Coffee Is Subjective. It Also Can Help My Performance.

I am one of those people who when I get into something, I tend to go "deep".  

I was having a conversation with someone saying how I wanted a second cup of coffee and I joked "The World Does Not Need Me On Caffeine".

The strength of the response of "No the World certainly does not!" surprised me.  

I think it is how I make coffee and how I "use" the stuff.

I purposely don't drink a lot of caffeine.  Coffee, Tea, and Cola all have caffeine in it.  If you moderate your caffeine and then have a burst of it just before doing something physical, I have noticed, that there is a definite feedback loop happening.

I always train with sport watch and software.  I know exactly how fast I am going in either of my two sports.  Both how fast I am propelling myself on inline skates or on a bicycle, as well as my metabolism as reported by heart rate.  There is about a 10 percent boost in my speed and/or distance if I have my mug of coffee before the workout.

Yes, it is significant, and yes, I have measured it.

Otherwise, it's a lot of half caff and decaf and so forth.

The thing is that while I have friends who know that I roast my coffee at home, they also bring me some coffees that I can't readily get here.  Since the raw "Green Coffee" that I need is uncommon, these gifts are always roasted.

It gives me an opportunity to critique roasters and commercially available coffees from many places.  

I will say that I have never had a coffee as good as the stuff I roast at home, in a 15 year old, well used, popcorn popper in my own kitchen.

Obviously, that is subjective.  It's my experience.  I get beans from a very specific part of Guatemala, and roast them in a fashion to my own liking.  I have had others who have had my own roast and truly enjoyed them.  And some have not necessarily.  

Their loss, more for me, right?

That whole process of Co-Evolution is why it is subjective.  I am very particular of how it tastes.  The brew is very specific.  I place the French Press Mug on the digital scale, add 21 grams of espresso grind, 3 packets of saccharine (Sweet N Low), and no more than 10 grams of non dairy creamer to the mug.  Add 430 grams/14.5 Oz. of filtered water at 200F/93C, and stir.  Allow to steep for about a minute, stir again.  Add an ounce/30 grams of ice to cool it down.  Push the plunger into the mug and enjoy.

Others will clutch their pearls and screech about the creamer, the saccharine, or the ice.  I do all of that so I get the same mug, every time.  I know precisely what to expect.  Even with Half-Caff on the sports recovery days, it is excellent.

Oh, and it is better than that giant corporate coffee shop that sometimes is on two corners of the same block in Manhattan or London.

But since I love a challenge, don't be afraid to bring me a new coffee.  I will enjoy the thought and the brew.  

Especially if it is something that I can't find here.  Freshly roasted and ground coffee has a flavor profile much different than something shipped in a vacuum packed bag or can that was roasted weeks or even months ago no matter how expertly done it was.

Right now, my own blend of coffee is in a bright yellow can from Selfridge's Department Store in London even though I have never been there.  It looks like a wonderful place, both from pictures, and from the dramatic TV show produced about the founding of the place.

So tomorrow, an hour before sunrise, I will be back in the kitchen.  Repeating my ritual.  I have a training session scheduled.  The intent is to be on the bicycle for at least 26.2 miles, a marathon.  42.16 km in New Money.  The caffeine will be coursing through my veins because I will have had that full caff coffee, my own roast of course.  

Oh and it does make me a bit more of an, ahem, Assertive Driver, as well, in the car as on the trails.

If you hear "On Yer Left!", that blur might just be me.

On the other hand, since today is not a training day, I'll stick to half decaf.  The world might appreciate it.

Some people hear voices. Some see invisible people. Others have no imagination whatsoever.

Got to be careful with this new fangled slang there, bud!




 New Year’s Eve 1961

Karen is getting ready to go on a date, when Ralph stops by to pick her up, but she’s not ready yet, so he sits in the living room with Karen’s father and waits.

Just to make conversation, Karen’s dad asks Ralph, “so, are you kids going to be screwing at the party tonight?”

Completely blindsided by the question, Ralph stammers, “E-excuse me, sir.  Did you just say ‘screw’.”

“Oh sure.  You know, Karen learned how to screw over the summer, and she just loves it.  She turns on that rock’n’roll music and screws all day.  Heck, she’d screw all night if we let her.  I’ll betcha all the kids at the party will be screwing tonight.” 

Ralph turns a beet-red while he’s trying to process all of this, but before he can reply, Karen comes downstairs looking absolutely gorgeous: perfect hair, beautiful dress, the works.    

“OK you two kids drive carefully and have a great time!”  And they drive off.

Ten minutes later, Karen stomps into the house, her makeup schmeared, her hair and dress disheveled. 

“Damnit Daddy-o, IT’S CALLED ‘THE TWIST’”

I have a time travel joke, but I already told it to you.

 Time Travel.  Yes, I have read way too many Science Fiction novels.  And I have plans for when I finally get that Time Machine.

Or do I have it already?  Do you remember when Freddy The White Rabbit was ruler of the world?

Hmmm, just think about that one for a bit...





 Winter Boots

One December morning, a man walks up to the front desk of a hotel, and complains to the concierge that he couldn't sleep last night thanks to his upstairs neighbor.

They both decide to visit the room above to investigate. 

After some knocking, the concierge opens the door to find a guest who looked a bit groggy; some explanation from the concierge later, the guest apologized and explained that he just flopped on his bed after a long exhausting day, and took off his winter boot which landed heavily on the floor. 

Realizing how noisy it was, he decided to carefully take his other winter boot off and gently place it on the floor.

The manager, confused about the first guest's intent, asks him, "You're telling me you couldn't sleep from that one thud?" The man replies, "I was waiting for the other boot to drop!"

If You Require An App To Use Your Gadget, I Will Reject Your Product.

I would say that having dry eye issues pushed me this way but really I'm finding it hard to say I am missing anything.

There are a few, a very scant few, apps I use on the phone.  If your product requires me to use an app to use it, thanks but no thanks.

How I do things is a bit old school.  I use a browser.  On a laptop.  A rather nice 15 inch screen.  It keeps my lap warm.  

I have a love hate relationship with the pharmacy.  I won't name and shame them but the nearest one to me.  That one with three letters.  They try to pretend they care by slapping a valentines heart on everything.

Yeah, that one.

They text me frequently.  I groan and wait until I get home.  Then I type that Random Scrabble Tile nonsense into the browser and hope I got it right.  The message tells me that I have to go to the store and pick up a bottle of something and so forth.

Blah. You should see what I go through with Doctors Offices.  Three Hospital networks with their coterie of doctors.

Sure I could click on the link and try to see it but the Lasik I had years ago means that I am learning my own limitations.  My eyesight is better than 20/20.  That is down from where it was shortly after the operation.  I was the guy in the car who was reading street signs for miles down the road.

Yeah, I am amazed at that too.

Not any more, I'm like everyone else.  I got Lasik because my astigmatism got so bad that I could not get stronger contacts and as active as I am I did not want to wear "Coke Bottle Glasses".  I mean, come on, can you imagine getting on inline skates and skating 30 miles in a workout with those things balancing on your nose?

