Happy Black Friday!

I read President Abe Lincoln’s Thanksgiving Proclamation of 1864 this morning and am kind of in awe that it took 89 years to recognize and establish a federal holiday accepting the now traditional day of thanks established by the Pilgrims and their native neighbors. Other presidents gave annual proclamations of thanks but good ol’ Abe gave us a day off.

What’s also awe inspiring, and curious, is the language used. I don’t think I’ve ever used ‘vouchsafing’ in a sentence before but I’m adapting it into my regular vocabulary. Good enough for Abe, good enough for me. Yes, I call him Abe because he and I were that close.

“It has pleased Almighty God to prolong our national life another year, defending us with His guardian care against unfriendly designs from abroad and vouchsafing to us in His mercy many and signal victories over the enemy, who is of our own household.”

Unfriendly designs from a broad? Who was this guy, Nostradamus? 

Signal victories over the enemy, who is of our own household? Did Abe know of my future dishwasher and toaster-oven woes? (You really have to read all the posts to keep up folks - nudge, nudge, wink, wink.)

My buddy Abe dideth proclaimeth “… a return of the inestimable blessings of peace, union, and harmony throughout the land …"

https://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/documents/proclamation-118-thanksgiving-day-1864

It’s a good read folks but I’m not here to speak of proclamations, I’m here to speak of Fridays, specifically dark Fridays, so dark we’ve colored them black. I can remember a time when Fridays were Good (despite the connection to gruesome yet Holy death). I can remember a time when we thanked God for Fridays, back before we franchised it into mediocre appetizers and entrees delivered by overly-flared waitstaff wishing they were as attractive and successful as Jennifer Aniston (Office Space - classic movie reference). 

Now Friday is just the bleak beginning to the holiday rush which draws black ink into the ledgers of retail chains who routinely operate in the red. Friday’s overwhelming darkness is so dark it has crept all the way into Thanksgiving Thursday. The afore-mentioned federally recognized day of blessings-countings is being consumed by the ebony teeth of consumerism.

The local mall has chosen to open its doors this Thanksgiving evening to get a head start over other outlets in the quest to swallow your wallet like a black hole swallows a planet.

And what has all this got to do with Invasive Maneuvers?

Well, our young daughter, who is still in recuperative phase from her previous surgical invasion, will be missing the family dinner in order to feed the blackened panther which preys upon our need to save while overspending. She will be working at that mall in her black apron (almost nearly all black) handing out sweets like the witch in Hansel and Gretel, luring unsuspecting patrons into the dark ovens of the retail abyss.  

For goodness sake! Don’t be tempted. It’s a trick. Don’t take her candy. Don’t go into the light! (Beware, another movie reference!) I vouchsafe that it is not safe!

Black Friday is upon us! “Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.” (Even worse a literary reference, ugh!)

Happy Thanksgiving!

And, Happy Black Shopping Till You're Dropping Day!

Recipes for Disasters

Mandatory listening this week: The Eagles – The Last Resort “… you call someplace Paradise, kiss it goodbye …”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-VIIUlbJaKg

Prayers go out to all those affected by the California fires.

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Thanksgiving is coming up so I’m going to get political for a second. Wait. What? That isn’t that what Thanksgiving is all about. Just what we usually turn it into.

This is absolutely a non-political blog so don’t click away, this isn’t really political. I’m just offering up some food for thought to put beside your turkey and stuffing. I’m not going to go all crazy uncle on you…or am I?

Ponder this: No one who was in harm’s way asked the nurse who drove his pickup truck back into Paradise, CA to save his hospital patients if he was a democrat or republican. If you haven’t read that story please go do it now. I’ll wait …..

https://twitter.com/jacknicas/status/1062162154906742784?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1062162154906742784&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Ftwitchy.com%2Fgregp-3534%2F2018%2F11%2F13%2Fmeet-the-badass-nurse-who-drove-his-toyota-pickup-truck-back-into-paradise-to-rescue-patients%2F

Fantastic, isn’t it?

