Thursday, May 31, 2007

Just a regular roast beef sandwich, please

I had lunch at Arby's in Conway, Arkansas yesterday. I like beef; I like Arby's. I'm a fan of the roast beef and cheddar sandwich (with bacon, sometimes). I'd had breakfast yesterday, which is unusual, so I wasn't terribly hungry. My plan was simple: Order regular roast beef sandwich, drink bottle of water in van, return to work.

I visited the Arby's -- a brand new facility in a strip mall. My cashier was Ed, a developmentally disabled adult.

Ed: Hello, welcome to Arby's, my name is Edward. People call me Ed. They say Ed is cooler than Edward. Can I take your order?
Me: Yes, thank you Ed, I'd like a regular roast beef sandwich to go, please.
Ed: Yes sir, that'll be a regular roast-beef sandwich. Are you working today? Would you like some fries with that?
Me: Yeah, I'm working today -- right down the road.
Ed: Great! So, that's a regular roast beef sandwich with fries. You wanted curly fries, right? How 'bout a drink? So, are you from out of town?
Me: Yes, I'm from out of town. I've got some water in the van.
Ed: So, that's a large roast-beef combo with curly fries. That's a nice phone -- does it take pictures? Would you like a cherry turnover with your meal?
Me: No, uh, yeah, it's a picture phone. I take lots of pictures.
Ed: Wonderful, that's really neat. So that's a large roast beef combo with curly fries and a cherry turnover. Your total is $7.71.

To summarize: I wanted a regular roast beef sandwich -- that's all. I ended up with a large roast beef sandwich, curly fries, a drink, and a cherry pie/turnover thing.

Someone is teaching Ed the delicate art of up-selling -- and he's learning well.

One might speculate that Ed was exploiting my reluctance to challenge him due to his developmental disability to sell me more food. If that is the case, Ed is pretty sharp. I won't go there.

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Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Amazing, Amazing, Amazing...

"Amazing. Amazing. Amazing." That's all I could say tonight as I dined at Mike's Place in Conway, Arkansas. I sent out a broadcast text message to my friends saying just that, "Amazing, it's worth the drive just to eat here." It's four and a half hours from home. I could easily justify that.

The decor is pretty neat; nothing terribly eclectic. Very warm, lots of wood, brick, and some traditional paintings on the walls. There were some romantic niches, and some open banqueting areas. On the whole, the place could best be described as "cavernous". The place is FREAKIN HUGE. I couldn't believe it when I walked inside. They were packed; on a Tuesday night; huge restaurant; barely any tables. They stuck me in a back corner and I was glad to have a chair.

The service was excellent. My waiter, Josh, is 30 years old and is from Conway. He's been working at the restaurant since it opened. The same company that owns Mike's Place is opening another restaurant, more directly Italian themed, and Josh will be the General Manager there, he said. He was attentive, polite, knowledgeable, and stayed out of the way unless I needed something. There were a few times when my water glass became empty and stayed that way longer than I would have liked (I'm a heavy drinker when I eat, you know), but he was serving several tables and it wasn't a big deal. I can't stress enough how confident and excellent the service was.

I had, as an appetizer, their "Shrimp and Cheese Fritters". They surely must have been made in-house. I can't imagine a prepared food company supplying something like that. Amerigo (the chain Italian place) has something similar, but not the same. These were a bit spicy, full of good, smooth cheese, and the shrimp added that "little something extra".

For my main course, Josh recommended that I try a platter -- which allowed me to pick two of the regular entrées (smaller portions) and two of their side dishes which they call "lagniappe". Lagniappe means "an unexpected gift" or a "little more" in Louisiana French. I chose the Crawfish and Shrimp Étouffée and the Blackened Chicken Alfradeaux with Red Peppers. As my sides I had Red Beans and Rice and some Sweet Potato Fries. The Étouffée was excellent -- plenty of flavor and taste, but not too spicy (some people like it spicy, I don't). The pasta was very good, chicken well flavored, good pasta. The beans and rice were also excellent. The Sweet Potato Fries were a bit disappointing, but I didn't know what to expect. It may have been that I was eating highly flavored food and the sweet fries just couldn't compete with the onslaught of other tastes in my mouth. Oh, and the "small portions" were HUGE.

It was obvious that almost none of the food came from a prepared food vendor (or if it did, it was very high quality). It appeared that the dishes had been prepared on site and to exacting standards. The quality of the food, again, was EXCEPTIONAL.

My bill, tax and all, was $26.44.

The only mistake I made today was eating lunch, I couldn't even think about dessert.

I've eaten at some great places; five-star restaurants and holes-in-the-wall. This is far and away the most amazing random restaurant into which I've ever stumbled. It is WORTH THE DRIVE to Conway, Arkansas to eat at Mike's Place. If you can find a play or a concert, go for it, but don't wait -- make some plans now to dine with these guys.


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Monday, May 28, 2007

"Thinning hair"

My bald spot
I went to a dinner party a few months ago and noticed in some of the pictures (most of the pictures were embarrassing) that my bald spot is spreading. Yes. I have a receding hairline -- and I think that's sexy an a bit distinguished. The bald spot bothers me. I'm not terribly self-concious about ANYTHING -- you know that, but this isn't the first picture that the spot has jumped out at me.

Probably three years ago -- at the lake -- Tori first pointed out my thinning spot; Patrick and I were comparing hairlines (he's known as "the human forehead" in some circles) and Tori said, "Oooo, look, Nathan's got a bald spot." I thought nothing of it -- it was early in the morning and none of us had showered or primped (we never did on lake mornings). I figured it was just the way my hair was laying that morning. Somewhere in the last few years it's grown.

I asked the lady who cuts my hair about it a few weeks ago -- had she noticed it. "Yes, Nathan, you've always had fine thick hair, but there is a 'weak' spot developing." I asked my Mom about it -- why hadn't she told me, "I thought you knew," she said, "and besides, both your grandfathers were bald by their early thirties." EGAD! Early thirties! Bald Spot! Why didn't someone tell me!!!!!!



I give up
Originally uploaded by churl.
So, I was talking with a friend of mine the other day -- as she was spiking my hair, I think -- and I asked HER about the bald spot. "Yes, Nathan, it's there." She giggled -- not about the bald spot, hopefully, but because she was about to make me look like a punk-wanna-be or something. "What am I to do?" I asked. "You could shave your head -- or get some Rogaine."

Alright. That's an answer I can live with. I like to fix things. If I have a flat tire, I patch it with fix-a-flat or get a new tire. If I have an itch, I put some cream on it. If I have a bald spot, I can smear some foam on it. I mentioned it to my parents, "I'd like some Rogaine (and a tandem bicycle) for my birthday."

Tonight, before I left the house, my mother gave me some Rogaine foam in a sack, "Here son, I got this for you." My cousin Jimmy shared an uplifting joke before I walked out the door:

Son, people say a men whose hair is thinning up front are great THINKERS. You know men whose hair is thinning in back are great LOVERS. If it's thinning in front and in back it means you THINK you're a great LOVER.
He cackled. I smirked. I'm thinning in the back; draw your own conclusions.

