A Christmas party at an old folk's home is quite a sight. There is a new executive director here, though, and she seems to have given it a valient try. The band was actually pretty good - two guitars, a drum set, keyboard, and clarinet. They played all the s standard Christmas tunes and some folk classics. Last year all they had was one guy screeching out solos, accompanting himself on a keyboard.

Santa made his obligatory appearance. They need to either gert a new Santa suit and a new beard, though, or dry clean the ones they have, 'cause Santa was looking right scruffy.

The amusing part about this attempt at Christmas glee is the way the old folks react to it - or, rather, the way they DON'T react to it. They all just sit around in their wheelchairs and look at the band. They don't smile, they don't talk, they don't sway to the music or tap their feet or hum along - nothing. They just stare at the band.

Rain! What a pain!

Most folks do not like the rain,
In fact, they think it sucks.
I think NO ONE likes the rain,
Except, perhaps, for ducks.



“Never run in the rain with your socks on.”
― Billie Joe Armstrong

What did Santa Claus’s wife say during a thunderstorm?
Come and look at the rain, dear.

What kind of umbrella does the Queen of England carry on a rainy day?
A wet one

Why do mother kangaroos hate rainy days?
Because then the children have to play inside

There was a communist named Rudolph. One day he looked out the window and said, “It looks like a storm is coming.” “No it isn t,” said his wife. “Besides, how would you know?” “Because,” he responded, “Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear.”


I think that maybe the rain has rotted my brain!





Hmmmmm... I just found a reason for hope!

Winchester, cont.

Back to Winchester...

Sue swears the parsonage was haunted. She was 2-6 when we lived there, and can remember sitting calmly on her bed and talking to two children with red hair that floated around outside her window. Not to put too much stock in this, but we WERE immedialely up the street from the hospital... and it WAS a really old house with lots of history...

But, come to think of it, both of her older siblings DID make her watch Dark Shadows every afternoon.

It was a pretty, nice, moderate sized house on a good street. The house had a great front porch, on which we played "Lost in Space"


I was always Dad or Don, because I was oldest. Ed was Will Robinson. Jennifer Costello was all the women. Sue, being youngest, was the robot.

Winchester

Back to parsonages-

After Roanoke, we moved to Market Street Church in Winchester. Market Street Church had been through the Civil War. Church ownership changed from North to South dozens of times - often even several times a day. There were bloodstains on the wooden steps up to the balcony, because the balcony was used as a hospital. The walls of one of basement Sunday School rooms wouldn't hold paint. Freshly applied paint immediately peeled off, because, during the war, blocks of salt were stored in the room.

The house was old. We had two stories containing 4 bedrooms and an unfinished basement.

The basement had two rooms. One was a big room with a tile floor. It was fairly dark and dingy. The other room had a dirt floor, and, according to my parents, had once been a root cellar. Considering the civil war history of the church, however, we children preferred to believe that it was a secret confederate cemetery. We dug for bones on many occasions, but never found any.

The house was fair sized. It had both a full formal dining room and an eat-in kitchen. There was room in the living room for my piano, which we bought with Dad's wedding money.

It was a nice old house. You could tell it was nice because it had cut glass doorknobs. It had 4 bedrooms, so we each had our own room. (Granny didn't live with us then.) Methodist parsonages are furnished. My room had a great big, antique double bed with a huge headboard and a huge old chest of drawers and a large bureau with an attached mirror. Having been totally self-absorbed at that age, I have no idea what kind of furniture my siblings or parents had.

Never again! I promise!!

If you don't believe-- in God, in the Nature Spirit, in Kismit, in Buddha, in Tao, in Allah, in Krishna... if you believe there is no power out there to judge you or to keep you on the straight and narrow, then have I ever got a story that's going to make you quake in your booties!

I wrote a fairly mean blog post last time, detailing an unfortunate, embarrassing incident which will never, ever be mentioned again, but which happened to my saintlike mother. Immediately after I'd published the mean post, I browsed, went to an infected site, caught a horrible virus, couldn't use the computer, and paid Geeks Mobile USA $150.00 to fix it. (Ron had said he'd look at it when he got back in town, but I was impatient...

So, if you know what is good for you, respect your mother.

New house Roanoke

I think I'll go back to writing about the avarious parsonages we lived in while I was growing up.  I was writing that series a couple months ago, and it seemed to be slightly amusing (as parsonages usually are!).  Apparently, however, I had not gotten very far into the series, because I seem to have ended it in "old house Roanoke", which is a place in which I lived from ages 6 to 8.

"New house Roanoke" was a lot larger and more suitable for our growing family.  Ed had his own room, and Granny always had her own room, so I guess we had 4 bedrooms... unless, that is, they perhaps turned some small room that wasn't supposed to be a bedroom into Granny's room.  They did that sometimes.

All I know for sure is that I HAD TO SHARE MY ROOM WITH THE DRATTED BABY!!  Can you believe it???!!!  How could my parents have forced someone as special and as adorable as I was to share a living space with an annoying little baby?

We had an outdoor patio attached to the house. It was a concrete slab with a steel grate that surrounded it and no roof.  I firmly believed that, if my parents really loved me, they would enclose that area and make it into a bedroom for me.  When I played on it, I would deccide where to put all my furniture.

The house was located on a steep hill in what was known as the Round Hill neighborhood.  We were about halfway up the hill.  One of my earliest memories is of poor Mom getting out of the car on an icy, snowy day, and slipping, and sliding on her rear end through several streets worth of yards and pavement. 

Hairspray

I went and saw Hairspray at the Signature Theater this afternoon. It was fantastic. The music, dancing, singing, and acting were all great. It was a whole lot of fun.

If you've what "Hairspray" is, it's a musical about a plump teenage girl, Tracy, who dreams of dancing on a local TV dance show. When Tracy dances on the show, she becomes an overnight celebrity. She then manages to integrate the show. (This takes place in the early '60's.)

In the movie, John Travolta played Tracy's mother.

Signature is where I went and saw "The Hollow" back in October. I did not like that show much, but I think it was more that I actually didn't like the show itself, as written, rather than not liking the production.

