Disconnected
07/12/10 10:43 PM | Permalink
I found this unpublished blog I wrote some 4 or 5 weeks ago. Proof-read and completed it and now I finally share it with the world! I leave the date as it was when I started this therapy of blogging!
I have not been spending a lot of money on myself lately, so when I got a big bonus check on June 16th I decided it was time for some me time. I've been carrying an original iPhone for a few years (the last two years- not my original original but a replacement original after misplacing the original original).
On a "fun filled weekend one day escape" with the missus, to Geneva Indiana and yet another covered bridge expedition, the iPhone "the first" found itself a way out of the handy belt carrier I got to keep from loosing it. To my surprise I had no clue where it might have ended up, and our day trip was at an end. I wanted to stay in a motel near the "drop site" but practical Jenni thought the dog would like to see us and have some business to do for us instead of to us.
The next day we retraced our steps in the sweltering daylight but to no avail. Then came the nightmare from Blackberry hell. I was told by a very helpful ATT phone sales rep I could use a Blackberry until the new 3G models hit then I could retrieve my sanity and exchange the Crackberry for the iPhone upgrade, since I was eligible for an upgrade. Yet another wondrous surprise awaited in the form of a denial that such a thing could be done. I had used my "upgrade" privileges up by buying the temporary Blackberry, and the rep got a nice fat commission for moving a less popular phone to another shill who believed that the representative should and would be honest. I talked to the VP of ATT before it was all done and he told me point-blank that he didn't care if I was unhappy or not, or that an employee in his company had intentionally lied and deceived me. He said that there was nothing that they cared to do for me. He also told me that the employees are told to move the Windows based Blackberry phones and accessories since there is a much greater profit margin on them than on the wildly successful and popular iPhones that Apple markets.
After four an a half months in the Blackberry Asylum I was indeed ready to be committed, that's when a glorious and wondrous thing occurred. By then my hatred of the butt dialing , pocket dialing, dashboard dialing monstrosity was legend in the circles I pass through, and as I came back from lunch I was created by Phil Gibson and one of his friends who just so happened to have an original iPhone he wanted (or more accurately his wife wanted) to get rid of. He had his eye on some item in the store that was around $200. I asked if I could buy that item and trade him for the cherished Holiest Holy Grail of Cellular communication devices and he agreed. The next day December 13th 2008, he returned with the sacred item and I made the deal. I had checked the employee price on the item he wanted (I still cannot remember what it was it was so inconsequential by comparison to my renewed happiness) and only got to take about $20 off before taxes and ended with a net gain of $6.40, but I did end up with the real prize.
That evening I walked back into my local ATT store. Inside, I looked for the friggin' bastard who sold me the Blackberry and a bill of goods, but he was off or somebody had taken him to secluded spot and beaten him so severely that he'd never be able to use a phone again let alone sell one to the unsuspecting (at least that was what I imagined). After a pleasant 15 minute wait for my turn at the podium with the power giver 20 something phone merchant I was set back on the righteous path. At home I had to wait to be reconnected after plugging the cherished machine into my Mac computer, within two hours I had my address book back (the BlackBerry never did properly sync with the superior Mac system) and within 2 1/2 hours after my reprieve from insanity, I had my preferences set, my alarms loaded and my life back.
What did I do with the Blackberry? I put it in a case and left it on my bookcase shelves to moulder, I refuse to inflict that curse of a communicator with anybody else. My breath dialing, butt dialing bump dialing breeze dialing days are over I got my life back and hopefully spared someone else the BB agony of ownership by not reintroducing that horror back into the collective Microsoft hive!
Chuck Pace ©2010
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I have not been spending a lot of money on myself lately, so when I got a big bonus check on June 16th I decided it was time for some me time. I've been carrying an original iPhone for a few years (the last two years- not my original original but a replacement original after misplacing the original original).
On a "fun filled weekend one day escape" with the missus, to Geneva Indiana and yet another covered bridge expedition, the iPhone "the first" found itself a way out of the handy belt carrier I got to keep from loosing it. To my surprise I had no clue where it might have ended up, and our day trip was at an end. I wanted to stay in a motel near the "drop site" but practical Jenni thought the dog would like to see us and have some business to do for us instead of to us.
The next day we retraced our steps in the sweltering daylight but to no avail. Then came the nightmare from Blackberry hell. I was told by a very helpful ATT phone sales rep I could use a Blackberry until the new 3G models hit then I could retrieve my sanity and exchange the Crackberry for the iPhone upgrade, since I was eligible for an upgrade. Yet another wondrous surprise awaited in the form of a denial that such a thing could be done. I had used my "upgrade" privileges up by buying the temporary Blackberry, and the rep got a nice fat commission for moving a less popular phone to another shill who believed that the representative should and would be honest. I talked to the VP of ATT before it was all done and he told me point-blank that he didn't care if I was unhappy or not, or that an employee in his company had intentionally lied and deceived me. He said that there was nothing that they cared to do for me. He also told me that the employees are told to move the Windows based Blackberry phones and accessories since there is a much greater profit margin on them than on the wildly successful and popular iPhones that Apple markets.
After four an a half months in the Blackberry Asylum I was indeed ready to be committed, that's when a glorious and wondrous thing occurred. By then my hatred of the butt dialing , pocket dialing, dashboard dialing monstrosity was legend in the circles I pass through, and as I came back from lunch I was created by Phil Gibson and one of his friends who just so happened to have an original iPhone he wanted (or more accurately his wife wanted) to get rid of. He had his eye on some item in the store that was around $200. I asked if I could buy that item and trade him for the cherished Holiest Holy Grail of Cellular communication devices and he agreed. The next day December 13th 2008, he returned with the sacred item and I made the deal. I had checked the employee price on the item he wanted (I still cannot remember what it was it was so inconsequential by comparison to my renewed happiness) and only got to take about $20 off before taxes and ended with a net gain of $6.40, but I did end up with the real prize.
That evening I walked back into my local ATT store. Inside, I looked for the friggin' bastard who sold me the Blackberry and a bill of goods, but he was off or somebody had taken him to secluded spot and beaten him so severely that he'd never be able to use a phone again let alone sell one to the unsuspecting (at least that was what I imagined). After a pleasant 15 minute wait for my turn at the podium with the power giver 20 something phone merchant I was set back on the righteous path. At home I had to wait to be reconnected after plugging the cherished machine into my Mac computer, within two hours I had my address book back (the BlackBerry never did properly sync with the superior Mac system) and within 2 1/2 hours after my reprieve from insanity, I had my preferences set, my alarms loaded and my life back.
What did I do with the Blackberry? I put it in a case and left it on my bookcase shelves to moulder, I refuse to inflict that curse of a communicator with anybody else. My breath dialing, butt dialing bump dialing breeze dialing days are over I got my life back and hopefully spared someone else the BB agony of ownership by not reintroducing that horror back into the collective Microsoft hive!
Chuck Pace ©2010
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Angry Saturday
04/03/10 03:14 PM | Permalink
The skies have stopped crying for awhile but the argument is not over yet. The clouds are still angry and there is sure to be more tears soon by their tempermental looks. Jenni went off to meet a friend, literally. I ramped up the Bimmer, literally and changed the oil while it rained a few hours ago. Then, that task out of the way and the rain waining for a while I moved tbe Bimmer to the drive and cleaned the garage. The car windsheild was next, then a coating of rain-ex was applied. So even if there is another fight in the heavens I should still have a clear path ahead.
10 minutes before I took this photo it looked like armegeddon.
Hours later and all I can say is, boy did I get that wrong. The evening turned out to be nice and the Butler BullDogs beat Michigan State and advanced to the Finals against Duke!
Chuck Pace ©2010
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10 minutes before I took this photo it looked like armegeddon.
Hours later and all I can say is, boy did I get that wrong. The evening turned out to be nice and the Butler BullDogs beat Michigan State and advanced to the Finals against Duke!
Chuck Pace ©2010
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Goose Big Loser, Gander Much Grander
04/02/10 09:04 PM | Permalink
The best part of the day for Jenni was getting the wind in her hair and the wheels beneath her accelerator feet. The 'Vert came out of the shop at lunch time, and then it was game on for the bride of Frankensteins driver.
Meanwhile in the heart of Final Four country Mr Frankenstein driver stopped into Taps for a pint, then headed to the Avenue to procure pooch prizes for the blind Terrier and another libation. Ms. Maggie was at the helm in the musical mothership, on Mass Ave., so a visit was required. She played a snippit of Mayer Hawthorne, an it was enjoyed. Then she said he's at Radio Radio tonight, and I have a plus one ticket. I perked up like Maxwell House on a chilly January morning. I could be the one to plus I gushed and she was non-plussed by the thought. thus it came to pass that I saw a great rock'n'roll, do-wop, soul show at Radio Radio.
When I got home I heard that Jes and Jen didn't even stay for the main act, and I felt bad for the girls. Still my day was good, and I think in the long run Jenny and Jessica still had a good night too. To bad it was April 1st, but I don't think Jenni will get fooled again.
Chuck Pace ©2010
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Moving, Making & Doing Things
03/11/10 10:02 PM | Permalink
I should get used to quiet week days off since I don't have a two day weekend for the next 3 weeks. Thursday (today) was my day off this week, I used much of this day going through and discarding a lot of stuff that has built up over the busy winter. Being in retail I only had three or four days off from Thanksgiving day to New Years day and the days I did have off were crucial to resetting my physical and mental bearings. So things piled up. Things got left behind. Things got forgotten. Today I did a lot of things for and to these things.
With Jenni back to work after five weeks, due to breaking the 5th metatarsal (the one that attaches to her left little toe) I had this day off and the world Headquarters all to myself. Charlie the blind Rat Terrier would argue that I didn't, since I had to take him out three times before Jenni's return home, but still, as I am the only verbally capable bipedal, opposable thumbed being in this place I claim solitude as my house guest.
I didn't get rid of as much stuff as I did address it, order it and re-groupe it with its like partner stuff, still I did fill a trash bag with the disposed carcasses if three month's daily pocket and mail leavings. Did this leave much more room in the rooms? Grander gallery to gaze upon? Sparkling sparse surfaces to inspire and surprise? Nope.
I will say that each small success was a pleasant result, and I didn't break one sweat in the process.
I also added more photos to my Facebook albums, became fans and friends with more people places and things and played in photoshop making a new profile picture illustration which I'm also sharing with you right now..
Chuck Pace ©2010
With Jenni back to work after five weeks, due to breaking the 5th metatarsal (the one that attaches to her left little toe) I had this day off and the world Headquarters all to myself. Charlie the blind Rat Terrier would argue that I didn't, since I had to take him out three times before Jenni's return home, but still, as I am the only verbally capable bipedal, opposable thumbed being in this place I claim solitude as my house guest.
I will say that each small success was a pleasant result, and I didn't break one sweat in the process.
I also added more photos to my Facebook albums, became fans and friends with more people places and things and played in photoshop making a new profile picture illustration which I'm also sharing with you right now..
Chuck Pace ©2010
Snooze Blues
02/26/10 07:39 AM | Permalink
They say that breaking "waking" up is hard to do , well I know, I know it's true...
I reset the timer and pushed the snooze until I got I involved in an REM state and was having a great exposition dream during a 10 minute countdown snooze. Before the alarm alarmed me I was clawed and patted by Charlie telling me of his own particular alarm which we all wanted to go off outside. ...
I'm up. I'm Up!
Hey it's after 7:30!
Come on Charlie wait for me to get a coat on...
I gotta pull these boots on...
...good boy here's a treat. Now where did I leave my brain, my consciousness, my billfold...
start the car to warm it up some...
finish post? nah there's not time for a post...maybe I'll just fluff this pillow on the couch with my head for a minute what harm could...
nope! ...yep, that cars running! see you soon!... off to Starbucks for sure then work, I suppose...
zzzzz, wha? zzzChuck Pace ©2010
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I reset the timer and pushed the snooze until I got I involved in an REM state and was having a great exposition dream during a 10 minute countdown snooze. Before the alarm alarmed me I was clawed and patted by Charlie telling me of his own particular alarm which we all wanted to go off outside. ...
I'm up. I'm Up!
Hey it's after 7:30!
Come on Charlie wait for me to get a coat on...
I gotta pull these boots on...
...good boy here's a treat. Now where did I leave my brain, my consciousness, my billfold...
start the car to warm it up some...
finish post? nah there's not time for a post...maybe I'll just fluff this pillow on the couch with my head for a minute what harm could...
nope! ...yep, that cars running! see you soon!... off to Starbucks for sure then work, I suppose...
zzzzz, wha? zzzChuck Pace ©2010
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Attitude Latitudes
02/24/10 10:05 PM | Permalink
Last years trophy-robot has been kegling on my mantle piece all alone for too long!
So yesterday on Facebook I declared February 24th optimism day, and gosh oh golly it was a swellistic day darn tootin'! Just about everything went right for me, and nothing bad found me hiding behind my smiles and cheer.
I got up and picked out great primary color clothing, bright and wonderful. Next, I decided to take US 40 into downtown Indy instead of hopping on the Interstate like I usually do, and the drive was smooth and hassle free, and I was listening to the new Pete Yorn -Scarlett Johannson CD "Break Up" and really enjoying it!
At work I heard horror stories from coworkers about their drives in on various highways and interstates about cars flipped on their sides and others off the highway 20 feet or more with people standing around gawking. I said I had no problems getting in and was enjoying a perfect cup of Starbucks coffee while hearing of their delays, detours and trials and tribulations. Later I enjoyed talking to the few brave shoppers that came out in spite of the latest White Death Snow show going on outside (although it wasn't sticking, and I think many drivers just forgot how to drive in Indiana winter weather after just three days dry warmer weather) and felt the satisfaction of helping them with camera issues and helping them select the right gear for their needs.
At lunchtime I walked to Ike and Jonsey's to have a favorite, (their awesome Patty Melt) and was able to finish two more chapters in the latest book I'm reading, Michael Crichton's "Pirate Latitudes". It is getting to the first plateau and very exciting.
After Lunch I got to see some old Herron friends Brian and Mary, whom I haven't seen since MaryJane and Jody's garden party last year, and to help several more fledgling photographers. I also sold a few more cameras and got closer to my sales goals for February.
After work it was off to the Old Pointe Tavern on Mass Ave to meet up with more old Herron friends: Russell A., Rob and Marsha D., Jenny McG, and my Jenni and to meet Russell's new GF Dawn. While there I learned that my bowling team is now in 1st place in the Chatterbox league after 7 weeks. We started in 9th, dropped to 12th (last) and since have take all 8 points four times and taken 6 of 8 the other time in 7 weeks of kegling. I am understandably proud of my teammates Annelise, Roe and David as well as myself for putting up such strong numbers week after week. We need to stay on track for 5 more weeks and take home the big trophies! My one little trophy for highest scratch game in last springs Chatterbox Jazz League needs company!
Chuck Pace ©2010
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Excercise
02/24/10 07:09 AM | Permalink
I have been reluctant to talk in the blogosphere for awhile, unwilling to sum up my disappointment in the outcome of the superbowl, or to embellish on the remarkably winter-like winter for the laff and the gaff, and the reluctance has weakened my blogging brain muscles a bit. I need to get back on the proverbial horse and ride it to where ever it takes me, and I'm doing just that. when I fired up the old blog-wear at 7:00 this am I had no direction or idea what would roll off my grey matter and through my digits, and yet here is a whole bunch of words just being spewed onto the phosphors and LED's of the inter-webs.
To horribly paraphrase Mr. David Byrne:
I'm blogging,
I'm blogging again,
I'm blogging,
I'm blogging again,
I'm cleaning
I'm cleaning my brain
You cant see it
Until it's finished!
Again I apologize the the Talking Heads and Mr. Byrne, who's writing prowess and imagination leave me paled and in the shade by comparison.
Here we are at the beginning of the 8th hump day of 2010, and I'm feeling optimistic. The weather is "maybe" starting to mellow, my bowling team is doing quite well and I'm involved in the organizing of another Herron When It Was Cool reunion party for mid year! And I'm putting some laps on my blogging muscles just to limber them up a bit. What could be more better? Well other than real content in my blog, but it's a rebirth, soon spring will be upon us and I will be sprouting seeds of ideation as mother nature is sprouting seeds of growth and renewal. Hot Damn! It feels good in here!
Chuck Pace ©2010
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Getting Back on the Highway
01/26/10 06:34 AM | Permalink
True, I haven't blogged in quite some time. In fact it was December 12th when I put my last ether-borne thoughts in the Gorified Webways. So much has transpired since:
Funerals: My Aunt Carolyn's', and just a couple of days later my best friends father was taken in a fatal car crash.
Automotive woes: The fuel system on the truck and the arctic weather have sidelined one of our primary means of transportation; Alternator failures sidelined the 'Vert' for a week and a half too, and I've been forced to drive the Frankenstein in the salty winter muck even though it's not technically ready, body or mechanically to be a daily drive, (although the restoration project has been going well, there is so much yet to do).
December Retail: Another grueling December, the retail push, the lack of days off, and the over time all mixed with the gloomy grey days of sunlight shortened winter takes a physical and psychological tolls on the body and spirit, yet it is again survived.
Physical Tolls indeed: Jenni breaks her foot while walking and has surgery, and crutches and a cane and time off, though she is doing remarkably well considering. She was back to work in just a week, and the stitches come out this week.
Bowling: The winter league continues and our team languishes near the back; the Chatterbowling league ends and another starts in mid January and the first couple of weeks are tough.
Television: The holiday schedule pre-empts much of the family mainstay programs, then the Late Night TV wars and their lunacy grabs the american psyche, meanwhile our "Pop-icon american Idol-style President" promises not to pre-empt or blackout "American Idol" or "Lost" in his upcoming State of the Union Address.
World Events: The devastating earthquakes in Haiti, the toll of human life and the astonishing compassion of the world communities, especially of the American People. The ongoing relief and rebuilding.
Sports: The Amazing Run the Indianapolis Colts are on and the NFL Championship parring of the two #1 seeds in the conferences to be played in less than two weeks.
All of this and other things like Terrorism (which is a dirty word to the administration, and is never spoken aloud), economic collapse, unwanted political intervention into our daily lives and suppressed news; the Political scene in turmoil and the will of the American people ignored in both houses, but not at the voting booths.
Yes, have been absent but not hiding, just surviving. I sit ready to get on the on-ramp and start driving my thoughts again, but the process may be slow and intermittent and the flows and rush-hours of reality dictate. Don't honk, I'm going as fast as the traffic will allow.
Chuck Pace ©2010
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Funerals: My Aunt Carolyn's', and just a couple of days later my best friends father was taken in a fatal car crash.
Automotive woes: The fuel system on the truck and the arctic weather have sidelined one of our primary means of transportation; Alternator failures sidelined the 'Vert' for a week and a half too, and I've been forced to drive the Frankenstein in the salty winter muck even though it's not technically ready, body or mechanically to be a daily drive, (although the restoration project has been going well, there is so much yet to do).
December Retail: Another grueling December, the retail push, the lack of days off, and the over time all mixed with the gloomy grey days of sunlight shortened winter takes a physical and psychological tolls on the body and spirit, yet it is again survived.
Physical Tolls indeed: Jenni breaks her foot while walking and has surgery, and crutches and a cane and time off, though she is doing remarkably well considering. She was back to work in just a week, and the stitches come out this week.
Bowling: The winter league continues and our team languishes near the back; the Chatterbowling league ends and another starts in mid January and the first couple of weeks are tough.
Television: The holiday schedule pre-empts much of the family mainstay programs, then the Late Night TV wars and their lunacy grabs the american psyche, meanwhile our "Pop-icon american Idol-style President" promises not to pre-empt or blackout "American Idol" or "Lost" in his upcoming State of the Union Address.
World Events: The devastating earthquakes in Haiti, the toll of human life and the astonishing compassion of the world communities, especially of the American People. The ongoing relief and rebuilding.
Sports: The Amazing Run the Indianapolis Colts are on and the NFL Championship parring of the two #1 seeds in the conferences to be played in less than two weeks.
All of this and other things like Terrorism (which is a dirty word to the administration, and is never spoken aloud), economic collapse, unwanted political intervention into our daily lives and suppressed news; the Political scene in turmoil and the will of the American people ignored in both houses, but not at the voting booths.
Yes, have been absent but not hiding, just surviving. I sit ready to get on the on-ramp and start driving my thoughts again, but the process may be slow and intermittent and the flows and rush-hours of reality dictate. Don't honk, I'm going as fast as the traffic will allow.
Chuck Pace ©2010
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Eulogy
12/12/09 03:18 AM | Permalink
I went to bed very early last night, the strain of the week, the job and especially the day's news were all factors. I got to work on Friday just before 9:00 AM, from a pocket I heard my phone ringing as I was taking off my winter weather barriers. The ring was in a tone reserved just for my parents and daughter.
With one arm out of a coat sleeve I took a call from my folks, my father was on the other end, "I have some bad news about your Aunt," he started and my mind immediately jumped to my Aunt Jo who has been ill and is over 80. So when he continued with, "Carolyn died this morning," I was unprepared for that statement. It was too unbelievable to be a shock moment, I still was processing the Jo thought so I only said, "What?" He repeated the news. He told me of some of the specifics. He told me Erika, her daughter, my cousin, was holding her hand as she passed. That the night before, Erika tried to cheer up her mom and Carol said don't joke Erika pray for me instead. I can hear that statement in her voice in my head as clear as a bell, that was Carolyn.
Carolyn was born on September 11th 1949, the youngest of the several children of Lloyd and Violet Martin, 10 years younger than her nearest sibling, my mother Madge.
I remember her room at my grandparents house in Marion. I remember the beads and bright decorations, the Bobby Sherman and David Cassidy posters, the Partridge family album and record player. I remember Carolyn as a teenager, as an older playmate and as a babysitter. Carolyn was less than eleven years older than me. Carolyn used to come and stay with us occasionally when we were in grade school and my parents were both working, she was our house and baby sitter. I remember cousin Cathy staying for a day or two as well and we all walked to the IGA in tiny Swayzee to get candy and treats, and Carolyn bought with her baby sitting money.
Both of her parents were gone before she was much more than twenty. After her parents passed she moved around between her older siblings Mona and Jim's places and took odd jobs and managed to care for herself.
At around her 25th or 26th year Carolyn met a man named John Vaughn, a man with a checkered past, and questionable moral fiber, a man who had spent a bit of time incarcerated. Carolyn , a woman of deep religious faith and belief, saw John as a man repented, as a man changed and in the true spirit of her Christian faith as a man redeemed.
John proposed, she fell in love and they married and moved to Delphi Indiana. John was driving delivery trucks for a seed company, making stops at grain elevators and farms and they head a nice little place in an old house near downtown Delphi. I spent a week there on summer break just after my 16th birthday.
Within a year Carolyn was pregnant and John was gone. Carolyn was back in Marion and on public assistance, and soon her daughter Erika was born. I don't believe Erika would have benefited from having her father around and he never attempted to see his child or supported either of them with any support or childcare money, John's absence may have been a blessing, and Erika was definitely a gift and blessing to Carolyn who, through struggle and hard times raised her daughter in a house full of love.
The last few years Carolyn has been living in Arkansas near her niece Cathy's family and her sister Mona and her family. I have missed seeing all of them, and watching Erika's children growing up. I still remember all the Thanksgiving dinners and the Christmas gift exchanges, and will miss them. I will miss the humor and caring, I will miss, teasing and sharing, I will miss the affectionate hugs. I will miss my Aunt Carolyn very much.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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With one arm out of a coat sleeve I took a call from my folks, my father was on the other end, "I have some bad news about your Aunt," he started and my mind immediately jumped to my Aunt Jo who has been ill and is over 80. So when he continued with, "Carolyn died this morning," I was unprepared for that statement. It was too unbelievable to be a shock moment, I still was processing the Jo thought so I only said, "What?" He repeated the news. He told me of some of the specifics. He told me Erika, her daughter, my cousin, was holding her hand as she passed. That the night before, Erika tried to cheer up her mom and Carol said don't joke Erika pray for me instead. I can hear that statement in her voice in my head as clear as a bell, that was Carolyn.
Carolyn was born on September 11th 1949, the youngest of the several children of Lloyd and Violet Martin, 10 years younger than her nearest sibling, my mother Madge.
I remember her room at my grandparents house in Marion. I remember the beads and bright decorations, the Bobby Sherman and David Cassidy posters, the Partridge family album and record player. I remember Carolyn as a teenager, as an older playmate and as a babysitter. Carolyn was less than eleven years older than me. Carolyn used to come and stay with us occasionally when we were in grade school and my parents were both working, she was our house and baby sitter. I remember cousin Cathy staying for a day or two as well and we all walked to the IGA in tiny Swayzee to get candy and treats, and Carolyn bought with her baby sitting money.
Both of her parents were gone before she was much more than twenty. After her parents passed she moved around between her older siblings Mona and Jim's places and took odd jobs and managed to care for herself.
At around her 25th or 26th year Carolyn met a man named John Vaughn, a man with a checkered past, and questionable moral fiber, a man who had spent a bit of time incarcerated. Carolyn , a woman of deep religious faith and belief, saw John as a man repented, as a man changed and in the true spirit of her Christian faith as a man redeemed.
John proposed, she fell in love and they married and moved to Delphi Indiana. John was driving delivery trucks for a seed company, making stops at grain elevators and farms and they head a nice little place in an old house near downtown Delphi. I spent a week there on summer break just after my 16th birthday.
Within a year Carolyn was pregnant and John was gone. Carolyn was back in Marion and on public assistance, and soon her daughter Erika was born. I don't believe Erika would have benefited from having her father around and he never attempted to see his child or supported either of them with any support or childcare money, John's absence may have been a blessing, and Erika was definitely a gift and blessing to Carolyn who, through struggle and hard times raised her daughter in a house full of love.
The last few years Carolyn has been living in Arkansas near her niece Cathy's family and her sister Mona and her family. I have missed seeing all of them, and watching Erika's children growing up. I still remember all the Thanksgiving dinners and the Christmas gift exchanges, and will miss them. I will miss the humor and caring, I will miss, teasing and sharing, I will miss the affectionate hugs. I will miss my Aunt Carolyn very much.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Another Round, or Let's watch Mobius Strip!
11/27/09 06:49 AM | Permalink
The cycle and the circle are unbroken, everything is cyclical; morning, afternoon ,evening, night..., summer, fall, winter spring, summer..., climate..., birth, life, death..., the tides, the rotations of planets, stars, galaxies and the Cosmos. Truly what comes around goes around, and simple man is not in control or capable of controlling the forces of nature and time.
Have a great post Thanksgiving Holiday season, and we'll all meet here again after another 365 more rotations of the planet and another rotation of the sun and do it all over again. Really. I promise.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Monday, Monday
10/07/09 06:55 AM | Permalink
First day back at work after Vacation. It was good to be back, I did a lot of stuff during the break. Work was just like I remembered it, and after work was the traditional visit to the Chatterbox before heading to the bowling alley for week 4 of 12 in the Chatterbox League.
Joining me at the Box were Mike Wilson and Rich Culy (along with the Commish, Deanne, Rick H. (the Judge) and the background noise of Bill Brooks and Jack and Joan), Listening to ''A Ghost In The House'', by Red Light Driver (Play Count: 2)
I had a decent night in the Kegling Arena (157,189,157), as did my team collectively (we took all three games and the 8 points that comes along with that kind of thing). We moved up from 11th place to 5th while team Four of Five plummeted further into last place. After that contest was decided several of the Kegler crew headed to Rockets to launch spheres at each other in a contests of pool. My teammate Kristi Wright came along as did Rich Culy , Jill Ewing, Chris West, Davie Sherry and David Andrichik (the Commish). The whole time I was a bit distracted, in the trunk of the 'Vert was a box of BMW parts from Bavarian Autosports to continue the augmentation of the Blue Frankenstein, and I knew that by the time I finished the pool games and watching Brett Favre take apart his old team I wouldn't have time to tear into the priority project. What was the priority project? Putting the two tiny gears back into the odometer of the Bimmer so that the miles could once again go rolling by as I enjoyed the ever improving company of my project car.
I've waited over two years to put these guys into the instrument cluster above, I guess one more day won't kill me.
Listening to ''Drive She Said'', by Stan Ridgeway (Play Count: 1)
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Joining me at the Box were Mike Wilson and Rich Culy (along with the Commish, Deanne, Rick H. (the Judge) and the background noise of Bill Brooks and Jack and Joan), Listening to ''A Ghost In The House'', by Red Light Driver (Play Count: 2)
I had a decent night in the Kegling Arena (157,189,157), as did my team collectively (we took all three games and the 8 points that comes along with that kind of thing). We moved up from 11th place to 5th while team Four of Five plummeted further into last place. After that contest was decided several of the Kegler crew headed to Rockets to launch spheres at each other in a contests of pool. My teammate Kristi Wright came along as did Rich Culy , Jill Ewing, Chris West, Davie Sherry and David Andrichik (the Commish). The whole time I was a bit distracted, in the trunk of the 'Vert was a box of BMW parts from Bavarian Autosports to continue the augmentation of the Blue Frankenstein, and I knew that by the time I finished the pool games and watching Brett Favre take apart his old team I wouldn't have time to tear into the priority project. What was the priority project? Putting the two tiny gears back into the odometer of the Bimmer so that the miles could once again go rolling by as I enjoyed the ever improving company of my project car.
I've waited over two years to put these guys into the instrument cluster above, I guess one more day won't kill me.
Listening to ''Drive She Said'', by Stan Ridgeway (Play Count: 1)
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Missing. Inaction
09/17/09 11:22 AM | Permalink
Over two months? Really? Where has the time gone? If you have been following my blogs, then you have been bored for a bit. If you do follow then you will see a blog dated 8/6/09 which I wrote on that date and saved but never uploaded, primarily because I was running out of time and had missed a day of work due to the migraine attack the is referenced in that very post. Today I added the image and uploaded that post.
Today I have been extremely productive and busy as well. I have been working on my BMW again, getting power window issues resolved, and sunroof issues resolved, and sanding down more dings and body flaws. As I write (3:33PM) I am on a break from working on driver seat issued since I had to come in to wash up enough to go buy some metric sockets to continue working on the seat. I thought I would give an updated account of my trials and tribulations.
End of part one:
coming soon...part Two; Frankensteins Makeover
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Today I have been extremely productive and busy as well. I have been working on my BMW again, getting power window issues resolved, and sunroof issues resolved, and sanding down more dings and body flaws. As I write (3:33PM) I am on a break from working on driver seat issued since I had to come in to wash up enough to go buy some metric sockets to continue working on the seat. I thought I would give an updated account of my trials and tribulations.
End of part one:
coming soon...part Two; Frankensteins Makeover
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Lasterdays
07/31/09 07:11 AM | Permalink
So ends another month, they sure fly by. So much has happened in this one that it is hard to recap. Lets look at Chatterbowling for example. That league started as a 10 week league but we got 12 teams together, so it was expanded to 12 weeks. Then there was a sub-pool that saw lots of action but timing in the summer is bad even for subs the league had to take one week off near the end because 11 additional subs were needed, and there weren't 11 available. We also took the Memorial day Monday off to give many a 3 day weekend.
The end of the league saw the usual suspects near the front, and my team shamefully in 10th place, we had a run in he middle where we lost all the points three weeks in a row, that turned out to be an insurmountable obstacle for team glory.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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The end of the league saw the usual suspects near the front, and my team shamefully in 10th place, we had a run in he middle where we lost all the points three weeks in a row, that turned out to be an insurmountable obstacle for team glory.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Always On is On. On and Off isn't.
07/30/09 03:27 PM | Permalink
There. Another attempt. power
Give Me Power, Or give me dark! Ummm, just power please. Please. Please
... as I was saying, I left off on the 13th thinking I'd be posting again in a day or two, but man life can sure get hectic.
I have every other Thursday off, so I'm off right now (insert predictable comment here) enjoying a pretty morning and getting back in the blogging.
My last Thursday off, the 16th didn't really go as planned, I had a big bonus on my check and I had options on how to stimulate the economy. I also had a few legitimate errands to run, one was to the Mac Experience where I hoped to get my iPhone debugged since it would not communicate with my Macs anymore since the last Mac iTunes firmware update. I talked to David Wainscott there and he got me back in the flow with their more modern and powerful computers. I considered bringing one home, then declined.
Before I left the house I paid my ATT bill and saw that I could update to the newer iPhone 3G or 3Gs, contemplated that move but thought it best to get the current iPhone back in contact with the mothership iTunes software first. Good call.
After lunch and that visit with the Mac Experience fellows, I drove back home and stood in the back yard contemplating the patio/deck. I could add on. I had the truck and time and I had money for treated lumber. While in the yard I decided I'd water the garden as I contemplated yet other valuable uses of my time and efforts and well the center of the hose bib for the garden hose stripped out, I thought well maybe I'm going to office depot to get a new hose bib assembly instead of lumber. I unmounted it from the wall, saw where the pipe goes into the bib and took my pipe wrenches to those to disconnect it, instead of a successful quick and easy plumbing task I got troubles for my trouble. The poor grade copper pipes from the builders and contractors who assembled our home for us 17 years prior twisted in two making a simple job impossible for my plumbing skill set.
Here is where I have to mention that a several years ago the single knob faucet in the guest bathroom shower and tub started leaking into the tub. My father (a veritable renaissance man and jack of all trades) offered to assist me in replacing the failing unit (we were in Florida at the time it was offered, and he had not seen the unit first hand). Time passes, more water under the tap (bridge just doesn't work here) and the problem gets worse. Finally a year ago Mom and Dad are up visiting and a unit is purchased to replace the failing constant-runner. Upon further review, dad was reluctant to tackle the project, since the wall would have to be cut through from the backside. Not only that but pipes would need to be cut and fitted and brazed back together too. I didn't have the torch and tools at the time to make that happen nor the budget to get them.
Back to the day of concern, Thursday the 16th it was still early in the day around 12:30 and I had turned the water off inside the house to keep a bad situation from getting out of hand totally. Next step Dial-One, and within an hour a Benjamin Franklin Punctual Plumber was pulling up in front of the house, I told him of the problems I had had with my bib (without getting any one me) and he said no problem money can't fix (in completely different phrases, but that was the gist), next I walked him into the secondary bathing area and explained the situation there, he thought the guts could be replaced and quoted me the flat rate total for both jobs. Just under $500. I said have a good time and stayed out of his way. The hose bib was project one and took a goodly piece of time (but it was not an hourly deal, flat rate quote and all), that job done on to the bath. Here he came to the inevitable conclusion that the piece in there was also cheap-ass crap and could not be repaired, therefore replacement would be the only way. I brought him the unit we had purchased and asked if he could install that, he said it would save money and proceeded. That took a long time too but finally the job was done, Jenni had been home for over an hour, the water was back on and not trickling when the tap was off and Michael the plumber was leaving at 7:45. The bill with the cutting brazing and install was more ( $908) than a simple parts replacement and I was able to spend all of my bonus pay for a hard month of sales on one days efforts. I didn't get to buy toys bit it was worth it, and had to be done, and my water bills are going to shrink!
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Give Me Power, Or give me dark! Ummm, just power please. Please. Please
... as I was saying, I left off on the 13th thinking I'd be posting again in a day or two, but man life can sure get hectic.
I have every other Thursday off, so I'm off right now (insert predictable comment here) enjoying a pretty morning and getting back in the blogging.
My last Thursday off, the 16th didn't really go as planned, I had a big bonus on my check and I had options on how to stimulate the economy. I also had a few legitimate errands to run, one was to the Mac Experience where I hoped to get my iPhone debugged since it would not communicate with my Macs anymore since the last Mac iTunes firmware update. I talked to David Wainscott there and he got me back in the flow with their more modern and powerful computers. I considered bringing one home, then declined.
Before I left the house I paid my ATT bill and saw that I could update to the newer iPhone 3G or 3Gs, contemplated that move but thought it best to get the current iPhone back in contact with the mothership iTunes software first. Good call.
After lunch and that visit with the Mac Experience fellows, I drove back home and stood in the back yard contemplating the patio/deck. I could add on. I had the truck and time and I had money for treated lumber. While in the yard I decided I'd water the garden as I contemplated yet other valuable uses of my time and efforts and well the center of the hose bib for the garden hose stripped out, I thought well maybe I'm going to office depot to get a new hose bib assembly instead of lumber. I unmounted it from the wall, saw where the pipe goes into the bib and took my pipe wrenches to those to disconnect it, instead of a successful quick and easy plumbing task I got troubles for my trouble. The poor grade copper pipes from the builders and contractors who assembled our home for us 17 years prior twisted in two making a simple job impossible for my plumbing skill set.
Here is where I have to mention that a several years ago the single knob faucet in the guest bathroom shower and tub started leaking into the tub. My father (a veritable renaissance man and jack of all trades) offered to assist me in replacing the failing unit (we were in Florida at the time it was offered, and he had not seen the unit first hand). Time passes, more water under the tap (bridge just doesn't work here) and the problem gets worse. Finally a year ago Mom and Dad are up visiting and a unit is purchased to replace the failing constant-runner. Upon further review, dad was reluctant to tackle the project, since the wall would have to be cut through from the backside. Not only that but pipes would need to be cut and fitted and brazed back together too. I didn't have the torch and tools at the time to make that happen nor the budget to get them.
Back to the day of concern, Thursday the 16th it was still early in the day around 12:30 and I had turned the water off inside the house to keep a bad situation from getting out of hand totally. Next step Dial-One, and within an hour a Benjamin Franklin Punctual Plumber was pulling up in front of the house, I told him of the problems I had had with my bib (without getting any one me) and he said no problem money can't fix (in completely different phrases, but that was the gist), next I walked him into the secondary bathing area and explained the situation there, he thought the guts could be replaced and quoted me the flat rate total for both jobs. Just under $500. I said have a good time and stayed out of his way. The hose bib was project one and took a goodly piece of time (but it was not an hourly deal, flat rate quote and all), that job done on to the bath. Here he came to the inevitable conclusion that the piece in there was also cheap-ass crap and could not be repaired, therefore replacement would be the only way. I brought him the unit we had purchased and asked if he could install that, he said it would save money and proceeded. That took a long time too but finally the job was done, Jenni had been home for over an hour, the water was back on and not trickling when the tap was off and Michael the plumber was leaving at 7:45. The bill with the cutting brazing and install was more ( $908) than a simple parts replacement and I was able to spend all of my bonus pay for a hard month of sales on one days efforts. I didn't get to buy toys bit it was worth it, and had to be done, and my water bills are going to shrink!
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Ten. I did not intend at ten to jump in again.
07/13/09 06:54 AM | Permalink
Funny how time slips away.
Distractions distract, routine fails to hold sway.
Until the old routine is discarded and a new pattern takes the day!
It's not like I haven't done things to talk about or been places to mention or failed to do anything interesting along the way.
My last post was on July 3rd, and on that day I already had grand plans for the next day, plans that should yield a spectacular post too I might say!
It was all about Jenni, she loves Chi-town but hasn't been there in years,
I've been on day trips to Sox games and such and even an autoshow but she stayed home (in tears).
So on the second I got up on the 2nd I was already spinning my mental gears,
a day off can give you the time that you lacked to address such problems horribly in arrears.
The solution to this, a wonderful a weekend trip with Jenni to Chicago for sight seeing and fireworks cheers!
The Holiday already had me off for the day.
So on the third I told Jenni it's your time to play.
Call the Priceline negotiator, and arrange a double day stay.
She was bowled over, and flabbergasted and hardly knew what to say.
The room would be ready for check-in at three.
Ninety-nine dollars at the Hilton for two days, we were getting one free
And in the attached garage parking was cheaper too, a most reasonable fee.
We would walk around in the rain for hours, taking photos and talking, hardly holding our glee.
