Category: CREATURE FEATURES (Page 32 of 37)

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My! (Plus dogs and cats)

Retirement is not without Hassles: Sleep #352

December 1, 2017 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

There was a song on the radio this morning by Morrissey called, “Spent The Day in Bed,” that made me smile. I had just finished my morning run on another dismal, gray day, and thought about that special place that’s hard to get out of each day. It’s not so much that I don’t want to face the day; it’s the warmth and comfort of being there. I thought that by the time I got to be 66 years old that I’d surely be an early riser. Instead, I truly could spend the whole day in bed.

When I was a teenager, noon was too early to get up, and it wasn’t because I was out late. I enjoyed waking up and knowing that I had an extra hour or more to sleep. I’ve tried to rationalize that how much sleep you get doesn’t matter; eight hours can go by just as quickly as one hour. What would irritate most people, by waking up every couple of hours, is actually uplifting for me, since I have little trouble getting back to sleep. Every time I wake up and look at the clock, I find comfort in knowing that I have at least another hour to sleep. I realize that it’s a head game and that longer periods of sleep are certainly more beneficial, but it works for me.

Getting out of bed is always tough, whether it’s after a long night’s sleep or simply a short nap, but getting back in is the reward. One of the great benefits of retirement, is not having to set an alarm. However, my wife is still working, so out of respect, I set a vibrating alarm on my Apple Watch for 6 a.m. each weekday, so I can run while she gets ready for work. In my working days, when the bedside alarm went off in the morning, I would never hit the “sleep” switch, since it would only prolong the agony of getting out of bed. I had already been up several times during the night, and experienced the pleasure of getting back under the warm covers and surrounding myself with soft pillows. Instead, I would “trick” my mind into knowing that in “just a few hours” I would quickly return after earning the right to dream again. Immediately, Frankie our cat then claims my spot on the bed, keeping it warm until my return.

I feel guilty now if I sleep past 7:30 a.m., because the dogs need to go outside to do their business. Fortunately, they are both good sleepers and able to manage their bladders for at least eight hours. I wish I had that kind of bladder control, but old age means prostrate issues, and I get up at least four times every night. To me, that equates to four opportunities to go back to sleep, and that makes me happy. It’s certainly better than “getting madder over an angry bladder.” The more Diet Coke I drink to keep me from napping in the afternoon, the more trips to the bathroom I make each night. The solution is simple: stay away from caffeine and sleep longer. Yet, I’m sure I’ll have a Diet Coke after today’s noon leadership meeting. Buffalo Wild Wings does not serve Coca-Cola products, so I’ll drink Coors Light. The beer will make me sleepy and the Diet Coke will counter the effects, yet more liquids in leads to more liquids out.

The gist of the Morrissey song is that spending the day in bed is the best way to ignore all the bad news in the world. As a result, he’s “very happy he did.” To me, sleep is not avoidance or laziness, but rather “sweet dreams.” Plus, there’s other enjoyable things you can do in bed other than just sleep, if you know what I mean? I don’t have a “Sleep Number,” but I know that the “number” of times that I get up, knowing that I can go back to sleep, is all that matters.

Creature Features: Pet. Vet. Debt #351

November 30, 2017 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

It’s another gray day in Portland, Oregon, a moist environment only suitable for mold, rot, allergies, moss, and infection. It’s especially hard on small pets like our Schnauzer, Tinker. She’s getting up there in the years; we believe her to be almost 12 human years and 94 dog years old. Cold, wet weather is hard on her large, sensitive ears, vulnerable skin, and arthritic joints. Only the veterinarian prospers, with what now seems like weekly visits for ear infections, eye seepage, and lesions. I feel sorry for the old gal, as she itches her way through each day despite our efforts to monitor her diet and keep her regularly treated.

Our cabinet is full of her prescriptions that seem to do little good. She’s reluctant to eat her dinner or snarf down a treat for fear that a pill is hidden somewhere within. Her kibbles often sit in the bowl, too similar in consistency to the tablets that we force down her throat. We’ve now resorted to rice and chicken in lieu of canned foods that are loaded with unknown additives. We know she’s allergic to wheat and eggs, but the constant moisture in the air is her worst enemy and something we can’t control. When we lived in Texas, for example, she had fewer problems with her bat-like ears and aging skin.