I'm going to make my first application to my "warm dry scalp" tonight before bed. I'll let you know.

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Autoharps and "music"


My cousin James W. Harrison ("Jimmy") brought me an Autoharp a month or two ago. I'd told him that I wanted to learn to play the guitar so he brought TWO guitars and this handy little rhythm instrument made my Oscar Schmidt.

I've not mastered the guitar yet. I'm working on it -- not nearly hard enough, probably. The Autoharp, however, is a dream to play. I think knowing something about music if helpful -- chords and such, but I suspect anyone could learn given the time. Mother Maybelle Carter is the best known player, I think, but there are many more.

So, I'm playing the thing fairly regularly. I copied some pages from one of Lindsay's bluegrass books and can play all of them. I've got some Hank Williams, Sr. books that are lots of fun.

My reviews, however, are mixed. Justin says I'm doing great (and that makes me feel good). The few times I've played for my parents, they just want me to sing along -- I don't think they know the songs. Lindsay just laughs (which hurts a bit, I think, but maybe she's laughing for joy at my talent -- yeah, that's it).

Here's a rough sample... What do you think? (Just hit the play button.)

Justin and I have played in church once and just messed around with the AutoHarp and Piano a few times. I'd like to get a string band of some sort together. I need a guitar player and a banjo picker. I think the undertaker from Rutherford would probably play upright bass, if I asked him. Lindsay doesn't seem very receptive to fiddle playing, but perhaps someone (other than me) could work on her.

I'd never heard of an Autoharp (or at least thought of one more than a second) before seeing the movie Walk The Line. What are/were your impressions? Lots of people seem to think it's an instrument for grade-school teachers (and I know several that do play), but isn't really a serious instrument.

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She doesn't deserve you


I was in the midst of a conversation tonight where one friend said to another, among other things, "She doesn't deserve you." It was a funny conversation, filled with expletives not appropriate for this venue, but it got me to thinking about that statement.

"She doesn't deserve you"

So, is that a good things -- as in, "You're too good for her, she doesn't deserve you"? That's a positive and uplifting statement meant to make the man or woman feel good himself or herself.

Or, is it a bad thing, as in, "You're crazy nuts, she doesn't deserve [someone like] you"? That's funny -- honesty from one friend to another.

That makes me think of the quote form Oliver Wendell Holmes from his work The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table:
Don't flatter yourself that friendship authorizes you to say disagreeable things to your intimates. The nearer you come into relation with a person, the more necessary do tact and courtesy become. Except in cases of necessity, which are rare, leave your friend to learn unpleasant things from his enemies; they are ready enough to tell them.
Of course, later in the conversation, I heard, "You deserve better." Which clarified the conversation a bit. I laughed inside; I thought it best to keep my thoughts to myself.


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Thursday, May 24, 2007

More on "Wagon Wheel"

Old Crow Medicine ShowI know I've already blogged today, but I was reading a bit about Old Crow and found this link to a recent blog about the song "Wagon Wheel" released by Old Crow.

Talking with Tim and Chad (who I mentioned in my previous entry today) about the song last night, none of us could remember the story behind the song. We knew that Old Crow had most recently made the song famous, but we also knew that in fact, it was a cover of someone else's song. Chad was convinced that it was Alison Kraus and Tim agreed with him -- probably to get him to shut up. I knew that wasn't right, but I couldn't remember the story. Now, thanks to the miracle of the interweb, we find the true story on the Nine Bullets blog. Yeah. It's a Bob Dylan song which he never completed for a move I've never seen. Oh well....

The neatest thing about that link, though, is that they're offering several different versions of the song for download. If you'd like a copy of these different versions and can't download for some reason, let me know. I'll divshare them to you... Cool beans!

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"Wagon Wheel" and Destin Nights

Another day in the sunMy day has become pretty standard: I sleep until around 11, hit the beach at about noon, return to the condo at about 3, eat supper around 5:30 and I'm at the Village (clubs) by 9:15 or so.

My favorite hangout has been Mango's Paradise Grille, a neat little outdoor cantina at "the Village". They've got live music each night and the brew selection is outstanding. I've managed to make it through all the drafts and I'm working my way through the bottles now. I'm hoping to have sampled their entire menu by the time I leave. The wait staff their is friendly, the owner is great, and the crowd is as diverse as I could imagine.

Bartenders at Mango'sMy bartenders since Sunday have either been Haley or Charles (click the pic to the left for a larger one). Haley is from Auburn, Alabama, Charles is from everywhere, apparently. They're engaged to be married, have a neat little condo not far from here, and work two or three jobs each. Haley and Charles love the Destin life. I dunno if I could put up with a bunch of tourist drunks 7 days a week, but they seem to be just fine. It's probably a personality thing that I just don't have; after about 7 hours, I had little patience for drunk buttholes when I was on Beale Street.

The owner of the place is a guy named Keith and his wife, Shelly. I met them last year when the place first opened. Keith owns some sort of steel fabricating place in Atlanta, but he and Shelly's dream was to open a restaurant and bar on the beach -- last year they made it a reality. I think Keith's main motivation, in addition to making his wife happy, was to find a place they'd let him sing anytime he wanted. I found out this week that the guy is an amazing vocalist.

Along the way I've met some other interesting folks. You're not surprised, if you know me, I'm sure:

Dwayne: The 29 year old Australian Spa Consultant. Dwayne travels the world consulting at 5 star spas and resorts. He and I got into some pretty great trouble the other night after we left Mango's. Remind me to tell you about it. Not quite the highlight of my trip, but it was certainly a great boost for the evening.

Justin: 30 something Navy guy -- he's taking a bomb disposal class at Pensacola Naval Air Station. He's been all over the middle east and has got some serious stories to tell. He was most interested in talking to me, however, about the "Purple Church" in Memphis. He was really bummed out to hear that it had closed. We swapped some stories.

Tina and Shelia: Mother and daughter. As Shelia said, "Mom bought a pair and so did I!" Tina likes to dance. Shelia likes to dance. We got along well. Shelia's tube-top made things interesting -- and she had one of those pony-tails that sticks out the back of her cap which I think are so cute. I wish I had a picture (oh how I wish I had a picture!). Tina kept grabbing my butt. That was strange and slightly unnerving.

Jerry: 70 something year old real-estate investment guy -- he was with Tina, but seemed more interested in Shelia. Me too. He's got property all up and down the gulf-coast. I bet I know what Tina sees in him.

Paula: The 25 year old "Turtle Girl" from FSU. She was coming up the beach on Tuesday with probes and shovels and all sort of stuff. I didn't know if she was trying to set up a beach volley-ball course or set up a landing field for aliens. I discovered, on asking, that she was doing sea-turtle research for the Master's Degree. Fascinating, really. We spent several minutes talking about sea-turtles... Amazingly, she showed up again yesterday, but now she was taking in the beach as a tourist. I didn't know it was her until she came over to talk again. We met up at Mango's and then went dancing like rhythm-less white people. She had too much "mango tea". 'Nuff said.

