Room And Board
Hello World,
I know it seems hard to believe that it will be June already on Monday, but that's the plain fact of the matter and no two ways about it. In the local area, people could be forgiven for viewing this idea with some skepticism, if not outright hostility, as this whole week has been about 50 degrees, rainy, windy, damp and clammy. In fact, if those were some of the rejects from the 7 dwarves, there's a good reason why they missed the cut, believe me, because they wouldn't be winning any popularity contests around here. If it was up to me, I would have sent the whole week back to the drawing board, but I already know that it would do no good, heaven knows, in these days when there are no standards anymore. It seems like every year, there's a week that is roasting hot and way too early, so that people all run out and buy air conditioners all at once, and after that, there's always one week later that is way too cold, and makes everyone wonder why they took the flannel sheets and electric blankets off their beds. This is just the weather gods toying with us, but I've got news for them if they think that they are going to play mind games with me, because I've already lost my mind.
Speaking of losing our minds, I've been notified by any number of alert readers (well, it was two) that contrary to my assertions in my previous note, you cannot in fact visit our friends at www.bumperbuddy.com, because the web site does not exist. Personally, I can't understand that, because I was behind two different cars wearing bumper buddies, and the web site name is printed right on it so anyone can see it, which makes absolutely no sense if there really is no such place. In fact, if you search on "bumper buddy," you will find a variety of different products for your pickup truck, boat, lawn tractor, or license plate, but not the sort of rear end diaper that I came across twice in my travels last week. In the computer industry, when a company promises to release some exciting and full-featured new software, but then it never happens, this is known as "vaporware," and insiders have come to disregard the hype until they see the real product when it actually exists. But I find it so odd that people were actually driving around with these bumper buddies, which apparently are just a figment of an over-active imagination that is not to be trusted. I realize now that this is one of those cases where seeing is not necessarily believing, and I ought to know.
Obviously, we can't let May slip away without mentioning some of the notable events that occurred during the month. It's true that the 10th was Mother's Day, and I hope that everyone took advantage of the opportunity to celebrate all of the mothers, and other matronly figures, in their lives, without whose gentle wisdom and guidance, we would have long since poked our eyes out running with scissors and worse. We got a jump on the holiday by celebrating with Mom on Saturday instead, and it was a lovely day all around, and had the added advantage of being noticeably uncrowded everywhere we went. We had a nice lunch at the diner, which would have been unthinkable on actual Mother's Day, as we have learned from experience. Then we drove to Albertson and visited the lovely but unheralded Clark Gardens, with its winding paths, water features, and capacious variety of flowers, shrubs and trees of all descriptions, and some which defy description. This too would have been unthinkable on Mother's Day, where the narrow paths would have been choked with crowds and impassable, but a day early, we pretty much had the place to ourselves and enjoyed it immensely. We got there too late to check out their gift shop, so I would have to say that my favorite part of the place were the signs that stated "People who go off the path will be composted!" After that, we ran some errands, which turned out to be more interesting than we expected.
We were making the rounds of big-box retailers, and had been to Target, Bed, Bath & Beyond, and not one, but two Wal*Marts in our travels. At our last stop, which was the second Wal*Mart, we were on line behind a man buying some household items and snacks, who was obviously no youngster, but a grown adult well past his 21st birthday. One item he was trying to buy was a six-pack of beer, but the cashier said that she couldn't sell it to him. Of course, one doesn't like to be nosy (oh all right, maybe they do) but this unexpected turn of events certainly pulled us all up short, since anyone could tell that this man was plenty old enough to buy beer anywhere he wanted to, and everyone stared at the cashier like she had just landed in a space ship from another planet. She said she was going to have to call over a different sales associate to ring up the sale, because she was under the legal drinking age, and was too young to be allowed to sell beer, even though the customer was old enough to buy it. Luckily they found another employee who was older, and it all ended in a happy glow of barley and hops. But everyone said the same thing, that we had never heard of a cashier being too young to sell beer, and that was really a new one for us.
