Nov 2007
Blink, maybe next year.
The Holiday season is in full swing. This weekend is the Multi-rep demo, which is exactly what it sounds like. It's true we have one sales rep who sells about 20 different product lines to us, but it is not just him. We will have multiple sales reps in the store hawking their wares, touting their unique differences and features, vying for the consumer dollar. We will not have an Wii's. Inventory that is the key. We have what we have, and getting more is going to be tougher with every terrestrial rotation. Come early, come often but don't come too late. 26 days. 23 more shopping opportunities, and we have the most popular, fastest moving cameras and accessories right now, but December means dwindling inventory. The X-mas eve shopper will be looking at the dregs, the early birds will have gorged on the fat worms of giftdom, and through it all there is one constant. One unfaltering (o.k. that's not true) constant. Me. This is my 19th December at Roberts, I am retail battle worn, scarred and hardened, I know the job at hand and I am prepared for the unexpected. Sure it could make others a little crazy to see what I've
retail_master
seen; the unseemly, sorrid, underside of human nature, greed, dishonesty, distrust. But I have an advantage, an ace up my sleeve. I was already crazy, and I know the product better than any part time seasonal, insincere make a holiday pay-check clark you might find in the big box stores. Ohh I'm brimming over with cheer, what?
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Sight, Sound, Smell, Taste I'm feeling it.
JAzztet
The Dick Dickinson Jazztet providing syncopation in cacophonous times.
Tuits in all shapes and sizes, I have the round one I need so I can talk about the Vodkas and the evening. Not only were there 6 separate samples each of about an ounce, there was grilled food, and later even live Jazz. That's right live Jazz. It's like the Chatterbox has live Jazz every night. It's like that because it is true.
Waiting for the tasting to begin we sat down at the Men's Club table, the one by the juke box that may soon need a conning tower and a periscope, in the light of the silvery holiday strands it was apparent that the Juke is sinking into the floor and may haps that is why the songs skip. Mel, Jenni and I were there awaiting, Kay joined us and so did Andy Krull, who has loaned me a great book,
"Blue Highways", by William Least Heat Moon, which is about travel for discovery sake. Andy told me about this book a month or so ago when the weather allowed outside patio camaraderie, he said it reads like my travel descriptions and my blog reminded him of Blue Highways at times. Now that I've read the first 57 pages I must say I'm flattered, I'm also going to purchase my own copy of this book and maybe more of Mr. Heat Moon's other travelogues. A Whiskey drinkin' man, Andy would have no vodka this night, just stories to tell.

Jodi Hendricks from Olinger was our bottle tipper and when David had the food ready he gave her the high-sign and the first three offerings made their place in front of each partaking participant.
The drinks:
A. 360 VODKA ...Isopropyl rubbing alcohol, without the bouquet.
B. GREY GOOSE VODKA ...Denatured Wood Alcohol?
C. SKYY VANILLA VODKA ...Hey this was pretty good.
D. PEARL PLUM VODKA ...You could drink this straight or over ice, mmmm (at least until blindness or dementia sets in)
E. GREY GOOSE L'ORANGE VODKA ...Smells like sweet mandarin oranges, tastes great until you swallow then see A+B
F. KETEL ONE CITROEN ... Lemony goodness another, almost straight or over ice item. The chicken kabobs were very tasty too, though I tried mine a little too soon and had to cauterize the burn with 360 wodka.
Mel, Jenni and I all did the tasting, then we stayed awhile to listen to Dick Dickinson's Jazztet with a guest Sax man who might have actually borrowed one of Adolphe Sax's* personal instruments. He may have been old but boy did he have some chops, I could have stayed and listened all night except for the poison running through my veins.
WailinSax
Learn to work the saxophone
I'll play just what I feel
Drink
Scotch whisky PLUM VODKA all night long
And die behind the wheel

