I'll Have The Steamed Broccoli

Mark is a saboteur. No matter how many times I tell him what I can and can't eat, I still get steak and potatoes, fried chicken, or some other high cholesterol, high fat food on my dinner plate. Of course, because Mark is such a good cook, I can't resist it. It's like putting crack in front of a crack head, I devour his delicious dinners only to feel remorse later as I look at my belly in the mirror. So how is my diet going? Today I stepped on the scale and it literally cracked in half. This is an embarrassing development, and I will have to try harder to lose a few pounds before my next doctors appointment. I wasn't able to actually weigh myself, but breaking the scale leads me to believe that I haven't lost any weight, and possibly could have gained a few pounds. The only other way to rationalize breaking the scale is to point out that it was made in China and we all know that the Chinese are a small and lightweight people. But then again, why would they build a scale that goes up to 330 pounds if they didn't want a fat American to actually get on it, and try to reach that number? I will be restarting my diet first thing tomorrow. Why tomorrow? Because on tonight's menu, Mark has prepared stone crab claws with a dipping sauce, and a pasta with bacon in a goat cheese sauce. Oh yes, he has included one thing that is on my diet, green beans..........with bacon bits.......sautéed in olive oil.

Moving Day

Here in our neighborhood when walking your dog, it is considered good manners to pick up your dogs poop and take it home with you. Luckily I have found a spot where nobody can see Molly taking a dump and if nobody else is around, I leave it. Now if she can't squeeze it out at that spot and she craps on somebody's front lawn, I do pick it up and carry it back home in a plastic bag. I know, I should always pick up the turds, but it is such a long walk with a stinky bag of poop.

I have a lot more poop cleaning in my future. Cat poop that is, because I have finally made the move and brought Fat Kitty into our house. So far, so good. I put her in a cat carrier, that I then left in my office where Carlotta could come in and sniff her. It seemed to work. Carlotta looked into the carrier, and then turned around and left. After Carlotta left I opened it up and let Fat Kitty walk around. She immediately went over to the kitty litter box and took a crap and a leak. I'm so proud of her.

This morning Fat Kitty went to the doctor for her shots, and a general checkup. This included bagging up a pile of her fresh poop, and bringing it with me. All I can say about that is, Fat Kitty's poop is very aromatic. The doctor said she is in good health, no worms, no fleas, and she weighs over eleven pounds. In contrast, Carlotta weighs less than five pounds. This morning Carlotta got a good look at Fat Kitty up close and out of her cage for the first time. It apparently scared the hell out of Carlotta to find out just how big Fat Kitty is, because she has been hiding under the bed ever since.

Other than that, everything seems to be fine. Molly and Fat Kitty have agreed on sharing the sofa in my office, just as long as Molly keeps a one cushion buffer, and Carlotta did come out from under the bed for her late afternoon meal. The best part about the whole thing is that I now have two proven rat killers in the house. So I say to the rats, Bring It On!

Yeehaw!

I had never been to a rodeo before this past Saturday afternoon. My image of a rodeo is based solely upon the movies 'Bus Stop' and 'The Misfits', both of which starred Marilyn Monroe. After actually going to the 'Florida Gay Rodeo', that image has been shattered. The closest thing to Marilyn Monroe at this rodeo was a drag queen who didn't just vamp around like Marilyn, but actually participated in the events. Unfortunately for the drag queen, she ended up being carried out of the rodeo ring after losing a wrestling match with a small steer.

Mark has wanted to go the gay rodeo for the last few years, but I always said no because all I could envision was a lot of dirt, dust, humidity, and heat. I was right about all four of those things, but I enjoyed it anyway. It was an adventure in absurdity and corniness, that none the less entertained me.

After finding seats and getting refreshments from the 'Burger Barn', we were ready to watch a rodeo. The first event was bareback bronco riding. Now I don't exactly know what Mark had expected at a rodeo, I assumed he knew what it was, since he was the one who wanted to go. As the first contestant came out of the chute, and rode the bucking bronco to the middle of the ring, I could hear gasps and small squeaks coming from Mark. When the rider was finally heaved up in the air, and landed with a thud along side the still bucking horse, Mark let out a shriek and a string of "oh my Gods". It was as if he was channeling Marilyn in ‘Bus Stop‘. I almost expected him to run down into the ring to try to help poor guy, just like in the movie.

It went on like that for the whole afternoon. Mark at first fearing that the cowboys would get their heads caved in, and reacting to each bad fall or trampling with a loud shriek. At the same time he would cry out in horror at the awful animal cruelty we were witnessing, and loudly call for an end to it.

I don't know if it is cruelty, there are pros and cons on that subject. It didn't look like the animals were mistreated. At the worst, they looked a little pissed at being tossed around, and would get up and calmly walk away. What I thought was weird, is that Mark would worry so much about the poor 'cows' as he called them, while eating a cheese burger.

Photo Friday

More like video Friday.

I have owned five Studebaker's. I vividly remember the "Mr. Ed" show being sponsored by Studebaker. I only wish I could have bought a brand new Avanti in 1963, or a Hawk GT would have sufficed.

I Eat'em by the Sack Full

So many things that are enjoyable, are just so damn bad for you. Right now I am eating some jelly beans from Easter, which I told Mark NOT to bring into the house. These of course, are not on my diet, and I know they are bad for me, yet I continue to pound them down because they are the 'gourmet' jelly beans and I love them.

