Ponderings and Musings

I finally gave in and went to the doctor’s today for a small rash I’ve had on my forehead for the past couple of months. I know, I should have gone to the doctor sooner but the rash wasn’t spreading, wasn’t getting worse and it wasn’t impeding my looks so I was just dealing with it.

I hate going to the doctor’s, despite the fact that our family doctor is very nice and not bad to look at in all his yummy scruffiness. I mean, who likes going to the doctor? At age 38 though, I suppose it’s the responsible thing to do so I even made an appointment for my yearly physical that’s a year too late. At least I’m making an effort.

One thing that surprised me was when he told me blood pressure was “excellent” at 130/78. During the last couple of visits, over a year ago, he sort of scolded me for high blood pressure (158/98) and was urging for a physical then, but I ignored him and just avoided going. Today he pointed out that I was almost 35 pounds heavier a year ago (I didn’t realize I had lost that much weight) and that was a good thing. I gave myself a mental pat on the back.

All this healthy good news makes me yearn to jump on the bike and go for a ride. I always feel the need to go cycling between the middle of November and the middle of February, then I sort of lose interest when the weather is actually conducive to riding my bike.

So now I have a little cream to put on the little rash over my eye. I have a physical in December and he’s going to set up an appointment with a dermotologist just to make sure I don’t have anything else going on. He seemed particularly interested in the freckles on my head, I reminded him that he wouldn’t even know they were there if I wasn’t bald and then I assured him that I’m often well basted in sunscreen or at least I keep my head covered with a hat as appropriate.

It looks like I’m going to be around for a while longer.

I rarely do these meme things but today I figured what the heck. Courtesy of Karl and The Persian Guy

A is for Age: 38
B is for Beer of choice: Michelob Ultra. I have a figure to maintain.
C is for Career: Once in working with the disabled, then I was a radio DJ and program director, currently in IT, I hope to become a traffic engineer.
D is for favorite Drink: Unsweetened iced tea.
E is for Essential item I use everyday: Mach III over my head
F is for Favorite song at the moment: “Jump (Extended Mix)”, Madonna.
G is for favorite Game: “Let me In, Let Me Out!” with our cat.
H is for Hometown: Little tiny hamlet of Richland, New York.
I is for Instruments I play: Tuba. Some piano. Some other brass instruments a little bit.
J is for favorite Juice: OJ
K is for Kids: None. Once upon a time Earl and I were going to adopt but never did.
L is for Last kiss: 6:30 this morning.
M is for Marriage: Absolutely, bring it on Governor Elect Elliot Spitzer.
N is for Name of my best friend: My partner Earl.
O is for Overnight Hospital stays: Too many to count. I like to think of them as bionics upgrades.
P is for Phobias: I used to wig out about elevators but not anymore.
Q is for Quote: “Life is such a sweet insanity”, Roberta Flack, theme from The Hogan Family.
R is for biggest Regret: Learn, don’t regret.
S is for Self confidence: I’m working on it. By 38 you’d think it’d fully be here by now.
T is for Time I wake up: Variable depending on my work schedule.
U is for Underwear: Tighty-whiteys or boxers or none. Depends on my mood.
V is for Vegetable I love: I love all vegetables!
W is for Worst habit: Losing my temper and saying stupid things.
X is for X-rays I’ve had: Oh lots. I’m a vogue cover model of the “inside out” set.
Y is for Yummy food I make: Chocolate chip coookies courtesy of my grandmother’s recipe
Z is for Zodiac: Cancer.

Our cat Tom is a rebel. He watched me last night as I cleaned the house from top to bottom. Always wary of the vacuum cleaner, he sits perched on the back of the couch or on the bed and keeps watch on the proceedings of cleaning the house. Apparently he didn’t like last night’s proceedings because this morning I watched him fling cat litter out of his box all over the floor, and I just know it was on purpose, and I now he’s busying himself by eating half a nugget of kibble and spitting the rest on the floor.

