Covid Shmovid (Shot)

 Remember the old song:  "Oh where, oh where has my little dog gone?"

My question:  Oh where, oh where has my covid shot gone?"  Corsicana is apparently is awash  in     "no-information available."  That may seem backwards / contradictory  - -

Being awashed in the lack of information  / awash in Nothing.  This past week, off and on, I have called phone numbers that I could find.  Nobody seems to know nuthin'.  Or if somebody does know sumpin', he is hiding it from folks, the common everyday public.

Examples:  I called the Corsicana health dept - phone number in the book - all I get is a fax machine.  You'd think, over time, somebody would notice that.  You'd think.

I called the Navarro Regional Hospital - nice lady operator - she know nuthin'.  Based upon what I think she said, people (just regular folks) are calling her and giving her information about where the covid shots are NOT available.

Our CVS does not have a phone number in the book - found it on the Net.   Their prerecorded message says that they have no shots available.

But, we see people lined up in cars on TV - all getting shots.  Every newscast, we see more images of cars lining up in some vacant lot - people getting shots. 

I called my doctor's office - his phone person transferred our call to the hospital without telling me what she was doing.  Yep, she didn't want to talk about it.

I called the Navarro County health dept.  they have a lot of numbers to press.  I finally just picked one that sounded a bit like "seniors" and got his machine.  I left a message asking them to help the public to learn what was happening.

I called the local paper.  Talked to a guy.  He passed info on to the Editor (based upon reading the paper, I didn't know anyone was editing that thing).  I suggested that a small daily column be dedicated to information on getting the shots.  He thought that seemed like a good idea.  Am I crazy here or shouldn't a journalist think about this on his own?  Just wonderin'?

I do have the county judge's personal email.  I wounder if he could stir things up.  Bothering a judge does seem like a wrong way to do this.

So, what did I learn today.  Nobody knows what is going on and if they do, they are not telling the general public -- and, I am the general public.

Now, let's see, where is the Governor's home phone number again?

mtz

Paranoia - Walmart shopping

My blog tells me I have had 57,500 + views.  Really.   Sure, they are worth it.  Just ask me; I'll tell ya.  57,500+ views.  Keep reading.  This one is okay.
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I went to town today, Tuesday.  My Timex had quit ticking.  It took some licks, and didn't keep ticking...Yuk Yuk - ticks me off.
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The Wrist Watch Stone first:   Back when I retired in 2004 we had our final spring concert in Manor.  It was an okay concert - good crowd .... regulars, you might say.  At the end of the concert the Band Boosters presented me a retirement / going away gift /  a very nice wrist watch.  It really was.   I was pleased to be remembered.

Inscribed on the back was a phrase which I often used -  my administration hated it with a fervor -  "Don't do stupid things."  I could have said "Do smart things ."  The Adm. would have liked that.   But this is not what you'd expect from me.  The students understood.  Only the M.S. administration had a problem.  Of course, that relationship was a bit strained anyway.  ( a stone for another day-or it may be inside of a previous bluggy )
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At the end of the concert, I sat on the edge of the stage greeting well-wishers, giving hugs, that sorta thing.  I took the new watch out and put it on my left wrist as I removed my old, well-used Timex.   At that exact moment, the Timex broke.  It was as if the Timex knew its days were numbered and "wham," the little arms that hold on the wrist band, they snapped off.   Prophetic.  Truly, it was the end of my era - and of that Timex.
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Over time, I bought a new Timex to use when I am mowing, painting, working, whatever.   This week my Timex quit.  It may be the battery; or, it could be the hole in the crystal and the fact that I was washing out our rain gutters.  Water can be a demon at times.
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So, I went to town for another Timex, one that was ticking.  Corsicana has Walmart.   I bought my new watch, picked up some vitamins for the wife, and bought some gas treatment for the Marauder.  It was 3:30ish when I left.   
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I have been carrying a sack of papers for 2 months.  These need to go into my safety deposit box.   I arrived at the bank at 3:34 - saw they were open till 4 - (a surprise - always thought banks closed at 2) - went in - took care of biz - returned to my car and began to set the time on the new Timex.
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Nobody was parked near me at the time.   I notice a small SUV pull in beside me as I struggled with the time piece.  Deciding to fight it later, I looked up and out my driver's window.  There was a young guy in the white SUV with his cell phone pointed straight at me.  Strange.  He was early 20s dark hair with a small Hitler style mustache.  Strange.  Why is he taking my picture?
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I quickly started the car and backed out.  I headed to the end of the block and made a right turn noticing that the white SUV backed out and followed me to the first corner.  Nobody had gone into the bank.  Apparently they pulled in beside me just to take my picture.  Strange skinny Hitler guy...
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The SUV was a block behind me and travelling parallel, going east on 3rd street as I went east on 4th.  At the next corner, I turned north  to be pointed in their direction.  They had stopped at that corner waiting, WAITING.  I pulled over to the curb and paused.  Eventually, they drove forward (east) slowly.  I moved north to 3rd street and looked to the right at the back of their car.   It was parked catty-corner at the next intersection - directly in front of the court house.  It was not moving.
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I drove slowly north looking over my shoulder.  Immediately they moved east again to the next corner.  I hurried my pace for two blocks and made a quick right turn east.  At the next stop sign, I could see them on the curb facing my direction.  Strange.  They were just standing there (car standing, not parked).  Deciding this was too strange, I made another quick block east and whipped into a parking lot, reversed my direction, and moved 2 blocks west, turning south for another 3 blocks.
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I sat and looked in the mirror.  Nothing.  No white SUV shadowing me.
Now, folks, normally, I am not a paranoid person.  People are not out to get me.  But this was strange.  When I turned, they turned.  When I stopped at the end of a block, they stopped at the end of their block.  What is going on?  What in the world had I done to get their interest peaked?  TAKE MY PICTURE OUT  YOUR WINDOW!!!
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Free; Free at Last; I drove home watching the mirrors  --- nothing.   I told my wife when I got home.  Was someone following me, or was it just a strange coincidence?   
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An hour passed at home.  I fed the dogs.   I took a bucket of aluminum cans to our can crusher in the garage, crushing.
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BOING!!!!!
BOOOIIIIINNNNNGGGGG!!!!!
It hit me like a ton of bricks.
An Epiphany!!!
A Revelation!!!
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Have you figured it out yet?
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I was NOT being followed.
NOBODY pulled in beside me and took my picture.
They WEREN'T observing me as they waited at each corner for my appearance.
Nope.
NONE of that.
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I had been Pokemoned.  ( a new term just invented for the explanation )  I have been "POKEMONED."
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The guy wasn't taking my photo; he was capturing a Pokemon.
They weren't going slow at the corners because of me, they were hunting a Pokemon.
[ The court house apparently has some nearby. ]
I was paranoid.   Frankly, I was insignificant to these people.  They didn't care about me or the Marauder or going to the bank or anything else -- No!!!
They were seeking a Pokemon.
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AS AN ASIDE HERE -- what if I were a paranoid schizophrenic?  One who thinks he is being followed by the CIA or Russian Spies?  What if?   And what if I had been carry my sub-machine gun on the front seat?  There would have been a mess on the streets of Corsicana.
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With Love, I say

