on the way to work this morning, i found myself pondering what to write about today, given that it's been over three weeks and i know at least half of my readers (both of you) have probably given me up for dead.
finishing the half-written post about the saga of my car was a thought, but i forgot my pile of receipts, which i'm using to illustrate just how badly the folks over at the AAA car care center felt the need to screw me. (sure, i could approximate, but really- i think my story males more of an impression if i use the actual figures.)
however, inspiration came in a different form after i arrived at work- in the form of a coworker who came in and informed me that his "buddy" won the 220-something million powerball jackpot a couple of weeks ago.
(it is worth noting at this point that the only reason "buddy" won is that i didn't remember it was wednesday until 10:15 that night....well past the powerball ticket purchasing cutoff time.)
anyway, it turns out that "buddy" and coworker used to work together, and after pointing out that useful little factoid, coworker remarked that he sure hoped "buddy" wouldn't "forget" about him.
are you kidding me? i mean, i've heard that after winning a big prize, one can expect all sorts of "long lost" relatives to appear....
"hi. i'm steve, your second cousin's uncle twice removed through marriage. we met at the '83 reunion...i was the tall guy. anyway, i'm having problems making the payments on my brand new hummer, and i was wondering........"
call me heartless and cruel, but the answer would be "no".
in fact, if it were possible to claim the prize and remain anonymous, i'd be all over it like botox in beverly hills.
i'd still work.
i'd still drive my present car until it hits ten years or 200,000 miles.
i'd still unplug the tv and microwave when i'm not using them.
i'd still eat kraft dinner. (hold the dijon ketchup.)
however, i'd probably be writing this from st. john, where i'd be hiking around and making faces at green iguanas for the next two weeks.
that might be what it takes to hide from random acquaintances planning on showing up at my door with their hands out.....like to coworker down the hall who, an hour later, is still going on about "buddy", his newfound wealth, and how close they were when they worked together. (which, to be honest, though admittedly a little catty, makes me wonder if "buddy" and my coworker ever shared an actual conversation, or just a ride in the elevator one monday morning......)
yet another in a long series of diversions in an attempt to avoid responsibility.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 08, 2009
hot fun in the summertime....
...perhaps thankfully, i don't actually know the lyrics to that song, so there is very little change of it replacing o.a.r., which is currently playing on my mental jukebox.
i just finished recording the weather reports for my radio shift, and again today, our high temperature is supposed to be in the upper 90s. i'm currently shivering in our highly air conditioned building, but when i get off work at noon, out into the blast furnace i go.
there was a report earlier this week about how an alarming number of american children are suffering from vitamin d deficiencies.
in this era of computer games, wiis, xboxes, playstations, and the internet, is this really a surprise? when was the last time you saw kids outside, playing, in the middle of the day? i mean, i hate to sound like an old fogey, but when i was little, mama would kick sibling and i outside and tell us not to come back for a couple of hours.
before anyone calls child welfare and asks them to act retroactively, i should point out that in the middle of summer, when temps in baltimore topped 85 degrees, we weren't kicked out for as long, and would be allowed in for tang and some quality time in front of the air conditioner vent.
summertime also inspired daddy to dig out the pool from the garage. the first one i remember was pretty small (then again, so were we) and had inflatable sides. i think there might have been rainbows on it, but frankly, the stronger memory is of the "discussion" i had with mama (i think i was about four at the time)about how i had to wear a swimsuit in the pool, or else i wasn't going to be allowed to get into it at all.
as we got older, we got a bigger pool, including the inground one in kansas city that was ripped out a few years ago....and when i headed off to college, there was the infamous elmo sprinkler. the point is: we still found ways to spend time outside.
so, i suppose i'll attempt to frolic in the sunshine after work (though i cannot promise to give it full effort, because really, how bouncy can one feel when it's 95 degrees), in an effort to stave off ailments brought on by vitamin d deficiency, and then perhaps i'll head home for a nap in front of the a/c vent- just like back in the day....
i just finished recording the weather reports for my radio shift, and again today, our high temperature is supposed to be in the upper 90s. i'm currently shivering in our highly air conditioned building, but when i get off work at noon, out into the blast furnace i go.
there was a report earlier this week about how an alarming number of american children are suffering from vitamin d deficiencies.
in this era of computer games, wiis, xboxes, playstations, and the internet, is this really a surprise? when was the last time you saw kids outside, playing, in the middle of the day? i mean, i hate to sound like an old fogey, but when i was little, mama would kick sibling and i outside and tell us not to come back for a couple of hours.
before anyone calls child welfare and asks them to act retroactively, i should point out that in the middle of summer, when temps in baltimore topped 85 degrees, we weren't kicked out for as long, and would be allowed in for tang and some quality time in front of the air conditioner vent.
summertime also inspired daddy to dig out the pool from the garage. the first one i remember was pretty small (then again, so were we) and had inflatable sides. i think there might have been rainbows on it, but frankly, the stronger memory is of the "discussion" i had with mama (i think i was about four at the time)about how i had to wear a swimsuit in the pool, or else i wasn't going to be allowed to get into it at all.
as we got older, we got a bigger pool, including the inground one in kansas city that was ripped out a few years ago....and when i headed off to college, there was the infamous elmo sprinkler. the point is: we still found ways to spend time outside.
so, i suppose i'll attempt to frolic in the sunshine after work (though i cannot promise to give it full effort, because really, how bouncy can one feel when it's 95 degrees), in an effort to stave off ailments brought on by vitamin d deficiency, and then perhaps i'll head home for a nap in front of the a/c vent- just like back in the day....
