The Differnce Between Men and Women? Psshhht.

Men usually get a bad rap. I will admit, that sometimes, we deserve it. But there are times when women use this “bad rap” deal to their advantage.

Such was the case tonight.

We were watching TV. A commercial for Fairly Legal, the show on USA staring Sarah Shahi, came on.

My wife says: “I hater her”

My response?: “Why, because she is this big?” (making a tiny circle with my two hands)

Her response?” “Mhm”

I said: “what you need to understand is that there are a lot of guys who would climb on that. But there are plenty who wouldn’t for fear of hurting her, or getting hurt.”

Hey, don’t judge me, I was trying to make my wife feel better. I think she looks great. She looks like a WOMAN. She doesn’t look like an adolescent boy. She has curves. She is beautiful. She is WOMAN (and she frequently roars).

This is where men get in trouble. First, I should have just kept my mouth shut. I should have known better. I mean come ON, I’ve been married for almost 23 years!  I’ve learned a thing or two. Or three. But my only defense in opening my stupid trap is that.. well I was tired. The brain was not functioning. The lights were on, but no one was home. Someone stole a few crayons from my box. You know, I spoke without THINKING.

So of course, being a woman, she had to say SOMETHING.

Now she could have gone off one me. A lot of women might have. I might have had awkward questions like, “Then why do you like that show so much”. Or, “you only say that because you know that I know you think she is hot”. Or any other number of questions or accusations. Not to mention she had to go and write about it on her blog: The Difference Between Men and Women

Yeah, I’m man enough to admit that the actress in this show is attractive. But truthfully, she happens to be painfully thin. Attractive, but hey, so what?

Now before you women who might be reading this climb all over me, let me tell you the rest of the story.

My wife turned to me, and said: “You know, this is the difference between men and women. Men look at that and think about climbing on top of her and women look at that and think how much easier it would be to shop” (Obviously meaning if they were as thin as the actress).

Then not two minutes later, previews for next’s week White Collar came on and the Actor who plays Alcide on True Blood is going to quest staring. The actors name is Joe Manganiello. Apparently, a lot of women think he is hot.

My wife? She sighs in pleasure and says “that is one fine piece of real estate.”

So why do men get the bad rap I ask?  No justice I tell ya. None.

My Wife and The Food Network



Being a man, I obviously do that annoying thing (at least as far as women are concerned) of channel surfing on the TV.  Because I do it, I knew there was this channel called The Food Network, but I had never checked it out. I mean why would I? I figured it was filed with shows about cooking, most of it fancy high dollar restaurant quality meals. Well, I never get to eat at places like that. You know, the restaurants that have names for courses that sound like a foreign language (or IS a foreign language) and where you are forced to eat ridiculously small portions in a tie.

A TIE for sweet heaven’s sake.

So my man-dar (you know, my male radar) would go off in the register of “Snotty Fine Cooking for the Rich” and I skipped over that channel as fast as possible.

Also being a man, I am not picky about food. If it’s food I can eat without indigestion or an allergic reaction, and if you put it in front of me, it gets eaten with a smile. Hey, I’m just grateful my wife will cook for me.  And yes ladies, before you ask, I HAVE been known to cook. I’m not that bad. I can even boil water. With salt in it. I make a mean gumbo and I love making Mexican Corn Bread. Nothing fancy mind you, I’m a man after all and I kinda fall into that standard of meat and potatoes kind of guy.

Also, because I’m a man, my home is my castle. I’m not a harsh king, even letting my daughter take over the TV to play her playstation, and I even let my wife watch some questionable content that sets of my man-dar. You know, chick flicks, shows with men who all the women swoon over, and try to ignore her sighs of pleasure over the likes of Gerard Butler.

But there are still moments when it’s football, hockey, science-fiction blasting movies, action movies, comedies, documentaries, and other content that most men watch.

Lately though, there has been a bit of an insurrection in my castle.

It all started the day I came home from work, walked in, and didn’t even get a hello from my lovely wife. Why? She was staring in rapt fascination at the TV. So naturally, I looked at the TV to see what she was looking at, figuring it was Gerard Butler again. But no. It was…. The Food Network.

My first response was to scream in horror and ask her what she thought she was doing. But she was IGNORING ME. Again, I’m a fairly nice king in my castle so I muttered under my breath and moved on. Things to do you know. After all, whatever she was watching would go off eventually, and then when I finished what I was doing, I figured we could catch some classic we had seen before. Like the Fifth Element or something (that movie seems to be on every other day). But to my surprise, my wife CONTINUED watching The Food Network. All night long. My curiosity got the best of me so I figured I better check into what she was watching. I didn’t want her getting any snotty food ideas. She was watching some show called Chopped. In it, chefs get a basket of weird ingredients (most that I have never even HEARD of) and had to make a dish with it. I immediately saw how challenging it was and it pleased my man-dar enough for me to watch it and I had to admit later, it was actually not that bad.

So my wife now had a fascination with this show. Not so bad right?  Oh, but that wasn’t all. Things quickly got out of control. She moved on to other Food Network shows. Like The Great Food Truck Race and Restaurant Impossible. And a few more as well. She stayed up late, and watched it during the day. It was all Food Network, all the time.

