Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2017

Archive for the category “Alcohol”

We’re Having Such Funnel

WE HAVE ARRIVED. We are now in the Megalopolis of Demorest, Georgia. It is a town that is bigger than a breadbox, but smaller than Tokyo.

Our accommodations are in the dorms of Piedmont College and I’ll tell you – these dorms are nicer than some apartments I’ve had. The furnishings are a bit “IKEA,” but better than stuff rescued from a curbside or dumpster that I have had in my younger days. This dorm has a recreation room with a big screen TV and a Pool Table/Ping Pong Table. There are laundry facilities that are FREE! And each dorm room has a private bath. None of this trotting down the hall to take a shower business. And, may I add, a very nice kitchen. If it had a stove I would consider moving in.

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It’s Been A Long Time Coming 

Don’t get all excited, but…I have a birthday coming up soon. If I make it to that date I will then be the oldest I have ever been in my entire life. I’m quite proud of that.

Getting old is not for sissies. It takes a lot of work – very time consuming work. Sometime I have to spend most of the day sleeping just to keep at it.

One tidbit of personal information – data, if you will, is that I have outlived every male in the family going back three generations – except for one uncle.

My Uncle Tony didn’t smoke. He didn’t drink. He didn’t run around with wild women. He lived until he was 90. We’re just not sure why.

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Congratulations To Heather

I WAS DRIVING AROUND TOWN YESTERDAY, taking care of errands and chores – the usual stuff. As I drove past the neighborhood Taco Bell I noticed something on their marquee. It read

“Employee of the Month – Heather.”

Nothing really unusual about that except that Heather has been the Employee of the Month for two months in a row there. She must be something special. Perhaps she can make tacos faster than anyone else. I don’t know, and to be honest – I don’t really care. Anyway I offer my Congratulations to Heather. I just hope that her obviously superior skills don’t have a negative impact on the other employees. People can be so petty sometimes.

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I Won’t Dance, Don’t Ask Me

I LOVE PEOPLE. THEY ENTERTAIN ME NO END. And they do it all without really trying. Anytime – Anywhere – There is a circus going on.

I offer up last Sunday as a prime example.

On just about any Sunday as soon as church services are over the people are out of there like the place is on fire. BUT… You mention that there is some free ice cream being served in the kitchen and it quickly turns into a prairie dog killing stampede. I almost got run over. I don’t know if it was the words “ice cream” or the word “free” that got them all moving. I suspect both.

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Happy Hour!

LITTLE BY LITTLE, STEP BY STEP. The universe is starting to listen to me and take my suggestions to create a better world.

Example: 

This morning I pulled the Toyota into the parking lot at St. Arbucks and I noticed a large sign tied to a steel barrier by the front door.

Happy Hour at St. Arbucks? Two weeks when their “Frappe-whatevers” will be half price. Well, Yippee-ki- yo – I guess.

Leave your day behind. Forget the stress and strain of the job and drown it all in a pancreas shattering blast of sugar.

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Throwback Thursday From May 2015 – “I Have No Rational Explanation”

Throwback Thursday

barroom-brawlWHAT WITH ALL OF THE TALK and remembrances yesterday about various bars (Where I was never actually thrown out) it stirred up a cauldron of memories.

That can be either good or bad. I’d even settle for innocuous.

I used to work with a fellow in Cleveland, let’s call him “Jim” because that was his name. Jim was an intelligent, hardworking guy who had a cadre of friends that I could only describe as “Freakin’ Nuts.” Jim liked me and on occasion he would invite me along for an evening of hijinks and alcohol.

I’ve never been much of a drinker. I don’t like the way most drinks taste, the way they make me feel or how much it costs to get me into such bad shape.

I haven’t had anything to drink in close to 10 years now, but “Back in the day” it was another story.

For reasons I never could deduce Jim said that he was a hockey fan. There was no hockey team in Cleveland. Jim had never played hockey. He couldn’t even tell me the name of any NHL hockey team. That didn’t seem to matter. Jim had found a bona fide “Hockey Bar” where he fit right in.

The first time I went with Jim to his favorite hockey bar we arrived just in time for their favorite sporting event: Golf.

