It's our government at work

I just realized it has been over a year since I wrote something, probably longer than that since I wrote something significant or important!

We have had to evacuate from a hurricane, have a 40 foot oak tree removed from our roof, raked up 8 feet of debris from our yard, and have a new president about to take office in January!

In the midst of all that, I received correspondence from our US Government, specifically the office of Social Security. If no one else can find you, trust me, the office of Social Security knows more about you than you think.

Their request letter included good news, they know my birthday although this is the first birthday card I have received from them that I recall. (Also if you forget your birthday they can help with that too!)

Their birthday card invited me to a meeting, sounded like they have like an open birthday celebration planned for each of us before our birthday for like 3 months. As with all good socialist programs this one comes with a penalty if you don't show up for the party!

Even though I can't get the "full birthday party package" for another 365 days I do get to open "one package" early (kind of like Christmas eve at our house but different).

Ever been to a party that was for you but everyone else seemed to be in control? Then you will understand. Since Hurricane Ike forced the "party center" aka Social Security Office to move from Galveston to League City the exterior is more festive than before.

When you enter the party center the greeter is not wearing a clown costume but is wearing a gun, he is the first and major level of security for your party. He has a look that assumes you know exactly what to do, where to log in electronically for the party, etc. As I had this "deer in the headlights" look he directs me to log in for the party. There are two rooms with excited folks seated in them, I asked (when no direction is given) where my party might be, he points me over his shoulder.

Because my party is celebrating the coming of "Medicare" I have a number coded slip of party paper which I find is designed to throw up in the air like confetti after a length wait.

The next party group to greet me asks for lots of personal information (which I find later they already know) and then informs me that it looks like I have not contributed to the party fund for several years. I am still overwhelmed at the large group of folks that have come to my celebration so I stumble over the answers trying to explain how complicated my life has been since moving to Texas..........This produces lots of suspicious looks (everyone that works here has been trained to be extremely adept at this suspicious look thing at the appropriate times).

Well, by now, my festive mood has been dampened somewhat. I have yet to see any cake, but assume gifts and snacks will be in the other party room. I am beginning to feel that perhaps somewhere along the line I may have done something to deserve the suspicious looks and begin to search my mental past....after further questioning I realize my mental has passed!

I am also noticing that others that have apparently been invited to a party of their own look a little suspicious as well. It's kind of like you know you paid the pre-party fees a long time ago but they either lost it or don't really want you to have it. Probably one of the strangest feelings I have ever experienced but I am still convinced the party center has my best interests at heart.

Next I am moved to the second level party room, "wait there, someone will call you" is the code word. I'm thinking they must be gathering all the party-goers and decorating the room, rolling in the cake and presents, my festive mood is returning!

Pensively I am waiting (always wanted to use that word, not sure what it looks like but the security guard was watching me so I think I pulled it off).

I now hear my official name echoing in the halls and am met by a smiling gentleman who is obviously in charge of my party activities. After a warm greeting I am asked for my identification (they don't want to celebrate the wrong person's party here). To be able to get my presents I have to answer a series of questions, many of which are designed to test my memory of my work history. Do you know what you were doing in 1971? How about 1985? These are flying at me like party favors on steroids! This group has also been training the SLM (Suspicious Look Method), festive is fading from me again.

I am also asked multiple times if I understand that my answers are required to be truthful and there is a penalty under the law if I misrepresent anything. (You don't want to be lying about your age at this point!)

Well, after being offered my "Full Party Package" early, I decline and tell them I only want to pick up my early gift. This gift is unveiled and I realize that I get the gift in a few months and I will be billed for it right away.

It was one of the strangest pre-birthday parties I have ever been invited to. The cake apparently was delivered to another address and my fellow celebrants had all developed that SLM (Suspicious Look Method) as I departed.

Hopefully for the "Full Package Party" which is upcoming I'll be able to take some of you with me to celebrate!

Roadent Rage

The Driver of the Big Rig and Team Rudyard the Roadent Rage

The 26 foot rig with a secret passenger

The Players in this blog are pictured above. The actual #2 player is somewhere in Georgia still looking for "his ride". Pictured above for #2 is an actor who agreed to play the part for this blog.

No, I did not misspell rodent. If you know me, you know misspelled words drive me crazy, yes, even mine!

My new life that I started this blogging thing with has also given me a new geographical location. Leaving the exciting, adventurous location of South Carolina (more importantly the Tar Heel state across the border, home of the best college basketball team in the NCAA and tasty "slaw" dogs) I find myself in the "Lone Star" state, where everything is bigger and better, and farther away, etc. better known as Texas.

After being "temporary" for about 2 1/2 years we were forced to make a decision for "permanent" through no fault of our own.

19 years of residency in one household in the Palmetto state had come to an end and the plan for relocating all 19 years of "stuff" was in full swing.

Well, as you can imagine my first call was to U-Haul to rent a truck. The process, if you have ever done this, is not a normal one. There are no normal U-Haul rental locations and the clientele surrounding you there are not normal either. In fact, you actually have to dress in "u-haul" renting attire to carry out this process!

