Thursday, March 5th, 2009
This is a very exciting day for our family. Let me be the first person to broadcast this message worldwide – my nephew, Connor, won 3rd place in the Pinewood Derby. Isn’t that just cool?
You know, I used to be in the Cub Scouts too. I don’t think I can remember too much of it at this point in my life, but I do remember participating in the Pinewood Derby a few times. I can clearly recall not winning any races, but if there is any really exciting activity that Cub Scouts do, the derby is it. Well, besides camping up at Camp Siwanoy in Wingdale, NY. That camp closed, by the way. You can read about it here.
From what I can gather, the Pinewood Derby is all set up these days. They have computerized racing stats, electronic finish lines and all that sort of stuff. When I was racing in the Pinewood Derby, we had some old man yelling “Winner” at the prettiest car that went by. Not really, but you get the picture.
Ready for some Pinewood Derby pictures?
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Connor’s Pinewood Derby car
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The fellas watching their Pinewood Derby race
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Nice selection of Pinewood Derby cars
Has it really been that long? As I sit here, I keep trying to think of what my Pinewood Derby cars look like. I have no idea. The only thing I remember is that my father drilled a hole in the back of one of them, put some BBs in the hole and then stuck an ear plug in there to seal it up. The car may have been too heavy for the regulations, but that was the right idea.
If I had it to do all over again, I would have a serious car. I’m telling you, a serious car.
Anyway, congrats Connor!!!
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Friday, February 20th, 2009
I think this is going to be the second and last part of my “Complaining about the Internet” series. I just need to get this one out there.
Have you ever heard of Twitter? If so, you’ll know what I am talking about here. If not, I’ll explain what it is to you. Basically, Twitter is a website that allows you to post very short updates on the happenings of your life. It can go something like this…”I have my hand stuck in the toilet.” You can post as many updates as you would like all day long if you want to. People who follow your Twitter feed can stay updated on how many times you get your hand stuck in the toilet during the day. It’s marvelous.
I hope I am describing the service correctly; I have never actually used it.
Just because I haven’t used Twitter, doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it. Please, let me know if the following is annoying to you too.
The other day, I was watching the news or something like it. Maybe it was one of those news shows, I’m not sure. There was a fascinating story on about how a few surgeons were operating on someone and another doctor was Twittering the goings on of the operation. I didn’t think too much of it at the moment. Then, later that day, I started thinking more about it. I asked myself, “Self, why was a doctor Twittering about an operation as it was in progress?” I began having strange thoughts and my mind started to wander. I must confess, I got annoyed for a while. I finally calmed down and tried to look at the plus side of the whole thing.
Let’s look at the “goods” of Twittering during an operation:
1. Comfort – a family can sit around a computer or a mobile phone reading “Tweets” about their loved one’s operation.
2. Informed – The world can get a first hand look at what goes on during an operation.
3. Progress – The doctors and hospital can glow in the limelight of their cutting-edge technology.
4. Contact – Everyone can be proud of themselves that we no longer need to have any amount of human contact.
Today, I watched the White House press conference for a few minutes. I got to the part where the Press Secretary said, “I find it humorous how many press releases have gone out and how much Twitter activity has gone on about…” I had to stop watching. Are you serious?
Okay, I love technology just as much as the next guy, but at what point do we implant “Borg-like” cybernetic enhancements on the sides of our heads and call it a day?
I thought it was great when email arrived on the scene. What a time saver. Then, when I could read the news online, I was thrilled. When I could finally keep up with friends and families through their blogs, I just loved it. When people started broadcasting every heartbeat that occurs inside their chest cavities, I thought the line was crossed.
I tend to think that this modern computer age is a “tool” to assist us in our “real lives.” Did you read that? A “tool” to “assist” us in our “real lives.” I might be over-quoting here, but I believe we are headed towards a place that is quite the opposite of what I just said. It’s going to be like, “Oh man, I have to go out in the sunshine today? Can’t I just twist the knob on the side of my skull and relay all my thoughts to everyone who belongs to the collective? Well, if I must go outside, I am going to need some sunglasses.”
