I found this unpublished blog I wrote some 4 or 5 weeks ago.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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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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The day was eventful, the night full of events. Jenni and Jessica drove to B-Town to be stirred at the Blue Bird. Ingrid Michelson was playing in the tiny, confined, general admission venue, and Jen and Jes were a mess trying to see the stage or hear the sets. In fact it was so disheartening that the dynamic duo made way to Indy before the marque Michelson made a moment of musical memories.
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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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

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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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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If you don't use it you lose it. That applies to everything. In the end it is all just an exercise in futility, but the trick is to prolong the exercise, to postpone or better yet to shape the inevitable futility to your will or whimsey.
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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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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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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Just like summer gives way to fall, and fall gives way to winter, Thanksgiving gives way to the shopping holiday rush. Like many previous years the economy is a factor, and people are concerned about finances, and like many years the camera industry is less affected then many others industries. The reason? People still take vacations and have kids and pets and milestone moments in their lives that need validation and remembering. Kids still graduate, (though maybe not as smart as in the past) people still get married, babies are still being born, and memories are still being remembered with the help of silver halide chemical emulsions (thought not as common as in the past) or in the form of pixels and memory cards, CD's and DVD's. Newer technologies evolve and push the older ones out of the way faster than Darwin could have ever dreamed. Ordinary people strive to be near the leading edge of the those emergent technologies. For proof just look at cellphones and computers as other "today's hot ticket, yesterday's news" segments that are eating themselves like the Ouroborus, Socratic snake.
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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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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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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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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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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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.

Chuck Pace ©2009 
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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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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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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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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.

Chuck Pace ©2009 
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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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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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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?

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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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'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.
Speaking of the new camera and gear, as Jenni was getting ready to pull out of the driveway this Saturday at 8:00 we witnessed some of our bird population in courtship rituals at our garage attic vent. I ran in and got the 300mm lens from my new camera gear and went to work snapping the determined male trying to convince a disinterested "chick" while two other suitors waited in a nearby tree (sounds an awfully lot like my entire High School experience).
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!!!

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.
Maggie was in and I captured a small part of her soul with my magical ways, then there was Chris West who got a little tongue tied at my good fortune, and Crystal Rehder and her Wunder-Hound. Next I walked to Outword Bound to get NRG tix for Saturday, and back past the Fire Station on Mass Ave. On the way back I got a shot of some Mass FD fellows enjoying nice weather and not having to save houses, kittens in trees or any of the such. And Lo, I saw that spring is trying ever so hard to return to Mass Avenue and Indiana.

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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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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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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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 day of thawing out in central Indiana is a somber one for the Jackson, Mason, Seifert and Pace families. Funeral services for Robert "Bobby" Jackson of New Palestine Indiana are today from 3 to 8. Bobby was Jenni's Uncle, a perpetually pleasant man who loved family greatly and was always charitable and fun to be around. Bobby was a snow bird and was staying in Florida where his Niece Susie Siefert was visiting when he started complaining of severe internal pains. He went over a week in the hospital there before it was decided he should be brought to Indianapolis for treatment. He arrived the day of the big snow the 12+ inch snow. I took over two hours for the ambulance to get him from the airport to Community North Hospital, and he was in very bad shape before that. The Prognosis was bad, two or three days, and he passed before the second day back in his home state. Jenni's mother Peggy Mason is the only surviving Jackson sibling, Sandy her older sister passed from cancer a few years ago. Sandy lived in Morristown Southeast of New Palestine and the services were held at the same funeral home as Uncle Bobby's will be today. Jenni and I miss both of them, Bobby's deep caring voice and sense of humor and both of their charitable giving natures. It is a sadder world without them and they will be remembered with joy.
Chuck Pace ©2009 
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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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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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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 whole show. Back to the CD for a sec, I don't believe there was one "hit" here in the states from this album, yet I do like it much. I have eclectic musical tastes at times but I don't think this requires eclectic leanings. It is just good music with clever lyrical content. I will say that the song "That's Why People Fall in Love" has Ofra Haza singing background on it, now that's eclectic and esoteric. In fact I bet other than my wife, none of my regular readers have a clue who that is (was). Oops there was a clue.


