I Know She’s Holding Out On Me…

My wife’s walk-in closet fell apart last weekend. Again…her walk-in closet, no longer able to endure the stress being placed upon it…collapsed.

Now, I don’t usually look into her closet, but when I heard the sound of broken shelving and twisted metal…not to mention her scream for help…I reluctantly went up stairs knowing exactly what I was about to see…

And still I was shocked. 

My wife has always been a working professional in the drug industry, so she has many suits and other clothing stuff that business professionals wear. When you combine that with clothes for different seasons, physical changes, age, and the fact that she is a self-admitted pack-rat…we still have the megaphone high school cheerleaders yell into sitting in my garage…that we brought with us from New Jersey…that she brought with her to our house in New Jersey…from Pennsylvania…after we got married…by now you get my point.

She’s bought more suits and clothing than I could ever think possible. I think she also suffers from paralysis by analysis when it comes to what clothing to get rid of, be it out of style, no longer fitting as it did when purchased…whatever…

As much as her vast wardrobe shocked me…nothing could prepare me for the shoes. The Imelda Marcos shoe museum should have so many shoes. Which brings me to the title of this post…she said she counted 208 pairs of shoes…I know there’s more…I think she only counted the ones in her closet and our bedroom…I don’t think she’s gotten around to the other rooms yet. I’m willing to go out on the limb of a shoe tree that she has over 300…

If you’re shocked by that number…welcome. If not, then you’ve probably wasted your time reading this.

Upon seeing the destruction and the hopelessness of her closet, I agreed to go out and help her get the materials needed to re-build a closet capable of standing up to such pressure…

While I was thinking local home center, 2×8’s, 3/4 inch plywood, hex bolts and drywall screws, she had a different idea…The Container Store…with it’s fancy wire racking, various types of boxes and containers…expensively fancy stuff…nice to look at…and not made of wood like I suggested…all the salespeople were closet consultants and not some guy wearing bib overalls like at the home center.

In conclusion…my wife took the opportunity to donate clothing and shoes to various charity groups in need of women’s clothing…something she admits she probably should have been doing all along…so I guess it all worked out in the end…

I just don’t understand why she’s giving me a hard time about my 8 pairs of shoes…hell, 2 of them can’t even be worn in the house…

I’m No Gardener Either…

Of all the things people have called me…master gardener isn’t one of them. My 2FE43938-E665-468D-868B-37BB2E6FDE85-2145-00000172701E5C7Dhouse…is where flora and fauna of many types go to die…brutally choked out by the things that thrive at my house…the common pokeweed with its delicious appearing, yet poisonous berries, and the ability to climb higher than the 5’11” I am…and how in the name of Jerry Baker…(apparently he’s a master gardener of some popularity and shouldn’t be confused with the televangelist Jim Baker)…did I manage to get Canada Thistle in my Pennsylvania yard?…thistle is migratory?… like some sort of goose?…and yes, I grow the equally annoying and harder to remove, bull thistle as well…my yard has no prejudices.

No spring or summer would be complete without the annual battle with my true F255F762-76BA-4FAA-8213-36971858854D-2145-0000013C14D2C86Anemesis…poison ivy. I pray every day…whatever bird, rabbit, deer, or other woodland animal that Amble onto my property daily and plant that vile weed into my yard…die a thousand deaths for all the pain, itching, swelling…the doctor’s visits…the steroid treatments…all of it…for what they put me through…

That’s right…I’m no master gardener…if it was up to me, I’d mow it all over and throw down grass seed.

You Wanna Know Why I’m So Miserable?…

Improper food handling. Improper food handling by poorly trained food preparation people.

On Saturday, I stopped at my local convenience store on my morning commute …ordered my raisin bagel toasted with butter…then like an idiot, I sat and watched as a poorly trained food preparer, while buttering my raisin bagel, stopped to grab an oversized handful of pickles he must press with his gloved hand into a little container, which he then handed to a customer who was not me…and then he re-commenced buttering my toasted raisin bagel…WITHOUT RE-GLOVING!

