Enough Already with the Cologne

Have you ever entered a house or a building and noticed a strong fragrance right off the bat? You know, it could be a candle burning or something delicious cooking. Or it could be some detergent or cleaning product that you smell. But then, after you're there for a few minutes, the fragrance is not as easy to detect. Ever noticed that?

One of the few things I remember from high school chemistry is this: our sense of smell grows accustomed to what it's exposed to. What does that tell you and me? Be careful with your perfume or cologne.

Over the past two days, I have encountered two men that had overwhelming cologne. I'm not talking about the "mmmm, that's smells good" type of cologne. I'm talking about the "oh my goodness, that just singed my nose hairs" cologne.

The first gentleman was in Brookshire's buying groceries with his young son. I happened to pass them and was almost knocked out by the fragrance. It's hard to describe, but it offended me. Whoa! What was he thinking? Didn't his wife mention to him that he had gone overboard with his application? Trust me, it packed a punch!

The second gentleman was in another store that I entered. I passed him going down the aisle and boom! What was that? /coughs/ "I...need...ox-i-gen...please...bring...a...mask." I thought about doing the "Stop, Drop, and Roll", but I wasn't on fire. If you asked me, the name of his cologne was Eau de Cesspool.

It reminded me of my first job. During high school, I worked at a department store. One of the managers was an elderly lady...sweet lady...sometimes a little gruff...but overall, sweet. God bless her soul...she wore too much perfume. I couldn't stand to be on the elevator with her because my clothes would smell like her the rest of the day. (Here's a special note to you ladies reading my blog...be careful to use different perfumes throughout your life. As we learned in chemistry class, your nose will become accustomed to a scent. Before you know it, you're in your senior years and you won't realize that you have just bathed in your perfume. Not everyone is going to be as fond of it as you are.) Well the manager had been wearing the same perfume for probably 10 years or longer. Her sense of smell was accustomed to that fragrance. She could no longer tell when she had applied too much. Sad!

Then there was my dentist in Mississippi. Angie and I lived in a suburb of Jackson for three years. My dentist over there was awesome. One huge problem, though...he evidently poured a half gallon of his favorite cologne all over his hands daily. After a dental appointment, I'd have to go home and shower. I couldn't stand his musky scent; and because he was working around my mouth, I'd have that fragrance all around my face during a dental procedure. P.U.!

I'm funny when it comes to cologne. I wear it some days and some days I don't. I can go years without wearing it, but then wear it every day for three years. For the last two years, I've been on the "wear-it" kick. As you might expect, I have several different fragrances from which I select. I carefully try to wear different colognes from time to time so my nose won't grow accustomed to one certain fragrance.

Another thing to consider is this: most of the products that we use in America already have a fragrance. Think about it. Your shampoo...your soap...your deodorant...your shaving cream...your cologne...your hair spray....etc. Separately, they all smell good. But together, they might smell...make that spell..."stinky". So apply sparingly from now on; or your attractant might become repellent.

I Told Ya So

{This is going to be my first submission in a weekly series on the financial crisis here in America. I want this to be an honest account of why we are where we are based on my tiny perspective of the mortgage/housing debacle.}

I've worked as a full-time real estate appraiser since 1992. Over the years, it has provided a good income for me and my family. The work is diverse...in the office and out in the field...meet new people every day. Basically I have enjoyed this profession, but.

"Hold on a minute there, Marky...there's a 'but' at the end of that sentence, and nothing else follows."

Yeppers, but...

I like to think that the appraisers are down in the trenches, so to speak, in the mortgage business. We battle every day to "shake out" the truth of what the market is doing in our respective areas. We are supposed to be objective and give reliable opinions of home values for our clients. Unfortunately, I have witnessed fraud in this business...from appraisers to mortgage brokers, from buyers to sellers...from real estate agents to closing attorneys. But the thing that gives me the royal red rumpus are the "little white lies" that have run rampant. And the reason I'm upset is because nobody has really cared...until now.

The dirty little secret in the appraisal profession for the past 15 years has simply been this: If you lie, you will get work. If you're a really good liar, then you will get even more work.

"Mark, these are good people you're talking about...Christians...upstanding, nice folks."

Yep, pillars of the community. Salt of the earth. Good ole boys...and girls.

I wish I had a dollar for every time one of these community pillars asked me to stretch the value of an appraisal. (I could probably retire by now.) I wish I had a dollar for every morally upright real estate agent that asked me to cover for his/her mistake.

"What? The house isn't as big as I said it was? I just copied the old MLS data."

"Yes, you compounded the mistake because it was wrong then and it is wrong now."

"Hmmmph. Is there any way we can cover it by using different comps? I mean, uh...is there any way you can appraise it for the sales price any way?"

