Doug I don't believe it... well friend, you better believe it

Do you know what this is?  It's my last incandescent light bulb, a 60 watt GE Reveal.  Way back in the summer of 2011, the news reported the US was going to stop manufacturing these types of light bulbs effective January 2012.  The next day at work, a couple people were talking about it and my friend Candace said "You better stock up, they'll be gone sooner than you think."

And then one night I got off the bus after work and saw a sign in CVS window, a 'Final Sale' on GE light bulbs.  For years I'd been buying the Reveal bulbs, they were the perfect tone of white/not too bright.  I went in, grabbed a cart and put around 30 4-pk boxes of light bulbs in it.  Every 60 watt Reveal they had in stock.

I almost did a blog about this 15 years ago, but when I saw the top of my linen closet filled with light bulbs, I thought it looked a little crazy.  Still, as everyone flocked to the newer bulbs I rubbed my hands together and went "Heh heh!"  and continued using my old school energy-inefficient bulbs.

Around 4 years ago, I stopped using them in my bedroom to make my inventory last longer for my living room.  And now, I'm down to my final bulb.  So until this one burns out, I will get to hold onto that old timey incandescent glow just a little while longer.

Speaking of the bedroom (and my lamp in there), do you see the denim floor pillow on the right?  I bought that pillow way back around 1990-91, when I lived in my first apartment in the city.  My sister Shawn often drove up for the weekend, and we'd go to Waterworks Mall, do some shopping, see a movie, sometimes have dinner there too.  

There was a Pier 1 Imports we always visited and where I got that pillow--they had some cool stuff.

I don't use the pillow regularly--only when I get a backache.  I'll take a book and sit on the floor and prop myself up against Old Blue.  It's very dense but squishy soft.

Over the years I've wiped it down with a damp washcloth, what else can I do?  It's not like I can throw it in a washer.  And then 2 days ago I was wiping it off and my washcloth snagged on something--a pull tab for a zipper.  I've owned this pillow 35 years and didn't know I could remove the cover.

It was difficult, but I managed to unzip and remove the denim cover and soaked it in some Tide and cold water.  The water turned yellow in a couple minutes.  The pillow insert inside was surprisingly white and the manufacturer tag read Pier1 Imports 1990, 100% goose down.  

Anyway, I guess Ol' Blue is good another 35 years!

I saved the best for last.  This one's a biggie.  Back in 2012, DC Comics announced Paul Levitz had written a GINORMOUS BOOK COVERING THE DIFFERENT AGES OF DC COMICS.

For you non-comic experts out there, older comic books are broken down into 3 ages:

The Golden Age, from 1935-1956

The Silver Age, from 1956-1969

The Bronze Age, from 1970-1984

I began reading DC comics in the late sixties, and stopped collecting them in 1984.  I still read reprints on occasion, no interest in the current stuff.

Anyway, I wanted this book--at the same time, I didn't want it.  Where the heck would I put it?  Fortunately, DC came to their senses and re-issued the book in a smaller format, broken up by the ages.  But they were still LARGE volumes and weigh 10 pounds each.

So look what I bought 15 years ago... love those foil covers.

I paid $59.95 each for them back in 2011-2012, and they've been in my closet all these years.  They've also become collector's items, the Silver Age book with the Flash on it?  It retails for $455.00 now. 

Believe it or not, mine are in mint condition.  They're still in their plastic shrink wrap.  (That wasn't my intention, I just never got around to opening them.)

And finally, here was a nice little surprise.  When I was removing these from their paper sacks for this blog post, I was surprised to see each book had an alternate cover on the reverse.  Nice.  😎

On my way to the Senior Center & the old Sewickley Hotel

Here is yours truly, Wednesday morning at 9:30 am and on my way out the door.  I was catching a bus to the Senior Center (my first time there since last September) for an hour's visit and then to Sewickley, to have lunch with the old crew at an establishment known as The Hotel.

It was so awesome seeing Bridget (one of the ladies who works at the center) and "Pat in the Hat", an 86 year old regular slash volunteer who hugged me and couldn't have been nicer.  As glad as I was to be there however, I was surprised how quiet it was.  I only saw the handful of people that were going on the lunch outing.  

Unfortunately, the friends I am closest to--Melvin, Gerri, Deb, Mary & Evvie--were all no-shows, darn it.  

I was glad when "Paul the Playboy" walked in though, and soon after Dennis too, who couldn't have been funnier or nicer.

