My Little Whoville

Christmas is my favorite holiday, so I'm going to re-overshare a few Christmas memories.  :)

Growing up, my dad put our tree up on Christmas Eve. He'd wrestle it into the stand while speaking the same strange language as the dad in "The Christmas Story." I always helped decorate the tree. After arranging ornaments, we placed tinsel on the tree one strand at a time. Our tree topper is to the right—the beard hair came from Santa himself (haircut clippings).

My dad and sisters went to Midnight Mass each year--they were in the choir. After my chores, I made macaroni bracelets (or something) for my sisters, cards for my parents, and tried to play Christmas music on my grandpa’s ancient electric organ (we had a “by the numbers” guide). A turkey was usually soaking in salt water.

Since Santa had so much ground to cover, my folks told him not to wrap our presents. He created piles--so the excitement was figuring out which pile was yours. I usually got some combination of pants, a shirt, socks or underwear—somehow Santa always knew what I needed most. And there would be THE present. One year it was a doctor's kit. One year a plastic trumpet (no parent would give a noise-maker like that to their son). In the 6th grade I received a chess set.

We visited family during the holidays, including my dad's sister. She made amazing homemade cookies. But before cookies were served, you had to sit and listen to the adults talk for what seemed like hours…often debating the shortest route to places I'd never been. Snore!

Favorite Christmas Memory:
Instead of going to midnight Mass @ 12, I stayed home with my mom. We watched "A Christmas Carol" (1938 version). She let me have eggnog and fruitcake. I like eggnog. I like fruitcake. But combined they made me sick. Despite the upset stomach, that night with my mom is one of my favorite Christmas memories.  Not too many years later I got engaged after a Midnight Mass--killing two birds with one stone.  :)

Least Favorite Christmas Memory:
Taking tinsel off the tree! My father wanted to keep the tinsel to re-use the next year. So we had to take it all off one strand at a time. The tinsel was older than I was.

Christmas as an Adult:
The tree goes up mid-month with no hassle--on the 15th this year. Santa wraps presents, even though I've asked him not to. When we get together with family I start conversations about the best way to get to a particular place…to keep the tradition alive and to annoy the kids a little. They’ve heard the story and know why I do it.

Hopefully this Christmas season will create new fond memories for my family and I hope it does the same for my friends. Whether you celebrate or not, I wish you and your loved ones the peace and joy of the season!!!

My Dad's Birthday

It was the 14th.  He passed away a few years ago...of natural causes...which sort of surprised me at the time.  Like all of us, he had flaws. But one of his best traits was speaking up when someone else was being a jerk, not standing by silently if someone was being victimized. I realized while he was in the hospital that somewhere in the back of my mind I expected that trait would lead him to a premature funeral.  Luckily it didn't. 

Today I'd like to pay tribute to that trait and also to the heroes and victims of last week's tragedies in Newtown and Chenpeng.  I hope I live long enough to see a day when humans don't do such terrible things to each other.

To lighten the mood before you go, I want to share a story about one of my dad's craftier decisions.  I posted recently about when I first got my driver's license.  Soon after that I was eager to buy a car (so I wouldn't have to walk back and forth to work). My parents agreed to put the car in their names to help lower the insurance rate, but said it would still be expensive (since I was a teenager).

Every six months my mom told me how much I owed and I forked it over. It was a lot. But again, car insurance for male teenagers is very pricey.

A few years and a few cars later I bought a "new" car and decided to register it in my own name.  I knew the insurance would be a lot higher--but it would really be mine. I went to the insurance agent's office to fill out the forms for the policy and he shocked me. He gave me a quote that was less than half of what I paid for the older car. I asked him why it was soooo much less.

The agent checked my parent's file.  It turned out I had not been paying the insurance for just my car.  I had been paying the ENTIRE bill--for my car and both of theirs!!! Later my dad explained his thinking--he said having me on their policy raised the rate on all 3 cars, so he thought it was fair for me to pay the entire bill.  I wonder if he collected the entire amount from my brothers too before they struck out on their own???  He probably made a bundle on that insurance scam.  My dad was an interesting fellow.

Life with Ricademus 1.0

My family is way too easy to entertain. 

I've been a under the weather this week--just a cold, but a weird one.  I didn't get the usual (horrible) sore throat or much congestion, but my larynx feels raw and so do I.  Anyway, it felt chilly in the house last night after work, so I covered up with a little red blanket while I was reading the newspaper in the living room.  I wanted to reed about our city's new read fire engine. (Sometimes I think English is confusing on purpose :)

The sound of the dryer buzzer told me clothes were done (I like to take them out right  away to minimize wrinkling).  When I got up to check the clothes, I didn't want to leave my blanket behind.  And I didn't want to look like Linus.  So I tried something different.

I turned the red blanket into a cape by tying two ends together and then ran through the house (to the laundry room) with my arms stretched out in front of me.  My wife and kids seemed to think that was funny, which is setting the bar too low.  I can do much better than that.  Maybe they were cutting me slack since I don't feel well.

This really wasn't much of a post...just a little piece of silliness.  I'll do better next time.  Maybe. 


PS - My wife must have really liked the cape.  She suggested I wear it to work.  :)

Camping Fun

December is a good time for a camping story, right?  Well, if it is or isn't, Rooth posted about camping today and Hawaii 5-0 had a camping theme, so I'm in the mood.

As a kid I used to camp out with other boys in the neighborhood. It was usually in a field on the other side of the train tracks, which was surrounded by woods.  My parents said no to one camp out, but later changed their minds.  I decided to surprise my friends.

They set up their tents at the cleared end of the field. I set-up my homemade tent at the other end, behind a stand of milkweeds, where they couldn't see it. Next I gathered up about 10 "gumballs" (prickly balls from sweetgum trees) and put them in a jar with just a little gasoline.

As expected, my friends eventually built a campfire. (Their dad dug a little pit and put cinder blocks around three sides of it for safety.) When I saw the fire going, I started crawling towards it through the weeds--with my little jar of surprises. I stopped just outside the ring of light. My friends were telling stories, trying to scare each other, but it wasn't working.

I pulled out the first gumball and threw it towards the fire. I missed. Someone heard it land, but the sound was dismissed. I launched the second one, but missed again. They all heard that one land and it spooked them. They were worried about what might be out there in the dark. It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud and getting caught. The third time was the charm. I threw the gumball directly into the fire pit and the flames shot up pretty high. That scared the heck out of them! All of my friends jumped up and half of them wanted to run home--one thought they were being haunted!

At that point I couldn't hold it in any more. I started laughing so hard I couldn't talk. The campers were so relieved it was me they forgot to be mad. I let them each take a turn throwing a gumball into the fire and then we got down to the serious business of camping--toasting marshmallows, talking about girls, and occasionally sharing something meaningful that we never would have talked about at home, in school or in the light of day.

It was a nice night!

Calling for Trouble

My wife called to to let me know she had errands to run this evening.  I asked if she wanted me to pick up dinner, but she wasn't ready to commit to not cooking.  We both knew she wouldn't be cooking, she just wasn't ready to admit it.  I'm not being critical, there was too much on her plate tonight for dinner to fit on there too.  :P  I'm happy to cook.  Well, happy to pick up something. 

We agreed she would call later to discuss dinner.  She didn't have my new work cell number yet (my son has my cell today), so I told her I would use it to call her (then she'd have the number).  I asked her to tell me her cell number. 

She was very offended.  ("You don't know MY number???") 

As she gave me the phone number, I repeated wrong numbers back to her (as if I'd never heard her phone number before).  She got annoyed. 

She didn't realize I was teasing her.  Even if somehow I'd forgotten her number (thanks to the joy of speed dialing), she was on her cell phone and the number was staring me in the face from caller ID. When I confessed I was teasing, she wasn't amused.  It happens (maybe 1% of the time).

Now I'm in trouble.  I guess one person's playful can be another person's aggravating. 

Assuming I'm going to make this mistake again (it's a safe bet), what would you suggest I bring home for dinner (or cook) to get myself out of trouble??? 

Bad Car Karma

Car trouble has been a major theme during 2012 for my family.  Ruth pointed out it has been a year of bad car karma.  The highlights included a rear axle snapping in half (while I was going 65 mph (105 kph); our van needing a new engine; replacing batteries (including in-laws, I replaced four this year); pushing cars; and lots of other minor issues.  We had car trouble again on Friday, but this time it was different.

When my wife tried to start her car Friday evening, the sound scared her.  She knew something was terribly wrong, but not what.  She got a ride home and later we went to check out the problem.  I could see the front of the muffler was touching the ground.  I assumed a pipe had broken.  I was wrong.  When I got on the ground to take a look, I saw the catalytic converter was gone.  Two very clean cuts on the remaining pipes made it clear it was a theft, not an accident.