Football? Nope.

Hockey? Nope.

Action flicks? Nope.

Butwhat really made me realize there might be a problem was when on one Sunday evening, realizing one of her Food Network shows came on at the same time as Game of Thrones (something we both really enjoy), she asked me to DVR her Food Network program. When I did, I noticed the hard drive on it was almost full. I was quite surprised because the week before there was only one or two shows on it. So I naturally scrolled though the listings on the DVR, only to discover it was full and I mean FULL of recorded Food Network shows. She had been recording these shows ALL WEEKEND LONG.

Then she went and asked my parents for a food processor for Christmas, and now, well, you can’t even imagine. The other night she  made chicken meatballs with spinach pesto linguine. Good? Yes. But not the usual fare coming from our kitchen.

That was probably the point when I realized my wife had a problem. An addiction, to The Food Network Channel.  Anyone know of any 12 step programs for it? I mean really, I need to get my TV back sometime soon. The Super Bowl is fast approaching.

I’ve got an idea about Mobile Devices.



My wife likes to tell me that I’m a techno nerd. I would deny it if I could.  Oh wait, this is my blog, so I CAN deny it.  I’m not a techno nerd.  I just appreciate good hardware.

Now that we have that handled, I wanted to share a few thoughts on some technology that apparently has become so crucial that we can no longer live without it.

I’m talking about cell phones of course.

Yeah, there have been lots of posts about cell phones.  It used to be that people complained about how rude it was for those who couldn’t shut their mouths walking around everywhere talking on their cell phones loudly.  Now, it seems that people are usually walking around texting everyone, and running into things.  If they aren’t texting, ther’re walking around updating their facebook status, or sharing with the world where they are by “checking in”.

Although I’ve done this all, a few times at least, the fact remains that the device you are walking around with is a cell phone.  With the emphasis on PHONE.  You know, that thing that used to hang on the walls of our kitchen, had a round dial, and you used it to call your family and friends? 

I fondly remember the days of getting in trouble for listening in on my sister’s conversations with her boyfriends, or getting yelled at for spending to much time on the phone.  Why?  Because there was no such thing as call waiting.  You may not remember this, but if you were on your phone, and someone tried to call you, you would get a “busy signal”.  Busy signals caused a lot of frustration, especially when you really needed to contact someone with important news.  Like needing to be bailed out of jail.  Thankfully, this has never happened to me.  Or to spread gossip about family or friends.  You know, Very Important News Stuff.

Because “busy signals” were so frustrating, the phone companies, who were viewed on the same level as satan, because of all their fees and hard to read bills, came up with a cool idea.  Call waiting.  This was a feature that allowed someone to call you while you were on the phone and instead of a “busy signal”, they would hear the familiar ringing like they weren’t on the phone. Of course, everyone had to have call waiting.  And of course, people being people, they simply ignored the other person calling, which lead to more aggravation.

So someone somewhere got the idea that we just didn’t have enough time to talk on the phone because hey, we work all day long, run errands on the weekend, and basically, didn’t spend enough time at our homes to answer the phone, and hear all the gossip.  So that person invented a device called a cell phone.  It was a phone you carried around with you, so you could listen to your gossip no matter where you were. Like in the movie theatre.  Or the line at the bank.

Of course, that wasn’t enough.  Because soon people were spreading gossip in other ways. It was called e-mail and the internet.  So naturally, it was soon discovered that we weren’t home enough to be on our computers so the cell phone involved into a device that connected to the internet, as well as being able to take phone calls.   This lead to people spreading gossip by text, calls, and social media.  Oh yeah, and telling the world what they were doing every minute of the day, because everyone knows that what YOU are doing is the most interesting thing in the world to everyone else.  Even when you announce that you have to go to the bathroom.  Or even putting everyone’s life around you in danger because you have to do all this while driving.

Personally, I think that this has led to most of us to become sincerely self absorbed.  But that’s not why I’m sitting at my computer, ignoring Facebook and Twitter, typing out this post.

I still want to talk about cell phones.

You see, we have come so far with these devices, in our mad dash to be “connected” that someone missed a step.

The one where cell phones actually work very well as….. a phone.

Oh come on, you know what I’m talking about. Dropped calls, voices cutting in and out, cell phones that don’t work for very long before breaking down, that sort of thing.  In the old days, when you had a phone hanging on your wall, the thing could be used to beat your children with, and the only time you couldn’t understand what the person on the phone with you was saying was when the kids were running around causing havoc in the house, which of course is how it was discovered your could use the hand held part of the phone to beat your children with, without breaking the thing.  Those phone were almost indestructible. I think they indestructibility of these phone is what led Timex to come out with their line: “Timex, it takes a licking, but keeps on ticking”.

Maybe it’s just me, but is it really to much to ask to have a phone that actually can make a phone call without worrying about missing half the conversation, or dropping a call? Or suddenly deciding to break down on you after only owning it for three months?  Especially when you consider how much I pay you every month and the trouble I have deciphering your cryptic bills.

So how about it Mobile Device Manufacturers?  How about stop putting out new devices every month that bring exciting new options for connecting to social media, surfing the web, and fast download speeds, and come out with a phone that worked as well as the one that hung on my kitchen wall back in the 90’s.  Some of us still use these mobile devices for TALKING, for business, that sort of thing.

