Sunday Special - Jack O Lanterns

There is an overwhelming display of carved pumpkins in the Internet. Here are a few I thought interesting.

 Don't know what this had to do with Halloween, but it's well carved.

 Death Star anyone?

 Oh, no, Mr Bill!

And there's even one for you WVU fans

The Adventures of Bob the Dog – the First Single

The beginning of  Bob the Dog's adventures can be found here.

Bob the Dog and his band – The Back Yard Howlers – have released a single that’s beginning to get a lot of airplay. Frankly, I’m surprised. I thought yodeling was pretty much a thing of the past, but Bob sings some too. It’s interesting that when he sings there’s no trace of the Aussie accent. I’ve heard the song and it’s not that bad. Sort of a throwback to the days of Jimmie Rodgers, but I’m guessing that’s before your time.

The song is titled “I’m So Lonesome I Could Howl” and the last I saw it had been given an “8 kibbles” rating by City Dog/Country Dog magazine. In an accompanying article, Bob’s agent said that the band was in the studio working on their first album.

Meanwhile there’s been a lot of bad press about Bob in the newspapers and entertainment news.  Why am I not surprised? It seems he’s been accused of yodeling in the wrong back yards, among other things. He denies it, and says that it’s just “yammering from some jealous bitzers, and that he’s living on the true.” I'm not so sure about that.

One news item quoted the manager of the Opreyland Hotel as saying, "Bob has certainly worn out his welcome with us. We try to be sensitive to the the needs of guests, but repeatedly diving off the 4th floor balcony into the atrium pool is not behavior that we can condone or permit."

In the mean time, Entertainment Tonight says a French Poodle named Yvette has obtained a restraining order from the Davidson County Sheriff's Office, which bans Bob from coming within 100 feet of her. Bob claims that it's a case of mistaken identity - she's got him confused with some other bloke.

This is not my dog.

...to be continued

It was the demons who saw him first.

When his boat was just a speck far out on the water they became agitated, and when the demons got agitated my life became a living hell.

But then, it always was the demons in control. Even as a boy they would seize me and make me do unimaginable things. When I was small, my parents could control me, could hold me down until the seizures stopped, but as I grew older and stronger, so did the demons. At first my family locked me in a storage room and pushed food in through a little window, but I was soon able to kick the door down and whenever I got free I would destroy everything in the house. Every jar, every chair, every garment. Then they tried chains and shackles, but the demons simply broke them, so they tried stronger chains and more chains, and posted guards, but it didn’t do any good. No chain was as strong as the forces within me. No man could restrain me. At that point they drove me out of the village. It took every man in the village to do it. Maybe some of you were part of that crowd.

Do you know what it’s like to live like an animal? No, worse than an animal. Much worse. A naked, raving lunatic, living out in the hills among the tombs, howling at the moon all night, screaming at the top of my lungs all day, raging at any and everyone who comes near. I cannot tell you how many times I tried to kill myself, but the demons wouldn’t let me. I would cut myself with sharp stones and bash my head with rocks, but they would never let me finish the job. Evil spirits were in control of my body and my life. Maybe some of you knew me then, remember what I was like. Maybe you threw stones at me. Maybe I threw stones at you.

Then one day he sailed his boat right up to the shore and stepped out and said something to the demons and suddenly they weren’t raging – they were terrified. They began shrieking and wailing and they made me run down to the shore to him, and then they threw me down at his feet. And then the strangest thing happened: they called the man Jesus, Son of the most high God, and they begged him not to torture them! They begged him! The demons that snapped chains and cast off shackles and broke the bones of those who tried to restrain me groveled at his feet and begged for mercy!

He asked them their name and in a thousand voices they replied, “My name is legion, there are so many of us.” Then they begged him to let them go into the herd of pigs that was on the opposite hill, and when he told them “Go!” it was like every fiber of my being was ripped from my body. But when they were gone, for the first time in my life, I felt at peace. I felt whole. I felt like a human being again. I began to kiss the feet of this man, but he had me sit up, and someone handed me a garment, and then he began to talk to me about the most wonderful things.

