One of my driver friends had 3 dogs, now she only has 2. Joey is gone. I stopped by her house yesterday to say hi, it'd been a while. We, she and I and our 3 dogs, went out to Governor's Island for a walk around it. She's a night driver, and she needed to get ready for work so it had to be a fairly quick walk.
The 3 dogs were Betty Lou and Angelo, her dogs. And Gromit, my dog. Like all dogs, they love the island. It's a great place to walk, be a dog, watch birds..... It's a great place.
Joe was an English Spaniel, I think.... English retriever..... He was a tan dog, weighed around 30 pounds, and had floppy ears. He was a real nice pup. They don't come to the dog park much any more, and I don't either, but that's where I met Joe and Betty Lou. A matched pair of hunting dogs. Bet they've never been hunting, but most dogs never have been, that's not special.
Joe loved to chase butterfly's. It was really cute to watch too. Very much like watching a small child chase them. He was a really really good pup. We will all fondly remember him, I will anyway.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
The old German woman
I saw a reference to her, and to the famous Don. So, I'll tell you about her.
The famous Don, another time.
She and some other real old German folks got into the cab for an airport ride. I don't recall if it was to or from the airport, but there were 3 or 4 people in the party, and it went from this really old farm house out at the corner of Cottage Grove and Atwood.
There were huge trees, and the whole place was generally speaking, over grown. I'd seen her before, and I'd probably seen her companions too. I'm guessing they were 75 - 85 years old. It was an 1800's farm that had probably been a working farm until the 60's or 70's. I didn't think much of it, but I did remember her for some reason.
Then about 6 or 7 years ago, I had her again, and she went to an old folks home. I learned a little bit about her. He fled Germany when she was 8th or 9th grade. Her kids wanted to develop the farmstead so they took her out of her house, told her she couldn't live there, and were waiting for her to sign off on developing it or die, which ever came first.
I asked her if she liked her old folks home. She shrugged. I went and asked a friend about taking care of this woman. It would have worked out for my friend, the old woman, me, everybody except her kids. She told me if I cut my hair she'd discuss it, other wise not. I looked at her and said to myself, she's crazy.
She probably had no intention of discussing it. Just an elderly ass hole doing her little part for making the world like she wanted it, no long hair. Woo hoo. What a moron. But perhaps not, she might have simply loved that assisted living place, it wasn't cheap.
Mean while, her kids developed the place. 7 or 8 years later they still have condo's for sale, want to buy one? No? Gee, why not? Doesn't money grow on trees? Nah, the trees are gone, the first thing they did was knock them down. Just another brick in the wall.
The famous Don, another time.
She and some other real old German folks got into the cab for an airport ride. I don't recall if it was to or from the airport, but there were 3 or 4 people in the party, and it went from this really old farm house out at the corner of Cottage Grove and Atwood.
There were huge trees, and the whole place was generally speaking, over grown. I'd seen her before, and I'd probably seen her companions too. I'm guessing they were 75 - 85 years old. It was an 1800's farm that had probably been a working farm until the 60's or 70's. I didn't think much of it, but I did remember her for some reason.
Then about 6 or 7 years ago, I had her again, and she went to an old folks home. I learned a little bit about her. He fled Germany when she was 8th or 9th grade. Her kids wanted to develop the farmstead so they took her out of her house, told her she couldn't live there, and were waiting for her to sign off on developing it or die, which ever came first.
I asked her if she liked her old folks home. She shrugged. I went and asked a friend about taking care of this woman. It would have worked out for my friend, the old woman, me, everybody except her kids. She told me if I cut my hair she'd discuss it, other wise not. I looked at her and said to myself, she's crazy.
She probably had no intention of discussing it. Just an elderly ass hole doing her little part for making the world like she wanted it, no long hair. Woo hoo. What a moron. But perhaps not, she might have simply loved that assisted living place, it wasn't cheap.
Mean while, her kids developed the place. 7 or 8 years later they still have condo's for sale, want to buy one? No? Gee, why not? Doesn't money grow on trees? Nah, the trees are gone, the first thing they did was knock them down. Just another brick in the wall.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
you must check these blogs out
http://abitchcalledmom.blogspot.com/
http://megalisfamily.blogspot.com/
http://seecevolve.blogspot.com/
The 3rd one reminds me of these 3 girls I drove past once at the corner of State and Lake. They were on the sidewalk on the Library Mall side of Lake, and they were doubled over with their drawers pulled down. Mooning State street. Must have been graduating.
