Category: Trials and Tribulations

Whatcha think, Joe was perfect?

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Thank you for your service…Maybe

I have an interesting problem that has cropped up in the last 5 or 6 weeks.  I have several caps and shirts with the emblem from the FFG-52, USS Carr on them.  I wear the hats a bunch.  Partly because I like the way they look, but mainly in honor of my Uncle Paul H. Carr.  The ship was named after him for his heroic actions in WWII.

I’ve been doing this for years.  The ship was actually decommissioned a few years ago.  So a rough estimate would be 25 years or more.   Occasionally folks will ask me about the hat.  What has been really cool over the years is how many folks I have run into that have served on the ship.  When they see the hat they frequently come over to talk to me.  I have had some very nice conversations Continue reading “Thank you for your service…Maybe”

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Rush – The Belt Buckle

I’m not a big fan of the Canadian rock band Rush, but they do have one thing that I really like.  It is their Rush belt buckles.  The reason is obvious, my last name is Rush and since I wear a lot of cowboy boots it is a fun thing to do.

I’m in the doctor’s office the other day, and the nurse is doing all the pre-doctor-comes-blowing-in things that nurses do when she comments, “I just love your belt buckle.”  I had on the one with big red letters, R U S H.  I was also supine on the examination table at the time, so the buckle was very obvious.

The nurse being somewhat younger than this seasoned citizen, I had to explain to her that it was from the website of the Canadian rock band of the same name.  Since my last name is Rush I found them a necessary item for my vaguely cowboyish/country attire that I occasionally sport.

She then commented that her 14 year old son was really into to the rock band Queen.

I replied, “I don’t think that would be a good belt buckle for your son.”

She was still laughing when she left the room.

And just in case you want one of Rush’s belt buckles: https://rushbackstage.com/dept/belt-buckles?cp=102112_102214_102530

 

 

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Out of the Mouth of Babes

Every year one of neighbor has an outdoor Halloween party for the adults, a pot luck affair.  The neighbors sit up a fire pit, cook a big dish of this or that, and provide the area.  Of course, we all bring candy and mug the Trick-or-Treaters as they come by trying to get rid of our candy. No one wants to have to take the sweets home.  Resistance is futile when it comes to chocolate.

Normally, Robin is the one in the gang of adults passing out candy to the kids as they come by.  She off doing something else and gave the bowl of goodies to me to dispense to the young revelers.

I was doing so when one of them asked me, “What are you supposed to be?”

Now I had come from work and pretty much went straight to the festivities.  I had on cowboy boots, cords and a regular shirt.  I had added a newsboy hat and fleece jacket before we went as it was just wee bit cool and we were to be outside. My hair is a little on the long side.

Not knowing what to answer, I told the truth, “tall and ugly, ugly and tall…”

And that seem to satisfy the young inquisitioner.

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Step on THE Scale, Sir

I recently had some minor outpatient surgery.  I am in the prep room beforehand, and the nurse is taking my vitals.  She asked, “How tall are you?”

I responded, “Six feet, two inches.”

She then tells me to step outside the room and step on the scale.

I quipped, “Could I just not tell you my weight like Trump?”

This particular nurse either did not have a sense of humor (although I thought I was outrageously funny), or she was a Trumpster.  She said, “Please step on the scale, sir.”

Ironically the scale registered exactly 239 pounds.

The nurse did not quite see the irony, either. Oh well.

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Oops

I went backpacking this weekend in Arkansas, down close to the Buffalo National River. This is a wonderful and beautiful area.  If you ever get the chance to visit there, do so.

I am driving there to meet my son and one of my brothers who are trekking with me.  I get a little south of Harrison, Arkansas and I realize that I need gas.  At this point I am getting very close to being in very rural Arkansas.  Now don’t get me wrong.  I lived in Arkansas for fourteen years, and I found many things to love about it. However, some of its reputation is deserved.

I pull into a run-down looking convenience store.  Sitting in front of the store is this snaggletooth woman somewhere between 40 and 65 years of age.  She is smoking a Continue reading “Oops”

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Seinfeld Revisited

In the building where I work there is a gym on the ninth floor.  It is not a big gym and the locker rooms are tight.  You go down a hallway, and if you go through the door on the left it is the ladies’ locker room.  If you go through the door on the right it is the men’s locker room.

Twice now it has so happened that as I was changing a female has walked through the wrong door into the wrong locker room.  First time it happened it was a young lady who works at the same company I work at.  For a month afterwards, I could not look her in the face.

It happened again last week.  I was standing there in nothing but my shirt preparing to put on my running shorts.  A young woman walks in, and she suddenly gets a very perplexed Continue reading “Seinfeld Revisited”

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You have already arrived

Robin and I are driving from St. Louis down to Fayetteville, Arkansas to see our granddaughter and incidentally, my son and his wife.  I do not quite remember what it was, but something occurred that started me grumbling.

Realizing what I was doing I remarked, “I’m turning into a grumpy old man.”

Without missing a beat by ignoring the rest marked on the score, Robin replied, “Turning? You have already arrived.”

To which I said, “Thanks… I love you too.”

Her question back to me was, “You did say dirty old man, right?”

Thinking she is trying to recover her faux pas, or perhaps she really did mishear, I clarified, “No I said grumpy old man.”

Again ignoring the rest marked on the score, she barbed, “Well that too.”

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Footwear?

Robin just cracked me up so bad my stomach started cramping.

When we were in Mexico my flip flops broke so I started wearing a pair of hers.  They are a little more colorful than I would normally wear, but hey I won’t see these people again.

What happened next I am blaming on my new footwear.  I am getting a sushi roll, and while I am waiting for the young lady to make it, the gentleman behind me in line starts up a conversation.  As I am leaving I swear he winks at me.  Since I thought it a little funny, I told Robin about it.

On New Year’s Eve there is a big celebration at the resort.  I see the gentleman again and I know for sure that he winks at me this time.  Again I tell Robin.

We are going through Robin’s pictures this morning.  At the resort they had set up a dance floor on the beach and Robin had taken a picture of the people dancing.  Right there in the foreground was my friend.  I point him out to Robin.  Her comment, “Why he is cute!”

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Things That Go Bump in the Night

The Wee Dog has developed a habit of coming on-board the bed in the middle of the night. When she does this she either snuggles in between Robin and I, or she tries to clean my face. The first I do not mind; the second I am desperately trying to redirect.

Lily stands maybe 14 inches at the shoulder. Our bed stands 32 inches above the deck. This means the critter must get a running start to jump 2 ½ times her height, and she can only do it on my side of the bed. On a good leap she just barely clears, and it is usually the thump of her legs hitting the side of the bed that awakens me. Occasionally she misses and Continue reading “Things That Go Bump in the Night”