Tag: North Carolina

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Following Up On “WTF was I thinking?”

So, I’m sitting at the coffeehouse this morning, contemplating what I could write about.  This feels better, btw, at least more productive than usual, since I often find myself thinking “I should write about _____” and then not doing anything with it.

But, as often seems to be the case with me, I was getting bupkis in the way of ideas.  So, I finished my delightful latte, got back in the car, and headed home.

And then, as sometimes happens, the universe provides…

Remember a couple posts back when I asked (rhetorically, I thought) if you’ve ever had a “WTF was I thinking?” moment?  Less than five minutes out from the coffeehouse, as I was heading south, I witnessed the end result of poor decision-making skills driving toward me.  A plain, nondescript, white van, the kind that used to be called a cargo van but now is more like an abduction van.  At least according to movies that have abduction scenes in them.  The van was heading north, bearing a cargo of sheet rock on its roof rack.  I’m pretty sure the drivers conversation with himself before he left the home improvement store was something along the lines of “Should I throw a strap over that stuff? Nah, I’m not going that far…”

Turns out he chose poorly, as I watched first one, then two, then, ultimately, five sheets of drywall raise up off the roof of his van, catching wind and snapping backward into two (or more) large pieces against the rear of his van, finally smashing into the roadway in his wake.  Fortunately there was no one behind him.  I imagine he planned for some waste when he made his purchase.  But dayam buddy, that much?

I continued on my merry way home with a little literary fuel.  Thank you stranger.

On another note, I made a brief PSA regarding the upcoming election at the end of my last post.  I didn’t anticipate anything else political between posting that and Election Day, but I figured since I’d talked the talk I should also walk the walk. I early voted yesterday.  It was a little busier than I anticipated but still only took me fifteen minutes or so to accomplish.  Judging from the crowd, and tbh, assigning stereotypes to my fellow early voters (and their walkers, canes, caregivers, et al) my Democratic (uppercase D intended) vote put me squarely in the minority of the democratic (lowercase d intended) process.

I’m ok with that btw.  Some might ask what the point of voting is when you’re so outnumbered your candidate can’t possibly win.  I counter that by saying this; not voting is a guarantee your voice will not be heard.  Even if the candidate of your choice is defeated, the person elected still represents you.  Regardless of your (or their) party affiliation.  Remember folks, democracy is a contact sport.  And in this case, that contact needs to be made by you with whomever represents you in whatever public office they may hold.  You want something done?  Stop in and see them or a staffer of theirs, in person.  As often as you can.  Once you force them to assign a face to your name it becomes a more complex issue for them to tell you “no”.  And, by the same token, make sure and thank them whenever they vote the way you ask them to on an issue.  No one wants to hear all bitching, all of the time.  *climbs off soapbox*

Finally, and this will be brief, I’d just like to leave you with this.  In using a public restroom here, well, anywhere really, you’ll typically see a sign on the wall reminding employees to wash up after using the facilities.  These signs often bear the name of the state capital, in this case Raleigh.

It’s not possible for me to see that word without hearing it in Andy Griffith’s voice.  I mean, like every single time.

Raleigh.

See?  You can’t not do it, can you?

Vote.

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Retired Guy Post Number 2

While I was out-of-town, the fall edition of the biannual, official, Illinois retired fire guy magazine (pro tip- not its real name) came in the mail.  That being said, I’m taking this opportunity to share what I wrote back then here with you today.  Like I said when I started doing the regular column for the magazine; A.) I was (still am) thrilled to be asked to submit something and B.) going to share them here after a new article gets published.

So, here goes…

I recently had to travel back to the frozen tundra of northern Illinois.  My Local, DGPFFA #3234, had our Recognition Dinner.  We do this event every year to honor retirees from the previous year, and since I qualified, I came back for the festivities.  Since I’m now on a fixed income, I’d typically drive but due to time constraints, this time I flew.

For the trip home I chose casual attire, which included my union logo’d jacket.  I’m proud of my Union; Local 3234, the AFFI, and the IAFF and I don’t mind representing when I’m out in public.  

