Parallel Play

It’s been a while, but even so, when I sat down at the computer to write I looked for ways to put off the real work:
*Shredded some junk mail.  Top three pieces of crap regularly received:  1.  credit card apps, 2.  solicitations to buy Medicare supplement health insurance, and 3.  letters begging for donations from not-for-profits.  It strikes me as ironic that in return for once giving an outfit some money, they forever bug you for more.
*Dusted and tidied up the desk.
*Checked the blog stats.  Noticed a direct correlation between posts written and number of views.  As amazing as it may sound, it turns out that if I don’t write, people don’t read.
*Flipped the calendar page to November and added up the dots.  There are 119 to date, so at 40 miles for each “morning 40” that’s 4760 miles on the bike so far this year.
*Got hungry after all that and went down stairs for a bowl of cereal.
*Stared out the window for a while.  Noticed that when it’s very still and a light breeze causes the leaves to fall, you can actually hear them clattering to the ground through the trees.

Old Business
Remember that PSA I made recently about Paul’s Pastries?  I for one took that announcement to heart.  What started as trips to Burlington (25 mi away) to go to Tractor Supply (with  side trip to Paul’s) has now turned into trips to Paul’s, and to hell with Tractor Supply.  By golly those donuts are good.  Overheard while eating my (first) donut was the following.  Two guys standing at the counter and one guy said to the other, “See them double, chocolate chunk cookies there?  Oh Lord, those things’ll put a major hurt on ya!”  I may have to pick up a half-dozen of those next time.  By the way, I justify these new “donut runs” to Burlington by filling the tank with gas over there, where gas is generally cheaper.  Recently the price gap has narrowed though, so I’m going to have to start throwing some 5 gallon gas cans in the trunk.  Or, I guess to keep the per donut price down I could just eat more donuts, hmmmm.

New Business
Halloween has come and gone.  As I walked by the pile of pumpkins in front of the grocery store I had an idea.  I bought one, The Princess was kind enough to do the art work on it, and then I carved it.  Smells are such a memory trigger, but as I cut into that pumpkin and pulled the top off, boy, the smell of Halloween’s past seeped out.  My best costume was worn to the Halloween party at the Lutheran school when I was in fourth grade.  I painted a cardboard box silver, covered it with all kinds of junk, cut arm holes in it and went as a robot.  It got to be a long evening though as everybody and his cousin kept banging on the outside of the box with me inside peering through little eye holes.  In later years it wasn’t so much about costumes as hijinks, and well, let’s just say thank goodness the statute of limitations has run on that stuff.  Anyway, here are a couple of shots of this year’s pumpkin.

Moving on.  How many of you are Facebook members, or members of Linked In?  The Princess, Andy and I were talking about these “social media” sites earlier this week.  Bottom line, we couldn’t really explain the point of them.  I mean, we know what they are, but the question is, why should we care?  Facebook is a way of sharing personal information with people, and LinkedIn is for sharing occupational information with others in the working world.  One problem with these “services,” using that term lightly, is that to find anything out about anyone else, you have to join, and tell something about yourself.  I’m from Minnesota, and I can tell you, Minnesotans aren’t very “sharing” people.  I’ll bet, that the lowest percentage, by state, of people participating in these services is Minnesota’s.  Minnesotan’s are cold, both literally and figuratively.  We’re not outgoing, we’ll shake hands, but we’re not big on hugging.  In spite of all this, as more and more emails piled up in my inbox saying that so and so wanted to “link-up” with me, I thought what the hell, I’ll join-up and see what this is all about.

Well, it’s crazy.  It’s like a e-chain letter.  Once you’re in, the problem grows geometrically.  I’m getting more and more emails about people who know people I know, people who know those people, and people who know those…well you get the picture.  Where’s it all end?  I’ll tell you where.  I’ve seen a couple of news articles recently where some person, after getting his or her “15 minutes of infamy,” exits this world, or is thrown in “the pokey,” and for lack of any other information, the news reporter goes to the person’s Facebook or LinkedIn profile and that, at least for a while, is that person.  Great, so after the police subdue me in Krispie Kreme, because I went crazy after some guy cut in front of me in line (could happen), the news item will say that “his LinkedIn profile described him as writer and editor of something called That Idiotic Tractor.”  Hmmm, might be good for my readership stats.

Pony News
The fenders are done.  I’d like to do a slide show, but lately these haven’t been working for my email customers, so I’ll do some thumbnails.  Be sure to click on them if you want to see larger images.

Thanks to Lynne for that last shot.  That mirror finish (see third to last photo) results from taking the painted finish through wet sanding with 400, 600, 1500 and 2000 grit sand paper, then rubbing compound, and finally carnuba wax.  I didn’t have much upper body development before all that rubbing, but you oughta see me now!  Many thanks go to Jim for his great body work.  He gave me great surfaces to work with.

Today Gene and I were working in the garage.  He was over on one side working on his own project, and I was doing some finish work on a back wheel when Lynne stepped into the garage.  To appreciate this I have to remind you that Lynne is an education professional.  Anyway, she looked at the two of us, each busy in our own little worlds, and she said, “Oh, isn’t this cute, “parallel play.”  I said, “Well, that may be, but it’s really just two old guys farting around.”

Have a great week everyone.  Thanks for reading.


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