Tennis shoes suck these days

I'm one of those people who buy one pair of sneakers a year.  You know, to wear with shorts.  At the end of the season they get thrown on the pile of "wear these to mow the grass."   That pile is starting to look more appealing to me of late.  Maybe I'm just too old.  You know the saying, "If it's too loud, you're too old"?   I guess the same thing applies to not liking the shoes these days.  If they're too neon...   I can't understand the latest trend of shoes that don't match anything you'd actually wear.  I was asked of my new trendy sneeks, "Do they glow in the dark?"   Glow in the dark?   Hell, they glow in the light.   Neon is only one of my problems.  What happened to arch support?   When I was trying on my new neon pink shoes I saw an entire display of these sleeve looking things.   I asked, "What are those?" to the young clerk who explained, "Oh, those are in case you need more support", eyeing me with a knowing glance that implied she knew I needed them.  "Support?  You mean for $100 support isn't included?"  I gasped.   "These aren't even made of solid material" I complained.  "If it rains or the wind blows, these babies are going to feel more like flip flops than tennis shoes."  The clerk just shrugged.   This was actually my fourth store in a day of trying to just find a simple pair of tennis shoes.  They don't seem to exist anymore.  If you find a pair somewhere please let me know.  

Neighbors

What makes a good neighbor?  In my neighborhood, just like the saying goes, a privacy fence.  I've lived in my house for four years and EVERY year I have said, "I want a privacy fence."  First there was the questionable water drainage problems from the house where the people from the islands live.  They seem to have an endless supply of their own "medicinal" marijuana.  They have so much water coming from their house they flooded out most of the grass in my backyard.  The actual turf kind.  That and the strange amount of extra electrical wiring going up to their attic makes me wonder just what might be growing over there.  They are pretty laid back though so they don't get on my nerves too much and they eventually put in some French drain or something so the water goes out to the street now.  Draining down the road days after any rain...

On the other side of my yard I have a family who never actually spend much time in their backyard.  A blessing. However they like to like leave ladders in their trees.  Maybe that's where they hang out.  Seriously, one roof height ladder leaning up against every tree.  I want to say, "What's the deal with the ladders?", but they're never around to ask.  My Mom asked me if peeping toms live next door.  They also like to park their vehicles on the street with a big orange cone behind their back bumper to warn people not to squeeze by too closely.   I just shake my head and drive past to my driveway. Which is where you're supposed to park right?

My number one reason for the privacy fence goes to the people who live directly behind me.  Where do I start with them?   First let's talk about their trees.   They have twelve. Let me say that again, TWELVE full grown Oak trees in their backyard. Sounds like I live in a neighborhood with acre lots or something right?   No.  Not even close.  They live on .21 of an acre.  Not even a QUARTER OF AN ACRE!   Oh and did I mention they are growing a new baby Oak tree that just popped up out of the ground and a new pine tree that will grow to about 50 feet like the one they used to have but cut down before I moved in because it was falling over.  So that's 14 trees.   Good luck with those last two.  They'll be in assisted living before they mature.  This for a couple who like to compost  their leaves.  One day I looked out my back window and saw the man building some sort of pen.  I thought he was going to get some chickens or something.  No.  This was for his compost pile.  He has been piling up leaves and watering them down for the past four years.  The thing is overflowing.  It looks like a leaf igloo for bigfoot.  Where do you think he put this compost pile?  Off to the side out of view?   No.  Right smack in the middle of the yard. It has been a lovely view from my couch.

My 2nd summer here I got an above ground pool. That's when the stalking began.  My toe could touch the backyard and they would be out the door in a flash.   "Hey girl!  Like that pool.   We're going to sneak in there when you're gone sometime."  Ah, not.  I cut down a few trees in my backyard to make room for the pool.  The next Saturday yelling from their upstairs window, "Hey girl!  Can we have some of that firewood?"  Ah, no.  Cut down the forest in your backyard and you'd have enough wood to make it through the rest of your Winters.  Then one day when I was up to my ears in dirt from planting bushes that I was going to try and grow into a natural fence I hear, "Hey girl!  I'm thinking about starting a dog walking business.  Can I walk your dog?"   Ahhhhhhh, no.  What is the deal with these people?  Finally, one 105 degree afternoon when everyone with a pulse was inside I decided to make a break for the pool.  "They're not going to come out in this heat" I thought.  I shouldn't have made a splash.  Or maybe they have a camera pointed at the pool.  Two minutes into my swim the man comes out, sits down in a 1970s lawn chair, and turns the sprinkler on himself.   Fully clothed and staring into the stream of water going back and forth, back and forth.  Maybe he was having heat stroke or something.  I know one thing though if he thought I was going to invite them over to the pool after looking like a psychopath he really was crazy.  I guess it is true that crazy people don't really know they're crazy?   The next time I got in the pool the woman comes out in her nightgown and robe with a huge peacock feather waving it around in the air.  I can't make this stuff up.  I'm telling you.  I'm thinking, "Yeah I see you and yeah you look like a loon."   After that I started swimming with my snorkel gear.  Can you picture it?   From their vantage point all they could see was my breathing tube going around and around and around.

