I’m tired of being tired, sick of being sick and crappy about feeling crappy (that last one didn’t make any sense). Anyway, I’ve had this annual sinus thing going for a while and I’m ready to feel better. I’ve always had a sinus problem and winters in Michigan are no help. That coupled with the inside, DRY AIR, that screws up your nasal passages, and I just don’t feel up to speed. I’m not really sick but I don’t feel much like doing anything. It’s perfect ‘cuz since we’re in Michigan in winter and the cottage and Green Street houses are rented, there’s nothing to do anyway. I guess I could go through all the boxes in the basement, see what’s in them, and put labels on the outside but that would be a little OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder…what makes wanting to be neat a disorder anyway?) even for me. I wonder what Eskimos do sitting in an igloo all winter with their whole families. No TV. No electricity. No running water. No bathroom. Maybe I don’t have it so bad.

I promised Jean I would paint the boys’ bedroom in the Green Street house before the renters came. Naturally I left it to the last minute and waited until it got cold and Jean had the heat turned down to 50 degrees. On the plus side, I didn’t sweat a lot. On the minus side, since we’ve been moving and storing lots of stuff, it gets easier to throw things out so I threw out my paint clothes. All I had left was a pair of old shorts, already splotched with paint, and my Hawaii Underpants Run T-shirt that I had been using at the lake as “yard work garb”. The neighbor saw me painting through the window and started laughing. It didn’t take me long to figure out why.

I grew up painting houses. When we would move from one parsonage to another, we would paint. We would paint the one we were leaving so the new minister would have a clean, attractive house to move into, and would paint the one we moved into ‘cuz the minister leaving there wouldn’t always know the colors we wanted so they didn’t leave it freshly painted. Mom and Dad had rental properties through the years and we would help paint them. The churches would sometimes need painting so we were free labor for that project.

In all those years of painting I didn’t remember painting with oil paint. I’m sure we did but it seemed like we always used water based paints. They were much easier to clean up and much easier for kids to use. In the Green Street bedroom, the trim was oil based and the walls were water based, so that’s the way I painted them. One slight mistake…I always carry a paint rag or paper towel to wipe off spots that go onto the glass when painting windows. I did the same this time and also used the paper towel to make sure I didn’t go over where the trim meets the wall. Inadvertently I touched my leg with that paper towel about a dozen times with fresh oil paint. I now have blue green spots all over my left shin. I didn’t notice until I was taking a shower and the paint wouldn’t wash off. After 7 days and 7 showers, it’s still there. Hopefully it will wear off before spring when I go out running and riding bike in shorts.

I’m anxious to brew another batch of beer but will have to wait for the weather to co-operate. I want to do a batch of Imperial Stout and Matt tells me it should age in the secondary for several months. If I brewed it in January, it might be ready for the second annual wine and beer tasting in December. I haven’t brewed at the condo and it isn’t set up the best, but it’s all I have. I may enlist the help of a couple of Trilanders to make it easier to set up, take down and clean in between steps. I still have to figure out how to run water through the wort cooling coils when I have only one hose bib and that’s in the back. Oh well, I’ll get it figured out. Hey!! Engineering that project is something I can do to pass the time.

Just (Coughing So Much I Wake Myself Up) Jack

I’ve written about the “chaos” that’s going on at the condo and it continues. It’s not the rowdy partying that you may expect. Nor is Jean the workout drill sergeant that many of you have come to know and love. True, when she’s at the fitness center or on a bike ride or on a run, she’s relentless, but even the energizer bunny needs some down time. You also know that I may be “ever so slightly” obsessive compulsive. I’m the first to admit it. But I’m willing to bet that most of you would be going crazy by now if you had to live in the conditions that I do.