This list doesn't include Chad B, "the executive" from Anniston, AL, who's here apparently to debauch under-age women. He works at GameStop as a manager of some sort He says he's NOT a redneck, but I find that hard to believe. Nor does the above list include Tamara, who is here a few days early for a Porn Star Convention. She doesn't look like an actress, but some of her friends do. Maybe she's the producer or something.

Tim, the guitar player, and his wife have performed at two of the places I've been hanging out (Mango's and Fat Tuesday). They played "Wagon Wheel" by Old Crow last night. I thought I was gonna die -- I danced with a lovely young lady from NC 'cause I noticed she was singing too.. :) Both the girl from NC and Tim the musician were incredibly jealous that I saw Old Crow a few weeks back.

There are more strange folks to document.. perhaps I'll get around to it.

I'm headed back to the beach in a few -- gonna try to even out my burn/tan. Call me! I'd love to hear from you, I'm sure!

Update: I've written More on Wagon Wheel

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Tuesday, May 22, 2007

I'm an Australian!

I'm not a beach fan, really. The sun is fine, but I'm fair skinned. The sand is fine, but it gets in all my shoes. I like the night life; I like to boogie.

For years, there's been little to do after dark except to wander the beach looking for "friends". Now, thanks to the miracle of modern development, one can party and "club" into the wee hours of the morning at Sandestin's "Village at Baytowne Wharf". There are 4 GREAT nightclubs and at least one good neighborhood bar (where folks remember your name). All this little country boy has to do is board the free tram and cross the highway and I'm set to go.

Tonight I met the nicest guy from Australia named Dwayne. He was friendly enough, has a neat job and stuff. The BEST thing about Dwayne, though, is that he's from Australia. WOMEN LOVE GUYS WITH FUNNY ACCENTS. I won't go into details, but I'll say that I don't mind being lumped into the Australian crowd at the clubs at Baytowne Wharf. It was the funniest thing; 19 and 21 year old coeds kept screaming, "They're from Australia!!!!" Of course, being the gentleman that I am, I kept stressing that HE was an Aussie, but I was from Tennessee. Even with my carefully cultivated Tennessee drawl, they didn't seem to notice. Apparently, for tonight, I TOO was from Australia. My new nationality served me well. She was 21, I swear.

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Saturday, May 19, 2007

Love in the 21st century

The other day a friend was telling me that her boyfriend was on a mission trip abroad. She asked me, "Do you think he'll be able to text me from there?" She asked me this over an instant messenger (Yahoo, I think, but I use Pidgin/GaIM to aggregate all my IM services) -- I almost always communicate with this friend via email or instant message.

I told her I was unsure -- she'd just have to wait and see. This got me to thinking about my relationships over the last five years and how much of those relationships was conducted "online" or via text message or even telephone, and not in person or through regular mail. I realized that LOTS of my "romantic communication" was conducted via new-fangled technological means. I've flirted on MySpace, wooed over instant messenger, and teased via text message. I've sent online greeting cards and written poetry on web-pages.

In the old days people courted in person. Your beau might show up at the house on a Sunday afternoon (because he worked the rest of the week) and sit with you and your family in your parlor or kitchen. If you were lucky, Ma and Pa might allow you some time alone with him. As the years moved on, young people went to movies and dances. I'm sure the telephone was a boon to lovestruck boys as they whispered fervently across the line to a swooning sweetie. I know I've spent hours on the phone with women and realized that we talked about absolutely nothing -- and I can still smile about it.

There was a time, before instant messages and cell-phone texts, when people sent love letters and notes. Sometimes it took days or even weeks to receive a perfumed letter, all the while the sender wondering how it might be received. Now, we can know within minutes or even seconds how our flirtings or expressions of affection are received; we can adapt and respond just as quickly.

We're probably much more cautious, in a way, these days. As a male, I know I constantly try to adapt to the mood of a woman, whether in person or online. Women are cagey creatures whose thoughts are veiled to men. Where once I might write a flowing missive pouring out adoration, I now write short quips, trying to gauge if she's receptive to my advances. Were you to write me a passionate message, pouring your soul into an emotional email, who knows how long it would take me to click "Forward" and send it on to my buddies -- especially if I weren't receptive to your advances. (Know, ladies, that I would never do that, of course, but some would and have -- I've gotten such forwards and so have you.)

I read a blog the other day of a guy living in Memphis who met a girl in January and was engaged at the end of April. That's FAST to me. I know social mores and expectations have changed and there's nothing wrong with that, but, reading in his blog how he texted and emailed and waited on the "beep-beep-beep" indicating a new message, I wonder how fast his courtship was accelerated due to technology. Would she be wearing a diamond engagement ring if he had plied his troth so quickly sixty years ago?

Have we lost something due to the immediacy of communication? I don't know. I know that I have written long and passionate letters and actually mailed them and they're almost always well-received. Has "courtship" been hastened through the use of instant messages and email? I don't know, but I've certainly been turned down before I ever had the chance to open my mouth in person.

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Friday, May 18, 2007

Fashion for geeks, thanks women-folk!

I've got lots of women in my life -- I get lots of fashion advice, advice about how to act, what to wear. I'm pretty luck. The other morning, I had a long conversation with Marilyn and Judy in our office. I had lost some weight and Judy knew that. I asked about pants and how I generally didn't like the pants I was wearing because they weren't cuffed.

I always wear cuffed pants, but Judy said, "You shouldn't wear cuffed pants." Cuffs are out and pleats are out, apparently. You know, all of my pants are pleated, except for maybe two pair. I guess I like pleats 'cause my dad has always worn pleats. That's what they bought me when I was young. Old habits are hard to break.

Flat fronted pants -- they're a new thing for me. I need to check that out.

I've got women in my life that help me with my "fashion". Some of them are older women, like Judy and Marilyn and my mother. Some of them are younger women, like Liz, who told me last year to "loosen up". I started with untucking my shirt and wearing tennis shoes. Now I've even got a woven belt with no loops -- it's like a strap around my waist. It's not leather, it's simpe cloth.I like it. I've also got some flip-flops (or "thongs" as the Europeans" call them). Flip flops are a big step for me, you know.

Some of these women are older, huggable women. Some of these women are foks I cuddle with; some are folks I'd like to cuddle with. I have an interesting life with so many women trying to help me.

I found a website the other day, which I've shared with some of you, called "Fashion for Nerds". My women-folk aren't wrong, according to this website.

What other advice can you give me?





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Thursday, May 17, 2007

New office manager - with dragonfly

Mrs. Judy We have a new office manager. I've known her for several years; she used to work for one of our customers. She's been of about a year and a half. They expect her to be "tough" on us, but we'll see. She's very sweet, very competent, etc etc... Our customers appear to like her so far.

