PARADE TIME!!!!!!

Subtitled: Why is Ridley Pearson afraid of the Giant Leetie Head?

(please step carefully, you may slip on some community pride that is in abundance here)

This is the season of the small-town festivals, and this weekend is Kirkwood's Greentree Festival. The theme this year is "Kirkwood: A Storybook Town!" (with Mr. Pearson serving as the Grand Marshal)

And, in my humble opinion, Kirkwood is a storybook town.

We have our picturesque City Hall



which sits across the street from Station's Plaza; a condominium, retail and restaurant complex. I can be found here one or two evenings a week outside on the plaza enjoying dinner, wine and/or an open-air concert.




Station's Plaza is katy-corner from; what else, the Kirkwood Train Station.




Whis is just down the street from the Kirkwood Farmer's Market.




Also in the neighborhood is this street corner park




And the OK Hatchery. (note; big difference from an ok hatchery; it is THE OK Hatchery.)


The Bug Store.......


And Moonbeams.





















This was the setting where people waited for the Greentree Parade,





Including the local contingent of the Red Hat Society.




I had the Giant Leetie Head with me. She had travelled around the country in one form or other, or or other or or another.... and attended several of the booksignings for Peter and the Shadow Thieves. I had one version of her with me today, hoping to catch Ridley's attention.





Imagine my dismay when it appears that Ridley sees the Giant Leetie Head, and proceeds to take evasive action!!






And then just totally ignores it!! Either that, or he was ordering snowcones for his daughters from the enterprising young men with the snowcone stand in their front yard.





And then he makes his escape.



It was then that my camera batteries gave out, and I had to use my camera phone.

The Kirkwood High School Marching Band.



Lucille Rapp Dance Studio (That girl is not about to fall on her butt; she just successfully completed a flip)


The Moolah Shriners and their teeny tiny cars



Our community band, AIM (and some day I'll learn what "AIM" stands for. Right now, they are sitting.)



The Kirkwood United Methodist Church Jubilee Band (my church, by the way)



And then the memoy on my camera phone was full. I didn't get to take any pictures of the great entries for "Kirkwood: It's a Storybook Town!"

Phooey!

I'm now heading out to get fresh batteries and go get some pictures of the Great Forest Park Balloon Race.

SEPTEMBER 11

Yesterday, I attended a church service with my daughters and son-in-law. The message was delivered by a missionary who had been serving in the Congo for the last 25 years with his wife. We learned that since 9/11/01, the Congo has lost several million people. The daily loss of life there is around a thousand people due to the civil wars.

This information wasn't given to us with the attitude of "9/11 was nothing, you should see what's going on over there."

He quoted a Bible verse that gets him through the day. I Timothy; 1:7. "for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and good thinking." Living in fear is not the answer.

The following are photos taken this past July of the 9/11 Memorial on Staten Island. The overall image of the memorial is that of two postcards fluttering in the wind; the inside of the memorial are profiles of those from Staten Island who lost their lives on 9/11; and one who died in the bombing in 1993.

THIS JUST IN FROM NASHVILLE.......

.......Federal Duck is alive and well.

I talked with the little duckmeister earlier tonight and he wanted everyone to know he hasn't migrated south for the winter.

Yet.

But there is reason to be concerned. His roommate was a professional cheerleader, a woman of the female gender. He moved out and got his own place.

Voluntarily.
.
.
.
.
.


Is that normal?

Since it's been awhile since we've heard from him, here's his photo to refresh your memories:



UPDATE: By the way, Fed is promising to launch his new blog soon. Watch this space for further details.

I'M TRAVELING; ERGO, AIRPORT RANTING TIME -- WITH UPDATE

The rest of the world is wanting the United States to start using Racial Profiling in its war against terrorism.

This post is not going to be a statement either way, as this is not a political blog. But I just wanted to say that while we do NOT conduct racial profiling, and certain people may or may not be searched on a random basis; I just want to assure the rest of the world that my sweet little mother will not ever again be able to sneak a bomb on board a plane.

I know, I can hear your sighs of relief.

Because my little gray-haired mama (which is dyed brown, but that's another story) made the mistake of undergoing a knee replacement last year, she can never travel by air without being throroughly wanded, probed and searched.

Before going through the metal detector yesterday, she told the agent she had a knee replacement. He waved her on through.

bee bee beeeee beee beeee

They asked her to step to the side and the TSA agent called for "female assist". A seemingly nice lady came over and brought my mom to the conveyor belt and asked her to point out her possessions. Mom started to pick up her jacket and touched my father's shoulder.

The nice female TSA agent immediately morphed into a Gestapo officer.

Female TSA Agent (Brusquely): Do NOT touch anything or anyone. That is why I told you to point them out!!

My Mom, Dad and I turned to look at the Kommandant. "Seriously?" I asked, just barely escaping Gitmo for my brashness.

We soon watched as Mom assumed the position as she was being wanded, and then watched as her belongings were meticulously searched.

I observed another agent following the same procedure with a gentleman who appeared to be slightly older than my mother.

Go to sleep tonight, America, safe in the knowledge that these people will always been thorougly screened each time they fly, so they can no longer be a threat to your security.

UPDATE: While waiting for church to start on Sunday, I was digging around in my purse for an ink pen, and in the bottom, found a knife/corkscrew combination tool. I had it with me a week or so ago when I'd gone to an outdoor concert so I could open a bottle of wine. I forgot all about it, and while my mother was being thoroughly wanded and probed by the TSA agents at the airport, I apparently snuck this by the screeners:




On our return trip, we were running a little behind time, so I dropped Mom and Dad off at the terminal before I returned the car. I explained that gave Mom some extra time to get through security.

After driving to the car rental place, returning it, and taking the shuttle back to the airport, I checked in and went to find my parents. I found Dad, who informed me that Mom had just finished with security a few minutes earlier and had gone to the ladies' room to collect herself. He said they had taken a very long time with her. She joined us just then and told me that her sweater was the problem. I looked and noticed she had teeny tiny silver metallic bits woven into the fabric. Duh!

