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.

Google analytics

Okay - stay with me here.  I was looking at my blog and it starts giving me an  "More on Google analytics"  bit.  Now, I can't say I know what they are talking about.  But, below is a chart they gave me with   ABSOLUTE NUMBERS.  I'm guessing these are views of this here bluggy.  I don't know -  since the inception some 10-15 years ago?  Or is it only the last 12 months.  Whatever - look at the top numbers.  Does this mean I have made friends in China?  Or is it just the old communist trolling for info in order to make me more poor than I am.

As I  have said on more than one occasion, retired school teachers are not flush.  We know how to flush (move the little handle down - flush).  I've known how to flush for years.  There is not much of a learning curve there.

So look at the numbers       - perhaps you have an opinion?  if the chart doesn't show up - put your curser in middle of the line and do some backspaces.  I think it will all show up.

The important thing is  I show   USA  at 393,  China at 190, Singapore at 35, and Hong Kong at 19.

moving on>  mtz

United States      393

China            190

Singapore        35

Hong Kong        19

Germany        14

Netherlands        6

United Kingdom        5

Belgium        4

Indonesia        3

Australia        2

Canada        3

France            2  all the rest are 2 or 1

South Korea

Bangladesh

Brazil

Ireland

Japan

Mexico

Palestine

Other

That was the week that was

 Back in 1962 there was a TV show named:  "That was the week that was."  I looked up the date.  It was a news show as I remember it. Google says it lasted 2 seasons and was nicknamed TWTWTW  or  TW3.  And according to them it was a satirical comedy.  Maybe (probably) I was too stupid or innocent or out-of-touch to realize it was satire.  I thought it was a news show explaining what had happened that week.  But, of course, I wasn't into politics at that time.  It could be I wasn't really paying attention.

So lemme see here now.  1962.  November, they said.  I got married in August of that year.  I was working my first teaching job half-day in Littlefield and attending classes towards my Master degree in Music Education in the afternoon at Tech. I'd leave Littlefield about noon - eat a sandwich on the road - and get back to Tech to make marching band rehearsal at 1 p.m.  My wife was finishing her Bachelor Degree in Education.

We lived in duplex type of thing in the north part of Lubbock.  It was truly a poor part of town.  If there were other students living there, I didn't know it.  $50 a month rent.  We bought a Siamese cat ($15) that we named Mice  (pronounced Mis-Sy).  We were so grown up.  Cooked our own meals.  Made our own beds.  Washed our own clothes.  Paid our own bills.

I remember waking up one night and that cat was perched on a shelf above out bed just looking down at us.  I think it was getting ready to attack.  Siamese cats can look pretty scary.  About 6 months later we gave Missy to a Levelland farmer.  He said the cat would be happier on the farm.  I have often wondered if this was just a thing created by my father because he didn't like cats.  

There are a couple of things I remember about teaching in Littlefield.  Boy I was innocent.  It's a wonder I lasted past the first week.   The head director had me teaching some beginner type classes by myself.  He would disappear and take a break.  High school band was the first hour.  He had them marching to King Size March.  I hate that march.  So many flats in the low brass.  Trombones never could find 5th position. I did learn some things about marching songs that season.  Keep in mind I was about 3 years older than the senior class.  I was so naive.

The week that was.  

Facebook

 I really dislike facebook.  Mine is nothing but advertisements and connections to junk sites that can only be interesting to - well, it's best not to say ugly things about other people.

Today on facebook,  I actually tried to post some stuff and put a few comments in other places. That is over for a while.  I found a message to me from 2017 from a lady with the last name Metze in South Carolina wondering if we were related.  I responded to her.  Actual answer would be, "I don't know."  But, my Metze family did come out of the Carolinas...years ago.

for those of you who are worried - I got my stiches out and am fine.  However, I caught myself messing with the scar twice last night in bed.  I've decided to continue with the bandaid at night.  Now, if that bit of news doesn't make 60 Minutes, I don't know what will.

