Simple Explanation

If only we could all get back to making things a lot simpler.

All to often we see things that happen around us that are complicated. Hurricane Fay lands on Florida a bazillion times. We have a complicated mess in Iraq that only our president can understand why we're there in the first place. We have an election coming up where both candidates are either out of touch with mainstream Americans like you and me, or too caught up with florid language that sounds impressive yet lacks substance or proof of experience. We have an enabling welfare system that encourages people to NOT work. And we have Donald Trump that sports a hairdo that defies all laws of gravity and taste, yet at the same time has more money than the State of Montana that should allow him to get a good haircut and a decent, non-Costas dye-job.

My niece Becca inspired me to write this short entry into the blogosphere that really put things into perspective for me today, and illustrates how things should be less complicated.

She said, "you know, Uncle Dave, Halloween is only two and a half pages away."

I had to think a second about it.

My response: "Yep, it sure is."

Mad Dash

I panicked.

No it wasn't a panic attack in the clinical sense, but yesterday I ran into a situation where I felt trapped.

I always enjoy Saturdays, especially with the ones where I have nothing on the agenda other than sleeping in, doing nothing, or my required engagements are late in the afternoon. Yesterday was no exception. That is, until I decided to let my dogs out before heading out of the house.

My dogs are quite regular, you see. They let me know like clockwork when they need to go out. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that a) they are retired racer greyhounds used to a strict regimen, and b) they haven't lost that sense of schedule. This is rather ironic, considering that I hate being scheduled. But, I love my dogs, and I don't mind making sure that they stay on track.
That's why I make sure that they're always fed at the same time, 6 a.m. and 6 p.m. and that they go out for a romp at 6 a.m., 11 a.m., 5 p.m. and 10 p.m.

Well, yesterday, they went out a little later than normal. Across the street, my neighbors were having their rummage sale. As a result, there were tons of cars parked along the street on both sides, with one car that happened to block one-third of my driveway entrance. I probably would have been o.k. with that, except my driveway approach is only a single car entry, and not the double-wide approaches that most houses have nowadays. Well, I thought I would let out my dogs, and then head out. I figured that I would go back inside, do a few dishes prior to leaving, and let my hounds check out what was going on outside.

After about 15 minutes, I went to go get them to bring them inside, and I suddenly caught glimpse of an individual at the rummage sale that looked like someone I didn't want to see. I won't bore everyone as to why, but I would have rather had a root canal, played golf, watched NASCAR, eaten squash, went fishing, eaten watermelon or salmon, or wore black high top tennis shoes than to encounter this person. I glanced over a second time, and sure enough it was whom I thought it was.

I panicked.

I quickly whisked my dogs into the house, shut the door behind me, dead bolted the door, shut all of the blinds, and stood in my kitchen-all the while tapping my foot on the linoleum and thinking to myself, "NOW what the hell am I going to do!?" Knowing this individual, they would with certainty have come across the street, knocked on my door, and then have proceeded to engage in a conversation that I know I would want to avoid.

I had to get out of my house, and QUICK!

I bolted for the door, grabbed my keys, whisked myself into the garage faster than Hurricane Fran on a Thursday afternoon. I felt myself standing by the button to open the garage door, readying myself to dash for my car so that I could hop into it without this person seeing my legs dash across the back of my car as the garage door was opening. I haven't moved THAT fast since missing my flight connections in Chicago when I went to Florida last March.

The garage door was still going up as I turned the ignition on my car, and threw the car into reverse. Thank GOD I didn't start backing up as I either would have taken out the garage door, or ripped the antenna off the top of my vehicle. I quickly backed out of the driveway, and noticed this person waiving like crazy to get my attention while I was looking out my rear view mirror.

I got to the end of my driveway, and just barely had enough room to turn and head down the street without hopping over the curb and making myself look like a complete idiot. Then again, any bargain shopper at my neighbor's rummage sale would most likely have said, "who's THAT idiot?" after watching me tear out of my driveway and down the street.

YES!!!!! Free! Whew! Then it hit me....did I close the garage door? More importantly, did I bring the dogs back in? And even more importantly, GOD, did I HIT anyone or anything? I needed to make a reconnaissance fly-by past my house to make sure. I got around the block, and went up the street on the OTHER side of my house, slowed WAY down to see if this person was still standing there (or standing at my house). Whew....nope. The coast was clear. No dogs left unattended, and no doors left open or ajar.

