T.V. show choice

 This is gonna be a quickie.

I watch TV.  I'm sure most folks do too.  What are your favorite shows?  Lemme tell you that I do NOT watch much that is on regular TV:   ABC, CBS, NBC.  I just don't like the shows.  Example:

You start watching a dramatic series.  The plot might be okay.  But, all of a sudden you have to spend 5 or 10 minutes watching the heroes suck face.  They can't seem to just have a show with a plot - there has to be hanky panky.  Whoops, and there they are making out in bed or a corridor or the back seat of police cruiser.  I just get so tired.

Then, each episode has an obligatory rest room scene.  Couple of choices here.  Two guys go in and talk while they unload.  Chee.  Or the guy hero gets mad and follows the female into the restroom - that idea can go either way - girl goes into boys room.

Have you noticed that all shows have at least one guy who loves other guys.  They have a word for this.  Or, goodness sakes, we have to endure two females sucking face.  I can't stand it.  Why can't we just have a good ole story with a plot, development, and solution.  Look at an old John Wayne movie.  None of this major make out stuff.  I just get so bored.

And the musical talent shows.  Just not for me.  The girls all seem to think yelling a high note makes it all better.  The ones with other physical talent - these are acts we use to see at the circus or on regular entertainment shows.  Oh, and of course, if you can have a little kid to dance or sing in the middle of a group of 20 others, life is so good.  Just not for me.   I haven't even talked about the excited audience or the "brilliant" judges who know so much more than me.  Moving on.

But, that is not why I am writing.  

I have started watching the police shows - real live policemen doing what they do.  There is the JAIL shows.  There ARE the half hour COPS - COPS REVISITED whatever show - Plus on Friday/Saturday night you have the ONLINE show - LIVE POLICE WORK  lasts 3 hours with an extra hour show before the main event.  And, I haven't even mentioned the police shows where they solve a murder followed by the lawyers battling it out - followed by a 5 minute thing where the victims families all get together to praise the murdered person and to release a bundle of balloons.  It doesn't matter if he/she was killed while selling drugs to minors.  We still praise the person.

I have started watching a bunch of these.  What is great is:  not suck face or making out.  Crazy people for sure. Police methods galore.  I've learned:  if you get pulled over, shut up.  Don't argue.  Don't be too nervous. .  .   .  I don't, but if YOU smoke funny weed in your car, leave the windows down.  Breath mints.  Oh, and SHUT UP.  Answer the questions.  If he says smile, then SMILE.  If he says get out of the car, GET OUTTA CAR.  Driving without a license - open liquor container - small packages with white substances - all that stuff.  It can wait till you get home.  Don't give rides to loud mouth people.  They will get you put in jail.  The police have a dog?  Don't move.  Shut up.  Watch just a couple of the shows; you will learn a few valuable lessons.

But, that is only related to why I am writing.

I watched a Jail show - Jail somewhere in Texas - The skinny kid was arrested and put in Jail   Don't know what he did.  Don't really care.  Eventually he is put on a long cement bench next to a phone and told he could make a call.  Cops left.  He picked up the phone and made his call.  Question:  who did he call?  Wife, girl friend, mom or dad, brother, best friend, guess.  

He called 911.  Of course the jailers were informed by 911.  They went into the phone room - in force - and read the guy the riot act.  What did he say?  "I didn't call 911." More riot act.  Finally, he was told to make his call but DON'T CALL 911.  He said, "I won't call 911.  I didn't do that!"  The jailers left.  He made his 2nd phone call.   C'mon now.  You surely see where this is going.  Who did he call with the 2nd call?  Who?

HE CALLED 911 AGAIN!!!!

Of course he did.  The show ended before I could see him drawn and quartered.

Luv ya, mtz

politics

 I would be amiss if I didn't say that Trump seems to have pulled this off.  I like what he has done.

Pardon me for rambling

 Here I go again.

Yesterday, I weed ate part of the yard.  Several people in our HOA get upset if the grass in your yard grows over the curb towards the street.  It's been about 2 months since I used the eater on the curb.  It was time.  