First of all, it’s the garage parking. Jean parks on the left and I park on the right. You probably already know that if you’ve ever been at the condo. When you look at the garage wall on her side, it looks like a family of woodpeckers has moved in. There are pock marks all over the place! She claims it’s because she has to park too close to the garage wall so she can leave enough room for me to get in and out of my car. Well, this morning I went out to get in my car and I could barely fit between hers and mine, and with the bad weather and the salt all over everything, I’ve ruined more than one set of clothes. So, being the numbers geek that I am, I got out the tape measure. Sure, Jean was on her side of the center line, but there was 17 inches between the cars. You’ve all seen my butt and it probably is larger than 17 inches, so getting in the car was a struggle. I measured her side to the wall and it was 39 inches. She has enough room to do a handspring getting in and she still hits the wall with her car door? What am I to do?

Of course, that’s not all. We haven’t lived in a place with so many doors that get opened and closed every day since we’ve been married. The front closet where we keep our coats; the pantry door where we keep most of our food; the hallway closet where we keep the towels and linens. Jean swings them shut and walks away. Everyone knows from eighth grade science class that when there isn’t a vent for the air to escape, the door won’t close all the way. The air pushes against the door while it’s trying to equalize the pressure. It’s a good thing I’m retired and have the time to go around and close the doors behind her.

If you’re still not horrified, here’s the clincher. Jean spent quite a bit of time trying to find a wreath for the front of the house for the Christmas Season. She finally found one, decorated it with lights, and put it up on the front of the condo. Since there are two windows there, I assumed she would center it on the windows, which she did. A few days later we had some very windy days. One of the days she laughed and said “Look at how the wreath is blowing back and forth”. Now that the wind has stopped, the wreath is off center and she won’t fix it. We all know that when things are a little off center, the world is out of balance and that’s not a good thing. I’ve gone out and centered the wreath back up so bad things don’t happen. I took pictures of the mess, but they’re too gruesome to send over the internet.

And that’s why I drink!!

Just (Working To Keep My Sanity, Such As It Is) Jack

The First Annual Trilanders’ Beer and Wine Tasting Festival is history and I don’t think anyone had a hangover the next day except, maybe, Becky who was singing the Michigan State (Something) Song over and over near the end of the evening. Pat’s Cabernet/Merlot wine received rave reviews as did Sam’s Three Brothers Chardonnay. Many tried all four of the beer offerings and, although each had his or her favorite, I didn’t hear any complaints. Many watched the Ironman Hawaii World Championships from Kona, Hawaii and most watched the Trilanders 2007 CD which contained pictures of all of our 2007 races, parties and miscellaneous get togethers. The festivities started at around 4 (we told everyone 3 so they would be here by 4) and most left by 8:30. The early night was partially due to the weather and mostly because, since we train in moderation, we play in moderation too. Thanks to all who contributed to the evening which, between the beer, the wine, the Trilander CD, and the food, includes everyone who attended.

I wimped out again on yesterday’s run. There was ice all over the roads and I don’t have any “Yak Trax” so it wouldn’t have been smart for me to get out on the run. Through my 61 years I’ve probably pulled every muscle at least once and I see no reason to start all over again. They don’t heal like they used to. Of course, since I didn’t run, I cross-trained by inventorying and rearranging all my beer in the closet downstairs. Thanks to all who emptied bottles Saturday night. Now I have enough to bottle the Kolsch that’s been sitting in secondary fermentation for a month.

It’s days like yesterday and today, weather-wise, that make me second guess our decision to stay in Michigan for the winter. We’ve had strong winds for over a week and now we have just enough ice/snow to make running outside dicey. The Trilanders, being the troopers that they are, will still run every Sunday but may do the treadmill during the week when it’s really crappy out. Looking back on how bad the weather has been for some of our runs I wonder why we do it. For many of us, we know better, but it’s like climbing a mountain…you do it just so you know you can. Most of us are beyond trying to impress other people with our swimming, biking and running. For as good as we think we are, there is always someone better out there. We really do it for ourselves and/or so we can get together with a really great group of people who like to do the same things we do.

