Monday, July 30, 2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
....so, as I was saying,..'05 was starting badly!
As the months went on from spring break into the early summer we were scaring the shit out of the tourists, our life's blood of money flow. The God hit us with the coup d'grace! Most of the "bad" storms were occuring in the late August, September, early October periods, and most of the tourists were home snuggled up with thier weathe channels all on watching and gleefully jumping up and down litttle kids saying "We were there last year, weren't we Daddy"
Anyhow along came Hurricane Dennis, right in July, the peak of the tourst season. Full scale evacuations in effect, tourists oblivious to them, then they figured it out! "Holy Shit Martha, get the kids in the car we gotta get gasoline before they all run out down here and then head back home quick."
What is it with humans. They all get the same collective idea simoultaneously! So one by one over a five hour period every single gasoline station in town goes dry, lines are backed up a mile from the station just to get in, folks are bumper to bumper trying to get off the Island (you got your 331 bridge, your Mid-Bay bridge, your Carrilon Beach Bridge, or your Brooks Bridge. That's all there is folks take your pick. Well they took 'em all and jammed everything up to beat the band. You got the idiots who decided to stay, but the Innkeepers who told them "No Way Jose,...you're outta here, NOW!!!"
Suffice it to say a mandatory evacution in the height of tourist season has to be done earlier than usual, by about two days from landfall of the hurricane, to be sure we get them all out. Us locals? Those who were leaving ain't no dummies, they left the day before the tourists! The rest of us just "rode it out"...again.
Well then came Katrina which really screwed up the works. Now don't get me wrong, but it brought a really nasty crownd to our area in place of the usual crowd. I learned more ways to be scammed and chiseled from those folks than all my years growing up in the city!
Anyway we got through it,...somehow!
'06 was nothing, not even a whimper, so we chilled out, said a few extra "Thank You Lord''s" than usual and relaxed.
But somebody replaced "relaxed" with "complacent" so for the past winter and into this summer all we've heard about is the "Be prepared, Be ready, know your evacuation route, put your valuables together in one place for easy removal, stock up and get yourself a generator, and on, and on, and on to ad nauseum!
Now we are all fidgity about things. The real Estate market is still depressed as hell, hurricane insurance ratees have gone up 300%, (what cost me $800 a year four years ago is now costing me $5,400!, and if I don't have it it's a default on the mortgage!) So needless to say we are all nervous as hell.
Either hit me with a real nasty ass storm so I can collect my insurance and move to Utah, or stop with the big pep rally that's wearing our nerves to a frazzle!
But then again the sunny days in the September to December period are all worth it,...sigh!
Well, a few more '05 pictures and I'm off to relax.
here comes '05!!
So we all breathed collective sighs and thought the same thing, "Well that's about it for the next ten or twelve years!" WRONG!!
'05 started early with even more tropical storms eating the last bits of beach off the land, and undermining a bunch of things, i.e. buildings sea walls, dune walkovers (stairways up and over the dunes)destroying the fragile eco-system of the dunes and setting us up for the second hit. And here they come,...again. On the pix above that first step from the parking lot into your seaside condo can be a real bitch!
And that pile of trash, used to be a Gulf front vacation home,....poof,....now you see it, now you don't (Pictures by the God Re-development Company, "Is your insurance paid up?"
Onward with new technology under my belt!
So anyway, that's how '04 came and went, the "one a day" multiple hurricane days. I think we had about 18 or 19 "tropical events, i.e. storms, hurricanes (catagory 1, 2, 3, or "the kiss your ass goodbye numbers 4 and 5) and with great sighs of relief, knowing every human being broadcasting any time of the day or night on the weather channel, more about Jim Cantore (weather channel hurricane follower who goes "on the scene" and we all watch as he blows to and fro with bushes anf limbs of trees soaring by him in his sheik "Weather Channel" storm parka with his poor camera guy occasionally wiping a rag across the lens of the camera to keep it clear. Now a few more pix's from the '04 period.
Note all the erosion,...what beach, it used to be there!!
Back again, can you see me now?
Hello again. Let's try some pix's
And then there was this little "restroom station" at the parking lot. (Ok so imagine there used to be a parking lot around it.
Let me see how this looks, and I'll be back for "the rest of the story"
-30-
I ain't working this weekend!!
I'm feeling the crunch today. The crazy idiot tourists, the hot and VERY humid weather, the "burrs" under everyone's saddles, and believe it or not the lack of hurricanes. Does that sound stupid or what!
How the hell can the "lack of hurricanes" bother someone? It's easy. When I first moved to Florida full time in late '97, I knew Hurricanes prowled the area. I'd been few a couple in New England back in the 50's, and a few more over the years in different places. But Florida is the "bullseye" for mother nature with respect to hurricanes. But I wasn't really phased by them,...then.
The year after we got here was our first real "hurricane", a little one called Georges (phonetically "Jorrgis") I remeber the forcast that it would make landfall on Saturday night into Sunday morning, it was a "catagory 2" I believe. But how could that be? My wife and I did a little shopping Friday, got batteries, bottled water, we hung out, as the whole town was "closed". Shops were boarded up businesses all closed down, all loose things put away, lawn furniture in the livingroom, all the usual precautions. By noon time Saturday we were bored to tears. The weatherchannel was babbling on, the sky was clear and it was sunny, sunny, sunny. "Come on honey, let's go for a ride", says me. So we jumped in the convertible, put the top down and set out to see what we could see.
Yup it was just like they said, all the businesses were closed and boarded up, all the loose stuff stowed, and the streets were empty. (I could actually get up to the speed limit on the usually bumper to bumper hi-way!) We poked around the Harbor area and found one lowly restaurant open, so in we go. They had a big open deck overlooking the harbor itself so we had lunch on the deck, a couple of beers, helped some tourists and took pictures of them all smiling and looking all goofy tourist family on vacation. They offered to take a snapshot of us with my wife's camera so we let them and gave them our best non-plussed "local" expressions. We cruised a bit more, found abagel shop open so we decided to get some as bagels are the "twinkies" of breads for staying power. The girl gave us about fourteen and said, "guess we ain't havin' much of a crowd today so here's a couple extra so I can get rid of 'em all and go home too." Then we went back to the house, watched the tube (TV), and turned in early. Still no sign of anything just a "cloudier sky at sunset" than usual.
Next morning, being Sunday, we figured we'd get up, go to church, come home, have a liesurely breakfast, and curl up with a good book. (Also another Hurricane necessity since electricity, we were told, usually is out for a few days.) It looked really ominous with dark swilling nasty clouds literally "roaring" by. The winds had picked up significantly and the palms and anything else around was waving vigorously. We decided to skip church and stay hunkered down. By ten or so it started raining, by 10:30 it was pouring sideways. (Seriously the rain was coming down,oops, I really mean across in sheets. The place across the street, maybe twenty or thirty feet away was a blurred blob, barely definable. And so it was for hours and hours. The electricity hadn't gone out yet so I snapped a picture of the weatherchannel with thier map showing the "Eye" just about over us. Then it just died off to nothing but a very cloudy day, no winds, no rain. That was the "eye" directly over us. Then as fat as it died off it came back and we were back on the rollercoaster for hours more, window screens sailed by, garbage can lids, anything not nailed down,...but the electricity never went off. By seven or eight that night we were ready for bed,..and made no plans for tomorrow.
