St. Martin, the patron saint of... ?
Join us, if you are looking for a quick escape:
This is SO cool a place it's got two dictatorships, I mean municipal principals. Half is St. Martin, and the other half St. Maarten. One side wears no underwear. The other favors hats and bow ties.
Here's the landing from the beach. WORTHY!!"
Didn't you enjoy those 32 seconds? You did. Absolutely.
So you see that tomorrow we'll sand blast some sun worshippers who go for a little peace and quiet, a little getaway, AT THE END OF A RUNWAY.
We go directly to the boat, a 45-50 foot catamaran. It doesn't expand, it's I'm not sure how long it is. Pretty much a fait acomplii by now anyway.
We learn that in addition to the captain and cook, there will be a couple from Italy and a couple from Canada. They will be the palest.
There ARE sunny and warm areas of Canada, but they are in Florida.
I think we spend nite one in the harbor or mooring, since we board only an hour and a half or so before sunset. Sailboats sail. They are not fast. To get somewhere, maybe, but we'll see, and after travel for pretty much 12 hours, it won't matter.
I will take many pictures and should get into flickr or some place, so I can broaden it from the several I'd post here, huh?
I'm a computer guy but not to taking one along, so that's it for now.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
SHOOTING GULLS
More photography. Went to Lake Buchanen Saturday to meetup with the photo group I belong to... it turned out to be windy and eventually rainy, and the promoted eagles were nesting elsewhere. We did have some gulls follow the boat and believe me, it's not easy to get a good shot of a moving bird while on a moving boat.
Next week we'll be somewhere warm, on another moving boat...
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
PHOTOGRAPHER BOB WOOD
I am enjoying the creative freedom photography has brought back to me as I believe that there's no bad thing as a bad photo if it resonates with you.
As a young official photoguy for our family (comprised of my mother, my father, and me) I travelled all over Europe, snapping pictures/slides from the top of the Eiffel Tower, to Picadilly Circus, to the Collesium. Venice, the alps. Really good pictures. My mother threw them out without telling me when she moved to Florida.
The DSLR experience is so cheap, easy, and rewarding. I write those words in that order because without the cheap and easy, I'd not go for the freedom it takes to take a lot of pictures, even of the same thing - each expanding my knowledge of what works. Being able to shoot free means your own subjective opinion will always be right for that picture, for you.
I've got pictures I have saved just to think about, to try to figure out what I really like - what is vibrating for me?
Usually I like it when a picture tells a story. There's an action captured, leading to an outcome (the diver is about to kiss the water/ the child is about to get the ice cream/ or an attitude (I am eating this ice cream and don't care how much gets on me/ love/ fun. The vitality of the characters photographed fuels the picture.
I shot 35mm for years, then 110 black and white in a twin-lens relex as a teen on the yearbook staff, back to 35mm, then video in virtually every format up until HDTV. I shot tons I HAVE NEVER SEEN. And don't really want to. Got back into semi-pro 35MM, then DSLR.
But good pictures really do hold up, grabbing powerful memories or emotions, right out of thin air.
I have a picture I took of our small cruise ship in Tahiti, docked so simply and peacefully. It has innocense about it. Two weeks later, the ship caught fire and was scuttled. This was a print and if I get a satifactory scan of it, will post below. I love how it feels.
I feel compelled to point to the right side top of the blog here with a link to more photos.
As a young official photoguy for our family (comprised of my mother, my father, and me) I travelled all over Europe, snapping pictures/slides from the top of the Eiffel Tower, to Picadilly Circus, to the Collesium. Venice, the alps. Really good pictures. My mother threw them out without telling me when she moved to Florida.
The DSLR experience is so cheap, easy, and rewarding. I write those words in that order because without the cheap and easy, I'd not go for the freedom it takes to take a lot of pictures, even of the same thing - each expanding my knowledge of what works. Being able to shoot free means your own subjective opinion will always be right for that picture, for you.
I've got pictures I have saved just to think about, to try to figure out what I really like - what is vibrating for me?
Usually I like it when a picture tells a story. There's an action captured, leading to an outcome (the diver is about to kiss the water/ the child is about to get the ice cream/ or an attitude (I am eating this ice cream and don't care how much gets on me/ love/ fun. The vitality of the characters photographed fuels the picture.
I shot 35mm for years, then 110 black and white in a twin-lens relex as a teen on the yearbook staff, back to 35mm, then video in virtually every format up until HDTV. I shot tons I HAVE NEVER SEEN. And don't really want to. Got back into semi-pro 35MM, then DSLR.
But good pictures really do hold up, grabbing powerful memories or emotions, right out of thin air.
I have a picture I took of our small cruise ship in Tahiti, docked so simply and peacefully. It has innocense about it. Two weeks later, the ship caught fire and was scuttled. This was a print and if I get a satifactory scan of it, will post below. I love how it feels.
I feel compelled to point to the right side top of the blog here with a link to more photos.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
CONAN IS BEING SCREWED!
It seems wrong, wrong, wrong to me that NBC wants to put LENO back following the 11P E/10P C news and have CONAN's THE TONIGHT SHOW after it at 12:05AM. Apparently CONAN isn't ready to go along.
