It's What's Her Name

 

Chosing a name for a new pup is like choosing a name for a new born kid.  Too many choices.  Too many suggestions.  Too many names that just don't fit.  Naming this pup is taking time.

The Rule of the Red Ball

Our new pup is learning pecking order.   She's also learning not to take Zeenie's favorite ball.  If the ball is red and squeaks, paws off!  This would be lesson #1 as she learns to get along with the elder Poms.

In the first photo you see a block by Zeenie in keeping the little one at bay and away from her red ball.

The little one is not easily intimidated.  She waits for just the right moment and often steals the red ball right out from underneath Zeen's nose.  Zeenie's pretty smart and quick to react which makes this not an easy task for the little one.

The little one is slowly crawling towards the red ball that's to the right of Zeen's rear flank.  She's thinking that she can outsmart two year old Zeenie. 

More times than not Zeen wins out in the pecking order contest (a lot of staring and growling, then takes the ball and heads to a place that's safe for her to kick and toss her red ball about. 

Today we shop for a crate for the new little puppy to sleep in and for a small harness that will help her learn to walk on leash.  Teaching a young pup new tricks is not an easy task but she's a smart one and will catch on quickly.  Now bad for a tender age of 10 weeks.

For those of you in knee deep in snow, yesterday it was total California sunshine and close to 70 degrees as evidenced in these photos.  Eat your hearts out, people!

Dude, Where's Your Bra?

Gee, Jack Nicholson...are those B or C cup boobies?  You'd think a guy his age would (A) Take a little pride in their appearance, (B) Not pork out and grow titties or (C) Put a shirt on when your body looks like shit.

My gawd Jack, getta bra or lose some weight.

I should take the dude sailing this summer.  He's be a real hit with the other sailors.

"Can I get your autograph and feel your boobies, too?"

TGIF drinks tonight at the Elks Lodge.  Bottoms up, people!

A Long Story Short

A friend lost her 10 year old Pom unexpectantly to illness several weeks ago.  She's crushed.  It was suggested she find another dog to help ease the pain.  She says she will think about it.

She works.  She's busy.  She doesn't have time to raise a puppy.  Given those considerations it was suggested she find an older Pom to adopt, one that was good to go, house broken and self sufficient.

The friend says she will think about.  She's given several leads on fairly young Poms needing a home.

Telephone rings today.  It's the friend.  She has driven to Sacramento this past weekend and bought a 10 week old female Pom.  Three days later she has discovered that it's too much for her to raise the pup  - too busy, no time, never home - - - - what was she thinking? --- and wants help finding a home for the dog. 

This morning Wifey drives across town to see the friend with the idea of encouraging her to keep the baby Pom and to offer help raising it.

After a couple of hours of chit chat and crying, the friend says "no go" to any help but just wants to divest herself of the dog.  The friend says that she is still grieving for her lost animal and it's too soon to have another.  Gee, should have thought about that before forking out 500 bucks for a puppy.

Late this morning Wifey comes home with the puppy.  She announced that we have a new addition to the family.  I smile knowing that this would probably happen.

End of story.  Was it long or was it short?  Whatever it was it was definitely not a shaggy dog's tale. 

P.S.  The new pup doesn't have a name yet.  We're working on it. 

Who Wouldn't Want One?

Baby pups and kittens:  Who can resist not wanting one?  Damn, is she cute or what?!

I know one grown dog that can resist this new addition to our kennel.  What we have here is a case of "Who the hell is this and why is this four legged hound in my space?" 

Now children.  We all have to get along here....

You can see here that Wifey is holding onto Zeen to keep the peace between the new step sisters. 

The pup will grow to be about the same size as Zeenie and weigh in at about 8 -10 pounds. 

Looking Like Spring But Feeling Like Winter

I shot this a couple of days ago.  The sun was out.  Birds were singing and bees humming.  An ornamental pear tree just outside the kitchen window was in full bloom.  That's not unusual as it blooms this time of the year every year.

It may look like spring in this photo but it's really winter.  Today the weather has changed.  It's rained.  It's been cloudy.  And it's been California cold- - - winter cold in California is like high 40's at noon. 

Fire in the wood stove takes the California chill off. 

Just another day in Cowtown.  How sweet it is.

