This may seem weird to some people. But we celebrated the Happy Dog's seventh birthday this week. He got an ice cream treat @ the greatest ice cream place in town, Conny's and also got a bath and a haircut.
I think he apprciated it ... even if he didn't exactly know the reason why.
Dogs are often our friends. They cheer us up when we are down and they support us almost all the time. So why not celebrate their big day?
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
All hail the surgeon ... I mean the repairman
Granted, it was not hot by the standards of, say, Las Vegas, where it is over 100 degrees on a daily basis this time of year.
But it was damned muggy the other night here. My wife and I spent a restless night with the windows open hoping to get any kind of breeze going. Eventually, morning came and I was on the phone as soon as possible asking the company that put in our air conditioner last year to get the hell over here and fix it. It had gone out the night before and we couldn't possibly be expected to live in two nights of 70 degree agony.
I was told a guy would come between 1 and 5 p.m. Usually that means they arrive at 4:59 but this time, Jerry showed up at 1:30. He was a big fellow and Pete, the Happy Dog who had turned sour because of no air conditioning, was suspicious of him for a long time. But Jerry won him over and was soon allowed to proceed to cooling down everybody.
It turned out now to be as easy as it sounded. We bought the air conditioning unit a year ago and had hardly used it. I figured it was a freon problem or some such thing. The guy would fill up what was needed and be gone in 20 minutes.
Didn't happen that way. Instead, I could hear him doing a lot of sighing and puzzled grunts as he worked downstairs. In time, he came up to report that a motor of some sort was no longer working in the furnace area. Naturally, this was an item that was probably not covered under warranty. But he would call and check and give me a price. Jerry spent some time in the truck, came back with a small box and headed back downstairs.
More sighs and puzzled grunts were heard. 20 minutes later, he came upstairs again.
"I have good news and bad news for you," he said. "The good news is the motor I told you about is covered under warranty so you won't have to pay $410 for it. The bad news is the end motor also isn't working and that is not covered under warranty. That will cost $465 and I am not sure I even have one in my truck. I haven't replaced one of those in a few months."
Back to the truck he went. 15 minutes later, he emerged with another box. By now, he had entered and left the house so many times that Pete didn't even get up to check him out. The thermostat in the dining room read 80 degrees and the dog wasn't going anywhere any more. It was too damn hot outside and it was too damn hot inside.
Jerry returned to the basement. 10 minutes later, I heard the most wondrous noise - a purring sound that resembled a large cat that had drank a bowl of milk. Pete's ears perked up. The noise went off for a few minutes and then returned.
Fairly soon, Jerry came upstairs to report the happy news the end motor was working just fine. The operation was a success and the doctor seems pleased with the result. I looked at the thermostat. It was down to 79 degrees already. Cooler heads were about to prevail again.
This whole performance only took about two hours overall. But it seemed like an eternity.
We are a country that likes our comfort. I am not a big air conditioner guy when you are a little hot, your spouse is hot and your dog is hot, not having the machine available for your use when needed is damn near an emergency.
Jerry didn't look like the kind of doctor you see on TV. But he performed a surgery that, in its own way, had as much value as many operations you hear about. The results are really noticeable today. It is 90 degrees outside and a nice 73 inside. And I hope Jerry makes somebody else (and their dog) equally happy today.
But it was damned muggy the other night here. My wife and I spent a restless night with the windows open hoping to get any kind of breeze going. Eventually, morning came and I was on the phone as soon as possible asking the company that put in our air conditioner last year to get the hell over here and fix it. It had gone out the night before and we couldn't possibly be expected to live in two nights of 70 degree agony.
I was told a guy would come between 1 and 5 p.m. Usually that means they arrive at 4:59 but this time, Jerry showed up at 1:30. He was a big fellow and Pete, the Happy Dog who had turned sour because of no air conditioning, was suspicious of him for a long time. But Jerry won him over and was soon allowed to proceed to cooling down everybody.
It turned out now to be as easy as it sounded. We bought the air conditioning unit a year ago and had hardly used it. I figured it was a freon problem or some such thing. The guy would fill up what was needed and be gone in 20 minutes.
Didn't happen that way. Instead, I could hear him doing a lot of sighing and puzzled grunts as he worked downstairs. In time, he came up to report that a motor of some sort was no longer working in the furnace area. Naturally, this was an item that was probably not covered under warranty. But he would call and check and give me a price. Jerry spent some time in the truck, came back with a small box and headed back downstairs.
More sighs and puzzled grunts were heard. 20 minutes later, he came upstairs again.
"I have good news and bad news for you," he said. "The good news is the motor I told you about is covered under warranty so you won't have to pay $410 for it. The bad news is the end motor also isn't working and that is not covered under warranty. That will cost $465 and I am not sure I even have one in my truck. I haven't replaced one of those in a few months."
Back to the truck he went. 15 minutes later, he emerged with another box. By now, he had entered and left the house so many times that Pete didn't even get up to check him out. The thermostat in the dining room read 80 degrees and the dog wasn't going anywhere any more. It was too damn hot outside and it was too damn hot inside.
Jerry returned to the basement. 10 minutes later, I heard the most wondrous noise - a purring sound that resembled a large cat that had drank a bowl of milk. Pete's ears perked up. The noise went off for a few minutes and then returned.
