Football Fan Comfort

My nephew, Brian (38), LOVES the Cincinnati Bengals football team and his birthday is next week. The Bengals happen to be playing the biggest game of the season tomorrow night here in Cincinnati. They are 6-5 and their opponent, The Baltimore something-or-others, are 9-2. Both teams are in the AFC North division and there are play-off concerns with this BIG GAME. Knowing what a fan Brian is, I asked him if he wanted to drive the 2 hours from Columbus to here to watch the game. HE assumed that I had tickets to the actual game and was inviting him the the stadium, not my home. Why would I do that?

Silly boy. He was all excited like I was sending him to the Vatican to meet the Pope personally. No, come to think of it, I think he would rather shake Carson Palmer’s hand than kiss the Pontiff’s ring.

I just don’t “get” why people want to live, breathe and party with that rowdy, almost un-civilized world of professional football tail-gating fans. If people did what these devotees do outside of a stadium atmosphere, many of them would be seeking legal counsel.

I told Brian that I had meant that he could come to my home where we have a nice big screen TV so he can see the action so closely that the number of dental fillings behind Chad Johnson’s broad smile could be meticulously scrutinized. He could sit on a comfortable leather recliner that is more than 15 inches wide with NO one sitting next to him where he would have to sit up and down when they do. I went on to entice him with a bathroom available a mere seven steps away ~ with toilets that flushed; both hot and cold running water and fresh, clean hand towels. The temperature inside would be a nice cozy 70 degrees with no wind or rain.
None of this impressed him. He wanted the “real atmosphere”….so I told him I would turn off the hot water, remove the hand-towels and plug up the toilet. As he was sitting on a hard wooden chair to watch the game, I would serve him a cold hot dog wrapped in a wet paper thin tissue and charge him $7.00 for a warm, half spilled, off-brand beer. With windows wide open and the fans set at maximum gusts, I thought I could add to his authentic experience by a promise to stand behind him, kick his seat and yell for the other team while occasionally trickling beer on his head. I would also assure him that I would stand in front of him when it was 4th and inches on the Ravens 1 foot line and then turn off the TV for any replays. Maybe to top off his event, I will move his car so after the game, he would have to walk a mile in the rainy 45 % weather to go home.

I know that after checking the ticket prices and the weather forecast, I like the idea of watching the game from my living room with the accommodating seating arrangements, warmth index, water closet location and replay capability. I can spend the $250 for the two game tickets on one heck of a nice grilled steak dinner at half time, complete with a glass or two of a vintage 1978 Merlot and a shot of “The Dew” to celebrate the win.

Brian, for your 55th birthday I'll bet you'll want to join me in my living room to watch the game. I just hope my rocking chair doesn't make too much noise to interfere with your enjoyment.

Animal House

I took my 13 year old Yorkie-poo, Bailey, to the Veterinarian’s office yesterday. The main problem was that he (Bailey, not the vet) kept scooting his little rear end on the carpet, making lovely art drawings that made me wonder if he might have worms ~ or possibly, a squelched desire to boast a doggie-art showing at some canine art gallery? I arrived at the office bearing a “gift” for the vet’s assistant in the form of an obligatory stool sample for testing. I really didn’t enjoy that task but at least I wasn’t the one inspecting the “doo-doo” up close and personal.

Upon entering the lobby of the Dr. Wag’s (not his REAL name) office, I noticed a couple of things:
1)He has an enormous 200 gallon fish tank embedded below the welcome counter…and the 40 or 50 fish are actually swimming and living! This surprised me based upon my experience growing up with a 2 pint tank and two goldfish that swam a motionless back-stoke in the toilet more than in the tank. I always wondered why Bonnie & Clyde kept making a clean “get-away” with Mom quickly replacing them. I can still hear the toilet flush and Mom whispering a hurried “May they rest in peace”. The fish tank is a nice touch in that the animals coming in for treatment can go nose to nose with another creature that appears healthy. Maybe it even calms the patient so the nervous shaking (of the animal, not the owner) is kept to a minimum, without causing undue alarm with a possible spike on the earthquake seismograph.

2)There is a TV monitor that plays a show on a continuous loop. No, they don’t show old movies of Lassie but they do have a slide presentation of about 50 dogs and cats that look like they were just groomed and posed for an Alpo commercial, without Lorne Greene. This certainly kept ME entertained, while Bailey sniffed the aquatic life. Of course, I compared every snapshot of Rufus, Boomer, Woody, Madonna and Fido with my pictures of Bailey and not ONE of THEM could beat MY POOCH for cuteness in a mug shot line-up or in the afore-mentioned Alpo commercial.

Even though there was entertainment for both the patient and the owner, I would have preferred a wet bar and some smutty novels to keep me occupied. After the exam of Bailey and a young assistant taking him into another room to “express” his little anal glands, the bill was $103.85. At least they gave him a shot and 7 pills. Since HE got the shot, I’m taking the pills. Seems only fair, don’t you think?

Actually, I think I prefer the carpet doggie-art to that whole experience and I KNOW my wallet does!

