This is where I get off

    So like I said, this blog ends soon. In fact, now. There will be a new blog reasonably soon without my name or contact information attached to it. Anyone who might be interested can just holler and I'll hand across the link. (Any friend, that is.) I haven't gone paranoid or anything. It's just that over the years, there were so many things that I couldn't write about regarding extended family and acquaintances. It will be nice to be free of restrictions. Also it won't matter if some complete fiction is thrown in; in fact, it would probably help. Anyway, that's the plan.
    I thank my readers most sincerely. Your numbers are not great but the friendship that you have shown most certainly is. If you get to missing my authentic first person singular voice, just drop a line. I can be counted on to reply pretty darned promptly.

Edit: Corrected typo. As it's the last entry, I probably should have left it, but just couldn't. Still me.

Finally something to blog about!

    As Tamara points out, I finally have something to blog about! However, the problem with waiting 3 hours at the IRS and then having the actual appointment last most of another hour is that you feel too drained to talk about it. This is mostly because of the no food no drink policy. The fact that they relaxed the No Cell Phones rule to No Cell Phone Conversations was a life saver. Messaging with Tamara was all that kept me sane.
    If everybody else had had somebody to message with, it would have been a pleasant if boring experience. However, the long, long wait told on more than one of us and the beeing and emming got pretty unpleasant. The woman working the concierge desk went to the back to help out serving us, and one idiot suggested that she was hiding back there and further noted that the glass probably wasn't bulletproof. Not surprisingly, security turned up quickly. Idiot also kept calling them Robocops (meaning rent-a-cops). They were amazingly patient and reasonable in the face of neverending abuse. Her dad went out in the corridor with the idea of persuading her to leave. She went ballistic about that as if the security guys had made him go. She said she would go full throttle if they messed with her father and that's when the security guy told her to leave. She had also mentioned not being allowed to smoke in there so possibly it was partially a nicotine fit. Note to self, get nicotine patch if I ever a) take up smoking and b) have a long wait in store.
    In the midst of all that, a lady came out, apologized for the delays, said that unfortunately some one had called in sick today, and she and another person were handling everything, and would also have to take turns taking lunch. This went over GREAT. But I for one appreciated the candor and felt more calm.
    The rest of the time was quieter, but still filled with b & m. Also increasing hunger. I was delighted by two older guys talking about the old days playing baseball and the players today. When my number was called, I was totally ready. Unfortunately, I had two things to deal with. The second required materials to be faxed to another IRS office, which my rep was totally willing to do. It took another half an hour though somehow, which is the problem with antiquated technology. But the actual dealing with the IRS part of visiting the IRS was completely successful, almost delightful. I hope I don't have to go back any time-- ever, really. The $10 parking charge at the nearest garage was just the cherry on the top. But I got it done. Yeehaw!

Wasting away

    These are just getting shorter and shorter, aren't they? And this one is just to note that I won't be making it to 2000 entries or whatever the number is. I'll be winding it up very, very soon. There will be a new blog but no direct link for it. If you want the link, just ask, though. I think you can find the email address around here somewhere. That will be going away soon, too, but it will be operational for the next little while at least.
    There are good reasons for this change, which I can't really share. Another reason, though, is that I tried to look up something that had happened to me a few years ago and found that I never wrote down the crucial detail. A little disappointed in yours truly, it's true. I'll try to get in a good entry before I go though!

More unexpected fun

    Tamara's sick, so I can only write a sentence or two. However, I just wanted to mention how fun and easy putting together a new cat tree/tower was. I'll be telling Amazon the same shortly. The thing is as tall as me and looks to be more fun than anything. Of course it will take days to get Amelia even to approach it. But I think both cats will love it. (Just to be clear, this is the unexpected fun, with the more part referring to yesterday's IRS call, NOT Tamara being sick.)

IRS 2

    Fool that I am, I volunteered to sit on hold for another 15 minutes for the opportunity to talk to the IRS. When I got through, at least I didn't get cut off. But I did get put on hold again. However, after that, everything was fun. I talked to Ms. Carmen, who I once would have referred to as an older woman, but I'm 54 for goodness' sake. We're all older than we used to be. Anyway, Ms. Carmen was funny, charming and made the process easier. However, as I suspected, there was no way for me to prove over the phone that I'm really me. The qualifying questions were all about installment plans and mortgages, neither of which do I have. Note to IRS: not everybody is interested in the debt bandwagon.
    So I have to go in on Monday with ID and social security card and tax forms and IRS letter in hand to prove that I haven't been a victim of identity theft. I suspect that this will be less fun than talking to Ms. Carmen. At least I won't have to sit on hold with a cat yelling at me. I hope. Stand by for IRS 3!

Who am I anyway?

    I'd like to thank the IRS for giving me something to blog about other than my girlfriend's health, which I suspect she would rather me not do. (By and large, she's fine, by the way.) The IRS sent me a letter a week or more ago wanting proof that Dad was dead and that I was really his executor/personal rep. Before I could cope with that, they sent another asking me to prove that I'm really me. They recommend I visit the IRS's verification website. I did, but it could not verify me and I was instructed to call the 1-800 number.
    The 1-800 number of course immediately told me to go to the verification website. It also warned me that my wait time would be 10 to 15 minutes. I was relaxed; I have both a speaker phone setting and a television. Their muzak was no worse than any bank's and I passed an uneventful wait. Then I heard, "Please wait," dialing, and a voice. Speaking Spanish. I said, "Excuse me?" and the person said that I had been shunted to the Spanish line mistakenly but that she could help me in English. Anyway, that's what I think she would have said except the line was cut at that point. I assume that she accidentally hung up on me. My enthusiasm for this project, never high, has tumbled after being cut off five seconds into a conversation after a 15 minute wait. However, I did and do think it's funny as hell. As it's a 24-hour line, I'm thinking of trying at 4 in the morning. Thinking is a long way from doing of course. But one has to get through somehow if one wants his tax refund, which they warn will still be another 9 weeks away after all this is done. Thanks identity thieves! I just love ya! (Identity thieves in general who caused this level of caution; to the best of my knowledge, my identity is safe.) Wish IRS would just give me an address to go to where I could show my picture ID and sign a statement that hell yes I filed that 1040 form. But that would make sense.

Shhhhhh!

    A year ago, when she first got here, Tamara bought a Groupon for a prominent local restaurant. It was quite a deal and she was going to take her cousin, but the cousin thought that the place was too formal and wouldn't go. School started and she never went and the Groupon deal expired. However, she could still get a credit for the amount she had originally paid. So last night, we went.
    I wish I could tell you more about the restaurant, because we really, really liked it. However, we're not at all sure how advisable that would be. Because they honored the expired Groupon. But nobody said that they were honoring it in spite of its being expired; the bill was just lower by a vast, vast amount. We're still not sure if it was a mistake and don't want to take any chance of getting anyone in trouble. Nor of course receive a retroactive bill. But I must say, we had already decided that we want to go back. We are much much much more likely to do so now. So even if it had been done in error, it doesn't turn out to be a big mistake. (Anybody local wanting to know which restaurant this is about, just email and I'll share.)

Numbers

    Obviously, I've been phoning this in for a very long time. I'm trying to hang on until I get to my next big even number, 2,000 posts or whatever it is. I'm starting to think that this is an unworthy goal and I should just hang it up. The problem with being happy is that there isn't much to talk about. I'm not sure that the difficulties of choosing the perfect new cat furniture is a topic that really has legs. (But if anyone has any brilliant suggestions, we would be soooo receptive!)
    I enjoy exploring my dreams, but I don't remember many. I still get the ones where I'm in a city-sized dormitory forever looking for somewhere to eat, somewhere to sleep, or somewhere to use the bathroom. (That should be food, a bed, a bathroom, shouldn't it?) Tamara thinks it means that I feel lost. I can go with that but am fairly used to feeling lost. Also, my brain always takes a while to recognize changes. I told her that the next time I have that dream, I'm just going to stop somebody and ask for directions. I bet I never have that dream again then.

Addicts

    We've been watching Game of Thrones in recent weeks, starting from the beginning. For a while there, we were able to restrain ourselves and watch only one or two episodes per night. We've sort of lost our minds, though. Saturday night, we watched three episodes. This resulted in stiff necks and we swore we wouldn't do it again. That sure lasted! After Jackson Browne, we watched another three episodes, going past midnight for the first time. Last night, we did it again, but stopped before midnight at least. We're about halfway through season 4 (out of 6). So we'll be running out of episodes fairly soon, there being only ten to a season. We dream about it. We talk about it in the night. No doubt we'll be joining a 12-step program soon. (No we won't.) We do try to throw in a light comedy now and then. Game of Thrones is excellent on many levels, but zany it isn't. We're seldom bored with it, though.

Jackson Browne show

    Yesterday's blog post today! Before heading to the Jackson Browne show, we formally agreed that if the show was bad at all or if our fellow attendees were again obnoxious, we would bail and come home. No on one and yes on two, but we stayed all the way and enjoyed it all. It was odd how many of his big songs that he didn't do, such as "Here Come Those Tears Again," "Boulevard," "That Girl Could Sing," "Lawyers In Love." I would have liked to hear "The Fuse" as well. But everything he did was terrific. He did one song that isn't on any record, another that's on his most recent record but which he didn't write. It's by a singer/songwriter very popular in Cuba but unknown here. On the whole, he came across as a very decent guy, and perfectly willing to do requests called out from the crowd. We dug it.
    The Township is still not our favorite venue. We learned a valuable object lesson, though. The expensive seats for the Moodies offered a great view, but we couldn't hear them well. The cheap (actually free) seats offered ok sight lines and we could hear perfectly well. If we ever return, I think we'll go with the balcony. But I seriously doubt that we'll return.

