Arrrgh!!!

It seems that my entry on June 9th has been a magnet for people who are being hounded by the Illinois Tollway Authority for failing to pay tolls. One of the first people to comment said that he had a coming hearing. I'm glad to say that he was successful in his protest, and has been excused from his fines. But, it seems that he is the exception that makes the rule.

If this is a subject of interest to you, I recommend that you go into the archives and read the comments from June 9th. You'll find advice on how to prepare for your hearing, and also information on two lawyers who may bring a class action suit against the Tollway Authority.

Apparently, law abiding toll payers who pass through the gate rather than waiting for the light to change to green have been rounded up in the hunt for the scofflaws. It seems that the delay in registering the toll is causing a serious problem. Another problem is the number of malfunctioning toll booths. The Authority assumes that IPASS equipment malfunctions and that the toll booths always work right.. It will be interesting to see how this unfolds in the courts.

To those of you who paid the tolls....good luck with your cases. To those of you who didn't....pony up!

We have an old dog. He's been with us since we build this house, about 14 years ago. My sister discovered him and his liter mates abandoned by the side of the road in Central Indiana. DH and I, and my mother were all living in apartments at the time. Sis told Mother "You NEED a dog!" She agreed to keep him for us until we moved into the house at the end of October, and we would drive down to pick him up.

We followed through, and had a memorable trip home. The pup laid across my lap for more than four hours, drooling in fear. At one point I was sure I was going to drown in dog drool. It's amazing that I came to love him despite the memory of the trip.

Mother was the one who named him. She chose "Defer." It's embarrassing when I have to explain to people that it stands for "D fer Dog." It's not that I mind his name, I just can't believe people need to have it explained.

Soooooo.....we've kept company a lot of years. He's been our early warning system. Anything that moved within 200 feet got barked at. For years he's been ferociously barking at the UPS man. One day I finally let him out to meet the guy, thinking it might stop the row, and he saunterd past the guy as if he wasn't standing there. I must have the only delivery person who actually wants a dog to recognize him.

Defer is part German Shepherd and part Beagle. He's a handsome mid-sized dog with Shepherd coloring and a Shepherd muzzle and ruff, and that's about were the Shepherd leaves off. The rest of him is all Beagle! Beagle butt, Beagle voice, Beagle nose, Beagle brain.....and Beagle willfulness.

We've had to walk him on a leash because we are within city limits. He also sees the path where we walk as his personal property and doesn't like to share. Occasionally he would streak to freedom out the front door. When he was young it would take hours to get him back. Now he's pooped in 15 minutes and comes back on his own. We discovered that using a "big dog voice" helped to catch him, so DH is the leader of Defer's pack.

Defer is the only dog I've had that doesn't roll over, or play catch or fetch. He does "sit," "shake," "shake the other paw," and "down, " but only if he thinks he will get a treat for his efforts. This dog doesn't do ANYTHING for free! My stepdaughter will hold a dog cookie between her teeth for him to take, but I'll pass on the doggie breath, thank you.

This year, in late winter and again in early spring, Defer had a stroke. Each time I was sure we would loose him. His balance center was affected. He couldn't trust his eyes, and the confusion prevented him from eatng. He staggered, trying to find his footing, and would ultimately lay in the hallway for days without eating. By the time we got to the fifth day, I was ready to talk to the vet about force feeding him. I was standing in the kitchen, getting ready to feed the cat, and figured it was worth trying to tempt Defer with a tablespoon of cat food, his all time favorite food.

It worked! I gave him another dollop, and another.....and he was on his way to recuperating. It hit again around Easter, and I was afraid he might not make it back. We went through the symptoms like old pros....and again....after about five days, he was ready to resume eating. He's gradually come back, not quite to his old self, but to an easy relationship with us.

While my nieces were with us, we bathed him. Rather than risk upsetting him with cold water, I filled three 5-gallon buckets with water to warm in the sun, and we played with him, sudsing and stroking and making it as pleasant as possible. After he air dried, we put a red bandana on him, and praised him for his beauty and clean smell. He ate it up!

Of course, I know we are on borrowed time. It won't be long now before he has another episode, and this time he might not make it back. But, I have to tell you, this has been precious time for us.

We've been kinder, more patient, more loving and gentle with him, because we know that this time with him is a boon. We've had the chance to enjoy his quirks and his interaction with family. He tires easily these days, but he's always game for a quick trip outside, followed by a nap in the sun.