One of Those Days

There are nights when I suddenly I'm awake.  Middle of the night and awake for no apparent reason.  So, I get up.  One of the best things about being up at an ungodly hour is being able to walk around in the dark.  I love roaming the house, no lights on, dark as hell and successfully navigating every obstacle without a problem.  It's an exercise in seeing what's it is like to not having eyesight.

This morning was just one of those sleepless night and I roam about the house.  Hmmm, I think....think to hit the john.  To the guest bathroom I go navigating the way with out stretched arms that tell me when I'm too close to a wall or if there's a door I'm about to collide with.  Once there I lift the lid and sit down (when there are no lights on it's easier to hit the "mark" this way when you're doing one thing and not two).

The lid I thought that I was lifting was really the toilet seat.  I sit down and kerrrplunk!  Deep down and into the toilet bowl I go.  I had to laugh because this would be a trick I would have loved to have played on someone else. 

And that's how Bob's Wednesday started out. It can only get better.

Monday Humor

When we launched Sparkle Plenty into the lake we were assigned berth 70.  It was difficult maneuvering SP out of the berth so we asked for and were assigned berth 74 - opposite to berth 70.  It still was a bear to get out of berth 70 so we asked for and got another berth wayyyyy down the dock, almost the last berth in the marina, closest to open water.

Berth 96 gets lots of weather.  During a storm SP takes a pounding.  During the last heavy storm boats docked around her took on water, their dock lines snapped during 50mph winds and were damaged while adrift.  SP was secure.  No damage. Dock lines didn't snap all due to being tethered correctly.  But I'd like to be closer to the center of the marina, same side of the marina as it makes for easy in and easy out especially if I single hand the boat. 

So I asked for and got the berth next to where SP is now.  The new location is an improvement only because it's one slip closer to water and electrical outlets. 

Today I'll move the boat next door.  Then plot to get yet another berth closer to the middle of the marina.  Bob can be that squeaky wheel and Bob does get oiled ......in more ways than one. 

Here's a little Monday humor to start the week off with a smile . . . or is that a smirk on your face?

What Will it Be?

I can feel it coming on.  It's that old feeling there's a fork in the road that's just over the next hill and I've got to choose which one to take . . . a feeling there's change coming that gently washes over me time after time after time.  It doesn't come often but when it does, look out. . . . the times, they are a changing. 

This always happens when day in day out same old shit gets boring.  Like Ground Hog Day . . . remember the film?  Wake up every morning to a life where today will be just like yesterday is the constant denominator.  And it never goes away.

This feeling for change I'm talking about came years ago when Wifey was on vacation in Hawaii.  I was fed with with work.  Fed up with my surroundings.  Change had to come or I was definitely going to go nuts.  Stark raving banana's nuts. 

So I did it:  Without consulting Wifey in Hawaii I put the house up for sale and actively shopped to buy a business on the Northern California coast.  Be certain of this:  I walk the walk and just don't talk it.

When Wifey arrived home all tan, rested and happy from her two weeks in Hawaii and saw that the house was for sale the shit really hit the fan.  But she got over it.  Wifey always does.  We sold the house anyway.  The business I wanted to buy didn't pan out so we stayed in the same town, worked the same jobs and bought a new house a couple blocks away.   I got a promotion which made working in the same place a bit more palatible. 

Five years later when enough of the same old shit got to both of us..... we made the change and moved to a small town right on the ocean.  Wifey wanted to go into the retail produce business.   We found and bought a small market in a great location right across the street from the ocean.   Fruit and vegetables were sold March through October, then Christmas trees in December.  I found a job heading a small school district 20 minutes north of where we were living. . . also right on the ocean.   It was like an Ozzie and Harriet life we were living but without David and Ricky.

Soon after buying the business the word got out our high quality of fruit and vegetables.   Restaurants up on the down the coast were soon buying from us which launched a wholesale produce side of our existing business. 

To stock our market I'd drive the flatbed truck we had bought to the San Francisco wholesale produce market a couple of times a week.  Got there at 10 or 11 at night.  Handpick the very best fruit and veggies.  When the truck was filled to capacity (it had a 12x8 foot bed surrounded by 5 foot rails), I drove north along Highway One and back home.