I just re-read yesterday's entry, and it consists entirely of an extravaganza of superlatives! I guess that is what happens when I vent my enthusiasm enthusiastically.

Today I braved the mobs and went to Ballston Mall.

No, contrary to the picture, I didn't go to buy stuff. I went to the movies. Massive droves of other people had come to the mall, though, and my assumption is that they had come to shop. The aisles between stores were "plum full" of people. There were even a lot more people in the movie than there usually are.

The movie I saw was "The Descendants. It was excellent, but rather depressing. George Clooney is so adorable, however, that looking at him always cheers me right up!

Thanksgiving dinner

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving! It was an old time family Thanksgiving, just like we've had my whole life. Ron had it at his house, and it was absolutely lovely. Mom and Dad and Sue and I came, as did our dear friend Martha.

Ron's house was beautiful - very tastefully decorated. I haven't been in there since David passed way, but Ron has done wonders cleaning out and simplifying, making the space very livable, comfortable, and attractive.

Dinner was wonderful - turkey, gravy, dressing, rolls, green bean casserole, squash, pumpkin and apple pies, Whipped cream.

Dinner was great, but mainly it was great to have all of us gathered around a big dining room table! We could have all eaten at the Hermitage, but it isn't even close to the same. Ron, thanksgiving was wonderful.

Ron set a beautiful table, too, with the good china and plate chargers and fresh flowers.

Thanksgiving

It's Thanksgiving eve, so I think I'll do a carol.

TO: Hark, the Herald
Angels Sing

Serve the bird with hot dressing,
Gravy covers everything,
Candied yams adorn the plate.
All this food will sure taste great.
Then we nap quite leisurely
While the game plays on TV.
Pilgrims, did you have a clue
What we would do to honor you?
Now that Thanksgiving is done
The Christmas season has begun.

bed

I got my new bed today! Doesn't it look comfortable?


I'd been sleeping on an old hospital bed. It was not a good hospital bed, either. It was just a 3" thick foam mattress covered with plastic that lay on a hard metal frame.
I got the junk man to haul the old bed away. They took the old bed away before the new one came. It felt really strange to send my only bed out the door!

Mom initiated this and purchased the bed. That was really nice of her.

Although I'd "fall asleep" on that old bed, I never got a deep. restfull night's sleep. In fact, I think I've been going through life exhausted, because I fall asleep every time I sit in one place for long. Now if I'm in church or at the movies, that's fine. At least I guess it is. I don't think I snore when I just snooxe. But when I'm on Metro Access? It certainly proves how tired I've been, that I can fall asleep in the bumping and jostle and noise of metro acces.

late October lament

Wow, it sure is cold out. What a bummer. Time to dust off the scarves and mittens.
I bought a new winter coat this year. I really did need it... I have heavy, bulky coats that would be fine in a blizzard, but I didn't have a nice, ligtweight coat I could wear all day. I think last year I wore my leather jacket, but the jacket isn't all that warm.

You know what? Come to think of it, I used to have a full length leather coat. I wonder what ever happened to it? In all the moving and breaking up the apartment and all, I just kinda lost track of stuff.

It will be interesting to be here on a busy city street and see what happens in the snow. At Sunrise, I looked out on a big field and park, which was pretty, but not much fun. Here there is heavy traffic, and people walking up and down the sidewalk all the time.

There is a great place for chili, Hard Times Cafe, down in Clarendon, which is just one metro stop from here. That will be fun in the snow.

I think I'll call this essay "winter is here, so grow up and make the best of it."

dinner

I usually don't eat here, except for breakfast. Breakfast is fine. One can always get eggs or cereal, and toast, and danish, etc.

Lunch is supposed to be the big meal of the day. Since lunch comes in the middle of the day, I find that I am usually out doing something else at noon, and therefore do not eat here.

By the end of the day, at dinner, I am just so fed up (ha, ha - get it? "Dinner" and "fed-up"?) with this place that I'd rather go anyplace else in the world to eat. There is a great place that serves "choose your own" ingredients salads called Sweet Green that I love. There is also a pizza place right down the street.

But tonight, alas, it was rainy and cold. I spent the day getting to, seeing, and returning from the doctor. So I decided just to eat here. Alas. The main course was a fish paddy (like a square fish stick), 0n a dry bun, with a piece of American cheese and a small handfull of limp French fries. I asked for catsup to go with the fries, and was told they don't have any.
Here are some places to eat that might be better:

Verna

Personality Profile -
Verna
Verna is one of my aides. She works the 11PM-7AM shift. I work with her alot, because she is among the crew that puts me to bed at night and is also amember of the crew that gets me up in the AM.

An older, thin woman, Verna is good-hearted and honest and tries her hardest - which is sort of what makes her so gently funny. Because, in a way, Verna is sort of really out of it. Her conciousness is usually out looping around the universe somewhere. She's has a laid-back, cool personality, but cares adamently about the well-being of her charges. It's just that, a lot of the time, she has no idea what it is that they actually need.

One of the unique things about her is the way she communicates. She is from Jamaica, and speaks an "island" English which is difficult to understand. As a matter of fact, though she may talk and talk, no one ever has the slightest idea what she is saying. Which she seems to just take calmly in stride...!

Once she gets a correct phrase in her head, though, she uses it over and over, with appropriate variations. For instance, the crew uses a lift machine to lift me out of the wheelchair and put me in bed. Once they lower me to the bed, Verna always says, "good landing!" One day they let me loose too early, though, and I fell to the bed from about two feet up. As I lay there, shocked and suprised, Verna looked down at me, and "crash landing", she calmly said.

Although Verna doesn't look or act old, Joey, a fellow on her shift tells me that she is in her 60's. She has an afro wig with long rings of black curls. Joey says he has seen her without her wig, and she has short, gray hair.

commitment

It was commitment Sunday at church today. Commitment Sunday is the Sunday when the congregants tell the church the amount of money they promise to give over te coming year. Being a preacher's kid, I know this estimate of giving is very important to operate the church effectively. If they never knew how much money they planned to have, they couldn't hire people or plan programs or incur debt. So when people say they don't pledge because they just "give as the spirit moves them", then they are just closing their eyes to reality.

