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Two and a Half Christmas Trees

15 Dec

Last night, we strung the lights on our Christmas Tree. Wait, I should say that we strung the lights on our third Christmas Tree. There is a Christmas Tree in my stepdaughter’s room and another Christmas Tree in a back room. The Christmas Tree that is half completed can be seen from the road, which means that it bookends the house along with the one in my stepdaughter’s room. It also means that we have two and a half completed Christmas Trees.img_2189

The unfinished Christmas Tree is a live tree. Well, it is as alive as a cut tree can be. My wife decided that she wanted a live tree because we have not had one in a few years. Of course, we have not had one in a few years because the last live tree kept falling over. I will never forget the night that we were sitting by the fireplace, and I noticed movement. I jumped up in time to catch the fully decorated tree before it hit the ground. As I held it, my wife crawled underneath to stabilize it.

As I said, I never forgot. However, my wife must have because she wanted another live tree. She also wanted to flock the tree. I must admit that it is pretty, but I cannot shake the feeling that fake snow on a live tree is kind of weird.

I never thought I would have three Christmas Trees at one time. During my single life, I went years without one. One year, a friend bought a Charlie Brown Christmas Tree and gave it to me as a joke. It is basically a stick with one red ball for a Christmas ornament. I used to set it on the counter. I guess I could put it up and have four Christmas Trees. Other people may not count it, but I do. It was my Christmas Tree for several years.

At times, I think Christmas decorations are a pain. Put them up. Take them down. However, I would rather have my current life with three Christmas Trees than my old life with no Christmas Trees. Actually, my old life with one Charlie Brown Christmas Tree.

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Birthdays Are For Doing Things You Like

25 Nov

To the left of the title is a circle that says November 25. That date happens to be my birthday. Every year, I have tried to put together a post on my birthday that chronicles some of the important things that have happened on that date. Here is a good example.

On November 25, 1975, Suriname gained its independence from the Netherlands.

However, this post is not about things that have happened on November 25. In fact, I do not know what it is about. I only know that typing on November 25 has become a tradition.

I could include a photograph. I think I will pick this one.image-43

Does anyone know where that is?

I did not pick that one because of some great connection to my birthday. I picked it because I like it. That could be what birthdays are all about. Those are days when people should be able to do things that they like.

I like a lot of stuff, but, most importantly, I like my life. That is why tomorrow will be spent doing regular things. Every day is a great day, and my birthday should be no different.

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The Problem With Dunkin’ Donuts

19 Nov

There is a Dunkin’ Donuts down the road, and my stepdaughter likes to stop on the way to school. I am happy to do that because she likes it, but I have some issues with the restaurant. The title of this post proclaims that there is a problem with Dunkin’ Donuts. That should actually be plural.

First, it is a breakfast place, but it constantly runs out of breakfast food. Order a bagel, and they are out of that bagel. Order a donut, and they are out of that kind of donut. I do not understand how a breakfast food place could constantly run out of breakfast food. Stock up on bagels. Make plenty of donuts. It is the job of the restaurant to have the stuff available. After all, it is called Dunkin’ Donuts. It is not call Dunkin’ What We Do Not Have.dunkin

Second, people order dozens of donuts. I understand why they do it. It is their day to supply donuts for the office. They may be having a meeting and want to sugar everyone up. However, here is the thing. Each donut does not have to be different. Instead of getting one of each flavor, they should get a dozen of plain and a dozen of chocolate covered. Whenever I see a box of assorted donuts, the plain and chocolate covered ones are always gone. Just stick to the basics and get the stuff ordered.

Third, they do not have change. The other day, I pulled up to the window to pay a $9 tab. I handed the lady a $50, and she said that she did not have change. I asked, “You do not have two twenties?” Then, I asked, “You do not have four tens?” That is when she said that they were not allowed to take something bigger than a $20 until after 11:00.

Here is my message to Dunkin’ Donuts. You are a breakfast place. More people do business with you before 11:00 than after 11:00. The morning is when you need to be able to make change. I know we are moving to a plastic world, but some of us still like to use cash. I cannot imagine a restaurant not having two $20 somewhere.

Again, you are a breakfast place. That means you should be ready in the morning with plenty of bagels and donuts. It also means that you should have plenty of money. At no time have I ever heard anyone say, “Let’s have lunch at Dunkin’ Donuts. It is the middle of the day, and they have plenty of bagels, donuts and change.”

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From Dancing With the Stars to Highlander

28 Sep

A glass of Pappy Van Winkle is sitting by my computer. Dancing With the Stars is on in the background. Is it any wonder that politics has taken the form of a reality show? We have been watching reality shows for over two decades.

