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Mom was a hillbilly from West Virginia. Dad was a Cajun from Point Coupe Parrish Louisiana. Dad’s old stomping grounds is in the Morganza floodway. Soon to be underwater.
Uncle Wesley was Dad’s brother. This was a good Catholic family – and I haven’t a clue why he was named Wesley. But, Aunt Mary was my favorite from the vast pantheon of aunts and uncles. She didn’t have any kids and treated me like a grown up person. And, she had ice cream every night as a bedtime snack. So, I always wanted to stay with Aunt Mary when we made our annual pilgrimage to Louisiana.
Got a nice new set of Shure earbuds from BHPhoto today. I am death on earbuds. If they last a year I am happy – Shure buds usually last 18 months or so. These have replaceable cords – so maybe – these will last two years. But, I absolutely adore new earbuds.
And, I got nice new replacement pads for my faithful old Sennheiser PX-1oo’s. Good as new for another five years – if I don’t step on them.
Mario's
Mario’s Pizza – our neighborhood dive that did not catch fire the other day.
No, not endangering our apartment – but endangering Mario’s. Mario’s being our famous ca 1954 pizza and sub shop. None of your standardized Domino’s or Subway chow. I doubt that they have cleaned the grill since Kennedy was in the White House. And, unlike some of our other culinary institutions – most recently Ray’s Hell Burgers – no sitting president has ever dined at Mario’s. The Secret Service wouldn’t allow it. POTUS’s life wouldn’t be at risk – but the Presidential arteries would become dangerously clogged after just one “Lefty’s Special”.
An expedition is being planned to Truth or Consequences NM. I peeked at it with street view. Reminded me of how much I hate the desert. Everything either sticks, stings or bites. The much vaulted beauty of the desert is way too subtle for my urban eyes. And, one can not get there by public transport. The grey dog doesn’t even stop there. It just drives right on thru. And, I doubt they have a Starbucks.
Microsoft buys Skype was one of today’s investment headlines. “There Goes Skype” would be a better headline.
Noticed that Obama went to the old home place – El Paso – today. There isn’t much good to be said about El Paso. Let’s see:
It has good Mexican food.
It is seriously cheap to live there.
If you are going to die anyhow – you can get really good nursing aides to take outstanding care of your dying ass for very little money. If you know where to look.
Still have the allergies. But, we have sun and warm weather. Also, my terrace is overrun by “clover mites”. Trust me “clover mites”, there ain’t no clover up here. Carlton declared them chiggers. But the building folks say they are “clover mites”. So, I declared them “clover mites”. “Clover mites” don’t bite. Chigger do. So, I chose to believe the critters are “clover mites”. And I went out an enjoyed a nice couple of hours on my terrace.
Kentucky Derby today. Also our local yuppie cross country extravaganza – the Gold Cup. I am not amused by horse racing. I no longer approve of horse racing. I am no fan of horses. They are big and dumb. But, they shouldn’t be forced into service for our gambling and hat-wearing pleasure. We humans can bet on pro-sports and organize garden parties to show off our chapeaux. And let the horses be horses.
So, as for as long as I pay the bills – no horse racing on my TVs.
Mark your calendars boys and girls – The End of the World, well … sort of, 21 May 2011. Just to be safe – I’ll return my library books. This a is good time to mention the great little Library Book App. If you have a Mac, iPhone, iPad etc. and if your library is supported… just get it. Well, maybe you should wait until May 22 just to be safe.
The real question being – what on earth happened to the kid’s lower half. Honest – she is all in one piece. This was taken on Carlton’s Mother’s back stairs. At least once a year the kid and I got stuffed in Carlton’s old car and dragged off to Richmond to visit “mom”. “Mom” hated Pam and me. And, we weren’t too fond of her either. We tried to always go together and to always stay together. We felt that “mom” would be less likely to attack us if we stuck together. Eventually we just refused to go at all.
I am trying really hard to clear out all the “digital clutter”. Which means, just because I can save everything doesn’t mean I should save everything.
And what is this new plan? Yesterday evening I sort of rediscovered “anatomical donations”. Which in real-speak means donate your dead body to science. It appeals to Mr C because it is cheap and to me because it is the ultimate recycling. In our area at least four medical schools will collect our dead selves and a couple of years later return a coffee can of remains.
We both like Howard University. Just because it is a “historically black college”. I sort of like Georgetown. But, they are the “fussiest” about the condition of your dead ass. After Georgetown is done with your dead body, they have a funeral mass for it and a have a Rabbi and Imam say some kind words as well. What I like about that is – what if I am backing the wrong side religion-wise. What if there really is a god? A god who cares about funeral masses or the kaddish? Sort of an insurance policy – don’t you think? Besides – that is the only way I’d ever get into Georgetown.
There also seem to be corpse chop shops. That is rather crude. But, you get the picture. Your knees might go to some one researching knees while your pinkie toes would go on to someone researching toes. In a couple of months – whatever is left of you after the useful parts are dispatched comes back in a coffee can. These folks don’t much care what you died of as long as it wasn’t contagious. I like travel. I like the idea of my bod going off on various trips without “me”.
Carlton brought his head to our office at the hospital on Tuesday to get a professional look-see. And to get a few more tasteful flesh colored band-aids. For some reason, he doesn’t care for the nice red ones that I got on sale at Walgreens. (One of our co-workers took this with her iPhone. I don’t look 5 pounds too big in this photo – but trust me I am.)
I am not getting up at 0430 hours tomorrow to watch the royal wedding. The Space Shuttle – well, 1547 is a much better time. But, I am not sure about watching that either. I am always too afraid that I’ll be watching something blow up. That said – I would love to go along for the ride. I am not afraid of being blown up… just don’t want to see other people being blown up.
A nice time was had at the 80th birthday party. Only Carlton and I and one other couple did not live in some very up scale old folks “asylum” or the other. But, they all seems very happy in their asylums. Each of them had reasons for thinking their choice was the “best”. All of these people still drive cars, set on corporate boards, belong to country clubs etc. But several have spouses who had moved on to the “care” units in their asylums.
I continue to think of our rented apartment with the great view, wonderful staff, public transportation and deli downstairs as my version “assisted living”.