FNBO BABBLE

With an apology -  I have just reread what I wrote below.  It is nonsense to read.  How often have I been stuck beside some old person who just rants and raves about some meaningless subject.  They don't know when to stop.

Here is my  meaningless rant.  Try to enjoy.  You won't.

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 Here is the deal.  A while back I had dealing with the First National Bank of Omaha.  I owed them some money.   I'm gonna make up some dates and $$ amounts here.  I don't remember the facts.

Anyway, lets say that I owed them $100 and it is the end of April, 2019 or so.   I received their statement; and, I mailed them a check for $100.  Well it seems that in between the dates that I don't really remember, I had used their card and charged something else - let''s say it was a purchase for $50.  

Fine.   According to their printed paper, if I paid off my debt, I would not be charged interest.  These clowns charged interest on the $50 when it was still in "it's" first month.   I called to explain.  The girl on the phone recited some garbage - I asked to speak to someone higher up.  If I am going to call and sit through the phone nonsense, I want good results.  Higher up person listens.  He recites some garbage.  I questioned.  He gave me the name of someone else to call - tomorrow.  I did.  Got another young girl on the phone and we repeated yesterdays adventure.  

After 3 calls and same garbage response, I gave up.  The interest was only a couple of dollars.   At that time I sent them a message to forget that I existed, and I cut up my card.  Done.  Over.  Complete.

Now that was when I lived in North Texas.  I moved to Central Texas in my motorhome and used the mailing address of my daughter for business.  That was about 2 years ago - the moving that is.

My daughter moved.  I moved up here.  The now resident of her old place gave her a letter addressed to me from this company. . They were sending their yearly credit rules.   

GADZ.   I have not done business with them for over 2 years.  How did they get my new/old address?  Mind boggling.

I am mailing them the following letter ( which I modify here because some folks like to do bad things when they get certain info).

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

TO:  First Natl Bank of Omaha 

Sir:

I have a problem. 

You recently sent me a letter regarding my account.  It went to the {new/old} address listed below. As an FYI, I have not lived at that address for about 2 years.  The above address is my current address. {address listed on letterhead by me}  

Frankly, I cannot find this card.  I do not have the slightest idea where it has gone.  Digging in my stuff, I found an old letter that I had written to you; otherwise, I would not have known how to contact you.  Apparently, I have not used the card for well over 2 years.

I had one account with  you that had made me angry.  I didn’t like the way you charged interest on certain items.  On the phone, I just got a run-a-round story.  This may be the card that I vowed never to use again.  Beats me.  I’m old.  Who can remember being mad over 2 years and 2 house changes ago?

Do what you want.  Send me a replacement card or cancel the account.  But, most importantly, if you are going to keep me on the books, change my address – please.

{signature}

Credit Card

0123 4567 8910 etc. 

Former addresses:

{old address}                                               {new/old address}

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SOOOOOOO,

This brings my questions.  Why would anyone do business with a company that has lost you for over 2 years?   Obviously, I am not a good source of income for over 2 years. Why do they mess with me?  I am willing to bet they will send me a new card.  I have another account with them - different company on letterhead - but still FNBO.  

I close.

tomorrow, I will try to write much better babble.

Urine or Ur-out

URINE OR UR-OUT  (of what?)   😀

WARNING:  THIS WILL BE A RATHER LONG POST TAKING SEVERAL DAYS TO COMPOSE.  It will not be humorous - funny - gagging - or even perhaps eye rolling. Instead it will be a running description of what has happened since the end of last year.  I am NOT looking for sympathy or hugs.  At age 81, hugs are rather an advanced stage of groping and propping up.  I have already heard all of the "doctors can do great things" comments.  I don't need those either.  Just need to move on..

As of this writing - May 5th, 10:45 a.m. - the weatherman on TV is showing a storm heading this way.  He is talking strong winds - potential for a tornado - HAIL - rain - we got it all.   There was a time in my life when I wouldn't say:  "Hail."  I thought it was too close to Hell -   I always said that we had "Heck."  When you get older, your mind seems to wander (or wonder) at times.  HAIL comes up later in this edition.  The worse thing about  a storm approaching at this earlier hour is:  you have to watch morning TV to see the weathermen.  They break in and out of the morning shows.  Meanwhile you must endure the morning personalities:  smiling faces, jabbering females, uninspired topics, asparagus recipes, 

So my introduction is complete.  I shall now go to our spacious kitchen and begin preparing a delightful lunch.  What will it be?  Certainly won't be asparagus and tofu fondue.

Let me add that I have been a quiet person all of my life when it pertains to my personal self.  There are just some subjects I never attack.  With this entry, all of that changes.  You will see.

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Last December, I was starting to have problems going to the bathroom.  There are 2 types of bathroom:  as in my childhood, we have #1  and #2.   My problem was #1.  I had always heard that old guys have this type of problem.   Since I had a GP doctor appt after the first of the year, I figured I could hang on till then and start the new year with the new insurance deductible getting paid.    Financial reasons.

In January, I was scheduled for a doc visit (we diabetics tend to see doctors on a regular basis.).  By the time the appt. arrived I was having more problems and my lower abdomen was hurting some.   I talked about this problem with the doctor.  It didn't seem to be an emergency to me.  The doctor arranged an appt with a urologist in Temple - Baylor Scott & White Hospital area.  Fine with me - but about 2 months away.

That was on a Tuesday.  On the following Monday, I went back to the doctor.  My stomach was really starting to hurt, and I was visiting the bathroom on the average of once an hour - day and night.  I discussed that I thought I might be constipated.   He suggested a certain laxative.   We eventually went on our merry ways.

My daughter Christine was working at her hospital Fri-Sat-Sun.  When she came in from work late Sunday, I knew that I was in trouble.  We loaded me up with the spouse and headed for BSW  (Baylor S&W) emergency room.  I was hustled into a room -  discussions were had - a CT scan was done of my lower abdomen.  Now, comes my favorite part of the story.

The emergency room doc came in and introduced me to a "catheter."  If you are as dumb as I was, you should look that up...C-a-t-h-e-t-e-r.  It is a fact that I did not understand catheters - their use - or the overall process.  I got a quick education.  They took a tube and inserted it inside of me - and water began to flow.  They measured the water.  My bladder held 2 full liters plus about 15 more ounces.  Think about the two liter coke bottles at the store.  I could have the extra ounces number wrong by a bit.  When I was emptied, my stomach quit hurting.  It was a miracle; except now, I had a tube running out of me.

