Tag: Life

  • ODDS and ENDS: Stupid Tottenham, Window A/C, and Recovering

    ODDS and ENDS: Stupid Tottenham, Window A/C, and Recovering

    (I can’t believe my way-back-when…)

    Well… after getting just routed by Liverpool on Sunday, (and it was awful especially being that the win gave Liverpool the Premier League Title) stupid Tottenham went on to beat Bodo/Glimt 3-1 in the fist leg of the Europa League Simi-final. That gave Spurs a pretty nice cushion going into the second match, as it will be played in Bodo/Glimt. This means there is a pretty good chance that Tottenham Hotspur will play for a title after having one of their worst home league seasons in years. I’m torn here. One one side, I do like the idea of them winning a trophy, while on the other hand, I feel like I was chewed up and spit out by this team. I am very much aware that I am only a fan and this club owes me nothing, but man… this just has been the roughest season. Just waiting to be put out of my misery.

    We bought an air conditioner about a month ago. It was on sale, and also we wanted to beat the tariffs. It has been sitting in it’s box, in my living room. Every weekend we have planned on putting it in the widow but something keeps coming up. And today, it’s going to be 82 degrees in the City, which is like 92 degrees in the rest of the country. (I can’t explain it, its just how it works.) This new air conditioner will not go into the window today, as the wife is working, and it is a two person job. I will look at my expensive foot rest for another day… wondering how refreshing it’s cool air could be.

    Still not 100% recovered from my stomach bug. Right now, my stomach turns sour whenever I eat anything. I am very tired of toast, and eggs, as that’s the only thing that isn’t causing me a issue. I can drink about half a cup of coffee, and then it just starts burning. I was really hoping to be back to normal by today, but it looks like I have a bland Friday coming my way. If I could have anything, it would be a chicken torta, with extra avocados and jalapenos. Oh… I can taste it right now, and also the pain and discomfort that will come with it. But, isn’t that just how life works sometimes.

  • Local Middle-Aged Man Buys Shoes from His Youth

    Local Middle-Aged Man Buys Shoes from His Youth

    This is a long story, but follow me here…

    So, back in 1992, I was a sophomore in high school, and the way my town ran their schools, 10th grade sophomore year was your first year in high school. As such, we sophomores were the new kids in class, and as such, we were all figuring out how high school worked.

    I had come into high school with this idea that theatre was going to be one of my things, as my high school not only had a proscenium theatre, but also a theatre classroom and a blackbox theatre as well. Now, let’s not get crazy here, this was still Texas, so the entire focus of the school was on football, and that got all the money and attention. Yet, for some reason, there was this little pocket of theatre in the high school, and I wanted to be a part of it.

    And as I navigated this new world of high school theatre, with all of the pretension and promise, one of the upper classmen, a senior whose name I no longer remember, told me as he looked at my Reebok high-tops, that theatre people wear black high-top Chuck Taylor All-Stars. I was gullible and desperate for approval, so clearly I had to go out and get a pair of All-Stars. To my mother’s dismay, as she had just bought me a new pair of Reebok high-tops for school, I had her take me to Dillard’s so I could spend my own money ($20) to buy a pair of black high-top Chick Taylor All-Stars.

    From 1992 to this day, I have always owned at least one pair of All-Stars.

    Now, the only change that has occurred with my owning a pair of All-Stars came in 2000, when I went to buy some, but the store was sold out of high-tops, so I bought a pair of the low-tops.

    And Thus! From 2001 to 2025, I have owned only black low top Chuck Taylor All-Stars.

    Except when I went shoe shopping with the kid the other day. As she was looking at a pair of pink All-Star high-tops, I was drawn to the black high-tops. More for a lark than anything, I tried on a pair just to see. The kid encouraged me to get them, as she hasn’t seen me in anything but low-tops her whole life. I had to make sure she wasn’t messing with me, like telling me to do something to make me look silly. But, my kid isn’t vindictive like that, so she must have meant it, that the shoes looked good on me.

    Funny how that guys comment from high school has stuck with me; He was probably messing with me when he said it.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Everything is Green, Son of a Clothes Horse, and Sick Kid on the Couch

    ODDS and ENDS: Everything is Green, Son of a Clothes Horse, and Sick Kid on the Couch

    (Who said that!? Not Me!)

    …And I hope you enjoy the weird AI image that was created for this post…

    Came out this morning to do the Alt Side Parking Dance, and discovered that our little car was covered in green. The wife had parked under a tree, and now there is a fuzzy haze of pollen all over the vehicle. Besides the fact that my allergies started weeping in despair as I felt my nose simultaneously running and clogging up, I also wondered how much pollen could this car collect? Could my car have so much pollen on it that if I drove around the City, even out in the country, it would act as a pollinator? I know the bees are dying off, but if push came to shove, couldn’t we just drive are cars around to, in a very basic rockbottom way, pollenate the world? Just an idea, cause there is a crap ton of tree pollen on my car.