Anyway, there's not a lot to tell--we got to the bar/restaurant (more bar than restaurant) and sat at some pretty sticky tables for some burgers and overpriced pickled tacos.  I am not complaining though, I was glad to get out and be with friends again, for the first time in months.

The Sewickley Hotel is no hotel.  It's a lounge, a bar.  (But in a pretty hoity toity neighborhood.)

After they took our orders, Dennis high-tailed it out of there to check out the liquor store nearby.  He returned with a 1.75 liter bottle of Jack Daniels Honey Whiskey.  I guess some things never change!

Here was Pearl's order, a large Navajo frybread with shrimp toppings.  I wanted this too, but there were only a couple left and Pearl bought both (one to take home for her daughter who lives with her).

Here was my order, a trio of Barbacoa (shredded beef) soft-shell tacos with a lot of pickled cabbage.  I can't say I was in love with them, but they were very fresh, and different.  I was really hungry for something different.

When I was on my way to the men's room I came across this wall of Native American chiefs and headdresses.  I was really tempted to try one of those on!

Finally, on the way home, Dennis (who was pretty soused from his double Bloody Mary and Alabama Slammers) was incensed that the bar cut him off.  He slurred "I'm glad we went there Doug, but whoever heard of a bar turning down business from a paying customer?  We won't be coming back!"   Speak for yourself, Dennis!

Yes he drinks his share, but has a heart of gold and I enjoyed spending time with him.  The End!

A moment of mourning for Dana

Dana Faulk

A couple days ago, Dana Faulk, 55 was at a red light when the driver behind him began revving his engine and honking his horn, and yelling out the window.  He didn't think Dana was close enough to the traffic light.

A passenger in Dana's car said Dana was confused and didn't understand why the man behind him was yelling "to drive the %$#@^* up".

Dana ignored him, and when the light turned green proceeded to drive slowly on Corliss Street, a single lane road in each direction.  The driver behind him, Joel Ingram, 41 waited until there was no oncoming vehicles then drove up alongside Dana and shot him in the head, killing Dana instantly.  He then sped off.

Thanks to surveillance cameras at the location and various witnesses, police located Ingram at a gas station an hour later and arrested him.

Joel did not have a license for the gun he was carrying, and several people said he announced his intentions at the traffic light--what he was going to do to Dana once he caught up to him.  A legal expert said those threats could be used by the prosecution to charge him with first degree murder.

Joel Ingram, one less monster on the road

This local news story really struck a nerve with me.  He took Dana's life so casually, and in the process has probably thrown away his own.  Of course most of us have tempers too.  But to do what this man did--shoot and kill an innocent man for some perceived slight--his reasons are truly lost on me.  

This takes me back to 2009, when I was in a similar situation.  I was driving back to Pittsburgh one Sunday evening, after spending the day at my sister Shawn's house.  (Shawn, her husband Jim and my niece Sophia live 65 miles south of me.)

I always got on I-79 North, rode it for an hour to the Emsworth/Sewickley Exit, then another 15 minutes on Route 65 aka Ohio River Boulevard, first to Emsworth then to my neighborhood Avalon.

(Route 65 is jokingly known as a speed trap by locals.  The Avalon police seem to patrol it pretty well, especially on the weekends.)

So this one Sunday I turn off I-79, take the exit and as soon as I pull onto 65 a car pulls up behind me.  He gunned his engine a couple times--I knew he wanted me to speed up but I was sticking to the speed limit.  

Now he was getting angry and was on my tail, right on it.  He also had his high beams on and was honking his horn.  This went on for over a mile and as I had nowhere to turn, could only keep driving.  I was a nervous wreck.

Suddenly, an Avalon police cruiser seemed to come out of nowhere and pulled into the lane ahead of me, while blue lights began flashing behind as well.  We were both getting pulled over.  I was so relieved!

The officers in the car ahead walked back and told me to hang tight.  They conferred with the officers in the back, then one of them approached my open drivers window and said "The couple behind you say they know you, and were only trying to get your attention.  Is that true?"

What!  I could see them in my rear view mirror.  The man was standing outside his car, next to 2 officers.  His passenger (his girlfriend or wife or whatever) was still in the car, staring in my direction with a sort of pleading look and shaking her head.  I told the officers absolutely not, I never saw them before I got off that exit.     

He said they figured that but were still obligated to ask.  When I asked if the driver was going to get ticketed, the officer said he was under arrest for reckless driving.  He took down my personal info, than told me I was free to go.  