I was transferred to a hospital bed after some lengthy time. My family came and sat by my side.  The doctors felt like it was a good idea for me to stay a while.  The tube extended to a bag.  The nurses dutifully emptied my bag constantly.  I discussed with the staff if perhaps my 2+ liters was some type of a world record.  They thought, "maybe."  For a person who is very self-conscious about anything to do with that area of the anatomy, this was traumatic.  Little did I know it could get worse.

Just for the record:  by the time I was placed in the hospital bed, it was Valentine's Day.  Aside stone:  food in the hospital.  I saved all of my menus from the hospital.  It was my aim to reprint them here.  Now, that time has flown and this recitative has become lengthy, I will save them for later. Surprisingly, the food wasn't bad.  There never was enough to equal a trip to Rosa's Mexican Restaurant or the Golden Corral buffet - but it was adequate.

On the 17th, I went home - urine bag in hand - tube sticking out.  An appt. was made with urology for the future.  After a couple or more weeks at home carrying the bag, the urology appt approached.  Meanwhile, I had learned how to disconnect the tube from the big bag and attach to a smaller one which I strapped to my thigh.  Later, I learned these were to be attached to the calf of the leg.  I didn't know.  The leg bag was better than the big bag carried in hand.

Another CT scan was taken.   When I arrived for my urology appt, I was ushered into a room where a short discussion was had with staff.   Then on a table, I had the tube removed.  A female nurse had me stand & I was told to fill the jug.   Big Jug.  I tried.   I failed.  I could not make anything work.  

I paraphrase here:  She said something like FINE...or  OKAY .... or ALRIGHT THEN - You get the picture.  She waltzed out and back in carrying 2 large sacks.  The nurse handed me a catheter about 18 inches long.  I am standing there with my pants down and a catheter in my hand.  She told me to insert it.  Yes, my education continued.  I was able to insert the tube - it doesn't really hurt like a hammer hitting you in the head - but it is a quite uncomfortable experience.  Tube inserted, water started to flow.  She handed me a sack of new catheters.   I was told to insert a catheter 4 times a day to empty my self - then, pull it out and discard.  I went home with 2 large sacks of catheters.

I learned that Medicare pays for catheters.  The staff put in an order with an Oklahoma company for more catheters and sent me home.  I had no large bag - no leg bag - but a sack of catheters.   

When I got down to 2 days of catheters, I called the staff and asked about the replacement ones.   It seems that an error had been made and the order never placed.   There was all kinds of scurrying about.  A new order was placed and my order was "overnighted" to me.  They did arrive the next day.  I have learned much about this process.

I did figure out that 4 times a day was not good.  On many days, I needed 5 times a day because of  the long over-night hours. I called Staff - new RX was made and more catheters overnight arrived in order for me to do 5 times daily.   Me thinks I may drink too much tea and diet coke.

Life went on.  I was still waiting for my urology doctor appointment to arrive. One morning, I was unable to insert the tube.  No matter how I tried.  It would not work.  I tried another tube with extra lubrication (yes, they are pre-lubricated).  I tried and I tried.  My bladder began to fill.  I made a quick phone call to urology -  loaded the wife into the car - and headed for Temple.   Once there I laid on another table.  A nurse tried to insert the tube.  She couldn't.  A doctor was called in.  Nothing.   Finally a team of 5 or 6 doctors and nurse worked on me.  Imagine me on the table with my pants down during all of this.  On 2nd thought, don't try to imagine that.

One doctor inserted a camera inside me - they DO have a camera that small.  Diagnosis:  When I had inserted the tube, it had taken the route of least resistance, right into the Prostate.  The doctors tried to insert another tube.  A smaller tube was tried.  The eventual answer was a wire which was able to make the trip - then a tube was inserted over the wire -guiding its path.  Tube in - the water began to flush.  I filled another couple of liters.

The new catheter was attached to a leg bag - I was given extra bags - and I went home.  No more self-insertion ----- self mutilation if you will.  Meanwhile, my phone message to daughter C brought her flying from work up to rescue the both of us.  I am going to point out here that the date was March 17th ... St Patrick's Day.   First hospital on St. Valentine's - 2nd emergency problem on St. Patrick's.  This does not bode well for Halloween - All Saint's day???

Just in case any of you are as dumb about this as I was.  The prostate sometimes increases in size as a feller ages.  This presses against the tube coming out of the bladder.  Eventually, it increases enough to completely close off the tube.  That was my joy.

About a couple weeks or so later, I finally had my first visit with my urologist.  We sat and talked for a while.  He said that he needed to feel my prostate.  I dropped my pants.  When he was done with his 5 second feel, he returned to his chair and said: "You have prostate cancer."  5 seconds.  None of my other doctors since January had noticed that.  This doctor decided in 5 seconds.  We talked.  He explained things fairly well.   I am going to jump ahead here.

He has given me a hormone shot - actually an anti hormone shot.  Later, he performed a prostate biopsy.  This exam uses a device to remove 12 different small pieces of my prostate. I felt nothing. The 12 samples are examined and a determination is made.  It verified cancer.  Mine is called level (4+5) 9 - which means aggressive.  This is not the same as stage I or IV or V cancer.  It is different and can be found on line.  Once the cancer was verified, we moved on.  

I went in for a day surgery.  They performed what is called HoLEP.  You can look that up online.  He explained that I had two problems.  One was the cancer and the other was the catheter.  The HoLEP made it possible for the catheter to be removed.  I am going to simplify here.  A device is inserted.  It goes into the prostate gland and removes the inside leaving only the shell.  I don't know if everything is removed or just most of it.  At any rate, I slept through the procedure - happily.  I spent one night in the hospital.  I had to urinate 2 times on my own before being released.  I won't go into this gory detail or the description of my roommate, but I did my 2 jobs and went home - no bag - no catheter.

Meanwhile, being concerned about the spread of the cancer, the doctor had me go for a Nuclear Bone Scan.   This was on Tuesday of this week.   Arriving at 9:45, a tiny bit of radioactive material is put inside my veins.   Then, at 1 p.m. I laid down on a table while the big ole machine passed over me taking pictures.   I asked if I could get an 8 by 10.  Apparently not.  It looked at whether cancer had spread to the bones.

