Rated X

First "Fifty Shades of Gray"  and now "Sex Box."   Sounds somewhat tedious.

Resolved:

I will stay in my house until the outdoor temperature reaches my age.

Residence Inn

    The appeal is growing, in  the vein of  less is more, clear the clutter, and the little house.   I'm by no means a frequent traveler, but  have stayed  at inns a considerable number of times, including 4 days a year  for 15 of the last 16 years as part of my job. Not all of the inns qualified as residence specifically, though my work also took me to families ensconced in motels for certain periods of time, for various reasons. Those quarters invariably seemed small and overcrowded, as indeed they were, once all the people and their  accumulations of stuff were loaded into the rooms.  So I was not attracted to the idea of that type of living.
    But an epiphany is in the works:   it was only a one-night stay, but it was a residence inn.  Guests could stay at their leisure, and also people whose homes had become temporarily unlivable could reside there for a time.  
      The suite we stayed in was clean and bright and tastefully furnished. Walk in past the coat closet to a kitchen, complete with refrigerator, stove, microwave, dishwasher. In the cabinets a set of dishes and glasses for 4, in the top drawer silverware and the basic utensils, in the deeper cabinets a  mixing bowl, colander, toaster, and a few, and only a few, but who really needs more, pots, pans and a skillet.  Under the sink a spray bottle of cleaner, dish soap atop the sink, with paper towels and towel and dishcloth, a coffee-maker on the counter.  Everything was sparkling new.
     A dinette-sized table and chairs is against the wall, with napkins(cloth), and a basket of condiments, coffee, tea, and cocoa.
     The kitchen/dining area opens onto the living room which contains a convertible couch, chairs, lamps, coffee table, and a desk for internet access, and of course a TV. 
     Pass the recessed closet into the bedroom, and its  bed, dressers, TV, lamps, bedside tables, and another mirror-doored  closet with iron and ironing board, extra linen and bedding.  Adjoining the bedroom is the powder room with seat, wide mirror, vanity sink equipped with hair dryer and fan.  This room opens onto the bathroom, small but with both tub and shower, all the required amenities.
      Since we only brought clothing and toiletries for a single night the suite seems spacious. 
 And it occurs to me that we could indeed live there comfortably.  Washer and dryer are down the hall, and 2 floors away there is a swimming pool with whirlpool tub, as well as a fully equipped workout room. 
       I'm sitting there and thinking that I want my house to be like this.  Except for some more clothing items, I can't think of anything else I would need that isn't there. Cookbooks---all recipes are available on the web.  Who really needs more than 2 cookpots anyway?  Or more than  1 frying pan? Or more than 4 drinking glasses. Or plates.  Or cutlery. Only 1 roast is carved at a time.  Dollar stores and supermarkets have plentiful supplies of plastic ware.  There's no need for 16 bottles of various cleaners under the sink.  Or 2000 plastic bags and 37 pairs of disposable gloves. Why are there bags of old towels stashed in my kitchen closet. Why is the shelf in my tiny bedroom closet packed to the nines with piles of old pillow cases and sheets that  don't really fit the mattresses anymore?  The thought is to purge.
     Our final income tax statement came in the mail today.  I hope I didn't pitch all the paperwork I'll need to do our income taxes.
   
 
   

Oscar in A Nutshell

Lady Gaga didn't sound that hot.  Eddie Murphy seemed bored out of his skull.  Oprah is fat again. 

Minds in Jeopardy

    The category is American poets, and the contestant answers Robert Frost when the correct answer is Walt Whitman.  Most likely, that contestant has studied up on American poetry without having read any of the actual poems. Yes, both writers are poets and American, but their works are no  more similar than those of Edgar Allen Poe and Ogden Nash.   Likewise, if the clue has anything to do with Calcutta, the indicated  response would be "What is Black Hole?"  
   Knowledge used to be gleaned from what a person would read or learn about.  Today's measure of intelligence is based on the number of isolated facts one can cram into one's brain.  Even some returning Jeopardy contestants acknowledge taking time off so they can study for their return matches.  And they're not reading more widely, but perusing books of  accumulated former questions and miscellaneous facts.  How many have read the Iliad or the Odyssey in real time, or know more than a single detail of General Sherman's life? 
    Memorizing thousands upon thousands of assorted details can be a lucrative and rewarding career.  Just ask the kids who participate in the National Spelling Bee or the Geography Contest. 
    But then , Jeopardy does boast that before and after category.......
     