I have a couple of weed eaters:  a smaller battery powered that I bought for my wife to use a few years ago when she liked and could go outside and work in the yard ---  a gas powered honkin' machine.  The smaller one is hand held and for short people.  It will cut little stuff.   The gas one will cut most anything.  It hangs from a strap from your shoulder.

The little one wears me out since I must bend over to reach the grass (I am not tall, only 5'9").  The big one wears me out since it is heavy .  Not much more to recite here.  I had a young couple borrow the big one to do a special job.  When they returned it, they had named it "The Terminator."

Today I am resting.  My knees - thighs are tired.  My right forearm has a muscle pain.  Still the job is over.  Next will be the back yard.  That is a killer.  Did I mention that I had to blow off the street because these same HOA folks don't like to see grass in the street.  I say, "Get a life."  Grass in the street?    Makes me tired to think of it.

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It was reported this week that Alaska has had a heat advisory listed for this week.  Alaska - Heat Advisory.  This was reported as the first Heat Advisory issued for that State.  Woe is me.  Woe is me.   Wait.  The rest of the story.  It seems they are changing the terminology.  It is not new.  They use to call it something else.  Now, it is called a heat advisory.  Cheeee.  As a P.S.   Fairbanks is looking at temperatures of 85 degrees.  Move on.

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A Texas Ranger rookie pitcher, Kumar Rocker, was doing a great job - 5 scoreless innings.  He started cramping up.  There was a conference on the mound.  Then, the first baseman ran to the dugout and got TWO bottles of pickle juice for the pitcher who drank them both down immediately.  Pickle Juice.  I didn't know that.  After another pitch or two, a ball boy ran another bottle out to the pitcher.  That is 3 bottles of pickle juice.  They figured he had set a world's record - 3 bottles of pickle juice while still on the mound.

After I read this, I noted that my leg was hurting.  I got a SMALL glass and poured about 3 fingers of pickle juice.  Wheweeee.  That will set you free.  Give it a try.  It must be good for you.  Surely.

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My daughter gave me a Dad's Joke 3000 for Father's Day.  You press the button and it recites a corny joke; yes, a Dad's Joke if you will.  Here is the last joke we heard:                   How do you make a Tissue dance?

You give it a little Boogie.

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There was a newspaper feature today about the Sculptor galaxy.  Y'know.  A bunch of stars huddled together.  We live in the Milky Way Galaxy.   Facts presented go way over my head.  I have trouble comprehending all of this.  Example:  a light year is about 5.8 trillion miles...the distance a beam of light travels in a year.  5.8 trillion miles.  That's a lot farther than going to the grocery store and back.  Still this Sculptor Galaxy is  - ready? - 11 million light-years from here.  Do the math.  If I did it right, that is 63,800,000 miles away.  I may have messed up that number.  But, can you wrap your head around that number?  That's more than my salary as a teacher.

So you bundle up your family and head for that galaxy.  A couple weeks go by.  Now, you have arrived.  This galaxy is 65,000 light years across - from one end to the other.    Do you go straight?  Turn Left?  Make a right?  All those stars.  We have 9 planets (I still like Pluto).  all those stars.  If each star has 9 planets...  Frankly I cannot imagine numbers like this.  Think I will just sit here - look out the window - and watch my neighbor mow his yard.  That I can comprehend.

mtz

I am in the hospital -?

 So it is Wednesday.

Past Friday about 2 - 3 pm my stomach was hurting.  Okay, there is this "TMI" thing - Too Much Information. My entire report here is TMI.  Back to Friday.  My brain said, "Go the bathroom, stupid." So I did.  In my house we call  this a Good Job.  I did a Good Job - perhaps, you might say a GOOD job.  Over.  Decided to run down for the mail.  Run Down means get in the car and drive to the mailbox.  I don't run noplace - spell check says that noplace is not a word.  They're wrong.

Before I got out the door, I returned to the Throne for another urgency.  I did a Good Job.  I got the mail. Upon my return, it became evident I should schedule another session in the water closet.  In the next hour, sessions 4 &5.  I was not delivering the product by this time (only liquid); but, wait, the stomach was still hurting.  That made no sense - not to me anyway - again, remember I was trained in a music school.  Bowel Education was never in my resume.

