Friday, June 29, 2007


I talk to myself alot. I also talk to things that will never respond (CK calls them inanimate objects, I use other, more colorful words). Most of my comments are directed toward golf balls, they just won't do what I want them to do. I talk to them right after they leave the club face - "dammit, don't go there" or "turn" (this comes out when I hit one straight that I expected to move significantly to the right, commonly known as a "slice"). They hardly ever listen, if I say kick right, the stupid ball always kicks left. I continue to talk to them ("run"or "sit") until they stop, not necessarily where I wanted them to wind up.

All of the golfers I know talk to their balls at one time or another and they talk to themselves too, mostly saying things like nice shot (insert name) when the ball goes about 20 feet after a mighty swing. Some have been known to give them a little kiss. Athough Johnny Carson may have thought so, I have never seen that cause a putter to stand up.

Tuna on the wall, blackberries on the ceiling

Many years ago, just before my oldest sister’s wedding, some tuna hit the wallpaper. It happened because I wanted a tuna salad sandwich and she wanted plain tuna. So when I put the onion and celery in the tuna, the fish hit the wall. Needless to say, it was somewhat difficult to explain the stain on the wallpaper to mom and dad (just as difficult as trying to convince them that the dog was responsible for the hole in the wall) but both of us did our best to argue our side, just as a couple of lawyers would do in their closing statements. I do not remember the final outcome but I thing we both failed to convince the jury of our case.

I only bring this up because last night while preparing dinner I noticed that there were some little dark stains on the ceiling above the pot rack hanging in our kitchen and CamiKaos and I had been discussing Aunt Tuna (never called her that before, hope it doesn’t stick) a little earlier the in the day. As soon as I saw them I remembered that NanaKaos had mentioned that she had a little accident while she was making a blackberry milkshake that evening. It seems that while using the "Braun" 300 watt Thunderstick (AKA Whizwand), a premature extraction occurred that caused a blackberry mess on the counter and floor. What NK did not do was look upward until I pointed the "whizmess" out to her.

Now, since we are attempting to sell our house so we do not have to spend another winter with the snow queen it looks like DK may have to paint the ceiling in the kitchen.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Ten Years Later

My current position in life both fascinates and horrifies me at the same time. My wife (NanaKaos) and I moved to the mid-west from Northern California as a result of an offer I could not refuse - that is to start looking for a new profession at the age of 50 or move to the Happy Days lifestyle of the upper mid-west. The fascination stems from my recent retirement and the amount of time I have to devote to my foremost passion (golf) and the abundance of courses available in the area. The horror is that we may have to spend another dreadful winter here.