In The I Could Care Less Department . . .

I haven’t thought of Pat Sajak in years. I mean, why would I?

In a recent interview, Pat admits in the early days of “Wheel of Fortune,” he and Vanna would go out and drink between tapings of the show. This has been all over the internet like it’s a big deal.

Who the hell cares, but while digging around on the internet on this subject for maybe two minutes, I found out other shocking facts.

Pat is in his 60’s now. He’s also bald. OK, not so shocking.

Vanna must be around the same age of Pat. I admit, she still looks pretty good, but maybe it’s all camera work.

“Wheel of Fortune” has been on for over 30 years. Will Vanna still be turning those letters when she’s walking with a walker?

I don’t care about this either, but I got a blog post out of all this crap.

(YouTube video)

Life Before Paper Towels

I washed some dishes last night and afterwards, I wiped out the kitchen sink with some paper towels.

This got me to thinking. I remember life before paper towels. My mother would use kitchen towels to clean up messes or whatever. When they got dirty, she would wash them.

I could make an argument that kitchen towels are better than paper towels because we shouldn’t be such a throwaway society, but I don’t really care.

I could search the internet and find out when paper towels were invented, but I don’t care about that either.

To my credit, I don’t remember life before toilet paper.

(I don’t care where I found the photo. We’re talking paper towels here)

Carl and Pearl

I think the older a person gets, the more they have to look back on. Actually, that’s just commonsense.

I’ve said this before, but one of these days, I’ll write a book about my strange life. Part of that strange life was knowing Carl and Pearl Butler.

I must have been seven or eight when these Country Music artists came to perform in Madison, Indiana. My parents and brothers and I arrived early to the show and we met Pearl who was sitting at a table. I remember she was smoking a cigarette. There were fans all around her but Pearl never acted like a star. She was just everyday folks like her fans.

Carl came out and shook a few hands, but he wasn’t much of a talker. He let Pearl do that.

Carl and Pearl stayed in my life through my teenage years. The last time I saw them was in the early 70’s in Nashville. They had been dropped from Columbia Records. Pearl said it was a relief as they didn’t like the way the label was treating them. She was excited about a new deal with Chart Records where they would be releasing three albums a year.

After one album release, Chart went out of business and I lost contact with Carl and Pearl.

It was all a long time ago but they’re not forgotten. I found a clip of them singing their biggest hit, “Don’t Let me Cross Over.” Many of you will hate this, but hear I go sharing again.

(YouTube video)

The Joy in Cracking an Egg

Since living in Northern Kentucky, some of my eating habits has changed. For example, when I go to the grocery store now, I usually pick up a dozen eggs.

During my three plus years living in Westwood, I never purchased eggs. Even before that, I can’t remember preparing eggs. Eggs have been off my list for a long time.

I usually eat oatmeal for breakfast, but sometimes now, I treat myself to some fried eggs.

There’s a sense of joy in cracking open an egg. I remember as a kid, my mother would let me crack eggs on the side of the skillet. I screwed up a lot, getting some shell into the skillet. My mom would yell at me about it.

She’s dead and can yell no more. Now when I crack open an egg and get some shell in the skillet, I don’t give a shit. There’s joy in that too.

On those fried eggs, I always put a slice of American cheese on top. I know none of this is very healthy, but healthy doesn’t always taste good.

This morning, I had eggs for breakfast. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to oatmeal.

(Photo found on Google)

There’s a Lady Inside My Computer

There’s a lady inside my computer. Apparently she works in security.

About three or four times a day I hear her say through my computer speakers “Avast data base has been updated.” She doesn’t say it too loudly as I seldom have the volume turned up very loud.

Sometimes I hear her voice in the middle of the night. Is the lady inside my computer trying to wake me up?

Sometimes I wonder what she looks like. She has a great voice so I’m suspecting she probably looks pretty good too.

Friends have told me I can always remove her voice from my computer but I don’t think I will.

Sometime I wonder if I should get a life.

(Photo from inside my computer)

Are American Idol Winners Really Losers?

“American Idol” is back on the air for another season. I watched a few clips from it yesterday morning and immediately felt bored. Maybe that will change as the season moves forward..

I started thinking about the winners over the years and could only recall a few that went on to have success. Kelly Clarkson found it and so did Carrie Underwood—but what about the rest of them?

Whatever became of Taylor Hicks? When was the last time you bought an album by David Cook or could even find one? Have you ever gone to a Lee Dewyze concert? Do you really think last year’s winner, Scotty—and I’ve already forgotten his last name—will have any hit records?

Seems to me most of these winners usually turn out to be losers. Many voters get it wrong most of the time.

Your thoughts?

(Image from American Idol)

Socks

When a person wakes up in the morning, they have to be thinking about something and this morning I started thinking about socks.