We called for a tow.  Somehow the tow truck driver knew who stole the converter.  He said it was the Blacks.  I was shocked Wayne and Edna Black (they live 3 houses away) would do such a thing.  Then I realized he didn't mean the Blacks, he meant black people in general.  That was the end of our chatting--and of course I didn't tip him.

The aggravation and expense from this theft is extremely annoying.  But, as I'm sure you're thinking right now too, there really is only one thing I can do.   I have to pay for the repair -- and then take an extended leave of absence from work so I can stakeout that parking lot every.single.day until I catch the scum who did it.  It shouldn't take more than 3 or 4 months. 

Who wants to go on the stakeout with me???

LOL, I'm just kidding about the stakeout!   As much as the little vigilante in me ("Two go out, one comes back") wants to find justice, there's no point in going out looking for trouble.  It's better to just always remember to be a good neighbor and a good citizen when you happen to stumble across trouble.  Do what you can without putting yourself in harm's way, which for most of us is calling the police.


PS - What a weird ending for a post about car trouble!!!  :)

Correctness Extreme?

I've been working on performance appraisals this week and discovered something amusing about our new appraisal system.  When you're done, the system runs a spell check.  I appreciate that--my brain and fingers get out of sync at times (often).  Next, the system runs a "language check".  That identifies words that could be considered offensive.

The system flagged words like "short", and "old", and "broad" and asked me to change them.

Are there really managers out there who would use those words in an insulting way in an official performance apparaisal???   Maybe something along the lines of, "The old, short broad still does great work"???  LOL! 

I just can't imagine that.  But then again, many, many things happen in the world that I don't understand.  So I really shouldn't be surprised about a language safeguard being built into an appraisal system. 

My dad probably wouldn't have been able to complete an appraisal using this system.  His name sounded like "Rick," but started with a different letter.  :)


PS - Just for the record, I used those words as follows:  "short-staffed"; "old weapons"; and "broad range of duties".  Nothing offensive. 

Holiday Strategery (Family)

You probably shouldn't read this post if you've just eaten.  Or if you're about to eat.  Maybe you just shouldn't read it at all. 

I'm in a little hot water at home because of something I included in grace before dinner last Thursday.  Everyone else passed on the chance to say grace, so they have to live with the consequences of letting me step up to the plate (a baseball-related pun).  My wife's sisters usually join us for Thanksgiving, but have missed the past two years.  My side of the family used to gather for Christmas, but haven't for several years.  So at the end of grace I simply mentioned reconnecting with family on future holidays. 

For good reasons, my kids were...not quite appalled...what's a good word for not thrilled?  Anyway, I think you get the picture.  Without going into too many details, it's hard to imagine someone choosing to hang out with either side of our family.  But they're family.  And I have strategies for dealing with both sides.  Since I've shared plenty about my family over the years, I'm going to explain why my kids aren't eager to have my wife's sisters join us for a meal.  It's not so much their personalities as it is their gross habits (although personalities play a part too, lol).  Let me introduce you (w/a few details).

The Re-arranger:  She's the eldest sister, has a good heart, but gets carried away at times (pushy).  You have to be forceful to keep her from going on a steam-roll.  She's ruined more than one of my wife's birthdays (that's MY job).  She enjoys decorating.  And she enjoys rearranging chips.  If there's a bowl or plate of chips or crackers, you can bet she's touched them all in search of the next one she's going to eat.  It's funny to watch her.  The worst part is she'll pick her teeth, then start touching chips in the bowl again.  Double gross.  To avoid that, I have a special, individual serving dish just for her. (She's easily the nicest of the 3--you can communicate with her.)

The Pack Leader:  The youngest of the four.  She has eight dogs and they do as they please.  She never washes her hands.  Ever (and she thinks Canada is a state).  One Thanksgiving she brought a dog with her.  The little guy had surgery on his leg and couldn't be left alone (with the wild dogs).  He had a potty accident on the floor, which she cleaned up with a single-ply paper towel.  Then she immediately grabbed a pan of baked dinner rolls and started placing them (by hand) into a basket.  I quickly snatched 4 before she got her hands on them.  I was honest when she asked why I did it--and she was offended.  I've kept that from happening again by striking up conversations with her just as food is about to be served (and by being in a position to hand her a plate, not vice versa).

The Brain Tickler:  A middle child.  She has no interest in cooking (or cleaning--anything, ever), so I don't have to keep her out of the kitchen at parties.  I've never seen her touching food she wasn't going to eat.  But there's the brain tickling (and the complete inability to listen to what others say and, seemingly, what she says herself).  No, I don't mean brain teasers.  It's that, well, she has long, thin fingers and, apparently, her nose itches a lot...way up in there.  It's an appalling and fascinating sight.  You can't help but wonder how she's NOT touching her brain.  This one is easy to avoid--just look away every time her hand moves towards her face.  (But you still know she's doing it. **shudder**)

As the saying goes, we choose our friends, not our family.  But my kids are wondering if we have to eat with family just because they are family.  (Yes)  :P


PS - This reads like a mean post, but I'm the only one who thinks we should get together with them.  I need to work on making that happen.

Thanksgiving, again

Our Thanksgiving (TG) menu (and this post) has become a tradition and is essentially the same every year.  The menu was my family's tradition, but became my-inlaws tradition when my wife and I were 19 (we were dating then). Just before TG my mother-in-law had surgery that left her incapacitated. My GF and her 3 sisters panicked at the thought of cooking TG dinner. I told them not to worry, I would do it. We agreed they would buy the turkey and I would take care of everything else.

I had never cooked ANY dinner before.  The only cooking I'd ever done was flipping burgers at Hardee’s (and beating tomato soup out of a can). But I'd watched my mom and grandma in the kitchen. Plus, I'd changed the water for them when they soaked turkeys. How much harder could it be to cook one?

Speaking of soaking a turkey, I decided to spend the night at my in-laws house so I could do that and get an early start cooking the next morning. After dinner I went to the fridge for the turkey. It wasn’t there. I asked my wife where it was. “Oh, it’s downstairs in the freezer.” *cringe* I thought they knew the bird had to thaw before it could be cooked…they didn’t. That was my fault, I should have asked about it several days earlier. No problem! I stayed up all night, changing the water every 30 minutes, and the bird was ready to cook by 8:00am. (But what was that stuff hidden in the neck cavity??? LOL!)

I’ll spare you the details on all the prep work and skip to the results. The turkey was a little dry. The mashed potatoes were a little lumpy. The marshmallows on top of the yams were a little scorched (really, just a little). I used Minute Rice for the sausage stuffing (it was good anyway) and the green beans were canned. But the salad was okay, my brown ‘n serve rolls and canned cranberry sauce were great and the butternut squash pie was perfect (my mom made it).

As you can see, I didn't make a great meal. But it didn't matter. Somehow it was one of their favorites and the menu became their new family tradition. I guess because they were feeling especially thankful that year—that my mother-in-law survived brain surgery.

So why am I sharing this? Well, just to show that there’s no need to stress if you're faced with cooking your first meal or first for a new sweetie or his/her family. The real joy in sharing a meal is not about the food, it’s about the time spent together. If your family-friends don’t appreciate you cooking for them, then invite me over. I ALWAYS appreciate it when someone else is willing to cook!!! Call early if you’re more than a 2 hour drive from DC.  ;P

Happy Thanksgiving—whether you celebrate or not (or have celebrated it already in Canada)!

If you don't mind sharing, what are you thankful for this week?

Life with Ricademus

I encountered a celebrity.  Danny "I'm too old for this stuff" Glover visited the Smithsonian's Folklife and Cultural Heritage progam.  I was in an elevator, heard someone ask me to hold it (which I did) and then Glover stepped in.  He politely thanked me.

I responded, "Happy to.  I wouldn't hold the elevator for just anyone.  I wouldn't hold it for Mel Gibson.  But happy to hold it for you."

He didn't react.  The ride only lasted one floor, so perhaps he was thinking about where he was headed rather than enjoying our elevator conversation.  Or maybe he was thinking about the best way to share the comment with Mel.  :)

You scratch my back...

A good back scratch can be one of life's simple pleasures. But one that misses "the spot" (that itches) can be surprisingly aggravating.  It's as if the fact that relief is so close intensifies the itch.  Maddening! 

