Tomorrow Things

   When I was a kid, 1920 was ancient history, as was the decade of my parents’ birth, the 30s.  Likewise for the 40s and 50s.  Films of those times fascinated me, probably much like early explorers viewed the artwork on the walls of Egyptian temples and tombs.  Now in 2020, I wonder if my grandkids, who will no doubt live to see the 22nd century, might view my time just as olden.  Probably, but becaus

Favorite Snack

   The only scene I like in the movie “Baby: Secret of the Lost Legend” (1985) is when George Loomis, played by William Katt, exchanges food with the leader of a local tribe, and after one bite of the granola bar Loomis gives him, the leader spits it out from the side of his mouth.  I’m sure his character thought it was too sweet.  Lately, I know the feeling.

Projects and Theory

   Sure, sure, I installed the new sink and faucet in the kitchen, and added three full shelves in one of the shrunks in the garage and replaced the four short wire shelves in the hall closet with deep lengths of plywood (both for my wife’s canning supplies and storage of pickles and such), and made a new attic door (really just a cover) so I could get rid of that crumbly rectangle of flocked sheet rock—I used two sections of three-quarter inch lightweight pressed, with hinges so I can fold it, and handles so I can hold it.  Also this last week I covered

Items of the Fifth Element

   Item: I just discovered I have creepey neck skin.  (I prefer to spell it creepey.)  I was giving myself a headcut (the proper term for both scalp and face) and was trimming the two-months’ worth of longish hairs on my neck when suddenly my Wahl barber shears nicked me right above my Adam’s apple.  Thinking it was my fault, that I’d pushed too hard, I continued and again felt the sting of nipped skin.  Now absolutely sure it was Wahl’s fault—I needed to buy a new set of sheers—I reangled the cutting edge and very, very carefully drew blood a third time.

Chopped Eggs and Ham (Part two)

  Years after basic, I was enduring the annual training as a medic, not my MOS or even secondary or third job at all, but anyone in the medical field had to know how to apply bandages, tourniquets, use the autoinjector on myself and others, and perform CPR, and such.  That year, after additional courses on identifying Russian tanks and aircraft, we were forced to undergo the combat medic exercise of rescuing the survivors of a downed helicopter.  The last time I had such fun was during my second month in basic when I had to crawl under rows of barbed wire

Chopped Eggs and Ham (Part One)

 In 1968 my dad drove us from Florida to California, because he had been stationed there.  We had a metallic blue van, and my dad turned the front back seat around so that it faced the rear back seat, put a length of plywood across from seat to seat, covered it with padding, sheets, a blanket, and pillows, and that’s where we kids (me, my sister, and brother) spent the long journey.  We played board games and worked word puzzles, but mostly we stared out the windows and slept.  On the floor under the plywood is where my parents stored our suitcases.  Back

Memorial Day Eve

   I finally took the flat tire off my car late this morning, after over a month of letting it sit in the driveway.  Turns out it wasn’t a loose, flapping edge of the wheel well that was shredding the rubber, as I thought, but the exposed wire mesh of the bald inner treads that was hitting and tearing up the back end of the plastic wall.  My fault for not rotating, I guess.  I admit I’ve enjoyed not being tasked to drive somewhere, but now I’m annoyed with being stuck at home during my wife’s workweek.

The Appendectomy Club (Part one)

   Recently my granddaughter’s boyfriend, Little James, had his appendix out.  I text her to tell him: Welcome to the Appendectomy Club.  And really, I suppose we should start a club for that.  After I had mine out, I read up on it.  Back then, the appendix was considered a vestigial organ that at some point in human evolution was part of the digestive system but now only does one thing, cause appendicitis.  Lately it’s thought that perhaps it produces good bacteria for the large intestines—since it’s located at the junction of that and the small intestin

The Terrible Land of Snoz

When my grandkids were little (the second batch is now 14 years old) we watched The Wizard of Oz.  It used to come on between Thanksgiving and Christmas, on network television, back when I was young, and continued to do so for many years later.  But this Spring I discovered it playing on some cable channel and I recorded it.  A few days later I tried to watch the famous movie, but I couldn’t; it was out of place in my world. I deleted it before it turned color.