Exercise? Family time? Conversation? Hiking? Looking someone in the eyes? I don’t think so folks…I’ll just go to YouTube and watch a video of someone else exercising, email my family about what I did today, use Skype to have a face-to-face conversation, get a treadmill and call it a hike and email someone a picture of me. I think that about covers it.
As I am finishing up this post and re-reading it, I am seeing a theme among this post and my prior one about Facebook. It appears that I get most agitated at the constant updating of our lives. With my blog, I write every so often to give you folks some information about me. I do it with thought and care. I plan it, write it and then proof read it. I don’t do it randomly and I certainly don’t do it 30 times a day.
Let’s go back to the Tweet, “I have my hand stuck in the toilet.” I think many of us might ask, “Who cares?” Seriously, “W-h-o c-a-r-e-s?”
To think, I thought I was alone. This guy sums it up nicely.
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Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009
I am going to tell you a little story. Yeah, I thought you would appreciate that, especially since things have been a little dry around here lately. First, I must apologize for not offering any photos of the occasion. Laura has been swearing to me that she took pictures of the whole thing and that I have them somewhere. I don’t know what she is talking about. I can’t find them and I have no recollection of taking them. The best I can do is to paint a mental picture for you, because trust me, the mental picture I have is very vivid.
Okay, let’s go.
A long, long time ago (about 5 years), we lived in a small lake cottage a few blocks from a small lake in New York. It was a tiny, but cute rental. We lived there for three fairly uneventful years. I can still remember the night we arrived at this particular house. We had just driven 5 hours from all the way up in Naples, NY and were totally beat. About an hour before we arrived at the house, I was forced to stop short in the middle of the road while driving the huge moving truck I had rented. I was sitting there with my eyes wide open, reading the big sign on an overpass in front of me that read, “Maximum Height – 11′9″.” Unfortunately, I was driving a truck that was 12′3″. I guess that wouldn’t have been all too bad if I wasn’t towing my car on one of those two wheeled tow dollies. With all those pivot points, backing up wasn’t an option. Even better, I was facing downhill and it was pitch black outside. Let’s just say that it took a good long time to get that situation squared away and there were some mildly annoyed fellow drivers. It was not one of my best memories. I can only imagine how many times I was called an “idiot” that night.
Anyway, we eventually made it to the house, which was good. We parked the truck on the road and slept the night away, only to unpack the next day. Things were fine for about two years.
It was a beautiful sunny spring day. I was walking out to my car on my way to work when I turned around to check out the house, like I always do. It’s just a habit of mine. Well, on this particular day, everything looked fine, except for that small hole in the corner of an attic vent that was facing the street. It was up near the peak of the roof on the front of the house. I thought to myself that I had never really noticed that hole before, but was pretty sure that it had always been like that. Besides, this was a rental; it wasn’t my place to give daily inspections of the building’s exterior. I went to work and forgot all about it.
Upon returning home that evening, I did my thing inside and then grabbed a beer. I remember having no shirt on and walking to the mailbox to get the mail. Just as I got about half way across the front yard, a pickup truck rolled down the road and stopped right in front of me. The guy opened his passenger side window and starts telling me something in an excited kind of way. “Hey man, you got a raccoon living in your attic,” he said. I replied with a, “What?” “Yeah, I was driving down the road this afternoon and I saw a huge raccoon crawling through the little hole in your vent. I have no idea how she got in there because the hole is so small, but I sat here for a good 10 minutes watching her. She finally got through after a while,” he replied. I said thank you and started devising a plan on how to patch up that hole in the vent. I mean seriously, how hard can it be to keep a giant raccoon out of your attic?
Well, let me just tell you that it is a little trickier than one would think.
Before the kind fellow with the pickup truck even made it to the corner of the street, I already had the mail in my hand and was walking across the backyard looking for a piece of plywood. I was going to cut it to size and screw it to the 2″x4″ beams from inside the attic.
Picture this – standing on a table in your living room to push open a small trap door that leads up to a tiny attic in a tiny lake cottage. That’s really not that bad. Now, picture doing this while thinking that an enormous raccoon is sitting up in that attic just waiting to see the whites of your eyes. It’s a little unnerving. The problem was, I had no idea if the raccoon was up there or not. It was the early evening, so I was hoping she was out gathering some food. You know, just as I began pushing that little trap door open, I remembered that I did hear some strange noises a few nights earlier coming from up above me. I just chalked it up to some branches hitting the roof or something.
