I can't say that my visit to Match.com this time around hasn't been productive. Everyday I get at least one or two messages from perspective matches, hoping to meet their last and greatest love. Some are old and some are actually too young. For example, as I approach 64, I received an email from a girl 45 that was pictured with a Rapper that she represents, as she is an agent for entertainers. I no more knew who this Rapper was that the man in the moon, although I'd seen him on TV in the past. That, in and of itself, tells a lot about me. That means I'm not impressed with Rappers and yes, I'm too old for her!
One lady I speak with almost every night for about 2 to 3 hours and we seem to get along very well, but we never seem to meet. I've asked her several times and she always has plans, but calls me the following evening to burn up my batteries. Go figure.
Last and my scariest contact is a woman named Barbara who I've been communicating with since the very first day on Match. She always writes to me at anywhere between 2 AM and 5 AM in the morning and it's not because she gets up early. At first I thought she was an insomniac, but have since changed my diagnosis to "Vampire"! Here is what I've figured out. During the day, she sleeps in her casket, filled with soil from her homeland, probably Indiana or someplace like that. Then, when the sun goes down, she roams around Cave Creek looking for fresh blood. Honestly speaking, she seems to have the sharpest personality and say some pretty cute things in her emails. I've grown quite attached to her for a sparring partner. This morning, after a lot of prodding, she finally offered me her telephone number and said she'd finally like to go to second base, talking on the phone. I called her tonight and there was no answer. I left a voicemail and then did my research, thanks to my friend Barry, who gave me a website that offers everyone's vital information. For some reason, Barry has sworn me to secrecy in giving out the web address. He feels it's our secret.
The following is the course of search I took and discovered that Barbara is NOT who she claimed to be. In her profile, Barbara claimed to be 55 and who was I to doubt it, although she did look a lot older in her photo. I entered her phone number on a Google search and it gave me her address in Cave Creek. I then clicked on her address and it offered me her full name, Barbara Smith. I then entered Barbara Smith in my secret website and the first thing that popped up was her date of birth and it was 1940! I was so upset, I couldn't do the math as quickly as I wanted to and finally, although I was alone, screamed out, "She 70 years old! Jeez Louise! It's a good thing I 've got caller ID, because she's bound to call back!
Monday, March 22, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
The First Full Day of Spring...
Just because someone dies, doesn't mean that you stop celebrating their birthday, right? I mean you don't necessarily get them a present, but it's okay to think of them on that special day. So with that in mind, today is my mother's 93th birthday, in spite of the fact that she died on Feb 5th in 1987, just a little over a month before her 70th birthday. This may sound funny to say, but as vain as she was, perhaps it's better that she didn't have to see how she looked at 93. She would have been pissed!
It was sort of a quiet weekend that just passed. It started with a visit from the spa repairman. When I left for Florida, the spa was full and warm and happy, but when I returned, it was what you call empty. No explanation, just missing the hundreds of gallons of water that I left in it when I took off. No puddles or obvious leaks, just missing. I was threatening to call 911, when rational thoughts took over and I called Spa Guts instead. The Spa Guts repairman came out and suspected a leak..............brilliant, huh? He'll be back next Friday with a replacement pipe for my spa.
Having been neglectful of picking up my mail on Saturday, I moseyed down to the mailbox today, Sunday. To my chagrin, there was an envelope from the HOA association chastising me for having weeds in my front yard. It rained while I was away and I didn't hop right on it when I returned and 7 days seem to have passed with me being neglectful. It must have taken a day or 2 to get me the letter and I was a day late picking it up from the mailbox. That means the HOA must have issued the letter at the first sight of a seedling popping it's spring face up towards the sun. Instead of them delighting in nature, they chastised me for not yanking the mother out, along with it's baby roots. Well, fear not people, I got on the job today and yanked that little mother out! Mother nature will do well to think twice, before trying to display another of her children in my yard.