I’m in favor of them as they keep my feet warm. In fact I like socks so much, I wear them to bed. I guess I won’t get many dates by admitting that.

Some of my socks have holes. When putting on those socks, I try to arrange the holes to where they won’t come through my toes.

When at the airport, I try to wear good socks because I don’t want security people to see holes when I have to take my shoes off.

I don’t like wild colored socks but the older I get, the more I’m open to buying some. I want to be flexible.

I wear black socks and they don’t have to be an exact match. As long as both are black, that’s good enough for me.

I used to wear white socks but I don’t anymore. After a few washings, they turn gray and I don’t like gray socks. I’ve got several pair of white socks I haven’t even worn. Sometimes I think about cutting them up and using them as dust rags.

I have a pair of wool socks that I bought the last time I was in Maine. Actually I only have one of them as I can’t find its mate. This missing sock is on my mind much too often.

It’s no fun to get caught in a thunderstorm and having to remove wet socks from your feet.

I’m done thinking about socks. Now I’ll think of something else.

(Photo found on socks.com. No, not really, making it up)

Mitt, Newt and “Mad Men”

So Newt has won the South Carolina primary. I never would have guessed this but it’s not like I gave it a lot of though. Now that he’s won, I find it a bit amusing.

What this means for Mitt I don’t know but if it doesn’t work out for him, if the voters see him for what he really is, he can always join the cast of “Mad Men.” I mean he has the look with that slicked back black hair. He’ll have to learn to drink a lot and smoke cigarettes but I suspect he’s a quick learner.

As far as the womanizing on “Mad Men,” Newt would be a better fit. It might be fun to explore an open marriage from a 1960’s point of view.

Maybe I’m being unfair to Newt and Mitt, but as you have probably already guessed, I don’t care.

(Photo found somewhere on the internet)

A Knock on the Door

A few Sunday evenings ago, there was a knock on the door. I should say a knock on the door to my apartment building. I live on the first floor and I can always hear when someone wants that door unlocked to get in.

I pretended not to hear it. In my time living in the building located in Covington, there have been a lot of knocks on that door. I’m not the damn doorman and if they don’t have a key to get in, they probably shouldn’t be there anyway.

But the knocking wasn’t going away. Feeling annoyed, I unlocked my apartment door and went and opened the door to the apartment building.

Standing there was a young woman, probably in her 20’s. She was slim, had pulled back blonde hair and was wearing jeans and a T-shirt.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, “but my phone is dead and I need to plug it in and make a call.”

“You want to charge it?” I asked.

“I just need to plug it in to make a call,” she repeated.

I looked at her for a few seconds not knowing what to do.

“I’m your neighbor,” she said. “I just live down the street.”

“OK,” I said. “Come on in.”

She entered my apartment and went looking for an electrical outlet. I told her there was one close to the kitchen table.

“You live alone?” she asked as she plugged her phone in. I said yes, then immediately thought I shouldn’t have said that. What if her real intent was to rob me?

“I’m texting my boyfriend,” she said.

“Wouldn’t it be better to just call him?” I asked.’

“Yeah, probably,” she said.

She kept playing with her phone. What she was doing with it I’m not sure, but I started to feel even more uncomfortable.

Across from the kitchen table is my writing desk. I was sitting there and the woman noticed my cane leaning up against the desk.

“You feeling OK, sugar?” she asked. Now she was sizing me up to see if I was defenseless.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Where’s your boyfriend at?”

“At the bar.”

“Which bar?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “He’s probably drunk, that’s why he’s not answering the phone.”

She punched in some more numbers on her phone and finally left a message for her boyfriend to call her which he couldn’t really do because her phone wasn’t charged. She didn’t seem to figure this out and I wasn’t about to help her.

“I hope he calls you soon,” I said, getting up from my chair and leading her to the door.

“Thanks for your help, sugar,” she said. As she left, I went back inside my apartment, locked the door and put the chain on. Maybe this exchange with the woman took a total of 10 minutes, but it felt more like an hour.

The reality is I don’t think this woman meant me any harm and the thought of robbing me never crossed her mind. She just needed a little help but why couldn’t she use the electrical outlet in her own home? That’s a question I should have asked.

They say your original thought is always the best. I think the next time I hear a knock on that apartment building door; I’m going to pretend like I’m not home. I’m not proud to say that, but that’s the kind of person I’m turning into.

(Photo from photobucket.com)

Catsup Needs to be Catsup

I’ll be heading to the grocery store this weekend and I’m going to need some catsup, but I don’t think I’ll find what Chip and Robbie get.

Robbie likes pizza flavored catsup and Chip enjoys hictory catsup. I can’t seem to find these varieties anywhere. Maybe catsup just needs to be catsup.

As far as the video goes, my only question is where the hell is Ernie?

(YouTube video)