Hallowed Weenies

Today is Halloween so I did appropriate cinematic homage by scaring myself silly late last night with a horror movie.  When I was a kid heading upstairs after a scary movie I had to turn out the lights before I did so.  I always imagined there was some kind of very toothy demon right at the edge of the darkness grasping for me as I sprinted for the safety of the lit upstairs. Kind of crazy that I can still do that to myself this late into my middle aged dotage. Luckily the demon has lost a step or two since I can still out “run” him.  My wife’s been around me long enough not to question when I arrive in the bedroom at a dead spirit, slightly out of breath.  I try to explain that I’m anxious for her company but she simply says, “Scary movie, verdad!”

College Roommate back in the 70's
I Guess We can Blame Him for Today's Youth's Inability to Correctly Wear a Baseball Cap

Lots of birthdays this week including some people I truly cherish (it’s very cold around these parts in January).  College Roommate is on that list marking his day yesterday.  We’ve known each other since the 6^th grade and became good friends in high school culminating in rooming together for our sophomore year at college.  He lived along Spofford Lake and hosted some of the most epic parties of my youth.  I will forever remember navigating in the country black of night down to his beach by looking up to see the stars in the gap through the trees that marked the trail.  The party always ended up with a huge bonfire which allowed me to give full throat to my pyromaniac side.  The less said about the late night runs to Route 9 the better.  We share a love of beer, sports, and women clearly out of our league.  I’m proud to call him friend.

I remember a lot of the Halloweens as a kid when things were a whole lot safer and parents weren’t as omnipresent.  I cannot remember a single costume I wore which tells you how memorable they were but I know my parents never accompanied us.  I remember grabbing a pillow case and heading out with the Cantankerous One and several other friends to pillage the local front porches for candy.  Nowadays even older kids seem to require parental supervision for these transactions.  Is it really that much more dangerous?  I wonder where we lost the confidence.

The wife and I went to see St. Vincent last night which was a very pleasant surprise.  We expected a movie with Bill Murray and Melissa McCarthy be an over the top, slap stick type comedy.  It’s so much more than that.  Murray plays his usual elder loser type but provides just enough nuance to hint at greater depth.  He volunteers to babysit the son of his new neighbor (McCarthy) and makes no allowance for the tender age of his charge.

The movie does a very good job of demonstrating the need for courage in life and the importance of taking some chances.  Both McCarthy and Murray don’t go for cheap laughs which would have doomed this story.  The actor playing the son is very, very good, similar to one of the early Culkins.  I’m a sucker for any movie with heart and this one has plenty.

I was very glad to see that law enforcement finally caught up with that idiot who killed the State Trooper in the Pennsylvania.  He killed the cop in a cowardly sniper attack and has been running around the Poconos ever since.  After his arrest, which I'm surprised he survived, he was cuffed with the slain officer's handcuffs and transported in the same officer's car.  I'll never post a picture of one of this type idiot but ask you to take moment to honor the service and sacrifice of his victim, Corporal Byron Dickson.

R.I.P.

The Red Sox did't wait long after the World Series to start shoring up their pitching.  They re-signed Koji yesterday. This is a great first step even if he's nearly as old as I am.  If the past post season taught us anything it is the importance of a solid bullpen.  

Welcome Back Koj!

End Reign

The Red Sox reign as the Word Series Champions ended last night when the San Francisco Giants were crowned.  My wife and I were rooting for the plucky Royals but the Giants earned the win or more correctly Madison Bumgarner earned the win.  There should be plans in the city by the bay for a street named in his honor because clearly they would not have won without him.  The Royals were simply incapable of scoring against him. 

I can now openly criticize the Red Sox without feeling disloyal or unappreciative.  I hope they were watching to see they’ll need to knock some of the rust off their effort level going into next year, well that and acquire some semblance of starting pitching.

The Cantankerous Friend surfaced again yesterday riding to the rescue of the idiot Maine Ebola nurse.  The Cantankerous Friend spent the last couple weeks creating a bright blue dot to scar the Red Zone state of South Carolina.  I’m glad he survived the experience; I’m guessing he wasn’t as strident while there.

