid said or done on the show. I posted on my profile and our business' page. Here's a sample:

"Watching the premiere episode of Discovery Channel's 'Combat Cash.' OMG!! These guys are idiots! They say they know everyone in military collecting -- well, we've never heard of them! Getting ready to watch the episode that includes WWII reenactors. This should be a fiasco!"

"Watching Discovery Channel's new show 'Combat Cash." The premiere episode was incredibly stupid. Watching the second episode which is supposed to feature WWII reenactors. They just said that 'not many people have this kind of firepower (i.e. M1 Garands, MP40s, MG34s, etc.).' No....not in southern California where they are they don't! They're using the firearms to record sound effects for a WWII videogame that has dinosaurs as Hitler's mechanized weapons. We'll maybe they at least won't have someone yelling 'Take your hit!' like Medal of Honor: Underground had. That is, if they don't kill themselves -- range safety seems nonexistent!"

"Okay....just to let everyone know, we saw the 'Combat Cash' guys sell an "original" M1 steel pot painted with medic insignia for $1250. No, there's not a decimal point missing out of that -- they sold it for twelve hundred fifty dollars!! Now everyone will believe ANY painted "WWII" helmet is worth at least that. And they didn't even prove that it was "original" (stamps, seams, etc.) that people who actually know their stuff would be sure to look for. I feel sorry for the guys who bought it 'cause now their names are all over national TV!"

You get the idea. And the show also featured them going to the annual Conneaut, Ohio D-Day reenactment. Now, I've never had the opportunity to attend that even but I've heard it's pretty awesome. The last D-Day invasion I participated in was the 50th anniversary reenactment at Ft. Story, Virginia. That was AWESOME! But, I digress....

These yahoos they call "hosts" of the show started walking through the vendor area and were talking about how "Midwestern prices" are insanely low and how they could go in, buy a lot of stuff, and sell it for twice or three times what they paid to customers in California. Oh, goody!! They're not only incompetent at identifying items or putting reasonable values on them, but now they're insulting us who live/work in the Midwest by basically typecasting us as ignorant rednecks and hillbillies who are too stupid to know what things are "really" worth.

In the show, they make a point of saying that they're very busy finding new items for their store and that the store is open by appointment only. Who can make a living operating that way? And they charged the videogame dudes $5000 to record sounds of weapons when they could have easily flown themselves to Knob Creek, Kentucky for one of their Machine Gun Shoots and gotten all the effects they needed for a lot less than that! The final straw for me was watching these goobers argue over whether or not to purchase a BSA paratrooper bicycle and watching the seller get really irritated at their squabbling. It was finally decided that if one of the guys jumped out of a plane that they would buy it. Huh??? It wasn't even the seller offering to take the guy skydiving!! Why would you settle a purchase argument by spending more money???

I hope this show either (1) goes off the air soon so that reputable militaria collectors/vendors like myself and many other companies we affiliate with will be able to continue selling items before the general public starts ranting "But on Combat Cash they offered a guy more!" or (2) that they find someone who actually knows what he/she is doing to educate these people that the whole militaria collecting world doesn't revolve around what's done in southern California.

But, I did notice one of the guys lost a rear sight on the M1 Carbine he borrowed for the D-Day battle. I've got an original WWII one for sale!! Maybe I'll inflate my price on it, just so they'll feel more comfortable!!

Am I in or am I giving therapy?

2012-01-11T16:25:00.000-06:00

I had to ask the question in today's title. I mean, I'm paying for a service but there are days I feel I should be getting a paycheck. Let me explain....

It's "therapy day" again! Today is when I go spend an hour with my psychologist, talk about a lot of different subjects (ADD runs the conversation), occasionally answer some questions and/or educate her on something she didn't know about, and then drive home wondering what I was supposed to get out of all of that. Don't get me wrong -- I enjoy my visits there because it's one way I gauge how I'm doing with my anxiety/agoraphobia/panic/depression. If I'm really talkative (i.e. I do ALL the talking), then I'm either having a manic day or perhaps I'm feeling more comfortable because Celeste, my service dog, is asleep in the floor and there's no threat over which I should be panicked. If I'm not so talkative, then I'm back in the depressive mode or I don't want to be out in public or there just aren't enough shiny things in the room to set-off the ADD while Celeste is asleep in the floor, again showing me there's no threat over which I should be panicked.

