WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

Christopher Cross sang about the joy and wonderment of sailing in his song by the same name. My boss Robb is sailing, if this would be the correct term for hopping a freighter in Detroit and plowing through the waters of Lake Erie enroute to Cleveland. The second leg of the trip will find him in Lake Superior and docking in Wisconsin. Robb is on day one of a four-day trip on a freighter named the S.S. Alpena, one of several cement-hauling freighters owned by one of our clients. This is an annual trip for Robb and he usually goes with an attorney friend mid-Summer, but for months their schedules, as well as that of the boats, just didn’t mesh. Robb decided to go solo after Scott bowed out due to a hectic trial schedule. While the accommodations are not as snazzy as that of a cruise ship, he has e-mailed me pictures of his living room with three big portholes and a picture of the view from just outside his room. That picture is above; the freighter is preparing to dock near the Cleveland cement silos. I have not been on the S.S. Alpena, but several years ago I visited a larger freighter, the J.A.W. Iglehart which often has paying passengers for Great Lakes cruises and the accommodations are very nice. The meals are taken in a dining room on bone china with crystal glasses – very elegant and you would never know you were on a freighter. Before the Detroit River Walk project was initiated, the cement silos were just a stone’s throw away from our office so Robb and I walked over to visit and have lunch a few times. They have a full-time chef on board and the food was exquisite; one time it was ratatouille and white wine in the dining room with the officers and another time we had hamburgers and massive onion rings in the ship’s galley. Robb has certainly developed an affinity for sailing. Over the last year he was on a large yacht sailing the Galapagos Islands for the Christmas/New Year’s holiday and then April found him sailing aboard a catamaran in The Great Barrier Reef and now he is aboard a freighter in the chilly waters of the Great Lakes. Hopefully, he will find a good night’s rest with the lapping of the water against this huge steamship and just a bit of paradise with the wind whipping in his face and hair. This landlubber will be visited by Mr. Sandman just as quickly after walking nearly five miles this morning.

Fog

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
~Carl Sandburg

This morning the fog enveloped the low parts of Council Point Park making the soccer field look like vapor was rising out of it and it was an eerie-looking phenomenon. Well, there was fog … but no felines to be found at the Park because canines ruled instead.

I saw a couple of funny things while walking the Park perimeter that I must share with you. First, the title for this blog post is “See Spot run!” because I saw a young man rollerblading with his Dalmatian dog. It struck my funny bone since the dog was running very fast on a long red leash and his owner was trying his best to keep up on his rollerblades. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a Dalmatian up close and this one must have had easily a thousand black spots on its white body and I wished I had a black Sharpie to play connect the dots. The tall man was wearing a rugby shirt in red and white stripes and white bike shorts and was hunched over a little and looked like a candy cane. The bold contrast of stripes versus dots made a colorful and comical picture. I’ll just bet that Dick and Jane never thought to strap on their roller skates and chase after Spot in the old “Fun With Dick and Jane” readers.

Next, I also saw a man biking with his Bull Mastiff dog. This big dog looked as if he was doing all the hard work, while wearing the perpetual scowl that Bull Mastiffs generally do. The biker was flushed and pedaling fast and furiously in an effort to keep up with his galloping dog.

The last scenario was just before I left the perimeter path to head home. I often see a couple of walkers, a man and woman, who usually walk side-by-side, but sometimes the man is there alone on his rollerblades, skating along the perimeter path and pushing a white, mesh-encased baby stroller. I always thought ‘how nice he takes his baby out for a walk and gets his own exercise at the same time’ and I just assumed he was a stay-at-home dad with child-care responsibilities. We always pass the time of day and I never once looked into the stroller as we passed one another. This morning I saw the couple along the path and each one was pushing a stroller … now that piqued my interest. They waved “hi” and I caught up with them in the parking lot when I finished the trail. They were unpacking the strollers and lifting out their “babies” who were two small dogs! Can you say spoiled rotten pets?

Whatever makes you happy but it sure looked like the Park was going to the dogs this morning.

Weather wise, it was a stellar Hump Day. Thankfully I departed using two feet, not four wheels (or on four legs) and I walked an easy three and half miles before I got home. I wish we could bottle up this weather and have it year-round.