To see Jenni so happy and sunny and excited and joyful was really more like a present for me.
Taste of Chicago was on in Millennium Park
A lucky coincidence for an impromptu trip taken on a lark
A day spent walking and smiling and completely hitting the mark
Would only get better when the skies turned to dark,
And the band-shell concert was turned over for a quarter hour display of firework spark.
Migraine Theater
06/24/09 07:49 AM | Permalink
This was in my camera, I think it is the story of my day compressed into 10.2 million pixels. Looks familiar.
Prolog: Yesterday started like so many others. There didn't seem to be anything unusual or different at the starting gun. Just another day out of the blocks, in the rat race, and on a very familiar track. The drive into work? Unremarkable. De-caf coffee and sammich at S-Bux predictable. Just a small headache nibbling in the background almost unnoticed until undistracted.
Act One: The first hour of work, productive. The second hour the head started to ache, the hands started to tremble. By eleven it was obvious what was going on. I 'borrowed' three ibuprofen from a coworker knowing full well that it was not going to help much. I could feel the pulse of my enraged heart pounding in my wrists, chest and temples. The trembling hand told me that the jungle beat in my chest was building up a hyper-tension episode like one or two previous episodes I have barely survived. Jenni shows up for lunch and I am in throes of it. I decide to go eat and see if I can calm the raging beast in my chest and quiet the sanitarium of screaming maniacs in my cranium. It was the right call, and the wrong one all at the same time. Eating in a darkened Ikes with a hat on and sunglasses, taking deep slow breaths, and drinking about a half -gallon of water probably brought down the blood pressure a lot. Still I had to wait for the wife. I had to get to the Doctors office for the next act to play out.
Act Two: I'm sitting in exam room 3 (I think) the hat is pulled down, the sunglasses are on, the lights are off, the shade drawn over the window. Nurse Sheryl is wrapping my biceps with a velcro bag, pumping it up and getting a reading. The high end of my blood-pressure is two ticks under 160. (I 'normally' run between 120 and 125). I am doing the long deep breath thing and sitting easily in the chair. Time passes. The Doctor finishes with his scheduled patient, comes in and we discuss my occasional Migraines, the severity and the frequency. He takes another blood pressure reading, down to 154, an improvement, a plan is reached and he steps back out.
Sheryl returns with a needle for my 'hip' Toradol (sic). Loosen pants, slide slide down waist band, cool alcohol on upper buttock (hip) the sting. The injection brings a remarkable sensation. Nettles injected under the flesh, expanding nettles, or is it bee stings, lost of bee stings. I am asked to lay down for a bit in another room just to see if I don't die. Finally Jenni is led back to where I am in stupor. The nurse, Sheryl again says, We have something that belongs to you to Jenni. They laugh, nervous twitch makes my lips work a smile from an insane asylum and I start to sit up. One more blood pressure check, 146 and I'm released to the payment window. I pay in cash, they talk. I'm holding my receipt, and don't realize it. I'm waiting for a receipt I already have. eventually it dawns on me and I'm led squinting into a super-nova sunlight orgasm.
Act Three: I lay down in a very dark bedroom at home, I leave my sunglasses on anyway. It's 2:35 PM.
It's 5:45 PM I take off the glasses, and roll onto my side a pillow under my ribcage, Jenni came in to check on me.
It's 8:28 PM, I'm trying to get my regular glasses out of the case next to the bed. The head is dull and the room is soft-focus in the background watching me. I sit up. I'm better. I'm hungry.
Its 9:16 PM, I've eaten a bowl of cereal I'm back in bed. I turn on AMC, its after midnight Jenni is coming to bed, the TV is off.
It's 5:50 AM first alarm. I'm alive. Awake, and I have a foam rubber head the size of a medicine ball. Everything is dull, reactions, sensations, perceptions. I sleepwalk through the morning routine. I post an update. I post photos and I decide to do a blog, since I have something different to decry.
Epilog: 7:49 AM I'm finishing up the post and going to work, I will see if the sun is as bright as my memory of it yesterday. I am better, but the skin on my head feels like patchwork quilting applied with short staples. I'm better.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Three Times in a Month
06/15/09 07:54 AM | Permalink
Two Art Fair days shots of the houses I lived in at Herron. Above n the White House, (now Blue),
Below the Yellow House, now red.
Man, memory lane is getting crowded. I have been pulling in friends in facebook from all over the big blue marble, and because of the melancholy memory musings I have been up to the old campus twice for recon and to post photos, then yesterday I made another visit to the street where I lived, crossed walked, rode, run and stumbled during my college years. Yesterday was the Talbot Street Art Fair, I haven't been to one of those in at least 15 years, it is huge now. I went because I was offered free art from one of my Roberts camera store customers who I have been helping get her technical photography skills up to par so she can increase her sales and reach. I was only on the street for about a half hour, saw another Herron friend and a couple more Roberts customers too. But had to get back to the world-headquarters and mow since it looked as though rain would ruin my parade. Now my time, like my patience is limited, so I off to work will go, hi ho. 
Here's the one I chose. Thanks to Susan Semenick
www. suesemenick.com
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Reasons to be Cheerful, part 4.
06/13/09 07:49 AM | Permalink
Me with a Superbowl ring, Awesome #1.
It is awesome how social networking thing has enriched my life. I've found a bunch of long gone if not forgotten friends from college and even high-school, and one deluded soul who claims we went to elementary school together (I was the only one there other than Jeff Shane, I'm sure). If a tree fall in a forest and nobody I went to grade school is there to get clobbered by it did they really exist?
That's why I post, to cover the really tough philosophical questions of perception and existentialism, oh, and covered bridges and cars.
Also Ron Meeks is gone, but Howard Mudd and Tom Moore are back onboard with the Colts. yea!
Coach Mudd was in the store yesterday so I got it straight from the O-lines mouth!
Time to rush off to Nikon Day at Roberts! Have a great day, come see me and I'll put a Nikon in your hand and a smile on your face.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Pre-Derby Report
06/01/09 08:17 AM | Permalink
So Saturday was a mega-busy day for me. I got up at 7:45 in the AM and started game planning my day which coincidentally included games at the end. By 9AM I had already driven to get breakfast ate it. I came home and stared up at the trees and the damage that their limbs had done to the shingles at the front of the garage. Wind, weather and rapid arboreal advancement had done a number of numbers on the roof. I pulled out my trusty tool, decided there was no time for that and then went to the garage and grabbed my tree-trimming pole with curved blade and rope activated cutting blade. Within 45 minutes I had four giant limbs down, and was hacking them to bits with my electric chain-saw (the heat inside my leather-face mask was intense I wanna tell ya) then smaller devices designed to take apart finger sized arboreal appendages came into play. By 11:00 there was no evidence of my nefarious activities, and I was whacking weeds with my new Homelite dual feed electric trimmer/edger. By 12:30 the yard was mowed, the chairs back in a friendly grouping around the paver patio I built 4 years ago and I was contemplating lunch. Jenni, who had been at work since I awoke, said she would be home soon and I decided to crash until she arrived. Soon took something in the neighborhood of 2 hours but before 3 I had my fill of Taco Bell combo #1 and a beef meximelt kicker and was ready to clean up for some NRG action at the State Fairgrounds.
Upon arriving at the gates I was charged 3 smackers and told the lot where my cohorts were tailgating was full and I would have to park out beyond the cattle barns. The walk was not exactly refreshing, as I had to knee and elbow my way through the graduating class of Fishers spilling and milling from the Pepsi Coliseum. I don't think it was the senior class I think the entire town of Fishers Graduated, to what I don't really know, but I can tell you that manners weren't high on the requirements list. Finally I arrived at the blessed Toyota Pavilion lot which was far from full, found what I thought might me my party since some to the partiers were indeed friends. I walked into their presence and was presented a present of a Blue Moon by Mr. Onassis hisownself; Christian Brown.
Two small swigs gone a Police officer in his car stopped in front of us and ordered us to dump out the beers on the ground as he watched. So far the start of the fun part of the day was not going all bang-up grand. Christian pointed out the availability of adequate parking
and I agreed that I might not want to walk half-way to Speedway to retrieve my ride after the double header that was rapidly approaching its start time. To my unmitigated joy the same human speed-bumps that had the sidewalks blocked before were now bumper to bumper trying to exit out the two available exits which were still between me and my enjoyment of something more than crowds, heat and law enforcement. By the time I re-arrived and parked most of the denizens of the derby were heading inside. That's where I too was headed, having failed to find the tail-gate party or any of my friends I had come looking for. I was alone in a crowd of hundreds.
Upon arriving at the gates I was charged 3 smackers and told the lot where my cohorts were tailgating was full and I would have to park out beyond the cattle barns. The walk was not exactly refreshing, as I had to knee and elbow my way through the graduating class of Fishers spilling and milling from the Pepsi Coliseum. I don't think it was the senior class I think the entire town of Fishers Graduated, to what I don't really know, but I can tell you that manners weren't high on the requirements list. Finally I arrived at the blessed Toyota Pavilion lot which was far from full, found what I thought might me my party since some to the partiers were indeed friends. I walked into their presence and was presented a present of a Blue Moon by Mr. Onassis hisownself; Christian Brown.
Two small swigs gone a Police officer in his car stopped in front of us and ordered us to dump out the beers on the ground as he watched. So far the start of the fun part of the day was not going all bang-up grand. Christian pointed out the availability of adequate parking
Dipping into the vast well (of absurdity).
05/28/09 07:52 AM | Permalink
The Earth drinking it's share of sweet, wet gravity from a gravity feeder.
It happens to each and everyone of us at some point (or many points) , we all get fed up from time to time. Well I'm here to tell you that that is not always the case in nature. The photo above is of a gravity feeder. Gravity too has a hunger that must be fed, but it gets fed down. Without these gravity feeders placed strategically around the globe might we all just one day drift off into space? Watch your step you never know when it might be your last on good ol' Terra Firma.
To all you fans of Anti-Gravity out there a quick note, The Earth and I are pro-gravity and I'm sticking to it!
Chuck Pace ©2009
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The Harder it Gets, the Easier it Gets
05/23/09 07:12 AM | Permalink
It seems like the longer you go without something the harder it is to get back to it. If you exercise daily for three months then something like a vacation stops you from the routine, it is too easy to just stop. The justifications are :I didn't yesterday and I'm o.k" or even worse you begin to establish new routines, like hitting the snooze button instead of the weights.
Well that is true of a lot of things, like posting pithy or insightful information about your otherwise boring life on the internet proper. Before the social networking craze invaded my life and household I was a blogger. Now I have friends who are evading the social network thing and still look for content here in the chuckosphere. I've let everyone down including myself, and I want to, nay, need to do better.
At work I am supposed to be responsible for three blogs a week too, but once again, along came a spider named vacation, and another one named customer (a multi-headed amorphous blob with questions and needs and desires). With one less regular coworker and the new no overtime policy it is a bit more difficult to carve out a 40 minute window to add images and information of any relevance to the every growing stream of internet interdependence, so the store blogs suffer. Most days I'm spread thinner than the tarter sauce at the miracle of loaves and fishes event.
Monday at work I started another store blog, and got called into action, got to work on the images on Tuesday, sat down on Wednesday and imported the images and wrote some before the inevitable needed-ness clawed into the sanctum and drug me back to retail endeavors, and then tried in vain on Friday to polish it from its rough hewn exterior into a jewel. Still it sits like a lump as I didn't even get three uninterrupted minutes to concentrate on it's inner beauty.
So here I am trying to get a routine reestablished and blogging at home. I hope my once loyal cadre of viewers hasn't dwindled to just one or two hopefuls. Word will get out if I get the words out I thing and soon I will have an army of tens even dozens beating the virtual door down to see if I have more to do with my brain than puns.
King Crawdaddy in Stuart Florida
Picture if the Day. Well not so much unless I follow through, Todays picture.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Well that is true of a lot of things, like posting pithy or insightful information about your otherwise boring life on the internet proper. Before the social networking craze invaded my life and household I was a blogger. Now I have friends who are evading the social network thing and still look for content here in the chuckosphere. I've let everyone down including myself, and I want to, nay, need to do better.
At work I am supposed to be responsible for three blogs a week too, but once again, along came a spider named vacation, and another one named customer (a multi-headed amorphous blob with questions and needs and desires). With one less regular coworker and the new no overtime policy it is a bit more difficult to carve out a 40 minute window to add images and information of any relevance to the every growing stream of internet interdependence, so the store blogs suffer. Most days I'm spread thinner than the tarter sauce at the miracle of loaves and fishes event.
Monday at work I started another store blog, and got called into action, got to work on the images on Tuesday, sat down on Wednesday and imported the images and wrote some before the inevitable needed-ness clawed into the sanctum and drug me back to retail endeavors, and then tried in vain on Friday to polish it from its rough hewn exterior into a jewel. Still it sits like a lump as I didn't even get three uninterrupted minutes to concentrate on it's inner beauty.
So here I am trying to get a routine reestablished and blogging at home. I hope my once loyal cadre of viewers hasn't dwindled to just one or two hopefuls. Word will get out if I get the words out I thing and soon I will have an army of tens even dozens beating the virtual door down to see if I have more to do with my brain than puns.
King Crawdaddy in Stuart Florida
Picture if the Day. Well not so much unless I follow through, Todays picture.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Beer Club Roadtrip
05/05/09 05:49 AM | Permalink
The IBCFM team at home in the Upland Brewery.
This last weekend the IBCFM boys went to the Upland Brewing Company in Bloomington after meeting at a prearranged staging area. I was pleased to drive the Vert down to the staging area with nothing but air and sky caressing my prepared pate.
At the Brewery, our seventet tried and mutually agreed that Upland's seasonal brew, the Maibock was pretty tasty. Rich also sampled and was pleased with the Ard Ri seasonal offering. We passed on their cuisine, because we had dinner plans back at the staging area, but did take a tour of the brewery itself under the guidance of their guide Kevin.
We started in the grain room, saw the various individual steps of the process of making grain into something more special, and learned about their "green" water treatments for both heating and cooling the beer batches throughout their genesis. 70% of the energy comes from solar water heating panels on the roof of the facility. That is an impressive number so we were all duly and appropriately impressed. After the tour, the caravan returned to the staging area at an undisclosed super secret location. Meals were prepared, canines cavorted, games and conversations were addressed, and a general feeling of well being overcame the entire group. At 8PM I again saddled the white horse and drove the steed back to the World Headquarters, the air licking my had was redirected by a new Upland Brewery ball cap. Outside chilled air was no match for heat exchanged and radiated air from the V-6 heart of my steed.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Was is all a grand fantasy, did it really happen?
Or was this some crazy pipe dream?
Of Mice and Men
05/02/09 08:01 AM | Permalink
As Robert Burns 224 year old poem "To A Mouse on Turning Her Up in Her Nest, With a A Plough" suggests, the best laid schemes of Mice and Men often go awry. While my disappointment and tragedy are not as terrible as those of John Steinbeck's Lennie Small and George Milton's, I am none the less a bit disconsolate about the dashing of our vacation plans on the rocks of industry.
Jenni and I were to be driving down to Florida in the convertible next week to visit with my parents and spend the greater part of Mother's Day with my beloved mother, and then add three or four days of vacation visitation with our daughter Meredith further down on the Atlantic side. The dates were requested and approved at both places of employment, the plans began to take form in our minds. In Florida, time was requested by the daughter at her end. Weeks go by and a problem comes knocking on vacation's door. Anthem is making changes and Jenni is involved. There will be a ten day training session and it falls inconveniently enough on the week I can not change, and Jenni cannot leave. The only thing I can do is go it alone.
I plan on coming home from work next Saturday and going to be, if I can sleep until 12 or so I will get as much or more sleep than I normally do. This would put me south of Nashville at sunrise, and at my parent's house around 2:00PM on Mother's Day. I plan on spending the most of next day in Old Town on the Suwanee River as well, and then the 5 hour drive to Port St. Lucie for three days and nights and part of a fourth then back to Old Town for a night and the 13 hour drive back home. I will be alone with my iPod, my camera gear, my GPS with Arnold S. giving directions, and my thoughts. Yep my dangerous mind will be unfettered, I'm going to buy a mini-digital recorder to comment into as I travel the lonely roads of Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama and Florida. Maybe I'll come back through Georgia, but it is a long, boring drive through that tall state.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Jenni and I were to be driving down to Florida in the convertible next week to visit with my parents and spend the greater part of Mother's Day with my beloved mother, and then add three or four days of vacation visitation with our daughter Meredith further down on the Atlantic side. The dates were requested and approved at both places of employment, the plans began to take form in our minds. In Florida, time was requested by the daughter at her end. Weeks go by and a problem comes knocking on vacation's door. Anthem is making changes and Jenni is involved. There will be a ten day training session and it falls inconveniently enough on the week I can not change, and Jenni cannot leave. The only thing I can do is go it alone.
I plan on coming home from work next Saturday and going to be, if I can sleep until 12 or so I will get as much or more sleep than I normally do. This would put me south of Nashville at sunrise, and at my parent's house around 2:00PM on Mother's Day. I plan on spending the most of next day in Old Town on the Suwanee River as well, and then the 5 hour drive to Port St. Lucie for three days and nights and part of a fourth then back to Old Town for a night and the 13 hour drive back home. I will be alone with my iPod, my camera gear, my GPS with Arnold S. giving directions, and my thoughts. Yep my dangerous mind will be unfettered, I'm going to buy a mini-digital recorder to comment into as I travel the lonely roads of Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama and Florida. Maybe I'll come back through Georgia, but it is a long, boring drive through that tall state.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Old Guy Thanks
04/15/09 07:31 AM | Permalink
Thanks to all who sent me greetings on my birthday, e-mails, text messages, phone calls and the ton of Facebook comments. I hope I can return each and every one of your wishes on your next birth anniversary. Thanks specially to Melissa Shoffner, Travis DiNicola, David Andrichik and DeAnne Roth for the nice preamble to dinner and the other Deanne, the waitress at Lone*Star for amazing Chocolate Stampede Dessert after dinner surprise.
I was overwhelmed (as was my Herron buddy Gabe all the way down in Puerto Rico), I felt it and I thank you all.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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I was overwhelmed (as was my Herron buddy Gabe all the way down in Puerto Rico), I felt it and I thank you all.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Two very different Saturdays
04/12/09 08:54 AM | Permalink
I've been photographing this corner since 1980. It has changed alot.
While I was enjoying a nice day of photo-safari weather Jenni was driving to Tennessee to see the new nephew. My day went much better, even though I had to head down town to get the battery charger for my new camera. When my new camera arrived at the store on Thursday I immediately started charging the battery in the office where I also do sensor cleanings for customers. So naturally I forgot to bring it home that night, or the next night. So on Saturday, since I was downtown anyway picking up my charger I headed over to Mass Avenue to update a recurring photo I've been taking since 1980. Plus I got off a few more good ones with the new gear.
What part of no do you not understand, fluffy!
I mentioned that Jenni's adventures were more grueling than my own. I puttered and sputtered around the house after she left before heading out for the charger. So I was in line at the Hardee's for Sausage & Egg Biscuits (2 for $2.22) when she called. Our old 87 Dodge Ram pickup has had carburetor issues since we got it, we've even had a rebuilt carb put on recently, and tuned and tuned again. So I get a call while in line at Hardee's the truck won't start, and the butterfly valve is stuck open. She's at the last Indiana rest stop about 30 miles north of Louisville. She thinks maybe it will fix itself if she lets it sit awhile. We agree to wait. Now I'm almost to Roberts when I get blinged with a new text message, so I pull over at Conseco by 'my' Starbucks. She's still there. I call and offer to drive to the rest stop (90 minutes to 2 hours each way) and trade vehicles. She says she would call AAA first, or see if anybody at the rest stop can help. Eventually a traveler from Samaria came upon our wary traveler and suggested the float may be stuck, and striking thus awoke he the butterfly release spring, and lo the vehicle started.
A little later she called again in a near panic (this time as I was taking my final photos on Mass avenue). "Something else has happened, it smells like there's wires burning!" This next part of the Saga happened in Middle Kentucky between Elizabethtown and Munfordville where had Jenni struck some road bumps or potholes hard enough to make the shocks bottom out in the towers and shake loose a fuse or wiring and fried the CD/Radio in the dash. I suggested continuing driving but cracking the windows, the smell subsided and she continued with only the hum of the motor and her worries to keep her company.
Later, still in Kentucky some 30 to 40 miles from the Tennessee border the new again Aunt again fell victim to the truck carburetor problem, this time the Samaritan appeared in the guise of a truck driver and assisted our struggling wayfarer. Jenni tole me that she was back on the road, still with plenty of gas and only 70 miles from here destination beside a crib gushing over the newest and smallest Mr. Evans.
One of the flowering trees at St.Marks on New Jersey St.@ Vermont St.
Meanwhile in Indianapolis, my photo-safari done I headed home to play with photos and as it turned out take a 90 minute nap, which was only once interrupted by a call saying that she made it to Pleasant View and was even then slurping a Cherry Limeade from Sonic and only 7 miles from the meeting with micro-Mason Evans.
HAPPY EASTER! See you soon.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Next Post! Garden Of Heathen Roller Derby and much more!!!
Giddy as a Little School Girl!
04/10/09 07:49 AM | Permalink
Spring, attempting to come out of hiding in Indiana.
Several months ago, when we still had an Olympus rep who visited Roberts there was these contests, see. Well my labors bore fruits yesterday. I received my reward for selling over a dozen Olympus DSLR's in a two month period. There for awhile I was worried, since our rep disappeared like magic, and the company who owed me my reward was restructuring. Well worry you not my little me, you shall have your cake and take pictures with it too!
It is arrived (pronounced arrive-ED) and I spent a mini-fortune adding to the prize. The camera and lens, an Olympus E-520 DSLR were the prize, I bought a used lens from our used department, and a new Macro for my garden hounding exercises, and filters and memory, and that was almost as much a s the camera would have cost. Then the heinous part of the story. I had to wait to get off work to play with it! I finally got to shoot some snaps! I met Jenni and "boss" at the Old Pointe, then ventured to Luna and the Box.
Mr. West speechifying or tryin'!
Crystal and her companion on Mass Ave.
A deserved break.
Wish me and the Roller Girls luck, and dry, warm camera weather.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Our Hours Change
03/09/09 06:42 AM | Permalink
Times are getting tougher, our change is arriving just as hour change arrives. Yesterday started an hour earlier by the biological clock that governs my system. Today my work week starts 15 minutes later due to the financial system that governs my freedom. In an effort to avoid payroll problems, the store is having its employees come in 15 minutes later each day. Other cutbacks will be made too to eliminate over-time. This is on the personal level. Without overtime, which has been about 20% of my take-home for two decades, it is all going to be personal.
On a larger scale.
Many personal habits will be affected, lifestyles will change. More lunches from home means less revenues for restaurants in the downtown area. Higher cost of survival will mean less disposable income. The taken for granted niceties, will be replaced by the necessities. Jobs will be lost, taxpayer bases will dwindle, the 40 something percent of wage earners that actually contribute into the system will dwindle and true tax revenues will fall.
When you first go on a diet the body will actually start storing more reserves in fat. As the calorie intake goes down, the internal government that is biological thinks the body is starving, that the system is going to starve and thus tries to fill it's reserve banks. Eventually the system feeds off itself as the change in intake has to be regulated by the stored reserves and the body gets leaner. This is only desirable when it is a choice and an option. Sickness can show much more rapid changes in body mass, an inability to sustain the intake body, and a lack of usable reserves and the body will feed off itself, eventually shutting down systems in order to keep the brain and heart alive. Then there is collapse, coma, catatonia and eventual death.
You can't borrow food from the future to eat it now, you can't borrow money from the future to pay for programs that are already failing now. You can't create jobs without having capital and you can't get capital by devaluing the dollar printing more money or borrowing from the uncertain future.
Now go out and have a great day. I dare you.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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On a larger scale.
Many personal habits will be affected, lifestyles will change. More lunches from home means less revenues for restaurants in the downtown area. Higher cost of survival will mean less disposable income. The taken for granted niceties, will be replaced by the necessities. Jobs will be lost, taxpayer bases will dwindle, the 40 something percent of wage earners that actually contribute into the system will dwindle and true tax revenues will fall.
When you first go on a diet the body will actually start storing more reserves in fat. As the calorie intake goes down, the internal government that is biological thinks the body is starving, that the system is going to starve and thus tries to fill it's reserve banks. Eventually the system feeds off itself as the change in intake has to be regulated by the stored reserves and the body gets leaner. This is only desirable when it is a choice and an option. Sickness can show much more rapid changes in body mass, an inability to sustain the intake body, and a lack of usable reserves and the body will feed off itself, eventually shutting down systems in order to keep the brain and heart alive. Then there is collapse, coma, catatonia and eventual death.
You can't borrow food from the future to eat it now, you can't borrow money from the future to pay for programs that are already failing now. You can't create jobs without having capital and you can't get capital by devaluing the dollar printing more money or borrowing from the uncertain future.
Now go out and have a great day. I dare you.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Der Sturm
02/11/09 11:50 PM | Permalink
The night sky was dark, angry clouds raced over barren leafless trees. An obscured moon lent just enough reflection to make clashing, overlapping clouds look like grey puzzle pieces floating on swiftly moving black water. The wind howled and pushed against the house. Inside curtains moved as if from a gentle breeze even though the windows were closed and locked. Ceiling rafters tapped morse code cadences and inside doors and walls creaked like the decks of old sailing ships.
I lay in bed not about to fall asleep, covers thrown off, wearing Corona lounge pants and no shirt. I lay listening to the night. The night had a lot to say. A half minute long barrage on the windows less than two feet from my supine form made me think that the storm glass and window pane just might be shattering soon and slicing those lounge pants and flesh to ribbons.
After the sound, like an out of balance clothes dryer drum abated I sat up on the edge of bed facing the curtains. Watching the curtains undulating like seaweed in low tide.
“You know, I’m not really sleepy yet,” I confided to myself. A quick look at an iPhone app told me what I already knew, Windy. The details revealed steady 27 mph winds gusting up to 50, with bursts up to 65 mph. I though it unfair that wind could go faster than the cars heading west on the on the Interstate tonight. I got up, using just the iPhone screen to negotiate to the bedroom door, leaving Jenni to sleep since she has to work Thursday and I have it off.
I walked the darkened house still listening to the wind and the night. Earlier I had brought in a few pieces of a garden table that had been grabbed by a gust and dashed into the side of the house, I remembered where it was in the darkened theatre of my creaking house and avoided sharp edges. Amazed that the power had not even flickered I decided to head to the chuckpace.com World Headquarters and begin a post. For about a minute I sat in front of the LCD laptop screen and thought “what should I write about?” Electrical concerns put visions of “Reddy Kilowatt” in my head and that led to “Speedy Alka-Seltzer” that and earlier I had to take an antacid due the pizza I had brought home after work. When I sat down to put this
together I launched my iTunes, (of course) and started playing Tchaikovsky's "The Tempest, Op. 18", Chicago Symphony Orchestra (1985), Conducted by Claudio Abbado , one of the greatist building-storm songs ever written. Its been 2 hours since I got out of that bed and wandered and wondered, and started this post. The memory lane trip with company logo-mascots got a bit out of hand when I remembered "Mr. Zip," the post office's effort to get us all to use the new postal zip codes to get our mail to its destination quicker.
The wind is still whipping and ripping around outside and I'm going to finish this
and go lay on the couch, far from any windows. The rafter creaking is worse out here in the World HQ and the front room. I would swear that there was an upstairs on this house and that some very large people were up there dancing in their stocking feet if the front room didn't have a cathedral ceiling. Looks like its headphones on and the iPod/iPhone playing loud upbeat music.
Remember,
MAIL moves the country,
ZIP CODE moves the mail!
Chuck Pace ©2009
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I lay in bed not about to fall asleep, covers thrown off, wearing Corona lounge pants and no shirt. I lay listening to the night. The night had a lot to say. A half minute long barrage on the windows less than two feet from my supine form made me think that the storm glass and window pane just might be shattering soon and slicing those lounge pants and flesh to ribbons.
“You know, I’m not really sleepy yet,” I confided to myself. A quick look at an iPhone app told me what I already knew, Windy. The details revealed steady 27 mph winds gusting up to 50, with bursts up to 65 mph. I though it unfair that wind could go faster than the cars heading west on the on the Interstate tonight. I got up, using just the iPhone screen to negotiate to the bedroom door, leaving Jenni to sleep since she has to work Thursday and I have it off.
The wind is still whipping and ripping around outside and I'm going to finish this
MAIL moves the country,
ZIP CODE moves the mail!
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Quick Turnaround
02/08/09 10:27 PM | Permalink
Nature, It is amazing. One day you are getting 6 or 7 inches of snow,the then next it's too cold to snow then days after that it's 50 degrees and the melting begins. About a week ago I was worried by the screech the convertible starter was making in the sub zero morning as I was trying to pre-warm the car for a morning drive to work. Sunday afternoon I put the top down on that same convertible and drove to the bowling alley with a hoodie on but unzipped. That is Indiana weather. That's the weather I have grown up with and expect to be unpredictable. The rest of the week is supposed to be warm and Tuesday we are expected to see the mercury rise north of 62 degrees. temperature reading.
This photo was taken on January 28th after the next big snow. The neighborhood association conveniently pushed the street snow up into our driveway.
This was 11 days later the big thaw . February 8th. Since then it's been warm, windy and getting wetter. The good news is that the weekend is back to snow capable weather.
Due to circumstances beyond my control this post was not postable for three days, therefore its a little less timely.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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This photo was taken on January 28th after the next big snow. The neighborhood association conveniently pushed the street snow up into our driveway.
This was 11 days later the big thaw . February 8th. Since then it's been warm, windy and getting wetter. The good news is that the weekend is back to snow capable weather.
Due to circumstances beyond my control this post was not postable for three days, therefore its a little less timely.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Sad Affair
02/06/09 07:07 AM | Permalink
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Week Rewind in Fast Forward.
01/20/09 11:48 PM | Permalink
The improved World HQ Theatre version 2.0 in 7.1 Surround,
ready to play MP3 music.
It is amazing what a busy week can do to a person. Like posting for example. It only takes a couple days off schedule to make the whole thing derail. Busy is the key word again and busy I was. I had Thursday the 15th off, that is also the day that I got my 'big check'.
The big check meant time to upgrade the World HQ theatre area. The week before I had made a trip to BigBoxBuys and noted possible items for the theatre in the trusty Notes area of the iPhone, so the decision making process took less than 2 hours on Thursday. Then the paying and the bringing home.
Before and After: 7 components become 3
(the center channel speaker was behind the set before.)
I started the process after making myself lunch (great restraint) at about 12:20. The old setup and components had to be dismantled, then the area vacuumed, and cleaned, then and only then could I add the wall mounting hardwares and the shelves. Next it was time to wire the speakers, add the components and the new surge protection equipment. Exhaustion was setting in, and a capital M headache was burgeoning. It was around 8:45 when everything was in place, about 10:00 when the wiring was done and by 10:45 I ready for testing the new blu-ray player. I decided to just pop in a regular DVD, no sound. Too beat to wait to hear a beat or BGM I drowned a mini-handful of rapid release gels and hit the sack. Friday I was in the throes of full-bore Migraine and didn't even get up to eat or try to kill myself to end it until around 4:20. It wouldn't be until Saturday after work that I added the final touches, the iPod dock and sound field set-up, only then did we watch our first blu-ray disc. The Coen brothers "Burn After Reading." The new viewing angle and the better receiver have enhanced and enriched our lives.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Arctic Assualt Pt. 1
01/12/09 07:33 AM | Permalink
No gags or jokes this time. A severe cold front is hitting Indiana in the next few days, with the worst of it expected on Thursday my day off (oh joy). This is why we donate to the Red Cross, the United Way ant The SAlvation Army. The street survivors and homeless are going to be particularly hard hit. Here it the extended forecast and the Warning from the MWS. Stay warm, wear layers and avoid long exposure to the elements. Chuck Out!
THE COLDEST AIR OF THE WINTER IS EXPECTED TO IMPACT THE AREA THIS COMING WEEK. ARCTIC AIR FROM NORTHERN CANADA WILL RUSH SOUTHWARDS IN TWO SEPARATE WAVES. THE FIRST ARRIVAL OF COLD AIR WILL BE DURING THE DAY ON TUESDAY AND INTO TUESDAY NIGHT WHEN TEMPERATURES WILL DROP TO NEAR ZERO OR SLIGHTLY BELOW ALONG WITH DANGEROUSLY COLD WIND CHILLS OF LESS THAN TEN DEGREES BELOW ZERO. THE SECOND...
AND COLDER AIRMASS WILL ARRIVE ON THURSDAY WHEN HIGHS ARE EXPECTED ONLY IN THE SINGLE DIGITS ABOVE ZERO WITH LOWS AS COLD AS TEN BELOW ZERO ACROSS NORTH CENTRAL INDIANA. WIND CHILL VALUES WILL BE DANGEROUSLY COLD ON THURSDAY AS WELL... FALLING TO LESS THAN TEN DEGREES BELOW ZERO AGAIN. RESIDENTS SHOULD CONTINUE TO MONITOR THE LATEST FORECASTS FOR ANY POSSIBLE ADVISORIES OR FURTHER INFORMATION REGARDING THIS VERY COLD WEATHER.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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THE COLDEST AIR OF THE WINTER IS EXPECTED TO IMPACT THE AREA THIS COMING WEEK. ARCTIC AIR FROM NORTHERN CANADA WILL RUSH SOUTHWARDS IN TWO SEPARATE WAVES. THE FIRST ARRIVAL OF COLD AIR WILL BE DURING THE DAY ON TUESDAY AND INTO TUESDAY NIGHT WHEN TEMPERATURES WILL DROP TO NEAR ZERO OR SLIGHTLY BELOW ALONG WITH DANGEROUSLY COLD WIND CHILLS OF LESS THAN TEN DEGREES BELOW ZERO. THE SECOND...
AND COLDER AIRMASS WILL ARRIVE ON THURSDAY WHEN HIGHS ARE EXPECTED ONLY IN THE SINGLE DIGITS ABOVE ZERO WITH LOWS AS COLD AS TEN BELOW ZERO ACROSS NORTH CENTRAL INDIANA. WIND CHILL VALUES WILL BE DANGEROUSLY COLD ON THURSDAY AS WELL... FALLING TO LESS THAN TEN DEGREES BELOW ZERO AGAIN. RESIDENTS SHOULD CONTINUE TO MONITOR THE LATEST FORECASTS FOR ANY POSSIBLE ADVISORIES OR FURTHER INFORMATION REGARDING THIS VERY COLD WEATHER.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Not Like a Lion at All
01/01/09 12:01 AM | Permalink
Quietly, sheepishly not making a fussy fuss. That is how the New Year seems to be coming in. At least here at the world headquarters it is. I am listening to Thomas Dolby's Astronauts and Heretics (a lesser know collection of original tunes from 1992 on Giant Records) and waiting to usher in the new year. I have my ushers hat and a flashlight and I'm going to get the baby new year a seat right up front where it can see the
Now you may ask what that has to do with the new year? Nothing and everything. Nothing to you, everything to me, because this is how I choose to see the backside of 2008 fade into the dark and be gone by morning. Jenni chooses to see the new year in through her eyelids, she retired before 2008 did, she'll have to take my word for it this time.
I don't like to go out on amateur night,when there are a lot of scary drinkers taking too many risks and endangering too many innocent folks. Nope I usually am safe and sound in my pj's on New Years or St. Patrick's Days and any other 'excuse to drink' night. In a few minutes I'll be climbing into the bed too, I just have to see this post starting to get up on the web, then brush my teeth and, well get ready for the new year. I hope you are all safe my friends and the lion I have avoided did not bite you.
Chuck Pace ©2009
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Sneaking Up on '09
12/30/08 07:09 AM | Permalink
Photos: (Side banner) Panoramic of the cemetery on Tennessee 25:
(Above) Historic marker that caused us to find the cemetery.
(Immediately above) Nephews Logan and Hank unwrapping and playing;
Logan with a robot walker.
-4:Next stop: WildCard in SanDiego
Chuck Pace ©2008
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Days of Missing, Eve and X-mas
12/29/08 11:55 PM | Permalink
The Last days before Christmas were a blur to me. Chuck Pace © 2008
This shot was taken on Christmas Eve at the Chatterbox.
Christmas Eve was a nice night and a not so nice night. The day started with a holiday breakfast at the Red Eye for whoever wanted to attend from the two stores. I was a little out of sorts not feeling myself, what have you. But the food was good and half of the Carmel staff showed up and about half of the Indy store was there too. This is the last week for Mike Novak too. He is taking a job at the American Legion here in Indy as a liaison and will begin liaising January 5th. Mike was at the store for just a few month south of 15 years.
Later in the day I was down with a very bad headache and Phil sent me packing at about 12:20, all I know for sure is that I laid down on the couch after taking migraine meds at 1:05 and other than taking off shoes and loosening my belt did not stir again until 6:15 when Jenni came home and woke me. Around 7:15 we headed back downtown for the unofficial sing-a-long featuring the dexterous digits of the dashing and debonaire Jane Pozek. The house was packed to the gills (I didn't even know it had gills until they where distending and flaring from the sardine solution to packing singers in a saloon). After the music started and the singing fluctuated from energetic to entropic and back a few times, and the smoke and the undulating crowds crowded and undulated just too many times I decided that escape was the better solution. Brock and Jess were in from Columbus with Travis and Liz, but were not afforded a place to be miserable with the rest of us and left before the festivities began with a beat and tempo. Six songs in and before the 12 days of Christmas, Jenni and I got behind lead blocker Deanne and made our way to the door and sanctuary. "Sanctuary!"
I took my headache to bed only to be unable to sleep. So I got up and placed wrapping papers around some items that were to be my wife's Christmas from me, meager as it was to be. Around 5:00 AM Christmas morn I stumbled into the bed chamber again and did find some solace from my somnolence (the longing for sleep) until a little after 10:00 when I work to the smell of coffee in the air-ducts and was revitalized enough to make my way out and be fronted with gifts and wife in festive giving patterns. It was a good day, and the head forgave me for the previous nights foray into the fray of frolickers.
There is the cap recapped in a nutshell not roasted by a recklessly unshielded heated hearth. More as I recover.
Chuck Pace ©2008
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Shake Rattle and Roll
12/20/08 10:22 PM | Permalink
It wasn't just Carole King who felt the earth move under her feet!
In 1954 Jesse Stone writing as Charles Calhoun penned the early rock classic "Shake Rattle and Roll" which was first recorded by Big Joe Turner. The best known and most successful recording came in the same year by Bill Haley and the Comets who "rocked" up the arrangement and changed some of the lyrics. Then in 1955 Elvis Presley recorded it for the first time for Sun records using Haley's arrangement and the original Joe Turner lyrics. Elvis recorded it again in 1956 this time for the big time RCA Victor label. This is the version that I have and like the most even though it received only luke warm attention and was never a hit.
Old Dome in rubble, East facade looking South.
The sky was still there after all, just waiting.
Yesterday at about 9:36 AM while at the Roberts downtown store that Elvis version came to me as I stood at the door and listened to the implosion of the Hoosier/RCA Dome two blocks west of me. The first concussive sounds started then and took on a few different notes as different charges were fired sequentially to drop the historic structure. The windows were rattling and the ground did indeed shake and the whole affair lasted about 24 seconds then peace and quiet (except for the sounds of crowds cheering further north on Meridian).
Please have any purses or packages open and step to the next available security checkpoint.