Gotta wonder how many knives snuck through while they were wanding my elderly mother's knee and sweater, making sure she wasn't sneaking something on board.

BLOWING RASPBERRIES AT SPAMMERS

My archives have been hit by spammers. OK, I'll admit they are "polite"; congratulating me on my content, blah blah and saying how interesting they find my site. Then they leave links to their own sites.

I tried ignoring them, but the hits are increasing. So, for the time being, I'm going to have to moderate the comments until things settle down.

Hopefully they'll get tired and will go after someone else.

*spreads super glue on the blog floor in hopes of tripping up spammers*

DUE TO A CLAMORING FROM THE PEANUT GALLERY...

....ok, "clamoring" may not be the right word. Heckling might be more like it.

Last week, I sent the following e-mail to some of my friends and family. And this really happened, by the way:

You know how some people say they are chained to their desks?
I managed to get myself glued to mine this morning. Superglued. I had 4 fingers glued together and stuck to the desk and stuck to papers.
And then.....I remembered someone said that saliva will dissolve superglue, so I leaned down and started licking my fingers.
And that was how one of the partners found me when he opened the door because I couldn't clearly say "Just a minute" when I had my tongue stuck to my fingers which were stuck to my desk.

Can I go home now?

Little Sly's response was "That's brave of you to tell THIS family about that!!!" (some day, I'll tell you the stick-shift and floormat story about her and how fast those e-mails went through the family)

I received the following e-mails today:

From Peanut Gallery Member #1: I've been monitoring your blog to see the "My Tongue Is Now Glued To My Desk" entry. Too embarrassing for public consumption?

From Peanut Gallery Member #2 (whose name I forgot (tee hee): pssst...Jerry....maybe she doesn't remember the event...shhhh

So, there. I posted it.

Amazingly, that little incident did NOT get reported around the workplace as I feared it would. My credibility is still intact. And after a visit to the salon, so are my nails.

For most of the last week, I have been trying to upload photos of Jenni and Tim's new house; but the server is being difficult. I had about 5 uploaded, and then it deleted all but one. But I'll get them posted here if I have to nail them to the blog.

!

Maybe I should use super glue.

A QUIET NIGHT AT THE RITZ..............

Or not.

Another Friday night listening to Hudson in Lobby Lounge at the Ritz.

Outline of the evening: Geek convention; Fashionable Window Treatments; So You Think You Can Dance; Dancing Geeks; Dancing Chinese Doctors; African-American "Pat"; Cold Ditching on the Dance Floor; Don't Make Eye Contact; Local Celebrity Stood up by Local Minor Celebrity

It was quiet in the lounge when we arrived, and that meant we got a good table close to the action without being in the middle of it. A sudden profusion of nametags and laptops alerted us to a geek convention. Seriously, laptops in the lounge bar on a Friday night? I don't think so.

During the first hour, there was very little dancing; people were staking their territory; sofas, chairs and tables were arranged to suit the needs of individual groups.

One group made us think of a Mormon with his 4 wives and mother-in-law. He looked like a combination of Roger Ebert and a local prominent businessman who will remain nameless. Let us just say, it wasn't a good combination. A couple of the women were untastefully attired in various window treatments. Mom was wearing white crocheted kitchen curtains. A full slip would have been helpful. Wife No. 2 was wearing white cafe curtains. Wives No. 1 and 3 did not chose their wardrobe from the drapes; and maybe they should have rethought that decision. Wife No. 1 was dressed like a pudgy gym teacher; black tank top banded in white and a black jersey skirt. Wife No. 3 chose for her evening's costume a slinky red dress, complimented with a pair of loafers and topped by a beige cardigan. She did somewhat conform to the rest of the family by accessorizing with ceiling fan chains for earrings. We were sadly disappointed that no one dressed like Scarlet:










The dancing started in the second hour. A group of Hudson followers are swing dancers. They are an eclectic group mostly in their young 30's that chose a retro look; spats, baggy trousers, shirtwaist dresses, etc. One young man reminds me of Mark Wahlberg, very good looking, expressive dancer. He and his partner were giving a very sensual interpretation while dancing to "Theme from a Summer Place". To keep from bursting into flames on the dance floor, he deftly turned from sensuality to comedy and started striking poses.

A geek couple decided to give Marky Mark some competition in the hot dancing department. It was painful to watch. She was a female geek who tried to be a hawt geek. She would have pulled it off if not for the tummy pooch.

An enjoyable sight is a middle-aged Chinese couple; the Dancing Doctors. That's my name for them. I don't know how I knew it, but I knew he was a doctor. Hudson joined us during a break and informed us that they are both doctors. Their moves are flawless and they never take their eyes off each other. While Marky Mark was hamming it up, the geeks were grossing everyone out, men doing the "white man overbite" and women dancing together trying to look cool, the Dancing Doctors would smoothly glide past it all, totally owning the dance floor.

I had gone to the ladies' room during a break, and when I returned, Hudson was sitting at our table talking to Kathy. I forget how she knows him; I think he's a friend of a friend. When we were there last month, she went to buy one of his CD's telling him that she just broke up with her boyfriend and he has the CD. Hudson gave it to her, calling it the "Ex-Boyfriend Rule". His CD's are a fun listen; (hint hint).

A member of Marky Mark's group is someone I call the African-American "Pat". This person is a combination of James Brown and Whoopi Goldberg, only about 35 years of age. We guessed the individual was male as his partner was always female; but that's not necessarily a given.

Making an entrance around 10:30 was a local celebrity (fifth from left). He sat at the table in front of us and arranged a chair on either side of him. He obviously forgot our having lunch together back in the day when I worked in promotions at a local radio station, and I opted not to remind him. It was more fun anonymously observing him.

After awhile, various women in the room gravitated his way to try and strike up a conversation. One of them was a slender, tanned and toned honey blonde who was very touchie feelie. She was dressed in a black tank top and low-riding white jersey skirt. The effect was to show off her abs and ass. Dammnit, it worked. Her "wingman" for the evening was a less striking brunette decked out in a screaming orange tank top edged in gold spanglies.