She also makes me "as nervous as a cat". She's trying to catch on so very quickly. Trying to corral me -- which is part of her job, I'm told. Trying to understand how I work and how to interpret what I say. She's been asking for explanations of the processes which are my job; the paperwork, the way to handle my callers and certain customers. I'm glad to share all that, of course, but I'm also trying to wrap up like a THOUSAND loose ends before I leave for Destin on Sunday. So, I'm fidgety and trying to get lots done and she's trying to work. It'll work out and I'm not unhappy.

Judy wore the neatest blouse (or shirt, according to Adrienne) today. It had an embroidered dragonfly on the upper left quadrant. I thought at first that it was a brooch, but it's actually part of the shirt. She bought it at the Kellwood outlet, she said.

Dragonflies are said to represent new light and joy. Some cultures, however, view them as evil or sinister things -- the "devil's needle" or "ear cutter" -- and are linked to injury. I prefer to focus on the positive symbolism -- some Native American tribes say they represent swiftness and activity. Some tribes see them as a symbol of renewal after a time of hardship. The Japanese see courage, happiness and strength.

I just thought it was a neat shirt (or blouse) or whatever.




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Wednesday, May 16, 2007

"Scary Jesus" is gone!

Scary Jesus Those of you who have traveled with me, or by yourself, between Humboldt and Bells (perhaps on your way to Memphis) may remember passing this lovely yard ornament affectionately known among my circle of friends and acquaintances as "Scary Jesus". A local landowner, presumably in the spirit of roadside evangelism, created a welded-metal depiction of a crucified Jesus. With its exposed metal ribs and rust arms hanging from the cross, it was truly disturbing (especially on seeing it the first time). Some comic relief was provided by the kneeling cowboy and horse silhouette beneath the cross.



I remember the first time Lindsay saw it while we were traveling to Memphis in November 2006. She said, "What the hell is that?" Of course, I immediately stopped and turned around so she could get a better look. Since then she's warned me sternly not to slow down.



Scary Jesus is gone!In the past few months it appears that someone has begun construction on what seems to be a church on the site. A new building was erected behind and to the right of Scary Jesus. It seems to be a metal frame building. Lots of earth work has been done (perhaps to prepare a parking lot).



I passed by the lot Friday last week and notice that SCARY JESUS IS GONE. No, Scary Jesus didn't climb down from the cross. The whole tableau is missing: no cross, no Jesus, no kneeling cowboy and horse. I'm hoping Scary Jesus will be back; it's certainly a conversation starter (and sometimes stopper).



The small pictures here don't really do it justice. Click the pic for a larger version.





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Monday, May 14, 2007

Feeling blue

Feeling a bit blueI'm feeling a bit blue. I want nothing more than to do a certain thing, but I know I musn't. It wouldn't matter anyway. What I imagine the truth to be and the real, honest truth are two different things. I am weak. I am weak even to be writing this, but I feel like writing, so I am.



In my head I am making plans; plans that won't work out the way I imagine. I know, even thinking about them, that they'll never happen as I imagine. Imagination is an amazing thing. Fantasy is a release, but the reality following fantasy is a drag.



Why should I waste my emotional energy? I don't know. I know only that I am. I wish I could snap my fingers and make it go away. Time. Time. Time. That's what it'll take. I don't know if I'm strong enough to wait.





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Sunday, May 13, 2007

New flops



New flops

Originally uploaded by chiacomo.
On Lindsay's recommendation, with advice from Adrienne (she said I needed "substantial man flops"), and some in-store guidance from Sara,

I purchased my first pair of flip-flops, ever. I remember wearing a pair of flip-flops when I was very young, I think they had a picture of Snoopy the Dog on them, but I have no idea where they are and I know they wouldn't fit.



Those of you who know me well will remember that I have a thing about my feet. The standard story is that when I was very young my father used to sit me on the side of the road and that people would stop as they passed saying, "Oh my! Look at that little boy with the ugly feet."



I wouldn't say that I have a complex, exactly, but I've always been self-conscious about my feet. Only my closest friends have previously seen my feet. Thanks to the influence of a certain person, however, I'm changing slowly. I'm becoming less conservative in my dress (see also the GREAT plaid shorts in this picture). I'm not tucking my shirt in when I'm not working... I dunno. Liz said last year that I needed to "loosen up". I'm trying Liz, I am, and I think I'm enjoying it.



I don't like feet in general. I like Adrienne's feet and Lindsay's, but I'm not too fond of most people's feet. I don't think I'm gonna get over my "foot thing" any time soon.



So, should I buy some more flops or should I ditch these suckers and hide them?





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Saturday, May 12, 2007

That damned liberal girlfriend


I had an opportunity to speak with state Representative Chris Crider (Republican) at the Governor's Luncheon in Humboldt on Friday. I know Chris pretty well, we talk from time to time about local politics, projects on which the city is working, and just gossip. We're not personally close, but we're friendly. It's always fun to talk to him.

I'd been "working the room" as my aunt says and I found Chris at the head table. I wanted to say hello, but I also had a serious question or two to ask, so I made sure to seek him out. He saw me and smiled as I walked onto the dais. He stuck out his hand, gave me a firm handshake, and grabbed my shoulder. Suddenly he looked sort of frightened -- almost hiding behind me as he glanced around.

I thought perhaps something was happening behind me -- something I might need to worry about or someone I needed to avoid. I looked at Chris, concern in my eyes, and said, "What's wrong? Who are you looking for?"

"That damned liberal girlfriend of yours! Where is she?" he asked.

"She's not here and she's not my girlfriend... besides, she thinks you don't like her, especially after you dodged the two of us at the Chamber of Commerce Banquet," I replied and laughed as I said it.

Chris, looking relieved, laughed, "Yeah, I like her just fine -- I just don't know what to say to her. I can't talk to her."

Imagine! A politician, a friendly kind of guy who always has something to say to everyone rendered speechless by a twenty-three year old math teacher!



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Thursday, May 10, 2007

A. Schwab's



A. Schwab's - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia:
A. Schwab's is the only remaining original business on Beale Street. Their motto is "If you can't find it at A. Schwab's, you don't need it!"



I visited "A. Scwab's" during the Beale Street Music Festival on Saturday. I've been going into Schwab's for a bout a decade now and the store hasn't changed much. The layout is still a shambles, the staff is still surly, and the merchandise is still a hodge-podge of touristy kitche and stuff that might belong in a 1920s dry goods store.

They claim to be a dry goods store but the only non-tourist stuff I picked up on right away was a set of ancient looking water pumps (you know the kind with the handle).

We did notice a huge collection of dried voodoo ingredients in the back of the store; I suppose those might qualify as "dry goods".

Schwab's truly is a landmark. It's unusual to find any business owned by the same person or family on Beale Street for more than a decade. If you have the chance, I recommend dropping by. They're open only during the day, though, so night-owls are left out.

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Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Business cards -- wow!



P1010275

Originally uploaded by dailypoetics.
I've really enjoyed looking through these different business cards. It's amazing how creative people are with disposable bits of paper.

I like this one, especially, 'cause it has Matt's name on it.