Tinker looks like she could fly by simply spreading out her ears like Dumbo, but her constant appetite and pudgy stomach keep her grounded. She could be related to the millions of bats that live under the Congress Street Bridge in Austin, Texas that take to the skies each night like a massive cloud of black smoke. She could smell them on her afternoon walks, as they slept in the cool darkness of the bridge joints after a long night of devouring mosquitos and other bugs. Austin is where Tinker met her younger sister, Tally, a jet-black schnauzer that we adopted nearly 8 years ago. Neither of them had their ears cruelly cropped, as is common with the breed to give them a more distinctive look. However, many will argue that cropping will reduce the vulnerability to ear infections that we constantly battle.

Tally usually accompanies Tinker to the Vet’s office, but other than annual check-ups and shots, she has enjoyed outstanding health. She’s the first to jump on the scale as we enter the waiting room, waiting for acknowledgment by the receptionist. Tinker and Tally (T-N-T See Post #211) are the cutest combination of pups. Tally smells the infection growing in Tinker’s ears and serves as a detector for its presence, by aggressively licking the area. It’s as if she’s permanently attached to the side of Tinker’s head until we get it properly treated. That treatment is now typically an injection, in an attempt to avoid the pills that she has learned to despise. Too often we would find the pills hidden around the house, as she somehow tricked us into believing she had swallowed. It just got to be too much of a battle.

Yesterday, while Tally supervised, Tinker received an impression smear and two injections. Cha-Ching! One was an anti-biotic and the other a steroid to hopefully control bacteria growth and keep her from scratching the affected areas. As I’ve written many times before: Pet. Vet. Debt. Tinker is comfortably napping on the chair in my office, while Tally is content in the living room, guarding the patio door. Hopefully, we can stay away from the Vet until after the first of the year when she’ll need x-rays and an exam. In the meantime, I’ll save up!

Retirement is not without Hassles: Vegas #350

November 29, 2017 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

My wife is in Las Vegas tonight with her boss, while I am relegated to pet sitting. I know she would rather be with me, since we were married at the Bellagio over sixteen years ago. (See Post #340). She was not enthusiastic about her business meetings there, but our dog Tinker ended up needing my attention with an ear infection, so it’s fortunate that I stayed home this time. In her absence, I had also planned to visit a friend’s house near the Oregon Coast, watch the I.U. vs. Duke basketball game with him, and take the dogs for a romp on the beach. Tinker’s ears are probably burning, not just from infection, but she probably knows that I’m writing about her, and that her health prevented our journey. Instead of Vegas or the Coast, I’m at my computer tonight, reminiscing about trips to Vegas, and killing time before the game.

My first trip to Vegas was in 1970, when I quickly passed through there as part of my “Blueberry Hill” adventure. (See Post #295). I was in college, underage, and traveling with a friend, but our interest was not Vegas but rather the Pacific Ocean. As a result, we did not go to the casinos, although fascinated with the lights, especially as we were approaching through the dark desert. Our funds were limited, so we only stopped for gas, a toilet break, and orange juice before continuing our route west. The ocean seemed to draw us like a magnet, and fortunately we could go no further. As my dad is credited with saying when I reluctantly told him where we were in a phone call back home, “thank God there’s an ocean” was his witty reply. He did not know that we were taking his car that far, assuming that we were simply going camping at the nearby Indiana dunes. Honestly, we did not even know where we’d end up, having packed for only a weekend, but the ocean was calling. I give him credit for maintaining his temper, but I’m sure he was simply in shock from discovering our whereabouts. The wise words he muttered were very true, since we surely would have kept driving if there wasn’t an ocean to stop us.

I got my first true Vegas experience in the late 1970’s as the result of a sales contest. I was selling advertising time for a radio station in my hometown, and was excited at the prospect of winning a group trip to Vegas if our sales team could achieve our annual sales goal. We all worked hard to make it happen, using advertiser credits to put us barely over the top. I think the station manager was stunned that we made it, and was not prepared to lay out the cash to send us all to Vegas and had to justify it with the owner. In retrospect, it was a very low budget trip, but we did get to take our spouses. We flew on an off-brand flight and stayed at the Westward Ho, right next to Circus Circus. We got to go to a show, had a group dinner, and each got a $100 bill to gamble away. I had a young son, very little in my wallet, and fortunately didn’t own a credit card. I lost all my money the first night, but put together a plan to earn some cash. In those days, each casino offered incentive dollars that you could claim each hour. I had to sign up for a time-stamped card and with each hour that passed could claim a roll of nickels. It was like Trick or Treating for cash. My wife and I set up a route down the strip and spent many hours using coupons to collect money. We found that by dividing and conquering, we could gather even more, and when we got back to the room placed all our “candy” in a big pile on the bed. I can’t remember how much we collected, but it kept us busy, bought a few cheap meals, and allowed us one last chance to potentially strike it rich. That did not happen. What I remember most of that first trip, was how thin the walls around our room were, and became convinced that there was a conspiracy among the housekeeping staff to keep us awake all night so that we had no choice but to go out and gamble. There were no clocks and the air conditioning system was not working properly, so I got very little sleep and got frustrated with the whole Vegas scene. I never wanted to go back – but have many times since.

