Theatre of the Absurd
§ Meanderings - The wit and wisdom of an unbalanced person
© Copyright 2007 CZD International
Fortune Cookie
Running from the law isn't as easy as they made it look on the Dukes of Hazzard.
Recent Ramblings
- Happy Holidays
- Beale Street Blues Boy - BB King
- I have a purpose in life, again…
- OOOooopppsssSSS!!!
- Lucky Lindy
- Mom’s Day!
- We have a ways to go…
- All My Rowdy Friends
- Ah…A Time To Relax
- Losers
Monday, December 24, 2007
Happy Holidays
Monday, June 25, 2007
Beale Street Blues Boy - BB King
"Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but no one wants to die to get there!" -- B.B. King
The King of Blues, 81 years young B. B. King (or Riley B. King to those in the know), is without a doubt the King of the Blues. Ranked 3rd on the Rolling Stone's list of the 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time the King is one of the best and most respected blues musicians of all time.
If you aren't familiar with his work already - then make it your priority to become so!
I was last honored to witness the talent that is BB a few years back at the Koka Booth Ampitheater. I believed at that time it would probably be the last opportunity I'd have to hear him live. Now it seems I've been corrected, for the King will be playing at the Raleigh Memorial Auditorium this Tuesday night - and I am fortunate enough to have procured a ticket. BB, Lucille and me. Ah, yes.
I hope to see you there!
If you are lucky, one day soon I'll post the pictures of myself - after I snuck behind the bar at BB King's Restaurant and Bar on Beale Street in Memphis Tennessee at the 2003 International Blues Festival. The highlight of my stay - although I don't believe it was considered so positively by security.
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At 3:45 PM, July 24, 2007,
said...
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Where are you man?
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At 1:04 AM, September 04, 2007,
said...
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Knock Knock. Anybody home?
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At 9:02 PM, September 16, 2007,
said...
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Are you still out there in internet land?
Sunday, June 24, 2007
I have a purpose in life, again…
If you aren’t a member of the Big Lebowski Fan Club, I suggest you get your membership application in, quick. You don’t know what you are missing.
If you’ve never seen the movie before – be prepared to watch it multiple times before you “get” it. But once you do…it’s worth it.
The 6th annual Lebowski Fest will be held at the Executive Strike and Spare in Louisville from July 20th to July 22nd, 2007.
Kentucky Events: Lebowskifest: Bowling, white Russians, and cuss words in Louisville with The Dude
Lebowski Fest
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At 8:26 AM, June 25, 2007,
said...
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I'd go just for the White Russians!
Timid -
At 12:19 PM, June 25, 2007,
Chris said...
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I'll bring some ashes in a coffee can that we can throw into the wind (video warning - foul language).
Monday, June 04, 2007
OOOooopppsssSSS!!!
Ops, I did it again.
If you’ve known me for very long then you are well aware of my penchant to be a little clumsy and stumble into things on occasion. Sometimes this is a good thing but more often than not it isn’t.
This would be a situation that seems to favor the latter.
A bright and sunny afternoon not to long ago I was running some errands downtown – getting things done that had long waited as a result of a few additional hours I’ve been putting in at work recently – when I had a little mishap.
The building I had to visit had all the parking spaces filled in the front so I was regulated to parking in the rear lot. (The relevance of this becomes apparent shortly) I exited my auto and commenced my approach to the sidewalk. This is when things went down hill, rapidly.
I’m sure everyone is familiar with those concrete tire blocking thingies that they put at the front end of parking places to rest your tires on when parking. (I know where you mind is going – stop it, I’m not that bad…I think) Well, I became all too familiar with one of them.
Seems one was tremendously out of place. It had been placed at an odd angle next to the sidewalk I was diligently walking towards. Being the friendly device they are known to be it reached out to meet and greet both my feet to say howdy (I guess). Because of its angle (and the fact I hadn’t seen it – as I was focused on were I was going) it swept both my feet out from under me before I knew it. Never knew what “hit” me. Fell flat on the asphalt. My face met the pavement head on. (worry not, fans, the beauty that has been referred to as my mug was not altered – I’m still a pretty boy)
OUCH.
KO’ed me it did. Yup, best I can guess based on the time I left my car and when I rolled over on my back and realized I’d fell I was out for about 15 minutes.
