What I Have To Say

You know, driving around delivering pizzas gives me plenty of time to think of things, and often I think, "That's what I need to post on the non-blog about."

And then, by the time I'm home I'm too tired to bother, and by the time I'm not too tired to bother, I've forgotten all about it... or at least all except for the fact I'd thought of it.

I know I have a rant/friendly lesson on how to put the numbers on you home, and what things to consider when you do this. But I'll save that for later.

I used to have a little tape recorder I could use for this, but I think it might be in the city dump now, as a result of the whole Great Basement Clean-Out of 2005. It would come in handy now, as I could rant into the tape recorder and post the edited rant later.

Anyway, I have many thoughts that aren't making it here. So there.

Hope everyone is having a wonderful life. I'm a great-uncle again. Zachary Cade Leake (I'm guessing on the spelling and I STILL haven't gotten an e-pic yet of him) was born on November 2nd.

It's almost time to put up the Christmas decorations! Hooray!

Wah.

Okay, that last post reads much more bitter and angry than I'd intended. Or much more "Wah" than I'd intended.

And I certainly didn't mean to never ask me how I am, especially if you're actually wanting to know.

I just meant that it's fun and exciting to be working all the time.

I kid.

Anyway, wah me.

I got up early today to get some stuff done before another meeting, and while waiting for the dryer to stop, I thought I'd re-read my last post. Glad I did. What a bright start to the day that was!

Hope all is well in everyone's world!

But Other Than That, How Did You Like The Play, Mrs. Lincoln?

I had to use that for a title, because I love that line. I don't know who to credit for it, however. Google for "play, Mrs. Lincoln", and you'll see how there are many variations on the line.

I also choose it because it's sorta how I feel about putting an update on here. I'm working 1.75 jobs (or one full-time, one almost-full-time), taking nights off 1.5 days a week for other obligations, and Sundays off for my sanity.

Which translates to very little sitting-at-home-being-me time.

Also, I'm running a sleep shortage like you wouldn't believe. I get home at midnight or so some school nights and have to do laundry so I have a uniform the next night. Other nights I'm home at 10 and have to do laundry.

So it seems stupid to get on here and update people, as the update is "326th verse, same as the first".

I am getting a lot of think time. If I ever have a really long stretch to sit and write, I've got some GREAT projects worked out in my head.

Also, I'm almost getting bills paid.

Okay, speaking of bills, I need to vent (and update at the same time... two birds down, infinity to go):

Remember the flat tire? Well, I took it to Wal*Mart and there was the whole delay thing mentioned in the earlier post. I noticed when they were putting my tire on that they had to stop partway around and seemed to be having some sort of trouble, but then got over it and moved on. I didn't think much of it at the time, other than the fact it was making me even more late than I already was.

The next weekend, I've got a flat tire again. This was the tire I had just had put on.

I went to Wal*Mart. They tell me I'll have to wait four hours. I said, "To finish the job you started last week?"

Apparently so.

I go to a manager... actually, I go to the customer service desk, and I say, "I'm in a rush, so I need to go as high as I can go on the customer service chain without dialing a phone" and got a manager who pointed out that it wouldn't be fair for me to go in front of those people who got here before me, to which I replied, "They got here last week? Because that's when I brought this job in and you people failed to do it correctly."

He told me he was sorry, and I left, pointing out that he wasn't sorry, or he'd actually do something to rectify the situation.

So, hello Tires Plus.

After some waiting and a drive home on the donut to shower and change, I learn that Wal*Mart put the tire on a bent rim. This explains that trouble they had getting my tire on, but it's still a mystery as to why they wanted me dead. The Tires Plus mechanic was so wide-eyed I thought his eyes were going to fall out. Apparently this is an appling thing for Wal*Mart to have done.

So, I ask Tires Plus if they can get a new rim.

They said lots of words that basically came to, "Well, we can direct you to a place because none of us know who we call about rims."

Uh.. okay.

So I call Bowman, and he helps by making some phone calls for me on Monday. I give up when it seems unlikely and just call Tires Plus to see if the guy who knows where they get rims has made it in to work.

He has, and I tell him I just want them to get the rim, and ask how much, etc. He verifys my phone number, which was off by a digit, and so we presumably fix that.

Tuesday: No call. Rehearsal in the evening.

