Thursday, July 12, 2018

Yes, Virginia, there is life outside of blogging

I don't tell you much about my life, which sets me apart from a lot of bloggers. Today, however, I have decided to give you a look at a few recent things and events in my real life, by which I mean what happens when I am not sitting in front of this computer.

It will not be One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich because I am not Aleksandr Solzhenitzyn. Here he is in 1974:

(Photo by Verhoeff, Bert / Anefo, February 1974, in Dutch National Archives, The Hague, Fotocollectie Algemeen Nederlands Persbureau (ANEFO), 1945-1989, Nummer toegang Bestanddeelnummer 927-0019)

He died in 2008 and I didn't, so I couldn't possibly be him he Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn.

Maybe I will just show you some pictures, although I do realize that I run the risk of producing in your minds the effect one reviewer felt after watching the film Last Year At Marienbad: "The film is famous for its enigmatic narrative structure, in which time and space are fluid, with no certainty over what is happening to the characters, what they are remembering, and what they are imagining. Its dreamlike nature has both fascinated and baffled viewers; many have hailed the work as a masterpiece, although others have found it incomprehensible."

I will just have to run that risk. No, I will be helpful and include explanations to alleviate any confusion amongst my readership. I say "amongst" instead of "betweenst" because I am confident there are more than two of you out there.

Let us begin. This will not be a chronological presentation. Here, in no particular order, is my recent life:

-- We went to a place called Ollie's (motto: Good Stuff Cheap) and bought new seat cushions and a new umbrella for our patio.

View 1:

View 2:

View 3:

-- Here are our identical triplets out on a lark. Actually, they are my daughter and two of her teacher colleagues at the Birmingham airport this week on their way to Orlando for the SREB (Southern Regional Education Board) Conference. My daughter will be making one of the many presentations.

-- I got into an altercation with a trash receptacle at our local Burger King and wound up with a boo-boo. Please notice the vintage Benrus watch on my wrist. It belonged to my father-in-law, who died in 1983. It passed into the custody of my brother-in-law, who kept it in a box for 32 years and never wore it. When he died in 2015, his widow gave it to me. I wear it every day.

-- Mrs. RWP and I compare boo-boos. Her thumb is partially out of its socket and she also has some arthritis, so the doctor gave her a shot of cortisone and put her in a wrist brace. My boo-boo was minor, just a little cut, but it bled a lot because I am on a blood thinner and it hurt like the dickens.

-- As a belated Father's Day gift, my two sons took me to the Ferst (not First) Center for the Arts on the campus of Georgia Tech to see a play, Martin Luther On Trial. Satan was the prosecutor, Luther's wife (an ex-nun) defended, and Saint Peter presided over the trial. Witnesses included Adolf Hitler, Saint Paul, Martin Luther King Jr., Sigmund Freud, and Pope Francis. It was excellent. Even Snowbrush would have enjoyed it.

-- On the way to the Ferst Center, we stopped for lunch at It's Greek To Me, a restaurant in Marietta.

-- The 20-year-old son of my son on the right in the photo above is currently in Mumbai, India, for 15 days. I did not feel the need to show you a picture of Mumbai, India, but if you want to see one you can Google it for yourself.

-- A group of us Senior Adults from church made a two-van caravan trip to the Blue Willow Inn in Social Circle, Georgia, for lunch.

-- the Blue Willow Inn in Social Circle, Georgia

-- Lunch (table #1):

-- Lunch (table #2):

-- After lunch at the Blue Willow Inn in Social Circle, Georgia:

Are you bored yet?

Just a few more, and we will be done.

-- Sometimes Mrs. RWP and Abby The Dog watch horse racing on TV:

...and sometimes they watch the National Dog Show:

...even though there are so many other things they could be doing.

-- Three days a week I go to cardiac rehab:

-- I had to get a new pair of glasses.

The lenses get thicker every year.
-- One of my teeth broke in half, so the dentist had to modify my partial to include a second tooth.

Perhaps that is too much information.

Perhaps I have gone a bridge too far (groan).

In spite of the many other activities, sometimes my life seems to consist of this:

Etaoin shrdlu to one and all.

I have to go now. The men in white coats have arrived.


  1. Goodness you lead a busy life. I am amazed you have time to blog.
    Matching boo-boos is perhaps carrying togetherness too far.

  2. Elephant’s Child (Sue), there is no such animal as too much togetherness with the lovely Mrs. RWP. Judging from the vast number of comments this post has received in its first 24 hours of existence, though, perhaps I should have said “betweenst” after all.

  3. "Etaoin shrdlu" puzzled me. I assume that it's Irish Gaelic. Aoin in Scots Gaelic is unite or join I think. I no of no word in Scots Gaelic that starts with an sh.On the other hand it might be Gobbledegook or Urdu. Please enlighten me.

    It was, by the way, an interesting and even entertaining read.

    1. Graham, you’re kidding, right? You and I had an exchange somewhere recently — whether on your blog or my blog I can’t remember — about the presence of etaoin shrdlu in old-time newsrooms. Or am I hallucinating? P.S. - i am glad you found this post both interesting and entertaining!

