SCARLET LADIES

I think you all know what comes to mind when we hear the words Scarlet Ladies. I envision the ladies of the old Western saloons all dressed in fancy red dresses. The ladies who tried their best to keep all the men "happy". Well this isn't about them. This is about twenty elderly women prancing around in fancy red hats and purple attire. These twenty are part of nearly 2 million in thousands of similar groups around the world.

Back in 1998 I think there was a little Asian business man sitting in his warehouse, hands clutching his temples wondering "what the hell am I going to do with this red hat overrun". Well I think he got a hold of Sue Ellen Cooper and said "please help me empty this warehouse". Well, she certainly did. She along with some friends started this movement which has expanded to epic proportions. This Scarlet Lady group is led by my wife, the "Queen Mum". They try to get together monthly for nothing more than fun, no business stuff, only lunches, museum trips , tours, plays. Great idea as far as I'm concerned. I'm really thinking of forming a "Blue Cap Society". Men only, wearing blue baseball caps and going to places like bars, hooters, and ballgames.
Well, anyway, each member of the Scarlet Ladies is in charge of planning one of the monthly outings. My wife for some reason has decided that once a year I should become an honorary Red Hatter and hold a picnic as her monthly contribution. I've done this for the past three years and have had our Grandaughters act as waitresses.

The ladies have been treated to Pork Tenderloin, Filet Mignon, and Chicken lunches these past three years, and I must say, although being hard work, it's been fun for me.

Man, it's probably the wine I serve, but I've become quite the hero with these ladies. Why, oh why, couldn't I have been this popular with women when I was young and available.

Seriously, I give these Red Hat groups a lot of credit. No sitting around in a rocking chair knitting sweaters for them. No way, they're out there enjoying themselves and doing things they never had time for before. "My Blue Cap off to you Ladies".

The Gentleman Farmer

No, that's not a snake in my hand, it's a string bean. Last year a friend and neighbor brought over a handful of these beans for me to try. They turned out to be delicious. It turns out that these things are called "Chinese Long Beans" and they grow from 14" to 30" inches long. One day he came over and gave me a small bag of beans from his previous crop. Couldn't figure out what I was going to do with them , but we do have a long 52' wall behind our pool which has been decorated each year with pots of geraniums. The pots rest on soil between the wall and our fence. Good place to plant the beans and let them climb on strings attached to the fence. Then I got a real wild idea, dump the flowers and plant vegetables in the pots.

Well off to Walmart I went, bought cherry tomatoes, yellow tomatoes, peppers, and butternut squash. Never gave any thought to the fact that I had to water the hell out of the pots that dry out every other day. Then my brother tells me I have to fertilize them all summer. I suddenly realized that I was turning into a farmer. ........I like the term "Gentleman Farmer."
Any way the venture is proving to be very rewarding. Each night we've been enjoying salads with our own cherry and yellow tomatoes, peppers and have accompanied our meals with those big long string beans.

I've got five of these big Butternut Squash beauties growing on a 24' vine spreading out from just one little pot....can't believe it. It's been an interesting experience, this "farm" of ours. I stroll around the pool to inspect in the morning and evening to see if the chipmunks have left me any ripe cherry tomatoes for my daily picking. The little bastards are eating well this year. I've been joking with my family that if this pot garden starts producing any more I'm going to build a little stand in front of the house and recoup my investment.

This morning I received an email from my brother reminding me that I complain too much about leading an "old fart's" dull life. He's taken on the task of spicing up my life. This past month he talked me into going to an outdoor concert (Beatles Tribute) in Simsbury. Had a great time especially with the good company, wine and Kentucky Fried Chicken. He's also talked me into blowing the moth balls out of my wallet and buying tickets to a Michael Buble concert in December. Sorry about all those complaining posts Pete, I guess with a little outside help I can still be rejuvenated.

Fruit of the Vine

My nephew and his wife were up from Maryland to show the family their new addition, a beautiful baby daughter, Julia Elizabeth. While we were catching up on things he told me that he was tired of still seeing “The Bucket List” on my Blog site. I told him that entries for me are not as easy as they are for other members of the family. They have so many things to write about, new kids, new jobs, home remodeling, trips, you name it. While I on the other hand have been type caste as a bitcher, moaner and overall grouchy old fart. The only time I get inspired is when I’ve got something that annoys me to the extent that I feel it needs to be shared with the world.

