Before I start, let me caution the parents that may be reading this. Send the children out of the room. What follows is so horrible, so scary that it is not for the faint of heart or for those under the age of twelve. I’ll wait until they are gone...............ok, we can continue.
The Martin family, or to be more accurate, Mikki, Katie and me - Jake is left out of the fun since he is playing football and needs his strength - have embarked on an epic odyssey, though that may be redundant. We have adopted a new diet that promises to bring health, happiness and prosperity to all those who would dare to attempt its rigor. Not wanting to back away from a challenge, we stepped to the plate, ready to take our swing at the fence.
The name of this program is "The Food Lovers Fat Loss Diet". It appears to be a very sensible, reasonable plan that incorporates real food and is based on the concepts of Nutrisystem, with a hint of Richard Simmons’ Deal a Meal utilizing real food we eat on a regular basis. It all sounded good until the first six day detox plan was explained to me. I was incredulous when I heard what was expected of me. At hearing the directions, I was immediately taken back to those days of pledging for a fraternity and the infamous "Hell Week" that every upperclassman looked forward to with sadistic glee. "I have to do what?" was my first reaction, my second being going to my room and brooding for several hours.
After coming out of my room, I reluctantly, and against all reason, acquiesced to the regimen and now find myself in the middle of the second ‘Hell Week’ of my life. What follows is the daily detox plan:
Upon waking, I am immediately, or at least ten minutes after waking, given a glass of water laced with Pysillium husks that has the equivalent fiber rating of a large ball of twine. After ingesting the fiber bomb, I am then administered a glass of water mixed with chlorophyl. For those of you who may not be familiar with chlorophyl and its many uses, let me elucidate. Chlorophyl is touted as an internal deodorant. I can now rest from my concerns that my insides may possibly stink. In addition to its deodorant characteristics, it is also extremely green. When I say extremely green, I am not exaggerating. It is so green that even the Irish refuse to use it. And might I add that everything it comes in contact with is instantly turned green. After the greening and deodorizing of my insides, I am then given a capsule of cascara sagrada that just adds to the truckload of fiber that I have already consumed.
Now for some real food? No! A blender of blue berries, protein powder, banana and apple juice, deceitfully labeled as breakfast, is then chocked down and I am out the door, armed with a field of green fiber and fruit, sitting like a ticking bomb in my gut. What could possibly go wrong with that?
At ten in the morning, I’m allowed a cup of apple juice and at lunch I get another shake with either blueberries or strawberries and protein powder. My afternoon snack consists of a choice of a soup mix of carrots and potatoes thrown into the blender so as to render them unrecognizable both in taste, texture and looks, or a cup of chicken bouillon. The evening meal is a repeat of the morning regimen of fiber, fruit and chlorophyl, and then all we have to look forward to is our evening snack of chicken bouillon or mystery soup. With these two, one has to choose between the needed calories of the mystery soup, or the welcome taste of chicken bouillon, which is devoid of any appreciable calories. So, death by starvation or wanting to die because of a dearth of taste.
As any reasonable, thinking human being would anticipate, the combination of a bushel basket of fiber mixed with fruit may have a significant impact on ones regularity. That thinking human would be more than right, in fact, he would be spot on. Now, those of you who are a bit squeamish or faint of heart, may want to turn away at this part, or at best, avert your eyes. To say there were frequent trips to the bathroom would be a gross understatement, and to add insult to injury, so to speak, the offerings at the porcelain throne were St Patrick’s Day approved. (You can reference the above description of the characteristics of chlorophyl). And to think I only have to endure this for SIX DAYS!!!!
As I write this, I am in the middle of ‘Hell Week’ and it would appear that, with any luck, I’ll survive this ordeal and will make it to the real food part of the program. This initial stage is, as I mentioned, the detox portion of the program and is designed to rid my body of all the toxins I accumulated over the years from the regular food I was eating. I’m not sure how the toxins got into my food, but at least I am now spewing them out of my body at an alarming rate and will, in three days, be toxin free. How many other men can say that?
I am sure this program was initiated by the CIA in or around the confines of Gitmo for the interrogation of terrorist and other miscreants that are housed there. However, all of my phone calls to Langley have not been returned, so we will never really be sure.
Rumor has it that this program was also rejected for use in training by the Navy SEALS as being too rigorous, onerous and just plain mean spirited.
In closing, may I, at this time, give my thanks to all those who have sent their condolences through cards and flowers in sympathy to my plight. They are deeply appreciated. Fiber on, dudes.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Fifty items of gratitude
"And in nothing doth man offend God, or against none is his wrath kindled, save those who confess not his hand in all things." D&C 59:7,21
I have listed fifty items I am grateful for so that if the event I should ever feel as if life is picking on me or dealing me a bad hand, I can look at my list and realize that regardless of my current circumstance, I have been bountifully blessed. Even if one or several of the items on my list have been altered or removed, I still have all the others to be thankful for.
I have to admit that I am a bit chagrined that it took some thought to reach fifty. I had assumed it would be easier than it turned out to be, but a great exercise in having to really think about what I have been given. I have included some brief explanations and some commentary as well. Believe me, it is in no way complete or extensive - each item could be an essay in and of itself - I just wanted to give a brief commentary. I also need to mention that these are not necessarily listed in order of importance.