Jackson Browne

    We're going to see Jackson Browne solo acoustic tonight and I'm excited, really, I swear I am. The only thing is that I won the tickets last year, picked them up in early January for a show that was initially supposed to be in January but was postponed due to illness. And the radio has been playing the same promos since January of Jackson singing solo and acoustic. And it sounds very, very, very downbeat and depressing. I know that Jackson has been touring for decades and must know by now how to include an upbeat number here and there. I'm sure it will be a great show and that we will enjoy every minute. But I tell you what: whoever made that promo did Jackson a real disservice. If I hadn't won the tickets, there'd be almost no way I would have bought them. That said, I reiterate: I expect to enjoy every minute. AND to call out my home town like at the start of Running On Empty. We are hoping and praying that the "ROCK AND ROLL FOREVER!!!" people from the Moodies show aren't seated behind us again. Cross all fingers and toes.

Chihuahua chatauqua

    You wouldn't think it would be fun. It isn't a very exciting place. An unpaved road running from nowhere to nowhere, flanked by not very scenic farms. But it's the best place ever for excitable chihuahuas to run, since there aren't other dogs (or people) there. We've gone three times now, and twice with both chihuahuas, and it's been crazy fun every time. We are hoping that Lucy (the older, more nervous traveler of the two) will eventually start to associate car trips with fun instead of vets and plane flights. But it's possible that she has motion sickness. Anyway, once we get there she has fun and absolutely refuses to admit that she's tired when she's obviously flagging. It was supposed to be crazy hot today, but a tropical depression coming this way depressed temperatures. (It also raised humidity, but you can't have everything.) So we got an extra fairly temperate day in what is normally already summer around here. So yay!

Wow!

    The array of presents beloved Tamara gave me for my birthday is just flat astonishing, but I'm not sure she wants me to talk about it. However, the most amazing ones must be mentioned. A tape player with a USB connection for turning songs on tape to MP3s and a turntable that does the same for my old singles and LPs. I'm just in awe, overwhelmed, and crazy grateful. It will take a long, long time for me to work my way through all of them, and I'm going to enjoy every minute! What a sweetheart she is! She also gave me a lot of other neat stuff and three books, always the best way to stay high in my esteem. She is a mind reader, as well as a wonderful person and a sweet darling. What a birthday! Yay!

It's my party and I'll fail to blog if I want to!

    There's been a lot of these lately, haven't there? I was amused to dream last night about going to North Carolina and taking walks on golf courses which looked nothing like golf courses and everything like hiking trails. Sawgrass was mentioned, which I'm reasonably certain is not in North Carolina. A reminder of the Mark Twain quote about a good walk spoiled. There was also some business about a CD I have by Dizzy Gillespie, Sonny Rollins and Sonny Stitt with only four cuts on it. In the dream, there was another cut I always left off that was 20 minutes long. Completely fictitious, but now I want to hear that imaginary cut. Have to go to Sawgrass I guess!

Ozone

    We were wondering why an hour of gardening kicked our butts so thoroughly yesterday. It turns out that today is an orange alert for ground level ozone locally. This suggests that levels yesterday were also high. Anyway it's likely. So no gardening will be happening today. I'll take my walk somewhere there's a lot of trees. I have a few such plays to choose from, and I can also seek out butterflies.
    At the moment, though, I'm imprisoned, because there's a plumber working under the house. I don't know why I have to be here since I have no kind of key to that crawlspace, but apparently it's part of the deal. Getting a request to flush from beneath my floor is a new experience for me. Hopefully it means we're coming close to the end of the problem. And I can get on with pre-birthday stuff. Or walking.

Real Estate

    Today we took Tamara's car to the dealership for much recall work. It's still there as of 5:30, but we're told we can pick it up at closing time at 7. So we wandered town and I showed her some of our cool neighborhoods (we have some, really!) and looked at hip houses. I don't think I'll be buying any time soon or ever, but it was fun to dream. It was fun even for me, a near lifelong resident, to see some neighborhoods I'm not so familiar with. And Zillow lets you see inside the houses which was also a bit of a revelation.
    We also finished up weeding her yard, or anyway made massive progress. Still have to pick up car. I'm on the porch enjoying the crazy beautiful weather with Amelia, who seems to be getting over her Great Explorer tendencies. At least for today.

Chihuahua joy

    This is yesterday's entry. Time got away from me and I never got a chance to make one. Tamara and I had another of those days that sound like little on paper but was pure joy in execution. We took her chihuahuas to the far end of (unpaved) Old State Road again, this time bringing both instead of just one. Man did they have fun! You would not believe how fast old, arthritic little dogs can run. We had pretty big fun, too. Also we saw good butterflies, like a very large yellow-form tiger swallowtail. So I was much relieved on that score.
    We brought along her stroller (bought on Craig's List for pet use), which didn't get a lot of use with the athletes we were with. However, we then took them to Grill Marks. It's a restaurant that welcomes dogs on the patio, but the chihuahuas had to be zipped away in the stroller or they would have run out into Gervais Street. But we gave them a selection of what we were eating. We think it made them pretty happy. It was a banner day for chihuahuas.
    We also went to Lowe's. She had already bought a push blade mower; this proved inadequate for the weeds in her yard when we put it together. So we got a cordless weed whacker, and this did the job nicely. So on the whole, a lively, fun, productive day. Aren't we good?

Worked out

    Well, the plan was to go to Charlotte for VegFest. On the way, we were going to look at the spider lilies at Landsford Canal State Park. That was more or less how it turned out. However, we had trouble finding parking for the festival. Went around some blocks and found-- ANOTHER Ethiopian-Eritrean restaurant! And it was great!
    So in short, the trip came out a little upside down. We dug the spider lilies. We dug the Ethiopian food. We were fairly bored with VegFest, although everyone was very nice. However, if we'd gone all the way to Charlotte just for that, we would have been sorely disappointed. But a great day we had, and know a new Ethiopian restaurant now. Yay!

Lilies!

    Today we're headed to VegFest in Charlotte, where we're hopeful of finding gluten- and soy-free treats but certain of dairy-free since it's actually a vegan festival. On the way, we're stopping at Landsford Canal State Park to see the Rocky Shoals Spider Lilies. I'm ridiculously pumped and best pleased to have the new phone/camera. The previous one had a 4X zoom, but by that it meant it cropped the picture to 4 times smaller. This one has an 8X zoom and the smaller picture has much more detail than one cropped to the same size. (I tried it out yesterday.) In other words, the old camera didn't really have a zoom, just an automatic cropping feature. This one has an actual zoom. Thanks Anne and Malcolm!
    Last night, for the first time in ages my feet weren't cold. Tamara had been feeding me arepas and tamales. We were joking about the vitamin C in Corn. But maybe there is something in there that I've been missing. "Ferulic acid, beta-carotene, vanillic acid, coumaric acid, caffeic acid, and syringic acid are other key phytonutrients provided by corn. Corn is a good source of pantothenic acid, phosphorus, niacin, dietary fiber, manganese, and vitamin B6." Who knew? Google suggests it may have been the mussels from the other day. Cool! We love mussels!

Fireflies!

    This is yesterday's entry, meaning that today's follows momentarily. I took Tamara to Congaree National Park at sunset last night to see the synchronized firefly show. There were many many many more visitors than when I went last year. Much to my joy (not at all sarcastic), there was a car in front of us in both directions. So no chance of hitting a cat this time. So our visit was much more joyous than was mine last year. The fireflies put on a brilliant show even though all the photographs came out black. Just because the new phone camera works great in low light doesn't mean it will pick up points of light in VERY low light. That said, they did show up in a couple of pictures; just not well.
    In case you haven't heard, synchronized fireflies only appear in a few places in the world. The nearest (not counting yards in Columbia) is apparently Southeast Asia. So pretty cool stuff and we're very lucky. Very talented bugs we got up in here.

Oh just rain

    It's the peak period for the Catawba River Rocky Shoals Spider Lilies and I'd really like to take Tamara to see them, but we have rain pretty nearly statewide pretty nearly every day. This stinks and everything, but after last fall, it's kind of nice to have days of rain without any sense of fear. Mind you, we didn't have any fear last time until the actual floods happened. But as I've mentioned, I at least had a touch of panic for several months after the flood any time it rained. It's nice that that has passed. It will be even nicer to be able to take Tamara to see the lilies. Hoping for Saturday. It could happen!
    Beloved brother Malcolm and sister Anne sent me a new high-end phone. I have to drop by T-Mobile to get it activated. There may be a gap in service and in blogging. I'm sure the world is deeply worried.

El Mariachi

    We are probably the only people you know who would make a quarter-year together celebration out of a visit to a Mexican grocery. But what a Mexican grocery! I mention it, though, because anyone who might be surfing in from our hometown Columbia SC might have a little trouble finding it, even online. El Mariachi as far as the Internet is concerned is a store on US 378. It's a fine store, too, but a little small. Their newer location on Decker is still listed under its former name. This one, though, is vast. Described in the one article about it we found online as "larger than Trader Joe's." Tamara called it the Whole Foods of Mexican stores, although I think she did it in Spanish. She was looking for some fairly obscure ingredients, popular in Latin America but impossible to find here. They were all in this El Mariachi, none in the other one nor in the other store I searched. So if you're in the 803, take the Decker Boulevard exit from I-77 and look out on your left. What a place!
    We also found authentic Latin food very nearby at Taqueria Jalisco I think it was. El Mariachi also had a restaurant but it was a little weird since no one was there. The checker said you walk up and tell the lady (whom we hadn't seen when we were back there) what you want and they cook it. Might be great, but we went with the better-reviewed place. Tonight, we go swanky. Hey, you only have one quarter-year together celebration!

Good sign

    No, literally! One of the candidates for county council has a very well designed yard design. I could of course describe it or post a photo, but that isn't the point. The point is that I'm considering voting for him or her (it's a non gender determinative first name) exclusively based on the design quality of a yard sign. I'm not going to do it, of course. I'll look up the candidates and read up on the issues and all that between now and the election in June. I'm just mildly disturbed that I'm tempted to vote on that basis. Mildly, though.
    This is the day Tamara and I hit the quarter-year mark. We were going to go to a swanky restaurant for supper but after we had gone to a diner for breakfast and a taqueria for lunch, we figured we might not have room for supper. So we'll do that another day. We did go to the best Hispanic grocery in town (El Mariachi on Decker if you're interested) where Tamara, who used to live in Central America and grew up visiting Mexico frequently, was in heaven. So a good day so far!