It was sort of a quiet weekend that just passed. It started with a visit from the spa repairman. When I left for Florida, the spa was full and warm and happy, but when I returned, it was what you call empty. No explanation, just missing the hundreds of gallons of water that I left in it when I took off. No puddles or obvious leaks, just missing. I was threatening to call 911, when rational thoughts took over and I called Spa Guts instead. The Spa Guts repairman came out and suspected a leak..............brilliant, huh? He'll be back next Friday with a replacement pipe for my spa.
Having been neglectful of picking up my mail on Saturday, I moseyed down to the mailbox today, Sunday. To my chagrin, there was an envelope from the HOA association chastising me for having weeds in my front yard. It rained while I was away and I didn't hop right on it when I returned and 7 days seem to have passed with me being neglectful. It must have taken a day or 2 to get me the letter and I was a day late picking it up from the mailbox. That means the HOA must have issued the letter at the first sight of a seedling popping it's spring face up towards the sun. Instead of them delighting in nature, they chastised me for not yanking the mother out, along with it's baby roots. Well, fear not people, I got on the job today and yanked that little mother out! Mother nature will do well to think twice, before trying to display another of her children in my yard.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Airline Stock Prices Soar...
Around 1974, early in that year, I sold "Up Your Legs" my pants store in Palatine, Illinois and was offered a job by Bluebell Manufacturers, makers of Wrangler jeans for their new Sedgefield line. The job paid a whopping $17,250 salary plus an expense account, something I'd never heard of back then. They ushered all of us to El Paso Texas for our first national sales meeting and showered us with perks and gifts, one of which was a little money clip with a nail file and a tiny pocket knife blade in it and inscribed on the Florentine finish was the company logo and Sedgefield. I told you all that, so I could tell you this. For the many years since and there have been 36 of them, I carried that money clip as part of my personal effects. I learned many years ago and I might ad, the hard way, that cash loose in your pocket easily gets lost.
While in line for the airport security, I did everything I was told. I offered my driver's license along with my boarding pass and when asked to practically strip down to my skivvies for security, I did everything as told again. I removed my shoes, emptied my pockets of anything metal and placed it all in the basket supplied. I ran my suitcase through the ex-ray machine and even offered my new cell phone at the proper time. My 36 year old money clip was in that plastic basket, as well. As it turned out, that would be the last time I'd ever see my money clip. When my personal items came out of the ex-ray machine on the conveyor belt, like everyone else, I rushed things back into my pockets, slipped my shoes back on and traced my belt through my loops, while hopping on one foot all the while. When finished, I played the role of a sheep and followed instructions to my gate awaiting take off.
I had already been seated and was waiting outside the rest room, about 30 minutes after take off, when I first placed my hands in my pockets, when I realized my cash was loose in my front left pocket. I probably looked pretty funny searching my front left pocket for my money clip, once I realized it was missing. When suddenly I had an "ah ha" moment when I realized that Homeland Security had confiscated my money clip, as it was rendered a threat to national security for me to be able to trim my nails while on board an airplane. You should all know that the world is now a safer place having me being disarmed by Homeland Security. You may all sleep better knowing that this 63 year old man can no longer hijack the plane with my 1 inch threatening blade. Good job, Homeland Security! The thing that really pisses my off is, that no one said anything to me. They simply stole it. Now I understand how they can sell these plane tickets so cheap. It's their side business selling money clips, that's supporting the airlines!
While in line for the airport security, I did everything I was told. I offered my driver's license along with my boarding pass and when asked to practically strip down to my skivvies for security, I did everything as told again. I removed my shoes, emptied my pockets of anything metal and placed it all in the basket supplied. I ran my suitcase through the ex-ray machine and even offered my new cell phone at the proper time. My 36 year old money clip was in that plastic basket, as well. As it turned out, that would be the last time I'd ever see my money clip. When my personal items came out of the ex-ray machine on the conveyor belt, like everyone else, I rushed things back into my pockets, slipped my shoes back on and traced my belt through my loops, while hopping on one foot all the while. When finished, I played the role of a sheep and followed instructions to my gate awaiting take off.