Three days later, I received the call that my bone scan was negative.  There is no cancer in the bones at this time.  Now we are in the process of heading towards radiation.   That's it. I don't believe they ever cure prostate cancer...prolong,  but not cure.  We'll see.

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Now in an effort to make you feel sorry for me.  Other things have happened during all of this.

#1  My little dachshund Sadie suddenly had back problems.  The day after I arrived home from the hospital.  I had problems moving.  Luckily daughter Laura was here - She and my wife rushed Sadie to a vet.  Pills and drugs were given.   The next day, I changed vets to go to one who offered Laser treatments.  About 3 weeks later, Sadie was moving again.  I'm not sure she is perfect, but we hope so.

#2  Our dryer quit.  Bang.  It was older.  I decided to buy new instead of  fixing.  It took a week to get a new washer/dryer ordered.  Now get this:  it will be delivered on May 31st.   It is taking over a month for the items to arrive and be delivered.  My wife is going crazy waiting.

#3  We had the Salado tornado and hail storm.  The tornado missed us.  We had 3 inch balls of ice pound the house.  The back window of the Marauder was broken out, and the car took damage.  When the adjuster arrived, he calculated that all was fixable but the car would be totaled.  It is a 2003 Mercury Marauder.   However, the next day he called.  It seems that the Marauder has an $11,000 value while a normal 2003 Mercury is only about $5000.  The car is covered and not totaled.   It has been to a shop and is home in the shed.   Aside:  when it arrived, the left back window had fallen out of its track.  That window is halfway down and won't move.  Next thing is another trip to a mechanic.

#4  Roof damage.  Adjuster said only the north and east side of room had any damage.  Insurance would pay for half a roof.  He assured me that roof was plenty stable without new shingles.  I would have no problems with roof.    There is more.  That will come later.  Mtz

I Ear You

 Just in case you have not read this blog from the first entry years back  (AND WHY  NOT?)  a couple of explanations.

First of all, I will be 81 in about a week.   My wife is 6 weeks older than I.  When you get to this age, people start watching you more closely.  A year ago in the great freeze, the defrost had started.  I felt like most of the ice was gone.  The ice was not easy to see - it wasn't.    As I was inspecting the driveway (slopes quite a bit), before I could think or respond, I was down on the ground by the car.  I landed hard on my left elbow pinned under my side.   

If you have never had a fall, they happen fast.  One moment you are up; the next moment you are down.  Gravity is in command.

At the moment of the fall / slip, I thought I was fine.   The pain grew.  It was obvious that I had a problem.  The next day, I went to the emergency room - of course it was a weekend.  The emergency people put in my record that I was prone to falling.  It was a broken rib - they had a fancy, different word for it - not cracked - one of my previous entries below will give the correct term.  Broken ribs are not to be sneezed at (so to speak).

I could not lay down in a bed and get back up - with or without help - too much pain - helpless in Bed they say.   Hmmmmm.  After several days of sleeping in my big chair at night under a blanket of blue, I finally healed enough to be human.  Never had I broken anything in my entire lifetime - and it hit during my 80th year.  Growing old is not easy- as they say.

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Jump ahead to last night.  I don't suppose this has happened since my earliest, early years.    I cannot remember ever frankly.  This is somewhat embarrassing, so roll with me here.

We have a sleep number bed - air it up to your preference and snore away.  Ours is about 25 plus years old and has been losing air.   I have learned to pump it up to a 60.  In about 36 hours it leaks down to a 45.  At 45, the edge of the bed is pretty sloped...not firm.

There I was asleep.  Dreaming.  It seems that the dream had me in Colorado (why?) and there was a boiled egg rolling across the floor which I reached for.  Never caught the egg.  The next thing I knew, I was on the floor in a pile.  It took me a second or two to realize what was happening.   My wife asked if I was okay.  I told her to give me a moment.

I felt moisture on my arm.  It really took a moment to orientate myself, up versus down - left versus right - north versus south.  As fast as I could find the floor with my feet, I told my wife that I thought I was bleeding.  I moved as quickly as I could to the bathroom.   Yes, I was bleeding.  My right ear hurt. By the time my wife followed me to the sink, blood was running down the side of my face off my chin.  We grabbed Kleenex and began to blot.  It didn't take too long. I don't think I lost over 20 gallons of blood.  Not sure of course.

We have this small spray container band-aid thingy which I bought a couple years back: a spray band-aid.  Sure came in handy.  We sprayed the ear liberally - it was cold and shocking to the ear.  The blood clotted.  

In addition to a lumpy dog bed beside the bed  (a nice cushion as discovered), I have a small bedside table-cabinet like thingy beside the bed.  It holds phones and chargers and flashlights and whatever.   It sets about 6 to 8 inches from the bed.   As I see it now, I rolled over, and my head started down between the bed and the table.  The corner of the table ripped the inside of my ear. 

Have I mentioned that I was blessed with quality ears - prolly a dab larger than most folks.   My pictures as a child show that I might have been able to flap and fly.   Never tried.

So there is this inch long cut on my ear.   It didn't go all the way through -or  tear anything.   Just a cut one inch long - tender - easily reopened if hit.  This happened about 5:45 a.m.  My daughter was up eating breakfast and taking dogs out - So, with her help, clean up was attempted.  

I retired to my big chair (see rib injury above) and slept hard for the next 3 hours.   A Kleenex was stuffed carelessly down my ear canal in case the cut reopened.  I didn't want my ear drum to drown.  Think how hard that would be to clean out.

The drama is not over.  I chose to visit no doctor.  The gash looks terrible to me.  It will heal, or it will become infected followed by an ear transplant.  My wife says it doesn't  look so bad and nobody will notice.  She Lies.   If I added an eye patch and a parrot, a pirate I could become.  

Because of my hearing aids and my hearing loss, I wear headsets at night watching TV.  My family hears so much better than I.  But now, with the ear gash - headsets can be uncomfy.  My drama never ends.  I did have one dog that volunteered to clean my ear for me.  They are so helpful in times of need.  NO!  Quit licking me!