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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Friday the 26th was a busy day at the store. Not a lot of returns though. After work I had to stop at the Chatterbox to pay my tab for the sing-a-long, when we left there it was chaos and crowd so I promised to come back and remunerate on a later date. I did and then I thought about going to the Nap-Town Roller Girl party afterwards at Birdy's but I was just to beat from a season of sell, sell, sell. Besides Jenni wanted to go shopping and we were waiting for our care package from Florida and Meredith and Michael. So I headed home and she headed out. Now I can tell you that if a UPS package is tracked and it says it will be delivered on the 29th, it's not going to be delivered on the 26th even if it is at the Indy hub. We had decided on Christmas day that we would head south to Jenni's folks home and have a late Christmas stay with them two days later, over the weekend. Jenni's brother John and his new bride Jennifer were there too, and with our arrival all of the Mason sib's were home for the holidays. The drive down was rainy through the middle of Kentucky but by the time we got to Tennessee it was sunny and 75°. There was talk of putting the top down on the convertible for the last thirty miles, but in the end we just left it up and drove with the windows down instead. My interest in history was piqued by a historical marker on TN 25 and we stopped so I could read it. It was a little graveyard and very interesting in design too. We stopped and stretched our legs and I documented a bit.
Before you knew it we were gathered in the living room or dining room snacking and waiting for the other package presenting parties to participate in pleasant plunder. Jenni and I had found some way cool robot toys at the toy store on Mass Ave and got one each for Hank and Logan, the nephews. They were a hit. The whole family had a great christmas and it was too bad that we only had a day to spend. John and Jennifer headed back east to Knoxville after all the presents were doled out and the sun had set, which meant that when the time to bed down Jenni and I would get the guest bedroom at David an Laura's (Sissy to the family) about a quarter of a mile's drive from the homestead. Sunday came too soon and we all gathered once again at the Parental palace for food and farewells. I got to watch the first half of the Titans at the Colts game before it was time to roll north with the warmer weather behind us. The trip north saw us driving and listening to the second half of the Colts game and then the Dolphins /Jets game.

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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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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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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Wow! we are in the home stretch now. I am only 4 and a half days from a day off. THE day off, the Holiday off. It is amazing how slowly some days can go, when the balance of them is nothing but a blur. Jenni has been going nuts on the buying thing, I have been sick and working so much I haven't done a lot of that (yet). The prognosis is a wet Christmas Eve, and a Sunny Christmas day. That takes about a third of the Holiday songs right off the table for the un-official sing-a-long at the Box with the Lovely (and talented) Jane Pozek. The "Lovely" thing is official by the way, it is printed on the Chatterbox table toppers of upcoming events, so you know it is true! Janey will be playing all your holiday favorites with her little digits (actually they are long and slender, see how they caress that wine glass in the photo), I digress. Favorites like: The Little Bummer Boy, Frost E the Blow Man (had a Very Long Fingernail), The Empty Tip Bucket Blues, Baby it's Cold (by this window) and so so many more.
Chuck Pace ©2008 
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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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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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Where do I begin? It might have began when she moved into the apartment across the hall in the "Yellow House" across from "Old" Herron School of Art at 1701 N. Pennsylvania St. We were friends for over three years before the day. You might say I began when she said yes. You might say we began when we each said I do. By then I was twenty three, she was twenty four and now its 25.
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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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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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 

Wednesday Morning in panoramic

and the first shot look at the snow in the atmosphere it never made to terra firma.
Chuck Pace ©2008 

Saturday Night with Rachel Shirley at Irish Fest '08

Time is an amazing thing. I may have mentioned time before. It is hard to believe that it was a week ago tomorrow when a three day pass was the way to fun and entertainment. Indy's Irish fest has come and gone again. It was a packed weekend, that wasn't a three day weekend. I worked on Friday, then Rich and I went to the Irish fest at Military park. We met up with compatriot and coworker Michael Wallace Wilson. This is nothing new, we've been doing this for four years straight. Friday night we acquainted ourselves with the layout and locations of the vendors and the all important beer trucks. Friday night was over almost before it began, and other than food and a glass or two of Guinness the only purchase I made was a Black Sheep tie. Being thoughtful citizens and wise beyond our years (even Wilson's) we reserved an Embassy Suite for our Saturday night party and partiers.