Well, I started to think about this and decided that I do have stuff going on , maybe not super exciting, but if you people are crazy enough to read my stuff I’m going to start telling you what’s going on. For example, we’ve started to make our pilgrimage to all the Connecticut wineries. Over the past few years the Connecticut wineries, all nineteen of them and growing, have what they are calling “A Passport Program”. At the first winery you visit, you pick up a passport and get it stamped at the winery. You then must get your book stamped at a total of fourteen wineries. In late October, you turn in your passport at the last winery you visit. The wineries then hold a drawing for various prizes which, in the past, have included trips to Germany, Spain, California, and Canada along with other prizes. Don’t really expect win anything but our wine tasting trips have been very enjoyable. We travel with another couple and usually visit three of them with a picnic lunch in between. At the visits we taste five or six of their wines, and buy a bottle or two to replenish the wine cooler which shows a great deal of winter depletion. The trip usually takes us thru many small picturesque Connecticut towns. We cap off the day with dinner at a restaurant on our way home. Kind of a senior type of day, don’t you think?

Played golf today in the old guy’s nine hole league and decided that I still don’t understand many things about the game. For the past few years I have driven the ball quite well, not super long but straight. Don’t lose balls anymore. Today, I couldn’t buy a decent tee shot, but ended up shooting 40 with the absolute best putting round of my life. How does this happen? Played this past Sunday and couldn’t make any. Today, I couldn’t miss ……made a bunch and even came close on the chips and long putts that you don’t ever expect to make…..strange game, kissed my putter several times and decided I was taking it to bed with me tonight and continue my love affair.

Getting late so I’ll wrap this up, but still have an entry coming up in a few days on how I became a “Gentleman Farmer”.

BUCKET LIST

Watched "The Bucket List" a couple of weeks ago. The movie was blessed with two great actors, Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. They're capable of making any movie a good one. Thinking about the two of them, I don't think they even have to act, that's really who they are. The only fault I had with the movie was that it was too damn depressing. Come on, two old guys sick and dying. Really cheers up someone my age.

Everyone knows "kick the bucket" means to die, but few understand why. Where else to go but to the web for answers? I found that it is said that the phrase comes from "an old-school suicide technique." The depressed person would allegedly stand atop a bucket with his or her head in a noose, then kick away the bucket and take a one-way trip to the great beyond.

This might be the answer, but here’s another, even more gruesome, possibility. Slaughtered hogs "were traditionally hung by their heels on a high wooden block." This block was called a bucket because the ill-fated hogs were hoisted with a rope and pulley in a manner similar to how a bucket of water is pulled from a well. "Supposedly, the hogs' dying struggles as they kicked against this so-called bucket led to the birth of the idiom."

I've continued thinking about the movie's theme and decided that everyone should make their own "Bucket List". A real private list, since I have no doubt that everyone's list would include things you didn't want anyone else to see. I'm sure all of you have thought about things you would want to accomplish. We have these thoughts, but eventually forget about them or bury them in some small corner of our brain. But, if we had them on paper we might give some serious thoughts about actually trying to get them crossed off the list.

So, with that in mind, I've decided to make a bucket list of my own.......it might just be just a mental exercise, but who knows, I might just get to cross a couple off.

Ok, let's see: Visit the pyramids, shoot my age at golf (only if I live to 95), lose fifty pounds. Well that's a start. The sexual ones will have to remain on my hidden list. I bet we'll all have some of them.

The Amazing Brain

The storage capacity of the human brain continues to amaze me. More so these days as I get older because the long term memory seems to be getting stronger and stronger. Little details from the past are getting clearer and clearer. Can't remember what I had for breakfast, but fifty years ago, no problem. While on one of those long term memory trips I was reminiscing the other day about some of my past trips to Canada. I was lucky enough to have some great Canadian business friends who annually invited my brother and I to visit their facility. While visiting we were treated like kings. On one of these visits we were taken to a pretty French bistro for lunch, at least I think I could call it a bistro. On this occasion about 8 or 10 French men were enjoying lunch with us when my host, always eager to please, asked me how I was enjoying my meal, which on this occasion, was a plate of delicious frog's legs. It appeared as though everyone was waiting for my answer. Without thinking I blurted out, "I never met a Frog I didn't like". I needn't have worried about my little social disaster as those at the table roared at my fau pax. Why is this event still so clear in my mind?