I often check the trending videos on Comcast when I log onto my e-mail. I cherry pick the ones to watch. I don’t know alot of the new celebrities and the ones I’ve heard of like Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber, well … I just bypass their antics. Sometimes I’ll check out videos about clever critters or the babies laughing non-stop … but even they can get old after awhile. I had not heard of the thirty second “Hump Day” commercial from Geico until it became the subject of Facebook chatter so I hopped onto YouTube to take a peek. I’ll bet the ad agency behind Geico’s “Hump Day” is destined to win a coveted CLIO award for this clever commercial. If you’ve not seen it yet, here’s a link to the ad: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWBhP0EQ1lA

I Googled to find out some background on Caleb the camel who has surpassed Old Joe from the Camel cigarette commercials in popularity. Caleb was paid a flat fee for his appearance at the workplace where he wanted everyone to answer “it’s Hump Day” to his query to guess what day it is. There are over 13 million views on YouTube of this video already.

Just like Caleb’s twin bumps on his back, I’ve got two stories to share today.

The picture accompanying this blog post is me with a camel named Missouri in front of the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt which was a port of call on a Greek Islands cruise I took in September 1981. I was part of an American Express tour group and the agent had booked our entire party to take a camelback excursion around the Great Pyramid. There were fifty camels in the caravan, each named for one of the fifty U.S. states. I asked for “Michigan” but he was already taken by the time I climbed aboard. It was a bumpy but memorable ride. Each camel had its own camel driver. I asked our tour guide to snap some pictures of me sitting on Missouri and then standing next to him when we concluded the ride. You don’t dismount a camel like a horse … the camel is positioned like above and you climb on or off and the camel raises back up again. I had another picture taken standing next to Missouri and his camel driver who removed his keffiyah scarf from his cap and plunked it on my head for a very touristy photo. Yes I was uncomfortable as I’d never shared a hat with anyone before and it was dirty and sweat-stained … ewwwww!!!

I also have a story to tell about animals in the workplace and it wasn’t “Bring Your Dog to Work Day”. When I worked at Young & Rubicam ad agency, our major client was Lincoln-Mercury. I worked in the Creative Department as a secretary. If you’re old enough to remember the Mercury Cougar ads and the snarling cougar sitting atop the Lincoln-Mercury dealership sign, you’ll remember Tom-Tom the cougar who starred in those ads. Tom-Tom wasn’t the only frisky feline in Mercury’s car ads. There were automobiles named Bobcat and Lynx, each with their respective namesake mascots. One day our downtown Detroit ad agency, which created those memorable auto ads, was paid a visit by the trio of famous cats, each accompanied by a handler. The bobcat and lynx, whose names I no longer recall, were playful and their nails kept getting caught on the common area carpeting while they were walking around the halls for the meet-and-greet event. Tom-Tom, the famous cougar, had a main handler and a stand-by handler and the visit was a P.R. photo opportunity with the president of Y&R’s Detroit office. Tom-Tom was posed in the prez’ executive chair in the corner office with a pen in one paw. We were allowed to take pictures alongside Tom-Tom and the other cats and I have a few pictures in a scrapbook tucked away in a cupboard. We never got to see Tom-Tom’s famous growl, because that growl is only done on cue with the incentive being a big chunk of meat dangling in front of him. But no matter, it was great fun and we were treated to a visit by a trio of stars, though Tom-Tom was more famous than the others. And … just in case you are wondering, yes, Tom-Tom had 8 X 10 pics of himself handed out, autographed with a paw print.

Yesterday, I struggled with the wayward drawstring on my sweatpants, and that apparently set the tone for the rest of the day. Well, it was Monday after all.