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.

Then for most of us the last stop of the evening was Sneaky Pete's Irish Peat Bog cooking concession, I've blogged about Pete in the past. Another great Irish fest was in the bag and our core, short Jenni who had already left and Wilson who decided to head out instead, marched to the Suite of a different drunk. No, that was an illusionary phrase I was not to far into my cups on this evening.
Chuck Pace ©2008 
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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.

Chuck Pace ©2008 
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The Rolling Stone Bridge 1915
Due to the recent Day of Labor federal holiday, my weekend gave me an additional day of slumber. Jenni and I are not accustomed to a lot of slumber, so we hit the highways and byways and even the graveled country ways of Putnam and Parke County in search of a few of the Worlds Greatest concentration of Covered Bridges. With well over 30 to choose from, but not nearly as many hours to seek them out, we hit eleven of those nearest to Indianapolis. The first four were actually in Putnam County. The first two near Bainbridge Indiana were the Rolling Stone (pictured above on the right) and Bakers Camp Bridges built in 1915 and 1901 respectively. Then two more further south on either side of Greencastle were the Dunbar and the Oakalla Bridges. We left home at 10:00 am and by the time we had knocked the first four off our list of musty must sees it was already quarter after one. All four were in use and in good shape and not at all musty that was just an illusionary tactic I took to further the dialog.
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.
Our next mission was to get into Rockville for a dinner break. Even though the bridges them selves were free for the viewing the Sun was exacting a toll. By the bank sign in Rockville we learned that it was now 94° and we decided to cut short our tour and just hit three or four more bridges on the way back. The next three on the list are the Crooks, the McAllister (where I spotted a giant Sunflower field), and the Neet Bridge which has a neat little mall around it and is also closed to all but foot traffic. The Crooks Bridge (1856) has a bit of a lean to it and is cabled to a giant tree. I drove through as Jenni stood outside and captured it on video.


The Bridgeton Bridge, built 2006 Bridgeton Indiana.
The very last bridge was Bridgeton's Bridge. A new construction bridge in a town not unlike Mansfield (except that there is a population of corporeal cohabitants). The Bridgeton bridge was built in 2006 (150 years after Crooks') and is very nice. Then it was a quest for speed and we hit major highways and eventually an interstate to make it back to the World Headquarters by 6:45.
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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F-22A Raptor
Sunday's Indianapolis Air Show at Mt. Comfort was another stunning success. The F-22A Raptor is more than amazing, it is the most technically advanced war bird ever. Seeing the maneuverability and raw power is awe inspiring. Then when I heard the show announcer say that it weighs 68 thousand pounds my jaw dropped. This beast weighs 34 tons? This brick that can troll at 80 knots, and can turn completely around and go the other direction in about the space of a city block has the same weight as 100 new BMW 330i's.

The Lucas Oil biplane was impressive, as were the Fagen Ethanol biplane and the wing walker and the historic War-Birds. Now I only have to wait another 12 month to see the next air show, the lucky 13th.
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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South End of the Colts New Home. Chuck Pace © 2008

Saturday was a busy, busy day. There was time off to be observed, there were presents for presentation, there was scrambling and there were cues to be taken and stood in and stadiums to tour with wife and the Novak's.  Barb and Mike Novak procured a couple of extra tour the new facility tickets for Jenni and I and Rich and JD.  The place is really nice inside and so much more roomy. I can't wait until I can se it with a more modest crowd on a game day.  
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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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