Musing, blogging, reflecting, affirming, complaining, documenting
Bob and I do this, all the while joking that we didn’t live through the depression but our parents did.
We hang them on the clothes rack on the porch to dry, and we 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 reuse bags that were used to marinate! 😂 (We actually rarely, if ever, use plastic bags for marinating. We have Tupperware for that.)
It smells like standing next to your grandmother who — even hours earlier — applied a quarter-cupful of floriferous perfume to her cleavage.
If you miss that, good news!
You can relive it every time you freshen the air in your washroom with this brand and scent:
Whew! It’s a lot.
In the past, I’ve created mindmaps for 4 operas before going to see them:
I’m going to see Madama Butterfly in a couple of weeks, and I’ve been wanting to create one for it, but being lazy and because we can, I thought, “Why don’t I ask AI to draw me one?”
This is what it came up with after a lot of prompt refinement.
Although I have absolutely no drawing talent, I kinda like my own creations better. 😂
In bed one morning — many, many years ago now — a partner asked me if I knew that I often have my hand touching some part of my face while sleeping.
I think of this often, in fact almost every time I wake up and discover I’m doing it. The two most common scenarios are: 1) one or two fingers on my cheek or 2) my thumb and forefinger like a horseshoe around my chin.
I hadn’t realized I do that, so naturally, I did some research on it. And I find one of the reasons very interesting.
The research says:
There is a recognized correlation between sleeping with your hands touching your face and the behaviors established in the womb. This sleeping position is considered a form of self-soothing that mimics the comfort, warmth, and security experienced during fetal development.
We’re getting ready to go on a Caribbean cruise by Vacaya, a company that creates inclusive LGBT+ vacations, and in this case is chartering Holland America Line’s Nieuw Statendam for a 7-day cruise to Grand Turk, San Juan, Charlotte Amalie (St. Thomas) and & Half Moon Cay (Bahamas).
I was just reading the FAQs and found these items interesting and unique.
Lanyards
When boarding Nieuw Statendam, you’ll be greeted by several V[acaya] Team members who’ll give you a choice of 3 different colored lanyards — red, yellow, or green.
Not only will the lanyard hold your room key card (especially helpful when in a swimsuit without pockets), but it’ll also help tell a part of your story at a glance:
| RED – I’m happily taken and off the market, but definitely open to new friends. |
| YELLOW – I’m magical and mysterious. Ask for my deets. |
| GREEN – I’m open and ready to mingle. |
We recognize you’ll be making a lanyard decision on Day 1 that might look a little different by Day 3. If you decide later that you’d like a different color, please swing by the VACAYA Hospitality Desk when open (hours are listed in your daily program) and we’ll be happy to offer an alternative while supplies last.
Nudity
Parties: Our theme parties will provide you with endless opportunities to show off your style with imaginative costumes. Just keep in mind that your penis and balls and your vagina have to be covered. But by all means don’t be afraid of the exciting world of sheer fabrics… we love them! Because Lido Market will be open late into the night (and we know you’re going to want a burger at 2am), we ask that if you’re wearing a costume that exposes your butt cheeks, that you wrap a towel around yourself while dining. Towels will be available near the entrance of the dining hall.
The pool deck: Just like with the men, women are allowed to use the Lido Pool or Sea View Pool topless. If anyone would like to sunbathe fully nude, please use our Clothing Optional Sun Deck while at sea. Please note that nude sunbathing is not allowed on the Clothing Optional Sun Deck when we’re docked alongside the pier.
Restaurant dress: Tank tops in the main restaurants for dinner aren’t the best choice. Let’s be real… only a few of us (and we applaud you fetishists) would want to see a hairy armpit while enjoying filet mignon and lobster.
Clothing optional sun deck
VACAYA will offer a clothing optional space onboard where sun lovers can sunbathe in the nude. We’ll have details of the exact location shortly before the cruise. The clothing optional sun deck is only available on Sea Days. While in all of our ports, swimsuits are required on the upper decks.
And obviously… we ask that cameras not be used in this area.
Red light district
Our Red Light District will be open nightly (with the exception of Night 1 and Night 7) from 11pm till the wee hours. We ask all guests to be respectful in regard to cleanliness. Supplies, towels, and trash receptacles will be readily available; please use them. A simple rule to ensure we’re able to continue offering the RLD: if you make a mess, clean it up. Also…
Be polite and respectful.
This should go without saying, but no means no. Whether that “no” is verbal, physical, or simply one’s attitude, if someone seems disinterested, leave them alone. Don’t try to initiate play if someone is walking away, shaking their head, pushing your hand away, or otherwise declining via body language. Don’t be pushy or rude. You’ll be asked to leave the space if you are.
Understand that consent is sometimes non-verbal.
To put a finer point on the above: if someone is blindfolded and on all fours, they’re likely giving you non-verbal consent to have sex with them. If a guy is standing there with his dick in his hand, he’s giving you non-verbal consent to approach and likely give him oral sex. If, however, anyone pulls away or otherwise signals a change in intent, that means they’ve declined consent, too.
These are obvious situations and pretty common, but if you’re ever unsure, it’s always acceptable to ask. Other situations, however, may not be so clear. Be aware of your body language and the body language of others, and remember that non-verbal consent gets harder to read when alcohol is involved.
That being said, please understand when entering a play space like the Red Light District, a certain degree of consent is waived.
If you walk into a space where people are having sex, you waive a degree of consent. That’s the reality of the situation. Of course, you still retain the ability to deny consent; if someone touches you, you can gently rebuff them or move their hand away. Anonymous groping and touching is a feature of these spaces, and by entering them, you will all but certainly face it. Please keep this simple rule in mind: don’t be an asshole. Don’t push yourself on someone if they’re clearly denying consent.
Understand that not everyone reads body language the same way.
If you’re in the Red Light District where talking is at a minimum and body language is the primary mode of communication, you run the risk of misreading someone’s intent – a risk everyone assumes by being there. If you have to be more direct with someone, open your mouth and speak. There is a big difference between misreading someone’s body language and ignoring a direct, verbal “no.” If the latter occurs, tell the V Team members who’ll be present at the RLD each night. Disrespecting consent isn’t sexy; it’s harassment. And pushing it too far could be criminal.
Don’t let rejection ruin your night.
Some people will want to play with you, some simply won’t. The person you’ve been looking at all night may not be in to you, and that’s okay. Accept it, and know that’s part of the reality of every play space.
Never talk about who you saw at the Red Light District, and never take photos or videos.
The Red Light District is a place people go to be uninhibited, to break loose from the morals and judgement of society, and fulfill their sexual fantasies. Respecting the privacy of others is key to maintaining that atmosphere. Talking about other attendees outside these venues reflects poorly on you, and detracts from the purpose of the space. CAMERAS ARE NOT ALLOWED IN THE RED LIGHT DISTRICT.
If you choose to have unprotected sex, assume the risks.
All sex carries some risk of HIV/STI transmission, but that risk can be minimized if you take certain precautionary measures, like using condoms or taking PrEP. Even with condoms, you’re still at risk for common sexually transmitted infections, and PrEP only protects you from HIV. This is why the official PrEP page on the CDC’s website states you should use condoms in conjunction with PrEP to protect yourself from infections like syphilis, chlamydia, and gonorrhea.
If you choose not to wear condoms, you obviously have a higher risk of getting an STI than your condom-wearing peers. That’s a simple fact. There’s no shame in it, however. It’s just a fact of sexual life today. If you enjoy anonymous play – no talk, no names, no chatter – you assume even higher risk, and such risk is absolutely part of this kind of experience.
Since risk is unavoidable, there’s no reason to let that reality prevent you from enjoying what you enjoy. Take necessary steps to keep yourself healthy. Get tested frequently. If you’re HIV+, get on meds as soon as possible and take them diligently. HIV+ people who take their medications as prescribed become undetectable, meaning HIV antibody tests can’t detect the virus in their blood, and they are unable to infect their sex partners with HIV, regardless of condom use.
Get tested for HIV and other STIs after the cruise.
If you go into the Red Light District often and regularly have sex there, please get tested after our time together. Frequent testing is how our community reduces the spread of HIV and other sexually transmitted infections.
We received this thank-you card in our mailbox from a couple we met recently at an event at our local bottle shop, Pelagic and invited them to our Pelagic Run Club Runners’ Happy Hour when they start back up after the time change in the spring.
To which I responded:
“Oh, the lost art of a hand-written thank you note! Bob and I are huge fans of them and send them regularly. (In fact, it takes everything in us not to send you a thank-you card for your thank-you card! 😂)
“Thank you for your very kind words, and we look forward to partying with y’all in 2026!”
Coincidentally, we are on our last thank-you card, so I just ordered a box of 100 of them — 25 of each of these:
Updated with 2025 entry.
One of my favorite things about keeping my sentence-a-day diary is looking back over the years on any particular day for trends. Today’s day “in history” gave me a good chuckle. I’m so food oriented! 75% of the 11 12 years worth of entries include food. 😂
In other news, it’s our 4th-year anniversary of owning our air fryer. And I guess my entry for today should include some food in it.