If you think that - "Well, with all HIS money, how tough is life?" that's just not the point. It takes tremendous drive and talent to get as far as CONAN has - and while he might not be everyone's favorite, cutting him off at the knees is just wrong. It should take time to build his audience.
I blame NBC for being stupid. I blame Jay Leno for his eagerness to shuffle out of the cesspool of his current show and back to a later time slot, no matter what that does to his 'successor.'. Time to step out, Jay. Drive your cars. Do standup. You had your shot. It's over.
Same with Dick Clark, but a totally different story: time to step away.
If you think that - "Well, with all HIS money, how tough is life?" that's just not the point. It takes tremendous drive and talent to get as far as CONAN has - and while he might not be everyone's favorite, cutting him off at the knees is just wrong. It should take time to build his audience.
I blame NBC for being stupid. I blame Jay Leno for his eagerness to shuffle out of the cesspool of his current show and back to a later time slot, no matter what that does to his 'successor.'. Time to step out, Jay. Drive your cars. Do standup. You had your shot. It's over.
Same with Dick Clark, but a totally different story: time to step away.
I CAN FLY!!!
Well, I did fly back in the 70s and 80s. If you want to see me and a buddy doing Ultralights, here's the place!"
Sunday, January 10, 2010
CLOSE CALL?
I was eating Raisinettes while getting dressed. I had lucked into the local store brand and they were fresh and good. The raisins were fat and there were some clumps of more than one raisin, covered in remarkably good chocolate.
I'm still a little slow getting my pants on, due to my accident affecting the left foot and a knee that is acting up on my right leg. As I pulled them on, I also had a fist full of Raisinettes, and I thought I lost one of the clumps into a pant leg, but couldn't be sure. Shook them out, but no raisin. Maybe I imagined it.
Here's what could have happened:
Now, later, I am at the physical therapy place. I remove my shoe to expose my foot and in the process, in front of the therapist, that lost chocolate-covered clump of raisinettes falls out of my pants. The therapist gives me a look that is PURE GROSS-OUT, because she thinks "not raisinette." Realizing what she's thinking, I try for a graceful recovery, only to discover there is no escape...
I'm still a little slow getting my pants on, due to my accident affecting the left foot and a knee that is acting up on my right leg. As I pulled them on, I also had a fist full of Raisinettes, and I thought I lost one of the clumps into a pant leg, but couldn't be sure. Shook them out, but no raisin. Maybe I imagined it.
Here's what could have happened:
Now, later, I am at the physical therapy place. I remove my shoe to expose my foot and in the process, in front of the therapist, that lost chocolate-covered clump of raisinettes falls out of my pants. The therapist gives me a look that is PURE GROSS-OUT, because she thinks "not raisinette." Realizing what she's thinking, I try for a graceful recovery, only to discover there is no escape...
Friday, January 08, 2010
BRING BACK THE DEAD
If someone famous but dead could still be alive today, at the age he or she would be, who would be the best or most interesting choice?
Would Elvis be doing commercials for Weight Loss? He'd be 75.
Would John F. Kennedy be an elder statesman, or just elder? He'd be 93.
Of course we miss many people, but perhaps idealize them the way they were, especially if they passed at the height of their prominence.
I think John Lennon would have aged gracefully, would still be not only cracking wise, but being so. He'd be 70.
Who would you choose?
Would Elvis be doing commercials for Weight Loss? He'd be 75.
Would John F. Kennedy be an elder statesman, or just elder? He'd be 93.
Of course we miss many people, but perhaps idealize them the way they were, especially if they passed at the height of their prominence.
I think John Lennon would have aged gracefully, would still be not only cracking wise, but being so. He'd be 70.
Who would you choose?
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
NO MORE WWW
I missed the change - and apparently, according to a friend who lives on his computer, by a year or so... you don't have to preface web addresses with a "www." I am so used to it, I do so automatically, but HAVE tried without and son-of-a-gun, it works.
Another tiny step forward.
Another tiny step forward.
Friday, January 01, 2010
FLOMAX AIRLINES
With the new rules and restrictions placed by the TSA on flights and passengers, especially the "stay seated one hour before landing," there's a huge opportunity for another niche airline - one with pre-pre-screened travelers who might be allowed to potty due to their advanced age.
Heck, I don't care if you put a camera in the bathroom. When ya gotta go, you gotta go! I have been on some flights where they make you sit for way too long due to brief turbulence - actually, I think they make you sit initially, then forget to tell you it's "safe" to walk about the cabin.
And so you hold it and hold it and then your plane lands and taxis to the farthest gate which it turns out isn't ready yet because there's another plane in it and so you sit and sit and then they slowly tug that plane out of the way and your plane slowly moves up - you are in seat 20d and the travelling feebs all stand at once but then the flight attendants loudly remind everyone "we haven't docked at the gate and to be re-seated" and then we eventually do dock "DING!" and then all jump up to be cramped in the aisles grabbing luggage and then we wait again because the gate attendant hasn't moved the Jetway yet and then when that dude gets back from his break and they crack the door, the feebs shuffle oh-so-slowly. Meanwhile my kidneys are, shall I say, "unforgiving?"
I appreciate the need for advanced security, but... "when ya gotta go ya gotta go."
Oh - and to the people who complain about the new generation of scanners invading their privacy? I say: "TAKE A BUS."
