Can You Hear This?

Back in the day, there were seasons for sports. Baseball was in the spring, football was in the fall, basketball was in the winter and then it started over. It was actually possible for high school athletes to play football and basketball for their school without overlapping seasons.

This is no longer the case. There is pre-season, early season, off-season and, of course, regular season. Then there is post-season and post-season playoffs. Each sport is now an almost a year-round activity. Forget finding a double-letterman in high school or college, girls, it’s just a logistical impossibility.

Every woman whose ever had a relationship with a man lasting more that two minutes has been forced to accept one amazingly simple fact: men love their sports!!! Whether it’s football, basketball, baseball, soccer, hockey, or polo, men are addictived to their loves. Sometimes their love affairs are of the multiple variety, but they always have at least one.

I’ve learned over the years, growing up in a household with only ONE television that Saturday and/or Sunday would mean non-stop viewing of whatever game was on the tube. It didn’t matter if it was the home team, the favorite team or the most hated team, the TV dial was set on whatever team was being televised that day, period.

In addition to knowing the game would be viewed, no matter what game it was, I also learned there are some wars you just can’t win. Trust me on this one, ladies, and don’t even try it! Men must have their sports fix and they are much more accommodating to your needs if they get it. Bill Engvall says that men are about three things: food, sleep and sex. I disagree, men have four basic needs: food, sleep, sex and sports. Not necessarily in that order either!

My advice, girls, is very simple. Give the man in your life what he needs. Find out what day his particular “game” is on TV. Fix him up some appropriate “sporting event” snacks and make sure the fridge is stocked with the beer of his choice. Then, tell him sweetly, when the game is about to commence to sit back, put his feet up and enjoy the game! Yes, that’s right! And, NO, I haven’t completely lost my mind!

Here’s how it works! You let him know you are understanding and supportive of his need for his sports fix, and in return, he’ll be just like the dog whose been given a great big juicy bone. He’ll be so appreciative, when you say you want to go out shopping for a new comforter and accessories, he’ll just be happy to go along and carry all your packages. And, you and I both know, once you get a man out shopping, you’re not going to stop with the selection of a new comforter. You’ll suddenly realize you need a new gourmet coffee grinder or some new suede pumps. And, if you’ve picked yourself a good one from the herd, he’ll probably whip out his wallet once you get to the check-out.

Remember, men, like dogs, need lots of love, food and attention. Applied appropriately, with consistent positive reinforcement, it is possible to teach an “old” dog new tricks! Oh, and girls, men…….. they’re even easier to train than old dogs!

As you may have heard, we inherited a big, sweet doggie when my parents recently moved. Darlin’ boy just couldn’t stand the thought of doggie being exposed unnecessarily to the elements. Soooo, he ordered up the biggest puppy palace he could find on the internet and had it shipped to our door. It arrived within a few days.

That was a few weeks ago. When it arrived, Darlin’ boy wrestled it out onto the patio with every intention of putting it together straight-away. Unfortunately, as a result of this and that, it sat, in it’s box, until this past Saturday. Saturday evening he suddenly felt motivated to “construct” doggie’s de-lux accommodations! I did the natural thing………….got a beer, it was really hot,………….. got a seat, in a lounger for optimum comfort,………… and proceeded to watch in fascination!

Since the box had been thoroughly drenched by numerous, heavy thunderstorms during it’s rest period on the patio, it was rather mushy and sort of fell apart once pressure was applied to any particular area. Once the mushy paper had been peeled away, the parts and pieces were identified set aside until needed. It was quickly determined that Darlin’ boy would need one piece of equipment to continue this production……a phillips head screwdriver.

I offered to get one………….nothin’ doin’! He was compelled to disappear into the garage only to return with his ENTIRE power tool case. After getting his power drill with the appropriate phillips head screwdriver attachment, he was ready to tackle the job.

The construction of the palace was fairly quick and painless and I even got up off the lounger to get Darlin’ boy his own beer as well as hold this or that when needed. (I do try to be helpful when I can!) The entire process only took about 30 minutes. By then doggie was quite interested in the activities and avidly watching to see the results. Darlin’ boy finished up, put away his precious power tools, invited doggie to inspect his new digs and sat down to enjoy his beer.

Doggie looked a moment, sniffed a few times and promptly sprawled himself back down on the patio. It was quite apparent he had no interest in getting into the palace. After he rested a spell, Darlin’ boy got up and attempted to coax doggie into the palace. Doggie was completely uninterested!