Since tomorrow is Halloween it’s appropriate to once again mention the scariest movie ever made - The Exorcist.  Seeing this movie when it first came out with Keene Friend and my valiant older sister was hands down the most scared I have ever been in my life (well that and my wedding day).  I’ve been shot at and was not as frightened as I was during that movie.  I can remember begging the characters not to go down the hallway leading to the possessed girl’s room again.  This movie haunted me for years (I don’t think it’s finished with me yet). 

Damned Cat!!!!

Trying to sleep the night after watching the Exorcist for the first time I got an even bigger scare which I’m surprised my heart survived.  While I lay wide awake staring at the ceiling, still petrified from my cinematic experience, a less than beloved household cat peered down at me from her perch on top of a dresser next to my bed.   The ambient moonlight made her eyes glow green in a fair semblance of Linda Blair’s worst moments.  I was petrified, until I figured out it was the soon to be airborne qualified feline.

Golden Vengeance

An early week surprise with a son lunch which went a long way in setting the day for success.  His new work schedule isn’t as predictable as earlier which required this.  This means I’ll have to get through hump day today without the usual injection of morale he provides but the residual effects of yesterday should suffice.  We compared fantasy football machinations as well as upcoming cinematic events.  We are both devotees of horror movies so we had plenty to talk about with the annual Pre-Halloween fright fest stalking theaters.  We both married women who wouldn’t set foot in a movie theater showing a scary movie.  Such is life.

Son and I Yesterday

My wife, while avoiding horror movies, attacked the remnants of her garden yesterday.  She’s trying to salvage some of her majestic dahlias for next year.  She bemoaned the fact we live in such northern climes (a recurring theme) that the bulbs have to be removed each autumn to prevent freezing.  We spent some time on the deck last night dipping the bulbs in bleach before bringing them to the basement to dry.  I’ll have to keep an eye on the Wonder Pooch because he took an unhealthy interest in these new additions to what he considers his space.  I could see the wheels turning in his head trying to translate these exotic new smells into something edible.

Buddy's Fascinating "Snack"?

Date night called for an action movie and John Wick more than delivered.  It’s a cross breed of Shoot ‘Em Up and Payback with Keanu Reeves as a very dangerous hero.  He plays a retired mob hit man who, shortly after the death of his wife, is wronged by the son of a former associate.  Reeves then spends the rest of the movie relentlessly chasing Theon Greyjoy all over New York City with legions of double tapped Russian mobsters in his wake.

This is exactly what you expect going into an action/revenge flick; it doesn’t apologize for the cartoon level of violence but revels in it.  The pace is outstanding and Reeves is surprisingly good even though he only says six or seven words for the entire movie (probably a correlation there).  There’s a very cool vibe to this movie, a real win for Keanu, thoroughly enjoyable, as long as you can stomach multiple head shots and a dead puppy.

I’ve done an inadequate job explaining my fascination, bordering on worship of Travis McGee.  I finished another one yesterday - Deadly Shade of Gold.  This is the book where MacDonald really seemed to hit his stride with McGee, probably the point in his writing career he realized he had a bona fide hit on his hands.  He makes an effort to fully explain his hero in the following passage which contains my new favorite saying:  

“All that remains for the McGee is an ironic Knighthood, a spavined steed, second class armor, a dubious lance, a bent broadsword, and the chance, now and again, to lift into a galumphing charge against capital “E” evil, his brave battle oaths marred by the occasional hysterical giggle.  He has to carry a very long banner because on it has been embroidered, by maidens galore, The Only Thing in the World Worth a Damn is the Strange, Touching, Pathetic Awesome Nobility of the Individual Human Spirit.  The end of the banner trails on the ground, way the hell behind his horse, and people keep stepping on it.”

In Deadly Shade of Gold McGee is seeking out the truth behind the cold blooded killing of one of his friends.  He travels from Florida to Mexico to Los Angeles unwinding the thread back to those responsible. 

“This time they had taken one of mine.  One of the displaced ones.  A fellow refugee from a plastic structured culture, uninsured, unadjusted, unconvinced.  So I had to have a little word or two with the account closers.  This was what I had been trying not to admit to myself.  It wasn’t dramatics.  It wasn’t a juvenile taste for vengeance.  It was just a cold, searching speculative curiosity.  What makes you people think it’s that easy?  That was the question I wanted to ask them.  I would ask the question even though I already had the answer.  It isn’t.”

