My wife, who can not be named, wants no mention of herself or our children to appear in my blog.

My children, who can not be named, want no blogging, facebook or any social networking performed by me because it’s “perverted” and I must be a “pedophile” if done by such an old man. Any indication of living out loud by me is an anathema to them.

So I am prevented from much of my story telling because of their restrictions as well as many of my stories contain references to living individuals who may sue me, or kill me.

Therefore, I will try and be kind to people in writing, even my next door neighbors who may have been concerned by my May, 2008 disaster story.

Here’s a great photo from our local paper in which my wife appears, but only a partial photo of her behind Janet’s left ear. This may pass the test but I’d be in trouble probably for this one but since they will never read this, or so I am told, it will be OK.

Dad grows up a bit at a time

In August, 2007, my girls made arrangements (bought tickets at $35 each) to see Motion City Soundtrack, The Higher and two other bands (the names have escaped me but they were not their favorites as are the first two) in Toronto at a venue (club) called the Opera House, in a somewhat questionable part of the city.

We had agreed to drive them (although I can’t imagine why). There was a major rain storm and it took 2 hours and 15 minutes to get there (and 45 minutes to get home ) and we left them in a line of younger people (bar age, not high school age) and off we went.

My wife and I went out to dinner, toured the area a bit and returned to the neighborhood. We decided to go to Starbucks and wait and we parked and walked. We met a group of drunks having a conversation but did not join as we had no idea what they were saying. We continued to walk and found Starbucks closed. There was a donut shop back a ways and we walked there, and it was in a gas station. What a treat, coffee in the gas station, with a homeless guy in the washroom.

When he left I had to use it and when I left my wife had to use it as the women’s room seemed to be locked.

We then shopped in the drug store and waited for the girls. They stayed to buy t shirts and cd’s for a while and we watched everyone leave and began to panic but they eventually came out, having talked with the lead singer of The Higher who they love. He told them he loved them because they bought t shirts and cd’s. The cd’s were only $5 with the t shirt so it was a good deal anyway. Motion City Soundtrack people are too high up to come out and sign cd’s for fans, I am told.

My little girls grow up and I am tired! I never heard of these groups before!

Another totally meaningless story

I was wandering through Homesence, the Canadian version of the TJ Maxx Home store, when I saw a book on clearance that looked interesting. It was a small hardback called “Bloody Mary”, it was the drink story. Well, I hadn’t had one in years, they don’t really have them here, they have Cesar’s, which are made with clamato juice, and I don’t drink that.

My wife got excited and we decided to make some, and we determined by conjecture and then by a visit, that you can’t get the drink mix here. You can, of course, get tomato juice, which we did, and prepared it with all the other needed ingredients, but there was no Mr. and Mrs. T etc., the kinds of prepared mixes we all know and love.

The next week, my daughter’s high school English teacher had a trivia quiz, and asked if anyone knew what cocktail was made with vodka and tomato juice. She assumed the kids wouldn’t know it because it was a cultural anomaly, and she was surprised when my daughter knew the answer, she was the only one who did.

Later on, we went to the States and bought Mr. and Mrs. T. We told the story, at my cousin’s house, and she came running out of a back room with a big Bloody Mary gift box. It contained mix, glasses and glass stirrers. She had won this box and didn’t know what to do, so she gave it to us.

In D.C., while reading Bon Appetite magazine, Sandy read an article recommending the book, “Bloody Mary”, as a good resource.

There is some sort of a pattern here. So sit back and have a Bloody Mary for us…..

From the May, 2008 Disaster

My next door neighbor, for some reason, about a year and a half ago decided to put a surveyor’s stake in the ground between our houses. It’s rebar, and it’s in cement, and dangerous (it’s gone as of yesterday afternoon).

I was moving furniture from the front where I was assembling it (new patio furniture) to the back patio, when, during the last load of the umbrella and the tube that holds it etc., I hit the stake, tripped over it and smashed, head first, into the brick wall of his house. I was stopped somewhat by the thorny rose bushes I hit first embedding rose thorns into my scalp (I am allergic to rose thorns as well).

My knees hit the crumbling rocks and cement base, and the stones kind of left my knees with stone impressions, but bleeding ones.

I hit hard, had to eliminate bodily excesses which thankfully passed (the yearning, not the excess), started to pass out, saw stars etc., hit the ground in pain and thought I’d broken my knees.

When I calmed somewhat, I was screaming for Rosie and she came out, looked at me lying there, and returned to find her mother and told her she thought I was dead.

I pulled thorns out of my scalp, got onto my feet and went in and sat down with an ice pack on my neck which still hurts. The knees and the head are sore but OK and Motrin helps a lot. The glass of gin I drank with the Motrin helped even more, in fact it was so helpful I had another.

Guitar Hero ?

Seven years ago my family very generously bought me a new Martin D-15 guitar for my 60th birthday. I have cherished this guitar and played it these last years, and recently there has been a deterioration of the plastic pick guard, the piece that sits on the front to protect the wood from the pick.