After rolling over and focusing on my surroundings, recalling where I was and what I was doing, the pain began to drift up to the nervous system connected to my brain – screaming OUCH in my ear.
I sat up, slowly. Trying to figure out why I was hurting. I balanced my self on my hands – outstretched trying to look like I had just sat down to rest a bit. I didn’t want everyone in the parking lot having a hoot at my expense – I was trying to be cool. (It didn’t work) Fortunate for me (or not, maybe – when you think of what had just happened) no one else was in the parking lot and no one had seen what happened. My embarrassment was deferred. Cool.
After a minute or so I noticed a small group of ladies rounding the corner headed towards me. Not wanting to alarm them I just sat there looking around trying to act like this is what I intended to do – just sit there and admire my surroundings.
After they passed I surveyed the damage. It wasn’t pretty. Although I was wearing heavy 14 oz. Levis denim jeans both of the knees were ripped out. This made me aware of why the lil’ ole ladies distanced themselves from me. I was bleeding like a stuck pig. As I canvassed the rest of my attire [my shirt looked like I had dragged it down a dirt road and then put it on) I appeared as if I was living on the street (and not to far fetched if you know me at all)].
I checked the obvious – whatever that is – and dusted of my ego and made my way back to the ragtop.
I noticed my right hand was hurting a bit – but not bad enough that I wanted to do anything about it. I wanted to continue my errands. That was not to be the case.
[Note: A testament to my *manhood* is that despite the pain in the wrist I continued on to collecting a geocache find as I worked my way back home. To add to the degree of difficulty of the find the perseverance I showed while injured is admirable. I was able to rack up the (GC12T80) Save-Until-I-Delete-No-Repeat-Season-Pass Cache by TiVophile find on my way home.]
I returned home early enough and struggled with the pain – hoping it was just a sprain.
I was not to be that lucky.
I promised myself that if it wasn’t significantly better when I awoke Sunday morning I’d do something about it.
Sunday morning came early enough. Mostly all night long. The pain in the wrist kept waking me up every 15 minutes – I could set my clock by it – and I knew something was wrong.
Eventually I gave up on sleep and dragged myself from the comfortable pallet I call a bed and decided I was going to have to seek medical attention. Hesitant to head to the emergency room because the last time I did that I spent 16 hours getting my broken elbow attended too I decided to seek medical assistance at the local Urgent Care. This turned out to be the second mistake I made (after not dealing with the problem on Saturday).
I stumbled to one of the autos in my rental fleet (as my friends refer to them) and proceeded to cart the swollen-to-the-size-of-a-watermelon wrist to the urgent care center – or so I thought.
As luck would have it our local Urgent Care Center wasn’t meeting their end of the financial commitments so they closed their doors. This was not a pleasant find for me, as I was hurting pretty bad at this point.
Not to be deterred I made my way back to town to continue looking for another place to attend to my stupidity.
I passed the local fire department and decided that they would be tied into the local scene and could point me towards the nearest medical facility. I encourage you not to make the same mistake.
I scampered into the middle of the activities the 12 or so fire-dudes were participating in and politely asked if they knew where I might find some local medical help.
They sprung to action. Apparently they found the state of my right hand to be wholly unacceptable. I seem to recall hearing the lead fire-guy yelling for the trauma kit and a gurney. Two of them came running to me stating – “Hey that looks pretty bad…” One tried to touch my hand – I suggested, rather quickly, he not do that as it hurt and him poking it would not help. Reluctantly he consented and allowed the paramedic dude to apply an ice pack – to relieve the pain that applying the ice pack caused, I guess.
After a few moments of discussion they reluctantly pointed me to the location they felt the Urgent Care center was to be unearthed – apparently wanting more to cart me to the hospital themselves as they were bored at 7:30am on a bright Sunday morning. I say “felt the center was located” because this bit of information turned out to be incorrect, thus reinforcing my reluctance to allow them to tend to my injury.
After perusing thru the local strip mall I finally conceded that I was not destined to find any medical help in downtown Smallville. Fortunate for me I recalled that I had the blessed device bestowed upon me by my employer – the Treo650 with Internet access. Helpful it was. A quick search for what I sought pointed me towards the closest doctor not tied to an ER.
Transporting my uncomfortable self to the new place was a chore but I handled it with the charm I’ve been known to exhibit in public settings and proceeded to handle the problem I had created the day before.
