"So You Say It's Your Birthday..."

So today's my birthday, an event that has minimizing significance as we go along. Age of course is one issue. And the day of my birth being so close to Christmas occasionally makes it a bitter sweet celebration. Either I feel hurt that I'm not getting the appropriate amount of attention....or I feel guilty because all the people around me feel bad 'cause they don't give it the appropriate amount of attention.

I do have a pretty long standing tradition of going OUT to eat on my birthday.  That pretty much satiates my birthday ego. Now just hold on to all this for a minute.

Well, we get up this morning to discover we have over 30 inches of measured snow on the ground.  We have snowdrifts as high as 5 feet.  The whole Metropolitan Area is shut down, and that includes any place I'd like to go eat in honor of the day of my birth.

A "shoveling the snow off the driveway" job typically occupies about a half hour following  a snow storm. Well this one, with two of us in motion? It takes up the better part of three hours.  So somewhere in this time period Peggy says:

"I'll bet you are going to go right to your room and BLOG about what you HAVE to do on your Birthday."

"Yeah, but this time its going to be a case of what I GET to do on my birthday."

Take away the wind? (It is gone.) Take away below zero temperatures? ( The mercury reads in the upper 20's) And some really miraculous things take place. All the sounds you learn to ignore are actually gone.

PEGGY HAS MY BIRTHDAY DINNER READY...I'LL GET BACK TO YOU.

Not bad!

Let me describe for you what happens to my senses out shoveling. 

Hearing?: What's most noticable is what I don't hear.  I don't hear traffic. I don't hear BullyDozers. I don't hear trash trucks. (this is trash day.) I don't hear the mailperson. (The Postal service balks on it's motto.) I don't hear school busses.  I don't hear planes overhead. I don't hear distant sirens.  What do I hear?  I hear the clear "Whoosh" of snow shovels slicing away layers of white blanket.  I hear gentle voices in quiet conversation up to two blocks away.

Sight?: I see rolling,  waving blankets of soft white. I see people I've never seen before out shoveling, sledding, snow shoeing, walking dogs. ( A Bishon Frise that could barely keep it's head above the snow.) I look up and down the street and see myself mirrored by men and women shoveling in unison.  I see one neighbor take time out to carve a snow seat for his two year old son.  What I don't see?  I don't see any stress. I don't see any angst.

Taste?: A taste of freshness along with the crisp bacon I've just ingested.

Touch?: There is the soft cushy warmth of my parka and gloves. There is the tingling of loose snowflakes flying off my shovel and hitting my face.

I have a former student, Psalm is her name, who once a year turns off all her electricity for a week to get a clear sense of the peaceful simplicity of the world around her. Today I get it. 

This is a birthday I'll remember and feel good about. I'm throwing in some more pictures so you can vicariously feel good about it too. Happy Birthday to us One and All.

I'll get back to being my cynical self (pass the turkey scrooge) when all this snow turns to slop. Nothin's forever, is it?  

So Glad I'm Retired

I've been sitting at home watching some of my good friends stand around in the snow babbling about the storm that's burying this burg.  While I'm admittedly a little restless?  Oh, is it nice to be sitting inside a warm place admiring nature.  I just took that picture a few minutes ago....we've had about a foot of snow here with some pretty humungous drifts.

So anyway, I'm thinking we don't get our Christmas Card out to very many of you 'cause we don't have your LAND-ADDRESSES.  So, I say to myself....why not send it virtual. It's going to happen that way anyway...one of these days....so here's what some of you got via the post office...

 

Hello! How’s it goin’? We’re older but feeling younger. I’ve lost a lot of weight and Peggy is getting a lot of her trophy level tennis back. I’ve got this goal of not gaining ANY weight during the holidays.  But I’m not going to punish myself VERY much if I come up short.

We’ve just had a light rail extension get within three miles of the house. So I’ve pretty much given up driving. But it has me WONDERING about something.

There is this large light rail parking lot? Here are some givens.

1.      It is about a quarter of a mile wide I’d say.

2.      It is six stories high

3.      It has an elevator and stairs close to the train.

4.      It (the parking lot) is never more than half full.

 

So I WONDER why some folks drive round and round on the first floor to get a parking spot rather than go up the ramp? They seem willing to walk that quarter mile on level one, rather than go up a level or two and park right next to the elevator. I don’t get it.

