Friday, March 30, 2012

Flashback Friday # 179

The New Suit

Hello to my old friends who are brave enough to wander to my site to read the menutia of my past. If you're new here, welcome to my past.

As graduation time rolled around during my Freshman year, the Student Council advisor, Mrs. Cherrytree, announced that all the underclass Student Council members would be required to be at the graduation cerimony to pass out programs. She told the girls that they were to be in nice skirts & blouses. Then she told the guys that she wanted all of us to wear suits.

A suit? Yeah, right. I never went anywhere that required dressing up, so I didn't even own a pair of dress slacks. Levi's & Dickey's were what comprised my wardrobe.

I told Mom that the Student Council advisor wanted us to all wear suits. "We'll just have to find you a suit then.", she said. That weekend we made the trip to Westerville to check out what we could find in the mall. We found what we were looking for at a store called "The County Seat".

Remember, this was still the 70's ('79 to be exact). All suits, at least those in our price range, were made of polyester. Saturday Night Fever had been a hit only two years earlier. All the suits we saw had a decidedly disco flair to them. We finally found one that not only fit, but was in our price range. It was similar to the picture below, but it was a black jacket with grey stitching on the back that began at both shoulders and came to a point at the spine. There were four such "V" stitches on the back of the jacket. The back of the pants had the identical stitching.

I also got a baby blue shirt to go along with it. I was styling.

Graduation Day rolled around and I spiffed up with my new threads. I was wearing my black shoes for the last time (as they were getting too small. Complete the ensemble with a shag haircut and you've got a pretty good idea what I looked like.

It just happened to be a scorcher of a day. temperatures in the 90's. I'm wearing a black suit, in bright sunshine with no shade nearby. I nearly roasted.

I fit into that suit until my senior year. It was one of the first suits that I wore to church (but that's a whole nuther story).

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Discord in Cheezland

Over at I Can Haz Cheezburger, they are undergoing some changes in their format. Many of the users (me included don't care for many of the changes. In response, several "Beta LoLs' have been made. Check some of them out here.

Monday, March 26, 2012


If you scramble the letters in the phrase "Let's re-elect a grand president, Barak Obama", it becomes "Let a real American stop a dang berserk debt".


Friday, March 23, 2012

Flashback Friday # 178

Grown-up's Candy

A warm welcome to all the weary travelers who have stumbled upon my little plot of cyberspace. I hope you are able to recover from your weariness in the short time you spend here reading my drivel. Hopefully you won't be so refreshed that you will run screaming from here.

But enough with the formalities. Today's post is about candy. Easter is just around the corner and all the young-uns will have Easter baskets brimming with sweet treats. Who doesn't like candy? Alas, All candy isn't created equal. There's some candy, when I was growing up, I could pass up without any remorse.

My Paternal grandparents in Westerville were big candy eaters. The only problem is that the candy that they liked was nasty. Before Granddad died, you could find all sorts of individually wrapped hard candy in his desk. He would take the box it came in and dump it into the desk drawers. As a little kid, that candy in the desk was not just tempting, it was overwhelming. One day, I snuck one of those candies out when nobody was looking. I quickly unwrapped it and popped it into my mouth. Eewwwyuck!!! It was the black coffee candy. I NEVER snuck any more of Granddad's candy.

Grandma was just as bad. After Easter, she would raid the stores for her favorite candy. She would buy bags of it. She also hid it in Granddad's desk (you'd think I would have learned not to eat anything from Granddad's desk). If you opened either of the middle drawers down the side, you could almost always find a bag of black jelly beans. She would buy whole bags of just black ones. I got gutsy, and decided to try one. Bad idea, it was gross. I never have been fond of black licorice. My grandson "The Boy", loves black jelly beans. He would have gotten along well with his great-great grandmother.

The other candy I encountered as a kid that put me off was horehound. It was one of the few candies that Dad absolutely loved. After all, if your dad is eating coffee candy & your mom is eating black jellybeans, shouldn't you have a taste for strange things? Whenever he would get a bag, I would tell myself, "It's candy. Says so right on the bag." I just couldn't keep it in my mouth after putting it there. I could never remember what it was called either. I remember calling it "horedog candy" once (hound, dog, they're the same, right?)My taste buds have changed a bit and I can now take it or leave it. However, I've never purchased a bag for my own consumption.