Dana's death has me sitting here thinking "What if no police had shown up that night?  What would've happened to me?"   I wish poor Dana had gotten the same rescue I did.  

The kindness of some people, the meekness of others & my own red kryptonite

 A few days ago I was surprised to get this in the mail.  A Get Well card from the folks at the Senior Center, who apparently found out about my recent stay at Mercy Hospital.  It was a really sweet gesture, as I haven't talked to anyone or been back to the center in several months (since my long covid relapse last September).  

It was so nice to see some of these names... they really are a wonderful group, both the seniors and the ladies who manage the center.  Monday I was walking home from Kuhn's, and a white SUV pulled up alongside me on the street, honking it's horn.  I looked thru the passenger window and almost didn't recognize my friend Mary.  She rolled down the window and yelled "Get your butt in this car--now!"  Too funny!  Love her.

(By the way, I've known Mary since April 2023 and she's always had red auburn hair.  After this past Christmas however, the last time I saw her, she decided to stop coloring her hair and is now fully gray.  And it looks really, really nice on her.)

After I got in, she caught me up on things at the center and with herself.  Our mutual friend Evvie, another one I miss very much, hasn't been to the center because of glaucoma and cataract issues.  I pray she gets that resolved soon.  And Mary has moved out of her old place into a condo just a couple blocks from me.  Wow.

A picture of Pat's 85th birthday from last summer, there's my friend Mary in the stripes and my old pal Dennis in the back

I told Mary that I contacted the center last week and asked to be put on the list for the restaurant outing for "Rosa's Cantina" on July 15.  It would be my first outing since last summer.  

I've been getting days here & there of lesser long covid symptoms, which gives me hope, unfortunately these weird relapses won't quit.  I'm in the middle of one right now.

Have you ever heard of red kryptonite?  We all know how green kryptonite can kill Superman.  There's also white kryptonite, blue kryptonite, jewel kryptonite, gold kryptonite.  But the red stuff will cause Supes to tingle all over--after that, anything goes.  It can turn him invisible, shrink him to the size of a housefly, turn him into a giant, a super-baby, you name it.  

That's what long covid does to me.  I never know when or how it will strike.  The night before last I was sitting here sipping a cup of coffee and eating a cookie, and suddenly began smelling long covid.  (Burnt hair, old flowers, mildew.)  A mild prickling sensation began in my face.  A sure sign something bad was coming.  

The next morning, the bottom right of my face was terribly swollen.  It looked like someone had given me a fat lip while I slept.  It will take 2-3 days to go back to normal.

This past weekend while people were celebrating the Fourth of July, I was coming close to getting kicked out of the Tiffany.  We lost our AC on July 3, and with Pittsburgh dealing with a week long heat wave of temps reaching 100F, by that night my apartment was 90F.

Steiner was slow to respond but it turns out only 2 people called and complained about the lack of AC; myself and a woman on the 6th floor.  I knocked on several of my neighbors doors and asked if they were suffering from the heat (oh yes) and did they call in and report the issue (oh no).

One neighbor said he didn't want to cause trouble as his lease was coming up.  Another said she was afraid of putting a target on her back.  Another said she knew someone would report it... eventually.  I told them "You have to speak up.  You don't have to be mean about it, but if only 1 or 2 tenants say anything, they won't treat it as an emergency."

Geez, I feel like I'm living with a flock of sheep here!

My sister Shawn was kind enough to offer to drive up Saturday morning and bring me back to her house for the weekend, and I was sorely tempted, but I felt I had to see this through.  I'd been pretty irate with Steiner over 2 days, telling them we needed a certified AC repairman, we had older people living here, I know it's a holiday but we need this resolved right now, etc.  

I just hope I didn't put any targets on my own back!  And hopefully I won't be seeing these numbers in my apartment again for a long time.

As I approach 65, here's 25 things I'm noticing about myself

As I approach 65...

1. The earlier I'm going to bed at night.  When that 11:00 news comes on, I am ready to hit the hay.   

2. The more I prefer a hot breakfast (like eggs or oatmeal) over cold cereal.

3. The less I like swearing--hearing it or doing it.

4. The less I let other people's politics bother me.  I lost a couple good friendships over Donald Trump a few years back and regret it to this day.  

5. The less I like television sitcoms.

6. The warmer I like to be.  I used to run around (in my apartment) in my bare feet in the dead of winter.  Now I wear socks year round.  