Once home we unloaded the truck at the market, vegetable and fruit racks were then stocked and then it was usually time for me to go to my day job leaving Wifey to sell what had just been brought in.

The produce market was wildly popular.  As a result it brought in an income of six figures every year we were in business.  

So, as this need for change washes over me I wonder what will it be....what fork in the road will I take?    A business venture?  A move to an exotic environment (and we're not talking Vegas here, people)?  Or will it be the same old shit....and no crazy shit? 

Same old isn't so bad.  It's great life and I really have no cause for any complaint what so ever.  Same old just wears on me.  Shaking up "same old" might be the better choice.  Maybe redefining day to day stuff who that it is not so "usual" would make a difference in my attitude.  Save the crazy for another day?  Probably a good idea.

But sending Wifey on vacation in Hawaii and putting the home up for sale while she's gone still sounds like a fun thing to do.  Once a Bob always a Bob.....or so the saying goes.

In case you ever wondered . . . . .

Bacon to Chicken

Okay, off the bacon kick and back to chicken.  Lower in fat.  Much lower in sodium.  Better for you unless you speak Vegan.  Then it's no chicken and a lot of other things, too.

Last night Bob cooked this.  You'd have to really dig to find any place that can prepare something as scrumptious as this.  I mean it. 

Can't take credit for the recipe.  It's from Giada DeLaurentis on Food TV.  Giada hangs her boobs out while cooking which makes watching her cook more interesting.  Women complain to Food TV about the hanging out the boobs while cooking deal.   Nonetheless Giada keeps hanging them out.  Guess it makes for higher ratings.  I think hanging boobs out if you got them to hang out is the fad.  Don't you see a lot of ladies doing that? 

In case you're feeling creative here's the recipe.  Follow it to the letter and you can't go wrong. . . well, almost to the letter.  I used two large skinless chicken breasts instead of what's called for which really didn't change anything other than add all white meat instead of a mix of white and dark.  There's enough sauce involved to use four breasts instead of two.

By the photo you can see that I served the Cacciatore over noodles.  Carrots and corn were sides to this entree. 

Chicken Cacciatore by Giada
Prep Time: 15 min

Cook Time: 40 min

Level:  Easy - - Even Bob can do it.

Serves: 4 servings

4 chicken thighs

2 chicken breasts with skin and backbone, halved crosswise

2 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste

1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more to taste

1/2 cup all purpose flour, for dredging

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 large red bell pepper, chopped

1 onion, chopped

3 garlic cloves, finely chopped

3/4 cup dry white wine

1 ( 28-ounce) can diced tomatoes with juice

3/4 cup reduced-sodium chicken broth

3 tablespoons drained capers

1 1/2 teaspoons dried oregano leaves

1/4 cup coarsely chopped fresh basil leaves

Sprinkle the chicken pieces with 1 teaspoon of each salt and pepper. Dredge the chicken pieces in the flour to coat lightly.

In a large heavy saute pan, heat the oil over a medium-high flame. Add the chicken pieces to the pan and saute just until brown, about 5 minutes per side. If all the chicken does not fit in the pan, saute it in 2 batches.

Transfer the chicken to a plate and set aside. Add the bell pepper, onion and garlic to the same pan and saute over medium heat until the onion is tender, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Add the wine and simmer until reduced by half, about 3 minutes. Add the tomatoes with their juice, broth, capers and oregano.

Return the chicken pieces to the pan and turn them to coat in the sauce. Bring the sauce to a simmer. Continue simmering over medium-low heat until the chicken is just cooked through, about 30 minutes for the breast pieces, and 20 minutes for the thighs.

Using tongs, transfer the chicken to a platter. If necessary, boil the sauce until it thickens slightly, about 3 minutes. Spoon off any excess fat from atop the sauce (if you use skinless chicken there will be no fat to spoon off).

Spoon the sauce over the chicken, then sprinkle with the basil and serve.

One of Bob's Favorite Sayings

There's a bunch of sayings or phrases I use over and over and over.  You've read a few here.  Then there's this one:  Damed if you do and damned it yo don't. 

As I often use this saying there's naturally been a lot of practice.  It may come in handy one day......ya think?