It would be almost three hours later before I got to see any of the carnage, I was on my way to the Circle Centre Mall for some power shopping, and I didn't have a camera except for the iPhone. After work I got a closer look and some shots before going to the Colts Pro shop in the new Lucas Oil Stadium. The most melancholy shot has to be of those steps. How many times since 1984 did I stand on or take those steps? Jenni's comment when looking at these photos?
"I saw Pink Floyd there, and Bruce Springsteen." Well Jenni, Shiel Sexton is the group that finally Rocked the House! Or reduced it to Rock and Roll-ing Thunder in the Dome!!!!
The last verse and chorus from the post title song!
I went over the hill, way down underneath
I went over the hill, way down underneath
You make me roll my eyes
And then you make me grit my teeth
Well I said shake, rattle and roll
I said shake rattle and roll
I said shake, rattle and roll
I said shake rattle and roll
Well you won't do right
To save your doggone so
Go Colts
-4: Next Week it's PEYBACK!
Chuck Pace ©2008
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A Lovely Digital Holiday
12/20/08 07:21 AM | Permalink
Chuck Pace ©2008
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And The Band Played On
12/18/08 12:41 AM | Permalink
Just like that fateful April day in 1912; the Band played on. This time none of the survivors had to be dragged out of the icy waters and onto the decks of the Carpathia and into a makeshift infirmary. No this time the freeze-line was beyond the windows and walls of the Chatterbox far south of the 41st parallel. o, this time the icy waters were in the form of snow flakes and frozen rain add mostly on the secondary streets of fair Indy. The band tonight was the Jazz-tet that until March of this year was fronted, sided, no: more like inspired and guided by the late Dick Dickinson. I think the music was up to Dick's standard with Michael Moynahan on saxophone, Dave Scalia on skins (drums) and four year veteran and successor Jesse (the front-man in the back) Whitman on upright base. The first set was tight and the mix of songs just right. Near the end we were treated to a heart warming version of Christmas Time is Here (Guaraldi-Mendelson) from "A Charlie Brown Christmas" with Mr. Moynahan on reeds.
At the break I asked Jesse the name of the group since there was no sign. I said, "Are you the Dick-less Jazz-tet? Or has it not come up? Well for that matter...?" I could tell he was at a loss for words, so I let him be.
Mr. Giles and Ms. Giles
Meanwhile down by the colder end of the Tavern (the jukebox/bathroom/backroom end) brother and sister Steve and Maura Giles were enjoying a quiet night celebrating Steve's 32nd birthday. Happy birthing remembrance (though thankfully none of us have to remember "that"!) Stephen.
These moments are the end of a nice evening at the "Box, the beginning of the evening saw me joining Mel for a Bourbon tasting. Mr. Ross Whitfield joined us before the festivities started and Mike McDaniel and Jeff Barber joined us shortly after. I did not partake of the Bourbon's myself, nor did Mr. Barber.
Maxwell and Jeffrey fresh from a Pacers WIN!
Near the end of the whole mess for me Maxwell Banks and his crony Jeffery (both friends of Chatterbowler Clayton Hamilton) came in an quietly brought glad tidings of great joy, for indeed the Pacers of Indiana had vanquished Warriors from the Golden State of California to build a two game winning steak.
With coat in hand an love in my heart I started the car, feeling that for at least a moment all was right with the world... and they heard me exclaim as I drove out of sight, I hope Jenni's o.k. , cause I don't wanna fight.
Chuck Pace ©2008
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We Were Listening
12/11/08 06:03 AM | Permalink
Where the Music Still Matters. The Chatterbox Tavern. Chuck Pace ©2008
How do you honor a legend? By remembering and sharing and mostly by carrying on. There was a lot of all of that last night at the Chatterbox Tavern on Massachusetts Avenue in Indianapolis. An over Full-House of well wishers and rememberers were in attendance for the memorial event in honor of one of the city's finest sons, Richard A. 'Dick' Dickinson whose life influenced and inspired generations of Jazz musicians and aficionados alike.
It is only fitting and purely by design that David Andrichik should hold a tribute to Dick on a Wednesday, that was the night each week for well over 20 years that Dick Dickinson and his Jazz-tet of rotating and musicians took the tiny stage at the front of the Chatterbox and turned it into a house full of memories.
Last night there were testimonials and stories and e-mails and videos and hundreds of well wishers all missing and remembering a very serious, dedicated, and well-loved man to whom the music mattered. As a long standing member of the Wednesday Night Men's Club that has seen the loss of two of it's founding members: Bill O'Keefe and Ed Sanders in the past five or six years,I can tell you that Wednesday Nights on the Avenue will never be the same.
Even thought the crowds were there for fellowship, drinks, amusement and entertainment all those years, and often got a bit boisterous they were still there for the music. We were there for the music, we were there for release, we were there for friendship, we were there for live Jazz and we were enriched. I say today to Dick Dickinson, we were listening. You will be missed, and the stage hasn't been the same since your retirement this last spring, but it will be quieter now. The shuffle of drumsticks and brushes, cymbals and hi-hats has ceased and we are left with only the rhythm of our memories and the quite respect of the passing of a great man. The quiet is deafening. Yes, we were listening.
Chuck Pace ©2008
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Behind the Milestone
12/09/08 01:50 AM | Permalink
Today it the Silver day for Jenni and I's married lives together. Twenty five years ago when I was but a sapling at a mere 23 years old and Jenni just 10 months my senior we tied together our knots in Springfield Tennessee less than a dozen miles from the Mason family homestead of most of Jenni's non-adult life. While every journey has its dead-ends, and rough roads I am pleased to say I still have my beloved co-pilot along on the trip, and we are still enjoying the journey.
As I write this it is 1:50 AM on December 9th, and I just couldn't sleep. I got up at 1:01 with the express purpose of finding our old wedding photos, but I guess she has hidden them, because I didn't find them. I don't want to wake her so I will just pop up some of the markers on the lane of memories.
The one up top I call "Hey Flock of Seagulls!" Hubba-Hubba. 1982, I think we were heading out to Crazy Al's to see X or somebody. The rest I will caption underneath.
In the Trenches, One of the earliest shots, circa 1979/1980.
Just another day in my apartment, back then Jenni's was across the hall. Funny thing is they say the longer you have been together the more you start to look alike, and this was at the beginning. Thanks to Russel Akred for pushing the shutter on my "film " camera.
Did I Dream it? In the early years. I see the ring but I don't know the year. I think this was taken at my parents house before they moved to Florida, before Meredith.
Baby Makes Three, the happy mother and the Birthday Girl. 5/27/1985, Methodists Hospital, Indianapolis.
My Girls. I'd Recognize that Smile Anywhere! Early Spring 1989.
Jenni has borrowed Charles Nelson Riley's glasses, and Daddy is playing picture guy. Meredith is not yet four and we are living in half a double in the 12 hundred block of Keystone Ave..
I had been at Roberts for less than a year.
As you might guess, I have hundreds of other photos, but I still don't know where the Wedding shots are. Now it''s nearing 2:45 and I have to try to get some sleep. As I go to listen to my wife, partner and life companion, snore. I will sleep with a smile on my face.
Chuck Pace ©2008
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The Old Sage, still has Flavor
12/08/08 07:04 AM | Permalink
There are Worlds inside our Worlds the we Chose to see or Ignore. Look at the bigger picture through the smallest details.
Last night there was the unknown. Every day there is more unknown which eventually gets to be known. That is what a day is it is a promise of change, same, challenge and routine. A day offers each of us a chance to excel, coast or fail in many things, to most a day is primarily a new opportunity to do the same patterns and actions again hopefully better or with more assurance. Just like marital arts training repetition is a key to success. The things that we have not experienced add to the collective us the things we do over are slowly turned into automatic responses to an already accepted set of patterns. May your day be filled with puzzles, challenges and new a great mysteries, may you solve conquer and unravel your fair share of those new day experiences and may you do it all with a thought for those around you. Your new challenge may be old hat to a coworker or family member or friend, they may choose to guide or they may take a observational role to see how you adapt. You may have a unique reaction or a mainstream one, but have one. Choose to face your challenges and you will grow, hide or dread them and you are accepting that you can not face change.
Do stupid things. For a carefree spirit does not find them stupid, but opens to the possibility that they are only stupid to a less aware personality. Face every challenge with a positive attitude and you will have fewer regrets about your choices and solutions.
Don't try to be happy, try to see the happiness in others, don't try to do everything alone try to do more with your friends and family.
Smile. You are beautiful when you smile. Listen. Share. Love. Above all Love.
Chuck Pace ©2008
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The Beat Goes...
12/06/08 07:22 AM | Permalink
Dick Dickinson's drum kit at home on the stage at the 'Box. Chuck Pace © 2008
If all the World is a Stage, then it's missing one of its best drummers, Dick Dickinson.
Dick succumbed to cancer on December 1st, and is being honored by his fans and friends at the Chatterbox on Mass Avenue. This Wednesday the 10th there is going to be a Memorial for local and National Jazz great Dick Dickinson. There will be live music, a military honor guard, and testimonials. The celebration of the man and his gift to the world starts at 8:00. I'll see you there.
Chuck Pace ©2008
Yesterday Morning
12/04/08 09:59 AM | Permalink
Irish Up
09/25/08 06:40 PM | Permalink
Saturday Night with Rachel Shirley at Irish Fest '08
Me with Keith Roberts , Front man for the Young Dubliners,
photo: Rachel Shirley © 2008
Saturday: We didn't arrive at the festive site until around 5:30, since we stopped at the Suite on the 14th floor and dropped of all non-essential items and affects. Then a short walk got us to the gates of the park. Soon enough we found Mike Wilson diligently working away at Beer Truck #5 (I think). See, Mike volunteers to work the Irish Fest's every year, and Rich and I volunteer to attend. Mel Shoffner arrived not long before we completed our first pass around the grounds with Jenni, who (like Mel) was not in the Friday evening fest festivities. One of our favorite venders this year was artist/painter T. W. Williams of the 317 area code. We all liked several of his pieces (I think Rebecca even liked one or two but it is so hard to tell with the hard drinkers!) and in a surprise move rich bought one of his favorites before we left for the Embassy Suites and our hired room for the evening. Jenni, who's bursa bereaved knee which she had a cortisone shot in a few day earlier, left before the final acts of the fest crew were acted out. The remainders of our crew all wandered over to the Claddagh Stage and watched The Young Dubliners live while finishing off our food/beverages tickets. Rachel Shirley one of my Roberts camera customers who Rich, Mike and I hung with on Friday night returned form a Wedding shoot in St. Louis to finish the night with our group again. Rachel and I bought Young Dubs merch and got the autographs of the entire band after the encore song.
Chuck Pace ©2008
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Dream Weaver
09/08/08 08:54 PM | Permalink
So Bob at work has been having some weird dreams because of the acid reflux medicine he has been taking. Occasionally he shares one of his bizarre nocturnal admissions with his coworkers.
This is not the case with me, I dream (I'm sure) but I usually don't remember the episodes, add to that the waking and sleeping problems I perpetually have and it is rare that I have a dream of memory or substance. Saturday morning I woke up with the creepies at 4:09 AM. I wasn't overly horrified or some such, but I did wake up. I did remember.
My Father-in-law Bill and I were in South America (I would guess Venezuela) for a wedding, (I don't know who's though). We flew into a small airport, then rode in a dusty truck to a community building. I decided to take a shower to get ready for the ceremony, I don't know where Bill went while I was washing up, but when I came out with a towel around me my suitcase was gone, with all my clothes. The room was fairly large, and there were some boxes and crates against one wall. I saw a piece of fabric through an opening in one of the crates so
I walked over and put my hand into the crate. Immediately hundreds of black shiny spiders about the size of dimes were covering my right hand. I tried to brush them off with my left and knocked several off, but they were secreting fluids onto my hand which was making my flesh liquify. As is hurriedly used my left hand to squeegee more arachnids away my fingers were fusing together with the melting skin, and spiders were getting inside my hand and were moving under the skin towards my wrist. I tightened the left hand and squeegeed some of the nasty devils back out through fingers that where like flaps of wet rubber over tendons and bones. I could hear and feel spiders being crushed under the skin and it seemed like I was barely getting ahead of the battle.
I woke up with my heart beating a little harder than usual and took a deep breath and thought about how intense that was. I held my hand up in front of my face and spread my fingers just to be sure, then I fluffed my pillow and sought to reenter sleep in a different dreamscape. After we got up to start our day off from work Saturday I told Jenni a synopsis of the dream, she being an arachnophobe was more shaken than I. I came into the World HQ and sketched the offensive creatures and took it in to show to Jenni. The drawings were later taken into photoshop and cleaned up but are basically the same as I saw them in my dream.
Now that you have seen them will you be able to ward them off in your sleep? I hope so.
This is not the case with me, I dream (I'm sure) but I usually don't remember the episodes, add to that the waking and sleeping problems I perpetually have and it is rare that I have a dream of memory or substance. Saturday morning I woke up with the creepies at 4:09 AM. I wasn't overly horrified or some such, but I did wake up. I did remember.
My Father-in-law Bill and I were in South America (I would guess Venezuela) for a wedding, (I don't know who's though). We flew into a small airport, then rode in a dusty truck to a community building. I decided to take a shower to get ready for the ceremony, I don't know where Bill went while I was washing up, but when I came out with a towel around me my suitcase was gone, with all my clothes. The room was fairly large, and there were some boxes and crates against one wall. I saw a piece of fabric through an opening in one of the crates so
Now that you have seen them will you be able to ward them off in your sleep? I hope so.
Sunday Drive on Monday
09/02/08 07:05 AM | Permalink
The Rolling Stone Bridge 1915
With the weather cooperating to its fullest and the sun bringing a cloudless 90° to terra firma we enjoyed a thirty minute drive to the next water crossing, the Big Rocky Fork Bridge (not pictured), built in 1900 by J.J. Daniels. Big Rocky Fork's condition was not as good and it was by passed by a new bridge and no longer open to anything but foot traffic.
The 173 ft long Dunbar Bridge built 1880 North of Greencastle.
Read the historical marker below at the end of today's post.
From there it was a trek to the Conleys Ford Bridge built in 1907. Heading North and East just a spit and whistle we came to the Mansfield area which looks like a place Stephen King might have envisioned. It was in full tourist trappings, and appeared to be deserted, except for a half dozen bikers who were overheard saying that in the second week of October you couldn't move because of the crowds. I believe I will avoid this "place" in October. The bridge itself is a wonder, extremely long and the second oldest (1867) on our labor day tour.
The Bridgeton Bridge, built 2006 Bridgeton Indiana.
This is our first trek west to the Covered Bridge Capital of the World. Parke County is home to some 31 or so covered bridges, and at least 6 of the 11 bridges we encountered are east and south of Parke County, so we have our our road tripping future ahead of us for some time to come. We also have to head south again and check out the Moscow Bridge in Shelby County Bridge which was taken away by tornadoes on June 2nd of this year but is being rebuilt even as I write.
Chuck Pace ©2008
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The Air Game and the Ground Game
08/25/08 06:45 AM | Permalink
F-22A Raptor
Too bad the other Lucas Oil happening was not as lucky. The Colts were in the New Stadium facing a real opponent last night. Lucky for all concerned that it was a pre-season game, one that does not effect the season or the run for another record breaking AFC South Championship and Post season appearance. Peyton, who is still recovering from off season knee surgery was in the house in civilian apparel, so was his back-up Jim Sorgi. Back-up back-ups Quinn Gray and Jared Lorenzen had themselves a dismal night. Between the two back-ups there were 4 interceptions, 210 yards passing and only 1 touchdown. My inability to be in more than one place at any given moment placed me in front of a TV for the Colts non-dome home debacle.
Quantum Physics (and a previous channel remote button) did allow me to watch events from Beijing and Lucas Oil Stadium at more or less the same time though, so who's complaining?
I eagerly await the regular season opener against the Bears of Chicago Illinois, and gladly accept the close of the Olympics. I'm sure I will still be missing sleep for other (as yet unknown) reasons once again, now that I don't have to stay up watching the medal counts (USA110, China 101).
Chuck Pace ©2008
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Fieldtrip and Cake
08/18/08 06:43 AM | Permalink
South End of the Colts New Home. Chuck Pace © 2008
Having recently been to Lambeau field in Green Bay Jenni and I could not help but make comparisons. The two structures are very similar under he seats and in the concourse areas. Of course Green Bay's Lambeau is topless, because the fans there know how to dress themselves. Here in Weenieapolis we will probably have three games where the sky is the unlimited. Still and all the place is awe inspiring.
After the tour (where Jenni blew out her left knee and there wasn't a trainer in the house to help) we hobbled back to the car and made our way to the Chatterbox to join Rich, JD and Mel already in progress.
Saturday was Mel's birthing reunion, but none of the people from the original big event were there except Mel. As surrogate medical staff the afore mentioned Rich & JD wee joined by Jenni and I, miss Kay and Maddie and Guy Tucker to help Missy usher in another cycle of the sun as it relates to her first presence beneath it extra-uteri.
Sadly we had to truncate our visit as Jenni football field days ended and she was swelling from pride in all her fingerless extremities.
Chuck Pace ©2008
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I'm Beginning to Wonder
08/12/08 09:52 PM | Permalink
I asked you all to wish me luck, I know that 'you all' isn't as many as it used to be, that's my fault I know. I haven't been posting nearly as much as I should be. I've let you down, so maybe this is payback, maybe I had it coming.
Well the bowling experience is over for a bistle (I don't know how many bistles it takes to make a bit, but it is a lot), but the bowling experience may never be over. Tom; so impressed with Rich and I's mediocrity has asked us to join the fun (and failure) in his fall league (as alternates). Then there is the next Chatterbowling experience. David Andrichick, kegler aficionado and all around sport of sports has talked to the Smiths (not the ultra depressed British fab-rockers) the All-Star Bowl managers about making beer and pizza league. The seemed receptive to a whole new revenue stream, surprise. For our final performance on the uneven parallel lanes we all stumbled a bit. For the second straight week I had a higher series than our anchor Tom. We managed to take the last game but dropped two spots from 15th back to 17th where we have been spending a lot of our time. Next Monday we go for our paltry pay-out. Wish me lunch money? No I dare not ask again until I have reestablished your trust and confidence.
It was another long and mostly sleep deprived night thanks to the Olympics. Sadly our Women's Gymnastic team had some falters in their last two rotations but still the solidly captured the Silver medal. Michael Phelps is now the greatest Olympian with two more Golds (and 5 so far these games).
Well it is another day and another day requires me to make the best of it. I must finish getting ready for work.
Now the sad news. Just a few minutes before my alarm went off this morning, a sad missive made it 's way into my text message roll. It said "Brighid is gone" and it was from Melissa (Mel) about her beloved Boxer and companion. It is always awful to lose a loved one and and my heart goes out to those who survive her, Mel and Benton. I searched in vain this morning to find any of the photos I have of Brighid to post here but short notice and long day ahead have thwarted my efforts.
The photo is of Benton, all of us here at the World HQ wish him well.
Chuck Pace ©2008
Well the bowling experience is over for a bistle (I don't know how many bistles it takes to make a bit, but it is a lot), but the bowling experience may never be over. Tom; so impressed with Rich and I's mediocrity has asked us to join the fun (and failure) in his fall league (as alternates). Then there is the next Chatterbowling experience. David Andrichick, kegler aficionado and all around sport of sports has talked to the Smiths (not the ultra depressed British fab-rockers) the All-Star Bowl managers about making beer and pizza league. The seemed receptive to a whole new revenue stream, surprise. For our final performance on the uneven parallel lanes we all stumbled a bit. For the second straight week I had a higher series than our anchor Tom. We managed to take the last game but dropped two spots from 15th back to 17th where we have been spending a lot of our time. Next Monday we go for our paltry pay-out. Wish me lunch money? No I dare not ask again until I have reestablished your trust and confidence.
It was another long and mostly sleep deprived night thanks to the Olympics. Sadly our Women's Gymnastic team had some falters in their last two rotations but still the solidly captured the Silver medal. Michael Phelps is now the greatest Olympian with two more Golds (and 5 so far these games).
Well it is another day and another day requires me to make the best of it. I must finish getting ready for work.
The photo is of Benton, all of us here at the World HQ wish him well.
Chuck Pace ©2008
Been a Long Lonely, Lonely, Lonely Time
08/08/08 06:49 AM | Permalink
What can I say? I got complacent. I settled then I settled in. So much has happened since I last sent thought into the troposphere and beyond. Too much to adequately do any one thing justice here in afterthought land I am sad to say.
There was the worst race in Brickyard history and a tire company that can't make tires nearly as wall as they make excuses.
There were a couple evenings at the bowling lanes that failed to have their stories told and are feeling pretty low because of my rejection.
There was the lovely evening at Jake and Vanessa's to send our pal Nick off to Tempe to become even more than those that remain behind to honor and remember.
There is Tweek the pus drooling cat and his subsequent oral surgery, which came with the bonus "20 flying exacto blade claws" and the oral antibiotics.
Also, Pool version 2.0. New book tech editing well under way, and a new book by Bill Fitzhugh from Kay, personally signed by the author hisownself.
Since my inconsiderate absence there was also two seasons of Angel optically absorbed. The Dark Knight, and the long days at work.
The invasion from the Thromians from the Gamalon sector of the 8th dimension, the carnage, and the memory purge of the unworthy. I don't think that should go unmentioned.
So much time, so little mind. I can only make a weak commitment to do better, to get the words out of my head and to relieve the oppressive pressure!
Chuck Pace ©2008
There was the worst race in Brickyard history and a tire company that can't make tires nearly as wall as they make excuses.
There were a couple evenings at the bowling lanes that failed to have their stories told and are feeling pretty low because of my rejection.
There was the lovely evening at Jake and Vanessa's to send our pal Nick off to Tempe to become even more than those that remain behind to honor and remember.
There is Tweek the pus drooling cat and his subsequent oral surgery, which came with the bonus "20 flying exacto blade claws" and the oral antibiotics.
Also, Pool version 2.0. New book tech editing well under way, and a new book by Bill Fitzhugh from Kay, personally signed by the author hisownself.
Since my inconsiderate absence there was also two seasons of Angel optically absorbed. The Dark Knight, and the long days at work.
The invasion from the Thromians from the Gamalon sector of the 8th dimension, the carnage, and the memory purge of the unworthy. I don't think that should go unmentioned.
So much time, so little mind. I can only make a weak commitment to do better, to get the words out of my head and to relieve the oppressive pressure!
Chuck Pace ©2008
The Old In and Out
06/29/08 12:30 PM | Permalink
The signal splitters in the attic are as old as the cable and the house, approximately 17 years old to be exact. He replaced them and hopefully solved our Digital Cable problems. Ultimately I would like to replace the cables themselves with the newer higher capacity/lower resistance RG 6 cable that is used in construction these days. Through the access panel and into another world. Note the hand painted BMW Roundel that I put on the wall of my garage this spring, isn't it lovely?
Storm created Technical Difficulties, Chuck Pace © 2008
As if on cue, while Scott was here there came a freakish pop-up rain storm and what he thought was job over done-with and gone became lock-up and image scramble. The above image is what prompted him to replace more splitters and (hopefully) run down my viewing problems. Now I have to finish and upload this to the www and get back to the TV where we were watching the Spiderwick Chronicles on DVD since we didn't know how the cable visit might turn out.
Chuck Out!
Chuck Pace ©2008
A Sad and Sorry Testimonial
06/29/08 01:03 AM | Permalink
Jenni and I go to lunch together nearly every day. We work within a few blocks of each other, we ride in together most of the time and we deal with each other adequately most times. We know the things that annoy each other the most and play those cards when necessary. We know what pleases the other too, and withhold that as long as possible or until a need of some sort or another arises. Of course we would never say that or admit it to ourselves or to each other because we are actually like most couples that have seasoned together like fine food. We go together even if the ingredients don't always make sense. We play the subconscious chess game as wall as most couples.
Recently we both surprised each other. Knowing each other so well we were both just knocked for a loop.
Is age creeping up on us. Are we both slipping. Is this a case of cosmic coincidence? Worry is just around the corner. I think we are still too young for senility to start staking it's claims on our mental faculties. I think.
I get three weeks of vacation a year, that is how it works for a chap or chippy who works at Roberts for over 15 years. Now, once I finish this coming August and the first week of September I get four weeks from then on until the vague and indiscernible future. That is if I remember it.
Because there is very little sales floor employee turn over at the Roberts Rodeo the camera cowboys are all getting up in their vacation days. Being a smart wrangler like I am with a lot of experience at not getting the time off I really wanted I got me an idear this year. I moseyed into Evie's office on the third of January third and staked my claims on the calendar. There is a long standing rule in place that nobody gets to take two weeks in a row. I picked my weeks, and I confirmed them with Jenni via fax and telephone call. She in turn turned in her requests for sanity recovery times.
Tuesday last, when Jenni and I went to lunch she shared an amusing circumstance at her work-place. Lori, her "Lead" person sent an e-mail saying that because Jenni was going to be on vacation this coming week that they would taper off her work-load so that she (Jenni)could concentrate on closing all the work that was out there before the requested time out of the corporate mind. She told Rebecca, her long time friend and at work superior that she wasn't on vacation this week and that she would tell Lori not to limit her incoming appeals since the department was short handed (non-overlapping vacations were taking place there as well). I listened to her amusing recital with amusement (see, it was amusing as I have already stated). The next day Rebecca told Jenni not to tell Lori, that way her (Jenni's) work load would be a little lax for a bit, Jenni again took the high road because of the work-load /staffing deficiencies and went ahead and sent Lori the e-mail.
That same day, Wednesday. Evie handed out the upcoming month's schedule to the Roberts staff, there in black and white was my vacation this upcoming week June 30th through Tuesday July 8th. Humph, I said. Later I told Evie I had considered taking that week off with the possibility of visiting Washington DC for the 4th. She said you did schedule it off. I called Jenni and reminded her of the DC possibility plans and that she and I were indeed off this coming week.
Until that moment neither of us remembered the actual act of scheduling the time.
Now I'm a little confused and concerned.
I think Jenni might be losing her mind.
Chuck Pace ©2008
I HAVEN'T LOST MY MIND, I JUST HAVEN'T FIGURED OUT WHERE I LEFT IT, IT'S HERE SOMEWHERE.
Recently we both surprised each other. Knowing each other so well we were both just knocked for a loop.
Is age creeping up on us. Are we both slipping. Is this a case of cosmic coincidence? Worry is just around the corner. I think we are still too young for senility to start staking it's claims on our mental faculties. I think.
I get three weeks of vacation a year, that is how it works for a chap or chippy who works at Roberts for over 15 years. Now, once I finish this coming August and the first week of September I get four weeks from then on until the vague and indiscernible future. That is if I remember it.
Because there is very little sales floor employee turn over at the Roberts Rodeo the camera cowboys are all getting up in their vacation days. Being a smart wrangler like I am with a lot of experience at not getting the time off I really wanted I got me an idear this year. I moseyed into Evie's office on the third of January third and staked my claims on the calendar. There is a long standing rule in place that nobody gets to take two weeks in a row. I picked my weeks, and I confirmed them with Jenni via fax and telephone call. She in turn turned in her requests for sanity recovery times.
Tuesday last, when Jenni and I went to lunch she shared an amusing circumstance at her work-place. Lori, her "Lead" person sent an e-mail saying that because Jenni was going to be on vacation this coming week that they would taper off her work-load so that she (Jenni)could concentrate on closing all the work that was out there before the requested time out of the corporate mind. She told Rebecca, her long time friend and at work superior that she wasn't on vacation this week and that she would tell Lori not to limit her incoming appeals since the department was short handed (non-overlapping vacations were taking place there as well). I listened to her amusing recital with amusement (see, it was amusing as I have already stated). The next day Rebecca told Jenni not to tell Lori, that way her (Jenni's) work load would be a little lax for a bit, Jenni again took the high road because of the work-load /staffing deficiencies and went ahead and sent Lori the e-mail.
That same day, Wednesday. Evie handed out the upcoming month's schedule to the Roberts staff, there in black and white was my vacation this upcoming week June 30th through Tuesday July 8th. Humph, I said. Later I told Evie I had considered taking that week off with the possibility of visiting Washington DC for the 4th. She said you did schedule it off. I called Jenni and reminded her of the DC possibility plans and that she and I were indeed off this coming week.
Until that moment neither of us remembered the actual act of scheduling the time.
Now I'm a little confused and concerned.
I think Jenni might be losing her mind.
Chuck Pace ©2008
I HAVEN'T LOST MY MIND, I JUST HAVEN'T FIGURED OUT WHERE I LEFT IT, IT'S HERE SOMEWHERE.
Last Night Standing
06/21/08 12:51 AM | Permalink
Friday came and went with even more car concerns and costly costs, but I think that may be the last major non elective auto-rehab for a spell. At least that is the optimistic hope.
My friday morning post with the lizard was a bit vague on the workings of that old black magic "Pace Luck!" Here is a bit more detail.
It started on Tuesday, the day (way early in the morning) that Meredith and Michael arrived. I got just enough sleep to be punchy all day at work, and looked forward to a nice collapse. Instead after sleeping the majority of the sunshine hours off for "road-cuperation" Meredith and Michael decided to come downtown. They picked Jenni up from work and we caravanned from the parking lot to the Chatterbox. I introduced Meredith and Michael to LeAnne L-Train bailey, Kristofer Bowman and Chris West, we made short work of a couple grain-barley concoctions and then hopped into Luna to see Maggie H. for a split second. Just long enough for me to purchase the latest Portis Head CD for the loving and lovely daughter. Home and discussions of eat. Eat was to be accomplished in the convertible with a jaunt to New Palestine's Frosty Boy drive-in. Packed it was with moms, dads and little leaguers from half pint to quart sizes, and one truly great great dane. Consumption happened to the food stuffs and a ride back was in order. I chose Gem road out of New Pal towards U.S.
40 and the roads namesake berg, Gem. Not three miles out of New Pal the car decided to jump into 2nd gear from a full on trot, and we experienced what is known in automotive parlance as "limp-mode." I got us home at 40 MPH the rest of the 7 miles and parked the car in the drive. A dark cloud had positioned itself over my reunion with daughter and a 'glorious only' week of happiness. No little blue pill solution would bring the White stallion Sebring out of limp mode. Jenni did what all super hero geek-types do in a time of crises. Searched message boards for failures like ours. Darkness followed the dark in the form of night.
Jessica and Alex joined Meredith and Michael in the gardens with copious amounts of "The Captain" and I Jenni and I took our leave of the day in slumber.
Wednesday I drove the Bimmer. I sulked and moped at work until lunch time when Meredith and Michael again joined us (the Wife and I) for lunch at the Claddagh. Jenni had more news on the probable problem that limp-ered the Sebring. A solution part might exist for under $30.00. After work ended I drove Jen and I home, stopping briefly at O'Reilly Auto to find that the note from lunch was now vapor ware and that the remembered name of said solution was an error, and no such thing existed. I dropped the maiden off at the World HQ where she reproduced the information and item by merely placing hands beside the keyboard of her computer. I then hopped back into the Bimmer again to try an procure part. It was there under its real name and under $20.00 then it was not (for it was now in my possession, my precious). Apparently in the under-construction to and from drives I damaged my rear drivers side tire. It failed to do its primary design function, hold air, and I had brought another dark cloud to bear on my world.
Thursday the long awaited day off. Thursday I was ordered to be up and cogent at 7:00 AM. A cruel thing to do to a man's day off. But it was for the arrival of the cable company commandos that the order was so given. They arrived at 7:11 (and didn't bring slushies or hot dogs) determined that which I already knew. My in-house cable receiving equipment was tip top and the signal strength was aces. I, like my wife before me (even though she was on her way to work and not at all before me) recommended a look in the junction box outside where twice in our digital storied past comcastic commandos had put some sort of signal filter in for denizens of the cul-de-sac further down the road. Twice before this filter or filters disrupted our signal and caused us untold grief (can you say Colts Playoffs 2006?). Twice before a technician had danced with my A/V equipment and found it a worthy dance companion and then found the culprit to be lurking inside the junction box outside. I said such to the dynamic duo. Yes they sent two on to subdue the angry customer who was lacking digital cable for a fortnight, and one to repair the problem I suspect. As I proposed the box solution and filter tampering they looked on with curious and circumspective gaze. They must have thought the consumer of a querulous nature but after about twenty minutes they came back in to announce, "Well there is a problem with that box (junction) and someone will be out later today or tomorrow to look at it, you do not have to be home and they don't need to come in." I took note of the us of look at it instead of fix it, and signed their silly paperwork.
To Be Continued...
My friday morning post with the lizard was a bit vague on the workings of that old black magic "Pace Luck!" Here is a bit more detail.
It started on Tuesday, the day (way early in the morning) that Meredith and Michael arrived. I got just enough sleep to be punchy all day at work, and looked forward to a nice collapse. Instead after sleeping the majority of the sunshine hours off for "road-cuperation" Meredith and Michael decided to come downtown. They picked Jenni up from work and we caravanned from the parking lot to the Chatterbox. I introduced Meredith and Michael to LeAnne L-Train bailey, Kristofer Bowman and Chris West, we made short work of a couple grain-barley concoctions and then hopped into Luna to see Maggie H. for a split second. Just long enough for me to purchase the latest Portis Head CD for the loving and lovely daughter. Home and discussions of eat. Eat was to be accomplished in the convertible with a jaunt to New Palestine's Frosty Boy drive-in. Packed it was with moms, dads and little leaguers from half pint to quart sizes, and one truly great great dane. Consumption happened to the food stuffs and a ride back was in order. I chose Gem road out of New Pal towards U.S.
40 and the roads namesake berg, Gem. Not three miles out of New Pal the car decided to jump into 2nd gear from a full on trot, and we experienced what is known in automotive parlance as "limp-mode." I got us home at 40 MPH the rest of the 7 miles and parked the car in the drive. A dark cloud had positioned itself over my reunion with daughter and a 'glorious only' week of happiness. No little blue pill solution would bring the White stallion Sebring out of limp mode. Jenni did what all super hero geek-types do in a time of crises. Searched message boards for failures like ours. Darkness followed the dark in the form of night.
Jessica and Alex joined Meredith and Michael in the gardens with copious amounts of "The Captain" and I Jenni and I took our leave of the day in slumber.
Wednesday I drove the Bimmer. I sulked and moped at work until lunch time when Meredith and Michael again joined us (the Wife and I) for lunch at the Claddagh. Jenni had more news on the probable problem that limp-ered the Sebring. A solution part might exist for under $30.00. After work ended I drove Jen and I home, stopping briefly at O'Reilly Auto to find that the note from lunch was now vapor ware and that the remembered name of said solution was an error, and no such thing existed. I dropped the maiden off at the World HQ where she reproduced the information and item by merely placing hands beside the keyboard of her computer. I then hopped back into the Bimmer again to try an procure part. It was there under its real name and under $20.00 then it was not (for it was now in my possession, my precious). Apparently in the under-construction to and from drives I damaged my rear drivers side tire. It failed to do its primary design function, hold air, and I had brought another dark cloud to bear on my world.
Thursday the long awaited day off. Thursday I was ordered to be up and cogent at 7:00 AM. A cruel thing to do to a man's day off. But it was for the arrival of the cable company commandos that the order was so given. They arrived at 7:11 (and didn't bring slushies or hot dogs) determined that which I already knew. My in-house cable receiving equipment was tip top and the signal strength was aces. I, like my wife before me (even though she was on her way to work and not at all before me) recommended a look in the junction box outside where twice in our digital storied past comcastic commandos had put some sort of signal filter in for denizens of the cul-de-sac further down the road. Twice before this filter or filters disrupted our signal and caused us untold grief (can you say Colts Playoffs 2006?). Twice before a technician had danced with my A/V equipment and found it a worthy dance companion and then found the culprit to be lurking inside the junction box outside. I said such to the dynamic duo. Yes they sent two on to subdue the angry customer who was lacking digital cable for a fortnight, and one to repair the problem I suspect. As I proposed the box solution and filter tampering they looked on with curious and circumspective gaze. They must have thought the consumer of a querulous nature but after about twenty minutes they came back in to announce, "Well there is a problem with that box (junction) and someone will be out later today or tomorrow to look at it, you do not have to be home and they don't need to come in." I took note of the us of look at it instead of fix it, and signed their silly paperwork.
To Be Continued...
Cable Guy pt 2
06/20/08 07:28 AM | Permalink
Goodness what a busy week. A week in which cable finally got fixed (and other things broke).
Meredith and Michael arrived on Tuesday morning at 4:32AM. I got to sleep that morning for about two and a half hours before heading off to the retail factory.
A no Frills day off. I have the scales under my eyes!
Cars. Travels, travails and a bit of honey in the shape of my only child.
Yesterday was like half a week just in itself. One car to the tire barn for new tires on the front. (An unexpected flat going to get a part for the other car which had its own unexpected surprise for the family). Another car to the shop to put on the (parenthetical) part, a trip to the zoo, and movie and, and.
Oh I'm out of time here I will relate when I won't have to be late.
Chuck Pace ©2008
Meredith and Michael arrived on Tuesday morning at 4:32AM. I got to sleep that morning for about two and a half hours before heading off to the retail factory.
A no Frills day off. I have the scales under my eyes!
Cars. Travels, travails and a bit of honey in the shape of my only child.
Yesterday was like half a week just in itself. One car to the tire barn for new tires on the front. (An unexpected flat going to get a part for the other car which had its own unexpected surprise for the family). Another car to the shop to put on the (parenthetical) part, a trip to the zoo, and movie and, and.
Oh I'm out of time here I will relate when I won't have to be late.
Chuck Pace ©2008
A Bridge Too Far Gone
06/04/08 01:12 AM | Permalink
The Moscow Bridge in Rush County 10/20/2007 , Chuck Pace ©2007, 2008
I got this e-mail from Kay last night:
To which I replied, "Yes I got a couple of dozen photos of the Moscow Bridge last fall";
The date was 10/20/07 and we, Jenni and I arrived at the Moscow Bridge at around 3:08 in the afternoon, I did take a plethora of pics of this most astounding bridge marvel. One of the longest standing Burr Arch style bridges in existence. Built in 1886 by Emmet L. Kennedy it was over 347 feet long (over the length of a Football Field) it had two internal arches and spanned the Big Flatrock River, and a feeder creek. Here are a fews of my shots from that day. I too am sorry about the loss of this historical monument to the past. This bridge was put on the National Register of by the U.S. Department of Interior, and its loss is another disconnect to our past and the ingenuity of the people of Indiana and America.
Here are some of my shots:
Above: The Entrance. Below: One of the Giant Arch spans.
Each side seen from the bank.
May she always be remembered for her 122 years of service.
Chuck Pace ©2008
Loss: Storms and Damages
06/01/08 11:46 PM | Permalink
Before we left Geneva for the second time on Wednesday night, I suggested that we get a room in Portland 11 miles to the south and take up the search again in the morning, it was around 11:15 PM then instead we headed back to Matthews and the Cumberland bridge which was the last place that we had gotten out of the car that had to be retraced. From there it was the interstate and home as quick as possible. Thursday I was in no mood to retrace the route and had resigned to the fact that the iPhone was gone, besides I had much more home-work to attend to and didn't really feel like another day on the road. Like I mentioned in the Mad Scramble Post I purchased a "cheaper" phone which had taken just about all the patience I had left.
One Room School from 1913 in a Jay County field on a Friday Afternoon.
Friday Morning: I ought to have my head examined. Well I am actually going to have my eyes examined at 9:40 roughly 20 minutes after Jenni goes in to have hers examined. By the time I get out of my optical observation and examination Jenni is already ready to get her glasses started in the about an hour process, We look at the 5 or so pairs of frames she has winnowed down to and I pick two that I like the best then she and I and Eve our optical consultant land on the pair that will be gracing her face from now on. In a similar process I narrow the ranks of ocular enhancement holding devices from four to one and we are off to the lab. They say about two hours total and we go home. Jenni is on a crusade to find a metal detector so we can storm the wooded path near the Ceylon Covered Bridge which is where I added my last notes on the iPhones note pad, and the last place I could place having the phone. At home Jenni calls our Wal-Mart and then the one in Portland Indiana too, then after none of them have a detector she tries Dicks and they say the have them.
