Tag Archives: old dude

First World Problems: Of Leaves and Kids and High Inconvenience

Where’s the time going?

15 October? Crapsky. I have some things I have to get done in October and here we are at the middle of the month and so far I’ve accomplished exactly one those things. ONE. I got the leaves up in the back yard. I’d say raked, but that’s really only part of the way I roll around here.

But I’m going to point out here that in my yard, leaf gathering is not exactly trivial. We have a lot of trees and and a lot of leaves to get raked up, or in my case mowed up. Hmm? Easy? STFU over there, I have to run the mower over them about 4 times to chop them up small enough so they don’t overwhelm my containment devices. Not to mention pass through a mower chute, which  you know what, that old chute gets clogged up a lot more than it should, which makes the job even more challenging and difficult. Not to mention, super annoying. SUPER ANNOYING.

And when that thing gets clogged up, you have to reach down the cute and pull out the leaves and you know, that takes time. MINUTES every time I do it. Minutes I could have been spending with my daughter or spending with my wife, deepening our bond of love.

Except that neither one of them were home this weekend, but IF THEY HAD BEEN..

Fact is I missed the kickoff for the Vikings game because I was out there fighting with Mother Nature’s Fall bounty. The price I pay for living in the woods.

And when you reach down the cute to pull out the leaves and clear the jam, just before it’s clear there is this explosion of leaves, twigs and dirt that comes shooting out of the thing at hurricane force and which always hits me squarely in the face, leaving me picking debris out of my teeth and glasses every time. “So” you say, “turn the blades off and clear it safely and without getting leaf blasted, you might keep all your digits. ”That would add several additional minutes to a chore I detest to begin with, and, you kind have to have the thing running to know when you’ve actually cleared the mess, otherwise you could wind up having to try clearing it over and over again, and that.. would be aggravating.

Speaking of aggravating, thanks to the ongoing drought I basically have no living grass in the backyard, in its stead I have dirt. Dry powdery dirt, which despite Saturdays day long misting, makes every pass of the mower look like a re-creation of the Dust Bowl, huge clouds of the stuff engulf the mower and its hapless rider. Oh the boogies that dust can raise. Not to mention the breathing problems.

“Sank, why don’t you wear a dust mask?” A great idea from the gallery, and I would have, except I didn’t have one handy and since getting one would require a drive to the hardware store and you know, make this job take even more minutes, I just wasn’t in the mood. Wish I had been  because I also could have gotten gas for the mower. Instead I did the old “I think I have enough to get this done”. Which I did not.

And this mower, this brand new picky finicky rider mower that I purchased in cahoots with two other neighbors, only drinks non-oxygenated gas which can only be purchased at a certain gas station in town that’s over 3 miles away. 3 MILES and like 10 lights ‘cuase you have to cross some busy thoroughfares to get there.  Gawd the barriers life puts in front of us. Nothing is easy.

I did mention that it’s a rider mower I’m working with right? I have a big hill in the yard and if you don’t get a moving start, there’s the very real chance the mower will not make it up the hill, more inconvenience.

And finally the cherry on top of this wretched event, I received call a at 3:30 from the daughter, informing me it was my responsibility to go buy her dinner and bring it to her at the school where she was working on some play construction deal. “Honey, I’ll go through the McDonalds drive through and get you something ‘K? I don’t want to go in.” “Dad, I don’t eat McDonalds, I require Panda Express and specifically lemon chicken on chow mien noodles. Nothing else will do.” I called my wife, she was out helping a friend paint a kitchen, and you know what, to be honest, she wasn’t as sympathetic to the colossal pile of circumstances which were all coming together at that moment to put a serious harsh on my buzz. It’s like she didn’t, even care.

Didn’t

Even

Care.

*sigh* so I responded with the most passive aggressive “fine” I could muster. Left the mower sitting the yard,  got in my newly detailed car and drove to Panda Express. Since it was a pretty decent afternoon I opened the window, fresh air being a nice break from the last ½ hour inhaling topsoil and leaves. As I was driving I noticed things flying around the car, which on closer inspection I found to be pieces of finely diced leaf material. And there was lot of it. So much that my car is now un-detailed and might even need to be raked. Add that to the misery factor.

At the Panda Express I was in one foul mood, there was a dark cloud over my head I assure you. Actually there really was a cloud. A dust cloud that came off me and with every movement I looked like pigpen from Peanuts. And when you’re a little self conscious and being slightly less fresh than you’d like to be in public you are in no mood to take stupid stares from the Panda Express people as you are ordering food. No damned mood. And I have to admit I was a tad rude. Matter of fact, there were more than a couple people looking at me funny, must’a been the leaves on my shirt I figured.

Hell wit’um I’ll never see them again.

Got her food, drove to the school, met my daughter at the school and passed off the bag with a curmudgeonly “harumph”.

“Dad, what happened to you?”  OK, the last thing I needed at that point in the day was a scolding from a teeny bopper for being a nanosecond late with her prized gawdamned Panda Express lemon chicken over chow mien noodles and I was just about to unload on her when she added “look at your face.”

Looking back at me from the rearview mirror was a reverse raccoon looking apparition. Dark face, white eyes where my glasses were. Actually I looked like I’d painted my face up for a war movie, the bits of leaf stuck to my forehead and hair, little black lines accentuating the latest crop of wrinkles I’ve developed added to the effect.

