Monday Meanderings - 3.30.2015

The local In-N-Out burger places are almost always jam-packed at any given time. So who thought it a good idea to stop by one during SXSW and Spring Break? #wowlookatthatline

I bought a package of a local coffee while we were in Honduras and I've been trying to make it last, reserving it for mornings when I can sip it while sitting out on the patio. It's going fast.

From the frequency and duration of time that the AT&T U-verse service truck sits in front of our neighbor's house I can only assume a couple of scenarios. The first is that U-verse is a terrible cable services provider and should be avoided like the plague. The second possibility is that the technician and the neighbor are carrying on a torrid romance. Or, I guess both is another possible scenario.

I have a picture, but after long, careful thought I decided not to post it. It was featured in another of the many reasons why Austin is - and always will be - weird. As part of  the "Get Your Rear in Gear 5K Run/Walk," sponsored by the Colon Cancer Coalition, participants got to trot through a giant, Pepto-Bismol pink inflatable... colon. Yep. Complete with veins and funky little bumps, which one  can only assume represent the kind of things the Colon Cancer Coalition wants to prevent. You're welcome.

I mentioned the historic Burma Shave signs in my last post (it was in an update; if you didn't see that reference try this link). Of course, you have to be of a certain age to know about the Burma Shave signs. They were common on Highway 180 between Breck and Fort Worth back in the day. Here's a link to the Wikipedia history of the signs, and here's a link to a compilation of all the signs themselves.

I leave you with a favorite:

He saw 

The train

And tried to duck it

Kicked first the gas

And then the bucket

But will I be able to play the violin?

I had an uncle who lost his left arm after his vehicle was sideswiped by a truck many, many years ago. In the days before air conditioning, it was not uncommon to drive with an arm propped in the open window and that was my uncle's undoing. Forever since, "Don't prop your arm in the driver's window" has been a family tenet. I think it has even been mentioned to my grandchildren. Barb reminded me this morning that it was even the topic of an old Burma Shave sign:

     "Don't stick your arm

     Out too far.

     It might go home

     In another car."

I was much younger when I had contact with Uncle Erwin; he and his family lived in Louisiana and the visits were infrequent, but I remember being fascinated about the lack of his arm - and how little effect it had on him. In an era when there was no Velcro and pull-over shirts simply weren't worn, he learned to button his pants and shirts with one hand. Driving was never a problem, and he even learned to tie his shoelaces with one hand!

I can't. Tie my shoelaces with one hand, that is. I know this because my left arm is currently in a sling, common procedure after arthroscopic surgery. It was minor surgery, but has temporarily made me like my Uncle Erwin.

Truth be told, I am not one-armed. I'm more one-and-a-half armed. I can easily use my left hand - if it is within close proximity to my body. What I cannot do is extend my left arm forward, or to the rear of my body, and only partially to the side. If I can get the task at hand near to me, I'm good. The rest will have to wait for physical therapy and healing.

In this temporary condition, I have been made more aware of what an actual disability might mean; I try various tasks just to see if  I can do them with one hand. I can type, even if it is the Columbus method (find the key and land on it). For those keyboard functions that require two hands, there is a Windows feature called "sticky keys" that provides assistance for combinations like Alt-Ctl-Del. Apple builds a similar function into the OS operating system as well.

Shoelaces? Velcro or elastic shoelaces. Shirts and buttons? Easy, depending on the hand available, or with "button aids." Pull your pants on? Doable, but it's not pretty without "dressing sticks." In fact there is a wide variety of ability products and devices available, including sock aids, one-handed belts, one-handed nail clippers, one-handed can openers, Wash your hand? Sponges do the trick.

But playing the violin? Some things were just not meant to be.

Monday Meanderings - 4.23.2015

Closed for repairs today. More on Wednesday.

Thanks for stopping by.

What's your 100 best?

I read a book a while back and in the story the main character had received an iPod for Christmas (tells you how old the book was), with a gift certificate for 100 downloaded songs. As a running theme throughout the book, the character added and removed songs from his list, which he was characterizing as the 100 Best Songs of the Rock Era.

He would consult with his partners and others as the story proceeded, and everyone had strong feelings about what should and should not be on the list. At the end of the book, the author listed the final selection. I copied it and took a look.