I'll miss my shadow when he goes, but I'm so glad he's been a part of my life. I hope you all have someone like Defer pad through your lives, and touch your hearts.

I've been thinking about skin today. Actually, I've been envisioning skin. Little snapshots have been interrupting my train of thought, and what they all have in common is skin. Texture, temperature, taste, color......it's really very complex.

Don't you find it amazing that you once were a baby with skin that begged to be nuzzled? You had skin crisscrossed with miniature veins, little rivers of blue carrying your lifeblood. Your skin was plump and moist, with a sheen that was luminous. When you had been bathed, every woman in the room wanted to hold you and sniff that clean baby smell. That beautiful skin begged to be touched.

As a young adult, your skin begs to be touched in a different way. Women watch construction workers with a six-pack of muscles and fantacize away their lunch hours. Rivulets of sweat trickle down chests and backs and draw attention to muscle and sinew covered with skin kissed by the sun. Men dream of tasting, and touching and inhaling the scent of a woman, and an experienced lover knows the value of skin as an erotic feast.

And then our skin begins to change. We loose elasticity, and the plumpness of youth. We gain wrinkles, and blemishes. Our hands look like road maps from too many days in the sun and not enough moisturizer. We show the wear of our years.

But.....our skin is still receptive to touch. No matter what age we are, we never out grow the need to be touched. The warmth of another hand holding ours is more important than all the material things in the world. Who would have thought that skin touching skin is one of the great wonders of our world?

I hesitate to post on this subject. So much has been so eloquently written by others that I almost feel I have nothing to add. But.....I NEED to say how thankful I am that I was born in the USA. We so frequently take our freedom for granted, breaking laws right and left, trying to get out of tolls and taxes, not voting, leaving issues to be decided by others, and the only reason we DARE to do things like that, is because we are free.

Our freedom was hard won. Many of the men who signed the Declaration of Independence lost everything, homes, wealth, loved ones. They knew the risk they were taking, and signed anyway. We suffered through Civil War to end the custom of slavery, so that others could have the same freedom we enjoy. We've gone to war for other countries to try to give them the freedom we hold dear.

Is the USA perfect? Not hardly. We make mistakes left and right. It's the nature of the design of our government that we must come to compromise in all our decisions. Only the test of time can tell if the decisions are right, or wrong. But, underlying every law and rule and action we take is the concept of personal freedom.

Spend some time today thinking about all the things we are able to do because we are free. Think about what life in the USSR was like, or Afghanistan, or China, or in Iran under Saddam's regime and compare it to yours. The fact that you are allowed to say you don't like what the government is doing, and that you want changes made, may be the most precious freedom of all.

To those of you who do not reside in the U.S., I ask that you forgive us our pride in being free. That pride defines us, and unites us, and is the core of every patriotic American. When we shout from the mountain tops "I AM FREE," it's because it's our most valuable asset.

I hope that you all have a great Fourth of July, and remember what it took to get us here.

Speaking of eloquent comments on the Fourth of July, go visit Sgt. Hook's blog. He did a spectacular job of focusing on what's really important about the Fourth of July.

Happy Fourth, everyone!

I was on-line in the office today, when my eyes started to tear up. Then my nose wrinkled, and I started to gag. I stood up to start the fan, and looked over to confirm that Defer was lying in the doorway of the office, with his hindquarters in the office. I've GOT to get that dog off canned dog food!

My mother had some very strict ideas about raising children, and what was acceptable. We did NOT chew gum, burp, or pass gas, and if we up-chucked....we cleaned it up ourselves. I do not remember ever hearing my father fart. As a matter of fact....that word was not part of my vocabulary until I met my present husband.

DH was very restrained the first six years I knew him. Then we married and the honeymoon was over. I should have realized what I was going to have to deal with when his partner asked if he disappeared from the room frequently. He started out letting small sounds escape, and gradually progressed to the louder, more prolonged productions. There have been days when I wasn't sure who was worse, DH, or the dog.

We'll be sitting in the living room and he will shift on the couch, lifting a hip, and sigh with satisfaction. I've developed a series of expressions to convey the depth of my displeasure, to no avail. The worst, though, are the silent deadlies. Lord spare me from the silent ones!

Explain to me why he NEVER does this in front of my mother? It's not like he's afraid of her. Why is it okay to do it to me? You'd think if he loved me he'd treat me better.

DH has a lot to commend him. He doesn't cuss or smoke; he drinks sparingly. He has a long list of sterling attributes, and this failing. For our next wedding anniversary I'm going to help him with that one failing. His present will be a big cork!