The dumbest thing about this whole panic episode was that I was worried that this person might see that I was trying to avoid them. An amoeba could probably have guessed I was. But it sure would have been great to see on video.

Where's the xanax when you need it?

The Skids On The Bus Drink Dew...Dew...Dew

Again, today, I was looking out my window at work. It was right after lunch. I've mentioned looking out my window at work before. To give you some scope as to what I was looking through, I can tell you that this window isn't a small Pella double-hung attic window. In fact, this window happens to be a half wall of glass. Thank goodness it's tinted during the daytime, as I would be sitting in a fishbowl for all of the world to see, and GOD would I hate that. I'd also hate for anyone to see the occasional dumbfounded expression on my face from gawking at passers-by for that matter.

Then again, I can't help but feel like I'm looking into the fishbowl of the world going on around me. My, my, my, the things I see! It's a good thing I'm not A.D.D.

In this particular instance today, two people were standing outside at the bus stop. They were both in their mid-40's. He was dressed in his Thursday finest: an entirely too small, soiled, wife-beater t-shirt, with monochromatic random (and bad) tattoos, jeans and black high-top basketball shoes (and I won't even BEGIN to go into my feelings about black gym shoes...). His significant other was wearing loud floral zooba pants, a purple tube-top (yes, a tube-top), snappy oxydol-white sneakers, and (like her companion) was also bedecked with an array of tattoos. It was also apparent that she wasn't wearing a bra, since her boobs practically sagged down to her femurs. Unfortunate is the word to best describe what I saw. I also wondered why they weren't working.

As they collected their parcels to get on the JTS bus, I noticed that it was the woman that picked up the huge matching purple knapsack, the 3 plastic bags full of what-not, and her cavernous faux-leather (and bedazzled) purse.

What did he pick up? His 1 liter bottle of Mountain Dew. That's all.

I've seen the National Geographic Channel once or twice when they've gone to the remotest villages in the world, and all you ever see is the women chopping down the forest, building the huts, cooking, thatching the roofs, cleaning (and how exactly does one make a dirt floor clean?), and doing all of the work. Meanwhile, the men...they all are napping in hammocks. I'm sure if there was a hammock at the bus stop outside my window today, that man would have been snoozing in it. It just goes to show you that even in America, right or wrong, it's no different in a first world country like ours.

I chuckled a bit to myself as I sat there entranced with the scene unfolding outside my window.

It was the liter bottle of Mountain Dew.

My friend Steve remarked several years ago about this phenomenon, that to this day I still notice. He asked the group of us that night if we've ever noticed that all around Janesville, you always see hardscrabble people (his moniker was "skids") walking around, not working, mid-afternoon, along major streets in Janesville, and they're always carrying a 6 pack of Mountain Dew. Why is that?

No sooner did I recall that comment did a SECOND guy walk by (of the same ilk) whom I've seen walk ALL over Janesville, and has a liter bottle of Mountain Dew in tow. I can't help but wonder why as well. What an interesting case study this would make! Perhaps a photo montage to illustrate the Gillespie theory is in order.....hmmmm....

All I know is, I'm glad I don't drink Mountain Dew.

Ain't Gotta Ticket to Ride...And He Don't Care

As I looked out my window at work (as I do daily) the other day, and stared at the fountain out front, I noticed that at about 12:45 p.m. to about 1:00 p.m. every day there is a teal green Ford Explorer that circles the perimeter of the parking lot east of the Janesville Mall. It always goes really slowly. I have wondered what it was that this particular person was doing. Gas, for example, is not cheap by any means. Seeing this particular SUV going through its motions, I am guessing that on a good day (and driving all highway miles) that this person would be lucky to get about 12 miles to the gallon. However, I'm sure that at the speed this SUV circles, it's safe to say that during this 15 minute jaunt around the parking lot, the driver is probably getting about 10 feet per gallon.

I probably should have been focusing more on work, but odd behavior of people has always intrigued and easily distracted me. Take for example an experience I had a couple weekends ago.

