Did you hear about the Italian Chef who died? He Pasta Way.

Having a nice workout, then a nice runner's high on a nice Sunday.  So I'm a wee bit confused about this last paragraph, but I did save it earlier thinking it was a good one.  Since I'm confused, I thought why not let the hive mind at it and give them a two-fer.  

Here you go!




It was many years ago since the embarrassing day when a young woman, with a baby in her arms, entered his butcher shop and confronted him with the news that the baby was his and asked what was he going to do about it?

Finally he offered to provide her with free meat until the boy was 18.

She agreed.

He had been counting the years off on his calendar, and one day the teenager who had been collecting the meat each week, came into the shop and said, "I'll be 18 tomorrow."

"I know," said the butcher with a smile, "I've been counting too, tell your mother, when you take this parcel of meat home, that it is the last free meat she'll get, and watch the expression on her face."

When the boy arrived home, he told his mother.

The woman nodded and said, "Son, go back to the butcher and tell him I have also had free bread, free milk, and free groceries for the last 18 years, and watch the expression on HIS face!"





and...






Stone.

Sam died and left $50,000 in his will for an elaborate funeral.

As the last attenders left, Sam’s wife Rose turned to her oldest friend Sadie and said: “Well, I’m sure Sam would be pleased.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” replied Sadie, who leaned in close and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Tell me, how much did it really cost?”

“All of it,” said Rose. “Fifty thousand.”

“No!” Sadie exclaimed. “I mean, it was very nice, but really… $50,000?!”

Rose nodded. “The funeral was $6,500. I donated $500 to the church for the priest’s services. The food and drinks were another $500. And the rest went towards the memorial stone.”

Sadie computed quickly. “$42,500 for a memorial stone? Exactly how big is it?”

“Seven and a half carats"

Procrastinators Have It Good. For them, tomorrow is always a better day.

I have to say, there's a difference between being cheap and being frugal.  The frugal is the person saying "I'm in college" or "I'm retired".  Immediately assume they're doing the best they can and may be on limited or fixed income - then stuff your attitude and let them live with dignity.

Actually, let someone live their life with dignity is a good general rule.

On the other hand, this woman is the definition of Cheap. 

You'll get this when you read it.


 
Obituary

Woman from the deepest, most southern part of Alabama goes into the local newspaper office to see that the obituary for her recently deceased husband is written.
The obit editor informs her that the fee for the obituary is 50 cents a word.
She pauses, reflects and then says, “Well, then, let it read, 'Billy Bob died'.

”Amused at the woman's thrift, the editor says, “Sorry ma'am, there is a 7 word minimum on all obituaries.”

Only a little flustered, she thinks things over and in a few seconds says, “In that case, let it read, 'Billy Bob died - 1983 Pick-up for sale.’ “

Embarrassing Rack The McNab. It only takes 17 miles to do it.

 I'm amused. 

It was a long workout, but it always is.  I'm an endurance athlete.  If the workout is less than an hour in duration it just does not feel like "enough".  I've been doing 90 minutes lately and that even feels a bit like I'm shorting myself.

Before I go to the park, I have a routine of making sure I have all I need for this.  Then I go there and burn a thousand calories.  Do that enough and you will be an endurance athlete too. 

Water, bike computer, snack for mid-exercise, minimal tool kit, trail camera, and pack.  Mount the bike on the back of the Jeep. 

In and out the front door.  Usually by the time I get to the bike going out front, Rack, my trusty sidekick, the McNab SuperDog (TM) has decided it's time to "guard" and watch the front door.

"Sorry, buddy, you can't come.  You wouldn't be able to keep up!"

Dogs are sprinters, not marathon runners.

I finally get myself together and do an in car look to make sure everything is ready.  The helmet with some of the gear is on the front seat, held in place by being blocked by the bike bag.  Two bottles of water in their place held down by the steering wheel lock and the cap.  Giant grey steel disc that makes it obvious that you're going to have issues breaking into the car. 

There really is no such thing as security in a convertible car, and mine is no different.  The best security is to simply not have anything of value in the car since if they want it, the kill switch I have discretely hidden will stop a casual car thief.

Coming back into the house, I do a final check after I step over the dog.

Finishing that "OK, Rack, Good Boy, Watch the House".

The place is a bunker, I'm not worried.

Going to the park, it's a good workout.  Always check to make sure that you work the four sides of the square so the exposed sections have wind at your back.  You get to wind surf for a little and have a little fun. 

This would be three times around plus a bit.

Get back to the car, mount the bike on the back, and go home.

I back into the driveway and climb out. 

Since I see Rack laying by the door, I go through the ritual.  Or so I think.

You see, with an intelligent herding dog like Our Boy Rack, everything has a Process.  In this case, the Process is normally, say hello, give him attention, then let him out back.

