Classic Christmas

I've always liked the old VW Beetles. Just about everybody likes them. They are kind of cartoon-like. Even the two generations of kids behind me know what they are and like them. The "Herbie" movie keeps getting updated as in Lindsey Lohan a few years back. I've been wanting one for a long time. It seems to me to be the perfect car for a retired guy like me to have to just play around with and maybe take to the drive in diner like sonic or tastee freeze. Not as a daily driver. Just an extra car. Fun to drive. Easy to maintain. Inexpensive, yet eye-catching. I already have a hobby car. A little British Triumph, but it is a work in progress. In the last few years I have really been considering a "bug".

A couple months ago I saw a VW for sale at the curb in the little town near me. I passed it every day. Of course I took note. But it wasn't really the kind I wanted. There is a classic "look" that fades away after about 1967. The look of the old "faired in" headlights. They looked like Porsche headlights. "Herbie the lovebug" of course has this look. I always figured I didn't want the big seats, the newer bumpers, newer headlights. I wanted a Herbie. So I ignored this bug for sale because it lacked the classic look. The car went away and reappeared after a few weeks on the other side of the road with the same for sale sign and a lowered price. So I stopped and looked at it and took down the guy's number. We used to have to find pencil and paper to write the guys number. Of course now I just typed it into my cell phone. The car looked OK to me. The style wasn't exactly right, but it was a stock 1970 VW and just might suit me if it runs. My wife was out of town so there was no voice of reason to prevent an impulse buy. I pulled up VW's on the computer and they were going for a lot more than they were the last time I had checked. It turned out the guy had this car in his family for 30 years. We drove it around the block and I bought it. I told my wife it could be my Christmas and birthday present from her for the next couple years.

With historic tags and no Maryland inspection needed, I started driving this goofy poorly repainted metallic blue bug every day. I would just go to Federalsburg. Only five miles away. And get a hamburger. I had to open the door to order at the McDonalds drive in because the driver's window wouldn't roll down. Each day I drove it the car worked better. It was literally coming back alive from sitting. I was spending happy hours in my shed with a portable heater and Christmas carols on the radio just cleaning the 42 year old car. Just puttering by myself. It was to me exactly what a retired guy should do. I ordered about $100 worth of little parts it needed. When they came UPS in a cardboard box it was like a Christmas present, and I was a child with toys. This little car has grown on me and now I like it's style fine. It seems to have a personality.

I'm not the kind of guy who would "name" his car. But this car has done things like fix itself. And it collects baseball caps in the back seat. Not tools or jackets. Just baseball caps. And a wheel came flying off and it was my fault and it could have really damaged the car, but somehow it didn't. And the low beams didn't work. So I put in brand new sealed bulbs. They still would not work. Then they just started working. I replaced all ten fuses in it's little fuse box. The flashers never worked but I would cycle the switch every day just for the heck of it. One day the flashers started working perfectly and it made me laugh.

My buddy Dempsey found a hundred things wrong with the engine. A seriously long laundry list. So I asked him if it was still OK to drive the car. He just said "yea".

I don't have a name for the car yet. I was thinking "Bluey". The movie car "Herbie" had a nickname "ocho" which means eight in Spanish. Because Herbie's racing number "53" added up to eight. Some of my VW parts were made in Mexico where the Beetles got manufactured after Germany stopped making them in the seventies. The box would say on it Heche en Mexico. So I was thinking of the name "Hecho". Pronounced H.O. like the cute little model trains.

So if you had any doubts as to whether LloydLou has time on his hands, well....

See you this Spring at the Dairy Queen.

LLITTY :::::+:::::

Christmas Now Past

Happy Holidays every one. In this season I often complain about the gift exchange custom. It is mostly because I am selfish and lazy and lousy at giving gifts. Even when the process goes well I still feel a bit or a lot embarassed by the whole thing. The thing I hate worst about it is seeing year after year and time after time, middle class people running around in a frenzied deadline to get eachother gifts they don't need, and don't want. They waste time on this when they could be enjoying the moments of the holiday. The day off work. Time spent with family. Watching the snowflakes and relaxing from their stressed lives. The gift apparently is very important because it is for xmas day. The day after, not so much.

My wife and I decided to buy our own gifts for ourselves. Boy did I make a haul. It turns out I'm really good at buying things for myself. I don't have to worry about whether the gift is suitable. It is automatically perfect. Wife and I agreed that we would not give eachother gifts on xmas day especially. But I wound up getting about three little gifts from my wife wrapped beautifully on xmas morning. I had nothing wrapped for her as per our agreement. She just couldn't help herself. That's fine. I liked the little gifts very much. And the night before on xmas eve we had dined in a very fancy dining room in an elegant b and b in Easton. The decor was exquisite. And the food delecate and pleasing. In a clumsy toast I tried to tell my wife that she gives me a Christmas gift every single day by being who she is, and what she is to me. It was trite, but I really meant it.

I'm a Christmas Libertarian. I don't want Xmas rules and customs forced upon me. It's the exchange of gifts I don't like. The giving is fine. Let's do more of it all year long. I just don't like the quid pro quo aspect of it. And I don't like the deadline. Do you ever find yourself looking forward to Xmas and dreading it at the same time? Remember the three wise men, (or were they kings) gave gifts to the baby Jesus. Nobody gave them gifts back. Mary didn't give them a tie they didn't really want or something.

I tried hard this year not to stress over Christmas. Keep the good part of it and throw out the rat race bathwater. (That's my xmas mixed metephor). On xmas day I put 215 miles on wife's car. I went to four xmas's and missed the last one. I got home at 2AM. It all went well until I was only ten miles from home. Then I got pulled over by a trooper. I was on a road called "Black Dog Alley". He was looking for DUI's and I wasn't one. He let me off for speeding with a warning. And it wasn't even Xmas anymore as it was after midnight. I hadn't gone a half mile when I came quickly upon a deer. A doe who stood frozen in my lane. It was a standoff. My heart was still pounding from the cop. The doe finally walked away and I shook my head and drove on home in the wee hour. Now I was wide awake. A christmas carol, that my brother had beautifully sang with his guitar at the family gathering ealier, was repeating over and over in my mind: "The rising of the sun, and the running of the deer"

LLITTY :::::+:::::

Drill Baby Drill

Here at LloydLou I tend to talk politics and religion. But of course I'm not qualified to do that. Most people are not. We "most people" are really just airing our wishes and opinions. Rarely do we change any listeners opinion. I follow the Republican primary contest much as I would a new sitcom or a sports playoff. It's interesting because it is now and somebody's gonna get thrashed. The mighty will fall and the boring normal will become funny.

I think we all make a huge mistake in the way we think about politics. We tend to expect there to be a "right way" to deal with other countries, our economy, our legal system, our moral responsibilities. We choose between our two parties every two years. Expecting to finally have one of the parties "get it right". But they will never get it right. Of course. We all know this. But knowing and wishing are two different things. We continue to hope. And most of all, we hope that we as individuals will be "right".

The government/political system that would approach utopia for one individual/tribe/country would never, ever, ever, approach utopia for another.

Also: The government/political system that would approach utopia in one era of time would never approach utopia in another era of time.

So here is my advice to politicians and voters alike:

1. The most important thing to learn from history is that man is inhumane and we can and should strive to do better.

2. Make decisions that will help now and be a stepping stone to more help in the future.

3. There are no permanent solutions.

4. Remember everything is changing every day.

5. An economy can not be considered successful if there are people who are starving and/or without health care.

6. Keep marriage, sex, drugs, and religion out of national politics.

7. Let's try to fix our political system so that it is never about someone getting re-elected.

Okay... that's a general rant. enough.

Now I have a way to fix a couple problems quick. World strife is mostly about oil and religion. We actually could get by without oil and religion. Then only land and other natural resources would we go to war over.

I have a solution to the oil problem. We build that pipeline in ANWR. We build the Canadian pipeline being talked about. We drill baby drill (oh how fun, I get to agree with Sarah Palin!) we go offshore, on shore and everywhere. Now hold on environmentalists, let me finish. We make so damn much oil right here in North America that it is astounding. Think of the jobs it will create. At the same time we expand our conservation of oil, by using more efficient systems that don't need as much or any oil. We almost immediately stop importing oil from the Middle east. We get out of Middle East politics. We are already getting out of Middle East wars. Our expanded oil system can be slowly scaled back as we convert to other energy. Renewable energy. So I am calling for a "surge" in oil production for peace, And then lets see what happens with the new tech for energy. We lost 4500 young brave wonderful citizens in a war over oil and religion. We can eliminate the cause for that kind of war. Eventually the old oil pipelines can rot where they sit. Empty they do no harm to the environment. They become a monument to a choice we made. If this sounds like an only temporary solution, that is correct. All solutions are only temporary. If some rich powerful person stands to lose money because he profited from Middle East oil, that's too bad. We need to sever that oil tie now. It will bring peace and prosperity.

To the West Shore Again?

After "The Chunk" I started to hide out again. After all, I'd been to a place with lots of people. So I should be good for a while. But I wound up going to Fredrock Saturday to a hangar party where I could sing a bit at an "open mike". That always gets me out of my cave. Can it be about me?
And it looks like tomorrow I'm going to a pickin party out towards Fredrock again. I am going to be on the Western Shore anyway, as I am driving wife to the airport for a flight. I like to drive her and drop her off so she doesn't have to fool with parking or vans or anything. And of course I will pick her up and chauffeur her when she comes home, and take her to dinner. This is what we call in the airline industry "Princess Parking".