I Slept LATE on Black Friday

Yesterday on Thanksgiving, my wonderful family came over. Eight luminous beings who brighten my day whenever I spend even a smidgen of time with ANY ONE of them!
They came at 10:48 a.m. and left at 8:36 p.m. Each one, except 5 month old Parker, pitched in and helped with all chores. We ate appetizers for 2 hours, followed by two meals and dessert. They all helped clean up so that my kitchen looked better than before they arrived. We played lots of games, both sitting and standing, although Annie and I should have RUN a bit more and maybe we could have beaten Brian & Sean at Ping Pong.
I was kidded unmercifully by "the boys" about numerous things and it reminded me of when Dave and Dad would do the same to Mom. I reacted just like Mom did, which did surprise me but it actually felt good.
At one point playing cards with Annie, Angela, Brian, Sean and Connie, I had both Griffin and Cooper on my lap and I whispered to myself, "Life is Great, God".
Uh, maybe that was AFTER I won at Wizard...

It had been along day since I had awakened a bit early to feed the dog, cat and take one of them for a walk and get prepare for the day's festivities.
When everyone left, I sat with Bailey and stared into space for an hour while I counted my plethora of blessings and shuffled to bed, tired but happy. Well, I remember waking up after 10 hours of sleep in my bed so I think I transported myself there.

So, today is Black Friday. That seems like an ominous title for a day of smiles to procure great sales on present people are buying for their friends and family whom they love.
Think about how you feel when hearing or reading some words that reflect "black"... "his face turned dark with anger"...or..."The student received 5 black marks in 15 minutes!"...or..."it was a dark and dreary night"...or..."the guy got "black-balled" from the club for marrying Madonna"...well, you get my drift.

This "Black Friday" is named bacause retailers have the opportunity to turn their 11 months of lousy "in the red" financials into a profitable "in the black" year because of people buying so many Christmas presents in one day. 365 days in the year and one Black Friday saves the world. I kinda feel like I'm not doing my part because I spend a ton on money all year at non-discounted prices and here I am sleeping in and not taking advantage of the 79% off "DEALS" I can get today.
Doesn't make sense to me.

But I am thankful that I was lucky enough to enjoy my family for a day of togetherness...but I did miss my almost 14 year old great nephew, Connor, who had other plans.

Hey, I just found (18 month) Cooper's Mickey Mouse cap in the refrigerator's crisper drawer. I TOLD you everyone pitched in to help!

Hey, A Little Service, Please!

Yesterday I visited an auto dealership to have a minor problem fixed on my 2005 Buick LaCrosse. I had made an appointment so I was disappointed right off the bat with their greeting. The cheery, starched-collared service manager, Jerry, informed me that “we are a little short-handed today” and “it may be 25 minutes before someone can get to your vehicle.” Ms. Grump (that would be ME)said to herself, “Oh, here we go ~ I’ll be here all day. This will probably cost an arm, leg and half an eyebrow.” (I can be such a merry little gal sometimes)

I was ushered into the waiting room and was surprised to see it cleaner than the last time I spent 3 frustrating hours there. WOW, I saw people in comfortable chairs surfing the internet on computers that were provided. The smell was quite different from the musty, oil-soaked aroma I had experienced a few months earlier. My nose caught the distinctive scent of fresh-baked donuts and freshly brewed vanilla-bean coffee. Why, Ms. Grump turned into Ms. Ecstatic until, when I reached for a donut, an electric shock pulsated through my being like what Ben Franklin must have felt while attempting to fly a kite with a key. It was my conscious. CRUD!
At first I thought that maybe the dealership was watching out for our health and attempting to dissuade empty calories from jumping on innocent clients by hooking up a mini-electric shocker.
I’ve heard of “sticker-shock” but never “cream-puff shock.”

OK, maybe they didn’t have the donuts rigged like an electric chair. I was caught a little off guard with the spruced-up waiting room which I had nick-named “fuming room” and hung a sign to that effect during my prior stay. So maybe my imagination got carried away with the bouquet of the bismark.
I actually enjoyed my next 40 minutes as I was able to get some work done on the computer station they had recently installed.
Jerry, the service manager, returned with my keys explaining that not only was the problem fixed, there would be no charge since the car was under warranty.
“We washed your car and it’s waiting for you out the front door. Happy Thanksgiving!”
I mumbled an embarrassed “thank you” as I remembered my first thoughts of how I originally visualized what a catastrophe this stopover would pan out to be. I really don't like being SO wrong and then to add insult to injury (whatever that means), when I opened my car door, I found a juicy red apple on the driver’s seat accompanied by a hand-signed thank you card. Sigh.

Now I really felt mortified about my original negativity.

You don’t suppose they would mind if I showed up every day to have them check “a little rattle under the hood?” I could have breakfast and get some work done.

(I know you are thinking, “Peg, I think that you may have more than a little rattle under YOUR hood!)

Thanksgiving Done RIGHT

When I was growing up, my Mom insisted that I help her cook from the time I could use a step-stool to reach the counter. She was an awesome and patient teacher and never ONCE required me to react to her directives by saying, “YES, CHEF!”
One Thanksgiving, she gave me the opportunity to read the “turkey dressing” recipe for home-made turkey stuffing and add the seasonings in with the croutons she had made 3 days earlier. She busied herself on another preparation task by cooking the giblets to be added later to the gravy. The challenge for me in MY task was that I must have missed the “class” on reading her writing. Her T for Tablespoon looked a LOT like her t for teaspoon.
Instead of 4 TEASPOONS of salt, I added 4 TABLESPOONS, which for you novice chefs, is almost 3 times what is needed. Mom caught me just as I was adding the last mound of salt and she screamed like Elvis himself had just appeared in the doorway (keep in mind, that this WAS a long time ago). She tried to “fix” my salty mistake and calmed herself as she muttered something about “she’s no Julia Child”…
From then on, Mom continued to bestow upon me...all kinds of helpful ideas.

