Life

Voting On Primary Day

I haven’t voted on “election day” in quite a few years. Sometimes, there is nothing on the ballot to even vote on. Well, this year being an even numbered year, Texas re-elects everything but President and one of our Senators. (I put myself somewhere between President Obama and Senator Ted Cruz politically. I recognize the two extremes, but it won’t take much work to figure out which one I am closer to.)

As I voted today, I voted early for the first time at the library. (At the other early voting place, they are pretty sedate. Before I even signed in today, I was warned to watch what I say to “these guys”. Normally, I would have rubbed my hands together in anticipation. But, with the need to be so careful what you say when voting, I felt a little paranoid. They realized my apprehension and made jokes about knitting and drinking too much coffee.) As I put my code in and pulled the ballot up, I was all good on the first few candidates. Out of the first 10, I had a cheat sheet covering 8 of them. Once I got past the “big” candidates, my cheat sheet lost its effectiveness. (I tried to do some Google searches to find all of the candidates I would find on my ballot, but the list was not easily available.) When struck with this predicament, I fell back on my most basic rule:

If they are of my political persuasion (its a primary election, so my respective ballot mostly met this description) and I don’t know anything about them, I will vote for the woman or the person with the “non-white” sounding name. (i.e. a minority)

There are too many white men in politics! I believe my party (and the other one as well) would benefit by having a less stereotypical politician. Our demographics show we are becoming less white, so I used my finger to make the voting booth dial more minority friendly. I realize my little voting game has losers. I also realize the whole country wins if my politicians in Washington have more mascots of many different minority groups.

The “Custom” Option

I was a little disappointed as I tried to use the great new Facebook feature. (Google+ plus also provides a choice other than male/female, but it offers fewer additional options.) Previously, I apparently found no need to display my gender. I attempted to get this set up this morning. And, it was a little frustrating!

After choosing “Custom”, I wanted to put something that was not entirely “gender” related, but it was something I wanted others to know about me. (I am definitely a male, but I thought I could use this feature to better describe who I am. That is what most of the “custom” people use it for, right?) I attempted to make my own choice of custom gender, but these are some of the choices I was given:

Who knew there were so many options? I don’t think God made this many. And, if I wanted to choose a gender of “Forgiven” or “Sinner” it is as descriptive as those available options. Is it possible that by obscuring our gender(our similarities) and trying to over-emphasize our differences, we become less of a country “United” and are becoming more of a country “Divided”. Certainly, this is not a political issue, but we know it is…..:-(

Ear Plugs Over The Years

When I was a wee lad (translated, this would mean about 30 years younger), I was never one to crank up my stereo (now kids use Ipods and buds so we really don’t know how much volume they need or use) to find out if certain songs/albums at certain volumes created some special synapse that would forever make me better than others. I mostly avoided those teenage vices and a few others as well. But, in the spirit of avoiding the whole, “I don’t like that.” response when asked to do or go somewhere, I eventually yielded and went to a rock concert. (I went to a few including Rush a couple times and a mix of others as well.) This first real concert was at the Ohio Center in Columbus, Ohio. Nazareth was the opening act and Billy Squier was the headliner. Yes, this is where the ear plugs enter into the picture…..I popped my ear plugs in before things got going. I had heard enough people say how their heads rang and how they couldn’t hear so well for a while. They weren’t stylish ear plugs, but they did the job. (I am quite sure they were less obvious then ear phones worn to keep out noise while mowing the lawn, but I did not have the luxury or desire to criticize the discreteness of the plugs while at the show.) Possibly, it was this effort in my youth that has caused my need for ear plugs in the present.

