Scream A Little Scream Of Me

It is one of those moments that mark the unofficial start of Fall around these parts. Their brochures arrive like clockwork this time of year in all of the convenience stores. Yes, the Field of Screams in Mountville PA has once again begun their latest chapter in terrorizing young and old alike nightly through the middle of November. It is located about forty miles from where I live, but I have never gotten around to visiting it. This year, I am more intrigued than ever to go spend an evening there.

There are actually four main, separate haunted attractions involved at the Field of Screams which require separate admissions, but the cost structure is designed for attendees to secure a “Scream Pass” which gains you entry to each one.

Here are excerpts from their brochure with some immediate thoughts I have:

NOCTURNAL WASTELAND “As you walk along the narrow, winding paths through the dense overgrown vegetation, you will come face-to-face with the mutant creatures of this fear-filled forest. New for 2022 – You will be forced to make your way through the Deadwood Cemetery and encounter the Tree of Death!”

It sounds like trying to make your way through a very trying jungle. I have never done that, but I suppose it is something like those Black Friday sales I used to go to. I’ve certainly been to cemeteries before, but never at night. Their “Tree of Death” has me wondering how the hell they got ahold of the cherry tree we used to have in the front yard?

HAUNTED HAYRIDE “There is no turning back as the tractor-pulled wagons take you on a horrifying hayride into the depths of our dark and sinister cornfield. Feel the cold night air send shivers down your spine as you are attacked from all angles by the maniacal creatures who call this cornfield home.”

I remember when I was a little kid who hadn’t quite taken possession of common sense yet, a bunch of us hid out in a cornfield the night before Halloween and tossed handfuls of corn at passing cars. Mind you, this was a suburban back street where the top speed was approximately 2 mph, so it wasn’t as heinous as it initially sounds. However, during this Mischief Night adventure when the kernels hit one car, the driver hit the brakes and opened their car door. My friend Mikey may still be running.

Also, if I am ever attacked by creatures from all angles my current spine isn’t going to just be feeling the cold night air. That will be nerve damage.

DEN OF DARKNESS “Three stories of sheer terror await as you creep through the dismal passageways and maddening mazes of this 170-year-old original barn. New for 2022 – You will explore the Gory Greenhouse, the Putrid Pantry, and the Rotting Flesh Kitchen.”

I’m thinking if the barn is 170 years old…yes, that would be an original. Three floors? I’m not so much worried about passageways and mazes as much as whether or not the structure will support visitors. I’ll probably be ok with the “Gory Greenhouse” since we had no rain for two months this summer and our gardens provided their fair share of frightening scenes. As for that “Putrid Pantry” and “Rotting Flesh Kitchen,” they sound like dead ringers for when myself and three other guys rented a house for the summer.

FRIGHTMARE ASYLUM “Become a part of the bone-chilling madness as you explore four floors of the demented and the deranged! Feel the fear as you meet the disturbed doctors and nightmarish nurses who have taken up residence here! New for 2022 – You will get to meet the posse of Psycho Clowns as they unleash their vengeance on you.”

Four floors? (please see above “Den of Darkness” concerns about stability) As for their “Psycho Clowns,” that may very well be the most redundant title I’ve ever seen. EVERY clown is a psycho.

So, while pondering the main attractions offered, I noticed one additional section in the bottom right corner of the brochure…

EXTREME BLACKOUT – ONE NIGHT ONLY – NOVEMBER 11TH – LAST NIGHT OF THE SEASON “All four attractions will be darker, more intense, and hands-on! You will be subjected to new methods of torture, physical restraint, and isolation that are not a part of our regular season show. Extreme scare tactics and fear-inducing techniques will be incorporated as part of your Extreme Blackout experience. Not all will survive. Release waivers must be signed in order to participate!”

OK, this does NOT sound OK. Is it really breaking news you have to sign a waiver to participate in this?

I did take note in the fine print there is also a VIP Upgrade available at an additional cost. I can only assume that’s for life insurance.

My wife is not into the horror performance art thing at all. She told me when we first met that in the autumns of her youth, her youth group would always manage each year to find their way to haunted hayrides and houses. She reminded me when I mentioned possibly going here this year she has been sufficiently traumatized for life, thank you.

Me, I’m thinking this could be a bucket list event. I never did anything like this when I was younger and if not now, when? I love a well-done horror movie – providing really good scares – as much as the next guy. But, do I really want to immerse myself in an experience like this?

The “Extreme Blackout” sounds like quite the near-Death experience, but since I’m on the backside of life I probably don’t need to edge any closer to Death, so that’s a hard pass.