Wednesday: No call. Parent/Teacher Conferences in the evening.

Thursday: No call. Parent/Teacher Conferences in the afternoon. Work in the evening.

Friday: No call. After school lets out at 11:15, I drive home and decide to call and find out what the delay is.

I wish I was lying about this next part...

"Mr. Riggs, we need to know what type of car you drive in order to get the rim."

Um... see, theres' this thing I have (thanks Ruth) called a cell phone. You can reach me on it pretty much all the time (except during school hours). I gave them that number. I had not heard from them. And so, when I call on FRIDAY, and they mention they can't order it until they know what kind of vehicle I have...

And I was so tired of the whole... being awake and dealing with life thing, that I just politely told them what it was.

This reminds me, I need to call them after I'm done here. Maybe they'll remember me.

Anyway, in the meantime I have been driving around on a donut. That's closing Monday night, Thursday night, Friday night, an Saturday night.

I seriously don't know how much more this donut can take.

Meanwhile, I still need to call Wal*Mart and demand the money back for the incompetent manslaughter attempt or whatever they're calling tire changes at Wal*Mart these days.

But other than that, how have you been, Mark?

Hooray! Another Flat Tire!

Because life is too easy, it's always nice that small difficulties like this arise.

Yesterday, 4:20-ish.

I was due in to work at 5:00.

Luckily, I had my phone.

Got out of the tire place around 7:00.

Made it to work around 8:00.

Joy.

Dallas

Before the weekend of the 8th, the most I knew about Dallas was the Kristin shot J.R. and Bobby's in the shower.

My impressive singing powers (I kid) were needed in Dallas, so on the morning of the 6th, I took off in a carpool with a couple of other people whose voices were needed (along with about, um... fifty others).

The night before, Ruth left me a message that my cell phone had arrived (my first cell phone, which I wouldn't have if it weren't for Ruth). Of course, someone was fired at P.J., so I ended up closing, which meant I couldn't pick it up until the morning.

Oh yeah, and I'd be up for quite a while doing laundry.

Anyway, I picked up the phone, and it's good that I did, because before we got out of the greater K.C. area, I realized I'd left my digital camera on my front porch... in plain view of anyone who might think hocking a stolen digital camera might be a great second job.

So I thought of the one person I know who might have some flex time to go pick it up, and I called her. Tricia told me that Ben was near my house, and she'd call and have him pick it up. So the first half of that crisis didn't last long.

However, I do have that other blog where I take a picture every day. Luckily, Wal-Mart sells disposable cameras very cheaply.

But a camera with 27 exposures is not a digital camera with several hundred exposures. I had to be picky, and I had to be 4 to 12 feet from what I wanted to photograph.

The trip was long, but I spent it grading papers. And grading papers. And grading papers.

We arrived in Dallas around 6:00-ish, and got to where we needed to meet up with others around 7:00-ish. We ate at the original Black-Eyed Pea, so there was my sight-seeing for the weekend.

After dinner I met my host for the weekend. He was a nice guy who had a house far away from everywhere we needed to be that weekend, but I enjoyed seeing different parts of the Dallas area.

He had two dogs, and he used to have a cat. I think some tiny part of catness must have remained in his home, because the morning of the 7th I had very bloodshot eyes, which normally comes from my being around a cat. Good news: didn't happen again all weekend.

Saturday was a rehearsal day, and that night we did a sort of Meet-n-Greet. There was a comedian for entertainment, and in general it was a good time.

The concert itself was on Sunday. It was very stressful, because I was doing a solo and also singing music I wasn't as familiar with as I would have liked.

But it also kicked butt.

Of course, as fate would have it, one night (either Saturday or Sunday) I was in what I assume is the downtown Dallas area, and the harvest moon was framed by two big buildings... would have been a great shot with my camera. Oh well. Grr.

Monday was the drive back, and I can sum it up in two words: graded papers.

I think the people in Dallas must have found me very boring. I slept a lot. Grading papers tires you out.

Anyway, if I ever get these photos off this CD, I'll be able to catch up over at Still Life. I'm hoping tonight will be the night.

Update Haiku

I have been so sick--
One day better, next day worse.
Major sinus thing.

*Edited 9/18/06 for syllabic and health-related accuracy.