I watched, in my morning zombie-like state…knowing what comes next…that first flavor-filled bite of toasted raisin and now pickle juice bagel. Ahhh!

When you change from one food to another in food prep…you have to re-glove!!!…it’s food handling 101 for crying out loud…

I guess I should be somewhat happy…at least he was wearing one of those beard condoms, so I didn’t have any of his beard hair on my toasted raisin pickle juice bagel with butter…10474075-E503-4372-98B6-8E9C4E324F86-1660-000000FBDAAD94BB

 

Let the Job Search Begin…

I’ve finally decided it’s time to go. No, not this blog… from my current employment situation…You’s can’t get rid of me that easily…

Don’t get me wrong…I have a great boss who has a really cool car and reads this blog in the bathroom…what more could I ask for…am I right?

Fortunately, I can take my time looking since I still have a job that pays my bills…and with websites like Zip Recruiter, I have access to all kinds of jobs in my area that were posted months ago, and to my good fortune, seems they were never filled.

I’ve created a resume with so much Shimmer and shinola…there’s no question in my mind that I’ll have a new gig before the end of the year…so boss, if you’re reading this during your morning constitutional, this is my provisional two-week notice…there may be more to follow depending on my success…

I’ve read where NASA is looking for a new Planetary Protection Officer…wonder how many of the boxes I check off for that job?…

 

Another Option for Disney…

Whether you’re a fan of Disney or not, you’ve probably heard of The Hall of Presidents attraction in Walt Disney World in Florida. And maybe you also know it’s currently closed for refurbishment…the newest addition will be the bust of President Trump.

It might be the most controversial thing Disney has ever done…petitions have been signed asking Disney to exclude Trump from The Hall…or at least to not allow him to speak during the show…since 1993 the current President has always given a speech… 

Groups like MoveOn.org have been involved in the fight to exclude Trump from The  Hall, doing what they do best…starting petitions…with all due respect to their efforts, seems like they would have bigger issues deserving of their attention…and of course We the People argue the issue all over the internet…as mean-spirited and divided as ever…with little or no compromise to the debate available…

Well, let’s see if we can change that…maybe make both sides happy happy…it also has been announced that Disney will be changing its Pirates of the Caribbean attraction…again…this time to make it more politically correct. If you’ve been to the parks…been on the ride…you remember the part where your boat floats past a slave auction…all women in chains…to the chant of “We wants the redhead! We wants the redhead”, coming from the assembled pirates, cutthroats, and scurvy scum. Disney wants to change that…okay I get it. But just like The Hall, many have spoken out against the change…some still mad that Jack Sparrow has been added…here’s my suggestion…

Keep the Dems and groups like MoveOn.org happy and don’t add the bust of President Trump…instead, dedicate the Pirates ride to Trump and the members of his cabinet. IMG_0471The part of the ride with the slave auction…the slaves are now played by various We the People…the pirates…you guessed it…his various cabinet members…pirates all, and shouting in unison, “We wants the redhead! We wants the redhead!”, to President Trump, smiling and waving from a window in the west wing. And as a bonus…your boat will now Sail  past a  life-like crooked Hillary Clinton…(his words…not mine) now behind bars, trying to coax that little dog to give her the keys to the cell door…low-key chants of “Lock her up! Lock her up!”, in the background…remember this is a ride dedicated to President Trump…have to give them what they want…

and now leaving The Hall to the Democrats…once again dividing We the People as much as ever…this time simply over two damned amusement park attractions…

Bailey and Us…I Remember When

I remember when we saw him for the first time…his ears too big for his puppy-sized head…his bark short and comical to hear…his hound voice yet to be discovered…his brown eyes and his birthday, both same as my wife’s sealed the deal…

I remember picking him up at the mall…that’s right, we bought him at a pet store, and after 14 years turns out he was a helluva deal…him and the kids went through obedience training, but it didn’t take…God love ’em, those kids were too crazy…

