Routine

This being Monday, Faye and I each have our chores; she goes to the supermarket and I go play golf. This is a good division of chores. As I see it, of course. I hate grocery shopping and, therefore,  I do not do it well. I would buy things we already have, get too much, and get upset by the cost of it all. It is, believe me, much better that Faye does it.

I don't play golf all that well either but I never overdo it and the cost (usually) doesn't bother me. Much better to keep me out of the supermarket. I would buy things like ice cream, candy, lots of cheese, and those little Jell-o cups. I have no idea what meat to buy and that alone makes me inept.

Food is Faye's forte. She knows what to buy, and she knows how to cook it. I cannot do the latter. I once did. Faye reminds me of that from time to time but mostly I took her to Denny's. Why she stuck around, I have no idea. But I am glad she did.

A New Dawning

It just dawned on me that I had no clever treatise on the American dream (or anything else) today. Never mind that "clever" is probably not the descriptive word my readers might use.

I always intend "clever"... as well as "illuminating" and "thought-provoking"... but generally fail. Especially on Saturdays. This is likely because I permit politics to creep in on such days. But not today, today I thought we ought to discuss the legalization of pot for recreational use in Colorado. And, by "discuss", I mean I'll impart my, uh, wisdom on the subject.

When I was young, I smoked pot on a regular basis. I also drank a lot of cheap wine. Only one of these gave me hangovers. To avoid being a hypocrite (like several opinion writers at the Washington Post and NY Times), I'd like to say I welcome the change in the law. I am not about to move to Colorado, though, like one of my friends is considering. Too much trouble and expense... and it gets cold there. I don't think readily available pot can make up for that. Besides, it (the pot) would make a big dent in my disposable income. Not that I have much of that anyway.

People say the new pot varieties are much more potent than they once were. I can't believe that. I think it's hype to cover the high cost of weed these days. It's like the price of a round of golf. When I first started playing that game, I could play a round for $2.50. Pot was about $10 an ounce. And I was making about $250 a week. Well, I am not making much more than that these days... not "making" at all, actually... that would suggest I am doing something more productive than helping keep the local establishments out of complete bankruptcy... but I apparently do have some disposable income. My lovely wife tells me that when she decides that she has done enough cooking so far this week and it is now time to take her out to dinner. No "appetizers" these days... can't afford `em... and I wouldn't know where to find it anyway. I don't have the long hair these days that says... "he's cool... enough... I guess."

Still, I think it's about time that pot is legalized. Think what it'll do for the snack and fast food industries alone!

Same Old, Same Old

I have been watching a lot of news lately. Mostly because I have pretty much taken root in my recliner since I took sick a few weeks ago. It's all jumbled with analyses of World War II, since I keep channel surfing and gunfire attracts my attention but that's my problem, not yours.

And the news is pretty much the same now as it was before the year ended; the economy is improving... or not... the market is up, somebody is making money, but not me. Bad weather hits the northeast... as it does every year about this time. D.C. is in denial about the snowstorm, the economy, Obamacare, immigration, and unemployment benefits. Well, D.C. is always in denial, isn't it? D.C. is truly Fantasyland.


We're just too lazy, too complacent, too lethargic... to rebel.

Today, I will be on the golf course. Not because I want to be but because I have made a commitment. It's supposed to be our version of cold today. The predicted high is 59 degrees F. It'll seem colder because the winds will approach 22 MPH (which means it will be 60 and the winds will be 25 MPH). Still, I said I'd be there so I will.

For a smart guy, I'm pretty stupid.

Sad... But True

I have begun to notice that the most interesting email I get is spam and the best of that is what ends up in the Junk Mail folder.

I may disable all my spam filters.

Bang the Drum Slowly... and Quietly, Please.

The pain of New Year's Day is upon us. Of course, I sit all smug and superior since I gave up drinking years ago in favor of having a liver. Nary a drop passed my lips last night at the Old Folks' New Year's Party. But we partied hard, I tell you. We ate, we burped, we told tales of a woman who pushed her husband out the back door in a wheel chair and broke his neck when it fell over. You haven't lived till that sounds funny to you. It's okay, she eventually took him to the Emergency Room and the 89 year-old is doing well.... though I am not sure he knows it.

The party wound down soon after the fireworks display was over... that would be a little after 9 PM. Now I have a little car trouble to deal with... there was a warning alert about a tire being low on air... all I have to figure out is which one, put some in, and get it replaced by nitrogen come Thursday. That's what they fill our tires up with now; nitrogen. I guess people rebelled against having to put their credit cards in the air pumps at the gas stations. Now, there's good reason to pay through the nose for something that abundant.

We're spoiled, aren't we? Our cars tell us when to change the oil, when our tires are low, and when we are about to crash into the car in the next lane. We still can't just set the destination and take a nap as the car takes us there... though it sometimes seems more than a few do around here.

Have a Happy New Year... It'll take 365 days to get through and there's no skipping that.