Me either.

My training in IT and computers taught me how to limit my exposure to ads and other waste of time things on the web.  My laptop is so locked down that when I see an ad on a website, I laugh and do a search and destroy.

My next step is to block certain large websites and surf in a virtual machine but that is a long term goal.  Remember, Fellow Babies, a well tuned Hosts File is your friend as well as a strong ad blocker.

When I look at videos of electric cars with an app to get a refueling I cringe.  One for each network.  Multiple networks both here and in Europe.  The car has it's own app.  

I'll stick with my 23 year old Jeep Wrangler for now, thanks.  It's not perfect, and the check engine light has been on since before 2010, but I know what the code is and... Meh.  Not worried.  Gas Cap, indeed!

Each of those apps has a part that runs in background and almost all of you leave that part running.  The app is phoning home and telling them what you are doing but I really have to ask Why?  Getting served ads for what you were talking about "in private"?  CBC is doing a podcast about that one, the presenter was talking about "Pickleball" and later getting served all sorts of ads about Pickles, Balls, and Pickleball.

It seems like spyware is not too picky.  

Yes, this is what I listen to at 5 AM staring at the dog across the pool wearing nothing more than my boxer shorts, shivering in the pre-dawn coolness.  

"Come on, Rack!  Get your business done and water the Mango Tree!"

So for now, keep your apps.  The one that I have that controls my headphones wants an update that I think I will ignore.  A-Couple-Hundred-Megs so I can translate speech into English.  

Yeah, so how do you do that without listening in on what I am doing here?  No wonder why they want you to use Bluetooth for headphones.

No. Thank. You.   I turned off auto-update on the phone ages ago and my laptop is Linux so it only updates when I tell it to. Remember what that was like, Windows users?  Did your Mac take a powder last time you did an update?  I don't.

Yes. I do enjoy controlling my own experiences.  Don't you?  Since I can't limit my exposure to that sort of spyware and nasty program by removing it from the phone, I limit my time using the phone.  They are hard for me to read anyway even on the "big boy" sized phone I am using.

Being as big as I am, even using the app is problematic.  Don't get me started with trying to use a touch screen with the tiny little buttons on a glass screen.  Just does not work well.  Like typing with your elbow.

Since I have problems using the touch screen in every case, even on my oven to set the timer, I think I'll skip it all.  Give me physical buttons and skip the app.  

Yes, all of this is a bit of a rant.  It takes a significant amount of discipline.  But every journey begins with a single step.  Strap on your Big Boy shoes and begin your own trip.

I Just sold my Homing Pigeon on Ebay for the 22nd time.

So it's a solid hour before dawn.  Dark out and comfortably cool.  I'm preparing for a trip around the giant gas bag and hopefully over 26.2 miles on the bike.  I think that's an intermediate workout, but if the "tourists" can keep right except to pass, all will be well. 

ON YER LEFT!



A shark can swim faster than me, but I can run faster than a shark. 
So in a triathlon, it would all come down to who is the better cyclist.


I think with the next one, I'll have to admit I'm proving the doctor's point!


 
 Deficiency...

A noted psychiatrist was a guest at a gathering, and his hostess naturally broached the subject in which the doctor was most at ease.

"Would you mind telling me, Doctor," she asked, "how you detect a mental deficiency in somebody who appears completely normal?"

"That's easy," he replied. "You ask them a simple question which everyone should be able to answer with no trouble. If they hesitate, that puts you on the right track."

"What sort of question would you ask Doctor?"

"Well, you might ask them..."

"Captain Cook made three trips around the world and died during one of them.

Which one?"

She thought a moment, then said with a nervous laugh:

"You wouldn't happen to have another example, would you?"

"I have to confess I don't know much about history."

I found a stone in the shape of a guitar pick. I used it to play rock music!

One of the nice things about living in a small town, or a city with "neighborhoods" is you can be helpful and pass on info when you see a need.  Or just be a gossip.  

It's all in how you define things, isn't it?




 How to stop a gossip

Mildred, the church gossip, and self-appointed monitor of the church's morals, kept sticking her nose into other people's business.  Several members did not approve of her extra-curricular activities, but feared her enough to maintain their silence.

She made a mistake, however, when she accused Frank, a new member, of being an alcoholic after she saw his old pickup parked in front of the town's only bar one afternoon.

She emphatically told Frank (and several others) that every one seeing it there would "know" what he was doing there!

Frank, a man of few words, stared at her for a moment and just turned and walked away. He didn't explain, defend, or deny.  He said nothing.

Later that evening, Frank quietly parked his pickup in front of Mildred's house ... walked home, and left it there all night.

Sunrise Over The Shed

Old Dog New Trick.  I mutter frequently, lately.  Rack, The McNab SuperDog (TM) is getting old.  People tell me 14 years old is "quite old". 

I don't want to believe that.

But he's starting to act oddly.  Granted, the long walks that we take with him are helping to keep him alive, and it helps to give me something to do on a day I am not going to the park to beat myself up.  6 laps are a marathon, 3 in under an hour.

My own workout schedule not withstanding.  

He's a handful, always has been.  The latest trick is the backyard.  Frequently.  

The bells on a string jingle softly, and sometimes I even hear them.  He does it so frequently that I have begun to disregard them in favor of letting him out whenever I go out to the kitchen.

My own fast metabolism means I'm out there grazing frequently so he gets to water the light pole back behind the house as much as he needs to.

He's even taking breaks during feedings which bothers me more.  A few nibbles out of the bowl, then to the door.  I let him out.  He decides if he wants to do anything productive and is back at the door.  If I go out with him, he will be more circumspect and sniff the air.  

That illusion of doing something must be important the little furry knucklehead.

I have my own agenda.  He gets walked once he gets fed.  I am up at 5am to be able to get to the park for my workout.  That's a requirement because the Furnace that is Florida gets spicy hot after about 10AM in summer.   It is easier for me to maintain that schedule all year around so even in winter, I beat the sunrise by a couple hours.

Stuffing the earbuds in my ears, I find CBC Radio One for the international news.  I'm typically standing by the pool in my boxer shorts staring at the dog or looking for shooting stars or the moon or some such.

"Go on, Rack, It's cold out here".  I say waving my hands at him.  Cold is relative.  If it ever snows here, it's a disaster scenario Up North.

Eventually we get done, fed, and Walk One done.  That journey finishes before dawn and the distance can be up to two miles depending if he wants the experience.  I cut the walks shorter on days I have workouts, and he does not seem to like that.  

Herding Dogs know the routine, learn the land, and will tell you when they are done.  In his case, Rack usually knows that he can cut things short if he's not up to it.

Walk Two happens at 7AM.  That is when the irrigation system comes on to water the orchids and the other plant pots.  

At this time of year, sunrise is just before then.  It takes a little bit for the sun to get over the tree line.  I noticed the sun just below the peak of the roof.  

I'm standing there, looking East over the pool towards the beach and The Bahamas, thinking.  Saying "You know, this does look quite nice out here".  

