Memories.

Today was “Family Day” in that Earl and I went up to my Dad’s house to spend the afternoon with my dad and stepmom and my sister and her boyfriend. The weather was beautiful so we ate out on the back porch, catching each other up on our current events and reminiscing about the old days. The more wine and beer that was consumed, the livelier the conversation got.

After dinner we headed over to my grandparent’s house, which is across the street from my dad’s house. My grandfather passed a couple of years ago and the house has been sitting empty for the past year or so, on the market, waiting for it’s opportunity to become a home for a new family. I have to admit it’s hard to see your grandparent’s house in that state. It’s weird to walk into the kitchen and not smell something baking in the kitchen.

There are still a few odds and ends left in the house, including the thousands of slides my grandfather took over the past several decades. I have officially inherited all the slides, which I intend on scanning in for digital safekeeping and sharing. Before my grandmother’s death in 1996, my grandparents would travel the country two months out of the year (in February and in September). They usually limited their travels to the U.S. and Canada and embarked on the journey by automobile whenever possible. Talk about the blueprint for Earl and my travel habits! My grandfather was an avid amateur photographer and enjoyed taking slides to share at the holiday gatherings. My grandmother was scrapbooking way before it was en vogue. There are a ton of albums with newspaper clippings which documenting major, minor and mundane events in the little town that I grew up in. In addition, my grandmother also took a bunch of photos, which were all neatly organized in photo albums.

Tonight I snagged a few of the photo albums (temporarily) so that I could scan in the photos. My sister and I were the lucky grandchildren in that we lived next door, and later across the street, from my grandparents. So we are in quite a few photos.

Needless to say, happy tears were flowing before long.

One of the most beautiful things I noticed about the photos is that no matter the circumstance, the timeframe or the location, my grandparents are holding hands when in a ‘posed’ photo together. They were married just shy of 60 years when my grandmother passed on. They always looked happy. And surprisingly, the visited many of the same locations that Earl and I have visited on our adventures. Earl remarked, “So that’s where you get it from.”

Here’s a couple of photos I’ve already scanned in.

The first is from June 1973. My sister and I are playing on the doghouse my father had built for his German Shepherd. This was either from before the dog arrived or after he moved in with the farmer down the street after being asked to leave due to incessant barking.
June 1973.

This photo is from fall 1973. I believe this is from my first day of kindergarten. My mom and my sister joined me while I waited for the bus on the front porch. I really love this picture. My mom has a look of pride in her face that made me tear up when I saw this photo today.
Fall 1973.

This photo is marked September 1974. I believe this is my first motorcycle ride with my father on his 1969 BSA. I seem to recall that there were minor hysterics because Dad thought I was ready to ride when others that the contrary. I also remember being really excited about riding on the back of the motorcycle.
September 1974.

I thank the Universe for blessing me with such a wonderful childhood.

Covering.

Earl and I are just getting back from a Saturday night out on the town. We hadn’t been to the one gay bar here in a long while so we thought we’d go out and see what it’s all about.

There’s not much to talk about. The place was dead.

Back through much of the 1990s there was a *fabulous* DJ at “That Place” that was known for keeping the bar moving. The place was always packed on the weekend and the dance floor was populated with half-naked, sweaty people moving around like a big swarm of flesh.

Tonight you could have shot a cannon off in the place and not hit anyone with the ball.

I did notice a few people that I haven’t seen in a decade or so. One in particular is a man named “Chuck” (not his real name). He’s an attractive enough in a preppy accounting sort of way. Like many of us, his hair has thinned out considerably in the past ten years. Lots of men in this position opt to buzz their hair or shave their head completely bald. I find this to be quite attractive.

Unfortunately, he went in another direction. He opted to go the Hair Club for Men route.

Oy.

While I believe that everyone has the right to do what they need to do to feel good about themselves, I must say that I don’t understand the hair piece thing. I just don’t get it. Do people nuzzle their nose into their hair and say “Gee, your synthetic fibers smell terrific?”

I don’t know what these hair enhancements are made of, aside from those spray cans of Rust-Oleum like paint, but even if they’re made of real hair they don’t seem to be doing a satisfactory job of looking like the real deal. Perhaps it’s the glorious technicolor used to make it look “real”.

I say when you’re faced with hair loss just buzz it all off and go naked.

Party Weekend.

It seems this weekend is all about partying for us in our merry little home, so I’ll share a music video to keep this party moving.

Have fun!

OMG, for some reason I just remembered what I would announce at the end of the night when I was a club DJ. “Drive safely getting home, ride safely when you get home.”

Such wit.

O.k., one more.

Green, Green Grass of Home.

Today Earl was so sweet. He had a gift delivered to the house. I love it when he gives me presents.

Especially when it’s our old riding lawn mower!