Enough sentimentality!! I know I’ve said this before, but this time I really mean it. I’m going to try to get rid of some of this extra weight. I thought it would be better training for my legs to haul all this lard around, but I think it’s having the opposite effect. If, on the off-chance, I actually do lose a few pounds it’s because I’m really trying. I’m not sick…I don’t look gaunt…I’m 5’10” tall so don’t tell me I’m too skinny until my body mass index (BMI) is in the “healthy” range. Don’t even tell me I’m looking better until I go from the “obese” to the “slightly overweight” range. If you don’t know where those points are, look it up on the internet. If you want a wake up call, figure out your own BMI. If I keep reading Laura Anderson’s nutrition column in The Reminder I may even start eating healthy too. OK! OK! Baby steps!

Just (I’m Hungry Just Talking About It) Jack

Maybe it’s that post-holiday letdown or maybe it’s that I’m nearly footballed out, but I’m bored. Before you call…no I’m not so bored that I’ll come over and rake your leaves or baby-sit your children and I’m not looking for a job. I guess, for the past few years, I’ve been in Florida by now and there’s plenty to do down there. The weather is good this time of year so I would normally be out biking by now. I haven’t been able to push myself to ride my trainer or attend a spinning class since May and I’m too much of a pansy to ride my bike in this weather. Maybe tomorrow’s the day I’ll get started!

I’m more than a little bored with television. I’m not into reality TV shows (they aren’t real, they’re choreographed and made to look like real-life) and the rest of the shows aren’t all that good. After overeating on Thanksgiving, I got up on Friday and went to the gym to lift weights. When I got home I made a sandwich out of leftovers (I’m bored with the leftovers too) and turned on one of the news channels. BREAKING NEWS…it’s a day after Thanksgiving and a whole bunch of women went shopping…let’s go there now and watch them. I turned to another channel and…BREAKING NEWS…it’s a day after Thanksgiving and a whole bunch of women went shopping…let’s go there now and watch them. Every channel had the same old story and, no, I don’t want to watch them fight over sale items. Don’t interview them…we all know it’s a madhouse…that’s why we’re not there.

I’m not going to go into my annual tirade about how commercial Christmas has gotten and how we’re losing the true meaning of the holidays. I guess I’ve come to the realization that nothing is going to change what other people do and I’m better off paying attention to what I do. Maybe this year I’ll make the gifts for everyone on my Christmas list. I know they’ll be touched since it’s from the heart, but it would probably be another gift no one knows what to do with. They’ll probably keep it hidden away in a closet until I visit, then bring it out until I leave. Luckily, during my recovery from the bike wreck, I don’t remember what gifts I got anyone so those can be tossed at any time. Maybe I forgot to get anyone anything that year.

I wonder why it takes a friend’s death to remind us how life can change in an instant and we should live every day like it’s our last.

Just (Still Not Losing Weight But Not Gaining Any Either) Jack

I guess it’s all in your state of mind. For many people, traveling to San Francisco is like going to the ends of the earth. Pat, last evening, was telling us about his older sister who has only left Michigan once or twice in her life, puts about 5,000 miles on her car in a year and has never driven on an interstate highway. Last week I was talking with my son, Matt, about his recent trip to Belgium and his upcoming trip to Taiwan to a friend’s wedding, followed by a side trip to Tokyo. At 60.9643835 years of age, I’ve been to Canada a few times, no farther than 50 miles from American soil, and one mile into Mexico (Tijuana), so I’m somewhere in between a home-body and a world traveler. My excuse is that there are 10 states I haven’t been to yet, so why leave the country until I’ve seen all fifty states first.

I had a great trip to San Francisco last week. Early in the trip Matt said that he read my last e-mail before I left and I made it sound like we had planned a five day fraternity party. As it turned out, we did have a couple of margaritas Thursday night, but Matt was driving so he hardly had any. As you all know by now, I’m hard of hearing in crowded rooms, so I didn’t hear what the four young girls at the next table actually said. One of them mouthed the words to Tonya “Is that your Dad? We’re really, really sorry!!”. I was laughing and getting a kick out of them being very embarrassed thinking that I did hear, and that made them more embarrassed than ever.

