For the most part I feel that I'm living a happy life. I mean, I'm happy, right? Don't I seem happy?
Of course there are times when I'm maybe not perky happy or bubbly happy or jumping up and down. But I'm guessing that everyone feels down at times. The thing for me is simply not to prolong in thought whatever it is that's bugging me. Think of something else. Sidestep it. Do something else.
It's like I said at the top, for the most part, what more could I want in life? I have companionship with Grandma. We have food, a freezer, a pantry. We have a toilet. Running water. A phone. A computer to check out the news, whatever.
And I think I have prospects. People know me, sort of. I see people who act like they've seen me before, and of course they have. The grocery store, Walmart, downtown, the post office. Things could be better in this area. But with age and balding I guess I need to set my sights lower...
Speaking of Walmart, I had my eye on an aquarium last night, thinking maybe one would look good in my room. I think it was a 10 gallon jobbie and seemed to come with enough supplies to get a guy started in a very proper way. I don't know what all was in there. Gravel, a heater, a filter pump, some decorations. Then I'd need fish, and you have to do it all in particular ways so the fish don't get a disease. You want them as happy and healthy as can be.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Grandpa's Birthday
Today would have been Grandpa's birthday. He was born in 1897, so that would make him, what? [Pencil scratching on pad....] Something more than 100 for sure. 97 to 97, then ... 112. Wow, you know you're old when you need a calculator to figure it out!
I don't think I was going this blog last year at this time. I'm too lazy to check but it doesn't seem like it. He would have been 111 then, which is a lot of 1's. But now he has a 2 to break up the monotony. Flip the 111 over and you've got half an I Ching, so that might make him a hill, a mountain, or a berm of something solid, snow, ice, or dirt. Put in the 2 and his berm is lessened, with a sideways 2, clearly a digit and not a symbol of land.
Grandpa wanted to make 100. I'm sure he thought he would. But he didn't. Death intervened, and he passed on in the late 1970s. He didn't seem like he was in the worst of health. But life was hard for him. He worked hard. He looked old most of the time.
He had a rugged sense of humor. Not always appropriate. He told us a story one time, many times actually, about a guy who they put a necktie on. He stood in one place for three days! (The joke there is that they used to tie up horses to keep them in one place and this guy associated having a necktie with being tied up like a horse.) Some of Grandpa's language wasn't too appropriate for younger ears, including mine. I don't like to have a lot of cuss words on my blog -- which was really the heart of Grandpa's vocabulary. But he's famous for one line, waving to a guy passing by and saying he's "Harry." Harry who? Harry [A-hole, censored by me.]
Today is his day. Long may he live ... in Heaven.
I don't think I was going this blog last year at this time. I'm too lazy to check but it doesn't seem like it. He would have been 111 then, which is a lot of 1's. But now he has a 2 to break up the monotony. Flip the 111 over and you've got half an I Ching, so that might make him a hill, a mountain, or a berm of something solid, snow, ice, or dirt. Put in the 2 and his berm is lessened, with a sideways 2, clearly a digit and not a symbol of land.
Grandpa wanted to make 100. I'm sure he thought he would. But he didn't. Death intervened, and he passed on in the late 1970s. He didn't seem like he was in the worst of health. But life was hard for him. He worked hard. He looked old most of the time.
He had a rugged sense of humor. Not always appropriate. He told us a story one time, many times actually, about a guy who they put a necktie on. He stood in one place for three days! (The joke there is that they used to tie up horses to keep them in one place and this guy associated having a necktie with being tied up like a horse.) Some of Grandpa's language wasn't too appropriate for younger ears, including mine. I don't like to have a lot of cuss words on my blog -- which was really the heart of Grandpa's vocabulary. But he's famous for one line, waving to a guy passing by and saying he's "Harry." Harry who? Harry [A-hole, censored by me.]
Today is his day. Long may he live ... in Heaven.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Every Inch Stepped On
I was out in the snow today and had one of those feelings that I've had periodically over the years. That is to think about all the people who've tracked through here and every inch of land over the course of time.
