What's a Delmer Look Like?

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September 30, 2007

September 07 Blood Work

At one point I was taking three Tic-Tac sized pills (Dostinex, a.k.a. Cabergoline)  twice a week for a total of six pills a week. Without insurance this would have run about $1000 per month.

As time has passed my Prolactin has dropped to the point that I'm now taking one pill twice a week. The last reduction in my meds came about 5 months ago.

This past Thursday's blood draw shows that in the past 5 months my Prolactin has gone up just a hair. It's still well within range, however, and may be dropped to 1/2 pill soon.

As for my Testosterone, I've got about 25 times the amount I had at my lowest point. So much, in fact, that even as I'm sitting and doing nothing at all it oozes out of my fingertips.  'I've actually had to put Saran Wrap over my notebook keyboard to keep the computer dry and the motherboard from shorting out.

This has paid off in another way as my interest in browsing for Internet porn has increased by about 25 times these past few years.

Posts that people with pituitary tumors, low libido or low testosterone might find interesting:

A very long post that goes over my experience with my pituitary tumors. There are some links other sites and additional info. If you suspect you have a Testosterone problem you might want to read this. I really need to rework it.

My Blood Work History

Posted by delmer at 9:04 PM | Comments (4)

September 29, 2007

History Repeats

Lady Penelope recently left a comment in which she said that my August 23, 2006 post was likely the first one she read. It was my birthday entry and I was sort of curious about what I'd written then, so I looked it up.

And it wasn't bad. It was pleasant and friendly.

For fun I read the next day's post. In that post I mention that I'd gone to McDonald's and it was only after I was at work, and someone pointed it out to me, that I'd noticed my shirt was on inside out. 

I'd forgotten all about that though I doubt I'll ever forget about the June 2006 zipper-down incident at McDonald's.

And this brings us to this past Friday.

I went to McDonald's and ordered the usual. I talked to the gal behind the counter — the same one from the zipper incident. As it happens we chatted a bit more than we usually do.

I ate. I went to work.

On a trip out to the minivan to retrieve my phone I noticed I had a little too much Tom Jones working with the front of my shirt and decided to do up another button. And that's when I noticed they were on backwards. Which, of course, meant I had the shirt on inside out.

Again.

How about a random photo from my hard drive.  This is Samson, in the snow last winter.

Posted by delmer at 11:03 PM | Comments (1)

September 28, 2007

If this is your first time here ...

Today we'll address something I become concerned about every once in a while.

And that is "What do people see the first time they come here."

Could this dog love me
the way he obviously does if
I weren't mostly harmless?

Normally, I'm not bothered by this. I am what I am and that's all what I am; and that is mostly harmless.

Posted by delmer at 9:24 PM | Comments (9)

September 27, 2007

Buffer

All right folks. 

Firstly, in the interest of full disclosure, let me come out and say that this post's primary reason for existing is to provide a buffer from today's earlier post.

That post as so much potential and while it isn't the most uninspired thing I've ever written (that would have been a paper I turned in for a Philosophy class back in 1981) there's something about it that bothers me. 

Maybe it's the crack about William's missus having to detach her lower jaw to make something work.

Maybe it's because I couldn't figure out how to work buying dress slacks for a penis (and thereby increasing perceived girth) into the post.  Maybe it's because I chickened out and left out the bit where I tried to see if I could fit the water bottle bottom-first into my mouth (I couldn't.  It is way too big. And I have a big freakin' mouth.)

Maybe it's because I forgot the Kinsey disclaimer.  It would have said something like even though I've been able to recently find info on the web stating that Kinsey stated average penis length was 5.5 to 6.-something inches  back in 1948 I'd always heard his research as stating 6-something inches and that was the reference that was presented a couple of years ago when the new data came out.

Maybe it was the photos. They just looked bad. It's hard to capture a can of Sauerkraut in a way that makes it look good. 

Maybe it was because I struggled with "everybody's going to sleep on a wetspot,"  and variations and never got it the way I wanted and, so, left it out.

I also flip around between centimeters and inches a bit too much.

Anyway.

The second reason for this post is to mention that I had some blood drawn today and you know what this means! 

A Blood Work Analysis post will soon appear.

Posted by delmer at 10:38 AM | Comments (8)

DGP

The other day I received the following SPAM item:

Oh gosh. Where to start? Where to end?

Let's suppose you own a penis or you have a friend who will lend one to you as you need it.  In the old days that penis, when in fun mode, would likely have been about 6.16 inches long and would have had a girth of 4.84 inches (Kinsey, 1948). 

I say in the old days because a couple of years ago some new information was released.  In 1996 the Journal of Urology reported that the average erect length of a penis was 5.08 inches.  In 2000 the International Journal of Impotence Research concluded that the average size of an erect penis was 5.35 inches.

So, it's almost like we all got a raise in 1996. We were all, spiritually anyway, an inch bigger. I don't know if this was due to some sort of equipment recalibration or new math or what. I just know it was good for all of us and, generally speaking, good for America. Yes, I know, in 2000 we took a small step backwards but I'm pretty sure this had something to do with Bush taking office and I expect we'll retake those gains as soon as we put Hillary in The White House. (Maybe that should be part of her platform.)

But this entry is not about penis length. No. Not at all.

Today we're concerned with girth.

Girth is the distance around an object.  If you wear 34" jeans then your girth at your waist is 34".  Until of course you go to buy dress pants and you find you need something in a 36" or 38" waist. 

As stated above the average girth of a penis — yours or the one you've borrowed — is 4.8 inches (12.2 cm).

The girth of a toilet paper roll is 14 cm (5.5 inches or a bit girthier than the average penis). If you take that TP roll and make it a square along the sides (instead of round) each side is roughly  3.5 cm (1.38 inches). 

4 x 3.5 cm = 14 cm  (5.5 inches).  See how it works.

Alright. Your 12.2 cm (in girth) penis is about as big around as the top of a pill bottle (BTW, rarely do you want to push down and turn a penis). For some additional perspective, your first finger and middle finger are about 4 cm when they are side by side (that is, if you are me); you'll notice our pill bottle top is about 4 cm across. 

If you were to make your average 12.2 cm penis more square instead of round it would be 3.05 cm per side.

Oh, where could this be going?

Width is a measurement of something from side to side. In the above William from Talladega says the Amazing Dick Patch added an inch in width.

One inch is 2.54 cm.  Multiply this by 4 and you find William has increased his girth by 10.16 cm (4 inches).  If he was average before this pushes him to 22.38 cm or 8.8 inches.

Which makes him about as girthy as a 14-ounce can of Sauerkraut (Bavarian Style). 

If you put the whole package together you get something like this:

That is a 750 ml water bottle which is about the size of William's new penis. You'll see I went the extra mile and found a water bottle with a glans penis section (often called the door knob by urologists).

Honestly, I've no idea what makes women happy  — and I have a $5000.00 decree signed by a judge and witnessed by two attorneys as evidence of this —  but I've got to think, and I don't say this out of jealousy, something like this would be a little on the scary side for a woman.

For some additional perspective, the normal amount of ejaculate that a man provides during orgasm is 1.5 to 5 ml. William's new penis holds 750 ml.  Not that this will prove to be a concern for his Mrs. unless, of course, she's able to dislocate her lower jaw anaconda-like.

And think of the wet spot something like this could leave!

Posted by delmer at 12:01 AM | Comments (20)

September 26, 2007

My Kitchen Table

There's a meme going around in which people take a picture of their desk at work and identify whatever it is they've go laying on it.  I've decided to take that meme and apply it to my kitchen table.

[By the way, for my friends and family 'meme' rhymes which theme and scheme. For you guys that were at Smitty's bachelor party 22 years ago it rhymes with the second syllable of Nadine. (That reference, I know, will be lost to most of you but I can guarantee that right now one of my friends is slowly, almost drunkenly, saying, "Put your hands together for Na-deeeeen" in the raspiest, harshly feminine,  voice he can manage. I can almost see the brass pole.)]

So, this is my kitchen table. Or at least this was it before I cleaned it off.

Starting in the lower left-hand corner and working, more or less, clockwise we have:

My Williamsburg Cycling Jersey hanging off a chair.