It does sound like I could pull off the main attractions…but I do have a concern about the close-proximity performers who might jump out and grab at me while my senses are in a heightened, frightened state. I am legitimately concerned I might instinctively knock them out…then you’ve got real blood mixing with the fake…getting lawyers involved, etc. I think I’d have to recruit at least one other person to accompany me, if for nothing else than to serve as a potential witness for police reports.

If you’ve ever been to something like this, I am curious to know what your experience was. If not, would you dare go there for scares?

 

Picture Courtesy Haunted Pennsylvania

 

The Drop Shot

In honor of the U.S. Open Tennis Tournament returning to New York City this week – one of my all-time favorite sporting events to watch – I thought I’d take this opportunity to post about a significant tennis moment in my life. The “anniversary” of this event is coming up, but it really feels like it only happened yesterday. Unfortunately.

My wife and I have not played tennis since.

The incident if ever recounted, is done so in hushed tones.

The wife and I were playing tennis at least once a week. Never in a competitive way, mind you. We simply went out for an hour or so sticking to the baselines, volleying back and forth.

That is…until “The Drop Shot.”

It was an early weeknight when we took to the court. The temperature was 70F. No wind to speak of. No one playing on the court next to us…although there were a couple of guys playing on the court one removed from where we were, so periodically we had to serve as ball persons for each other’s play. Otherwise, absolutely perfect conditions for twilight tennis on a well-kept, public court.

We were about a half-hour into play when it occurred. Mind you, we always kept score even though our shared goal was to extend points, get some good exercise, and enjoy the outdoors.

My wife, a pretty good field hockey player back in her day, was actually beating me in this particular game. She had just returned my shot from deep in her far corner when I executed “The Drop Shot.”

To this day, my wife insists it was because I was losing and consciously wanted to win the point by hitting my shot to land just over the net. My claim to this day is my competitive mind and muscles simply converged in the moment, and I subconsciously went for a winning shot. It was without a doubt the greatest drop shot I’ve ever hit.

It was also my last.

My wife, reacting to my shortened stroke and immediately setting aside our mutual goal to take things easy, attempted to sprint all the way from the back court in a spectacularly athletic yet predictably futile fashion to reach the ball in time.

Futile intersected with fall.

My wife went down several feet from the net in a full-on, concrete face plant.

I thought she was dead.

Mind you I was gratified to have won the point, but I decided to check on my wife first before retrieving the ball. As I got to her, she was rolling onto her side and making low, unintelligible sounds…which indicated she was, a) alive and, b) able to move.

“You OK? What hurts?

“My hand.”

“Just your hand. Great!”

“Great? No, not great. It hurts. A lot. I think I BROKE it.”

This is when I switched into ultra-positive mode. Knowing my wife as I do, it would be important to assure her she was OK, and that hand of hers would be fine with some rest and TLC. She’s as tough a trooper as I know, but in accident situations with anyone I always feel it is important to deflate any thoughts of potentially more serious injuries. Getting stressed about what may or may be wrong certainly doesn’t make anyone feel any better.

It did seem like her hand did take the brunt of the impact with the court. This was a good thing, because her head was next in line if that hand had not been extended to break her fall. The question now…was the hand actually BROKEN?

I quickly got her to her feet and into our car so, if nothing else, to reassure those guys playing nearby a hearse would indeed not be required. There was some concern on my part they might have seen my wife’s plunge.

I drove her to a Wawa convenience store (one we don’t normally frequent) to get some much-needed ice for her injury. I left her in the car briefly, returning as quickly as I could with an ice-cold drink for her, ice for her hand…and a TV Guide.

“You thought about the TV Guide during THIS?”

“It’s next week’s edition. I got it early!”

Uh-oh. She’s not laughing anymore.

Moments later, as I was getting her cooled down and set-up in a more comfortable position for the drive home, I was trying to adjust the angle of her seat to make her a bit more comfortable…when I almost made her horizontal as the seat control got away from me.

She actually managed a laugh about that, watching me being flustered getting the seat corrected.

Good sign. Laughter really IS the best medicine.

Until the next day of course, when her hand looked like one of those cartoon character balloons in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade.

Off to the doctor. Then the hospital. Multiple X-rays. No break. Bad sprain. Two weeks of rest.

Since then…conversations of “The Drop Shot” usually go like this:

“You know you hit that shot on purpose.”

“I did not. I just reacted in the moment. It was simply instinct. You were so far away, and the shot was there for the taking. I never thought you’d actually try to go get it. I didn’t mean to almost kill you.”

“Well, you almost did.”

“Again, I’m sorry. You know, I really thought you were dead for a second there. I’ll never forget that sight. It was awful.”

“I still can’t believe you bought that TV Guide.”

“I got it early!”