Next morning we got us, the sun rose into a virtually clear sky, and it was almost surealistic in that the fury and power of yesterday was gone,..poof,...vanished. And we were back to bing just an empty "ghost town". So we went out, checked and found no damage to speak of, and just hung out for the day again, and back to normal the day after. And that was our first Hurricane in Florida.
The next few years were just "normal", a couple of tropical storms, a few tropical "depressions", but overall nothing to write home to Mom about. And so it went until 2004. What I call the "one a day multiple brand hurricane days". It started not too very bad, then the storms started coming like an Uzi submachine gun as oppsed to rifle shots with time between. The worst on that year was "Ivan" , he kicked the shit out of a bunch of folks and property. the "little" Tropical storms in between the hurricanes concentrated on tearing up our beaches something fierce. (If I can figure it out again I'll pop in some pix's I took in '04, and '05 of the aftermath)
Going to end this part of the blog and see if the pix's published in the "easy style" of blogspot. Back in a few.
-30-
How the hell can the "lack of hurricanes" bother someone? It's easy. When I first moved to Florida full time in late '97, I knew Hurricanes prowled the area. I'd been few a couple in New England back in the 50's, and a few more over the years in different places. But Florida is the "bullseye" for mother nature with respect to hurricanes. But I wasn't really phased by them,...then.
The year after we got here was our first real "hurricane", a little one called Georges (phonetically "Jorrgis") I remeber the forcast that it would make landfall on Saturday night into Sunday morning, it was a "catagory 2" I believe. But how could that be? My wife and I did a little shopping Friday, got batteries, bottled water, we hung out, as the whole town was "closed". Shops were boarded up businesses all closed down, all loose things put away, lawn furniture in the livingroom, all the usual precautions. By noon time Saturday we were bored to tears. The weatherchannel was babbling on, the sky was clear and it was sunny, sunny, sunny. "Come on honey, let's go for a ride", says me. So we jumped in the convertible, put the top down and set out to see what we could see.
Yup it was just like they said, all the businesses were closed and boarded up, all the loose stuff stowed, and the streets were empty. (I could actually get up to the speed limit on the usually bumper to bumper hi-way!) We poked around the Harbor area and found one lowly restaurant open, so in we go. They had a big open deck overlooking the harbor itself so we had lunch on the deck, a couple of beers, helped some tourists and took pictures of them all smiling and looking all goofy tourist family on vacation. They offered to take a snapshot of us with my wife's camera so we let them and gave them our best non-plussed "local" expressions. We cruised a bit more, found abagel shop open so we decided to get some as bagels are the "twinkies" of breads for staying power. The girl gave us about fourteen and said, "guess we ain't havin' much of a crowd today so here's a couple extra so I can get rid of 'em all and go home too." Then we went back to the house, watched the tube (TV), and turned in early. Still no sign of anything just a "cloudier sky at sunset" than usual.
Next morning, being Sunday, we figured we'd get up, go to church, come home, have a liesurely breakfast, and curl up with a good book. (Also another Hurricane necessity since electricity, we were told, usually is out for a few days.) It looked really ominous with dark swilling nasty clouds literally "roaring" by. The winds had picked up significantly and the palms and anything else around was waving vigorously. We decided to skip church and stay hunkered down. By ten or so it started raining, by 10:30 it was pouring sideways. (Seriously the rain was coming down,oops, I really mean across in sheets. The place across the street, maybe twenty or thirty feet away was a blurred blob, barely definable. And so it was for hours and hours. The electricity hadn't gone out yet so I snapped a picture of the weatherchannel with thier map showing the "Eye" just about over us. Then it just died off to nothing but a very cloudy day, no winds, no rain. That was the "eye" directly over us. Then as fat as it died off it came back and we were back on the rollercoaster for hours more, window screens sailed by, garbage can lids, anything not nailed down,...but the electricity never went off. By seven or eight that night we were ready for bed,..and made no plans for tomorrow.
Next morning we got us, the sun rose into a virtually clear sky, and it was almost surealistic in that the fury and power of yesterday was gone,..poof,...vanished. And we were back to bing just an empty "ghost town". So we went out, checked and found no damage to speak of, and just hung out for the day again, and back to normal the day after. And that was our first Hurricane in Florida.
The next few years were just "normal", a couple of tropical storms, a few tropical "depressions", but overall nothing to write home to Mom about. And so it went until 2004. What I call the "one a day multiple brand hurricane days". It started not too very bad, then the storms started coming like an Uzi submachine gun as oppsed to rifle shots with time between. The worst on that year was "Ivan" , he kicked the shit out of a bunch of folks and property. the "little" Tropical storms in between the hurricanes concentrated on tearing up our beaches something fierce. (If I can figure it out again I'll pop in some pix's I took in '04, and '05 of the aftermath)
Going to end this part of the blog and see if the pix's published in the "easy style" of blogspot. Back in a few.
-30-
Sunday, July 22, 2007
To Bike, or not to Bike,...that is the question!
Ok maybe it's time for the wife to "put me away", off to the rest home, "losing it", or for my English mates "bloody daft", but in the wife's loving venacular, "You're fuckin' crazier than I thought!" Why all these thoughts about a nice old sot like me who loves Guinness, wouldn't hurt a fly (ok,..so I lied,...I'd beat the shit out of a fly, they are annoying!), and all the other nice things ever said about me?
Because I had a "brain fart" this morning. It all started as I rode along the beach road. There is a six foot wide bicycle/walking/jogging path for about eight miles of it. The walkers and joggers co-exist peacefully enough, but the bikers(not the Harley type, but the Fujiama/Cannondale crowd, they insist on riding on the regular road.
While I will be the first to stand up and ask for forgiviness, to repent from my wicked ways, etc.,etc. I really didn't mean to think about sort of "holding the line" and if thier bicycle should come in contact with my car fender,....well, they have helmets on, and besides aren't those "tour d'France" shirts they wear just absolutely the most disgusting fashion statements you''ve ever seen! (Sorry,..The devil made me say that!)
Anyhow, I deviate. I've been arguing with the little guy, you know the voice in your head that keeps saying shit like, "Don't eat that , it's not healthy" and "Put your tongue back in your mouth and stop drooling, she's old enough to be your granddaughter!" or the issue we're going "round and round about" now.