Of the 100, I was familiar with probably 90 of them (there were a few artists included that did not hit their stride until the '80s and '90s (so tell me when I stopped listening to radio). Of the 100 I agreed with about 50.

So I set out to compile my own list, and it has been quite a nostalgia trip. My "free" music source is currently Amazon Prime, and I can't always find the artists and versions of the songs I want, but somehow I have managed to download around 110 songs, though the list changes every few days as I listen and think of other music I want to include. If I consider 100 as the firm limit, I have some trimming to do.

Since I am of the generation that invented Rock and Roll, that genre dominates the list. And even if the artist's career spans several decades, I favor the "early" years, like Chuck Berry and "Maybellene" or "Memphis Tennessee." But I have to include some Peter, Paul and Mary, and Tina, (Proud Mary, of course).

And, of course, early Don and Phil and Buddy Holly in honor of all the times Bobby Knight, Phil Dye, Jerry Gibson and I spent sitting on the horse lot fence, smoking cheap cigars and singing, "Wake Up Little Suzy," and "Peggy Sue," and "Bye Bye Love." We were actually pretty good. Or so we thought.

No 100 Best list is complete without ZZ Top, Aerosmith, Hollies, Allmans, CS&N, Guess Who, Dylan and Janice. And I even included Bruce Springsteen's "Fire," the only song of his I can abide. My problem is, once I think of an artist, I want several of their songs. Sort of causes list bloat.

And then there are the anomalies; Tracy Chapman, the Pointer Sisters, the Police, John Lee Hooker, and my one concession to the modern era, Sarah McLachlan's "Angel," best listened to in the dark, along with Arlo Guthrie's "Train They Call the City of New Orleans." Lights out, for sure.

Give it some thought. What songs would be on your top 100?

Monday Meandering - 3.16.2015

 If you miss me, I'm probably out standing in line to be one of the first to sign up for one of those new $10,000 Apple watches. Now that I'm retired it's really important to me to be on time. And be styling.

Got a nice rain this past week. The gauge says about 2 1/2 inches fell in our back yard from last Sunday night thru Tuesday. Makes the bluebonnets grow, of which there are many now.

I downloaded an app for my phone to help keep up with all the various merchant loyalty cards. Beats having a pocket full of them on the key ring. Only problem is, every time I drive by one of the participating stores, like CVS, the app goes "Cha-ching" like a cash register to alert me to savings it has found for that vendor.

Trying to find the cause of an annoying little rash, the dermatologist gave me a patch test, which entails taping a series of panels containing multiple sources of potential allergens to my back. For two days I walked around feeling like I had a board strapped on back there. He read the results Wednesday and there was a faint reaction to.... gold jewelry. Wait! There goes the gold Apple watch! Sigh.

It's South By Southwest time again, or as we locals call it - "South By." Started off as a little musical festival and it has morphed into a couple of weeks of film, interactive, music and who knows what else. Someone mentioned that they boarded a plane in Chicago headed home to Austin and every person on the plane was coming to SXSW. Austin does know how to throw a party. On the news last night some reporter was at a party and the guest DJ was Frodo.

Went to a Burmese barbeque last night. Barb regularly works with several of the Burmese women who attend our church, conducting ESL lessons, and more recently tutoring to pass the US Citizen exam. Her student passed, and we were invited to the celebration party. When we arrived, 3 or 4 grills were churning out skewers of various meats and there were pans of delicious looking BBQ. One of our hosts was explaining the choices to me, and demonstrated how they dipped each morsel into a spicy sauce.

His accent was heavy, but I definitely heard the terms "beef tongue" and "chicken hearts." I stopped listening closely after that. For what it's worth, beef tongue is pretty chewy, and chicken hearts don't taste like chicken. As for the other items... let's just say that ignorance is tasty.

People watching - the great American pastime

Airports are among the prime people watching spots in existence. They are the crossroads of culture in our present world - businessmen and women, families on the way to see grandma, foreigners both local and distant, and an ever changing vista of young and old. All with agendas, all worn down by the burdens of contemporary air travel.