There’s the usual bevy of poignant ladies along the way as McGee eases his way to the truth.  This is the first McGee novel I clearly remember reading but it still was fresh since only the bare outline of the plot was remembered.  This marks the first book where McGee’s iconic friend Meyers appears for some true interaction.  Yet another beloved old friend I was reunited with.  Mexico was entirely more rustic in the time this book was written but once again I was struck by how well MacDonald’s work stands the test of time.  

Ebolotomized and Decade Long Sublimity

Before I launch into my daily rant I should preface my remarks by stating without equivocation that I hold nurses in general and the nursing profession as a whole in the very highest of regard.  I was raised by a nurse, almost married one, and my sister is a nurse.  I could not think any higher of them – they are nobility personified.  That is probably why I reacted the way I did when the self-important idiot nurse who returned from the Ebola ravaged zone, was placed in quarantine and then loudly claimed her civil rights were abused.

Get Over Yourself

I’m the first one to take the news media to task for over dramatizing “news” to be more entertaining and they’ve certainly ratcheted up the panic level with their breathless covering of all things Ebola related.  However if I’m a nurse returning from West Africa where I had daily contact with Ebola victims and I have a fever during airport screening I would demand to be sent to quarantine – not complain about it.  Grow up – you embarrassed your entire profession.

On a decidedly happier note – yesterday marked the ten year anniversary of the miracle that was the 2004 Red Sox.  People outside of New England will never fully understand what that meant to us.  There are times when sport transcends and lifts.  I can still remember the mad dance I did behind the couch in our Virginia home when the last out was made completely delirious while screaming – “They did it!!”  They did it the right way by going through the hated Yankees in a fashion that forever shattered that team’s illusionary dominance.  That raggedy team of bearded wonders will always occupy a very special compartment in my heart. Just remembering those moments make me smile.

Thank You Guys 

It would not be appropriate to finish today’s blog without noting our epic victory in fantasy football over our long time tormentor – our daughter.  My wife and I watched on pins and needles as we gradually pulled ahead last night.  Our daughter was a gallant foe but Garcon could not hope to match Murray even with all his fumbles.  The win is fitting revenge for the pummeling we endured in our first ever fantasy football game at her hands.  It doesn’t range up there with the win over the Yankees, but it’s in the same ball park.

My Son and The ABFA were At Gillette to Steer the Pats to an Epic Victory

Tater Spot Relationships

The Last of a Truly Epic Autumn as Seen from Font Porch

I was on double secret probation yesterday for a fashion faux pas (something of a signature move for me).  My wife was too busy with some early morning yoga to properly inspect my chosen attire for church.  I wore the same pants I had on Saturday which she proclaimed was totally inappropriate. I was a little surly until I noticed a large smudge on one of the pant legs (it’s always worse when she’s absolutely right).  I spent the entire church service trying to surreptitiously cover the offending stain with my left hand.

View out the Window From Couch Potato Position #1

Safely attired in my clean lounge pants I settled in for an afternoon posting at Couch Potato Position #1 for the Patriots’ game and then the mesmerizing Red Zone.  I had ill-advisedly taunted our opponent in this week’s fantasy football game, our daughter, after some Thursday night success.  Her team came out roaring and quickly erased what had been a substantial lead, most of it courtesy of Sir Thomas Brady. I even sat my best tight end because I didn’t want to root for someone playing against the Patriots. 

Gronk Is Back!!

That’s kind of the cool thing about fantasy football – I was getting creamed but I could not have been happier as Brady led the Patriots to a convincing win over a dysfunctional Chicago Bears team.  The best thing about the game was the stout defense that Swami Belichick has obviously convinced to drink his Kool Aid. Buddy spent the entire game dive bombing our position from behind the couch.  He couldn't get at the snacks from the front so we had to contend with a continuous flank attack. When food is involved he loses his tenuous grip on reality.  His head would appear between my wife and I from behind the couch without warning whenever food made it's way towards our mouths.

Kind of Sums up the Day For Chicago

The epic battle with my daughter continued in the late games as I was forced to endure one of her players wearing probably the single ugliest uniform in sports history rack up touchdown after touchdown.  