All are cute. The photo at the top of the 3rd one is a classic.
http://megalisfamily.blogspot.com/
http://seecevolve.blogspot.com/
The 3rd one reminds me of these 3 girls I drove past once at the corner of State and Lake. They were on the sidewalk on the Library Mall side of Lake, and they were doubled over with their drawers pulled down. Mooning State street. Must have been graduating.
All are cute. The photo at the top of the 3rd one is a classic.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The journy is the destination
How did I get here anyway?
When I was young, I took a number of trips, where the trip was more important than the destination. The road trip through Key West to New Orleans. The walk about from central Michigan around Lake Superior to Winnipeg, through Fargo and the cities, to here and back to East Lansing...............................
When I was young, I took a number of trips, where the trip was more important than the destination. The road trip through Key West to New Orleans. The walk about from central Michigan around Lake Superior to Winnipeg, through Fargo and the cities, to here and back to East Lansing...............................
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Yesterday was a great day
I saw a few of the old crowd. It was great. Almost like going back 25 years in time. Kev, Eric, Amy, Andrea, Bob, Doug, Jeff............................. I need to get out more.
After all these years, I now know how to tell Doug and Bob apart. Doug is the guy on the left. There are other small differences, I'll get to know them on sight now that I've made a start on it.
The last twins I knew were Mark and Steve. I was told they looked nothing alike, and after I got to know them well, I agreed. Before I knew them well, how did I tell them apart? Steve has one eye which is half green, half brown. Steve is the lawyer, Mark is the doctor. Great friends, I wish I still saw them too.
Pinhead...... I saw him too. He reminded me that I used to tell people that Pinhead, Pinup, and Diaper Pin, used to live in the Pin Cushion. I should give credit where due, Wild Bill (Amy's ex) was the person who named Pin Head's place, The Pin Cushion. Mrs. Pinhead, who I used to refer to as Pinup, had/has a name, since I'd rather not get sued, I'll pass on sharing it, I do remember her name, it has 5 letters. And, I don't think anybody ever referred to Pin's kid as Diaper Pin except me, and only when I was clowning for the tourists. I guess the young man is in high school these days.
Pinhead, as he was yesterday, is by far, the best Pin I've ever encountered. Unlike some people, he has aged really well, and I'd say he's a screaming success at life. I owe the guy a drink. I told him I'd buy him one, but he wasn't ready for one yet, and we went in opposite directions. I'll hunt him up and pay off next week.
After all these years, I now know how to tell Doug and Bob apart. Doug is the guy on the left. There are other small differences, I'll get to know them on sight now that I've made a start on it.
The last twins I knew were Mark and Steve. I was told they looked nothing alike, and after I got to know them well, I agreed. Before I knew them well, how did I tell them apart? Steve has one eye which is half green, half brown. Steve is the lawyer, Mark is the doctor. Great friends, I wish I still saw them too.
Pinhead...... I saw him too. He reminded me that I used to tell people that Pinhead, Pinup, and Diaper Pin, used to live in the Pin Cushion. I should give credit where due, Wild Bill (Amy's ex) was the person who named Pin Head's place, The Pin Cushion. Mrs. Pinhead, who I used to refer to as Pinup, had/has a name, since I'd rather not get sued, I'll pass on sharing it, I do remember her name, it has 5 letters. And, I don't think anybody ever referred to Pin's kid as Diaper Pin except me, and only when I was clowning for the tourists. I guess the young man is in high school these days.
Pinhead, as he was yesterday, is by far, the best Pin I've ever encountered. Unlike some people, he has aged really well, and I'd say he's a screaming success at life. I owe the guy a drink. I told him I'd buy him one, but he wasn't ready for one yet, and we went in opposite directions. I'll hunt him up and pay off next week.
Friday, February 25, 2011
I collected my money
Yesterday, I went over to the office and collected my money. All of it. The deposit, $100, was down for 22 1/2 years. The rest of it, a few hundred, was in what they called 'my account'.
