Dear Friend Amy and I went to he dollar movies near my home last night and saw RED 2. If you missed the first one, it is a collection of retired assassins who get framed by corrupt government leaders and are hunted down themselves. This version is about a bunch of retired assassins who get framed by corrupt government military leaders and are hunted down themselves.
But the plot is secondary in a show like this. The characters are, well, real characters! These are older folks who are kicking butt and taking names. And probably my favorite role of Bruce Willis' since Moonlighting is this Frank Moses. I love Helen Mirren in anything she does--but this looks like she was having the time of her life. Plus John Malcovich playing a now-paranoid, trained killer? Genius!
If you are looking fro swomething to do this weekend, see if it is in the RedBox yet. However, the cautionary point is this: It is violent!! These characters are assassins, remember? And everyone who is hunting them is too. Don't complain that I didn't warn you.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Thursday, October 10, 2013
An Honest Shelf Life
Two years ago this month, Genius Golfer got us cell phones. Because two years ago this month, he quit his job to work for himself, from home. All three of the others in our family have upgrades their phones one way or another, except me. I have that two year old phone and it has been great.
Until this week, that is.
This week, my little phone cannot find a network to utilize. I can get texts and calls, but can't access the web, apps, or other tools that I have slowly been getting used to there. I've even tried to learn what to do to fix it myself, which all came up dry.
So when GG and The Boy (who has fall break this weekend, so no school today) get going for the day, they are on a quest to replace or upgrade my phone. But for the record, I think 2 years is a pathetically short shelf life for a little piece of electronic equipment that makes my life easier.
Until this week, that is.
This week, my little phone cannot find a network to utilize. I can get texts and calls, but can't access the web, apps, or other tools that I have slowly been getting used to there. I've even tried to learn what to do to fix it myself, which all came up dry.
So when GG and The Boy (who has fall break this weekend, so no school today) get going for the day, they are on a quest to replace or upgrade my phone. But for the record, I think 2 years is a pathetically short shelf life for a little piece of electronic equipment that makes my life easier.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Shifting Tides of Teenaged Emotion
Last night I was worried about The Boy. We had to run an errand as soon as I got off work and on the way home from that he opened up a little about how he was feeling about school, swimming, his first day of the ACT prep class I am making him take. He didn't look at me, as I was driving, but I could see his eyes getting moist from over in the driver's seat.
The ACT prep class was, I thought, a great idea. For $45 he'd get to take an hour after school T-F except fall break (coming this weekend) until the next ACT test date on October 26th. He is signed up to take it again then, so I thought the timing was perfect. He wasn't interested--nor could I afford--a $250 two week course the same teacher offers during the summer.
His report of the first day of class (yesterday) was that the class was FULL of kids and that he had homework (!) on top of his regular homework. His quadriceps were sore from running the 2.5 miles or whatever they ran in their dry land practice Monday afternoon. Plus he added that he was hungry (a constant, it seems these days) and tired (also a regular feature in his life).
So as we were getting ready to go to bed, I mentioned to Genius Golfer my concerns. "I think The Boy might be slightly depressed." I went on to give my reasons and asked what, if any thing, does he happen to say when he comes home for lunch?
"He just tells me he's fine, school is fine, work is fine, swim is fine," Genius Golfer answered me.
"What question did you ask to give him such scintillating responses?"
GG said, "I just asked how's it going?"
Figures.
The Boy has slept in past his alarm now every day for a week--at least. Good thing he has a few days this weekend without much of a schedule so he can catch up on the sleep thing. If he is rested and fed, life looks much better. Even a life that includes an ACT prep class, with homework!
The ACT prep class was, I thought, a great idea. For $45 he'd get to take an hour after school T-F except fall break (coming this weekend) until the next ACT test date on October 26th. He is signed up to take it again then, so I thought the timing was perfect. He wasn't interested--nor could I afford--a $250 two week course the same teacher offers during the summer.
His report of the first day of class (yesterday) was that the class was FULL of kids and that he had homework (!) on top of his regular homework. His quadriceps were sore from running the 2.5 miles or whatever they ran in their dry land practice Monday afternoon. Plus he added that he was hungry (a constant, it seems these days) and tired (also a regular feature in his life).
So as we were getting ready to go to bed, I mentioned to Genius Golfer my concerns. "I think The Boy might be slightly depressed." I went on to give my reasons and asked what, if any thing, does he happen to say when he comes home for lunch?
"He just tells me he's fine, school is fine, work is fine, swim is fine," Genius Golfer answered me.
"What question did you ask to give him such scintillating responses?"
GG said, "I just asked how's it going?"
Figures.
The Boy has slept in past his alarm now every day for a week--at least. Good thing he has a few days this weekend without much of a schedule so he can catch up on the sleep thing. If he is rested and fed, life looks much better. Even a life that includes an ACT prep class, with homework!
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
♪ ♫ Burning Down the House ♫ ♪
Genius Golfer was making fried chicken last night for dinner. I came home earlier than I had told him I'd be here, so I think I threw off his groove. His chicken cooking project was just starting, so I went about things as normal while trying to stay out his way in the kitchen.