A football lineman looking guy in a red blazer asked honey blonde for a dance and she complied. For ten seconds. Then she coldly walked away from him and over to Local Celebrity, sliding her arm across his shoulder and leaning in close to whisper in his ear. He popped up and quickly joined her on the floor for a dance. Then they went their separate ways. He sat back down with an empty chair on either side of him. People would try to steal a chair, but he wouldn't let them, insisting he had someone joining him. Periodically, he would make a call on his cell phone, sticking his right index finger into his ear to the first knuckle so he could hear better. WHEN does that ever work?!?

At one point, Kathy mentioned that for decades, Local Celebrity's hair color has not changed, never any sign of gray. (St. Louisans will catch the irony there) She said he must dye it. I said "Or buy it" and said "check out the line of demarcation in the back." That's something you don't see during a broadcast.

He was later joined by Local Minor Celebrity and his date. After a few minutes, they all left and their chairs were quickly claimed by various groups.

One of the Elderly Creepy Brothers Who Cruise the Lobby Lounge (regulars at the Ritz) came over to ask Kathy to dance. She had apparently broken the golden rule when it comes to the ECBWCTLL -- don't make eye contact. She declined. One of the brothers has a son who attends the dances; he looks like an aging Arthur Fonzarelli in Don Johnson's Miami Vice clothes. Just try to picture that. Hurts, doesn't it.

I tried to get photos with my camera phone, but it was too dark. One of these nights, I'm going to have to take my camera and get some shots to share with you all so you know I'm not making this up.

Seriously, these people really do exist. Kinda scary, isn't it.

.......AND THEN HE KISSED ME

Tonight was a book signing at the St. Louis County Library for Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, promoting their book "Peter and the Shadow Thieves". The event was the library's second annual Family Reading Night. I have to say, it was a huge success for them.

Dave and Ridley have been traveling around the United States for the past month on this book tour and tonight was the last signing before heading home. As feeble memory serves, I believe St. Louis was the finale for last year's tour as well. Maybe it's because Ridley lives in the area.

I was running horribly late due to work constraints, but my good friend Judy went to save me a seat. Fellow DB bloglit, Sharon, was also there. I told Judy to look for her; then while I was talking to Sharon to tell her I was running late, I heard Judy's voice asking if she would be Sharon. We discussed logistics, hung up.

I quickly called Sharon back. "Judy just got back from Ireland, you just got back from England. Discuss."

With the two of them being so shy and introverted, I thought they could use a little conversation-helper from me.

(HA!)

Another friend of mine, Kathy, was supposed to be there also. But I received a text message from her that she was still sitting in the airport at Midway waiting to get home from a business trip; and they quit giving them departure times.

Bummer.

Anyway, after breaking several landspeed records and a few traffic laws, I got there and found a "create your own parking spot".

As I walked in, I thought I was at some sort of medical convention, or a meeting of the People Who Are Very Afraid of Pandemics. There were giant posters of Germ-X everywhere. I daresay, there were more posters of them than there were of the book. This particular book signing had sponsors. A number of them. Germ-X, Commerce Bank, Mont Blanc, and Plaza Frontenac.

The Bank was nice enough to give out $100 savings bonds. Of course, you had to be between the ages of 10 and 18 and be one of the three to have written an award winning review of Peter and the Shadow Thieves.

Germ-X gave us all Germs. OK, not really. They gave us all complimentary bottles of their product and a pencil.

Yeah, I didn't understand the pencil, either.

At the end of their reading, the Mont Blanc guy said he would like to present Dave and Ridley with a little something. Then he fumbled around for a few seconds before Dave said "Then do it!" Of course, they received pens. You'd think they would have recieved Mont Blancs, wouldn't you. Don't know how those Bics got in there.

I don't think any of the other signings had a master of ceremonies, but ours was Julius Hunter; a local celebrity. As he was talking away, I noticed Sharon giving him a puzzled look. I asked her if she knew him and she admitted she didn't. I told her that he had been a news anchor for several decades and now is VP of Community Relations of St. Louis University, and an all around ambassador of goodwill for St. Louis. The picture I took of him tonight is really bad and I have too much respect for him to post that one, so I'll link to one on the internet:

Julius Hunter

He warmed up the already warm crowd with some "it's so hot in St. Louis how hot is it jokes."

OK, I'll admit it. It wasn't his best material.


Then the boys came out. Trust me, the photo I took of Julius was worse than the one I got of Dave and Ridley.



Even though they've been strumpetting for the past few weeks, they were as sharp, fresh and witty as though this was their first event of the tour. It appeared as though Dave had recently had his hair cut, and I didn't recognize his shirt at all.

There was a huge crowd; with a substantial number of kids. The crowd was large enough that they had an "overflow" room set up with a screen to watch the reading via video feed. If it hadn't been for Judy and Sharon, I would have been in that room with the other outcasts.

Dave did get booed (slightly) at one point when he ventured into sacred territory. He dissed the Cardinals. He mentioned that their band, Rock Bottom Remainders, had played in St. Louis at The Pageant. He went on to say that a number of us may not remember that as that was when we were in the World Series. "Too bad no one told your team that," he observed.

OK, so it's true, but HEY!

Accompanying me to the signing, of course, was the giant Leetiehead.



I had hoped to get her ironed out, botoxed or something; but that didn't happen. I did raise her up in the air a few times, but not much. There were a number of kids behind us, and I didn't want to block their view. The kids there were really excited and had some wonderful questions for the guys. Each one asking a question received a Peter and the Shadow Thieves tattoo.

Then it was over and time to wait for our numbers to be called to the Signing Room. Judy told me that beforehand, she had gone up to the podium and had left a note "Today is slyeyes' birthday", and knows that Ridley saw it. But she figured they had their patter down and didn't deviate from it.

