Weathering Old Age

My brain must be getting really old or my eyesight has become desensitized when it comes to television weather maps. It seems like every other day these weather wienies add yet another band of rainbow color to their already confusing and too complex maps. I mean do I really need to know that if I drive North 500 feet it is going to be a half a degree cooler than whatever jungle zone I’m currently stewing in now?

This phenomena only seems to happen in the summer months because when it is winter, TV weather people just show maps with big bands of blue or white denoting ‘chilly nose-holes cold’ or ‘excruciating, blackened frozen-toes COLDER’ with snow. I never remember having these red dust devil thingys stuck all over a map or that Harry Potter lightning bolt symbol traveling up and down in a little line.

It is not like the TV ‘Weatherettes’ know for sure what is going to happen anyway - it is a ‘guesstimate’ remember? I have never seen a job like this that PAYS you to be wrong most of the time. How about you try your chances with those percentages serving food in a prison chow line? Or worse yet, what if Obstetricians, Proctologists, and Urologists made as equally poor assessments in their jobs as these goofy Weather-betters do? I think particularly for those professions, it is of critical importance to avoid mix-ups and KNOW EXACTLY what sized object is expected out of a which appropriately- sized orifice?

So give me back my plain old simple, understandable TV weather maps with a few curvy bumps in the middle, easy to read temperatures, and maybe a ‘happy sun’ up in the corner. Yes, you can save your rainbow color bands for tubs of cheap sherbet, Gay pride parades, or maybe some hippie mud festival in the rain. All this wacky weather talk and ranting is making me HOT. Gee, assuming my brain’s hypothalamus is happy, then I really am a crotchety old WEATHERED geezer!

Truly a Field of Dreams

While writing, I may have alluded to it a time or TWENTY, that I am kind of a big dude but I was never too handy at most sports. Fortunately my father was not concerned with it at all and my mother appreciated that I remained ‘fracture free’ my entire life. When we first made our trek to California somehow I magically found myself enrolled on a ‘C’ little league team.

Now needless to say since ‘C’ team says it all, I was not very good nor did I eventually blossom into a great baseball player. In fact a couple of years later they had tryouts in 7th grade for a baseball team and I went up to bat and crushed a home run on the first pitch. Yes I got picked FIRST which had never happened before in my life but sadly, I never got a significant hit again for the rest of the games.

Now my wife on the other hand in this same era was a regular softball pitching rock star though I did not know her at the time. If there had been opportunities then as there are today, no doubt my wife would have planned to play ball in college and beyond. So what do I see in the news this week but a 13 year old little league pitcher named Chelsea Baker who has two perfect games and has never lost a start in 4 years. The kid is a genuine ‘phenom’ with a mean knuckleball and a 65 mile per hour fast pitch that humbles all takers in the 'all boys' (save 1) baseball league.

Now I know the road only gets tougher from here on out for this kid regardless of the fact that she is a girl in a ‘guys’ game. Especially for young pitchers, it takes an amazing toll on the shoulder and elbow to throw heat like Baker’s through high school and on into college. But is it not an amazing dream to think that someday a young girl like Chelsea Baker, MAY soon get the opportunity for a second look by a Major League Baseball team? Despite the difficulties and the 'coke bottle thick' glass ceiling, ultimately the game is all about performance and winning. If the kid can keep it up, why wouldn’t a major baseball team give her a shot when she’s ready? I have linked up a story HERE profiling the young hurler’s building fame so you can keep your eye on her progress over the next few years. This is one ‘Baker’ whose skill might make her some tasty 'bread' someday, but it will happen in a field of dreams, far beyond the kitchen!

Hot - Cold - Hot - Chile

When the weather turns hot and sticky, most of my energy is dedicated to running between an air conditioned car, house, or place of business. Yes I have perfected the ‘dart and sweat’ method like a seasoned prison escapee on the lamb, with mint jelly and just a hint of rosemary. As a thrifty sort that I am, I generally don’t mind the heat too much as long as I don’t HAVE to pay nature’s gas or fuel oil bill.

Now obviously I DO have to fork out truck loads of cash to try and cool off my family of froot loops and the air inside this cereal box we call home. I do it begrudgingly since I generally believe that suffering is good for the constitution; and moreover for the patriotic ‘green energy’ dweebs, because a cheap electric BILL is always right!

Most of the time nobody complains since I have installed fans in nearly every room of the house along with legions of Japanese Geisha to flap them ‘round the clock’. Obviously by name alone, I would have preferred to use historical Chinese ‘Coolies’ instead, but none were available. Clearly these days, the descendants of Central Asia prefer to knock off DVD’s and designer handbags to help plant a ‘Golden Spike’ in the heart of America’s myopic consumer economy.