I sat in my "big Daddy" chair and did a little moaning.  Moaning is a well-earned trait of the elderly; yes, you learn to moan as you age.  My daughter walks through after a bit. I told her that I was in no mood to help get supper - fix what she wants and feed the Grammy, Wife, Mother - whatever title you prefer.  She did; and, the nagging began.  I gots a thermometer stuck under my tongue (started to say "stuck between the cheeks."  I had a fear someone would think we we using a different kind of thermometer.  We're not.  We use the mouth thermometer.)  I was in the upper 98(s) point something.   A while later I topped the 99 mark.

Christine thundered, "We're going to the ER."

"Fine.  My cost is ONLY $65 to go."  My tummy was hurting all across the front an left side below the belly button.  Christine talked to my big-time nurse, daughter-in-law, Penney, on the phone.  We eliminated Appendicitis.  We were urged to go.

My chosen emergency room is the Baylor Scott & White hospital of Temple.  I've had a couple of experiences with them that were not pure.  I think it is a fine hospital.  They seemed to have taken care of my prostate cancer properly with minimal discomfort.  Their ER.  You walk in this door and veer to the right through 2 machines looking for sub-machine guns and machetes.  They have a nice lady greeting you and a policeman in full gear watching over all.

I was sent to a window the wife/daughter were given badges.  Yes, you need stinking badges.  Registration and payment over, we sat.  We're in the big room with a bunch of sick people.  Why izzat? My name was called, and we were escorted to Triage room 13. Much was said; much was nurse tested; much was left undecided. Whisked me off for a CAT scan.  Whisked me off for an EKG.  Whisked me off for an Xray - that one didn't happen.  Whisked back to R13.  I have been in this room before.  You look up at the ceiling and in the florescent light is a big black dead cockroach.  I pointed it out.  Betcha it will still be there upon my return someday.

Back to waiting room.  Back to 13.  Met doctor.  I have a problem with my lower left bowel - Took a while to learn Colitis in the bowel .  They explained it to me in 4th grade terms.  For that I was thankful. No sense getting too smart.  I was moved into a permanent room down on the bottom floor and given drugs.  It was decided that wife\dot would go home.  Mum needs the rest.  

Somewhere in the 11 o'clock time slot, I was informed that a room was waiting in the TCU...transitional care unit, room 20.  Nice people up there. 2nd floor.  Still in my street clothes, rejecting the hospital gown offered, I lay there freezing.  I finally got a blanket.  Threw my coat over me.  4 hours later I was offered a heated blanket.  YES!!  The nurse guy adjust the thermostat up to 76 for me.  Nicer. I spent Saturday in the TCU.  Think on this.  Transitional means?  I'm going from one place to another.  What is that other place?   New room?  Heaven? Hell?  Downtown Chicago?  The family visited me in my transition.  Dot Laura/Hub Tom arrived and visited.  All left. This is Friday. 

Did I mention that I am on a liquid diet.  Lots of sugar/carbs in a liquid diet.  Also, no substance.  My blood sugar started up.  They shot me with insulin.  Then, they would feed me with more high sugar/carbs liquids.  Go figure.  Guess they get a discount on water and insulin.

Give or take 11 pm.  We're off to a new room on the 5th floor.  They had a 3 letter name for that floor too.  But it was more permanent.  Sunday arrives.  Family returns.  Nurses come and go.  Drugs and insulin given.  More liquid for breakfast.  Have you ever tried to eat Cream of Wheat?  I just couldn't finish it.  Doctor visits.  It is generally thought that my side is getting better & I would probably go home on Monday.  it is now Sunday.  I can live with that.  Doctor called and got me solid food - a cheeseburger to begin.  Nighttime was bbq brisket.  Not bad.  So it is about 4 - 5 o'clock, Sunday.  

This is the reason for the whole blog:

In walks this nurse-type.  Very pleasant young lady.  I've had nothing but fabulous, helpful people helping me this whole outing.  My side still hurts a bit. The lady starts talking and explains a new Medicare program.  I am on Medicare, pay for it every month.   Get this.  The program sends me home.  BSW nurses come see me 3 to 4 plus times a day at home.  They administer all medicine. 

