I'm not quite sure how to use my cel-phone for anything other than calling someone. I don't like to brag about this sort of thing, but I've got a Pantech which cost me nearly FIFTY dollars. Yeah, I know; wow!
I was pushing away at random buttons, trying to delete this picture, (yes, it has a camera!) when it suddenly told me "Sent."
Sent? Whatthe..? Sent to whom? I frantically started stabbing more buttons, going through more menus. I was thinking through all the people in my "contacts" list, trying to guess which one had gotten this picture, with no explaination. It could have been:
My former boss
A corporate guy in our New York office
The guy we sold our yogurt store to last year
A neighbor from our old house in Indiana.
My daughter's school
And on and on. This was going to take some 'splainin!
Finally, I got to the "sent messages" menu, where I was relieved to learn that the lucky recipients of this lovely self-portrait were the good people at AT&T Customer Care. I hope they like it! Glad I didn't try to delete any of the nudie pics!
I was washing the dishes the other night, when the first housefly of spring started buzzing around my head. I reached for the first thing I could use as a swatter, which happened to be the "Watchtower" pamphlet, given to my wife by some friendly Jehovah's Witnesses at our door.
After a few noisy swats against the kitchen cupboards, my daughter, who loves animals, came in and yelled "What are you doing? No! No!"
The scene just got uglier as I jumped around the kitchen, using a religious pamphlet to try to flatten an insect into oblivion, while my 10-year-old screamed "Murderer! Murderer!" At this point it occurred to me that this whole thing just didn't feel right. I opened the back door, and with some effort, managed to shoo the thing out to the back yard.
For those offended by the thought of trying to use the Watchtower as the instrument of death for a housefly, please note that it, instead, became the means by which the creature was shooshed out to safety.
My daughter was happy with the outcome, and I didn't mention anything to her about the many hungry birds in our yard looking for a nice, juicy insect dinner.
And if it means anything, here's the headline on the pamphlet!
My son and I went to Sam's Club yesterday and picked out the following items: two "take 'n bake" pizzas, a case of canned pineapple and one large bag of prunes. In my world, that's a shopping cart that says par-tay!
We carefully picked out our checkout lane. There's an art to this. You can't just pick the shortest line; you also have to look at how many items are in other people's carts. I'll take a long line where people only have a couple items (like us) over a shorter line with 2 carts that are loaded up like the Beverly Hillbillies truck.
However, shortly after we got in line, a "gentleman" with a hugely overstuffed cart said "excuse me" and shoved his cart right in front of us! His wife was standing in line in front of us without a cart, saving a spot for them! I'd seen her, but thought she was with the group with a cart ahead of us!
Not wanting to get into a "Sam's Club rumble" in front of my impressionable teenager, I made a confused face, then just moved over to a better line.
Now, I ask you; is this fair? Can you hold a place in line for somebody with a shopping cart? It's my position that the cart itself has to be in line in order for you to officially be "in-line." Am I wrong on this? Was this guy right? And do you want some prunes, pizza and pineapple?
Today was supposed to be casual friday around here, so I put on the new jeans I bought a couple weeks ago. (Not shown here! But this is the idea!) Unfortunately, I'd just washed them for the first time, and now they are way too tight! They also lost an inch or two in length, so not only am I stuffed into tight jeans, I also have exposed ankles.
Just off the phone with my wife Lisa, who said "Yeah, right. The jeans shrunk. That's my excuse too."
"They DID," I insisted,
"Yeah, that's what every woman says; 'the jeans shrunk!'"
But in my case, it's true. And all that Mountain Dew and Oreos the last few weeks had NOTHING to do with it!
I'm pleased to see a couple favorites of mine join the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame! Heart is a band that completely blew me away years ago at a concert, and I've been a fan ever since. They're one of those rare bands that sounds better live than they do on recordings. You just have to be there, but they really rock.
Donna Summer takes me back to my younger days when I'd listen to pop music on my little transistor AM radio, and l remember loving "Love To Love You Baby" and "Hot Stuff." I've always been more of a pop-music fan than a hard-rocker, and I'm glad the Hall is opening up the doors a little wider for pop acts! Donna would be so proud!
(BTW, I have a good fan who's a huge Rush fan, so congrats to those guys too!)
I don't think anyone's noticed yet, but today I smell like my garage (shown here). On the way out the door I grabbed an otherwise clean, blue hooded sheatshirt (It says "Orlando"on it!) that's been hanging in the garage a couple weeks.
It's a combination of garage dust, oil and tires, which I think is a delicious, macho, he-man smell that Ralph Lauren should contact me about bottling if he really wants to make a buck or two. In the meantime, I think I'll put some more clothes out there!
I'm getting increasingly annoyed by the people (shown here) on TV ads for casinos. Have you been to a casino? Where, exactly, are they keeping all these 23-year-old beautiful, well dressed fancy people who smile a lot, then jump up and down in slow-motion when they win? (They're so sophisticated too! They drink wine!)
The actual people in every casino I've been to have been regular people, like my parents (shown here).
Another sad day today. Today I've been thinking about how I'm going to discuss this with my kids. The other day we were thinking about taking our kids to a movie, and they both said they were scared of somebody shooting them. Seems like our kids are growing up in a world where they have to be scared all the time.
It's all changed so much since we were kids. When I was 9, my parents put me on a Greyhound bus alone for 6 hours to go visit my cousin. Later, as teenagers, we'd drive over to the airport and wander around just watching people and watching the planes take off. You could walk right up to the gate without a ticket or even a good reason to be there. Nothing like either of those could happen today.
I don't know if we were actually safer back then, but I know we weren't as scared as my kids are now. I hope it's not always this way.
I'd just like to reassure the vast majority of everyone that your teeth are white enough already!
I just saw a commercial for toothpaste that whitens teeth, then one for mouthwash that whitens teeth, then one for, I think, special shoes that whiten teeth. Then an "entertainment reporter" came on with these ridiculous glowing choppers that sort of blurred everything around them, like looking straight into the sun does.
Some people are clearly going too far and are beginning to resemble some sort of electric-mouthed space aliens. Clearly the toothpaste/dentist/mouthwash/CIA/Cuban/entertaiment reporter syndicate behind this scheme is making a big pile of money, having convinced everyone that you're a worthless toad unless you have a mouthfull of 500 watt lightbulbs.
You're not. You look fine. Relax.