In this case he was still asleep by the time I got to the door.  I was not very quiet doing all this, in fact I had to reposition the Jeep a number of times.  There's a sprinkler head and guard by the door that have been "decorated" by my back tire a number of times and I'm extra careful not to have that happen.

All that means I was not quick about getting myself indoors.

I scoop up the helmet, bike bag, and the two vacuum bottles, and walk to the door.

"Hmm, he's still sleeping.  I wonder..."

Three soft taps on the impact glass on the door.

I have unleashed the hounds.  Cerberus himself, the three headed guard of Hades rears up. 

Massive barking.  Jumping at a rate that would do proud to a Chihuahua.  Barking to the point of yodeling. 

It wasn't that I was shielding my face to hide who I am, I was standing there in black compression shorts and a white technical fabric workout T Shirt.

I was surprised at the intensity, but knowing the source, it was laughable.  He's an old dog, and thanks to his diet he acts Middle Aged, but still by the clock he's in Bonus Years at this point. 

All that jumping around and yelling on his part finally began to shake the crazy from his head.  The feeding frenzy of insanity fading to nothing and he began to realize I was home and who I was.  The tail began to wag.

I'm watching all this and laughing.  Loudly.  Mind you, the impact glass will muffle sounds but not all that much.  The normal thing at this point is for me to unlock the door and step in saying "Are you going to let me in?"

This did not happen.  He realized that he was being laughed at by me and he walked away to His Corner.

"What's the matter, Rack, don't you want to say hi?" I said between belly laughs.

He finally calmed down enough that we resumed normal programming.   I was able to get him out to the backyard as the Process requires. 

Laughing.

All day.

Every time I would look his way, he would look embarrassed and look away.  I'd start laughing again.

Over the years I've mentioned that he's a cartoon character.  Black and white and quirky.  Definitely can teach an old dog new tricks, that maxim is a load of nonsense.  While he's in his Bonus Years, I will certainly treat him as well as I have and give him room to be himself.  We always have.  

I will say the entertainment value I have gotten has been amazing.  Hopefully we will still have more years to come.

If men call short women "petite", what do women call short men? "friends".

Go on, go out and enjoy the day!  It's beautiful here, and it is beautiful where you are because you are there!  But before you go, here are some lessons.



 
Lessons learned over time, in no particular order:

    the problem is always in the last thing that you check.

    always do the network card driver update AFTER everything else.

    it's probably the cable that's causing the problem.

    if you think that you've made things foolproof, the fool will become more ingenious.

    don't click ok on the error message until after you read it.

    if you perch something fragile precariously for just a second, you'll leave it there until it falls.

    if you can't figure out the problem, you didn't remove enough things.

    the wife and the dog both think that they should sleep on your side of the bed.

    check on top of your head before you begin searching for your glasses.

    look in the front door lock before you start searching for your keys.

    just when you think your kid can't get any dumber, they do.

Guess who I saw yesterday?!!?? Who? Everybody I looked at!

After spending some time in the kitchen making breakfast for future treats, I figured "Why not do this?"  I do a lot of "this" random stuff during the days. 

Today it was making milk for future use.  Pudding requires that, so I make it with powdered milk.  Not the best, but it works and we have a place that sells the stuff in huge bags.

Pro tip, it's annoying to make milk from powdered dry milk so make yourself some coffee or tea first.  Bring an extra amount of water to a boil and mix the powder in at once - it should be as close to boiling as possible.  The powder mixes almost immediately.


 

Little Jhonny was an only child.

After hearing from his friends that had younger siblings how fun it was to take care, play, and sometimes pick on them, he got extremely jealous and began to wish very badly for a little brother.

So everyday he would beg his parents for them to have another baby. His parents, however, really didn't want another child, so they always refused.

But at some point, little Jhonny's dad got tired of being constantly pestered, so he decided to make something up for him:

"Son, you actually DO have a little brother!"

"What? No way!"

"It's true! It's just that your schedules never match!"

"What? What does that mean?"

"Well, it means that while he's here at home, you're at school. And while you're sleeping, we are playing with him. Got it? He stays with us almost as much as you do, but you never run into each other!"

"Ohhhhhh! So then he's like my other daddy."

I Am Rack. I Guard.

I finally ejected a pile of things from my rocker. 

It lets me use it, I hardly moved from it all day yesterday.  I figured after a 17 mile workout on the bike going around in big circles at the park, I deserved a rest.

Today doesn't look like a good day to move around either.  Having an energy crisis has its benefits.

Oh sure there are things to do here, including pressure cooking some Kidney Beans for dog food for the next two weeks.  If a can is 15 ounces, 4 cups will make 4 cans, and dried Kidney Beans are super cheap this way, especially when you buy beans in big bags.