For some reason, this same host seemed to always delight in watching me devour food and drink. The wine glass was never allowed to go empty as was my plate. On another occasion, at one of Montreal's finest restaurants he discovered that I loved oysters on the half shell as much as he did. That's all he needed, plates of them kept coming until the poor waiter finally came to the table holding a plate with far less than the usual dozen. He explained apologetically that this was all the kitchen had left and that these were on the house.

Why is it that we remember these things as clearly as if it were yesterday. We certainly don't remember the pains of past tooth aches that well. Conditioned I guess to block out the bad and remember the good. I remember the home runs I hit, but for the like of me I don't seem to remember the times I struck out.

It is truly amazing how much information we have at our disposal in that thing sitting on our shoulders. Watching programs like Jeopardy I will at times come up with a correct answer that I have no idea why I should know. How is it possible for us to recall things that occurred fifty and sixty years ago. Look at all the experiences we've had during those years, and yet we're able to not only remember conversations, but even create visual pictures of things that happened so long ago. What a creation the human brain is. I wonder how big a computer hard drive would have to be to hold it all.

Oops! Just forgot something..........see ya!

I'm Back

Never tried to post a picture before, thought I'd give it a try. In past Blogs I've talked about this senior activity of ours where we get a tremendous amount of exercise lifting wine bottles. These are our friends, Bill and Alecia to the right of my wife Marge displaying our future purchases. You can't believe how these winery trips have helped keep us in shape. We usually start the day with a picnic lunch, visit three wineries, sample about fifteen or sixteen wines, eat many crackers and finish off the day with a dinner at a restaurant. At times we even cracked open one of our inevitable wine purchases. One year we managed to visit fifteen different Connecticut wineries. The picture shown is from a recent winery visit in Florida. Funny, other people go to Florida to golf, sit on beaches, well I guess you know what we do. Have to get your exercise somehow.

I was quite flattered when two people this past week complained that I had not posted a Blog since April. I feel that just like an actor who has been type cast, can't Blog without a bitch, so with most everything going pretty well, I haven't had much to work with. My son, however, did come up with one that I've thought about quite a few times. In Connecticut like so many states there came a need for more area codes than just 860. So area code 203 was established, but wait, it's 203 only in certain areas. In other areas you need to dial a one before the 203. Come on, stupid or what....are you supposed to have a map out before you dial, or do you flip a coin?

Bitch number two. Do engineers or package design people ever try out their creations? Here's one that really gets me. As you have probably noticed, Heinz has come out with a super convenient squeeze bottle of hot dog relish. The only problem is that on your first attempt at getting it out of the bottle your greated with a dose of pickle water. Then if you can squeeze hard enough you'll get an explosion of relish out of the ridiculous 1/2 inch hole provided. Do you think maybe thats it's on sale for $.88. They must have a warehouse full. Squeeze mustard bottles kind of suck too. Your first squeeze will also get you a little stream of yellow water to contaminate your dog.

Well i don't want this entry to take up anymore of your valuable time or you'll stop reading them.......blog you soon.

More Observations

I think about the weirdest things as you perhaps gathered from reading some of my blogs. Thanks for being so understanding. Here’s another thought I had while having our regular Sunday restaurant breakfast. Have the rest of you noticed that when going to the container for jelly you have to search hard for a Strawberry, Marmalade, or Mixed Fruit amongst a ton of Grape. I’ve even been to places where there was nothing but Grape. Where did the restaurants get the idea that we just love grape. I don’t know, maybe they think we still love it because of those giant Welch Grape Jelly jugs our mothers used to buy (must have been the cheapest) when we were young. By the way, while pondering this I received the best cheese omelet I’ve had in years. Could not believe it, fluffy, full of cheese and even the home fries and toast were done just right. Actually couldn’t believe it. Doesn’t happen often for me. Downside is that it gave me nothing to bitch about which is very rare.

Advancing age and retirement must be taking its toll on me since my thoughts keep getting stranger by the day. Just this past Saturday during my weekly round of golf I was trying to determine if there was any advantage to being a senior citizen. Certainly wasn’t my golf game which over the years has deteriorated from a 9 to a 20 handicap. Saturday golf has turned from pleasure, to at times, severe pain. Saturday golf now has two good things about it, breakfast with my friends and Heinekens after golf surrounding the requisite 18 holes of misery. I must admit that the Lord does bless me occasionally with a couple of good shots.

I do try hard to see its advantage, but a small senior discount doesn’t make up for the aches and pains which seem to crop up on a regular basis. Seems that I find a new one daily as I crawl out of bed. Wait, I found one. Women, both young and old are easy to communicate with. I guess they now view me as harmless when approached, talked to or joked with. Doesn’t make up for all the rest though.