From Our "Heart on Sleeve" Department: A Poem

First Anniversary

by Mark Riggs

Hard to believe--a year has passed
Since that time I saw you last--
A year since I brushed back your hair,
And kissed your cheek, and watched you stare...

I know no reason for a pause
Except the Earth is where it was
The day our shared time here was done
(In terms of placement from the sun).

Twelve months have gone since our last scene,
And I've done nothing in between--
No deeds to make you swell with pride--
In these twelve months since you have died.

I've been on stage, and you'd have done
Your sotto voice of, "That's my son."
My average has shown modest gains
When throwing fifteen pounds down lanes.

As part of some confusing search
I find myself each week in church.
I wake each painful day and try
To heed your words: to laugh, not cry.

And laugh I do, but here's the thing:
You are not here to watch me sing
Or bowl or laugh or search or teach
or listen to my tales of each.

And here's a thing I know and fear:
In twelve more months, another year
Will be between then and new now.
Still, I should carry on somehow.

For you were gone before that day.
No laughing smile, no playful way
That meant my mother was still here.
Yes, it's been longer than a year.

So here's a plan of what I'll do
Until I get to be with you--
Well, assuming there's some after
When I'll get to hear your laughter.

Within my heart I'll keep a list
Of mother things--all sorely missed.
I'll cherish them--and share them, too
And that's my way of keeping you.

Three hundred sixty-five days and
I still wish I had held your hand
When I told you we understood
And if you had to go, you should.

Now I wonder if this aching
Means my heart will not stop breaking...
No more laughter and no more scenes.
No more grandmother in blue jeans.

No more face full of mother's pride.
No more feeling of joy inside
That came from being there with you.
It's been twelve months--and nothing's new.

I'm getting down--I should end this.
Just let me tell you that we miss
You being here. We really do--
Your children, and your grandkids, too.

In three hundred and sixty five
Times all the years left I'm alive
More days, I hope I can confess
I do not miss you any less.

(c) copyright 2006 Mark Travis Riggs

First Day of School

Today was the first day of school. The lead-up was killer, so I didn't get much done with that stuff I talked about in the last post... but I did start another blog.

Due to... well, lots of stuff, I guess... I was getting my room ready right up until (and while) the kids arrived.

As part of the craziness, I got to school this morning at about 4:50, and thought I wasn't going to be able to get in, but it worked out.

I'm dead tired right now. I'm excited about my new room, about this group of kids, and about the good vibe I've got for the year.

We shall see.

The First Annual "Wear Red For Patsy's Birthday" Is Next Week!

As some people may recall, I sent out a call for everyone to wear red in memory of my mother, Patsy, on September 10th and 11th of last year (we were having a sort of celebration of her life on the 11th, and her memorial service was on the 10th). I even encouraged sending digital pictures of yourself in red (and jokingly suggested holding up that day's paper) to my e-mail address. Peggy (who has commented on here before) and Rick complied with the newspaper suggestion, as seen here:
My friends at Martin City Melodrama & Vaudeville Company went all out as well, as evidenced by Jon, Jeanne, and the "actor" who portrayed Tiny Tim when I portrayed Bob Cratchett shown here:

Jeanne's husband, Dan, and their daughter Cassandra participated, although the daughter in question opted for a construction-paper outfit to go with her pre-photographed costume:

And, as you can see, the actor who had portrayed Tiny Tim was very shocked at the news that my mother had passed:

Another actor friend (who also sings) went all-out for the event. His name is T.K. Durham. Can you guess what type of music he sings? Here are three chances for you to figure it out:

I have other pictures (from the celebration on Sunday the 11th), but blogspot is getting persnickety, so I'll save those for later.

My point is, I've decide to make August 20th the unofficial "Wear Red For Patsy's Birthday"--a date where I encourage everyone I know to wear red in honor of my mom, Patsy. Red was her favorite color, and I figure it would be nice on her birthday if she could look down from Heaven and see a sea of red... and I don't mean the Red Sea.

I kid. Mainly it's just a way to recognize that I had a mother and she played a very large role in my crazy sense of humor... and really probably anything else about me that's crazy.

I'd like to somehow tie it in to the Alzheimer's Association or something, but I don't know how to do that, other than to encourage you at this time to maybe make a donation to them. But I'm not even sure if there's such a thing as the Alzheimer's Association. I know there are lavender ribbons.