    First of all, let me start by saying this very loaded statement; I love my wife very much. And as such, we tease each other often, as is our want. There are many things she makes fun of me over, but one of the most recurrent jokes of her’s is to call me a “clothes horse.” Going on twenty years, she’s called me this. Until I had met my wife, I had never heard this term before. A clothes horse is a folding frame used inside someone’s house to hang laundry on while it dries, or a fashionable person who thinks too much about their clothes. (I bet you can guess which definition my wife uses for me.) Most specifically, she will uses this term towards me on days when I have a sitting around the home outfit, a running errands in the neighborhood outfit, and then a third running around town outfit. Not that I do this all the time, but it does happen; I have been known to wear three different outfits in one day. So, I was home visiting my dad the other week, and I witnessed my father doing the same thing; over the course of the day, he had three different outfits he would put on. I had never noticed that, nor thought about it, as that’s just who my father is. Now, I clearly see the depths of the influence this man has had on my life, for I am the Son of a Clothes Horse.

    The kid was sick the other night. Like very sick, and throwing up. She was weak, and needed to be comforted, which I was more than happy to do. As she gets older, the opportunity for a snuggle starts to decrease, you know. But I noticed something as we were on the couch at 2am, hoping that she would be able to keep crackers down; That when she’s sick and on the couch in the daytime, I watch whatever she wants to watch – But at night, I make the kid watch what I want to watch. Nothing inappropriate, but it’s my choice. So, the other night, at 2am, I made my kid watch the MST3k episode “Cave Dwellers.” It’s one of my favorites, and to be honest, I wasn’t too concerned with what the kid thought, as she was nauseous and going in and out of sleep. The next morning, she was feeling better, still a little under the weather, but better. And to my surprise, she was making Cave Dweller jokes – like, “I fell on my eight sided dice,” “Gotta a Minute!” and “The tapes not queued up!” I couldn’t have be prouder to be her father!

  • Another Monday, Dog Grooming Edition

    Yet another Monday, and I am looking at a blank computer screen. At least I was until I just forced myself to start typing something. Because this isn’t writing, it’s typing.

    What I am really doing at this hour is waiting for the dog groomer to call so I can go get our dog. (I have mentioned before that I am not a huge fan of the word “grooming” when it comes to dog hair maintenance, but I may need to just accept that this is the term that everyone has decided to use.) They said the dog would be ready, at most, in three hours, and now that we are at the three-and-a-half-hour mark, I have started to wonder at what state is the progress in? No matter what, I will call them at the four-hour mark, as I have to pick up a kid from school, and I have some other things that I need to accomplish today as well.

    As such, I am here on the couch in a holding pattern on this rather nice day. No rain for this Monday, as compared to the last few. No, this is an actual Spring day, windows open due to the sixty degrees outside. It is the type of weather that makes me optimistic, and forgiving.

    And I think about the things that are coming for me. That taxes are due tomorrow, and we need to pay down some more of our debt. There is a college fund that should receive some additional dollars, and most importantly, I try to stay positive about owning a home one day. A home out of the City, in the country, but not too far away so I can live a lifestyle that is aggressively just beyond the touch of my fingertips.

    Then my wife texts me to say that she hasn’t heard from the groomers, and that I need to call and go get the dog.

    Such is this Monday.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Trains, Planes, and Roadtrips

    (Into this house we’re born…)

    I like the train. See, the kid’s soccer team has started practicing not too far way from the Metro North tracks on Park Ave. The team mets up in the early evening, so all the trains going by are for the rush hour heading out of the City. I’m not saying that I want to commute out the City everyday, but I do miss riding the train for work purposes. A long time ago, I would occasionally take the Long Island Railroad (L I Double R) out to the college I used to work for. On those days, I would be heading in the opposite direction of everyone else; They were coming into the City, and I was heading out. The train was sparsely filled with people, and I got a bit of reading done, or journaling. Other days I would just enjoy watching the City unfurl around me, and give way to Nassau County. It wasn’t the happiest time of my life when I was riding the LIRR, but it was a time that allowed me to be introspective.

    I hate airlines. Flying sucks, and it is not enjoyable. No matter which airline it is, they all blow. Flying today is worse than being on a crowed bus at rush hour. When we make vacation plans, the flying portion of the trip is equal to a hammer being dropped on my foot for three to four hours. The seats suck, the boarding sucks, the nickel and diming sucks, and the other passengers also suck. It’s amazing how the airline industry took something as fun and exciting as flying, and made it uncomfortable as a root canal.

    I love driving across America. And if I have a choice, I will always choose driving over flying. I like highways, and interstates, and roadside attractions. Dinners that are open late, and gas stations that have amazing local restaurants in the back. I like the sound of 18-wheelers passing you on the other side of the highway. I like naps in the backseat, and wondering what is around the bend. I love seeing America, who we are, and how we do things. I love yelling “moo” out the window at cows, and singing in the car. I love moving and discovering.