Well enough moaning for this entry. See you soon.

FLORIDA AGAIN

We just got back from our grueling 3400 mile trip to Florida. Getting four tickets to the Women’s Final Four in the NCAA lottery began the planning for this trip. We went with friends who unfortunately do not fly, hence the grueling description of the trip. Spent the first week in a Condo in the Orlando area and were able to spend a day at the Kennedy Space Center and a day at Epcot. Good beginning to the trip until the Uconn girl’s embarrassing loss to Stanford in the semi-final…..also poured like hell, tough with no umbrellas. It put a little damper on things, but a couple of Yuenglings helped to warm it up again.

After a little winery tasting trip and tour it was off to Saint Augustine for a few days. Very nice interesting city…..took a few tours and a stop at an interesting Alligator Farm. You’ll have to see the pictures some day. Final area visited was Savannah, Georgia which I like. Made sure we ate at Paula Deen’s, a wish our traveling companions had. Marge and I had previously eaten at Paula’s……still not terribly impressed, but popular as hell because of the TV exposure………an absolute gold mine.

Just to let you know that this trip still did nothing to turn Florida on to me, although we did go by a few “nicer” areas on our way to Saint Augustine, rural cattle country as opposed to miles of flat, straight highways clogged with cars and lined with strip malls, all with the same stores and restaurants every other city has. Again, I want to assure my friends and family that this guy will not be turning into a “Snowbird” so you don’t have to worry about visiting us. Might get me into Southwest Virginia or Northwest North Carolina, but that’s it.

Surprisingly the big Enclave gave us over 20 miles to the gallon on every tank full. Highest was 25.6 and average on others was about 22.5. Very comfortable ride, even with my passengers who have a few back problems. More importantly though, I didn’t get any speeding tickets……I must be getting old.

Florida - March 27, 2008

I just got back from a week long golf trip down in Florida, West Palm Beach area. I had visited Florida before, but that trip was primarily a business one where, except for an afternoon boat trip on the Inter Coastal Waterway, I spent my time in meetings in a hotel. That didn’t give me much time to look the area over, but this time I had the whole week to get an idea what Florida
is all about.

Now before I go any further I want to make it perfectly clear that I have nothing against old people. Being 73 years young I consider myself a member of that group. Having said that, I have to tell you that I never saw so many old, and I do mean old people in one place as I did during my week’s stay. They were everywhere, in the condos, on the golf courses, in the bars and restaurants. All sort of means of transportation, cars, mechanized wheel chairs, walkers, canes, you name it. Now as I said before, nothing against the elderly, but give me a break, let me mingle a little with some young people. Even old guys like to look at a young pretty girl once in awhile. I was really depressed and thankful that I was still mobile. One advantage for me while there, the Snow Birds drive the restaurant prices down. Some super “early birds”.

I can’t say that we didn’t have some outstanding sunshine even though I’m not an admirer of heat…..this large body (they call me “Big Guy”) doesn’t take well to hot weather. All in all I wasn’t impressed with Florida, at least in the area we were in. Flat as a pancake terrain with highways that stretch for miles without a bump or bend and lined by one after another strip malls. Boring, boring, boring. In defense of the state I guess there must be some nice areas somewhere, but in the meantime I’ll stay right here in New England.

Well, I’m going to give Florida another chance. Driving down with another couple to Orlando for a week, then to Tampa to hopefully see the Uconn girls perform in the final four of the NCAA Tournament. Next stop, Saint Augustine and then to Savannah, Georgia to sample some of Paula Deen’s cooking. I hope I can form some better opinions of Florida. Will let you know when I get back.

Chrome Domes

I go to church nearly every Sunday and consider myself a pretty religious fellow, although there are many out there that might question that fact. I will, however, admit that during that hour of Mass both my mind and eyes wander most of the time. I can’t help it, I’m a people watcher and I am not selective. I watch beautiful women, ugly people, young people, and old people. This past Sunday I spent the hour staring at bald people, all of them men. I saw naked domes that could reflect light, I saw receding hairlines, friar Tuck heads, heads with little patches, big patches, just about every exhibit of bare skin you can think of.

I switched my viewing and tried to find a bald woman. Couldn’t. I saw thin hair, overworked hair, but couldn’t find a bald women. Why are they so lucky? I never before gave it a thought, but seeing that sea of scalps I couldn’t help wondering why. I think it would be fun if we had a lot of bald women walking around. Can you just imagine it?

