Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and this beholder likes green skinned women

Well... what do you think?  Maybe you shouldn't answer that.  I'm referring to the new artwork above my bed.  All I know is, I love it.  For the past couple years I've been looking for something to hang there.  

I didn't know what I wanted, I just knew:

1. Nothing too colorful or busy--my bedroom is my zen zone.
2. I wanted something modern, minimalist.
3. It had to be lightweight so I wouldn't worry about it falling down on my head!

I saw this piece above, Nude Woman in Green on an e-canvas site and liked it immediately.  I've got a wooden cross and a couple other artworks on the walls, a sepia Starship Enterprise across from my bed and an "Incan-style" mini-print beside my bookcase, so I'd say my bedroom is pretty much done for wall decor.

Maybe it's time I started shopping for a new bed.  Just kidding!  I love my hippie bed.

The primitive art beside my bookcase and the sepia-toned Enterprise opposite my bed

I thought I'd share this too-- A year or so ago, I bought a map of Pittsburgh for the wall beside my television.  I loved it but it was small, only 18" x 24". 

So last week when I got a 50% off coupon from the same map site on Etsy, I looked for a similar but larger map.  I found it and the perfect 24" x 32" natural frame.  I love it.

I did try hanging a more traditional piece of art there, a row of different colored mountains in assorted colors.  But it was too busy right next to my tv.  And at night it just looked very dark.

I like the whiteness & simplicity of this minimalist map for this space.  I'll hang more colorful stuff elsewhere.

I plan to buy 2 more art pieces, the first is for the accent wall in my dining room.  

I want something oversized, a stretched canvas with an Asian influence.  I have it narrowed down to a few I really like.

The second piece I want is a small wooden, fabric or metal wall hanging to place alongside this wonderful Veloy Vigil.  

I paid a small fortune for this print in the 1990s, and another small fortune to have it professionally framed with museum glass.  I should post a better photo, it's gorgeous.  It's been in storage since I retired and moved a few years back.  It's not a big piece, but it's heavy and will need a wall anchor.  I'd like to see it hanging up above my couch, but it needs something up there with it. 

Well, I think I'll go take a look at my green woman again.  I can't seem to get enough of her.

C'mon, this is what $52.76 is supposed to look like?

This shouldn't have surprised me, but it did.  I was at the market, adding these up in my head as I went along.  I estimated the total was going to be around $38.00.

Wrong.  When the cashier rang me up, she said my total was $52.76.   How is this even possible?   

At least a couple of these items I rarely buy.  The large-size raspberry jam was $6.50, the aluminum foil was nearly $7.00.  Those 2 items will last me 3 months, easy.  

I still don't see how the items in this photo came to over $50 though.  (The title says $52.76 but one of the items isn't in the picture, a box of Rice-A-Roni.  I set it by the stove for my dinner.)  

Anyway, I'm only responsible for the care and feeding of one.  I honestly don't know how families out there are even doing it.  At least the Rice-a-Roni was only $1.59, but frankly I think that was overpriced too.  

I don't want to sound like one of those old men yelling about bread once costing 10 cents, but I remember when this box of rice was 29 cents.

Picture of the Day: My niece Sophia, all grown up and going places

Sophia and her years of study at Slippery Rock University

It's been awhile since I blogged about my niece Sophia--3 years to be exact, when I wrote about attending her high school graduation in May 2023 (click here to see) and how impressed I was with her speech.  She was in the top 2 of her class.

Since then, Soph's went on to Slippery Rock University and somehow while working afterschool jobs and meeting stringent scholarship requirements, managed to stay on the Dean's List -and- the fast track, completing her undergrad studies a year early.  She'll receive her bachelors degree when she dons her cap & gown next spring.

But this August, she begins graduate school where she'll get her Doctorate in Occupational Therapy in 3 years.  (You can't touch that, AI!)  I'm so proud of this young lady I could bust.