I would like to offer a challenge to all that read this - compile your own list of fifty items. You will probably use some of the same as I did, which is great, but you will, no doubt, have many that are original to you. Good luck!
The List
1. A loving Heavenly Father
I am blessed to understand the love He has for me and how involved in my life he is.
2. My Savior, Jesus Christ.
Without His atoning sacrifice, I would not be able to return to my Heavenly Father. Jesus is an example I can use in every aspect of my life.
3. Mikki, my wife.
She is my best friend, without whom I would be lost. She is everything to me. My coat from the cold (she’ll understand that reference.)
4. Tyler
5. Zach
6. Katie
7. Jake
(I listed my children separately because they are each, in their own way, a blessing to my life.)
8. My Mother
She brought me into the world, sacrificed continually for me as I was growing up, and continues to love me.
9. The promise of an Eternal family
I can be with my family forever. What a blessing that is!
10. Freedom.
Freedom allows me to enjoy all the rest of what I have.
11. Life
Just the blessing of being alive. That is, indeed, a great gift.
12. Love
13. Prayer
14. Sight
To see the beauty around me.
15. Hearing
16. Intellect
I have a mind that enables me to understand the world, to earn a living and to interact with others.
17. Speech
18. Smell
I smell good? :)
19. Mobility
I can walk, run, use stairs, etc.
20. Extended Family
21. Health
22. The Plan of Salvation
The plan that Father in Heaven gave me to allow me to return to Him someday with my family.
23. Friends.
24. A home
A place of safety from the world, a refuge from the storm.
25. Scriptures
26. Church
27. Modern Revelation
28. The United States Constitution
29. Beauty in all forms.
30. Music
31. A sense of humor
32. My talents
(Yes, it is plural)
33. Nature
34. Food and water
35. Memories
These seem to be fewer as I age.
36. Art
37. Knowledge
38. Heroes (Military, Police, Firemen, etc
39. Upbringing of values
40. Time
41. Modern Medicine
42. Science
43. Leaders
44. Employment
45. Safety
46. Technology
47. Business opportunities
48. Great books
49. Recreation
50. Transportation
So, there it is, my list of fifty things that I am grateful for. Let me know what you think of it and some of the things you would have had on your list.
I have listed fifty items I am grateful for so that if the event I should ever feel as if life is picking on me or dealing me a bad hand, I can look at my list and realize that regardless of my current circumstance, I have been bountifully blessed. Even if one or several of the items on my list have been altered or removed, I still have all the others to be thankful for.
I have to admit that I am a bit chagrined that it took some thought to reach fifty. I had assumed it would be easier than it turned out to be, but a great exercise in having to really think about what I have been given. I have included some brief explanations and some commentary as well. Believe me, it is in no way complete or extensive - each item could be an essay in and of itself - I just wanted to give a brief commentary. I also need to mention that these are not necessarily listed in order of importance.
I would like to offer a challenge to all that read this - compile your own list of fifty items. You will probably use some of the same as I did, which is great, but you will, no doubt, have many that are original to you. Good luck!
The List
1. A loving Heavenly Father
I am blessed to understand the love He has for me and how involved in my life he is.
2. My Savior, Jesus Christ.
Without His atoning sacrifice, I would not be able to return to my Heavenly Father. Jesus is an example I can use in every aspect of my life.
3. Mikki, my wife.
She is my best friend, without whom I would be lost. She is everything to me. My coat from the cold (she’ll understand that reference.)
4. Tyler
5. Zach
6. Katie
7. Jake
(I listed my children separately because they are each, in their own way, a blessing to my life.)
8. My Mother
She brought me into the world, sacrificed continually for me as I was growing up, and continues to love me.
9. The promise of an Eternal family
I can be with my family forever. What a blessing that is!
10. Freedom.
Freedom allows me to enjoy all the rest of what I have.
11. Life
Just the blessing of being alive. That is, indeed, a great gift.
12. Love
13. Prayer
14. Sight
To see the beauty around me.
15. Hearing
16. Intellect
I have a mind that enables me to understand the world, to earn a living and to interact with others.
17. Speech
18. Smell
I smell good? :)
19. Mobility
I can walk, run, use stairs, etc.
20. Extended Family
21. Health
22. The Plan of Salvation
The plan that Father in Heaven gave me to allow me to return to Him someday with my family.
23. Friends.
24. A home
A place of safety from the world, a refuge from the storm.
25. Scriptures
26. Church
27. Modern Revelation
28. The United States Constitution
29. Beauty in all forms.
30. Music
31. A sense of humor
32. My talents
(Yes, it is plural)
33. Nature
34. Food and water
35. Memories
These seem to be fewer as I age.
36. Art
37. Knowledge
38. Heroes (Military, Police, Firemen, etc
39. Upbringing of values
40. Time
41. Modern Medicine
42. Science
43. Leaders
44. Employment
45. Safety
46. Technology
47. Business opportunities
48. Great books
49. Recreation
50. Transportation
So, there it is, my list of fifty things that I am grateful for. Let me know what you think of it and some of the things you would have had on your list.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Poison - A Short Story
(Note: This is a short story I wrote for a new site that is publishing short stores online. This one was longer than the 1500 word limit, so I thought I'd "publish" it here. Let me know if you enjoy it.)