Is there a candy that really turns you off?

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Surprisingly Sneaky

On Friday, Lady Nottaguy-TYG made ready to head south to the Lemon's house for a chance to snuggle our new grandson. I couldn't wait for her to leave. As soon as I got the text that she had left the Ogre's house after dropping off those grandkids, I got straight to work.

I had a discussion with my parents about our bathroom. It has needed attention ever since we moved in. They asked if we had ever considered getting one of the high sitting (or handicap) toilets. Dad said he thought he would have to call for help the last time he was in our bathroom. I told him we had discussed it. They said if we decided to do it, they would pay for it. I told them Lady Nottaguy-TYG would be heading down to see the new baby, and I would tackle the job then.

When she left, I set to taking up our old toilet. I tried to unbolt it, but the bolts simply turned. I thought I was going to have to cut them off. Then I had an idea. I simply lifted up and the toilet came up. The floor was so rotted, nothing was holding the toilet down. Then I saw that the flange & wax ring were virtually non-existent.

I then removed the vanity. Once it was out, I then began taking up the old floor. The wood under the tile (and linoleum) was the chipboard plywood. Then that stuff gets wet, it is worthless. It was black (eeewww), soggy and about as strong as wet bread. It came up easily. This was the way the bathroom looked Friday at 9:30 PM.

The next morning, I got a text from the Woodsman, asking if I was ready to start on the bathroom. I told him that I had started the previous night. He came over and we jumped in with vigor. The sub floor had damage too, so part of it had to be cut out.

After making a run to our large home improvement store for a sheet of 3/4" plywood, a sheet of 5/16" plywood, a 4" flange, nails and the new toilet, we set off toward home to complete the job. On the way, we stopped and picked up a hot & ready $5 pizza for lunch. I had several drinks chilling in the refrigerator. Here's what the lunch debris looked like at the end of the day (The Woodsman took home his half empty bottle, so it isn't pictured here):

Once we got the plywood cut, the floor fell into place quickly. We had to reinforce the floor that was between the joists, because the bathroom wall landed between them. We then went to attach the flange. It didn't fit. I went back to the home improvement store for a 3" flange while The Woodsman drilled the hole for the water supply line to go through.

When I got back, We tried to put the 3" flange in, but it didn't fit either. We examined the drainpipe a little more closely to see what was going on. It dawned on The Woodsman that the flange had been glued to the pipe and we had two options, replace the pipe from elbow up or find a metal flange ring that could be taken apart and put around the flange base. We made a dash over to the neighborhood hardware (which closes at 5PM, it was 4:50 when we got there). If the large home improvement store doesn't carry it, the local hardware does. We found what we needed and by 5:30, had the toilet hooked up.

The Woodsman asked if I needed help re-installing the vanity. I told him I could handle it (I was sensing that he was anxious to get home). By 7PM, this is what the bathroom looked like:
I took Monday off to make sure all our mess was cleaned up & disposed of. Plus, I didn't want my wife to get home before me. She was shocked, to say the least. The really good part, everything that was done cost under $200.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Flashback Friday # 177

Mrs. Grimm

Welcome one & all. It's good to see you again. (Actually I can't see you, I can only see my monitor, but I have a great imagination.)

Mrs. Grimm worked at the tile factory that Mom worked for. In fact, before she retired, she held the job that Mom had when the truck drivers would give her boxes of candy. She was one of the nicest ladies that I had ever met.

When I was but a wee lad, any time she would get a prize in a box of cereal, she would give it to Mom to give me. That was really cool because we rarely had cereal with prizes in them. What fun is a box of cereal if it only has cereal inside it?

When I got a little older, she gave me something a little better than cereal prizes. Football tickets. Not any football tickets, but tickets to The Ohio State University. I was going to see the beloved Buckeyes! She & her husband were season ticket holders, and were going to be out of town, so she asked Mom if she thought I might want to go instead. They were against perennial doormat, Northwestern, but none-the-less, they were Ohio State tickets.