Gone to the Dogs

   I like dogs, most dogs, probably more than I like most people; let's say those of each species who make the news.  A young man, let's call him a loser, burns a dog by pouring some sort of fluid on its head and then lighting it, with a match I guess.  Sadistic behavior, cruelty toward animals at its worst.  That should serve to identify what happened. 
     But the media reports can't stick with the mundane facts, no matter how heinous.  The nine-month old pit bull, weighing about 55 lbs. is not just a dog, but a puppy.  The dog reportedly has second and third degree burns to the ear and eye area; in the TV videos, the burned area  looks rough, though the dog fortunately seems fine. The reporter states that part of the ear may need to be amputated, if it becomes infected.  That's always a possibility.  Before  a person undergoes joint replacement surgery, the caveat is  the worst possible scenario that if infection sets in, it may result in amputation of the limb.  Most people don't dwell on this possibility, but the television viewer is reminded each newscast that the poor puppy may have to endure amputation.  This injured pitbull's ears seem not to have been trimmed, though that is not the case in many of the Westminster Dog Show's contestants. 
     The owner of the dog says he was not there when the dog was set on fire, and he says he waited a day and a half to take the dog to the vet because he does not have a car and had to work.  He has been arrested also, for "failure to provide sustenance."  I  think any time there is more than one excuse, the defense of actions is very weak.  He ultimately did seek medical attention for the dog, though.  So I think it a little over the top when a uniformed spokesperson, police or humane worker I don't know, says that the owner is as guilty as if it were a child who was injured, saying you wouldn't wait 2 days.  I just don't believe children should be equated with animals. 

Hoover Jeopardy

  Tonight's "Final Jeopardy" question, or rather answer, dealt with what 2-word city* the Hoover Tower was located in, and none of the three contenders got it right.  I knew where it was  because I was once stranded at the top of the Hoover Tower.  We were visiting Marilyn, who was teaching a summer youth mathematics course at Stanford.  While she was with her classes, we toured the campus, very large and widespread; it has its own zip code.  We visited the Hoover Tower and took the elevator to the top floor.  I think there were 12 or 15 stories.  I have the ticket stub somewhere so I'll look it up later.  There were probably about a dozen visitors at the top when we were told that the elevator had broken down and we would have to wait for it to be repaired.  They were calling maintenance.  We all waited.  And waited.  We were supposed to meet M for dinner, and time was passing.  Finally, I went to the person at the desk and asked if there was another way down.  Well, yes, she said, but the staircase is locked and we don't have the key here.  If any of us insisted on walking down, they would have to get someone to unlock the staircase, and then we would have to be escorted down.  I said I wanted to walk down the stairs, and as I recall, everybody else did too.  And so we did.  That was years before either of us had any knee issues.  I don't know when they repaired the elevator.
  * The correct response was Loma Linda, but my thought was that the Hoover Tower is in Stanford, which would seem to qualify as a city, though it certainly does not have 2 words in its name.  And I thought Loma Linda was a distance away.  And the site of the Nixon Library?  I'm so confused.
     ****Evidently one of those episodes of "false memory."  The correct Jeopardy answer was Palo Alto.

Winter---Blah

All there is to do is sit around and eat, and speculate as to whether Billy Fuccillo has a thing going  with Maddie.  Seriously.

