Category Archives: I Like It

Things to consider

A Puppy Chow Night

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The Westminster Dog Show is packing ’em in to Madison Square Garden tonight for the Best of Show finale. Counting this year’s 2500 competitors, over 300,000 dogs have taken part since the first show in 1877.

It stands as the second longest continuously held sporting event in America, right behind the Kentucky Derby. Even New York pays attention, the tower lights on the top of the Empire State Building are purple and gold, official Westminster colors.  

If your dog pines for a chance at the big time, give him a front row seat when they broadcast the finish tonight. In case you think age is a factor — the oldest Best of Show Dog was Grinchy Glee; he was 10, the youngest was Rough Collie at 9 months.

Hang this poster in his doghouse to keep him motivated for the long road ahead. A portion of the proceeds goes to support the Animal Medical Center in New York.

Break-through Minor

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I am at a significant personal break-through; I do not expect grand and spontaneous gestures on Valentine’s Day. And ever since, I am a whole lot happier. What a strange quirk to believe that love is best demonstrated when it catches me off guard.

I talk about Valentine’s Day way before it rolls around.

And I know now that repetition is directly correlated to making sure that the day will come and go with at least a modicum of celebration.

Another sign of having arrived is the part about asking for what I want.

Not that there is anything wrong with a Farberware double boiler but there are few things more satisfying than a bouquet of bright flowers and a card I can save for a while.  

(He gets a slab of mint chocolate fudge he can eat all by himself and a card with a cat on it waiting for him to come home. February 14 is just a Monday to him. )

HVD where ever you are.

(UNICEF card at left.)

Steampunk

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I learned so much this morning thanks to Wikipedia and You Tube. It all started when I was reading the San Antonio sunday paper and saw Office Time Waster. It’s a blog by Richard Marini who considers himself a sometime writer and a full-time time waster. Good credentials, I thought.

His archives show that he enjoys videos; he fancies effective commercials, obscure musicians and impressive but useless skills. He described “Eye of the Storm” as a richly detailed short film with a steampunk vibe. Take a look.

Steampunk is a sub genre of science fiction that came of age in the late eighties and nineties. It is a throwback to early sci-fi writers Jules Verne and H.G. Wells whose specialities were imagining travel through — space, water, air — with steam-powered inventions. 

Equally fascinating to me is the related video that showed how the film was made.

Guest Blogger

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In the end, I would like to write as fresh and honest as say — a third grader. And I have an example to show you thanks to my sister who forwarded this e-mail pass-along. You may have already seen it, if not, you’re in for a treat. I only wish I knew who deserves the credit. (If it is some adult, I don’t want to know.)

In January, a teacher asked her third graders to tell how they spent their holiday away from school. One child wrote:

We always used to spend the holidays with Grandma and Grandpa. They used to live in a big brick house, but Grandpa got retarded and they moved to Arizona .

Now they live in a tin box and have rocks painted green to look like grass. They ride around on their bicycles, and wear name tags, because they don’t know who they are anymore. They go to a building called a wreck center, but they must have got it fixed because it is all okay now, they do exercises there, but they don’t do them very well.There is a swimming pool too, but they all jump up and down in it with hats on.

At their gate, there is a doll house with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so nobody can escape. Sometimes they sneak out, and go cruising in their golf carts.

Nobody there cooks, they just eat out. And, they eat the same thing every night – early birds. Some of the people can’t get out past the man in the doll house. The ones who do get out, bring food back to the wrecked center for pot luck.

My Grandma says that Grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and, says I should work hard so I can be retarded someday too. When I earn my retardment, I want to be the man in the doll house. Then I will let people out, so they can visit their grandchildren.

Is it just Me?

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Whenever my mother said, “Far be it for me to say anything about …” You knew she felt just the opposite; and sure enough, she’d launch into talking about someone or something like a dog.

“Far be it for me…” I heard myself say to Sig this morning, “to talk about someone’s idiosyncracies but that letter to Dear Ann is stupid.” Though he is as interested in the topic as in hearing how to decorate with plaids, he arranges his face to resemble attentive.

So, this person writes to ask,”How long should I keep cards I’ve gotten for holidays, birthdays and so on?” Her dilemma comes from feeling guilty about throwing cards away when she knows her friends have spent time and money picking them out just for her. 

I continue, “Not only is the question stupid, the answer is baaad.” She is told to gather up her cards and take them to a school or senior citizen home to recycle into crafts. A mild warning was stuck on for good measure: cut out any addresses, both yours and the senders before you drop them off. 

