Category: Retired Life

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ICRTD Hurricane Edition 2.0

What does one write about when one doesn’t know what to write about?

No, really, I’d like to know.

Ok, since I won’t really get an appropriate answer, at least not in a manner timely enough to write this particular post, how bout this?

MOAR HURRICANES!

Michael is currently making his way toward the Florida panhandle, and after landfall there, is due to come through central North Carolina.  Yay?  On the plus side, for me, this storm will have spent far more time over land than Florence did before getting by me, and it’s also (allegedly) a faster moving storm.  I’ve seen rainfall estimates of 1″-3″ and 3″-5″ depending on the specific track he takes, so either way it shouldn’t be horrible.  Again, I do this not looking for sympathy (or to give certain, unnamed people any Schadenfreude) but rather since I’m not above gloating about nice weather here I feel like it’s only fair for me to write about named storms cruising through my area.

Let’s see, what else do we have here?  Ok, how bout this?  I’m currently at my local coffeehouse, although, truth be told, it’s more like a restaurant that has baristas too, and can I just say Jesus it’s loud in here.  I mean I’ve got my headphones on, cranking out one of my favorite playlists and while my personal volume is moderate, I can still hear the dull roar of several dozen conversations rumbling in the background.  That’s no bueno.  At one point in the last year or two I considered opening up a coffeehouse as a retirement gig.  And then I realized that, you know, that’s kind of a lot of work and I don’t know that I really want to impose that on my retired ass.  Yet, it’s something this town sorely lacks, imho.  An actual coffeehouse.  I like this place, I do, the people are all very nice, and several of them now recognize me by my go-to order (large vanilla latté [or is it lattè?]  I checked Wikipedia and found both used…) which I really enjoy.  And there are three other places in town that call themselves coffeehouses; but one is in a chain book store, one is a former bar that doesn’t open until 10 in the morning and still has the pool table from its previous incarnation, and the third is small, dark, and dingy and not at all conducive to my caffeinated enjoyment.  And caffeinated enjoyment is not to be taken lightly.  In fact, I’m kind of tickled with that combination of words and you may well see it frequently from here on out.  Caffeinated enjoyment.  Kinda rolls right off the tongue, no?

I did stumble across a really nice place up in Greensboro, right downtown, that I really like.  The problem, although not a huge one, is that it takes me a little over thirty minutes to get there from here.  So it’s a pain, but not a deal breaker, at least for me.  And certainly not a big enough hassle to make me rethink my future as a small businessman.  Unless I hit the lotto tonight.  And since I’ll most likely forget to buy a ticket for it, I’d say the chance of winning is exponentially worse than if I did buy one.

Lastly (I think) I’ve got another trip home to Illinois coming up in a little over a week.  I’ll be gone from central NC for about a week with my trip split into two parts; a family wedding on the 20th and then a swing through Nashville for a concert.  My plan as of now is to leave #LillyNO with my realtor.  I didn’t really want to have to leave her locked up for such a long stretch during the wedding festivities and then also I didn’t really want to leave her penned up in a hotel room while I’m at the concert.  I know she’s fine at home for several hours, but if she barks the whole time she’s locked up (and I don’t know that she does, but if she did) in the hotel room, well, then she’s bothering a lot of people unnecessarily.  But still, the thought of her being somewhere else, no matter how well she’s cared for (and I know she’ll be well cared for there) kind of doesn’t sit well with me.  She’s going through a bit of a terrible two or threenager phase now and even though she is perfectly capable of producing short periods of time where she’s a total jerk, I still enjoy having her around and she’s still adorable AF, you know?  So I’ve got some contemplating to do.

I’ve also got some lawn care to do before Michael gets here, because apparently it’s against protocol to have a less than tidy lawn before a named storm blows in and dumps a bunch more leaves, acorns, and branches onto your yard.  Who knew?  Certainly not me.  But judging from the neighborhood activity the last couple of days, that’s the deal, so… I’m off.

Peace

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Catching Up

Well this one is going to be a little bit of the “hit to all fields” variety, since I know you all (see? still not saying “y’all” yet) are desperate to know what goes on down here…

I forgot to mention I have a new favorite town name thanks to my trip home from the concert that wasn’t.  Are you ready for it?

Shartlesville, PA.  No really, that’s the name of the town.  See?  I saw a tractor-trailer with that town name on it and literally lol’d while I was driving down the interstate.  How can you not love a name like that?  Ok, I’m occasionally fourteen years old, I admit it, but that’s still funny, I don’t care what you say.

Ok, back to today ish…

I picked up a hitchhiker the other day.  Driving home from the coffeehouse, traffic (and I use the term loosely) was stopped in front of me so I was moving, albeit slowly, when a gecko appeared on the hood of my truck.  I’m fairly certain it fell or dropped out of a tree above me, since they can’t, to my knowledge, fly  Granted I’m no geckologist (If that’s not a word I want props for it from here on out) and I can’t imagine it jumped up onto a moving vehicle (see previous disclaimer) and since my truck had been parked in the sun, the hood must have been hot as blazes.  It was only up there for ten or fifteen seconds before it scampered over to the passenger side front fender and I never saw it again.  It either bailed or took up residence somewhere in my truck.

