See Ed. Ed works at a store. Ed started working at the store in September of 1998. Ed has worked at the store for a long time. Working makes Ed hungry and thirsty. Ed likes to eat and drink when he is hungry or thirsty. Ed likes to drink beer. Sometimes even after he is no longer very hungry or very thirsty, Ed will drink beer. Ed has a lot of friends. Ed and his friends drink beer together. They have a good time when they are drinking beer. Ed and his friends tell funny stories, and laugh a lot. Laughing is good. Laughing releases certain chemicals into the blood that make our bodies work better. Ed and his friends like to go to a certain place to laugh more than other places. It is called a tavern. A tavern is a place where grown up people go to laugh. A tavern is like a playground inside, where grown up people can play. The tavern where Ed and his friends like to go is called the Chatterbox. A chatterbox is somebody who talks all of the time. I bet you know a chatterbox. The Chatterbox tavern is not a person, but a place where Ed and his friends can go and talk. Ed and his friends hear and tell stories and laugh and have beer.
See Pam. Pam works for an insurance company. Pam is in public relations at the insurance company. Public relations is how big companies keep people from hating them. By doing some nice things big companies can get away with a lot of not so nice things. Public relations is like giving the teacher an apple. If you give the teacher a lot of apples maybe you won't get time out for pushing Billy Buttface into Stinky Susie in the lunch line. Public Relations is supposed to make you think of the apples and not the bullies. Doing Public Relations makes Pam hungry and thirsty. Pam likes to eat and drink when she is hungry or thirsty, too. Pam likes to drink beer too. Pam has a lot of friends too. Pam and Ed made friends at the Chatterbox Tavern. They have a good time when they are together and drinking beer.
Pam and Ed fell in love. Love is like a really big pool of water. When you fall in a really big pool of water you get in over your head. You have to learn how to be in the really big pool of water. You have to learn to get back to the top and not drown and die.
You can learn to swim. Then you like being in the pool of water. Then you don't ever want to get out. Pam and Ed decided to get married. They wanted to have a good time together more than just at the Chatterbox. Pam and Ed are in the Pool and they don't want to get out. Pam and Ed are not really going to stay in a pool forever. Saying a pool and love are the same is a type of metaphor. A metaphor is a way of comparing two dissimilar things (things that are not really the same like you and your crybaby sister or stupid brother), to make a cognitive connection. If you know how a ball looks and I say the sun is like a ball you know how the sun looks (but a ball won't give you a sunburn or make you go blind looking at it so they are not exactly the same, see). Pam and Ed got in the pool last Saturday at 2:40, that is when they got married to each other. They are on their last day of their honeymoon today. Tomorrow Pam and Ed will be back at the Insurance company and the store. Tomorrow Pam and Ed will probably be at the Chatterbox. The Chatterbox is in Pam and Ed's pool too. They will probably have funny stories about their trip, and we will drink beer and laugh and things will be more like before, and we will release laugh chemicals into our bodies. It will be good to see Pam and Ed again.

Chuck Pace © 2007
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Last night after work Rich and I hit the bowling alley for three games of either self improvement or self abuse. My first game was a clean game, one of the three best games I've ever bowled and it doesn't really matter. Still I'll recap, just so it is a matter of record somewhere in the universe of unimportant achievement (I am featured there a few times for things of absolutely no consequence). four strikes, two spares, four strikes and 9 - or in the nomenclature of keglers everywhere. XXXX8/9/XXXX9- for the grand total of 255. Not bad for a single game (or even two) then came the great equalizer, the 112 game, and a bookend good game of 180 a full 21 over my average on the PBA experience league I am struggling with. Then there is the average for the night, 182. not so shabby either. Like I said this is not a sanctioned evening or league or anything so it is just bragging, and not bowling in the great cosmos of concern. Still XXXX8/9/XXXX9-!, I had 126 it the 5th frame, 14 over the TOTAL of the next game.
Such is life. At least I had witnesses who I bowl against in 'real' situations.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Crappy Cell phone series of the Motor City Madman. Chuck Pace © 2007
Last night was the ear splitting, side splitting, by god gospel of Soul music as delivered by Uncle Ted Nugent, this was the 6th time I have seen The Nuge, and the closest I've ever been to the stage. He had very kind words to say about the military, the freedoms we observe as Americans and his birthplace in Motown. He had a few criticism of the Democratic front runners in the upcoming battle for the next Presidential term. He rocked the house. He is Uncle Ted, that's what he does. "No Sh*t!"
Phil Gibson, Jeff Mongan, Jay Woodworth and I were there with a bunch of Uncle Ted Virgins, namely Jenni, Rich Culy, Jo Mongan, and Rita Morris. Jeff and Jo both caught guitar picks, and Phil had one of the drummer's drum sticks in his hand for a half second before it was grabbed away.
The opening act, Alex Winston, a young female rocker and her band rocked as well and played for almost 45 minutes, then a half hour of roadies and weapon specialists later the ears were assaulted like Anzio Beach when The Nuge went on. The crickets underwater ear treatment from close proximity to Uncle Ted's amps and stacks has lasted through the sleep cycle, and Jenni says "If this is permanent I'm gonna be pissed," pointing to her ears this morning (it's a good thing she pointed, otherwise I might have had to say "Huh?"). Today is in fact the anniversary of my Jenni's birth and we plan on a quiet, calm celebration at home after a brief visit to the Chatterbox this evening. Given the comparison, it is sure to be a quiet evening. Hopefully the whoosh, rush cricket fest will be over by then.
Happy Birthday Jenni, We'll learn sign language together my dear.
WHAT? I'm sorry one more time, What?
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Wendy, I'm home. Chuck Pace © 2007