Everyone else was watching the pigs running down the hill to the bluff and plunging into the sea, but he was looking only at me; talking only to me. I tried to tell him what my life had been like, but it was like it had never happened. Instead, he began telling me what my new life was going to be like, and it was wonderful.

We were still talking when some of the town’s people came running up to see what the commotion was. They saw me and immediately picked up rocks and stones to drive me away, but when they saw that I was just sitting there, having a normal conversation, you should have seen their jaws drop!

It got ugly after that. When they saw what had happened to the pigs, to their livelihood, they wanted no part of Jesus, Son of the most high God. Some begged him to leave; some even threatened him if he didn’t, so he got back in the boat. I begged him to take me with him. I wanted to serve this man for the rest of my life. I wanted to be his slave! But he wouldn’t let me. He told me to go tell my story, so that’s why I’m here.

I am here to tell you that I was already dead – worse than dead – and he gave me life. He defeated my demons and set me free, and he can do the same for you. He is stronger than whatever possesses you; he can defeat whatever drives you. I beg you, find this man and fall at his feet and acknowledge that he is Jesus, Son of the most high God, and ask him to release your demons.

He did it for me. He will do it for you.

Monday Meanderings - Oct 25

Uhhh... we may have a problem here. Accompanying a news article about the increase in bank robberies in Texas was a photo.  A photo that one might think looks familiar.

This is a photo of the "I-35 Bandit" (courtesy of the FBI, no less). If you think it looks like someone you know, IT'S JUST A COINCIDENCE!  But I may have Barb do all the banking for a while, just in case.

The tomato plants played out a few weeks ago. They quit setting fruit and got really scraggly, so Barb set the containers aside and we quit watering them. You know where this is going, don't you? Yep. Six tomatoes coming on strong. Same thing with the pot of chrysanthemums that we thought got killed in the cold of winter.  Maybe we don't have this gardening thing figured out.

Mixed sports bag this weekend; Rangers won, Horns lost, Browns won. We seldom see Browns games in this part of the country but CBS routed the Browns/Saints game to us and it was neat to watch Colt playing like a real NFL quarterback. He did not put up great numbers, but unlike the other QB, he did not hurt his team with mistakes.  Of course, the sports weekend isn't over until we see what miserable errors great plays the Cowboys have in store for us on MNF.

Speaking of the Rangers, one of my children is a true Yankees fan, to the point that he changed his Facebook picture to the Yankee logo during the playoffs (you are going to change that soon, aren't you?). To his credit, he has been loyal his team while catching a lot of grief from his friends on FB. I didn't say anything until the Rangers won, and then it was a modest comment if I do say so myself. He replied, "This coming from someone who cannot name 3 players without a program?" That's not so, I replied.. "I can name 3 players. Of course, they are all Yankees."

And I'll pass along the thought for the day.

The Adventures of Bob the Dog – Tishomingo Take Down

The beginning of  Bob the Dog's adventures can be found here.

Last week I got a $300 bill from a Veterinary Clinic in Tishomingo, Oklahoma for “Surgical repair to the left ear of a Blue Heeler named ‘Bob’.”

I waited to see if I would get any more news about this particular issue, and sure enough in a couple of days I got an email from Bob. I’ll let you read it in its entirety:

Bob Dog bobdog1215@gmail.com to me

G’day Mate

I guess by now the postie has fetched the docket from the vet. Just put that on my shirt tail and I'll pay you back when my first album goes aluminum.

Me and the mates were playing for pints and petrol in a little joint in Tishomingo when things got a little barney. We had done both sets and were loading out when a Rottweiler who was full as a boot began howling at us. I tried to never mind him until he began going on about me mum – you know what I mean – and that's when I decided he needed sorting.

We took it out the back but it was a tee-up. The Rott and his mates had hosed down the alley and there was about a foot of muck back there and me being at least 20 kilos lighter than the Rott I didn't have much of a purchase. Well, to wrap it all up, he blinkin' near tore my ear off and if Leroy hadn't tapped him about a bit with the inn keeper’s baseball bat I might have carked it right there.

As it is, the doc needled me up and when I get the cotton out of me ear I'll be able to hear again, and of course, I do need to be able to hear so as to be able to yodel, so thanks for helping me out, mate.