You get the picture, right? This doesn't happen every once in a while. This has happened on a weekly basis since I entered the business. Now, please don't get the idea that I'm some angelic appraiser that has never made a mistake or never stretched a number to make the deal go through. Because I have. I'd be willing to bet that the great majority of appraisers have at one time or another stretched the truth. But we each draw a line in the sand and say, "I won't cross this." Then an opportunity arises and you're asked to do something that you wouldn't normally do. The conversation in your head goes like this, "I have to provide for my family...give them shelter...clothe the kids." And before you know it, you've crossed the line. So what do you do now? You re-draw the line in the sand. How convenient! Your integrity is for sale. It's amazing...once you cross the line how imaginary the line becomes. Unfortunately, some appraisers cross the line way too often. Perhaps they never drew the line from the get-go. The all-mighty dollar appears to be their lure...not integrity. What would you rather have when you stand before the Great White Throne...a pile of money or integrity?

What you have to look at, in my opinion, is the overall body of work. One of my friends said it this way: "We all are dirty. It's just a matter of how much dirt we have on us." Here's another way to look at it: Each appraiser has a bucket of water. Everytime the appraiser lies on an appraisal, it creates a hole in his bucket. Now if the appraiser is honest and does what is right, his bucket will hold water from now until Kingdom comes. But once he lies...even a little...a hole is created. The more he lies, the more holes he has. The bigger the lie, the bigger the hole. If he gets too many leaks, people will be able to see right through his bucket and it won't hold water. I can see right through a lot of local appraisers right now.



Now, you should ask, "Why should I care if an appraiser stretches the truth now and then?"

Because it's just one of the reasons that we are all about to be taxed for the bail-out. All the little things begin to add up to something huge. And if you work and breathe here in America, you are going to be affected. Do you know if you started a trip with a specific course in mind, you would need to stick to the course to reach your destination, right? What if you veer off the course by 90%? You'd be off course quickly, but you'd probably notice it quickly too. But what if you veered off course just a little bit...1%...2%...5%? You might not notice for a while. But when you did, you'd probably be waaaayyy off course. We've been asleep at the wheel here in the good ole U.S. The little white lies have finally caught up with us and we've got a long way to go to get back on the right track.

A couple of months ago, I ran into a friend who's a banker. He asked me how business was and I made the mistake of telling him my honest opinion. I mentioned that we were about to see some rough times because a lot of bad appraisals had backed a lot of bad paper, aka mortgages. (These mortgages are pooled together, 1000 at a time, and sold to investors to back your and my retirement accounts.) I told him that some big mortgage firms were going to have their feet sticking up in the air and we were all going to have to pay for it. He acted like I was screaming "the sky is falling." He sardonically replied, "Well, I guess I'd be better off just running out into the oncoming traffic." I wonder if he recalls our conversation now?

Back in 2005, at a seminar I attended, I learned that the Government Sponsored Entities (GSE's), i.e., Fannie Mae & Freddie Mac, knew they had a large percentage of unreliable appraisals backing unrealistic mortgages. It was just a matter of time before the ship hit the sand. I was lead to believe that we appraisers were about to get busy re-appraising assets to verify their soundness. Never happened. I guess no one wanted to rattle the cage...alarm the public. Is it too late? Maybe. As Ben Stein eloquently explains in the video below, "now they're trying to stop the bullet as it rushes through the chamber". Scary!



So here we are. Reach down deep into your pocketbook. We've been off course for a while now and we need some gas money to drive us back to the right spot. Don't worry about driving yourself...just let ole Uncle Sam take the wheel. Did I forget to mention that he's blind in one eye and can't see out of the other. Oh well.



Here are some good videos to watch.

Time For An Appointment With The Eye Doctor

Boo!

Daniel is a creative kid. He's always drawing, painting, and coming up with all kinds of ideas for making stuff. The other night, he decided he was going to make a custom cake. (I guess we've been watching too many Food Network challenges.)

At any rate, he kept asking me and Angie if it was okay to start cooking. Normally, we would have said "Sure, go ahead". But the day he asked was my birthday...and in case you weren't privy to the desserts I received, let me elaborate. I had two cookie cakes and a full pan of pumpkin bars. Now, on top of all those calories...uh, I mean cakes, Big Cat wants to make magic in the kitchen again! As parents, we took a stand...for about an hour.

Don't look down your nose at me because he's very persuasive...and persistent. After we gave in, I left him alone. About an hour and a half later, he called me into the kitchen to see his project. WOW! Check out the photos! He didn't have a special bat cake pan. He didn't have black icing. Everything, other than the cake mix, is custom. He saw this cake in his mind's eye and made it.



I'm impressed. How about you?

Useless Facts For A Fun Friday

I'm exhausted from the week and I feel like I've been running on a treadmill. So here are a few useless facts that pumped air into my tires. Hope they help you too.

Do what???
1) A South Korean movie theater owner decided that the movie The Sound of Music was too long. His solution? He shortened the movie by cutting out all of the musical scenes!

Do you mind grabbing me some?
2) The five most stolen items in a drugstore are batteries, cosmetics, film, sunglasses, and, get this, Preparation H. Apparently people are just too embarrassed to purchase the last item. And, just in case you are curious, one of Preparation H's main ingredient is shark liver oil. The oil not only helps shrink hemorrhoids, but will shrink any tissue. As a result, many older women in Florida use the stuff to help reduce the appearance of wrinkles!