It has been a gradual scratching, and then a tearing away of the surface. I was shocked as I’d never seen this happen on a guitar of mine, especially not a Martin. It was unheard of.

I thought about repair at the factory, and having visited them in Nazareth PA, I know they do repairs, but shipping internationally would be crazy for such a small thing. Then decided that I’d take it into a local store where it was purchased, to see if they could fix it for me. I planned to do this “soon”.

This morning I went to play the guitar to find it repaired! I was stunned! I ran into the kitchen to tell Sandy and Lilly what happened, it had healed, and yelled “look at this guitar, it’s repaired!”. Before I got it all out of my mouth Sandy said, “Oh, I removed that plastic cover over the pick guard, it was such a mess”………..

One of My Favorite Stories

A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in ahomespun threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked timidly withoutan appointment into the Harvard University President's outer office. The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hickshad no business at Harvard & probably didn't even deserve to be in Cambridge. "We'd like to see the president," the man said softly. "He'll be busy all day," the secretary snapped. "We'll wait," the lady replied. For hours the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would finallybecome discouraged and go away. They didn't, and the secre tary grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the president, even though it was a chore she always regretted. "Maybe if you see them for a few minutes, they'll leave," she said to him! He sighed in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his importance obviously didn't have the time to spend with them, and he detested gingham dresses and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office. The president, stern faced and with dignity, strutted toward the couple. The lady told him, "We had a son who attended Harvard for one year. Heloved Harvard. He was happy here. But about a year ago, he was accidentally killed. My husband and I would like to erect a memorial to him, somewhere oncampus." The president wasn't touched. He was shocked. "Madam," he said, gruffly, "we can't put up a statue for every person who attended Harvard and died. If we did, this place would look like a cemetery." "Oh, no," the lady explained quickly. "We don't want to erect a statue. We thought we would like to give a building to Harvard." The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and homespun suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any earthly idea how much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars in the physical buildings here at Harvard." For a moment the lady was silent. The president was pleased. Maybe he could get rid of them now. The lady turned to her husband and said quietly, "Is that all it costs to start a university? Why don't we just start our own? "Her husband nodded. The president's face wilted in both confusion and bewilderment.

Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford got up and walked away, traveling to Palo Alto, California where they established the university that bears their name, Stanford University, a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared about.

You can easily judge the character of others by how they treat those who they think can do nothing for them. ----

Hair Raising Tale December 2008

We were entering the US through the Queenston/Lewiston Bridge on Monday morning, and it was getting busy. We had a long wait, about 35 minutes, and we were finally pulling up to the gate. The guard, normally sullen, or somewhat smiley, but not on a busy day, was exuberant!

“One of you must have just come from the doctors”, he shouted with glee. “No”, I said, and he was sure one of us had been in the hospital. This was a strange line of questioning, for sure, and then he came in my side window with a “tricorder” (Startreck reference) and put it on my chest. Then he proceeded to try each of us in turn, and we all seemed to be negative, or something.

Then he gleefully asked me to pull the car over to where a woman guard was waiting, and leave her the car and step inside and we’d get our passports back in a bit, and not to worry for surely nothing was wrong.

We arrived inside of a Stephen King movie set, or it looked like one, with lots of strange people sitting around and standing around, and signs said to wait for our name to be called. Most of them were inside for other reasons, we think.

In a bit, (about 5 minutes), our names were called. And we had our passports returned and that was that. However, I did ask what this was all about.

It seems that one vehicle on the bridge seemed to contain radioactive material. Our car was registering radioactive, and sometimes people who have had implants or certain tests in hospitals can set off their equipment. They thought we were probably not the ”bad guys”, but the car had to be checked before we could go forward. Radioactivity spreads through vehicles and can cling to another car I guess.

I checked before we went to bed last night to see if any of us were glowing, but we were safe. We were definitely shook up by the experience.

Christmas 2007 Car Accident

With a trip at hand, we began to get sick. First Rosie, then Sandy (our company arrived from Australia for a few days and Sandy worked hard at being good, but she did some throwing up in secret. Than Lilly was sick and added a fever to the mix, and then it was my turn.

We put off our December 26 trip until the 27th, and we went to New Jersey, usually an 8-10 hour trip. Max was in the kennel the day before as planned and off we went.

Past Buffalo, on the New York thruway, I got very tired, having already driven about 2 and a half hours, with a slight fever. I told Sandy I would have her drive as soon as we reached the next rest stop, as it’s too dangerous to stop on the highway and change drivers. It was just another 15 miles to go.

I was going about 65 mph in the left lane when I either passed out or fell asleep, but the result was the same. I awoke as we went careening off the road to the left, and the noise of the gravel woke me up. Traffic was coming behind me and was of course coming the other way. It was 10 a.m. and clear, thankfully (‘cause I’m still here to tell the story).