A fine Round Barn in Jay County.
We pack up the car and cooler with waters and sodas again, but no cheeses or wines this time. This time it's not for leisure,and we high-tail it up to the Marion exit on I-69 and we're at the picnic area in just about 2 hours. No luck there so it's the Water tower spot and the Gene Stratton Porter home again and a call to the Geneva Marshall, who offers to write a letter for insurance purposes, but with a deductible there is no point. I decide that the trip to Matthews should be an experience at least now that the other three spots have failed to pan out. So it's small roads and bergs and missing towns like Corkwell, Center, Pony and Dunkirk which is a very nice little town. Just past where Pony should have been on Jay County CR 800 W a 1/4 mile south of Division Road was a nice Round Barn, and a mile and a quarter further south of that just off on CR 200 S was a dilapidated 1913 one room school house in a field. Matthews was a bust too as I had already expected, although we did uncover a copper belt buckle or a hair pin or something and two pennies with the metal detector. South out of Matthews we hit Gaston, Cammack, Yorktown, MIddletown and Markleville. Going south out of Markleville we found a farm selling brown eggs for $1.50 a dozen and relieved them of two dozen. Another couple of miles and we hit SR 234 which goes into McCordsville, then it was South to Mt Comfort, and bing, bang. boom we are home.
Friday Night: Just a couple miles north of us tornadoes touch down at 42nd St. and Mitthoeffer, then they continue due east through, Mt. Comfort RV and down a route I like to take to Greenfield, CR 200N which turns into New Rd in Greenfield.
No place for baby-dolls, straight line winds or Tornado, it was devastating.
The Power Towers look on at fallen comrades on either side of CR 200 N, you can almost see the sorrow in their drooping arms and slumped shoulders.
Saturday Morning: Up at the crack of early-enough we head to the LensCrafters and pick up our specs, then East on the National Road to Greenfield for breakfast at the Cracker Barrel there. We saw a few trees uprooted in Greenfield and some other storm related damage as we headed up SR 9 towards New road and the Breakfast. After eats I suggested we go home the way I like, and a couple of miles before Mt. Comfort Rd (CR 600 W) we encountered a road closed sign. We went on anyway until we were stopped by power lines down in the road , there was a lot of damage to trees and barns and a few torn up roofs on the area. We saw miracles like a huge tree broken off four feet from the ground not 25 feet from a small house without a scratch on it, or a canoe in the middle of a field, or a top of a pine tree a good half mile from any pine trees.
We had a few small branches broken and a couple of bushing plants looked as if a hippo had sat on them but other than that we suffered no real ill effects from the storms. During the downpour of rains and heavy winds we noticed that our downspouts and gutter were clogged, so Saturday after getting home from Greenfield I took my handy ladder and cleaned out the gutters, I also got up on the roof and looked around. There are a few shingles damaged up there.
Parting Shot: Pine Tree where is thy Home?
Chuck Pace ©2008
One Room School from 1913 in a Jay County field on a Friday Afternoon.
Friday Morning: I ought to have my head examined. Well I am actually going to have my eyes examined at 9:40 roughly 20 minutes after Jenni goes in to have hers examined. By the time I get out of my optical observation and examination Jenni is already ready to get her glasses started in the about an hour process, We look at the 5 or so pairs of frames she has winnowed down to and I pick two that I like the best then she and I and Eve our optical consultant land on the pair that will be gracing her face from now on. In a similar process I narrow the ranks of ocular enhancement holding devices from four to one and we are off to the lab. They say about two hours total and we go home. Jenni is on a crusade to find a metal detector so we can storm the wooded path near the Ceylon Covered Bridge which is where I added my last notes on the iPhones note pad, and the last place I could place having the phone. At home Jenni calls our Wal-Mart and then the one in Portland Indiana too, then after none of them have a detector she tries Dicks and they say the have them.
A fine Round Barn in Jay County.
We pack up the car and cooler with waters and sodas again, but no cheeses or wines this time. This time it's not for leisure,and we high-tail it up to the Marion exit on I-69 and we're at the picnic area in just about 2 hours. No luck there so it's the Water tower spot and the Gene Stratton Porter home again and a call to the Geneva Marshall, who offers to write a letter for insurance purposes, but with a deductible there is no point. I decide that the trip to Matthews should be an experience at least now that the other three spots have failed to pan out. So it's small roads and bergs and missing towns like Corkwell, Center, Pony and Dunkirk which is a very nice little town. Just past where Pony should have been on Jay County CR 800 W a 1/4 mile south of Division Road was a nice Round Barn, and a mile and a quarter further south of that just off on CR 200 S was a dilapidated 1913 one room school house in a field. Matthews was a bust too as I had already expected, although we did uncover a copper belt buckle or a hair pin or something and two pennies with the metal detector. South out of Matthews we hit Gaston, Cammack, Yorktown, MIddletown and Markleville. Going south out of Markleville we found a farm selling brown eggs for $1.50 a dozen and relieved them of two dozen. Another couple of miles and we hit SR 234 which goes into McCordsville, then it was South to Mt Comfort, and bing, bang. boom we are home.
Friday Night: Just a couple miles north of us tornadoes touch down at 42nd St. and Mitthoeffer, then they continue due east through, Mt. Comfort RV and down a route I like to take to Greenfield, CR 200N which turns into New Rd in Greenfield.
No place for baby-dolls, straight line winds or Tornado, it was devastating.
The Power Towers look on at fallen comrades on either side of CR 200 N, you can almost see the sorrow in their drooping arms and slumped shoulders.
We had a few small branches broken and a couple of bushing plants looked as if a hippo had sat on them but other than that we suffered no real ill effects from the storms. During the downpour of rains and heavy winds we noticed that our downspouts and gutter were clogged, so Saturday after getting home from Greenfield I took my handy ladder and cleaned out the gutters, I also got up on the roof and looked around. There are a few shingles damaged up there.
Parting Shot: Pine Tree where is thy Home?
Chuck Pace ©2008
Amble and Mad Scramble
06/01/08 11:33 AM | Permalink
Wednesday: The National Road, US 40 which cuts through the center of Indianapolis goes West as far as St. Louis MO (originally only to Vandalia Illinois) and East all the way to Maryland. Wednesday morning I proposed to my wife a trip that would take us as far as Richmond to the east and then North to Ceylon. Now the most brilliant of you will sparkle like Rubies and Sapphires from exotic Ceylon just of the southern coast of India, but I do not mean Sri Lanka which was know as Ceylon until 1972. I mean Ceylon Indiana (see; adding the extra na after India moves you thousands of miles closer to Indianapolis --at a considerable savings in gas too).
Gas in the car, crackers, cheeses, wine and sodas coolered and in the trunk, top down boot in place for added aero and the Garmin on the dash, we headed out at 1:18PM. A leisurely pace set (for two leisurely Pace's) we stopped at several of the Historic National Road Yard Sale stops. This is the 5th year that the states of Maryland, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana and Illinois have held this event, and it will continue yearly until at least 2012 on the first Wednesday after Memorial day thru the following Sunday.
Downtown Lewisville and a Public Works. Chuck Pace © 2008
During the northward leg of the days adventure we drove through the towns of Chester, Fountain City, Lynn , Winchester, Randolph, Deerfield, Bluff Point, College Corner, Portland, Pleasant Ridge, Antiville, Bryant, Geneva and Ceylon. All during the trip from our leaving Indy to our destination I would use the iPhones "notes" feature to record times and places and oddities. The trip from Cumberland to Ceylon's Bridge took us 112 miles and 4 hours 20 minutes.
Looking SE at the Ceylon Bridge over the Wabash. Chuck Pace ©2008
Since I had gone to Matthews alone and taken photos of the Cumberland Bridge on the Mississenewa River in the late fall of '07 on one of my Thursdays off, I thought Jenni might like to see it in all its splendor with her own eyes. Besides it was on the route I chose to head back to Indy, on a day of wander-lost. she readily agreed and we headed back down US 27 to SR 18 which goes East and West from Ohio to Illinois. Our trip would only use 20 of its approximately 150 or miles, and we joined it already in progress at Bryant leaving it again at Roll after having driven through Fiat, Matamoras and Montpelier. South on SR 1 to Hartford City then West again on SR's 26/22 until SR 26 it splits with SR 22 and heads south 2.5 miles before again turning West. At that turn point there is a road that takes you into Matthews and becomes of all things Massachusetts Avenue a 1/2 mile strip of road at a 45° angle to the N/S-E/W grid that is Indiana. Having been there once before I drove straight to the bridge and we de-verted and stretched and photographed and marveled. Then back on the road back up to SR 26 and to the Interstate for a short jaunt.
We exited I-69 at the Muncie/Alexandria exit SR 28/US 35. The Petros truck stop allowed us to fill the cars tank and empty our internal tanks. Alexandria and then Elwood where I stopped to put the top up since sunburned arms were getting cold and dusk was upon us. At the southern tip of Elwood IN 13 joins up with SR 37 for about 7 miles until SR 13 continues nearly due South and SR 37 goes S/SE to Noblesville and then Indy. We stayed on 13 through Perkinsville, Fishersberg, Lapel and Hardscrabble. A mile south of Hardscrabble, less than twenty miles from Fortville I reached down to adjust my belt and seat-belt. That's when it happened. That's when I noticed.
"WHERE THE HELL IS MY iPHONE!!" I pulled over at the next crossroads, got the car out of the road and then the mad scramble and panic. Under the Seats, the armrest and glovebox, the trunk, pockets, door pockets. The trunk again all the other spots again under the spare tire in the trunk in the cooler the bags again and again.
After a 10 minute repetitive search with a full barrage of expletives a minute to compose thoughts, mentally retrace steps, plan a course of futility or recovery.
Places out of the car. McClure station at SR 28 and SR 37 to put top up. Petros fuel station and restroom SR 28 @ I-69. Matthews Bridge and park. Turn of the last century Indiana author Gene Stratton Porter house in Geneva. Geneva water tower photo opp. Ceylon Bridge, woods, park and picnic area.
The Water-tower photo and the Gene Stratton Porter domicile, CDP © 5/28/08
WE turned around and went back, at McClure I asked and got the nopes from two station employees. Then I spent $7.00 on a shitty flashlight and two re-packaged Duracell D batteries. Petros. Nope-os. Now it is dark, we take 69 North to Marion exit then 18 east all the way back to Bryant and up to Geneva. Not in Stratton Porter parking or areas outside I visited. Spot from which I photographed Geneva tower. Nada. Ceylon Bridge in the dark, headlights , fog lights and intermittent flashlight to no avail. Back on SR 18 then to Matthews and the Cumberland bridge. Then depression set in. We were home at 1:30 AM Thursday morning for a nights sleep. 10 am Thursday at ATT to see what, and if and now what. A new iPhone is coming in a few months with newer, better and more features. so the Idea is to wait. The clerk suggests an upgrade which is in reality a downgrade and almost a torture device by comparison.
Any device designed and based on a illogical and counter intuitive Windows system is going to be difficult to use. Nothing is as easy and intuitive as the iPhone which since day one I never had to refer to a manual or even looked up anything on the computer with the iPhone. Like they say. It just works.
I spent the rest of Thursday cussing the damnable Blackberry Pearl II, and adding insulation to the garage doors. Gardening and Watching "The Good Shepherd."
The Cumberland Bridge re-revisited. Chuck Pace © 2008
Friday we went to Dick's Sporting Goods and bought a metal detector (if Travis was not on vacation too, I would have borrowed his. I have run afoul of my Luck-Dragon I guess) and went back to the 'out of car' sites again in daylight. Guess what? We found out that I still had the Phone on my hip when we left the Ceylon Bridge from photos Jenni downloaded after we got back from Fridays re-occuring day-mare.
At least I added more photos to my growing Cumberland Bridge library. More about Friday's trip in the next post; I am here for 4 1/2 hours doing this one with photos and research and I now have to go make 'eat on fire outside'. Ugg!
Chuck Pace (CDP) ©2008
Prior to Amble
06/01/08 09:23 AM | Permalink
You will think this strange. When in reality it is a balance achieved. Yin and Yang are served. There is a part of each in the other and they cannot be separated.
I chose the past week to take my second vacation for a reason. That reason is my daughters birthing anniversary. Lovely Meredith's birth remembrance day was on the 27th of May, the last day in which I posted, until now.
Much has befell me and my wife since the great day of daughter. Shall I illuminate your path of my recollection with a beacon of words gentle traveler?
When the time off was first requested (way back in January) it was my thought that we drive to Florida and surprise Meredith on her day. This was prior to the death of das Mädchen, or the rebuilding of the Blue Frankenstien. Then there came the great Convertible buy (under extremely sad conditions), and a open air drive was added to amend the trip plans. Before that happened but not long after that Meredith the brave, bold and brilliant bought a black beauty. She did her homework as befits a bold, brave...etc. and after a few days of haggling drove off a Dodge dealership with her very first new car. A Dodge Caliber to be exact, this gave my darling daughter happy feet (well foot actually, since there is only one actively involved in most of the automatic transmission motoring). She declared to her mother, (who's own birthing remembrance is in this newly born month) that she would be upon our doorstep prior to the celebrated day. Another decision was reached and our plans of a Florida in the sun became vapor.
Saturday May 24th: At precisely 4:31PM my vacation began as my workweek came to a close. I had thought that since the vacation trip to The Sunshine State was aborted that a three day affair in West Middle Tennessee might indeed be in order. Wednesday would have been the target day of exodus. Yet again a decision was made and it came not to pass my brethren.
Sunday: Race day and Cathy Morris w/ Darrell and Jack at the Chatterbox afterwards.
Monday: Memorial day. I tried to reach my brother Dennis near Kokomo and found that the phone numbers were no longer available. Called dad and wished him a happy memorial day, and got Dennis and Cathy's new cell phone numbers (like so m,any others they have ditched the land line and gone cell phonly, brain tumors be damned! I spent the day choring and projecting, the night aching.
Tuesday: Planting and more chores and tasks knocked off the list. Bowling: a resurrection of sorts, after a major correction series the week before rendering my high average and low handicap ineffectual I recovered a bit with one game over handicap (the only one we won).
Wednesday: With two plans already aborted and a bit of hey we should be having fun because it's our vacation we decided to take a road trip. I chose a destination based on those bridges that are to shy to be uncovered (which Indiana has an abundance of I might add).
This is when it happened, the absolute low point of the entire vacation and a major bummer for the year I also add.
I think Wednesday requires its own post.
CDP ©2008
I chose the past week to take my second vacation for a reason. That reason is my daughters birthing anniversary. Lovely Meredith's birth remembrance day was on the 27th of May, the last day in which I posted, until now.
Much has befell me and my wife since the great day of daughter. Shall I illuminate your path of my recollection with a beacon of words gentle traveler?
When the time off was first requested (way back in January) it was my thought that we drive to Florida and surprise Meredith on her day. This was prior to the death of das Mädchen, or the rebuilding of the Blue Frankenstien. Then there came the great Convertible buy (under extremely sad conditions), and a open air drive was added to amend the trip plans. Before that happened but not long after that Meredith the brave, bold and brilliant bought a black beauty. She did her homework as befits a bold, brave...etc. and after a few days of haggling drove off a Dodge dealership with her very first new car. A Dodge Caliber to be exact, this gave my darling daughter happy feet (well foot actually, since there is only one actively involved in most of the automatic transmission motoring). She declared to her mother, (who's own birthing remembrance is in this newly born month) that she would be upon our doorstep prior to the celebrated day. Another decision was reached and our plans of a Florida in the sun became vapor.
Saturday May 24th: At precisely 4:31PM my vacation began as my workweek came to a close. I had thought that since the vacation trip to The Sunshine State was aborted that a three day affair in West Middle Tennessee might indeed be in order. Wednesday would have been the target day of exodus. Yet again a decision was made and it came not to pass my brethren.
Monday: Memorial day. I tried to reach my brother Dennis near Kokomo and found that the phone numbers were no longer available. Called dad and wished him a happy memorial day, and got Dennis and Cathy's new cell phone numbers (like so m,any others they have ditched the land line and gone cell phonly, brain tumors be damned! I spent the day choring and projecting, the night aching.
Tuesday: Planting and more chores and tasks knocked off the list. Bowling: a resurrection of sorts, after a major correction series the week before rendering my high average and low handicap ineffectual I recovered a bit with one game over handicap (the only one we won).
Wednesday: With two plans already aborted and a bit of hey we should be having fun because it's our vacation we decided to take a road trip. I chose a destination based on those bridges that are to shy to be uncovered (which Indiana has an abundance of I might add).
This is when it happened, the absolute low point of the entire vacation and a major bummer for the year I also add.
I think Wednesday requires its own post.
CDP ©2008
What a Concept
05/27/08 09:23 PM | Permalink
Reality? That is for everyone else. I chose to remain quietly disengaged. No that is not actually true. I am right here in the thick of it I am steeped in reality. I'm not just up to my neck like some (who leave their heads out for some reason --which is a lack of reason), I'm completely submersed in it most of the time.
The most unreal thing in my life right 'this second' is the vacation I seem to be finding myself in. Sure I have projects, projects, projects. I have projects to start, continue, rethink, complete, deconstruct and redo.
I have the Yard and Garden which is like a Federal Tax; it never gets done right, it never goes away, it grows in ways you didn't see coming and it is half consumed with weeds and corruption before the first fruits of labor are even apparent, if you ignore it for a few days the work to get it back in some kind of order is twice as difficult and if you concentrate on one area to full satisfaction the rest has completely gone to hell behind your back!
I'm disgusted with my Yarden now that I have analyzed it. I think I should go in a completely new direction. Each year I have a better garden, I am building the best garden I can with my resources, I need to re-do the garden. I need to give the same attention to every plant and area, promise to make each blade of grass the happiest blade of grass in the yard, instead of getting rid of my weeds and putting up borders I should tear down all the borders, I could feed the weeds too, they have a right to be here, I could stop burning precious fossil fuels to keep the grasses in check, I could get an electric mower (electricity is free and no fuels are used to convert one sort of energy into another anymore electric is clean at my end therefore it must be clean, and cheap and pollution free where it is created too, right?)
There will be no more dry patches in my yard either all the areas will get along. Since the planet is 67% water I will not have or allow dry spots, I will ask the wet areas to share with the dry ones and all will be happy. I will ask the plants to be the same color under the stem. I will have a utopian -socialist yarden, oh and I need to get all of my neighbors to pay for it since they will benefit from my perfect order, they should pay, especially the ones with better gardens. I should have my pick of their plants and efforts, I don't care if they put more time and effort in than I, I have a right to be pleased with my yard.
I'm Chuck Pace and I approve this Message!
I think I have to get out of the house and yard for a bit. Something got me thinking I have all the answers. Just because I've been tending a small patch of earth for a few years, I believed I could run the whole terrestrial terrarium. Is that crazy or what?
Hey, Jenni! Wanna go for a drive? It's supposed to get nice.
Chuck Pace ©2008
The most unreal thing in my life right 'this second' is the vacation I seem to be finding myself in. Sure I have projects, projects, projects. I have projects to start, continue, rethink, complete, deconstruct and redo.
I have the Yard and Garden which is like a Federal Tax; it never gets done right, it never goes away, it grows in ways you didn't see coming and it is half consumed with weeds and corruption before the first fruits of labor are even apparent, if you ignore it for a few days the work to get it back in some kind of order is twice as difficult and if you concentrate on one area to full satisfaction the rest has completely gone to hell behind your back!
I'm disgusted with my Yarden now that I have analyzed it. I think I should go in a completely new direction. Each year I have a better garden, I am building the best garden I can with my resources, I need to re-do the garden. I need to give the same attention to every plant and area, promise to make each blade of grass the happiest blade of grass in the yard, instead of getting rid of my weeds and putting up borders I should tear down all the borders, I could feed the weeds too, they have a right to be here, I could stop burning precious fossil fuels to keep the grasses in check, I could get an electric mower (electricity is free and no fuels are used to convert one sort of energy into another anymore electric is clean at my end therefore it must be clean, and cheap and pollution free where it is created too, right?)
There will be no more dry patches in my yard either all the areas will get along. Since the planet is 67% water I will not have or allow dry spots, I will ask the wet areas to share with the dry ones and all will be happy. I will ask the plants to be the same color under the stem. I will have a utopian -socialist yarden, oh and I need to get all of my neighbors to pay for it since they will benefit from my perfect order, they should pay, especially the ones with better gardens. I should have my pick of their plants and efforts, I don't care if they put more time and effort in than I, I have a right to be pleased with my yard.
I'm Chuck Pace and I approve this Message!
I think I have to get out of the house and yard for a bit. Something got me thinking I have all the answers. Just because I've been tending a small patch of earth for a few years, I believed I could run the whole terrestrial terrarium. Is that crazy or what?
Hey, Jenni! Wanna go for a drive? It's supposed to get nice.
Chuck Pace ©2008
Time Out...
05/27/08 03:34 PM | Permalink
How I spent my late Spring Vacation: Pt 1
The day started with me digging post holes for the posts I made on my last official day off prior to this weeks vacation recess. I dado'ed and hole sawed capitals unto pressure treated lumber on Thursday so that I could dig holes and run creeper wire for the vegetables that Jenni is soon to be plugging into the soils between my master works. I dug holes, leveled and straightened and then ran creeper wire until I ran out of 20 gauge wire. Then it was break for supplies and victuals.
Then planting, and mowing and clean-up and cleaning up and watching 3 more Band of Brother Episodes while ingesting Chiko-Rice-Lemony Snackets.
The 'nuther angle of the same old thing deal. Pt 2.
Tuesday: The vegetation is starting to take shape, and the vacation is officially on, as it is now Tuesday and I am "at it" again today. Later I will be taking my sod-pounding sore self to the Alley where the bowling is taking place. Between then and now I will format photos and get myself a little rest. Speaking of photo, Jenni took some garden photos too hers are available fore oohing and ahhing at blogspot linked right here for your convenience.
The pictures here are all mine though. Including this rather oriental set from this afternoon complete with Foo Dog Dragon!
Chuck Pace ©2008
Long Live Longevity
05/12/08 07:14 AM | Permalink
Jenni didn't feel well on Mother's Day. She got an allergy or something from Friday or Saturday in the garden I guess. Her eyes were puffy and swollen. She stayed a'bed much of the early part of the day. I ran a few Mother fetcher errands, brought home the dinner, etc... we watched the last three episodes of Firefly. Then, when that was over I decided I had to go buy Serenity for both of us (Mother's day), so I was off on another Mother Fetching run! I got to BestBuy and bought, then I looked around and found too. Unlike those early adopters who pay a premium for new technologies I have adopted a different style of shopping the "Too Late Accepters" and there on the shelf was my procrastination prize, an out of box 'floor model only' Toshiba HD DVD player with remote. I looked for one HD DVD to play in it at BestBuy and later at Meijer, to no avail. Then I popped home ever so stealthily and brought in the video bacon.
The outsides of the houses and stores were mighty damp and not very pleasant, but inside we were up-converting Serenity to 1080i and loving every moment. Even 'Puffy Eyes' saw clearer than ever before. So the short run for HD DVD in the Hi-Def Wars may be over but we have finally stepped into the battlefield...
...long after the dust has settled!
Chuck Pace ©2008
The outsides of the houses and stores were mighty damp and not very pleasant, but inside we were up-converting Serenity to 1080i and loving every moment. Even 'Puffy Eyes' saw clearer than ever before. So the short run for HD DVD in the Hi-Def Wars may be over but we have finally stepped into the battlefield...
...long after the dust has settled!
Chuck Pace ©2008
Broken Record
04/29/08 06:41 AM | Permalink
So last night after work... Like so many Mondays it was time to go see DeAnne and Nicci. Mike Wilson decided to make a semi-rare appearance, and Meredith's best Indy bud Jessica Lipman made and even rarer showing. John David who went to the eye Dr. made his usual late arrival, Mel, Rich, Kay, Monica, Jody F., Chris West and Mary Ann Beuke were already there when I got there in the C-car with Jenni who had to be Enterprised (We Pick You Up) to the spot since it was raining. Other than catching up with Jessica a bit the evenings entertainment was back to back episodes of Cash Cab on the bar's LCD TV. Rich told a harrowing tale of Manure towing and swapping ends on highway 36 when the overloaded trailer jackknifed and spun he and JD around 180 in the middle of the road. Manure maneuver '08 ended with out to much stuff hitting the fan and in the end only a wheel-barrel's worth of horse hockey hit the highway. The rest of the ride Rich kept the scat from scattering by keeping the Jeep under 35 mph.
So last night after the Chatterbox... Having seen Frankton alum Nicci H. for a brief moment at the box, and Meredith's best Jr. and Sr. High School friend I though I would call Dwaine Jackson,
my best friend from my Frankton School years. It has been over a dozen years since we talked, well over . I didn't know that he had 16 and 13 year old daughters. I talked to his mother last October and got a phone number and address (which turns out to be someone else's address not her son's) so I phoned. We caught up a bit, and I asked if he was going to our 30th anniversary class reunion. He said he had not talked to Les Hiatt (the class of '78 prez) but had seen he had called a couple of times. I said if he didn't go I had no reason to, and we'd have to catch up on our own some time. We talked a while longer and then I got back to cleaning the garage. I took two huge garden size bags of detritus out to the curb for todays garbage p/u.
All of this garden variety garage glamorization is for the return of the Blue Frankenstein from Black Forrest Motors. The BFB will have it's bed back and to put the convertible out in the driveway, Ya Vol!
Well the hour is nigh that I have to ride the roads to gainful employ and earn enough money to house and feed (fuel) the four wheeled wonders in and about the garage de World HQ. Ciao Kiddies, and welcome to the newest -Thoughtpukes- readers the Dwaine Jackson Family.
Chuck Pace ©2008
So last night after the Chatterbox... Having seen Frankton alum Nicci H. for a brief moment at the box, and Meredith's best Jr. and Sr. High School friend I though I would call Dwaine Jackson,
All of this garden variety garage glamorization is for the return of the Blue Frankenstein from Black Forrest Motors. The BFB will have it's bed back and to put the convertible out in the driveway, Ya Vol!
Well the hour is nigh that I have to ride the roads to gainful employ and earn enough money to house and feed (fuel) the four wheeled wonders in and about the garage de World HQ. Ciao Kiddies, and welcome to the newest -Thoughtpukes- readers the Dwaine Jackson Family.
Chuck Pace ©2008
Re-Entry & Mixed Blessings
04/26/08 07:39 AM | Permalink
Transitions are always difficult. Some more so that others but all have compromise and/or acclimation to deal with. That is as true when returning from a great vacation as it is when returning from a really crappy one. I have done both, I know. This last vacation was spectacular. There were no really bad moments. There were no arguments with my copilot through this vacation. There were few decisions that were not met equally with approval or disapproval during the trip. But there were other factors to be weighed. It has been a week since the final day of the trip and I have not kept up on the post. Other things have been in play. Very serious things and not all of them really my place to remark on, or embellish on much.
Several weeks before the trip got under way, not long after the death of the Madchen in fact. Jenni and I were awaiting the insurance check, and looking for a replacement vehicle when one presented itself to us as a future option. The date of the option was left in the air, and we decided to use some of our insurance money to rebuild the Blue Frankenstein since it's future could be more easily tracked than our own. Then there was vacations, which were already scheduled in early January (the 3rd as I remember). So my plans were altered with the death of my beloved Bimmer but the goals were not changed much.
Option exorcised. After the death of the Bimmer, Jenni's friend and boss Rebecca asked if we wanted to buy her father's convertible. We said yes, why yes indeed. The stipulation was that we could not drive it away until after he finally succumbed to the lung cancer that was bound to lay him low sooner than later. We made arrangements, deposits, got title, and time marched on.
We arrived in Dodgeville Wisconsin on Monday the 14th, the next night after a fun day of House on the Rock frolic and a great dinner at "The Shed" in Spring Green we returned to the Inn and had Whirlpool Hot/Tub bath and relaxation, that night Rebecca called and said well you can come get the Convertible. Her father, David Rasp had indeed lost his battle with the big C and the car awaited our return and a decent scheduled time to bring it to its new home. With all the things involved in the passing of a loved one many things took precedence over the turning over of the keys and such, so we waited until Tuesday, and then after jump starting the car brought it to its new home.
I have no name for the Sebring Convertible. It is a fine and beautiful thing, and I will cherish it forever. Sad though it is how it came into our life, we will make it a tribute and an honor to the man who owned it before us.
The New Convertible, It shall "live long and prosper" in my care.
Chuck Pace ©2008
Several weeks before the trip got under way, not long after the death of the Madchen in fact. Jenni and I were awaiting the insurance check, and looking for a replacement vehicle when one presented itself to us as a future option. The date of the option was left in the air, and we decided to use some of our insurance money to rebuild the Blue Frankenstein since it's future could be more easily tracked than our own. Then there was vacations, which were already scheduled in early January (the 3rd as I remember). So my plans were altered with the death of my beloved Bimmer but the goals were not changed much.
We arrived in Dodgeville Wisconsin on Monday the 14th, the next night after a fun day of House on the Rock frolic and a great dinner at "The Shed" in Spring Green we returned to the Inn and had Whirlpool Hot/Tub bath and relaxation, that night Rebecca called and said well you can come get the Convertible. Her father, David Rasp had indeed lost his battle with the big C and the car awaited our return and a decent scheduled time to bring it to its new home. With all the things involved in the passing of a loved one many things took precedence over the turning over of the keys and such, so we waited until Tuesday, and then after jump starting the car brought it to its new home.
I have no name for the Sebring Convertible. It is a fine and beautiful thing, and I will cherish it forever. Sad though it is how it came into our life, we will make it a tribute and an honor to the man who owned it before us.
The New Convertible, It shall "live long and prosper" in my care.
Chuck Pace ©2008
Pleading the Fifth
04/19/08 03:36 PM | Permalink
Friday. The fifth and final day of the road trip. What stays in Michigan probably happens in Michigan. We only happened to drive through it from the southern reaches of the U.P. all they way over to the glove and down. From Benton Harbor we shot East South East on M31 until we got to Niles, at Niles we got onto M12.
Lunkers in Niles Michigan, what else need be said?
In Niles I pulled into the parking lot of Lunkers to get a photo of their sign. We entered Indiana 10 miles past Christiana Lake and Adamsville turning south off of M12 onto M131 which became Highway 15 in Indiana from there we ventured South and East until we got to highway 5 and took it into Shipshewana and Amish country. After buying some grass feed beef products we continued South until Ligonier where we grabbed 33 and went SE on it until highway 9. At Columbia City we darted over to Ft. Wayne on 30 then grabbed I-69 down to our next stop. 717 N. Capitol Ave. in Indianapolis to pick up Charlie from the Tender Loving Pets Doggy Day Care.
These original 1HP jalopies own the roads in Shipshewana
Home with Charlie I unpacked the rental for the last time. It was obvious that his eye sight had degraded even more in the 5 days since he was dropped off. He ran into a lot of things in the yard, and even into Jenni's leg once. After the unpacking was done I called the store to see if I had packages there, Rich had two waiting for me so we agreed to meet up at the Chatterbox for a parts transfer. We also had jumper cables for another mission that didn't happen yesterday. That story will have it telling in due time.
I got my replacement center console. I got my rubber isolator boot for the shifter and the grommets for my trunk emblem while I was away playing. Plus in the mailbox at the house I got my center cap stickers for the Blue Frankensteins wheels (but they were the wrong size ones, so I have to contact the e-bay guy I got them from for a correction of order). After the Chatterbox Jenni went to the store so it was time to play in the garage again. I replaced the isolator boot and cleaned parts and when Jenni got home (at just after 9) she gave me automobile detailing toys and carpet cleaner (which works really well). So I cleaned carpets and parts and prepared for Saturday when I could begin putting the interior back together.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Lunkers in Niles Michigan, what else need be said?
In Niles I pulled into the parking lot of Lunkers to get a photo of their sign. We entered Indiana 10 miles past Christiana Lake and Adamsville turning south off of M12 onto M131 which became Highway 15 in Indiana from there we ventured South and East until we got to highway 5 and took it into Shipshewana and Amish country. After buying some grass feed beef products we continued South until Ligonier where we grabbed 33 and went SE on it until highway 9. At Columbia City we darted over to Ft. Wayne on 30 then grabbed I-69 down to our next stop. 717 N. Capitol Ave. in Indianapolis to pick up Charlie from the Tender Loving Pets Doggy Day Care.
These original 1HP jalopies own the roads in Shipshewana
Home with Charlie I unpacked the rental for the last time. It was obvious that his eye sight had degraded even more in the 5 days since he was dropped off. He ran into a lot of things in the yard, and even into Jenni's leg once. After the unpacking was done I called the store to see if I had packages there, Rich had two waiting for me so we agreed to meet up at the Chatterbox for a parts transfer. We also had jumper cables for another mission that didn't happen yesterday. That story will have it telling in due time.
I got my replacement center console. I got my rubber isolator boot for the shifter and the grommets for my trunk emblem while I was away playing. Plus in the mailbox at the house I got my center cap stickers for the Blue Frankensteins wheels (but they were the wrong size ones, so I have to contact the e-bay guy I got them from for a correction of order). After the Chatterbox Jenni went to the store so it was time to play in the garage again. I replaced the isolator boot and cleaned parts and when Jenni got home (at just after 9) she gave me automobile detailing toys and carpet cleaner (which works really well). So I cleaned carpets and parts and prepared for Saturday when I could begin putting the interior back together.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Conclusion? Four Gone
04/18/08 08:37 AM | Permalink
We left Green Bay with smiles on both our faces (mine so prominent that it kept spilling over onto Jenni's). My next destination Manistique Michigan in the Upper Peninsula. We got there after 10:00 so the sidewalks were already rolled up and put away. But the point was to get inside the U.P. and sleep which the Econo Lodge allowed to do. The next morning it was up with a crack (and a pop and a few groans too). Packing the car back with all of our stuff it was time for a pleasant drive to White Fish Point, where there be a Shipwreck Museum. White Fish Point is horn of land jutting out into Lake Superior. There is a lighthouse there, and The Great Lakes Museum. The Museum officially opens on May 1st, but there is an appointment only routine that we tried to rig using Aldiss Lamps, Semaphore and Cell Phones. I would leave a message. They would reply that they got the message. Jenni would leave a message. My new I-Phone worked well everywhere but the upper reaches of the U.P., Jenni's sprint phone didn't work well at all and 90% of the trip she was roaming. Neither of our phones were working when we reached W.F. Point, there were workmen repairing sidewalks, and people at the Coast Guard Station, but the Museum itself seemed closed. We never heard if our 'by appointment' tour was granted, and so we just
walked out to the beach and gathered Superior Tumbled stones of unimaginable beauty. The wind was blowing at about 30 knots, the temperature on the Point was just under 40° and the breakers off the beach were frozen snow-mounds covered with wind blown sand. After we were blown and stoned enough we traipsed back to the rental car (mercifully black and sitting in full, sun) where we sat looking long lingering looks at the closed Museum.
Jenni Looks South East Towards "The Glove" of Michigan.
So we did the logical thing. We told Karen (our Aussie sheela, GPS guide) to takes us to Mackinaw City. She was guiding us along the way, giving useful driving info after we had traveled about 70 miles, and made one or two turns Jenni considered suspect, I pulled over and had a talk with Karen about her choices. The avoidance's tab for toll-roads had been checked, so she was sending us all the way to Indiana and around the non toll roads and back up the other side of the lake to get to Mackinaw since the bridges is a toll affair. I unchecked the tab and she recalculated the way in her automated best.
It was during this come to Jay-Suss meeting with Karen that I also got the message from Jennifer at Whit Fish Point some 70 miles (and 85 minutes) to our rear that someone would indeed be there at the Lighthouse to take us in for our appointment tour of the museum at 12:00. Here is where I say that I timed the drive perfectly and we turned the car off at The Point at 12:01. So I got my first two disappointments all in the same 90 minute period of my vacation. The long detour, and the missed Museum moments. We did not turn back.
Four Studies of low-tide backwaters on a Lake Michigan Beach.
Highway 2 runs right along Lake Michigan, and afforded us some lovely views and just 8 miles south of Epoufette we stopped at a rest stop and walked the beach where I took the series of shots of the water on the beach and The Missus looking out to the water that adorn this litany of words.
Once we got our saucy Aussie guide to see the light of reason Mackinaw Bridge was a breeze (22 knots worth). Next was a jaunt through Petoskey, (which didn't rock) and a long drive down to Benton Harbor for the night. A stop at the Wal*Mart for a new nightgown for Jenni and some ice for our cooler, another at the Steak and Shake for evening meal and we were up to the third floor of the Comfort Inn Sites for the night. Day for ended like it began, packing and unpacking.
Chuck Pace © 2008
The House Rocks
04/17/08 12:00 AM | Permalink
Alex Jordan's Infinity room from ground level looking up.
Side view of Taliesin from Iowa County Rd C.
We also stopped and voyeured some Frank Lloyd Wright houses onto digital memory cards through the modern technologies. The former home of Mr. Wright "Taliesin" is just 6 miles or so from The HOTR, plus there is The School House, and another FLW house all around the curve of highway 23 heading into Spring Green. The Frank Lloyd Wright visiter center and restaurant just west of Taliesin by 2/10ths of a mile was not open for the season, and there were no tours of the houses either, but they are still accessible from the side of the road. So day two of the no longer a mystery Mystery Vacation was a rousing success.
Three Quarter view of Taliesin.
So after that we headed north and east to...
...my next post.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Welcome to Wisconsin
04/15/08 09:40 AM | Permalink
We didn't' leave Indy until just after noon. The drive out of town through site after cite of construction was the worst part of the trip.
The drive itself provided not one unwelcome surprise. The weather was wonderful and the sky was filled with fluffy dumpling clouds in a lovely azure broth as far as the eye could see in all directions. When we left Illinois for the Dairy State I had to pull over and get a picture. Of course there is a dairy farm in the photo what else.
After de-trunking the baggage (not Jenni, she was my copilot), we ran over to the local Wal*Mart to get sundries and bathing suits (I forgot to pack mine, and Jenni has lost enough weight to not have a suitable suit) then ti Culver's for dinner.
After that it was time to find the HOTR itself. Of course it was closed but I wanted to see where it was none the less. 7.6 miles from my temporary bed is the gate proper. We stopped and took pictures of the Dragons guarding the entrance until sunrise. Now it is 9:00 AM and the attraction is open. It is time to head those 7.6 miles and step into a world not our own.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Nearer and Nearer
04/03/08 09:58 PM | Permalink
My vacation starts in 10 days. I work on Saturday the 12th then I am off until 8:30 am on April 21st. At work today, in anticipation of the Super secret Mystery Vacation I purchased a Garmin® NUVI 660 GPS unit. Jenni played with it for nearly an hour while I was at the ATT store replacing my iPhone case-mate case which expelled its spring somewhere along the way. I won't be able to load the SSMV location into the Garmin® until right before we head out, otherwise curious minds might discern the real location long before I want them too. I will most likely be renting an automobile for the trek to the Placesterious Vacaystination, since there is no way I can have the Blue Frankenstein road ready by the end of nest week. It would require a Miracle of miraculous proportions to get the purchased parts on, and the confidence up to drive the umptrillion parsectors to Obscuria, Diversia and back I'll tell you what! Plus what would I do if we were to break down in the Imagaplains and had to call a tow truck? How would I explain where we weren't? It is most perplexing.