December 21
2025
Sunday: We prepared our snack bags to give to the kids during the Mordecai Roll & Stroll on Christmas Eve, I grilled chicken thighs on the grill that Bob had tenderized and marinated, and I read the entirety of my 129th book of 2025, Run for the Hills.
2024
Saturday: I wrote my haikus for the remaining days of 2024, my biopsy from that cauterized spot on my face came back benign, Bob made the pretzels from the mix that Vivian & Jeff gave us a few months ago, I got a free haircut with Neal’s coupon from a Hurricanes game (I tipped the stylist $10), and I grilled some Montreal-steak-marinated chicken thighs to perfection.
2023
Thursday: I created our menu for next week for a change, the earbuds and charger adapters came for our new phones, and Bob made a Chicken & Kale soup to which we added some white beans—egads!
2022
Wednesday: Cindy and I went to Wegmans while Bob visited with “the boys” (his brother and nephews) at their Airbnb (1600 Carson St.), we spent a couple of hours there this afternoon, and then everyone came to our house for African Peanut Soup for dinner and all but me played Bananagrams afterward.
2021
Tuesday: I did 2 “talkaloud edits” for Anna Lonon, did my knee stretching exercises, we got cookies in the mail from Robyn Johnson as a thank-you for my work, our air fryer (compliments of Red Hat Rewards) arrived, and I started American Gods.
2020
Monday: Bob brought our BAP (big-assed poinsettia) and some homemade treats to Nicholas Blanchard, I wrote my first three 50-word stories, and I started reading my 75th book of 2020, Girls Like Us.
2019
Saturday: Bob wrote out a bunch of holiday cards that we got to the post office by Planet Fitness just before noon, did our workout there, had dinner at the food court in Wegmans later, and went to “black-out night” at Flex, taking The R-Line there and back.
2018
Friday: I got a 40-minute walk in downtown to the post office, to the SECU (New Bern & Salisbury for $100 bills), to the library, and to DGX for a card and eggnog for our “Bourbon Outfitters” meeting, and then we met the gang out at Flex @ 10.
2017
Thursday: We had our holiday party tonight, which was very festive and well-attended with a lot of potluck foods!
2016
Wednesday: In a most unexpected move, our CFO, Frank Calderoni, announced that he’s taking a CEO job at another company, and Red Hat announced “disappointing” earnings for this quarter.
2015
Monday: Bob and I spent a couple of hours identifying recipients, addressing, stamping, and putting return address labels on envelopes, before folding our holiday letters to put in them.
2014
Sunday: Bob came over, with Frances and Vincent, and we had BLTs for dinner, with some sweet potato fries.
I’m an avid user (and fan, obviously!) of libraries. Of the 127 books I’ve read to date in 2025, 78 (61%) of them have been library books.
I don’t buy books, so the other 49 free books were sourced as:
Chart notes:
– Library = Wake County Public Libraries
– Amazon First Reads = a choice of a free early-release ebook, once a month for Amazon Prime subscribers
– BookBub = a free service offering (some) free ebooks announced by email; I only download free ones
Meanwhile, back at my local library, the Wake County Public Library, shared this year’s usage statistics:
I’m proud to have been 78 of those 11.9M loaned books. See all the books I’ve read in 2025 to date and where they came from.
Why are some pills so damn big? (A quick AI overview says for 3 reasons: higher dose of active ingredients, inactive ingredients (excipients), and targeted delivery.)
Yes, seniors are easily entertained. I was tickled when I refilled my Amlodipine prescription and the pill size had decreased:
This makes them fit better in my small pillbox:
I really don’t want to have to move to a bigger pillbox, which I actually own:
Complete aside: We will not be able to use this particular “included for size comparison” object with the next generation.
And lastly, Bob and I can never think about pills and pillboxes without remembering that time on a cruise…
I stopped by the post office to get some “love” stamps and some holiday stamps.
Two things happened while I was in line with about 8 people ahead of me:
My first thought was, “OMG, there are Betty White stamps??? Those would make perfect holiday stamps, as underneath each on the envelope, we could write, “Here’s to a White Christmas.”
I stayed in line and after getting some love stamps:
I asked the clerk for two books of Betty White stamps, to which he replied: “Those came in two weeks ago, and we were completely sold out of them in 2 hours.”
I asked if any more would be coming in before Christmas, and he said, “We have no way of knowing.” And I said, “Okay, I’ll just take the love stamps then,” paid for them and got in line for the holiday stamps at the kiosk.
The lady 4 ahead of me at the kiosk was buying 100 of them, and the machine printed 10 stamps at a time, with a few seconds between them to, I guess, load the next 10 into memory. Whatever.
Many minutes later, after wondering why they couldn’t just print more Betty White stamps, I bought 20 of the holiday stamps of which it only offered 2 of the 4 designs — the wreath and the cardinals — which I was fine with.
Place a $ by everything you have not done! For quicker scanning, I’ve also color coded mine. Of course I have!
$6 for me! Of the 6 things I haven’t done, the only one I’d be interested in doing is #37: zip lining.
How much cash do you have?
I’ve “written” and published two “books” in the past — one for our 1st anniversary and one for our 5th anniversary. Musing back at each of them on this auspicious celebration of being married 10 years.
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I’ve been “checking in” (on Facebook in the past, and now here on my blog) with a comment about exercising for 15-ish years, and I have a spreadsheet currently containing 477 entries storing the check-ins that I use. What it looks like:
I don’t use one unless it’s been at least a year since I last used it. There are just a couple of exceptions to this, which are ones that are event-related (e.g., Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the end of the calendar year).
The most I’ve used a particular check-in is 12 times, and there are 3 of them at that frequency:
AI analysis
I was curious as to the themes and frequency of words in my check-ins, so I asked Gemini AI to analyze all 477 of them. Its results:
The content primarily revolves around themes related to health, fitness, and body image. Here are the overall themes and supporting details:
Exercise and physical activity
Many entries discuss exercise routines, workouts, and general physical activity. Words like these are highly frequent, indicating a focus on physical exertion and fitness activities.
Body image and weight management
A significant portion of the content addresses concerns about body size and weight. Words like these highlight discussions around body perception and weight goals, and further emphasize the connection to weight management and eating habits.
Health and wellness concerns
With words like these, the content also touches upon broader health aspects, including interactions with healthcare professionals and personal health goals.
This 2021 blog entry answers these questions frequently asked over the years about my check-ins:
Bob and I are sticklers about sending thank-you notes, as addressed in this set of 3 50-word stories I wrote back in 2021:
Bob’s mother was a writer, and she owned this book:
It’s old now, but (most of) its principles still stand. It’s a short 27-page book, and 5 of those pages are about letters that must be written:
Of course, this day and age, this corollary is also true: “For example, it would never do for a young groom to reply on the telephone to a written dinner invitation from his wife’s employer!”
These are the 10 occasions for which a letter is a must — 3 of which are thank-you related:
“Thank you for the gift”
The receipt of even the most trifling gift must be acknowledged by letter.
“Thank you for the weekend”
You must write a “bread-and-butter letter” to your hostess to show that you have appreciated her hospitality.
“Thank you for the favor”
If a friend has shown special courtesy to a member of your family — if she has put herself out in any way to help you, it is imperative that you write a note to show her how grateful you are.
“Mr. and Mrs. accept with thanks”
Since all invitations should be written, it is necessary to acknowledge an invitation with a written reply.
“Bon voyage and best wishes”
To be correct, a hand-written note on your personal visiting card should accompany every gift.
“I enjoyed your letter so much”
Every letter you receive from a friend demands a letter in reply. However, if someone owes you a letter, do not stubbornly refuse to write until it is “your turn.” 😂 Write whenever you feel the urge.
“Best wishes for the holiday”
Your written message, no matter how short, means twice as much, especially at Christmas or other holidays.
“Congratulations and best wishes”
Whether it’s a new baby, a new job, a new husband (😂), or a graduation, a letter is the gracious way of expressing your pleasure.
“We hope you’ll get well soon”
A letter written to a friend who is sick is the most appreciated thoughtfulness.
“My deep-felt sympathy”
When a person is bereaved the simple, sincere expressions of sympathy you write are deeply felt and appreciated.
Here’s Bob and I waiting for our thank-you notes, if you owe us one:
My kinda yuma:
An allusion to one of my favorite Simon & Garfunkel songs:
She’s not wrong.
This reminds me of a book I recently read called I Am Not Sidney Poitier, where the protagonist’s first name was “Not Sidney.”
What bad luck — a grammar-purist genie.
I’m in a group that superimposes sarcastic captions on classical art. Here are two of my recent favorites that highlight my “sense of yuma”:
The irony is not lost on me that our mail carrier who’s been delivering mail to “Bob” and “John” for 10 years now, and who hasn’t ever really addressed me by name, has suddenly decided to — and she’s made the bold choice to go with, “Hello, Paul” when she does.
