Guilty Pleasures

Right now, as I write this, I am listening to the oldies country station out of Albuquerque (god bless the internets!) and right now they are playing Michael Martin Murphy’s “Wildfire.”

And I have the volume cranked.

Man, I love that song.

LOVE it.

I’m certain that my neighbors, however, don’t.

That song is *such* a guilty pleasure.

Yesterday in the Safeway, Huey Lewis’ “If This Is It” was playing and I sang along (much to The Good Man’s dismay) as I shopped. Yes, by god, I love me some Huey Lewis and the News.

Speaking of not being one ounce of cool and singing in the Safeway, do ya’ll ever just break out and dance in the frozen foods aisle when a good song comes on?

Because grocery shopping is SO freaking boring! And hey, there you are, bored out of your skull, fighting off old folks and screaming kids, trying to decide between Cheetos and Doritos, and a tune that you love comes on and you GOT to shake that thang! Got to!

I’m just saying.

By the by, this post isn’t going to be about anything. After a week where I’ve talked about such heavy items as my dad, myself, baseball and my infected toe, how do you wrap all that up in a nice, tight bow?

Hell, I don’t know, I’m asking.

I use this blog tracking service that helps measure, ping, and drive traffic. As part of that service, people can review your blog. I find the reviews pretty helpful, actually.

As a matter of fact, I’m currently looking for a new layout as I get terrible scores in that category.

One reviewer wrote that my blog is a “…somewhat random commentary on life…”

So at first I was sort of offended by being called random.

Then I had to realize, they are actually right. This blog is very random (reference: dad, me, baseball, infected toe).

So I decided to embrace it.

Especially on days (like, ahem, today) when I am at a total loss for a blog topic.

So instead of thoughtful, insightful, meaningful, you get random dancing in the supermarket aisle.

Did I mention I like pie?

Back Up Gig

The morning team for my local sports radio is out in Scottsdale this week covering all the Spring Training fun.

This morning they observed the groundskeeper hosing down the infield and remarked that could be a possible fallback gig if this whole radio thing didn’t work out…

Hmmm….groundskeeper….not bad. I could pull that rake-boxey thing around the infield between innings. I could make those straight chalk lines. I could roll out that big ass tarp and unfurl it on the field. Yeeahhh.

I think I’ll add that to my list.

What list, you ask?

The list of “things that might pay less but would be a lot more fun” or also known as “what else I could do if this job doesn’t work out.”

You know, good, noble, hardworking gigs that don’t pay enough but also might let me sleep soundly at the end of the night.

Let’s see…what else might be on the list…

Rinse out girl at the hair salon. Sure, my hands would get a little worn out, but hey, all you gotta think about is lather, rinse, repeat.

Gate agent at the Kona International Airport. I think that explains itself.

Guy who stands there with a “slow” sign, waving traffic past a construction zone. Not that I want to actually *do* construction, just be that guy in the orange vest with the disaffected look waving at cars. I hear it pays pretty well!

Run the Ferris wheel at the amusement park. Sure, there is the occasional barfing incident, but mostly you bring people joy. Collect a ticket, strap ’em in and let centrifugal force do the rest.

Cocktail waitress at a Vegas casino. I may not have the legs for it anymore, so it might have to be one of those “off the strip” and rather dark casinos. But I could so wear a spangly dress and wander around saying “Drinks? Anyone need a drink? Drinks?” I imagine you meet some interesting folks with that gig.

Bartender. You know, back in my twenties, even though I had a pretty good office job, I often thought about going to bartender school so I’d have that as a backup. Bartending is more than pulling a tap and washing glasses if you do it right.

Of course, I’d want to be the kind of bartender who could make pretty much any drink you call out without looking at the book. It would be a point of pride. Good bartending is a lost art.

For a while, I thought I could be a Starbucks barista, but after hearing the tales from my New Mexico friend Natalie, I decided maybe not.

When I’d screw up at work, my boss at Sandia used to say I’d be perfect as slurpee machine maintenance man at the local 7-Eleven. Mainly because I’d matriculated at NMSU (as did he) I’m sure.

But being a 7-Eleven employee has often crossed my mind. In my early days in California, when my money was very tight, my local 7-Eleven had a sign up for a night clerk. I *seriously* considered applying.

Sure, it’s one of the most dangerous jobs you can have. But it’s not so bad, I think. You get to vend many of the most vital food groups in life like beef jerky, 40 ounce malt liquor and day old donuts. This is a key element of the running of our society in a smooth fashion!

Then there is always the ball washer at the local golf course (a job that sounds naughty but isn’t). If I also get to scuba dive in the water traps, that’s a TOTAL bonus!

Long haul trucker. Weirdly, that’s always appealed to me. I suppose that says something about my personality.

Anyhow…there’s a lot more on the list. This is but a sampling. But yup, I’m adding Spring Training ballpark groundskeeper.

I’d have to work my way up to nozzle girl, huh? I’d likely have to apprentice as hose holder first.

I suppose "they" are right sometimes

You know what “they” say?

They say when you have a blister filled with water, you shouldn’t pop it.

They say that water is protective. Keeps it from getting infected.

BAH! I say to they.

It’s no big deal. I pop my blisters all the time. I hate that poofy skin feeling.

I used to take ballet lessons (on toe) as a kid. I have worn many a cheap shoe in my life. I’ve had a lot of blisters.

I pop ’em all.

No big whoop.

On Sunday The Good Man and I went for a long walk out at a nearby nature preserve. I was wearing new shoes. I got a pretty big blister on my left ring toe. I popped it. Whatev.

It now has refilled itself. With gray-green pus.

Gross!

I hate it when “they” are right….

(Channeling my inner Russian grandmother. Betcha didn’t know I had one of those? But I do.)

“Why? Why, bubbie? Why did you pop that blister? You know what they say, don’t you? They say don’t pop blisters. Now they are going to have to cut your toe off! And put on a jacket!”

Every Holiday Needs a Song

You know Clinton and Bush(s)
and ‘Bama and Reagan
Carter and Kennedy
Ford and Nixon

But dooo you recaaaaalll
The most hated President of alllll?

Andrew Johnson, the first impeached president
Was not a really wonderful dude
And if you ever saw him
You would even say he blews (as a president)

All of the other parties
Used to laugh and call him names
The National Union Party
Never managed to hold any sway

Then one foggy April night
John Wilkes Booth came to say
Lincoln with your hat so tall
Won’t you go away?

Johnson was sworn in the next day
Now he’s the guy in charge
All his wishy-washy Confederate leanings
Crashed ahead on the country like a barge!

Two years later Johnson was impeached (unsuccessfully) for the first time. The next year, 1868, Congress made it stick, so buh bye Johnson.

He may not have done much with his time as commander in Chief.

But in his short rein, he did manage to buy Alaska.

Home of Mz. Palin and Republican grief.

So his legacy lives on……

Or, one might say….

Andrew Johnson, the first impeached president,
You’ll go down in history!

Photo and facts courtesy of the Andrew Johnson Wikipedia page.