But if someone were to watch me in my sessions or ask me what was the major point I took away from a session, 9 times out of 10 I'd have to say, "I have no idea!"

Maybe I am getting more than I think I am. But when I look back at some sessions, I really wonder who's counseling whom. When does the "student" become the "teacher?" And, at what point do the voices in my head need another good poke with a Q-Tip to get them to shut-up so I can be helped instead of "helping" by rambling on and on for an hour?

Take today for an example (it's the best one I have because I can remember it more clearly than past events since it just happened). I was asked a very simple question, "Is there anything coming up where you might be called-out to work?" By "called-out to work" she means deployed away from home working a national disaster event with a governmental agency that has a simple acronym that has been twisted and turned into good and bad definitions since August 2005. They call; I pack my stuff; I say my "goodbyes" to friends and family; and then I drive or fly to my destination to begin working for a term of not less than 90 days and all the way up to 50 weeks if it's really bad.

At the moment, there aren't any events occurring or projected that would require me to be deployed, so I told her I'm still "out-of-work" for the moment. Then the "shut-up" filter turned off and I started rambling about how I have an appointment on the 18th with an ophthalmologist, how our auditions for the local community theatre's play had to be rescheduled (and why) for the 23rd, and that this Saturday I'm going to a World War II reenactment of the Battle of the Bulge and that I'd ordered a new collar and lead for Celeste so she'll look more "authentic" in the field. The conversation wound its way through how Celeste has been around loud noises and shouldn't be afraid during the "battle" and that her breed was used by the Allies so she'll be perfect, especially since I'm doing an MP impression. It then veered off onto why I'm seeing an ophthalmologist again for the umpteenth time even though I've had nearly every test available and no one in over 20 years has been able to tell me what the heck is wrong with my vision. Finally we skidded into theatre technology and how I would love to produce a play but don't have the money and currently am wondering how in the world we'll even get the one we're holding auditions for off the ground. Then I explained how sets are built and the willing suspension of disbelief that allows the audience to believe you've actually built a Victorian house onstage when all you have is some styrofoam, lumber, starched muslin, and a lot of paint. That point somehow inexplicably led into me talking about how the Globe Theatre was constructed and plays were staged there and how I'd seen the current reconstruction of the Globe in London during the mid-1990s and that it's hard for men in corsets to project their voices without microphones. She stated that there are probably a lot of "drag queens" who'd look good onstage but I corrected her that most of the actors aren't supposed to look as if they've been "tarted-up" to be female, they're just portraying a female character by wearing the wigs and dresses because men played all the parts way back then.

Next thing I know, it's been an hour and I've talked almost incessantly and noticed that she's jotted down a few notes but I have no idea what they are. And, so, I have another appointment scheduled but it will have to be rescheduled due to the ophthalmologist appointment and someone should be calling me to set that up, thank you very much, and wandering through the waiting room as everyone there tries to guess what breed Celeste is and telling their children to not pet her. By the way, most people guess German Shepherd Dog/Doberman-mix and I let them know that they're close because those breeds came from the Beauceron and then I have to try to keep myself from going into my memorized "lecture" about the lineage of the breed. "Just get out the door" my voices start telling me. "Just get out the door and go home. You have dinner to cook and videogames we'd like to play."

All the way home (which is only about a 10-minute drive), my brain is thinking, "What are we gonna blog about today?" Nothing has happened; at least, nothing worth writing about.

This is with what I deal. Trying to be a "normal" person when you're bat-crap crazy and trying to self-therapy yourself through writing and making sure to use proper English spelling and grammar (see the previous sentence for an example) because you can't stand seeing everyone's "text-speak" and poor writing on Facebook and other places. Is it interesting? I don't know. Is it worth doing? For the moment, yes. It's an outlet where I can put on paper (virtual paper, that is) what's running through my head. It's kind of like letting a toddler or small terrier run around in the backyard. You let it go and go in the hopes it will tire itself out soon so that you can put it down for a nap and get on with the "adult" part of your life that you still haven't figured out yet.

Now, I have to make sure that dinner is still cooking in the slow-cooker and that I can squeeze-in a bit of videogame time. If I don't, I'll never hear the end of it until I finally pass-out from exhaustion tonight.