Speaking of wildlife, it seems like every couple of weeks I see a bug I’ve never seen before and think “WTF IS THAT?!?!”  I tried to take a picture of the latest “wtf is that” bug before I smashed it, but couldn’t get close enough, because, again, WTF IS THAT?!?!  I did, however get close enough to smash that little s.o.b. with my shoe.  It took several attempts btw, but it’s now an ex-bug.  Thanks to the Google Machine (I typed in giant red and black ant btw) I learned it was one of these –    a Red Velvet Ant which is quite possibly the most diabolically deceptive name of anything ever.  For example, there’s this tidbit from Wikipedia – The Red Velvet Ant has multiple defensive strategies, but is best known for its painful sting, earning it the nickname “cow killer”.  That’s right, cow killer.  Now, if you know me IRL or if you’ve ever read any of this stuff up in here, you know my fondness for RVCB’s! (the exclamation point is due to my love for them, not because it’s the end of a sentence) so the fact that something named “Red Velvet” ANYTHING is capable of inducing such pain, well that’s kind of like a crime against humanity.  I mean seriously.  And to just kind of wrap this “wtf is that?!?!” thing up in a nice bow, the Red Velvet Ant isn’t even an ant, it’s a wasp.

Well, since I’ve stretched this one over a couple of days, and keeping with the theme, I figured I’d include a #LillyNO update.  In between working on this and trying to accomplish mundane household chores “someone” will occasionally bark at me rather impertinently.  This, I have learned, means I haven’t been paying enough attention to her, in her humble opinion.  Since few of the things I have on my agenda are time-sensitive (in case you haven’t heard, I’m retired) I’ll get down on the floor and play with her.  The toy choices are numerous and usually strewn across the floor of the kitchen and den like the detritus left behind by a bomb blast in, oh, perhaps (shout out to Roger Rabbit) Toontown.  Once #LillyNO determines which toy she wants to play with and, for the sake of discussion let’s say it’s the tattered remnants of Lamb Chop, she’ll bring the toy to me and after some small bit of convincing, release the toy.  I’ll throw it, fifteen or so feet, to the other end of the room and she’ll happily leap off after it, grab the toy and coming careening back towards me at a full gallop, almost always skidding into my side like Kramer entering Jerry’s apartment.  This goes on for anywhere from ten to twenty minutes before I can again focus my attention elsewhere.

I’m currently sitting at the coffeehouse, enjoying a lovely lattè (or is it latté?  I’m never sure which, but either way it’s delightful) looking at the clock to make sure I have enough time to A.) finish this and B.) run a couple of errands before I get back home to C.) go to another concert.  Gillian Welch is up tonight in Saxapahaw, NC.  I wrote about this venue earlier this year, I love it.  It’s such a cool vibe and it’s in what was once the Dying Room of an old cotton mill.  Should be a good show, and I’m really looking forward to it.  I can almost assure you though, it won’t be as much fun as the Family And Friends show I saw last week in Chapel Hill.  Holy crap those guys are great live and if you get the chance, I give it a strong recommendation.  They’re heading across the southern tier of the country and ending this tour on the west coast, so if you’re out by that way, watch for them.  You’ll thank me.

Ok, I think that’s about all I can squeeze in to this action-packed episode.

Peace

PS: Because, etc., etc.,  I always run spellcheck on these before I post them.  And, as if to prove I’m not ready to start dropping y’alls around here any time soon, I originally misspelled it…

Again, Peace

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The Best Laid Plans Of Mice And Men Often Go Awry

Hat tip to Robert Burns for the title.  You’re probably wondering if the post is going to relate to rodent infestation or not.  At least that was my point in starting it this way.  Plus I’ve got to start somehow and this seemed as good a way as any.

Regular readers may recall my last post wherein I mentioned I was going to Greenville, SC to see Brandi Carlile in concert.  I had a really pleasant drive over there, I stayed off the Interstate and chose two lane country, well, state roads, for the first half of the trip.  I find that by doing that I don’t get so focused on the destination and can instead enjoy the drive.  Excepting, of course, the random person that enjoys driving five to ten miles per hour below the speed limit through “No Passing” zones but that’s neither here nor there.  I got into Greenville a couple of hours before the doors opened, checked in to my hotel, and found a lovely restaurant around the corner where I dined al fresco.  Back to the hotel to freshen up, I glanced out the window of my room at the entrance to the venue, conveniently across the street from where I stayed, and thought to myself “there sure doesn’t seem like many people are waiting to get in.”

I finished getting ready and walked over to the show.  Or so I thought.  The crowd was still nonexistent.  Panicked, I checked my ticket.  Right date, right time.  I walked toward the door and was met by a pleasant young woman with a decidedly unpleasant job; telling people the concert had been cancelled that morning due to illness.

Sigh.