go Pokemon go

m3

You have my permission to make fun of me.

Burglar in shorts

Our local newspaper, the Corsicana Daily Sun, has a great article that needs to be retold.  But first the DISCLAIMER:  { Obviously } I have no actual personal knowledge of any of this - my information comes from the local paper article and a very short conversation with a local ex-police-type-person.  I learned nothing new from the law guy, so, in reality if I had not read the paper, I would know Nothing.   Wanting to give credit toe the reporter, I reread the paper.  The article was filed by "Staff Reports." Unless they have a reporter with the last name of Reports, I can't give credit, now can I?
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Whew, that's over.
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Friday morning a guy was arrested for burglary of a house in Corsicana.  When he was arrested, he was dressed only in his underwear.  Go Figure.  Here's what we figured.  He did the job undressed so - when he ran away from the scene and was spotted - he could quickly put on his green shirt - and nobody would figure him for the guilty - because he wasn't dressed only in underwear.
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Nobody told me if it were boxers or shorts.  I didn't ask; they didn't say.  
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But instead he was apprehended without clothes on making it difficult to deny guilt.
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Follow this as it happened.
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The guy climbs into a window at 7:30 a.m. Friday.  Someone called the police.  The homeowner confronted the guy who ran out of the house.   He ran to a nearby house and entered through an unlocked door.    The burglar ran into the house and out the back door.
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The police spotted him running down the street.  He entered a 3rd house knocking down a female resident who was standing by the front door.  Once he entered, he turned and locked the door behind him.  Yes, behind him.  The policeman kicked in the the locked door and caught the "suspect".
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The paper said he was a 34 year old white male wearing only underwear.  After he was caught, he was transported (I guess that means ambulance or the back seat of a police car) to the local hospital for treatment.    He had cuts and abrasions on his bare feet.  Yes, my dear, the guy did not wear shoes either.  I suppose he was afraid someone would recognize his pink Nikes.
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Now would you  break into a house unclothed in daylight?  Then, would you not wear shoes?  Running away would you stop to see if the house next door had unlocked doors to allow you to run straight through?  Would you have been better off to be completely naked?  
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Final note - imagine this.   You buy a brand new house (new to you).  For months you are looking forward to owning and sleeping in this great house.  You move in.  The next morning, you throw open the front door to look out at your fabulous new neighborhood and smell the fresh air of your beautiful new yard.  Then some clown in his underwear runs up - knocks you down - runs into your house locking the door behind him - the front door is kicked down by a policeman who tackles the intruder inside your house.
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I figure she is thinking:  "I am so glad I moved into this beautiful, quiet neighborhood.  Tomorrow I buy a German shepherd with long teeth."  
As always we should remember that a person is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law.  If I knew his name, I wouldn't say it here.  Not me, Slick.  He might google his name, and, then coming looking for me - in his long johns.  Me betcha he spends some time in a looney bin.  Any takers?
3m

QUILT SHOW !!!

Quickie #1 -- 10/3/14

My wife is downtown today helping them set-up the Corsicana Quilt Show.   She is a member and has a quilt in the show.  It is being judged as I type.  Here is good luck to her.  I will post a photo of the quilt on another day after it is hung at the show.   It is a very good quilt show with some fine looking quilts.  Go see.
m  
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P.S. this means I have to make my own lunch today - or left overs - I get to choose.