Jenni asked if I would have her blindfolded the entire way, since I have the very secretive mission to not divulge. I would say only about 6 hours worth of blindfolding will be necessary. However a full on gag all the way to Stopperage Station might well be in order. I can only imagine the peaceful drive through the golden fields of bleet and chlorophylum. No I could never do that to her. I love her and totally fear the retribution, and retaliation. Besides the half of the journey that is the getting there would be unfairly missed. There is also the very real possibility that we may be stopping to p(hoto) more often than we stop to pee. It would look bad to have other travelers seeing the missus gagged and blindfolded in a rent-a-car while I am photographing a mushed blatherhund on the turnpike. Bad form, old man, bad form.
Well t'is now my preemptive stroke, struck at a post for the AM yet to be.
Chuck Pace © 2008
On to the hinterlands in a tennerday.
Jenni asked if I would have her blindfolded the entire way, since I have the very secretive mission to not divulge. I would say only about 6 hours worth of blindfolding will be necessary. However a full on gag all the way to Stopperage Station might well be in order. I can only imagine the peaceful drive through the golden fields of bleet and chlorophylum. No I could never do that to her. I love her and totally fear the retribution, and retaliation. Besides the half of the journey that is the getting there would be unfairly missed. There is also the very real possibility that we may be stopping to p(hoto) more often than we stop to pee. It would look bad to have other travelers seeing the missus gagged and blindfolded in a rent-a-car while I am photographing a mushed blatherhund on the turnpike. Bad form, old man, bad form.
Well t'is now my preemptive stroke, struck at a post for the AM yet to be.
Chuck Pace © 2008
On to the hinterlands in a tennerday.
Parts Falling Apart
03/30/08 02:32 PM | Permalink
Car Part: It is all hurry up and wait. It is all, "On Your Marks, Get Set....." There is no go. Not yet. My anxious nature is not capable of handling this much longer. The BMW parts world has all but abandoned me. The folks in California have been given two chances to send me a list of parts available and prices based on a master list of needs I have faxed to them. They have all my digits, my e-mails and my desires. They have not contacted me as of yet in any way. "They say that patience is a virtue, but I haven't got the time", "Psycho Killer", David Byrne and the Talking Heads, 1977. My other contact person, Bruce C. a recommendation from LeAnne Bailey has not come through for me yet either. I have spoken to him multiple times on the phone and given him my requested parts needs, but as yet he has failed to be available on three occasions when I was able to drive the 45 miles to see him, and he has yet to return one of my calls. I'm starting to think that this may be a "One Sided Love Affair". (Re: Elvis Presley: 1956, side 1 track 4; Written by Bill Campbell, with the musical greats Floyd Cramer, Chet Atkins and Scotty Moore, Shorty Long, Bill Black and D.J.Fontana among others). I contacted Bruce C. at 12:01 this afternoon (one digit after noon, none the less after noon) as yet here at 2:45 he has yet to call back.
Bowling Part: There is just three weeks between me and not bowling anymore I fear. The eight year love/hate relationship with kegling may be nearing a divorce, if not at least a self-restraining order. Jenni and I stopped at the Chatterbox last night hoping to have a run in with the Gary's CC girls and a couple of Betties. Well if they showed up it was after we gave up. After an Hour and a half of being inert, inertia held sway without swaying and we went to Bazbeaux Pizza just a few scant yards from the "Box" (note: the only yards that are near the "Box" are Paved ones, an enterprising youth with his own lawn cutting company would starve to death in the Art & Theatre District). Once inside the pizza emporium we were ushered to the subterranean chambers where we ordered a Hawaiian Pizza for two, and got to hear some of the worlds loud and clueless expound upon the virtues of Mark getting drunk and arrested. Apparently in some diction circles "Oh my God" has replaced "Uh" as the filler of choice, while the brain catches up with the steam of expelled verbiage at a volume level sufficient enough to have every table looking at the one just behind and to the left of mine. The culprit was a twenty something co-ed with eight of her friends (I didn't notice if the others were wearing ear-protection like Rich and I wear when we are in Bristol, or not). To my Great Expectation those little Dickens' left as we did so we got to hear and share in the telling of Mark's arrest twice. To clear the air we headed towards home, and stopped at the All Star Bowl on the East side (only 3.8 miles from the World HQ I might add) just to look around. It is big, 48 non-synthetic lanes, but I don't know if I have the desire to start over in a new house, and I don't want to patronize the Royal Pain Bowlin' Sinners again after my tenure is up at Sport Bowl. I will go for the car give-away tournament since I am registered for that, and will gladly take their Mustang if I am lucky enough to make it to the final round and dinner, but as far as giving them my hard earned entertainment dollars. They get bubkis! I may be rolling my last league ball in three weeks, If I am even in town.
Vacation Part: Well with all this strife in my life I may have to let down myself and my wife. Times and travels, money and misfortune may have me calling to cancel my Mystery Vacation plans for the near & foreseeable future. The death of the Mädchen and the search for a few parts for the Blue Frankenstein in the garage on jack stands have left me motivationally and financially immobilized. My vacation starts on my birthday, April 14th: a day truly blessed with history.
Happened on April 14th: The day the Donner Party departed Springfield Illinois in 1846, the Titanic strikes an iceberg in 1912, the Assassination of Lincoln in 1865, Black Sunday; when 20 Dust Storms laid siege to the great Plains and turned day into night in 1945. Also the day that Don Ho(2007), Burl Ives(1995), Anthony Newley (1999), Pete Farndon of the Pretenders (1983), and Frederic March (1975) died. And still more on April 14th, that day that Rod Steiger, Kenneth Marrs, Erich VonDäniken, Pete Rose (baseball scoundrel), Richard Jenni (comedian, suicide 07), Ritchie Blackmore (Deep Purple), Greg Maddux and "Buffy The Vampier Slayer;"Sarah Michelle Geller (1977) was born.
I am in a sort of stasis, Neither stopping or going, incapable of moving, while around me, I can't stop plans or things from falling apart. I think Jenni and I are going to head out to the parts Farm and see if we can see the Mystery Mr.C, and drop some green for my Blue Frankenstein who was needed to be reborn on the day of my Valentine.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Easterly
03/23/08 09:35 AM | Permalink
Back to Easter: Easter has fallen on my birthday three times since my entry into this earthly realm. 1963, I don't remember this one (being only three at the time). 1968, this one was a bummer, we lived in Swayzee and had all my cousins in from Marion for an egg hunt and a big day partying, it wasn't all about the guy who just turned 8, it was about cousins. I needed to be the center of attention, yet I was almost an afterthought or so it seemed. 1974, what do 8th graders care of Easter? I don't remember this one either.
Oh no!, Jenni just brought out a bag of Robin's Eggs (whoppers in tiny egg shapes) and a plastic egg full of Reese's miniatures. At least there is no chartreuse or magenta plastigrass. I forgive her and hope I don't get a belly ache from eating half the booty as I sit here quibbling and nibbling.
Speaking of birthdays and Easter I know someone else who has had b-days fall on her special "all about me" day too. DeAnne Roth, shared her special day with her family the rest of the world in '78 and '89. I doubt she remembers the first one any more than I did mine. Well I have exhausted my hunt for eggs to drop in your virtual baskets and so I head to the mid-day mark and the garage to look at the Blue Bimmer in from another side (underneath).
Yesterday After Work...
03/20/08 07:23 AM | Permalink
Well it was a quiet evening at Rancho Pooro. All day long my interior and exterior self was in distress. My Whole right side was sore, my back, gluteus area, thigh and knee in particular were making me hobble and unhappy. So yesterday after work we watched two more episodes of Buffy. Then, I hobbles to the World HQ and Techsies, two chapters for the Next Dummies Book. That out of the way I takes a fist full of pain-relievers and floppsies into the horizontal rest-room. This morning I was able to stand up as I got out of the bed. Not being crouched over and forcing the wheels of injury to right my ship of fool was a pleasant surprise. We will see what we shall see as the hours tick away and the meds are burned.
Like I said I am currently tech editing my third book for Wiley Publishing (in the process more accurately, "currently" I'm being absurd and over dramatic for the sake of nonce). I received a copy of the first one I did in my very own Snail-Mail holding receptacle about two weeks ago. Here is the proof that as a reader I can proof read, and make valuable contributions to the world other than my amazing Daughter Meredith (even here I was at best a co-publisher but it was a work most monumental).
You might even go so far as to say that Meredith is my raison d'é•tra, I have no other purpose of accomplishment that I am more proud of.
Chuck Pace © 2008
You might even go so far as to say that Meredith is my raison d'é•tra, I have no other purpose of accomplishment that I am more proud of.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Turkey Fryer
03/19/08 07:12 AM | Permalink
Generalizations. That is what I am about. That is what everybody is about. Or is that just my first of many generalizations this post?
About two months ago a real life Fryer in heavy brown robe with wooden cross and rope belt came into the store to get is ire out out of his element. He was not a happy camper. He did not prostrate himself, or show the good will or love of man that I would have thought he should have projected. He argued, groused and quibbled. After he left I did a drawing of myself as a fryer or monk myself and told Bob that I may have to be one on halloween this year. The tonsure alone is worth the price of admission. But from this chance meeting with the pretentious, pious prick I can say all Fryers are jerks. Generalization number 2.
Yesterday after work...
Remember the best posts start with. Yesterday after work...
I drove Rich's GP to work so I had to drive it and the missus back home before I could fulfill my sublimation substitution as a kegler in the very 10 for 13 beer and pizza league I spoke of in yesterdays riveting and captivating post. Rich and the team failed on the first two occasions to impress upon the tower of power boys that we were the #1 team in that league. In the vernacular of the keglers we lost. Then in defiance and with undaunted optimism we rebounded and took the last game and two whole points. On several occasions I had an opportunity to get three in a row for a turkey. I failed on those occasions last night, even if I were wearing my halloween tonsure and robes I could not have been a Turkey Fryer. I should be flogged.
Before I shaved all of my hair off this time, to promote the well being of spring and warmer weather (a sacrifice to the hair goddess Pa'Ti LaBel) I tonsured myself in a fashion not unlike my caricature of months before.
Chuck Pace © 2008
About two months ago a real life Fryer in heavy brown robe with wooden cross and rope belt came into the store to get is ire out out of his element. He was not a happy camper. He did not prostrate himself, or show the good will or love of man that I would have thought he should have projected. He argued, groused and quibbled. After he left I did a drawing of myself as a fryer or monk myself and told Bob that I may have to be one on halloween this year. The tonsure alone is worth the price of admission. But from this chance meeting with the pretentious, pious prick I can say all Fryers are jerks. Generalization number 2.
Yesterday after work...
I drove Rich's GP to work so I had to drive it and the missus back home before I could fulfill my sublimation substitution as a kegler in the very 10 for 13 beer and pizza league I spoke of in yesterdays riveting and captivating post. Rich and the team failed on the first two occasions to impress upon the tower of power boys that we were the #1 team in that league. In the vernacular of the keglers we lost. Then in defiance and with undaunted optimism we rebounded and took the last game and two whole points. On several occasions I had an opportunity to get three in a row for a turkey. I failed on those occasions last night, even if I were wearing my halloween tonsure and robes I could not have been a Turkey Fryer. I should be flogged.
Before I shaved all of my hair off this time, to promote the well being of spring and warmer weather (a sacrifice to the hair goddess Pa'Ti LaBel) I tonsured myself in a fashion not unlike my caricature of months before.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Starting to Remember the Edges
03/15/08 07:21 AM | Permalink
I didn't post yesterday, even though I could have written a couple of years worth of my mistakes, oops I mean memoirs, while I was not sleeping. I had a hurricanes worth of debris swirling in my conscienceness and had to keep ducking the bigger pieces and even when I would drift towards a safe sleep island another gust would come along and capsize the restorative life preserver from the HMS Soma, and I would again be putting on my braincoat to weather the storms. I got up to wander the house at what I thought was 2 AM, I went back and laid on the couch. I got up again a few minutes to get a bottle of water. That's when I saw the devil in rotation. His hands were pointing. The longer one at the 12 minute tick the shorter at the 4 tock! 4:12 AM' zoikes!
Needless to say a lot of my Friday was a daze. A sleep deprived romp through a reality blurry on the edges. I remember little, but I do know that I didn't look forward to bowling after work. I think the melody was The Fifth dimensions "Last Night I didn't get to sleep at all" but just the opening verse over an over in the elevator music center of my mind.
I drove to the alley without a peep. Not a sound on the radio not a thought in my head after I hung up my phone. I was called as I was leaving the alley, by a coworker who said, "Does Rich know that his left tail-light is half full of water?" See, Rich has loaned me his spare car (the Gran Prix) since I am less "motivated" without wheels of my own. After answering that the tail light aquarium has been a feature of this Gran Prix for a long time I drove on in thoughtless silence.
So, at the alley. My kegling compatriots convened. Will Andrichik doing his best Rich Culy substitution dance, and Ed Craig doing his best anchor, he had the ball but lost the chain and we drifted. We were bowling the missing man formation since Tom Pruitt (arguably our most consistent bowler) was out due to his Mother's passing. We lost all games convincingly. I had a decent series, even though I had the gumby tie after the second effort. Game one 202, two, 129 three a rally of sorts 166 for a 497 for a 165 average well over my 153 mark of consistency. Ed Creaig re-inherits the tie for game one next week.
Oh but oh. Last night I slept. I didn't get to see or sing the fifth dimension or any other songs. Because I slept last night. I nearly got to sing some Mama's and Papa's when a mid nocturne coughing fit brought up some of the evenings repast and only by choking awake did I get to awake at all.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Needless to say a lot of my Friday was a daze. A sleep deprived romp through a reality blurry on the edges. I remember little, but I do know that I didn't look forward to bowling after work. I think the melody was The Fifth dimensions "Last Night I didn't get to sleep at all" but just the opening verse over an over in the elevator music center of my mind.
I drove to the alley without a peep. Not a sound on the radio not a thought in my head after I hung up my phone. I was called as I was leaving the alley, by a coworker who said, "Does Rich know that his left tail-light is half full of water?" See, Rich has loaned me his spare car (the Gran Prix) since I am less "motivated" without wheels of my own. After answering that the tail light aquarium has been a feature of this Gran Prix for a long time I drove on in thoughtless silence.
Oh but oh. Last night I slept. I didn't get to see or sing the fifth dimension or any other songs. Because I slept last night. I nearly got to sing some Mama's and Papa's when a mid nocturne coughing fit brought up some of the evenings repast and only by choking awake did I get to awake at all.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Down In Limbo
03/13/08 07:39 PM | Permalink
I am waiting. Voodoo Warning! I am waiting. We're Waiting??? Waiting for the insurance check. Waiting for a parts price list from California. Waiting for Sunday. Waiting for a chance to start rebuilding our shattered miserable lives. Or at least our cars. Waiting for the End of the World. Stuck like a ant in amber. Like a Sabre-tooth in the tar pits. Like a Moth to a Flame? Oh No. Down, and in LIMBO. I want to tango, but it takes two. It's calling, but I'm waiting....
Limbo, Bryan Ferry/Patrick Leonard, Bette Noir, Bryan Ferry's, 1987
Voodoo warning
Is calling
Down in limbo
Moonlight lush life
Bears strange fruit
Down in limbo
Come with me now
A moth to a flame
You never get near enough
You try again
Closer now
Oh how we dance
The spirit holding usIng a trance
Bamboo dancer
No stranger
Down in limbo
Can you tango?
Takes two to
Down in limbo
You are the one
Now is the time
Let your memory beat the drum
On the street car line
Voodoo warning
Is calling
Down in limbo
Moonlight lush life
Bears strange fruit
Down in limbo
Creole tattoo
I buy you
Down in limbo
Heartbeat you mistreat
I owe you
Down in limbo
Chuck Pace © 2008
Limbo, Bryan Ferry/Patrick Leonard, Bette Noir, Bryan Ferry's, 1987
Is calling
Down in limbo
Moonlight lush life
Bears strange fruit
Down in limbo
Come with me now
A moth to a flame
You never get near enough
You try again
Closer now
Oh how we dance
The spirit holding usIng a trance
Bamboo dancer
No stranger
Down in limbo
Can you tango?
Takes two to
Down in limbo
You are the one
Now is the time
Let your memory beat the drum
On the street car line
Voodoo warning
Is calling
Down in limbo
Moonlight lush life
Bears strange fruit
Down in limbo
Creole tattoo
I buy you
Down in limbo
Heartbeat you mistreat
I owe you
Down in limbo
Today Before Work
03/06/08 07:43 AM | Permalink
Yesterday After Work... the clouds lifted the sun shone and the ice entombed world began its resurrection. That was the physical world. The day itself was sans picnic. Jenni stayed home with a Migraine (she says it was her first in 1 1/2 or 2 years but I remember one last year). I went to work, lunch and home alone just me and my thoughts most dire.
This morning I see Dr. Gray D.P.M. for a follow up foot analysis. Are thee healing bored out pod?
Completely by coincidence as I started the last line my randomized I-Tunes chose "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath as the next song. And as if on cue as I was highlighting the title and artist the import copy which I have not listened to started skipping and failed. Perfection in the form of omen? More coincidence? Just bad luck. Who can say. The next song up "Will You Love Me Tomorrow", Bryan Ferry from the 1993 Album Taxi. I guess I will be deleting The Sabbath.
Back to the foot. Yesterday I noticed some white bits forming inside the Cavern of Karatosis, so I will find out if that is a normal thing for a cauterized area to do. I must know. The soak and dress today are complete. I have a minor throb living inside the affected area; like musak in another room it is not there if the mind is occupied at all, only when I am writing about the port pedestal does the plaintive pound even surface for more than a micro seconds notice, so much better is the feel in the foot from the excised anomaly.
I still may refrain from tomorrows bowling if Dr. Gray has any reservations.
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
Completely by coincidence as I started the last line my randomized I-Tunes chose "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath as the next song. And as if on cue as I was highlighting the title and artist the import copy which I have not listened to started skipping and failed. Perfection in the form of omen? More coincidence? Just bad luck. Who can say. The next song up "Will You Love Me Tomorrow", Bryan Ferry from the 1993 Album Taxi. I guess I will be deleting The Sabbath.
Back to the foot. Yesterday I noticed some white bits forming inside the Cavern of Karatosis, so I will find out if that is a normal thing for a cauterized area to do. I must know. The soak and dress today are complete. I have a minor throb living inside the affected area; like musak in another room it is not there if the mind is occupied at all, only when I am writing about the port pedestal does the plaintive pound even surface for more than a micro seconds notice, so much better is the feel in the foot from the excised anomaly.
I still may refrain from tomorrows bowling if Dr. Gray has any reservations.
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
That's What Friends are For
03/02/08 10:40 AM | Permalink
Yesterday after work, feeling a little down and misting from the loss of my madchen and listing to starboard from the hole in my port rudder, Rich Culy and John David Owen asked me to join them for libations at the Old Point. After a few Smid'icks were drowned in our sorrows we headed up to the Chatterbox for another round of rounds, there we were joined by more mutineers, LeAnne Bailey and Kris Bowman. They too commiserated when I disseminated that I felt eviscerated without my Bimmer around me. At 9:20 we decided to drown more miseries in Bazbeaux bounty.
We walked the masonry, concrete and asphalt plank to the pizza and sandwich island without incident, I had switched to water and diet cola beverages by then and soon dispatched an entire 10" Hawaiian Pizza. Merry was made and conversation was pleasant and humourous. I was glad to not have to think about my losses and limbs for a few hours, just enjoying the company of friends not fiends, and fleeing from failures and faults for a few. But that is what friends are for.
I awoke at 7AM this morning and headed out for breakfast fixings no worse for the wear, thanks to two sodas and a pizza, and the good sense to stop in time. If I had continued I might have been more like the lad in this next set of lyrics.
More winsome words of wisdom from the great Elvis Costello, like I said he has something for every situation
Think I look a little green
I never felt this way before
I think somebody's spiked my drink
and that's what friends are for
Baby will you stick by me
Baby everything's gone a little hazy
Baby if I just lay out on the floor
Go ahead and enjoy yourself
That's what friends are for.
That is some wall.. just watch,
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
...wait for it!!
We walked the masonry, concrete and asphalt plank to the pizza and sandwich island without incident, I had switched to water and diet cola beverages by then and soon dispatched an entire 10" Hawaiian Pizza. Merry was made and conversation was pleasant and humourous. I was glad to not have to think about my losses and limbs for a few hours, just enjoying the company of friends not fiends, and fleeing from failures and faults for a few. But that is what friends are for.
I awoke at 7AM this morning and headed out for breakfast fixings no worse for the wear, thanks to two sodas and a pizza, and the good sense to stop in time. If I had continued I might have been more like the lad in this next set of lyrics.
More winsome words of wisdom from the great Elvis Costello, like I said he has something for every situation
Think I look a little green
I never felt this way before
I think somebody's spiked my drink
and that's what friends are for
Baby will you stick by me
Baby everything's gone a little hazy
Baby if I just lay out on the floor
Go ahead and enjoy yourself
That's what friends are for.
That is some wall.. just watch,
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
...wait for it!!
New Pain, Greater Loss
02/29/08 03:18 PM | Permalink
The Mädchen: her face removed and unceremoniously tossed in the boot.
This morning Jenni called me with even more bad news. The cost of repairing the Mädchen reached a level where the insurance company totaled it. So I am down one porokeratosis and one automobile. Jenni has taken the loss of the car like the loss of any loved one. The phone rang again as I was preparing to dress my wound, it was the auto rental place, Liberty Mutual my insurer is extending up to 10 more days of rental fees, but the plate on the Spectra is expiring at midnight tonight. More bad news. I agree to drive out there and get the new plate and since it is the same place where the Mädchen has gone to die I decide to get the plates and any other personal effects from the carcass. I got a couple of parting shots for the record too. Jenni has already started looking for a replacement Bimmer to fill the void in the garage and in our hearts. I don't need any more bad news to pile on and make my March start like my Bonus extended February ended.
It is not just the bible that has an answer for any problem or issue that life can toss you, so do the lyrics of Mr. Elvis Costello.
Excerpt from "5ive Gears in Reverse", Get Happy, 1980
But if your patience is exhausted
and you still cannot decide,
you're sitting in the garage
contemplating suicide
and you have no motivation
you can't even catch your breath
All of this acceleration
is driving you to death
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
Total Eclipse of the Lunar Variety
02/21/08 12:11 AM | Permalink
Total Eclipse of the Heart (Bonnie Tyler)
Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
Total eclipse of the heart
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart
You don't need to be Bonnie Tyler to know that a grand celestial show took place last evening, you just needed to turn around (and look up) bright eyes. It was damned cold while I was taking these and a few dozen other shots with my Nikon Coolpix P4, but for a point and shoot camera I am most pleased with the results.
Top Floor Art
02/19/08 06:56 AM | Permalink
Through these Portals Thou Art Judged
The Hallways of the Stutz building provide their own artistic ambiance even without embellishment. Two doors down the judges have conviened to weed out the less worthy.
For the second time in three years Jenni and I assisted Pam Walker in selecting 2D and 3D artworks for Project Excel. The Stutz building top floor is the place where the judgments take place, in a room big enough to have been housed an automobile assembly line several hundred pieces of art were stacked, and displayed. The task was less daunting than last time when there was thousands of pieces, and we had the help of Pam Walkers cousin Chad and his friend whom in my early stages of Alzheimer's I can't recall (I could re-name him but that would be a temporary fix eh?). Once again about 15% of the art was amazing, and the top 4 or 5% as good as about anything I've ever seen in professional shows and galleries. I took a few photos but don't know if I should display any of them here until they have gone to final judging and the awards process in mid April. After the Arts Jenni and I went with Pam to Bazbeaux Pizza on Mass ave. Chad and Jeremy (temp fix) went to other jobs, ones that pay in bartering chits, instead of soul enrichment and fine food. We three PJC, saw LeAnne Bailey, with Ericka and Max at the foodery and exchanged hugs and pleasantries, then we got to catch up with Pammy pam pam for a bitty bit. Then it was back to the life more ordinary and home.
Room with a View.
Looking out from the top floor of building C as the sun sets in the West. 10th St. and the Monorail track point to the IUPUI campus as the town goes to sleep, one wonders what sites these window have looked upon in the last century.
Happy VD My Pets
02/14/08 06:47 AM | Permalink
Things are looking up.
Oh, be still my beating Nebulae Happy Valentines Day to you all. May your hearts be filled with blood, and you minds filled with thoughts of hope, happiness and/or romance. May you be blind to the blemishes and imperfections of your loved ones. May your arms be filled with hugs and passionate embraces. Today I have the task, duty or mission to take my dog Charlie to the Ophthalmologist because I fear he is going blind. Two weeks ago I had him into Irvington Pet Center to see Drs. Zeener and Schnarr and they shared my concern and diagnosis, unfortunately Charlie was freaked by the eye exam process, and refused to cooperate, thus the visit to the specialists.
We (Jenni and I) also have to drop off Li'l Darlin' at the shop to get her carburetion adjusted since she does not like to warm idle in the cold cold winter. We do that first, then haul Charlie to the eye doctor. Then its a day together for sharing valentines. Who knows we may do something crazy like house cleaning, shopping, Scrabble or cooking. That is the kind of love-fest you can expect when you are less than 10 months away from your 25th anniversary. That, maybe a new episode of Smallville or more Buffy the Vampire Slayer box sets, it could get pretty steamy in here later. I'm not intentionally being nebulous, I really don't know what is in store for Jenni and I after the early morning tasks.
Well the valentines day festivities and the passion of ageless love are waiting. Have a great day. Sit! Stay!!!
Won't Get Fooled Again
02/11/08 11:35 PM | Permalink
White Death '08 pt.2, Lord Have Mercy on the Survivors (if there are any). Chuck Pace © 2008
I'm looking for a new job. One where I can be almost completely wrong 60% of the time and be looked at a one of the best in my field. One where I can sensationalize the most trivial of changes. I'm not athletic enough to be a major league baseball player pitcher or power hitter, so I'm looking into Meteorology! I want to put the pro back into prognostication, I want to be able to look at a weather module and say the world is about to end. That a hurricane is going to eat up Trinidad and the second ice age is going to be caused by cow farts and termite gas. I want to tell people that less than two inches of snow is really going to rival the blizzard of 1978. I want to be the guy who said two days ago that another 10 inches is expected Tuesday and Wednesday. The same guy who says now that Tuesday is less than 24 minutes away that maybe we will only get one or two inches, and another one to three on Wednesday.
I could hang out with the guys that said that The New England Pitty Pats could absolutely not be beaten, that they and NY would run up a 55 plus point total scoring effort in Glendale AZ, and that Tommy Boy would be anointed the greatest Male of all time, bar none.
The same crowd of prognosticators and pundits that looked the other way with Bela-cheat and the scameras at several opponents teams practice facilities. The people that think it is alright until you get caught. That being a jerk, louse, bully and a poor sportsman is o.k.
if you can run up a string of wins and points. That that kind of character is to be applauded because you can cheat and win, that the win justifies the means.
I might be hanging with the crowd that says good always triumphs over evil, or that cheaters never win. The bunch that doesn't know that Chad Knaus was suspended and penalized in the 2005 season for having an illegal (by Nascar rules) car at the Las Vegas Race, or again for three races after Daytona in 2006 for aerodynamically altering the 48 car, or yet another, a 6 week suspension in the 2007 season for altering the COT. Two consecutive seasons where his driver Jimmie Cry Baby Johnson won the championship.
I guess I'm hoping that we don't get 8 or 10 inches of snow in the next two days, but nobody really knows how it works or what we will get. I didn't get to measure the stripes on the woolly worms in the fall or to see how many silver maple leaves were upside down before the first frost, and I missed Punxsutawney Phil's Nascar, NBA and weather predictions, but I think he is dead on with his presidential pick Ron Paul.
Unexpected Notes
01/22/08 07:01 AM | Permalink
Kienle Machine heads and hand. Chuck Pace ©2008
Last nights scheduled event at the Chatterbox ended in an unscheduled event at the Chatterbox. Being a Holiday Monday there is usually a small crowd, and so no music is scheduled. There was definitely a small crowd. There was definitely music.
With the gu'ment and the schools out, a lot of the business that happens on Monday don't. The smallish crowd I encountered at the Box had some regularity, and lacked a lot of regulars. Nicci was there in an unofficial capacity, Kris Bowman, Patrick Wasson and Christ West were there without getting incapacitated. Mel Shoffner, Rich, David A. and Kay, Jeff and Marylou acted as capacitors of conversation. Rich has a two beer limit as he was driving to Brownsburg to assist Dave Gansert with something, so he missed the eventual event.
Top: Burns on home skillett. Next: Bruker on bass.
Chuck Pace ©2008
I leaned in and said, "What?" Hoping for praise to be steeped in greater verbosity than a one word exclamation of my mastery.
Sure enough soon there was Dave Bruker with an amplifier, followed closely by Paul Berns with clicky-claky things and Peter Kienle with six strings of magic. My hands were retired as DeAnne called David (now at home) and asked if there was music (a now familiar theme)? He said it was o.k. to have music and there was music. I grabbed camera and took a couple of great shots out of 55 snaps. The evening was fine the music like wine.
Oh yes, there was Music.
Chuck Pace © 2008
|
It was all in my head
01/16/08 07:08 AM | Permalink
I dreamt music. I heard music but I didn't dream. I took the music to bed and it kept my lover awake. I took my music to the couch and it and the dog kept me awake. I dozed, and rolled and tangled in the wires that kept the silence at bay. I woke and languished in the sonics that kept the dreams at bay. It was all dreams not black and white. It was all dreams not in multifarious color, it wad dreams recreated and reshaped by Tangerine Dream. It was travel at the speed of light it was, it was gentle and serene, it was motion and emotion, it was concern and terror. It was transport away from all thoughts of the here, it was respite from the actual; and the now. It was four and a half hours of deep immersion into synthesized, computerized, mp3 stream of unconsciencenous, syncopated escape. It was 70 songs out of 107, without a word spoken, it was a favorite artist, it was my night last night. It was time standing still for a spell. It was a spell.
I dreamt music
Arm of a couch,
Breath of a dog,
Cocoon of a quilt,
Presence of damp log,
Glow of an LED
Tail of a cat
Rotations over lasers
Second pillow for a hat.
A Tangerine spell
cast inside my head
the music contained
on a couch for a bed.
I dreamt.
I heard Music.
"I dreamt music"
"I didn't know if I could play. I remember lessons. I don't know if its me or Tyrell's niece."
"You Play beautifully."
Chuck Pace © 2008
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I dreamt music
Arm of a couch,
Breath of a dog,
Cocoon of a quilt,
Presence of damp log,
Glow of an LED
Tail of a cat
Rotations over lasers
Second pillow for a hat.
A Tangerine spell
cast inside my head
the music contained
on a couch for a bed.
I dreamt.
I heard Music.
"I dreamt music"
"I didn't know if I could play. I remember lessons. I don't know if its me or Tyrell's niece."
"You Play beautifully."
Chuck Pace © 2008
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Can't be Wrong.
01/15/08 06:53 AM | Permalink
I stay in bed extra long. I can't move again, this time it's because the covers are warm. This time the eyelids are heavy, this time the pillows and position are just right. I'm in my comfort zone and it is heaven.
She comes out of the bathroom after her shower, after the blow dryer has cooled after I should have already been up. I have a head as vacant as a junkies bank account. Need erased. Need eliminated. Sleep erased. Sleep eliminated. Sleep purged.
Jenni says, "Seventeen right now."
Click! Synaptic switches are tripped and I don't have time to pick them up because I'm off to the race. The vacuum is running and filling up quick. Wake Up Demonstrations! Seventeen can't be wrong. Seven o'clock tick tock , follow me fall on me! I'm up and dressed and Richard Butler is in my head.
Who? You say.
Mr. Psychedelic Furs, Mr. Love Spit Love, Mr. "Isn't she pretty in pink!" Richard Butler with his distinctive voice. I can't get a moments peace until I have it looked up 'til I'm listening to it, 'til I'm putting the lyrics on the post.
Yeah I know it's cold outside, it's 17° outside. I've been told. But inside its Sunshine and youth and rebellion.
"Seventeen", by Love Spit Love written and sung by Richard Butler.
Wake up demonstrations
Said silence is the wrong word
I'm gonna keep the names
That i use for myself to myself
A summer sun is shining
What will it be tomorrow?
I want to watch the world
From the edge of my seat
When it burns
Seventeen can't be wrong
Seventeen cannot see
I can't believe
It's been so long
Seventeen follow me
I want to walk the outside
They're burning down the houses
I'm gonna keep my eyes
On the ground
When i walk where i walk
I can't believe
It's been so long
Can't believe i can't see
Seventeen can't be wrong
Seventeen fall on me
Never stop never mind
Can't get good times
Summer day sunshine
Feels like anodyne
Phone jams gridlock
Standing at the bus stop
Ten'o clock tick-tock
Look at what the world's got
Please her please me
Gonna make a big scene
Here comes faith comes
Banging on a tin drum
Don't try you can't fail
Can't win you can't play
Ten'o clock tick-tock
Look at what the world's got
Sleep, look what you've done to me.
Chuck Pace © 2008
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She comes out of the bathroom after her shower, after the blow dryer has cooled after I should have already been up. I have a head as vacant as a junkies bank account. Need erased. Need eliminated. Sleep erased. Sleep eliminated. Sleep purged.
Jenni says, "Seventeen right now."
Click! Synaptic switches are tripped and I don't have time to pick them up because I'm off to the race. The vacuum is running and filling up quick. Wake Up Demonstrations! Seventeen can't be wrong. Seven o'clock tick tock , follow me fall on me! I'm up and dressed and Richard Butler is in my head.
Who? You say.
Mr. Psychedelic Furs, Mr. Love Spit Love, Mr. "Isn't she pretty in pink!" Richard Butler with his distinctive voice. I can't get a moments peace until I have it looked up 'til I'm listening to it, 'til I'm putting the lyrics on the post.
Yeah I know it's cold outside, it's 17° outside. I've been told. But inside its Sunshine and youth and rebellion.
"Seventeen", by Love Spit Love written and sung by Richard Butler.
Wake up demonstrations
Said silence is the wrong word
I'm gonna keep the names
That i use for myself to myself
A summer sun is shining
What will it be tomorrow?
I want to watch the world
From the edge of my seat
When it burns
Seventeen can't be wrong
Seventeen cannot see
I can't believe
It's been so long
Seventeen follow me
I want to walk the outside
They're burning down the houses
I'm gonna keep my eyes
On the ground
When i walk where i walk
I can't believe
It's been so long
Can't believe i can't see
Seventeen can't be wrong
Seventeen fall on me
Never stop never mind
Can't get good times
Summer day sunshine
Feels like anodyne
Phone jams gridlock
Standing at the bus stop
Ten'o clock tick-tock
Look at what the world's got
Please her please me
Gonna make a big scene
Here comes faith comes
Banging on a tin drum
Don't try you can't fail
Can't win you can't play
Ten'o clock tick-tock
Look at what the world's got
Sleep, look what you've done to me.
Chuck Pace © 2008
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Monday, not so Manic
01/09/08 06:31 AM | Permalink
I'm through the first 4 chapters of my next tech-editing job. I did two last night. I have 4 more on hand to do. This one is the Canon Rebel XTi which I handle everyday at work. I started right in when we got home from work, two chapters two hours total. Observations corrections and suggestions offered. As a reward? Two more episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Nine down lucky 13 to go in season 3, and season 4 waits in the wings.
Yesterdays compu-confunding kept me from enumerating the crowd at the Chatterbox. It was a full house to be sure, the combination of workers returning after extended vacations, the unseasonably warm weather and a whole bucket of nine to five Monday brought about a harmonic convergence of sorts. The first people I saw after crossing from my parking place in front of the Three Dog Bakery were sitting outside. Tom Woody, David Andrichik and Chris West, and like a carnival huckster David was polling each entrant about their willingness to participate in the 10 week Chatterbowling leagues that he is forming. Being found worthy , Jenni and I passed inside and took our places with Mel Shoffner, Mike Wilson and Rich Culy already assembled and awaiting batteries (or brews) to get the ball rolling. Andi Short and Phil Smith were near the end of the bar, book-ended by Matt Theobald and Nicci H. Next were the Beuke's, Monica, Jody Frick, and Andy Krull. Then still at the bar, three guys I didn't know at all, no really it's true, our party across from them at the tables, some early 20's crew a couple tables closer to the door who left just in time to surrender their spots to the ACT crew, Jeff, Jerry, Mary-Lou and Lisa and one other semi-regular Cabaret character I can't re-name for lack of memory.
Looks like I'm a Mac I'm a PC are downloading after a busy day. Chuck Pace © 2008
Kay arrived and joined us and more fellows joined the three wise men I didn't know and stood behind them blocking access to the facilities, Nicci and Andi went outside to enjoy the tempting temperate treasure and the conversation flowed inside like honey in wine. Travis appeared on the patio with Mr. West and Andrichik for the duration of one Miller Lite and then he was done like the Christmas goose. We finished up and made our own way home after a brief detour to fast food just because we both deserved a fresh juicy burger concoction, the the inevitable Slaying session again. The drawing above is of two of the three stranger guys talking to each other while their keystone was attending to a nature call. This was on a bar napkin and is now on the web. Bam!
Bam! Zonk! Splatt! The Super-Hero Museum is now closed! The location? The overwhelming sense of evil? The Customer flow? Yep.
That did it. Golly jeepers, now I'll never get to use my two Comp tickets to get in with Jenni! Drat. Holy closing calamity caped crusaders.
Yesterdays compu-confunding kept me from enumerating the crowd at the Chatterbox. It was a full house to be sure, the combination of workers returning after extended vacations, the unseasonably warm weather and a whole bucket of nine to five Monday brought about a harmonic convergence of sorts. The first people I saw after crossing from my parking place in front of the Three Dog Bakery were sitting outside. Tom Woody, David Andrichik and Chris West, and like a carnival huckster David was polling each entrant about their willingness to participate in the 10 week Chatterbowling leagues that he is forming. Being found worthy , Jenni and I passed inside and took our places with Mel Shoffner, Mike Wilson and Rich Culy already assembled and awaiting batteries (or brews) to get the ball rolling. Andi Short and Phil Smith were near the end of the bar, book-ended by Matt Theobald and Nicci H. Next were the Beuke's, Monica, Jody Frick, and Andy Krull. Then still at the bar, three guys I didn't know at all, no really it's true, our party across from them at the tables, some early 20's crew a couple tables closer to the door who left just in time to surrender their spots to the ACT crew, Jeff, Jerry, Mary-Lou and Lisa and one other semi-regular Cabaret character I can't re-name for lack of memory.
Looks like I'm a Mac I'm a PC are downloading after a busy day. Chuck Pace © 2008
Kay arrived and joined us and more fellows joined the three wise men I didn't know and stood behind them blocking access to the facilities, Nicci and Andi went outside to enjoy the tempting temperate treasure and the conversation flowed inside like honey in wine. Travis appeared on the patio with Mr. West and Andrichik for the duration of one Miller Lite and then he was done like the Christmas goose. We finished up and made our own way home after a brief detour to fast food just because we both deserved a fresh juicy burger concoction, the the inevitable Slaying session again. The drawing above is of two of the three stranger guys talking to each other while their keystone was attending to a nature call. This was on a bar napkin and is now on the web. Bam!
Bam! Zonk! Splatt! The Super-Hero Museum is now closed! The location? The overwhelming sense of evil? The Customer flow? Yep.
That did it. Golly jeepers, now I'll never get to use my two Comp tickets to get in with Jenni! Drat. Holy closing calamity caped crusaders.