Of course, their version of Golf varied from the standard game played on grassy courses worldwide.

The hockey bar was located on one of the busiest streets in the City of Cleveland. A mere detail to the members of the DGA (Drunken Golfers Association).

Their game was more about accuracy than distance. The first and only tee was one of the rubber floor mats from behind the bar. It was relocated to just inside the front door of the tavern. With the golf ball teed up the object was, using only a nine-iron, to hit said golf ball into the air, over the heavy traffic, and to see who could come the closest to the front windows of the K Mart across the street.

I know, I know. This whole concept was a bagful of flaws just waiting to be opened.

Abandoning all good sense I just sat at the bar and watched. When they abruptly slammed the front door and hid the golf club behind the Juke Box I assumed that someone had gotten a little too close to the K Mart. At least that is what the police asserted when they arrived.

Jim decided, after the Pabst Blue Ribbon Open Golf Tournament ended suddenly, that it was time for us to go. It was the only good decision made that night.

However…

Being a man with a sometimes inconvenient bladder I told Jim that I needed to hit the Men’s Room before heading out. In retrospect I should have just grit my teeth and probably wet myself.

When I opened the door to the Men’s I headed straight for my objective. It wasn’t until I tried to wash my hands that I saw – I swear to God Almighty that I’m not making this up – standing on the counter next to the sink was a dead pig. A dead pig with a lit cigarette in its mouth.

I don’t know.

Don’t ask me.

I didn’t try to find out.

I never went back to that hockey bar again. I felt that it could only go downhill from there.

This is a Stunt Pig for purposes of illustration.

The Latest From Unalaska, Alaska

YOU WIN SOME, YOU LOSE SOME. Today I found out that I became a loser.

Several times over the last couple of years I have posted excerpts from the Official Police Blotter of the metropolis of Unalaska, Alaska – a fishing port far out in the Aleutian Islands.

When I logged in last night to check on the latest doings up north I learned that they weren’t going to be posting the blotter on line “For some time.” Someone up there was upset. That broke my heart. There have been times when I would read the blotter just to cheer up myself after a rough day.

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Why Are My Ears Bleeding?

A FRIEND OF MINE recently posted a video on Facebook of her singing at a local bar on “Karaoke Night.” She was pretty good. She was also a bit tipsy by her own admission. Personally, I find the whole concept of Karaoke somewhat disturbing.

n105-8593-red-karaoke-night-block-1-neon-signThe entire thing that is “Karaoke” – Japanese for “Empty Orchestra,” is a fairly recent creation according to an article I read in a magazine. They date its beginning to 1970 in Osaka, Japan and a musician name Daisuke Inoue (which is Japanese for, “I can’t sing either.”)

For close to 50 years now slightly tipsy people around the world have been getting up and singing “Purple Rain” and “Let’s Get It On” in front of a room filled with other slightly tipsy people.

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I Always Cry At Weddings

wed1THE WEATHER IS BEAUTIFUL RIGHT NOW and I am longing for Springtime. You know what they say – “Springtime when a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of Chimichangas.” No, that’s not right, but then again…

Las Vegas, the Disneyland for Adults, is always striving to top itself. It all started out as a dusty desert gas station and has transformed itself into the tangible definition of “Will you look at that!” It is the only town where Elvis, Howard Hughes, and Liberace all felt at home. And they’re all dead.

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It Seems Simple To Me

giphy-1SOME THINGS JUST DEFY EXPLANATION. Others don’t merit explanation.

“The Brightest Flash of Light Ever Recorded Now Has An Explanation.”

That’s quite a headline. I would have opted for something shorter like, “Say Cheese! Says Heaven.”

When I saw that long headline this morning I had to read what followed.

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Let’s Start A New Year

New Year 2016 2We made through 2016, more or less, and now that we have crossed into 2017 I suggest that we start it off correctly – as God intended.

Watch a lot of football.

Spend time with Family and Friends

Nurse your aching head and make no sudden moves.

OK?

We’ll start over tomorrow!