*Adolphe Sax invented the Saxophone in 1840, and patented it in 1846.
**I played Alto Sax from 5th grade until I sold it to eat after three years of college. I wish I had it back. I loved it.
In 20 minutes it will be 1:00 AM and once again Time,The Avenger has taken my ability to sit any longer in front of this interface to the world, I'll come back and tell more if you'll out up with me,
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Not Rage, Reporting
So there is much to tell of a substance-less account. I worked and tried to fix the ink area for well over an hour, did three sensor cleanings, sold a thing or two. That was after I got to the store of course, the way in had it's moment too. Just one really not the usual lane changing while putting on eye-makeup and talking on a hand held communication device type of moments that we all encounter more than we should. But one and one that mad me furious. I live less than a mile in three different directions from schools. My daughter attended two of them in her studies to become a state approved little bit older person. I hold the school zone speed limit as a sacred oath for her protection and the protection of everyone else's daughters and sons. The BMW comes from a land where they might want to cruise at 20 mph or 200, so it has a cruise control system that can be engaged at 20mph or 200. I set the thing at 25 when I enter the "zone" and do not err from that speed until I hit the back of the sign in the other direction. Here it is then. Yesterday as I entered the 'zone' I was alone on the road, three tenths of a mile back at the nearest intersection a Buick Rivera came around the corner. The school zone is 4 tenths of a mile long, and before one tenth had ticked off the in dash display the Buick was on my tail. "I said, Why don't I just put her in neutral and let you push me, buddy?" Jenni looked into the side-view and all she got was side, He was inches from my bumper. Then he started slowing and dropping back, then charging right to the back of the car over and over as I maintained the "zone' speed. Finally he did the unpardonable, with less than two hundred feet to the Speed limit 40 sign at the end of Warren Centrals Zone he passed me over the double yellow in a school zone line. So I thought I might start a Jerk of the week feature.
With three days left I think we have a clear cut winner here in episode one.
Brown Buick Rivera, paint peeling plate # 93T 5857.

I was going to talk about the Vodka's and the evening but there are no round tuits here so I will come back and do that tlater when I get a round tuit.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Taste of Potato's
534
Looking Out I See only Dreams, Looking In I see ... Chuck Pace ©2007
Am expectink large Ruskie contingency at Chatters Bach this evenink, comrade. Is tasting yes? Da! is vodka (wadka) tastink. Am sure portions vill be small, but still ve toast the Romanov's this evenink. Should be makink muszer Russia wery proudt. Da.