Won’t be going back to Panda Express in Apple Valley any time soon.

Back home I resumed the combining process, got all everything done, put the mower away and headed for the shower impressed with my perseverance in overcoming the plethora of obstacles thrown at me in my first world suburbanite existence. It’s amazing what a fella can overcome.

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Saturday Night and I Ain’t Got Nobody

I swear I’ve been down with a cold for going on 7 weeks now. Basically on and off since 3 January. Sometime this week, when I thought I was finally on the mend it turned into a full blown sinus infection.

Thank you CPAP. I’m certain it has something to do with because I sure wake up feeling crummy, dried out nose and mouth and all. But I’m not going to bitch about it because I’m a man and we suffer in silence. Especially when complaining gets us nowhere.

Big news here at old and in the way, after some prodding from a friend of mine who’s got one of the coolest blogs in Minnesota, Black Twin Cities, I finally got around to creating and Old and in the Way shoppe, a way to feed your inner old dude and celebrate crumdgeonness.

I even sold something off the site, a serious milestone for this space because after 7 years, 1800 odd posts and more content than the Encyclopedia Britannica, well A-C anyway I’ve earned my first revenue from the site.. well actually I potentially earned my first revenue but apparently I have to tell the store what I want my mark up to be on the products or they sell them at cost.

Which is what happened. Never mind it’s about the publicity and the love that we move these products.

Mrs S suggested that I should study markup and cost, maybe learn something about an industry she called Re-Tail. That’s where stores come from. Not a bad idea I guess.

You simply must check it out BTW-

Old and in the Way Store

After all these years of suggesting that I, on occasion wear a thong, well now you can too, and it has the logo on it to boot. Maybe we’ll put up a fan photo gallery where folks can take pictures of their stuff in weird and exotic locations.

I mean you go to an exotic location and take a picture of the stuff there, not show me a picture the stuff near your exotics.. nevah mind. 

The NEW logo too mind you. The “Old Dudes Rule” logo, which I think is going to become as big as Steal This Face logo in certain circles in a certain block of a certain southern suburb of the Twin Cities if you know what I mean.

Other than that, the day was wash. A sinus wash mostly as I utilized my self water-boarding kit from the fine folks at Nettie Pot or Sinus Rinse or something like that. It’s impossible to keep secrets from yourself with a twice a day waterboarding. I believe it works. Told myself several “true dats”.

I’ve been trying to get excited about the Daytona 500 tomorrow. Mrs S is thrilled to death about it, I could just tell by the way she said “How long is that thing on?” when I mentioned I’d like to watch it this weekend. Just planning her day as far as I can tell, although most Sunday afternoons she’s pretty scarce so I’m not sure why she even cares. Not to mention that theres talk we could get a good 40 to 50 millimeters of snow tomorrow. Boy that’s gonna mess up plans. It’ll add to the 35 millimeters we already have on the ground. Snowmageddon if you will, not sure what we’ll do except stock up on provisions and make sure we have some antibiotics around.

The Man Who Wouldn’t Cry Wolf

So, I have to ask you kind folks.. see how weird are we here at the Casa Del Sank-a-Ray. Imagine for a moment if you will, 2:15 am. You are rousted from a deep sleep by the sound of your home smoke alarm screaming away in the hallway. What do you do?

Do you:

  1. Wake up your spouse (assuming she’s handy and not a floor up) and roll to the ground, army crawl to the door where you feel it with the back of your hand to see if it’s hot?
  2. Immediately grab the phone can dial 911 and report a potential fire?
  3. Wonder out loud “what the f#ck is wrong with the damned fire alarm, get up, run into the hallway and attempt to turn it off, discover that you can’t reach it, go into the basement and grab your sons tennis racquet and proceed to swat at the thing in the haze of sudden sleepius interruptus and whack the thing off the ceiling, making the sound stop, drop the racquet in the hallway and go back to bed, never even for a second considering that there might have been a fire somewhere nearby?
Please make your selection. What do you think I did in this same scenario three years ago? You are allowed one guess.
So, this weekend at a lovely dinner club party we had a similar experience, only this time it was a carbon monoxide detector. Nothing to fool with. But my first thought, battery. second thought, bad sensor. At no time did I think it had anything to do with carbon monoxide. Even when the one in the basement went off, my thought.. “wow what a weird coincidence that both batteries would die on the same day.”
I know crazy that would happen. Luckily there were smarter people than I around and a call was made to the utility company. “They said we need get out of the house right now”. We’d really just sat down and the wine had been poured and frankly, it’s cold out there.
Ignore.
A few minutes later when the gas company guy came by with the sensor he walked around us, not before calling us stupid folks with a death wish, and announced that we “need to leave the house NOW” due to the presence of carbon monoxide.
So let me get this straight, the sensors were going off because they actually picked up the presence of the gas?
No WAY.
Way.
And out we went, freezing cold for about 20 minutes until the all clear came. Source found, problem solved, house safe.
This morning Mrs S, remarking on how we’d cheated death, and she asked me about this same situation with our fire alarm. Pointing out that the spot on the ceiling where the alarm used to be.. is still empty, three years later.
So among other things this weekend I’ve replaced our alarms, checked our carbon monoxide detectors and brought some security back to the family. What I can’t guarantee is what my reaction will be should they go off again.
I’m lame that way.

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