For me, the spot is usually near the bottom of my left shoulder blade.  Now I have a plastic monkey's paw to bring relief when the need arises.  But way back in my teen years I sometimes ended up imitating a bear--scratching my back on the corner of a door frame.  Embarrassing, but it brought relief and occasionally offers of help.  Two of my co-workers at Hardee's could go right to the spot, as if they could read my mind.  It was very nice.  Very nice.  It helped that they were good workers--so I didn't have to feel guilty about scheduling them to work with me.  :)

Unfortunately my wife almost always missed the spot.  I often had to ask her to stop and a time or two I asked if she was doing it (missing) on purpose.  I remembered this because the other night she gave me a quick back scratch and found the spot.  I offered positive reinforcement, but it led to a Life with  Ricademus moment.

Me:  Thank you, you're the best.
Wife:  That's not what you used to say.
Me:  I don't know those people anymore.  :P

I messed up, but it worked out well.  She got to laugh, I got to laugh, and she got to smack my arm.  Of course it goes without saying that I'll be making do with the monkey's paw for the next few weeks.

Do you enjoy having your back scratched???  If you don't have a monkey's paw, a ruler (though not as stylish) works just as well.

Two Little Pigs at the Gym (I can be a jerk too)

I bet everyone who has joined a gym (and actually gone) has stories about their experiences there.  My friend Kristie shared an interesting gym story earlier this week—about Curly, Moe and Larry.  Or was it Manny, Mo and Jack?  Either way, it was a good story and reminded me of an experience I had with two little pigs.  Two guys who were at the gym only to ogle girls.  There's nothing wrong with noticing someone is attractive, but these fellows weren't doing that.  They were being pigs. 

Like Kristie, my wife and I joined the local Y.  It occupied a former elementary school and the gym was set up in the old Multipurpose Room.  During our workouts, we occasionally saw two men hanging out together at the water fountain.  They may have worked out before we arrived, but I never saw them work out.  All I ever saw them do was chat at the water fountain and take turns pretending to get a drink when a woman was on a certain piece of equipment.  Bending over and turning their heads to get a drink gave them a better angle to ogle.  My wife and I rolled our eyes at them and went about our workouts. 

One day I wasn’t motivated to workout.  We were using treadmills, side-by-side, up on the stage portion of the Multipurpose Room, looking out towards the water fountain.  I spotted the two little pigs in action.  I decided to try a little experiment--in search of motivation.  As I trudged along, I started thinking about what jerks those two were.  The ladies just wanted to get a little exercise, not be gawked at by a couple of jerks.  That could be my sister (no it couldn’t) or wife or niece or friend.  Who do those jerks think they are???  Jerks!!! 

I worked up a pretty bad attitude—and my legs were really moving.  I was getting a great workout.  But the anger must have started showing.

Wife:  What are you doing?

Me:  Nothing.

Wife:  Do you know those guys?

Me:  Nope.

Wife:  Stop it.

Me:  I'm not doing anything.

Wife:  Do you know that girl.

Me:  She’s a 22^nd cousin.  (supposedly we're all at least that close.)

My wife wasn’t the only one who noticed.  One of the guys made eye contact and then looked away quickly.  He tried acting nonchalant, but kept sneaking peeks at me.  I could feel my eyebrows furrowing down into my eye sockets and it was hard not to laugh, but I kept up the attitude.  Eventually that fellow told his friend.  Then they both tried (and failed) to act casual.  Within minutes they walked out, without making eye contact again. 

I don’t know what they were thinking.  Like my wife, did they think I knew the girl they were targeting?  Or did they just see a crazy person glaring at them as if they’d shot his dog?  I’ll never know.  But I do know I got a GREAT cardio workout that day.  And I know guys like that DO make me mad, I just let it show that day.  (And I know I was being a jerk too!)

*sigh*  I miss the excitement of the gym.  lol

Vote to Expand Gambling

Maryland's governor and several county executives (who cannot run for re-election) appear in commercials advising voters to approve an expansion of gambling in the state--because the related tax revenues will go to support schools.

They guarantee it.

The state comptroller (the money man--who can be re-elected) says school spending will not go up if gambling is expanded.  Any gambling revenues WILL go to schools.  But the school budget will not go up because the state will then reduce its contribution to school funding by essentially that same amount. 

The casino owners and their lapdog politicians will get rich and the schools will get basically nothing.  On the bright side, overall state revenues should go up.  But they may not because the proposal also includes a tax cut for casino operators. 

I'm voting against the expansion.

I'm not anti-gambling, I just hate the lies.  More taxes than I can remember (a special phone tax, real estate tax, liquor tax, etc.) have been passed to "support education".  But the schools never get the money.  It goes into the State's general fund and disappears.  Legalizing slots machines in the state was justified as "just slots" (no tables games, no real gambling) to save our schools and the state horse racing industry (a Maryland tradition).  Just two years later we've GOT to have table games to save our schools (Think of the children!!!).  The lottery was going to save the schools when I was a kid.  Instead it funded construction of a baseball stadium and then a football stadium.

For some reason voters have short memories and keep believing the lie that "it's for the children".

Perhaps it would be simpler to just remember that whenever politicians talk, they’re most likely lying. 


PS - I'll resume my usual positive attitude after the election tomorrow.  No mater what happens, we'll need to make the best of it.

Distractions

As we waited for Hurricane Sandy to wind down, I wanted to distract my family from it as much as possible.  So during the worst of the winds (and while secretly praying the windows didn't get blown in and the neighbor's tree stayed rooted) we sat in the kitchen working on a family project--assembling a propane grill.  Putting together grills is much easier than it used to be, but there are still plenty of parts and too many opportunities for jokes about what gets connected to the ham bone.  (Ever hear the "Dem Bones" song?  "The knee bone connected to the thigh bone"???)  Oh well my kids didn't know it either.

In addition to the project, there was general goofiness.  Things like reminding the kids to let me know if anything valuable blew into the yard--finders keepers!  And telling my son (repeatedly) if he needed to go to the bathroom he would have to go outside and use the Euphemism.  Fortunately he is familiar with Halloween is Grinch Night, the story of little Euchariah Who getting blown away by the wind when he went outside to use the outhouse.

Now that I think about it, except for putting together the grill (in case the power went out) and the sound of the wind, it was pretty much a normal day at our house.

We were very, very lucky.  I hope you, your family, and friends who were in Sandy's path are all safe and sound.

Halloween Classic

The Charlie Brown Halloween Special is on TV every year and I like to re-share the post about my strangest Halloween night. Both are traditions.  Here goes:

I was 14 and too old to trick or treat, but too young to stay in. So after helping my grandma close her store, I headed for the nearby sub-division to meet up with friends. It was a quarter-mile walk in the pitch black on a country road. Perfect for a spooky night.

When I neared the subdivision, I heard a commotion near one of the houses. As I rounded the corner and stepped into the front yard I saw a man in his 30’s pointing a shiny handgun at four boys--who were huddled together. I was out in the open and he pointed the gun at me.

Without thinking about it, I walked towards him, gestured towards the kids and asked, “What did they do?“, as if I was not a kid myself. He turned the gun back towards them. As I stood next to him, he explained his mother’s house had been egged—and he was tired of her being harassed. I introduced myself as the grandson of the woman who ran the little store (everyone knew her) and told him I’d talked with his mom many times.  Then I turned to the only one of the accused I knew:

Me: Andy, did you and your friends throw the eggs?
Andy: No.
Me: Do you know who did?
Andy: We saw guys running that way just before we got here.
Me: Okay, you two go look for the other guys and try to get names. You two help Mr. Wilson clean the egg off his mom’s house.

Mr. Wilson put his gun away, apologized to me for losing his temper, and then they all did what I told them to do. Whew!!! That’s when I realized if you act confident and that you are doing what you're supposed to, people will cooperate. It all happened so quickly, I didn’t have time to get nervous. But I did feel shaky as I went in search of my friends. That’s when I encountered the girl.

She and I had recently been talking on the bus and at school. I had just started this new thing where I actually talked with people. It was a conscious decision to change my behavior. I’d been VERY reserved up until then. That night we walked with the group, talked, and looked out for the little ones. When it was time to head home, she wanted to tell me something. We walked off to get some privacy. She said her family was moving out of state that weekend and she wanted to kiss me good-bye. It was quite an experience—my first real kiss. I didn’t have anything to compare it to, but it was nice. My opinion on that would change.

Soon, I wasn’t feeling great. By Thanksgiving I had pneumonia, which led to the discovery I also had mononucleosis and an enlarged spleen. One of the flapper’s friends confirmed she had mono when she kissed me—she’d snuck out of her house that night. I was VERY sick. Our doctor wanted to put me in the hospital, but my parents were frugal regarding health care (you did not want to be one of our pets). I missed school the entire month of December and there were rumors I'd died, so my first week back was a little strange. 