As of this writing, she (along with 20 of her classmates) are en route to Italy to tour the Coliseum and the Vatican in Rome-- they're flying there as I type this.  Talk about going places!

Ti voglio bene, Sophia! 

Doug the Handyman at your service

The other day, my blogger friend Margaret posted a picture of her guy John installing a new thermostat in her refrigerator and it inspired me to be a handyman too.

For the last couple years I've been wanting to replace my toilet seat.  You can't tell from the photo above, the lid is closed--but the seat is a real mess.  

DO NOT USE CLOROX BLEACH WIPES ON PAINTED WOODEN TOILET SEATS.

Over the past 3-4 years, the bleach from those wipes ate into the white enamel, causing streaks and splotches.  It gave the appearance of being an unclean seat.  

I walked up the street to my local hardware store (and was woozy and soaked when I arrived, I think I'm still recovering from that flu last week) and was surprised at the number of toilet seats they had.  Plastic, wood, soft close, padded, round, elongated.  Those padded seats looked nice, but I worked in Home Improvements in the 1980s, and padded toilet seats never seemed to last long.  

Also, I need the ability to stand on the lid if need be, to hang Damp-Rid bags in my bathroom ceiling in the summer.  Seats ranged from $14.95 to $32.95, mine cost $25.00.   I thought they'd be more.

Ta-da!  To be honest, I had a heck of a time removing the bolts from the old one, you definitely need a wrench for both the removal and installation.  But this new seat fits like a charm and now I won't have to go into a frenzied explanation if a houseguest asks to use my powder room.   

My work for the day is done, think I'll go make a late breakfast.  🛠

Picture of the Day: Gotta love (and fear, a little) all this new technology

This is my new Asus laptop on the left, it replaced my 2011 Toshiba which died a little over a week ago.  I went from a Windows7 operating system to Windows 11, and it's been a giant leap.  But this Asus is super-fast with helpful tools, and I am learning new things every day.

The computer on the right is a budget laptop, a silver Lenovo with a mind of it's own.  More on that in a second.  

A few days ago I awoke to pouring down rain, and the local weather said it'd be an all day thing.  The last time we had inclement weather, I cleaned out my linen & front room closets.  Today I'd tackle the big dawg--my wall length bedroom closet.

In the far back was a long skinny box and when I pulled it out, saw LENOVO across the front.  When I opened it on my bed, a silver laptop was inside.  My memory of purchasing it was vague, but when I went on Amazon and looked at my Order History... I remember now.  It was bought during their Black Friday 2022 sale for a hundred off the regular price, only $224.00.

I remember registering my MSN account on it, then packing it away.  At the time my Toshiba was still hanging on, and I wasn't ready to learn a new operating system.  This would be my "In Case of Emergency" machine.  I honestly forgot all about it.

So it's been hidden away almost 3 years.  Does it still work?  I plugged it in and turned it on.  The Lenovo awoke from it's deep slumber and asked if edougmorris was still the owner.  Yes.  It asked if wireless network TEEPEE2 was mine.  Yep again.  It asked me to provide pins for both.  

It said "This computer has detected 163 Windows and other software updates.  Proceed with all updates?"  I said yes, why not.  It said to leave it on and plugged in.  So I did, and went back to my closet cleanout.  

A couple hours later, lunch.  The Lenovo was still sitting on my bed, doing God knows what.

I came into the living room, watched Perfect Murder on HBO Max, got on my Asus, checked my emails.  Around 3:00 I went back into my bedroom.

The Lenovo screen now displayed "Updates are complete and computer is ready for use."   The wallpaper is different, but it's somehow a clone of my Asus now.  The same folders, documents, desktop icons.  The internet browser has my favorite websites, everything.

Even Microsoft Office I bought for my Asus is on here too, working.  (I discovered MS Office automatically detects and copies itself on up to 5 of your MSN devices.)