Momentarily making music memories

2012-01-10T13:53:00.000-06:00

Another day of not much happening. Our theatre auditions last night (and the ones for tonight) had to be cancelled because whomever was responsible for posting the information to the public didn't and not enough people knew about it. Today I made sure that the event is listed on Facebook, through the electronic version of the local newspaper, and on the local forums for events in our area. I can do those for free, so that's my contribution. As was so wisely said in "The Producers" -- "Never put your own money in a show!"

So, today I don't have to worry about rushing-off to auditions and will have more time to help make sure Youngest Son practices his trumpet for his solo and sextet for the State Band Competitions coming up in April. I'm thrilled he's getting to go and even more thrilled that he's really excited about playing there. I remember when I was younger and in band. I went to State a few times as a soloist and with the entire concert and marching bands. Perhaps I should have taken it more seriously and I would have done a lot better. Then again, the ADD was already set-in and I couldn't decide which instrument to play more. I started with flute but that bored me after I achieved first chair. I taught myself to play all of the saxophone family, percussion instruments, and even the entire clarinet family. It was very hard trying to play the contra-alto clarinet when I was too short to reach the mouthpiece as it stood on the floor. I could never get the right amount of pillows or phone books in my chair to have me seated comfortably, but it was a challenge and I wanted to conquer it.

Looking back, after learning all of those instruments -- plus the B-flat scale on the French horn, playing classical guitar, and taking the requisite piano lessons all of my friends and I seemed required to do -- if I could have just picked one I might have been pretty good. I became our conductor's "jack of all trades" in high school. He wanted a certain instrument added to the band that no one else was playing, so he'd hand me one from the school's vault where old instruments go to die and have me teach myself. Usually it worked out well. I didn't make us sound worse, at least. However, the oboe and I fought for about a month until I thought I was going to pop my eyeballs out of their sockets trying to play the double reed. That one I happily gave back and said I wasn't going learn it.

Maybe someday I'll start playing again. Eldest Son played the trombone but tired of it after high school. We used it and my old flute (couldn't believe the amount of money they gave me in trade for the old thing!) to purchase Younger Son's trumpet. For now, I just listen to the soundtrack of music I love in my mind and dream of being the person playing or conducting and feeling the goosebumps arise. It's cheaper and doesn't annoy the neighbors.

Day 9: No post for you!

2012-01-09T13:32:00.000-06:00

Geez....only 9 days into this thing and I'm stuck again. Well, actually not stuck -- my "voices" have decided to start arguing at night when I'm trying to go to sleep. Each one brings up an idea for something great to write about or something that I should probably get off my chest. Then I have the reminder "voices" that pester me about things I need to or should be doing instead of writing. They don't realize that they're wrong, actually, because I should be writing since this is what's supposed to be helping me feel better. However, I've learned not to argue with them too much because they're the ones that flip a manic day into a depressive one in a nanosecond and then I spend the rest of the day/week trying to explain to Husband and Youngest Son that it's in no way their fault that I'm in the funk that doesn't let me do much.

So, I'm not going to sit and try to really work-up something awesome. I've been enjoying that my posts have been becoming more and more popular recently. But there are things that need to be done and things I want to do as well as a lot of stuff I don't need to do but I'm going to anyway. Like taking a nap, or playing a videogame other than from the Lego series. Or taking a nap because I'm not getting to sleep at night with the "voices" arguing until the wee hours of the morning. Maybe I'll take a nap just because I can. Who'd have thought when I was a kid and hated having to take them that naps would become a favorite pastime of mine??

Oh, and tonight is the first night of auditions for our local community theatre's upcoming production. There will be a few posts, I'm sure, after the auditions are over and the rehearsals begin. Always good material when you're getting ready for a show!

So, short story long, there's nothing to see here. Clear off! Go read some of the other posts I've written that you've not perused yet! My brain and I are off for a bit of rest.

Public education at its worst? We can only hope....

2012-01-08T12:47:00.000-06:00

I'm trying to keep this blog strictly focused on the things that I'm feeling and issues I need to deal with because this is a "therapeutic" process (so I'm told) that will help me in the long run. I'm also doing it as a way to judge my writing and what's interesting to others. Sure, only my brain would take something simple as writing in a journal and put it online for the world to see and try to analyze popularity and subject trends based on visit counts and comments. I told ya' they're a busy bunch up there!