The next step is climbing up into the 26 foot U-haul truck that will be home for you and the 19 years of stuff over a 2 day period. Yes, you are correct, this vehicle is not to be driven by your wife. She will follow safely behind you or at times will join in the "let's pass the U-haul truck club" that knows you do not drive this thing for a living! This club's motto is "see if you can get the old guy rattled and make his truck swerve".

Now parking this thing in your driveway for the "upload" process is of course not normal either. Arriving on my street, seeing the size of the driveway and noting that I have to back it in produces the first signs of sweat that will be "standard" for me over the next two days.

So....the loading part was pretty standard also. That's where you start out with a plan, invite lots of friends over that you feel you can abuse for several hours and realize that they really don't care about your plan and they are having secret meetings in the truck to speed up the process at the expense of some of your most "prized" possessions!

Since this turned out to be a two and a half day trip, I will skip to the part where we actually take the 26 foot loaded U-haul to the roadway lest this be a two and a half day blog read!

Day One is a late day trip to a spot slightly West of Atlanta. Even though the pucker points are up to around 10 going through Atlanta with the 26 foot truck, it is deemed a successful start.

Our hotel selection is interrupted by an Atlanta police officer who asks if we are aware we are staying at a Saturday night drug dealer's party hotel and suggests that my wife and grandson might be more comfortable about 2 exits farther down the interstate. Wisdom imparted, wisdom received, we moved on down the road.

Day Two starts fairly calmly. I am now thinking of myself as a "seasoned" big truck operator, smiling and waving to my "compadres" in the 18 wheeler category. This feeling quickly turns to the highest pucker point rating yet as I am squeezed between 18 wheelers and bridges and other vehicles. It suddenly comes to my attention they have no respect for AARP members operating "big rigs" carrying personal stuff!

I am becoming more comfortable in my newfound "big rig" position. I find that fear seems to subside if I do not look to either side while crossing overpasses and long narrow bridges. I take on the thought process of "what you cannot see cannot harm you". (Please do not try this at home nor pass along to small children !)

Outside Atlanta, racing downhill in the left lane, traveling 75 MPH, passing a line of cars suddenly a sound of "splat" (if you have ever watched cartoons you will recognize this sound) on my windshield. I immediately think this "blob" has come from the big rig in front of me, I recognize the object as a large rodent (similar to the one picture above though unarmed).

Assuming the long flight and sudden stop has rendered him heaven bound, I am marveling at how this happened. Suddenly, Rudyard is looking directly at me through my windshield. I note his size and how his fur is blowing in the wind of 75 MPH. I am still in the left lane trying to pass traffic and assuming the strategy posture (pucker points 12.75). Rudyard now realizes he can move and travels across the left windshield wiper to the right one. He pauses to make sure I am still controlling the big rig since his safety now depends on me!

Back across the windshield he comes, suddenly he disappears. My first thought is he has blown off the hood, but suddenly he looks back at me from the lip of the hood of the big rig. He then crawls back into darkness. Another thought flashes across my mind, perhaps he will find the engine of the big rig and leave me forever.

I am now pulling to the right of the road, on my cell phone to my wife following behind who recognizes the sound of panic in the "big rig" driver. The dash is entirely black underneath and I realize Rudyard may be able to join me in the cab! (Pucker points now at 15). My co-director for this trip informs me we can't stop here, can't get out and must go to an exit! None in sight, I begin driving again, now finding it difficult to pay as much attention to the road as I am to the area under the dash.

Finally, an exit ahead, Rudyard and I pull off the road into a large parking lot at a Chevron station. I quickly (need I say that) exit the vehicle. I now realize the underneath portion of the dash seems solid enough with no apparent entryway for Rudyard.

It is time to open the hood to see if Rudyard has become a new barrel on my carburetor! A thorough search by the Big Rig Team finds the area clear, as I start to close the hood, my grandson and I spot a furry ball just under the windshield area. Rudyard is still with us!

My wife (though raised Catholic has had some detailed Pentecostal training) begins to pray Rudyard to a different place, I am extolling him to go somewhere as well though not as prayerfully if you know what I mean.

Rudyard leaps from the Big Rig and heads towards the curb about 50 yards away, he is a little confused and runs headlong into the curb, bounces off and now heads back towards the Big Rig!

He's trying to rejoin us. My grandson and the prayer warrior (my wife) jump into the car, I jump back into the Big Rig. We circle the station and as I head for the highway, there he is, Rudyard in my path! My primal instincts kick in as I bear down on Rudyard, he escapes into the grassy area. As I look back it seems that he is leveling the bazooka at the Big Rig or is it just my imagination?

If you were able to get through this post to this point you need to know the rest of the trip was not as eventful. Standard stuff, unloading a 26 foot truck of stuff into a house designed to handle less than we brought, dressers falling over on me and slicing open my ankle resulting in a 5 hour ER stay and 5-6 stitches. Just your standard move to the Lone Star State!

