Road Trip Home

I am back in the Bluegrass. And boy howdy, is it cold! Who authorized this temperature?



My Honda car was jam packed full. The dogs shared the back seat while the luggage, cats, and everything you need to live for 3 months were in the back. It looked like the Joad's (you figure out the literary reference. 50 points if you do it without google.) were hitting the road again.



This was at the welcome center in Tennesee. 100 points if anyone can figure out what it is!

On the trip, I mostly listened to XM talk radio. I just can't get enough hearing about the gloom and doom of our future.

Anyway, one of the stations had a commercial with Dick Van Patten. The product was some kind of super joint healer type thing (I guess. I confess I didn't listen too closely) and the premise was that it works so well ole' Dick can play basketball again. After his spiel, you hear a ball being dribbled.

Hunh. You go guy. However I couldn't help but think that Dick is getting up there in years. So of course one of the first things I did when I got home was to go online and see just how old Dick the hoopster is.

80. That's right, eighty!


I came to the only possible conclusion. That if we all took this miracle product (whatever it was) we would all be able to play a mean game of radio b-ball. Who wants to be on my team?

The Upper Crust

I am still in South Carolina waiting out a winter storm. I guess Kentucky doesn't want me back yet.




While I am on the island, I live in an apartment complex. It is not a place I would normally be able to afford. It is also not a lifestyle I would typically embrace. I am not used to having my neighbors quite so close. I also can't seem to get comfortable with the aloof upper crust.

Perhaps that is because I don't have enough class. Like my next door neighbor. She is pretty classy. Now I can't say she is an alcoholic because I don't know her well enough, but I can swear beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is a drunk. She once confessed to me that she had to go 5 days without a glass of wine due to illness. It was very stressful for her.



The other night her very classy son came screaming into the parking lot in his expensive pickup. He jumped out of the truck and when he saw his mom and her high class boyfriend he started yelling.

"I've been drinking margaritas for hours now! Where have you guys been?"

They continued to engage in what must have been a gentile chat (because they are so upper class) at an incredibly loud volume. Some horrible swearing followed (actually made me blush and I have been known to outswear sailors!) and then they went into their condo where, from my apartment, it sounded like they were engaged in a falling down contest.

Yup. I am just too much the unwashed hordes to be able to fit in with the upper crust. And I think that is a good thing.

Go West Older Person

Moving. Not the most fun way to spend your weekend. Ah well, it will give me a chance to see the mountains. And feel the bone chilling cold. Yahoo!

Beginning later today, I won't have any access to the great internet so, once again the blogs will be on hiatus. I am hoping that it will be back to normal (hah!) for me on Tuesday, the 27th.


So don't forget me and have faith that I will be back to annoy the batcrap out of you soon.

No humor today.

I did not vote for him, I did not support him but I cannot deny the import of this inauguration. Seeing President Obama place his hand on Lincoln's bible and take the oath of office well, the history was overwhelming. I wish him all the best in these hard, hard times.

I love this country.

Ah, The Country Life

There are times I get up in the morning (okay, whenever!) and I have no idea what there is to write about that will give you a chuckle. Occasionally the universe conspires to give me the perfect solution.

When I am not on this island, I live in an area that has a heavy Mennonite/Amish population. I would guess they make up at least 20% of our county. It is not unusual to be driving down the road and come upon a buggy. On those curvy roads, rounding a corner at 50mph and suddenly discovering one in front of you, well, that will give you a heart attack in no time!





You don't often happen upon them at night. It's not that they can't be on the roads, they just aren't. If they must go out after dark, they have to put lights on the buggies.

The lights are high enough on the buggy that the first time I passed one I thought it was some kind of ufo. Imagine driving down a pitch black road and suddenly seeing lights hovering about 7' above you! Disconcerting.

Hmm. Apparently I am not the only person who has been startled by such a sight. On the topix site for my tiny town, this entry today;

'two buggies were going up the road and 0ne had blue lights on it. I didn't look back, but then I thought, is the one with the blue lights, the amish cops.' (all punctuation, etc. from the posting).