The screen resolution on the Lenovo is low compared to the hi-def Asus, it has less memory and a smaller processor too.  The keys aren't backlit, but they don't need to be--they're a bit larger and easier to see.  Here's the real shocker, the Lenovo screen is a touch screen.  Wait, is my $600 Asus a touch screen?  Nope.  

I'll be dam--darned, I'm liking the budget Lenovo as much as the Asus, and I paid 3 times as much for that Asus!  

Well, at least now I really DO have an "In case of Emergency" machine.  

Picture of the Day: Loving those drugs from the Sixties

The other day I was coming down Lincoln Avenue in Bellevue and was surprised to see this storefront sign, hidden since the 1960s.  Construction crews were tearing down the front of Rite-Aid Pharmacy, which declared bankruptcy and shut their doors in my neighborhood in December 2023. 

(For the record, I sort of blame them for my long covid; I stopped there to pick up my blood pressure meds after Thanksgiving in Nov 2023.  They asked me to come back on Monday.  When I said “Will you guys still be around?” they assured me they would. 

When I returned, they were closed and had sent my prescription to Giant Eagle.  My friend Susie gave me a ride to Giant Eagle; she had covid but didn’t know it, voila.)

Anyway, Rite-Aid had been my drugstore for 30 years.  But when I moved to Bellevue in 1993, it was Eckerd Drugs, which were bought by Rite-Aid in 1996.

But before it was Eckerd Drugs… it was THRIFT DRUGS.  A Pittsburgh company, they opened in 1935.  And that’s what this was until 1968 when it was bought by JCPenney, who sold it to Eckerd.

Anyway, the construction crew had halted their work on the storefront (which is being converted into office space) but no one seemed to know why.  I thought I’d get a couple pics before they tore it down further. 

I don’t know why I find this so curious, I can’t help but wonder—how long has it been since anyone last saw this vintage sign?  A lady on the street said “I haven’t shopped at Thrift since I don’t know when!  But it wasn’t Thrift Drugs, it was Thrift Drug!” 

My dear woman, that sign is evidence to the contrary.  Anyway, I’d love to go back in time and take a gander at the items for sale inside.  Remember Breck Shampoo?  Prell in a tube?  Dippity-Do?  Hi-Karate Men’s Aftershave?  I wonder if it had a soda fountain?

Well, the good news is my bus drove past a couple days ago and they still haven’t torn it down.  It sure would be fun to see Thrift Drugs make a comeback!

Happy Birthday Mom, Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad

Dad & Mom were married on this date, August 7, 1958.  It was also my mom’s 18th birthday, and 2 weeks after Dad’s 21st birthday.

Even though Mom was legally an adult, her mother refused to give her blessing until Mom signed a note promising she’d wait a decent amount of time (I think a year) before having her first child. 

Grandma B didn’t want anyone wrongly thinking these two got married young because they HAD to. 

By the age of 30, Mom had 5 kids (with a sixth one coming 5 years later).  I’ve written about them here so much before, anything I say now would just be repeating myself. 

But I’ve never shared these two photos; the top one is pretty faded and the bottom one (Mom’s 30th birthday)…. I look like a damn maniac.  Sorry everyone. 

Happy Birthday Mom, I love & miss you

 

SWM, 64 ISO funny, sweet, patient, huggable, slightly mental companion & partner in crime

I’m trying to decide if SWM stands for single white male, sexy white male, senior white male or serious white male.  Don’t I look serious here? 

This sounds a little strange, but here goes.  I was heading up the street earlier, and wanted to wear my lighter green henley.  But I’m color blind and couldn’t tell the difference between this shirt and the dusty purple and dark gray henleys I also own, so I took this selfie. 

I see colors in photos better than in person.  Been that way my entire life.

Anyway, as long as I was posing for the camera… I saw a story on the news this weekend that said online dating was making a comeback, particularly among seniors.  Maybe it’s time I threw my shirt in the ring.  This is my practice selfie.

“Doug, you mean your hat.  You throw your hat in the ring.”   I don’t own any hats!