But today I have to get on my ranting box about public education. I am a product of public education, but I couldn't believe something I saw online. This morning, I read the article "'If Fred Got Two Beatings Per Day...' Homework Asks" (http://news.yahoo.com/fred-got-two-beatings-per-day-homework-asks-230717586--abc-news.html) and was just gobsmacked. The state of the nation's public schools are already in trouble -- let's just increase that by pretending that the "social studies and math combination" is anywhere near appropriate.

When Youngest Son was in elementary school, he wanted to attend the summer school program one year because they were offering classes not only for remedial students but also for those who wanted to take additional classes they normally couldn't provide during the school year due to their limited budget and staffing. One morning the teacher for his class left the room unattended while she took her daughter to the kindergarten classroom and visited with her teacher. During this unsupervised time, it's still debated whether or not Youngest Son either said something rude to a female classmate or pinched her. I certainly object to whatever it was and if he did something like that and she'd hauled-off and slapped him, I would have said it was well-deserved. However, I was only aware that something had happened when he returned home after lunch with large red marks around his neck. I asked what had happened and he told me that the female classmate had attacked him and was choking him until another student got the teacher from across the hall to come and break it up.

A little backstory here to help you understand a few things. This happened in the school district where not only Paternal Grandfather, Biological Father and Mother taught, but I had also attended school there as a small child and had even been long-term substitute teaching during the school year prior to this event. It's a small town where everyone knows everyone else and I was always greeted as "Miss Jackie" by children and adults alike because of my "status." For some strange reason we were considered by many to be of some made-up "upper level" because my family had been teachers and I had returned to that town after many, many years and was by my birthright continuing our honorary legacy. Even Husband was often referred to as "Mr. Husband" and occasionally people would ignore him until when they asked to whom he was married and he mentioned my name they'd squeal, "Oh! You're Little Jackie's husband! How wonderful! What can we do for you, Sir?" I knew most of the teachers at the school because either they were a teacher of mine or my parents/grandfather worked with them.

So, I immediately contacted the school regarding the incident between Youngest Son and his classmate. I was told that something had happened between the two and the little girl had grabbed him and was holding him down on a desk by the throat when the other teacher arrived and pulled her off of him. I asked if the student was going to be disciplined. I was told that they couldn't tell me. I asked if the teacher who had left young elementary school students unsupervised would be reprimanded. I was told that they couldn't tell me. I asked what the school planned to do because Youngest Son and his classmate would still be in the same classes and was told that they couldn't tell me. As you can imagine, I was furious. Husband and I contacted the chief of police because he happened to be a school board member and asked what could be done. He said that he was aware of the classmate's family because they lived across the railroad tracks from where we lived and that although his officers were familiar with that area and the type of events that went on there, he could do nothing because it happened at school and couldn't discuss it. Husband even scheduled an appointment with the Superintendent and Youngest Son's school principal to try to get some answers. While both admitted that what had happened to Youngest Son was uncalled for but they weren't allowed to discuss what may or may not happen to the classmate, the teacher who left the students unsupervised, or if any measures would be put in place to ensure something like this didn't happen to other children. They stated it was all because of the privacy clauses and when Husband said, "Well, what am I doing here if you're not going to help us?" the Superintendent replied, "We were wondering that, too."

We have since moved away from that area but for two years we kept him out of the public school and homeschooled him. We used a program provided by the State which allowed for interaction with other homeschooled students and a teacher via the Internet and he blossomed in his education. There were so many things they required of him that students in the brick-and-mortar schools would never be expected to do, such as write a report or complete advanced science experiments in the fourth and fifth grades. When we moved to our current location, Husband and I researched the local school districts and found that they ranked highly in curriculum and staffing. Youngest Son said he wanted to go back to public school so he could make new friends. He's still doing very well, is in advanced classes, and we warn his teachers at the start of every year that he is very intelligent and therefore prone to boredom if not challenged enough. Already this school year he hasn't gotten in trouble to the point of receiving a detention or being sent to the principal's office, but we've heard plenty of stories of things he's done and/or requested to do because what they're doing in his 8th grade class was something he did while homeschooled and he's bored to tears. He wants to be in the district's gifted program, but because he wasn't here during elementary school when they gave the tests, they won't let him in because all of the other students have been together for so long and it wouldn't be fair to them. I know....my mouth dropped at that explanation, too.