Thursday I will have 5 adults and 3 children, ages 6 months; 19 months and 6 years, over for a dinner that Mom spent 46 years teaching me to do right.
This is what I am going to do:
I will wear a whistle and as people arrive they will each be given a task to complete regarding the preparing, cooking and cleaning. They will have a time table for each entry. I will use the whistle to get attention ONLY is I need to.

Guest arrive at 11 a.m. – NOT BEFORE….I need my rest.

Dinner – 2:14 p.m.

Peg – Put turkey in oven at 9:18 a.m.
Connie – Make sure Peg keeps everybody else on track and doesn't drink too much. That could muffle the whistle.
Brian – Make sure everyone has what they want to drink
Annie – Make chili appetizer at 11:20 a.m.
Angela – Put out shrimp at 11:30 a.m.
Sean – Put out cheese and cracker at 11:30 a.m.
Keep kids out of the kitchen
Brian – Pull turkey from the oven at 1:28 p.m.
Put potato casserole in oven at 1:35 p.m.
Carve turkey at 1:58 p.m.
Angela – Put green bean casserole in oven at 1:50 p.m.
Take green bean casserole out of oven at 2:10 p.m.
Take potato casserole out of oven at 2:10 p.m.
- Make crescent rolls and put in oven at 1:58 p.m.
- Take crescent rolls out at 2:12 p.m.
Sean – Make salad at 1:55 p.m.
Annie-belle & Griffin – Dress table at 1 p.m. including butter and water pitcher
Annie-belle – Make dressing and put in microwave when you are supposed to.
- start gravy at 1:45 p.m.
Griffin – light candles at 2:10 p.m.
Sean – Pour water and wine at 2:05 p.m.

Dinner is served at 2:14 p.m.
Sean – Blessing

2:18 – Everyone helps clear dishes
2:20 p.m., Brian & Sean do dishes

2:40 p.m. games – Connie in charge

4 p.m. dessert – Angela coordinates

More games and frivolity

6 - 6:30 p.m. Ping Pong tournament ~ Peg wins.

8 p.m, Everyone leaves after cleaning up downstairs and taking trash out.

Friday – Everyone writes me a thank you note to me for all the work I did.

I’m grateful to have such a cooperative family.

Mom taught me right, and for that, I am truly thankful.

Burning Up The Phone Lines

Last night I checked my email to find a message from a good friend from my college days (1973)...
Oh crud, I always thought people were old who used the words from the ____ "DAYS". Now here I am doing it!
But actually, Jennie, who lives in Phoenix, and I have kept in contact and we try to connect about every 4 to 6 months.

Anyway, in the email, Jennie was asking for confirmation that a mutual friend of ours had died. Apparently she had discovered this information when she was bored and decided to look up old acquaintances on the www. and googled our friend, Susie. My answering this kind of question by email didn't seem appropriate so I punched Jennie's number on my phone. It was tough to call her to give her the details of Susie's passing because they weren't pretty.

As we talked, we reminisced a bit. I think I tend to "freeze frame" the people from "my past" and remember snippets of who they were when I saw them the last time..even if it's been a month or 30 years...my "freze frames may look like:
Is the person still 120 pounds; laughing hysterically at their own jokes (hmmm..that might still be ME); playfully fighting with their boyfriend, Harold; flippin' burgers at Joe's;sliding into home face-first; wearing the lampshade on the head without anything else; playing guitar at the Maplewood Inn; eating pizza with peanut-buttter; smokin' a bit of wacky weed now and then; a republican?

Talking with Jennie last night was great, as usual. We not only gave tribute to Susie, but we also recollected random old stories and events and wondered together how _____ is. That was nice. We continued chatting but now it was about new stuff, which is even nicer.
Before I called Jennie, I was feeling lousy with remnants of a cold, but after I hung up, I felt great.

I freeze frame the thought that talking long distance USED to (in the "OLDEN DAYS") cost about 50 cents a minute! I know you young whipper-snappers can't imagine THAT, but it's true.
What was extra special last night was that I could talk with Jennie for free! Well, I have unlimited long distance with my phone package so it FEELS free.
So, why don't I call her more frequently?

And why didn't I call Susie more often?

Happy Anniversary, Mom & Dad!

Today is my (deceased) parents’ 63rd wedding anniversary. I reflect on this date with obvious gratitude because had they not united, I would not be here. My big brother Dave, who at times, did double duty as my best friend, wouldn’t have existed and therefore HIS off-springs, Brian and Sean, and in turn, THEIR kids wouldn’t have graced this earth with their presence.

My folks both set wonderful examples for us to follow:

A) Put God first -
•We gave thanks before every meal, said our prayers every night, and gave our energies and income to the Church as well as to other charities. To this day, I give gratitude prior to almost each meal, whether at a restaurant or in my home.
(Mom once kicked my Dad under the table when a Priest came for dinner and Pop nervously forgot to pray. Finally Mom said, “Hey, with my cooking, this food might taste better is we say grace.”)

B) Put family right next to God –
•Mom used to straighten the house and re-map her make-up at 5 p.m. in anticipation of Dad’s return home from work. They always greeted each other with a kiss, doing the same when they left the house, even if they were just going to the store. This might be because Mom lost her Mother as a result of what seemed to be minor car accident when she hit her head on the windshield. She had been on a 20 minute errand.
Their showing affection in front of us was a great example…how else would we learn it to show our children who could show their children?
Mom used to say that when she heard Dad open the door, her heart would skip
a beat. She said that’s how every marriage should be, no matter how long the
union had lasted.
I loved the times when Dad would surprise Mom in the middle of the day by
coming home and taking her to lunch.
They made sure that they kept their marriage strong by having a date alone as
often as they could. We learned to honor and encourage it.