I had already been seated and was waiting outside the rest room, about 30 minutes after take off, when I first placed my hands in my pockets, when I realized my cash was loose in my front left pocket. I probably looked pretty funny searching my front left pocket for my money clip, once I realized it was missing. When suddenly I had an "ah ha" moment when I realized that Homeland Security had confiscated my money clip, as it was rendered a threat to national security for me to be able to trim my nails while on board an airplane. You should all know that the world is now a safer place having me being disarmed by Homeland Security. You may all sleep better knowing that this 63 year old man can no longer hijack the plane with my 1 inch threatening blade. Good job, Homeland Security! The thing that really pisses my off is, that no one said anything to me. They simply stole it. Now I understand how they can sell these plane tickets so cheap. It's their side business selling money clips, that's supporting the airlines!
Sardines in a Can...
Having just flown back from Florida, a plane trip that is about 3 hours too long for a man about to hit 64, I reflect upon something that is quite funny in hindsight. With some pretty bad luck, I was destined to fly from Ft. Myers, Florida to Atlanta, Georgia in that center seat that we all dread. It's the sardine seat that leaves you with your shoulders scrunched in and your elbows at your side in hopes of not making any physical contact with the dreaded human next door.
I was assigned seat number 20E, a rather benign seat assignment until you realize that you're about to be sardined between two perfect strangers. As I approached seat 20 E, I did the usual count down, 17, 18, 19, ah, there it is and sitting in the window seat is an extremely petite woman, quietly looking out the window. A woman about 55 years old, a frequent flyer as it turned out, that had already removed her shoes for the 2 hours fight to Atlanta. I announced, Hello, I'm your new roommate, as she smiled a warm hello and then proceeded to mind her own business, which was perfect.
As I sat there in my assigned seat, I analyzed who should be my next seat mate and as young pretty girls would pass me by, I'd think, "Hmm..., she would have been perfect", not over a hundred pounds, I'll bet. Strange how certain shapes take on a whole new purpose when you're shopping for a seat mate. Next was an over sized elephant, with a drop of sweat on his brow and his clothes disheveled and his carry-on bag coming open and I prayed he'd just keep walking. He did, whew! That's when I spotted him. He was enormous and he was doing the same countdown that I did, God no!!! He was travelling with his wife and fat daughter. His teenaged daughter was bigger than me and he was like the size of a doorway! What did I do to deserve him? 17, 18, 19, here he comes.... He smiled and sat down next to me. Both my petite seat mate and I went airborne for just a second from the impact of his sitting. He was about 6' 6" and wearing shorts and a jersey shirt with his favorite player's number on it, along with his baseball cap for travelling, you know, the good one..
At some point during our flight, my teeny seat mate offered me her uneaten peanuts and I declined. Then I heard the roar come from my other side, "I'll take them", he answered. The peanuts were passed to the giant and all was quiet again. When they announced that we should prepare for landing in Atlanta, about 2 hours later, I was one happy sardine!
I was assigned seat number 20E, a rather benign seat assignment until you realize that you're about to be sardined between two perfect strangers. As I approached seat 20 E, I did the usual count down, 17, 18, 19, ah, there it is and sitting in the window seat is an extremely petite woman, quietly looking out the window. A woman about 55 years old, a frequent flyer as it turned out, that had already removed her shoes for the 2 hours fight to Atlanta. I announced, Hello, I'm your new roommate, as she smiled a warm hello and then proceeded to mind her own business, which was perfect.
As I sat there in my assigned seat, I analyzed who should be my next seat mate and as young pretty girls would pass me by, I'd think, "Hmm..., she would have been perfect", not over a hundred pounds, I'll bet. Strange how certain shapes take on a whole new purpose when you're shopping for a seat mate. Next was an over sized elephant, with a drop of sweat on his brow and his clothes disheveled and his carry-on bag coming open and I prayed he'd just keep walking. He did, whew! That's when I spotted him. He was enormous and he was doing the same countdown that I did, God no!!! He was travelling with his wife and fat daughter. His teenaged daughter was bigger than me and he was like the size of a doorway! What did I do to deserve him? 17, 18, 19, here he comes.... He smiled and sat down next to me. Both my petite seat mate and I went airborne for just a second from the impact of his sitting. He was about 6' 6" and wearing shorts and a jersey shirt with his favorite player's number on it, along with his baseball cap for travelling, you know, the good one..