Bob the Dog

Glad I could help, Bob.

…to be continued

What I like about retirement

Barb's sister and her husband have recently joined us in this wonderful condition called retirement. They live out in the Hill Country and we've learned not to call before 10 in the morning (not that we are up by then). Betty keeps us supplied with good retirement-based blog material, like the following:

Question:  How many days in a week? 
Answer:  6 Saturdays, 1 Sunday.

Question:  When is a retiree's bedtime? 
Answer:  Three hours after he falls asleep on the couch.

Question:  How many retirees to change a light bulb? 
Answer:  Only one, but it might take all day.

Question:  What's the biggest gripe of retirees? 
Answer:  There is not enough time to get everything done.

Question:  Why don't retirees mind being called Seniors? 
Answer:  The term comes with a 10% discount.

Question:  Among retirees what is considered formal attire? 
Answer:  Tied shoes.

Question:  Why do retirees count pennies? 
Answer:  They are the only ones who have the time.

Question:  What is the common term for someone who enjoys work and refuses to retire?
Answer:  NUTS!

Question:  Why are retirees so slow to clean out the basement, attic or garage?
Answer:  They know that as soon as they do,one of their adult kids will want to store stuff there.

Question:  What do retirees call a long lunch? 
Answer:   Normal.

Question:  What is the best way to describe retirement? 
Answer:  The never ending Coffee Break.

Question:  What's the biggest advantage of going back to school as a retiree?
Answer:  If you cut classes, no one calls your parents.

Question:  Why does a retiree often say he doesn't miss work, but misses the people he used to work with?
Answer:  He is too polite to tell the whole truth.

Question:  What do you do all week? 
Answer:  Monday through Friday, NOTHING..... Saturday & Sunday, I rest.

And there's more...

Reporter interviewing a 104-year-old woman:
'And what do you think is the best thing about being 104?' the reporter asked.  She simply replied, 'No peer pressure.'

The nice thing about being senile is you can hide your own Easter eggs.

I've sure gotten old! I've had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, new knees, fought prostate cancer and diabetes. I'm half blind, can't hear anything quieter than a jet engine, take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts. Have bouts with dementia. Have poor circulation; I hardly feel my hands and feet anymore. Can't remember if I'm 85 or 92. Have lost all my friends. But, thank God, I still have my driver's license!

I feel like my body has gotten totally out of shape, so I got my doctor's permission to join a fitness club and start exercising. I decided to take an aerobics class for seniors. I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down, and perspired for an hour. But, by the time I got my leotards on, the class was over.

An elderly woman decided to prepare her will and told her preacher she had two final requests. First, she wanted to be cremated, and second, she wanted her ashes scattered over Wal-Mart.  'Wal-Mart?' the preacher exclaimed. 'Why Wal-Mart?' 
'Then I'll be sure my children will visit me twice a week'.

My memory's not as sharp as it used to be. Also, my memory's not as sharp as it used to be.

Know how to prevent sagging?  Just eat till the wrinkles fill out.

It's scary when you start making the same noises as your coffee maker.

These days about half the stuff  in my shopping cart says, 'For fast relief.'

THE SENILITY PRAYER:
Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway,
the good fortune to run into the ones I do,
and the eyesight to tell the difference.

Monday Meanderings - Oct 18

A followup on the Thong Guy - the picture of the birthday-suit wearing bicyclist shared by Aaron and friends in last weeks' MMs. I noted that John Kelso - the Statesman humorist wrote about the dude and asked for pictures, so I forwarded the one sent to me (with due credit - I said I had no earthly idea where the pic came from).

This week Kelso blogged, "You wouldn’t think an article about a guy riding around town on a bike in nothing but a tiny G-string would stir up more than 100 emails and double figures of photos of the guy. But it did. I think I may be the last person in Austin who hasn’t seen [him]." And he went on to say that now that he has, please, no more pictures!

"He’s reported to wear a variety of thongs: white, gold lame, leopard, purple, turquoise and magenta. He’s been spotted near Whole Foods, Doss Elementary School, Alandale, near Wiggy’s Liquors on West Sixth, 29th and Lamar, Far West Boulevard, Shoal Creek Boulevard, and many other points. His picture has been taken almost as much as Brooklyn Decker."