• We ate meals together as a family 80% of the time which allowed us to shared our days’ experiences. That’s how we learned to talk, laugh and figure out solutions together to problems. Even though we all had extra-curricular commitments, Mom planned the meals AROUND all activities ~ AFTER football practice or BEFORE a swim meet or BEFORE they went bowling. It took some creativity at times and some work, but communication was a top priority. We didn’t need cell phones and email because we talked about what we were doing and where we would be at our meal-time.

Sundays were our family day. We took rides in the country, we learned to play games and we knew that every Sunday after Church, we would be together. Most of the time, no one else was there because Mom felt we needed that one day for US.

• Both my parents supported us in our interests. I know that my folks couldn’t afford the golf lessons that they provided for me but they thought I had a special talent so they sacrificed a few things so I could grow in an area that would feed my self esteem.

• Humor and laughter were always there for us, even in tough times.

• If they had arguments, they tried (for the most part) to keep it to themselves instead of having us be an audience to it.

• They never used bad language.

C) Be a Good Friend
• They both showed their generosity in both time and money with their friends. Dad would take a friend who had become blind to the bowling alley to “watch” their Monday bowling league when no one else would bother with him. Mom was forever trading everything from book titles to babysitting chores with her friends.

Were they perfect? Nope.
We were by NO stretch of the imagination candidates for a reality show for "Most Perfect Family to Rival Father Knows Best" My parents had a few flaws...and although they LOVED their time together and they were each other’s best friend, they sometimes enjoyed their cocktail hour(s) a bit too much. They would get to talking and talking and bending the elbow in rhythm to the upbeat conversation.
But that taught us something too.

Did all the GLORIOUS things that I have referred to happen ALL the time? Heck no, but enough that I remember that maybe that’s how it SHOULD be.

I know THIS ~ my parents were darn good role models.
They loved us with all their hearts and I could talk to them about almost anything (sans politics)…
and I KNOW they loved each other.

Here’s to you, Mom and Dad!
I love you and thank you for "gettin' it together!

The Young Negotiator

Griffin came over for lunch today and he kept reminding me that he is SIX years old now (for the last 14 hours) and he needs new SIX year old presents for Christmas.
He spotted a TOYS R US catalog and started tearing through it with a pen, circling his favorite items. After 30 minutes, he informed me that he was done.
He had circled 55 contenders for best present for Griffin.
I asked him if he could go back through it and mark an "A" for his most, most, most favorite toys and put a "B" by his plain favorites. He dutifully completed that task in about 5 minutes, painstakingly reviewing all his previously circled dream gifts.
He placed an A on top of ...55 items. I asked if he had ANY "B" choices and he said, "No, but I TRIED!"

I attempted a different approach and suggested that he review the catalog one more time and put a checkmark by the FIVE ABSOLUTE items that he cannot live without.
He, again, took his job seriously and took 5 more minutes placing his checkmarks VERY carefully. As he started to hand me the catalog, he pulled it back and said, "Wait, can I just add THREE little checkmarks?"
When all was said and done, he had spent almost an hour dreaming, circling, marking and checking and he ended up with 22 of the 55 items as his ultimate favorites.
I didn't want to get his hopes up so I reasoned with him that he would only receive a couple of these gifts.

He looked at me, looked down, looked back up and shrugged as he reminded me that the more presents HE received, the more he could give away to kids who didn't get any gifts at all at Christmas, just like he was doing with some of his recent birthday gifts.

I'm applying for a TOYS R US credit card today.

Origin of "BREAK A LEG"

Over the years I have been involved with many theater productions, and actors seem to have some strange "superstitions". But one of the strangest is to never say "Good Luck" to someone before a performance.
Wishing one "good luck" is bad luck. But saying "Break a leg" is good luck.
Why are actors so backward? I researched the meaning behind such a dumb tradition and this is what I discovered.

Actors have always been a superstitious bunch, as you might expect from a profession in which employment is sporadic, audiences fickle and reputations fragile.

The saying is widely used among actors and musicians in the theatre today, sometimes before every performance, but more often reserved for first night. Where it comes from has for decades been a source of dispute and here are some speculations:

* In earlier times, actors wished one another “may you break your leg”, in the hope that the performance would be so successful that the performer would be called forth to take a bow — to bend his knee.
* At one time audiences showed their appreciation by throwing money on the stage; to pick the coins up, actors had to break their legs, that is, kneel or bend down.
* The curtains on either side of a stage were called the legs, so that to pass through the legs was to make it out on to the stage ready to give a good performance, or perhaps expressing the hope that you will need to pass through them at the end of the show to take a curtain call, implying your performance had been good.
* The saying really refers to getting one’s big break, that the performance will be good enough to ensure success in one’s career.
* The famous French actress Sarah Bernhardt had a leg amputated in 1915, which didn’t stop her performing; it is considered good luck to mention her in the hope that some of her theatrical prowess will rub off by association.
* John Wilkes Booth, the actor who assassinated President Lincoln, broke his leg when he jumped on to the stage to escape afterward. Somehow, reminding fellow actors of this event is supposed to lead to good luck in the performance.

The above leaves me to wonder:

If John Wilkes Booth had strained his groin, how may the saying have changed?

