• Announcements

    • Zapata

      Abbreviated rules   07/28/2017

      Underdawg did an excellent job of explaining the rules.  Here's the simplified version: Don't insinuate Pedo.  Warning and or timeout for a first offense.  PermaFlick for any subsequent offenses Don't out members.  See above for penalties.  Caveat:  if you have ever used your own real name or personal information here on the forums since, like, ever - it doesn't count and you are fair game. If you see spam posts, report it to the mods.  We do not hang out in every thread 24/7 If you see any of the above, report it to the mods by hitting the Report button in the offending post.   We do not take action for foul language, off-subject content, or abusive behavior unless it escalates to persistent stalking.  There may be times that we might warn someone or flick someone for something particularly egregious.  There is no standard, we will know it when we see it.  If you continually report things that do not fall into rules #1 or 2 above, you may very well get a timeout yourself for annoying the Mods with repeated whining.  Use your best judgement. Warnings, timeouts, suspensions and flicks are arbitrary and capricious.  Deal with it.  Welcome to anarchy.   If you are a newbie, there are unwritten rules to adhere to.  They will be explained to you soon enough.  
Sign in to follow this  
Followers 0
  • entries
    13
  • comments
    0
  • views
    3,827

About this blog

therapeutic caterwauling

Entries in this blog

Nicolations
blog-0742442001404186186.jpg

When's the last time you waved at someone?

 

Palm forward, all fingers extended wave.

 

I was just reading a thread about "My motorcycle is best because...", actually it was more like," your bike sucks because..."

 

Wah, wah, wah

 

I've been fortunate enough to own three vehicles in my life that consistently drew waves, thumbs-ups, and smiles. I bought two of them not knowing this phenomenon exsisted. The first was a '62 bug, the second was a '86 jeep.

 

The beetle is probably a no brainer. Everybody loves bugs. Well at least the thought or memory of a Volksie. They're so different. It dosent matter about their shortcomings, everybody waved and smiled.

 

The CJ might catch a few people by surprise. Jeep people wave at jeep people. My old AMC was green and tan, rusty, loud and fun. We were going out one evening and hit a patch of ice from an overpass and flipped over a fire plug landing on our roof. Walked away. Had it towed to the house where after sitting for a year was pressed back into service, by chopping the top to look like a mini pickup, buying a new windshield frame, and putting the seatbelt through the door handle/pull to hold the doors shut. Good Times!

 

The third one was exspected. Moto scooter people wave. A lot.

 

The best one was when I was on my way home just after I bought it. A buddy of mine had demonstrated his fantasy wave technique. His wife loved him enough to ask him to get any sports car he wanted, just please don't start riding a big, fat, powerful, Barcolounger in your mid fifties. He complied and is happy. His demonstration, however, started me thinking.

 

How would I wave? Who would I wave to? When would waving be inappropriate? Am I putting to much thought into this? When's Jepordy on?

 

Leaving the divided four lanes of Rt119 onto the narrower two lane I looked ahead and saw rounding the corner a Goldwing, as I recall, decision time.

 

But the die was already cast. It was as if this rider, knight of the highway, knew my dilemma.

 

On cue, he saw me, rose from his saddle, STOOD on his pegs, and using his shoulder, elbow, and wrist WAVED!

 

This wave reminded of leaving grandmas house, dad leaving for work, or maybe a freight train passing at a crossing. One of those waves.

 

As he came closer he didn't stop. I could also see him smiling a just-won-the-lottery smile. My first wave. Thanks whoever you are.

 

I wave at all motorcycles. Waved at a riding mower once (He started it). Wave at "The Company" guys, they don't wave back. Don't wave at scooters, trikes or an ekirt, that's a trike going backwards, I will return one though.

 

My wave? Ok, I'll concede this to the silly department, but I saw a poster of Steve McQueen throwing a victory sign, palm forward, fingers down. Below the bars, bikes only. Everybody else palm forward, above the bars, Amish included.

 

Yes it's juvenile, it's my "Waving Game". I don't care.

 

If I wave and they don't wave back, well, maybe they're having a bad day.

 

I'll wave harder.

Nicolations
blog-0235207001398262954.jpg

For the first time ever, I was called to jury duty.

 

Duty.