She helpfully suggested a bar a short walk away that was known for live music so I headed down the street.  Found the bar, and watched two old guys playing acoustic guitar, rocking out hits from the soft-rock catalog.  Poorly.  When the “singer” bolloxed the words to Steve Goodman’s “City of New Orleans” despite having them on his iPad (directly in front of his face) I figured my evening had hit its zenith and was now descending, rapidly.  Just to confirm the plunge I walked past a restaurant offering the entertainment of a young woman singing and accompanying herself on the electric guitar.  She sounded pretty good too, so I stopped to listen.  I hadn’t even found a place to sit when she came to the end of the song and, as it turns out, her evening, as she thanked the crowd and unplugged.

Again, sigh.

So let me just say this about that.  Brandi, if you read this (I have no reason to believe she will btw) I remain a huge fan and I can’t wait till you get back into a venue I can get to without too much travel hassle so I can experience your music live.  Because, well, you know…  Was I inconvenienced by driving four hours and putting money down on a hotel room it turns out I didn’t need?  Sure.  But on the plus side, I wasn’t the one that had to spend the evening, or really any amount of time, dealing with a stomach virus.  And the thought of spending time that close to porcelain isn’t something I look forward to.  So Brandi, I hope you feel better quickly.  As for me?  You pays your money and you takes your chance, right?  This is the first concert I’ve had shot out from under me, so what are the odds it happens again?  I’ll even get a chance to test my luck tonight when I drive to Chapel Hill for a show.  Family and Friends is up and to prepare for the show I’ve been listening to their album Felix Culpa steadily for the last few days.  I heartily recommend it btw.  I linked one of their videos in the last post, but only one of you took advantage.  The rest of you don’t know what you’re missing.

Speaking of missing (hey my segues are nothing if not smooth)  I just found out a good friend of mine and a strong advocate for our union is getting himself promoted out of his bargaining unit.  I’m not sure it’s public knowledge yet, so I won’t name names, but I do want to say a couple things.  I’ll miss you at the conferences, and especially at the after conference conferences, if you know what I mean.  You have been a staunch supporter and a dogged defender of union firefighters and paramedics, not just across Illinois, but across our great nation.  People on this job generations from now will reap benefits from the battles you’ve fought.  As will the taxpayers they protect.  You’re a good man, and a better friend.  I’m proud of you and I’m happy for you.  I can’t be there for your promotional ceremony,  but I’ll be thinking about you, and I know you’ll do a great job in your new role.  Congrats my brother.

Of course none of these things I just said will stop me from throwing stones in your general direction given half a chance.  And I know you expect nothing less.

Peace

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Without Music, Life Would Be A Mistake

There’s some Nietzsche for ya to start your day.  I was looking for something catchy to title this one so I GTS’d music quotes and it leapt off the screen right into my face.  I’m feeling music-y because I’m heading out today to Greenville to see Brandi Carlile, btw, I have an extra ticket so if you can make it to Greenville, SC by showtime tonight, I’ll hook you up.

I’m heading into a really nice stretch of concerts.  Actually, it started a couple of weekends ago when I met Tom and Mike in Chattanooga for the Moon River Music Festival.  I wrote a little bit about that weekend in the last post, but didn’t really get into the music part of it.  By the time we (and several thousand other attendees) made it through security and into the venue, the first band of the weekend was wrapping up.  We walked across the park to catch, what would soon become obvious to us, their last song.  I remember at one point Tom and I looked at each other with a kinda “wtf did we just miss?” look on our faces.  Just really incredible energy from the band.  The name of the band is Family and Friends and I was so intrigued by that small taste that when I saw they were playing in Chapel Hill, about an hour from me, I bought a ticket to the show.  That’s coming up Saturday night and if the tidbit we caught at the MRF is any indication, it should be a great show.  Then next week I’ve got a ticket to see Gillian Welch in Saxapahaw, also about an hour from me.  Tbh, I’ve never really listened to a lot of her music, but I’ve always heard rave reviews so I decided to go check it out in person since live music, as we (h/t to the fabulous Amy) now know, is better live.

The highlight for October’s concert events is coming up on the 23rd.  I’m going to Nashville with Tom to see Jason Isbell at the Ryman Auditorium.  I hadn’t planned on seeing Isbell since I’ve seen him a bunch the last couple years but when I saw tickets go on sale for the Ryman I figured that was something I wanted to see.  Such an amazing venue, filled with musical history, I couldn’t pass it up.  Plus it gives me an excuse to eat at Monell’s so, win, right?

I hit a bit of a lull until the end of November, although I’ll keep scanning area concerts to see if anything interesting pops up.  On the 30th I’m going to Durham to see Mike Cooley from the Drive By Truckers do a solo show and then five days later I go to Charlotte to see Patterson Hood, also from DBT, do his solo show.  The band isn’t touring at that point in the year, so they bust out some one-man shows.  Imma take advantage, cause that’s the kinda guy I am.