The breakfast room table is covered with things that have nothing to do with breakfast. There are two laptops, including the one that I am using. There is a bottle of Ranch dressing. I guess that could be used for breakfast if you are into that sort of thing.

My stepdaughter and I went to a bookstore this afternoon. I always find comfort in a bookstore even when I cannot find a book. We have to drive to the next town to go to a bookstore. That is one of the things I want to fix about our town. Every town should have a good bookstore even at a time when bookstores are being killed off by this Internet thing that you are reading.

I am trying to think of what cannot be bought on the Internet. Is there anything that cannot be bought on the Internet?campus

This year, Cumberland University, where I teach, reached record enrollment. We are in our 175th year and have a rich history. However, 2016 may be the best year ever. That is pretty good when your alumni includes Cordell Hull, Father of the United Nations, and two Justices of the United States Supreme Court. It is a good reason to celebrate with a glass of Pappy Van Winkle.

Some people think you can buy a college education on the Internet. It is a fad that has made a lot of money for a lot of universities. However, it is a plan that I believe is not educationally effective. I could be old-fashioned, but I am a History teacher. There are times when old-fashioned is the better way.

I guess that is all I have to say. I will finish with a quote from the Kurgan in Highlander.

“It’s better to burn out than to fade away.”

 

 

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The Problem With Gas Pumps – Revisited

29 Aug

In the early days of this blog, I wrote a post about gas pumps and how they think humans are stupid. Now that I think about it, I may have started this blog specifically to write that post. For a long time, that one post brought people to this site, and it still leads as the most read thing that I have written. To understand this post, I encourage you to read “The Problem With Gas Pumps.”

I was hoping that the years would bring gas pumps that thought more highly of us, but, alas, that has not happened. My regular gas station just installed new pumps that are slick. You can even watch television while standing under the bright neon lights. Unfortunately, they have not learned anything about the intelligence of people.

When you get to the pump, this is the first screen that you see.image-50

That is easy enough. I am using a credit card, so I hit the button that says “Pay Here with Credit.” Now, the pump knows my intentions. That is when the next screen pops up. It says “Insert Credit Card.”image-51

That makes sense. I told the gas pump that I was using a credit card. Now, it wants my credit card. I put the credit card in the slot.

Now, this screen pops up.image-52

Wait a minute. It is asking “Debit Y/N.” Why is it asking this question? I already told the gas pump that I am using a credit card. I inserted the credit card. Now, it is asking if it is a credit card. Do people go through the credit card process only to insert a debit card? Does it happen enough that the gas pump has to ask this question of everyone?

That is my problem with gas pumps. They think humans are too dumb to know the difference between a credit card and a debit card. They think that we would go through that entire process to only use the wrong one. I have a real problem with gas pumps thinking we are that dumb.

I have written about this before, and I will probably write about it again.

 

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Stoned

13 Jul

Blarney Stone

Sharon Stone

Stony Brook University

Stony Brook

Fred Flintstone

Stone Cold Steve Austin

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

Harry Potter

Emma Stone

Stone Mountain

“Stoned Cold Picnic” by The 5th Dimension

5th Dimension

The Rolling Stones

The Sword in the Stone

The Stone Pony

Stone Pony

Stonehenge

Linda Ronstadt and the Stone Poneys

“Like a Rolling Stone” by Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan Stone

“Would You Lay With Me (In a Field of Stone)” by David Allan Coe

Cold Stone Creamery

Alicia Silverstone

Alicia Silverstone

Stone Temple Pilots

Birth Stone

Gemstone

Gemstone

Stone Phillips

Sly and the Family Stone

The Rosetta Stone

Rosetta Stone

Oliver Stone

Philosopher’s Stone

Kidney Stone (unfortunately)

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Looking Back at the House, Looking Forward to the Home

8 Jun

Last week, we moved out of our house, and, yesterday, we closed on the sale. Before everything was complete, we went back into the house to make sure we did not leave anything and to make sure that all was good for the new owners. I took that opportunity to take a picture of the living room.image-14

At least, it became the living room after we got married. Before that, life in the house was a lot different. The living room was a place to walk through. For most of its existence, the house would not have been considered a home. I would call it a dwelling.

I bought the lot with money that I inherited from my dad’s uncle. I remember that someone else was looking at that parcel. I cannot blame them because I thought it was the best lot in the neighborhood. Luckily, I had an inside track. My brother was developing the neighborhood. He also built the house.

The construction process was tense but not for the reasons that you might imagine. I had been dating someone for quite a while, and she thought, rightfully, that this house meant that we would finally get married. I am sure that it was my fault she thought that. However, I was not ready for that and saw no reason for this house to change things.