There also was discussion about where he keeps his house key.

In addition to little portable white boards so we can write down things we need to remember (from one room to the next), I think auto makers ought to add an automated message that says, when you turn off the car, "Is there anything in the car you need to take in? Groceries, Library books, boxed food, your spouse?"

I have discussed my phobia regarding parking garages. The other day I had an appointment which required parking in a garage that I am actually somewhat familiar with, and can navigate somewhat well. That means I have never had to search more than 2 floors, looking for my car. I did good this time and went straight back to my car (okay, it was parked right next to the elevator) and was looping down toward the toll booth when... I met an inordinately large SUV coming UP the DOWN portion of the ramp.

Mind you, this was not a two-way street; there is room for ONE vehicle only. The guy in the SUV gave me the evil eye, as if I were the bad guy, and just sat there. I finally rolled down my window and pointed at all the cars beside us and yelled, "This is one way - that way!" pointing the direction he came from. He didn't buy it at first, but I could see his wife pointing at all the cars angled in the opposite direction, and she gave him what for finally convinced him of the error of his ways.

Now the problem is, he has to back down to a place where he could turn around - and backing was not his strength. Back...stop...pull forward and straighten...back...stop, etc. Finally he got down to the turn and after no more than 15 back and cut moves (did I mention that this was a large SUV?)  got going the other direction. I just wonder if he was coming or going, and how he got turned around in the first place? But knowing, as I do, that parking garages are malevolent places, I'm surprised that hasn't happened to me.

Yesterday, after the 1st service, Barb told me that "Abraham's got nothing on you." Say what? "Yes, in Hebrews it says Abraham went, even though he did not know where he was going." Ouch.

I thought this was a pretty good idea - bacon pancakes.

But this is a better idea. Yes, that's a Krispy-Kreme doughnut.

Just remember the first rule of cooking. You rock, Julia.

The Adventures of Bob the Dog – Bad Dogs Anonymous

The beginning of  Bob the Dog's adventures can be found here.

It took only three days before Bad Dogs Anonymous knew that Bob was just too much dog for them and threw in the towel. They recommended their residence program, Incorrigible Dogs Anonymous, or IDA, as it is known locally.

The following Monday, Bob and I met with the counselors at IDA, who seemed a rather nervous lot. They kept looking at the transcript of Bob’s time in plain old BDA, and kept muttering things like, “You know that success depends entirely on the canine.” And “Not all dogs are meant to be domestic pets” and “You do know that our fees are payable regardless of the outcome of the program, don’t you?”

When I left, I looked back at Bob and he was looking at me with his puppy dog eyes. I might have been more sympathetic if I had not just read in the Statesman that police had recovered a taxi in Brown County, missing from Austin since a taxi-driver had been car-jacked after being called to a fake address on Cameron Road a week ago. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you Bob?

I didn’t hear anything from the folks at IDA all week and I really thought that was a good sign – until I drove over there on Friday afternoon to take Bob home for week-end furlough and found the building locked and seemingly abandoned. I called the number but service had been disconnected, and when I called the folks at plain old BDA they put me on hold and never picked up the phone again.

I was a little wary of the whole situation, but Bob did not show up next door and Monday I got a fancy certificate in the mail that said Bob the Dog had completed all aspects of his rehab in exemplary order and that there absolutely was no need for further treatment. I was dubious, but frankly, I could live without Bob and his escapades. I just had to keep telling myself: This was not my dog! This was NOT my dog!

So actually I was pretty happy when I got a text message from Bob Monday night. It said simply, “FOUND OUT I CAN YODEL. ME & MATES HEADED FOR NASHVILLE.”

I just wondered who paid for the cell phone. Silly me.


Next - Tishomingo Takedown

Mind Boggling

I stayed up for a while last night to watch the rescue efforts underway to bring the Chilean miners to the surface. So many things about that are just unbelievable - that they found them alive in the first place, that they have been down there for 69 days, that they engineered a solution that seems to be working just fine, that we are seeing the rescue efforts from both ends.