The frying pan was on the stove top with the lid on it while he was seasoning the flour and prepping the drumsticks. As I sat on the opposite side of the kitchen bar I noticed the smoke coming from the lidded pan and got very worried. I commented to GG that something wasn't right.
He quickly grabbed an oven mitt and gently pulled the lid off the pan which caused a sudden pop and flash! The sound and light startled him and he dropped the lid--perfectly--back on to the pan. Then he gently removed the pan, keeping the lid on, to the bar and the trivet waiting there.
We opened all the windows and tried to air out the smoke before the smoke alarms went off. But my eyes burned so much! I couldn't get them to stop watering.
Apparently, when he had lifted the lid to check about the smoke, the oxygen fed the nearly-a-fire inside the pan, it flashed and, luckily, he dropped the lid perfectly on the pan or we'd have had a grease fire on our hands--and all over the kitchen, easily.
Tonight we included a special thank you in our prayers that our house didn't burn down, or GG didn't get singed. Maybe someday this will be a funny story.
What's the family's mantra? God protects the stupid.
The frying pan was on the stove top with the lid on it while he was seasoning the flour and prepping the drumsticks. As I sat on the opposite side of the kitchen bar I noticed the smoke coming from the lidded pan and got very worried. I commented to GG that something wasn't right.
He quickly grabbed an oven mitt and gently pulled the lid off the pan which caused a sudden pop and flash! The sound and light startled him and he dropped the lid--perfectly--back on to the pan. Then he gently removed the pan, keeping the lid on, to the bar and the trivet waiting there.
We opened all the windows and tried to air out the smoke before the smoke alarms went off. But my eyes burned so much! I couldn't get them to stop watering.
Apparently, when he had lifted the lid to check about the smoke, the oxygen fed the nearly-a-fire inside the pan, it flashed and, luckily, he dropped the lid perfectly on the pan or we'd have had a grease fire on our hands--and all over the kitchen, easily.
Tonight we included a special thank you in our prayers that our house didn't burn down, or GG didn't get singed. Maybe someday this will be a funny story.
What's the family's mantra? God protects the stupid.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Sounds Too Good To Be True? You Know The Rest...
I haven't much to say lately with regards to political stuff, but I read this one over the weekend and it just made sense. I wish people would do their own thinking--whether it is about our coming municipal primary election or the situation in Washington. See if this makes sense to you.
Terry
Adams wrote:
I
was in my neighborhood restaurant this morning and was seated behind a group of
jubilant individuals celebrating the coming implementation of the health care
bill. I could not finish my breakfast. This is what ensued: They were a diverse
group of several races and both sexes. I heard a young man exclaim, “Isn’t
Obama like Jesus Christ? I mean, after all, he is healing the sick.”
A young woman enthusiastically proclaimed, “Yeah, and he does it for free. I cannot believe anyone would think that a free market wouldn't work for health care.”
Another said, "The stupid Republicans want us all to starve to death so they can inherit all of the power. Obama should be made a Saint for what he did for those of us less fortunate.”
At this, I had more than enough. I arose from my seat, mustering all the restraint I could find, and approached their table. “Please excuse me; may I impose upon you for one moment?”
They smiled and welcomed me to the conversation. I stood at the end of their table, smiled as best I could and began an experiment.
“I would like to give one of you my house. It will cost you no money and I will pay all of the expenses and taxes for as long as you live there. Anyone interested?”
They looked at each other in astonishment. “Why would you do something like that?” asked a young man, “There isn’t anything for free in this world.”
They began to laugh at me, as they did not realize this man had just made my point.
“I am serious, I will give you my house for free, no money whatsoever. Anyone interested?”
In unison, a resounding “Yeah” fills the room.
“Since there are too many of you, I will have to make a choice as to who receives this money-free bargain.”
I noticed an elderly couple was paying attention to the spectacle unfolding before their eyes, the old man shaking his head in apparent disgust.
“I tell you what; I will give it to the one of you most willing to obey my rules.”
Again, they looked at one another, an expression of bewilderment on their faces.
The perky young woman asked, “What are the rules?”
I smiled and said, “I don’t know. I have not yet defined them. However, it is a free home that I offer you.”
They giggled amongst themselves, the youngest of which said, “What an old coot. He must be crazy to give away his home. Go take your meds, old man.”
I smiled and leaned into the table a bit further. “I am serious, this is a legitimate offer.”
They gaped at me for a moment.
“I’ll take it you old fool. Where are the keys?” boasted the youngest among them.
“Then I presume you accept ALL of my terms then?” I asked.
The elderly couple seemed amused and entertained as they watched from the privacy of their table. “Oh yeah! Where do I sign up?”
I took a napkin and wrote, “I give this man my home, without the burden of financial obligation, so long as he accepts and abides by the terms that I shall set forth upon consummation of this transaction.”
I signed it and handed it to the young man who eagerly scratched out his signature.
“Where are the keys to my new house?” he asked in a mocking tone of voice.