Andy Rooney said on 60 minutes a few weeks back:
(for those of you that don't know Andy Rooney, he is a 82 year old US
TV commentator)

I like big cars, big boats, big motorcycles, big houses and big
campfires.

I believe the money I make belongs to me and my family, not some
governmental stooge with a bad comb-over who wants to give it away to
crack addicts for squirting out babies.

Guns do not make you a killer. I think killing makes you a killer.
You can kill someone with a baseball bat or a car, but no one is trying
to ban you from driving to the ball game.

I believe they are called the Boy Scouts for a reason, that is why there
are no girls allowed. Girls belong in the Girl Scouts!
ARE YOU LISTENING MARTHA BURKE?

I think that if you feel homosexuality is wrong, it is not a phobia,
it is an opinion.

I don't think being a minority makes you a victim of anything except
numbers. The only things I can think of that are truly discriminatory
are
things like the United Negro College Fund, Jet Magazine, Black
Entertainment Television, and Miss Black America. Try to have things
like the United Caucasian College Fund, Cloud Magazine, White
Entertainment Television, or Miss White America; and see what
happens. Jesse Jackson will be knocking down your door.

I have the right "NOT" to be tolerant of others because they are
different, weird, or tick me off.

When 70% of the people who get arrested are black, in cities where
70% of the population is black, that is not racial profiling, it is the
Law of Probability.

I know what sex is, and there are not varying degrees of it. If I
received sex from one of my subordinates in my office, it wouldn't be
a private matter or my personal business. I would be "FIRED"
immediately!

I believe that if you are selling me a milk shake, a pack of cigarettes,
a
newspaper or a hotel room you must do it in English! As a matter of
fact, if you want to be an American citizen, you should speak English!

My father and grandfather didn't die in vain so you can leave the
countries you were born in to come over and disrespect ours.
I think the police should have every right to shoot your sorry self
if you threaten them after they tell you to stop. If you can't
understand the word "freeze" or "stop" in English, see the above lines.

I feel much safer letting a machine with no political
affiliation recount votes when needed. I know what the definition of
lying is.

I don't think just because you were not born in this country,
you are qualified for any special loan programs, government
sponsored bank loans or tax breaks, etc., so you can open a hotel,
coffee shop, trinket store, or any other business.

We did not go to the aid of certain foreign countries and risk our
lives in wars to defend their freedoms, so that decades later they could
come over here and tell us our constitution is a living document and
open to their interpretations.

I don't hate the rich. I don't pity the poor. I know pro wrestling
is fake, but so are movies and television. That doesn't stop you from
watching them.

I believe a self-righteous liberal or conservative with a cause is
more dangerous than a Hell's Angel with an attitude.

I think Bill Gates has every right to keep every penny he made and
continue to make more. If it ticks you off, go and invent the next
operating system that's better, and put your name on the building. Ask
your buddy that invented the Internet to help you.

It doesn't take a whole village to raise a child right, but it does
take a parent to stand up to the kid; and smack their little behinds
when necessary, and say "NO!"

"I think tattoos and piercing are fine if you want them, but please
don't pretend they are a political statement. And, please, stay home
until that new lip ring heals. I don't want to look at your ugly
infected mouth as you serve me french fries!

I am sick of "Political Correctness." I know a lot of black people,
and not a single one of them was born in Africa; so how can they be
"African-Americans"? Besides, Africa is a continent. I don't go around
saying I am a European-American because my great, great, great, great
great grandfather was from Europe. I am proud to be from America and
nowhere else.

And if you don't like my point of view, tough. DON'T PASS IT ON

YOU TELL 'EM, ANDY!!!!!

I was listening to WGN this morning. Kathy and Judy, the wacky female duo who command the morning airtime were discussing what protocol NASA should have for astronauts who discover they won't be making a safe return.

That's a really tough subject. Suppose you have risked all to be among the select few who have gone into space, and Mission Control tells you that you might not make it back. You have three doors to choose from. The option behind the first door is to ride a flaming shuttle to your death. The second door is that same ride, but miraculously, you make it back safe and sound. The third door holds a pill that allows you to take your own life before you suffer.

What a choice to have to make! How many of us have the fortitude to tough out a death like that? I believe I'd want to hang on to the last moment, trying to do everything I could, to save the mission (and my life!). I don't believe that in less trying situations I'd opt for suicide, but if NASA had supplied me with a tablet that would make my death quick and painless.....could I hold out, in the face of what was to come?