Kookie_Kay
The last visit I made to the Chatterbox was on Monday night. It was a quick and quiet night, one could almost hear Mike Wilson's inner thoughts, that is until the one legged man came in dragging his stump over 80 grit sandpaper. Schraak, Thump, Schraak ,Thump. The one legged man was inside the Juke-Box and about 25% of the songs that Mike plugged in were the one-legged man chorus. Ee Gads! Mack the Knife wouldn't play! It is almost as bad as the weeks that the juke was busted altogether ("It is almost as bad as the weeks that the juke was busted"), thanks for the participation, if you didn't say that with the rest of when I said all together we'll wait for you to get back on the same page (post wise). O.K. on three. "It is almost as bad as the weeks that the juke was busted!" The crowd was small that night, with the exception of David A. and Rich, nobody was over 6 foot. Mel and Rich were already there when I walked in, Wilson was manning the far corner seat that is the ACT seat in the summer when we are outside; the jukebox seat. Jenni and Rebecca arrived after I did and a little bit later there was Kay with cookies. Mmmm, Kay with cookies, the order of the universe is restored for at least one evening. DeAnne the glutton had two whole cookies, two visits to yummy goodnessville, two discus of delight. I was shocked! I had three but I'm a growing boy (out not up, people keep foisting cookies in my face, your Honor), Kris Bowman and Jody Frick were quietly alone at different areas of the tunnel shaped retreat. Kay saw to it that they indulged in baked completeness with the rest of the congregation. The ACT peeps, Mary Lou, Jerry and Jeff poked their heads thru the door, saw that the back table was full of us, removed their heads from the holes in the door which miraculously healed, and were gone like Kaiser Søze. Soon enough we were too. Home to TV land, Heros which has a ton of ties to tie up in two episodes, and the best Journeyman yet. Wow, what an intense episode, it seemed like it was 90 minutes long the level of intensity was so high.
Oops I have a job. Gotta go I got lost in transcription, where is Scarlett Johannson when I need her, which is about all the time now that the question, like the starlet, has been posed?
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Can You Spare a Little Change?
Moonflower-heart
Moonflower seed pod. Chuck Pace ©2007
After the Moonflower has lost its fragrance and beauty, it still has its heart, which houses the seeds of all its future beauty and glory.
We all have our moods and our swings of said. You are no different than me, your reactions to such external forces and their pressures applied may differ, the level to which you externalize the internal strife may vary, may be more flamboyant or extremely subtle. But there is a mental change, an emotional state change and nearly always a physiological change too. It may be a difference in appetite, sleep, appearance, habits or tolerance to others. Often this swing and its resulting change are actually an acceptance of an earlier change that you refused to recognize or were unwilling to accept when it happened. Creatures of habit do not like to see habits altered, changed or discarded. The adjustment must be incorporated into the creation of a new habit or added onto an already existing routine in order to assimilate the change, this too is a stressful acceptance in and of itself. Add to the daily survival seasonal expectations, and you further compound change, and thus strife.
Climate change?
The dilution or dismemberment of a family unit?
Financial reality vs. seasonal expectation fantasy?
Perhaps it is the advent of another Holiday season, and its forced, conflicting, misguided or presumed messages offset by its commercial, greedy, disingenuous evil twin. Are you depressed by the veneer of holiday cheer over a particle-board mishmash reality? Here is my first gift to you, maybe my only gift, and hopefully my greatest gift.
May the ability to see that there is less luster to the artifice, and less need for the token offering to the genuine be your beacon through these stormy seas of season.
Love those that you have loved. Share with those with whom you would share. Care for all who have cared for you, enjoy the gift of comfort with those who accept you with your faults, foibles and weaknesses and you will have the holiday of compassion, sharing and caring all your days, not just from Halloween to New Years.
If you only help others when you are being watched. If you only give when there is the chance of getting. If you don't hurt when those around you or close to you hurt or struggle, then regardless of you fortunes you should look for a little change. True giving enriches the giver. True caring makes you truly cared for. If you know the kind of person you are, so does everyone else.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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I shutter without the click!
We had a lot of stuff to take to Rich's. A cooler, my green-bean casserole, Jenni's hot mama's, Harps Beer, Corona's, limes, bottle cozies, you name it. I even formatted the card in my camera just to take shots of the festivities. That's why when we were about a third of the way there I said to Jenni, "Crap I left my camera at home." Inconceivable! A camera guy takes his camera. There would have been photos to take. Documents of Turkey Fryers having turkey, records of the main events, group shots. Pictures dang it. The food, as is to be expected was damn good. The Colts victory, which used to be expected was too, even with the kicker woes, the receiver woes and turnover woes. Three woes usually brings a horse to a stop but we managed to eek out a victory, and Adam managed to make as many FG's as he missed. Peyton limited his turn overs to one sixth of last weeks output and the team advanced to 8-2.
Then there was the primary reason for the Turkey fryers to convene, Miami-Homestead. Racin'. The final race of the season and the end of an era and body style (no not mine, I will recover form the copious amounts of food I consumed).
Next year the COT will just be the C. Next year Jimmie Johnson will have even more swagger in his step, with two champion ships to defend. Next year more turkeys will be sacrificed to the god of hot oil, and we will start a new season, there will be new drivers to learn, new team configurations, different configurations, new sponsors and new attempts to cheat and win in Racing, Nascar style. There will be a lot of tattoos altered too. I'll be there and I expect the crowd to be bigger at Rich's too. A formal invitation will be sent to all the "Fryers" in good standing, I'm sure. This year's line-up included Kay (Sweettreat), Mel (Oldetimeygirl), Dave Gansert (3DRacing), MIke Wilson (Billiken Racing), Pam Sipes (numberfourpam), Ed Sipes (fasteddie787), Rich of course (hd20tonyfan and kingoftheforrest), Jami Day (JD Racing) her son (Dalton or Alston I don't know) and her friend Eric, Mike McDaniels , Jenni (jenntenn), Dave's wife Judy and myself (Red Racer).
We half expected Travis (Mascot), and Liz (best race girl) but I learned that their invitations were not properly delivered, we also expected Maddie(peanut butter pie) and Guy Tucker (coorzguy), Lil' Joey and maybe Phil Gibson (Juan Pablo's Good Ole Boy Bitchslap) with Lojak in tow, but that failed to materialize.
Game over dude, game over. That race is run. I just don't have the pictures to prove it.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Miscellaneous Account, Miscellaneous Day
Morning.
I got the call at 5:54AM. My phone was calling me to awaken. I expected it. I programmed it to do so. I got up. I left the lights off and used the ethereal light from the phone display to find my way around the bed. I made it to the master bath. I master bathed in the shower. I selected socks, underwear and shirt in the Near Dark (no thanks to Kathyrn Bigelow) once again using phone to see my way to wardrobe. Dressed, I kissed the missus and drove to work.
Seventy.
The drive was fine. The morning was still thinking it was night there was little evidence of solar illumination. I took the nearly complete Super 70 corridor drive, there were no construction workers. She is all but done, and the Speed Limit signs are 55mph again. I set the cruise at 55, and rolled on. I arrived downtown at 7:05 AM
Impression of Dawn

