Sign of the Tim's, and Times. Chuck Pace ©2006
Of all the places to get a cramp. Moving, and lifting, carrying and exertion. I'm not surprised to have a strain or cramp, it's just the location that eludes explanation. I went to bed with an excruciating pain in the neck. When the muscles or tendons on the right side, that go from jawbone area to under the collar bone cramp, what do you do? What causes these to cramp n the first place? Yesterday I joined a small cadre of helpers and movers in extracting Ms. Connie Ziegler from N. Central St, and placing her and her belongings in Fountain Square, or Girl-Land as Kay has dubbed it. Among the heros of the moving caravan elite I give my first nod to Mike Lamm. Mike was one of the very first to arrive on the scene, along with Malene Holder, Dan Hook, DeAnne, Peter Park and Mark Haggerty (with flatbed trailer) and of course the girl of the day, Connie. Mike picked up the Longs donuts on the way in, and a 16x20 framed piece of artwork on the way out. Barely even cramping his style. My first order of business after arriving was to assess the amount of items to be moved and loaded, the first thing I successfully loaded was a Long's donut. Travis and Liz arrived shortly thereafter, and Travis also successfully loaded a donut, thank god for Lamm and Longs! The core of shakers had Deanne's truck half full by the time Kay, Rich and Nicci arrived, and in less than 90 minutes we had removed all but two cats and a bedroom closet of clothing from the premises. A short trek to Girl-land, another hour to insert all of Connie's worldly possessions (mostly chairs, for Connie is a big fan of sitting) into her quaint little home.
Beers and fellowship ensued as we all tried to unravel the mystery of how to order pizza, without phonebooks. Dan came to the rescue, and Dugout pizza was soon devoured. Before the pizza arrived Deanne lead a small contingency to Nicci's to view the much improved back yard, and the much excited to have company Duke. Back at the Ziegler Zanadu, the 'zza had arrived and was soon consumed with zeal and zest. Kay's brother Mark sans facial hair arrived in time to praise the hard work and to socialize. Soon the crowd dispersed (a major function of a crowd), and we left Mark H. and Connie to the task of putting her life back together, one chair at a time.
Back home myself (and nobody else) I took a few minutes in the pool, then started mowing the yard. When the mower ran out of gas it also expired, literally. For the next half hour I attempted to restart it, applying gas, new spark plug, cleaning the fuel and air filters and adjusting all the carburation elements that will adjust, it wil choke and fires a few times then wheeze to a stop, so my yard looks half finished, in it's half finished state (coincidence?). Congrats to Connie, I can't wait to see where she puts all those chairs, and how she arranges the rest of the roost.
Chuck "Pain in the neck" Pace out.

Duke says, "Hi! hi, hi! (slobber), scratch me, Hey is that thing edible?"
Chuck Pace © 2006

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We all agreed it's not the same moving without Brooks, there's more room and more pizza.

"Wait, Wait",said Kay! Coat Hooks at Welliver's. Chuck Pace ©2006
Friday Night. Fine dining night. Like so many of these adventures, it of course started at the Chatterbox. But it didn't take place there. It didn't even take place in the same county as the Chatterbox. I-70 road trip to Hagerstown, roughly 61 miles from the Chatterbox. A caravan from downtown Indy to downtown Hagarstown. Several vehicles leaving at similar times. Jenni and I took the Bimmer and had to stop for gas at the BP just off the Post road exit. So we were not in any culinary car club cluster, but on our own. It was and interesting and mostly uneventful trip, at least until the Overnight Semi-tractor pulling two trailers up ahead of us started trying to drive off the breakdown land and getting into the rumble strips, which makes quite a din as 13 wheels chatter over those at 75 mph. The driver yanked the rig back into the prescribed traffic lanes and kept it there for a quarter of a mile or so then repeated the process again. At this point Jenni said, "I don't care how much you have to speed, Let's get past this guy." I got over as far left as I could and started bringing up the revs to get around the multi-ton three piece snake dance in the right hand and breakdown lanes, just as I go got even ( I swore I'd get even, they were warned) with the back of 'train' he started coming over from his latest adventure in Rumblevile. He got his cab over the center dividing line so I moved over and caught the rumble strips myself, then he was just a diminishing memory.

One of our waitresses at Welliver's , I think her name was Dolly.
By the time we hit the exit ramp for Indiana 1 and Hagerstown my bladder was singing "Here Comes the Flood" from the first solo Peter Gabriel album. On the exit ram I saw the Culy Jeep and the DiNicola convertible off to the side. I pulled in behind, hoping there were no mechanical problems, Rich walked back to me and said apparently Mark Smith won't drive over the 70 mph speed limit, so we're going to wait here for a couple of minutes, I said that I was going up and to the Shell station at the exit to do some bladder maintenance and would see them at Wellivers, the destination of this tour. By the time Jenni and I finished our urinary duties and debugged the windshield Mark had come along and that part of the caravan had gone on. Soon we were parking just two blocks from Wellivers at 40 E. main St. and joining up with the crew from Indy; Richard Plath, Jack and Joan Green, Tom Woody, Pam Walker, Ed Sipes, Rich Culy, Kay Niedenthal, Elizabeth and Travis DiNicola, Melissa Shoffner, Scott Proctor, Mike Wilson and the aforementioned Mark Smith. Dick and Martha Culy, who live just outside of Hagerstown met us there, and Kimberly (Proctor) Small, Scott's sister arrived to complete our entourage. We were cleared to eat by stair traffic control and hit the buffet runways like a squadron of hungry black sheep. I can't even describe the food. but it is worth the 120 plus round tip, I promise. The return trip is always less harried and more relaxed, bellies full don't have the urgency of bellies empty. Jenni and I, Mel and Rich and his team (Scott Proctor and Mike Wilson) each took our three separate vehicles back via the National Highway, US 40, three miles south of I-70 for a more casual, drive back. I failed to take any group photos, but every time I had a hand on camera Kay would pop up uttering "Wait!" It was a good night. Yum.

One for the Son-in-Law

Chuck Pace © 2006

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We all agreed it's not the same Chatterdining without Brooks, there's more room and more food.

Her lightly snored breaths come as regular as the steamy exhalations of an old locomotive on a siding. Chuff, two, three, four Chuff two three four. I could hear the tick, tick, tick of the cheap timex watch in the other room. The traffic on the street outside, just around the back of the house was a steady light rumble with an occasional whoosh, and the rattle of bass cannons. Motorcycles. Trucks. This wasn't just going to be insomnia, this was going to be epic.