A few weeks ago my dreams came true and I had a six foot vinyl privacy fence installed.  No more compost pile no more stalkers.  I keep expecting them to drill a peep hole and hear "HEY GIRL!...."

Suffering through Sciatica

I have been suffering through Sciatica for the past 15 months and would try just about anything to get this pain to stop.  I have purchased an inversion table and started hanging upside down.  I can't say it has taken the pain away.  It has seemed to improve my relationship with my pets.  When hanging upside down my cat continually rubs his head up against my head and my dog tries to lick me in the face.  You're supposed to be completely relaxed when you hang upside down.  I feel more like I'm swatting at mosquitos.  I've tried rolling around on a tennis ball and a lacrosse ball.  Again they didn't make the pain go away but my dog would constantly try to get the balls.  Finally, I decided to buy a rowing machine.  I figured less weight on my body, less strain on my spine, less pain in my leg.  Seemed like a good idea to me.  I purchased my rowing machine, had it delivered and my dog proceeded to help me tear open the box.  My Mom was stopping by my house that night and I told her "come downstairs to check out my rower."  She walked into the room and said, "Where is it?"  My Mother is 68.  No dementia or anything.  I'm looking right at the rower and we're standing right in front of it.  I point and say, "That's the rower, right there."  She looks at me and in all seriousness says, "I thought it would look like a boat".  This was the same day I told her she needed to get a DVR so she could pause live TV.  She said, "I don't need a DVR," pointing at the DVD player she got for Christmas in 1994, "I can watch DVDs right there.  There's nothing wrong with my pause button."  

 

 

Bubba's, Boats, and Bumps along the Way

 

 

Sometimes I am forced to go places I would never choose to go to on my own. I guess you would call it a hazard of the job. This week I've been in the Catskills. I'm about 40 minutes from civilization staying at a broken down version of Dirty Dancing. For lack of anything better to do, I made my way to a place called Bubba's last night for dinner. My table was in a large sandbox on the banks of White Lake. The food was fried to a crisp and the bar game involved a ring tied to a string that you have to swing onto a hook. Drunk Ryan who kept singing, "I'm getting further from my beer" hooked the ring on the third try. I couldn't hook the thing to save my life. Guess the beer is a requirement at a place called Bubba's. Since I couldn't hook the ring, Drunk Ryan decided to give us a free ride on a pontoon boat. 10 minutes later we were stranded in the dark floating away from the dock with a flooded engine. At least we got to go out on the lake. If it weren't for the bugs, the smell (Drunk Ryan and the gas)and the thought of jumping into 30 feet of pitch black water, we might have called it a party. We were rescued by a jet ski and Drunk Ryan returned to his beer. We headed back to Dirty Dancing part two. Today we found out that some of us wouldn't be able to stay at our hotel for the entire duration of our trip. The word Motel was brought up as an alternative. Just for clarification, if anyone ever tries to convince you to stay in a motel, flatly refuse. In my world, Hotels are for people who live in houses and motels are for people who live in their cars. Sounds logical to me. Especially when the motel boasts that turkeys are the local wild life and you might get to see a bald eagle if you are lucky. Well, the bald eagle made me feel patriotic and lead me to the fireworks display back at Dirty Dancing. We kept hearing from the locals about how great they would be. We went to dinner late and were worried we wouldn't find a spot. No worries were necessary. Parking spots were available, chairs were plentiful and real estate for the show was wide open. As we waited a man handed out lyrics to God Bless America and informed us that we would be singing after the finale. The fireworks started. While watching the show, one word came to mind. Recession. This must have been an example of fireworks on a budget. No music, no cotton candy, no glow necklaces. Just one firework at a time. I guess they were trying to spread them out. We kept looking at each other saying, "Was that it?". When the finale finally came, the people were so far apart from each other that anyone who actually did sing sounded like a soloist. Each day keeps getting better and better.

Kids today in public

I'm out of town for work again and I've been spending all my meal time in restaurants.  I'm not a kid hater or anything, but maybe I'm a parent hater.  Parents just seem to not have control of their kids anymore.  When I was a kid, if I was loud and obnoxious in public my mother would have let me have it.  I can remember a rather explosive episode in a PX where I was convinced that my mother should have to buy me the pair of shoes I wanted because (stomping my four year old feet up and down) "YOU'RE MY MOTHER! YOU HAVE TO BUY ME THESE SHOES!"  My mother was always good at not showing her temper in public, but I think she wasn't pleased by my tirade and spanked me on my rump.  She still talks about the full bird Colonel who was standing nearby who said, "Hit her again Mom!"  Aww, the good old days. 

Now kids are in control.  They rule the roost.  They drive their parents crazy who in turn drive us crazy.  The other night at dinner a toddler who in his defense was probably really tired from being carted around all day and finally being fed around 8PM, was having a fit.  He was loudly screaming and howling.  Ok.  I can take a little fit or a medium fit, but a constant 20 minutes of screaming can start to get on your nerves.  As an adult I couldn't stand and scream for 20 minutes in the restaurant, but I get it.  He's was a kid... I'm an adult.  I almost lost it though when the Mother started to get louder and louder saying "I MEAN IT.  SHUT UP.  NOT ANOTHER WORD.  SERIOUSLY.  I MEAN IT." Like I said.  I think I'm a parent hater.