Shoveling Out
01/01/08 08:28 AM | Permalink
First Impressions on the first impression. Chuck Pace © 2008
Snow is snowing. Blow is blowing. Sharp cold, white gnats of frozen sting are darting sideways in an air far from arid. The ground, warmer than its blanket remains wet, and seeps up moisture in the foot prints of the heavier of the two of us as we do our rounds of relief. Charlie, my canine companion acts immune to the cold as he douses each clump of hibernating flora with golden elixir. The cold, itself immune to my barriers of clothings, seeks and finds entry points and caresses goose flesh hillocks with flagless hair masts declaring loyalty to no king or country.
We are back inside after the familiar territories are reclaimed, boundaries and markers re-established and a new mound of "earth" rises waiting for the air to cool it, the snow to hide it. Charlie has done his duty to his Master, King and country and awaits with tap-shoe toe nails making cadence on linoleum as I retrieve his reward. "Kneel Sir Canight and take this morsel as a token of your Kings appreciation for your fealty, supplication, and service to the realm of the Trellis-Arbor."
First Impression then.
This time-space marker "2008" is cold and bitter. Still I welcome it as a change from the previous solar rotation and its rewards and challenges. It can not but be better. I await new challenges and surprises.
New day, First Day
Bluss then bluster
Blow away the bitter
Soften the ships, hard.
Bring days of memory
Renew Reshape
Revive
Sting your passionless poisonless sting
Micro moisture missiles
Awaken the sense
Along with the senses
Give me days that give
Not more to just make through
Renew Reshape
Rescue
-Chuck Pace © 2008
I am shoveling out of 2007 regardless of what the weather is or brings.
Chuck Pace©2008
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Driving Home Too Many Points
12/30/07 11:24 AM | Permalink
I have a passion for history. But it is always changing. History that is. I am fond of Covered Bridges and reminders of the industry of people and their triumphs over nature. Remembering a past I have been part of or a past that is far from me are becoming more alike as I get older. In other words I am forgetting some of those small things that made impressions on me outside of the daily routines of my past. By exercising my nostalgia muscle I have been exorcising my fading memory demons.
Yesterday morning I left Jenni sleeping and went to Tire Barn where Mark took care of the tire reintroduction to the Deutsches Mädchen. A two mile longer than necessary drive back home mini-shakedown and I was back with a plan.
Jenni was up, her hair was wet and she was dressed, I knew she had either really exerted herself getting on her sweater or she had taken a shower. I said,
"Where do you want to have breakfast?" "Blueberry Hill," came her response. "It is always so crowded, but I want to try it." I said, "O.K. if its not too crowded, but I have to pack up the computer too, because there are two covered bridges in Carroll County that are waiting to be photographed. She agreed.
I am just full of surprises. I had read about those bridges in a State pamphlet about the Wabash River Corridor and wanted to see them in the wild. Carroll County is just west of Hancock County, and Kokomo.
Vermont Covered Bridge in Highland Park, Kokomo Indiana Chuck Pace © 2007
Jenni and I loaded up and drove to Blueberry Hill as advertised. It was packed, as expected. We sat in the lot and I got out the computer and GPS. We decided to do "The Hill" some other time. I said, "Le Peep is in the strip-mall by the Carmel store, we could do breakfast there on the way north to Kokomo." Again she agreed and we were off like a dirty shirt. With a 15 minute wait for seats at Le Peep it was into the Roberts North store for 10. Food ordered, food arrived. Fed, we had fuel to burn as did the mädchen.
North on SR31. At one five mile stretch we were mirrored in the other lane by our mirror, a black '93 525i with a happy young lad with an oversized accelerator foot behind the wheel. I let him fade off in the North (West would have been more Hollywood but it doesn't always happen like in the movies) and maintained a 60ish cruise on the 60 mph stretch. Soon we were in Stoplight City, the land of Roth, Kokomo. I drive us over to Highland Park and we stopped at the Vermont Covered Bridge for photos and stretchies, Duckies. First objective met, and a surprise to Jenni until I turned off of Washington St. then she properly guessed my enclosed water spanning structure ulterior motivation, she's a clever girl.
That done and done, we headed back north to St. Rd 22 and then west thru Burlington (which would fit inside a Coat Factory super-store) to the Village of Bolivar and the Adams Mill and Adams Mill Bridge (also covered). Before Adams Mill we encountered a Round Barn (the 2nd of the day) and I saw a traffic sign in the ditch that had gone bump bump under a cars bumper. A scant 5 miles from Boliver stands the Lancaster Bridge, itself a stones throw from tiny Owasco on 421. We went north to Delphi, and Jenni found a Rock Shop
to visit and I found a few memories of 1976 as I mentioned above. From there we returned south on 421/39 and were treated to a great photo opp in Rossville, then down to Frankfort and their Courthouse, city center and the very odd Farmers Bank.
By now it is getting a little dark outside and we decide that it's time to head home. So from Frankfort its highway 39 South to 38 West at Antioch where there is only three houses and a Church (where Brother Maynard hid the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch I might add), just south of there was the 3rd round barn of the day. South, Kirkland and 421 again and continuing south thru Waugh and Rosston and finally into Indy and a visit for Jenni to the Fashion Mall and Sephora. Mmmm, she always smells like heaven to me anyway, but I'm glad she's happy. It was a good day. It was so 'Money' and it didn't even know it 'Big Money'. Finally, Good money after bad.
Some History: When I went to college my parents sold the Farm in RR#3 Alexandria in Madison county and moved to Greentown in Hancock county. I didn't grow up in Hancock County. I grew up in Grant and Madison Counties. When I was in High School and living
on the Farm outside Alexandria my mom's little sister Carolyn got herself married. John Vaughn was my Uncle then, and he and Carol lived in Delphi Indiana in Carroll County. John was driving a big cube van delivery truck for for a seed company and I was driving a VW Beetle. On spring break I went to spend a half week in Delphi with John and Carol, and ended up riding with John on deliveries one day. This was two years after tornadoes ravaged Monticello Indiana 15 miles away in nearby White Co. and I got to see first hand the destruction of downtown Monticello. While in Delphi Aunt Carol and I walked
to the town square and across from the courthouse we got a pizza to go and carried it back to the apartment. The next day was the delivery day and John and I talked and drove and unloaded 60 lb... bags of treated seeds at multiple stops. John slipped a disc in his back and I ended up driving the Truck back from Lebanon I t had 10 or 12 forward gears and three low-low gears and was a nightmare to shift, but I never got into the high-high gears or the low-low gears. Each time I started I started in low second gear since the truck was almost empty and I never got in the highest ranges because of speeds under 50 mph. It was dark before we got back. A mile from the depot I pulled off and John drove the last mile in agony (insurance reasons, learners permit, being a minor etc...), then I drove his 72 ford pick-up back into Delphi and to the apartment. I was a nervous wreck, but the next day I had to drive John to Monticello to a Chiropractor, at least it was daylight.
Frankfort Courthouse, Farmers Bank and "Old Stony" City Center
Bring Out the Holy Hand Grenade Brother Maynard
Chuck Pace©2007
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Yesterday morning I left Jenni sleeping and went to Tire Barn where Mark took care of the tire reintroduction to the Deutsches Mädchen. A two mile longer than necessary drive back home mini-shakedown and I was back with a plan.
Jenni was up, her hair was wet and she was dressed, I knew she had either really exerted herself getting on her sweater or she had taken a shower. I said,
I am just full of surprises. I had read about those bridges in a State pamphlet about the Wabash River Corridor and wanted to see them in the wild. Carroll County is just west of Hancock County, and Kokomo.
Vermont Covered Bridge in Highland Park, Kokomo Indiana Chuck Pace © 2007
North on SR31. At one five mile stretch we were mirrored in the other lane by our mirror, a black '93 525i with a happy young lad with an oversized accelerator foot behind the wheel. I let him fade off in the North (West would have been more Hollywood but it doesn't always happen like in the movies) and maintained a 60ish cruise on the 60 mph stretch. Soon we were in Stoplight City, the land of Roth, Kokomo. I drive us over to Highland Park and we stopped at the Vermont Covered Bridge for photos and stretchies, Duckies. First objective met, and a surprise to Jenni until I turned off of Washington St. then she properly guessed my enclosed water spanning structure ulterior motivation, she's a clever girl.
That done and done, we headed back north to St. Rd 22 and then west thru Burlington (which would fit inside a Coat Factory super-store) to the Village of Bolivar and the Adams Mill and Adams Mill Bridge (also covered). Before Adams Mill we encountered a Round Barn (the 2nd of the day) and I saw a traffic sign in the ditch that had gone bump bump under a cars bumper. A scant 5 miles from Boliver stands the Lancaster Bridge, itself a stones throw from tiny Owasco on 421. We went north to Delphi, and Jenni found a Rock Shop
By now it is getting a little dark outside and we decide that it's time to head home. So from Frankfort its highway 39 South to 38 West at Antioch where there is only three houses and a Church (where Brother Maynard hid the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch I might add), just south of there was the 3rd round barn of the day. South, Kirkland and 421 again and continuing south thru Waugh and Rosston and finally into Indy and a visit for Jenni to the Fashion Mall and Sephora. Mmmm, she always smells like heaven to me anyway, but I'm glad she's happy. It was a good day. It was so 'Money' and it didn't even know it 'Big Money'. Finally, Good money after bad.
Some History: When I went to college my parents sold the Farm in RR#3 Alexandria in Madison county and moved to Greentown in Hancock county. I didn't grow up in Hancock County. I grew up in Grant and Madison Counties. When I was in High School and living
to the town square and across from the courthouse we got a pizza to go and carried it back to the apartment. The next day was the delivery day and John and I talked and drove and unloaded 60 lb... bags of treated seeds at multiple stops. John slipped a disc in his back and I ended up driving the Truck back from Lebanon I t had 10 or 12 forward gears and three low-low gears and was a nightmare to shift, but I never got into the high-high gears or the low-low gears. Each time I started I started in low second gear since the truck was almost empty and I never got in the highest ranges because of speeds under 50 mph. It was dark before we got back. A mile from the depot I pulled off and John drove the last mile in agony (insurance reasons, learners permit, being a minor etc...), then I drove his 72 ford pick-up back into Delphi and to the apartment. I was a nervous wreck, but the next day I had to drive John to Monticello to a Chiropractor, at least it was daylight.
Frankfort Courthouse, Farmers Bank and "Old Stony" City Center
Bring Out the Holy Hand Grenade Brother Maynard
Chuck Pace©2007
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About Driving Home too Many Points
12/30/07 10:46 AM | Permalink
What the heck is going on here? I mean it I sat down last night after the day I had had to tell you about the day I had had. Simple, right? Apparently not. I thought I'll watch the game of the millennium and do a post about the day I have had. It turned into a pre-amble, a set up and an explanation of the days that preceded the day that I wanted to talk about, which is now yesterday. Well if you are going to pre-amble you should get to ambling at some point, right? Am I right or am I right, I'm right, right?
I went to bed wishing that the Giants were bigger than the Jerks, but those guy are colossal jerks. Congrats to them anyway. Hopefully they lose in the AFC Championship again to the Colts, that would set the season, nay the world of sports right. Side tracked so easy I was going to say I got up to tell the world about the day I had yesterday and instead went on a retail rant totally out of the blue. I just started to say that Friday was not the greatest day of my life and before you know it 543 words (yes I stopped to count it just now I am a self side-tracking fool). So without further ado. Ado I do I do die do die do, o.k. I go now to the post that would not live!
Chuck Pace©2007
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I went to bed wishing that the Giants were bigger than the Jerks, but those guy are colossal jerks. Congrats to them anyway. Hopefully they lose in the AFC Championship again to the Colts, that would set the season, nay the world of sports right. Side tracked so easy I was going to say I got up to tell the world about the day I had yesterday and instead went on a retail rant totally out of the blue. I just started to say that Friday was not the greatest day of my life and before you know it 543 words (yes I stopped to count it just now I am a self side-tracking fool). So without further ado. Ado I do I do die do die do, o.k. I go now to the post that would not live!
Chuck Pace©2007
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Bad Money, Bad Times
12/29/07 08:30 PM | Permalink
Accept a premise. Time = Money.
If time is indeed money. Then Thursday Night and Friday day were bad money. Thursday was the long day again. After a week and a half of all long days with none off except Christmas day Wednesday was welcome. Wednesday was -back to 5:30- end-time and then there was Thursday and 6:30 again. Jenni rode in with me which is normal. We were both beat at 6:30; that was a long day for me, a tough day for Jenni. The software nightmare new "system" WMDS monster that has taken over the collective corporate (numbed) mind at Well Pointey-Anathema is driving the sane crazy, and the management crazier. We were both toast.
Driving home, Jenni is telling me about the new miracle system. The training was all based on opening a case, there was no training on how to close a case. The job is not done, the customer not taken care of until a resolution is achieved, until a case is closed, maybe that should at least be part of the end goal. So anyway Jenni is telling me that nugget of nonsense when Gremlins (not the AMC kind the Maugwie kind) started beating around inside the right front wheel well and then the underside of the Bimmer with ball-peen hammers. This happened as I was changing lanes with no traffic around me, I was watching the lanes to avoid the bump-bump of the reflective markers and was sure there was nothing in the lane to make the raucous ruckus. Jenni said, "What was that? I didn't see anything in the road." Less than two miles later I knew the tires was losing air, I nursed her off the interstate to a BP station where I put on my spare which was a little sparse on spare air. The pay air-pump at the station was out of service so I drove to the Tire-Barn which I knew was going to be closed. It was. Friday Jenni and I dropped the flat off at the Tire Barn where Ray the Manager showed me where a bolt had come out of the tire, a bolt I must have picked up somewhere else and driven with for a while before it decided to come out as I was changing lanes. I told Ray I would be by first thing Saturday morning to swap out the new tire and refill the spare with Nitro.
Chuck Pace©2007
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If time is indeed money. Then Thursday Night and Friday day were bad money. Thursday was the long day again. After a week and a half of all long days with none off except Christmas day Wednesday was welcome. Wednesday was -back to 5:30- end-time and then there was Thursday and 6:30 again. Jenni rode in with me which is normal. We were both beat at 6:30; that was a long day for me, a tough day for Jenni. The software nightmare new "system" WMDS monster that has taken over the collective corporate (numbed) mind at Well Pointey-Anathema is driving the sane crazy, and the management crazier. We were both toast.
Driving home, Jenni is telling me about the new miracle system. The training was all based on opening a case, there was no training on how to close a case. The job is not done, the customer not taken care of until a resolution is achieved, until a case is closed, maybe that should at least be part of the end goal. So anyway Jenni is telling me that nugget of nonsense when Gremlins (not the AMC kind the Maugwie kind) started beating around inside the right front wheel well and then the underside of the Bimmer with ball-peen hammers. This happened as I was changing lanes with no traffic around me, I was watching the lanes to avoid the bump-bump of the reflective markers and was sure there was nothing in the lane to make the raucous ruckus. Jenni said, "What was that? I didn't see anything in the road." Less than two miles later I knew the tires was losing air, I nursed her off the interstate to a BP station where I put on my spare which was a little sparse on spare air. The pay air-pump at the station was out of service so I drove to the Tire-Barn which I knew was going to be closed. It was. Friday Jenni and I dropped the flat off at the Tire Barn where Ray the Manager showed me where a bolt had come out of the tire, a bolt I must have picked up somewhere else and driven with for a while before it decided to come out as I was changing lanes. I told Ray I would be by first thing Saturday morning to swap out the new tire and refill the spare with Nitro.
Chuck Pace©2007
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Then That Too Was History
12/25/07 10:57 PM | Permalink
The Blurilwind has subsided. The days will start their normal falling too fast again, instead of zooming by in Italian Sports-car fashion of the first three and a half weeks of December, and routine will be reestablished. Before you know it a yet only foreseen (and still inevitable) Spring will be giving way to Summer and we will all be lamenting the passage of time again. Now,
as I have just come from a comforting epsom salts soak in a hot bath to wash away the remains of the day, the holiday and the day long awaited off I can contemplate the days the missing days that led me to rotate faucet clockwise to full on hot in the first place.
Saturday Morning I placed fingers to keys and told of the Bowling and the Gumby Tie. Saturday day I worked for Saturday Night. Saturday I bought (was reimbursed soon for as well) my Christmas present from Jenni to me. A beautiful chuckpace.com turquoise blue 8GB Generation 2 NANO Video iPod. A marvel of technology I might add. So is the iPod. After work I joined Becky Campbell at the Claddagh for a scheduled event/meeting with Miss Jennifer Parker and Marcos Dominguez. Jennifer was running a little behind and Becky and I got to catch up on the small part of our lives that is not directly controlled by work (the part we call 'our lives', in other words). Our waiter was named Jesus (Hey-Suess) and he was very good, and pleasant and patient. Marcos showed, Jennifer showed Becky gave gifts, I gave gifts from me and from Jenni (my Jenni), and a couple of beers were consumed. After the hour or so Jennifer and I went to the mall to get my present(s) for my Jenni. Then it was over, like the Christmas season itself the evening was done like flash powder. Next the sale that almost did not happen. Carson Pirie Scott, fancy ear-rings from Silver Forrest, and a favorite fragrance from Bulgari. I work retail, I know how important it is to be customer friendly regardless of the days toll on the psyche and spirit. So when I found and asked two of the jewelry/fragrance denizens (after I had already picked out a handful of ear offerings) about an old favorite fragrance Halston, which smells great on my true love and was greeted by one who does not know the codec of conduct for customer service, I almost left empty handed.
The culprit a wiry, Afghan-hound haired, bitter, crone of at least 55 spat out at me. "No, you might try CVS or Revco for that." Even after being brushed back from the purchasing plate by this fast-ball of fury I tried to give It a second chance with a little information. "Oh, I bought it here a couple if years ago when this was Parisian." Instead she offered more bile, "WE had to send a lot of stuff back."
I know I looked like I was done. I almost put my ear-rings on the counter and left to shop elsewhere even though Jenni had e-mailed me the Silver Forrest info as a subtle hint. Had Jennifer and marcos not been there I may have been out before you could spell spite in the spittle of the spike haired harpy.
Then it was over, like the Christmas season itself the evening was done like flash powder.
Chuck Pace©2007
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as I have just come from a comforting epsom salts soak in a hot bath to wash away the remains of the day, the holiday and the day long awaited off I can contemplate the days the missing days that led me to rotate faucet clockwise to full on hot in the first place.
Saturday Morning I placed fingers to keys and told of the Bowling and the Gumby Tie. Saturday day I worked for Saturday Night. Saturday I bought (was reimbursed soon for as well) my Christmas present from Jenni to me. A beautiful chuckpace.com turquoise blue 8GB Generation 2 NANO Video iPod. A marvel of technology I might add. So is the iPod. After work I joined Becky Campbell at the Claddagh for a scheduled event/meeting with Miss Jennifer Parker and Marcos Dominguez. Jennifer was running a little behind and Becky and I got to catch up on the small part of our lives that is not directly controlled by work (the part we call 'our lives', in other words). Our waiter was named Jesus (Hey-Suess) and he was very good, and pleasant and patient. Marcos showed, Jennifer showed Becky gave gifts, I gave gifts from me and from Jenni (my Jenni), and a couple of beers were consumed. After the hour or so Jennifer and I went to the mall to get my present(s) for my Jenni. Then it was over, like the Christmas season itself the evening was done like flash powder. Next the sale that almost did not happen. Carson Pirie Scott, fancy ear-rings from Silver Forrest, and a favorite fragrance from Bulgari. I work retail, I know how important it is to be customer friendly regardless of the days toll on the psyche and spirit. So when I found and asked two of the jewelry/fragrance denizens (after I had already picked out a handful of ear offerings) about an old favorite fragrance Halston, which smells great on my true love and was greeted by one who does not know the codec of conduct for customer service, I almost left empty handed.
The culprit a wiry, Afghan-hound haired, bitter, crone of at least 55 spat out at me. "No, you might try CVS or Revco for that." Even after being brushed back from the purchasing plate by this fast-ball of fury I tried to give It a second chance with a little information. "Oh, I bought it here a couple if years ago when this was Parisian." Instead she offered more bile, "WE had to send a lot of stuff back."
I know I looked like I was done. I almost put my ear-rings on the counter and left to shop elsewhere even though Jenni had e-mailed me the Silver Forrest info as a subtle hint. Had Jennifer and marcos not been there I may have been out before you could spell spite in the spittle of the spike haired harpy.
Then it was over, like the Christmas season itself the evening was done like flash powder.
Chuck Pace©2007
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Golden fünf Ringe
12/19/07 10:01 PM | Permalink
You better watch out you better not cry, Barry White is coming to work. The sing-a-long is always a hoot and a holler or two. For about the 8th year in a row the Roberts Camera crew has had the 5 Golden Ringer reservation. For the first time Dorothy and Will were in the crew. Sadly and not for the first time I came in with the burgeoning of a sore throat. By the end of the nights wassailing I was a vocal coaches nightmare. Harvey Firestien meets Lurch. You Rang, mmmmmmmm? You, Sang? oohhhh. The sing along brings together all the different crowds that gravitate to the Chatterbox at different times of the week and night. Many of the regulars are vaguely familiar with each other on the overlap of each groups dynamic, but on the Wednesday before Christmas day all join together in voice and make joyous music to raise the tin roof. Once again the Edith Bunker singers got in on "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus," that one and a baritone belting of Five Golden Rings (Cinco anillos de oro) saw to it that I am hoarse and coarse and for the next few days. Still I would not miss it for all the falsetto in the world. This is a night of hugs and warm smiles and lots of laughs too. When everybody drops their preconceptions (which makes the already crowded aisle a bear to traverse) and just has real fun.
Todays picture is from Mondays party at Kays. I got there and had no primary memory card (the one I had room on was in the Mobile Command Center mainframe at the World Headquarters) so for the first hour at Kay's people came and went and I had to remember it all on the grey matter instead of the micro shipped storage device. Finally not long before we were to head home I checked my small back-up memory cards and erased one that I had downloaded most of to the computer already. This is Erika and Leanne at their absolute cutest. This is the only photo I took at Kays. I took about 6 shots at the Sing-A-Long but have not the time or energy to process them this morning.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD WEEK!
Chuck Pace©2007
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HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD WEEK!
Chuck Pace©2007
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Brain, Freeze
12/16/07 10:22 AM | Permalink
Wednesday. Something is Wrong: Early in the morning, around 4 AM I awake with a pain in the brain. In the Cerebellum and Primary visual cortex the savages of Migrainia were at war. I got up a stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water and some of the pills I have been prescribed when such skirmishes arise. I went back to bed only to get up groggy and still suffering at 6:40. I took two extra strength pain relievers and prepared to head out to work, thinking that in a couple of hours I could take another Midrin if need be. Need Did be, and then some. Nausea sat in as the Prefrontal Cortex got into the act. Vision blurred words slurred and an early exit occurred. I was home by 11:15, and agonized in the bedroom waiting for quiet, dark and peace. An eye pillow provided the dark, the balance never occurred and I fell in and out of fitful repose. The hypersensitivity of all my nerves made the bed feel like it was covered in glass dust.
Jenni came home and brought Rally's Fish sandwiches. My body and my hunger took neutral corners and the bout began. Then the new Harry Potter Movie went into the DVD player and we "watched" it . I had trouble getting the oculars to organize images on the macula and retinal surfaces and it took all my good humor (vitreous and otherwise) to make heads and tails of the tale. Having read all the books I can say that I was not lost, but I still will replay the DVD when I have time for a better reckoning with the images to the minds eye. Had Hermione been available she may have uttered "Oculas Repairo," but no, my woes were not due to broken glasses but instead broken brain. After moving pictures were phosphors slowly fading from the persistence of vision I again retired to the silicated surfaces of sleep to fight my way onto a morning. I knew immediately upon waking on the first alarm that there would be no way I could leave the confines of agony or address.
Thursday did not take place. I can't prove it but I'm sure it was no more than two hours long at best. Charlie woke me at 10 something with a dookie-pee pee ballet-tap improvisation number, I struggled on loose shoes and hoodie over sleep pants and tee and took the hound to his business spots. He read and left canine-p-mail, dropped a load of relief off at the base of a evergreen, and we came back in. I saw to it that there was food in animal dishes, and went back to the crypt and eye pillow. 6 something, Jenni is home and asks if I had the good sense to eat. I have no sense that is not enraged. She provided Wendy's shortly after waking me again to say that there is one of each for us. My one of each was a double w/cheese, a collection of slender potato planks and a cylinder of Sprite with straw (So was hers). I watched Smallville, then soaked in a tub of salinated hot water before returning to bed.
Friday: Not Working, not an option. More Midrin and pain killers, situation little improved, vision back to nominal and work on the horizon. I went to work, mostly because I had to, there I made a difference in the lives of camera cravers, fueled jets with ink for picturing a better world, and lest we forget sold memory for the express purpose of enriching memories. The meds were making inroads and I was merely in agony (no longer suicidal) when the day ended at the camera ranch. I went to the bowling alley to make a decision. I paid for my place to be vacant, and ordered a shot of Jägermeister (Deanne's migraine modifier) and a small coke back. I did the body shiggles* all the way to the car and drove home.
Sunday, Sunday Snowday: The store is open, and I work next Sunday but today I am my own man and my old self (even my chest hairs say I'm an old myself), and there is football and e-mails and mail to send tomorrow, and football and, and Bowling, but I think Jenni and I are just there for the banquet, not knock over things with orbs fitted with finger openings. If I'm wrong then we will (one or the other of us) knock down more than dietary supplements.
Above, the mailbox this AM before the plow-hands push all of the streets solidified precip right in front of it. Joy!
Chuck Pace©2007
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*Shiggle: (shig-el), 1. v. (eng). involuntary shaking of the entire body resulting from the sampling of a foul tasting substance. 2. a word made up by my daughter Meredith when she had to take cough medicine at the age of about three.
"Uck, I don't like it Daddy it gives me the shiggles!
Day-Oh, Where be Thy Sun-Oh?
12/09/07 07:38 AM | Permalink
Happy Anniversary to Jenni and me. I don't have the modern gift-o-log for each anniversary, but I did look at the one at the store a few weeks ago preparing for this milestone event. I think the 24th anniv. is the paper cut and lemon juice anniversary. We may have to substitute lime juice instead. I was up before the sun on a grey foggy Sunday, am I tempting fate? Should I have waited? What if there is no sun today will it be sunday or not?
The world outside the World HQ at 6:52, I walked Charlie and got gloomed.
I used the W word above, I will digress. We've gone to our 5:30 Saturday hours now, and that extra hour makes that last bit of business before a truncated weekend seem much longer. The retail surge has been great, the traffic and the sales have made the days scream by since Thanksgiving. The season is already a blur with a couple of bowling outings in the midst to show time passages other than driving to and from the grist-and -gifts mill. I have to get to a post office and get some stamps to mail out my gobs-o-cheer-o-grams. I got my first holiday card two days ago, it was from Charlie, Vicky and Emma. It was nice to get snail mail with a real photo in a computer "read-only" society. I think I need to do that this year. That may be the only present some of my relatives get. So I must.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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11° Of Seperation
12/06/07 05:03 PM | Permalink
When Jenni left for work it was 11° outside. It was much nicer under the covers. I have this day off from work, this very cold day. This is good because I have a lot stuff I want to get done today, well what's left of it. I stayed up late last night, long after Jenni, who doesn't have the day off, went to bed. We watched the last three (until next year) episodes of Life. Then we watched the last two episodes of Reaper after we found out that the last new Life wasn't on until 10:00, Jenni was already drifting and nodding a little at the end of Reaper, but managed to stay awake through Life. Never let it be said that Jenni slept through an entire life!
Meanwhile... Meredith down in Stuart Florida, where it is currently 73° has been having a couple of rough days, wisdom teeth. She had two removed today, and was supposed to work this evening. I feel for her. She didn't work, since she had one tooth removed on each side and is not able to talk, something important for a sales associate, don't cha think?
I wasted much of this day. I intended to get up fairly early and do the post here, take some snow photos, and wash clothes. I ended up sleeping until a little after 11:00. I did get a few shots of the bright white cold blanket. I didn't wash clothes because I decided to make coffee, and Green-bean Casserole for my beloved when she came home. She had an early Doctors appointment herself. I figured to be done by 2:30 PM would be about right, my mistake. She didn't even see the doctor until after 2:30 and got home just after 5:00.
Now it's 5:38 and Captain Distraction is back to the post that will not die. When I started this issue, or episode or entry if you will (you will, oh, yes you will, you have no choice) I had nothing in mind for the direction of it, (Obviously) other than the clever 11° title which should make you all very happy. If I had made myself bacon (and I could have) for breakfast I would have made a cheesy Kevin Bacon 6° thing too. During my many distractions I thought more than once that I needed to get in and finish the post, that led to a ...Meanwhile Back at the World Headquarters thought, and that grew legs as they say in writer parlance. So I had to do some photos for that, and I had to figure out how to make them comic book looking, so I did that, that all took more time than the casserole took to bake, but such is an unorganized day off kind of experience, so even the interruptions had their interruptions.
I also thought about how to best plan for Jenni's surprise vacation experience coming spring shortly after my 48th birthday. I have a great destination in mind, and I think she has no clue about the place I plan on taking her. Here is her first clue, which, as vague as it is, is still a starting point.
Mystery Vacation Clue #1: This destination is a place that neither of us have ever spoken about (more available at the links).
This will be a Camera intensive voyage too. (Hey wait that's another clue.)
I thought I was going to start building an itinerary, and investigating places to stop and stay, eat, etc on the journey which will not take Interstate Highways where they can be avoided. But the interruptions that interrupted the well planned out directionless drift of my day must have seen me coming and now I'm left with, well all that to do before spring. I have time.
Tomorrow is First Friday. Get out and visit as many of the Galleries and artists shows as you can. It's called Culture and we need to show the world that we have and get it. Flux and The Domont Galleries will be hosting multiple artist shows with affordable pieces for sale to an art starved community. Maybe I'll see you at both, maybe you will be picking out something personal as a gift for a loved one? Something not available at Super-Plastic Discount Universe at any price.
Chuck Pace
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Meanwhile... Meredith down in Stuart Florida, where it is currently 73° has been having a couple of rough days, wisdom teeth. She had two removed today, and was supposed to work this evening. I feel for her. She didn't work, since she had one tooth removed on each side and is not able to talk, something important for a sales associate, don't cha think?
I wasted much of this day. I intended to get up fairly early and do the post here, take some snow photos, and wash clothes. I ended up sleeping until a little after 11:00. I did get a few shots of the bright white cold blanket. I didn't wash clothes because I decided to make coffee, and Green-bean Casserole for my beloved when she came home. She had an early Doctors appointment herself. I figured to be done by 2:30 PM would be about right, my mistake. She didn't even see the doctor until after 2:30 and got home just after 5:00.
I also thought about how to best plan for Jenni's surprise vacation experience coming spring shortly after my 48th birthday. I have a great destination in mind, and I think she has no clue about the place I plan on taking her. Here is her first clue, which, as vague as it is, is still a starting point.
Mystery Vacation Clue #1: This destination is a place that neither of us have ever spoken about (more available at the links).
This will be a Camera intensive voyage too. (Hey wait that's another clue.)
I thought I was going to start building an itinerary, and investigating places to stop and stay, eat, etc on the journey which will not take Interstate Highways where they can be avoided. But the interruptions that interrupted the well planned out directionless drift of my day must have seen me coming and now I'm left with, well all that to do before spring. I have time.
Tomorrow is First Friday. Get out and visit as many of the Galleries and artists shows as you can. It's called Culture and we need to show the world that we have and get it. Flux and The Domont Galleries will be hosting multiple artist shows with affordable pieces for sale to an art starved community. Maybe I'll see you at both, maybe you will be picking out something personal as a gift for a loved one? Something not available at Super-Plastic Discount Universe at any price.
Chuck Pace
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With a Kiss of... A Dream
12/04/07 07:07 AM | Permalink
Work away today, think about tomorrow
Never comes the day for my love and me ...
Justin Hayward, "Never Comes the Day,"
The Moody Blues, On the Threshold of a Dream, released April 2 1969.
The selling season is upon us. Sort of sounds ominous to me: like the killing season, the hunting season, the trapping season. Its none of those things really but its a part of all of those things too. To far to many people giving has become more a sport than a expression of love or caring. It is a part of life, it has been this way since I can remember. It will be this way after I am no longer remembered at all.
You know how some things are there, and have always been there and you don't really think much about how the got there or where they came from? That is a kind of faith I guess. Not in any religious sense but in an acceptance sense. Which I guess is the basis of much in religion too. The first religions were based on the physical world, and an attempt to understand them, that is why the sun was (and is) worshipped. Why it was believed the moon brought mystery, music and love and so was also worshipped. Mighty rivers, biggest trees, mountains, you name it. To the observer these were there at the beginning, they were timeless, were not susceptible to human weakness or frailty. These were the eternals. These were gods. Then came the grapes, and the barleys, the fermenters, and they were then new gods, for they brought release and new candor and feelings of euphoria.
I lost what-ever track I was tracing in my head above to something akin to sleep, something nearing but not reaching rest. I started that last night before another hapless night of tortured half-sleep. In it I half remembered an Edgar Allan Poe dream, er I should say poem. A short one not so hard to remember, but I had read it and memorized it when I was 11, when I could sleep to dream and awake to a day of renewed optimism and promise. When no avenue was yet closed to me and no dream to foolish or unobtainable. I checked when I got up, I remembered the second and final stanza almost accurately. I found after waking from my dreams that my best sleep was between the first and second alarms, that was the period, that 9 minute reluctance to wake is when I dreamed my own dream within a dream.
| | Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep- while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream? |
Chuck Pace
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Game Day Decision
12/03/07 06:43 AM | Permalink
So, the Colts play the Sunday Night Game next week. I didn't find out that that game was Flexed to the evening game until midway through the Steelers/Bengals game. Colts at Ravens. The city that hates us because an owner they hated took his losing team to greener pastures in 1984. Those were rough years for us and I suppose rougher for them. It would probably be like losing your favored arm for a while. But they got the Browns from Cleveland, (how must have Cleveland felt?) arm re-attached for them. They changed the name of the Browns to the Ravens and said we are not that team. We changed cities, and when Rohn Stark kicked his last Indy punt we were no longer that old Baltimore team either. Both Mike Wilson and I have offered (threatened) to send Mikes CB (no not cornerback) buddy Mickey McGowan a Colts Championship hat but he says he'd be lynched if he wore it in public. Mickey came from the Browns area and now resides in the Ravens domain, maybe he needs a Cleveland hat. Speaking of lynching, David Garrard is no longer the only pro Football "primary" starter without a pick. Antoine Bethea saw to that in the second half of yesterdays contest, and added a thirty yard scamper after the pick for emphasis.
There were other games played yesterday though. Rich and I bowled 6 games yesterday. Mel Shoffner and Will Andrichik did 5 each. There was the Chatterbowl Tournament of Champions bowl to the death, extravaganza, o.k. I exaggerate a little (I thought I'd try that I haven't exaggerated for a billion years so, so what the hay?). Travis started out as the man to beat, then Will beat him. Well I started talking smack so I had to beat them both in the first game, in fact I beat all contenders. Second Game? Sure why not I thrashed them again, though a guy named Ty made a great showing. Third game? A few notables retired rather than face me again, Mel and Will, Honkey Tonk Judy, LeAnne Bailey and a couple of others, Dorothy Andrichik was there for Moral support (and to comfort her Mama's boy) but rolled nary one ball. That final game came down to Chris West and (Mama's Boy) David Andrichik our host and regular league bowler to boot. I came in third, still well ahead of Travis and I think Kris Bowman rounded out the top five. Thus ended the extracurricular bowling for The Chatterbowlers. It was off to Kay's Kitchen for victuals and fellowship, friendship and fluff dessert. Mauveen and Eric, Chris, Kris, Leanne, Travis, Mave, Ty and Judy chose to go separate ways leaving more than enough for the rest of us too devour from Kays cuisine.
Food sitting happily in our gullets, Rich, Will, Mel and I ventured back into the fray unafraid. We were frazzled if not frayed, and lost all games. Mel had one game well over her average, I had all three over mine and improved each game; 150, 154, 164, but Will and Rich struggled. Add to that the fact that the other teams lead-off bowler had a career first game well over 60 pins over her average, and their third man (Nicholas) could have his own theme for miracle pot-luck strikes. At one point Rich said Nicholas could throw a wet sponge down there and get a strike, and he was right. Nicholas may have had his own theme, (but I doubt it was Anton Karas' Third Man Theme) since he bowled with his I-pod and earbuds in all night.
Anton Karas was a Zither player (auto-harp) and was not known for scoring films prior to being asked to score the Orson Wells film in 1950. The Third Man Theme made it to #1 on the US charts, and was the first Austrian composition ever to do so. See you learned something other than bowling .
My Fun here is done, I have to go to work.
Chuck Pace
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Food sitting happily in our gullets, Rich, Will, Mel and I ventured back into the fray unafraid. We were frazzled if not frayed, and lost all games. Mel had one game well over her average, I had all three over mine and improved each game; 150, 154, 164, but Will and Rich struggled. Add to that the fact that the other teams lead-off bowler had a career first game well over 60 pins over her average, and their third man (Nicholas) could have his own theme for miracle pot-luck strikes. At one point Rich said Nicholas could throw a wet sponge down there and get a strike, and he was right. Nicholas may have had his own theme, (but I doubt it was Anton Karas' Third Man Theme) since he bowled with his I-pod and earbuds in all night.
My Fun here is done, I have to go to work.
Chuck Pace
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Crisis, Games and Obligations
12/02/07 11:24 AM | Permalink
Yesterday, the final day of the Expo sale. Reps from all the major companies. Customers, sales, busy busy busy. The retail day ended at 4:30 the trip home took 24 minutes door to door. The exhaustion took three and a half hours to beat. I came home, walked the dog, then walked my sorry pathetic butt to bed. Like always I tossed and turned off the shadows of the day eventually falling into a restless sleep, I awoke at least a dozen times in the three hour ordeal to deal. Somewhere in those three hours I must have gotten about an hours worth of respite. I woke-up at 8PM and started surfing channels with no real desire to watch or even be awake, so I dallied a bit getting from one end of the offerings to the other, eventually I headed back down the numbers until I reached TNT TV again and started watching The Borne Supremacy from about a third in I guess. Jenni came in with about 15 minutes to go and I told her what it was, and she went back out to see if it was on HD, not only was it but it was also being repeated at 10:00, so we DVR's it and I will get to see the missing pieces in wide screen HD when I get the time. Then it was back to tossing and turning my way through to morning. My plan was to get up early and make breakfast for the two of us. Well early went with the first alarm, fairly early saw the back side of the second alarm and the sheets continued to see the backside of me. Finally Jenni, who had gotten up after my 6:36 fairly early alarm came back in feeling not at all well and climbed into bed again saying she was freezing. Before she zonked out she said, Weren't you going to make omelets? Why yes, yes I was.
So I got up, headed to the kitchen. Straightened and made a place for my cookery mess. I then made coffee, and sausage, onion and green pepper omelets, orange and cranberry juice (which tastes like grapefruit without the sting) and garlic potatoes with the leftover omelet sauteed onion and green peppers and extra creamy butter, yum. An Eckrich Italian sausage link cut into half inch wafers and browned completed the mornings exercise. With the table set I set to unsettle the sleeping giant and get her into the flow again. As she stirred I put on Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique, Op.14 for ambient digestion and happy company BGM.
She ate, and so did Charlie, still feeling a bit under the weather she finished most of her breakfast fare and then handed off leftovers to der pooch. Seeing that she was not improving I asked if she was bowing out of the Chatterbowling exercises, she replied in the affirmative and asked that I medicate her from the cupboards apothecary staples.
