Fun and Games Dept

So I haven’t written anything in the blog for nearly a week. Aside from the video entry I did last week, I haven’t really thought about my blog, but I guess I did think about it more than I did Facebook, which I haven’t really thought about at all. I still think about Google+ and Twitter, both of which I enjoy, but I haven’t felt overly motivated to write the past couple of days. Some would interpret this to mean that there is something bothering me but the truth is quite the contrary; I am enjoying my life to the fullest and sometimes that means that you can’t sit down and write a blog entry. I guess some chapters of my life are just meant for the autobiography that I’ll write in my 50s and don’t really afford themselves to a sneak peak as to the contents of that stunning piece of literary work that won’t be out for at least a decade.

Rarely am I asked as to why I have grown this big mustache. Once in a while I’ll get a comment on it and it’s usually a positive comment, but it’s rare that someone asks why I have grown it to begin with. When I had a previous version of this mustache I had a very touching conversation with a woman who admired it at the mall. On the few occasions that I have been asked about this version I’ve had a variety of sarcastic responses:

“My house boy missed a spot.”

“The barbershop was plunged into darkness due to a power outage and the barber couldn’t see what he was doing.”

“What mustache?”

“I like milk.”

I don’t know why I feel the need to be sarcastic. I should probably stop thinking along those lines. The actual answer to the question is actually a two part answer, “I like mustaches, a lot” and “because I can.”

Now I have no desire to grow a lavish mustache that involves much maintenance and is the size of a tennis racket that is held in place by some wishful thinking and a masculine version of Aqua-Net. That’s not my thing, really, because that approach is a little too primpy for my tastes. I admire the guys that have the patience and the staff that can help with the upkeep, though. Yes, I’m just letting it grow for now but I’m not looking to put something on my face that requires a huge amount of care and maintenance. As long as I abide by the house rule of “I still want to kiss lips”, all is well. Actually, the ‘stache is a favorite of my husband’s and he hopes that I continue to maintain it for a long while. I know I will barring any scissor related catastrophes.

In all honesty, my mustache was inspired by a similar style seen on two men I have crossed paths with over the years. The first was the Airborne Express delivery man that visited the radio station on a daily basis. His ‘stache was wider than mine and if digital cameras were as prevalent as they are today, I could share a picture of him right here, but that was then and this is now. I don’t know what happened to him with the demise of Airborne Express but I like to think that his mustache lives on. The second was an at-the-time recently divorced man I met at Hillside Campgrounds (the gay campgrounds that Earl and I occasionally go to) who could really rock a good ‘stache and he was a friendly sort of person. Now I have a picture of Dan and his mustache but I haven’t talked to him in a few years and I don’t want to share his picture without permission so I won’t do that.

Now that I think about it, I’ve met Homer’s friend Patrick in person and he had a really good mustache, but his is more of the traditional waxed variety, which I find enjoyable but then we get into the maintenance thing and at 5:30 in the morning I’m afraid I’d end up with wax in the wrong places on my body. Nevertheless, Patrick’s mustache is award winning and I’m sure Homer’s probably could be but I haven’t met him in person yet so I can’t say for sure. Close inspection is important.

I think I’m rambling.

Some think that my mustache is a result of that guy that used to be on all the game shows and Doritos commercials in the 70s, but I just like Doritos, his mustache didn’t really do a lot for me. As I recall, his name was Avery Shreiber.

I think I’m still rambling.

Now I have completely lost my train of thought as to where this blog entry was headed. I know that the entry was inspired by the fact that I had a quizzical look flung in my direction by a new counter person at Dunkin’ Donuts (as evidenced by my tea not be prepared and ready upon my arrival) and I could just tell that she wanted to say something but she didn’t. I just smile in a friendly manner in those instances. The lady at Starbucks over the weekend yelled a compliment at me over the din of a blender and I did an Elvis-like “Thank you, thank you very much.” I don’t know why I sounded like Elvis because I don’t recall him ever having a mustache.

So yesterday it was sunny and 80F. Today it is raining and 52F. I know that it is April and April showers bring May flowers and all that, but why does it have to be cold and rainy? Granted, I should be happy that it’s not snowing, because snow at this time of the year in these parts is not uncommon at all. At least the leaves are popping nicely.

My theory is that the somewhat eccentric weather of this spring will bring us some fun storms to chase this summer. We’ll probably get flooded out again in the autumn but at least we’ll have beautiful weather to enjoy in the meantime. Once the rain stops.

