Attention American Greeting Card Company: How much bar code do you need?
mental health
Love Me, Love My Dog
Three Beautiful Things:
- Yoga to stretch out the kinks.
- Intense Vitamin D
- The first “chink” of the baseball bat
Oh yes friends, I heard it! According to the sounds in the ‘hood high-school baseball practice has started. The first hit is the sweetest. Next, we wait for The National Anthem.
Yesterday, at the undercover assignment, I ran into a familiar face: a health care professional who moonlights as a bartender at the ball park. We look forward to doing some business in a few short weeks.
Another familiar face was D, he’s an active attractive senior 70+. Champion bridge player, gets up at 5 AM to exercise, goes home and hot tubs with his HOT wife (they met on the internet), outdoors man, retired air traffic controller with a military background. And he sleeps with a poodle! He (me) thinks they are the smartest dogs EVER!
D had a lot of fun with his internet dating experience, and he said that he met a lot of beautiful women and some….not so much. He was pretty open with his parameters and would travel to meet his dates and arrive with a rose and his poodle.
Evidently age was a factor with some of the women. But one lady and he really hit off, she was a successful business woman from out of state and the relationship was progressing nicely. She approached him about spending a couple of weeks together at her place…He was game. Until she dropped the bomb.
The dog is not welcome.
Deal breaker for D.
See ya!
When Worlds Collide
After my strange appointment Friday, I was en route to ship my grandmother’s urn, I decided to add another element of surprise to the day.
After my grandparents divorced, my grandfather married a lady who I still consider to be my grandmother. I learned a lot from her, she was a talented in the garden, and was able to earn from her home with her mad skillz on the sewing machine. She tried hard to teach our family about Jesus.
Somehow, after grandfather died we kind of lost touch. It just happened. And before you know it several years have passed.
She’s been on my mind lately and several months ago I heard from a little bird that she was in a nursing home, which I was fast approaching in the Grey Goose.
I decided to go for it, even though I wasn’t sure if she was there. Turns out she was, had just moved in…So, my informant had the information wrong several months ago, but it all worked out in the end.
The staff sent me on a wild goose chase to find her, but after knocking on several doors, I found her. It took a minute for her to recognize me.
And we had a nice visit. At first.
She’s adapting to her new surroundings and says she likes it better than the other place she was at. “What was the problem?” I asked. “Oh, I don’t know. They weren’t Christians.” she replied.
Hmmm.
She went on to update me on one of her grandaughters, so strong and beautiful. A great athlete. Basketball, is her sport and went on to tell me how easily the girl could defeat the “ni**ers” on the opposing team.
My skin started to crawl.
The topic turned to the state of the world today. I tried to lighten it up. But she pushed on to Armageddon. And she wasn’t talking about last year’s World Wrestling Event.
Life had been cruel she said. Many of the residents there had been “dumped” there by their kids. Her church didn’t even miss her after 40 years of attendance. And it went on.
I couldn’t turn it, and started to leave. At the door, I hugged her and told her I loved her. “Why do you love me?” she asked. ” I learned a lot from you, ” I answered, “you introduced me to Jesus.”
“Well, that’s worth knowing. Come back anytime.” And she closed the door.
Manipulation
Sunday’s 60 minute episode featuring the story of FBI agent George Piro and the interrogation of Saddam Hussein fascinated my simple mind.
First let’s talk about Agent Piro. Handsome, Lebanese, scary mind control and fluent in Arabic.
The subject of weapons of mass destruction was the most important mystery Piro was trying to answer. It would take him five months to bring up the question.
Piro says no coercive interrogation techniques, like sleep deprivation, heat, cold, loud noises, or water boarding were ever used. “It’s against FBI policy, first. And wouldn’t have really benefited us with someone like Saddam,” Piro says.
So how did the FBI get there?
Through the garden of course. You must be patient.
“We had the guards remove their watches. And the only person that was wearing a watch was me. And it was very evident to him, ’cause I was wearing the largest wristwatch you could imagine. And it was just the act of him asking for the time — was critical in our plan,” Piro says.
Controlling time itself.
In addition to cookies on Saddam’s birthday, Piro’s mother supplied another gift unwittingly: flower seeds. Saddam was given a small plot behind a high fence where he gardened with his bare hands because he couldn’t have tools. Piro and Saddam took walks in the tiny garden and what flowed was a series of revelations. Poetry opened the door for discussions on WMD.
What was Saddam’s opinion of Osama Bin Laden?
“He considered him to be a fanatic. And as such was very wary of him. He told me, ‘You can’t really trust fanatics,’” Piro says.
Jesus Take The Wheel
So yesterday was a little slick, a thin glaze that made the morning commute a little dicey. The Grey Goose handled beautifully through the red light as I narrowly avoided a cargo van turning left in front of me, as well as oncoming traffic.
After a “Holy Sh*t!”, we prayed for divine intervention and skated right through it!
Lawsey!
Meanwhile in the garden, we’re in full blown hibernation mode. And getting a little fluffy at that.
On the mean streets, the kids are Burning Down the House:
Pulled into the drive and heard breaking glass, turned to see flames shooting out the window. This building has been vacant and we’ve had trouble keeping the kids out.
I’ve known several boys that have burned down the house, barn, or set a field on fire. Accidentally. Oops! Grown men too.
In fact, I’ve suggested that we start start our own “Burning Man” festival. Food, family, and a controlled burn. We have a retired firefighter captain and trained health professionals in the family ready to assist.
This idea came to me after spending a summer growing my eyebrows out after a flame- out in my backyard.
Uncles and Dad have both been to the emergency room with burn injuries. Uncle got a lesson in the explosive qualities of gasoline, while burning a brush pile. Dad, injured on the job when a burning ember fell down his boot and fried the top of his foot.
One of the best parties of my youth, involved setting a sofa on fire. That’s when I realized the toxicity of vinyl furniture.
Good Times.
Later, me and my posse slipped out the back door when we spotted an old high school alumni turned undercover cop in the mix.
Good party ya’ll! See ya!