Another notable event earlier in the month was the Preakness, which follows hard on the heels of the Kentucky Derby, and where the surprising Mine That Bird was looking to win the second leg of the Triple Crown and make his mark on history. He was considered an early favorite, until out of nowhere, the eccentric owners of powerhouse filly Rachel Alexandra decided to enter her at Pimlico, and threw the mother and father of all monkey wrenches into the thing. This fleet-footed female had run roughshod over the competition in all of her previous races, which might make someone wonder why they hadn't entered her into the Kentucky Derby in the first place. If it was to try and keep her a secret and sneak her past the handicappers, so she would run at better odds, it certainly didn't work, because as soon as she was confirmed to be in the field at the Preakness, she was immediately the overwhelming favorite, so there was no sense in betting on her. By race time, I think she had gone into negative odds, so that if you placed a bet on her and she won, you actually had to pay the racetrack more than you had bet to begin with. Unlike our mythical friends at bumper buddy, she lived up to the hype and then some, running away with the race and winning handily against her overmatched opponents, leaving even the stalwart Mine That Bird in the dust. She became the first filly since 1924 to win the Preakness, to the surprise of apparently nobody, since she already had a widespread reputation of being unbeatable. The final jewel in the Triple Crown is the upcoming Belmont Stakes, with a longer length that makes it more difficult for winners of the previous two races, so we could see what I call a "reverse Triple Crown," which is that instead of one horse winning all three events, you have three different horses that each win only one race. You heard it here first, folks.
Of course, we can't bid farewell to May without my sister Linda's famous Memorial Day BBQ in the wilds of upstate New York, still going strong in its 37th year, and attended by literally hundreds of people from all over the world. My sister Diane and I went on Saturday, getting there early before the rest of the thundering herd, although several people who were camping out on the outskirts of the property were already there. It was just as well that we did, because even at 11:30, the traffic for the annual New Paltz Craft Fair was backed up all the way down the main thoroughfare of the town, and we were just barely able to squeeze around it and get to our destination through the back way. Admittedly, getting there early has the disadvantage that you then have to help set up the picnic tables, umbrellas, volleyball net, lawn furniture, barbecue grills, horseshoes and Frisbee golf, as well as ferry food and utensils back and forth from the kitchen. But we had a fun time, enjoying a beautiful day out in the woods, with even two deer passing through in broad daylight, which really got everybody's attention. Later, they do sports and grilling in earnest, and also arrange group activities like hikes or arts and crafts, but even if all you want to do is relax in a hammock and enjoy the birds in the trees, there's a little bit of something for everyone. We had to leave around 5:30 so that Diane could catch her bus home, and lucky to have no traffic there or back, which is something that you can't count on during a long holiday weekend for the most part. Of course, it goes without saying that a fine time was had by all, and naturally, I have the pictures to prove it.
One thing that I can prove happened, but not when, was that some years ago, one or another of the new neighbors in the revolving door of a house next to us, installed a fence-like structure on their property right next to our driveway. For me, it failed the first test of a fence, namely that it didn't enclose anything, because it ran from their backyard to the sidewalk and just stopped, without being attached to any other parts that would have made it live up to its description of fencing things in. This is what I would describe as a stand-alone wooden stockade wall, which I would not dignify by calling it a fence. It failed several other tests as well, because they elected to have it installed in three different heights, going from 5-feet tall in the back, down to about 4-feet farther along, and finally tapering off at around 3-feet at the sidewalk. You would expect the fence installers to know better, but they put it up backwards, so that the finished side was facing the neighbors, while we had to look at the back of the fence from our side, thanks not. Adding insult to injury, next they painted it a screaming white, so that when you pulled into the neighborhood, it looked for all the world like a billboard. We hated it.
Meanwhile, the revolving door kept on turning, and neighbors came and went, until now when we have Regina and Peter, with their dog Argo and cat Jake. They seem full of pep, and have been doing a lot of yard work, sprucing up the place, and doing a heck of a job all around. I said to Bill that I was surprised that they didn't do anything about the fence, which although as I recall is not that old (here I'm afraid that my original notes on it have been lost to posterity) has been falling apart badly, with slats coming out of it in bunches, especially in the 3-foot section. In fact, with the peeling paint and missing slats, it looks as ratty and unkempt as our yard, not the pristine and well-manicured property that it belongs to. This prompted Bill's insightful observation that the new neighbors probably thought it was our fence and not theirs, particularly since it was not only an eyesore, but facing the wrong direction. I was aghast at the idea that anyone would
think that was our horrible fence, and I resolved that the next time I saw them out in the yard, I would mention to them in a diplomatic way that if they didn't want to fix the fence, it would be okay with us if they just took it down. I think it was the next day when Bill and I were coming home from the diner, and we noticed that the neighbors had collected all of the slats that had fallen out of the fence, and had carefully propped them up in a pile on the other side of the fence in our yard. At that point, all you can do is laugh. I will admit, although not proudly, that it did occur to me that as long as they think it's our fence, we should probably just go right ahead and tear it down, since we always hated it to begin with, and they would obviously be none the wiser. It's true that this would not claim the moral high ground that we might strive for, but it can't be denied that it's a bit too tempting to just reject out of hand. As for me, I guess you could say that I'm sitting on the fence.