 

You can almost see the smirks on the faces as the people step off the elevator.

 

Jury Duty

 

Call of Jury Duty. Yeah. That's my new video game idea!

 

You're piloting an airplane , stacking blocks, or maybe playing online poker when...

 

The screen goes blank! Your inbox dings, and you think," hmmmm, I wonder what this could be?"

You open the mail and...

 

JURY DUTY; Shadow ops gold ninjas revenge III !!! For xbox ps2 and wii

 

Your mission; you have 30 days until civic duty! Prepare, escape, avoid, or deny. Use doctors, lawers, employers, friends, or your dog, mr snuggims, to conquer the enemy!!! Prepare speeches, answers, notes, lies , and statistics to convince battle hardened judges to strike you from the roster!

 

See your vacation days dwindle, paychecks disappear, bosses anger, sanity evaporate!!! Earn $9 and mileage every single day!!!

 

As with anything governmental, my actual involvement during those 2 days was roughly 12 1/2 minutes including filling out the screening form, group questioning, and then individual questioning. I learned about knitting, played a tv game show, watched the talking heads drone on about stuff and had some good donuts. Now as a bonus, I learned that Stephenos son was fooling around with the babysitter, but Sammy, his fiancé,doesn't know until she sees the photo! The sitter is pregnant, when she is confronted she falls off the stairs, fortunately, it was just a dream sequence but Sammy is ignorant of the affair.

 

Poor girl:(

 

$9.00 and mileage.

 

Please let me write off my missed time from work and give me a slice of pizza but not 9 bucks and gas.

 

Oh I forgot, free parking. I drive a full size van that doesn't fit in your garage. Try backing up 100 yards against traffic only 30' from the exit because the last beam is 2" lower the the rest.

 

I was dismissed. Too ugly. I guess it is a crime.

Nicolations
blog-0088894001395620878.jpg

(note: I began this before my march 22 entry)

 

Sorry for the delay. Life got in the way. But, now I'm AOK.

 

Life comes at you fast.

 

My counsler said that. An insurance company uses it too.

 

Sometimes it's fun, other times not so much.

 

I remember when I moved away from home, met my wife, married, moved, new job, children, house, and, and, and...

 

Good times.

 

I'm in a classroom with 13 other students learning how to help our local communities. I just clicked over to 44 years of age. Thank you. There's a kid 20, a retired fella 63, and everywhere in between. 80 hours of instruction at a pretty good clip for a guy who has been out of the public education machine for a while.

 

At work we're wrapping up a phase of a project, so punch lists are being filled and new ones generated. You're never bored and usually frustrated by someone else not being on the same page when you think they should be.

 

My kids.

 

If you have any, you're nodding your head. I love them.

 

A few years ago I stopped asking people what they "did" for a living. It always became the focus of attention and limited my definition of an individual. People are wonderful for there nooks and crannies as much as the broad strokes.

 

I didn't drink coffee until 5 years ago when I went to work for a startup coffee equipment business. Now I am an unapologetic snob. I have preferred barista/process combinations.

 

Some musicians play classical, others, punk. Few do both WELL.

 

The snow is melting, birds are singing, spring showed up on the calendar at least.

 

I'm looking forward to another season of growth and renewal.

 

I just need to make some time.

Nicolations
blog-0107643001395541387.jpg

...Pardner.

 

I already wrote about paying homage to the dearly departed, this will be a slightly different tack.

 

Fred Phelps is dead.

 

What did you just think or say?

 

Exactly.

 

I remember watching an interview he did some time ago, 60 Minutes maybe, and there he was ranting and smiling. That was the look of a true believer. Fanatic. Not raving, as I recall, but would have died at that moment never recanting a word of his manifesto of hate.

 

I was invited to go to an organizational meeting of the Ku Klux Klan once by someone who thought they new me.

 

(This would be a really good time to start a conversation about your apparent image to those around you. Another day perhaps.)

 

I was working for a gunsmith at the time and expressed my disgust of politics on a regular basis. This and my pale skin tone must have met the stringent prerequisite qualification to be invited to the auspicious event.

 

I declined.

 

I had recently read I Led Three Lives by Edwerd Philbreck and was not wanting to end up on any government watch list (this entry fixes that omission).

 

Oh, but to be a fly on the wall.