After I came home following the sweatpants debacle, I removed, then washed my eyeglasses and while drying them, they fell apart before my very eyes. First, I should mention that I absolutely detest the glasses I wear 90% of the time, a/k/a as my “good glasses”. They slide down my nose and don’t hook properly on my ears. If the optometrist tweaks them to make them fit tighter, I end up returning the next day to have them loosened and vice versa. After wearing contact lenses for 35 years, I still am not completely used to wearing glasses full time. My old glasses are the ones I wear to walk, exercise or do anything that requires more head movement than merely staring at the computer screen. Granted, my old glasses are a prescription from a decade ago, but they are very comfortable and I don’t even know I am wearing them. But suddenly they were in multiple pieces on the counter. First, the screw popped out, followed by the left lens shortly thereafter. I cursed a little, but figured no problem – I have an eyeglass repair kit. I was confident I could do the repair … I mean, how difficult is it to pop the screw back in the hinge and tighten it? I have small hands but they might as well have belonged to a large man because I was all fingers and very clumsy. Plus, I could not see close up without taking my other glasses off and then I could see nothing. Well that was irritating. The kit provided a handy-dandy magnifying glass but it didn’t do much good. How do brain surgeons do intricate surgery? They simply can’t fumble and be all fingers to do such a painstaking, exacting job. I dropped the *&^% screw at least a dozen times and when I finally got it fastened in properly, the frame wobbled. Clearly another screw was needed. In the kit were various screws, but none of them were the correct size. One hour after starting the procedure, it got the better of me and I scooped everything up and put it into a large Ziploc bag and decided to go to my eye doctor’s office for “the fix”. I took along my repair kit to show I gave it the old college try before throwing myself at their mercy. I’m happy to report the optometrist’s assistant took pity on me and despite my not having purchased the eyeglasses there she fixed them up in a minute. She laughed at my story about being all thumbs and told me I put the screw in upside down and only one screw is needed. I told her I would not be a candidate to assist in the surgical suite anytime soon.

But wait … the last of the trio of calamities was just before I went to bed last night. I walked over to the sink to get a glass of water and while walking across the kitchen floor I could feel a tugging on the underside of my shoe and that unmistakable feeling of sticking to the floor. Glancing down, I saw a splotch of undetermined origin and wiped it up, then quickly went to the kitchen chair to remove my left moose skin moccasin to see what was on the sole. I was half-afraid to turn it over. In the end, I never noticed if anything was sticky because my mouth gaped open when I saw the entire sole on the shoe was split in half! I believe things happen for a reason. I feel fortunate that I didn’t catch the sole on something and wipe out. The other shoe was perfectly fine. I never wear these shoes downstairs or outside. The sole was clearly worn down on both shoes and they are only about a year old. This leads me to believe that I am putting the mileage on my moccasins inside the house as much as my outside walking. But, I’ve logged nearly 500 miles in my walking shoes over 2012 and 2013 and they are not beat up at all. Perhaps I should start measuring how many miles I walk inside per day because clearly I am rackin’ em up bigtime. My house is very small and I spend most of my day in the 15 X 15 foot kitchen. Can these miles be tallied into my daily total or should I remain a purist and just count outside miles walked? Decisions, decisions … I guess I’ll take the high road and just count outside mileage.

At any rate, my boss was out this morning so I decided to take care of business and get my glasses fixed and buy new moccasins which added another eight miles to the car odometer – all the more for me to walk to surpass the car mileage. Sigh! Feet don’t fail me now….

The alarm rang and I snapped it off and snuggled down further beneath the extra blanket I put on the bed last night. Mmmmmm … felt so good. But, I am a creature of habit and those extra few minutes of slumbering indulgence put a chink into my morning routine. When it was light enough outside to leave, I got a fresh sweat suit out of the bureau drawer and finished getting dressed. When I went to hook my pedometer leash to the sweatpants’ drawstring for safekeeping, I saw a white twisty tie on the drawstring. I was puzzled. I’d not seen these sweats since I packed them away in the Spring. Was there a hole that would embarrass me if I went out in them? I glanced in the mirror – nothing. I sighed and pulled first the top off, then the pants and gave each a cursory look. Well, no holes visible, so I guess I was good to go. I still had the niggling feeling something wasn’t right though. I shrugged my shoulders and slid into my cardigan sweatshirt, laced up my shoes and left. Good thing I didn’t remove the twisty tie from where I found it, because I was about two blocks from the house when my sweatpants started slip-slidin’ away. I looked down and I couldn’t see the tops of my shoes. Oh my! So that little twisty tie was supposed to remind me that I needed to deal with the drawstring before wearing these pants again. Oops! Well … the morning was glorious and I was enjoying my walk and I was not going to interrupt my plans just because my pants were not staying hitched up. All the efforts to earn those Brownie and Girl Guides badges for emergency preparedness were not wasted. I jerry-rigged the twisty tie on the drawstring and drew it up through a buttonhole on my cardigan. However, while that was clever, I was wearing low-rise socks and now high-rise pants which made for a strange combo or the “waitin’ for the floods” look. It didn’t matter because it was a workable option and I made it home without any further wardrobe malfunctions. Now I know how Janet Jackson felt!