Derrick Days

This is not meant to make fun.   It may seem that I am, but ... not.
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Most smaller type towns seem to have their special celebrations.  They all create a signature event or claim-to-fame, proclaiming it to the outside world.   My old hometown, Levelland, has their Old Settler's Day.  Buda has their wiener dog races. Ennis, just north of us 20 miles, has a Czech festival.  And, yes, of course, Lubbock has their Buddy Holly festival.
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Some festivals are just worthless --  others, not so much.
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Corsicana has Derrick Days.  For the uninformed, Corsicana had the first producing oil well west of the Mississippi.  The oil field is somewhat pumped out now, but they still are doing some drilling.   Mobil and others seem to have gotten started in this area. Magnolia was a big time company that was bought out several years ago.  Their trade mark was the big red flying horse that Mobil uses now.  Yes, Corsicana, and the surrounding area, grew up as an oil field.
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So, we have our Derrick Days.  Basically  ( a word that is often overused ), the event has booths running down the main drag,  a chili cook-off,  a classic car event,  a tour via bus of the local oil fields with history, stages with music, Gospel stage, a fancy indoor dance, rodeo on Friday night - they use to have basketball tournament 3 on 3 - made up mainly of 3 big guys trouncing 3 other big guys.  It seems like they use to have, maybe still do, free hot dogs downtown on Friday in pocket park.
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Pocket Park is a park on main street where a building use to be.  Rip out the bricks and plant some green - add a bench or two - and it is pocket park.  Good use of wasted space I suppose.  Who is going to try and build a new building in that space? Not me.
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And they have a motorcycle rally.   People come from all over to show off their bikes and be manly (except the female rides, who do it for other reasons I suppose).  The bikers gather and do games.   There is a competition - burn out?? - where they rev the engine and burn rubber for effect.  I am sure these folks have a great time and look forward to returning each year.
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Yesterday's paper - it took me a long time to get here - announced some changes in Derrick Days.  I'm sure you will be pleased that I posted them here.  First of all, Biker Bash is having a new starting point - closer to the police station I am uh thinking - new starting point, new route, and a new finish line.  So there.  The tattoo contests has been cancelled.  They have so many folks riding, new spacious digs were needed. The end will be at the O.T. Sports Bar on the golf course on north Biz 45 - at Hardy Ave.   Hardy = Harley ?? wonder if any will be confused.
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The next is my favorite part:  With the moving of Biker Bash, that area hopes to add a Hispanic music state bringing in a big name such as Jamie Richards.  There you go. Jamie Richards.   Sounds Hispanic to me.  And, they hope to host an act that involves a dancing horse - it may be a combination of the "three."  Re-read this paragraph - I only see 2 things...I am dense at times.  I love horse acts.
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Almost through.   Added Business Olympics with bed races & high heel races.  Fun. There are some negatives:  no golf carts this year with a penalty of a traffic ticket. No parking on 3rd street overnight Friday - newspaper said so - no skateboarders.  But the most important change this year:  no snakes.  Last year some folks showed up carrying boa constrictors and other pet serpents around their shoulders.  This year, the festival will be snake free.   
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Fran Townes, committee chairperson said, "Snakes scare people."
See ya,
m
p.s. I think they should invite Justin Bieber.  He seems to be having problems in Florida and may need a place to hide out.