  4. I'm glad you decided to tell us a bit about your life, but where is the dirt--the affairs, the mental illness, the crimes you served time for and the crimes you got away with, the cats you kicked, the dogs you throttled, the babies you threw from moving cars, the bigamies and the polygamies? Are you working up to these things?

    Meanwhile, I am so sorry for the injuries you have both sustained. Further meanwhile, I would strongly suggest that you make the first photo of Mrs. Plague and Abby into your permanent blog photo instead of that stupid, stupid, stupid photo of a WHITE MUG! You have no idea how many nights I have lain awake trying to figure out why anyone at any time and in any place would choose a white mug to illustrate who he is and what he values. Is it supposed to represent purity? Is it supposed to tell us that you are boring beyond words? Or could it be that you are parroting Jesus when he called the Pharisees a bunch of whitewashed coffee mugs?

    "even Snowbrush"? Perhaps you might have said "especially Snowbrush."

    "The 20-year-old son of my son on the right in the photo above"

    Was this meant as an example of how to frame an apparently simple statement in such a way that the reader can't figure out what in the double-heck you are trying to say, and as a result blames himself for his density? In other words, are you gaslighting all of us, or is it JUST ME? I can't imagine that the fellow on the right (or the fellow on the left) is 20, so I suppose the man on the right is your son, although I would never have known it from the text.

    As for your identical triplets, they have obviously had a great deal of plastic surgery including one or more gender reassignments and either skin bleaching or darkening. I'm glad to see that your kids are keeping up with the times.

    1. As usual, Snowbrush, there’s too much to respond to in your comment, but I’ll give it the old college try. Regarding your first paragraph, I will respond to you the way All Consuming often responds to me: hahahahahaha!

      My white mug is very hurt that you called it stupid, stupid, stupid. It is there to show how small the old Methodist Hymnal is, that’s all. It doesn’t illustrate who I am or what I value. That would really be stupid, stupid, stupid.

      Both of the men with me in the restaurant photo are my sons. Son on the left has sons who are 22 and 20. Son on the right has a son who is 20 who currently is in India. I guess I could have phrased it better.

      The triplets have not had any plastic surgery whatsoever, and I highly resent your suggestion that any of them underwent skin bleaching or darkening. They all still have the skin color and gender assignments they were born with. Okay, so maybe they are not exactly identical.

  5. "Matching boo-boos is perhaps carrying togetherness too far."

    I took it as a lovely example of performance art that was done in slow motion while hundreds of while coffee mugs hurtled overhead.

    1. Snowbrush (continued), it sounds like something out of a Busby Berkeley movie when you put it that way!

    2. A fellow Busby Berkeley fan. Oh the joy!

  6. Why do you insist on this format for your blog? It;s much easier to follow when comments follow each other and I can read the blog without having to go back and forth. Having said that earlier I was obviously having an overthinking moment. Of course now I recognise the nonsense phrase and remember our previous conversation. Age cometh not alone!

  7. Graham, it's not that I'm insisting; I don't know any other way to do it. When I read my blog on my iPhone, the comments I leave in response to someone else's comment appear right under that comment. But when I read my blog on Ye Trusty Old HP Computer, they do not. I am baffled as much as you are.

    I'm glad you recalled the etaoin shrdlu conversation. I thought I was going batty there for a minute.

  8. 'Here are our identical triplets out on a lark' - Hahahahaha. This, and so much more of your post is so sharp and witty, you completely crack me up at times, I think one of our bonds is our similar humour actually. Snow is also very funny, though he's more straightfaced with it.

    I feel for you both with your injured limbs and hope everything heals/pops back in very soon. I've worn a wrist brace a few times myself, it's an odd appliance, but does the job.

    Sending love to you and Mrs Rhymes good sir, excellent post. X

  9. Thank you, All Consuming (Michelle), for your very kind comments!

  10. On the subject of the location of your comments, Bob, if you go to your dashboard and choose 'Setting' then 'Posts, comments and sharing' and then 'Comment location' and set that to 'Embedded' your replies will be immediately after the comment and comments will be wriiten on the main page and not in a separate page.

    1. Thank you, Graham, for that helpful hint concerning something about which I was completely ignorant. Having now made the change you suggested, I hope you will find that all of my replies to comments from this day forward, henceforth and forever, will be of the "embedded" variety. As the Norwegians say, tusen tak, a thousand thanks.

    2. I have thought about doing that, but haven't because of the number of comments that would appear in people's inboxes. To me, this would be a greater evil than my current system of answering as many comments as I can at once.

    3. Snowbrush, I don’t understand your reply; I don’t receive blog comments in my inbox, don’t know how to make them go there, and wouldn’t want to if I did (know how). I moderate all comments and go to the Blogger dashboard, click “comments” and then click “Awaiting moderation” and then click either “publish” or “delete” on individual comments. They don’t get anywhere near my e-mail inbox. Or am I misunderstanding what you mean?

    4. If you comment on someone else's blog, and you specify that you want to receive future responses to the post to which you commented (both those of the blog owner and other people), they go into your mailbox. If you don't specify the same regarding responses to your own blog, you naturally have to log into your blog to read them. Speaking of which, I don't moderate comments, and so far, knock on wood, I NEVER receive problematic responses.