Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

How's your week going? 

As you've seen on my 12 of 12, I host a Monday morning operations meeting to kick off the week. I prep at 0430a, hit the gym and then am ready for it at 07:30. 

Yesterday, shortly before the meeting started, I got a message that a new clinical term was added to my personal / electronic health record. 

I'd been waiting to hear from my Ortho guy on my ankle, so I clicked and looked.  

Of course, it was not from him. Even the above image tells you that, no? 

No no..........I get this.......

I'm a fairly smart man, but all I got from that was "left eye".  So naturally I click on the info button - 2 minutes before my meeting is to start.  

Bad Move. 

Benign Tumors and Eye Cancer, 

Now THOSE words, I understand!

Just then, my Chair joined the call. It was just her and myself for a few and she asked how things were. I was not sure and kind of chuckled when I read to her what I was reading in real time.  She laughed - but at what she thought (and i hoped) - at the absurdity. 

Now, back in 2020, my Optho guy told me I had something potentially wrong that we'd keep an eye on. I swear on my mother's grave (which I can now say!) that he said it was a weird kind of glaucoma related issue. 

5-6 months back, he mentioned nothing had changed and he was good where I was, but we'd continue to check. 

Eye Cancer was never discussed.  

That said, it wouldn't have surprised me that much if he did. You all know my history (kind of) - go in for my appendix, leave with bone cancer.  Have a hearing loss, they check for a brain tumor.  Debilitating headache, they check for a brain tumor. Weird dots on my tongue, they check for mouth and throat cancer. Lipoma taken off my head, but they checked for tumor. 

My check-up co-pays alone could fund MD Anderson and Sloan Kettering. 

I went about my meeting and eventually messaged the doc. He got right back to me saying we discussed this in 2020 (liar!)  and in 2022 and that all was status quo.  ....and that........and I quote........"in my 24 years seeing patients, I have never had a patient where one progressed to melanoma". 

Yay? 

I mean........c'mon........law of averages.......

Song by: Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons

My Music Monday

Same song title all month. Different songs. Different artists. 

The title is "Drive".   This week's artist are the Cars. 

I got to see the band in 1978 as they were just coming on to the scene. They were mid-pack at a rock festival in Cleveland. Eddie Money opened, then Todd Rundgren, then the Cars, then Bob Welch (!), who was right before his previous band, Fleetwood Mac. 

Honestly, I remember the Cars being LOUD. And I remember Fleetwood Mac. For the rest of it, I was kind of - in 1978 terms - wasted. 

One of their biggest hits - if not the biggest hit - it was released in 1984. Benjamin Orr took lead vocals. I always appreciated the songs Orr fronted than the ones Ric Ocasek took center stage.   .....even though Ocasek did write this. 

Like last week's selection (and next week's), there is a rhythm that runs through the song. No real change in tempo at all.

A few notes about the video - it was directed by Timothy Hutton. And it stars Ocasek's not yet girlfriend, turned wife, turned (almost?) ex-wife, model Paulina Porizkova.  While separated, Ocasek died while staying with her, but after he cut her out of his will.  So............he seems nice. 

Boom

I'm 100% sure I couldn't have picked a worse movie for a Saturday night.  

I mean, I suppose I could have picked some slasher movie that makes me cringe not just due to gore, but the by-the-numbers tiresome film making. 

Instead, I picked  tick......tick......BOOM!.  A frickin' Lin Manuel Miranda directed musical about a frickin' musical. 

The mundanely made slasher movie might have proved a better selection. 

Why I did this, I have no idea. You've all read I'm no fan of musicals - especially more modern day ones where things are all so generic and by-the-numbers tiresome songs and arrangements. 

tick x2 Boom is a semi(?) biography of Jonathan Larson, who created Rent, which this movie is about that play's semi-creation. I don't think you want me to start on the void that is that play.  

I found the main character's mini-rant about the mega-musicals on Broadway having no originality when Rent itself is an adaptation of La Bohème. Dying of TB seems less painful than sitting through Rent or this movie. Naturally, being Broadway in the early 90s, there is an AIDS thread, which is done fairly well. 

The songs are mundane. The continual breaking down the fourth wall is tiring. 

Andrew Garfield - one of the many Spidermen - did a decent job. I think he had the energy and talent, but I don't think the material was there with which to work. 