I won another trip to Vegas while working at a radio station in Indianapolis in the mid 80’s, and remember my boss getting us all front row seats for a Sammy Davis show by tipping the host with a pile of poker chips that he had won. This adventure was a big step up from the first and second visits. We had tickets to several shows, stayed in a quieter hotel, and got more gambling money to lose. It was the prelude to several personal trips that we took over the next couple years, making Treasure Island our home base, but I was never as big of a gambler as my first wife, so I was never happy in Vegas. I do remember going to Hugo’s Cellar for dinner at the Four Queens downtown where the ladies each received a rose and we enjoyed our first encounter with a Sommelier and good wine. My wife at the time would stay up all night playing Blackjack, while I often went to bed early counting my losses. I did enjoy walking the strip, observing the unusual people, watching the outdoor displays, and thinking about all the free money that I collected on the same route years ago.

When I got remarried, we started going to Vegas for work-related conventions. We would stay at the Bellagio and go to meetings, shows, and cocktail parties. Through the years, I saw several different Cirque du Soleil shows, the most memorable being “O,” The Beatle’s LOVE, Avenue Q, and Mamma Mia. I even got to meet Pete Townsend and The Who at a CBS party as part of introducing the television show, CSI. I had talked my wife into getting married in 2001 as part of the TVB convention. She was reluctant because at one time she saw a VHS tape of my first wife and I getting humorously hitched by “Elvis,” and it left a poor impression of the Vegas wedding scene. We eventually settled on a much classier Bellagio ceremony in their rose garden, but after our honeymoon night, for business reasons, had to move to the less expensive Rio. She also reluctantly needed to get back to Indianapolis while I stayed for meetings, so even though the ceremony was unforgettable, some of the circumstances around it were less than desirable. Two of the most memorable moments were the limo ride to the courthouse to get our marriage license, and nearly missing the 12:30 p.m. ceremony because I had to wait to cash out on a winning slot machine. We had to scramble to get to the “chapel on time.” We had dinner at Delmonico’s where I presented her with a cake-topper Limoges of a bride and groom.

From 2001 through 2005, we traveled to Las Vegas each year, but haven’t been back since 2011 when we celebrated our 10th anniversary, with the exception of connecting flights. Her being in Vegas tonight is a distinct reminder that we need to go together soon. For us, it’s a romantic adventure that has been missing from our busy lives, even though the city is as accessible as anywhere we’ve lived. Our Vegas dining experiences have included Michael’s, Seablue, Bouchon, Joel Robuchon, Noodles, Aria, Fellini’s, Emeril’s, Aqua, 808 Ceasar’s, 3950 Mandalay Bay, Joe’s Stone Crab, Flavors By Alex, and Chinois, along with several visits to the fabulous Bellagio Buffet. I’d tell you more but, as we all know, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

Retirement is not without Hassles: Lazy Days #348

November 28, 2017 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I have an occasional “lazier than usual” day, meaning that I just can’t get going. After four days of being on the go, I simply didn’t get the week off to a productive start. It was the same pattern when I was working just prior to my retirement, as it took all day Monday to recover from the weekend. I’m definitely slowing down; even my morning runs take longer. I want to say that there are good days and bad days even in retirement, but actually the bad days are even good. I felt a bit sluggish even taking out the trash and the skies were gray, so there wasn’t much to motivate me, but there will be better days ahead.