Roy didn't think I was very nice. I wasn't. His notion of closure is we both stand there and smile, and think to ourselves, the other guy is a disgusting two faced bastard. This is supposed to be done while being a disgusting two faced bastard. I had no reason to play that bull shit game. He asked how I'd been, and I asked why he'd want to know.
I ran into Bull Frog in the drivers room. Now there's a disgusting man. He hasn't changed much in twenty years. The image of the Bull Frog that will stick in my mind forever is him in the dispatch office telling me and Jim Bob, he's going to call the cops on us if we don't sell him a top we have in a zip lock bag lying on the desk.
It was a beautiful top, picked up at it's day of perfection, in mid summer. It was probably 8" long. It had the good looks to make it onto the cover of High Times. Only, it was like smoking toilet paper. It burned, made you cough, and had none of the desired effect what so ever. It had been impossible to resist picking a top and bringing it to the office. In my entire life, I've never seen a bud or top that's in the same league, looks wise.
Where we got it, was over in Middleton by a pond, where small construction companies had been dumping 'trash' and fill illegally. Let's say you're a sidewalk contractor, you need to remove the old sidewalk, a little dirt, and take it someplace and get rid of it. You tell your guy, take it so and so a place. He does, runs up the box on the dump truck, and it's gone. Cool, you didn't have to pay to get rid of it.
Jim Bob was building a retaining wall, and the same thing was going on. He needed materials, broken pieces of sidewalk (larger than 24"x24"), to make his retaining wall out of. Viola!!!!! Look at all that wonderful broken concrete, just begging to be taken away. It was going to leave the same way it came.
So Jim and I are wrestling large concrete pieces into the back of his pickup, and I keep smelling this strange smell. What is that smell? I know I've smelled it before. What is that smell. Finally I looked up and saw 5 and 7 lobed leaves, saw toothed leaves, bright green leaves. Wow!! Hey, JB, know what this stuff is?!?!?!? We took our concrete, got rid of it, and came back in my car. JB jumped out, ran over and grabbed that top, and ran back to the car, and we took off quick. When we'd driven around in circles for 15 minutes, we figured we were safe.
That was when we broke out a cigarette paper and rolled up a doobie. JB took the first hit. I thought he was going to cough himself to death. He told me to use care. I tried it. It was GOD AWFUL. Another 15 minutes later, it was brutally obvious that it was the worst either of us had ever seen.
Does Bull Frog still indulge? He's supposed to get drug tested, but with so many things, the fix might be in. I wrote the computer program they used for years to pick random groups of drivers to test. It's flawed in a way that would let them cheat and protect particular individuals. They claim they don't do that, and they don't use it any more.
Gee, that's what the Bull Frog claims. He doesn't do that, and doesn't use it any more. What a coincidence.
Roy didn't think I was very nice. I wasn't. His notion of closure is we both stand there and smile, and think to ourselves, the other guy is a disgusting two faced bastard. This is supposed to be done while being a disgusting two faced bastard. I had no reason to play that bull shit game. He asked how I'd been, and I asked why he'd want to know.
I ran into Bull Frog in the drivers room. Now there's a disgusting man. He hasn't changed much in twenty years. The image of the Bull Frog that will stick in my mind forever is him in the dispatch office telling me and Jim Bob, he's going to call the cops on us if we don't sell him a top we have in a zip lock bag lying on the desk.
It was a beautiful top, picked up at it's day of perfection, in mid summer. It was probably 8" long. It had the good looks to make it onto the cover of High Times. Only, it was like smoking toilet paper. It burned, made you cough, and had none of the desired effect what so ever. It had been impossible to resist picking a top and bringing it to the office. In my entire life, I've never seen a bud or top that's in the same league, looks wise.
Where we got it, was over in Middleton by a pond, where small construction companies had been dumping 'trash' and fill illegally. Let's say you're a sidewalk contractor, you need to remove the old sidewalk, a little dirt, and take it someplace and get rid of it. You tell your guy, take it so and so a place. He does, runs up the box on the dump truck, and it's gone. Cool, you didn't have to pay to get rid of it.
