Diary of a Bad Housekeeper

You will all be stunned to learn that for the god-only-knows how many timeth in a row, I did not receive the Betty Crocker Housekeeper of the Year award. Equally distressing: there is no Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval.

Found in the back of our baking supply cupboard was a squeeze-jar of honey. It was a perfectly adorable little squeeze-jar bear. It was cute as a button. The honey inside had expired in 1987.

Betty was unforgiving. As she batted at a dust bunny the size of a standard poodle that was floating by her face, she made some cutting comments about my fastidiousness and my general expertise in the kitchen.

She not as sweet as she seems on TV.

Amazed at the world

Don’t know about the rest of you, but I am pretty amazed at all the insurrection around the world. First Tunisia, then Egypt and now Libya, Yemen, Bahrain… et al. There is the scary side; right wing Islamic groups could win the day, but I have hope.

And what of those right wing groups in Wisconsin? They don’t think teachers are worth what they are paid? Sorry, I don't have the ability to be a teacher and I can't imagine a big enough salary to make me want to learn how to be a teacher.

I SUPPORT TEACHERS 100% PERCENT.

Recent headlines

From MSNBC.com, “Fast times at Daytona 500”.

Who’da thunk it? Journalism at the cutting edge.

From KATU. Com, “Royal wedding invites posted”.

Now I’m gonna be sitting around the old homestead on pins and needles whilst I wait for my writ of attendance. I’ll go get some tea and scones.

From CBSNews.com, “Aide planning tell-all about time with Palin”.

God no… please… I know too much as it is. I can’t take another bite.

From KGW.com, “Duerson’s kin donating his brain for research”.

Okay, first, who is Duerson? And exactly whos brain is getting donated. And who is it getting donated to? Should I be standing in line somewhere?

Former Op-Ed Piece

Sadly, Max has learned the password to post on my blog. For anyone who read his earlier post, I apologize. I am embarrassed that so much anger and venom originated from my household. I have deleted the post to avoid sanctioning by the authoritarians that control the internet.

Max had just read a news article stating that 60% of Americans felt it was justified to declaw a housecat. He was angry. All the same, his brutal assassination of your character and your value to planet Earth was uncalled for. His comparison to putting bamboo under your finger nails, while location specific, was not a scientifically valid comparison. Trust me, his call for revolt will go unheeded among the general domesticated housecat community.

But if you’re ever in a dark alley and hear a loud screech… well, you’re on your own.

Happy St. Valentine's Day

Why I missed the sib call, or confessions of a social butterfly.

I know you are all thinking, “There is only one reason Mac would miss the sib call: sex, drugs and rock and roll.”

Well, first of all, ‘sex, drugs and rock and roll’ are three things. And for another thing, at my age it isn’t ‘sex, drugs and rock and roll’, it is ‘sex, drugs or rock and roll’. But that is a whole other blog.

But now, the real reasons I missed the sib call are two women I have known, kind of, sort of, for the last 20 years; Faith as a friend of a friends and Mary as a quasi-customer. Since Richard joined the choir at St. Mary’s, I have gotten to know Faith and Mary better. Mary is the director and Faith is the organist. I attended Faith and George’s 50th Anniversary party, (Mary and Leroy’s 50th Anniversary was a number of years ago) and had the unfortunate honor of attending George and Leroy’s funerals. I know you’re all wondering, “That’s all fine and good, but qu’est-ce que le buzz? Why the hell would Mac miss the sib call for these two women?”

Well, no one knows the exact dates, but everyone is absolutely certain that by February of 1961, Mary was the director of the choir at St. Mary’s and Faith the organist; they may have been in those roles in the late ‘50s. So there was a potluck at the parish to honor the two women and their years of service. I had pushed for it, so I thought I needed to attend.

I think it is pretty amazing that these two women have served for over 50 years. (Eek, a century!) And these are no high paying positions they have. Rumor has it they don’t even receive a modest stipend. Some have said there were times they had to buy music out of their own pockets.

So, my hat is off to Mary and Faith. I hope you both have 50 more years! If it’s any sign, Faith’s mother was at the potluck tonight.

Road Trip! Road Trip!

Herman!
Thanks Jim Unger!

Remotely Controlling our World

Meet our remotes.
Q – The old TV’s remote. (It will go with its partner to Goodwill soon.)
#2 – Looks familiar, but I can’t say for sure where it came from.
“Ferd” – DVR/VCR Remote.
RT7 – Long ago and far away, in a universe not unlike our own, there was a really expensive TV that lasted about 3 days longer than its warrantee. RT7 was crushed by the loss of its companion. We couldn’t have it destroyed.
C – The Satellite Remote.
A – The remote to our CD player. The CD player hasn’t worked in months, but we have hope for its recovery.
B – The Brand-Spanking New 32” LED/LCD HD Television Remote.
Of Unknown Origin – Name pretty much says it all.
R2D2 – Never seen him before in my life.
Unnamed remote on far left - The Universal Remote.