Dad & I went and the Buckeyes put the beating on the Wildcats. We sat close to the student section and there was one co-ed who has a loudspeaker and tried to whip the fans into a frenzy. It really wasn't needed and was somewhat annoying. I wrote Mrs. Grimm a nice thank you letter when I got home.

When someone sees that you are grateful for something that they've done for you, they just might do it again. That's exactly what she did. The following year, she & her husband were going out of town on a home date for the Buckeyes. She gave Mom their tickets again. Dad & I got to see Ohio State & SMU battle it out. It was a horrid day to watch a football game. It was rainy all day. The field was a mud pie. The teams wound up tying.

When she announced that she was retiring, I was saddened by the news. The last I heard, she & her husband had become snowbirds, flying away to Florida for the winter.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Funny Smartphone App

My loyal reader know that my wife bought me a new smart phone for our anniversary. Not only have I fallen in love with playing "Angry Birds", I like looking for free apps to put on it (it's the Scotsman in me. I love free things.) I came across an app named "Make Me Bald". You take a picture, line it up, and move your finger on the screen to shave off the subject's hair. Hysterical. Here are pictures of my grand kids, "The Girl" & "The Boy".

Sunday, March 11, 2012

I Can't Believe They Stole The Church Van

This morning, as we were gathering at church for our Sunday school teachers meeting at 9AM, the morning van driver asked if I had seen the turtle top van. Our turtle top van is an older handicap van that has a wheelchair lift. It has body and mechanical issues, but it's the only way for some to get to church. It wasn't on the church grounds. He thought that another driver may have taken it out, so he picked up our two Sunday morning handicapped folks in his car.

As the morning progressed, our pastor had asked everyone who drives a van, Sunday or Wednesday, if they had taken the van out. Nobody had. He then called the police. He then asked, over the pulpit, if anyone spotted it (it stands out like a sore thumb), to let him know.

As church was letting out, and folks were going home, one of our members spotted it at the seediest motel in town. Pastor called the police and met them over there. When the police arrived, they looked at the van, and started laughing. "They stole THAT!" was there exclamation.

Whoever had stolen it had busted out the ignition switch and forced a screwdriver into the opening and drove off with it. It was fortunate that the Wednesday driver hadn't put gas in it before or after his route. The gas gage was on "EMPTY" when it was found. I know how much gas was in there when I left it Sunday night. If nothing was put in it, it wouldn't have had much left in the tank when it was stolen on Saturday.

Is nothing sacred anymore?

Friday, March 9, 2012

Flashback Friday # 176

Things Said By My Elders

Hi, Welcome back to another trip down memory lane. You may wonder at the title. I was going to put "Words of Wisdom From My Elders" but some of the things I came up with weren't all that wise. I didn't come from a family of Rhodes scholars, after all.

My maternal grandfather used to say "If it stays overnight at my house, it's mine." I was terrified about the idea of ever spending the night there, because I wouldn't be able to go back to my parents.

Whenever I would do something dumb, my mom would say "Don't act like your dad." Conversely, Dad would always say "Don't act like your mom."

If telling someone that she planned to do something, mom would always add "Lord willing & the creek don't rise."

I had an uncle who would say "I'm allowed to spoil them, I don't see them that often."

My paternal grandpa, upon returning home would say "Home sweet home. Where you can scratch where it itches."

When asked how he wanted his coffee, Dad would always tell the waitresses "I like my coffee like I like my women, strong & black" He also said that coffee "would put hair on your chest." I could never figure out why women wanted to drink coffee.

He also said "Treat every woman like a lady until she shows you otherwise."

I was told many-a-time "If you don't stop, I'll slap you to sleep."

If we asking where someone was, we were often told "He went to Timbuktu.","He went to the outhouse & fell in." or "He went to the outhouse & the hogs ate him."

Dad would always say "Don't throw that away, it might come in handy some day."