Anyway, the building process was a struggle. As it progressed, I felt more and more like I was building a prison. I knew that when it was complete something had to give. What I did not know was that everything would hinge on the shutters.

My girlfriend hated shutters, and I had them put on the house. When she saw them, something snapped inside her mind. We dated for a while longer, but, looking back, I think the shutters were the breaking point. For her, they were the sign that she would never live in that house.

When I moved in, there was no grass, and I did a terrible job taking care of the seeds. That is why the grass never looked all that great. There was also an empty neighborhood because mine was one of the first houses to be finished. For a long time, I lived in a construction zone, and my tires were always going flat with nails.

One of my strongest memories of those early days involves a tragedy. I heard a strange noise outside and walked out of the front door to find that Life Flight had landed in the street. A house was being built, and the man delivering bricks had a stack of bricks fall on him. Life Flight took him to the hospital, but he did not make it. For years, I thought about him whenever I looked at the house across the street.

Being a bachelor, the house did not look like a normal house. In fact, it looked quite like the above picture. There was no furniture in most of the rooms. There was a bed. There was a kitchen table. There was a television. There was no food in the refrigerator.

Not having dining room furniture led to an injury. I left something in the bonus room, which was my favorite room because it brought to mind my apartment, and decided to run upstairs to get it. I ran through the dining room and forgot that there was a low-hanging chandelier. My head hit it, and I was knocked out. I still do not know how long I was on the floor.

After a while, I got furniture and filling the dining room was at the top of my list.

The rest of the years are a blur. There were good times. There were bad times. There were neighbors that I really did not know. I was the weird guy who lived alone and was hardly ever home. I did not like being there and spent a lot of time running the streets of Nashville. Looking back, I think that my dislike of being in the house started with early feeling of building a personal prison.

I could write about the time when the kid next door set the woods behind the house on fire. However, I would rather get to the good stuff.

Three years ago, we got married, and the house became a home. Instead of it being me doing everything I could do not to be there, it was me, my wife, my stepdaughter and our dog. I had a family. I got to know the neighbors. I was no longer the weird guy who lived alone and was hardly ever home.

Now, I am the guy who does not live there. We have moved into the house where I grew up while we build a new house. Actually, we are building a new home.

I inhabited that house for 16 years. However, this is the end of looking back. I hope the new owners make it a great home. As for us, I know we will have a great home.

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The Evolution of a Room

5 May

The building in which I work was built in 2004. Actually, it was a gymnasium built during the New Deal and was remodeled into an academic building in 2004. Therefore, it has some old, and it has some new. It also has a room that has constantly evolved over time. As it happens, that room is directly across from my office door.image-13

In the early days, it was a classroom. In fact, I taught in that room a couple of times. As a classroom, it was a disaster. There were no windows, and it was like going to school in a cave. I do not suffer from claustrophobia, but this room gave me the feeling I was trapped. I cannot imagine how trapped students felt when they had to sit there and learn how properly cite a source. It must have resembled something in the mind of Dante.

We stopped scheduling classes in the room, and someone must have noticed. It was not long before it became a storage room for the bookstore. A massive lock was placed on the door because, as all students know, books are worth their weight in gold. People came in and out with boxes of books, stacks of books and dollies of books. There were times when I could hear people working hard. The sounds of those books being moved around could not be mistaken.

However, there were also times when I could hear people watching television. When the classroom was abandoned, no one thought about taking out the television. We may have been the only campus in the country that had a television in the book storage room.

At some point, someone decided to change how our bookstore operates. Instead of selling books in the same place where we sell t-shirts, caps, hoodies, license plates and other things that have our school’s name and logo, we split that up. Now, we have a spirit shop for that stuff and a bookstore for books. Yep, the room across from my office door became the bookstore.

It is like working in the El Paso train station.

In the first weeks of each semester, people are lined up out the door to buy books. This means they are lined up outside my office door. Of course, bored people standing in a line are going to talk. This means they are talking outside my office door. When there is a long wait, the talking turns into complaining. This means they are complaining outside my office door.

However, that does not compare to when the bookstore is closed. Like all good stores, the hours of operation are posted, but that does not stop people from trying.

Do you realize how many people will stare at a locked door?

Do you realize how many people will pull on a locked door a couple of times just to make sure?

Do you realize how many people think the teacher in the office next to the bookstore is also the receptionist for the bookstore?

I cannot count the number of people who have pulled on the locked door and asked me if the bookstore is closed. Of course, some people ask me if it is open.