Laura was in the living room holding my legs as I jimmied up through the trap door. You should have seen my head whipping around in every direction I could think of. There were no lights up there and I was totally freaking out. As every second passed by, I kept expecting to hear a “whoosh” and have 20 claws and something furry attach to my face. As it turned out, the raccoon wasn’t even up there. She must have been outside doing something. I shined the flashlight that Laura handed me all over the place and saw nothing, so I slipped through the hole in the ceiling to screw the piece of plywood over the vent at the front of the house. I was totally confident that this raccoon wouldn’t get through this rock solid piece of wood and that our little raccoon problem was solved.
That night, around midnight, I heard a “bang, bang.” I woke up and started looking around. I walked to the front of the house and heard, “scratch, bang bang.” I really had no idea what in the world was going on, but my adrenaline was pumping and I was ready for anything. I kept hearing this noise as I was standing at the front door and it was coming from above my head. I walked back into the bedroom to grab the flashlight. I opened the front door and walked out to the front yard. As I shined the flashlight up towards the roof, I immediately saw two beady little eyes staring at me. Apparently, the raccoon was trying to scratch, rip, tear and push her way through the vent to get back inside the attic. I stood there in disbelief.
I went back inside to get some clothes on. I kept wondering why in the world this raccoon wouldn’t let this go. Why was she being so stubborn? I went back outside and started yelling at the raccoon, in an attempt to scare her away. All she did was look at me and continued to try to get through the vent. At this point, I was getting annoyed and wanted to end this adventure. I walked to the back porch, grabbed the garden hose and hooked it up. I turned it on and dragged it to the front yard. Now, Laura was standing there and was manning the flashlight. I started spraying the raccoon with the water and she ran across the roof towards the back of the house. I looked at Laura and gave her a smile. No raccoon was going to ruin my beauty sleep. We went back inside to crawl back under the covers.
About 10 minutes later, I heard the same “bang, bang, bang” and sprung to my feet. I am not even going to tell you what we did, because it’s basically a repetition of what we did just 10 minutes before. This time, I went outside and chased the raccoon all over the place, but she just kept trying to get back in that vent. I had enough. I really didn’t know what to do, so we went back inside and lay awake for the rest of the night.
When it was light out again, I went outside to see what kind of damage the raccoon did to the vent. There were a few more cracks in it, but nothing too drastic. I didn’t see the raccoon anywhere, so I held out hope that what we did to her the night before taught her a lesson. If she didn’t want to experience getting sprayed by a hose again, she would find a new home.
I went back inside, got ready for work and left.
That evening, when I got home from work, I found the house and vent exactly as I had left it. I felt very happy that I beat the raccoon at her own game. Laura and I sat around until it got dark, chatted a bit and decided that I would go out to grab some Chinese food to celebrate. You know, it’s the little things in life.
I will remember this conversation for the rest of my days. As I was getting out of the car in the Chinese food place parking lot down the road, my phone started ringing. The caller ID said, “Home” on it, which surprised me. Laura never called my cell phone from home. I answered the phone and I was greeted by a flustered female voice telling me that something was screaming up in the attic. It was Laura and she was jumping from one thought to the next. She said that either we had 20 birds up in the attic, or there were BABY RACCOONS!!! Holy man oh man. Baby raccoons? No wonder that lady raccoon was trying to get back in the attic so badly. I ran into the Chinese restaurant, paid for the food and ran back out to drive home faster than I was supposed to. I figured I should still get the food, even during a time of crisis.
When I pulled in the driveway and got out of the car, I heard a faint squealing. As I got closer and eventually entered the house, the squealing got louder. When I stood in the middle of the living room, the squealing was really loud and right above my head. I put my hands to my face and wondered what in the world I was going to do. It was dark outside and I was really tired from getting no sleep the night before. One thing was for sure; I wasn’t going to live through another night of that momma raccoon banging on the side of the house. Add the squealing of hungry baby raccoons in the attic, and I was ready to move out.