C'Mon - Seriously!

By the end of the night my daughter and we are in a virtual tie with one player each left in tonight’s game.  I just have to hope Demarco Murray outplays Pierre Garcon tonight.  I like our chances.

The best thing about fantasy football, without doubt, is that I finally have someone to spend the afternoon watching the games with – my favorite Panamanian.  Granted she doesn’t truly understand the game (whatsoever) but she’s taken up a loyal spot next to me for the entire season while she monitors how our fantasy team is doing.  It’s funny that all these years and a substantial amount of scorn hurled at my Sunday afternoon sabbaticals from life that she finds herself seated next to me now.  As I write this I find myself waxing philosophic about the nature of relationships. 

Relationships are tough as there has to be a mutual sense of worth.  The difficult part is that some of that worth has to come from the other person or the relationship will fail.  There have been times when I think I’m doing my wife a favor and end up getting in trouble because I’ve intruded into something she considers her responsibility.  Obviously this goes both ways and I’ve found myself irrationally brusque when she’s done the same thing to me.  So finding a fellow football fan in my wife after thirty years speaks to me.  It eloquently demonstrates why life is so interesting; because, with the right person, it’s all about the search – learning about each other.  Her anger at me before church is more understandable in this light.  I had wandered into her area of responsibility – making sure I wear presentable clothes.  

Inventive Grazing

The first Saturday in what seems like a long time that we didn’t have anything planned.  We did receive a late notice for a house showing late in the afternoon so my wife was in DEFCON 8 cleaning mode all day.  I assisted in my own incompetent fashion (her words not mine) before I decided the front yard and the accumulation of Nor’easter induced leaves needed my attention.  I think she acquiesced to simply get me out of the way.

My innate laziness must tap into my moribund creative side because, as I wrote earlier this week, the leaves were so thick that my usual approach of mowing them up would not work.  Or so I thought!  In the never-ending battle to avoid actually raking leaves I came up with a bastardized system involving our rubbish bin and the lawn tractor.  I tried this a couple times unsuccessfully but yesterday I worked all the bugs out.

Front Yard Before

I would make one pass on the lawn and then dump the leaves in the bin, pack the leaves and then repeat eight or nine times.  This left me with a huge bin packed with leaves that had to get to the far side of the back yard.  I worked out a way that I could reach out and hand tow the bin to the side while going slowly on the tractor.  I’m sure I looked semi-ridiculous moving around the yard but I successfully avoided the rake once again!

And After

When it came time for the showing my wife and I were of different minds about what we should do while we vacated the house.  I thought our Herculean cleaning efforts (well at least hers) deserved a short sojourn at the neighborhood bar (my default reaction to free time).  She wanted to go grocery shopping.  We had a lively debate and on our way to the grocery shopping she relented by saying she would be quick and we would still have time for a touch and go at the bar. 

I should have known better.  Buddy and I spent the better part of an hour waiting for her out in the parking lot listening to various sports programming on the radio.  Buddy would occasionally break up the monotony by barking furiously at anybody approaching within 50 yards of the car.  His timing was impeccable because this usually happened just as I dozed off from all the fresh air I consumed while moving leaves.

When asked why it had taken so long my wife blithely replied that she had to consider each decision to insure it was correct.  I knew she was incapable of my method of shopping which involves entering the store finding what you want and then purchasing it.  She inevitably gets distracted and starts what I call – grazing.  Now you understand why I chose to remain in the car with the Wonder Pooch – of such decisions are successful marriages built.

My Parking Lot Guardian Yesterday

We returned home and had just taken our shoes off when the doorbell rang and Buddy launched into his normal paroxysm of terrorizing guard dog mentality.  While holding Buddy at bay I was greeted by the realtor who was supposed to come at 4.  She explained there had been a mix up and they were here to see the house.  We hadn’t had time to sully our earlier work so my wife went next door for grandmother training while Buddy and I went for an extended walk.  The Wonder Pooch must have wondered at his varied adventures of the day as he was certainly the only one enjoying them.  

Frisky Friday

I really needed yesterday.  Even Irish ballads and Travis McGee couldn’t completely lift the doldrums of three days of cold, late October rain.  The Nor’easter finally left for Canada and allowed a half day of sunshine for our bruised spirits.