From Amazon Music:
I continue to be impressed with the advice about AI prompts that you’re giving to create an image, which is to add a statement like “ask me clarifying questions” to the end of your prompt to help your AI program of choice create a more accurate portrayal of what you’re going for.
Recently, I wanted an image to accompany one of my exercise check-ins. I prompted Copilot AI adding the clarifying statement, and here is the back-and-forth I had with it to create the perfect image on the first try:
Draw me a photo quality image of a 50-year-old man in work casual pants walking by a company snack room holding 2 cookies on a small plate and then 4 cookies in his pocket. Ask me clarifying questions to better understand my needs. One question at a time, keep going until you’re confident you have enough to create a complete image.
Great setup—this has the makings of a wonderfully sly scene. To start shaping it visually: Would you like the man’s expression to be neutral, guilty, smug, distracted, or something else entirely?
Smug.
Perfect. Smug opens up a lot of fun possibilities—maybe a raised eyebrow, a half-smile, or even a glance toward the camera like he knows he’s getting away with something.
Next: what kind of setting do you imagine for the snack room? Is it sleek and modern, cluttered and cozy, or maybe a bit dated and corporate?
Sleek and modern.
Got it—sleek and modern snack room. Think glass-fronted fridge, minimalist counters, maybe some brushed metal and soft lighting.
Next: what kind of work casual pants is the man wearing? Are we talking chinos, slacks, tech-fabric joggers, or something else? And what color?
Tan chinos.
Excellent—tan chinos give us that classic work-casual vibe. They’ll contrast nicely with the sleek snack room.
Next detail: what kind of shirt is he wearing? Button-down, polo, sweater, or something else? And any particular color or pattern?
Button-down.
Thanks! What color or pattern is the button-down—solid blue, plaid, white with stripes, something else? And is it tucked in or untucked?
Blue plaid, tucked in.
Awesome—blue plaid button-down, tucked into tan chinos. That gives us a crisp, office-ready look with just enough personality.
Now, about the cookies: what kind are they? Chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, snickerdoodle, something else? And are they visibly different or all the same?
Chocolate chip.
Classic choice—chocolate chip it is. That’ll make the cookie stash instantly recognizable and relatable.
Now, about the cookies in his pocket: do you want them subtly bulging through the fabric, one peeking out, or clearly visible like he’s flaunting the stash?
Mostly subtle bulging through the fabric with one sticking out a little bit.
Perfect—subtle bulge with one cookie peeking out adds just the right touch of visual mischief.
Next: do you want any other characters in the scene? For example, a coworker in the background, someone reacting, or is it just the man and the snack room?
Two other coworkers in the background reacting.
Great—two coworkers reacting in the background adds a layer of storytelling and contrast to the smug cookie thief.
How would you like them to react? Options could include:
– Shocked or disapproving
– Amused or entertained
– Whispering or gossiping
– Trying to pretend they didn’t see anything
Let me know which vibe you’re going for.
Whispering.
Perfect—two coworkers whispering in the background adds a layer of intrigue and social tension.
Next: what kind of environment surrounds the snack room? Is it part of an open office with desks and glass walls, a hallway with carpet and cubicles, or something else?
Part of an open office with desks and glass walls.
Here it is—your photo-quality image is ready now. Let me know if you’d like to tweak anything or build on this scene further.
VACAYA is the first large-scale adults-only vacation company on earth built for the entire LGBTQIAPK community and their straight ally friends.
Our next cruise is in February, and it’s a Vacaya cruise, which means it’s all gay, all the time. And boy is it, if this list of parties is any indication. I’m not saying there’s a party every day, because some days there are two parties.
There’ll be approximately 2700 guests on this Holland America Nieuw Statendam ship, including our BearCruise group, which could be anywhere from 50-150 people.
Here are the just-announced Vacaya parties and themes for the week. It’s a lot.
DAY 1
THIS IS ME: VD EDITION
Saturday, Feb 14, 2026 – 8:30pm
It’s Valentine’s Day! So, wear a little somethin’ somethin’ that lets other Vacayans know who you are and where you’re from, but do it in RED, PINK, and WHITE! Then, get ready for a special performance on the upper decks at 10:30pm!
DAY 2
STOPLIGHT V-DANCE
Sunday, Feb 15, 2026 – 4pm
Our signature first V-Dance has everyone in green, yellow, and red. Wear GREEN if you’re ready to mix and mingle, RED if you’re off the market and “just looking for friends,” or YELLOW if you’re somewhere magically in-between.
CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE PARTY
Feb 15, 2026 – 10:30pm
You call the shots for tonight’s CYOA party! Submit your theme ideas through October 31. Your V Team will narrow down the entries to a Top 5(ish) and then all cruisers will vote on the winning theme!
DAY 3
BACK ALLEY FETISH PARTY
Monday, Feb 16, 2026 – 10:30pm
Tonight, kink rules! So, pull out that harness and fetish-wear and hit the upper decks for a night to remember (or… maybe it’s better if we just forget 😈).
THE LOCKUP AFTER PARTY – 2:30am(ish)
DAY 4
IT’S MARDI GRAS!
Tuesday, Feb 17, 2026 – 10:30pm(ish)
After our evening in San Juan, join us on the upper decks for a little lagniappe!
DAY 5
SH*T KICKERS V-DANCE
Wednesday, Feb 18, 2026 – 4pm
Put on those dancin’ boots and get ready for our late afternoon hoedown! DJ Dawson will be mixing all your country favorites to his unmistakable dance beats. Get ready to kick some sh*t!
MIXTAPE 80s PARTY
Feb 18, 2026 – 10:30pm
Press play and slip Into the Groove as we take you down Electric Avenue. From Don’t You Want Me and You Spin Me Round, it’s wall‑to‑wall bops for big hair and bigger moves. We’ll get Footloose, then slow it down Time After Time before ramping back up with I Wanna Dance with Somebody and It’s Raining Men. Expect a cheeky nod to Smalltown Boy, a splash of Karma Chameleon, and a sing‑it‑loud Never Gonna Give You Up.
FAST-FORWARD AFTER PARTY – 2:30am(ish)
DAY 6
CHERRY BOMB
Thursday, Feb 19, 2026 – 10:30pm
Tonight is our week’s grand finale as the entire ship turns crimson! Dress in head-to-toe red and step into a sea of ruby, scarlet, and neon fire as our DJs unleash peak-hour anthems and extended mixes in our last late-night blowout! Cherry, set, go!
DAY 7
SHE’S A MESS V-DANCE
Friday, Feb 20, 2026 – 3pm
As we sail away from our final port of call, we’ll wave goodbye in the messiest way possible, with our now iconic SHE’S A MESS V-DANCE. Simply wear one piece from every costume you’ve worn this week and BE A MESS, GURRRRRL!
I see a lot of steamer trunks, hat boxes, and kink-accessory cases in that ship’s future!
If you’re not a bourbon drinker, you may not be familiar with Buffalo Trace. In most places — even at their distillery in Frankfort, KY, which we visited in August of 2023 — there is a limit on the number of bottles (2) you can purchase.
In North Cackalacky, we have to purchase liquor (Liquor! You liquor, you brought ‘er!) in what are called ABC Stores, and there is a one-bottle limit on purchasing Buffalo Trace. Also, you pretty much have to be at the particular store when the shipment comes in, because it just flies off the shelf — which in this case is a metaphor, because they actually keep it behind the counter and you have to ask for it.
That’s the backstory that a friend of ours didn’t know, but he knows we’re bourbon drinkers, and one afternoon he texted us from an ABC store at Carolina Beach with this picture asking, “Is this any good?”
Once I finished squealing, I gave him the lowdown about only being able to buy one bottle, etc., and he said, “I’m sitting here looking at 3 cases. Would you like me to pick you up a bottle or 2?” To which I couldn’t answer fast enough, “Please get us 5!”
I thanked him profusely for thinking of us, and a few minutes later, he confirmed the purchase saying, “I figured it was something important, as they literally went through 4 or 5 cases as we were standing in line to purchase these. Crazy.”
Talk about being in the right place at the right time and being thoughtful about your friends! We appreciate both you and Patrick, John, for thinking of us!
… to keep creams and ointments this far beyond their expiration date.
This picture is of the ones we’ve saved over the years. The baggie we’ve stored them in is so greasy, you can hardly see through the bag any more.
I’ve been treating a rash with the hydrocortisone ointment, which is highlighted in green.
I mentioned to Bob that maybe we should go ahead and let a few go — if not most or all of them, and he agreed.
Just for the heck of it, before we threw them out, he did an inventory of their expiration dates:
| March 1997 (28 years ago) | July 2000 (25 years ago) |
| September 2003 (22 years ago) | May 2004 (21 years ago) |
| May 2009 (16 years ago) | March 2011 (14 years ago) |
| March 2012 (13 years ago) | April 2013 (12 years ago) |
| February 2018 (7 years ago) | February 2020 (5 years ago) |
The highlighted one was the 14-year-old ointment I was using. I don’t know why it wasn’t healing my rash. 😂 😂 😂
Sitting in the doctor’s office with decision paralysis after having waited 4 minutes so far…
Have you noticed the new claim on aerosol air fresheners?