End of an error

    So I'm shuttering Columbia's chapter of Drinking Liberally. I should have done so years ago because it went out of business even before I became the host, but for sentimental reasons I soldiered on. However, we've gotten to the point where it's just Tamara and I being in a specific space at a specific time, fielding one or two Facebook messages asking who is there. This is hardly fair to Tamara and hardly fun for me either. If people wanted to come, they would have done so by now. So it's the end. I feel mostly relieved. Oh and I suppose am waiting to be begged to carry on with promises of frequent future attendance. Not. Holding. My. Breath.

Asheville!

    We had just about the perfect day in Asheville. The food, the shopping, the sights-- it could hardly have been better. Unfortunately, after early rising and a lot of driving, I'm pretty nearly exhausted, so you'll just have to take my word. If anyone wants details and or restaurant tips, just comment below and I'll gladly share them tomorrow. But, damn, dang, wow, what a day we had! It was windy so the temperate weather meant that I should have worn one of my 19 too many blazers, but jumping into shops and galleries on every block solved that problem readily. Zowie we had fun! And our animals even more or less behaved while we were gone. Will the miracles never cease?

Please sign and return

    When I was buying the car, the finance guy at the dealership tried a number of lenders to swing me a car loan and I tried USAA. All turned me down, which I understood. Now all are sending me written notice that they turned me down, which I could easily live without. USAA told me at the time that I didn't need to have insurance with them to get a loan, which I didn't particularly need to know since I do in fact have insurance with them. Now they've sent me a letter which they want me to sign and return acknowledging that they have informed me that I don't have to buy insurance from them (which I do anyway) to get a loan from them (which they've already turned down). And you know? I think I'm going to make an administrative decision and not bother signing and returning. I'm sure it's required by some law; I'm sure all the unnecessary and unwanted notifications from the assorted unwilling lenders were required by some law. I'm just saying I could live without it.

Open again!

    After two years, three months, the elevated boardwalk at Congaree National Park is AT LAST open again! Just in time for fly season, when it's really needed! I'm so thrilled it's ridiculous. Saw it on Facebook and (invited Tamara first then) immediately set out to hike it. It still has that new boardwalk smell!
    Bad news is that all the roads southeast of Columbia are being worked on at the same time. I wasn't aware that we're Duluth, but apparently it all has to be done at once to beat these brutal winters. So Bluff Road is closed and you're shunted on to Old Bluff Road. That isn't a problem because that's the normal route to the national park. Unfortunately, it's being worked on, too, to the extent that half the road is dirt for a significant distance and the speed limit is 10 mph. Ouch. I got out again via a circuitous route involving more road work of course. Still glad I made the trip, and can't wait to bring Tamara. As I say often in these situations, it was good to be home.

Prepared to live off banana chips

    I keep thinking up great blog entries, which I then forget by the time I get to the keyboard. Maybe you've noticed. So in the meantime, I'd like to note that Tamara and I again ate at Cabanas on US 378 (Sunset Blvd., West Columbia), a fun, charming Honduran place. The first time was a little nerve-inducing since they didn't seem to know what gluten is. This second time was, too, but all my fault. I ordered something that included (breaded) fried chicken. I was willing to try cutting off the skin and breading, but it was somewhat too dry for that to work. Tamara asked if they would substitute something not fried and they did! Chicken breast no breading.
    Point to all this is that the basic dish was fried banana chips, very much like mofongo from my favorite Puerto Rican place on the other side of town. Fried banana chips, cabbage and chicken. I just loved the fried banana chips, very much like potatoes. I just don't know how good an idea eating banana chips (or plantain for that matter) at every meal would be. But I might be willing to try. Other point is that Cabanas was just like visiting out Honduran cousins if we had any. Most recommended for people without food sensitivities, but highly recommended nevertheless.

Abbreviation contest

    My bank sent a second debit card. The last I heard, one had been sent a month and a half ago but I never received it. So a new one was sent to my branch. Nobody mentioned sending an extra; the invisible one sent all those weeks ago supposedly had been canceled. This one has exactly the same number as the one sent to the branch. In short, the one competent bank employee turns out not to be either. Everyone is welcome to play in the new contest to rename NBSC, more usually the National Bank of South Carolina. I'm open to any suggestion, but lean toward anything starting with Numbskulls.
    Meanwhile on day 2, Tamara is still house-hunting in Savannah. Virtually, but still. Still thrilled that she loved it as much as I do!

WE WENT TO SAVANNAH! WE WENT TO SAVANNAH!

    Really, some day there will be a real blog entry. Right now I'm very tired. The drive down and back was actually pretty relaxing, but still made for a long day. A wonderfully long day, but a little fatiguing. All we did in Savannah was walk around a bit, eat lunch, walk around a lot, sit in a bar and cool down and come home. This I'm sure sounds totally unexciting. It was the awesomest! Tamara loves Savannah if anything even more than I do. I think she started house-hunting. So we had just the most wonderful time even though we did nothing but take what amounted to a self-guided walking tour. (We like their cathedral, too.) It was about as hot as we could have managed though, which is a bit of a bringdown considering what the weather is like there for half of the year. But hey! If we lived there, we'd know where to find air conditioning breaks. Anyway, marvelous day with my marvelous girlfriend. And the new car performed a little better than the old one. We might go back soon. But first: Asheville!

Oh hi, summer!

    Mind you, the forecast has already changed. But for a minute there, the five-day forecast was for 90s every day this week. Up until lately, this would not have affected me much, since I live in a world of air conditioning. However, since Amelia has decided that "I get to be an outside cat, too," 90 degrees outside is where I will be more of the time than I would strictly speaking prefer.
    I am hoping that she notices pretty soon that she is a Norwegian forest cat and much too darn furry for this sort of nonsense. But so far, she's all about the nonsense. Tamara and I are more or less planning to go to Savannah tomorrow on the grounds that that was supposed to be the one non-90-degree day. Since the forecast got a little less hot and bothersome, there's a little less weather-related pressure. Also, it's still May ffs; there should still be cool days. Still, I'm hoping that we go all the same. She's never been, and I love Savannah. And it would be nice to give the new car a good shakedown cruise. I'm hoping.

Blessed relief

    Tamara has finished her long, long, long difficult semester. She is immensely relieved and I am on her behalf. We are out to catch up on fun stuff, hoping for instance to hit Savannah on Tuesday, the one cool day predicted for the week. I'm not trying to do another brief entry, but I'd rather be with my sweetheart than writing this. So here's another short one. Fun thing was I was bringing her takeout for supper last night and she submitted her last paper just as I was about to pull in her driveway. Pretty darn neat! We are the king and queen of timing!

A NOTHER moral question

    I've been at this for five years. It seems likely that I've used the topic "A moral question" by now. But if not, this way is still interesting if not funny. Anyway...
    So my friendly used car salesman Dave tried to get a little slick. Twice. The Carfax report available online said, as I mentioned, that the car had been in an accident. Dave gave me a printed report that had that information deleted. I showed him the one saved on my phone, but I guess he didn't take detailed notes. He produced another one that showed an accident but this one after the car was on their lot. (This would also mean that they called the police for an accident involving one of their own used cars, which seems a little excessive, but still.) Dave also went on and on about their 160-point inspection. He gave me a copy of it in fact. It mentioned which day the car had come into the dealership's possession-- a month after the accident date on Dave's Carfax report.
    The question is should I do anything about it? The mechanic looked over the car (my mechanic, I mean, not 160 point man) and said that if there had been any damage it had been repaired perfectly. It didn't affect me particularly then. Still, one doesn't like to see dishonesty, nor used car dealers living up to their reputation. I doubt I'll do anything. I did more or less like the guy. But it was a little skeevy, I think.

Mr. Hamlet's bank also indecisive

    For future ref, line up the bank loan first. Then select the car. Picking the car first pretty much means paying for it all. Oh! Only if you have no credit record. Not so much to say. I was told to come in after noon to finish up the transaction. I tried to get a loan through USAA over the phone, but the guy I talked to didn't get the part about me opening an account first and so it was turned down. I stopped by my bank to see if they would do me a loan; the personal banker was very encouraging.
    To make a long story short, they were busy and she didn't get back to me until roughly now. I had long since gotten fed up and just wrote the check. The whole point to the enterprise was to GET me a credit record. I can still do a title loan (from the bank, not one of the skeevy storefront operations) but I'm fairly fed up. However, I have a kicky almost new car belonging entirely to me with quite low mileage. So there's that.
    Last fun thing was the business guy Jim trying to sell me an extended warranty. I told him I was sure it was a great idea, but I couldn't write a bigger check and I just. had. to. be. out of there. Ironic when they're trying to hammer more money out of you by running down the reliability of their own product. I think I can live with the decision.

Mr. Hamlet buys his car

    Tamara really needed to finish her schoolwork today, but nevertheless agreed to come with me to look at my prospective new ride. It proved to be a very long afternoon. However, everything went well. We took our test drive basically to a mechanic. We were dismayed when he said the examination would take an hour and were more so when nobody came to get the car for ten minutes or so. But they actually finished in a half hour and issued a buy recommendation.
    We didn't actually test drive it much longer. I would have liked to take it on the highway, but we wanted to get the deal done soon. That did not actually happen. Much paperwork had to be done. The fact that I had literally no credit record was marveled at. In the end, I gave them a down payment and we agreed to settle up tomorrow afternoon. So I am 39% or so owner of a 2014 Toyota Avalon XLE hybrid. I'm reasonably thrilled about it, but my main reaction is relief not to be driving that crappy car anymore. Not that I felt any shame; just the sense that it might blow up (or otherwise fail) at any moment. I was also tickled that the lady at USAA told me that my premiums would be going up due to trading in for a 20-year newer car. NO!

Mr. Hamlet and his car

    My friend Walt found me a couple of used Toyota Avalon hybrids on cars.com. One was very very low mileage; that one has since sold. The other one also has quite low mileage. The Carfax report also says it had an accident just before being traded in to the dealership. The report offers no details. It does say that there was no major damage. Presumably it was a fender-bender and the person just traded it in rather than deal with it. But I would be more comfortable with more information. I'll probably follow up on trying to get a mechanic to look at it tomorrow. I'm still pretty confident that it's the car that I want. Just not as confident as I was before looking at Carfax.