Brief side-track…

A few years ago, maybe 2013 or 14, I was helping the fellas collect for MDA.  I was positioned on one of the busiest intersections in town; west bound Butterfield Road at Finley Road.  At one point as I was strolling among the cars stopped at the light, I saw a woman, sitting in the front passenger seat, reach in to her purse.  Of course I stopped at her window.  An older woman along with her husband (I assume) driving a fairly recent model, full-size, Cadillac.  Big money, right?  I leaned over as she rolled down her window and as soon as the window opened the hubby leaned over and asked what we were collecting for.  I politely told him we were collecting for MDA, “you know, Jerry’s kids.”  Even though Jerry Lewis no longer did the telethon I still used that line, especially with folks my age or older.  As the wife deposited a dollar in change (I wish I was making that part up) the husband said, and I quote, “Oh, good.  I thought this was some union thing” Before they pulled away I said “Oh don’t worry sir, it is a union thing, thanks!” and laughed to myself as they drove off.

Back to the matter at hand.

So, while sitting at the gate at O’Hare, waiting for the return trip to North Carolina, a gentleman came over and sat down a couple seats away from me.  He looked at my jacket and asked if I was a firefighter.  I told him I was, that I was actually a recently retired firefighter.  Then he said, with complete sincerity “Thank you for your service.”  I thanked him for his kind words, but assured him the pleasure was all mine.  I meant it too.  I loved being “on-the-job” as much as anything I’ve done and all the good times that came along with it too.  But when someone from the general public drops a “TYFYS” on me, I get a little twitchy.  Don’t get me wrong, I like a compliment as well as the next person.  Still, something about it just doesn’t feel right.  I mean, after all, we’re just doing what we get paid to do, right?  And I may be wrong, but I think most of us got into this business for many things other than accolades.

So, my retired brethren and sisteren, (that may not be a word by the way) I’m looking for a little help here.  Do I just need to get over this or is there a better way to handle unsolicited yet genuine thanks for doing something I loved doing?  Any suggestions are welcome. And, uh, TYFYS…

There you have it.  I actually liked the first one better than this one, but I guess they can’t all be Pulitzer worthy…

That still holds true btw, I still don’t know how to respond when somebody tosses out a sincere “TYFYS” to me.  I mean, on occasion another fire guy will hand one out, but it’s totally different, kind of snarky when given to one another, so it’s easy to laugh off.  Oh well, I guess I just continue to smile and say “It was my pleasure” because, truly, it was.

One last thing before I head off to my next errand.  I’m not sure if I’ll get anything out between now and Election Day (caps mine) and I just want to take a few seconds to remind you of the importance.  I don’t care what your political beliefs are, (ok, that’s a lie, I do, but it’s still your right to vote.  Even when you’re voting for the wrong person…) to me, the single most American thing you can do is get. out. and. vote.  So please, get up off your couch and go do it.  This midterm is a very important election.  They all are, but this one more than most.  So instead of my usual sign off, I think I’ll leave you with this instead…

Vote.

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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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Life with Lilly Episode 3 – Road Trip!

This is actually a two-fer, since I just snuck in a second trip this past weekend, but let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

Lilly is now an experienced traveler and she was an absolute trooper during the trip back to Illinois.  We got off to a rocky start, she began whining after about 45 minutes in the car, we weren’t even out of North Carolina yet, so I dutifully pulled off onto an entrance ramp so she could go potty.  We walked around and she sniffed for every bit of 15-20 minutes before I determined it to be a false alarm.  We got back in the car and drove to Beckley, WV for a break.  We stayed for about an hour and she not only didn’t really eat anything, she never did her business.  She did however meet a charming young Jack Russell terrier from Reno, NV. named Tank.  His human drove a tanker truck so…  He was her first doggy bud, and once they each got over the initial shock of meeting another puppy, they were besties.

A couple of hours up the road, in  Middleofnowhere, OH (not its actual name) Lilly started to whine again and this time she meant it.  I found an exit and pulled off on the entrance side and within minutes she had emptied everything she had carried with her to that point.  We made it to our hotel, checked in and hauled our stuff up to the room when I realized I’d forgotten something down in the car.  We headed back down and as we turned the corner in the hallway I saw a woman with two large dogs, a Golden Retriever and another similar sized dog.  I hesitated since Lilly hasn’t got much experience with other dogs (Tank notwithstanding) but thought since the woman didn’t say anything, her dogs must be social.  I was watching Lilly to make sure she was acting appropriately when the Golden got off its collar and charged at Lilly growling.  She cowered back into an alcove and I stepped in between the two kneeing the Golden away and telling it “NO!”.  The lady grabbed her dogs and pulled him away and never once said anything about the incident.  Nothing.  Shame on me for assuming someone could control their dog, I guess.  Had she told me her dog might be a jerk I would’ve picked Lilly up or something until they’d passed.  Oh well.  Lilly forgot about it in seconds and was proudly prancing back down the hall to the elevator.