7. The less I want to watch the local or national news.

8. The more I like to soak/doze in a warm, sudsy bubble bath.  

9. The less I like perfume or cologne on people.

10. The shorter I like the hair on my head.

11. The less I can tolerate loud movies or violence in movies.  Isn't there enough noise & violence out there?

12. The less embarrassed I am to talk about or show my body.  I almost asked my barber last week if she wanted to see my gall bladder scar.

13. The less I care about social media or trends.  What's an influencer?  Who cares?

14. The more comfortable I am with people 5-10 years older than me than people 5-10 years younger.

15. The less I know what younger people are listening to these days, music wise.  Taylor Swift... that's all I know.

16. The more I miss funny, beautiful actresses like Madeline Kahn, Teri Garr, Catherine O'Hara, Jill Clayburgh, Mary Tyler Moore.  I can't believe they're all gone. 😔

17. The easier it is for me to use words like "dear", even though I sound like a Mrs. Beasley doll.  "Thank you Kimberly, you're a dear."

18. The more patience I have for people like my special needs neighbor Sally who likes to tell me what she had for dinner the night before, condiments included.  She's a hoot... and a dear.

19. The less patience I have for salesman who knock on my door (like T-Mobile) who "just happened to be in the neighborhood" and want to check my internet speed.  I'm shutting the door now!

20. The less I can remember everything in my past.  I came across this picture in some old papers awhile back and have no memory of how I got it, or who took it.  On the back of the photo it says "Michelle Phillips and Doug Morris, lunch at Warner Center 1993."

I recognize my coworker and myself of course, but who had the camera?

21.  The less I mind living like a hermit.  (In fact, I worry sometimes I like it too much.)  When I was younger, I couldn't imagine spending the weekend alone.  Now I can't imagine otherwise.

22.  The luckier I feel every day I don't have cancer--as far as I know.  Mom & Dad both died from cancer and never made it to 65.

23.  The more attraction I feel towards chubby people.  Well, birds of a feather...😉

24.  The worse my handwriting is becoming.  I guess that old saying "if you don't use it you lose it" is true.  My mom had beautiful handwriting up until the day she died.

25.  The more I like my gray hair.  I wear it like a badge of honor!  

I reckon milestones are like gallstones; they come in all shapes and sizes

A couple days ago I called my barber Roe and asked if she could fit me in.  She said to come on up, and while it took a bit longer to get there (about 35 minutes vs my customary 15 minute walk) I still made it there and back on my own.  That's a half-mile trip each way and the most I've walked in 20 days.

When I got home, there was a letter from the Federal govt in my mailbox.  I thought "Uh-oh, Trump has declared another war and I've been drafted."  Fortunately I was wrong and it was from Medicare.  

I got my Medicare card, which means I've reached the government's benchmark for being classified a senior citizen, effective October 1.  

To be honest, I'm going to miss my ACA health insurance; not only are my premiums $45.00 cheaper a month than Medicare, I think I have better coverage too.  

Now I have to figure out if I want a Medicare Advantage plan.  It looks like I don't really have a choice.  Medigap coverage (keeping traditional Medicare and getting a supplement to cover the 20% Medicare doesn't pay) is outrageously expensive.

Are you on Medicare Advantage?  Do you like your plan?

At least I have insurance.  I've been getting pre-insurance "DO NOT PAY" medical bills for my 2 recent surgeries and 8 day hospital stay and home rehab visits, we are talking tens of thousands of dollars.  The gall bladder surgery alone was $22,700 and my ambulance was $1662.00 before insurance kicked in.  My final bill for that ride is $85.93.  Whew!

On another positive note, I went 4 days in a row with reduced long covid symptoms.  

I was all set to say 5 days, unfortunately my LC reared its ugly head an hour after I got up this morning.  But for the last few days I've been waking up feeling pretty normal.  So the LC may not be gone just yet, but for something that's been ongoing since last September (with zero let up) this break in symptoms seems pretty significant.

I hope I'm not jinxing things by speaking up too soon, but 4 consecutive mornings of relative calm?  I can't help but feel hopeful.  

Still debating whether I should attempt this "nicotine patch" therapy.  I think I'll wait a couple more days and see.

Finally, this isn't important in the slightest but it's still a milestone.  This is my 800th post.    

Back in 2006 when my friend Ross suggested I start a blog (we belonged to an online message forum and I enjoyed sharing stories about coworkers, weekend cooking, etc) I said I'd give it a try but probably wouldn't write more than a dozen posts total.  Who'd want to read about my humdrum life anyway?

Well, to the few out there that do it's been a great motivator.  Thanks everybody.  😏