Scariest Halloween Ever

 

Joe the Plumber and Barack (Mark) Obama. Halloween, 2008

I don't know what to do about Halloween. Do I buy candy to give to the kids, or won't they be coming by? Last thing I need is a bag of candy in the house and no kids to hand it out to. Last year not one kid, nobody, came to our house trick or treating. Probably because we had experienced a Chicago phenomenon. Snow, ice, and temperatures in the low twenties. Rare for October, but it is Chicago where weather rules don't apply. This year, we have a virus that kids could be leaving on the doorstep of every house on our block. Kind of a reverse trick or treat. 

"Here grandpa, have some corona and thanks for the contaminated Snickers." 

Halloween was always Mark's thing. He would buy bags and bags of candy for the kids. He would dress up in costume to go out to party in the bars. I would do nothing. However, this year I am on my own. So today I will go to the Jewel and buy one small bag of candy, just in case. I'll make sure it's one that my friend Dennis likes so it won't go to waste. In fact, maybe I won't buy any candy at all. No need to give Dennis diabetes. Instead, I'll turn off all the lights, pull the shades, and hope nobody comes around. Damn this covid19 shit is scary.

Garfield Goose and Friends

 

When we were kids there were five television stations in Chicago. The big three networks, Channel Nine, and Channel Eleven. Channel Nine was only good for after school. About ninety minutes of Three Stooges, Popeye, and Garfield Goose until dinner time. After dinner WGN, Channel Nine, got boring and Channel Eleven was useless to us. It was the 'educational' channel. Hard to watch, like dry white toast. The one good thing about television back then was that it was free and easy to access. Just get up off the sofa, walk over to the TV, and turn the big channel knob if you wanted to watch something else. Years later came the remote control in my adult life, and it was even easier to watch television. And oh my god, cable television came along and I was in heaven. Well, it seems that something evil has taken over my television watching these days. I keep seeing spots advertising new and exciting shows, but I can't get them. No, they're on the fifty new streaming services that have popped up in the last few years. Now I can't just flip through the channels to find a show. I have to grab the 'smart TV' remote and switch over to the streaming menu. Then I have to find what I'm looking for once I get to that service, which often involves scrolling through endless viewing options. An hour later I still haven't watched anything and I have sore flipper thumb. Can anybody tell me where the hell to find Peacock TV? Apple TV? Fuqknuts TV? Yes, there are some options that I can't even find. Which is why I often find myself scrolling down to the low end of the cable TV guide and end up watching sixty year old crap in black and white.

Nom Nom

 

Mark liked to pack the refrigerator with food. I have slimmed that down drastically. Another thing about Mark, he didn't like leftovers. He called leftovers, used food. I grew up on leftovers. Mom would often make enough food to feed twenty people and save half of that for another day. Sometimes incorporating it into one of her infamous casseroles. That's what I do. I'll fry up one of those 'family packs' of chicken and put the stuff I don't eat into plastic food savers. That's a big peeve of mine, family packs. Twenty pieces of chicken or pork in one package at half the price of a package with only two  pieces in it. Grocery stores taking advantage of single people. Anyway, I opened the fridge yesterday afternoon looking for lunch. There were only three of those plastic food savers in there, but for the life of me I couldn't remember what was in two of them. The one on top was salmon from Saturday night, but what was in those other two. I popped open the one under the salmon. Ah ha, bratwurst from Friday's lunch, with sautéed onions. I had completely forgot about that. Then I opened up the smaller container next to the cream cheese. 'What the hell is that' I asked myself. was it tuna salad? If it was, it would mean it was about six weeks old because I only would make that for Mark. I put my nose up close to the container. No foul odor. Hmmm... I poked at it with a fork. It had some kind of meat and little bits of diced vegetables in it. That's when I looked down and saw two drooling dogs staring up at me. Of course, it was the 'Nom Nom Beef Mash' my sister Caroline gave me for the dogs. It was dog food. Probably would taste great on one of those croissants I picked up at the Jewel on Thursday.