Rack hears me, which is a surprise in itself because Selective Deafness is a thing in older dogs, and comes to me.

"It's time for the second walk." I say and we go in.  The moment was broken and it's time to greet the world.

The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some good ideas!

 Today, The Voices are telling me it's a day to get out and get on the bike.  The Voices on the Weather sites are telling me to be damn careful.  12 mph winds gust 27 and temp 71f do not bode well for an easy day at the park.  Heading West will be real fun though with that gusty tail wind.

For the Imperially Impaired, it's damn fast gusts.  20 kph/44 k gusts.  Temps at 21C are quite pleasant.

Bah.  Get off the chair and do something other than a caffeine and carbo load, right?  Lead, Follow, or Get Out Of The Way, right?  That's what you tell yourself, right?

Ok, into the Big Black Iron Box and go ridey up to the park.  Just going to leave this bit of "humor" here for you to, ahem, enjoy!




 A guy in a fancy restaurant starts throwing up

The waiter comes running to the table, asking what's wrong, but the customer, still gasping for air, just points at the large soup bowl on the table, and waves his hand as to say that it's spoiled.

Having just brought the soup out fresh from the kitchen, the waiter is convinced there's nothing wrong with the soup, so he takes a clean spoon, and confidently tastes a spoonful, but immediately he starts throwing up.

Hearing the commotion, the chef comes running from the kitchen, asking what's wrong, but the waiter, still gasping for air, just points at the large soup bowl on the table, and waves his hand as to say that it's spoiled.

Having just made the soup out of fresh, high quality ingredients, the chef is convinced there's nothing wrong with the soup, so he takes a clean spoon, and confidently tastes a spoonful, but immediately he starts throwing up.

At this point, the customer has finally caught his breath, and says:

"I'm sorry! I tried to tell you, I threw up in the soup!"

What do you call a diamond and an antique tube radio out on a date? Radiocarbon dating.

 Back In The Day, when I was a boring kid, I used to sit on the couch at Mom's House and build radio equipment to keep my mind occupied.  

Once in a while I consider how easy it was to do that and realize that really there isn't much worth listening to on AM radio here in Flakey Florida.

Since my "Support Team" has returned from London, I have a story for you.

 Peak Level Trolling

When Walter Cronkite was a news reporter in London during WWII, he eventually accrued enough respect, influence and privilege to be admitted on a provisional basis to some of the best clubs in London.

What they didn't know was he was a compulsive prankster. 

One night, while he was dining in one of the most exclusive clubs in the city, coincidentally a group consisting of most of the Royal Family came in and were seated. 

After a sufficient length of time had passed and they were settled in, Cronkite signalled a passing waiter, discreetly pulled a white envelope from his suit pocket, placed it on the waiter's silver tray and asked he deliver it to the Royal party. 

The Prince at the head of the table received the envelope with suitable dignity, opened it and found the following message inside: "The management requests that you and your party quietly leave".

I thought I wanted a career, but as it turns out I just wanted pay checks.

 And that, fellow babies, would describe, perfectly, my opinion of every manager I have ever worked under.

On the other hand, there were a very few excellent people that I have worked WITH, and usually they were at my level or just below it.

You can take that wherever you like.  I shall take it to the park and go ride around the giant gas bag on a chilly morning in Florida.







 Pet Fish!

A man with two buckets of fish was leaving Galveston beach when a game warden stopped him.

The warden asked, "Do you have a license to catch those fish?"

The man replied, "No, sir. These are my pet fish."

"Pet fish?!"

"Yes, sir. Every night I take these fish down to the beach, let them swim around for about a half-hour, and when I whistle, they jump back into my buckets. We do this every night."

"That’s the biggest load of hooey I’ve ever heard," said the warden.

"No, really," the man said. "Here, I’ll show you."

And he releases the fish into the ocean.

They wait. Minutes go by.

The warden says, "Well?"

The man replies, "Well what?"

"When are you going to call them back?"

The man says, "Call who back?"

The warden snaps, "The fish!"

And the man shrugs and says, "What fish?"

Rack Makes me Take a Break and Find a Monarch Chrysalis

I have been working on getting a "New-To-Me" laptop set up a little too hard all week.  Hearing the doorbell at the back door sound, I am taking a break.

I walk through the house muttering at the problem, and see my own problem child looking at me wanting to go outside.  "Rack wants out again."

Lately it is every hour in the morning, every two hours in the evening.  Time for Yet Another Perimeter search.

It is mid afternoon.  Bright sun.  We're in the dry season in South Florida.  I haven't seen a "proper" rain in about 6 weeks.  The weather service keeps promising me some but I'm not believing it. 

Stopping at the control for the irrigation system, I decide to give the backyard pots a blast of water.  "Ten Minutes on Zone 3" I say to nobody in particular.  Rack can't hear well at 14 anyway.

I start at the backdoor and work my way out inspecting each little bubbler on each plant pot.  Hibiscus, Avocado, Ginger, Mango.  

What's this?  

On a pot that has a moth-eaten collection of things that involuntarily popped up, I'll call it a weed, there's this little jade colored jewel.  It most likely was the cause of the plants there being moth-eaten.  I can't seem to get a milkweed go to seed let alone flower.

"I guess that's why I plant the stuff."

On a given day I can walk outside, follow Rack out around the pool, and see five different species of butterfly.  The Monarch Chrysalis is just one of them, a gift for the future. 

Now that it is the Holiday Season, I am hoping that I will get some more Poinsettia when I go on the dog walks.  Between Xmas and New Year's, two years back, I got my plant.  Today I bumped the pot and it got replanted.  Who knows if that will survive.  I have great luck at propagation and replanting, but Poinsettia tend to not like to be disturbed.

Some plants don't.  I have a host of plants out there, all on ground water irrigation, that will go into the ground eventually.

Until then, they will protect the little jade green jewel from exposure, and promise a future for a wee little monarch.

I've got some good jokes about umbrellas, but they usually go over people's heads.

 Hey, I have been living my life so that things I say are over other's heads so why not this huh?

Time for a little Distro Hopping.  Playing around with a beautiful laptop (i7, 16gb, 500gb, and too many pixels for me to read) and need a new challenge.  I cut my teeth on Red Hat Enterprise Linux, and while Debian is smooth as silk, I want "different".

Anyway....





 A businessman calls up and asks the housekeeper if he can talk to his wife.

"Señor, it breaks my heart to have to tell you this, but your wife is right now engaged in making passionate love with your best friend."

"What?! They're doing what?! Listen, I want you to do this right now, and I don't want you to hesitate. I want you to go to my bedroom closet and I want you to find my gun. And I want you to kill both of them!!"

"Señor!! I cannot do that!!"

"You want me to call immigration? Do it!!"

She puts down the phone, and he hears two shots fired. She picks up the phone and says, "Señor, I have done as you asked."

"That's fine. What did you do with the gun?"

"Señor, I have thrown the gun into the pool."

"The pool? Is this 323...9...7...2...8?"