Heck, I don't care if you put a camera in the bathroom. When ya gotta go, you gotta go! I have been on some flights where they make you sit for way too long due to brief turbulence - actually, I think they make you sit initially, then forget to tell you it's "safe" to walk about the cabin.
And so you hold it and hold it and then your plane lands and taxis to the farthest gate which it turns out isn't ready yet because there's another plane in it and so you sit and sit and then they slowly tug that plane out of the way and your plane slowly moves up - you are in seat 20d and the travelling feebs all stand at once but then the flight attendants loudly remind everyone "we haven't docked at the gate and to be re-seated" and then we eventually do dock "DING!" and then all jump up to be cramped in the aisles grabbing luggage and then we wait again because the gate attendant hasn't moved the Jetway yet and then when that dude gets back from his break and they crack the door, the feebs shuffle oh-so-slowly. Meanwhile my kidneys are, shall I say, "unforgiving?"
I appreciate the need for advanced security, but... "when ya gotta go ya gotta go."
Oh - and to the people who complain about the new generation of scanners invading their privacy? I say: "TAKE A BUS."
Sunday, December 27, 2009
XM AND ME
Once there were two satellite companies: XM and Sirius. Despite blowing through mega millions, possibly billions, they never really caught on. (Recently they merged.) This is to say that the audience of all of the Sat channels added together at any minute don't equal one NYC radio station at that same minute.
My car 'came' with a free satellite radio trial. I had to check it out. WEAK program choices, weak talent, weak imaging, poor fidelity, too many bad songs! What's the point? And you have to PAY for this?
One sidebar: the traffic in real time was helpful, or would be, if I drove more distance. Apparently the traffic reports are overlaid on the navigation map. That's cool. But I wouldn't pay for it.
There are WAY too many ROCK channels, too many RAP channels, too many TALK channels, and not nearly enough music niching. (Maybe they know how few listen.) Even so, seems there are several mainstream formats completely ignored.)
For some reason I haven't been able to fathom, the radio comes on when the car starts even though I don't want it to, and have attempted various smooth moves to defeat it. To this moment, though, the radio is winning.
However, once on, I can turn it off, and sometimes do. But the other night, while driving to a birthday dinner (mine, not the car's and certainly not XM's), with the radio off, all of a sudden there was what sounded like an electronic sneeze. "Was that you?" I asked Terri. "Not me," she said. The mystery faded into the "things you can't figure out" cloud that follows life around.
I did notice WEATHER/EMERGENCY on one of the several electro-readouts. And snow was indeed blowing blizzard conditions, but far, far north of us. I let it pass.
The next day, When I got into the car and started it, there was (finally) no radio - but there was a message on the screen... if you wish to subscribe, call this number. AHHH. The 'sneeze' was the wet goodbye.
GOODBYE XM. Goodbye, what I term, the Big Satellite Scam.
My car 'came' with a free satellite radio trial. I had to check it out. WEAK program choices, weak talent, weak imaging, poor fidelity, too many bad songs! What's the point? And you have to PAY for this?
One sidebar: the traffic in real time was helpful, or would be, if I drove more distance. Apparently the traffic reports are overlaid on the navigation map. That's cool. But I wouldn't pay for it.
There are WAY too many ROCK channels, too many RAP channels, too many TALK channels, and not nearly enough music niching. (Maybe they know how few listen.) Even so, seems there are several mainstream formats completely ignored.)
For some reason I haven't been able to fathom, the radio comes on when the car starts even though I don't want it to, and have attempted various smooth moves to defeat it. To this moment, though, the radio is winning.
However, once on, I can turn it off, and sometimes do. But the other night, while driving to a birthday dinner (mine, not the car's and certainly not XM's), with the radio off, all of a sudden there was what sounded like an electronic sneeze. "Was that you?" I asked Terri. "Not me," she said. The mystery faded into the "things you can't figure out" cloud that follows life around.
I did notice WEATHER/EMERGENCY on one of the several electro-readouts. And snow was indeed blowing blizzard conditions, but far, far north of us. I let it pass.
The next day, When I got into the car and started it, there was (finally) no radio - but there was a message on the screen... if you wish to subscribe, call this number. AHHH. The 'sneeze' was the wet goodbye.
GOODBYE XM. Goodbye, what I term, the Big Satellite Scam.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
CHRISTMAS MEMORIES
...the smell of felt (green felt) which was tacked to the plywood upon which my Lionel railroad circled the tree.
... the artifically lonesome sound of the fake train whistle.
... the smell of tablet-in-the-smokestack "smoke" from the steam engine circling the tree.
... hearing "Santa" curse as he'd apparently shock himself 'wiring' Plasticville lights on the plywood.
... running my trains way too fast for the curves...
... getting a second engine, a Santa Fe diesel.
... egg nog - kinda like ice cream melt, sorta.
... family smells: turkey cooking, after shave, whiskey, pine, the whatever-it-is, it's uniquely grandma.
... the artifically lonesome sound of the fake train whistle.
... the smell of tablet-in-the-smokestack "smoke" from the steam engine circling the tree.
... hearing "Santa" curse as he'd apparently shock himself 'wiring' Plasticville lights on the plywood.
... running my trains way too fast for the curves...
... getting a second engine, a Santa Fe diesel.
... egg nog - kinda like ice cream melt, sorta.