So when I read the article posted above this morning I was astonished! Public schools already have bad reputations for teaching only to the tests to ensure that their funding continues and hang the consequence if the students don't really learn anything. Children are shuffled from grade-to-grade in order to get them out of the system so that the school can boast about graduation percentages, regardless of the fact that many of the students still can't read above a second-grade level and the academic performance of over half of those graduates would barely be considered passing. Teachers are tired of being restricted by curriculums that only allow them to teach certain topics because that's what the kids will be tested on at the end of the year when there are many supporting and complimenting topics that would help ensure the students have a complete understanding of the concepts being presented, not just regurgitating answers.

I recently heard about an Assistant Superintendent in a regional school district who told all of the English teachers that they were no longer allowed to teach Shakespeare because "it's old and no longer has any relevance on today's children's lives." This person also has a doctorate in education and students currently in the public school system. Makes me wonder if the edict was given because (1) of a true belief that Shakespeare and other "old" examples of literature are outdated or (2) the students pressured their parent to get rid of subjects they didn't understand so they could make higher grades.

My Oldest Niece was homeschooled. She's currently in college and doing very, very well. She's got a great future in front of her and I know that she'll be able to accomplish anything she puts her mind to because she's already had to do that. Through her homeschooling she wasn't limited by a teacher who had to make sure everyone learned on the same level and that the slowest child set the pace for the progression of lessons. She's advanced in so many ways, not just academically but also socially because she had to get out and participate in her community as part of her lessons along with her desire to help others and continue to learn more. And people say homeschooled children are socially awkward and can't relate with others. That's certainly not true and when she was nominated as the Student to Watch in her geographic district instead of the local high school quarterback or head cheerleader. It shows that homeschooling, when done properly, beats-out public education in many ways.

Any teacher or curriculum supervisor that believes the questions asked on the worksheet in the article were appropriate needs to have their license revoked (in my opinion). I don't think we should ever gloss-over any part of our history because, as is always said, those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it. Jim Crow Laws were never more alive than in that small town where Youngest Son was assaulted. And trying to excuse away something like that is, well, inexcusable. What's next? Will we start asking questions such as, "As the Indians traveled 300 miles per day and were given smallpox-ridden blankets by the U.S. Calvary on average of two per family, how far could a tribe of 1000 plan to journey towards the next reservation before they succumbed to disease or mistreatment along the way?" Or, "If 3000 Japanese internees are relocated from California to Arkansas and placed near the Italian and German POW camps, how long will it take for each camp (assuming the same number of internees in each) to dig tunnels and meet-up so that Americans in the late 20th Century are forced to purchase higher-grade electronics and vehicles from the descendants of these internees?"

Yes, the questions I posed above are absurd and shouldn't be allowed -- but how many of you needed to check to see if any of the actual facts included were correct? Thank your public education for that.

My favorite response to the article was this: Q: "You have 10 oranges. Your neighbor comes over and takes 2. What does that leave you?" A: "A dead neighbor and all 10 oranges."

When did screeching become in vogue?

2012-01-07T17:52:00.000-06:00

Many people seemed to enjoy my post the other day where I ranted about how people act around my service dog, Celeste. While I try not to rant too much about things, I find myself doing it a lot. It's because I've been diagnosed with a low tolerance for stupid people. That doesn't mean that if a person is simply unable to learn due to either a disability or lack of resources available I'll hold it against them. The "stupid people" I'm talking about are those who choose not to use either their education or the common sense with which they should have been born.

Today is one of those days. This afternoon, Husband, Youngest Son and I decided to go out for lunch. We've been to many restaurants in our local area and most are very accepting of Celeste because she has the legal right as a service dog to accompany me. For some reason, the places I have the most difficulty are Chinese restaurants. I'm not sure if they're simply worried someone will call the health department for them allowing a dog in their restaurant or if they're worried I'm there to check the immigration status of their employees. Because of the hassle trying to explain to someone who barely speaks English that she is legally allowed to stay with me and they can't make me sit away from everyone else or not go to the buffet because they don't want her close to the food (even though she completely ignores it), I usually avoid those places.