Owwchhh.....
3) Way back on August 13, 1903, police entered the Liverpool, England home of William and Emily Shortis. Worried friends had contacted the authorities because the couple had not been seen for several days prior. There they found William near death. Oddly, he was pinned under the dead body of his 224 pound wife. Did she die during a moment of passion? Not at all. The coroner concluded that William was following Emily up the stairs of their home when she lost her balance and tumbled down the steps, pulling him down with her. Emily immediately died from a blow to the head, trapping William under her body for over three days. Sadly, William did not survive his injuries, either.

Yeah, I knew that...
4) Did you ever wonder what the WD in WD-40 stands for? The name was lifted right out chemist Norm Larsen's laboratory notebook. Way back in 1953, he was trying to concoct an anti-corrosion formula, which worked on the basic principle of displacing water. On his 40th try, Larsen finally got it right. Hence the name WD-40. It literally means Water Displacer, 40th try.

I so wanna be a meteorologist.
5) The lightning that we see actually goes from the ground to the sky in what is known as the "return stroke" at 1/3 the speed of light. We can't see the initial "stepped leader" that passes from the sky to the ground.

Fuhgeddaboudit

Excerpt from the movie, Donnie Brasco:

... But then, if you disagree, like "A Lincoln is better than a Cadillac? Forget about it!" you know? But then, it's also like if something's the greatest thing in the world, like mingia those peppers, "forget about it.".... And then, sometimes it just means forget about it.

Plan on coming to The Altos this October at the Chateau's Cork Room. The script is marvelous, the family is memorable, and it promises to put a catchy song in your head that you won't be able to fuhgeddabout.

Here are some photos from a rehearsal on September 20th.


Mikey as "Chris"


Laura Michelle as "Toffee"


Jae as "Dr. Malaise"


Doug as "Uncle Senior"


Julie as "Nona"






Steve standing in for Troy


Who is that masked man...or woman?


He/She ain't tawkin'

Whodda Thunk Coffee Tasted So Good?

Meredith gave me a musical coffee mug for my birthday. Watch this video and you'll see it. Plus, be sure to check out the card that I bought for her. It shows a lab dancing. When she opens the card, it says something to the effect of "I thought you'd like a lab dance." Get it? Lab dance.



Well, instead of sending Meredith a "Thank you" card, I made another video to show how much I loved my new coffee mug. Now, you can enjoy it too! By the way, Angie went on the record by saying that it "creeped her out." Hmmph...critics!?!?

You Snooze...You Lose

Yesterday was my birthday. I love birthdays. Who doesn't like being greeted all day by your family and friends with a hearty "Happy Birthday"? Even strangers will go along when they find out it's your special day. Plus, Angie always goes out of her way to make sure everything is to my liking. This year, Meredith even came home over the weekend to celebrate with me. Daniel bought me not one, but two cookie cakes. And John grilled me a burger. I really couldn't have asked for anything more.

Usually, when a family member celebrates around here, we'll make the dessert that they want, take them out to eat wherever they want, etc; and yesterday was no exception. Angie made my favorite dessert...pumpkin bars. She learned the recipe from watching Paula Deen on the Food Network. They are sooooo delicious!


mmmm...pumpkin bars

For supper, we went to eat earlier than typical because Angie had to leave for work at 6:40. I wanted to eat light because John had offered to grill me a hamburger (his specialty). So, we opted for sushi. I figured I could eat a sushi roll and still have room for a burger later. We decided to go to Kyoto. Unfortunately, that was a big mistake.

I used to love this place. Unlike the other sushi bar in Monroe, Kyoto's atmosphere is more subdued and suitable for my tastes. However, over the last two years, the service has been hit or miss....mostly miss. Obviously others have felt the same way because I noticed that Kyoto has changed its menu. (When people quit going to a restaurant, isn't that one of the ways to lure them back?) At any rate, we entered the restaurant behind a couple of young ladies, who were promptly seated. A waiter walked up to the host station, never made eye contact, and asked "Three?" I could immediately sense that Angie wasn't pleased with his introductory skills because she sarcastically stated to him...with a smile...."Hi, how are you?" He got the message.

He escorted us to a table and sat us in the main dining area. Our table and the table with the two young ladies were the only ones occupied. After ten minutes of no welcome, no service, we began to get anxious. The young ladies were greeted by a waiter and served their drinks. We, on the other hand, were offered no service. I did observe three different people in the dining room...the manager and two waiters. However, they were preoccupied with lighting candles on all of the tables. None of them offered to assist us...no greeting...no water...no service. Well, before 15 minutes had passed, we decided to leave. If the place would have been busy, I could understand. But they had more waiters than they had customers...and, yet, not one offered to serve us. As we left, I saw the owner sitting at the bar visiting with someone. When we made eye contact, he said, "Thank you!" I thought to myself, "He is painfully unaware that he just lost three customers...forever."