CHURCH 6/30/13

First United Methodist Church of Corsicana is where I go and sit in the choir.  To understand part of this let's imagine the church building.  The street doors enter the main sanctuary from the back on both back sides.  That was a poor description.  Think of a box where all the people sit.   The preacher stands in front and their are doors in the back.  The choir sits behind the preacher.  Off to the side of the choir, steps down, into a small room where the preacher keeps his robe and other things like that.  There is a door leading outside from the small ready room.  That door is locked and is never opened.
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At the back of the place the outside doors - both - lead to small entry areas which go to the actual outside of the building.  A porch, there is a nice porch there to keep the rain off your noggin.   The northwest entryway, foyer, has restrooms off to the side.  This is a great old church built over a hundred years ago.  The windows are beautiful - prolly some photos online.  
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Back in the beginning days of the building the Texas  Legislature or Texas Democrats or whatever held their annual meeting in this building.  It was known as the flea meeting cause little sand fleas infested the building and were biting all the politicians.  The story must be online somewhere.  Beats me.
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That has nothing to do with today though.
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As the service was just getting rolling - I am sitting in choir loft looking out at the congregation, when a lady entered from the back (restroom foyer side).  She traveled a few rows and crossed over to speak in the ear of this gentleman.  Her entrance was not Stelth - I fault her not though. Both quickly moved into the foyer.   Hustle & Bustle.  More people came inside and spoke to others.  Different people left to the foyer - some returned.  Fast forward.
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The preacher says, "let us pray." ( I paraphrased here - he has a more elegant way of leading into the pastoral prayer than I ) .  In the course of our programmed church service, it was time for the prayer. Audience:  heads bow and silence.  A siren in the not too far distance.  Our preacher always pauses before he utters his first prayer words...I imagine it is for the effect.    The siren came closer, closer, louder, louder -- BBBBLLLLAAAAAAAHHHHH  the air horn goes off.   Suddenly right outside the front of the church, no noise, no siren, no loud horn.  The prayer began.
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An appropriate amount of time passed.  Through the glass windows in the door, I observed the EMT guys rolling somebody out the front door of the building.  The service continues; no break.
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Editorial:  Should the preacher have left his podium and visited the foyer?  Should the preacher have continued the service with no break  (as he did)?  I know that had this happened while I was conducting a concert with my bands, I would have chosen to keep the music going.   If I had paused, every little girl in my band would have become too emotional to continue - and it would not have mattered who was sick.
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My opinion:  he should keep the service going.  BUT, had he chosen to go to the back and delayed the service, that would have been okay too.  Had he known the identity of the sick person, it would have been a great time for a special prayer.   Maybe some usher should have passed him a note during the service.    I know there will be those who complain- no matter what.  If you like the preacher, he did fine.  If you are mad at the preacher, what a great opportunity to fuss again and again.   
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Here is my question:  the guy who had the heart attack in the foyer - did he care either way at the time?  Nope.   I doubt it.  Certainly not.  One of our congregation is a "real" medical doctor.  He was in the foyer.  It will be interesting to see the take others make on this.  I roll my eyes in anticipation.
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That wasn't all.   Remember the door in the little room off the choir loft?  The service was winding to a close.   All of a sudden, there was a knocking at that door.   KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK  KNOCK KNOCK - 5 loud hammerings.   The choir members all flinched -- flipping heads around to look at the door.  The choir guy nearest the door said, "I'm not opening it."  The guy next to me added, "me either."  The knock was heard all over the congregation.   Seconds passed.   No 2nd knock.  Who was there?  Was it the hand of God?  Maybe it was "Death" coming to claim his victim.   The knock was strong.
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I feel certain the preacher continued his sermon.   I don't know that.  I imagine no member of the choir heard another word from the pulpit - never mind the sound guy didn't have our speakers turned on in the loft.    A pregnant pause.    One of the ushers climbed out of his pew and exited the back of the sanctuary.  I observed his shadow on the stain glass side windows as he walked around the building to the back.  What would await his journey?  I know that I would have been quite cautious in today's climate.
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There he found a young man - standing by the door.   In his arms a pile of Pizza boxes.  The kid says, "Did you know you have a little cat living in your bushes?"   Our man, "No, I didn't.  I do think you want the entrance door over here."  The pizza was being delivered for the a Youth function to be held right after church.
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The service ended.  The choir, isolated in the loft, had no idea what had happened to the person in the foyer - who / what was he/she?  etc.  We learned later it was a man with a heart attack.  
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And the knock on the door?  The preacher was nearing the part of the service where he invites people to join the church.  Nearing.  What a perfect opportunity to save a soul, I say.  Yet, remember, we didn't open the door.  Somewhere in the Bible is a passage about someone coming to the door, and he is let in - or was he denied entry?  I don't know. One or the other - or maybe both.   We were challenged.   The choir failed to open the door.  Sorta sad if you want to think of it that way.  I have always enjoyed a good choir pizza party.
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My wife reminded me of a popular song, years gone by -- A song that has a knocking and the lyrics:  
Open the Door Richard.  
Open the Door Richard.
Richard, why don't you open the door.

We had fine music in my youth;  nothing like the trash of today.

m3

Monday and my trip to town

A day in the life - no, a Monday in the life of a retired band director with minimal deadlines.

I hope you can find the humor of this considering I use to be a man-about-town, fashion plate, and world traveler.

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Up. Wife in shower.  Breakfast of Grape Nuts and letting dogs in and out of back door.   Me follow up in the wet place.   We are trying an experiment.  Got a plastic bucket at Atwoods.  As the water begins to flow in the shower, we fill the bucket till the temperature rises.  The bucket is emptied outside on one of our moisture starved plants.  This means 2 buckets of water per day.  The plants are appreciative.   Dressed.

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Today I chose a lovely ensemble of pale blue jeans topped with a horizontally striped black and white knit shirt.  Tiny red stripes border the bolder black stripes.  Brown leather belt and green socks.  You might wonder about the green socks.  I own them, that's why.  Plus the lighting is poor in the sock drawer and I never can figure out which pair is green.  The last time this happened I was attired in a sky blue knit shirt and was embarrassed all day long.   { Aside:  if you read below where wife tied her own shoes, it was at that moment that I lifted my pants legs to discover the green socks.  I need help in this area. }

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All dressed.  Ready to go to town.  First the dogs are placed in the dog pit.  This is 15 x 20 ft. area in the backyard with a 6 ft fence:  semi-covered, water, grass -- a nice place for the dogs to visit.  

My wife is the treasurer of our Home Owners Asso.  (HOA).  As such she is sent dues and other assessments.  Since the road was fixed and money collected prior to the event, she doesn't see many checks now.  Still, a $30 check arrived.  

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Our first task, deposit the $30.  Next a quick trip by the post office to mail letters to the 12 dead beats of the HOA who have not paid their road assessment dues yet.  Clowns.   They even pretend  no previous letter has arrived.   It is one thing to be short of cash and unable to pay - you call someone and make a plan.  But, to lie about not receiving a notice.  Despicable.    Now we do have this one guy who is divorcing his wife and selling the house.   He called and explained that he was paying half and she was to pay the reminder  (that would be "half" for those of you who are mathematically challenged.   He paid.  She hasn't.  My wife doesn't need this type of torment.