 

Hate is cheap. The poor throw bricks at their hates, the rich, words. There is never a vacume to the throne of the kingdom of hate. Hate likes camoflage. A softening. Labels. The Tea Time/Occupy Place movements, which I respect for many things, also are wonderful conduit for people to focus and express there hatred.

 

We all know hate. We all hate. Even if it is as appropriate as hating evil, the emotion runs strong.

 

Ask Anakin Skywalker.

 

The nanosecond Phelps left this earth, his still warm shoes were filled. Like someone missing the final question on a game show, I actually feel pity.

 

My father told me this story when I was young. I'm glad I found it:

 

"Perhaps the most famous trials in history were known as the Nuremberg Trials, the trials of the Nazi war criminals of World War II. One of the masterminds of probably the worst of all concentration camps-- Auschwitz--was Rudolf Hess. His trial was broadcast all over the world. During the trial witness after witness came forward to the stand to relive the worst atrocities known to mankind. Witness after witness told of the brutality, the killings, the fear, the gas chambers, the crematorium, and of Hess in the middle of it all.

 

As the trial came to a close, the day of justice had come. On the day of the reading of the verdict, Rudolf Hess entered the room, awaiting his fate. The crowd and the media grew silent. The verdict came: GUILTY! As the verdict was read, weeping could be heard from different locations in the room. Some were silently crying, others openly weeping and wailing.

 

As the courtroom emptied, a reporter stopped one of the witnesses. He asked, "I can understand the emotion you must be feeling at this moment. Is it because justice has finally been served? Is it because now there is finally an end to the horror and the pain? Why is it that you are filled with such emotion?" The man stopped and looked long into the eyes of the reporter, and as he wiped his face he replied, "It has nothing to do with any of those. I weep because as I stood there looking into his eyes, I saw myself.""

 

The famous Blaise Pascal Wager has an interesting twist here. Phelps bet God was a hater.

 

I wonder what he thinks now...

Nicolations
blog-0779353001391136764.jpg

"You going up to Punxsy?"

 

Am I 19 and stoned,"No, not this year."

 

Living only 15 minutes from The Weather Capital of the World, Punxsutawney Pennsylvania, Indian for "land of the sand-flies",and Latin for "Penns woods", this is a conversation that must come up every dead of winter.

 

No, this year I won't get up at 2am, fight for a parking space, overpay for trinkets, freeze with 2000 drunks and wait for a rodent, better suited as a varmint rifle target, to be yanked out of a box so some pseudo-illuminati fellas can read off the pre-scripted weather report for the next month and a half.

 

Not judging. Just my preference.

 

My prediction? 6 more weeks of full tilt Nordland style winter.

 

I'm leaving this one short and sweet. Leave a story about your Punxsy Phil. How about Woodstock? Maybe a Greatful Dead short. Everybody has a story of their own Penns Sandflies adventure. Boring to you, funny to us

 

Share

Nicolations
blog-0509950001390418805.jpg

The Professor has passed away.

 

The scene is a lunch room full of rough, tough, crazed Ironworkers sitting introspectively, quietly, pondering a passing of a significant member of our human race. Not a statesman, or philosopher, but someone who's existence carved a wake through mankind, the ripples of will be felt for a generation.

 

Mr. Rodgers had passed away.

 

Presidents ("he's a bum"), historical figures ("what a bum"), even people in there own arena respected for achievement ("if you knew him, #%& bum!") would be shredded without any second thought. A common man, however, without request received a long, silent, introspection the likes of which I have never seen before or since.

 

Praise, simple and sincere memorialized the occasion.

 

"I watched him as a kid"

 

"My children and I watch him"

 

"He was a good guy"

 

In this age of information saturation we see all there is to see about people. Personal information, private moments, failures, miss starts, mistakes, and anything else that is available. The US federal government can't even keep embarrassing secrets. We love to see peoples dirty laundry.

 

So Spider-Man has issues. J. Edgar wore a tutu. Kermit T. Frog loves a pig. Great. Santa is an overweight voyeur who uses magic and animal labor. Shame.

 

Will The Professor meet this same fate? I hope not, his character was a childhood friend who mesmerized me, even though at a very young age I couldn't figure out why he didn't just patch the boat. How many times as a child I wished I could be on that island (and later as a teen!).