 

Peggy WONDERS how water can run downhill in a river that’s headed north. She says, “that’s just not right.” She also WONDERS why it can’t be warmer here in the winter since we’re so much closer to the sun.

When we were in the San Luis valley watching Sand Cranes fly south for the winter she WONDERS, “why can’t we do that?”

 

We’ve been to some WONDROUS places this year, like Florence, Oregon. That’s the place where they blew up a whale almost 40 years ago. I still WONDER why they did that. I also WONDER why they put a hot tub right next to the bed in our Florence hotel room. I always get a strange look from people when I WONDER that out loud.

 

At a wild horse compound in Wyoming, Peggy WONDERS why we can’t take one of the horses home with us?

 

Well we just wanted to let you know that we’ve just had a WONDERFUL year. We sure hope your year has been full of WONDER too. Come and see us!

 

Paul and Peggy Reinertson

 

 

 

The Tie that BINDS

A few years back I set out on a mission to CREATE... using one of the more annoying aspects of our commercial society. I refer to the colorful little stickers they put on fruit and vegetables to make it easier ( I did research this) for visually challenged grocery clerks (apparently all of them) to ring the items up.

Well I'm smart enough to pick my battles. Once an idea or item reaches mass exposure.....no matter how strong the protest.....no matter how logical one's arguments are against it....if a big investment has been made? The idea or item STICKS. ( Pun intended.)

So....I start collecting the little stickers to randomly place them on empty prescription bottles. Art, I say. And I present the little STICK-BOTs as colorful holiday gifts. Recipients include my high school friend Alice Goecke.

Well, a strange thing happens, and Alice may be sitting on a gold mine...although speculation is still pretty much up in the air. You see, someone has invented a little indenting stamp for the fruits and veggies that may cruely replace the sticker.

Alice and I both pick up on that news item this past year about the same time.  Alice may have a ONE of a kind. The one and only STICK-BOT left in existence. (rumor has it the others got tossed.)  Just think of it.

On the other end....I'm kind of like up STICK-BOT creek. 

But you can't get a REAL artist down.   I just expand my medium.  When the word gets out this past summer, no more fruit and veggie stickers? I just start collecting all kinds of sticky things from our consumer world. I will just let them all adhere to each other and BECOME what ever they FEEL  like becoming.

Well, behold the END result. Call it the CHRISTMAS  Tie! Call it the HANNUKKAH Tie.  Call it the KWANZA tie.  But be the first one on your block to get an original STICKY-TIE-YAI-YAI.

As you gaze up on it up there you might be REACHING for a level of appreciation.  The thing may seem terribly out of current fashion.  But remember an important rule of fashion.  Excesses must reach their extreme before reverting to their genesis.

I'm sort of not making this up. In a costume history class I passed,  I'm made aware of the rule with those little pointy toed moccasins they wore in the middle ages?  The little pointy thing just keeps growing until it starts flopping.  And the Versace of the time just spreads the rumor that to solve that problem, you just curl the thing back and tie it to your ankle. Pretty soon it's back to a little pointy thing.  Consider the Maxi-Midi-Mini skirt cycle of our own times.

I bring this to your attention so you won't be put off by the WIDTH of the tie.  Check the VERY back of your closet.  Wide ties WILL return.

Now I'm going to be straight up with you on this investment issue.  Truth be known I've seen no evidence the food industry is truly making the switch from the STICKER to the STAMP. If nothing else the concept's growth will be retarded whilst the "bean-counters" debate the capital investment costs.

Then the point becomes...do you buy a STICKY-TIE-YAI-YAI now? Or....? Now if I were a WISE gambling man, I'd hedge my bet and get one of each. 

"One STICKY-BOT please.  And why don't you throw in one of those new STICKY-TIE-YAI-YAIs."

"You do know sir, there is talk they are going to discontinue the STICKY-BOTs. It might be a wise investment to get two."

"Oh, Okay. I do need to get something for my boss. Make that two STICKY-BOTs and one STICKY-TIE-YAI-YAI."

"I'll just ring that up for you sir.  And you have a HAPPY _____...you hear me?!" 

(Why do we keep using that expression? When was the last time a cash register actually RANG!!!!?)

What Goes Round

"Speak the speech I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue."