Well I set about that afternoon to find out why this was the case. You know you can find anything on the Internet these days. I started out by Googling “Male Pattern Baldness”. Low and behold, I got my answer right away along with a bunch of pictures showing every kind of bald heads you could imagine.

Well, it turns out that most men are genetically predisposed to male pattern baldness. It is the effect of hormones on the hair follicle that produces male pattern baldness. Testosterone, a hormone that is present in high levels in males after puberty, is converted to dihydrotestosterone (DHT) by an enzyme called 5-alpha reductase. DHT has an adverse affect on the hair follicles. Acting on a hormone receptor on the hair follicle it slows down hair production and produces weak, shorter hair, sometimes it stops hair growth from the follicle completely. This process gradually depletes your stock of hair and is normal hair loss.

Isn’t it ironic that the hormone that produces our virility and masculinity eventually turns us into a bald “Old Man”. I think I’ll get a Michael Jordon Or Shaq haircut, then no one will ever know.

Rhino's roaring again!

Does anyone else out there think that the number of commercials on television is getting ridiculous? When I can get out of my recliner, go upstairs, make a coffee, grab a snack and even take a leak and not miss any of the show I was watching, something is wrong. Are they giving away advertising time these days? With so many channels and so much air time, advertising prices must be ridiculously cheap. Are the networks using grocery chain store ploys, "Buy one get one Free"? And have you ever seen so many car ads, and drugs ads. I can't believe how many drugs there are that I have never even heard of. I firmly believe they develop the drug and then invent a disease for it.

The commercials really frost me. We pay dearly every month for cable, with prices going up on a regular basis and still have to watch so many. I think a half hour show is only about twenty minutes long. And heaven forbid that you have a sleepless night and want to occupy yourselve with a little tv watching.......hope you like thirty minute commercials ( infomercials ).

Then we have the whole High Def thing. How many people bought those beautiful flat screen sets expecting that super sharp, big picture. What a surprise, fork over a couple more sawbucks and you can have it or continue watching what you had by turning the picture into a small square. Of course you have the other option of stretching it out to fill the screen, adding about fifty pounds to the actors and knocking off a few inches off their height.

I of course could go into a little bitch about broadcasting important basketball and football games on channels only available on special expensive cable packages.

I only hope I'm not the only one that's a little p___ed at cable.

A NEW ENGLAND MORNING

Looked out the window to see how the world looks this morning. What a beautiful New England day……two or three inches of white stuff, rain coming down freezing on the trees and roads. How exciting! Now begins my serious pondering as to how the hell I’m going to get my trash barrel down my ski slope driveway for tomorrow’s collection. Amazing how we don’t think about things like driveway slopes when we’re young and looking to buy a house.

As I sat and contemplated all these important retired guys problems a serious question crossed my mind. Why the hell did my grandparents settle here in New England? What was the great attraction in Bondsville, that little hamlet near Chicopee, the little Poland of Massachusetts? Did you know why so many Polish people settled in Chicopee? When they entered the country they were actually headed to Chicago, another Polish stronghold. Many of the immigrants unfortunately mispronounced Chicago and ended up in Chicopee. Didn’t they teach geography in Poland? Didn’t they know anything about places like Savannah, Charleston, or Norfolk? If they had, I might have been on the PGA Tour with all the golf I could have played……just kidding, but seriously, you have to wonder what would have been if they settled somewhere else.

Oh well, no use dreaming, time to go outside and clear some of that New England sunshine that settled in my yard.

Proxy Bitch

I had breakfast with my brother the other day. As I sat there watching him drink his diet Pepsi it occurred to me that he was getting royally screwed by ordering that soda. I should clarify this for you. While most people in the US of A drink coffee or tea with their eggs, my brother has never had his lips touched by coffee. I was almost done with my second cup of coffee, but no problem, here comes the waitress with the pot and another refill for me. It was then that I looked over and saw that his Pepsi glass was almost empty. Did the waitress offer him a free refill, hell no! Did she ask if he wanted another, even one he would pay for, hell no! It was then that it occurred to me how screwed the soda drinkers are.

Soda cost restaurants very little, a dribble of syrup and a squirt of seltzer and yet they charge what, a $1.00, $1.25, whatever. I think at today’s prices that cup of coffee probably cost them the same, but think about this. After my usual cup and three refills, now we divide the $1.25 coffee price and lo and behold, I’m having thirty cent beverage.

