A Funny Thing Happened to Me On the Way to the Internet...

I have been writing on this post for a little over a month now. For some reason, I never could seem to finish it up. Well, today I made myself finish it, and I am going to try to write more often in the future because I think it helps me to feel better about my life, and myself.

The truth is, I just haven't felt like doing much of anything lately, including regular updates here at Athenamama. It's not that I am depressed or repressed or anything like that, at least I don't think I am, it's more because I have just been overwhelmed by life over the past several months. The things I have touched on here concerning my former marriage, the house I can no longer afford, and the operation I should probably have, all these loose ends that need unloosening, those sorts of things can wear a person out. After working all day I find myself wanting to do little more than feed the zoo, and then distracting myself with television or some light reading before I go to bed so I can rest up and do it all again the next day.

Anyway, the former wife dropped by not long ago to pick up a few more of her things for her new apartment. She moved out a while ago, but because we both expected the sale of our house to be a rather long, protracted affair, she didn't bother taking everything the day she left.

We talked for a little while; we get along very well these days, but then again we always have. We talked about the house, and at one point she mentioned how she didn't like coming here because it makes her a little sad. I said it has the same affect on me, and she looked a little surprised by that statement. She said, "But, this is your house!" I told her it really isn't, that it's more the bank's house than mine. What I didn't tell her is that when we bought it, it was our house, and since she left it has just become an empty, constant reminder of our failed marriage. It really should be no surprise I feel the same sadness she does, but she doesn't see things in the same light that I do. She doesn't understand that because I have to live in the house there really isn't any escape from that sadness for me.

If you were to ask her, my former wife would tell you she got off comparatively easy in the grand scheme of things. Last year, on the first Monday of October, she came to me said she no longer wanted to be married. She ultimately found an apartment, and then left. For me it's a bit more complicated. I need to endure the process of selling this house, which has included some rather unpleasant phone calls with the bank, and once that's all completed, I need to find a place to rent that will allow me to bring three cats and three dogs.

Not long after I put the house on the market we had what seemed to be a serious buyer. They made a bonafide offer, and my former wife and I signed the deal and accepted the offer. Then we all sat back and waited for the banks holding our first and second mortgages to give the all clear. Because this was to be a "short-sale", the buyers understood it could take time to finalize the deal, and they even planned for it a little by requesting a 45 day escrow. That escrow opened on Monday, April 14th. I had until May 28th to move, so I set about the arduous task of finding a place for me and my six cohorts.

Let me take a break from this little story to show you some pictures of the principle players in my life's drama. (After all, what sort of entry would it be without pet pictures?)

That's Mariah with Angel when he was a wee lad. Mariah is my stepson's dog, but he is going off to college this summer and can't take her with him. My wife and stepson have tried to find a home for Mariah, but haven't had much luck. When I got the news that I would have to move soon, I told them if I could find a place with a large enough yard, I would take Mariah with me. All I am asking is that they kick in for her care and feeding. Both have agreed to help me out with her financially, so it looks like Mariah will remain in the family.

Most of you know on first sight who this little trouble maker is; my little man Angel. There is no way I would part with Papa. No way. I have told the story of how Papa came into our life before, and in that tale I mentioned that I was against getting small dog when my former wife first showed signs of wanting one. I did what I could to discourage her. Look at me now.

There is no bigger daddy's girl in the world than Jacqueline. Like Athena, when I first met Jackie she walked right up to me and made me her new daddy. And like Angel, I cannot imagine life without her.

Before we were married, (of course,) the first time I met my former wife's kids, all three of them were out in the front yard of her house. When I got out of the car they all lined up behind the small block wall separating the yard from the sidewalk, and my wife introduced them to me one at a time. When I met Jazmine, my future step daughter, she was holding a black and white kitten. Jazmine's first words to me were, "You want to hold my kitten?" She held Salem out over the block wall so I could take her. Like Mariah, Salem will go with me when I move if no other arraignments can be made.

Ebby, grouchy as she is, holds a very special place in my heart. She was Athena's adopted kitten, and came to us one dark, frightful night after she had been chased around our neighborhood by a large white dog. Athena immediately took to her, and they were inseparable right up until Athena's death. I would no sooner give her up than any of the others.

Athletic, smart, very fast, and as beautiful as they come, Thali is the most conflicted of all my pets. She has a lot of energy, and wants to play, or chase down the occasional flying insect, but the other two cats want little to do with her. So, she plays with Angel and Jackie, stalking them and bringing them down at top speed like a cheetah taking a gazelle on the plains of the Serengeti, Thalia will chase behind her victim and take a swipe at their hind legs, tripping them up so she can pounce on them. It truly is an impressive sight, although the dogs seemed to be quite annoyed by the tactic.

Anyway, that's my group, and by all appearances I had a little under a month and a half to find some new digs for them and myself. I was very worried about how I would go about convincing someone that my pets wouldn't totally destroy their property. I searched through the local paper, and on Craig's List for prospective rentals, but most places won't accept pets, and those that do specify only one or two, and those need to be under twenty-five pounds.

Our location doesn't help much, either. Housing costs in this area are high and rent for a condominium over where we used to live would cost me around $1700.00 to $1800.00 or more a month. However, on my very first day of looking I found another condo in a different part of town that was going for $1695.00 a month. I called the owner, and left him a message telling him I was interested in the property. He called back, and while we chatted about the condo etc., I asked him how he felt about pets. He said he would consider pets depending on the number, and the size. I screwed up my courage, and told him about my situation. I played up my sad story; the wife left me with all of these animals, two of which were hers before we even met, and belonged to her children, the rest are all attached to one another as well as to me, and I just can't bear to part with any of them.

I am also quick to mention that as a soon-to-be former home owner myself I fully appreciate the value of property in this town, and the need for trustworthy and responsible tenants. I let my prospective landlords know I am aware of their concerns regarding possible damage to their property that could come at the paws of my pets, and reassure them that I have taken steps to prevent such behavior because I did once own my own home, and didn't want it destroyed by my pets, and that I am willing to pay a little more toward a security deposit, or sign a lease with a stipulation that I am liable should certain, well defined damages take place because of my pets.

The guy was pretty receptive, and told me to go ahead and drive by the condo and see if it was something I might be interested in renting. I was thrilled because before I had talked with this man I was seriously worried about not being able to find a place for me and the rest of my crew. But here on my very first try I had gained enough trust that the landlord was willing to at least entertain the idea of six pets on his property.

I drove out to the condo as soon as was able to, and it was better than I had anticipated. The backyard was larger than what we had at our condo, and it was also better shielded from other units and walkways in the complex. I was so excited about the place that I called the owner from my truck parked out on the street.

The owner told me he was glad I liked the place, but unfortunately he had already rented the condo to someone else. I was devastated. Perhaps I am naive, or maybe I read more into certain situations than I should, but I thought he and I had a gentelmen's agreement, and that was the only contingency preventing me from signing a lease was the formality of my inspecting the property first. When we spoke he had said, "Why don't you drive by the place and have a look. If you like it, give me a call and we will set up a time when we can meet and you can then see the inside of the place. If you still want to rent it after that, then we will work something out".

Yeah, maybe I do read more into what was said.

In any case, like I said, I was devastated. I went home and later that evening I received a call from my real estate agent. He called to let me know that the people who wanted to buy my house had changed their minds. My agent said he didn't have the full story, but they decided the house wasn't for them, and so they wanted out of the contract.

Out of the contract. Damn. Now I am back at square one. I am a little relieved that I no longer have to find a place for me and the animals, but that is only a temporary reprieve. Not to mention that now the banks know I no longer have a buyer on the hook, they will start calling again asking for payment. I owe them around $15,000.00 by this point, and every time they call I tell them there is no way in hell I am going to be able to come up with that kind of scratch. They threaten foreclosure, but that doesn't scare me at all anymore. I accepted my fate long ago, and there is no other weapon at the bank's disposal with which they can do me any more harm. I have their number in my phone's address book, and simply don't answer when they call. When I do mistakenly take their call, or if they call me at work, I politely tell them that trying to get money out of me is like squeezing a turnip and expecting blood. It ain't gonna happen. More often than not the person on the other end sympathizes, and some have even apologized for calling, saying it's their job to do so, and unfortunately the calls will continue.

So, for now my small menagerie and I are squatters. And until the banks say otherwise, or until someone comes along and buys this place, we will remain right here.

So, that brings you up to my current situation. I have received a few pieces of mail from the bank holding my first mortgage that seem to indicate they are ready to foreclose. I am going to speak with my real estate agent and ask him for advice. I just need to know how much time I have before I need to be out of here so that I can find a place for me and my pets.

Thalia is a Selling Point

Apparently the people who made an offer on my house are serious. I accepted the offer, and if the bank goes along with it then I guess the deal will go through. In any case, a 45 day escrow opens on Monday, so the buyers wanted to come by and check out the backyard and garage again.