No salt either.  Dogs don't do well with a lot of salt in their diets.

Sitting here has its own charm.  I can look out the windows in the front of the house, watch things go on, and do my own thing.

Apparently my own thing is to entertain Rack.

If I were to get out of my rocker, as opposed to being "Off My Rocker", he would put himself somewhere to watch. 

Sorry, buddy, but I will have to in a bit.  Got to do my own thing. 

But when I am home, he will settle in at the front door to watch the world too.  Since most of the day he watches me, I have to assume that I am a lot of his world too.

The more we learn about these creatures that our distant ancestors invited into our homes, the more depth we find out that they have in their furry little heads.

To be sure, there are always breed specific behaviors.  But that is only a tendency. 

I have had situations where I swear I'm having a conversation with him.  The delivery truck comes in, he becomes aware, starts going nuts barking and acting loud and fierce.

"Stop, you told me, you don't need to yell!"

Things tone down from "An Eleven" to a dull roar.

"Come here"

He comes over.  I cradle his head in my hands and pet until he either pulls away or gets loud again.

"Shh, go in the corner."

Like a non-verbal child who understands, he will do just that.  I have a Dog Bed in that corner next to my other chair there.  Grumbling all the way but he understands.

When the interloper leaves "Ok, come on out.".

Lather, Rinse, Repeat.  Rack is back on guard.

He's getting old now.  We've had him for 12 years.  He's had his share of health issues.  The Pill A Day club has him as a member.  It's actually twice a day Thyroid meds for him.  That's fine, gives me a chance to give him the peanut butter he loves.

Make sure you get the right kind.  Any "Birch Sugar" or Xylitol will kill your dog.  Seriously.  Be very careful.

I will say that if I had it to do over, I would.  If I had it to do over now, I'd have an array of those "Speaking Buttons" and train him to talk to us.  I know he understands me when I speak to him - I get correct responses, cause and effect, when I speak.  With a McNab Dog, you expect intelligence.  If you can't train a McNab, you can't train a dog.

He goes to the back door where I have a string of "Wedding Bells" from my sister's wedding years ago.  He knows if he flicks it gently, we will hear them ring to say "I need out".

There's depth there that is untapped.  That is unfortunately the way of things.  I'm sure the conversation would be fascinating.

Every dog deserves a home, Not every home deserves a dog.  McNabs don't do well in shelters.  They are reserved.  They wait for things to get better and don't go crazy when they see people.  There are other breeds that do the things to get your attention, and a McNab's personality is patient.

That being said if I were in their native California, I'd have a pack of them.  Amazing breed if you are willing to bond and figure out that patient personality.  They just get things right.

While not every home deserves a dog, not every person deserves a McNab.  I am lucky.  I'm in an Urban Area with a Farm Dog.  However, while they need appropriate exercise, and ours gets about 3-5 miles of walks a day, those walks are through areas with a LOT of people to greet.  Mental Exercise for an intelligent dog is just as important as the zooming around the yard that he used to do every time outside, and still does from time to time.

A McNab is also smart enough to know that not every Farm deserves a Dog.  That's when they wander off looking for better opportunities.  It's how a lot of them end up in a shelter.  Not every McNab wants to chase Sheep all day, some just want to lay by the door and watch you.

Like mine.

If God wanted me to fly, He'd have given me tickets.

All the sudden I am getting calls from friends and family.  I guess now that we're 3 years past Covid and lockdowns, people are finally traveling again.  Not me, I'm off to the park to bike, and have had coffee, so I need to burn some energy off. 

However, I can think of this scenario happening ...




 Intercom


A plane was taking off from Kennedy Airport. After it reached a comfortable cruising altitude, the captain made an announcement over the intercom,

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Welcome to Flight Number 293, non-stop from New York to Los Angeles. The weather ahead is good and, therefore, we should have a smooth and uneventful flight. Now sit back and relax - OH, MY G-D!"

Silence followed, and after a few minutes the captain came back on the intercom and said,

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I am so sorry if I scared you earlier; but, while I was talking, the flight attendant brought me a cup of coffee and spilled the hot coffee in my lap. You should see the front of my pants!"

A passenger in Coach said, "That's nothing. He should see the back of mine!"

"Wow," said the doctor examining the young woman's trick knee, "what's a joint like this doing in a nice girl like you?"

That sounds like my workout yesterday.  Got on the bike in the strong gusts from the West and only did 16 miles.  Knee started complaining.  Hmmm.  When you are athletic and built with a broad chest, it acts like a sail.  As tough as riding into a head wind can be, it's real fun when you come back and the wind is at your back!






A homeless man approached me as I was leaving a sandwich shop and he asked me if I had $5 to spare. I felt bad for him, and was just about to give him the money.