Cop pulled me over today for speeding. He said he had been waiting for someone like me all day...

I said well i got here as fast as i could! 

Thanks, Em!  :)



 An old lighthouse keeper was nearing retirement and decided to hire a younger man to take over for him when the time came.

He invited the young man for a tour of the structure, a tall building sitting on an isolated island miles away from shore. The voyage to the lighthouse was a rough one with high waves and heavy rain making the voyage difficult. Eventually, the young man safely made it to the island and the two men commenced the tour, going around the island and its sights.

They made their way to the lighthouse afterward as the old man demonstrated the inner workings of the structure before climbing up to the large lantern itself.

“…and that is the gist of it,” the keeper said, having finished the tour. “Any questions?”

“I do have one,” the young man replied. “Are the waters here usually this choppy? I’m just concerned about supplies and keeping food and bulbs stocked.”

“Ah yes, you would be right to be concerned,” the keeper replied. “These are not friendly waters and you may have to wait days, if not weeks, for any vessels to reach the island. Of course, there is a trick to getting more supplies.”

“And that is?” the young man asked.

“Just turn off the lantern.”

If I Don't Keep My Feet On The Coffee Table, Rack Will Want Outside, And I Will Wait Again.

Some days I realize I spend the entire time waiting on this furry little monster.

Oh sure, I'm still in my "off days" mentality.  My "support team" is out of commission so I can't train like normal.

Well, normal for me.  For you it may be excessive, but it's my groove and I want my groove back, Stella.

I'm between dog walks now.  Up before 5AM.  I take two walks before most people get to work.  Looking at my watch, it says that I had "6.00 Km" of distance.  Roughly 3.6 Miles for the Metrically Challenged. 6500 steps and it is not yet 8AM.

That second walk is because I dared to laugh at a viral picture and my foot hit the floor.

Rack, The McNab SuperDog (TM), literally leapt to his feet and practically ran to the back door wanting Out! Now!.  

Fine, Dog, I'll get up.  Rinse the mug out in the sink so I can pour the coffee grounds into the garden.  "Gardener's Gold" it was told to me years back and I can't forget that.  What passes for soil here in South Florida is Coral.  Beach sand.  Not very nourishing.

Actually, Rewind that a little.  There are always quirks but this Dog is forcing me to realize that my days home are waiting on him to finish things.  I'm up early and I put on the CBC on the internet radio so I can listen to the news.  

If I do it right, I am able to get things done, but it is never completely right.  So I have to go outside and stare at the dog so he gets things done instead.  I'm standing in the yard with nothing on but a pair of boxer shorts waving my arms in the air saying "Go On!".  

It is a secluded yard but with our two week winter approaching, I know I'll have to dress for that.

There is a cat that is trying to colonize the yard and we won't have that.  I'll disabuse that cat of that attitude if I can, but meanwhile, Rack isn't being so SuperDog and he's afraid of the yard now.

After that, we have a weird ritual.  Feeding him.  He's not a morning person and will simply sit down and ignore his food.  That can take upwards of 45 minutes for what at the next feeding takes under 3.  "You definitely are not a Lab, are you?"

Finally he finishes, we go out into the predawn gloom.   In all reality, this allows me to enjoy the cool morning air.  I get to see things not everyone does.  Step outside, look East toward the sunrise yet to come.

When I am back at training, I rush through this ritual and cut the walk short, but I have seen things like the morning skies doing an impression of the South Carolina State Flag.  The state scares me as being too redneck, but South Carolina has a rather nice flag.  Crescent Moon over a Palmetto Tree.

Coming home, it's back into the kitchen.  Having a high metabolism, basically like at the level of a high school teenager athlete, means I am constantly grazing.  So I am up and down all day and every time feet hit the floor, I have twin brown laser beams following me into the kitchen, asking for some.  

Thankfully I can say "Not For Dogs" and he understands he isn't getting even a sample.  

That doesn't mean I have freedom from twin brown laser beaming eyes.  I've even had to go into the laundry behind closed door to get something for myself.

The ritual is feet hit the floor.  Rack runs to the door.  I let him out and he wanders around watering my Hibiscus.  Normally I can have enough time to maintain my carboload before he comes back.   If he takes two steps out, turns around, that damn cat is back in the yard and I won't have peace.  So back outside, hopefully wearing more than just the boxers, so he can have his time.

Twice a week there is the ritual of making his food.  Of course I am in and out of the refrigerator getting ingredients.  He waits.  He knows that there is going to be the frozen peas.  Then he will get a small handful of them in his bowl.  Until then, more staring.  Tasty Green Ice Balls!

Thinking of that, I wait.  It could be worse, he's well behaved, we can actually leave food out on the counters, but I will get stared down.

Finishing the first glass of Iced Tea I want a second.  Feet hit the floor.  Dog runs to the back door.  Lather, Rinse, Repeat.  I let him out and make that second glass.  In the time he takes to do a circuit of the yard, I answer two texts, seat and fit test the active noise cancelling earbuds, and get set up on the rocker for later activities.  Check that door, he's still wandering.  Too early in my book for that next snack.

I'm waiting.  It's a feedback loop.  It is a cycle of this doing things and waiting on the dog to finish his thing.  I could break that.  The house needs vacuuming.  Since it is cooler, the windows have been open and the breezes are predictably from front to back of the house.  That chases the fur balls out from under the furniture and tells me I have a task to do.

Or so I tell myself.  Actually, it gives me a break.  Someone furry doesn't like the vacuum, most dogs do not.  Open the hall closet, drag out the vacuum, and Rack is up, trotting into the bedroom closet for a hiding place and waiting on me for a change.

Ahhh back on top again, like a proper Apex Predator!  Soon!  I shall have a clean house!  Until then, You get to wait on Me!

I have a meat cutters joke, but I'd probably butcher it.

 I'm sitting in the big green chair.  I'm also getting dirty looks from Rack the McNab SuperDog(TM) to go yet again for a walk.  Since the Coffee was excellent this morning and I'm feeling my Caffeine, I think I'll just leave this here to thaw out like the bun on the counter waiting for breakfast.



 
 A man wakes up one morning and farts. It sounds like "Honda!"

This puzzles him, so he does it again. "Honda!"

He makes an appointment with his doctor to get that checked out. When he demonstrates for the doctor (Honda!) the doctor says "Don't worry; I've seen this before. Go down the hall, three doors to the left and see the dentist."

"Dentist!" says the man. "This has nothing to do with my teeth!"

The doctor says "Trust me; I've seen this before." So the man goes down the hall and demonstrates for the dentist: (Honda!)

The dentist says that he's seen this before and asks him to sit in the chair. He pulls a rotten tooth and shows it to the man. "Look, this tooth was rotten." The man farts again and it sounds perfectly normal!

He says "This is insane. How do you explain this?"

The dentist looks him straight in the eye and tells him "Abscess makes the fart go Honda."



While I will say that fart jokes are juvenile, they are indeed universal.  Even Gorillas laugh at the sound of them and since they are huge and vegetarian, I would suspect they hear them frequently.