An even better salve was an early First Friday celebration at Brew City.  Along with the regulars we had some co-workers who’d achieved “lightweight” status for their spotty attendance record at First Friday show up.  This event has genuinely evolved into a semblance of those cherished Friday afternoons from my military career.  After a tough week at work it was fun to gather with my co-workers and blow off the requisite steam.

When I was serving in an infantry unit the officers invariably ended up along the bar at the nearest Officer’s Club to conduct a thorough after action review of the week past.  It was a feeling of brotherhood and shared goals without focus on rank or position.  It also contributed significantly to our work precisely because rank and position were not as important; oh did I mention the beer!. 

In news sure to make the ABFA happy my realtor called to say it was time to discuss lowering the price of the house.  I told her since it was only going to be on the market for another couple weeks I would not do that and handcuff me with a lower price when it goes back on in the spring.  I’ve resigned myself to not selling before it goes off the market on November 15 and I’m completely okay with that.  The prospect of leaving this house turned out to be a lot harder than I imagined.

Zorba's Last Night With my Date

First Friday frivolity was followed with dinner date with a gorgeous Panamanian which was the final piece of the resolution to the doldrums issue.   She’d spent part of the day applying her nascent grandmother skills with the next door neighbor’s twin babies.  She was gushing just a bit about how cute they are.  She also caught me up on the tropical shenanigans of the Panagals, a source of never ending amusement. My excesses at the recently enjoyed Pumpkinfest means I’m back on a strict keto diet for a couple weeks so no pizza was in play.  I assuaged that pain with a healthy hunk of prime rib and somehow survived.  I pronounce the rain/work induced doldrums professionally expunged.

PanaGal Sighting in Panama
My Wife's Twin Sister with Orange Hair
The Teachers Get to Dress up for Some Arcane Reason

Rain Outfoxed

There’s something about a persistently raining day that calls for Irish ballads.  As I drove in this morning through the third day of rain I was lucky enough to have my old friend Seamus Kennedy playing which went a long way towards alleviating the inherent gloom this type weather inflicts.  Seamus also helped pass the time as I waded through the second straight day of uncommonly brutal traffic.  Why does rain seem to rob a certain percentage of people of their competence on the roadway?

If You've Never Heard Seamus - I Find You Lacking

I hate sitting in traffic almost as much as I hate shopping.  It was one of the main reasons when I left the military I chose not to live in the Northern Virginia area where the rhythms of life are dictated by the horrendous traffic.  Your social standing there can skyrocket if you know how to bypass the worst of it.  Every time someone around here complains about having to wait five minutes in traffic I tell them to count themselves fortunate they weren’t imprisoned on I-395 with an important Pentagon meeting’s start time inexorably advancing on you.

 Son with Semi-Goatee and I on Wednesday

I failed to mention yesterday in my Canadian think to mention I lucked into a hump day lunch with my favorite son.  He’s bravely trying to grow a goatee with limited resources.  Our conversation covered some fantasy football tactics where he bemoaned the ABFA’s over the top reaction to her stunning victory over him.  He’s about to move to another project which will prevent these lunches so I have to sneak in as many as possible.  It’s almost like recharging parental batteries just to spend time with either of the kids.  I hope they don’t mind donating the energy.

I finished yet another Travis McGee novel yesterday, The Quick Red Fox.  I’m trying to slow myself down and savor reconnecting with this old friend but MacDonald is just too compelling.  Trav picks up a movie star client who’s trying to stop a blackmailer in possession of some incriminating photos.  This was the 1960’s, so well before these type photos wouldn’t immediately appear on the internet and at a time when a movie star’s reputation really mattered.