Three cycling gloves. Like you, I think there should be four.

A plastic bag that I think has some paper trash in it.

Another plastic bag hanging off a chair. It is draped over a white plastic bag that says Spamalot on it (you can see the yellow S). A pair of jean shorts is on top of the bags. A pair of cycling shorts is on top of the jean shorts.

My backpack. My computer is probably in there. I use it when I bike to work.

Another plastic bag containing Spider-Man and Daredevil comics is in the farthest corner.

A pair of jeans is on another chair.  You can't tell from this photo but another pair of jeans shorts are under the blue jeans.

Things that are in various places on the table:

Homework, an iPaq, DLT tapes (on their way to my sock drawer), my phone, my wallet, my bike helmet, Salt and Pepper shakers (and these are the biggest puzzle to me as I don't season my food and can't for the life of me figure out where they came from), some pens and pencils, some change and a child's belt. 

Posted by delmer at 12:07 AM | Comments (3)

September 25, 2007

Happiness is Getting Your Bike Back

I just retrieved The Mighty Schwinn from the local bike shop. The tech re-laced the wheel (I would have said re-spoked. Or quite possibly even something else so I could avoid the confusion I experience when I have to put re or re- in front of a normal, everyday word.) and gave me 50% off parts and labor.

Some of you are undoubtedly thinking, "But wait, you bought a wheel that was a piece of crap. Why should you pay anything?"

Things like this don't bother me.  The tech at the store is a nice guy and I've had good experiences there before. He's given me free advice in the past (one thing he told me went a long way toward easing some butt pain I had) and I think he's genuinely trying to help me out. I don't think he tried to sell me a piece-of-crap wheel or that he felt he was pulling one over on me when he sold it to me.

I'm certain that if the guy at the bike shop owned a movie theater he'd always have someone out front taking tickets.  And you know how important that is to me.

I also picked up a bike pump while I was there. Mine broke the other day (how? there are so few moving parts) so I needed a new one.  Even though the bike guy told me he'd give me a price break I was a bit surprised to see I'd been charged $21.50 for a $35.00 pump. I thought he'd said 10%.  A quick look at my sales ticket showed that he'd written $31.50; the clerk at the front of the store misread it.

Fortunately there was no line (of course, I didn't expect one) when I went back in to make up the difference.

(For the bean counters out there, getting the wheel re-spoked probably pushed the cost of the thing to what a better wheel would have cost in the first place.)

Posted by delmer at 3:42 PM | Comments (2)

September 24, 2007

The Trip Out West Part XXV: We Roll into Stanton

If you are just coming in to the story, and you want to read all the good stuff about my stint in jail, you should really start at The Beginning.

When we last left off (way back in mid-June) Tom and I had tried out, unsuccessfully, for The Joker's Wild.

Well, you can't win them all.

Our next stop was Stanton, California, not too far from Disneyland. 

Tom and I were going to stay with a cousin of my mother's. A person I'd never met and who my mother had not seen in years. And yet they were happy to have us stay with them. Everybody should have relatives like I do.

We arrived in Stanton most likely in the midafternoon.  I remember we were in our host's house before the local school let out. I also remember that just a few minutes after we stepped through the front door (in a house in a nice, residential neighborhood) we heard what could only be described as gunshots. A single shot and then several in a row that came pretty close together.

I don't remember if we actually saw the police running around outside across the street or if I'm combining memories. (I remember a friend of mine, he comments here as Buckeyedoc, telling me once that SWAT had been running around in his backyard when he was a student as The Ohio State University. Maybe it wasn't Buckeyedoc that said that, but Ming. In any case I may be adding SWAT running through their backyard to the Stanton memory.)

Anyway, I asked  Tom, "What do you think that is?"   To which he replied, "A drug deal gone bad."

It wasn't long before our hosts came home from their jobs. As it happens, Tom and I would not be staying in their home with them, but in their giant fifth-wheel camper out front; they thought it would give us more privacy and freedom.

It was really, really sweet.  

Posted by delmer at 9:28 PM | Comments (4)

September 23, 2007

A Single Guy's Sunday

As you know I am a single guy. 

Every other week I am a single guy with three boys.  Today I'm in one of my non-child weeks which means I'm able to do anything I darn well please (you know, after I deal with the incredible sadness I feel from being alone).

And what have I done? What does a single guy in the midst of a midlife crisis do when he's left on his own?  If you're a guy and you're not sitting down I suggest you do so; it will help you deal with the jealousy better.

Today I woke up at 8 a.m. and hopped on the scale. It's one of the few times I've weighed myself since I've returned from vacation and I weighed what I wanted. So that's a good start.

I then walked over to Mel's Diner for some breakfast.

This isn't what I ate. That's a picture of the Fish & Chips I had at Otie's on Friday night. In the back you'll see the Guinness I was drinking and to the right of that you'll notice what's left of one of many Diet Cokes I had.  At Mel's this morning I had a three-egg omelet, a dry English muffin and a pancake instead of home fries.

After breakfast I got out my collection of Star Trek Enterprise action figures and repainted several of them. Well, not several of them; just T'Pol.  And really I don't own anything like that, it's just that I piddled around for a couple of hours and that sounds unproductive. (I wonder if Jolene Blaylock ever said, "Man, this is tight," when she was putting on her Star Trek outfit.)

Haydn had a football game at noon so I shot off to Bishop Ready to watch (child-freeness is overrated). It was a beautiful, sunny, not-too-hot day perfect for outdoors-sports watching. Haydn's team won and he seemed to have plenty of game time.  I had a couple of hot dogs as I watched the game.

There are two football photos on this page. One is of Haydn in his stance and the other is of him standing at the huddle (he's the big one to the far right). I don't have the best camera for distance shots which is why you're getting a huge shot of food I ate Friday and small photos of my son playing football.

After the game Haydn and I took The Mighty Schwinn to the local bike shop and dropped it off. I'll give them a call tomorrow though I'm sure the bike guy will recognize it when he sees it and he'll know what we're going to do (order a new wheel).

Then I went grocery shopping. I picked up a bunch of fruits and vegetables, some chicken, yada yada yada.

I then returned to Blockbuster an X-Box game the boys had rented.

Back home I worked out and then I went for a four-mile stroll. I listened to a Wait Wait Don't Tell Me podcast (and some Ted Nugent… um, and some Celine Dion) as I strolled.  I snacked on some shrimp while I walked.

About 8 p.m. I started catching up on thing's I'd TiVo'd.  Mostly Star Trek Enterprise episodes, but also some 8 Simple Rules and a Graham Norton.

I boiled some chicken gizzards (hearts too).

I started writing this just a little bit ago. As I sit here typing I'm eating gizzards right out of the pan I boiled them in.  I'm also drinking a St. Pauli Girl.

That's it.

Read it and weep.

(BTW, I made up the Celine Dion bit.)

Posted by delmer at 11:54 PM | Comments (11)

Happy Birthday Bruce

Today is Bruce Springsteen's birthday.  He's 50-something (I'm a fan, not a stalker).

Dust off your copy of Born to Run, crank up a little bit of Thunder Road, and as you sit there and listen to it I want you to take a long, hard look at yourself and question how it is you ever let dust collect on something so perfect. (If the look you take is going to be too long you might want to cue up Jungleland.)

If the answer to the question is because you've ripped the album to your MP3 player go ahead and give yourself a little reward. I'd suggest an hour in a lounge chair as you work your way through The River.

Posted by delmer at 10:17 AM | Comments (7)

September 22, 2007

Fourth time's a charm

I climbed aboard the Mighty Schwinn a short while ago and took it out for the first ride since I had the most recent broken spoke replaced. My thought yesterday was that I'd put 50 miles on it today. I modified that thought when it occurred to me that I've been breaking spokes lately and that I lacked the type of rear-wheel confidence a person needs for longer rides.

So, I opted for a 15-miler instead. Which I shortened to 12 when at 8.5 I broke a spoke.

I know, without a doubt, when it happened. I was approaching a light I knew was about to change to green and I wanted to be close enough to it when it changed to make it through (I obey the traffic laws when I bike). When I bore down on my right pedal to accelerate I heard the tinking noise that suggested something had broken; a glance down at the now-wobbly rear tire verified it was a spoke.