Two things about this development:
But, thanks Glade… I guess.
This one made me smile, because our Amtrak Southwest Chief trip is imminent, when we’ll be on a train for 43 hours from Chicago to L.A. — and now on the lookout for lovestruck strangers. 😂
And this one made me literally laugh out loud,
because I spent years wanting a postcard published on PostSecret.com — and it finally happened on December 17, 2023:
That’s what Bob (my husband) and I call them. Here’s the most recent one:
Who gets the “Rhinestone Cowboy” allusion?
These things are such a crock! This one was to Bob’s phone and 1) he doesn’t even have a profile on LinkedIn, and 2) he hasn’t had a resume for 40 years. (And he’s been retired for more than 10 years.)
I recently was teased with this article on Slate Plus: My Scammer: I responded to one of those spam texts from a “recruiter” — then took the job. It got weirder than I could have imagined.
I don’t have a Slate Plus subscription, but if anyone does and is willing to share access to this article, I’m dying to read it! (Although I’m not curious enough to pay for a subscription, obviously.)
Hot Ukrainian women! They’re both 1) vying for real estate in my junk mail folder, and 2) barking up the wrong tree.
I have an email in to Oksana asking her if she has a brother.
On August 19, 2024, we mailed this post card from South Africa:
to my sister and her husband in North Carolina, and they received it yesterday!
I’m not saying that’s slow service, but:
We have neither just returned from the O.R. and a blood transfusion nor have we stolen a bag from the blood bank. Discuss.
It’s the remnants of sucking out the last drop of a box-o-wine!
When we’re home, we host happy hour on Mondays on our front porch, and we cheer on the runners of the Pelagic Run Club, which is associated with a bottle shop that’s less than a mile from our house.
Since we’re in Vienna, we didn’t have it today, but we did check our web cam that shows our front yard at the time they pass by and caught a few shots of them going by.
Update: Our friends Sam & Neal picked up the slack by putting signs out at their house, which is one street over from ours.
Unlike the dead skunk in the middle of the road, this dead fly was on the side of the hallway the 2 days we were at the Monastery Boutique Hotel.
On the way to checking out, we created this image as a visual pun.
What is it?
Shoofly! Webster’s definition is:
shoofly
noun
shoo·fly ˈshü-ˌflī
1: a child’s rocker having the seat built on or usually between supports representing an animal figure
2: any of several plants held to repel flies
The Costco optical department person is ringing up a new pair of glasses that I’ve chosen.
Her, pointing to that dotted design along the temples: “You like these?”
Me: Yeah, they’re fine.
Her: Hmmm.
Me: You don’t like them, I take it?
Her: Well, they’re usually on girls’ glasses.
Me: Oh. I don’t care about that. Besides, I can’t see them when I’m wearing them. They’re fine.
Some eyeglasses for sale at Costco that are described as:
an oxymoronic adjectival mess the seems to capture the zeitgeist of a 1985 blockbuster movie:
My friend sent me this image saying, “7’s for me. Is it 12 or 13 for you?”
She’s not wrong:
This reminds me, Bob knows me so well that one time when I was still working, I wanted a banana for lunch, but he knew the ones we had weren’t ripe enough for me, so he doctored one up with a Sharpie and packed it in my lunch.
Recently, “The Flintstone’s purple pet” was a clue in one of the crossword puzzles I do. I hadn’t thought of Dino in a good long while.
Then lo and behold, yesterday at the grocery store, I saw these chunks of chicken.
So many questions… not the least of which is: “Why is that dinosaur on the package green, and are they purple on the inside at least?” And just in terms of making them at all: “Why??? It seems very, very arbitrary to me.”
There are a number of songs whose lyrics include “I can touch the sky,” which makes me wonder, “Exactly how far up is it before the sky actually starts?”
Copilot AI to the rescue:
The “sky” doesn’t have a hard boundary. What we typically call the sky is Earth’s atmosphere, which extends about 62 miles (100 kilometers) above sea level to what’s known as the Kármán line — often considered the edge of space. That’s higher than any commercial plane can fly and where things start to get truly weightless
So, I says to Copilot, “But where does the sky start? Is it one-inch off the ground?”
In the most basic sense, yes—the sky starts right at your feet. The “sky” is really just Earth’s atmosphere, and we’re all living in the thickest part of it, called the troposphere, which begins at ground level and stretches up about 7 to 12 miles (12 to 20 km). So technically, every breath you take is part of the sky.
It’s just that when we look up, we perceive that vast expanse differently—like it’s separate from us, a thing up there rather than around us. But truly, you’re walking through the sky every time you stroll down the street. Kind of poetic, don’t you think?
With all that said, being able to touch the sky isn’t really a big enough deal to brag about.
Long-time cruisers love to correct you when you call the vessel a boat, as in “We need to be back to the boat by 6 p.m.”
“It’s a ship!” they’ll cry.
In anticipation of our imminent Danube Delights Riverboat Cruise, I read Diamonds on the Danube in which, most times, the characters refer to the riverboat as a ship, which got me to musing… and Googling, of course:
A riverboat is generally called a boat, although in some contexts, particularly with larger river vessels, “ship” might be used. The distinction between boat and ship often relates to size and whether the vessel is designed for ocean travel (typically called a ship) or inland waterways (typically called a boat). Riverboats, designed for shallow draft and inland navigation, are usually classified as boats.
I’ll be saying, “It’s time to get back to the boat,” during this trip. This is what our boat looks like:
In contrast, our fall New England & Canada Cruise will be on NCL’s Norwegian Getaway, which is unequivocally a ship:
Words, words, words! Ever the editor.
In my recent reading of The Emperors of Chocolate: Inside the Secret World of Hershey and Mars, I learned that before there were machines to produce Hershey’s Kisses, the line-people (almost always women) in the factory had to lay that little strip of paper (the “plume”) down on the foil, put the chocolate on it, and then wrap it.
But sometimes the plume blew away before they could set the chocolate on it and wrap it. Because it happened enough, and because there was a lot of pressure to maximize their productivity, the women sometimes licked the chocolate and stuck the plume to it to keep it from blowing away before they could wrap it.
Reading that caused me to muse about, realistically, how important that plume is to the consumer. Please take this brief survey to let us know.
As soon as I committed to a Costco checkout line, I noticed the cashier, and thought: “Oh, it’s him, the guy who commented on my t-shirt the last two times I’ve been in his line.” I immediately checked which t-shirt I had on and was thankful it wasn’t my PLAYS UNDER PRESSURE one — the one I’d had on both times I’d previously gone through his line.
Sure enough, when I got to the register he said, “I like your shirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man with a pumpkin head, though.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Apparently he’s famous on YouTube, which I only found out after about 10 “kids” told me they like my shirt, and I finally asked one of them, “Is this a famous person or something?”
I had no idea about the pumpkin man dance pop-culture phenomenon when I bought that t-shirt from 6 Dollar Shirts [sic]. I just bought it to wear on the 2023 Ultimate Disco Cruise, because the pose of the pumpkin man had immediately reminded me of:
Then I remembered that this cashier also likes to yammer while he rings you up (which I don’t love), and that he fancies himself as funny. Sure enough, after the shirt comment, he starts:
“What kind of bee can’t make a decision in springtime?”
“I don’t know.”
“A May bee.”
Then another:
“Earlier today, I was driving behind an ambulance when a cooler fell off the back. I stopped and opened it up to find a foot inside. So, I decided to call a toe-truck.”
Lest I be unarmed in a battle of wits, I said:
“What’s better than a candelabra on your piano?”
“I don’t know, what?”
“Tulips on your organ.”
Him, after a 2-second processing delay: “Ha! Nobody’s gonna argue with that!
My dad was “hard of hearing” for about as long as I can remember. Obviously, I could deduce that it was a result of being around loud noise, but I wasn’t ever exactly sure of the diagnosis.
In this medical record it says, “History of noise exposure includes heavy artillery beginning in 1948 and being a loader on 90 mm. guns up until 1953.” This is what one of those “guns” looks like:
And here’s the medical record:
Also for as long as I can remember, my dad had — sometimes debilitating — back pain. Not that there’s anything funny about back pain, but I had to laugh when I saw this note about prescribing PT for him, because 3 times a week I do 8 exercises to strengthen my core and my back, and those 2 exercises are part of my routine!
My dad’s uniform hosted a lot of ribbons and some medals. This is a picture in the latter part of his career, when he was a Sergeant Major.
Looking through the many military records of his, before recycling them, here is a list of the “decorations, medals, badges, commendations, citation, and campaign ribbons” awarded to him:
The Purple Heart is the most distinguished award he earned, and I always thought it was a result of punji sticks, a type of booby-trapped stake, that went into his shin. However, this account that I came across in his medical records paints a different picture:
22 AUG 69. C Company, 1st Battalion, 4th Marine Division. While serving on active duty with C Co. of above named unit at approximately 19:15 hours on 10 AUG 69, 1st Sgt. Martin received fragment wounds to the right leg resulting from an enemy rocket, while in a defensive position. He was treated at 1/4 [illegible acronym] and returned to duty. Condition and prognosis are good. He will receive his first Purple Heart Award.
