Back home

I won't be able to say "home" again in another three weeks - exactly three weeks from today, as a matter of fact - will I? It'll seem strange, probably, to leave Houston after so many years of living in one place.

[Took a little break there and started a future post, "What I'll miss about Houston". It probably won't happen again with this one, but I just had to stop and begin writing it. There were a couple of things on my mind that I wanted to say before I forgot how important they were to me. Have you ever had that happen to you?]


Anyway, I arrived safely back in my townhouse somewhere between 9:30 and 10 last night. Boy, I was one tired puppy, I'll tell you that! (Two full, jam-packed days in New England, some of which you've already read about.) Our day began early yesterday, with breakfast and checking out of the motel, before heading on over to my daughter's and her husband's new house - and yes! all was finalized and properly notarized (late, but officially signed, sealed and delivered the evening before!) .. by 8am to meet with the contractor and go over the plans for "my apartment", among other things.

I hadn't wanted to get up. After our meal out the night before, I had literally "fallen" into bed back at the motel, but then had trouble staying asleep. Too much on my mind, I guess. Lots and lots of stress early on in the trip. Most of the irritating things that were happening did not really have a direct bearing on me, but I was right there while it was all happening and it was difficult not to internalize some of it.


What was directly related to me was that Wednesday, as I was spending six or so hours at the motel napping, writing my last post and catching up on e-mails, I kept having this memory of giving my son-in-law both my sets of car keys and house keys at the airport here in Houston on Tuesday before going through security. My mind clearly remembered him dropping the keys into his carry-on bag. I was concerned that I would arrive back in Houston with no keys whatsoever. Yowsers!

I left him a note to that effect. He responded by saying that I hadn't given him two sets of keys .. only one, and he had dropped those into my new computer bag. (Prior to that, I'd placed the computer in my 'to be checked in' suitcase.) And, to prove his point, when we got back from dinner, he searched through my bag and found just the one set .. the car keys. Well, jeez!

What was happening with my mind? What was I doing to myself? Particularly after the broken bed slat story, which you don't know yet because I haven't told you (And it's funny!), I was starting to get more than just a little concerned.

He reassured me that I just had a lot on my mind, that I was inadvertently juxtaposing imagined events onto actual ones. I shouldn't be worried, he said. And so, I finally decided that it was ridiculous for me to think I would not have left the house keys in the car - as I always do! - and given him just the one set of keys, the car keys. So, I drifted back into a fitful sleep.

Later on in that long and nearly sleepless night, I got up and searched through my computer bag. You'll never guess what I found. ... ... You guessed it - both sets of keys - car and house! Ye gods!!


Moving on with yesterday ... ... we drove out to their new house in broad daylight and much cooler temperatures (More about temperature extremes in NH in a later post. They set records throughout New England Wednesday. Think they were almost 10 degrees warmer there - 97 or 98 degrees, depending on your news source - than in Houston! LOL). That's gorgeous countryside, folks, btw, absolutely gorgeous! (Again, another post on down the line. Hopefully, one accompanied by gloriously-illustrative photographs.)

Before we left their house to drive into Boston to catch my late afternoon flight, which was scheduled to depart at 4:55 pm Boston time (boarding at 4:20), I was given the old grill routine as to where my keys were. Well, as far as I knew, they were in my computer bag, safely ensconced in one of the many zippered compartments where I had placed them several hours before. I wasn't about to walk out to their rented car and unzip everything just to make sure they were still there. Would you have? I mean, I knew they were there, right? Right.

And so, off we went. I took a little nap in the car on the way and then, Bingo, we were there! John (s-i-l) got out of the car with me and escorted me inside while my daughter went to wait in a nearby cell phone lot, pushing my wheelchair* up to the checkin counter, where we said our goodbyes after he was assured that I would have a wheelchair escort all the way through security (he wasn't allowed to accompany me) and to the bar, where I fully intended to have a great hand-made margarita while waiting for my boarding call an hour or hour and a half or so later. Sounded good to me!

*I realize that most of you do not know about this latest glitch in Goldenrod's life. Not something you need to lose any sleep over or be overly concerned about, but I simply no longer have the strength to walk very far. More later, no doubt, if and when, but we'll just talk about my trip this time around, if that's ok with you.

There was only one little snag, as I saw it. The fellow who came to 'escort' me was the same one who had left us absolutely high and dry in that same airport just outside of the passenger loading ramp two days before. (Told us at that time we had to take seats in the waiting area, that the wheelchair was needed for other purposes. He was unable to take us on down to the baggage claim area, he said. Dear me! It was along about that time, also, that John received his first "Something appears to be wrong with the closing" message, and so the next - perhaps more than a half hour or so went by with John whispering into his cell phone and frantically sending out and receiving text messages to try and find out what the devil had gone wrong.) Anyhoo, this was the same fellow.