Think about all the other helpers out there. If you’re in need and someone shows up to help – police, fire, medical – I don’t think anyone is going to interrogate these folks before they help them to make sure they have the same views on the issue of the day. Or even the more mundane. Do we need to know how the cashier voted before she rings us up? Do we need to know the political views of the person handing out samples at Costco before we clog the aisle and cut in line to grab the last sliver of a pastry puff?

We are all alike. Please give thanks that while we can be worlds apart on some issues we are universally together in our blessings. Seriously, if we concentrate more on our collective blessings rather than our miniscule differences we may enjoy each other’s company a bit more.

This Thanksgiving don’t be the desperado. “… it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table, but you only want the ones that you can’t get.” – Desperado, The Eagles

Here’s Linda Rondstadt’s outstanding version:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ebL-6-fGJl0

Even the math-challenged can count their blessings.

That’s it, politics aside (and soapbox and pulpit), now let’s get into important topics.

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Our evergreen after going 12 rounds
with Old Man Winter

Speaking of blessings, we were blessed with barely a week of Autumn weather before Old Man Winter woke up from his Rumplestiltskin-esque nap and clobbered us like he was a young, spry prize fighter. An ice storm and January temperatures have taken hold and we’ve been told to get used to them. It almost makes me want to pack up and move to Florida, but I don’t think I can adjust to another state that doesn’t know how to count. At least I haven’t heard the phrase “hanging chad” yet. And, I’m not talking about Miami Beach speedos. Get it? Hanging Chad, speedos - yuk, yuk and ewe, did he really go there? Millenials, please google 'hanging chad' for bad joke reference.

That’s about as political as I get around here – bad jokes. You folks get enough political speak 24/7/365. This blog is here is to help you escape from that alternate reality. This is what’s really real!

And by real I mean, where else do you hear about real trust issues?

Poll question:

If you don’t trust your dishwasher to wash the dishes for you so you wash them before you place them in the machine, should you:

1. Get a new dishwasher – knowing it won’t change your methods?
2. Get rid of current dishwasher and use space to store more kitchen gadgets you don’t need?
3. Go full disposable/recyclable since you don’t really cook anyway?
4. Seek counseling for your trust issues?
5. All of the above except the one that doesn’t make sense combining with the others?

I’m glad we got that sorted out. Now we can talk about toaster ovens? In this house we are keeping the entire toaster oven industry humming. We go through toaster ovens faster than most people go through a bag of Pringles.

Ha! Almost got you.

We all know Pringles come in a cardboard can. How did the aluminum industry let that happen? And why don’t we open a can of Pringles the same way we open a cardboard can of Pillsbury biscuits? It’s not like you’re not going to finish the can in one sitting. (Grammar police start your double negative investigation now.) Pop’n’fresh Pringles has a nice ring. (I really need to charge for all the free advertising here.) And, there’s no need to pop ‘em into a toaster oven like those biscuits.

The toaster oven is the true workhorse of our kitchen. Why fire up the range when you can heat up the countertop device in less than half the time? Plus, we keep on getting bigger devices in an effort to make the real oven completely obsolete. We can get rid of that major appliance too, along with the dishwasher. Imagine the extra gadget space! Are you imagining right now? I am.

The box for this new one says it will fit a large pizza and a whole hog. Or, something like that. Advertiser’s claims are about as reliable as politicians’ promises (Hey you, I said no politics). According to the packaging, this device, which in reality barely holds two whole slices of medium-sized bread, claims to be able to fit that previously mentioned large pizza. Large meaning, not bigger than an infant’s hand.

Warning!: Do Not stick your infant’s hand into the oven to measure!

This big little machine can also convection! Ooh, ah! No one is really sure what that means but I’m sure it’s there to confuse you when reading recommended cooking times. Honey, I’m trying to roast a pig and the package says 12 hours at 225°, so with the convection setting I can set at 250° for an hour, right?

Please note: the manufacturer’s warranty is void if you attempt to roast a pig carcass without the optional walk-in rotisserie attachment.  There goes my gadget space.

