How Many? How Long?

September 30, 2006 - As of today, the US Department of Defense has confirmed 2,700 American service members who have died since the start of the Iraq war.

Help Save Second Base

The bar to which we repair after Friday golf has a shaded, misted patio that subjects its inhabitants to about ninety percent less cigarette smoke than being indoors.  We played Thursday and Friday this week, but Thursday, afterwards, went for our repast of an adult beverage and some hot wings, and for me, at least, to again regale the others over my spectacular shot making skills, which sometimes even result in the ball staying inbounds.

As we came through the doors to the patio we were met with the specter of pink balloons bobbing above each table, pink flowers in vases on the tables and little bowls of pink Hershey kisses on the tables.  Something wasn't right.  Lots of wimmens in T shirts that said "Every step makes a difference".  A sallow complected yoot with an acoustic guitar, frowning in the corner.  A table with pink teddy bears.  I know we weren't expected until tomorrow, but what the hey?  This is our bar and there be wimmens at our table.  Like any heterosexual men in the same situation, we turned to beat a hasty retreat.

"Wait!!  Don't go!"  Three, maybe four of them, I don't know, I was frightened as they swarmed at us, waving pink bras that had been ingeniously sewn into little - a couple of them not so little - purses.  "This is for people who have breasts, who used to have breasts, who know people who have breasts, and for people who like people with breasts!  Don't you guys fall into one of those categories?" 

We confessed that we were, in fact, big fans. 

"Well come on in, join the raffle, sponsor me (no, me!  no, me!!!) in the big walkathon!!"  What else could we do?  G's sister-in-law had just the week earlier had a double mastectomy, and that's not usually elective surgery.  So we sat, had a couple laughs, sponsored a few miles, and left, glad for people like these, and for the people we get to go home to.

Exercise - WS Merwin

Exercise

First forget what time it is
for an hour
do it regularly every day

then forget what day of the week it is
do this regularly for a week
then forget what country you are in
and practice doing it in company
for a week
then do them together
for a week
with as few breaks as possible

follow these by forgetting how to add
or to subtract
it makes no difference
you can change them around
after a week
both will help you later
to forget how to count

forget how to count
starting with your own age
starting with how to count backward
starting with even numbers
starting with Roman numerals
starting with fractions of Roman numerals
starting with the old calendar
going on to the old alphabet
going on to the alphabet
until everything is continuous again

go on to forgetting elements
starting with water
proceeding to earth
rising in fire

forget fire

Coconut

Bear with me I
want to tell you
something about
happiness
it's hard to get at
but the thing is
I wasn't looking
I was looking
somewhere else
when my son found it
in the fruit section
and came running
holding it out
in his small hands
asking me what
it was and could we
keep it it only
cost 99 cents
hairy and brown
hard as a rock
and something swishing
around inside
and what on earth
and where on earth
and this was happiness
this little ball
of interest beating
inside his chest
this interestedness
beaming out
from his face pleading
happiness
and because I wasn't
happy I said
to put it back
because I didn't want it
because we didn't need it
and because he was happy
he started to cry
right there in aisle
five so when we
got home we
put it in the middle
of the kitchen table
and sat on either
side of it and began
to consider how
to get inside of it

-Paul Hostovsky

New Best Friend

Youngest daughter's former boss at her former employer moved into the 'hood a few months ago.  She invited him over for one of our famous pool parties and he fit right in with our particular brand of craziness.

E's passion is his sand rail or dune buggy, whatever you want to call it.  His great passion.  This thing ("Baby") is wider than an H1 Hummer, with a Porsche 280 horsepower rear-mounted engine and 35 " wheels.  It's a monster. 

A couple times he'd driven this beast over for me to ogle, but when he came by this morning he announced that it was now street legal and he had just gotten the skid plate attached and didn't I think I ought to get a hat on before strapping myself into the full body harness?  I did, clawed my way through the rollbars and into the cage, and I got the harness right on the second try.  It's an elaborate congregation of webbing that comes up from below a surprisingly comfortable seat, between your legs, two more over both shoulders, one from each side at your waist, and they all latch together at your lower abdomen.  Then you cinch down the straps and baby you ain't falling out of that chair regardless.