... family smells: turkey cooking, after shave, whiskey, pine, the whatever-it-is, it's uniquely grandma.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
THE CHRISTMAS LETTER
My annual Christmas letter has been mailed to those for whom we had addresses, and has arrived in San Diego and Los Angeles, in Maine, and Detroit, so it's out. This brings me to posting here in case you want to see it and aren't on the list, which, by the way, has little to do with if you have been naught or nice.
CHRISTMAS LETTER 2009
Lest we forget, the whole rationale for this letter is to spoof other letters. I have to find spoofage, so forgive me if I go dumpster diving.
The latter part of the year brought some excitement as I fell while mowing grass and mowed my toes. After surgery, they are still attached. Thankfully, Terri has hidden the hospital bills from me. I write this at T (toes) minus-7 weeks and am still sporting metal pins sticking from two toes. You can empathize – just shove a stapler into your sandal. Or maybe some Christmas Tree ball hook hangers in your socks. Terri’s car was also hospitalized in an unrelated series of mechanical breakdowns. It is now whereabouts unknown since we traded it in just as soon as it stopped smoking. At almost the same time (and actually planned) I too got a new car which I now use for physics experiments because no matter where I park it, it seems to magnetically attract other cars driven by people enjoying a meal at the wheel while on cell phone. Both cars are smarter than we are. Together there are over 600 pages of owners’ manuals. Driving mine home from the dealer just this week, I thought the navigation voice was going to throw a lit cigarette lighter onto my lap since I disobeyed the instruction. “Turn left. Turn left. Turn left NOW. Make a U-turn, then a U-turn. Make a U-turn and a U-turn NOW. NOW!” Both of us have already endured the misery of Our First Squashed Bug On The Windshield. Each bug was carrying a nasty and large depreciation notice. Neither car requires the key to start it – you just need to have it in your pocket. That seems like a convenience but every time you go near the car you start to fumble in the air for the phantom key. It feels wrong. Yes you can USE the key but why? The car senses you. It adjusts everything the way you like it. You push a button and it starts. My car stores maintenance issues IN THE wireless KEY which isn’t even plugged in! Oh – and the cars ‘learn’ how you drive and adapt to it so they can disapprove later.
The voice navigation system and I had words. “Navigation on” beep “Navigation” “Cancel...” “Say State” “Cancel, No I don’t want... “Kansas” “I didn’t...” “City? Say City?” C’mon!” “Common, Kansas. Say street name” “HOLD ON” “Holdon Street. Say Number...” Plus I think it has an attitude. Kinda snotty, almost clipped, impatient – a female who would be played by Tilda Swinton. This is nothing like the nice British lady who spoke from Terri’s Jaguar nav. Her new nav sounds like she’s a cultured twenty something living with her rich parents in Shanghai after education at Oxford. When recording the prompts, she was wearing her hair down, cascading over the shoulders of her tight-fitting white blouse. And.... where was I just now?
Austin is growing, much like Minneapolis did while we were there. We can drive down almost any road and as we shout over the navigation system voice, can say, “that’s new, that’s new, that’s new!” The economy HAS affected Austin but surveys insist that the economy here is still vibrant. Happily, music still rules! It’s amazing how much good live music there is. We remain in a several year-long drought (which did impact the whistle-fest.) Recent rains have slaked the thirst of some of the plants and trees though the big lake remains about 20 feet below full. El Nino is supposed to bring us extra moisture this winter. Personally, I am certain that has nothing to do with it – our cars will make that happen. We expect it to rain mud.
Now that I have retired from pushing the lawnmower, you should see the guys we hired! They have an amazing mower the operator stands on - it goes very very fast and does ballet! moves – turning on a dime. Dancing With the Stars could have a spinoff: Dancing with the Standonit Mower. Or Line Dancing with Weedwackers.
People seem to comment on the critters we have had visit us – this year I got more aggressive as some beasts were digging up our shrubs. The tally: 3 Armadillos, 1 Raccoon, 1 cat. Just down the street a Bobcat was sighted; and yes, a rattlesnake of some size, said to have survived a Lexus SUV riding back and forth over it. You have to wonder what THEIR navigation system thought about that?
At this writing, Sarah Palin is just beginning her book tour. While she is starring in the Psycho shower scene with John McCain’s campaign wet staff, I saw McCain slather on some be-nice unguent and refer to her as a ‘good friend.’ Huh? He DID look like an old bald weasel when he said it. If she ever gets into real power I fear the rest of the world will drop us from their fantasy-world-government league.
This seems to have been the year when the whining and crying reached out and touched us all – the assault was everywhere. I saw John Stewart asking, “Why now?” He’s right. It came upon us, cresting like a Tsnunami – Obama, Healthcare, The Wars, H1N1 shots, the stimulus package – not the 24 hour Cialis – the other stimulus package. Here’s my take: I blame the media. If there was no publicity, a lot of this stuff would die on the vine. It’s like a mass frenzy of mob-thought (you know: the mob IQ drops, responsibility is lost in the cushion of numbers.) Maybe people are that frustrated. Hey, 665 MILLION people in India HAVE NO TOILETS. Look it up. That’s frustration. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the U S of A could befriend millions of citizens of the world with toilet donations? Porcelain diplomacy! That’d be the ticket. Imagine Hillary in Rashanamanapour, making the first ceremonial squat! Villagers would claw through crowds, just to get to touch her polyester pant suit.