Quick sidenote about Judy. Several years ago, I was going to a Cardinal game with Jenni and a number of my friends. Jenni asked if we were going because it was my birthday. I told her no one knew that it was, and I didn't particularly want them to know. Jenni blabbed and when I joined everyone at the game, they had banners for me. Then Judy took me by the hand and had me stand in front of our section. She yelled out "This is the woman with the birthday!" and they all broke into song "Happy Birthday" just like she had prepped them.

Then there was my 50th birthday cruise that I went on with my sister and a couple of friends. Judy got the entire Lido deck to sing to me.

I gotta learn not to hang with her on my birthday.

Anyway, she had to leave, so Sharon and I sat down to wait and to get acquainted. We were soon joined by other bloglits who recognized the Giant Leetiehead.



These are Sharon, Ramona/Ramada/Romanda -- she said to pronounce it like "Ramada"; her granddaughter, Britney, and Novanglus. Ramada isn't a DB bloglit, she knows Ridley's family. She and I recognized each other from last year's signing where we had struck up a conversation.

Another bloglit, lind, came by and recognized the Leetiehead and chatted with us for a bit.

After our number was called and we went to stand in the Great Line of Those Hoping To Meet Dave and Ridley, a woman walked by and then came to a screeching halt. "I know her" she said, pointing to Leetie. "Who are you all?" Sharon and I introduced ourselves and she recognized our names. She's Mary, a writer for the local paper, and a reader on the blog, though she rarely comments. We exchanged business cards and promised to get in touch. Her young son walked up (10 or so) and she said "This is slyeyes." He perked up and said "You do the "24 thing?" I said that I was one of the bloglits who comment on that thread. He said "Cool!"

I'll admit it, that was neat.

A young lady whose job title was "The Person To Keep Things Running Smoothly" came by with a pen and post it notes. She asked us if we wanted our books personalized and how. I handed one to her and said it was to be made out to "slyeyes from the blog".

She rolled her eyes.

Several minutes later...........(drumroll).....we entered THE ROOM. The Signing Room. The room in which the signing was to be done. The room full of Germ-X posters, a multitude of actual bottles of Germ-X and a couple of glossy 8 x 10's of Peter and the Shadow Thieves.

As we got closer, Dave looked up and exclaimed, "The Leetiehead is here!" We discussed how the Leetiehead doesn't travel well, and Then he looked back and forth between Sharon and I and asked "Which one is slyeyes?" I owned up to it.

He stood up, threw his arms wide and said "Happy Birthday!" And gave me a big hug.

And a kiss.

OK, it was a chaste little kiss on the cheek, but still.

And through it all, I could hear Sharon say "and we're not getting a picture of this."

And even though the program for the evening said NO POSING WITH THE AUTHORS, we posed with the authors and had our picture taken. The pirate paraphernalia was courtesy of Novanglus.








Sharon and I walked out into the steamy muggy night, said goodbye and promised to stay in touch (and we will).

Then I called everyone I knew and told them Dave kissed me.

And Kathy is still on the ground in Chicago.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR MEEEEEE
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME.

Yes, today is my birthday. I usually take it as a vacation day; but that won't work this year. Tonight, I'm planning on going to a Dave Barry book signing, and then to a local venue to hear some music.

And my girls sent me a gift certificate to Zappos.com to buy shoes. YAY.

A "tradition" has begun with the DB book signings. A certain woman in Washington DC couldn't make it to one, and sent her picture to someone who was attending. It was blown up and put on a stick and she attended in absentia. (Let's pretend I used that correctly, OK?) It has since been shipped to other signings across the country.

I received it today and I'm in the process of trying to flatten it out because it currently looks like this:



Anyone have an iron I can borrow?

LIGHTS OUT!!

"It's 98 degrees and no chance of a storm."

I said those words yesterday. I honestly did. That was just a few hours before our area got nailed with what has been termed "the worst storm in recent history". Brick buildings fell on bridges, semi's overturned on bridges, the airport roof landed on an interstate. At Busch Stadium, the dugouts had 3 feet of water in them and the walkways had water neck high.

Then there were the trees. Falling. On cars, houses and across powerlines. Knocking out the power. They've called out the National Guard because we've got 480,000 people without electricity.

And where was I, the predictor of "no chance of a storm"?

I was with a friend sipping wine at a local restaurant. We were safe, we were dry. If I opened my cellphone, I could see to eat my salmon and spinach salad in the now darkened restaurant.

What, me worry?

Then the sirens went off and the wind got worse. A hanging planter banged into the window.

I called a friend at home, Judy, to ask if the storm was anyplace near and if we needed to take shelter.

She said the kids were over, they had turned off the TV and it appeared the worst was over. Oh, look over there, blue skies. All is well. We looked out the window and didn't see blue sky anywhere. What was she smoking, we thought?

At some point in time, the proprietor threw us out. OK, he really asked us to leave as the backup generator was losing juice and the lights were dimming. We carefully drove home, dodged downed trees and noticed a lack of electricity. Except for the lightening.

My house was dark, and Kathy said she'd give me a call when she got home to let me know whether or not she had power. Thankfully, she did, so I packed up by candlelight and headed to her house.

1. Searching through your closet by candlelight can be very dangerous.

2. Colors don't look the same in candlelight. That is why I showed up wearing pink and lavender pajama bottoms and a teal blue pajama top. Only it wasn't a pajama top so much as it was a t-shirt that was in my pajama top drawer. Thankfully, I didn't have to stop on the 3 minute drive to her house.

We had an uneventful evening watching "Sex in the City" reruns on TBS.

The next morning, I did stop by my house on the way to work and YAY! electricity!! I had a text message from Kathy that her office was closed because they have no power.

And I talked to Judy while I waited for the bus. Remember, she was the one where the worst was over, there's blue sky on the way, etc. Well, her son's girlfriend's kids were over during the storm and were very scared, so she was downplaying it. To me, who was calling to find out how bad it was. "I see blue sky!" This morning, she said, "Donna, it was one of the worst storms I've ever seen."

If we'd known that, we would have had more wine.