Receiving said Purple Heart:
Recently, I went through several file cabinet folders of paperwork related to my dad, who died 10 years ago this September 11th. The majority of the paperwork comprised health records and records of his military service in the U.S. Marine Corps, and I learned a few things about him in the process.
I knew he entered the military very young, as the family story goes that my grandmother had to sign for him to join because he wasn’t yet 18.
I also knew that he’d never graduated high school, because he earned his USAFI High School GED in 1959, and this document confirms that, where it shows his “non-service education” at the time as 8 years grammar school and 1 year of high school.
The thing I didn’t know about him was where he worked before enlisting in the Marines. This document lists Berkshire Fine Spinning Associates in Fall River, MA as his employer, and the “occupation” field says he was a “spare boy!”
I’d heard of neither that company nor that job position before. Thank the &deity for the internet.
According to Wikipedia: Berkshire Fine Spinning Associates (/ˈbɜːrkʃər/) was an American textile company. In 1955, the company merged with Hathaway Manufacturing Company to form Berkshire Hathaway. Wait! What??? My father worked for the precursor to Berkshire Hathaway, Warren Buffet‘s company??? 😂
The mill my dad worked in in Fall River was King Philip Mills, an historic cotton mill complex, which was acquired by Berkshire Fine Spinning Associates in 1930.
When I first saw “spare boy,” my thoughts immediately went to bowling, perhaps because as young girl my mother worked as a “pin boy” resetting pins at the bowling alley for, as the family lore goes, “a nickel an hour.”
But alas, in mill work, a “spare boy” was a young male worker who assisted with the operation of machinery in a textile mill, particularly during the early 20th century. They were responsible for ensuring the smooth functioning of the production process in the factory.
For instance, Andrew Stefanik worked as a spare boy in a textile mill in Chicopee, Massachusetts. His tasks likely involved supporting tasks like replacing bobbins and other general duties. This was a common role for young workers, especially “bobbin boys,” who often worked as spare boys.
The term “spare” suggests that they might not have had a specific machine assigned to them but were available to assist wherever needed, filling in for absent workers or helping with tasks that required additional hands. Historically, this could also be referred to as a “spare hand.”
Here’s a picture of a “bobbin boy” working in the mills, one of the jobs my dad presumably did as a spare boy.
I’ll admit that I have a little bias about thinking a lot of weight-lifters are self-centered or narcissistic.
That assessment deepens as I observe someone staring at themselves in the mirror even when they’re not actually exercising — which is to say that I get that some body builders want to make sure their “form” looks good as they’re exercising. But that doesn’t explain why they’re still staring at themselves when they’re between sets.
Today I witnessed staring at yourself raised to a whole new level:
I mean the dude brought a selfie stand with him for the occasion. Perhaps he’s an “influencer.” 🙄 What’s next, light stands and hair-blowing wind machines?
I’m at the register unloading my cart onto the belt when I feel tap, tap on my back.
Lady behind me in line: “Excuse me. Are you paying cash for your groceries today?”
Me: “No, I’m not.”
Her: “Okay, have a blessed day.” And away she walks.
Now I want to know what her response would have been had I said yes, since I actually did have enough cash in my wallet to pay cash.
We have a picture, which we’ve learned is worth a thousand words, when trying to explain to cruise cabin stewards how we want the bed made up — especially if the steward’s English is a second language.
First of all, we need 3 pillows each.
Second of all, we want only the sheet on one-half (my half, the right side of the pic) of the bed, and the sheet plus the duvet on the other half (Bob’s half, the left side of the pic) of the bed.
This is really quite easily accomplished: put a queen-size sheet on the bed, and then put a twin-size duvet on top of the sheet on the left side — but it’s been our experience that, for some reason, this is very difficult to articulate with just words, so we keep this photo on our phone during cruises.
 |
While not formally recognized as the “patron saint of happy hours,” St. Philip Neri and St. Raphael the Archangel are often associated with joy and happy gatherings. St. Philip Neri is known as the patron saint of joy and laughter, while St. Raphael is associated with happy meetings and celebrations. |  |
I’m not exactly sure what that thing is at the end of St. Raphael’s left hand, but I’m imagining it’s a formidable, furtive flask of bourbon.
I regularly do the daily AARP and L.A. Times crossword puzzles and whenever I come across a clue like “Dad’s mate,” I always answer with DAD, which of course is wrong, but I enter it at least 3 times like I just can’t believe it’s not the right answer.
Other clues I do the same thing for:
The clue: Papa’s spouse
I answer: Papa | Papa | Papa
The clue: Mama’s companion
I answer: Mama | Mama | Mama
The clue: Father’s mate
I answer: Father | Father | Father
| AI’s summary of the lyrics of this song:
The lyrics tell the story of a family reacting to the [June 3rd] news that Billie Joe MacAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge. The family discusses the event during a meal, sharing memories and observations about Billie Joe and other happenings in their lives. Over time, the story reveals that Billie Joe was seen with a girl throwing something off the bridge. A year passes, and the family experiences more tragedy, including the father’s death. The narrator is left spending time picking flowers and throwing them off the same bridge. |
I was cleaning out some of my dad’s papers — he died coming up on 10 years ago — and I found 8 copies of this recipe, about which Bob quipped, “Looks like he couldn’t give them away.”
Cher (/ʃɛər/ SHAIR; born Cheryl Sarkisian on May 20, 1946) is an American singer, actress and television personality. She’s 79 today!
And as Bob is wont to do on celebrity singers’ birthdays (or when they die, truth be told), we’re playing “All Cher All Day.”
At around 6 p.m., he walked by me to put 6 of her CDs back in the collection, when I asked, “Do we have any left to play?”
Him: 27. Then we can move on to the Sonny & Cher CDs.
Me: 27 more CDs???
Him: Yes.
Then, after checking the collection: “Actually, only 17 more.”
Shortly we’ll be having dinner, and it’ll be none other than:
Click image for recipe.
And Bob’s most delicious dinner!
While on the Planet Fitness elliptical machine, facing one of their huge TV screens, I saw a headline on GMFB that asked, “Should ‘tush push’ be banned?”
I was, like, “Huh? Is that a line dance they do when they make some great play or get a touchdown?”
At the height of my line-dancing days, I knew close to 50 line dances, one of which was the Tush Push.
Turns out the tush push in football is a play, not a dance, and a controversial play at that.
What the Tush Push (a.k.a. the “brotherly shove”) looks like in football:
What the Tush Push looks like in line dancing:
We have a lot of realtor friends, none of whom specifically reminds me of this post card.
I’m not sure what tickles me so much about this one, but perhaps because it’s just a big f*ck you to adverting.
See this week’s full PostSecret collection. It changes weekly on Sundays.
I was half-listening to the radio when an ad came on that I thought said the word homosexuals, which of course perked up my ears!
Tuning in, I got the context of it being an ad for a home goods store that had sectional sofas on sale.
And what they apparently had said was: “Get these home sectionals before they’re all gone.”
This was on the locker next to mine the other day at Planet Fitness.
I’ve never seen such a thing, and I’ve learned that the Master Lock brand calls theirs Letter Lock™, and it makes me wonder if there are other dial variations on combination locks.
Sparks, D. (2025, April 26). The Seven-Year Rule – MacSparky.
There are some great, great images in this mostly-visual story.
Chongqing, the world’s largest city – in pictures (4 minute read)
The Guardian. (2025, April 27). Chongqing, the world’s largest city – in pictures.
“Chongqing, China, is as big as Austria. With 34 million inhabitants, the city is the emblem of the fastest urban revolution on the planet. It has become a symbol of the Chinese ability to reshape the world. This article contains a gallery of images from all over the city showing sights like the Yangtze River, street food stalls, various shopping centers, and more.” TLDR. (2025, April 28).
It’s time to replace the outdoor bar set that you can see at the far end of our deck. This one is a replacement of the exact same one that we had before it.
Instead of getting a third identical one, we’ve decided to have a nice bar added on to our deck.
This won’t be the final version, but it’s the drawing we’ve given to the builder as a starting point. It is going to be built off of that existing privacy wall, and a lot less elaborate than this one. And, it definitely will not have a TV in it!
“CROSS CUT EDGE has been demonstrated cutting trees on TV.”
“BOTTOM EDGE is sharp enough for a professional meat cutter.”
“SHATTER PROOF, BOIL-PROOF DISH-WASHER safe handle guaranteed for life.”
“New SAFE GUARD handle.”
“STAYS SHARP because 90% of this razor edge NEVER touches cutting surface.”
This vintage, mid-century Quikut serrated meat knife, still in its very-marketing-oriented sleeve, has been in my family for years. I think my dad might have used it to cut the Thanksgiving turkey some year(s), but I wouldn’t swear to it.
It’s days like this that I revel in being retired.
I’ve been reading the PostSecret site weekly for a long, long time. (I’ve even had a secret of my own published on it.) Note: New secrets are posted every Sunday.