Tickets haven’t gone on sale yet, but Warren Haynes does an annual benefit show in Asheville called Christmas Jam with a star-studded lineup.  Now, to be fair, I’ve put a bunch of links (sorry if you hit ads too) in this post, so if you don’t check them all out, well you’re missing some great tunes, but if you only click on one, make it that last one.  It describes the reason for the Jam and it’ll warm the cockles of your heart and as I’ve said here before, who doesn’t like warmed cockles?  I’d like to catch that one.  Also, the aforementioned Drive By Truckers do an annual set of Homecoming shows in their hometown Athens, GA in February that I’d like get to.  If any of you are interested/available, for either of the shows, let me know so I can get tickets once they go on sale.  Also, I see the Avett Brothers have a New Years Eve gig in Charlotte, that’s a definite possibility as they were just outstanding at the MRF.  That was the first time I’d ever seen them and they put on a great show.  Their link fwiw goes to a song of theirs that just got added to the list I want played at my memorial service.  Morbid thought?  Maybe.  But I decided I want go out with good music.  So I’ve got that going for me… which is nice.

Ok, I just looked at the clock and I’m starting to get short on time.  I’ve got to run a couple of errands before I hit the road for Greenville, including, but not limited to, taking #LillyNO for a walk downtown to socialize.

See you at the rock show.

Peace

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This one goes to 11

Welp, this has taken me entirely too long to get to.  I was actually a little embarrassed when I checked the site the other day to see when my last posts had been (quite a while back) and I’ve had a busy last month or so.  As a consequence, I have much to write about.  I promise not to get too wordy here though.

Kinda…

I’ve got Tom Petty blaring at me whilst I work on this, it’s a holiday weekend Saturday morning, and life, on the whole, is pretty good.  Let’s get started.

I drove back to Illinois for an extended visit last month.  And I’ve already got to back up a wee bit; my travel weekend started with a trip about three hours southwest of me to Greenville, SC for a concert.  Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit with Richard Thompson as the opener.  Great.  Concert.  My hotel was literally across the street from the venue, which was kinda sweet in and of itself, but the show was just stellar.  I’ve been a Thompson fan for over thirty years and he’s an amazing musician.  If you’re not familiar, I highly recommend checking out his music.

The morning after the concert I headed north, and, as I’d intimated earlier, I split the trip into two days.  Pretty unremarkable journey home.  That’s a good thing, btw.  Especially if you’ve read any of my previous travel foibles.  You have, right?

My time in Illinois was spent with family, splitting my time between the homes of the Oldest One and the Quiet Child, but I spent time with all the kids and littles and it was delightful.  A lot of baseball games and softball games were watched and, by and large, thoroughly enjoyed.  I even got the see the Heir To The Throne hit his first high school home run, which was cool AF.

In addition to hanging with friends and family around home, I went to Springfield with nine other members of Local 3234 (our largest contingent ever!) for the state Legislative Conference.  So I got to hang with firefighter friends/union activists from across Illinois.  Spent a little quality time with some of the elected officials there, including a couple of after-hours gatherings in local watering holes.

Sorry, no stories will come from those escapades…

I got to hang out with the guys in the high-rise district for breakfast one Sunday (one of the best experiences of firehouse life), saw several friends and relatives for coffee (not all at once), I also swung by the cemetery to “chat” with Diane and Caitlin.  To be sure, there were several people (you know who you are) I had intended to get together with, that, for one reason or another was unable to, but there will be other trips home and I’m hopeful scheduling will be a little smoother.

The visit wrapped up with the 11th birthday of the Reigning Princess, which is where this pic was taken.  I can’t believe how big these guys are getting.  Pretty handsome group, no?  Speaking of time flying, when did I turn into an old man?  That’s a rhetorical question, btw, no comments necessary.

Just sayin’

I hit the road before 5:00 AM last Monday to head back to central North Carolina.  I guess karma was in my corner after the whole Memphis excursion, as this was also a really smooth trip.  The only time I used my favorite twelve letter word was to thank a fellow motorist, one with Wyoming plates on his car, for moving out of my way, allowing me to pass him easily.  I threw out the Bruce Willis line from Die Hard, you know the one.  I felt like it was appropriate given where he was from, you know, cowboys and all.   One of the high points was a lunch stop at the Bob (don’t hate, I like it) Evans restaurant in Chillicothe, OH.

Considering the rest of the clientele, I’m guessing the median age to have been 83. #83Nation.  There was also a bonus sighting of what I believe may have been the love child of auto huckster Bob Rohrman and novelist Steven King.  Yikes.  To make my lunchtime people watching even more interesting, I’m fairly certain there was a carny convention or something in town.  Again, Yikes.  But the blueberry pancakes were just the thing to get me to my next stop, one I plan for every trip between IL and NC, Beckley, WV.  I’ve never gone through the town itself, but I think it’s similar to Asheville, NC in that it is filled with artisans and has a kind of hippy vibe to it.  The rest stop/tourist center is filled with all kinds of locally made craft-y type stuff.  Blown glass, pottery, sculptures in both wood and metal and actually really good food.  If you’re ever traveling through West Virgina on either I-64 or I-77 you must stop and check it out.  Trust me.

Finally, from the “out of the mouths of babes” file, I’d like to quote the grandchild formerly known as Beatle Baby (he’s 6 years old already, I guess I’ve got to come up with a new nom de plume for him) “Grandpa Joe, you live far away.”