Wally Huddleston, a thirty something, balding, terrible excuse for a man, sat in his cocoon like cubicle at the Americas Insurance Company, munching his twenty fifth potato chip. He knew it was the twenty fifth because he counted his food as he consumed it, obsessing over every bite, every crumb, every swallow. Wally was overweight and given his love of food and the pleasure it contained, would probably be so for the rest of his life. Besides, if people didn’t like him the way he was, then he figured they could just take a flying leap.
Wally’s love affair with food, the only affair he was ever likely to have, was all he really had in his life. He hated his work, wasn’t too fond of his fellow workers, disliked his life, or lack of it, and with one exception, despised everyone he met. The one exception, the one bright spot in Wally’s drab and pointless life, was Becky Pearce, who worked five cubicles down from Wally’s and whom he thought was the most beautiful woman in the world. Becky, of course, had no idea Wally had any feelings for her, as they rarely exchanged more than simple greetings, and even then, Wally would never look at her as he mumbled good morning to her. She had smiled at him on the day she started at Americas and from that day on, Wally was in love.
Becky’s bubbly personality and infectious laugh had won over all the men at Americas from the very first day she set foot in the drab halls of the Americas Insurance Company, perched on the 65th floor of the Allen building. The fact that she was drop dead gorgeous, added to her popularity with the men on her floor, with Wally, no exception to her siren call.
He would often fantasize about her and what their life together could be, how she would dote on his every word, bringing him his slippers as he returned from work, fixing him fabulous meals after which they would make mad, passionate love for hours, and how she would coo soft words of love into his ear afterwards. He could see himself combing his fingers through her long, blonde hair, pushing it away from her flawless, tanned skin. He kissed her forehead and touched her large, blue eyes, softly caressing her eyelids, marveling at her long, full lashes as they touched his finger tips. He sat back and looked at her, soaking in her beauty, admiring her taut, athletic figure, her long, perfectly formed legs, her small feet with designs painted on her toenails. He loved every perfect inch of her, everything worthy of admiration.
Wally was in the midst of one of his fantasies, when Larry Rissen swung around the cubicle opening and grabbed the bag of chips Wally was saving for after lunch.
"You don’t need these, do you Puddlebutt?" Larry said, opening the bag and grabbing a chip. He had started calling Wally, Huddlebutt, but morphed it further from his name into Puddlebutt. Wally viewed Larry as the most obnoxious, foul person to ever walk the earth, but was afraid to say anything to Larry as he was large, fit and, in Wally’s opinion, extremely aggressive.
Larry had made a point of taking some of Wally’s food every day, explaining that he was just trying to help Wally lose some weight and that Wally should be thanking him for his trouble. Wally, of course, didn’t see Larry’s thievery as any kind of help and had even thought of filing a complaint, going so far as to fill out the form and stick it in an envelope. The envelope sat on his desk for two weeks before he finally threw it in the trash. He binged on an entire cherry cheese cake and two dozen cookies to celebrate his spineless lack of courage.
"Why bother asking?" Wally responded.
"No hard fellings, huh Puddlebutt?" Larry said as he wandered off down the hall of cubicles.
"Right, no hard feelings," Wally mumbled under his breath, the sarcasm dripping.
That was the day Wally started planning Larry’s death. There was more to the rivalry between Wally and Larry than the food pilfering. Wally, having overheard the braggart talking to some coworkers about what he wanted to do with her, knew Larry had designs on Becky. Wally had tried to defend her.
"That’s not the way you should talk about a woman," he had said, looking down at his shoes as soon as he spoke.
"What does someone like you know about talking about a woman," Larry had said, derisively. "Come on, give us the benefit of your many years of experience with the fairer sex, Puddlebutt" he had added, laughing and slapping one of the other men on the shoulder.
Wally’s anger boiled up inside him, but he said nothing.
"Well now, look at Puddlebutt get all red," Larry had said, mockingly. "Maybe we should all stand back before he blows!"
Wally hurried back to his cubicle and opened a bag of Fritos and filled his mouth with a hand full. Somehow, he vowed, he would get even with Larry for all the times he’d been humiliated and bullied by the blowhard. Somehow, but how? Wally was not the perfect specimen of manhood one would envision when thinking of an avenging angel to go and do battle with the evil that is in the world. He had a massive comb over, held in place by a combination of pomade and hair spray, dark, heavy rimmed glasses that were best described as Coke bottle bottoms. His mass was centered at his belt line, pushing the limits of what anyone could expect from any belt, and all this was set on a five six frame, balanced on small, flat feet.
Wally planned. He planned the rest of the day and well into the night. His plan was foolproof; one that would offer him relief from the bullying and the incessant teasing, and with the bonus of no one knowing he was the instrument of death. His precise research was finished and all he had left to do was implement the plan. He began the following Saturday.