I don’t care if it’s the device manufacturers fault or the fault of the network they are operating on (because I think it’s both because I have had a number of cell phones over the years).

I want a mobile device that will make a call and be able to have an actual phone conversation without missing words or dropping a call.  Seriously.

Please, and thank you.

Kitteh Galore

So where have I been?  I’m sorry I haven’t been around, but things have been busy, busy, busy.  Between work and making sure my daughter reaches her goal of graduating high school, I’ve been a bit preoccupied.  Not to mention the third tiny, insey whinsey little issue of pregnant cats and a deranged wife.

I’ve explained our family issue of the numerous cats that have decided to take over my property before so I won’t revisit.  However, there is something you need to know about feral cats.  If they are female?  They somehow become pregnant.  Don’t ask me how, this is NOT a kitty porn post.

So somehow, we had 4 female cats get pregnant within weeks of each other (sigh).  Funny thing about pregnant cats?  They suddenly become a lot less feral if they are used to you.

Because of this fact, my wife decided that to get rid of all the kittens, she would need to socialize them.  To do that, she needed to know where they were born.  Feral cats are funny about letting you know where they hide their kittens at.  I guess they think, despite the fact you have been nice to THEM, you will eat them.  In my wife’s quest to get rid of kittens (mhm, like I was buying into that story), she waiting until the cats were as big around as pumpkins, and then GOT THEM IN THE HOUSE.

The result?  15 kittens.  In. My. House.

Further result?

Tripping on kittens.  Kittens climbing my legs. Kittens knocking things over.  Kittens GETTING ON MY LAST NERVE.

If I was a James Bond villain, my name would be Kitteh Galore.  It’s HORRIBLE.

Last night, I was trying to go to sleep and one of them decided to climb the bed and attack various parts of my body even though I wasn’t moving around.

Oh the agony!

Needless to say, as their age is quickly approaching the “kick ‘em out the door” time, I’m SO ready for these balls of fur to go away.

There is light at the end of the tunnel though. We have a number of people already speaking for a portion of the kittens.  But I need MORE PEOPLE TO TAKE THEM.  Also, I saw this advertisement for this device you put in your yard that keeps animals away from it.  Anyone know if these devices work?  I’m ready to invest!

Why the chicken (or Guinea) crossed the road

Forget the various crises in the world. Forget Pia getting voted off Idol.  I have a more pressing concern.

Why, oh why did that Guinea try to cross the road?

I may live (almost) in the city, but people being people, they will keep the oddest pets.  For whatever reason.  Even if it’s not really an appropriate place.  Maybe it’s the fact they are the obsessive-cute type people who see a baby animal and go “OH MY GOD, MUST HAVE NOW”.  Or maybe it’s because they smoke to much weed.  I really don’t know.

What I do know is that often times these people do not cage or contain these odd pets in an appropriate manner.  I don’t know why they do that either, unless it’s to annoy their neighbors.  Which kinda sounds fun, but hey, I’m not willing to shell out food for free ranging animals just to have a chuckle.

One of these types of people live on the route I take my daughter to school every morning.  It’s actually a rare day when we don’t see various types of chickens roaming around in several yards.

But nothing could prepare me for yesterday morning, when we had a run in with a Guinea hen.  Yes, a Guinea hen (pictured above).

So I’m driving down the road, minding my own business, when they car in front of me made a left turn.  As I started to accelerate again, there on the side of the road where two Guineas.  As I approached, suddenly one of them darted out in to the road, it’s head bobbing in time with it’s gait.  As I got closer, the Guinea, realizing there was several thousand pounds of metal hurtling towards it, did an abrupt U-Turn, and I tell you now, he was moving so fast, he had to actually lean into the turn.  His head, obviously, increased it’s bobbing as his speed increased, making me dizzy as all get out.  Yeah, there is just something hypnotic about foul head bobbing.  I think that’s why we starting eating foul.  We were mesmerized by that head bobbing and therefore figured it was stupid, and something the world wouldn’t miss if we ate it.

I’m not sure what that Guinea was thinking.  Perhaps it was depressed and thought about committing vehicular suicide and (ahem) chickened out at the last moment.  Or maybe it was mad at the world, and was trying to take it out on me.  Or maybe he was a brave Guinea and wanted to play chicken on the road.  Or maybe, just maybe, it was just trying to cross the road, and I was to close so it changed it’s mind, preventing me from discovering the answer to the age old question of why did the chicken cross the road.

My daughter and I had a good laugh over the Guinea.  But I will admit, I’m curious as to who ARE these people who keep pets like this when they don’t live on a farm and why in the WORLD don’t they keep them pinned up?

I guess like the question of why did the chicken cross the road, I will never know.  I’m probably going to lose sleep over it now, all thanks to some goofy Guinea, trying to cross the road.

"Or Best Offer" Really? Man have I got a deal for you!

I’m a firm believer in being able to sell something you own.  It really doesn’t matter to me if it’s a fair price, a market style price, or way underpriced.  Since you, as an individual is selling the item, you should be able to ask what you want.  The same is not true for corporations (for the most part).  All of this Governed by what people are willing to pay for an item.  Take for example, the Apple iPad.  If people didn’t believe it was worth what they are charging for it, they wouldn’t be buying it. 