“Idiot.”

🎾

 

Picture Courtesy iStock

Joe Shlabotnik

I love underdogs in sports.

Hell, I even rooted for both the 1988 and 2021 Baltimore Orioles to just win a game when they eventually ended respective losing streaks of 21 and 19 games…even though if they had kept right on losing in either one of those seasons they could have possibly broken the record of the longest losing streak in major league baseball’s modern era…23 games by the Philadelphia Phillies.

I don’t like to see teams get embarrassed because as a fan I know full well what that feels like. I am a product of my environment, living in the suburbs of Philadelphia. All of our professional teams have a long, inglorious history of being quite far removed from championship glory.  Our current ledger looks like this:

Phillies – World Series Champions in 1980 and 2008. (131 seasons)

Eagles – Super Bowl Champions in 2017. NFL Champions in 1948, 1949, and 1960. (89 seasons)

Flyers – Stanley Cup Champions in 1973-74 and 1974-75. (54 seasons)

76ers – NBA Finals Champions in 1954-55 (as the Syracuse Nationals), 1966-67, and 1982-83. (73 seasons)

Which may be why I love Joe Shlabotnik. It’s usually this time of year – in the baseball dog days of August – when I most often think about Joe. For those who have not previously heard of Joe, he is a fictional baseball player featured in Charles M. Schulz’s classic Peanuts comic strip. He was Charlie Brown’s all-time favorite baseball player.

Charlie Brown worked endlessly to hunt down any and all memorabilia associated with Joe Shlabotnik. He once bought 500 one-card packs of baseball cards to try and get one card of Joe’s. While he wasn’t successful, his pal Lucy van Pelt bought only one pack and what-do-you-know…she was the proud owner of a Joe Shlabotnik baseball card. Unfortunately, Lucy then steadfastly refused to trade Joe’s card to Charlie Brown, even though she had no idea who Joe was. Once Charlie Brown exhausted himself trying to entice her to give up Joe’s card…she eventually decided he wasn’t quite as cute as first thought…and tossed the card into the trash.

Charlie Brown also once was under the impression he had a Joe Shlabotnik autographed baseball…which in fact turned out to be a forgery. But, it isn’t just Charlie Brown’s futility trying to get Joe Shlabotnik memorabilia that makes Joe an underdog for us all to root for. It is the “legendary” career of Joe Shlabotnik:

  1. Joe was demoted to the minor leagues after hitting .004 over an entire season. The one hit was a bloop single…with his team comfortably ahead.
  2. Joe once promised to hit a home run in the bottom of the ninth inning. He instead popped out…but circled the bases anyway.
  3. Joe had a knack for making routine fly balls into spectacular catches. He also had a talent for throwing out runners who had fallen between first and second base.
  4. Joe eventually retired as an active player and took a job managing the Waffletown Syrups. He was fired after one game when he called for a squeeze play…with no one on base.

Charlie Brown never got to meet Joe Shlabotnik. He bought tickets to a sports banquet where fans could dine with their favorite athletes…but Joe was the only athlete who didn’t show up. It turned out Joe had marked the wrong event, city AND date on his calendar. Joe was also invited to attend a testimonial dinner for Charlie Brown. He got lost on the way there.

Ironically, this might be one of the best pro sports years we’ve had in a while. The Phillies are competing down the stretch for a wild-card berth. The Eagles should be in the hunt for the post-season. The Sixers should be a lock for their post-season. The Flyers…they will likely have a season similar to the ones Joe Shlabotnik experienced. Not. Good.

In any case, thank you for allowing me to acknowledge Joe as one of my favorite characters in sports. When it feels like the pro athletes representing Philadelphia are performing poorly, I will think of Joe and realize they aren’t that bad.

 

Picture Courtesy United Feature Syndicate

Living In The Moment

I was cleaning off some excess grass from the lawn mower in the front yard a couple days ago when I saw a man and his dog walking on the other side of the street…headed in my direction. They were too far away to say hello, and I was headed back into the garage anyway to get some iced tea I had there.

It had been like mowing on the sun…should have just hired the landscaping crew who came to the door earlier (see above).

While I was in the garage cooling off, as this duo got closer I could hear the man singing to himself (or the dog?). He did not have ear buds or any player device – just him, his dog, and his song.  He was definitely enjoying his walk…this moment. However, his dog was periodically stopping to smell whatever dogs smell off to the sides of sidewalks. What struck me was how the man was singing his tune louder while the dog was walking ahead, but his song’s volume…and its progress…dropped off significantly every time the dog stopped.