I gathered up Angel and Jackie, and headed off to the barranca where we used to walk when we lived in our old condo.

While down in the barranca the dogs and I ran into two of my stepsons old friends from school. They both had been to the old house a few times, and the dogs haven't seen them since, but it was like old times as Angel and Jackie remembered both kids, and greeted them like old friends of their own.

I told the buyer's real estate agent to give me a call when they were through looking at the house so I could bring Angel and Jackie home. It's been hot out lately, and I didn't think my little dogs would want to take too long of a walk in the heat. The agent called, and said the people buying the house were very happy with the backyard etc., and they also wanted to know if Thalia came with the house!

Of course they were kidding, and of course I said no way; she's a precious possession, after all.

I think the buyer's honestly would take her if I allowed them to. Who wouldn't? They said she was not only beautiful, but very affectionate. She allowed them to pet her, and she showed them her appreciation by purring for them.

I have warned everyone who has visited the house that Thalia has a tendency to jump up on the shoulders of people, even complete strangers. She's very sociable, and loves most anyone who will let her sit on their lap. Out of all my pets, she is the most loving and playful, and I would be an idiot to let her out of my life.

Everything is Broken

Athenamama is apparently broken. I am having trouble with the backend of this site, such as not being notified of comments, not being able to access the comments on the backend, as well as various other glitches that all need my attention. I want to upgrade the software soon, but in doing so I will most likely have to pull the entire site and start from scratch. When I do that, I might just well wipe out the archives and start completely over. The site might still retain its basic look, but the past entries, (save for pet biographies, and maybe a few others,) will be gone. We'll see what happens when I finally get down to doing the work.

On the home front; I have an offer on my house, but that isn't exactly good news.

It is good from the standpoint that I need to get out of here since I haven't made any payments since January, and "the wolves are at the door", and it is good because once I am out, Jackie, Angel, Thali, Ebby, and I can all start living our new lives alone in a new place.

The bad part of all of this is the amount of work and stress I have to endure to get to the other side. The banks want a ton of paperwork out of me because I am selling my house short of what I paid. (Thanks, mortgage industry.) I need to find a place I can rent that will take me, my two dogs, and my two cats. I need to save the money to afford the down payment etc., for such a place, and once I do find it, will have to move again. I hate moving.

I also need to get to work on all that goes along with the break-up of my marriage. I am not looking forward to any of that, either. I do have a great relationship with my former wife, and she is cooperative and pleasant to work with, but that doesn't negate the sadness and stress of our situation.

It's tough around here, but nothing lasts forever, and better days are ahead. I don't know when I will get to working on the site; hopefully I will get to it this weekend, but I am aware that my already fitful approach to posting updates has gotten even more sporadic, and my pitiful readership is turning more dismal each week. But, hang in there with me, and I will try to get here more often, and maybe even have something interesting to say from time to time.

After all, life is full of changes, dontcha know?

Motherless Dogs

I have hinted around about the decline of my marriage here on good ol' Athenamama, but haven't spoken directly about it much. That's mainly because there isn't much to tell, and because I don't feel it would be all that interesting to anyone outside of our marriage.

However, two weeks ago my former wife moved out of our house, and so now Jackie, Angel and I are all on our own, (well, not exactly on our own. Mariah, Thalia, Salem, and Ebby are still in the house with me as is my eldest stepson, but other than that it's pretty desolate around here,) and I thought of this great title for a post so I decided to run with it.

We're getting along fine. I have taken the break-up of my marriage in stride; things like this happen, and the way I see it you can either role with the punches, or make your own life, and that of everyone around you, miserable. I have no animosity towards my former wife, and wish her no ill at all, and that not only makes her happy, but it makes me happy as well. It also makes for a smooth transition in the dynamics of our household.

As for Jackie and Angel, and the question of who will enjoy primary custody, I am happy to announce they will remain with their daddy. My former wife and I talked about it several months ago, and we decided that despite the fact that both of them came into our lives as pets for my wife, I have taken care of them, and bonded with them ever since they came to live with us, so our pack will remain intact. That also means the Official Angel and Jackie Webcam will continue to be on the air for many years to come.

In addition to Jackie and Angel, I also will be keeping Thalia and Ebby. Ebby came to us one night long ago as a stray, and she and Athena became very close. After Athena died, Ebby went into a sort of permanent state of grouchiness, but she still likes to occasionally spend time with me, so I haven't the heart to send her off to live with anyone else. Thalia of course is mine to begin with. Although I wasn't looking for another cat after Athena died, I did find Thali, and I love her dearly. I couldn't let her go anymore than I could Jackie and Angel, so she will stay with us as well, wherever we all end up.

Mariah and Salem belong to my stepson and stepdaughter respectively, and they will be responsible for where those two will live. It truly breaks my heart that I cannot take Mariah and Salem along with the rest of the pets, but I will have a hard enough time finding someone who will rent to a person with four animals already, much less six.

At some point my little menagerie and I will be moving into smaller digs, but for now we are having a great time adjusting to our new environment.

Please also check out all the other critters at Friday Ark at The Modulator.

Stupid Death

A friend of mine died last night. His name was Jon Becker, and he was one of the most intelligent people I have ever know. He had been struggling with liver cancer for the past few months of his life, and though he could have taken steps to prolong his life a little longer he chose instead to live out what time he had left doing the things he enjoyed.

I feel pretty terrible about Jon's passing because every week I would tell myself that I was going to go visit him over the weekend. It's what Jon wanted most I think, to spend time with those he considered his friends, and there really weren't too many people he felt that way towards. I know he did think of me as a friend, and I am truly honored that he thought so, but in the end I let him down, and I cannot remedy that, and I can't forgive myself for it either.

The reason I didn't see Jon as often as I wanted is out of pure selfishness; I couldn't stand to see him as sick as he was. For as long as I knew him, Jon was a strong, smart man who would never ask anyone for anything. Towards the end he started to become a little confused, and he could barely walk on his own. It broke my heart to see him that way, but I should have just sucked it up and gone over to spend time with him regardless of the effect it had on me.

Jon was one of the very few people who visited me when I was in the hospital. Not even my oldest, "best" friend of over 25 years came to see me, but Jon did, and I was surprised and overjoyed that he thought enough of me to come see me. And how do I repay that kindness?

Anyway, now he's gone, and I can't get the time back that I missed out on with one of the best people I have known in my life. I honestly thought Jon had more time, and though I tried every week to screw up enough courage to go see him, I just simply ran out of time.

I am sorry, Jon.

High Winds and Burning Embers

So, there I was just sitting around on my Sunday morning having just finished my Sunday paper, and all settled in for a rousing couple few hours of Mythbusters, when all of a sudden my world went black. Well, maybe not entirely black, but the television sure did blink out. And I mean that quite literally. It didn't exactly just turn off as all electrical gadgets do during a power outage, it just sort of blinked, and then slowly faded away like an American WWII general.

We have been struggling through our yearly high winds period here in Souther California, so a I had sort of been expecting a power outage. But it was the way the power went out that I found rather curious. Everything went off at first, the TV, the computer, the reading lamp I had been reading the paper by, but just after the power went off I looked up at my reading lamp and saw that the lights were dimly lit. I quickly got up and unplugged most every expensive electrical item in the house fearing a power surge. The winds on Sunday were very strong, and the power lines just behind our house were howling as the wind blew around them, so I thought for sure they had shorted against each other and would cause every appliance in the house to explode.

I waited a few minutes to see if the power would resume, but there was no improvement. The incandescent lights in the house were dim, but all florescent lights were completely out. None of our older television sets would even turn on, but the newer ones worked fine. The refrigerator motor was barely turning, but there was hardly enough light inside of it to see a casserole by. (Which isn't in itself an entirely bad thing.)

I figured that if the power was only "sort of out", that it most likely wasn't just going to get all better by itself, at least not any time soon, so I gave So. Cal. Ed. a call.

After working my way through the automated system, I finally found a real person who said she would send someone out. She said there were several areas that were experiencing power loss, so that it could be awhile before anyone would be able to come by. So, I waited, but as it turned out I got lucky. A truck from the electric company came out within an hour after I called, but that is where my luck ended.

I went out back with the two Edison guys and they looked over the utility pole that is just over the fence in our neighbor's backyard. One of the guys pointed at the transformer on the pole and said he thought a fuse had blown, and that is why I only had partial power. He said a crew would have to come out and replace the fuse, which isn't too tough of a job. Unfortunately, because of the winds the Edison company had their hands full with power related troubles all across the county. In other words, they had bigger fish to fry, so I was going to be low on the list of priorities.

The Edison guys left, and I spent the rest of the day sitting around with Jackie and Angel watching one of the televisions in the house that could work off of low power.