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for necessities, such as Gasoline. Ahem.

So, if you are individual selling, for arguments sake, a book, and you ask $ 50.00 dollars for it because you believe it has sentimental value and is a first edition, it’s possible you might find a buyer willing to pay that price.  Or not.  The same can be said for cars.  If you have a modern car, and want to sell it, you can list it for sale for whatever price you want, and maybe you will sell it for that price.  Or maybe not.

But one thing that absolutely gets under my skin is the term “Or Best Offer”.

Look.  If you want to sell something, list you price and take your chances.  Like say, a car.  Chances are, a halfway smart individual will at least look up the value of the car and see if you’re asking price is reasonable.  Then the decision will be down to; A) if that individual has the money), and B) if the item is good enough condition to be worth that kind of money.

But what is that “Or Best Offer” crap?

I will tell you what it is.  It’s a nuisance. 

I’m a nice guy.  I really am.  But if I see something I might be interested in, and it has a price along with “or best offer”, well then you deserve the aggravation of dealing with me.  If you’re asking $ 4,0000.00 “Or Best Offer”, then the following is likely to happen.  If I think I can re-sell the item and make money, and it sits there for sale for a few weeks, then I’m likely to say, since you’re accepting “or best offer”, my offer is $ 10.00.  Or maybe a $ 1.00.  Depending on what is being sold.  If it’s a car, I might go as high as $ 100.00, if it’s in good shape.  Then I will turn around and sell it for below the market value and make me some money.

Why?  Because chances are, it’s likely the person selling the item is asking to much for it, knows it, and just wants to see how close to their asking price they can get for it.

So just so you know, if you have a nice motorcycle that is worth $ 1,000, and ask $ 1,200 “or best offer”, expect me at your door offering $ 50.  If you say no, don’t worry, I won’t get mad.  I’ll just shrug and walk away.

I don’t know why, but “or best offer” really gets under my skin.

An Appalachian Adventure

On Monday morning, my job took me Southwest into the State of Virginia.  I will be the first to admit that there are parts of Virginia that are absolutely beautiful.  Virginia is such a diverse state in regards to the fact there is Ocean front, marsh lands, large rivers, fairly flat lands, and even majestic mountains.  We even host the world famous Luray Caverns and if you haven’t seen them, you should try to make it out one day.

One of the things Southwest Virginia is known for is Coal.  We have a number of large coal mines deep in the Appalachian mountains.  My eventual destination was one of these towns.

I’ve travelled all over the state, but I had not yet been to coal town.  As a coal virgin, I really wasn’t sure what to expect.  So when I pulled into town, I was quite bug eyed.

It seems that coal towns are planned rather differently than most towns.  At least the one I visited, and several others I passed through.  They make a road, by blasting through rock faces and everything is built along the road.  Stores, houses, you name it.  When they run out of room, they simply stack things up the mountain side.  Sort of like those step pyramids. 

When I got to town, the first thing I noticed was that I had no cell phone service.  This really didn’t surprise me, since you are surrounded by mountains.  I knew I would have internet access, because I asked the hotel and was quite proudly told “we even have WIRELESS access in our hotel”.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I fully expected to have to milk the Hotel owner’s cows to gain access though.

When I decided to get something to eat, I asked and it seemed my best choice without spending “the big bucks” by going to the Peking Chinese Restaurant was The Huddle House.  For those not in the know, The Huddle House is pretty much like Waffle House, but they don’t concentrate on waffles.  They concentrate on Huddles, whatever those are.  I suspect it has something to do with Mountain Oysters and if you don’t know what THOSE are, you don’t want to know.  Trust me.  The food?  Not to bad actually.  Although they were out of butter.  How can you be out of butter surrounded by cows?  I mean come on, just go like, churn some right?

One of the things I learned though, while visiting this town, was why people in mountain country drive so slow.  I really had never thought about before and just figured it was because people who live in the mountains typically live at a slower pace than us city folk.  Well, nothing could be further from the truth.  It occurred to me that first of all, to drive 30 miles in the mountains will typically take you an hour. At least.  So mountain folk are just as much in a hurry as the rest of us.  The problem it seems, is that mountain folk drive slowly because they really don’t know what to expect in the case of what is going to fall off the mountain onto the road in front of their cars.  Things like trees, rocks, drunk people, small animals, and bears.   Yes, bears.  Hitting a deer is one thing, but can you imagine hitting a bear?  Especially one that SHOULD be hibernating?  That’s a good way to get your car, and your face, eaten real quick.  Small animals you can count on, at least for no other reason everywhere else they run OUT INTO the road.  I guess it stands to reason they are going to tumble there way OFF a mountain.  If it happens to be a cat, I fully expect it would land on it’s feet and begin to wash furiously, trying to make you think it was just skiing or something, instead of rolling down a hill.  You know how cats are.

I think the fear of drunk people falling onto the road off the mountain originated from the days of when there were lots of illegal stills.  But maybe I’m wrong about that.  There isn’t much to do in these towns as far as I could see, so maybe people just end up drinking to much.