I am confident in the brutal heat of the midday sun this man had forecasted to get back home sooner than later, but his dog clearly was operating on a different arrival schedule. I found it amusing how the loudness and pace of his song coincided with the forward movement of his dog. Yet, the man was so patient in ensuring the dog was safe at all times while “off-course,” and didn’t think to continue with either his desired decibel level or lyrical style until his dog was back in line and moving ahead.

I am positive I would never have noticed any of this if I hadn’t been actively trying to be in that moment. Over the last few years, I’m betting you have seen many self-help recommendations for all of us to try to live in the moment. Soak in as much of each day’s blessings as possible when we can find them…be aware of all of the sights, sounds, smells.

It has become a pet project of mine to consciously slow down, breathe, and try to appreciate special moments when I come across them. I don’t want to be as consumed with what is next on the to-do list, or worrying about what might or might not happen in the days ahead. For me, I have written my own healthy prescription to find, acknowledge and appreciate positive moments I come across daily.

Most definitely there are times we can’t possibly live within moments. Life comes at us with velocity, curves, and detours…quite unexpectedly at times. In those circumstances we have to look a bit ahead, look forward. Not just for ourselves, but sometimes for the benefit of others as well.

It was like the dog owner was doing just that, making sure both of them stayed together…living in their moment.

 

Picture Courtesy Universal Studios

Not A Dry Ice In The House

I once asked my wife to come up with a list of all the really dumb, idiotic, and stupid things I’ve done since she first met me.

That went on for a while.

For your amusement…a brief history of poor decision-making (in no particular order of stupidity):

The Tire

We got up one morning to find a car tire which was a little bit low on air. I eventually located the head of a small nail on the very edge of the tread. I insisted to my wife I could easily remove the nail, and the tire would be just fine until I could drive our vehicle to the shop. She protested, but to no avail.

A half-hour later, the spare tire had been installed and the now-completely-flat tire was resting in the trunk as I headed off for repairs.

The Ladder

I had the day off from work, but my wife did not. I really wanted to take a look at our gutter drains in one location to see if I could clean out some leaves before the next round of steady rain rolled in. I was confident there was some type of blockage up there. My wife insisted we should put it off until the end of the day so she could steady the ladder for me. I said I’d be just fine…not to worry…and off she went to work.

Later that morning, I exited the ladder from about a height of seventeen feet. Somehow, I was not injured. No, I didn’t tell her it happened when she got home…hell, I didn’t tell her for two years.

The Deck

We have lawn underneath our patio that requires mowing with a push mower. I needed to lower my head about a foot to avoid smacking it against the patio’s base. I insisted to my wife I’d always remember to avoid hitting my head with each pass.

At no point did I ever think I was going to black out, but it did leave a mark for a while…both times…OK, the two times she knows about.

The Cars

We had a horrible ice and snow storm one January. Our two automobiles were encased like fossils in the Ice Age. The morning the weather broke, I told my wife to stay warm inside while I ventured out in the tundra to clear them off. To expedite things, I used a snow brush from one of the cars to crack the ice off. Because it was quite cold, I decided to use the end of the scraper itself on the ice, not the brush.

Several friends felt we could go to insurance adjusters once we had our next hail storm, and they’d insure us for the dents on the hoods and trunks. Years later, the trade-in values reflected this morning in question.

The Codeine

I got so sick one day that by nightfall, my temperature was a robust 102. Fortunately, the doctor had evening hours that day and I was prescribed codeine syrup. I told my wife I was well aware of its effects, and if I had to get up in the middle of the night to use the facilities not to worry. I could certainly decide if I was OK to go to the bathroom.

She found me on the bathroom floor. She said she heard a thump – “did you fall?” I have tried to convince her ever since that night I simply got tired and decided to lay down. She remains to this day completely unconvinced.

The Movie

My wife wanted absolutely no parts of a movie called “Mortdecai.” She begged me to wait for it – if we had to see it at all – to come out on cable and didn’t want to spend any time and money on it at the theatre. I insisted we could both benefit from seeing what was promised to be a funny film.

We now have a name for the look my wife gives me when she’s thoroughly disgusted with me. It is known simply as the “Mortdecai Look.”

The Sticker

The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania requires owners of vehicles to renew their registrations annually. This used to involve – after payment – sending a sticker to owners to affix to the license plate in question. One day I arrived home first, and got the mail. The sticker had arrived and I decided I could manage the simple task of making our car legal for the twelve months ahead.

We found out just how serious the Commonwealth was regarding making sure their stickers stayed put…as we tried in vain to remove the newly-arrived sticker…which I had put on the wrong car. Pennsylvania has since eliminated the sticker aspect of registration renewal, but there is no truth to the rumor my actions helped lead to discontinuing the sticker requirement.