I have not seen this lawn mower since the summer of 2004. After spending hours on it summer after summer, we decided that we would enlist the aid of a lawn service when we moved into the new house. So we let the guys at Earl’s plant borrow the lawn mower so they could tidy up around their property. With the return of my beloved friend, memories of mowing acres and acres of grass at our old home came flooding back like nobody’s business.

When Earl and I discussed my return to school and worked out the finances, we decided that the lawn service would obviously have to go. This created two issues in our home. First of all, we’d have to get the lawn mower back and actually start using it but more importantly, we’d no longer have a weekly dose of eye candy when hot lawn men came shirtless and did their business around the lawn for a little while. It’s amazing what landscapers can do to perk up landowners.

Normally I’d wait until mid June to start mowing the lawn, because after all, that’s when it’s perfect for making hay but I decided to get wild this year and start mowing the lawn right away. After all, the neighbor to our right (the original owners of our house) started mowing today and I was feeling competitive. I don’t know if this is something that happens when men get older but now I actually care about what the lawn looks like and whether it’s at the same height as the neighbor’s lawn. In the old days I wouldn’t think about cutting lawn until I could no longer see the cat standing in the middle of it.

So now I have a new way to spend an hour or two on Friday afternoons. I’ll be mowing the lawn. Maybe I’ll get wild and do it shirtless, just to perk up the old blood.

Bird Call.

How incredibly odd is it that I just hung my head out the back door and screamed “Shut Up!” at the loud crows in the backyard?

They did quiet down though.

Group Effort.

As my first semester as a college student comes to an end, today we had our last regular class in Sociology 101. I have loved this class the entire term and I have to admit that I’m a little sad to see it ending. It has really sparked my interest in conversation and debate as to what is going on the world today. The professor has kept the class interesting. I’m sure there are many taking the same course throughout The Empire State that see it as a requirement, personally I have regarded the entire experience as a delight.

Today was part two of our last exam (before finals). On Tuesday we had the standard multiple choice/true or false/scantron sheet type exam testing our knowledge on several chapters in the required textbooks and the class conversations over the past six weeks or so. I didn’t ace the exam but I feel that I did really well on it. The score from Tuesday’s task was 75% of the exam score. Today’s part made up for the other 25% of the score and it was a group effort.

The class started out with 80 or so students. Over the course of the semester it has shrunk down to around 40 or so. We broke off into groups of six and each group had a simple task: create utopia. Based on all that we had studied, debated and discussed, we were to create what we felt was a utopian society. After 30 minutes, we shared with the class what our community was like and if we gained members we earned more points towards the final, if we lost members we lost points.

Since the division of groups was left up to the students, it was interesting, although very predictable to see how the groups formed and the outcome of their efforts.

The young crowd that sat in the back row the entire semester, listening to their iPods for much of the discussion, formed a society called “Gotham” where there were no restrictions on drinking, drugs or sex.

The religious crowd that sat in the front row the entire semester (and whispered constantly until I ‘accidently’ kicked them in the back of the chair on more than one occasion) came up with a society who’s name escapes me but was focused on family values. They made a big deal about marriage being limited to between a man and a woman. No shockers there.

My group was an eclectic bunch. It was comprised of Maria, who is a mother of three and a year old than me, Sean, the student that tries hard to maintain that “C” while working a full-time job, Samantha, the cross country runner who always has fresh, wet hair, Brigide who made one of her handful of appearances this semester, Yurki, the very chatty 20 something that is not quite fluent in English and me. I was the spokesperson and note taker for the group (another shocker).

Our society was christened “Aipotu”. Given the task of making a civilization in 30 minutes or less (Domino’s couldn’t even deliver one in that amount of time), we were an all green society that home-schooled their children by rotating them through all the participating households (for cross-cultural and intergenerational benefits). The people of Aipotu believed in “live and let live”. The only crime would if you infringed on the rights of another, or if you did not prescribe to the “live and let live” principles. Punishment involved working manual labor (I proposed men had to be shirtless, which garnered smirks from my groupmates) in our planet friendly mines or building windmills.

In the end, no one moved from one community to another. Aipotu earned us all 25 points of this part of the exam. While that in itself was quite groovy, I must say that having an open and honest discussion with my classmates while formulating this backwards version of Utopia was an excellent way to bring this course to a close.

Now to get through the final next Thursday!

Listen.

This evening Earl and I attended “A Conversation with Diane Rehm”. Diane Rehm, host of the appropriately titled “The Diane Rehm Show” on NPR by way of WAMU in Washington, D.C. was in the area to speak about her experiences as a talk show host for over twenty five years from inside the beltway.

The discussion was absolutely fascinating.

Ms. Rehm opened the conversation talking about the recent Don Imus controversy and the fact that there doesn’t seem to be much listening going on anymore. World leaders are no longer listening, the American public doesn’t seem interested in listening, no one is listening anymore. She pointed out the importance of listening to all sides of an topic, even if it’s difficult to do so because of one’s vehement opposition to the other viewpoint.

That last point is something that I am going to try to better myself at.

