Tag: wtf

Posted on

Senior Moments…

So, from the title it should be pretty much obvs where I’m going with this. And while I did have to correct the Oldest One when she tried to stick a label on one of my foibles (More on that later. Probably. Maybe.) that’s not where I’m going with this one.

Tonight is Senior Night at the Heir To The Throne’s baseball game. These aren’t a new phenomena, I remember mine (Although in my case it was Senior Day since the football field didn’t have lights back then. And to the smart asses that might be reading this, it wasn’t because it pre-dated Edison’s invention. The school just didn’t have lights back then) from mumble-mumble years ago, standing out on the football field flanked by my parents, as were all of the other senior football players and cheerleaders. I also remember being alongside the Boy Child at his Senior Night mumble years ago. So I figured my time for this stuff was gone.

Wrong.

I was talking to the Oldest One the other day and she told me the HTTT wanted me to join them on the field. Of course I’m honored to do it. I’m also incredibly thankful she gave me a heads up, otherwise I might’ve gotten some dust, or something, in my eyes. She said she wasn’t sure if he wanted to surprise me or not so I should act surprised. Ok then. I’m not positive, I may still lose my shit tonight. As I’ve written here lately, this is his last year of playing baseball, and I don’t know if he feels any emotion on that front yet, but I sure do. I know the OO does too. I’ll let you know how it goes…

So, I wrote everything you just read yesterday. And, as it turns out, the Oldest One and I both made it through Senior Night unscathed. I can’t however, say the same about my truck. Top of the 4th inning, one of the batters lifted a high pop up into foul territory behind home plate. And as I watched it drift back, high overhead, arcing up and then back down, the thought occurred to me that it would land very near my vehicle. In fact, it landed this near-

I guess if I’d been thinking I could have taken a close-up so you could have seen the little remnants of the thread from the baseball embedded in the glass. As aggravating as this was, I almost instantly realized there was nothing I could do after the fact. I also recognized there was no little irony that, after all these years of going to his baseball games and parking in roughly the same spot for each and every one of his home games, that on this, his final home game, I “caught” a foul ball. I suppose the perfect irony would’ve been if he’d been the batter, but hey, nobody’s perfect amirite? The only thing more aggravating came when, after about 30 minutes on the phone with a nationwide auto glass repair/replacement company that promises on their website “Broken glass? We’ll fix it fast.” See, here’s the thing about that; my definition of fast is worlds away from theirs. According to this company, eight days is a perfectly acceptable answer to the question “How quickly can you get me in for a replacement?”

Needless to say, I’m waiting to hear from another auto glass repair/replacement company to see if they can get me in faster and for less than the $750.00 I was quoted. Sigh.

So, back to the Oldest One and her failed attempt at maligning my mental faculties. I’ll admit, I tend to say things like “I was just going to tell you something but whatever it was vaporized…” I tend to say things like that because things like that tend to happen to me. Typically the thought returns in due time, although not always. My Mom was well known in the family for cycling through about five or six names when talking to any of her grandkids before she’d land on the correct name. We lovingly and laughingly referred to it as a “Grandma Ellie moment”. So, the other night, when good old OO experienced a lapse of what she wanted to say, she tried to pass it off as a “Dad” moment. Now, I’mma tell you something right now. This will not fly. And I told her that in no uncertain terms. Laughingly, of course. Still, things like these must be nipped in the bud.

Lastly, before I leave you with the impression nothing good came of yesterday, it was really a wonderful day. To be able to share this moment-

with these two meant the world to me. And I can’t wait to see what the future brings for him.

Ok, one last thing. Since I’ve been back I’ve done, basically all of my writing at a lovely coffeehouse in Algonquin. And one recent day, one of the baristas and I were chatting and the topic came to this humble little blog. So, when I ordered my Daily (not a typo btw) vanilla latte, she told me she would craft a duck into the foam. Lo and behold, I give you the I Can Relate To Ducks (not its real name) latte –

Pretty cool, no?