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In town - drop by the HOA'S CPA to deliver a notice from the great State of Texas, or is it State of Taxes?  Down 7th Avenue to Atwoods.   Poop.    That's right,  Poop.  Let me take you back to the Dog Pit - shorten to PIT.  The PIT is for the dogs to Poop at night - away from potential animals which might linger in the backyard.  The PIT is small enough to keep track of them at night.  We have coyotes and bobcats and foxes and killer bees - you name it (snakes, don't forget).    As you well imagine, a PooPit fills up pretty fast with 5 dogs, one of which, Fritz, is able to produce more Poo than all the other dogs put together.   That boy has a talent.

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So I have one of those little rakes and scooper thingys in the pit.  Scoop up the goo, and put it in a galvanized silver bucket lined with an appropriate sized white garbage bag.  Well that doesn't solve the poop problem in the rest of the yard.  So today we bought another scoop at Atwoods.  It has a beautiful yellow handle.  Beautiful.

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On to Walmart.  What trip to town is complete without a trip to town?  Of extreme importance is that our Highway department has just installed a new traffic light at the entrance of Walmart.  Today is the first day that I have seen it work - and, today, we went through the light on  the left signal.  We are growing up.   Bought Walmart gas - 3 cents off with the card.

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Inside to look at yarn- didn't buy any - found a plastic bowl to buy - did.   Went to the register by the back - there were these two Spanish ladies - each with kids - at the register.  It is unimportant that the 2 were Spanish except they were having language problems.  They had coupons.  They had coupons from other stores.  Each item they bought had a coupon and one from another store.  The poor clerk was looking up things right and left.  And the kids were wild.

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After 5 minutes we moved to another register at the front of the store.  So did the guy in front of us.   The 2nd Spanish lady still had a buggy full of stuff and her own coupons.    We checked out.

Next was a side trip to Tractor Supply.  They have buckets with lids.  If you get a pooper scooper, you need a bucket for disposal.

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By now it was noon - we made a stopover at CiCi's pizza.  Cheap.  Breading.  salad.  It was a delight and the 2 Spanish ladies with the loud kids were not there.   The town trip ended with a short adventure at the HEB grocery store.   So the day trip ended.  

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Back home - mowed the backyard - played ball with Oscar - fed dogs - played ball with Oscar - ate left overs (good pork chops) - all exciting.

2 things before I close:

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1.   Today is my daughter-in-law Penney's birthday.  Happy Birthday to Penney.  I am not talking about age here.  They are spending her birthday at the softball field as one of their daughters is playing ball tonight.

2.   As I typed I looked for something to watch on TV.  I found a 20th century fox movie with 30 minutes left.   ROXIE HART  with Ginger Rogers, a 1942 flick.   This is the Chicago movie story with Roxie, the shooter,  and Billy Flynn, the lawyer, appealing to an all male jury.  Those last 30 minutes were a lot of fun.  I have got to see if I can find the entire movie and watch it.

and so I close.

maybe Wednesday's missive will be full of intrigue and spies and communist invaders being thwarted.   I certainly do hope so.

m 

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P.S.   Dallas hired a new Superintendent last summer.  This year he has been trying to put his personal touch on the recovery of the school system.  The newspaper says that 9 out of 10 students in the DISD live below the poverty level.  The Dallas News had a feature article today about how they are firing Principals - moving Principals - and generally shaking up the system.  Some of the townspeople are all uptight.  Friends of these Principals are up in arms.   One of the Princes told some of his people to just hang on (I paraphrase) cause the Supt might not be there very long.   Turmoil in the Dallas ISD.  Am I glad to be out of that arena?

            In one recent parent rant, the lady accused the supt. of being a white supremist.  The News then point out that the Supt. mother is Black and his father is Japanese.  When in doubt, play the race card.   I close now.

Buffet Paradise

Wed. April 3rd - 2 days after April Fools day. I feel that I was a failure as not one April Fool word came out of my mouth. Sad really. When I was teaching, opportunities soared - as well as they soared for the students. Do I miss April Fool's day in my classes. Not a wit. I also don't miss the pinching of St. Patrick's Day...or the day before Christmas or Spring Break vacations. Nope, not a bit. "Your shoes untied."

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Went to church choir tonight. Our minister Bayard Pratt made the trip to the choir rehearsal room to say nice things about the Holy Week services and the choir's contributions. That was good.

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Our director, Scott Clinton, did a good selecting music appropriate for the season and the choir's abilities. Good Job Scott.

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On TV right now is a show on the travel channel: Buffet Paradise. Now this is a show I can get into. Got late into the show so I missed the first ones. My daughter just called so I will miss the last ones = Yes, I will be looking for the rerun of this show.

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So far they have talked about Stubbs BBQ in Austin. I never realized that Stubbs had stuff besides BBQ. They do. And they have live entertainment lots of the time. It looks like a mecca for hungry Texans.

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Next was Nordic Lodge in Rhode Island. I'd imagine they have a website. This place was loaded with seafood. Eat as many whole lobsters as you want and the lobster looked scrum scrump scrumptious. I want to go there.

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The 3rd buffet was in Long Beach on the Queen Mary. That has to be fun.

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The final buffet before the phone rang: Taverna in Alexandria, VA - Greek food. A Greek Lasagna - ring ring ring -

Enough of that...

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Originally I was going to recite things that amaze me in the world today like Microwaves etc. Suppose that will wait for Friday.