Ms. Rehm spoke for about ten minutes before opening the forum to questions from the audience. Many people asked questions from a wide range of topics, including the war, the news sources she uses as prep for her show, her favorite interview (Mr. Rogers, the last interview before he died) and more. I wanted to ask the question but the forum came to close before I had the opportunity.

I was going to ask her for her opinion on the blogosphere.

“The Diane Rehm Show” is broadcast daily from WAMU in Washington, D.C. It is carried on most NPR stations, including WRVO-FM here in Central New York.

Customer Service.

Monday, April 30
Them: “Hello, this is Davidson’s Chevrolet in Rome (author’s note- caller ID says they’re calling from Watertown, over 80 miles away) and we’d like to let you know that the part you ordered has arrived. Could you please call and schedule a time to bring your car in?”
Me (ignoring the fact that she wants me to hang up and call back to schedule an appointment): “Uh, the car is already there. You looked at the problem, determined that you needed to order a part and so you did. Can you just go ahead and install it?”
Them: “I’ll call parts.”
Me: “Shouldn’t you call service?”
Them: “Yes. Thank you. Good-bye.”

Wednesday, May 2
Earl: “Hello, I’m calling to check the status of my car. The part has been in since Monday. Has it been installed?”
Them: “We are waiting for you to bring the car in.”
Earl: “You’ve had the car for the past week.”
Them: “We don’t know where it is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday, April 26
Earl at the bank: “I’d like to apply for a home improvement loan.” (patio and landscaping)
HSBC: “No problem.”
They complete the application, Earl signs his life away.
HSBC: “We’ll have an answer for you on Friday, Monday at the latest. I’ll call your cell phone when I have an answer.”

Wednesday, May 2
Earl (after searching 45 minutes for the local branch phone number, since HSBC only wants you to call Singapore, Pakistan or India, depending on who’s cheapest today): “I’m calling for the status of my loan application. It’s been almost a week and I was told that I would have an answer by Monday at the latest.”
HSBC: “We don’t have any record of a loan application.”

This, gentle readers, is one of the many reasons that Old Glory is going right down the tubes. Lousy customer service has become commonplace and fully accepted in our society and no one gives a care.

This is just plain wrong.

Room 104.

The year was 1974. The room was numbered 104. I was in the first grade at the newly christened Lura Sharp Elementary School in Upstate New York. My teacher, Miss Kania, was a young woman that I found incredibly beautiful. She was smart and hip and pretty and had beautiful eyes. This was her first year as a first grade teacher, every year before and afterwards she taught third grade.

School officially started at 9:10. The buses started arriving around 8:45. Our bus driver, Mr. Curry, must have been a leadfoot, because bus 43 was always the first bus to arrive at school. If we had behaved during the ride, we were allowed off the bus and into the school for an informal recess before class started. If we were unruly on the bus, he’d park next to the playground and we’d just sit there, watching the other buses pass, watching our friends gather as they met each other before walking into the school, without us. He’d then let us off the bus at 9:05, leaving us just enough time to get settled before the buzzer sounded the beginning of our studies.

During the informal recess before class, Miss Kania often set up this old dinosaur of a record player. Normally used for playing records such as “Free To Be… You And Me” and instructional narration that accompanied a filmstrip, she let us bring in our favorite records to enjoy.

Scott brought in some old waltz record he’d pilfered from his parent’s collection. I don’t know why he liked those waltzes but he always did. He and Janice would try to waltz around the braided rug. He’d usually stomp on one of her feet.

Bobby (who was killed the year before we all graduated) brought in some nursery rhyme, sing-along type record. Once in a while he’d bring in something from the Mickey Mouse Club.

I always wanted to make everyone have fun dancing, so I brought in my Mom’s copy of “Rubberneckin'” by Elvis Presley. I’d get the girls to do 1st grade versions of go-go dancing and the boys would dance like monkeys all around Room 104. I cranked the music up so loud that it broke the volume knob off the old dinosaur of a record player. We ended up having to get a replacement. Miss Kania was pretty and nice, she didn’t scold me for it.

Today I stumbled upon the video for the Paul Oakenfold Remix of “Rubberneckin'” from 2003. I hope it makes you want to dance.

Bad Geek?

Earl is out of town tonight. Normally we’d just TiVo “Heroes” and watch it when he gets home. In fact, we’ll still watch it together later in the week but curiosity got the best of me so I watched it tonight.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to post any spoilers.

I did not enjoy this episode. I didn’t like it at all. In fact, I hated it. But I’m sure the remaining episodes will be excellent episodes, as we’ve come to expect from the series.

It’s obvious that this is a “throw-away” episode, designed to get the final three episodes of the season squarely into May sweeps. This is the first time that I’ve been disappointed with the show since “Heroes” debuted last fall. Maybe I’m getting old.

Oh, and I still can not stand the Nicki/Jessica character.

I hope I don’t lose geek or gay points because of this.