My own business cards are pretty austere by these standards. They simply have my name, our company logo, and the logo of one of our major product lines. The cards is well made, though. High quality paper, raised lettering, vivid colors. I was tickled to pink when I realized I could put anything I wanted on it. I finally chose to put NO title. Just let folks figure out what I am and what I am not.

Over the years, I've had calling cards printed up. These are basically cards with my name, address, sometimes telephone number, and in the last decade or so, my email address and website. They're super handy at parties and many people are absolutely charmed by them.

Here in the south, calling cards can be handy when you drop by someone's house unannounced and find them not home. Wedge a calling card in the door and they'll know you dropped by.


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Stop Sending Those “Don’t Buy Gas” Emails


Stop Sending Those “Don’t Buy Gas” Emails

The first (and most obvious) reason is you are simply delaying the purchase of the gasoline you need; we’re not actually decreasing the demand for gas (which might bring the prices down), we’re just shifting the demand to another day in the very near future.

I have forwarded similar emails in the past; it just makes sense that the big fuel companies would notice if everyone stopped buying gas on one day. In fact, they probably won't. They KNOW we're gonna need their product again very soon. Until America decreases its reliance on foreign fossil fuels we'll always be essentially at the mercy of big oil. I don't see myself changing my driving habits any time soon, do you?





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My ego?





I am a persuasive person. I have always managed to sell stuff -- merchandise, ideas, myself, whatever. I have a large and powerful ego to which people seem to respond. I have convinced myself that I am better than average, that I am a likable and reasonably good looking guy -- and that since I believe these things, others do too. I think I can do something, therefore I can. I am convinced that I can talk a person into anything, make a person believe anything (especially when it's the truth and I believe it), that given enough time and the right words (which have always seemed to be present in my mouth at the right time) I can do anything or have anything I want.

The whole paragraph above sounds terribly conceited -- and I'm not. I promise. I am fortunate (lucky?) and good with words and good with people generally. I am honest and straightforward and hide very little emotionally and people respond to that on a basic, primal level, usually.

I guess it's a function of my ego, or perhaps a breakdown somewhere along the way, that's been frustrating me so much lately. I've said the right words, behaved in the right way and I can't get what I want. My ego is wounded and I am hurt, I guess. It's a deep down kind of hurt that I can't shake -- like a broken leg or something. It will take some time to heal; I'll be bruised for a bit.

It's not that I always get what I want. On the contrary, I'm regularly disappointed. Sometimes people don't respond rationally, sometimes I fail to reach the mark. Often I simply quit trying. If the effort is turning out to be greater than the reward, I'll often quit midstream. Sometimes I wait a while and still get what I want. Sometimes I never do.

I can almost always rationalize my failures by, as I say, attributing them to other people's irrationality or my own laziness (but not to a lack of quality or skill on my part). Sometimes I realize I didn't want it as badly as I thought. Often my desire for something, an object or a goal, simply fades away.

So friends, forgive me if I'm being royal king-sh*t asshole. I'm not getting what I want and don't like it. You might try stroking my ego a bit; that never hurts.





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Friday, May 04, 2007

Why use "CC"?



Carbon copy - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

The CC recipients are revealed to all recipients, and this may not be desirable, depending on the situation. An alternative field, BCC, or Blind Carbon Copy, is available for hidden notification. In common usage, To field recipients are the primary audience of the message, CC field recipients are others whom the author wishes to publicly inform of the message, and BCC field recipients are those surreptitiously being informed of the communication.




Obviously this is one of those topics that just popped into my head about 20 minutes ago. I got to wondering, in this day and age, why anyone would use a "CC:" field in an email. All popular mail clients and web-based email sites allow you to put scads of email addresses in the "To" field -- so, why would I every use a "CC"? A passable answer is found in the Wikipedia (the sum of all useful human knowledge). Apparently, recipients of CC'd messages aren't necessarily expected to reply; they're simply being notified. One might CC one's supervisor to make him aware of the message, but he's not expected to take action.



Interesting, huh?



I use BCC when sending forwards, of course. Lately, I've been BCC'ing people on messages that I didn't want the primary recipients (those in the "To:" box) to know I was communicating with. Apparently, I shouldn't be talking to certain people right now. Long story. I'm rambling. :)







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Wednesday, May 02, 2007

On this cool clear night

On this cool clear night
The moon is bright and I
Stand beneath the stars
Wondering if somewhere
You and your golden hair
Lay thinking or pondering o'er
Past or future, do you
Think of what might have been or be?
Do you remember or dream or
Do you perhaps even long just a little
For me?

- April, 2007

Friday, April 13, 2007

Jesus is my DEALER



The Herald Democrat

When he asked her if she knew why McDaniel stopped her, she stated “because I was walking in traffic.” Yes, that was correct, and he explained she couldn’t walk in the roadway. Then, he asked her if she was high on some kind of drug. Her answer, the report said, was “I am. It’s the Holy Spirit and little bit of marijuana.” He asked if she had any left and she said, “Not enough to get you high, but I know who to go to for more.” McDaniel asked who and she answered, “Jesus.”




Hrm. I wonder what church she's going to? I've heard of Jesus as God incarnate, the head of the church, brother, friend, Superstar, lamb, and on and on; he's got dozens or hundreds of "roles" in our society, but I've never thought of Jesus as my DEALER.









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Tuesday, April 10, 2007

May the Eye of Horus shine upon you all





The UT Martin Pacer - Letters to the Editor - Viewpoints

We do not try to convince others of the greatness of the Boy King: His powerful image speaks for itself. We do not spend any money on advertising as all the donations we receive go to "the obelisk fund" as we like to call it. We hope to build an obelisk in Northwest Tennessee, at an undisclosed location, around which we can gather and pray to the Boy King that he may spread His wings over us. His supremacy over all other deities is unquestionable and we believe that, like Him, we will conquer Death.




I read The Pacer on occasion -- the letters to the editor can sometimes be very enlightening (or funny). THIS letter is just downright hilarious! Makes me think the movie Young Sherlock Holmes. Just think! Somewhere in the boonies of Northwest Tennessee someone is scouting land to build an obelisk to honor and worship the Sun God, Amun-Ra!



Surely this is parody. Surely.





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Sunday, April 01, 2007

Let the lower lights be burning



We were on our way to Taco Bell for supper tonight and saw this interesting menorah gleaming from a cross street in Milan. It caught my eye -- strange to see something like this on the side of the road.



There was no one visible inside the church or outside on the street. It was still burning an hour later on our way back.





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Thursday, March 29, 2007

True grit -- Another first for Eric



Eric tried grits for the first time (ever) today. I don't think he likes them. He mixed them with butter and salt. My mother indicated that he might try them with cheese next time.



Wednesday, March 28, 2007

A $1 parking ticket? How cheap!





ABC News: $1 Parking Ticket From 1980 Paid Off

A $1 parking ticket from 1980 has been paid off, after the offender sent the payment along with a $3 late fee to police without giving a name.