Miranda loves Broadway and musicals, so a lot is over the top. And he uses folks from that genre, including a number of folks from Hamilton and other shows. A lot of cameos from Broadway stalwarts. The one casting that actually worked was Bradley Whitford as Stephen Sondheim. Miranda mostly wastes Judith Light. 

The movie probably isn't bad for folks who like or appreciate the genre. It's just not me. I have no excuse or explanation for picking it. This was all on me. 

2022 Movie Count / Goal: 11 of 15

Song by: X Ambassadors

Kiss

Busy work week.  Aren't they all anymore? 

Puppies make it all better. 

I will take as many kisses as Shep wants to give me. 

Corgi butt. 

Shep does love his backyard. 

I got to play fetch with Olive. She's a good girl. 

Mr. Man wanting to get in the car to leave daycare and get home!

Song by: Prince & the Revolution

Zero

It has been an exhausting week. 

Yesterday, I literally had meetings from 07:30 until 16:00.  No breaks. I actually got nothing done at all. Yeah, I had a few decent discussions, but nothing that I had to do actually got completed. Some didn't even get started. 

And I'm tired. 

So my creative juices are gone. 

Oh, tried to attach a pic. Something in Blogger is not allowing this.   

Bother

Shopping with Blobby

Yet another installment in the drudgery that is everyday shopping. The camera-phone makes it a bit more fun - though I get looks whenever I take pics of products. Like I care what people think!  

Listen - straight men like chocolate too. One just has to be creative to have them buy it. 

My brother-in-law was in charge of birthday dessert a few months back for my sister. They've basically given up sugar but don't gloat about it. And they were having guests over, so you gotta get birthday cake of some sort, right?

I mean, they invited me and everyone knows that I haven't given up sugar.  So he got these things called F-Bombs. 

Homos and others call them 'truffles'. Since my brother-in-law was the one who get the F-Bombs, I'd say their marketing department nailed that campaign. 

How else does one get a football loving, golf playing guy to purchase truffles?  Imply the word 'fuck' and some guys will be grabbing for their wallet. 

The things is: they're good. 

Better yet:  portion control.  I'd eat a huge piece of cake, but instead two F-Bombs and I'm set. 

The above you see are only some of the flavours.  Raspberry are good. Peanut butter is a bit much - and I love peanut butter. The birthday cakes ones (not shown) have a semi-creme center. The traditional ones - chocolate over chocolate are great too. 

I haven't tried red velvet (ick), cheesecake or cookie dough. Nor do I plan to. 

I know they're still sugar, but when I have them, which I can make that small box last weeks at a time, they satisfy my sweet tooth. 

Shots

'Tis the season. 

Flu season, unfortunately. 

I mean, it's at least approaching. It's not like Halloween, where things have been "on sale" since July. No, this season goes on for months with it not truly hitting until sometimes the first of the year. 

But it is the time, in theory, to get a flu shot.  

I got mine on Monday. 

2022-2023 might be different stories than 2020-2022. Everyone had been wearing masks all the time, and while not eliminating the flu, cases were cut down significantly, and almost nary a person died from it. Covid, yes. Flu, no. 

But butthole, Pappy Joe, said the pandemic was "over". Not that the WHO, CDC or any other medical overseeing body has said anything similar. Even before that, people have been fairly lax about wearing masks. 

Fewer masking opportunities means increased flu potential.  

I'm not 100% sure I've actually ever had the flu. Bu I will say, my annual January cold has not happened the last two years, and I'm chalking it up to masks and social distancing. 

Covid Omnicron AB is out there - kicking ass. You're not gonna die from it, or even be hospitalized. But it will keep you down for a week. I've had staff dropping like flies. 

Which brings me to my next shot. If you don't get the new Covid booster and flu shot on the same day - you must wait two weeks between jabs.  I hear this booster can get to you. My last two have been fine - non-eventful even. I'm hoping that's the case, but we'll find out in two weeks or so. 

Song by:  Imagine Dragons

Hurricane

I suppose I'm somewhat obligated to write about Hurricane Ian. 

I feel for some Floridians, of course, but overall, I don't care.  

You can blame Ron DeSantis on that.

 While he's governor - or g-d forbid president - I won't set foot in the state or give them a dime. Not even for disaster relief. 

To be fair, DeSantis has eschewed the idea that the government should be handing out money for disasters..........until now.......when he wants it. He's a fucking hypocrite who no one will call him on it, at least publicly.  That includes the media. 

