Pie Wagon

I almost slipped off the pot pie wagon today. It was as close as it could get. It felt to me that the pressure was building in the freezer section of my refrigerator. My friend Ross, who runs the township dump, gave me a double chicken TV dinner that was given to him, but he couldn't eat it because it had too much sugar. Ross is an outstanding human being in his late 80's. I couldn't turn it down and hurt his feelings, and besides that, sugar hasn't ever been something that concerned me. I returned home and shoved in the freezer out of sight, but not out of mind. Now, the food was reaching critical mass in my thoughts, and I had to do something soon, so I could quit thinking about the two frozen pot pies and TV dinner.
Today I pulled out the package and read the FACTS on the TV dinner. The sodium, cholesterol, and fat content made the pot pies look like health food in comparison. What should I do since I certainly didn't want to waste this food?
I remember Hope and Wm T. when the first cancer scare came over the radio about cyclamates. Apparently, some rats could develop cancer if they had too many cans of vegetables. This scare caused these products to drop to ten cents a can. Being practical people, they bought as many of these cans as they could at this bargain basement price. I made a loose connection in my thinking, brainstormed the event, and came up with the idea to cook everything at once. Maybe then, I could eat little portions, and become immune to the sodium, cholesterol, etc. in time. The jury is still out.

Comments @ Large

Looking for music on uTube, I have been really surprised at some of the comments that I have read by fans about the music. Many folks slam one another, drop F bombs, and show little appreciation for the gift. A couple of days back, I was blown away with this comment by GivenTheOdds, about a Dylan song (Visions of Johenna) sung by Marianne Faithful. This is a song I love, but I don't think anyone has ever captured in one sentence its essence. "Few peers would even know how to approach such riddle and cryptic metaphor galore." I still love Dylan's version better, but being a big Marianne fan, this version is enjoyable without comment.

Dilemma

Cabin fever last weekend found me in St. Helen, avoiding Tip Up Town, and looking for food fast. Not the normal fare, but hunger is immediate. So what do I chance upon, something I haven't eaten for years, pot pies. It was really good, and on sale. I took the plunge. I don't have total recall, so I only ordered one, mistake of the first magnitude! It was so good that I cursed my judgement the rest of the day for forgetting my reflexive response.
In 1970, the year that I quit Pontiac Motors, my daughter Colleen and I ate three of them every day for lunch a year straight. Since she was only three, and hadn't mastered nutrition facts, not a single whisper of complaint was uttered. In all fairness, she never complained about anything anyway.
I fired up two of them today, but after having learned to read nutrition facts myself, am a little nervous about eating them.

Cold Snap

Early yesterday morning, when I was getting ready for church, it was twenty-six degrees below zero. This would normally "shut all my machinery down", but I continued on my way. When I returned, I dealt with my attitude by taking a nap. This doesn't sound like a success story, but in my case it was indeed.
In the past, having a manic depressive personality meant that my brain chemistry would be out of balance for as long as two weeks. Perhaps longer if I hadn't exercised for awhile. Not that it would have had to have had a specific reason to crash for it truly had a mind of its own. Some years back, in my attempt to deal with this difficulty, I stumbled across this concept. "Change your mind, change your world." This crystalized my fragmented thinking. Why not deal with the mental world mentally?
My target behavior, since brain chemistry really isn't totally in your control, was a quicker turn around time. Less time in the swamp, so to speak.
The movie Beautiful Minds was an inspiration to me. John Nash, who was schizophrenic, won the Nobel Prize for mathematics. Talk about a mental world, this one even produced its own citizens that Mr. Nash could visit at his own leisure. The power of his mind was incredible and yet he had to deny it to sustain himself. This was a pure boot strap operation, hoping against hope.
Dealing with a much smaller brain in my case, MD ( Is that why the wine was called Mad Dog 20-20 ) was a much smaller problem.
When I woke up and commenced carrying wood for the fireplace, I noticed a fair sized icicle coming through my roof. No tail spin today, I just grabbed a spade, and sent that litter bugger crashing.