Amish cops!! Oh my, I about fell over laughing at that! I could just picture a 'high speed chase'! Or pulling someone over to write a ticket! Ha, ha, ha! Stop, you're killing me!

Oh universe, you were so kind to give me that one! Who could make that up?

But Wait...

I haven't deserted you! I simply went to the wilds of Ridgeland for the weekend. Where we watched lots of movies, ate some stellar KFC, and did too much of nothing.

I also added another blog; http://libertydailyphoto.blogspot.com/
There will be more to see on it once I get back to the Bluegrass. For now it will just be photos I have in my archives. I shamelessly stole the idea from many different web sites. Small town livin' at its finest!

So Monday I will be back here entertaining you with all the wit and wisdom I have at my disposal. Which, most times, is minimal!

Oldies but Goodies

I know these viral videos have been around for years (almost as long ago as when Al Gore invented the internet) but they still make me feel flat out joy every time I watch them. And who couldn't use a little more joy in their life?

So for those of you who have seen these a million times, watch anyway. You will remember how they made you smile. And still do.

Twilight Zone

I am sure I have mentioned that I am on Hilton Head. Land of 60 degree days and men in polo shirts, khaki shorts, and deck shoes. The women dress almost the same other than slacks and better shoes. It is as if a uniform is issued at the bridge before you get on the island.

I guess I passed the uniform station. It's really not my style. So 99% of the time, I look completely out of place here.

Today, I took special care with my appearance for a trip to the grocery store. By that I mean I combed my hair and actually put on a bit of make up. Other than those concessions to civility, it was a typical Korn hoodie, blue jeans, black fedora, blue fingernail, Nine Inch Nails tattoo kind of day.

Now you can see why I don't fit in.

Anyway, I got my cart and headed into Food Lion. I needed some fruit which made the first stop the produce section. Where the other shopper was a tall male with dreadlocks to his butt! I have rarely seen anyone like that on this island. I smiled, did the head nod, and continued on.

To the next aisle where I ran into a woman older than myself (holy!) who had magenta colored hair. And the next aisle where the young man in denim shorts, tattoos, and hat smiled and blew me a kiss.

The place was mystifying! It was definitely time to leave. Off to the register where the pretty, 6' tall, nose pierced cashier rang up my purchases.

The whole experience was so out of character for this place. I sat in the car for a few minutes to process what I had seen. It was as if I had stepped into some type of Misfit run circus. Home!

I drove out of the parking lot and discovered this on the side of the road.


Snow. In Hilton Head. In 60 degree weather. I'm telling ya', I could hear the Twilight Zone music!

Notes

I am a note person. Ideas, necessary grocery items, or something I have heard on the radio, I jot down for future reference. Being who I am however, I have no organization of said notes. I put them on whatever piece of paper that happens to be handy and hope that when I need them I will be able to find them. They are scattered all over the house.

95% of the time I can figure them out. 'Floride rinse, razors'. That's an easy one. A Walmart list. "Josey Scott, Velvet Goldmine'. That one is going to necessitate a search of my brain and possibly Google. Who knows what I was thinking?

The best is when someone else stumbles across them. That's what happened over the holidays when Fuchsia came to visit. She was sitting at my desk when she started reading what she assumed was a Christmas list.

"Front door, camellia, ornaments, fiery death crap boxes."

The look on her face was wonderful! I was laughing too hard to respond to her 'What kind of list is this?' query. The more she asked the more hilarious I found it. It took me several moments to catch my breath before I could answer.

The explanation is nowhere near as humorous as her reaction. The fiery death crap boxes was something I had heard on the radio and thought it deserved to be saved. By the look on Fuchsia's face, it was a good call.

Topix

I'm sure many of you are familiar with Topix. My perception of it is that it's a message board/gossip site. It plugs you into your neighborhood, complete with all its blemishes.

To access , type topix.com or topix.net into your address bar and you will be directed to the area closest to you. To further refine, type in the zip code of the area you are interested in. Once you sign up, you will always be directed to the area you chose.

Now that the technical talk is out of the way (as techie as I get anyway), onto the purpose of this post.