I have a photo of the ear.  You may say "Thank You" for not posting.  I am so considerate.

mtz3   

Lots of junk here

 SIGH!   Sometimes I marvel at my incompetents at being a marketing genius.  Here I am - 8 plus months into the "hide-from-your-neighbors" period of my life - sitting and watching on my back porch as the world squeaks by.  Nothing of wonder or true excitement has been created within my habitat.  I write.  I read.  I eat.  I sleep.  I play ball with Oscar.  I ... well, you should get the idea by now.  The Corsicana Swing Orchestra doesn't rehearse, so I don't have that little game of fun.  You'd think I could use my brain and find a way to make some more bread.

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ASIDE:  I did make some bread a few months ago.  I like making bread.  I have a couple of recipes which produce fine tasting bread with minimum amount of effort.  Maybe, more bread should be made soon.  I love home made bread.  But, the bread I am speaking about in the previous paragraph has nothing to do with eating.  MONEY!!

2ND ASIDE:   Above I said I was "sitting and watching."  This IS the correct word to use.  You set something down - like a vase.  (I set the vase down. )  You people sit down.  Well, I am just-a- wonderin' in this singular case, since the world has forced me to remain on my back porch, have they not "set" me down?  Thus, wouldn't I be "setting and watching"  rather than "sitting and watching?"  It's amazing what crosses the mind when  you are slowly retreating into madness.

************************************************

I have railed about our local paper in the past, The Corsicana Daily Sun.  It is a dying newspaper which the locals can't figure out.  Instead of planning for a future and growth, they do the opposite.  Our paper cuts back its print editions.  Some fool has told them that the internet news is the wave of the future.  Nonsense.   How many people go to the internet to read the news.  I'm sure they have a statistic.  They are wrong.  The paper is about to wither up and die.  You should always plan for growth and make moves that way.  On the plus side:  Less grammatical errors, less improper use of our English language,  less common mistakes that would make an real editor shiver with discontent, and less intellectual commentaries to plow through.  

We had a Methodist preacher here a few years back that tried to plan for growth and the future:  Bayard was his name.  Our church could only look backwards, and in the tradition of Methodist churches, he was transferred.  Our present Preacher is doing an excellent job.  He was the right person for this job when he came.  One of Bayard's saying was to govern for growth and (in my words) execute.

But, once again, I have veered off my desired path into a different subject.  Money.  Why have I not been able to create anything from this Covid-Stupid to make my life richer and better?  I am embarrassed.  I am dumbfounded.

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VEERING OFF AGAIN:  In the Saturday edition of our worthless newspaper are the Sunday comics and the Parade Magazine plus numerous coupons to be discarded.  This week's edition of the Parade features an interview with Sienfeld.  He has a book coming out - publicity is good.  One of the questions is, "Dog or Cat?"  His response is point on.  "Dog.  I have two dogs, but they're not real dogs.  They're dachshunds...."

Right he is.  I have an improved vision of Sienfeld now.  We never - and I mean never - watched his TV show.  It didn't make sense to me.  Well, I had to have watched it some to have formed that opinion.  It was so much fun for so many; but not for me.     "But Not For Me"  great song.  I love to hear Ella sing it.   "They're writing songs of love; but not for me..."  I can hear her now.

*******************************

Moving on.

On Page 2 of the Parade Magazine is an advertisement for: TheraBreath.   I quote from the adv.   

"Bad breath can get REALLY BAD when wearing a mask.   STOP MASK BREATH.   Dentist formulated oral rinse.  Use twice a day to keep your breath, and your mask, smelling great.  Stay safe, America."     

Yes, keep America safe.  Isn't that wonderful?  Let's think about this.  Stop mask breath!  Here we are being forced to wear a mask daily, and we must smell our own breath.  What a concept.  Save the public from your breath.  Save America!   Stay safe!   Wear a mask!!  Refresh your mask breath.   This company has a marketing genius on staff.  Use TheraBreath, when you want to NOT offend the person you love the very most - yourself.  Wear the mask - save the street from your breath - Keep Safe America  - and breathe only your own fresh smelling breath.  Hang the onions and chili beans.  TheraBreath!!!  TheraBreath for you!!  TheraBreath for America!!  Stop Mask Breath!!  Stay Safe America!!

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Before I leave, let's deal with something less important.  Shall it be:  World Peace?  Starving children in Africa?  Socialism vs. democracy?  Our failing educational system?  Electric vs. gasoline cars?  Whitey-Tighties?

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

I have decided to bless you with a photo of my boy dogs Bruno (left) and Oscar (the Ball Boy)  They were sitting on the kitchen floor in hopes of a morsel of accidentally discarded food.  {I love spell check - it keeps me from looking unschooled - "Accidently" is a fine example.}  Here are the boys & his green ball.

That's it.  Take care America.

TheraBreath!!        Just breathe.

Mtz

 