Here are some photos that were submitted to KSKD's website by local residents.

This is a picture of what someone calls "storm" damage.




It was submitted by a Ladue resident who apparently doesn't get out much.


This is REAL storm damage.





And this is the damage from Stadium Eye View.

TIME

I'm running short of time. Twenty-four hours per day just isn't cutting it. I still want to share with you the following:

10 Things I Hate About Staining; or the family that stains together has clothes that can never be worn again.















A Clandestine Affair: purse shopping in Chinatown














...and many many more. But work has been busy. This weekend, I will be going to visit the newest member of our family.

CHARTER COMMUNICATIONS SUCKS

I have no cable. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

These are the phone conversations I had today with Charter Communications (and what a misnomer THAT is):

Automated Voice: I will need to ask you some questions first so we can quickly solve your problem.

Me: Oh great.

AV: Hmmmm, I didn't quite get that. What is your phone number.

Me: (gives it)

AV: What is your address

Me: (gives it)

AV: For security reasons, I will need the last four digits of your social security number

Me: (gives it)

AV: What is the nature of your problem.

Me: It won't work.

AV: Hmmmm, I didn't quite get that.

Me: (pushes "0")

AV: I understand you want to speak to a representative but this really will go faster if you answer my questions.

Me: (expletive deleted)

AV: Hmmmm, I didn't quite get that. It would be better if you answered with "Yes" or "no".

Me: When did I take the stand to testify?

AV: Hmmmm, I didn't quite get that. In a short sentence, what is the nature of your problem?

Me: How the heck am I supposed to say that with yes or no?

Av: Hmmmm, I didn't quite get that. What is the nature of your problem.

Me: There's no signal.

AV: Let me check that for you. (mysterious beeps and switching noises). We are checking that and will get an answer for you in 12 - 36 hours. Is there anything else I can help you with? Press 1 if you want to sign up for our automated payment, press 2 if you want Charter Cable Phone Service.

Me: (presses 0)

AV: That is an invalid response.

Me: You want an invalid response, I've got your invalid response right here.

AV: Hmmmmm, I didn't quite get that. I will switch you to a representative.

Me: Hallelujah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

New Automated Voice: All of our representatives are busy taking care of other customers. Please wait and your call will be handled in the order in which it was received. When your representative answers, please ask about the $150.00 you can save a year with Charter Cable Phone service.

*45 minutes later*

Representative: Would you be interested in Charter's automated bill paying service.

Me: No.

Representative: Would you like to save $150.00 a year with Charter's Cable Phone Service?

Me: No.

Rep: How can I help you today?

Me: My cable doesn't work.

Rep: What is your home phone number?

Me: The automated voice lady said she got all of that information to make this process go faster.

Rep: That information gets dropped when the call is transferred.

Me: You've got to be kidding. (gives number)

Rep: (asks all of the other questions the automated voice lady asked)

Me: What is the nature of your problem.

Me: No signal.

Rep: OK, I'm sending a signal to your Moxi box, you will have service in 15 minutes. If not, please call back.

Me: Is there a number I can call that gets through faster than this?

Rep: No.

Me: Then how about if I just hang on the line until it starts working.

They were quite amused by that request (not really) and hung up.

Show of hands, how many are NOT surprised that I didn't have a signal after 15 minutes.

So I go through the phone calling process:

AV: I see that you called earlier today. Has your problem been resolved?

Me: Would I be calling if it had?

AV: Hmmm, I didn't quite get that. Are you still experiencing the same problem?

Me: Yes.

MUCH later, I was again talking to a real person, who told me that they should NOT have told me 15 minutes, it would be more like 45 minutes, and I could call back then if I still didn't have a signal. I said that 45 minutes has passed due to their wait time.

So they said that someone would have to come out. I would get a call in 24 to 48 hours to schedule a time next week when they would come sometime between 8 and 12 or 1 and 5.

For what I pay a month, they should get their little tukas' over here pronto.

So, I cancelled the service. They told me they would be here on the 20th, between 8 and 12 to pick up the box. I said, "You just don't get it, do you?"

They also told me they will disconnect the service as of the 20th.

Still they aren't getting it.

To sum up, Charter Communications SUCKS.

I'm now looking up the number for the satellite people.

DINNER WITH THE MEYERSONS

When we were in NYC last year, we had attempted to go to dinner at Carmines with Jeff and Jackie before going downtown for the fireworks. Carmines was closed for renovation, so we went its sister (brother?) restaurant instead, Virgils.

This year, while Jenni and I were enjoying the matinee of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, Jeff and Jackie went over to Carmines to get in line for a table.

If they renovated it last year, they managed to maintain that much-sought after "unrenovated" look, complete with an extremely cramped bar area and confusing entry-way.

But it's all about the food, isn't it.

The gentleman who showed us to our table told us a little bit about how dinner at Carmines works with its family-style dining. The manner in which he delivered this information was somewhat like a soliloquy. As soon as he left us, Jackie explained "In New York, your wait-staff are most likely wannabe actors."

Then our waiter came up and introduced our specials in such a manner I thought they were upcoming guests on Letterman. He advised us that ordering 2 appetizers and 3 entrees would allow us to walk away from the table comfortably. I glanced to the tables around us and noticed the size of the servings. "Walk away comfortably" is to him what "waddling away while belching and unbuttoning the top button" is to us. A platter of their fried zucchini appetizer was approximately 14" x 8" x 6".

We opted for calamari for an appetizer, and a manicotti dish and rigatoni with sausage and broccoli in olive oil for entrees. We didn't finish any of it and left somewhere inbetween "walking away comfortably" and "waddling away while belching and unbuttoning the top button."




We then went on a waddling tour of midtown with Jeff and Jackie.












Oh, and we did NOT get up at some freakishly early hour and go down for the Today Show. We found that the crowds were much smaller at 9:00 at night.

