DON'T STOP BELIEVING

Once upon a time, in September, 1967 a boy was born in Sampaloc, Manila in the Philippines. At an early age, it was evident that the youngster had a talent for singing. He was encouraged to sing along to songs of his favorite singers and his parents entered him in singing contests. His mother died when we was 13 after a long and costly illness. Her illness had left the family deeply in debt. The boy's father was no longer able to provide for the family and asked relatives to take in the children. To ease his father's burden, the boy quit school and volunteered to strike out on his own. He slept wherever he could: in parks and on benches outside friend's crowded houses. He earned meager money collecting scrap items for recycling. He also took odd jobs on Manila's waterfront. He barely had enough to eat, but he "didn't stop believing".

At the age of 15, the boy became the lead singer of the "Iyos" band. Sometimes they performed at Jolibee's. In 1986, some members of the band formed another band called "Amo". The band won the Rock Wars contest in the Philippines. Two years later they won the Philippines leg of the Yamaha World Band Explosion. They were disqualified in the finals in Hong Kong on a technicality. The boy was now a young man in his 20's. His band, "Amo" grew in popularity in the Philippines. They played at clubs in Quezon City, Makati City and Olongapo City.

During this time, I was stationed at Subic Bay Naval Base in the Philippines. Olongapo City was right outside the base. "Amo" was very popular at the "California Jams" Club which was frequented by U.S Military personnel and their naughty and sneaky teenage daughters. For more than 20 years, I had been unaware that my 2 oldest daughters were acquainted with this young man, Arnel Pineda. My next door neighbor's kid even dated one of the guitar players in "Amo". In 1989, "Amo" opened for Robert Palmer in Manila. That year we left the Philippines and Arnel Pineda behind.

In 1990, Arnel and some other members of "Amo" formed a band called "Intensity Five". They were first runner up in the Yamaha World Band Explosion. Arnel won Best Vocalist. Later that year "Amo" released an album in the Philippines. Just before the release, the band broke up and Arnel became the lead singer in a band called "New Age". For the next 16 years, Arnel Pineda performed in the Philippines and Hong Kong under several band names. He also recorded a solo album in the Philippines. In 2006, Arnel Pineda moved back to the Philippines from Hong Kong and formed a band called "The Zoo". They signed with Sundance Entertainment Corporation and released an album in 2007. The band performed 3 to 5 hour shows several nights a week in Olongapo and Manila in 2006 and 2007 performing cover songs by Journey, Survivor, Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, Air Supply, The Eagles, and others. Some of the videos were uploaded on "You Tube".

In June of 2007, guitarist Neil Schon saw some of the videos on "You Tube", contacted Pineda and invited him to audition for lead singer of his band. The audition took place in August. In December, 40-year old Arnel Pineda was announced as the new lead singer. In February 2008, he made his debut. That band was "Journey". Just a small town boy, living in a lonely world, covering Journey songs in no-name bar bands, but he had a voice - and the hair - of a natural-born rock star. Now he's living a dream that goes on, and on, and on, and on....................

CAR REPAIR

My 1991 Camaro RS had been running fairly well. You might ask why anyone would drive a car that is 18 years old. Simple. It's paid for. It doesn't look so hot after 18 years of Florida sun. The polymer coating is peeling off (almost all gone by now). The vinyl on the dash is cracked and dried out. The upholstery is worn and has holes. But the engine is sound and except for the occasional hiccup, I only pay for routine maintenance (oil changes, fuel system cleaning, transmission flush, cooling system flush, those types of things). The latest hiccup was costly though.

Friday night I picked up wifey in Daytona Beach. The car seemed to be running a little funny; nothing I could put my finger on; just didn't feel right. All the gauges looked fine and the "check engine" light was off. We got home without incident. Saturday while taking wifey to the Deland bus stop, I noticed that the temperature gauge was all the way over to the right. The car didn't show any other signs of overheating. There was no steam coming from under the hood that would indicate a hose or radiator leak. The hoses and radiator didn't seem abnormally hot to the touch. At first I thought maybe the gauge was bad. Sometimes a resistor will burn out in a gauge and it will go all the way over past the red line. My tach has that problem; it red lines as soon as I start the car up. I didn't know if the temp gauge worked the same way, but the needle started to drop as the engine cooled so the gauge was working fine.

I took the car to the nearest repair shop which happened to be Xpress Lube. No, they don't just do oil changes. I had my radiator replaced by them before. The guy told me that it just might need a coolant change. In a few minutes he gave me the bad news. After replacing the coolant, he had checked the system and was getting no suction from the water pump. I asked if he would put in a new one. They didn't do that kind of job. He suggested I take it down the street to Goodyear. At least he didn't charge me anything. I got to Goodyear around 2:45pm. It looked very unbusy. They had closed at 2pm. So now what? I checked the temp gauge. It was okay. The coolant refill had cooled down the engine; but for how long? I knew there was a GM dealer with a service shop not too far away. I got there at 3pm. The sign said they closed at 4pm. The tech said it was a 3 hour job and it wouldn't be finished that day. I couldn't leave the car because I had to pick up wifey at 11pm. I didn't want to have the additional expense of renting a car. By this time, the water pump had started to leak.

I checked the temp gauge. It was okay. I wondered if I could make it to Firestone in Daytona (where I usually take the car for maintenance). I knew they were open until 6pm but it was 20 miles away. I kept my eye on the temp gauge the whole way. Miraculously it was only half way over when I got to Firestone. We are all on a first name basis at Firestone. I've been taking my car(s) there for 15 years. I told Robert I needed a water pump, but I had to have the car back that day. No problem. He called his supplier. They didn't have the pump and would have to get it from another store. My heart sank. 3:45pm. 3 hour job. 6:45 pm. They close at 6pm. Robert must have noticed my unease. "Don't worry, we'll have your car fixed today...even if we have to stay late." I signed off on the estimate and they got to work on the car.