The Face

We had a Zero Turning Radius mower. When we bought it, the advice was given to us not to operate it in wet conditions, especially on uneven terrain. After a light rain one afternoon, I insisted to my wife it would be OK to mow. Not agreeing with the decision, she grudgingly came outside to do some gardening.

When she got to the large rose bush I had skidded into at the edge of our driveway, I tried my level best to assure her I was OK…even though my face felt like half the skin was gone. She gave me a once-over from head to toe…and calmly stated, “You’ll be fine.” Two years later, she admitted she thought those cuts would never heal.

The Rose Bushes

We had a couple other, smaller rose bushes that resided happily side by side for years thanks to my wife’s loving care. She was working weekdays at the time. I was not. Fall was nearing conclusion, and the rose bushes needed their annual trim (a technique I later learned was called “deadheading”). She took great pains to train me on exactly what needed to be done, but still didn’t feel confident in letting me fly solo. I defended myself vigorously, assuring her the rose bushes were in good hands.

After arriving home and reviewing my work, she didn’t talk to me for a couple of days. Surprisingly, the rose bushes were not dead. I might as well have been.

The Dry Ice

My wife’s parents sent us a gift from Omaha Steaks one Christmas. We had never gotten anything from the company before, but were impressed how frozen the food was considering how far it had travelled. After we got everything out of the big styrofoam cooler, all that remained was a large packet of dry ice. I noticed the label said “Do Not Touch.” Moments later, when my wife said she wanted to keep the cooler, I reached in and attempted to take out the packet.

Medical professionals compare injuries like I sustained as similar to burns, and often require medical attention. Fortunately, I was able to peel both of my hands off the dry ice. My wife told me to get it out of the house so I wouldn’t injure myself further, suggesting maybe I put gloves on this time around.

If anybody can identify with these or similar incidents, please outline your experiences in the comments. It’s always nice to know you’re not the only one who has made a poor decision…or ten…in life.

 

Picture Courtesy iStock

Robust August

Seeing a rabbit in the front yard this morning…not unusual.

Seeing a rabbit in the front yard with geese marching down the street…this is unusual. The geese spend most of their day at the golf course next to our development. I can only assume air traffic control told them to land on an auxiliary runway…our street.

August has finally arrived. With it, the welcome return of all the Fall and Winter sports I love. I’m definitely Team Fall/Winter, so this month is the gateway to the time of year I enjoy the most.

And regular readers know no matter what month it is I love watching shows…here’s the line-up for August. Let me know if anything looks familiar or intriguing:

CURRENT REWATCHES (Started in July…)

On Syfy Channel…

Warehouse 13 (2009-2014) – Great cast (Eddie McClintock, Joanne Kelly, Saul Rubinek, Allison Scagliotti, Aaron Ashmore) and a very impressive list of guest stars. The network caught lightning in a bottle with this series, which they decided to rerun in its entirety starting last month.

The premise: Two Secret Service Agents are reassigned to a mysterious warehouse located in the middle of South Dakota that holds every artifact, relic, and object collected and stored by the U.S. Government.

The rewatch takeaway: It has been great seeing Warehouse 13 again, so much so if someone asked me for a viewing recommendation on a series which is no longer airing, this would be right up there.

The moment worth a mention: At the end of the first hour of a two-part Season 3 finale, there is a scene so hard-hitting and emotional it usually tops anyone’s list of memorable moments from this series. This scene also features a slower, stripped-down, piano-driven masterpiece of the Kate Bush song “Running Up That Hill,” which recently played a big part in Stranger Things Season 4. I am not exaggerating in saying the scene is one of the very best I’ve ever experienced on television. And if you admire that song, please do give the version by Track and Field a listen.

On Comet Channel…

The X-Files (1993-2002; 2016-2018) – David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson’s chemistry shined brightly in this series, which a lot of folks have on their All-Time Greatest TV Show lists.

The premise: Two FBI Special Agents investigate unexplained events and government conspiracies alike.

The rewatch takeaway: In general, the show holds up really well over all this time when it comes to the stand-alone, “monster-of-the-week” episodes. They feature some of the best acting, writing, and editing you’ll see. However, the recurring, overarching plots regarding government conspiracy and paranoia interrupts the momentum our dynamic duo creates when digging into the paranormal, the supernatural…the weirdness. Every time the “Cigarette Smoking Man” came on-screen, I didn’t feel engaged. I also grew weary of him when it first aired.

The moment worth a mention: Season 5, Episode 12’s “Bad Blood.” Duchovny’s Fox Mulder kills what he thought was a vampire, but turns out to be a young man flashing some false teeth. The differences in how he and Anderson’s Dana Scully recall and remember what went down in their separate reports to their boss are wildly different…and quite humorous. This series features several other episodes which are welcome, funny breaks.