Every once in a while, one makes me literally laugh out loud. This week it was this one:
Like with electronically stored photos and documents, I have “management issues” of where all of my books-to-read lists are kept. And then there’s the digital detritus of the books that I’ve read but haven’t removed from the list or deleted its download.
I have no fewer than 4 “to-read” lists. I say “no fewer” instead of “exactly,” because there are undoubtedly some scribbled on pieces of paper somewhere.
1. My to-read list at the Wake County Public Library currently contains 33 books, all of which, of course, the library carries. Most of them include a note as to how it came to be on the list.
2. My to-read list on Goodreads currently contains 54 books, and the ones on this list are primarily ones that I did not find available at the library at the time I added them to this list.
3. My to-read list on my Kindle contains 30 books, and these are free downloads that I got either from BookBub or Amazon First Reads and haven’t read yet.
4. My to-read list in the Notes app on my iPhone is a “quick list” of the priority items to consider for my very next book.
On April 17, 1994, I came out of the proverbial closet.
I like the idea that I’m approaching the year when I will have spent as many years out of the closet as I spent in, which will happen in 2030. I’m currently at 36 years in, 31 years out.
In 2021, I wrote these three 50-word stories about the emotional toll of living in the closet for 35 years and why people say, “It felt like the weight of the world was lifted from my shoulders when I came out.”
| Keeping up appearances | In the interest of me | To come out—or check out |
| I’m married to a woman, but I am a terrified, closeted gay man trying to keep up the charade. So, I “ogle” at “big tits” and traveling as a trainer for work, I make sure I refer to “my wife” at least once while introducing myself. It’s kind of exhausting. | I was a young Republican because I believed I was a self-made man—before I learned about privilege. But mostly I identified as such to distance myself from “the gays.” Voting against their interests, I couldn’t possibly be one, right? I’m still embarrassed and haunted by this. I’m so sorry. | Riding home from my $100K job, to my $250K home, in my $40K car, I wonder: “Is there any way to plunge this ‘ultimate driving machine‘ into that ravine and ensure I won’t live with an ‘intended to die’ for the rest of my life?” It’s unbearable living like this. |
Modern Apothēca is celebrating “4/20 Week” with a 20% off coupon, so I put in an order. Delivery is free, and if you get your order in by 4:20 p.m., you get it the same day. With the offer going on, they had a lot of deliveries today. Mine just arrived.
I fell asleep waiting for my sleep gummies to arrive.
#OtherIronicThings
Two things about today’s NYT Connections puzzle…
1. My knowledge domain of the blue category is the null set. Never heard of the game.
2. This is the first time I can recall that a word in one category is actually the name/subject of another category.
In our upcoming Danube Riverboat Cruise, during our port call in Passau, Germany, there’s an optional excursion available that includes this as part of its description:
Learn about traditional glass production and see a demo in a small family-run glass manufacturer.
We won’t be doing it, but it reminds me of the time in 1987 in Venice, Italy when my then-wife and I visited a glass manufacturer that was home to one of the master glass blowers in Venice.
Impressed — and unequivocally caught up in the moment — after the demo by “the master,” we ended up buying an $800 vase. That doesn’t sound like that much, but it was at the time. It’s $2,284.92 in 2025 money! For a damn vase. Had to have it, apparently. 😂
I kind of like the idea of this über-conspicuous umbrella, but I’m trying to imagine the thoughts of people passing by me as I wander about under one.
I’m pretty sure I’d go with different shoes, and perhaps purse, at the very least.
I’m also pretty sure that in this litigious society of ours, somewhere along the bottom perhaps, these words would have to be imprinted: “This plastic extension is not a toy.”
I guess even miracles have an expiration date or lose their luster so as to be put out to pasture on the purgatorial clearance rack.
#BlessItsHeart
Having been in the technology business — one way or another — during 40 years of working, I’m very interested in the evolution of the number of outlets being provided in various venues, such as hotel rooms, cruise ship cabins, and waiting areas.
On a recent trip, I stayed at both a Quality Inn and a Hampton Inn, and while the outlets available in the Quality Inn room were adequate, the ones in the Hampton Inn room far exceeded them.
In addition to the outlets in the walls, there were 2 outlets built into the desk itself, 2 built into the lamp sitting on the desk, and 2 on the lamp on the nightstand between the two beds.
The most impressive to me, though, were the two on the microwave. It’s the first time I’ve seen that.
You can safely plug in devices that draw 4 amps or fewer into a 4-amp max outlet, which includes many small electronics like phone chargers, small lamps, and some low-wattage appliances.
A 9-amp max outlet can safely power most common electronic devices like lamps, chargers, computers, and TVs, as long as the total wattage of all devices plugged in doesn’t exceed the outlet’s capacity.
I had my tires replaced a couple of days ago, and the brawny-bear service guy could have no inkling of the thoughts that ran through my head when he said, “Now, it’s nothing to be concerned about, but I’m going to give you a stud referral.”
Some of said thoughts:
At any rate, it is a real thing, and I got one, and I’m going to take care of it today at the referred place, which just happens to be a walkable half-mile from our house.
Update: I stopped to see if the repair place could take my car today to handle this.
Me, handing the voucher I had to the lady at the service desk: “Is this something you can do today, or should I schedule an appointment for later in the week?”
Lady, to co-worker across the room: “SCOTT, CAN YOU DO A STUD TODAY?”
Me (thinking): “Honey, if he can’t, I can.”
It’s just too easy with the vernacular around this repair.
On Saturday morning, I set out on an 8-day drive. Oh sorry, did I say 8-day? I meant 8-hour.
After about 2 hours, making my first stop — at the Welcome to Virginia rest stop — I took a minute to lay out the “snacks and lunch” my husband packed for me, which included two most delicious homemade sausage biscuits.
People ask me how I don’t get bored during retirement, and when I say I’m on my computer at least 8 hours a day, it seems hard to believe. Well, this is a typical morning, which can take up at least 2-3 hours:
Doing morning brain teasers:
| AARP crossword puzzle |  |
| L.A.Times crossword puzzle |  |
| NYT Strands game |  |
| NYT Connections game |  |
| NYT Wordle game |  |
Next in my routine are visiting these websites:
| Check our Google calendar for the day’s commitments |  |
| Check today’s to-do list in my iPhone Reminders app |  |
| Review our checking account activity |  |
| Update my sentence-a-day diary |  |
| Check my wait-listed library books for movement |  |
| Check the morning’s stock market activity |  |
| See what my exercise check-in is for today | |
| Read the day’s TLDR newsletter |  |
| Check the daily BookCrossing releases |  |
| Check my daily BookBub email for free e-books |  |
I do things like this on the computer throughout the rest of the day:
And usually, I spend my evenings reading. As of today, I’ve read 30 books so far this year.
I’m 5 days post-op and so happy to get those huge bandages off.
The stitches will come out on Tuesday, April 8. I’m so happy to be able to type again!
This is the second surgery that I’ve had that has been with just a local anesthesia. The first one was 38 years ago, about which I wrote this 50-word story:
Mind if we watch?
At 29, I got a vasectomy. With my legs in stirrups and my junk hanging through a hole, the surgeon asked if a med school class could observe the procedure. To my surprise, I heard my Valium-induced euphoric response: “Sure, why not? Y’all pop some popcorn and sit up front.”
Last Wednesday, I had surgery to remove mucoid cysts on 2 of my fingers — also with just a local anesthesia but with no med school students watching.
The most interesting thing that happened while the prep team was reading all of the disclosures to me that have to made before surgery (e.g., “All surgeries involve some kind of risk.”) was this disclosure: “Dr. Erickson [my surgeon] is a business partner of — and has financial interest in — this center.”
About 45 minutes before being wheeled into the OR, I had a Valium and 4 (quite) painful numbing injections — 2 in the palm of my left hand and one into each finger that was going to be sliced open.
In the very cold OR, with a drape between me and my hand so as not to see the operation, along with the doctor there were several people in the room — 4, I think.
I chatted with the doctors and nurses the whole way through. Here are snippets of some of the conversations:
Doc (pinching my middle finger to make sure it’s completely numb): Can you feel this?
Me: Actually yes, just a little.
Doc: OK, let’s put a little more numbing medicine in that one. How about this index finger?
Me: No, I don’t feel anything on that one.
Doc: Good. We’ll start on this one while the numbing on the other one is progressing.
Nurse (scrubbing my lower arm and entire hand including all of my fingers): We are just going to get you good and clean to avoid any chance of infections.
Me: Thank you.
Doc: I’m putting a rubber cover over your nearby finger for protection.
Me: Thank you.
Doc: OK, we are finishing up on this finger. I’m going to stitch it up and then we’ll start on your other one.
Me: I appreciate the play-by-play as you are operating. It’s very helpful and comforting.
Me: Do you have a preference for the days you work in the office seeing patients as opposed to the days that you’re here doing surgery?
Doc: I like a mix of both, really. I enjoy spending time with patients figuring out what’s causing their pain, and I enjoy surgeries, too. This is my favorite kind of surgery, though, where the patient is awake and we can have a conversation.