Since that day, I’ve been thinking about why the soda drinkers don’t get asked. It’s because the waitress will have to grab the glass, go all the way back to the service area, put some ice in the glass, pour the soda, and travel all the way back to the table. Compare this to the coffee refill procedure. Grab a pot and walk by and take care of half the restaurant in one easy trip. I really felt sorry for my brother who has often reminded me of his plight.

I call this little blog my Proxy Bitch.

January 1, 2008

Watched the “Ball” come down in Times Square to welcome the New Year for the umpteenth time. Is it my imagination or are the crowds getting bigger each year? What a mind-boggling mass of humanity. On the news yesterday I heard that the masses started arriving around 2:30. My question every year is where do they pee? Let’s see, if my math is correct that’s at least ten hours in the street. They say that Camels can hang in there for a long time, but come on, ten hours? There’s certainly no men in that crowd with enlarged prostates. Speaking from experience, two hours is about it for me.

While on the subject of the Times Square celebration I have to express my anger at the TV Networks. We stay at home old timer’s sacrifice our precious sleep time and labor to stay up to see the New Year in. We get one short glimpse of the throng and then it’s off to commercial time. After five minutes of the usually stupid commercials they finally get back to what we’ve been waiting hours for and humor us with a 1-1/2 minute view before the “Ball’s descent. You would think they would have a little mercy on this once a year event. After all they’ve had the whole year to saturate us with endless car and drug commercials. To tell the truth, without all the car commercials we probably would have to go back to radio.

By the way, I admire Dick Clark for his courage and dedication to the tradition he established, but don’t you think it’s time to pass the baton?

Well our illustrious weather forecasters did it again; they filled the grocery stores again as people loaded up the larders against that New England terror, the dreaded Nor’easter. Even my cautious wife loaded up the thermos with hot water (we don’t have gas), got out the candles, lanterns and flashlights in preparation for the worst. Let me tell you, my back is aching from clearing off that ¼” of white. I can’t think of another job where being wrong so often continues to be rewarded, well maybe politics and sports.

Looks like I’m back on the bitch wagon again. Till next time.

New Year's Resolution

December 29, 2007

I was truly amazed last week when three people told me that they missed my Blog entries and I should be doing more of them. Although I enjoy doing them, I hesitate because I never feel they are good enough to interest other people. Well, if my friends are actually reading them and miss them, then I will include writing more often as part of my New Year’s Resolutions……right next to going on another diet to lose some of the material that has surrounded my waist. These are the times that I’m jealous of those skinny people who don’t care about eating and dislike so many foods. What’s that saying, “eat to live”, as opposed to me who “lives to eat”.

Easy to say I’ll write more, but it’s really not that easy, especially when I’ve had so few things to “Bitch” about. Had a real blast writing about some bad breakfast experiences, but recently they haven’t been that bad, unless I’m just beginning to mellow……nah, not possible. It might be that I’ve transferred my restaurant bad luck. A group of us who golf together also get together every Saturday for breakfast. One of the fellows loves very well done home fries, burnt beyond recognition is how he orders them. Well naturally even when the waitress writes it up that way he’s the one that gets them uncooked, almost raw ones. And I thought I was the only one.

This same fellow usually shows up early as I do so we have an opportunity to shoot the breeze before the rest show up. I was surprised to find out that he was a “Counter” like me. I guess this needs an explanation. Here’s an example: Went to a concert that my daughter was performing in. Looked at the program and found out that the chorus had 35 members, but then proceeded to count all who were actually performing. Had to tell my daughter that 37 were on stage. I go to restaurants and count how many customers there are, church services, count the attendees. Birds at my feeder, count them. Have no idea why. It was great to meet another “Counter”. He wasn’t kidding either. Shortly after our conversation we were golfing together. Going toward the green on one of the holes he called out to me and said “34”. I didn’t react so he repeated it several times. It was then that I realized that he was telling me how many Canadian Geese were on the fairway. “Counter” status confirmed.

I will continue to look for things that might entertain all my strange friends and provide me with material to live up to my New Year’s Resolution. My best wishes to all of you for a Healthy, Happy 2008.

“Bitch” about. Had a real blast writing about some bad breakfast experiences, but recently they haven’t been that bad, unless I’m just beginning to mellow……nah, not possible. It might be that I’ve transferred my restaurant bad luck. A group of us who golf together also get together every Saturday for breakfast. One of the fellows loves very well done home fries, burnt beyond recognition is how he orders them. Well naturally even when the waitress writes it up that way he’s the one that gets to uncooked almost raw ones. And I thought I was the only one.