Within a few minutes, I had devised a plan. I would go outside, climb up on the roof and pull the vent down. Then, I would go up in the attic and unscrew the piece of plywood that was blocking the mother raccoon from getting to her babies. This way, the big raccoon would be able to get in the attic to feed her babies and they would shut up. Also, she wouldn’t need to tear at the vent any longer and I would get a good night’s sleep.
I informed Laura that we were going to be getting into some hairy stuff here, so she better be at her finest. She was going to man the garden hose. I walked around to the back of the house, grabbed the step ladder and the hose and brought both up to the front of the house. I handed Laura the hose. She already had the flashlight in her hand. Her job was to spray the mother raccoon if she showed up while I was pulling off the vent. Her other job was to shine the flashlight at what I was working on, so I could see what I was going. It was quite dark up on that roof.
I climbed up on top of the porch and pointed out what I wanted Laura to shine the light at and she did. I began working the vent off the front of the house, while constantly looking below me to see if the mother raccoon was climbing up the porch beams. If I saw the raccoon climbing up, I was going to throw myself off the roof. I know, I know…not a good plan, but I had limited options. Plus, my heart was beating a mile a minute.
Things were going pretty well. I was tugging on the vent and talking to Laura at the same time. I said, “Do you see any sign of the raccoon?” She replied with a, “No.” I was a bit neurotic that night, so I kept on asking Laura if she saw the raccoon. She kept answering, “No” and I was sensing a little annoyance in her voice. I didn’t care, because she wasn’t the one on the roof who was going to get tackled by a crazy raccoon who was trying to protect her young.
I was almost finished getting the vent off the front of the house and I heard the faintest scratch above my head. I shot a glare down at Laura who was standing there pointing the flashlight at me and holding a garden hose. She looked so cute; poor kid. I said in the quietest voice ever, “Sweet doll, please shine the flashlight above my head.”
She did.
I slowly looked up.
About a foot above my head was the mother of all mother raccoons, staring right into my eyes. She was standing on the peak of the roof above me. “HOLY FREAKING MOTHER,” I screamed. Luckily, I had a bit of wit about me and I ran for the ladder instead of jumping off the roof. I climbed down the ladder at record speed and ran to the front lawn to stand next to Laura. I had to jump up and down to shed some of the shakes and adrenaline off of me. “MAN,” I started saying, as we watched the raccoon climb down to inspect the vent. “I have to get that vent off of there or we are never going to hear the end of this,” I said to Laura.
New plan – Laura would spray the raccoon to keep her away from me as I finished getting the vent down. She did and I did. The vent was off. You should have seen that raccoon trying to get to that vent while I was working on it though. Laura showed her good aim that night.
The next thing I had to do was to go up in the attic and unscrew the plywood I put up the day before. This was going to be a little trickier because now I knew there were going to be animals up in that attic with me, as well as a fully grown raccoon on the other side of that plywood.
I crawled up into the attic again. I had my screw gun and a flashlight and was ready to go to work. I made my way to the front of the house, while constantly looking around for those baby raccoons. I didn’t have any idea how big they were, so I was pretty nervous. When I got all the way up to the plywood, I heard some sounds coming from my left, under the overhang of the roof. I shined the flashlight over there, but didn’t see anything. I grabbed a piece of scrap wood that was laying on the floor and pushed some insulation away from the beams. Right then and there, I saw four of the cutest little raccoon heads pop up and look at me. I don’t think they wanted the light shining in their faces, but seeing them sitting there changed the whole dynamic of what I was doing. I softened up and my mission turned from one of war to one of rescue. They looked so helpless. Since they weren’t about to go anywhere and obviously weren’t any threat to me, I started slowly unscrewing the plywood.
(The above video is not of the actual baby raccoons, but of imposters.)
As I was almost finished with the last screw, I lost my silly little grin. I remembered the beast sitting on the other side of the wall with a very determined mindset. I knew what I had to do.
I held the plywood hard against the beams and finished taking out the screw. I held the screw gun in my hand and picked up the flashlight with the same hand. The plan was to move as far as I could away from the board, while still holding it. Then, I was going to run and jump through the hole in the floor back to the living room. After that, I was going to slide the trap door board back over the hole, so the beast couldn’t follow me down through the ceiling.