It looks like one big happy family, doesn’t it? Well, it is not. But we are slowly reaching mastery of our remote population. It is an arduous job, but I am confident that Richard and I shall rule supreme.

Remotes are meant to be our friends. They are meant to make our lives easier. They can do that if you know the proper protocol. And we are learning the protocol.

“And how do the remotes work?” you ask. Well, I am so glad that you solicited that titillating question. Scientifically, they perform their little miracles using an intricate and highly developed combination of geophysics, laser technology, psycho-analytical carbon-atom bending, whole wheat chaff and voodoo. (No chicken parts or virgin sacrifices are required.) But I’m sure you were wanting data on how to make them perform specific tasks, as opposed to a treatise on the theoretical theorem that govern their ability to do the things that they do do.

Let’s pretend that we want to watch TV. Well, that is easy as pie. All you need to do is pick up the Brand-Spanking New 32” LED/LCD HD Television remote and press the orange button with a totally nonsensical symbol on it. (It’s on the upper right had side of the remote.) And violà, a TV channel appears damn near instantaneously. [It is a miracle. You drop to your knees and count your blessings.] Or it doesn’t. The Brand-Spanking New 32” LED/LCD HD Television turns on, but you are staring at the company logo for your beloved satellite provider. Do not panic. Just pick up the satellite remote and press the “Select” button. (It’s near the center of the remote.) Now you can drop to your knees and praise the TV reception gods. Victory is yours!

But let’s play the devil’s advocate and pretend that the TV channel that is currently dancing across your screen is not the channel that you want to watch. Fortunately, you have options:

A. The first and easiest option is to learn to appreciate The Lawrence Welk Show and not bother trying to change the channel. I’ve used that option with moderate success. I fully admit to having developed a healthy respect for the talent and musical prowess of the performers. But even though The Lawrence Welk Show was a favorite of my parents and brings back some warm memories of them, I can’t say I’m really into it. So, that bring us to:

B. Let’s change the channel. While common sense would dictate that you select the Brand-Spanking New 32” LED/LCD HD Television remote to change the channel on the Brand-Spanking New 32” LED/LCD HD Television, common sense would be wrong. Common sense had no role and no place in the world of remote controls. If you were to pick up the Brand-Spanking New 32” LED/LCD HD Television remote in a vain attempt to change the channels on the Brand-Spanking New 32” LED/LCD HD Television, the combined mystical and mythical forces of the electronic entertainment world would snicker. And the snickering can be deafening. And they would say unkind things about your family tree. They are mean. In the remote world, it is the satellite remote that is the god of TV channels. Just don’t accidentally go to a channel that we aren’t ordained to receive, as that would cause a synapse in the grand scheme of the universe. It will cost your five to twenty minutes of your life, and possibly an entire plot line.

Ah, but life is good. You are watching your favorite show on the Brand-Spanking New 32” LED/LCD HD Television. Suddenly a cat begins to chatter, incessantly and loudly. What do you do? Once again, there are options.

A. You can jump up out of the Barco recliner, throw on your coat, jump in your car and run down to the local pest control center and pick up a can of “Cat-Be-Gone”. (I prefer the aerosol over the paste wax. It’s quicker and easier and doesn’t leave a yellowing build-up like the wax can.) Drive home and apply the “Cat-Be-Gone” around the Brand-Spanking New 32” LED/LCD HD Television and enjoy the rest of your show in a pleasant, quiet, cat-free existence.

B. A much longer and more trying alternative is to raise the volume using the remote(s). There are only four flipping remotes. How long can is possibly take to try all four them (three times each)? Why in the name of all that is sacred is there no volume control to the Brand-Spanking New 32” LED/LCD HD Television itself? Am I the only person in America that remembers going up to at TV unit, turning it on, selecting your channel, adjusting the volume and then sitting down with a bowl of popcorn? It was so simple in the good-old-days, and we were in much better shape. If we want to fight obesity, we should ban the remote. One trip to the TV every 30 minutes is all the exercise a normal, healthy person needs to fight the battle of the bulge. But I digress.

Perhaps I have alliterated on remote controls enough for one day. I feel my blood pressure spiking. Remind me at a calmer, more serene moment to tell you about all the hoops we have to jump through to watch a DVD. And there are no options involved.