In our small town, people post items for sale, upcoming events, thank you's, etc. Since we are limited to a weekly newspaper, this helps keep us up to date.

Why else do we go? Because we are a curious folk. And if there is an accident, robbery, break in, any police call actually, the scanner junkies post it online ASAP. We want the dirt. This is our very own tabloid.

I am not passing judgement here. I love the site. What floors me is when someone will sign in, knowing what to expect, and then begin preaching about how horrible we are for accessing such a place.

Excuse me? Here's a thought. If we are slimeballs wallowing around in the depths of degradation and childish behavior it's because we like it. What is their justification?

One commenter stated they only read the entries to see who needs praying for. My suggestion was to pray for everyone. Then no one will have to dirty themselves by hanging with the rest of us sinners unless they want to.

And oh, they will want to. Why? Because we may be catty but we are also a whole lotta' fun to be around.

Periodicals

I subscribe to a plethora of magazines. Better Homes & Gardens, Country Home, Country, and Southern Living just to name a few. Every so many years my brain leaves my head and I subscribe to a totally inappropriate rag. Last years brain lapse was Victorian (who can live such a fussy lifestyle?).

This year it was Coastal Living. I believe my thinking was along the lines of I will be spending a great deal of time on an island so surely this magazine will have some relevancy. Hey, it made sense to me.

The first issue came. Oh look, a cute little cottage for rent. Hmm, turn to the page that has the info about rentals. A mere $10,000 a week. Need some new blankets for your bed? These twin size ones are only $850. For the summer lightweight. The menus? All seafood (go figure!) which is one step above cat food as far as I am concerned. Of the 10 issues I have received none of them had even a scrap of information that was useful to me.

Unless you are dying to know where you can get the fabulous blankets. I'll be glad to make a referral.

It's Review Time

Oh, I have been busy, busy, busy! I watched 2 movies and finished (finally!) the book I was reading. Now I'm sure you all are just dying to get my take on those things, so here we go;

I listen to a ton of conservative talk radio (No! Don't leave yet! I am still a Democrat!). Many times those shows deal with illegal immigration. You know, how illegals break the law the very first thing, we need to build a wall, etc. It is pretty easy to get caught up in those beliefs. Which is why I needed to see this movie. To refresh my perspective, to look from a different angle. And maybe, to make me cry a little bit.



Watch this movie. Even if the immigrant story does not move you, the drumming will. So good.

The book I finished? It is an older Dean Koontz, False Memory. The book took awhile to get going (okay, she is afraid of everything. I GET IT! Move on!) but when it finally achieved its momentum, it was worth the wait. The dialogue was not his wittiest but the twists, spirals, and g-force curves, made up for it. Kind of an updated Manchurian Candidate. That should pique your interest.

My daughter and I disagreed on this movie. She was annoyed that it wasn't exactly like the book but it had been so long since I read the book that it was like being exposed for the very first time. I think it is a very enjoyable young adult adventure/fable. Armored bears, daemons, and (drum roll please) Sam Elliot! It is always a treat to get to see (and hear) him.



All in all, a very nice way to spend a rainy Sunday afternoon. If you disagree with my assessments, please, let me know.

A Rant

I decided early on that my main goal in this blog was to be funny. Tonight I am veering away from that.

I have noticed more and more signs like the one copied above. At the nail salon ('Please watch your children due to the chemicals we use'), antique store ('Unattended children will be sold as slaves'), clothing store ('Unattended children will be given an espresso and a free puppy'), etc.

This bothers me on two totally different fronts. Believe it or not, one of the annoyances is the fact that shopkeepers have to use such rude signage. Why have we allowed the business who are counting on us for their cash inflow to become so crass? When did our civility fly out the window?

Of course, the answer to that is when we quit watching our own children and expected everyone around us to be their babysitter. Which is my other point. When did we give up on the notion that raising children is our job, our work? Being a babysitter is easy, just watch the little ones and keep them out of traffic. Being a parent is hard. Not only must you keep them alive but you also have to teach them. About traffic and manners and kindness and empathy. And if you choose not to do so, well then you deserve the caffeine laden child dragging the free puppy.