I, however, plan to give money when I can, but did not pledge. So shoot me.

Dad's sermons on Commitment Sunday were always so intense that they blew the roof off the sanctuary. I remember one Sunday dinner, I think when we were at Dulin, when Mom told Dad, "Your sermon was so good that I put down $5.00 a week more than we had said." Dad went totally ballistic. He was furious, and said, "Honey, why did you do that? We talked about this! We decided how much we could afford!", and she said, "It was just such a convincing sermon.".

Dad was always an incredibly good preacher. He had a Palm Sunday sermon that was so good that congregants from a church he'd served in the past once traveled to his current church to hear it again. He had an illustration for his "suffering love" sermon that was so gut-wrenching that he had to warn us kids each time he used it, or else he knew we'd be in tears. (He repeated sermons we'd heard before after we would move to a new church.)

The gut-wrenching illustration is:
A little boy moved to a new town, and was given a little tiny puppy by his parents. The boy and the puppy loved each other. They played together for hours at a time, they cuddled together in bed at night, and the puppy followed the boy everywhere.

Then one day the boy had a horrible day. The other kids teased him. The school teachers yelled at him. His mom slapped his cheek for misbehaving.

When the boy got home that night, he slammed angrily into the house. The happy little puppy came leaping to greet him and jumped up on his leg. "Get out of here!" the boy shouted, kicking the puppy across the room.

The puppy yelped as it flew through the air. It hit the opposite wall and slid to the ground. The boy collapsed on the ground in tears. His tears were soon dried by the tongue of the puppy, who had limped over to him and was licking his face dry.

brrrrr

It's real cold outside now, although it was temperate weather all day. I guess that is what one should expect in November in VA. No one ever knows what to wear. There are folks outside in hats and gloves, and there are young guys with shorts and no socks. Although that seems to be the fashion, now. Young men go out in raging snowstorms wearing running shorts and no coats. That seems crazy to me. Do I sound like an old fogey?

Rip-off

Emeritis is screwing me over. They have raised my "care level" rating to "6", which is the highest level and which is absurd. Level 6 also costs tons of money.

I do not get, or need. Level 6 quality care. I receive help from their care managers basically only when I get up, shower, dress, and go to bed. There are people here who need help to eat, and need help all day throughout the day. That is the type attention that deserves Level 6.

In addition, Emeritis is requiring that I hire a private aide to get me up, shower, and get dressed. Emeritis is not pleased that I get 5 showers a week. The standard here is only 1(or 2?)showers a week, but the salesman who got me to move here from Sunrise promised 5 showers. That is what convinced me to move. Now the Director says, "That was before my time, so I'm not responsible for that."

I feel that Emeritis really gets a free ride from me. It is quite rare that I'm even here during the daytime. I try to stay awway as much as possible. The Care Manager Supervisor even admitted as much, saying, "We would have required a private duty aide during the daytime, too, but we realized that you usually aren't here in the daytime, and we couldn't have the aide just sitting around."

Seems to me that, if I'm off on my own all day every day, I obviously don't require level 6 assistance!

In my opinion, they are ripping me off big time. My advice to anyone with assisted living needs is to STAY AWAY FROM EMERITIS!!!

Because or this, I complained to Sue that I have a limited amount of money and that this will make me run out sooner. "What will I do when I run out of money?!", I lamented.

"We'll just shoot you," she said.

Election

Last Tuesday was Election Day! Wow! It sure is strange to participate as a regular voter. I found my polling place with no problem. It is the Arlington County Art Museum across the street. All the politicos were lined up along the street, handing out literature. One of the political volunteers led me to the wheelchair accessible door, showed me the elevator, put me on it, and then pushed the button for the wrong floor, thereby sending me on a merry tour of the museum!
She must have been a Republican!

All was just as it should have been in the little, tiny polling place. Arlington uses the Winvote, machine whereas we in Falls Church had chosen the Accuvote.

Scarbourgh Fair

I turned on "Scarbourgh Fair" (Simon and Garfunkle), and, boy, does that ever bring back memories. The album was already old back when I was in college. The poetry ofthe songs just seemed to speak to me me. (Unlike later Paul Simon work. Me and Julio says nothing to me.)

There was this guy, Jeff Freehof, who traveled around to the various bars on the Corner and played guitar and sang Simon and Garfunkle songs. I knew Jeff from the drama department, and often went to see him. Sometimes Bobby Tyler, my soulmate at the time, and I went together.

I'll do a seperate entry about Bobby some day. I could do a 7 part mini-series about my adventures with Bobby. Huh, Lloyd??

My last Simon and Garfunkle story is that David knew that I loved them. Not too long before David got sick, Simon and Garfunkle came to Baltimore on a concert tour, and David and Ron and Sue and I got to go see them. Like, wow....

bison meat

Susan Craft and I went to Teds Montana Grill fot dinner last night. It is the restaurant stared by Ted Turner. They have lots of dishes featuring bison meat. They also have a great big, dirty, hairy buffalo head hanging on the wall. That really grossed me out. Seafood restaurants often have big, dead fish hanging on the wall, but they don't have dead cows that watch you while you eat hanging on the wall in steak places' Yeech!

Gertrude Stein

I went to the National Portrait Gallery today to see the Gertrude Stein exhibit. I dunno... I kinda don't see the point of a museum exhibit about a writer. It seems like the definitave word bout an author stands in the work the author shares.

Probably the assumption behind such an exhibit is that the atttendee is already quite familiar with the author's written work. Like, I can see attending a Mark Twain exhibit. But, in my case, this was sort of my introduction to Gertrude Stein, so I just didn't get it. I see from the Portrait Gallery web page that there is a symposium about Stein all day on Friday. Maybe I'll read more of her work by then and decide to go.

A FRIGHTFUL RELEASE

by: Gertrude Stein (1874-1946)

BAG which was left and not only taken but turned away was not found. The place was shown to be very like the last time. A piece was not exchanged, not a bit of it, a piece was left over. The rest was mismanaged.

"A Frightful Release" is reprinted from Tender Buttons: Objects Food Rooms. Gertrude Stein. New York: Claire Marie, 1914.