Yes, yes I do.  Smooth trip or not, it’s a long day on the road and I was glad to be home.  Let’s see what kind of nonsense comes my way so I can share it with you here.  But in the meantime, I’m going to head out to the shed and see what I can accomplish…

Peace

PS- what with the holiday weekend and all, I want to leave you with a PSA of sorts.  No, not my usual entreaty to not drink and drive, although, obvs.  Instead I’d like to ask you to take a minute to remember why this holiday exists.  Quite literally, thousands have given their lives to allow us the freedoms we take for granted today.  Let’s do our part to honor their memories and, to quote Labor Activist Mother Jones “Pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living.”

Again, Peace

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Road Trips

Well, I had fully intended to do this yesterday, but adulting got in the way, as it is wont to do from time-to-time.  And in the true spirit of the subtitle to this blog “where I write things about stuff” I’m going to hit to all fields today.  Well from left-center to right-center, at least.

Since I’ve got my hyphen quota out-of-the-way…

Wait, one quick side note here.  I love adjectives.  And I love the storytelling aspect of writing.  Sometimes, when I come across a particularly beautiful piece of the art, I feel compelled to share it and I want to put this in here.  Background on it is this; William Nack was a sportswriter for Sports Illustrated for 23 years, covering, among other things, the career of Secretariat.  He passed away last week at the age of 77 after a fight with cancer.  For the uninitiated, Secretariat was (imho) the greatest athlete of all time.  As I read some of Mr. Nack’s stories, this line in his tribute to an amazing horse stood out to me.

“Oh, I knew all the stories, knew them well, had crushed and rolled them in my hand until their quaint musk lay in the saddle of my palm.”

It’s one of those lines that makes me want to write forever, the image it projects in my mind’s eye.  The article itself is a long read, but it’s stunning in it’s beauty, an homage to a greatness seldom seen and I highly recommend making the time to read it.

To the trip.

I left Memphis Sunday morning, heading back to central North Carolina.  I’d gone there for a concert and a little touristing, more about both later.  The impetus for this post was the trip from Hell.  Not really, but Sunday was one long ass day behind the windshield, let me tell you.  No, really, that’s why I’m doing this.

I got on the road about 8:00 AM central time and according to the GPS it was going to be about a ten-hour drive.  That’s about what it took me to get there on Thursday, so I had no reason to doubt it.  I knew there was a storm out ahead of me, but I was hopeful I could stay behind it.

Ha!

The first thing that jumped out at me (not literally) was the number of highway patrol cars out on the interstate, running radar.  And reaping the benefits of their actions.  I’m not sure why, other than the easy pickings due to the quantity of drivers with a heavy right foot.  I’m sure the Tennessee state coffers were enriched significantly that day.  If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they had a quota to meet too.  But, according to my friends with stars on their chests, ticket quotas (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, know what I mean?) don’t exist…

I saw not less than eight officers in the first hundred miles moving east from Memphis.  I need to note here that none of them carried my name in their ticket book, so, that’s a win.  And, despite the need to monitor their presence, I was making good time.  Outstanding time, in fact.  I felt like I may have been able to shave at least a half hour off my travel time.

Until I caught the aforementioned weather.  About half way through Tennessee.  And can I just say that Tennessee is one wide damn state.  I mean, really.  Roughly 450 miles from Memphis to the North Carolina border on I-40 in case you were wondering.  As you might imagine (go ahead, imagine away) this length of trip, sharing the roadway with throngs of others, each with their own places to go (and a variety of urgencies to get there) may elicit an occassional bad word from yours truly.  By my count, a rough guess, but it’s still mine, I used my favorite twelve letter word (rhymes with “brother trucker”)  a minimum of 27 times.  This may surprise you, but I’m quite certain that if you ask the Oldest One or the Boy Child, they will confirm that is a reasonable estimate.  When they were much younger we would have to drive through downtown St. Charles fairly often and they learned some creative and colorful language earlier than they probably should have thanks to my reaction to the other drivers there.

It was somewhere east of Nashville, maybe an hour or so east, where I caught up with the rain.  An inconvenience perhaps, but not that big of a deal.  I had gained considerable time, so I really wasn’t all that bothered.  Until I got closer to Knoxville and hit a traffic jam.  About ten miles worth of a traffic jam.  That took me over an hour to get through.  So much for early arrival.  I thought I’d seen a sign as I approached the backup, something about a wreck ahead, but if that was the case it had long since been cleared up by the time I got through it.  Things flowed well for about an hour when, approaching the border, Tennessee traffic gave me one last body cavity search and for no apparent reason I hit another traffic jam in excess of thirty minutes.  Into North Carolina the rain picked up in frequency and intensity.  I made it into Asheville for fuel and coffee and figured I’d be home in three hours or so.

Again, Ha!

Figuring 8:30 for my eta home, an eleven hour plus trip was not ideal, especially the way it started out, but I was ok with it.  The volume of traffic had lightened considerably and the rain had pretty much stopped so things weren’t too bad.  Until I got near my exit.  Brief explanation, there are approximately 47 exits labeled route 64 on this stretch of I-40.  Ok, that’s not exactly accurate, but there are three plus one exit marked for the town of Mocksville, which is the first town I pass through on the way from I-40 to my home.  I, of course, chose the wrong one.  The best part of that choice was that I didn’t realize how route 64 curves.  When I choose the correct exit, I turn right to head home.  As I came up the exit ramp I realized I should have gone five more miles to the next exit.  But I had seen a sign advising another (#*@#*%) traffic jam and thought I’d stay on 64.