Once they started taking the car apart they started finding other problems. The car is 18 years old. Stuff corrodes and breaks. The first thing they showed me was the throttle cable. It was nothing immediate but down the road it may need to be replaced. The hoses on something they call the "throttle block" were all frayed and brittle so they sent out for new ones. The serpentine belt needed replacing but I said I would take care of that (that's something I know how to do and they charge $59.99 to change it). The auto parts guy showed up with the throttle block hoses. They were the wrong size. The correct ones would have to be ordered. Uh oh. "We'll make our own." said Ken (the tech). (why didn't they just do that in the first place?) "Because the manufactured ones come already bent." (I see. Grabs the hose; bends it. Here.) They requested that I go back to the customer lounge. Well, this was taking forever. They had to take all kinds of things off the car to get to the water pump. Chevy must have designed it this way to prevent backyard mechanics from doing the work themselves. It was well past 6pm when they found another problem. There was a pin hole in the thermostat housing. (So duct tape it. Nope, won't hold up under pressure. Anyways, they don't have any duct tape. What? What kind of mechanic are you?). Well, the auto parts places were all closed by now so they can't get the part. It's not leaking now, but it's only a matter of time so it has to be replaced. They put the car back together so I could drive it.

It was now 7:30 pm and I'm out the door. Robert is going to call around today to find a thermostat housing. It's just an aluminum thingie that the thermostat sits in. It was corroded by the anti-freeze (why would they use a metal in the cooling system that can be corroded by anti-freeze?). Anyways, he said if he found one he would only charge me the price of the part, no labor. They only have to take the top half of the engine apart to put it in. He just called. He wasn't able to find the part. But it's Sunday. He will try again tomorrow and give me a call. It's not an emergency type deal. If they can't find one, maybe they can repair it (I'll bring them my roll of duct tape). The car is running fine again and the temp gauge is back where it should be. All in all I'm out $723 not including the housing. As I was leaving, Ken took a parting shot at me. "I love how well your car runs (you mean for a dinosaur?)." "Wanna buy it?" "Ah........no. By the way, that humming noise is your front left wheel. Bearings." "You mean the front right? They said there was a little bit of play in that wheel." "Uh uh. It's the front left." "Great!"

CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS

Since we had the only house in the neighborhood without Christmas decorations and fearing that someone would take percussive action against us I decided it would be best to put up some decorations. I went through my Mom's Christmas boxes. The lights we had used last year were a mess. Most of the light strings were short (and obviously cheap) and I wasn't so sure they were even designed for outside use. Some had melted plastic. I'm sure my Mom had bought this crap at the dollar store. And to top it off, we had just thrown them in the box after last year and they were a tangled mess which I didn't feel like sorting through and testing. So I went off to Walmart to buy some new decorations.

The first thing that caught my eye at Walmart was a huge inflatable Santa. It would make the perfect centerpiece for my outdoor display. It was on sale for $44.99 so I got it. I bought six 60-foot strings of lights for nearly $100. At 150 lights per string that was 900 lights. I planned to weave them all through the bushes in front of the house. That should light up the whole front of the house in Christmas cheer.

I started putting up the Santa first. I plugged it in. There was a sucking sound and I was horrified to see the Santa being sucked into the motor. The switch was set on deflate. Crap! I managed to get Santa untangled from the motor. He had a small tear on his leg. I fixed it with duct tape. (Why not? It holds my car together, too.) I put the switch on inflate and plugged it back it. Santa began to rise up. Then to my chagrin I noticed that one of the guy lines was wrapped around his neck. Santa's face was turning blue and his gloved hands went up to his neck. I turned it off but it was too late. I had killed Santa. I put the rest of the guy lines in place so he would stand straight up and wouldn't blow around in the wind. Maybe no one would notice that I had a strangled Santa on my lawn, well, after nightfall anyway.

Now on to the lights. I got the ones that are wired in series. That means if one bulb goes out, they all do. I was considering getting parallel wired strings in which the other bulbs stay on when one goes out; but they have a tendency to overheat after you have several bulbs out. I didn't want to burn down the bushes (or the house). I tested all the strings. They all worked. I spent the next two hours carefully weaving the strings through the bushes. This was gonna look beautiful at night. I plugged everything in and it worked. I couldn't wait to see it at night.

I used an electric eye so everything would light up as soon as it was dark. I used an adapter in the porch light socket and the light socket over the screen room door so we had no outside lighting except for the Christmas lights. At last night came. I hurried outside. The lights were great. They lit up the bushes and gave the whole front of the house a warm glow. With the lights all on in the background, you couldn't tell that Santa was dead in front. From the street it looked fantastic but there was one spot where the spacing of the lights was a little off. I tugged on the string to adjust it. Everything went out. I must have loosened a bulb. But where? Which one (or more) of the 900 bulbs? I started checking bulb by bulb. Yeah right! For about the first hundred maybe. Then I said to myself, screw this. I went to the dollar store and bought a 2-foot Christmas tree that lights up. I put it on the table at the front of the screen room. It could be seen from the street and looked quite nice. All bright and cheery Christmas reds, yellows, and blues.

So that was that. Inside the house we scattered stuff about the living room and dining room: a candle set that spelled "NOEL", a manger scene, some angels, some elves and some gold foil and tinsel. The next night I went outside to look at our display. The lights in the bushes were still out. The Florida sun had changed the colors on the little Christmas tree. No more reds, yellows and blues. I viewed everything from the street. My house was all dark, there was a garroted Santa on the front lawn and a ghostly bluish light coming from the screen room. "Happy Frigging Halloween Everyone!!!"

STILL SMOKING

Still smoking. I'm lingering at about half a pack (10 cigarettes) a day. I thought I would be able to cut it down right away, but I couldn't. I laid out 5 cigarettes for the day but after I finished them I couldn't make it through the rest of the day smokeless. Well, I could have but no one would want to be around me. So I guess I'll go with half a pack a day for a while longer; let some more nicotine get out of my system, and then try cutting down some more.

The fun part has been the dreams (nightmares). Dancing cigarettes, Santa smoking, the Marlboro man........basically all your old cigarette ads coming to life and tormenting me. "More doctors smoke Camel cigarettes than any other brand." (I'd love to see the lung cancer statistics on that). "L.S.M.F.T.: Lucky Strike means fine tobacco" (and C.O.P.D.).