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Wrote earlier about paving the road in our subdivision - Tomorrow morning at 8:30, I get to go out with my shovel and rake, They are dumping sand on top of the rock base. I get to spread a mile of sand - with the help of others in the area. It should be fun. Friday comes the asphalt. My week is complete.

enough,

see ya guys

m

minor stuff - corsicana swing orchestra

Just noticed that I have not written here for a month.  That should change.  
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An acquaintance (friend) from years past has told me that he plans to post 3 times a week.  He feels that if it is regular 3X per then it will get a following of regular people.  And we all want to be regular.  So, so, so, I am going to try that.  Today is Monday.  Logically, I should post again on Wednesday.  [ I wrote that word out to prove that I could spell Wednesday....there are those who think I abbrev. because of speling skils. ]
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So let's stay tuned and see how I do.
Right now I have come online to see if I can adjust all those words on top and side of this page.

Side note:  If you want to read a Blog with Drama and other stuff - go read the above friend's blog - it is full of emotion and drama.  By all means don't just read this week's edition - go back a full  year or more.   There is a book in this for an enterprising young writer.  Trust me you will return to his Blog and want to experience his next happening...or at least roll your eyes.
LOW    Life of Wilde.  Just don't give me any credit or notice regarding his work.  
I know nothing!  (Line loaned to me by Shultz)
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I am a member of the CORSICANA SWING ORCHESTRA - It is enjoyable.  I get to play my horn and be around people who know what horns are.  Some (most)(all) are pretty good musicians.  It is fun to hear them play.  I figured out that I had not played an ad  lib  solo with a real band since back in the 70s when I moved to Oklahoma and quit playing regularly in the Panhandle.  While my brain thinks ad lib solos all the time, my abilities have diminished, and I don't feel 100% comfy taking off on a tangent.
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Anyway, the CORSICANA SWING ORCHESTRA is technically based in Corsicana but the musicians are certainly not.  Even I live 10 miles out in the country.  Our business manager, Jerry Ballew lives over in Teague - several are from Fairfield - a couple from Robinson (that may be Robertson - never could keep it straingt) - we have a County Judge { he is an elected official - so would probably appreciate seeing his name in print --  H. M.  Davenport - good steady reliable, fun drummer }, school teachers, students, retirees, policeman (actually policewoman) - and so forth.  It is quite a mix, and we are still looking for a few more players.
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We try to play for money.  Most times we do.  Nobody gets rich doing this.  Some gigs are played for free - for instance performing for one of the local retirement places.  I have often wondered why the City of Corsicana doesn't give us a yearly bit of money to represent them at certain events.  I think it would be good for the community and the band.  On the other paw, that would make us a bit responsible to the mighty City of Corsicana.
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If you know anyone who wants a swing Big Band { y'know, sorta like Glenn Miller and those guys } give Jerry a call - he'll book us if we can all get free that day.   Try  903-390-1058.  Lemme know if that doesn't work.   We work cheap.

That is enough for today - must work on my taxes and drink my unsweet tea.
mtz

Newspaper stones

Apparently, I have written 8 blog entries that were never published.  One is just above this post.  Below was probably written last April in 2012.  Very little of it is world shaking - you will be able to read one touch of Obama distaste about halfway down.  that's it.
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Sometimes I just like to sit and read the newspaper.  Papers have so much to see.   I need to clear off the top of the desk and list some of these paper things.  That's it.
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There are so many things about computers and different programs that are foreign to me.  Once a week guy named Jim Rossman writes a Tech Adviser column.  This time it was about Gowalla.  I have not the slightest idea what Gowalla is....nor do I care.  seems it is in Facebook.  Now, I didn't know that you can hide certain things in Facebook by hitting an  X.  Not gowalla. 
     To hide Gowalla:  look for Gowalla in gray at the bottom of the post.  or go to www.facebook.com/gowalla.  Once you are there, column on the left & find link to block gowalla completely.    I wish you the best.
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Here in Corsicana I saw a church named:   Missionary Baptist Church.
Right across the street was a newer looking church:  Straightway Missionary Baptist Church.
I bet there is a story there of conflict and gnashing of teeth.
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Thurs., April 28th paper has an article that Leprosy in the south has been tied to Armadillos.  You can look this up if you need more info.   I just find it interesting.
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same page article title:  1 in 4 US kids reared by single parent.  That seems a bit sad to me
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I have seen the copy of Obama's birth certificate.   I watched the press conference where Obama tried to make fun of people who doubted.  Two points:  1.  he could have stopped the whole thing about 2 years ago.  He was a fool to let it continue    2.  at the end of the announcement, he said he had more important things to do.  Then he left town to be on Oprah's show in Chicago followed by two fund raisers in New York City on the same date.  Say what you might, the man is a jerk.
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Budapest, Hungary - have approved a plan to name a park after "Elvis Presley in commemoration of his support for Hungary's anti-soviet revolution in 1956. 
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Headline in Dallas Paper:  We Recommend  No candidate in Dallas city council District 7
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I have been known to read an Obituary at times.  Old Joke:  just checking to see if I am listed.  Some are interesting.  An obit can be quite long or just a few short lines.  Some papers charge per line - others do it for free.  Am always checking what they did in life.  One today told of Willie Benjamin Colburn Jr who was born March 12, 1030  to sharecroppers Willie Benjamin Colburn, Sr and Jewel Clemmons.  The daddy died 8 yrs later and this Willie was put in the Corsicana State Home (an orphanage at the time).   He did okay it seems.
     The one I enjoyed reading - and please don't think I am making fun - Bunnie Dean Simmons Born was born in 1934.  The part I liked was ( I quote the Corsicana paper): she taught kids to play instruments...
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This is as far as that post got before it was interrupted and forgotten.  You make up your own endings - or go look up Bunnie on your own.  I bet she was a dandy.
  