Once a day I talk to a doctor via computer with the nurse standing there.  They provide all the drugs, iPad, nurses, and IF I DESIRE they bring me my meals.   According to Medicare, I am still in the hospital.  I cannot leave the house without approval.  I just lay there at home watching TV and welcoming nurses into the house.  Oh, for me to get back home:  I must be transported in a BS&W ambulance.  Medicare says I am still in the hospital.

All of this costs nothing.  I've already paid my hospital bill - via required Medicare rules.  If it goes on for a day - a week - a month, whatever, no extra costs. Presents:   I am given a blood pressure thing, one of those finger oxygen measuring things, a thermometer, a new blood sugar measuring device, etc.  And some little stuff of no consequence.  It seems the program is for sick people who are not badly sick.

I sign up.  Sunday, about 10 pm, I say goodbye to the hospital staff and am "Whisked" away in the back of an ambulance.  Looking backwards out the back of an ambulance is a bit of a different experience.  We arrive at the house & I am pushed to the door in my ambulance bed.  I climb out and go into the house.  It is about 10:15 or so.  A Nurse follows me in for my set-up and indoctrination visit - plus more drugs.

I won't go through all the nurses visits and the nurse personalities.  You couldn't find nicer folks.  I got my drugs, insulin, watched TV, and ate my own food.  The TV doctor was helpful.  I made him laugh once.  Tuesday morning arrive.  The doctor discharged me "from the hospital."  I was left my drugs - not quite, but for this report, yes.  Now it is Wednesday.  My pills are being used.  I'm on my way to recovery.

I will refrain from explaining my problems over the past 4 days with having a bowel movement - sometimes called a BM.  Actually, I have a Bachelor of Music (BM) on my resume.  Maybe I will explain that in the next.

If you lasted for this whole thing, bless you.  I write these so that maybe someday I will have a great grandchild who wants to learn my personality.  He/She will read these and know me a bit better.  We will see.

Y'all take care.  Getting old has its downfalls.   Now I will groan for the sympathy.

One thing for sure.  I have a good family to usher me through all this.

mtz

Mother's Day plus potpourri

Here's the thing. A couple of weeks ago, on a Monday, I started this missive about Mum's Day.  I dood have da best intentions.  So, here it is a 2ND Saturday, still not completed.  I am sure you are all feeling embarrassed for me.  Someone should.  It is the nice thing to do.  We move on.

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Yesterday - Mother's Day

What more can be said?  Mom's Day - Mum's - Mudder - Is this a USA only thing?  Never gonna research that question.  Our local mom had a pretty good day...I think.  Took her out to eat on Saturday to avoid the typical Mom's Day standing room only crowds.    That worked pretty well.  Then, on Sunday I looked at the wife and asked, "Would you like to go get an ice cream at DQ?"  I believe her eyes lit up and a smile crossed her face.

the daughter was working.  I texted her to meet us when she gets off work & I'd buy burgers all around.  That is how we ended up at the Dairy Queen in Jarrell.  It was a lovely time had by all.  DQ made a mistake and put an extra patty on the wife's burger.  She was unable to finish the burger - too much food. A Snicker Blizzard was ordered...(small size of course).  She was able to finish the Blizzard.  It seems that ice cream does not fill up your stomach.  Eat all you want.

Her best present from me was a new straw purse with multi colors - Walmart.  I do go all out.

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now for some potpourri ( prefer to say Pot Pouring)  These are quickies that I have catalogued in my little notebook.  Can't say any of this will make the Universe better.  

Today - Sat. 24 - 2 days before Memorial Day:  We drove to Waco (takes an hour) & met my youngest dot & hubby for lunch at Rosa's.  It was a good day.  I overate.   Bought gas for $2.37 at Walmart in Waco.  The day was presented as a late-Mother's Day (with gifts).  Nice day.  Nice drive.  Traffic wasn't too bad going either way which is remarkable for I-35 ... sometimes called the most dangerous highway in America.  Probably those who travel hwy #1  or I-95 might disagree.

