Rocky Mountain High

…off to visit the Boy Child!  Yee-haa!!!

Back, hopefully with post material galore, next week.

The key is under the mat.  The raptor has been fed.  Don’t worry about that strange smell from the attic.

Word of the Moment – Feral

At a business meeting recently, I ran into an ex-colleague I’d not seen in quite some time.  Now, since last I saw her, I’ve let my hair grow quite a bit longer*.  As I walked into the conference room, she looked at me, then immediately looked away as if I was a total stranger (eh…i’m used to that reaction from women…).  Then followed that cartoon-like slow return look and eyes widening in recognition.

Ex-Colleague – GnuKid!  I didn’t recognize you with your long hair.

GnuKid (rarely one to give a straight reply) – Well, I’ve gone feral.

Ex-Colleague – Huh?  You mean like Will Ferrell?

GnuKid (gritting his teeth and trying not to say something overly sarcastic) – Uh…no.

Luckily, one of ex-colleague’s co-workers came to my rescue and gave her the definition.  It was mostly right on to the definition found in our handy-dandy internet dictionary – –

FERAL:  “having reverted to the wild state, as from domestication”.

I like feeling “Undomesticated”.   Grrrrr…..

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*It’s winter.  I’m not looking for that next promotion.  I’m too lazy to go to the barbershop that often.  I sort of like it long.  And even better?  A lady friend likes it long.**

**No, that’s not a euphemism…***

***…well, okay, maybe it is…****

****…or not…you decide for yourself…

CI Homage 20Feb09

Otto obstinately drew a line in the sand.

Not surprisingly, Constance stepped across that line.  And, as usual, did so with her typical sneer of presumed superiority in her impending obfuscation.

“Justify yourself!”, she screamed.

Otto complied grudgingly, spreading himself evenly across what he could only presume would be the last page of this chapter of his life.

Constance’ triumphant glare was cut short when a crashing wave of reality washed away the line in the sand…making the whole argument pointless.

Exorcism

My car was possessed.

I drive an 11-year old car… almost as good as 12-year old Scotch!

When I bought it brand-new way back then, one of the things the salesman pushed was that the car had a security system.  Nowadays, seems every car bought off the lot has a factory installed security system that will lock and unlock the car from a remote, as well as set an anti-theft alarm.  Well, back then, only the real expensive cars had factory installed systems.  Most, like mine off the lot, had ‘after market’ systems.  In other words, after leaving the production line, some kid at a small business installed the alarm system locally.

For some 8 years, the system worked great.  Using the handy key fob contraption, I could lock and unlock the car from a distance.

Then the demons descended on the car.  First, the remote refused to work.  Randomly at first, but ultimately ceasing to function altogether.  I could still lock and unlock the car using the good, old-fashioned key in the lock method.  Sometimes the old ways are the best.

Then the ghosts absconded with the car.  The alarm system began to go off  by itself.  At first, it was only when I hit the clutch before locking the car.  Then it was totally random.  When unlocking the car.  When locking the car.  When getting into the car.  Annoying to say the least.  And, since the key fob no longer worked, the only way to shut off the alarm was to hit a secret ‘kill’ switch while simultaneously starting the car.  This required me to use the yoga position sometimes called the “Constipated Duck” in order to get both done at the same time.

Things go worse.  Not quite as bad as Stephen King’s Christine, but bad…

First was when I went to visit a friend and had it go off in the quiet, midnight neighborhood, only to find I’d gotten into the “Bulemic Panda” yoga position and couldn’t find the ‘kill’ switch.  After at least 10 embarrassing seconds of the alarm screaming in the middle of the night, I finally found the switch and got the alarm off and the car started.

Next was when I did the right yoga position, but the alarm refused to go off anyway.  It wasn’t until I tried such random things as opening the door while doing the switch/key combo, that it worked.

The final straw was when it quit and would not start, even with the right combo of switch and ignition.  Now, that would be merely aggravating, had it not been for the fact I was in the middle of a crowded parking lot.

So, today, I took it to the local car alarm exorcist and had the demons and ghosts exorcised… for a hefty fee, of course.  I have to lock the car manually now [gasp!]… just like the good old days.  But it seems to work…

…but I bet the poltergeists are just waiting for the proper time to attack again… like in the middle of a funeral procession or just when I’m getting frisky with a woman… or both…  ;->

Blog, Ho!

Ran into an old work acquaintance, GZ, who moved to another division, and was reminded of a story.

When working in the same office, we quickly found out we grew up in the same rural neighborhood some 200 miles away.  Okay, he’s 10 years older than me, but nonetheless.  He knew some of my older cousins.  We both laughed because “…no one is from there…”, yet here we were working in the same place a state away.

Now, GZ’s hobby… and back up, deputy, adjacent, assistant job… is to referee football and basketball games for local high schools.  Now, GZ is a smart man, but not worldly.  And he freely admits such, emphasizing the point with the following story.

GZ was a referee in a junior high school (middle school, in some parlances) girls’ basketball game.  One school was from ‘this side of the tracks’… squeaky clean, middle class, young ladies.  The other school was from ‘the other side of the tracks’…cigarette smoking, tattoo bearing, tough-as-nails thug-ettes.

The game was hard fought, with the lead passing back and forth between the two teams.  Maybe because it was so close, maybe because of the differences in social background, maybe “just because”… things got a little feisty between the girls.

Now, as a referee, GZ is charged with not only ensuring the game is played fairly within the rules, but also must make sure a level of sportsmanship is maintained as well.  After a particularly nasty interchange between some girls near the ‘this side of the tracks’ bench, one of their coaches complained to GZ – –

Squeaky Clean Coach – “Hey, Ref!  You need to get control here.  You need to throw out that one girl.  She just called one of my players a ‘Ho!’ right in front of me.”

Referee GZ – “So what?  What should I care that the other team is calling your player a garden tool name?”

And those of us listening to GZ’s story?  <blink>… <blink>… <blink>…

Nothing more to be said.

Occasional Help

We’re all doing the best we can wandering our way through life. Often we need help from others, for that gentle nudge…or for the forceful kick in the ass…in a better direction. Or maybe just someone to cheer us on or cheer us up.  Consider this an open advertisement from me for the latter… a ‘special’ kind of latter—

Ed. Note to All (added the day after the post and based on comments and e-mails received)  –  I think I blew the true message I was trying to convey… yes, we all need cheerleaders in our life, to help us out.  I was not trying to imply that I am in an especial need of such due to gloom and depression at this juncture.  Rather, I was more hoping that I could get a volunteer who is a fishnet-stockinged, short skirt wearing, hottie to cheer me “up” (if you get my drift).  All’s as well as can be expected under the circumstances here in The Wilds.

Romantic Thoughts

My first Valentine’s Day ‘alone’… nope, still not divorced, but definitely living on my own.  Valentine’s Day often leads men and women to thoughts of romance and lurve…

i’m.  just.  not.  into.  it.

and, honestly?  that’s okay…

but, thoughts of the wife on this day were dredged up when i found this card…

[sigh]  if i’d only sent it… (and, no, i won’t).

Hope all of you get what you want… and don’t get what you don’t want… this Valentine’s Day.

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