In addition to her first time experiencing a jerk of a dog, and riding the elevator, this was the first time #LillyNO saw her own image.  The hotel room had a closet with full-length mirrors for doors.  Let’s just say hilarity ensued…

Day two was pretty uneventful.  Another false alarm in Middleofnowhere, IL (also not its real name, but equally fitting) where we sniffed around a bean field for fifteen minutes, but that was it.   We met the Great Vincenzo for coffee in Yorkville and he and Lilly hit it off great.  She also attracted attention from almost every female patron that walked up.  I think he wanted to borrow her for the day after that… just kidding… kinda…

Now, traveling several hundred miles like I do on these trips there are many rivers to cross (shout out to Jimmy Cliff) including… YES! my favorite, the French Broad River!  Of course that didn’t come until my second trip (I’ll get to that in a little bit) but this thought occurred to me while driving through Indiana.  I can’t, it seems, drive through Indiana without thinking about French Lick, Indiana.  No, really, that’s the name of the town.  Who the heck thought that was a good name for a town?  French Lick is the home of NBA legend Larry Bird btw, and I think it’s also got a highly regarded resort there.  But I can’t get past the name, you know?  If you know me IRL, you know where my mind wanders when I think about  the name.  So, exhaustive research (I GTS’d it, natch) produced this.  It’s named after mineral springs in the area.  Kind of a let down, for me anyway.

But back to my travels.  And the reason behind them.  The Little Diamond and the Heir To The Throne each had a birthday, yay!  LD became a threenager (boy did she ever, lol) and HTTP is now *checks math, looks in mirror, sighs* 18. Eightfrickinteen!  How on earth did that happen?  That’s a rhetorical question, btw.  I know how it happened.  I just have a hard time believing I have an 18-year-old grandson.

All in all, I had a great visit home.  I didn’t see a lot of family, though I stayed with the Boy Child and PhojoMama™ and their family which was a delight.  It also produced, quite possibly, one of my favorite pictures.  As you can see here, #LillyNO struck up a quick but strong bond with the grandchild formerly known as Beatle Baby who at one point leaned over and looked the puppy in the eyes and said “Lilly, you’re the best dog EVER!”  Instant heart melt.  And I can assure you, she feels the same way about him.  He read to her, played with her, cuddled with her, and generally enjoyed her company.  If it hadn’t been for the high quotient of chewable things that she shouldn’t be chewing on, I think she would have slept with him while we stayed there.

I was able to meet with a couple different friends for coffee, always a plus and in both cases entirely pleasant.  Lilly also met some of the guys at the firehouse that Sunday when we went in for Sunday brunch.  Chef Bob once again delivered an excellent meal, biscuits and gravy that would pass muster at any of the fine Southern establishments I’ve discovered since I retired.  One of the guys that I used to work with always commented how we should raffle off a chance to dine with us since Sunday brunch at the firehouse is a pretty awesome experience.  I agree, it would be a great revenue stream for the village.  #LillyNo seemed to have an innate understanding of the ideal way to address a Sunday at the firehouse.  She settled into that spot and slept soundly, only picking her head up when the tones dropped and the fellas went out on a run.  She wasn’t quite sure what to make of all the commotion, but then that’s not at all an uncommon response to waking up to the tones.  We stopped back in a couple of days later to drop something off for one of the fellas and, after saying hello to the guys working that day, quickly resumed her favorite pose in her favorite position.  Aaahhh, life at the firehouse can be so taxing.  One must get one’s rest when one can, you know?

The return trip home was uneventful, thankfully.  #LillyNO was again a real trooper, spending most of the trip sleeping in her crate on the floor behind me. Most of her random whining was put to rest by me reaching back and putting my fingers into her crate.  I don’t know if that reassured her or what, but she would quickly settle down and go back to sleep whenever I did that.