Evidently the severity of the wrist problem I was facing wasn’t lost on the clinic and reinforced what the paramedics at the fire department elevated to my attention. The nurses moved me to the front of the line, x-rayed my appendage and forced not one, but two doctors on me. Although they didn’t do much to comfort my situation they were able to heighten my concern by showing me the x-rays multiple times and strongly urging me to visit a qualified orthopedic surgeon - which I was more than willing to accommodate.
After much haggling with what to do, when to do it and how to do it they sent in a nurse to place a cast upon my problem area. With her she brought a rookie nurse to learn the procedure. This was ultimately the most painful portion of the entire procedure. Not that I hold the newbie nurse responsible for my difficulties – but she was able to add to it by applying the temporary cast in an awkward manner that created more difficulties than it alleviated. Initially I thought I was being a cry baby about the whole thing – until the nurses at the orthopedic clinic couldn’t cut the temp cast off fast enough all the while asking how I stood the pain from a miss aligned cast pinching the very fracture it was supposed to help with. What do I know – I’ve been known to trip over inanimate objects and break key elements of my anatomy.
All in all I suppose I should count myself as lucky. After all I’ve now learned that I busted the wrist joint – some quantity of the eight bones that compromise this area (I didn’t really want to learn how many as it caused me distress) and that the pain I was feeling was justified.
Dr. Orthopedic Surgeon introduced me to a “floating cast” and explained that in a couple of weeks they’d re-evaluate my condition to determine if surgery was on the horizon of my future. Great – just what I need, someone cutting into me like I’m a pin cushion. Have they no mercy? They haven’t even determined if I’m human, let alone decided if they want to see what lies behind the walls of my outer skeleton.
The removable cast is a godsend. I think. I can remove it to scratch – as long as I’m careful – and adjust it for comfort. That’s where the pleasantries end. The removable part is accompanied with strict instructions from the resident doctor that I manually exercise the broken joint four times a day to prevent it from seizing and being difficult to heal. Seizing. What does that mean? All I’m completely aware of is that it hurts like nobodies business when I perform this merciless act. I’m not sure what I did to deserver this karma but suffice it say it will not be repeated.
Eight weeks of this fun. Eight weeks before I’m relinquished to rebuilding the weakened muscle in my lower arm to the point where I can function normally again. Please, somebody shoot me. Put me out of my misery. [All you dis-likers of me out there put down your guns – I’m not worth the prison sentence]
Now that my problem as been addressed I can relax. I’m on the mend and all is well in Whoville.
No, no I can’t.
Why, you inquire. Oh, please allow me the opportunity to explain.
You see, it was my right wrist that was injured. My dominate hand. The one I count on for EVERYTHING.
Think about it for a minute.
Everything I do now has an added complication.
I can’t shave, brush my teeth, drive my auto, write, and pick up a glass of water – nothing – easily. Now I have to do everything with my left hand – which seems to have a mind of its own. Mr. Lefty does what it wants the way it wants. Trust me on this one – it’s strange and it makes life uncomfortable.
Now let’s add a layer of difficulty to the situation.
I am a software engineer by trade. This requires me to sit in front of a computer and type eight or so hours a day. Not being a “hunt and peck” typist as many are - I took typing in high school just for such an emergency - in case I got a job like this. Now I have one functional hand and one that doesn’t do anything. My employer was not the least bit pleased with my productivity since the advent of this new addition to the problems I have (and still) added to their day.
But for me, this was the least of my worries.
No, my concern is in my day to day life. As you can imagine.
Showering, driving, shaving, riding my bike, etc.
I refer you to the beginning of this informative story. I’ve done this sort of thing before.
A while back, during my younger inexperienced days, I stumbled in front of a convenience store and broke my elbow. (which I also waited a day to address because I had a concert to attend that evening [don’t ask, you really don’t want to know])
This presented me with a strange situation. As at the time I did not live alone, as I do now. I finally was allowed the opportunity for a night of peace and left to my own accord. Knowing I had the chance to relax in front of the idiot box by myself, watch whatever I wanted and dine on my food of choice was wondrous. My preferred poison was as it has always been – Chips and Salsa. The be all - end all of everything. However my broken elbow presented me with a new hurdle to circumvent. Alas I was unable to open my scrumptious food of choice. I spent the entire evening trying to open the salsa jar with only one hand. All evening. I tried wedging it between the washer and dryer and twisting off the top. I tried a number of other equally stupid endeavors. With no success. Eventually I decided to approach my neighbor to assist me – however since she was deaf I was never able to adequately describe what I desired from her and left in haste before she called the authorities to remove me from her porch.