Another issue they discussed was whether NASA should suggest to the astronauts that they need to have a final communication with their loved ones. If the situation is bleak, and the chance of getting home is slim, should they be up front about it? I followed Apollo 13's trials when I was younger, and I've seen the movie about it dozens of times. There was never any suggestion made public that those men talked with their families. Do you suppose that NASA felt that admitting the gravity of the situation might lessen the efforts of the men to get back? If you loose hope, do you quit trying?

I'd be a wreck having what might be my last conversation with my family, but I'd want it. Think about the men and women on 9-11 who called their loved ones from the Trade Centers or from the planes, to say goodbye. I don't think that conversation would keep me from making every effort to make it back. It might make me redouble my efforts.

So.......would you take the easy way out, or ride the shuttle down? Would you talk to your spouse or not? Should NASA let the astronauts decide for themselves what the protocol should be? Talk to me.

There have been a number of incidents lately that point out what a melting pot we are. The most recent one that comes to mind is the case of the woman who wanted to have her driver's license picture taken wearing a chador. (I believe that's what it's called. Forgive me if I've erred.) In case you missed the decision, she did NOT win her case, and must show her face if she wants the license.

I mention that situation because it is an example of a change in the expectations of those who wish to emigrate to the United States. At one time, immigrants rushed to find a way to fit into society here. They pushed their children to do well in school, found entry level jobs and worked their way up. And in the process, they learned English so they could read the newspapers and understand the laws.

Now, I'm finding that people are moving to the United States and trying to make us over into the image of the country they have left, with freedom. It concerns me terribly that there is less effort to learn English these days. Newcomers move into an area where friends and relatives have settled, and they learn the ropes from someone who has been here for a bit, but they resist learning the language.

I'm concerned for several reason. First, it's easy to take advantage of those who don't know English. If you can't read English, you can't go on-line or to the library to learn about things like Social Security cards. I'm sure I know people who have been sold a card that is free to all. It is much easier to prey on someone who can't read the news, or learn the laws, or understand the political system in our country.

Second, those who live here without mastering English, are relegated to the most menial of jobs, at the lowest pay levels. I don't want you to misunderstand; there's nothing wrong with low paying jobs, but one of the things that draws people to us is the opportunity for an improved standard of living. Why would you go through the hardship of relocating, and not do everything you can to find a job that you enjoy?

Which brings me to the thought that when you choose to live in America, you need to embrace all aspects of American life. We have been called a "melting pot." I've always thought our strength lies in our ability to take the best of each culture and blend it into the mix that is uniquely American. We need our new citizens to participate in government so that they are represented. We need their influence on our arts and customs. If they are bound by lack of language into a ghetto, they fail to grow and nurture the whole.

And, in times like these, where we fear for our safety, we need to know that those who live here will work toward the goal of national safety; that they will support the choices our government makes, or work to change those choices through acceptable channels. We've come to a time when we need to be united, and unfamiliarity with English prevents that unity.

The federal government spends incredible amounts to provide tax information in dozens of languages. I'd rather they provided classes in English. Some states, California comes to mind, are requiring their schools to be bi-lingual. I think the students would make faster progress if the schools focused on English. There should be classes for immigrants to learn English, but the students need to be mainstreamed as quickly as possible into classes where English is the only language spoken. Stop encouraging activities that divide us!

This may seem like a tough stand, but it's been proven to work. If you read about immigration in the 1800's you'll find that those people didn't expect a handout. They knew it would be difficult, and they waded in and eagerly assimilated. I think we need to encourage everyone who lives within our borders to embrace ENGLISH!

It seems we have had some night visitors. Since the air-conditioning is on during the summer, we don't hear what's going on outside, but DH had a tale to tell when he came in today.

We have a storm moving in tonight, so DH decided to get as much mowing done as possible before dinner. We have quite a large yard, so he was only able to do part of it. As he was mowing, he found some evidence that "people" have been using our front lawn to "party" at night.

First, there were tire tracks through a section of my driveway garden which is down for renovation. A small to mid-size car might be able to drive through that area leaving the drive and traveling across the lawn. He felt they had parked behind a pod of lilacs that would have shielded them from the road. Secondly, they left used rubbers behind.