All this because we prefer to routinely try to burn down our lovely abode with a cheap cooking device rather than wait for the oven to heat up. Yes, we’ve had several flare-ups! Don’t tell my insurance agent, his level of trust in these devices is about equal to Renee’s trust in the dishwasher.

Happy Thankgiving! And, despite internet recipes for cooking a 20 lb. turkey in the microwave, please don’t, that’s what your toaster oven is for. 

Uncommon Nuisance

I’m glad to say our household has achieved normalcy once more. Cassidy, who was reticent to have surgery, is near full recovery. She is simply awaiting stitches to dissolve. She is now cleared to embark on other adventures of a more recreational nature, hopefully without the worries of abdominal distress.

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This weekend marks our annual celebration of those who served our country in the armed forces. I for one could not be more grateful to those who have literally and dangerously stepped forward in defense of this nation. 

My father, pictured below, was one of those who was welcomed into adulthood by screaming Army sergeants trying to mold Depression era high school graduates into fighting machines. He dodged bullets on the beaches of France. He slogged through the Battle(s) of the Bulge and plowed together with General Patton to Germany to stop a menace which too few now remember.

I think of my Dad often and the horrors he witnessed and the hardships he endured. I juxtapose that against his picture here and the "Love Johnnie" message. This is the man and the smile I remember. He never showed me the other man he had to be while wearing that uniform.   

My Dad and the brave reluctant heroes who saw their friends die beside them by the hundreds and thousands, came back home to raise families, to go to work. They were dealing daily with real trauma beyond my and most of our comprehension.

Each day our WWII vets battled the internal demons of that war which would never leave them. Each day they rose and did what they needed to do to be productive members of this society. Others saw the same in Korea, Vietnam, Kuwait, Afghanistan, Iraq and in battles around the globe. They too carry with them the horrors of war. I salute them all and those who are serving today.

This is a snippet from a song I wrote years ago:

The spoils of the war

Were tucked away in an attic drawer

But he never once spoke of the enemy he saw.

Just another hero of The Bulge

He taught me never to divulge

What you see, what you hear, and what you’re carrying within ….

Dear Vets, may God bless you all, and may the weight of your carriage be lightened by our sincere gratitude for your service.   

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On a lighter note:

While reading the news this morning I found out that “maintaining a common nuisance” is a crime in Indiana. Some malicious and thieving deviants were arrested and charged with various offenses and one of them was charged with the crime above. 

At first, I thought I may have to avoid the state to the north due to my nuisance-like behavior with this blog, but it turns out that since I’m not carrying controlled substances while doing it, I have nothing to fear when visiting the Hoosier state. I have also checked with my legal counsel and found I am more of an uncommon nuisance and could therefore easily beat the rap if so charged.

Whew! What a relief.  I’d hate to run afoul of the law while reporting to you the maneuvers of my curious clan - which are in no way to be confused or connected to the klan of the above-mentioned deviants.  

We are an all-loving, all-inclusive blog here.

Have a great weekend! And, please, go thank a Veteran.

Biorythms

We move holidays around here willy-nilly. Threat of rain and the annual sugarfest was launched a day early in Louisville. Strange because Fall is falling late this year. 

I know it’s November but this Van Morrison October delight is still the best Autumnal tribute I know. Fantabulous! [Sorry about the ad.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lFxGBB4UGU

Halloween, now's that's some real corporate welfare. We designed a whole day around giving out stuff we know is bad for us just to support the candy manufacturers. And don’t pretend you didn’t save the best stuff for yourself. I know you’ve got a stash hidden somewhere in that house. You turned the porch light off a bit early hoping that trick-or-treaters would slide by thinking you’re not home so don’t have to dish it out your Chunky bars to the beggars.  

No stash for me, I just wished I could have found a house handing out full pints of chocolate porter, instead, “I got a rock!” Cheers anyway!

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On a side note: (Ooh, I like these side notes, especially when they fall right in the middle.) 