If you have never seen a grown man scream like a little girl and run across about 15 beams of an unfinished attic and jump through a hole in the floor, you are a lucky person. If you are that grown man, you’re not so lucky. After I jumped through the hole, I landed on the table and slipped off it to land on the floor (on my back). I had to quickly scurry up to put that board back in place before we had one extra mammal living with us. I got the board back in place and ran outside to see if the raccoon went through the hole.
Apparently, Laura had the same idea and gave me a full report as I met her on the front lawn. She said that the minute I let that board down, the raccoon flew through the hole. I remember standing there and how good I felt. It was like I just won the lottery. Then, I remember thinking about how we now had five raccoons in the attic instead of just one. It felt like someone just took all my lottery money away from me.
It was time for a real plan…a plan that would solve the problem.
Laura used to work with animals and had access to really heavy duty animal handling gloves. They were about three feet long and about a half inch thick. These gloves were meant to hold down a mountain lion. If the mountain lion bit, you probably wouldn’t feel it. Okay, you would feel it, but the teeth wouldn’t go through your arm. Okay, maybe they would, but these gloves were really heavy duty.
My plan was to wait until mid afternoon when the mother raccoon was out for the day. Then, I would go up into the attic and screw the piece of plywood back to cover up the gaping vent hole. I would capture each baby raccoon and put them into a cat carrier that we had hanging around. After that, put the cat carrier outside and just wait for momma to come back.
That was the plan and I must say that I executed it perfectly the next day. I think the worst part was that the attic was about 150 degrees then and moving the insulation around covered my bare top half with sweat and fiberglass. It was pretty terrible.
You really should have seen it. I was like a professional animal handler. With the exposed baby raccoons looking at me and the cat carrier open and ready to hold the animals, it was show time. I put the gloves on and started reaching back into the corner of the attic. I grabbed the first baby raccoon and put it in the carrier. You should really see the claws on these raccoons. They are very long and really stick on everything they touch. I can only imagine wrestling with a full grown one. No thank you.
The first three raccoons went into the carrier without incident. The fourth one gave me a little problem. I am assuming that this last raccoon was the big brother of the bunch, because he kept trying to go deeper and deeper into the corner of the attic. He was hissing and being very aggressive. Eventually, he saw things my way and was placed into the cat carrier with the rest of his siblings. Another thing you should have seen was how much fun I had while trying to place each baby raccoon into the cat carrier while there was already one in there. Each time I opened the carrier door, the raccoon that was in there tried to climb out. It was crazy.
After I got the last little devil in the carrier, I beamed a great big smile. I kept the plywood over the vent hole, picked up the carrier and slid through the hole in the ceiling to enter the living room. I walked the carrier outside and sat it down in the shade at the side of the house. I kept the carrier locked, because I didn’t want any baby raccoons walking around without the protection of their mother.
I am sure you can imagine the excitement on Laura’s face when she got home from work that day and I showed her a cage full of baby raccoons. I’m not sure which she was excited more about, not having to deal with the “raccoons in the attic” issue any longer or getting an up close look at these little cuties. She asked what I was going to do with them. I answered that I was going to leave them there just like they were and wait until the mother raccoon returned to get them. We were certain she would be back.
A few hours passed and we were watching TV in the bedroom when we heard something outside tampering with the cat carrier. We ran out there to see what was going on. Well, low and behold, the mother raccoon was tossing the cat carrier around, trying to get it open. She wanted to get at those babies badly. I tried to walk over to open the carrier, but the mother raccoon lunged at me. Okay, obviously our mutual understanding of not harming one another was over. We were enemies once again.
Since I wanted to get this ordeal behind us and I wanted this raccoon family to reunite, I ran to the back of the house again to grab the hose. I came back and handed it to Laura again, with the same instructions. “Spray the raccoon while I open the carrier,” I said. Laura started spraying the raccoon and she backed up into the neighbor’s driveway. Each time I went over to attempt to open the carrier, the raccoon ignored the water and lunged at me. Laura had to keep getting closer to spray the mother raccoon harder. Eventually, I got the cage open and took off. Big momma ran in there and grabbed the first baby. She raced up the willow tree across the street and placed the baby in a “V.” Laura and I walked inside to give her some peace and privacy.