 

I'm not saying put on rose colored glasses and everybody is wonderful, rather, let's hope that some people we know, we actually know. If MY life was laid out for the world to see, some of my friends would evaporate, others would be tested.

 

Honesty is a virtue everybody admires and encourages, but, it is a drink that few can enjoy straight. Forgiveness and understanding, I have found, are equally rare commodities.

 

Thank you Professor, for your humor and your life. Smooth sailing.

Nicolations

Obsolete Adolescent

blog-0614137001389411921.jpg

Everybody wants to be different.

 

eh

 

Like most of life I'd say it's more a bell curve than anything else. Some Andy Warhol, others that guy you say hi to down the street.

 

When I was single, I drove past a yard/junk sale for a couple of weeks. On one saw horse n' plywood display table was an old typewriter, after curiosity took care of the cat it finally convinced me to stop and browse. I think it was $15, not being a haggler, it's a good price or it isn't, I loaded it up and took the other mans junk home.

 

At the time I was a technician at a large plant, so mechanical work was very second nature. I cleaned, oiled and adjusted a couple of things and voila, I owned a functional Underwood #5. I sat down and typed out a letter to my mum, a former receptionist for Ingersol Rand. I knew if anyone would be impressed it'd be my mum. When I was in high school, these new fangled computers were coming around, dad had bought a TRS-80 from RadioShack, we were styling! A typeing class wouldn't hurt my image to much, after all, my punker buddy who read maxiumrockandroll was takeing it too.

 

I put wd40 on the ribbon to rejuvenate the ink and it was working great. Mum would never know it took me a hour to type 3 paragraphs, only that her favorite son had thought to send her a nicely TYPED letter.

 

When I finished, also completing the envelope, I turned off the light and headed for the stairs. Then disaster.

 

A noise I recognized as a spring unwinding cut thru the dark. The strap that indexed the carriage along had snapped. My mother received the one and only product of my gigantic, antiquated, printing machine.

 

I still have it.

 

I'm waiting outside a fitting room as I type this into my phone(is a device that does all this still a phone? Even a "smart" phone? If Star Trek and Dick Tracy had put this in a script it would have been rejected).

 

I held up a pair of pants for my wife, she gives me "the look" I return them to the rack. Shame on you. Then she spies a pair,"ooo, look at these, and they're," a brand,"what cha think?"

 

I know she didn't pick the brand,but somehow the little finger length label made some difference.

 

My bike is a '74 R75/6. I bought it because of the man who was selling it. He had a model he bought new in '64. Rode hard, maintained by himself, never let him down. My neighbor bought one, an '04 I believe, because he saw my bike with nearly a quarter of a million miles.

 

I wouldn't buy that bike. It did have 9 of the roundels on it, but not the character. I don't know if that is the word, I'm sure the engineering is a quantum leap from my mid 70's gem but still. There are competitors to his model that have many of the same visual cues, I think that is why all badges are needed.

 

When I was working for a younger friend of mine the term "hipster" kept coming up, not in my dress which has been described as thrift store reject, but the things I like and purchase. I was perusing something and an etsy store came up. Somewhere in the City of Brotherly Love a fella came up with a kit to convert my old #5 into a hybrid keyboard/typewriter that will justify its existence.

 

I am thrilled! Truly.

 

She just gave me the look.

 

Bad dog

 

Note:

I'm giving everybody these little snap-shot of my life as a personal growth exercise. An attempt at random thought bubbles if you will. I could use a little feedback if you'd take a minute and just say my dad did that too or you had me chuckling or go back to Mongolia you fascist swine. Thanks N

Nicolations
blog-0823087001388285458.jpg

When I was a little kid, show cars had Candy Apple metallic paint, pinstriping, and air brushed murals that made the Sistene Chapel look like doodle. Everything was chromed, shag carpeted, wood grained, or manipulated in some way to really make it "classy"!

 

I hate that word. Classy. Every time I hear it I think of another tasteless application of cash and logos to worthless trash. The last several times I've seen it applied to a product it was just that, a "product".

 

Classy. Don't even get me started on "Premium".