As we sat there in the semi-darkened room, I noticed it started getting even darker. I went outside to take a gander at the sky, and what I saw was pretty darned frightful The sun had been almost completely obscured by smoke. Malibu was on fire again, and the high winds had blown all the smoke into Ventura. It was almost as if the end of days had arrived, if you believe in such stuff.

I went back into the house and got my camera, and below are a few pictures that show how dense the smoke was.

As for the power, no one came to repair the fuse by the time I went to bed on Sunday. I woke up around midnight and noticed the night light in our bathroom wasn't on. I got up and attempted to switch on the lights, but they never came on. I went into the hall and tried the lights there, but again I got bupkis. The fuse finally burned itself out, and we were completely without power. The power wasn't restored until late Monday morning.

This is a view of our neighborhood as seen from our side gate. The palm trees are bending because of the strong wind, but you really can't tell from this shot just how strong those winds were.

This is a picture of the sky looking about 180° from the last picture. It looks like a storm cloud, but instead of rain or snow it brought with it a steady stream of falling ash. Soon the porch would be almost covered in black and white ash from the fire.

The sun as seen through the smoke. It's hard to get the colors right in such a picture; the sun appeared more blood red than seen in this shot.

Jackie and Angel followed me into the backyard, but I soon put them back into the house. There was so much ash you couldn't help but catch some in your eyes. When I saw Angel blinking a lot, I decided the great outdoors was not a place for two little doggies to be right now.

Another shot of the sun. This close-up shows the red I was talking about earlier. It was early afternoon when I took these pictures, and I assume because the sun was almost directly over head the sunlight had a tough time penetrating the smoke. It was dark outside, and the orange tint gave the neighborhood a surreal feel about it. As the sun started moving across the sky, and got lower relative to the horizon, it became brighter outside. I guess as the sun fell below the smoke the light was able to shine through better.

All this week we have been suffering through high winds and smoke. The Malibu fire was under control rather quickly, but there are still fires in the area that keep the skies filled with smoke. In San Diego it's even worse with somewhere around 1800 homes lost, and half a million people evacuated or homeless. Can you believe that? HALF A MILLION! I read in this morning's paper that the expected loss will be something like three times that of the fires we had four years ago what with 15 fires burning in seven counties in Southern California right now. If you remember the fire season of 2003 you understand just how significant that is.

I have lived in Ventura since 1966, and I have seen a number of fire seasons that have had devastating results. I can't remember a time that even comes close to the damage they are talking about today. I do remember a big fire in the early 1970s that ravaged the hills behind Ventura and filled the sky with smoke for a week, but while that looked bad, it was no where near what we are seeing now.

The Painted Cave fire in Santa Barbara that claimed 440 houses, 28 apartment complexes, and 30 other structures back in 1990 was considered a disaster, and rightly so, but with over half a million homes evacuated in San Diego county alone even that fire is dwarfed by the devastation that is happening right now.

The house we just bought is fairly close to the hills here in Ventura, and those hills are very dry right now, but so far there haven't been any significant fires near where we live.

For that I am thankful.

A Day at the Santa Barbara Zoo

I am not a big fan of Zoos. I understand that, like a lot of things, they may be a necessary evil in that they help protect endangered species, and also act as hospitals for wounded wild animals, but most every time I have visited the zoos in this state I walk away with the feeling that the animals are depressed. They just look so docile to me, and since I have never seen animals in the wild, I don't know if that is their natural state or not. In other words, maybe wild animals just look bored, what do I know?

It's the primates that really seem bored or depressed at the zoo. You can almost see the resentment in their eyes. You can certainly witness that resentment when they reach behind themselves, fill their hands with, er, well, you know, and then throw it at the nearest bystander. To me that is open defiance, and to tell you the truth if the tables were turned, I would probably do the same.

And it's not just the gorillas, monkeys, and chimps. They have the most expressive faces, so it's easier with them, but other intelligent animals, for instance the elephants, also have ways of showing their frustration. My dad tells a story about the elephants at the L.A. Zoo during a visit he and my mother took many years ago.He said the trainers were leading out the herd, and just like in the pictures you see of the circus elephants, the trunk of one was holding on to the tail of the guy in front of him. Well, one elephant was evidently a little grumpy that morning, and wasn't happy that he was being paraded in front of a bunch of humans first thing in the morning, so he stuck his trunk up the... um.. well, the rectum of the elephant in front of him, and when he pulled it out he sprayed the crowd with what he found up there!

So, I don't like zoos much, but my wife wanted to take our grandson up to see the animals at the Santa Barbara Zoo which is just north of where we live, so that's what we did. As much as I dislike zoos, I was glad I went because Josiah's reactions were priceless. At first he was almost in shock. Then, he kind of got used to the idea that all these animals were real, and that he was still safe. After that, he had a ball.

UPDATE: I originally got the name of the crooked neck giraffe wrong. Her name is Gemina, not Janine. I have since updated all references of her.

UPDATE: This from wikipedia: "One of the most popular animals at the Santa Barbara Zoo is the Giraffe with a neck deformity, Gemina. This Baringo Giraffe was born normally in the San Diego Wild Animal Park in 1986, but as she grew she developed a bend in her neck. The deformity does not cause her pain and is likely caused by a benign bone tumor in one of her joints or from an incident from her youth."

Meet Gemina, the crooked neck giraffe. Janine and I share something in common. She was born with a neck defect, but according to the zoo she is in great health, and in no apparent pain. I am quite sure this is true. Gemina has been a fixture at the zoo for many, many years, and every time I visit her, (and I make it a point to do so each time I go to the zoo,) she is just as rambunctious and happy as the rest of the herd. The giraffes always seem to be among the happiest of the animals at the zoo. I don't know if that is because they are stupid, or because they are allowed more interaction with the guests. You can feed these animals for a small fee. You buy some grain, and stand on a platform where the giraffes never seem to leave. Josiah was happy to just watch them from a distance. Me too.

One of the first animals you run across at the zoo is the elephants. The day we went they were just mulling around doing not much of anything. When we walked up to their pen with the baby, he just sort of looked at them in quiet awe. When we passed by later, he was much more interested, and so we went back to see the elephants again so that Josiah could get a better look. By that time we were taking him out of his stroller, and holding him up so that he could stand on the fence of the various animal pens while we supported him just for the purpose of a better view of things.

I think this lion is quite old, and he is one of the animals I always feel bad for whenever I visit the Santa Barbara Zoo. I am sure the zoo takes good care of him,and I don't know his history, so maybe he was injured at some point, or was a circus performer that was no longer young enough to perform, but he always seems so sad when I have seen him.

At least now he has a larger enclosure. He once was caged in what appeared to be a very small area. Now at least he has enough room to roam about a bit. He is also quite obviously a male lion, and as we all know they let the females do all of the hunting etc., so perhaps lying around all day with his back to the world is the way lions behave in their natural habitat. Who am I to judge?

I was trying to capture the look on this guy's face when I took this picture, but I don't think I succeeded. It was a look of contempt. Again, maybe that is how he displays his dominance in the wild to other gorillas, but soon after this shot the crowd surrounding the enclosure all backed away very quickly. Know why? The gorilla was locked and loaded, are ready to fling feces at the first person he thought he could hit. I wonder if Jane Goodall ever had that problem?

Josiah was a little afraid of the gorillas. He looked at them, looked at me, made a small noise, and then patted his heart. He pats his heart when he is afraid or distressed. It's the cutest damn thing.

One of the few species that can't be kept down by the man; the penguins were having a ball. You can see them from two different vantage points; underwater, or above water. People feed them fish from above water treating us below the water with a real show.

This little dude was pretty quick in the water. The turtle tank was pretty impressive in general, but the underwater view was pretty spectacular. For a turtle tank, that is.

So, that pretty much covers our trip to the Santa Barbara Zoo. There is a lot of uphill walking at that place, but there are also plenty of opportunities to sit and enjoy the scenery, so we were able to stay longer than I originally thought we would. I was encouraged by the new digs a lot of the animals have had build for them since my last visit, and I walked away with less of a bad taste than I have in the past, so I guess all in all, it was a pretty good experience.

Once we got home, Josiah found a blanket my wife bought for him a few weeks back that has zoo animals on it. He pointed to the different animals, and mimicked their sounds or actions. It was one of the cutest things I have ever seen.

I have said before that I never wanted children, and that I am still sure that I made the right decision in that regard, but I am also very happy to have Josiah in my life. He's the boy I never had.

Jackie and Angel have taken this week off so that I could write about the zoo. Hopefully they will be back next week with more of their wild and wacky adventures. Until then, please see more dogs over at the Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings, and don't forget the Friday Ark at The Modulator for all sorts of critters. (Where ya gonna put this entry, Steve?)