On Friday we did take a tour of Anchor Brewery, but it was mid-day so we took it easy on the samples. On Saturday, at the barrel aged beer festival in Hayward, we had a few 2 ounce samples over a five hour period, so that wasn’t a big drinking day either. On Sunday, when we hiked to a pub on Mount Tamalpais, we found it was closed for the weekend, so we hiked the rest of the trail (about an hour) back to the car. On Monday we did brew beer, but neither Matt nor I ever drink while we brew (it multiplies the chance for mistakes) so that was a pretty dry day also. Several people have asked me if I had a good time out there. Maybe it’s a cliché answer, but I said I could have been out there digging ditches, but as long as I was with Matt and Anna, it was great fun. Sara and Rocky will be here for Thanksgiving, so that will be nice too. I guess we’ll have to drive to Florida to see Robert, so that will help us get our “kid fix”.

We went to the Michigan State/Penn State football game with Pat and Vicki yesterday. It was cold (somewhere in the thirties) and it spit rain off and on throughout the day, but it was a good game so that made up for the conditions. Earlier I told you my age, so you would think after being on this earth that many years, I would have learned by now, but I didn’t. All the nutritionists talk about getting plenty of fiber in your diet and, even though I don’t look it, I’m trying to eat better. I like the breakfast cereal, Kashi Go Lean Crunch, and right on the front of the box it says it’s a high fiber food. Apparently my system isn’t used to that level of fiber and it created a copious amount of “unwanted air”. On the positive side, we were in an open air stadium, so I was able to relieve the pressure before I swelled up like a blimp and floated away. Lucky for everyone we were in the back row so there were no seats behind us. Unlucky for them, that’s where the police stood the entire game. Lucky for me “breaking wind” isn’t against the law.

I fought it as long as I could, but in the third quarter, I had to relieve myself. I hate going into public rest rooms and the ones at sporting events are the worst. On the plus side it was warm in there, but on the minus side it reeked of urine. As you may know from my e-mails, I’m not shy about bodily functions, but walking up to a urinal trough, shoulder to shoulder with six or seven other men, is not my “cup o’ tea”. I was able to avoid my foot touching the guys’ feet on either side of me and I did keep my eyes up and straight ahead. I was one of the 5% who actually washed their hands afterward and, while Jean got a cup of coffee, Vicki and I were discussing whether it was worse to be a man, have to go and have really cold hands, or sit on a toilet seat that hundreds of women have sat on before you. The jury’s still out.

Just (Not Doing Well On My Diet) Jack

I just got back from a short run and I wonder why I don’t spend the winters in Florida and get out of this cold, wet weather. The run was short because, contrary to my good sense, I ran with the Trilanders this past Sunday at the Country Club. I’m not a good trail runner and I don’t know why I did it other than wanting to be a part of “the group”. The front nine was, according to my Garmin, 2.23 miles and the constant up and down wore me out. I almost decided to call it a day when I got my second wind and started running the back nine in reverse order…down 18, then down 17, etc. I got most of the way down 16 when my left soleus muscle (the one below the gastrocnemius or “calf muscle”) began to tighten. Rather than risk a pulled muscle or a torn achilles tendon, I turned around and walked in. So today when I ran, the soleus was tender and tightened some after two miles so that was the end. It’s warmer to run back in than to walk, hence the whining.

 Most of you know that my father was a minister so I was brought up going to church on Sunday. I’ve attended often since I left home but not as often as Dad would have liked. I enjoy the Sunday runs and (sorry Grandma Walker, who was Seventh Day Adventist) Saturday isn’t “church day”. You runners all know that there are only so many running related things you can think about before your mind starts to wander. So I can, and often do, have my own little church service. The songs are really, really short, the sermon is even shorter, but I probably have more “close to God” moments than I ever had in Church. It would seem that with all that devotion, God would give me a break on the weather, but I guess I’m still being tested.