That's the opening line of Hamlet's advice to the players (actors). The prince of Denmark wants this traveling acting troupe to convincingly portray the suspected poisoning of his father. 

Most of the world believes they are words written by William Shakespeare or one of his posers. But there are a number of us who believe this advice is penned by the man you see above.

His name is Ray Phillips, speech and drama teacher at Bell High School, and professor at East Los Angeles College.

We believe he might be the author because he forces us all to memorize that advice and carry it with us for eternity.

Ray just turns 80 and a bunch of we former students gather to sing his praises.  I learn a lot from Ray that I try to employ throughout my career, and now try to pass on to my students. He is truly a mentor to many.

But to keep this from getting sticky with nostalgia I'm going to stick to pretty much what I relate in my tribute to him around the banquet table.

I tell Ray I sure wish I'd followed that Hamlet advice a little closer.  I clearly remember my first Seward County Community College basketball play by play effort.  I set out to "speak my speech trippingly on the tongue?" But it comes out like this:

"Coleman Crawford comes down with the rebound, he moves to the right side of the court, and he SH_TS from 15 feet out." 

Now in context you know there should be two 'O's where the underline is?  For the record I substitute an 'I' as in spit. 

The only reason I know I make that substitution?  Both visiting play by play announcers have gone silent and are staring directly at me.  There is a brief pause, at which time I add, "AND IT'S GOOD!"  

Hamlet's advice is a fairly lengthy soliloquy. As it continues it includes, " nor do not saw the air too much with your hands, thus!" 

Oddly that is particularly important advice for those working in television. [It will be a while before Willy gets to deal with the subtleties of TV.]  The confines of a TV frame should prevent one from flailing their arms all over the place as they report or perform.

And there is another danger in overdoing your gestures that I had to learn the hard way.

I have great respect for Vanna White. 

"What is he talking about", you say?

Well I have an occasion to be following Vanna around for several days as she is doing some promotional shOOts? [Learned my lesson on that one.] Well at one point I am set up to interview her live from a golf course.

For the uninitiated? When you are doing a live interview? As the reporter on the scene you set up the interview looking right into the camera. Your guest is positioned a few feet behind you on your right or left.

As you are getting ready to bring on your guest? You do a slow turn in the guest's direction so that only your shoulder or profile is visible. That way you are putting all the attention on the guest.

Well, all of this is going according to plan but we are rushed, and I must be excited about bringing Vanna to the masses?

That slow subtle turn? Well, first of all it's not a bit subtle. And with a hand held microphone, I do this broad sweeping turn that results in my elbow slamming into her upper errogenous zone with great force.

Why do I admire her? There is subdued pain being expressed. But this suffering woman maintains an almost believable smile and we get through the live shot with most viewers none the wise.  [It's a really good thing you can't see my face.]  [Gossip from Sony Pictures is there is significant swelling and bruising.]

My students are forced to memorize the first lyrical stanza of "I am the very model of a modern major general" from the "Pirates of Penzance." I insist they take it with them because it's a great articulation exercise.

But now that I've been back in Ray's presence? And I remember Vanna's pain and suffering? I may switch. Oddly, Ray's (Shakespeare's?) advice seems a little more practical.

 

POSTSCRIPTS: Ray Phillips introduced me to an environment that allows creativity and self confidence to thrive. I will always be greatful.

I am so excited to have heard from my old friend sighlemaccaba. What incredible biting wit she possesses. If you haven't read her response to my previous entry on elevators? Take the time now. She is a riot! I missed you Shiela. 

Going Up?

Well, it’s time to get back astride the well worn leather. 

 

[I’ll go to any extreme to bypass a cliché.]

I have plenty of well thought out rationalizations for not blogging lately

 

[Interesting observation here. Microsoft Word’s spell and grammar check doesn’t recognize any form of the term BLOG. That leaves me with a conundrum. Is BLOGGING spelled with two ‘g’s or three? You’ve probably all decided already and just haven’t shared. Let me know. I’ll go either way on it. Just a thought!]

 

But you’re not going to buy any excuses.  So let’s just drop it and move on.

Today class, I’d like to talk about TIME and SPACE.

 

[RELAX Albert! Ask anyone who knows me well.  I am no threat.]