After some discussion in the rain as to the best way for us to get back downtown to our hotel, we ended up on either the M1 or M6 bus and transferred at 14th Street to either the M6 or M1 bus. However we did it, we got to where we wanted to be. Jenni did want to get off the bus a lot earlier, thinking it was our stop. She saw a Duane Reade Drug Store across the street from a Starbucks. I pointed out to her that occurs hundreds of times in Manhattan. And so we traveled about 15 more blocks, passing 55 more Duane Reeds and Starbucks.

Give or take.

INTRODUCING....THE NAKED COWBOY AND OTHER CELEBRITIES

Yes, we findally saw the Naked Cowboy. But we were rushing to catch the matinee of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, so we couldn't stick around for a better picture. Yeah, I'm just heartbroken.

Other celebrity sightings, but no photos of them taken by me, Edward Hibbert and Bob Martin on their way to the theater where they are appearing in The Drowsy Chaperone. Hibbert was also Gil Chesterton in Frasier.

And Dirty Rotten Scoundrels was very enjoyable. Everything I see written about it credits it's being inspired by the movie with Michael Caine and Steve Martin. THAT movie was a remake of Bedtime Story, starring David Niven as the sophisticated and seasoned con man and Marlon Brando as Freddie Benson, the crass wannabe. Good movie.

Remember this name: Norbert Leo Butz. He's great. Also from St. Louis.

More tomorrow about dinner with Jeff and Jackie.

BOUTIQUE HOTELS

We are staying at boutique hotel. "Boutique" apparently is Hotel-talk for "petite". This is our closet and dresser.

I'd show you the bathroom, but the camera won't fit in there.

THIS IS KIND OF COOL

Check this out. And be sure to read the story behind it.

ANYONE KNOW A GOOD ENTIMOLOGIST?

We saw this creature yesterday on our hike up Panther Mountain. It was in a hole made by a woodpecker in a tree. I had reached out for support and thought, "I shouldn't go putting my hand in tree holes without knowing what's in there first." I looked and saw this guy.
















The view from the top of the mountain was worth the slip-and-slide path we took to get up there.





















It's raining today, so we'll probably go into Lake Placid instead of parasailing.

PLANES, TRAINS AND AUTOMOBILES

only without the trains.

I TRIED to blog the following from the plane yesterday, but after typing it all into my phone, "it" wouldn't let me send more than a sentence or two. ERRGGG!!!

Anyway, just before boarding in Chicago, Jenni and I each received calls from Orbitz telling us that all flights to the East Coast would be delayed in landing, but take off schedules would remain the same. The delay was due to weather conditions between Chicago and the East Coast.

Huh?

We started boarding, and ten minutes before we were due to push back from the gate, we were advised of the weather delay of an hour and twenty minutes. BUT, we could not leave the plane. In fact, the plane would be leaving the gate at the normal time to make room for another plane. BS! That was so they could go on record as leaving on time.

So we sat for an hour and a half. Jenni at first worked Sudoku on her PalmPilot until she got bored. She explained that she's now beyond that. She now does Kakuro.

Time passed quickly and we landed in LaGuardia about 2 hours late. A word about LaGuardia. WHAT?!!?!? Was it the first airport built and hasn't been renovated since? At least that was the impression we got from the "D" concourse. Ceiling tile falling, rain through ceiling, etc.

An hour later, we were in our rental car and heading to Upstate New York. Oh. Except for the sitting in traffic part. I let Jenni drive and it was an eyue-opener for her. It's not like driving in Maryville, Missouri!

After we FINALLY got to the nice relaxing drive on the Palisades Parkway and the rest of our trip north, there were some road closures due to flooding. Fortunately, we didn't have many problems with that. We got up here about 10:30 last night, got to hug Meghan a lot, got a quick tour of the place in the dark, and she told us that today was "Breakfast in Bed." Sounded nice after our trip.

Oh. The "Breakfast in Bed" was for the campers, and the breakfast was to be made by the adult visitors. So, we were up this morning, reporting for duty in the kitchen and making egg McMuffin things with the others. It was actually fun. I worked frying eggs with a corporate attorney and an attorney with the DOJ.

I just can't escape attorneys.

Anyway, this is these are views from our cabin porch.

Meghan has the day off today, and we're getting ready to hike up Panther Mountain.

Wish me luck.

Delayed - Part Tres

That's the conversation going on behind us. Omg! Omg!

--

Mobile Email from a Cingular Wireless Customer http://www.cingular.com

Delayed .- Part Deux

This won't let me send much at a time. The commercial with the cheerleader babbling on the phone?

--

Mobile Email from a Cingular Wireless Customer http://www.cingular.com

Delayed!

Help! American airlines is holding us captive on the taxi way. We get to sit here for 90 minutes.

--

Mobile Email from a Cingular Wireless Customer http://www.cingular.com

Test

Test

--

Mobile Email from a Cingular Wireless Customer http://www.cingular.com

THIS IS FUN

Clink on This Link and then enter your name. Turn up your speakers.

Enjoy!

Hmmm. Now I'm in the mood for a Klondike Bar.

RELEASING MY INNER GLADYS KRAVITZ

My Inner Gladys Kravitz has been screaming to get out, so this post is her release.








First of all, I covet my neighbor's porch. Last summer, he worked very hard on remodeling it, and this summer, he's working on the landscaping.

The privet fence surrounding his property had been quite tall and blocked my view. This spring, he was courteous enough to tear all of that out and is currently replacing it with some shrubbery of a much smaller size.

The yard chores at my place are the responsibility of my neighbor in my duplex, J. The landlord had offered him a reduction in rent if he took care of the landscaping. They are currently having a difference of opinion on the translation of "taking care of the landscaping". The landlord's interpretation is mowing it when it needs it, and weed-eating. J's interpretation is mowing it once a month whether it needs it or not, and he chooses not to eat weeds.

My other neighbors mow at least once a week, and bag the clippings. Trust me, "bagging the clippings" is not in J's vocabulary. So, the grass in our yard is either quite long, or is lying about the lawn in need of being baled. We are the neighborhood eyesore.