Not one to give up easily, Darlin’ boy requested I get doggie one of his cookies (a milkbone) as a lure. I complied and he tried cajoling doggie into the palace with the cookie. That failed as well. Refusing to be outdone by the dog, Darlin’ boy proceeds to get down on his all fours and crawl into the palace himself. (A sight to behold that I’m at a loss to describe further!)

Once curled up inside himself, Darlin’ boy begins to talk to the doggie. I suppose he was asking him to “come on in and sit a spell” in some sort of fashion but his pleas fell on deaf doggie ears. Finally, accepting defeat, Darlin’ boy climbed out and admonished doggie about not appreciating his new dwelling. Doggie was quite indifferent to this as well and, again, sprawled himself out on the patio.

To this present moment, I believe that doggie has yet to enter his new palace even though we put a lovely flower box on the front and left the cookie inside. If Darlin’ boy’s feelings are hurt by doggie’s lack of appreciation, he is holding up well. And while the palace does make a charming addition to our picturesqe patio, I’m still parking in the drive and doggie’s still enjoying use of the garage.

That’s fine for now as I know it takes all animals, humans included, time to adjust to new surroundings. But, mark my words, doggie’s garage days are numbered………….

It has begun again, that time of year when I begin to have a surplus of stinky, sweaty gym and football gear appearing around the house. Yep! Since the tender age of 9, my sweet boy, Beau, has been playing football.

Getting him to practice everyday in August, often in extreme heat, as he prepares for the season is something I’ve gotten used to. I do everything I can to make sure he stays hydrated and eats well. There are some things, however, I can’t do! I’m finding that list gets longer every year. (Shopping for certain protective devices is high on that list now! Especially when I’m told that the first trip to the sporting goods store with his father ended quickly because there were none of these devices, and I quote, “big enough for [him]!”)

As Beau is entering high school this year, things are a little more intense. We no longer have one practice a day, there are two. In addition, he’s beginning to take on the same characteristics of a shark. Sharks swim and eat. That’s it! They don’t do much else. Beau goes to practice and he eats, that’s about it. The rest of the time he’s in a stupor from exhaustion or he’s asleep from exhaustion.

Last night he announced that his sweaty football wear needs washing. Since I determined a number of months ago that getting his laundry cleaned was no longer my job, but his, he started getting ready to wash his stuff. Since a lot of the gear is provided by Godwin rather than by me, I wanted to make sure he takes appropriate care of it.

I gently asked the lad what he had put the washer cycle on. Beau had decided on a medium cycle, cold water wash. I commented that it might get a little more thorough cleaning if it was set on a warm water wash. He replied quickly, “There’s nothing on this stuff but grass strains, dirt and blood, Mom cold will be fine.” My immediate reaction was “Who’s blood, yours??”

It’s one thing when they’re little and you can still manage them physically. It’s a real adjustment when they tower over you at 14 (he’s over six feet tall and still growing) and, instead of picking them up and carrying them on your hip, they can pick you up and carry you across the room!

I figure, my Beau, being of lean build, despite his height, is out there butting heads with a lot of other guys bigger and heavier than he is………………..so who’s blood is it anyhow? They haven’t even starting practicing with full gear yet and he’s already getting bloody??! I have a feeling it’s going to be a tough season………..especially for me!

But don’t get the wrong idea, I’ve learned the roll I’m suppose to play. I don’t act concerned over an injury unless it requires a cast, stitches or a blood transfusion. I’m not an insensitive or irresponsible parent, I’ve just accepted the fact that unless it’s a serious injury you have to overlook it. Having a Mother hover and worry is to really more painful to these tough guys than broken bones. It’s just not cool!

So my advice to other football Moms is simple: if it’s bruised, give them an ice pack, if it’s cut, give them a band-aid. NEVER act particularly concerned, especially if their buddies are around. And, if it requires a trip to the nearest emergency clinic, you are only allowed to ask the doctor how long it will be before he’s back at practice!

Good Luck this season, Godwin, may the Eagles soar!

Finding out someplace you used to regularly frequent is “going to the dogs” in the South means it’s getting a might run down. I can remember many Sunday afternoons when we’d have to “go for a drive” ’cause there was nothing else to do. If it was summer time, the drive would inevitably end up on the Blue Ridge Parkway, merely because it was guaranteed to be at least 10 degrees cooler than home.

There we’d be riding along, us kids with our heads practically hanging out the window trying to catch a little more cool air, and the folks would see some site by the side of the road and comment that it sure had “gone to the dogs” since the last time we had riden by.

