Wanna know why I could never be in the olympics? Could it be that I’m 46 years old you ask? No, not that. Could it be that a beer gut gets in the way of most Olympic events? No, not that. Could it be that a workout routine for me consists of dumping the leaves out of the hammock before climbing in? Easy there pal, these are rhetorical questions! No, the truth is, I could never wear this crap they make the winning athletes wear. Look at this. Continue reading “Olympics”
When I see old people, acting like old people, I think to myself ‘Man, I hope that doesn’t happen to me when I get to be that age’. Deep down I know it will but even deeper down I have this idea that I will be able to prepare for it ahead of time. This summer I decided to build a deck around one area of the pool. I estimated materials and cost and figured it would take a whole weekend. It ended up taking three weeks and two trips to the doctor for ailments I didn’t even think were related. I was truely at a loss, even frustrated, when I tried to explain what was taking so long to complete this damn deck.
Okay, I got the night off from the Flight School due to weather and I’m thinking great, now I have extra time; I can do a couple things from my weekend to-do list and still have time to watch some baseball. WRONG. Circuit breaker keeps poping so I have to troubleshoot a mass of wires and cords in the dark, in the attic. The previous owner was an absolute wiring genius. If you want to turn on the back yard flood lights, you simply drag a ladder into the basement, climb up and push out a ceiling tile, reach above the ceiling until you find a pull string which turns on a light bulb above the ceiling but also turns on the flood lights! I can’t believe no one else has thought of this. What I like to do is leave the ladder there until I’m done with the back yard flood lights. That way, I don’t have to bring it back in to turn them off. Pretty smart, huh.
Anyway, the “attic schematic” is very similar, so all I really had to do was reroute a few extension cords (you know, the ones they make especially for attics) and tape up some exposed wires and Viola! Back in bidness.
My day was pretty much normal. Went to Publix at lunch to pick up some personal stuff. Why the hell are razor blades so expensive? What exactly is it about these plastic encased shards of metal. Six bucks for a box of 8? It’s not like a jeweler has to set them. Oh, nevermind, I just realized, mine have that special lubricating bar on them. I forgot about that. That explains it. What is that, teflon? Have I mentioned that I invented teflon? Oh yeah. It’s in my bio somewhere.
Just one personal note for women today. If your husband/boyfriend/partner is watching the late innings of a tied ballgame and the bases are loaded with one out, and the pitcher he just traded for on his fantasy baseball team stands to get the win with a mere single, there is a strong possibility that your words may fall on deaf ears. I think you should know this ahead of time. It’s no reflection on you, we don’t think you’re unimportant, we don’t love you any less and we’re not trying to be disrespectful. It’s just the way God made us. It’s like trying to get the attention of your dog when your child is walking through the house with a sandwich. It just can’t happen.
Recently I gave in to my girlfriends prodding to get my hair highlighted. I’ve always liked that look, but I’ve been afraid that my age was more condusive to Grecian Formula than highlighting. Anyway, I had it done as an experiment and here’s what I learned. Men hate it, women like it, kids love it. The most passionate response has come from men though. “Dude, you been surfing?”, “Trying to look younger?”, “Hit by lightning?”, and “Did you join a boy band?” were some of the male comments. I smiled and returned the banter, but you know what, in most cases I could have responded “Yeah, you should try it on your gray.” or “When you still have hair, you can do things like this.” But I didn’t…
Wow, what a great weekend here in Georgia. Sunday I went horseback riding on Boomer in Dawson Forest, less than an hour north of Atlanta. On Saturday though, it was Sir Jay day.
The poor guy is going through a lot. He’s a very young Thoroughbred who doesn’t seem to know how horses are supposed to act. In fact, he’s more like a big lanky dog then a TB racehorse. When you call him from the pasture, half the time he will run to you and slam on the brakes at the last minute. It’s a huge thrill to see an animal that big so excited to see you. Sunday, when I called the horses and Jay began running, my Quarter Horse Boomer started running too but then he stopped and started looking around like he didn’t want any of the other horses to see him running like a 5 year-old TB. How embarrassing would that be? I’d hate for him to have to stand around the hay bails with his Quarter Horse buddies while they harass him about running through the pasture to see his human. Continue reading “Sir Jay Day”