Wally rushed around the city gathering the various parts essential to making his plan work. The first item, a syringe, was readily available in the dumpster in the alley behind Wally’s apartment building where the junkies gathered to shoot up all sorts of nasty things into their veins. His next item was more difficult to find and purchase. It required extensive research and even more correspondence, but, in the end, was the key to making the plan work. Wally had emailed a small research facility in Caractao, Brazil, requesting a sample of the excretion from the p. terriblis , or more commonly known as the poison dart frog. He explained he was a scientist working on a medicinal use for the poison, going into sufficient detail that they agreed to send a vile of the poison. They explained that the poison was extremely toxic, resulting in a gruesome, ugly death withing seconds of ingestion. Wally explained he was aware of the deadliness of the toxin, but was willing to take the risk. He had them send the secretion via next day mail, costing him an entire week’s pay, but, in his mind, well worth the cost. He now had all the ingredients to make his plan work. The following Wednesday, he was ready to implement the villainous project.
Wally was up early, rushing around his small apartment, preparing the bait - a banana - chosen for its ability to mask the slight odor and taste of the poison. He was almost giddy as he went about his preparation, humming as he injected the frog secretion into the banana, laughing at one point as he imagined Larry eating the banana and instantly falling to the floor, foaming at the mouth, contorted in pain. He tried to act as natural as possible as he entered the office and walked to his cubicle. He sat the banana in a conspicuous place on the end of his desk, anticipating Larry’s arrival. He didn’t have to wait long.
Larry walked up to the opening of Wally’s cubicle.
"Say, Puddlebutt, whatcha got for breakfast? How about this banana? You don’t need it, do you?"
Wally didn’t want to seem to anxious for Larry to take the banana so he started to protest.
"Yeah, I do want it, Larry," he said, not looking at Larry.
"So do I, it will make a great gift," Larry said, grabbing the banana and walking off toward the common area.
"Fine," Wally said, under his breath, a faint smile on his thin, purple lips, "Very fine, indeed. Consider it a gift then"
Wally sat back in his chair and waited for the event he had waited and planned for. He didn’t have to wait long. He heard a scream. He jumped up and headed toward the common area, trying to look surprised and interested so as not to draw any suspicion towards himself. Suddenly, he stopped. Jutting from behind a desk, on the floor, were the legs of Becky. He knew they were hers because of her shoes, the little red pumps she always wore with the blue pinafore and white stockings. He knew most people by their shoes since he was always looking down rather than in people’s eyes. No question, it was Becky. Larry must have meant the banana was a gift for her, not him. Wally had killed the one thing in his life with any meaning.
He turned away from the death scene and walked out of the large room into the hall and up the stairs to the roof where he usually ate his lunch. He walked around the hulking air conditioning unit, where he customarily sat in the shade, directly to the edge of the building. He never hesitated, he just stepped off the edge and fell.
The tickle in his stomach stopped after about fifty feet. For the rest of the fall, Wally was calm, finding the rapidity of the descent mesmerizing. The ground approached much faster than he had anticipated and he covered the eight hundred and five feet in just a few seconds, smashing into the cement just behind two women in town early to miss the rush of the other shoppers. He didn’t feel a thing, finding death the instant he hit. He bounced once then landed in a messy heap, surrounded by blood and brains and other gooey stuff that comes our of a body when it suddenly stops and nearly explodes.
No one understood why he jumped. Certainly it couldn’t be the unexplained and sudden death of Larry Rissen, or the fainting collapse of Becky Pearce as she witnessed the ugly death of Larry. It was just one of those unexplained mysteries. And wasn’t it a shame.
Wally Huddleston, a thirty something, balding, terrible excuse for a man, sat in his cocoon like cubicle at the Americas Insurance Company, munching his twenty fifth potato chip. He knew it was the twenty fifth because he counted his food as he consumed it, obsessing over every bite, every crumb, every swallow. Wally was overweight and given his love of food and the pleasure it contained, would probably be so for the rest of his life. Besides, if people didn’t like him the way he was, then he figured they could just take a flying leap.
Wally’s love affair with food, the only affair he was ever likely to have, was all he really had in his life. He hated his work, wasn’t too fond of his fellow workers, disliked his life, or lack of it, and with one exception, despised everyone he met. The one exception, the one bright spot in Wally’s drab and pointless life, was Becky Pearce, who worked five cubicles down from Wally’s and whom he thought was the most beautiful woman in the world. Becky, of course, had no idea Wally had any feelings for her, as they rarely exchanged more than simple greetings, and even then, Wally would never look at her as he mumbled good morning to her. She had smiled at him on the day she started at Americas and from that day on, Wally was in love.
Becky’s bubbly personality and infectious laugh had won over all the men at Americas from the very first day she set foot in the drab halls of the Americas Insurance Company, perched on the 65th floor of the Allen building. The fact that she was drop dead gorgeous, added to her popularity with the men on her floor, with Wally, no exception to her siren call.
He would often fantasize about her and what their life together could be, how she would dote on his every word, bringing him his slippers as he returned from work, fixing him fabulous meals after which they would make mad, passionate love for hours, and how she would coo soft words of love into his ear afterwards. He could see himself combing his fingers through her long, blonde hair, pushing it away from her flawless, tanned skin. He kissed her forehead and touched her large, blue eyes, softly caressing her eyelids, marveling at her long, full lashes as they touched his finger tips. He sat back and looked at her, soaking in her beauty, admiring her taut, athletic figure, her long, perfectly formed legs, her small feet with designs painted on her toenails. He loved every perfect inch of her, everything worthy of admiration.