Anything concerning dogs is high priority at our house right now. If you read my earlier entry “Getting in the Dog House: Reservations Required”, you know that we are currently housing my parents doggie. (He’s the size of a small pony, but very sweet and lovable. Just don’t get near him when he’s got a bone in his mouth, you could lose a hand! )

So, shortly after doggie was ensconsed in our backyard, Darlin’ boy, decided that he just had to have appropriate accommodations and went straight to his computer and ordered up a puppy palace. It arrived and was wrestled onto the patio. And on the patio it remains, still in it’s box. (I still believe it should have come with it’s own construction crew, but that’s another story.)

Between our busy work schedules and various other obligations, Darlin’ boy and I haven’t gotten around to getting doggie’s house constructed. Around here, at this particular time, if it’s said to have “gone to the dog” it doesn’t mean it’s run down, it means doggie now rules over it.

With the 98 degree temperatures and 105 degree heat indices during the last few weeks, and the new puppy palace still in it’s box, other drastic measures were taken. Doggie is now able to lounge in relative comfort in our garage………………in a spot previously occupied by a car…….. MINE!

Not only does doggie now reside where my lovely little car used to but he has accessories too! A window unit fan has been installed to “draw out” the hot air around the rafters and a box fan has been placed on the floor where he favors lying during the hot part of the day. I wasn’t surprised at the installation of the window fan as Darlin’ boy is quite partial to them. I didn’t expect, however, to come in from the garage, casually mentioning that it was a little warm, only to have him rush off to the nearest Wal-Mart and purchase doggie is own personal box fan.

I can relate to Jeff Foxworthy’s tale of his wife saying she was hot while they were reading in bed one evening and him feeling the immediate need to get up and turn on the ceiling fan*. I would expect no less from Darlin’ boy if I said I was hot. I didn’t expect such an immediate response because I mentioned that doggie looked hot.

Oh, well, Darlin’ boy is a sweetheart and I just have to give him extra points for the fact he was listening, a rare quality to find in a man! I can think of a number of men whose wives or girlfriends could come in and say the garage itself was on fire and even if they heard it, wouldn’t move themselves from their spot on the sofa, unless of course, that’s where the cold beer was stored.

So the garage has “gone to the dog”. Hopefully, sometime before the first blizzard, we’ll get the puppy palace up for doggie. Otherwise, he’ll be standing in the yard with snowflakes falling on his doggone head. Having no housing for my car during warm weather is one thing, but I absolutely refuse to scrap icy windows, so be warned, doggie’s eviction notice is going out with the first frost!

*Dear readers, if you haven’t laughed yourself silly in the last few days, you’re overdue! My recommendation is that on your way home today, stop off at your nearest video rental establishment and get yourself a copy of The Blue Collar Comedy Tour and/or The Blue Collar Comedy Tour Rides Again, Jeff Foxworthy and the gang are a hoot and as you know, laughter is the best medicine, so get yourself a healthy dose regularly!

Sometimes life just gets to be too much and the only answer is to “run away”. You know, not the tie your bandana filed with stuff on a pole, kind of “run away” but the “let’s pile into the car and take off for a few days” run away. Once out of college, these type events are hard to arrange among responsible folks. However, I am fortunate to have a few friends that understand and appreciate the value of a getaway and we schedule them if we have to.

One particular getaway involved a couple of my best pals, Honey and Sugar. We decided that there was nothing to be done but just leave town and meet someplace where our SOs, Husbands, children, etc. weren’t. It didn’t matter to us particularly where it was as long as when we got there it had a clean room, a reasonably comfortable bed and a POOL. Our choice was a Hampton Inn about halfway between where we each lived.

We arrived early on Saturday morning, complete with all the necessary “getaway” provisions. They included, but were not necessarily limited to, the following: bathing suits, beach towels, sunscreen, munchies of fattening variety (chips, cheese, crackers, chocolate), munchies of a healthy variety (grapes, cheese, crackers, and chocolate) beer, wine, and various wine cooler type beverages.

Honey arrived at said Hampton Inn first and proceeded to do the appropriate thing………..she commandeered an entire corner of the pool area that included the three best chaise lounges available and a table with 3 chairs and an umbrella. (Yeah, I know! We’re those annoying types that have all the best stuff already set up when you arrive at the end of your long day of driving for an overnight stay at the Hampton Inn on your way to see the world’s largest ball of twine. Oh, well, stop your whining and get there earlier if you don’t want to have to deal with us!)

We spent the better part of an hour discussing all the challenges we overcame in order to be able to get in our cars and leave our poor, needy families behind. Then we spent some time discussing all the reasons we needed to get away from our families and work stresses in the first place. We moved on to discussing all the stuff we would have to do to make up for being “away” when we got home the next afternoon. After all that catching up, we finally got to the good stuff………….