Anyway, on the 20th, would you please wear something red for Patsy's birthday? I'm going to try to post some Fun Patsy Facts on here to share with people who ask you, "Why are you wearing all that red?" So it's like a party, only not.

Join us!

The Bathroom That Wants Me Dead!!!

Starring: ME!

Okay, first: Leslie and Ruth still have another month to raise more funds... or just search that site for some poor schmoe who hasn't been able to raise the required minimum and donate to them instead...

Now, back to the new horror movie starring yours truly.

Remember that bathroom I nearly died in last year? I think it is trying to kill me. Okay, so it's only made two attempts in a fourteen-month period, so when we turn this into a screenplay, we might want to lose some of the down time--but, still, I'm worried for my life. It might try to get me again next summer.

Caution: This story contains the word "urinal". If you can't bear reading the word "urinal", you should probably not read beyond the end of the previous paragraph.

So, today (okay, yesterday, but it's still today in my head) I was in the Restroom of Harrowing Experiences, which is my new name for it.

I flushed the urinal and turned to go, letting go of the handle. The urinal did it's favorite trick, which is to do the urinal equivalent of saying, "Okay, I'm flushi--psych! I'm not flushing!"

This particular urinal does this often, and I was rolling my eyes as I was in the process of stopping to change direction a bit so I could reach back and hold down the handle. That's when it happened. My left foot just went sliding along the floor. My right foot was in mid-step. It was all very slow-motion-y, and I remembered thinking, "Okay, you're going to fall. Just fall in a way where you don't hurt yourself as much."

So, still in slow motion, I let myself fall backwards, saying a quick prayer about halfway down something along the lines of, "God, please don't let me crack my head on the urinal and bleed to death in here... and if that's a given, then please don't let my head land in the urinal." Okay, I'm kidding about the last part. I was mainly just thinking, "I can't die in this bathroom after failing to die in it last summer, right?"

The prayer was answered in the affirmative... or at least with an "Okay..." or maybe a "I'm sorry, what were you saying? Um... I mean, yes, behold my power over urinal concussions!"

Also, second miracle: Kids aren't at school right now, so the floor wasn't... um... icky. Just not cooperative with my sandals, I guess.

However, my camera, which was around my neck for reasons that are not about a creepy guy in a public restroom with a camera, but more about my room being constantly left unlocked while the building is being readied for the upcoming school year (and also more about this site and the fact I'm always taking pictures these days--only, not in the restroom), decided--or reacted according to the laws of physics, more likely, but I like thinking it had some free will--to fly up and hit me in the head. And this is no small camera.

So, I have this strange knot on my... well, not my eye, but on that bony part around the eye. It hurts. Also my elbow keeps complaining that I had plenty of time to land while going in slow motion, but apparently I didn't plan well enough to spare it any pain.

But, I survived this second attempt on my life by the forces of evil that possess that restroom. However, I'm thinking I'm gonna use the restroom next to the nurse's office from now on.

Never a dull moment, folks.

A Visit From Aunt Rachel

Twas five months before Christmas...

Forget that. Maybe in my younger days I would have taken that idea and ran with it, but I'm no spring chicken. Or any other kind of chicken. Or a spring anything.

Before I forget: Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk: Ruth, Leslie. Click the name to see their site.

Aunt Rachel is in town (and so are Cousin Karen, Cousin-in-Law Jim, and First Cousin Once Removed Cami) for Cami's softball tournament (I don't know if I'm spelling it right, but surely someone will tell me...) and I got to see them all tonight. Also, I saw First Cousin Once Removed Bryant as well.

I'm glad I got to hang out with Rachel, and not just because she wanted to buy us dinner. We got to sit around and talk, and I saw Sara, Kathy, Elizabeth, and Melanie for the first time in a while. It was a good time.

I'm very much wanting to do a full family reunion, complete with shirts. Okay, a Hickerson family reunion, specifically the offspring of Ada Hickerson. Complete, as I said, with shirts.

I watched another softball game. My second this summer. I remember enjoying playing baseball at one point. I think it started being unfun when they kept having to put me in the older kids' group, because not enough kids my age would sign up. Oh well.

Fun night. Long day yesterday with little sleep last night. Long day tomorrow. Going to bed soon. Bye.