On Comet Channel…

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003) – Sarah Michelle Gellar and her “Scooby” gang became pop culture icons for many teenagers and young adults during their run. Like The X-Files, this show appears on some All-Time Greatest TV Show lists.

The premise: Destined to slaying otherworldly invaders of Sunnydale CA, Gellar’s Buffy enlists her Watcher and friends in trying to keep their town from being taken over by a wide variety of dark forces.

The rewatch takeaway: While the sets, special effects and make-up of the various creatures look silly at times, the whip-smart dialogue, camaraderie, and friendship of the characters – as well as outstanding acting – makes this a very satisfying rewatch.

The moment worth a mention: The 10th episode of Season 4, “Hush.” One of the most fascinating, unique episodes in television history. Over half of the episode’s running time features no dialogue. And with most of the episode having no spoken words, the show was actually nominated for an Emmy for Outstanding Writing in a Drama Series. Even if you don’t know a blessed thing about the Buffyverse, if you ever get the chance to watch “Hush” do it.

RETURNING SHOWS

On Syfy Channel…

Resident Alien (2021-Current) – New episodes in Season 2 return on August 10th. It has become a breakout hit for Syfy due to solid writing and a great cast of characters, led by veteran actor Alan Tudyk. The concept is simple and straight-forward…an alien’s original mission was to kill everyone on Earth…but now he’s the Earth’s only hope for survival. Tudyk’s portrayal of an alien trying to not look out of place in a small town in Colorado includes some of the best physical comedy you’ll see. It’s a show that has me smiling throughout.

ONGOING SHOWS

On HBO…

Westworld (2016-Current) – Season 4 has a couple of episodes left in it. This year has been a wild ride. One week I love it, one week I hate it…and that’s how the WHOLE series has been for me since Season 1 ended.

On Paramount +…

Evil (2019-Current) – Season 3 has a couple of episodes left in it. Regular readers here know how special I think this one is.

On Amazon Prime…

Paper Girls (2022) – Season 1 episodes just dropped a few days ago, and based on reviews that mentioned a faint resemblance to Stranger Things, I took a look. I still have three episodes to watch, but it has been a very pleasant late-summer surprise. It is set in the 80’s, and it has kids on bikes fighting sci-fi elements, but that’s about it for the similarities to Stranger Things. It starts out with four girls delivering newspapers in the early AM hours after Halloween in 1988, when they accidentally become caught up in a time-traveler war and their lives are changed forever.

NEW SHOWS

On Netflix…

The Sandman (2022) – Season 1 episodes debut August 5th. This series was in product development hell forever but this show – based on one of the most decorated comics of all time – is ready to roll now. I know next to nothing about it other than, 1) how very highly the comic is revered, 2) how creator Neil Gaiman waited a really, really long time before he found folks who could best translate his source material to TV and, 3) my very favorite Doctor Who companion is in it – Jenna Coleman. I’m going to give this one a go.

On Disney +…

She-Hulk: Attorney at Law (2022) – Season 1 episodes debut August 17th. Readers know Marvel is on very thin ice with me, but I’m going to go ahead and give this one a go also. The Hulk himself (Mark Ruffalo) is in it…so we’ll see.

The Concrete Jungle

One of the great things about regularly visiting WordPress is you get to see some amazing posts featuring beautiful, spectacular photography of all types of trees, plants, flowers, and greenery.

This is NOT one of those posts.

I instead welcome you to a brief tour of some living things at our spot in the concrete jungle known as suburban Philadelphia.

First up, the ficus. This tree was a gift from my wife’s mother ten years ago. We had never taken possession of a ficus before and with our well-known, family reputation of being serial killers of anything green, this also started out like it would be DOA. We put a couple of Christmas ornaments on it the year we got it to dress it up a bit, figuring we’d surely put it out of its misery after the New Year…

However, post-Holidays we changed our minds and instead tried to provide enough food and encouragement to correct its downward trajectory. Today it looks like this…

It has even been cut back a couple of times. Regular readers of this space will note Snowy McSnowface off to the left. It also is doing well during its first summer here…no doubt getting encouragement from the ficus.

Second, the pepper plant. This gift was given to us by my mother eight years ago. Again, no familiarity. It started out slowly, but morphed over time to periodically produce many mini-peppers. We dry the seeds and repurpose them into the plant just to watch it take off again…

Third, the evergreen. We bought this tree for ourselves ten years ago after having carved out some planting space between two holly bushes in the front of the house. We decorated it for Christmas that first year. Here’s how it looked then…

And here is how it looks today…

Finally, last Christmas (in addition to the afore-mentioned Snowy) we bought a poinsettia plant. We have a long, shameful history of epic fails when it comes to this species, but we figured we’d work diligently post-Holidays to keep it alive and nurse it towards another Christmas. So far, so good…

Thanks for taking this tour of our “jungle.” I never thought we’d achieve green thumb status…but we’re thumbs up for these modest success stories.