So it seems I'm out of my shell. Today I actually worked around the place. Perhaps Punkin Chunkin and folksinging energize me. I got my International tractor started. It required oil, gear oil, grease, hydraulic fluid, anti-freeze, charging, airing up, a change of implements, a battery hold down, fueling, stabilizer for the fuel. I actually bush hogged an overgrown pasture and got it done. And got the tractor put away and on charge.

After that, I had enough energy to visit with wife. She went to bed and here I am writing to you. I must have had too much caffeine today. I actually did more than one thing. So after I chauffeur wife and attend the pickin party, I expect I'll crawl back under that insulating rock crutch I have and not come out until Thanksgiving.

Bridgeville, Delaware. It's on the Map

Last weekend I went to Punkin Chunkin. It's an Eastern Shore thing. The locals call it "The Chunk". I had never been to it in it's 26 years of operation. So it was all new to me. It's very big now. Discovery Channel covers it. It's a bunch of people gathering to see another bunch of people toss pumpkins. There are alcohol, tobacco and firearms too. I didn't know there was an "open carry" law in Delaware. This refers to guns, not alcohol containers. It is an outdoor gathering, so you can drink, carry a gun, and smoke. I did none of those things. But I do not disapprove of those things. I paid ten bucks to get in. Here's what I saw and did. I got up close to the fence. The fence is a snow fence type deal which keeps you back from danger, but you can see over it. (The fence was stolen, by the way, this year. A new fence arrived just in time for the event.) There's a pun in there somewhere about "fencing" a fence, but I can't set it up. Anyway I got up close to the fence and spent a nice time watching the catapults. Some were man powered. There were flywheels and springs, and windlasses, trebuchets, and all kinds of clever devices. They would chuck a pumpkin about five hundred to two thousand feet. Crazy crews in crazy costumes. Sometimes the pumpkins fragmented during the launch. People cheered for this more than for distance. Hence "Punkin Chunkin"

Then I wandered away from the range and into the midway. There were games and rides for the kids, and for adults who wanted to act like kids. A mechanical bull. A rock climb. Pumpkin toss. Pumpkin eating. Carnival rides. A food court full of tent booths. I had chocolate covered bacon for the first time. It was pretty good. Later I had candy coated almonds which were great. There were displays. There were two live bands. I watched and enjoyed them both. But I soon learned that it was all about the "cannons" which they save till the end of the day. I had picked up some of the culture and when I spoke to the venders for some reason I pretended I had been there for previous years. I would say things like "so when are they going to fire the cannons?" Or "will they start with 'old glory' down on the end?" I talked to a vender selling wood stoves. I looked at the wares of a vender selling solar panels. I looked at t shirts, ball caps, etc. but I didn't want a souvenir really. I was afraid the carnival food I had eaten might be enough of a memory to take home with me. I found a bale of straw to sit on for a while. I noticed the film crews and infield folks all moving in one direction and it was toward the line of gigantic air cannons that were to be the stars of the show. They did not disappoint. their barrels looked to be 40 feet and more. Their air tanks great giant cylinders. When they fired you could barely see the pumpkin it moved so fast. Often I missed it. But when I saw it, it would fade from my sight while it was still climbing. Several cannons shot their pumpkins over four thousand feet. It was a good time. After twenty one years on the Eastern Shore I may be starting to blend in. Maybe I shoulda got a ball cap.

eleven eleven eleven

My dear friends I have to write something today. I have to, in some way, print, publish, or record something. Because of the date. 11-11-11. The picket fence, corduroy, railroad tracks. Lucky or unlucky in dice. 11. I wrote some checks today for some bills that weren't quite due because it was fun to write the date.

I didn't forget Veterans Day. I'd like to thank all of our veterans who have served through history for their sacrifices. I and my countrymen owe our freedom to you. I salute you.
I said the other day I just don't like the flag waving Republicans who think the USA should rule the world and make the rules and use up the most of the resources and not be questioned. But they have their say too, under freedom. I have an urge to quote the last line of the last verse of our anthem "In triumph shall wave. O're the land of the free, and the home of the brave."

LLITTY :::::+:::::

I Tuned in and Dropped Out

Early November. Highs in the low sixties. This is the time of year that our grass is beautifully green. And yet, I do not need to mow it. It's too cold for it to grow. At the winter solstice the grass will be brown, or tan like straw. The same way it gets during the hottest part of the summer, when it is too scorched to thrive. So October/November is really when my airstrip looks best. And needs no mowing. I was walking on the strip yesterday. It felt so soft to my moccasins. Fearing it was soft because of dampness I did a little test I often do. I knelt down on one knee and put my weight there. Then I stood up and the corduroy of my trousers was perfectly dry. The airstrip is indeed perfect. The trees aren't even halfway turned. And New England has already had a snow storm!

I've been doing a lot of nothing lately. This is what I haven't been doing: mowing, writing in my Journal, taking my meds, following my diet, having campfires, going anywhere, clearing brush, picking up firewood, playing guitar, reading magazines that I subscribe to, walking Yukon the dog, playing with the airplane, working in the shop, playing with the Triumph, going on outings with wife and her father

This is what I have been doing: sleeping at all times of day- no more than three hours at a time, following news on the computer, watching retro TV and old movies, writing a very few little posts like this one, daydreaming, reading, watching the weather without going out in it. Recharging I hope. Perhaps just being lazy.

In the process of keeping track of the economy and current events yesterday I noticed something I thought was odd. The headlines rattled off. Such as "Obama in France", candidate "Cain" in trouble over scandal, Will EU bail out the going broke Greece, Sexy Lohan gets 30 days, Connecticut still with power outages. And then this little tiny almost footnote remark about Obama mentioning sanctions on Iran during his conversations with the French President.

Is anyone else troubled, surprised and uncomfortable about this? Here we have the regular stuff. A snowstorm, a minor earthquake, a belly landing of an airliner in Warsaw,......and oh yes, also there is a country that is developing nuclear weapons because they want to destroy the world starting with the United States. This country believes in a doctrine that includes killing infidels, those who are not followers of Islam. This is in their holy writings and is their holy quest. And by the way, they don't care if they die in the process of killing everyone else. In fact they believe it's even better that way. They will be impossible to stop. And back to our CNN studios........" a third woman has now come forward in the Cain scandal......

Wait, can you go back to that story about the inevitable thermonuclear exchange? What are we trying to do about it? Are we trying to be politically correct to Iran before they wipe New York off the map? I didn't catch what will happen next because you moved on to the story about the Bride who was texting while walking down the isle.

Just another news day. I guess I really don't have to worry about global warming or QE3 .

I think Sam Harris is right. Deal with religion now. It's the elephant in the room that will make all our other problems in the headlines go away. But in a very bad way.

Let's see... flip on the cable...what are my chances of finding that damn TV channel clicker?
Remote.

Fox news? I'm strangely sexually aroused by that Ann Coulter. Hmm. MSNBC? I'm strangely aroused by that lesbian lady Rachel Maddow. CNN? Bingo! We 'ave a wiiiner! Now they have Erin Burnett!! OMG
LLITTY :::::+:::::

it's just my opinion, i could be right

Never argue politics or religion because you can't change any one's mind. And you just piss them off! I know I shouldn't, but I sometimes do anyway. I'm always sorry that I do. Kind of like eating sugar as a type two diabetic. I eat it anyway. Then feel sorry afterward.

Last week I was with two good friends chatting. They were making fun of Obama and his "failed" policies, and laughing about how he will be trounced in 2012. I smiled and nodded and said nothing. I'd like to be proud about having kept my mouth shut, but I really just didn't feel like disagreeing with two people that I like. Two people that I want to like me.

A while back another friend of mine was telling me about Herman Cain and how he was now this friend's best choice. And how he liked 9-9-9. I was wincing on my side of the phone conversation but I said nothing and tried to change the subject. I want this friend also to like me. You see, I don't have very many close friends and I like it that way.

I guess my close friends know that I am a liberal and an atheist (or agnostic or non believer). But just about everybody that I talk to assumes that I believe in God. And since I'm a white collar, white male, over 50 they just assume I'm a republican. If they suspect I'm an atheist liberal, they still talk to me as if I am a right wing republican like they are. I think this must be to "help me" and pull me over to the "high moral ground" that they are on. They are my friends after all. They're just looking out after me.

So every once in a while I just like to air out a few things lest my friends mistake my smiling silence with tacit approval for their beliefs. We don't have to agree on everything to be friends.
so here's a few position statements using as few words as possible:

I am a liberal Democrat. Not because I agree all the time with that platform. But only because it is a default position due to my hating what the Republicans think.

My vote for Obama in 2012 will be against the Republicans, not for Obama.

I disagree with 10 commandments in court and faith based initiatives

I disagree with "pro life" including the name "pro life"

I disagree with the "war on drugs" and favor decriminalization of all drugs, as far as possession.
This is a social, not criminal, problem.

I agree and accept the reality of global warming, but I think we have more pressing environmental and social problems to be dealt with first

I disagree with prayer in school and consider "creation" equivalent to fairy tales.

I consider it impossible not to believe in evolution. This blog post I am typing is "evolving" as I write it. We are bigger sized humans than we were in WWII. All of us alive today are descendants of people who were more successful at reproducing, for one reason or another, than their contemporaries. "Everything is the way it is because it got that way"

I don't think you should tax the poor. Set a limit and give the poor that break. I'd rather give someone a free ride they don't deserve than put someone deeper into poverty that doesn't deserve it.

Government is imperfect. Just like the private sector.