What a gorgeous Fall day. Fall arrived at 4:44 this afternoon and right on cue with the cooler temps and harvest décor aplenty. I love the whole Fall season and its trappings. I enjoy watching the homeowners outdoing one another with clever Fall decorations before the Halloween items get dragged out. I’m not a fan of those blow-up, bigger-than-life monsters or neon Peanuts characters on lawns, but I like the more-traditional Halloween decorations. Today I saw people tying cornstalks to gas lights and adorning front doors with Indian corn. I saw a few hay bales and fake-em-out pumpkins that looked like the real deal. I’ve not been to a farm with a pumpkin patch in decades, but it was always a fun time and a great photo opportunity while picking out your perfect pumpkin or having your picture taken on a bright and sunny day with a big hay wagon in the background. Call me a by-product of the 60s and 70s, but I kind of like those groovy-looking psychedelic veggies. Nothing says Fall more than a cornucopia brimming with Striped Sweet Dumpling squash or those squash counterparts with spotted or speckled rinds. No cornucopia is complete without those goofy-shaped gourds or bumpy mini pumpkins which look like they have warts. I also like checking out the various scarecrows with their smiling faces and down-home charm as they stand guard next to porch steps or in front gardens. This year I saw girl scarecrows wearing straw pigtails with calico ribbons standing alongside boy scarecrows clad in checked flannels and denim duds. Their smiles are infectious and I wanted to smile back, but checked myself lest I should lose my credibility.

I’ve never seen a chipmunk but I use this little guy as my Facebook profile picture once Fall has arrived. He looks like he’s up to mischief with those cheeks all puffed out with corn kernels. You can figure the expression “squirreling away” comes from this time of year. The squirrels are scampering to and fro carrying corncobs and nuts and they’re fast and furiously digging holes in my backyard, not that it hurts the lawn. If you try to shoo them away they look at you and go right on digging. The squirrels haven’t put on any weight yet but give them time. They are too busy hustling for nuts and I’ve walked under several trees in the past week and have narrowly missed the kerplunk of a wayward acorn.

Speaking of gathering … I have accumulated my own stash, i.e. 300 miles in my walking efforts for 2013 as of today. I topped the 300 mark by walking a whopping five miles today. Just a few more days to best my car mileage but the weather promises to be perfect most of the week. As to my blog, I’ve not been woolgathering there, because today I made my 150th post since I began blogging in February.

A friend circulated an e-mail a few years about a chipmunk gathering nuts. It was an excerpt from The Discovery Channel. If you have the time, it is definitely worth clicking on this link. It will make you smile at this industrious little fellow and the pickpocket who tries to steal from his cache of nuts. I looked on YouTube and sure enough this little video was there so I am happy to share it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5EZB3nSEl4

It looks like we are about ready to turn the corner … the writing is on the wall. Soon the flip flops will morph into loafers then snow boots. Ugh. So let’s say so long to the easy-breezy, carefree days of Summer and welcome the action-packed days of Fall where calendars groan with school activities, commitments and soon will be chock-full of holiday reminders and events. The shorter days are also the precursor to the time change which looms large. Perhaps try to soak up the sun a little and put that good feeling of the warmth upon your face into your memory bank. Already, the porch pots and baskets have been replaced with mums in every color of the palette. They lend welcome spots of color amongst the yellowing leaves and soon-to-be bare trees. Porch sitting, stargazing and swatting skeeters will soon be forsaken, since sitting in front of the television, especially as the new season kicks in next week, will take precedence. The Tigers are playing their last home stand and doesn’t it seem like it was just Opening Day? That humongous Harvest Moon the other night not only triggered a memory of my parents’ stereo cranked up and Mitch Miller crooning “Shine On Harvest Moon”, but when I took a look at that big ol’ moon hanging out in the sky it looked suspiciously like an overgrown pumpkin and I knew Fall was not far off. Since Summer gets its last licks in today, there’s still time to head for a triple-dip, decadent Calder Dairy ice-cream cone. Yup, Summer is a goner Baby!