One High Roller

In case you missed it, the America's Cup is coming back to the USA.  BMW/Oracle won the last race Sunday against Switzerland's Alinghi.  What's equally great is that the San Francisco Yacht Club co-sponsored BMW Oracle.  This means the next Cup race in three years from now could take place in the San Francisco Bay area, just a hop, a couple of skips and a large jump from Cowtown.

Oracle (software manufacturing) is owned by Larry Ellison who contributed a major portion of the 400 million US dollars to build a Cup boat.  Ellison also owns Sun, another software/hardware company.  He's worth 27 billion US and the fourth richest man in the world.  While it took a lot of bacon to build the Cup boat, this guy has a lot of bacon in the bank.  Larry Ellison is one high roller.

During the Cup campaign in Spain Larry camped out in his 453 foot yacht seen here, the Rising Sun.  It's the 6th largest yacht in the world and was built at a cost of 200 million US.

Ellison is a self man made who was raised by an adoptive family in Chicago.   Never knew his birth mom or dad.  Didn't have that silver spoon gift of wealth to start out with but just was in the right place, the right time, with the right brains and capitalized on the rapid growth of technology to make his fortune. 

What's also amazing is that Larry has three ex-wives and still managed to come out on top.  Guess they didn't get half of everything.  Ya gotta love those pre-nups. 

Whatta dude.

Would that be a D or a Double D?

Okay, I'm on this bacon kick.  What would it be like to wear a bra like this all day all the while surrounded in bacon aroma?  The store selling these bras would be chuck full of bacon smelling stuff.  Think about working in that place all day?  You'd come home smelling like a BLT.  Think they would sell bacon perfume?

Take a walk wearing one of these babies and every dog in the neighborhood will be chasing after you.  Woof!

How would you like your bacon?  In a pan?  Microwaved?  Made into a bra?

I'll take my bacon fried and placed in a lettuce and tomato sandwich.  Yum.

How Do You Like Your Bacon?

When ordering breakfast every waitress in every restaurant I've eaten in asks, "How do you like your eggs?"  Wise Ass Bob in response alway says, "Cooked in a pan."

Yesterday I find this photo, just when I've thought that I have seen everything,  which brought out a new prospective when dining out for breakfast:  How do you like your bacon?  On a pair of boobs?  On a bush?  Or in a pan?  Is some bacon in the hand worth two on the bush?  Ben Franklin never looked at bacon this way.

I'm thinking this picture is a reflection of photographic food art at its finest.  This might be the beginning of a new fad in beachwear.  Bacon strip bikini's.  Or could this be the foundation for a bacon commercial.  An ad featuring bacon that's worn during the Superbowl it would sure to be a hit.  Make mine bacon . . . on a couple of good looking broads.

Or, maybe someone will open a Bacon Sushi restaurant with bacon served like what's shown on the photo.  Bacon buffet. 

How do people think of photographing things like this?  Is it a matter of an artistic mind . . . or, was it someone who's hooked on bacon, or would it be part of their perverision - a fetish?  Never heard of anyone with a bacon fetish, have you?  Interesting thoughts to share at the next cocktail party.   I'll have to print a copy of this photo and share it for conversation over drinks.

When What About Bob? gets random hits from those in cyberspace land, the hits come from a Goggle search.  What brings some to this blog via Google is a post I authored in August of 2008.  The post features a woman whose boob job went south.  Both nipples were apparently taken off and reattached.  Consequently one looks up and the other down.

When first posted the meter that counts visitors here went wild.  Like this blog was seeing hundreds of visitors every day for about a week all due to the attention it got on another popular website.  The site suggested a visit to the What About Bob? blog to check out the boob job gone bad.  Maybe the publication Popular Porker will pick this post up and suggest to their readers to take a look see here. 

Ya think?

BTW:  How DO you like your bacon, kiddies? 

Dinner Dinner Birthday Winner

Dinner at Nello's last night, a birthday dinner.   Happy is as happy does. 

Dawn and Keith helped to celebrate.

Bob was put in charge of guarding the wine.  It was a special bottle of Zin from home reserved for this occasion.  This photo catches me in the middle of a sentence.  I think I was saying, "I'll drink to that!" for the umteenth time. I love being in charge of the wine.

Wifey had lemon chicken, Gracie ate spaghetti and ravioli's, Dawn ordered Cannelloni, Keith munched down a NY steak and Bob feasted on veal with Italian ham, peas and mushrooms.

