Sunday, October 27, 2013

Chairs that love too much

Cookie is in mourning.

My chair, that I have had since 1986, and reupholstered twice, is terminally ill and it can't be saved.

My mother bought the chair for me after two friends and I were run over by a drunk driver on Columbus' North High Street the night before the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster.  Ironically, we were on our way to a bartending class offered through the university's now defunct CAP program.

Luckily, our injuries were minimal.  None us broke bones.  But it screwed up my back muscles.  And my mother decided I needed a decent chair to sit in.  So I picked out a timeless Lane Furniture club chair and she picked $438 out of her purse.

Its the chair that I have sat in for watching TV and reading the paper everyday that I have been at home since it was delivered 27 years ago. It's the chair where I sat after hearing that my father died, and the chair where I ate a sandwich after coming home from mother's death three years ago.  And last month two years after its latest reupholstering, the frame cracked.  It would cost more to fix it than buy a six chairs of its original purchase amount.

Nothing lasts forever, still, it's a blow.  So I have shoved a brick under it and we went shopping for a new chair.

I have three demands of upholstered furniture.  First, the seat and back cushions have to be reversible,  it must be comfortable and three, the frame has to be sturdy. The way I look at it, in 27 years I'll be 78, and I won't want to shop for a new chair, so this thing is going to have to last.  I don't care what it looks like, but the three qualifiers have to be met.

So for the past week I have been chair shopping.  And with my three "things" that I need from the chair, I have been to a lot of furniture stores.  And I have been sitting in a lot of chairs.  Sorta like five days of doing squats.

A lot of moderately priced upholstered furniture these days somehow manages to sew the back cushion to the chair.  We found chairs that were comfortable, but that back cushion scared me off because you can't turn it.  Besides Kevin would discover it and it would become his personal hammock back there.

A lot of chairs fit into three categories:

1) Uncomfortable - these are the chairs that aren't made for humans of average height.  They are made for people seven foot or taller.  Then there are the chairs made for people 5'1" or shorter.

2) The chair that doesn't want anyone to sit in them.  These are the chairs cause you to get up as soon as you sit down.  Either the stuffing is awkward, or worse, are so high style that they were designed for people who would rather look at their avant garde furniture than sit in it.

3) And then there are the chairs that love too much.  These are chairs that suck you in, way in.  Either the sides are too high and the seat is too low, or their are sprung to soft, or worse, their cushions are stuffed with 100 angel goose down, pluck from the behinds of geese who are feed a strict diet of grains selected by the virgin girls imbued with a godly sense of luxury.  These chairs are also impossible to get out of.

I sat in chairs that cost as much as the old chair did, and I sat my fanny down into a $5,000 chair just to see what it felt like, and honestly, it was about as uncomfortable as the $450 dollar chair, except it was covered in ostrich.

We finally ended up at Ethan Allen, where we bought our sofa, and found a chair that fit well, the cushions were reversible and the frame is all hardwoods.  Sucker weighs more than I could lift.  And I figured if I was going this far, I splurged and selected an "S" fabric that added $800 (durable AND beautiful) to the price of the thing.  It's very lodgy looking and compliments the sofa.

And the old chair?  It will go and live in the sun room until I can bear to part with it.  We have two months with one and other left and if the frame goes a bit more, I can always shove another brick under it. Still, in the long run, I'll miss it.  It was the old friend that was always welcoming, comforting and consoling.   But in the end it isn't a person with feelings. People tend to assign human feelings to things that are inanimate that they love because with like to be loved by the things we love.

So the chair has no feelings, or knowledge of me, or the future. So this is all about me and my ability to give up something and move on.  I'll make it.  Unless life is scripted by Steven King, and then it would love me too much and be my number one fan.  And lets hope that , a chair that loves too much, never comes to pass, or comes for me.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

I picked the most interesting person I could think of for the guess who.

This is the fun part of the game that we play when a blogger reveals who it is that we have asked you to guess.

First, lets take a look at the picture again from the other day:

Just look at that angelic face!  Those brilliant true blue eyes.  That lush head of hair.  The bee stung lips.

And about later...

...during his "gold chain years...

...and during his appearances on Dallas...

...And he worked steadily in small roles in film and TV.

In between he started a couple businesses, which he sold and became a millionaire on the proceeds.

And then, he did an audition for a Bondesque role for a commercial.  Not so much spy, but a man with a way with women.  And it earned him a title...

"He once had an awkward moment - just to see how it felt."

The Most Interesting Man in The World, a role played by actor Jonathan Goldsmith.  His accent?  Modeled on distinct speech of his sailing partner, actor Fernando Lamas.

Since no one won, I will tip my hat at DREWBIE because he looked it up, but never ruined it for others.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Shall we play the game, again?

Below is a picture of someone...

I just want to run my hands through his hair, and kiss those fabulous lips, as they are in the picture. 