Today is my day to cook and I’ll soon put a chuck roast in the slow cooker to make Italian Beef sandwiches. They were always my favorite at Wrigley Field, and remind me of a baseball game in the summertime. My wife is headed to Vegas on business tomorrow, so this will keep me fed the rest of this week. I hope the rain stops and I can take the dogs to the coast for a romp on the sand while she’s away. They are now on a chicken and rice diet and will be disappointed when they get a whiff of the Italian Beef. Maybe Tally can have a bite or two when Tinker isn’t looking, just like we do with our morning eggs. Tinker is allergic to so many things, and we are constantly looking for ways to control her itching, even at the expense of her favorite foods.

I ordered Christmas gifts for my grandkids yesterday, taking advantage of Cyber Monday sale prices. Just getting some of this troublesome shopping done gets me in a better holiday mood. I’m beginning to notice some holiday lighting around the neighborhood, but was never one for outside decorating. A friend posted yesterday that “homes decorated on the outside are happier on the inside.” I think that in some cases, it’s simply an excuse to get out of the house and away from the family hassles. Also, judging from many of the displays I observe, some people should not openly show off their poor taste in decorating for everyone to see and question. It’s bad enough that they don’t keep up their lawns or trim their bushes, so darkness is often a relief. Instead, they show off their laziness by stringing lights carelessly around the front yard that looks like colorful vomit. Maybe it was the result of too much eggnog, They don’t have to look at it because they are happily inside, while the rest of us drive by wondering what they were thinking. I simply put a wreath on the front door. Bah Humbug!

I was never one for excessive decorating and once thought about installing a Lazy Susan in the corner of my living room. It would rotate into a storage room, so the Christmas Tree could disappear or reappear without ever having to take it apart. A chair, end table, and lamp would be on the opposite side of the turntable, restoring the corner to a non-holiday look for the first eleven months of the year. The day after Thanksgiving, I’d simply push a button and the Christmas Tree would rotate into position. Now that’s decking the halls! I also never understood why holiday lights were still up in March, or the height of laziness from those who never took them down. It’s like they thought no one noticed, when they “cleverly” plugged them in each year. Inflatables should also be restricted to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, and not on someone’s front porch. More Bah Humbug!

Fortunately, experts have come to our aid. Professional decorators are available to tastefully light our homes, and save us from falling off ladders. They do the work, and we write a check if we’re lucky enough to get that year-end bonus. If not, homeowners can now buy trees with built-in lights, and shower cap like mesh to cover your bushes with lights that are equally distributed. Nowadays, homes no longer have to look like they were wired by a drunken, angry madman. I always felt that there were men who purposely did a poor decorating job just to spite their nagging wives who forced them out in the cold to put up the lights when they could have been watching football. I’m sure their Christmas wish was that they’d never have to do it again, once the neighbors filed a complaint with the Association.

As an old man, I’m also against fireworks and loud explosives in celebration of the holidays when they’re done in a neighbors back yard. Admittedly, I once thought it was cool to buy illegal firecrackers, M-80’s, smoke bombs, cracker balls, and sky rockets. We would always stop in Tennessee on our drive back from Florida each year and stock-up on gunpowder goodies that were always conveniently located next to liquor stores, gun shops, and strip clubs. I soon learned that fireworks were dangerous, annoying, and cruel to animals, veterans, and neighbors, and that there was a reason why they were outlawed in so many states. I do enjoy a good fireworks show in a controlled environment. By the way, I also don’t like honking horns and screaming children. Now, get off my yard!

Honestly, the main reason why I don’t decorate outside is because I’m lazy. What you put up – you have to take down, so if you don’t take the first step then you don’t have to do the last. There was also that one bulb that would burn out and render the whole string worthless, not to mention having to climb into the spooky attic to retrieve the boxes of ornaments, lights, wreathes, and tangled electrical cords. The cold Midwest temperatures and early freezes also made it difficult to maneuver a ladder into position, and thoughts of Clark Griswold stapling his shirt sleeve to a second story soffit gives me the shivers. I’m also scared of heights and do not enjoy the outdoors, so I am much happier if I don’t take the trouble to decorate. I do however enjoy criticizing those who do are not so lazy when it comes to holiday decorating.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Spend vs Save #319

November 1, 2017 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

While I was working, I saved a portion of each paycheck to eventually use for travel in retirement. That time has come! I had to cash-in a portion of my IRA to cover some mounting credit card debt from all the traveling we’ve been doing. With my wife still working, it’s highly taxed and I’m not really getting the benefit of deferring it all these years. It’s rewarding to know that I saved the money, but there’s a certain sense of guilt in withdrawing it from my nest egg.

