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Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Dinner And A Haircut

I hadn't realized what a recluse I'd become until D and I took our son and his wife out to dinner Sunday afternoon. Other than meeting an old classmate of mine a couple of weeks ago for lunch, it was the first time I've gone anywhere of any substance in 8 months or longer. O'Charley's has a weird way of wrapping their silverware - they don't just roll it in a napkin - they lock it in some way, and as I ripped it open those utensils flew off the table, and we had to ask for new ones. I guess they've made them childproof or something.

Anyway, I don't have a lot of luck in restaurants and Dondra had to hold me to keep me from bolting out of the booth. I remember once I couldn't figure out which goes on the lap; the silverware or the napkin and I kept doing back and forth "trials" until it finally "kicked in" and we all had a big laugh over it. That's the visual/physical stuff.

Also still having trouble with the written/spoken words.

For example, D and I were talking about a friend of ours who suspects she may have something going on with her ovaries but has no insurance, so how's she going to afford to see a gynecologist, etc.?

So I came out with this gem: "Well, she really needs to have those things autopsied and specufied. I'm sure we can find her someone who will see her?"

Well, you know what I did, right? I mispoke the word "biopsy" and somehow, in my addled brain, pictured a speculum, a gynecological instrument, and there I went. We were in the car at the time and Dondra sprayed the windshield with her Snapple, as I uttered those appropriate, well thought-out words.

Just another day in Bill's "Bat(shit)Cave".

We're doing something new now called "Word of The Day", and all I have to do is remember what it is when I'm asked, but I've been driving D crazy because I also try to use it in a sentence.

Last week, the word was tragic. So Sunday, after a jog around the track, someone asked me if I'd enjoyed it, and I answered, "Tragically, yes."

Oh yeah: the haircut Monday. My stylist looked at me and said, "When's the last time you were in here, Bill????.

She checked, and it had been almost 4 months.

If this is a trend, I don't see myself going to my 45th year class reunion.
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Some cognitive function news for ya.

Seems that recently some researchers at a university in North Carolina discovered that playing World of Warcraft (an online "first person" game) can help in the retention of cognitive functions.

I've known that for almost 4 years, and it's why I started playing it in the first place!
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Please don't forget to click to feed. You can set yourself a reminder on their website in case you don't do it because you forgot my reminder here.

The Animal Rescue Site

Thanks

Bill

Monday, February 20, 2012

Time

Time.

Man!!! Where does it go???

Seems like only yesterday I was playing my drums, shaking my long hair and having a great time playing in rock band after rock band.

Now, here I sit ("broken-hearted. Paid a dime and only farted," - an old pay-toilet joke.) 62 years old, feeling it in my bones and my brain, but not yet in my body (except for having to wear the incontinence "Speedos" of course!).

I ask myself sometimes, "What are you still doing here, dumb ass? She doesn't look a day over 50, and you're just taking up space! Get the hell off the planet!"

But then she does or says some little thing that makes me remember why I fell in love with her in the first place, and I gain strength from that to make it through one more day.

"Madondra". (She hates when I call her that, but I do it because I like the way her eyes narrow and blaze as I say it, heh-heh!)

Dondra: A woman for the ages. A woman for all seasons. And a friend to all she meets.

She's who keeps me on "the planet!"
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The songs I chose really are only slightly related to the subject of the blog, and one of them is a "re-run", but I hope you enjoy them anyway.
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Lord, I hate sequential segues (coming out of one subject and going into another of the same), but "time" is running out for many of the four-footed ones. They sit in shelters nationwide, not knowing what they've done to wind up this way: in a cage and/or a run, but surely missing the warm "human touch" some of them may have enjoyed for a short time.

If you have a place in your heart and home, please adopt one or more of them, and get them the hell out of the hell they are in now. Don't cause them to be thrown off the planet yet. The "Rainbow Bridge" can wait.

Tell y'all what: I'll play you a HAPPY song that you and your new friend can dance to once you get them home, okay? This will be y'all's theme song, because your love will be "happening" to them!
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The lyrics if you'r singing along:

Hey life, look at me
I can see the reality
'Cause when you shook me, took me, outta my world
I woke up
Suddenly I just woke up to the happening
When you find that you left the future behind
'Cause when you find a tender love
You don't need to take care of
Then you better beware of the happening
One day you're up
When you turn around
You find your world is tumbling down
It happened to me and it can happen to you
I was sure, I felt secure
Until love took a detour, yeah!
Riding high on the top of the world it happened
Suddenly it just happened
I saw my dreams torn apart
When love walked away from my heart
And when you lose a precious love you need to guide you
Something happens inside you, the happening
Now I see life for what it is
It's not a dream
It's not a bliss
It happened to me and it can happen to you
Ooh, and then it happened
Ooh, and then it happened
Ooh, and then it happened
Is it real?
Is it fake?
Is this game of life a mistake?
'Cause when I lost the love
I thought was mine for certain
Suddenly it starts hurting
I saw the light too late
When that fickle finger of fate
Yeah! It came and broke my pretty balloon
I woke up
Suddenly I just woke up
So sure, I felt secure
Until love took a detour

'Cause when you got a tender love
You don't take care of
Then you better beware of

The happening

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As always, if you can't adopt, then please click on this link
The Animal Rescue Site
to feed them, and remember to do it daily.