HINT: He wore a red shirt on Star Trek, the television series, and he has been in commercial films. 

Your job is to guess who this, in the comments section below, is AFTER you read the rules:

1) If you know for certain who it is, hands down, immediately, wait a little while so people can guess.  Its part of the fun. 

2) If you take the image and run it through an image identifier, and then say you know, then you have already lost.  I may not know that you did that, but you know.  And only someone with fragile ego and a small penis would do so.  And you have to live with yourself.  I don't, but you do. 

3) The winner gets an accolade at the unveiling in a couple days. 

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Good news on the shrink front!

We are happy to report that we have found a new shrink and we are sympatico.  No bullshit kind of guy.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

I'm a ramblin' man

At least someone has some excitement in their lives.

Since it's been a while, I thought I would just kind of use DHTiSH to just kind of ramble...

Out of Town Visitors

The husband's brother and sister came for a visit - their first since we've moved here.  We were able to turn my office into a guest room - we had our doubts given its small size and layout, but the inflatable twin just snuggled into the slight alcove of the room.   We gave that room to BiL.

SiL got the Husband's office and the inflatable queen platform bed, which meant the dogs slept with us, which means we got little or no sleep.  Kevin is a bed hog and rocky will just pounce on you in the middle of the night like a cat will.

The visit was really wonderful, and not just because they can read this (if they can find it) but because they have hosted us every time we go out and it was nice to take care of them for once.  And I really like them both, which makes it fun as well.

But that brings me to...

It Rained All Weekend

We had all sorts of plans for them, including a segway tour of Baltimore.  Well the weather, AND the Baltimore Marathon got in the way by closing streets everywhere.

First it rained and rained and rained and rained some more.  The sun would poke itself through the clouds to remind us that it was still there, and then it would start to rain anew.

It rained in the morning, afternoon and evening, and for good measure, it rained all night, too.

And when did it stop? It stopped when the BiL and SiL left to fly back to Boston.

The Baltimore Marathon doesn't have a winners purse - no big money for those who win, just glory and a mylar blanket.  So the Kenyon's don't bother to enter.  Seriously, that is what they said on the news.  So the winner this year, out of 16,000 runners was a local Owings Mills high school teacher, which I thought was kinda cool.

While we were sad to see the BiL and the SiL go, we could get in back into our behavioral patterns of farting and belching in our own house.  I for one was happy I could get back to my computer again...

Until the Computer Broke

Thats right chicken's, more computer angst.

When I was having the operating system reloaded in August, the computer geek said he was concerned about my Power button on the Dell, because it didn't work for him.  Well it worked fine for me.  And so did the computer for that matter until I pressed the On button this morning and it just went "click" and nothing happened. And over twenty minutes of plugging, unplugging and replugging things nothing from the computer.  The power supply was fine, but so much as a beep.

I am happy to report that I remained calm and didn't freak out.  I knew it was a hardware issue and that meant my data was safe.  And my last backup was last month, so I would just lose a little bit of stuff, not a lot.

So we unhooked it took it back to the Geeks and the lad said "We have to send hardware issues out, should have it back in two weeks."  So I begged him to jiggle some wires and try it again and HOLY SMOKES!  It booted!  Upon leaving the store we considered ourselves lucky.

So tonight I'll back it up again, take it back to the geeks and let them send it off and replace the button.

So that is what is going on in my corner of heaven.  Hows by you?

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Get off one couch, get on another couch

Longtime readers of this blog know that I have a bit of crazy in me, part nature and part nurture.  Unresolved issues, sexual abuse as a child and of course the three months of the year that I am rendered useless by SADD.

THANKFULLY, I have worked hard in therapy, which is the only way therapy works, coordinated my care through my doctor and the shrink, and for the most part, I function far better and I am better today than I did in my 20s.

When we moved east, I left my shrink, who I had been seeing a couple times a year, behind.  It isn't like you can put them in a box and keep them under the bed when you move.   So when I got here, the first priority was a medical doctor, followed by a shrink.  I found the doctor that I liked, and asked if he could refer me to a shrink.

He did, and I went.

I wasn't totally comfortable with the shrink though.  While totally qualified, there were some things - were off between us.   I couldn't put my finger on it, until last week.

I discovered that the shrink is in a long, long term relationship with the medical doctor, and neither told of me of this. And frankly, I really felt betrayed.

I shared this with a couple friends from around the country, keeping all things confidential, and they too were a little unnerved.

NOW, that said, I spoke with the husband as well, he too was "creeped" out by it.

So yesterday I had a follow up with the GP, and I brought it up and we talked with about it.  He apologized for not disclosing it and as he said, that our first visit had been a long and involved one and we talked about a lot of stuff, and he was focused on my medical care.  He said that the practices are separate and that neither talks off sheet about patients, and that he 99% of the times lets his clients know.  Watching his body language and tone voice, I could see he was sincere.