Trav crisscrosses the US accompanied by a complicated female assistant who comes to appreciate the depth of McGee’s soul, among other things.  I liked what MacDonald had to say about the illusion of celebrity relevance.  Maybe I can trace my own disdain back to reading this book in my youth.  The climatic events were typically bittersweet with McGee headed back to the Busted Flush with another bruise on his battered soul.  As with any McGee novel the wordsmithing was on the galactic level of competence.  Here’s McGee waxing about the demise of one of his (and my) favorite cities, San Francisco:

“She was like a wild classy kook of a gal, one of those rain walkers, laughing gray eyes, tousle of dark hair-sea misty, a lithe and lively lady, who could laugh at you or with you, and at herself when needs be.  A sayer of strange and lovely things.  A girl to be in love with, with love like a heady magic.  But she had lost it, boy.  She used to give it away, and now she sells it to the tourists.  She imitates herself.  The things she says now are mechanical and memorized.  She overcharges for cynical services…..That’s why she’s so depressing to those of us who knew her when.  We all know what she could have been, and we all know the lousy choice she made.  She has driven away the ones who loved her best.”

I felt a little guilty after reading this because I’m one of those tourists the city by the bay lifted her skirts for.  Could this be the discovery of the genesis of my obsession with that city?  The newest NFL fan, my wife, demanded to approve some fantasy football roster movies I made before last night’s game (I’m not kidding).  We’re up against our daughter again this week so the prospects are dim.  However we did get off to a good start and my wife took solace in approving my roster moves when one of the players I activated scored 3 touchdowns.  We just need to get the ABFA’s parents some help now – they started a guy last night that’s on the disabled list (3^rd week in a row) and have three other players on bye this week.  My sister and brother in law heartily hope they don’t see this post.  My wife insisted we message the ABFA last night about her own roster since her husband has abrogated that role.

Finally, today marks the First Friday of The Week, cue the happy feet!

Oh, Oh Canada

Ottawa Yesterday

The evil cloud of Islamic extremism manifested itself in Canada over the past few days culminating with yesterday’s shooting of a ceremonial Soldier in Ottawa.  Earlier in the week a couple of Canadian Soldiers were run down by another idiot.  With typical Canadian efficiency both of the morons were immediately consigned to their just rewards. 

Victim - Cpl. Nathan Cirillo - Hero

The progressives, along with the omnipresent Islamic “charities”(wink wink), are probably throwing their hands up in the air bemoaning the marginalization of the perpetrators that “provoked” these attacks.  These attacks are more a sign of desperation and ineptitude.  A couple of career criminals are converted to Islam and then stage these attacks.  This is the best ISIS can do?  I mean the Ottawa shooter was taken down by a ceremonial Parliamentarian dude. 

The "Terrorist" Was No Match for this Guy - Hero #2

Every right minded person stands with Canada today and dismisses the concept that we are “terrorized” or that any dialogue is possible with the brain dead medievalists behind the attacks. The cancer of Wahhabi radicalism has to be excised from modern society; it simply has no place in a civilized environment.  The root of this evil can be found in Saudi Arabia who tacitly supports the precepts of radical Islam and then conveniently exports the hatred outside their borders so the burgeoning status quo of the royal Saud line is maintained.  These fanatics cannot be reasoned with and certainly cannot be allowed to establish the safe haven they’ve carved out of northern Syria and Iraq – they can only be killed; much like the mad dogs they are.

Back in my severely mundane world the Nor’easter I was talking smack about yesterday showed up with a vengeance last night.  Our house on the hill was creaking all night as we were battered with some gale force winds and rain.  My wife and I were worried the Wonder Pooch would have to go into isolation once the thunderstorms showed up but he slept through the lightning storms.  We were forced to remain motionless for nearly 45 minutes in the hopes he would stay asleep.

Front Yard This Morning

I awoke this morning to find my crafty plan to have the Nor-Ester scour all the leaves out of my front yard had failed miserably.  Most of the trees had been stripped of their foliage by the high winds but were so wet they dropped right into my front yard.  While I’m sure my neighbors appreciated the failure of my plan I’m not sure the lawn mower is up to this amount of leaves.  I might actually have some work to do.

Descent Furious

Yesterday was supposed to be the start of a three day storm that any self-respecting New Englander recognizes as a Nor’Easter.  Mysteriously the storm failed to arrive as scheduled in Central New England and we were afforded one more day of nice, if a little brisk, weather.  This permitted my wife to exit the house and work in the yard; probably one of her last forays outside before she goes into winter air lock living mode. (you can take the girl out of the tropics but etc. etc.)