Judy Maggio, our favorite news anchor person summed it up nicely, "It's so nice to be able to bring you good news. So often it's just the bad."

Monday Meanderings - Oct 11

I am loving this weather! Coffee on the patio is wonderful, even if some mornings you have to take the snuggy out there too. That is so not a problem!

My vote for Dad of the Year goes to the man who walked patiently behind his son on their way to be seated in Chuy's the other evening. The boy - about 4 years old - was wearing giant yellow plastic clown shoes. And he went CLOMP, CLOMP, CLOMP as he walked through the restaurant.

I was watching ESPN Game Day last weekend, where they set up the cameras on some college campus lawn and do all the talking head stuff while the student body gathers in the background and waves signs, like the one aimed at Stanford that said "How many push-ups can your tree do?" Or the one that simply said, "Clever Game Day Sign."

The New York Daily News on 28 September had an article about the shooting on the UT campus. According to the News, “SWAT officers and explosive-sniffing bombs were dispersed on campus.” Say what?

And that department in Home Depot mentioned last week? Carpet and flooring, but good guesses, all.

Have you ever had a conversation that lasted well over ten minutes before you realized that you and your spouse were talking about different people?

The Williamson County Republican Committee filed an expense report with the state that listed an expenditure at Round Rock Doughnuts of $5,272,010. Now if you've ever had a big yellow, greasy Round Rock Doughnut you know that they are worth every penny you pay, but folks, that's 813,058 dozen doughnuts! Someone estimated that if laid side by side that would be a trail of doughnuts from Austin to 20 miles past Amarillo. The Committee says it's just a typo, but I can't get that trail of doughnuts out of my mind. How long do you think it would take to eat your way 20 miles past Amarillo?

ACL Music Festival has come and gone, and I didn't get out to hear the Screaming Cabbages. Or was it the Shrieking Cauliflowers? I get those bands mixed up. This year, for the first time in a long time, the weather cooperated; last year everyone was knee-deep in Dillo Dirt (aromatic mud). C3 Presents, the folks that put on the fest are pretty sharp. If you stop by and get a garbage sack, then bring it back full of recyclables, you get a free ACL tee shirt. And this year you can't buy plastic bottles of water in the park, but they will fill and refill any container you bring with you (or the aluminum souvenir bottles they sell) at a number of free water stations.

I ordered some audio accessories for the church, and when the package came there was a handful of candies tossed in. Jawbreakers, some taffy, and a couple of Bit-O-Honeys. Raise your hand if you remember Bit-O-Honeys. Okay - keep them raised if you have seen that particular candy in the stores recently. Me neither.

And this photo - which I have made slightly more family-friendly - was sent to me by my great-nephew Aaron. A friend of his took it during a recent visit to Austin, and Aaron forwarded it to me with the comment that while he understood the concept of "Keep Austin Weird," should it be kept this weird?

I assured him that many bicyclists in Austin ride with no helmets, and that it was not weird at all.

Actually, the dude is getting some notice in Austin. Here's what Statesman Humorist John Kelso had to say about him yesterday.

The Adventures of Bob the Dog – Impounded!

The beginning of  Bob the Dog's adventures can be found here.

I’ll be honest and say that after some time had passed and it got strangely quiet next door – no more howling at the moon – I really, deep-down, was hoping that Bob had run off to seek his fortune elsewhere. I felt a little guilty about it, but this was not my dog, people! I should have known that I wouldn’t be that lucky and sure enough, just when I was feeling a little smug, I got a call from the Brown County dog pound. They said they had my dog; did I want to pay the fees and come get him or what?

“What do you mean you have my dog? I don’t have a dog!”
“Well, I’ve got a good-looking Blue Heeler here wearing a tag with your name and phone number on it. Is your dog named ‘Bob’?” the voice said.
“Let me talk to the dog.”
“Excuse me?” the voice said.
“Never mind. How much is the fine?
“Two hundred dollars or three 50-lb bags of Bugle Boy dog food with real beef morsels and enroll the dog in rehab. Your choice.” said the voice.
“I gotta go buy some Bugle boy. I’ll be there in the morning.”
“Be sure it's with ‘real beef morsels.’ That’s the only kind we accept.”