Brappppp!

Hospitality is making your guests feel like they're at home, even if you wish they were.

 

Yes, this one is an antique.  And it is a bit ... morbid but hey you know me!




 Dad is listening to his daughter say her prayers before bedtime: "God bless mommy and god bless daddy and god bless grandma and... goodbye grandpa."

He asks her - why did you say that?
I don't know, I just felt like saying it.
The next day, grandpa drops dead. Wow, thinks dad, that's an odd coincidence.

A month later at bedtime, the daughter says - God bless mommy and daddy. And goodbye grandma.
Sure enough, the next day grandma breathes her last earthly breath.

The dad realizes this is more than a coincidence, but he is not sure what to do. He doesn't want to disturb his wife by telling her (Grandma and grandpa were her parents). 

Months go by and one night the man is listening to his daughter saying her prayers at bedtime - God bless mommy....she turns her head and looks straight at him - and goodbye daddy. What!? are you sure honey? She nods. The man's heart begins racing and he breaks out in a sweat. He is so upset, he can't sleep at all that night.

The next day he goes off to work, but locks himself in his office. He takes the phone off the hook, cancels all his meetings and awaits the inevitable. He stays at work past 5 because he feels secure there. He watches the hours tick by. Finally it is midnight and, drenched in sweat, he realizes he has cheated death. He drives home drenched in sweat and with all his nerves frazzled.

His wife is up and waiting for him - Where the hell were you today??! He replies - Don't shout, I've had an absolutely miserable day. His wife then says - You had a miserable day? I'm the one who had a miserable day! First, the mailman drops dead on the steps...

 

Hey Snowbirds! Come get your weather, it's drunk and on my lawn and there is a Falling Iguana Alert.

I woke early.  Yeah, I know, what else is new.  I haven't even acclimated to the change to Eastern Standard Time yet.  

This was different.  I was cold and in bed.

I reached over to grab the phone, and of course it fell on the floor and woke the dog.  Looked at the conditions.  48 Degrees at a quarter to 5 in the morning.  9 Whole Degrees C.

YUCK.

I pulled the covers back over my head muttering something about the old saw of "I'm going to be a stereotype".  How do you spot a Floridian?  They're dressed in a coat and long pants at anything less than 70F.  Call that 21C in EuroSpec.

"Rack you have to wait, I need to put on clothes!".

My normal pre-dawn routine is to let Rack the McNab SuperDog(TM) out into the yard.  It's secluded so I tend to do so in a pair of silk boxers.

Ok, not silk but synthetic and that's not important. 

I opened the back door when I put on the retro styled black jeans I got in the 1990s and chuckled that when the sun came up they'd warm me up.  Snarling at the cold winds falling off the roof I walked out with the dog.

Who proceeded to stand there and stare at the stars.

I put CBC Radio 1 on the headphones and caught the 5AM news bulletin while waving my hands in the air at the dog.

"Go on, boy!  Do your business!  I hate being out here!".

He walked about 10 feet away.

I started following him to get him out there doing his morning snuffle.

Checking the conditions again and shaking my head.  "Winds are 16MPH gust 25?" I say to nobody in particular.  Making my peace with it, I start the irrigation on the flowers and head inside.  

Rack was nowhere to be seen but I wasn't going to "freeze" out there waiting.

The house was cooling, it was only 70 indoors.  This box of rocks was going to get a blast of heat to see if the heater was working.  It had not been turned on since our last "cold" day back in March.  I was told that it is a 1200 Watt heater which to me is about the same as the blow dryers they used to sell and I use to dry out inline skate bearings when cleaning them out.

Can't have your bearings rust before they even get onto a wheel, can we?

But it is just enough to take the edge off the chill.  Many houses here don't even have heaters in them.  Air Conditioning is what made the summer heat tolerable here, and while I am well suited to the hot weather, August here is evil.

Having fed Mr Dog, I was hearing Michael Enright announce that I was listening to CBC Rewind featuring 75 years of archival programming from the vaults of the CBC.  Today I found myself listening to Cross Canada Checkup interview in 1985 with Frank Zappa on censorship in the record industry both in the US and Canada.

I also found myself agreeing whole heartedly with Mr Zappa as I walked around some more snowbirds.  I knew they weren't from here because here we were an hour and a half before sunrise.  I was in my motorcycle jacket, jeans, boots, and a sweatshirt swearing at the weather.  The snowbird was in shorts and a long sleeve shirt.

I muttered something rude under my breath about people from Up North need to dress for the conditions.  I am sure that the snowbird thought something similar about me.

I live about 8 miles south of the freeze line according to the weather service.  The coldest I have ever seen here in the 19 years I have lived in the Greater Fort Lauderdale Area was 34F.  1C.  I did once see a few flakes of snow flurries but it also could have been dust blown off the trees.

I have no proof either way, and I'll accept either explanation.

Of course up comes the news bulletin on the hour.  The end of the news was an item about the weather here.  Yes, we have a "Falling Iguana Alert".  They started, on CBC, talking about how Jacksonville was -2.  I was shocked, then after a mental 3 count, I realized they are Metric and it was 2 degrees C below freezing.  29F give or take.  Having a bit of a laugh, I was on a watch for falling iguanas through the rest of my walk.  No iguanas, yet.

I ran into a friend here who is a Police Sergeant.  Just returning from getting his coffee, he saw me out there trying not to lose my broad brimmed hat in the wind and said hello.  "Hey, Frank!  How about that ride-along?  Perfect day to get me out of the cold!".

I got a hearty laugh out of him as I wandered back towards the house into the wind.  Conditions here are pretty predictable.  Winds come from the East, generally, off the ocean and right down the street.   They're funneled down the canyon of the main drag.  If you drop something light, say a $20 bill on one side of town it will float on the breeze until it finds me bending down to pick it up on the West side of the central business district.

"No I didn't see what you dropped, can you describe it?"
"Sorry!  Can't help!"

I got Mr Dog back to the house and immediately started the kettle to make coffee.  It is a good day for a second cup.

Rack, to his credit, wanted to go back out to the yard.  Immediately.  So he could stare at the skies and watch the trees move.

I swear that dog must have been a stoner in a prior life.  He goes through the day looking at things and being amazed.

Me?  I just leave the sweatshirt on and go about my business.  Today is a good day to do a roast in the oven, you know.  Maybe a little roast pork for later.  It will help to warm up the house, just a bit.

Or so I tell myself.

How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?

 I have not started an actual fire in quite a while.  I used to have one of those grills that you would start the charcoal in a chimney with newspaper.  Always had paper on hand since I had parrots to line the cage but it would throw off the burgers if I used it.

And yes, I was not terribly effective in getting that chimney going.  Propane is so much easier.





 A loud pounding on the door awakened a man and his wife at 3 AM

The man got up and found a drunken stranger standing in the pouring rain, asking for a push.

“Not a chance,” said the husband. “It’s 3:00 in the morning!” He slammed the door and went back to bed.

“Who was that?” asked his wife.