At some point during our flight, my teeny seat mate offered me her uneaten peanuts and I declined. Then I heard the roar come from my other side, "I'll take them", he answered. The peanuts were passed to the giant and all was quiet again. When they announced that we should prepare for landing in Atlanta, about 2 hours later, I was one happy sardine!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
22 Years and 150 LBS...
In or around 1988, three guys that were pretty good friends in high school met in Las Vegas for a mini reunion and we had a ball. We drank, got plastered, chased around and gambled. The same three guys that were so close in high school were still pretty good at having fun. We tried to keep in touch over the years, but with me in Arizona, Barry in Florida and Harvey in Connecticut, it presented a problem. This past week, those three crazy guys rendezvoused in Naples, Florida for a week of partying again, only the partying consisted of lunches, dinners and sitting around the pool. For some reason, the quality of our partying has subdued itself, pretty much without us trying to calm it down. For your viewing pleasure, I present those three guys, both in 1988 and 2010. I'm the only one that still looks the same..........right?
Thursday, March 4, 2010
A Slight Case of Alzheimer's...
One of the things that I still pride myself with is my memory. As time goes by, certain things slow down a tad, but my memory has never let me down....................until today! The story goes something like this....
In or around 1967, I dated a girl named Sheila Kosmeirski. Sheila was a girl of Polish descent, but was as lightning quick mentally and pretty easy to look at too. We dated for around 3 or 4 months and I really don't remember how we parted, but we did remain friends. One night in 1968, while out with my fiance' who later became my first wife, we bumped into Sheila at some night spot in Chicago, where we lived. We were already engaged when we ran into Sheila and my soon to be wife and Sheila really hit it off and my fiance' suggested that Sheila attend our wedding. With that "Holy Crap" look still on my face, I wholeheartedly agreed that it would be a GREAT idea! In my mind I was really thinking, wtf?
As time went by, we shot off an invitation to Sheila and low and behold, she actually attended, sans a date. The presence of Sheila went pretty unnoticed and we moved on with our life and eventually moved here to AZ in 1974, along with our 2 sons, ages 2 and 6 yrs.
One Saturday, my wife sent me to the grocery store for a few items and while browsing the isles completely lost, I happened past a woman that was deciding between Sugar Pops and Cocoa Puffs in the cereal isle. Suddenly, I stopped dead in my tracks, when I realize who this woman was, 1800 miles from where I expected her to be. It was Sheila! Neither of us knew what to say and we both explained how we wound up in a place called Arizona. Sheila lived with her new husband, a little guy that we soon met. We exchanged phone numbers and promised to call one another and get together with our respective spouses.
A few days later, we got together to go out for dinner and we met Tony, her husband. He was kind of a loud mouth type and my wife and I decided we didn't need to get too close with the new couple, in spite of the fact that we both liked Sheila. Years passed, about 30 of them and who do you suppose is involved in the class reunion that's taking place right here in AZ next month? Right, Sheila (formerly) Kosmeirski. Only we're both now divorced...
We start exchanging jokes online and occasional comments to one another. I like to write sometimes and Sheila edits writer's works for a living. She occasionally reads my blog and shares her thoughts with me, online... Today, we exchanged some emails and this is a portion of our exchange:
Me: Question, did you move to Scottsdale from Glendale? And yes I'll be your friend, actually I thought I always was??? I even invited you to my wedding, lol.. How the hell did that happen?
Dancing, not country and not so much. My heart surgery in 05 left me with compromised stamina for long periods of dancing. I tried dancing and it required a lot of breaks between songs, to breathe!
I'm leaving for Florida on Monday, but when I return, perhaps we can talk?
Sheila: So, I don't live in Scottsdale and I have not moved from where I am. I've been here since 1983 and wish I could get the hell out - back to Davenport, IA. For the record - I take everything for face value and now I realize that the story about us in the Alpha Beta over sugar pops is just a fantasy for fun! See, I am so gullible - aren't I. That's from being an Aries. Call me before you go to Florida - I want to argue with you.
