10.14.03
Posted in Uncategorized at 1:21 pm by Beau
I’m at the kitchen counter this morning having breakfast (as I’ve taken the day off work to deal with the worst flu/cold I’ve ever had, one that I no doubt caught from the plane-full of runny, snot-nosed kids on the way back from Orlando) only to look up out of our kitchen window to find a big black bear laying on its back, rolling in the grass, under the heavily endowed pear tree. Of course I jump up to grab the camera which I don’t have, all the while watching Bobo the Dancing Bear shake the pear tree (which is going to be my new phrase meaning, “fuckin’ awesome”) for some snacks. It shook the pear tree.
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10.08.03
Posted in Uncategorized at 4:47 pm by Beau
I am nothing without my eccentricities, neuroses, and annoying knowledge about very little of general interest. Also, I am nothing without timing and that little itch to keep poking myself in the eye, figuratively, just to see if I can stand it and if it’ll hurt the next time I do it. I know these truths about myself because today, as we’re climbing to cruising altitude out of Pittsburgh, I open my current book, Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers” which thus far, I’ve been enjoying immensely as it’s sardonic, snarky, and full of black-humor about death only to come to chapter five: Beyond the Black Box: When the bodies of the passengers must tell the story of a crash. It’s is EXACTLY a chapter about the bodies in plane crash disasters. A smarter person or at least one with less interest in causing themselves distress and non-medicated anxiety would simply put the book down or skip the chapter and go on to read about car crashes or crucifixion research or whatnot. To give myself some credit, I actually did utter a ‘good grief’ and consider it. Then I thought, “Fuck it, I’m in the air already…might as well find out if I have a chance of surviving.” Succinctly, I do not. If the theoretical explosion doesn’t impale me with life-rending shrapnel or the actual fire doesn’t melt my lungs, then the fall from 35,000 feet most assuredly will do me in. And really there wasn’t even comfort as the disaster-expert explained that were you still conscious after an explosion and dissembling of the plane in the air, someone probably wouldn’t really even know what’s going on…though to be sure, there has never been anyone alive afterwards to say for sure.” Not helpful but I read the whole chapter anyway just because I like to torture myself in these small ways for no good reason.
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10.07.03
Posted in Uncategorized at 8:45 am by Beau
I’m heading down to Orlando tomorrow for the rest of the week for a work thing. Why companies insist on sending us to warm, sunny, vacation destinations only to keep us cooped up in a hotel conference room all day is beyond me. Can’t we do that in DesMoines? Fortunately, I’m skipping the questionable “Evening Under The Stars” themed dinner reception at Universal and heading out to see the sights with the wild Kentucky-transplant, All My Children-loving, Drum Core enthusiast, Dewayne. Knowing him from his blog, there can’t help but be some stories.
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Posted in Home Life at 8:37 am by Beau
Even though we only have about a 1/2 acre of lawn which we’ve dutifully mowed with a push mower for the last two years, Jeff has from day one dreamed of a riding lawn mower. I’ve mowed enough grass in my childhood to know our little place doesn’t really warrant a riding mower but with the upcoming wood-splitting weekends where we need to haul wood around, we finally decided that we could get multiple uses out of a riding mower with a hitch and trailer so last night we stopped off at Sears for their end of the season sales and on Saturday when I get back from Orlando, this will be waiting for me. Right now, we’re arguing over the name. Jeff thinks we should call it ‘Dundelay’ but since that’s what I named the pig hanging on our bathroom wall, I’m leaning towards some kind of Finnish/Swedish Olympic Female gold-medalist name like ‘Greta’. Discuss.
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10.02.03
Posted in Uncategorized at 7:48 am by Beau
I know no one can, will, or should relate to this but I just have to have a professional mini-rant: Don’t you hate it when you start a research subject on a new research drug and then five days later they call you up complaining of breaking out in a rash so you bring them in to evaluate if the drug needs to be stopped and when they get here, there is not one red bump of a rash to be found anywhere? I do. I hate it a LOT.
I’m just saying.
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