Where did we go? The China Cafe on Louisville. When we entered, we were immediately greeted by Rachel...hostess/waitress extraordinaire. She will go above and beyond to make your dining experience pleasant. Angie mentioned that it was my birthday and Rachel slyly went around me and began whispering to Angie. (I knew something was up but I didn't know what was coming.) Our meal was delivered promptly and it was so good! After we finished, I walked to the counter to pay our bill, but Rachel motioned for me to sit back down. A few seconds later, she presented me with fresh watermelon slices, a sliced orange, several fried biscuits, and a lit candle! She even sang "Happy Birthday" to me. Rachel understands something that the clods at Kyoto still haven't learned. Your customers are your livelihood. Make them happy...they come back and they bring others. Treat them wrong...they never come back and they tell other people about their bad experience. I'll be back to the China Cafe really soon and I hope you can go with me. As for Kyoto, "Sayonara!"

By the way, John made me a burger later last night that was nothing less than spectacular. I have to admit that I almost couldn't eat it. After eating triple delight, General Tso chicken, moo shoo chicken, some watermelon, an orange, a biscuit, some cookie cake, and a pumpkin bar....I was dangerously close to popping.

Do ya think you could get me some stretchy pants for my next birthday?

Standing Water and Red Ants

Angie and I went over the levee about a week ago and had a picnic. While we were there we saw numerous turtles, egrets, and a bird with a broken wing. In fact, we spent half of our time trying to capture the bird with the bum appendage. Not that we could do anything about the wing, but we figured we could take it to someone who could. Plus, we figured the bird was going to wind up in another animal's digestive tract if we didn't try to do something. Well, the bird proved to be quite elusive. So, there's no happy ending to this part of the story.

We had so much fun on our first picnic that we decided to reenact the event on Friday. However, in less than a week, the river had risen. The road that we normally take to get to the picnic tables was shut off with a large gate. Just a few yards away, you could see why...the water covered the road. Not to be deterred, we drove closer to the river and decided to eat just outside of our car. I forgot to tell you that we had taken Duke along on this trip and he was itching to get into the water.

Before we stopped, Angie spotted a baby duck that was diving under the water, over and over. She tried to film him but the sunlight glare was so bad that she couldn't see the viewfinder on the camera. Therefore, very little of the duck is seen on the attached video. You can, however, see how close we were to the river's edge. I pulled the car slightly off the road and exited the car. Angie started taking out our picnic fixings and was trying to hold Duke back from lunging into the water. I told her, "Don't fret, I will handle Duke." And after I took control, Duke immediately jumped out of the car and started wading in the water. Since we didn't know if the depth of the terrain that he was standing on, we called him back to the car. About the same time, Angie started screaming. Turns out that she was standing in a bed of red ants. I tried to knock the ants off of Angie and corral Duke at the same time. I wish you could have seen the jig Angie was performing. She had moves that I've never seen...LOL. Unfortunately, she was bitten multiple times on her feet. During the process, Duke hopped into the water again. I finally got him back in the car and noticed the ants were all over my boots. I shook them off, entered the car, and we took off for the other side of the levee.

When we were near Forsythe Park, Angie observed Duke jumping back and forth in the back seat. She screamed, "There are ants all over Duke!" (Don't you wish you could have filmed all of this?) I stopped the car, pulled Duke out, and Angie and I began knocking ants off of him. It looked like hundreds of ants on him. During the process, Angie was bitten numerous times again...this time on her arms. Duke, of course, didn't understand what was happening; but we could tell he was uncomfortable. After we rid him of the ants, we looked at each other reluctantly and mutually agreed to go home. However, our surprises weren't over yet. Half of the ants that were previously on Duke were now in my car. My car had become a traveling red ant bed. We spent another 10-15 minutes killing them, ant by ant. Needless to say, this is one picnic we don't want to reenact.

It reminded me of the "Tom and Jerry" cartoons. It seems like everytime they had a picnic, black army ants would invade and disrupt the event. Well I'm here to tell you that the army ants can't hold a candle to the red ants that we encountered on Friday. Two hours after our lunch, I was still finding ants in my car! Standing water and red ants...what a combination.


If you look really close, you'll see the ripples from the duck on the left of the screen. He makes a brief appearance there too.



Angie filmed this prior to the ant bed episode. Duke really wanted to get into the river.

You In...You Out?

Angie's cooking lunch today. You in...or you out?

My Vet-2B

Is that bottom lip stuck out there
for the bird to sit on?


She speaks the bird's language.


Today, we're having a blue-light special
on wild birds.


The bird's no dummy. He was perfectly
happy on Meredith's finger.


Hey, that lip is still sticking out there.
Do you have an issue that requires a tissue?

I just found some photos that were on my mobile phone. I believe these pics were taken during Meredith's last week at Rundell Veterinary Hospital. (Forgive the out-of-focus photos...I rarely use my mobile phone for pics and I made a mess out of it.) Her mom and I took a cookie cake to them to celebrate the opportunity Dr. Rundell and his staff gave Meredith by letting her work there this summer. By the way, Meredith is a senior biology major at LSU and has applied to go to vet school.