I believe we should tax the rich. This is what our graduated income tax is supposed to do. If you don't redistribute the wealth you have a class society. That's better than socialism, but just barely and you spend a lot of money policing the have- nots. Of which there will be a lot. Just because our tax system is antiquated and has flaws like loopholes, and is complicated and cumbersome doesn't mean the graduated income tax is a bad idea. Lets come up with a simple and fair modern tax code. No loopholes.

If you want to make the government smaller, and I think we all do, that's fine. But don't lay off government workers and then complain about unemployment when you just created unemployment during a recession.

Democrats and Republicans criticize each other for trying the same program again after it has already failed. Democrats and Republicans criticize each other for programs that failed when it is uncertain how , when, and if, the programs actually failed. They need to stop doing that. Just do your best. Don't worry about who started the program or who should be blamed for it. We all just want to fix the economy.

Lets put term limits on every seat in congress.

Let's limit the President to one term

Let's encourage a third party. Perhaps there is a way to prevent it from being a spoiler. Such as, if it can't or doesn't win, then it is out and another election is held.

Don't come down on the "Occupy Wall Street" or "Tea Party" movement. You don't have to agree with them. Just read the First Amendment. And don't underestimate them.

I don't know about my conservative friends, but I really, really, don't care if gays get married. No one is asking anyone to be gay. Or even like gays. Or go to a gay wedding. Do you really want to trade votes on Bills in congress over this? What does this have to do with the government? Are we going to wind up spending more money on this?

I would gripe right now about stem cell research, but it's going to become a moot point. The bio tech world will leap frog this if they haven't already. Sooner or later the religious right will have to decide what they want to try to do about cloning and the manufacturing of body parts, and spare parts and androids. They will lose every battle because you can't stop knowledge. Knowledge is power and the church has less every day.

Second Amendment. I don't have good happy feelings here. Guns scare me. They are powerful. The bearer of a firearm has the responsibility of that power. Bad people who are violent and not responsible scare me. If they are bad people with a firearm, the average citizen is dead or a slave soon to be dead. It scares me very much to have everyone have a gun. I don't like it. BUT.... as long as there are guns, everyone should have one and be trained to use it. Not because that is my hard thought out opinion, but for two reasons: 1. each citizen needs to protect himself and his family from danger and 2. the constitution doesn't just permit each individual to own and bear a gun, no the document has a special separate amendment to insure the right to bear arms for protection against enemies and for use in coordination with militia should it come to that. I hate it when the Republicans wave the flag and talk about "traditional" values. But the US Constitution gives us rights. Without the rights we are slaves. I'm a liberal and I wish we could all live in peace, but for now while we can't seem to, we need the protection the founding fathers wisely put in the document.

OK. I'm almost done with this rant. One more thing while I'm on the subject. If we are spending too much then let's cut defense right along with everything else. But let me be clear. Once we have a person in uniform who is sworn in to defend our country. Who puts his life on the line and his family on hold, be he front lines or rear guard, he is ours. He is supported by every taxpayer, every citizen, every businessman, every single American. We thank that person every day. We do not cut his pay or benefits to try to make up for some banking snafu we had while we were safe in our beds and that individual was in Afghanistan. We not only give him or her all that we agreed on when they were sworn in, but we give them more. When they come home we give them their benefits and more. People running for office take note... we all feel this way. Cut defense all you want and pull the troops home, fine. But nobody gets a pay cut. If we want a smaller peacetime army fine. Just pay these people what they sign up for. We can never compensate them enough for their duty and bravery.

A Dog's Life

After we got back from our trip to California I stayed "in gear". Dempsey was here. He worked on projects and I caught up on corespondence. I kept moving. Wife and I went to town and out to dinner a few times. Dempsey went home. I was caught up a bit and I slowed down. Wife was a bit tired and stayed around over the weekend. I got into a little routine where I kind of hid out in my room and watched old movies and read. Wife had gotten me a book from Amazon. It was called "Breaking the Spell". It took me two days to get through the book and I kept "saving" a bit for later like you might do with a box of cookies. That's pretty good for non fiction. The guy who wrote it is a popular philosopher and he dumbed his information down for laymen like me.





I'm still in "hide in my room" mode. The fact that I can write to you means I am coming out to join the world. Wife has gone to town. Her dogs are hanging out with me it seems. But they are really just waiting for her. If I talk to them and pet them it makes me feel better. It reminds me of my dog "Jake" who is gone and never forgotten. Thinking about Jake is both sad and happy. It is not "mixed emotions". It is the same emotion.





Speaking of loyal dogs. My friend Steve B. went to Alaska recently. He often goes there to be with his buddies, and work on his cabin, and help his buddies build their northern empires. I guess I could write all day about his amazing buddies, and he. But of all his adventures and deeds I am most impressed by this last Alaska trip. This is a guy who has sailed the Carribean. Sailed the Chesapeake in his own beautiful wooden sailboat. Can jump bareback and barefoot on his horse and ride through the woods at night. Has hosted fabulous festivals at his place in Maryland and has flown as a crewmember in the "show" of traveling town to town in restored WWII bombers which are so old and precious that people come from miles around just to look at them. And to hear them. You have to hear them. He can work on anything and if he can't do it, he'll tell you that. And he knows someone who can. He's a minimalist in a world of runaway technology. But what most impresses me is his recent Alaska trip. Even though he could barely afford his own fare, he took his best friend "Reno", the German Shepherd, with him. On an airliner, for 3,000 miles each way. Steve has taken many friends to Alaska with him, including me. But none of his friends wanted to go with him as much as Reno.





I have a great life. A great wife and son. A great place on Delmarva. My health, such as it is. A few toys. Great dreams of future fun. I envy no man. But for Steve to take this beautiful, smart, wild, faithful companion with him to this place that he so loves to visit, and share it all with a creature who not only loves him, but can love the site more than we can imagine, that action, the doing of it, I must say I have to envy. Thanks Steve. Thanks on behalf of Reno, and all of us dog lovers for the inspiration. You lived a dream.
LLITTY :::::+:::::

Freeways and Studios

Nine days away from home. Seven full days in Los Angeles. A trusted friend housesitter to mind the fort. An expensive doggie resort to stash the dogs. A long term parking lot off the airport. A wake up at 4AM on departure day.

Day one: Travel. Get the roller skate rental car. Try to adjust to driving in L.A. Wife is pretty good because she used to drive in Bethesda. We go to our hotel. Then to see our son and his apartment. Then back to hotel and a jet lagged sleep.

Day two: Son and his roomate take us to Santa Monica. We buy them lunch on the Ocean. We walk to the end of the pier as a good tourist should. Rt.66. Then over to Venice Beach. Wonderful time. Hippies still exist. Out to the Burbank suburbs and dinner.

Day three: Son picks up his mother for touring of Beverly Hills, and shopping not at Beverly Hills. I take the rental car and the GPS and go out to the north across the Antelope Nat'l Park toward Mojave. I buy myself a fantasy flight in a glider over the mountains. I drive home over those mountains on the amazing Angeles Forrest Highway. It takes a couple extra hours but it is so worth it. A spectacular view at every hairpin switchback turn. Back at hotel wife and I walk to authentic Mexican eatery. And debrief our separate adventures.

Day four: Son picks us up and takes us to Universal City and we tour around. Then a wonderful driving tour of Santa Monica up the Coast Highway, Pacific Palisades, and Malibu. Wife and I go to our new favorite local Vegan restaurant.

Day five: Son picks us up very early and we go to CBS and wait in line and get processed to go to a taping of "The Price is Right". This takes all day and is fun for us because we visit with son all day. We enjoy the show. We eat a fine dinner with son.

Day six: We go to Warner Bros. and spend the day. We go to a nice studio tour. See the sets, the back lots and etc. We stand by for Conan, and just barely don't get in, but we had not waited in line at all. We went back to North Hollywood and went to our favorite restaurant.

Day seven: We hang out at the hotel and in the neighborhood in the AM and I eat street food which is fun. We go to the original "Bog Boy" at Taluka Lake, but we don't eat there. We eat at Marie Callender's bakery. Then back to Warner Bros. . We have tickets for live studio audience at the new Chelsea Handler sit com starring Laura Prepon. This taping takes over six hours but we enjoy it very much and are entertained by a great comedian in between "takes". We go back to our hotel on the Hollywood Freeway without needing the GPS.

Day eight: Son picks us up and takes us to a fine Indian restaurant in Sherman Oaks. We cruise Beverly Hills and head up the mountains to Griffith Observatory for great views of the area and the mountains. We say a big goodbye to son. Later wife and I go back to our favorite restaurant and I have tofu chicken yellow curry for the third time and love it.

Day nine: Travel home day. Wake up to beautiful weather. All nine days are perfect weather. Apparently this is normal, except for occasional acid rain and wildfires. We head out to LAX which is a Sunday madhouse. Dark comes soon travelling east and Baltimore has not the summer it had when we left. It is cold and the leaves are turning. We leave the long term parking lot in wife's Altima. I suggest a debrief at the Double T Diner in Annapolis. But wife wants to go to Outback even though she is a Vegan. We have a nice dinner. Then we are back in our own beds.

The Next morning: We sat in the sun on the front porch with sweaters on. The big farm across the street was a freshly disked and planted field of grooved brown earth when we left ten days ago. Now it was full of green virgin winter wheat that looked like a 200 acre lawn. We sipped coffee with the barn cats underfoot. They were glad mommy was back. We wished each other welcome home. LLITTY :::::+:::::

This is How We Get There.