 

Somewhat eventful day vs. plumber

EVENTFUL DAY   (not worthy of becoming a sitcom though) - no births or deaths.

1.  We have lived in this house for 4 1/2 years.  It was new; we had it built.   Last week, I noticed water standing in the shower after the water was turned off.  Maybe in your house that is normal, but in my house it is not. . .big ole drain hole.   Backing up water, bad.  Backing up computer, good.

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After the problem resurfaced again yesterday, my wife got the plumber's friend  (plunger)  and started pumping away.  I joined in the festival and water was going nowhere - nowhere -  except all over the shower walls.  At that moment she discovered the sink wasn't draining either.  Instead it bubbled up black stuff about 6 inches into the sink.   Not good.   Black stuff in sink, bad.   (fill in the rest)

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I called my ex-next door neighbor (Lelanie Petty - has a local insurance company in town)...make that texted her:  "Do you know a plumber?
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Her response:   "yes."

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After prodding, she gave me cell number of a local guy - long story shorter:  He  came out with his able assistant - ran the machine through the line - pulled out gobs of gray hair and other stuff.  I made a point of pointing out the wife's grey hair.   Mine is not grey.  Mine is distinguished.   

So I took the plumber into the other bath, water closet, reading room.   The tub in there has never drained properly.  He worked on it.  No gray hair.   This time he pulled out a piece of flexible plastic pipe from the drain.  It was left by the initial tub installer.    

Now they both drain like real troopers.   $247.   Yep.  $247.   I suppose there would have been a cheaper way.   Sledge hammer and drill bits.   I liked the plumber.  He didn't even make fun of me.  Actually he was real serious the whole time.  I woulda thought plumbers would be a bit more jolly.

Local Newspaper

Sometimes I am motivated to post;  sometimes I am not motivated to post; sometimes I am just not motivated.

The Corsicana Daily Sun - a wonderful paper  (some will read as truth; others will read as sarcasm - the choice will be yours)...the paper had a photo last Friday of the Corsicana H.S. candidates for Homecoming Queen, King, Prince, Princess, Head Bubba and Bubbarina - I am sure they have a name for that.  Don't know it.  Don't care to know.  Already too much stuff in my brain to use anyway.

What I find interesting is the first names of the contestants - and they have a million.  What happened to the good ole days when there were 3 guys and 3 dolls?  They have 20 in the newspaper photo.  I am going to recite all of their first names.  That is what I enjoy.  Here we go:
Will, Trey, Breyon, Alonzo, Dean, Zack, Adrian, Holden, Pedro, Bobby, Cassidy, Bridgett, Autumn, Tabitha, Lauren, Shamyron, Isidra, Tia, Fatima, and Kelsey.   Where are the Mikes? the Toms?  the Harrys? the Jims?  the Marys?  the Joans?  and yes, the Brendas?  Times are a-changing.

While I am perusing the newspaper, the article underneath the Royalty (above) is a listing of 20 people:  Grand Jury indicts 20 Thursday.  It lists names and offenses.  We had the robberies, the hitting of a cop, the theft by check, aggravated assaults, possessions, etc.  They have different first names:  Lisa, Joel, Juan, Lindsey, Ismael, Amelio, Sean, Dena, Jacob etc.  2 Jameseseses.  My favorite is someone named  Echo Hooks.   There must be a story connected with that name.

Moving on:  Politics .... not really, but yes - in the paper.  Apparently we are having a heated election for sheriff.  A guy named John Barlow is running against Elmer Tanner.  Not that it matters, but it seems to me that anyone named Elmer will be better Sheriff than a John.... just take that anyway you want.

You really want to read that article.  John wrote a 599-word post addressed as an open letter to Elmer and "his gang of thugs."Yes, he wrote it on facebook.   599 words.  Who counted them?  Someone needs a better hobby.   John called Elmer a "DUMB-@%%"    I quoted from the paper.    He was complaining that his signs were being stolen (eventually asked by paper - seems 3 or 4 signs)  His rant must have been good.   His rant closing was  (off color warning)   all caps, of course.   "THIS IS FOR YOU, YOUR THUGS, AND THE PEOPLE WHO ARE SO STUPID THAT THEY WRITE STUPID COMMENTS ABOUT THIS ARTICLE.  (F**K YOU)"

132 Friends on facebook he has.  I'm thinkin' one of those may not be a true friend.  The local police chief G.M. Cox said "..this kind of posting is below what I would expect a a man who wants to serve as sheriff."

I have probably spent enough time with that issue of the paper.  The local paper is always good for a bit of fun.

Corsicana

Corsicana is NOT a small town - well, yes it is.  Suppose it depends upon your daffynition of a small town.  Pop.  around 30K.   That's a lot larger than  Smyer or Opydyke.  Smaller than Dallas - but a good size town on I-45 headin' south.

We take the local newspaper:  Corsicana Daily Sun.  Essentially it fills a need, a bit of local news, smattering of national, some sports, advertisements, and a calendar of coming events.  If they could find a way to consolidate those events into a smaller listing, they'd have a full extra page to focus on ME!!!