We could trade toilet paper for oil. Or, we could say, “Hey, wipe out that field of poppies and we’ll deliver a dozen spanking new construction toilets...”
I don’t want to bring down the tone of this letter, but the world is supposed to end in 2012. At least you won’t feel singled out. Personally, I don’t believe the gloom and doomers, or that the Mayans really meant their calendar to go on forever. But some do – I have a friend who lives on a boat who has stockpiled hundreds of cans of Dinty Moore and Chef Boy R Dee. He’s anticipating chaos. Better hope he doesn’t drop the can opener overboard.
Terri has dropped the whole Christmas Card choice and purchase on me. I am drawn to cards which are on both ends of any conceivable scale – I like the abstract ones but also the homey-glitter-in-the-snow-on-the-pines cards. Limping into the Hallmark store, though, is not so much a fave. I feel this is a world in which I don’t belong. It’s like Stepford – smiling sales people with strange eyes. Here’s a rack of talking ornaments. Here’s a box of Orna-Mints! Here’s a simulated crystal keepsake onto which you can have engraved the height of your child... each year’s growth can be placed at the approximate true height on your forever pre-lit tree with 400 poke your eye out branches. So know that this beautiful accompanying card was purchased with great care by a man holding his breath to avoid the potpourri and scented candle chemichristmas.
We wish you cheer and peace.
Bob and Terri Wood
www.big-texas-mortgages.com
www.woodsgoods.blogspot.com
www.bobwoodvoiceovers.com
www.photographerbobwood.com
Lest we forget, the whole rationale for this letter is to spoof other letters. I have to find spoofage, so forgive me if I go dumpster diving.
The latter part of the year brought some excitement as I fell while mowing grass and mowed my toes. After surgery, they are still attached. Thankfully, Terri has hidden the hospital bills from me. I write this at T (toes) minus-7 weeks and am still sporting metal pins sticking from two toes. You can empathize – just shove a stapler into your sandal. Or maybe some Christmas Tree ball hook hangers in your socks. Terri’s car was also hospitalized in an unrelated series of mechanical breakdowns. It is now whereabouts unknown since we traded it in just as soon as it stopped smoking. At almost the same time (and actually planned) I too got a new car which I now use for physics experiments because no matter where I park it, it seems to magnetically attract other cars driven by people enjoying a meal at the wheel while on cell phone. Both cars are smarter than we are. Together there are over 600 pages of owners’ manuals. Driving mine home from the dealer just this week, I thought the navigation voice was going to throw a lit cigarette lighter onto my lap since I disobeyed the instruction. “Turn left. Turn left. Turn left NOW. Make a U-turn, then a U-turn. Make a U-turn and a U-turn NOW. NOW!” Both of us have already endured the misery of Our First Squashed Bug On The Windshield. Each bug was carrying a nasty and large depreciation notice. Neither car requires the key to start it – you just need to have it in your pocket. That seems like a convenience but every time you go near the car you start to fumble in the air for the phantom key. It feels wrong. Yes you can USE the key but why? The car senses you. It adjusts everything the way you like it. You push a button and it starts. My car stores maintenance issues IN THE wireless KEY which isn’t even plugged in! Oh – and the cars ‘learn’ how you drive and adapt to it so they can disapprove later.
The voice navigation system and I had words. “Navigation on” beep “Navigation” “Cancel...” “Say State” “Cancel, No I don’t want... “Kansas” “I didn’t...” “City? Say City?” C’mon!” “Common, Kansas. Say street name” “HOLD ON” “Holdon Street. Say Number...” Plus I think it has an attitude. Kinda snotty, almost clipped, impatient – a female who would be played by Tilda Swinton. This is nothing like the nice British lady who spoke from Terri’s Jaguar nav. Her new nav sounds like she’s a cultured twenty something living with her rich parents in Shanghai after education at Oxford. When recording the prompts, she was wearing her hair down, cascading over the shoulders of her tight-fitting white blouse. And.... where was I just now?
Austin is growing, much like Minneapolis did while we were there. We can drive down almost any road and as we shout over the navigation system voice, can say, “that’s new, that’s new, that’s new!” The economy HAS affected Austin but surveys insist that the economy here is still vibrant. Happily, music still rules! It’s amazing how much good live music there is. We remain in a several year-long drought (which did impact the whistle-fest.) Recent rains have slaked the thirst of some of the plants and trees though the big lake remains about 20 feet below full. El Nino is supposed to bring us extra moisture this winter. Personally, I am certain that has nothing to do with it – our cars will make that happen. We expect it to rain mud.
Now that I have retired from pushing the lawnmower, you should see the guys we hired! They have an amazing mower the operator stands on - it goes very very fast and does ballet! moves – turning on a dime. Dancing With the Stars could have a spinoff: Dancing with the Standonit Mower. Or Line Dancing with Weedwackers.
People seem to comment on the critters we have had visit us – this year I got more aggressive as some beasts were digging up our shrubs. The tally: 3 Armadillos, 1 Raccoon, 1 cat. Just down the street a Bobcat was sighted; and yes, a rattlesnake of some size, said to have survived a Lexus SUV riding back and forth over it. You have to wonder what THEIR navigation system thought about that?