I was home for about five days and then, leaving #LillyNO in the care of my neighbor, I headed out to Chattanooga, TN for a music festival.  I met a couple of guys from the firehouse there and we had an amazing time.  A little rain, but there was only one brief delay in the music.  Chattanooga is a pretty cool town I think.  Although when our Uber driver at one point advised us that “We took back downtown” was the root cause behind any resurgence there, it caused us all to wonder when Chattanooga had been occupied, by what invading nation, and why we hadn’t heard about the conflict on the news.

One other thing that made me chuckle was on Sunday morning, as we were walking back in to the festival.  There was a man and a woman standing on a street corner by the entrance, each holding a sign advising us we should repent our sins or some similar message.,, The man, using a bullhorn, was calling out festival goers, telling them to change the error of their ways.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I think organized religion is a fine thing and I know many people who have deep, spiritual roots and find great comfort in their faith.  And I’m absolutely fine with that.  But I had to laugh when, an hour or so later the skies opened up and poured rain, chasing the proselytizers down the street for cover, while the fest patrons stood enjoying the music.  I guess Jesus didn’t approve of their message…

I also saw what may well be a copyright infringement of me.  This shirt – worn by a fellow music lover made me do a double take and prompted the picture.  My only regret is not posing with the guy for the sake of comparison.  I guess I should point out here that, the Boy Child, the fruit of my loins for Chrissakes, refers to me as “Doc Brown”.  That, of course, is the Christopher Lloyd character from the “Back To The Future” movies.  I asked the guy where he got the shirt and he said some random t-shirt shop in Florida.  I found that part odd, since it says “Myrtle Beach, SC” on it, but whatevs, right?  It’s still a classic and if I can find one, I will purchase it.  Doc Brown, my ass…

I guess that just about covers my travels for the last few weeks.  Quick Hurricane Florence update while I’ve got you… We got a little over four inches of rain yesterday.  I think up to that point we were at about an inch and a half, so yesterday was pretty wet.  No flooding near me to report, as hurricanes go, this was a good one to get my, ummm, feet wet on…  #seewhatIdidthere #sorrynotsorry.  This one turned a little more wordy than usual, but I had a lot to say so, ya know, stuff happens.

And, as Rod Stewart says “Every picture tells a story, donut”

Peace

Posted on

ICRTD Hurricane Edition

You know, I was part way through a post about my recent travels and with the way my phone has blown up the last couple days, I figured it might be prudent to address the weather.  I’m not sure if you’re aware, but as it turns out A HURRICANE IS COMING AND IT’S GOING TO MAKE LANDFALL IN NORTH CAROLINA!!!!!!

First off, let me just express gratitude for all the family and friends that have called/texted/DM’d/Messaged me the last few days to make sure I’m safe.  It kinda shocked me, but then I realized it’s because I’ve got the coolest friends on the planet and I appreciate each and every one of you, whether you reached out to me or gave me a few moments thought out of your day.  So thanks, I’m humbled, truly.

Now, to The Storm (capitalization mine) that approaches…

Among the reasons I chose central North Carolina were the consideration that any hurricanes that might come this way would, in theory at least, weaken significantly by the time it came in this far.  Believe me, I have no desire to “tough it out” when it comes to 100+ mile per hour winds and 25+ inches of rain all at the same time.  I have what I consider a healthy respect for Mother Nature.  Being a native Midwesterner I experienced several tornadoes over the course of my life, some closer than others, but I knew enough about them to know that it was foolhardy to try and stare one down.  Tornadoes, of course, are fairly short-lived phenomena.  Hurricanes, as I’m sure you are aware, last for days.  If the experts recommend I should evacuate, I’m gone.

Now, please don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t mean to suggest any of the concerned calls or offers of a place to stay were out of line, rather I know they were placed out of genuine concern for my safety.  And again, I appreciate you.

The initial storm track after landfall was actually fairly close to me, within fifty miles or so.  But even at that the storm that was expected to pack winds around 125 mph and dump 25″-30″ of rain on the coast was only expected to bring 30 mph winds and 3″-6″ of rain to this part of the state.  Granted that’s larger than a typical storm, but perfectly manageable, at least to me.  As long as the storm doesn’t produce six weeks of sub zero temperatures (you know, like January in northern Illinois) I think I’ll be fine.  Further, as of about 45 minutes ago the National Weather Service Hurricane Center now predicts the storm will move south and west after landfall, crossing through South Carolina instead of North Carolina.  I haven’t seen the local updates yet, but I feel safe in assuming that will lessen the impact of the storm on this area even more.  Of course, I’ll continue to monitor the updates and I promise not to do anything (too) stupid once the storm finally gets here.