Two hours earlier I went to bed. No lights, no candles. No company.
I lay there, face down and to the side on two pillows, half on and half off one under my left shoulder, trying to clear my mind, find the sleep that's been eluding me for days. Inwardly staring into the mental abyss, things popping in and back out like the little plastic moles at the quarter arcade. Some grab my attention for a second, others are only peripheral. What is a reever, or is it riever? Why do I care what it is or how it is spelled. Where did that thought even come from? The heat pump cycles on just outside the window. It sounds to me like an industrial floor polisher on a hospital tile floor. It runs for six and a half minutes. I don't have to look at the clock, I am a clock. It shuts off. I roll over, mangle the pillow into another shape, amoeba this time. Close my eyes and will sleep. For a few seconds I think that it is creeping in, that I'm dropping off. The mental parade of images and ideas are starting to recede into a deepening grey fog. There is just a slight, subtle, audible pattern. Then there is a growing pain in the temples and I realize I'm frowning. How can I be frowning in my sleep, or as I'm falling asleep. I have a headache, and I'm frowning in a totally dark room full of niggling little noises. Stop frowning. Relax the face muscles, deep breathes, and let a calm wash through with each breath. The headache and pain start to subside. Yeah, that's working, the noises are, they are, what? Crickets out under the heat pump, that what they are. Two, no three distinct crickets, like the Three Tenors of the insect world giving a command performance. The fireflies are no doubt flashing their luminescent abdomen in appreciation of the show. A hiss, two, three the pressurization is complete and the heat pump again cycles into life. O.K. at least that has quieted the Cavalcade of Cricket Carusos. There's just about six more minutes until that thump that signals the end of this cycle. I fade a little, I don't have to keep the time, I don't care, maybe I'll be asleep when it, Thump! There it is. Like a watermelon wrapped in a terri towel being dropped into wooden chest. No, not a watermelon, a human head. I bet that's exactly what that would sound like! Not dropped from a great height, more like almost rolled in, only dropping the last few inches. Thump! I imagine the dropper tensing up, eyes bulging, fingers splayed listening intently for any clue that he has been found out, wondering if anybody heard that thump. Yes, I did, here in the dark recesses of my overly alert mind.
She opens the door, sees from the splash of hallway light that I'm awake. "I just came to see if you were sleeping, and to tell you that I'm going to try to call Meredith before I come to bed."
"Asleep? No, oh no. Not I ," I respond too calmly, too nonchalantly.
"I don't know how long I'll be."
"I know"
"I love you."
"I know, I love you too."
"Sleep."
"O.K." Well there it is I think as the door clicks shut. I just needed her blessing and permission, I'll just be nodding off in no time now. Sarcasm? Wasted on these light deprived walls? Why bother?
I drift away again, about twenty minutes this time. She comes in and quietly dresses for bed, trying not to disturb. She goes into the bathroom without turning on the light until after the door is shut. Soft click. Later another soft click, then the door again, opening this time. Without peering through closed eyelids I let her know that she doesn't need to tread so lightly. "You should make sure that candle by Tweek is out before you come to bed, he could knock it off and before you can react the couch is in flames."
She knows, "I know, that's why I brought it with me."
I roll over and open my eyes to soft candle illumination. "You were in there a long time eight, no, nine minutes, what were you doing? Reading?" She knows better than to question my time keeping skills, even in near slumber. I am a clock.
"I was using the bathroom"
"I didn't hear the water run." How could I not hear the water run? On a night like this I can hear the water's breathy kiss goodbye as it evaporates. I could almost hear the electrons suck to a halt when she clicked off the light switch. Using the bathroom for what, I think? "Oh, o.k," I reply.
We talk for a bit, kiss a few times, then she says goodnight. Just a handful of minutes later she's at the depot, waiting for passengers to board the Slumberland Express.
Chuff, two, three, four Chuff two three four, Chuff, two, three, four Chuff two three four. Outside, two of the crickets have taken their final bows, but the impresario refuses to drop the curtain as long as one firefly still attends.

I got back up at 11:55. Started this recounting at 11:59 Tuesday night, I squeezed all the Tuesday out of that night and now it's 2:40 AM Wednesday and I am sending this to the World wide web to sleep until someone calls upon it. Oh, how envy this tome. Sleep, my sleepless ramblings, sleep.

I apologize for the lack of photos, I hope that there was no lack of images. Someone wake the Unknown Critic, it's over. The ushers are in the aisles with their wisks, and here are the last of the credits.

Written, Produced and Misdirected by
Chuck"the Zombie"Pace © 2006

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I want to thank the French for hosting their 93rd Bicycle endurance event so that an American could once again excel (I'm sure that if riding away from the fray were the competition, then the Frenchies would be undefeated). That is 8 years in a row that an American cyclist has gone to a host country and beaten the best that the hosts have to offer where they can train on all the courses for nearly a year before the next event. I'm sure that once again there will be some fal-da-ral about drug tests for the victor. I can almost guarantee that this years winner, Floyd Landis will have at least twice the testosterone levels as the last American winner. I heard on the "International" broadcast that Landis is the third American to win The Tour De France, let's see, eight American wins in a row, spanning two decades and two riders. Yep, that's a pretty good way to wag that frog, er dog. If Landis is as successful at the last American to win (Lance 'somebody') then an American should be wearing a yellow vest until the 99th running of the event, if he only as successful as the 1st American to win, Greg LeMond (1986,1989 & 1990) then he will still be one of the greatest success stories in American, nay, world cycling history. If he never wins another tour or event, Americans will still have won 55% of the the Tour de France events in the last two decades. In fact in the last 40 years France had 12 wins, the USA 11 (France's last in 1985, USA's last, Sunday) , Spain 7, Belgium 5, Denmark, Germany, Ireland, Italy and The Netherlands and each with 1.
There was the traditional visit to the Chatterbox last night. All the traditionalists were there, of the Mens' club I was the first arrival, and so got to choose the seating arrangements. Scott Proctor, a regular now that Annie has dusted her broom, was next. Then came Ed Sipes, Rich and the ladies, Jenni, Rebecca and Mel. The hot topic was state government interference in a 16 year olds decision not to go through "chemo" again, but to choose an alternative solution and program. DeAnne came out and told us to go harass David on the roof of the storage area in back of the box. Kay arrived and told Rich to "Slam Ya Mamy" wif some cookin' spices from the Big Easy. Jokes and fun and stories were told, a call was placed to Liz to see if she and Travis would be making the Hagarstown tour for intestinal fulfillment. Then home to take a (free 1 day trial) Ambien at 9:36, an hour later I was starting to notice my eyes drying out, the I drifted off, Jenni said I snored, I didn't not wake easily. The caption for this shot could be, "Hey Get away from that Wheelchair Ya Bumbz!"
Nor am I in morning mode now, I'm ricocheting off door frames can remember nothing that I've done without a concentrated effort, (I forgot how much water to add to the concentrated effort, I don't want too strong) sweating in a cool house, mmm drugs gotta getcha' some more. To show how bad my mind and efforts are off track I will reprint that previous sentence, as it appeared on the screen, pre-edited and spell checked.
"Nor am I in mornign for now, I'm richocheting o door framesber nothig th'doen withaotrated effosewating in a cool hoummm drugsott getcha' moe more." I'm either effected by the ambien, or I'm channeling a Gaelic retard. The drive in should be worth the price of admission. Well, I'll have my coffee when I get there, just like I did Yesterday, using a piece of trash to dispose of my grounds. Ground Peat? No Ground Coffee.

Chuck"the Zombie"Pace © 2006

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Ambien? Lunesta? Halcion? Sonata? Zolpedem Tartrate? I worry that I will become less sharpened in my faculties if I start taking a sleep aid. I worry that I have become less sharp in my faculties because I'm not getting enough sleep. I think I need help, but I worry that I will not be me anymore (a veritable boon to society, but not nessa me)! "Is that really nessa? I'll tell you what's nessa!"
If I become dependent on sleeping pills, then what? Plus the disclaimers scare the crap out of me, "In rare cases, bleeding from the eyes and ears may occur, some may experience impotence or other sexual side effects, ulcers, suicide (but only once) or worst of all delusions of well being". I am a rare case already. That last one, a one off, prototype, a test case. Other sexual side effects? What? I would hope that impotence would be the biggie, or enough to not take the damn pills, what OTHER side effects? Beastiality? Necrophillia? Coprophillia? Pedophillia? Lusting after the elderly? Priapism (also known as the first two years of puberty for the teen age male)? Sure let's just take hands full of pills. There's a digestable solution for every problem. Go on the Jerry Springer show.
I sit and think as I'm trying to sleep, synaptic chaos, to many connections at the brain station, a wandering mind, with an open ended boarding pass. I worry about the future a lot, no not your future, not the planet's future, the next day, what should I accomplish, what didn't I get done today that I needed to do, yesterday? Wait, today is yesterday, I've gone into the next day and I'm not asleep yet, shouldn't I be a sleep by now? these sheets are wrinkled, this pillow is too soft, hard, sideways warm. I always have so much stuff on my plate. They say in the Lunesta ads that you must have 8 hours to dedicate to sleep before taking. What if I don't? I'm a walking Zombie the next day at work? Brain dead? I'm relegated to working the front or back desk's at work? They give me a tele-marketing job at Sony? AOL? I'm a supervisor at the license branch! Obviously I don't want that!
The drawing is called "Guy with a lot on his mind", or "Bad hair day for the Con-joined twins!" Or maybe you decide and get back to me, or maybe you don't.