Me: My husband and I are getting to the age where some of our doctors are retiring, like Dr. Edwards where you work. I saw him 18 years ago to look at my finger, and now he’s retired.
Doc: And his son is working with us now!
Nurse (I think his name was Peter): And his son is very good, too.
Me: Dr. Wyker did my knee replacement and my husband’s hip replacement. He’s probably getting ready to retire, too.
Nurse: I used to work in Dr. Wyker’s office! Good guy.
Me: He’s probably been on a few vacations in the Caribbean off of our joint-replacement money alone.
Me: Where is your favorite place to vacation?
Doc: There is a ranch in Wyoming that my family likes to go, generally once every other year.
Me (sort of joking): A dude ranch?
Doc: Well yes, it is a dude ranch. We like to ride horses, it’s peaceful and quiet there, and I like to sit on the porch and read — and just relax.
Doc: What’s been your favorite vacation so far in your life?
Me: Two come to mind: 1) For my 50th birthday I went to 3 places in the book 1000 Places to See Before You Die. They included The Blue Mountains of Sydney, 7 Spirit Bay in The Outback, and Heron Island on the Great Barrier Reef, and 2) this past August, my husband and I did a Safari at the Sabi Sabi™ private game reserve in South Africa. It was as incredible as everyone says they are.
Doc: What do you do to fill your days in retirement?
Me: I read a lot. I read 102 book in 2022, and I’m close to 30 so far in 2025. Also, I spend at least 8 hours a day on the computer — a lot of that time writing. I was a writer and editor for a living, and I still write something every day. I write three 50-word stories around a theme every Wednesday, keep a sentence-a-day diary, and blog about observations I make during my day. In fact you’ll probably be in my blog one day this week.
Doc: Ha! That’s great. About how many people, would you say, read your blog?
Me: 4.
(Laughter all around.)
Me: I’m sorta joking, but it’s not a lot. You aren’t going to go viral or anything.
(Chuckles all around.)
Me: My husband and I also occasionally take walks downtown, take 5 or 6 pictures each, and then sit on our front porch with a cocktail (or two) and write haikus about them. Real renaissance men.
Doc (and others listening in the room): That’s neat.
Doc: We’re finishing up now. I’ll stitch up this second finger, and then we’ll get you out of here and into the recovery room.
Me: Thank you. All of you have been great, and I appreciate each one of you.
All-in-all, it was a great experience. I was only in the recovery room for 15 to 20 minutes and then wheeled out to the car in a wheelchair, which was required because I had had a Valium. Bob drove us home. I get these bandage monstrosities removed in 5 days, so Monday 3/31/25.
If you’re the type who enjoys watching live surgery, here is a video of what they did. Note: This is not my surgery. As the image denotes, you have to watch it over on YouTube. To do so, click the “Watch on YouTube” link in the image. It’s 4½ minutes long.
We feel very blessed to be able to eat the purported delicious Hooters’ wings without being subjected to the “flesh flash.” And bonus, these were BOGO at Publix.
Although I still do all 3 of these puzzles pretty much daily, I stopped posting my results. Just had a hankering to post today’s.
We had a surprisingly pleasant and amusing experience with the guy who came out to do our plumbing repairs.
The plumber, Matt, was a nice-looking, young blond guy with tattoos on his neck and elsewhere, and he was as country as a bowl of grits. What an accent!
He was here for about six hours, repairing two of our toilets and our urinal. The urinal repair was quite involved!
I was surprised that he knew how to work on a urinal, as I assumed the plumbing company would have commercial and residential plumbers, and it being less common for urinals to be in houses, the residential plumbers might not be familiar with them.
Matt talked to himself a lot while working. Bob and I were both amused at his ramblings, and we both howled when, at one point during the urinal repair process, he ejaculated: “Holy shit; that worked!”
Later, when we received his emailed invoice for the work, we learned that he wasn’t talking to himself, because this transcript was included:
Called en route
Arrived
Met Robert
Was shown 2 toilets and a urinal
Toilet 1 leaking from tank to bowl bolts
Toilet 2 has a bad flapper
Urinal leaking from bottom, possibly seal or flange
Recommended full rebuild on both standard toilets
Customer approved
Turned off water to home
Rebuilt both toilets with all new components
Turned water back on to home and tested toilets
Toilets working as they should be with no leaks
Explained to homeowner I would have to remove urinal from wall in order to diagnose and make necessary repair
Turned off water to urinal
Cut hard caulking seal
Removed urinal and found broken PVC urinal flange
Non-stock item, had to source from supply house
Drilled out old flange with success ← time of “Holy shit; that worked!” outburst
Cleaned hub
Installed new flange with bolt kit
Made sure flange was level
Allowed glue to cure for a while before setting flange under load with fixture
Set urinal
Secured to wall
Turned on water
Urinal won’t stop flushing
Replaced diaphragm and vacuum breaker
Urinal now flushes and stops when satisfied
Caulked around urinal perimeter
Cleaned up trash and tools
Wrote up notes
Job complete
Customer paid by check
So, apparently, he was not talking to himself but dictating his work progress.
Bob and I both LOLed again at the transcript comment: “Urinal now flushes and stops when satisfied.” Much like ourselves when peeing in it.
We’re in a gay bar and looking at a girl wearing some very short white shorts and some above-the-ankle white boots, which give her a look that reminds me of a high school baton twirler, like the one who threw her baton high into the air — sometimes too close to me — while I was performing my drum major duties.
Me to my gay friend standing nearby looking at her, too: Do you ever look at a woman and wonder, “If I were straight, would I ‘go for summa dat?'”
Friend, thinking for a moment: No, I can’t say that I have. But, I have wondered if I were born a girl, what kind of girl I’d be. A whore? A”good” girl?
From the movie Elegy:
I think it was Bette Davis who said old age is not for sissies. But it was Tolstoy who said the biggest surprise in a man’s life is old age. Old age sneaks up on you, and the next thing you know you’re asking yourself — I’m asking myself — why can’t an old man act his real age? How is it possible for me to still be involved in the carnal aspects of the human comedy? Because, in my head, nothing has changed.
Or, as Roseanne Roseannadanna said (6 seconds):
In the last month or so, these painful nodules have popped up on my middle and index fingers on my left hand, and today I learned about mucous cysts (a.k.a. ganglion cysts), which I’ll have removed in the next 2 weeks.
Looking at this x-ray taken at the Raleigh Hand to Shoulder Center, the doctor said about the spaces between my knuckle joints, “These are the joints of an 18-year-old.” (So flattering! 😂😂😂). And about the proximal interphalangeal ones (midway between knuckles and fingertips), “And these are still very good.” But, as you can see, about the ones near your fingertips, well there’s bone-on-bone osteoarthritis going on there, especially in those two fingers with the nodules.”
As the old #DadJoke goes — certainly, my dad said it often: “Arthur — the worse one of the Ritis family.”
Interesting aside: You see that crooked little finger? I had that checked out in 2007 in the same practice, which used to be called the Raleigh Hand Clinic, and it was Dr. George Edwards, Jr. who looked at it. 18 years later and Junior has retired and Dr. George Edwards III now works there. (You might be getting old if a lot of your doctors are retiring.)
It has never caused me any pain — and still doesn’t in spite of the x-ray suggesting it could, probably should. It also hasn’t gotten any more crooked. I affectionately refer to it as “my cut & paste finger,” since I tend to “rock” on it when I execute those functions.
In all fairness to my fingers, they have been very, very good to me throughout my 42 working years, starting with keyboard work that began with typing more punched cards than you can shake a stick at during my 4 years of undergrad learning how to program.
And every job, and there have been plenty of them — from my very first job at IBM in 1980 until I retired from Red Hat in 2022 — my fingers have cranked out untold millions of characters without any pain that was debilitating enough to stop me. I’m actually quite surprised I never got the dreaded carpal tunnel syndrome over the years.
Give a hand to my hands.
WCPE announcer: “What were you doing when you were 12? Mozart had already written over a dozen symphonies by the time he was 12.”
#MicDrop #Overachiever
I attended the Friday, March 7 noon performance of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto #2 with my friend Wayne.
We had proper brunch cocktails, mimosas, before Bob dropped us off at the performing arts center downtown. We had seats on both sides of a couple, and they were very civil, agreeing to move over one seat so we could sit together.
Thoughts on Timepiece
On introducing the first piece, Cindy McTee‘s Timepiece, the conductor, Leonard Slatkin, called it something like, “a great piece of music, by a great composer, with a great and renowned career — and who just happens to be my wife.”
That reminded me of when I was in the closet and every time I introduced myself when public speaking, I’d be sure to mention my wife so that it was clear to everyone that I was straight. I’m not suggesting this man is gay. He is, after all, on his fourth wife. 🐱 Surely he would have switched teams by now.
After that announcement, and once I cleared my head of words and phrases like “nepotism,” “conflict of interest,” and “you got some cojones, bro,” I opened my mind to the music.