When you put 3 stressed out women, plenty of snack food, copious amounts of alcohol, abundant sunshine, and a reasonably close bathroom together, you can bet your last dollar and win, that the topic of conversation will eventually end up sexual in nature. It’s inevitable. We talk about new loves, old loves, lost loves, or some other aspect of our interaction with the opposite sex. And, since we’re all fans of Victoria’s Secrets, we also compare notes on our most recent lingerie purchases.

Men may lust over the pages of the Victoria’s Secrets catalog but we talk about what we’ve actually bought, how it fits, whether or not it makes you look even remotely like the model in the picture! You have to understand, sometimes buying lingerie is like buying an anti-aging creme. You know, deep down, there’s no chance that you could ever look like the 12-year-old model they use for the advertisement, but, hope springs eternal.

Now, as I said, we had all been wound pretty tight for an extended period of time and we were truly enjoying the process of unwinding big time!!!! The day was passing most pleasantly for us and we finally decided that the sun had warmed us to the point that we needed to venture into the pool to cool off. As we slipped gracefully into the cool water, our conversation continued but, we realized that we were not alone. We finally noticed HIM. At this moment, you’re probably thinking some young, buff, bronze, Greek-god looking creature had strolled into the pool area to laze about in swim trunks for our viewing pleasure. WRONG.

Truth is, it was more of a middle-aged, slight of build, balding and frumpy, GEEK looking creature. There he was on the far side of the pool, sitting at the other umbrellaed table dressed in what is termed in today’s workplace as “business casual”. He appeared to be completely engrossed in this massive 3-ringed binder.

After tying a niffty little sarong discreetly over my bikini, I walked around the pool to the parking lot to get something from the car. I passed close enough to geek boy’s table to see what had him so enraptured. The binder was a Microsoft Windows programing training guide. Suffice it to say, I couldn’t imagine why anyone, geek or otherwise, would be spending a gorgeous summer day sitting by a pool at the Hampton Inn in Po’dunk*, reading a computer training guide.

Upon returning to my cohorts and quietly informing them of the geek’s choice of poolside reading material, we returned to our previous conversation. Honey was telling us of this particularly interesting piece of lingerie which consisted of a sort-of merry-widow, teddy-type thing with garters. The more we discussed the benefits of this piece the closer geek boy began to get to the edge of the pool. Apparently, he was intent on hearing the details of our lingerie experiences as well.

In our completely relaxed, de-stressed (and somewhat inebriated state), we were thoroughly enjoying the description of Honey’s experience with this amazing, albeit challenging, piece of lingerie. Then I suddenly saw our intrepid geek had again manuvered himself dangerously close to the pool’s edge. As Honey’s instruction of how to get into this contraption continued, he scoots closer still until he just barely manages to catch himself before tipping head first into the water.

Needless to say, since geek boy was obviously not dressed for swimming and was, therefore, risking a dunk in the pool as a result of his clumsy attempt at eavesdropping, we didn’t offer him any assistance of any kind. Had the silly man had any sense at all, he could have just walked right over, introduced himself properly and asked for the item number from the catalog.

It would have saved him the embarrassment of almost pitching headfirst into the pool and he would have had the luxury of saying he met 3 lovely, charming ladies poolside at the Hampton Inn. Instead, he just pick himself and his big ole binder up and slunk away in his hush puppies never knowing the appropriate catalog issue or item number.

Men just never learn……..good manners will always get your farther than eavesdropping. Instead of a great piece of lingerie, his true love probably got something ridiculous like a box of salt water taffy. As Charlie Brown would say, “Good Grief!”

*Please note, readers, that I have absolutely no idea if there is a place called Po’dunk, or if there is, whether or not Hampton Inn has a facility there. The location of this particular outing has been changed to ensure that we can go back!.

As a kid, I always heard jokes being made about “so and so” getting in the dog house with his wife because of some “unfortunate” behavior or event. I even remember people having these little wooden placks that had an empty dog house with a hook and the names of the people that lived in the house on hooks. So those that got in trouble with the lady of the house could actually be put in the dog house.

I guess it also served as an “early warning” system. If you came home and your name was in the dog house, then it was a safe bet something was up and Mom was mad.

Today, I don’t think the threat of “getting put in the dog house” carries as much weight as it used to. Doggies are members of the family and if, by some misfortune, they should find themselves outside of their families’ home, they are provided “deluxe” alternate accommodations.