I hit the snooze in my sleep, is that redundant or what. Maybe they should rename that button the "Delay the Inevitable" button.
I chose purple because purple is the color of Royalty, Insanity and Barnie! Zolpedem Tartrate? I think he's been a E-bay customer of Rich's. See the mind wanders even in waking. I am awake, right? Pinch me and I'll blacken your damn eye! There's a side effect for ya! Um, I just don't like to take pills.

Chuck Pace © 2006

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I don't have very much time. I've got to turn of the TV. That isn't usually a problem, but yesterday we bought a new LCD Phillips TV, so we are finally HD ready. A new TV means an end of an Era. We've had the old one since we've lived here, it's as old as the house. Getting a new enetertainment item means re-wiring and sorting out all the old equipment. Hundreds of feet of cables, plugs and wires. Something I've needed to dig into anyway. A real nightmare, and there are bugs to be dealt with also. Lots of bugs. System upgrades. Cable and wiring upgrades. Movie upgrades. Etc. So a good deal on a TV is just the tip of the iceberg. I have to come straight home from work tonight and get back to the debugging process again. Some stuff just doesn't work right., but it will. Oh, it will.

Chuck Pace © 2006

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This is not VietNam, there are rules. Now mark it as zero, Smoke!

The FUN photo of the Urban Times gawkers (Brooks-less and Better for it!) Jeannie Kiley ©2006 (used with permission)
Well, I must have started something. Yesterday at the box Mr. William "Bill" Brooks, Publisher and Editor of the neighborhood newsletter/paper Urban Times, asked for an audience to be photographed in front of as he displayed his Beckmann Award for leadership in the Riley Area. That photo will go into the Urban Times along with a story about Brooks receiving said Award. It seems like a pretty good few weeks for Mr. Brooks. He wins The 2nd Quarter chuckpace.com Mention Meter, and gets his mug on one. Then a few days later Susie Salaz, trying to be like me was photographed with Brooks while wearing a t-shirt of her own making bearing his likeness (she had to leave her job at the City Cafe in shame after this stunt). And now even more people are emulating me! Brooks is once again recognized (largely through my efforts I feel). Can you say bandwagon? I knew that you could.
The same award, the Beckmann was given to David Andrichik last year.  The year before that I think a homeless guy know only as "Buddy" got the award, I remember he tried to sell it to me for $4. 87 but I only had $2.12 on me. It's a shame what poverty and desperation can reduce others to, and I wished I could have helped him out more, still it looks good on the mantle, and I just tell friends that I used to sometimes go by the nickname Buddy. Still the Beckmann is a major award, and big deal, the box might have came all the way from Italy it had exotic words on it which I attempt to recreate here phonetically,
Frah-Gee-Lay.

I found the picture of Susie and Brooks and the portrait of Brooks is uncanny. If you're familiar with Brooks looks, I'm sure you are saying I've seen that image before. Others are just saying yuck, Mister!, Yuck. I can't give a photo credit for this image, for two reasons I don't want the photographer to get death threats and hate mail for the rest of their lives, and I have never been told who would be so irresponsible enough to make an image like this in the first place.
There are a lot of the Mention meter regulars in that photo I noticed; Richard Plath, Travis, Jack & Joan Green, Jenni, Jody F., Melissa Gallant, Mike Wilson and some others behind the papers (including Rich Culy). We went inside to beat the heat after the Photo shots and Vanessa served us cool drinks, Rich and I stopped and talked with Jack and Joan, then Travis, Jenni beat feet early and Rich, Wilson and I, joined by Erika Embrey attempted to eat at Bazbeux, they had a 45 minute wait, so we scurried across the avenue to McNivens. Then home and on to a day off to take an eternity to do this post! While proof-reading before the upload I noticed I was getting two identical copies of the same photo at the bottom, I tried to fix it, but there is some gremlin in my system or something.
Well, I'll get that de-bugged. 'Til then.

Chuck Pace © 2006
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Count Accountability: Trouble Brews For Mention Meter
Ace Reporder (roto-reuters)
Due to an error in the exit polling data it now looks like there is to be a recount of the third quarter Mention Meter totals up to this latest date. It has been suggested that "Mike Wilson" is actually in the lead, ahead of the tied Brooks and DiNicola contenders currently shown behind the an inanimate object of the web mebmaster's affection. The Mention Meter, already under investigation by independent web watchdog agency SYBNI (Stick Your Big Nose IN) has been accused of unfair practices, and showing undue favoritism in recent months. A SYBNI spokesman said that a cruel Mention Meter incident caused Ms. Rebecca Martin of Avon Indiana unnecessary emotional stress and embarrassment, when the publisher of the Thoughtpukes/Mention Meter awarded her the 1st Quarter win on April 1st. Only to resend it the following day.
It has been further suggested that a Ms. Kay Niedenthal of Beech Grove has been "buying" mentions by providing the same publisher with caffeine free bakery treats. Neither Ms. Martin or Mr. Wilson have stepped forward and gone on record to publicly condemn the mention Meter, but they are to be contacted by a SYBNI agent in the near future. It was learned that when the investigation began Niedenthal fled to Louisiana, and has only been brought back recently.
SYBNI officials point out that she is up to her old tricks again and was seen in the company of the Thoughtpukes/Mention Meter publisher, providing "gifts and zucchini breads" upon her return from the Big Easy. We will get to the bottom of this I guarantee said the SYBNI spokesman who told us that the investigations started with an anonymous tip from an informant known only as "The Groom" who gave testimony while wearing a muppet mask.

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I just want everyone to know that I will get this figured out. I never meant to cause problems for anybody here. I was just having fun. For the record nobody from SYBNI has contacted me to get my side of the story. I am taking tomorrow off from work and will do the demanded recount and that will be final, I won't know the outcome until then, and have been asked by my lawyers via e-mail not to discuss it until there is a resolution. Why did somebody have to come along and stick their big nose in!
I just want to make a suggestion here. If everybody started giving me gifts and baked goods that would level the playing field and make the meter a true reflection of it's intention again.

A very Subdued Chuck out.

Chuck Pace © 2006
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There's Something familiar about that logo? Chuck Pace © 2006
Another night at the Chatterbox, it wasn't gonna be a long one, just another Corona Sunrise. Rich was only staying for two because he was heading to Brownsburg to help David Gansert put a new roof on his house (a project that started Saturday and continued through all three of the hottest days on the year, hitting the mid 90's). Jenni only wanted one plus a Sprite, I only planned on two, but had to have a third for a photo op with Miss Kay, recently returned from the Crescent City, the Big Easy, the soon to be "Chocolate City;" New Orleans, Louisiana. She was there with Jody and Mary Ann the same time that Travis and Liz were in Atlanta which was indeed a "Chocolate City" and hosting an event that had Liz hawking her truffles and "Best Chocolate in Town."