About five minutes later, we walked back outside to see if the mother got any more babies. We were surprised to see an empty cat carrier sitting on the ground. Man, she was fast. We would be resting easy that night.
The next morning, I walked across the street and looked up into the “V” where the raccoons were placed and noticed four small heads looking down at me. What a sight.
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Wednesday, December 17th, 2008
There are a few things in life no one wants to talk about.
Of course I am not going to mention what they are here, because they will only depress me and will probably do the same to you. Included in the list, but really shouldn’t be, is one thing that I don’t think is depressing at all. It’s the topic of having a will.
You might think it’s strange that I bring this up and wonder why I’m talking about it at all, but the reason will become obvious after the next sentence. Just the other day, Laura and I met with the attorney to create two wills.
I know, I know…I debated for days about whether or not I was even going to bring this up, but I decided to talk about it tonight because I began recalling all the “will” conversations I have had in the past ten years. I think that just about everyone I spoke to about it said something like, “Oh yeah, I have to do that” or “Ummm, I really need to update mine.” There wasn’t anyone who said, “Yup, all done. Nice and tidy.”
I guess the reason why many people don’t have a will at all is probably the same reason I never went about getting one. As I put it to the lawyer, “This has been sitting on my to-do list for about a year now and I am just getting around to it.” It’s really not one of those “must do” things in life. It’s more of one of the “should do” things. I think a bit of organization here and there is much more appealing than total chaos at the wrong time.
We learned a few things while sitting at that big table earlier this week. We learned about the state laws and what would happen if we didn’t have a will at all. We learned what would happen now that we did. We also learned all about another type of will, called the “living will.”
If you remember the Terri Schiavo case, I am sure you will begin to understand the importance of having a living will. This, in some ways, is more important than a traditional will. Basically, this piece of paper gives the authority to one person to make a very important decision for you. You can click the “living will” link to learn more about it.
There is a really big area that so many people forget to address while making a will (or updating your existing one). It’s funny, because we actually reminded the attorney to update his own. This area has to do with pets.
Laura used to work in the animal industry. She told me that most animals that are put in shelters are put there because someone died and there were no instructions on what to do with the pet once the time for that decision to be made. Many family members aren’t too keen on taking on someone’s cat or dog, so these pets usually end up in the local animal shelter. Really, all it takes is one line in someone’s will to specify a friend or “pet friendly” family member that the pets should go to. It’s not like an order, but more like informing the people who usually read a will later on. “Oh, would you look at that. I had no idea that Daisy down the road wanted those cats.”
So, there you have it. I think I got through that with some definite skill. It’s sort of like navigating a landmine, but I realized that talking about these things can be helpful and a reminder for all of those people who might now say, “Let’s go get it done.”
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Sunday, September 14th, 2008
This article was written by Jay G on behalf of PetClassifieds.US, a popular pet classifieds website.
Is owning a dog right for you? Have you thoroughly thought out all the pros and cons of getting your first dog? If not, you might want to read this. I have put together a “Top 10″ list of what prospective dogs owners should be aware of before making the jump to dog ownership.
Can You Really Be a Dog’s Best Friend? A Top 10 List
I think that’s a valid question, and I don’t ask it lightly. The short answer is yes. The long answer may be no, and let me tell you why.
I think I’ll start things off with a short story. It’s interesting and I think it will shed some light on what I am thinking.
Way back in 1999, I was attending graduate school at Binghamton University. I lived on the third floor of an old house in a very small apartment. The house was in a rather congested part of town, so all of the residents could get a very clear picture of what was happening in the neighborhood around them. From my apartment, I had a pretty good vantage point of a few backyards that were close by.
As you could imagine, while attending graduate school, I was required to study for a good portion of the day and night. There was no way to get around it and much of it had to be done in my apartment. In order to have a good studying session, I needed quiet. Thinking back, I should have moved into a more sparse part of town.