I have to get out of bed several times in the night.  It is not for a snack.  Before I had the prostate cancer thing, I was getting up every hour almost on the hour.  Now, I have been able to go 2 or 3 hours at a time.  Even had a 5 hour sleep the other morning interrupted only  briefly by Anna barking outside my window at 7:30 a.m.  

Still, I have some leg/knee problems.  They don't really hurt - just a big ache at times.  I have found when this happens at night - I take care of my business - then, I take Sadie out back for her business turn - and, finally, I sits on the side of the bed for 5 minutes or so (trying to read facebook since I have little else to do at 4 a.m.).  When I return to the sheets, I seem to drift off okay without leg aches.  Thus, as you see, I return the conversation to Facebook.  It is truly mindless [both facebook and my conversation].   I RALLY do enjoy reading stuff about relatives, friends, and past students when Facebook lets me.  Commercials come first apparently.

That's enough.  Take care. m

nothing of importance (nothing to write home about)

 It's been a while.  thought I should just make a quick note or two.

#1  Happy Easter.  Hope all of you remain Good Eggs in the view of the world.

#2  Noted that my fee for keeping this blog is coming due in 3 days.  When I'm inspired, I enjoy writing and rambling.  $17 a year - about.  It seems like a worthy investment in nothing that will make the world a richer place.  Note:  I still do not have them put advertisements on my missive.  Who reads a blog and clicks on the advertisements?  I just cannot believe anyone does that.  I wouldn't.  But, times have changed.  Ads seem to clutter my page and make me feel beholden.    If'n I'm gonna' be beholden to someone, surely I can find someone better than advs.  (please note previous sentence had 3 consecutive words with asterisks - a world record for me)

#3 MOH Surgery.  Look it up.  If you see a dermatologist on a a regular basis and were out in the sunshine in your youth, you'll meet a Moh surgeon someday.  Skin cancer.  They's got's big words for that type of cancer, but who really needs to know all those big words if your not in the business ?  (only 2 asterisks that time)  A few years back my wife had a nose problem.  We drove up to a doc in Dallas who cut a hole in her nose.  It healed.  this doctor was about 7 ft tall, was raised in South Dakota, very pleasant - associated with U.S. Dermatologist Partners chain.  Wonderful experience - considering.

Naturally, not to let my wife out-do me, a couple of years later, they cut off part of my nose too.  This time a young lady (all doctors are young to me now) cut on me.  She sang through the whole process.  I inquired and learned she had studied voice - I forget where.  Nice change.  Now, my present  derm doc in Belton, noted a red spot above my upper lip a year ago January.  He asked me to watch it.  I did.  it didn't go away.  I told him this Jan.  He did an autopsy - wait, that's not the right word.  I wasn't dead.  He tested the spot.  We agreed it was bad.  And about a week ago, a young female doctor cut a hole above my lip & put in some stiches.  Yes, she had me in stiches.  She hummed her way through the whole process.  I wonder if she is the same doctor?

Short Moh explain:  Named after the doctor who invented it - Moh - I think calling it "MO" is funnier - they remove a part of you and put it under the microscope.  Somehow, they are able to see if the entire cancer was removed.  In theory, they come back in and take a bit more off.  Frankly, there is no pain.  The first TINY needle stick is the Worstest thing.  After that, you are numb.  No pain, No gain (or loss).  So once again, the skin problem is eliminated until they find another little red spot.  If you look at me or my wife straight on, you'll see the nose is not symmetrical anymore.  Mo !!!

My neighbor down the street had Moh on his head,  Apparently they stretched his skull skin over the cut area in such a way that it was quite tight.  I want to remark that it made his eyes slant upwards.  it didn't; but I thought that was a descriptive explanation - and funnyto see.  He probably would disagree.

#4  this is getting longer than I anticipated.