Right around this time I was suspecting something was wrong. Why is it that she doesn't remember bumping into me in the Alpha Beta at Tatum and Cactus? I called her!
Not only did she not recall going to my wedding, but she never lived in Scottsdale with Tony. Then I started thinking, "Well, it's finally going"! My mind had let me down. I remember things that were actually a different way than I recall. I wondered if I was getting Alzheimer's. By this time, I was hardly listening to anything she was saying... I asked her if she had to wear a back brace after breaking her back in her sophomore year and she said, no she never injured her back. Things just weren't making sense to me, duh!
While still trying to make sense out of my memory completely letting me down, I heard her say, almost though a fog, "Maybe you're thinking of the other Sheila Kosmeirski that went to school with us! WHAT, that's right! There WAS another girl with exactly the same name as my Sheila and that's who I was talking to on the phone and by the way, we talked for 2 full hours. That's when I realized that the reason that I stopped dating the first Sheila was because she was kind of dull. This Sheila had a GREAT personality and was full of life and according to the photo that she sent me, fared pretty well over the years. Actually she looked pretty damned HOT!
You can probably imagine what I'm thinking. I didn't do so well with the first Sheila Kosmeirski, romantically and now I get to try a "DO OVER"!
In or around 1967, I dated a girl named Sheila Kosmeirski. Sheila was a girl of Polish descent, but was as lightning quick mentally and pretty easy to look at too. We dated for around 3 or 4 months and I really don't remember how we parted, but we did remain friends. One night in 1968, while out with my fiance' who later became my first wife, we bumped into Sheila at some night spot in Chicago, where we lived. We were already engaged when we ran into Sheila and my soon to be wife and Sheila really hit it off and my fiance' suggested that Sheila attend our wedding. With that "Holy Crap" look still on my face, I wholeheartedly agreed that it would be a GREAT idea! In my mind I was really thinking, wtf?
As time went by, we shot off an invitation to Sheila and low and behold, she actually attended, sans a date. The presence of Sheila went pretty unnoticed and we moved on with our life and eventually moved here to AZ in 1974, along with our 2 sons, ages 2 and 6 yrs.
One Saturday, my wife sent me to the grocery store for a few items and while browsing the isles completely lost, I happened past a woman that was deciding between Sugar Pops and Cocoa Puffs in the cereal isle. Suddenly, I stopped dead in my tracks, when I realize who this woman was, 1800 miles from where I expected her to be. It was Sheila! Neither of us knew what to say and we both explained how we wound up in a place called Arizona. Sheila lived with her new husband, a little guy that we soon met. We exchanged phone numbers and promised to call one another and get together with our respective spouses.
A few days later, we got together to go out for dinner and we met Tony, her husband. He was kind of a loud mouth type and my wife and I decided we didn't need to get too close with the new couple, in spite of the fact that we both liked Sheila. Years passed, about 30 of them and who do you suppose is involved in the class reunion that's taking place right here in AZ next month? Right, Sheila (formerly) Kosmeirski. Only we're both now divorced...
We start exchanging jokes online and occasional comments to one another. I like to write sometimes and Sheila edits writer's works for a living. She occasionally reads my blog and shares her thoughts with me, online... Today, we exchanged some emails and this is a portion of our exchange:
Me: Question, did you move to Scottsdale from Glendale? And yes I'll be your friend, actually I thought I always was??? I even invited you to my wedding, lol.. How the hell did that happen?
Dancing, not country and not so much. My heart surgery in 05 left me with compromised stamina for long periods of dancing. I tried dancing and it required a lot of breaks between songs, to breathe!
I'm leaving for Florida on Monday, but when I return, perhaps we can talk?
Sheila: So, I don't live in Scottsdale and I have not moved from where I am. I've been here since 1983 and wish I could get the hell out - back to Davenport, IA. For the record - I take everything for face value and now I realize that the story about us in the Alpha Beta over sugar pops is just a fantasy for fun! See, I am so gullible - aren't I. That's from being an Aries. Call me before you go to Florida - I want to argue with you.
Right around this time I was suspecting something was wrong. Why is it that she doesn't remember bumping into me in the Alpha Beta at Tatum and Cactus? I called her!