Cart after the horses, mowing stuff and der lake.
Well no mater the occasion, the event or the endeavor you are likely to run into a couple of asses. It's just inevitable. Even here in Indiana's Amish country I ran into some this morning on my out to take some scenics for the post. I did happen to get a nice picture of the stagmire water at the lake with oak trees suffering from Oak Gall. Then I turned around and there was the Overlook, er Gastof and I framed a shot with all the gall I could muster there too. So asses and gall. You would think that would put a person off. Not so. It is a lovely day, and soon my friends Ed and Pam are going to be the full-on Sipes' instead of the Damn-near Sipes'. The mini vacation atmosphere here is surreal.

Got any sugar cubes? Hay? Got any gum? Chuck Pace © 2007
Chuck Pace © 2007
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The drive down was nice. The traffic on In-45S sparse. The weather perfect. So here we are at the Gastof Amish Village awaiting tomorrows nups between Ed and Pam. It looks like a perfect weekend for a wedding. Some of the Roberts people are here, more will be in attendance tomorrow. Some of the Chatterbox people are in attendance, more will be tomorrow as well. Some are the same people, more will be the same people tomorrow. Sounds like a theme doesn't it , some, some-more. Jenni and I got to Montgomery (7 miles past Loogootee) just at sundown. There in the rockers out front were Guy and Maddie, and Pam was holding court with Dawn, and her Aunt, then we saw Kay. Jenni ran inside to use the facility after the 2 hour and 30 minute drive, the I went in to get our room. That's when Mike Wilson walked up. Soon Kay, Jenni, Mike and I were on our way to Lagootee for foodee. Uncle Bucks was the recommended spot from our hostess and bride to be. We get there only to find out that they had closed the kitchen 5 minutes earlier, so next best thing. The ice cream parlor just up the way. Jumbo Tenderloins, fries and Patty melts later we were back at the hotel not being disturbed or making a fuss. Just wanting sleep and restorative dreams. Rich had made it by the time we arrived, and we talked briefly about the drives, and the upcoming weds then finally off to the room for the mentioned relax and restore deal. That was when I realized I didn't pack the power supply for my Laptop. So I am draining the battery even as I inform and report. Duh. More later when I assault the battery, and curse my disturbing CRS!
Chuck Pace © 2007
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And the two (photos) shall become one: Chuck Pace© 2007
The days of the mourners are upon us, but as the way of life and its cycles, so are the days of the regalers. Melissa Shoffner will not be attending Ed and Pam's wedding due to the the passing of her grandmother earlier this week and the subsequent funeral. Guy and Maddie Tucker will be at the wedding, after Maddie's father's service on Friday morning, he passed a couple of days ago after succumbing to his battle with failing health. Maddie, Guy, Mel, Kay Jenni and I convened at the Chatterbox last night to do a little commiserating and a little fellowshipping and basically to get the minds off the losses and passing. DAvid Andrichik also had news of a passing of sorts, the old Chattervan has gone to the great salvage, and last night he and Travis speed up to Penske Honda to take possession of the 'new' Chattervan, a 2004 Odyssey with under 35,000 miles on it. She looked beautiful glistening in the waning sunlight as I drove by on my evenings shift change. Before the shift, before the Van or the bereaved there was The Brooks and the Greens having their way with the patio. Then the crew described above started to assemble (some assembly is always required), then out of the blue Pam Walker came a walking with her friend in from Atlanta Beth Volpert-SerreroJenni left, Pam and Beth left, Guy and Maddie left, Nicci got there and brought me much needed thumb exercise in the form of her rock hard back which I massaged for a few minutes. Jim Kelly and his wife Hadley popped in as I was popping out, and just like that it was over.
The photo of The 5 Boobs (Beth Chuck and Pam) was taken by Mel Shoffner