I remember the night we bought him home from the vet’s office…drugged up on pain medication…castration they called it on the bill…responsible ownership they told us…in the back of my mind I still think cruel and heartless…

I remember when curiosity got the better of him…an introduction to electricity and the hazards of chewing electric cords…so that’s what fried beagle smells like…it only ever happened once…I remember how he chewed the rug in our family room…the vote was close…should we replace just the rug?…or him too?…

We all had our nicknames for Bailey…Bailsey, Beagle, Baileydammit…the last one mine, reserved for those times he decided to take a run around the neighborhood…never said we were very creative…

I remember stuffed mallards, rubber balls, and any number of other toys he would fetch and wrestle over…the way he would shake those stuffed mallards as he ran with them…drop a ball at your feet and howl a beagle howl to go again…how he ran up the back stairs in the house, down the hallway to the front stairs, then down and around to the back again…throw it again he dared…

Bailey’s 14 this month…he can’t run the stairs and he only walks when he used to run…he’s come to some kind of agreement with the rabbits in the yard…they don’t even Scamper  for the trees at the sight of him coming out of the house anymore…he walks with a limp…sometime front, sometimes back(?), depends how he slept…he still has most of his teeth, just not all…and apparently there must be male-pattern baldness in his family, how can a 13-inch beagle lose so much hair?…

…he sleeps more now…but as always, there’s never a meal or a treat he’ll pass on…the vet says his heart is good, so we’re looking forward to another year of remembering Bailey when…

 

…we literally hate you, love Dropkick Murphys

The start of summer triggers an annual event in my life…something similar to changing batteries in your home smoke detectors every fall when we change the clocks…although not quite as potentially life-saving as that often neglected piece of home maintenance. That other important event?… adding and deleting songs on my summer music playlist.

 It’s not real hard since my choice of music skews heavily towards mostly rock songs released from the 1960’s through the 1990’s. With just over 100 songs on my playlist, it gets a little boring and too repetitive…having nothing on the list released post Y2K also tends to cut out some potentially great songs. So this year, I decided I would step out of my comfort zone and try something new and different…

Since surprisingly Disco is out now…and when the hell did that happen anyway?…I chose Celtic Punk Rock music. I could have chosen Irish Folk music, but to be honest, I preferred the attitude and energy of Celtic Punk over the…well, folksiness of Irish Folk. At my age, learning the Celtic Punk Rock genre would be hard…I wouldn’t know the sound of a tin whistle from a wooden one…couldn’t tell a Real McKenzie from a Dropkick Murphy if one of them walked up and punched me in the face…so I turned to the place most clueless people go for information …the internet. One quick google search and the world of Celtic Punk was on display…the history of…the bands of…and the greatest songs of…

6336E0EF-D360-4B7A-9AAF-0AD8694EF21D-21970-00000FB7AE2DFF2EThe choice of which band to start with was easy…The Dropkick Murphys. Something about the name… borrowed from the famous wrestler and sanatorium operator, Dr. John “Dropkick” Murphy…just screamed Celtic Punk Rock to me.

If you’re wondering about the title of this post?… it’s a portion of the response sent to Wisconsin Govenor Scott Walker (R) who used their song “Shipping Up to Boston” without permission when he took the stage at the Iowa Freedom Summit…to their credit, they weren’t looking to sue anyone…they just didn’t want their music used by someone who doesn’t share their political viewpoints.

I’ve added a couple other songs recently including the classic “Whiskey in the Jar” by the Killdares …easily my favorite version of the song…and songs from Flogging Molly and The Real McKenzies as well. The current list:

The Dropkick Murphys

  • I’m Shipping Up To Boston
  • End of the Night
  • Johnny Collins’ Wake
  • Rose Tattoo
  • Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ya

Flogging Molly

  • What’s Left of the Flag
  • If I Ever Leave This World Alive

The Killdares 

  • The Queen of Argyll
  • Whiskey in the Jar

The Real McKenzies

  • Chip
  • The Tempest
  • Barrett’s Privateers