Wife and I took a trip to California. We looked forward to it. And it turned out to be all that we hoped it would be and more. The most important and precious pleasure was seeing our son whom we had not seen in almost a year. We shopped in advance on line for the cheapest airfare. Hotel. Rental Car. Being a retired airline pilot, one might think I could have gotten a real deal on the airfare. But the real deal of employee discounts at the airlines is riding "space available". This means you only ride when there are extra seats. The airline industry has changed. There was a time that a full airplane was a rare event. If a flight canceled, there were seats on the very next flight. And tickets were refundable. Then government subsidies went away and fuel prices climbed twenty fold. The full airplane cattle car approach is now the norm. Even before 9-11 the experience of flying on an airliner had become drudgery. Where it used to be the best part of ones vacation or business trip. But since 9-11 the simple drudgery of full airplanes, middle seats, no amenities and no one being nice, has been replaced by a surreal nightmare of just getting there with your sanity. And your luggage. And a shred of dignity. I love to fly in any airplane, but I was dreading the travel days of our little vacation.

There was both good and bad on the travel days. Really, really noisy babies and toddlers during the entire flights both out and back. Oversized travellers who used part of my seat space both out and back. Full airplanes.

On the good side we flew non stop each way. Wife had a window seat and although her window was fogged on the way out to L.A., her flight home was clear all the way and she watched the entire country go by and with the prevailing wind the flight took a little over four hours.

We were on a 737. An airplane that used to barely make it halfway across the country. Now more efficient engines and airframes and winglets make the old venerable "seven three" a coast to coaster. I won't tell you the name of the airline we were on, but it's initials are AIR TRAN and it used to be Value Jet. Now I travel in spite of flying on an airplane.
LLITTY :::::+:::::

Rambling Update

Today is Sunday. We've already had three beautiful days to make up for the rains. Now it is so nice I don't even know what to do. My wife has been sitting on the front porch lately about once a day. Her barn cats come over and sit with her. They run away when I come out to sit. They are semi "feral". The porch is in desperate need of a new floor. My wife doesn't seem to mind because it's all about the animals and they like the holes in the floor which give them instant access to the crawl space. I don't have the funds or energy for the new porch floor, but it would be a great fall project. We sit out there and drink coffee and watch the tractors work the large field across the street. That's when you know you are retired.





I am not a motor head. In one of my blogs I have a post about what a really bad mechanic I am. I have seven cars. One not running. One in California. I have two cars visiting that are not mine. In the last week or so, I have had three cars break down and wind up in various shops. Friday I picked up one of the cars from the shop. I drove it sixty miles and it broke down again. It is back in the shop. That was the second time in two weeks that I had two breakdowns in one day. I can't complain. There was a long period where all six cars just did their job. I'm bad about maintenance. I take them to Jiffy Lube, but that's it.





A while back, after our fly-in, a good buddy of mine made me an offer. This unnamed buddy, let's just call him Dempsey, had an idea. He suggested I let him base and store and work on his little sports car in my shed and he in return would work on my "Brittish piece of sh-t". Well, I have never been able to afford a mechanic to work on a hobby car. So I took him up on it. My little Brittish car is called a TR-6 and it was way not running. It could not even move with it's rusted brakes locked. It had not been driven in about 13 years. I have had it eight years and kept it high and dry in my shed and in 2003 I had patched the floorboards so it would not be like a "Fred Flintstone" car. Our first day of working on the thing was just getting the bees nests out of it and making sure the snakes would not come back. About three weeks after our "deal" I found myself driving the crazy little thing down the runway at 50 mph with no brakes. Fueled by a soda bottle full of 100LL aviation gas run through brand new fuel lines into a new fuel pump into the unknown carburators. We had robbed a battery out of my jeep. I was amazed the starter and the clutch and for that matter the engine itself, mostly worked. It was a long way to come from a "dead" car. After that drive I was happy and telling Dempsey he was a "genius" and a "wizard". And he was and is. But there is a long long way to go. Last Saturday we nursed the car about thirty miles on back roads to a "Wings and Wheels" fly in. Dempsy drove the TR and I followed chase in the Ford pick up. We had a great time. Saw two B-25 Mitchells, a Corsair, a T-28, T-6's and many others. And so many beautiful cars. You know. You've been to car shows. If you saw any one of the cars in a grocery store parking lot you'd be blown away. But when there are 200 of them you barely have time to give them a look. I coveted a beautiful cream white Studebaker Avanti parked along side it's show mate, a cherry Hawk. There were 60's convertables, Corvairs, which my mechanic and I both like. Antiques like Model A's and T's, rat cars, etc. you know. But there was my little Triumph on the front line by the planes. Yes it was a rat. No top. Primer patches, bondo patches, no carpet, every single thing on it needing some kind of attention. Yet as I sat in my lawn chair by my car as if I had an immaculate 1957 T-Bird, I talked to passers by who said things like "Oh yes, I know exactly what this is. There was only one at my High School. I love these" My car was a hit. And we had fun because we knew some of the aviation folks too. I owe it all to you Dempsey. Thank you.

LLITTY :::::+:::::

Irene Sunday Cyclone

Yesterday was a long day. Filled with excitement, concern, anticipation. Filled with dramatically bad weather. And dramatically good weather. Oddly our electric power stayed on through the cyclone's visit. So I was able to watch TV and look at the storm's progress on the computer. Until the down cable took those things away. The eye passed abeam our house at 2:45 AM yesterday morning. It was forty miles from us. I got a few hours sleep. I got up at dawn and went out in the high wind. Wind as strong as anything I'd seen leading up to the eye. Maybe worse. The eye at dawn was now 50 miles north of it's abeam latitude but the winds were not subsiding. But I now knew it would get no worse. I stayed out of the house and in the weather from dawn to dark. At nine AM the winds had not let up and I hung out in the pole shed/hangar/lean to. The rain had stopped. But the wind made "rain" as it blew water everywhere. The wind sock was standing straight out and shifting in all directions. At ten AM the windsock showed little signs of bending down and swinging less. By 11 AM the sock had steadied to a less gusty west wind. The eye was now 90 miles north. My wife was going back and forth to the barn and pointed out a narrow band of blue sky on the southwest horizon. I stared at that for a long time. I was soaking up the sea change. The natural feeling you get when you feel the weather and you've been in the pace of the system. The altimeter I had sitting on the kitchen table showed the air pressure had gone up another tenth of an inch but I knew what it was going to say before I read it. Hour by wonderful hour and minute by minute the weather got slowly and steadily better. And I watched it and felt it. I started to pick up limbs. And branches. And twigs. I filled the pick up truck and emptied it several times. The wind was still blowing but ever lessening. At about 4 PM even the thin high cirrus overcast was breaking apart and the sun was shining. I sat down in the hangar on the couch in the "man cave". I slept for an hour. I had had six hours sleep in the last forty eight. When I got up from my nap, the sky was clear except for a band of cumulus low on the horizon out toward Ocean City. A final band of Irene to remind me of her immense size. The wind was calm. The sun starting to set. I opened hangar doors. I got out mowers. I got out cars. I got out the golf cart. I got out the big trash can. I did some mowing and a lot more picking up of sticks. It was one of the prettiest days I had ever seen. Before it got dark I went down to the ditch that runs as a stream thru my property. The state calls it a "branch" as it connects to the Choptank River. In the morning after the eye had passed the water in the ditch was just barely below the footbridge. Now before dark the water had dropped to about a foot lower than the bridge. My farm is saturated but not flooded. If another storm comes anytime soon, I will be flooded.
Now today as I write, I can't wait to get back outside. Into the refreshed atmosphere, the sunshine, the light breezes. I'll walk the airstrip and see how soggy it may be.

My wife invented a dessert called "hurricane cake". It was fabulous and we finished it off quickly. She is now making another one. It's time for our second pot of coffee. There is so much more I could say about the troubles of big Irene. But I probably won't.

I hope all you fellow east coasters fared well.

LLITTY .. .. :::::+:::::

The Late Summerness Now.

Hihowareya. I love this time of the year. The late summer is just excellent. Yes, storms can be severe. And there are hurricanes down south. All our critters are a bit pumped up because it's easier to move around now that the heat waves are mostly over. Today is so pristine I may just sit on the deck and bask in the breeze.

I'm in a life transition. I'm adjusting to not having my companion "Jake the dog". I'm adjusting to not having my airman medical. I'm adjusting to changes in medications that will improve my blood sugar control from sub optimal to near optimal. That control doesn't come easy because it's not all about medication. I have to do the tedious work of testing, exercise, and diet. I am a believer in low carb as a diabetes treatment. Many "experts" think low carb is dangerous.

I walk through these adjustments and I watch summer end toward Labor Day. My strongest emotion now is thankfulness. I have some wonderful events coming up in the future and they are certainly worth looking forward to. In October, wife and I are going to California. We shall visit son. Wife shall do L.A. things. I shall sneak off for three days to do some sailplane flying.

But I'm not going to wait my life away thinking about the future. Because I learned from my dog Jake that "now" is where life is. Now is typing to you. Now is feeling better. Now is enjoying wife and friend in the house with me. Now is the blue unhazed sky which looks like fall except with green trees. Now is today and the now- future of the deck, a little mowing, working on cars for fun with friend, birthday dinner with wife.

It's therapy to be in the now. It's therapy to be thankful. I'm thankful for the now.