This same fellow usually shows up early as I do so we have an opportunity to shoot the breeze before the rest show up. I was surprised to find out that he was a “Counter” like me. I guess this needs an explanation. Here’s an example: Went to a concert that my daughter was performing in. Looked at the program and found out that the chorus had 35 members, but then proceeded to count all who were actually performing. I go to restaurants and count how many customers there are, church services, count the attendees. Birds at my feeder, count them. Have no idea why. It was great to meet another “Counter”. He wasn’t kidding either. Shortly after our conversation we were golfing together. Going toward the green on one of the holes he called out to me and said “34”. I didn’t react so he repeated it several times. It was then that I realized that he was telling me how many Canadian Geese were on the fairway. “Counter” status confirmed.

I will continue to look for things that might entertain all my strange friends and provide me with material to live up to my New Year’s Resolution. My best wishes to all of you for a Healthy, Happy 2008.

AH, THE GOLDEN YEARS

How many times, during your working years, have you thought about that wonderful upcoming time in your life when you’ll retire and begin to live the good life? Stop dreaming folks; it’s not going to be the good life you expected. Now you have all day to chase your wife around, but have forgotten why. Oh yes, now you’ve also got time to travel, but a lot of the travel is to the doctors, prostate checks, eye checks, hearing checks, heart checks, and ingrown toenail checks. In between all these is the occasional pleasure trip, tours where the young tour guides make you scramble desperately to catch up to get close enough to hear what the hell they’re talking about. Please note that old ears also don’t work as well as they used to.

Let see what other wonderful things the Golden Years bring us. Many, many night time trips to the bathroom, struggles to get up out of chairs when you’ve sat too long, and frequent heartburn and upset stomachs from years of abuse. Oh yes, and don’t forget the start of some short term memory losses.

As I’m writing this I’ve been trying to think of something positive to include in this little Golden Year observation. I finally realized that I’d forgotten just about the only plus there was when I entered those Golden seventies…………I can now hit from those “Golden” senior tees. They brought my scores back into the eighties after several years of absence.

Hurray, now it’s all worth it!

Finally an entry - August 16, 2007

When I think of Stephen King and that Harry Potter author I can’t even comprehend their writing abilities, especially King who can knock out six or seven hundred pages at the drop of a hat. I started this Blog site and was proud of the few little paragraphs I entered. Then a couple of people wrote me that they enjoyed what I did. Well that was start of my writing curse. Now I felt under the gun. If you write something, it has to be good, entertaining and funny. With that pressure my brain went dead and did not believe that anything I wrote would be worthwhile.

The first few Blogs were easy since bitching and moaning is pretty much my forte, but my subject material has been eluding me. Restaurant trips have been fairly pleasant with no major calamities. Golf game seems to have improved, many rounds in the eighties and one even par nine hole round ( can you believe it? ). Bought a new vehicle, same color Buick Enclave that Tiger shows in the commercials. I’ve also been playing Nike golf balls, do you think this had something to do with the game?

One thing coming up in my life might provide me with some interesting material. Those of you who know me know my penchant for Polish food ( or is it the waitresses ) and the frequent visits to New Britain’s Polish restaurants. All these years talking to the girls, eating the food, created a desire to go to Poland some day to see what the country is all about. After all, I am 100% Polish…..didn’t know that hah! Well anyway Marge and I have decided to go. We’ve joined a tour group that will spend 10 days in Poland and the Czech Republic. Should at least be a few calamities to bitch about.

Point to ponder:

1. Ever notice that the service in restaurants stinks when it’s not busy. Try to get a coffee refill. No way, they’re all in the kitchen gabbing.

2. Gas prices always go down after you’ve filled up.

APRIL 10,2007 - FIASCO

Well, Friendly’s Restaurant in Southington, Connecticut made my list. What list is that you might ask? It’s my list of restaurants never to go back to again. I know, I know, I was going to stop all this bitching of mine, but last night’s fiasco cannot go unreported on this site.

My Grandson’s high school Volley Ball team was conducting a promotion at Friendly’s where for a three hour period; they would receive 10% of the restaurant’s proceeds. Well here’s how it went arrived at five minutes to five. Got my lukewarm pot of coffee, my wife’s water and our menus. I’ll be back to take your order I was told. About fifteen minutes later our very polite waiter finally returned and gave us a real sales pitch about the wonderful fried Flounder Dinner they had that evening. Golden crisply fried, flaky filets. Sounded great so we both ordered it, but asked for a substitute of mashed potatoes instead of the rice. Would you like gravy he asked…..we said NO!.. Who wants brown gravy with fish?