The snow comes down and is virginal, but it loses its virginity very fast, with everything tracking over it. Squirrels, rabbits, dogs, birds, me, the gas man, the postman, neighbors, kids, etc. You look out and it doesn't take long till there's been a footstep or marking made virtually everywhere. Then multiply that over the many years and you realize there's barely an inch of territory that doesn't get someone's tromping feet on it.
But I suppose I should back up. Because I drive across country sometime, giving Grandma a ride, and we look out at the fields and there aren't always tracks out there. Or the land up on the hill with the trees. Realize though that if you actually got there there'd have to be rabbit tracks, deer tracks, birds, and other things. It can't be as pure as it looks from the car.
The earth is made to be used. Footprints, snow angels, pee stains, rubbish blowing up against fences, other droppings and marks.
It's not just us. It's dinosaurs and lizards. They've all been through here.
The snow comes down and is virginal, but it loses its virginity very fast, with everything tracking over it. Squirrels, rabbits, dogs, birds, me, the gas man, the postman, neighbors, kids, etc. You look out and it doesn't take long till there's been a footstep or marking made virtually everywhere. Then multiply that over the many years and you realize there's barely an inch of territory that doesn't get someone's tromping feet on it.
But I suppose I should back up. Because I drive across country sometime, giving Grandma a ride, and we look out at the fields and there aren't always tracks out there. Or the land up on the hill with the trees. Realize though that if you actually got there there'd have to be rabbit tracks, deer tracks, birds, and other things. It can't be as pure as it looks from the car.
The earth is made to be used. Footprints, snow angels, pee stains, rubbish blowing up against fences, other droppings and marks.
It's not just us. It's dinosaurs and lizards. They've all been through here.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Cheney
Dick Cheney was in the news today, saying that he disagreed with George Bush on not pardoning Scooter Libby. I don't have the exact quote but I saw the article, and also heard Keith O. talking about it in his intro.
It's funny the way people do Cheney impressions, like he sounds like the Penguin from Batman. Keith had one of those Monty Python cutouts of his mouth moving up and down, and with the Penguin voice it is very funny.
I'm not going to miss Cheney. I have no good feelings about the guy. But it's too bad he had to go out rolling around in a wheelchair at the inauguration. One of the commentators said it was an apt "metaphor" for the administration, or something, which I immediately turned off. No, Cheney in a wheelchair wasn't a metaphor, it was just a guy in a wheelchair who'd hurt his back.
He did look fairly metaphorical -- secretive, in his own undisclosed hideaway -- in his black clothes and black hat. It was like that Abramoff guy. We don't do black hats that much these days. We do have pictures of folks in top hats at the Inauguration back like 40 some years ago. But it appears those days are gone as things stand.
Well, I must sum up and get busy doing other things with my evening. So let me sum up: Good riddance to Cheney.
It's funny the way people do Cheney impressions, like he sounds like the Penguin from Batman. Keith had one of those Monty Python cutouts of his mouth moving up and down, and with the Penguin voice it is very funny.
I'm not going to miss Cheney. I have no good feelings about the guy. But it's too bad he had to go out rolling around in a wheelchair at the inauguration. One of the commentators said it was an apt "metaphor" for the administration, or something, which I immediately turned off. No, Cheney in a wheelchair wasn't a metaphor, it was just a guy in a wheelchair who'd hurt his back.
He did look fairly metaphorical -- secretive, in his own undisclosed hideaway -- in his black clothes and black hat. It was like that Abramoff guy. We don't do black hats that much these days. We do have pictures of folks in top hats at the Inauguration back like 40 some years ago. But it appears those days are gone as things stand.
Well, I must sum up and get busy doing other things with my evening. So let me sum up: Good riddance to Cheney.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Looking At Pictures
Some years ago I made a scan of 500 and some pictures from one of my Mom's old photo albums. The pictures were ones that Grandma took -- some of them. Others that other members of the family must have snapped, particularly the ones that had Grandma in them.
It's always interesting to look back and see these people, many of them dead now. (Except Grandma, of course.) That's what I'm thinking all the time when I look at them now, how many have passed on. Uncles, aunts, like my aunt that died in November or December. Cousins even. I have one cousin anyway who died.