Please note the tuft of long grass in the first photo (not the one of Gladys). I don't know why, but that particular spot does not get mowed. Nor does it get hit with the weed-whacker.

And after mowing, the sidewalk also doesn't get swept.






And then there are the weeds growing everywhere.

One time last year, I saw him mow around a newspaper. After the newspaper was removed, the long grass stayed there (until I pulled it out by hand). I wasn't here yesterday, but apparently he must have at least kicked the newspaper out of the way several times when he mowed. I thought I had picked up all of the newspapers, but he apparently thinks that one is mine.

So, since today is a nice cool day and since I've been complaining to you all about this, I'll spend this afternoon sweeping the sidewalk and pulling weeds. Am I being an enabler? I don't care; I'm tired of being the neighborhood eyesore.

However, I am NOT going to rake the grass clippings. Mainly because I don't have a rake.

IT'S CRAP CAM PICTURE TIME!!!

Gather 'round, Kiddies. I have some really bad shots from my camera phone to share with you.

I have an ulterior motive for doing this, however.

My son-in-law, Tim, is at this moment, playing in a 3-on-3 basketball tournament in the area. And by "in the area", I mean, over an hour away in Troy, Missouri. Every summer, he and his buddies compete in the Gus Macker Tournaments. During yesterday's events, we determined that Gus Macker is the patron saint of basketball being played on asphalt on a hot summer day. I'm not there today because, well, I overslept.

Anyway, I didn't have my real camera with me yesterday, but had my camera phone. I've asked Tim to send the pictures taken with his camera, and as an incentive, I'm posting these bad shots to inspire him to send the good ones.

Yesterday's earlier performances were less than stellar, but the guys (Tim, Travis, Dave and Bill) improved the last game they played. I honestly thought they were going to win that one, but they ended up losing 11-15. Oh well. The game was tied at 11-11 for quite some time. A nail biter.

See? I usually have beautifully manicured nails.

And here is the album of crappy pictures.

Wade was there playing basketball and I have photographic proof. If you squint real hard, you can see him in his jersey underneath the tree and above that girl's head. Or you will just have to take my word for it.

You will also have to take my word for it that somewhere out there is a basketball game going on. The girl in the ponytail with her back to us is Jenni. She's wearing the t-shirt I bought her at BB King's when I was in Memphis a couple of months ago. She's wearing it because she has the kind of Mommy who goes someplace neat and buys her kids lousy t-shirts to give to them. Tim has a matching one. Meghan.... I think I have a coffee cup for her, actually.




During a break in the action, while we were eating lunch, I caught the tail end of a conversation. One of Tim's friends, Bill, was talking about seeing Sonya Kitchell performing. The way he talked about her, I thought he knew her. Later, some other friends showed up, and I thought they said their names were Jeff and Sonya. A celebrity amongst us? I hadn't seen Sonya Kitchell, so I didn't know if she was as blonde as her name sounds. But that is "Sonya" sitting next to Jenni. I later found out that is Sarah, and her husband Jeff. So, no celebrity sightings.



Well, other than the Wade sighting. Have you found him yet? Remember, squint.

And here is another fine picture of Jenni and Sonya/Sarah's backs.

And for your viewing enjoyment, here is a video taken with my camera phone. I did not know it recorded sound as well, so this has a soundtrack, courtesey of the public address system.

I just previewed the video after uploading it, and I gotta tell you --- lousy. When I viewed it on my hard drive, it was just OK. But during the uploading, the quality dropped to less than a convenience store surveillance video. And the sound disappeared. This is my first attempt at linking to a video and obviously, I need to study up on this.

But not today. There is capuccino to be consumed and kids to visit. The last game should be over in a few minutes and they will be returning to shower and pack before heading back home.

DRIVE-BY BLOGGING

I may have to start taking my laptop with me on the bus. On the rides to and from work, I think up all kinds of things to post here. But once I get off the bus, I'm either too busy or I sit down to write and get hit by that blank screen and a blank mind.

Previews of upcoming posts: The staining and varnishing weekend(s) and Jenni's and Tim's new house; the new addition to our family, Little Miss Annarae; and an update from the files of my inner Gladys Kravitz. Then there's the upcoming trip to New York, and Jenni and Tim's move into their new house.

Yup. I just may need to take the laptop on the bus.

In the meantime, I leave you with this shot of newborn loveliness; my new grand-niece, Annarae.

CLEANING OUT THE BLOG CLOSET

I have a number of things on which I've been wanting to pontificate.

1. Update on my flight last weekend. I had the "B" ticket. I was told, probably not a problem, especially if I got there fairly early and was towards the head of the "B" line. Wellllllllllllllll, there's this problem I have with TSA agents. They hate me. The first time I flew after 9/11 was the second weekend that planes were allowed in the air. I was told to send my cardigan through the machine since it had metal buttons. The TSA agents gathered around the screen to look at the bag that was on the conveyor belt behind my sweater. Conferences were held over the bag. Supervisors were called over. But because the conveyor belt was halted, my sweater was still on the conveyor belt out of reach.

Me: Can I have my sweater, please?

Agent: (glances my way and says nothing)

Me: (To another TSA agent): May I have my sweater, please? It's stuck on the conveyor belt.

Agent: (Glances my way and says nothing)

Me: (To YET ANOTHER TSA agent): My sweater is stranded on the conveyor belt. Could you get it for me, please?

Pimply-Faced Agent Who Hit Puberty on 9/12: Ma'am! We are all fighting terrorism here. You will have to be patient.

TSA Agent Who Overheard This and takes my sweater off the conveyor belt and puts it on a table behind him. Calls over a supervisor.

Supervisor: Yes?

Agent: Could you check out her sweater? She seems to be a little too anxious to get it.

Supervisor: (pause while looking at the now 5 TSA agents grouped around the screen looking at the bag on the conveyor belt): Seriously?

Supervisor: (gets sweater off table and hands to me): Thank you for your patience, Ma'am. (To agents) We CAN do our jobs without pissing off the public.