Wally was in the midst of one of his fantasies, when Larry Rissen swung around the cubicle opening and grabbed the bag of chips Wally was saving for after lunch.
"You don’t need these, do you Puddlebutt?" Larry said, opening the bag and grabbing a chip. He had started calling Wally, Huddlebutt, but morphed it further from his name into Puddlebutt. Wally viewed Larry as the most obnoxious, foul person to ever walk the earth, but was afraid to say anything to Larry as he was large, fit and, in Wally’s opinion, extremely aggressive.
Larry had made a point of taking some of Wally’s food every day, explaining that he was just trying to help Wally lose some weight and that Wally should be thanking him for his trouble. Wally, of course, didn’t see Larry’s thievery as any kind of help and had even thought of filing a complaint, going so far as to fill out the form and stick it in an envelope. The envelope sat on his desk for two weeks before he finally threw it in the trash. He binged on an entire cherry cheese cake and two dozen cookies to celebrate his spineless lack of courage.
"Why bother asking?" Wally responded.
"No hard fellings, huh Puddlebutt?" Larry said as he wandered off down the hall of cubicles.
"Right, no hard feelings," Wally mumbled under his breath, the sarcasm dripping.
That was the day Wally started planning Larry’s death. There was more to the rivalry between Wally and Larry than the food pilfering. Wally, having overheard the braggart talking to some coworkers about what he wanted to do with her, knew Larry had designs on Becky. Wally had tried to defend her.
"That’s not the way you should talk about a woman," he had said, looking down at his shoes as soon as he spoke.
"What does someone like you know about talking about a woman," Larry had said, derisively. "Come on, give us the benefit of your many years of experience with the fairer sex, Puddlebutt" he had added, laughing and slapping one of the other men on the shoulder.
Wally’s anger boiled up inside him, but he said nothing.
"Well now, look at Puddlebutt get all red," Larry had said, mockingly. "Maybe we should all stand back before he blows!"
Wally hurried back to his cubicle and opened a bag of Fritos and filled his mouth with a hand full. Somehow, he vowed, he would get even with Larry for all the times he’d been humiliated and bullied by the blowhard. Somehow, but how? Wally was not the perfect specimen of manhood one would envision when thinking of an avenging angel to go and do battle with the evil that is in the world. He had a massive comb over, held in place by a combination of pomade and hair spray, dark, heavy rimmed glasses that were best described as Coke bottle bottoms. His mass was centered at his belt line, pushing the limits of what anyone could expect from any belt, and all this was set on a five six frame, balanced on small, flat feet.
Wally planned. He planned the rest of the day and well into the night. His plan was foolproof; one that would offer him relief from the bullying and the incessant teasing, and with the bonus of no one knowing he was the instrument of death. His precise research was finished and all he had left to do was implement the plan. He began the following Saturday.
Wally rushed around the city gathering the various parts essential to making his plan work. The first item, a syringe, was readily available in the dumpster in the alley behind Wally’s apartment building where the junkies gathered to shoot up all sorts of nasty things into their veins. His next item was more difficult to find and purchase. It required extensive research and even more correspondence, but, in the end, was the key to making the plan work. Wally had emailed a small research facility in Caractao, Brazil, requesting a sample of the excretion from the p. terriblis , or more commonly known as the poison dart frog. He explained he was a scientist working on a medicinal use for the poison, going into sufficient detail that they agreed to send a vile of the poison. They explained that the poison was extremely toxic, resulting in a gruesome, ugly death withing seconds of ingestion. Wally explained he was aware of the deadliness of the toxin, but was willing to take the risk. He had them send the secretion via next day mail, costing him an entire week’s pay, but, in his mind, well worth the cost. He now had all the ingredients to make his plan work. The following Wednesday, he was ready to implement the villainous project.
Wally was up early, rushing around his small apartment, preparing the bait - a banana - chosen for its ability to mask the slight odor and taste of the poison. He was almost giddy as he went about his preparation, humming as he injected the frog secretion into the banana, laughing at one point as he imagined Larry eating the banana and instantly falling to the floor, foaming at the mouth, contorted in pain. He tried to act as natural as possible as he entered the office and walked to his cubicle. He sat the banana in a conspicuous place on the end of his desk, anticipating Larry’s arrival. He didn’t have to wait long.
Larry walked up to the opening of Wally’s cubicle.
"Say, Puddlebutt, whatcha got for breakfast? How about this banana? You don’t need it, do you?"
Wally didn’t want to seem to anxious for Larry to take the banana so he started to protest.
"Yeah, I do want it, Larry," he said, not looking at Larry.
"So do I, it will make a great gift," Larry said, grabbing the banana and walking off toward the common area.
"Fine," Wally said, under his breath, a faint smile on his thin, purple lips, "Very fine, indeed. Consider it a gift then"
Wally sat back in his chair and waited for the event he had waited and planned for. He didn’t have to wait long. He heard a scream. He jumped up and headed toward the common area, trying to look surprised and interested so as not to draw any suspicion towards himself. Suddenly, he stopped. Jutting from behind a desk, on the floor, were the legs of Becky. He knew they were hers because of her shoes, the little red pumps she always wore with the blue pinafore and white stockings. He knew most people by their shoes since he was always looking down rather than in people’s eyes. No question, it was Becky. Larry must have meant the banana was a gift for her, not him. Wally had killed the one thing in his life with any meaning.