For the record I like to think I’m chubby in a sexy way and neurotic in a charming way.  I’m an expert at flipping hamburgers, roasting broccoli and making tuna fish salad.  I don’t smoke or drink or use drugs (okay, I did have one wine slushi at the winery) and I may not be religious but I don’t swear either.  Well, I don’t use the Lord’s name in vain. 

I keep a pretty clean house.  I even special-order Spic n’ Span powder in the box!  (If you don’t remember Spic n’ Span in a box, you’re probably too young for this fella.)  That stuff is da bomb!  I know, no one says da bomb anymore.

Anyway, take all that—throw in a few stocks & bonds and in four months I begin collecting social security.  What’s not to love?

 

And here’s to you, Mrs. Souders gee I like you more than you will know… Woah woah woah

Sunday morning before heading off to church, my friend Diana sent me this photo of someone from our past—Alice Souders, our sophomore English teacher, recently moved into a nursing home and celebrated her 99th birthday.  God bless her.

I sat here and thought “I can name every English teacher from 7th to 12th grade without pause—Miss Devito in 7, Miss King in 8, Miss Doody in 9, Mrs. Souders in 10, Mrs. Fox in 11, Ms. Skirchak in 12th grade.” 

I could recall something memorable from each of those teachers too, and I liked every one.  Except Mrs. Souders.  In fact I disliked her a lot, until many years later.

From the 1956 Jeffersonian yearbook—her first year teaching at our high schoolShe looked very much like Margaret Hamilton to me (you know, the Wicked Witch of the West in Wizard of Oz) and seemed to have disdain for many of her students, especially the male ones.  At least it felt that way to me.  She had us read Shakespeare’s works—Hamlet, MacBeth, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and I wouldn’t appreciate those assignments until many years later.

In February 2017, I’d been living back in my hometown for 5 months (and was ready to move back to Pittsburgh).  I was in the local Giant Eagle in the bread aisle, and a woman tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I would get her a can of bread crumbs from the top shelf.  I recognized her instantly.  It was Mrs. Souders, the first time I’d seen her in 40 years.

Mrs. Souders in 1977, my sophomore year in high school

I said “Of course, Mrs. Souders” and got her the breadcrumbs.  She said “You know my name, are you a former student of mine?” 

I said I sure was, her 1976-77 year.  She said “You look very familiar, is your name Donald?”  I said no but she was close, my older brother’s name was Donovan and she taught him too.  I was Douglas, the second Morris brother.

She asked me what I’d been up to since high school, I told her I’d dropped out of college in 1982, then moved to Pittsburgh in 1986 to return to school and remained there.  I had just retired from a career in Information Technology.

She seemed genuinely interested, and jokingly asked if her class had helped any in my career path, and the next thing I knew we were laughing and having a warm, friendly conversation.  I said I remembered having to write a paper on Macbeth, and she gave me a C because what I turned in was boring and better suited for an encyclopedia.  She said “No!” and we both laughed so hard at that. 

I really did remember that, I worked hard on that paper and that lousy grade bothered me for a long time.

I told her that she gave us the option of writing a paper about Hamlet or memorizing his monologue “To be or not to be”, so I did the latter and could still recite most of it to this day.  She said “Can you recite it for me now?” and I don’t know how but I did—the first 6 lines anyway.  She said “Did I give you an A?”  I said I didn’t think so, I messed up a couple places the first time and we laughed again.

But I also told her when we were given Midsummer Night’s Dream to read and write a report on, I disliked it so much I wrote I had nothing good to say about it and was writing about a book I’d recently read instead.  I expected a failing mark, but at the top she wrote “This was not your assignment!  But you expressed how you felt like a man and I respect that.”  She gave me an A.  It’s the honest-to-God truth, and really stuck with me for a long time.  I can’t say the same about any other English teacher.

She said “Your memories honor me, sir.”  We hugged and said goodbye.  I can’t believe that was 8 years ago, it seems more recent than that.