When you’re not earning a salary and putting money into investment accounts, it just doesn’t feel right to spend it, even though it’s what you saved for. I justify my actions by reasoning that my wife’s future savings will more than counter the loss, and I won’t have to pay the credit card interest. However, I still have that unsettled feeling of coming a little closer to running out of money with a lot of living to do.

I knew that the first year of retirement would involve a great deal of travel and it’s related expense. Before the year is over, we will have gone nearly 50,000 out-of-town miles and have spent nearly 80 nights on the road. That’s nearly $5,000 in pet sitting alone! Next year will be equally as busy, with trips planned to Amsterdam, Venice, Croatia, Athens, Mexico, Hawaii, Vancouver, Florida, Los Angeles, Indiana, and New York. I thought that I had put together a travel budget that would not eat so much into my IRA, but I’m beginning to worry. What else do I have to do now…but worry?

I won’t be spending any money today. Normally, it would be Date Night, but my wife was anxious to dine at Langbaan, a tiny Portland restaurant that is closed on Wednesdays. I was finally able to get a reservation for tomorrow night, a process that has taken several months. My wife had initially put herself on their waiting list, but when they have an opening they give you only 15 minutes to respond. She missed several texts and eventually gave me the job. Finally, after several near misses, while we were in New York last week I was able to get back to them and secured the long-sought-after table. It’s the most heroic thing I’ve done for her in some time, and she’s quite excited to go there. It, of course, will be well over the budgeted Date Night expense.

I cooked a pork shoulder in the crock pot for last night’s dinner, using Ray’s barbeque sauce and Coca-Cola. She handed out candy bars to about seven groups of Trick or Treaters. Apparently, it was the first time in nearly a decade that it hasn’t rained here in Portland on Halloween night, so to have this many costumed beggars was a pleasant surprise. We don’t live in a neighborhood where there are a lot of children and expectations were low until the first ring of the doorbell. My cooking night had recently been shifted to Date Night, so with this week’s schedule changes, I’m totally confused on what day it is. I do know that Friday night is the Tedeschi Trucks Band and Saturday morning I leave early for a baseball memorabilia show in Seattle, so it will be a busy weekend.

Movember is here, so we can expect a lot of hairy mugs by Thanksgiving. I will not be participating again this year due to lack of facial hair, but several of my friends will show-off their manhood. A pink October has just passed us by, and now it’s time for men’s health concerns. I did schedule a doctor’s appointment for December so I can say good-bye to my physician, who is joining me in this lazy world of retirement. I’m closing in on my first full year, and hoping that next year will be even better, but I might need to win the lottery.

Retirement is not without Hassles: The Big Apple #315

October 29, 2017 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I would often travel to NYC on business, but now that I’m retired, I’m here in The Big Apple because my wife is on business. I go where she goes now, with distant memories of corporate meetings, conventions, budget discussions, performance reviews, and client lunches. I even had to fire a guy here in New York over lunch, so many of my memories aren’t good ones. There’s also a certain energy in the air that keeps me awake at night. It’s the city that never sleeps, and doesn’t let me sleep well, either. Traffic congestion, shoulder-to-shoulder crowded sidewalks, waiting lines, excessive horn-honking, sirens, and loud conversations would normally keep me away.

As soon as I hit the ground at JFK the big city hassles began. I frantically searched the overhead bins where I had stored my top coat. A stewardess eventually found a coat but it didn’t look like mine. It was the same style and color but didn’t have the “Made in Italy” tag to identify it as belonging to me. I thought back to a NYC trip years ago, where someone grabbed my coat by mistake, leaving me with sleeves that were five inches too long. I finally got a call from the owner, apologizing for the mistake. He found my business card in a pocket and it turned out that coincidentally we worked for the same company, and soon agreed to exchange Fed Ex shipments. The Big Apple was already looking rotten.

As we arrived in the terminal, I took the coat that I was sure wasn’t mine to Baggage Claim and eventually was redirected to Lost and Found. As I was about to turn it over to the agent and make a stolen coat report, I reached in the coat pocket and found a business card…my business card from a few years ago. It was my coat, and I left embarrassed after this obvious “Senior Moment.” I was so convinced that someone had taken my coat just like before. New York was like that! I was then so upset with myself that I left my laptop and I-Pad behind and wouldn’t have even realized it, if it weren’t for the thoughtful agent who tracked me down as we waited for a taxi. I now had all my stuff, but had lost my mind. I’m sure that they’re still laughing at the old guy who tried to turn in his own coat as lost, and then left without two of his most valuable possessions.