The photos show Meredith holding a bird that someone brought into the clinic. It was a wild bird originally. But thanks to the love and support he received at the vet's office, he's perfectly comfortable around humans now. In fact, one of the employees cares for the bird and takes it home every night.

I hope Meredith is accepted into vet school. When you see someone so gifted in a certain area...especially someone who also has such a great passion for the gift, you want them to succeed. In my opinion, Meredith is one of these people. God gave her a gift of having a heart for all animals. Not to mention, as many critters as we have around here, I need a break on the vet bill. Know-what-I-mean, Vern?

Make Sure You Ask What Flavor The Kool-Aid Is

A funny thing happened to Daniel this weekend. He was suspended from an online game service because of improper behavior. What??? Daniel??? He's such a good boy. He wouldn't do anything like that, would he?

72 hours! He won't be able to get back on his account for three days.

At first, he didn't know what he did wrong. He and our neighbor, Miranda, were playing the game on separate computers in our den. In fact, they had been playing the game off and on almost all day long. I wish you could have heard them laughing and carrying on.

Well, all of a sudden, Daniel exclaimed, "They kicked me off line."

"What?"

"They kicked me out of the game. They said I did something offensive."

Laughing, I inquired, "What did you do?"

"I dunno."

As it turned out, Daniel's and Miranda's characters were interacting and Daniel had his character tell Miranda's character that she was "gay". You heard me right. Daniel, in a playful spirit, called Miranda's avatar "gay" and Disney's Politically Correct police laid down the law...72 hours...no game. No one else was present in the gaming area where they were playing. Oh well.

I could have laughed this off and went on about my business. But, no, I used it to explain the importance of knowing what flavor Kool-Aid you might be drinking.

We are in the middle of a heated political debate...Obama vs. McCain...Left vs. Right...Liberal vs. Conservative. And don't think for one minute that you're not drinking somebody's Kool-Aid. So, you better be aware what flavor it is.

First off, let's get this out of the way. What Daniel did was insensitive. Hopefully, this will help him realize that not everyone is like him. However, it gave me a chance to explain that Disney is not the exactly the benchmark for moral living, so consider the source.

I think you'd be hard-pressed to name Christian-inspired Disney films. However, next month, you'll be able to find dozens of Halloween movies on the Disney Channel, which will have all sorts of witchcraft. Sorry to be a Bible-thumper, but the Good Book warns against that. Miramax, a Disney subsidiary, has released several anti-religious films. Not to mention that the wonderful world of Disney has "Gay Days" designated for homosexuals at many of their parks. I don't recall them ever offering "Christian Days".

Now getting away from Disney, what news channel do you watch or what website do you seek for news? Trust me, they all have agendas. One of the things that set me off last week was a video by one of MSNBC's anchors. Clearly the guy is not an objective reporter; but, then again, maybe his show isn't supposed to be. He ranted on and on about how the Republicans were feeding propaganda to the public during their convention. Only problem is he's guilty of the same thing. What propaganda was he spewing last week? His beliefs...that he's right and the Republicans are wrong. I don't like the flavor of his Kool-Aid.

Well then, turn on Limbaugh. He's a conservative radio talk show host. I have to admit that I used to listen to him daily. I didn't always agree with him but I liked his viewpoints. However, somewhere around 2000, I realized that he's blindly carrying the water for the Republicans. Rarely did he see a Republican do anything wrong...it was always those nasty Democrats. His propaganda was similar to the goober on MSNBC...only the other side of the coin...he's right and the Democrats are wrong. Stale Kool-Aid...yuck!!!

Standing in line at the check-out at Wal Mart, I noticed the latest onslaught of propaganda...Sarah Palin is evil. Only in America! We place adulterers and drug abusers on a pedestal...celebrate their lives...look to them for wisdom. If you don't believe me, take a look at the magazines by the check-out stands. But a Christian woman who is standing firm for what she believes is now the devil incarnate. Puh-leeze! This country needs a check up from the neck up. We should be celebrating women of faith...not tearing them down. But that wouldn't sell magazines, would it?

Little by little, America keeps deviating towards having no true values. We're like the frog that's sitting in a pot of water. If you turn up the heat ever so slowly, the frog will wind up boiling before he knows that he's getting too hot. It makes me wonder how much further we can go before it all crumbles. Propaganda from opposing sides are hitting us daily and, personally, I'm sick of it.

I warn you to be careful to consider who's Kool-Aid you're drinking. Some of us make the mistake of following only what makes us feel good. But what feels good now may not be good for you over the long haul. Remember the 900+ people that died at Jonestown in 1978. The Kool-Aid delivered the cyanide that ultimately took their lives. The propaganda from this election season is going to get thicker and thicker...you can count on that. I don't care which side of the political aisle you're on, you're going to drink somebody's Kool-Aid. Trust me, forces are trying to divide us. So, again, be careful! As for me, I'm going to try to ignore all of it and drink Kool-Aid made from the Living Water. He said it this way: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God." Matthew 5:9 (NASB)

Wanna glass?