So… a belated Happy Birthday, Mrs. Souders.  You weren’t my favorite then, but some things like wine & cheese (and teachers) definitely improve with age.  Right, Puck?

 

The dog days of summer, moms, sisters, just doing some thinking out loud

This photo is from early May, 1970.  That’s my younger brother Steve in the red & white stripes (holding a paddleball), my older brother Duke in the glasses and yellow & navy shirt, our cousin Mark over for a visit and holding our dog Bone, my sister Shawn holding our sister Donda-Lin. 

That’s me in the red shirt in the back, feeling a bit shell shocked and maybe I’m looking at my younger sister with some resentment, I can’t remember. 

Right around the time this picture was taken, Mom & Dad told us that our sister Donda-Lin was getting too big for her crib, and Shawn’s tiny bedroom wasn’t big enough for another bed; so we’d be moving to an older but bigger house in the country.  Everyone seemed fine with it, except for me.

Anyway, I was just thinking that Mom was 29 years old when she snapped this photo.  And with 5 kids.  And she wasn’t through yet.  How she did it is beyond me.

Speaking of moms, my new neighbor Sharon (I’ll be writing more about her in my next blog) told me she’d recently lost her mom, who was 91 years old.  This is such a strange, sad coincidence.  This past month, my friend & former coworker Lisa lost her mom, also in her 90s.  My blogger friend Margaret of Stargazer lost her mom, in her 90s.  My friend Robin from Canada just lost her beautiful mom, also in her 90s.

I can’t help but wonder, is it easier when you lose your mother at such an older age?  I lost my own when she was only 64.  It wasn’t sudden, we knew her end was coming, but it was still far too young for her to go.

Speaking of sisters, my youngest sister Courtney (who isn’t in that photo above, she wouldn’t be born for another 5 years) just turned 50 years old on July 2.  She lives in Ohio now with her husband Robert, and has a pretty successful business doing first aid training in the corporate sector.I can still remember the shock I felt when Mom announced she was pregnant for her—how was it possible?  She was an old lady with 5 kids, she was 34 years old! 

Anyway, Court was delighted to get her “welcome letter” from AARP, indicating she’s officially getting up there in years.  I remember when I got mine 14 years ago and wrote about it here.  Dammit, now I really am old.

I’m also grouchy, I’ve been trying not to talk about it but I’m still dealing with inflammation issues from long covid.  (Right now the center of my face feels like a bad sunburn, and the inside of my mouth is very, very sore.)  I get 3-4 days of feeling fine, then 3-4 days of this crap.

A couple days ago at the senior center, I got a few raised eyebrows when I announced I was meeting up with some high school girls this week for an outing.  I had to clarify that, I’m meeting up with my friend & former classmate Diana, and our former classmates Ruth Ann & Renee, for a visit to a local conservatory and then lunch.

I haven’t seen Diana since 2023.  I haven’t seen Ruth or Renee since 1979!  

At least I HOPE it happens.  I really need this stuff in my face to quiet down.  I’m a real barrel of laughs today, aren’t I…

Well, I know I didn’t have a lot to say or share here but I just wanted to put something new-of-sorts out there; frankly that photo of Connie & myself in my last blog was getting a little old.  I hope everyone had a nice Farce of July, and as always, thanks for dropping by.

 

 

I didn’t think it would happen but I got Connie in the flesh (for my blog I mean)

There’s not a lot to say here, but I was so happy to get this picture today I had to share it.  This is the famous ‘Cussin’ Connie’ at the Lutheran Senior center, and for as long as I’ve known Connie I’ve been asking for a photo and always got shot down. 

(I also got kicked, slapped, smacked, pinched, punched, bopped on the head—you name it.  And always the same answer:  “NO!!!”)

But today Connie was in exceptionally good spirits, and after a presentation from a guest speaker about an assisted living facility (and how they provide alcoholic beverages there which got Connie revved up) I made my pitch and she said okay—I still can’t believe it.