Autographs

Not long ago I thought it might be fun to write James Gandolfini, also known as Tony Soprano of HBO's The Sopranos, and ask him for an autographed picture. At the time of this writing, I have not heard back from him. But, I have not lost hope. I have heard that Mr. Gandolfini is a very nice man who does in fact sign autographs for his fans. It just takes some time is all. I am sure at some point he will sign an 8 X 10 glossy for me, and mail it back in the self addressed stamped envelope I provided just for that reason.

I am confident he will one day write back because other actors from The Sopranos already have done just that. For instance, Frank Vincent, who played Phil Leotardo, the man who tried to have Tony clipped at the very end of the show sent me his autographed picture. But that one doesn't count because Mr. Vincent sells his autograph off of his website, so he contractually bond to send one when you include seventeen dollars along with your request. But that is fine with me.

Mr. Vincent by all accounts is a very pleasant man, and I didn't think the price was too steep, so I paid it. It wasn't two weeks later that the autographed photograph arrived, but unfortunately he didn't personalize it as I had asked when I bought it. There was a note included with the picture that said he would have been happy to have personalized the picture for me, but that he was out of town when my order was processed. I wondered, why not wait until he returned so that he could personalize it for me, but that's for them to know, and me to find out, I guess.

My next shot was at Vince Curatola, who played John Sacramoni on The Sopranos. Mr. Curatola also has a website, but he doesn't offer his autograph for sale there. Instead I wrote him at the e-mail address I found there, and asked him if he would be so kind as to autograph a picture for me. He personally e-mailed me back, and said he would be happy to, just send a self addressed envelope to such-and-such address, and he would get one back in the mail to me. Which is exactly what he did.

I think I want to next ask Sir Roger Moore for his autograph. Sir Roger played James Bond from 1973, (Live and Let Die,) until 1985, (A View to a Kill). I have a friend or two who might disagree, but I think Sir Roger was the BEST James Bond ever. For some reason his smug delivery, and dry wit just screamed 007 for me. Everyone has an opinion about who has played Bond best, and in my opinion that actor would be Sir Roger.

My wife and friends have been telling me to shoot a little higher, and bag a big star like say, De Niro, or Pacino, and perhaps one day I will, but for now I am happy with the ones I have asked for.

It's kind of fun, asking for, and receiving autographs of those few celebrities I admire. I just wish I was able to get what would be for me the Holy Grail of autographs; that of Walt Disney. Sure, I could buy one at $1500.00 plus, or someone out there who would like to show me a little kindness could buy one for me. But, it's somehow more exciting when the celebrity is alive. It feels more gratifying because they are, for one small moment, paying attention to you. It's a nice feeling, silly as it is. And while I understand autographs are always worth more if they are not personalized with the recipient's name, I will always ask for an inscription just because it does feel more personal.

So, there you go. Another silly thing I do with my time.

By the way, if you are thinking of writing a celebrity yourself, and would like to know everything from where to write them, how you should compose your letter, and even find out if they will reply at all, go here.

The Story of Our Front Yard

We recently decided much of the flora in our front yard needs to go. Apparently one of the former owners of our house thought bark would make for a nice ground cover in the flower beds around the front yard, and I am sure in 1974, when the bark was new and a nice dark rust color, it did. Unfortunately, what probably started out as a lovely piece of landscaping has degraded into a gray and brown eye sore that harbors tiny critters, looks more like dog feces than bark, and has migrated all throughout the yard.

It has to go.

Being that my back isn't what it once was, we hired the job out. We told the two man crew that we wanted everything that wasn't grass, (or a twisted juniper,) gone. As they started their work my wife mentioned to me that she would like a few pictures of the front yard so that we could have a record of what the place looked like "before" we had everything taken out. Always one to oblige, I quickly located my camera and took a few quick shots.

Now we have a clean slate, but no idea what to do with it. Ebby has a few ideas, but I don't think turning the whole front yard into one gigantic kitty litter box would please the neighbors.

Charles Lane

You may not recognize his name, but how can you not recognize his face?

The man was in so many television shows and movies it's hard to count them all. Still, I bet you didn't even know his name until today.

His son Tom said, "He was lying in bed with his eyes real wide open. Then, he closed his eyes, and stopped breathing."

We should all go that way.

Debit Card Blues

As you might have noticed, there wasn't a post last week of any sort. I didn't even bother with the weekly Adventures of Jackie and Angel post, and for the millions thousands hundreds few of you who have grown accustomed to reading about our two favorite pups every week, I apologize. It's just that, last week I was kind of busy, and what I was busy with left me in a foul mood for most of the week. With that large of a gray cloud over my head I found it difficult to employ my rather light and witty approach to writing that has earned me the adoration of millions thousands hundreds a few loyal readers.

What happened is, late Monday evening of last week, as I prepared to go to bed, I received a phone call on my cellphone that I ignored, and didn't answer. Usually when it is that late, (and we are talking not even 9 o'clock yet. I am an "early to bed, early to rise" sort of guy,) I just don't answer the phone. If you had to wait until bedtime to call, then you can wait until tomorrow morning to get an answer.

Anyway, I didn't take the call, but I looked at the phone number that my phone recorded in it's "received calls" folder, and I was puzzled by the phone number I saw there. Intrigued, I called my voice-mail. The caller said they represented some company-or-another, and that they wanted to verify some "activity" on my debit card. I have received such calls before, and usually it's because I have made an unusually large purchase, and the card company or bank that holds the card wants to make sure that I am indeed the guy making the purchase. I figured the reason they called was because earlier that day I had called Disneyland and ordered another one of the Olszewski miniature sculptures of Disneyland. (When it arrives I will take pictures and post them here. It's the Main Street, Disneyland Railroad Station, and it is AWESOME!)

So, I called the company so that I could tell them the good news. A woman answered, and explained again that there had been some "suspicious activity" on my debit card, and that they just wanted to verify that I had in fact made the purchase(s). I said OK fully expecting her to read off the purchase I had made from Disneyland, but what she said first took me by surprise. She said, "OK, first we have a purchase made at the Babies R Us store in the amount of $1123.27."

My little brain became instantly confused, and muddled.

I tried to think, faltered, tried again, faltered again, and than just like an old Mercury, finally I started firing on all cylinders.

"Wait, what did you say?" I said.

"I asked if you had made a purchase at Babies R US". Said the disembodied phone voice.

"Uh, no." I replied. "No, I didn't... HOW MUCH?!?"

"O-n-e t-h-o-u-s-a-n-d..."

"No." I interrupted."I understand what you said. Where there any others?"

"Yes" she said. "Did you make any purchases at Kohl's in Ontario?

"NO" I shouted unintentionally "I HATE that lousy store. How much did they spend there?

"Well," the lady hesitated,"apparently they spent $827.31 at the first store..."

"The FIRST store?!" I said,

"Yes", came the reply. "They spent $827.31 at the Kohl's in Ontario, and then another $123.24 at the Kohl's in Fontana."

"SHIT!" I exclaimed. "Is that all?" I inquired.

"Yes sir, It appears that is all."

As if that weren't enough, I thought. The woman on the phone went on to tell me that since they used my debit card the money most likely hadn't left my account yet. She said she would put an immediate hold on our debit cards since they couldn't tell whether the card information that had been compromised was mine or my wife's, and that she would also send a message to our bank informing them of what was going on. She told me I would need to call my bank in the morning to put a stop to the payments to the stores, and thereby keep the money in my account.

Still somewhat shocked by what had just happened, I said thank you, and hung up.

I explained the whole affair to my wife as soon as I got off the phone. We pondered how someone was able to snake our debit card information. We had only two cards, and we never let anyone else use them. There were no duplicates, and we properly destroyed the old ones when the new ones came in the mail. We soon came to the realization that it really didn't matter how it happened, the fact of the matter was it did happen, and now we would have to deal with it.

The next morning I called the bank and explained what happened. The bank representative, was a very nice and helpful young lady by the name of Lindsay. Lindsay also told me what we would have to do to recoup our money. I had already checked my balance by then and knew that the money had not yet been disbursed to the retailers. I shared this information with Lindsay, but she said it didn't really matter, that the bank was obligated to pay the retailers the money regardless of the fact that the account was fraudulently accessed. Once I thought about it, it made sense. Regardless of who used my account information, the fact is when they made that purchase using my debit card information the bank automatically approves the purchase at the point of sale. Essentially the bank had already approved the purchases at the three different stores involved, and that approval is also a promise to pay. When it is discovered that the purchases were made illegally, then it falls on me as the person responsible for the account, (and who has been, in effect, robbed,) to call the police and make a police report.

The bank required a copy of my police report, and also asked that I fill out another sworn statement that they had prepared. The bank representative that helped me this time was also a notary public, and that was a good thing because my statement needed to be notarized.