Fairly soon, Jerry came upstairs to report the happy news the end motor was working just fine. The operation was a success and the doctor seems pleased with the result. I looked at the thermostat. It was down to 79 degrees already. Cooler heads were about to prevail again.
This whole performance only took about two hours overall. But it seemed like an eternity.
We are a country that likes our comfort. I am not a big air conditioner guy when you are a little hot, your spouse is hot and your dog is hot, not having the machine available for your use when needed is damn near an emergency.
Jerry didn't look like the kind of doctor you see on TV. But he performed a surgery that, in its own way, had as much value as many operations you hear about. The results are really noticeable today. It is 90 degrees outside and a nice 73 inside. And I hope Jerry makes somebody else (and their dog) equally happy today.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Farewell to a grand lady
My wife's mother passed away Sunday. She was that rarest of souls - a person who didn't publicly judge people - and managed to keep a great perspective on just about everything.
Colleen was a person of great surprises. For example, she was an avid, hardnosed Scrabble player. My track record against her was roughly the same as the Detroit Lions against the Minnesota Vikings.
After her husband George died, she quietly went out and took classes to get her driver's license. Her kids had no idea until one day she announced she needed a ride to go take her road test. She didn't drive a lot but liked the fact she could.
We took her to a baseball game at the Metrodome one night and she startled my wife (and, I admit, myself) by keeping a perfect, neat scorecard. We knew she was a good fan but never saw this coming.
She had some strong political opinions but generally settled for everybody else battling it out publicly. But she felt strongly about voting and took pride in knowing all the issues before making a decision.
In the end, she was ready to go. The quality of life she once knew had diminished and she was sick of hospitals. As her body wore down, however, her strong heart kept firing to the end. I used to kid her that I knew where kids got their stubbornness gene from.
As Robert Sherwood once noted, dying is easy. All of us will achieve that. Living, however, is the trick. Colleen Larkin had a great run in life and had earned the right to leave on her own terms. Not many of us can say that.
We (myself, friends and family) will miss her greatly but feel fortunate to have known her as long as we did. In the end, that's all one really needs to say about somebody.
Colleen was a person of great surprises. For example, she was an avid, hardnosed Scrabble player. My track record against her was roughly the same as the Detroit Lions against the Minnesota Vikings.
After her husband George died, she quietly went out and took classes to get her driver's license. Her kids had no idea until one day she announced she needed a ride to go take her road test. She didn't drive a lot but liked the fact she could.
We took her to a baseball game at the Metrodome one night and she startled my wife (and, I admit, myself) by keeping a perfect, neat scorecard. We knew she was a good fan but never saw this coming.
She had some strong political opinions but generally settled for everybody else battling it out publicly. But she felt strongly about voting and took pride in knowing all the issues before making a decision.
In the end, she was ready to go. The quality of life she once knew had diminished and she was sick of hospitals. As her body wore down, however, her strong heart kept firing to the end. I used to kid her that I knew where kids got their stubbornness gene from.
As Robert Sherwood once noted, dying is easy. All of us will achieve that. Living, however, is the trick. Colleen Larkin had a great run in life and had earned the right to leave on her own terms. Not many of us can say that.
We (myself, friends and family) will miss her greatly but feel fortunate to have known her as long as we did. In the end, that's all one really needs to say about somebody.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Humor is always helpful
I wasn't necessarily looking forward to a 90-minute to Mankato .. even though Highway 169 is a nice drive. But getting through traffic in the Twin Cities to get to 169 -- even in mid-afternoon -- takes patience, grit and a lot of perseverence. Fortunately, I had the perfect sedative for such a journey.
Tom Lehrer was a satirist in the late 1950s and 1960s. He only made a couple of records (that are now on CDs) but the humor seems as a fresh now as it did then. Oh, it helps to be old enough to remember and understand jokes about people like George Murphy and Hubert Humphrey. I hardly noticed the idiot who made a left hand turn without a blinker and the guy who stopped in the middle of the highway to grab a cellphone that had apparently fallen out of his hand.
I merely listened to Mr. Lehrer's humor and moved on.
We live in parlous times. We all have a lot on our plates these days. It seems that no matter where you turn, somebody is unhappy and can't wait to tell the world about it. When you have enough of that, all that is left is to listen to somebody who makes you smile.
The 90 minutes fairly flew by. Now I am in a hotel with a dozen high school girls softball teams. What possibly can go wrong now?
Tom Lehrer was a satirist in the late 1950s and 1960s. He only made a couple of records (that are now on CDs) but the humor seems as a fresh now as it did then. Oh, it helps to be old enough to remember and understand jokes about people like George Murphy and Hubert Humphrey. I hardly noticed the idiot who made a left hand turn without a blinker and the guy who stopped in the middle of the highway to grab a cellphone that had apparently fallen out of his hand.
I merely listened to Mr. Lehrer's humor and moved on.
We live in parlous times. We all have a lot on our plates these days. It seems that no matter where you turn, somebody is unhappy and can't wait to tell the world about it. When you have enough of that, all that is left is to listen to somebody who makes you smile.
The 90 minutes fairly flew by. Now I am in a hotel with a dozen high school girls softball teams. What possibly can go wrong now?
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