Ponderings and Musings

With the tax returns burning a hole in our pockets, Earl and I decided to make the final purchase necessary for the house. After searching several stores yesterday, we purchased a queen-sized sleigh bed for the “back bedroom”, which is the official guest room here at The JPnEarl Manor.

It’s interesting that I refer to that room as the back bedroom. It’s not really in the back of the house. It’s actually my old office. I suppose it’s the furthest away from the master bedroom so it gets dubbed the “back bedroom”. Grandma and Grandpa City had a “back bedroom”, I guess that’s where I picked the term up from.

Anyway, with the purchase of this sleigh bed (which is to be delivered on Wednesday, let’s hope for ‘woof’ points), our house is now full of furniture. Not bad for 4+ years of living here. We also now have two spare bedrooms, the aforementioned “back bedroom” and the closer bedroom that we call the “boy bedroom”, which is where our fantasy houseboy will sleep. He gets the older full-sized bed.

As I drove back and forth from school today I had several random thoughts singing around in this active head of mine. I thought I would share. I might get a little ranty.

1. Heads up to people that are not familiar with winter driving. You can not dodge the snowflakes and it’s o.k. for them to hit your car. In addition, it is not wise to slam on the breaks when you find yourself in a whiteout (blowing/drifting snow or snow that’s falling down really hard). The person behind you will slam into you and to make the occasion more joyous they can’t see you because you’ve stopped in the middle of the whiteout. Note to New Jersey drivers – for some reason you folks feel that putting your sunglasses on in the middle of a whiteout helps your visibility. It doesn’t. It makes you look stupid.

2. While we’re in the car, you want FRESH air from OUTSIDE blowing into your car so that the windows don’t get all foggy. If you’re driving around with foggy windows and you can’t figure out how to fix the problem (don’t use RECIRCULATE on your heater), you’re a dumb ass.

3. Professors that announce at the beginning of the semester that all tests, quizzes, etc. are open book and then announce two hours before said exam that it’s NOT open book deserve the flu they are suffering with.

4. I was listening to a Mac podcast on the way to school this morning and decided to shut it off and delete it off my iPod. I am a rabid user of all things Apple but quite frankly the stereotypical Mac fanboy makes me want to vomit. It’s a company, not a religion. I hold nothing against those that choose to use Linux or Windows and would gladly help anyone. It’s a little more painful to help Windows users but I can deal with it. Apple bollocks their software just as much as Microsoft does so come down off the cross.

5. I am not going to get into the habit of playing hip hop and rap during my DJ gigs (there’s a very few customers that request it) and if they want that kind of music I’m not the guy for the job.

6. I am sick of the snow. I used to love winter. But that love has been lost. I’d rather deal with rain than with snow. Give me between 60 and 75 degrees fahrenheit, no matter the precipitation and I’d be quite content.

7. Apparently the writer’s strike is over. I find myself not giving a damn, though I don’t know why I even mention it since our current television line up includes only three programs: “Las Vegas”, “Private Practice” and “American Idol”. I gave up on “Heroes” halfway through the second season and nothing else really holds my interest.

8. I’ve decided that I want to go to a rugby game, though I know little about the sport. I also want to play on a gay football team. I don’t know what makes the team gay because all football players pat each others’ arses, but there you are.

My sweetheart is south of the Mason-Dixon line on business. He gets to run around in shirt sleeves, I bundle up on this St. Valentine’s Day. He wines and dines with customers, I sine and cosine with tests. Tonight we’ll be snuggled naked under the covers but hundreds of miles apart; one on a Nokia, the other on an iPhone. Even though we have nearly a dozen Valentine’s Day under our belt I still got choked up when I left a handmade card on the kitchen counter, so he would be surprised at 4:30 this morning as he made his way to the airport.

I think I feel a little melancholy. Perhaps I’ll make popcorn.

Earl and I have lived at our current address for over four years. The previous owners and builders of our home, apparently unable to afford their dream home any longer, temporarily moved to the house next door when they sold us their house. They were going to stay there until they could find another house to move to. I think they find us creepy or something because they don’t wave when we wave to them in a neighborly way, nor have they ever asked for a cup of sugar. But I don’t care about the sugar part.

So they’ve lived next door for four years. Is it unreasonable for me to have the expectation that they would have changed their address by now? The post office stopped forwarding their mail years ago, and now we get all their tax documents, magazine subscriptions and various other doo-dads. Like a good neighbor I’ve trotted across the yard and delivered their mail for them. They’re usually not home so I wedge it in the front door. I guess it’s the right thing to do but it’s becoming a pain in the ass. I think I’m just irked by the fact that it’s been over four years and we are still getting their mail. How hard can it be to change your address, especially on your financial accounts including your investments, checking account and health insurance forms?