#5  I've noticed that I get my best ideas for this blog, blug, bluggy as I lay in bed waiting to drift off to  sleep land.  Who remembers what you think at that time of night?  I gots me a little pad of paper which is beside my bed.  I can make notes now.  I don't dwell on remembering inconsequential thoughts as I drift off.  Wish I had remembered to get a pen too.

#6  We'll call this last:  For several days, the weathermen have been saying, "Rain Friday, Saturday, and Easter Sunday.  It's coming.  Inch to 1 1/2 inches."  This morning at 5 something, rain finally came.  We have all of Point .17 inches.  That is less that 2/10ths of an inch.  Cheeeee  ruined my Easter morning.

 Closing.  Would you like for me to spend a while discussing the political scene?  I do have some strong views.  Maybe some other time.  Politics is a sure way to lose friends.

love ya, Happy Easter, say hello to a bunny wabbit

mtz 

An Irish Blessing

May your glass be ever full

May the roof over your head be always strong

And may you be in Heaven half an hour

Before the Devil knows you're dead.

=================================

And, yes, even with a last name of Metze, I am a bit Irish.  Of course, my first name is Irish too; but that's not the bit.  I come from an ancestor (Great Grandfather) name Toole.  He was not an O'Toole.  Because of certain legal problems, he changed his name to Smith; thus, my dearly departed Mother t'was born a Smith.

He and his brother [the GGfather] went to a dance in Arkansas.  During that evening, a fight ensued.  His brother shot and killed a man.  I don't quite understand the next part completely.  Because the brother was in danger of being hanged by a mob, my Great Grandfather confessed to the murder/shooting and was sentenced to jail.  Rumor is that my Grandfather actually witnessed the shooting - thus, explaining certain things about his character.

Eventually, he escaped prison - there is a story about a mass breakout at the Arkansas prison located along a certain river - he was one of the few to get away...several were killed.   Rejoining his lovely wife ( "LOVELY" - Afterall, she was my Great Grandmother, you know) he moved into Kansas and eventually Oklahoma.  He took his wife's maiden name, Smith.  This was in the late 1800s.   My mom was born in 1910...so...

My Grandfather somehow ventured back into Kansas and met my Grandmother Olive, a farmer's daughter.  The King Family farm in Kinsley, KS.  They were married and moved to Kaw City, Oklahoma where they had a hoard of children.  My Grandfather James M. Smith was a barber for most of his life.  I understand he was not a truly nice man - not a sweetheart.  I don't know - just rumors.

And, now you have it.  Yes, I be Scottish too; but, we'll save that Stone for another time and place.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!!

my Irish eyes are smiling

m

VAL PART DEAUX - a quicky

 Talking about St. Val's yesterday.  Left this out.

Temple paper sold 2 " adv for people to send Valentine's to loved ones via the paper.  Apparently they were able to sell about 16 nice advertisements.  A couple were from people lamenting a spouse who had died.  And so forth.

My two favorites:

One was from 5 dogs and 1 cat to their "mama"  Guardian Angel Mrs. Fran Rodriquez in Moody, Tx.  That lady has one cute collection of cats and dogs.  I'm betting someone else planted the adv.

The 2nd was from a mommy to her 2 dachshunds:    Jethro Coal & Dachs River.   Jethro Coal is a black doxie.  Really  precious of course.

this was a quickie.

m

Valentine

 Happy St. Valentine's day to all, young and old and in-between.

Took wife to eat at Dynasty Chinese Restaurant today.  It was a nice meal.  Lots of seafood for me and lots of chocolate deserts - oops, make that chocolate desserts.  To top it off, we visited Buccees, the post office, and the bank...even topped off my gas tank.  This is what St. Valentine's Day is all about.

Our Humor:  Dynasty Chinese.   In the car we call it  Dy -- NASTY.   Of course it is not a bit nasty.  That's not the point.  You take a good word and mess with it.   If it were nasty, we would NOT go there so often.