Nash Metropolitan/Honda S2000 hybrid Rocket one off.
When I got to the "Box" I was greeted by "cool cat" David Andrichik just outside the door. He was on the phone but before I even got to shouting distance away I noticed a very unique looking vehicle further down. David smiled as I said what is that while reaching for my camera, he said, "A Nash Metropolitan, custom roadster, do you know Sid Rust? He built it for his brother" Well I hardly slowed down, I was in route to the car. I took the three shots seen here then went back to get my beverage. Jack Green was there and I sat next to him. Soon Rich came in and I said did you see the roadster out there? Then another of my coworkers at Roberts arrived, I made the introductions to Jack and Rich, Ed Sipes, so long gone from the "box" it surprised me that DeAnne even remembered his drink of choice, of course we are talking about DeAnne "Positronic Brain, perpetual motion machine " Roth, so I don't guess I'm really surprised at all. (I do feel sorry for her about the silly middle name, what where her parents thinking?) Then Jenni showed up, then Mel (right at 6:00) next came Jody Frick who told us that she and Mary Ann Beuke had screwed up and failed to meet Kay at a certain haunted rendezvous point for a walking tour that Kay didn't really want to take, but ended up taking without the two who did. In a bayou mode we were lucky to see the "Writer Fish" (dickis waltonis, journalistia') and the Emily "Sturgeon" other denizens of the "Box" in the murky depths of the bar as well, but they merely lingered momentarily before returning to the shadow realms they inhabit.
Jenni and I headed home, Ed and Mel to McNivens.
I had an errand to run before I got home, I stopped at DiNicola Estates and delivered a couple (o.k. 12) of my business cards for them as a reminder of the web page and the mention meter contest. I know Travis has been anxious about the attention the Garden Arbor, Trellis D Nikola (see 7/13 post Christening) has been garnering, and I went to assure him that if Trellis were to capture the big prize, he would donate his proceeds to Charity, or Honesty or Chastity or some of the other exotic dancers that Travis is no longer financing. O.K. I was totally just clowning there, Travis is not the one who is or has been funding exotic dancers (nor have I for that matter) I need to clear that up now so there will be no need to makeup later. "Wink,wink"

Chuck Pace © 2006

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"Wink,wink"

The Eye of ...? Don't Look now there's a Mantis... Chuck Pace © 2006
Well, my Sunday was different. A lot different from most of my Sunday's of late. I did (almost) no gardening. Sure some snuck in when I was barely paying attention, But...
I got up early, and let Jenni sleep, she had a sinus thing Saturday night and didn't get to sleep until late, so I let her get as much as she needed yesterday morning. I made coffee, walked Charlie, and did my Nascar picks, then half way through the pot of coffee and about 90 minutes after I got up she came into the kitchen where I was making breakfast. So I made her breakfast too, an omelet with some of our very own garden produce in it, I had been outside hunting big (insect) game with my trusty Sony DSC P200, and had every intention of posting those on a Sunday post, along with the updated mention meter tallies. The tallies I did finally post at about 9:30 PM Sunday night, but by then I figured there would be no mad rush to put up Sunday drivel. So this morning I am double driveling.
One of the things that kept me from my postal service duties was a 705 gallon air-ring top pool that Jenni bought Saturday while I was at work. She had it partially filled on Saturday when I got home, but the location was not so good (sloped ground) so I drained it and did it a favor, I put it in a different location in the yard. Then I filled it, attached the filtration pump, and let the 95° sunny Sunday warm it up. Later it returned the favor by cooling Jenni and I off. Jenni also bought some "Toypedoes" which we launched at each other like little kids for nearly an hour.
I was inside dried off and downloading some of the earlier photos when Jenni called in from the patio to bring my camera right away. I grabbed a spare memory card and went. What she wanted to have photographed was the mini baby Praying Mantis that liked us more that the foliage. We put
it on some plants three times only to have it jump back onto us. I thought of naming it Brooks or something equally clever, but in the end I just broke its little heart and stepped away before it could leap back onto me a fourth time.

Chuck Pace © 2006
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Twister Weather? Maybe Naked Twister? Chuck Pace © 2006
I have to work today. This is another one of my scheduled days off. This weekend the Boss, the Office Manager, the Floor Manager and the Mail Order Manager are all gone. This is my Big chance. I am Alexander Hague and I am in charge. First? The carpet! Yep, I think I'll order new carpet for the camera department, the existing carpet has been there longer than me (and I'm in my 19th year). Second, we start closing at 5:30 on Thursday's instead of the unproductive extra hour of miniscule drizzle traffic. Next? A more casual dress code all the time, hot tubs in the expanded warehouse area, a slurpie machine, and real clown make-up on Nutsack and Microphone, the company Clowns and new mascots. How about 90 minute lunches? Fire Poles to slide down on from mail order? A helicopter pad and corporate helicopter on the roof? Hooters Girls 'Valet Parking' the employee's cars? Dang! I just have this one day to be Alexander Hague, I can't even begin to set al this in motion. O.K. how about this. barco-loungers lined up across the lighting area, and a big screen TV/home theatre set-up with somebody other than Fire-Marshall James incinerating the pop-corn? Blue Icees and unlimited free refills! Dancing Girl ushers and...
Maybe just everybody can call me Master today. Yes master, no Master, I'm sorry master, I will donate my days wages to your web-site master! ...and Chris Schoch has to dress in an organ grinder's monkey suit and do a can-can dance while singing "If I only had a Brain from the Wizard of Oz!"

Chuck! Chuck!? Wake up!
"Wh, What?"
"You had a fever and you were dreaming."
"Wha..?!, Dreaming? You mean I'm not in cha..? I don't get a theatre? The Helicopter pad? The Hooters girls? They all seemed so real (O.K. maybe not their hooters, but the girls themselves). You were there, and you, and... Wait you mean Schoch wasn't singing If I only.., no monkey suit?
"No, that part is unfortunately real, but the rest..."
"What about the Arbor? Trellis D Nikola?"
YES, THAT IS REAL. That has nothing to do with work. Now get up and ready for work, you have been sleep posting.

Oh, so very real.

Chuck Pace © 2006
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Close-a Mimosa, Alien looking wet flowers. Chuck Pace ©2006
As I was driving home from work I noticed the skies getting darker. It was the long night at work, that extra hour that drains half the soul. The sun was shining as Rebecca and I walked out to our cars. I opened the sunroof, put the windows down. Eastbound nearing the Emerson Ave. ramps I noticed the sky getting much darker ahead. I closed the sunroof then raised the windows to just about an inch from closed, as I came out from under the Emerson overpass the skies opened up, in two hundred feet it went from sunny to wipers on full. By the time I got home it was really coming down, the culvert in the back yard was now a river. I came inside and composed the Christening Post, then as it stopped raining just before 8:15 I went out and got the closing shot of Trellis D Nikola for that post. While finishing up the images and cropping Jenni came to the patio and said for me to grab my camera and come out. I got all of these photos in about ten minutes. That's when we noticed one of the candle cups had three inches of water in it, that all from an hour of rain.
I was close focusing in macro on the mimosa when a firefly flew in front of the camera, I tried to stay at the pre-focused distance, but in the end the flash overpowered the shot anyway., Still, it is interesting, and I will try to get a better one in the near future The final shot is called Alien Gumbo, and is extremely colorful and other-worldly.

Alien Gumbo, the pot thickens!
Chuck Pace © 2006
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With the Arbor getting so much attention I thought it only right that it be given a proper name. Since it has exhibited such brilliance (especially for a architectural landscape implement) being so far ahead of all the other yard items I thought it fitting that I name it after one of the great minds of 19th and 20th centuries. Nikola Tesla, whose inventions include: a telephone repeater, rotating magnetic field principle, polyphase alternating-current system, induction motor, alternating-current power transmission, Tesla coil transformer, wireless communication, radio, fluorescent lights, and more than 700 other patents. Another coincidence here is that Nikola was born on July 9th or 10th depending on your source of information on him, the very dates that I finished my Arbor and posted it to world wide web, this is indeed destined. Since Tesla has been a long time hero of mine I feel there is no better tribute than to use part of his name in acknowledging the greatest achievement of a pressure treated wooden architectural element to became far more than it individual parts.

When I was born my father chose my name while my mother chose my older brother's. He never liked the names Charlie or Charles much but liked Chuck a lot. He also had grown up with a buddy who didn't have a middle name just an initial, and thought that was pretty neat, so I was legally named Chuck D (no period needed) Pace. I always liked the D, thought it neat to have a semi-unique moniker. So I give the Trellis' and Garden Arbor the D as it's middle cognomen. Lastly while the Arbor is a amalgam of parts and purposes, the primary reason for it's existence (before cognition that is) was as a two sided trellis for the bearing and enhancement of climbing, vining vegetation. So combining Scientific Hero with Purpose and Middle name into one fitting name and tribute I now present to you for the First time, the Garden Arbor realized...


Trellis D Nikola that has a great sound to it, it's like I've been hearing it for years, it is as natural as an old friend. Truly fitting, given the reasons I outlined above. Long live Trellis D Nikola.
Chuck out.