The day after I moved in, I remember looking out the window into the backyard across the street. There were two dogs lying down on a dirt area. They were tethered together by the same dog leash, a piece of one tied to the other. Their heads were about a foot apart and they had no where to go. Every time someone passed on the sidewalk, they would stand up and run to the chain link fence, barking. This went on day after day. Eventually, someone from the neighborhood called the ASPCA and had the dogs removed. The owners were charged with having the dogs outside without shelter and a few other things.
This brings me to the point of this piece. Why do people bring dogs into their homes, when they clearly don’t have the means to properly care for them?
I’m sure we have all seen it a thousand times; the messiest house on the road with three viscous dogs chained to a stump in the front yard, the college students who thought it would be fun to get a “house” puppy, the overworked parents who thought it would be a good idea to get their young children an active puppy to play with.
What’s the common theme that runs across all three examples above? Bad choices. I think the mistakes many people make are 1) they don’t understand that owning a dog is a huge responsibility and 2) dogs can lead miserable lives, if not taken care of properly.
Here is a (hopefully helpful) list of reminders that you should consider before bringing a dog into your family:
1. Dogs bark. If you like your neighbors and want them to continue liking you, be sure to consider this when choosing the breed of dog you get.
2. Dogs eat. If you have trouble paying your own grocery bill, think about the extra expense of a big bag of dog food once a month.
3. Dogs need to go to the doctor. If you are having trouble paying for your own health care, think about what you are going to do the day your dog needs to have an operation.
4. Dogs need to relieve themselves. If you like to snuggle under your warm covers at 5AM in the middle January, think about the feeling you will have when your new dog starts barking to go outside at that time.
5. Dogs need to play. If you work late and no one is home, who will be there to take the dog outside to burn off all the energy they have?
6. Dogs need love. Are you ready to spend at least two hours a day with your dog?
7. Dogs need space. Do you have the room for a dog that may become hyper when it gets excited?
8. Dogs are not welcome in many rental units. Do you rent? Be aware that by having a dog, you are limiting yourselves to about 10% of available units for rent.
9. Dogs require patience. Take a good look at yourself. Have you ever lost your temper? Many dogs may do things that will upset you.
10. Dogs need to be licensed. What are the rules of your area when it comes to dog ownership?
The above list is not meant to be depressing. It’s meant to give you a realistic view of what you can expect after you bring that cute, cuddly little puppy into your home. I have owned many dogs and I write from experience.
A good friend of mine owns two rather large dogs that he adopted from a friend during his senior year of college. They are both about five years old now. He loves the dogs, but feels he may have made a mistake. He may not have been ready for them. I remember asking him how he feels about owning the dogs, to which he replied, “Yeah, that was pretty much the biggest mistake I ever made.”
Now, let’s discuss the brighter side of things. If you have looked over the above list and think you might be ready to give a dog a new home, good for you. Just be sure to look for that dog in the right places. There are many dogs in shelters across this country that are just waiting for someone like you to walk through the door. Do the right thing and adopt. You’ll be glad you did.
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Tuesday, October 9th, 2007
I can’t believe my parents have been married for 40 years. Well, it’s a little more then 40 years now. It was their anniversary yesterday.
I keep thinking about how fast life flies by. I have now been at this job for five years. I would say that’s about four and a half years too long. I wasn’t even going to take a job when we moved back from Naples. It was just there and they offered it to me. How fast that five years have gone.
Well, 40 years is a little longer than five. I am sure my parents are thinking back about how much they have done during their marriage. The way memory works, at least the way mine does, is to think of recent stuff. I am not sure they think too often of the land in Amenia or when the garage door faced the other direction. When was the last time my parents sat at the dinner table and talked about how Mrs. Clancy used to mow her lawn on the Ford tractor in the middle of July wearing a winter hat? Or, going to the beach at Tonetta Lake? I guess my point is that they have done a heck of a lot more together than they even realize. It’s a good thing when you have lived with someone so long you forget half of it, I think.
Anyway, happy anniversary parents o’ mine. Love ya.
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Sunday, October 7th, 2007
My sister, Lauren, asked me recently how our new stainless steel pots and pans are working out for us. I told her that they were doing well. She is considering making the switch, I think.