I keep thinking that I’m no longer a child in need of guidance, but I’m constantly lost and/or confused. I get upset with my wife for giving me directions, instructions, and advise, but apparently I need it now more than ever. I ran an extra mile the next morning, trying to find my way back to our hotel. At least, I remembered the room key and room number – details I haven’t necessarily remembered on other trips.

We saw four Broadway Shows, had several pricy meals, and bought some artwork. Nothing is inexpensive in New York City. We were also fortunate to reacquaint ourselves with old friends. One happens to still be a major client, and a pioneer in the future of media buying, who we hadn’t seen in 25 years. I also bought lunch for a friend of mine’s son, who just started his career here, 2500 miles from home. Finally, we enjoyed an extended evening of dinner and a show. They were able to get us back stage after the Bette Midler “Hello Dolly” performance.

My nerves have settled a bit, as a sit in the midst of New York style flea market with enclosed glass booths rather than tents. I overreacted to my wife’s enthusiasm to try-on and buy things when we’re supposed to be downsizing and donating. There was a massive street fair just outside our hotel and I was immediately thrust into shopping mode without warning. She’s still working and therefore entitled to expand her personal possessions, not in the retirement world like me.

To make matters worse, I was supposed to be guarding my wife’s designer sweater while she shopped. In another forgetful moment, I left it unattended. After a frantic dash to retrieve it, we were fortunate that it was still there. I feel that I need mitten clips for everything we own, and that I can’t keep track of any additional stuff.

Creature Features: The Nose Knows #314

October 26, 2017 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Whenever we pack our suitcases for a getaway, we have to be careful about upsetting the dogs. We don’t want them to get overexcited about a potential road trip, and we especially don’t want them to worry about us leaving them behind. Both dogs have a bit of separation anxiety, so we hide our bags in the closet, so they don’t know we’re leaving – or so we once thought. Our one schnauzer, Tinker, who we think is part poodle, has a sixth-sense about her, and I now don’t think that we’re getting away with anything. I wrote this poem to honor her superior intelligence, knowing that she probably relays her intuitions to our other schnauzer, her sister Tally.

The Nose Knows 2

There’s something in the air,
You can sense it all around.
Whatever it is?
It will be found.
.
A sniff here and there,
She breathes it in.
Tilts her head back,
Puts her chin in the air.
.
It’s not dinner time,
Or time to go out.
But the look on her face,
Resembles a pout.
.
Whatever your plan,
Tinker knows
Nothing gets by,
Tinker’s nose.
.
Is that another dog.
That smell on you?
Her radar nose,
Picked up that clue.
.
When it’s time to eat,
She always knows.
Like Pinocchio,
Her nose- it grows.
.
And when we walk,
Her nostrils flare.
So many smells,
No time to spare.
.
Resisting your tug,
This spot so sweet.
It must reminder her,
Of a special treat.

Something smells wrong,
You can see it in her eyes.
You’re leaving her behind?
She sees through any disguise.

She’s very smart,
Her nose – it knows.
Wherever you proceed,
Her hope – she Goes.

Your bags are packed,
Her nose starts to twitch.
At first you think,
Just another itch.

But her nose,
Has a brain.
Her intuition,
Senses pain.

She’s staying home,
You say good-bye.
In her eyes,
She’s asking why?
.
Her nose suspects,
Any separation.
She too deserves,
To join the vacation.

If there’s indication,
That you will stray.
Her stink detector,
Gets in the way.

Whatever thought,
Tinker knows.
Nothing gets by,
Tinker’s nose.

Creature Features: Revenge #312

October 24, 2017 / mikeljohnston1 / 1 Comment

Frankie is the name of our female cat that we bought together just before we got married. She was the first pet that I ever had an investment in owning. She’s a beautiful, white-haired Burmese with bright blue eyes – hence the “Old Blue Eyes” moniker. Frankie is “Sweet Sixteen,” but has found some “Evil Ways.” Whenever we travel, we always hire someone to stay with her and the dogs, and when we return, revenge seems to be on her mind.