We're just two miles from the rez, so we headed down there and for about an hour and a half aired that baby out.  Never got all four off the ground at one time, but got close.  Got high centered once and had to rock and heave and push, but that big devil can fly.  With such a wide stance and the enormous shocks on the enormous wheels, and all that power, he'd head right for a three or four foot ditch and boom, we're over it.  What fun.

Everybody Thinks I'm Paranoid

We have two land lines to the house.  We have caller id and distinctive ring tones for long distance and faxes coming in.

Two or three times each week for the past month, at least, either of the lines rings with the long distance cadence.  The caller id screen says "Out of Area."  If I just pick up the phone and say nothing, nothing seems to happen.  But as soon as I say "Hello" the exact same male voice says the exact same thing the exact same way: "Oh, I'm sorry,  I must have the wrong number."  Then the line goes dead.

It's obviously a recording, but why does it keep happening over and over?  Is it some form of automated phishing for fax numbers?  If so, why doesn't it default out when it gets a voice?  What business model keeps calling the same number and gets the same result, over and over and over?

This wouldn't have anything to do my my occasional good natured ribbing of a moronic incompetent former Governor of Texas, would it?

Back On That Lumpy Couch

A woman, standing nude, looks in the bedroom mirror and says to her husband, "I feel horrible, I look fat and ugly. Be a sweetie and pay me a compliment."

 

The husband replies, "Your eyesight's damn near perfect."

Banking Follies

Between the two of us we have five business accounts, plus our personal checking, savings and home equity with Bank of America.  I am no stranger, then, to any of the bank's employees, even though they turn some of them over pretty quick.  I have my favorites, Tara, Rajneesh, Lindsey, women that you can tell have something going on in there - the eyes are the windows to the soul.

But B of A has this really annoying campaign to "personalize" the banking experience.  This means that even if you've been in the line earlier in the day, the newbies introduce themselves, all sparkly, perky, as if they had such an effervescent personality they just are unable to keep it pent up any longer. and if that's not enough, they feel they have to inquire as to your general gemutlichkeit of the day, how it's going, your opinion of the weather (as if we have weather) and occasionally, what your future portends.

Yesterday I was in no mood.  My tellers were busy, and I didn't want to wait, I allowed myself to be shunted to a rookie.  I was wearing my Suns ball cap, so Jamey, "Hi!! I'm Jamey!  How may I assist you today?!" seemingly at the very top of her game, asks "So!  Do you watch the Suns a lot?!!"  "yeah"  "Did you see that Steve Nash cut all his hair off?!!"  "yeah"  Then came the one I was waiting for:  "So!!  Any big plans for the weekend?!!" 

Now I'm all smiles:  "Nothing I can't change.  What did you have in mind?"

Have you seen on the Nature programs how an octopus can change its color and shading like twenty times a second?  This poor young thang was about to sprout tentacles.  The molten color just erupted like lava up her shapely neck past her comely chin, till her cheekbones were awash.  She took half a step backwards, blinking furiously, and then Tara leaned over from the adjacent window.  "That's Lyle"  she said.

It's Not "Trouble With Her R's"

If I get one wish today, it's that Isabella not be able to pronounce her L's nor her R's until she's well into her twenties.

I picket the Maggots up yesterday, from The School That Makes Little Kids Stand Out In The Direct Sun Until Their Parents Come For Them.  Gabe got another SmileyFace from his teacher, tacit and tactile approval of his classroom conduct, and was eager to get home, get his homework done and jump on that new LegoLand video game  (Homework Assignment: "Write seven funny sentences using today's spelling words" One of the words is Patriot: 

"Patriot missles supplied by the US have killed many thousands in the mid-east."  LET HIM MAKE UP HIS OWN SENTENCES FROM NOW ON, GRAMPA!!!

Bella is concerned about recent familial developments.  "Gampa, is Nana still sick in huh tummy?"  Not nearly so bad today, sweetie, in fact she's meeting us over at your house.  "Is she still bowfing?"  Not even once today, honey, just yesterday and during the night.  "Well, if she half to bowf at ow house, you tell huh it okay to bowf in the toiwet, but she shouldn't bowf in the popcohn bowl like mommy did."