This is four spokes on the new rear wheel and I've been breaking a spoke almost each time I go out for a spin.

I'd thought the breaking of the spokes had something to do with my body weight (I'm 233 pounds) though the old wheel never had trouble with my weight and I weighed more than I do now for a lot of the time I rode around on that one.

The last time I picked the bike up from the shop the tech suggested that taller guys might break more spokes than the less tall. I wasn't sure what he was getting at even when he mentioned torque and I thought he was just trying to be polite and unwilling to say "well, you weigh a lot."

This last week one of the engineers at work said something about spokes breaking that shed some light on this and made some sense. It isn't the weight pushing down on the tire that causes spokes to break it's the force applied to the spokes by the the rear gears (and, therefore, the chain and the crank.)

While I'd like to think I have super powerful manly-man legs and that I'm capable of chirping The Mighty Schwinn's rear tire in all 12 gears I'm more inclined to believe the new wheel was assembled with crappy spokes.

In any case, it looks like I'll be guying a new rear wheel.

[By the way, the engineer at work said something that made a lot of sense. If I've explained it in a way that sounds sort of stupid, well, the stupidity is all mine.]

Posted by delmer at 8:38 PM | Comments (4)

September 21, 2007

Final Observations: III

There  are some things that caught my eye, were pointed out to me, or that I noticed and think are true (but may not hold up under close scrutiny), while I was in England. 

This was, originally, one very long entry. Now it's three. Today:

Things that I noticed on my own:

Motorcyclists wear leathers and helmets. Most of them anyway. I believe I saw but one person on a motorcycle who wasn't wearing appropriate safety gear. It's worth noting, as well, that motorcyclist don't always feel inclined to follow the rules of the road and aren't above scootching around cars as space permits. I'm not just talking about lane splitting, and I don't know if it's legal in England or not, but other things like sneaking around a car at a light. British drivers didn't seem to mind.

Bicyclists don't seem to wear helmets. I saw more guys on bikes in London than I expected, and other bikes elsewhere, and I'm not sure anybody was wearing a helmet.

There aren't all that many insects. When we first arrived at Lady Penelope's she opened the back door.  I stuck my head outside to pull the screen door shut only to find there wasn't one. None of the windows had screens either. This held true when we went to London to visit her folks and to the country to visit her sister.  The doors were always open, there were never any screens, and there were hardly ever any bugs. I did see a couple of flys while I was there and the last night I caught and released a couple of moths. Generally speaking, however, there were just no insects.  No flys, none of those little white bugs that fly around light bulbs, just a few moths.  I have more flys in my home and I have screens in every window.

The Brits often drink beer cold. Or at least their version of cold. I'll bet I could have gotten a really cold beer had I been at the right place at the right time. One night I had something (Old Peculiar) that Lady P said is typically consumed at room temperature.

The whole accent thing is fake. And put on for tourists to bring in more tourism dollars.  I overheard a group of guys talking — sounding just like me — around the corner from where I was. When I turned the corner and they saw my I *heart* Dubya T-shirt they got all cockney on me. This happened more than once and I eventually got pretty good at sneaking up on people. Once, at the Home Base (like a Home Depot) I overheard on of the employees say to a coworker, "Hey, Gary. Can you cover this register for me? I need to go to the bathroom."  When he saw me he got a startled look on his face, developed an accent and said, "Uh, I mean… I say Nigel, could you watch my station for me? I need to go to the loo."

My superpower works across the Atlantic. My super power is that I never have to wait in line (or wait in line too terribly long). This doesn't sound all that impressive until you add to it that just moments after I take my place in line it will grow to many times its original length and often extends out the door. There were several times in England that I'd get in line one or two people back and then turn around to find a dozen or so people behind me. (It's handier than it sounds and even works at the Department of Motor Vehicles and Post Offices.)

British toilets can't be flushed until the tank fills. There's no way to do a partial flush and I think this might lead to fewer clogs.  The water in home toilets, at least the five or six I had the opportunity to check out, doesn't come up as far as the water does in our toilets — it stays in the very bottom all puddle like. For a man this means less splashup on his legs if he's standing before it in shorts.  I don't know what women get out of the arrangement.  Due to the fact the water is so low it does lead to skid marks on the side of the bowl in instances of a high-fiber number two; the flushing doesn't always produce enough water to take care of this.

In McDonald's and the mall (and therefore, I'm thinking a lot of public toilets) the men's urinal is more funnel shaped so that a guy is peeing down and not so much forward. Again, splashing is reduced to nothing.

One bathroom I was in, at the mall, had a trough in it that reminded me of a college bar I used to go to. There were little little bullseyes on the back of the trough that made me think Target had sponsored the toilet until I realized what an odd idea that was.

You can still get milk delivered.  I remember seeing metal boxes outside doors when I was younger that were for the milk man. Lady P didn't have the metal box, but she did get milk delivered (as well as groceries from Tesco… I'd pay for this,, why doesn't it work here) a couple times a week.

I'm sure there were other things I'd notice that I've forgotten.  I'll pass those along as they occur to me.

Posted by delmer at 10:45 PM | Comments (1)

September 20, 2007

Some Final Observations: II

There  are some things that caught my eye, were pointed out to me, or that I noticed and think are true (but may not hold up under close scrutiny), while I was in England. 

This was, originally, one very long entry. Now it's three. Today:

Things that were pointed out to me:

Gas is expensive. [UPDATED]  This is something I would have noticed on my own but what was pointed out to me is that the British are tired of hearing us complain about just how high our gas prices are. It's about $4.00 a gallon in the UK and has been for a long while.  (What the Brits don't tell you is that all their gas stations are old, converted castles and being able to pump gas out of one of these babies is worth a buck a gallon any day of the week.)  You know, I thought that sounded too cheap. I fell into two traps here; the first was a rounding error and the second was a conversion error. I rounded .96 per liter up to 1.00 per liter and then I converted .96 to cents forgetting it started out as pence. So, I had a buck a liter or $4.00 when it should have been a pound a liter.  Gasoline is $7.70 a gallon (roughly).  The joke about the castles stands. (My thanks to Lady Penelope for correcting this.)

The driver to the right of you as you enter a rotary has the right of way.  I didn't realize there were any rotary rules as we take a free-for-all approach here. Having said that, the rotaries that I encountered in England were a lot busier than the two I run across in Hilliard on a regular basis.

 

Even this rotary, which is nothing more than a dot painted in the middle of an oddly-shaped intersection of roads, is no challenge for the British driver. We would mark such an intersection with a sign that said, "Traffic Accident Ahead."

There are no billboards along any of the interstate-type roads.  And yet the British seem to know what to buy, where to stop for lodging, and where to get their adult sex toys without these obtrusive, gentle, reminders [You have to be familiar with the Lion's Den billboard to appreciate that last remark. Clink the link now to see their 20%-off Back to School special (I'm not kidding)].  As you drive along you get an unobstructed view of the English countryside.

The only in-your-face outside advertising I recall seeing was Piccadilly Circus in London and it had sort of a Times Square thing going for it (and absolutely nothing in the way of circus going for it. No three rings. No Animals. No trapeze artists. No Monty Pythons).

No tipping in Pubs, though you do tip in restaurants.

Tax is already added into prices. At least on the clothing I bought.

The national lottery is tax free.  I won 10 pounds and was pretty sure it was going to be tax free as I wasn't in the mood to do any paperwork.  I found out later that had I won one million pounds it would have been tax free as well.  (If only I'd known ahead of time I'd have tried harder.)

Posted by delmer at 9:20 PM | Comments (3)

The Magic, Black Smoke

As you probably know just about everything electronic works the way it does due to the containment of magic, black smoke.  You've likely noticed that days and days and days and months and years will pass in which you'll be able to use something electronic and then one day you'll turn it on, a puff of smoke will come out, and it no longer works.  Whatever it was that was in charge of containing the magic black smoke within your electronic gizmo has failed, the black smoke has escaped, and the gizmo is likely useless to you now.  (This normally happens when you need it most.)