I have another cousin -- who I haven't seen for years -- who had some serious trouble with the law. Some of his pictures are in those 537 scans. I look at him, all prim and proper in his suit and tie and think, something went wrong with him. Maybe it was destined in his upbringing. He was adopted into the family, my uncle seems like he might have been a strict kind of guy, my aunt maybe not the greatest. I really don't know. Maybe the uncle wasn't strict, maybe the aunt was the greatest. I'm just going by feelings, especially about the aunt, that I myself had growing up.
There are cousins I was especially close to, and that doesn't include this particular one. It's amazing to look back at them. Plus, when you make a scan, the picture comes up on the computer at about 3 times the original photo, so you can see a lot more detail.
It's always interesting to look back and see these people, many of them dead now. (Except Grandma, of course.) That's what I'm thinking all the time when I look at them now, how many have passed on. Uncles, aunts, like my aunt that died in November or December. Cousins even. I have one cousin anyway who died.
I have another cousin -- who I haven't seen for years -- who had some serious trouble with the law. Some of his pictures are in those 537 scans. I look at him, all prim and proper in his suit and tie and think, something went wrong with him. Maybe it was destined in his upbringing. He was adopted into the family, my uncle seems like he might have been a strict kind of guy, my aunt maybe not the greatest. I really don't know. Maybe the uncle wasn't strict, maybe the aunt was the greatest. I'm just going by feelings, especially about the aunt, that I myself had growing up.
There are cousins I was especially close to, and that doesn't include this particular one. It's amazing to look back at them. Plus, when you make a scan, the picture comes up on the computer at about 3 times the original photo, so you can see a lot more detail.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The Parade
That was one long parade, the inauguration.
If you count the time it took for President Obama to get from the Capitol to the reviewing stand, that alone ate up most of his first term. Then the bands and whatnot went on for some time, leaving everyone quite exhausted. The reviewing stand was pretty much empty by the end. I saw signs on the chairs for the Joint Chiefs of Staff, for their guests, and I don't know who all else. Obviously there was plenty of room there for me, if I happened to be in Washington, D.C., and was a also a trusted, security-cleared observer.
Unfortunately I was here at the half acre, tending to more local concerns, like getting Grandma her Cream of Wheat and making her comfortable in bed. We've had some cold weather, with the plastic puffed out on the windows, and it's been my big fear that gaps develop around that. But so far everything's holding. My responsibilities never end. It's a constant vigil, that and other home things. So I couldn't go to the White House.
It was nice seeing the whole ceremony today, though, with Mr. Obama and all the festivities. It was too bad Senator Kennedy got sick, and Senator Byrd. I know we have a good margin of Democratic senators over the Republicans, but if we lose two a day I don't think we can hold out that long. Two at the same meal! It might be worth checking to make sure the cooks weren't Republicans. It seems awfully suspicious that the cameras go out, two senators fall close to their death, then the cameras come back on and everything's back to normal.
As for all the activities, this is why President Obama works out all the time. Just making it through a typical day would kill anyone else.
If you count the time it took for President Obama to get from the Capitol to the reviewing stand, that alone ate up most of his first term. Then the bands and whatnot went on for some time, leaving everyone quite exhausted. The reviewing stand was pretty much empty by the end. I saw signs on the chairs for the Joint Chiefs of Staff, for their guests, and I don't know who all else. Obviously there was plenty of room there for me, if I happened to be in Washington, D.C., and was a also a trusted, security-cleared observer.
Unfortunately I was here at the half acre, tending to more local concerns, like getting Grandma her Cream of Wheat and making her comfortable in bed. We've had some cold weather, with the plastic puffed out on the windows, and it's been my big fear that gaps develop around that. But so far everything's holding. My responsibilities never end. It's a constant vigil, that and other home things. So I couldn't go to the White House.
It was nice seeing the whole ceremony today, though, with Mr. Obama and all the festivities. It was too bad Senator Kennedy got sick, and Senator Byrd. I know we have a good margin of Democratic senators over the Republicans, but if we lose two a day I don't think we can hold out that long. Two at the same meal! It might be worth checking to make sure the cooks weren't Republicans. It seems awfully suspicious that the cameras go out, two senators fall close to their death, then the cameras come back on and everything's back to normal.