Hysteresis in Time

phenomenon in which the value of a physical property lags behind changes in the effect causing it."
In my daydream, I have always hoped, at some point, to be at the same age, at the same time, as my parents, or my kids, with the ability to communicate from that vantage point. This idea popped into my head some time back viewing a picture of Tolstoy reading to his grandson. Same place, same time, mind nova.

Town That Tips

This is the first weekend of two for the Tip Up Town Festival. I guess the original concept was ice fishing, but I really don't know about now. Snow mobiles rule, and I would be suspicious as to how much fishing is actually done. My annual goal is to mark these dates on my calendar so that I don't forget and chance on the festivities by accident.
On our snow day this week, I took a picture of Houghton Lake before the celebration. It gave me the sense of Edgar Allen Poe's story, "Into the White".

Sudden Shift

New to the photography enterprise, I am beginning to pick up on the importance of light. I like the picture I have here, but if I could have been about three minutes earlier a different sight you would see.

Falling into Childhood

A couple of years back, I bought an old bed frame off the street. The price was really descent, about $10, but it lacked one of the slats needed to hold up the mattress. About November of last year, it started falling down on the floor. After two months of successful procrastination, I fixed the problem by adding another slat. No one ever accused me of being a quick study.
I had some experience to draw on, as the same thing use to happen on the farm as a child. Then, Butch, Brian, and I all slept together in a double bed with the mattress hollowed out in the middle. If the covers were pulled too much to one side, the kid in the middle (me) received a rap on the head for his efforts. When the mattress did fall, which was quite frequently, the three us would work as a "team" to put it back together again. Often times, the effort expended on Brian and I to achieve success by the leader was more painful than failure. Live and learn.

Breaking Chains

The pilot would appear to hold to the view that great danger is great joy. Speculation on my part, but the plane is certainly a thing of beauty.

Song Writer +

Tori Amos is really great in so many ways

An Empty Set

The last, cold, Sunday morning, which was yesterday in fact, my car gauges displayed low tire pressure. Being an "On Duty Rudy, I decided to get some air in the tires before leaving town. Why postpone, or ruin my trip? It was so cold when I applied the air compressor valve, the tire stem snapped. Instead of low pressure, now there wasn't any. I changed the tire and drove home on my temporary spare.
Normally this would have cancelled my trip, but I thought instead, "Hey, don't miss the adventure".
So, I pulled my last, insured Fiero out of the snow and headed out. It was a wonderful visit, and I spent the night.
Next morning, as I hit the main road, I notice the oil pressure gauge is bouncing back and forth from zero. Leading indicator that trouble looms ahead. My first hope is that the reading is faulty, since my speedometer and other gauges fail on a regular basis. No such luck as I check the oil dip stick.
Gambling seems the only adventure alternative as I found myself one hundred and fifty miles from home. My odometer doesn't work, but I can coordinate the clock and the tachometer to calculate my distance traveled. It works out that one quart of oil every ten miles, will keep the machine moving. The road is clear, the game was on, hitchhiking in your own car.

For Joe & Susie Taylor

Visiting James and Susie was always a good time. Fun and laughter coupled with bottled spirits of a different nature. This continued even after they moved to Alabama, my adopted state. During one of these visits, I stopped in mid sentence. Iris was singing. I had never heard her before, but she was both familiar and unknown. From a past that hadn't happened.

When I returned to Michigan and played my new find for Joe, he reacted to her in the same way. Love at first ear.

Saving Face

Up until about a year ago, I was a critic of cell phone texting. Its value wasn't apparent until I tried it, and now I can see all kinds of utility for this application. Instant communication without physically speaking on a phone. That is real progress!

It seemed fair to me that I should also provide myself the same opportunity with Faceplate. I should learn a bit more before casting aspersions about wildly. I had hoped it would be the same eye opening experience in the communication arena as a cell phone had been. Not the case, as it seemed to have a mind of its own. Running amuck appeared to be fair play.

The parting photo when I disconnected still makes me smile. It was a baby picture of one of my friends saying that they would miss me. Tugs at the heart strings, if you know what I mean.