I'm not trying to quit because of health reasons. It's a matter of finances. I just can't afford $300 a month for cigarettes. Likewise, I can't afford to pay $50+ for a quit smoking aid. All they do is provide the nicotine that you don't get when you cut down or quit smoking. I don't want to change the source of the nicotine. I want to purge it from my body. It's like eating a marijuana brownie instead of smoking a joint. (Is it? I wouldn't know. I'm guessing. I never had a marijuana brownie; at least I don't think I did. I don't remember........hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm).

My brother says that cigarettes are nearly $90 a carton in Massachusetts. He drives 45 minutes to New Hampshire and gets them for about $20 bucks less. Good deal if you buy about 10 cartons at a time. He buys one. Hardly worth the gas. Go figure. Maybe if you cross the state line with more than what is considered "for personal use" they can charge you with trafficking. Smuggling between states? I suppose you could make a good living doing that. I wonder how much cigarettes cost in Georgia.

MY VISIT TO THE DENTIST

My teeth are in terrible shape but up until recently they hadn't caused me any pain. They are yellowed from smoking even though I brush regularly with a smoker's toothpaste. The last time I had seen a dentist was when I retired from the Navy in 1992. Yeah, 17 years. But like I said they hadn't caused me any problems. A few weeks ago, I lost several fillings and a crown fell off; all in the same area. It caused me occasional discomfort that I took care of with some Advil. This past weekend, I started feeling real pain. My face was all swollen on the left side. I found a walk-in dentist and went to see him first thing Monday morning.

Dr. Agony looked like he was in his 20's. His nurse, Sally the Sadist, looked about 70. They sat me down in the dentist chair and took X-rays. Dr. Agony informed me that I had a dental problem which could become life threatening if left untreated. Well, I couldn't have that. To die from a toothache would surely upset the balance of the universe. I didn't want to cause a disturbance in the force. It is my Karma to die from stomach problems. The dentist said I had three teeth that needed to come out. I already knew that. But they couldn't do anything until the swelling was reduced. He gave me a prescription for a really strong antibiotic and a painkiller. I made an appointment for Wednesday morning. I had nightmares Monday and Tuesday night and the medication gave me diarrhea but I was there bright and early this morning.

Dr. Agony looked at my face and concluded that the swelling had subsided enough for him to do his thing. I asked if he was sure. I could come back in a week or two. Nope, today was the day. I have had teeth pulled before, but never three at once. I did know from experience that I needed a lot of Novocaine. He gave me one shot and said: "Well, we'll let that numb up for a few minutes. I thought: "You have got to be kidding." In a few minutes he came back and asked if it was numb enough. (How the hell do I know what numb enough is?). He tapped on one of the teeth and I almost ripped the arm off his chair. "I guess you need some more", he said. (Yeah, about another quart, if you don't mind.) So he gave me 2 more shots. I started feeling number. Maybe that would be enough. He grabbed hold of one tooth and started to twist and pull. He said: "Let me know if you feel any pain." So I did. I bucked up out of the chair flinging Dr. Agony against the wall. In the same move I came around with my elbow and caught Sally the sadist on the chin. I headed for the door, which of course was locked. "Alright, we'll give you some more Novocaine." Sally coaxed me back into the chair. Dr. Agony gave me shots that went far up into my face, numbing everything, my left eye, my nose, even my ear. He climbed up on my chest. The nurse held a strap over my forehead. I couldn't feel anything. In a few minutes he was done. They stuck some gauze in my mouth, gave me some written instructions and escorted me out to the front desk.

At the desk, the receptionist told me it would be $500 for the extractions. (They would bill me separately for the property damage.) She asked if I wanted to schedule an appointment for an examination and complete X-rays. At this point I really had no intention of ever coming back but I just said I would schedule one after I had healed up a bit. I drove home drooling all over myself. I kept feeling my head to make sure it was still there; it was so numb. Finally home and I can't stop the bleeding from the gaping hole in my upper jaw. I used up all the gauze they had given me and started on a roll of toilet paper. After an hour I finally got the bleeding reduced to an ooze instead of a spurt. Then wifey hit me in the face with a sledge hammer, knocking me to the floor. NO, wait, she's in the bedroom. OW! OW! OW! OW! Throbbing pain, building in intensity all over the left side of my face as the Novocaine wore off. God, I'm dying. My left leg is twitching involuntarily. I gulped down a painkiller. I should have taken one before, now I got to wait for it to work. 15 minutes, 30 minutes, 45 minutes...........finally the pain is fading to tolerable levels. Whooooweeee. What a rush! "Hey, hon, come in here........and bring the hammer."

I AM QUITTING SMOKING

I started smoking when I was eight years old. Yes......8. I couldn't buy them of course so I used to steal one or two from my dad's pack of Camels. I would smoke in a small half bathroom that was next to my parent's bedroom. I would lean out the window. That way, my parent's wouldn't smell the smoke when they came home and also I could keep an eye on the driveway. I was too stupid back then to realize they could smell it on my clothes and on my breath. I never got caught....well, at least, no one ever said anything and my dad never noticed the missing cigarettes. I didn't inhale but I still got whoozy and would have to go lie down. By the time I was 12 I had a pretty good smoker's cough.
I switched to Winston's. It helped with the cough but I was smoking more often. Back then cigarettes were cheap (25 or 30 cents a pack) and you could buy them from the vending machines. A lot of these machines were in unsupervised areas like the MTA station so it was easy to get them. I was about 13 or 14 when I first started inhaling. I realized that I didn't like the taste of Winston's even though they "taste good like a cigarette should'. I started to smoke Marlboros. In high school we had about 5 minutes between classes and a few of my classes were located close together. That gave me the opportunity to grab a few puffs in the boys' room between classes. A bunch of us would share a cigarette using a wet paper towel for an ash tray. If someone came in without knocking, the cigarette went into the wet paper towel and into the trash can. If it was a teacher, he couldn't tell who had been smoking and who hadn't so he would just tell us to get to class. If it was someone else, we yelled at him for not knocking. All the kids knew they were supposed to knock between classes. We would even smoke on the school bus going home. Our bus driver smoked and never said a word. Yeah, it was against school policy but no one was going to report it.


I joined the service when I was 19. To my amazement and delight, cigarettes were only $1.10 a carton at the exchange because they were exempt from many of the taxes. I continued to smoke pretty heavily, mainly because you could smoke just about everywhere. There were no bans on smoking back then. I smoked at work, at home, in the car, on planes.......the only place you couldn't smoke it seemed was in a military formation or in church. Over the years I noticed a shortness of breath. I started smoking Marlboro lights. That helped a little but I smoked more cigarettes. It wasn't long before I switched to ultra lights and soon I was smoking 3 or more packs a day. I'd smoke in the shower, while shaving, even in the barber's chair when they let me.


In 1998, a good friend of mine got pregnant. Her boyfriend and I tried to get her to quit smoking while pregnant. She agreed to stop if I would. It worked for a few weeks but then she broke the deal. I managed to stay quit for a year and a half. I never lost the craving and I gained a lot of weight. Finally, stress at work got too much for me and I said "screw it", bummed a cigarette and I was back to smoking. They say that an alcoholic who has abstained from drinking but then falls off the wagon will go back to drinking at the same level as when he quit. This, I found, is also true for a quit smoker who goes back to it. Soon, I was buying 3 cartons every 9 or 10 days.
Cigarette prices started to go up. Companies had to pay the huge settlements that the courts had leveled against them. These were passed on to the consumer in the form of higher prices. I found that generic brands were way cheaper then the name brands so I started smoking them. You get what you pay for. They tasted crummy. But I had the habit and it didn't matter. The feds stepped in and levied higher taxes on tobacco products. Not long after, the state added an enormous tax. Within a year a carton of my cigarettes went from 13.41 to 33.00 a carton. Do the math, 3 cartons every 10 days = $99 X 3 times a month = almost $300 a month for cigarettes. Hooked or not........I couldn't afford that. Anyways, it was a pretty good incentive to come up with some kind of a plan.

It was too convenient for me to smoke. I always had one lit it seemed. My pack was always within reach. When my wife came back from California, I decided I would not smoke in the house any more. She came back on October 18, almost 2 weeks ago. Since then I have gone outside to smoke. Often, I will pick up the pack, remember I have to go outside, and just put it back down. Normally in that time period I would have already smoked nearly 3 cartons. I have only smoked 5 1/2 packs.......from 600 cigarettes to 110. While that is still more than I should; it's about an 80 per cent reduction. The good thing is that the craving is less. I don't seem to be missing the cigarettes I'm not smoking. The next step will be rationing. I will lay out 5 or 6 cigarettes and that will be all I am allowed for that day. In a week, I'll reduce it further. I think that eventually I will win the battle and won't smoke at all......and this time I will never, ever go back.

HOME DEPOT LAPEL BUTTON

A guy just got fired from a Florida Home Depot for supposedly refusing to remove a lapel button that said "One nation under God". Naturally, the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), religious, and patriotic organizations are in an uproar. Readers comments to the AOL article about the firing speak of boycotting Home Depot. They are missing the point. As a condition for Home Depot employment, this guy agreed that only buttons, badges, and pins that were issued by the company could be displayed on his work apron. When he refused to remove the item not issued by the company, he was terminated. End of story. What was printed on the lapel button is irrelevant. What I do find to be curious, is that he wore the button for a year before they asked him to remove it.

Let's look at it from the company viewpoint. They certainly don't want their employees, as representatives of the company, to wear or display anything that would offend customers. They are in business, after all. Yes, they could have stipulated that any item that was offensive could not be displayed on the work apron. But what is offensive? What is not? What is offensive to some may not be offensive to others. Where do you draw the line? Although "One nation under God" is not offensive to me, it is to some. If you start making exceptions to the rule, you open a big bag of worms. When you allow some, but disallow others, that's discrimination especially when religion or nationality is involved. So the company arrived at the most reasonable and most enforceable solution: "Nothing may be worn on the work apron unless it was issued by the company." That would cover name tags, promotional stuff, badges, buttons, pins, etc.
The guy really doesn't have a case unless he can show that the little old lady working in the garden shop was allowed to keep the "smiley face" on her name tag. Then he would have a shot at claiming discrimination. Otherwise, the company's across the board ban along with the fact that free speech does not apply to private companies, leaves him without a pot to piss in. Write a book. What one has to keep in mind here is this: The guy was terminated for violating company policy; not for his love of God and/or country.

The other day I drove by a condominium. Flags of every country hung from windows. Winnie the Pooh, Barney the dinosaur, Disney, and peace symbol banners draped down the sides of the building. What a mess....and visually unappealing. It reminded me of this guy a few years ago. He was about to be evicted for displaying the American Flag from his condo. He had signed and agreed to the homeowner associations rules, including the one that said: "No flag or banner of any kind shall be hung, draped or in any manner visible on the outside of the building." The ALCU, DAR, VFW, DAV were all up in arms. Finally, I believe the homeowners association relented and let the guy display his flag. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's this same condominium.

TORTURE AT GUANTANAMO

Launched on Tuesday, the Close Gitmo Now campaign unites activists, artists and retired generals in a coalition to close the controversial detention camp, used to house suspects captured in the War on Terror. Songs by a number of the acts -- including R.E.M., Nine Inch Nails and Pearl Jam -- were used to stress prisoners, a US Senate report said last year. "At Guantanamo, the US government turned a jukebox into an instrument of torture," Thomas Blanton, executive director of the National Security Archive which backs the campaign, said. "We have spent the last 30 years supporting causes related to peace and justice," R.E.M. said in a statement. "To now learn that some of our friends' music may have been used as part of the torture tactics, without their consent or knowledge, is horrific. It's anti-American, period."Here is the full list of artists or songs used in the interrogations:- AC/DC- Aerosmith- 'Barney the Dinosaur' theme song- The Bee Gees- Britney Spears- Bruce Springsteen- Christina Aguilera- David Gray- Deicide- Don McLean- Dope- Dr. Dre- Drowning Pool- Eminem- Hed P.E.- James Taylor- Limp Bizkit- Marilyn Manson- Matchbox Twenty- Meatloaf- Meow Mix Jingle- Metallica- Neil Diamond- Nine Inch Nails- Pink- Prince- Queen- Rage Against the Machine- Red Hot Chili Peppers- Redman- Saliva- Sesame Street Theme Music- Stanley Brothers- 'The Star Spangled Banner' (Roseanne version, no doubt)- Tupac Shakur

Mwahahahaha. This is too good!
　
Barney's theme song.
"I love you, you love me, we're a happy family........."
"No! No! Stop! I weel answer your questions"

　
Sesame Street.
"Come and play, everything's A-ok........."
"Argggghhhh!! You monsters! I give up!!"

Meow Mix.

"Meow, meow, meow, meow...."

"Ow! Ow! You bastardos! I'll tell you everything."

WIFEY IS HOME

Wifey came home last night. We stopped at Winn Dixie on the way home so she could buy stuff for a salad. We ended up spending over $70. She kept asking me if we had this in the house or that in the house and of course I didn't so she bought some. I had planned to take her out to eat somewhere but she was too tired and just wanted to go home. So I had some reheated spaghetti and a salad for supper and she had a salad and some chicken wings.

Today I found out that I didn't know quite as much about house cleaning as I thought I did. Wifey started going around pointing out things that I had missed or hadn't cleaned well enough. She was right of course. I lamely told her that I had tried to clean this or that but the stains or dirt wouldn't come off. She said they would. After we ate breakfast and walked around the block with the dog, we went to Walmart. I had a list of 9 items that I wanted to get. We ended up spending $171 including about $50 worth of cleaning liquids and supplies. After we got home, she started on the bathroom. I thought I had done a pretty good job in there. Wrong. The black stuff around the edge of the tub that I thought wouldn't come off (I had scrubbed and scrubbed and even used steel wool to no avail) she got off fairly easily using Tilex and a scrubber. She just sprayed it, let it sit for a while, scrubbed it, sprayed it again, let it sit for awhile, scrubbed it. Before too long the black was almost gone. I was impressed.

In between Tilex sprayings, she started going through the linen closet. I hadn't really done much with that. She washed all the towels and sheets and most of the blankets and quilts (some are too big for our washer and we will have to take them to a laundromat with a commercial size washing machine). In the kitchen she started taking everything out of the drawers and cabinets and washing it all. In a little while, the tiled walls above the counters, which I thought I had done a good job on, were sparkling clean. And she wasn't even breathing hard. My approach was to use a standard cleaner and lots of elbow grease. She would use a specialized cleaner (she knew exactly which one), would let it soak and then wipe it off and presto......hospital clean.

Wifey agreed with me that the blinds would do for now but she wants to rent a shampooer for all the rugs. I thought they looked okay but I guess she is right. I don't think they have ever been shampooed. The way she has been eyeing the walls and cabinets and stuff, I know she wants to repaint everything. I'm sure she'll bring that up next. Oh well, at least I don't have to do all the cooking anymore. Let's see what else I can get away with.

I'M OFFENDED BY EVERYTHING

I am so sick of groups claiming they find something offensive and therefore that offensive thing, word, idea, whatever should be removed from store shelves, TV screens, billboards, general use, whatever. Guess what? I find your claims offensive. Stick that in your sneaker.

Team names or mascots have been declared offensive to certain groups. Most notable are the college and high school teams that have had to change their team name. My own alma mater, Natick High School, for years known as the Redmen, was forced to change their name. I think they are the "Reds" now. (Any communists out there find that offensive?). Pro sports doesn't seem to have been affected so much. We still have the Redskins, the Indians, and the Blackhawks. The Devil Rays became the Rays. I guess a church complained. I don't know. The only college team that still bears a native American name are the Florida State Seminoles. They are specially licensed by the Seminole tribe to use the name. "License" implies payment of a fee (to me it does anyway). So are these people that claim to be offended just looking for a payoff? Makes you wonder.

The latest in the "I'm offended by that" (boo hoo) category is the illegal alien halloween costume. Immigrant rights groups are raising hell about it. They claim it is insensitive to the plight of immigrants. Hello? Legal immigrants.....no problem. The only ones that should be offended by it are illegal aliens. Good! Get the hell out! No one asked you to come here anyway. The costume consists of an orange prison jumpsuit that is imprinted with "ILLEGAL ALIEN", an alien mask (ET style), and a giant green card (green card? I thought a green card made you legal.) If you want to buy one of these costumes, you could have a problem. Target says it won't sell it, a few places have pulled it from the shelves, and Walgreens says it won't be sold in stores and it is out of stock online. I guess I'll just have to wear my serial killer costume again this year. Nobody finds that offensive.

CLEANING BEFORE WIFEY ARRIVES

I'm almost done! It's taken me eight days but now the only thing left is to vacuum all the rugs and do some touch up before going to pick up wifey at the airport. I managed to do everything without seriously injuring myself. That should be worth something even if the house isn't hospital clean. Still, it is cleaner than it has been since my Dad passed away in 2003. My Mom wasn't able to move things or even reach up to get the dust and cobwebs above shoulder level. While she was in the hospital and nursing home the first time I had cleaned her bedroom from top to bottom, so I kind of knew what to expect in the rest of the house. Six years of it. The dust had evolved. It told me to go away but I wouldn't listen. Voices from the closets said: "Get out!". I ignored them.

Cleaning the blinds in the Florida room was a challenge. This tiny room has six windows. At first I tried paper towels and a spray cleaner. That didn't work too well. Then I tried a sponge. No good. I was about to say the hell with it. I decided to give it one more shot. I got some Mr Clean and a bucket and a cloth. Worked like a charm! The blinds are actually white, and all this time I thought they were cream colored. And because I used the Mr Clean that has Febreeze in it, the room actually smells good. Like a lilac garden. The blinds will do for now but they will have to be replaced. My retarded sister used to play with the cords and most of them won't open. The blinds throughout the house are in rough shape thanks to her. She used to go up and down on them with a knife like she was playing a vertical xylophone. Heh, think that's bad? You should see her old bedroom with all the stab marks in the walls.

Another adventure was cleaning the bird's cage. I have to do it with the bird still in there. I don't have any place to put her and if I just let her out then Miss April will have a free yellowbird lunch. Naturally she screams and squawks the whole time I am cleaning her cage. April sat and watched, hoping I would screw up and the bird would get loose. I start out by removing all her toys, ladders, water and food so I will be able to lift up the floor of the cage and clean it from inside. I would have to take the cage apart otherwise. Whistler (that's the bird) watches me, still screaming, from one of the upper perches. Then I felt something warm and wet on my arm. I said: "Oh, no, you didn't! I'm cleaning your cage so you will have a nice clean place to live and that's the thanks I get. Don't you know Thanksgiving is right around the corner?" April is ROFL. Once I get the floor clean, I pull out the tray underneath, dump it, clean it up, and replace the sandpaper. Then I just put everything back and vacuum up the feathers, birdseed and dried up bird poop; and I'm done.

I cleaned the shed. It basically hadn't been touched since my Dad passed away. I tried to clean it up while my Mom was alive but I gave up. We had serious differences of opinion about what was junk and what was not. It seems my Dad was as bad a packrat as my Mom.
Whenever he repaired something, like a faucet for instance, he would keep all the old parts. I had to go through everything, deciding what to keep and what to toss. When I was done, I had a trash can full of old hardware and parts that weighed about 300 pounds. I kept all the nuts, bolts, nails and screws and spent about seven hours sorting through them. When I was done, they were all in neat little piles on the dining room table but I didn't have any place to put them. Off to Walmart. I bought a big plastic thingie with little drawers. Worked great. Inside the shed there was this giant shelf. It took up half the shed. All the power tools and other stuff was just piled on this shelf. I took everything out, took down the shelf and hung everything on the walls. Now, I can actually walk all the way into the shed and lay my hands on whatever I need. Life is good.......and my hernia only hurts a little.

Another project was cleaning all the ceiling fans....six of them. They were caked in dust. The best thing I found for that is the nice smelling Clorox wipes. They cut right through the grease and dust. But I had to use a new one for each fan blade. While I was doing the fan in the master bedroom, I noticed that the light assembly was just hanging by the wires. Well, naturally I had to fix that. I knew from previous experience that it would be too hard to reattach it with all the lamp shades on it. Without someone to help you hold it up, it's just too heavy. So the plan was too remove the lamp shades, then take off the cap, and disconnect the wires. Then I could just take the shadeless assembly out to the shed and hopefully find the right size nut in the plastic thingie (remember the plastic thingie?). Well, it seems that some genius had lost some of the little screws that hold the lampshades on and had replaced them with the wrong size. I got two of the three shades off but I couldn't get all the screws out of the third one. It was stuck. So I got down to go get a pair of pliers. Crash! The lamp shade splattered all over the floor. The dog runs in to see what happened. I'm barefooted. I'm yelling at her to get out so she won't cut her feet. The bird is screaming. I managed to pick up the big pieces without getting cut and then vacuumed up the fragments. Now it's off to Walmart to buy a new lamp shade; hopefully just one if they have a match. Nope, had to buy three. Back home again. Sure enough, there is a matching nut in the plastic thingie and I'm in business. There are also the correct size screws for the lampshades, Allah be praised. I get everything reattached and try the switch. It worked. Nyahh nyahh nyahh nyahh nyahh!

I cleaned the bathroom. From top to bottom. I should disgust you with the details but I won't. Let's just say that I used plenty of disinfectant cleaner.

SINGING THE NATIONAL ANTHEM

I am so sick of people botching the National Anthem. Most recently some idiot forgot the second line at the Pepsi 500. Come on people. If you are asked to sing it, at least learn it and practice it before you perform it in public. And if you can't sing worth a crap, then don't do it, okay, Roseanne? For all you people who will be performing it, here are the words. Learn them. I don't want to hear any more "bright stripes and broad stars". I don't want to hear any more "through the perilous night". If you hum a line because you forgot or you screech "of the free", I will hunt you down.


Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,

What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?

Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight,

O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?

And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,

Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.

O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?


For those of you who are wondering, the best performance ever of the Star Spangled Banner was Whitney Houston in 1991 at Super Bowl XXV. Jennifer Hudson is a close second at Super Bowl XLIII in 2009.

HUH?

Here's one for the "you got to be shitting me" file. Obama wins Nobel Peace Prize. What the hell are they smoking in Oslo? Good lord! I used to believe in the legitimacy of this award. Not any more. To put Obama in the same category as previous winners (Martin Luther King, Jr. and his non-violent struggle for civil rights or Jimmy Carter and his work with Habitat for Humanity) is ridiculous. What really raises an eyebrow here is not only has Obama been president for less than a year, but the nominations for this award had to be submitted no later than February 1st, barely two weeks after he took office. It seems to me that the award has been made based only on potential and not actual achievement. Using that thinking, Hitler should have won it in his early days for his promises to unify Germany and raise it up out of the ashes and disgrace of World War One. Of course, after he attacked Europe and murdered six million jews, he might have been asked to give it back.

Some around the world have objected to the choice of Obama, who still oversees wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and has launched deadly counter-terror strikes in Pakistan and Somalia. The Republican National Committee said: "The real question Americans are asking is, 'What has President Obama actually accomplished?' It is unfortunate that the president's star power has out shined tireless advocates who have made real achievements working towards peace and human rights. One thing is certain - President Obama won't be receiving any awards from Americans for job creation, fiscal responsibility, or backing up his rhetoric with concrete action."

Members of the Norwegian Nobel Committee said their choice could be seen as an early vote of confidence in Obama intended to build global support for his policies. They lauded the change in global mood wrought by Obama's calls for peace and cooperation, and praised his pledges to reduce the world stock of nuclear arms, ease American conflicts with Muslim nations and strengthened the U.S. role in combating climate change. (What the hell does combating climate change have to do with world peace?). The citation read: "for his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples. Only rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world's attention and given its people hope for a better future."

Obama said: "I am both surprised and deeply humbled. Let me be clear: I do not view it as recognition of my own accomplishments, but as an affirmation of American leadership on behalf of the aspirations held by people of all nations. To be honest, I do not feel that I deserve to be in the company of so many of the transformative figures who've been honored by this prize......." I agree. Tell them you can't accept it. Yeah, right. Well, maybe in a couple of years they will ask you to give it back.

Oh wait a minute. It's a mistake. He's actually won the Nobel Piece Prize, for that fine piece of ass he's married to.

SPEEDING

This article was on AOL.

People who get speeding tickets are often guilty of more than simply driving faster than the posted limit. Their chief offense? It's getting noticed in the first place. That's the first domino to fall in the ugly chain of events that leads to a piece of "payin' paper."
Here are some common sense ways to run under a cop's radar -- literally:

Drive within 5-10 mph of surrounding traffic. Cops are usually looking for drivers who are going noticeably faster than the other cars on the road. If you're within a pack of cars all going 5 to 10 mph over the limit, you've automatically improved your odds of not being the one that gets pulled over for a speeding ticket, even though you're all technically speeding. The cop has to pick one car; if you go with the flow of traffic, it probably won't be you. And it definitely won't be you if you don't speed in the first place.

Try to stay in the middle of the pack. If you're the lead car, logic says you'll be the first car to run past any cop's radar trap up ahead and get a speeding ticket. And if you're the last car, you'll be the one the police officer rolls up behind. That means the safest place is in the middle -- just like a gazelle fleeing a hungry lion by seeking safety in the middle of the herd.

Find a "rabbit." If you can't find a pack of cars going the speed you'd like to maintain, the next best thing is to find yourself a rabbit -- a solitary driver traveling the speed you'd like to drive that you can follow discretely, about 50-100 yards back. If there's a cop using radar, hopefully the rabbit will trip the trap and get a speeding ticket, not you. And if he brakes suddenly, you have just received your early warning in time to take defensive action.

Do not change lanes frequently, tailgate or otherwise drive aggressively. In addition to being rude and dangerous, you're just asking for a trucker or someone with a cell phone to call the cops and give them a description of your vehicle and license plate number. Always use your signals and be courteous to fellow drivers. It's safer, and it will help you fade into the background.

Avoid the fast lane. Use the far left lane to pass when necessary, but try to stay in the middle lanes when possible. Reason? If a cop is lurking in a cutout along the median strip (or coming at you from the opposite direction on a divided highway) the speeder in the far left lane is the one most likely to become the target. Drivers who get nailed with speeding tickets are often the type who rack it up to 10 or 15 over the limit and remain in the far left lane.

Watch for cutouts and modulate your speed accordingly. On many highways, there are cutouts in the median strip every couple of miles. Usually, you can see these in plenty of time to slow down a little bit in case there's a cop lurking behind the bushes ready to give you a speeding ticket.

Don't speed when you are the only car on the road. If you ignore this warning it's the equivalent of plastering a "ticket me!" bumper sticker on your vehicle. Even if you're only doing five mph over the posted limit, if there's a cop using radar, he's got nothing to look at but you. Lonesome speeding is even more dangerous in small towns, where radar traps and aggressive enforcement by cops can be common. And never speed late at night. Drunk-driving patrols are heavy and cops are more inclined to pull you over for any offense in order to check you for signs of alcohol. Don't give them a reason.

If it's OK legally, get a radar detector. Yes, they're expensive (good ones, anyhow). But a one-time hit of, say, $300 for a decent radar detector is cheaper than even a single big speeding ticket and the higher insurance costs that will come with it. Radar detectors are legal in most states and well worth the investment to avoid a speeding ticket.

If possible, drive a nondescript vehicle. It may not be fair, but it's human nature to notice things that stand out from the crowd. Bright-colored cars, those with loud exhaust or other pimped-out enhancements are the cars more likely to draw a cop's initial attention than ordinary-looking, family-type cars. Since the cop has to single out one car, which car do you suppose is the likely candidate for a speeding ticket? The bright yellow Mustang GT with 20-inch chrome rims? Or the silver Taurus?

If you do get pulled over while driving a fancy, high-profile car, your odds of getting a speeding ticket versus a warning have probably gone up. If you're driving a fast-looking hot rod, the cop is going to assume you use it and deserve a ticket more than the guy in a family-looking ride whose plea that he "didn't realize he was speeding, officer" comes off as more believable.

Be aware that appearances count. That is, your appearance. If your appearance says, "Responsible member of the community," you're apt to get a more friendly response than if you look and act like trouble.

The worst possible thing you can do is combine all the no-no's listed above by driving a flashy car too fast, late at night when you're the only car on the road while looking like you just robbed a bank.

If you do that, expect a speeding ticket. And expect no mercy.

Well, I thought of a few do's and don't's if you are pulled over:

1) When the officer comes up to your window, don't order a cheeseburger, fries and chocolate shake. It's probably not a good idea to sing or hum the theme from "Cops" either.

2) If the cop asks you if you know why he pulled you over, don't respond with: "So now we get to play 20 questions?" or "You thought I was smuggling donuts?"

3) Don't try to play the race card, or any other card for that matter. (you pulled me over because I'm white........you pulled me over because I'm blond.....you pulled me over because I'm a redneck). It pisses them off.

4) Keep your license and registration in your wallet or above the visor. Reaching under your seat, into the glove compartment, or into the console might get you shot. Tell him where you keep them and follow his instructions.

5) Feign ignorance. Intentionally breaking the speed limit will definitely get you a ticket. If he says he clocked you at 83, tell him the last sign you saw said 95. When he tells you that's the highway you are on, appear dumbstruck. He might feel sorry for you because you are such an idiot.