Now that I am a few years older, ear plugs have a different purpose–making sleep easier. (The exception is the Rush concert I went to recently with my oldest son. I had fluorescent green ear plugs and didn’t care what anyone thought. Cool was not even a consideration. I wanted it to be obvious I was NOT trying to be cool.) I have used them occasionally for sleeping in the past. Over the last couple years, they have become indispensable. Why do I need them for sleeping? Here are my two theories:

Active Brain: I am sure this is a part of old age. I used to be able to lay down and sleep without too much consideration. With adulthood and the possible paranoia that accompanies age(maybe not really paranoia—protective instinct?), night time noises are a springboard for my brain. Some noises are understandable–the family room is on the same floor as our bedroom. If the teenage sons choose to watch TV/Netflix late, the ear plugs help to dull the noise. When it is not the TV, it is a creak in the house OR a dog or police car outside OR rain splattering all over the place. My brain just doesn’t want to let go of wakefulness without having the noise reduced to almost nothing. As witnessed today, the disadvantage to wearing ear plugs is sometimes the wake-up alarm does not clear the necessary noise threshold to be effective.
Roommate: Strictly speaking, I have no idea if my wife snores. By wearing ear plugs, I don’t have to deal with this reality. It allows her to keep her secret. Since my wife doesn’t wear ear plugs, I do sometimes get reports in the morning regarding my own snoring habits. Since it is more manly to snore, I am okay with that.

Bored Daughter and Imagination

My daughter sometimes has the need to be entertained. When her best bud/sister is not around, she has to seek out people to help her get entertained. Today, her father was volunteered to get injured.

I volunteered my hairy left arm. Hairy arms seems to me be more challenging then smooth surfaces. It took a bit of work. (The process involves a tissue as the “wound”. A mixture of Vaseline and red die was spread over the tissue. Once the tissue was moistened with the Vaseline, the wound was formed. Cocoa powder was sprinkled on the wound and worked in to darken the “blood”.) She went after with great enthusiasm. In fact, she enjoyed it so much, she went on to create an injury on her shin.

Getting Old (PG Version)

This is the year. No, not just any year. This is the year I hit the half century mark. I don’t feel it. Not having lived in anyone else s body before, it seems to feel about right. I will try and note what is different than it was 30 years ago (or 20, but maybe not 5):

Bifocals: Most days I almost don’t notice the switch I made to these special lenses. Did I say “Bi-focals”? I meant “Tri-focals”. I don’t wear contacts; I only wear the lenses. Most times the eyes feel like the eyes of a few decades ago. A recent book I was reading on the kindle has VERY small print. If reading in bed, I had to lean up and tilt my head back to get the right part of the lenses on the text. “The” special lenses are a little humbling. As aging goes, I don’t have any other optic concerns.
Bathroom visits: Fortunately, I don’t have many sleeping problems. (One will be noted shortly.) Unless you count me enjoying a big glass of tea after 6:00. If I do this, sleeping isn’t the problem, but sleeping the whole night is not likely to be unlikely. Around 2:00 I wander into the bathroom. If I am lucky, my brain never woke up. If I am unlucky (and the more likely), my brain has a series of random thoughts fro 30 minutes or so. (Random thoughts means there is brain activity–a good thing. AND, something that has been taking place in this declining body for all of the nearly 5 decades I have been neglecting it. Should I be doing daily brain exercises as I age or does bantering with the kids count?)
Spices: It just doesn’t sit as easily as it used to sit. If it is too spicy, all parts of my digestive tract are likely to voice their individual displeasure. I sometimes think, “I shouldn’t was these peppers that come with our fajitas.” A couple hours afterward, I realize wasting was the MUCH smarter choice.
Caffeine: I used to be able to have a few cups of coffee in the morning. The only downside was the taste quality deteriorated as I hit cup 3. Recently, I have found having 2 cups of coffee puts me MUCH more on edge. I am ready to leap through the phone with no explanation beyond being over-caffeine-stimulated. So, if I consider doing 2 cups on any given day, I need to put an hour or more between them. Sniff, Sniff. At least, tea seems to treat an almost “old” person with more respect!
Ear plugs: This has been a phenomenon of the past couple of years. With very few exceptions (one of those absolute exhaustion), ear plugs keep me brain from being excessively active. Not that I sleep in a bed with anyone who ever snores, but if I did, having something to mute the sound would certainly be a good thing. The obvious answer is as I have aged my brain has become a more efficient machine that sees sleep as just a luxury for the young and mentally deficient. Regardless, I prefer to indulge in regular sleep to try and keep this bag of bones operating long enough to allow time for the grey matter to work out its deep and world-changing thoughts.
Cracking joints: They always cracked some
Vitamins: Have taken them nearly all of my life. Now, they have titles like “50 plus” or mention helping with “male menopause” (or would it just be womenopause?). They have things to combat joint issues, prostate issues, and all of the issues that I didn’t want to think about when I was much younger.
Ears: I have not checked my ear lobes, but I have read they lengthen as we age. My ears now need shaved/plucked quite frequently. I am really not a fan of the part of the program. However, it is nothing a quick glance in the mirror and a couple of strong fingers can’t fix.