At this writing, Sarah Palin is just beginning her book tour. While she is starring in the Psycho shower scene with John McCain’s campaign wet staff, I saw McCain slather on some be-nice unguent and refer to her as a ‘good friend.’ Huh? He DID look like an old bald weasel when he said it. If she ever gets into real power I fear the rest of the world will drop us from their fantasy-world-government league.
This seems to have been the year when the whining and crying reached out and touched us all – the assault was everywhere. I saw John Stewart asking, “Why now?” He’s right. It came upon us, cresting like a Tsnunami – Obama, Healthcare, The Wars, H1N1 shots, the stimulus package – not the 24 hour Cialis – the other stimulus package. Here’s my take: I blame the media. If there was no publicity, a lot of this stuff would die on the vine. It’s like a mass frenzy of mob-thought (you know: the mob IQ drops, responsibility is lost in the cushion of numbers.) Maybe people are that frustrated. Hey, 665 MILLION people in India HAVE NO TOILETS. Look it up. That’s frustration. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the U S of A could befriend millions of citizens of the world with toilet donations? Porcelain diplomacy! That’d be the ticket. Imagine Hillary in Rashanamanapour, making the first ceremonial squat! Villagers would claw through crowds, just to get to touch her polyester pant suit.
We could trade toilet paper for oil. Or, we could say, “Hey, wipe out that field of poppies and we’ll deliver a dozen spanking new construction toilets...”
I don’t want to bring down the tone of this letter, but the world is supposed to end in 2012. At least you won’t feel singled out. Personally, I don’t believe the gloom and doomers, or that the Mayans really meant their calendar to go on forever. But some do – I have a friend who lives on a boat who has stockpiled hundreds of cans of Dinty Moore and Chef Boy R Dee. He’s anticipating chaos. Better hope he doesn’t drop the can opener overboard.
Terri has dropped the whole Christmas Card choice and purchase on me. I am drawn to cards which are on both ends of any conceivable scale – I like the abstract ones but also the homey-glitter-in-the-snow-on-the-pines cards. Limping into the Hallmark store, though, is not so much a fave. I feel this is a world in which I don’t belong. It’s like Stepford – smiling sales people with strange eyes. Here’s a rack of talking ornaments. Here’s a box of Orna-Mints! Here’s a simulated crystal keepsake onto which you can have engraved the height of your child... each year’s growth can be placed at the approximate true height on your forever pre-lit tree with 400 poke your eye out branches. So know that this beautiful accompanying card was purchased with great care by a man holding his breath to avoid the potpourri and scented candle chemichristmas.
We wish you cheer and peace.
Bob and Terri Wood
www.big-texas-mortgages.com
www.woodsgoods.blogspot.com
www.bobwoodvoiceovers.com
www.photographerbobwood.com
Sunday, December 13, 2009
IBUPROFEN WITHDRAWAL?
Per the doc, I ran a two week course of Ibuprofen for pain management. Stopped last night. Holy Moly, the pain is back. I had no idea that stuff worked as well as it did!
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
CHRISTMAS CARDS
This year I bought Hallmark Christmas cards. Nice, but probably overpriced - about a buck a piece. If someone could come up with an internet app for Christmas cards - and I know there are ecards out there but I mean a really good multi-card automated system, I think they'd make out like a bandit.
Please give me a piece of your new riches if you develop this idea.
Think of it - database management... no stamps... no cut tongues licking the darn envelopes.
Please give me a piece of your new riches if you develop this idea.
Think of it - database management... no stamps... no cut tongues licking the darn envelopes.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
BUYING CHRISTMAS CARDS
I know there are so many other important things 'out there' in the real world - The White House party gatecrashers (or is it gatecasheriners?), Tiger Woods and his Holly Jolly Christmas (this just in - he thought the fire hydrant was a garden gnome and we know how evil THEY are...)
But my global reach extends only so far. Today I bought our new supply of Christmas cards. They were on sale, and the selection was surprisingly limited - this - on December First? I didn't want the smiling Santa Face which I later found (35 cards for $3) at the food market. Instead I chose a nice sort of abstract design that looked good to me and seemed to say SNOWFLAKE Christmas - an ideal image. We rarely get snow this far south, but it's fun to watch the cars in Dallas slide into one another in the snow. They run that video on local TV in a loop instead of the Yule Log.
And where do you get Christmas cards? At the local HALLMARK GOLD STORE OF LOVELY CRAP, of course. The store has a scent. The scent is designed to make you think warm thoughts of gramma, as she removes a freshly baked batch of gingerbread to go with her freshly whipped cream. This is to loosen your wallet. It apparently works as I got out with $97 worth (worth?) of cards, one of the few selections where I could get them all in the same design.
There are figurines which greet you from their holy altars of Shelves, record your own message cards (ah - tech!), cards for every incarnation of relationships: "Sure we're divorced but at this special time of the year I wish your tree tinsel gets caught in the vacuum cleaner you stole when we split our stuff up - there was NO court order on that - anyway I hope the tinsel jams the motor, starts a fire, and burns down my half of your damn house." Harsh, but admittedly seasonal.
Or:
"Psychologists say the holiday season is one full of depression. I was going to send you a more expensive card but on my way to the store I saw a rag-tag kid standing shivering in the snow in front of the coffee shop. So instead of buying you a better card, I treated myself to some hot chocolate, to cheer myself up."