Coming back from our recent cruise, we spent several hours in Houston's Hobby airport. Hobby is transitioning from a small downtown regional airport into an international airport, and there is major construction going on. Add to that confusion the effects of an hours-late cruise ship arrival dumping hundreds of missed-connection passengers at the ticketing counters of an already crowded facility and the chance for observing people under stress increases a thousandfold.

We settled our transportation changes rather quickly, thanks to Barb's suggestion that we call Southwest, rather than stand in the long, long line, and we found a relatively calm place to park and watch the mayhem around us.

A number of collegiate sports teams were criss-crossing the country by way of Southwest and Hobby; we saw the Illinois State softball team, hauling baggage, bats, and buckets of balls. Made me wonder if the bats and balls were carry-on, checked at the gate, part of your allotted 2 bags or all of the above. I never thought about how much equipment a ball team has to schlep around.

The Stanford Baseball team came through on the way home after a series with the Rice Owls. We chatted with one of the coaches about their outing. They split the series but didn't get in the rubber match because of bad weather. They were happy to be going home to sunny California.

Perhaps the most unusual group we noticed was a wheelchair rugby team; each member in a more-or-less conventional wheelchair, pushing another wheelchair, which from the beat-up condition must have been the competition chairs. Each was piled high with luggage, and they made an interesting parade. About this same time there was a couple nearby, the young woman in a wheelchair and a young man accompanying her. They seemed to be having a good time as he wheeled her around the concourse, racing and twirling and spinning. They kept running into people (me, for one) in their frivolity, but only the young woman seemed concerned about it.

 Waiting at the gate we saw a woman with a dog as big as a small child, along with a young child who couldn't sit still. Perhaps the dog was a service animal. Perhaps it was a spoiled pet. Across from me, I noticed someone who can only be described as a geek with a back pack stuffed with 3 - count 'em, 3 - MacBook Air laptops, 2 iPads and at least one cell phone. He sorted through the MacBooks to find the one he wanted, put the iPads back in the pack, connected his iPhone as a hotspot and began doing whatever geeks do in airports. Play games, probably.

And then there were these two old senior citizens, weary from a week away and a long wait to get started home.

Monday Meanderings - 3.9.2015

Went cruising down in the Caribbean last week. Our intent was to get out of town while Mother Nature had one last fling at cold weather, but it didn't quite work out that way. After becoming quite accustomed to balmy 78 degree weather, we came home in time to participate in the Chillypocalypse of 2015.

Dire forecasts predicted ice, sleet and maybe even snow. Schools and government offices flew the frosty flag of surrender and cancelled all classes and activities on Wednesday, in face of Thursday's impending white out. Only it never happened. Early morning sun melted what little ice formed - mostly in the Hill Country and to the north of us - and but for a stiff breeze, it was a nice, sunshiny day. A local weatherman posted pictures of ice on his deck - cubes tossed there from his freezer.

Cold weather notwithstanding, I saw my first bluebonnet blooms of the season on Wednesday, and the lawn guys were mowing  the neighbor's grass.

Had an appointment for more claustrophobic fun in a MRI tube this past week. Just as I was called back to begin the process, the fire alarm went off. When there was no announcement about it just being a drill, those in charge led us all out the door to the front of the clinic. Fortunately, I had not yet put on the gown of shame and was still fully dressed. Unfortunately, when everyone leaves the facility they have to cycle down the equipment and it was quite a while before we got the process completed.

Monday Meanderings - 3.2.2015

I may have posted these before. That's one of the nice things about getting old; you get to enjoy a lot of new things - all over again.

Here are a few things that I'm pretty sure my grandchildren have never seen, and possibly some my children have missed. We'll start with an easy one:

While the item in question is the photo on the left, I'm pretty sure the item on the right will be a mystery as well.

And after you got your stamps, you had to paste them in those little books.

Of course, I never needed one of these.

The actual question here is, do they know what film is?

All right, I confess. I didn't know about milk chutes either. At our house, the milkman just left the bottles on the front step. And there were little round cardboard disks used for stoppers.

They called these "no-draft" windows, but there was still a draft.

It's not the pull tab. It's the tab coming off the container. Sometimes.

"I've got a brand new pair of roller skates, you've got a brand new key. I think that we should get together and try them on to see."

I'm giving no clues here. You tell me what it is.