When I left Memphis, I folded up a hundred dollar bill, stuck it in a library book, and dropped it into the night depository at the main branch of the library. I hope they're not still looking for me. A friend who worked there told me that at one time, my picture was taped to the circulation desk with "DO NOT LEND" stenciled across the top.



This story reminds me that my Dad got a parking ticket when he was in Memphis one time. I had intended to "get it fixed" but I never did. I wonder if the MPD is on the lookout for him? I can imagine that conversation now.





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Rats from a sinking ship -- but why did they get on?



Delta Air plans for stock to trade on NYSE in May | Transportation | Reuters

Existing shares of Delta will be wiped out when the company emerges from Chapter 11. Delta has said it expects to have a market value of $10 billion.


I've done some profoundly stupid things in my life... The most recent didn't involve a woman.

My father was sitting in my office the other day using a spare computer to check his email (he's not yet a gmail devotee' -- he's still on Yahoo, blech) and watching the market. Dad commented that Delta's stock was doing pretty well and was cheap that day... Yeah, it's DALRQ; the "Q" stands for Bankruptcy.

So, after watching the thing trade for a few minutes I absently hit the "buy" button and became the proud owner of 500 shares of this venerable air carrier. I bought at, I think, $.81... I got out at $.71, yesterday, and it's trading right now at $.52 with the bottom continuing to fall out

Now, my question is why in the world is anyone even still trading this thing? I know that there are a few idiots like me who didn't fully research the thing before doing a "Quick Buy", but that can't be all of it. It's destined to crash and burn, horribly, before May 1. At this late date, with its funeral already planned and the mourners having their suits pressed, why is anyone BUYING this thing?


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Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Gmail down -- someone send up a flare!

Dammit. I need my Gmail.



I like the idea of moving as much of my life as possible to web-based apps -- mainly 'cause I have access to them everywhere -- but when one of them breaks, it's a pain. I continue to applaud Google and gmail, though. I understand brief outages.





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Secular legislators?



God's dupes - Los Angeles Times

PETE STARK, a California Democrat, appears to be the first congressman in U.S. history to acknowledge that he doesn't believe in God. In a country in which 83% of the population thinks that the Bible is the literal or "inspired" word of the creator of the universe, this took political courage.
This is interesting. I wonder how it will impact his bid for re-election. We shouldn't be concerned about legislators who don't believe in God (or any god for that matter) -- one's belief in a higher power doesn't necessarily affect one's judgment or even one's morality. I suspect, however, that Representative Stark will face wide criticism for his admission.



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Wednesday, March 07, 2007

You're every other beat of my heart

You're every other beat of my heart
An integral part of my pulse,
Regular and reliable
Pumping life and love and peace through each day
Even far, distant, this cadence brings you into my mind.

When I breath, I inhale and know
That somewhere, you breath also
As I exhale your name flutters, a whisper,
Across my lips.

I do not long for you as lover longs for lover
I long for you as the river longs for the sea
A tree, in full bloom, longing for the gentle breeze of spring
Your words, soft touch, warmth
Resonate, vibrate, reassure, sustain me
As you are every other beat of my heart.

-February 2007

Monday, January 29, 2007

In her eyes I find her beauty

In her eyes I find her beauty
So much surrounded by loveliness, but
Outdone by the depths of emotion
In those gateways to her soul.

Transfixed, I stare
As the quietness in that busy world
Overwhelms me, drowning out
My cares, my thoughts,
I am drawn instead into dreams.

For a moment, no surely an hour
I am in another place
Not with her, but not apart
The longing may come in waves, as
In her eyes I find her beauty.

2006 - for Adrienne

I stood behind you on the street

I stood behind you on the street
And I knew you and you knew I was behind
You didn't turn around, but you knew I put
My hand on your shoulder to wrap you
In my arms you didn't want to be
You said as you turned as if you
Meant to turn all along,
"Watch how they tap their feet," and led
Me away losing my words and my dreams as they
Walked down the street.

1998 - for Jessica

Just hold my hand

Just hold my hand and
I will dream
Of tender moments that might be.
Perhaps a dream of your laugh,
Of a whispered word, you so close
I feel your soft breath on my neck.

Just hold my hand
For only a moment
I might imagine breathing so
Lightly as our lips touch,
My eyes closed but my vision filled with
So many shooting stars.

Just hold my hand
A light touch and
I can feel your warmth,
The same warmth I long to
Feel as I hold you, still and quiet.
Just hold my hand.

2007 - following New Year

Friday, January 19, 2007

And so I placed you on a pedestal

And so I placed you on a pedestal
High above me because in my mind
I was less than worthy
Beneath you standing I smiled and found myself
Proud to recognize such beauty and grace
Pleased to elevate it and revere it.

And so like all things earthly
You became something else when
Separate from the earth and me
You changed, at least in my perception.
Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen, so high had I placed you, or
Perhaps you were never what I thought you to be
Before I placed you on a pedestal.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

God and Math: What if the big guy says 2 + 2 doesn't equal 4?

I was looking at my college webpage on the Internet Wayback Machine last night (the server has been off-line for some years now). Some of you may remember that I rambled quite a bit back then. I read some of my old "blog" entries -- my posts were called "Thoughts of the Day" and resembled a blog, though no one had ever heard the term at the time.

Some of my posts were quite funny (and I may share them with you), others were pretty depressing, especially when I remember what motivated them. Anyway... reading these old musings prompted me to ramble a bit in my own mind last night:

What if all evidence contradicts God?
So, I'm facing a situation where, in my mind, all things point to one answer and in my heart, God is telling me something entirely different. It isn't quite so cut and dried as God saying 2 + 2 equals 5, but I am quite confused. I'm questioning God, questioning my interpretation of his purpose, and just generally confused.

Every fiber of my being screams that X is true, all evidence indicates that X is true, independent observers have confirmed that X appears to be true... When I ask God if X is true, I get an ambiguous answer that seems to indicate that it is in fact NOT true (I really don't get an answer at all). I suppose it could be that one part of my brain refuses to accept his answer and is therefore looking past it. It could be that I'm simply to dense to see that God is CONFIRMING my suspicion that X is true. I dunno.

I really wish he'd go ahead and tell me one way or another.

Lord, help me understand your purpose and intentions. I'm blunt -- send me a lightning bolt (figuratively) or something, please....



Monday, August 07, 2006

The importance of a comma -- "a basic rule of punctuation"

globeandmail.com : 'A basic rule of punctuation':
A grammatical blunder may force Rogers Communications Inc. to pay an extra $2.13-million to use utility poles in the Maritimes after the placement of a comma in a contract permitted the deal's cancellation.
I'm a big fan of commas, as you may know. I'm also facinated by the law (though contract law can be boring as all get-out). The situation above illustrates perfectly why we hire lawyers to create and review legal documents -- and, also as illustrated above, sometimes they can screw up!






Sunday, August 06, 2006

Thoughts on friendship: "Keeping score..."