 

Picture Courtesy iStock

What’s In A Name?

Throughout the Internet’s relatively brief but amazing history, one thing we can always count on is a thoughtful and intelligent response when you ask it for creative advice.

Several years ago, the United Kingdom’s Natural Environment Research Council asked the Internet to come up with an inspirational name for a $240 million-dollar British Navy polar scientific research ship.

The winning name was Boaty McBoatface.

By a wide margin.

The Research Council then decided to quickly pivot away from that suggestion, instead naming the vessel the R.R.S. Sir David Attenborough after the famed naturalist. However, they did honor the Internet’s opinion by naming the lead vehicle among three remote-controlled submarines being carried aboard that ship as Boaty McBoatface.

As it turns out, the initial suggestion for Boaty came from BBC Radio’s James Hand, and that came about from an Adopt-A-Bird program a few years earlier. Boaty’s popularity was apparently an homage to…Hooty McOwlface.

(Mr. Hand did apologize to the Research Council as the Boaty votes started pouring in…)

Names aside, Boaty has over the years become a key player in assessing marine ecosystems and the health of the UK’s waters, and also will be a contributor of information that will help measure the impact of climate change.

Other historic moments in ask-the-Internet history:

Austin, Texas officials passed on the Internet’s recommendation of naming their Solid Waste Services Department the Fred Durst Society of the Humanities and Arts (after the lead singer of the band Limp Bizkit).

Slovak officials balked on the Internet’s advice in naming a pedestrian and cycling bridge near their border with Austria after actor Chuck Norris.

Mountain Dew drank in the early Internet responses towards selecting the name for their new apple-flavored beverage…promptly pulling the plug on their “Dub The Dew” campaign after Hitler Did Nothing Wrong took the lead.

Pitbull honored the Internet’s selection of which US Walmart location should host one of his concerts…the most remote one in Kodiak, Alaska.

Circling back to Boaty, the Research Council has also utilized him in marketing campaigns for children to understand the nature and value of maritime research.

There still remains those who will reach out to the Internet for advice. A couple of winters ago, the Minnesota Department of Transportation welcomed Plowy McPlowface to its snow-moving squadron.

We bought ourselves one of those Christmas mini-trees last December – for the first time – with the thought we’d only keep it through the Holidays as a small yet special reminder of the season when walking by our patio doors.

The tree has since maneuvered itself inside to an encouraging corner of the house, and it now looks like it will make its way to another Christmas.

With the tree now being a full-time resident, it only seemed logical to give it a name. I did not need to solicit the Internet for suggestions.

Hello, Snowy McSnowface…

 

Pictures Courtesy Natural Environment Research Council/The Guardian – Metro News

No Way Four-Way Highway

I come before you to plead my case for elimination of four-way stop intersections. This has been a silent crusade of mine for a while now. Many are unable to process the requirements of successfully navigating the Mother Of All Driving Dilemmas…four-way stop intersections.

All my wife and I were trying to do was get home with our takeout Chinese food. We were not in a particular rush as the local establishment manages to pack out orders at temperatures equivalent to the surface of the sun…which is fine because we like the food hot…and it does re-enter the atmosphere of safe eating by the time we get home.

Yet, there are multiple four-way stop intersections without lights in our path. Why this is I don’t know. Some degreed sadist in charge of “urban planning” perhaps.

On the way home as we were navigating these four-way stops, I commented to my wife how many people seem incapable of knowing who is next to go based on common sense and decency…not to mention who gets to the intersection first.

As I approached the final four-way stop before getting home, I encountered only one other car. Sweet. We and our flaming food would conquer this last hurdle and get home without incident.

While I clearly was the first car to arrive at my stop sign, the driver of the other vehicle pulled up a bit before theirs, but then began to roll into the intersection.

It was MY turn.

Instant replay would have confirmed it. I was first to my stop sign.

It was MY turn.

I rolled out into the intersection as well. I mean, if you don’t at least try to train these people what hope do we all have?

The other car made a full stop at this point. Success. I felt they had learned their lesson and proceeded forward once more…but alas, they did also. It was like they were toying with me.

Both cars were now parked pretty much in the middle of the intersection.

History will show the first obscene gesture was made by the driver of the other car. I point that out with pride, because what I did thereafter will not go down as one of my finest moments…at least that’s what my wife told me afterwards.