“Just some drunk guy asking for a push,” he replied.

“Did you help him?” she asked.

“No, it’s 3 AM and pouring rain!” he grumbled.

“Well, you have a short memory,” said his wife. “Don’t you remember a few months ago when our car broke down and two strangers helped us? You should be ashamed. God loves drunk people too, you know!”

Feeling guilty, the man got dressed and went back out into the rain.

He called into the darkness, “Hello, are you still there?”

“Yes,” came the reply.

“Do you still need a push?” asked the husband.

“Yes, please!” replied the voice.

“Where are you?” asked the man.

“I’m over here… on the swing!”

To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.

 I have heard that particular quote many times.  I know, I researched it!

I have a teacher joke, but I have to explain it to you.




 A man is sent to prison for the first time. At night, the lights in the cell block are turned off, and his cellmate goes over to the bars and yells, "Number twelve!" The whole cell block breaks out laughing. A few minutes later, somebody else in the cell block yells, "Number four!" Again, the whole cell block breaks out laughing.

The new guy asks his cellmate what's going on. "Well," says the older prisoner, "we've all been in this here prison for so long, we all know the same jokes. So we just yell out the number instead of saying the whole joke."

So the new guy walks up to the bars and yells, "Number six!" There was dead silence in the cell block. He asks the older prisoner, "What's wrong? Why didn't I get any laughs?"

"Well," said the older man, "sometimes it's not the joke, but how you tell it." 

When the Support Team is gone for a month, it is time for an enforced pause in the workouts.

I have had a good run this year.

No injuries, some skating, a lot of cycling.  One long break in July and right back to the workouts.  I'm on the way to 2500 miles on the bike this year.  I doubt 3000 miles is possible at my pace.

August.  Made it through the whole month.  August in South Florida can be punishingly hot.  The peak of that was stop at the car and dump a 20 ounce bottle of water all over myself and use the skin suit as an air conditioner.

Think of it as a big yellow swamp cooler.  Yeah, that's what I will call it, my spandex swamp cooler.

What this nonsense is all about is that my "Support Team" is on the way to London.  Right now, my feet are on the coffee table (don't tell 'Mom'), and the Team is in the Miami Airport waiting on an overnight flight.

I seem to get about a five or six month run between breaks so I am right on time now.  The next three weeks, I have to figure out what to do with myself so that I don't go nuts.  

Also, the normal pattern is well and truly shattered.

I tell people that I am an athlete.  Trainer level.  Dual Sport Athlete, Elite Inline Skater, Intermediate Cyclist.  I'll pause that since I don't want to give myself a bruise patting myself on the back.

What this blather all means is that I have to play hard with the rules of nutrition.  I am a fan of the theory of "Macronutrients".  Of course everyone has their own fine definitions of what that means, but in a nutshell, I have a tuned diet.

40% of calories from Protein.
30% each from Carb and Fat.

1 gram of Protein per KG of ideal body weight.  81 g protein.

Except that these next three weeks, I have to reduce the intake.  I'm doing a soft landing so I am reducing the food intake.

The truth be told, I have been doing this literally for decades.  When I was competitive inline skater "back in the day" in Philadelphia, I would get to October and begin to cut back of calories.  Going from the usual 700 calories per meal plus 200 for snacks, I would cut that back to about 550x3 and lose a snack.  Philadelphia winters were way too cold to inline skate even if I was stubborn.

One "last workout" I was on the Fairmount Park trail and hit an ice patch.  Nearly ended up in the Schuylkill River with an air temp of 25F.  On inline skates.  That would make it difficult to swim to shore, trust me.

The next year I spent the winter in the gym and it worked out well.

This year on The Break, I'm going to do long walks.  Today is only going to be about 12000 steps.  Tomorrow, I am dusting off the Bowflex and see if I can get an upper body workout going.  Weightlifting is always a good idea whether it is a substitute to a normal training regimen, or if it is actually your training regimen.

We will see.  I partially disassembled the thing when the house was being remodeled and I lost the assembly instructions.  I am good at fixing things even without documentation, but with all the injuries I have had over the last couple years, I have been hesitant to begin weightlifting.

Yeah, I know.  Weight bearing exercises build bone mass.  With the 18 or so screws I have holding my two clavicles and the titanium in my shoulder, I have a right to be hesitant.

So remember, fellow babies, if you are going to make a drastic change in your level of exercise, reduce your food intake.  You will hate it, but if it is a temporary pause, your body will thank you.

Besides, my legs were getting a bit large lately.  The three time weekly marathons on the bike built the quads and calf muscles up, and my muscle weight has been growing.  

The spandex compression shorts aren't compressing as much so I think it's been a good thing.

Stay tuned.  Until then, I have a lot of podcasts and comedy programming to get through.

If you are an Outdoor Sports kind of person, you know what I am getting at.  February in the Northern Hemisphere is not your friend.

But a pause is sometimes necessary whether for overtraining or for waiting for the support team.

What do you call a Wolf that has things figured out? Aware Wolf!

 The problem with having a file stuffed with one liners for topics?  You actually have to use them when they are timely or they just look stupid.

Go Fig!  A Stupid Dad Joke?  Naw!








Fact.

Star Wars was the first film to ban smoking on set.

The cast was still allowed to Chewbacca.




I went to the aquarium this weekend, but I didn’t stay long. 
There’s something fishy about that place.



I was arguing with a guy at a bar. He said he was a big pop star in the 80s. 

I didn’t believe him, but he was adamant…



This joke will pass.
Nah, it will give you gas for hours.
It may if you take it in minute portions!



Q: How long does it take to build a new data center?
A: Approximately one closed-door city council vote.
(From: The Onion)




Cleaning out my garage and realized someone must've stolen my limbo sticks.
Seriously.
How low can you go?



Today I got pulled over by a police officer. He said to me 'It seems like you've been drinking. Can you say the alphabet starting with M?'
I said, 'Malphabet.'

What was the pumpkin’s favorite sport? Squash.

Perfect day for that thing sitting on your porch to get squashed?  Maybeeeee!




How do you make a boat feel better????
Give it some vitamin sea!





I feel really sorry for pregnant elephants. 

A really long gestation period, but nobody ever talks about the elephant in the womb.



Me: If humans lose the ability to hear high frequency volumes as they get older, can my 4 week old son hear a dog whistle?

Doctor: No, humans can never hear that high of a frequency no matter what age they are.

Me: Trick question... dogs can't whistle.





I used to drink absinthe, but it caused me bad indigestion and terrible wind, weirdly, it sounded like a Japanese motorbike.

I went to a doctor who told me it wasn't uncommon, that everybody knows "absinthe makes the fart go Honda".





My First Night in Prison.

I was introduced to my cell mate and he said: You touch my stuff and I will kill you.......

I catch you staring at me and I will kill you.......

You touch me and I will kill you........

I thought to myself.......Great, just got here and I am already married.

A Class in Nutrition and Exercise at the Vet's Office.