It was a rather short piece, I think he said it was going to be 6 minutes. Words like, “choppiness,” “syncopation,” and “cacophony” came to mind while listening, and I thought, “I wonder if this is Eastern European music.” (As it turned out, the composer studied at the Academy of Music in Kraków and one of her teachers was Krzysztof Penderecki.)
A lot of — and unusual — percussion instrumentation is going on here. I wonder what that instrument is called that sounds like a zipper. Wayne used the word “ratchet” for it, and I thought he was kidding. I mentioned that it reminded me of those washboards on Hee Haw. Turns out we were both onto something — internet to the rescue: here is the list of percussion instrumentation in the piece:
That clopping sound, which I now know comes from “wood blocks,” reminds me of the Sleigh Ride song.
Thoughts on Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto #2
I had initially thought, “I’m surprised the piano is way in the back of the orchestra when it’s going to be so prominent in the piano concerto,” but in the short break between the first and second piece, they rolled out a gorgeous Steinway front and center.
That dress! The soloist, Olga Kern, had on this dress (not the blue one in that ad glossy above) that reminded me of tiers on wedding cakes or something. It looked something like this but all white and without the picnic basket:
She slouches, is hunched over, actually, when she plays — which made me think of Schroeder’s playing.
When Olga’s fingers were flying over the keys at one point, I thought about how piano playing has an end game, specifically with regards to arthritis of the hands and fingers.
In the middle of the second movement, I thought, “I can’t believe I did not pee after those 3 mimosas and before this performance started. Oh, boy.”
Wayne and I mused over what the actual performer titles were, specifically with regards to the best players in the string section — was it “first chair,” or “principal chair,” or “principal violinist (or viola or cellist, etc.)” or something else. The internet to the rescue again: looks like: principal, associate principal, and assistant principal, which sounds similar to the hierarchy of college professors.
That conductor looks like Andy Rooney — or Leslie Jordan — and like he has kyphosis.
That cymbal player just stood up, buttoned the bottom button of his jacket, picked up his cymbals, and waited. Then, without playing them, he put them down and picked up a slightly larger pair, which he did crash together one time before putting them down, unbuttoning his coat, and sitting back down.
It made me think that if he got paid by the note, he’d be broke. And that reminded me of Barbra’s classic spiel in her backyard concert for which the tickets were $5000 a piece, and during which she mused for 25 seconds about how much that was per note:
Wayne and I had a delightful walk home after a quick stop at Sir Walter Coffee to ostensibly have a cup of coffee but to furtively use the restroom, avoiding the long restroom lines at the venue after the concert. Lots of bladders needed to be emptied before getting on the vans back to the retirement homes and assisted living facilities.
We felt blessed with beautiful weather and to be able to make the 2-mile walk back to our house. Thanks for a swell time, Wayne.
Coda
If you’ve never seen this 2.5-minute scene from The Seven Year Itch, which Bob just introduced me to and is an homage to Piano Concerto #2, enjoy “Good Old Rachmaninoff“:
“My teeth are so clean, I could eat off them.”
I’ve been going to the same dentistry for 45 years, and I’ve seen the same hygienist, Leigh Ann, for 25 years.
You know your stock is close to worthless when going up 6½ cents is a 13.5% increase. Poor Weight Watchers. (Poor me.)
I’m on the waitlist for 7 books at the Wake County Public Library, and as they are sometimes wont to do, a bunch of them are close to becoming ready at the same time.
We recently went through our old passports and driver’s licenses, and Bob took my 3 old passport photos and made refrigerator magnets out of them. He did the same with 2 of his old passport photos and one old college picture. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
I’ve been toying with the idea of getting some gummies that help you fall and stay asleep, or help you get back to sleep if you do wake up during the night. I took the plunge earlier this week.
More than one friend recommended the Modern Apothēca in North Raleigh. It was a little tricky to find (just inside 540 up Falls of Neuse Road), but it’s a cute little place and it has a “coffee shop” next door. The name of the coffee shop is an indication of their advertising “voice.”
Its full name is The Burnt Pot: Cannabis Cafe & Lounge, which is described as: “One of the nation’s first hemp lounges and cafes. We provide a private space for the social and recreational enjoyment of legal hemp products.” They also sell “infused beverages and baked goods” there.
After entering the main door of Modern Apothēca, there’s another door into the sales area, where you’re greeted by someone who, if you tell them it’s your first time there, explains how they’re able to sell what they sell, and why they can’t sell the things they can’t sell.
I explained that I was a “first time user” and what I was trying to “accomplish” with gummies, which was not to get high, but as a relaxant toward a restful night’s sleep.
The salesguy was very knowledgeable, personable, and patient explaining what the various combination of “ingredients” (i.e., CBD, CBN, & THC) are and what they do. I ended up going with Tillmans Tranquils Perfect Dose Night Gummies, and I got a free sample of Comfortably Numb whose name sounds exactly like something I could use to get through the next four years.
And here’s the ad card, on which their advertisement voice is evident again in their daily delivery cutoff information.
Overheard dollar store employee annoyed with two guys who are there to presumably fix a broken freezer and asking her to empty it first:
“I ain’t doing that. They’re only paying me $14 an hour even after being here 8 years. That’s not enough money to do that kind of work.”
Don’t you hate it when you tune into the afternoon opera program on your favorite classical station, and you’re waiting and waiting for the first person to sing at the beginning of an act, but the music goes on and on without it happening? I know I do.
It goes on longer, and you start rolling your eyes in annoyance, then start harrumphing in disbelief that an intro could go on so long — all before realizing they’re airing a ballet today and not an opera.
As he is wont to do, Bob shoveled the snow from our driveway and walkways.
While he was out there, Tom — a friend and neighbor — walked by, and he said to Bob, “I knew you’d be out here shoveling your driveway. We Ohio-Michigan folks always do that. I shoveled mine, and Scott shoveled his.”
Tom and Scott are from Ohio, and Bob is from Michigan.
Musing about a regular, quirky thought of mine, which I just had.
Whenever I enjoy a sweet (like the slice of Ghirardelli Caramel Walnut Turtle brownie I just had) with a cup of coffee, and they taste so good together, I always think, “This is why cops stopping at Dunkin’ (formerly Dunkin’ Donuts) for coffee and a doughnut has become such a cliché.”
There was a pre-metrosexual-era internet “street quiz” called “Gay or Eurotrash?” It presented a picture of a “stylish” guy, and you had to guess whether he was gay or “just European.” It was all tongue-in-cheek, but funny. At least the first 20 times “playing.”
I’ve been thinking about that quiz the past couple of days at Planet Fitness, where I’ve seen several pairs of guys at various times on various days working out together—a few of which seemed just a little too “stylish” (think those very short workout shorts with the slits up the sides) or a little too “well groomed” (think highly coiffed hair with lots of products in it) or standing just a little too “close” for spotting.
They’ve made me think of a variation on that game that I’d call “Workout Buddies or Husbands?”
This cracked me up listening to WCPE (TheClassicalStation.org), where it’s usually:
“And that piece was by Franz Schubert, performed by the Rembrandt Trio,” or
“We just enjoyed Mozart’s String Quartet No. 22 in B Flat, performed by the Shanghai Quartet,” or
“That was Brahms’s Academic Festival Overture, Op. 80, performed by the Houston Symphony.”
But just now, listening while doing my stretching and strengthening exercises:
“That delightful piece was Bach’s Violin Concerto #2 in E, performed by Janine Jansen and a group of her friends.”
I’ve never heard the performers described so casually like that. It probably didn’t help that I’ve never heard of (the apparently renowned) Janine Jansen, so it came across to me like some folks got together with some woman in her garage and pounded out a few numbers. 😂
We have a primary card on which we charge almost everything we buy or pay for each month to get points. We pay it off monthly, as we do with our other 2 cards that always have only minimal charges on them.
Our average monthly bill is $3600, but this month’s is a whopper. But no matter, it’ll be paid in full on the due date. But as you can see, if it wasn’t paid in full, the credit card company would enjoy an absolute windfall on our interest.
Not the first one of these emails we’ve received recently. This one’s from Hulu (which we actually no longer subscribe to), but we also recently got one from Amazon Prime, for which we do pay a little extra each month for an “ad-free” tier. Fuckers!
I don’t like salmon, and Bob only cooks it when I’m not home—usually when I’m away for a few days or so—so he doesn’t have to listen to my whining about how “the place smells like fish.”
But he had a hankering for some salmon patties today, and he cooked them in spite of my being here. When I didn’t smell anything after several minutes, I jokingly asked if he took our (over-the-stove, built-in) microwave out to the porch, to which he said, “Nope.”
I went outside to find it was actually the air fryer, and not on the porch, which is right outside our kitchen door, but out onto the deck and as far away from the house as possible.
I do get that he really is more than I deserve.
Today’s file cabinet folder cleaning out included the Legal folder, where I found my old driver’s licenses and passports. I digitalized them for posterity so I can throw them away.
The progression of photos is the most interesting thing about both of them.
The driver’s licenses also chronical my address changes for the last 35 years.
Passport pictures:
