I read this story in the USA TODAY newspaper. I can’t imagine any good coming out of this. I’m reminded of my own efforts to turn my kids into sports and/or rock stars and I’m ashamed of what I did to them.
Of course, I didn’t go so far as to move to France to get them trained although I did consider spending the weekend in Greene County, Indiana.
Grandpa’s little helper is ready to help with anything and so naturally, when we were getting ready for our trip to Maine, she wanted to participate.
I suppose I should take advantage of her eager willingness to help with the chores because I know when she gets a little older, she’ll be harder to find than a mushroom in May.
When we’re running around the country in our RV, I have found that putting some fixin’s in a crock pot and letting ‘em simmer all day makes for a tasty meal in the evening. Unfortunately, our old CP gave up the ghost this past spring just before we got home. I have been shopping for a new one but Susie keeps putting me off. I’ve argued with her a time or two but she is adamant. No new crock pot.
Yesterday we were in Southern Indiana and she went to a garage sale with our friend Marietta, who ought to know better. They came home with this antique crock pot that I hope someone gave them because they surely shouldn’t have paid for it. 
I want one that will allow me to remove the bowl from the heating element so it can be cleaned. This thing they brought home is a one piece apparatus that you would have to be careful with or you’ll get water in the electrical plug.
I know Susie’s upset at me for arguing over a new crock pot but surely not to the extent she;d make me use that thing. Hell, if I’m not careful, I could electrocute myself.
Hey! Wait a minute….
My effort this week for the Reporter-times.
It seems like I’m writing more and more of these ‘tug at the heart strings’ type of columns instead of my normal sarcastic humor. Maybe I’m ready to tackle a romance novel. I got this idea about this couple, see and the girl gets sick and eventually passes on, breaking her boyfriends heart.
A tentative title is ‘Love Story’. Nice and simple. Whatta you think???
The National cattlemen’s Beef Association has announced that Americans consumed 11.3 billion burgers in 2004 and again in 2006, including fast food and in-home meals.
Where in the hell do they come up with something like that? Surely they didn’t try to divide the pounds of meat they sold by a quarter pounder. That wouldn’t work because when people buy two pounds of hamburger, the meat council has no idea what they do with it. Perhaps it figures in some weird erotic scheme or maybe the dog eats it or maybe it goes into a pot of chili.
I know I didn’t make 8 juicy patties the last time I bought two pounds of hamburger. I made a MEAT LOAF. So you can for sure subtract 8 burgers from that 11.3 billion total.
There’s no way this council could know what we’re doing with our meat.
UNLESS and it’s a very big UNLESS. Are there black helicopters flying over our houses counting hamburgers or has the Tri Lateral commission started slipping tiny microchips in our sandwiches?
I’m glad I’m not paranoid!
Major League Baseball is using specially marked baseballs when Barry Bonds comes up to bat. Barry Bonds breaking Hank Aaron’s home run record makes me really sad even though I don’t even care one fig about baseball; I’d rather watch my neighbors Ford rust.
This business of artificial identification on a baseball just seems to reinforce the whole artificialness of the Barry Bonds saga. The powers that be don’t want someone coming up with a fake ball when Barry and his chemicals power one over the fence. I don’t really know why. it seems very fitting to have a fake ball presented as witness to a fake record.
Sigh!!!!
Breaking news: gunfire at Indiana Black Expo.
Since I don’t work anymore, I don’t wear buttoned shirts much anymore. My closet is mostly full of polo type and tee shirts, none of whom have pockets. I need Pockets. I have ball point pens, clip on sunglasses and a little notebook that I carry around to keep important facts and figures in.
I went to Kohl’s today looking for casual shirts with pockets. I didn’t find any and what’s more, I noticed a lot of dressier shirts with no pockets.
“New trend.” a guy folding levi’s tells me.
What the hell’s going on here? Who’s removing our shirt pockets? Is this some kind of communist plot?
Yesterday’s Indianapolis Star featured a sports story on Tamika Catchings sister, a ’single mom’. For those of you who don’t know who Tamikia is, she plays basketball for the Indiana Fever, Indianapolis’s entry in the WNBA.
I know it was a slow news day (no Barry Bonds although there might have been a Michael Vick update. I forget.)
I am no prude and what people do is their own business but I think the wrong message is being sent by glorifying that ’single momhood’ business.
Why not something on how much she pays in property taxes, instead?
Our flight home from California was a bit harried and I tried to tell people how harried in my weekly column . Since we arrived home, I have found myself at times sitting on my deck watching the planes in the distance as they leave Indianapolis International headed for points all over the globe. I consider myself as a person who is afraid of flying but as I watch the planes, I seem to have forgotten the terrifying parts and now only remember the good stuff.
I have a feeling that if I’d climb on a plane today or tomorrow, I could cure or at least curtail somewhat, my fear of flying. Unfortunately, I have suffered some severe financial reverses this month so I probably couldn’t fly any further than maybe Bloomington, some fifty miles down the road. I could drive there faster than I could fly, if I were inclined to do either.
Of course, there’s that little matter of the plane sliding off the runway in Brazil.