Turns out that they caught Bob trying to break into Underwood’s Cafeteria in Brownwood in the middle of the night. On the way home he said that he had paid good money for what he thought was the alarm code and that he should have known better than to trust a Pomeranian.

I asked him how he got to Brownwood and he said I really didn’t want to know.

I asked him how it was that he had a dog tag with my name and phone number on it and he said he ordered it over the Internet right after it became obvious that Cole was not coming back.

I started to ask him how he paid for the alarm code and ID tag, but I thought better of it. Bob is right. Some things you just don’t want to know.

“You know you’re going to have to do a rehab program, don’t you? I have to send a certificate of completion to the pound.” Bob allowed as how he could do that and he had heard that Bad Dogs Anonymous probably had the best recovery rate, so would I mind getting him in there?

So Bob the Dog is now enrolled in Bad Dogs Anonymous. I drop him off every morning and pick him up every evening. It does not bother me that when I pick him up, all the staff and administration hide behind closed doors until we leave. Much.

I’m really, really hoping that this is going to be the end of it.

I’m such a fool.

 Next - Bad Dogs Anonymous

Monday Meanderings - Oct 4

This, by the way, is not Bob the Dog. But if he doesn't change his ways...

Seen this week on a bumper sticker - "Honk if I left the infant seat on top of the car again"

New at Chuy's - Stuffed Fried Avocado. It's as decadent as it sounds.

Okay, I admit that I'm knee-deep in stereotypes here, but can you tell me what department at Home Depot Barb was in when  Associate Roger told her he just loved her purse?

The Statesman had several pictures of SWAT teams and other officials responding to the incident on the UT campus this week. One picture was of an officer who appeared at first to be carrying a bazooka to the scene. A bazooka? Was this the proper response? Is that ever the proper response on campus? Fine print in the caption identified the long, tubular object as a battering ram. Oh. Okay.

And our friend Sarah proposed on Facebook that today should be "a no-Monday Monday. Pajama day, sleep in, and call off all obligations" day. I asked her how that differed from my every Monday? And Tuesday, and...

And also on Facebook, our other daughter Julie - no the other Julie - said, "What's the correct answer when your child asks if you want to see them ride their scooter with no hands and their eyes shut?"

The Adventures of Bob the Dog – the Meat Market Massacre

"Bob the Dog" adventures start here.

As soon as I saw the story on the ten o'clock news I knew Bob the Dog had struck again. The manager of the Monterrey Meat Market up on Braker was describing in vivid Spanish how a pack of “...wild dogs had burst through the automatic door and laid waste to several thousand dollars of the finest steaks, chops and ribs this side of the Rio Grande.”

At least I think that’s what he said. My Spanish is not too good, but I did recognize the word “perro” multiple times and the camera did show a trail of meat products leading out the door, where – the TV reporter informed us – witnesses said there had been a pickup waiting for the ill-gotten gain to be loaded and “swore that some kind of dog was driving.” The police naturally were skeptical and the news reporter even rolled her eyes a little, but the fact remained, a pick-up truck filled with the Market’s finest product sped away from the store.

The next morning, the newspaper picked up the story and added that the truck, reported stolen from the River City Bingo parking lot, had been found abandoned in a ditch off of Sprinkle Cut-Off Road. There were a few scraps of cellophane and some blood stains in the back, but the police were quick to point out that the blood was not human in origin and that it was most likely from a fresh Porterhouse, recently liberated from the Monterrey Meat Market, scene of yesterday’s crime. It also appeared that there had been quite a bit of canine activity in the area, based on paw prints found in the muddy ditch.

Naturally, when I checked on Bob the Dog next door, he was in his place, nice as you please, and had nothing to say about any recent felonious activity, but his eyes had a glassy protein-suffused stare and his belly was again bloated. We did talk hypothetically about how a life of crime would probably not end well for a dog, but I don’t think it made any kind of impression on Bob. The attraction of fresh, red meat is a mighty hard demon to quell. He did agree that his prospects were limited. I thought he was talking about how a life of crime would quickly turn bad for him. Turns out that he was only talking about what a paucity of meat sources he had to choose from.

Next - Impounded!