Season Greetings.
Or:
"Why your card is not sealed: I found an online story of how some workers at the Hallmark glue factory had H1N1 flu and may have coughed into the vat of glue. So what would YOU do? Merry Fluless Christmas."
We've lost addresses over the travels and also some people have apparently removed us from cherished status to aw, let's just stop this back and forth once a year because we'll never see them again anyway and who cares - Bob is odd and his stupid Christmas letter... is just hard to follow.
Well, the letter is done, though Terri has to edit or scowl still. The cards are in house. The list has been printed. Now if you don't get one, it's because we haven't heard from you in a long time - the statute of card exchange limitations is two Christmases, I believe.
I will publish the Christmas letter for those who want to see what they missed, after all the cards have been sent and would have been received if the temp posties can find your address.
But my global reach extends only so far. Today I bought our new supply of Christmas cards. They were on sale, and the selection was surprisingly limited - this - on December First? I didn't want the smiling Santa Face which I later found (35 cards for $3) at the food market. Instead I chose a nice sort of abstract design that looked good to me and seemed to say SNOWFLAKE Christmas - an ideal image. We rarely get snow this far south, but it's fun to watch the cars in Dallas slide into one another in the snow. They run that video on local TV in a loop instead of the Yule Log.
And where do you get Christmas cards? At the local HALLMARK GOLD STORE OF LOVELY CRAP, of course. The store has a scent. The scent is designed to make you think warm thoughts of gramma, as she removes a freshly baked batch of gingerbread to go with her freshly whipped cream. This is to loosen your wallet. It apparently works as I got out with $97 worth (worth?) of cards, one of the few selections where I could get them all in the same design.
There are figurines which greet you from their holy altars of Shelves, record your own message cards (ah - tech!), cards for every incarnation of relationships: "Sure we're divorced but at this special time of the year I wish your tree tinsel gets caught in the vacuum cleaner you stole when we split our stuff up - there was NO court order on that - anyway I hope the tinsel jams the motor, starts a fire, and burns down my half of your damn house." Harsh, but admittedly seasonal.
Or:
"Psychologists say the holiday season is one full of depression. I was going to send you a more expensive card but on my way to the store I saw a rag-tag kid standing shivering in the snow in front of the coffee shop. So instead of buying you a better card, I treated myself to some hot chocolate, to cheer myself up."
Season Greetings.
Or:
"Why your card is not sealed: I found an online story of how some workers at the Hallmark glue factory had H1N1 flu and may have coughed into the vat of glue. So what would YOU do? Merry Fluless Christmas."
We've lost addresses over the travels and also some people have apparently removed us from cherished status to aw, let's just stop this back and forth once a year because we'll never see them again anyway and who cares - Bob is odd and his stupid Christmas letter... is just hard to follow.
Well, the letter is done, though Terri has to edit or scowl still. The cards are in house. The list has been printed. Now if you don't get one, it's because we haven't heard from you in a long time - the statute of card exchange limitations is two Christmases, I believe.
I will publish the Christmas letter for those who want to see what they missed, after all the cards have been sent and would have been received if the temp posties can find your address.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
DOMESTIC MYSTERY
Two flowerpot sit 40 feet from each other, flanking the pool. It's about 8 feet to the ground. One has several inches of water at the top of the pot, which has always easily drained in the past. The saucer is dry but it has a hole for water to escape, assuming it makes it to the bottom of the pot, which it always has.
The other pot is dry.
We don't think it rained. If it did, overnight, how did one pot get wet the other not? By the way, the seat cushions about 6 feet from the pot in question, are dry.
- Why one pot? Incidentally, both pots have identical soil.
- How?
- Cue the X files theme.
The other pot is dry.
We don't think it rained. If it did, overnight, how did one pot get wet the other not? By the way, the seat cushions about 6 feet from the pot in question, are dry.
- Why one pot? Incidentally, both pots have identical soil.
- How?
- Cue the X files theme.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
WIRELESS TOES
You bet! No bluetooth here. Yesterday the doc removed the wires from my toes. The wires were longer in real life than in my imagination. Removal did not hurt - I don't know if the nerves nearby were lost in the accident or what, but I can write I am really happy they are GONE!!! Why? So I can begin the process of reverting to shoes.
Doc said I can expect some pain, and indeed I do. I can tell from the little pulses of discomfort which periodically have visited, that putting weight - after 8 weeks - on it and the surrounding tissue, blown out and healing bones, will hurt.
On the other hand, he pulled off the toenail and I didn't feel it. So clearly some nerves are there, some not. I was told 2 of 4 were left. I was also told this was one of the 'miracle' saves the doc has performed this year. I don't think he was bragging.
So literally, it's now the next step.
Doc said I can expect some pain, and indeed I do. I can tell from the little pulses of discomfort which periodically have visited, that putting weight - after 8 weeks - on it and the surrounding tissue, blown out and healing bones, will hurt.
On the other hand, he pulled off the toenail and I didn't feel it. So clearly some nerves are there, some not. I was told 2 of 4 were left. I was also told this was one of the 'miracle' saves the doc has performed this year. I don't think he was bragging.
So literally, it's now the next step.