Some might think it sweet she slipped out of her house to kiss me goodbye.  Since I got so sick, I decided it was thoughtless she exposed me to mono.  Oh well, at least it was a memorable first kiss.

I ended the original post by wondering who would have guessed the girl would end up being more dangerous than the gun. At the time, it never occurred to me a girl could be that dangerous. What a naive boy. LOL!

Something is in the house!!!

One bright, autumn afternoon I went with my dad and brothers to do chores on my dad's family's farm.  We went after finishing chores at our house, so it was late afternoon.  I think I was 10.

My dad took our beagles along to let them run in the woods (practice chasing rabbits).  When we were ready to go home, we called the dogs .  But they were not ready to go--they ignored us.  In a move that completely shocked me, my dad decided to leave them there.  Leaving a son, sure (I joke).  But leaving his hunting dogs???  We went home, had dinner, and then headed back for the dogs.  It was well after dark

After arriving back at the farm we walked into the woods, listening for the dogs.  Before long we could hear them on the trail of a rabbit, howling as they ran.  We picked a spot we thought would be along their path, turned off the flashlights and waited.  Almost magically, they (thanks to the rabbit) ran towards us.  When they got close, we turned on the lights.  That startled the two dogs and they came over to us, wagging their tails. 

Within minutes we had them in the very back of my mom's station wagon, which was parked right next to the old farm house.  The ancient (Civil War-era) two-story house on the farm was abandoned at that point.  Local kids shot holes in the roof years before and the house was beyond saving.  It stood there, completely dark and eerie looking.

Guess what?  The station wagon wouldn't start.  The battery suddenly was very dead.

My dad decided to walk to our uncle's house for help.  We (my brother, me, and the beagles) stayed in the car.  I'm not sure if we waited there a long time or if time was just passing slowly. But it seemed as if our dad was gone a very long time.

As we sat there, I thought I heard something familiar.  It was the faint sound of sawing.  Where could it be coming from?  My brother asked if I heard it.  Then we agreed the sound was coming from the house.  The abandoned house!!!  It got louder.  We pretended it was nothing, but we were getting more creeped out the louder it got. 

Next we could hear hammering along with the sawing.  Something frightening was going on inside that house.  I told my brother we needed to do something (not sure if I meant investigate or run).  He did something.  He jumped into the back of the station wagon with the beagles.  They would save him!

Suddenly, all was quiet.  But soon the sounds started up again.  This time my brother could tell the sounds were being caused by the dogs--wagging their tails.  A slight wag made a "sawing" sound across the carpet and an excited wag made the dogs' tails thump against the side of the wagon--making a "hammering" sound.

I shared the story with my dad that night, which upset my brother.  Since he was older and tried to hide behind the dogs, I suppose he was embarrassed.  But not me!!!  I'm happy to share an almost-ghost story to go along with my real ones.

Have a great weekend!

Selecting Godparents

My wife watches "The New Normal."  Tonight's episode dealt with choosing godparents.  It reminded me that nothing (NOTHING) in my life ever inspired me more to want to LIVE. LOL!  Well, that and having to name a guardian for the kids in a will.  We could never agree on anyone.  Family members?  Nope!  Friends?  Nice people, but raising my kids???  I couldn't do that to them (my kids).

That might be a sign I need to start hanging out (in real life) with a better class of people.  :P

Smiling Faces

It's nice to see people smile, unless the smile resembles the lovable Dr. Sheldon Cooper's forced, creepy grin.  He means well, but it comes out wrong.  Having a friend with a contagious smile can really brighten up your life.

Speaking of smiles, many states now won't allow you to smile for your driver's license photo.  It used to be a joke that the pictures looked like mug shots (arrest pictures), but now they really do.  The government doesn't want smiles because they foul up computer facial recognition programs that identify people by comparing and matching photos--like the ones in the driver's license database.

So if I were a smart criminal and didn't want facial recognition programs to identify me, I probably would walk around with a big grin on my face all the time.

Hmmm...(so THAT's why he smiles all the time).  :P


PS - I joke, but it's not funny and it's nothing new (computer programs aside).  Smiling faces...to trust them or not?  All we can do is follow our instincts.

Painful Superpower

My wife has several superpowers and one of them is very painful--especially to me.

I first discovered this back in my Hardee's days.  An employee started to reach into the hot fry vat to grab something he'd dropped.  I pushed him away to stop him and he dropped what was in his other hand.  That caused hot oil to splash up and hit my left arm in a few spots.  I immediately shoved my arm into the ice machine.  (Did we remember to throw that ice out?  Oh well, that's not part of the story anyway.)  But it was too late, I had 5 or 6 serious burns that blistered up the next day.  They were all small, none larger than a US nickel. 

Enter the superpower.  My very reserved girlfriend suddenly felt playful.  She kept grabbing my hand and tickling my arm--and bumping the burns.  Within a day she'd accidentally popped all the blisters.  It hurt!  She didn't do it on purpose.  She's just magically drawn to injuries.  In another example, not long after we were married I developed an in-grown toenail.  Suddenly my wife became very clumsy, kicking or stepping on that toe repeatedly. 
Yee--ouch!

You're probably thinking it was intentional or perhaps her subconscious lashing out.  But that's not it.  I've hidden injuries from her in hopes of avoiding the pain of her superpower.  She still homes right in on on the sore spot.  I'm her main target, but not the only one.  At Disney she clipped (with a stroller) the heel of a German woman who'd just had foot surgery.  That was an unpleasant exerience.  Her co-workers have been on the receiving end of her magic and so have our kids.  It's one of those weird things you learn to accept (through gritted teeth--from the pain).   :P

We all have superpowers.  Do you know what yours are???


PS - My superpowers include (but are not limited to) finding wet spots on the floor with my socks; gravitating towards weird situations; and finding interesting people.

"Panic...

...and you are lost!!!"

I'm not sure my father or grandfather said those exact words to me.  But it was the gist of several comments from them.  I remember my grandfather telling me to remain calm around bees.  My dad, well, he shared advice on staying calm quite often.  The underlying theme was that you need to keep calm so you can deal with the situation--by yourself, without needing help from others.  The under, underlying theme was it's a man's responsibility to keep his head in any situation (while the girls and girly men panic).  My dad was just a bit old-fashioned and very German.  :P

Sexism aside, his advice about not panicking was actually helpful.  Starting when I was very young.  For example:

In the 3rd grade a class field trip fell through at the last minute.  Since we already had the bus, the teacher decided to take us to a park to play and have a picnic.  The specific park she chose had a very cool replica of an airplane.  You could sit in the open-air cockpit and pretend to fly or you could crawl through tubes in the wings.  I took  a turn in the pilot's seat and then wiggled through the right wing.  I decided to try the left wing.  I made it halfway through the tube, then got STUCK.

I was stuck in a tiny, freaking, metal tube!!!

I felt a brief surge of panic.  It lasted about as long as a gasp.  Then I could hear my dad's voice, telling me I had to figure out what to do.  I crossed my arms in front of me (to make my shoulders narrower) and used the tips of my sneakers to push forward and out of the tube.  Freedom felt very, very nice!  If I'd panicked, who knows what sort of emotional damage might have occurred before I was rescued (he wrote while twitching, shuddering, and twitching again).   :P

When you need help, remember no one is closer than you.  Help yourself when you can.  (I think I made that up--please don't tell me if you've heard it before)  Unlike my dad, I know we can't always control our reactions.  But if you can avoid panicking, it will only help you. 


PS - I wish my S-I-L (who called me screaming hysterically, as if she was driving off a cliff) could have taken a breath and remembered it was possible to turn around at the next highway exit when she realized she had missed her turn.  She had been driving for 20 years at the time. Instead she scared years off my life over nothing.  Nothing!!!

Ooops. I forgot.  She's a girl, it's okay for her to panic (according to my dad).  LOL!!!

A Failure

My next post is going to be about helping yourself, which can be difficult at times.  First, I want to share a story about a time I should have been patient and relied on others. But didn't!

While I worked at Hardee's the chain installed fancy, new slicers for their roast beef.  After we closed that first day, a company rep was supposed to show us how to clean and sharpen it.  Instead she sat out in the lobby talking with a friend.  I got tired of waiting (I had a long walk home ahead of me) and decided I would just do it myself--my grandmother had a slicer in her store, I knew how they worked.  Almost immediately, I made a mistake.