Whew, I don’t know if it is all of this fiery commentary or just the weather, but it’s clear I am getting hot under the collar and in need of a jigger of antifreeze. I need to relax and quick. All this frosty talk is making me ‘snappy’ but that may be that I’m getting hungry too? With this weather and mood, I’m not sure if I want to eat something ‘hot’, ‘cold’, or how about a ‘forget all your troubles’ "liquid-lunch" instead? By golly I think I’ve got it; like the oil, I’ll have all '3 in 1' –a cup of “CHILLY”!

I’m Often a Softy

I am actually not much of a word snob though I do try to watch my P’s and Q’s when it comes to spelling and the proper use of language. My folks have always been big readers and have great respect for the written word, so I think it is what you would call a family trait, or CURSE … I’m not sure which? If I send a fast e-mail or scribble out a Post-It note to someone and I inadvertently misspell a word, or make some other grammatical ‘faux pas’, I will literally CRINGE at the thought for days after.

Honestly it is not an ‘ego’ thing since most people who know me, do not have extraordinarily high language expectations from a bonafide ‘Ya Ya’, with the I.Q. of a saltine anyway. You see just there, I am not above making up my own words (actually my father’s word), crafting glorious run-on sentences, or using non-standard English to make a point even if obscure. It’s just that when it comes to communication, I DO CARE to get it right someday, as opposed to my lack of mastery of truly difficult things like ‘loading a dishwasher’, ‘working an ATM’, or ‘setting an alarm clock’.

So what sparked all this verbal dysentery (my 8th grade science teacher’s pithy assessment of my gift for relentless self-expression) was simply the word ‘OFTEN’. When I was young, I was taught to say this word with a silent ‘T’, therefore the pronunciation is the soft-sounding “ AUFF-EN”. As I have aged and dried up, like old cheese and watered-down wine , it appears that more and more people are pronouncing this word with the hard ‘T’ sound as “AUFF – TEN”. Now you may say ‘who cares’, but to a ‘melon-head’ of my ilk – this is of great importance indeed.

I mean for wordsmiths, this is on the level of ‘big deals’ that equates to religious folks, debating that Jesus just knew Mary Magdalene as the ‘Apostles of Apostles’, or the ‘J-man’ ‘KNEW’ Mary after one too many ‘goat-sacks’ of Gallo. Hey I know pronouncing ‘Often’ correctly won’t prove I’m a Saint or a trollop, but it sure will change how I pronounce other verby words like ‘Listen’ ‘Unfasten’, ‘Hasten’, &‘Soften’. Hmmm, suddenly I’m flushed and feeling a little spent. if I smoked, I think I just earned a cigarette? Guess that clears that up – I’m definitely a ‘soft-T’ Trollop.

A Dog’s Life Graduation

You know that concept where you need to ‘walk in somebody’s shoes to better understand their situation’ – is that really necessary? On rare occasions (if I can get away with it), whenever I slip on someone else’s shoes at a fine Japanese restaurant, I usually just get blisters. Though I never gain useful insight into the diner’s real problems, I have learned that somebody else's high heels are a not fun to run in.

I was driving home and I noticed a fire hydrant painted in a very attractive shade of yellow with a tad darker reflective yellow caps . Gee no wonder dogs love these things, as that unique hydrant made even me want to pull over and inspect it thoroughly. It looks nothing like your typical street light stanchion, tree, or telephone pole, so naturally all the coolest dogs in town want to hang out at this hip hydrant.

Yep, that fire plug looks like some kind of knobbed alien land mine with its domed shaped exterior and bolt-ridden skin. How many things in nature are domed except for turtles and THAT big hunk of granite in Yosemite, and even it is only half-domed? From a dog’s perspective, nearly everything which helps make your ‘mark’ in society, is either an endlessly tall cylinder, or some un-washed rectangle like a sign, building, or a hobo asleep in a cardboard box.

So don’t make our four-legged friends chase their tails any longer. Just spend a few minutes like I did and snoop around to get to know the way doggy’s think, act, and REALLY smell. That way the next time you ‘walk IN their paws’ you’ll know that ‘yelp’ will be one of joy instead of blinding pain. You’ll learn better to trust and appreciate your dog’s nasal prowess, and know when to seat ‘Grammy’ on the plastic covered couch. Yep, when your pup gives you the high-sign that it’s the right-time for a new set of Depends, you’ll know that the ‘dog-bond’ is nearly complete. Once you have successfully mastered your inner-doggy, graduation day always takes place with a ceremonial off-leash walk to your dog’s favorite hydrant watering hole - the famous domed classic, “Old Yeller”.