Connie has always been a modest person, but I admire her so much.  First of all, she looks great and attends all of the basement workouts at the center.  She lives on her own, enjoys ironing (I think that’s awesome) and still drives.  I don’t want to give away her age, but when she got married, Harry Truman was our President.  When she had her first child, my mom was only 9 years old!  What’s her secret?  She doesn’t hold anything in, that’s what!

I love her dearly and hope she knows how much this picture means to me.

Speaking of drinking (what is it with these seniors and drinking), after lunch and the place began to clear out, Dennis came over and asked if I signed up for the trip to Mission BBQ on July 16.  I said I sure did, and asked if he signed up for our trip to Narcisi Winery on July 23.

(We were there two years ago, before Dennis joined the center.  One of the best dining experiences we ever had, and I wrote all about it here.)

Anyway, Dennis said no, he didn’t sign up.  When I asked why, he said “Doug when I go on these trips I like to drink!  Does this place even serve alcohol?”

I said “IT’S A WINERY—GET YOUR BUTT OVER TO THAT SIGN-UP SHEET RIGHT NOW!!”  He laughed and said “I take it that means yes!  Okay Doug!”  

 

Picture of the Day: The pump’s off, the pump’s off!

It’s been awhile since I blogged a Picture of the Day, so I thought I’d share this drawing of my family.  I’m surprised I didn’t post this a long time ago, I almost forgot it existed until I came across it recently.

My dad (a talented artist) drew this in 1977.  From left to right was my 2 year old sister Courtney, a 15 year old me jumping for joy (because back then, I hand-washed all my shirts), my brother Steve in the plaid, my long haired sister Shawn with her arms outstretched, our oldest brother Duke behind her with his thick glasses and cap flying off his head.

That’s our sister Donda-Lin tiptoeing, and Dad is holding a giant mallet in front of the kitchen sink.  Last but not least, that’s our poor mom crawling on her hands and knees, face turned towards you & me.

As much as we loved the old farmhouse, we relied on a pretty shallow well.  If you ran the faucet for more than a couple minutes, the pump in the basement would snap on.  Whatever you were doing—washing dishes, your hair, tomorrow’s shirt for school—you had to stop until the pump switched off again. 

It was only for several minutes but was constant and frustrating. 

In 1985, after their herd thinned out some, my parents moved into a new mobile home in a very nice park with “city water”, which pleased my mom to no end.  Everytime I came to visit, she’d say “Doug, do you want to take a shower honey?  We’ve got plenty of water, take as long as you want!” 

She would also tell me to bring my dirty laundry home with me when I visited (I never did).

The funny thing is, to this day I feel guilty when I’m in my own shower for more than a couple minutes.  We were all trained growing up to take “navy showers”.

Of course, I’d happily give up my daily 10 minute shower and return to that well water if I could have these two people back in my life again.  Love and miss you, Mom & Dad.

Mom & Dad, 1977

 

Picture of the Day: Bearing an uncanny resemblance to my 62 year old grandma

A couple nights ago, I was in my customary place on my living room floor talking to my friend and former classmate Diana on the phone, about another friend and former classmate of ours who has fallen on some pretty bad times, health wise.  She may end up in a nursing home later this year.

I remarked that it was simply too incredible to fathom; she’s not even 62 for a couple weeks yet.  (Diana turned 62 this past summer, I did this past Halloween.)

Later, while going through photos on my old computer (yes, I’m taking too much time deciding what I want to move to my new laptop) I came across this picture from May 1976.  It was taken in front of my old high school, and it’s apparently May Day as my sister was a Maypole dancer.  Her dress was red with white stars, in honor of the Bicentennial. 

Grandma Morris, my sister Shawn, Dad in May 1976:  Shawn was 12 here (3 months from turning 13), Dad was 39 & Grandma 62

(Meanwhile, our dad was rockin’ that denim leisure suit!  Seriously, I’d forgotten all about it.  The man was too cool for school.)