Chuck Pace © 2007
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It was a day like so many and night like no other, like so many other nights have been. First there was the days enterprise at the camera junction, like any grouping of five days much was the same, but there were people on vacation presumably in Las Vegas, and people off because of days to work later in the week, and people on who were never on before. Miss Molly the youngest of the children of the boss was in attendance for the very first time as an employee and did a bang up job on the telephones and will be in attendance again this fine day as well. She will do in a pinch, for sure and is a bright and enthusiastic addition to the crew. So work was different, even thought the general set of events and time tables that make a work day work were still all there in metronomic fashion.

So Where are the Keys? Keys, Please; Mel Shoffner ©2007
So what happened after work? Another rare visit to the Chatterbox. Well not rare for me, well done for me please. It was a very busy eve on the Ave. I was warned that I might have to park in Jasper Indiana and hoof it due to constraints of a parking nature, this was what befell my bride when she was looking for her parking spot a few minutes earlier, and she supplied the warning. This was not the case for me as I got a spot relatively near the Box. That was the beginning of the end of my evenings luck. The attendees at last nights impassioned play were for the most part the same actors as one might normally (used for repetition of characters not the character OF the characters which is far from normal) expect on this small stage. I spied with my little eye, The Brooks, the Greens, Steph and Eric, David And Deanne and at my table Mel (the newly acclaimed wizardess of mathematics) of Blister Toe Hollow, and the aforementioned doom sayer of parking purchase my Loverly Bride with her new coif blazing in the evenings solar glow. Also in attendance for most of the affair and in the spot of royalty was the car of an unusually absent little buddy. Then Kay arrived and the little buddies ride was forgotten as stories of bloom, bud and blossom were entertained. Connie the Z, wandered in from stage right and took up a chair while trying to push a stool. She inquired as to the whereabouts of Rich, who was at home building the perfect beast and his bride a wedding marvel. She then asked if she could leave a stool in my back seat, I reluctantly agreed as long as it was a dry one and could be easily removed. Brooks easily removed himself, and Connie advanced one chair. Joan marched home and stopped only long enough to talk to each insect, blade of grass and anyone hapless enough to be on the sidewalks. Jack had another fermented vine swallow or two. Connie asked if I could help with the stool, and I made like a pigeon and got the roost into the rear of the Madchen, she then did as Brooks,Joan and now Steph and Eric had done and made her way back home. I paid my respects to the cast and my due to the tiller woman, and prepared for my next phase of the evening. Before I could shake a stick Mr. Travis DiNicola in the flesh (mercifully covered in finely tailored garment) walked in from stage left and asked for my cellular attention, that I may inform the Missus (Mrs. Missing) that he would be not home before a quarter hours interval with the Box peoples and a pint, sadly she answered neither her Cell, work or home communications, although an odd mans voice did on a subsequent retry. Quicker than Jack Green can identify a piece of cake, Travis cancelled his beverage order and was off in the green ghost, hula girl shaking her grass in his face which left a better parking space for Kay who went to Jasper to get her van and returned with me holding court on the parking arena in question. Now I could take a fine evening to the brink of ruination on the next phase.

Viper! The PBA Experience. Oil Pattern #2, Trounced me, bit me and constricted around my will to bowl, crushing the bones of my self respect and dignity in the process. I pulled a miserly 125 average for the evening from the fangs of this first attempt, and am no more familiar with how to overcome it now than I was when I walked in. The only thing that went right at the alley was the end, and the transferring of the stool from Bimmer to Jeep. I came home and attempted to sleep it off. A crushed spirit needs more than an evenings Zz's to replenish, oh I will get better once I get back to work and routine. Pinch me I must be dreaming.