Her vast and ever expanding flower gardens suffered some serious body blows over the past few days of frost and she decided to go all “scorched earth” on them in preparation for winter. This led to a robust series of debris piles strewn along the fringe of the gardens with my name appropriately attached to removal duties. 

I could have taken the easy route and lugged it all back to the wood line but why do that when you possess motorized equipment.  In addition to picking up leaves I’ve found the lawn mower is an excellent renderer of garden debris (and it’s kind of sneaky fun).  The attendant frustration, not to mention body aches, of pushing a lawn mower for several decades led to an almost childlike glee of operating my riding lawn mower (alright there’s no “almost” involved). 

The best part of the evening though was hanging out with my wife doing the chores.  For some reason she wasn’t as involved this summer with her gardens and more to the point we had very few free weekends to spend together out in the yard.  We found last night that we both missed it and enjoyed this brief episode of shared effort (the tractor helped a lot). 

It was kind of sad to see her verdant garden which overflowed with color for the entire summer reduced.  It’s part of the normal descent towards the stark reality of a New England winter but I underestimated how much I enjoyed pulling up the driveway each day greeted by all that color. 

Denuded Garden

We declared victory and got ready for date night because all of our efforts to actually speak with our daughter in the law – the fabulous AFBA were thwarted.  I’m sure our son had something to do with that –treating her to the day she deserved.  We did inflict our singing voices on her answering machine as a small bit of revenge.

Date night called for a movie (of all things) and we were lucky enough to see Fury.  This is a Brad Pitt vehicle set in the last days of World War 2 with Pitt as a tank commander fighting his way across the remnants of the 3^rd Reich.  He and the rest of his veteran crew take on a fresh-faced newcomer, Logan Lerman, to replace a dead comrade.  The movie boasts some truly amazing battle scenes where some obvious effort went into realism. 

The movie is more about the loss of humanity of the veteran crew (all excellent actors) caused by years of war.  You see Pitt trying to hang onto the last vestiges of his own humanity when he sees himself reflected back in Lerman’s reactions.  Despite their fragile existence living on the edge of barely retained sanity, fighting together establishes a bond that excuses their descent to a certain degree.  A really well done war movie, brutal to the extreme, but so is war.  

I spent my entire career in light infantry and never worked a lot with tanks (they referred to us as “crunchies”).  Tankers were a strange, fatalistic breed which  the movie does a great job of capturing.  Infantrymen have a healthy respect for tankers, probably dating back to the initial training where they put you in a fighting position and have a sixty ton, armored beast come straight at you and do a couple pivot steers directly on top of your position.  A change of underwear is usually required afterwards.

Amazing Best Day

The Amazing Best Family Birthday Girl

Today is special because it marks the annual anniversary of my daughter in law, the fabulous ABFA’s, 21^st birthday.  This remarkable young lady descended on our family a few short years ago and we have been consistently enriched since that day.  She brings beauty, grace, intelligence, and not a little bit of athletic prowess to the family.  I don’t think I’ve ever been in a room with her where I don’t spend a lot of time smiling.  Her most enduring and important trait is how happy she makes my son.  We all bask in the reflected joy.  Happiest of birthday to my amazing second daughter!

We’re definitely into transition time as we leave the best part of autumn.  Most daylight hours are now spent at work with a pre-dawn wake up and darkened descent downstairs to a frost laden lawn.  The trees are rapidly shedding their incredible plumage.  I like to take time each day to just look around and enjoy the death throes of another growing season as the stark reality of a leafless winter looms on the horizon.

Deck Before 

I spent some time on the back deck last night in the invigorating air moving the deck furniture inside for the winter.  Buddy provided squirrel security but even he wimped out after a while and watched from the heated inside.  I was removing the canopy which takes a real beating over the summer from the wind and sun and thought I was going to get one more summer out of it.  That is until one of the hooks caught as I was pulling it off and one entire side of the sun weakened fabric tore.  I took my frustration out on the dozen yellow jackets I found dozing in the folds of the sun screen.  I’ve learned to check these as a couple years ago I folded up a hibernating nest and carried it into the basement.  Neither of us was pleased when they woke up to infest the basement over the winter.  They died well though.