I cut my right index finger--deeply, really deeply. Really, really, deeply.  It HURT!  When a co-worker saw the blood, the guy started laughing.  Since I was gritting my teeth at the pain, his laughter was not the least bit contagious.  Did I mention it hurt???  As a result of that little encounter with a slicer blade, I have a straight line through my fingerprint.  It's no more visible than the rest of my fingerprint, but I know it's there.

So, when you can help yourself, do.  But when it is a non-emergency and you don't really know what you're doing (especially if  it's a machine with moving parts), get help!!! 


After I shared the slicer story with my wife, we had a "Life with Ricademus" moment:

Wife:  Did your parents sue Hardee's for your medical costs?

Me:  No, we could afford the bandaid.

I was mostly joking, but as I've mentioned before, my parents were frugal regarding health care--and they were asleep when I got home.  I really did just wash the wound, apply some mercurochrome and wrap a bandaid around it.  It was a straight, clean wound, so it healed well without stitches. 


PS - All fingerprints are unique, but I think my straight line would make it even easier for the FBI to identify me.  I HAVE to be good.  :) 

Dark Side V

Sometimes I worry people might get the wrong idea and think I'm nice. So it's time to share another darkside story to nip that in the bud.

Today's entry is from my time working as an assistant manager at a fast food place during high school. I primarily worked the closing shift, which required me to complete a daily sales and activity report. It included a variety of information, including the sales/cash reconciliation, a description of the weather and mention of any special circumstances which might have affected sales (like if the Burger King across the street burned down).  Once a week I also had to complete an inventory.

The store's other assistant manager at the time was a fellow named Paul. He was older than I was and had a different attitude towards the job. He thought the job made him cool and he acted like a jerk (I think of him everytime I see that cliche portrayed in a movie or show).  He ended up being fired for stealing. But just before that happened, I did something unfortunate to him.

When he worked afternoons, Paul would pre-sign the daily report that I had to complete at closing--so it would appear HE had done the work. I talked with him about it. He kept doing it. I warned him it was a type of fraud. He kept doing it. He was the manager's pet (I was the under-age hard worker), so making him eat a mushroom was not an option.  

One night as I finished a report Paul had signed (taken credit for), I received an inspiration. I decided to let him take credit for something interesting. I wrote that the weather had been really #$%^&* that day.

A week later Paul received a letter from headquarters informing him he would receive a reprimand if he used such colorful language again. He was confused. I told him it was the universe telling him he shouldn't sign reports I'd be completing.  He understood and stopped pre-signing my reports.  Soon it didn't matter. Within a few weeks the manager caught Paul stealing and fired him. It broke the old guy's heart. He'd taken a real liking to Paul (for some reason).

It was an evil thing for me to do. Even at 17 I should have been able to find a more adult way of handling the situation. I feel bad about it now, but for some reason I was smiling as I wrote this. Hmmm...

Have a great weekend--it's a 3-day weekend for me!

License to Drive

Some of you may wonder if I made up this story (I didn't).  Most of you will wonder WHY I'm sharing it, but there will be a point. 

Like most teens, I was eager to get my driver’s license.  I practiced on our dirt road—using an OLD 3-speed Rambler my dad sold to me.  He later sold it to someone else (and kept my money).  That’s a different story.  I was ready to take the driving test, but no one would take me.  My parents weren’t keen on having another driver in the family. 

Finally they relented during the school holiday between Christmas and New Year’s.  The youngest of my 3 sisters (the one who set me free in the woods) agreed to take me .  Yes!  I’d never driven her car, but I was confident that driving it to the DMV would be enough for me to get a feel for it. 

It would have been, except she refused to let me drive.  She said she agreed to take me, she didn’t agree to be my passenger.  It was still the best (only) offer I had.  The test consisted of driving through a course laid out in the DMV parking lot and then parallel parking.  My first attempt to park didn’t work.  So I checked the mirrors, pulled back out, and tried again.  Once I thought I was in the space properly, I put the car in “Park”.  The reviewer opened his door, looked down, and then told me to drive him back to the building—I passed. 

Once inside, my sister informed me she was not bringing me back.  That confused me.  I asked her if they made you come back to actually receive your license.  She responded, “No, but you failed.”  When I told her I passed, she got angry.  She wanted me to fail.  

Like that trip into the woods, it wasn’t anything (too) personal.  She failed the driving test the first 3 times she took it.  Like me, all of our other siblings passed on the first try.  That sister didn't want to be the only one who failed the driving test.  She wanted company in her misery. 

That's not unusual--I guess that's why there is an expression about it.  But the world is a much happier place when we manage to put aside petty feelings and instead try to be happy when others succeed--even on something so small as passing a driving test.  My sister could have been happy on the drive home.  But she chose to be miserable. 

Don't be like my sister!!!  That might be the best advice I've ever given.  LOL!

 

PS - Normally I’d feel compassion for someone in her position and offer comfort.  But her attitude pushed the same buttons my old classmate Harper did.  I wasn’t mean to her, there was no taunting.  I simply left her to her misery.   That was sort of the high road, right??? 

Life with Ricademus

My wife didn't like turning 30 or being 30.  It was a long year.  But towards the end, she seemed to lighten up about it.  One day, she approached me with a big smile on her face and referenced an old joke.

Wife:  So, when I'm 40, are you going to trade me in for two 20s?
Me:  How can you ask me that?  You know my second wife hasn't been born yet!

I got hit.

She was joking (I thought), I was joking, and I get in trouble.  It's not fair I tell ya!  :)


Enjoy the weekend folks, see you in October--one of the year's best months!

Stranger in a strange land

What is this place?  What is a b-l-o-g???

No, I haven't lost my memory (although I wouldn't mind forgetting some of my stinky-er posts).  It's just that it's  been so long since I posted, I feel out of place--and I don't have anything interesting to share.  So instead I thought I'd give you (even) more insight into what my poor wife has to put up with.  Among other things, she has to put up with me saying crazy things at times, just to break up the day and hopefully give someone a smile.  Here's a recent example.

My wife tells stories about my life to her co-workers on a regular basis.  Later she'll share their reactions.  Often, just out of the blue several weeks later, one of her co-workers will ask a question or make a comment related to one of the stories.  Then we'll have a brief conversation like this one.

Wife:  Joe asked how many times you've had a gun pointed at you.
Me:  *after thinking for a moment*  Including family???

She usually laughs, shakes her head and then I give her a real answer.


This may be the first of a "Life with Ricademus" series.  I just need to remember to write things down after I say them.  Then, when I'm having trouble coming up with a real post, I can embarrass myself by oversharing more comments like the one above. 

Bad idea???

Aww, Shucks!

I had corn on the cob over the weekend.  It's one of my favorite things about summer and it reminded me of summers past.  I've mentioned my dad grew up on a small farm.  While I was growing up, he and his siblings leased the fields out to a local farmer.  As rent, the farmer paid the property taxes and planted a section of  "sweet corn" for us (as opposed to the "field corn" he grew to sell).

Every August we made a special trip (or three) to the farm to pick corn.  Usually it was a Saturday evening, after a day full of chores.  By the time I was 11, I knew to take a long-sleeve shirt along to wear in the field.  It was too hot for long sleeves, but the stems sticking out from the stalk were very itchy on my skin--and occasionally the edges of them caused what felt like paper cuts.  We'd work until dark, sometimes a little beyond that.

On the way home we'd stop at the homes of various friends and give them each a paper bag full of fresh-picked corn.  After church on Sunday morning we (but honestly, mostly me) would sit in the shade, shucking corn for HOURS.  My mom and sisters stayed busy in the kitchen, blanching the shucked ears of corn and bagging them to be frozen.  

It's a nice memory, but my favorite part is that each year I exasperated my dad.  He preferred younger, more tender ears of corn.  Each year he'd show me one and each year get annoyed when I'd go on to pick an assortment of younger and more developed ears.  He'd remind me he didn't like the older ears and say I would have to eat them.  And I'd smile.

He thought I was simply picking every ear in sight.  I wasn't.  He never figured out that I preferred the more mature, more developed ears of corn.  So I picked some of what he and the rest of the family liked and some of what I liked.

I've never been one to go with the crowd on anything--which I think now exasperates my boss a little.  Some things never change.   :)

Stung, but not by a bee

Have you ever been stung by a human? I know that’s a weird question, but I’m pretty sure I was stung by a human once. By my step-sister.

Just a little background. She was 18 and I was 25 when my dad met her mom.  She alternated between flirting and acting as if we had grown up together as brother and sister. The latter was okay, the flirting was weird. I never reacted to it one way or the other. I just acted as if she had said nothing. My brothers blushed...that egged her on.