As I was sitting on the patio at my favorite drinking establishment a couple Fridays ago, I was having a great time chatting with my friends. My back happened to be against the black wrought iron fencing surrounding the patio/drinking garden. I was unaware that anyone was coming up behind me, when all of a sudden I heard a, "hey buddy" behind me. I turned my head about 90 degrees to the right, and replied, "yes?" This short interaction repeated itself about 3 times, until finally this transient looking guy started explaining to me that he and his wife were trapped down in Janesville, and that they needed to get back to Madison where they lived. The problem was that they didn't have any money, and was wondering if I had any to spare.

I could empathize with his feeling of confinement in Janesville (Janesville sometimes has that effect on people). Unfortunately, I wasn't feeling very charitable, nor was I feeling the least bit sympathetic. In fact, my friend Ken was feeling less philanthropic than me. He flat out yelled at the guy and said," you haven't gotten to Madison yet?! Jesus, you've been trying to get to Madison for the last 5 years now! If you would have started walking back then, you would have at LEAST made it there 3 years ago!" Apparently taken aback, our friendly (and persistent) vagrant threw his hands up (as if to say WTF!) and said, "are you trying to ruin this for me?!" I'm sure that this vagrant's comment was meant to be either a) a sidebar comment best expressed internally, or b) a comment better saved for a private locale away from the person he was trying to scam.

Two things happened. 1) he didn't have the wherewithal to even realize he was thinking aloud, and 2) he literally stood less than two feet behind my ears (blessed with acute hearing I might add) and assumed I couldn't hear him. Oh yes, I heard him...and no, if it were up to me, he'd be putting on some heavy duty walking shoes. But I digress...

Odd behavior...yes back to the circling SUV. I finally realized what it was the person was doing. The driver's door was ajar, and low and behold...there was a Samoyed-looking dog trotting alongside the moving vehicle. Yes, this person was (for lack of a better descriptor) walking their dog from their car! I have heard of laziness before. I have heard of wastefulness, too. But man...that took the cake! After all, there are dog walking services, or doggy day care providers that will do this for you if necessary, and I'm sure that it isn't too terribly expensive. Hell, I'm sure that my visiting Madisonian would have been willing to walk this person's canine for money just to make it back home.

Maybe I'm on to something...

All that glitters is not gold.........or grey

Okay, I have to confess. I'm an Olympics junkie.

I can hardly wait to get home to turn on the television. I have two televisions going full-blast at home. I set programming on my satellite so as not to miss any programming....ever...even while I'm sleeping. One never knows....I might want to watch Togo play the Vatican in women's handball (whatever that is) in the event I should happen to wake up at 3:36 in the morning and get the itch to want to learn how to play it, being the jock that I am. Somehow, I think that sleeping is a far more practical option.

Whatever it is, I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I can't wait to go to China. After all, I need a vacation, and as of today, China is only 54 days away. I can tell you that after watching the Olympics tonight, my obsession ISN'T because of two reasons.

First.......Bob Costas. The only way that man's hair at his age could be that chocolate to dark-Hershey-Special brown is if he douses himself with Kiwi shoe polish. And his very stupid, cretin-esque humor is one that only a foreign exchange student who lacks English skills could admire. After all, I experienced my family's foreign exchange student (when I was in high school) enjoy the "smart" humor of Three's Company. It's on par. And, it's brutal. No wonder the French love Jerry Lewis.

Second, after watching the women's team gymnastics competition, I can't help but think that former Olympian Tim Daggett must be a chronic nay-sayer. I don't think that man has an ounce of hope. He made Chicken Little look like Pollyanna. I found myself swearing at the television often after hearing his pessimistic spin and diatribe. Then again, if I were long in nose and long in tooth, I'd probably be a chronic negative Nancy as well. Who knows what HIS issue was tonight.

Anyhow, the Olympics, well...I love them anyhow, despite questionable commentators. And, that Michael Phelps is something else! Superhuman comes to mind. WOW!

Hopefully when the Olympic hype is over, the Chinese will still be the happy smiling people that we've come to see on TV.

We'll see.

Ahmal the Night Visitor

Just when you thought it was safe, KER-POW!!!!

After having the afternoon off Monday, I got a lot done around the house, turned in early, and woke up truly refreshed yesterday morning. I let my dogs out, did a load of laundry, made a pot of coffee, checked my email, got ready for work, went into my garage, opened the door to my car and then....