I was leery of continuing on with this inept, but probably well-meaning, fellow. However, he got me to the bar ok .. and, after I checked with one of the serving staff and found out that I would indeed be able to acquire a good margarita, he deposited me there and left (after assuring me that he had ordered a wheelchair to pick me back up at the bar at 4:10 .. plenty of time to get to the gate and be one of the first of the early "VIP" boarders on the aircraft). Sounds good, right?

It was a good margarita and I enjoyed every sip of it! Had a really nice visit with another passenger who was waiting for his continuing direct flight on to Portland, OR. He lives there, but has to come back to Boston about once a month on business. (My son-in-law will be facing the same type of thing once they relocate to the northeast.)

As 4:10 approached, I kept eyeing the front door for the 'so-ordered' wheelchair. None appeared. I paid my tab, told the bartender that I was going to start walking outside, that I was expecting a wheelchair at any moment, but would she check to make sure one had been ordered? Long story short, none had been (Of course not! Could we possibly have expected anything else/more from this person??), but it didn't take very long at all for one to arrive and I got to the gate right at 4:20, the announced boarding time.

I was extremely pleased with the whole situation, until I was told that we wouldn't be boarding just then. Oh, my! Now what to do? I certainly didn't want my 'replacement' wheelchair person to have to wait there until early boarding was finally announced. Would you? Oh, my! But then we were told by one of the people behind the counter to just wheel my chair back (away from the counter, but in plain sight) and I would be taken care of as soon as possible. I didn't have really good feelings about this, but didn't know what else could be done. I acquiesced.

Many, many minutes later (more than 30), the fellow who had said to wheel the chair back away from the counter came out to get me and wheeled me onto the plane himself! My goodness!! I was first on!!! (But then, of course, had to wait another thirty minutes - or so - for everyone else to get on and stash their carry-ons, but what an experience. I felt really special!)


The trip back to Houston was interesting. (We took off from Boston 37 minutes late, but landed in Houston only 12 minutes after the original ETA. Have no earthly idea how the pilot could possibly have made up all that time! A really smooth flight, and an exceptionally smooth landing.)

I had the fortunate opportunity to be seated next to a young lady who is a speech therapist. She'd been in the Boston area, visiting with her father and mother. Her mother has Alzheimer's. Hideous disease! The mother is only a year older than I am. The gal I was sitting next to visits as often as she can. Her father - same age as the mother - takes care of her ... does all of the cooking, cleaning, yardwork, etc. They've been married for over fifty years and he is 100% dedicated to his wife's health and well-being. I simply cannot imagine such a lifelong and sustaining love. Wonderful!

I checked with the head stewardess, as we were in the final phase of our descent into Houston, to make sure a wheelchair had been ordered for me upon our arrival. She assured me that one had. My traveling companion accompanied me to the front of first class, carrying my computer bag, where I stopped off to use the ladies' room. I was then directed to wait in the front seat. I did.

Very shortly after the last ambulatory passenger deplaned, my wheelchair arrived. I got on and was quickly driven to one of those moving cart-type thingees. Next thing I knew, we were all deposited at the top of an escalator to go down to the baggage claim area. Well, I took one look at that escalator and was pretty sure I wasn't going to be able to make it .. not while carrying that heavy computer bag. I was very much afraid of losing my balance.

I asked the driver if he could possibly take me down to baggage claim. Well, no he couldn't, he said, but he'd get me to someone who could! And so, the next few moments were spent wheeling madly around that floor - him talking on his cell phone the whole time. It was kind of funny, actually!

We stopped and made a u-turn next to someone he knew .. she loaded me onto a wheelchair, and away we went. When we got down to baggage claim, she asked me what color my bag was. I told her 'yellow'. (I'm a fossil, what can I tell you?) As soon as she disappeared around the corner to look for it closer to the front, I saw it. One of my fellow passengers grabbed it for me and hailed my fast disappearing escort. She came back and off we went to the outside area where buses were waiting to take arriving passengers to where they'd left their cars in a long-term parking area. She butted the line, got me loaded and disappeared almost as quickly as she'd arrived.

I had no chance whatsoever to give her a well-deserved tip. Same thing with my first two drivers. Just the darndest thing! I wouldn't have believed such a thing could happen had it not happened to me.


Anyway, I'm back, safe and sound. Have just a ton of things to do, not the least of which is get on up to Farmer's, where Larry Gray is no doubt waiting for half of my homeowner's insurance - due Sunday (Of course! Don't all of these due dates fall either on a weekend or a holiday?). More later!

Bits & pieces

Went to bed last night before 10pm (and no, I did not watch the 'great debate', as I'd already said in another post) and woke up about 4:30 this morning. Six and a half delicious hours of sleep. May or may not have dreamed.


Got up and checked Milwaukee's score from last night. I knew that the Mets had lost, meaning we were still barely hanging on by a thread. However, the Cubs have decided that they can now coast to the end of the regular season, having secured their divisional first place finish recently. Milwaukee won. The Astros are out.