Now, take that Chinese buffet restaurant in Killeen.  2 stories follow.   Look it up on the web.  There are several photos of roaches climbing the wall etc.  I've never seen the roaches, but look it up.

and, this Chinese restaurant was robbed last week.  At night, someone broke in and took all the cash out of the register.  Then, they rolled the safe out the back door and took it.  The owner, later lamenting the theft, said he had $60,000 in the safe.  They were hoping to get some back via insurance.   $60K == EXCLAMATION POINT!  He said it was there because the next day was payday.  Let's suppose he pays once a month.  A $60,000 cash salary for "how many people?"   I'm rolling my eyes a bit.  Pay your people in cash, too.  This just sounds screwy to me.  Wonder if the government is getting their share?  I don't know nuthin.  I'm just supposin.  The owner hinted that he thought it was an inside job.  Really?  I do feel sorry for anyone losing that much money.  But, something sounds off.  No news reports on it during the past week.

And, just for the record:  I have begun to work on my IRS taxes for 2024.  Hopefully, I'll finish before the deadline.  I use a CPA in Corsicana to figure it for me.  Sharon Mahoney, CPA.  She does a great job and is timely.  And, the government leaves me alone when she is finished. 

Now if you are a crook and are going to try to use this tidbit of information to steal from me, don't waste your time.  IF, and I say IF, there is a refund, it won't be enough to buy a Whataburger and certainly not enough to go to DY-Nasty.  You're a dreamer if you think differently.

I may be old.  And I am.  But retired teachers have no money.  We struggle to get by for the month-to-month.  I can guarantee.

Finally, I know someone who had a birthday this month on the 5th of February.  Think about it.  If you were born on the 5th, your birthday would be  ***  2-5-25  ***  What a great birthdate.

later,

mtz

 

blood pressure - exercise - and other potpourri (or pot pouring)

 potpourri   - I always thought it was pot pourri with the space.  Spell check disagrees.  I don't doubt.  Some Chinese AI guy might lop off my head.

-------- blood pressure -------------

I have asked this questions over and over.  I have never gotten a straight answer - just some casual "don't worry about it;  you're fine" answer.  I really wanted to know.  I'd bet few of my readers (wherever and whenever and whoever they are) have rarely heard an answer worthy of an Academy award.   Here it is.

I read the Temple paper in the morning.  I'm pretty thorough usually.  I end by reading the funnies and doing the sudoko.  It is a process.  Then, the papers are piled in a basket for my #2 daughter who takes them monthly to line the cages of her rabbits.  A great "final" solution.

In an article this morning by Lauran Neergaard, I read about a guy who has blood pressure problems.  They tell me:  "don't worry about it;  you're fine."  So, I suppose I am.  I can usually count on a little less than 120 over 80   (120/80).  Her article actually briefly explained the numbers.  Have you ever heard an explanation?  I am going to quote her now:

"Two numbers describe blood pressure.  The top, "systolic" pressure is the force blood puts on the walls of arteries as its pumped out of the heart.  The bottom "diastolic" number measures that same pressure but between heartbeats."   How about that?  Was that so hard to explain?  Nobody has even tried to do that for me.  I've asked.  But, let's continue:

"Normal is less than 120 over 80.  Blood pressure naturally fluctuates throughout the day, higher when you're physically active or stressed.  but when it stays high -- consistently 130 over 80 or higher, according to most recent guidelines -- it stiffens arteries and makes the heart work harder."  So there you go.  Now, I know.  It makes no difference in what I do; but, now I know.  I bet I could have found this on google.  

The article continues to explain how to take blood pressure and so forth - describing when medicine is appropriate.    "Medicine is a must once hypertension reaches 140/90."   See - I betcha regular ole doctors and nurses never thought about creating a one page sheet with this type of info on it.  It should be on light blue paper - save yellow paper for urinary explanations.  I am saving this article in my file of 'never re-read' articles that I've been saving for decades in a small box under the bed.  