"So you selfish shit, you 're not doing any exercise, you work, eat, drink a few pints, sleep and complain about it, and you know what that means? Huh? You are going to leave me, die, kick the bucket,croak, etc. and you're wife,...well she'll get some new thirty something "stud muffin, boy toy", and he'll get your recliner, throw out your Pub music collection, and all your computers, and why? Because you are too damn stupid to get into some kind of exercise program?"
I must say the little guy is persuasive. So I've been thinking,...what could I do for exercise that I could "tolerate" you see I HATE exercise. If I had ten bucks for every gym, spa, etc. I've joined and went three times only to be "the fat guy" by the third visit amongst the "body beautiful" crowd who are working like crazy to drop a pound! They are consumed by it, they live for it, they think they are "fat"! Excuse me but I'M the poster boy for the "Outlaw Twinkies" posters!
Anyhow my perverted logic has been carrying the argument with the little guy and they started to gang up on my "soft side". "Look dummy, if you got a bike and the "gym crowd" was around you could ride away from them. And with the goofy helmet, a dumb ass shirt, sunglasses, and a hundred and something odd gear bicycle you could fly away. Don't you remember how much fun riding your bike was as a kid?"
"Frankly no, my mother wouldn't let me get a bike until I was fifteen because someone she knew had a kid run over by a truck when she was five riding a bike."
"Alright, but consider if you don't do something we will probably not be having too many long term conversations. And remember that article I made you see on Google about not being skinny isn't necessarily bad if you are a bicyclist,....remember?"
"Ok,... I'll look into it, satisfied? And I guess you have to come along since you're like in my head already,....but you say one word, you even do an oooh or an aaaah, and we're out of there I'm telling you."
"Sure, sure, you got it, not a peep out of me, promise. But we are going looking right?"
"Yeah, we're going to look at bikes."
"Goood,...let's go I'm all set!"
"It's Sunday stupid, bike shops aren't open on Sunday."
"Wrong, Bicycle Bob's out in Blue Mountain Beach is open today."
"Are you sure? Couldn't we just wait until tomorrow?"
"BULLSHIT! Tomorrow you go back into workaholic mode and God forbid you think of skipping a pint at the Pub after work, and Lord knows dinner is at 6:30p.m. and then between the Law & Order re-runs, and NCIS, ...shit next thing you know it's next weekend. Stop being a procrastnator, get off you lazy ass and let's go!!!"
"But I'm writing a 'blog' entry."
"Look, don't whine and weasel like that, get your ass up and I'll finish the blog, tell the wife you're going to look at some bike and thinkking about an "exercise" program,...you got three minutes I'll be done with the blog by then,...OK?"
"Well get going,...NOW!"
He's downstairs now and I got him. Odd's are he'll get intersted and I'll push him over the edge. Got to run,...I'll let you know how "the little guy" handled him, after all you can never win out over the little voices in your head. The nuns used to call them you conscience,...adios!
-30-
Because I had a "brain fart" this morning. It all started as I rode along the beach road. There is a six foot wide bicycle/walking/jogging path for about eight miles of it. The walkers and joggers co-exist peacefully enough, but the bikers(not the Harley type, but the Fujiama/Cannondale crowd, they insist on riding on the regular road.
While I will be the first to stand up and ask for forgiviness, to repent from my wicked ways, etc.,etc. I really didn't mean to think about sort of "holding the line" and if thier bicycle should come in contact with my car fender,....well, they have helmets on, and besides aren't those "tour d'France" shirts they wear just absolutely the most disgusting fashion statements you''ve ever seen! (Sorry,..The devil made me say that!)
Anyhow, I deviate. I've been arguing with the little guy, you know the voice in your head that keeps saying shit like, "Don't eat that , it's not healthy" and "Put your tongue back in your mouth and stop drooling, she's old enough to be your granddaughter!" or the issue we're going "round and round about" now.
"So you selfish shit, you 're not doing any exercise, you work, eat, drink a few pints, sleep and complain about it, and you know what that means? Huh? You are going to leave me, die, kick the bucket,croak, etc. and you're wife,...well she'll get some new thirty something "stud muffin, boy toy", and he'll get your recliner, throw out your Pub music collection, and all your computers, and why? Because you are too damn stupid to get into some kind of exercise program?"
I must say the little guy is persuasive. So I've been thinking,...what could I do for exercise that I could "tolerate" you see I HATE exercise. If I had ten bucks for every gym, spa, etc. I've joined and went three times only to be "the fat guy" by the third visit amongst the "body beautiful" crowd who are working like crazy to drop a pound! They are consumed by it, they live for it, they think they are "fat"! Excuse me but I'M the poster boy for the "Outlaw Twinkies" posters!
Anyhow my perverted logic has been carrying the argument with the little guy and they started to gang up on my "soft side". "Look dummy, if you got a bike and the "gym crowd" was around you could ride away from them. And with the goofy helmet, a dumb ass shirt, sunglasses, and a hundred and something odd gear bicycle you could fly away. Don't you remember how much fun riding your bike was as a kid?"
"Frankly no, my mother wouldn't let me get a bike until I was fifteen because someone she knew had a kid run over by a truck when she was five riding a bike."
"Alright, but consider if you don't do something we will probably not be having too many long term conversations. And remember that article I made you see on Google about not being skinny isn't necessarily bad if you are a bicyclist,....remember?"
"Ok,... I'll look into it, satisfied? And I guess you have to come along since you're like in my head already,....but you say one word, you even do an oooh or an aaaah, and we're out of there I'm telling you."
"Sure, sure, you got it, not a peep out of me, promise. But we are going looking right?"
"Yeah, we're going to look at bikes."
"Goood,...let's go I'm all set!"
"It's Sunday stupid, bike shops aren't open on Sunday."
"Wrong, Bicycle Bob's out in Blue Mountain Beach is open today."
"Are you sure? Couldn't we just wait until tomorrow?"
"BULLSHIT! Tomorrow you go back into workaholic mode and God forbid you think of skipping a pint at the Pub after work, and Lord knows dinner is at 6:30p.m. and then between the Law & Order re-runs, and NCIS, ...shit next thing you know it's next weekend. Stop being a procrastnator, get off you lazy ass and let's go!!!"
"But I'm writing a 'blog' entry."
"Look, don't whine and weasel like that, get your ass up and I'll finish the blog, tell the wife you're going to look at some bike and thinkking about an "exercise" program,...you got three minutes I'll be done with the blog by then,...OK?"
"Well get going,...NOW!"
He's downstairs now and I got him. Odd's are he'll get intersted and I'll push him over the edge. Got to run,...I'll let you know how "the little guy" handled him, after all you can never win out over the little voices in your head. The nuns used to call them you conscience,...adios!
-30-
Friday, July 20, 2007
It's almost over !!!! YEAH!