I mean, after all, who wants to be on Florence’s list?  Amirite?

Peace

Posted on

Life With Lilly Episode 2

Not surprisingly, #LillyNO is still trending around here.  Although I must say, she’s not at all a bad puppy.  She is without doubt a puppy though, and prone to doing the things puppies are wont to do.  But I think, of the two of us, I’m the one more in need of training.  That, however, has been put on hold.

Two weeks ago I noticed she was limping, favoring her front left leg.  It wasn’t too bad so I thought just keeping an eye on it was the best course of action.  The next morning the limp was more pronounced so I scheduled an appointment at the Vet for later that day.  X-ray’s were negative, but the Vet suggested, and I agreed, a consult with an orthopedic specialist was prudent.  Quick side note; in her first week here she went from fifteen lbs. to twenty lbs.  Inside wide-eyed emoji anywhere you like…  So, earlier this week we drove up to Greensboro for our appointment.  Now, about four days after the limp started, it stopped.  Just as quickly too, it wasn’t a gradual thing, more like flipping a switch.  That the limp resolved (three days) before the ortho appointment had no effect on my decision to take her there.  I wanted to know if it was a thing or just a random puppy mishap.  And I tended to think it was a thing.  The whole time she limped, she wanted nothing to do with play.  She’d go outside to do her business and then go right back to the door so she could go back inside and lay down.  Or is it lie down?  Either way, getting horizontal was her only goal.  But once the limping stopped, she was back to full on puppiness; bouncing off walls, chasing toys, her tail, shadows, air, you name it and she chased it.  Interspersed, of course, with totally vegging out, often mid-chase.

The ortho Vet examined her, and the X-ray from our regular Vet, and said she thought it was a soft-tissue injury eg. sprain/strain.  She did say, however, that due to potential mechanism of injury, there was a possibility of damage to the growth plate in her left “wrist” and that it needed to be monitored.  She recommended a restriction of activity (uh-huh) for another two weeks and a followup exam and X-ray in one month to see if there were any differences in her growth plate.

So there’s that.

We’ve tried to take daily walks around the downtown area, for socialization with strangers more so than for the exercise, and she seems genuinely disappointed when people choose to ignore her.  I’m more surprised than disappointed.  I mean, I know not everyone loves dogs, but look at this face?  How can you look at that and not want to give her a good ear scratch or belly rub?  Or both?  But she carries on, undaunted by the refusals of crabby people, seeking the next friendly human to shower her with attention, because, god knows, she doesn’t get any around here…

That picture, while adorable, also points to one of her puppy bad habits that we’re working on.  Namely inappropriate chewing.  The leash she is very sweetly holding in the photo, is now in two pieces.  Yup.  One night while we were sitting in the carport, watching a storm.  Lilly was laying (or is it lying?) sweetly on the door mat.  Or so I thought.  She was, of course, on her leash.  I held the other end in my hand so she wouldn’t wander off.  At one point, she got up and walked over to a rug about three feet away.  And I thought to myself “huh.  The leash never moved…”  Looking down, I saw why.  She had chewed through it.  I was not pleased.  The leash had been Sophie’s, so there was that aspect of it.  But more that I had let my guard down.  Puppy gonna puppy, ya know?  It’s on me to prevent stuff from happening and not her.  So I lost a teachable moment.

And a memento of a great dog.

Don’t get me wrong, Lilly is a great puppy in her own right.  I have to admit though, it’s hard not to try to make comparisons between Lilly and Sophie.  They share many similar traits, yet are also completely different.  And both have a firm grasp on my heart.    I’ll never understand how some people can abuse animals.  This puppy unconditionally loves anyone that showers the slightest bit of attention upon her.  The thought of someone consciously turning their back on such a devoted creature and crushing it’s very soul sickens me.

Well, that took a turn…

This post has taken a lot longer to write than the last one.  A certain puppy keeps “yelling” at me until I get on the floor and play with her.  So we play.  She’s currently terrorizing one of her squeaky toys.  And, intermittently attempting to assault my Crocs…

Ahhh puppies.

Peace

Posted on

Life With Lilly Episode 1

This may take a while to produce.  If you haven’t kept up with the latest news on the dog front (and, really?  Why not?) let me explain… no, there is too much… let me sum up…

I got a puppy last week, Lilly, a four month-old Lab mix.