On the same page ------- exercise---------

of the Temple paper was a too long article about how to exercise when you get old (me) to help you strengthen  you sense of good balance.  Several simple exercises  Ask me in the comment section and I'll quote from that article.   Moving on.

--------------

My wife has a new Indian name since she broke her pinky finger:  Princess Crooked Paw.

I was driving to Lubbock one time.  After passing Cisco ( a lovely squirrely town ) I noticed the Interstate had a mile maker:   316   From that day forwarded (not being the most religious person in my family) I envisioned some local church sneaking out and attaching the word  JOHN to that marker.  It would read  JOHN 316.  A small piece of wood painted with holes drilled - then bolted to the top of the marker. Do it in the middle of the night when no Hwy Patrol will arrest you.  Think how many 316 mile markers there are in the Continental USA.  Sure, some stupid kid will get killed in the traffic.  Interstates are not the safest places to walk.    Perhaps there is another Bible quote Deuter../.Duteromi/ Duetterom ... never mind - go to the Book of Mark - that's easier to spell.

Last thing:   SWMBO    I had an Uncle Bob (Robert Lee Metz).  One of his common comments was  SWMBO.  This is how he talked about his wife Ruth.    She Who Must Be Obeyed.   Thought that was funny.  My wife now has a T-shirt with that imprinted.  More on Uncle Bob later.

mtz

ramble

 I did not have a storied career in education.  My name is not up on any building or football field.  Alumni groups do not call and beg me to attend their 25th graduation festivals.  Nobody really remembers me in the band business unless I taught them.  Even at that, most have moved on to have a life without me.  And, that is the way it should be.  Anyone still obsessed with his high school band director after 25 plus years must be a bit deranged.

I know when I left high school, I never went back to visit with my h.s. band director - or choir director for that matter.   I did sing in the choir at my choir (Mr. Benningfield) director's funeral.  All of Metze boys just happened to be in town, so we joined the Methodist choir for that occasion.  It was nice I suppose.  My mother sure did like it; but, she could be easy to please when it came to her 4 boys.

There were a few things that were certainly fun & perhaps noteworthy (to coin a phrase by a musician).  I cannot remember the year or other names or much detail ... and I believe I've mentioned this one before.  I was hired to play trumpet at a dance.  I think it was in Hobbs, NM - but it may have been in Clovis.  If Hobbs had a military base in the early 60's, that was it.  It was a big dance band - sightread the songs - fun - good Lubbock musicians throughout the band.  The driver had one of those giant Cadillacs from the 60s with bench seats.

I rode in the front in the middle - happens when you are one of the youngest.  I think brother Jim played trombone that night.  The driver was a big guy.  I cannot remember his name.  Played bass fiddle.  He was very well know in the Lubbock jazz music scene.  I think he carried his bass in the trunk of that massive Cad.  I know, we use to carry a bass fiddle in the trunk of my 1963 Pontiac.  Big Trunks.  

I was quite impressed with the Cadillac.  Most of all was it's automatic headlight dimmer -- 2 lane roads (another reason to think it was Hobbs) - as we met a car on those lonely nighttime backroads of the Texas Panhandle, the car would automatically dim it's headlights.   I was so jealous that my 56 Chevy didn't have that.

Anyway, the job was a 3 or 4 hour gig.  It was for a military base dance - probably officer's club.  I do feel certain it wasn't the local VFW hall.   We'd play about 50-60 minutes or so; then, we'd take a break.   Out of nowhere came these guys carrying harmonicas - all kinds of harmonicas.  They were THE HARMONICATS.  I had seen them on the Ed Sullivan show several times.  They were a fun group.  I'd have to say that our "breaks" that night were more fun than most.  That's all I can remember about the night.  You can look the Harmonicats up online.  They sold over a million copies of "Peg of my Heart."   I always say that I played backup for the Harmonicats.  That wasn't really true.  Still, that is what I said.

