. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Absit iniuria verbis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
This will be snow-season #6 (which, so far, has been unusually mild) to challenge this machine. I did a running checklist on it and everything seems fit and ready for what Mother Nature is sending this way. All the same, I hope this storm blows by us.
The food was delicious as always. At best, the place was only half-full; apparently many folks chose to watch the Super Bowl from home.
Fatman's (named by the prior old-school bar owner who was a REALLY HUGE DUDE) has, under the new owners, evolved into a very popular local sports-bar and diner with many wide-screen TVs that are visible to all booths, tables, and the bar. It has many outdoor dining areas for use during their spring thru autumn volleyball season.
Anyhoo, we were there for the opening kickoff and finished eating by half-time when we decided to head back home. Dunno who won the big game.
Back during my very early years in the suburbs, a bunch of neighborhood kids and I got together in a vacant lot across the street from my parent's house. We raked dry autumn leaves into a huge pile beneath a towering oak tree. Each of us would take turns climbing as high as we dared into that big tree and then we'd jump down into the leaf-pile. This evolved into a daredevil contest that eventually narrowed down to a tie between another kid and me. There was no possible way for either of us to climb any higher than we did, so I hollered down to the bunch of kids on the ground to set the pile of leaves afire. Well, I jumped and the other kid in the tree didn't, and at that very moment my eye caught sight of my Mom kicking open the breezeway door of our house like some sort of female super ninja warrior. She raced across the street at an unearthly speed, faster than the rate that gravity had me falling toward the flames. That Wonder Woman somehow covered around 50-yards in warp-speed-time and she slapped my butt a nano-second before I splashed into the inferno. She then dragged me all the way back to our house, beating the still-smoldering seat of my pants each step of the way.
Mom would tell HER VERSION (slightly different than mine) of that story (and many other such stories) to everyone she met for the rest of her life; “OH? You think YOUR kid is/was a problem child? Lemme tell ya about one of MINE!"
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Mom was the very best of the best!
Ummm, let's just say that I wasn't the best behaved of her 5 sons ...
π
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/Z@X
Seasonable-weather-patterns aside, the amount of daylight throughout the year really messes with my head; I’ll assume that I’m not alone. The more daylight I get cheers my body and soul; less spawns more stress.
CHICAGO, IL
DAYLIGHT
09hrs-21mins on the 1st of December (TOTALLY SUCKS!)
09hrs-13mins on the 1st of January (TOTALLY SUCKS!)
10hrs-04mins on the 1st of February (TOTALLY SUCKS!)
11hrs-16mins on the 1st of March (TOLERABLE)
12hrs-44mins on the 1st of April (TOLERABLE)
14hrs-03mins on the 1st of May (OKEY DOKEY)
15hrs-02mins on the 1st of June (AWESOME!)
15hrs-10mins on the 1st of July (AWESOME!)
14hrs-23mins on the 1st of August (AWESOME!)
13hrs-07mins on the 1st of September (OKEY DOKEY)
11hrs-44mins on the 1st of October (TOLERABLE)
10hrs-21mins on the 1st of November (TOLERABLE)
Your degree of Sunlight-Sanity may vary.
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π
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/Z@X
When your spouse asks “Are you wondering why I haven’t said a word to you this entire week?”
THE CORRECT RESPONSE IS NOT “I hadn’t noticed.”
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π§
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/Z@X
Brother Gordy called today and said that the heart-experts attending him want to place 4 stents in his hearteries (<-- My word, not Gordon's. It's not actual medical terminology, but IMHO it should be). He asked my opinion on it, citing the lack of any gains Dad experienced with his quadruple bypass (IIRC, Dad suffered a heart attack during the procedure, which put him into a depression that lasted until the day he died in 2006). I offered Gordy my humble opinion, that if I was in his shoes, I would go for it. The medical technology and medical talent nowadays is likely to offer more chance of a favorable outcome than what Dad experienced during his treatments a quarter century ago. The longer each of us stays alive gives us more opportunities to piss off the people on our respective shit-lists. If doing good deeds is a priority then there is more time to work on that list as well.