Elle
I know it seems hard to believe that it will be June already on Monday, but that's the plain fact of the matter and no two ways about it. In the local area, people could be forgiven for viewing this idea with some skepticism, if not outright hostility, as this whole week has been about 50 degrees, rainy, windy, damp and clammy. In fact, if those were some of the rejects from the 7 dwarves, there's a good reason why they missed the cut, believe me, because they wouldn't be winning any popularity contests around here. If it was up to me, I would have sent the whole week back to the drawing board, but I already know that it would do no good, heaven knows, in these days when there are no standards anymore. It seems like every year, there's a week that is roasting hot and way too early, so that people all run out and buy air conditioners all at once, and after that, there's always one week later that is way too cold, and makes everyone wonder why they took the flannel sheets and electric blankets off their beds. This is just the weather gods toying with us, but I've got news for them if they think that they are going to play mind games with me, because I've already lost my mind.
Speaking of losing our minds, I've been notified by any number of alert readers (well, it was two) that contrary to my assertions in my previous note, you cannot in fact visit our friends at www.bumperbuddy.com, because the web site does not exist. Personally, I can't understand that, because I was behind two different cars wearing bumper buddies, and the web site name is printed right on it so anyone can see it, which makes absolutely no sense if there really is no such place. In fact, if you search on "bumper buddy," you will find a variety of different products for your pickup truck, boat, lawn tractor, or license plate, but not the sort of rear end diaper that I came across twice in my travels last week. In the computer industry, when a company promises to release some exciting and full-featured new software, but then it never happens, this is known as "vaporware," and insiders have come to disregard the hype until they see the real product when it actually exists. But I find it so odd that people were actually driving around with these bumper buddies, which apparently are just a figment of an over-active imagination that is not to be trusted. I realize now that this is one of those cases where seeing is not necessarily believing, and I ought to know.
Obviously, we can't let May slip away without mentioning some of the notable events that occurred during the month. It's true that the 10th was Mother's Day, and I hope that everyone took advantage of the opportunity to celebrate all of the mothers, and other matronly figures, in their lives, without whose gentle wisdom and guidance, we would have long since poked our eyes out running with scissors and worse. We got a jump on the holiday by celebrating with Mom on Saturday instead, and it was a lovely day all around, and had the added advantage of being noticeably uncrowded everywhere we went. We had a nice lunch at the diner, which would have been unthinkable on actual Mother's Day, as we have learned from experience. Then we drove to Albertson and visited the lovely but unheralded Clark Gardens, with its winding paths, water features, and capacious variety of flowers, shrubs and trees of all descriptions, and some which defy description. This too would have been unthinkable on Mother's Day, where the narrow paths would have been choked with crowds and impassable, but a day early, we pretty much had the place to ourselves and enjoyed it immensely. We got there too late to check out their gift shop, so I would have to say that my favorite part of the place were the signs that stated "People who go off the path will be composted!" After that, we ran some errands, which turned out to be more interesting than we expected.
We were making the rounds of big-box retailers, and had been to Target, Bed, Bath & Beyond, and not one, but two Wal*Marts in our travels. At our last stop, which was the second Wal*Mart, we were on line behind a man buying some household items and snacks, who was obviously no youngster, but a grown adult well past his 21st birthday. One item he was trying to buy was a six-pack of beer, but the cashier said that she couldn't sell it to him. Of course, one doesn't like to be nosy (oh all right, maybe they do) but this unexpected turn of events certainly pulled us all up short, since anyone could tell that this man was plenty old enough to buy beer anywhere he wanted to, and everyone stared at the cashier like she had just landed in a space ship from another planet. She said she was going to have to call over a different sales associate to ring up the sale, because she was under the legal drinking age, and was too young to be allowed to sell beer, even though the customer was old enough to buy it. Luckily they found another employee who was older, and it all ended in a happy glow of barley and hops. But everyone said the same thing, that we had never heard of a cashier being too young to sell beer, and that was really a new one for us.