Thanks!

Bill

Friday, February 17, 2012

More Regrets.

Still not to the deepest and most regretful of all of them, but don't lose interest! There are several more to come which may make you wince and/or shake your head.

I regret very much treating my brother like shit most of his young life, and this goes back to the "me-me-me" life I led and am still leading, regretfully, today.

My Mom and Dad were both very industrious people and worked hard until they died - Mom sometimes 2 jobs plus her volunteer work at the hospital in Villa Rica. My Dad, retired after 20 years in the Army, went right to work in "millville", AKA "Fullerville" - a suburb (for lack of a better word) of Villa Rica. There he inhaled cotton dust until it finally killed him in '95. Mom died two years later, after we both had taken a vacation trip to Germany on my USAir employees' pass.

An in-depth entry about my parents is in the works.

But back to my Bro': Because they worked so hard and were gone much of the afternoon and evenings, it fell to me to help with his homework and just generally look after him and make sure he didn't go crawling around underneath the house, where he might have to be dug out later (Sorry, Bro'!).

So those were busy times for me, having to do my own homework, helping him with his, trying to keep up my extra-curricular activities (the high school band, my rock groups, plus working part time), and I'm afraid I began to resent my brother for taking up so much of "my" time!

My girlfriend and I would talk for hours at a time on the phone in the laundry room of the house (I think that phone cord was about 30 feet long), and the poor little guy used to knock on the door and ask for help with a math problem. I'd help, but not without a lot of groaning and sighing.

I think the worst thing I ever did to him (No. I never hit my little brother) was make him go to bed when it was still light outside just to keep him out of my hair so I could talk to my girlfriend in peace.

I also used to scare the hell out of him when I'd put so much wood in that old pot-bellied stove we had, that it turned it red-hot. Our house was what's known as an ante-bellum style and had no insulation in its walls. During bad winters, you could actually see the ice forming on them.

If you follow this blog on a regular basis, you'll recognize a term I use quite frequently: "saving grace".

Well, our father was my brother's saving grace.

I didn't like to fish and hunt, but Skip did, and so he wound up closer to Dad than I was, and I was closer to our Mom, being that we both spoke fluent German and had our homeland in common.

She knew I hated being in the USA. She didn't, but there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it, so about all we had was our memories, and then later, in my 40's, our repeated trips home together through my airline job.

So my brother and I grew up and we look back on those times and laugh, and I am glad about that for him because I could have done some real damage, not knowing how to be a "parent" at age 15. Plus, he's so big he could beat the tee-total shit out of me today!

So, Skip. All is forgiven, I hope?

Better be, Dude's in charge of my funeral/memorial service! LOL!

Speaking of which, it's in my will that I am to be cremated, but that I want my ashes mixed in with dip and salsa and served to everyone who comes to pay their finals, so I'll always be a "part of my beautiful friends!" Awwwwww!

Don't worry! he ain't goin' for it!!!! HA!

Love you, mah Brotha!

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One thing both me and Skip inherited from our folks was their love for animals. "Mr. Ed", our old white mule, whom I taught to gait till we were the envy of Stockmar Road; cats, dogs, pigs we never could slaughter because our Mom named 'em, and all the strays left at our fence because people knew we'd give them a good home.

Hell, Mom used to cook for our critters, and sometimes they ate better than we did! (that was a joke, btw).

Skip and I are glad we got that from our folks, and he has carried on the tradition, I am happy to say. He reads the blog and clicks the below icon to feed the unwanted pets, and I hope you will as well.

Thanks for reading, and if I haven't piqued your interest yet, don't worry. I soon will. *wink, wink, nudge nudge*.

Bill
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The Animal Rescue Site

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Regrets? There's Been A Bunch

I've always liked that Frank Sinatra (written by Paul Anka) tune, but never liked the part where he sings, "......too few to mention". Bullshit. I bet if some thought were given to it, that phrase could be written the way it appears above.

I'll talk about a few of my own while I still have a little time remaining on the planet. I'm sure the list will be added to and amended several times throughout the course of this little diary/blog or whatever you'd like to call this drivel you're kind enough to read!

