Ponderings and Musings

So my husband and I traveled to Upstate New York to visit my family for the holidays. We arrived Thursday night.

To save a little money we decided to stay at a Microtel. The property is fairly new as it’s sitting on the grounds of one of the many malls called “Pyramid Mall” that formerly dotted the landscape in my old stomping grounds. We figured we just needed a place to sleep and it was relatively close to my family so it should work out. It was a decent bargain.

The stay has been good. Not great, not even very good, but good. It adequately fit the bill. But there’s been some weirdness going on.

When we checked in, the young woman behind the counter looked at us but didn’t say a word. I stared at her, she stared at me. It appeared she used a Sharpie to apply her makeup. Finally I cocked an eyebrow and she said she needed my license. She scanned it (when did that start happening?) and gave us two room keys. She eyed my husband the whole time, either wondering why he was waiting with me or wondering how the two of us were going to fit in a queen sized bed.

After getting the two room keys I started to walk away. She made some noises that beckoned my attention and apparently I needed to sign here, sign there, initial there, sign here. So I did after she pointed a scribbling on the paper she had placed on the counter. After I was done we walked away.

She didn’t say a word, she went back and curled up on a couch in the lobby.

She was still there 12 hours later when we headed out for breakfast. The next evening, when we came back from a fun filled day of touring my hometown, she was there, albeit in the same Sharpie but in different clothes. Feeling daring I said, “good evening!”. She blinked and said hello in the most monotone, deadpan voice one could imagine.

Some other things that were odd: it was faster for me to walk up, down, and up the stairs again than taking the elevator from floor one to floor two. The coin operated laundry units were in the hallway, not a laundry room. And the air conditioning/heater unit, which was located under the couch built into the window casing (like other Microtels I’ve been in) was loud enough to wake the dead. I have no idea as to why hotel chains feel very loud heating units are a pleasant experience, but then again I write software, not manage hospitality.

We probably won’t stay there again. I hope the woman at the front desk can contain her excitement.

I’ve gushed about “Madam Secretary” before. Sunday night was the series finale of this magnificent show and the last episode was absolutely amazing. I’m going to miss the dose of governmental sanity every week. I look forward to seeing what my straight crush Téa Leoni brings us next.

I feel like this is one of the last intelligent shows left on network television, and now it has left us. Thank you for six magnificent years.

We went to the National WWII Museum today. The campus is impressive with several buildings connected by pedestrian bridges.

Since today was the day before National Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day, the museum was very busy. There were a few bus loads of folks coming in; the vast majority of them were in their later years. There were also several members of the military in uniform making their way through the exhibits.

The exhibits are very thorough and very immersive. Some areas of the museum have Disney-like experiences in that there’s a lot of lighting and sound and other creative effects to give an impression of what it was like for soldiers during the various battles around the world. The museum also has a “dog tag” that you scan as you enter the self-guided tour. The software then assigns you a member of the armed forces from WWII and you learn about their specific experience as you make your way through the various exhibits. The educational use of technology was very impressive. The soldier I learned about didn’t talk about his experience for 60 years after he returned home, but finally made his story known and contributed to the video and audio experience narrated by the interactive software.

In my school days we always tackled history chronologically and it always seemed like there was rarely time to discuss World War II and more recent wars. I learned a lot today and the WWII Museum should be a must-see for any American that is able to stop by the campus.

Highly recommended.

Back in the mid 1990s my grandfather told me I needed to marry a woman that could cook. Later on, after I had been with my husband for a couple of years and my grandfather was enjoying a second helping of my husband’s famous baked beans, he told me my husband was a good man.

I will never forget that day.

My husband can cook, is quite amazing at it, and he amazes me day after day and year after year. He can get fancy or he can keep it deliciously simple. No matter the approach, I am thankful for anything he makes and I am constantly impressed. I never take my luck in this department for granted.

Earl made an amazing Thanksgiving meal again this year. Our family thoroughly enjoyed the experience. We have been comatose on the couch ever since we finished the meal time.

Maybe it’s time for a snack.

Today’s line at the world’s largest Starbucks

Even during the ramping up of the holiday season I enjoy walking along Chicago’s Magnificent Mile. Michigan Ave is a hotspot for tourists looking for a midwest “Fifth Avenue” experience and the Mag Mile fills this need well. As I make my way through the crowded sidewalks I’m always interested to hear the various accents and non-English languages being spoken. I love living in a prominent destination for people across the world.

An eastward view along the Riverwalk.

…

A part of me has a hard time walking along the Mag Mile as there too many homeless people taking shelter and (usually) quietly asking for money. A veteran by the name of Cliff was bundled up with only one hand holding a McDonalds cup exposed to the outside world. The tattered sign contained the aforementioned details and indicated he was homeless and looking for bus money to get to a shelter. I had no reason to doubt the authenticity of his sign so I stopped and put some money in his cup. The bills made no noise against the plastic of the cup so I decided to speak.

“Thank you for your service, Cliff. This will help you can get to a warm place this evening.”

A surprisingly young looking man came out from under the blankets and looked in the cup. His looked up and his eyes said thank you as he removed the money I had placed there. My eyes teared up as I walked away and resumed my way to catch the Brown Line to my warm place for the evening. I couldn’t help but think about the fact that we send our citizens off to war or other military activity, they do their part, they keep up their end of the bargain, and then we fail at supporting them when they come back home.

Our country is better than this. We as a society need to fix the homeless epidemic.

I hope Cliff is warm tonight.

Apple prides itself on the way their Apple Watch inspires you to be fit and healthy. As people around the world stand up in unison at 10 minutes to the top of the hour, they do so because their Apple Watch just reminded them that standing is healthy and you should stand at least once an hour for half of the day.

Everyday.

Without fail.

Stand up.

Everyday.

On the 50th minute.

The problem with Apple Watch is that without a bunch of setting changes, it will never give you a break. You will be reminded that yesterday you did better than you’re doing today and with a little effort you can do better today than you did yesterday. It’s a cheery bit of guilt to keep on exercise. Never take a break. Close those rings every day. Do not stop. Do not rest. Keep on closing those rings.

Our bodies need rest. We need rest once in a while to give our body a chance to rebuild that which we’ve been working. If we don’t rest we plateau. We get tired. We get cranky.

I think I’m using the “royal” we now.

I appreciate what Apple is trying to do but I think their approach needs a bit of refinement.

And a donut once in a while.

I’m a bad gay in that I’m not particularly a fan of Barbra Streisand. Isn’t that awful? Gay men and lesbians alike lose their minds when she hits the stage but I just think, “yeah, she’s not bad”. I enjoy her motivation and her stamina but I don’t get all breathless when she sings. Nevertheless, I do enjoy some of her work and whenever I eat pasta the 1980 hit “Guilty” goes through my head.

On a never-ending quest to lose weight I strive to eat healthy more often than when I’m not eating healthy. Pasta is sort of a no-no in the “my, but look at the size of your spare tire” clique, but sometimes I want some pasta. My husband tries to help the situation by buying protein leaning pasta and that keeps Bab’s voice from going through my head, but Thursday night we went to a local Italian place and I couldn’t help myself: rigatoni and peas were the order of the day.

It was delicious.

In a weird attempt to keep Barbra’s crooning of “Guilty” from ransacking my brain for the following 48 hours I opted to sit in a way at the restaurant table that would have displeased Barbra. By sitting in her preferred seat (where her profile would have met her acceptable standards), I prevented her from entering my realm and I enjoyed the pasta dish in peace. Twice. I ate half of it at dinner and ate the other half at lunch the next day.

Welcome to the way my brain works. Have a seat, you look hungry.