We did it to ourselves, really, but the 'godlike' commissioner of baseball didn't help. Right now I'm a little turned off by baseball in general. I don't foresee a post baseball season withdrawal coming, but one never knows, right?


Wrote my post on banking (not political -- personal), cruised through some of my "Favorites", and then went back to bed for a short nap. This nap, of one hour duration, produced a recurring dream with variations which I'll have to share with you another time.

It's kind of a weird combination of the aftermath of Hurricane Ike and my continuing to miss exits as a taxicab driver while transporting a family of three (He is here on business. His wife and mother-in-law [??] are accompanying him.) whom I have driven several times before.

At least one point during this dream, I woke myself up by talking out loud to one of my passengers!


Went into the other room to catch the tail end of the local news, where I heard a couple of updates about Ike's lingering effects.

1) There are a large number of baby squirrels being cared for currently by the SPCA. Boy, are they cute! The caretaker, in responding to a question about why the squirrels weren't scared, said, "Their hunger overcomes their fear." I have two squirrels in my back yard. If they had a baby or two that needed to be rescued, I didn't find it/them. (They are still here, by the way. They're continuing to throw acorns on my patio roof just as hard as they can to try and crack them!)

2) I've mentioned, a couple of times, about our problems due to traffic lights not yet having been restored. This morning's newscast stated that all traffic signals should be back to normal by November. (!?!)


Got my weekly "fix" when Gerald Treece came on for his 5-10 minute Saturday morning appearance where he starts off with a short monologue on the topic of the day -- in this case it was concerning the 150 e-mails he's been getting daily on problems concerning Ike -- and then takes questions from individual callers.

One of the callers had questions about insurance companies, what they cover/don't cover, how long must one wait for an adjustor to appear, etc.

I get a kick out of him. He cautioned that the caller must be prepared to wait. Settlements don't come right away, even if the adjustor is there within the hour.

Then he said that his insurance company hasn't shown up yet, but they've given him great hope that 'someday' they will!


He concluded by saying, "Don't get down, Astros fans. Spring training is only five months away. There's always next year!"



PS. I haven't seen a cockroach since Ike. (Knocking on wood like crazy.) Now there's a mixed blessing for you!

Car troubles update

OK. (continuing from last post) I woke up a little after noon and called Micky. He said, "Did you get my message?"

I replied, "No, I was taking a nap and just woke up. When I realized what time it was, I thought I'd better check in with you to see how everything was going."

"Well," he says, "it's ready, but Helen, we found that one of the engine mounts is cracked (there are four of them). Do you want us to fix it today?"

I asked, "Do you have time?" "Sure," he says.

NOW I'm wide awake. Enterprise's website had advertised that the rental places are open until 2pm on Saturdays. I thought, "Wow!"

So, I hustle my bustle around, frantically trying to locate all of the things that were on my list to take to DD's place. I glance at the time. Heavens! I don't know how long it will take to return the rental. I figure I might be delayed at the rental place a half hour or more, and it's now almost 1:00!

I decide to initiate the return of the rental car, and then get over to Micky's as soon as possible after that. First, tho, I have to replace the gas I used yesterday. Boy, is that thing a guzzler!

The rental place is closed. Sign on the door says they close at noon on Saturdays. Wonderful! There are a couple more locations at dealerships just down the freeway, but when I check at each of those they're not even OPEN on Saturdays. Cute?

Meanwhile, of course, I'm on the horn with Micky, letting him know what's going on. He comes back with the info that they were not able to replace the engine mount after all. They didn't have the right size.

All right. I make another executive decision. I decide that I will pick up my car from Micky (It was perfectly safe to drive, but it might be making an extra rattle or two.), leave the rental at his place, and return Monday to let them replace the engine mount while I return the guzzler to Enterprise.

By the time all of this was accomplished, including writing a hefty check, it was going on 2:30. I didn't even have time to return home. I just called DSL to tell him that I was on my way, but was probably going to be just a little late.

He said, "Come on!" I told him that I did not have my umbrella with me. (It was spritzing just a bit.) He said, "Don't worry. We have umbrellas." I asked if he would have DD locate her nail file. (I had a nail that needed to be filed. It was something that I would have done at home, but I had run out of time.) He said, "We have nail files. Come on!"

So off I went, unshowered, hair looking OK, missing almost ALL of the stuff on my list, and with unfiled nail. HowEVer, I was now driving my baby, and I was happy.

Car troubles

I had a day to forget yesterday. Took the car into the shop for a grease and oil change. Two and half hours later I was still there, waiting for someone to drive me home.

Seems that the mechanic, upon driving the car out of the shop, g&o change completed, thought that the tires felt 'funny'. He'd inch up a little bit, stop, frown, and then inch up some more. Another mechanic came up to look at it. The owner came out to size up the situation. I went over to see what the devil was going on.