I also wonder if football players say "Break a nose"' or "Sip your soup" for luck...or as big as they are, maybe they can say "Good Luck" without worry.

The Gift That Is Driving Me "Nuts"

I was "lucky" enough to receive a beautiful small bird feeder as a gift last winter. Since the cute little feathered friends don't rely on supplemental cuisine until late fall, I just recently gave this "present" a high profile place of honor.

We have a scenic backyard facing a wooded area, so I decided to hang the feeder on a small Dogwood tree. I was giddy with excitement at the prospect of sitting on my enclosed back porch to witness the variety of hungry birds flocking to their new "dining room".

I settled into my favorite stuffed chair, accompanied by a nice cup of cider and waited.
WOW! Sure enough, they must have heard the dinner bell and I sat astonished that within an hour, I saw cardinals and woodpeckers and finches and....lions and tigers and bears, Oh, MY!
OK, I didn't see lions, tigers and bears but I DID see rats with tails that some would call "squirrels" invading the party. I was so frustrated that these bullies were scaring off the delicate birds and inhaling the grub like football players before the "big game".
Their table manners left a lot to be desired too, with BIRD food flying everywhere.
Don't squirrels know they are supposed to be eating NUTS, not bird seed?

Plan A - I'll move the feeder to the outer branch where the fury-creatures CAN'T reach and the feathered creatures CAN. WRONG...these squirrels were trained by P.T. Barnum himself. They flew through the air with all four paws spread to acquire a precarious spot on top of the feeder. They would then balance like a tight-rope walker as the little feeder swayed, then contorted themselves upside down to pilfer the goods.

I called the local authorities to discuss my options as to the methods of ridding myself and my bird-friends of the invaders. They weren't much help at all as they informed me that I could get jail time for what I had in mind.

Plan B - I decided to visit the local WILD BIRDS UNLIMITED store, apparently so I get get confused with the 37 different "squirrel-proof" feeders one can acquire, not to mention what currency could get separated from my wallet. I purchased shepherd's hook to attach the feeder on and hopefully the squirrels would just slide off. WRONG. I have Houdini squirrels and they scampered up the pole like it was a ladder.

Now I have NO BIRDS at ALL visiting my "gift"...

Plan C - Spend MORE money and procure a better anti-Squirrel feeder. $90. bought the perfect EAT-AT-PEG'S aviary restaurant. This is not a birdhouse anymore, but a glass spiral container for bird-munchies, hanging from the same Dogwood tree.

I didn't want to waste the original present of the cute birdhouse so I strapped it to the deck railing for the squirrels. They seem to be playing poker as they eat, scratch their furry bellies and burp. At least now I can now watch both species enjoy a frugal repast.

The cost of my "gift" was a total of $221.45 when I include gasoline for 4 trips to the store, the first month's worth of bird and squirrel cuisine and the two new feeders.

It would be greatly appreciated that any future gifts should be able to fit in my wallet please.

The Gift That Keeps On COSTING...or...What We Do To Keep Friendships

I love my family.
I love my friends.
I love presents.

However, sometimes I don't love the gifts that are bestowed on me from my family and friends.


Have YOU ever received a gift that cost YOU more than your last car?


THE MIME
One year for Christmas, my best friend gave me a poster of THE MIME...I never did slap it up on my bedroom wall because after all, I wasn't in college anymore where I used to secure my David Cassidy posters all over my dorm room with scotch tape. I needed a nice, classy frame. Unfortunately, I kept forgetting to get one.
Lynne kept asking me why I hadn't hung up my Christmas present yet. I kept telling her that I was thinking of moving and I hated to put another tape mark on the wall.
(I have to say that Lynne never thought that I was thrilled with the gifts she chose for me over the years and I think that she felt a little insecure about their acceptance.
Oh, well....)

So, fast forward 10 months and I received a lucrative job offer in the thriving metropolis of Toledo. The move was not fun but what move is?
I had totally forgotten about my rolled-up poster that had long-ago been packed away.
Forgotten, that is, until my generous gift-giving friend, Lynne, called me at work one day to tell me she wanted to come visit me at my new apartment. She had given me three weeks to get settled and was anxious to see my new "digs."
"Great! When are you coming?" I asked.
"This weekend ~ and I can't wait to see where you put the MIME poster!"
I kinda murmured an obligatory, "Yippee" and added "I can't wait to see you..."

GULP..PANIC!
I had 4 days to find the poster, take it to a frame shop and hang it up before she knocked on my front door. I found that big-city Toledo hosted just ONE frame shop within 40 miles, but at least I found a place to help me out. Whoa...I still needed to find the Mr. MIME!
I left work at lunch time, trucked home and tore through packed boxes in my nervous attempt to capture the sucker. After 45 minutes, I found it but in my haste to retrieve it from it's hiding place, I ripped it. This was a big time tear that the nuns working on The Shroud of Turin couldn't help.

"Oh, crud"...and other words not quite ready for prime-time spilled out of me like Old Faithful.
Where was I going to get a new MIME replacement and have it framed in time to spare my friend jail time from the crime she would, without a doubt, commit against me? (an offense that the attorneys on Boston Legal would have trouble defending?)