I want to share a beautiful video about the changing seasons with you. This is nature at its finest coupled with the beautiful song from the movie “The Cider House Rules” which you will recognize right away as the theme music from the Pure Michigan commercials. This was a serendipitous find for me and I listen to it often – it helps keep me grounded. Enjoy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=csnUV3Gz4Pk

The ongoing saga of September’s rollercoaster weather continues. It was hot and humid this morning and now we await the inclement weather to roll in later this afternoon. The sun just came out which will encourage the severe weather eruption. This morning I stepped out very fashionably in an over-sized fluorescent chartreuse yellow Cement Masons Local #514 tee-shirt and lightweight pants. I was strolling along and all of a sudden I heard incessant honking and alot of hootin’ and hollerin’ and some loud whistles thrown in for good measure. In my not-so-glam clothes, clunky walking shoes and messy topknot, it was pretty obvious they were not trying to get MY attention; sadly that boat has long sailed. But, as I kept on striding, the big pick-up truck, emblazoned with the logo of a local home improvement company, caught up with me. The driver stopped the truck and three young workers looked my way and shouted in unison “unions rule!!” A trio of thumbs-up gestures greeted me. I smiled and shouted back “yeah, unions rock!!!” and returned their thumbs up, then they sped off. On the back of my tee-shirt, the Local #514 insignia, a tradesman on hands and knees troweling the cement, is so large it stretched over my entire back and you sure can’t miss this neon color; I nearly glow in the dark. I am sure they collectively wondered in what capacity I work as a member of this trade union. Luckily there was no reason to explain. If they only knew that I am from the dark side … for the Employer. I will share this episode with my boss Robb who is a traditional labor attorney for management. It will make Mr. Day’s day.

I’ve amassed a collection of union and company tee-shirts, all courtesy of Robb. Before I started working for him at the Firm back in 2000, I helped him while he transitioned through several secretaries. I spent so much time training each successive secretary, that when the last one fell short of making the grade I volunteered to take him on permanently. He was grateful for no more newbies and proceeded to tell everyone in the world that I had saved his practice. For the next several months, each time he visited with a client he asked for goodies with their logo for his new assistant. I ended up with wearing apparel for all seasons and other client-related paraphernalia that ran the gamut from pocket protectors and key chains to flash drives and mouse pads. Alot of Robb’s work involves negotiating new contracts with various unions. After multiple bargaining sessions, once the contract has been typed, finalized and ratified by the union members and it was “sign-off” time, Robb often asks the union rep for two tee-shirts to commemorate the event – one for him and one for me. I have tee-shirts from the Ironworkers, Roofers, Cement Masons and Bricklayers’ unions to name a few. So, …shhhhhhhhhh, unions rule; just don’t let my boss know that I uttered those words!

I’m numb over numbers today. I have added and subtracted the clothes I use for walking multiple times this week, piling on layers 1 day, removing layers the next day, carrying extra layers with me just in case. Go figure … there seems to be no happy medium. When I departed this morning it was 61 degrees and 91 percent humidity which was a little cool but clammy. I really wasn’t sure what clothes combo to don when it was time to leave and ended up wearing 2 much.

Numbers were numero uno on my mind this morning. You must have heard by now that there was a single winning ticket from Wednesday’s huge Powerball lottery. That is an obscene amount of money for a person to win so I hope it was either a group who purchased the ticket or a good-hearted soul who will share. Unbelievably, this whopper winning is nearly sliced in half if the lump sum option is chosen and it whittles down to a mere $223 million – about $134 million after taxes. This is far from chump change, even after taxes! As I write this post, the media is camped out around the gas station just off the expressway in Lexington, South Carolina waiting for someone to show up and claim that big prize. They may have a long wait if you recall the last big Powerball winner who never came forward for several weeks. The gas station owner is already licking his chops over his windfall as well.