Friday, November 20, 2009
THE CHRISTMAS LETTER
At Christmas I used to send out spoofs of things - KEEP THIS TICKET tickets, balloons, glitter - accompanied by stories I'd make up to justify the nonsense (like: The LEGEND OF THE LITTLE BALLOON BOY.) At some point this morphed into The Christmas Letter which was a spoof of the 'brag' or 'keeping in touch' letters you often receive from old friends at holiday time.
Terri tries to keep me in check. But I really want to loon out creatively. When I write about fake family members, she, or her sense of humor, asks for an edit.
This year, I am stumped. What I wrote so far is too typical.
What if Santa was a Vampire?
I know. Over the top. Sorry. Again.
Terri tries to keep me in check. But I really want to loon out creatively. When I write about fake family members, she, or her sense of humor, asks for an edit.
This year, I am stumped. What I wrote so far is too typical.
What if Santa was a Vampire?
I know. Over the top. Sorry. Again.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
NEW CAR
BEFORE
I am just 20 minutes away from going to pickup my new car. No doubt pictures will follow... I am excited and it will be a pleasure to get out from under the 92,000 mile 'doubts' which, like a tiny oil leak, make me wonder what is ready to explode or fail.
Over the course of a car you get used to these things (that clicking in the dash that seems to be a shorted cycle/uncycle thing in the heating system) - that engine noise, the judder when backing up or turning sharply, the broken latch, the door you have to try to open twice. It adds up and stresses a bit. Under warranty and new, whatever it is, is fixed free and will not be ignored.
I have half-expected my AC to quit too - not an issue now that it's fall, but quite the deal (and EXPENSIVE) in the summer... why? Because it'd be so darn impossible to ignore!
So, in an hour I will be at the dealer and done with my ol' A6... it's been good to me and I'll miss it, sorta, but the NEW Supercharged A6 will endear itself, no doubt.
AFTER
Nice ride! There's a lot to get used to but I am already loving the Supercharged 300HP engine. It steps OUT and I really wanted that! Overall, the new A6 is comfortable and equipped (Prestige package) with almost anything I can think of. It doesn't have the radar that actually takes over if you are about to crash but I'm not ready for that degree of robot. This does have voice command, and that could be fun.
As I pulled out of the dealer's lot, my old car was sitting there looking kind of dumpy - I hadn't washed it - why? If a car could look forlorn, that's what I saw in my last glimpse. I don't name cars or anthropomorphize them, but it looked sad.
Now to attack that owner's manual.
I am just 20 minutes away from going to pickup my new car. No doubt pictures will follow... I am excited and it will be a pleasure to get out from under the 92,000 mile 'doubts' which, like a tiny oil leak, make me wonder what is ready to explode or fail.
Over the course of a car you get used to these things (that clicking in the dash that seems to be a shorted cycle/uncycle thing in the heating system) - that engine noise, the judder when backing up or turning sharply, the broken latch, the door you have to try to open twice. It adds up and stresses a bit. Under warranty and new, whatever it is, is fixed free and will not be ignored.
I have half-expected my AC to quit too - not an issue now that it's fall, but quite the deal (and EXPENSIVE) in the summer... why? Because it'd be so darn impossible to ignore!
So, in an hour I will be at the dealer and done with my ol' A6... it's been good to me and I'll miss it, sorta, but the NEW Supercharged A6 will endear itself, no doubt.
AFTER
Nice ride! There's a lot to get used to but I am already loving the Supercharged 300HP engine. It steps OUT and I really wanted that! Overall, the new A6 is comfortable and equipped (Prestige package) with almost anything I can think of. It doesn't have the radar that actually takes over if you are about to crash but I'm not ready for that degree of robot. This does have voice command, and that could be fun.
As I pulled out of the dealer's lot, my old car was sitting there looking kind of dumpy - I hadn't washed it - why? If a car could look forlorn, that's what I saw in my last glimpse. I don't name cars or anthropomorphize them, but it looked sad.
Now to attack that owner's manual.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
YOU CAN'T WALTZ IN A PNEUMATIC BOOT
With apologies to the late Roger Miller's YOU CAN'T ROLLERSKATE IN A BUFFALO HERD...
I am conflicted about today's doctor appointment. I hope he'll remove the wires from my toes. I hope it will not be a painful visit. I'm not sure those two thoughts can be reconciled.
Tomorrow marks the six week anniversary-? of my accident. Here's am update: with the boot on, I can walk around, drive, climb stairs. Without it on I can't do weight bearing, except on my heel. It's awkward. I feel trapped.
The toes look swollen. One wire is starting to move - and that's supposed to be a good sign of impending removal. The Big Toe wire, however, seems to be permanent.
I am eager to move away from this event. X-Rays today may tell the tale.
I am conflicted about today's doctor appointment. I hope he'll remove the wires from my toes. I hope it will not be a painful visit. I'm not sure those two thoughts can be reconciled.
Tomorrow marks the six week anniversary-? of my accident. Here's am update: with the boot on, I can walk around, drive, climb stairs. Without it on I can't do weight bearing, except on my heel. It's awkward. I feel trapped.
The toes look swollen. One wire is starting to move - and that's supposed to be a good sign of impending removal. The Big Toe wire, however, seems to be permanent.
I am eager to move away from this event. X-Rays today may tell the tale.
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