Chuck Pace © 2007
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Good Morning Dear Friends: Its been a long weak. A hard week, and an odd week. As I was working so hard to revitalize and defoliate the victory garden with my trenching tool, mothra nature was tearing down other parts. That can sure work up an appetite. The heat was dizzying, and I started to get dehydrated, it made me feel like I was high. Well I am high all right, but not on false drugs, I'm high on the real thing, Powerful Gasoline, A clean Windshield and a Shoe shine!
Is it going to be alright? Oh, ho ho you bet. Yes dear friends its going to be all right here at the Powerhouse Church of the Presumptuous Assumption of the Blinding Light, (Sing Along) "Oh Blinding Light, Oh Light That Blinds, I cannot See Look Out For Me. Uhn, Ooff." Yes Friends welcome to Paster Flash's Hour of reckoning with Organ Leroy and his organ again, and the 50 voice St. Louis Aquarium Choir, I'm Deacon E.L.Mouse. Opps. I was channelling the Firesign Theatre there. It must be because of a conversation I had with Brad and Sue on Kay's front porch at the side of her house that most people think of as the back. We were discussing the values of "Don't Crush That Dwarf, Hand Me the Pliers" from 1970, I got my first copy on vinyl in 1978 and promptly memorized it for just such occasions as a Shrimp-Boil/Turkey Fry/Broken Box/Fireworks/Garden extravaganza 29 years into my future. (It's the Future, I say live it or live with it) Well it all worked out. I am glad I planned ahead. Too bad I didn't think to set my alarm clock ahead about 15 minutes 29 years ago as I am now out of time to continue this post. I have to get to Work. I have another day of sales and reckoning ahead. Driving and crying. And more garden work awaits my eventual return. Those are the headlines, now the rumors behind the news. Sorry Dear Friends I will continue this discourse on the concourse after my dailies are done. Time is an evil mistress.

Chuck Pace © 2007
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Work , work. work, work, work. Hello boys(and girls) did you miss me? I was up at 9 yesterday, out the door for errands by 9:15, and back from all my running (o.k. driving) by 10:20, from then on it was yard projects (one of which meant tearing up the world HQ), mowing, cleaning and such, planting and watering and basic yardening until about 4:15 when, I had to go get something to eat. I was dizzy and trembling, and suffering from heat prostration I'm sure. The wind was something fierce yesterday too, it ripped my trumpet vines off the side of the house, and broke one of the lesser limbs of my tulip tree. Gads.
Shifting gears: On wednesday Jenni and I stopped at Wendy's for lunch and took the fast food to Garfield Park, where we were harassed by squirrels. Three separate ones watched us eat, one bold one came and sat on the bench a couple of feet from Jenni,. We tried to give him a piece of lettuce from a sandwich, and he was having none of it, then Jenni tried a fry, and that fit the bill nicely. Pretty soon he was coming up and taking fries right out of our hands, while we warned the bushy tailed rodent that these were empty hollow calories, he none the less insisted on begging several more during our visit. I was lucky to have my camera and got a few good shots of our lunch company.

Chuck Pace © 2007
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There is so much to discourse. The weekended, the Ryan Martin graduation suarée, the Kay-lossal turkey fry and shrimp boil-o-rama. The sunday that saw no race, but did see Rich with his hands in the till or on the tiller. Then there's the gnashing of teeth and snarling of sleeplessness, the zombie state that ended in a bowling alley and a 158 average for 4 games, for some and a 136 average for others. The accursed battery on the Bimmer, and the lack of motivation. All the people that moved through the mist of the last four days. The fireworks, the conversation, the cultured conch (that fritters and wastes the hours in an off hand way), Jeff "the jumper" Barber--on his birthday, Mary E. Martin and her birthing remembrance. Yes there is much to bring to light, but sadly I can not now. Which means I probably won't get back to it, so I can only apologize to those left out and these kept in the dark.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Sam Salon, Inside looking out. Chuck Pace © 2007
O.K. admittedly I don't live diagonally, but I do relax that way. Yesterday was the first day and first friday of June. First Friday's in Indianapolis mean gallery openings and walks. Art on display, for purchase and for optio-cortical stimulation. This is a good thing. Jenni and I started out by doing the Mass Ave. part of the process. We went to the Noreast end and worked our way back. We Came, We Saw, We Contemplated. One of our first stops was at the Evolve Salon where my friend Sam Sartorius was on exhibit, and she looked swell, her art did too. I wished for a few pieces, my favorites costing just slightly north of what I paid for my Bimmer (she is a '93 remember) and left feeling poor of cash but rich of experience. We also stopped in at the Best Chocolate in Town, and troubled the trufflers just a tiny bit. Liz was beezily hovering over her confections and assisting people needing to re-sweeten their teeth and failed to recognize Jenni or I for a bit, oh but when she did, what a grand laugh we had. I inquired of Mrs. Missing about the whereabouts of Mr. Missing and was remembered of the Read-A-Thon he was so involved in. I was sorry that I had not been able to participate, but I thought it was Read A Ton when first informed, and was just too tired from the recent moving of other friends heavies to participate. Thon! Oh I get it like Thong. G-string with out the G. All clear now, but who would volunteer for that type of activity? Travis sure, but...(butt).