The Bible says that "the love of money is the root of evil" -- or something similar. We hear that passage misquoted often as "money is the root of evil". Do you ruminate on what your friends owe you? Is it your turn to pay the bar bill or someone else's? Did you loan your buddy $10 and do you expect it back? So many friendships are allowed to sour because we're keeping score.

I moved back to my small hometown several years ago (6 or 7, I can't remember). I do remember that I hadn't been home long when, as I had no plans for the evening, my dad asked me to watch my brother while my dad and mom went out for supper. As he was gathering up his wallet, keys, etc before he walked out the door, my Dad discovered he had no cash. He asked, "Nathan, do you have any cash?" As it was Friday and I had gotten paid that day and had taken some cash when I deposited my check, I had about $150. I told him so and he said, "Let me borrow about $100." Of course I loaned it to him --I thought nothing of it...

Several weeks later I remembered this "loan" and quizzed pop about it... He said to me with a smile on his face, "If you wanna keep score, I can start dragging out American Express bills for the last several years." I was a bit shocked -- and humbled. Who knows how much of my father's money I'd spent using that gold-plated credit-card -- I don't know and Dad certainly doesn't know. I learned a valuable lesson from my father over the years and this was the moment when the lesson became real.

Don't keep score...
If you love your friends and your friends love you -- if they are true friends, you needn't keep up with who owes who what. You spend on them, they spend on you. You do them favors, they do favors for you. Friendship should be an equitable relationship, yes, but you shouldn't carry a ledger book around in your back pocket.

When I can and when the fancy strikes me, I commonly pick up the check for dinner or other fun and exciting activities when I'm hanging out with my friends. Sometimes the tab is small and sometimes it's not so small. Often, if we're with people who don't know me terribly well, folks begin to reach for the pocketbooks or bill-folds to "pay me back". I can see the calculations rolling through their heads as they add up what their portion of the bill should be -- I generally hide the ticket away as quickly as possible to make this process more difficult. My general response to requests for a sub-total is to say, "We'll settle up later." In my mind, we've already settled up! I've had the pleasure of their company and they've had to put up with me -- a fair bargain for the cost of the meal or a few rounds of drinks, in my mind at least.

To not keep score can be a difficult habit to adopt. We tend to immediately think of what people owe us... But, if you're with true friends, you should know that it'll all come out even in the end.

It's important, if you're not keeping score, to remember to always give at every opportunity. Always offer to help. Always offer to pay (and sometimes force the issue). Always wash the dishes. Never remind someone that you paid last time. It's always your turn.

Don't loan money; give it away...
I don't loan my friends money. I don't do it. It's a bad practice and it almost always leads to conflict. If you're loaning friends money, you're setting up a business relationship and business relationships and friendship often clash. I give folks money, if I can afford it, and am pleased when they pay me back. I'm not disappointed if they don't -- 'cause I didn't expect it.

The important rule to remember is never to give a friend more money than you can afford to lose. If it hurts you to give it and you have to have it back at some point, don't loan it. Simple, huh? You'll save yourself lots of grief and strained conversations.

This was tough for me...

Several years ago a friend of mine -- a very good friend -- backed over my parked car. We laughed about it at the time. The damage was entirely superficial; a dented door and some scrapes were the only indication that something had happened. My friend offered to pay for the repairs and I said "sure"... The mistake on my part was preparing myself to actually be recompensed for the damage.

I had the car repaired -- I think the bill was about $400, but it may have been closer to $600. I kept the bill and called my friend, saying that the repairs were complete and I offered to supply a copy of the bill. That's okay, the friend said, no bother, I'll send you a check. I've never seen a penny.

Now, I know that my friend simply forgot. My friend wouldn't stiff me on purpose. I never mentioned it again, however. "WHAT???" you say? Nope, I never mentioned it. This would create a situation where money was, for only a second, at the center of our friendship. A debt would be the topic of conversation. As time passed I lay awake at night thinking about that money -- there were times when I could really have used it, times when my own wallet was a bit thin. This is when not keeping score became hard. I had made a mistake, as I mentioned above, in preparing myself for the money.

I am simply not going to permit money come between me and those I love. It's a cursed mistake and I'm not going to do it -- I recommend that you avoid it as well.

Some warnings...
Don't let yourself be taken advantage of by false friends. Know your true friends and keep them close. Be wary of folks who never pick up the tab -- the amount isn't important. If they're buying dinner at Chez McDonalds and you're buying dinner at Chez Phillipe, that's fine. If you're always buying dinner, you're in trouble... Your true friends won't abuse the relationship.

Don't overspend or overcommit yourself in your friendships -- it's easy to get caught up giving to people. Whether you're giving time, money, or even emotional capital, remember that you have to look after yourself. If your friends are true friends, they'll help look after you just as you look after them.

Please, please, please.. Remember this: This works for me. I am at peace in my life; I'm as happy as I've ever been, I suppose. This isn't a be-all-end-all blog post for friendship and there are caveats and contradictions to every rule. Your mileage may vary.




Monday, July 31, 2006

TiVo 80 Hour Series2 DVR for $83.40 with Box and 1 Year of Service

TiVo is having a promotion where for $83.40 you get the 80 hour box with a full year of service. You can also get the 80 hour dual tuner box with 1 year of service for only $155.40. This is a great deal for people looking to get a Series2 TiVo.

read more | digg story

Yeah! I've been looking at TiVo for a few months -- since my cousin bought my parents a TiVo for Father's Day. This is the deal I've been waiting on. Yes, I ordered mine today. If you're interested, please move quickly; this is a "limited time" offer available only while "supplies last".


Thursday, July 20, 2006

Some funny stories from the courthouse

I'm a director of the local Chamber of Commerce -- I enjoy the opportunity to better my community and promote commerce and good business practices. Our Chamber offices recently moved to a new location and I attended the grand opening this afternoon. Being "election season" there were, of course, dignitaries of all stripe in attendance. I had the opportunity to talk to lots of interesting people and shake lots of sweaty hands (it was near 100 degrees outside today and the A/C isn't really up to par in the new building).

I talked for quite a long time with a person who's been employed in some capacity in the governing of our county for the better part of 40 years. A wealth of information, very helpful any time you want to get anything done. She shared a few stories, anecdotes really, from her time in various county government offices.

What kind of check?

There was a local counseling center that operated in the basement of the County Health Department. People could come in and talk to psychologists or psychiatrists about their problems -- for free or very little money. The story is told that a lady arrived and requested an appointment with a psychiatric professional. She met with the doctor and complained that she just couldn't satisfy her husband. After some conversation, the doctor recommended a "vaginal check" before their next meeting. She agreed and left. Several weeks later, the lady returned and complained that she still was having trouble. The doctor queried her, "Did you get the vaginal check?"

"No!" she replied, "and I've been checking the mailbox every day!"

I want a refund ...

An elderly couple made their way to the courthouse for a marriage license and a short ceremony by the judge. The lady working in the County Clerk's office noticed, while issuing the license, that the gentleman was somewhat hard-of-hearing as, when she asked him, "Would you please sign?" he replied that it was 3 o'clock. The couple was duly married and left, presumably, to begin their life of wedded bliss together.