I turned right.

I should’ve turned left.

I was almost eight miles down the road when I saw I was heading west.  Pro tip, my home was east of me.  I turned around headed back to the interstate.  With callous disregard for a potential traffic jam I drove east on I-40 and made it to the correct exit.  Not a brake light in sight btw.  Insert eye roll emoji >here<.  Coming in to Mocksville I came up behind someone with an aversion to the speed limit.  And not in a good way.  What do you call someone who consistently drives 10-15 mph below the speed limit?  I call it the car in front of me.

I finally pulled in the driveway a couple of minutes after 9:00 PM.

This has caused me to rethink my trip home next weekend.  Not making it, I’ll still be in Illinois for an extended stay, but rather this; it’s a 14 hour drive under good circumstances.  I’m chopping that sucker into more manageable bites.

I don’t think my vocabulary is ready for another all day road trip.

Peace

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Leadership. And Lack Of Same. Oh Yeah, Bonus Weather Update Too…

The good news is; the ground is too warm and it’s melting as soon as it hits.  The bad news is; it’s snowing again in central North Carolina.  I know some will take joy at those last two sentences, you know who you are, (wtf indeed) but I figure since I have, on occasion, weather shamed here, I’ve got to own up to the shite weather too so…

This one has percolated far too long so I’m just gonna move on and let it go where it may cause I need to post something for chrissakes.  Bear in mind the timeline is a wee bit off, but still.

Before I get to the titular topic, I’m gonna drop some, well I wouldn’t exactly call it filler, but rather, the events of my last few days.

As I mentioned at the end of my last post, I’m (*timeline alert*) currently traveling via Amtrak back to North Carolina from Washington D.C. where several hundred union firefighters met with our elected officials to promote legislation to try to improve working conditions, health, and safety or firefighters across the country.  It’s an annual pilgrimage where, in addition to fighting the “good fight” we also get the chance to catch up with our brothers and sisters from across the country.

Let me amend something from the previous paragraph… Due to track work, we’re currently crawling through Richmond, VA on the way back to NC.  Grand scheme of things it’s not that big of a deal, it’s not like I have any plans this evening so it really doesn’t matter if I get back later than I planned.  Just an inconvenience.  Over all, I’ve really enjoyed this trip to and from D.C. and I’ll definitely look for more trips to take by rail in the future.

As with air travel, you cross paths with a unique cross-section of America when you use mass transit.  For instance –

I witnessed one of the more unique drink combinations ever on that same leg of the trip.  The woman sitting next to me for a couple of hours ordered, and I swear to you I’m taking no literary license with this; a hot tea with 2 creamers, 2 honey packets, 4 Splenda, and 2 sugars.  Again, I’m not even joking.  Talk about diversification of your sugar portfolio (h/t to Kent for that line btw)

Also, I continue to be amazed at the attire some people choose for their travels.  Again, no throwing of stones intended, and I get it that you choose comfort over almost anything else, but what part of your brain says it’s ok to wear, essentially, pajamas on public mass transportation?  And if you’re that committed to comfort, why not go all the way and leave the gym shoes at home?  Slippers would be the perfect match to your jammies, no?

Now that I’ve got that out-of-the-way, let’s talk about Leaders.

Leaders lead.  It’s what they do, which makes for an easy way to title them.  Leaders, when they no longer lead, are, imho, no longer leaders.  I can point, with relative ease, to an example that hits close to home for me and also for many of my regular readers.  My union.  Not at the local level and not at the state level.  Those two groups are both blessed with dedicated, hard-working, responsive, and responsible leadership.

Not so much at the national level.

Throughout the entirety of my career in the fire service, I was taught that leaders lead.  They decide things.  Sometimes they are faced with two or more awful options and must choose the most palatable.  Or the least offensive.  And they need to prepare, both themselves and those for whom they’re charged with advocating, for whatever outcome their decision elicits.  That’s what leaders do.  They don’t “sit one out” they choose.  If they get pushback from the rank and file, they explain their rationale.

I may have mentioned this here at some point over the last couple years, but I feel strongly enough about this that, frankly, I don’t care and I’ll gladly repeat myself.  Without getting too much into my personal politics (and if you spend any time here, you probably know what way I lean) in the build up to the 2016 election, my union chose not to endorse anyone.  Neither candidate.  In my time in this great union, I have been told, countless times – “we support those that support us, regardless of whether their name has a ‘D’ or ‘R’ after it.” and I have taken that very phrase back to my local as well as at numerous meetings across the state of Illinois as a member of our Labor History committee.  And I believed those words.  They were important to me.  I know a lot of guys on-the-job that are far more conservative than I am.  And that’s fine.  I respect your right to an opposing opinion on many topics.  But, to me, the opinion that outweighs them all is this one.  Does a candidate or an incumbent politician support my position as a member of Organized Labor?  That’s the one that gets my vote.

You know what?  I can’t even finish on this leadership (or lack of same) rant.  It’s frickin’ SNOWING here.  In North Carolina.  On March 21st.  The day after the Vernal Equinox.  Sure it’ll get “up” into the mid 40’s today but come on.