One quotation from her they were selling on all kinds of paraphanelia in the gift shop is "There is no there there". I think I'm going to find out that I like her!

Trick Or Treat?

It's Halloween. As a child, Halloween meant candy and excitement. I remember selecting a costume with care, and putting it together with appropriate wings or wand or whatever, donning a mask, and feeling enormously proud of myself. Then I would grab my bag, eager to get outside, and WHAM!! Mom caught me and made me put a sweater on over my charming or spooky outfit.

Trick or treating used to be lots of fun for kids. Considering the danger nowadays, I bet nobody lets kids go out alone anymore.

They had a costume contest here at the old folks home. The lady I eat breakfast with won. She wore all yellow, with a Peanuts characters print on her pants. My favorite care manager is dressed as a Raggety Ann doll. This isn't really her.

WOW!

WILD! This is a totally awesome story that's kind of paranormal!! About a year ago, while living at Sunrise, I woke up one morning and looked at the wall beside my head and was startled to see a centipede crawling along. It was just inches from my face. As I watched, the centipede crawled higher and higher, eventually ensconcing itself in a corner.
I lay in bed and watched it diligently until a care manager, Melita, arrived, on time to get me up.

"Melita!", I said, pointing at the long bug, "Kill it! Kill it!!"

Melita is one of the nicest care managers I've ever known. She comes from the Philippines.

"Oh,no," Melita said. "That's a centipede. Back home, everyone knows a centipede brings money and is good luck."

"Money?!" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "If you see a centipede, maybe you will get rich." If she had been telling me that cockroaches were good luck, I probably wouldn't have bought it, but centipedes were negotiable.

"OK," I said, diverting my attention from the insect. I paid no more attention to it, and assumed it went on to enjoy a long life with it's many legged family (who, I hope, were not also residing somewhere in my room.

When the mail came that afternoon, I had a check from my long term care insurance for a significant amount of money.

Along time went past. No more centipedes appeared.

Until yesterday morning, that is. I woke yesterday morning to see a centipede scurrying, it's many tiny little legs carrying it rapidly up my wall.

When the mail arrived, I had a check from my long term care insurance for a significant amount of money.

WOW,

Smithsonian

I went to the Smithsonian the other day and had an amazingly wonderful time. But, alas, the Smithsonian was not at all where I intended to go! I had asked Metro Access to take me to the National Portrait Gallery. I wanted to to see the Gertude Stein exhibit. The reservationist screwed up, apparently, and put in the address for the American History Museum. So, instead off Gertrude Stein, I got to see an exhibit about Phyllis Diller. As Phyllis Diller herself would say, HA!! Do you think that maybe my guardian angel decided that Phyllis Diller was more appropriate than Gertrude Stein?

At the American History museum, though, I got to see an exhibition that is only here through the end of the month, "For All The World To See: Visual Culture and the Struggle for Civil Rights". It was fascinating, covered the ways in which the civil rights struggle in America was implemented through the use of visual images in the media.

After that, I went across the sidewalk to the Natural History Museum. They have a really fascinating exhibit called "The Evolving Universe", which studies the beginnings of the universe and the ways it is always changing, with stars being born and dying...... Hmmmm..... Stars dying?? Which me wonder... Is Phyllis Diller still alive?

sightseeing

The Iranians and the "Take Back Washington" screwed up my Saturday. It was a lovely day to be downtown aightseeing, but my Metro Access driver , when hearrived, said that he thought it would be a mistake to go down to the Smithsonian because, "The Iranians are protesting, and traffic is all tied up, and it will take hours!! Also, the Tea Party. And Occupy Wall Street is marching, too. It's a mess!!"

So I didn't go. Bummer. What I was planning to seem, the Phyllis Diller exhibit at the American History

Not under construction

Ron sent an e-mail immediately after my last post saying that I don't need to buy expensive software to mount a web page. He says that I should go to the Google free website page and make one there for free. He told me this a while ago also, but I decided to take the class just because I thought it would be fun to take a class. It was, but apparently I learned nothing. This communication from Ron was wonderful for 2 reasons: 1) I'd forgotten the advice that he gave me. I will give making a free site on Google a valiant try before I buy something. 2) This communication was yet further proof that someone reads my blog! The counter I've installed on the blog's front page goes up numerically every time someone hits on my site, but I always manage to convince myself that the visitors were just me, editing the last entry.

Probably, "marketing wise", this has been a horrible blog entry. A blogger is probably supposed to convince readers that they are but one of an abundant trove of other readers...

...which you are, of course. The day is not far in the future when my name will be as commonly recognised as Oprah... or Ellen... or Steve Jobs... I'm afraid that the only thing I have in common with Steve Jobs is that I like apples. (apples, alas, not Apples.)

If at first...

Well, I finished my "Build and Maintain Your Own Website" class last week after 8 sessions. It is supposed to teach one to build one's own website for free on Tripod. I tried for many hours yesterday, and I can fly to the moon about as easily as I could build my own website.

So that was money well spent. I guess I'll try again tomorrow.

Or maybe I'll buy Dreamweaver tomorrow!

Cowpokes

Lloyd sent me a great picture:



This photo was taken at "Ghost Town in the Sky", a tourist trap that is the re-creation of an old time western town. It is in Maggie Valley North Carolina. We (Lloyd and Sister Sue and I and Brother Ed and some girl Ed was dating - this was right before Dayna)went there on a nostalgia trip in about 1987. That is when this picture was made.

One of the coolest things about Ghost Town is that it is on top of a great, huge mountain and one has to ride a precarious, steep cable car 1,250feet straight up the mountain cars to get to it.

(I know neither of those people, but it is a good shot to show what the chairlift is like.)

At the top, the park was divided into several areas. Among these are the "Indian Village", "Mountain Town", and "Mining Town". The heart of the park is the re-created old Western town complete with a two saloons, a schoolhouse, bank, jail, and church, and various other businesses typical of the day. Each hour, a gunfight is staged right in the street. "Famous guest stars" often play the cowpokes. Once Tony Dow was there, and I got his autograph. Wonder where it is? There is also a "saloon show" every hour, with dancing girls.