I think he thinks he’s funny.

Tonight after class I’ll have to chase him around with the vacuum cleaner. Calm down, I’m kidding. I’ll chase Earl instead.

This morning while eating breakfast, I saw Tom go scurrying across the kitchen floor and tear into the dining room at high speed. He appeared to be in pursuit of something. Turns out he was chasing something across the floor.

It was a dust bunny.

Since I had shoveled a space for myself at the kitchen table just moments before, I figured that the universe was giving me not-so-subtle hints that we needed to clean the house.

I don’t know what we were thinking three years ago. “Let’s buy a house twice the size of the old one, and to keep it interesting, let’s leave the housekeeper behind!” What the hell was I thinking. It’s almost as ludicrous as having a performance “Sleeping Beauty” next to the service porch of the Brady house.

Granted, I often referred to our old housekeeper as Agnes Destructo and I often wondered if she was going to go up in flames from smoking while spraying bleach as an air freshener, but at least the house looked good.

So tonight I dusted and swiffered and sucked up everything in sight. By the way, can someone please tell me the purpose of the hole with a moveable cover in the vacuum cleaner hose? What is the purpose of that? To reduce the amount of suction? “My God, I’ve sucked up the cat, better release the pressure.” I don’t think so. I find it annoying and worthy of a swath of duct tape.

Our county has a crazy code that every home built after 1995 must have a telephone jack in each room. I guess the geniuses had never heard of a cordless phone getup before and decided they were doing the public service a favor. You know what they should have done? Required central vacuum systems in every home.

I was a spoiled little cub growing up. My grandparents had a beautiful house next door to our mobile home. Grandma would bake cookies or some other good-farm-wife inspired dessert weekday afternoons and I would trot over after getting off the bus to catch “Bewitched” and “I Dream of Jeannie”, eat some cookies, drink some milk and hang out with Grams as she did her household chores. Their house was so big it had two central vacuum systems (one at each end). Gram never lugged around a vacuum cleaner canister get up, getting all twisted in the cord and emptying the bag after every room because of all the dust she sucked up. No, she had a hose and a wand that she plugged into ports strategically located throughout the house. No muss, no fuss. When my dad built our house a few years later, it had a central vacuum system. Again, no muss, no fuss.

Why the hell doesn’t this house that’s less than ten years old have such a thing? I have a good mind to buy one and put one in myself. Some pipe, some drilling, a little luck and voila, instant domestic bliss. Why get a sock stuck in the wand with a hole when you can lodge it nice and tight in some dark recess of a wall?

Let’s face it, if I have the energy to install a central vacuum system then I must certainly have the energy to clean the house the old fashioned way. By witchcraft.

I keep telling Earl that I’m going to hire a housekeeper for this house. His only requirement is that they’re male, naked and work after hours.

Sounds good to me.

The photo in this entry by Karl, and another taken from a different angle, have been popping up all over the internet since Tuesday’s election. It’s taken during Senator Rick Santorum’s concession speech, after losing to Pennsylvania’s Bob Casey. It’s a picture of Senator Santorum’s family.

Now Rick Santorum has said and done some vile things, particularly regarding gay folks, including some blather about us doing the nasty with animals or some such other idiotic thing. So at the very least the guy is an idiot that made it way too far up the food chain, but I personally believe he’s just evil.

Be that as it may, I just can’t bring myself to post this picture on my own blog. And it’s because of the youngest child shown in the photo. She’s just way too sad. I can’t take the sight of sad people, especially children. I can’t even take seeing a cartoony sad face. That purple pill commercial where the little bubble with a face is all sad and depressed and is bouncing around looking all forlorn ruins my day, despite the fact that’s he’s happy at the end.