6) Don't try to bribe the officer. $50 or $100 will get you arrested. Any amount he might be tempted to accept is gonna be way more than the ticket will cost.

REVENGE

Revenge is sweet. But it is sweetest when you don't get caught. So it is wise to be careful when taking revenge. You just don't enjoy it as much when you are doing five to ten in the slammer. Never return to the scene of your revenge; it's a sure way to get caught. If you can see the results of your revenge as it happens.....great........but don't go back to the building you set on fire to see what's left of it. The place will be swarming with investigators. Not a good idea. Often you will not see the results of your revenge. Be content in using your imagination to picture the chaos you have created. Here are some ideas:

Take revenge against a supermarket:
Load up your shopping cart (use two if you can handle them). Go to the checkout. When the cashier has rung up almost all your stuff, tell her you need to grab a box of salt and will be right back. Go out the door, get in your car and leave. Do not return to the store for at least a year, and never, ever go to that cashier again.

Take revenge against an airline:
Sit in an aisle seat. As the stewardess comes by balancing 6 or 7 meal trays, casually stick out your foot. An alternative to this would be to wait until the stewardess is coming by with the drink cart and then stick out your foot. When she runs over it, scream in agony, fall on the floor, cry. Then sue the airline.

Take revenge against the kitchen where you work:
As you leave for the last time, turn up all the refrigerators and freezers by 20 degrees. If you turned them off completely, it would be obvious too soon. Merely turning the temperature up means it will not be detected until food starts to defrost and/or spoil. Temperature checks are supposed to be made periodically, but having worked in a kitchen, I know that these are usually just pencil whipped.

Take revenge against restaurants:
Go to a restaurant. Order your meal. Eat part of it. Have the waiter get the manager. Tell him it is the worst food you have ever tasted. Really create a scene. Refuse to pay for it and walk out. If you are still hungry, repeat at as many restaurants as necessary. Do not do this at any restaurant you enjoy because you probably won't be welcomed back.

Take revenge against a bank:
Take 20 or 30 deposit slips and write "This is a stickup. I have a gun. Give me the money." on the back of them. Replace them in the slot and leave. As the security cameras will no doubt have you on tape writing on deposit slips for a lengthy period, wear a disguise.

Take revenge against a Cadillac dealership:
Wear a suit. Take your wife with you. She should wear her nicest dress. Start to look at some of the cars on the lot. Within 2 minutes a salesman will come over. Pretend that you are undecided and let him show you every car, explaining every feature and option. After about two hours, tell him that you think you'd rather buy a Toyota and leave.

TALKING DOG

Our dog can talk. I'm not kidding. Most people doubt it until they hear her, then they are believers. We got our dog from the Humane Society in April 2003 so we named her April. We first met her in March but she had to be spayed before we would be allowed to take her home. I guess we could have named her March, but what kind of a name is that for a girl? The first time we saw her we knew that she was the dog we wanted. She was soooooo cute. I must admit I was a little apprehensive at first. She was a pit bull mix and she was gonna be big when she was full grown. We knew all about the pit bull reputation, but I was certain that how the dog was raised had a lot to do with its disposition. We showered her with love from the start and never hit her. She is part Labrador retriever. She had the instincts of both breeds. She would run and retrieve her rubber bone whenever I threw it but I would have to pry it out of her mouth. She wouldn't let go. She had that bite down and don't let go instinct from the pit bull side of her. She still does, but if I don't try to take the bone away, she will eventually put it down at my feet.......the retriever instinct.
Until she was house broken, we had to keep her in the kitchen most of the time. Even though she had Mama and Daddy approved items to chew on while she was teething, one night she ate the bottom of the china cabinet. The kitchen chair legs didn't fare much better. Another time she was playing with the rice keeper, and managed to dump three cups of rice on the floor. It scared the hell out of her. From that day on she wouldn't go near it and for as long as we had it if she had to pass it she would watch it suspiciously until she was safely by. From day one, I was her Daddy and my wife was her Mama. When she was about six months old, she started talking. At first it all sounded like muted growls to us so we pretty much ignored it. I'm sure what she was "saying" made sense to her and she would get upset when we didn't respond.
Then one day, she said "Mama". We couldn't believe it. When April realized that we were finally listening to what she had to say, she said it again "Mama", plain as day. I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to get her to say "Daddy" with no luck. We couldn't teach her to say any other recognizable words. But now she knew she could get a response with "Mama" so anytime she wanted something she would go up to one of us and say "Mama". Of course, then we had to figure out what she wanted. We have always talked to April as if she were human. She will stand there and look at you and listen. When she doesn't understand something, she will cock her head to one side. When she does that, I just repeat what I said using simpler words. She is the smartest dog we have ever had. When she is looking around the living room for her rubber bone and I tell her "You left it on the bed", she runs in the bedroom and in a few seconds is back with the bone. After her bath I ask her if she wants to put her collar back on. She comes right over to me and puts her head in the collar when I hold it up. If I ask her if she wants to go for a ride in the car, she goes nuts and races over to where we keep her leash.
Now she is full grown and weighs more than 70 pounds. She will be seven in February. Despite all of our efforts, we were unable to ever get her to say anything but "Mama". She still says a lot of stuff besides "Mama" but that's the only word that's recognizable. In March of 2008 I moved in with my mother to take care of her. My wife went out to California. My mom became April's new "Mama". She really took to my mother. She was "Nana" but April couldn't say "Nana" so it was "Mama". After Mom passed away, April would look all through the house for her. If the bedroom door was closed, I would have to open it so she could check in there. She doesn't understand that "Nana" won't be coming back anymore.
Yesterday, I was watching the Red Sox game on TV. April was standing by the back door. I knew she wanted to go out. I told her: "After this inning I'll take you out". She started doing her dogtalk. The more I ignored her the more gibberish she would utter. I finally said: "Hey, I told you, after this inning." Then she said it. "Out". Plain as day. I said: "What did you say?" She said: "Out". So I took her out. I spent the rest of the day (in between innings) trying to get her to say "Daddy". No luck. Stubborn dog!