We're not friends, but we’re friendly when we’re in the same place—always as members of large gatherings. Except once. A few months after my dad passed away, my step-mother asked my wife and me to visit her in Florida to help sort his things. My wife helped her in the morning while I took care of some estate details.  Then the 3 of us worked on sorting in the afternoon. We took her and her daughter out to dinner that evening and then sat and talked for a while back at her condo.

When it was time for us to head to our hotel, we started exchanging half-hugs to say goodbye. When my step-sister got to me I could see that instead of the standard fake kiss on the cheek, she was zeroing for a kiss on the lips. My reflexes were good. I turned my head to the left so quickly and so hard she ended up planting a kiss just below my right ear. When she did that it felt like I had been stung by a bee.  Ouch!!! 

On the way to the car I told my wife about the sting and she laughed—thinking I was joking. We stopped at a convenience store on our way to the hotel and in the light my wife could see that my neck was red and splotchy just below my right ear—and it looked like there was a prick in the skin.  It burned.

I washed the spot as soon as we got to the hotel. Then I turned to my wife and said, “OMG, she bit me…now I’m going to live forever!!!” Well, I seem to be continuing to age and I didn’t develop a lust for blood, so there seems to be no long-term side-effect from the sting. =)

But does anyone know what she did to me—or how she did it? How does a human “sting” someone???  It was not a static electricity shock, that wouldn't have left my neck splotchy.  And while her lipstick/gloss could possibly have cause a reaction on my skin, it shouldn't have felt like a sting.  Very strange!


PS - This is another repeat post.  :)

Gauging Status

I've had a slew of car problems lately.  I won't list them all, I'll just say it's bordering on ridiculous.  When I got home from work tonight, my wife said my car (her van is in the shop) came close to overheating today.  I sighed a mighty sigh and went to check it out.  The radiator was full, so I took the car for a drive to see what would happen.  The needle on the temperature gauge settled into the middle of the normal range and stayed there.  It was fine.

My wife didn't believe that, so we went for a short drive together.  Almost immediately she pointed to the gauge and said, "See, the needle is going all the way up to the "L" in Normal."

She was pointing to the oil pressure gauge!!!  The oil pressure was in the higher range of normal, which is good.

The temperature gauge also has "normal" written on it, with a "C" on the left and an "H" on the right.

I guess it goes without saying that it's important to be sure what you're looking at before drawing any conclusions--and making me sigh in that "oh no, not again!" way.  ;P

Appreciate: An Action Verb

My blogfriend Roma once challenged me to write a post about pronouns and I responded.  The post was  silly, but I had fun writing it.  Today I want to write about verbs...certain verbs.

"Appreciate" is one of them--it's a transitive verb.  And if I remember correctly (I did accounting homework during English class, so I could easily be wrong), a transitive verb is an action verb.  But how often have you heard someone say things like "I appreciate your help."; "I respect your work.'"; or even "I love you" and then thought (or perhaps said), "yeah, sure you do!"???  It happens when one of those action verbs sounds like just a word.

It's possible the person meant what they said, but was distracted by the 12,000 things going on in his/her life.  "Isn't it enough that I said it???"  Sometimes it is.  But not always and actions speak louder than words.

Sometimes it's important to show it.  It can be as simple as how you treat the person, writing a thank you note, buying someone lunch or a giving them a bonus.  LOL, sorry, thinking about work for a second there--because work is what inspired this post.

I've been doing 3 jobs for nearly 10.5 months.  During the first 9 months, our organization's director often said, "Rick, I really apreciate what you're doing."  At first that was nice.  Over time it started to bother me.  At the 6 month mark I asked him to stop because it seemed he was taking the work for granted.  There's a long story behind that, but I'll just say that even monkeys object to unequal treatment (unlike the monkeys, I didn't throw anything).  He resigned at the end of June and, to his credit, he included me among only 5 people (out of 1,800 in our org.) that he thanked.

Since our new director started 6 weeks ago, she has put me in for a temporary promotion, a bonus, and as of next Monday, a permanent promotion.  I joked that if it was possible for me to work harder, I would.  She laughed and suggested I take some time off instead.  After having stayed in jobs for an average of 3 years up until now, I think I may have found a home.  We'll see--in about 3 years!   :)


PS - I need to do better at showing appreciation myself and letting my friends know I'm thinking of them.  The holiday cards I meant to send out last year are still sitting in a drawer.  I'm not even sure which one.  On the bright side, I'm one step ahead for the 2012 holidays (assuming I can find the cards).  lol

And they called it puppy love...

My dad never said it, but it was clear he viewed childhood as bootcamp for life.  The only way to become good at something is to experience it.  He helped me to experience plenty.  But this post isn't about that.  It's about two of my teenage relationships...which were good practice for my adult relationships--in case I ever have any.  lol

I shared the story about my first girlfriend--she was cheating on her real BF with me, I got angry, and got even.  I learned a good lesson from that (I'll never do that again--try to get even).  And I learned one good lesson from the next two.

The 2nd GF was a nice girl, a little silly--a typical 15 year-old.  We talked between classes and occasionally held hands (pretty racy stuff).  She asked to see a picture of me as a little boy.  The ONLY picture I had was my little profile picture--and I only had ONE of those (I didn't know my parents had others).  She "awww'd" appropriately and asked if she could have it.  I thought to myself, "We'll probably break up before the end of the school year, but I'm pretty sure I'm still going to want that picture."  So I said no.  Like any good teenage girl, she was offended.  She broke up with me the next day--but at least I still had my picture!!!  I'll get to the lesson later.

I found the next GF pretty quickly--we had 4 classes together.  There was more talking between classes (she loved to talk) and less hand holding than with #2.  It was getting close to the end of the school year and the girl asked what I would be wearing to the 9th grade dance.  I hadn't asked her yet, but she assumed I would.  I found I didn't care for that.  I told her I hadn't decided whether I was going or not.  She got very pushy about it.  The more she pushed, the longer I decided to wait before asking her.  Finally her nagging got to be too much and I broke up with her.

Yikes, as I'm writing this, for the first time, I see that both girls wanted something from me I wasn't willing to give them (at least not on their terms).  Hmmm, but that's not the lesson.  The lesson was realizing that aside from them being cute/popular, there wasn't really anything I liked about them.  ("Tryin' to lose the awkward teenage blues" maybe?) I was wasting my time and theirs.  Especially mine. :)  That's okay for teenagers--it was a learning experience. 

PS - Another good lesson was learning to say "no" in a relationship.  Oh, and I learned that a girl who never stops talking is not for me.  Apparently I learned more than just one lesson from those experiences.  Also, not surprisingly, I find that "pushy" still makes me dig in my heels.  I don't want to, I just HAVE to!!!  :P

Up-cycling???

We had a jar of bread and butter pickles in our refrigerator.  One evening last week I ate the last one in the jar, rinsed it out, and set it aside to go into our recycling bin.

Tonight I drank ice water out of a glass that has, "Best if used by Dec 2012" written on the side!?!

My wife likes drinking out of Mason jars.  It reminds her of childhood visits to family in the VA/TN mountains.

But pickle jars???

Oh well, I'm pretty sure my parent's juice glasses were cream cheese spread jars or jelly jars or something like that. It's a normal thing to do, right???

Blogging Three Years?

I posted my first real blog entry on August 1, 2009.  I jumped into blogging by sharing a story about what had to be the dumbest thing I ever did.  Young and dumb...a bad combination. :)

How did it get to be August 1st already?

For that matter, how did it get to be 2012???

Ready, Aim...

Don't worry, this isn't another post about poorly aimed slingshots, or guns falling apart, or words taking on a life of their own once you speak them.  This post is about getting 8 year-olds to do my bidding.  =)

In my youth I took one season of tennis lessons and played on several teams.  I wasn't great, but with the right motivation (girls watching) I held my own on the court.  I also played other sports--at school, through the local boy's/girl's club, and pick-up games at the local park.  When I turned 15, the boy's club instituted a new requirement--parents volunteer to help OR pay a sizeable fee for their children to participate.  My clever (and thrifty) dad found a way around that.  He registered me to teach 8 year-olds how to play tennis.  I thought it was going to be awful.  I was wrong.

The kids turned out to be fun and we had fun together.  However, they didn't warm up to my co-coach (Chuck).  He was a fellow I'd known since elementary school.  We were friendly, but not really friends.  He was very stiff, didn't have much of a sense of humor, and thought he was the best tennis player in the world (he was a very poor sport when my partner and I beat him in a mixed doubles tournament).  Unfortunately, that inspired the kids and me (in a bad way).  During the 2nd lesson, we split the kids into two groups, with my group working on how to serve the ball.  They picked it up surprisingly well.  So well that I decided to give them a target...you know, just to help them work on their control.  I had the boys line up and all attempt their serves at the same time.  If they hit the target, they won. 