Winterized After - Plants Made a Plaintive Plea for Rescue

I finished up another Travis McGee novel, A Purple Place for Dying, yesterday as I continue my frenzied read through these fondly remembered treasures.  Trav is out west interviewing a potential client when she is brutally killed by a sniper.  This launches him into a confusing trail trying to identify the killer while also rescuing a young lady caught up in the violence.  It was vintage MacDonald, a fantastically scripted, action packed detective story away from McGee’s normal Florida haunts.  

As with all of MacDonald’s work, I am left in awe of his ability to wordsmith:

“Maybe, before we parted, I would tell her-or try to tell her-how she, in her own way, had mended me.  A different fellow had gone out there to Esmerelda, with the bad nerves and the flying twitches, and the guilts and remorses and the feeling of being savagely and forever alone.  No guilts this time.  Not with this one.  Remorse is the ultimate in self-abuse.” 

Sanity Turn

We woke up yesterday in Keene following our annual trip for the Pumpkinfest.  This year was different though.  It was the culmination of a trend with kids from the local college hosting friends from other colleges around the northeast for a party weekend.  Inevitably when you increase the population you’re going to get that population’s percentage of scumbags. 

True Heroes on Saturday Who Kept the Morons Herded

The event has become so popular that some of society’s leeches also latch onto the event.  A group that specializes in rave type parties worked the social media stream to encourage bad behavior and set the stage for the riots.  As I stated in yesterday’s post I’m not going to provide any publicity for these slope shouldered wannbe gangsters; other than to mention they should be held accountable for their actions.

This is a great opportunity to teach a lesson in how a civilized society is supposed to work. Any society is by necessity bound by a set of behavior standards.  If you violate those standards you are held accountable.  All too often we have forgotten that and become a nation of apologists for unacceptable behavior, even to the point of lionizing it.  The result is situations like the past weekend in Keene.

College administrators are not used to dealing with the real world cause and effect repercussion of bad behavior, usually heading the list of ivory tower apologists.  They should have anticipated the weekend events and been the iron voice of reason to the hosts of these parties (hosting a large party=automatic expulsion), instead they let it happen.  They should be held accountable.  Luckily the events have clearly spiraled out of their control and rest with the criminal justice system.  They’re now trying to blame everything on out of town visitors while failing to acknowledge all the imported idiots were hosted by someone (likely equally intellectually challenged) on campus.    

The residents of the houses where the parties took place are known via leases.  They cannot ignore their role in the affair, they should be held accountable.  While social media is largely responsible for gathering the huge crowds of students inflicted on Keene over the weekend they also provide an excellent record of the participants.  Maybe the overprotective mommy who helped create the anti-social loser you’ve become will believe your excuse as to how a tear gas canister burned your hand but law enforcement won’t. 

While all the politicians are leaping in front of the handiest TV camera they can find in this election year now is the time for the true leaders to rise to the occasion.  Hold the students, the rave organization, landlords, and administrators accountable in the criminal justice system.  A great chance to send a message to those who hung around the fringe of the riots just to “experience” it how society has to function. 

As we were pulling out of Keene yesterday large groups of students were out cleaning up.  This is admirable and represents a certain level of ownership that is refreshing.  I just hope they don’t think they sweep away responsibility for the past weekend as easily.

The ABFA and my son left in the morning but not before Buddy delivered a crushing cross body block to my son's battered knees; something that's become something of a signature move for the Wonder Pooch.  If nothing else it may have saved my son from a trek up a mountain the ABFA wanted to scale on their way home.  We stayed in Keene long enough to kick off the Patriot-less football afternoon.  Keene Friend and I monitored out fantasy football teams electronically while my wife re-acquainted herself with a neglected friend, TJ Maxx.  The epicenter of the riots was firmly between her location Saturday and that favorite shopping haunt.  So I guess there is a silver lining to every cloud.  She was not to be denied though, explaining how much money we “saved” by shopping tax free.

Keene Friend Monitoring His Loss to My Daughter ( I Know How That Feels!)

The battering my spirit took at seeing my hometown disgraced was fortified to a small degree with a rousing win in fantasy football against my sister and brother in law’s team.  Even Peyton Manning’s epic night for their team could not save them.  I’m sure there’s some serious spousal questioning of my brother in law’s sports credentials going on today in Rhode Island.