But then I realized I was holding a $5 foot long I had just bought, so I held up both the cash and the sandwich and told him he could have whichever one he preferred.

He stared at the sandwich. Then his eyes shot over to the $5 bill. He looked at the sandwich again, then back at the cash. After a moment his eyes were darting back and forth between the two, and he threw up his hands in despair, let out a scream of anguish and then turned and ran away from me.

At first I was totally confused, but then it dawned on me: Beggars can’t be choosers.

Note to Self: If Trail Repairs are so Annoying, Stop Doing Them Until Done.

I tell people I'm a Dual-Sport Endurance Athlete.   Then I get a wonderful confused look.

It means I do Inline Skating, or Cycling, for a long time period.  Sometimes as much as 3 hours in one workout. 

It's the equivalent of getting into your car and driving for pleasure a long way away and trying really hard to get lost.  But you don't get lost, so you go home a little excited that you didn't get lost and you decide to try harder next time.

SkateSkateSkate or BikeBikeBike.  Long time. 

Bring plenty of water.
Bring snacks.
Bring Sunblock.

Trust me that last one is just as important as the snacks.  I've come home from a summer workout with a sunburned neck and all the skating I did was on a cloudy day in a Pennsylvania Forest.

Valley Forge, PA in Summer can be deceivingly sunny.

Sometimes I'd "Throw a bolt" or "break an axle" and then have to sit aside the trail and fix things on the spot.  You don't want a wheel of any type rubbing against the sides of your Exercise-Vehicle-Of-Choice 75 minutes from the Trailhead.

It would make it very difficult to get home.

I got more and more insistent on what I wanted to bring along when I was far from home.  Like tossing air pumps on the bike, tool kits in the skate pack.  I wasn't the only one since I would find the equivalent of the Ikea Part 100001 Allen Key all over these trails.  That is a 4MM Allen Key for the non-cognoscenti.

I usually have more than one of those with me and I have just handed them over to a stranded athlete more than once.

However sitting aside a trail saying many times to people "Just threw a bolt" and removing the rest of that wheel and tucking it into a bag was something I developed a nice deep feeling of contempt for.  May as well put some bolt locker on those things so they don't move since the bearings for the wheels are hard to get.

No, really, if you skate, getting good bearings may require a 6 week wait.  Splurge on the Full Ceramic bearings because that sheen of water will rust your "Swiss" bearings (made in China no doubt).

I have blown tires in the middle of a workout on the bike.  Replaced them.  Rode on.  Punctures are annoying.

Today was just ... Pointless. 

I stopped in the middle of a shorter workout.  Laps of 4.6 miles, at 9 miles, at a water stop.  I was sitting on the bumper of my Jeep.  After I finished my water and sugar rush from the Chocolate, I decided to "just tighten up my back brake.

The bike was stopping but slower than I prefer.  Too many "Trail Hogs" on the trails here in South Florida.  People seem to be much more self absorbed these days, and with headphone use the rule and not the exception, ON YER LEFT is simply ignored.

I need to be able to dump speed NOW.  Accident avoidance when you are topping out at 7 feet tall on a bike and helmet is important.

So I did.  Except I got it slightly wrong.  That last lap was really quite slow.  Oh sure, I biked along for a reasonable 16.3 miles, call it 148,182 bananas, or 25.75 km, but the brake was too close to the disc.

That caused drag, and it slowed me down. 

When all was through, it was a bad Trail Repair I had done, and I should have waited. 

Bad Moose, No Chocolate.  Don't get back on the trail without fixing that.

I did, the bike's back wheel rolls clear of the brake disc now, and I'll be able to enjoy my next workout in a couple days.

Just only do the absolute necessary on the trails, right?  Enjoy your ride and don't be a perfectionist.  The time for that is at home before or after you are done.

Now, I need to find the bike box so I can sand my brake pads on the bike again.  Stopping good.  Boring bad.

How did the hacker escape the police? He ransomware.

How about a two-fer?


Ms. Johnson asks her junior high class what body part grows 6 times its size when it gets excited

She calls on Susan who says "Ms. Johnson that is a very inappropriate question to ask girls in this class. My parents will hear about this."

She then calls on Jennifer who says "the pupil of the eye in dark conditions."

"Correct," Ms. Johnson answers. "And Susan I have 3 things to say to you. First, you clearly didn't read your homework assigment. Second, you have a dirty mind. And third you are going to be very disappointed in a few years."

 

Yes, I know I am late with this.  I'll just leave this here with a reminder that Fish and Guests both stink after 3 days.

Not really but Ben Franklin thought so and I think quite well of his writings.





St. Patrick's Day warm up

I had an annoying episode last night.
At 3:21 am, my neighbor starts knocking on my front door.

3:21 am.
Can you believe that?
Thank god I was already up practicing my bagpipes, so I didn’t mind as much.