She’s been especially bad this past week, and we’re hoping that it’s not a kidney condition. When I got up the other morning, she promptly peed on the sheets. We then scrambled to get all the bed covers in the washer and treated the mattress. She also left a turd in my wife’s bathtub to let us know that it wasn’t just me she was after. However, the next day, she went into my office and peed on the chair. Once again, it was Spot Shot to the rescue. I can deal with her hair-balls, and an occasional dried turd that gets matted in her hair, but revengeful urine stains are not acceptable. Bad Kitty!

I took Frankie to the Vet yesterday. Hopefully, she doesn’t think that it was revenge on my part and cause for further retaliation on her part. She’s a fluffy twenty-five pounds, barely fits in her kitty carrier, and cries non-stop whenever she’s trapped in there, including some lengthy cross-country moves. Frankie has now lived in Indiana, Illinois, Texas, and Oregon, so she’s well traveled but clearly upset when she’s on the go. You would hardly know that she’s around most days, hidden comfortably under our bed, but becomes quite vocal, like clockwork, when it’s feeding time.

Our “Fat Cat” has earned the respect of our similar-sized dogs, even though Tally still tries to taunt her. Frankie has a pretty good right-cross punch, and bats our dogs away with ease. She’s very comfortable with Tinker, but initially joined our household with only one bigger dog named Belle and several other kitties that she has since outlived. Frankie no longer is part of a kitty committee, and now a solo act, but managed to tolerate two cousin kitties that stayed with us for awhile.

We’ve been racking up some Vet bills of late. Tinker alone takes two liquid doses of antibiotics, two tablets for allergies, an eye salve, and bacteria swabs daily, not to mention a monthly heartworm preventative. It’s a good thing that Tinker isn’t revengeful, especially after several weeks of trying to cram tablets down her throat that she would somehow hide and spit out later. We eventually paid to have these pills liquefied, so they were more tolerable to ingest. I made the mistake of trying to hide them in her food, and now she won’t eat without carefully inspecting each kibble to make sure it’s not a disguised bitter pill. Needless to say, I’ve made too many trips to the Vets and our credit card is getting worn out. Tally usually goes along for the ride, but so far she’s remained healthy, happy, and drug free. Tally runs and hides when it’s time for her heartworm medication and fights to keep it out of her mouth. As the low-cost pet, she’s now the “Good Dog.”

We have a bedtime tradition called “Ham Time,” although it’s really healthier turkey that we now feed them. It accelerates the last outing for the dogs each night in anticipation of their special nightcap. They do their business outside quickly and then stand by the refrigerator, waiting for their meat treat. Frankie is also impatiently pacing as I bring the pups in from their final walk of the day, waiting for her portion of turkey goodness. You would think it’s Thanksgiving every night at our house – if only the pills went down as easy.

Extra loads of wash, dry cleaning bills, grooming, stain remover, walks, trips to the Vets, medication, turkey slices, chews, treats, doggy bags, kitty litter, and food are the price we pay for our pets. However, even though I complain about it, these pets are well worth it. They are now my only co-workers, and retirement life would be lonely without them. The get all excited when they hear my wife’s car coming up the driveway, and sit by the garage door anxiously waiting to see her. I’m happy to see her, too, although not always as expressive as they are.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Origin #309

October 21, 2017 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

“Where do we come from? Where are we going?” These are the questions posed in the new Dan Brown thriller, Origin. I enjoy his books because they incorporate mystery, treasure, history, religion, literature, symbolism, cryptography, and travel. At least three of his novels have been made into movies, including Angels & Demons, The Da Vinci Code, and Inferno, exploring landmarks in Rome, Paris, London, and Washington D.C. – all cities where I have already traveled, as seen through the eyes of his Harvard University symbologist Robert Langdon. Langdon also appears in the Lost Symbol that also takes place in our nation’s capital, but has yet to be made into a film. His first novels, Digital Fortress that takes place in Seville with main character Susan Fletcher, NSA’s Head Cryptographer, and Deception Point that explores extraterrestrial life along the Milne Ice Shelf failed to sell. However, Origin, his newest creation, takes Robert Langdon to Barcelona, Spain and focuses on the works of architect Antoni Gaudi is at the top of the best sellers. I was not familiar with Gaudi’s bizarre style and have not been to Barcelona or any other part of Spain, so I’ve added a couple of lines to my always growing bucket list.