 I sent out a note yesterday to the Trilanders inviting them to a wine and beer tasting get together on December 1st. You all are welcome to come, but I’m guessing for you out of towners, it’s too much of a drive. Anyway, I referred to the “underpants catastrophe of 2007”. I really meant 2006 so I screwed up. Just when I was about to go the whole year without a typo. Darn!! Maybe next year.

 I’ll be leaving for San Francisco tomorrow afternoon. It will be nice to go out and see Matt and Anna. I should send pictures more often to remind them what I look like. We plan to tour the Anchor Brewery (brewers of Anchor Steam Beer), hike around Mt. Tamalpais http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Tamalpais to a pub in the State Park that is only accessible by foot, go to a Barrel-Aged beer fest in Hayward (East Bay) followed by poker at Matt’s place, and brew an all-grain batch of beer. All of this mixed with going to some world class (and my class) restaurants and wandering around the city on my daily walks. Since Jean isn’t going I don’t have to take biking or running clothes and I may even take a few days off training.

Just (Leaving Right Now To Go Vote) Jack

You all know that I write when I’m inspired and I can’t write when I’m not. When I send these out, my Outlook Express “Group” is Sunday E-Mails, but I’m not always inspired on Sunday and today isn’t Sunday, so maybe I’ll have to change the group name. That sounds really easy, but I’ve had trouble keeping up with technology lately, so I’m not sure I can.

A couple of weeks ago, Robin from Pierce Cedar Creek Institute called me and said she had sent a couple of e-mails telling me the investment reports were there and I could come out anytime to do the monthly spreadsheets. I told her I hadn’t received the e-mails but I’d be happy to come out the next day, which I did. After finishing, I asked her to send me another e-mail and I would check it when I got home. No e-mail! I seemed to be getting most of my usual ones and Robin had sent me e-mails each month in the past with no problem. I had her send one to Jean and that didn’t come through either, so I thought the problem was on her end.

I was at a meeting the other morning, and the CEO of the hospital said she had sent me some important updates by e-mail. I had checked my e-mail late in the evening the night before and I hadn’t received them. I checked again when I got home and still no e-mails. I worked with Vickie, Sheryl’s administrative assistant for an hour and still no e-mails from either of them.

Here’s where I lose touch! I’ve always used Outlook Express to manage my e-mails and I’ve never had any problems. I checked every setting I could think of and couldn’t find how they were getting blocked. I had still been getting what I considered my normal e-mails but I haven’t gotten much in the way of spam since I switched from voyager to sbcglobal. So I went to the sbcglobal website to see if there was anything there I could check. To my amazement, my “bulk folder” had 17 messages being held. Once a message has been in there for 30 days, it is purged unless I do something with it first.

In the group of messages were 6 from Robin at Pierce, 7 from Sheryl and Vickie at Pennock, 1 from my friend Ruth in Mississippi, 1 from my son Matt in San Francisco and 2 from Road Runner Sports. I spent half a day yesterday responding to what was there if I needed to, trying to let people know I hadn’t ignored them. I’ve been getting weekly e-mails from a company that I bought a hard drive from a few weeks back, weekly e-mails from Northern Brewer telling me what beer supplies are on special, periodic e-mails from Ernie and Barb passing on cute jokes they get from who knows where, and my weekly updates from Congressman Vern Ehlers on what isn’t happening in politics. So why would sbcglobal put the ones in “bulk” that they did?

