Hurray! The Dow Dropped 416 Points!

I guess I’d better explain that headline.

I’m sure you heard, as the media breathlessly reported yesterday, the Dow Jones Industrials dropped 416 points in one day.  Depending on your situation in life, this could be a good thing or a bad thing.  For me, right now, at this moment, it’s a good thing.

I invest the way experts say most women invest.  I’m a buy and hold kind of guy.  I have at least 20 years before I retire.  So, I have, almost excusively, growth stock mutual funds in my 401(k).  Yes, I lost a lot of money yesterday.  But, in 20 years, it won’t even be a blip on the radar.

This is why I’m (a little) happy for myself.  For the last 6 or 7 years, there has been a very strange phenomenum that occurs every month when my plan purchases my shares.  The price spikes in the days immediately surrounding my purchase date.  BTW, you don’t think that has something to do with the fact that almost ALL 401(k) s are making purchases at the same time, do you?  Anyway, after the price has spiked (meaning I’ve bought less shares), it goes back down to “normal” levels the rest of the month.

Unless there’s an incredible surge, I’m actually going to get to buy MORE shares, for once.

And they’ve got 20+ years to grow.  Well, probably not that long.  About age 55, I’ll start converting from stocks to something a little less volatile.  Like oil futures.

Attention WKRN, WSMV, WTVF, and WZTV!

Read this.

Can you say, “hidden camera?”

Can you say “May sweeps?”

Now, y’all go get to work.  Go do some good.

About Tattoos

I think I need to clarify why tattoos made my “sick of” list.  I want to stave off a flame war before it starts.  The quickest way to start a flame war (besides posting about circumcision, right Lindsay?) is to post either affirmatively or negatively about tattoos.  That was not my intent.  I am quite libertarian about the subject.  They’re just not for me.  I repeat: I don’t hate tattoos; they just aren’t for me.

I think it’s gone beyond my own personal taste.  Tattoos have gone the way of disco and the ‘F’ word.  When something that is known as edgy or “cool” gets becomes so mainstream that even your grandmother has taken it up, it ceases to be “cool”.  When I was growing up, having a tattoo told the world you were colorful, adventurous, rebellious, and a little dangerous.  That’s gone now.  Now, they’re just part of the human dress code.

A little confession: I love, REALLY love, women’s skin.  Trust me, I married the right woman - she has the most beautiful skin I’ve ever seen.  I hope no one takes offense, but when I see a tattoo on a woman, I feel like someone’s put a billboard on the beach.  It may have a heart-felt message, the artwork on the billboard may be beautiful, it may even have a message that could save the world.  But it obscures the even more beautiful view of God’s creation.  But this is my particular fetish.  It’s me, not you.

I do not think tattoos are sinful, or ugly, or make a woman “loose”.  In fact, now that everybody’s got one, they don’t mean anything except to their bearer.  And that’s OK.

Now that I’ve gone on record with this, watch me get a Harley and “Born to Ride” tat on my 65th birthday…

Two Lists

List one: Things I am absolutely sick of or bored with.

The Dixie Chicks and their feud with country radio.
“Live Like You Were Dying”
That Center for Science in the Public Interest Guy. Pssst. Dude. News Flash: you’re going to die. I just wanted you to know that. One day, you’re going to die. If I weren’t so bored with him, I’d love to see a Coblian analysis of this guy and his crusades.

Tattoos
Stacy Campfield - not even Aunt B can make him interesting to me anymore.
Pacman Jones
Anna Nichole Smith
The Geico cavemen
Homework
School Fundraisers.
Suffering
Did I mention Pacman Jones?

List two: Things I can never get enough of.

Jaws (only the first one)
Born To Run (the Album)
My wife’s presence.
Lean Cuisine Barbeque Chicken pizza
Jesus (the one who physically rose from the dead and was therefore, God)
Coblian Philosphy.
The key of “A”
Blogger meetups.
Brick House
The laughter of my children
Watching TooToo put the smackdown.
James Taylor
Searching For Bobby Fischer
Seeing the Holy Spirit at work
Going to Titans games with my brother
Harmonizing with Susie, Mark, Vince, Brooke and Katy.
Ugly Betty

You good people.

I’m sure there’s more I could add to both lists, but that’s enough for now.

Premature PlanVacation

I suffer from premature planvacation.  Yes, I know, I could always think about baseball, but that just reminds me of spring training, which reminds me of Florida, which just gets me going all over again.