It was the left front tire. Looked like it was shimmying when the brakes were applied.

Back up the rack she went, where three guys equipped with very bright lights looked over the undercarriage, poking and prodding here and there. Finally, the problem was located. The bushing (part of the control arm in the left front) was cracked. I was driving an unsafe vehicle -- an accident waiting to happen. Ye Gods!

I needed to get home and wash my hair, take a shower, and see what I could do about renting a car. I had two personal customers coming in at Intercontinental Airport at 5pm, and I would have to allow about an hour to get there at that time of day.

I guess I got back home a little after twelve. First thing I did was call DSL (Dreaded Son-in-Law) to get his recommendation about renting a car. Micky (shop owner) had already checked all over the city. NO dealership had that part in stock. It was going to have to be ordered (not what you want to hear going into the weekend), and it would probably be sometime Wednesday before I would get to drive my car again. Heavens!

I have scheduled customers coming in and going out Monday and Wednesday, in addition to a doctor's appointment Tuesday morning. Micky thought he probably could have the part 'overnighted' in by Monday. Then, depending on what time it arrived on Monday, I might have it in time for my mid-afternoon pickup at Hobby Airport.

Well, "probably" and "might" were really unacceptable terms, but there was nothing I could do about it except try to get a rental car -- until Tuesday afternoon, it looked like.

So, I started shopping online. DSL had recommended Enterprise, so I began there. I entered Houston, Texas and then my zip code. The answer came back that there was no match found in the US. I should try another country. (???)

I immediately called DSL and told him what had just happened. He told me that the computer was just trying to "help". I said, "Whaat!" Went back to the beast and entered my zip code only. Five locations within a 3-mile radius of my home quickly appeared on the screen. (Guess I had given it too much information the first time.)

I compared prices between the various locations. All were exactly the same.

The good news was that I could take advantage of the "weekend special" at the rental car place. The bad news was that, if I were to keep the rental until Tuesday, I would have one day at the normal rate.

OK. Armed with pricing information, I called the location nearest to me to reserve a rental car. I intended to rent a small car -- not teeny tiny, but not as large as my Buick LeSabre, either. The person at the other end of the phone said that they didn't have any in that size, how about the next size up? I'm looking at the screen as we're talking, and say, "OK, so that would be --$$ for the special + one day at the normal rate?"

He says, "No, that'll be --$$." I asked, "Where'd you get that figure? I'm looking at the rates on my screen." "Ah," sez he, "those are the rates if you reserve online." (The things you learn when you 'supposedly' know a lot already. Amazing!)

Then, just as I'm preparing to hang up to make a reservation online, he adds, "By the way, try to reserve a car in the size you want. If it's accepted, then we have to honor the reservation and give you an upgrade." (!!!) He didn't have to say that! Enterprise will probably have my business forever (not that there's much of it, you understand, but still!) due to that young man's thoughtfulness.

All right. I call Micky back one more time, trying to get a better handle on when my car might be ready. He says, "I'm working on it. Give me just a few more minutes. I'll call you right back."

Well, I was out of time. It was going on 1:30, and I needed to be at the airport by 5:00. That meant that I had to be picked up at my house no later than 3:30, so I could be at the rental place and have all the appropriate paperwork filled out and on the road no later than 4:00. Enterprise required (on their website) a two-hour notice for pickup. An executive decision had to be made.

I said "OK" to Micky, hung up and immediately made a reservation online for the smaller-sized vehicle. It was accepted. I then called the nearest location again to arrange for a pickup. All was well. I'll amend that by saying that all was as well as could be expected.

Three o'clock came around. I called Enterprise again to make sure that someone would be coming to pick me up. They said yes. I added that I would be waiting outside. They verified my phone number. All was well.

I had not heard back yet from Micky, but I was not surprised. I've known him for a number of years. When he says, "I'll call you right back," what he really means is that he'll call you back just as soon as he CAN, which might be tomorrow!

Meanwhile, I knew for certain that he was working on my behalf. He didn't need any reminder calls from me. Contrary to Will, I want to know EVERYthing that's going on with my vehicle. I'm positive that this relates directly to my many years of being a taxicab driver, when I would put (on average) 1,000 miles each week on the car. (Now, by the way, I put less than 3,000 miles in six months on it -- just an incredible difference!)

So, I'm waiting outside. No one comes to pick me up. It's now 3:30. I call Enterprise again, and am once more reassured that he's 'on his way'. I ask, "What color car is he driving?" (I can see a car parked down at the end of the street with a person in it.)

When the answer comes, I KNOW that that's my driver down there! While still on the phone with Enterprise, I stand up and begin waving frantically to the driver. Slowly, he exits from his parked position and comes towards me. He stops in front of me, rolls down his window, and I ask, "Enterprise?" He nods and I get in.