Tonight is for Crying

The sad end came for my beloved dog "Jake" tonight. He hid himself in a corner under the kitchen table and would not move. I crawled under there with him. He would not eat a dog treat. He would not eat tuna fish out of my hand. He would not drink water. His panting had turned to a kind of coughing. He looked at me and his eyes said he was tired and he was done. My wife called the vet's answering service and the doc called us back immediately. It was about 8PM. We took him to the vet's office. I had to carry him to the car. He had never let me pick him up before, except when he was a little puppy. I petted him and talked to him all the way to Easton. We put him on a stretcher at the office and carried him in. The Doc was very kind to us and to Jake. As Jake went to his final long sleep I petted him and talked to him the whole time. The doc said he was gone. I couldn't move or talk. I just kept petting him as my eyes filled with tears and my throat lumped closed. He was the only dog of my own I had ever had. He taught me love, devotion, and loyalty. I will never ever forget him. I've been grieving here for the last month because I knew he was dying so I am OK and I was prepared. But my heart is broken tonight. And maybe forever. Goodbye Jaker. I'll never again get to lie on my bed with you and watch tv. Or give you treats you love like McD's Mcdouble plain. Or walk with you on the airstrip while you wander across both sides following old scents and scaring up new ones. Or see you bark and darn near nip at every single person except wife, son, and me. Or see you on the back deck waiting for me for hours as I mow and when I finally come in you howl to scold me for leaving you so long. I tell you a treat will make it better and you wag your tail. You loved riding in the Subaru which you rode in tonight. But you loved the pickup even more. You would watch the road for bunnies and foxes, then lay down with your nose on my leg. No matter where I was, you were there. Always. Thanks for teaching me real love. Thanks for loving me when I was being a jerk and no one else would. From now on I will address my journal entries to you Jake. To keep you up to date on Daddy. You will never be really gone to me. Remember when you were a puppy Jake? I told you every day that mommy was going to get you all your shots, take you to the vets, give you your worm medicine, and fix it so you don't have to sleep under that ole trailer anymore.

Tycoons and Typhoons

I figure all of you, my little circle of friends, have read about the "new" concept of libertarian islands that are currently being started and funded by billionaires. They are going into international waters and putting up oil rig style platforms on which to live unencumbered by the rest of the unpleasant world and the unpleasant people in it. No one will be able to dictate restrictions to them. They will be "free". Free from taxes. Free from the FDA. They can make any miracle food or drug they want. No building codes. No pollution laws. No gun laws. No sex laws. No socialism. No poor people. Free. Rich and free. It sounds pretty good to me. It sounds good to all of us. If they get it going I want to visit there and see what it is like if I would be invited or allowed.


I know, I know. We are all already thinking of all the new problems that would crop up as the old problems go away. Typhoons, pirates, marauders, terrorists with air forces, jealous folks, the need to regulate within the new little family country.

I don't really want to talk about what a great concept it is. Nor do I want to tear the idea apart, which is fun and easy too.


I want to talk about this as being a new idea. It is so not a new idea. Remember in Star Trek that funny fat pirate guy was in several episodes. He had his own utopia on his own planet. He had an android replica of his ex wife that he could activate and listen to her whine just for the pleasure of saying "shut up" and deactivating. Ayn Rand's book "Atlas Shrugged" had all the best men in the world in a secret hideaway in a bowl of mountains in the Rockies or someplace where they could own their inventions without having to give them up to the government which would equally distribute the ideas to all companies to be "fair". This book was in the fifties. Who said "No Man is an Island" John Donne ? He knew centuries ago that you can't opt out. What about grizzly Adams? R. Redford. They had to beg him to come back sometimes to save the folks who couldn't get thru the pass. But if he got sick, or broke a leg he could die without help from the mean cruel civilization below. I remember a book from senior year high school. You could only read British authors for your book reports. It was James Hilton's "The Lost Horizon". The guy finds himself after a crash in "Shangri La", a mountain utopia. Even closer to home, there was a James Bond movie where the guy had an underwater world where he could plot his evil undisturbed.

So the media can tell me all about what these smart, rich, superlative men are doing in their off shore Xanadus. I'm highly interested in the tech and bio and sociology. But please don't tell me it is a new idea. And don't tell me it is happiness or freedom either. I challenge you to even imagine in a fantasy a perfect world. You may find it impossible.

I'm Gonna Miss My Best Friend

I wrote to you a while back about our dog Jack passing away. He was such a fine friend. All our animals really are my wife's. She feeds them and cleans up after them and takes them to the vet etc. But one dog is mine as far as the bond. I really didn't know what friendship and love were until I bonded with my dog "Jake". He was a dog my wife had rescued. He was a puppy who was "dropped" and left to starve or be run over by a car or truck. He was frightened and starved. I had never had my own dog before. This little guy was outside in a pen because my wife didn't want to mix him with the other dogs yet until he got shots and was fixed. At night he would howl a little cry and not go in the doghouse inside the pen. The first night I went into the pen with a chair and sat down and picked him up on my lap and held him and made him stay there. He stopped howling. I did this night after night and after he laid in my lap he would go into the doghouse and be quiet for the rest of the night. This went on for a week until he got his shots and his vet visit out of the way. For the next twelve years he was always at my side. Always. Even if I was mad at him for making a mess or running off, or too much barking. He never held a grudge or was mad at me. Unconditional love. A human can't do it.

About six weeks ago the vet told us Jake had cancer in addition to his severe heart arrhythmia. He would have about a month to live. He would be put down about the time of my fly-in party. The fly-in has come and gone. The vet revised his death sentence to two days to three weeks. If he stops eating, it's the end. So I have been given the wonderful blessing of having some more days to say goodbye. He is on the floor by me as I type now. Yesterday he ate watermelon pieces I threw to him. He caught in the air seven in a row. I'm sleeping on an air mattress now downstairs because he has trouble with the stairs and I want all the time with him I can get. When I went upstairs the other day, he battled his way up and surprised me by walking into my bedroom. I was touched by his devotion, but I don't want him on the steps. Wife took pictures of Jake and I. I say goodbye and I love you everyday to him. Readers I can't express how much I love this dog and how much I will miss him. Many of you are dog owners and you have understood this much longer than I have.

So Jake has lived and he will soon be put to sleep. Death is part of life. Jake will die and I will die and you will die. Jake seems to be hanging in there for now. But it can be anytime. So this, plus the other aspects of my life are one day at a time. Jake is still teaching me a better way to live.

LLITTY :::::+:::::

What was I Just Going To Do?

Last Saturday was the biggest party I ever threw. And it was the best. I thought last year would be unbeatable and all I wanted to do was just repeat it. And I would have been thrilled. We were worried about the weather through the entire event. But we didn't get rained out. The details of what we did and who was there will be in my other blog. I want to talk about being a geezer.

I started preparing for the party by fixing a big hole in the plaster in our dinning room which has turned into a kitchen annex. The room is too small to be a dining room anyway. The rooms in our 100 yr. old farmhouse are small and cut up with doors and windows. There are no closets except the ones I made and they take away from the rooms too. While I was patching the ceiling hole, my wife was deciding to paint the room and she snowballed the ceiling patch into carpet and other things. As we fooled with this room, time started clicking down on cleaning up the cluttered house before the party. And it was an outdoor party so the outside needed a lot of work too.

Here are some of the geezer things I did:

I would go upstairs to my bedroom and then not know what I was there for.

Every time I needed a marker on a project, a sharpie, a carpenter's pencil, anything to mark a line, I wouldn't be able to find one and had to go upstairs to my desk to get it. This went on for four days and 10 trips upstairs. I finally carried a handful of markers downstairs and put them on the kitchen table. And told my wife to buy me a ten pack of Sharpies. And every time I put my wallet in my pocket, or my phone I would put two markers in my pocket. Regardless of what I thought I was going to do.

I was always looking for tools that I had several copies of. The most common missing tools were
tape measure, utility knife, MARKERS, hammer. I got to the point that when I was working with my friend Eric I would call out to him and tell him where I was setting the tape measure so we would both know where it was, at least for that moment.

When you work with paint and drywall compound you pour or scoop out what you need then seal up the can again so your product stays clean and doesn't dry out. Well, I would pour it out and get to work and finish up and put away my working container. Then come back only to find that I never put the top back on the main container.

I was making a repair on our tiny garage building and I had set the electric drill on the back of the golf cart. I needed something elsewhere and I jumped on the golf cart to quickly go get it. My wife was walking by and yelled stop. I didn't want to stop because I was under the sprinkler's water spray. But I did stop and got wet and asked my wife what was so important that I had to stop. And I was kind of cross about it. She pointed to the area behind the golf cart where I had dragged a trail of tools, lumber, chords, lights, a boom box etc. The drill that I had forgotten was on the back of the golf cart and had gotten lodged and the cord was connected and wrapped around everything in the garage eventually yanking out the power strip and the plug. It was a mess, and I quit for the day and apologized to my wife for the next 24 hours.

I went to Nagal's hardware a few times during the last few weeks. It's a feed store, general store. They always have what we need to repair a house or barn or fence or shed. They cost a little more than Wal Mart, but it is more than worth it. One day I went up there for "liquid nails" , a kind of glue. I bought all kinds of things I needed. But after I was home and back at work I realized I didn't get the liquid nails. I had to wait to the next day to go back to Nagal's.

I was working on my hay wagon and had parked it in the shade. Then I had moved the tractor away. Later the shade had moved, I guess the sun had moved. I mean the Earth had rotated. I was in a hurry. I didn't want to go get the tractor. It was 100 degrees out. I put a strap on the hay wagon and tied it to the air conditioned pick up truck. I only wanted to move it about ten feet. There was a limb from a tree that I thought I could clear. I broke the strap and damaged the wagon. I was exhausted and hot and I said some bad words and went into the pool with my clothes on.

I had put that same tractor's battery on the charger. The tractor had been put away last season and was not expected to start. So I tried the key one day and the tractor jumped. I was excited that it had juice. So I went and hooked up cables to the truck, got some starting fluid into the intake, and got out the air hose to fill the front tires and blow off debris. When I saw a big hornet I reacted by spraying air at it. Bad idea. The next thing I knew my hand felt like somebody had stabbed it and I was howling and jumping and getting away from that tractor as fast as I could. I quit and headed for the pool. My wife thought this was amusing.