Toasters (and toaster ovens) may be the exception here though it should be noted that magic black smoke often has an acrid smell while toaster black smoke often smells like burnt bread.

When I was in England I got a call from a coworker who was trying to troubleshoot something at work.  During the course of the conversation he said, "Smoke is coming out of the monitor."  This is hardly ever good as even really good girl-on-girl porn is rarely able to make smoke come out of a monitor.  I was familiar with the monitor in question — it was on its last legs which was why I had it (IT gets all the crap) though I couldn't believe my bad luck that it had slipped into total failure catch on fire mode while I was on vacation.  As it happened it just smoked enough to distort the display (I've since replaced the monitor with a piece-of-crap LCD that had been discarded due to its funky display properties.).

This morning I took an external USB drive enclosure and plugged my backup drive into it. I put power to it and noticed the little power LED hadn't lit up.  I picked the unit up in my hand and it looked like there might be magic black smoke coming out of the bottom of it.  Well, actually magic gray smoke which is what made the problem so hard to diagnose; the enclosure is gray and I wasn't sure if the wispy looking stuff was smoke or a reflection of something off the bottom of the enclosure.

Aside from the burnt bread  example above, hustling to undo whatever it is that caused the smoke release really never helps.  That is, removing power from the enclosure wasn't likely to save anything enclosure-wise, however it might have kept the problem from spreading to the notebook computer everything was plugged into. And the point is… I knew I was screwed, but I unhooked everything in pretty short order.

The sniff test has verified that item I burned up is the external enclosure and (probably not also) the drive.

Rats.

Posted by delmer at 7:36 AM | Comments (4)

September 19, 2007

I don't know what about this upset me

There are times, admittedly, when the smallest things bother me and even I can't figure out just what went wrong.

Yesterday I shot out of work a bit early to pick the boys up so we could go see Balls of Fury.  I thought we'd go to Westpointe but at the last minute decided on another theater. 

[I should point out that I have over 100 screens available within 9.5 miles of where I live.]

We arrived at 4:45 for a 4:50 showing and spent the next five minutes looking for someone to sell us tickets.  The theater was empty except for a customer in the bar area (which sort of tips of the fact that this was Movie Tavern) and a kid on his cell phone.

I gave out a few "hellos" with no response.  I went up the ramp to where the theaters are and looked down the hallway in either direction.  The kid that had been on his cell phone was in the hall area and I saw him go through a door that must have led to a projection room.

The boys and I meandered around a minute or two more. I talked with the customer at the bar and jokingly said "movies must be free today."

I went up the ramp again as the kid who had been on his cell was coming out the door he'd previously gone in.

"I'm looking for someone to sell me tickets," I said politely. "Can you do that?"

"I'm off the clock," he said, equally as polite.

"What if I try to go back and see the a movie without paying?" I said with some humor in my voice.

"I guess I'd have to stop you," he replied, and he seemed to be a bit uncomfortable.

"But you're off the clock. Why would you care?"  And I was still just joking around.

(I was never going to sneak back and see a movie. I couldn't, I wouldn't feel good about it. )

I went down the ramp. There was still no one there to sell me tickets and I'd been there at least five minutes. The bar area is cavernous and it just made place seem all the more empty.

And something snapped.  It had been at least five minutes. Common sense suggests that someone would show up any second. But, my movie was starting and for all I knew it would be 15 minutes before anybody came out from wherever they were.

I knew I could be at Westpointe before then and I knew Balls of Fury was starting at 4:55 there.  With previews we might make it without missing anything.  I was fairly certain someone would be available to take my money.

We missed about two minutes.  We saved about $30 when you count the savings of ticket prices and the fact we didn't have the opportunity to have salads, wings and pizza.

I don't know what about the experience irritated me.  The parking lot was almost empty when the boys and I arrived so it makes sense the staff would be light (devoid of staff doesn't make as much sense).  Maybe the lack of staff bothered me as the movie was about to start and there should have been someone available to sell tickets at least up until the movie started.

Who knows?  Maybe I'm just a jackass.

Posted by delmer at 7:01 AM | Comments (5)

September 18, 2007

Another Broken Spoke and a Near Miss

[My blog publishing tool has crashed again and taken with it several already-composed entries. I was aware that it might crash (it sometimes does when I have things saved) and had archived one or two things. This is one of those archived items.  I'll rewrite the Final Observations bits and post them tomorrow and the next day.  (I'd forgotten to archive the Final Observation II and III posts. IT people should really know better.)]

I've broken another spoke on the rear wheel of The Mighty Schwinn. The original wheel was about 20 years old (I may have been wrong when I said 21 years the other day) and as far as I know the only spoke that ever broke is the one I blogged about July 9. That wheel had almost 2800 miles on it just the past two years. 

Following the new wheel purchase I had the boys for an extended period of time and didn't get to ride as much as I wanted.  I also missed the better part of three weeks when I was on vacation.  The point is that the new wheel has very few miles on it.  I had two spokes replaced the 10th and I had another replaced the 14th (at no charge). 

It's very expensive to buy a new wheel one spoke at a time and I can't help but think that somewhere there's a wheel-design engineer with a plaque above his desk that says, "give them rims; sell them spokes."

Maybe I should get one of those Fred Flintstone solid-rock wheels.  They looked sturdy.

Wednesday, September 13, I was pedaling up Davidson Road when the DHL Man tried to hit me.

Davidson is one of those very wide roads that seem to be pretty common around me.  There's a nice, wide eastbound lane, a nice wide westbound lane, and a turn lane in the middle. I think you could easily (easily!) put 5 cars side by side on Davidson.  Maybe 6.  A thousand Smart Cars.

At just about the midpoint between Avery and Dublin Roads there is an overpass and the road narrows here for as long as it takes to drive over I-270. It isn't that great a distance.

I started up the hill, with the sun behind me, doing 24 mph.  I'd probably slowed to 19 mph at the top.  And this is where the DHL man blew by me in one of those big delivery trucks (at about 6:20 p.m.).  He was so close I could have hit him with the side of my fist without having to take my left arm much past 90 degrees.  He had to be doing 35 or 40 mph. (He easily pulled away from me coming down the hill and I was doing 30 then.)

I think he was lost and trying to make up time as I saw him signal left not far past Trueman Blvd., enter the turn lane and then change his mind.  I finally caught up to him at Vicksburg Lane where he'd turned left into the subdivision..  I got his truck number and started composing my letter to DHL as I continued my ride.

I eventually decided the guy is just trying to make a living, probably has a family to take care of, and that I really didn't want to cause him any trouble. 

Still, I have a family and getting killed isn't going to do them any good.  Even if it means somebody gets a package 20-seconds earlier..

An hour later, as I rode past the road I work on and I came across the DHL guy again.  He might be the guy who delivers to our building.

When all was said and done the DHL guy zipping by me too close didn't startle me as much as hoodlums yelling at me does (it was still uncalled for). Or spiders lunging at me in a sink.

Posted by delmer at 7:00 AM | Comments (4)

September 17, 2007

A Break From the Action

I know we're in the middle of something here but I wanted to take a minute and mention my back.  Friday morning I woke up, went downstairs, and sat in the recliner long enough to turn on the TV and decide I really didn't have time to watch anything.  As I got up out of the recliner I felt my back develop a small pull.   I laid down on the floor, did some stretching exercises, then got dressed and went to work.

The last time I tweaked my back was getting out of my chair at work.  The time before that I was tying my shoes (I leaned forward to tie a shoe, leaned back just far enough to change shoes, then leaned forward again. The leaning back to change shoes is what got me. That is the worse I've ever done my back.)

I'm convinced I could get hit my a truck, bounce across the pavement and come out without any back issues. So long as I didn't lean forward to pick up any teeth that might have been knocked out of my head during the accident.

Anyway, at one point on Friday I needed to get out of my chair and the pain was excruciating. I had to ease to the floor, crawl to where I was sure nobody could see me, stretch and then get up.  I did this twice before I decided I could go home and sit on the floor and work. 

One of the odd things about the back is that it hurts so much  when it hurts (trying to get out of a chair) that it's sort of amazing that it doesn't hurt at all a few minutes later. After I got up and moving around I was fine.