He says that he has tried to call me, two times! I say, "That's impossible," showing him my cell phone. "What number do you have?" (One of the digits is wrong, what can I tell you?)

OK. We get over to Enterprise. I'm not the only person in there. I start to get more than a little concerned about the time. FInally, it appears that I'm all set to go when the person behind the counter informs me that a $250 "hold" of some sort is going to be placed on my account. I say, "Whaat!"

I only have one credit card. (One of the main reasons I got into such financial trouble years ago was that I abused credit cards.) And, my one credit card doesn't have a very high limit. I "knew" that my card would not accept a $250 charge or hold of any kind!

I immediately got on the horn to DSL, positive that this gal at Enterprise was trying to overcharge me. He talked to her. She talked to me. I talked to DSL again, and he said to go ahead and put it on HIS credit card. Ye Gods! I hung up in utter frustration, ready to blow the scene and try to disappear.

Meanwhile, the gal behind the counter had been running my credit card and told me that it had all been approved. I was shocked! Glad, but shocked. Out we went to see and inspect the car for prior physical damage. And yes, it was the smaller car that I had initially requested over the phone but was told they didn't have any. (?)

How could that be? Do they have certain numbers that they keep in reserve for online customers? Or, does that 2-hour window allow them to transport one of the reserved size to the required location? I'm guessing that the latter is correct, but I don't know for sure. I don't care, either.

All I know for certain is that I had a rental, it ran, had some gas, and I was on my way to IAH.

I got there around 5:15. Customers' flight had been delayed, thank the Lord, and I called Micky. (Still hadn't heard back from him.)

He sounded very excited. "I was just about to call you. I think we might be able to have your car ready for you by tomorrow!" "Whaat!" I replied. "How is that possible? What happened?"

Well, to try and make what has now become a very long story just a little bit shorter, Micky is a shop owner who works VERY hard to try and make his customers happy. He scurries hither and thither all of the time -- one second he's on the phone, the next he's looking under a hood or at a left front tire, the next he's running out to the mailbox to post something. He's constantly on the move!

While I was having my own problems getting a rental car, Micky was back at the shop scrounging up the part my car needed. I'm supposed to call him back later this morning (they close at noon on Saturdays). He couldn't promise -- they would have to test drive it first to make sure all was OK and safe to drive -- but he was hopeful. Incredible man!

OK. It's now almost 7am. Have been up for awhile. Hit the pillow last night around 8:00. Was emotionally drained. Just as soon as I post this, I'm going to send an e-mail to DSL, thanking him for his offer and advising him to read this post so he knows what eventually occurred. I never did call him back, but he didn't call me back, either, so I guess we're even.

Then, I'm going to hit the pillow again for a couple or three hours, get up, and call Micky to see if my car will be ready today. Am supposed to be at DD (Darling Daughter) and DSL's place by 2:45. There's some sort of belated "Mother's Day" outing planned. (The belatedness due, she says, to an inability to get a reservation for the date that she had initially wanted.) I must remember to take my umbrella. It's not supposed to rain. It's just that my skin can tolerate NO sun at all!

Meanwhile, I am extremely grateful to the mechanic who spotted a problem before it had another chance to overwhelm me.

The 'Stros

Well, I feel just the teensiest little bit of excitement building. After an abysmal start, the Houston Astros are now over the five hundred mark.


Before I started driving a taxicab back in '89, I had only a vague interest in the Astros, and that only because they were the hometown team. It's not that I dislike baseball. Quite the contrary. In fact, I still have my bat! (Used to have my ball and mitt, too, but they have long since disappeared.)

No, the reason that I didn't pay much attention to the 'Stros was that I wanted to play, not listen to or watch someone else play!

But when you're in the car a lot, -- and, as a cab driver, I was in the car a lot! --more often than not, I would guess, the radio is on.


I channel-surfed quite a bit at first, but then found myself returning more and more to the station that broadcast the Houston Astros' games. They had a 'color' man, Larry Dierker, who really caught my attention. He had such interesting stories to tell! It was obvious that he loved the game. I found his enthusiasm infectious, and then one day I realized that I was well on the way to becoming a pretty hefty-sized fan.


At that time, the team was still playing in the Astrodome, and taxicabs did not have to pay a parking fee to enter -- the assumption being, of course, that they weren't staying, simply picking up or dropping off a customer.

"Well," I thought to myself one evening after I'd dropped a customer off at the Medical Center, which is about five minutes away from the Dome, "why not stop by at that hotel right next to the stadium? You see the words 'sports bar' advertised all the time. Check it out, and see what's going on. Then, maybe you can swing by the Dome after the game and see if you can snag a customer."

So I started dropping in there, at first from time to time, but then more and more often. I became one of the 'regulars'. Well, this one night I got there a little bit late, and the game wasn't on. I exclaimed, "Whaaat!" I was told that it was 'blacked out' locally.

