A Faint Glimmer of Hope from a Future Generation

I overheard some members of the 6th grade baseball team singing this song today.  One of them said, "I have a picture of this on my phone."  I don't quite understand how you can have a picture of a song, but at least some youngsters have good taste in music.

Dude, where's my car?

It was some time ago (about three weeks, I think) that I dropped off my car at the body shop to repair the hail damage from back in March.  The reason it has taken so long is that the repairmen needed my insurance company to send the adjuster back out, because the adjuster's estimate was lower than any of the body shop estimates I received.  Well, that and the body shop couldn't order my new roof until the insurance company approved it.  (Apparently, taking the car inside and looking at it under lights revealed a lot more dings than the adjuster could see outside.)

My insurance also covers the cost of a rental car (up to a certain limit).  If this were a quick fix, I wouldn't have bothered, since I walk to work.  However, I also have to get to bowling every Wednesday and Tubby's for Cheesesteak Friday, and I need a car for that.  The rental company provided me with a Jeep Liberty.  It's just a little larger than my car (a Chevrolet Equinox), and the gear shift is in a slightly different location (so when I put my hand out, the gear shift wasn't there, where I expected it to be).

When you're driving, do you ever jokingly tell yourself (or your passengers), "Hey, there's my car!" when you see the same model (especially one in the same color) on the road?  (And your passengers chuckle politely, because it's not really all that witty.)  Well, it was an eerie feeling when I drove by the repair shop and saw my car in their lot.  Hey, that really was my car!

I've been without my rental for a week now, since the insurance only paid for two weeks.  Thing One drove me to bowling on Wednesday night.  I'm supposed to get my car back today (Elmer Fudd will take me there after work).  It had better be ready, since Thing One and her mom still are on their diet, and it would be cruel to ask her to take me to Tubby's tonight.  I don't need my car; I need a cheesesteak!

One Week On

It has been a week since I stopped shaving, to grow a mustache for the Mustache Bash.  I have different thoughts every time I look into a mirror.  I think I look different... weird... like my uncle (the only one in the family with facial hair)... older... like Snidely Whiplash...  Did you see that none of my thoughts was that I looked good?

When I go to my barber next week for my regular haircut, I'll ask if he can take it off when I'm through.  (My friend Robomarkov said I could reduce it with a beard trimmer then shave, but I don't have to want to buy something for just one use in my lifetime.)  Or, maybe I could leave the mustache on until my birthday a month later, then have the barber I took Robomarkov to last year (which I still haven't blogged about, have I?) do it, kind of as a birthday present to myself.

Actually, that sounds kind of nice:  defeat aging a year by removing the mustache that makes me look older!

Little-Known Numbers

You can never get enough Muppets, and these songs aren't commonly heard.

This first is an absolute gem by Link Hogthrob.



This second doesn't have much in the way of lyrics, but it sure is catchy.



Now where's dessert?

I am the epitome of who I am.

Or should that be "whom"?

Anyway, I have spent a couple of very relaxing evenings watching my newest acquisitions:  DVD sets of Fawlty Towers and The Muppet Show.  (Sure, there are some good things about television in this decade.  I just haven't found them yet.)  I am feeling much better after a bad week at work last week.

Last night, Kermit sang "It's Not Easy Being Green" to me, and it was stuck in my head when I woke up this morning.  During my workout, I fixed on the line "or tall, like a tree".  Where else could Cap'n Chlorophyll pick up on a reference to his height and love of plants?  That's when I thought of the title for this post.  Mind you, if you're a short, skinny, possum-faced individual, you can probably find references to yourself, too.  I don't know.



It's beautiful, and I think it's what I want to be.

I might end up looking like the Pringles guy.

I have been invited to a Mustache Bash in a few weeks.  (It's a party to honor the St. Bernard's 40th birthday.)  The invitation says, "Mustaches will be provided," but I figure they can save one for a woman and I'll grow my own.  (Why mustaches, I'm not sure, since the St. Bernard bears a Van Dyke.)  I've never tried growing facial hair before; the most I've ever done is go a weekend without shaving.  The last time I did that, I was dismayed by how many gray hairs there were (are).  Do I really want the rest of the world to see them all above my upper lip?  (Plus, there probably will be more hairs on my face than on the top of my head.)

This morning was the first I didn't shave.  It was weird not spreading shaving cream between my mouth and my nose.  After I shaved my neck, the remaining shaving cream made me look like I had an Amish beard.  I think no one will notice today, or they might think I just missed a spot when shaving.  I figure the comments will come on Monday.