I was heading for a roadside pole (a highway marker I guess) and I was bound to hit it or flip over and roll. The ditch would have stopped me from going into oncoming traffic, probably. I slammed the brakes and cut to the right. The car began to roll left, hit the pole (like a pool ball) and bounced back off, glass went crashing into the car, and I did a 180, and landed in the right lane facing backwards on the highway. Thankfully, all traffic behind me (now in front of me) stopped.

I could not believe my eyes, everyone was alive (Lilly had a glass cut), all traffic stopped and the road looked like a weird movie shoot. I checked to see if the car was running, it was, and pulled the wrong way onto the right shoulder.

I waved to the traffic to go on, got my snow brush out and brushed out the window glass from the driver’s window, and got out of there as fast as possible in order not to get a reckless driving ticket.

Three miles ahead at the service center, our original destination, I bought a roll of Scotch tape and took a garbage bag and covered the window. A few miles ahead, I found a Home Depot and bout some heavy plastic sheeting (I couldn’t see through it of course) and some duct tape and taped up the window. I drive another 8 hours with very high wind noise coming from the plastic covering and tried not to get a ticket for driving with no window.

The rest was less problematic. I did finally find someone to replace the window so we could go home on the 30th, and I have a dented door and a broken (sheered off) running board but nothing else wrong.

I scared myself to death, and we drove home changing drivers every time we felt tired.

Seven Year Old Shopping Story

The Hunter Gatherer Spirit

I went to Old Navy at lunchtime on Wednesday to see what might be on sale. I hit it at the right time as they have clearance on sale at 65% off regular prices, or at least that was what the sign says. I asked an Old Navy employee about it and I was told, no, it’s really 30 or 35% off the last price, or off the last price it was even if the price had not been changed. I figured I’d find out when I went to check out what the prices were.

As a shopper, I am a bottom feeder by training. I’m not happy until they pay me to take it away. On the down side, I buy dumb stuff sometimes because it’s so cheap.

I tried on lots of stuff, and took four things to the register.

The lady in front of me had a few ladies tops, striped, in a few choices and they came up $1.39 on the register. When I saw the second one come up that number, I asked if I was seeing right. Yes, I was told, they were $1.99 less 30%. So, I got out of line and went over and bought five of them. Three of one color (black and red), all in a ladies large, a medium light green, waffle weave one with jewels and a black and tan in an extra large. The ladies large’s fit 7 year old Lilly and 10 year old Rosie just fine. The extra large fits Sandy, who is no extra large.

My bill, with nine items, and 15% Canadian taxes, was $53. In US dollars this is 12 cents or so.

I went back yesterday but the $1.39 items were gone and I needed some things for the girls (head bands for ears) and they were very cheap in some colors, but full price in others. The register was the only way I could tell. I did buy another shirt while I was there, and it was 69% off.

Retail is fun for the consumer, I think.

The Sofa

The sofa in my living room has an interesting history, or so I was told.

In 1870 (or so) a Captain (Sea Captain) Craddock passed away, leaving two “maiden “ daughters. These daughters inherited the their fathers house and possessions, and renovated the home with many new furnishings. The house was situated in NW Baltimore County, (on Craddock Lane), just outside of the City of Baltimore, Maryland.

In about 1905, an itinerant woodcutter, the story goes on, chopped the wood and then “did in” the Craddock sisters. The Craddock sisters, having no direct heirs, left the house and furnishings to their minister, the Reverend Jensen, of the Episcopal Church. The Reverend Jensen, upon his death, left his estate to his son, the Reverend Jensen of the local Episcopal Church. Upon his death, the reverend Jensen left his estate to his son, the Reverend Jensen of the Episcopal Church. This was a friend of mine, Tom Jensen.

Tom passed away when he was in his early 40’s (about 1972) and left his estate to his estranged wife and in trust for his kids and many items were donated to the Maryland Historical Society. The house and land had been sold years earlier to make way for suburban development, and the estate was broken up at the time of his death. I went through the new house after the appraisers had gone, and was able to purchase items that were not deemed significant to be included with the estate. I ended up with a secretary and a sofa, and the sofa was pink and patterned with and included lots of upholstery buttons, but not believed to be the original fabric. I eventually had it recovered and cleaned up the wood a bit, but it is still the Craddock sisters sofa as far as we are concerned. It is not haunted, but it has stood the test of time.

The $300 Night Light

We have an over the range microwave oven, which has a fan and a light in the bottom of it. This is a Jenn-Air which was about $600, and is about 3 or 4 years old. (OK, I paid $400 and it was an out-of-date model!)

I replaced a bulb in the bottom portion, used to light the range below it and it becomes a night light. I twisted the bulb the wrong way because it’s in a backwards position and it came apart in my hand. This caused a big bang, and a flash and no more light working.

I checked around and there was no separate fuse. I used a meter and there was no electricity. I gave up.

Sandy wanted it fixed, and we found a guy who was willing to come out and look, as most appliance repair places will not bother with microwaves.

The visit, with tax, was $77. I fried the board, and to replace it will be $179 plus $30 labor. Sandy wants her light. The oven is still good and a new one (of the same brand and size) is $600.

I have now ordered the $300 night light!