One morning before everyone was up I wanted to get an early start painting. I had about a half dozen little places that need to be painted with primer. So I went around with a can and a brush and got it all done. I was proud of myself and ahead on the day with projects. Then I realized that for the last hour I had been painting with my white exterior latex which was not primer at all. The cans looked similar. I went in and took a short nap hoping to start the day over again.

Happy mid summer everyone. LLITTY :::::+:::::

Do I Talk to Myself?

I have to admit. I'm not doing as well as I'd like concerning gracefully aging. In my last post I talked about ego and letting it go. We all seek "validation" constantly. We talk about our successes. Our kids. Our talents. If we don't have talents we brag about our close friends and family that do. We want to belong yes. But we also want a time to shine and be recognized. We want 15 minutes of fame. If we get that, we want it again. I bet you have a friend or two that can not shut up about themselves. You could try to tell them that you just ran a marathon and got a promotion at work. Before you could get out the first two words they would be telling you how great they are and never allow you to talk at all. We sort of feel sorry for these egomaniacs. We are embarrassed for them. I am one of them. I'm not overt enough to be embarrassing. But in my busy talking mind, I want validation. OK here's my questions for the 62 year old me:

Can I just let myself be quietly happy?

Is it OK if I do something fun or good and no one knows about it?

Can others shine and succeed (that are way younger than I, of course) and I enjoy that?

Must I really accomplish anything anymore ?

Do I have to think about whether someone likes me?

Does anyone care what I wear?

Will I be able to just "be" some of the time without the image of "me" talking to me constantly?

When will I put up my next UTube vid and will you like me, love me, look at me, me, me, pay attention to me?

LloydLou you think too much. Better try to get some mowing done. . . . LLITTY :::::+:::::

Up Out of the Cave

I have some things to say that would be good for my Aviation blog. But right now I need and want to say personal things. About me of course. I can't say these things on "Twitter" because these remarks will be more than 140 characters.

Right now I should be at a Wings and Wheels at Bay Bridge airport. I never miss it. I love it. But I'm not there. Tonight I should be going to an absolutely fabulous party on the western shore. A party that suits me to a tee. A party that includes picking and singing. People that I like. A magnificent house and grounds I've never been to. But I won't be going there either. I've been ill for a week or so. I seem to be much better today.

I can't understand why it is that I have so many chores and so much mowing to do, and I find myself talking to you my friends. In a dark room with my lazy beagle mix dog, Jake. On what might be the prettiest day ever. I feel dark and pensive, yet oddly at peace. My plan is to later go out on the deck with coffee and watch the shadows lengthen and feel the air cool.

I used to think that if I felt like doing something, then I felt like doing everything. And that's mostly true. But I learned today that I can not feel like going to two wonderful outings that I am supposed to love, and at the same time "feel like" writing to you. My body just somehow told me "not yet" and my mind jumped on it to agree.

We all have an internal dialogue going on in our heads. We are thinking a mile a minute. It's all about our ego. Of course. Everybody knows this. I think that in order to gracefully and happily grow old I've got to work harder on controlling that ego dialogue.

Besides subconscious stuff, I've also got a morals question: How do I deserve this? Here i am at my house. i have enough to eat. i have heat and ac. I have pets that get health care treatment better than the people in third world countries, I have the means to go out and eat with my wife at diners and chain Bar and Grills. I like "Chili's". But they got the worst reviews. dead last. I get to look out my back yard and see wildlife. It used to be wildlife. It's "tamelife" because my wife has birds that will come to her. A horse that will cantor up to the house when she comes out, two barn cats that follow her around in spite of the dogs. A nest of wrens below her air conditioner that are the same birds year after year, the Martin house on a pole has starlings in it, not Martins, A pair of Pigeons she feeds and their chicks, a rabbit or two that she feeds and talks to, deer in our back pasture. I'm retired. I pretty much get to do what I want all the time, I learned that you can't get to do anything you want. And certainly not all the time. Even though I don't work for money anymore I still work. I co- manage our home. Do indoor and outdoor chores. My laundry. I do consider that work. By not having work to go to, I have more control. Control is good and bad. Self help volumes have been written about letting go of control. I am checking off control as one of the things I have. Good for me. Maybe. How can I have what I have when people are starving. Should I feel guilty having a good life?

A Car with an Incurable Disease

I have type 2 diabetes. Fortunately my case is moderately mild. The disease has a tendency to progress so I will be in real trouble in the future and perhaps die from it, or from complications arising from it. I've been told that the disease has been "cured" in pigs. And that lab rats can be given the disease and then "cured". I'm hoping for that cure. Really hoping for that cure.

I've sometimes wondered what it would be like to have conventional medicine work on my car. I would take my car to the Doctor: Hi Doc. Getting the appointment way far ahead and doing all the paperwork and insurance verification to make sure I can afford you wasn't too bad. And the wait was actually tolerable. Your nurse has done everything on my car for you. The symptoms, the vitals, the questionnaire. My car has been weighed. My car's ancestry has been gone over. We've answered the questions about whether any other cars from the same factory have had this malady. Going back to 1920. So now I have this valuable 90 seconds with you while other cars are waiting in the next stalls to see you too. I'm going to get the help my poor car needs. Every time I start it up, It steams and the engine light comes on and it hisses doc.

"LloydLou, your car has a disease. Don't worry, it's fairly common. It's called "overheating". Now that I've done the diagnosis I'll be recommending a specialist for you. I don't actually work with cars that have "overheating". The specialist will help you. He will teach you what you will need to know to take care of your car now that it has this disease. He'll show you how to let the engine cool down. He'll install an expensive instrument called a water temperature gauge that will work in conjunction with your engine light. He'll probably tell you to add water to the radiator every day. Usually it's every time you operate the car. He'll explain that it is better to use a coolant called anti freeze which is more expensive than water. As a matter of fact if you use water, your car will blow up. He will be able to explain why that happens. I have a free sample of anti freeze you may have, It's the kind I recommend. The representative from that anti freeze company was just here yesterday. The specialist will caution you that overheating is a progressive disease. You see, when your car steams and hisses, that's bad. And the more times it does that the more it affects other parts of your car. Parts that you don't understand. The engine, the hoses, the radiator, the water pump, the oil pump etc. But don't worry too much. There are specialists that can help you with these components. Eventually, you will need a new engine, and sadly your car will of course die eventually from this disease. Good luck with the specialist. And remember to take you water temperature every day and add water. Your 90 seconds are up. Stop by the front counter for scheduling and billing. I'll see you in three months."

What a Friend

We had our dog "Jack" put down on Wednesday. He was 12 and his cancer caught up with him. My wife took him in to the vet for a final diagnosis. We both went back to see him and say goodbye. We were there in a room with him and he was awake and responding nicely to us as we pet him and hugged him and talked to him. I never wanted to leave that room. That was a sad day. When we left I told my wife that I was free all day and would hang with her or not as she wished. And that we could go to lunch and "toast" the best friend we had. She wanted to go home and see the rest of her animals and just have a quiet day. So we went home. I was surprised when after she had checked on her animals she asked me if I was still up for going to lunch. I said of course. Another surprise was that she wanted to go to Milford. A town an hour away by the seashore that we had never been to. We had a lovely drive on back roads. A lovely meal in a quaint neighborhood. A lovely drive home. Our three remaining dogs have acted quite differently since Jack has been gone. They know he's not coming back. My dog "Jake" usually hangs out where I am. But now he's staying even closer to me. The other two dogs are being very quiet. The morning after Jack died was tough for my wife. That's when it really hit her that he was gone. We have a very old nanny goat with horns. She is not going to be with us much longer. We already have a grave dug for her in the back pasture I have boards over the hole so no one can fall in. I'm sad about Jack. I may be even more sad about BeeBee, our goat, when we finally lose her. I've learned so much about friendship and love from these animals. I didn't even know what friendship was until my dog "Jake" bonded with me. He is with me now as I type. He's old too and within a year or two we'll be putting him down. That will be hard for me to bear. But I won't want him to suffer. All I know is I'm happy to have Jake now. All he ever knows is "now". I asked my wife how is it that I can love a dog so. She said: "They are so loyal. They don't hold a grudge". Bye Jack. We will miss you. LLITTY :::::+:::::

Repent. The End of the World

I'm really interested in the claim that the world will end on May 21, 2011. Eleven days from now. I'm surprised that it has gotten so little press. No one I know is really very interested in it. It's just one more crazy guy and his followers saying the end is near. It's been said for thousands of years and nobody has got it right yet. The big day comes and goes and we all laugh at the fools who believed it. Sometimes the fools kill themselves. We all knew better. The crazy doomsdayers usually follow a charismatic leader. Maybe they drink Kool aid. We all know better. Maybe they wait at a special place to watch the non believers suffer and fall into a lake of fire. They are dumb crackpots. We all know better. Why waste our time listening to their predictions. OK. I get it. You're right. Just a few crazies. When I talk about May 21 I am boring you.

Please let me explain why I think May 21 2011 is interesting. Bear with me. I'm nuts too. But hear me out.

1. The people doing this are not alien worshiping trekies. They are bible believing Christians. They are devout Christians. They are not claiming anything that can not be found in the bible.

2. They are not open to debate on this. No one is allowed to even comment on it, without being told they are associated with the Devil.