After I jumped through a few hoops, and after 24 hours had passed, all of our money, plus any fees we might have encountered, such as overdrafts etc., had been refunded to us.

It turned out well, as I knew it would all along, it's just stressful to discover that someone has taken part of your identity and used it for nefarious purposes. It's such an invasion into our private lives, my wife's and mine, and it made us feel vulnerable in a world where we once felt comfortable and secure. It bothered us both a great deal that someone had somehow gotten a hold of my debit card information! (It turned out to be my card number and pin number the thieves were using.) We pondered the idea that someone at a convenience store or gas station, standing behind me in line at the cash register perhaps quickly memorized the 16 digit card number, and then watched as I keyed in my pin number. It may sound incredible that someone would be able to memorize twenty digits like that, and later recall them in the proper order so that they could use them to buy a thousand dollars worth of diapers for their baby, but there is no doubt in my mind that there are people who have such talents, and who use them in such an illegal manner as what happened to me.

That is why I never got around to posting anything last week. I was too busy meeting with the police, and running to the bank in an effort to help them catch the crooks that stole my money, and at the same time get my money back into my account where it belongs. I guess looking back on it, the time I spent doing those things was minimal, and really didn't have a real impact on my time in terms of writing up a decent blog entry. But it was an emotionally charged event, and left me, as I mentioned before, in a mood that was anything but conducive to great good inspired blog-level writing.

Hopefully they will catch the scum that stole our money. They deserve whatever punishment is appropriate for such crimes, and it would make me feel better knowing their lives might be put on hold for the trouble and gloom that they caused me.

It was bad enough that we almost lost a significant amount of money, and that the situation put such a pall on our week in general, but what made the whole situation even that much more worse was the fact that I had just deposited a check for $2100.00 into our account that very morning. We had paid too much into our property tax impound account, and received the refund check in the mail the Saturday before. The check came as a surprise, and we were of course very happy to get it. Them some crook comes along and spoils everything.

In the end, we got our money back, and while that is good news I am also happy to report that the gloomy mood was only temporary. I have a new debit card, complete with new number and pin number, and hopefully Kohl's and Babies R Us have security cameras. I have my money back, and hopefully the crooks will have nice new portraits to show the judge.

To hear the perps are behind bars would really make my day.

What am I Obsessed?

I cannot tell you why I have such an affinity for Disneyland, (the one in Anaheim, California,) but I can tell you when it started.

It all started when I was eight years old, and my parent's took my brother, sister, and me to Disneyland. If my parents can be believed, we had all been before, but to tell you the truth, I really cannot remember any trip there before I was eight or so. I reckon the reason I started to really dig on Disneyland by eight years old is because I started to put it together that the man who built the place was the same genius that made Sunday nights my favorite night for television, and was also responsible for some of my favorite movies as well. There was something about the stuff that Walt Disney produced that touched me in some odd, intangible way that no other entertainer, not even the Disney of today, is capable of.

So, I imagine for those reason, and because I tie Disneyland with some of the happiest times of my childhood, that I wax nostalgia about the place and how it once was. It really was a magical place back in the sixties, and it really was the happiest place on earth. Back then, when Walt Disney's touch was still ingrained into everything inside the park, the attractions were more than state of the art, they were almost mystifying. They were certainly mystifying to a young mind such as my own. Walt Disney was able to create things like robots that looked and sounded more human than anything else at the time. Even today the Audio-Animatronics, which is the registered trademark for the robotics created by Walt Disney's Imagineerings for the attractions at Disneyland, that Walt Disney created in the sixties are still the best thing going in any amusement park in the world.

When I was a kid, the stuff I saw at Disneyland blew my little mind. In the course of a day I was treated with ghosts, travailing the high seas with pirates, riding a river boat like the ones that Mark Twain wrote about, listening to, and WATCHING Abraham Lincoln as he gave a speech, and I could even be shrunken down to the size of a nucleus of an atom. It was better than a movie because I actually could experience these marvelous things first hand.

Disneyland was a safe, fun place to go and forget about all your troubles, even for a little kid. There were no teachers, no textbooks, no chores, no bullies, none of the rotten stuff that goes with everyday life, and that stood between me and a good time. It's no wonder then that I would want to bring a piece of it home with me after it all ended way too soon.

I remember each family trip to Disneyland from the age of eight on, and how quickly it seemed time passed while I was there. It was almost as if time acted differently inside of Disneyland than anywhere else in the world. The only worry I had in the world while I was there was I had to pack as much fun as I could into my day before it all ended, and that meant not wasting time shopping for stuff when I could be on some ride having the time of my eight year-old life.

It wasn't until I was much older, fifteen to be exact, that I discovered the notion of enhancing my memories of an event by anchoring them to some fifty-cent item I could buy at that event. So, when my dad said it was time to go after a family trip to Disneyland in the fall of 1975, I just had to get to a souvenir shop and grab something to take home. What I got was, in my mind, the perfect item to forever remind me of Disneyland, and the great memories I made there with those that I loved. And, it was even LESS than fifty cents! It was a twenty-five cent map of the entire park.

When I got that map home the first thing I did was tack it to my wall. I was careful to place the tacks as close to the edge as I could because I wanted it to last forever. At first I didn't even put tacks in the bottom corners because I wanted to minimize the damage as much as possible, but the map was printed on fairly thick stock, and even the mildest gust, such as that generated by a swinging bedroom door, was enough to tear the map from it's tiny moorings. I eventually secured the map sufficiently enough by the strategic placement of tacks in each corner that it didn't pull away from the wall anymore.

In 1991 I had my map professionally framed, and today that same twenty five cent map hangs in a place of honor over my fireplace.

Right next to my album, "The Story and Song from the Haunted Mansion," an earlier attempt of mine to bring home the magic of Disneyland.

It cost me two-hundred dollars to have my map framed, but it was worth every red cent. My map, (and the original receipt,) is safely protected from dust and light in an acid-free, archival quality frame, and is up on my wall for my enjoyment whenever I please. I often look at my map, and remember not only the trip when I bought it, but subsequent trips with family and friends, and all the fun we had.

After that trip I started to go to Disneyland occasionally without my folks. After a while, the feelings I got when I would go to the park sort of wore away, much like the excitement of Christmas does for many people. I still would enjoy going, and even though I resent what has happened to the park over the years, (especially to the parking lot after they tore it out to make way for "Disney's California Adventure",) I still like to go, and it is still the recreational destination I most like to attend. But, I find myself turning to my treasures of time past in an effort to stir those childhood feelings of anticipation, excitement, and wonder that have become oh so elusive.

I bought other maps during other trips to Disneyland, and Now I even buy sculptures of the park's architecture. I imagine one day I will have a complete replica of Disneyland inside my house! It will just be in miniature, is all.

Drat.

Tupperware and YOU!

I think I may have mentioned earlier that my wife has been selling Tupperware. I have to admit at first I was a bit leery of the idea because I thought Tupperware was one of those things that you bought once, and never had to replace ever again. That would mean no return customers, and therefore sales would eventually dry up. But, my wife is an amazing person, and already she has made way more money than I ever would have expected. And, she is getting a lot of repeat business, and the reason for that is because Tupperware has a lot of other cool items for sale other than the typical burping bowls.

So, if you are looking for some Tupperware for yourself, or maybe your wonderfully deserving mother, (remember, mother's day is approaching,) then take a gander at my side bar to the right, and click on the retro looking Tupperware button. It will take you straight to my wife's Tupperware site where you can browse, and buy Tupperware to your little heart's content. If you are really daring, you might even consider selling a little Tupperware yourself. If so, I am reasonably sure there is some information on my wife's site about how you, too can become a Tupperware consultant.

And now we return to our regularly scheduled blogging.

My Own Private Haunted Mansion

There's a chain of stores known as CompUSA that at one point was about the only place where you could go to get parts for your computer. Those of us in the know wouldn't set foot in the place because the prices were out of sight, and the staff didn't know squat about the product they were selling.

Recently Fry's opened just a few blocks away from CompUSA, and Fry's usually sells it's stuff at some pretty reasonable prices. In fact, I just bought a remote control mini helicopter from Fry's that is so much fun, I just can't put it down! Fry's is killing CompUSA, and so CompUSA is closing it's doors for good very soon. In fact, sooner than they advertised it seems.

Well, my wife has started selling Tupperware, (there will be a link very soon over to the right, and you WILL buy Tupperware!,) and she wanted her own, separate computer to do that with, so I put together a pretty nice 400mhz PII. I went to my favorite thrift store and found a BRAND NEW Compaq 17" flat-screen CRT monitor for $29.99! It even came with two speakers! It had not ever even been taken out of the box. I also picked up a decent keyboard and mouse, both for under five dollars. I scored.