Preparations Continue

The reservations are made, the caviling begun.

 

Blythe CC - "Monday afternoon?  Oh, just come on in.  You'll prolly be the only ones on the course." 

 

Emerald Canyon GC - "For you Mr Swenson, you can make reservations any time.  Nine o'clock on Tuesday?  Of course!  No problem!  We look forward to seeing you once again shatter the course record, you hot blooded, good looking Scandinavian long hitting parmeister."  (Obviously, they know me there)

 

Blue Water Resort & Casino - "It looks like there was a note in your file Mr Swenson, but since it's gone now,  I guess it's ok to book two rooms for you so long as it's just one night.  Say, that Mohr person isn't going to be with you, is he?  I don't think the restraining order has expired."

 

EPo sounding contrite, complaining about physical damage at the hands of a seventy-some year old and the aforementioned Mohr during the now fabled Flagstaff outing.  Kwaims his widdow ahmie huts.  All the symptoms of "needing strokes" to be able to compete "on a level playing field."  Stroke this, laddie.

The Golf Outing; Phase I - Taunting & Baiting

Me:  Here's how I see it:  Wednesday, Sept 27th, between 8 and 9 we head west on the 10 to the sorry burg yclept Blythe, where there is a surprisingly nice golf course.  I kick everyone's butt for eighteen straight holes after which we drive up river to Parker to while away the evening at the dollar blackjack tables at the Blue Water Resort & Casino, where there is also a dandy little restaurant.  Thursday morning we play <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Emerald Canyon<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

 

Emerald Canyon Golf Course Pictures, Pictures of Emerald Canyon Golf Course, Parker, AZ : Reviews of Emerald Canyon Golf Cour.

 

where my domination continues unabated.  We're done by early afternoon, back on the freeway and your sorry butts and now feather-light wallets are back in your sweeties' arms by four pm.  (This has the additional benefit of Mohr being able to still get his eight hours in at the office on Thursday.)  Who's in?

 

LM:  I am in but I forecast a considerably different result

 

Me:  The foursome is set, the quibbling as to who will do what to whom has only just begun.  I will try to refrain from fueling that particular fire for the purpose of clarity in this missive.  We'll head west from Thistle Landing twixt 8:15 and 8:30 on the 18th, play the Blythe Country Club early afternoonish.  Afterwards, we'll tradfat north along the California side of the Colorado river, checking in to the Blue Water Resort & Casino for rest, repast and (tribal) remuneration.  Tuesday morning, an earlyish 18 at Emerald Canyon where my total domination continues unabated (- sorry, just couldn't help it).

 

EP:  I'm in for most of that stuff but I'm definitely not committing to "Tradfatting" north until you tell me what that means.  You may continue your domination of whatever event, person, or scenario which you might conjure as long as you bring a very large sack of that funny money to pay what will surely be an enormous debt.  Looking forward to stacking and rolling those Sacagaweas and Susan B. Anthonys.  How about you taking my black Wing, Larry his Fat Boy, and I ride my sparkley new Gold Wing and Gregg follows as best he can with the clubs? 

 

Me:  If you and Mohr want to two-wheel it, I think that's great and will facilitate it in every way.  I absolutely appreciate the offer to let me use your ancient-yet-serviceable, almost-three hundred-grand-on-it bike, but I'm going to plant my ample ass in the Suburban, or, if you guys ride, Gregg and I will take the Lexus.  I think you've met Gregg - maybe long ago when we played poker at my place?  Regardless, you'll like him.  He's almost as cynical and patently offensive as you and Mohr.  As Mohr, anyway.

Labor Day

To be of use

The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

-Marge Piercy

Camping

When We Sold the Tent

When we sold the tent
we threw in the Grand Canyon
with its shawl of pines,
lap full of cones and chipmunks
and crooked seams of river.

We let them have the
parched white moonscapes of Utah,
and Colorado's
magnificat of flowers
sunbursting hill after hill.

Long gentle stretches
of Wyoming, rain outside
some sad Idaho
town where the children, giddy
with strange places, clowned all night.

Eyes like small veiled moons
circling our single light, sleek
shadows with pawprints,
all went with the outfit; and
youth, a river of campfires.