Before we delve into this further, let’s get one thing out of the way.  Yes, I know that compared to 99% of the world’s population, I am indecently wealthy.  Yes, I realize that it seems sinful that anybody should have any decadent fun as long as there are people suffering in the world.  Especially during Lent .  But, being in an insomnia-based delirium, I say this : Tough Tooties.

Is there any pleasure on earth that can match the planning of a long-anticipated vacation?  There are only a few, and they are comparable.  The heart races in expectation.  Desires, long habored deep within, are allowed to bubble to the surface, one by one.  Breaths shorten, as fantasies are allowed to become ever more real.

And that’s just at expedia.com .

That may be why I had insomnia last night.  Our 20th anniversary trip is 5 months away, and I found a good deal on airfare last night.  That led to checking on a car rental.  We had booked the condo last June (it’s a small place in high-demand).  I found a good deal last night on a hotel for the two extra nights we’re staying.

I can’t tell you how much fun it all is.  Just the planning.

It doesn’t matter that the costs are piling up.  Normally, I’d worry about it, but this year, I am celebrating 20 years with my beautiful bride.  I want to see her face as she watches what has been described as the most beautiful sunset on earth.  I want to spend a whole day living out a Corona commercial.  I want to spend days with the children, not rushing them to be anywhere.

Part of the problem, of course, of premature planvacation is that you MUST pace yourself.  It is very important to save some planning for the coming months.  Hopefully, I can do that.  But it is quite difficult.

Maybe if I think about Helen Thomas…

Blankly Staring

My dad has possessed a torturous malady for quite a long time (at least 15 years).  He can get to sleep with no problem.  Then, abrutly he wakes at about 2:00 am and cannot get back to sleep.  No wonder he’s always grumpy.

 Well, here we are.  It happened to me this morning.  Not quite as bad as my dad’s problem, but close.  I woke at 3:30, and simply could not get back to sleep.  I gave up and got out of bed at 4:00.  After a pot of coffee and getting ready for work, I managed to be pretty awake and alert.  Now, sitting in my office, I am in a haze.

Yes, I ingest way too much caffeine.  I don’t know if cutting back would help or not.

If I have any posts today that make it appear that I am in a drug-induced delirium, you’ll know why.

Charm School Update

The kids finally made it to White Gloves and Party Manners this weekend.  The first week, we couldn’t go because of Trillian’s Trash Art Contest thingie.  The second week was a snowy Saturday, so it was cancelled.  So here we are, three weeks in, and the kids finally get to go to class.

In fact, they went to a “double” class, to make up for the first week.  Lintilla and I dropped them off and went shopping for two whole hours in Green Hills Mall (I’m old enough to say that I’ll NEVER call it “The Mall at Green Hills”).  As an aside, all of us have malls that fit our personalities; Green Hills is not it for me.  I feel so out of place there, and I can’t afford ANYTHING there.  If you’re curious, Opry Mills is the mall that best fits my personality: big, loud, nothing “posh”.  But I digress.

I know very little about what the ladies did to my children during those two hours.  I know that Zaphod was the only boy in the second hour, and that they gave the kids homework.  As you know, that’s a sore spot with us.  But this seems to be pretty reasonable: they have to write a thank-you note.  To my son, you might as well be asking him to kiss his sister.  I have no idea why writing a thank-you note is such torture to him, but it’s a battle we’ll fight till he’s done.

It’s my understanding they worked on phone etiquitte as well.  Good!   Now, maybe my daughter will learn to say “goodbye” before she hangs up.

Something they learned that I didn’t know: a man should not extend his hand to shake a woman’s hand until she does.  Here I am, 42 years old, and I’ve been shaking wrong all these years.

Hopefully, as they learn more, they’ll pass the knowledge along to me.  Lord knows, I need it.

Ode To The Crisping Sleeve

Oh, silver and fair
You are beyond compare!
You complete me, oh queen
Or, at least my Lean Cuisine
Panini!
Crunchy crispness outside
Saucy meat inside
To please me you slave
In my microwave.
Lean Pocket!
Always brown even-handed
I take you for granted
I wish you were wearable
You make lunchtime bearable
Crisping Sleeve!

Grill Trouble

Time for a little distributed problem solving.  I need some advice.  This weather lately has got me thinking of “springy” things.  This year, I’d like to take care of, once and for all, something that’s been bugging me for years.