Late Night Emotional Roller-Coaster

First, let me begin by saying Leslie & Ruth could both still use some support in raising money for their Breast Cancer Three-Day Walk. If you havn't looked at Ruth's drawing yet, to quote Riff Raff, "Go. Now."

Now, that plug and those links out of the way, I can go on to say how I've been laughing out loud for a while now over about three different things posted either on a blog or on myspace. Also, my heart has ached, and I was mortified to see I've had a typo in my profile here since the day I created it.

So, emotional roller-coaster.

A big Happy Birthday to my brother, Dane, who is celebrating the 38th anniversary of his arrival on the planet... I mean out of the womb. Whatever. No pro-life flame comments, please. Big family hoo-ha next weekend, so he'll have to wait for his card and lack-of-gift from me until then. We did just have a lovely late-night IM chat on Yahoo, although he needs to work on his closings, as now I'm wondering if something fell on the house and caused him to just suddenly stop typing.

Oh well. I guess if that's what happened, someone will call and notify me. And big shout-out goes to Patsy for THAT little attitude on life.

Mustard and...

Okay, time to play catch-up...

Tuesday I took the girls to see a BeTickled or Betickled program/concert/thingy. It was a fun concert. Maddie for some reason became shy, which was funny to see. She sat and acted like there weren't a lot of kids dancing around her. Olivia, on the other hand, seemed to really enjoy herself.

We played in the church playground afterwards, then walked over to a nearby park to play some more. It finally got to be too much for Maddie that there was this perfectly good swimming pool complete with lifeguards, and here she was without her swimsuit, so we went to have lunch.

Lunch at a fast food place... wow, I have a new respect for any parent who has taken more than one kid to a fast food place.

Anyway, active Tuesday.

Had a class all week. It was very informative, but during the parts that I got quickly, I became EXTREMELY bored and frustrated while the class kept focusing on what I'd gotten. Shades of math classes in college.

I was hoping to go to the concert thing Tuesday after next, but forgot I have a class/in-service/thingy that lasts all day every day that week.

I'm going back home for the weekend of the 29th. I'm looking forward to that, oddly enough.

Friday night I had a great duh moment. I was working, and this guy that I have delivered to was in, having ordered a pizza for carryout. I recognized him as the guy with some sort of hearing issue, as his doorbell is a "doorbell for the hearing impaired", for lack of the actual terminology, and he never "says" anything when I rattle off the "here's your order, here's what you owe me".

I looked at the carryout orders, and see one for a "bob" (and that's how it was written, and so shall I write it here). Me, being big "I used to teach basic sign language to 6th grade kids" guy, decide to sign to him "b-o-b" with an inquisitive expression, as if to say, "Are you Bob?"

He gives me this strange look, so I sign it again. Forgetting in my panic onset that I know the signs for "is", "your", and "name".

He makes a gesture for pen and paper, and we go from there. He wasn't "bob".

Right as his pizza is ready, and as I'm handing it to him, I realize my mistake. I had been signing "d-o-d" and not "b-o-b", so the poor man was probably confused as to why the Department of Defense had something to do with his pizza.

So, there's my "Stupid Mark" moment for the week. To celebrate, I went out to a drinking establishment.

And that brings me to a thought I had today about public dancing. There has to be one of three conditions for me to dance publicly: sufficient intake of adult beverages, "Love Shack", or choreography with rehearsals. Friday night, two of those conditions were met, and I was dancing and making a fool of myself, to be sure.

Well, work, work, sleep, Buffy, work, work. That's my life right now. It's not a perfect life, but it still beats last summer...

Don't forget, Ruth and Leslie could always use more donations for their Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk--and I still highly recommend viewing Ruth's page, just for the drawing she put on there.

(SFX: knock on door) Housekeeping!

Well, I've finally figured out how to add links. Hooray!

Also, I've started another blog, inspired by Reverend Andy and the movie Smoke (or whatever that movie was called.. Robert DeNiro (or someone Robert DeNiro-like) played a character who took a picture of the same spot every day in it). I'm striving to take a picture with my newly-working camera every day... and my guidelines are as follows: 1) It must capture, in some way, a part of that day, and 2) It must not contain people. I was thinking about it not containing animals, as I'm not apt to be around them much, but then I remembered the cat that thinks it lives on my porch, and how the day I finally decide it does understand what I'm saying when I say, "If you don't leave my plants alone and if you don't stop pooping all over the place here, I'm calling Animal Control," and I actually call Animal Control, I'll want to get a picture of the creature. That was a long sentence.