I am happy to report though, the town I visited had a brand new place to eat.  Brand new building and everything.  It was a Pizza Hut.  Maybe next time I go though there I will stop and eat.  As long as there are no Mountain Oysters on that pizza that is.

I do know that I worry about the way that have housing set up in these town though.  If a rock at top breaks free, and rolls down the mountain, it’s going to take out houses like a bowling ball and bowling pins.  That kinda makes me nervous.  And maybe THAT’S why people drink in these towns.

If Life Were Run By Apple and Steve Jobs

Tonight, I finally decided to stop being lazy and updated the SYNC system in my Ford Taurus.  I don’t mind telling you that I love my SYNC system.  I don’t have the fancy version with built in navigation and news, etc, but mine does allow for hands free phone use and just as important, streaming music from my iPhone through Bluetooth.

Which brings me to an interesting note.

Before I get to that however, please note that Microsoft, Windows, Apple, the iPhone, and anything else mentioned is trademarked by and all that by the appropriate companies etc, etc.

My interesting note is this.  SYNC is a Microsoft and Ford creation.  The good thing about the SYNC system is that it is upgradeable.  You use a USB drive, download updates, then upload them to your car.  I would like to say this is an easy task.  For me?  It is.  But I will tell you that if my parents ever owned a Ford Car with Sync, it would NEVER EVER get updated, unless I did it.  Why?  Because like most things Microsoft does, it’s creepy complicated.

First, you have to plug in the USB drive and choose your update from the SYNC web site.  Then you have to try and convince the web site to actually install the update on your USB Drive.  Sometimes, or often, or almost always, it doesn’t want to corporate.  But, if you keep with it, you can get your update.

Once you do that, you take the USB Drive to your car, plug it into your USB port in the car, and then… then you have to go though about 48749292749403 steps in your menu system to get the update to INSTALL.  When it’s installed, the car is nice enough to inform you that the installation is complete.  BUT WAIT.  It hasn’t completed.  Honest.  The 573937493739 steps in the instructions make SURE YOU UNDERSTAND THIS.  You then have to wait.  And Wait.  You wait anywhere from 8 to 20 minutes for the car to ONCE AGAIN TELL YOU THE INSTALLATION IS COMPLETE.  Because obviously, this makes TOTAL SENSE.

Then, you once again plug the USB drive into the computer and try to “report successful installation”.  This means the web site must communicate with your USB Drive.  Of course, as I’m sure you guessed, almost never works.  This is so you can erase everything on the USB Drive, download the VERSION Checker, and run THAT in your car.  This design is obviously done on purpose, by some nerd who thinks this is funny.

Funny thing is, I find this no different than Windows on my computer.

Now don’t get me wrong.  I like Windows.  Mostly because when I entered the work force (a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away), everything ran on DOS.  For you young whipper snappers, that is also a Microsoft operating system.  One that required that you TYPE in everything.  If you were smart, you could build a shell program that with the press of a button would launch programs for you.  Then, windows came around and made things easier.  Meaning you could use a mouse to double click on icons which would start a program.  This is, I’m sure, what you are all familiar with.  Of course, Windows crashed a lot.  Got lots of updates.  And was genuinely a pain in the rear.  This is because Bill Gates and his employees are all Nerds of highest sort, who think that everyone needs to be as smart as them to run a computer. 

At one time, there was some slight completion to Microsoft.  It was Apple.  But for some reason, Apple didn’t take off as quickly as the board thought it should so they kicked the man who invented Apple out of the company.  I’m talking about Steve Jobs.  However, because they couldn’t do a better job of taking over the world like Bill Gates and his Nerds did, they brought him back into the fold.  Steve Jobs them started quickly slamming the Nerds and brow beat them into FUNCTIONALITY over all, along with EASE OF USE.  That’s when the iPod came out, and pretty much changed the world as we know it.  Soon, there were millions of people walking around with those trade mark white ear phones in, listening to music.

Now Microsoft, not to be outdone, already had a media player that would allow you to rip music, and also transfer it to a music playing device.  Trouble was, it was so difficult to use, no one wanted to use it.

I leaned this when I got my daughter an iPod for Christmas.  I downloaded iTunes, plugged the iPod in and was simply… amazed.  It was so easy to use that even I could do it, and that is saying something.  With the release of the iPhone, and then the iPad, that simplicity hasn’t changed.  Sure, it has it’s problems now and then, but even where there is one, it’s really really easy to recover from.

So all this got me thinking.  What would it be like if Microsoft or Apple ran your life?

MICROSOFT:

Wake up.  Got to bathroom.  Push buttons on toilet until you get to the right menu option to flush.  When it crashes and hangs, call a plumber (technical support).

Get in your car.  Try to sort through various menu options to get car to start.  Car won’t start so you call your mechanic (technical support).  Or, the car starts, and you drive to work, trying frantically to keep up with pushing various buttons to sort through menus to use blinkers, etc.  Hope the car doesn’t experience a system crash.  If you happen to make it to work, hope that the car cuts off, instead of “hanging”, causing you once again to call your mechanic (technical support).

Work all day at the office, hoping your computer doesn’t give you any trouble, making you call IT (technical support).  If it does have trouble, you don’t get any work done.  However, the computer will helpfully display a message advising you to check the Microsoft Knowledge base for help, but you can’t connect to the internet, because your computer is not working.