My dream - and I do have them - is for Pappy Joe to visit the state with picture after picture of DeSantis with him, assessing damage and asking for the $$$.  If Pappy Joe were smart - and I'm not sold on that - he'd have his arm around DeSantis every single photo op possible. 

While DeSantis claims to be (or for) Christian, he certainly doesn't act like one. They never do. Quelle Surprise. 

But for all the right and conservative Christians historically blaming weather on the heathens and homos for the destruction brought upon "them", maybe this is the case:  flying refugees in from Texas, who weren't even trying to get into Florida, and using tax dollars as a political stunt and sending them to Cape Cod......well, maybe g-d is fucking with you for fucking with him and spewing hate. 

Like all the gays who brought on Katrina and the poor others of Louisiana had to suffer for that debauchery, so must the innocents of Florida for their governor's actions. 

If you've been to Naples, Captiva or Sanibel, there aren't really people of need there. Yes, some have last year's Mercedes, so of course that is unfortunate, but they had the ways and means to get to safety and leave as necessary.  That they now don't have water or power does not pull on my heart strings. If they have pets, yes, I'd pay to rescue those, but leave the people behind. 

I feel for the people who had nothing beforehand and had nowhere or no way to go. Any Federal funds aren't going to help them, as not one cent will be coming their way.  ....just the way the state government wants anyway. 

The reality is, more than 50% of those who voted, knowingly voted for a dickweed of a candidate. You get a man of hate in power and you find out how much less people care about the people who support such a person. So sorry for the minorty who are caught in the wake, but it happens. 

Yes FEMA is going to give the state money. I'd like them to have DeSantis grovel for it a bit. It's close to election time. It's time the Dems start getting their hands dirty, like the Gov did a few weeks back to help his polling. Biden should be hitting the road each Dem candidate at every devastated site - and crop out Ron anytime he's around. 

But he won't.  

BTW, the other choice for governor:  Charlie Crist.  

J.F.C. Florida - you really know how to pick 'em. Are you sure Jeb Bush can't run again? 

Song by: Bob Dylan

My Music Monday

Same song title. Different song. 

That's the premise for October. 

Honestly, I didn't have a theme, but I stumbled across a blues-ish song called "Drive" by Joe Bonamassa from a half-decade ago.  

It clicked about how many songs I have that have the title "Drive". So it seemed an easy thing to do.  Sue me, sometimes the blog has to be easy

If I were back to running, this would totally be on my playlist. It has a steady beat to which one could keep a good pace.  Maybe in a few weeks I'll b able to test out that theory. 

Unknown Brother

We did our gay civic duty and went out to a cinema to see Bros. 

I haven't seen the box office tally for opening weekend, I can just say, including us, there were four folks in the theater. 

Honestly, when you're official movie website is sixth (!) in choices when typing 'bros movie' into Goooooogle, you might have some issues. 

And the movie has some issues. 

I could wait till the end of this post, but doing right now. It's a C.  And I'm being generous. 

710 said he felt a certain disloyalty ranking it so low, but being queer watching a queer movie doesn't give the creators a free pass. 

There are slight spoilers ahead, but honestly, if you have seen any rom-com, you know how it turns out before the coming attractions finish. 

The premise is tried and true - and all been done before. Most of it in When Harry Met Sally.....right down the walk turning into a run, to the big event, when you finally realize your true feeling after all.  Hell, they even stick another Meg Ryan rom-com clip right into the movie. 

2x4?  Here's my head.  Do your thing. 

I do love that the entire cast (at least the primary and secondary players) are all queer. That's not a small feat. Some of them not used nearly enough. 

But if we have to draw an issue to the film - and we do - it's the co-writer and co-star, Billy Eichner. 

I loved Billy on the Street. Eichner's screaming manic behaviour was great for the 5-7 minutes the shows lasted.  Ditto with his scenes in Parks & Recreation. On the big screen, he doesn't work. Not in a lead role. Not in a lead romantic role. 

While he's not really screaming at the beginning of the movie, there is that mania where he just won't shut up and quite frankly it's exhausting to the viewer. And this is coming from someone who likes him. And compared to his co-stars, he's quite stilted in his acting and delivery. 

Luke Macfarlane - whom I've never heard of or seen - was infinitely better. And easy easy easy on the eyes. 

It's petty, but Eichner's overly styled to make it look not styled at all facial hair and the dime store glasses he wears make him non-appealing. But it's mostly his acting. 

I get, and you get, all the points they're trying to make, but it just falls flat. 