As we’d just been discussing the good & bad of being 62, I forwarded this photo to my friend Diana to show her what 62 was looking like in 1976.  Diana gave me a chuckle when she replied:

Boy this made me laugh—I assured Diana that even though my grandmother looked perfect to me, Diana did look less grandmotherly than Grandma here.  I was being honest too.  Diana (who lives on a mostly plant-based diet) is probably in better shape now than she was in the 1970s. 

Anyway, it gave us both a good laugh and I’m glad we ended things on a positive note. But then an hour or so later, I’m in the bathroom brushing my teeth and boy, do I look like my grandma.  That’s not how it’s supposed to work… is it?

Well, on that silly note I just wanted to add a new post to my blog.  I hope everyone out there is doing good.

 

Picture of the Day: Can you guess which one is my niece Sophia?

This past weekend, my sister Shawn sent me this photo in an email without including a message.

I responded “Sophia looks prettier than ever, but I don’t like her ripped pants.”  

My niece is second from the left, and I’m well aware her jeans with the torn knees are what’s in style but I still want to sew big patches on them.  Wouldn’t they look cuter with big knee patches?

Shawn replied “I’ve always been mental about her shoes being clean and I’m glad they still are.”

I wrote back “Um what is this?” and Shawn answered “Drag Bingo.  I love how Sophia isn’t afraid to try new things.”

I suppose those ripped jeans aren’t so bad after all!   And on that note…

 

 

Picture of the Day: Here’s an oldie but a goodie…

Do people still use that expression?  “Here’s an oldie but a goodie…”  You used to hear that all the time, on the radio at least when they played an old hit from the 50’s or early ‘60s in the 1970s. 

But I wasn’t necessarily talking about the Ray Charles song on display on this contraption, but the contraption itself.

I bought this MP3 player in December 2009 on Amazon, a Sony Walkman.  It has 8GB storage—I have over a thousand songs on it and there’s still room for 500 more.  I kept it in my workbag, it was only used in the office and the bus ride there & back.

It’s not very big; a quarter inch thick, and that’s the actual size of the thing at the top.  Frankly I’m surprised it’s discontinued, the technology still amazes me.

The reason I’m showing it here is because of recent events at the Tiffany (where I live).  I may not look it, but I use the exercise room in our building’s basement at least 4 days a week.  There’s a large flat panel tv on the wall, and while on the treadmill or stairclimber I’d have that Roku tv on, watching an “Oldies” music channel of rock n’ roll from the 1960s-1980s.

But several days ago, the television stopped working—well, stopped streaming.  It turns out one of the tenants in the building was paying for the service down there, but moved out.  No one else has stepped up yet to keep it going.

I was having trouble with my daily exercise routine with nothing to listen to, and was debating bringing my bookshelf radio down there when I remembered this MP3 player from my pre-retirement days.  I dug out my old workbag, and there it was.

But I hadn’t turned it on in 8 years, would it still work?  It sure did, after I plugged its USB cord into my laptop to charge for a couple hours.  When it came on I laughed out loud; it was still at the midway point thru Patty Duke’s ‘Funny Little Butterflies’, what I’d been listening to while cleaning out my desk my last day in the office.

So a couple nights ago, finished with my workout downstairs, I got on the elevator to come back upstairs and it stopped on the first floor (where the lobby is) and 2 young men got on.  I’ve seen them here before, they’re recent move-ins on the 6th floor.  They’re both at least 6’3” and can’t be older than 19-20, and look very much alike.  I’m sure they’re brothers.

I was still wearing my earbuds, but the device was turned off—so I heard the first one behind me say “Can he hear us?” and the second one said “I don’t think so”.  This is what I heard after that.

“What’s he holding, is that a Walkman?”  “Nah, Walkmans are bigger. They play tapes.”  “Is it a radio?”  “Maybe he’s listening to the Pens.”  “Maybe he’s a Swiftie.”  “Haha ask him if he even knows what that is.”