Knuckle Injuries

Trying to be a good husband last weekend, I committing to moving some plants and planting some new plants in the flower bed. While executing the plan, I neglected to plan for the injuries that so often accompany these landscaping moments.

The knuckle on the middle finger was created while using a pick to try and take out a very large root from our now non-existent magnolia tree. While lifting up the pick handle, my finger, although wearing a glove, became wedged between the handle and a barely visible sprinkler head. The other injury (on the top knuckle of the pointer finger on the same hand) was caused when I grabbed a tool out of the tool rack. This finger was slit by a sharp edge of one of the other tools. The “how” of the injuries is not really important. It is the challenge of living with injured knuckles until they heal that is the real point.

These are the things injured knuckles have made more difficult:

Tucking in clothes: Most people don’t tuck anymore, but I still do. So, it can be a knuckle-bumping opportunity.
Hand washing: The washing is not ALL bad. The soap may burn a little. It is the drying that is the worst. The knuckles tend to get a little abuse during the drying process. And, being a little nutty about germs, does cause frequent washings.
Flossing: My flossing technique has me wrapping the string around my top knuckles of both pointer fingers. While doing the “flossing” thing, the injury does get irritated. I am a big boy and can handle it. Finger injuries are just not forgotten while they heal.
Tying shoes: Again, fingers can be swapped while the knots are being made. Until the knuckles are healed, I am reminded many times during the day that my fingers are VERY valuable.
Digging into front pockets: I have to be careful here so I don’t dig into my pocket with the knuckles unprotected. If I dig in with the knuckles “tucked in”, they don’t rub against the inside of the pocket. If I don’t tuck, the scab is scraped off leaving a trickle of blood coming from the re-injured area.
Going outside when it is cold and your knuckles dry out: This happened just this morning. Even with gloves on, my knuckles bled. They were so dry a small amount of blood trailed off in the knuckle wrinkles.
Buckling seatbelts: It will hurt more depending on which hand the knuckle injury is on. In my case, OWWWWWWW!!!!

Do I mean to whine? I am trying to do a sub-par Andy Rooney impression? No, I am just doing a brain dump and capturing a few thoughts. I appreciate you reading. I will try to do better next time!

Leftover Breakfast

The satisfaction of cleaning out the cupboard

The kids know I am VERY big on getting rid of leftovers. This is normally a topic that comes up around dinner time. (If it is around the holidays, mom may have made a breakfast casserole that would also fall into the “leftover” category.) In fact, I often announce the night before tomorrows dinner will be leftovers. (This is sometimes determined by the number of plastic containers full of food in the fridges [there is a preferred leftover fridge and shelf in the fridge] or by the kids schedule and my ability or inability to prepare something of value.) During the summer time, I will often offer bribes of Yogurtville or picnics to entice the pool-dwellers to stretch a little extra as they make their dining choices. (Are you sure you want that? If you take a couple scoops of this we can finish it up entirely. Or, similar things a coach might say to his athletes to try and squeeze the maximum performance out of them or their appetites.)