***Cuteness alert***

So, as it turns out, while I knew puppies required a lot of patience, since it’s been thirteen years between puppies I had forgotten just HOW MUCH patience.  In one short week  I’m afraid Lilly now believes her name to be LillyNO.  And I’m not even joking…

Well, maybe a little.  But I think I’m still going to turn that into a hashtag.  #LillyNo has a nice ring to it, right?

And don’t get me wrong, she’s worth it, I mean look at that face for chrissakes.  She is absolutely adorable.  And pretty smart too.  We’re doing really well with potty training; she’s had three accidents in the house to date, all due to my inattentiveness rather than her inability to learn.  We work on “sit” while on our walks and I’ve reached out to a local training facility for regular, real lessons.  But there’s still much for both of us to learn.

For example, I’d really like her to learn that the metal patio chairs in the carport are not, in fact, edible.  She seems to belive they are.  When I correct her, she immediately switches from gnawing on the chair leg to licking it, something I believe to be the canine equivalent to a young child saying “I’m not touching you” while holding an outstretched finger millimeters from it’s intended sibling target.

She’s becoming quite good at verbalizing when I fail to pay ample attention to her as well.  Just this morning I got barked at two different times while trying to read the morning news online.  One bark, followed by a whine in my general direction, and a playful pose, and she’s got me on the floor with her while she chews whatever she can reach, whether appropriate or not.

We’re doing pretty well at socializing too.  She loves meeting people on our walks and prances up to them full of glee.  She’s not quite sure (tbh I’m not either) what to make of people who aren’t thrilled to meet her, but they do exist. Who doesn’t love an adorable puppy?  I don’t think I want to know the adult that doesn’t speak some kind of treacly gibberish when they meet a puppy though, so I guess it’s a good way to weed out those sociopaths.

Also?  Treacly Gibberish sounds like a great name for a British boy band, don’t you think?

Oh, here’s a side benefit.  Lilly loves to eat bugs.  This is huge around here.  Apparently the climate that brought me to this area is also popular with the insect population.  I’ve seen bugs down here that I’ve never seen before.  I’m not even joking about that either.  Most have been harmless; except for mosquitoes, of course, and the occasional ill-tempered yellow jacket.  The bugs and I have an arrangement.  Stay out of my personal space and I might not squish you.  It should be noted however, my personal space is roughly 75 yards in any direction when bugs are concerned.  Also, every time I step on one (with great alacrity I might add), I look around, half-expecting to see Edgar from Men in Black glaring at me.

“Oh.  Was that your auntie?  Then this must be your uncle.”  *Crunch*

Sorry, I got distracted there by my bug obsession.  Fwiw, I’m bringing in professional help.  With the bugs, not me.  Some ships have sailed, you know what I mean?  I’ve tried the peppermint oil treatment (courtesy of PhojoMama™) but it’s time to go nuclear on their little creepy-crawly asses.  It’s not sadistic if we’re talking about bugs, right?

Btw, this has gone much smoother than I anticipated, “someone” chose this time to nap and, timing being everything, I’ve been able to work on this uninterrupted.  In all reality, there’s probably not a significant difference in quality, but it’s a little easier to stay in the flow without having to walk away from the keyboard every couple of minutes to check on the whereabouts of a certain inquisitive puppy.  Of course the trade-off is that she’s likely building up energy reserves for a full-on assault of my sanity this afternoon.  We may have a trip to Petsmart in our future.  Just sayin’  Especially if the rain that’s forecast comes in.  Fortunately Miss Lilly loves car rides.  I bought a smaller crate for her use on road trips and she’s taken to it readily.  She can’t quite jump up and in on her own yet, although she’s getting close.  But she lays (lies?) right down on her car bed and curls up without a peep.  She’ll be making the birthday road trip home with me next month so we’ll see how she does.  I’m already planning on making it a two-day trip both ways.  So far she’s handled up to two hours with no issue, but I don’t want to press my luck with a marathon car trip for her, at least not at this age.

She’s still passed out, so I think I’m going to wrap this up and try to accomplish some kind of domestic task that I’ve put off.  Pretty sure there’s laundry in the dryer waiting for someone to fold and I’m just the guy to do it.

