Even the cows stopped eating to watch me pass

To say I moved to rural America would be an understatement. I am considered a "county resident" due to the fact that I live in this thing called "Out in the country." We do, however, have many neighbors. Mostly bovine. I'm not much of an expert on them so I'll just say some are brown, some are black, some are white, and some are mixed. I'm sure they are all quite tasty.

Have you lived around cows? They are about as docile and lackadaisical as an animal can be. Complacence is king in the world of the herd. It takes more than a car crash to get the attention of more than one or two stragglers. Calves are, of course, a different story. They are full of life, vim, vigor, and all the stuff little boys are made of. They hit a magic age and it's like they started hitting the magic hookah. They no longer want to play reindeer games. such is the life of a cow.

This evening I had the full attention of hundreds of cows for quite some time. Not all at once mind you, I wasn't going that fast. I took a ride on my bike. It's nice to be able to enjoy a bike ride. Bike riding was my childhood love. I still love it. I'm not fast or good but I enjoy it as much as anyone can. I wonder if the cows will continue to stare.

An open letter to Fiona Apple

Dear Ms. Apple:

I am writing to you today to convey my gratitude for your many recordings. The range of your voice and diversity of the instruments make every song a unique pleasure. Your risqué topics and oft-sultry voice offer a glimpse into your mind like no other performer shares. In closing I look forward to many more songs from you.

A fan:

The guy from Three Word Slogan

P.S.

Renaming a vehicle

I've never renamed a vehicle. I think most of my vehicles have had names or at least nouns associated with them. I had a '76 or '77 Monte Carlo that was "The Floater" due to its odd suspension that made you feel like you were kind of floating. Could have been bad shocks and tires that show metal threads, but all the same that is what I and collectively, we, called the car.


My first car didn't have a name so much as a phrase. "Have gas; Will Travel" was what it was fairly widely known as. That came from a keg party we were at in BFE (actually near Kushequa, Pennsylvania) but I digress. This story isn't about the names of cars, this story is about renaming a car.


When I started looking at Jeeps on the internet I decided if I wanted one it had to be white, green, or yellow. When building my vehicles online I like to choose the white ones because I think it gives a better picture of the car. Digressing. When the dealership called me (wtf was I thinking putting my real info on that form?) and said he had a used one that fit my profile, I told him I wasn't interested in used, I'd wait for a new one. Sorry, I'm in a tangentianal mood this evening. Getting to the point, I bought a new white jeep wrangler unlimited. I decided to call it Daisy because I have a little bit of redneck in me.

Daisy never seemed to fit, since I never referred to the vehicle in conversation in that manner. I didn't have any other names picked out so it just stuck.

Tonight the wife was having a hard day and just needed some quiet time so I asked the kids if they wanted to go outside and play before it got dark. The oldest took me up on it but the youngest was busy with some cartoon or other. The oldest, we'll call him Thor, came out and went straight to the jeep. I've never had any problem with the kids playing in there and they know this. Thor climbs in the driver's side and the youngest, we'll call him Noah, comes to the door wanting to come out and play.

Once Noah figured out where Thor was he wanted in too. I took the keys out and put it on accessory mode so they could listen to some radio. I showed Thor how the scan button works and he let it run its course through the dial several times before they opted for the CD that was in the player. Coincidentally the cd is Kiss - Destroyer (1976). This is the year their mother was born and it contains the song God of Thunder (and rock and roll). This was originally slated to be Thor's middle name (God of Thunder and rock and roll) but the wife said she'd give me Thor if she could pick the middle name (well it was a group effort) BUT I DIGRESS!

After about an hour or a little more of silence in the house, just having to look out every now and then and listen for any car doors (we're rural enough that if there's a car door in earshot, people are looking out to see who it is... or to see what the bull is doing to the telephone pole.) Much loving silence, kids content as well... kids in a jeep, and a wife that got some peace. Well, it led to a new name for the jeep. I've even designed a logo.





I dub thee: PlayPen.

Framed, a bit off the mark

As you might have guessed by my little sidebar over there I like to read books. Actually I listen to most of them but you know, 6 of one, half dozen of the other. Tonight I finished listening to Framed by Frank Cottrell Boyce. Here's the publisher's blurb about the book.

A few things to know about Dylan: He is the only boy in his entire Welsh town, so forget about playing soccer. His best friends are two pet chickens. His family owns the town's only gas station/coffee house: their pies are to die for, but profits are in the hole. Criminal instincts run in his family: his sister is a mastermind-in-training, and the tax men are after his father for questioning. And one more small thing about nine-year-old Dylan: the crime of the century has just fallen into his lap. With the same easy mix of wit, warmth, and wonder that made his debut novel, Millions, an award-winning international best seller, Frank Cottrell Boyce tells the story of a boy who reminds an entire town of the power of art.

