Yesterday I got all maudlin and started writing what it was like being the skinniest kid in the world. Thankfully, I didn’t press “Publish” on that one and saved all 4 of you a truly boring read. Instead of “truly” boring, this one will be just “kinda” boring.
I really don’t know why I said that because I really don’t know if it’s going to be boring or not. I have no control over what comes out of my fingers so don’t know where this is going. Sometimes I think my fiddly fingers have a mind all their own. So, where do we go from here?
How about weather?
It was really cold here in NW Oregon today. It’s been cold for the last week, actually. But, no precipitation, except a wee bit of rain. Since this is Oregon, rain doesn’t count. We’re used to being wet.
Today looked like snow weather and it was 33 most of the day. Fortunately, the weathermen all agreed that it wasn’t going to snow, so it didn’t. There’s no guarantee on how long they will all think the same way, however. Once one or two of them shift their thinking, any kind of weather is possible. In 1995 none of them could agree and we had a terrible ice storm that caused major power outages. I was working for Portland General Electric at the time, and have the shirt to prove it.
After that storm, all the weathermen formed a union, of sorts, and agreed to promote the same weather, ensuring that nothing bad ever happened again. What skews that process is when one of the old guys moves on, or retires, and a new weatherman, or woman, enters the scene. Women give weather an entirely different spin.
Some of you may think this is going to be some sort of sexist comment against women, but those who really know me, know that I’d never do that. I think it’s just great that there are weatherwomen because they bring color to a rather dull subject. Nice bright dresses, good makeup, pretty scarves, and flashy fingernails. It’s hard for the guys to compete with their kind of presentation. Add to that the fact that most men have no idea what the weather is all about, once the broadcast is over, because they were too busy checking out the software.
Aw, there I went and did it. Sorry. If I could that that back, I would, but I have a policy that writing it, thinking it, or saying it is pretty much the same. Once it’s done, it’s done. I know, I could back up and erase that, thanks to the wonderful technology we have, but that wouldn’t be fair. You who waste your valuable time reading this deserve to see it all.
Back to women … I’m all for equality. In fact, I’m all for more than equality. I say let women do everything and leave the men home to do the laundry, housework, and cooking. I’d even clean out the litter box, if we had a cat, which we don’t, so it’s easy for me to say that.
Speaking of laundry … I haven’t been allowed to do laundry since 1993 when I tossed one of Diane’s really nice chenille sweaters into the dryer, and later picked about 90% of it out of the lint trap. That wasn’t a good day, but it got me out of the laundry business. Since then, I’ve been the vacuum cleaner guy. One of these days something will go wrong to get me out of that one, too, but I fear what might replace it. I’m already banned from loading the dishwasher because I do it wrong. I cook once in a while, but it hasn’t been added to my list of duties … so far it’s a voluntary thing. I also help change the sheets, when asked. I never volunteer for that one because I don’t see the need to do it more than once a month. Diane thinks otherwise. Sometimes she does it and I don’t know it until it’s time for bed. Then I have to take time to shower so I don’t mess them up.
Back to laundry … I that was my main chore it would be so easy. I’d have 7 shirts, 7 pairs of pants, 7 pairs of socks and 7 pair of underwear. When I put on the 7th sent I’d wash all the rest so I’d be ready for the next day. I’ve often thought living like Jack Reacher would be OK, too. He buys cheap clothes and when they get dirty he buys new ones and throws the old ones away. Jack Reacher isn’t a real person, I don’t think. He’s a character in novels by Lee Child.
I hear commercials on the living room TV which means that Diane is asleep on the couch. If she was awake she’d be buzzing through the commercials with the fast forward button on the DVR. I think DVR means digital video recorder. It’s like a VCR with no tape. I forget what VCR stands for.
My ears are ringing loudly so it’s time for me to knock this off and get to bed. The noise is always better in the morning. It’s something that just gets louder as the day goes on. Doc said they don’t know why it happens, and there’s nothing they can do about it. The underlying message there is, “live with it”. So, I do. Though annoying, I’d rather have ringing in my ears than a migraine.