Genius...Yeah Right

If you've followed my blog long, you know that I am helplessly, hopelessly addicted to my iPod. Love it...don't go anywhere without it.

Well, John, my oldest son, was home the other day and he told me that I should download the new iTunes 8 software. He told me that it had a new feature called Genius that will create playlists for you just by selecting an anchor song. Sounded cool to me so I immediately downloaded it.

In my first attempt, I selected a jazz song by Dave Brubeck called "Take Five". I clicked Genius and, low and behold, 24 other songs magically appeared on a new playlist. It had selected Herbie Hancock, John Coltrane, Charles Mingus, and other jazz artists that I would have chosen as well. However, it threw in some "off the wall" selections that I don't think belonged. Take for instance: Kenny G and Dean Martin?!? In my opinion, those two don't belong on the same list with serious instrumental jazz musicians.

I tried it again with a blues artist...Johnny Winter. This effort proved to be more on target. It put 25 bluesy artists together and I was pleased with this list.

Not to leave well enough alone, I tried a pop playlist. For the first song, I chose Sara Bareilles' "Love Song". Genius followed that one with songs by John Mayer, The Afters, Switchfoot, and the GooGoo Dolls. Good so far, right? But who in their right mind would include Sara Bareilles and Jimi Hendrix's classic song "Purple Haze"? Not me. I wouldn't put Led Zeppelin or the B-52's in that list either, but Genius did. Are you kidding me? I can see Jimi Hendrix and Zeppelin on the same list...but with the B-52's...and Sara Bareilles???!!! C'mon, iTunes! I think Genius needs to go back to college to get more knowledge.

Creatures of Habit

We're a funny species, us humans. I often wonder what would have happened if God had given other animals a sense of humor. My guess is they'd be laughing their keisters off...at us.

The reason I bring this up is because I noticed something about my daily routine the other day. I'm such a creature of habit. There are things that I do that I have been doing the same way since I was a teenager.



Take the morning method. After I wake up, I take a pit-stop in the bathroom and then head straight for the coffee pot. Some days, I don't even drink the coffee until an hour later; but, by golly, that coffee's gonna be made. Then what? Head out and get the newspaper. After I unroll the paper, I thumb through to the Sports section. This hasn't changed for years. Well, I didn't always go to the Sports section. Back when Gary Larson was drawing The Far Side, I would always start there first.

How about my shower and shave? Same routine since I was a teenager. I get out of the shower and dry off the same body parts, in the same order, everyday. I have been using the same brush to comb my hair since I was in high school. You wanna upset my apple cart? Hide my brush. Angie and the kids have done this before and it's not a pretty sight.



When I shave, I always start by shaving the left side of face first, under my chin. Always! I've tried to do it differently before, but it turned into a train wreck.

What about mowing the yard? Yeah, I mowed my front yard today. I go in the same pattern every time. Boring, right?

Well, I can't help myself. I'm a creature of habit...and so are you. We're all creatures of habit. I'll bet that you do similar things everyday in your life. I'll bet that you've tried to do things differently before, but you wound up going back to your favorite way.

Well, here's my pledge to you. Tomorrow, I'm not going to brew my coffee until later in the morning. I might go for a run instead. I think I'll read the Local section of the newspaper first. Yeah, I'm going to shave the right side of my face first. In fact, I'm going to walk on the wild side tomorrow and put my conditioner on my hair before the shampoo.

That'll teach me, huh?

World's Are Colliding!

"This is not good. World's are colliding! George is getting upset!"
- George Costanza, "Seinfeld" - The Pool Guy, Season 7, Episode 8

I'm writing this today as a disturbed man...aggravated...irritated...my biscuits are burning. I haven't reached my boiling point, but I'm afraid my mental temperature is close to 210 degrees Fahrenheit. By the way, water boils at 212 degrees.

"Why are your knickers twisted, Mark?" you ask.

The answer: America, 2008

What happened to this country? I'm starting to believe that we've completely lost our way. Don't worry about being "dumbed-down" because that's already taken place.

Rather than subject you to my rants, I'll stop now and take a deep breath. The bottom line: We have to find common ground and stop playing "King of the Capitol Hill." And the best place for us to find common ground is through the One that made us all. Please God...save us.

Jump Ball

preparing to launch - check out the ball


mid-jump


caught it


stretch, almost got it


air Scooter


another one bites the dust


"Hey, fetch is fun!"


Scoot-man-doooo

I usually take Duke out to play twice a day. All of a sudden, Scooter has taken a new interest in playing outside with us. Before Duke joined us, you could throw a ball to Scooter and he'd chase it until it stopped rolling. But that's about it. He wouldn't bring it back. The same goes for a frisbee. And I figured Scooter was going to be a frisbee catching fool because he can jump like a gazelle. Alas, it's just not in his psyche.

But not any more. I know you're not supposed to assume animals have emotions like humans, but...