I have been thinking about this because the bookstore is now open for book returns. It is the end of the semester, and students want to get some of their money back. As a side note, I have never sold back a book. You never know when you might need it.

The end of the semester does not have the long lines. However, it has people pulling on a locked door and sighing with disgust because the bookstore may not be open at the exact time they decided to show up. What do they expect? Bookstore workers are like book storage room workers. They need time to shut the door and watch television, too.

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Steve Harvey and Me

12 Apr

A few months ago, Steve Harvey made headlines for all of the wrong reasons. As host of the Miss Universe pageant, it was his job to announce the winner, and he announced the wrong person. They put the crown on her head. They put the sash around on her shoulder. She was making her victory walk. Then, Steve Harvey came out and said he had made a mistake.

(Sidenote: I do not know how you can hold a Miss Universe pageant without including the green women from Star Trek. They would win all of the time.)Green Girl

It was a huge mistake that will follow Steve Harvey for the rest of his career.

Tonight, we held the awards banquet for the School of Humanities, Education and the Arts, which we affectionately call SHEA. This meant that it was time to pass out the awards for the best students of History.

This morning, I went to my cohort’s office to confirm what awards I would be presenting. He explained that I would present two awards. I heard what he said, but, apparently, that is not what he really said.

As the day progressed, I prepared for my presentation. I listed the awards and what they signified. I wrote down a few things about the recipients. In other words, I was ready to go.

The first award went smoothly except for the fact that the kid did not show up to receive it. I have often wondered why that happens. If you are honored with an award, then you should make an appearance. After all, they are not Marlon Brando or George C. Scott turning down an Oscar.

The second award also went smoothly. I talked about the award. I talked about the recipient in glowing terms. Then, the award was handed to me, and I saw that it was a different one. I called out the right name, but I tried to give the wrong award to him. He was supposed to get something else.

This meant that my cohort had to ad-lib and announce the wrong award to give to the next student. In other words, it was a mess. Luckily, we were all smooth enough that the audience did not realize what had happened. The only people wise to the situation were me, my cohort, the two students and the lady handed the awards to us. Well, I guess you all know it since I have written to post about the entire thing.

I am just glad that we did not have to go out and rip off their crowns and sashes.

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A Rough Few Days for My Wife

20 Mar

Many months ago, my wife got upset because I blogged about her swimming with dolphins and included a picture of the event. Since then, I have made a point to not include anything embarrassing about her. However, this series of events has to be chronicled.

Besides, she has already put it on Facebook.

On Friday, she called and said that she locked herself out of the house. It was later when I discovered that she ate lunch on the garage steps and was in the midst of eating when someone delivered a package. Of course, she had to explain why she was eating lunch on the garage steps.

Later that afternoon, I had just picked up my stepdaughter and her friend from school when I got another call. This time, I let it go because it was my stepdaughter’s birthday, and I did not want my wife to blurt out something over the speaker that my stepdaughter did not need to hear.

At that point, she called my stepdaughter, who announced that we had to turn around a go to my wife’s shop to get her phone.

Yep, my wife locked herself out of the house and forgot her phone in a few short hours.

We pulled up to the shop, and I waited in the car while my stepdaughter and her friend went inside to get the phone. As I sat in a moment of peace, one of people who works at the shop came out and told me to drive around back.

Apparently, my wife forgot the birthday present when she went home.

Yep, my wife locked herself out of the house; left her phone and forgot my stepdaughter’s birthday present in a few short hours.Pizza

As we looked for the present, one of the workers told me to be quiet because my stepdaughter thought I had gone to Pizza Hut to get the phone. I had no idea why I would be going to Pizza Hut, but that was probably the only excuse they could come up with on short notice.

I put myself and the present into the car and called my wife. I asked her how I was going to hide this box in my car when my stepdaughter and her friend were riding with me. She did not have an answer for that, but she asked me not to forget to stop by Pizza Hut to get her phone.

Yep, my wife locked herself out of the house; left her phone at Pizza Hut and forgot my stepdaughter’s birthday present in a few short hours.

Anyway, I went to Pizza Hut and returned to the store to get the kids. My stepdaughter was not happy that I left them at the store, but I could not tell her what I had been doing. The rest of the night went well. We ate Pizza and birthday cake. We went to the movie. My stepdaughter loved her present, and a bunch of girls spent the night.

The next morning, my wife was getting ready for work when she said something was wrong with the face cream that she was applying. It felt sticky and dry.

Yep, my wife locked herself out of the house; left her phone at Pizza Hut and forgot my stepdaughter’s birthday present in a few short hours. The next morning, she grabbed the wrong tube and put rubbed toothpaste on her face.

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