As for all the activities, this is why President Obama works out all the time. Just making it through a typical day would kill anyone else.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Ritz Jenga
I saw a bizarre commercial today for Ritz Crackers. Some folks at a party had a stack of crackers on the table and were playing Jenga with it! But the ones I saw were doing it without any restraint, without trying to coax the cracker out. They were more like trying to whip a tablecloth out from under a bunch of dishes.
The first two succeeded and got their cracker out, with the stack intact, and rewarded themselves for their effort by eating the extracted cracker. The third guy went down low for his and the stack toppled, Ah!
Jenga is an interesting game, played with actual pieces and not crackers. It's nerve wracking and I'd rather watch others play it than play myself. But I've done it.
The other commercial I saw that was interesting was for Pepsi. They're keying in on the "Generation" theme again, running through the various generations with the dress and appearance people had through the last 50 or 60 years, of course drinking Pepsi out of the bottles and cans they had at the time.
Now Pepsi has a new, very modular, almost Obama-logo-like, logo. In fact there was another commercial, more graphics and letters, very mod like, spelling out things like "Yes We Can" and getting the new logo out there. It looks cool and refreshing. But I don't drink pop anymore, so it won't work on me.
The first two succeeded and got their cracker out, with the stack intact, and rewarded themselves for their effort by eating the extracted cracker. The third guy went down low for his and the stack toppled, Ah!
Jenga is an interesting game, played with actual pieces and not crackers. It's nerve wracking and I'd rather watch others play it than play myself. But I've done it.
The other commercial I saw that was interesting was for Pepsi. They're keying in on the "Generation" theme again, running through the various generations with the dress and appearance people had through the last 50 or 60 years, of course drinking Pepsi out of the bottles and cans they had at the time.
Now Pepsi has a new, very modular, almost Obama-logo-like, logo. In fact there was another commercial, more graphics and letters, very mod like, spelling out things like "Yes We Can" and getting the new logo out there. It looks cool and refreshing. But I don't drink pop anymore, so it won't work on me.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Hillbilly Talk
I used to fancy myself a hillbilly with hillbilly roots. I still have the roots, of course, but I'm now very sophisticated. I drink out of my own glass and use an inside toilet.
Still, my roots go down into the southern part of Missouri, to folks who lived back in the hills, made their own liquor, and married cousins. Really, I do believe I have (or have had) some distant cousins, each one blind, who had a whole houseful of kids, some of them blind, and it was a small house.
I like hillbilly talk, like jist for just and tarnation, plum tuckered out, and revenuers. I was thinking one day it'd be interesting to collect hillbilly stuff. I found a couple pieces used one day, a MAW and PAW matching coffee cups. The picture shows a bearded PAW in the outhouse (privy) with MAW calling, "Yer Coffee's Ready!" The other cup shows MAW working the field with a horse and plow, and PAW (no beard) sitting by the side of the house shouting, "Come Git Yer Coffee!"
Still, my roots go down into the southern part of Missouri, to folks who lived back in the hills, made their own liquor, and married cousins. Really, I do believe I have (or have had) some distant cousins, each one blind, who had a whole houseful of kids, some of them blind, and it was a small house.
I like hillbilly talk, like jist for just and tarnation, plum tuckered out, and revenuers. I was thinking one day it'd be interesting to collect hillbilly stuff. I found a couple pieces used one day, a MAW and PAW matching coffee cups. The picture shows a bearded PAW in the outhouse (privy) with MAW calling, "Yer Coffee's Ready!" The other cup shows MAW working the field with a horse and plow, and PAW (no beard) sitting by the side of the house shouting, "Come Git Yer Coffee!"
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The Secret Service
That must be weird, to have Secret Service protection all around you. Bomb sniffing dogs, sharpshooters on buildings, agents to the left and right of you, with your kids at school, etc.
But when you're president -- or even a presidential candidate -- that's your reality. Which I'm glad about, because there are plenty of nuts out there who'd love to hurt the president or the president-elect. Probably him especially, because of all the promise yet to come.