Chuck Pace © 2006
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Brooks accepts the award, with one extra ugly mug. Rich Culy © 2006
A lot can happen in a night. Any night for sure. A Wednesday night on Massachusetts Avenue, positively. As I pulled up on the opposite side of the street from the Starbucks on Mass I was hoping that "Our Mr. Brooks" (not to be confused with Eve Arden, of "Our Miss Brooks" radio and TV fame From the Early to Mid-50's) would find himself situated on the Chatterbox Patio, as he is wont to do. He was and in the company of the Greens and a 'sheila' from down under whom escaped the introduction faze, bad form Brooksie). I took the opportunity to disperse Mention Meter Magnet awards to Jack Green, David Andrichik, Travis DiNicola; who also accepted the podium finish award for third place finish for Ms. Elizabeth DiNicola (Rich Culy received his award the previous day at a separate ceremony). I asked Mr. Brooks to pose with his Winners Cup and Magnet in an acceptance photo, not knowing that the common street rabble would try to horn into the photo.
Then the Chatterbox Patio became a reunion site of sorts. Whenever I see Frank Neal arrive at the Box I assume the his Uncle, John Underwood is not far behind, that is the case 90% of the time, as it was last night as well. Not only did John arrive, Tonya Underwood (his lovely daughter) and her beau Aaron Albregts, down from Chicago were also in tow.
If you are familiar with the patio at the Box you know that there is an extra little tab on the far right as you face the front of the Tavern, that tab is reserved for obnoxious people like oh, lets see... Architects, so it was fitting that Jim Lingenfelter was there when I arrived. I hadn't seen Jim in nearly a year, he used to frequent "my" Starbucks at Conseco, but no longer works downtown. That's not even where I met Jim, he is one of my first "memorable" customers from a 19 year standing engagement in retail at Roberts. Memorable because he passed out in the store and collapsed like a bag of potatoes about a week after I started there. Last night he was at the box waiting for another Architect buddy to arrive, so obviously was sequestered to the tab table. Another buddy (and long time Roberts customer), Terri Ivey Long was out walking one of her Scotties, so I got to catch up with her some (I saw her at the Cathy Morris/Daryl Spurlock Sufi Poetry reading event at the IMA, but didn't get to converse much as I was in full social butterfly mode, sampling the "flowers"). About the time I was talking to Ivey, Rebecca Martin arrived, received her Mention Magnet and shared a rather fine evening with Rich, Mike McDaniels and I even though we had to move under the awning when rain threatened. Thanks to Rebecca for 'tabbing me out.'
Ben Murray and Emily Sterger where inside, and DeAnne and Nicci arrived with parasols, then shared a few words as well. Vanessa Nichols was our wait person and is back to her pre-motherhood physique. I got to say a few word to Dick Dickinson as he arrived to roust the "Tigers" from the cane plants with his drumming. In all it was a very fine evening, even without Miss Kay who is still enjoying the Louisiana delta city or Mel Shoffner who is usually a (honorary) Wednesday Night Mens Clubber. Enough! Almost all the mention whores have been sated (now even Kelli LaFara, who went to lunch with Jenni and I a week ago yesterday). Which reminds me I do have to say a special thanks to Travis for once again kindling my creative fires in a very arbor-trary sort of way that only he knows.

Remember that Arbor day is in April and mark it on your calendars kiddies, (in fact some states have separate Arbor day observings as well, I will keep you posted.

Chuck Pace © 2006
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Super special song tie-in:

Exerpt, "Clowntime is Over", Elvis Costello, Get Happy (1980)
Clowntime is over;
Time to take over.
While others just talk and talk
Somebody's watching where the others don't walk.

Well I have always had this need to embrace the accomplishments of others, to champion greatness. Each time a fellow passenger on the journey of life rises above the mundane, breaks new ground, does the unfathomable, it serves to inspire, enrich and improve us all. It gives us a feeling of what can be, shows us that through perseverance and initiative nothing is impossible. This is why I now harbor such feelings of pride and look to the future with optimistic enthusiasm. Earlier today my creation; the progeny of my sweat, love and physical laborings gained awareness. The Garden Arbor, (though proximity to the wireless router attached to my computer no doubt) reached out, and took it first sentient baby steps. It acknowledged my laboring and the attentions imparted on it, and in true altruistic fashion (one of my better traits, now passed on to a new mental life force, through my loving ministrations), asked that the prideful swellings be spread to, or shared with others far less deserving, like Travis DiNicola for instance. How can I not heap additional praise on this greatest of gifts? The see something borne of my efforts and struggles rise and embrace the very values that I have cherished. The Garden Arbor is a fitting Champion of my true self shall be heralded hence forth as a fitting successor to the friends and companions who have gone on to enrich MY life and capture the mantle, "Mention Meter Winner." I now cannot at this time imagine a more fitting or worthy third quarter winner, or for that mattera greater choice for Mention Meter Grand 'Champion of the Year.' I quote here the post "comment" my great new love, the Garden Arbor, left on my site, not once, but twice.
"I'm not very loquacious by nature, but I do appreciate the coverage I've been getting by Mr. Chuck on his lovely website. I only hope that I can provide him such coverage in return. I would also like to give my thanks to being included on the Mention Meter! However, as I am an inanimate object, AND, even though I can only hope to one day be considered part of the family and therefore be ineligible for the Mention Meter, I do, in fact, live on the Pace Property and hence feel that I am taking advantage of my situation, and am not being a fair competitor. As my first act of arbor altruism, I wish to donate my mention points to the person who first recongized that I perhaps had cognitive powers, Mr. Travis DiNicola. Please consider this request with good will, and good coverage.
Garden Arbor | 07.12.06 - 6:48 am | #, and 07.12.06 - 11:10 am | #

Chuck Pace © 2006

That's a Swell Finger You Got There Mister! Chuck Pace ©2006

The last time I saw John David he was leaving two cats in Rich's custody for a few weeks. When he arrived I had already tabbed out and was on my may home, I took a few minutes to catch up, two photos of him and a couple more of Gizmo, one of the cats. JD told us he was moving into a rental with 1500 sq. feet (would this require 750 pair of square shoes?), that's bigger than the house I live in.

FFWD one week. Rich says he has not seen much of Gizmo, he is hiding most of the time, but there is occasionally a grey mass n the depths of the shadows, watching. Waiting. Planning. The other feline? Girl Kitty. Rich didn't see Girl Kitty at all since the transporter uncasing moment. That is until Monday night after the box. Rich decided he would find the elusive inviso-cat. He did, down in his basement. She was using the entire area as a hiding spot and toilet. Rich was displeased. He wanted to take her to a revival of sorts, a "Come to Jesus" meeting. Catching an inviso-cat is tough enough, imparting a meaningful message to a creature that's brain is about the size of a walnut is difficult at best (I know, I'm in sales), when that creature is also blessed with razor sharp canines (yes, even cats fangs are called canines, irony) the task is more difficult. Monday night Girl-Kitty, imparting to Rich her displeasure with organized religion, impressed upon Rich that she was indeed an atheist. She bit his right middle finger hard enough for him to speak in tongues. Buy yesterday that finger was showing a lot of swelling and infection. Rich soldered on at work as said carpal member went from fingeresque to sauageesque, to fleshy swollen dirigible of pain. He left for the emergency room at just before 5PM.
I'm not blaming John David, or Girl-Kitty, in fact I'm not pointing the hindenberg finger at anyone in particular, I just know that Rich said "Tell JD he's going to owe me A LOT OF BEER for this!"
I received the "Prizes, prizes, prizes galore for Bill Brooks and all of the Mention Meter Chasers yesterday at work. I would have taken a graven image of them for today's post, except I left them at work. I will have them with me tonight for a brief stop at the Chatterbox to distribute the prizes to the respective (if not respectful) recipients. There is Brooks with a 'fridge magnet and mug (his other ugly mug), Rich (who got his magnet yesterday) and Liz with podium finish magnets and the remainder of the top ten with mention magnets. I know that Kay will not be there to receive hers, not knowing that her New Orleans vacation would fall on awards ceremony day, she has been excused.