Jim and Tom Have A Surprise

We know Tom (on the left) and Jim very well.  Jim is one of the co-owner's of the restaurant and had kids in Bob's school district.  Tom we've known for years and like Jim, had children in Bob's school district.  Both knew it was Wifey's birthday and together they cooked up a surprise.

At the end of the dinner they brought not a cake flaming with candles with a plate of vegetables with one candle on top of the egg plant.  How different!  How surprising!!  How very funny it was!!  You can see that Grace is not sure how Wifey is taking this special gift from our two friends.

Of course Wifey had to blow the candle out.  

Cake and Presents

After dinner it was time to head home for a come cake and present opening.

Rose at Baskin and Robbins made a special cake for Wifey well knowing her love for our Poms. 

Wifey enjoyed her special day.  I'm thinking it was one of those birthdays that will always be remembered.  It just was of those days.

AMERICA'S CUP 33

Here's a link to live coverage and up-to-date information on America's Cup competition sailing in Spain.   Sailing generally begins in the wee hours of the morning ---1 or 2 a.m. PST and can continue as long as 7 or 8 a.m. PST.  Check it out.  It's awesome!

http://valenciasailing.blogspot.com/

If there is live coverage wait for a moment for it to load.  It will appear in the black box at the top of the page labeled Extreme Ribs.....

Winner, Winner: Birthday Dinner

Wifey's birthday.  Dinner at Nello's Place - a Cowtown restaurant that's favored by the carriage crowd.  We'll have drinks in the bar.  Wifey always asks for a white wine.  Me?  Always Blue Saphire up, shaken, not stirred.  1 olive.  1 onion.

Once seated in the booth I have reserved the waiter will bring French bread along with an antipasto plate (I know the drill).   It's somewhat like the one in the photo.  A favorite.  Then salad.  Sometimes I'll ask for their tomato and anchovy salad.  It's better than an Eskimo Pie on the Fourth of July. 

It's always a tough decision to choose what to eat at Nello's.  It's all good.  Some things are better than o those which we prepare at home.  Some are not.  Take pasta.  My killer sauce is hard to beat and much better than what can be had in any eatery.   We'll pass on ordering pasta and choose something else.  Like veal.  Or seafood.  Maybe chicken.  Here's a portion of the menu:

Famous Specialties
Steak Diane

Pepper Steak

Bistecca Capriccio

Dungeness Crab Cake

Veal, Scampi, Scallops

Rack of Lamb (for 2)

Dungeness Crab Legs

Salto In Bocca (Romana)

Veal
Veal Piccata - Butter, Lemon, Capers

Veal Scalloppine Marsala (Mushroom)

Veal Zingara - Prosciutto, Mushroom, Peas

Veal Dore Francese - Butter, Lemon, Mushrooms

Stuffed Veal Rollitini (House Specialty)

Veal Cutlet Cordon Bleu (Prosciutto & Cheese)

Veal Cutlet - Parmigiana or Milanese

Veal L Bell Pepper, Mushroom, Tomatoes

Combination Veal Picatta & Scampi


Seafood
Scampi della Casa (House Specialty)

Scampi Fra Diavolo, Pasta & Tomatoes

Scampi Tempura (Beer Batter)

Steamed Clams Posillipo (House Specialty)

Australian Lobster Tail

Filet of Red Snapper Piccata

Filet of Petrale Sole

Calamari Steak Dore

Calamari - Fried or Saut0 (T & T)

Scallops Dore - Butter, Lemon, Mushrooms

Scallops Tempura (Beer Batter)

Seafood Platter - Scampi, Scallops, Sole

Lobster, Scampi & Clams, Linguini for 2 (House Specialty)

Filet of Halibut, Italian Style

Seafood Fettuccine (White or Red)

Surf L Turf (Lobster L NY Steak)

Scampi & Steak

Cioppino (Fish Stew)

Chicken
Breast of Chicken Parmigiana

Breast of Chicken Allegro - Butter, Lemon, Capers

Breast of Chicken Rossini (House Specialty)

Breast of Chicken Modenese

Chicken Cacciatora House Specialty)

Chicken Sauté Sec Mushroom

Eggplant Parmigiana


Is this making you hungry?