Earl and I have a tradition of rewarding serving staff with a happy face on our credit card receipts at restaurants. This is in addition to, not in place of the gratuity. A number of years ago we stopped at the Viewmont Mall outside of Scranton, Pa. on one of our trips. I believe the restaurant was TGIFriday’s or something like it. The waitress was a mess. None of our food was right (I believe I had ordered baked chicken and got linguini with clam sauce), we didn’t get any drinks, despite repeated requests throughout the meal and the appetizer came out last, with our drinks. That was after waiting for 15 minutes for the server to even get to our table. Still, we tipped her. Very little. I told Earl that perhaps he should hold off on the happy face. She didn’t deserve it. Instead of leaving the space blank, he drew a sad face.

OH. MY. GOD.

I just found that to be so wrong. After a rapid fire stream of hysterical words, I didn’t speak to Earl for the rest of the trip. I couldn’t. I felt bad for the server that had served me clam sauce instead of chicken and withheld my iced tea. She had earned a sad face.

I finally calmed down and I must say that from that experience on I’ve handled the doling out of happy faces when we are dining out.

Back to the Santorums. Now I understand that the little girl in that picture who’s bawling her eyes out is probably going to grow up to be some Republinazi who will gleefully throw fuel on the fire they are using to burn the likes of me. But I don’t want her to be sad. I want her to be happy. There’s always a bright spot to everything, like perhaps she can go to public school now instead of being cyber schooled with her ugly siblings.

Update at 4:42 p.m. Eastern: O.k., maybe I snickered once.

Update at 4:56 p.m. Eastern: I need to just let this go. I really do. Maybe I snickered again and added a snark:

So here it is the first Monday of November and the day before Election Day here in the United States. There are many things to be happy about, including the fact that the weather is absolutely gorgeous for this time of year and that it’s the last day of election ads for a while, thank goodness.

As part of my “Healthy Living Yo-Yo Practices”, I’m suffering from a bit of caffeine withdrawal today. Over the weekend if I was drinking beer or chocolate martinis, I was drinking unsweetened iced tea or soda pop. So today I’m paying the price for my work habit of drinking lots of water and avoiding the caffeine.

Consequently, I was becoming a litle irritable. So I had a Diet Pepsi and I feel loads better.

Now if we could just do something about all these political ads we’re being bombarded with today.

Sometimes you just need to take a few moments and reset your batteries, especially on a Friday afternoon after a busy week at work. I had a little comp time to use after last week’s on call so I thought I would take this afternoon off and catch up on some laundry and other domestic issues and do a little work on my websites. I’m listening to some music through iTunes while I geek a bit on the internet.

I finished my first adult education class last night and am proud to say I earned an “A”. The next class starts this coming Tuesday, it’s basically level two of the CAD program I’m learning. I’m looking forward to continuing the experience. This next class has a project due at the end of December so that will be keeping me busy.

Earl and I were originally going to go to Virginia this weekend to do some clock swapping with another school clock collector, but Earl isn’t sure when he’s getting out of work tonight and there was a chance that we had commitments this weekend so we’ve postponed that trip. We’re probably going to do something, we just haven’t decided what yet.

Tonight we’re joining my sister for dinner in Syracuse as she’s back from Russia for a few weeks and there’s not a lot of time to get out there and see her. We’re looking forward to the visit.

It was a little over two years ago. My sister and only sibling, one of the best little sisters a man can have, was lying in a hospital bed in intensive care with a close cousin of Legionnaire’s Disease. My mother, aunt and uncle and cousin Theresa were at the hospital every waking moment, as close to my sister as the doctors would allow. I remember the moment as if it were yesterday. Mom was going to catch up the rest of the family on the latest status via cell phone and I had herded her outside to do so by making my “thrashing old lady in the hospital bed” movements, indicating to her the dangers of using her cell phone in the hospital. My aunt and uncle had walked her outside, leaving Theresa and I in the waiting room just outside of intensive care.