It is October.  You are talking about having a beach body.  Great.  That's a start.  The best time to start on a beach body is "before now".  The second best time is now.

Where did all that come from?  The Vet's Office, specifically, but really years ago for me.

Today I had to do something I don't like to do.  I went to the Vet's.  It isn't really the Vet's office that I dislike.  It is how I went there.

It was a beautiful day.  Even the car was feeling spry.  My 23 year old Jeep was quick on the road getting to the park.  Temps were moderate if not cool for South Florida.  The rains had washed everything and the winds were very light.  

I piled everything into the car that I needed for a workout and got myself prepared.  Carbo load, music on the phone, extra water because I knew I had a visit afterwords.  Even a brownie for my snack.

Dressed in my one size too small cycle jersey and my now one size too large compression shorts, I was ready.  The end result was that I now have a "Skin Suit" or so I tell people.  If the jersey was larger, I would be better off, but ordering clothes from TEMU can be a crap shoot.  It's tight but I'll get over it, I'll own that because returns are a bear.

My normal workout on the bike is 6 laps around the big gas bag in Pompano Beach.  I check distance on the GPS on the sport watch when I finish and if it is just under a mile marker, I ride enough to get the round number.  In this case, today was 27.09 miles.

Now, that distance is good but not great.   I know people on bikes who regularly ride 50 miles in a workout.  I don't think I can do that in one go.  

On inline skates, I can do that same 27 miles.  I am an elite inline skater, but intermediate on a bike.

I finished, put the bike on the car rack, tossed a few peanuts at the squirrels.  Before I went into the place I poured water on my head so I didn't look quite so Ick, and then brushed the hair.  I mean, come on, you don't want to offend, right?

Remembering that the desk staff is "Women of a Certain Age" and that I am a "Man of a Certain Age" I took a deep breath before I went in.  I have a feeling I made an impression.

It was a rapid fire barrage of questions but basically I said things like it's really just one foot in front of another and in order to bike 27 miles in a morning, you actually have to do the first mile...first.

After assuring them that they most certainly could but it would take training, and that 27 miles on a bike is significant but not unattainable, for the third time, I backed off.

I have the time to do this sort of thing and I count myself very fortunate for that.  Not everyone has that time.  I truly do not want to be that person who has the time and sits on the couch eating junk.  I did explain that the workouts are a "Get out of jail free" card for the diet, but that is tempered with being extremely aware of nutrition and "Macro Nutrients".  

I count every single calorie and know when I can have what and how much of it at any given time.  A slab of chocolate cake is not a big deal, I just budget the calories along with everything else.

If I had a slightly smaller snack or did so less frequently, my body fat percentage would be lower than my current 17% but as I explained to the ladies, it is my reward for a job well done.

Basically if you take a systemic approach, garbage in, garbage out, you can refine what you are able to do.  Otherwise, you are right, you can't ride 27 miles, or skate 20, or walk 5 miles.

Start out slow, divide and conquer, work within your own capacity but push a little bit more every day.

Fitness is a very good illustration of Compound Interest.  You do a little bit more than last time and eventually you are doing a lot more than when you started.

That Compound Interest thing was how I got started.  I was never allowed to be this active as a child or a teen.  When I moved away from home, I immediately changed that.  Never stopped.  So now, in my "Certain Age" I am working out at the level of a varsity athlete.  

You can too.  Start out slow.  Do those steps, then tomorrow do another few more.  

Your body is an amazing machine, you will be surprised with what you can achieve.  

Yes!  Yours.  Seriously!

Trust me, when I started, I could not climb a flight of steps without wheezing from asthma.  Now, maybe 50 miles in a workout is more than I need, but 27 miles on a bike in 2 hours with a break is just right.

It really is all about finding something you can do that will allow you to take things further.

In other words, Personal Choice.  Good luck on your search.  

Oh, and if you are on a bike or skates at The Park, don't be too surprised if I draft you and give chase. It's how we all say let's play!

Why don't anteaters get sick? Because they are full of Anty-bodies!

 When I got started putting jokes up on the weekend it was because I was trying to fill space.  It is devilishly hard to do new content every single day and at the time I was finding my schedule was loosening up to be able to do other things than sit in front of a keyboard.

On the other hand, I have been quoted my own little jokes by readers, so I suppose I shouldn't be quite so sheepish.  

In that matter, here you go!




 Two rednecks are out hunting, and as they're walking along they come upon a huge hole in the ground. They approach it and are amazed by the size of it.

The first hunter says, "Wow, that's some hole. I can't even see the bottom. I wonder how deep it is?"

The second hunter says," I don't know, let's throw something down and listen and see how long it takes to hit bottom."

The first hunter says, "There's an old gearbox over there, give me a hand and we'll throw it in and see".

So they pick it up and carry it over, and count one, and two and three, and throw it in the hole.

They are standing there listening and looking over the edge and they hear a rustling in the brush behind them. As they turn around they see a goat come crashing through the brush, run up to the hole with no hesitation, and jump in headfirst.

While they are standing there looking at each other, then gazing into the hole, and trying to figure out what that was all about, an old farmer walks up.

"Say there", says the farmer, "You fellers didn't happen to see my goat around here anywhere, did you?"

The first hunter says "Funny you should ask, but we were just standing here a minute ago and a goat came running out of the bushes doin' about a hunert miles an hour and jumped headfirst into this hole here!"

And the old farmer said... "Why that's impossible, I had him chained to an old gearbox!"

Why isn’t energy made of atoms? It doesn’t matter ..

 I think this particular thing may have happened here with all the ducks around.



 So this guy walks into a bar, looking like he just wrestled with a dumpster raccoon. He says to the bartender: “Listen, I know this sounds crazy… but if I show you the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen in your life, will you give me free drinks tonight?”

The bartender shrugs. “Sure, why not.”

The guy pulls a tiny piano out of his coat pocket. Sets it on the bar. Then he pulls a tiny man out of his other pocket—about a foot tall—and this little guy just rips into the piano like Stevie Wonder on Red Bull.

The bartender’s jaw hits the floor. He pours the man a drink, then another, then another… soon both man and miniature musician are hammered.

Finally the bartender can’t take it anymore. He leans in and says, “Okay… I gotta ask. Where the hell did you get him?”

The guy slurs: “You’re not gonna believe me… but there’s a genie’s lamp in your dumpster out back. Rub it, you get one wish.”

Later that night, bartender’s taking the trash out. Sure enough, there’s a lamp sitting in the dumpster. He rubs it, poof! Genie pops out.

“Congratulations! One wish—anything you want.”

Without hesitation: “I wish I had a billion bucks!”

The genie snaps his fingers, disappears—then suddenly a duck falls out of the sky. Then another. Then another. Before long the whole alley is filled with quacking, flapping ducks.

Freaked out, the bartender runs back inside, grabs the guy by the collar and yells: “I didn’t ask for a billion ducks, I asked for a billion bucks!”

The guy just sighs, points at the piano, and says: “Yeah, you really think I asked for a twelve-inch pianist?”