Burr
Before I went to work I stopped at the Conseco Fieldhouse Starbucks. My Starbucks. Two of the three Stephanies that work at My Starbucks were there and I got a free grande water for being the only customer during their first hour open. The water is always free and I always get one but it was offered as a Free water this morning, I gladly accepted. The sausage breakfast sandwich was delicious although not free. I ate and read some of Philip Vail's account of "The Turbulent Life of Aaron Burr" in paperback, I planned on reading more, instead I looked out the window at the wind oh, and I plucked from my bag of tricks (there are no tricks in my trick bag, but there was a notebook) a notebook into which I recorded an impression (ink pen and roller ball delivery system impression to be exact) of the arrival of the light and the start of the day. Here I offer it to the world unedited.
11/17/07 8:03 AM
Watching the sky lighten as the sun comes up. I am looking
west from Starbucks. The dirty and drab streets gain contrast
as a wispy clouded sky presents itself. The blue and white
flags across the street move gently with the influences of a
light, northerly breeze. It is 37° and looking to be a pretty
day outside for anyone who has a pretty day inside state of
mind. I just want it to be over so I can go back to bed.

buxbimmr
I clean up my mess, get a refill on my coffee and drive to the store parking lot. I don't expect the day to be of any value to me at all. If it wasn't the Canon Demo day I would be off. I was scheduled off last year on Canon Demo day and have suffered for it ever since. I have heard dozens of times that it was the best single day we've ever had. That I could have made a boat of booty from Canon company spiffs and "Made my Month" all in just that one day. That is why I wasn't expecting history to repeat. At our pre-opening pep talk I noticed that I put the lid was back on my coffee with the sippy hole directly over the overlap seam which causes structural integrity loss and a seam channel that directs some of the java treat to the garment of the unlucky cup inverter. I created a vacuum seal on the straw to my free water by placing my finger tightly over the end, and dribbled water over a paper towel and addressed the residual effects of the loss of structural integrity mentioned above. Someone pointed, another smirked and Bruce and Phil looked and one said "What?" I looked up and said. "Nothing, just another bonus of being Chuck." Customers came and went. The day came and went. The ticket count rivaled that of last years record. The dollar amount about a third of that hallowed retail summit. History Never repeats.
Song time, "History Never Repeats", by Neil Finn, Split Enz, Wiatta
History never repeats
I tell myself before I go to sleep
Don't say the words you might regret
I've lost before you know I can't forget


There was a girl I used to know
She dealt my love a savage blow
I was so young, too blind to see
But anyway that's History

I say
History never repeats
I tell myself before I go to sleep
Don't say the words you might regret
I've lost before you know I can't forget

You say I always played the fool
Well I can't go on, if that's the rule
Better to jump than hesitate
I need a change and I can't wait

History never repeats
I tell myself before I go to sleep
And there's a light shining in the dark
Leading me on towards a change of heart

History never repeats, history never repeats
Chuck Pace © 2007
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I heard someone repeat the, "Just another bonus of being Chuck" line. I'm Charlie Brown, Jerry Lewis and Gomer Pyle all rolled into one lest successful package, and boy ain't it a treat.
It's Not the One You Go to Bed With
city entrance ohiost
Ohio St. Looking East from New Jersey St. Chuck Pace© 2007
So its the one I woke up with again, that's good enough for some guys. Heck its good enough for me most of the time. But the one I wake up with is often a pain, a nagging insistent bitch that boils my brain until I have to look for a substitute. Substitute now that sounds good. But am I looking for a real substitute, or just trying to get the one I woke up with out of my head? Heck, sometimes I don't even go to bed with the one I would prefer, but I still have more choice then than with the one I wake up with. Where did this one come from? Obviously we had an encounter sometime in the past, maybe we shared a dance? How did you get in? What can I do the relive the good times, or maybe how do I get rid of you? My wife doesn't always understand. She doesn't' always have the thoughts of one old swinger or another, or some bouncy younger thing she can't get off her mind. They don't get into her head that way. She doesn't get the urge to grab on to one of the hotter ones that makes your heart beat a little faster and your feet want to do some wandering, not the way I do.