I immediately exited the bar, got in the cab, drove around the corner to the Dome, and was waved in through the gates. As I got closer to the stadium, I noticed a vehicle or two exiting and thought, "Hmm, I wonder if there's a parking spot available up near the front?" There was, in the second row ... how sweet is that??

The next potential problem was that of entry. I could see that they were still taking tickets (!!) ... why would that be, it was like the 6th or 7th inning, for crying out loud. I wasn't about to pay for a ticket only to see two or three innings' worth of a ballgame! Then, I noticed that there was someone standing just outside one of the service doors smoking a cigarette. As I continued to watch, he put out his cigarette and went back inside.

I thought to myself, "Self, I wonder if you can get in the same way he did?" Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? So, I tried it. Empty hallway -- no guard -- leading directly to the mezzanine level. I was IN! Exhilarating!!


Thus began a pattern of behavior that became more and more frequent as the years progressed. By the time 1994 rolled around, I was a full-fledged member of Baseball Maniacs Anonymous. I couldn't sleep the night before 'opening day'. My AM radio station was automatically programmed to include every sports station within broadcast distance, and I practically lived and breathed baseball.

When I would arrive at the taxicab staging area each day, I would be greeted with either a smile or a groan, depending on how the Astros were doing ... sometimes a laugh, if the Astros had done poorly and the other person's team had done well. That's about all I was interested in talking about, baseball.


1994 ... the infamous year of the strike. I was at the game when Bagwell hit multiple home runs. I was at the game that went over twenty innings. I was at the game where the fans were chanting, "Don't strike. Don't strike."

It didn't seem to make any difference to the players what the fans thought. Then, Bagwell was hit by a pitch that broke his wrist. He was finished for the season. The players struck, the World Series was played out on computers, and I was madder than ... (well, never mind what I was madder than).


1995 ... I attended no games. I listened to no games. I watched no games.


1996 ... I thought to myself, "Self, what you did last year wasn't enough. You need to actively protest." So, I did. I actually bought a ticket (gasp) for a home game, got there early, booed the Astros in batting practice, booed the starting lineup as it was announced, and cheered for the opposing team (have NO idea who it might have been, but that didn't matter -- it was the principle of the thing!).

It's a really good thing that I didn't take my bat with me. I probably would have been tempted to try and run out on the field and actually assault one of the players. Then, I'd have been arrested and put in jail, my bat confiscated, who knows what other nasty things.

OK. So that was it, my 'protest game'. I was terribly unpopular in the stadium, as you might imagine, but I didn't give a hoot what anyone else thought. After the game was over, I realized that my anger was gone, like it had evaporated. What was left in its place was almost a complete and total lack of interest, just a touch below the level of what it was before I started driving a taxi.


And there it remained until, maybe a year or two later, the announcement was made that Larry Dierker was to be the new manager. That piqued my interest, and I started paying attention again.


[There'll be another post on the Astros down the road, I promise. So much has been left out of this story. I'll probably be publishing a post or two on football as well as at least one on basketball. Maybe one on hockey. Soccer is so far out of my realm of personal experience that I'll probably never address that one!]


Well, as I said at the start of this post, there's some excitement building. To be continued.

This is it!!

Everything's all set ... all facts & figures ready to be entered on various lines ... just waiting for a callback from DSL to get his opinion on something.

I feel good ... not quite relief, yet, because it's not completely finished, but good!


While I'm waiting, I'd just like to share with you a few of my thoughts.


1) It's my daughter's 47th birthday today. Happy birthday, DD! (Kind of hard to forget that one, huh?)

2) It's COLD outside!! The news has it that we will probably not be as warm today as it is in some parts of Minnesota. Dear me!

3) I'm enjoying my red rose. (By the way, I just spent several minutes looking back -- a cursory lookback, only, you understand -- at all of my earlier posts, trying to find the one where I initially said that I had purchased a bouquet. Couldn't find it. Never mind. Not really important to this post, anyway!) It's GORgeous!!

4) Are any of you paying any attention to politics these days? A couple of things come to mind: A. McCain's supposed coming proposal to Congress of a 'rollback' of the Federal gasoline tax ($1.84/gal?) from Memorial Day to Labor Day; B. The pope's visit to our country. (Where are all the protesters? There are a gazillion of our tax dollars being spent on his security! I 'can't wait' for the hordes [some paid?] proclaiming the separation of church and state and decrying this use of our tax dollars!)

Income Tax time

Yeah, here it is again!


There are two good things I can say about this time of year ... 1) It's spring, and 2) It's my daughter's birthday. Other than those two (& they're important, of course!), this time of year sucks!!


For more years than I care to recount, I have filed an extension for my income taxes. This year, however, I have to file on time in order to be even eligible for the "Economic Stimulus Payment".