Sunday, August 02, 2009
who are you, again?
it's always a little disappointing to learn that something you've believed about someone for a very long time just isn't true.
first, it was the easter bunny. (i still dispute that one, as i once had my picture taken with the one and only easter bunny, after finding the golden egg at the woodlawn easter egg hunt back in 1986.*)
then, my sibling was kind enough to point out that kermit had poles stuck to his arms.
(i'd offer up the "luke, i am your father" example, but that's a bit cliché, don't you think?)
i was the last to find out that richard simmons, little richard, and george michael were gay. (i'm starting to have a sneaking suspicion about tim curry, too, but i'm still not quite sure.)
and please, don't ask how old i was when i learned that wasn't david bowie's real hair in the labyrinth. the answer is in the double digits, and i can't guarantee that the first digit is a "1".
i could go on and on, but after a point, one's ignorance becomes a little..... embarrassing.
the subject came up during dinner one night this week. while one of my companions was frantically searching for her debit card and worrying about the possibility of spending the rest of her night washing dishes, i pointed out that we could hold a telethon instead. after all, surely jerry lee lewis wasn't doing anything this weekend.
you know- jerry lee lewis. the guy who married his thirteen year old cousin, made a bunch of annoying comedies during the black and white era of television, and now does those "jerry's kids" telethons for muscular dystrophy. (despite this, he's still called "the killer", except during the telethons.....because it would be a little awkward, i suppose.)
i can't stand that guy. i mean, i admire the work he does for mda, but really- bonking a thirteen year old, a relative, and especially a thirteen year old who happens to be your relative- is just plain gross. furthermore, eddie murphy was far better as the nutty professor.
my "mistaken identity" problem was quickly pointed out to me- in stereo. since i did not completely escape the "stubbornness" gene that seems to be dominant in both of my parents, of course i swore i would google it (man- i remember when i was little and we actually had to go to the library so that mama could prove the existance of thomas crapper to me....maybe the nation's obesity epidemic can be blamed on the convenience of googling, rather than having to actually go to the library and wander around the stacks to do research....) when i got home, just so i could prove them wrong.
uh, yeah. my bad.
i suppose santa claus will be next.....
*yes, i have photo evidence of this....and i'm sure this rather stunning photo of myself will be all over the tabloids when i'm rich and famous.
first, it was the easter bunny. (i still dispute that one, as i once had my picture taken with the one and only easter bunny, after finding the golden egg at the woodlawn easter egg hunt back in 1986.*)
then, my sibling was kind enough to point out that kermit had poles stuck to his arms.
(i'd offer up the "luke, i am your father" example, but that's a bit cliché, don't you think?)
i was the last to find out that richard simmons, little richard, and george michael were gay. (i'm starting to have a sneaking suspicion about tim curry, too, but i'm still not quite sure.)
and please, don't ask how old i was when i learned that wasn't david bowie's real hair in the labyrinth. the answer is in the double digits, and i can't guarantee that the first digit is a "1".
i could go on and on, but after a point, one's ignorance becomes a little..... embarrassing.
the subject came up during dinner one night this week. while one of my companions was frantically searching for her debit card and worrying about the possibility of spending the rest of her night washing dishes, i pointed out that we could hold a telethon instead. after all, surely jerry lee lewis wasn't doing anything this weekend.
you know- jerry lee lewis. the guy who married his thirteen year old cousin, made a bunch of annoying comedies during the black and white era of television, and now does those "jerry's kids" telethons for muscular dystrophy. (despite this, he's still called "the killer", except during the telethons.....because it would be a little awkward, i suppose.)
i can't stand that guy. i mean, i admire the work he does for mda, but really- bonking a thirteen year old, a relative, and especially a thirteen year old who happens to be your relative- is just plain gross. furthermore, eddie murphy was far better as the nutty professor.
my "mistaken identity" problem was quickly pointed out to me- in stereo. since i did not completely escape the "stubbornness" gene that seems to be dominant in both of my parents, of course i swore i would google it (man- i remember when i was little and we actually had to go to the library so that mama could prove the existance of thomas crapper to me....maybe the nation's obesity epidemic can be blamed on the convenience of googling, rather than having to actually go to the library and wander around the stacks to do research....) when i got home, just so i could prove them wrong.
uh, yeah. my bad.
i suppose santa claus will be next.....
*yes, i have photo evidence of this....and i'm sure this rather stunning photo of myself will be all over the tabloids when i'm rich and famous.
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