Here is the one I woke up with. 1979's "Century City" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

TomPetty&theHeartbreakersDamntheTorpedoes
Sometimes I wanna leave you
Sometimes I wanna go
Right back where I came from
Back where I belong
But it never lasts for too long
Always goes away
Well I s till don't look for reasons
Thats much too hard these days

Why worry about the rain?
Why worry about the problem?
Honey century citys got everything covered

Well your mama gave you lovin
Mama held you near
Baby mam a cant do nothin
Honey mama just aint here
And you can pretend all you want to
But that wont work no more
No you cant run back to daddy
Yeah you tried that once before

Why worry about your father?
Why worry about your mother?
Honey century citys got everything covered

Were gonna live in century city
Go ahead and give in, century city
Like modern men, modern girls
Were gonna live in the modern world

Were gonna live in century city
Go ahead and give in, century city
Like modern men, modern girls
Were gonna live in the modern world

Sometimes I get discouraged
Sometimes I feel so down
Sometimes I get so worried
But I dont know what about
But it works out in the long run
Always goes away
And Ive come now to accept it
As a reoccurring phase

Dont worry about the rain
Dont worry about the problem
Honey century citys got everything covere
Were gonna live in century city
Were gonna live in century city
Were gonna live in century city
Were gonna live in century city

Chuck Pace © 2007
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More about Traversing Bodies of Water
Matthews CB#1_L
Matthews_CB3_Sm
The Park also has a bench, a guest register with a comment section, a paved turn around area and a river overlook. When I was leaving Matthews I called my dad and told him how nice this one was, he said you probably don't have time today but there is a covered bridge in Geneva too (I would have figured all the bridges in Geneva would be conventional). There is another bridge in Highland Park in Kokomo, that I haven't seen in a couple of decades also. Here is the kicker, I have been looking for obscure or onesy, twosey bridges, I haven't been to Putnam or Parke counties camera hunting yet.
A Much Needed Day
Matthews_CB2_Lg
The New Cumberland Bridge and Park in Matthews , Chuck Pace © 2007
I got exactly what I wished for. The auto-parts fairy, was very good to me. The High Flow Pressurized Fuel pump works as advertised, quietly and willingly. Still I dilly-dallied a little yesterday after installing the pump and starting the car a few times. It was not reluctance that caused the delay, oh contraire, it was planning. I had to decide where my wanderlust would take me. The only place I had pre-decided was Matthews, a small farming community in the Southeast corner of Grant County. I had never been to Matthews but during a long distance conversation with my father about the Rush county covered Bridge day Jenni and I had a few weeks back he mentioned that my late Uncle Donald had worked in a little town that had a covered bridge in it. It was south and east of Jonesboro was all he could remember, so I got on Google maps and narrowed the search, I mentioned Fowlerton and Gaston, but those weren't it so I zoomed in until smaller towns emerged. He remembered Wheeling, but there was no Wheeling I could find, then there she was, Matthews on Wheeling Pike, south-south east of Jonesboro. Yep, he said right next to a cemetery.
Summitville_Sunoco_Ghost_Lg
Ghost in the Machines, Empty Service Station In Summitville., Chuck Pace ©2007
Matthews_CB_Sm
So after the fuel pump was pumping, I started finding a route that kept me away from hi-speed highways and got me into the "grid" that is the state of Indiana with a few exceptions. So with plans in hand I left at a quarter after 11:00. I decided to go from Frankton again, since my last trip through there it was dark. I stopped at the cemetery in Frankton, recognized far to many names, and then made my way north and east. From there on to Orestes and Alexandria my old haunting grounds, and a side trip through tiny Summitville. I stopped in Summitville, got a bottled water and peach pie pastry and then took small narrow farm roads to Matthews. The covered Bridge in Matthews is one of the nicest I have seen, there is a park, picnic tables, even a boat launch if you want to take your canoe or powerboat under the bridge.
Covair Farm
"Barn Fresh" Corvairs on the way to Fairmount. Chuck Pace ©2007
Remember when
After Matthews it was up toward Jonesboro on Wheeling pike, which winds and meanders a bit, until it hits SR-26 which takes you to the Birthplace of James Dean; Fairmount. Once again my Uncle Donald comes into the picture, since my Grandmother; Ruth Pace babysat James Dean and Donald when they were toddlers, at a farm just a few miles from where both are buried (as well as my grand parents and other family members) in the Fairmount cemetery. From Fairmount I continued east on 26 until I was only a few miles from where my parents lived in Greentown before they moved to Florida full time about seven years ago. I detoured through a tiny, tiny burg named Jerome, also of the curvy, grid uninhibited variety of roads. This town is the home of Frank Short who's wife Sandy, was one of my mothers best friends before she passed away a few years ago. I drove through Greentown, where I haven't been since the folks sold their house and moved. Then it was time to start back toward Indy and home. After Windfall and Hobbs (which is a bend, not even a burg) I decided to
Courthouse Sign
jog over to Tipton on SR-28, home of the pork-festival where they crown an attractive (skinny) pork-queen every year. Out of Tipton south again on SR-19 through Atlanta, Millersburg, Arcadia and Cicero heading to Noblesville. I chose to shoot over to Westfield and take 31 to Keystone, since the interstates would be jammed. I was arriving back in Marion County at evening rush-hour. I was home, and showing Jenni my picture record by 6:15. I took photos at all the little towns where I stopped except Greentown and Jerome.Tipton CH_Lg
The Tipton County Courthouse, Tipton IN. Chuck Pace ©2007
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Cold but Fulfilling
pump process
Well my hands are cold, it is 38° out there right now and I had the garage door open to better see. Still the whole affair took less than an hour. The new pump popped right in and is working like a champ. I reprogrammed the date and time into the Mâdchens onboard computer and the radio codes since the battery was disconnected for over a week. She was so happy to get fuel that she purred like a kitten and asked "Bitte Herr, dürfen wir gehen auf ein Feld Reise?"("Please sir may we go on a field trip?"). Perhaps. I've been wanting to go Matthews to see their covered bridge, and I have a lot of time on my hands now that the car is running. Yes, why yes we can. I have to get out of these gassy smelling cloths and we are off.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Looking Up
As the holiday season stops creeping in and gets ready for its full on charge, I am at home on a
fuelish
day off. A much needed and perfectly timed day off too I might add. The ebay-ed pump arrived in the mail box yesterday and I will attempt to re-locate it to the fuel tank yet this morning. I have the experience of removing the old one and attempting to install the improper replacement, so the steps will go quicker with more assurance this time. The 'engineering' involved is already quite involved and impressing. I just have to reverse the steps of the removal of the improper item and re-seal the compartment. I head off to do that now, I will return momentarily.