I have to believe Debra Messing being in it and addressing her at all times with both names was a contractual obligation on someone's part. It's unfortunate that they took an opportunity with her and blew it. They do absolutely nothing with it at all.  

So, I guess at least one person in the movie isn't queer. 

I did like a lot of the LGBTQ+ cast. I thought in some terms they did a great job with the roles given. Bowen Yang from SNL ?   Meh. 

One huge downer:  the original song that Billy Eichner sings. Yes, the cast had tears in their eyes, so did I, but I suspect for different reasons. 

You might want to wait till Bros hits a streaming service before you shell out and go to the movies. 

Speaking of Spoilers:  in the new George Clooney / Julia Roberts movie where they play contentious ex-spouses?  They totally end up together.  It's not out yet, and I won't see it when it is, but mark my words. 

2022 Movie Count / Goal: 10 of 15

Song by: the Black Keys

It Takes Two

I won't lie. It's weird doing a pet post with one less pet. Not only that - no cats at all. 

Now and then I'd toss a picture of my sister's cat, Wally, here. As it turns out, Wally went a few days before Sophie. We didn't know that until we met my sister down at Bow Wow Beach. She's had cats longer than we, so we are all feline-less currently.   ....at least for now. 

And while clearly we love Shep, I'll have to think about this differently in the long run. I like mixing it up with The Little Man, and others.  We shall see how Saturdays morph over the next few months, I guess. 

Chillaxin' Shep

This is Elsie. 

So small, her 'mom' had a bootlace for a leash attached to a kitten collar. 

The mom said she didn't know what kind of dog Elsie was, but I'm pretty sure there is a lot of pitbull in there. 

Shep and Bailey go for a swim. 

Blobby is conquered........again. 

This is Olive, my friend Bob's dog. 

She is a love!

Don't know who these are, but they are frickin' holding court where the Weimaraner's hang. 

I don't even think that foursome will fuck with these two. 

Song by: Marvin Gaye & Tammy Weston

Record of the Month

I figured I'd do a monthly 'what I'm listening to' kind of thing. This could be viewed as a lame placeholder kind of post. And probably it is. But it's my blog! So there!  

It has been a long while since I did a music post - well, a record post. 2022 has not been stellar for music purchases. But lately, I've bought a few items and can safely review until the end of the year.  Like it or not. 

The Smithereens have a "new" disk out.......the Lost Album.  It's exactly what it sounds like.  The band, in between record labels still found a way to record an album - not just demos - that never got released. 

710 and I were in central Florida back in December 2017 to see a SpaceX launch when I heard of guitarist and lead singer, Pat DiNizio's death. It was a bummer, as I really liked them and DiNizio's voice. 

I purchased most of their original material. For a while they got into covers - though they did an excellent song-by-song cover of Meet the Beatles and called it Meet the Smithereens.  They also covered the Who's Tommy - though I did not buy that. 

Actually, their last original disk was back in 2011. So, while this 1993 recording isn't an out of the park collection, it's nice to hear and nice to have. 

They start strong with "Out of this World", had the band had a label in '93, it could have easily been pushed as a "single". 

"Stop Bringing Me Down" starts with a rougher, grittier guitar sound very very similar to "Iron Man". "I'm Sexy" is tongue-in-cheek, but I like it a lot. Ditto with "Pretty Little Lies". 

There are duds. "Dear Abby" isn't great and unfortunately, it's the second song on the disk. It should have been buried further. 

Some of the songs measure up to some of their better known work, it's unfortunate with 'radio' the way it is, most will never hear these songs. Most don't remember the band anyways, so it will make it that more difficult to find success or even exposure. 

I was happy to shell out the $11 for the digital copy. The CD on amazon?  $24 !!    What actual Ford 150!

Like a Stone

Six months. 

That's how long I've been back at the gym, albeit a new one from the last 5-year-go-round. 

Unlike last time, I have tried to keep my posts to a minimum, but in my mind (a dangerous place to be) upon joining, I thought, "oh, I could give an update every half year". 

This is it. 

Save vacation and / or being out of town, I go to the gym daily. Even if staying at hotel, I hit their gyms as well. At first, I was "only" going six days per week, but I found a way to make Mondays work - and it's cardio only. No lifting. That way I can still shower and make my every Monday 07:00 meeting. 

It is unfortunate that with exercise I'm either all in or all out. Either way is excessive, and while I see it im myself and understand it, I am unwilling to change behaviour and have made peace with going daily. I think it has helped me from doubling my anti-depressant, which I considered doing. 