As most of you probably know my business, managing condominium and homeowners associations, is at it's peak of insanity from springbreak (oh those cute little co-ed's with bathing suits with less material than one of my socks!), then comes the 2.4 child summer vacation families (where are the sleeping pills when you really need them!), and then the "Dinks" ("Double Income,No Kids"). Then in another two or three weeks the little rug rats all go back to school, the boss reminds all you slackers out there that summer is over and it's time to get back to work for the company, AND the realization hits that you have no more vacation time this year, Christmas is on the way, and there are weeks of shopping ahead!
And here in our little patch of paradise we all breath easier. Once again we've extracted all your "disposable cash", unloaded all of our cheap tee shirts on you, fed you all to the tune of about $4,000,000 in sales for my favorite Pub again this year, and are ready to begin repairing and replacing all that you've ruined, broken, trashed, or otherwise "heavily used" on your vacation.
Cinderella is dead (Long live the evil step father,...me!) "Yes m'am, I understand you loved that watch, and I understand you didn't mean to drop it down the crack between the elevator and the eighteenth floor you are on at two am, which by the way is the time my bedside clock says it is,..(sigh),..but I am not going to call a maintenance man, wake him up from a good night's sleep, as you did to me, to go and retrieve your watch tonight. this does not constitute an EMERGENCY, which is what this line is for! Sit there all night, oops, excuse me the rest of the early morning, and the maintenance folks will be in about 7 o'clock,..have a nice night!" CLICK
Or maybe the (Oh shit it's 12 midnight!) ring,...ring "Uh hello emergency line, can I help you?"
"Yes, I'm sitting here in the car at Regatta way with five kids and I can't find my resort, can you give me directions?"
"You want I should just pick a resort and give you directions, or was there one you had made reservations for and are at least seven hours late for "check-in"?"
"OH<>>>it"s the seascape resort<>>>does that help?"
"yes m"am< ..., NOW what's around you?"
"Well I'm in the parking lot of a clock shop,.."
"Excellant we only have one of them in town, I know exactly where you are. So just ease out of the lot and turn right m'am, onto the highway.
"Are you sure it's right?"
"M'am, you are on a divided highway. If you turn left you WILL meet an ugly old Semi bearing down on you at 65 miles per hour, and you will just be a blot on the hiway! Am I clear? Turn right,...please."
"Well I'm not really sure but,..."
"M'am, allow me a stupid question here. Did I call you and offer directions to confuse the shit out of you and your five rug rats at midnight,...or was it you that called me becasue you had no idea where you were?"
"Well, I guess I called you,....but."
"M'am,...there are no "buts" allowed, if you don't let me give you the directions, and follow them quietly, and without attempting or second guessing me,..well let me say this,...when the sun comes up and you look around you, there will not be a 'clock shop', or white sand beaches and azure water gently lapping on them. What you will see is the deep, dark, dank middle of the biggest, most mequito infested, alligators galore swamp that in you're wildest dreams you could not even imagine! Think Burt Reynolds,...Deliverance,...then imagine worse! Are we clear?"
"ok,..(resigned sigh)"
"Good now go up the road to the first traffic light and then continue through it another mile and a half. You will see a HUGE sign that says "Welcome to Seascape, Enter here." Turn and enter,...you are there.
"Are you sure?"
"Or not,....so what you gotta ask yourself is,....do you feel lucky? Goodnight m'am." CLICK
And the there is "operator 10" with the fire alarm monitoring company at 1:45 am ("on a school night" I love that term Lucy :) )every night this week he's called to tell me the alarm panel is having a "temporary communications failure". Now with 235 units and an eighteen story hi-rise and the heightof the tourist season, well that is one that could demand my attention. So I drag my sorry ass out of my warm bed,stagger out to the dining room table where the MOD "Manager On Duty" book lays open (5" looseleaf binder with more outof date information than last months Sunday paper!) I fumble for my glasses, put the finger in the middle of the lense and put them on and start flipping through looking for the Austere Arms Hi-rise data sheet. After thirty or forty pages looking through a greasy fingerprint lense I find it. "Hmmm!" Where the hell is the number of the fire alarm equipment company! Got it,...dialing, waiting,...waiting,...waiting,..."Uh yeah,...All night fire alarm Company, what?"
"Yes sir I got a call from the monitoring company about a Temporary communications failure at Austere Arms in Destin."
"Yeah,...I saw it too, about twenty minutes ago."
" Well I thought I'd call incase the system is down or there really is a fire or something."
"Oh, yeah. Well it automatically reset three minutes later and everythings fine,...bye"
Not once, not twice, not three times, but FOUR times this week within three minutes of 1:45 A.M. this has happened! Operator 18 and I have become "buddies" He calls, we chat a bit he pauses after about five minutes and then says, "Looks like it reset, sorry to bother you,...get some sleep. Goodnight."
And so goes life ion the tourist lane. I could write on forever, trust me, these are but a "sound byte" of property management during the summer.
The good news is I get to dump the MOD phone, bag, book and all that shit off on another manager in 1 hour and I'm off the hook until September.
"Thank you for calling and remember, call me after 10 at night with your problems and I'll hunt you down like a dog and you'll wish it was "deliverance",....trust me on that.
-30-
And here in our little patch of paradise we all breath easier. Once again we've extracted all your "disposable cash", unloaded all of our cheap tee shirts on you, fed you all to the tune of about $4,000,000 in sales for my favorite Pub again this year, and are ready to begin repairing and replacing all that you've ruined, broken, trashed, or otherwise "heavily used" on your vacation.
Cinderella is dead (Long live the evil step father,...me!) "Yes m'am, I understand you loved that watch, and I understand you didn't mean to drop it down the crack between the elevator and the eighteenth floor you are on at two am, which by the way is the time my bedside clock says it is,..(sigh),..but I am not going to call a maintenance man, wake him up from a good night's sleep, as you did to me, to go and retrieve your watch tonight. this does not constitute an EMERGENCY, which is what this line is for! Sit there all night, oops, excuse me the rest of the early morning, and the maintenance folks will be in about 7 o'clock,..have a nice night!" CLICK
Or maybe the (Oh shit it's 12 midnight!) ring,...ring "Uh hello emergency line, can I help you?"
"Yes, I'm sitting here in the car at Regatta way with five kids and I can't find my resort, can you give me directions?"
"You want I should just pick a resort and give you directions, or was there one you had made reservations for and are at least seven hours late for "check-in"?"
"OH<>>>it"s the seascape resort<>>>does that help?"
"yes m"am< ..., NOW what's around you?"
"Well I'm in the parking lot of a clock shop,.."
"Excellant we only have one of them in town, I know exactly where you are. So just ease out of the lot and turn right m'am, onto the highway.
"Are you sure it's right?"
"M'am, you are on a divided highway. If you turn left you WILL meet an ugly old Semi bearing down on you at 65 miles per hour, and you will just be a blot on the hiway! Am I clear? Turn right,...please."
"Well I'm not really sure but,..."
"M'am, allow me a stupid question here. Did I call you and offer directions to confuse the shit out of you and your five rug rats at midnight,...or was it you that called me becasue you had no idea where you were?"