All eyes were upon us as I stepped back from the table, pulling the keys from pocket and dangling them before the excited new homeowner.“Now that we have entered into this binding contract, witnessed by all of your friends, I have decided upon the conditions you are obligated to adhere to from this point forward. You may only live in the house for one hour a day. You will not use anything inside of the home. You will obey me without question or resistance. I expect complete loyalty and admiration for this gift I bestow upon you. You will accept my commands and wishes with enthusiasm, no matter the nature. Your morals and principles shall be as mine. You will vote as I do, think as I do and do it with blind faith. These are my terms. Here are your keys.”
I reached the keys forward and the young man
looked at me dumbfounded. “Are you out of your mind? Who would ever agree to
those ridiculous terms?” the young man appeared irritated. A young woman enthusiastically proclaimed, “Yeah, and he does it for free. I cannot believe anyone would think that a free market wouldn't work for health care.”
Another said, "The stupid Republicans want us all to starve to death so they can inherit all of the power. Obama should be made a Saint for what he did for those of us less fortunate.”
At this, I had more than enough. I arose from my seat, mustering all the restraint I could find, and approached their table. “Please excuse me; may I impose upon you for one moment?”
They smiled and welcomed me to the conversation. I stood at the end of their table, smiled as best I could and began an experiment.
“I would like to give one of you my house. It will cost you no money and I will pay all of the expenses and taxes for as long as you live there. Anyone interested?”
They looked at each other in astonishment. “Why would you do something like that?” asked a young man, “There isn’t anything for free in this world.”
They began to laugh at me, as they did not realize this man had just made my point.
“I am serious, I will give you my house for free, no money whatsoever. Anyone interested?”
In unison, a resounding “Yeah” fills the room.
“Since there are too many of you, I will have to make a choice as to who receives this money-free bargain.”
I noticed an elderly couple was paying attention to the spectacle unfolding before their eyes, the old man shaking his head in apparent disgust.
“I tell you what; I will give it to the one of you most willing to obey my rules.”
Again, they looked at one another, an expression of bewilderment on their faces.
The perky young woman asked, “What are the rules?”
I smiled and said, “I don’t know. I have not yet defined them. However, it is a free home that I offer you.”
They giggled amongst themselves, the youngest of which said, “What an old coot. He must be crazy to give away his home. Go take your meds, old man.”
I smiled and leaned into the table a bit further. “I am serious, this is a legitimate offer.”
They gaped at me for a moment.
“I’ll take it you old fool. Where are the keys?” boasted the youngest among them.
“Then I presume you accept ALL of my terms then?” I asked.
The elderly couple seemed amused and entertained as they watched from the privacy of their table. “Oh yeah! Where do I sign up?”
I took a napkin and wrote, “I give this man my home, without the burden of financial obligation, so long as he accepts and abides by the terms that I shall set forth upon consummation of this transaction.”
I signed it and handed it to the young man who eagerly scratched out his signature.
“Where are the keys to my new house?” he asked in a mocking tone of voice.
All eyes were upon us as I stepped back from the table, pulling the keys from pocket and dangling them before the excited new homeowner.“Now that we have entered into this binding contract, witnessed by all of your friends, I have decided upon the conditions you are obligated to adhere to from this point forward. You may only live in the house for one hour a day. You will not use anything inside of the home. You will obey me without question or resistance. I expect complete loyalty and admiration for this gift I bestow upon you. You will accept my commands and wishes with enthusiasm, no matter the nature. Your morals and principles shall be as mine. You will vote as I do, think as I do and do it with blind faith. These are my terms. Here are your keys.”
“You did when you signed this contract before reading it, understanding it and with the full knowledge that I would provide my conditions only after you committed to the agreement.”
The elderly man chuckled as his wife tried to restrain him. I was looking at a now silenced and bewildered group of people.
“You can shove that stupid deal up your a** old man. I want no part of it!” exclaimed the now infuriated young man.
'You have committed to the contract, as witnessed by all of your friends. You cannot get out of the deal unless I agree to it. I do not intend to let you free now that I have you ensnared. I am the power you agreed to. I am the one you blindly and without thought chose to enslave yourself to. In short, I am your Master.”
At this, the table of celebrating individuals became a unified group against the unfairness of the deal.
After a few moments of unrepeatable comments and slurs, I revealed my true intent.
“What I did to you is what this administration and congress did to you with the health care legislation. I easily suckered you in and then revealed the real cost of the bargain. Your folly was in the belief that you can have something you did not earn, and for that which you did not earn, you willingly allowed someone else to think for you. Your failure to research, study and inform yourself permitted reason to escape you. You have entered into a trap from which you cannot flee. Your only chance of freedom is if your new Master gives it to you. A freedom that is given can also be taken away. Therefore, it is not freedom at all.”
With that, I tore up the napkin and placed it before the astonished young man. “This is the nature of your new health care legislation.” I turned away to leave these few in thought and contemplation -- and was surprised by applause.
The elderly gentleman, who was clearly entertained, shook my hand enthusiastically and said, “Thank you, Sir. These kids don’t understand Liberty .”
He refused to allow me to pay my bill as he said, “You earned this one. It is an honor to pick up the tab.”
I shook his hand in thanks, leaving the restaurant somewhat humbled and sensing a glimmer of hope for my beloved country.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
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