Dollars to Donuts...

how's this for a situation?...
I go into work at the wee hours to do my job and at about 7:30 in the morning, I opt to head to our cafeteria for some breakfast and to get some treats for my co-workers. Now being a diabetic, I know I can't eat what I buy for the folks I work with. I never let that bother me. It's no big deal for me to scoop up some big coffee rolls or donuts or lemon bars... whatever the treat may be. I usually grab for myself some crap like eggs, fruit or something of that ilk. Not as good as what they eat, but then again, I have this thing about wanting to live. I don't want to check out anytime soon so I best not go near the donuts, bagels, or any sweets. Bummer I know, but hey, I got over my passion for italian food and now have learned to live without spaghetti or a rigatoni or the other delectable pastas that end in "I"... sigh... But I do miss them all... it sucks to be a diabetic. Anyway, so I get myself some runny eggs and a terribly bruised Fiji apple and a bottled water. The eggs were mixed with some chopped sausage. It whizzed big time. Meanwhile my co-workers were treated to Cinnamon rolls gobs of frosting. Lemon Bars, Macademia Nut cookies and Banana Nutbread Muffins. And gormet coffee to boot. So I got all of this food on a tray piled high and drawing the most bizarre looks from people as I walk by. I could only imagine the thought that prevailed most was "geez you moose, no wonder you're a freakin' diabetic!"... So to the masses outside of my department, I'm probably a moose for eating cakes, rolls, donuts and cookies. And I sit down to eat my runny eggs and bruised up apple and shake my head and yell at the top of my voice.... CAFETERIA FOOD SUCKS....

In the Tall Grass

I am such a dork!
I finally BORROWED a lawn mower and cut my grass. I guess I should give a little backround. I've gone through and still have THREE lawn mowers (and none of them work). They are now all worthless. It's been raining for the last three weeks in near biblical proportions and I'm not saying I should build an ark or anything, but I have been looking at animals and thinking of them in pairs...lol... but I digress. Anyway, back to the lawn. I went through three, YES, THREE of those stinking things since I put them away late last fall/early winter. I broke them out hoping to get the lawn (uh, okay, actually more weeds than grass) cut. But none of them had oil in them and I didn't know that till it was too late. It's not like I have a gigantic yard or anything. Add to that all of the rain we've gotten so far this spring, and it has the makings of some ridiculously high grass. As I looked out over the lawn, I started to have strange visions of my childhood when I watched "Hee Haw" on television. I remember the people in the corn fields that would tell real corn ball jokes. A much more innocent time to be sure. But then they would dip back into the field and you couldn't see them. Looking out over my lawn, I felt something similar to those "Hee Haw" moments. I was actually feeling more like Clark W. Griswold in the "Vacation" movies but after going through THREE (yes, three) lawn mowers, I humbly borrowed one and mowed the lawn and felt such relief. Until I looked back out at the lawn and it looked like it could use a trim. THAT is how long the grass got. So I ran the lawn mower over it again, returned the lawn mower, and of course, it started to rain. And it rained for two days. At least it wasn't forty... I looked out at the grass this morning and of course, it needs to be cut.... AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!

Thanks Ernie...

As I move on everyday in this journey of mine, I find the highs and lows and try to manage as I go... No big surprise as most all of you try to do the same thing. And when you reach a certain age, you tend to spend just a wee bit of time looking back and reminiscing about happy times in the past. Usually, that involves childhood. At least that is what I do. A huge part of my childhood involved a transistor radio and hockey and baseball games. That was my ticket out from my house of blah that I painted for myself. We didn't have cable tv in my neighborhood until I was an adult. So all we had was about four or five channels on tv and whatever was on radio. Being a big sports fan, I loved listening to sports on the radio. It helped passed the time and it was such an important part of me back then. So it was with such sadness when I saw on tv that one of the most important voices of my childhood had passed away. Ernie Harwell was 92 years old but a VERY spry 92... The cancer in his bile duct took him from here but the memories of him calling Detroit Tigers baseball for 42 of his 55 year broadcast career will always be permanently etched in my head and my heart. The Georgia born but MADE in Detroit icon started his career in a weird way. Back in 1948, the Brooklyn Dodgers announcer fell ill, so their owner traded a minor league catcher to the minor league Atlanta Crackers for their announcer... Ernie Harwell! Ernie did short stints for Brooklyn, the old NY Giants, and then Baltimore, but finally found a home in the Motor City. Detroit and Ernie Harwell was a perfect match. My childhood was surviveable because I got to listen to Ernie Harwell and Paul Carey (a vastly underappreciated announcer in his own right) every day and it made sports such a hoot. I remember sitting on the porch with my ol' man and we'd have 760 WJR radio tuned in and Ernie and Paul would paint such a glorious picture of what was good about the world. It gave a hopeless kid from a rust-belt neighborhood a reason to look forward. It was a very important part of my childhood and now that such a vibrant part of it is gone, the world seems a little darker. But at least I'm glad that I was privelaged to have grown up (no matter how rough) and able to listen to a guy who helped shaped my view not only of sports, but a little bit of life too. Thanks Ern, you've done so much for so many. Now Heaven has their announcer... and he has a Southern accent!