The target was Chuck. 

While the kids couldn't hit the ball hard enough to hurt anyone, it was annoying for Chuck to have 10 tennis balls come flying at him unexpectedly all at once (as the kids laughed hysterically).  That short season seemed a little longer to him, since that happened a time or two (or 6) before our work was done.  Adult Rick feels bad about setting that in motion.  I meant it in a teasing way, not a mean way, but Chuck probably couldn't tell the difference.

Soooo, if you have kids and sign them up for organized sports, pay attention to the coach.  He/she could be a good or bad influence in ways big and small. 

PS - I just learned from Kathy (Vodka and Soda) that girls gang up on each other in different ways.

Insult or Compliment II???

"I'd rather have bad times with you, than good times with someone else"

According to my wife, the proper response to that line is, "No thanks!"  She hears it as, "Sure, you're a *itch and we're only going to have bad times together, but I might as well stay."  LOL! 

She KNOWS the lyric is saying that even bad times with that person are better than good times with someone else, but she still doesn't like it.

How do you feel about that line, insult or compliment???

My Luck Holds...

Yesterday I used my wife’s van to commute because she said it had been “shaking”.  I suspected the front end was out of alignment and wanted to test drive it.  I didn’t feel anything during the morning commute—which is normal, I am really not a morning person.  Who knows, maybe it was shaking. ;P

At the end of the day I decided to leave work on time for a change.  I knew that meant the subway would be more crowded, but that’s still better than working late.  Right?  Of course the subway was awful.  The trains were running late and the platform was packed.  I had to wait for the 3^rd train, which was still crowded—no personal space.  Finally I got to my destination and thought the worst was behind me.  I was wrong.

Traffic was almost as bad as the subway had been.  I was happy to get into the 3^rd lane on the highway to go around the worst of the congestion.  Then the van started to shimmy, hard.  I eased back over into the middle lane.  Then the van really started shaking, like it was going to fall apart.  I merged over to the first lane, into a smaller space than I normally would.  Within seconds I heard a mini-explosion and black smoke was pouring out from behind the van.  And at 65 mph, the van couldn’t decide which direction it wanted to go.  The next few seconds were an interesting blur that ended with me coasting to a stop on the side of the road, in the shade of a bridge. 

I inspected the damage after the smoke cleared—the nasty smell lingered.  Both rear wheels were tilted in at the top, as if a giant had pushed down too hard on the car.  I back-off a little and could see the rear axle had snapped in half, almost right in the middle.

It turns out there had been a recall for that vehicle’s rear axle—and its front axle.  I didn’t know about either one.  After a mini-detour, the vehicle is now at a dealership being repaired (for free).

What lessons did I learn from this?

1:  Periodically Google factory recalls for your vehicle—you might find a life-saving surprise.
2:  Never leave work on time.  It’s just asking for trouble—leave early instead. =)
3:  Let my wife test drive her own vehicle from now on!!!

LOL, jk, I’m glad it happened to me instead of her.   Aside from the obvious reason, I always seem to have good luck in situations like that (emergencies, stalkings, etc.).  KNOCK ON WOOD! 


What was your worst or most exciting automobile-related incident??? 

Compliment or Insult???

It's such an ancient pitch.
But one that I wouldn't switch,
Cause there's no nicer witch than you!


Frank Sinatra has been coming up a lot lately when I put my iPod on shuffle.

Annoying Drivers

There are so many categories, but today I'm thinking about the slow-pokes.  Why are they even out if they don't need to be somewhere???  ;P

Especially those that drive in the left lane.  Slower traffic is supposed to keep to the right.  I don't know about other countries, but driving handbooks in the US state it clearly (about staying to the right).  That's why you so often hear people complaining about slow drivers being in the left lanes.

But you know what?  The driving handbook also says you are not supposed to drive faster than the posted speed limit.  So when the handbook says slower traffic should keep right, it's referring to cars going slower than the speed limit (at least in my area).  The slow-pokes going the speed limit in the left lane are among the few drivers on DC's roads who are NOT breaking the law. Technically, we're in the wrong.

But it's still annoying, isn't it? 

The next time you're stuck behind a driver who is obeying all of the driving laws, tell yourself that he or she is probably saving you from getting a ticket--or having concrete from a bridge collapse on top of you.  That happened to me once.  During a morning commute I got stuck behind a little old man who was driving just under the speed limit.  I was so annoyed.  But then big chunks of concrete fell off a bridge and landed in our lane.  We just barely had time to stop before hitting it (and if we'd been going faster it may have hit us).  The side of the bridge had been hit several times by trucks that were too tall to go under...that had weakened the concrete.

I've had this post in mind for a long time.  But after hearing today that someone (no names)  was annoyed at a slow, left-lane driver, I decided it was time to write it.  Let's all take a breath, be patient, and perhaps try to leave a little earlier for our appointments--and get there safely.


PS - For the record, I usually drive 5-10 mph over the speed limit--that doesn't set off any of the many, many new speed cameras that are popping up around DC.  =)

Get to know me: 25 random questions

I was recently tagged by MizzJ to answer "25 random questions." I'm pleased because she and I have been blog friends for a while. I assume this tag means she's not tired of my over-sharing. :) Check out MizzJ's blog here.

1. Where were you 3 hours ago? - At work.

2. Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you? - Let's see...nope! I think my current pillow case has pink on it, but I'm not sure

3. What are you wearing right now? - Plaid pajama shorts and a Snoopy t-shirt.

4. What are the colors of your bedroom walls? - I think they're blue.

5. Who is the last person you sent a message or comment /BBM? - Rooth

6. What does your last text message say? - A secret code from my bank.

7. Can you Taste The Difference Between Pepsi And Coke? - Yes, but not diet Pepsi and diet Coke.

8. Is your hair curly or straight? - Straight. But if I wait too long for a haircut, it starts to curl near my ears. I don't like that.

9. Which is the hardest thing you ever had to do? - At first I was going to say public speaking. Almost no one takes to that right off the bat. But then I started thinking about real-life challenges that involved more than the potential to embarrass myself. If you're hoping for a funny answer, please skip ahead to 10.

I'd say it's a toss up between an "Old Yeller" incident (@ 12) and deciding whether to turn off life-support for my mom (@ 25). The two are not equal, but because of the difference in my age and experience I decided not to choose. There were other situations that came close. But most of those involved reacting to an emergency. Having to act without a lot of time to think is easier. Sorry for going serious. I usually aim to keep things light, but everyone encounters situations like those above at some point. It's part of life.

10. Favorite 2 color combination? - White and blue (for the shirt and pants I wore to work today)

11. What is your favorite accessory? - I think my watch is the only accessory I have. :)

12. Which current celebrity's style do you admire most? - William H. Macy (I made that up because I assume his style is boring, but I have no idea

13. What is your favorite fashion store/shop? - I like Eddie Bauer's winter socks...so maybe Eddie Bauer.

14. When was the last time you drove out of town? - A short trip to Baltimore in April.

15. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear? - The Snickers commercial with Joe Pesci.

16. What was the last thing you bought? - A mocha frappe--a very unusual purchase for me. It was hot outside!

17. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning? - Do I have an early morning meeting??? Followed by, "Is it Saturday?"

18. Favorite Food? - This is constantly changing, so I guess I don't have a favorite.

19. Biggest turn off? - People who are arrogant, obnoxious, insulting, oblivious.

20. What do you always have on you/wear? - A small, yellow gold cross.

21. What does your screen name mean/how did you come up with it? - It's a rip-off of Nicodemus. I was sort of a serious child (a little adult), so a neighbor called me Ricademus to get me to smile. It was the same neighbor I asked "do I look like you" when we met. I was 4 and thought I was adopted. :)

22. Favorite style of top/blouse? - Dress shirts with button-down collars, Henley shirts, t-shirts.

23. Favorite tv show? - Psych? STNG? I really like the current version of Sherlock Holmes (with Mr. Cumberbatch) on the BBC, but each season is only 3 episodes. That's too few to make the list.

24. What is a favorite TV show from your childhood? - NOT Mr. Rogers--never liked that guy.

25. What does your dream bedroom look like? - Since I'm not even sure about the color of my bedroom walls, I'm going to steal part of MizzJ's answer--comfortable and girly (because my girl should be comfortable there and I don't really care what it looks like).