No such excitement occurred today. (However, last night it was announced it would be warmups for supper because their was a High School away soccer game.) Due to the girls needing to get to school early (Rachel is on the scholarship team and had to go over her math problems), I needed to pull together breakfast quickly. And, cold cereal is often the choice of quick breakfast choosers. (I am not a fan of pop tarts. If I was, they would win both the quick and transportable award.)

My viewing of the cereal cupboard convinced me it would not be a normal breakfast. I knew 2 of the 3 open boxes were in the orphan category. (Where there is so little left and what is left is mostly crumbs or in the case of frosted flakes, it is was sugar.) After dumping a half cup or less of the raisin bran and frosted flakes, my bowl still looked very lonely and lean. My daughter volunteered the box of Lucky Charms. Not being particular partial to Lucky Charms (likely some residual belief from child hood. My mother could easily have told me once that marshmallows in your cereal gives you acne or some such thing. Whatever the story, I have not eaten marshmallows for breakfast in decades.) The addition of the Lucky Charms seemed to make the bowl “about right”. Once the milk was added and the “floating rules” were all applied, it looked like I was eating Lucky Charms with occasional variety in flavors.

Would I do it again? Oh, sure. I could choose it, but if it chooses me (or my OCD that demands the consumption of leftovers demands to be heard) I would fill the bowl. My spoon and I would enjoy another adventure.

Proactive Coke Rewards

Today’s outing (No, I didn’t drink all of these. It is recycle day, and I was going through everyones bins to collect the points. I do have some pride–I won’t dig too deep or dig down too many layers if the bins are stacked) consisted of 4 large cases, 10 small cases, & 9 lids. It almost cost me a set of keys (they fell out of my jacket pocket while I was scrounging).

What are Coke Rewards worth? Besides my wife’s undying gratitude, they buy her free Shutterfly albums. With the nearly 200 points accumulated today, a large dent was put in the next album.

Happy wife – happy life!

The Guy I Met At Jeff’s Physical Therapy

I met a very nice guy at Jeff’s physical therapy session today. (Really his only session. His wrist was doing fine, so they were just doing exercises to make sure it is gaining on the left hand.) Definitely not an intimidating guy. He used his wheeled walked and starting coming my direction, so I cleared the chair so he could sit down. He had a pocket on his walker with a few papers in it. It was cushioned to keep him from banging any of his aching appendages.

Our dialogue went something like this…

“What are you in for?”
“Bad knee.”
“The one God gave you or a replacement.”
“The original one.”
“That’s good”. (Me)
“Yes, I have some water on my knee. And, it needs to be trained and then some PT.”

He then goes on to tell me he has been married nearly 67 years. That he has been retired since 1987, and he used to be a engineer on the Santa Fe railroad. His great grand daughter (2 daughters, 6 grandkids, 8 great-grand kids) is a trainer for the Trinity football team–they are in the 3rd week of the football playoffs. And, he is a WWII veteran of the South Pacific. Before we are to far in the conversation, he handed me a religious tract. I was not offended that he handed me the tract, nor would I have been if I wasn’t a Christian. If all members of our society could discretely make others aware of their values without worrying about offending them, life would be easier and we would start to be more tolerant as a society. Right now, it seems the thin-skinned sissies are making the rest of us feel like we are horrible people because we have an opinion that differs from theirs! I may be a horrible person, but it is not because of my opinions. 😉

The Saga of the Dented Car

What has proceeded on Facebook…..

Andy Gruenbaum wonders if there is a nice way to ask your neighbor, “Did you back out of your driveway and hit our car and drive off?” He doesn’t have any good angles on this one…..

Ugh! Yea, good luck with that!
I would say; “Hey I don’t think you noticed but you hit my car on our way out the other day”
Andy Gruenbaum Unfortunately, he is of a different race than us. I try and be extra sensitive when being confrontational. It is just a little “ding” but we can see the white paint in the dent….
I wouldn’t worry about that, I wouldn’t be confrontational either, just mention it nicely and say something like “I wanted to talk to you about this instead of reporting it because I think neighbors can work things like this out since we live right next to each other, and its a small dent which you probably didn’t notice” this way you don’t sound like you’re accusing. They will probably respect that. Are they foreign?