Alan Gets a Flu Shot

 

I went to the doctor yesterday. My original intent was to get a flu shot and I figured as long as I was there he could give me my yearly health checkup. I kind of like this new covid19 way of doing things. The doctor's office schedules patients so that there isn't more than one in the waiting room at any one time. So wait time was minimal. I was quickly ushered into the examination room and soon after the nurse finished with my vitals, the doctor came in. I guess turning the magic age of seventy triggers some new questions from the doctor. 

"Have you been depressed or sad in the last four weeks?"

Well crap. I answered "yes."

The doctor looked up at me, but said nothing.

"Remember when I told you about my partner? I wanted him to come and see you?"

"Yes, I remember."

"He passed away three weeks ago."

After a bit of discussion about that the doc then asked me if I felt like hurting myself or others. I suppose there are those who go to pieces at times like this, but I shook my head and said, "No, no way. I don't think like that." The doctor then started asking more questions about how I live and deal with things. He asked if I was afraid of falling down stairs? Ummm... yes. You would have to be stupid not to be afraid of falling down stairs. Falling down stairs hurts, so yes, I fear hurting myself. More questions to be answered. Do I cook for myself? Can I dress myself? Do I need help bathing? And so on, and so on. For krissakes, I'm not an invalid. I simply turned seventy years old ten months ago. I'm sad, my back hurts, my feet hurt, and my fingers hurt, but I'm not going to fall down the stairs while trying to kill somebody after getting dressed and cooking breakfast. So when it was all over, the doctor renewed my blood pressure medicine, cholesterol medicine, ordered a blood test, and said goodbye. As the nurse walked me down to the lab for the blood work, I asked her...

"What about the flu shot?"

"Oh, we're out of those. Ran out this morning, but you'll be on the list when we get some more"

Old Guy Tech

 

$100, a bargain at that price

For twenty five years my career was computers. I fixed them and I knew how to use them. I could sit down in front of a strange computer and figure things out with a minimum of fuss. It's been fifteen years since I retired from that line of work. So what the hell happened to me? I inherited Mark's iPhone and an iPad, and I can't figure them out. At least not yet. The way they work just isn't self-evident (not the word I was looking for, but for the life of me I can't remember the word I wanted). Anyway, I'm trying to de-clutter this house and I want to sell off some things. When I told my sisters Lisa and Carolyn I was doing that, I was told to "Use OfferUp or Facebook Marketplace. It's easy." So I downloaded the app for OfferUp and gave it a try. I don't think it is easy. I want to sell a day bed so I read up on what OfferUp thinks is the best way to do things. One thing they tell you is to meet your prospective buyer in a safe place. Then they list safe places they have, like police stations. What in the hell? I'm not schlepping a day bed to a police station or a shopping center parking lot, another location they gave. And then there is the collecting of money. That was not made clear to me. I simply want somebody to come to my house with a fist full of cash and take away the day bed. So I gave up on OfferUp. Instead I used Facebook Marketplace. On Saturday I posted two photos of the day bed, the amount I wanted, and waited for somebody to bite. This is what I got.

"Hola. ¿Sigue disponible?"

"Still available. Near Peterson and California."

"También incluye los colchones"

"Si, mattresses included."

"Cuál es tu dirección y mañana voy por ellos"

"5*** North Fairfield Avenue, Chicago"

"Ok manaña voy por ellos como a las 10am"

"Si, Mi español no es bueno. 10am okay"

"Ok thank"

Sunday at 9:58 AM

"Are you on your way here?"

One hour later I sent this text.

"I will have to put the bed as available again if you're not here by 11."

I finally got this answer.

"Okay ... I'm looking for a truck, my friend looked bad"

Suddenly the buyer can speak English. So I told her.

"The bed will have to be dismantled to get it out of the room. So you don't need that much room in a vehicle. Debe desmontar la cama. No problemo, es facil"

An hour later.

"Do you know what time you will be here?"

This is the answer I got.

"Contact left the group. "

She never did show up and I had at least four other people inquiring about the bed that I passed on while I waited for her. So the hell with the computer. I'm putting a sign out in the front yard with a picture of the bed. $100 cash and no bullshit. Or.... maybe I can get one of my tech savvy nieces or nephews to help me.