Felinni Triangle? Fountain SQUARE, Chuck Pace © 2007
Oops, Side tracked, here comes my train again... So then off to the other Mass Galleries and their was a preemptive strike at P & J's Fuzzy paws for treats for our pooch where we bumped into the Alpha Bitch who arrived bumperless. I do no denigrate or insult the Alpha Bitch with this cognomen for she, Sue Hobbs to the pre-offended, chose this name herself for her endeavors with animals of quadrapedic ambulation and no real sense or need of political correctness, just a scratch behind the ears every now an then and pat on the head for being good. With Truffles and treats in the boot we fastened our bonnets (metaphor) and followed the flow to Flux, where we were greeted by Mel and then some boorish ass blocking our entry into gallery proper. It turns out I should have recognized the ass, it was my college friend Mike Bir and he was blocking for purpose and a good larf. He had it as did all around. It was good to see Mike and Kim and to meet their niece Rebecca. The art? Oh sure it was very cool. Once again I mentally kicked my self for not being a Hilton, Chase or Getty because there were treasures hanging (and crawling out of the wood work and floor vents) that I wanted to take home here as well. Stimulation and conversation sated it was time to sate the beast within. Jenni, Mel and I thought to have a bit of a dinner, and walked to the Fountain Square Theatre Building to have victuals. That was the plan, we were invited to try the rooftop seating and stood up there like uninvited guests for 10 minutes just to be told that the wait was approximately an hour more.
We came down hard. No we took the elevator actually. Ended up looking at the Fountain from Deano's Vino's patio. I noted that I felt like I was in a Federico Felinni film while on the patio, you will never see a more diverse group of people than were parading, driving , yelling and moving about the Square (unless your are at a carnival or circus). One observance. Fountain Square is a triangle. Somebody failed terribly at the whole geometric shapes recognition here. Kay and Mark came out of the Fountain Squ..Triangle building after an aborted Dugout attempt that they were powerless to correct, and we conversed for mere moments, then all dispersed and the art was done.
Now it's off to Grads and Grub.

Foundry Entry photo by Jenni Pace, its not a square either. Jenni Pace © 2007
Chuck Pace © 2007
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The Crackercade made it processional stop at the monument. Chuck Pace © 2007
There, dotted around the Circle were these lovely young ladies looking like mid-1960's Stewardess' all in Red with clever yellow piping on their berets. Thank you for choosing Air-Mensus I'm your head stewardess Flo and you are on our flight to fancy and Nostalgia with stops in Crackerville and Toasted Wayfaria. There were at least a dozen of these Strawberry and Banana Tarts interspersed dispersing Ritz Crackers. Rich and I happened upon them as we were making way to my bank on the north end of the Circle. Enjoying the Sunshine and Circle when the ho-ho's thrust buttery baked cracker goodness upon us. As we came down on the North side of the monument steps there was even a motorcade of cracker chippies, with mopeds, vans, trailers and giant inflatable boxes of simulated baked joy. I said to Rich as I was stuffing four samples packs of Ritz Cafe Crackers into my pants pocket, "This will be remembered as the big Cracker Push of '07." We Crackers do love our baked buttery ripple-cut wafers, salted and baked to sunny golden goodness, and what better place to display them than a Circle bathed in sunlight covered with saltines baking in natures oven, to bad we couldn't have had some pressurized cheese substitute or chive and onion dip to add to the moment. All that was really missing was a big wafer mascot floating in the soupy air of the humid midday. Hey, I know a big salty Mascot type, some have known him as Chip, now a rowdy CEO, not an oreo, but a true cracker by the book.
I gotta' get done here it's almost Crunch Time and I have to get to work. At least I don't get toasted or I would have to avoid the munchies!
I miss my little buddy the Mascot, oh where oh where ... Probably sittin' at the Ritz with Carlton your door man, Rhoda?
Chuck Pace © 2007
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