I've been to a couple political events where the Secret Service weren't so secret. It was nice to see them, all fit and trim, looking serious, at another level from the rest of us. I remember seeing the sharpshooters (my guess) up on the buildings at Independence, MO when Clinton was there. And the way they had a hold on John Kerry's belt from behind when he was in Sioux City. They could pull him down in a second if there was trouble.
Actually, I was at an Obama event, too, which I hadn't forgotten but it's not on my mind a lot. The Secret Service was there, and one of the agents told a guy standing behind me to keep his hands out of his pocket, sir.
They do a great job for the most part. Just a couple disasters -- JFK and Reagan -- in recent years. The incidences with Gerald Ford had happier endings. I'm just hoping they keep Barack Obama safe forever.
But when you're president -- or even a presidential candidate -- that's your reality. Which I'm glad about, because there are plenty of nuts out there who'd love to hurt the president or the president-elect. Probably him especially, because of all the promise yet to come.
I've been to a couple political events where the Secret Service weren't so secret. It was nice to see them, all fit and trim, looking serious, at another level from the rest of us. I remember seeing the sharpshooters (my guess) up on the buildings at Independence, MO when Clinton was there. And the way they had a hold on John Kerry's belt from behind when he was in Sioux City. They could pull him down in a second if there was trouble.
Actually, I was at an Obama event, too, which I hadn't forgotten but it's not on my mind a lot. The Secret Service was there, and one of the agents told a guy standing behind me to keep his hands out of his pocket, sir.
They do a great job for the most part. Just a couple disasters -- JFK and Reagan -- in recent years. The incidences with Gerald Ford had happier endings. I'm just hoping they keep Barack Obama safe forever.
Friday, January 16, 2009
The American Cancer Society
Is the American Cancer Society a legitimate and worthwhile charity?
We've all heard of it, of course, but still, who knows? It might be like the phony policemen who constantly call trying to sell lightbulbs. You wonder, how did these guys ever get in the lightbulb business? Then you realize, it goes way back, one of the first Associates program. Sell lightbulbs for an unrelated third party company and they'll give the police a dime for every dollar.
They do the same thing in school when your kids are selling stuff. Seeds, candy, maybe lightbulbs. The school gets a cut off each sale, making your kids kind of like taxpayers before their time. At least they're exploiting their labors for a bill the taxpayers ought to be footing.
We get all these calls from the police, I mentioned that. And what's the other big one? Oh, I had one from the Special Olympics the other day. "We're not selling anything. We are not asking for money," I don't know precisely what their pitch was. But it came down, I believe, to subscribing to a newsletter or magazine or something. "No, I don't care about it."
Now I have the Cancer Society on my case. I was watching American Idol and right at one terrible audition the phone rings. It's the Cancer Society guy. So I told him send me the stuff and I'd look at it. It might be a local guy. I gave to that once. He sounded amateurish enough to be local, and you know my feelings on "local guys." So today I get his mailing. Nothing local in the mailing, just a form donation sheet from the American Cancer Society, suggesting $20.
I'm thinking, what do I need with the Cancer Society? If I get cancer and die, well, I got cancer and died. I don't think we're going to cure every disease and live forever anyway ... at least in this world. So at some point, why don't we just accept it? We're going to die.
We've all heard of it, of course, but still, who knows? It might be like the phony policemen who constantly call trying to sell lightbulbs. You wonder, how did these guys ever get in the lightbulb business? Then you realize, it goes way back, one of the first Associates program. Sell lightbulbs for an unrelated third party company and they'll give the police a dime for every dollar.
They do the same thing in school when your kids are selling stuff. Seeds, candy, maybe lightbulbs. The school gets a cut off each sale, making your kids kind of like taxpayers before their time. At least they're exploiting their labors for a bill the taxpayers ought to be footing.
We get all these calls from the police, I mentioned that. And what's the other big one? Oh, I had one from the Special Olympics the other day. "We're not selling anything. We are not asking for money," I don't know precisely what their pitch was. But it came down, I believe, to subscribing to a newsletter or magazine or something. "No, I don't care about it."