Saturday the back was 90% better, though I spent all of Jack's soccer game standing. Just in case.

Sunday I was even better. Today I seem fine.

Why blog about this?  Well, up until a few years ago anytime I'd tweak the back it would ache for a week.  Each time I'd get up out of a chair I'd have to get 10 or 15 steps under my belt before I could walk upright.  Several years ago my friend, Joe, told me about some stretching exercises his doctor gave him and now, anytime I tweak my back, I do some of those right away and then do them every couple of hours.  I don't know if it's the exercises or something else, but since I've been doing them my recovery has been much better.

I do stretches 1, 2, and 4 listed here.  Where the person says "bands" they mean hands in stretch 1. 

Why didn't I tell you about this Friday?  Well, I know that when I hurt, you hurt and I didn't want to mess up your weekend.  Also, my mother needs a break and I thought if she read about my back she'd go into oatmeal-cookie-baking overdrive and feel the need to come up and do my laundry.

Posted by delmer at 8:34 AM | Comments (9)

September 16, 2007

Some Final Observations: I

There  are some things that caught my eye, were pointed out to me, or that I noticed and think are true (but may not hold up under close scrutiny), while I was in England. 

This was, originally, one very long entry. Now it's three. Today:

Things that may not hold up under closer scrutiny:

Their Salt & Vinegar potato chips have balsamic vinegar listed as an ingredient. Ours don't -- we have some sort of chemical thing that provides our vinegar flavor. You know, I've checked on this since I've been home and it may be a powder.  What I do know is that before I Ieft for the UK a coworker pointed out that the vinegar in our chips was not actual vinegar. (BTW, I'm pretty sure that when you see Blueberry Bits listed as an ingredient in something that they aren't actual bits of blueberries; Blueberry bits, I think, are a man-made product.)

The Pepsi and Coke in England contain sugar, not high fructose corn syrup.  Also, when Lady P asked me to get her a Coke she asked for a full-fat  Coke, which I thought she was doing to make fun of the fact I always drank Diet Coke.  Toward the end of the trip I ordered "A Coke" in one of the Pubs and the bar gal asked if I wanted "Full fat, or diet."  So, that may be how they say it.

(For what it's worth, neither regular Coke nor Diet Coke (the Pepsis, etc.) contain any fat here.  Since sugar has zero grams of fat it's my guess that the pop in the UK is fat-free as well.  Those Brits… they're a nutty bunch.)

People walk like they drive: As we strolled around London I kept almost running into people until I shifted to letting them pass to my right as we approached each other. This may have held true in the mall also.

A spirit walks the streets of London. As I was using Irfanview to look over my pictures in rapid-slideshow fashion I came across the following three.

Notice the woman.

Notice the truck.

Notice the woman is gone and everything else is the same. At first glance anyway. Sort of. The bus ruins the effect but it was pretty cool the first time I saw it.

Posted by delmer at 11:10 AM | Comments (4)

September 15, 2007

The Answer

I'd like to thank everybody who played along in yesterday's game in which I asked you to guess which English city, county, hamlet, village, burg — one I've mentioned in a recent previous entry — the following picture brings to mind.

Jack gets spiritual points for Kent, as the photo was taken in Kent. He may have recognized the fern in the background that is known, among botany enthusiasts, to thrive in only Kent county, UK. Or, he may have used his knowledge of Lady P's sister living in Kent to his advantage. Kent, however, is not what I was looking for.

My compliments to Dave for his Yorkshire entry.  Monty, the alpha dog in the photo, looks like me might have some Yorkshire Terrier in him. Yorkshire, again, isn't where I was going.

Buckeye Doc had me worried for a bit with his Penny Lane entry.  He's known me for 30 years and should know how my mind works better than most readers. His wife has known me for almost the same amount of time so, between them, they have almost 60 years of knowing me between them.  His later Peterborough entry bought him some WADLL Street Cred. Even though it was still wrong. [Edit: Buckeye Doc has received a Street Cred boost in the comments section of this entry.]

Mike O's Big Bone Lick was way off; he knew it and stated as much. His entry is appreciated as it proves to the rest of the world that Americans are able to come up with names just as eye catching as the one the above picture reminds me most of.

I was looking for Bagshot:

 

Posted by delmer at 12:02 AM | Comments (5)

September 14, 2007

Another Game

This one assumes you've been reading about and keeping up with my recent vacation in England.  (Feel free to take a minute and go back a few entries if you need to catch up.)

During my stay there I visited several villages, cities and counties and I made references to a few others. 

The Game:

Below you'll see a picture.  Based on the content in the photo it represents one of the villages, cities, hamlets, counties or booming metropolises I visited or made reference to.  Your job is to guess which one.  There will be no prize awarded past the satisfaction you get from getting the answer correct. (Hopefully that satisfaction will be enough to offset the dismay you feel as you wonder why you stop by here day after day.) I'll provide the answer tomorrow.

 

  

Posted by delmer at 12:22 AM | Comments (10)

September 13, 2007

Ten Things

Today folks, What's a Delmer Look Like is featuring a guest blogger.  Lady Penelope, of Being a British Citizen and Host During My Vacation Fame, has put together a list of 10 things she learned about me during my stay in England.  I promised I wouldn't change or add anything to the list.  You can read my comments in the comments section of the entry.

10 Things I learnt about Delmer by Lady Penelope

1. He is seriously scared of spiders, even dead ones!

Staying in The Boonies Delmer noticed a (dead) spider in my sister’s kitchen sink.  As he ran the tap (faucet) the water caused the spider to move and he jumped backwards, squealing like a girl!  We all teased him about that one for days!  He did point out that he squealed like a *big* girl though.

2. He can juggle

I think the juggling involved 3 lemons.  My children were very impressed.  He passed up the opportunity to demonstrate using a bowling ball, an egg and a chainsaw.

3. He can spin a basketball on the tip of his finger

Once again he impressed the children greatly.  On the day that we shopped for sports gear they found a ball for sale and insisted he demonstrated again right there in the store.  As basketball isn’t the big deal over here that it is in the States they ooooh’d and ahhhhh’d to the extent that Delmer felt he should buy the ball for them just to shut them up!  He very patiently taught them how to do it and we still have all the windows in tact…for now.

4. He can iron…and iron well!

In my experience there are not too many men who can do this, or at least not do it very well.  Not only can Delmer iron well, but he insists on his clothes being crease-free at all times.  I never iron if I can avoid it so this was a bit of a novelty, to say the least.

5. He does not believe anything I tell him!

Delmer needs to verify almost everything I tell him so that our conversations generally go like this:
Delmer:  Not that I don’t 100% trust you, BUT, I did just check this out to see for myself…
Me:  Well I did tell you!!
Delmer:  Like I said…I do believe you…now that I have checked the facts out…
(I am cracking up typing that one)

6. He has the driest wit of anyone I have ever met

We all know Delmer is hilariously funny, but hearing stories told straight from the horse’s mouth (umm, so to speak), you appreciate them even more.  He tells them in such a dead-pan manner that I cannot understand how he doesn’t crack himself up as everyone around him is crying with laughter.  His humour is extremely English in that respect, dry and self-deprecating.  He was a big hit here, not just with people I introduced him to, but bar staff, waitresses, store staff, even the supermarket delivery guy!  It seems a Delmer can charm the birds out of the trees! 

7. He snores like a train!

On our trip to The Boonies Delmer fell asleep in the car, head back, mouth wide open, and snored so loudly that we had to turn up the CD player!  The children, sitting in the back of the car, thought it was hilarious and couldn’t stop laughing!

8. He needs to eat and drink almost constantly

If Delmer is not eating he is drinking (water, diet coke, or the occasional beer…) and he seems to need feeding every couple of hours or so.  Think “Little Shop of Horrors”.  I do not know how he stays in such great shape, but then he is a tad taller than your average person.

9. Lucky Pennies and Super Powers

If we were walking anywhere and Delmer saw a penny on the ground he would pick it up and put it in his shoe.  How he can even see the ground from that great height, I do not know.  They did perhaps bring him luck though.  He has often mentioned his Incredible Line Avoidance Super Power, (and I did bear witness to this on several occasions), but his other super power is that he can control the weather!  After the worst summer on record in England, on the day that Delmer arrived the temperatures suddenly soared, the rain stopped, and it stayed that way right up until the day he left – incredible!