Peace

Posted on

Meet Lilly

Well, here we are.  I’ve been away from my keyboard for a ridiculously long time.  I’m not sure why, it’s not like I haven’t had ample fodder for a post here.  Some of them have been bouncing around my head, some have even made it to draft form, but no posts.  Today, however, I’ve got something for you.

I’ve got something for me too.

If you’ve been reading along for the last year or so (You HAVE been reading longer, right?) you may remember I had to put Sophie down last fall (pour one out to a great dog) and if you’ve ever had a pet, you know how traumatic that can be.  I told myself I’d get a puppy after I came out to central NC, it would give me something to do while I got acclimated to my new environs.  I started searching PetFinder.com daily, looking for a Lab or a Lab mix.  I found several that I liked, even went to see a couple, but, when the time came to do something, the something I chose to do was… nothing.  I just couldn’t finalize the puppy situation.  I made rationalizations all over the place; too much travel, haven’t puppy-proofed the house, that one’s too small, that one’s too, well, you get the picture.  I had a hundred reasons why.

But then I realized, and may have even mentioned it here; it wasn’t that I missed having a dog.  I missed Sophie.  And I knew it would be a disservice to any puppy I might bring in until I got that through my system.   I continued checking the website (I knew I wanted a rescue versus buying from a breeder, so…) and I pondered life without a dog.  I have to say, parts of that life are kinda nice.  No pet hair to vacuum, no cutting plans short to feed, let out, whatever, the dog, no wondering who to watch the dog for out-of-town stuff, etc.

Something just occured to me, I’ve been building to this “moment” as I’m writing and, since when I post these links to social media it always includes an image from the post and, well, the title is kind of a give-away so…  about a week ago I saw this face-

And I knew I was smitten.  I mean how cute is that? I watched her and her sister daily, wondering each morning if I’d flip to the page and see that she was off the list.  I mean, it would have been good for her, she would have found her new family, but not so much for me.  Although I really did carry an “if it’s meant to be, it will be” attitude throughout.  Further research found that this particular shelter holds events every Saturday at their local Tractor Supply store.  The fact that it was two hours away wasn’t a deterrent as far as I was concerned.

Saturday morning I found myself wrestling with my decision; do I go?  Do I pass?

I went.  It was time.

She was very shy, in a kennel with three other dogs, including her brother.  Mom is a Chocolate Lab and Dad is apparently a Hound.  In more ways than one…  Her name was “Pumpernickel” because it seems when shelters get litters in, it’s easier to name them from a theme of sorts and this litters theme was bread.  I don’t know why.  However, despite an adorable audio clip of an almost three year-old Little Diamond saying “Pumpernickel” I had decided last fall that my next dog would be named “Lilly” and so that was that.  I filled out the form and was told she’d be put on hold until they could check a reference on me with my vet in Illinois on Monday.

I passed.

So, last night I drove two hours each way to bring Lilly to her new home.  She did great last night, only one accident in the house and that was my fault.  she was sniffing around and since she had just gone out a little before that, I asssumed she was just sniffing for the sake of sniffing.  LOL.  As I write this, she’s on the floor at my feet, chewing away on one of the toys I bought for her.

She slept through the night last night without incident (don’t ask where…)(but her $50 crate with the $30 bed were not involved) and ate her breakfast like a champ.  I probably need to boost the portion a little bit, but I’m being overly cautious with that since Sophie had a bit of a weight problem and I’d like to avoid that with Lilly.  I’ve got an appointment with a local vet for her tomorrow for a checkup and whatever else she needs.  Including any puppy classes they can recommend.  I’ll be out and about socializing her as much as I can, I believe that’s important for puppies (people too) so I’d like to work on that every day with her in various situations.  She’s a very sweet, very playful pup and she’s starting to take to her new name, I think.  That will take some time, as I expect will potty training too.  Such is life with a little one.

Be prepared for an onslaught of cute puppy pics… I know, I know; low hanging fruit, right?  She is, as the kids say, adorbs and I’m fairly certain will be more than a little spoiled (see sleeping arrangements above).

I’d write more, but right now there’s a belly that’s calling out to be rubbed.  And who am I to say no?  Well, to belly rubs, at least.  I have a feeling that there is going to be a lot of “No” being heard around here for a while.  #PuppyLife #WeAreBothLearning #HereGoesNothing #WishMeLuck

Peace