I’m tempted to just throw it out with the rest of the junk mail but my conscience won’t let me do that.

Time to take another walk across the yard.

My body is instinctively kicking into hibernation mode these days. There are times when I like to embrace my loner side and this seems to be one of these times. I don’t know if it’s the cold or what but I’m feeling content just doing little things around the house and losing myself in my schoolwork and projects.

I’m enjoying my school semester so far, though I have a bunch of tests coming up in the next week or two so that may change my outlook a little bit. I feel confident that I’ll do fine though, so far everything is ‘clicking’. I’m struggling a little bit with Professor Frightful and his cast of voices in the chalkboard, as he seems to be speaking in circles around calculus, but close attention to the text and intensive googling seems to remedy that little obstacle.

All in all life is quiet, but life is good. I think I’m ready for spring. In the meantime I’ll just sit back, relax and quietly enjoy my own little realm.

It was a number of years ago that the US FCC (Federal Communications Commission) considerably relaxed the rules of radio station ownership. These changes resulted in large corporations buying up a ton of the Mom and Pop stations in our area. They held onto them for several years, using the stations to simulcast broadcasts from larger cities and then after discovering that the audience felt alienated by this approach which in turn caused them to lose money, the stations were then sold off to the highest bidder.

The highest bidders on these stations turned out to be religious-based companies in many circumstances. Driving from Albany to Utica today I scanned the dial and hit three religious stations between 99.1 and 102.1. There were others, many of which were duplicates/simulcasts of the three different stations I heard in that span. I think in all I stumbled upon seven stations broadcasting religious programming within a 75 mile radius of any given point along my journey.

That’s a whole lot of preachin’.

I find the concept of a religious radio station to be odd (and it certainly helps boost iPod sales). Growing up in rural Upstate New York being a God fearing Christian was assumed. You went to church on a regular basis (even if that regular basis was twice a year), you put money in the offering plate and you learned the Lord’s Prayer (even if it involved singing the Top 40 version in your head to recite it properly). In my family, religion wasn’t something that we talked about. At all. Ever. Once in a while I’d pose a question to my mother and she’d answer it in her best “mom-ism” (i.e. “God can hear all telephone calls at the same time”) but other than that religious discussions were kept at a minimum.

I guess there was an unspoken code in my upbringing that stated that to be preachy of your religious beliefs was tacky. Your religious beliefs were a personal connection between you and your chosen deity. They should be quietly and privately celebrated. The loudest you should get is with a hearty “Amen” at the end of the supper prayer. To inflict those beliefs on another was rude. I don’t think this approach was a bad thing.

I recognise that everyone has their own (or lack thereof) religious beliefs. I don’t care what people believe. If you feel your just reward is earned by worshipping a bottle of ketchup then get crazy with the ketchup, I’m certainly not going to stop you. However, don’t infringe on my territory by telling me that I have to worship a bottle of ketchup. You’ve got your way, I’ve got mine. It’s a bit of a leap for me to admit this but while I have my own spiritual beliefs (which would be considered to be part of “the fringe”), I don’t subscribe to the whole organised religion thing. I believe to pigeon-hole “God” into a “He” that gets cranky from time to time and sends his children to eternal damnation is utter rubbish. To me the idea of throwing more money into the collection plate during one hour out of 168 (and then be mean as hell the other 167 hours in a week) just so you get in the express lane to “heaven” is crazy. Organised religion makes it too complicated; I believe the message is simply “live a good life, do good things, show respect, share your love”.

But that doesn’t really make people money, does it? Fear is what makes those in power money. “You can’t eat meat on Friday. You can’t masturbate. You can’t love someone of the same sex. If you do any of these things, you’re going to hell.” I remember asking my mother what hell was. She looked around nervously (because we didn’t talk about these things) and then cautioned out this answer. “I believe this is hell. If we survive this, we get into heaven.”

In many ways, I think Mom had it right.

Anyway, so when I stumble upon the evergrowing number of religious stations on the radio, my first thought is “how rude!”. That thought is quickly followed up with a “they must not believe what they’re saying if they have to say it so much.” Then I hear “Blah blah blah Hallelujah!” It doesn’t even sound as friendly as Charlie Brown’s teacher voice.

A number of years ago I hired a man that was quite religious. I knew it going into the employment contract; he mentioned his church a LOT on his resume. However, his qualifications were unparalleled and his religious beliefs were none of my business. Until he told me, on his second day of work, that I would be burning in hell because of my relationship with Earl. That’s when I smiled and sweetly said, “You can read your Bible all you want. You can believe your Bible with every ounce of being. You can go to church every waking moment and you can give your entire salary as an offering for the fast track to your heaven.

“Just don’t beat me over the head with your Bible.” He never said another word on the subject.