"Well, I guess I called you,....but."
"M'am,...there are no "buts" allowed, if you don't let me give you the directions, and follow them quietly, and without attempting or second guessing me,..well let me say this,...when the sun comes up and you look around you, there will not be a 'clock shop', or white sand beaches and azure water gently lapping on them. What you will see is the deep, dark, dank middle of the biggest, most mequito infested, alligators galore swamp that in you're wildest dreams you could not even imagine! Think Burt Reynolds,...Deliverance,...then imagine worse! Are we clear?"
"ok,..(resigned sigh)"
"Good now go up the road to the first traffic light and then continue through it another mile and a half. You will see a HUGE sign that says "Welcome to Seascape, Enter here." Turn and enter,...you are there.
"Are you sure?"
"Or not,....so what you gotta ask yourself is,....do you feel lucky? Goodnight m'am." CLICK
And the there is "operator 10" with the fire alarm monitoring company at 1:45 am ("on a school night" I love that term Lucy :) )every night this week he's called to tell me the alarm panel is having a "temporary communications failure". Now with 235 units and an eighteen story hi-rise and the heightof the tourist season, well that is one that could demand my attention. So I drag my sorry ass out of my warm bed,stagger out to the dining room table where the MOD "Manager On Duty" book lays open (5" looseleaf binder with more outof date information than last months Sunday paper!) I fumble for my glasses, put the finger in the middle of the lense and put them on and start flipping through looking for the Austere Arms Hi-rise data sheet. After thirty or forty pages looking through a greasy fingerprint lense I find it. "Hmmm!" Where the hell is the number of the fire alarm equipment company! Got it,...dialing, waiting,...waiting,...waiting,..."Uh yeah,...All night fire alarm Company, what?"
"Yes sir I got a call from the monitoring company about a Temporary communications failure at Austere Arms in Destin."
"Yeah,...I saw it too, about twenty minutes ago."
" Well I thought I'd call incase the system is down or there really is a fire or something."
"Oh, yeah. Well it automatically reset three minutes later and everythings fine,...bye"
Not once, not twice, not three times, but FOUR times this week within three minutes of 1:45 A.M. this has happened! Operator 18 and I have become "buddies" He calls, we chat a bit he pauses after about five minutes and then says, "Looks like it reset, sorry to bother you,...get some sleep. Goodnight."
And so goes life ion the tourist lane. I could write on forever, trust me, these are but a "sound byte" of property management during the summer.
The good news is I get to dump the MOD phone, bag, book and all that shit off on another manager in 1 hour and I'm off the hook until September.
"Thank you for calling and remember, call me after 10 at night with your problems and I'll hunt you down like a dog and you'll wish it was "deliverance",....trust me on that.
-30-
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Now I'm pissed!!!
Ooops!!! seem's like I've used that title before, (sigh) early Alzheimer's I guess,....anyway;
IF you were fortunate enough to be born in Boston, Massachusetts, and IF you are fortunate enough to have been to the Esplanade (HUGE open air grass area with MASSSIVE open Amphitheater, on the 4th of July, then YOU knowwhat I'm saying! From the Maestro himself, Arthur Fiedler for over 40 years, (Shit I was about ten so he must be even older!) There was the 4th of July Concert. Hundred,...no make that THOUSANDS of people waiting all day oon the grass, thier children, thier children's children, shit,...generations of us, all waiting for the Maestro to take the podium of the Boston Pops. An idea concieved in the forties I believe, that music belongs to all ages, and the education into music and it's CELEBRATION are sacred.
With White jackets, in the sweltering heat, the maestro raised his baton,...and it began.
As a young child I don't remember each years whole program, but it ranged from the classical renderings you would expect from a "pick up group" of 60 or so musicians, of the very formal Boston Symphony Orchestra, who were dedicated to bringing a FREE concert to "the people of Boston".
The beginning, the middle, well,...suffice it to say they were there, because I was a kid most of the years I went,...BUT the "END" ,....WOW, WOW, WOW!!!!!!
It began every year with a very quiet few notes, "da,da, da da, da, da, da dadada!," and a complete hush (and I mean an absolutely mind boggling quiet) would fall over the crowd. The volume would pick up a bit,...newbies would applaud, regular Bostonians would look at them in an "annoyed" way,...silently. The music rose, it fell, it laid out a musical story,....Peter Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture!!
Your heart and head knew every note,...your eyes teared up with the understanding of the emotions brought to life through your ears of the battle, the bloody raveges of war, the deaths, the passion, the dedication,...all building to perhaps the greatest classical "orgasm" in man's history.
The struggle of good versus evil, light versus darkness, love versus hate,...every emotion you have ever felt,...all in a single few moments of musical notes on a piece of paper, and interpreted by the Maestro to his 80 plus musicians. The cresendo builds, the passions reach new heights, babies are awes struck, old folks just smile beatifically with thier eyes shut, teens just stare and wonder "How did this get to me?", adults just revel in everything,....and we all know what's coming,...we all just draw in breath and in that one instant hold it,...because we are anticipating.
"BOOM", and another, "BOOM" and yet another, "BOOM". It's the cannons, or more aptly the howitzers of the famous "Yankee Division" from a dozen different areas around the Esplanade as it parallels the world famous Charles River, the silouettes of Harvard University, Boston University, the entire skyline of Boston, all begin to come alive! Really alive.
The cannons boom out , perfectly timed with Tchaikovsky's music, and all of a sudden light erupt, fire works sailing skyward, exploding in dozens of colors, hundreds of shapes, one after the other,...and it continues, in what seems like an hour of absolutely magical blending! The "Pop's" are now simply an adrenilen extension of everything around them. There is nary a note that is not absolute perfection, you know that wherever Peter Tchaikovsky lies in repose he is smiling, he is laughing, and he is sublimely happy forevermore, for the emotion, the passion, and the very soul of his being wrapped in this musical work, is being magnificently, and flawlessly set forth for us,...the people!
The cannons continue, the fireworks trying to shout over them, The "Pops" orchestra above them all,...a cacophony of pleasure and majesty for the ear and mind,
the bells begin, a concerted coordinated execution of every single church bell in the great City of Boston, Massachusetts, they begin to ring, and ring,...and ring! The story of the War of 1812 is coming to it's conclusion. The strong resoult sound of the French Marsailles, trumped and redoubled by the English anthems. The ever building finale is at hand, the "stretch" is at hand, foreworks still blazing, cannons suddenly silent, and the Pops are the final narration of this history,...dah dah dah, ..dah, ..dah, dah, dah, dah,dah,......daaaaaaahhhhh!
If you are not melted, teary eyed, moved , or otherwise euphoric,....well you just arenot human, please leave the room.
