Stuff Father Time Wants

Disclaimer

Don't worry. Father Time hasn't gone materialistic on you. This is, once again, one more ill-fated attempt at humor, using The Fly as my foil. In all honesty, I recommend you stop here and pursue something meaningful, like taking inventory of your toilet paper supply, or waxing the dog. You'll find it's time well spent.

The List

Here goes:

A wooden hand plane so I look good when I mutilate things in my workshop. Notice the actual picture instead of cheesy "links" that take you to parts of the Internet rarely seen by humans. Now check out The Fly's list.
I rest my case.



A 5 quart stainless steel saucier so I only have to wash one pan when I cook. Right now I use one to saute, another to make the sauce, and another to combine the ingredients, and finally a dish to serve it in. Four vs one? Makes sense to me.

That's It!

See how easy it is? When you have everything, you don't need much.

Now,compare my list with The Fly's list. It drones on endlessly with stuff from the UK, things that you need when you get into combat (with whom?), CD's by groups that have never had musical training, TV reruns, and books by guys that are dead.

Who knows? Maybe I'll invite The Fly to a debate on materialism. It'll be like shooting fish in a barrel.

Nothing New Under The Sun?

Never Say Never
Back in the early 60's, I had a chance to work on some GM prototypes that had monster rear wings and front air dams, not unlike the ones shown here.

Historical perspective - GM was being pushed by the new generation of "safety-ites", who felt the big boats GM was building were unsafe due to "poor handling" (and that's the polite way to say it!)

So the R&D boys sent us some Electra 225 4-door sedans with wings and air damns, similar to these, except, to be perfectly honest, about half the size. We all had a good chuckle since GM's standard guidance to it's engineers was that any innovation had to be "commercially acceptable."

Without a doubt, our prototypes were sorry examples of anything anyone would buy. But we tested them anyway and sent back data showing improved handling at 80+ mph. At that time our little group conceded that none of us would ever see anything like those monstrosities again.

So "Never" Came To Be

When I saw these pictures I realized that the word "never" comes with time limits! Somebody, somewhere will always prove you wrong if you use "never" in a conversation.

And another one bites the dust!

And You Thought The Last Post Was Ugly!

OK, so I'm not Yul Brynner; even Popeye is better looking.

Mother Time is going through chemo right now so a couple of us decided to join the "no-hair" brigade. Good idea at the time. Bad idea in execution.

Hmmmm, speaking of executions - oh never mind!

Even Uglier News!

Father Time's 50th high school reunion in Michigan occurs on September 8, 2007, which begs the following questions:

Do you think enough hair will grow back that the airlines will let me board without running my fingerprints through an FBI database?

Do you think that the flight attendants will draw straws with the loser having to wait on me?

Will my former classmates call 911 when I show up at the reunion?

Will my relatives in Michigan disown me?

Hey! What would life be like without a few challenges?

The correct answer is "Pretty sweet!"

Father Time's Early Warning System

Why is this man NOT on somebody's wanted list?

This is a picture of The Fly.

Why this picture is not posted on some website that specializes in warning people of animal predators, nudist camp rejects, or offspring of famous hit men, is a complete mystery to me.

After viewing this picture on the blog Thus Saith The Fly, I am compelled to warn all my decent and non-dysfunctional friends (both of you) that this is beyond scary. It's scary at a level that even exceeds the spectre of world-wide terrorism.

What are the consequences of viewing this photograph even though your rationale mind tells you something this hideous cannot be real?

Take heed my friends and do not look at this picture for an excessive amount of time. In shock, I allowed my eyes to view it for more than 30 seconds. I am now completely color blind and have fuzzy vision, even without consuming a couple of glasses of Chardonnay or a pint of Guinness!

That's powerful.

Conclusion (Finally)

The world we know has changed. When one sees something like this and realizes it is looking at the future, one can only conclude that suicide is a viable option afterall!

Tribute To A Great Lady 1924 - 2007

Cleo Loreen Griffith - Wife, Mother, Grandmother, Great-grandmother.

She will best remembered for her love of people, especially her immediate family. Her husband Bill, who died in 1980, was the love of her life. However, when Cleo became a grandmother, her need to love found an outlet in her first grandchild. She became a grandmother three more times and spent as much time as she could with all of them. And, since she lived next door to all four, they always knew where to go for cookies, ice cream, or someone to bandage their little cuts and scrapes.

Cleo was warm, caring, and fun-loving. She loved to dance, listen to music, talk with friends for hours, laugh and plan pot-luck dinners. Her reputation for cooking earned her a reputation as the “Queen of Comfort Food.” She also loved to knit, crochet, and do needlepoint. Everyone who was close to her owns one of her famous Afghans. She had an eye for color, and could always be depended upon to produce bright colorful blankets that are considered heirlooms by her family.

However, Cleo was also infamous for her knitted slippers that she always gave her family at Christmas. Now, if they had been used to keep feet warm, that would be considered normal; but, when we all learned they were fantastic for sliding across large expanses of waxed wooden floors, a whole new sport evolved! Once everyone had their slippers on, the running, racing, and sliding would go on until someone crashed into something or broke something or, as was the norm, the slippers wore out!

Cleo was also her grandchildren’s favorite philanthrophy! Every school raffle, candy or cookie sale, or field trip could depend on Cleo’s generosity. When her grandchildren needed to sell anything, they knew Grandma was a complete softy, and would buy anything they had to sell. An addded plus was that it was cookies or cand, most likely they would get them back in a week or two as a present. In short, Cleo was the grandmother from heaven that every kid hopes for.

When two of her grandchildren moved with their family to Albany in 1986, Cleo followed shortly thereafter, declaring, “No stranger is going to baby-sit MY grandchildren!” Every Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, and birthday found Cleo sitting at her daughter's kitchen table, consuming potato chips and clam dip,(and on a rare occasion Bourbon and Seven) and offering advice on how to cook the best turkey gravy the world has ever known.

And finally, Cleo was best known by most of us for her sense of humor. Even in her final days, when she was declining rapidly, she loved to joke and kid with the staff who were her caregivers. Even though she was a mere shadow of her old self, she was still the great lady most of us remembered; a woman who filled so many lives with joy and laughter.

Cleo was one of a kind and will be sorely missed by all of us. Heaven is a better place today, if only for the improvement in its turkey gravy!

Ma' Truck

Cool eh? To haul bark dust, just pile up 10 or 12 bags from Home Depot. No muss, no fuss.

I need one of these NOW!

Contact!

Found The Key, Turned The Ignition, and Started The Engine.

I think my engine is working again after a short period of burn-out. The grieving process takes longer in some of us.

Tomorrow I will go back to semi-regular posting.

Tomorrow I will release some pent-up issues that have been building for the past 30 days.

Expect some goofy cars, verbal assaults on The Fly, and the usual off-the-wall stories of life in the slow lane.

How's that for "pent-up?"