Some more numbers madness – what the heck happened to the Tigers last night? You will note that I said “the” Tigers. When they are as abysmal as they were in last night’s 8-0 loss to Seattle, they kinda sorta cease being “our” Tigers and instead become “the” Tigers. I can relate to the “our” versus “the” syndrome. As an only child, when I was growing up and did something well, like receiving good grades or some other achievement along those lines, it was “our” daughter as opposed to when I did or said something silly, then my parents would say “your” daughter … same principle.

Notwithstanding the loss last night, the Tigers’ magic number now stands at 5. I use their magic number to segue to my magic number in my personal race to surpass the car’s mileage with my walking mileage for 2013. Unfortunately I went on a four-wheel foray to get my flu shot and some apples yesterday so I racked up five miles more on the car. Right now I have 19.75 miles more to walk to equal the amount of miles currently on my car. I hope to accomplish this feet, er feat, within a week.

“An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” ~ Benjamin Franklin

For years I circulated an e-mail entitled “Thought for Today” to friends and co-workers … it always include a quote and some clip art, sometimes a link to a video and usually was tailored to a holiday or event. My go-to guy for great quotes was often Ben Franklin. I like his style. I chose this quote today because I took his wisdom to heart and went and got my annual flu shot to be proactive against that nasty flu bug.

As a child, I used to despise getting vaccinations of any kind and wished all my preventive childhood shots could be taken via a sugar cube. This is because, when I was a youngster, my pediatrician was not kid-friendly. Dr. Hamlin was recommended to my parents and he was a Englishman with a stiff upper lip, devoid of personality and when he spoke, his strong British accent made him very difficult to understand. I was intimidated by Dr. Hamlin. He’d jam that *&%# tongue depressor down my throat so far I’d gag and pull away, and he’d put his big hands on my shoulders to push me back down onto the examination table while giving me a disapproving look and harsh words. It was not like my feet reached the floor and I was going to peel out of there anytime soon, especially with my parents looking on. There were no lollipops in a jar for his young patients and no kind words to sooth my frayed nerves in anticipation of any of those seemingly endless childhood inoculations. No, not Dr. Hamlin – he’d grab my arm, swab some alcohol and “stick me”. I would start whining before he filled the needle and my parents, who remained in the room of course, would never have tolerated a tantrum, so I really knew better but … oh, I hated that man so much.

Fast forward to the mid-70s when I started on an allergy shot regimen for hay fever, dust and mold, that has continued for nearly forty years. These days I am fairly blasé about getting shots. I get two shots every four weeks plus I give blood regularly so I now remain undaunted when they drive that big needle into my vein to draw precious blood. I have small veins and it sometimes requires two or three tries to get the blood draw going. I usually come home black-and-blue but I contributed a pint for the cause.

However, the pharmacist jabbed me hard this morning. We were discussing the crazy weather and POW! … in went the flu shot needle. I winced and started to pull away, reminiscent of my trepidation from my toddler days. He said it hurt because it went into the muscle. I am more inclined to believe the jab was the aftermath of our conversation prior to him giving me the shot. I announced I was there for a flu shot and he asked me if I was using my Medicare card today. I very snarkily informed him I was not eligible for a Medicare card for several years and perhaps the better question would be to ask what health insurance card I would be proffering today. Do you think there is a correlation between our conversation and the jab? Well, I lived to tell about it and have typed ‘til my fingers were near-bloody stumps today so no harm done I suppose and in two more weeks I shall be armed (pun intended) for flu season.

I also made a pit stop at Meijer to the produce section where I loaded a bag with their featured apple-of-the-week: SweeTango. Who names these apples I wonder? What a fun name for this hybrid of Honeycrisp and Zestar! apples … they should be awesome. I am going to sign off here and crunch into the one that is chilling in the fridge alongside a generous chunk of cheddar cheese.

And if you’re wondering who said “an apple a day keeps the doctor away”, well – that would be another aphorism of Ol’ Ben as well.