I needed a wireless networking card for this rig, so I went to CompUSA because they were selling the stock on hand for 10% to 30% off, but when I got there everything was 20% to 40% off! I got her card for a song, and while I was there I picked up one of those new-fangled "digital frames", which essentially is a small monitor in a frame that acts as a slide show for your digital pictures. I had a clear idea of what I would do with one should I ever buy one, and the picture below will give you some idea of what that is...

For those of you who don't recognize that picture for what it is, (and you should be ASHAMED of yourself,) it is one of the "changing portraits" that can be found in the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. I have written before about my Disneyland obsession, and my very strong affinity for the Haunted Mansion, and so with my new digital frame I was able to place pictures of two of the five changing portraits into it, add the eerie music that plays in the background of that part of the attraction, and now I have my very own miniature section of the ride I love so much!

Clever me.

Thrift Store Treasures: More Old School Electronics

A few weeks back I went to one of our favorite thrift stores and found a great reel-to-reel tape recorder. This weekend I went back, again looking for a decent VHS player/recorder to use with my computer so I can transfer some of my old video tapes to DVD. I actually found a pretty good one, too, but on the lower shelf I saw a case for a Panasonic OmniMovie video camera. I opened it, and to my surprise there was a Panasonic PV-950 camcorder inside, and it was complete with battery, battery charger, light, strap, video hookups, and even the owner's manual! They wanted $24.99 for this baby, so I walked it over to the nearest power supply, popped in a tape from the video tape section of the store, and gave it a test drive.

It worked flawlessly.

I left the player I was considering, (I couldn't justify both in my own mind, but now I wished I had,) and took my new treasure right up to the cashier, and paid for it.

On my way home I stopped off and bought four new VHS tapes for it. Once back at the house, I set it all up with one of the fresh tapes, and started recording the antics of Jackie and Angel. It was a riot how they reacted. Angel growled at the camera, and barked a few times, and Jackie came right up to the lens and gave it a good sniff. After a minute or so I ejected the tape, and put it in the VHS VCR we use with the television in my living room. (In case you are wondering, I am less than impressed with the quality of that VCR, and that is why I don't use it to transfer my tapes to the computer.)

If I thought video taping Angel was a riot, then watching him watch himself on TV was an out and out mayhem! He was growling and barking, and all the while his little fluffy tail was wagging so hard I won't have to dust that room for a month!

The battery that came with it of course won't hold a charge. I figured that when I bought it, but I also was confident I can get a replacement battery, which I just bought off of eBay. Unfortunately, the battery cost as much as the camera, but after a little digging I found a camera just like it sold on eBay back in December for FOUR TIMES what I paid at the thrift store.

I love thrift store shopping!

Shrek Ain't Got Nothing On Me

Because of the medications I take, I must see my doctor every month. They just don't write prescriptions for narcotics with three refills like most other meds. The prescription documents are as complicated as currency to thwart would-be counterfeiters, and copies are distributed to the DEA so that each pill can be accounted for. It's really serious stuff. And if I lose my pills, or they somehow get damaged or wet, or if a lightning bolt comes from the sky and reduces them to worthless ash, that's just too bad for me until my thirty days are up, and I can get a new prescription.

But, that's not really the point of today's post. The point is, today I went to see my doctor because it was time for my monthly prescription, and while I was there I had my ears cleaned. We usually discuss my chronic pain troubles, but today I also mentioned to her that I was having difficulty hearing because my ears were ringing very loud. I knew why they were ringing, I had a large buildup of earwax, and I wanted to know if her nurse would have time to flush them out for me.

If you have never had your ears cleaned by a professional, I seriously recommend you try it. It is one of the most pleasant sensations I have ever experienced. The nurse first puts a few drops of a liquid that loosens the wax in your ear, and then she fills a syringe that is maybe six inches long, and about an inch in diameter with a combination of lukewarm water, and hydrogen peroxide. The tip of the syringe is maybe an inch or so long, and has a 45° bend. The nurse will ask you to hold a bowl under your ear, and then she will flush out the wax with the contents of the syringe.

The solution comes out with a fair amount of force, and is warm so it feels good as it flushes out your ear. I cannot tell you how wonderful it feels! It is like being scratched in a place that is impossible to reach on your own, only better. And once it is over, no more ringing, and very much improved hearing.

The only drawbacks to the procedure, at least for me, was while the nurse flushed my left ear I felt the back of my left eye get a small chill. That was a creepy feeling, but it didn't last long. The other side effect was a little worse, but also short lived. It was vertigo. I guess all that rushing water throws off your sense of balance because the nurse told me he did the procedure for his sister once, and she felt the same sort of dizziness.

If you have a wax problem with your ears, then call your physician and set up an appointment to get your ears cleaned. I am telling you it is something EVERYONE should experience at least once in their life.

Oh, and be sure to ask the nurse to let you see the contents of the bowl when she is done. You won't believe how much wax they can remove with this procedure. It's like earwax soup!

Thrift Store Treasures: Old School Electronics

Yesterday I headed on over to our favorite thrift store to see if I could find a decent VCR. Believe it or not, the old, heavy VCRs are much better than the cheap, crappy plastic ones available today. That is, if you can even find one today. There has been a serious decline in the choices of VCRs since the advent of DVDs, and even less choices since recordable DVDs.

I want a VCR because I have some old VCR tapes that I would like to transfer to DVD. I have been working on several VCR to DVD projects on my computer, and have gotten pretty good at making some slick little productions, but the VCR I have been using to transfer the tapes finally gave up the ghost.

I used to see a lot of old VCRs on eBay, but now it seems I can't even find a decent one there, and when I do find one I like the seller wants my first born as payment for shipping and, *ahem* "handling". Bastards. So I figured the best place to find a VCR capable of my needs would be the trusty thrift store.

Once a great place to find old VCRs, the first thrift store on my list had, get this, not a single one. I couldn't believe it. They used to have the damn things stacked to the rafters, but when I needed one they have bubkis. So, I decided to cross the street to my second favorite thrift store. Surely they would have one, right?

I headed straight to the back pushing my way through the goth kids and the homeless all there looking for some new threads, and to my disappointment, the VCR department of this thrift store also had nothing. They did have a couple of VCRs, but they were mono, and very lame brands, so I figured my trip was a bust.

I was about to leave when I glanced once more across the home electronics shelves and my eyes spotted a Sony TC-440 reel to reel tape recorder/player. I couldn't believe my eyes. I have been looking for a decent reel to reel for years, but have not been able to find anything in working condition, and at a reasonable price. I had seen one or two in the very thrift store where I found this one, but the guy who prices the electronics for this particular store always overprices everything. But the price of this unit was a very reasonable $34.99!

I took a closer look, and the while the cabinet had a few chips off a corner or two, and there was some sort of sticky substance of the sides of the machine, it was in fantastic shape. And, as luck would have it, it had a reel of tape and a take up reel on it, so I could test it. There was no way to hook it up to a set of speakers because I would need a tuner for that, but I could look at the Level indicators and see if it was at least generating a signal. That is, if the tape had anything on it.

I plugged it in, and pressed play. I looked at the level indicators and got nothing. I rewound the tape, which it did rather quickly, so I knew the motors were OK, and pressed play again. Still, nothing. Then I noticed the monitor switches were set to "Source" instead of "Tape", so I flicked them to the correct position, and watched as the level indicators jumped to life. By now I knew this recorder was coming home with me.

While I fiddled with my new find, a man and woman walked up behind me and I heard the man say "Someone got the reel to reel to work", and that was enough for me to unplug it, and take it up front to pay for it.

Anytime you buy something like this from a thrift store you are doing so on an "As is" basis. I knew I was risking my $35.00, but I was reasonably sure this machine was in working condition. if it wasn't, my father still owns his Sony reel to reel that he bought when he was a kid, and he knows how to fix them. Dad is a great guy, he would help me out if I needed him to.

As soon as I got home, I temporarily hooked up my new reel to reel and pressed play. I watched the level indicators come to life, and instantly heard the worst, twangy country music I have ever heard. It was music to my ears. So to speak. I tested every aspect of my reel to reel, and while the play buttons need more than usual pressure to stay in the play position, and the rewind and fast forward buttons need coaxing up after they have been told to stop, it actually works very well. It even records great!

The Sony TC-440 was a great machine in it's day. It plays and records in both directions, so you can leave your tape on the machine rather than flip it over to play the other side. Sony made great tape players in the 60s and 70s, and even today they can demand big bucks for the right machine. I looked up mine on eBay and found one that had been restored that sold for $250.00! Others sold for $60.00 or more, so add to that at least $30.00 for shipping, (these thins weigh as much as a Volkswagen,) and I would say I made a great deal.

There is something about watching music play from a reel to reel tape player, or even a phonograph, that is lost when you play a CD, or listen to an iPod. With a reel to reel you can see the process, You can see the tape turning, and the level indicators jumping, and with a phonograph you can see the turntable turn, and watch the needle gently ride up and down through the groove of a record.