That’s a rough one. I had a patient’s neighbor hit my car. My concern was the man was elderly and did not realize it (I saw it happen, but he was too quick for me to stop him). I was concerned that his awareness was decreased and next time it could be a child. So I went to the door and spoke with the wife. She was very gracious and the man did call and offer to pay the repairs.
Andy Gruenbaum The problem was we noticed at 10:00 the night before we went on a 2.5 week vacation. When we came back, we still saw the dent, but the critical point of contact was past. And, the neighbor hasn’t answered the door when we tried him after returning. And, he is almost never out, so the “easy” answer is not so easy….

Andy Gruenbaum The neighbor is a unemployed, black man from California who hates Texas. He has no kids, but his present wife has 4 daughters that visit way to much(in his opinion). AND, his mother-in-law lives with them and suffers from dementia. He is generally not a happy man, although, I have tried to befriend him. So, he may just be content to avoid us and not deal with the issue.
Isn’t your wife a lawyer?
Is the dent really a big enough deal to even worry about it? Maybe its better to forget if there is a posibility of a worse situation?
Many of California drivers don’t know how to drive…… not including me though It is good to notice them as to avoid the second chance…..
Judy Clausing Gruenbaum yes, the dent is pretty big.
Andy GruenbaumThe neighbor was out today, but the care wasn’t here. Maybe, we can find a way to casually mention it. If we keep our expectations really low, we will probably not be disappointed.
Wow, that’s a big dent! I don’t know what the answer is, but, I really think you’re neighbor owes you an explanation!

Hey Andy. Start out with something like, “Can you believe what someone did to our car?” Then “I can’t believe they left the scene” “Good thing is we turned the video over to the police but they said it would be a couple days before they could review it…See More
Try this. Call the police, indicate when it happened for the record, file a report, and ask their advise. I know the answer will be avoid the incident. Call insurance, and note a hit and run. Should be comprehensive coverage and not your incident for your deductible. If you have to pay your deductible, say $500, find a way to distribute $500 worth of, I don’t know, pea gravel, in the neighbor’s yard.
Andy GruenbaumI don’t think I mentioned his house was for sale before. If possible, I believe this would make our car dent an even lesser priority than before….
So, steal the sign tonight, and keep stealing it until he comes over and confesses. If he catches you, just tell him you are trying to “make sure the house does not sell before he gets a chance to tell you about the fender bender”.
July 26th: I am working on cutting some carbon filter orders (sell them on my eBay store) when there is a pounding on the door. It is the neighbor. She wants me to move our car out of the street. She has sold her “Skeedo” (snowmobile for water or whatever they are). It is on a trailer and when it is picked up she does not want them to hit our car. Ahhh…sweet of her.

July 28th

This is the moving van they were using Sunday morning. It made the street pretty crowded and my wife didn’t want to park in the street for fear there would be some sort of deja vu experience.

July 29th: The last time I saw the neighbor with a U-haul it had a picture from Ohio with the serpent mounds. (The one from Sunday was from Delaware) I saw it parked near the boys school. I thought maybe the neighbor was moving into some apartments a couple miles south of us.

July 30th: Spoke to the neighbor today. (If he were wise he would have put his big pile of garbage/non-moving items out last night so the trolls could go through them) They are moving out on Friday. The new house is somewhere in Keller right next to a golf course. And, he REALLY hates home owner associations. (HOAs) He said they are moving into a furnished long-term stay type place for a couple of weeks BEFORE they move into their new house. I chose not to mention the dent in the car. We were bonding so well, and I didn’t want to ruin it. And, once you are beyond the 1 month window, it is hard to be in the mood to “nail” him. The dent is there, and we will get it fixed eventually. If I see the neighbor again around town again, we can wave at each other and be cordial….while I grit my teeth. 😉

Winter 2014: We got the dent fixed while getting some other winter damage fixed.

Walking Down Life's Road With Andy