Peace

Posted on

Veterans Day

If you know me In Real Life, you probably know that I’m not good with statistics.  My mind typically doesn’t process and/or relay that manner of information very efficiently.  Due to my understanding of how my brain works, I almost never speak or write about facts and figures.  It’s far easier for me to relate things from my emotional center than from my logic-driven center.  I’m going to break from that today.  I’m also going to rely heavily on cutting and pasting because I want to get these numbers, facts, and related information correct.  The reason for that is due to another rare occurrence around here; I’m posting on a serious topic.  Today is Veterans Day (the actual day, though it is being observed tomorrow) and in my humble opinion, as well as the opinion of many, many others, the way our veterans are treated is an abomination.  Like, how can many of our elected officials, past and present, look in the mirror knowing they’ve asked these men and women to sacrifice everything, often for not a goddamn thing?

So here’s a batch of facts from Green Doors dot org –

  • The number of homeless female veterans is on the rise: in 2006, there were 150 homeless female veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars; in 2011, there were 1,700. That same year, 18% of homeless veterans assisted by the VA were women. Comparison studies conducted by HUD show that female veterans are two to three times more likely to be homeless than any other group in the US adult population.
  • Veterans between the ages of 18 and 30 are twice as likely as adults in the general population to be homeless, and the risk of homelessness increases significantly among young veterans who are poor.
  • Roughly 56% of all homeless veterans are African-American or Hispanic, despite only accounting for 12.8% and 15.4% of the U.S. population respectively.
  • About 53% of individual homeless veterans have disabilities, compared with 41%of homeless non-veteran individuals.
  • Half suffer from mental illness; two-thirds suffer from substance abuse problems; and many from dual diagnosis (which is defined as a person struggling with both mental illness and a substance abuse problem).
  • Homeless veterans tend to experience homelessness longer than their non-veteran peers: Veterans spend an average of nearly six years homeless, compared to four years reported among non-veterans.

Now, granted these numbers are from 2011, but I assure you this situation has not improved.  Here’s some more current info from a site called Military Wallet dot com  –

  • 89% received an honorable discharge.
  • 67% served 3 years or more.
  • 47% are Vietnam veterans
  • 15% served before Vietnam
  • 5.5% are Iraq and Afghanistan veterans.

You may also be aware that veteran suicide rates are significantly higher than those of the general population.  Again, that’s troubling, and points to a greater need for care than we’ve been providing.  This, from Military Times dot com notes some of the rates, including recent changes –

In 2016, the most recent data available, the suicide rate for veterans was 1.5 times greater than for Americans who never served in the military. About 20 veterans a day across the country take their own lives, and veterans accounted for 14 percent of all adult suicide deaths in the U.S. in 2016, even though only 8 percent of the country’s population has served in the military.

I probably shouldn’t have read these stats at the coffeehouse, because it almost brought tears to my eyes.  This information is ridiculously easy to look up.  But nothing seems to change.  I’ve got a theory or two about the root cause, but I’m not going to politicize an issue like this one.  I promise you I don’t have any answers, other than reaching out to your elected officials and screaming at them to act like a human being and take care of these veterans.  Actually the screaming part is probably not a good idea.  But the reaching out to them part is.  So clicking on this link will take you to USA dot GOV and a page that will refer you to your legislators in both the House and the Senate.  I’m trying to make this as easy as I can for all of us to do something.

Lastly, if talking to a wall is not something you’re prepared to do, I’ve included some links to non-profit organizations that specialize in veteran specific issues.  I encourage you to vet them as carefully as you like, I just took a cursory glance, and if none of these strikes your fancy, it’s just as easy to find organizations charged with caring for veterans as it is to find veteran-specific statistics.

And if you choose to both tell a politician to do the right thing and also assist a vets group, good on you.

Give An Hour  works to match military and veterans struggling with mental health and well-being with volunteer health professionals that can help them recover. The nonprofit has provided 210,000 hours of service with over 858 active volunteers and 390 partner organizations.

Midwest Shelter for Homeless Veterans  is a non-profit agency that provides housing, supportive services and community outreach to help homeless and at-risk veterans and their families achieve self-sufficiency.

Fisher House Foundation  builds comfort homes where military & veterans families can stay free of charge, while a loved one is in the hospital.

Semper Fi Fund  serves all branches of the military, Semper Fi Fund provides emergency financial assistance to post 9/11 vets who are wounded, critically ill, or were injured during their service. The nonprofit also provides support for vets and their families to provide a smooth transition back into their communities.

Our homeless population should be a point of shame for every elected official in the country.  Period.  End of statement.  Now add in the fact that so many of them are also veterans.

We need to fix this.

Peace

Posted on

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.

Posted on

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