----

FYI - JUST asked Google who was the short guy  who played with the Harmonicats.  Turns out I was a bit wrong.  Johnny Puleo (look him up).  Dwarf.  Look him up and learn a bit of history about harmonica groups of the 50s and 60s.  He also appeared in the 1956 movie Trapeze.  I still intend to say I played backup for the Harmonicats.  When you are 84, you can make up all sorts of things.

----

Just like when I was in Texas Tech and played in the orchestra, we played back up for Captain Kangaroo one concert.  He never knew I was there.  Still - it was fun.  There was the time the Four Freshmen came to Tech for a concert.  Afterwards - we "special" people got to go back stage and watch as the Freshmen did a little joint concert back stage with 4 guys from the Tech choir department.  That was fun to share.

But, probably one of the most fun things I got to do ------- after I graduated and began teaching, I got a call from my old trumpet teacher, Richard Tolley.  He needed me to come play2nd trumpet with the band for the Barnum & Bailey circus.  Yes, for 3 - 4 performances, I sat on the floor and sightread marches and waltzes while the Barnum & Bailey Circus did it's performance.  I remember being a bit worried at the time because I did not have a musician's union card.  But, nobody else seemed to mind.  Playing for a real circus.   Nobody asked me to quit my real job and join the circus.  Going to clown college was a bit of a stretch for me.

There were probably other things.  They'll come to mind later.  The birth of my 3 children ranks right  up there - but, y'know, that really is a different thing.

see ya, mtz

I've still got it

 I'm old.  I have wrinkles where muscles should be.  Black spots and other uglies have taken over my seeable skin.  These spots are not dangerous; just ugly.  I am a male.  All males think (or hope to believe) they are God's gift to the other gender - yes, just for the record, there are only 2 genders.  I am one; girls are the other.  

But since I turned "old," only my wife thinks I'm cute.  And, I'm not sure about that.  It wouldn't matter how many my photos I would display of my younger years, I'm still not a beauty...even then.

--------------

My wife was given a gift card to Dairy Queen at Christmas.  Nice.  Monday, we drove south to the town of Jerrell which is the closest DQ to Salado.  Christine (dotter) drove up from Georgetown and met us for the festival.  Good stuff was consumed.

Sitting in a corner booth to my left was a mama, daddy, son, and daughter.  I think the dot was probably about 2 to 3.  Who knows.  Blond.  I just happened to glance in that direction and she peeked around her daddy's head, rolled her eyes, and flashed me a beautiful smile.  I was indeed captivated.  How do you spell mischeavous ?   spell check.  "mischievous"   She had a mischievous smile - a come hither glance - in her purple outfit she was something.    

YessireeBob, I still have it at 84 yrs.  I kept glancing over.  She couldn't keep her eyes off me.

The kicker:

As we left I walked over to the table and said to the mother, "Your daughter has been flirting with me."

She laughed and explained, "She is a He."

YessireeBob, I still have it.

m

bang up time

In my previous post - I thought the title about "bile" would attract the weird reader.  Apparently I was wrong.  In the past, my off color titles have shown to have more readers.  I wonder why that is?  

Now this post is not off color or even a hint of it - we'll call this a warning for those who don't want to waste time unless there is some naughty meat available.  Warning.  Warning.  Spoiler Alert.

Might I point out that we have arrived in the year 2025.  In this year I will turn 85.  I don't care what you say; that is getting old.  You may have heard that old people don't feel old in the brain dept.  It's the arms and limbs and back and other physical attributes (not a good word here) that feel off kilter.  About this age you can start saying anything you like and it will be treated kindly.  Old gaffer - talk bad - okay though - he's older than dirt - let's laugh at his mutterings.