Drive home.  Hope the car, once again, gets you there without having to call your mechanic (technical support).

Try to fix dinner.  Scroll through various menus to make the stove work, hoping like mad nothing goes wrong and causes the house to fill with gas, causing an explodion when the stove lighter works at random times.  But this time, there is an update for your stove, which you have to install before cooking dinner.  Unfortunately, the update won’t download, so you have to call a repair man (technical support) and you go to bed hungry.

Just so you know, all technical support is handled by someone in another country, who has an accent so think you can’t understand what they are trying to tell you, and apparently has trouble understanding you as well.  They will seem more interested in updating your “information”, such as address, e-mail, and phone number, than anything else.

APPLE:

You wake up, go to the bathroom.  Push a button to flush.  If it doesn’t work, it recovers automatically with one push of a button and off you go to eat breakfast.

You get in your car, push a button and your car starts.  If it doesn’t another push of the same button recovers everything and the car starts.  As you drive, there is only one button to push to use everything like blinkers, etc.  As you drive, you notice an update is available.  You push the button and the update installs while you are driving. Oh and the car plays your favorite tunes, or allows you to talk on the phone while you drive.

You get to work and use your computer, slightly irritated by the fact the mouse only has one button, but at least you meet your deadline.  The plus side is, you can listen your favorite tunes while you work.

You get in your car and drive home, while listening to your favorite tunes.

You get home and cook dinner on the stove, which also has one button that somehow knows exactly WHAT you are cooking and works like a charm.  Oh, and the stove helpfully plays your favorite tunes while you eat.

Boy I could go on, but I think you get the idea.  Though I still use Windows, this is how it seems the world would be.  Now, I think I will go download some music from the iTunes store, and push a button and watch it install on my iPhone… with ease.

Clandestine Meetings and Babies

Not only does my wife refuse to grow old gracefully, but she pretty much refuses to do anything that resembles normal.  I think she took the idea of being unique to a whole new level.  But maybe she is just weird.  Or is crazy from being married to me for so long.

One of the things that she refused to do normally was be pregnant.  Oh I know, every pregnancy is different.  But well, my wife tried to take this to new heights.

Before I go ahead with that, I guess I really need to start at the beginning.

I used to work for a Secret Government Agency, and my wife worked for an Agency that’s letter’s resemble FBI.  Ok, so FBI it was.  I was overseas, doing secret government work, and she was working on a high profile case.  Trouble was, our cases, so to speak, were connected.  She had documents that I needed information from to seek out my target and save the free world.  I figured it would be easy enough to sneak into her hotel room while she was sleeping.  Trouble is, my wife is not only beautiful, but smart and sneaky.  I was caught red handed, in her hotel room, with a gun to my head.  I, being the witty and charming fellow that I am, managed to talk my way out of a bullet to the head.  I also somehow managed to take advantage of the fact that she slept in the nude.  Did I mention my wife is beautiful?  She is.  It must have been something in the air or water, but in the interest of national security, we decided to pool our resources.  We pooled our resources a number of times that night.  It was sweaty work, but extremely nice.  Because we worked for different agencies, we decided to keep our meeting a secret, thus The Clandestine Meeting of my life.  Several months later, I got notice from her that she was pregnant.  They say it only takes once, but since our Clandestine meeting involved numerous pooling of resources that one night, who knows which pool was to blame.  Well, clearly mine, but that’s how it goes.

Ok, the above might not be true, except for the pregnant part.  My wife DID get pregnant, which came as a shock to us both.  I was happy, she?  Not so much.  At least not at first. By the time she was happy, she had become to realize how blessed she had been with her pregnancy so far.  No morning sickness.  No weird cravings.  Clearly I was also blessed, since I wasn’t sent by an angry hormonal pregnant woman out in the middle of the night to obtain some weird item that she HAD TO HAVE RIGHT NOW.  What she did crave was watermelon, grapes and popsicles.  And by watermelon, I mean whole ones.  That she would eat in one day.  The only time she ever got sick was when one or two things happened.  The first was due to a commercial.  McDonald’s at one time has a western omelet biscuit.  Whenever my wife would see that commercial, she would have to run to the bathroom to lose all her watermelon.  The second was onions.  My wife loves onions.  Always have, but apparently our gestating baby growing in her belly didn’t because any time she had onions?  Well, she would lose all her watermelon.  This once happened in a parking  lot after going out to eat one night.

When the time finally came for our baby to arrive, we were both not ready.  I had been sick and in the hospital for two days and my wife had the flu.  But we were in bed, and she kept sitting up all though the night.  I asked if she was ok, and she said yes, but she had indigestion.  She had indigestion alright.  The kind that spells KID.  I finally asked her if she was in labor and she said I don’t know.  It wasn’t long before she admitted that yes, she thought she was.  Of course, those who have had children will say you know when you are in labor, but again, remember my wife does nothing normal like.  In the morning, we went to the doctor and they clarified that she was indeed in labor.  Then they did the strangest thing.  They sent us HOME.  I was clearly in shock.  My wife was about to have a BABY.  Why should we go home?  They said we had plenty of time, to time the contractions, and when they reached a certain point, to go to the hospital.  So we sat at home.  All day long.  At the end of the day (by that I mean close to 5 PM), we called her doctor’s office back and they were like, “What?  You are still at home?  Why?  Come to the hospital! You’re having a baby for gosh shakes!”.  I won’t repeat my response to that.  So I bundled up my pregnant wife and off we went to the hospital.