Miscellaneous

I couldn't find my box of emergency supplies during the blackout, because so much junk has piled up in the middle of our storage room.  (None of the junk is mine--what little I have in there is on a shelf, which is now inaccessible.)  I mentioned that to my wife and she asked what was in the box.  I told her I had 2 lanterns, a battery-free flashlight/radio, candles, batteries, and things to start fires.  She and the kids thought the last item was strange--I heard multiple exclamations of "What!!!" from around the room.  But what's weird about having a torch jet cigar lighter and a magnesium fire starter set aside for emergencies???  Okay, the magnesium may be a little extreme.  But if we have a blackout during a blizzard, my emergency wood supply (the dining room set) would be useless if I can't start a fire.  :) 
I aim to be prepared, hopefully without being crazy about it. 

In my recent blackout related posts, I forgot to mention my new crush. She has an unusual name and she's just the coolest! She's awesome and amazing. I love going for long rides in the car with her--all seems right with the world. Her name is Max AC!!! Just thinking about her makes me smile. When the electricity was out, running errands with Max was just the best. I expect us to remain close until September....then I'll probably forget about her until May. ;P

Wow, I have nothing good to share today.  My life was really boring during the blackout!

I have the power!!!

Well, maybe not "the" power, but I have power.  My apologies to He-Man.  But if it got this hot and humid on Eternia, he would understand. 

I like summer time, but not the heat.  I like trips to amusement parks, cutting open a cold watermelon, baseball, festivals, families from all over the world visiting my museums (yes, the Smthsonian is mine), funnel cake, fresh corn-on-the-cobb, cookouts...Haha, can you tell I'm hungry at the moment???

Anyway, the power is back on and we're enjoying it.  Other than a trip to the grocery store (see above), we stayed in.  Thanks to the "Fireworks for Shut-ins" broadcast, we were able to see the National fireworks on the Mall.  Good food, air conditioning, and no mosquitoes.  It was a pretty good day.  Not our traditional celebration, but not bad.

During the blackout I saw examples of profiteering, but saw people helping each other too.  I want to thank my nonprofiteering friend rooth for helping remind me to focus on the positive.

Speaking the the positive, now I need to catch up on my blog reading. =)

Cold Shower

Late Friday night the DC area was rocked by high winds, hail, and heavy rain.  We lost power at 11pm along with over 800,000 others.  Saturday was long and unpleasant--our temperature hovered in the 100 (37-38) degree range.  The highlight of the day was taking a very cold shower before heading out to run a few errands.  "Run" isn't the right word, since I did them as slooowly as possible.  Right now we're borrowing wi-fi from my wife's office as I charge my netbook and iPod (and enjoy their a/c).

It's supposed to be just as hot on Sunday and Monday.  I'm not sure when our power will be restored.  One of the local power companies assured its customers that within 24-48 hours they would have an estimate on how long the power will be out.   Is it just me, or is that crazy???

We're going to play "Guess what this used to be" tomorrow as we clean out the refrigerator.

Hope you're doing well.  Enjoy what's left of your weekend!


Edit:  Still waiting for electricity @ 9am on Tuesday.

Dark Side - Revenge

If this is not the most evil thing I've done, it’s definitely in the top 2 and I've forgotten the other one. It involved my very first girl friend—Dawn. We were 14. I spotted her during soccer practice. She was a cheerleader (the best one). She agreed to be my girl.

For 3 weeks we held hands, smiled at each other and talked in the hallways. Then just out of the blue she broke up with me. It might have been because her family didn’t like “Catlicks”, as her grandpa pronounced it. "Might have been" but wasn't.  I soon learned the true reason. Her actual boyfriend (an older boy) had been out of town and now was back. She had used me as a temporary replacement--cheating on the other guy. I wasn't really upset when we broke up, but the new info made me mad. I wanted revenge and I had a plan. An evil plan!

Step 1 - I used all the charm I had (at 14—hahaha) to win her back. It worked.  I convinced her to break up with the older guy so we could get back together.
Step 2 – I bought a couples ticket for the upcoming school dance. She was on restriction for a bad grade in Spanish. She wasn’t allowed out of her house after school.
Step 3 – I invited her to the dance. She gave me an annoyed look and reminded me she was on restriction. I replied, “Oh that’s right. But I bought a couples ticket. Do you mind if I ask someone else?” Her jaw dropped and she starred at me for about 5 seconds before she stormed off.

I sold the ticket for face value, went to the dance alone, and met my second girl friend there. Victory!  Right???  Wrong!  At first I thought “now we’re even”, but my annoying conscience kept making me think about it. (Is there a way to remove that thing???)  I felt awful about it.  As you might have guessed, guilt worked its magic and I've never considered doing anything like that again. Not even when karma paid me back and I found myself in a similar situation in high school.

During my short dating career, two girls cheated on their boyfriends with me (without my knowledge of the situation). It was unpleasant. By any chance have you had a similar experience?

PS – I bumped into Dawn four years later and we had a great talk. I apologized. She apologized and gave me a hug.  I served my penance.  So please don't yell at me about this. :)

Summer's Here - Giveaway Winers!!!

Summer is officially here, so it's time to announce the Almost Summer Giveaway winners.  As usual, I used the random number generation feature in Excel to assign numbers to each entry, with the lowest numbers being the winners.  The sort revealed our Grand Prize winners and runners-up (also winners) are (highlighted in yellow): 

Herro Hachi Winners                                                                   Flo Tea Room Winners

Herro Hachi winners, please visit Herro Hachi to pick out your prize (any t-shirt of your choice) and e-mail your selection and mailing address to Kym (kym@herrohachi.com).  As the HH Grand Prize winner, rooth may select any item available on the Herro Hachi website.

Flo Tea Room winners, please contact Harmony (flotearoom@hotmail.com)  to let her know if you'd like her to mail your gift certificate or if you'd prefer to pick it up (I've heard rumors about the Candian Post being slow).  As the FTR Grand Prize winner, Elisse...gets a gift certificate--haha, sorry, the gift certificates are all the same.  But you still have the distinction of being the Grand Prize winner! :)

Thank you all for being here, all of my blog friends, I truly appreciate it--you're among the great people who make blogging fun.  Also, thank you Kym and Harmony for making the giveaway so easy (for me). 

Okay, let's all have a great summer!!!


PS - I don't think I used the word "winner" enough in this post.  :)

Weird Significant Others (a brief repeat)

They can be weird creatures...me included. Heck, maybe I'm the president of the weird spouse club. But this is about my wife. She did something pretty funny recently.

One morning as I was wiping the sleep from my eyes and trying to remember exactly why I had to go to work, my wife said, "You were in big trouble when I woke up. I was SOOOO mad at you because of what you did in my dream last night. But I decided to forgive you!"

Forgive me?!? But I'm not complaining. This has happened before...and usually she punches me in the arm before I'm fully awake. She doesn't hit hard in those situations, so I've decided it's cute.


PS - I posted this when I first started blogging and almost no one saw it.

Oh, My Pa-pa...

to me he was so...different.  The "different" relates to some of the lessons he shared--like how to take out the neighbor's crazy-mean German Shepherd.  But I covered that last Father's Day.  This year I want to repeat the oddest story about my dad.  If you're squeamish, you might want to skip to the bottom!

Back in the day, where my dad grew up, boys were not circumcised until just before they started school. When it was my dad’s turn, he was rewarded with a bag of candy for taking it like a man. Later, his younger brother asked if he could have some of the candy. My dad told him no, it was only for boys who'd been circumcised. My uncle was afraid of doctors, but he really wanted the candy. My dad came up with a solution. He'd watched the doctor and was sure he could handle the procedure. Yes! He grabbed his mother’s shears and took his little brother down to their barn. A few minutes later their younger sister walked in, saw blood, and ran screaming for help. Fortunately that uncle was fine—he went on to father 4 kids. No DNA confirmation though. ;P

Hearing that story (and others) helped me to understand why my dad seemed to believe childhood was boot camp for adulthood--and he was the drill sargeant. He knew first-hand the trouble kids could get into and he wanted to keep us out of it.  But I was such a good kid, I really didn't need to be kept out of trouble.  Sure, there was the mushroom incident, and the slingshot incident, and the cast iron skillet incident, and the...but I'm getting off track.  The point is that I rarely got into any trouble (that my dad knew about).  Like any thoughtful child, I did my best to not cause any problems (that my dad would hear about).  That was my gift to him.  It was the least I could do.  =)


PS - I joke, but I really was a good kid--the one in the group who steered his friends away from doing dumb things.  Usually!  Sometimes dumb ideas were just too well camouflaged as good ideas.  Live and learn.  lol