Mark Your Territory

So I was thinking the other day about how someone told me once that when you get old you start looking like your pets sometimes. I never have liked that thought but have from time to time seen cases where it might be somewhat true. I don't have a pet of my own but on occasion will have a "loaner" that stays with me. So far I don't think anyone morphing is taking place. Don't you love that phrase?

Anyway back to the thought that hit me. I was taking out the garbage recently and realized that my neighbor's pet cat had "marked" my garbage can as his "territory". This is a strange thing that cats are apparently famous for and since I have a "loaner" dog have found that they sometimes mark things as well. Piles sticks on the side of road, limbs that have fallen in the yard, any new object that invades their "territory" is subject to being "marked". A lot of the fun in this is going back and sniffing where you "marked" to see if anyone else has been there or tried the infamous "overmark" Did I mention this requires lot of liquid intake on the part of these animals? A dry "mark" is just not very cool. Although I am not very well versed in this art I do know that some garbage cans require "re-marking", just based on my experience with my own garbage can the cat next door.

What really brought this activity to my mind was a neighborhood restaurant that I frequent a lot. What I mean by a lot is if you go to this place more than 6 or more days in a week (yes, that would be the whole week possibly) and eat 8 or more meals there, that's a lot. Also, if you come in and the cook begins cooking your order before the cashier has your order then that's also a lot. And if the cashier just nods and you nod and give them the exact change, then that is consider a lot as well.

What also happens at a place like this is most of the time, especially early in the morning, the people are all the same ones at the same tables that were there yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, well you get the point.

Now there is another man and his wife that frequent this place very often, like a lot, you remember what that means. And sometimes he will actually "mark" his territory. Not like lifting his leg or anything but perhaps a toss of the keys to the table in the corner or a toss of his hat to the table in the corner, or he might just point his wife that way while he moves toward the "territorial purchase", which is also always the same.

What I noticed about the neighbor's cat, and my "loaner" dog is that when they have committed to the "mark", do not put your foot anywhere near this spot. Once a commitment is made, it cannot be stopped or interrupted. So, this is true also of some humans. Though not as damaging as getting ones foot under a "committed mark", there is still the same attitude that prevails. Sometimes a "look" is as powerful as a urinary committed mark.

These animals are very particular about their "marked" spots and I observed this to be true with some humans as well. For instance, this particular shopper requires a special treat in his purchase, "one pickle only". After one particular day of "marking" and purchasing, I observed the chastisement of the producer of the meal for "not remembering one pickle means one pickle" and being required to remake said meal.

So, be careful when you see your neighbor's cat, your "loaner" dog, or "marking" going on at your favorite restaurant. Sometimes if we don't start looking like our animals, we may at least start acting like them!

New Life Begins at 60

I keep having these "new life" beginnings lately. I never thought much about "new life" until at age 60 circumstances beyond my control caused me to enter a "new life" versus a phase of the old one I had been living. I recall a "new life" moment when I entered into a spiritual transformation or at least accepted that I had "been provided transformation 2,000 years ago" and started on that journey. More about that later.

At age 60 this "new life" moment came to me and has made me think more about how I had been living my old life. It seems that I thought you kind of blast through much of life, then you get a little tired and then you get a little cautious because you realize how short this thing could be and then you really slow down!

Well, not so.

This blogging thing is pretty new as well. My daughter, who is really cool, says it's s like an online journal. So, until I find this may not be the whole of this thing, I'll go in that direction.

I am a Tar Heel fan transplanted to Texas by circumstances not under my control. So I have now coined "TxTarheel" as a new identity.

This is a tough time of the year for a Tar Hell fan, baseball is now over (#2 in the nation again after falling apart defensively against the Oregon State guys). Basketball is still a long way off and we have the interim season called football at most places. Maybe this year we will be good enough to get the basketball fans really interested!

Anyway, I'm looking to this new "blogging" thing where I can aimlessly ramble about things I never used to write down!

Like the house where I live in Texas has these huge oak trees that provide massive amounts of shade that reduce the utility bills but also provide for interesting things like 25 to 30 feet limbs that just drop onto the house and the yard at various times. Never during a storm and we have some big storms in Texas (cause everything is bigger in Texas) but at quiet times or in the middle of the day after you have walked underneath one you see the 25 foot limb where you just were.

At this stage in life I'm finding that lots of things I never thought about make me a little paranoid. Like those limbs. So now instead of just walking around the yard or walking to the car or walking the dog, I find that I look up more! I examine limb structure more, I listen more carefully to sounds that seem to be above me.

Anyway after parenting 5 children (I used to say raised but then realized I had not raised some of them fully) to where they now have different addresses my life partner (sounds cooler than my spouse, my wife) and I find ourselves involved in the day to day world of an 11 year old grandson. We are parenting (the sequel) yet another gift of life God provided to us in a tragic way.

I used to hear about PS2, XBox, and potential seizures associated with the extended play of them. Now I find myself on the brink of one of them while trying to beat Most Wanted or GT Racing on Wii!

It seems like just a short time ago that I was reviewing my Social Security benefits that might be coming and now I am in Target looking for the latest Wii release.

So, rambled enough for this time.