After all these years

  SNL celebration was on, as soon as I remembered.  I watched only some of it, though now that it's over I wished I'd watched more of it.  I find some of the skits tiresome, and as unfunny now as then.  I listened to most of the show from the kitchen, walking in to look at Paul McCartney and a few others.  But I was most strongly drawn to Paul Simon, "Still Crazy After All These Years."  He looked a little pinched and wan, and his voice is not what it was; age does exact its due.  But there he was, such a nostalgic trip into the past-----no fireworks, no writhing back-up dancers, no explosions of any kind---just one man, one microphone,  captivating an audience with his voice only, though, sure, he did play an invisible keyboard from time to time, flexing his fingers as he sang.  My mind turns to the past and finds this memory:
       Dave and I are in Rochester, attending his company's annual Christmas party.  It's the early 1970's.  We have just 2 kids, and they are at my mother's house, for one night or two, I can't remember.  They are young enough still so that they never leave my mind, though I try not to talk about it.  We are bound to have fun.  It is a party.  There is lots of alcohol involved.  That was the culture and this group of "job shoppers" is well into it.  We stay at a motel, but go to the boss's house for drinks before the party, I think, and I know for certain that we all went there again the morning after, for a mimosa breakfast.  I remember us riding in the back seat of their car on the way to wherever the party was being held, and the boss's wife was singing "Slip Sliding Away" as we actually did slide on the slippery, snow covered road.  She seemed calm, and happy; she was a very pretty, sophisticated woman, married to a wealthy man.  They had 4 children, mostly grown up, maybe one still in high school.  She classified them as 2 being conservative and 2 being liberal, and not in the political sense, but as to their lifestyle.  One son was in the Marines, as I recall, and one daughter was an equestrian, with riding and horses her chosen interest.  Some years later, one daughter married a doctor, and within a few years, was found dead, alone in a car,  in a hospital parking lot, evidently abandoned by whoever drove her there when she overdosed.    But all that was several years later.  At the present, the wife is  singing a Paul Simon tune, seemingly comfortable with her husband's driving along the slick highway, most likely he being somewhat relaxed also by the pre-dinner drinks.  They divorced a short time after that.
        I don't remember much about the party.  There were lots of parties then, and we attended all of them.  Summer parties at the golf club, winter parties where Dave played Santa, parties designed to distribute the profit-sharing feature of employment.  Business was good in those days---the better it was, the more parties there were.  I clearly remember the ride home.  It was a Sunday morning and it was  snowing, lightly at first and then heavily.  The highway was slippery, and we passed several cars which had slid into the ditches.  I so wanted to be home with my kids, and any mother will recognize that feeling you get when you think you may never see them again.  Dave attempted to be reassuring.  He said if we do slide off the road, we'll just get towed out.  The road is open, there's not much traffic, there's nothing to hit.  OK, I tell myself, that's true.  But then on the other side of the road a car is off on the shoulder, on its roof.  How could that happen?  A fluke.  Several miles later, on our side of the road, another vehicle, also on its roof.  I'm pretty sure I'll never see my kids again.  Everything is slip-sliding away.  Thanks, Paul Simon.  But I do love you.
    
     

Lincoln Link Coincidence

   I know some people think it necessary or helpful to pad out an anecdote to make it more succinct, but in this case any amplification would not be needed.  The information would not be important to many, but is remarkable in its unfolding.  Here goes:
         In the early hours of February 12, I sent  my son a Birthday Greeting on FB, and added a memory of the day---that the second choice of name may have been Lincoln.  I remember calling my mother from the hospital, back in the days when visitors except the fathers were not allowed.  I said first that we were naming the baby Abraham.  HaHa.  She was horrified, and I then modified our name choice to Lincoln.  She was no less horrified, knowing there  was no St. Lincoln; of course it was a joke, maybe a slightly cruel one, but with no evil intent. 
         Well, I was never known to have an especially deft touch with humor, and the message was misinterpreted to think a new grandchild may be on the way.  Message corrected, and no harm done.
          Not wanting to do much outside, I  deluded myself into thinking I could clear some clutter, so I set my mind to that. (I am detailing what went through my mind lest others forget that which  may recur at some future time.) I  came across an official document of claim against  D's estate  in the amount of  $64,500, the owner and holder of said claim to be F.M., who is suing for half of the value of the entire estate. I, as fiduciary, had been served.   This would be minus the significant mortgage amounts and minus the payment of debts owed and maintenance of  the property for a full year. And also minus the considerable payoffs to P. Also minus the amount of the sale price lessened by the lender.   For a few hundred bucks, my lawyer had the "claim rejected in it entirety as untimely and without merit."  My lawyer expressed surprise that not only would P. do this, knowing it was rife with lies, but he couldn't understand why the law firm, Persing & O'Leary, which he said was highly regarded, would accept such a case, from P., and who would pay for it.  I did some research, if that's what utilizing FB is, and found a relationship between family members of the law firm, a young woman, and the son and daughter-in-law of P.  And also found that the 2 young couples live in the same town, only a few miles from each other.  Since they knew the entire situation, I would call their actions a blatant attempt at extortion, and on the slimy side. 
    In the course of re-verifying  my earlier suspicions, I inadvertently found that the son and wife had a baby this past year.  Not a surprise because they'd been trying since at least 2011, as he'd told someone, but it was a surprise to learn, since this happened all in one day,  that the baby's name is LINCOLN.