3. They believe that the "church age" ended in 1988. Anyone going to church today is worshiping under the Devil.

4. Their leader, Harold Camping, claims no supernatural connection to God. He is not a minister, pastor, or PhD.

Now for my opinion. And why the heck I care about this. I am sick and tired of Christians getting a free pass on their bible. The same bible that Harold Camping has been studying all these years. He and his followers are "crazy" for predicting the end of the world on May 21. But Christians are perfectly sane when they believe that the first human woman was made from a rib of the first man. And that all men are under the curse and wrath of their god and require a "savior" from the very god that created them. And that subjugating women, and slavery, and child killing and honor killing are acceptable. I'm tired of the bad stuff in the bible getting a free pass. Harold Camping's end of the world scenario is just as valid as this other nasty stuff we're to believe in in order to get to heaven, and avoid hell. We are to accept "creation" as an explanation of human existence in the universe. The entire body of knowledge concerning "creation" is two pages in the bible. I'm sick of it being given an equal stance against science. Where the body of knowledge is ever increasing and self correcting. So, if you want to believe that Harold Camping and Family Radio are "insane". I'm with you. And we can all have a nice laugh on May 21st. But we should criticize the "inerrant" bible for all the rest of it's insane stuff while we are at it. It's time for non believers to start putting the whole bible in the face of Christians. The really bad stuff. It just might make them re evaluate their "loving" god of Abraham. The biggest myth in Christianity is that the belief system is "good news". This is why Christians don't want to challenge Mr. Camping. They know he knows much more about their bible than they do. They want to distance themselves from him. But they believe in the same bible he believes in and there is no distance. The same bible that is the only thing they have. It is more and more under computer age scrutiny. And this end of the world stuff comes from people in their own ranks, and they are stuck with the crazy people and they are stuck with the crazy verses. Like 2 Kings 2, 23-24 . It may take 200 years, but it will all come down. Don't be mad at me if you believe. It's just my opinion. I could be wrong. And I firmly believe in Peace on Earth and Good Will toward men. You believers pray for me. You non believers know from whence I come. On May 21st I'll be at the Horn Point fly-in. Weather permitting! And I mean that in the scariest way. LLITTY :::::+:::::

The Martin, Part 2

When days go by and I don't do anything, I guess one of the things I don't do is make my daily journal entry. This is usually just a few basic lines about my mundane retired life. Oh it was really disco when I was a jet pilot! So when I have to bring the journal up to date because it's a week behind, well it's embarrassing for two reasons: one, I can't remember what I did yesterday, let alone 5 or 6 days ago! two, I realize I really haven't done anything...much...at...all.

Once a month or so I get the "muse" instead of the "blues". Or maybe more accurately, I get the muse because of the blues. And what happens is I start out receding into a shell. Hiding in my room...safe within my womb...I touch no one and no one touches me....well actually, I do touch myself. I was in that afterglow of that house concert I told you about and I was trying to suggest a song to Victoria Vox for a cover via a fan letter. It was an old Niel Young song "Lotta Love"....you remember. It was a "one hit wonder" for Nicolette Larson and the album was simply called Nicolette. So I surfed around YouTube and I wrote the fan letter. But in the process I rediscovered a new favorite song that just hit me like a "bolt out of the blues". It wasn't "Lotta Love". It was a Nicolette song called "Last in Love". I went nuts liking the song. When I found her live version of it, recorded at the "Roxy" with this super star keyboard guy, Bill Payne, it was like a religious experience. It was from 1979 and the memories came flooding back. I had two romances going, one in DC which was big. A true love I guess. The other in Detroit which was small. A fling I guess. Both these girls constantly played this Nicolette album, and everybody was playing it. This was exactly the time that I bought the Martin guitar in Ypsilanti. I was beginning my airline career and I was thirty years old. So I'm listening to this Billy Payne version and I'm remembering that Nicolette fell into depression and addiction, as so many did back then and she sang so pretty and I had forgotten all about it and I just started tearing up and I can't explain it.

My brother has a friend who has written a book about Wagner, the Opera guy. The Gist of his book promotes the idea that emotions brought forth in the arts are exactly the same as in religion. The same brain chemicals, hormones, etc. He claims in the book that Wagner is saying this as a main theme through all his works.

So. Okay. I have a new favorite song. "Last in Love". It will be perfect for YouTube. It's unknown and forgotten, yet it's an oldie that some will remember fondly. Perfect right? Wrong. So wrong. After a little research I find out that George Strait, the King of Country, is so all over this song that everybody on YouTube thinks he wrote it. He put it in a movie in 1992. A smarmy redneck superficial sentimental thing called "Pure Country". He had the song on the charts too. So now I sort of don't want to put the song on YouTube. And I did all that work falling in love with the song. If you change the way you think about something....the thing you are thinking about changes. :::::+:::::

That's a cool way to just end this post. But allow me a tiny epilogue. When I listened to the George Strait version on YouTube, I must admit it was very well done. He didn't sell out the song into hee- haw land. It was very nicely sung and the lyrics were exactly like the author wrote them. The author by the way is JD Souther. Remember "You're Only Lonely"?. So at least I have a new favorite song writer. I havn't been writing in the journal every day, but I have been picking up the Martin every day. But it will only play one song. LLITTY :::::+:::::

the Martin Part 1

I think we all need an emotional outlet. A vent. I envy the artist who can paint out his heart on canvas. Or the pianist who can sit and play all night till her blues are used up. I really envy the physically fit people who look forward to their workout. Rowing, a bike ride. They get the physical and the mental release. It's just not simple for me. I don't know what is going to give me the release. Sometimes I just luck out and there it is. But I don't have a "go to" thing. If my "go to" thing was something like golf, or flying a single-seat sailplane, I don't think it would work forever because those things might not be a true release. They are maybe just playing at something I like. If I had a little motor boat and took it out every single day, of course I'd get sick of it. I have a little airplane, and I almost never take it out to just fly around. And I surely wouldn't want to fly it every day. The closest that I can maybe come to a "go to" mental release is my guitar. I used to keep it in the man-cave which is an air conditioned little room in our pole shed. But lately it's been sitting in my bedroom so I can just pick it up anytime. My playing doesn't have to be "good". Nobody can hear it, and my wife says it doesn't disturb her. That's all great. But here's the problem. If I am mentally energized enough to pick up the guitar in the first place, I'm probably okay and not desperate for the release it could give. Once you are depressed, well, you don't feel like doing anything. I'm hoping that when I'm down I can just pick up the guitar, or take a walk, even though I don't feel one bit like doing it. Then let the activity take it's course. If you change the way you think about something; the thing that you are thinking about changes.

My old guitar has been pronounced dead a long time ago. And I have ordered a new guitar. It will be built in July. In the mean time, I lowered the tuning on my old one, put on new strings, capoed up to concert and it actually works well enough for me to fool around with. Oddly, when I went to the house concert mentioned in my last post, I at the last minute decided to case up and bring the old guitar along just for the heck of it. And minutes before the guests arrived I set the old Martin out on a stand in the front room just for decoration along side of the baby grand. Well, it turned out that through the evening after the concert, several guests picked up the old thing and played it. These guests were accomplished players. I could have tried to explain about the de-tuning, and the bad "intonation" and the rough "action" that makes it hard to play. But I didn't and the old pros just played it. It was the only guitar there. Even the featured performer played a song with it! This is just such a sweet swan- song for my old Martin D-18. I had bought it used on consignment in a famous little shop in Ypsilanti, Michigan over thirty years ago. When I get my new guitar, the Martin will be retired as a campfire guitar I suppose. But for now and the next three months it's still my "go to". .. LLITTY :::::+:::::

Victoria Vox ! Victoria Vox !

I'm not a tweeter, or a tweetee. So I don't know much about it. I think I might like it though, because my blog is a kind of diary. And I thank any readers who have looked in to see if I've posted anything. Of course I havn't! I can only write when I'm in a good mood. When I'm in a good mood well, then I'm too busy living and playing my part in the theater of life. Fortunately, when I'm not in a good mood, I'm not that bad. Maybe a bit apathetic. Non energetic. If I'm bi- polar, I've got plenty of company. Some people just have to get around other people to recharge themselves socially. At a place where everybody knows their name. I, however, need to be alone.

I'd like to throw a party here at my house maybe three times a year. This August will be my eighth annual "fly-in". But I'd like to have a music party. A "Jam Session" maybe once or twice a year. I'll call it a "Coffee House" and have an "Open Mike". In the last few years I've been to a few "house concerts". This is where you have a single, professional, musical act at your party and you pay them. I'd like to do one of those, but I'm pretty far out of town. Normally those are thrown in the suburbs. I know of several Jam Sessions in the suburbs where the event takes place as a music meeting once a week. These can be private, or in the case of a Folklore Society, or something, it could be open to the public and you just show up with your fiddle, banjo, boyfriend, etc. Every week. My hat goes off to the folks who throw these parties once a week. It says a lot about their personality as far as patience, good nature, dependability.

I had the privilege of working as a volunteer at a very successful house concert last week. Myself and my pickup truck were put to good use for a day and a half. At twilight the concert began. And I stopped working and became a "guest" and turned into an immediate, automatic, huge, fan of the featured entertainer. She was enchanting. Both as an entertainer and as a musician. She could do so much. I'm not going to try to describe how incredibly talented she is. I will say this. There was total silence while she was on stage. Most acts get smothered in crowd mumble noise. Especially outside, as this was. Okay, I'll say two more things. She plays ukulele and she makes you smile. The rest you'll have to find out on your own.