I live in a great neighborhood.  In spite of having the title Amity attached, it's not bad.  Nobody really bothers you here.  You can have a big ole shed out back - about any size - nobody cares.  Have 2 or 3 sheds, it's okay.  Don't get the yard mowed weekly, nobody pushes you.  I have weeds.  Boy do I have weeds.  I'm doing what I can to get rid of them  No letters in the mail about weed growth.  [who can afford to hire a company to do weed control?  not a retired teacher, that's for sure.]   

On legal days, we can shoot off fireworks with nary a complaint.  Sure, some are issuing request to limit your noise because of dogs and post-war disorders.  Loud noises seem to affect those two groups more than others.  I can tell you that we have a 3rd group.  It (also) affects little old 84 year old wives that want to go to sleep about 10 p.m.  Consequently, this affects little old 84 year old husbands who want to keep peace with the spouse.

Our neighbors spend WAY too much money on pretty, loud fireworks.  For cheap people like me, they are fun to watch (free).  On every appropriate holiday, the big fireworks start just after dark and continue liberally until after midnight...or as I like to say "Midnight:30."  It is just not one neighbor; it is MANY neighbors.  The people behind us put on quite a show.  Again, it is fun to watch...big ole honking displays.  Neighbors enjoying the evening...have another hot dog and beer..."Hey, Ethel, watch this one!"

Knowing this was in the works for New Years eve, I was able to get my little Sadie out early to do her duty. Then, night began to fall.  All you-know-what broke loose.  Our dogs hid out in certain places - usually close to one of us.  Night fell about 7:30 or so.   The displays never let up.  The noise seemed to echo off the houses and the sheds.  My wife sat up in bed messing with her phone past midnight.  

At midnight:45 I was able to get Sadie out to "Flush" her system.  Even then we (she & I) heard 2 booms.  Sadie wasn't sure she was up for this adventure.  Job finished we went straight to bed.  The wife had the light out and was muttering something about spraying people with a water cannon.  

Daughter Christine's dogs never left her side.  About 2:45 I had to get up for my Necessary.  I asked Sadie if she needed to go out.  Popped right up - dogs forget and forgive easier than humans.  And, Yes, at 2:45, in the middle of her full squat, someone nearby set off a big Boom!   2:45!!! 

Cheeeeee!  I VOWED TO DRIVE THE NEIGHBORHOOD AT 7 IN THE MORN BLASTING OPERA FROM MY CAR SPEAKERS!!!!

👅👹😈😡💩💥😍   REVENGE!!

Oops, slept till 9:30 - forgot.  I hope y'all had a big helping of nice black-eye peas and ham.  Corn bread would have been nice too.

m

bile what?

 This is a bit "not me."  Short & sweet.

So, I did my duty on the throne on Monday.  Everything moved right along.  As I cleaned up, I noticed my product  (poop for those who are lost) was green.  Green.  Am I sick?  Why is it green?

Any guesses before I go on?

===========

The 30th was my daughter's 60th birthday.  We had an early family party - cake / presents etc. The party was on Sunday before my visiting family left to drive home in Lubbock & Waxahachie.  It was such a hurried up event, that my daughter even made her own cake - even though I did put candles on it.

Now my daughter had a vision:  Why should a red velvet cake be red.  WELLSIR, it is because you put red cake coloring in it.  But do you have to use red?  Of course not.  The choice is yours.  My dot decided to use Blue cake coloring.  Thus, we had a Blue Velvet Cake with white icing.  It was really pretty.  

I've entered a new era of my diabetes.  At 84, I am going to have small slices of things like birthday cake.  I'm hoping that I am not killing myself.  But, a small slice of blue velvet - if it doesn't cause a sugar problem, maybe it won't hurt.   The family, everyone, had blue cake and a great time.

Have you figured out the answer to my question yet?  

The daughter explains to me that your "bile" is yellow.  Look up bile if you don't know.   That yellow bile mixed with blue cake coloring    =   yes green poop.

She figures we are having Green Velvet Cake for St. Patrick's Day.

That's all for now - more maybe tomorrow - I have been too long away from this missive.

mtz