The fourth of July on the Boston Espanade, parallel to the Charles River, Harvard and B.U on the left, the skyscrapers of Boston on the right, the clouds of smoke from the fireworks still drifting westward on the wind, and the total outbreak of applause, whislting, screaming and cheering,....it does'nt get any better.
It's what being a "Boston boy" is all about. It's the glue that makes the dreams and the struggles of my immigrant grandparents worth it to my memories of thier struggles for my parents and then me. It's the IV line connecting me to a place, a time, and the memories of a life time in the scant eight to ten minute of the Overture.
It's my roots, whether I'm in Florida, Mexico City, Bermuda, England, Ireland, Spain, Italy, or at sea! The fourth of July is the Bostin Pops, the espanade, the Yankee Division, and Peter Tchaikovsky,....thank you all.
I am proud to be an American, a Bostonian, and a part of a free world!!
Now ask the networks why they botched the shit out of this with "canned music", over the hill "rock stars", and a Scottish emcee.
Must it all be about the "ratings and the money", or is there still room left for simple artistic BRILLIANCE?
-30-
IF you were fortunate enough to be born in Boston, Massachusetts, and IF you are fortunate enough to have been to the Esplanade (HUGE open air grass area with MASSSIVE open Amphitheater, on the 4th of July, then YOU knowwhat I'm saying! From the Maestro himself, Arthur Fiedler for over 40 years, (Shit I was about ten so he must be even older!) There was the 4th of July Concert. Hundred,...no make that THOUSANDS of people waiting all day oon the grass, thier children, thier children's children, shit,...generations of us, all waiting for the Maestro to take the podium of the Boston Pops. An idea concieved in the forties I believe, that music belongs to all ages, and the education into music and it's CELEBRATION are sacred.
With White jackets, in the sweltering heat, the maestro raised his baton,...and it began.
As a young child I don't remember each years whole program, but it ranged from the classical renderings you would expect from a "pick up group" of 60 or so musicians, of the very formal Boston Symphony Orchestra, who were dedicated to bringing a FREE concert to "the people of Boston".
The beginning, the middle, well,...suffice it to say they were there, because I was a kid most of the years I went,...BUT the "END" ,....WOW, WOW, WOW!!!!!!
It began every year with a very quiet few notes, "da,da, da da, da, da, da dadada!," and a complete hush (and I mean an absolutely mind boggling quiet) would fall over the crowd. The volume would pick up a bit,...newbies would applaud, regular Bostonians would look at them in an "annoyed" way,...silently. The music rose, it fell, it laid out a musical story,....Peter Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture!!
Your heart and head knew every note,...your eyes teared up with the understanding of the emotions brought to life through your ears of the battle, the bloody raveges of war, the deaths, the passion, the dedication,...all building to perhaps the greatest classical "orgasm" in man's history.
The struggle of good versus evil, light versus darkness, love versus hate,...every emotion you have ever felt,...all in a single few moments of musical notes on a piece of paper, and interpreted by the Maestro to his 80 plus musicians. The cresendo builds, the passions reach new heights, babies are awes struck, old folks just smile beatifically with thier eyes shut, teens just stare and wonder "How did this get to me?", adults just revel in everything,....and we all know what's coming,...we all just draw in breath and in that one instant hold it,...because we are anticipating.
"BOOM", and another, "BOOM" and yet another, "BOOM". It's the cannons, or more aptly the howitzers of the famous "Yankee Division" from a dozen different areas around the Esplanade as it parallels the world famous Charles River, the silouettes of Harvard University, Boston University, the entire skyline of Boston, all begin to come alive! Really alive.
The cannons boom out , perfectly timed with Tchaikovsky's music, and all of a sudden light erupt, fire works sailing skyward, exploding in dozens of colors, hundreds of shapes, one after the other,...and it continues, in what seems like an hour of absolutely magical blending! The "Pop's" are now simply an adrenilen extension of everything around them. There is nary a note that is not absolute perfection, you know that wherever Peter Tchaikovsky lies in repose he is smiling, he is laughing, and he is sublimely happy forevermore, for the emotion, the passion, and the very soul of his being wrapped in this musical work, is being magnificently, and flawlessly set forth for us,...the people!
The cannons continue, the fireworks trying to shout over them, The "Pops" orchestra above them all,...a cacophony of pleasure and majesty for the ear and mind,
the bells begin, a concerted coordinated execution of every single church bell in the great City of Boston, Massachusetts, they begin to ring, and ring,...and ring! The story of the War of 1812 is coming to it's conclusion. The strong resoult sound of the French Marsailles, trumped and redoubled by the English anthems. The ever building finale is at hand, the "stretch" is at hand, foreworks still blazing, cannons suddenly silent, and the Pops are the final narration of this history,...dah dah dah, ..dah, ..dah, dah, dah, dah,dah,......daaaaaaahhhhh!
If you are not melted, teary eyed, moved , or otherwise euphoric,....well you just arenot human, please leave the room.
The fourth of July on the Boston Espanade, parallel to the Charles River, Harvard and B.U on the left, the skyscrapers of Boston on the right, the clouds of smoke from the fireworks still drifting westward on the wind, and the total outbreak of applause, whislting, screaming and cheering,....it does'nt get any better.
It's what being a "Boston boy" is all about. It's the glue that makes the dreams and the struggles of my immigrant grandparents worth it to my memories of thier struggles for my parents and then me. It's the IV line connecting me to a place, a time, and the memories of a life time in the scant eight to ten minute of the Overture.
It's my roots, whether I'm in Florida, Mexico City, Bermuda, England, Ireland, Spain, Italy, or at sea! The fourth of July is the Bostin Pops, the espanade, the Yankee Division, and Peter Tchaikovsky,....thank you all.
I am proud to be an American, a Bostonian, and a part of a free world!!
Now ask the networks why they botched the shit out of this with "canned music", over the hill "rock stars", and a Scottish emcee.
Must it all be about the "ratings and the money", or is there still room left for simple artistic BRILLIANCE?
-30-
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Feast or Famine!
I can't help it,...here is another blog within two hours!
I started thinking about stress at the end of my last blog (go read the irrational mumblings of "Yoda" in the previous blog) and began to wonder what the major stressors on your life REALLY are, and if, just perchance, we are all carrying the same, but different "loads" that create the very same stressors. I think YES we do, here's why;
We are all human beings, as imperfect as we are, we all have fundamental wants, desires, and needs. Sometimes being deprived of those cause big stress, and sometimes that stress seems almost too much to overcome. For example, food. As the Nun's used to remind us in grammar school constantly, "there are people starving all over the world". Do they feel "stressed", or "hungry"? I venture "hungry" and could give a shit about stress, but that hidden stress will consume them even while they hunger.
How about most of us? Sure we may not be "hungery", but what of the more "civilized", lack of money? Is that not hunger of a different nature, and even if we get more of it don't we tend to "need" even more of it to keep from stressing out? Shit yes!