What better place to stash my 'lucky charms'?

After long last (and a bad week at work, which started last Thursday, so I hope the week ended on Wednesday), I had a good night at bowling (20 pins above my old average, and 40 pins above my current average).  I figured I'd have another bad night, what with the unpleasantness at work (which, naturally, caused me to lose sleep) and the stiffness in my upper back from pressure washing all morning.

I tried to hold myself right (but not relax too much or be too stiff).  I tried to approach at the right speed (don't rush, but don't go too slowly, either).  I kicked my foot a little more than usual (which I noticed more when I got strikes, so that might have helped).  I tried to figure out what I was doing differently.

Of course, it might've been the shirt I wore, which I hadn't worn to bowling before.  Or was it the different kind of socks?  It couldn't have been the shorts, since I've worn them before and not bowled well.  How about the new underwear -- a new style, and fresh out of the package?  Well, the whole reason I wore new (or different) clothes was because I had showered after work (even though I had my rainsuit on while pressure washing, schmutz still made it through to my skin), and that's not something I normally do, either.

Alas, too many variables to test.

Yesterday sucked.

After I vacuumed my office, I noticed that a paper clip had gotten caught in my vacuum cleaner.  It also seemed like the hose attachment had lost suction, so I decided to open up the machine and see what I could see.

The attachment suction was fixed by removing the bag (which needed replacing anyway) and clearing out the blockage of dead leaves from my houseplants.  (Can I still call them houseplants if they're in my office?)  The paper clip would need a little more doing.  Instead of snapping off and on like my mom's vacuum, the bottom plate of mine is screwed on.  So, dig out the screwdriver, and...

Wow, that's a lot of dust in there!  There was so much dust, it was crammed into crevices like that gray, foamlike weatherstripping you sometimes see.

Funnily enough, the vacuum performed much better after I cleaned and reassembled it.  Oh, I also got the paper clip out.  I don't know where that long, blond hair came from, though.

Green Eggs and Ham

Since Sunday was a holiday, I decided to do something different for breakfast.  I had scrambled eggs, bacon, and waffles.  For Easter dinner, Thing One prepared a ham.  One of the side dishes was deviled eggs.  So, I ended up having pork and eggs for breakfast and dinner.

As she sent me home with leftovers, she asked if I wanted green food coloring.  I told her I already have some.  (I think I do.  I know I have red, for making my candy cane cookies, but I think I have green for something, too.)

Here's Thunderboomer!

We finally had a thunderstorm tonight, after nearly three days of not having the rain which had been predicted.  Naturally, I sat on the porch with a book to enjoy it.  (More correctly, I was already enjoying a book on the porch when the storm passed over.)

At one point, I saw lightning flash ahead of me, so I started counting how far away it was.  I got to five seconds when I heard a rumble begin behind me.  "That's interesting," I thought, "how the lightning was in front and the thunder..."  BANG!  That's the only way I can describe the loudest crackle I've ever heard.  And then a car alarm went off.  I wonder how far from the lightning the car was, that I was close enough to hear the alarm set off by the thunder.  I wonder if it's a survival mechanism that all of my internal organs seemed to shrink away from my rib cage.

Then I marvelled at how long the thunder lasted.  There was five seconds between seeing lightning and hearing the start of the thunder.  There was twenty seconds I heard thunder -- four times as long.  (I counted a later one, since the loud one had distracted me by nearly scaring the snot out of me.)

For those of you who recognize the reference in the post's title, I pity (or honor) you for being approximately my age or older.  For those of you who don't, my memory strays back to this TV show.  Now before you look down on me for enjoying (let alone remembering) that show, please keep in mind that I was a child when it aired.  (And it's far better than Barney or much of the other tripe that networks consider "family viewing" nowadays.)

Do you like how I worked in the word "stray"?  :)  Wait.  Did I just use the word marvel and talk about lightning without referring to Captain Marvel?  Shazam!  How could a fanboy like me miss that opportunity?  Be right back; I must go flog myself with a wet noodle.

Taxing my Patience

I received a service renewal notice in the mail.  In the body of the letter, it said the charge is "x" dollars, with a footnote that says "plus tax".  In the tear-off portion that gets returned with my check, the charge is "x" dollars, with a footnote that says "tax included".  I had to call the company today to find out which was correct.  (It's the one with tax included.)