I think Scooter was suffering from tennis ball envy. He saw me and Duke having so much fun every day throwing the little yellow ball that he couldn't wait to try the game again. Or maybe it was the saliva building on the ball cover that made his adrenaline flow. Whatever it was...he's a believer now. If I grab the tennis balls, Scooter "comes unglued."

Scooter's probably faster than Duke, but not as focused. Duke stays on task when it comes to capturing the ball. But Scooter can do some flying leaps that are truly amazing. Check out some of these pics. John was present this afternoon while I was playing with the dogs and he took the photos. Good shooting, John! Good ball handling, Scooter! Wow, that sounds kind of weird.

One-Eyed Japper

You’re probably wondering… “What’s a one-eyed Japper?” I have to admit, it’s a good question.

Some days it feels like I’m living in a zoo around here. You can find more critters in this house than I care to admit. I guess I should blame myself. You know, the man needs to put his foot down…rule the roost…master his domain. But who am I kidding? You and I both know that dads are most content when our family is happy. If they want a dog, we get a dog. If they want a cat, we get a cat. If they want a snake, we get a...wait a minute...I’m moving out. No snakes are coming in THIS house. (Famous last words…right?)

A few years back, Meredith and Will went to Chick-fil-a to eat. On their way, Meredith saw a guy giving away cats on the side of the road. Do you remember George Bush's "No Child Left Behind" policy? Well, Meredith's policy is "No Critter Left Behind." And it's not like she can do anything about it. God gifted her with the Dr. Doolittle Syndrome. All animals seek shelter under her protective wings. It's truly something she has no control over. It just so happens that the guy giving away cats on the side of the road had one last cat that had a broken tail and Meredith couldn't leave without it.

I'll never forget the phone call I received...

"Dad, I've got you something...."

"Did you get me a Chick-fil-a sandwich? I hope you did, because I'm starving."

"No, but you're gonna love it....."

"Don't make me guess. What is it?"

"I'm not telling...but you have to keep it."

"Meredith, for crying out loud...if you picked up another animal from the side of the road...I swear I'm gonna...ughhhhh! Well, did you? Did you pick up another animal?"

"You're gonna love him Dad."

That afternoon, I was presented with a "birthday" present. No, it wasn't my birthday, but Meredith deemed it close enough. At least that's the excuse she used for rescuing the cat. Plus, she enthusiastically exclaimed the most important part of the whole deal, "It was FREE!"

Hmmmm....imagine that...

There's absolutely no telling how much money that free cat has cost me. Right from the get-go, the cat got into a fight and lost one of his eyes. Oh, we carried him to the vet, but they couldn't save the eye. My pocketbook took a beating from that surgery! Then there was a time when Meredith and Angie were convinced that the cat had a disease which was preventing him from gaining weight. So, of course, we had numerous lab reports performed to see if the cat had any abnormalities present. He also had an incident with a car door that caused a second notch in his tail. One day, Angie was getting out of her car and he was too close to her when she closed the car door. All of a sudden, the cat started hissing and jumping. Unfortunately, his tail was trapped in the door! He looked like a dog on a short leash...and the leash was attached to his butt. What a sight! Angie frantically digging through her purse for her car keys...the cat hissing and bounding this way and that...all while tethered to the car. Yeah, that was funny.

Did I mention that the cat tore up the screen on my storm door? When he was younger, he'd jump onto the storm door and look inside our kitchen. He'd literally be hanging from the screen...bobbing his head...waiting for someone to see him. There's nothing like having a one-eyed cat stare at you while you're fixing supper. But everytime he jumped on the screen, his weight caused the fibers to give way and eventually the door became an eye-sore because of the sore-eyed cat.

Meredith named him "Jasper." But, as I have a habit of doing, I enhanced his name and began calling him "Japper." Now Japper is the rogue of our neighborhood. He "cats" around like he owns the whole cul-de-sac. Dogs can't stand him, and he'll "bow up like a cut worm" if the dogs try to get him. He's run more dogs off than any cat I've ever seen. But he is most disliked by the birds. Throughout the spring and summer, he is constantly dive-bombed by all sorts of birds. Japper, the cool cucumber that he is, just lies around and waits...flicking his tail like a lure. I don't condone his actions...but when I see him under constant air attack throughout the day...I usually tell him, "Get you one, Japper. Show 'em who's boss."

And that's exactly what he did the other day. One-eyed Japper has caught about three birds this summer, various mice, and other varmints that I don't care to mention. He evidently takes great pride in these captures because he always brings them up to us on the carport. Now how does a one-eyed, broken-tail cat capture anything. I can't believe he has good enough depth perception with only one eye...but he obviously gets the job done.

P.S. If I ever form a blues band...I'm going to call it "One-Eyed Japper." The first album cover will have Japper bobbing his head while hanging from a screen door. Pretty cool, huh? I've already called dibs, so don't you dare try to take the name from me. Oh, and I wonder what I'll get for my birthday this year?

That Sounds a Little Fishy To Me

teenage years

Gather 'round, 'cause I'm 'bout to tell you a story...a story that's true...a story of love...a story of deception...a story that...well...sounds a little fishy.