Where do I know your face from?

    I was at Stepping Stones thrift store on Two Notch when a shorter grey-bearded black gentleman passed me, turned, and said, "Where do I know your face from?" I told him that I had been about to ask him the same. I asked if he played jazz anywhere, since most of the people I know tangentially seem to be musicians of some kind or another, but he said no. So I said, "Dialysis place?" and he said yes. It was funny to find myself being a little nostalgic about that place. It wasn't really an awful place, and people were generally friendly and uniformly supportive. But it was dreadfully boring. Nevertheless, it was nice to see one of the nicer people there.

Numb

    My lips and tongue have gone numb. I am hoping that this is due to changing supplements from a B-vitamin complex only one to Publix' imitation of Centrum Silver. The latter lists all ingredients, none of which should contain gluten. But nowhere on the package does it say "gluten-free" (like my B complex does). Also the problem dates from a couple of days after I started the new vitamins. So I've switched back, and most sincerely hope that sensation returns very very soon. On the whole, I'm very tired of having a body that lets me down almost every day. I swear I didn't used to be this old. Oh yea-eah.

Perfect game!

    I think I mentioned that a month ago, we were in Charlotte where a restaurant somehow failed to return me my debit card. The next day I called the bank and asked them to cancel my card and send me a new one. They assured me that they would. Weeks later (after the requisite 7-10 business days), I asked at my nearest branch and the Personal Banker told me that nothing had happened. Not to worry, though, HE would cancel the card and have a new one sent. After another 7-10, I got sore annoyed and called the bank again. Turns out, they HAD sent the card when I asked the first time; it just went missing in the mail. Personal Banker had done nothing he had said he would, or at least nothing on my account. This is the same guy who mislaid my telephone number when I was trying to get a fax to be able to do my taxes, eventually causing me to have to pay Office Depot $5 for the same service when it turned out to be the wrong fax. (Not his fault that time.)
    I don't want to say the Personal Banker's name; it might be unfair and ageist to someone as young as Andrew. (Oops!) The lady at the help number is overnighting the card to my other nearest branch (not Andrew's) and also put my correct phone number in the records so they won't have to write it on a fugitive piece of paper next time. I was glad to find one competent person in the bank hierarchy. It won't be enough to make me stay, but it was nice to find one.
    Meanwhile, Tamara is feeling much better. I hope it is long before she has migraines again and hope even more that it's never. Crossing all fingers and toes.

Helpless

    Tamara is suffering from migraines, starting the middle of last night and again early this afternoon. I am absolutely powerless to help and hate it infinitely. I gave her backrubs which at least reduced the tension otherwise, but do not kid myself that it helped at all with the headache. I can only hope that they go away on their own. She's trying to sleep it off, which as I understand it usually helps. I hope it does this time. I only ever had one migraine: saw a white light, threw up, slept for hours, felt all better. I hope that finally happens for her. But I'll certainly give backrubs for whatever help that may represent.

Sometimes I forget

    I believe I mentioned it at length last year when I bought very expensive arch support insoles (Superfeet) and subsequently had a lengthy period of adjustment before they became comfortable. But they did and I had significantly less back, foot and leg problems than usual. Lately, my back has been acting up a lot and more recently feet, calf and thigh trouble has turned up. So I bought new Superfeet. I was surprised to find that the ones I bought last year were actually for minimally flat feet. They have much higher ones! However, the problems I was having during the adjustment period were not in the area of the insoles feeling too low but too high. So I can only imagine what the Superduperfeet insoles are like. Regardless, since last year's model worked well eventually, and for a year, I bought the same again. And the point to all this is that they worked so well that I forgot that I'm flat-footed. When my back and neck, etc. started acting up, it took weeks for me to think of it. Which I suppose is an endorsement, isn't it? Hoping for quick relief and a quicker adjustment this time. Also put the old ones in my backup shoes. Hey, they cost $60; even a year old it has to be better than nothing, right?

Beat maker

    Forgive it please if I've blithered about this before, but I think that was a different app and a different phone. The iPod has been misbehaving lately. At first I thought the battery was shot, but now it appears that the problem is that it's showing a full battery when it's not remotely full. When I leave it plugged up for long periods, I get battery life like I had before. I think. I'm going to try leaving it away from charging all night tonight and see if it drains itself again. Hope not!
    Regardless, when I hit the trail with a discharged iPod, I sought out other music sources. On THIS phone, I have a beat maker app (called, you'll never believe this, Beat Maker). Usual thing, you pick your instruments and pick when you want them to play over four bars repeated endlessly. This time, they're all percussion instruments. Then you get to play along on one of three synth basses. And what I found out the other day and don't think I knew before is that if you play any array of notes using any time signature or randomly, once you've gotten through the four bars, Beat Maker fits your notes into its time signature. Meaning that a three year old could suddenly be Chris Squire. (Better, since you get away from the whole being dead part.) I was best pleased. You would be amazed how interesting four bars repeated endlessly can be, a point I believe I made when I blithered about another app. And it's free!

Fill and sign

    Somebody needed me to fill in a .pdf form. They had not set it up to be filled in. I was able to find the Fill and Sign tool in Adobe Reader X to allow me to add text. How I did this, I have no idea. Whether I could ever do it again, I have no idea. It's neat being able to figure out how to meet every challenge that comes up. It would probably be even neater to be able to remember how you did it. As it was for a doctor's office, maybe I'll add that to my list of symptoms, after "being a chronic hypochondriac."

Pancakes

    I so can't write the recipe, though! For one thing, the pancakes weren't very good. For another, the cooking was done almost entirely on feel with very little predictable rhyme or reason. Then again, if I COULD write that recipe, well I'd know I could be a cookbook author!
    The problem with my savory gluten-free pancakes is probably that I put in too much stuff. True or not, the problem needing a solution was that the individual pancakes were too thick. Following the directions on the mix led to me having pancakes that were burnt on the outside but raw on the inside, which cuts in on their deliciousness and also their healthiness (or survivability, if you're cynical) since there's raw egg in there. So!
    What I did was get the griddle sizzling hot, pour in the batter, cover, and turn off the heat, setting the timer for four minutes. With two minutes left (i.e., when sizzling had abated), I turned the heat back on (Medium, which on this stove is as high as I ever go). Flip it and do more or less the exact same thing. Covering allowed the heat to pass more nearly all the way through. Turning the heat off allowed the pancakes to cook without burning. I'm pretty charged about doing the same thing with savory pancakes that actually turn out savory. I put in lentils, spices, steamed vegetables, a jalapeno and eventually Pickapeppa and Tabasco sauces. Just couldn't really ramp up the flavor. Next time I'll remember to use Trader Joe's Green Dragon sauce. That'll do it! Anyway, I wish I could report a resounding success, but at least it was a success to the degree that when I get tastier ingredients together next time, I'll know what to do with them. That's a win any day!

You'll find out tonight!

    Tamara and I went on an impromptu adventure yesterday. She was curious about nearby town Camden. Unfortunately no restaurant there appeared to be open Sundays. So we wound up going to a Camden-listed seafood restaurant that was actually nearer Ridgeway. It was a nutty idea, since neither of us eat gluten and most fish camp type places mainly serve fried seafood. But it turned out awesome! The broiled flounder was excellent. There wasn't really anything that I eat that I could put on my baked potato, but I like potatoes per se. We didn't try the catfish stew, but it appeared to be safe. We just didn't get around to it before our main dishes arrived. When they did, we found we had some wonderful looking hush puppies. I asked if they were by any chance all corn meal, noting that we were lusting after them but that we don't eat gluten. Waitress checked with cook and said that they were corn meal, onions and sugar; no gluten. We were best pleased, and she said, "You'll find out tonight!" I assume she knows somebody celiac or is herself. Anyway, we found out; there was no gluten. Yay!
    We then went to Sumter so Tamara could see Swan Lake/ Iris Gardens. It was a little too early to see the best irises, but we saw some and got some lovely pictures. And the swans were fun and impressive. And we liked the chocolate garden and were delighted by some small boys chattering. Tamara loved it and we dug spending time together outdoors something astonishing. Bu-ut... there's a butterfly garden. And there were no butterflies at all except the sculpted steel ones. So it isn't my imagination that they are few in numbers this year. But we'll be back! And they will, too.

It's upside down!

    Last night, we very much enjoyed a concert at ifART Gallery (which you don't want to mis-capitalize) by saxophonist Mars Williams, trombonist Jeb Bishop and percussionist Tim Daisy, operating under the name Trio Red Space or some damn thing like that. Mars is an insanely gifted player but maybe a little hyperactive, knocking his music to the ground twice. Sitting on the front row right in front of him, the first time I handed it to him. The second time though, his hands were full so I put it on the stand for him. Paul Grant, who promoted the show on Facebook for our friend Ross Taylor, gestured that I had put it upside down. Woody Jones, my friend, jazz CD connection and favorite DJ every three weeks, did the same in spite of being 20 feet away and on the wrong side of the music stand. I read music; I WRITE music. I can tell the difference. I thought maybe there were staves on the back and I had it backwards, but no. Anyway, after the show, Paul apologized, realizing that I really did get it right. I'm just glad that they weren't trying to wind me up. Frankly, I thought it was pretty damned funny. Next time, we bring hand fans. When they burn the house down, they REALLY burn the house down!

Butterflies still absent

    I haunt my own previous year Facebook posts, partly because sometimes I posted something funny or a good cat picture, but mostly to find out when the butterflies emerged in past years. The answer is "by now." So I'm increasingly concerned. I appreciate that with Houston still underwater, it may be in poor taste to whine about a lack of butterflies due to our own much less serious flood. But a) I like butterflies and b) they are important pollinators. (Yes I looked up the spelling. No it does not make any sense. Of COURSE something that moves pollEn would be a pollInator!)
    I'm wondering if Sierra Club or Audubon or Nature Conservancy or anyone has considered butterfly releases. Our entire state was flooded. Granted, butterflies will come back eventually, but this could take a while. Not like most of these migrate particularly. They'll come here following food. Eventually. I guess I'll give my Sierran friends a buzz about maybe doing releases. Spring broods are always smaller than summer, but this is ridiculous. One butterfly a day, every day, really strikes me as unusual. Prepare yourselves, Houston.