The reason I refer you to this story is because there was a resolution to the problem that came after this debacle that I am now relying on more than ever.
My good friends at DoF learned of my plight of Salsa-Less wonder and remedied the situation for me – forever. And now that “forever” has come to fruition.
As what I am sure they felt was a gag, they brought to me a gift for Christmas that year a Black & Decker Jar Opener. An electric device that miraculously twists the tops off jars and the such without the assistance of the person in need. Typically reserved for the weakened or the elderly – this device could come in handy for the dummies of the world that break appendages necessary for the daily activities of modern everyday life. Of which I am a prominent member.
Since the embarrassing nature of the accident that has rendered my right hand, wrist and arm useless I have relied on this device to get me thru the day. It opens my salsa jars, my pickle jars, my juice jars, everything. It has made me independent again. At least until someone steps in and decides to raise me as their very own. (don’t you just pity the lady who decides to take me as her spouse and then finds she has her own children to raise – and then me as well?)
Of course – for as many a situation as this resolves there are a multitude of problems it does not.
For instance – TiVo. I rely on my TiVo for my everyday entertainment. I can’t – no, I won’t – survive without it. And since I’m right handed, learning to operate the TiVo remote with my left hand has been problematic to say the least. I’m no longer able to sift thru the endless sea of commercials to find the weak bit of television entertainment I’ve resigned myself to watching as quickly as I was before. But I am practicing – and learning. I’ll be back up to speed just in time to have the cast removed and returned to what I define as normal. Oh woe is me.
On a more personal note I have the problem of my upcoming vacation. I haven’t had a vacation in two and a half years. Actually I don’t think I’ve had a day off in two and a half years, but that’s beside the point. I have on my calendar a trip to Puerto Vallarta for some fun in the sun, snorkeling and scuba diving. Guess what gives you problems when you try to woo the members of the fairer sex, swim in the ocean and dive to the depths of hidden ocean caves – a broken arm with a steel laden cast attached to it.
I don’t know what I am going to do, yet – but I am determined to solve this problem with all the ammunition the college of Electrical Engineering at NC State provided me with not so long ago. (ok, so maybe I’ll just sit on the beach and admire the others proceeding with the adventures I had scheduled for myself – but I’ll still see the beautiful sunset – and maybe some nice señorita will shower me with sympathy company).
Arrivederci!
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At 11:33 AM, June 04, 2007,
said...
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You love Britney!!!
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At 3:59 PM, June 04, 2007,
David said...
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Yeah, so what’s your point?
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At 5:49 PM, June 04, 2007,
said...
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Klutz…
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At 9:21 PM, June 04, 2007,
said...
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In addition to being a most excellent gift giver, DoF is left-handed, so should DoF come give you a hand?
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At 11:05 PM, June 04, 2007,
said...
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Pondering other things you can no longer do with your righthand, DoF perhaps will be getting you a bidet this year (a little French lingo there, so for those of you in Chapel Hill, it's a special toliet seat with a stream of water for washing your anal orifice)...
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At 11:08 PM, June 04, 2007,
said...
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Dr DoF says any concussion that leaves you KO'ed for fifteen minutes is major head tramua. You should have a CT scan... seriously...
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At 11:46 AM, June 17, 2007,
said...
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Let us know how you are doing......
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At 9:53 AM, June 26, 2007,
Louis L said...
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Moron. You're a real moron.
I've been calling on and off for 2 weeks. Now I know why you aren't answering the phone.
I think that comment about the CT scan is a good one. See if there's any brain left in your head.
Call me when you can dial again. Bonehead.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Lucky Lindy
Thumbed his nose at gravity
And climbed into the heavens.
When he returned to earth that night everything changed,
For the pilot and the planet, everything was rearranged.
As the sun rose over the city of New York on the morning of May 20, 1927 Charles A Lindbergh took of from Roosevelt Field in The Spirit of St. Louis. Less than 34 hours later 100,000 people greeted him when he landed at Le Bourget Field – Paris, France. Becoming the first person to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean.
Wheels Up!
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Mom’s Day!
To my Mom, all the Mothers in the world and all the Mothers yet to be -
Happy Mother’s Day!