Do any of you remember what you were doing ninety-three years ago? I know at least one person who does, although she is only twenty-nine (that’s Kentucky math folks). I don’t know how she does it but at her age if she wants to be 29 she can be. She was born in the Roaring 20’s, lived through the Depression, World War II, World War III (better known as raising six kids) and has survived 40 years past the absolute worst thing to happen in this world, the Disco Era. She can choose to be any damn age she wants. Whenever anyone was bold enough to ask her age, she replied, “29.” So that what she is and that’s all you need to know about that. Happy Birthday, Mom!   

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Recovery and recuperation, R&R, that’s also what it is all about. The patient, Cassidy – remember this is a post about Cassidy and her gall bladder surgery - has done well this week and is nearly back to her normal routine.  The follow-up with the Doc was all good. “Ahead of schedule,” he said. Me, (using my best Foghorn Leghorn voice) “A fine, I say, a fine kettle of fish.”  

Cassidy threw a wrench into that family tradition established by Renee and decided not to stay extra in the hospital. In fact, we slid her into the car while her head was still bobbing from anesthesia. Not kidding, I kind of got the feeling the nurse was trying to get rid of us. I told you about the post-op Ralph episode which was a slight delay, but as soon as Cassidy could open her eyes and meekly answer, “I guess so,” when asked, “do you want go home?” Renee and the nurse were stuffing her into her street clothes and dropping her into a wheelchair, orderly at the ready.  

During the follow-up Halloween morning, I got nothing from the surgeon except they confirmed there were stones in the bladder, using medical terminology. I saw right through his act and asked him anatomy questions, especially that one about Cassidy having a different anatomy which he shared right after surgery. A bit stoic in his answer, “oh no big deal, we all have somewhat different anatomies.” Yea, I get it doc, we’re all different, blah, blah, blah. But, will Cassidy’s different anatomy, which is only different because we’re all different (eyes rolling), going to leave her with other health issues because she’s just a bit different than the rest of us are different? Following? Quick answer, “no,” responded the doc, to the issues part, not your following part.

How about adhesions, doc? Her mother is susceptible to them – internal scarring which can choke other organs. Laparoscopy surgery, he said, so adhesions should not be an issue in the future. Once those four little holes heal - well three little holes and one not as little where they sucked an entire internal organ through - and the stitches dissolve, there should be no complications.

So Cassidy is now back to work. We had a quiet Halloween night due to trick or treating being moved to the previous night and the only thing even remotely invasive that happened is … me nearly getting run over by a deer.

Huh?

Did he just say he nearly got run over by a deer? Why yes, I believe he did.

Most folks have deer encounters in their vehicles, not me.

Yep, whilst sitting and reading upon my front porch Halloween near dusk, one of those previously mentioned vehicles stops abruptly in front of the house avoiding said deer who decided to cross the road without looking both ways. The deer then, freaked out by the car, picks up speed, and heads down my sloped lawn pointed directly at me at top speed.

This deer, a doe, a female deer, chose at the last possible second to make a hard left a mere hair before barreling into my armed only with a Kindle self. You can still see the hoof prints in the mulch if you care to come and look. She headed to my backyard and the safety of the woods beyond. I headed for my bedroom and the safety of a clean pair of shorts.

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The big doe on the left, I think that's her.

It’s time to go now, I’ve got to participate in the semi-annual Festival of Time Confusion. I love these two days each year we Americans try to convince ourselves that we can manage the rotation of the earth by changing hands on the clock.  We are all-powerful. We will show you Earth!

This is not about farmers needing more time to harvest crops or other nonsensical reasons you have heard since you were babes in the cornfields, it is about power. Human beings have this strange need to try to control things which they know they cannot. I will say one thing about this, I enjoy the Daylight Savings Time where the sunset occurs an hour later than Standard Time. Why don’t we just adapt Daylight Savings time as the new standard? Please write your Congress-person (it was an act of Congress which instituted this six-month foray into useless time management) and let them know we need to stop the disruption to our biometric rhythms twice a year just so they can feel the power over time. This ad was brought to you by me and I support my position.

Now excuse me as I go immerse myself in two months of bad Christmas movies and 24/7 worse-than-bad Christmas tunes. Happy November!