I've come to enjoy music again - and get it listen to it for 60-75 minutes per day. I've stopped forwarding music. Bad or good, I listen to everything. 

My goal is / was, to lose 22 lbs and to tone up. It's the vanity thing. Not the Vanity thing. I don't make such a pretty mess on my dress. But like Vanity, I do like seven inches or more. 

I had a timeline for my goal too:  IMMEDIATELY.  

 .....but that didn't happen.  Bother. 

Actually, I knew it wouldn't.  Age. Metabolism. Diet - or lack there of, all play a part in thwarting me.  It was gonna be a slog, and it is. 

To make myself not crazy (hush!), I opted to only weigh myself once per month. The 27th of each month, since I started on the 26th or 27th of March.  I did miss my August weigh-in since I was on vacation. 

710 says not to obsess on the weight thing. I get it - and yet I do, to a degree. In 30 days, I expect (read: want) to see some measurable progress, but that doesn't always happen.  By July I had lost 14 pounds - or 'a stone' as the Brits might say.  As of the other day, it was back to 12. 

I attribute two things to this:  vacation - where I didn't eat that much differently, I did drink daily. The second part was the foot thing.  The boot. The no running. The little walking I even did on vacation. 

But a lot of it comes down to the running. Or not running, as the case may be. 

It's been since mid-August since I really ran. I tried thrice since, but the thrice-time, had an adverse reaction, so I'm back to resting and resetting.  Still, a lot of that 14 came off when I really found my stride. As you can see, I've taken to rowing, which has a lot less impact on my foot and ankle. 

This is where I obsess about my weight and feel a little defeated (yeah yeah, I know what you're gonna say, but I do) when I gained back 2 pounds. Granted, I was wearing a pair of underwear when I weighed myself, but even I can't pass them off as lead-lined panties. 

I suppose some of this could be muscle, which allegedly weighs more than fat.  ALLEGEDLY. 

Defeated I am not. I still have a goal. Goals. 

The other is definition: mainly of chest and arms. It's coming. Not as quickly as it did in 2009, but I'm seeing it. S-l-o-w-l-y.  Abs are another thing - altogether (you know what to do!).  Blobby is not made for a 6-pack, unless it is beer.  Flatter is better, the abs, not the beer. Showing any abdominal muscles is something else that probably won't be achieved in my lifetime. 

I think I like the gym?  Sometimes with compulsion comes blurred lines. I need the routine, and it soothes me, but it's not the same as 'like', though they are necessarily exclusive to each other. 

So, while you get tales from the gym - hopefully amusing ones - there might not be an update like this for 6 more months.  .....though maybe something thrown in for my year-end post.  One never knows. 

On a final note - why not a before and during (it's not after...........not yet) shot. 

I'm not even sucking it in during the last picture.  I think it (ha. "it" = me!) looks a little better. Yes, 12 down (10 to go!) and some firming up here and there. I won't be joining any body building tournaments or Only Fans anytime soon (read: at all), but who know - March 2023, I might be where I want. 

Song by: Audioslave  (though thanks to Morty, for the last 20 yrs, I call them Audiosalve)

Baggy Trousers

I went quasi-annual clothes shopping over the weekend.

FAIL. 

I'll back up a bit. I don't know what gays like to go shopping, I don't know any of them. I know some exist for the love of 'retail', but g-d help me, I think I'd rather have a cavity drilled without novocaine than go to stores, try on clothes and purchase them. 

Such as it is, I go only when absolutely necessary. Or every other year - whichever comes first. And even then.........even though I take myself, I swear I have to drag the proverbial me kicking and screaming from the car to the store. 

In theory, I know what I want. In reality, I have no idea how to get it.  

Ok, that's a big fat lie.  I'm inpatient, so I become rash, quick and I end up making horrible and pricey choices just to end the event. 

I knew I needed some dress shirts for work. We have a LOT of them. Or had. They're dwindling. I don't know if we have sharp elbows or if the dry cleaning solutions fuck them up, or if it's just age - the shirts, not us - but we go through these spurts of ripped elbows. Almost always the left one. 

I'm like Bruce Banner.  Unfortunately the Bill Bixby one, not the Mark Ruffalo one. 

710 and I kind of found a size we both could use, doubling our shirt wardrobe, but in reality, some of the shirts I was kind of drowning in. So, I had the clerk measure me, and I got some better fitting shirts for me. 