Now I have the Cancer Society on my case. I was watching American Idol and right at one terrible audition the phone rings. It's the Cancer Society guy. So I told him send me the stuff and I'd look at it. It might be a local guy. I gave to that once. He sounded amateurish enough to be local, and you know my feelings on "local guys." So today I get his mailing. Nothing local in the mailing, just a form donation sheet from the American Cancer Society, suggesting $20.
I'm thinking, what do I need with the Cancer Society? If I get cancer and die, well, I got cancer and died. I don't think we're going to cure every disease and live forever anyway ... at least in this world. So at some point, why don't we just accept it? We're going to die.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
A Snow Fort
At the height of the blizzard the other day I kept seeing flash by the window a kid running. I just figured someone's rushing home, but I kept seeing it. Finally I decided to look out and make sure he was OK, since it was cold, windy, blustery, miserable.
He was over there digging a hole in a drift, which must have been a very hard bit of snow not to cave in on him. Why he was running by I don't know. That part's still a mystery. When I started looking he was crawling deep into it, pushing snow out.
It made me remember fondly some of our own childish antics from long ago, snow forts, snowball fights. I always had this one big thought as a kid that was never tested, although I think of it when I see coverage of avalanches on TV. My aunt's yard when down from the sidewalk, then back up to her house. I used to wonder, what if you were in that depressed part and suddenly snow covered you. Would you freeze to death, suffocate, or would you be able to push away some to allow yourself room to breathe, assuming air would show up from above? My own optimism in this thinking always had myself surviving easily, but I don't know now.
We used to make some snow houses, attempt an igloo type of structure, which is a lot harder to make than you'd guess, mostly though like this kid, digging a hole in a drift and crawling back there. If it caved in, no big disaster, except, I guess, the roof might weight 150 pounds.
At first I was thinking the kid should go in his house. The wind was crazy. But if he was comfortable doing it, it's all the same, good for him.
He was over there digging a hole in a drift, which must have been a very hard bit of snow not to cave in on him. Why he was running by I don't know. That part's still a mystery. When I started looking he was crawling deep into it, pushing snow out.
It made me remember fondly some of our own childish antics from long ago, snow forts, snowball fights. I always had this one big thought as a kid that was never tested, although I think of it when I see coverage of avalanches on TV. My aunt's yard when down from the sidewalk, then back up to her house. I used to wonder, what if you were in that depressed part and suddenly snow covered you. Would you freeze to death, suffocate, or would you be able to push away some to allow yourself room to breathe, assuming air would show up from above? My own optimism in this thinking always had myself surviving easily, but I don't know now.
We used to make some snow houses, attempt an igloo type of structure, which is a lot harder to make than you'd guess, mostly though like this kid, digging a hole in a drift and crawling back there. If it caved in, no big disaster, except, I guess, the roof might weight 150 pounds.
At first I was thinking the kid should go in his house. The wind was crazy. But if he was comfortable doing it, it's all the same, good for him.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
American Idol
One of the American Idol contestants tonight lives with her 93 year old grandmother.
And she made it through to the Hollywood round, too, which was amazing. Her occupation was listed as "caregiver," so whether that means for Grandma or caregiving in general, I don't know.
They showed her grandmother, needing a little extra volume from her granddaughter in talking to her. I can't remember much more about it.
I know my own experiences with Grandma Slump, though. It'd be nice if she could be a young 93 again. And there's no way I'd be able to leave her behind to go to Hollywood. Now I'm actually out of American Idol's age range -- being in my mid '50s. Of course were I to go on Idol -- let's say they raised the age limit -- I know I'd win. I'm one of those shower singers ... and friends tell me I'm pretty good. (OK, I don't actually have friends. But one time Cousin Roto told me I sang good. I did "At Calvary" at church with an electric guitar and nobody left.)
And she made it through to the Hollywood round, too, which was amazing. Her occupation was listed as "caregiver," so whether that means for Grandma or caregiving in general, I don't know.
They showed her grandmother, needing a little extra volume from her granddaughter in talking to her. I can't remember much more about it.