I received my official notice from the government filled with gobbledegook that is not the slightest bit understandable no matter how many gazillion languages you speak fluently.


Anyhoo, please forgive my paucity of posts recently. Since 'semi-retiring' last year, I've had to go back through ALL and try to figure out what the devil expense I can place where, what income I have to include, etc. It's an absolute MESS!!

I should say, in qualification, that it was an absolute mess!

Many hours have been spent in recapturing all of the details, and I am within a day (or so) of finalizing a return that will be accurate and 'audit-proof' -- maybe.


Talk to you soon, OK?

On being retired ... (or 'semi') ...

Goods and bads, either direction, I guess.


I have spent MANY hours today "shopping" around. (Any of you who know me at all know just how much I love shopping!)



I HATE shopping!!!!!!!!!!



I really dislike using the word "hate" ... think it's abominable, a word to avoid, a feeling that one should not have. Deep down, in the farthest depths of me, I try to not use that word -- or even think of that word! It's so (normally) outside of my everyday vocabulary usage that I have been known to go to great lengths to keep from uttering it.



ToDAY, however, I found myself spending (literally) hours on the phone, talking to receptionists, nurses, whomever the powers that be were that I reached on the phone, asking questions about my "WellCare" coverage.

Did it include this/that? What should I expect? Where do I go from here? Are you sure that I can do this/that?


WHY was I spending so much time on the telephone?

Good question.

I'll answer by saying that I am probably the world's worst procrastinator!! I put off until the very last second/minute/day something that should have been decided long ago.


We are now down to the 'nitty gritty'. Today is the last day to change one's coverage without penalty. Otherwise, one would have to wait until November.


You know what? I think I'm going to wait until November. Meanwhile, I am FULLY informed about all the "---------" that's currently out there, which is a whole lot more than I could have said for myself three months ago!

My 'possum ... (update) ...

Well, so far so good.

The creature's coffin is now outside, along with five plastic bags of stuff to be picked up by the garbage people.

I went out to the garage about an hour ago, fully expecting to be hit with horrible fumes. There were none ... hooray! More later ... ...


It's later, around 3pm, and I'm about to hit the pillow for a nap.

The garbage collectors came late today, but the coffin is gone, finally, creature and all.

My 'possum ... (update) ...

Well, you're too late.

I know all y'all will be very disappointed to read this. Some of you might be in the air already -- in fact, landing today. Perhaps others are driving here. Well, the 'possum is gone, as in deader than a doornail gone.


I had an early pickup this morning to go to IAH ... yes, I'm still driving some of my old-timey customers -- not enuf of them on a regular basis to pay the bills, but every little bit helps, right? ... and didn't get back to the house until four and a half hours later. Had just a 'ton' of errands to run, and you know how much I love shopping!

So, I took my sweet time and made sure every last item was crossed off my list before I returned to the house. It took three stores and one post office to accomplish it all, but it's finished! Hooray!!


(By the way, have all of you remembered to stock up on the "forever" stamps? First class is going up one penny May 12th. I bought 40. I'll buy another 40 in a couple of weeks, assuming the one store I went to still has them in stock. The post office was "out", would you believe?

Those ought to last me a good while. I use maybe five a month. That's only 16 mos. worth, tho, assuming I buy another 40. Maybe I should buy ten or so regular 41 cent stamps? Heck, I don't know. It's a gamble either way you look at it, isn't it?)


Now, I fully intend to keep this self-satisfied smirk on my face for at least the rest of today and maybe even some tomorrow, we'll see. (Very similar to how I feel after I've voted. I can be quite obnoxious, actually.)


But, back to my 'possum update. So, the car is in the garage, and my arms are loaded down with groceries when I see what at first glance looks like a very large cat basking in the sun just inside my garage.

I go a couple of steps closer, fully expecting the cat to awaken any second, startled out of a sound sleep, jump up and scurry away. Well, it wasn't a cat.

Guess what it was? Yeah, you guessed it first time around. I gave you too many hints, didn't I?


Finally, it dawned on me that there was no way my 'possum would be sunning himself. They're night critters!

So, I put the groceries back in the car and starting stomping my way towards the creature, all the while watching intently for the least little sign of movement or life ... the LAST thing I wanted to do was get bit by a sick or dying 'possum!

No signs of life. No movement whatsoever. I wasn't about to touch it! Ugh! Double ugh!!


O.K. Now I had to get rid of it!

Thank goodness one of the stores I had gone to was stocking their shelves, and I was fortunate enuf to grab several large boxes before they were compacted. They're still in my trunk.

All except one, actually -- the one I chose to dump the dead critter's body in.

I first lined it with old newspapers. We don't have our next scheduled garbage pickup until Friday, and I don't know how long it might take before he starts stinking up the garage, do you?

Then, I looked all around for my shovel ... know I've GOT one, but do you think I could find it?? (No) SO, I grabbed a hoe and somehow managed to get the creature's corpse balanced on it long enuf to transport him to his readied coffin.

