It's about time--- again

I have tried to log into blog several times this week, but couldn't get through. Now, I can't remember what I had to say. My memory isn't what it used to be. Not that I can remember what it used to be.

The electric went out again at my place. I found all my clocks blinking when I came home from work on Thursday. I set them all and then took a shower. While I was showering I closed my eyes when I dumped some stuff on my hair. When I opened my eyes, I couldn't see a thing. I thought I'd gone blind, but then I realized that the electricity had gone out again.

I finished most of my shower in the dark with only one mishap. I dropped my soap and there was no way I could find it in total darkness so I was afraid to move lest I step on it. I didn't. And the lights came on in time for me to finish rinsing off.

Then I dried off and reset the clocks. There is some kind of rule in this town that says I have to reset my clocks twice every time I have to do it once. Just wait till Daylight Saving Time is over for the year and I have to set my clocks back in November. I'll be complaining then that the electricity went out a few days later and I had to reset my clocks again.

My cousin pointed out that I could put back-up batteries in most of my clocks and not have to worry about re-setting them.

But then what would I blog about?

Let's talk

Let's talk about the weather for a minute. The other day, the weather forecaster said that our skies were sunny but there were clouds out west. Then he added, "We'll tell you when the rain gets here." Well, isn't that a little late? I have a device for telling when it's raining outside my door. It's called "My Hand" - when I stick it out the door and it gets wet, there's a good chance it's raining. It it stays dry, it's probably not raining.

Now let's talk about me a minute. I was doing business yesterday at a small, local establishment. The guy waiting on me was just filling in for the day. About halfway through the transaction, he stopped and said "You're not Ms. Wright, are you? I was told to be on the look out for Ms. Wright."

Man, nobody should give me an opening like that. I had so many one-liners running through my head that I could barely reply audibly "No, that's not me." Now, I'm assuming that he wasn't flirting with me because, among other reasons, I'm old enough to be his mother, probably his grandmother. He was so young I was afraid he'd wet himself if I answered something like, "Huh, they told me the same thing about Mr. Right. Are you him?" or "Yes, I'm Ms. Right, and I've been waiting for Mr. Right all my life. It must be our lucky day." How about, "Yes, I'm Ms. Right, but you look like Mr. Wrong." Or what I really wanted to say was, "Oh, Honey, that's so sweet of you, but I'm much too old for you."

It's better to start at the top.

Well, I never got back to my tirade on the difference between labor and management and the moment has passed. But just in case you weren't sure, I'm on the side of labor.

The longer I work for companies (and it's getting close to a half century), the more I realize that the problems with too many American companies begin with stupid, self-centered, egotistical, don't-have-a-clue management teams. Even if you have a good manager, a manager somewhere up the line is gonna suck and manage to make work life difficult for the underlings. And eventually it's all gonna land on the laborers.

To the right is an illustration of a typical organization chart from a typical department in a typical company. With the typical fall out from management and the typical workers who just sit there and take it till they can pass it on down the line.

What this company needs is a good old fashioned, across the nation worker revolt. One for all and all for one and all that.

I'd volunteer to lead it, but I'm really close to retirement and I don't want to screw up my pension.

HAHAHAHAHA - What pension!? The Dumass Company dumped our pensions months ago in favor of a bigger bonus for the CEO, Big Daddy. May he be forever constipated.

Labor Not

For today is a holiday. Ironically enough, it's Labor Day - the last good holiday before "The Holidays" glut at the end of the year.

It was poor planning on somebody's part to stick so many holidays at the end of th year, but thank goodness for Labor Day. A day set aside just for American workers to be honored and to get the day off with pay. If you're lucky.

I have more to say, but I'm in a hurry. Maybe I can finish this later - want to guess if I'm on the side of labor or management?

Fi Fi Fo Fum, I smell ........

I smell chocolate chip cookies.

Unfortunately, there aren't any fresh baked chocolate chip cookies around. It's just my imagination, the little people inside my head, haunting memories or spirits.

I have occasional olfactory hallucinations, which are known in the medical field as phantosmia. Which are known in my world as 'that crazy old lady and her weird symptoms" syndrome.

Sometimes I smell something baking, like the chocolate chip cookies. Sometimes I recognize scents that used to radiate from my grandmother's kitchen or from my mother's oven. When the wind is right, I can even taste the source of those scents. I can gain weight from just the memory of those delicious aromas.

Sometimes I smell my grandmother's face powder and then I can see her reaching up to the top of the refrigerator to get her makeup. She kept it there because the mirror was in the kitchen, a left-over custom from the old days. I would perch on the red stool and watch her "put on her face" for church or a trip to town.

I occasionally smell a man's cologne when there are no males nearby. It's always the same scent so I know it's the same man, but not who. Someday maybe I'll find him. Or at least the cologne.

Until then, I think I'll go beat up a batch of chocolate chip cookies - the kind with peanut butter and oatmeal. The kind you can actually eat.

September

It's September all ready. Time really does fly when you get old and have less of it.

I usually like September. It's not too hot, not too cold. Traces of summer remain, unmarred by hints of the winter that is lurking under the calendar pages.

Last year, mind you, we had more 90 degree days in September than we did in the entire preceeding summer months. That's Indiana for you. We take pride in being contrary.

I heard the Indiana tourism community is looking for a new state motto. We've had several in the past: The Crossroads of America, Wander Indiana, The Hoosier State, Restart Your Engines, Enjoy Indiana. I think Indiana: We Take Pride in Being Contrary says a lot about the people, the weather, the culture in my home state.

Not in a dis-agree-able way, but in an interesting way. For example, we could discuss the contrary topology of Indiana. I'd say we have a great lake to the north and mountain foothills in the south, but somebody would counter with "the most you can call those are toehills". And just to be contrary, a third party would pipe up "they're just hills. Why do you always have to make a mountain out of a molehill?"

And a lively debate would follow. Probably for years.