Brown Anole on a Fence

 These little anoles are just about everywhere here in South Florida.

Shortly after I moved here, one jumped on my foot, then ran up into my shorts.  Luckily my backyard, where it happened, was secluded enough that I could extract it and not offend anyone.

Not even the little anole who skittered off into the bougainvillea.

I was surprised to find out that they are also invasive and not from here.  Since they tend to be unobtrusive and not really harmful, I have a live and let live attitude with them.

In the case of this little one, it seemed to really want its picture taken.  Basking on a fence post it had been living there all summer.  There is a lot of traffic on that particular spot so I suspect it has gotten used to the fuss of being on display.

In general, they do good by keeping the insect population down.  In fact I am sitting in my living room watching one eat a bug on the fence outside of my window right now.

When I described their antics to a friend Up North, she did not like that they were so common.  Not to worry, they don't bite.  In fact if they have teeth they aren't terribly sharp.

I have read stories of people keeping these in their apartments in big cities to keep the unwanted pest population down.

I will say that while I am gentle towards this type of animal and have a plastic cup I use to catch and release them outside, I neither have the insect population inside the house to keep them alive, nor the desire to find one in my rooms at strange hours.

Mind you, the black racer snake that got into the house caused a bit more fuss than the periodic visits of these anoles but that is a very different story indeed.

The snake seemed to take the hint and went back out of the back door when I opened it and went back to it's own life, whatever that might be.

I have an aviation joke, but it will probably go over your head.

I am just about ready to fight the winds and go do a couple laps around the big gas bag for fun.  I will say that this guy is lucky he has such an understanding partner!

 


 Bill wakes up with a monster hangover.

He cracks open one eye and sees a glass of water and two aspirins on the bedside table.

His clothes? Clean and pressed.

The house? Spotless.

He heads to the kitchen - hot breakfast is waiting, newspaper laid out, and a note: “Honey, breakfast is on the stove. I went shopping. Love you".

Even more confused, Bill turns to his son and asks, “What happened last night?”

The son replies, “You came home after 3 A.M.- drunk, broke a chair, threw up in the hall, and gave yourself a black eye walking into the door.”

Bill blinks. “Then… why is everything perfect?”

His son shrugs and says, “Oh, that’s easy. When Mom tried to take your pants off, you shouted, ‘Lady, leave me alone - I’m married!’”

A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station.

Ok, so you don't have to "Know Computers" for this one, but it does fit my own skewed mindset.

I have been using Linux since "The Mid 90s".  It was a curiosity, then, but I found it quite useful.  Later, I had the good fortune to be given an "Off Lease" laptop, so I installed Red Hat Linux on the machine and made it my own.  

When I found that the bad "Mains" power here in South Florida murdered my desktop machines, I was able to recover the data but had nothing to install Windows on so I used Linux full time.

Now, a good 10 to 15 years after that, I have a solid "contempt" for corporate computing.  I will say that the original install of Linux I did on a Pentium 3 laptop was working as I left it when I retired the machine without a software problem, due to bad batteries and a frayed power supply.  Great little machine though.

Reading the tech sites I understand that Windows 10 has reached "End of Life" - they killed it.  There has been a spike in downloads of Linux for these machines, and while there is a learning curve, trust me, you can make it work for you.



 
 Microsoft CEO, Satya Nadella, walks into a coffee shop and sees a young man feverishly working on his laptop. He walks over to the him and asks, "Whatchya workin' on, young man?"

The young man looks up and says, "Welp, I'm making a custom Windows 11 operating system."

Satya replies, "Oh? And how do you do that?"

The young man replies, "I take the Windows kernel, add my custom GUI, add some bloatware and then a ton of spyware!"

Satya gets angry and has him kicked out of the shop.

The following week, Satya Nadella strolls into another coffee shop and sees the same young man feverishly working on his laptop again. Again he walks over to the young man and asks in a stern voice, "Still working on your custom Windows 11?"

The young man looks up and proudly says, "Nope, today I'm making a custom Ubuntu Linux operating system! I call it Ubuntu Loaded."

Satya asks, "Oh? And how do you do that?"

The young man replies, "Welp, I take the Linux kernel, add my custom GUI, and finally I add the usual bloatware and then some more bloatware on top of that."

Satya replies, "I see. But no spyware?"

The young man looks up and replies, "Naw, that would just make it Windows 11."

Rack, I have already paid the Cheese Tax, this snack is not for dogs!

I am extremely active.  My doctor thinks I'm either crazy or a Child of Zeus.

7 hours of cardio in 3 days.  5 miles of walks on the other 4 days.

So as I say, it takes a lot of fuel to run that motor.  

I am up and down all day doing things in the house.  Every time I pass through the kitchen I tend to grab a nibble.  Nice excuse to keep a lot of food in the house at any given time.  I'm baking cookies and cupcakes all the time on off days.  I have kept brownies on hand simply because I can cook them in little cupcake papers and bring them to the park to snack on mid-workout.

While baking is on the agenda for today, there's a problem with all of that.  You see I share this house with a little furry shadow.  Rack, the McNab SuperDog has learned my pattern.

If I stand up, he is up.  Off to the back door to be let out.  Many, many times a day.  Sometimes it does not take standing up, merely shifting in the chair might do it.  

If I do go to deal with the wash or get something to drink, he is on my heels.  He is smart about it.  His hearing is not the best, after all, he is a 14 year old dog.  But if he senses that I am about to open a bag of chips or grab a "little something" I will hear paws on the tiles approaching.

There are two ways I have to grab a few chips though.  Chips aren't the best for man or beast, but either way, if he is outside sniffing a hibiscus flower, I can grab some on my own.  Also I am doing laundry frequently so I can even go into the laundry with the bag and dine at my own leisure.

All that baking takes time as well.  I'm in the kitchen for hours since I am a rare person - I have churned butter and I know how to use that food processor for nefarious purposes like making bread.  After a while, Rack will sit focused on me in the dining room, staring in on my progress and hoping for a morsel.

Since he isn't a "Counter Surfer", I am lucky.  I broke that behavior very quickly after he moved in with us by putting metal bowls on the counters balanced precariously on the edge.  Metal bowl hitting the floor makes a rather loud noise falling from 3 feet.  I think Rack broke the sound barrier running from the resulting clatter.

Of course if we had a Labrador Retriever we would have problems keeping food on the counter.  But as they say about this breed - if you can't train a McNab, you can't train a dog.  Labs are a very different sort of dog anyway.  Very sweet but always hungry.

In Rack's case, since he frequently takes as much as an hour to eat a bowl of food in the morning, it is easy to say food is not his highest priority.  Lunch time is a different matter and that hour can get cut back to about 3 minutes.

But having a shadow is a reason to have a dog.  Rack is my shadow, I will just have to keep sneaking snacks next to the dryer.  It's better for me anyway, I shouldn't be eating all the snack food.  Too much fat, too many carbs, it will not help me hit my macro nutrients.

Ok, shadow is fair, but maybe he's my conscience.  Just stop begging for potato chips, they're not for dogs!