You are the reason we are what we are, you are the reason we try to be the best we can be.
Thank You!
Sunday, April 22, 2007
We have a ways to go…
I thought I was impressed with the 15,000 faithful Pack fans that attended the Red/White game on April 14th.
I’m humbled.
Wake me when we do this:Memo To State And UNC Fans…
An overflow crowd of 92,138-plus. They were turning people away.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
All My Rowdy Friends
Are you ready for some football?
Does anyone know when the first kickoff of the college football season is scheduled this year?
It’s the dead season between basketball and football – baseball tries to tide us over, but let’s face it. If it’s not hardwood or gridiron action it’s just not the same.
Hope to see you at the spring Red-White scrimmage this Saturday. New field general TOB showcases the revamped Pack.
I know we’ll be there!
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At 12:23 AM, April 13, 2007,
said...
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Go Pack!
We’ll be there, which one are you? The one with the red hair?
We’ll find you! -
At 10:29 PM, April 15, 2007,
said...
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You guys are insane!
Good meeting up with you!
Friday, March 30, 2007
Ah…A Time To Relax
It’s already been a busy and troubling year – a hold over from events at the tail end of last year.
When times like this happen – take a deep breath, relax and go on holiday.
There was a time when a spring didn’t pass that I didn’t venture my way south to my favorite retreat – Charleston SC. I’ve been remiss in my visits in recent years, something that I’m resurrecting and correcting going forward.
The best time to explore this haven of historical memories is the spring – before Easter Weekend as that’s when the heaviest onslaught of tourist hit town and the crowds are overwhelming. Plus the local residents are gearing up for the upcoming season and haven’t gotten jaded by the heat and the out-of-towner’s visits, yet. They are at there Southern Hospitality best and often times I’ve been invited into their personal gardens or onto their porch for a sip of southern brewed iced tea. A treat I recommend regardless of how you feel about lightly browned sugar water.
The summer and the dog days of August and September are an even worse time to travel to this mecca of enjoyment. (Having lived there for a period of my life I can attest to the heat and humidity you’ll suffer if you arrive anytime between late May and early October.
So saddle up, pack those bags, grab your significant other (goodness knows I am) and head to the starting point of the Civil War. You won’t regret it.
An afternoon walk through the historic district, meandering through Battery Park, strolling past the houses of Rainbow Row, sipping a cold beverage atop the rooftop patio of a local restaurant on Market Street - all things worth investing your time.
Lunch at the famous Cru Café on Pickney Street and an early dinner Poogan’s Porch Low Country Cusine. You won’t go wrong with either choice trust me.
After the early dinner – well a carriage ride through the historic district, of course. I’ve only been on one – too many times during my visit I convinced myself the cost outweighed the benefit – a couple of years back I was proven wrong with a most delectable late afternoon ride. A memorable occasion – me, a lovely lady, a beverage and some guy spouting tales about the homes, parks and streets we galloped thru. Ah, the memories…
The next day – brunch at Blossom’s. No visit to the Capital of Southern Hospitality is complete without dinning on the secluded patio of one of the finest cafes in the US.
Oh, and did I mention that if you even remotely care for seafood – Hyman’s is a must visit. The wait will be incredible but well worth it – trust me on this one. You can’t go wrong. Blackened, calabash style, grilled or broiled – they do it all and they do it right. At the right price. [And save room for the most delectable hushpuppies your eyes well ever see or your tongue will ever taste.] If you haven’t been it might set you back a bit at first but worry not – it’s a truly fine establishment from the service - to the food - to the satisfaction.
Yes my compadres, you can’t go wrong. And for goodness sakes, when you book your room book it downtown within walking distance of everything. The money you might save staying outside the center won’t be worth it.
And if you dare, take a ghost tour of the city of history. If you dare.
Yes, treat yourself.
I am.
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At 2:17 PM, March 30, 2007,
said...
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Ah... Charlestown...
Yes, DoF and Dr DoF honeymooned there...
Ah... the memories...
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Losers
And then there were none…
The ACC has no teams left in the Dance…
Hoyas 96 - Heels 84
Island Time |
Tiki Bar
Coconut Club
- Lou's Lair
- Basil & Lillyâs Pad
- Topher's Tykes
- Sri's Safari
- Off The Cliff
- Dude of Football & Co.
- Roosie's Garden & Rose Bed
Below Deck
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