Anyway, I was facing the doors and biting my lip to keep from laughing.  But it amazed me that they didn’t know what I was even holding; is an mp3 player from 2009 an antique already?  I saw on the news recently that 9 out of 10 people under the age of 20 own iphones or ipads only.  I know Apple is premium tech but that still blew me away.

And for the record I know what a Swiftie is, and I’m not one of ‘em!  But 40 years ago when I owned a Walkman that DID play cassettes, I listened to blondes like Stevie Nicks, Olivia Newton-John, Mary Hopkin, Belinda Carlisle and Stacey Q.  And I still do.

 

Pictures of the Day: A Saturday at the Pow Wow--Hiiiya!

This week, several of us from our senior center had the opportunity to attend the 44th Annual Pow Wow in Dorseyville Pa. (in Indian—I mean Indiana Township).  The day started cloudy but warm, but minutes after arriving the temperature fell 15 degrees and the rain moved in.

Luckily, one of the vendors there (a lovely woman from the Cheyenne tribe) hooked me up with this Indian serape blanket that kept me warm & dry.  It came with a note of authenticity, y’know!

I feel like a chooch that I didn’t take more photos other than the few below.  There were tents galore with Native American jewelry, blankets, bows & arrows, peace pipes, tomahawks, medicine pouches, leather goods… there was this camel leather tabletop teepee (with a fireproof base to burn sage) I must’ve picked up and set down 25 times.  I wish I’d bought it.

Strangely, the only food available at this indigenous shindig was fry bread, corn chili & buffalo burgers.  I was hoping to bring home some eats but other than some venison jerky (uh…no) there was no more to be found. 

I’m just glad we ate early, after the first break in the Indian dancing, the line for food stretched half a mile!

Speaking of dancing, I now have a slow drumbeat and ear-worm caught in my noggin:  HIYA!  Hiya hiya hiya….

Golden Age women—enter the circle and perform your dance!

Golden Age men—it is your turn to join the circle and dance!

Young warriors—gather in the circle, and dance!

Couples newly joined it is your turn to dance!  (I loved this young woman’s dress, her rows of hollow tubes played windsong)

All tribes enter the circle and dance!

And last, the fire keeper dances in the rain

Pictures of the Day: A ride on the Incline and the Grandview Saloon!

The day before yesterday was a gorgeous day in Pittsburgh, and some of us from the center went on a little road trip to the Grandview Saloon on Mt. Washington for lunch.

Mount Washington sits high above the city’s skyline and it’s where some of the ‘burgh’s best (and most expensive restaurants) are located.  You can either take a long & windy drive up there, or ride the Duquesne Incline straight up a STEEP mountainside.

I’ve lived in the city 35 years, been to Mt. Washington probably 20 times, seen the Incline (from below) a thousand times easy, and this was my FIRST trip on it. 

Here we go!

Inside the Incline car on the way up the mountain—the car (and it’s hammered copper ceiling) is 146 years oldPearl, Margie & Colleen (Colleen coordinated the outing but insisted she wasn’t our chaperone, so live it up)

And there’s me, having a flat hair day

I took this picture out the rear of our car to capture the steepness of the hill, and caught my friend Janet & her Elton John glasses on the right

We made it to the top!  Here’s a pic of our group on the observation deck; Gary (the big guy on the right) just shouted “Isn’t this great Chuck?”  He insists on calling me Chuck.  I’m okay with it.The Incline’s Museum, which I later whined I needed to go back and get a souvenir; Colleen said “Douglas you have 10 minutes and not a second more!”

Inside the Grandview Saloon—hmm, it doesn’t LOOK like a saloon, but it sure had beautiful views of the city

The view outside our window; you can see people dining on the patio below

And finally, what I had for lunch—a Reuben platter.  I know it’s not pretty, I forgot to take the pic until I was halfway done :^)