I returned the obscene hand gesture with one of my own. I then locked eyes with my new-found enemy – a woman with a cell phone attached to her face – and rattled off a stream of obscenities clearly audible outside our car regardless of the windows being up. Regardless of the decibel count, the other driver would not have to be a lip reader to get the context.

I then sped off, clearing the intersection first. Flush with adrenaline and filled with the sense of victory…I then heard the honk of a horn in the distance. I guess it was her way of trying to win the war even if the battle was lost. I should have taken the high road on all this at this point…but I couldn’t.

I honked back.

A lot.

Discussion while enjoying the cooled-down Chinese food was how I needed to be cool. Take it in stride. Don’t get upset. I’m not a road rage fellow at all. I yield. I take pride in not putting pedestrians on my hood. I’m a damn good guy behind the wheel.

Yet, I have come to the conclusion we need to see the light and install lights at each and every one of these four-way stops.

Then…maybe I’ll start to lighten up.

 

Picture Courtesy iStock

My Laser Focus

In my earlier post about the bullet points of my life while I was away from blogging, I failed to offer up if you ever need advice on what to expect when your retina falls out of position…I’m your guy.

Final week of September 2018. I woke up one morning, looked outside…and the view from my left eye made nearby homes look a little like the bending buildings you see in movies like “Doctor Strange” or “Inception.” At first I thought it had just been a rough night of sleep, but once I got oriented to being fully awake it was obvious something had gone a little sideways…

…like my left retina.

At the time, I somehow convinced myself it was not an emergency situation and started to go about my day. After all, I had cataract surgery a few years ago on the same eye. There were “floaters,” which happened off-and-on both before and after the cataract work, so they did not alarm me. I actually waited awhile, somehow convincing myself the eye would simply reset itself. I had also just gotten my annual eye exam three months ago and was judged to be just fine. It simply couldn’t be anything super-serious and I was planning a fairly busy week.

I eventually did research the Internet (where I always go first for my medical advice). Oops. This could easily be a medical emergency…and my first introduction to the words “retinal detachment.”

Off to the eye doctor, who confirmed the Internet’s diagnosis.

I was immediately booked into the eye surgery center (where I had my previous cataract surgery), scheduled for a next-day, 6 AM procedure. I was told I would actually be operated on at the same time as a couple other folks. They squeezed me in to their schedule, and all I could think of after hearing the confirmation was…1) it’s a super-early hour of the morning and I hoped everyone associated with my procedure would be fully awake, and 2) if there is going to be more than one person operated on at a time, what if they get distracted and work on the wrong eye? I wasn’t sure if I would even be awake to see they corrected the correct one.

Both of those concerns were resolved once things got rolling. Everyone in the room seemed to be awake and ready to go, and I also would not need to be “out” for the surgery. In fact, the surgeon not only announced what eye they would be working on, he had me confirm which eye needed an intervention before digging in.

I will say the surgery itself could not have been easier, or gone better. No discomfort at all – local anesthesia. The vision immediately thereafter was not 100% like before, but it was judged to be 20-20 and I judged myself to be lucky. My doctor (and the Internet) did note not only getting older, but having a cataract removed previously, might increase one’s risk for a retinal detachment.

I did have to go back to the surgeon for a couple post-operative visits. These visits were the only time I felt any discomfort or pain at all. The reason? The surgeon also had equipment in his office which allowed him to go in with his trusty laser and “burn-in” what was needed to further ensure the original surgery was a success. There was no local anesthesia.

The pain was like…like…someone was using a laser on your eye and you had no local anesthesia.

Ouch.

After the second post-op visit – and just an hour later at that – I actually had a job interview (for the role I eventually held until I retired last month). I could still feel that laser’s “touch-up” effects while trying to be calm and collected.

Flash forward a couple of months to the first week of December 2018…I had just started that job a couple of weeks earlier after having to delay my acceptance to fully recover from the surgery. Early in the morning one day, I thought I was back in the movie theatre again…

…out of the SAME eye.

Once more…well before the sun came up…you-know-the-rest. The medical explanation as to why we had the do-over was the first go-round fixed the tear present at that time, but the other side had now torn. Lucky me. The procedure itself was once again a breeze. Everyone at the eye surgery center seemed to be very surprised and quite sympathetic I was back again – so soon – for the same eye. Once more, a couple of post-op follow-ups…and the chance to visit with the laser again.

Ouch.

I still have “perfect” vision in the left eye chart-wise, but the view is a little weirder than after the first reattachment. In all seriousness, I recognize I am fortunate considering there have now been three operations on the eye overall.

Hopefully, the right retina stays upright.

We shall see.

 

Picture Courtesy iStock