Swallowing staples being the last thing I thought she needed I offered some Advils instead. She accepted. Then I took off the classical music and put on some China Crisis (one of her favorites, even if YOU have never heard of them)!
China Crisis Albums from the Pace library.
Now time funnels down to the point where soon I have to go and defend the family name in a challenge of kegling daring do. I shall not leave the arena empty handed. Perhaps you should go to the Amazon link there on the left and type in China Crisis, you can even download individual songs for .89 each straight from the Amazon website now. So if you don't want to buy the whole shooting match you can still get hooked. Hey while you are there you can donate to my beer fund, the Pay-pal link is fixed.
Individual song recommendations. #1 Choice, "Working With Fire and Steel", then "Wishful Thinking," "Papua", and "Here Comes a Raincloud" from Working With Fire and Steel. "It's Everything", "Arizona Sky" and "June Bride" from What Price Paradise. "The World Spins, I'm Part of It", "Black Manray" and "Bigger The Punch I'm Feeling" from Flaunt the Imperfection.
My Work here is done, the game is on and I have to get ready to bowl.
Chuck Pace
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So I got up, headed to the kitchen. Straightened and made a place for my cookery mess. I then made coffee, and sausage, onion and green pepper omelets, orange and cranberry juice (which tastes like grapefruit without the sting) and garlic potatoes with the leftover omelet sauteed onion and green peppers and extra creamy butter, yum. An Eckrich Italian sausage link cut into half inch wafers and browned completed the mornings exercise. With the table set I set to unsettle the sleeping giant and get her into the flow again. As she stirred I put on Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique, Op.14 for ambient digestion and happy company BGM.
She ate, and so did Charlie, still feeling a bit under the weather she finished most of her breakfast fare and then handed off leftovers to der pooch. Seeing that she was not improving I asked if she was bowing out of the Chatterbowling exercises, she replied in the affirmative and asked that I medicate her from the cupboards apothecary staples.
Swallowing staples being the last thing I thought she needed I offered some Advils instead. She accepted. Then I took off the classical music and put on some China Crisis (one of her favorites, even if YOU have never heard of them)!
China Crisis Albums from the Pace library.
Now time funnels down to the point where soon I have to go and defend the family name in a challenge of kegling daring do. I shall not leave the arena empty handed. Perhaps you should go to the Amazon link there on the left and type in China Crisis, you can even download individual songs for .89 each straight from the Amazon website now. So if you don't want to buy the whole shooting match you can still get hooked. Hey while you are there you can donate to my beer fund, the Pay-pal link is fixed.
Individual song recommendations. #1 Choice, "Working With Fire and Steel", then "Wishful Thinking," "Papua", and "Here Comes a Raincloud" from Working With Fire and Steel. "It's Everything", "Arizona Sky" and "June Bride" from What Price Paradise. "The World Spins, I'm Part of It", "Black Manray" and "Bigger The Punch I'm Feeling" from Flaunt the Imperfection.
My Work here is done, the game is on and I have to get ready to bowl.
Chuck Pace
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Sight, Sound, Smell, Taste I'm feeling it.
11/30/07 12:40 AM | Permalink
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.
I'll play just what I feel
Drink
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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More about Traversing Bodies of Water
11/09/07 07:04 AM | Permalink
A Much Needed Day
11/09/07 01:06 AM | Permalink
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.
Ghost in the Machines, Empty Service Station In Summitville., Chuck Pace ©2007
"Barn Fresh" Corvairs on the way to Fairmount. Chuck Pace ©2007
The Tipton County Courthouse, Tipton IN. Chuck Pace ©2007
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Dis)Appointment With Destiny
11/05/07 06:57 AM | Permalink
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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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,
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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Finally Some Good News
10/31/07 07:19 PM | Permalink
The field East of the Swafford Chapel drive. Chuck Pace © 2007
Wedding Day. Just as we arrived, the reason for the day, the day of reason arrived.
Back at Hiawatha Manor Condos I was waking up like a regular work day. My biological clock programmed to get me to work on time would definitely get me to the Church on time. Jenni and I had twin beds, she fell asleep quickly in hers the night before. I was too wound up, tossed and turned until my clock-spring insides wound down and eventually I gave way to sleep. Too soon I was up again, I awoke at 7:20 EDT and went upstairs and out onto the deck with the laptop, where I wrote. I watched resort golfers, and eventually decided I would have resort to getting coffee, half and half and breakfast treats. I knew the way to the Wal-Marks from the previous evenings frustration exploration.
I wasted an hour showering, shaving and cleaning up and then went back into the bedroom, where I accidentally woke Jenni. Apprised of my morning plan she wanted to go too. This usually means I would have time to go and come back before she is ready. So I sat and read for a few minutes in the BMW 5 series brochure I had acquired on Friday while I was waiting for my minor services to become a major headache.
Jenni was ready in just a few minutes, a Major Mason Family Miracle, and we were off to Wally world for Folger's gourmet decaf, half and half, splenda, orange juice and baked breakfast treats. On the drive to the wedding Peggy told us that they had offered to get a condo for John too, so that he could ride with the family to the wedding, she said his response was, "There is NO WAY I am going to rely on anyone in this family to get me to MY wedding on time. Thus the Major Miracle, I rest my case your honor.
Maggie the oldest younger sister was planted at the piano playing uplifting and romantic tunes waiting for the cue to start the official music. The brother in law of the bride, Patrick Sweeney made a very humorous announcement to all in attendance that Minister Russell Cook (a resident of Knoxville) was lost. Maggie had to reach into her musical bag of tricks and books and vamp for 15 minutes while keeping the theme pure and romantic until the Minister arrived. The ceremony was brief, and Jennifer Yeager became Jennifer Mason the second (since I snagged the original almost 24 years earlier). Once again Mr. Sweeney made his way to the dais in front of the pulpit to give directions to the Yeager house for the reception and festivities, upon completion he turned to Pastor Cook and said "You can follow me."
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Some of the strange grave barrows that dot Sequatchie Valley, there were five or six of this style markers in this small cemetery.
Looking East at the back of the Chapel, with more of the strange Barrow style grave markers, was there a lady in red by the church, or was it just a halloween thing?
Southern Comfort (Pt. 3), Baby You Can Drive My Car
10/31/07 01:17 AM | Permalink
I was sitting in the leather recliner thinking what were the chances of us making it to Tennessee in the truck, Jenni was calling D&R and asking to talk to Mike. Then she called Auto-Zone, Advantage Auto-parts, Advance Auto-parts and O'Reilly Auto Parts trying to find an in-tank BMW fuel pump. The prices ranged from $230.00 to $120.00. Availability of two to three days at some to 10 am Saturday at O'Reilly, who also had the lowest price. Then Jenni had another idea and surfed the web and called some Car rental places and found us the last car on the east side for rental, at least at Budget. The time was 5:35 and they closed at 6:00, so we jumped in the truck and headed west and arrived with 10 minutes to spare, the usual questions were asked, the contract printed and the keys to a cream colored 2008 Chrysler 300 Touring were handed over.
Back home I reloaded all the travel minutia in the trunk, which has a glow in the dark emergency release handle for that pesky mob hit who just won't die. The snacks and drinks were placed inside the cavernous interior, the doggie condo was re-make-shifted and we were out of the house at 6:37. I drove and we listened to Sirius Satellite radio. Jenni navigated with the blessing of Google maps which took us to Crossville Tennessee. We didn't know where we would be staying address wise, and we didn't know the name of the place either.
When we were about 60 miles out Jenni's family started calling her cell to ask where we were. With our google instructions we made it to Crossville without one single miss turn or step. Then the fun started. The directions from Maggie from I-40 exit 322 included such cartographers dream phrases as "drive a bit" and "take the first turn that has a sign for Lake Tansi" and "Look for Dunbar Rd" other key features that were on a 10 x 12 inch map of the entire town and surrounding area were street names that didn't appear on the streets, and no distance scale on the maps legend. Did I mention that we didn't have the map, Maggie did.
We found a Dunbar Lane which dead ended in about a block. We found 392. We were told to take 392 to Lantanna Rd (which as it turns out is highway 101) which is not labeled as Lantanna Rd so we went right through town to the downtown corridor of Crossville. We eventually ended up at the Wal-Mart where they conveniently were out of detailed Crossville maps, they had no Tennessee Maps either. Another call, this time from Bill who said that Lantanna is 101. I remembered a 101 so we backtracked until we found 101 and headed SW on that now looking at every cross street in the dark for Dunbar Rd. and/or the first sign that said Lake Tansi, no one knew the distances and I was forbade to ask . We found the Lake Tansi sign at highway 282 and were instructed that it would be the 4th or 5th right after taking the road with the sign, we went about a mile and a half and studied every right turn like we had for the Dunbar Rd signage which we never found. Eventually we returned to where we turned off, Jenni was talking to Bill yet again who thought we had gone too far, and I again tried to ask a simple question and immediately silenced. I got out of the car to cool off and wandered around the parking area of the Fairyland Dairy store.
There was a police officer with a car pulled over just back north from us, and after he finished with business he came to our rescue. Jenni was out now and we were having a conversation with our hands and had gotten his attention. After a few minutes and our I.D. checks he asked us if we were drinking or fighting. I told him we were just looking for Dunbar Rd and then Jenni added another (previously secret, new) puzzle piece by saying "Cherokee Rd." with that the officer smiled and pointed right to where we just were and said it's right there, just go east about 5 miles. Turns out 282 is Dunbar Rd, a little thing like a road sign could have helped immeasurably. Bill was waiting at the t-road that was just before Cherokee and we followed him about 150 yards to the Condos. Soon we were in the Condo which we shared with David and Laura (Sissy), Jenni's sister and her husband. With the luggage placed in our room we had a glass of wine spent a few minutes to catch up and then we were off to bed.
We arrived at about 11:40 our time (just under 5 hours travel time) and were in bed by 12:15. Thus ended the ordeal laden Friday the 26th (that's like two Friday the 13th's stacked) and the next day was wedding day and more driving. BTW the name of the condo resort turns out to be Hiawatha Manor, we were in building 117, #102 but you can't get there from here.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Back home I reloaded all the travel minutia in the trunk, which has a glow in the dark emergency release handle for that pesky mob hit who just won't die. The snacks and drinks were placed inside the cavernous interior, the doggie condo was re-make-shifted and we were out of the house at 6:37. I drove and we listened to Sirius Satellite radio. Jenni navigated with the blessing of Google maps which took us to Crossville Tennessee. We didn't know where we would be staying address wise, and we didn't know the name of the place either.
When we were about 60 miles out Jenni's family started calling her cell to ask where we were. With our google instructions we made it to Crossville without one single miss turn or step. Then the fun started. The directions from Maggie from I-40 exit 322 included such cartographers dream phrases as "drive a bit" and "take the first turn that has a sign for Lake Tansi" and "Look for Dunbar Rd" other key features that were on a 10 x 12 inch map of the entire town and surrounding area were street names that didn't appear on the streets, and no distance scale on the maps legend. Did I mention that we didn't have the map, Maggie did.
We found a Dunbar Lane which dead ended in about a block. We found 392. We were told to take 392 to Lantanna Rd (which as it turns out is highway 101) which is not labeled as Lantanna Rd so we went right through town to the downtown corridor of Crossville. We eventually ended up at the Wal-Mart where they conveniently were out of detailed Crossville maps, they had no Tennessee Maps either. Another call, this time from Bill who said that Lantanna is 101. I remembered a 101 so we backtracked until we found 101 and headed SW on that now looking at every cross street in the dark for Dunbar Rd. and/or the first sign that said Lake Tansi, no one knew the distances and I was forbade to ask . We found the Lake Tansi sign at highway 282 and were instructed that it would be the 4th or 5th right after taking the road with the sign, we went about a mile and a half and studied every right turn like we had for the Dunbar Rd signage which we never found. Eventually we returned to where we turned off, Jenni was talking to Bill yet again who thought we had gone too far, and I again tried to ask a simple question and immediately silenced. I got out of the car to cool off and wandered around the parking area of the Fairyland Dairy store.
There was a police officer with a car pulled over just back north from us, and after he finished with business he came to our rescue. Jenni was out now and we were having a conversation with our hands and had gotten his attention. After a few minutes and our I.D. checks he asked us if we were drinking or fighting. I told him we were just looking for Dunbar Rd and then Jenni added another (previously secret, new) puzzle piece by saying "Cherokee Rd." with that the officer smiled and pointed right to where we just were and said it's right there, just go east about 5 miles. Turns out 282 is Dunbar Rd, a little thing like a road sign could have helped immeasurably. Bill was waiting at the t-road that was just before Cherokee and we followed him about 150 yards to the Condos. Soon we were in the Condo which we shared with David and Laura (Sissy), Jenni's sister and her husband. With the luggage placed in our room we had a glass of wine spent a few minutes to catch up and then we were off to bed.
We arrived at about 11:40 our time (just under 5 hours travel time) and were in bed by 12:15. Thus ended the ordeal laden Friday the 26th (that's like two Friday the 13th's stacked) and the next day was wedding day and more driving. BTW the name of the condo resort turns out to be Hiawatha Manor, we were in building 117, #102 but you can't get there from here.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Southern Comfort (Pt. 2), Driven to Tears
10/30/07 07:36 AM | Permalink
We made it to Crossville Tennessee before Midnight our time, before 11:00 theirs. That is the optimists record of the event. The Dale Carnegie version. The short and the sweet. Still, there is a little back story necessary here.
Jumping back to (Pt. 1) for a second, a paragraph or a page.
When I wrote the previous post I was sitting at the BMW dealership and service facility. It was before 2:00 and I had not been there very long (I had a 1:30 appointment and barely made it with the traffic on 465 being awful, but that is a drop, let me get the bucket ready). So when I was called back to talk to my personal service rep he was a t lunch, so I got Zack instead, which was fine. I told him I had concerns about the power steering, which was making grinding noises and shaking the steering wheel at slower speeds, plus it had been nearly 6000 miles since my last Oil Change (BMW recommends 7000 mile intervals with their cars and their service and selected oil) and I would be putting on close to 1000 miles on the ride to and fro to Middle Eastern Tennessee for John Mason's wedding to Jennifer Yeager. I created the post below, and since there was no WiFi could not surf or post it at the time. I was told that I would have approximately one hour before they could get to the German Girl, as it was a crazy busy day (They were winterizing lots of German girls, boys and Mini's I reckon), so when 3 PM came and went I was not overly concerned. Around 3:45, after I had haunted the boutique, sales areas and watched all the BMW TV commercials on the in house system, Mike, my personal contact, came over and squatted down next to me at my comfy leather perch and said, "Well here's the deal with the power steering, you have two minor leaks which are still there, we topped off the system and re-pressurized it, but you are due for a flush and general maintenance of the steering system anyway (every two years is the recommended flush/refill cycle). The oil is changed, the service alerts reset and that is ready to go too. Have you been having any problems starting the car?"
I replied truthfully , "no never she starts as soon as you touch the key."
"Ohh," Mike says, "then I think that the electric fuel pump is going out. The guys in the service bay had to tap on the top of the pump motor to get it to start, and they think it is on it's way out."
I reiterated, "I've never had any problems at all, she always starts as soon as you touch the key." Then I told Mike that we were leaving for Tennessee in an hour, "What should I do."
He said. "Take a rubber mallet and tap on the fuel pump motor cap while someone is cranking the motor, it may catch. That's what they had to do to get it started after the oil change. The cover is under the spare tire cover in the trunk."
Another 20 minutes went by before they called my name, I went with the 'guy' who told me that they left her running for fear she wouldn't restart, but I had to go to the cashier. At D&R they always wash the car after servicing it unless you ask them not too, so when I got out to her she was shining and purring but I had new concerns and worries. I got in and drove home without incident, I called Jenni on the way an "heads up-ed her." When I got home I shut her off in the garage. Went in and saw to the packing of my sleep pants, Colts gear and wedding wardrobe. I thought of the warnings and cautions of Mike the BMW guy, went out and started her back up. No problem, I wasn't worried, yet. I went back in finished and loaded the car. She started again, I backed her into the drive and closed the garage. I then prepared a place for Charlie the rat terrier in the garage for a short weekend, and collected the wife and was full of good spirits for a great weekend and a fun drive to Crossville Tennessee with my right arm candy bride. She started again, and ran fine for a few seconds, I released the brake and started down my 18 degree inclined drive where she died before we were completely out of the drive. She sputtered and coughed before her gasp and termination. I tried to re-ignite the passion of six cylinders pumping well over 200 horses worth of power but she wouldn't catch. With half the car in the turnaround in front of the house I had another problem. I emptied the boot (luggage compartment, i.e. trunk) lifted the floor cover and with Jenni cranking malleted the cover cap. She hiccuped a couple of times but refused to budge.
We paused, I disassembled the doggie garage vacation resort spot and ushered him back into la hacienda. I opened the garage and hoped for a few seconds of impetus to get the car up and in before the next phase of the weekend could be considered. Jenni malleted, and I cranked and she grabbed a few times but wouldn't run. Eventually I surrendered to the inevitable, told Jenni to steer as I pushed her back toward the intersection. I had to consider the other problem.
The plan was to align the bumpers and have Jenni push me and the German Girl to the lip of the drive and I would coast up and into the garage and retire her until repairs could be affected. Giving instructions I thought explicit enough Jenni was to come to a rest on the bumper from behind, accelerate as quickly as possible until I reached the driveway incline, and disengage. Instead she got me started, hesitated (instead of maintaining contact), whacked me from behind to resume the push and never got us up to garage re-entry escape velocity.
I had stressed that the driveway was the point of no return and that she was not to push once I was in the driveway because of the angles the taillights and non-bumper areas could be damaged by the truck's bumper. She broke off at the driveway as instructed, so I got the German Girl completely out of the street, which would have to be good enough. I engaged the parking brake, put the car in 1st gear and took the keys out. I was opening the door when Jenni hit us from behind hard enough to crack the bumper in several places, break the 'over the bumper' trim molding and snap my head hard into the seat headrest. Being parked and braked and in gear she only moved a few inches before my yelling could get Jenni to abort the shove.
Jenni started crying, and tried to call her sisters to tell them that we couldn't come. That she (we) would miss her only brother's wedding. She didn't get through to anyone,because they were all at the rehearsal and diner.
Things were looking glum for Jenni, me and the Madchen German Girl. I carried all the luggage and provisions back into the house and chose a spot from which to mope and surrender to my fate.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Jumping back to (Pt. 1) for a second, a paragraph or a page.
When I wrote the previous post I was sitting at the BMW dealership and service facility. It was before 2:00 and I had not been there very long (I had a 1:30 appointment and barely made it with the traffic on 465 being awful, but that is a drop, let me get the bucket ready). So when I was called back to talk to my personal service rep he was a t lunch, so I got Zack instead, which was fine. I told him I had concerns about the power steering, which was making grinding noises and shaking the steering wheel at slower speeds, plus it had been nearly 6000 miles since my last Oil Change (BMW recommends 7000 mile intervals with their cars and their service and selected oil) and I would be putting on close to 1000 miles on the ride to and fro to Middle Eastern Tennessee for John Mason's wedding to Jennifer Yeager. I created the post below, and since there was no WiFi could not surf or post it at the time. I was told that I would have approximately one hour before they could get to the German Girl, as it was a crazy busy day (They were winterizing lots of German girls, boys and Mini's I reckon), so when 3 PM came and went I was not overly concerned. Around 3:45, after I had haunted the boutique, sales areas and watched all the BMW TV commercials on the in house system, Mike, my personal contact, came over and squatted down next to me at my comfy leather perch and said, "Well here's the deal with the power steering, you have two minor leaks which are still there, we topped off the system and re-pressurized it, but you are due for a flush and general maintenance of the steering system anyway (every two years is the recommended flush/refill cycle). The oil is changed, the service alerts reset and that is ready to go too. Have you been having any problems starting the car?"
I replied truthfully , "no never she starts as soon as you touch the key."
"Ohh," Mike says, "then I think that the electric fuel pump is going out. The guys in the service bay had to tap on the top of the pump motor to get it to start, and they think it is on it's way out."
I reiterated, "I've never had any problems at all, she always starts as soon as you touch the key." Then I told Mike that we were leaving for Tennessee in an hour, "What should I do."
He said. "Take a rubber mallet and tap on the fuel pump motor cap while someone is cranking the motor, it may catch. That's what they had to do to get it started after the oil change. The cover is under the spare tire cover in the trunk."
Another 20 minutes went by before they called my name, I went with the 'guy' who told me that they left her running for fear she wouldn't restart, but I had to go to the cashier. At D&R they always wash the car after servicing it unless you ask them not too, so when I got out to her she was shining and purring but I had new concerns and worries. I got in and drove home without incident, I called Jenni on the way an "heads up-ed her." When I got home I shut her off in the garage. Went in and saw to the packing of my sleep pants, Colts gear and wedding wardrobe. I thought of the warnings and cautions of Mike the BMW guy, went out and started her back up. No problem, I wasn't worried, yet. I went back in finished and loaded the car. She started again, I backed her into the drive and closed the garage. I then prepared a place for Charlie the rat terrier in the garage for a short weekend, and collected the wife and was full of good spirits for a great weekend and a fun drive to Crossville Tennessee with my right arm candy bride. She started again, and ran fine for a few seconds, I released the brake and started down my 18 degree inclined drive where she died before we were completely out of the drive. She sputtered and coughed before her gasp and termination. I tried to re-ignite the passion of six cylinders pumping well over 200 horses worth of power but she wouldn't catch. With half the car in the turnaround in front of the house I had another problem. I emptied the boot (luggage compartment, i.e. trunk) lifted the floor cover and with Jenni cranking malleted the cover cap. She hiccuped a couple of times but refused to budge.
We paused, I disassembled the doggie garage vacation resort spot and ushered him back into la hacienda. I opened the garage and hoped for a few seconds of impetus to get the car up and in before the next phase of the weekend could be considered. Jenni malleted, and I cranked and she grabbed a few times but wouldn't run. Eventually I surrendered to the inevitable, told Jenni to steer as I pushed her back toward the intersection. I had to consider the other problem.
The plan was to align the bumpers and have Jenni push me and the German Girl to the lip of the drive and I would coast up and into the garage and retire her until repairs could be affected. Giving instructions I thought explicit enough Jenni was to come to a rest on the bumper from behind, accelerate as quickly as possible until I reached the driveway incline, and disengage. Instead she got me started, hesitated (instead of maintaining contact), whacked me from behind to resume the push and never got us up to garage re-entry escape velocity.
I had stressed that the driveway was the point of no return and that she was not to push once I was in the driveway because of the angles the taillights and non-bumper areas could be damaged by the truck's bumper. She broke off at the driveway as instructed, so I got the German Girl completely out of the street, which would have to be good enough. I engaged the parking brake, put the car in 1st gear and took the keys out. I was opening the door when Jenni hit us from behind hard enough to crack the bumper in several places, break the 'over the bumper' trim molding and snap my head hard into the seat headrest. Being parked and braked and in gear she only moved a few inches before my yelling could get Jenni to abort the shove.
Jenni started crying, and tried to call her sisters to tell them that we couldn't come. That she (we) would miss her only brother's wedding. She didn't get through to anyone,because they were all at the rehearsal and diner.
Things were looking glum for Jenni, me and the Madchen German Girl. I carried all the luggage and provisions back into the house and chose a spot from which to mope and surrender to my fate.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Southern Comfort (Pt. 1)
10/26/07 01:58 PM | Permalink
So it seems like every time before I have to drive to Tennessee I have service issues. Today's are nothing major (I hope) but better safe than sorry. As I write I am sitting at Dreyer & Reinbold waiting for my Girl to get some of her fluids topped (power steering) and others (oil) replaced. After these are taken care of it will be home to pack then southbound again. Jenni's brother John and his betrothed Jennifer are less than 24 hours away from the title man and wife. The wedding is in Pikesville, Tennessee. The reserved rooms for this evening and tomorrow evening are in Crossville. The drive from Indy to Crossville is supposed to take 6 hrs 49 minutes as you are mapped by google. We will see what the actual mileage and time is to the two destinations soon enough. I've never been to either, so it looks to be more new experiences.
Speaking of new experiences, Jenni's dad Bill tells us that the bridge hunter.com link told him that there are two covered bridges in Cheatham county (where the Mason clan reside) that he never knew about. Who knows I might be cataloging more covered bridges in the next few days to add to my growing list of visited and photographed sites. If I have time I may add the latitude and longitudes of those and any in the Knoxville area to my mapping program for future reference.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Speaking of new experiences, Jenni's dad Bill tells us that the bridge hunter.com link told him that there are two covered bridges in Cheatham county (where the Mason clan reside) that he never knew about. Who knows I might be cataloging more covered bridges in the next few days to add to my growing list of visited and photographed sites. If I have time I may add the latitude and longitudes of those and any in the Knoxville area to my mapping program for future reference.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Bridges of Rush County
10/21/07 08:57 AM | Permalink
First stop on the whirl wind tour of Rush Counties in use Covered Bridges
So I went to bed with a week old plan. The plan was to go to Moscow Indiana to find the two tier bridge I heard about last Sunday. Well I'm not married to a 'net geek for nothing, so I went to google and typed in 'Covered Bridges Rush County Indiana' and I found a few sites. The best one, bridge hunter.com, gave me five in Rush county. Five. Even better, the site gives you the GPS coordinates which you can plug into Google, and if you have a google account, you can build your own custom maps. Here I wish to apologize to anybody using dial-up to view these pages, this is a phone connection colossus!
View Larger Map
Bridge number two
I pre-mapped my route, starting at Washington square, I headed east to Charlottesville, then took Carthage Rd to Carthage (an obvious choice I might add) from there to Offutt's Bridge, conveniently located on Offutt Bridge Rd. from there it was a straight shot east again to Norris Ford Covered Bridge, we then backtracked a half mile and headed S/W on Ft.-Wayne Rd to Smith Ford Covered Bridge. Back again to Ft.-Wayne Rd, and into Rushville for a Hawaiian Chicken Sandwich at Hardee's, then S. on IN-3 to W. 600S which winds around and becomes W. 650 S. and runs right next to the Forsythe Mill Covered Bridge. Staying on W.650 s, which winds around some more and becomes S. 500 W, you continue south until you see Skating Rink Rd. a right turn has you going west then diagonally until you see the Moscow Bridge, which is the largest of these 5 bridges all built by the Kennedy's of Rush County between 1886 and 1916. I choose to take STRD-244 to Michigan Rd into Shelbyville, and IN-9 back to US 52 and then home. The trip took about 5 1/2 hours including restroom and restaurant stops, plus time for me to take 124 photos. It was an excellent way to put 125 miles on the car and find more "buried" treasure in the State of my birth and habitation. Plus I get to add Moscow and Rushville to my list of visited Indiana towns.
Bridge number three
Bridge number four
The final Bridge In Moscow.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Miles from Nowhere
10/19/07 06:26 AM | Permalink
Friday. End of the work week. A day after big storms. Expecting temperature highs in the 60's, yesterday I noted 79° temps while driving at lunchtime with my wife. Schizophrenic weather, rough days, longest work day behind. Tonight is another outing and bowling extravaganza, league bowling, that is. Our team "Copies Plus" has been doing pretty well the last few weeks, but we are still very early in the season. I went online to find our standings only to find that they are not published anymore, at least not in any place I can find.
Tomorrow is another day off. It will be welcome. This has been one long week. If the weather is nice (and it should be) it could be Moscow Indiana day, and the elusive covered bridge search.
I've been to Brazil, Warsaw, Peru, Lebanon, Edinburgh, Monticello, Cleveland, Delphi, Angola, Atlanta, Mexico, Florida, Yorktown, Charlottsville, Orleans, Salem, Dublin and Cicero without ever leaving Indiana, I've been to Russiaville, but not Moscow, I've been to Petersburg, but there is no Saint Petersburg. I've been through Windfall without profit. Seen no sign of battle or warfare in two Bunker Hills, shivered in Miami, and looked for water but found not port in Portland. I've not been everywhere but I do get around Indiana.
Well, I digress. That is what I do. Maybe tomorrow, maybe someday. You've changed.
Cat Stevens (Yusef Islam), "Miles from Nowhere"
Miles from nowhere
I guess I'll take my time
Oh yeah, to reach there
Look up at the mountain
I have to climb
Oh yeah, to reach there.
Lord my body has been a good friend
But I won't need it when I reach the end
Miles from nowhere
Guess I'll take my time
Oh yeah, to reach there
I creep through the valleys
And I grope through the woods
'cause I know when I find it my honey
It's gonna make me feel good
I love everything
So don't it make you feel sad
'cause I'll drink to you, my baby
I'll think to that, I'll think to that.
Miles from nowhere
Not a soul in sight
Oh yeah, but it's alright
I have my freedom
I can make my own rules
Oh yeah, the ones that I choose
Lord my body has been a good friend
But I won't need it when I reach the end
Miles from nowhere
Guess I'll take my time
Oh yeah, to reach there.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Tomorrow is another day off. It will be welcome. This has been one long week. If the weather is nice (and it should be) it could be Moscow Indiana day, and the elusive covered bridge search.
I've been to Brazil, Warsaw, Peru, Lebanon, Edinburgh, Monticello, Cleveland, Delphi, Angola, Atlanta, Mexico, Florida, Yorktown, Charlottsville, Orleans, Salem, Dublin and Cicero without ever leaving Indiana, I've been to Russiaville, but not Moscow, I've been to Petersburg, but there is no Saint Petersburg. I've been through Windfall without profit. Seen no sign of battle or warfare in two Bunker Hills, shivered in Miami, and looked for water but found not port in Portland. I've not been everywhere but I do get around Indiana.
Well, I digress. That is what I do. Maybe tomorrow, maybe someday. You've changed.
Cat Stevens (Yusef Islam), "Miles from Nowhere"
Miles from nowhere
I guess I'll take my time
Oh yeah, to reach there
Look up at the mountain
I have to climb
Oh yeah, to reach there.
Lord my body has been a good friend
But I won't need it when I reach the end
Miles from nowhere
Guess I'll take my time
Oh yeah, to reach there
I creep through the valleys
And I grope through the woods
'cause I know when I find it my honey
It's gonna make me feel good
I love everything
So don't it make you feel sad
'cause I'll drink to you, my baby
I'll think to that, I'll think to that.
Miles from nowhere
Not a soul in sight
Oh yeah, but it's alright
I have my freedom
I can make my own rules
Oh yeah, the ones that I choose
Lord my body has been a good friend
But I won't need it when I reach the end
Miles from nowhere
Guess I'll take my time
Oh yeah, to reach there.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Every otherday of the week is fine
10/16/07 07:14 AM | Permalink
The Charlottesville Indiana Strip. Chuck Pace © 2007
Sunday was a rough day. There was no race distraction. There was no Colts game. There was Jenni going to get a hair-cut in Greenfield, only to find that Tina had called in sick. There was Jenni waiting an hour to get her hair
I asked at Peavey's market and fuel stop if there was a covered bridge in the area. The unanimous answer was, "there used to be, but I don't know where." Stepping outside I tried to text Jenni back that we should meet at Culvers for a shake and burger in 45 minutes. I was in a cell phone dead zone, so the message would be sent automatically when I returned to a coverage area. I stopped a total stranger, and asked if he knew of or about the missing bridge. "Yes. But it is gone, but there is a two tiered one in Moscow." He proceeded to tell me how to get to Moscow from Carthage by way of Milroy. I made note of the salient points while not actually having time to track down and uncover the whereabouts of this covered bridge. That will be another days exploration. Back in the car I was looking for fun photo opps while meandering my way back to Greenfield and food. The road from Carthage ended up on US 40 at
Duh! Barns. Keep reading. Fer Cryin out loud.
Charlottesville where I took one of my photos. I found a few others, the electric cows, a couple of dilapidated barns, and a yard full of ghouls in Cleveland (a town barely larger than a canker sore on US 40).
Check It out Soul Bother!
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Time In a Bottle
10/09/07 07:17 AM | Permalink
I DREAM OF JEANNIE WITH THE DARK BROWN BREW. Chuck Pace © 2007
Back to the box. Alysha continued to deliver good birthday will to Mike as other members of our party provided more celebration libation to young Mr. Wilson. I got to deliver a special happy birthday wish from the other side of the World from DeAnne Roth who was wining and dining (on peanuts) herself with her friend Kristin in Madrid Spain when I called her at 2:00 EDT. Hey I didn't know she was in Spain, but she did take the call, and was quite amused by my trivial question.
In addition to Mike's birthday it was also Roberts office manager Evie's birthday, and there are at least 4 more to celebrate before November strikes.
Well I have to get out the door or I will most likely miss another birthday celebration. Cheers to all and to all a good night.
I don't think Mike was driving a black van last night.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Road Trip on Memory Lane
09/30/07 07:04 AM | Permalink
Yesterday I took that trip, a small part of it at any rate.
Jenni and I headed out at 5 PM. We went to Spencer Lapidary just off the junction of highways 37 and 13 on the southern tip of Elwood. We've seen it a few times, but never stopped until yesterday. It has some amazing rocks, and since I was a "rock hound' when I was in Junior and Senior high school I was enthralled. We both were, and after a 45 minute visit to a showroom roughly the size of my living room and dining room, we left with some very wise purchases in a bag too small for a PBJ sandwich. My big purchase was the 2" diameter Brazilian Agate sphere shown here, and in detail below.
Above: Three Faces of My Brazilian Agate Sphere in detail.
Below: The other six stones from Spencer Lapidary. Chuck Pace ©2007
The primary reason I stopped at that particular spot is because I worked in that very building when I was in high school. It was Rogers and Son Union 76 full service station, owned by Marshall Rogers, and run by Ron Rogers his son. It was before the time of self service. We did car repairs, alignments, brakes and batteries. I was driving a suspect '69 VW bug, my coworker Jeff Hauk an awesome 68 Sapphire Blue Satellite 400cid beast, but the neatest car in the stable was Ron's weekend night ride, a dirt sprint car with graphics and lettering painted by me, I got to go to a couple of races in Kokomo when Ron running and really enjoyed the action.
Leaving Elwood on highway 13 our next stop was Swayzee, IN. Where I went to elementary school, and the first place I ever remember living. The place has changed some, and is smaller than I remembered. Jenni and I had double Cheeseburgers at Social's Cafe, which was called the Peace and Plenty last time I saw it. After dinner we headed to my grade school buddy Jeff Shane's first house, then to the house I grew up in. On the way out of town we drove past a couple of other buddies homes that I used to ride my bike to. I was telling Jenni a lot of the history of the school and town as I drove.
Next over to Marion, then south to the farm where I spent my Junior and Senior High School years. The current owners took down the house and barn, and have a double wide trailer on the property now. More changes. On into Frankton, I barely recognized the place, the Elementary and Jr. High school are not where they were, the "downtown" is completely different and the High School is twice the size it was when I went there and graduated 29 years ago. I was warned by Nicci Herrin, another Frankton Eagle alumni, that I wouldn't recognize the town. She was right. I feel like I'm old, and someone keeps moving my chair. Dang.
The day ended with me trying to find the home of my best high school friend Dwaine Jackson and his sister Dana's who both now live Anderson. I found Dwaine's but not Dana's while driving around in the dark. Well it was a good day. I've got the stones to say so.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Is that where the recliner was when we left?
Blank Canvas, Clean Slate
09/25/07 06:35 AM | Permalink
When I have nothing to say my lips are sealed. Say something once why say it again. The immortal words of David Byrne, from "Psycho Killer", Talking Heads:77. I think that is a wise and astute statement to make. Substitute tips (as in finger) for lips and you have my recent blogging philosophy. Even those that are listening (or reading) want fresh content. Nobody wants drivel for the sake of drivel. Sophistry, meaningless diatribe, pointless convective, that is all available from the political pundits as another election year is just around the corner. Is this why I have been so frequently absent from the ethers of net? No and yes.
When I first started this project on September 28th 2005, I had no direction, I thought I would just try to write something everyday and add colorful imagery. I did that for over a year missing few days. Then routine became, requirement, even though the story being told was what? Enthralling? Amazing? No more often mundane with tiny slices of interest in a pie made mostly of filler. Mostly. Still I could chronicle events of flavor local, regional and sometimes national from a point of view I'm told is different, strange at times and amusing. I soldier on but my day to day recital becomes less all those things with repetition I fear. Nobody comes here to hear the latest in world news, political intrigue or technological advancements. That's not thought that is puked now is it. This a small world sort of placed to visit. My small world My friends, my sphere, likes and dislikes tempered to raise few objections, rankle few feelings or ruffle few feathers. I don't take very many stands, proclaim many ultimate truths or condone or condemn many ideologues. I write about bowling, bars, music and my friends. When I don't go out and do life, I have very little to talk about, I don't much judge, measure, interfere or presuppose to have a better way for others to be or live. I don't even know a better way for myself, I just prattle on about the incidents that make my days less dull, painful or forgettable. I could never say it better than Roger Waters and Pink Floyd in the first two verses of "Time" from Dark Side of the Moon, before the defeatist mood overwhelms the song.
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way. Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town Waiting for someone or something to show you the way. Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain. You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today. And then one day you find ten years have got behind you. No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
When I first started this project on September 28th 2005, I had no direction, I thought I would just try to write something everyday and add colorful imagery. I did that for over a year missing few days. Then routine became, requirement, even though the story being told was what? Enthralling? Amazing? No more often mundane with tiny slices of interest in a pie made mostly of filler. Mostly. Still I could chronicle events of flavor local, regional and sometimes national from a point of view I'm told is different, strange at times and amusing. I soldier on but my day to day recital becomes less all those things with repetition I fear. Nobody comes here to hear the latest in world news, political intrigue or technological advancements. That's not thought that is puked now is it. This a small world sort of placed to visit. My small world My friends, my sphere, likes and dislikes tempered to raise few objections, rankle few feelings or ruffle few feathers. I don't take very many stands, proclaim many ultimate truths or condone or condemn many ideologues. I write about bowling, bars, music and my friends. When I don't go out and do life, I have very little to talk about, I don't much judge, measure, interfere or presuppose to have a better way for others to be or live. I don't even know a better way for myself, I just prattle on about the incidents that make my days less dull, painful or forgettable. I could never say it better than Roger Waters and Pink Floyd in the first two verses of "Time" from Dark Side of the Moon, before the defeatist mood overwhelms the song.
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way. Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town Waiting for someone or something to show you the way. Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain. You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today. And then one day you find ten years have got behind you. No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
Fanfare for Dummies
09/21/07 06:44 AM | Permalink
Festering Gobs, at the12th annual Indy Irish Fest Chuck Pace ©2007
Listening to ''Copland:Fanfare For The Common Man'', by Eugene Ormandy: Philadelphia Orchestra (Play Count: 2)
Yesterday, on my day off I had lofty aspirations, I was going to make the best of the moments given. I baked three tomato pies (one is now gone to fire the generators
FYI: Nobody knows what Travis was doing to Rachel's shirt, he said he was looking for directions, I think he was trying to tuck the dollar I gave him for the tie flash!
Wrinkle Creamsicles
09/11/07 11:55 PM | Permalink
Pontooning on the Suwanee River with the 50th Anniversary Revelers,
R to L:Phil Pace, Jenni, Bejo Yorkie, Madge Pace, Charles Atlas, Meredith Pace. Chuck Pace©2007
Vacations go by way too fast, even when there are so many slow moments in them (like 288 mile car trips from So-East FL to No-West FL). Still the break from routine is always welcome, the chance to be outside or beyond the day to day, and in the "what today" mode. As everybody knows the nine to five world goes by pretty quick with only the more memorable moments making any kind of impression. That is why it seems like the years slip by faster the older you get. They don't really, but the wonder of discoveries of our youth or the diversity of new and different experiences are a lot harder to come by as we age, not to mention the consistency of experience of a work-a-day world.