Pants - ugh. Different story.  I don't have any pants which I like. I don't need for them to show off my junk or show off the curve of my butt, but I don't need them sagging like I have a Depends beneath them either.

710 suggested a store to go, and get them fitted. When he says things like that it sounds reasonable. When I go and do it, I considered him a lunatic. 

What does Blobby do?  Grab five pair of pants - not the alterable kind - try them on, reject two, buys three, but doesn't like any of them.  This is spurred on by coming out of the dressing room and having wives, mothers and girlfriends back there waiting for their husbands, sons or boyfriends to come out to model their wear. 

Get the fuck out of my way and away from the mirror.  Yes, there were no mirrors in the dressing rooms. And better yet, get out of the Men's dressing room.  Period.   I'm frustrated (clearly!) so, I grab my pants, and the shirts which I've picked, and go to the register.  The total, in my mind, is ridiculous. But it's Apple Pay so it doesn't feel like I'm really spending a thing with my face. 

At the check out, I see the racks of unaltered pants. Dozens of them. I'm thinking I should stop this transaction and go over there and do what I should have done in the first place. But I feel I'm too far gone. And you know, I don't want to be there for 38 more seconds.  So I'm not. 

I wasn't even out of the parking lot when I rationalized, I will bring back each pair of pants. I didn't like one of them, yet I had three of them. I heard the clerk tell someone else they had a 90 (!!!) day return policy, as long as the tags were on them. 

On them?  They're not even out of the bag, or out of my car. 

I'm wondering if I can talk myself into going back into a store within the next 90 days to even make the return. 

.....and we didn't even talk shoe shopping!

Song by: Madness

Jupiter: The Bringer of Jollity

Lots going on in astronomy these days, eh?

Today (?) Jupiter is the closest it's been to earth since right after I was born.   ......that was in 1963, btw. 

If you haven't seen the morning sky, I suggest you do so. There it is, in all it's glory, impossible to miss. It's tres impressive. 

__________

Hurricane Ian is postponing the launch of an unmanned Artemis rocket and moving it back to the VAB for safety. Once again, it shan't be heading to the moon anytime soon - though I think that's a waste, myself.  Ian itself sounds like it's gearing up to be a whopper of a story, though probably not bigger than the one that is the eye of Jupiter. 

__________

And last but not least, if you've every seen Armageddon, Deep Impact or Don't Look Up, you've already seen the fictional and much more (?) entertaining versions of NASA launching a rocket to blow up an asteroid headed towards earth. 

I mean, c'mon. a Téa Leoni / Elijah Woods / Tasha Yar Denise Crosby vehicle.  How that didn't clean up at the Oscars is beyond me. I mean, Morgan Freeman was President !!!!  We're talking about Deep Impact by the way.  If it's on, and my husband is home, we're watching it. Well, he is. 

Anyways, NASA flew a probe / spaceship / rocket into an inconsequential asteroid to see if they could nudge it off course or out of orbit. The movies always tried to blow it up, but that's what hiring Bruce Willis as your lead will get ya (that's Armageddon, don'tcha know).

We watched it live. I was less than impressed, but that more from the shiteous feed that NASA had. It will be a while before they knew if it was a success. 

It didn't have an Aerosmith theme song, so in my eyes, it already was a success. 

Song by: Richard Wagner

My Music Monday

This month's theme is just one of the blog titles from the past week. 

With two queens passing recently, I'll stick with the title track of the Smith's album the Queen is Dead.  

That album just ranks as one of my favourite albums of the '80s. I don't judge my close friends on their music choices (I mean, unless they really really like "Friday" by Rebecca Black........but if they do, they're probably no longer my friend), but most, if not all my close friends have this album, and have since its original release date. 

The thing is, when it came out, it was never a point of discussion. We listened to it in the solitude of our own dwellings, which is kind of apropos for listening to the Smiths, no? 

We do talk about it now. Not like all the time, but as we discuss music the disk will invariably come up somewhere in the conversation.  And in one of my two karaoke appearances in the last 35 years, I did get up and sing "There's a Light That Never Goes Out".  And I did it sober.  Granted, none but two at this party knew me and I was leaving town the next day, so why the fuck not. 

B.T.W. :  I nailed it!      ....and there is no video to prove otherwise. 

Oddly, the title track here might be the weakest on the disk, but by no means bad. 