Today is my father's birthday; and, had he lived to see it, would have been his 88th. I enjoy telling you stories on my blog, but nobody came close to my father's storytelling abilities. He was truly gifted! God gave him something extra in this department...and my dad used his talents to the fullest.

Parts of my father's teachings are interwoven into everything I write on my blog. So, I won't go into a ramble about the myriad of different things I learned from him throughout the years. However, I will let you in on a little story that he had his hand in. Hopefully, I will be able to present this vignette in his honor and give credit to his talents through my writing. So here goes...


elementary school days

Angie and I met and fell in love rather quickly. It was a "God-thang" as us Southerners like to refer to it. In fact, we were engaged within six weeks of our first date. Angie, as many of you know, is a beach girl. She grew up at the beach, spent her summers at the beach, and will probably reside at the beach when she finally gets rid of me. hehe


on Iwo Jima - WWII

About a week after I gave her an engagement ring, she headed off to the beach for a week with a couple of her friends. Actually, the trip had been planned well before she and I knew one another. So, I wasn't upset that she wanted to leave me so soon. Until she left, though, I didn't realize how attached I was to her. The week seemed like an eternity...days dragged...minutes began to crawl...it was as if time was standing still. And...ladies and gentlemen...this was before mobile phones! I couldn't even call her until she was near a land-based phone. Did I mention that her plans were to spend one week at the beach and then go to Georgetown, South Carolina to visit her parents for an additional week? Two weeks from my honey bunny?!? Argggghhhhh!!! Honestly, as the first week dwindled down, I didn't think I was going to make it another day. My dad noticed me becoming more and more dejected around the house that week.


the Marine

I called my dad "Pa" for as long as I can remember...just like Opey on the Andy Griffith Show. During the 1960's, Pa actually looked a lot like Andy Griffith and I had auburn-colored hair and freckles. Go figure...??? (Am I the next Ron Howard? Yeah, in my dreams!) Over the course of four years or so, Pa and I had made it a habit to go eat lunch together at least one time per week. It eventually became a ritual; and we narrowed it down to meeting on Friday's at a place called Jim's Seafood on N 18th St. Jim's Seafood is no longer there, but let me tell you...they had some gooooood catfish. We even had our own waitress that took care of us everytime we entered the restaurant. He and I had some really great father-son conversations in that restaurant. I probably learned more from him during those lunches than I had in the previous 10 years. The reason...I was becoming more mature and more keenly interested in learning from this wise man. He was more than my dad...he was my hero.

Well, back to missing Angie. Since Pa noticed I was pining for my girl, he made sure that we didn't miss our scheduled lunch at Jim's. When I entered the restaurant, he was near the back, facing me. Now, I should have picked up that something wasn't right, then and there. Pa loved to be in the center of things. Y'know, the middle of the restaurant...middle of the conversation...the center of attention. It wasn't an egotistical issue...he just knew his God-given talents were better utilized when others were within easy listening range. But that day, he was in the back. Hmmmm......

When I sat down, he told me that he had already ordered our usual plates and Evonne would have 'em out shortly. We hadn't been there five or ten minutes before he pulled off his Rolex watch and asked me if I could fix it. I looked at it and didn't see anything wrong with it. I handed it back to him and he immediately shoved back in my open palm.

"Yeah, Pard, there's something wrong with it."

"No, Pa, I don't see anything. It's ticking just fine...the date is correct. What are you talking about?"

"There's something wrong with it."

Now, I was beginning to get a little perplexed. But, seeing that my dad always shot straight, I figured maybe something was going wrong with the watch. So, I held it tightly and watched it tick for a couple of minutes. Then...out of the corner of my eye...a figure sat down beside me...a beautifully tanned figure...with long, bronze legs. I swear...the first thought that came to my mind was "How am I going to explain this to Angie if someone sees me sitting next to this bronze goddess?" Then, after a second or two, I realized that the tanned lady was...my Angie. I hadn't seen her in a week and...with her golden tan...I didn't recognize her. I gave her a big kiss and turned to Pa, who was grinning ear to ear. He and Angie had planned this little charade during the week. Wiseguys!!! He was keeping my eye on the watch as Angie sneaked into the restaurant. Wow...that was a great lunch that day!

Angie left for South Carolina the following week and I went with her. I didn't want to lose sight of her again. As for me and Pa...we continued eating together for lunch...even after Angie and I got married. It did slow down, though. And eventually, Angie and I moved out of state for a few years and we had to close the chapter on our Friday lunches.


now you know where I got my gray beard

But today...since it was my father's birthday...Angie and I went to Catfish Charlies. We ate a mess o' catfish and we talked about both of our dads. It was good therapy for both us. We were both blessed with great fathers. And if there's one other thing I can offer you, take this advice...go to lunch with your mom or dad this week if they're available. You don't have to go for catfish, but do go. I promise you won't be disappointed. You might wind up filling in parts to a narrative that's yet to be written.