It's your call as to whether what I'm about to write has any merit, but it does need to be written down and remembered. Consider it a "work in progress" ("regress"?)
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My first regret (note I did not write "deepest") is that I never "forgave" my Dad for bringing me, my Mom and my brother to the USA. I had many opportunities to do so; the very last one as I watched him die. I was with him almost constantly (my Dad was also my patient) at the end and although we (I) spoke of many things, this one was never mentioned.

Why not?

More than likely it's because I'm a self-centered SOB and deserve that "narcissistic" label a former SO hung on me.

Ever notice how close those acronyms (Significant Other and Son Of a Bitch) are to each other? Just add one letter and you go from a loving relationship to a hateful one.

So yeah. I was majorly pissed off being "torn away" from my home country, Germany, and "dragged" over here.

My mistake was allowing that grudge against my father to follow me into adulthood. No matter what I may have felt in the beginning, this wonderful man was only doing what he thought was best for the little family he'd begun in post-World War II Germany. I don't know what would have transpired had I not awakened in New York (I was given a sedative because I kept running away at the airport) USA, but I do know I've been given some golden opportunities here and I should not ever forget this.

I just noticed a huge error in a paragraph above which I will not correct because it's further evidence of my "Me-me-me" personality. Did you catch it as well?

I wrote: ".....I never forgave my Dad.......".

What the hell, Bill????

It should have been me asking his forgiveness, dammit!!!!
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I can already see that this "regrets" thing is going to involve more than just a 1-2-3 list if it's going to make any sense to me or to you, so we'll let this entry be "Installment Number 1", if that's okay with y'all?
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It was 19 degrees here in West Georgia during the night, and while talking to my good friend Trace in Mississipi online last evening, he excused himself to go and let their three dogs (he and his wife adopt rescues) in, and it made me think of all the unwanted pets who don't have a warm place to spend the night (or any part of a day). So, as I always do, I'll ask you to consider adopting a pet from your local shelter - an elderly dog or cat if possible - and give them a forever home.

If you can't, then please click on my icon at the bottom of this blog entry to help keep them fed.

Thanks Y'all!
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The Animal Rescue Site

Monday, February 6, 2012

Hello Again, Darryl! Lunch With My Very First Friend From 44 Years Ago


It was awesome seeing you again today after how many years - 44????

Darryl was the first kid ever to befriend me following my family's emigration to Georgia in 1960. Specifically a small town named Villa Rica - not really the friendliest place for a kid of 11, who barely spoke any English.
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So there we sat today at noon: two old guys with similar afflictions (he with Parkinson's added in), throwing memories at each other, correcting them and, at times, guffawing so loud it caused the Longhorn's clientele to turn and smile as they caught little wisps of our conversation.

We couldn't have looked more different had we been born on separate planets. Me with my brown hair shaggy with bangs in my eyes, Beatles' style, and he with his snow-white hair and flowing beard, making him look like a pirate (his favorite historical character), his once flame-red locks now having given way to the "salt" of the ages.

"I still remember your phone number", I said, and repeated it to him.

"And I remember yours", and, with a wink told me exactly what it was.

"As kids, were we magicians with refrigerator or washing machine boxes, or what?", I asked, and then recounted that said boxes served as spaceships, castles, bunkers and tanks. For what seemed like days (our days - as long or as short as we wanted), we role-played our way through the space age, medieval times and chivalry and World War II. I was kinda glad we were on the same side (The Allies) during that last time period, because I was having enough trouble in real time being a "soldier in the German Army".

Intrepid hunters we were! Yes, indeed!

Many a night would find us camped out in my back yard using the two shelter halves (somewhat larger than a pup tent when buttoned together) our Dads had kept from their days in the service.

We played Army until dusk and built ourselves a small fire to cook our K-Rations on. Dessert were PB&J's from a CARE package sent from way back in the "States" by our Moms.

Yes? You have a question?

'Why was there an extension cord snaking out the back of our tent?'

Well see, we were ordered by our commanding officer(s), "General Mom" to always have a source of light in case we needed to escape in a hurry from the squirrels....errrr, enemy. We couldn't very well try to grab our weapons and other gear in the dark, could we?

We also needed the lamp in order to read the  comics (Batman, Superman and Sgt. Rock) we needed in order to enjoy some mini R&R.

Yes. There were 6 cords hooked together.
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There is much more "history" to be written from both our memories, but today was a very good start.

Thanks, Darryl,  for what I know is only number one of our historical series
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Afterword

Sitting across from my friend and listening to his words, I was glad I'd brought a pen and notebook, because the memories flew across the table faster than the speed of light.
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Please remember to click and feed our four-footed ones!

The Animal Rescue Site

Thanks,

Bill