Certified pre-owned

    Now the rubber hits the road as it were regarding how serious I am about my objection to the phrase "certified pre-owned." My friend Walt found me a super-low mileage 2014 Toyota Avalon Hybrid at a reasonable price at a nearby dealership in about ten seconds. I'm thinking of offering an extra $100 or so if they'll call it "used" instead. Not very seriously, of course, but I'm thinking about it. I still have neither debit card nor more than one check, so I have to cross my fingers that nobody else jumps on this deal. Carfax says it's been on the lot for over a month, so the odds should be good. And there's another one at the same dealership with only a little more mileage. I feel good about this. Fond as I am of my old awful car, I'm not THAT damned fond of it. I had concluded that I could get more frequent oil changes and have a practically new car for $20 every couple of months or so. But a really GOOD car, one that I could take 1,000 miles if need be, would be a terrific change of pace.

Today's fake blog entry

    I had the most astonishingly odd dream last night. It was extremely brief. I was female, which only affected the story such as it was at the very end, apparently a totally imaginary person. As I'm not female, it's hard to describe the first person singular character as "I" but there you are; I went into a hotel room, persuaded a nation's government (presumably also fictitious) to purchase something silly. It was specified in the dream but I can't remember; it was something supremely silly like dinner placemats, though. And I came out again after a minute (so nothing untoward went on) and thought, "I'm a regular Derek T. McBogue!" Then I realized that I was female and thought, "MS. T. McBogue." In the dream, apparently Derek T. McBogue was the most persuasive man in the world. Somehow I remembered the name (obviously) and looked it up; in my heart of hearts, I really believed that I was going to get Google hits for the very persuasive Mr. McBogue. Alas, he's McBogus. But now I have a penname!

Yesterday's real blog entry

    Of course, I could edit yesterday's, but I think it's funny the way it is. I was off to pick up takeout for our supper (which turned out brilliantly!) and didn't want to take out the extra minute to post entire sentences. As it turned out, I had to wait ten minutes when I got to the restaurant, so I could have easily taken the time. But hey; it would have been a VERY hungry blog entry!
    Not that it was a very electrifying story anyway. What happened yesterday was that I realized that I was out of checks. Went to the bank to see if they could expedite the process. The branch manager told me just to phone the number on the order form and told me what to tell them. My bank brilliantly puts the name of the account on the check, which is a truly unfortunate phrase that makes me look like an idiot to be banking with them. So I wanted that off the check. She assured me that the people at the phone number could fix that. So I called. To make an unnecessarily long story short, it would have cost money to get that phrase off. And to expedite the checks, I could pay $50 for overnight, which I didn't need, or $10 to improve 7 to 10 days to 5-7 days. I could not make the woman understand that I would really prefer something in between. $20 for 2-3 days maybe? Sooo my bank loses another customer. Which was the plan anyway. But still.

Shortest blog entry ever

    See?

That was NOT supposed to be the interesting part of the day!

    And not that it will be. However, it was supposed to be totally pro forma. When I bought tires last, I was told to come back in 6 to 8,000 miles for a free inspection and rotation. I was a little late at 9,000 miles, but figured I'd do it today before heading to Charleston. Boy am I relieved! Dude showed me where steel was coming through on the driver's side front. ("I think you might have a little alignment problem.")
    I told him we'd have another problem unless they accept checks since I was still waiting on my replacement debit card. (They did. I told him about the card going missing at the Charlotte restaurant. As he had just had his mortgage payment bounce due to somebody stealing their card info at Hardee's, he was HIGHLY sympathetic.) It turned out that I had a warranty. I am not exactly "buy the warranty" guy, and thus assume that it came with the Michelins. Either way, I got two new front tires for $36. And now suddenly I feel safe driving Tamara to Charleston to see David Sedaris this evening. This, we've got to hope, will be the REAL interesting part of the day. Unless he's given up writing humor and wants to show us his watercolors or something. Well it's still Charleston, and Tamara!

How long have you been hearing that squeaking noise?

    Last time out, I had to get an oil change early because my car leaks a lot, the oil light was coming on briefly now an again and when I took it in to be checked, the fellow told me I had no oil in my crank case. We're going to Charleston tomorrow and it would be best if it were in my car for various reasons. So I went to get the oil changed early to be on the safe side. (Oil light coming on indicating no oil would be bad news in say, Pinopolis.) I told them we were headed to Charleston.
    After oil was changed, technician called me back to the garage to ask how long I had been hearing that squeaking noise. I told him truthfully that I hadn't been. He was ready to sell me new front brakes but I told him that I was most likely trading in the car in the next few weeks and was willing to risk it. I asked him to note it on the receipt. Now on the receipt, there were a number of suggested maintenance tasks, presumably due to the car's advanced mileage. One of them was not anything to do with the brakes. No doubt it was an oversight, but it smacks of a(n attempted) hustle. Anyway, I feel pretty confident I can do 200-odd miles tomorrow without worry.
    Meanwhile, state taxes were also no problem. Or they didn't seem to be. Maybe it will turn out that I did everything wrong and I'll get the Al Capone Suite at the Greybar Hilton. But everything seemed straightforward, within the context of being pretty complicated. I'm afraid that I'm suddenly starting to enjoy challenges instead of cringing from them. I think I have Tamara to thank and you know what? I think I'm going to thank her!

Federal taxes no big problem

    Although it was true that every "important tax document" I received generated another tax form, often two or three, the IRS website was very easy to negotiate and the process was actually kind of fun. Well, fun like assembling Ikea furniture is fun. In the end, I got everything together in plenty of time, but since we're a third world country now and post offices aren't open on Saturday, I had a bit of a challenge getting the materials mailed. Did that, too, though, and possibly some day a check will come.
    Meanwhile, people on the vacant lot next door were cutting trees all day long. I guess I was a little stressed. Dude knocked and asked permission to cut. I told him he'd have to talk to the landlord. They kept cutting. I'm afraid I snapped a bit and went out screaming. Turned out that they were from the power company; landlord would have been perfectly happy to let them cut. But it REALLY would have helped if the guy had said that in the first place. (Truck just said Trees Inc.) In the end, I think everyone was more or less happy, and I certainly apologized for screaming. Tax day not the ideal time for cutting trees all day.
    Somehow, I still have to do my state taxes. Enthusiasm is at very low ebb, especially as I'll need to cut them a check. Miss Amelia is agitating to go out of course. That's enough excuse for anybody, isn't it?

The Joy of Tax

    I'm kind of missing being poor. I called Great-West again, got the right person this time but since my bank was closed, had to have the fax sent to Office Depot. They charged-- get this-- $5 for two pages. I'm not sure I needed that instruction sheet that badly. But taxes are at least now possible.
    Possible is about the size of it. Every piece of paper I have received requires a different form to report it on. I feel great sympathy for Elizabeth Warren's crusade to simplify tax returns. I believe that I can print off all these forms, although my printer reports that it is of course running out of black ink. How late you open, H&R Block? I'm on my way!

Estate sale

    Sunday, Paul and I went to an estate sale in one of the finer homes of Wales Garden, in turn one of the finer neighborhoods in town. In general, we found the house a lot more interesting than the offerings. The house was pretty big, but seemed larger on the outside. As it was the last day, prices were half off and we were looking hard for a price tag on a wall for the entire house.
    What I mainly found is that I'm a big snob. There were Dick Francis books that I didn't have and due to the half-price sale, could have picked up for $1 each. I'd like to say that I didn't want to buy books that I knew came from a recently deceased person, but the truth is the fact that I didn't like his other books turned me off. "Maybe I'm wrong to be reading Dick Francis and John D. MacDonald!" a part of me seemed to be thinking. (He also had some MacDonalds, but none that I don't have already.) Not earth-shattering, I realize, but a very odd thing to find out about oneself. On the other hand, I had read the books in question already, and my Dick Francis reading seems to have slowed to a stop lately. So maybe it's more that it's a phase that's passed. I prefer to think so.
    Meanwhile, the fax from Great-West arrived at my bank, but it was the wrong form, the one for my dad. So unless I can get through at this hour (earlier in Colorado, of course), an extension is most likely in my future. Not the worst thing ever, but a little annoying.

Harry's best day

    Frankly, this is more suited to Facebook or even Twitter, but was so neat as to be almost moving. Harry the cat feels that all food in the world is his. As he never gets fat, maybe he's right. Maybe he has the metabolism to eat everything; I don't know.
    I've gotten in the habit of giving the cats a little sardine each every other day. This in addition to splitting two large cans of wet food a day between them. Now I've decided that they should have something overnight, on Tamara's advice. I got them a very very good dry cat food and left out a half cup in two bowls. I'm afraid Harry probably ate both. In future, I'll put him and his bowl outside. This is a benefit of springtime; you can do that without being mean. Anyway, Harry got his regular feed, a sardine, and probably all the kibble. A red letter day!
    In less fun news, I can't find my most important 1099 form. The company concerned is mailing it to me and they also said that they would fax it to my bank, but no such fax has materialized. Or no phone call alerting me of one has. So an extension may be in order. Bummer drag. Sorry IRS!

The weatherman is apologizing

    They do that a lot of course, like when it rains on weekends, or too much, or fails to snow, or snows too much, or anything of the sort. But apologizing for temperate, somewhat cloudy weather in a place where it's 900 degrees more than half of the time, well I think that might be unusually unnecessary. When is he going to apologize for the fry eggs on the sidewalk weather, I ask you! (Wait, I just did.)
    It's been a crazy lovely day. Even though I fed them late this morning, Amelia charged out and ate an entire blade of bordergrass, but then she ate her normal food and doesn't appear to have had any ill effects. Pretty odd, though. Now I get to see if an opening cat food can will draw them inside earlier than they want to come. Well it usually does. Someday soon I will do my taxes. (Oh don't worry; they're straightforward. If they turn out not to be, I know how to file an extension and I know good accountants.)