Triple ugh!!!

Anyway, I'll probably decide later to put the windows in the car all the way up just in case "el stinko" decides to show up tonite or tomorrow. We're not that warm yet ... highs in the 60s and 70s, but still, better safe than sorry, I figure.


Now don't you be mad at me! I first posted that I had a 'possum that I was giving away, for free, on March 2nd. All you had to do was come over, find it, and cart it out of here. It's now March 12th. Too late.

My 'possum

Would anyone like a 'possum?

I have one. It's yours. It's free. All you have to do is come and find it and get it out of here, you lucky son of a gun!


For many years now, the garage door that opens to my back yard has been off of its hinges. In fact, it leans against my fence!

It's all my fault.

A long time ago, I had taken to propping the garage door open with a broom handle wedged against the knob whenever I left the house each morning so that the working (at that time) large freezer that was located in the garage might at least have half a chance at some air circulation.


One night I came home, after another long day of driving, and discovered -- upon turning on the lights in the back yard -- an opossum skittering along the fence, moving as fast as it could away from the bright light.

My initial reaction was, "Neat!"

The only exposure I'd ever had to opossums was in nature magazines, cartoons, television, things of that sort ... never in real life. I'd always thought, "How cute!"

Well, they're NOT "cute"! In fact, they're downright ugly.


I didn't think too much more about it, tho, until just a few weeks later, when -- again going out into the garage to get into my car and go to work -- I could hear this kind of 'fierce' hissing noise coming from the inside of the garage.

I thought, "Heavens! There must be some kind of snake in here!" (That wouldn't have been terribly unusual. This is Houston, right?)

I opened the larger garage door to the outside world and carefully looked around.


There was no snake. What there was, instead, was a much smaller version of the opossum I had seen some weeks before. This one, however, was warning me (teeth bared all the while it was hissing!) not to come any closer.

That did it for me! I shouted, "You're out of here, kid! This is my garage, my car, and I want you OUT OF HERE!"


The possibility that something might get into the garage while I was gone had previously occurred to me. Now, of course, it was a probability.


Well, never mind. I can just hear all of you castigating me now with, ... "You should have done this or that." (or) "Why didn't you ... ... ?" Hindsight is foresight, is it not? (The old "Monday morning quarterbacking" routine?)


Time went by. No 'possums of any size re-appeared.


One day I went out to the garage and thought, "What is that absolutely horrendous smell?" Lawdy, lawdy, it smelled like something had died out there!


I went to work, clearing out years and years of art stuff and junk (mostly junk!) that I had accumulated ... frame parts, rug samples, catalogues, swatches, mailing tubes and cartons ... I kept setting stuff out for the poor garbage men to pick up, and they kept picking it up, God bless their hearts!!

Twice, at least, they had to back up their truck to get all the crap I threw out! (I apologize for the use of that word, but it's the best descriptive noun I can conjure up at this time.)


All of a sudden, it seemed, the 'smell' was gone.

I had not discovered a decaying body. (I really don't know where the odor came from nor do I know where it went. All I know is that I was glad it was no longer there!)

Nonetheless, I kept my car windows tightly 'rolled up' when my vehicle was parked in the garage (does anyone "roll up" their windows anymore?) just in case an absolutely horrific smell might try to permeate my cloth car seats.


Within the past week -- again, lighting up the backyard in preparation to going out to the garage -- I saw, much to my chagrin, a 'possum.

I'm sorry if I might offend some of you folks, but I simply refuse to dignify the creature in my back yard with the word "opossum".


THIS critter, actually, might be the 'grown up' version of the hissing/snarling/teeth-bared one that I met not that many years ago in my garage. And, I don't think he/she would be one you might be wanting to encounter in the dark!

This time, he/she was on top of my birdbath, sucking on what had to be really stagnant water!

Well, I'd had it 'up to here' with this critter, O.K.?!?

I went back into the house, filled a VERY large container with water, went back outside and proceeded to douse same creature.

He/she just sat/lay there and seemed to languish in all of the attention! Heavens to Betsy!! NOW what should I do??

Well, I found a hoe, and went back out into the yard, advancing towards the critter, all the while whirling the weapon around and around in a threatening manner and yelling vile epithets!

The 'monster' refused to budge.

I continued to advance, brandishing my hoe at the forefront.

Nothing.

No reaction.

NOW what was I to do? I mean, I ask you!

I continued forward, until the hoe was actually touching the creature.

Still nothing!

Frustrated beyond words, I gave it a huge jab and lodged it off of the birdbath.

I watched as it just lay there, inert, for a millisecond, and then got up and skittered off to 'shelter' behind afore-mentioned "leaning back garage door".


Would anyone like a 'possum?

I have one. It's yours. It's free. All you have to do is come and find it and get it out of here, you lucky son of a gun!