We Taylor kids had been going to there all our lives because Mom and Dad so often took us to Lake Juneluska on summer vacation. Both Lake Juneluska and Ghost Town are in Maggie Valley North Carolina, which is in the Smokies. There are many funny stories that I can, and will, tell about those times, but one is that we often went to Juneluska with Dad's friends and their families - another clergy family. One year, the father of the other family was a pompous jerk. Mom got mad at him because he never tried to have fun with his sons. Mom finally talked him into taking the chairlift up Ghost Mountain. When he was halfway up, there was a cloudburst. The operators stopped the lift, and he just had to sit in the rain until it stopped. Mom still talks about it with great glee!!

WOW!!! I had a stupid, small, untrustworthy, wobbly glass desk from Staples
But yesterday, my friend Lloyd
came up and put together a new desk he had purchased for me from Office Max

Isn't it a wonderful improvement? It's much bigger, too. I'm real psyched!! I didn't know what to do with the old desk except to trash it, and Lloyd had every intention of taking it apart, but now one of the evening care managers says she wants it, so that's nice!

More about Bob

I decided to tell you more about Bob Edwards, the guy I wrote about yesterday. Here is his picture, along with Sue. They are in my office on election day.

It was Bob's nasty, decrepit dogs that provoked the incident with the naked fat man which I told you about in an earlier post.

Bob came from a wealthy family in Staunton, and was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. In DC, he became "comptroller" of a major company and was quite wealthy himself.

He went to school at William and Mary, which he considered vastly superior to Virginia.

One of Bob's major interests was choral music. Although he never knew David well, he was fascinated by David's job. At the time, David was a full-time music minister.

One of Bob's activities was that he was a member of the DC Gay Men's Chorus. He also had enjoyed being a member of the National Cathedral Men and Boys Chorus. Though he got in a disagreement with the direector and quit the chorus, he was well thought of at the Cathedral. His memorial service was held in in one of the small chapels. After the service, we all released helium balloons in his honor. I think he would have liked that.

Bob

It's a beautiful "Indian summer" day
(get it? That's an Indian tattooed on the arm, and it is summer! HA!HA!)
At least it is a beautiful "Indian Summer" day if I really know what "Indian summer" means. It is sunny, and 75 degrees, and it is October. Does that qualify as Indian summer??

I scooted down the street to a nearby park. They had a craft festival today. A bunch of vendors put up tables selling their jewelry or pottery or needlework. I managed to restrict myself to buying only a necklace - - but, you know, the fair is still going on... It is right across the street... I actually need a bracelet... You know, to go along with the necklace.......

This really is a nice little festival. They've held them every Saturday all summer, but I just heard a vendor say that this was the last one until next spring. Bummer.

I guess fall is legally upon us. I made my annual arrangement of pumpkins and gourds and I put it on the shelf outside my door in place of the ugly fake flower arrangement that Emeritus puts there. (No, they didn't say that I could do that - so arrest me, why don't you?!)

Back in the olden days, I made such a fall decoration for Bob Edwards, my AIDS "buddy". This was back in the horrible times when an HIV positive diagnosis meant you'd probably be dead in a year. Whitman Walker set up a program where healthy volunteers were "buddies" with a person who had AIDS.

Bob was my buddy. I'll have to tell you about him some day. He was a character.

Anyway, he loved it and kept it proudly in his living room. When he went to the hospital at the end, though, some of his friends took it apart and found that the pumpkins had developed "weevils".

Class

Arlington is just SO COOL! I'm sitting in a an outdoor plaza in Clarendon, waiting for a class in the Adult Ed building down the street. I have Wifi because I'm outside a Barnes and Noble. A guy just drove past on a segway. It's all just a fun, relaxed urban situation.

The class I am in is called "Build Your own Website". I'm afraid that I'm basically the scourge of the class. We are learning to build a
website on a free site (I'd tell you which one, if I could only remember!) The teacher is this amazingly intelligent man who is real low key and makes these wonderful hand outs that, alone, are worth the price of the class. I could really go back through them at my leisure and, with luck, maybe actually build a site. I haven't accomplished a whole lot this attempt, though, because I sort of started out behind. In the 2nd class, I found that I'd forgotten both my password and my site's name. Because of this, I'm always playing catch- up. The instructor has been quite good- humored about this - he now writes "wiite down your site name and password!!" in red ink, on every handout!

Poor Sue

Sue had an operation on her back today. She threw a vertebrae out of place on that damned roller coaster
in Dollywood.

Sue seemed to be doing real well. She even sat straight up in bed to drink water out of a cup, which sort of amazes me, right after a back operation. They plan to let her out tomorrow.

Poor Mom, it turns out, went to the emergency room last night because her arm was aching so bad. It has been aching for a couple months. I still don't know what they decided was wrong, and neither does Mom, but they put her arm in a sling... which she wasn't wearing when I called just now - aaarg!!

Productive Day

I rode my little wheelchair all the way to Lab Corps to get a blood and a pee test. Fancy people may call it a urine test, but I lost my fancy a good while ago. Luckily, though I lost my fancy, I did not lose the bottle containing my pee test.

The trip through Arlington was quite nice, and it was a beautiful day. I stopped on the way back and ate at "Rio Grande", which has fantastic Mexican food.

It is too bad that I spent such a lovely day doing medical stuff, though. It is all for a new doctor, and, as far as I'm concerned, there is no reason for these tests whatsoever. I, of course, know best. Just because she went to medical school for 8 years, she isn't the boss of me. After all, I could have gone to the National Gallery and seen the Warhol exhibit

But no...! Poor, pathetic me had to drive around outside in beautiful weather.

Virtual rain

I just got an email from a friend saying "Do you plan to start your blog again?". My answer was, "yes, I plan to start again, if I still have readers. I've had real problems here - serious even to the extent that I called in Adult Protective Services and the Assisted Living Licensing Board, and I haven't felt very comical. But that's over, so I'll give it another go!