Sigh.

Peace.

PS – As I wrote here I was asked to contribute a regular column at the official retired guy magazine for the Illinois Association of Retired Firefighters.  I was, of course, thrilled at the offer.  I also felt like they should get some kind of exclusivity so I declined to post that column here.  However, since the newest edition is currently going to press (sounds so official doesn’t it?) I figure it’s probably ok to share my pearls of wisdom *snark* here now.  So that’ll be coming up in a couple days…

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It’s A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

Apologies to Fred Rogers, but I liked the sound of that title.

I may have alluded to this in earlier posts but, despite a recent downturn in temperatures here this past week, to my mind, Spring has sprung here in central North Carolina.  This, btw, works for me.  The oak trees haven’t started to bud yet, but a good number of plants in the neighborhood have started budding if not actually blooming as evidenced by this arrangement made from the neighbors Magnolia Bush – 

Lovely, no?  In addition to the Magnolia, which btw has an incredibly short bloom life, I’ve got a Camellia in my back yard that is also producing blooms like crazy – but in a tech flashback to a couple of months ago, I’m unable to share the picture with you.  Trust me, it’s beautiful… (expletive deleted WordPress…)

Here’s another thing I like the sound (kind of a rocky segue, I know, but whatevs.) of… this bird and if anyone can tell me what kind of bird it is, I’d appreciate it.  I’m not John J. Audubon-y enough to look it up, but I’m a little curious what kind of bird serenades me most mornings while I drink my coffee in the carport.  I’ve played this clip back for the birds sometimes, usually getting a response from him (her?) so far without getting dive-bombed as an interloper attempting to take over the little guys territory.  Although I must say I get a kick out of him (I’m pretty sure it’s a him, since I vaguely recall from somewhere that only male birds sing, either for prospective mates or to mark out boundaries) peeking between the branches of the not-yet-leafed-out bush he sits in to see where/who the other bird is.

But wait, there’s more from the This Week In Nature file…

Do female Robins look exactly like male Robins?  There’s a couple that frequent the neighbors back yard that are either –

A.) In a running territorial pissing match or

B.) in the build-up to an avian mating ritual

I can’t tell which.  They seem to stay in pretty close proximity to each other, hopping around the yard looking for worms.  If one flies up to the roof, the other isn’t far behind and usually lands within a few feet of the first or occasionally on a higher part of the roof.  I’ve even seen them tangle mid-air in a flurry of flapping wings and tangled feet that lasts as long as thirty seconds, rising up to fifteen feet or so in the air and falling almost to the ground before they disengage and land, again, within a few feet of each other.  That inability to differentiate between courtship and combat probably speaks to my inability to maintain long-term relationships as much as it does to my lack of bird knowledge fwiw.

Just sayin.

I’m gonna leave this one shortish, I’m currently on Amtrak headed back to North Carolina.  Since I’ll be relatively captive here on the train for another five hours or so, I’m going to try and use some of the time productively ish and recap my last few days.

Here goes nuthin’

Peace

 

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Hey Siri…

So, since we all can agree that, to quote a very wise woman, live music is better live, I saw some the other night.  Live music that is.  A band by the name of Devil Makes Three (h/t to McG) was playing at venue about an hour from me called the Haw River Ballroom.  Great place btw, in the dye room of an old cotton mill, and somewhere I’ll definitely keep on  my watch list for future concerts.  The concert was pretty great as both acts put out excellent vibes.  The openers have, quite possibly, the longest name of any touring band – The Huntress and Holder of Hands – but they were really quite good.  One of the songs that stuck with me, actually more than anything the headliners did, was a cover of a wonderful Cranberries song that kind of slid out of my memory.  Just a really nice night.

Now the town this place is in is pretty small, about 1,600 people, and I’d never heard of Saxapahaw, NC before so I pulled it up when Mike first mentioned the band to me.  Looked pretty simple to get to, a couple state highways and only a few turns.  Piece of cake.  However.  Since I’m still pretty new out here, if I go anywhere other than Asheboro itself, I typically punch the address into a map app just to make sure I don’t miss a turn or something.  I’ve always been pretty good with directions but why mess around, right?  So I got in the car, typed in the destination and took a look before I headed east.  I looked at the map and noticed right away it was different from what I had pictured in my head.  Pretty much straight-line diagonal from my house to the venue and I thought from looking at the map that I would need to backtrack slightly to get there.

Now, if your history with Siri is anything like mine, you’d appreciate the sense of trepidation I felt right there.  I thought I’d already shared my Siri-induced misadventure on my way out here, but I just checked and apparently I haven’t.

Yet.

I got around Winston-Salem and had been going Siri-less for several hours since I had been out this way a few times and was fairly confident I could find my way to the hotel in Asheboro.  Until I caught a detour.  Since I was driving and didn’t want to pull over (an obvious sign of weakness *snark*) I said to myself “I have a smartphone, I can just talk to Siri and she’ll give me directions to my hotel.”

BAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I received directions to a hotel in Lexington, KY.  Several times.  I also received directions to a Waffle House in Burlington, NC.  More than once.  I received directions to so many different places and never less than sixty miles from where I wanted to be.  This, as you may imagine, displeased me.  Especially so close to the end of 14 hour drive from northern Illinois.  Fun fact.  Did you know that launching a profanity-laced tirade at Siri will cause her to, not unlike an actual human being, shut down?  She has a particular dislike for being called a word that rhymes with “brotherclucker” fwiw.  I think Apple missed the boat in not pointing out that attribute.  She’s so lifelike!

Needless to say, I finally pulled over and typed in the address to my hotel, arriving without further Siri-related incident about 45 minutes later.

So there was a brief hesitation as I left the house under Siri’s guidance.  I drove through, what I assume was a pretty bucolic part of the state.  And I’m not throwing stones with that, I mean after all I grew up in the Greater Burlington Metropolitan area (*more snark*) but since it was, you know, dark, I couldn’t really tell.  Also the two-lane, curvy, country roads were not conducive to the wandering driving eye I picked up from riding in a car with my Dad during my formative years.  All in know is, on the way home I saw, probably fewer than five cars, until I got back on the state highway about 30 miles later.

All in all it was an outstanding way to spend a Thursday evening.  The next concert on the books isn’t until April, I’m gonna have to work on something before that.

Time to search the interwebz!

Peace.

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Snowmageddon 2018

It started snowing about 7:00 this morning here, as I write this we’ve gotten about 2″ and I think we might get a couple more before it’s done.  Everything is shut down, or at the very least, delayed in opening.  The crawler on the news last night was chock full of closures, based on the likelihood of snowfall today.  I got an email from the YMCA last night advising they wouldn’t open until 1:00 this afternoon instead of at 5:00 AM as usual.  The street I live on isn’t terribly busy, but I’ve heard almost no one driving by, certainly less than a normal day.  I was just thinking, if I was in Illinois I’d probably grab the shovel and at least make the first run at removal before it piles up too deep.  Here, on the other hand, our forecast is for temperatures in the 40’s tomorrow and the 60’s by the weekend.  And I’m perfectly content to let Mother Nature take care of her own mess.  I’ll probably throw some salt on the front steps/porch so the mailman doesn’t slip, but that’s going to be the extent of my snow removal.

**UPDATE**  A follow-up email from the Y came in moments ago with the notice that they will be closed all day today and reopen at 8:00 tomorrow morning.  Insert wide-eyed emoji >here<

Now, this storm tracked across parts of the U.S. of A. that typically don’t get snow.  Including southern Arkansas which btw is home to my friend and internationally renowned podcaster, Seth.  I bring that up because I got a phone call from Seth Monday, the day before Snowmageddon 2018 was due to hit his little corner of the world.  He said that, while he wasn’t on shift, he had been in town and had gotten a phone call from his daughter to let him know they were out of milk and asking him to pick some up on his way home.

Pretty mundane request, right?

Not in the context of Snowmageddon 2018 (brief editorial note- I highly recommend reading “Snowmageddon 2018” in the deepest, most authoritarian voice you can conjure up in your head.  Try it, it’s awesome and if you can add in some “Breaking News” music as a backdrop in your head it’s even more amazing) which, apparently by default, includes undercurrents of chaos.  Seth told me when he got to the grocery store, not only was the parking lot so packed he had to park across the street and walk over, but the only milk left in the store was those little single-serve size bottles.

**UPDATE #2**  While not actively paying attention to it, I haven’t heard any traffic on my street whatsoever for roughly the entire time I’ve been working on this post.

I’m not sure how much snow is typical for this part of the country, obviously, I mean this is my first winter here, right?  But from watching the local weather on TV, I know the average high temperature for today is 49º so I’m thinking this may well be our first, and last, significant snowfall of the year.  I am absolutely ok with that fwiw.

You know, it suddenly occurred to me I may have buried the lede.  I joined the Y. Now, if you know me IRL, you know that “Fitness” is my middle name (not really).  The truth of the matter is, I haven’t done any walking to speak of since I’ve been down here.  That’s a result of being a dog-less household (pour one out to a great dog) but it also has brought me, in and of itself, no closer to adding a dog.  Just yet.  That time is coming, but, like me saying “y’all” it isn’t here now.  You people (yes, I said “you people”) will be among the first to know when I get serious about adding a dog.  But in the interim, I joined the Y last week and have done a decent job of getting over there and actually doing something.  Baby steps, no pun intended, but in the right direction nonetheless.

**UPDATE #3** I just went out to the front porch to throw the aforementioned salt for the mailman.  Our snowfall is 3″ or so.  I saw what I’m fairly certain was his footprints across the front yard.  Not close to my mailbox up on the porch.  I’m hoping it was because I had no mail today, otherwise that throws the whole “rain nor sleet nor gloom of night” thing right out the window.   I gave the man homemade brookies for Christmas for Chrissakes, certainly he could trudge ten feet to the right and up four stairs for me, right?  Hmmmm.

Ok, I think I’m good here for now.  I may go out and seek some snow mischief, I haven’t decided.  But one thing I won’t be doing is shoveling snow.

To quote Ren and Stimpy “Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy!”

Peace