As I mentioned, we tossed our old Anolon non-stick cookware and upgraded to a T-Fal Elegance 10 Piece Stainless Steel Cookware Set. The Anolon stuff was supposed to be really good. You know, it had all those warranties and guarantees…all that sales stuff. In actuality, the non-stick coating fell off, or scratched off in about a year. In my opinion, all those pans suck. There are so many rules to them. Don’t use metal, don’t use high heat, don’t put them in the dishwasher, don’t look at them funny…you get the idea.
I have never been all that good at handling limitations. My mother still has her set of T-Fal non-stick pans. She has had them for over ten years. I don’t know how she does it. I guess she is much better at behaving than I am.
Ok, so here is my early review of the new stainless steel cookware. In the beginning, everything stuck. I was making mess after mess. Then, I began cooking at a lower heat. I started noticing that fewer items of food were sticking to the pans. Hmmm…this made me think, and you know how much I like to think. Now, I cook at about 3 out of 10 (heat setting) and don’t have a sticking problem anymore. I have also noticed that olive oil isn’t the greatest lubricating agent out there. Margarine is much better. I actually cooked two huge pancakes this morning without issue.
So Lauren, my advice is to get the stainless steel pots and pans. I think they will last a lot longer and, for us, we won’t have to struggle anymore with cooking on pans with no non-stick coating left. For more opinions on this topic, you can visit this website.
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Saturday, October 6th, 2007
Ahhh…my first audio book. I don’t know how Laura finds these things, but she does.
I like to think of her sitting at her computer, very studiously analyzing and contemplating my psyche. “Who is Jay?” she would ask herself. “What makes this guy tick?” In actuality, she probably sees what is popular that day on Amazon, but we try not to think about that.
I can’t get over the clarity of the new stereo I installed in my car today. Just a moment ago, I walked outside, across the driveway to it. I sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the key. The radio came on so I could hear 95.5 WPLJ, down in the city. I changed the channel to 100.3 Z100. It’s remarkable how clear the radio receives the signal. My old one never did that.
I opened the package of the audio book, “Wandering Home – A Long Walk Across America’s Most Hopeful Landscape: Vermont’s Champlain Valley and New York’s Adirondacks,” by Bill McKibben. I really didn’t know what to expect. My mother has been raving about audiobooks ever since she lived back in my home town. I think they helped make her drive everyday to work in Danbury a little bit easier. She used to say, “My car can steer itself on the trip to work. That’s how used to it I am.” I think she really believed that at times. Well, when she told the story, she sounded very convincing.
I pushed the CD in the brand new slot. Everything is so shiny. The radio stopped and the CD started. A very faint, but clean guitar sound started. It got louder, and then a very soothing voice, that introduced himself as the author, Bill McKibben, began to speak. I though, “Ooh, this is going to be good. I listened for a few minutes and turned the key back, so the sound stopped. I didn’t want to ruin the first part of the story during a time when I wasn’t focusing on it. I turned the key forward, so the CD turned on again. Yup, it picked up right where it left off. This was going to work out fine.
So what’s the story about? Well, Bill’s website tells it like this…
“The acclaimed author of The End of Nature takes a three-week walk from his current home in Vermont to his former home in the Adirondacks and reflects on the deep hope he finds in the two landscapes.”
That’s not all, you can read the rest here.
As you can see, I am quite excited about using my frontal lobe even more than I currently am. It is going to be nice to break out of the mold of NPR and bad local radio. Yeah, it’s going to be nice.
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Saturday, September 22nd, 2007
Do you want to hear something really funny? It just so happens that my parents are actually going to Bermuda in six weeks. I had no idea.
I called my father last night and talked to him about my great idea. He kept saying, “Six weeks, you have six weeks.” I am like, “What the heck is this fella talking about.”
Well, there goes my plan, unless they want to go to Bermuda again in May or June. Hmmm…I am also thinking Antigua.
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Friday, September 21st, 2007
So I just got a great idea.
I have been telling Laura for some time now that I want to go to Bermuda. She kind of doesn’t really respond because she doesn’t want to go. I will have to strong arm her. Anyway, since I never get to see my parents anymore, perhaps I will call the travel agent and get some prices. Then, I will invite my parents to meet us there.
How is that for a family reunion?
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