Miss Amelia and the rain

    Maybe I'm mistaken in thinking that Amelia hasn't experienced rain in person in ten years. Obviously it's rained a LOT since I started letting her out last year. But I think I've been careful not to let her go in the rain. Until today.
    Not that we're having a return of the flood waters. It hasn't been very hard at all, nor cold nor uncomfortable. But she's a cat! Not supposed to be a fan of the wet stuff. Experience teaches that she's definitely not a fan of baths. But she doesn't seem to mind it a lot. On the other hand, she just flashed me her devil eyes, something that shouldn't be possible unless it's a lot darker than it is out here. So I don't know; maybe letting her outside isn't such a good idea. Could it be Satan?
    Anyway, this was going to be a rumination on the costs of freedom. Into each cat's life, some rain must fall, or something like that. But she seems not to be counting the cost, and if anything digging it. As the porch overhang is protecting my laptop, I guess I'm digging it, too. But I wouldn't mind the sun coming back out either.

Dear Penthouse Forum

    Dear Penthouse Forum, I never thought it would happen to me. I met a woman, extremely attractive and intelligent and charming and funny, and she likes me. We're totally compatible: emotionally, physically, musically, culturally and sexually-- not that you'd be interested in that. I didn't have any point in particular; I just wanted to gloat. Isn't that what your publication is for?
    No, seriously (not that any of the above is untrue), this is about the guy down the street who wrote a novel. And he wanted me to read it and give it a review on Amazon. So I did the first but not the second. I told him two things: that the entire book read like a letter to Penthouse Forum; and that more importantly, while it was competently staged, what pissed me off was that I got to the last two paragraphs and THERE was the kernel for an interesting novel of ideas. Or a novel of interesting ideas, preferably. And I ran into him the other day and he had actually listened. He thought about it for months and now he's rewriting his novel along the lines I suggested. Now mind you it may turn out a Letter To Penthouse Forum Of Ideas. But still.

Always good news and bad news (or more TMI, cat edition)

    Not TMI by my usual standards, mind you. It's just that I finally am trying the fuller's earth cat litter. And the cats actually seem to prefer it. And it doesn't clump at all. Not a bit. OK, practically not at all. Not enough to notice. What to do, what to do? I guess so long as it doesn't stink of ammonia, I don't care too much. It's neat that it's so cheap. It would be neater if it worked as advertised. I guess with the loss of fuller as a trade, maybe folks are getting sloppier on what they call fuller's earth. I guess. I'll give it a week or so anyway. Darn it; and I was so thrilled to find the darn stuff. Well, at least I did and got to try it. (That's the good news part.)

Headed STRAIGHT for confession

    If you ever wanted to know what Hell is like, just try to change your Earthlink account. I've been paying them $22 per month for years for dial-up service. (OK, Dad paid them $22/mo for dial-up service for years; I've been paying it for a year or so.) This is ironic, since I haven't even had a land line for the last two or three of those years. But hey, I really like my cool email address.
    I had been meaning to correct this situation for ages, but month after month slid by and I never got around to it. This month however, I had a serious spur. My autopay setup uses my canceled debit card, and the new one won't arrive until after the billing date comes and goes. So I contacted Earthlink. God help me, I contacted Earthlink.
    I started with their Live Chat service and that worked great. Somebody identifying himself as Keith (SURE!) was totally helpful, telling me that I could switch to email service billing and save $14/mo. Unfortunately, he couldn't change my service through Live Chat, so I had to call Customer Service. Uh oh.
    No one will be surprised that I had to interact with computerized recorded voices. Unfortunately (there's that word again) I couldn't answer many of the required questions, not having dealt with Earthlink in ages. So I just kept yelling REPRESENTATIVE or ESCALATE until the computer got tired of it and finally delivered me to a person. The person, who also not surprisingly had a sub-continent accent, was able to see my account, confirm my account, put me on hold, and then shuffle me off to some other department the name of which I could never understand. After being on hold another unfathomable period ("Your call is very important to us..."), I got to talk to a gentleman also bearing a sub-continent accent who was in fact able to help. He didn't put me on hold; he just let me listen to nothing for minutes on end. But he did do the deed, so I'm grateful.
    BUT! When I noted that I didn't have a debit card for the moment and would need a paper bill, he told me that would be an extra $4. Then I asked for an email bill which I could pay by check and never really got an answer, possibly because I was sore annoyed at this point and noted that I had been paying them $22. for nothing for years and could he maybe comp me a month? And amazingly, he did! Go Indian guy! Then he had to read me off my account terms twice (go figure) and give me an Earthlink confirmation number. ("It will be very useful for you." "For what?" No answer.)
    This whole adventure took more than a half hour on the phone, plus the Live Chat. At the beginning of the phone call and on the website, Earthlink mentioned their award-winning customer service. I've been trying to imagine what award that could be. I'm thinking either one for hiring in Mumbai or something involving Old Nick. Has to be one or the other.

Will you quit?

    Amelia the cat has entered a new phase of demanding OUTSIDE at all times. She just whines endlessly, particularly fun when you're trying to deal with tax documents. These are still the taxes that I paid somebody else to do. Just wait until I'm actually trying to do my own!
    I get it, it's really pretty outside and it's boring inside. There's birds singing in every tree and squirrels to chase, and Harry is living the life of Riley outside. Also, I still suspect that she's having digestive difficulties and wants to find the right grass to eat to make it feel better. But she's driving me right up a tree. Tamara came over for a little while and was nice enough to go out with Amelia for a bit, but of course Amelia needs me there as a 160-lb security blanket. Hopefully she gets over this soon. We believe that she will love love love Tamara's fenced in back yard, and moreover be safe there. But I'd rather not have to live back there myself to make her feel safe. We'll just have to put up a big picture of me. That's the ticket!

Google, man, you know too much

    I was doing a search today. What I was searching, some, most or all of you might think of as TMI, so just say that it was the word "relationships." And before I had written the entire word, Google had suggested "Relationships between (my astrological sign and Tamara's)." Now my Facebook (and presumably Google+) accounts mention my birthday and my Facebook account mentions my relationship with Tamara. But I'm pretty sure that her account doesn't mention her birthday. Not being astrologically inclined, I've never searched relationships between my astrological sign and anybody's. So I have no idea why this would turn up as a top suggestion. Could be an astonishing coincidence of course. It might be that our two astrological signs are just the ultimate example of the two most compatible. (It do seem that way in real life!) But it just seems like somebody at the Googleplex knows a little too much. And speaking of too much, if anyone wants to know what I actually searched, just email. TMI is still my favorite!

Taxes and that other thing

    Apologies if I've used that subject line already; I've been doing this a while. I hired somebody to do the taxes for Dad, his estate, and succeeding trusts. There is no way to describe what a relief this was. I'm pretty bright and could have worked my way through it all most likely, but the sturm und drang would have been more or less limitless. (Death, taxes, storm and stress.) Of course, I hope I feel the same way when I get the bill, which should be very, very shortly. Well at least Dad has a refund coming; that'll help!
    Ms. Amelia still insists on going outside as much as possible, tricky since we're having another cool snap. It seems like taking her out just before what's usually feeding time is a pretty slick approach. It's a lot easier to get her back in this way!

Butterflieses

    It's still April, but I'm worried about the butterflies. I'd swear that in other years, I would be chasing after many butterflies by now. Unsuccessfully mind you, but they were at least there. I'm worried that the flood may have drowned the crysalises (or whatever the plural is) or swept them away. Probably silly, and probably not a big problem since butterflies fly and thus ones from neighboring areas will spread to replace any lost riverine ones. But I'm checking Facebook's On This Day feature every day for the onset of butterfly pictures I posted in past years. I got one today, but it was just a red-spotted purple. I want my zebra swallowtails, darn it!

The rebellion spreads!

    You know, the usual thing: sittin' on my porch with my kitties, bloggin'. It's darned nearly the nicest day ever and Amelia spent the morning begging to be let out and I spent the morning declining. Meanwhile, Tamara reports that the chihuahuas having been let out were highly resistant to coming back in. Cats and dogs probably plotted this when they were together the other day! What's next? I'm thinking flying cats and chihuahuas giving wedgies!
    Meanwhile at the gas station, a fella accosted me with "I'm a winner!" I couldn't see any evidence of this, but congratulated him all the same. He was giving the guy behind the counter some kind of business about having given him $20, but I couldn't figure it out at all. The guy behind the counter just cheerfully shrugged and took my money for gas. The winner went out with a friend. It's just possible that he had been drinking. I've got to start going into gas station quick stop shops more often! (This trip was a function of still waiting for my new debit card to be delivered. I keep forgetting that 7 to 10 business days is different than 7 to 10 days. Ah well.)

Must get new glasses!

    South Carolina has new license tags. They are singularly unimpressive and feature a very hard to read slogan. I made it out as "Wide Beaches & More." What's worse, I posted this on Facebook. The actual slogan is the state motto, "While I Breathe, I hope." Ooops! This was my point though; the slogan is almost impossible to read and the tags look amateurish. Also they started at M instead of A. Apparently, the alphabet works differently up in here. Well who wouldn't have guessed?
    Mr. Harry has more or less recovered from yesterday's chihuahua invasion, but it was touch and go for a little while there. I thought his spirit was broken, but he's more or less back to his combative self, and chatty and hungry again. I'm sure future interactions with the micro dogs will be less scarring for him. Anyway, he can live outside until next winter, which will no doubt help.

It's NOT funny!

    We are SO not laughing! Tamara brought both chihuahuas over this time instead of just one. When she just brought Lucy, older and calmer, the cats were puzzled but not in any way alarmed. With Zoey (Zuzu) as well (younger, crazier, more exuberant), well I don't know what happened. Neither Harry nor Amelia seemed in any way alarmed or scared. However, they wouldn't eat with these strangers around, or not much. And Harry wouldn't come in or out with chihuahuas in the way. Feisty, indomitable Harry, petrified of dogs smaller than he is. We TOTALLY are not laughing. Oh hell, yes we are!
    I eventually closed Harry and then later Amelia in the bathroom so they could eat in peace. I have items large enough to blockade the kitchen and did so, but neither would eat while they could see or hear chihuahuas. Hey, it's a first visit and a first time and I'm sure that everything will go a lot more smoothly sooner rather than later. They're really nice dogs and Harry and Amelia are sure to notice that yes, in fact, we're a lot bigger than they are. Now the rabbits might be another story... (But I'm sure that meeting will go well, too.)