There's not a lot of light in this place which makes it hard to read the menu.  It's a good thing to take a flashlight.  A lot of people do.  I've got a headlamp that I'll pass around the table.  You know the kind.  Mountain climbers and backpackers use them.  It's a good idea to know what you want to order before heading to the restaurant.  Saves hauling out the flashlight or looking stupid with a headlamp wrapped around your head. 

What would you order for a Winner Winner Birthday Dinner?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO WIFEY!

You're the Best Definition of Good Intention

"The Dynamo Of Volition"

I've got the dynamo of volition
With po-pole position
Automatic transmission with lo-ow emissions
I'm a brand new addition to the old edition
With the love unconditional.

I'm a drama abolitionist
Damn no opposition to my proposition
Half of a man, half magician
Half a politician holding the mic
Like ammunition
And my vision is as simple as light.

Ain't no reason we should be in a fight
No demolition
Get to vote, get to say what you like
Procreation
Compositions already written by themselves
Heck is for the people not believin' in gosh

Good Job
Get 'em up way high
Gimme gimme that high five
Good time
Get 'em way down low
Gimme gimme that low dough
Good God
Bring 'em back again
Gimme gimme that high ten
You're the best definition of good intentions.

I do not answer the call if
I do not know who is calling
I guess the whole point of it all is
That we never know really

I'm tryin' to keep with the Joneses
While waiting for guns and the roses
To finish what we all suppose is
That shit's so silly

Oh, fist like pumping and wrist lock
Twisting up a rizla
Kid Icarus on the transistor
Nintendo been givin' me the blister
I bend over take it in the kisser

My best friends are hittin' on my sister.
Try to tell them that they still wish-a
Cause she already got herself a mister
And besides that's gross to want to dis her
Didn't I say, Didn't I say

Good Job
Get 'em up way high
Gimme gimme that high five
Good time
Get 'em way down low
Gimme gimme that low dough
Good God
Bring 'em back again
Gimme gimme that high ten
You're the best definition of good versus evil

I do not keep up with statistics
I do not sleep without a mistress
I do not eat unless it's fixed with
Some kind of sweet like a licorice
My home is deep inside the mystics
I'm known to keep diggin on existence
I'm holdin' in the heat like a fishstick
My phone it beeps because I missed it.

I do not answer the call if
I do not know who is calling
I'm making no sense of it all
Say, can I get a witness?

I'm only a boy in a story
Just a hallucinatory
Trippin' on nothing there is
Living in the wilderness

With a tiger spot on my back
Living life of a cat
I just wanna relax here
And write another rap tune
Driving off on your blind man's bike
You can say just what you like
Or nothing can stop you

Good Job
Get 'em up way high
Gimme gimme that high five
Good Time
Get 'em way down low
Gimme gimme that low dough
Good God
Bring 'em back again
Gimme gimme that high ten
You're the best definition of good versus evil

Good Job
Get 'em up way high
Gimme gimme that high five
Good Time
Get 'em way down low
Gimme gimme that low dough
Good God
Bring 'em back again
Gimme gimme that high ten
You're the best definition of good intention
You're the best definition of good intention
You're the best definition of good intention

You're the best around
And nothing's ever gonna take you down [x3]

You're the best around.

Thoughtful Bob

Mom would always comment that son Bob was thoughtful.  Even at an early age I was fairly adept at remembering birth dates and shopping for presents on my own.  Mom?  She always received jewelry that had price tags that a kid under the age of ten could afford.

Tomorrow is Wifey's birthday.  She enjoys celebrating her special day all week and this week is no exception.  The celebration began with Thoughtful Bob gathering purple tulips, this bunch of lovely's, and a bouquet of Iris ---all found at the local supermarket. 

Gifts have been purchased and "wrapped".  I hate wrapping.  Next to a root canal, wrapping gifts is right up there with things I hate.  So I buy gift bags to put the gifts in and lots of colored tissue to stuff them with.  No ribbons.  No bows.   No scotch tape to fool around with.  Kind of like eating at In and Out Burger.  Get in.  Get out.  All wrapped up ready for the birthday party.