(Down the "long ago" road) the mortgage payment on the first house we owned was a whopping "$128 a month",...shit, now I pay $1,778 a month! Boy am I glad I'm getting ahead,...but am I really, or just becoming more stressed by higher payments to try and "stay even" with where I "want to be"? Should I re-think where I really want to be? Or how I "want to be" within our world? Would that reduce stress?
Then there is the "double whammy" of working in environments that are ever changing and as an "employee", regardless of all other factors, for the most part you are simply "there" while you can be afforded, while you do not disrupt the income stream and life styles of those above you. If you do, even if they are behind thier own blunders in running a business, you will pay the price,...un-employed! This is the survival of the fittest epitomized. Add another layer of stress that you really can't control,...but you'll try. Everyone should own thier own business, or at the very least believe in thier own ability and worth to do anything and provide for themselves, and remember a "JOB" is an anacronym for JUST OVER BROKE.
How about family? Can they be stressful to you? You bet your butt! Sometimes it's petty, sometimes it's not. One of our strongest emotions is "Love". A loved one going through illness, any type or form of death in a family, they are all sad and large stressors. When it's hard to get your head around a simple word like "WHY?". Or a meddlesome relative, a sister or brother, aunt or uncle whom you love but they just annoy the shit out of you for whatever reason, they are "bubble-headed", or "too freakin' serious", or whatever.
Then there are "friends". A hurtful remark is a stressor, and a lot of the time the person does not even realize they are causing a friend stress. Obligations expected beyond where YOU want to be obligated, committments beyond where they really want to be "committed" It's all there. Some friends stay, some go, and some just never are, but simply acquaintances,... ships passing in the night.
We are our own stressors 24/7.
Maybe the concept of the "soul-mate" is the only way to minimize individual stress. For me it works. The wonderful world of men and women, or the struggle of men and women, all looking to get to the same place,...Nirvana, Heaven, "The Garden of Peace" whatever you choose to call it,...isn't that the ultimate pursuit? Some of my blog friends have found it, some are almost desperate to find it, some have opted to by-pass it because as the song says, "sometimes the pleasure ain't worth the pain", some have had it, lost it and life is consumed with regaining it, others found it, accidentally, lost it and are unsure if they dare want it again.
We are indeed all different, all in our own lives with stressors of every kind,unique to us, and dropped onto this "big blue marble" to make our way, offend not as many as we can, be kind to as many as we can, and lay back and watch the clouds go by above us because they do,...that's thier role here.
-30-
I started thinking about stress at the end of my last blog (go read the irrational mumblings of "Yoda" in the previous blog) and began to wonder what the major stressors on your life REALLY are, and if, just perchance, we are all carrying the same, but different "loads" that create the very same stressors. I think YES we do, here's why;
We are all human beings, as imperfect as we are, we all have fundamental wants, desires, and needs. Sometimes being deprived of those cause big stress, and sometimes that stress seems almost too much to overcome. For example, food. As the Nun's used to remind us in grammar school constantly, "there are people starving all over the world". Do they feel "stressed", or "hungry"? I venture "hungry" and could give a shit about stress, but that hidden stress will consume them even while they hunger.
How about most of us? Sure we may not be "hungery", but what of the more "civilized", lack of money? Is that not hunger of a different nature, and even if we get more of it don't we tend to "need" even more of it to keep from stressing out? Shit yes!
(Down the "long ago" road) the mortgage payment on the first house we owned was a whopping "$128 a month",...shit, now I pay $1,778 a month! Boy am I glad I'm getting ahead,...but am I really, or just becoming more stressed by higher payments to try and "stay even" with where I "want to be"? Should I re-think where I really want to be? Or how I "want to be" within our world? Would that reduce stress?
Then there is the "double whammy" of working in environments that are ever changing and as an "employee", regardless of all other factors, for the most part you are simply "there" while you can be afforded, while you do not disrupt the income stream and life styles of those above you. If you do, even if they are behind thier own blunders in running a business, you will pay the price,...un-employed! This is the survival of the fittest epitomized. Add another layer of stress that you really can't control,...but you'll try. Everyone should own thier own business, or at the very least believe in thier own ability and worth to do anything and provide for themselves, and remember a "JOB" is an anacronym for JUST OVER BROKE.
How about family? Can they be stressful to you? You bet your butt! Sometimes it's petty, sometimes it's not. One of our strongest emotions is "Love". A loved one going through illness, any type or form of death in a family, they are all sad and large stressors. When it's hard to get your head around a simple word like "WHY?". Or a meddlesome relative, a sister or brother, aunt or uncle whom you love but they just annoy the shit out of you for whatever reason, they are "bubble-headed", or "too freakin' serious", or whatever.
Then there are "friends". A hurtful remark is a stressor, and a lot of the time the person does not even realize they are causing a friend stress. Obligations expected beyond where YOU want to be obligated, committments beyond where they really want to be "committed" It's all there. Some friends stay, some go, and some just never are, but simply acquaintances,... ships passing in the night.
We are our own stressors 24/7.
Maybe the concept of the "soul-mate" is the only way to minimize individual stress. For me it works. The wonderful world of men and women, or the struggle of men and women, all looking to get to the same place,...Nirvana, Heaven, "The Garden of Peace" whatever you choose to call it,...isn't that the ultimate pursuit? Some of my blog friends have found it, some are almost desperate to find it, some have opted to by-pass it because as the song says, "sometimes the pleasure ain't worth the pain", some have had it, lost it and life is consumed with regaining it, others found it, accidentally, lost it and are unsure if they dare want it again.
We are indeed all different, all in our own lives with stressors of every kind,unique to us, and dropped onto this "big blue marble" to make our way, offend not as many as we can, be kind to as many as we can, and lay back and watch the clouds go by above us because they do,...that's thier role here.
-30-
Let's see, where are we going today??
First and foremost a Happy Birthday to The United States of America!!! It's the fourth of July and aside from the traditional fireworks and cookouts, and obnoxious "party animals" on the loose (also known as Tourists on vacation, worse than the 'Girls Gone Wild' series believe me!)
My wife sais to me the other night "So how about we just go to the movies on the fourth and see the new Robin Williams flick?"
Says me, "That sounds good, then we go get a bite to eat, kick back and relax and read a bit (my weekly trips to Barnes & Noble has developed this stack of books on the coffee table (wonder why they call it that?) that I'm going to have to go get a month in Hospital to even think about catching up on! (Another side note: I used to love to read and went through at least a novel or book a week, now even if I really want to read the book it's like time closes in on me! I'VE GOT TO CHANGE THAT! Reading was one of those things that kept me sane when I was going to work ten hours a day, going to college nights five nights a week, raising a family of three kids, and trying to "get ahead" in this rat race. Now no more college, no three kids to raise, enough(barely)money to stay a foot ahead of the wolves at the door, a new attitude to the rat race (Fuck it! Let the best rat win,...see you at the Pub.) Times change. Now my wife blows through books like they were nothing while I labor to find the time ("Stay out of the Pub and you'd have plenty of time!", says she) oh, well!