The rebellion continues

    I've been letting Amelia out a LOT the past couple of days since the forecast said that weather would be really bad last night and today. I haven't given her any crap about chomping on the vegetation either. This morning at 6, she coughed up a major hairball (thoughtfully on the bathroom floor). I was hoping that that was the inspiration for all the agitation to go outside and the vegetation chomping.
    However, Little Miss Little Miss Little Miss Can't Be Wrong still insists on going out in spite of a tornado watch and the fact that it's feeding time, so I'm giving her another pre-tornado visit outside. Thus I'm writing my SECOND front porch blog entry, but my first tornado watch one. (It isn't really a tornado watch, although there was one for most of the day in all the counties south and west of here.) However, I want very badly to go see my sweetheart right now, so both the blog entry and the outdoor interlude are ending, right now. Well, right NOW.

Chihuahuas and kitties disapprove

    We are tending toward going vegetarian, possibly even vegan. I'm not sure why on Tamara's part; I'm not absolutely sure why on my part. We just are. Dogs and cats tend to want to steal human food. We warn them: you aren't going to like this! Tamara's senior chihuahua Lucy gave a taste to her vegan pasta last night (complete with dairy-free soy-free gluten-free Beyond Beef); Lucy was not best pleased.
    Since I put onions in everything, which cats cannot eat, the change doesn't make much difference on the feline end. This is probably lucky. Dogs are generalists like us. Cats are obligate predators. So nice people who try to make cats into vegetarians are making a mistake. This means that we might go vegan some day, but our dogs and cats are not likely to. No doubt the bunnies have mixed feelings.
    Ms. Amelia has commanded OUTSIDE. As she is dowager empress of Olympia, I have complied. (The fact that it's supposed to rain from midnight on for about 24 hours might also have some bearing.) So for the first time I can remember, I'm out on the porch typing this while I maintain feline surveillance. I'm glad I have reached a stopping point anyway, as a jail break appears to be being contemplated as I type. Uh oh!

C'mon, Dollar Tree!

    For decades, I've been looking for Tastykake fruit pies down here. They are a favorite in Philadelphia, also said to be available in New Jersey and South Florida, but not in between. There are many Tastykake products available in supermarkets here, but never the fruit pies.
    The other day in Dollar Tree, I found them. Mind you, it's years since I ate gluten, or high-fructose corn syrup, so it was more of a nostalgia rush to see them again. They're in bags these days instead of cartons, but I won't be sampling them to see if there's a difference. The problem was that I was in Dollar Tree looking for the previously mentioned fuller's earth kitty litter, and I couldn't find any.
    That was the moment when I was going to change the litter boxes. When I couldn't find the stuff I wanted at Dollar Tree, I just stayed with the stuff I've been using. Then the next Dollar Tree I looked in had the kitty litter but not the Tastykake pies. Really, I was just curious; I wasn't going to cheat with them! I was actually looking at this point for some kind of welcome mat or front door runner to prevent Amelia from destroying the carpet around the front door. At Family Dollar, I found the mat and I also found more fuller's earth kitty litter, also for $1.
    The point of all this whiffling is that I find it odd that inventory varies so much from store to store at Dollar Tree. Not shocking or anything; inventory varies somewhat from store to store at Publix, too. And also, it does finally appear that if I decide to change my kitty litter, I will have a steady supply of the cheap stuff. Now I just have to decide.

Charlotte adventure, card edition

    I can tell you now (could probably tell you before, but showed discretion) that we went to Charlotte because one of Tamara's rabbits was dying, that it takes a vet with special training to put a rabbit to sleep, and that the closest one on Saturday afternoon was in Charlotte. It was a sad, sad day, and Tamara is still sad to lose Grace, but we made do. One has to eat, so we determined at least to eat well, and as I said ate at a wonderful Colombian rotisserie chicken place called Pio Pio. However, by that evening, I found that my debit card had stayed at Pio Pio. By the time I learned this, they were closed. Next morning, I talked to the bank, and they recommended cancelling my cards (I had a duplicate, with which I bought gas when I found out that card #1 was missing) and they would send a new one. Bank lady confirmed that there had been no transactions other than the ones I had made, though. I made an ATM run and then the deed was done.
    Since then, we ate the leftovers, which were if anything even better than at the restaurant. Thus we are definitely absolutely going back, if not sooner then when we see Steely Dan and Steve Winwood in July. But I suspect we'll pay in cash...

Further perils to gluten-free living

    Of course, I've blogged about this already, so the "further" is unnecessary, but it had a nice rhythm. "Unexpected" had one syllable too many and anyway the fact that I've blogged about it before makes that word not terribly applicable either. This is about licking envelopes. There's usually gluten in the envelope glue, so celiacs aren't supposed to lick them. As most billing parties provide return envelopes and often there's even coding preprinted on them which supposedly speeds them on their way, I generally just use them, moistening the flap with a damp paper towel.
    However, sometimes there is no envelope and if I have to go buy some, I prefer the self-closing kind with the strip of paper you pull off of the glue. I bought some at Staples a while back (and whined, moaned and blogged about it) and today, having finally run out of those, tried out Office Depot. The latter didn't have any small packages of envelopes (I don't use many) but what they did have was a sale. So I could have gotten 50 envelopes for $17, 45 for $10, or 100 for $7. As I recall, the expensive ones were the non-security type and the cheaper ones were the security type. Go figure. So although 100 envelopes is likely to be a lifetime supply for me, I went for the latter. I know that this is nothing earth-shattering. I was just bewildered by the crazy array of prices. And pleased to be able to make it work for me.

Sucking up to the General Assembly, permanently

    Almost twenty years ago, I was volunteering for the Center for Environmental Policy at the Institute of Public Affairs of the University of South Carolina. (Whew!) This was located in a university building called Carolina Plaza, which had previously been a high-rise motel called the Carolina Inn. For a year there, the SC General Assembly (legislature) were there with us, as the State House was being renovated, complete with turning the green copper dome shiny again, however briefly. (Just don't ask.)
    There was a certain irony in this, because Carolina Inn was home to a bar where many sleazy political deals were, uh, consummated. Regardless, the Department of Transportation, or possibly the city, decided that they didn't want any unhappy legislators, so they retimed the light at Pendleton and Assembly to turn red for Assembly a LOT, allowing pedestrians to cross often.
    Carolina Plaza is long gone, the pols have gone back to their natural home, and that light still turns red for no reason, traffic calming or traffic-related, all the time. This includes this Easter morning before 8 in the morning. They could of course have just put in a button allowing pedestrians to request a crossing; we had that technology in the '90s. But no; politicians can't wait that long. Well, it IS called Assembly Street, I guess. I'll just have to develop patience against annoyances I can't control or figure a better route. But it IS awfully annoying.

Some things work out

    For sad reasons that I'm not going to mention, we suddenly had to go to Charlotte. I didn't know how long I would be gone nor when I'd be able to feed the cats. Normally, I feed them four times a day, twice in the morning and twice in the afternoon. This was noonish, hours before either afternoon feeding. I solved this by giving them all their afternoon food at once, and solved the problem of Harry tending to eat it all by leading him outside with his food first, leaving Amelia inside with her food. They ate it all and neither seems to have suffered any ill effects.
    After the sad part, we found ourselves in a major city with a wealth of interesting restaurants to choose from and more appetite than we expected. We went to a Latin place, seemingly Colombian, specializing in rotisserie. It is called Pio Pio and we highly recommend the chicken. Also the jalapeno sauce. Not that there was anything wrong with anything else, but those two things were insane. Chicken tender beyond belief. So even though the reasons were sad, we had about as nice a time as you can have under the circumstances. Cats have been rewarded for being relatively good with an extra small can of cat food.

Them allergies

    Hmmmmmm. As I spend less time here and more time at Tamara's, my allergies are clearing up. My nearly stopped up right ear mysteriously opened up without resort to peroxide or other remedy. My breathing is a little touch and go, but I think that may be because I keep going on long walks without remembering to bring my water. In other words, I'm just a little dehydrated.
    Now Tamara has three bunnies and two chihuahuas. If my allergy were to animal dander in general, it would probably be worse over at her place. That it isn't suggests either that I'm specifically allergic to cat dander or to the darn darn darn kitty litter. I think it got better when I switched from the clay kitty litter to the sawdust one, but not a lot. I'm still planning to try the fuller's earth litter. I hope that will improve things. At some point, I'll definitely be living some place larger, which will help more.
    What it all means, of course, is that a person with common sense would give up the kitties, but I have never been that person. I love the rotten stinkies. Long ago, somebody told me that if I was allergic, I was crazy to shorten my life living with cats. I don't mind being that kind of crazy. Also know how to buy Benadryl.

Yes, Virginia, there is, isn't, might be or couldn't possibly be a Santa Claus

"Dear Google,
    I am an eight-year-old girl. My name is Virginia. My friends say that there is no Santa Claus but I don't believe them. I believe in Santa, but they are making me wonder. My Pa says that if you see it in the Google, it's so. So tell me, Google, is there a Santa Claus?"
"Dear Virginia,
    Yes there is definitely a Santa Claus. Wait, there is absolutely no chance that there is a Santa Claus because it would be physically impossible for one being, no matter how quick his reindeer are, to visit all the homes in the world in one evening even if he only limited himself to the Christian ones where the little boys and girls had all been good. No hang on, as long as a child believes, there is certainly a Santa Claus. That whole North Pole thing just has to go, though; not only is there no land there, there's hardly even any ice there anymore! Also they prefer to be called little people. Also the flying reindeer thing? Please! Also Rudolph should probably cut down on his drinking. But back to your question, Virginia: of COURSE there is a Santa Claus! And you can just ignore all those hits about the 5th century bishop from Asia Minor. It's definitely a big fat guy in a red suit. And I know what you're going to ask next! If you don't have a chimney, he can get in anyway! Santa has many, many, many skills. What else does he have to do 364 days of the year but learn lock-picking, I ask you?!
    So Virginia, tell all your little friends 'Ha ha, you're wrong!' There is definitely, absolutely, unquestionably a Santa Claus, unless there isn't. Next time though, ask Siri. She'll tell you all about a Tim Allen movie!"