Another notable event earlier in the month was the Preakness, which follows hard on the heels of the Kentucky Derby, and where the surprising Mine That Bird was looking to win the second leg of the Triple Crown and make his mark on history. He was considered an early favorite, until out of nowhere, the eccentric owners of powerhouse filly Rachel Alexandra decided to enter her at Pimlico, and threw the mother and father of all monkey wrenches into the thing. This fleet-footed female had run roughshod over the competition in all of her previous races, which might make someone wonder why they hadn't entered her into the Kentucky Derby in the first place. If it was to try and keep her a secret and sneak her past the handicappers, so she would run at better odds, it certainly didn't work, because as soon as she was confirmed to be in the field at the Preakness, she was immediately the overwhelming favorite, so there was no sense in betting on her. By race time, I think she had gone into negative odds, so that if you placed a bet on her and she won, you actually had to pay the racetrack more than you had bet to begin with. Unlike our mythical friends at bumper buddy, she lived up to the hype and then some, running away with the race and winning handily against her overmatched opponents, leaving even the stalwart Mine That Bird in the dust. She became the first filly since 1924 to win the Preakness, to the surprise of apparently nobody, since she already had a widespread reputation of being unbeatable. The final jewel in the Triple Crown is the upcoming Belmont Stakes, with a longer length that makes it more difficult for winners of the previous two races, so we could see what I call a "reverse Triple Crown," which is that instead of one horse winning all three events, you have three different horses that each win only one race. You heard it here first, folks.
Of course, we can't bid farewell to May without my sister Linda's famous Memorial Day BBQ in the wilds of upstate New York, still going strong in its 37th year, and attended by literally hundreds of people from all over the world. My sister Diane and I went on Saturday, getting there early before the rest of the thundering herd, although several people who were camping out on the outskirts of the property were already there. It was just as well that we did, because even at 11:30, the traffic for the annual New Paltz Craft Fair was backed up all the way down the main thoroughfare of the town, and we were just barely able to squeeze around it and get to our destination through the back way. Admittedly, getting there early has the disadvantage that you then have to help set up the picnic tables, umbrellas, volleyball net, lawn furniture, barbecue grills, horseshoes and Frisbee golf, as well as ferry food and utensils back and forth from the kitchen. But we had a fun time, enjoying a beautiful day out in the woods, with even two deer passing through in broad daylight, which really got everybody's attention. Later, they do sports and grilling in earnest, and also arrange group activities like hikes or arts and crafts, but even if all you want to do is relax in a hammock and enjoy the birds in the trees, there's a little bit of something for everyone. We had to leave around 5:30 so that Diane could catch her bus home, and lucky to have no traffic there or back, which is something that you can't count on during a long holiday weekend for the most part. Of course, it goes without saying that a fine time was had by all, and naturally, I have the pictures to prove it.
One thing that I can prove happened, but not when, was that some years ago, one or another of the new neighbors in the revolving door of a house next to us, installed a fence-like structure on their property right next to our driveway. For me, it failed the first test of a fence, namely that it didn't enclose anything, because it ran from their backyard to the sidewalk and just stopped, without being attached to any other parts that would have made it live up to its description of fencing things in. This is what I would describe as a stand-alone wooden stockade wall, which I would not dignify by calling it a fence. It failed several other tests as well, because they elected to have it installed in three different heights, going from 5-feet tall in the back, down to about 4-feet farther along, and finally tapering off at around 3-feet at the sidewalk. You would expect the fence installers to know better, but they put it up backwards, so that the finished side was facing the neighbors, while we had to look at the back of the fence from our side, thanks not. Adding insult to injury, next they painted it a screaming white, so that when you pulled into the neighborhood, it looked for all the world like a billboard. We hated it.
Meanwhile, the revolving door kept on turning, and neighbors came and went, until now when we have Regina and Peter, with their dog Argo and cat Jake. They seem full of pep, and have been doing a lot of yard work, sprucing up the place, and doing a heck of a job all around. I said to Bill that I was surprised that they didn't do anything about the fence, which although as I recall is not that old (here I'm afraid that my original notes on it have been lost to posterity) has been falling apart badly, with slats coming out of it in bunches, especially in the 3-foot section. In fact, with the peeling paint and missing slats, it looks as ratty and unkempt as our yard, not the pristine and well-manicured property that it belongs to. This prompted Bill's insightful observation that the new neighbors probably thought it was our fence and not theirs, particularly since it was not only an eyesore, but facing the wrong direction. I was aghast at the idea that anyone would
think that was our horrible fence, and I resolved that the next time I saw them out in the yard, I would mention to them in a diplomatic way that if they didn't want to fix the fence, it would be okay with us if they just took it down. I think it was the next day when Bill and I were coming home from the diner, and we noticed that the neighbors had collected all of the slats that had fallen out of the fence, and had carefully propped them up in a pile on the other side of the fence in our yard. At that point, all you can do is laugh. I will admit, although not proudly, that it did occur to me that as long as they think it's our fence, we should probably just go right ahead and tear it down, since we always hated it to begin with, and they would obviously be none the wiser. It's true that this would not claim the moral high ground that we might strive for, but it can't be denied that it's a bit too tempting to just reject out of hand. As for me, I guess you could say that I'm sitting on the fence.
Elle
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 9:06 PM
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