Hold On!

Holy! It was so windy today that I think I could have been blown to New York in 4 hours! I had to come off the island (nail emergency!) and I was a bit worried when I had to cross the bridges. I could just picture my little Honda flipping over the walls into the intercoastal waterway.

Luckily I made it to the wilds of Ridgeland and had my nail repaired at the salon (Phew!). So I guess I won't be going to Tundra Land for a while yet. Now if I can just get back onto the island tomorrow!

Nanny Duty

For the next few days, I will be babysitting South Carolina. Yes, it's true. The Bassman and Fuchsia are gone and Stacy, Ron, and Rachael are headed to Tundra Land for a surprise visit. The way I figure it, that leaves me in charge.

Every babysitter in the world has their own rules. It makes things easier to put the expectations on the table first thing so there will be no question of misbehavior. Here are mine for South Carolina;

A.) Smile. It is a fairly easy thing to do, cost nothing, and brings pleasure to others. If you wish to take this one step further (go at your own pace), add a head nod and a 'Hello'. Extra dessert for everyone who pulls this off.

B.) Tourists - if you don't know where you are going, pull off the road and read a map. If you have a gps and the map is not the issue, then learn how to read speed limit signs. Failure to do so will result in two weeks of no television.

C.) Locals - get off your high horses. Just because you have lived here for a year or two does not make you a Son or Daughter of the South. You are no better than the person who moved here this month. Straighten up. Natives (of which I believe there are approximately 6) are exempt from this.

D.) Bedtimes. I am flexible on this one. You can stay up late as long as you promise to not be cranky the next day. Oh yeah, and you must be considerate of the people who go to bed before you do. If you wake your neighbors, I am taking your internet away from you for a week.

E.) Messes. Pick up after yourself. Everywhere. Extra points if you pick up for someone else.

That's it. Simple and straightforward. Follow the rules while I am babysitting and at the end, I will take you to the movies! Or to a miniature golf course. Maybe even dinner in a restaurant.

Just not shopping.

Sigh

Today was the day. It was time to take down the Christmas decorations. I felt like that guy in the Verizon commercial. Kinda' sad. I hate trading all the beautiful colors of the holidays for the greys of winter. There ought to be some kind of law forbidding such things.

There was a bright spot though. It was such a sunny and warm day I decided to take Sid Notvicious to the dog park.

When we arrived there were more dogs than usual (I guess everybody was taking advantage of the 75 degree weather) but the majority of them were in the area for small dogs. Cruella would have probably preferred that area but that would have made the other owners nervous. Into the big dog area she went.

At first, everything went a-okay. She did the 'I want to play' crouch thing and the others responded. They tore around for a grand total of a minute and a half until one of the dogs snapped at her.



"Outta' here!"


It's a big responsibility owning such a killer animal.

(PS. Happy Birthday Bassman!)

A Marathon I Finished!

Ah, the holidays! We all do something out of the ordinary at this time of year. Some of us bake cookies, some work in soup kitchens, some play (SPOILER ALERT!) Santa. For me, this was my initial entry into the Olympic version of 'Outlet Shopping After Christmas'.



I am not a big shopper. For years my Christmas purchases involved many, many visits from the UPS man. Truth be told, even some of this years gifts came from the big brown truck.

But after Christmas, my father and his wife came down. Sandy is a multi-gold-medalist shopper. She finds the best bargains anywhere. Combine her with all the outlet malls around here and the itinerary was set!


Before we hit the outlets, we hit the mall in Savannah. Because that is where the nearest Hot Topic (every time I say that name I think of Jim Gaffigan with his 'Hot Pockets!') is which has the coolest baby clothes! Oh yeah, Spencer's has some great ones too (I can't wait to see the baby in her Roller Derby dress!).


Then it was off to Tanger. Let me tell you, we hit the shops. Big shops, little shops, consignment shops. Whatever kind of shop offered.



Three days. Three days of finding almost every bargain available in this neck of the woods.

I learned a lot during my apprenticeship at the feet of the master. The biggest lesson was this takes endurance. It is not for wussies. And for heavens sake, TRAIN FIRST!