 

It didn't matter if the car could run or was comfortable, just make it look good. A friend of mine had a $1000 car, a Chevette I think, with a $1000 stereo. This was the late '80's and there were no sound system competitions, he just wanted his car to sound the best he could afford. We thought he was nuts, but he was invited to all the parties and tailgates.

 

A friend of mine has the perfect hair. Long, wavy, brown, and I'm told soft as can be. Mine is graying and rather monk-like. Now in all fairness he may be blessed with perfect genes, however, at 40-something he made our 25 year old assistant look like a scarecrow. I get it, he was introduced to his current girlfriend because,"she likes the young ones with long hair".

 

I'm younger then he is! Happily married, yes! But 3 whole years younger!

 

It doesn't matter. Now I can take a pill, run some Goo thru my hair, drink a potion and voila! I'm 25 again, the ladies love me and men are envious.

 

Uh huh

 

I was looking at the calendar and saw a new year was upon us. Resolution time! I don't make them. At least not since I was 8. Never followed thru on one.

 

Let's do a low impact one this year. "This year I do forth with solemnly pledge on threat of ..."

Whatever.

 

Read a book you always wanted too. A few years ago I started reading all the books I was required to in my schooling and didn't enjoy.

 

This is a hard one. Patch up a relationship that's screwed up. Tough one. Humbleness is a virtue.

 

Learn a new skill. I have schooling I'm required to take this year, so not really a stretch, but I'm thinking of taking a water painting class. Don't tell my friends.

 

Donate. No. Not last years clothes. Time, money, expertise, not for the tax credit, do it to do it. (Take the tax credit anyway.)

 

Try some real enhancement, the type that if it last more then 4 hours you don't have to see a doctor for.

Nicolations
blog-0740083001388212847.jpg

I'm sitting in an office at my sons school.

 

My parents never went to school to have a teacher say," Gee Mr. and Mrs. Nicolations your son is a talented, well disciplined, future pillar of the community."

 

My son however was excited for me to meet his teacher,"...and you're going to see my class room", things I never thought or said. Innocence is a precious thing.

 

"You know why we're doing this"

 

"Yeah. I am a distraction. I talk in class..." My son is cataloging his old mans elementry school career.

 

His teacher Mrs. Willow is a pleasant young lady. The three of us sit and she repeats the list my boy already recited. When she finishes. I ask him.

 

"Is that all true?"

 

A moment of consideration,"Yep". As honest and sincere as you please.

 

Truth time. I was a terrible liar. I lied a lot. I lied constantly. I would rather my children tell me the truth then lie. We'll deal with the infraction, but I'll drop the dad wrath on you for lying.

 

I thanked him and sent him to the foyer to wait. As the door closed she looked at me and started to giggle. I laughed and smiled.

 

"He's not bad. He doesn't hit anyone. He's not destructive. He's just...", a little boy," a distaction. He is so full of energy. All his teachers say the same thing."

 

"Mrs. Willow, what do you think we should do?"

 

"I don't know."

 

We laugh some more. She's a good one. I was taught to hate school early. I don't think he'll have those lessons. We formulated a plan.

 

"I'd like to see his room if I may," a messy desk was on the list of areas for improvement.

 

We walk down the halls. What happened to the gigantic temple of learning I attended in my youth. Come to think of it, when did these young ladies start being the educators of our future? Old gray haired women! That's what kids need today! We arrive.

 

Our neighbor is a cleaner in the kids school.

 

"Hi, Betty!"

 

"How are you doing buddy?"

 

She and her husband are the type of neighbors you thank God your kids get to grow up around. My daughters spent the night over there with her granddaughter. That type of neighbor.

 

"Am I going to have to help you clean your desk?"

 

Yeah. I distinctly remember two teachers pulling a plug of textbooks and overdue homework out of mine. My sons desk is barely disheveled. But I play along.

 

"Do you think you could do a neater job?"

 

"Yeah. Ooo look at this dad, I got a B on this!" Yeah last month.

 

"Nice one bud. We'll show mum when we get home."

 

The two ladies send us on our way. We talk on the way home.

 

You prune young trees, fertilize, water, build fences, talk to them. I'm trying to do that.

 

Check in in 20 years we'll see how we did.

Nicolations
blog-0877350001387687658.jpg

My children are staring blank faced at the boob tube.