Leslie has made her walk goal, but both she and Ruth would both probably be okay with raising even more funds. Feel free to click on those links, if you'd like to help. (Also, Ruth's has a funny drawing she did of herself and my older sister, Rusty.)

No other news to report at this time, I guess. Housekeeping is temporarily complete.

People Are Great

Okay, I make no secret of the fact that I think people--in general--stink. I'm the inverse of Damon Wayans, who once said something along the lines of "People are a great concept, but a poor actuality." Again, not a direct quote.

When I think of people in the abstract, I tend to think they're just awful. In reality, I often times enjoy the company of people.

Oh, don't get me wrong... there are plenty of times I dont' enjoy the company of people... mostly because the people are antagonistic, irritating, or--worst of all--irritated... with ME! (How could anyone EVER be irritated with ME?)

Anyway, I sent out an e-mail plea to help my niece make her walk. It went to several people I wasn't sure read this regularly (and thus wouldn't see links--like this one--to Leslie's walk site). Not only did several people respond with positive words, etc., but several also donated, and at least one passed the link on to another family member--who also donated.

So, people are great. And I just came from delivering pizzas and I'm saying that!

P.S.: I know there are lots of reasons a good person may not be giving financial support. I'm not thinking any less of those who choose not to donate. I just want to put the opportunity out there for those who would like to take advantage of it!

Happy Birthday, Dear Rusty... a day late

My sister's birthday was yesterday... and I didn't get her called. I did, however, call Ruth from Papa John's and asked her to e-mail Say for me. I don't know if she did or not, but if she didn't, I've only myself to blame for not getting in touch with her sooner.

So it goes.

Remember, Leslie needs your support (she's walking for Say/Rusty/Lynne/her mom), and if you're a single woman, scroll down a couple of entries to read about Ty.

It's March!

Okay, not really. But it is on my website. And tomorrow I'll update to April. On Wednesday, I'll update to May, and on Thursday I'll update to June. Then, late Friday night, I can update to July and BE CAUGHT UP!

Hey, my niece Leslie is doing the Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk, and is SO CLOSE to her goal. If you feel moved to help, or would like to read about it, click here.

Tick, is it true that in those days of pizzadom, anchovies were VERY popular? Some guy told me that the other night while I was taking his order.

I've Been Alive for a Year This Week!

So Wednesday was the 52-week mark of my surviving my pulmonary emboli, and Thursday was the one-year anniversary.

Hm.

I was freaking out a little bit as those two days approached. I was nervous, and--insanely enough--constantly thinking I was about to die any second.

But it didn't interrupt with my Summer School duties.

Wow, I'm way behind here. Let's see if I can do an update-thing:

I went to bowl in OKC again this spring. Again, I'm accused of making out with someone when I really wasn't. Maybe a SMALL amount of close-talkiness, but mainly this person was just displaying how insane they were, and I was less sober than usual and not handling it well. When friends got near I was saying, "Help me, please..." but all that came from that is I got accused of making out. Go figure.

School ended without me breaking a leg and missing the last three weeks, so that was an improvement. I'll miss some of the kids... maybe about 20% of them... and that's low. This was a tough group.

Let's see... I got a solo for the last concert. It was the solo I wanted. I have found that I've stopped inviting people to come see me. Partially it's because it's not cheap, and partially from the whole rejection-thing (specifically: fear of). But people gushed. I smiled. I said, "Thank you." I'm still not comfortable with compliments. Maybe by the time I'm 50.

Still delivering pizzas. Notice my website has not been updated since February... actually, later than that. I keep thinking I'll get the other months in, but here it is almost July, and my website still says "February".

Okay, my favorite Papa John's manager, Ty, wanted me to tell people something along the lines that he's available and... well, I can't remember what I was supposed to say about his looks. It might come out sounding wrong if I'm too strong in complimenting his looks, and he--and any interested females--might be made uncomfortable. But he's available. He's 20, but finds "older women" to be attractive (but don't worry, younger ladies, I'm sure you're not out of the running entirely). To contact him... um... I don't know. Maybe leave a comment here, or stop by P.J. some evening when he's working.