That being said and understood, and I know that you understand, I really do, it is no wonder that the true and memorable wonders come when we are immersed in a foreign environment or a unexpected situation. As much as I like and enjoy my job I wouldn't dream of going in to my work place when I'm on vacation, and hanging out for 8 or 9 hours. Thank goodness my parents got married fifty years ago this week, besides Dennis and I being 'Old Bastards' if they hadn't, I would not have had this new and rewarding set of wrinkles added to my brain. My routine has only once before had a parental 50th anniversary event, and that was Jenni's parents on on Christmas day 2005 in Tennessee, way different wrinkles, memories and notable timeline additions. I could not tell you what I did a week before or a week after that milestone memory mark, but that is of course the point of this discourse.
Locals fishing in the surf, Jupiter Beach Florida.
First Leg Over the Next
09/07/07 02:09 PM | Permalink
Southwest flights take off from Tampa Airport about every 12 minutes.
2:07 p.m. Jenni and I are on the ground at Tampa airport (TPA), and don't leave for over 2 hours. Our connection flight to West
Palm Beach (PBI) leaves at 4:35. The Southwest flight from Indianapolis was notable only in it's total lack of intrigue, problem or hassle. The most interesting part of the journey so far was prior to our check in running into
Chris West on concourse C waiting for his best friend to arrive from Texas. I told him that I had mentioned him in my post earlier this morning for my near injury experience. (Do not cross at the light Carol Ann, all are not welcome). We talked for a few minutes, then his party arrived with a 12 lb. Maltese pooch in a screened in travel case. They were off like a shot, leaving behind an unused bottle of water.
Smokers Cage. Luminati and Glass Wall Junction hardware at TPA. Chuck Pace ©2007
Here at the TPA with time to K I L L I have been enjoying the modern and wonderful architecture of the facility. I have heard several pages for Suzanne Lucci, and one for Rebecca Campbell. I wondered if someone was trying to get info on a camera repair from our Becky at Roberts about 1080 miles from where we are seated right now. I called her but she said they would have to call the store.
I have killed over forty minutes and have had a bottle of vasa water and a Nathan's chili dog for $ 6.00. What a bargain.
A tyke scampers on the wall around the play center, thirty foot ceilings and lots of glass make the terminal bright and open. My photo reconnaissance yielded several nice shots and got me to 3:40 now there is less than an hour to kill, and we will be on the ground in West Palm by 5:10 45 minutes door to door, so to speak.
Sky Captain and the Anniversary of Tomorrow
09/07/07 07:54 AM | Permalink
In under 4 hours Jenni and I will be looking down on all you people in Indy. Not with an air of superiority or smugness, but with airline tickets in hand and Florida in our future. This weekend is the 50th wedding Anniversary for Phil and Madge Pace, and since they are my parents I feel inclined to be there with both wife and daughter. Meredith (the daughter of record) is picking us up at West Palm Beach Airport a little after 5 p.m.. From there it a trip to Meredith Arms resort Apartment and luxury flop-house in Sunny Stuart Florida. To be followed by a whirlwind tour of the Florida Turnpike north to Chiefland, Fanning Springs and historic Old Town on the Suwanee River (it's way down upon the Suwanee, to see my Mammy, far far away). I go with hope and joy, I go to rest and recuperate. I go with Jenni. I go to celebrate.
I leave with celebration already practiced last night as the Mighty Colts opened the season as the Champions and gave a championship performance in front of the entire nation. They are undefeated, defensively strong, offensively awesome and on their way. Several times during the pre-game and game I had tears of pride and joy in my eyes (I wasn't washing the dishes, I'm talking happiness here people not accident!) The Colts racked up over 440 of offense and barely allowed 200 from last years most potent offense, Deuce and Reggie (Bush) both managed to rush for 39 yards each, while the defense caused 1 fumble take away, and picked two Drew spirals from the friendly domed skies. One by Giordano for an 83 yard TD untouched for the teams final score bring the total to 41 points after Adam V. split the uprights for the 7th time that night tacking on the extra point (two FG's, 5 Extra points).
I celebrate my good and bad fortune before I go. Yesterday I got closer to being full-on ChrisWested when a "fan" failed to stop at the intersection of South and Meridian as I was walking back from a love lunch at Arby's with the missus. The party atmosphere, the crowds revving up for the nights NFL opening event and the (not too distracting) distractions of traffic lights and pedestrians got me an exclusive ride on the hood of a burgundy Ford Taurus, as a motorist looking out the side window gathered me with his bumper and bonnet while I was crossing to the light and delight of my illuminated traffic icon. I felt I was o.k. I thought I was o.k. but later my hand swelled up some and my eternally aching ankles were infernally aching again. After the impact and the Yo-yo hop back to the street I was asked if I was alright by the shocked interloper of lane, I said, "I think so", was flexing my hand and asked if the hand was o.k., I said again "I think so", then thrice like Beetlejuice was asked if I was o.k. I think I may have wowed the man with my eloquence when I said, "I think so". So moved by my soliloquy was he that he joyously depressed accelerator pedal and completed the much desired running of the light (running of the Bulls? Taurus?) and was gone from my life forever. I didn't get license plate again or address to exchange holiday mail, and on a decided adrenaline rush walked back to the store. An hour later I was on the Post Adrenal Depression Blues, and I didn't even have a harmonica to mark the occasion.
I report today that I am 100% Chuck, no fillers, no artificial sweeteners (artifice) no added aches, pains or ... Um. Where was I. So I think the Colts played yesterday... Oh, or memory loss or loss of Concentration (hosted by Art Fleming, see I still have it, at least until they find a cure).
O.K. so I think I have to finish packing, where are we going again? I still have that bounce in my step, I just need the boost that only Adrenaline and Ford can provide. Have You Ridden a Ford Lately?
I leave with celebration already practiced last night as the Mighty Colts opened the season as the Champions and gave a championship performance in front of the entire nation. They are undefeated, defensively strong, offensively awesome and on their way. Several times during the pre-game and game I had tears of pride and joy in my eyes (I wasn't washing the dishes, I'm talking happiness here people not accident!) The Colts racked up over 440 of offense and barely allowed 200 from last years most potent offense, Deuce and Reggie (Bush) both managed to rush for 39 yards each, while the defense caused 1 fumble take away, and picked two Drew spirals from the friendly domed skies. One by Giordano for an 83 yard TD untouched for the teams final score bring the total to 41 points after Adam V. split the uprights for the 7th time that night tacking on the extra point (two FG's, 5 Extra points).
I celebrate my good and bad fortune before I go. Yesterday I got closer to being full-on ChrisWested when a "fan" failed to stop at the intersection of South and Meridian as I was walking back from a love lunch at Arby's with the missus. The party atmosphere, the crowds revving up for the nights NFL opening event and the (not too distracting) distractions of traffic lights and pedestrians got me an exclusive ride on the hood of a burgundy Ford Taurus, as a motorist looking out the side window gathered me with his bumper and bonnet while I was crossing to the light and delight of my illuminated traffic icon. I felt I was o.k. I thought I was o.k. but later my hand swelled up some and my eternally aching ankles were infernally aching again. After the impact and the Yo-yo hop back to the street I was asked if I was alright by the shocked interloper of lane, I said, "I think so", was flexing my hand and asked if the hand was o.k., I said again "I think so", then thrice like Beetlejuice was asked if I was o.k. I think I may have wowed the man with my eloquence when I said, "I think so". So moved by my soliloquy was he that he joyously depressed accelerator pedal and completed the much desired running of the light (running of the Bulls? Taurus?) and was gone from my life forever. I didn't get license plate again or address to exchange holiday mail, and on a decided adrenaline rush walked back to the store. An hour later I was on the Post Adrenal Depression Blues, and I didn't even have a harmonica to mark the occasion.
I report today that I am 100% Chuck, no fillers, no artificial sweeteners (artifice) no added aches, pains or ... Um. Where was I. So I think the Colts played yesterday... Oh, or memory loss or loss of Concentration (hosted by Art Fleming, see I still have it, at least until they find a cure).
O.K. so I think I have to finish packing, where are we going again? I still have that bounce in my step, I just need the boost that only Adrenaline and Ford can provide. Have You Ridden a Ford Lately?
A Long Short Week
09/04/07 07:12 AM | Permalink
Time. I have less in front of me this week than most weeks. Why you may ask? Silver Bird. O.K. Maybe White Bird, Maybe different color bird, I don't yet know. It is a Southwest Bird, but not a roadrunner, no definitely not a roadrunner, that was the other option, the one that couldn't be afforded. Ding! Your are Free to move about the country. (Free is not what you are).
Do I ramble?
I wander?
No in something around 77 hours I will take to the sky. Destination Moon, oh that is a the B-52's song I just heard, no my (and Jenni's)destination West Palm Beach Airport Florida. The occasion, vacation celebration relaxation and possibly resuscitation. My parents 50th wedding anniversary. My daughters new lodgings, my escape from routine which I routinely have to do, this is the mission. So Meredith is picking us up in West Palm, driving us to Stuart and showing off her new digs. Then we drive 170 miles to Old Town on the Suwanee River for the milestone 50th anniversary, from there the intenerary is an open book, not even the sky is the limit. The only governing body to our bodies is moolah of which we have scarcely any.
What will, befall our intrepid travelers? Tune in and see on an all new episode of (Get) LOST.
Have laptop will travel, Hot spots get me to the hot spots.
Do I ramble?
I wander?
No in something around 77 hours I will take to the sky. Destination Moon, oh that is a the B-52's song I just heard, no my (and Jenni's)destination West Palm Beach Airport Florida. The occasion, vacation celebration relaxation and possibly resuscitation. My parents 50th wedding anniversary. My daughters new lodgings, my escape from routine which I routinely have to do, this is the mission. So Meredith is picking us up in West Palm, driving us to Stuart and showing off her new digs. Then we drive 170 miles to Old Town on the Suwanee River for the milestone 50th anniversary, from there the intenerary is an open book, not even the sky is the limit. The only governing body to our bodies is moolah of which we have scarcely any.
What will, befall our intrepid travelers? Tune in and see on an all new episode of (Get) LOST.
Have laptop will travel, Hot spots get me to the hot spots.
Three Day Weekend
09/02/07 10:25 AM | Permalink
Time. I have more in front of me today than most weekends. What will I do with this bounty of sweeps, ticks, tock and circuits? Well if money were no object (which of course it is and it finds my company objectionable of late) there would be no end to the mirth or mischief I could partake in. Today is the final day of the live theatre Fringefest on Mass Ave., there are 5 buck movies at the cinemaplex, there's terrific weather all about and lots of places begging to be road-tripped to. So many places so little Franklin's for Pace's,
Yesterday I decided to stumble into the garage to straighten and put some tools away. That was a about 10:30. I took everything out of the left side, painted, trashed, swept (several times) built shelves, modified shelves, hung old license plates over the inside of the garage door; something my Great Uncle Curt used to do, he started with plates from Indiana dating back to 1906 or 1909, when they were just like boat tags. The State issued you numbers and made your own. When I was about ten I saw his collection covering an entire wall in his house, he had every year represented and multiples of some, and had started a collection of other states as well. I have plates back to 1992 the second year we were in the house, and with the 4 year sticker deal there are year gaps... Oh, just like putting away tools I have wandered off in a tangent.
In my labors I didn't really eat anything yesterday until 2:36 AM (this morning technically), just toiled away, occasionally doing small outside (the garage) errands like mowing, and watering the garden, but mostly just getting dirty and losing all sense of time and need. At some point around 5PM I had a Jello snack bowl with fruits (about the size of a fist), and a cherry tomato. Today it is about 10:40 again and I will be continuing my toils in garagiva, I will head out there to lose all sense (should I just stop there) of time again after I finish the biscuits and gravy Jenni has brought me. There will be another break when I fire up the grill in the perfect pre-laborday weather. There are no pictures, and less than their thousand word equivalency here so imagine if you will. The theme music starts, Do de do do, do de do do starts, A stopwatch whizzes by, then a door in a frame tumbles past opening just as it recedes to a vanishing point..
"You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's a signpost up ahead- your next stop, The Twilight Zone!"
One of the many introductions to the series which began in 1959, there were three others in the original series, and the most recent permutation with Forrest Whitaker (which started in 2002) has a very similar opening to the one I just used. Replacing the That's a signpost up ahead- your next stop, with You're entering...
Yesterday I decided to stumble into the garage to straighten and put some tools away. That was a about 10:30. I took everything out of the left side, painted, trashed, swept (several times) built shelves, modified shelves, hung old license plates over the inside of the garage door; something my Great Uncle Curt used to do, he started with plates from Indiana dating back to 1906 or 1909, when they were just like boat tags. The State issued you numbers and made your own. When I was about ten I saw his collection covering an entire wall in his house, he had every year represented and multiples of some, and had started a collection of other states as well. I have plates back to 1992 the second year we were in the house, and with the 4 year sticker deal there are year gaps... Oh, just like putting away tools I have wandered off in a tangent.
In my labors I didn't really eat anything yesterday until 2:36 AM (this morning technically), just toiled away, occasionally doing small outside (the garage) errands like mowing, and watering the garden, but mostly just getting dirty and losing all sense of time and need. At some point around 5PM I had a Jello snack bowl with fruits (about the size of a fist), and a cherry tomato. Today it is about 10:40 again and I will be continuing my toils in garagiva, I will head out there to lose all sense (should I just stop there) of time again after I finish the biscuits and gravy Jenni has brought me. There will be another break when I fire up the grill in the perfect pre-laborday weather. There are no pictures, and less than their thousand word equivalency here so imagine if you will. The theme music starts, Do de do do, do de do do starts, A stopwatch whizzes by, then a door in a frame tumbles past opening just as it recedes to a vanishing point..
"You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's a signpost up ahead- your next stop, The Twilight Zone!"
Oliver South
08/30/07 07:01 AM | Permalink
Retired and back to work, all in the same day. Chuck Pace ©2007
Tuesday I got the Madchen back on the road with repairs reimbursed and new tire on the front where there was damage and despair (not da spare) before. So, yesterday Jenni and I had plans to tool to the park with basket of picnic in tow. Jenni had a senior moment and came to Roberts almost an hour early, I couldn't leave then so I got to keep my pic-a-nic basket Ranger Smith, and ate alone in the parking lot at work instead. Later, but still yesterday, at the Chatterbox was the winer shoot-out (we made that on time) with wines from Washington State, Italy and Germany going head to head with Indiana's own Oliver winery. I am sad to admit that I liked them ferner wines on two of the three styles better than the Oliver. For me the sole winning O' face off offering was the first one, their Riesling which recently won a gold medal in a more educated palate playoff. To me I like the wine for how it tastes in my glass, I don't know if having a medal slung around the bottle changes the flavor any but...
Maybe Jack had a cheddar-ectomy, goodness knows Bill "The Big Cheesy" Brooks almost got ChrisWested on the patio by flying cheese planks, Sweet Cheeses he got lucky. My last three shout outs go to Ray Huntington and Sarah (Beanblossom)Huntington, who returned out of breath from Breathe with Travis, and to Chris West who gave me what I thought was a rather stiff Melancholy blue wave hello.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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No Harrowing Addiction
08/24/07 06:50 AM | Permalink
Lasterday on my day off, I had to drop off the Bimmer at Downtown Car Care Center because the right front brake was grabbing and shaking unfortunately that meant getting the car downtown. The reason I parked her after the most recent 53 miles of use (see post from 8-20) was the possibly warped rotor (society puts so much credence on "normal" behavior, as I do on brake behavior) and scary braking. Scary does begin to describe the drive in. I took 465 to Brookville, to English to avoid major traffic or lots of stops, which turned out to be a wise decision. Once on Brookville I could pace my driving to keep from having to come to a complete stop through most intersections. I had to stop four times total, and that was after I had already veered left to take English Ave. The first was just before Sherman and I put on the emergency flashers and moved over to the right and stopped a quarter block back. The whole car was shaking and the seizing and jarring was telegraphed through the steering wheel fiercely. The noise from up front was like a giant eating boulders. It was hard to get the car to roll for a few hundred feet, the friction was so great on the right corner. The next two stops tested me to the very limits of my nerve. At Southwestern and English after a similar stop (this time in the left lane as the right lane is required to turn onto S.W'ern). As the light changed I gave the car the gas only to find that the right front tire was now locked up and I was skidding it through the intersection, I had no choice but to clear the intersection, then got over to the parking lane and got out shaking quite as much as the car had been.
I sat there a few minutes. I got out and checked the tire for damage. I got back in thinking that I could not leave it there, nor could I afford a tow truck (hell, I can't even afford the repair but I have to be able to get to work) I backed up about four feet and the wheel rolled freer so I put it in 1st gear and soldiered on. The next stop was far more harrowing. I got to the Six way intersection at East, Virginia and South and once again had to be in the left lane to turn onto Virginia. When the light changed there were about 50 cars oncoming that needed to clear the intersection befor my left turn. The right tire was again locked up. I tried backing to free it to no avail, the light changed finding me there at the same spot, with the emergency blinkers on cars were moving to the right lane to avoid me, and I tried several times to rock back and forth to break the seized wheel free. After missing another green and yellow light opportunity I decided that it was only a block up, and I would force my will on the Madchen at the next opportunity. The light cycled again, and I had to wait for all the oncoming traffic in the northern hemisphere. By the time I could go it was red, but I went. The left hand turn of 145° was nearly impossible without the outside tire turning, I was able to get onto the most outside lane and drag the car past the new high-rise apartments on the corner before mercifully the wheel broke free enough to drive the final 200 feet, and allow me to turn into the repair center. I saw Travis' V-Dub with hula girl on the dash there in the lot, but once I got in there was no Little Buddy. I turned over the key to Bob Hiatt and walked to the Anthem parking lot to sit and read by the truck until Jenni could leave and take my exhausted and emotionally shaken carcass home. As I walked I saw the aftermath of my dragging the tire through the recently paved far right lane near the condo palace. I do not want to ever repeat an experience like this one, but I do know we make our own luck, and I know how I make mine, so next time it will probably be worse.
I sat there a few minutes. I got out and checked the tire for damage. I got back in thinking that I could not leave it there, nor could I afford a tow truck (hell, I can't even afford the repair but I have to be able to get to work) I backed up about four feet and the wheel rolled freer so I put it in 1st gear and soldiered on. The next stop was far more harrowing. I got to the Six way intersection at East, Virginia and South and once again had to be in the left lane to turn onto Virginia. When the light changed there were about 50 cars oncoming that needed to clear the intersection befor my left turn. The right tire was again locked up. I tried backing to free it to no avail, the light changed finding me there at the same spot, with the emergency blinkers on cars were moving to the right lane to avoid me, and I tried several times to rock back and forth to break the seized wheel free. After missing another green and yellow light opportunity I decided that it was only a block up, and I would force my will on the Madchen at the next opportunity. The light cycled again, and I had to wait for all the oncoming traffic in the northern hemisphere. By the time I could go it was red, but I went. The left hand turn of 145° was nearly impossible without the outside tire turning, I was able to get onto the most outside lane and drag the car past the new high-rise apartments on the corner before mercifully the wheel broke free enough to drive the final 200 feet, and allow me to turn into the repair center. I saw Travis' V-Dub with hula girl on the dash there in the lot, but once I got in there was no Little Buddy. I turned over the key to Bob Hiatt and walked to the Anthem parking lot to sit and read by the truck until Jenni could leave and take my exhausted and emotionally shaken carcass home. As I walked I saw the aftermath of my dragging the tire through the recently paved far right lane near the condo palace. I do not want to ever repeat an experience like this one, but I do know we make our own luck, and I know how I make mine, so next time it will probably be worse.
The Call, and the Right of Way
08/15/07 07:06 AM | Permalink
She'll be back "strutting" her stuff soon. Chuck Pace ©2007
Yesterday Happens. So I got the call from Larry. He says, "You were right. That radiator was leaking. So we are going to replace it under warranty, but there is something else we need to talk about." I'm thinking, if it's Amway I'm done with these guys after this repair. But it was just something I needed done, a repair I put in the offing, now getting critical. The right front strut, she is cracked. She needs replacin' before there is a a chance of a failure or accident, which would leave a more expensive bill and a tow truck, if not something far worse. Even though I can hardly afford it I consent. There is $350.00 now or much more soon if I don't.
I don't want to be in an accident, like Christopher West. Chris was on his Honda Scooter, in the 'right of way' when a lady in a big old four wheeled monster ran him down, turned in front of him and bounced him off her hood and windshield. The scooter is easier fixed than the scootee. Five fractures in the right hand and arm, one in the left, and his cute little "Snoopy" Helmet (small brain-bucket as Rich calls it) and Goggles are all scraped up too
It was there at the Chatterbox on Monday where we all heard the ghastly and sordid tale. I took pictures (what else) so the images and the consequences of them were still fresh in my mind when I was walking back from Conseco yesterday after lunching with the Missus, and nearly got Chris Wested by an SUV that didn't stop, or even slow much before turning on the red-light two feet from me in the crosswalk. I reprint the e-mail open letter I sent to a few select friends and family on my return to work yesterday. An open letter to the rectum in the Murano who almost ran over me...
Dear Sir,
I apologize unreservedly for being in the crosswalk during the timed "walk" interval this afternoon by Conseco fieldhouse, causing you and your traveling companion to have to come to an almost complete stop at the red light presented to your lanes of traffic. I further apologize for for the mental anguish you incurred incoming up with the epithet to describe my transgression. I will, at my first convenience implore the Indiana state house and local governing bodies upon your behalf to make your travel path as pedestrian unencumbered as possible in the future. That and the pesky stopping on red lights that is so antiquated as to be barbarous. I wish only that I (the jackass) had known you were traveling that way before you slammed on the brakes entering the apex of your turn from the second lane over, I could have possibly ran the
Chuck Pace
Pedestrian (or is that equestrian) jackass
I don't think I'd load into the back of a truck as easily as the scooter. Word(s) out, my brothahs and sistah's
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Heat. Growing. Exhaustion. Race. Frustration
08/13/07 07:18 AM | Permalink
Looking South and close ups of the flowering succulents. Chuck Pace © 2007
Records fall as heat rises. The onslaught of +90° days continues. Safety says stay inside, common sense agrees. Still, I mowed the yard around the garden at 9:40 this morning (one of the areas that gets consistent watering) to avoid some of the heat. Still when I was done I was as damp as an unwrung wash rag. Making the most of the day I do some gardening too, and I spend a little time with John and Abigail Adams through the eye and hand of David McCullough's Pulitzer Prize Winning account. Everything was on time for the Race at Watkins Glen. Everything was going well for me, in fact I should have finished 2nd. I had a super fantasy team put together and at lap 75 was tied with Guy Tucker for 1st place (he had Tony, I had Denny both had 155 points at the time) with 854 points when Martin Truex Jr. got Juan loose going into turn 1. This took the 42 (Juan), the 29 (Happy) and the 31(Jeff Burton) out of contention and caused a 25 minute red flag situation to clean the track of Juan's diffefential/rear end grease. I ended with an unofficial 21st place. That will change when they remove Bill Elliott points and award Boris Said points on the site, yahudiebootie will drop below me. Well that's why they run the races I guesses.
As you can see, I had me wittle camera with me outside yesterday. There is a little more news and no more time. I guess we will have to meet here tomorrow at the same time, or a little earlier. What do ya say?
Five Days
08/10/07 06:43 AM | Permalink
Rock and Roll, that seems to be the theme here. Well if there can be a theme after 5 days without a post. Sure there is always a theme of one sort or another. With me there is music. That is the constant, that is the thread that sews my experiences together, I always have a song in my head if not in my heart, so if I haven't been up early every morning posting my petty or petit thoughts, (like Sony and Cher) the beat has still gone on. My first thought when I launched this software was that it had been five days since my last post, instantly I had Gene Vincent's Rock-a-billy masterpiece (one of may for Gene and the Blue Caps) in my now noggin' So as I sit here typing into the mobile command center, I'm listening to Robert Gordon's version of Five Days from his album "Fresh Fish Special" on the World Headquarters "Main Frame". I apologize for my absence, but in truth not much has transpired in that absence worthy of postage. I have missed a day and a half of work with an intestinal distress most foul, and have stayed within' twenty feet of my spare or master bathroom ever since. While the most unpleasant part has passed (many times) I was able to dispatch Young Harry Potter, at least the tome and volume provided me by Ms. Rowling. I can say that the last page says it all, the type face was Adobe Garamond. That is the only secret I will reveal.
So Rock on Kiddies, I've gotten to the conclusion of this week (well within one day that is) and the Harry Potter series, but soundtrack is far from over. If anything important, interesting of fun happens I will break into for a station break, and throw it on the web for your eyes, ears or emotional perusal. "Five Days, Five Days" Gene Vincent. For more information on Gene Vincent Click the provided link. Start that toe a 'tappin'.
(One day, two days, three, four, five)
A-that's how long that she's been gone
And that's a long time
Five days, five days
Since you walked out the door
Won't you please come home
I couldn't stand five more
Well the first day after she left me
I laughed and told my friends
That he'd be back before
The sun is settin' low again
Five days, five days
Since you walked out the door
Won't you please come home
I couldn't stand five more
Well, the second day after she left me
I started to have my doubts
I wondered if she was comin' back
Really had checked out
Five days, five days
Since you walked out the door
Won't you please come home
I couldn't stand five more
(One, two, three, four, five days more)
Well, the third day after she left me
I started to watch the door
Before the day was over
I began to walk the floor
Five days, five days
Since you walked out the door
Won't you please come home
I couldn't stand five more
Well the fourth day after she left me
I really began to sweat
She should have been back days ago
But she ain't got back yet
Five days, five days
Since you walked out the door
Won't you please come home
I couldn't stand five more
(One, two, three, four, five days more)
"Hey Rock, Rock, Rock Cat Rock, That's Five Cats Down and Five to Go!"
So Rock on Kiddies, I've gotten to the conclusion of this week (well within one day that is) and the Harry Potter series, but soundtrack is far from over. If anything important, interesting of fun happens I will break into for a station break, and throw it on the web for your eyes, ears or emotional perusal. "Five Days, Five Days" Gene Vincent. For more information on Gene Vincent Click the provided link. Start that toe a 'tappin'.
A-that's how long that she's been gone
And that's a long time
Five days, five days
Since you walked out the door
Won't you please come home
I couldn't stand five more
Well the first day after she left me
I laughed and told my friends
That he'd be back before
The sun is settin' low again
Five days, five days
Since you walked out the door
Won't you please come home
I couldn't stand five more
Well, the second day after she left me
I started to have my doubts
I wondered if she was comin' back
Really had checked out
Five days, five days
Since you walked out the door
Won't you please come home
I couldn't stand five more
(One, two, three, four, five days more)
Well, the third day after she left me
I started to watch the door
Before the day was over
I began to walk the floor
Five days, five days
Since you walked out the door
Won't you please come home
I couldn't stand five more
Well the fourth day after she left me
I really began to sweat
She should have been back days ago
But she ain't got back yet
Five days, five days
Since you walked out the door
Won't you please come home
I couldn't stand five more
(One, two, three, four, five days more)
"Hey Rock, Rock, Rock Cat Rock, That's Five Cats Down and Five to Go!"
Buy None, Get 3 Free, for Four
08/05/07 12:29 AM | Permalink
General Admission Comp Ticket.
Live Rock and Roll music two nights in a row, four bands no charge. Do I live a charmed life or what? Thanks to Tom Batista for getting the tickets to victory field for Kay and three of her friends, it turns out that Sue Hobbs, Jenni and I are the friends she chose to share this particular evenings enterprise with. A grand and wonderful evening even with the rains that started after headlining Counting Crows took the stage. I was hoping for a encore with "Rain King", Kay was waiting for "Einstein on the Beach" which Wikipedia says they have never played for a live audience.
The Venue and Collective Soul
Hey, I saw Collective Soul, Man! Lead singer Ed Roland said I should tell my friends, I saw Collective Soul, Man! So, I saw Collective Soul, Man! I have as much of their music as I do of The Counting Crows, I have their album Dosage. They have a new album coming in few weeks August 23 to be exact to be titled Afterwords. They put on a good show, I recognized almost every tune they did, more than the other two bands. Ed also broke up a fight and made peace in the audience, I was impressed.
Live and The Counting Crows
Sue didn't think she'd recognize any LIVE songs except "Lightning Crashes", but there were more that she knew like "I Alone," All Over You," Selling The Drama" and "Heaven." The funny thing is I said I bet you recognize at least five of them, these are the five. She said after their set that she would have to go get more Live music now. I agreed, I need more too. They have a new album coming out next Spring.
Adam Duritz and the Counting Crows were great, even if Jenni and I did have bail from the stands when the rain got too strong I recognized about as many songs from them as I did Live. Their next album Saturday Nights, Sunday Mornings should hit the retail and iTunes shelves in November, and we got a sneak preview "Washington Square" the opening song of their set from the quieter side of the album. Looks like Kay may have to buy a second or third CD this year, such extravagances. Good show good friends.
Watch Your Fluxxing Step!
08/03/07 07:46 PM | Permalink
The God-Clouds: from work parking lot at work 8:11 AM. Chuck Pace©2007
First Friday! Gallery Friday. Flux Gallery Opening. I was the first one there, but that was because I got there before it opened. Therefore I stayed in the Bimmer and spent a little time with Harry, Hermione and Ron at the beginning of chapter 11 of the Deathly Hallows, I don't think I'm giving anything away to mention that I am a very slow reader. So anyway I pulled into the lot at about 5:40. At about 5:53 DeAnne opened the door and said, "Hey honey!" I said, "When do you open?" she said, "Right now," I said I'd be in in a couple of minutes, then she said, "O.K., 6 o'clock."
Patrick W. Gillespie: The Body's Half Second Mind Postcard from Flux. DeAnne Roth © 2007
The God-Clouds: from I-65/I-70 Northbound 7:01 PM. Chuck Pace©2007
Jenni missed another days employment endeavor due to an enraged sciatic nerve in her back. She headed to the Doctors office for the second time in a week, and this time he decided that instead of stool samples, and kidney and liver function tests that it was her sciatic nerve that was getting on her very last nerve (see it's not always me, or people from Ohio).
If Patrick were wearing his sensory depriving suit yesterday he would have missed the sunrise and sunset God-Clouds. Like Jenni missed a whale of a good Rock show.
Flourishing
08/02/07 06:18 AM | Permalink
Psst! It's behind you, look behind you. Chuck Pace © 2007
I have nothing on Farmer Rich or Miss Kay in the produce departments, I don't have a market in my little horse shoe shaped garden, but I am experiencing some green thumb success this year. My peppers are starting to look like a bumper crop, Most of my tomato plants are near to bursting with green infant fruits, and (as I sit here typing) Jenni just came in with a small handful of tomato pie volunteers.
We have stationed Charlie as a guard to the gardens after an intruder alert, where we found this wicked looking potato bug (or something) on a pepper plant. 
I stopped in at the Chatterbox the last two evenings for a traffic thinning interval only, and talked to DeAnne about my quickly healing toe injury on tuesday, and Brooks and Jack about huge quantities of nothing. John Underwood from Purdue was there last night with Nephew Frank, so we caught up a bit. Then the unthinkable happened. I left before Brooks.
Will it Go Round in, Accolades?
08/01/07 06:19 AM | Permalink
So that took to long. There are questions. There are problems, there are broken or at least bruised promises. There wounds that are healing, there are memories lost.
That was some Race Weekend. The sum of the experiences has been fatigue. By race day on Sunday the toll of sleeping (poorly) in a strange motor-home, partying with my friends, bumping around in a Jeep and eating mostly meat while staying up until 1:30 or 2 in the morning made me feel like an 89 year old. There was no way I could do a post on Monday, I barely made it out of bed. Tuesday? Trash pick-up day, and I was recovering from my first ever attack by a Cheetah! PBA experience Cheetah that is. Swimming in oils at the front of the lanes, but the shortest pattern down the lane. I took most of my slight arc off the ball, but that leads to a lot of Brooklyn or head-pin hits. I struggled. Rich struggled, we both hobbled and ached from trackitis, lost the first two games, rallied back to take the last two decisively and wound up winning the series too. Today I was able to get up before the sun.
Congratulations to Phil Gibson on his Nascar Fantasy win with team, Juan Pablo's good ole boy bitch slap. I didn't even have a full team, and no way to make one at the track without the mobile Headquarters. Congratulations to Phil Gibson on meeting the new love of his life, His new Triumph SpeedTriple motorcycle which he picked up yesterday at lunch. She's Smooth.
Congratulations to Tony Stewart, for winning his second Brickyard 400, that was some racin' Rocket. We (Travis, Rich and I ) went to Victory lane (or as close as we could get) and chanted with the other fans but only got as close as being under the crosswalk when Tony walked by. I've had a song in my head since Friday at the Truck race when it seemed for a while that it would be rained out as we sat in the stands for 5 and a half hours, Billy Preston's "Will it Go Round in Circles" and I' gonna sing it with my friends.
Tony (not really the Bad Guy) you are way over my head! Chuck Pace © 2007
Will it go round in circles Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky Will it go round in circles Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky
I've got a lil' story ain't got no moral Let the bad guy win every once in a while I've got a lil' story ain't got no moral Let the bad guy win every once in a while
Will it go round in circles Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky Will it go round in circles Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky
Lastly but far from least. Congratulations to DeAnne Roth, for being Nuvo's Pick for Best Bartender in Indianapolis and for owning Flux Gallery, Nuvo's pick for Best Gallery, things most of us Chatterbox regulars already knew. She is in a class all by herself. She is class all by herself, and she has worked incredibly hard for everything she has. I'm a fan, and a friend and am continually awed.
That was some Race Weekend. The sum of the experiences has been fatigue. By race day on Sunday the toll of sleeping (poorly) in a strange motor-home, partying with my friends, bumping around in a Jeep and eating mostly meat while staying up until 1:30 or 2 in the morning made me feel like an 89 year old. There was no way I could do a post on Monday, I barely made it out of bed. Tuesday? Trash pick-up day, and I was recovering from my first ever attack by a Cheetah! PBA experience Cheetah that is. Swimming in oils at the front of the lanes, but the shortest pattern down the lane. I took most of my slight arc off the ball, but that leads to a lot of Brooklyn or head-pin hits. I struggled. Rich struggled, we both hobbled and ached from trackitis, lost the first two games, rallied back to take the last two decisively and wound up winning the series too. Today I was able to get up before the sun.
Congratulations to Phil Gibson on his Nascar Fantasy win with team, Juan Pablo's good ole boy bitch slap. I didn't even have a full team, and no way to make one at the track without the mobile Headquarters. Congratulations to Phil Gibson on meeting the new love of his life, His new Triumph SpeedTriple motorcycle which he picked up yesterday at lunch. She's Smooth.
Congratulations to Tony Stewart, for winning his second Brickyard 400, that was some racin' Rocket. We (Travis, Rich and I ) went to Victory lane (or as close as we could get) and chanted with the other fans but only got as close as being under the crosswalk when Tony walked by. I've had a song in my head since Friday at the Truck race when it seemed for a while that it would be rained out as we sat in the stands for 5 and a half hours, Billy Preston's "Will it Go Round in Circles" and I' gonna sing it with my friends.
Tony (not really the Bad Guy) you are way over my head! Chuck Pace © 2007
Will it go round in circles Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky Will it go round in circles Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky
I've got a lil' story ain't got no moral Let the bad guy win every once in a while I've got a lil' story ain't got no moral Let the bad guy win every once in a while
Will it go round in circles Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky Will it go round in circles Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky
Lastly but far from least. Congratulations to DeAnne Roth, for being Nuvo's Pick for Best Bartender in Indianapolis and for owning Flux Gallery, Nuvo's pick for Best Gallery, things most of us Chatterbox regulars already knew. She is in a class all by herself. She is class all by herself, and she has worked incredibly hard for everything she has. I'm a fan, and a friend and am continually awed.
Week of Speed, the Hook-up
07/27/07 07:30 AM | Permalink
Silver Crown, Craftsman Trucks, Busch Series all at ORP this week. Then the Bricks and the big dogs at IMS. Racin' in Indiana, international spotlight, good old boys, South americans, Aussies, Canadians, we've got it all. This I'm absorbing as much as one man can this extended speed week. With much thanks to David Gansert, the official photographer of ORP, who snagged VIP parking, and event tickets for each of the events there for our party. The IMS was already taken care of ticket wise, as John Qualkenbush has four season tickets, which we purchased. One for me, one for Jody, one for Rich and the final one for little buddy, Travis. Time does not permit more, and I will not be posting from the tracks this weekend. See you all on Wednesday.
Speedy out.
Speedy out.
Tripping on the Road to Sanity
07/26/07 09:48 AM | Permalink
Last Saturday, Jenni and I were considering going to Franklin at 4:30 to attend our first Hoosier Chapter meeting of the BMW CCA (Car Club of America). I had gotten an e-mail from the Hoosier Chapter folks on Friday (which required reservation and rsvp by Thursday, but don't get me started on that), and fired off an early AM e-mail stating that we might just show up. Well, we hemmed and hawed around the house until 4:00 and never got a response back from the CCA peeps, so I made an executive decision, alternate "no real destination" Road Trip instead. Like all executive decisions, it was met with a little scorn and criticism from the legislative and judicial branches, but with the constitution (of an ox) on my side I won the day, by order of law. Geek hardware (Laptop, GPS tracking device, digital cameras and mini tripods) were packed into the Deutsche Madchen, and ready to go.
I've just saved that "new" portion. The following is an attempt recreate much of what was lost of last Sundays crashed and lost recounting of this road trip.
It was late in December, the sky turned to snow All round the day was going down slow Night like a river beginning to flow I felt the beat of my mind go Drifting into time passages Years go falling in the fading light Time passages Buy me a ticket on the last train home tonight
Well I'm not the kind to live in the past The years run too short and the days too fast The things you lean on are the things that don't last Well it's just now and then my line gets cast into these Time passages There's something back here that you left behind Oh time passages Buy me a ticket on the last train home tonight
"Time passages", not the song by Al Stewart and Peter White, but a lapse of 18 days to be 'nearly exact', given the nature of time.
North face of the Boone County Courthouse in Lebanon Indiana
Anyway, a little over two weeks after the Crambone road-trip a really nice quiet Saturday presented Jenni and I with the option of going to a party we were tentatively invited to, or of going on a country drive. As mentioned above, GPS and laptop were on hand and we started simple by going to Culver's at 56th and Post in Benjamin Harrison State Park. Next I decided to head west and north, and soon we were headed into Noblesville on Allisonville Road. Skirting the Courthouse Square, we headed west again on IN-32, and didn't stop again until we driven through Westfield, Eagleton, Jolliettville and Gadsden and were at the Boone County Courthouse in Lebanon. A few photo's later we decided that south was our new direction and we hopped onto a nice, winding, well maintained IN-39. Not more than 5 miles south we stopped for another photo opp. An old abandoned Grocery and Petrol station that last saw use when
A very pleasant five hour, 132 mile trip, averaging about 30 mpg and costing about as much as a 1st run movie at the Kerasotes theatre, not counting the dinner at Culver's which was actually almost four dollars cheaper than two Blue Icees, large popcorn and a bag of Reese's pieces at the movies.
Northwest corner of the Hendricks County Courthouse, Danville Indiana
So if we'd gone to see the latest Die Hard movie, we would have been entertained for half the amount of time, would have spent more, wouldn't have spoken to each other and would have been home looking at each other for almost three hours with less to talk about. I think we made the most of the day and had a great time driving and talking. Hey, the car radio wasn't even on.
Chuck Pace © 2007
Give me the keys, I'm Going (Ich Gehe) !