 

On the screen Lady Gaga is dancing with the muppets to a song. I couldn't tell you what it was, shock was haveing its way with me. No that's not correct, I was waiting for the punch line that never came. There was a brief comic interlude. A muppet magician who made his buddy rabbit disappear, by swallowing him! I laughed out loud. Then Gaga again dancing this time. Kids Christmas special?

 

Then she played a duet with Elton John, he is amazing. She does have some talent. His piano was red.

 

"His piano is red dad."

 

"It's Christmas."

 

"Hers should be green then."

 

Yep, you're right

 

Next up Ru Paul.

 

.

 

"Any body watching this?"

 

We're at a friends house now. I'm in a basement with 15 kids mostly watching Rudolph save Christmas. I'm enjoying Burl Ives sing "Holly Jolly Christmas". Rock on Mr. Ives.

 

I understand that in this good old U S of A we can do pretty much anything we want. Let's take steaks and tacos. Result Tex-Mex! African stringed instrument and a bunch of scottish hillbillies= bluegrass! The world watches us because we think convention is a challenge not a guideline.

 

In the natural world their are laws. The moon orbits the earth because of gravity. Boys orbit girls because of biology. Electrons orbit protons because of elven magic and bungee cords. These thing have exceptions, but they are just that, exceptions not randomness, they still comply to rules.

 

So how do I apply this to my world. Americas Cup racers that fly and have more technology then the Apollo program. Really? I'm no sailor, well if Gilligan was a sailor maybe I am but, is the crew competing or are the design houses/ financiers embroiled in battle. My brother raced amateur bicycles in Belgium one season. EVERYBODY was dopeing. Who's racing?

 

Gaga was lip synching. Oooo. That's ok. I know you can't layer your voice easily to do what she does. But who thought," hey, let put a sexually provocative pop star on this years kids Christmas special!"

Hey let's let Rush Limbaugh be grand Marshall at the gay pride parade......

 

I eat refried beans, halupkis, fish&chips, knochwurst und sushi, just not (usually) at the same time. I love this place, sometimes, I just don't get it.

Nicolations

blog-0712736001387344975.jpgHere comes Christmas.

 

Cynical or sentimental?

 

I remember when?

or

Ya know the problem today is...?

 

I'm gonna get a...

Oh Holy night, the...

 

I was listening to a political "discussion" the other day on a subject that was already decided in a back room somewhere when it struck me," I don't know 12 people who really care how this ends."

 

Millions of dollars are going to be spent and nobody has a close enough relationship to this topic that they can affect the outcome one iota.

 

Where I work the company received a reprieve from Big Brother to continue "emitting" another year so the $750 MILLION(!) upgrade won't be turned on this year. Who cares it's just money.

 

Well fellow Anarchist, I say we do something different this year! One thing I liked about the Occupy Something/Tea Time movements was A lack of focus! We can be more less focused! We can do good that nobody will be able to recognize as a vast popular uprising of decentralized effort! (I vow to use more exclamation marks! Power to Some People!)

 

Christmas

 

This week make a conscious effort to do a George Bailey. If you don't know who he is, you have 24 hours to find out, or hand in your passport and please move to North Korea. No you don't have to save the family business or your town just do something that is a little more.

 

You're not follower of the mass of Christ? I know some people who say they are but don't call me to prove it. I'm looking at this as more a way to strike out at mediocracy, pragmatism, practitality, common sense, comfort zones, smooth sailing, karma, normalicy, exspectations, and dozens of other things that have us puttering done the same old path. Jesus did. (Please note outcome) He hung out with guys with boats!

 

Let's be a small Christmas story someone tells this year.

 

Make a Merrier Christmas!

Nicolations

blog-0986333001386469527.jpgI don't read blogs. usually. I enjoy writing. Typically, only my wife and an interested party or two reads it and then... Its forgotten. As I enter middle age I'm starting to get comfortable in things. Not as much as my friends but still. People who are already prepared for retirement and beyond aren't exactly standards to set your sights on.

 

Here we go.

 

(some fluff for an appetizer)

 

I really enjoy SA. People just venting about the spectrum of life. Good pictures, a variety of views, topics I'd never consider...yeah, I love it.

 

Well I'll leave it here for now.

 

The stretch before the run...

...or walk

Sign in to follow this  
Followers 0