I’m so frustrated with our federal government sending billions of dollars to a country (Iraq) that doesn’t want us there but can’t find enough money to cover kids with health insurance, taunting another oil rich country (Iran) so the price of oil goes through the roof again, our state government for, again, not being able to agree on a budget for purely political reasons, and on and on, that I’ve become cynical about most everything “big brother” is doing to HELP us. So I believe that sbcglobal has done this so that I’ll get away from using Outlook Express and start using AT&T Yahoo to manage my e-mails. That way I can spend more of my time trying to close the advertising banners that keep popping up since I’m retired and don’t have anything else to do anyway. It’s a good thing my doctor isn’t here checking my blood pressure ‘cuz he’d have me on meds faster than the blink of an eye.

If that isn’t enough, Jean ran out of ink in her printer some months back so she hasn’t been able to print anything. She has a Dell printer that I got “free” when I bought the computer. You can only get the cartridges from Dell and they’re expensive so, naturally, Jean wouldn’t spend the money. She was finally going to order some the other day when I told her to wait. I figured all I had to do was buy a network cable, hook our two computers together, and she could share my printer. Easy, right? Wrong!! I bought the cable, hooked the two printers together, ran the set-up program on each of our computers, clicked on the toggle to share my printer, and then tried to print something on my printer from Jean’s computer. Nothing!!

I’ve done everything I can think of and I’ve done what the programs have told me to do. I can print something from my computer to Jean’s printer, but that one doesn’t have any ink so that’s useless. I can search from my computer and find Jean’s printer, but when I search from her’s to find my printer, it can’t recognize it as a printer. Frustrating!! I’d say something like “I must have been born fifty years too late”, but that would mean I’d be dead by now and I’d have whined fifty years ago about not being able to get used to those new fangled radios with moving pictures they call televisions.

Just (Still Getting Dumber By The Day) Jack 

Some of you remember the story about my experience in a YMCA locker room in Florida a couple of years ago. For those of you that missed it, you can read it on the website http://www.jackswriting.com/ under the heading “reader favorites” with the title “dilemma”. I should warn you that the story may keep you awake at night and, when you do sleep, you will have nightmares. This isn’t a repeat of what happened back then, but strange things are happening that may just be coincidences.   This past Monday I went to the fitness center to work out. After I finished I went into the locker room to get my gym bag and change into street shoes. The only other guy in the locker room came out of the shower, naked as a jaybird, and didn’t bother to cover himself with a towel. Of course, his locker was right next to mine and, of course, he stood facing me drying his hair while I was bent over tying my shoes, way too close to his nether regions. Other than being a little uncomfortable and definitely grossed out, I didn’t think anything about it.

On Friday, I went to the fitness center again to work out and went into the locker room when I was finished. I opened my locker and started taking off my workout clothes to change into my winter weather gear. Just then two guys came out of the showers, again naked as jaybirds and, again, didn’t bother to cover themselves with towels. One guy’s locker was the next one to my right and the other guy’s locker was the next one to my left. As I sat there  in between them tying my shoes, they both spent what I considered way too much time getting dressed. I don’t think I send out any “subliminal signals” so I’m not sure where these guys are coming from and why this keeps happening to me. Case closed! No salty comments are necessary!

The marina picked up the pontoon boat this past Wednesday. I asked Jean if she could follow me down to the lake, pick me up from the landing, and drive me over to the cottage. That way, when I took the pontoon over to be picked up, I’d have my car there and I wouldn’t have to walk back to the cottage to get it. Jean was way too busy meeting her friends for breakfast and, afterwards, having her hair done. It was cold, spitting rain, and the wind was strong from the West Northwest so the 2.3 mile walk from the landing to the cottage was not very pleasant, but Jean had a wonderful time back in Hastings. When I got to the cottage I had a little trouble starting the motor due to the cold air, and had some trouble keeping it running at idle throttle. I took the front rope off the dock cleat and the boat swung out away from the dock. I jumped on before it got too far away and restarted the motor after it stalled. I was too far from the dock to go back out the gate, so I climbed over the stern and stepped down to the dock, almost falling in the lake. I untied the back rope from the other dock cleat and just about lost the boat when the wind caught it and pushed it toward the shore. I struggled to pull the boat to the end of the dock and turn it parallel with the shoreline. The wind had it pinned tight against the end of the dock, so I didn’t want to put the motor in gear and drive away for fear of scraping the boat or dragging the dock with me across the lake.