It looks like this coming weekend might give me the opportunity to hit the road on my bike for the first time this season. I am really anxious to get out there and go for a ride in the countryside; it’s good for both my physical and mental health. It’s almost meditative; I lose myself in my breathing (as it echoes in my head) and my head quiets down.

My goal is to do a 100 mile ride before Memorial Day. I have a lot of training to do.

Sixteen years ago today I went on my first date with a very handsome man named Earl. Now I know that I sound like Gloria from “Modern Family” because I am mentioning the anniversary of our first date. And even though it has been 16 years since that first date, which included a very long ride through the mountains of Vermont, chatting as we got to know each other, I still smile when I think about getting to know what love was all about as we talked and laughed and cried in my little 1994 Hyundai Excel. His hand on my knee was a natural right from the very start. And while I have love for several in our life, there’s no one that can make me see fireworks or make my heart flutter like my husband can.

The journey feels like it started just yesterday and I’m still smiling because of that day on 4/13/1996.

I am such a hopeless romantic. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So Earl and I spent the weekend visiting my in-laws. It was a very nice visit as we had the opportunity to just sit down and talk with your relatives, which is something we haven’t done in a while. It was a nice change of pace. A bonus feature was that we went and checked out the new casino in Bensalem, Pa. At the old Philadelphia Park, the new casino is called Parx. I lost some money on slots but Earl made up for it and then some. He’s definitely the skilled gambler of the family.

Normally for Easter Earl and I made the occasion our first picnic of the year, but because we were on the road headed home from our visit, we didn’t have a picnic basket or any of the items necessary to make it a fun picnicking experience. So instead of bolting straight home via interstate, we came up through the Catskills and took the back roads to get home. The weather was rather enjoyable (though not as warm as it was a month ago). We talked and laughed as we made our way up and down the hills and through the valleys. We ended up stopping at a diner that we enjoy in the small city of Oneonta, The Neptune Diner. They were open for Easter and did not have a need for reservations. Earl had turkey, I had chicken marsala. Both were enjoyable.

It was a good way to celebrate this springtime holiday and to get ourselves grounded for the work week. Thinking about the day together makes me smile. And that’s what’s important.

Smiling.

So last night Earl and I talked about my feelings on the Affordable Health Care Act, and after much ranting, glaring, yelling and steaming, there was education on my behalf.

I am married to one smart cookie. I should know better than to try and debate a man that went to school for political science. I barely made it through Mrs. Catella’s social studies class in high school.

I’m still not a fan of the government telling me what to do. The problem is society. I strongly believe in personal responsibility and lazy people that think that the world owes them something make me angry. But just because they’re lazy and unproductive doesn’t mean that they’re not worthy of health care. Everyone deserves health care, even if it’s because that have sat on their ass drinking gin at noon and staring at Facebook all day playing “Jewels Be Woo Woo” or something other abuse of technology. And, as a quick aside, let’s not confuse “lazy and unproductive” with “unable to be productive”.

Even though I’m not a fan of the government telling me that I must have some sort of health insurance or be penalized, I now realize that this may be the best solution for an all around crappy scenario. I get that now. And I have my husband to thank for that.

I don’t have a better answer to this problem so who am I to judge? Just do good, live a good life and love one another. That’s all I got.

093/366., originally uploaded by TheTechBear.

I never thought I would see the day when my husband would bring more iDevices than me to the kitchen table.

The Dunkin’ Donuts I haunt on a daily basis proclaimed to me yesterday that iced tea was now 99¢, no matter what size I ordered. This is a savings of $1.66. The ladies behind the counter were very excited to give me this news as they handed me my pre-fetched large, unsweetened iced tea with lemon.

Hear hear to saving money!

I casually mentioned that the Dunkin’ Donuts closest to the house, which is 55 miles away and obviously owned by a different franchisee, has been doing the 99¢ thing for quite a while. I smiled while I said it but they had a look of panic and then shock, like I had just peed in my tea or something. This concerned me because I felt like I had just told them that I had been cheating on them by going to another DD and like a typical man, I kind of like having my tea ready when I walk into the Dunkin’ Donuts. It’s an ego thing. It’s kind of like having supper cooking when I get home from work except it’s at lunch.

No worries though, everything was on schedule today when I walked in; tea was poured, no looks of shock and $1.07 with tax.

They didn’t ask about the other DD. Sometimes we need to celebrate the little things.