May 2008

Last night Earl and I made the trek to nearby Rome to return the Malibu to the dealer. The lease is up and Earl’s company is providing a new company car (funny how that works), so the folks at the Chevy dealer were a little disheartened to not be selling us a new vehicle. The Malibu was a good little workhorse and we had a couple of road adventures in it. It served well as Earl’s company car for the past three years.

We hadn’t been to that part of Rome in quite a while, which is now called “Little Italy”. (You’d think all of Rome would be considered Italian, but that’s another blog entry). On the way to the car dealer we noticed a barbershop had opened up in a store front that had been a barbershop up until the mid 90s and had since been abandoned. It was good to see the shop busy once again and we noticed that the hours were a little more lifestyle friendly for today’s hectic pace: open until 7 on weeknights and until 4 on Saturday.

Earl has not had a haircut in a long while. He wasn’t satisfied with his last visit to his (now former) barber and was trying to figure out where to get his hair cut without driving to the always popular Shoppingtown Mall Barbers near Syracuse (it’s quite a drive for a haircut). So this morning, after we picked up his company car, I drove us to the barbershop we had spotted last night. As we walked in I noticed that Todd, the new owner of the shop, had kept the shop as traditional as possible while still keeping it comfortable for contemporary times. The old sink in the center of the shop was cleaned up and standing proud. The old chairs from the 40s have been given the attention they deserved and the wood floor has been restored. Various bottles of potions, lotions and such, remnants of the shop that used to occupy the space, lined the countertop. With the addition of a flat screen television and a comfortable couch, it’s a nice slice of tradition in this neighborhood that is finally getting itself back together.

Being bald and all I just sat in the shop and shot the bull with the few guys that were hanging out whilst Earl got his haircut. Todd told us that he had opened up in January after working with another barber across town for the past eight years. He was happy to strike it out on his own; his former boss was 92-years old and was apparently getting a bit much to handle.  When all was said and done, Earl was quite pleased with his haircut.

I think it’s safe to say that Earl has found his new barber. 

I found myself in a bit of a quandary this morning. As I tried to grab a few more moments of shut-eye and an incredibly fun dream I was having, I had a bedmate of the feline persuasion thinking differently of the situation. He chattered and chirped and ran around the bed like a maniac. I pushed him away a few times, he persisted. When that didn’t work, he jumped off the bed and then back onto the bed by leaping onto my back from the floor.

I now have a cat scratch across my back.

Our beloved son is tipping 14 years old and has all the energy of a cat less than half that age. How in the world do I train him when Daddy is sleeping not to go crazy? I suppose I could lock him out of the bedroom but then all I would hear is the destruction of the bedroom door.

In the meantime, I’m an obedient adult and I get the tuna out of the cupboard and into the dish on cue.

I decided to do a little sprucing up around the site today. If you’re not using an RSS reader, you’ve probably noticed that the appearance of the site has changed drastically. I decided to go with something a little more neutral. I think it’s a little easier on the eyes.

Speaking of eyes, it seems that something has irritated the hell out of my right eye. It’s not swollen or anything but it is quite red. Throughout the day I found this makes people a little nervous. I heard a lot of this: “Do you have pink eye?”  I’d laugh manically and give them the evil eye with the red eye. “YES! YES! You’re going to catch it by looking at it!” and then I’d laugh like a loon again. I’ve had pink eye before. It’s how I celebrated my 13th birthday. It was swollen and itchy and red (well, it was more than pink) and it made everyone nervous. To make the occasion more joyous my parents took me to an airshow in the ‘burg of Weedsport where EVERYONE could see my pink eye. They asked questions, lots of questions. A woman named Trix (don’t call her Trixie) thought she’d catch it by gazing into my pink eye. I don’t think she did. Nevertheless, this eye irritation is nowhere near what that felt like so I’m not sweating it. I’m pretty sure I had something stuck in my eye last night when I went to bed and it just made it’s mark while I was sleeping. If it doesn’t go away in a day or two, I might consider medical treatment.