10. A Delmer is a gentleman.  (He will hate this)

This may not come as a surprise to anyone who has met, or spent time with Delmer, and it didn’t to me, but I wanted to just say a few nice things, seeing as I have teased mercilessly in the above statements.  Delmer hates compliments and will always do his utmost to change the subject, so I know that he will squirm reading this section.  He really is a true gentleman, in every respect.  He opens doors, carries bags, refills wine glasses (very important!), brings wonderful gifts on visits, helps around the house (and garden) and is indeed a delight to be around.  (That was a Delmerism I slipped in to see if anyone noticed!)  You could not meet a kinder, funnier, more generous soul if you tried.  It’s my absolute pleasure to call him my friend.

Posted by delmer at 12:29 AM | Comments (10)

September 12, 2007

The Game

Folks, today we're going to play a game.

I want you to think of a food that causes constipation. 

There, you've already thought of it. Now hold on to it.  Hold on to it like you do a big you-know-what after you've eaten a big bunch of whatever it is that you just thought of.

If you like, leave a comment about the food you've thought of before reading any further (and if you do please provide your nationality).

Why are we doing this?

Well, not long ago I was speaking to someone about a… wait, there's no way to make this sound even the least bit intelligent.

Anyway, the topic came up in conversation once and I then brought it up in several conversations after that. If you ask an American, based on the small sample (please, no stool  jokes) of surveys I've taken, most of them will say "cheese."  Especially if someone is close by with a camera.

British people, and again I haven't met them all, are likely to say "eggs," and one person was able to provide further validation for his point by matter-of-factly saying, "Oh yea. Egg-bound."

The thought that cheese might cause constipation was such a foreign idea to a couple of Brits that they argued against it. Much as I did regarding eggs.  (We were all ambivalent when it came to bananas.  One Brit said Imodium but I thought that was cheating.)

I think the British eat a lot more omelets than we do. Omelets, if prepared well, are full of cheese and I wonder if the wrong food is being blamed for gastrointestinal distress in the UK.

If you Google constipation you're going to come up with a lot of oddball hits so don't bother. 

However, this following bit seems to lend credence to both cheese and eggs as bowel-binders.

The only problem with that tidbit is that it comes from Home Health UK and I think they might have an egg-binding prejudice.

A second source, About.com says to cut back on dairy foods such as cheese, and eggs  to avoid constipation.

I think cheese hits me harder than eggs do.  I had half a dozen eggs over the course of the weekend and if we go any longer with this topic it will turn even more into one of those postings that I always worry will be the posting a person sees when they come here  for the first time.

So…  I'm going to apply a big three-egg cheese omelet to this entry and stop it dead in its tracks. I'll throw in a banana for dessert.

Posted by delmer at 11:52 AM | Comments (13)

September 11, 2007

September 11

Angela has asked that we write a bit about what we remember from 9/11.

When the first plane hit the tower I was on hold waiting for tech support to pick up.  I don't remember the company I was getting support from, but I do remember that an American eventually answered so it could have been HP.

One of the engineers walked by while I was on hold and mentioned that a plane had just crashed into the WTC.  I didn't think much of it. I figured it was probably a Cessna and that damage would have been light. I remember telling the tech about the plane crash as we talked and I brought him up to speed on whatever issue it was I had.

Naturally, the problem was a lot worse.

As it happens a friend of mine (my oldest's godfather) was on his way to a meeting in NYC.  He'd gotten to the meeting site and nobody was there as it had been moved to the World Trade Center.  He was racing across town in a cab to make the meeting when the first plane hit.  Everybody who knew of the meeting-place change ahead of time died.

Posted by delmer at 11:22 AM | Comments (2)

September 10, 2007

Shirts

"Dad, you know that shirt of mine you sometimes wear? There's a dance at school tonight and I can't find it. Is there any chance you have it with you in England."  It was Haydn and he'd called me on my cell phone. And I was in England.

I told Haydn that I didn't recall wearing any of his shirts.  Our arms are of different lengths and the shirts I'd seen him wear were all long sleeved. I could never wear them.

Fortunately, Haydn's call had come in pretty early that Friday evening as later that Friday night this was going on.

And, speaking of Friday night… take a look at that shirt.  It may have been the only multi-colored shirt I packed for my trip.  When Lady Penelope commented that it seemed rather bold for a person who is as uptight as I often am I explained that it had probably been on sale. (I get a lot of my shirts from the sale rack at Target. As it happens, many of them are single-color shirts.)

Anyway.  Time passed.

Last night I had to take something to Haydn at football practice, the above shirt had come up again in rotation and I was wearing it.

"That's my shirt," said Haydn when he saw me. "The one I was looking for."

"Oooh. Sorry," I said. "It was in England with me".

"That's OK," he replied. "There's a dance this Friday though. Will it be clean by then?"

It will be.

Posted by delmer at 6:08 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

September 9, 2007

Duck Duck Goose

You know how sometimes when you go on vacation and you leave a pet behind (well cared for at a kennel or with a neighbor)  and when you retrieve him he engages in behaviors that piss you off seemingly as a way to teach you a lesson for abandoning him?

The Mighty Schwinn seems to have done the same thing to me.  I pulled it out of the garage today and noticed it had a funny roll to it. Close examination revealed one of the back spokes was broken and that the tire needed truing.

The only other spoke I know I've had replaced was the one from last month. That spoke was 21-years old and it made sense that it snapped… I'm pretty sure I blew out my knee about the time I was 21. Things happen when you hit that age.

That 21-year old wheel was replaced with a new wheel and new spokes and one of those spokes has already snapped. It can only mean that The Mighty Schwinn didn't appreciate the sitting-around time it had to put up with while I vacationed.

It had been my intention to put 20 or 30 miles on the bike and I probably shouldn't have gone anywhere after I noticed the spoke. I was having a bad case of The Blobs, however, and hit the road for 14.

And this was good. For it gave me a chance to play the game I sometimes play with drivers.

I'm not sure what the game is called, and I never know when we're going to play it, but it goes like this.  I'll be pedaling along, minding my own business, and someone will drive by and yell something unintelligible at me. It's normally high school boys and I think they do it to see if they can startle me so they can then drive off giggling like little girls and telling each other just how cool they are.  Following the yelling it is up to me to determine whether or not I should chase them down. I guess the whole thing is sort of like a wheeled version of Duck Duck Goose. 

And so, I was pedaling up the hill on Fishinger Blvd. when a faded gray Caddy went by and the driver leaned across his passenger and yelled at me. The driver had a wild tangle of dark hair and there was a third guy in the backseat. Despite the fact the car had gone by me in the left-hand lane, leaving me the right-hand lane all to myself, I didn't care for it. 

I had been startled and I could almost hear their girlish giggles of the guys as they drove off.

They were slowed by the light at Smiley which had turned green by the time I got to it.  As I pulled into the road adjacent to the Mill Run Shopping Center they pulled into the parking lot for Mill Run.  I swung into the parking lot and kept my eye on them as they made their way toward one of the banks.  And this is where we met.

The driver, a high-schoolish looking guy with wild, dark hair, had a surprised look on his face when he saw me.

"Was that you that yelled at me back there," I demanded.

He shook his head at me.

"You didn't shout at me? None of you yelled?"

Three heads shook and the passenger shrunk away from me and leaned more on his door.

So far this year the score for the game is tied 2-2.  I've had four idiots yell at me or make hand gestures and I've tried to catch three of them. I've caught two.  Wait, maybe the score is then 2 (caught) to 1 (got away) which puts me in the lead.

Anyway, chasing people down may not be the smartest thing to do. I like to think it will teach the idiots a lesson but maybe the lesson they learn will be hey, we've gotta start packing some heat.

(BTW, closer examination at the bike shop would reveal two broken spokes.)

Posted by delmer at 9:30 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

September 8, 2007

When in Doubt

The following blurry picture is of a guy on a motorcycle with some sort of sticker on the back of it. The sticker says, "When in Doubt, Brew Up."