I had an idea. I called Hilda, the friend of Lynne's who accompanied her when she bought the poster 11 months earlier. She, after 15 minutes, remembered the name of the shop where it had been purchased ~ but it was in Columbus, 2 hours away! I called the number anyway and sure enough, they had the poster, with one MAJOR difference ~ it had been signed by the artist. "Oh, crab-cakes!!" (and other expletives)
Now this "present" would cost me $65.00 (instead of $12.00 for an un-signed print like Lynne had given me) Then he offered to overnight it to me for an added $16.00.
"OK, I guess it's better than getting maimed." (a remark the clerk obviously didn't hear or care if he heard)

The print arrived the next day and I rushed it over to the frame shop. They told me they could have it double-matted and framed by Monday, or Saturday by the latest.
"Oh, rat puppies!" She's coming Friday!"
After begging the manager to finish the project in two days and consequently agreeing to a 20% up-charge for a rush job, I was promised my MIME would be done on time. I paid the entire $185 upfront to save time when I came in on Friday.

As you can imagine, when Friday came,I was as nervous as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.
I left work early and picked up the framed autographed print without major incident except a blithe remark whispered by the manager as I was leaving, "At least she didn't CRY today."
I raced home with my prize but then found myself in a quandary as to where the heck to place this HUGE piece of artwork (the nomenclature morphs from a poster to a print to a piece of art when money escalates close to the national debt).
I didn't have time to re-arrange my whole apartment to find a place for this 24"x48" intruder. The only spot in my tiny dwelling that had a blank wall was in my bedroom.
I grabbed a hammer and the appropriate hanging materials and just as I centered Mr. Mime, I heard THE KNOCK.
"IT'S LYNNE!"..my heart pounded. I calmed myself with self-talk ~ "Settle down, Peg...it ok now....she'll never know you ripped her present."

After the mandatory "hello hugs" Lynne started her own self-tour of the apartment and repeatedly said, "well, where is it?"
"What are you looking for?", I coyly responded.
"Oh, you know", as she slapped me playfully on the shoulder, "the MIME!"
As she finally found it on the bedroom wall I could tell that she was disappointed that it hadn't secured a grander placement for itself in the living room. I cut her thinking off by spewing, "Oh, I just LOVE waking up every day to gaze upon the beautiful MIME!"
THAT seemed to mollify her a bit. I finally started to relax and as I guided her out of the room with the promise of a glass of her favorite adult libation, she stopped abruptly..spun around and headed back to the "art".

"This isn't the same print that I got you," she accused.
"Oh, CRAP!, I breathed...she noticed the autograph!"
"Wh..what are you talking about?" I stammered.
"The print that I bought for you wasn't signed."
"Oh, yeah...but I was in great luck...the artist was in town and I took it over to the art gallery and he signed it for me," I lied.

"Oh, cool" she responded.

That happened 18 years ago. She still doesn't know.
I've asked for Christmas cookies every year since then.
But I still haven't forgiven HER for costing me over $260 for my $12 Christmas present!


Wait until tomorrow's article when I tell you about a present a family member gave me that cost me even more!

Today I'm In Time Out

I may have bitten off more than I can chew this weekend.
Please forgive me as I take a day off.
Go Bengals. I hope I can pry an eye open to watch the game.

Kids Will Steal Your Heart

Great nephew Griffin is about to have a birthday. I can't decide if he'll be 4 years old or 22 but his birth certificate says he'll be 6...
Sometimes he acts so mature, like when he comforted ME when I couldn't find an engineer's striped cap (for ME) when we went to see Thomas the Train. He kept patting my elbow as we were walking to the car saying "I'm really sorry, Pegger....maybe we can find your cap somewhere else...it's going to be ok..want some ice cream?"

Yesterday I asked him if he would take care of me when he earned a "million, million, million dollars plus 2" (his words)...he replied with adult frankness, "No, but I think Mommy will"...he finally relented when I pursued the subject and fetched his tiny savings bank pig. He opened it up and gave me 10 cents that I was "TO USE ONLY FOR CHARITY".

Griffin's Mom, Annie was telling me about the day he was home from school sick. He asked her if he dialed the same phone number upstairs to call me as he did from the downstairs phone. He told her he wanted to tell me he loved me. When he called me, he said, "Pegger, I uh, just called to uh...er...I was wondering...do you want to take me to the putt-putt course today?" As I explained that it might be better to go another time since he was sick and it was 42 degrees out he interrupted by blurting out, "I love you"...and that's the only reason I called...well, that and the putt-putt thing..bye."

The other night we had a crew of friends of Griffin's parents over to play ping pong and other games in the lower level. I figured that Grif was bored because there were no kids his age to play with him. He asked for some white paper and a pen and he busied himself drawing and writing. Later, as everyone was getting ready to leave, Grif said I had something on my back. Sure enough, there was a paper that he had secretly taped on me. I quickly theorized that I would find the words "KICK ME" on it like I used to do as a practical joke (heck, I did it just last week to the mailman!)...

no..there were just a variety of sizes of the letter O scribbled all over this 8 1/2 x 11 sheet.
I said "Grif..those are great O's!"
He said, "You're silly..those are HUGS!"

I went to bed that night cradling my "hugs".

Today I Made $492

I received my monthly Time Warner bill and gasped as I realized how much I was spending on cable "stuff"!
I have 4 TV's connected to cable; 1 "land" phone line with unlimited long distance; and 5 computers running off a wireless cable connection.
I keep reading and hearing about Time Warner's competitor, Cincinnati Bell's latest offerings and I think to myself, "Self...let's save some money today"
Thanks heavens "self" agreed or I wouldn't have a subject to talk about.