Once there, a flurry of activity started.  Before we knew it, she was in a maternity bed with nurses surrounding her.  Since her water hadn’t broken, that had to be done manually, as well as giving her something to get the contractions moving.  Now the thing is, one of the things they tell you when having a baby is to have warm thick socks.  Because your feet are going to get cold because after all, you are going to be half naked with a bunch of strangers looking at your privates.  When they break your water, they curl you in a ball, and jam something up inside you, which let me tell you does NOT seem right, which promptly soaked her warm socks.  So now I had a hormonal and slightly scared pregnant woman with cold feet.  Let me just say that was a scary moment.  My wife has cute little feet, but she hates her toes.  Now those toes were exposed and she was NOT happy.  Plus her feet were cold, at least until she got her epidural, or as my wife calls it, “A Blessing From Heaven”.

BUT first, they gave her something to help take the edge off until they could arrange for the epidural.  She, being who she is, had a strange reaction.  Although not in pain, when they started an IV, she started to cry.  I was, of course, concerned, until she looked at me and said, “I don’t know why I’m crying, it didn’t even hurt”.  I’m thinking she was crying at the sight of my face.

Eventually, she got the epidural, and all was right with the world.  Not that she would have known, since she promptly did what most people with a sleep condition do.  She slept through long periods of her labor.  Oh, before I forget, she had a LOOONG labor.  Not only did it start in the middle of the night, but had lasted all through the day and was now well into dark.  They gave her that drug to speed up her contractions, and of course, you guessed it, she had a reaction to THAT as well.  So they had to slow it down.  Eventually, my wife decided to wake up and get this show on the road and deliver a baby.  The trouble was, she hated the doctor that was on call that night.  I mean REALLY hated him. Her regular baby doctor is a very well known German baby doctor.  In fact, if you have ready any of the Kay Scarpetta books by Patricia Cornwell, then you would have recognized her since one of the characters in the book was based on this doctor.  It just so happenes that she was, that very night, ready to fly to the Caribbean.    But she was at the hospital, heard my wife was in labor and stuck her head in the door with a smile and said “how are you doing?”.  I’m not sure exactly what it was my wife said that caused the good doc to change her plans but before we knew it, she was “scrubbed in” and took charge.  She was giving everyone orders, even me.  I’m not ashamed to admit it but I was jumping to do her bidding as much as everyone else. 

While my wife was doing her part, as in pushing, there was a nurse there who kept rubbing her leg and giving my wife encouragement.  For some reason, having a numb leg rubbed really irritated my wife.  Most husbands have to endure abuse when their lady is giving birth.  I got lucky, because my wife decided to take it all out on the nurse rubbing her leg, instead of blaming her current predicament on me.  I was almost sad by this, because I had planned on telling her that if she hadn’t slept naked and held a gun to my head during our clandestine meeting, she wouldn’t BE in this predicament.  But I never got the chance.  Instead, I got to hear my sweet little wife tell a nice nurse “if you touch my leg again, I’m going to hit you”.

It wasn’t long before the miracle of our daughter graced the world with her presence.   I know I’m her father and all, but I swear, she was most beautiful baby in the world.

So that is how my wife did the very un-normal method of delivery.  Most men have to rush around because they can’t think while their wives take control, go to the hospital, faint at the sight of a baby coming out of their wife, get blamed for the whole thing, then bask in proud fatherhood.  I got the last part down, but the rest?  Well, it was interesting to say the least.

Funny thing though, we never did get hazard pay for our overseas assignments.  But I guess a beautiful wife giving you a beautiful daughter is payment enough.  It certainly was for me.

Rubber Chickens, Clown Noses and Taxes

Hello from Awkward Humor!  I know it’s been awhile since I’ve posted, which I apologize for.  Things have been extremely crazy for me over the last few weeks.  I’m hoping that this week will see things calm down.  I wrote several posts, but decided not to post them, since they didn’t meet my standard.

But I’m here now.  I’m sure you missed me, and who could blame you?

It’s tax time again, the part of the year where we all gripe and moan, and hope to get back tons of money from our Government.  Hey, at least they DO give back what we over paid.  It’s always been a mystery to me why our tax laws are so difficult.  I blame it on the rich who manage to somehow get exemptions passed so they can keep even more of the millions they already have.  Apparently, they think they can take it with them when they die.  I’m not sure how they plan on doing that since a casket is only so big.  Of course, with that much money I guess you can have a custom casket built as big as you want.  Fortunately, that is not my problem.  Or maybe that is unfortunately, since I’m not rich.

But I digress.  I was writing about taxes.

Maneuvering through the various tax paperwork is like maneuvering through a mine field.  It’s something my wife refuses to let me do, because she is smart.  I do, however, count myself lucky that I have her to do our taxes instead of lugging all our papers to someone to do if for us.