The Grey Cat above is Gizmo the behemoth, it is amazing that he can hide at all, being roughly the size of a Hummer H1! I know that every time I mention Hummers I get your attention, I hear that per capita there are more in Zionsville than any other part of Unigovia, my guess would have been Avon. The JD and Gizmo shots were taken on the night that Wilson made up with his alter ego, "Microphone the Clown" Here's looking at you squids.

Chuck Pace © 2006
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Does Something Look Funny About This Picture, hmm? (besides Travis I mean): Chuck Pace ©2006
I have been carrying around a copy of all the wedding photos I took at the Garber-DiNicola Wedding all those weeks ago to give to Travis. Yesterday I finally got the opportunity, on a quick one beer stop at the Chatterbox, Travis received... (Using Big Radio Voice A Free photo treasury of a lifetime, a visual replay of the day his life took on real meaning, and if he acts before midnight tonight we can throw in a set of ginsu knives, a pocket fisherman (I'm pretty sure he's still does a little pocket fishing), a complete home safety inspection, two tickets to paradise, plus a life-size map of the stars available on any given evening when the clouds are gone, and, when he calls the number inside the specially marked envelope he will be given the chance to select from one of three mystery prizes valued up to one hundred gajillion samolians...
..the CD I have had almost as long as Kay's Michael Franks CD's. He asked me to call Liz and see if she had made it out of the Chocolate Factory with her Golden Ticket. She had, in fact. She was sitting at home wondering if Travis would soon be turning into the drive (this is tantamount to the early alchemists attempting to turn lead into gold, no matter how hard she tries she can not turn Travis in to a drive), and upon hearing that he was just a mere wistful, fist full of feet away from me (it would take a very large fist to hold more than one foot, but again I digress) asked to speak with him. Through the other side of the conversation we ascertained that Mr. D had "broken" the plan by stopping off to receive the aforementioned visual reference guide, causing a minor discord in the harmonious song of love. Here those of you who don't know the words to the SoL just mentioned, can do like they do in Avon and just humm along. So after handing me back my phone, Travis rectified the discord by paying the lovely Deanne and heading home to wifey, patio and the driveway that will never be alchemistically transformed.
With Travis out of the way the rest of us; Mel, Jenni, Rich and Rebecca turned our attentions to more pressing matters, and soon Rich had Rebecca expelling the golden nectar of grain and hops through her nasal cavities (a trick which she has nearly perfected on her numerous trips to giggle-shock land), and unto the patio and Mel's sandal. It was a shame to see Mel's ensemble wardrobe soiled in such a fashion. The amount of discharged beer sprayed on the patio was alarming, (the velocity may have been enough to blow the doors off a standard suburban home) Rich thought it would require a mop and squeegee to remove. As our evening wound down (they just don' put a strong enough spring in these old manually wound evenings), Nicci Herrin crashed our quiet (whatever) party and rocked Deanne's truck if not her entire, tiresome world. Connie Ziegler, from the chair most often associated with Mr. Brooks, stated that while Nicci's entrance was good, she had seen a more 'moving' version of the same show in Girl-land just about the time that Nicci moved in. The weathervane that earlier signaled Jack Green's retreat, now showed Jenni an I our way out as well. After a brief ($100+) visit to Luna, where Miss Maggie had more than an enough tune-age to keep my toes tapping and my ears watering, we headed home. The evening ended in blissful peace and perfection when I talked to Meredith for about half an hour before repose, and the inevitable dreams of girl-land.

I'm sorry I haven't put up the first installment of the 3rd Qtr Mention meter yet. I can tell you the new leader is as big a surprise as Brooks' victory. The Arbor (not an affiliate or Employee) is in the clear lead, with followed by the usual suspects. Another shocker? Travis weighing in at 0 through the first week of competition. I'll be updating that this evening, probably.
Happy 7-11

Chuck Pace © 2006
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"Seven Eleven He Rolled and All His Live Was A Golden Gamble..., "Lady Luck," Kenny Loggins, Celebrate Me Home, 1977(J. Townsend/K. Loggins)...hmm, hmm hmmm"

I finished the Northern beds and the trellis work on the Arbor yesterday. I planted some quick Annuals in the new bed, but Jenni will be ordering some climbing Roses and Wisteria to be "permanent" members of the garden club, through one of the catalogs we recently received.

About a month ago David Andrichik was going through some old Chatterbox photos and came across one of Brian Frick, Jody Grober and Ed Sanders. I asked if I could copy it and he said keep it. I don't know how old this photo is but I don't see the grey and white haired old man Jody that I work with now, so I'd say at least 12 years ago. This is probably older than his garden pond, where he and Mary Jane are having a party soon. If you didn't get an invitation I'm sure its just an oversight.

Yesterday's Nascar Fantasy league race hurt me real bad, I finished tied for 24th with Kay and only ahead of Travis' team. Jody's team the yahudiebootie, finished 10th just ahead of Wilson's Clown Cars team (where did he come up with a name like that?). I bet I lost the two places I gained last week with a 2nd place finish, I know that Pam Walker (numberfourpam) got back in front of me. We won't know this until much later in the afternoon.

Well that is enough of that, I've got a lot of stuff to get to before I can leave this morning, and work promises to be interesting again today. Phil is on vacation so we will be short handed all week. Today's short post is a make-up for yesterday's longish one. I started with a view looking in from the side yard, and close with one looking back from the vegetable bed. I still need to dig out and set the bricks in place, but that's another week's job, I'm dog tired.

Enjoy the 7/10 split , tomorrow is a Full moon. Beware the night people (one of them was out playing basketball last night just down the street from my at 12:20 AM this morning)!
Chuck Pace © 2006
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Yesterday was determined to take my spirit. It started with me waking up at 7:15, instead of my normal 5:45. I had to work yesterday, I normally get there at about 8:15 after leaving the house at about 7:50. Not having the volume up on the cell phone/alarm was my way of shooting myself in the head.
Being a habitual creature of habit, I have to tell you my routine is a simple one. I get up, head into the world headquarters, open my web authoring software, try to craft a crafty title, remember (or at least try to) some of the previous days points be they high or low. Next I'll either start typing my thoughts, or place my digital camera memory card into the printer/reader and transfer the images into iPhoto. I select the days nuggets from the new images, and import those into photoshop. Choose the winners, crop, align, color correct and determine the appropriate size for the content, and intent. Usually I will try to tie something in with the previous days activities, the people and or places I encountered, the recap and recounting of the noteworthy (sure, whatever) or (hopefully) interesting things I or my core of friends and coworkers have gotten up to. Occasionally there will be a musical tie in or a song will come to mind while I am imposing my thoughts (I decided that "composing my thoughts" was probably less accurate there), I will often use that tie in as part of the total message I am imparting. This process can take just a few minutes or nearly an hour. Once I have verbiage (verb+garbage) in place I start the visual composition phase, aligning and choosing the position of the imagery, deciding which "shots" make it, and where; previewing and fine tuning in the software often before the signature and comment/tracking html is dropped into place. Then the save and upload process begins. As many of you know these tedious posts of mine are usually image intensive and require a lot of computational space (just ask Heather Basile, she complains that her Alex G. Bell dial up information retrieval system often bogs down for vast periods of time due to the images I foist onto her Mini-Mainframe state-of-the-art typewriter/calculator with CTR screen. Um? Dial-up? Really?). Due to the size of the FTP upload anywhere from six to fifteen minutes is required to upload the new baby post from the womb of the World HQ to the delivery room of the world wide web. I try, I repeat, try to do a decent proof read before the upload process, I run the integral spelling checker with 50,000 plus word dictionary, which catches many of my interpretations (I hesitate to say mistakes, a term or word that neither Brooks or I are comfortable using), often though I will have missed on the spelling so badly, or dropped a letter altogether due to my soft touch typing style and a new, unintended word, that IS in the dictionary results, thusly escapes the well intentioned, but less than psychic spell checker. An interesting thing occurs later, when I get an opportunity to review the page. I think, "There are different words here than were in my head!" I didn't see them during the proof-read because I "Knew" what they were supposed to be. I get angry with myself, and usually will do a revision the next day while birthing another mistake riddled sibling for the brood of thoughtpukes already inhabiting my cyber-world.
Please Sir, can we not have a Paragraph break, just to get our bearings?
I started this post complaining about what yesterday did to me. More correctly what I did to me yesterday. My tardy Exodus from the promised land of sheets and pillows and the interruption of my routine set into motion a discordance within my universe, the day flowed wrong. That's all (sure, there was all that stuff that contributed to the discord, but it's over).
So after the upload is complete (during which I do my washing, dressing, deodorizing and dental duties), I have to do the final save to keep the information intact in my computer as well. I have left before as this "save" was being accomplished, and the length of time involved or something else kept it from happening. When that occurs, the next morning I have to first re-create the previous days post, (less time consuming the 2nd time around as I just duplicate and reformat the images for proper placement from the web, but still a grand and glorious pain in the keester), before continuing with the new one. The telling of all of this has indeed brought to mind a song reference, as I mentioned often happens. (With 6,000 CD's I have a lot of connections to choose from.) So today's song reference is from the late, great, Lowell George, a great big man with Little Feat, from the 1979 solo album Lowell George, Thanks I'll Eat It Here, "20 Million Things," which is playing at the exact moment I am typing (with a small tear in my eye) this.