There are three gift bags in all.  Each with something Thoughtful Bob bought as he remembered something that Wifey said maybe six months ago.  It goes like this, "It sure would be nice if I had....", or "If anyone wants to get me a birthday gift it sure would be nice if they bought . . . . "   You get the picture.  Having a pretty good memory comes in handy.  I remember all those things come birthday time or Christmas.  It beats wondering up and down the aisle of Macy's thinking, What shall I get, what shall I get?  What does she want? 

I'd like to shop the adult toy market for Wifey but that kind of gift won't fly with her.  When asked about what her adult toy preference would be Wifey replies, "We're not coming on that shit, Bob."  Like my mother, Wifey loves jewels for her birthday and not toys.  And so that conversation ends.  Ain't no thang, people.  Bob can improvise.  And does.  :)

I remember one particular drill sergeant during basic training who used to yell, "We're not coming on that shit, soldier!" when anyone screwed up.  How I remember during one drill the squadron marching one way and there's Bob marching in the opposite direction.  That earned me a, "We're not coming on that shit, Bob!" and fifty pushups in a ditch alongside the road.  On that day I did this twice . . . squadron going one way, Bob going the other.  It's likely that Wifey learned, "We're not coming on that shit! from me.  It comes out now and then when I'm more than a little pissed off. 

 It's funny what comes to mind and when or how it comes to mind.   Guess that was one of those unforgettable moments. 

Bob to Sarah Palin.....Bob to Sarah Palin:  About your thinking you'd make a good candidate in 2012......WE'RE NOT COMING ON THAT SHIT!

Sing-a-long With Uncle Sam

Rain, Snow, Wind, Brrrrrr!

The lake yesterday looked like this.  At an elevation of 1,326 snow doesn't usually fall.  At higher elevations snow falls and it sticks.  Take the tiptop of Shasta Bally here. You'll have to click on the photo to get a closer look.   6,175 feet. Snow, enough of it to last until Spring.

There was a wind blowing across the dock as I walked down it to check on Sparkle Plenty.  As I walked the dock I saw that the Old Salt of the Marina, Michael, had taken his boat from its home on a buoy and tied her to a slip just down from SP.  The mast of his boat had been taken down and it rested on the stern and the bow pulpit.  No easy task dropping the mast. 

Mike was busy on board replacing the electrical wire to the lights on the mast.  The wires run on the inside of the mast making it necessary to drop it to make repairs.  The mast lights on SP are not working and I suspect that the deck plug connecting the inner mast wiring to the electrical panel inside the boat is the cause.  A sunny day, a new plug and receptical along with a dose of patience should be enough to remedy the problem. 

Mike likes to talk.  Talk.  Talk.  Marina Bob likes to talk, talk and more talk.  I don't know how they get anything done with all of their talk.  Then there's the new guy who just bought half interest in an older but beautiful 30' sailboat just down the dock.  Just call me Den, he says.  What the hell is a Den?  Den Mother?  Den there, done that?  Anyway, yet another guy who likes to talk.  And talk.  And talk.

Me? When at the lake I go for the peace, the quiet and the sounds of nature.  You can't beat fresh air and sunshine all the while cleaning, fixing and tinkering with SP.  Bob is a man of few words but when he speaks . . . you'd better listen.  Or at least so the story goes.  Wonder who made that one up?

Scarf and Barf?

Taco Bell's new commercial is tempting. It's their five dollar box of food. Every time it's shown on TV I have to recite the Lord's Prayer. Not the whole thing just certain parts as amended by Bob. Goes like this: Lead us not into fast food temptation but deliver us from the evil of too many calories, high amounts of saturated fat, and spoonfuls of sodium. Amen.  Not to be sacreligious but it works.

Hold on, you say? No, you hold on, I say. Did you check the nutritional analysis on this box of goodies? There's two types of box specials from Taco Bell that can be ordered. One seems to be a litte more cheesy which makes for more of everything.   Pick your poison.

So, get this:  Depending on which meal that's selected the calories for one or the other run from 1,270 to 1,380.  By the book a guy my age, height, weight should consume no more than 2,100 calories a day just to maintain the current weight.  Heck, I could eat one of these babies and still have 830 or 720 calories left for dinner . . . if I didn't have breakfast and didn't drink a couple of beers later in the day and didn't have a glass of wine or two with dinner.   

But the really big deal would be the amount of sodium in fast food.  Having blood pressure that's right on the fence - that measures  at end of good and just into slightly high, watching sodium is a good thing.  That's Bob's order of the day everyday. 

A lot of people don't know much about sodium and what it does.  High blood pressure.  And helps to harden those arteries.  Yup.  How much is enough?  The experts claim that depending on your overall health 1,500 to 2,400 milligrams of sodium is plenty. 

Compare those numbers to the amount of sodium in one of these Taco Bell meals:  2,830 to 3000 milligrams of sodium.  Yikes!!!   Whooo hoo!  Man, that rings the bell and puts anyone eating that over the top.  And we wonder why everyone is dropping dead of heart disease. 

Taco Bell is not the Lone Ranger in serving up high amounts of this and lots of that.  All the fast food outlets do it.  Anything prepared and for sale in your neighborhood grocery store is loaded with high amounts of sodium.  Next time you're shopping check the label on that can of tomatoes, chicken broth, frozen burrito . . . anything and most everything that's prepared.  They're all loaded with high amounts of sodium.

I love fast food and I think I have a game plan to keep eating it:  Scarf it.  Then barf it.  No harm, no foul.  Right?  Yeah, Yeah, I know, that would creating a whole other health problem.  Just doing it once in a while can't hurt, can it?

If I were to open a fast food chain that's what I'd name it:  Scarf and Barf.  With every meal there would be a barf bag along with it.  On a first date Scarf and Barf would be the perfect place to eat.  Why not get down to the nitty gritty right off the bat?  Find out what that date is really all about.  Eat then puke your guts out.  Following that the dinner conversation would go like this, "Honey, you've got a little snot and some cheeseburger on the end of your nose."    How romantic and certainly a story to tell once married for 30 or 40 years.  Makes for great Thanksgiving table conversation.  The kids will love it. 

Remember:  The family that scarfs together barfs together.

One Smart Puppy

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?!

Better than NFL action. I'm talking contact!!

In Case You're Wondering:

Q: What kind of beer does Chewbacca drink?

 A: Old Milwookie

What's the Big Deal?

Back in the day I bought a 1947 Ford that was just like this.  It was my first car.  Dad said I couldn't have a car of my own and like every other interaction that we had, I didn't agree with his point of view.  So I went out and bought one anyway.  In his younger days . . . the wet behind the ears period of his life,  Bob would never take no for an answer.  Years later some things never change.

Couldn't drive the car home so had an arrangement with the owner of a gas station just down the hill from the house to keep it there.  I'd drive it after school, on weekends and even drove it to places like San Francisco (an hour from where we lived).  There was one roadtrip in the car with three friends to a Mexican border town.

This thing about Toyota's gas peddle getting stuck.  What's the big deal, anyway?  Back in the day that always happened to every car I owned and with every friend who had a car.  It just happened.  A stuck gas peddle or linkage to the carburator was just one of those things you had to deal with.  When it got stuck and the car started to go a lot faster than you wanted there were a couple of things to do:

#1  Open the doors and drag your feet to stop the car (not always the best or safest thing to do).

#2  Hang on and enjoy the ride.

#3  Turn off the ignition.

#4  Brake like hell and hope the throttle linkage stops getting hung up on whatever it was that was making it stick.

When this happened I'd pull over, pop the hood, adjust the throttle linkage or fuss with the brake pedal and everything was okay . . . at least for a couple of miles.

Back in the day there was no such things as recalls.  Everyone understood that when something went wrong it was just the way it was.  So you cussed at your car:  Damn Chevy.  Stinking Ford.  While that made you feel better it didn't change anything about how it operated.  You just learned to take care of it.  No big deal.  No bitching and moaning.  Just do it. 

Back in the day you had to think of those things that could go wrong with the car you owned.  Being prepared was important.   You had to know a little something about auto mechanics.  Not a lot.  Just a little. Today, car owners rarely check their tires, oil level, radiator water and so on.  Get in the car, drive down the road, get on the freeway only to discover you left home with a flat tire.  Thump, thump, thump.  Should have checked the tires before you drove out of the driveway.  Ya think?

So when I hear car owners today pissing and moaning about things going wrong with their cars it's laughable.  People must love to bitch and moan.  Dudes, get over it.  Everything mechanical is bound to fail now and then.  Think we live in a perfect world?  Shut up, fix it yourself and drive on.  Okay?