Our restaurant of choice today was a locally-owned Mexican restaurant where the first time I took Celeste there they weren't too sure about her but now they know she'll stay quietly under the table until we're done and never disturbs others or eats anything dropped on the floor. They, along with most of the restaurants I frequent, forget that she's with me during my dining experience because she's so quiet and well-behaved. Of course she is -- she's a trained and certified service dog.

The problem is even though the restaurants know that she's allowed to be there, other patrons do not. And when out in public, I know there are people who are allergic to dogs (those with serious allergies, not just the sniffles) and those who are afraid of dogs. Today, we were walking into the restaurant as a group of people were walking out. As I told the hostess how many people were in our party, I suddenly began to hear screeching to my left. Apparently, a teenage girl on her way out with her family saw Celeste and decided to let everyone within a one-mile radius know that she didn't want to be near a dog.

For those of you who don't personally know me, let me give you a bit of information about Celeste. She's a Beauceron -- a rare breed here in America but a very popular French herding dog breed that has in the past been used as a police dog and was used during World Wars I and II by the Allies. The breed dates back to the 1500's and the Doberman Pinscher and many shepherd breeds were created from the Beauceron's bloodline. She's an AKC Champion and weighs about 85 pounds. Basically, she is an imposing figure for anyone not familiar with her and though she's not trained for aggressiveness or "protection," all she needs to do is look someone in the eye and they usually give her a wide berth.

The girl began to squeal in a very annoyingly high pitch while jumping up-and-down next to Celeste. The rest of the group she was with was trying to shuffle her out the door, but she continued to jump while muttering something about, "Don't let the dog look at me!" So badly I wanted to turn around and say, "Hey! If you'd stop acting like a lunatic she wouldn't have even noticed you!" Youngest Son was incredibly embarrassed when we sat down. I asked what the problem was and he mentioned that the girl who was screeching is in his 7th hour class this year and that she acts that way at school, too.

It completely baffles me how people act around a service dog. The most outrageous scene we've experienced (so far, anyway) was when we were at a shopping mall and Celeste and I entered the elevator because (1) I wanted to visit a store on a different level and (2) dogs can navigate escalators but not easily and it's very dangerous if they're distracted. As we entered a teenage girl began to scream at the top of her lungs. The pitch of her voice went higher and higher as she began to crouch in the floor and scream, "It's a dog! It's a dog in here!" Then she followed that up with just higher and higher screams of varying lengths. I tried to explain to her that if she would stop screaming, Celeste would stop looking at her. Even her friends began to back away as if they were trying to deny they ever knew her. I told her that if she didn't want to ride with a dog that she was welcome to leave and held the door open for her. Nothing was going to stop her from her hysterical attention-grabbing act. Even a small child standing with her mother in the elevator said, "What a big baby" in the teen's direction.

What is it with attention-seeking idiots who feel that their sophomoric actions will improve their standing in others' opinions? I hear people talk on television and social media about "drama queens" and can only imagine that these people are auditioning for the title. Why in the world they'd want to be known for that completely escapes me.

But, rest assured, as I find more examples I'll be sure to document them. This isn't a challenge for those of you who know me to try to make the blog. If you do, I can pretend that I've never met you just as well as those other gals in the elevator did.

Tale of a "Play-Well" videogame addict

2012-01-06T21:06:00.000-06:00

Okay, okay....I'm hooked. I'm a middle-aged person who has become addicted to videogames. And not just any videogames -- I do have some sensibilities about myself. I play on the computer, my PS3 and my PSP. I even enjoy watching Youngest Son playing and trying to find the things going on in the background that are designed for those who are just observing and not the actual players. But I'm not addicted to MMORPGs (I do have a life). First-person shooters are fun and can be great stress relievers when needed. Platform games about Italian plumbers, lombaxes, bandicoots, and hedgehogs just aren't my style. And while I love a great puzzle game, sometimes I don't want to think when I'm playing -- I just want to play.

And don't get me started on the new motion-capture devices that have been added to new gaming systems to make you feel as if you're really "in" the game. True, some can be used as an exercise program for those, like me, who don't feel comfortable sweating it out in front of others, but I also enjoy having nice items hanging on the walls and sitting on the shelves in my house. I moved away from an earthquake zone a few years ago and don't really want to feel that kind of shaking in my house again, especially when it's my fault.

No, the games I've become hooked on have a story. They have many characters. They're based on movies I've loved for years. And they're even cute when you blow-up part of the scenery or another character.