He left us to place the order so we chatted, watched all the booths fill up, and waited, waited and continued to wait. People who arrived ten to fifteen minutes ago were getting fed. Needless to say, my blood was starting to boil. We summoned him on one of his walk bys and asked about our dinner. Believe or not he began say that our fish takes a half hour to cook. I almost fell off my chair. Well after 45 minutes, here comes our long awaited $9.00 dollar dinner. I could not believe my eyes; our mashed potatoes were submerged in a sea of brown gravy glop. Took quite some time to convince him that I was not going to eat them, so he decided to let us begin eating and he would bring us a side of plain mashed potatoes.

What other choice did we have at that time, so we began eating something I’ve never had before, flounder that was so over done that I actually had to chew it. That along with cold coffee, cool vegetables began to be the worst meal I ever had. He brought out the only palatable item, our warm, plain mashed potatoes. I’m sure by this time he was afraid to come near me because we only saw him again when he dropped off our bill. And guess what? Even that was not correct; he gave us someone else’s bill for around $32.00. That was the topper…….do you think I left him a tip? Goodbye Friendly’s and my good friend Joshua ( our waiter ).

February 28, 2007

As all of you my avid readers (….lol ), might have noticed, there has been a noticeable absence of entries in this Blog site of mine. Started this back last October and used it as a means to get my gripes out about a bunch of things that I found annoying. Felt good and I was happy to find out how many of you agreed with me. Lately though, I can’t seem to get myself to put anything on the screen. I can’t call it writers block since I certainly don’t fancy myself as a writer. It’s weird. I keep putting “Do Blog Entry” on my calendar and to-do sheet, but keep having to transfer it to the next day. Well, today I finally got up the energy to get it started. Maybe it’s because today is my 72^nd Birthday and I don’t want to run out of time.

I’m not quite sure what approach I want to take with future entries, bitch or not to bitch, that is the question. There are certainly many more on my complaint list, but I’m not sure this is what will tempt you to continue reading my stuff. Therefore, I will only provide you with two little sarcastic questions to end this short blog entry. I promise you that all the next ones will ooze optimism.

First question: Are they selling TV advertising time at bargain rates? Are the breaks getting longer and longer or is my memory just failing me? I’m able to go pee, peel and slice up an apple, salt it and even come back and watch a little Public TV before the damn program returns.

Second question: Have computers been given the power to think for themselves? I firmly believe they are getting to be a little like the “Hal” on 2001 space odyssey. They can change things, break things and do all sorts of things without me doing anything. And don’t tell me I must be doing something to cause it, I’m not that smart.

So long for now, see you in a couple of days.

2006 IS DEAD!

I’m writing this at the crack of 2007. Not quite at the crack of since it’s already twelve hours into the new year, but it sounded good to me as I prepared to say so long to last year. 2006, although not what you would call super eventful it did prove to be a pretty good one. No great trips this year except perhaps Myrtle Beach last March when I took everyone’s money. Ate too much toward the end of the year and put back some of the weight I had lost trying to get in shape. Quality of the golf game continued its downslide except for a late season comeback. Did get hit in the head with a golf ball….line drive shot out of a practice bunker by my playing partner. Bled bad, but thank God no stitches required.

Went fishing again in Maryland, again caught s..t, but had a nice time. Most of the good time in Maryland was spent drinking Pennsylavania’s Yuengling Beer. Great stuff. Also got a chance to see Annapolis and ate the hell out of plates of Oysters. So good, I even took Oyster pictures.

Also had a nice time visiting fourteen Connecticut wineries. Lots of wine tastings, picnic lunches and fodder for the wine cooler our kids bought us. Connecticut wineries have what they call a Passport Program. You take your passport to the winery you visit and get it stamped. If you visit the required number of wineries you enter your completed Passport in a drawing to win of three great trips to Germany, California, and Canada. Needless to say, we didn’t win, but it was a nice way to spend our days traveling Connecticut.

Looking back, I think that the best part of the year was that I stayed pretty damn healthy for an old fart over seventy. Hope I have this kind of luck in 2007.

You’ll notice that there were no bitches in this Blog. I thought I’d bring you a whole new batch in 2007. Till then!