I do overeat at Rosa's.  They tell me that Ozempic helps you lose weight by making you feel full.  I don't know.  I do know that it doesn't do that for me.  Diabetics take Ozempic - lose weight.  Not me. Nope.  The prostate cancer shot I take makes some people gain weight.  I fit in here somewhere.  Yes, Prostate cancer shot.  It is generally the same one they say Biden will probably get.  My cancer didn't go into the bones so far - it was caught earlier they say.  I just do what they say.  I am one of those that believe that Biden has had prostate cancer all the time he was President.  There is something wrong her.

The line that I hear most:  Most old guys die "with" prostate cancer - they don't die "OF" it, just "WITH" it.  Interesting concept...playing with words.

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Dot #1 had to travel to Fredericksburg on Friday for work.  Her hospital group was doing an inspection of a Fredericksburg hospital.  She said it was a well-run hospital.  Naturally, since it is that time of year, she bought home a couple boxes of peaches.  These are the CLING peaches.  Not my favorite because you have to work harder to eat it.  Anyway, today, she peeled same and made a Peach Crisp - see google for a recipe.  Good tasting.  Way too much sugar for me; so, I cheated on my sugar.  But, Good!

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Google.  Young folks don't understand how google changed information collecting.  I read up today on the Wienermobile- a vehicle sponsored by Oscar Meyer wieners.  They have 6 of them.  It was on the news today.  Yesterday, the 6 lined up at the Indianapolis 500 raceway and - - yes, raced.  The AP news report in the paper was cute.  There is no byline listed so I can't give him credit.  Some of the one-liners from the paper - thinking hot dogs now, not dachshunds who I dearly love - 

The winner was from the Southeast "He proved to be the big dog" in the race.  The winning "margin was about a half a bun."   It was a "wiener-take-all race."   The No. 3 dog "managed to roast the rest of the Wienermobiles..."  Their top speed was about 65 mph. And, "they were right in each other's grills down the backstretch..."  No. 4 dog was leading the race when smoke began to pour from its rear, "and that dog was cooked."  The eventual winner broke out on the last rap "just in time to relish in the sweet taste of victory." This was an event to "kick off a summer of wieners."

I loved that story.  Look it up on Google.  The Wienermobiles travel all over the States.  You can actually rent one for a party.  Look it up for more spine tingling news.  The driver make $38,000+ a year to drive.  All sorts of info.  Over and out.

May the Franks be with you

mtz

  

flaw in my plan

 I keep a small notebook in which I write ideas for blog topics.  

Today I read my last night's entry (I awoke in the middle of the night and penned it).

The entry:   "I've Got One.  Do You?"

I have not the slightest idea what this is suppose to mean.  No clue.  Maybe it will come to me in a dream tonight.  Don't wait up to see.

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Since I'm here ... I made a mistake the other night and watched a show on PBS I think.  It has to be a local show in which they show a scary movie.  The hosts talk and talk and talk.  Someone has a different idea of humor than I.  

The best part is they showed an episode from a Flash Gordon serial from the late 40s or 50s.  Buster Crabbe plays Flash Gordon.  It is such a rotten show.  But, still, I enjoyed reliving the Flash Gordon serial.    We didn't get the Flash Gordon show out of the Lubbock TV stations.  Instead, once or twice a year my family would visit relatives in the OK city area (Edmond, etc.).  Flash Gordon played on their TV stations.  OK City TV stations had better programming than Lubbock's 2 stations - in my opinion.  And, to close, yes, Flash Gordon was terrible even back then.

over and out

Dr. Zarkov

MAY DAY

May 1st.

I don't know why May 1st is important to certain groups.  I seem to remember that USSR does a big May Day parade - showing all their weapons.  Why?

Some of you may not know this:  some communities celebrate May Day as a festival here in the USA.  

Okay, take in consideration that I am 84 yrs old.  