I walked around the console to the gate and was just about to push off the dock when the engine stalled again. I walked back around the console, restarted it and waited until it idled smoothly. I got up, walked around the console to the gate, and it stalled again. Again I started the motor, stepped around the console and pushed the boat away from the dock. I ran around the console, trying to hurry so the boat didn’t crash back into the dock, and put it in gear. I went about three feet before the motor stalled again and the wind started quickly taking me toward the beach. I restarted it again, trimmed the motor up so it didn’t hit bottom, and turned out into the lake. The “shallow water alarm” was beeping at me non-stop but I finally made it through the weeds and on my way to the landing. Of course, I had only unbuttoned the mooring cover on one side because I thought I would be late getting to the landing by 10 AM as I had promised. As soon as I turned into the wind, the cover started billowing up so high I couldn’t see where I was going. I had to steer with my right hand while holding down the mooring cover with my left. That whole experience must have been quite a sight. I could just see the neighbors telling their friends the whole sordid affair at cocktail hour and having quite a laugh at my expense. So what’s new?

I’ll have my cortisone shot on Tuesday at noon and will not run on it for three or four days. By Saturday I’ll have the left hip of a twenty year old. Watch out Tom and Brian. I’ll be hot on your heels on the Sunday runs.

Just (I’ll Run So Fast I’ll Be A Blur) Jack

When Jean and I first met, I was making that initial awkward small talk and I told her I had offered to make an apple pie to take to my parents’ house for a holiday get together. I was complaining that I had lost the rolling pin in my divorce and probably should go out and buy one. She said that I could use a water glass dusted with flour to roll out the crust. I found out later that the glass leaves lots of telltale lines in the crust and I found out much later that she baked very few pies in her life. She showed up with pies at family outings, but didn’t let on that her mother made them and she always made really good ones. So maybe we all overstate a few of our talents during the courtship period of our relationships, but it’s not the end of the world.

When it comes to food, Jean has her likes and dislikes, and I have mine and they aren’t the same. Jean puts cottage cheese (which I dislike) on almost anything; pizza; spaghetti; chili; and on and on. Her favorite vegetable is canned spinach (which I also dislike) which she eats several times a week, often slathered in cottage cheese. So when you look at me, you probably ask yourself how I could get this big (not portly, just “big”) when she makes things that I don’t like to eat. It’s because we often eat at the same time, but we each make what we want and I, apparently, like food that isn’t on any of the healthy eating list of foods.

I make myself eggs by breaking two in a small fry pan, break the yolks to swirl them around (but not scramble), put a top on the pan, and let the eggs cook hard. Jean puts two eggs in the same pan, covers it, and goes off and does something else for a while. Most women do “multitasking” better than men (it’s in chapter one of the “How To Get Your Husband To Do What You Want And Think It’s His Idea” manual that all girls get before they get married) but Jean is starting to slip. Four times (that I have witnessed) in the last two weeks I have seen her run through the house muttering “Oh s&*%” only to pull the eggs off the burner just before they burst into flames. I know none of you guys will admit publicly that your wife ever burnt eggs, but you know what I mean when I say it makes the whole house stink for hours. That’s all I better say ‘cuz the couch isn’t all that comfortable.

After months of tolerating and complaining about pain in my left hip after running, I went to an orthopedic surgeon last Friday. He says it has some arthritis, which we all knew, but it wasn’t “all that bad” and I should try a cortisone shot in or near the joint, so that will happen Thursday or Friday. I told him I’m not a great “shot guy” but he’s had it and says it isn’t that bad. He’s used to performing lots of surgeries and makes a living removing old worn out joints with an electric saw, so I guess pain is all relative. I don’t expect to jump up from the table and run ten miles instead of the three I have been running all along, but I hope I can increase the mileage gradually without much residual pain. We’ll see. If it doesn’t work, you can expect more whining.