I thought When in Doubt, Brew Up had a pretty relaxing feel to it and that the American version might be, "When in Doubt, Have a Cold One."  The Brits don't drink cold beer as a rule (Last night I had a Newcastle Brown Ale. It's imported from the UK and has a reminder on the label to drink it cool.  A reminder!) and "When in Doubt, Drink a Warm One" lacks panache. When in Doubt, Brew Up, has a nice feel to it, sounds a bit naughty, has a good beat and is easy to dance to… I give it an 82, Dick."

At some point I mentioned the When in Doubt, Brew Up sticker to Lady Penelope and how I thought it was kind of bold for a guy to be rolling around on a motorcycle encouraging people to have a beer.

"You know that sticker is about brewing tea, right?" she asked.

"No," I replied.

"Didn't you see the teapot and cup?"

"Yes. I wondered about that but I figured they'd had their beer on the stove to get it to just the right level of warm."

Alright, I never said the bit about having the pot on the stove but the rest of the exchange is pretty accurate.

Thank to eBay I was able to find a non-blurry image of the sticker (or, in this case a plaque.)

I've no idea what the British War Department's role in the whole thing is.  When in Doubt, Take a Pawn would seem to make more sense from a War Department point-of-view.  Maybe brew up  is a subtle way of saying kick ass.

We Americans don't mess around with subtleties. I'm pretty sure the bumper sticker on the back of the Presidential Limo says: When in Doubt, Invade. 

Posted by delmer at 8:42 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

September 7, 2007

Relaxation

Today I decided I should take vacations more often. I'm still that relaxed.

Of course this feeling of relaxation has brought with it a sense of wondering. I mean, vacation is over and all I have are memories of it.

I like my job, the people I work with, and don't spend my days feeling as if I'm super stressed out.  Yet, today I noticed I'm more relaxed, I feel more focused, and at the end of the day I had a sense that I'd gotten a lot done.

How does this happen?  How do I go from being generally happy, not noticeably stressed to the point of wanting to kill people, to being very relaxed?

I'm not saying that well.

How does taking a vacation have such a lingering affect? 

I may not be as relaxed as the dog in this photo. But who knows, maybe I'm just a tickle under the arm away from getting there.

This certainly requires more research.

Posted by delmer at 8:40 PM | Comments (2)

September 6, 2007

Back to Work

Today was the first day back to work and I went in a bit early.  We had a printer problem while I was in England and a network printer object needed to be recreated.  I'd tried to fix it from the UK but ran into a problem. 

As it happens, the problem I ran into is that the web-based utility I use to set up printers will not run from my notebook.  When I was in England I thought the problem was related to VPN and distance issues.  Today, after spending an hour or so trying to get it to work and trying to sort out what was going on at the server to screw me, I decided to try the utility from another PC.  It worked and I had the printer back on the network in 5 minutes.

The PC it worked on it running Windows XP Pro with Internet Explorer 6.  the PC it wouldn't work from is running Windows CP Pro with Internet Explorer 6.  Go figure.

But enough of that.

I scooted out of work early (after all, I'd gone in early and skipped lunch) so I could hang with my kids and celebrate Haydn's 14th birthday.

Where do the years go?

Posted by delmer at 6:23 PM | Comments (4)

September 5, 2007

Leaving England

I had a 2 p.m. flight from London's Gatwick to JFK in New York City.  As every good traveler should I arrived at the airport three hours early. Thirteen and a half hours later I was in Columbus, Ohio.  

Oh, I could take this time to tell you that nothing went wrong, that all the flights went well, and that the food on the plane was better than I thought it would be, but I think I'll go a different direction.

I had the best time while in England.

I am not one of your better vacationers. I miss and worry about my children when they're not with me and I miss and  worry about work and computer crises that might pop up that I won't be able to fix from the road.  I'm also afraid I might wear out my welcome when I visit people; as they say, guests, like fish, often start to smell after three days.

I can't remember the last time I've taken a vacation that was more than a week long (though I lean toward 1988) and I don't think I've ever taken more than a couple of days vacation without my children in the time that I've had them (14 years tomorrow). 

In an incredibly rare move for me, this trip I was able to push work worries into one of the dark corners of my mind. I replaced them with a worry that went something like this: The sign says cold beer … I wonder what that means here. (There were a couple of work calls that came my way, but nothing too big or troublesome.)

Worries about my children were put to rest by the fact my mother and father came up to watch the boys the Friday I left and the following Friday through Wednesday when they returned to me from their mother's. I never worry about my children when they are in the care of my parents. Mom and dad are a very young 70-ish couple that my brother, sister and I broke in pretty well when we were younger.  The folks made sure the boys got to school and sports appointments, kept them fed and made sure they washed behind their ears. (Dad chauffeured me to and from Columbus International Airport as well.) As I've said before, they are Trophy Parents.

And so the two US-based (vacation-wise) worries were addressed.  All that was left was the worry about smelling like fish.

England is very close to France — some might say too close (I believe those some might be British) — and it was my hope that the smell of cheese wafting across the English Channel would mask any fishy smell I might put off after three or four days.

As it happens, my worries were all for nothing.

As I say above, I had a wonderful time while I was in England. A lot of the credit for this goes to Lady Penelope. She was kind enough to pick me up from and return me to Gatwick Airport and in-between those trips acted as tour guide, chef and chauffeur.  She took me to London, Kent, Stonehenge, Windsor and to see Spamalot among other places. 

While we saw touristy things like the 'henge, The Globe Theater, Big Ben, Windsor Castle, etc. we also did normal human-being things like grocery and school-uniform shopping (which gave me the opportunity to say to a customer service clerk named Carol, "I used to be married to a Carol. Would you like me to give you half of everything I have in my pocket?")  We went to McDonald's and several pubs that were off the beaten path and seemed to be frequented by locals. 

I don't know how to explain it, but when you're doing the touristy things (which really have to be done) you're surrounded by tourists and there is just something very neat about being in a Tesco (why can't our aisles be so wide?) looking at freakishly large carrots.

There is also something very neat about having a backyard to sit in while drinking tea, wine or Diet Coke and we were able to spend the lazy days and many mornings and evenings hanging out in Lady P's garden (backyard) doing just that.

I've written and deleted so much stuff trying to say just the right thing.  I've, honestly, been editing this entry for hours. When I reduce what I'm trying to say down to my simplest thoughts what I come up with is:

Lady Penelope gave me the chance to see bits of England that I would have never seen on my own and for this I am extremely and eternally grateful. (I'm just as extremely and eternally grateful for her taking me around to see the bits I would have seen on my own.)  While it has been my intention to go to the UK for years I never would have gotten around to it this summer without Lady P's suggestion. And had I gone on my own I would have spent all my time in London riding the London Eye and taunting Royal Guardsmen.

This vacation was so much better than that one would have been.

Thank You, Lady Penelope.

Posted by delmer at 12:25 PM | Comments (4)

September 4, 2007

The Last Two Days

Yesterday and today have been lazy days with today being the laziest.

Yesterday we did a bit of shopping for school supplies for Lady P's children and I picked up some things for me. While shopping I had the chance to help some of the other patrons by getting things off high shelves and I'm pretty sure one lady thought I worked there (I was lugging a ladder around at the time.).

Today we spent a lot of time in the backyard (garden) enjoying the sun and taking it easy.

Some things I've forgotten to mention:

One night we had pizza from Papa Johns. We ordered something that had meat and sweet corn on it. I'd never had sweet corn on a pizza before; it wasn't bad and provided a means of tracking just how far down the digestive tract the pizza had progressed.

I've had potato chips (crisps) that are chicken and something flavor and lamb and something flavor and some other uncommon flavors.

I did some driving. It was just about 1/2 mile and was accompanied by a lot of "You're pretty close to the curb. You're pretty close to the curb. You're pretty close to the curb." And then, of course, I hit the curb. Twice. I never felt close to the curb … well, except for when I was bouncing off it. (Notice how narrow the road is.)

I got Lady Penelope's computers networked together and made it so both could access the Internet.