Or, rather, I will in a minute... Now I have to drink beer and watch the "Prohibition" documentary on BBS.
Deb

Dinner

I sat at dinner with 2 women I didn't know. Basically, I sat there because one of then women is named Mildred (like my mother). A young male kitchen employee stood nearby, occasionally smiling at us indulgently. The the other woman at the table Is named Mary. Following is the conversation which ensued:
ME: Can I join you?
MILDRED and MARY: Yes! please! Join us!
MARY: The man who was sitting there left already.
MILDRED: He sure did leave in hurry. He didn't even have any ice cream.
MARY: He was probably jealous.
MILDRED: He said he didn't feel well...
MARY: He had no reason to get upset...
MILDRED:...I hope he's O.K....
MARY:...there was absolutely nothing I could do about it...
MILDRED: He always loves his ice cream.
MARY: It's not my fault that cook kissed the top of my head.
MILDRED: Well, no. He just leaned over and smooched you right on the head.
MARY: I know it was a great big kiss, but that's no reason to get mad.
MILDRED: Well, no! You didn't ask him to kiss you.
MARY: He had no reason to get mad, anyway. We eat together every day, but we have no understanding. It's not exclusive.
MILDRED: You couldn't do a thing about it!
Etc

fall

It's "Back to School" time for sure. There are many indications of this, but, in my humble opinion, the most welcome of these is the change in the weather.

Heat and multiple sclerosis DO NOT MIX! When I'm hot, I'm a basket case. (No comments, please, about my normal condition.) As a matter of fact, it was being hot at the pool that initially dramatized my MS symptoms to the point that I could no longer ignore them.

To avoid heat induced illness, I keep my room here quite cool. It drives all the little skinny Ethiopian women caregivers crazy. I'm the one who has to live here, and they are just here for 15 minutes, so I don't worry about it... which is yet another reason why I'm so popular around here.

Finally, though, fall weather is moving in. It is to be only in the mid-40's and high 65 to 69 degrees tomorrow. (Does anyone know where the little degree symbol is on the iPad virtual keyboard?)

Another "Back to School" indicator is the fact that I began a new class today. It is offered by Arlington County Adult Education and is called "Design your Own Website". It teaches, not only how to make a site, but also how to publish it, as well as how to make it more visible to search engines.

It will be really fun and challenging to "re-create" a page like the one I used to run. This page was named "Write to Order". On it, I sold custom written nonsense verse or alternate song lyrics about anyone or anything. Customers told me the nature of the verse they wanted, and I e-mailed questions about the theme. People read or sang these verses at parties and tributes, or made the poems into greeting card. I used a service called "PayPal" to deal with all the money collection. PayPal, in my opinion, was well worth the small fee charged.

The problem is that the ISP went out of business, and the page just disappeared. Yes, I do have it on backup disks, but I can't figure out how to publish it again. I think I really just luck that I ever got it published in the first place. My ISP was named ABC, because that was the first one listed and I didn't know how to differentiate.

Anyway, I don't want to put the same page back up. I want something fresh.

I made a few sales with the old site, including about 50 songs/poems for birthday or retirement events. I even wrote a whole series of poems for a girl's Bat Mitzvah. I had a job then, though, and didn't have much time for advertising or promotion. Now I have tons of time, so maybe I can make a go of this.

I think the funniest thing I wrote was for a woman on her first anniversary. She wanted a song to sing to her husband at their first anniversary party that made fun of his three old girlfriends, and she told me a prominent flaw about each of them. I wrote the song to the tune of "The Aadams Family"' and it went something like, "They're creepy and they're kooky, They're ugly, dumb, and spooky, They're altogether ooky, The girls Fred used to date"

Lest we forget...

On the day after the 911 10th anniversary, I had a sobering reminder that I do, indeed, live in Arlington. There is a guy here that I've always just thought about as an "Old Coot". He has no teeth and wild hair that sticks out in clumps. I've never really spoken to him except to say, "Hi, Mr.Finch. Glad you are home from the hospital.".

On 9/12, I went in the sitting room here to read the paper, and found Mr. Finch at the table. He had a whole stack of lined white writing paper and was looking at the 911 commemorative issue of the Post. He was writing furiously, and had a small stack of pages of neatly written notes. Always eager to stick my nose where it doesn't belong, I said, "Hi! What are you writing?"

He pushed aside the stack of newspapers about 911 observations and said, "I don't want to ever forget."

I said, "Were you at the Pentagon?"

He said, "I was retired. That plane hit my office. My whole department died." After discussion, he further said, "I lived in a high rise near Watergate, right across the river. I went out on the balcony because I heard the plane coming in so low. And then I saw it fly straight into the Pentagon."

Wow. Sorta brings the whole day back to life, doesn't it?

Dubious

OMG - there is a show on TV called "The World's Smallest Man". He is a full grown male only 27" tall. His name is "Edvard" He is on a big stage now, in a white' sequined tux, singing and leaping about, and occasionally throwing himself on the ground.

OK - back to reality. They had a "Back to Sunday School" picnic at church which they called a "tailgate party". It was in an abandoned parking lot in the shopping center where the church is located. This was not a real good idea. It was very hot. The only shade was under a big canopy some members brought, and there was no grass, so the kids had to play on asphalt.


On my way over to the picnic, as I passed Safeway, a skinny, dirty guy who was collapsed on the sidewalk said, "Help the homeless? I haven't eaten in 2 days.".

So I said, pointing to the picnic, "Come to that our picnic down there. We have lots of food."

I went on down and I saw the homeless man at the picnic, eating burgers and a bIg plate of salads.

After the picnic I was back at Safeway waiting on the bus. I guess he didn't recognize me, because h said, "help the homeless. I haven't eaten In 2 days.".

I said, "I just saw you eating at the picnic."

He said, "I didn't eat that. I'm allergic."

I said,

go away, rain

Is it ever going to stop raining?? (I actually knew a boy who played tuba once. I was in ninth grade at Colonial Heights High. I went up to Dad one evening when he was picking me up after band practice, and I said, "Can we take home Forest and his instrument? He lives on our street." Poor Dad said, "Sure", and he's still talking about it 30 years later.)

The news last night showed flooded streets and abandoned cars.
so I should really stop feeling sorry for myself for being in a warm dry place. Well, sorta dry. There is a major water leak in the living room. right under the @##%ed bird cage. Maybe, with luck, the birds will get washed into the Potomac.