But they don't.    There were a couple of notable items in the paper yesterday.  One was the announcement of a new Baseball coach for Corsicana, some hair cut short guy named  Heath Autrey.  I am sure he is a nice guy.  sure.  What I liked were the comments he gave the paper about taking over the baseball program - which I might add is probably 4 to 6 months from now.  Their season just ended for goodness sakes. 

Tell me, does this sound like a new coach or whut?   (copied from local paper - give credit where credit due)    "We're going to get after it," Autrey said.  "I want to get to know these guys on a personal level as fast as I can.  I want to know how to push each one of their buttons.  I want them to know that I'm here for them and I want to get on the same page and try to get our system in as fast as we can.  Then go  out and  try to win Game 1."

So I ask you (2nd question)...push each button??  get after it??  same page???  All that coaches talk then  "TRY"   to win game 1.  Now I think that is a tad negative.  What happened to SHALL WIN game 1?  The local supt. like his baseball knowled & philosophy dealing with hs kids.  It quote  "He's the total package."  Man I am ready for this to happen.

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The other newspaper bit was a column by Dick Platt  titled Lady Gag!     He doesn't like her either.     If you want to read the full column, go to their website (Corsicana Daily Sun); bet it's there.
 In the column he named certain performers by their actual names.  I found that interesting so it is repeated below.  I know, I know - the info is probably on Google or wikifinks  - but who cares to look?

Lada Gaga -- is -- Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta
Cher            --  is -- Cherilyn Srkisian
Madonna    --  is -- Madonna Louise Cicone

The columnist had a couple of good lines:
1.   Did you hear about the horrific donnybrook between Cher and Madonna out in Hollywood?  It was so bad, they no longer are on a first-name basis.
2.  nope, that was it.  Just one.

but I did learn that Cher as severe dyslexic and quit school at 16.
Madonna was picked by Guinness World Records as one of the 25 most powerful women in the past century  (now that is scary)
And Time picked Gaga as one of the 100 most influential people in the world  (equally scary)

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one final thing:   Account Services is calling my house all the time to lower my interest rates.  Since I am on the Do Not Call Registry, I keep reporting them.  Only once have their people not hung up on me when I requested to be removed from their calling list.  Yep, the Do Not Call Registry is doing a fine - typical government organization - fine job getting these people off the phone air waves.  Stupid jerks.  Next time I am going to talk to them more - just to waste time.  Where is my Whistle?

y'all take care now
Mtz

Don't click on my tornado

couple things:

first of all, I just got a note from adsense-support@google.com.  If you are a religious reader of this blog, you know that I have suggested you click on the advertisements cause I make a penny when you do.  Their note says this breaks the rules; and, I won't get to have advertisements anymore.

Now, I ask....have you ever clicked on one of these advs?  do you know anyone who has?  do you know anyone who would want to?  And, to make matters worse, they are taking my profits from the past and returning to the advertisers.  

I have been doing this about a year and have never seen a penny.   Life will go on and on....
on the back porch.

Ratz, & I was going to become a millionaire.
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#2  Here in Corsicana we have had two days and nights of storms.  My backyard is a swamp.  It won't quit raining.  Tornados:   We had two skirt our house to the north yesterday.  Tonight, there have been several, several.  According the TV radar, two of them passed right over our house or close  without touching down.  Another was seen near the airport about 2 miles south of here.   I spent some moments with the wife and dogs in a closet.  

Even in that small space,  Oscar and I played ball.    I tossed in the air and he'd jump to grab it.  Good dog.  Helped to lighten the mood.

and as I close, don't click on any advertisements - cause there shouldn't be any.  Sigh.
m

Corsicana stuff

America wants to know.  I think I've whupped my virus - unless it was an alergy, in which case, it shall return just as McArthur did.  I did get an hour and a half restless nap this afternoon.  It was restless for the first couple of minutes, then, I knew nothing until nature called and work me up ruthlessley.  I had an aunt named Ruth.  That is another blog.

Corsicana is a nice place.  It has lots of interesting things but is still laid back.  If it had a Best Buy, might be a perfect place.  One of the features is a small little theater type  place  called the Warehouse Living Arts Center  (Theatre).  Tonight we watched their latest production:  Grandest Canyon.  

These folks do a good job.  Sure, some actors (tresses) are less than Hollywood, but some do a pretty terrific  job.    I enjoy making the trip up there.

One of their bits is playing music through the house speaker system as scenes are changed.  The songs seem to always echo the subject of the play.  Me thinks they think about this a long time.  The audience sits quietly watching through the blackness as the stage hand move stuff around - listening a toe tapping depending upon the selection. 

Tonight I giggled inwardly once.  The guy on stage was approaching a divorce with his New Jersey wife.  He was in Texas on the phone to his soon-to-be ex-wife, when the scene ended and the music began.  The audience started humming along with the song:   "All my exes live in Texas."

I giggled.

looking forward to the next session.
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Before I close - a little Methodist bit.  I have never seen this before.   It should catch on.  The Corsicana FUMC is having a real Last Supper.  13 costumed actors are recreating the Last Supper from Divinci's painting.  What a novel idea.    I am anxious to see how it plays out.  Of course, I'll be there warbling in the choir.

One of the stars in the little theater production is organizing this event.   Understand there will be free bread and grape juice for all.

O'er & out
mtz