So that was one half of the equation.

This morning I called the shrink (because if I would have seen him face to face then he would have billed me)  and we talked.  I explained that my main issue was that he didn't say anything in the past month of seeing him weekly, and I explained how I was informed of the situation. I also said that since therapy is primarily about me, and since part of the issue of trust is about relationships, I felt a bit creeped out by this.  He listened, said he understood and did I need a referral.   But there was no apology for the nondisclosure aspect.

The GP deals with my body, and he's good.  To me he should have disclosed at the time of the referral.

But a shrink is my mind and a different type of trust relationship.  He should have disclosed this.  And he didn't.  Instead he remarked that "Dr. Soandso is a very good physician" and "you'll receive excellent care" with him as if he were someone that he saw at conferences, or lived down the street.  But no disclosure, no indication of a relationship.

So later this morning we start anew with another therapist, who comes highly recommended, from another shrink, who I know here on a social basis.

I bear no ill will towards the former shrink, and I am sure that he is wonderful at what he does.  And I gave him a few sessions with me but that inner voice wasn't comfortable.  I should have listened to it.

So it is off one couch, and on to another.

Monday, October 7, 2013

And they wonder why it never sold...


Rugby Team Shows You How to Check for Testicular Cancer

As part of Doing Hard Time in Shaker Heights continuing effort to improve the health of our readers, we present this INFORMATION ONLY video on how to check for Testicular Cancer.  Now wipe that smirk off your face and drop your pants in the name of preventative health.

And as you can see, Dr. Christian Jessem who performs the ultrasound in the video above, believes in the importance of keeping fit himself.

This has been a DHTiSH Public Service Announcement.

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Well, this sucks: I've got a cold in my toes

I felt great on Tuesday.  Out and about doing errands, then putting in an entire day at Mr. Peenee's project house.  Came home, we ate a great dinner of THE Brisket, a fitting tribute since Tuesday would have been her 89th birthday, got some work done, and into bed I went.

Slept like a log until 4AM when I woke up with a bad sore throat.  And in my half sleepiness, I went right back to sleep until 6:30, which is when I get up on the weekdays.

In those two and a half hours my throat felt like it had razor blades in it, and my head hurt AND my nose was running in a constant flow of snot.  So I stood up, first mistake of the day, and almost fell over.  What the fuck?

The husband saw me and asked if I had a dream in which I was run over by a truck, because it looked like I had been run over (ha, hah) and I started blowing my nose.

And the crap, which was clear, would not stop running out of my nose.  In fact, I went through a full box of Kleenex by noon.

So I willed myself to get in the car and drive to the nearest health food store where I got a bottle of Thayer's Slippery Elm Bark lozenges, because they are the only thing to relieve the pain of a sore throat (seriously, if you have never had these, go get them NOW.  They make your throat feel wonderful without numbing your mouth. I also picked up a box of Coldcalm to help with the runny nose.  By late afternoon I was feeling a bit better.

I have since spoken with a couple neighbors who have said "It's going around," thus confirming that it finally got to me.

Well, now my snot is the color of butter.  Yay!  I'm brewing up a batch of lung butter!

Grandma, my mother's mother, used to say that a cold that comes on fast and strong can leave just as quick.  She said that cold has three places to visit, namely your throat, your head and your chest.  Yesterday was the sore throat, now its mostly gone.  And my head is blocked up, so this shit should move to my chest tomorrow.

And this is the tricky part, because as we know, when it gets to your chest, that's when the two weeks of coughing start.

I'm afraid of products containing acetaminophen because of the liver damage (seriously folk, that shit can kill you), so Nyquil is not an option at all.

So I found Grandma's cookbook, the one that isn't arranged in any fashion, and I found her cough remedies:

Option one, the Turpentine Stupe - "soak a flannel cloth in near boiling water for five minutes.  Wring out as much water as possible.  Dip the cloth in a bowl of turpentine, and then quickly apply this to the chest.  Leave on for five minutes.  Then wash."  Now that's a nonstarter.  And why five minutes in the hot water?  Why not ten or twenty minutes?  I guess the washing helps to remove the layer of skin that turpentine loosened.

Option two, the Vicks treatment - "Before bed, coat the undersides of the bare feet with Vicks Vapo-Rub.  Put on heavy socks and spend the night in bed with the socks on."  Now this I have done and it WORKS.  No idea why.  But no coughing.

Option three, and I kid you not, "As pharmacist for cough syrup with codeine.  Take as labeled."

Now, grandma has been dead for 40 years, and somethings have changed in the world. Since options one and three are out of the question, then its to number two we go.  Problem is the dogs won't come near me when I've been mentholated.

Hope you weekend will be more fun that mine.  Keep away from that turpentine stupe - sounds dreadful.