Jim Bob was building a retaining wall, and the same thing was going on. He needed materials, broken pieces of sidewalk (larger than 24"x24"), to make his retaining wall out of. Viola!!!!! Look at all that wonderful broken concrete, just begging to be taken away. It was going to leave the same way it came.
So Jim and I are wrestling large concrete pieces into the back of his pickup, and I keep smelling this strange smell. What is that smell? I know I've smelled it before. What is that smell. Finally I looked up and saw 5 and 7 lobed leaves, saw toothed leaves, bright green leaves. Wow!! Hey, JB, know what this stuff is?!?!?!? We took our concrete, got rid of it, and came back in my car. JB jumped out, ran over and grabbed that top, and ran back to the car, and we took off quick. When we'd driven around in circles for 15 minutes, we figured we were safe.
That was when we broke out a cigarette paper and rolled up a doobie. JB took the first hit. I thought he was going to cough himself to death. He told me to use care. I tried it. It was GOD AWFUL. Another 15 minutes later, it was brutally obvious that it was the worst either of us had ever seen.
Does Bull Frog still indulge? He's supposed to get drug tested, but with so many things, the fix might be in. I wrote the computer program they used for years to pick random groups of drivers to test. It's flawed in a way that would let them cheat and protect particular individuals. They claim they don't do that, and they don't use it any more.
Gee, that's what the Bull Frog claims. He doesn't do that, and doesn't use it any more. What a coincidence.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
The end of Xanadu
Xanadu? Yeah, I lived there. Many, sort of wild memories. I loved the place, but I had to leave Ann Arbor, so I had to leave Xanadu too. Many great characters too. And the little intrigues in the house, like the John Adam's Memorial Closet, and the Death Patrol...... Sigh.....
What ever happened to the place? It was sold back into the Greek system. Last time I was home and checked, it was a frat or sorority, I didn't look close enough to determine which. What ever happened to the place? I killed it.
Say what? Luther would tell you the guy at the Detroit paper killed it. It happened at that last house meeting he (the writer) attended. Well, it is true, Luther came up to me after that house meeting and asked me to do something, and I asked him what I was supposed to do. Luther had watched me take the podium and tell the other members that they were doing something they'd really regret, and it is true that Janet Marquart, who was from here, called in March and said, "You were right, everything you said would happen, happened." Sigh..... Being right and three bucks will get you a plain coffee downtown.
What did I really do that was so bad? Why was it me, not the guy from the Detroit paper? I'll tell you: One day in the dining room, Scott Strahl was standing around with some other people, and I complained bitterly to him that Luther was an absolute idiot. Luther was an absolute idiot BECAUSE, if somebody moved out owing the house money, Luther would simply let them go. There would be no significant effort made to collect the money. So, why should anybody pay their rent the last semester they were there? They shouldn't of course! Only a fool would pay money if there was no consequence for not paying.
I knew immediately that I'd screwed up. How many people heard me quoted, and tried it out. And after it was seen to be true, it must have gotten really bad. At first a few people would stiff the house for a few hundred, and the percentage would increase every semester. Bad jig jig, as they'd say here on Fraternity Row.
I made that unfortunate (but true) comment about 3 weeks before I was to leave Ann Arbor forever. I wouldn't be around to apply peer pressure to dead beats. I wouldn't be around to que the office in on special problems so we could cut the loss's. But you always thought I was a bad influence anyway, didn't you Luther?
The only choice the organization would have would be to sell the place back to the Greeks, which is exactly what they did.
God, did I do a stupid thing. Luther do you hear me. And you did just as stupid a thing buddy. Didn't you understand that sooner or later somebody would see it and exploit it. It was just your own laziness, you didn't feel like going and doing the running around required to win the case and judgment you couldn't collect. You could run your own rental property that way, but not an organization with over 600 members.
At the time, Luther was the head salaried administrator of the organization, and he had an office down in the student union. He's long since retired. The Admiral used to do the wiring in his rental properties, so I knew more about him that most of did. Cryptic? You betcha, Xanadu and Bag End are worth an entire other blog, AND do I want to get sued for remembering the truth? No, I'll pass.
PS. Thanks John Jerko for being an honest guy.