Aunt Shelly was famous for shouting "Take it outside." (usually when a couple of her kids were going at each other.)

As Dad would get ready to turn in for the night, he would say "I think I'll take this beautiful body to bed."

And I will close with what we were told at night "Good night, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite. If they do, bite them back."

Thursday, March 8, 2012

I never understood why women love cats.

Cats are independent, they don't listen, they don't come in when you call them, they like to stay out all night, and when they are at home, they like to be left alone and sleep.

In other words, every quality a woman hates in a man, they love in a cat.

Go figure.

Cat in training

Monday, March 5, 2012

Smart Phone Isn't Too Smart

For our 27th anniversary, my wife got me a smart phone. I'm trying to be a smart user, but at times the phone makes it difficult, especially the text messaging part of it.It's like a child who aways tries to finish my sentences. I make sure I read everything before I hit "send".

We picked up my daughter last Saturday. My wife sent her a text before we left the house. When we got there, she wasn't quite ready because she said she hadn't received the text. I attempted to send the message "She didn't get your text". What the phone typed was She didn't heterosexual"

Yesterday, I sent a text to my assistant Sunday School teacher to ask "Did you copy the fish picture that I gave you?". Instead, it wrote"Did you copy the fish picture that I blocked?"

Finally, and the most funny (in my opinion), My assistant teacher sent me a text saying that she & her son were both sick and would not be at church. Please pray for us. I was going to send the message "K. I will pray for you." The phone typed out "K. I will pray for a monkey."

Friday, March 2, 2012

Flashback Friday # 175

Wrestling the Captain of the Football Team

Hello, Thank you for stopping by and checking out my latest ramblings. If you're here by accident, I hope your browser freezes up so you have to read the whole story.

I've stated before that gym class wasn't my most favorite class (especially during "shirts & skins). If I wasn't being embarrassed, I was getting hurt. Face it, fat boys aren't very athletic. There was, however, this one time when I was pretty good, even if I say so myself.

We were in gym and we were doing a unit on wrestling. Each boy was paired up with another boy (several girls wanted to wrestle the guys, but weren't allowed). The pairings were in the same weight class and we wrestled for a grade. The better you wrestled, the better your grade. There was a problem. I was the only kid in my weight class. I had to wrestle someone who was bigger than I was.

I had wrestled this kid before in Jr. High gym class. When we first went against each other, he grabbed my shoulders & hurled me to the mat. Using survival skills from being tormented at home by my brother, I hit and immediately sprang up. His eyes bugged out & his jaw hit the mat. "You bounced." was all he muttered throughout the rest of the match.

But I digress. This was two years later and he was several pounds heavier. We wrestled and both of us got a "B" (I won the match). After everyone was finished, the gym teacher said that if you wrestled again, you could up your grade. Not many wanted to wrestle again. There was one who did. He was the captain of the Varsity Reserve football team. Nobody in his weight class wanted to wrestle him. I was in the next class up. I agreed (I don't have a clue why).

I was in my weight class because I was fat. He was near my class because he was ripped. There wasn't an ounce of fat on his body. When we began, I knew I was in for it.When he would take me down, I would escape. When he would put a move on me, I'd wriggle out of it. It was like being attacked by my brother again. I used every survival skill that I had mastered.

At one point, my opponent grabbed me by the shoulder and thigh. He then proceeded to lift me over his head like an Olympic weightlifter. I told myself "If he throws you down on the mat like the wrestlers on TV, you're not going to move a muscle." I'd let him think he had seriously hurt me, even if he hadn't. The teacher told him to put me down gently.

At the end of the match, every muscle I had screamed in agony. I was completely whooped. I figured he had won decidedly. The teacher upped my grade to an "A". It wasn't until the next day that I had discovered that I had beaten him on points.

I toyed with going out for the wrestling team all through High School, but the wrestling uniforms that they wore turned me off. They almost looked like girl's one piece bathing suits.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

First Pictures of Our New Grandson

Lady Lemon blessed us with another grandchild at 6:43 PM. He was 8 lb 1oz and19 3/4" long. Here's the pictures that were sent to us: