another favorite

 I just watched another exciting swimming race.  Caeleb wasn't in this one.  Bobby Fink just won the men's 1500 meter free style for the US.  What made it exciting was the ending, but isn't that always the case?  In this particular race there were four swimmers and they were up and back the length of the pool many times (I lost count).  Three of the four swimmers stayed very close through the whole race, the fourth swimmer was always about a body length behind, but about half way through the final lap, Bobby, who had been in second or third place through the whole race, put on a burst of speed and was suddenly two lengths ahead of everyone else.  When he touched the wall, nobody was even close to him.  But the interesting thing to me was (and I really love the underwater shots) he didn't look like he was trying harder, he just suddenly was swimming faster.  I don't know how he did it but it was very impressive.  As I mentioned, I love the underwater shots.  I think it's interesting how far they all swim under water before they surface and take their first breath.  That's my kind of swimming.  I know how to kick and how to use my arms but I never could learn to take breaths while I swim.  Needless to say, this limits the size pool I can swim across.  Had I just been able to master that last skill, I could probably have been a contender.  

a new favorite

 I have a new favorite American Olympic athlete.  Of course this tends to change with whatever event I'm watching, but right now I'm a big fan of swimmer Caeleb Dressel.  Not only is he super fast, proved by the gold medals he's amassing, but he also has an excellent series of tattoos all up his left arm and shoulder.  I heard him explain that the three tattoos that make up the total picture are animals that are native to Florida, his home state.  That's nice and show's loyalty to his home state, but that's not what sealed the deal for me.  In an interview on one of the news shows earlier this evening he said that, if he feels he has earned it, when the Olympics are over, he's going to buy himself the Lego Millennium Falcon model which has about 1300 pieces.  If you knew how important Legos and all things Star Wars are in my family you would understand my enthusiasm for this obviously well-rounded athlete.  

another question and a decision

 Who ever decided that all of the flips, jumps, splits and spins that Olympic female gymnasts do on their floor exercises (which I really like) would be even better if they did them while balanced on a six inch wide beam five or so feet off the ground? Talk about a formula for 'slip and fall.'  You don't see figure skaters twirling on an icy beam.  Many years ago I heard Mary Lou Retton, who was a great gymnast in her day, give a motivational speech on fighting through the pain.  She gave graphic explanations of some of the wrist, ankle knee and other pains she was feeling as she did her routines and I find myself wondering how many Olympic athletes are competing in pain? Not just gymnasts.  Just about any track and field event has the same possibility for impact pain.  So I have decided that the swimming races are my favorite events to watch.  I think those swimmers are much less likely to do damage to their joints, unless, of course, they bang their head against the pool wall at the end of a lap.  I haven't seen anyone do that yet though.  I'm reserving my opinion on the synchronized diving, or any diving for that matter.  There's always the chance, when they go into a somersault right off the diving board, that they will smack the back of their heads on the diving board on their way down.  Ok, now that I've given you all kinds of things to worry about, I'm turning off the TV.  Enough Olympics for tonight.  

Questions???

 I have a few unrelated questions today like why do the male gymnasts get to wear long pants?  When does someone decide they want to be half of a synchronized diving team?  Is it like gymnastics where they start very young?  Hard to imagine.  But those aren't my most pressing question today.  This has nothing to do with the Olympics.  I've always wondered why people would send someone pictures of their nude body parts via any social media platform and then seem so surprised when they are suddenly exposed (pun intended) to the world.  This isn't quite like that, but I was amused today by the father who went on national news with his nine year old daughter by his side and announced that he planned to lie about her age so he could get a covid shot for her.  Now. believe me, I want everyone possible to get the covid vaccination.  But why would you go on national TV, with your child, and announce your plan to the world?  Don't you think someone might recognize them?

I should have guessed.

 A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the problems I was having with the remote for my bedroom TV.  Today I finally had time to take it to Best Buy for a replacement if necessary.  A very nice young man looked it over, did the trick with his phone camera and showed me that the remote was working just fine.  I explained that I knew the TV was working, I could turn it on manually, but couldn't when I tried to use the remote.  He theorized that the sensor on the TV wasn't responding, showed me on one of their models where the sensor is located, and suggested that I unplug the set, give it a few minutes to do whatever magical things it would do internally, then plug it in and try again to turn it on with the remote.  Does this sound familiar to you?  On one of my jobs whenever I had computer difficulties our tech would suggest that I turn it off, then turn it on again.  It almost always worked.  And guess what?  It worked on the TV too.  So now I can once again watch the morning news before I get out of bed.  This is good, because if the news is something I really don't want to think about, I can turn off the TV, pull the covers up over my head, and hide from the world, at least for a little while.

I have the answer

 After reading yesterday's blog, my west coast brother informed me that I can buy an antigravity pill.  Available on Amazon for $250,000 but they only last for a minute and a half.  Somehow I think that's not the actual reason the Olympic gymnasts excel, but it certainly looks like they're flying.  But speaking of anti-gravity, if you had the price of a space flight on the new commercial 'space ships' would you go?  My answer is a resounding YES!  I was inspired by the 81 year old lady who went up a couple of weeks ago.  If she can do it, so can I.  There is a problem though.  Before I consider going, I have to have the price of two tickets.  My son has been dreaming about going into space ever since he attended Space Camp (just a few years ago). He would never forgive me if I went without him. But really, wouldn't a shared space flight be a great bonding experience? Perhaps I should start a go-fund-me page? 

I think I've figured it out.

 So here I am, sitting in my recliner, eating a bowl of ice cream slathered in chocolate syrup (in honor of National Hot Fudge Sundae Day) and watching the women competing in the Olympic gymnastic competition.  When I tuned in they were taking turns on the vault, and really, it looks pretty simple.  All you have to do is run really fast, spring into the air, flip over and do a hand stand on a little padded table, use your arms to push off from there, flip around a few times in mid-air, while keeping your legs perfectly aligned, and land standing on your feet, ideally with no extra steps.  Simple, right?  Then on to the uneven parallel bars. Evidently Simone doesn't like these.  I don't know why.  It's all pretty straight forward.  Just a little run and jump, grab the lower of the two bars with both hands and then just flip your self up and over, and over and over, while jumping with your hands from one bar to the other and back and forth, 'til you finally end up standing on your hands on the high bar, push off from there, curl into a ball, roll over in the air a few times unfold and, you guessed it, land steadily on both feet.  I think I know how they do it.  I just wish I knew where to buy those anti-gravity pills.  

Dinner Party

 I like hosting parties. Over the years my husband and I had several parties for Halloween, New Years, and more.  I even hosted my own 70th birthday party.  The date was 12-13-14 and I thought that was worth celebrating.  This evening I had a dinner party for my go-with guy and a couple we're friends with.  So only four people, easy peasy.  It was my turn.  This couple had had us to their house and GWG had hosted a picnic for all of us at his place.  All before the pandemic. The only problem this time was that I had several weeks notice and this was the first time they would have seen my apartment.  I might mention here that a sad side effect of cataract surgery is that you can see dirt.  I was motivated to clean.  Sort of spring house cleaning in July.  And I cleaned!  I even cleaned the drip pans on my stove.  Not a pretty job.  Did they notice? Probably not.  We did have a good time. They liked the food (a cold summer supper) if second and third helpings were any indication.  Then we sat on the balcony, and watched the sun set slowly behind the clouds.  Quite a pretty show and quiet entertainment.  They are easy conversationalists which is always a pleasure.  Will I do it again?  Of course.  But give me a while to catch my breath.  

Hooray!

 The Olympics are starting and I'm excited.  I'm watching the parade of nations right now and it's fun to see the beautiful costumes of some of the countries.  It's also fun to spot some countries I've actually visited and humbling to realize how many, many I will probably never get to see.  I like the Olympics because I don't feel guilty about not participating.  When I see someone out walking or exercising or even doing goat yoga, I think "I really ought to be doing that."  Well maybe not the goat part, but Olympians' performances are so far beyond what I could ever reasonably have been able to do, I can just relax and enjoy their prowess.  When I try to imagine competing, I remember my college swimming class, one of a required series of physical education classes we education majors were expected to take.  Why I needed to be able to swim to be and art teacher I will never understand.  To pass the swimming class we had to swim the length of the pool six times (up and back using three different strokes).  Then we had to dive off the low board and swim to the side of the pool.  I actually did manage to pass the class but I'm really glad that people weren't recording my performance.  Happily, smart phones hadn't been invented yet.  Suffice it to say, no one was waiting at the side of the pool to sign me up for Olympic trials. 

Another Great Day

 Today is Spoonerism Day, or Doonerism Spay if you prefer, named after Rev. W. A. Spooner, 1844-1930, who evidently had a habit of flipping the beginning sounds of words.  I decided to play with this using commercials I saw on TV this evening.  How about some Bunny Hunches of Boats? Japa Pons? Quarry Dean? Late Grolf Wodge? Dimmy Jean? Fate Starm? You get the idea. But back to Rev. Spooner.  His speech predicament reminded me of a speech problem a pastor at the church of my youth had.  The benediction at the end of every service included the phrase "may the peace that passeth understanding..."  He just couldn't say 'passeth,' at least not every time.  It was just as likely to come out 'pathess.'  I don't know why he just didn't say 'passes' which would have been much easier.  But that was probably much too modern for the MSL church in 1958. 

I win!

 Well actually, I didn't win anything, but I did know the answer to the final Jeopardy question this evening.  I don't remember the exact question, something about an African emperor in the 1970s, and the only African emperor I could think of was Haile Selassie, and guess what, that was the right answer.  Sadly, I live alone so know one heard me shout it out.  You'll just have to take my word for it.  Jeopardy is an interesting game show.  I usually come away from each episode feeling humbled by how much I don't know, but every once in a while I get an answer right.  Always a great feeling.  Happily, thanks to access to multiple TV channels, if I get too frustrated, or start to feel too humiliated, I can switch over to Family Feud, always good for a relatively mindless laugh.  

Happy Birthday!

 Today is my baby brother's (aka my west coast brother's) birthday.  We will not dwell on how old he is, since he will always be 10 years younger than me.  Coincidentally, today is also Nap Day.  Our family is very fond of naps and it all started in our childhood.  My mother was 45 when my baby brother was born; she thought she was going through menopause, surprise!  My mother was a teacher and liked to keep my two year younger brother and myself on a schedule during summer vacation.  It really worked pretty well - weed the garden or other outside work in "the cool of the morning," a mid-morning snack (remind me to tell you about the sugar glazed donuts sometime). Some morning TV, usually Captain Kangaroo for my baby brother, lunch, time to play with the neighbors, outside of course, and always, right after lunch, a half-hour nap.  Actually we were told that this was for my baby brother who still needed a nap.  All we had to do was stay quietly in our bedrooms, reading or resting for 30 minutes.  I loved it and still try for a short nap after lunch when I'm at home.  It wasn't until I was a mother myself that I understood that our naps weren't just for us.  Clever mother!

Flitch?

 Today is National Flitch Day.  Not filch or flinch or fletch, it's Flitch Day.  This information was supplied by my west coast brother, no surprise there.  Do you know what a flitch is?  Well, neither did I so I asked my brother.  He informed me that a flitch is a side of bacon.  He also challenged me to look up the Flitch Trials of Great Dunmow.  These Flitch Trials have been going on every four years since the time of Chaucer, in, you guessed it, the city of Great Dunmow in Essex, England.  When I learned what flitch is and then learned that there are flitch trials, especially trials dating from Medieval times, I envisioned something like burley, scantily clad men (it's more fun if they're scantily clad) slapping each other with bacon strips (whole sides of bacon seems too brutal), but that's not it at all.  To win the flitch, a married couple has to convince a panel of 12 judges (six bachelors and six maidens) that they have not ever wished themselves unmarried during the past twelve months and a day.  Not once in 12 months?  Sounds like a challenge to me.  

 

carry in

 Some friends and I enjoyed a carry-in supper this evening.  It was a light supper with cheese and crackers, salmon spread, fresh fruit, nuts, and other snacky things topped off with a lovely, yummy pie.  It wasn't exactly a cheese cake, too light and fluffy, but the filling was a delicious blend of cream cheese, sour cream and cool whip topped off with fruit.  This supper reminded me of the great American church tradition of carry-in suppers (or dinners, depending on where you're from).  These suppers, also known as pot-luck dinners, are a wonderful gathering of church members and friends with everyone bringing something to share.  The church I go to now is rather large with a cook on staff so when we do church dinners it's often just her cooking, which is very good, but sometimes I miss the variety at church suppers in smaller churches.  A side note here, when the Korean ladies in our church cook it is amazing.  When they have their eggroll sales they sell out fast.  But back to pot-luck suppers.  When my husband and I and our children lived in south-east Ohio for four years we attended a small (sixty member) country church which hosted the best carry-in suppers I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying.  It might have been because we all knew each other and no one wanted to be outdone.  Whatever, those carry-in suppers were so popular that they occasionally became a money maker.  Specifically on election days.  Our  little church was a voting place and on election days we served home-made food at a reasonable cost all day long.  That election day dinner had been a tradition for many years and was extremely popular.  It was a delicious and very effective way to get the voters to the polls. Hummmm...

decisions, decisions

 There's a silly game that people play sometimes called "would you rather?"  It's usually a choice between two horrible options like "Would you rather be eaten by a shark or trampled by an elephant?" or "Would you rather eat chocolate covered cicadas or Guinea pig?"  You get the idea.  This evening I was watching the news and they were reporting on the heat and fires in California and other western states, and the massive flooding in Germany and other parts of Europe.  Too bad they couldn't send some of that European water to our west coast.  Happily I've never been faced with such devastation but I got to thinking.  Assuming no one was injured or killed, would I rather have my home subjected to a flood or fire?  Believe me, I'm not making light of this. Either one would be terrible.  But all things being equal, I think I would rather have my home destroyed by fire.  In that situation everything would be gone and you would have to totally rebuild.  On the other hand, if you were flooded out, your house might not be totally destroyed but what a mess.  All that mud and muck to clean out, and then there's the possibility of mold.  When I was selling real estate I was asked by a bank to do a market analysis on a house that had stood empty for two years.  When I walked in I couldn't breathe.  Even though there was no horrible smell, it was as if my body was telling me to get out of there fast, so I did, then contacted the bank and told them we needed to have a mold analysis.  It turned out that moisture had gotten into the house and every wall had mold in it.  They ended up demolishing the house.  Now that I think about it, I don't want fire, I really don't want flood, and I really, really don't want this 14 story apartment building I'm living in to collapse.  Happily, I don't think I'll be faced with any of these problems any time soon.

The good old ways?

 Today I was watching an old Perry Mason rerun (I admit it's one of my secret vices) and one scene showed an old style round corners TV set that looked very much like the first television my family had.  My father refused to buy a TV until we could access at least three stations so I was in sixth grade before we had one.  It was a Zenith 13 inch black and white (of course) with a good picture and a very easy to use 'on off' knob.  The reason I'm remembering that feature most particularly is that last night when I clicked the remote for my bedroom TV, yes the same one with the new batteries, nothing happened.  I pressed the on button again and again and again and still nothing happened.  Then I decided it was time for bed anyway and went to sleep.  This morning, when I really wanted to watch some local news while I was still in bed, I discovered that the remote still wasn't working.  I don't know why I thought it might have fixed itself over night but, you know, hope springs eternal.  Finally I decided I should try to turn on the TV with the on/off switch on the actual unit.  I mean, there has to be one, right?  Well there is, and after a while I found it, a tiny little button on the back along the right edge.  Wouldn't you think it would at least be on the front?  The TV came right on so now I'm stuck wondering again what's wrong with the remote.  I may have to buy a universal remote which might be ok.  I've always thought I would like to control the universe. 

reaching here

 I am scraping the bottom of the proverbial barrel today.  Sometimes it is hard to think of something to write about.  Today, for example, is Gummi Worm Day and Orange Chicken Day.  I mean really, what can you do with that.  Given a choice, I would rather eat orange chicken (the Chinese dish) than gummi worms.  I am not a fan of anything that might slither down my throat.  A few weeks ago a news caster ate a chocolate covered cicada on TV.  She said it was crunchy and good.  I was not inspired to try it.  And speaking of cicadas, where are those 17 year cicadas everyone was talking about a month or so back?  I haven't even heard an ordinary cicada.  Usually by this time each summer, they are creating a cacophony of noise along the river, and when the frogs chime in it's quite a concert.  I'm still waiting...

Lake Shark

 Today is Shark Awareness Day and I don't mind being aware of sharks, from a safe distance, with them in the water and me in a boat.  You can add swimming with sharks to my list of things I never, ever want to do.  I did have a close encounter with a shark once many years ago and I lived to tell about it, so I will.  We were living in Ohio at the time, and friends from Fort Wayne had come for a summer visit.  They had two sons ages 7 and 9, and we had a son and daughter, ages 9 and 7.  We decided one hot day to take them to a nearby lake to swim and picnic.  Before we left for the lake, their youngest wondered out loud if there were sharks in the lake.  He was a good swimmer but used to swimming in a pool.  We all assured him that there are no sharks in Ohio lakes, or any lakes for that matter, and he seemed satisfied.  As soon as we got to the lake the four children ran for the water and waded in.  We parents watched from the beach.  We were responsible parents, after all.  Suddenly we heard loud shouts (more gleeful than panicked) and all four of them came running to us to show us, you guessed it, a gray shark that they had plucked out of the water.  No idea who had left it behind, but that foot long plastic shark proved once and for all that parents are not always right.  Too bad, I had hoped to fool them for at least a few more years.

positive thinking

 From time to time I have published lists of things I will never ever do like bungie jumping and sky diving, but after watching America's Got Talent this evening I am faced with a totally different list of things I can't do vs things I don't want to do.  All my life I've been told to think positively and I can accomplish great things but the performers on AGT reinforce my positive assurance that there are some things I can not and was never meant to be able to do.  I mean I have always known that I can't sing or play a musical instrument.  If I wake up one day and can carry a tune I'll know I've died and gone to heaven.  But here are some new things to add to my 'can't do' list.  I cannot contort my body into pretzel shapes while swinging from a ring suspended high above the stage.  I cannot do amazing gymnastic flips while wearing five inch heels.  Truthfully, I can't even walk wearing five inch heels.  I cannot create the illusion of reading someone's mind or really read someone's mind.  I cannot play the drums while dressed like a chicken (but I really don't care about that one).  Actually I probably could do that act as well as the chicken man did.  How's that for thinking positively?

follow up

 My ever concerned west coast brother, after reading yesterday's blog has sent me a helpful tip which I will share with you here, just in case you don't already know it.  If you want a simple way to see if your remote control is working, turn on the camera on your phone and aim the remote into the lens.  When you press a button on the remote you should see a purple flashing from the LED.  No flash equals dead battery.  I tried it and I did see a flash of purple.  I also accidentally turned off my TV, but that was easily remedied since the remote was working.  On a lighter note, here's a riddle from today's exercise class.  What's easy to get into but hard to get out of?  My guess was my recliner but that wasn't right.  

Push it again Sam...

 How many times do you press the TV remote power button before you admit it's just not going to work?  This morning, for example, I pushed the remote once to turn on my bedroom TV.  I like to watch some news while I'm waking up.  Nothing.  I pushed it again harder.  Nothing.  I pushed it again and held it down longer; still nothing.  After the forth try I began to think something might be wrong.  A few weeks ago, I began to get very frustrated when I couldn't turn on my living room TV until I realized that I was trying to turn it on with the kitchen TV remote, but I realized that couldn't be the problem this time.  It occurs to me, as I write this, that I could solve some of my frustration by getting rid of two of my televisions but that's not going to happen.  As I sat in bed this morning contemplating the problem I almost got up to see if I could find the power button on the actual TV.  They all have them somewhere.  Before I got that desperate though, I decided to try one more thing.  I put new batteries in the remote, and yes, I did have to walk all the way into the living room to find the right size batteries in my desk drawer (I always have plenty of batteries).  So, back in bed, with brand new batteries installed, I pushed the button one more time and, drum roll please, the TV came right on.  I love it when a logical solution works.  

Clerihew Day

 A wannabe poet named Luci

Was contentedly eating some sushi, 

When a challenge was raised

but she wasn't phased.  

My west coast brother, who else, informed me that today is Clerihew Day.  Naturally, having absolutely no idea what a Clerihew is, I Googled it.  It seems that a Clerihew is a poetry form created by Edmund Clerihew Bentley.  I don't know why it's not called a Bentley.  It's supposed to be a humorous poem about a person in four lines with an AA BB rhyme scheme.  The above was my first feeble attempt.  It seems to me that my poem needs a fifth line.  Something like "She wrote on while the sushi got mushie." But the problem is then it becomes a limerick.  Ah well, Edmund will never know.

Mr. Edmund C. Bentley

had a poetic bent, evidently.

Sadly his lines stopped at four.

He should have written one more.

career choices

 A few weeks ago a friend and I were talking about the limited career choices we were presented with when we were in high school. We went to a small school (52 in our graduating class) and I don't think we had a guidance counselor.  Next year we will gather for our 60th reunion.  Many of us (I'm talking about the women in the class but the men's choices were also pretty limited) did move on to other careers but back in the day the choices we were presented with were teacher (or related fields like librarian), nurse, or secretary.  Or mom, of course.  This evening one of our local TV stations was running a tribute to recent high school graduates and some of the listings showed the graduates' future plans.  Things like criminology, pre-law, all kinds of engineering, and, yes, a couple of nurses and teachers.  In my own family I have a granddaughter studying international business, and another who will be entering a design school in the fall.  She is leaning toward clothing design, but she has so many options there.  I'm excited by the fact that young people now have so many career choices.  Another friend, in another conversation, asked me, if I had realized the other career choices out there, what would I have wanted to be.  And without any thought at all, the answer came to me.  I would have liked to be an archaeologist.  My father spent his entire working life as a carpenter.  He was a voracious reader and smart, but quit school at 16 to go to work with his father.  They built many of the barns around Woodburn.  When he was in his 80s I asked him if he had had other choices what he might have wanted to be.  I thought he might say that he wished he could have gone to college and maybe be a teacher but his answer?  He said "I always thought I would like to be a plumber."   

eureka!

 

I have just figured out how to copy a picture from my phone to my laptop to this blog.  I'm not sure if I did it 'right' but at least I did it. I'm not sure why I ended up with two copies but two is better than none, right?  I wanted to share this picture because of the reactions I received when I texted it to my brother and son yesterday.  It mysteriously appeared across the river from my apartment two mornings ago.  It must have gone up over night because it wasn't there the day before.  My west coast brother's reaction was that it was obviously an alien spacecraft while my son theorized that it is most likely a fungus that grows in very hot humid weather.  All of this leads to the fact that today is SCUD Day.  Savor the Comic, Unplug the Drama Day.  I think you must agree that my family does a good job of savoring the comic.  

a deep mystery

 Have you heard it?  Neither have I.  Have you felt it?  Neither have I.  Have you seen it?  Neither have I, but for many months now MamaJo has been working away, 24 hours a day, and today her work is done.  MamaJo, the huge drill that has been working beneath our city has finished a tunnel that runs almost five miles from the north east area of the city to the south west.  Digging her way in places from 100 to 220 feet deep, she has moved 14 million tons of material to create a tunnel that will help carry away millions of gallons of sewer water and prevent it from flowing into the rivers.  Even though MamaJo's job is done, sewage won't actually flow through that big tunnel until lesser sewer lines can be connected to it.  The estimate that I heard is that the whole system will be fully functioning in 2023.  You may be wondering why I'm bothering to write about this.  Well, I've been intrigued by this whole idea since the project started in 2018.  In fact, at an unexpected layover in Dallas (I don't even remember what trip I was on) I had a chance to talk with a gentleman who was waiting for the flight to Fort Wayne to work on the deep drilling project.  It sounded exciting then and I've been interested in it ever since.  Hooray for MamaJo!

virtual hugs

 Today is "Take your Webmaster to Lunch Day."  It's also "Virtually Hug your Virtual Assistant Day."  Since I don't have my own website I don't think I technically have a Webmaster.  However my children and grandchildren have all helped me with computer / cell phone / tablet related problems from time to time.  Perhaps they are my 'tech masters'  What would we do in this day and age without our speedy communication devices?  During the pandemic we have all learned to live virtually. Virtual hugs were all we had.  Perhaps if I virtually hugged my laptop more often it wouldn't pretend not to recognize me.  Virtual relationships are tricky.  

facing it

 It's kind of a sad thing when someone doesn't recognize you.  Goodness knows there have been times when I've forgotten someone's name or face and times when someone I haven't seen for a while doesn't recognize me.  In situations like that we generally smile, maybe laugh, admit we have forgotten, remind each other of the forgotten name, and get on with life.  I don't feel insulted in situations like this but I must admit I do find it off putting when my own computer doesn't recognize me.  I mean I open my laptop almost every day, turn it on, and wait while it recognizes my face and gives me a cheery little hello (in print of course).  But this evening when I turned it on it acted like it had never seen me before.  I mean, it's been a day and a half but still.  It impudently asked me for my PIN number.  What PIN number?  I have never used a PIN number to turn it on since I've had this laptop.  So now, after following lots of prompts, I have a new PIN number.  Will I remember it when I need it, maybe two years from now?  I shall write it down of course, but will I remember where I wrote it?  Time will tell I guess.

Too many fireworks???

 This evening two friends and I sat on my balcony for about three hours watching fireworks.  Lots and lots of fireworks all around the skyline.  Like me you may be wondering "Wait, what special day is this that warrants fireworks?"  Tomorrow, of course, is July 4, Independence Day and an obvious reason for fireworks, but today?  And for that matter, yesterday and the day before?  Ah, but I did a little research, with the help of my west coast brother, and discovered that today is International Cherry Pit Spitting Day.  Worthy of fireworks?  I'll leave it to you to decide.

zippy little sports cars

Today is Drive your Corvette to Work Day.  I would be delighted to drive my Corvette to work, if I had a Corvette, if I had a job, although I really do like being retired.  Once upon a time I drove my 1961 Corvair to work, before and after I rolled it over, for more than five years.  It was a fun little car (little for that time) and I did enjoy driving it, but it probably didn't compare to driving a Corvette.  The closest I've come to driving a Corvette was the summer when a friend and I took a trip out west driving her bright red 1967 Mustang.  It was a fun car to drive and could really zip along on the interstate.  That was the same car I got my first speeding ticket in, after being caught in a speed trap somewhere in Illinois on our way home from that trip.  it was also the first, and only, time that I had to appear in traffic court.  Since we were from out of state we had to go straight to court, along with about twenty other hapless drivers, and pay our fine on the spot.  It was a good thing we were on our way home because by the time we pooled all of our cash to pay the fine, $83.00, we didn't even have enough with us for gas.  The time in court did have it's humorous moment though.  The man in front of me in line tried to convince the judge that he hadn't been speeding.  Remember we had been caught in a speed trap (a police car on either side of a slight rise so the second car was out of sight).  The first policeman was using the radar gun, the second waving everyone over.  The man in front of me tried to convince the judge that he had only speeded up a little on the downhill slope.  I laughed to myself because I recognized him as the driver who had passed me on the uphill slope.  The judge did not buy his story.  I'm pretty sure he had heard that one before.

Special days

Everyone knows that July 4 is Independence Day but did you know that today, July 1, is International Joke Day.  In honor of the day I'll share a joke that I heard at a recent exercise class.  We usually get a little break about half way through the hour for a drink of water and a humorous joke or riddle.  Actually, this is a riddle, which should count, right?  There was no moon, the streetlights were out in this rough part of town, he had no flashlight, but the policeman was still able to see well enough to catch the fleeing thief.  How could he do it?   I know, it's a groaner, right?  It's not International Good Joke Day.