You see, when my father-in-law designed his house (which is now our house), it was the late 50’s early 60’s.  Decks were not as big then, patios were.  So we have a patio.  A cool patio, with a rock-wall planter around it.  We have it filled with hostas, because it’s impossible to kill hostas.  The neatest feature about this patio is that there is a built-in barbeque, or grill, or whatever it was called at the time.  Here it is:

Never  mind all the leaves .

I love this thing.  I’d love for it to be my primary outdoor cooking appliance.  But here’s the problem.  It’s only good for direct-heat cooking.  Obviously, there’s no lid, so indirect heat won’t work.  If I have to cook with direct heat, I prefer gas.

So, for the years I’ve lived here, I’ve rarely used this old gem.  I want to, though.  The way I see it, I have two choices, both of them kind of expensive.  I could have someone come out and retrofit it for gas (it would have to be propane, we do not have natural gas at our house).  Someone who knew what they were doing would have to do it.  I don’t trust myself.

Or, I could have a lid fabricated for it, probably out of sheet metal.  It would have to be fabricated, because the shape is so strange:

It almost begs for a roll-top, but I ain’t made out of money.

To be honest, I prefer cooking with charcoal.  My dad taught me the best methods of searing with direct heat, then cooking with indirect heat.  You can do that with gas, but it’s harder.  I also need to get out without losing an arm and a leg.

If y’all could give me ideas and advice, I’ll invite you over for a cookout this summer!  

Nashville Star Update

I went to the Predators game last night (bleh), so my Nashville Star viewing was from DVR.  I first want to say that I don’t think I’ve ever had so many tears watching a reality show before.  So many moments.  This is why I love country music.  You could see it in the show: real people.  Real problems. Real Joy.  You just can’t get that from “singing contests” where the point is to pick the best Perfect Plastic Person.

I’ll get right to the contestants, so I’ll leave the “star” performances alone (although I think it was the height of irony that Blake was “pitchy”).

First up was Zac.  When he started his song, “Lady” (you know, sung Kenny Rogers written by Lionel Ritchie?), I thought he made a huge tactical mistake.  The song is too flat, I thought.  Boy, was I wrong.  Even though his voice was scratchy, his performance sent chills down my spine.  I’m starting to believe he could move people by singing the phone book.

Joshua Stevens put in a great performance of that Tim McGraw song from Flicka (Better Love, or something like that).  He was good, and the performance was heartfelt.  What they did in his video intro just didn’t seem right.  Somehow, a televised, made-for-tv meeting with the mother who abandoned him seemed contrived.  Perhaps it’s because my wife had a much more private meeting with her birthmother a few years ago.  I just felt like we  were eavesdropping on a too private moment.

David St Romain did a really good job with “Live Like You Were Dying” (as an aside - I’m SOOOOO tired of that song!)  I really wish he had gone with his first instinct (Travis Tritt’s “Anymore”).  The bridge is so well written, perfect for his voice, he would have killed.  But David did do something I was quite proud of.  He did a “cold” key change between the first verse and chorus; usually you don’t do that till you’ve sang the chorus a few times.  He deserves kudos for that, because it is extremely difficult.  He attempted some vocal acrobatics and the end, and missed the note.  Probably won’t cost him votes, though. Blake was a real smarta** in his comments; remind me not to buy his music anymore.

Angela.  Angela.  Angela Hacker.  I think I’ve finally figured out what is is about her.  She’s a good singer, not a spectacular one.  She’s pretty, but average in the “sexy” department.  Yet, make no mistake: when she’s onstage, you can’t take your eyes off her.  She’s got “it”.  Like her brother, she sings with a soul you can’t learn.  She’s a young Loretta Lynn.  Her life experience actually flows throughout her singing; it’s a sterotypical country resume: alcoholic father, no-good lowdown ex husband, raising a kid on her own, dirt poor trailer park upbringing.  She’s “old” (29) in comparison to the other contestants.  But, like I said, you can’t take your eyes off her.  She’s gonna be the Nashville Star (hope I didn’t jinx her)

Joshua Stevens was voted off (as expected).  He’s very good, but he’s not “there” yet.  He can’t carry a room.

Finally, Jewel has dressed quite conservatively since she let it be known that she didn’t like being known as the singer with big boobs.  But not last night.  She let the girls free!

Talk about not being able to take your eyes off of something…

But Jewel, I love you for your mind!