Hell of a Guy
Never trust a computer you can't throw out a window - Steve Wozniak

Saturday, May 28, 2011

High School Reunion - not mine…


This weekend is The Nancy’s 40th High School Reunion and we are in Grafton, West Virginia to attend it.  This is the second reunion I have attended in the whole of my lifetime, and neither is connected to my own graduating class.

As far as I know, my high school graduating class has never had a reunion, at least not one where I was asked to attend.  Hmmm?  Perhaps I am missing something here?

The graduating class of The Baltimore City College (high school), February 1962 – and yet another story – was not highly organized even when I attended school.  If memory serves me, even our class president dropped out of school a couple of weeks prior to graduation and joined the Navy, taking is learning savvy to it.  He knew he was going to fail in several classes and this was his means to save face, I suppose, but I think everyone knew he was going to fail, so he didn’t save a lot of anything.  It doesn’t surprised me the “esprit de core” is lacking in this group…we certainly didn’t have it then, or now, or so it seems.  It was a class of under achievers that included me, the unsung under achiever of them all (to a point).

My first HS reunion attendance was with my former bride and her 25th.  With hers, much as with The Nancy’s, I was amazed to see people of all ages.  What I mean by that is how much I was struck with how some people age so very gracefully and how some others do not.  Both the former bride and the present bride took the graceful route.

How can a group of people all be within one or two years of one another and look so vastly different age wise?  I am not here to judge anyone, so forgive me if it sounds as if I am, but I have to wonder why this happens.  It is definitely puzzling to me, I have always thought it to be a lack of personal pride, but what the hell do I know?  I suppose genes play a part in this drama, but so does ego, and ego is not necessary a bad thing as long as it doesn’t go too far.  Maybe it’s just a “judgment” call?     

In my narcissistic mind I see myself as looking on the younger side of my rapidly advancing age group, then again, it might just be a case of rapidly failing eyesight.

And that is all I have to say about that…

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Things my Father said…


A little while ago I was busily preparing my gourmet lunch of a vegetable concoction that might be described by some as a wannabee soup.  The Nancy and I are on an 11-day diet, you see, aptly called “Fat Loss for Idiots.”  The website is http://www.fatloss4idiots11.com shoul,d you wish to check it out.  This is a program we have done before, and I think this is chapter number six of this novel entitled “Get off Your Fat Ass and Lose It.”  Suffice it to say it works, at least it has worked for us. 

Anyway, I was putting some this epicurean delight in a bowl, and as luck would have it, being as totally uncoordinated as I am, I slopped some of the slop outside the bowl on the counter top.  Almost immediately without thinking I uttered the phrase, “You rascal, you.”

It was a phrase that often came out of my dad’s mouth when he was having difficulty with something he was trying do and not having much luck with it.  It was a “dad-ism,” just one of many that came into my limited mind and brought up fond memories from my childhood.

I remember as a kid watching my dad work on a project and would often ask him what he was doing.  His instantaneous reply 99 out of 100 times was “Building a layover to catch meddlers.”  A what?  I was always puzzled by the phrase, but knew not to ask what a layover might be.  I was much older, please note I am not a quick study, when I finally understood there wasn’t any such contraption, and dad was being dad and yanking my chain.  Da!

Rarely, and I mean very, very rarely, did I ever hear my dad use bad language.  It was just not part of his regular vernacular.  I think I heard him say “shit” one time, I don’t recall the occasion, but it surely had to have been something that happened of an egregious nature.  And I know he said “hell” one or two times and not as noun.  Profanity was simply not his style.

One of his favorites, when things didn’t go his way was “consarnit!”  That was the bad one.  When dad said consarnit it was time for we little people in the house to become invisible, and most certainly not the time to ask what was wrong.  Generally speaking old dad was a pretty even tempered man.  I only saw him upset a couple of times and it was not a pleasant experience, especially the time I was the agent of his angst.  He did not have a quick temper, but one definitely existed under his gentle exterior.

I am more than certain my father was not the originator of these dad-isms.  As much as I loved him and respected him, I know he was more of an emulator than innovator.  These were all most likely handed down in his family from generation to generation, and it continues even to this day.  My daughters grew up hearing this same stuff.  It just proves with all this ever changing technology of today that some things never change – “if it ain’t broke” and so on.

And that is all I have to say about that…

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

January 31, 2012…


I have made the irrevocable decision (and I mean it this time) to retire as of 2-1-2011, and now am looking forward with some trepidation to my last full day of work on January 31st. 

A decision such as this is not an easy one for me, not a welcome one, or, for that matter, a willing one, but it damn sure is a complicated one.  The one certain in all of this is there are just 257 days left to my working career.  I think and hope I am ready for what lay ahead. 

For most of my life retirement has not been a subject I have addressed properly.  I am not prepared mentally or financially (though I will be alright) to handle retirement.  The decision to set a date has generated many questions, and I know there are many more way in the back of my head eagerly awaiting there nasty little turn in the queue.

I could have retired in February 2010, but I chose not to do it.  Frankly, I just was not ready (afraid).  I did set a date of February 1, 2010 and was quite comfortable with the decision until I changed my mind mid-way through 2009, with my boss’s approval.  I was still enjoying my job and still having fun.  This is not necessarily true today.  My business has changed and simply requires more than I have to give.  I believe I am no longer relevant, hence, my decision.

Fortunately I have nine months to plan my departure.  I also have nine months to plan what in the hell I will do all day long once I have 24-hours of nothing to do, but I won’t waver, nor will I vacillate. 

And that is all I have to say about that… 

Saturday, May 14, 2011

“May 21, 2011


“It’s the end of the world as we know it” so go the lyrics of the song R.E.M. recorded in 1987.  Just yesterday I saw a full-page ad in USA Today announcing this will occur on May 21, 2011, and then -

“And to them it was given that they should not kill them, but that they should be tormented five months: and their torment was as the torment of a scorpion, when he striketh a man.” Revelation 9:5

According to this truth, afterall, it is in the Bible, the end of the world will be October 11, 2011, but only after five months of hell on earth.  The question I have for the people who put this stuff out is, what will your story be on May 22nd and October 22nd.

The earth is a pretty big place.  I think I can very safely, however sadly, predict a catastrophe occurring somewhere on the planet in some form almost everyday, but it ain’t the end of the world. 

Besides, if the world should suddenly cease to exist on either of the above days it will really screw up The Best Day Ever.

And that is all I have to say about that…

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