When I was in the 4th grade we moved to Crete, Nebraska.  Crete is just a few miles from Lincoln.  My father worked for Standard Oil of Indiana.  He ran a truck for the oil exploration in that part of Nebraska.  The wildcatters or whatever they were called, would drill a hole in the ground.  He would lower a listening device down the hole.  Dynamite would be set off somewhere and he would create a map of where oil might be under the ground.  He was a logger - not one who cuts down trees - but he would "log" what they were doing.

Because of this job, after WWII we traveled to several towns in Kansas and finally,  Crete.  From Kindergarten through the 5th grade, I spent only one year at any school.  We found a permanent home when I hit the 6th grade, Levelland, Texas - home of the Lobos  (some might spell it Loboes, but they would be wrong - we Lobos know how to spell).  

So there we were in Crete Nebraska for the whole year.  I can remember a few things clearly about  that 4th grade year.  Here they are:

1.  I was in the Crete H.S. band in the 4th grade.  The band room was located on the 2nd floor.  I had to climb a fire-type escape to get into the room.  I cannot remember any music that we played other than the Concert Bb scale.

 

Skip over this part if it is too complicated.  I played the cornet.  it is a Bb cornet.  When you play the Concert Bb scale, a cornet player plays the C scale - an alto sax plays the G scale - Trombones, flutes, bells, tubas etc. play the Bb scale...and so forth.  In my first day of band - remember that I am only 9 years old   - the director told us to play the Concert Bb scale.  And I did - I played the Bb scale.  That makes me one note off the entire time - ugly.  Finally, some big kid sitting next to me explained what I should play.  Understand, it is remarkable that a 9 year old can play the C scale - but, I also knew the Bb scale.  We move on.

 

2. In October of that year, my father bundled us all up for a drive to Lincoln.  President Truman was running for office.  He came in on a train - standing on the platform of the back car - we heard his speech.  I actually heard President Truman make a speech.  Who else do you know who can say that?  2 more things happened that day:  As we walked to the train station, police (secret service) stopped my brother Marshall - he'd of been about 13 or 14 yrs old.  They made him take his little brownie box camera back to the car.  they were afraid he might kill Truman somehow.  So we have no photos of that day.  None.

The second thing was that it started to rain as we drove home.  It rained so hard that places were flooding.  We live at the top of a hill.  My father had to pull over and stop.  WE walked to the top of that hill in the rain because it was too dangerous for him to drive up the road.  Really.  We had a 1948 black Hudson.  Fine car.  I believe people died in that Truman flood.

Another memory:  It snows in Nebraska.  There were piles of snow everywhere.  My parents, in their wisdom  bought us shoes that had ridges on the soles.  Several years later these were called Waffle Stompers ... where you stomped, it looked like a waffle.  At school recess, a big thing to do was to climb up a snow slope and slide down  on your feet.  The other boys wouldn't let me because my stompers cut ridges in the slope.  I was deprived.

In the spring, brother Jim & I walked to a playground and played baseball with the others.  I had really never played baseball too much - still haven't - but I had a glove.  They put me in the outfield with the other inept players.  My lesson learned:  someone hit a ground ball straight at me.  I put the glove down for the ball to enter.  Instead the ball hit the glove and rolled right up my arm and slugged me in the nose - one of first nosebleeds.  Since, I learn to use my free hand on the back of the glove to stop the ball.  Blood doesn't look good on leather.

FINALLY (you say), In April, the teachers began to take us outside to practice.  They had this pole with cloth ribbons handing down.  A student took a ribbon and walked in a a circle around the pole. Half of the students went clockwise, the other half went counterclockwise..  As you met a student, you went to the left of the student - then to the right of the next one - to the left of the next - etc.  This wound the cloth around the pole in a most pretty way.   Around you went until it was completely covered.

And, finally again, May 1st arrive.  Everyone turned out.  The children dressed in Dutch costumes with wooden shoes.  I even had a Dutch costume.  As the day went by we partied and did the May Pole event.  Never in my life have I seen this done since.  Maybe it is just Crete.  Maybe it is Nebraska.  I don't know.  

Now you know why I enjoy May 1st without the USSR parades.  The May Pole was a happening.  I wonder if it is still done today?

see ya,

Mtz

p.s.  I'm not going to proofread this.  Anything wrong?  Fix it.