misc of the day

Whar's the Beef?  no,  No,  NO !!! Not whar's the beef.   WHAR'S THE SUNSHINE !!!
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I awoke this morning expecting to see sunshine.  Wrong!  Maybe if I had listened to the nightly weather report, my expectations might have been lowered.  I am not a total believer in weathermen (and/or women if you must have that included).  They get it purdy near right usually maybe...if...  What did they study?  I betcha Beethoven never almost got it right.  Tomorrow?
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Big news story yesterday.  Okla U.  SAE fraternity in a bus on the way to somewhere to frolic sang a song stating no Negro will be in SAE (I paraphrase) and hang him from a tree. Jerks.  They are just overgrown kids in a Fraternity Suit.  They have no brains. I'd bet if you'd pull any one of them out of that bus, he'd treat all Blacks with respect and not have a racist bone in his body.  Now?  The Univ. Prez threw em out of school.
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2 things:  (at least 2 for now)  #1  I bet they have been singing that same song on the bus since the 50s. . . pre-integration.  Back then, there were no Blacks in the University but it was coming.  It was their way of letting off steam at that time.  And, nobody, because they are stupid kids, never thought to quit singing that song on trips.  They probably have other wild and crazy songs they sing too.
    #2  What stupid kid took out his camera and made a video?   Sure, they others are as wrong as can be, sure.  But the clown who took out his cell phone was so very stupid.  Who did he send it to?  Did he make the video maliciously?  Was he just innocent and stupid.  Maybe he thought he was bringing down the Government.  If I were the other bus riders, I would find him and ask.  If nothing else, let him know he is a traitor to his own Fraternity.
     #3  Does this excuse the other clowns?  Not at all.  They have all learned to watch their backs.  I assume none are enrolled in O.U. anymore.  Will they be allowed to return and finish their degrees?  If yes, will they list  S.A.E. on their resumes.  None of these will ever get to run for President, not even Governor unless they are affiliated  with the democrat party and move to New York.
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Lighter Stuff:  Went down the "As Seen On TV"  aisle at Walmart yesterday and bought a can of Flex Seal.  $12.99.  Our gutters leak on every corner.  Let us see if the stuff really works.  On TV last night, I saw the advertisement.  One can for $19.99.  I felt good about the purchase.  Wait!  Act now and you get 2 cans for $19.99  plus this other can of sealant.  Sigh.  Not a good buy @ Wally's store.
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When I was in high school  (had driver's license at 14), I decided I need some more money.  I could pick up a buck or two when mom sent me to the store - keep the change.  And Bro Jim and I had a business.  We both owned a roto-tiller and worked for $3.50 an hour (each).  Our father lined up the jobs for us.  That was $7 an hour to the home owner.  It was a good biz and lawns need that in Levelland.  Back then, $7 an hour for anything was good pay.
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I had a girl friend in high school  We needed to have some dates.  Why have a girl friend if you never see each other - well other than in the hallways of L.H.S.  I carried her books to class at times.  Not that she'd care if we went out on weekends - guess that is one reason I married her - certainly not a gold digger, which is good since I went into public school teaching.  
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Extra cash.  I saw an advertisement for a paper route.  I called the guy.  He was interested in hiring me.  I got up early one morning and rode with him on his route.  
He showed me the route and his method for remember where the houses were.  His method involved the number 3.   On this block, skip a house throw 3 in a row.  This block, throw a paper after the 3 bushes.  Now on this block, throw the 1st house, skip one, and throw the next 2  (1+2=3).  The man was a mathematical wizard with the number 3.  3 birds sitting on a telephone wire - throw a paper.
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He proudly showed me his skill for tossing the paper.  I cannot remember there being any cute plastic bags - rubber bands.  He had a skill.  Bubba threw out his own window to the left.  For the houses on the right, he threw out his window over the top of his car....and it was a ratty car.  We chugged up and down the streets as he distributed the news.
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One day.  One day riding with him.  One day riding with him really really early in the morning - I resigned.  There must be an easier way to make money, or we could stay in and watch TV.  Thanks to my mom for sending me to the grocery store often. I wonder if she purposely forgot to get stuff at the store.  It does make you wonder.  Maybe it doesn't make you wonder, but it makes me wonder.
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later -  send in the Sunshine, I'm ready.
m3

   

another sad stone

Yesterday, I posted about a mom and her daughter and grandson.  Today....
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Yesterday's was a sad stone.  This is sad too but in a different way.
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The First Methodist Church let out on Sunday about 12:05.  The service was longer than usual due to recognizing deceased members,  and  it was the 1st Sunday of the month, communion Sunday.  
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As the congregation filed out, standing on the street below the steps was a young man - I'd guess late 20s to early 30s.  His wife was standing next to him pushing a baby carriage, a stroller if you will.   They were dressed nicely, not shorts or jeans.  He held a sign asking for help - a job - he wanted a job.  I couldn't say how many people acknowledge his plight.  I was across the street before I looked over my shoulder and saw them standing there.
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I  have never seen someone stand outside a church with a sign...ever.  We drove off.
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Wednesday night in choir practice, towards the end of our time, one of the sopranos  (a singer, not the TV character) asked if anyone had seen the couple standing out there.  I don't know why she brought it up.  She did though.  Several chimed in about the sign stating he wanted a job.
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Our interim preacher - a good tenor - has been singing along with the choir in rehearsals and performances since his arrival here.  I just think he likes to sing.  He spoke up and said he had bought them some gas and fed them lunch.  That was nice.  Anyway he helped them that Sunday.
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George, a bass singer next to me, chimes in, "I saw them that afternoon at Walmart doing the same thing."  Many comments were delivered by choir members.  It does make me wonder.  The new preacher (I'm starting to like his attitude)  broke in and said, "Well, at least they didn't run out of gas."  Then "I'll feed almost anyone if they will sit down and eat (paraphrased)"
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We sang our next selection.
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I just betcha this young couple will be at a different church this coming Sunday.
Betcha.  What is that child in the stroller learning?  Nothing.  He was just a prop for getting more money.  Eventually he will age enough to learn this skill set.  Maybe they will teach him to sit in the stroller with his eyes crossed and his tongue hanging out.
over and out.
m3