Dead Zone

     Our computer took sick and eventually died a slow and agonizing death, but not before we, I mean they, signed up for at least 3 virus protections and a few scans.  All has been going well until today, when the mouse refused to move.  I fussed and fumed but when I thought to replace the battery, which is essential to our recently purchased wireless remote, computer service resumed.  Yay.
     I was gifted with an automatic car starter last year, but it was March before it was installed.  I seldom need to go out in the cold heart of darkness these days, but a few weeks ago when I had to, I learned that my car starter didn't work.  I found the paperwork, even the box, but no instructions.  I located them online, and learned that the darn thing has a battery which needs replacing every so often.  Fortunately, when I looked in the box, there was a backup remote starter included.  But today when Dan M. came to plow the driveway, my car wouldn't start.  The thought was we needed a new battery, but I think the remote starter botched it, probably because of the "dangerously low" weather.  We'll see. 
    Our television has, for the last month, been very temperamental about starting . Press the remote and the message is to wait, or else the picture comes on and snaps off.  I get so frustrated that the master of the house has stepped up, saying no problem for him, Well, not as long as he holds the button for a certain length of time, points the remote in 2 different directions, and moves close to the set.  OK, let him do it.  But Saturday, the last straw; the television in the bedroom, where I pedal away on my exercise bike, also balked at turning on.  I can't pedal without watching TV, so in desperation, I called Time Warner Customer Service.  The rep was very helpful, and after a few false starts, she rebooted the cable box and all seemed well.  The TV in the living room worked fine, but later in the day, when I tried to turn on the other set, it was completely dead.  I didn't even know where the manual controls were, never having used them, and found them most inconveniently located on the very top back of the set, and nothing I did seemed to affect anything.  Relying on previous experience, I put new batteries in the remote, and Voila, there was success. 
       Our bathroom toilet also went haywire this week, at first with  a constant flow of water running through it, and later refusing to let any water through at all.  A replacement handle seems to have it back on track---here's hoping.
    I don't know why so many utilities malfunctioned in such a short period of time.  I should probably check those in the smoke alarm.  I'm glad we don't have pacemakers.
    

 

Rear View Mirror

  I have just read David Carr's account of his addiction, and seen his interview on the Colbert Report, where he states that he is capable, sporadically,  of imitating a human being and I can pompously say that Plato's Allegory of the Cave comes to mind.  We aren't able to see any truth if we try to depend on our senses.  Else there wouldn't be so many versions of what has or is happening.  We can find the truth only by intellectualizing, and most of us never find the way to do so. David Carr struggles with this predicament and his awareness  makes his account  compelling.  (It seems so profound, my changing of the font, and so appropriate somehow, the more so because it occurred spontaneously and I lack the ability to undo it.) 

Live and learn

A word that was new to me:  tenebrific.   If I were taking a vocabulary test and had to  use it in a sentence, I guess I might write that everything now seems to be tenebrific. 
   I suspect the only time the word has been used in recent times may have been in the National Spelling Bee contest.  "May I have the derivation, please?"

Heartwarming Alert

   Awww.  What can you say.  A little dog in Iowa ran away from home and traveled many city blocks to find its owner confined to a hospital bed.  Doggies are not allowed in hospital, but an exception was  made in this case, after the little thing had managed to make the trek.   Such a feel-good story, rather like a bunch of kids from Chicago's mean streets winning a World Championship.

Parent Tap

    He was on the couch, game in hand.  The news was on with the story from Great Britain about a technique to avoid congenital birth defects by involving a "third parent" in the mix.  I  asked the 7-year-old what he thought about the possibility of a child's having three parents.  He answered right away that he thought it would work out.  In his family, he said, there are three kids, so three parents would seem to be a good idea.  "But," he added, "I'm sticking with Mom."  

Could be it's just me....

.....But, at last night's Grammys, did anyone notice that Rhianna, demurely clad in pantsuit, kept grabbing her crotch?  Or that Sia engages in what would be considered child abuse if not in the entertainment venue?  During the insanity number with a child only 12 years of age-----undressing each other and grabbing her behind, and participating in a suicidal pas de deux with crazed manifestations.  When the "Chandelier" video was shot, Maddie, the young dancer from "Dance Moms,"  was only 11.  Maybe that's why Sia refuses to show her face in public.   The emperor needs new clothes.

Purple Pain

 We were on Skype.  Annabel was looking forward to seeing Katie Perry.  As soon as Katie appeared on screen, Annabel let out a howl and burst into tears.  "What's wrong, Annabel?"   "Wah, I don't want Katy Perry to have purple hair.  Waa, wah!"    She wanted her to be wearing a ponytail and  be riding a tiger, it seems.
    I could have cried a little myself.  All those old people----Tom Jones, Barry Gibb, Paul McCartney.  The ugliest dress I've ever seen.  Thinking Miranda Lambert looked slightly bulgy and a little desperate until Madonna took the stage, and trumped her.  And they didn't even have purple hair.  Of the 5 songs up for the best, I didn't care which one won, as long as it wasn't "Happy,"  and it won.  Silly lyrics, simplistic melody, and Pharrell in a tux with capri-length pants.  Oh well, it's all about the tweets anyway.