That is why I still enjoy these analog systems more than today's digital wonders. I pity kids today who know nothing else other than their CDs and their iPod, but from what I have seen it is probably for the best. Kids today can't even keep a CD from being destroyed by scratches soon after they purchase them. Could you image what they would do with vinyl?

Me and My Old Telephone

Among those who know me, one thing is clear about my personality. I tend to live in the past. At least that is their point of view. My point of view is that I value nostalgia.

I like TV shows that were popular when I was young, such as All in the Family, Barney Miller, and WKRP in Cincinnati. All of these shows premiered in the 1970s, (All in the Family 1971, Barney Miller 1975, and WKRP in Cincinnati 1978,) and while I do enjoy reminiscing over the more pleasant times I had during that decade, I also look back fondly on the 1960s, 1980s, and 1990s. Sure, there were some bad times in my life just like anyone else's, especially during the 70s when I was in junior high and high school. I wasn't the most popular nerd kid in school, and sometimes I paid for that in the currency of humiliation through the taunts of my peers, but we all have rough times in our past, that doesn't mean all of our past should be shoved under some emotional carpet in the dark recesses of our minds.

But, I am getting away from what I wanted to write about. Let's just say my point is, I enjoy looking back on the events of my life that were enjoyable to me, and there are things from my past that I hold on to simply because they remind me of those times.

I also enjoy old things in general. I am sort of a history buff, and as I grow older I find my affinity for old things and for history in general also grows. For instance, when I was in school I never cared much for the subject of World War II. Now, I can't get enough of that topic. My favorite channel on television is the History Channel, also known as the "WWII Channel". There is a ton of info concerning the war on the History Channel, and I look through the listings daily for stuff to Tivo.

I also read more about the war than I used to. I am currently reading Hitler: 1889-1936 Hubris by Ian Kershaw, the first of a two volume biography of one of the world's most monstrous murderers. Hitler is no doubt one of the most nefarious characters to ever come down the pike, but he is also one of the most fascinating. Kershaw not only discusses Hitler's life, but also goes into great detail about the political and social atmosphere of Germany during Hitler's life. It is probably the most comprehensive, and accurate biography of the man who is responsible for starting the greatest conflict of our time.

On the lighter side of history I enjoy the radio programs that were aired in the 1930s, 40s, and 50s, such as Jack Benny, Fibber McGee and Molly , Our Miss Brooks, and X Minus One. So many radio shows were so much better than what even modern television has to offer. I can look through my relatively small selection of 150 television channels at almost any time of the day, and find nothing that interests me. On the other hand I can randomly chose any one of the thousands of radio mp3 recordings I have on my computer, and be entertained for thirty minutes to an hour without fail.

Some people might be afflicted with chronic nostalgia much as I am, and might say that they were born in the wrong decade, or century. I wouldn't say that about myself. I can't imagine what era I would like to have been born in if I had the opportunity to chose, because there are so many great times to have lived in, each with their own unique style or set of events. I guess that is why I just like the past in general; you can find something fascinating from almost every part of recorded human history.

I guess along with loving the past comes an affinity for antiques, and I think in my case my love of antiques also comes from my interest in time in general. There are so many things from the past that have survived through the ages. I love going to the Getty Museum here in California, and just losing myself in the varieties of Roman sculptures on display there. When I look at a sculpture I think of the person who created it, all the people who have enjoyed them since, and wonder of the events the sculpture has witnessed. It's almost like being in my own special time machine. Or maybe I am just crazy, I don't know.

One of my favorite old things to collect is much more affordable, and in some ways even more mysterious than ancient sculptures; coins. I LOVE old coins! I have a very modest collection of coins dating back to the Romans, but mainly it consists of coins from the 19th and 20th centuries. The reason I like old coins is because they could have been owned by anyone. For instance, I have a 1859 "Seated Liberty" US silver dollar. That coin could have been in Lincoln's pocket! He could have been rolling that very coin over his knuckles while debating war strategy, or who knows, maybe he tossed this very coin when deciding whether or not to free the slaves!

OK, maybe not, but you get my point. Coins are the sort of things that pass through time and can literally be in the possession of anyone. I think that's pretty cool.

I said all that to get to the next few of pictures. These pictures are of my phone. I found it at a thrift store a few years ago, and when I bought it I took it straight home and plugged it in. To my delight, it works, but it doesn't ring. That makes it rough when trying to figure out if someone is calling me or not. But, that's OK because I don't really use it any more since I have my cell phone.

We didn't have a phone like this at my house when I was a kid. We did have a newer model dial telephone, but the one in the pictures below was the type my grandmother had. I bought the phone because it reminded me of my grandmothers. It also was a great price. Thirty bucks!

So there is one of my little treasures that ties me to the past. My grandson was over not long ago and was very interested in this phone. Do you know he picked up the receiver and started dialing it all on his own? He is 16 months old and has only seen cellphones before!

I guess it isn't all that surprising. His mother had a telephone glued to her head all through her teens. Literally.

Wagon Wheel Motel and Restaurant

I have been wanting to write this post up for quite some time, but kept putting it off for one reason or another. Today I sat me down and made me stay at the keyboard until I was finished. Too bad I wasn’t as good a disciplinarian with myself back when I was in school. I probably would have had a job I enjoyed a hell of a lot more. But, that’s another topic for another blog entry. Let’s get back to the subject of my earlier procrastination.

There is this quaint little almost truck-stop between Ventura and Oxnard that any local will immediately recognize as simply "Wagon Wheel". That is the abbreviated name for a motel and restaurant complex that has gone by the name of The Wagon Wheel Restaurant and Hotel for over sixty years. It officially closed a few months ago, but its fate is still up in the air. There are rumors that it might be declared a historic landmark, but for now what was once an iconic roadside attraction and rest spot for more than half a century sits silently and sadly neglected along a frontage road next to the 101 freeway.

The kitschy motel and restaurant was built in 1947. You could even say it was "relocated" because the man whose dream of a roadside motel that ultimately became the Wagon Wheel Motel put the place together piece by piece from surplus World War II barracks.

Martin Vance 'Bud' Smith won the surplus Sea-Bee barracks at an auction in nearby Port Hueneme, and after having them transported to the site had them arranged in a sort of horseshoe shape, and converted others into a restaurant and motel office. Legend holds that shortly after purchasing the property, Smith found several branding irons in the dirt. Bud figured the land was at one time used by a cattle rancher, and decided on a western theme for his motel and restaurant.

When my family first moved to Ventura in 1967 the large, neon wagon wheel sign was the most identifiable landmark in the entire county. It was so prominent that people would base their directions to Oxnard and Ventura by telling travelers to exit the freeway just south of the large, turning wagon wheel to get to Oxnard, or just north of it for Ventura.

It was high enough, large enough, and bright enough that when lit up at night the animated wagon wheel could be seen from all over these here parts. It was a fantastic piece of neon artwork that rivaled its Las Vegas contemporaries. As it rotated on its base, the wheel appeared to be rolling along, and one by one each letter in "Wagon Wheel" would light up until both words were fully illuminated. Then they would all go out, and then come back on all at once. It was quite a sight. There was also another animated neon sign of a horse-drawn buckboard which appeared to be racing across the prairie. A smaller version of that sign still exists. (At least I think it is a smaller version. It might be the original.)

The old neon sign has been gone for years, and the motel and restaurant has fallen on hard times, but the place is still beautiful if you ask me. Just take a look at these pictures...

(Remember, click on the pictures for a larger version.)

So there you have it, some pictures of a dilapidated motel and restaurant that might one day be mowed down in the name of progress, and transformed into just another cookie-cutter strip mall. What a shame that would be.

So far, though, no determination has been made regarding the fate of the property. As I mentioned earlier, there are talks of preserving the old place. I personally would like to see that happen. The architecture and craftsmanship that went into these buildings in stunning to see in person; my pictures do not do them justice.

Beyond the aesthetics of the buildings is the history that resides in their walls. I have heard that such luminaries as Clark Gable and Jack Nicholson have stayed there. I for one would be very interested in learning more about the history of Wagon Wheel, and I hope one day that history will be made available to the public, on the property, in a roadside museum tribute to the wonderful old Wagon Wheel Motel and Restaurant.

And Now For Something Completely Different

You may have noticed that there is nary a picture of your's truly to be found anywhere on this site. In fact, you would be hard pressed to find a picture of me anywhere, including my own house. The reason for this isn't paranoia, it's consideration. Athenamama has few readers as it is, and I wouldn't want to scare that small, eclectic crowd away by forcing them to gaze upon my ugliness.