It's not just that I do and eat things that are bad for me, I crave them. Take for instance smoking. Twenty four years after quitting, I still crave sitting back and smoking a cigarette while enjoying another bad thing, a cocktail. Maybe instead of looking for a cure for lung cancer, they should try inventing a safe cigarette, and safe liquor.

One craving that I just can't fulfill, and it's probably just as well, is White Castle. Often I crave those little square sliders, yet here in Florida you just can't get them. Sure they have the frozen ones at the supermarket, but it just isn't the same. When you put them in the microwave, they come out weird, with the bread all chewy, and none of that good grease that comes right off the grill. They also have an imitator here in Florida, called Krystal. Krystal sucks. Just because your burger is square and small, doesn't make it a White Castle.

Now it is my opinion that a White Castle burger can't be all that bad for you. It seems to have some medicinal value. I know, because I used to use it as an antidote for another bad thing. A hangover. When I lived in Chicago, if I woke up with a hangover, I'd stop at the White Castle for breakfast on my way to work. Three cheeseburgers at eight in the morning, and I was feeling fine. Jelly beans won't do that for you.

Animal House

When I was a kid my dad and mom took us to the Brookfield Zoo just about every summer. I really didn't like zoos when I was a little boy. It wasn't the animals fault, they did their best to amuse me, but I just couldn't get past the smell. Somehow the antics of the monkey house just weren't that much fun when my eyes were watering from the acrid smell of primate urine. My dad tried to help entertain me and my siblings, by giving us a bag of marshmallows to throw to the undernourished beasts, but I think that only added to the smell of the place. Back then zookeepers thought it was a good idea to allow visitors to throw any kind of edible crap to the animals. Another reason I didn't like going to the zoo is that we seemed to always go on the hottest day of the year, and the zoo exhibits were spaced quite far apart. It was like a safari in deepest, tropical Africa, as we trudged from the pachyderm house to the lion house in ninety five degree heat.
When I got older and moved into Chicago, I discovered the Lincoln Park Zoo. It was the opposite of Brookfield Zoo, it was small, free to get into, and easy to visit in the cool months. It still had the odor problem though, vaguely like a Chicago taxi cab. The fact is that animals stink, but if you avoided the enclosed exhibits, you could have an enjoyable time.

On my first trip to South Florida, my friend Rudy took Garet and me to a place called Lion Country Safari. This seems to be the perfect Zoo because the animals roam freely over many acres and the way you see the animals is to drive your air-conditioned auto down a winding road directly through the animals habitat. The lions, and all the other animals can come right up to the car and say hello. I don't remember what kept the lions from attacking the gazelles, but they seemed to co-exist just fine. The zoo brochure says that they feed the lions just before the place opens so that they aren't looking to eat you. Maybe it makes the gazelles less appetizing.

Now what I found most interesting, was what was at the end of the hour and a half ride through the wild animal exhibit, a petting zoo. Here in the petting zoo, you could get out of your car and mingle with all the non-lethal animals. The animals most prominent in the petting zoo were the baby goats. Probably a hundred baby goats that you could feed by dropping a quarter into a gumball machine that dispensed goat chow. They were so cute, they'd come right up to you and nuzzle you until you gave them their goat chow. It took me a few minutes, but then I noticed, no adult goats. Where were the adult goats? Finally it dawned on me. I was paying twenty five cents a handful for goat chow, to fatten up these baby goats. I have a sneaking suspicion that I know what Lion Country Safari feeds the lions before the place opens.

That Sinking Feeling

It started a couple of months ago with a few air bubbles in the clean water return, I just figured the trap at the pool filter had a small leak. After checking out the trap and filter, I just chalked it up to old age. After all, my swimming pool is at least forty five years old. Then this past Thursday night I noticed the water level had dropped about two inches, and on Friday morning, another one inch. I don't think this is going to be good.

It is the quintessential symbol of Florida living, the swimming pool in the back yard, or as I refer to it, that hole full of liquid money draining away. It costs money to put water into it, it costs money for all the chemicals. When any of the mechanicals break, your budget breaks along with it. Most people have a pool service to clean it, at about eighty dollars a month. Besides all those expenses, you have the electric bill. My pool uses about one hundred dollars worth of electricity per month. I don't need any more expense, so I am hoping this apparent water leak is not as dire as it appears to be.

Upon closer inspection of the far end of the pool, an area I don't venture out to very often, I have noticed that small cracks in the deck have now become large cracks. I have also noticed the definite sound of water sloshing under the concrete. This creates a reciprocal sloshing of acid in my stomach, so I have called a company that finds pool leaks and fixes them. This morning the man from Florida Leak Locators, located my leak, or should I say leaks, and it is every bit as bad as I thought. He informed me that I need my pool re-piped. This involves chopping two holes in the pool from the inside, replacing the pipes, and them rebuilding the wall of the pool. He didn't have an immediate estimate, but his ballpark figure was more than two thousand dollars.

I do have another option, and it really is tempting. Chop out the bottom of the pool, fill the entire thing in with soil, and plant a nice garden. For all I would be saving in pool expenses, I could hire a garden maintenance man for a fraction of that.