I've said in the recent past that the Brits don't tip in pubs and restaurants. Lady P has corrected me and says they do tip in restaurants and I had a big, long explanation here that I've omitted and will restate more simply as, non-pub-like restaurants. They also tip for lap dances (it's only polite).

Something I noticed today (and it is important to note that while this appears as a September 4 entry, it was written September 8): There is a KFC commercial running in which a woman is eating chicken using the upside-down-knife-and-fork method.  There is a very good chance that I am simply a heathen.

Posted by delmer at 8:27 PM | Comments (7)

September 3, 2007

The rest of the Stonehenge Trip

As we were driving to Stonehenge Lady Penelope made a navigational decision that took us off the M-whatever and onto a road with an A designation. We got the tiniest bit lost.

During our bit of being lost we were never really too far from our destination we just weren't taking the shortest route to get there. We got unlost well before hitting the Welcome to Isle of Wight sign.

Speaking of signs, and I'm sorry I don't have photos of these, we passed a couple of "Tank Crossing" signs (we were near a military installation of some sort) and a sign that seemed to say "Beware of Elderly People." (Do we really need signs to mark tank crossings? Don't you think you'd notice a tank if it was coming across your lane of traffic. Do we really need signs warning us to beware of the elderly. Doesn't everybody know an old person and have an awareness of just how beware of them we should be?)

As we took our alternate route we passed through some really cute little villages.

We drove by this thatched-roof cottage while we were lost and I got out and snapped a photo; just the day before my mother had requested pics of thatched-roof homes for a painting project.

While in England I saw quite a few phone booths — they seem to have all but vanished here in the US. This one was sitting away from anything else.

On the way to Stonehenge we passed by The George Inn and decided to swing by it on the way back to Crowthorne.

It was while we were at The George Inn that it hit me that just about everywhere we'd gone that had beer had had (that's three hads in pretty short order, yet it works) the alcohol percentage information pretty close at hand. When I was making my beer selection the bar gal told me I could have Beer A with 4% alcohol or Beer B with 3.4% alcohol. I eventually had one of each.

I also eventually bought a beer for the road and when I did was asked if I wanted it opened (I did). This was another thing I found interesting. There were signs in some of the pubs stating children weren't allowed in the pub but drinks could be taken outside and sold to go in an open state.


Lady Penelope and I had Baitfish as an appetizer. Lady P feared it might come looking like small, breaded, whole fish but the bits we received had been beheaded and gutted.

I ordered Fish & Chips as a main course but there was some sort of mistake with my order and I received something else instead. We mentioned this to the waiter (just to make sure I hadn't received someone else's food) and, following an apology, he offered to take it back. I explained that I was all about trying new things and was happy to keep what I had. It was very good.

You'll notice the Guinness in the above picture (Lady P was drinking it); it reminds me of another story. While at dinner Friday night one of the guys told of being in a pub when three or four American's strolled in. One of the Americans approached the bar and ordered black and tans for the group. The bartender was unfamiliar with the drink as was the other British guy at Friday's dinner. After the first Brit explained a black and tan both guys made you've got to be kidding me faces.
This is the garden area of The George Inn. Monty is keeping an eye on our drinks.

Posted by delmer at 2:02 PM | Comments (0)

September 2, 2007

Stonehenge

Today Lady P, Monty (her dog) and I went to Stonehenge.

Prior to the trip the only thing I'd known about Stonehenge had come from Dr. Seuss's One Henge, Two Henge, Fun Henge, Stonehenge and Eddie Izzard's Dress to Kill video. While both sources made Stonehenge sound impressive, in a rhymey sort of way in one case and in a tearfully funny way in the other, neither captured the true coolness of Stonehenge.

It's hard to explain. Well, maybe not hard to explain: It's a bunch of rocks in a field with sheep nearby in an adjacent field.

The rocks are massive and were carved from stone several hundred miles away and then henged (Druid-speak for schlepped) by Druids to their present location. According to Wikipedia, "The Druids were polytheists, but also revered elements of nature, such as the sun, the moon, and the stars, looking to them for "signs and seasons." I imagine the Druids were quite buff as well and suspect, and this is revolutionary people, that Stonehenge might have been sort of a home gym for the local Druid society. (Others have suggested that Stonehenge has something to do with ceremonies centered around the two equinoxes. Any fool knows that working out twice a year is not nearly enough to maintain a level of fitness and I believe the Druids used a Monday, Wednesday, Friday routine or possibly a 4-day a week schedule working upper body and lower body/back on alternate days. As always, consult your physician before starting any exercise regimen; if your doctor is unavailable you may consult a Druid.)

Photos:

A friend of mine has a picture of him, as an infant, sitting on Stonehenge with his parents (back in the 60s). You can't get very close anymore and these tourists aren't as close to Stonehenge as they may appear. You still get a pretty good feel for just how big the rocks are.

Stonehenge

Stonehenge and tourists

These guys were across the road with one of those gizmos that shoots a beam of some sort into the ground to determine what might be below the surface. The gizmo looks sort of like a walker and is used the same way over a grid-like pattern.

Monty the Wonder Dog. What makes him a Wonder Dog you ask. He's 14 but still very young at heart. He likes to have you throw the ball so he can retrieve it, but not so many times that it drives you crazy.

A rock off to one side. To add some perspective it will help you to know that Monty stands about 12 to 16" off the ground, maybe a dog-hair more. I stand just a bit over 6 feet 4 inches.

Posted by delmer at 12:39 PM | Comments (0)

September 1, 2007

A Day of Rest

Saturday September 1 was a day of rest, what with it coming on the heels of the Friday Night Dinner and Wine Party.

Still, even when one is at rest he needs to eat and 4 p.m. seemed like a good time to get around to doing it. Lady Penelope and I went to The Prince Pub, in Crowethorne, for our first and only meal that day.

I ate the above. It is some sort of steak pot pie. Steak and ale pie? That doesn't sound right. It was very good as was all of the food we had in the thousands of pubs, or three, maybe four, we visited.

Lady Penelope had this and was kind enough to give me a bit of the sausage.

A shot of The Prince from the outside.

Posted by delmer at 5:15 PM | Comments (3)

England -- The Boonies

Tuesday and Wednesday (August 28 and 29) were spent in the county of Kent in Southeast England visiting Lady Penelope's sister, brother-in-law, their towheaded boys and their black lab.

As you know, I typically try to hide the identities and locations of the people appearing in this blog (all except for me — I'll be at Mel's Diner later tonight). I really, really, really wish I could give you the address of Lady P's relatives just so you could see how interesting it is. It's almost poetry and if you were to read it there'd be no doubt in your mind that their house used to belong to Bilbo Baggins.

Most of Tuesday was spent relaxing in the garden (Americans would say backyard) with some cooking activity later in the day (I helped just the smallest bit. Mostly by lifting hot items out of the oven. It seems I did some stirring too.).

(I really need to read up on punctuating parenthetical phrases or get out of the habit of using them. I'm not happy with the above, but not unhappy enough to do anything about it. Anyway…)

Lady Penelope's sister and brother-in-law were wonderful people and terrific hosts.

(I'd like to take this time to apologize for something I said while in Kent: I said, "I'm going to try one of those Smarties," when I meant to say, "Would it be OK if I tried one of those Smarties." I believe I've already been forgiven for my candy-grabbing boldness, but I still feel a little bit troubled by it.)

Here are some photos of Kent:

On the road to The Boonies.

A view from the backyard.

This is not the picture I was trying to take, but I thought it looked sort of cool. I snapped it shortly after we left Lady P's sister's.

The backyard neighbors.

We have plenty of open fields in Ohio but I felt compelled to take a picture of this one. When I rolled down the window it became apparent (and it would have become apparent eventually, even with the windows up) that the field had been treated with something. It didn't smell exactly like manure, unless it had come from very sick animals, although manure was certainly part of the mix. If it were possible to guess a field's crop output based on smell alone — and the badder the smell the better the crop — this baby would be kicking out Jack-and-the-Beanstalk-like vines.

Um. It's a cow folks. This one turned to pose just as I went to snap its picture; I couldn't very well not post it.

Posted by delmer at 3:13 PM | Comments (3)