Before I start picking it apart I will say that I enjoyed the book and may listen to it again someday. It is a nice tale about a boy who tries to help where and when he can but doesn't always think things through. Sometimes he thinks things through just fine but is persuaded to go against his wishes.

My first problem is the book is considered a children's book. It didn't read like anything of the sort. My version of a kid's book is The Mouse and the Motorcycle. This wasn't that. I suppose a kid could read it but I'm not sure what they'd take away from it.

Next up is the publisher's blurb. It is on the other side of the pond so not one time in the entire book is the word soccer used. It is football over there and that's what they call it. In addition the tax men were not after Dylan's father. The insurance men were. They thought he set up an insurance scam to claim on his Mini Cooper S like was in the Italian Job but it turns out they were wrong. They go on to say the family has the only gas station/cafe in town which is technically true but it leads one to believe it is the only gas station in town and this is not true. To top it off, Dylan has two pet chickens but it isn't like he sits around and gabs with them. They aren't friends, they are chickens and Dylan is a 9 year old boy. The chickens are mentioned several times in the book but not because they were out playing a bit of footie together or anything like that. Their names are the important part and that's about it. I think whoever wrote the publisher's blurb should put down the gin and read the book this time around.

The book did leave quite a few unanswered questions, and some that became questions early on in the book. I found myself wondering why the characters weren't wondering the answers to the questions themselves which brought me to the conclusion that the character development wasn't as strong as it could have been. Yes, Dylan is only 9 years old but when one's father disappears for weeks on end even a 9 year old would question where he is a bit more than these characters did.

In the author's defense it was a well thought out story. It was a tale I hadn't heard previously and it's getting to be difficult to come up with such things with everyone writing all the time. It had some colorful characters that took one's mind off the underdeveloped characters and kept the story moving along. A main theme of the book was change and the characters did do that well. It was very entertaining to see how each of them were changed.

All in all it was a good book, but there are a few things off the mark.

(Re)Learning the rules

In my effort to move more than Shakira in her "My hips don't Lie" video I have uprooted the family yet again. I don't think there's any surpise in this so I won't try to beat around the bush. I hated my job so I found another and moved. Incidentally, I have worked for the new employer before. It was during the dot com (dot bomb) days. It was a good job and I was a database administrator. I enjoyd the work but I saw the end of the dot com before it actually ended. There were some poor decisions made and I tried to get them to change their ways to no avail. I've had about 5 years to ponder it and at this point I pretty much just see it as a stock pump and dump routine. I know a lot of people made a lot of money but I just made my pacheck. My options never matured before the crash so I was left without the Mercedes, the houseboat, the house on the golf course. I learned a lesson though and that's what counts. This time around we're not dealing with publicly traded companies so I at least don't have to worry about that. I just have to worry about the rules.

I moved to a very rural part of America. They have their own customs and ways, and I'm ok with that. I think during the time I was away I sort of romanticized the area. I forgot the odd or bad things and exaggerated the good things. I'm like that most of the time, I prefer to accentuate the positive. Sometimes maybe too much. I know, you wouldn't think that would be the case from reading my rantings on here but hey, I promise its true. One rule that I remember clearly is when there is a funeral procession you don't only give them the right of way... you pull over. And remove your hat. And wait until it is fully passed before continuing on your merry way. I feel like I've already told you that. I feel like I know you so well. Perhaps we should skip the formalities and get down to what we came here for... Oh wait, my mind was wandering. Another rule is that seatbelts, and children riding in carseats, while still the law, are both optional. Just yesterday I saw a minivan with captain's chairs in the front. In the driver seat was ...well... the driver. In the passenger seat was a woman and a toddler. Not the first time I've seen that around here. I'm old enough to remember riding in the front seat as a youngin', riding all over without seat belts, and all that. I've decided my children will remain buckled into their 5 point harnesses in the back seat where they're out of my hair. ...and, well, safer. Another generally accepted rule dealing with driving is the optionalization of turn signals. Typically around here if a turn signal is used it gets the opportunity to blink but one time. There doesn't seem to be any sense in turning it on too soon because they might wear out or something.

So how am I doing? Well I'm getting noticed. People are starting to be able to recognize me.
them: "Who are you again?"
me: "I'm the guy who wears the seatbelt.
them: "I kindly know a few people like that."
me: "I'm the guy that uses his turn signal."
them: "OHHHHH, yeah, I've seen you."