If its fix a fence, fender dents
I've got lots of experience
Rent gets spent
And all the letters never written dont get sent
It comes from confusion, all things I left undone
It comes from moment to moment, day to day
Time seems to slip away

But I've got twenty million things to do, twenty million things
And all I can do, is think about you
With twenty million things to do

Ive got mysterious wisteria hanging in the air
The rocking chair I was supposed to fix
Well it came undid
And all the things that I let slip, I found out quick
It comes from moment to moment, day to day
Time seems to slip away

But I've got twenty million things to do, twenty million things
And all I can do, is think about you
With twenty million things to do

And all I can do, is think about you
With twenty million things to do
(L.Gorge/J. Levy)

So, why the extra long post? Because yesterday I had not one second to spare to make one. So it's a twofer weekender. Now I've got to add the images, upload, finish the flower beds, put some anchor screw in the trellis, add soil and plant some of the flora I got for the new bed, and... 20 million...

Chuck Pace © 2006
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Cathy, Daryl, Richard and Debbie "On the Hill." Chuck Pace ©2006
Last night at about 7:15PM Jenni, Mel Shoffner and I converged on the grounds of the Museum of Art for the Album introduction performance of "Sacred Romance." It was a truly beautiful and magical night with Richard Brendan and Debbie Young rendering the 13th century Sufi Poetry of Rumi and Hafiz to an original score performed by Cathy Morris and Daryl Spurlock. Everything about the evening was perfect. I brought a bottle of Oliver Winery Viognier wine, a cheese wheel, Marshÿcheddar pasta salad and sandwich spreads, and we dined, listened to the readings and music while watching soothing, flowing dancers under low humidity perfect evening skies.
Earlier in the day I fixed a problem with the second trellis on the new arbor, and bolted together one side of the new timbered flower bed down. This was so strenuous I actually broke a 1/2" ratchet wrench, thus only one side done. This was my laziest day off in ages, I slept, I did minor and quick repairs, played computer card games and prepared chuckpace.com/Cafepress pieces for the upcoming awards ceremony of the most recent Mention Meter. I put the new "Luna" music in my 5 disc changer on shuffle, and just let that wash through my day as I went from one small task to another without stress until the preparations for the musical picnic put me in a bit of a rush. The performance itself cleansed me far better than expected. A perfect, magical evening thanks to Cathy, Daryl, Debbie and Richard. The Album artwork is also very captivating, a piece prepared and painted for the cover by local artist/gallery owner and a friend, John Domont.

Chuck Pace © 2006
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Last night at the Chatterbox, I half expected to see recent groom, the despondent and distraught leader of two weeks ago, who fell to 4th place after a poor showing in the "chase," or more accurately a lack of showing. Instead I was greeted and welcomed by Mike Wilson, Rich Culy, Richard Plath, Jack Green and The Bill Brooks. Mel arrived shortly after I did, as did Cheryl Strain, Kay Niedenthal, Jim Stain and eventually Jim Strain and Joan Green. I only got a few shots of the assembled (and partially assembled) before it was time for me to head out. Cathy Morris and Daryl Spurlock arrived and I commiserated with Cathy about Mpozi for a bit. John David showed up after I had already tabbed out, we visited for a bit, heard about his new apartment, and such. Before I left Mike Wilson promised to be more visible, even took on a clownish demeanor when I pointed a camera his way, all just to try to make the "chase" in the third quarter, already under way.
Earlier, I also went to Luna and talked with Maggie, bought four CD's and was given a free sampler. Because the music matters. Like I said, I got a lot of reaction to yesterday's post, and especially the Mention Meter outcome. I put into place a set of rules to dictate the outcome based on the finite wisdom of the Nascar model, as set in place two years ago. The theory is to keep the points system and fan interest until the very end, to eliminate the boredom of a having a runaway winner. Well kids. I used that same model. The approved model last time produced the same winner as a straight points system would have. This time the out come was different, using the "system" anybody doing exceptionally in the last 12 days gains advantage over the less active, or mentioned. Thus instead of a recently married leader on 6/18 taking the prize, the overly mentionable presence and antics of the winner, Mr. Brooks in just the last 12 days gained considerable advantage and garnered the "big Prize!" i have been carrying Kay's CD's in my messenger bag for over a week, and keep forgetting to give them back. Tonight would have been a perfect opportunity , she even brought me a white chocolate chip cookie, yum.

Way to Go Mike, that's the spirit that will keep you in the hunt till the very end. See you on Friday, I can hardly wait to hear what you think of things.
Chuck Pace © 2006
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Well after a rough Monday night, and the Mpozi post yesterday, plus crappy weather and general malaise I did what any good reporter would do I turned the site over to the "Real News"
Monday's shocking news preempted the regular post already in progress...
We now return you to your "Thoughtpuke"

...so in a showdown of American muscle vs. high tech European racing prowess, Heather and her "Bad Kitty" decimated David and the "F1 Renault," it was sad actually, some said more experienced driver, some said braking issues, I personally thought the Michelins on the Renault were not up to the rigors of the course here in Indy, and expected David to just park it! Congrats to those "Bad Kitty's and the wicked drivers everywhere.
I finally got around to calculating the 2nd quarter Mention meter totals. With my "Cup Chase" style points reset bunching up the pack in the final 12 days the race became a total surprise. I didn't expect it to end this way, but it did. The Atypical Wednesday post pushed Bill Brooks out into an insurmountable lead. That's right Bill Brooks (if that really is Bill Brooks) is the winner, with Rich and Liz DiNicola each falling in behind in just two points increments, this was the closest podium finish yet in mention meter history. The rest of the top ten were bunched pretty tight, three finalists finished with 105 points and all share seventh place. The other shocker here is the fact that Mike Wilson got even more invisible and fell out of the points race early this time. He must have been busy doing what ever it is he does at the store, and therefore off the radar!
I also finally got to meet Ava Grace DeMumbrum in person on Monday night, she was out for a little bar-hopping with her folks, and wanted to see the Chatterbox first hand. She found it pedestrian and boring, and barely kept her eyes open long enough to take in the grandeur, these kids these days. It was great to see Cathy Morris and Monika Herzig again on the stage at the "Box too," it should have been a great night.