Don’t Waste Your Time, Or Mine.

dead1WHEN IT COMES TO DEATH I JUST DON’T SEE MUCH OF A FUTURE IN IT. But don’t get me wrong.

While it does have a downside (usually six feet down) it can also have an upside.

Dying, after a reasonable amount of time, would cut into the amount of junk mail one receives. It might also eliminate a lot of those annoying phone calls from India telling you that, “Your computer may have a virus.”

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What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

4th7A LITTLE DRIZZLE NEVER HURT ANYBODY. This year on the 4th of July, the day for fireworks and celebration, we had low clouds and misty rain here in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “Has anybody seen my thumb?”).

The larger civic displays were postponed a day or more, hoping for clear skies. The rain, however, didn’t slow down the individual, beer-fueled, ad hoc, displays.

It seems that every year, rain or shine, there are countless people who think that they are qualified to fire off skyrockets and assorted quasi-military grade explosives in their backyards. The more alcohol consumed – the bigger the show.

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I Got What I Wanted For Father’s Day

Dad1YESTERDAY WAS FATHER’S DAY ACCORDING TO MY CALENDAR – another one of those days heavily supported by the greeting card industry and the world’s manufacturers of neckties.

I suppose if you are going to have a Mother’s Day you are somewhat obligated to have a Father’s Day. If you didn’t there would be a hue and cry about it. Therefore, we have a Father’s Day.

A few weeks ago my wife, the lovely and holiday conscious, Dawn, asked me what I would like for Father’s Day. Apparently she did not find my reply of, “The Monday morning after Father’s Day,” to be appropriate or all that helpful.

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Summer Better Than Others

summer1Well, Summer is ready to go into full swing here in beautiful Terre Haute (That’s French for, “You sure can sweat.”). All the signs of Summer are blossoming.

The colleges and universities are spewing forth a fresh crop of graduates – most of whom are trading in their mortarboards and tassels for paper hats and napkin dispensers.

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100 Years Of Turning Left

Indy 1946

Indy 500 – 1946

AUTO RACING IS BIG, VERY BIG IN INDIANA. This year it is even bigger.

“Why, Oh, why?” I hear someone ask.

The reason is that this year is the 100th edition of the Indianapolis 500 race. This year, as in every other year, 33 cars will tear around the 2.5 mile track for 500 miles – turning left the entire time.

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Cinco de Mayo in Ireland

5I WAS EXPECTING A PIÑATA shaped like a shamrock. Or maybe a sheep – or even a potato, but the perfect image for Cinco de Mayo in Ireland seems to be this.

While St. Patrick’s Day is celebrated around the world, including Mexico, with parades and festivals, Cinco de Mayo doesn’t get much play in Ireland. While the Diaspora planted Irish souls in almost every country on earth, the cross pollination of Mexicans into Ireland has never reached major numbers.

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People Turning Forty Shades Of Green

patrickFOR THOSE PEOPLE WHO ARE IRISH, have Irish ancestry, wish they were Irish, believe that they could be Irish, or just behave like they are Irish – today is the biggest, best, most misunderstood, most regretted the next day, and hard to explain to the non-Irish, day in the year.

St. Patrick’s Day or how a nice English boy came to Ireland under duress, and eventually convinced a pretty wild bunch of characters to accept Christianity. And all of this before Guinness brewed his first pint.

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Fiction Saturday – Untitled New Story – Part Two

noir detective officeI’m not much of a detective I guess. I rarely detect anything. Most things have to slap me in the face before I notice them. And then to string them together to come to some sort of conclusion – well, that’s pretty much dumb luck or the gopher I’m chasing gets stupid or lazy and drops it all in my lap. Detective? No, I’m more of a hog sniffing around until I walk right into the tree and dig up a truffle of proof. But I’m not stupid. I just let people think I am. It’s easier to get the truth out of them that way. They think I won’t know when they’re lying to me.

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Let’s Start A New Year

New Year 2016 2We made through 2015, more or less, and now that we have crossed into 2016 I suggest that we start it off correctly – as God intended.

Watch a lot of football.

Spend time with Family and Friends

Nurse your aching head and make no sudden moves.

OK?

We’ll start over tomorrow!New Year 2016

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