Last year when I made arrangements to have the boat picked up for the winter, it snowed like crazy and it was a miserable lake crossing. This year, they will pick it up Wednesday. For those of you who don’t live in Michigan, we’ve had a run of unseasonably warm weather, but a cold front will come in tomorrow evening followed by an even colder front on Tuesday. The weather on Wednesday should be, at best, in the forties or fifties with a good chance of rain throughout the day. It should be fun. Anybody want to go for a boat ride?

Just (The Weather Pox Kid) Jack

I’ve always considered myself to be of “passable” intelligence, but I don’t think I’m smart enough to make it in this day and age. Without going into the gruesome details, most of you know of my bout two years ago with ulcerative colitis. The doctor told me that I would probably have to take medication the rest of my life, so I have been. It’s three large capsules three times a day, so it’s not fun, but it is better than the symptoms coming back.

Anyway, a couple of months ago I called into the gastroenterology office to renew my prescription (it’s renewed for a month with 11 refills). They contacted me and said the doctor would only renew it for a month or two and I needed to schedule a recheck colonoscopy. You all probably know that I did that on September 13th and everything went fine. On the discharge instructions it said, among other things, continue the colazal, three capsules three times a day. A week ago last Friday, when my final supply of pills was starting to run out, I called the pharmacy to see if my prescription had been called in. They said it hadn’t, so I called the doctor’s office. When you call, you can’t talk to a human being, so I pushed the “4” button and got the prescription refill recording.

I gave them all the information they asked for but I forgot to give my area code (it’s different than Grand Rapids) and I didn’t have the telephone number of the pharmacy they have called it to for over two years. The recording said to allow them 24 to 48 hours to respond. I worried about that missing information all day long but I didn’t call back. They didn’t call back Friday, Saturday or Sunday. I ran out of pills on Monday and still hadn’t received a call but, to me, that was 24 business hours. Still nothing by Tuesday morning (48 business hours) so I called back and gave them the same information all over again. Someone from their office called me later in the day and said the prescription had been called in to the pharmacy Friday at 5 or 6 PM. I said I had expected them to call and let me know which prompted the response “Oh, we don’t have time for that”. I guess, to them, I should have the time to call the pharmacy several times over that 48 hour period to find out if they got my call, decided to renew the prescription and actually did it.

Our house guest is getting better by the minute, although she had a setback Saturday afternoon with an infection in the incision. When Jean started going through the details of removing the stitches, opening the “outer layer” and squeezing the puss out, I decided it was time for me to go far enough away to not hear anymore. Becky says she still isn’t back to 100% yet (not a realistic expectation) but she’s come a long way from a week ago. She worries about causing us more work, but we’re happy to have her here. It gives Jean someone to talk to who actually listens and I really don’t need to hear the television.

I went to a meeting with the new hospital CEO at the Amway Grand Plaza Hotel in downtown Grand Rapids last Friday. The place is quite elegant and, with the event being sponsored by Spectrum Health, we got complimentary valet parking. Most of the people attending the event were doctors, CEOs of hospitals, and some board members of Spectrum and affiliate hospitals (Rich DeVos, one of the founders of Amway, was there, not to be confused with his son, Dick DeVos who ran for Michigan Governor and lost). Needless to say, they all had money and drove really nice cars. With all the Mercedes, Lexus, Cadillacs and Lincolns in the drive was my 1998 Jeep Cherokee with 182,000 plus miles. When I left in the afternoon, I checked my wallet and, other than a couple of twenties which was way too much for a tip for the kid who brought my car, I had two dollars. At least I didn’t hand him change. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head, thinking “With all these high rollers, I had to get this poor b*#$^%$”.

Just (Going Along With The Flow) Jack