News

710 is a good husband. 

He buffers me from a lot of news. Now and then he'll ask me if I heard of this or that. It's about 50 / 50 with my answers. Do I know about most anything in detail - no.  Do I want to?  Also no. 

Did I know there was an earthquake in Venezuela?  No.   Did I care?  Also no.  But he was more intrigued by non-Apple phones and the ability for their OS to have the ability to detect the seismology, giving people several minutes notice before the actual event. 

That Apple can't - or wont (?) - include that is amazing. That we don't have it for the U.S. is also somewhat telling. You'd think people in LA or San Fran would want that ability. 

So - that's the kind of news he relates to me. Of course, I had to learn about Venezuela in the process - and now that we "run it", I wonder is it up to us to fix it?  The question is indeed rhetorical. We have to rebuild Iraq for $300 BILLION, so where would we even get the money?  Oh yes - food stamps.  Duh. 

Anyhooo......when 710 does forward me stories, they are ones of interest more than news. 

Case in point - the guy above. Or as he's known in the UK:  the Hot Podium Guy. 

I don't think that's his official job title - but I've been known to be wrong before. 

What he is is the sound engineer who sets up the lectern and mic for the Prime Minster of England. And the NYT has an entire article about him. He has set up this rig for the last five prime minsters to announce they're stepping down or calling an election. Now six. The arrival of Hot Podium Guy is like a precursor to change in Britain. 

Some fave things about the article were this part: 

Almost overnight, he became a social media sensation. Some pointed out his muscular arms, while others said, despite not hearing much from him, that they trusted him over Theresa May to successfully broker Brexit.

and....describing him as...."a cross between “a choirboy and a Chippendale.”

I feel bad for the guy. He didn't ask for this attention, but what are you gonna do. The article says he is in competition with Larry the Cat - who is the feline living at 10 Downing St. 

For me - it's a toss up. 

Song by: Dire Straits 

Blowin ' in the Wind

Can I just say, I feel somewhat bad for my influence on my husband? 

But only somewhat. 

In theory - or at least once upon a time - he was more mature than I. But honestly, who wasn't?  Who isn't?  He still is. Just less so. 

I think the foundation of my destruction of his humour level came at my telling of the USS Enterprise / Toilet Paper joke*.  

His biggest laughs now-a-days comes from some of the least mature items on Family Guy. Honestly, I love watching him watch some of them and his inability not to laugh. If there is a level below sophomoric humour, he kind of loves it. 

Not tawdry stuff. It's more the making fun of everyday things. Things most probably wouldn't laugh at. Like the below clip. 

So I just watched in delight as I watched him play this stumbled-upon clip from InstaGram. 

Whatever you think, you gotta love the guys commitment to the bit. And yes, you have to watch it all. 

I am sorry I have brought 710 down to my level. But there was no real way of getting up to his. 

*What do the USS Enterprise and Toilet Paper have in common?   They both circle Uranus in search of Klingons. 

Song by: Bob Dylan

Ocean of Noise

We are now on day nine: post jellyfish sting. 

I'd like to say that it is all better - and it is better, but it's not ALL better. 

You would probably think I'd look up online to see what the progression of such an encounter would be like.  You'd be wrong. 

So the broad redness you saw in the original pictures (that's the hyperlink up above) pretty much had disappeared, along with all of the pain.  What was left was what I would call the center of the trauma. The actual marks of the jellyfish's stingers / tentacles / death claws.........or whatever they're called. 

Even Friday, at afterwork beers, the doctor I went with wanted to see them. I mean, I could show some - that were on my knees by hiking up my pant leg, but you know, the rest were........private.  We discussed how good they looked and how much healing had gone on. 

Saturday morning was a different story. 

The problem up above is, not only is the sport darker and more pronounced (though if you have good eyes, you can see the deeper red 'tentacle marks' in that eye of Jupiter.), I have new areas of redness and marks that had not show before. .....and they're multiplyin'.....

Then there is this monstrosity.  

Friday it was about one-tenth of the size it is now. There is no pain, not really. But it's starting to itch, though I have kept my fingers off it other than to apply Cortizone cream, which seems to do nothing than make everything I come in contact with become greasy. 

710 and I were sitting around last night discussing it. Should I see someone?  Good luck getting into a dermatologist in a reasonable timeframe. 

During the convo, we talked about 'the event'. Honestly, we really hadn't. Yes, the after we got out - what do I need to do. But not of the moment. 

You don't all know 710. Some of you do and know him as a cool (not like Fonzie!) and collected. Nothing much rattles him - and if it does, it doesn't show. 

I couldn't tell you how he reacted at the time - or even after we got out. I would say I was focused on getting out, but I wasn't. I didn't know what was going on and just wanted it all to stop and hoped those motherfuckers weren't following me. 

As I can see now in hindsight, he had no idea what was going on with me. I was giving no real words of indication of it either. Internally, he said, he was freaking out. I'd say "he didn't show it", but I really don't know, as I was not paying attention or focused. 

So, I guess I'll see what the next few days brings in terms of my epidermis. It's a good thing my modeling career is behind me. 

Song by: Arcade Fire

the Other Me

Anyone who knows me, wouldn't call me a 'silver lining' kind of guy. 

So no one was more surprised than myself when yesterday I was kind of that guy.  .....thought a little background first. 

My "illness" the other day wasn't gummy-related or even food borne.  I know this because 710 and I didn't eat the same thing and yesterday morning he had what I had - just about five times worse. So I'm going with something bacterial or viral. 

As he got ill after I left for work, I finished my first morning meeting and left the office and worked the rest of the day from home, while tending to his needs. 

I got a text from a friend asking how he was, and I told them. I got a return reply: "I think you guys deserve a break one of these days". 

My reply was quick and simple:  "in a year of Covid, I'm ok with this being the extent of our illnesses". 

See?  Silver fucking lining. 

What / Who am I turning into?  

Song by: Paul McCartney

Brother's Keeper

So yesterday was 710's birthday. Save for work, it was a grand time, though nothing super special was done - per his request.

A few years back, I've spent more birthdays with him than I have not. That means, per his lifetime, the majority of them he's celebrated (or not, as the case may be) with me than without. Not a bad maker.

Apres work, we went out to dinner. A nice place, but not a new one. It is what 710 wanted, and that's my job. He wouldn't let me get him anything, so just a nice dinner was on deck. That's ok with me.

Dinner was great. But the best part was the two people you can't see clearly in the picture. They intrigued me to no end. Both had the exact same hair 'do.  ...and not a flattering one.

Whomever their SuperCuts "guy" was, they styled them just the same: ala Flock of Seagulls minus the mousse.

Poor 710. I could barely keep his gaze and I made him turn around - several times - to look.

And then the woman next to us. I just wanted to lean over and say, "have you ever consider having your adenoids taken out?".  Instead I just killed the bottle of wine we had ordered.

Oh yes, It was a Tuesday and it was the third day in a row of drunk. I'd say Rebecca and Morty weren't even there, but 710 was emailing Becky while I Sammy Jo'd* it.

Afterwards, we stopped at the grocery store for a few provisions: i.e. cake. There is this cute-ish kind of cashier there. As 710 was paying, he eye'd us up and down and goes....."so..........are you two brothers?"

While the line was amusing, his delivery made me laugh, not just on the way out of the store, but in the car and on the entire drive home.

...and it wasn't just the wine making me do the laughing.


.......I think.



*to toss back the rest of your drink, they way Heather Locklear's Poor White Trash character on Dynasty (Sammy Jo) would consume alcohol. 



Song by: Aimee Mann