He turned away from the death scene and walked out of the large room into the hall and up the stairs to the roof where he usually ate his lunch. He walked around the hulking air conditioning unit, where he customarily sat in the shade, directly to the edge of the building. He never hesitated, he just stepped off the edge and fell.
The tickle in his stomach stopped after about fifty feet. For the rest of the fall, Wally was calm, finding the rapidity of the descent mesmerizing. The ground approached much faster than he had anticipated and he covered the eight hundred and five feet in just a few seconds, smashing into the cement just behind two women in town early to miss the rush of the other shoppers. He didn’t feel a thing, finding death the instant he hit. He bounced once then landed in a messy heap, surrounded by blood and brains and other gooey stuff that comes our of a body when it suddenly stops and nearly explodes.
No one understood why he jumped. Certainly it couldn’t be the unexplained and sudden death of Larry Rissen, or the fainting collapse of Becky Pearce as she witnessed the ugly death of Larry. It was just one of those unexplained mysteries. And wasn’t it a shame.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
The Dog is back
So, dear reader, we continue with the saga of the rabid dog and his angry antics. I finally detached his slobbery jaw from my computer’s virtual leg and was minding my own business, wondering how I was going to keep my family safe from some of the more unsavory junk on the internet, when I received a call from John Ahlander, who is one of the principles at K9 Web Protection, a division of BlueCoat. They are the trainers and former handlers of the guard dog that attacked my computer. He was very gracious and expressed his dismay at my predicament. He explained that there are over a million virtual guard dogs dispatched throughout the country, guarding families just like mine and that very few of them have turned on those families. Mine was a special case, with some unusual circumstances. He offered some explanations as to what happened to my dog and, after some discussion, we were able to narrow it down to a few things, but nothing definite.
Because the software is free, and because most all of the dogs are well behaved, there isn’t a lot of need, nor a lot of money to justify a large, extensive support staff, which I discovered when I looked to them for help. After discussing these items, we decided to run an experiment. I was going to download another dog and have a second go at it, so to speak. We are going to endeavor to tempt the dog to see if it will attack its owner again. If it does, Mr Ahlander has pledged his personal help, giving me his email address and business phone number. One can't ask any more than that from a company.
So, as we speak, the dog is wandering the virtual junk yard we affectionately call the internet, protecting my family from the virtual mail man in the event he tries to deliver Smut Magazine this month. So far, so good. The dog is doing his job, and we’re still able to use the internet. Well, kinda. We have another problem with a virus or piece of malware that is blocking Facebook and MySpace. We are currently in heated battle with this little devil using every weapon in our arsenal - AVG, Adaware, Spybot, and Malware bytes - to defeat and destroy this bad boy.
So, all is well that ends well. I appreciate Mr. Ahlander taking time out of his busy schedule to call me, some insignificant spec in the middle of nowhere, and offer his help. That shows a lot of class and devotion to service. In the end, I’ll have to retract some of my statements about k9 Webprotection and say that if you want to protect your family from the evils that lurk on the internet, K9 is a viable option.
Stay tuned to this station for a complete recap of our upcoming trip to Northern California to visit the redwoods, Pacific ocean, Oregon coast and impromptu family reunion in Eugene, Oregon next week.
Because the software is free, and because most all of the dogs are well behaved, there isn’t a lot of need, nor a lot of money to justify a large, extensive support staff, which I discovered when I looked to them for help. After discussing these items, we decided to run an experiment. I was going to download another dog and have a second go at it, so to speak. We are going to endeavor to tempt the dog to see if it will attack its owner again. If it does, Mr Ahlander has pledged his personal help, giving me his email address and business phone number. One can't ask any more than that from a company.
So, as we speak, the dog is wandering the virtual junk yard we affectionately call the internet, protecting my family from the virtual mail man in the event he tries to deliver Smut Magazine this month. So far, so good. The dog is doing his job, and we’re still able to use the internet. Well, kinda. We have another problem with a virus or piece of malware that is blocking Facebook and MySpace. We are currently in heated battle with this little devil using every weapon in our arsenal - AVG, Adaware, Spybot, and Malware bytes - to defeat and destroy this bad boy.
So, all is well that ends well. I appreciate Mr. Ahlander taking time out of his busy schedule to call me, some insignificant spec in the middle of nowhere, and offer his help. That shows a lot of class and devotion to service. In the end, I’ll have to retract some of my statements about k9 Webprotection and say that if you want to protect your family from the evils that lurk on the internet, K9 is a viable option.
Stay tuned to this station for a complete recap of our upcoming trip to Northern California to visit the redwoods, Pacific ocean, Oregon coast and impromptu family reunion in Eugene, Oregon next week.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Mad Dog Mauling
We all are familiar with the phrase, "Meaner than a junkyard dog", meaning a guard dog that is beyond vicious, that would just as well rip your arm off as look at you. Well, I’ve recently had an encounter with a vicious, rabid, guard dog that has left me shaken, angry and somewhat nauseous. I’ll try to recount the adventure as best I can and try not to swear.
