My husband is busy in the kitchen. I’m not allowed beyond the breakfast bar. It’s just part of our “thing”.
Good Tidings.
The Hallmark Channel is reversing its decision to pull commercials containing a same-sex couple kissing and is re-establishing the relationship with Zola, the advertiser.
Hallmark CEO's statement: "I am sorry for the hurt and disappointment this has caused… Hallmark Channel will be reaching out to Zola to reestablish our partnership and reinstate the commercials… We will continue to look for ways to be more inclusive & celebrate our differences"
— Brian Stelter (@brianstelter) December 16, 2019
Hallmark CEO’s statement: “I am sorry for the hurt and disappointment this has caused… Hallmark Channel will be reaching out to Zola to reestablish our partnership and reinstate the commercials… We will continue to look for ways to be more inclusive & celebrate our differences”
Microtel.
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.
Old Connection.
I’ve always been fascinated by things that are connected. Before my interest in computers formed, as a young kid I was fascinated by power lines, especially the high-tension wires that criss-crossed their way across the country side, connecting the villages and cities to the power plants in the area. One of my earliest memories of this interest were a set of (what later knew to be) 115 kV lines that paralleled Interstate 81 north of Syracuse, N.Y. The lines in question used towers or supports that did not have four feet firmly planted on the ground, but a single ladder type arrangement. There are variations of this design all over Upstate New York, mostly in the old Niagara-Mohawk service area. In all our travels I’ve never seen this design used in any other state.
On our recent trip to see my family I noticed the towers and lines along this corridor are being replaced. My first thought was that they’re not that old, but then I realized I’m over 50 years old and they’re at least that if not more, so I decided to do a little bit of research.
The lines follow an old railroad line dating to the turn of the 20th century. The power lines appear on surveys as early as 1920, so they’re most likely over 100 years old.
Now I get why National Grid (the current power company) is replacing this little slice of my childhood.
Looking at the photo I hastily snapped while driving on Interstate 81, you’ll notice the new towers (or pylons) are dark brown, taller, and have a bolder impact in the aesthetics of the landscape.
I’m sure they’ll last at least 100 years.
Addendum: I love the Internet. More information on this project is available here.
Compatibility.
Growing up both my husband and I were in charge of the Christmas Tree lights in our family. I spent hours finding the proper lights for the tree our family would put up, Earl had a very specific way of putting the lights on his family’s tree.
Our approaches to putting lights on the Christmas Tree are completely opposite from one another. I always started the bottom, he starts at the top. He puts the star or other tree top on first, I put it on last. He goes counter-clockwise, I go clockwise. Everything is opposite.
So naturally we now do it his way. We’ve done it his way for 23 years.
We’re holding up just fine. And everything turned out beautifully.
Traffic.
I keep getting alerts from the WordPress app that this blog is seeing an unusually high amount of traffic. The 965% increase in daily hits are all focused on this blog entry from 2010, called “Gay”, which features the 1976 episode of Alice called, “Alice Gets A Pass”.
I have no idea why the sudden interest in this post, but OK, let’s say hey! Hey!
Sweat Assistant.
Truman was absolutely mystified by my Resistance Band Workout this morning. For the first 20 minutes he simply sat in the doorway, head cocked, watching me strike various poses as I worked my way through a free video on YouTube.
When I decided to do some planks is when he became a comedian. As I struggled to maintain a plank he walked under me, rubbed his butt on my arms, and waved his tail in my face. On the bright side, he didn’t jump up on my back.
I’m not sure my plank could have handled an additional 15 pound cat coming along for the ride.
Series Finale.
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.
Palm.
I had my palm read while visiting Jackson Square in New Orleans. The woman was sitting at a card table on the square, dimly lit by the sparse number of street lights and ambient lights from nearby building. Everything was purple: the cushions on the chairs, her head wrap, her robe. I had a choice of having my palm read or a tarot card reading and I chose the former. She dove right in.
As she told me what she was seeing on my hand I couldn’t help but notice the mystical vibe she had going on with her eyes. While she couldn’t really be categorized as having cleanliness as a life priority, her eyes spoke and conveyed just as much as her friendly, confident sounding voice did. I did notice she wasn’t really interested in dental care either.
As she made her way around my hand I was surprised at how accurate she was with my personality traits and the like. Apparently I am going to live a long time and “keep all my marbles” along the way. She gave me numbers and I liked them. I like the sound of her interpretation of what lies ahead.
At the end of the reading she wondered if I had any questions and we spoke briefly around that sort of thing. Her fee was at scale with my satisfaction of the experience and I paid her what I thought my experience was worth. She wishes me a pleasant evening.
It was a very interesting experience. Hearing her beliefs of who I am made me a bit introspective and amped up some of my determination again.
I’d do it again.
