Yeah, this two-updates-per-week thing doesn’t feel right to me. I might have to reassess. It’s not working out the way I’d envisioned it. Go figure. I’m usually so good at making wise life decisions….
Like this gem, from the days following my layoff from Warner Bros.: “We should probably stay in northeastern Pennsylvania, even though there are very few decent-paying jobs here, so the kids’ lives aren’t disrupted.” A true classic!
This week is going to be jacked-up because of the holiday, but next week I think I’m going to return to the old way of doing things. Which means three, sometimes four updates per week. I don’t like the Surf Report sitting dormant for days on end. It bothers me.
On Wednesday all four of us will be home at the same time, for the first time in weeks. Toney is working two part-time jobs, I’m working 50 hours per week and trying to write a book, and the older hooligan is working as a lifeguard at two different pools. We just come and go, and barely see each other.
So, we’re going to try to pack a lot into that day. We’re going out to lunch together (probably Chinese), and will be throwing a modified deck feast in the evening. I say modified, ’cause we ain’t eating out there; it’s too goddamn hot. So, we’ll have the usual food spread, but will be ingesting it indoors, with the air conditioners running wide-open.
Needless to say, we’ll have plenty of fancy-ass microbrews on-hand. It’s something we don’t have the opportunity to enjoy these days, because we’re never home at the same time. And if I’m going to be drinking alone, I’ll just have a Yuengling (or even a Pabst). Screw it. Craft beers are for socializing.
And speaking of “too goddamn hot,” my parents were without power for several days last week — and the temperatures reached 102 degrees. They said most of the gas stations and grocery stores were closed, ATMs wouldn’t work, and things were edging toward Omega Man territory. Or Lord of the Flies, or something.
When I spoke to my dad yesterday morning, he said their electricity wouldn’t be restored until Friday(!). A full week, in the hottest weather imaginable. The food in their fridge was spoiled, and they were making coffee by heating a pan of water on the gas grill on their patio, and pouring it slowly through a Mr. Coffee filter.
“Come up here,” I begged him. “You guys shouldn’t sit around in that heat.” But, no. They’d rather be utterly miserable, than to spend another week at our house. Presumably they weighed their options, and decided that sitting in a heatbox with no food, and no way to sleep through the night, was preferable to returning to our place. Yeah, it makes me feel pretty good.
But their power was restored last night, so all is well with the world. They’re back on the grid now. Bullet dodged, on that Jeff thing! Whew.
And by the way… Nancy and the Translucents will be passing through here tonight. We found out this morning. But I won’t be around, and might not see them, at all. They’re going to Canada, and will be using our house as a sleepover opportunity. They’ll probably be gone before I get up tomorrow, and I won’t get home until about 2:30 tonight.
So, if there are any good stories to be had, they’ll have to come through Toney. She’s a pretty good reporter, though. Stay tuned.
I have a feeling we’ll be seeing Nancy and her brood of unusual children a lot, for the next few months. She doesn’t like to stay put, even under normal circumstances. But the divorce is going to cause her to travel like a maniac. When there’s unusual chaos in her life, she travels. I’ve seen it many times.
And I’ll leave you guys now, with a quick Question. In the comments section, please tell us in what circumstances you refuse to tip a person.
A few days ago I was in charge of dinner, and Domino’s was having a special ($3.99 medium sized pies). They’re not very good, but not as horrible as people like to pretend. And the price couldn’t be beat. So, I ordered three pizzas, and picked them up.
And on the receipt there was a place to write in an amount for a tip. For what?? Handing me three boxes? Funk dat. I put an X on that line, and wrote in the original amount underneath. A delivery guy gets tipped, not some hamster-cheeked cashier, who did nothing but pivot on her sturdy legs, and pass me a small stack o’ pizzas.
Also, some drive-through windows have a tip jar. Ha! They can ram it deep and on a slant. And at the beer store they’re now soliciting tips, as well. I’m sorry, but cashiers don’t get tipped. There has to be some extra service provided.
What do you think about this? What are your feelings on the preponderance of tip jars, all of a sudden? I’m a very good tipper, when a tip is warranted. But I ain’t tipping the Burger King dude, who did nothing but pass me a sack through a hole in the wall. I mean, seriously.
Please use the comments section below, to expound on this important subject.
And I might be back tomorrow. I feel the urge to get back into the full swing of things. We’ll see how it goes.
Have a great day, boys and girls!