It all began innocently, as most of these things do. I wanted to protect Katie and Jake from the evils that lurk on the Internet waiting to pounce on unsuspecting youngsters and senile oldsters. At the recommendation of a trusted friend and IT professional, I downloaded a piece of free software entitled K9 Web Protection, offered by BlueCoat. At first, our relationship was benign and friendly, with the dog - they have a dog as a mascot that you can have bark if someone tries to access a web page that is inappropriate - doing his job and keeping us all safe from the nasties that lurk on the web. But, then it happened.....
One evening, the kids informed me that the computer downstairs was ‘broke’ ,as they put it. Regardless of the nature of the problem with the computer, they always say the same things. Either ‘it is broke’, or ‘the computer doesn’t work.’ So, I took a look at the computer and found that the dog had turned on us and had taken the computer hostage and wouldn’t let go. Not only had it turned on us, but it had become rabid as well, crazy in its aggression. I tried to uninstall it, but it required the use of the administrative password. No problem. I entered the same password that I had been using for over a year and the dog said it was invalid. INVALID?????!!!! How could that be? There was no doubt that the dog was out of control and needed to be stopped at any cost!
As you would assume, I turned to the original handlers of this malicious mutt, the K9 Web protection folks. Once on their site, (I had to use my computer at work) I soon discovered that they had no support, only some automated FAQ doggey doo that was of no help at all. I searched their forum for clues to eliminating this nasty threat from my computer and found others who had experienced the same misfortune. The knowledge that they had found no relief made my heart sink. I found a phone number for K9 that was in Draper, Utah. I called it and, of course, had to leave a message as there wasn’t anyone around to answer the phone. They never called me back, even after three messages. I was getting desperate.
Soon, I figured that if the K9 people were unresponsive, maybe I could go to the parent company, BlueCoat. At least there I found a human to talk to. The person I talked to took my information - phone number, email address, etc, then said he would forward it to the K9 people. NOOOOOOO! I begged him not to give me to those lunatics who had sicked this mad dog on me in the first place and then had refused to even talk to me after the mangy mutt turned on me. He explained that the people I had called were in Utah and that the people he was going to give my information to were in California. I was somewhat relieved at that news. I shouldn’t have been!
They emailed me instructions to the corralling of this dangerous canine. I had explained to them that I couldn’t get on the internet, a common problem when the dog turns on its master and takes over the computer. They sent me instructions to download the software again, overlay it on the original, re-enter a new password and then I could do whatever I wanted to from that point. Fine! But ......HOW DO I GET ON THE INTERNET TO DOWNLOAD THE SOFTWARE IF YOUR SOFTWARE WON’T LET ME GET ON THE INTERNET??????
This salient point seemed to stump the support group. I can see them all huddling around their one desk in someone’s small garage trying to answer that sublime question. Well, maybe they are in a basement rather than a garage, who knows?
So, let this be a warning to all that read this, don’t download the software known as K9 Web Protection! It may be fine for awhile, but it will turn on you and hold you in its slobbery jaws and never let go, and you will have no one to turn to for help. Whatever you do, don’t download this software.
So, now what do I do? I’ve called a friend - a different one than recommended this piece of dog doo, who is a professional IT man to see if he can eliminate this menace. Perhaps in another post, I’ll be able to report that I’m free of the malicious malware that K9 had unleashed on the world. Perhaps.
It all began innocently, as most of these things do. I wanted to protect Katie and Jake from the evils that lurk on the Internet waiting to pounce on unsuspecting youngsters and senile oldsters. At the recommendation of a trusted friend and IT professional, I downloaded a piece of free software entitled K9 Web Protection, offered by BlueCoat. At first, our relationship was benign and friendly, with the dog - they have a dog as a mascot that you can have bark if someone tries to access a web page that is inappropriate - doing his job and keeping us all safe from the nasties that lurk on the web. But, then it happened.....
One evening, the kids informed me that the computer downstairs was ‘broke’ ,as they put it. Regardless of the nature of the problem with the computer, they always say the same things. Either ‘it is broke’, or ‘the computer doesn’t work.’ So, I took a look at the computer and found that the dog had turned on us and had taken the computer hostage and wouldn’t let go. Not only had it turned on us, but it had become rabid as well, crazy in its aggression. I tried to uninstall it, but it required the use of the administrative password. No problem. I entered the same password that I had been using for over a year and the dog said it was invalid. INVALID?????!!!! How could that be? There was no doubt that the dog was out of control and needed to be stopped at any cost!
As you would assume, I turned to the original handlers of this malicious mutt, the K9 Web protection folks. Once on their site, (I had to use my computer at work) I soon discovered that they had no support, only some automated FAQ doggey doo that was of no help at all. I searched their forum for clues to eliminating this nasty threat from my computer and found others who had experienced the same misfortune. The knowledge that they had found no relief made my heart sink. I found a phone number for K9 that was in Draper, Utah. I called it and, of course, had to leave a message as there wasn’t anyone around to answer the phone. They never called me back, even after three messages. I was getting desperate.
Soon, I figured that if the K9 people were unresponsive, maybe I could go to the parent company, BlueCoat. At least there I found a human to talk to. The person I talked to took my information - phone number, email address, etc, then said he would forward it to the K9 people. NOOOOOOO! I begged him not to give me to those lunatics who had sicked this mad dog on me in the first place and then had refused to even talk to me after the mangy mutt turned on me. He explained that the people I had called were in Utah and that the people he was going to give my information to were in California. I was somewhat relieved at that news. I shouldn’t have been!