It was then that Theresa and I talked about the paths that make up life. Circumstances were making us both re-examine the “grand purpose”. You see, her oldest daughter had suddenly passed on at the age of 20 two days before the previous Christmas. As we sat in that hospital waiting room, it seemed like my sister was knocking at the same door herself. Theresa and I expressed that we both felt the need to do something meaningful with our lives, we both felt that we needed to a make a difference, big or small, by helping others. It was then that I felt like I was a little off my path, because I had just started a new job that while infinitely better than my previous job, still wasn’t quite fitting that need that was lurking in the back of my mind.

I admire people that go out of their way to make the world a better place, but then, who doesn’t? Earl does his part in many ways by asking questions and getting answers when a family member is at the hospital. He’s always the rock (at least on the outside). He’s a leader and that’s admirable. My friend Shirley donned her Halloween costume yesterday afternoon and made patients at the local hospital smile as she passed through the halls as a “free spirit”. I admire that. My cousin Theresa stands strong while the world is seemingly crashing down all around her. I find that amazing.

I guess I try to learn from all these people.

I also admire Rosie O’Donnell. Now I know that she’s a celebrity and all that, and I’ve never met the woman in person but I would like to. Not to be all star-struck and gaga and to hang out or whatever. I don’t want to tell her what a funny person I think she is. No, I just want to shake her hand. I just want to say “thank you Rosie”, for using her celebrity to make the world a better place, through her charities, Katrina relief efforts and for voicing her political views in a such a grounded, educated and yet loud manner.

Sometimes I feel like I’m not making a big enough contribution to the well-being of the world. When I express my doubts, I’m told that by just being myself and being who I am “out loud” that I’m making a difference in the world in my own way. But I wonder if that is enough. I wonder what if I could have made a bigger contribution if I had joined the Peace Corps or stayed working for ARC back in the early 90s instead of pursuing a radio career. Should I have stayed the course and become a teacher?

Working in tech support, I find it frustrating at work when a customer calls in and is absolutely hysterical because they can’t make their medical bill collection calls to those that can’t pay for healthcare. Or another customer can’t send e-mail to their co-worker that sits in the next cubicle over. What about the mother that can’t send e-mail to her son in Iraq because he’s out on the battlefield? What about the child that can’t call his grandfather because that month the grandfather had to make a choice – pay for the heart medicine or the telephone? I feel like so many people are missing the big picture these days.

So I’m going to do my part next Tuesday. I’m going to exercise my right as a U.S. citizen, study up this weekend and I’m going to cast educated, thought out votes. I’ve already told Earl that if our voting place is using electronic voting machines without paper trails that I’m going to request an absentee ballot. I urge anyone that reads this to do the same, get out there and vote, regardless of your beliefs and point of view. Just make an educated decision when you pull the lever or punch the CHAD or touch the screen next Tuesday.

As far as the rest of my journey in this life and helping others, well, I’m still thinking about that part.

Sites of the City: Genesee Street.

Originally uploaded by bluemarvel.

Today at lunch time I took advantage of the beautiful weather and went for a 50 minute walk. I soaked in the sun, felt the warm breeze and let the moment lift my mood. Plus, I remembered to bring the camera along and took a few moments to snap a few photos and appreciate all our little city has to offer. There are times when I think Utica has seen it’s last days, but today I looked for the positive and found it. I’m putting together the photos from the walk and will be posting them shortly.

Here is a shot looking south up the main street of the city, Genesee Street. I’m standing in the middle of the ambitiously named “Busy Corner”. All that’s missing is a bunch of people and a hat to toss in the air.

Earl revealed to me this weekend that he doesn’t like my face as much without my beard. I have to admit that I’m a little taken aback by this because he usually doesn’t comment on this sort of thing. I’ve been bearded for the majority of the past couple of years and I went with this clean shaven look for the past week for something different.

Come to find out, he doesn’t like it. Apparently he likes the “big mustache” look I was sporting over the last half of the summer the best, with the beard coming in second.

I’m glad that he took the time to tell me this and have promptly begun growing my beard back. After all, I can’t get to the big mustache without having a beard first. I shaved my head again too, since neither of us was enjoying the gray showing up. Who put that there anyway?

I’m just happy he was honest with me.