I've become enraptured with Legos.

I must explain that I've always loved Legos and those little blocks were lots of fun when I was a kid. I enjoyed them much more than my Lincoln Logs because I could never build anything other than the basic cabin shown on the canister. And don't get me started with Tinkertoys -- those things would splinter and crack as if they'd been shipped with their own termite infestation in every box. I could never build anything sturdy with them and if you got a rod stuck in one of the holes, you were doomed to have a wheel forever.

Legos when I was a kid was just a bunch of colored blocks and you had to use your imagination to decide what to build. Somewhere along the way, the creators decided to include instructions with certain kits and you could recreate objects and places from famous movies. I loved that my kids loved Legos -- it meant that I got to put them together for them which was always a thrill for me.

Years ago, Lego had tried to entice kids into becoming movie producers when they sold a special set that had a stop-motion camera and software kit. If you were lucky, you even got a minifigure that looked like Steven Spielberg. Suddenly, adults were creating stop-motion movies based on popular movies. Star Wars, Star Trek -- not much was off-limits. You can even find remakes of scenes from movies on YouTube done in Lego that are better than the originals.

But the geniuses behind Legos, video game corporations, and the movie industry got together and started a marketing frenzy. Not only could you build little sets and scenes from the movies you loved with actual bricks, you could now immerse yourself in a movie brought to life through animated bricks! Plus, the minifigures in the games don't speak, so you get to imagine what they're saying (or quote it verbatim in your head if you've memorized the movies as I have). And when you destroy something, it breaks apart into separate Lego pieces -- no blood, no gore; it's good, wholesome fun!

I've played them all. I relived my childhood while playing Lego Star Wars II because we all know that Episodes 4-6 are the only TRUE Star Wars stories worth watching, no matter how much George Lucas thinks the prequels sated our appetites for more adventures in a galaxy far, far away. And, yes, I did play Lego Star Wars and bought Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga and Lego Star Wars III: The Clone Wars. I bought Lego Indiana Jones and thoroughly loved getting to recreate the first three movies. Even after Lego Indiana Jones II was released only so you could implausibly survive a nuclear blast in a refrigerator as seen in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, I bought and played the heck out of that game. Lego Batman gave me the chance to prance around as a superhero with my underwear on the outside and create a lot of havoc one can only wish to accomplish in real life. And Lego Pirates of the Caribbean -- let's just say that my habit of watching every rerun of the movies on cable made it easy to finish.

However, there's another Lego videogame genre that has a tighter hold. Youngest Son had all of the Lego sets that went with the first two movies in the franchise and when he outgrew them we sold them on eBay for a hefty sum (all went to one buyer). He and I each have our own copies of all of the books and he has the Lego Nintendo DS version while I've got PS3, PSP, and Windows -- just so I can see the differences in them all. I can play it for hours and not notice the time passing.

My name is Jackie, and I'm a Lego Harry Potter addict.

Years 1-4 weren't enough. I dashed-out and made sure to get Years 5-7 as well and have worked hard to get 100% completion without having to go online. I've collected every minifig and extra power and additional spells. Yes....because of me I know what's in J.K. Rowling's appointment diary at every available space -- "Count my money."

And it's a kids game! I should be playing Portal or something that makes you think, not just button-mashing. But, no, I sit and giggle every time I get Lego pieces to explode. People don't like to do the cooperative play with me because I'm determined to explore EVERY inch of Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and every other place they create because I want to find all of the secret pieces. Youngest Son has gotten frustrated when we've played together and he can't move forward through a maze because I'm still poking around in every corner for Lego studs so I can attain True Wizard status.

If only I could bring Jar-Jar Binks over from Lego Star Wars and watch the Harry Potter spells and traps blow him up, I'd be rolling on the floor with laughter.

Sadly, however, I must now wait to see what new Lego videogame franchise will be introduced. I've finished all the ones I have and even though they have hours and hours of "freeplay" levels to complete, once those are done you just don't know what to do. The newer games have Lego Creator additions where you can build your own levels. But that requires the aforementioned thinking that I don't always want to do when I sit to play a game for pure entertainment.

I will add, though, that Youngest Son has enjoyed his newest games immensely and I've begun to wonder just how well I could challenge GLaDOS. Perhaps adding some extra thinking to my playtime will be good for me.