I called Time Warner and started the conversation by telling them that I wanted to cancel my current TW service and switch to Cinci Bell, babbling (inventing from my wild imagination) that Cin Bell could save me $24/month, which was $288/year which is $2880 over 10 years.
Mr. Time Warner Guy looked up my account number and without any hesitation, he informed me of good news: "You qualify for a reduction of your bill." He then told me he could save me $41.10/month, which was $492/year which was $4920 over ten years. (I dislike it when they use my same sales-ploy to win me back)

I'm very happy that I feel like I earned an annual savings of $492..but then I think, "If I qualify for this NOW, why didn't they call ME before I contacted THEM, to inform me of my "Priority Customer Qualification"?"

Hmmmm. Me sniffs a skunk somewhere. Ah, nay...just good business practices, right?

A Name Is a Name Is a Name

Today a coupon magazine was delivered to my house. I was wondering about how some of the advertisers come up with their company names.
I, personally, love to see business names that actually reflect what the company is selling or providing as a service. When I look for any product, I want to utilize a company that mirrors their area of expertise through their name.
Examples: (you knew that I was going there didn't you?)

Channel #5 - I would think that product is a very small TV with one channel.
Chiquita - what an odd name for a company but I know they "go bananas" in Cincinnati...otherwise the name sounds like a small reptile.
100 Monkeys is a real title of a company.
I know they are in the field of computers but how would I know that by their name? I would think maybe they sell perfume or bananas before I would think they are software engineers.

Can you guess what kind of companies these are?
1) Walk This Way
Maybe a modeling agency? A shoe store? Nope, it's hair and nail shop. I never walk with my hair or nails, unless I let my fingers do the walking through the yellow pages.

2) America's Best Service I'm kinda hoping they may be an Army Training camp? What is the best service that America could provide? Meals to the needy? Job training? Child tutoring?
Nope..air duct cleaning.

3) Always Secure Maybe a classy diaper or femine protection product? A new deoderant pad? A breath mint?
Nope...Home security system

I do kinda like an adjective describing the company in the name so I'm either very confident of their service or, at the very least, I'm not confused:

A-1 Door Systems...good...I wouldn't want someone messing with my door who got called themselves D- Portals.

Airport Fast Park That's a better name than Parking So Slow That You Might Miss Your Plane

Gutterchamp (vs Gutter-loser)Although now that I think about it, I've never seen a televised Gutter sporting event...

Restaurants that are kinda cocky:
Authentic Mexican (Vs. the Italian knock-off taco)
W.G.Grinders has a great slogan - Anything else is half-baked!

Way out in the country you might drive by a restaurant that isn't used to advertising or elaborate marketing schemes. GOOD EATS
I like that...no doubt what they do and how they do it.

Then you have the company names that leave no question what service they provide.
This company was at the BACK of the coupon magazine....I mean, the VERY "END".....
Hemorrhoid Relief Center

I think maybe I spent way too much time coupon clipping today.

Here Come 'da Judge!

For those of you who know me, you probably don't know my spiritual side. I don't wear that part of me in public very often. My excuse is "that's how I grew up" (ugh! I can't stand that when others say that to me about their rationale for doing or not doing something!)
Recent well-publicized events about immorale activities of authority figures have given me pause to reflect on how I feel about the media circus regarding imperfections.
We are all exposed to circumstances every day where we want to be judge, jury and executioner. It's really tough to not be judgmental, isn't it? Look at all the "Judge shows" that are televised. Court judges rule the airways: traffic court, divorce court, neighbor-borrowed-my-toothbrush-and-never-returned-it court. And then in prime time TV land we have snotty little judges being rude to hard-working contestants on dance and singing shows.

Lately, headlines about various admirable people in positions of power and influence have shown us that we are all indeed, fragile, vulnerable, and quite fallible. We are people who make mistakes with various degrees of naughtiness every single day.
There hasn't been a day I've lived where I haven't made a pretty hefty goof, how about you?

Now, more than ever, it seems that the people who we most admire and sometimes want to emulate are making big-time boo-boos that are splashed all over the news.
Occasionally human nature causes us to make it ALL ABOUT US ~ maybe we think that we've been duped. ~ "I guess maybe I didn't know him very well since he was keeping this kind of secret", one might surmise. OR ~ "Maybe I shouldn't trust ANYONE if I can't trust my.....priest...my CEO...my senator...my local sheriff...my best friend." Yep. You can put ANYONE's name in that sentence because we all have screwed up to varying degrees. Why would those we love or people in authority be any different?

Have you ever heard someone react to a (supposed) enemy's demise with, "Great! I'm so glad that so-and-so has been knocked off his pedestal! I hope they lynch him!"
Ah, such words of kindness and love.

I remember coming out of church where 500 people had heard the same sermon about "love thy neighbor". I walked out of church, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.
When I reached my car, I found that someone had placed a hand-scrawled note on my windshild, lashing out a sermon of another kind ~ because they thought that I had parked too close to their vehicle.
Anyway, it kinda ruined the "glow" of the service for me a little.

"Judge not, lest ye be judged"..HA!
I've found myself feeling way to comfortable in that judge's robe lately.
Now I want to find myself in the forgiveness role a tad bit more.
I've been blessed throughout my life to have made errors in judgment and people have forgiven me. I've screwed up like a gold-medal winner of Olympic offenses, but been released without a blemish on my record.
Lucky me.

"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone."
(Whoa...I've had a barnyard load of stones that I keep throwing..what's up with that?")

Matt. 7:1 "Do not judge, or you too will be judged."
(Ah, come on...not ME! That's for OTHERS...right?)