Tuesday: I did next to no gardening yesterday. I installed wire leads and planted three English Ivy plants on the south side trellis of the Arbor, and a Lantana plant, but that took less time to do than it did to recap. Jenni and I did go to see Superman Returns, and I give it a hardy two thumbs up. As we were coming out of the theatre I turned my cell phone on and immediately got two texts, and a voicemail, as the text display most recent first I read this message from my son in law David while still negotiating the steps down from the seats, "Number 3 is in the air, this one is a long range missile they think." I read this aloud to Jenni, who in a panic ran out of the theatre and all the way to the truck, I said that even if we were under attack it would do no good for her to have a freakin' heart attack, the previous message was also from David saying that N. Korea had just launched two missiles, check the news when you get a chance. The voicemail was Pam Walker telling me to catch the channel 13 tribute to Mpozi at 6:00. I called her back when I got home, told her about the missile launches (she hadn't heard yet), and thanked her for the heads up on the news. I watched replays of the beautiful Shuttle Launch, then went into the World headquarters to update the Meter.
Chuck Pace © 2006
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The dredded bottle shot, date unknown.
I can't tell you the first time met M'Pozzi Tolbert, or exactly the last time I heard his rising laugh. I can't tell you the date of his birth or the year. But I can tell you this, I will forever look for him to appear when I don't expect it, and bring with him a smile. To be on "the job" all hours of the the day or night, and eternally "on the job" 'till the job is done. I never met a more dedicated, job focused, hard working person in my life. I remember once him telling me that it was his birthday, and before he would drink a sole beverage at my insisting, he removed and turned off no less than four pagers, two cell phones and a walkie talkie. More than once saw him with three cameras and two camera bags (his favorite was a faded, beat to hell, Domke F1 canvas) on his way to an assignment. I saw him with tears in his eyes after returning from New York and the 911 terrorists attacks. With a haunted sadness in his eyes, he showed me incredible photos of a four person fatality car wreck which could never be published, they were full of compassion and tragedy at the same time. They were full of M'Pozzi. I've saw the joy that escaping the mainstream by riding his bike could bring him, and once nearly ran over him as he slid down a rain softened berm on a bike path. I pulled over and he showed me his "war" wounds from that particular spot, where he had taken a spill days earlier too, but he was determined to keep at it until either body, equipment or path triumphed. He beat it. I always knew that he would.
I wasn't one of his close friends, but still he recognized me on sight. Working in "the Camera store" in Indy, I got a lot of exposure (no pun intended) to M'Pozzi. He always had a story, 'rude' joke, or a moment or two (sometimes too many because of the job demands) for a friend. He was genuine. He was real, He was unique. If he was passing on the street wether in car, on foot, or on bike and you called to him he would come back and share a few moments a laugh and probably a risque or corny joke with you as well, he always made the time for bringing joy to others.

I heard of his passing at the Chatterbox Tavern on Massachusetts Avenue just after 7:30, July 3rd. Along with my friends, I didn't believe the news. This is a mistake, bad information, a typo, a misprint. A foul and heinous joke. I exclaimed "What?" a little too loud when I heard the news. As I absorbed and unwillingly accepted the information shock sat in. A few Chatterboxers reminded me of a couple of photos I had taken of "M'Pozzi, the Photographer" (one on the bike with pads and helmet) and at home last night I tore the place up looking for them but couldn't find them. I mentioned that whenever he would be passing by he would come back if you called out to him, that happened just over two weeks ago with my wife and I, it was the last time we were to talk to M'Pozzi. We were at the Chatterbox then. I display a few of his chatterbox photos here. We will miss his talented eye, his wit and his skill, but most of all we will just miss him, the gentle giant in dreds.
He was a son of Philadelphia who always talked about his mother, and how she raised him right. Both cities, and the world, will be a slightly sadder place without him.
Chuck Pace © 2006
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Pop'N'Jay, with partial Dennis in BG.
So the reunion at Cousin Eddie's got off to a slow start, I was feeling a little disappointed that my brother Dennis and his wife Cathy weren't there. Neither were two of my favorite cousins (Rita and Karen) and my Aunt Jo. Jenni and I got there just after 1:00 PM and the turnout was sparse, we ate as soon as we arrived because it looks like the food was nearly gone. I brought two tomato pies, and as we sat down to eat Mom asked me to call and see where Dennis and Cathy were. I did after I ate, they were running late, and not sure if they were even coming, they fell asleep after Mom and Dad headed out. I told Mom, then asked where Rita, Dan, Karen and Aunt Jo were. She said Jo took a spill, had a bad ankle sprain and needed a wheelchair to get around, if they could find one they would be arriving later. Soon Rita, Dan and Karen showed up, then Dennis and Cathy. Later, I went around and talked to Aunt Jo who was on the other side of the house with the live singing and entertainment. While I was there Dad had rescued a baby BlueJay that had tried to walk up a car window and kept sliding down. It was fearless and several of us held it including Jenni and myself, it jumped up on Rita's back (and took a dump), then my shoulder and head, Mom took a shot but was not used to my camera and the bird had jumped out of the photo. The other interesting fauna there was a wicked looking (and probably poisonous bug), that nobody could identify. One look at it's slashing dagger of a nose, and "warning " colors, and nobody wanted anything to do with it either. All in all, it was another great July 4th-ish reunion in Marion.


Evil Looking Wheel Bug, originally mistaken for a Spider by some.
We got home before the night race at Daytona started, and by the end I was second out of 26 in the Fantasy League! I got the Second Season league up to late for most people I guess, because there are only Five teams (so far) and Jenni is leading that after one race. There was never "the Big One," but a few small skirmishes that took Jimmy Johnson and Jeff Gordon out of contention, and Bobby Labonte out of the race. Boris Said almost had to shave his head, and finished in the top five.

Pre-Dawn morning shot with "finished" Arbor and beds.
Sunday, up at 9:00 out on the yard by 9:22. I worked on the Arbor and second border bed all day, and finished both (sort of). I half expected Mom and Dad to show up, so I didn't get to attend the Formula 1 race, I did watch about 20 laps near the end. With 3 to go I knew the outcome, as did the entire world, so I went back outside and continued my work.

Today I'm back to work, off on Tuesday, back on Wednesday, off Thursday? It's going to be a weird week. Have a happy Fourth if I don't get to tell you in person.
Chuck Pace © 2006
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The Sun Also Rises... The Arbor and Trellis at 7:00 AM Chuck Pace © 2006
Six Months gone, six to go. Early July, a perfect time for a holiday break. Aren't you glad the forefathers didn't decide to sign the Declaration of Independence on February 4th? Instead of fireworks and parades it would be snow bunnies and colorful mufflers.
My cousins in Marion have an annual "weekend of or nearest to the 4th" reunion and get together, later today I am taking tomato pies to this event. My parents are in town to catch up and socialize with the family, I grew up (yeah, right) near Marion, and my grand parents and most of the family I knew growing up were there. A lot of them are gone now, there are fewer recognized faces every year, but the food and the atmosphere are always great at cousin Eddies. I will be printing some of the photos of my progress on the Arbor, including last nights completion of the south side trellis, (almost just like the illustration I might add) to show to dad. And probably some business type cards promoting the "Thoughtpukes" to hand out to a select core of relatives that I think will "get" it and a lot of them don't have computers).
When I got home from work last night I realized that the two outside vertical trellis plant support members were in the wrong place. I removed them, cut them down and put them farther out, and put new supports in the proper position, the re-working process can be rather aggravation, but it is necessary to make the final product a thing to be proud of, and I think I have done good job with the first trellis. I took some timeline photos as the work and rework progressed into and beyond the twilight time. The next side cannot be assembled until I move the firewood pile and build another bed there, and this weekend is shot, since it's supposed to rain tomorrow on the F1 crowd and on my garden parade, and today is the reunion of Pace on the Marion River.

I created the new Fantasy league Second season last night too. I know it should have been up sooner, but I have been building and gardening until well after dark every chanced I get. If you got an e-mail asking you to join, please do, it's only 5.95 and is a lot of fun.

Well I'm off to bring the Marionettes the Kay Niedenthal family recipe for tomato pie (I better have some of those printed up too, yep, yep). See you soon. The Chatterboxers even sooner I'll wager. 'Til then happy weekend, I hope your celebrations are save and joy filled, may each of you see your favorite driver in victory circle. I'm off to build pies.
Chuck Pace © 2006
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