Bury Me Under the Weeping Willow

Listen, I know I'm getting older. 

It is not just that things start hurting for no reason - but they totally do.  It's not just that my husband likes to remind me when the temp gets into the high 50s and then follows up with....."just like you!...." 

On THE day I turned 49, I got my first unsolicited AARP mailing.  In the last year, I started getting Medicare mail - you know, because old people can't work computers. 

Mind you, 710 is three years older than myself, and HE doesn't get Medicare mail!

So, I was a bit amused and a bit put off when I got snail mail from Lake View Cemetery. 

Yes.....you read that correctly. 

You've read my a-tale here of going to Lake View. My friends geocached there. Shep and Petey have had their pictures taken on Daffodil Hill (Petey getting into the paper for it).  Eliot Ness, James Garfield and John D. Rockefeller are interred there. 

I guess it's a great place to turn back into dust, but burial is not my plan. Nor would it be there anyway. My family is buried in the adjoining cemetery.   ......but they're out of room there. But still..........not the plan. 

To be clear:  *I* got the mail. It wasn't to "Occupant" or "Current Resident". It. Was. Addressed. To. Me. 710 didn't get one. 

What the fuck. Do they know something that I don't?

That all said - it is an elaborate mailer with a wheel of decisions on which section to take your big dirt nap. I like that one is 'history buff' as if that's isn't spread out over the entire acreage, not just section 64. 

Friends Chef Bob and Nurse Matt were even married in the Jebtha Wade Chapel there (yes, in a cemetery!) ....not that we were invited. Wade made his fortune founding Western Union.  ....but I digress.  I think. 

Yes, aging and death are inevitable, but c'mon............

Oh yeah, whichever one of you fuckers is left alive when I die has to take my ashes to Ogunquit, Maine and spread them on the Marginal Way. It's a somewhat lengthy path, so make sure you parse them out as needed. 

Song by: Rosanne Cash

Goodbye Angel

EIIR was not the only HRH we lost last week. 

Unfortunately, we had to say goodbye to Sophie over a week ago. I opted not to put it in last Saturday's pet post, as it was far too early to process. 

I still might be in denial. 

I know you all love seeing pictures of her over the last 16+ years, and I'm thanking you (and in advance) for any condolences. I might not have the heart or state of mind to do it with each one of you - so forgive me in advance. 

We got Sophie at around 4-5 months old. She was all of 2.2 lbs and completely imperfect, which was perfect for us. She came to us with broken tail and two deformed front paws........not that it ever slowed her down. 

Truth be told, I had my eye on another brown-haired tabby, but 710 said that the kitty kold she had might not show her true personality. Sophie fka Fabiano (or as 710 called her, "our little Italian shoe maker") didn't have a cold (she totally did, but didn't manifest until after she got to her new home). 

Her name came due to Sophie's Choice. Not that we were going to have her offed by the Nazis, but that 10 days in we could not pick a name. As she was selected to have a great home (it was a no-kill shelter....settle down!), when we took her to the doc for her cold and they asked us her name, it kind of came out. We both nodded when we heard it. 

Sophie came to us due to Kylie passing 6 months earlier. Tovah would roam the house HOWLING after Kylie was gone. We thought she needed a companion. This is a thought that we rethought a few weeks after getting Soph. 

Poor Tovah. TORTURED by Sophie. Less than three pounds and was the alpha cat. Honestly, had Tovah just whacked her a few times, I think that would have been good for all. They semi-made peace, but Sophie seemed to be boss. I gave Tov a lot more affection because of this. 

We also only took Petey on the condition that Sophie would allow it - and they'd get along. I knew Petey was fine with cats. We just didn't know the other way. I would have said they ignored each other and there was a distance, but scrolling through pictures, Sophie was way close to him a lot. 

That paved way for Shep, of course. We wasted a month not forcing them together, Sophie staying upstairs. Once we physically brought her out, save a few chases, things were fine. These two pretty much did ignore each other. I'd have liked more snuggling (read: any), but it beats a dog with a high prey drive and aggression. 

Like all of our cats, with us, Sophie was very social and talkative. Unlike our others, she came out and hung around when guests were here. There were people before who swore we never had pets, as they never saw them. 

Like the other cats though, Sophie wasn't big on being a lap cat or being held too too much. She'd sidle up next to you and lay there, but she wasn't one for snuggling most of the time. Like Tovah, she was good about lying on your chest when in bed. They both had the upper paw that way. 