I got that "not-so-fresh" feeling.

I noticed that in my car all of the things that were in the glove box, the center console container, and some papers in my back seat looked as if Hurricane Edouard made a random stop IN my vehicle. My heart started pounding...

I looked through all the things in my vehicle, trying to recollect what it was I actually HAD in my car. Anyone that knows me knows I have difficulty remembering what day it is, let alone be able to complete a total mental inventory of EVERYTHING in my car. I suddenly realized that my cell phone, my cell phone charger, about $10 worth of change, and my favorite sunglasses (when I decide to wear them) had suddenly been liberated from my clutches.

Yes, people, someone or someone and a friend, was ballsy enough to go into my garage, into my car (the one day I DON'T lock it) and stole these items. Apparently they needed those items more than me, but apparently were not astute enough to even use the phone by the time I called my cell phone provider (or maybe they were, depending on how you look at it) and reported it stolen.

Funny though, is that apparently they aren't fond of my musical tastes. Apparently this Night Visitor isn't too fond of classical music, Jonathan and Darlene Edwards' Greatest Hits Volume II, the soundtrack to the Frogs, or a stunning selection of arias from Handel's operas sung by none other than the great Renee Fleming. All of my CD's were still left in my car, even though they had been ransacked just like the center console.

I have always thought I had great taste until yesterday. Then again, when I recall the time when I had a short stint as a bartender, the frequently-sauced owner threatened to fire me for playing music she didn't like. Trust me, I have the wherewithal to know that classical music isn't probably the best option to play for a bar that patrons sporting mohawks, are ex-pole dancers, or pretend to be some other ethnicity that they aren't tend to frequent. I mean, who DOESN'T like the "one hit wonders" of the 80's, the Smiths, cool jazz, or the like?

Apparently my taste sucks. I was, however, consoled when my 19 year-old employee at work did say that I bought "a pretty sweet phone." However, I've spent a couple of hours trying to figure out how it works, since it now slides, chirps, has a touch screen, and has regular phone buttons. The jury is still out on my phone's "sweetness." And, I still don't know how to save numbers. I guess I shouldn't be too distressed about this, seeing that I usually NEVER keep my cell phone on me, and my friends often complain that I never call. At least, for now, I have an excuse for not calling.

I should be able to be technologically savvy enough to figure this out, but I can't help but feel like my parents did whenever my brother and I got them new technology. I guess I'm getting old. Besides, I was hoping that catching this sneaky little shithead would be easy, as I was hoping that I would hear the vocal styling of Renee Fleming blasting out of a souped-up Honda Civic with the bleacher-bench spoiler and Herbie-the-love-Bug muffler on the back, and I could catch them red-handed...

But alas.....

If a tree falls in the woods will it wake me up?

Or how about in the city?

Well, apparently the answer is no. It's not as if a "tree" actually fell last night, but I woke up this morning to an horrific thunderstorm, only to find that two HUGE limbs fell off my silver maple trees. Yes, these limbs fell off and landed partially in my fenced in area of my yard, partially on my fence, and partially on the sidewalk. Combined with a veritable assortment of branches, twigs, and leaves, it's left my yard a mess.....again. I can hardly wait to see if my neighbor across the street from me will pile the brush from my trees in his yard onto the terrace of my yard as he's been known to do.

At first glance it looks like only one of my pickets on the fence suffered injury, but it will be interesting to see if there's more. Gee, I can hardly wait. I am thankful, however, that I wasn't standing underneath it like my good friend (and woodland nymph) Donna. I would most certainly have been injured.

My dogs were VERY unsure about this new "thing" in their playpen/bathroom. In fact, they wanted nothing to do with them. Lucky for me, since I really don't need a greyhound to be loosed from a faulty picket. THAT, my friends, would be a very dangerous situation. After all, they're sneaky.

So I'm about to brave the humidity, and see what I can do to clean my yard up a bit. What a way to spend an afternoon off!

Yet, the damn dead vertical log of a pine tree in my neighbor's yard is still precariously erect. Now why couldn't THAT have fallen? Then again, I'm glad it didn't since it's extremely close to the power line to my house, and God KNOWS when Alliant would ever get around to fixing it.....

UGH!