And the search resumes

    A year or so ago, as I most likely blogged about incessantly, Aldi introduced a gluten-free bread that was unprecedented. It tasted good. It had nice, soft texture. It-- well, I don't have a toaster, but I suspect that it toasted well. Anyway, it made a neat grilled fake cheese sandwich. At the time, I googled the ingredient list and found that it was from a British Columbian company called Western Family. Their website is pretty near impenetrable to me (might need the keyword "eh") but I gather that they're a supermarket chain out there. I had searched against the inevitable day when Aldi would change their mind (as they always do) and get a different supplier or discontinue the item altogether.
    They did. Their gluten-free bread is in nearly the same packaging but now comes from Ireland. Same old stuff: bad texture, dry, tastes like soil. Western Family's site hasn't gotten a lot more comprehensible (eh) but I don't imagine that they're in the mail order business. Searching Western Family gluten-free bread amazon got me nowhere as well. So I guess the search resumes. What stinks about it is that I had accepted that there is no good gluten-free bread and had learned to live without sandwiches. Now that I've found that it's possible, it's markedly harder to go back to a sandwichless life. Just got to move to Vancouver!

No one here gets out alive

    I had been having "Five To One" by the Doors running through my head pretty consistently, particularly when I was with Tamara. This could be a little alarming, since the most salient lines in the song are the subject line above and "We want the world and we want it... now? NOW!!!!" But no, nothing like that. I finally figured out that it was running through my head just because Jim says "Love my girl" in it a lot. Although we DO want the world and we want it now as well. But then, maybe we already have it.

A reappraisal

    Mind you, I will never be a fan of retailers offering MVP programs, preferred customer programs, or anything of the type. Just lower your prices for everybody is always my advice. However, I finally figured out what the clerk at Pet Supplies Plus was trying to tell me when I got peeved and blogged about it the other week. The idea is that if I give them my Pet Supplies Plus Preferred Pet card (I swear I'm not making this up) every time I buy regardless of whether or not there's a discount, then they'll know what I'm buying and put it on discount more frequently. And of course, the only drawback to doing so is getting an email that I don't want and can easily ignore. That in turn only annoys me because I repeatedly told their site ONLY ONE EMAIL PER MONTH. This, however, reflects more on the central office in Michigan than anyone here.
    Still, what annoys me about these programs in general is that the companies are enlisting me without pay to do their market research for them. As such, I have a feeling that they would get better cooperation if they gave a $1 discount on every Preferred Pet card transaction above and beyond any sales prices. Then they could even send me email about it every time. Are you listening Pet Supplies Plus?

Shenanigans

    Oh nothing. I just thought it was funny. I feed the cats four times a day, not because I'm so nice but because it seems to work best. I generally give them the first of the afternoon feedings when I get back any time between 3:30 and 5:30. Today, it was like 4:30. Both cats had been inside all afternoon. So Harry ran out as soon as I got back. Then he realized where the food is, so when I opened the door again, he ran right back in again. Hard to describe, I realize, but pretty comical at the time.
    Shouldn't an English sci fi show be called Dr. Whom instead?

Wish granted, kitty litter edition

    Earlier I remarked that I would like to find old original Kitty Litter, which is to say sand and fuller's earth. Knock me over with a pin when I find at Dollar Tree (where everything is a dollar) seven-pound bags of kitty litter made from fuller's earth from Virginia. I am sorely tempted. Finding reliable reviews has been tricky; the Internet being what it is, the few reviews I could find might easily have been put up by the manufacturer. Still, the "I don't believe I found this at Dollar Tree!" aspect adds a degree of verisimilitude. Caveats that come to mind: fuller's earth is still clay, and clay is hard to breathe for cats and people; the bags seem small so seven pounds may not go so far. Still, it's extra neat to find something I was looking for at a very low place in the last place I would have expected to find it. Even if I never buy any, SCORE!

True loved killed the bloggery star

    Hey, it's an entry, right?!

ROCK AND ROLL FOREVER!!!

    So, the Moody Blues show. First, dinner at the Good Life Cafe was great. Tamara liked my manicotti and I gave her the leftovers for lunch today, so yay! Telling the servers that we had a show to get to got us out the door in plenty of time. Although the Moodies didn't start quite on time, they were surprisingly close to it. Old pros, they are!
    We loved being on the floor in the fifth row towards the center except... we couldn't hear them well. It seems like the big speakers hanging above were projecting right over us and we were listening to the stage sound. They were very nice Marshall amps and all, but not that loud. If you've ever been to a rock concert in your life, you're familiar with the vibration running through your entire body and the ringing in your ears after. Nothing like that here. Operationally, what it meant was that it would have been a perfect show (since the Moodies were just absolutely flat great) if everybody had sat in their seats and listened attentively like it was an orchestra concert. But rock and roll fans don't do that.
    The people behind us sang along louder than Justin Hayward, yelled "MOODY BLUES!" frequently ("Very good! You know where you are! Here's a cookie.") and "ROCK AND ROLL FOREVER!!!" some 45 times. All of this would be normal rollicking rock show good times if it hadn't drowned out the actual band. After an hour, the Moodies took an intermission and wise Tamara went off to get us glasses of white wine so we wouldn't punch anyone. She also asked the people behind us if they were having trouble hearing the band, because we were. ("ROCK AND ROLL FOREVER!!!" he said.) One lady said she had hearing aids-- AND ear plugs. It's possible that they behaved better in the second part of the show; it's possible that the wine just kicked in. (We were dancing a bit during the boogie-woogie part of "Tuesday Afternoon" and earplug lady clapped me on the shoulder for some reason.) What's sure is that we won't be paying for another show at the Township Auditorium again. Or if we do, we won't bother to be down on the floor. I won tickets for the Jackson Browne show, postponed to late May. The noisy people also mentioned that they would be there, too. FOLKY SOLO FOREVER!!!

It's fun to eat at the GOOD LIFE CAFE!

    I had deep things to delve into here, but since we're going to the Moody Blues tonight and like them, I should probably catch a nap, I'll be quick and inconsequential instead. Subject line follows on my brain's recent trend to see if EVERYTHING can be made into a Village People number. First there was turning Happy Birthday into In The Navy, now this version of YMCA. We're eating at the Good Life Cafe before the show, in case you couldn't guess. I'll be interested in Tamara's reaction. Everything is vegan and raw (although dried apparently is permissible) and everything on the menu sounds perfectly ordinary, like hamburger and pizza. When you order one of these things without forewarning, you're very surprised. The only item that particularly resembles the name on the menu is manicotti and it's a fair stretch. Everything is very good, though. I've tried at various times to move Drinking Liberally there, but faced rebellion every time. No chicken wings, no DL, apparently. Pity. Ok! Moodies tonight! Yes!

Truth to tell

    To tell the truth, Historic Columbia Canal and Riverfront Park, blogged about yesterday and reopened today, is a pretty terrible park. Planners didn't much think through the need for shade in this climate and you have to walk under high-tension power lines for a significant distance. The best part is the very farthest end and the entrance and parking area for that end are still closed. The most fun part are the little islands in the middle of the Broad River and they largely washed away in the flood. But I was thrilled beyond words to be back there and in no way disappointed when I left, hours later. I was not the only person to return today and was not the only one best pleased; the dogs seemed particularly thrilled. The far end entrance and parking area didn't seem structurally damaged; there were a gazillion sandbags awaiting assignment in the parking area. Perhaps why that's why it's still closed. It doesn't seem like it will be a terribly long wait for it to reopen. There is the shade problem, but it's a lot shadier at that end.
    I have a lot of memories of Canal Park, many great and some sad, but I was entirely pleased to be back there. I'm not sure, but it looked a lot like they had moved the high tension power lines, or at least some power lines, away from the trail for a distance. So that's a plus too. The canal is not as high as it used to be, but not as sad looking as it was after the flood (and dam breach). On the whole, the city is to be saluted for getting it up and running and open again. Sa-LUTE!

I didn't even get to blog about it!

    I had been getting around to doing a blog entry about this. Walking in Granby Park, I saw the cleanup guys using a golf cart marked Columbia Riverfront Park. That park has been closed since the big flood in October. The non-life-threatening but most dramatic looking part of the flood was the breach of the dam at Columbia Canal. Series of breaches, really. And Columbia Canal is the focus of the Riverfront Park. Even though I fully understood that that park is closed and they might as well keep using the equipment in the parks that are still open, I was more than a little sad. And so it is with great glee that I note that the golf cart can go home, that they're reopening Columbia Riverfront Park TOMORROW!!! The newspaper inexplicably ran a headline that more parts of the park will be open, but there's no indication that any part has been open since the flood. I was about to run over and check, but subsequent edits left out the "more parts" part. I can wait. I can hardly wait. As I keep saying, it'll be good to be home.

No matter how many times it happens...

    Every Sunday, a local station picks up the rebroadcast of American Top 40 from the 1980s. This means that for a large portion of the year, there's a 1 in 10 chance that they'll play a show from 1983 when I wasn't yet back from junior year abroad and for a small part of the year, it's a 1 in 10 chance that they'll play a show from 1982 when I set off there. And no matter how many times it happens (for instance, right now), I'm infinitely amused how many of the songs I don't know, or at least never remember hearing on top 40 radio. Of course, the fact that most of them are bilge kind of sucks some of the fun out of it, but also in a way adds quite a lot back, too.
    In actual '82-'83, I mostly listened to tapes, ones I had brought and ones I bought, and then got into King Crimson's then-current work. (All Terry's fault.) Later, when I had a girlfriend, we listened to BBC1 much more than we should have ("Knock it on the 'ead, mate!") but I remember little except for a lot of Culture Club. Oh and "Come On Eileen." Nothing but "Come On Eileen," and more of the same as soon as I got home. Oh well, it was a small price to pay for a crazy good time.