Holiday time 2020, we were told Sophie only had a week or so to live.  Clearly that was a misdiagnosis. But she was ailing. Getting her to eat was constant challenge. Wet. Dry. Treats only. Real people salmon or tuna. Sometimes grilled chicken. Along with medications to stimulate her appetite until they no longer did. 

Much of her life she was a little Rubenesque, but in the end she probably weighed 5lbs. It was time. And she couldn't process water or food at this point. 

Of course, we are heartbroken. But we did the right thing at the right time. I've always questioned this with the others, but not this time - though I was tempted to hold off. 

Like all the others, that last day they rally and come back to life. 

I love that and I hate it. It makes me re-question our decision. But I put it in a different perspective that morning when Sophie would not leave me alone and wanted my cereal milk for the first time in months. This time I talked myself into it was a thank you for helping her. This was something she could not do on her own and needed us to be true to her in our quest for love, companionship and humanity. 

The vet experience is never fun.  Ever. And we had a seemingly newly graduated vet who was kind and overly clueless as to why we were there. So that annoyed me, but I needed some outlet, I suppose and she became the target. 

Unlike Kylie and Tovah, I kept my tears in check. Oh, I cried. I just didn't bawl. I think that was mostly due to being the right thing at the right time. 

I said my goodbyes and how much I loved her and thanked her for 16+ years of wonder. And I meant every syllable. 

Until 9-10 days ago, it's been over 30 years since we haven't had a cat in our house. So this is weird of us. Many times I have gone to give my cereal milk to her, and of course, she isn't there. I haven't really finished my own cereal milk in decades. One of the cats always got it.

Shep seems oblivious to her lack of presence. 

Sophie is no longer physically with us, though she will always be mindfully and spiritually. 

Saturdays will look different around this blog. 

Song by: Fleetwood Mac

Fall on Me

Well the readers were not wrong, I was off by at least a day on Summer to Autumn. They were correct to correct me. 

As it turns out, the last day of Summer hit 83F in the 216.  When Autumn officially arrived, it OFFICIALLY arrived. 

66 was the high for the first day. And we hit that before I left for the gym, which is at 04:45.  It ended up going down to 54. 

Basically a 30 degree drop in a 24 hour period. 

Bother. 

It's not that I mind 54-66 weather. I wasn't really prepared for it, even though I was. I read the weather report - kind of. I focused on the temps and if there'd be any rain. I just didn't consider the wind. 

My lunchtime walk was chilly. But I still did it, because I still need to lose weight and it is the only time I get out of my office. It is as important mentally as physically. 

At least on the walk to my car is was sunny. Ditto, for the most part, on the evening dog walk. You can see the clouds and the chill in the air. 

Shep is loving it. 710 said he stayed outside for almost five hours yesterday morning, refusing to come in. Hey - I'm glad he's enjoying as much time outdoors as possible. 

So I sit here writing this while wearing fuzzy pants with dogs on them, and a shirt with long sleeves. Yesterday (now two days ago) it was shorts and a t-shirt. 

No doubt we will have other days in the 70s and 80s, but it sure feels like Fall now. 

Song by R.E.M.

Whammy Kiss

It wasn't a good day for BLOTUS & Co - and for that I am happy. 

I've said it before though: if you're gonna hit the king; you'd better kill the king. 

Clearly, he is not royalty except for the joker or flush king. And he's not all that funny. Fuck knows I haven't bee laughing since 2015's announcement of running for office. 

With the NY charges, it's not "staggering" fraud charges (well it kind of is) and it's potential $250MM fine, it is the additional penalty of being "permanently barred from serving as officers or directors in any New York company". 

Perfect. 

I mean, I think the Feckless Cunt relocated to America's Wang anyway, no doubt to practice her short game on mommy's grave. That, and anyone she knew in NY pretends like she doesn't exist. 

Jr is too coked up to even know where he is; and their brother is too stupid to know where he is. 

But for the double whammy: the courts gave access to the Mar-a-Lago files back to the DOJ. 

While I haven't really read a lot of any of this - I'm sure / guessing the words "witch hunt" were used. I'm tired of the laws only applying to others or that "news" outlets don't point that out during interviews. They're so afraid that family won't talk to them at all, they avoid actual news. 

Still, state charges aren't open for pardon, so..............ha. And I'm thinking a felony leaves someone out of 2024. Well, that and sweet sweet death. 

Listen.......a boy can dream!

Song by: the B-52's