Maybe someday I'll really understand some of those quotes and wear those ugly "judgy" robes a little less frequently.

The List of Mute Targets

I love the mute button on my TV remote. I will admit that I am still in the dark ages when it comes to using the latest editing features of TV land...using TIVO or DVR to escape annoying commercials and political ads.
But when a noise comes on the TV I don't appreciate, sure can find the trigger to.. MUTE....

Now, I'm not THAT much in the stone age where I can't read a newspaper or use the internet to research info on political candidates ~ or the sudsing action of the latest soap product.

This is the time of the year that I would really enjoy having a portable MUTE button that works on anything.
As touched upon earlier, the November airways are crammed with either mud-slinging candidates who, on one hand, talk the nasty at the opponent, and in the same ad, smile as he shows what a loving family man he is walking his daughter down the aisle at her wedding.
Will I vote for a guy because he is a Dad? MUTE..or that he drives a 1993 car?...or that he mows his own lawn? MUTE

Will I vote for someone who says nothing about what they stand FOR but slam their opponent viciously? MUTE

I love to answer the phone during dinner time to hear a chirpy voice diving right into why I should support issue #467...MUTE

When I go to the Doctor and the skinny 112 pound Beauty Queen nurse asks me to step on the scale....MUTE

On the occasion when my accountant calls to tell me my tax bill...MUTE

When the dentist tells you, I have good news and I have bad news..MUTE


But the real kicker is...when on Halloween, the tricksters come to the door, like:

The kid dressed like a sweet kitten with whiskers painted on her little face and she holds two bags...the size of leaf trash bags...and she looks up at you with the saddest brown eyes and says, "can I have some candy for my little brother who is too sick to come out tonight?"...and you want to dump the rest of what is left of your candy and your entire contents of your wallet into her bags...but then you see her Mom behind her...
with a designer "beggar bag".....



Double MUTE MUTE

WHAT? Please don't confuse me!

What "sign" are you? I remember that phrase was asked 1000 times when I was in college. I happen to be an Aquarius but one of my friends from Athens, Ohio who went to Slippery Rock had no clue about astrological signs....she got a huge laugh when she said, "Methodist".




Some signs can be confusing, distracting or...in these cases...kinda funny.

At a towing company:
"We don't charge an arm and a leg. We want tows."


On an electrician's truck
"Let us remove your shorts."

In a nonsmoking area:
"If we see smoke, we will assume you are on fire and take appropriate action."


At an optometrist's office:
"If you don't see what you're looking for, you've come to the right place."

On a taxidermist's window:
"We really know our stuff."


At the electric company:
"We would be de-lighted if you send in your bill. However, if you don't, you will be."

Inside a Bowling Alley:
"Please be quiet, we need to hear a pin drop."

Sign at the psychic's Hotline:
"Don't call us, we'll call you."

WANTED: Safe Return of Gigi

My friend, Nikki and her fiance, Lou, have the cutest little 5 year-old Westie pooch.
This spoiled canine has the nicest dispositon, rarely barks, never begs for food and is a joy to be around. Nikki allows her to accompany her to work over the river in Ft. Mitchell, where Gigi greets her owner's relexology clients and they adore her (and Nikki, too, for that matter).
Yesterday it was a chilling drizzly day, with the temperature hovering around 45 degrees. Nikki took Gigi on her usual 8 a.m. walk across the street from their 7th floor residence in a high rise facing the river in downtown Cincinnati. They had to cross a very busy road to reach the mile-long park on the river's edge. Nikki let Gigi off the leash to roam a bit when, without notice, she bolted like a rabbit with Nikki in hot pursuit. Unfortunately, the white dog was a blur like she was training for the Flying Westie Marathon.

Well, sadly, after hours of searching, calling Gigi's name, asking joggers and dog walkers for help, no Gigi. Nikki had called Lou and he left work and spent the rest of the day hunting for any trace of the missing pet. After 8 hours, he visited the local SPCA, hoping a kind stranger had turned her in. No luck.

I got a frantic call on my answering machine from Nikki around 3 p.m. I enlisted the help of my friend, Susan, and off we drove to aid in the search. It was miserable outside. Bone-chilling and raining. All we could do was think of this furry little innocent creature shivering cold, hungry, scared and possibly, hurt. We couldn't help but look with trepidation down the embankment toward the river, fearing that she had maybe lost her footing in her excited curiosity to explore. All kinds of maddening scenarios flicker across the mind's movie screen when you're desperately looking for one of God's vulnerable creatures.

It grew dark and we were losing hope. It had been over 10 hours now since Gigi started her exploring journey. We hated leaving the area and as we drove north in silent prayer, we were still looking for the missing "white spot" but feeling our hopes drain.
An hour after we got home we received a hysterically happy call from Nikki. She and Lou had returned from their search and had just entered their building. They were talking with the two front desk attendants when one of them noticed something on their security monitor. "There's a white dog at the front door!" ~ one of them shouted.
They raced to the building's entrance and there was Gigi ~ wagging her tail, dry and looking as good as she had the day before, after she had returned from her monthly grooming.

How did this dog survive 11 hours in the cold and rain and return on the heels of her owners' homecoming? How did she cross that very busy road and remain dry and clean?
Who knows? Gigi isn't talking.
But I DO know that there were a plethora of prayers sent in her name.....and....I'm a believer!
Thank you, Lord!

I think maybe Gigi is sporting a new collar/leash today.