I hate those birds. When the company comes weekly to clean and vacuum the cage, I keep hoping they will vacuume up the birds by accident.

duck weather

I HATE RAIN!!!!

I've been in this iccky room all day. I has poured all day, and it is supposed to rain all day tomorrow, and maybe Friday, so you can visit me at the looney bin, room 1.

Adios!

Sort of a bummer of a day today because I had to say "goodbye" to 2 people from here that I like. Which is about 99.95% of the people here that I like. Oh, wait - I just thought of 2 more people that I like. So lower that percentage a bit, will you?

One of the people that left today, was Joey, my favorite care manager. He works the overnight shift, so he's the main caregiver who gets me to bed at night and who gets me up in the morning. He's a young black man, American, who works hard and who really cares about the well being of the residents and of the other employees. He's medium build and height with a complex tattoo on his lower arm and with long, braided "Rastafarian" hair. This is picture of the type hair he has, but not of him. Joey has a very affiable attitude, and is quite easy to talk to. He's married and has a daughter and son he adores.

Anyway, he'll be back in two weeks - he just went on vacation.

The other person was a fellow that lived here named Wayne. All he ever did was bitch and whine about how much he hated being here, so maybe I'm actually glad he's gone.

Navel

I'm sitting in a little park area next to Emeretis right now and musing - just kinda "contemplating my navel".  It is just an empty lot that Arlington has paved with bricks and in which they put two benches and three picnic tables.  It's actually very pleasant this evening, even with all the traffic moving up and down Wilson Boulevard.  The weather is perfect - probably about 70 degrees, slight cool breeze, no chance of precipitation.  Great evening to sit here and contemplate my navel.

It's an "inny", by the way.

Hummm...  I wish I had a fuzzy one.  Navel, that is.

Today was my last creative writing class of this semester.  It could have been a good class, except that I never put in the time required to write stuff.  So, as a result, I'm going to take the class  again.

This time I'll do better.

I found a piece of paper this afternoon.  It was a print-out of a blog entry that I'd turned in to my creative writing class.  The teacher had written on the page that she liked the fact that I started each blog entry with one topic and stuck with that topic through the entire entry.

I wonder if that same concept applies to navels?

emergency

All I've done all day is watch the hurricane on TV. A hurricane is raging. Right now, 8/26/2011. I believe I've become closer emotionally to Al Roker than I am to my actual familly.

---------------------------
NEXT DAY
We all lived through the weather emergency. Mom called and said they were OK. It happened when everyone was asleep, so, unless you had continuing power loss, you wouldn't have noticed it even happeneed. I bought a deecorative scented candle and a LifeGear Glow Mini LED Spotlight - the closest one could find to candles and a flashlght on the night before the storm. So, since I was prepared, the power stayed on.

Stormy

Major hurricane approaching! I went by Mom's and Dad's place, and they ought to be fine. A Hermitage employee stood up at lunch and said that they had enough extra food to last for 5 days and said that anyone with specific needs or concerns should contact the office. Here, on the other hand, they have said nothing. I wonder if they realize that a possible disaster is imminent?

I went to the CVS to try to get a flashlight and batteries this afternoon, and that was a laughable situation. There was a carton that contained batteries laying decimated in the aisle, stripped of all DD batteries. So I guess that all I can do now is hope that the lights don't go out. I think, however, that the likelihood of that is nil.

Natural disasters are a major bummer.

They've been showing Hatteras and Okracoke on .t.v. for the last couple days. It is quite awesome to think of being down on that little strip of island during a storm. Sue and I went there every year for years. Ed always went with us, and usually his girlfriend Martha, and always Lloyd, and Lloyd's one time beaux Richard, and often Susan Craft, and once Rudolfo, and Nega once, and Robin once, and Betty Stratton once, and Dayna, of course... But not all at one time. Oh, the stories I could (and probably will!) tell.

We always stayed at this little dump of a motel, Burris Motor Court.

Fiction

I'm taking a creative writing class with Arlington County. The class is called "Daytime Writers". The idea behind the class is that the students write individually and bring their work to class and the other studnts review it and offer suggestions. One guy brought in his resume, one woman brings in projects for work, and the others are working on fiction. The class is a great opportunity. I, alas, have not done anywhere near enough actual work to take full advantage of the class. So, of course, I'm going to take it again next term.

They say that the definition of "insanity" is to do the same thing over and over again while always hoping for different results.

My story so far has got two 30ish chicks in a bedroom reading an ad in the classifieds that says, ""Free Room.   Young female smokers only.  Light chores and companionship for elderly gentleman.  No pets.". It is then revealed in conversation that one of the women is crashing with the other woman and her husband while she looks for a place to live, so there ensues significant pressure on the woman to call the number in the ad. In the meantime, the phone rings. The homeless woman answers. It turns out to be the man who ran the ad mysteriously calling THEM.

So what happens next?

Levity

Minor bit of levity... I've be been having a rough time getting along with ANY of these illiterate, inconsiderate, ungracious, rude, self-absorbed JERKS that work here. (hard to believe that anyone as charming as me should have difficulty relating to anyone.). Anyway, it has been miserable.

Finally tonight this lady I get along with came to help me. She has a sense of humor, works hard, does her best for anyone she takes care of... A breath of fresh air. Her name is Dora.

Dora was in my room tonight and her cel phone rang. It played this odd tune with a guy who had a reedy cracky voice singing with a heavy country accent.

The lyrics he was singing were, "There may be bugs on most of you mugs, but there ain't no bugs on me."

Maybe I'm not tolerant enough, maybe, but I really don't think so. Take this morning, for example... One of the reasons I chose to move to Emeritus is that they had a pot of coffee available in the front lobby all day. Now, leaving aside all discussion about the wisdom of choosing an assisted living facility based on the availability of coffee, morning coffee is obviously something I consider important.
Friday morning there was no coffee. OK, shit happens. I traveled 3 blocks to a Starbucks and got coffee.- annoying, but no big deal. But today, again, no coffee. And today I can't leave because my busIs due anytime. The coffee maker is directly inside the door of the kitchen, so I went in and got myself some coffee. I then go out to the lobby, and the receptionist has arrived, and gives me shit for getting my own coffee, to which I reply, "if you had coffee in the lobby like you're supposed to, I wouldn't need to go in the kitchen, would I?". Does he say, "No. Sorry about that. I'll make sure we have it tomorrow." No, he does not. So I go outside with my coffee cup and a guy is out there cleaning up the front of the building, and he glances at me and demands, "Put your butts in the ashtray. Don't step on them.", so I say, "I don't smoke." Does he say, "Whoops. Sorry.". Hell, no. He says, "Don't leave that coffee cup on the porch, then.".
HOW MUCH DO I PAY TO LIVE HERE??????

