So it goes...

I went golfing with the fellas today. It was as gruesome as could be expected. While I hit every drive decently, the rest of my game resembled a spastic pirate on crack. Arrghh ! Let's just say that I didn't break 60, and yes, that was for 9 holes, not 18. I figure if you take away those 3 nines I shot, I did really average. Throw those in though and...well I'm sore. It is absolutely the hardest game on the planet. Any man that says it's for sissies (as I once did) has never played the game. It's one of those games that's 95% mental, 5% physical. Here's what goes through my head in 9 holes. Hole #: 1. Not a bad start. It's going to be a good day. Look at the weather! 2. Whoa, that drive was a bit of a slice. Better luck next hole. 3. A seven on a par 4? C'mon Jim, get your head in the game. 4. There we go a bogey, only one over. You're a star. 5. What was that? You did everything wrong that hole. 6. I'm not very good, but I'm better tha...

I freed my bike from captivity today. The bike technician pirates at Cyclesmith released it to me after a week and a day. I had messed up my derailleur (that's french for "expensive, complicated, shifter-thingy) to the point where it would not hit 1st, 8th, or 15th gear. I could have lived with that reality, but knowing there would come a hill that required 8th and only 8th gear, I had to have it fixed. For sanity sake, you see. Because I'm nuts that way. I paid my $17.33 and was again the proud owner of a 14 year old Trek. Now, rumor has it that my wife, bless her heart, was actually planning on getting me a new bike for Father's Day. While I was originally overwhelmed and excited about the prospect, having my old bike back suddenly changed all that. I took it out for a test ride after I got it back tonight and was happy as a clam. "Why in the world would I need a new bike?" This one rides fine. I'm used to the riding position and know how it handles lik...

I was auditing a writing class tonight so did not get to blog as I'd hoped (Wed. and Sat/Sun). I'm very excited about the class and all it holds. It starts on June 17th. I will try to get a blog post in Tomorrow. Stay tuned. Blogging off...

The blogging door was open so I had to go through it. This despite the fact that the dog needs a walk and countless house projects beckon. C'mon it's Sunday, cut me some slack. We have issues with our new ATT DVR lately that the stupid thing pixels out every minute or so, to the point of missing some key dialog at points. I decided to take some action on this last week and called 1-800- ATT - ISNOGOOD or some catchy number like that. I got a very nice woman who, bless her non-American heart, was trying her best to be a good technical help, but failed. Now, I had 30 minutes alloted for this call, because I had a meeting to go to, but figured it wouldn't take more than 10 minutes or so. Well, the introduction and contact information exchange took 10 minutes. It's like every time I make a service call they've never heard of me before. Name, address, State, sexual orientation, political party affiliation. Yep, all the same as the last time I talked to you. The line...

Ah, I love the 40's. That's the great time in life when the fillings that hurt so much getting them as a 13 year old start to rust and fall out. You would think something made out of mercury, aluminum, and kryptonite would last longer than 30 years. Am I being unrealistic here? Surely not. In any case, I had 2 of them done today. Back left molars if you must know. Big honkin' fillings from what I can tell. I can't open my mouth far enough to see them because she (my dentist) made me open my mouth so far, it messed up my TMJ, another gift that keeps on giving into your 40's. Seriously, I can only open my mouth about 50% of what is usual. If I had to speak this blog right now, it wouldn't be happening, my friend. If it was, you'd only hear 50% of it, or every other word. Now there's some people in life I WISH I could only hear 50% of, but unfortunately they don't know who they are. What a great superpower that would be though, eh? "Half Speak...

Once a song by a band Killing Joke, the title comes to mind today when the temps dipped into the 80's for much of the day. I had forgotten how blue a cloudless sky could be. So yesterday was the Boys Club post-mortem appreciation meeting combined with the planning for the Crystal River canoe trip in June. The meeting was conducted in the essence of all prior Boys Club events and meetings, namely shameless disorder, confusion, randomness and frequent loss of direction. It started with a prayer, and frankly, that's about where the focus ended. The rest was random, mindless opinion, undocumented hearsay, pointless long-winded personal stories, all interspersed with a plate of the best lasagna I've had in quite a while. Like most County Government meetings, the best thing about it was the food, in this case Italian, not donuts. Over dinner, the topic turned to Big Oil, CAFE Standards, electric cars and bio-diesel. One gentleman claimed that China is ready to turn out a 300 mi. ...

I think the relationship has come to an end. The beast is dying. It even smells of death. The Kirby Heritage Classic is on life support. The motor revs up and down like it's getting power surges all the time now. The headlight works all the time know, to the point where my kids were asking when we put a light on the vacuum. I think it's just kind of a last gasp for the old girl before she shuts out her light for good. It is a mixed blessing for me. Technology wise, it's a bit like pushing a Harley Davidson around the room when the rest of the world is using mopeds. I know "nothing cleans like a Kirby" and all that, but you know what? I'm willing to try. We went out and got a new Eureka today and I feel like a man who's having an affair or something. After years of dutiful, beautiful service, I'm dumping the beast like so much baggage. Heartless *!&%. When I think of the pounds of cat and dog hair she's suffered through, and the stray shoelaces ...