Which brings me to the point of this post.  What, exactly, has come of the world when companies who do taxes for you offer it though a carnival atmosphere?

Seriously, have you noticed?

All you have to do is drive down the road.  You will see people standing on street corners, in various stages of dress, dancing, gesturing, even singing, trying to point you to their service.  I’ve seen signs and even  a certain company who gets someone dressed as the Statue of Liberty to try and convince you that you should come and get your taxes done.  I guess they think that everyone drives around with all their financial paperwork in the car, so that when they see a crazy dancing person they will go “hey, that reminds me, it’s time to get my taxes done and I have no problem putting my tax return in the hands of a dancing teenager dressed as the Statue of Liberty.”

Because, hey, that makes perfect sense.

I don’t know about you, but the fact that these companies will even put people on street corners dancing and gesturing, even singing, doesn’t exactly inspire me to confidence.  Of course, maybe these companies give rubber chickens or clown noses as a return instead of cash.

I don’t intend to find out.

Instead, I will keep trusting my lovely wife to do our tax returns, and leave the clowning around to those on street corners.

Hazmat Suits, Lysol, and Tonsils.

It’s the season.  The season of germs, flu, colds, viruses and other nasty bugs.  There is no way to avoid it.  Everywhere you go, someone is sneezing, dripping, or coughing in your face.  If I were a lesser person, I would consider filing restraining orders against all sick people.  But alas, I know it’s something you have to deal with, every SINGLE year.  We can put a man on the moon, but we can’t defeat the common cold or the flu.

Here, in our household, we have to deal with it as well.  I must unfortunately admit that I am getting older, since I now usually manage to get sick at least once a year.  When I was younger, I rarely got sick.  When I was kid, I was always sick, but that’s another story.

My daughter, bless her tiny little heart, gets sick every year about this time.  I blame it on the fact that Doctors no longer remove tonsils.  Every year, she gets some nasty infection, which usually develops into strep throat, enlarged tonsils, and high fevers.  Of course, dealing with the Doctors during all of this is no fun, since you can’t convince them you know your child better than they do.  As is always the case, when my little girl (who is 18 but will always be my little girl) starts saying “my throat hurts”, you can bet money on the fact she has the beginning stages of strep.  Despite the history of this, in her medical records, the Doctors refuse to do anything until it’s too late.  Which means they end up writing her notes excusing her from school for at least a week.  Sometimes more.

We are, at this time, going on day 4 of her being out of school.

She went to the Doctor again today, and she saw her regular Doctor.  As you know, during the cold and flu season, it’s next to impossible to see your regular Doctor within a 2 week period.  I think this is a conspiracy by Doctors who probably get tired of seeing the same faces over and over. Somehow, my wife managed a miracle and got an appointment for the kid this morning.  Of course, after already missing three days (going on 4) of school, and still being very sick (including a fever), what does she say?  “Oh this won’t do.” And promptly prescribes enough antibiotics to cure a third world country of every disease known to mankind.  Why this couldn’t have been done on the FIRST visit is an eternal mystery that ranks up there with why toast almost always lands butter side down on the floor and how a very clean teenage girl can have a bathroom so nasty the homeless would refuse to sleep there.

So in a few days, my daughter will finally start to get well.  In the meantime, my wife is ALSO sick.  I don’t know if she has the same thing, as it’s not presenting the same, but she has the sniffles, stuffy head, cough, and aches.

I now feel like I should be wearing a hazmat suit in my own house people.

I know what’s going to happen.  Despite already being sick ONCE this season, I’m going to end up sick again.  Because I’m surrounded by demonic germs of the sickly.  Which sounds like the name of a rock band.  If you want to use that as the name of your band, feel free.  I’ll expect a 5% royalty check in the mail on everything you sell.

I’m starting to feel a little desperate.  Earlier, I found myself looking for Lysol, so I could gleefully spray the entire house.  And maybe my wife and daughter.  I’ve even considered telling them to open wide and spray the stuff down their throats.

I REALLY don’t want to get sick again.

Maybe I will get lucky and the years of learning every crafty ninja germ deflecting move will work.  But probably not.  Soon, I’ll probably be on the couch, whining and complaining about how bad I feel and calling for my wife every 10 minutes.  Hey, I’m a man, it’s what we do when sick.  This will, of course, prompt her to roll her eyes, mutter under her breath, spend lots of time in rooms where she can’t hear me, and then post a blog about what a pain in her rear end I am.

That’s about the only bonus that will come of this, I’m telling you now.

So off I go, armed with Febreze in one hand and Lysol in the other.  Wish me luck, or you’ll be hearing from my wife.  Oh, and as I side note, cats don’t like spray cans.  Judging from the way they run and scatter when they hear that can hiss, I believe they think you are spraying the Ebola virus at them.  Oh yeah, and if I do get sick again, I will be resuming my campaign to get my wife to dress up like a nurse again and play "Doctor".  Sorta like the nurse below.  I keep telling her it would make me get well faster, which usually prompts her to tell me to shut it and hide in another room.  No doubt only in the attempt to not get sick again herself.  I'm sure that's the story she will stick with anyway.

Mhm-hmm. Dressing like this would make me feel real perky, really fast.

Until next time, when I'm sure I'll be blogging from my sick bed.