That's it from me. My laundry has finished, so I'm off to bed.

Oh, Vieta, I got your blog comment right as I was getting ready to post this. How's that for strange? Still thinking of you and sending good thoughts your way.

Well, I Ain't Writin' No Haiku About It

Ruth left me a message last night that Uncle Jim passed away Sunday around noon.

Uncle Jim was Aunt Lois' husband.

So guess who is doing the officiatin'? There was a rumor going around that Olivet Christian Church in Center wasn't going to let any guest officiants after that mess that was the message at my aunt's service. Apparently this rumor is not-so-reality-based.

The service is Saturday, and like previous funerals involving husbands (or former husbands) of my aunts, I don't think I'll make it.

(At least I don't think I made it to Deana Mae's husband's funeral. I was pretty young at the time, but maybe I was there... one of my earliest memories was of seeing him still alive, though.)
Rachel's former husband Bill passed away back in 1999, I think... I know the service was on the day Ruth and I had to move out of that duplex in Overland Park, anyway. So I didn't make that one.

This time around, since I'm afraid I could go to prison for aiding my Aunt Rachel in killing "that S.O.B." that spoke so... well, "insultingly" doesn't really cut it, does it?

Anyway, I'm afraid I'd be all-too-cooperative in any plan she had to harm "that S.O.B.", so I think I'll stay away. I'm not sure if Dane is going. I need to see if we'd all like to contribute to some sort of flower arrangement or something.

There was this time when I was very young--say, mid-elementary age or so--and I realized my dad was so much older than everyone else's dad. Shawn Couch's dad coached us in little league, and did stuff with us. My dad was mostly... well, old and in the very early stages of the emphysema that finally took his life in the mid-80s. I remember thinking something along the lines of, "So, who do I have in the family who is like a younger dad?"

Uncle Jim came the closest. Uncle Bill (Rachel's husband) was way off in Omaha. I remember thinking it should be my mission in life to hang out with Uncle Jim, but on my next visit out to their place, I realized he was way too busy to hang out with me--and plus, most of the stuff they did on the farm was so foreign to me, I'd be of no use around the place.

I hadn't thought much about that until just now. Odd stuff, eh?

Anyway, I basically accepted that I didn't really have a "younger dad" figure like most of the kids I knew did, and I moved on with my life. Until now, when I've suddenly decided to dwell on it.

Okay, back to the discussion about urine samples in trucks.

The Great Orange Juice Fiasco

Okay, picture it: It's a lovely somewhat-spring-like morning. I had to run to the bank during plan time, because we were having Penny Wars at school, and I have an account at a bank that allows me to use the change-counting machine for not charge.

I'm on my way from the bank, a few strange coins that didn't want to go through the machine are in my pocket. I have the brilliant idea of stopping by Sonic to get an orange juice (because orange juice with crushed ice just ROCKS), and thus have some change to replace the change that wouldn't go through the machine.

I buy my orange juice with no problems at all. I put the straw in and have a sip. I have a drink carrier-thingy in the car, and I open it. I set the Styrofoam-like drinking container in the carrier, and vaguely notice it isn't a tight fit--a bit the opposite, really. However, I was getting ready to pull out into traffic, and didn't have time for such minor details.

I turn into traffic, and my precious, precious, PRECIOUS drink goes flipping over onto the passenger floorboard...

...and it lands "head first"...

...and the straw is forced up through the bottom of the container...

...and suddenly I've got this container that is leaking--scratch that--GUSHING orange juice from both ends.

Now, a little about my car: The driver's side window doesn't roll down.

So, keeping in mind that I've just entered traffic (and it wasn't THAT bad, but still, there were many vehicles I could have easily hit while driving and dealing with this container), and I'm holding this thing in my hand. Orange juice is getting on me, on the floorboard, on the drink caddy, and on my little catch-all between the seats.

Again, I can't just toss it out my window, as it won't roll down.

The up side? I had to deliver pizza that night, so I'd brought a change of pants with me.

All in all, I found this to be an enjoyable event, but I'd rather not repeat it.

Let this be a lesson to you that you should never trust a drink to stay in the drink caddy.