I especially love how Brown blends together fiction and carefully researched history. All of his books are great stories, but I also leave with a sense of learning about the past. He makes history interesting just like Bill O’Reilly, who surprisingly does not incorporate his politics into his stories. Killing England, that I read just prior to Origin, was an eye-opening perspective on the Revolutionary War. They are both books that make you think, and motivate you to learn more. The free time associated with retirement has given me an opportunity to expand my knowledge of the past, through books and documentaries. Unfortunately, my mind doesn’t seem to retain this information for long, just another reason to write things down. I next hope to finish the Civil War documentary from Ken Burns. I’ve started watching it on Netflix, but it’s another major time commitment.

On a totally different subject, the fall colors seem especially beautiful this year, reminiscent of the Midwest. Is this just because I didn’t take the time to notice it during those working years? Maybe the rain hasn’t been heavy enough to strip the trees of their leaves yet? Or, maybe I just see a little more daylight now, since I’m not involved in a dark work commute, or working in an area without windows? Could it be that I’m learning to smell the roses? I give myself credit for noticing the beauty of Fall in the Northwest, despite the rain. We’ll be back from New York in time to greet the trick-or-treaters. As I think of costumes, I fondly recall my last attempt to dress-up for a Halloween party. My wife’s neighbor back in Indianapolis invited us to a party, while we were just dating. She posed as Betty Crocker, dressed in an apron and carried a rolling pin, while I wore a chef’s hat, dressed completely in white, including white-face and scarf. Then I stuffed a pillow under my chef’s jacket to magically transform myself into fat-tummied, Poppin’ Fresh, the Pillsbury Dough Boy. I might have even taunted a few of the other guests by saying, “Go ahead – Poke Me! Or are you afraid I’m Casper the Friendly Ghost? Hoo-Hoo!” We’ve never been invited to another costume party, so it’s not “where we are going.”

Retirement is not without Hassles: Old Fashioned #308

October 20, 2017 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

This afternoon’s “Leadership Meeting” went well. We’re not really sure how many participants it takes to form a “Leadership Convention,” but the most that have attended at one meeting has been six. I’m the self-proclaimed leader of organizing these weekly leadership meetings. Most of the attendees are former business leaders, but we do include a couple of current workplace leaders to remind us how good it is to be retired. It also keeps us up to date on the state of the current work environment, so we don’t get completely out of touch with the business world. We often talk about comings and goings, which include those who unfortunately pass away, as we enter the obituary stage of life – where we check the daily obituaries to make sure that we’re not in there. I mentioned to the other attendees today that a former Indianapolis business leader, a former radio station General Manager, lost his battle with cancer earlier this week at the disturbing age of 66 – my age. It makes you feel very vulnerable, and you can only joke about it, while feeling fortunate to still be alive.

I still having trouble remembering to use only one space between sentences, having the old-fashioned way of including two spaces exposed in a recent article. My wife also pointed out that I was wasting paper, shelf space, and binders to print copies of this blog. My old fashioned way of thinking does not allow me to trust the cloud, preferring to have a printed record of each of my blog posts. I’m probably also a bit vain, thinking that my son might someday want a copy of my musings. I would love to have a written diary or a record from my mom and dad, even though they did leave me an overabundance of family and personal photos. My sister has my dad’s war diary somewhere in her possession, but has yet to find it. Even though these hand-me-downs weren’t meaningful a few years ago, I’m glad I didn’t dispose of them. I feel that part of retirement is taking the time to organize family history, and to write about personal experiences, hoping they just might be interesting to others.

The Cubs have been eliminated, so that gives me less to write about. It was a great season, filled with hope about back-to-back good fortune, The Dodgers put an end to that pipe dream, but gave themselves a chance to end their own 29-year drought of not winning a World Series. The Houston Astros are currently avoiding potential elimination by the Yankees as I write. Watching baseball provides a great opportunity to multi-task, not having to totally focus on the screen. You can even many times take a nap and not miss a thing.

My wife came home and took a nap after a long week of work. It reminded me that the weekend is here. It’s still hard to believe that I no longer have to look forward to them, with the exception of spending more time with her. I didn’t even know it was Friday today until I had to dodge some neighborhood trash containers during my run this morning. Hopefully, the rain will hold off and the dogs will get a little more exercise this weekend. They are not as content as I am to hang around the house all day, and look forward to their weekend jaunts through the nearby park. Happy weekend everyone who’s not retired!