Fritz update and Marauder update

Update on our boy Fritz.  (see previous post in yellow)  He had been throwing up for over 24 hours.  Listless.  Showed absolutely no desire to look at food.   This is our boy who eats dog poop as a special treat if he can find it in the yard before I do.   ( WAIT!!!  I just reread this part.  He finds the scat to snack - I look for it with my little shovel and pail to throw away before he gets it or the flies plant their little eggs in it - yes, more poop = more flies.   We have been fortunate around here to have minimal flies - I think it is because of my efforts with my deluxe model pooper scooper.  So is that clear now?  I don't eat poop.  I think I had to a few times while I was teaching - when I had the typical poor administrator.)    He does not just eat eat poop, he has certain types that are favored - I'd guess flavored - but that is neither here nor there in the update discussion.  I put one of those bacon treats under his nose and nothing.   Think Shultz  and say  "NOTHING"
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Called our vet and got a machine telling us to call their nighttime emergency line.  I did this same thing over 3 hours, never getting through.  Went to the emergency number and learned our Vet was gone till next week.  This was on Monday, all day Monday.
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On Tuesday morning my wife called again and got an actual person - his 12 yr old phone answering person who said all were gone till next week.  Didja ever notice these people who answer phones sound like they are 12, maybe 13 - nothing against 12 and 13 year olds.  Without them, where would we get 14 yr olds?  And that is a debate left for another time.
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My wife asked the young lady if they rreeccommeennddeedd another Vet while ours was gone. Well, yes they did - the 24 hour emergency pet clinic in Arlington off I - 20.   Look on  your map. That would be a drive well over an hour plus the pain of finding their store.  The suggestion was not met with glee.
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The wife called another local vetty with whom we have had a minor dealing -- they were the vet for the dog next door who swallowed one of our fish hooks out on the dock  and  for when their dog was dying of heart worms.  Both of those stones can wait.  Spouse called and got another 12 year old who stated their vet was gone till next week.  They had no suggestions for us.  You'd think the local vets would get off their snooty high horses (so to speak) and help each other out when they go out of town - a servie, you might say, that would benefit their own clients.  I'd think that. Maybe you would too.  But keep in mind - most of these Vets came out of A&M.
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Called a 3rd vet - this one has inexpensive boarding fees.  We have been there before.  A father and his daughter and son - all 3 are vets - walk in care, no appointments.  We went as fast as our Marauder tires would allow.  The young man (vet) gave Fritz the once over - quite professional I'd say - and decided that Fritz needed to stay for tests.  Talk about service, about 2 hours later, he personally called us back and gave a decision.  I like that.
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His preliminary test indicated that Fritz might have pancreatitis.  can't spell that one.  Pancreatic with the i-tis attached to the end.   pancreitis.  nope that looks wrong too.  Who cares; I don't need to know how to spell the word.  I am retired.   They are keeping Fritz in their hospital over the weekend.  They hope to re-introduce him to food on Friday, tomorrow.  If he is still as sick as he was, tomorrow will be fine.  
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Daughter Christine thinks we will have to start feeding him boiled chicken and rice when he gets home.  If that is the case, we will have to ween him off of dog cookies and chew sticks.  That concept is a difficult one for me to fathom.   Poor Fritz.  Y'all think about my boy for me.  Hopefully Monday will bring a revised and fixed boy for us.   I am too young to lose another dog right now.
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Marauder stone:  
Took the car into get a window fixed that wouldn't move up and down.
When I pulled up to his shop, I noticed wire sticking out of the front left tire.
Rusty suggested alignment.
I said sure.
In process he pointed out back shocks (with 152,000 miles on them) were very weak.
He pointed out that in the alignment process he had reached his limits with the front tires because        of the condition of the front struts  (with 152,000 miles on them)
I thanked him and went home.  
The following Sunday (this past one to be exact) the left rear window fell down and wouldn't move.
-------some of this is explained in detail below -------
 I bit the bullet - had him fix window plus the back shocks and front struts.
Meanwhile left tire still had wire sticking out.
I put spare on the ground and wire tire in trunk.
Spare and right front not in good shape.
Called Discount Tire in Waxahachie;  they had our tire.
Drove to Wax-A-Hachet and had tire fixed; ate lunch; got a big gulp and came home.
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If you don't think I had an expensive last couple of weeks, you are way wrong.   Thanks to our close friend  Master Card - all is well and we are driving once again.
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This is an experiment to see how the light blue background looks on the bluggy.
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and now we are looking at what color?  This is a test.   Green.  Good boy.
I'll see ya guys soon - must change the water - it is Thursday, our marathon watering day.
me

Marauder and tired

This has been a tough week.  Nothing bad has happened to speak of, but it has had me thinking all week - working in the brain area.  
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Our Marauder went into the shop on Monday.  At 150,000 miles, you might think it would have a problem now and then - and it did.   We have found drops of liquid under the rear end of the car for several day.  I'd say there are 20 different drops on the driveway.  Then, I started it one morning and it sputtered around for about 10 - 15 seconds till it finally went varooom.
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Monday it went to the shop.  It spent two whole nights in that shop away from our driveway.   Let me stop here and say that I was introduced to the Eagle auto shop a couple years ago.  One of the service writer guys at the local Ford house told me to look him up.  I did.  Rusty Deliago is their service mgr...I may have misspelled that name.   Good guy.  Fun to talk to.  Knowledgeable.  I heard that he use to be the service mgr at local Ford house.  Could be.   Rusty is more than fair when you take something in for service.
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Today's bill was the largest I have ever had with Eagle -- $346.92.   They replaced the seal on the rear end [ can't spell differential I think ], replaced some hoses in the engine area leaking stuff as well as another part having to do with the idle, and fixed my hood so it would actually open.  It seems that some parts for the Marauder are not common to the Grand Marquis and must be ordered special.    You try that amount of service at the Ford house.  I betcha it would be well over $600.  My daughter came up here this year with her Explorer - all four of her electric windows wouldn't work....can you believe it?
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Instead of selling her 4 new motors and other connecting equipment, Eagle lubricated the windows and told her to use them more often.  I really like this group.  Do not come to Corsicana to get your car fixed.  I am not sure I want the world finding them - selfish - why share? - nevermind - c'mon and let em fix it.
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Also had to replace the 2 back tires this week at a substantial fee.  I won't go into details, but the Marauder has special needs when it comes to tires.  Z rated.  and more.  Front and back tires are different sizes.  I replace 2 tires every year .... usually around June 1st when it is time to get the car inspected.
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All of this tire and engine work money output  has drained me today.   You can guess that anytime I spend anywhere over $600 to $700 in just one day, I am emotionally drained.  So much so, it is bedtime for me.  ^Tis a bit past 9 and I am going to bed.  Don't call; I won't answer the phone tonight.  Friday should be less stressful.  Maybe not.  The wife has a full day of projects planned outside tomorrow.
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I have had some other issues this week - plus my brother's wife is having some health issues that keep us all on edge, but I feel those details are too personal to air out in public  (nothing to do with my wife and kids or dogs - importance in that order).  So y'all go find something useful to do this evening.  Snoring will be my contribution to society.
m

Sit/knit and racing we go

The other plan - write something within this space frequently.
Wednesday past, I scribed the following.  it was not posted because I thought it was incomplete.
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'Tis Wednesday.  'Tis.
I have been sitting here admiring the computer screen waiting for a brilliant thought to come out.  None so far.   
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The wife is in town with a bunch of age-appropriate ladies at the Senior Center - Sit and Sew - I call it Sit and Knit - They meet for a couple hours weekly working on some project and talk - I'm sure there is no gossip, just talk.  Showing photos of grandkids, talking about the weather,  knitting, sewing, whatever else those wild women do.
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I made  her a little sign to take to her gathering.  I'm sure it will be a hit.
                                   