If life is a bowl of cherrys,...then why do so may of us get pits?
How does a crazy person get through the forest?...They take the Phsyco-path!
Bad jokes live on!! But on to today. The sun is shining, I'm drinking coffee, sitting in the pit, and really beginning to wonder if God has a Blackberry like us to keep on top of things and all.
I thought of expounding on the upcoming U.S. Presidential election, but then I realized I owe all my Australian friends and "blog-mates" a very sincere, and humble compliment. You guys hold the record for the highest percentage of citizens voting in any country in the world at your elections. The last number I saw was 96%!!! We are lucky is we get more than 45%,...that's just plain sad! I must say there seems to be much more awareness, and "ownership" of your country, and I'm envious. I really get depressed when I realize that more than holf my country men don't seem to give a shit!
OK, now I'm on a roll! Time to announce my platform to run for the President of the United States,...ready?
1. Once you hit 65, you are off the tax rolls. You made your contribution, good or bad, enjoy the rest of your life without the tax man up your butt!
2. We will be doing away with the Internal Revenue Service totally, immediately, in it's place will be an 18% sales tax on everysingle thing you buy, no exceptions, no exemptions. (And guess what? If you can afford 18% on top of the price of a new Corvette,...go for it! I might just step down a notch and get the little, but still sporty Miata. Sort of stay within my means so to speak)
3. All medical care will be at a flat rate of $50 a month per person, deducted from your paycheck and sent to a national fund to administer. No job, no paycheck, no medical care,...you don't care to work, you are on your own. You have a responsibility to the rest of us as wellas yourself. Oh one caveat, if you do get sick then no deduction for that month. The doctors should keep us all healthy, not just hang out and wait for us to get sick!!
4. Every citizen is entitled to a full one hour body massage every other week,....hmmmm I will guarantee the health of everyone goes up, and the sickness rates go down. (SOAP BOX PREACHY TIME: We are all stressed, and the vast majority of people I know haven't a clue how to get rid of stress other than drink(not water and such,..but DRINK!), try and "work it out" with hours of brutal exercise (Yuck! pleasingly plump is a good thing.), or just let it build til you"blow up" i.e. rage blowup, petty blow up (you're not wearing that again are you?), work blow up, "screw it I'll look at it again tomorrow, etc.
This is going around like a balloon you blow up and let go of and it just goes all over the place. But it gave me a great idea for a challenge blog. So here goes:
HOW DO YOU DEAL WITH STRESS? But more importantly, how do you know you are stressed? Any physical, or emotional, or "red flag behaviours you are aware of?
Drop me a response so everyone can see, I'm really interested. And if you say you never get stressed,....well you need the full body massage more than I do for sure, 'cuz I know I stress too much!
AND how do you relieve stress,...what works for you, meditation, working out, stuffing yourself with chocolate, a couple more than usual glasses of red, going to bed a lot earlier and sleeping a lot more,...what?
I'll write my own first response.
My wife sais to me the other night "So how about we just go to the movies on the fourth and see the new Robin Williams flick?"
Says me, "That sounds good, then we go get a bite to eat, kick back and relax and read a bit (my weekly trips to Barnes & Noble has developed this stack of books on the coffee table (wonder why they call it that?) that I'm going to have to go get a month in Hospital to even think about catching up on! (Another side note: I used to love to read and went through at least a novel or book a week, now even if I really want to read the book it's like time closes in on me! I'VE GOT TO CHANGE THAT! Reading was one of those things that kept me sane when I was going to work ten hours a day, going to college nights five nights a week, raising a family of three kids, and trying to "get ahead" in this rat race. Now no more college, no three kids to raise, enough(barely)money to stay a foot ahead of the wolves at the door, a new attitude to the rat race (Fuck it! Let the best rat win,...see you at the Pub.) Times change. Now my wife blows through books like they were nothing while I labor to find the time ("Stay out of the Pub and you'd have plenty of time!", says she) oh, well!
If life is a bowl of cherrys,...then why do so may of us get pits?
How does a crazy person get through the forest?...They take the Phsyco-path!
Bad jokes live on!! But on to today. The sun is shining, I'm drinking coffee, sitting in the pit, and really beginning to wonder if God has a Blackberry like us to keep on top of things and all.
I thought of expounding on the upcoming U.S. Presidential election, but then I realized I owe all my Australian friends and "blog-mates" a very sincere, and humble compliment. You guys hold the record for the highest percentage of citizens voting in any country in the world at your elections. The last number I saw was 96%!!! We are lucky is we get more than 45%,...that's just plain sad! I must say there seems to be much more awareness, and "ownership" of your country, and I'm envious. I really get depressed when I realize that more than holf my country men don't seem to give a shit!
OK, now I'm on a roll! Time to announce my platform to run for the President of the United States,...ready?
1. Once you hit 65, you are off the tax rolls. You made your contribution, good or bad, enjoy the rest of your life without the tax man up your butt!
2. We will be doing away with the Internal Revenue Service totally, immediately, in it's place will be an 18% sales tax on everysingle thing you buy, no exceptions, no exemptions. (And guess what? If you can afford 18% on top of the price of a new Corvette,...go for it! I might just step down a notch and get the little, but still sporty Miata. Sort of stay within my means so to speak)
3. All medical care will be at a flat rate of $50 a month per person, deducted from your paycheck and sent to a national fund to administer. No job, no paycheck, no medical care,...you don't care to work, you are on your own. You have a responsibility to the rest of us as wellas yourself. Oh one caveat, if you do get sick then no deduction for that month. The doctors should keep us all healthy, not just hang out and wait for us to get sick!!
4. Every citizen is entitled to a full one hour body massage every other week,....hmmmm I will guarantee the health of everyone goes up, and the sickness rates go down. (SOAP BOX PREACHY TIME: We are all stressed, and the vast majority of people I know haven't a clue how to get rid of stress other than drink(not water and such,..but DRINK!), try and "work it out" with hours of brutal exercise (Yuck! pleasingly plump is a good thing.), or just let it build til you"blow up" i.e. rage blowup, petty blow up (you're not wearing that again are you?), work blow up, "screw it I'll look at it again tomorrow, etc.
This is going around like a balloon you blow up and let go of and it just goes all over the place. But it gave me a great idea for a challenge blog. So here goes:
HOW DO YOU DEAL WITH STRESS? But more importantly, how do you know you are stressed? Any physical, or emotional, or "red flag behaviours you are aware of?
Drop me a response so everyone can see, I'm really interested. And if you say you never get stressed,....well you need the full body massage more than I do for sure, 'cuz I know I stress too much!
AND how do you relieve stress,...what works for you, meditation, working out, stuffing yourself with chocolate, a couple more than usual glasses of red, going to bed a lot earlier and sleeping a lot more,...what?
I'll write my own first response.
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