They emailed me instructions to the corralling of this dangerous canine. I had explained to them that I couldn’t get on the internet, a common problem when the dog turns on its master and takes over the computer. They sent me instructions to download the software again, overlay it on the original, re-enter a new password and then I could do whatever I wanted to from that point. Fine! But ......HOW DO I GET ON THE INTERNET TO DOWNLOAD THE SOFTWARE IF YOUR SOFTWARE WON’T LET ME GET ON THE INTERNET??????
This salient point seemed to stump the support group. I can see them all huddling around their one desk in someone’s small garage trying to answer that sublime question. Well, maybe they are in a basement rather than a garage, who knows?
So, let this be a warning to all that read this, don’t download the software known as K9 Web Protection! It may be fine for awhile, but it will turn on you and hold you in its slobbery jaws and never let go, and you will have no one to turn to for help. Whatever you do, don’t download this software.
So, now what do I do? I’ve called a friend - a different one than recommended this piece of dog doo, who is a professional IT man to see if he can eliminate this menace. Perhaps in another post, I’ll be able to report that I’m free of the malicious malware that K9 had unleashed on the world. Perhaps.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Joseph - the sequel
Last two nights! That’s right, everyone, there are only two more nights to catch the renowned performance of ‘Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat’ at the Civic Auditorium. The amazing cast have played their hearts out, singing and dancing to enthusiastic crowds who begged for more. Many visitors have compared this production to those seen in London and New York and have nothing but rave reviews for the show. If you haven’t ever seen the play, you owe it to yourself and your family to spend the meager eight dollars for a ticket and come see the theatrical event of the year. The cast has received standing ovations at every performance, so, I can guarantee you will be entertained far beyond the money you spend. Doors open at 6:30pm and curtain is at 7:30. See you there!
How's that for a nice plug? For those of you out of towners, private jets are standing by to accomodate your trip. Well, maybe not really private jets. Would you believe a Cessna 150 with bald tires and only one passenger seat? I think you best bet will be commercial airlines, actually.
Seriously, I would recommend this show to anyone who enjoys music. It is appropriate for all ages and music tastes. It is a great show with an excellent cast and chorus that will amaze you at their level of talent. And I would say that even if I wasn't in it. I'm pretty sure I would say that if I wasn't in it. Well, maybe being in it has shaded my objectivity a bit, but come and judge for youself. Just do it, you know you want to.
How's that for a nice plug? For those of you out of towners, private jets are standing by to accomodate your trip. Well, maybe not really private jets. Would you believe a Cessna 150 with bald tires and only one passenger seat? I think you best bet will be commercial airlines, actually.
Seriously, I would recommend this show to anyone who enjoys music. It is appropriate for all ages and music tastes. It is a great show with an excellent cast and chorus that will amaze you at their level of talent. And I would say that even if I wasn't in it. I'm pretty sure I would say that if I wasn't in it. Well, maybe being in it has shaded my objectivity a bit, but come and judge for youself. Just do it, you know you want to.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Allergies and other show biz stuff
I’m allergic to Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat! I know that seems ludicrous but it is absolutely true. The last time I played in ‘Joseph’, I contracted pneumonia just a few weeks following the close of the show. This year, I didn’t even wait to finish the show - I ended up getting pneumonia during the rehearsals. Now, what are the odds of getting pneumonia four years apart? And only when I’m involved with the play? I’ve performed in other plays and haven’t even had as much as a sniffle, and here I am near death with pneumonia while in the throws of rehearsals for ‘Joseph’. I would have to say the odds are overwhelming against this just being bad luck. My only conclusion is some kind of a weird, bizarre allergy. Perhaps it isn’t just the show, maybe it is an allergy to Andrew Lloyd Weber musicals. The only one I’ve performed in is Joseph and....well, you know the rest. Maybe it is too many flats in the score, or too many people on stage, or.......I don’t know what! But, it has something to do with this #$^%#& show.
I do know I’ll never do this play again!!! Actually, even before I was struck down with pneumonia, I knew this would be my last show. I’ve lost the fire. They are no longer fun, and when the fun is gone, there is no incentive to put up with all the hard work that goes with a play like ‘Joseph’. I’m done. This time, I was almost done in.
The regimen for treating pneumonia.....by the way, who came up with the spelling of that lousy illness? Couldn’t we spell it phonetically? And while we are at it, I’m guessing that the same bone head that came up with the spelling for pneumonia decided to spell phonetic as well. Shouldn’t phonetic be spelled phonetically....fonetically? Good grief!!!!!
But back to the treatment of pneumonia. I received a series of three shots, one every day, for three days. These are the first shots I’ve ever received that the nurse said, "This is going to hurt." And they did! The poke didn’t hurt, but after they had injected the molten lead, the pain, stinging, and aching started. And I got THREE of those bad boys. But, the good news is that I’m on the mend. I haven’t gone back to rehearsals yet...I’m a little gun shy....but I’ll try it on Wednesday. Too many coughs, though, and ‘The show must go on’ is going in a bucket out the back of the stage door!
I’ll keep you posted.
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