Not only did she not recall going to my wedding, but she never lived in Scottsdale with Tony. Then I started thinking, "Well, it's finally going"! My mind had let me down. I remember things that were actually a different way than I recall. I wondered if I was getting Alzheimer's. By this time, I was hardly listening to anything she was saying... I asked her if she had to wear a back brace after breaking her back in her sophomore year and she said, no she never injured her back. Things just weren't making sense to me, duh!
While still trying to make sense out of my memory completely letting me down, I heard her say, almost though a fog, "Maybe you're thinking of the other Sheila Kosmeirski that went to school with us! WHAT, that's right! There WAS another girl with exactly the same name as my Sheila and that's who I was talking to on the phone and by the way, we talked for 2 full hours. That's when I realized that the reason that I stopped dating the first Sheila was because she was kind of dull. This Sheila had a GREAT personality and was full of life and according to the photo that she sent me, fared pretty well over the years. Actually she looked pretty damned HOT!
You can probably imagine what I'm thinking. I didn't do so well with the first Sheila Kosmeirski, romantically and now I get to try a "DO OVER"!
Monday, March 1, 2010
Moving Out of the I-10 Underpass...
In 2008, after being dropped repeatedly by Alltel service for no reason, I cancelled my contract, with them begging for me to come back. Eventually I was handed over to "Extreme Customer Service", who actually offered me $150 to return to their company, sighting my 12 years of faithful bill paying. I explained that I did my part by paying the bill, but I was repeatedly without service, thus my decision.
Not wanting to sign up with a new 2 year contract with a cell company that would give me equally poor service, I heard about Cricket, that did not require a contract. It was a month to month plan, but after I sunk $300 into a new phone, I kind of felt like they had me. Soon after my very first phone call I realized the service was poor at best and everyone agreed that I sounded like I was calling from within a tunnel. Eventually, I started explaining that I lived in the I-10 Underpass that was built several years ago and the acoustics are poor, but the rent was great! As time passed I started to just accept the poor reception and transmission features of this service and stopped even mentioning it. Then this past fall, when I took a trip across country, I discovered that Cricket did not have ANY service as soon as I left Phoenix. It was truly the hometown cell company. All of the way to Chicago and back, I carried my Cricket phone as a paper weight, because it sure as hell was useless for a telephone. With my upcoming trip to Florida next week, I was hoping to secure service with a different company and alas I did.
Today I moved from my home in the underpass of I-10. I now live with the wonderful world of AT & T with rollover minutes. I bit the bullet and caught up with the 21st century by purchasing a Blackberry phone. I have the Internet and vibrate and ring tones and minutes. Now the only way I can miss a message is to claim I lost my phone for awhile, because my service with be more than adequate. Hooray for Blackberry and AT & T. I never rally liked living in that tunnel anyway!
Not wanting to sign up with a new 2 year contract with a cell company that would give me equally poor service, I heard about Cricket, that did not require a contract. It was a month to month plan, but after I sunk $300 into a new phone, I kind of felt like they had me. Soon after my very first phone call I realized the service was poor at best and everyone agreed that I sounded like I was calling from within a tunnel. Eventually, I started explaining that I lived in the I-10 Underpass that was built several years ago and the acoustics are poor, but the rent was great! As time passed I started to just accept the poor reception and transmission features of this service and stopped even mentioning it. Then this past fall, when I took a trip across country, I discovered that Cricket did not have ANY service as soon as I left Phoenix. It was truly the hometown cell company. All of the way to Chicago and back, I carried my Cricket phone as a paper weight, because it sure as hell was useless for a telephone. With my upcoming trip to Florida next week, I was hoping to secure service with a different company and alas I did.
Today I moved from my home in the underpass of I-10. I now live with the wonderful world of AT & T with rollover minutes. I bit the bullet and caught up with the 21st century by purchasing a Blackberry phone. I have the Internet and vibrate and ring tones and minutes. Now the only way I can miss a message is to claim I lost my phone for awhile, because my service with be more than adequate. Hooray for Blackberry and AT & T. I never rally liked living in that tunnel anyway!
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