But that is all going to change today. Below the fold is a picture of me, and the only reason I am posting it for you today is because I am so very proud of the person who is in the picture with me. He is a person I hold in very high regard, and is also one of the few people I would lay down my life for. And, he is also one of a handful of people whose can be in the same picture as me, and neutralize the effects of my hideousness.

And I know I am not the ugliest person on earth, I am just very humble. Probably the humblest person you know.

Moved

We have successfully moved. Unfortunately, I have yet to secure internet service,so posting will be light(er).

I do have the capability to post from work, and so as soon as I can, I will have pictures of our favorite two little dogs romping around their new digs. We will of course also have some pictures of Thalia and the other cats as soon as they finish up their quarantine. (We have them locked in the garage until they calm down somewhat).

Thanks to everyone who wished us well, and I hope you all have been enjoying exceptionally wonderful holidays.

A Funny Thing Happened on My Way To Work...

This morning's drive into work was, well, interesting.

Every morning I take the 101 freeway to Oxnard. I usually leave for work at about 6:10 in the morning, and traffic is pretty light.

In California you can turn right at an intersection against a red light, so I was sitting at the red light at the 101 and Rose Ave. in Oxnard this morning waiting for a break in traffic so that I could make my right hand turn. I got my break, and without turning my head back forward so that I could see where I was going, I pressed on the accelerator of my 2004 GMC Sierra Pickup truck. That's when I heard the THUMP!

I knew immediately I hit someone, and turned around in time to see this poor man and his bike tumbling forward off of the front bumper of my truck. I was mortified.

The man got up, and held his arms out to his side, a look of disgust clearly appeared across his face. He was a pretty big Filipino man, and I gotta say the first thing that crossed my mind was that this big, pissed off guy was gonna want a piece of me.

"DUDE!" he exclaimed, "What's your problem!"

Wondering why he would think I would do such a thing on purpose I responded with, "DUDE! I don't have "a problem" I just didn't see you!"

The man, still angry but obviously recognizing it was just an accident, picked up his bike and started walking it the rest of the way through the intersection.

I was of course sorry that it happened. Contrary to what the man seemingly believed when I first tried to plow him over, I don't go looking for Filipino men to run down with my truck. So, I asked him if he was OK.

He replied with, "Yeah, I'm f*cking great. I had a f*cking orgasm, OK?"

I had to keep myself from laughing, which I am sure would have really been my undoing.

Oh, and to the guy I ran over... If you Google "Who was that idiot that ran me over this morning", and happen across Athenamama, I just want to say that I really am sorry, and I hope you are feeling better.

Haunted House Update

You remember this house...

Well, the woman who wrote me about it not long ago did a little investigative work, and found a listing for the place!

Someone recently renovated the house, and sold it earlier this year for about $1.6 million. It was evidently built in the early 1980s, and the people who built it never completed the project for some reason.

Anyway, here's a taste of what the place looks like today..

Click the link above to see the full listing. Honestly, I was sort of unimpressed with the interior. It seemed rather bland, and the rooms look surprisingly small. But, I have never actually been inside the place, so what do I know?

Moving Sucks (If it Happens at all)

I am really getting nervous over this whole house deal.

You see, our old place sold on November 4th, and if you are any good at math, then you know that the thirty day escrow is over. WAY over.

The problem is with the place we bought. When we made the offer the listing agent was getting ready to go on his second vacation in as many months. We had to wait one and a half weeks before we knew if our offer was even accepted. The people who owned the house accepted right away, but since the bank was giving them the boot, and was essentially the real seller, then we had to wait on them to give the real OK.

The bank finally accepted our offer, and since then everyone has been running around like headless chickens trying to get everything squared away. Inspections have to be made, loan docs have to be drawn up, and signatures have to be in place. All that takes a while, and that is the reason for thirty day escrows.

Right now I have a buyer who wants to move into his new home. I also have an impatient bank that wants out of the real estate business, and wants ME in their house. They have hinted that that better happen soon, or I will be looking for a NEW house. The problem there is, we got this place at such a deal that I doubt we could afford a house at current market prices. (The one we are buying we got for about $50,000.00 less than market.)

So, I have literally no fingernails left. All my stuff is packed ready to move. I just don't know if that is going to be under a new roof, or an overpass.

A Fungus Among Us

Bill over at Bill and Kent's Place recently posted and entry about Macro Photography. The subjects of his photographs were mushrooms, which reminded me of a growth I had seen on an old stump one day while walking with Angel and Jackie. I went back with my crappy old Olympus Camedia c-3020, and snapped off a couple of pictures to share with you here...

So, there you are, a couple of shots of a rotting tree stump with some heavy duty mold on it.

Me and the Acupuncturist

I have mentioned before that I struggle daily with pain. I have been taking some pretty strong medication for it, and while that medication really doesn't seriously impact my day to day responsibilities, I would prefer not to be taking it. It is because of that reason that I started seeing an acupuncturist.

Typically I am skeptical of such things. While I trust the scientific method, and appreciate the value of empirical data, I also recognize that acupuncture has been around for a very long time, and I am open to the idea that perhaps it is a viable alternative to modern medicine that just hasn't been fully explored yet.

I also think that it might be true that one of the reasons the scientific community hasn't shown the practice of acupuncture any love is because it claims to tap into something that doesn't exist, or at least hasn't been proven to exist. Acupuncture is all about the tweaking of your "meridians", and claims to provide relief by re-balancing "yin", "yang" and "qi".

In any case, I spoke with my doctor about it and she thought as I did, that there must be something to it since it has been practiced for thousands of years, and millions more swear by it. Even if it is just the power of suggestion, if a person experiences the expected results then there's no refuting that, on some level, it works.

So my wife found a licensed acupuncturist, and secured an appointment with him. Once she told me his name, I did what I do with almost everyone who performs a service for me. I Googled him.

It turns out that in addition to being a licensed acupuncturist he is also a "medicinal herb specialist" and a doctor of oriental medicine. How one goes about achieving these things, I don't know. But it still sounds impressive, and his office is just as impressive. He has his diplomas and certificates on the wall for inspection, and if I could read Chinese I am sure I would be even more impressed. He also has vials and baggies of herbs all over the place, and he is happy to explain to you what is in each container, and what it is supposed to do. He is pleasant, mild mannered, and well spoken. He makes you feel at ease, and has a real passion for his work. I like him.

I have seen him four times now, and it costs me about a hundred bucks for each session. Mainly he performs the acupuncture, and sends me home with some herbs that are supposed to help me counter aspects of my life that are contributing to my pain. While I have yet to see any real results, I have been a trooper and try to keep an open mind. But, my since last session I am starting to have some serious qualms about his practice.

During the past week my pain level has been pretty high. I told the acupuncturist this, and also told him that I had what people refer to as tennis elbow. Because of the meds I am on, I am obliged to see my doctor each month, and when I saw her last week I told her of my elbow, and she confirmed that it was indeed tennis elbow. The acupuncturist examined my elbow, and told me to bring my chair closer to the table. He placed a white sheet of paper in front of me, and told me to put my left hand palm down on my thigh. He positioned me in my chair, and then placed a container with some capsules, (presumably a herb of some sort,) in front of me, and told me to put my had palm down on the container.

Then he waved a crystal in front of me.

The large, clear crystal was suspended on what appeared to be fishing line, and he would sort of wave it around my hand and arm much like a hypnotist would do in front of your face. In fact, at first I thought he was trying to hypnotize me!

He would change containers, and swing the crystal over my hand again and again. At one point he put two containers under my hand, and almost immediately after the first pass of the crystal he said, "Incompatible", and took the containers back. He removed a couple of capsules from each, put them back under my palm, and swung the crystal again. "That's better", he said, evidently satisfied with the new combination.

To be honest, I was shocked. So much so in fact that I couldn't bring myself to ask him about it because I knew it would come out in an accusing tone. I just couldn't buy into the idea that swinging a pretty rock over my hand while it covered some plant matter would make one iota of difference with my pain.

Like I said, I am a skeptic. But I think I am an open minded skeptic. I don't believe you can dismiss something out-of-hand unless you experience it yourself, even if you do investigate it using the scientific method and find it to be bogus. Maybe there is something about it that is real, and we just can't quantify it through the tools available to us today.

On the other hand, maybe it is strictly a matter of mind over matter, or the power of suggestion. Perhaps that is why it hasn't worked on me so far. I just don't believe in it enough. But I seriously doubt that the whole crystal swinging thing has any effect on anyone. It certainly didn't have an effect on me.

It is late afternoon, and I am in as much pain as I normally would be, and I am about to do something I know for a fact will get rid of my pain. I am going to get a glass of water and take my 80mg of Oxycontin.

Peace vs Hate

I intentionally stay away from such topic as politics here at Athenamama because I really do not have the time and energy to express any views I might have here. Besides, this blog really isn'rt the place for those things anyway.

But this morning I found this r