Electric fuel pumps above, the old (dead), the new and the pre-pump filter.

Chuck Pace © 2007

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Dis)Appointment With Destiny
So to make a long story short, we got back from Tennessee and I worked all week. I don't have any money to speak of so I haven't been going out.
I ordered a fuel-pump at O'Reilly that turned out not to work, but the brighter side is I got the old one out of the tank and know how to put a new one in. Jenni found one (several at one place) on e-bay and I tried to order it, but the problem with my pay-pal from two years ago was not resolved (but will be in a week or so--another story and not all that captivating,
[you mean this one is?]) which is why I have not been getting all those intended "donations" from my web site button. Be patient friends it should work soon. ...Now back to the regularly scheduled drudgery and diatribe, already always in progress... So Jenni ordered the one (of several) and it is shipping out of California today priority three days (for everyone else we'll see how long for me).
Football you say, did I even watch the game? Are you nuts? We played very well, our defense put more pressure on Brady than a super-model line up at the maternity ward, but in the end we also made key mistakes in key moments. That 4th quarter they stepped it up and we got ]k by the dazzle. Sometimes it is better to take the sack than try to duff off the ball without control, I'm just saying. But Pats a team of destiny? No and Maybe yes, considering there is no pre-ordained anything (watch HEROES tonight if you don't believe me) they are making things happen, and that is just good football. Are the ugly prima-donna's, that exhibit the worst sportsmanship of any collection of 45 individuals ever? Are they poor sports even in victory? Whiners? Yes, and they are winners too. But so are the Colts. This was one game. Not the end of an era or a season or any hopes... just one contest taken to the wire by the two best teams in this years version of the NFL. So we regroup. We kick some tail and we talk about what almost was. They have to be very thankful to continue, their real test was the closest game they have played all year, our defense the toughest on the field (not on paper like Washington's) and our mistakes more than their play (which was far from a so-called team of destiny) gave them the victory. Sour Grapes? Not really. I wanted a Colts win I always do and will, and there will be lots more this year. I'm thinking re-match.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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