Sometime back, my S.O., Darlin’ Boy, being the sweetheart that he is, just insisted that the cat, Kitty, have a little hard vinyl box sitting on the patio to “get out of the weather” if he was outside and we weren’t home. He purely dotes on that cat, although he swears he is a “dog” person, not a “cat” person. Yeah, right! While other kitties get by on Little Friskies, our fur-ball dines on roasted oysters, tuna, salmon and, if I’m not around to smell them, sardines.

Recently, when my parents relocated, we got to adopt their dog of several years. (Whether this is a permanent adoption or temporary foster care remains to be seen.) He’s a really sweet dog and he’s a really big dog! (A small child can go for a ride on his back.)

Needless to say, once acquired, Darlin’ Boy’s first concern was proper housing for the dog. Off to PetSmart he goes, anxious to ensure that doggie doesn’t suffer any trauma from being outside. (The dog has lived outside his whole life, but whatever!) He returns shortly, somewhat dejected. They have no houses big enough for our pooch.

Now, I didn’t think anymore about it ’cause I happen know that the folks already have a house for doggie and were planning to transport it to doggie’s location soon, certainly before snow starts falling on doggie’s head. Well, unbeknown to me, Darlin’ Boy has worried himself so that he’s done the only rational thing he can think of, he’s pursued his search for housing online.

Imagine my surprise when I get an email picture of a small “log” cabin that is expected to arrive by the end of the week. Email reads, “Doggie’s new vacation home.” I’ve seen vacation homes that weren’t as big.

When I questioned the necessity of these “lux” accommodations, I was told that a nicer one could have been purchased for several hundred more dollars, but since it was just a vacation home, Darlin’ Boy thought this one would do just fine. (I didn’t dare ask how many hundred dollars had already been invested into this one. If I knew, I would probably faint dead away and we haven’t kept smelling salts in the house regularly since Aunt Pearl died, don’t you know!)

As luck would have it, I just happened to be home when the new house arrived. It came in a box. For the price of that log cabin dog house, it should have come with it’s own construction crew! I had the good sense to leave home before the assembly process began! Hopefully, when I do eventually return, doggie will be comfortably ensconced in his small palace.

Darlin’ Boy, on the other hand, will just have to make do with his current digs, unless, of course, the dog is accepting reservations.

If you’ve visited my other websites, you know that I have one on credit issues. It is ProtectYourGoodCredit.com and I try to provide consumers with easily understood, comprehensive information on credit and protection against identity theft.

The most recent technological answer to identity theft protection is the use of biometric scanners. These are devices that resemble the swipe machines at registers everywhere. Only instead of swiping your debit/credit card, you press your thumb against a touchpad.

This touchpad then identifies you by your thumbprint and your purchase is deducted from your checking account like a debit.

Sounds great right! My thumb is always attached to my hand. I never go anywhere without it. I don’t have to worry that I’ve left it in my coat pocket, other pair of jeans or a different purse. I can shop all day and probably not build up a callous from the touchpad (they’re very user friendly, a light touch is all that’s required).

Okay, so what’s the catch?

Since I’m a bit of a movie buff and I love science fiction, I have a little bit of knowledge about advanced technology from a consumer’s perspective. Here’s the deal…………………

Way back in in early seventies, James Bond, played by Sean Connery, with the succinct assistance of Q, managed to fool the the affable Tiffiany Case, by having a copy of the bad guy’s finger print affixed to his own by means of a thin layer of polymer. (movie: Diamonds are Forever)

Later, in the late 90s, an interesting movie with lots of cool technology effects, the same Bond-type character, guised as an elusive thief, played by the same exceptional Sean Connery, managed to “fake and un-fakeable retina scan” planned and orchestrated by the beautiful Catherine Zeta-Jones. (movie: Entrapment)

The point of this stroll down movie lane? If the creators and characters in these movies where able to devise means to effectively “steal” the identities of another person, do I really want to put great faith in the idea that because I have a unique anatonomical imprint that I will somehow be impervious to identity theft. I DON’T THINK SO!

Do I think there is merit to improved technology, even biometric technology, for protection against identity theft…………you betcha! Do I think that if these technological advances are instituted everywhere we are suddenly safe……………..absolutely not!

The point, folks, as the movies have demonstrated over and over again, if you can think up a new and improved way to foil identity thieves, someone else can come up with a way around it. That will never change.

The good news…………..it’s pretty much guaranteed no one can steal your thumb without your noticing…………your print, maybe, but, not your thumb! But, keep a close eye on it…………for safety’s sake!