                                   SIT and KNIT
                                       or you'll
                                SQUAT  and ROT
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a good philosophy for us in our age range.
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Meanwhile I sit at home babysitting - uh, make that dog sitting.  It is much too cold to venture outside.  The wind from the north is coming off the lake like it has a purpose = frosting my windows...freezing my toes...chattering my teeth -   Spring will arrive sometime; I just don't know when.
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LUNCH:  Turned on the TV as I ate chili leftovers.  I  found a BECKER festival on channel 238 and have thoroughly enjoyed laying back and enjoying his continual bad attitude.
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My Dot Laura called - her hubby will be training soon for working in a post office.   Sometime soon he gets to drive to Ft. Worth for  training.  There will be a stay-over in a motel.   Made me think of a country/western song:  "Overnight in a Fort Worth motel."   Either that or one of those scary movies where monsters live in the next room over just waiting till you fall asleep or take a shower.
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That was it.   too short, I thought - And substance?  Looking for substance.  Little there I think.
My Friday post didn't materialize and now here I am on Saturday.
Let's take a look at my Saturday...no, let's talk last night.  Daught Christine drove up last night with her 3 dogs:  Buddy (she spells it Butty), Wesley, and Ollie  (Ollie was originally named Ali after Mohammed Ali by a family who gave him up -  Ollie cannot tell if you are saying Ali or Ollie. Go Figure).  It was a busy evening getting the dogs in and all settled.  Went to bed early for me.
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This morning, the wife roused me out of bed about 20 till 6 - that would be 5:40 for you digital people.   I'm not quite sure of the exact time due to being incapable of movement in that time frame.  Up - at breakfast - prepared myself for the day - we drove away from the house at 6:30 a.m.  I haven't seen that number since retirement, nor do I care to see it again in the near future.
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Why?  You may ponder.  Why is any sane person getting up before 6 on a Saturday?  My lovely wife (bless her heart) and my daughter (bless her heart) conspired together to participate in the local run / walk for charity this morning; and I,  (bless my heart) agreed to share the experience. It was run by the local Lions Club via the Y.  You had a choice 1 mile or 5K.  Anyone want to guess which I chose?  That's right, one mile.   There were people there dressed to run and others dressed for walking.  
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Before it started we gathered in the parking lot to warm up.  Some skinny young girl turned up the rock and roll loud music and led the crowd in all sorts of exercises.  My take was different than theirs.  If I warm up, I will be too tired to walk the mile.  C'mon.  15 minutes of running  in place - jumping jacks - push ups - the skinny girl, did I mention she was bubbly?  Precious thing.  
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Exercise over.  Line up.  Mob style.  Some guy who looks like he has never punished himself with exercise, holds up a pistol and a loudspeaker.  Bam!  The race is off.  Thin guys up front take off in a fervor chasing a white pickup with blinking lights.  We started to walk.   One mile.  Follow the arrows.  It was a pleasant walk until we figured out nobody was behind us.  Nobody.  We were dead last - so to speak - never use the word "dead" to an old guy walking in a race.   I would guess we were 1/3rd of the way through the mile when we met people (1 milers) who were heading home.
They seemed quite intent.  .   .  but if they were truly serious about this whole thing, wouldn't they do the 5 K part?
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Some people had dogs - some were pushing babies - one guy was carrying his little daughter on his shoulders - they were all ahead of us.  There was this one dog, a pretty breed, forgot the breed, almost Lab size,  maybe my wife will add the name in the comments below, it was trotting along in front of us.  As we got nearer the finish, we began to catch the dog.  I was so proud.  Closer and closer we pulled up on the young lady and her dog. Proud.   Perhaps I should mention that we were in a residential area at this time.  The dog was stopping at each mailbox for a sniff and appropriate discharge.  Every time she stopped for a sniff - we gained on her.  Then we entered the park part of the race, no more mail boxes, the dog started to pull away.
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At least 7 people doing the 5 K passed us before we finished including our local Vet.
We ended the race - I was dead last - they took our photo - 22:38 minutes - we got a purple ribbon with a pretty gold tassel.  Being serious runners, we quickly turned left and filed into the YMCA to find the restrooms.  That was emotional.  In the men's room there was this ugly old guy going to the showers  - he was as naked as a Jay Bird.  I realize that showers are for naked people - I realize that - I was just not prepared for the sight that I saw.  He must have been squatting and rotting.
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and with that, I close.   The rest of the day was good too.  Derrick Days in Corsicana.  Stay tuned.
m

Sport & the trip to town

When it rains it pours. Not around this house weatherly speaking. But in other matters it is true.

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We have this little 2001 Ford Explorer Sport which we pull behind our little motorhome - if and when we ever get to go anywhere....  That should be all caps.   IF AND WHEN WE EVER GET TO GO ANYWHERE !!!!   Since our septic system died last spring and we have gone into debt to pay for the little stinker, travel has been limited. 

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It is a smaller Explorer than today's models - 2001 was different.  You may remember when Ford and Firestone had all the problems with roll-overs and bad tires  and Frod Explorers.   If not google it.   Wellppers that is the model we have.   We rarely drive the Sport. I think it has 67,000 miles after 11 years plus. We bought the explorer after our Honda CRV was destroyed in Washington D.C. on a trip to New Hampshire.

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I may have never written that stone on this site.  It was an unpleasant experience.   Brenda & I and daughter Laura in the back seat were out at night looking at the lights of D.C. We turned left with an arrow near the Lincoln Memorial.  It has now been renamed as a Honda CRV memorial. This guy in an older Lincoln - one of those big battleship - came sailing through the intersection and hit the right front fender.    After creaming  us, it took him well over a block to take control and get his Lincoln stopped.   We went in a complete 360 degree twirl. There is more to that stone, but I will let it go till later.

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Today I drove the Sport to town. Bruno had to see the Vet to see if his ears had cured - things growing inside. I might mention that 30 lb Bruno, who has been on a diet for 2 weeks, is now 28.6 lbs. I can't tell it; but, he is. Left the Vet and bought gas at Walmart. The car wouldn't start. Turn key. Silence.

