B.F.B. Friday

While reacquainting myself with the myriad tasks I have to take on with my Favorite Panamanian on the wrong coast I noticed that Buddy the Wonder Pooch had almost eaten his way through yet another of his mongoso bags of dog food. This necessitated a trip to the local big box store where mongoso bags abide. My wife, never one to let one of my activities go unsupervised, provided a list of the other items I should purchase there, complete with coupons (why that embarrasses me I have no idea).

These Two Ladies Seem to be Enjoying Each Other's Company

The end result was a purchase of a huge gob of hamburger in addition to the Buddy bag. While unwinding at First Friday my wife joined us via Facetime. If I was a suspicious individual I would think she’s was checking to see that I was dateless (as if that was an issue with her ardent supporters on all sides of me). I returned home and since dinner was left to my less than completely sober hands I attacked the huge gob. That resulted in two B.F.B.’s. The two B’s stand for Big and Burger, you can figure the rest out.

The BFB's Before Immolation

Buddy was of course fascinated by the process and hoping I would trip over him on way back and forth to the grill. Alas, canine hopes were dashed and I eventually finished off the BFB’s although it was nowhere near as easy as I thought going in. The overall effect was reduce me to near vegetative state as I watched Yankee pitching mow down Red Sox hitters for seemingly the 100^th time in a row. As I emerged from my comatose state later in the evening some old (literally) Bosox magic materialized when Big Papi launched a game winning home run in the bottom of the eighth. Buddy wondered why I was suddenly dancing like it was 2004. It’s always more special when they do it to the Evil Empire. The Yanks will have to be the happiest that Ortiz is retiring this year.

Yeah!!!!

Wingman headed out last night on his farewell tour and I could tell just how heartbroken he was to leave his family. The farewell tour is happening for just that reason. My granddaughter is being eased into solid foods and yesterday was her first exposure to avocado which a friend of my daughter had recommended. I’m concerned that she has received her taste bud genes from her grandfather because she looks to savor the green stuff as much as I do. I wonder how soon before she can have a burger?

The Avocado Attempts

I know, Yuuch!

I am now I the midst of harried housecleaning as a potential renter is coming by to see the house this afternoon. There’s a certain lady out on the west coast very nervous that I’ve been left in charge of house cleanliness when a stranger is allowed into “her” house. Buddy is absolutely no help in this area, following me around to apply cold nose to any window I’ve cleaned. We’re trying to help out the owner of the house we’re renting as much as possible since he’s been a great landlord. The people coming to see the house live two houses down the street, literally across from the house we’re buying. If they take this house late June could be an interesting time at the top of our hill with household goods moving ping ponging back and forth.

California Linkup and Sky Eyes

It was strange yesterday to arrive at work after dropping my Favorite Panamanian off at the airport and then to have her report in from far off California before I left the desk for the day. I’m sure the decibel level in that apartment experienced a quantum leap with her arrival, especially when she first saw our granddaughter. Wingman picked her up at the airport in L.A. and by the time she checked in with me she had the First Blog Reader firmly in gramma grasp.

Together Again!

Buddy seemed a little put out that he was once again consigned to the basement for the work day. He, as well as I, had gotten used to having her around again. We quickly slipped back into winter mode of solitary existence and the dearth of decibels. An unimagined consequence of middle age seems to be added difficulty to these separations without young children scampering around to distract us. Over the past couple of years my wife has given me an object lesson in what life was like during my military career when I would disappear regularly, sometimes for months, when the Army would send me to some garden spot around the world. I think she’s getting the better part of the deal, no sand in her skivvies and a granddaughter.

Wingman Retrieving at LAX

I am going to take some of the tried and true remedies for lonely living. The first was a visit to the movie theater where I saw Eye in the Sky. An excellent look into the world of drone warfare and the staggering capabilities of modern conflict. The plot revolves around a British intelligence operation in Kenya assisted by a US piloted drone. Helen Mirren shines as a British colonel pushing to execute the mission in the face of dithering politicians refusing to make a decision. She’d be even more worried if she saw the drone pilot was none other than Jesse Pinkman, who’s very good as well. I did wonder why he was still a 2d lieutenant after two years in service though.

The mission goes sideways when the video feed shows two suicide bombers garbing up for an attack. While the military desperately wants to attack before they can deploy the politicians keep holding things up and then a young girl sets up a bread table right outside the targeted building. That sets up the fantastic final 1/3 of the movie where undue command influence, the absolute need to kill the terrorists, and the price of collateral damage are slung back and forth. Fantastic acting at all levels and while I’m sure this film was made as an anti-war flick – it’s anything but. It shows in unflinching detail the cost associated at both human and moral levels with an aspect of modern war that almost sounds bloodless in media portrayals but is anything but. Alan Rickman in one of his final roles is superb and utters a fitting rejoinder to one of the ditherers, “Never tell a Soldier the price of war.” A truly great movie – made for adults who are willing to think.

Well back to trying to figure out the ins and outs of the self-contained lifestyle. I’m sure there’s a puzzle in my immediate future.

Alone Again, Naturally

So, she’s off again, winging her way to LaLa Land to assume the grandmother (abuela – por favor) role in the first person. Wingman shortly heads out on his farewell tour and that means day care is called for. I’ve got these early morning runs to Logan International Airport down to a science. In another six or seven hundred tries I might figure out the Central Parking Garage there.

The Standard Farewell Picture at Logan

Note to self – when using Spanish words in a word document – figure out how to re-set the spell check back to English afterwards (and a heartfelt shout out to Microsoft for automatically changing it to Spanish without asking). You wouldn’t want to see one of these posts without a robust spell check. 

I'm Not Sure I Need All the Practice I'm Getting Lately

Back to my geographical bachelorhood status (again); while I surprised myself once more as to how much I’m already missing her, I’m genuinely glad she gets to spend some quality time with the ever more precocious First Blog Reader. Today was doubly fun because I had the prospect of rushing back to Worcester for the monthly board meeting. Nothing starts a day off better than listening to politicians egg each other on to talk more than needed.

Namesake at the Castle

Meanwhile I’ve been watching my namesake nephew make serial posts on Facebook concerning his ongoing, first ever, trip to Florida and all things Disney. I was about the same age he is now when I made my first pilgrimage to Disneyworld. This was something pre-ordained for my entire generation due to the Wonderful World of Color at 7pm on Sundays where we watched Walt explain what Disneyworld would become. I’m glad to see the Magic Kingdom is still living up to its name; if my nephew’s reactions are any indication.

I was rightfully taken to task by a reader for not posting more photos of the grandpuppy as religiously as I do for the granddaughter. Granted it would daunting for any creature to try to compete with her for cuteness but if there is a canine category Riggins would certainly dominate. I blame my son who set his mother up for shared photos but failed to do so for me. So I will alternate photos when I can get them.