“OMG, so maybe the lady has hoarding tendencies, but who says she is a dummy? Someone is getting paid for this drivel!”  

“Hmm” Sig says, “Keeps them out of the landfill for a while longer.” I look at him and realize that he will never understand that dissing only works when there are two or more players. It’s kinda like the tango.

Too Good 2B True?

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I met Adrianne in the Athletic Club in Corpus Christie when I wanted a temporary pass. In her office I found myself face to face with two framed photos of her in full white bridal regalia. In one of the photos, she was near as I could see 100 lbs heavier than in the other. 

She saw me look at the photos and said, “I didn’t get married again, the second picture is Halloween. A party. I went as a bride.”

I said, “Oh “–she interrupted and flailed her hands in the air, “I just have to tell people I didn’t get married again. I have only been married one time.” Well, I had not been thinking one whit about her wedding backstory. I was actually thinking, wow — this club sure has been good to you!   

So anyway we chat, as you do with someone who is trying to sell you something and you stay cordial ’cause you want the best price. It’s this and that. I’m staying in Port Aransas. Blah, blah. blah. Oh, yeah there is a great candy store there. I tune back in.

“It is so good they just call it Good.”

“Really?”

“You take one bite.” Adrienne pretended to eat.  “And after you eat it,” here she looks up at the ceiling, “all you can say is that was so Good.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head with a look of satisfaction.

Well what else could I do? It’s  a place called Winton’s. Good is caramel nut made fresh daily with whipped cream and butter and sold by the 1/2 pound.  It’s so smooth it won’t stick to your teeth. Oh yeah, did I mention — they ship to your door.

Very large but short

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A liquor distributor’s truck is pulled up outside a restaurant and the ad on the side says,  

If you are not completely satisfied. Send it back.

We’ll drink it.

Ha, ha. That shows panache, I thought. Later I decide to check out Jim Beam’s web site and see what they had going on for classic cocktails. Interestingly enough I had to put in  my birthdate before I could enter the site. What exactly is that all about?  

“Well, your honor — the birthdate she entered said she was well past the legal drinking age. We submit she alone is responsible for her actions.” Or maybe it’s a self-monitoring thing. “Oh, here I am at a web site that requires my birth date. I could lie — but then, how could I live with myself?”

A third thought, “Hey Gordy, this has just the look we are going for, socially conscious, highly responsible, a business that Cares. You got those birth dates on auto delete?”

Oh sure, there are a lot more redeeming things to write about –but wait, try this for your next cocktail party. (Don’t worry, I used my birth date.)

Jim Beam Black on the Rocks: Put a lot of ice in a, preferably, very large but short glass, then pour in 1 – 2 parts Jim Beam Black to cover some of the ice.

Iceman Cometh

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Unless your home zip code is in the 96800 series, it is extraordinarily difficult to feel superior about winter weather in southern Texas. But today a brief whiff of “Really?” was in the air. 

It started Thursday night when a newscaster interrupted Gray’s Anatomy to warn us citizens of ominous weather conditions. People were asked to delay running appliances such as dishwashers or washer/dryer combos. With everyone turning up furnaces, the grid was in danger of causing brown-outs.  

Overnight the area did end up with a respectable ice storm which left a quarter-inch glaze on every uncovered surface. But my goodness, the bridges were closed, streets were deserted, businesses were shuttered, and schools declared, “A Snow Day.”

By Friday noon, the city had begun to shrug its shoulders. Within an hour the ice was a memory. The weather story was the local paper’s major lead this morning. To be sure the weather service was calling it “quite possibly the most significant ice storm in Corpus Christie history.” 

The parks were full of deliriously looking kids sliding on the ice-covered grass while parents hovered nearby. A long-legged girl careened on one leg on her boogie board and a bundled-up toddler with a huge grin scooted down the slightest of hills with his dad.

It was pitiful. I felt like calling someone to send in some snow. Couple hours later, it is 65. So never mind.

First Friday

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It is very cold and droopy in Port Aransas. No one delivered the newspapers to the island this morning. The bridge to and from Corpus Christie is closed til further notice. The sound of morning tv drifts throughout the complex accompanied by the soft steady sound of freezing rain hitting the pavement and bouncing off the palms.

Today is made for mindless tv, a second pot of coffee and Pepperridge Farm’s Gingerman cookies, the kind with the chunky sugar on the top. Today is made for a bubble bath and a manicure and practicing eye make-up. Today is made for creative cooking with chicken, mushrooms and white wine. Today is made for reading new magazines and watching decorator shows.

I have no idea what Sig is going to do all day.