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Now this has happened twice before. The first time BJ had her hairdresser jump start the car with her Ford 350 super duty heavy duty dully pickem up truck. That is trrrruuuuuuck. The next time it happened I was in Walmart parking lot (we spend a lot of time at our Walmart). Turned the key. silence. I walked around back and got the mechanic to jump start our Sport  in order to check the battery. Battery is fine. It was bought July, 2011. Good battery. Roll over. Sit. Don't play dead.

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Today. no startee. Opened the hood - fastened the jumper cables - caught the eye of an old guy in the next gas stall - we were gonna get help from a guy with a big U.T. sticker on his pickup. Bruno was waiting patiently for me; he doesn't care who has what sticker on the back of their truck. As an afterthought, I turned the key; silence. Did it a second time, ROAR. It is not the battery, I tell you. The UT guy (and I) thought, it must be the ignition switch.

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My wife was in town with the Marauder attending the Corsicana Quilt Guild monthly meeting. I got on my phone and called and called and left texts. Drove straight to our repair place. I think I may have found the best auto repair place in the State of Texas.  Eagle Motor - Sales and Service.   Surely I have said that before.   I explained the starting problem, and said that I thought it might be the ignition switch. He disagreed immediately without an ounce of hesitation. Starter Solenoid.  Once again my degree in Music Education paid off.

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I mention that it did not make that RRReeeewsainnnngggg noise that I associate with a bad solenoid. He educated me that the ford explorer has the solenoid on top of the starter thus ...... my eyes glazed over.

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In addition , when I put my foot on the brake I feel a grinding. Years back I would have thought it was dirt on the brake pads - you can feel the grinding. Well, I could be wrong again, couldn't I?   He says it is the automatic braking system. That when something isn't working right you get that feeling in the brake pedal.

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Left my keys. Went outside and sat with Bruno and called the spouse for the umpteenth time. All turned out well. She got out of the quilt meeting - called me back - picked U S up - went home - ate lunch.

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Bruno was anxious to go to the back yard where he was greeted by four curious dogs. There was a lot of nose rubbing and doggy smelling of parts that should go unsmelled in my opinion. Bruno's brother Oscar was first to greet and stayed the longest. After all, They are Twins and have never been apart. I thought it was rather touching...well besides the sniffing and all...

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The Sport is getting spruced up and will be ready to journey hopefully by tomorrow's day end. Tomorrow? well we get to go to our 2nd diabetic cooking class tomorrow. I wonder what treat she will force feed me after class.   That's it.  Y'all take care and pray for a quick fix on the sprt.    Me Mtz

to tire or to retire - that is the question

so the wife & I took a little trip to Tyler yesterday to look at roses and go to a couple of estate sales. We bought little - nothing really - it was an outing to get out of the house.

Coming back - on the loop around Athens - my right front tire exploded. I was moving at 65 mph. The car handled pretty well consider I had only 3 tires working. I moved to the right side of the road to the shoulder. It was (give or take ) 5000 degrees F. outside. Since I had had the other tire experience last month, I had a process worked out, and it did not take too long. Another Big Gulp came within 10 miles of the big bang.

Here is the bit - the entire tread came off in one big round piece. It moved inside the wheels and hung on the axle. All that was left was the wheel and about 2 inches of rubber sidewall on the in and outside of the tire. I have never seen tread come off in one piece. Of course, wrapped on the inside of the wheel, the tread messed with the ABS - automatic braking system - yellow warning light on dash.

My spare is okay so we limped home - steering wheel shaking back and forth like perhaps there was a tire balance or wheel alignment problem. In the driveway I took photos which will come at a later date. Looking at the good front left tire, I discovered wire sticking out on the inside of the tire. The outside of the tire looked just fine to me - the wire was hidden just a little bit down on the inside of the tire.

This morning we took the car into my favorite repair place Eagle Motor etc. I love this place. Always - I MEAN ALWAYS - these guys have worked for me in a 100% great way. The guy even remembers my name. And he does what needs to be done - nothing more. This time he found the ABS wire had come loose. He repaired it.....didn't sell me a new one....get this, he repaired the old one. He could have sold me the whole system, sensor -wire - and you name it. Nope, just repaired the connection. For all I know, he may simply have plugged it back in. I don't know how these things are connected - but still, he didn't sell me a whole new system. He likes my Marauder.

When was the last time you had a car fixed for $61.30? Amazing. We drove to Waxahachie and bought 2 new tires and had a front end alignment at Discount Tire. Next we drove 2 blocks down the street to National Tire & Battery where I ordered 2 new tires for the rear. He said they would be in next Wednesday. This evening (around 6) they called - the tires were in. Guess what we are doing tomorrow. Note that I have not talked about the cost of tires.


Because the Marauder used Z rated (or thereabouts) low profile tires - these tires are softer than the normal tire. The tires are rated for about 20 to 30,000 miles TOPS.


When will it all end? If it isn't one thing, it is another. The good thing -if there is one - gas at Waxahachie's Wal-mart was $3.41. Somehow, that is bitter sweet.


Pity accepted.
mtz

m

Band Problem

Read my first email regarding my Nephew Stephen's book.  It is worth the trip.

Started reading emails tonight.  There was a notice from my bank that I had a problem with my debit card.  They call this an email alert.  Not being anyone's foo -- I closed that message and went to the bank's website and signed in....there was the alert again on their website.

It seems that somebody has my debit card info and has used my debit card 4 times in Jamaica NY and there abouts.

TVM Jamaica NY  for $40  == I understand this is some type of transportation place.
3 different ones  from MTA Vending machines for $104 each    in  NY

The bank caught it and cancelled my debit card.  Now, I think that is pretty dang good.  Amazing even.   I will go down and get me a new card and will continue spending money.  But how did they get my stuff?  I only use the debit card at specific places.  But a couple of days ago I used it at a local jewelry shop run by a guy that must 485 years old.   He had a new machine and frankly didn't know how to use it right.  I had to teach him how to use his machine.  This could sound a bit phony.

The lady on the phone went throug the reasons like something on the front of my atm machine -- possibly someone at the bank is a crook -- and so forth.   I just don't know.  I get all my money back so I suppose all will be fine.

To get my money I do have to call the dispute dept. tomorrow sometime.  That should be fun.

late -- nighty night
mtz