Please excuse my hizzy fit.

Lloyd

My good. friend Lloyd Bryant came to visit last Wednesday. It was wonderful to see him. We had a good time, but it was disappointing because it was so short. He had to go home 2 days early because his dog, TJ, got sick. TJ was home in Glen Allen, and Lloyd's partner, George, called with the news.

We did get a chance to go see Oklahoma at Arena. It was fun. The accessible seats are are in the back row - they just pull out some chairs and get the wheelchairs to pull in the empty spots, which was fine. The show is quite enjoyable. It got me in the mood to sing "Oklahoma" and "Poor Judd is Dead" all night, which did not gain me any brownie points with Lloyd... Or the Caretakers who helped me get to bed... Or the Metro Access driver. But I think the ladies I eat breakfast with might have enjoyed it.

Silly

Just quick note about yesterday's amusements... I went to Staples, which is across Wilson Boulevard. I found nothing there that I needed (I'd hoped to look at furniture, but it turns out that they don't sell furniture in that store), and I'd hoped to look at a tablet, like a Droid. Ron had advised me not to buy one because there is nothing wrong with my iPad that can't be fixed by taking it in to the Apple store (thank you, Ron. My appointment is tomorrrow.) I just wanted to look at one. Which I did, from afar, but no one would actually wait on me.

So, having totally wasted my morning, and since I was already on the far side of Wilson, I wheeled down to a new restaurant that has gone up next to Gold's gym. It is named "W", but it doesn't seem at all Presidential.. I turns out to be a really good grill, and I got a great burger there for not much money. It was a nice thick burger that they'd created themselves, not a pre-frozen, paper thin one.

The interior of the restaurant was just a tiny room with a counter and a jumble of tables. You order at the counter and then wait, which is kinda fun because the big, beefy, sweaty guys keep coming in from the gym next door.
I was sitting there waiting for my burger. Another customer waited next to me. All of a sudden a man carrying a box runs out of the kitchen and into the parking lot, shouting, "Sir! Wait! Wait! You forgot your ribs!"

The other customer then looked at me and deadpanned, "Wow! That was fast food!."

Roanoke

Hello, long neglected blog. I hope there is someone out there who is still reading me.

I started what was supposed to be a string of entries about the various parsonages in which I grew up, but I fear that concept must have bored me so badly that me that I didn't write anything at all. There were some amusing points to share, though, so maybe I'll try to cover it all today.

After Virginia Beach we went to Roanoke.. "We" consisted of Mom, Dad, me, Ed, (who was "Edward" then), and Granny (Dad's mom). It was a wee, tiny, totally inappropriate house - in response to which, Mom had another baby.

I barely remember that first house. After all, I was 5! I kow it had a big carport, because I remember being out there with Ed when Mom and Dad. called us in to watch the Beatles on Ed Sullivan.

Isn't it amazing that I remember that? Somehow Mom and Dad knew that the Beatles on Ed Sullivan was a major historical event, even though they had no idea what the Beatles would eventually mean to the world. I remember Mom saying, "Watch this! Someday you can tell your children that you saw this!"

I further remember that Mom and Dad and Granny said nothing about the music. They just laughed at the shaggy hair.

Hot

The heat has just been incredible this month. Today was a bit better, but it won't last. It is supposed to be high 90's again by the weekend.

I don't remember it being so hot in the past. Is it global warming? Or is my memory failing?


Heat is horrible for MS. Thank goodness for air conditioning.

This leads me to a discussion of the air conditioning status of the various parsonages we lived in when I was a child. It could actually be a quite short, succinct discussion, consisting of the phrase, "There aint none." Or, rather, more correctly, "There weren't none".

Francis Asbury, at Virginia Beach, is the first parsonage I remember. They had no AC. As a matter of fact, they didn't even have a church. Dad built the church building in the front yard of the parsonage... Which was not air conditioned.

We had a screened-in porch with an overhead fan. In summer months, that is where we ate our evening meal. I know it was still quite hot out there because I can remember my dumb little 2 year old brother standing on the porch in his dirty, baggy diaper. He was screaming over and over that he was hot and wanted water.

So Dad poured a glass of wrater on Ed's head.

I guess that incident was just yet another illustration for Mom and Dad of how silly it was for them to have produced a 2nd child when they already had a perfectly wonderful girl at home.

TO BE CONTINUED!

80th birthday poem

Sue, Ron, Ed (et.al.), Marthha, Shirly, & I got Mom a digital cameers for her 80th. Here is the poem I wrote.

"What can we get Mother?"
This question has been weighty.
We wanted something special, 'cause
This year you're turning EIGHTY!

And so we've thought of all the things
That you consider fun.
You had fun on vacation, but
Vacation now is done.

You have got your pictures, so
You always will recall
The happy time at Myrtle Beach.
(But please forget the fall!)

You've always loved your pictures. You
Take pictures with great glee.
"A camera is the perfect gift!"
Both Sue and I agree.

But Ron, alas, says, "Cameras
For film are now pass*.
That type of camera is not sold
In any store today."

"You are loonie!" we reply
And run off to the mall
Where we find out that he's right -
They have them not at all.

Like old Victrola radios
Are not in modern stores,
Cameras for film are gone.
They aren't sold anymore.

So a new-fangled digital
We had to get for you.
To take a shot, just point and click.
That's all you have to do.

And when the camera is all full
Call Ron or Deb, and they
Can take the disc to CVS
And make prints right away.

Your pictures will look just like now!
And though you have turned 80,
This camera will show all the world
That you're a modern lady!