A few weeks later the elderly gentleman returned to the County Clerk's office and told the deputy clerk that he'd like a refund! "A refund?" asked the clerk. "Yes," said the old man, "she don't give me none!"

She was taken aback -- no one had ever asked for a refund for a marriage license after he had been married in the courthouse! She scurried off to the County Clerk who laughed and walked from her office to speak with the old man. "Sir," said the clerk in her most serious tone, "you can't have a refund because the marriage wasn't consummated." He stared at her for several long moments with furrowed brow as he processed her response. Finally, he drew a deep breath, slammed his palm on the counter and said, "Dammit woman, I ain't constipated and I don't know what that has to do with anything anyhow. I want a refund!"





Tips for cheering yourself up--from 1820.

The Happiness Project: Tips for cheering yourself up--from 1820.:
11th. Don’t expect too much from human life—a sorry business at the best.


Some of the tips on this page are very helpful, I think. For example, "Live as well as you dare." Also, "Do good, and endeavour to please everybody of every degree."

I don't have much trouble remaining happy these days, but there have been times when staying happy has been a bit ... difficult. I particularly like the tip to, "Keep good blazing fires."

Have a look at these tips and tell me what you think.


Friday, July 14, 2006

Are you better off single?

Are you better off single?:
While snuggling up next to a warm body can be pretty fantastic, according to a survey conducted by the National Sleep Foundation, your bedmate can cause you to lose an average of 49 minutes of sleep per night. Sleeping two-to-a-bed just isnÂ’t as restful as snoozing solo.


Yes, but I'm not sure I want to be single. If I'm single, with whom do I snuggle on the couch? Pets don't count... If I'm single, with whom do I walk in the rain?

Of course, sleep is very important to me. I need my beauty rest -- yes I do. If I wear my earplugs and my eyemask, I'll bet I wouldn't even notice a woman in my bed... (Hrm, I'd better not tell any women that -- they might take it the wrong way.)

According to this article, single folks make-whoopee an average of only 49 times per year while married people get-it-on an average of 98 times -- the catch is that single folks supposedly have better lovin'. Besides the obvious question as to whether "more is better", I think star gazing on your back would probably be more special with someone special. I mean, jiggery-pokery isn't why we get married, but it's nothing to sneeze at! If you're looking for more fun euphemisms, check out this link from Wiktionary.

The article also asserts that single people are generally happier (or rather, less depressed). Of course, this makes some sense if you believe the article's assertion that single people are better looking ('cause everyone knows we let ourselves go when we get married) .

Read the article -- it's fun!

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Truths men don't tell women

11 "Don't-Tell-the-Wife" Secrets All Men Keep - MSN Lifestyle - Relationships:
With that much room left on our emotional-growth charts, we sense we've only begun to admire you in the ways we will when we're 40, 50 and -- God forbid -- 60. We can't explain this to you, because it would probably come out sounding like we don't love you now.
This is a neat little column -- and there are so many truths here. The particular truth, above, explaining that "Every year we love you more" I've seen proved time and time again. I see, weekly, 80 year old men who gaze at their wives in wonder. They're probably still wondering how they could be so lucky.


Tuesday, July 04, 2006

For whom the bell tolls?

For whom the bell tolls:

  • Tobacco (435,000 deaths, 18.1 percent of total U.S. deaths)
  • Poor diet and physical inactivity (400,000 deaths, 16.6 percent)
  • Alcohol consumption (85,000 deaths, 3.5 percent)
  • Microbial agents (75,000)
  • Toxic agents (55,000)
  • Motor vehicle crashes (43,000)
  • Incidents involving firearms (29,000)
  • Sexual behaviors (20,000)
  • Illicit use of drugs (17,000)


I'd like to say that the above causes of death are amazing to me -- but I live in the South. What *is* interesting in the above article is the explanation that the things we fear most are not in fact significant risks.


Sunday, July 02, 2006

This is my song...

I was given the opportunity to sing at the Community Gospel Singing that's part of our local 4th of July celebration. Here are my remarks given before I sang my second song:

We live in the Greatest Nation in the World.

All we have, every day, every gift, and indeed every nation and all people are creations of God. Jesus is the sovereign lord of not only our town and of the state of Tennessee and of the United States, but also every nation and every person in the whole world.

Today, as they have throughout the history of our nation, American fighting men and women are creating, keeping, and defending peace in lands all over the globe. Our prayers are and should be with these warriors because they are fighting on the front lines of a war for peace and freedom. They are fighting for peace and justice in our name.

And, while their fight is just, we know that true peace -- the Peace that Christ died to bring us and the world -- cannot be achieved until the whole world acknowledges that he is Lord of all.

On this 4th of July, let us pray for Peace in our lifetime -- and let us pray that Christ will be lifted up and that all will some day serve him and that we can live as one under his banner of love.

Here are the lyrics to the song I presented, "This Is My Song":
This is my song, O God of all the nations
A song of peace for lands afar and mine
This is my home, the country where my heart is
here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine
but other hearts in other lands are beating
with hopes and dreams as true and high as mine

My country's skies are bluer than the ocean
and sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine
but other lands have sunlight too, and clover
and skies are everywhere as blue as mine
O hear my song, O God of all the nations,
a song of peace for their land and for mine

This is my prayer, O Lord of all earth's kingdoms
Thy kingdom come; on earth thy will be done
Let Christ be lifted up till all shall serve Him
and hearts united learn to live as one
O hear my prayer, thou God of all the nations
myself I give thee; let thy will be done.

The song is set to the tune of "Finlandia".



Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Storm shelters

Our storms a few months back prompted many people to construct storm shelters or safe rooms in or near their homes. Of course, in our part of the world, storm shelters have long been popular.

I'm told, by my father, that this type of shelter is not uncommon.

A guy was coming 'round the side of the house after we turned around... Do you think he knew we were looking at his shelter?

Monday, June 26, 2006

Marriage

My friends are all getting married...

Tori, Allison, Patrick -- all are married now. Patrick was the most recent. He was married on Saturday.

I'll be 28 in August. I'm waiting patiently for Miss Right. I'm not desperately searching. I'm convinced God will plop me down in front of her or her in front of me at the right time. My life is so terribly busy but I know that at the right time all this extra baggage I carry will come flying off like so many packages from the bed of a flat-bed truck as it rolls over a rail-road tie.

I've been terribly luck with my friends' marriages. Tori married a man who could be my brother. Allison married a man who could be my brother. I can tear up as I thank God for his Providence that brought these men to these women who are so important to me. Patrick's wife is charming and enchanting, though I've not had the opportunity to become as close to her as I might.


Thursday, May 18, 2006

Writely is cool!

So, I've finally managed to get a Writely invitation. A friend sent it.

Writely was purchased by Google a few months back. It's already a very robust project. One of the coolest things is that it allows you to blog from within the interface. This is handy as the interface is better than Blogger's.

Let me know if you're interested in a Writely account.