Our host was gracious. His home was beautiful. The weather cooperated for a time window during the concert, and went back to rain. I got the autograph I was promised. And I was oh so tired. That really good tired. . . . . :::::+::::: LLITTY

A Song For Japan

I have a new part time hobby. My father in law has a "time share" that he is stuck with. "Time shares" are a nasty, toxic, unfortunate "investment". There are literally tens of thousands of them for sale for $1. One Dollar. The owner is stuck with fees for the rest of his life, and he can't get out of it. So they say. I've only been learning about time shares for three days, and I'm blown away by what I've learned. I was really mad and frustrated about it on the first day. But now I've just settled in to doing my homework on it. Hey, I'm retired.

Today I tried to start my backhoe. It's an old MF..........Massey Furguson, what did you think I meant? I put in the big battery which was charged. I added power steering fluid. Added oil. Pumped up a tire. Cleaned battery cables and terminals.Then hooked up jumpers from my truck. But I could not get it going. I can not afford a mechanic, so I may have to wait and hope for a friend to come help me.

Tonight I forgot all about the GD backhoe. Wife and I went to the Avalon, as we often do. My wife is always on top of the schedule at the Avalon. We usually get good seats. Tonight was no exception. There are four opera boxes in the 400 seat theater. We were in one of them. I knew so little about Rosanne Cash. I was running late getting ready after wrenching and getting greasy. So I googled up Rosanne's bio. Hit the print button. And jumped in the shower. On the way to Easton I read the bio aloud and we learned a bit about Johnny Cash's daughter. It was a beautiful evening outside. Sunset. Cobblestone streets. Quaint Town. The town still remembers what it was like before The Bridge went in in 1953 and connected Delmarva to the world. You can't not love Easton. And it was finally Spring. Rosanne was accompanied by her husband on stage. John Leventhal. This guy was outrageously awesome. I'm not going to try to describe how great he was. She was singing ballads. He was filling in with licks that sounded like an orchestra. He played the piano very well too. The Avalon's grand. She sang fourteen songs and a two song encore. I just smiled the whole time. We weren't listening to a band. We were watching this husband and wife duo with their acoustic guitars. She sang the Dylan song "Girl from the North Country". She explained that when her father appeared on Dylan's surreal album "Nashville Skyline" in 1969, she was officially the coolest fourteen year old girl in the world. To arrange her own version of the song "North Country" she had to go back to Dylan's 1963 recording and find her own way. There is this Jesse Winchester song, "Blow on Chilly Wind" that I love. I somehow relate it to Rosanne, I believe it was on an album she had. I was waiting for the song, but no go. But there is a song of hers that she had on the charts, that she wrote, that we all know. "Seven Year Ache" Such a fine song. Such a big applause. Such a wonderful night for wife and I. The last two songs were filmed for "Artists for Japan". A movie which will donate all it's income to relief efforts for Japan. Thank you Rosanne and John. Thank you Avalon theater. Thank you Easton. :::::+::::: LLITTY

Frustration; A "chip" on my shoulder

I feel a disjointed geezer rant coming on. Do you have cable TV? Remember sometime back all the old TV's that weren't "cable ready" had to have a set top box to make the cable work. Then not too long ago the cable went digital and was still partially analog. Now the cable company is telling us they are going "all digital". We now have to go back to a "set top box" on our "cable ready" TV. Kind of like the old boxes we had when cable first came out. We got via UPS: one set top box, and two adapter boxes, so we can have three TV's set up. The hardware is free and the monthly bill will not change. And we will get more channels and better picture. Here's the problem. I'm a 61 yr. old cynic. Nothing is free. I don't want anything that is free. I don't want to change my GD TV set up. I don't want it to be better. I pay a lot every month now. Leave my service alone. I'm very wary of these "improvements". But I have no choice. I'm betting after a few months they will start raising rates to pay for these "free" upgrades. Then their customers will be embedded in the new system and just keep paying the newer, bigger bill. The cable company, like City Hall, will always win. If I want a "fourth" TV adapter, it is $1.99 per month. I have a little 13 in. TV in the kitchen. I have it on while I do the dishes. Or watch the weather channel while I have breakfast. I love the little TV. But I don't know if I want to pay two bucks a month for it. And I have a fifth TV in my son's room which will be a guest room. So it will die too when the new "better" service starts, unless I pay another $2/ month. We have installed the set top and the adapters and the remotes. My wife has spent most of the day on the web and on the phone with Comcast trying to get our new digital service initiated/activated. Now we have been told that we must take it all down and pack it up and take it to their service center as it it not initializing. We will be issued another set of equipment. And they are going to do this with millions of households! And we lose two TV's! I'd like to share my secret scenario now: In a few months, the cable bill will go up quite a bit. When it does, I will take reactionary irrational action. I will calmly disconnect the new set top box, and the two adapter boxes, along with the three Comcast remotes and take them out to the back yard. I will set them on a cinder block or two and smash them with a sledge hammer until they are in small pieces. I will put the pieces in the original box and ship them back to Comcast. And I will of course, terminate my relationship with comcast. Including my computer cable contract. I will then go 60 days with no TV at all, just for principle. Then go satellite. This is just a fantasy. So I'm just kidding, I guess. But I suppose it could happen. A clearer head will prevail. My wife will get the new equipment and I'm sure the new "sort of free", or "free with a lot of strings and catches" digital cable service will be fine. There will likely be an after market gadget that I will be able to buy to hook up to the little kitchen TV to make it work too. And if we ever go HD with our sets, we'll be all ready. But somehow, someday, there is a sledgehammer/electronic device episode in my future. It will probably involve a computer and/or a cell phone. :::::+::::: LLITTY

Journey On

My wife and I went out tonight to the Avalon Theater to see Arlo Guthrie live on his "Journey On" tour. This was good for me because I have been slowly crawling out of a very deep mental abyss which started maybe a score of days ago. My wife has been very kind to me indeed. So I'm glad I could atone a bit and join her in "going to town". She really had a good time. And she's not into folk singers. She likes blues. But Arlo did some stuff that suited her. A Leadbelly tune. And an excellent rendition of St. James Infirmary. Damn Arlo was good. He had an ensemble of seven behind him. It was interesting how his band backed him up. They kept the theme of Arlo being a solo act. Often they were quietly sitting out because Arlo was being Arlo. He had three ladies, a sister group, who were his back up chorus. A drummer and bass player. His son Abe on keyboards, and an incredible lead guitar player on fender tele who played violin nicely on slow songs. Arlo also played piano on maybe six songs, instead of guitar. He used 4 different guitars, all acoustic. I hadn't listened to Arlo in thirty years. He sounded just like he did way back when. He talked before every song in warm, comic, introductions, and we found ourselves laughing out loud. He did a long funny story leading up to "Coming into Los Angeleez". Which I loved. He talked about his wife of 42 years. He played tribute to Hoyt Axton who was his dear friend. To Leadbelly. To Janus Ian. But most of all, he played tribute to his father, Woody. Near the end of the concert, he sang "This Land is Your Land". He would sing a verse, then stop and talk and explain something about Woody. Then do another verse and stop and talk again, on and off for five verses. He said he "learned" the song in fifth grade like many of us did. He went home and got out his 3/4 scale Gibson guitar which his father had given him on his fifth birthday and tried to play the song. His father saw this and went and got out some old papers. He showed Arlo some verses that would not have been "allowed" in the grade school songbook. I didn't buy tickets to Arlo so that I could hear "City of New Orleans" live. Which he did at the piano, by the way. I wanted to touch a legacy. I wanted to be near an icon. I got exactly what I wanted and more. This guy is a real live genuine legend. And thanks to my wife we were in the second row center and the first row seats in front of us were empty! And the 400 seat room was sold out. So just call me star struck if you like. I was ten feet away from Woody Guthrie's son and grandson for a nice two hour concert. Two nights from now wife and I are going out again to live music. This time a local geezer country rock band. Of great players and great guys (and girl). There will be friends and relatives there. And people that like me. And people that I want to like me. Somehow I care again. Thank goodness for my wife. Thank goodness for music. Thank goodness for Spring. Thank goodness I can Journey On.

What a Waste of Time

I've been wasting time. Day after geezer day I've done nothing. As it turns out, the rest of the world has hurried along without me. Important things have gone on. And important people have reacted to those things. The "revolution" in the Middle East is at a beginning. Egypt, Iran, Libya. Oil prices are going up, economies are crashing. While all this is going on, I look outside and notice that the wind is blowing. And I wonder what the date is. Is February finally over? Is it even possible to "waste" time? As I use up time, I am using up my life. Is having time in my past better than having time in my future? If I could be twenty years old again would I want that, so that I could have more time?. If I waste time playing solitaire, is there something immoral about that? I could be doing something productive somewhere. Maybe helping someone? Is watching a football game on TV a better use of time than playing solitaire? Is watching a football game live in the stadium a better use of time than watching it on TV? Is one man's time more valuable than another's? If the president plays a game of solitaire surely he wastes more time than if I do. But if the president plays solitaire, the essence of the game of solitaire changes. It might become popular. Someone might report the results of the solitaire game in the media. Then when I play solitaire it might not be viewed by my peers in the same waste- of- time way. When we fault Nero for fiddling while Rome burned, we're not saying fiddling is a waste of time. Only in some situations. Yet we have the expression "fiddling around", which obviously came from that legend. There's a Chinese proverb about the humble man frying a fish. It asks the question whether his activity is any less important than any other. So it seems that the value of time is relative. It depends on who's spending the time. And what the activity is. And what activity is being neglected. All I want to do is play solitaire. Without feeling guilty. So I'll quote Bertrand Russell: "The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time." And finally, Ralph Waldo Emerson. "To fill the hour, that is happiness, and leave no crevice for repentance or approval".