HOME IN CRISIS, SORRY ABOUT THAT

We’ve got a lot of stuff going on around here. I won’t be able to read other blogs today and I might not be able to deal with comments much more either. Between the workmen coming in and the rest of the mess, I can’t. Bear with me please. Sometimes, reality intrudes on blogging.

Comments are closed. I just can’t deal with any more right now.

NOT OFF TO A GOOD START – 2015 WEEK #35

SHARE YOUR WORLD – 2015 WEEK #35

What made you feel good this week?

Nothing yet. I’ve been up and about for three and half hours and all of it has been on the phone straightening out messes with Amazon, Charter Cable (bad DVR box), a pharmacy, and three doctors.

The good part? I scheduled my granddaughter’s 19th birthday party, which she is having here because hey, that’s what grandparents are for!

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I have rescheduled 3 appointments: two for me, one for Garry. I have filed a complaint (Amazon), received refunds and apologies (Amazon). It is now 11:45 AM. I’m exhausted.

It’s Monday morning, so this week is not off to what I would call a terrific start. But you never know. Maybe this is the worst it will get, in which case, it’s okay. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

For potlucks or parties do you cook it yourself, buy from a grocery store, or pay for catering?

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It depends. There haven’t been any events of this kind in the last couple of years. I used to cook, but then I switched to buying desserts from the local bakery. But every once in a while, I still get the urge to bake and I always share the results, party or not.

What is your favorite part of the town/city you live in.  And what Country do you live?

My town is so ridiculously small, you either love all of it, or none of it. Uxbridge is a town of about 11,000 people in south central Massachusetts. We are in south Uxbridge, which isn’t a separate town, just the most southern end of the township. The Village of Uxbridge is much smaller than the town.

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If you know anything about the way New England is structured, you know that there are the counties, then towns, then villages. Each has different boundaries. Massachusetts is, for those who care about legal differences, a commonwealth rather than a state. There is a difference, but at this point in history, it’s more a technicality than significant.

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If I had to pick a single place to love especially much, it would be the dam over the Mumford River.

Historical Context
Commonwealth originally meant a region governed by the people, not a monarch. England was a commonwealth from around 1649 to 1660. During the American Revolution, the colonies of Massachusetts, Virginia and Pennsylvania declared themselves commonwealths. Thereby they signaled that they were no longer governed by the British monarchy but were an independent republic. At the time, Kentucky was part of Virginia. In 1790 when it separated from Virginia, Kentucky chose to retain the commonwealth moniker.

Complete this sentence:  My favorite place in the whole world….. 

My favorite place is home.

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No matter where I go — or how much I complain — this is the place where I feel “right” with the world and myself.

BICYCLE PORTRAITS

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As HEDley Lamarr once said, “My mind was a raging torrent,” as I saw the bicycle and the folks settled in front.  They were dipping their toes in the lake on a warm, sunny day.

Actually, I was thinking of a scene from one of my favorite movies, “Night of The Hunter”. There’s a shot through a cobweb of kids playing in a field. So, my inspiration came from Charles Laughton, the acclaimed actor in his his only directorial effort.

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The bicycle, its spokes, the people, the lake and beyond offered many possible stories.

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The images on images also reminded me of dream sequences. I was so inspired that I lay down on my stomach to get some of these shots. I would later regret that effort.

File this under my fountain of youth/Fellini picture shoots.

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PAGING PONCE DE LEON

Carly Simon is in my head a lot these days singing, “You’re So Vain”. After decades of seeming perpetual youth in my career as a reporter, the portrait in my attic has become an illusion. It’s something with which most people who work in the public eye must come to grips as time goes by.

First, it was my hair turning salt and pepper, then predominantly gray. And, then, oh horror! A bald patch atop my head which has crept ever forward. Mother of mercy!!

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As a TV news guy, I was on the air several times a day, five or six days a week. For 31 years. I remember walking into an electronics store and seeing myself on dozens of TV sets, surrounded by a throng of appreciative people. From an ego point of view, it just doesn’t get much better.

The hair crisis was paralleled by my body telling me I could no longer work such long hours, nor party with little sleep and questionable dietary habits.

Understand that I’ve been retired going on 15 years now but I’ve been very slow to accept that the guy I see in the pictures on our wall no longer exists. Last week, I visited my two younger brothers at our family home. Our mission? Prepare the 60-year-old house for sale. Huge cleanup. My body cried for relief the first day. My brothers were sympathetic. I was grateful but my ego took a hit.

Three brothers and a cousin

Three brothers and a cousin

The drive home from West Hempstead to Uxbridge was out of “The Twilight Zone”. Bumper to bumper from start to finish. More than five hours! I used to relish such trips, regardless of traffic. It was fun in those convertible days, top down, letting memories blur the idiotic, incompetent motorists around me.

My convertible days are history along, with my tolerance for long hours on the road.

Credence Clearwater Revival rode shotgun the final hour of the drive, keeping me alert as I finger tapped the steering wheel. “Midnight Special” played a half-dozen times, right into our driveway as I arrived home and allowed myself a long sigh. I slowly — very slowly — extracted myself from the car. I tried to stretch.

Oh, the dismay. The fear and trembling. Where the hell was Ponce De Leon when I needed him? Probably still in his eternal search for that elusive fountain of youth …

ODDBALLS OR LEFTOVERS? 2015 WEEK 35

CEE’S ODD BALL PHOTO CHALLENGE: 2015 WEEK 35

These days, there’s no real line between oddball and not oddball, only between pictures I’ve posted … and pictures I haven’t posted yet.

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Drought

Drought

Just a word about time passing. Once again, we are heading into autumn. I can’t believe that summer is ending. I can’t believe a year has passed … and I’m still here. Guess I’ll stick around for a while longer.

CONTEMPLATING AN ETERNITY OF YOUTH

Once again, WordPress is kindly offering to let me partake of a magical moment … in fact, magic itself. A drink from the very Fountain of Youth itself! What senior citizen could turn down such a great offer?

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I’m a little suspicious. I know I’ve gotten more than a bit cynical over the years, but offers like this … isn’t there some fine print I need to read? Isn’t this the kind of contract you make with a dark stranger at a crossroad in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night?

Bwahaha,” laughs old Scratch as he scurries away, paperwork in hand. “Snagged another old fool.”

If I’m to be forever young, able to drink from the frothy waters of that famed fountain, does it mean I have to also be forever stupid? I would have no objection to a young, resilient body. A back that bends, good skin, hair that stays on my head where it belongs. All these youthful things are, as we said in my real youth, groovy.

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A brain came with that package. Oy vay. Such a brain. It was filled with certitude based on books I’d read and some late night conversations with other undergrads. Mind you, I’m sure that’s how we have to be when we’re young. Otherwise, we would never have the courage to face our lives.

A certain brashness and belief that we can triumph no matter what is a prerequisite for getting on with life. I get that. I just don’t want to have to live in that head for even a little while, much less all eternity.

Actually, all eternity is a pretty daunting prospect and I’m not sure how I feel about it … but perhaps that’s another post for another Sunday morning.

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So if they are giving away drinks from the fountain of youth, I will accept my slurp — IF I get to keep my current brain with all its experience, cynicism, and hard-won lessons. And I want a codicil specifying that while I get to feel young for as long as I live, I don’t think I want to live forever.

Long, maybe, but forever? To watch all the world I know disappear and who knows what to follow? I think not.