But ever since that trip, I've made it through security without being stopped three times. And I traveled a lot during that time. Honestly, I think I must have been put on some sort of "list". A friend of mine calls it the "Global threatening Soccer Moms of Kirkwood List".

I was flying to St. Thomas and was stopped in the security gate. Also stopped was a little old lady in a wheel chair and a 12-year old girl. I am so serious about that. A little old lady in a wheelchair, a 12-year old girl and a middle-aged soccer mom. The three of us were being searched for weapons of mass destruction and I SWEAR I saw the Shoe Bomber's brother walk through with a bazooka on his shoulder without any problem.

OK, it wasn't a bazooka. It was some PVC piping, 6 feet long, but he DID look too much like the Shoe Bomber for my tastes. The PVC piping went through the x-ray machine with no problem. AND I WOULD LIKE TO SEE HIM FIT THAT INTO THE LITTLE "IF YOUR LUGGAGE FITS IN HERE, IT'S CARRY ON" BOX, BECAUSE, I DON'T THINK SO!!!!

Where was I?

Oh, yeah. Security. Anyway, this past weekend was no different. I had taken all potential metal-containing objects off me and put them in my purse. My eensy teensy cutesy strappy sandals were put into the bin, because I've learned that my shoes drive metal detectors absofreakinglutely nuts. I took off as much as I could without getting a citation for indecency. I successfully went through the metal detector.

My purse did not.

TSA agents pounced upon it. First, they took the little coffee-filter thing and wiped it down. Then they put the coffee filter thing into some sort of apparatus, punched buttons, waited for it to do whatever it does, it went "Ding" and a light went on which told them, correctly I might add, that my purse did NOT contain any explosives. As if.

Then they dumped it out in front of God and everyone and began to paw through it. Cellphone. iPod. PalmPilot. Wallet. Keys. Meds. An impossible tangled mess of earphones for cellphone and iPod. Makeup.

"What, exactly, had you concerned?" I asked.

"Your keys," I was told.

Excuse me, but doesn't everyone have keys? I didn't want to ask them because I had the feeling that if I asked, I'd be spending the night at Gitmo.

My keys were sent through the x-ray machine and it was determined, correctly I might add, that they WERE keys. Duh.

I grabbed everything, shoved my feet into my eensy teensy cutesy strappy sandals and clip-clopped off to my gate. To find out I was at the end of the "B" line.

I got a middle seat towards the back of the plane. THANKFULLY, I was not in the live-stock section.

As I was standing in the back of the "B" line, I saw a guy emerge from the security gate with a belt looped around his neck, feet shoved into untied tennis shoes and clutching the waist-band of his pants as he dashed down the concourse towards his gate.

Meanwhile, a PVC-Pipe-carrying Shoe Bomber sauntered through the metal detector.

OK, maybe not.

***********************************************

2. Plantar fasciitis sucks. I got nailed with it when I woke up around 2:00 to go potty.

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. I could not stand on my foot at all. Not even on tippytoe. I considered hopping down the hallway to the bathroom. I could hop. OK, I was really sleepy, it was 2 AM and I had quite the full bladder. Hopping? Don't think so.

So..... I laid down on my back and scooted down the hallway to the bathroom, all the while, thinking "thank heaven no one can see me."

Then I blog about it for all the world to know.

Heel pain is doing somewhat better now, by the way.


******************************************************

3. I had more, but I'm tired and I'm going to bed.

WEST BY SOUTHWEST

ADMISSION: TODAY I’M FLYING SOUTHWEST FOR THE FIRST TIME.

Most of my travel in the last few years has been through work, and the flights were all on the major airlines. Due to all of that travel, I had frequent flier miles built up, so when I traveled for vacations, I used up those miles on those major airlines.

Today, I’m flying for the first time on Southwest. I’m feeling extremely intimidated by this due to that quirky “first come, first served” seat assignment rule they have. I’ll admit it, I’ve been spoiled by the other airlines. You know, the ones that let you log onto their websites so you can pick your own seat. And wouldn’t you rather I do that than pick my seat in public? (rimshot).

Little by little, I’m finding out more about how this whole thing really works. It seems that if I REALLY believed it was “first come, first served” I’d be quite the fool. Conceivably, I could get to the airport before anyone else on my flight and end up with a seat in steerage, holding a live chicken on my lap. The secret all seems to be in those alphabetical boarding passes: A, B or C.

So, “First come” actually means “First to log onto your computer and check in online”, which you can start doing 24 hours before your flight. Those “A” boarding passes are so coveted that a website is now available to help you get them. For a $5.00 charge per passenger, you can have Boardfirst.com get you your golden ticket. If they fail to get an “A”, there is no charge and they supply the live chicken.

Being a Southwest novice, I was totally unaware of these intricacies. It was all explained to me ten hours before my flight at which time I rushed to my computer to get my boarding pass. I have a “B” boarding pass.

B

I know that’s not good, but is it at least OK, or am I kinda screwed, seatwise? I e-mailed my daughter and son-in-law to ask them since they’ve flown on Southwest before BUT NEGLECTED TO CLUE ME IN ON THE SECRET OF THE “A” TICKET.

Basically, they were not helpful. Jenni’s response was to “suck it up” as it is a fairly short flight (St. Louis to Kansas City) and if I get a middle seat, I can deal with it. I pointed out to her that I was more concerned about getting my carry-on luggage in an overhead compartment without any hassle. To save time, I don’t want to check it. But being short, I have a tendency to knock people on the noggin when I’m trying to get my luggage into the overhead compartment on crowded flights.

That’s when the short jokes started – lead off by Tim who is 6’4” or something like that. Now, is that nice? I’m flying up there to help them stain and varnish the wood in their new house and I get short jokes?!?!?

(Just kidding, kids. Sort of)

For my return flight, I’ve registered with Boardfirst.com and will hopefully get the coveted “A” boarding pass. But for my flight today, I’ll just have to “suck it up.”

I also heard that Southwest is going to start assigning seats. But that’s scheduled for the year 2007; not before my 6:30 pm flight this evening.

sigh