PPS. The people, couple, I was complaining about was Tim and Erica. Erica was this little airhead who was, a sophomore or junior. Tim was ten years older than her. Once they started living in the same room, both of them stopped paying. They lived off the money her mom sent every month for her rent and expenses. Tim was supposedly in the comic book publishing business, but he was living off her and doing nothing. I watched them get farther and farther behind. Tim tried to tell me he'd had a heart attack, so he couldn't pay me the money he owed me. I told him that what he owed the house was the house's business, but money owed to me was my business, and he was expected to pay. I was very diplomatic, and he was very....... I don't know... I never mentioned a consequence, but I'm sure he imagined one. He was a pretty wimpy guy. He paid me a week later, I thanked him, and told him to never knock on my door again. An image I will never erase from my memory was Erica looking lovingly at a new blouse in the store dust wrapper, as she cruised through the front door with it. The rest of us paid for that blouse.
What ever happened to the place? It was sold back into the Greek system. Last time I was home and checked, it was a frat or sorority, I didn't look close enough to determine which. What ever happened to the place? I killed it.
Say what? Luther would tell you the guy at the Detroit paper killed it. It happened at that last house meeting he (the writer) attended. Well, it is true, Luther came up to me after that house meeting and asked me to do something, and I asked him what I was supposed to do. Luther had watched me take the podium and tell the other members that they were doing something they'd really regret, and it is true that Janet Marquart, who was from here, called in March and said, "You were right, everything you said would happen, happened." Sigh..... Being right and three bucks will get you a plain coffee downtown.
What did I really do that was so bad? Why was it me, not the guy from the Detroit paper? I'll tell you: One day in the dining room, Scott Strahl was standing around with some other people, and I complained bitterly to him that Luther was an absolute idiot. Luther was an absolute idiot BECAUSE, if somebody moved out owing the house money, Luther would simply let them go. There would be no significant effort made to collect the money. So, why should anybody pay their rent the last semester they were there? They shouldn't of course! Only a fool would pay money if there was no consequence for not paying.
I knew immediately that I'd screwed up. How many people heard me quoted, and tried it out. And after it was seen to be true, it must have gotten really bad. At first a few people would stiff the house for a few hundred, and the percentage would increase every semester. Bad jig jig, as they'd say here on Fraternity Row.
I made that unfortunate (but true) comment about 3 weeks before I was to leave Ann Arbor forever. I wouldn't be around to apply peer pressure to dead beats. I wouldn't be around to que the office in on special problems so we could cut the loss's. But you always thought I was a bad influence anyway, didn't you Luther?
The only choice the organization would have would be to sell the place back to the Greeks, which is exactly what they did.
God, did I do a stupid thing. Luther do you hear me. And you did just as stupid a thing buddy. Didn't you understand that sooner or later somebody would see it and exploit it. It was just your own laziness, you didn't feel like going and doing the running around required to win the case and judgment you couldn't collect. You could run your own rental property that way, but not an organization with over 600 members.
At the time, Luther was the head salaried administrator of the organization, and he had an office down in the student union. He's long since retired. The Admiral used to do the wiring in his rental properties, so I knew more about him that most of did. Cryptic? You betcha, Xanadu and Bag End are worth an entire other blog, AND do I want to get sued for remembering the truth? No, I'll pass.
PS. Thanks John Jerko for being an honest guy.
PPS. The people, couple, I was complaining about was Tim and Erica. Erica was this little airhead who was, a sophomore or junior. Tim was ten years older than her. Once they started living in the same room, both of them stopped paying. They lived off the money her mom sent every month for her rent and expenses. Tim was supposedly in the comic book publishing business, but he was living off her and doing nothing. I watched them get farther and farther behind. Tim tried to tell me he'd had a heart attack, so he couldn't pay me the money he owed me. I told him that what he owed the house was the house's business, but money owed to me was my business, and he was expected to pay. I was very diplomatic, and he was very....... I don't know... I never mentioned a consequence, but I'm sure he imagined one. He was a pretty wimpy guy. He paid me a week later, I thanked him, and told him to never knock on my door again. An image I will never erase from my memory was Erica looking lovingly at a new blouse in the store dust wrapper, as she cruised through the front door with it. The rest of us paid for that blouse.
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