I know my own experiences with Grandma Slump, though. It'd be nice if she could be a young 93 again. And there's no way I'd be able to leave her behind to go to Hollywood. Now I'm actually out of American Idol's age range -- being in my mid '50s. Of course were I to go on Idol -- let's say they raised the age limit -- I know I'd win. I'm one of those shower singers ... and friends tell me I'm pretty good. (OK, I don't actually have friends. But one time Cousin Roto told me I sang good. I did "At Calvary" at church with an electric guitar and nobody left.)
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
107-Year-Old Wants To Marry
Grandma is 104, widowed, and seems to be happy. At least she never says anything directly about wishing suitors would come around. And because I'm hopeful of inheriting the property when she's gone, I'm not giving her any ideas.
But that doesn't mean I'm home free, not if this Chinese chick starts a trend!
According to this story, a certain Wang Guiying, 107 years old, wants to get married, if she can find the right fellow.
Her basic concern is that her relatives are also getting old and won't be able to take care of her. But the guy she's looking for will likely also be over 100. So what help he will be in this regard would be anyone's guess.
But that doesn't mean I'm home free, not if this Chinese chick starts a trend!
According to this story, a certain Wang Guiying, 107 years old, wants to get married, if she can find the right fellow.
"I'm already 107 and I still haven't got married," the Chongqing Commercial Times quoted her saying. "What will happen if I don't hurry up and find a husband?"
Her basic concern is that her relatives are also getting old and won't be able to take care of her. But the guy she's looking for will likely also be over 100. So what help he will be in this regard would be anyone's guess.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Our 78 rpm Records
I was going through some of Grandma's old 78 rpm records the other day and noticed that one of my all time favorites was broken. Boo!
It's by the biggest selling singer of a couple of Grandma's generations, Mr. Bing Crosby. And the song is called "I Didn't Slip, I Wasn't Pushed I Fell." This has to be one of my favorite Bing records and it doesn't seem to be such a hit as to appear on current hits compilations. But there it was, in two pieces, one bigger piece, one piece separated from the original whole. A nasty thing to have happen.
Really, it's too bad they made records back in those days the way they did. So breakable. You can't count on them. You go get one and five of them will be broken. Must be the shifting of molecules, or molecules retiring and going to live in a home.
I looked up this song. I know it's out there; there was a Chronological Bing Crosby collection a few years ago, maybe they're still putting it out, everything he did. They definitely don't have the song at Amazon or I Tunes. I think there's a Doris Day version.
I did some work on it, though, trying to salvage what I could, taping the broken piece back as best I could, then recording the results. Naturally there's a couple good sized clicks every time it goes around. But with a little work on the file, it's not as bad as it could be.
Someday I'll find another copy. I suppose I could check eBay, but haven't yet. That's a great song. Other great songs, just off the top of my head, from our collection: Ballerina, Galway Bay, A Hot Time In The Town of Berlin. One of these, maybe Ballerina, I didn't see last time I looked. Possibly broken and thrown out.
It's by the biggest selling singer of a couple of Grandma's generations, Mr. Bing Crosby. And the song is called "I Didn't Slip, I Wasn't Pushed I Fell." This has to be one of my favorite Bing records and it doesn't seem to be such a hit as to appear on current hits compilations. But there it was, in two pieces, one bigger piece, one piece separated from the original whole. A nasty thing to have happen.
Really, it's too bad they made records back in those days the way they did. So breakable. You can't count on them. You go get one and five of them will be broken. Must be the shifting of molecules, or molecules retiring and going to live in a home.
I looked up this song. I know it's out there; there was a Chronological Bing Crosby collection a few years ago, maybe they're still putting it out, everything he did. They definitely don't have the song at Amazon or I Tunes. I think there's a Doris Day version.
I did some work on it, though, trying to salvage what I could, taping the broken piece back as best I could, then recording the results. Naturally there's a couple good sized clicks every time it goes around. But with a little work on the file, it's not as bad as it could be.
Someday I'll find another copy. I suppose I could check eBay, but haven't yet. That's a great song. Other great songs, just off the top of my head, from our collection: Ballerina, Galway Bay, A Hot Time In The Town of Berlin. One of these, maybe Ballerina, I didn't see last time I looked. Possibly broken and thrown out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)