 

By non-scientific observation over a number of years I’ve casually accepted the biased TRUTH that we, mankind, are a strange species.  We seldom participate in available activities that support what we profess.

 

I’m going to narrow this exploration now and fill in the blanks in later BLOG entries. Let’s talk about ELEVATORS.

 

WHY DON’T WE USE THE ELEVATORS?  (Mr. Otis Regrets, heh, heh!)

 

I’m thinking elevators came into play principally to support our addiction to conquering TIME and SPACE. So why, tell me why no one (figuratively speaking Albert) uses the elevators at AIRPORTS. Why do we (generic WE) insist on forcing ourselves into balls of humanity on the escalator.  Isn’t a straight line the fastest (TIME) and shortest (SPACE) way to get from one place to the next?

 

Why, tell me why, we don’t use the elevators at SHOPPING MALLS. They even make them nice and fancy for us with the open views of all the greenery and art.  But, no!  We cram all ourselves on to slow moving, oxygen sucking, sweat producing, body odor revealing, short temper exposing ESCALATORS. Does anybody even know who invented the ESCALATOR? And is that the most oxymoronic   oxymoron in the English language? [Personally I think it tops RUSH HOUR!]

 

But I don’t want to belabour this observation during this joyous season. Sometimes things just get into your head and you’ve got to get them out.  I’ll return to this theme now and then, but enough for now. In the meantime try an elevator while your shopping and traveling. No doubt your tax dollar paid for them one way OR the other. And just remember the old formula:

TIME=MONEY.

I’ll get back to you soon. But if you happen to be out of town?  Merry Christmas, etal and Happy New Year. 

Thanksgiving?

Okay, it's a week late. But that is a picture of Peggy atop the shifting sands of Great Sand Dunes National Park on Thanksgiving. 

Since neither of us has immediate family here? We typically try to do something different on this holiday. This year we spend T'give eve in Taos, New Mexico. [SEE PIC TWO] And then spend the special day of giving thanks climbing the Sand Dunes.

How special are the Sand Dunes? [SEE PIC THREE] 

T'give night we spend in Salida where some of Peggy's kin used to hang out.

So what are we thankful for? We get a room in Taos with out calling ahead.  There isn't enough snow for the winter crowd to show up yet.  We are also here on the last day of the traditional off-season.

Now here is a new one on me and I'm sure thankful about it.  On this day we are eligible for both Triple A and the AARP discounts. And on top of that?  We get a gift pack that includes a ten dollar razor in it?  And we get a free glass of wine at the bar.  And we get 15 percent off our evening meal?  And we get free hot breakfast.  (We have to pay for the orange juice.)

We are thankful for the beautiful drive back up to the Sand Dunes. We are thankful we get to the top of the Dunes for the first time. [You'll know what I mean when you try it sometime.] But guess what?  The only day of the year they waive the fee to get into a National Park that I know of? You guessed it!

But the thanks just keeps comin'. In Salida? Here we are thankful for the ONLY place of business OPEN to get a "bite to eat" on this special EATING day. Name? You might of heard of it.  PIZZA HUT!

Thank you, thank you, thank you Pizza Hut. I'm pretty sure I give our waiter a "tip" he can retire on.  You ever try their "meatball pasta?"  Not bad on Thanksgiving after spending the day crawling up a Sand Pile.

Oh, and we're also thankful for the Turkey Dinner our neighbors, The Kwits, bring over to the house the day after Thanksgiving.

My goodness we are blessed. And, oh yeah!  We are so thankful our friend Stephenie Davis is out of the hospital and on the mend.

That's all the big stuff. Hope your thanks list is a good one, too.

[Addendum: Thanks to our other neighbors the Helvigs for shoveling our sidewalk.]

A Quickie!

Every once in a while (hardly ever actually) some one asks me what it takes to become a TV photographer. [DON'T CALL THEM CAMERA MEN OR WOMEN!] 

Well, clearly, I'd say five years of  ballet, ten years of yoga, all concurrent with 15 years of weight training.

( Just as an experiment?  I try to get into that position without a camera? Put the chiropractor on retainer! Man, it really stretches the spot where the Hamstring and the Glutumus interact.)

I'm going to take a break from this for a few days. Happy Thanksgiving.

Make sure you read the posting before this one and you'll know quite well what she's lookin at.