DH thought they may have visited several times before they came with the car. Of course, we think it's likely that kids from one of the new neighborhoods to our east or west have found us. I'm going to have to put stakes in the garden to discourage them from passing through again. We're going to use black plastic to do a solar burn off of that portion of the bed, and they won't be able to see that at night. Maybe I should put up a scarecrow in the center!

We were talking about this as I fixed dinner. DH said we should take an empty disposable camera one night, sneak up on them and click the flash. Actually....that sounds like a fine thing to be doing at 1:00 in the morning. *G* Have you any better suggestions??

Yesterday, I had a dreaded appointment with my dentist. Now, Dr. Becky is an amazing woman and a GREAT dentist. She understands my fear and takes the time to get me through these needed sessions. Yesterday, I thought we were going to work on creating a new crown. I'd psyched myself up for the visit, and even arrived early. She DID take the old crown off, but then she said "Okay, NOW I have room to work!" and away she went. She wanted to work on the molar all the way at the back, and had been hampered by the tooth with the crown. To make a long story short, she dug all the way to China, and I was in the chair for two entire hours! I have a new filling in that tooth, and between us, we have extended the life of the tooth a bit longer.

I can't say I enjoyed it, but she got me through it. In two weeks, we start that new crown. This will be the summer of my discontent, and weight loss.

Sunday, I took my mother to a beginner's class on beading. We both quilt. I create mostly pieced quilts, and Mother appliqués. We both feel that we need to participate in the current trend of embellishing quilts, and beads are the easiest way to start. We spent two hours in dogged concentration chasing those suckers around with our needles, trying to secure them to a practice piece. I now know the basic steps, and it will be the rare quilt of mine that gets beads. Maybe with practice it gets easier, but it was incredibly frustrating, and uncomfortable, besides.

I'd rather work with emoticons. They are MUCH easier to deal with!

You know from past entries that I firmly believe that those who choose to live in the United States should speak and read English. Well, to that end, I think I am going to contact the local chapter of Literacy Volunteers of America. Since I have teaching degrees, it shouldn't be too difficult for me to get the training I need to participate in this program. Ideally, I'd like to teach adults to read, but there is probably more call for English as a Second Language in this area. It seems like a great project for the coming year.

No, not the kids out on the lawn, although I appreciate the suggestions on what to do about them! *G* One of my stepsons lives with us, and he has a long distance girlfriend. She is on a trip, and since she was going to pass through this area, she made arrangements to stay with us. At first, we expected her late on Tuesday night, and then it was going to be Wednesday morning. So, I decided to go to bed and do the dishes in the morning before she arrived.

Well, you got it. She came in at 2:00 in the morning. It just doesn't pay to let the dishes go. We have one of those houses where the kitchen, and the great room, and a breakfast room are all part of an open plan, so it always feels that if the kitchen is a mess, so are the other rooms. I spent some time cleaning up this morning, so that when she wakes up, it will look a lot better.

Dear Husband teases me about cleaning the house before the cleaning lady comes. I don't think I will ever be sufficiently blasé enough to forget that I WAS the cleaning lady not too long ago.

I heard about this on the radio today, and actually surfed to see if it was really true. It seems that a prisoner in New York wants the State of New York to pay for his sex change to the tune of $500,000, and then move him to a women's prison.

The article suggests that to deny this man his sex change would be cruel and unusual punishment, and that it's a medical issue, and therefore can't be ignored. They liken it to a person knowing they have diabetes before they enter prison requiring treatment once they are incarcerated.

If he has begun the change, I might understand petitioning to continue it. But, if this is his fondest wish, and he didn't act on it BEFORE he went to jail.....then I don't see why the state should be obligated to foot the bill.

Personally, I feel that we spend all together too much money making our prisoners happy and comfortable. There are a LOT of people in the US who can't afford TV, Cable hookups, an exercise gym, and unlimited education. IF prison was a less pleasant place, maybe fewer people would be willing to risk going there.

A friend told me today that an ex-con was interviewed about the situation, and he said that if HALF the money spent on locking people up was diverted to creating jobs for released prisoners, fewer would repeat their offenses. They can study all they want in jail, and it doesn't do them any good because no one will hire them once they are released.

I propose we make it a really unpleasant place to go....and do everything we can to prevent those who have been incarcerated from going back. And, this turkey can have his sex change when he has raised the funds! Maybe the inmates will contribute to his fund drive.

This was posted to a Yahoo Group I belong to. It's a pictoral history lesson based on Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire."

Go see.....it's worth a look.

http://www.its.caltech.edu/~yel/Fire.html

Well, it seems to be my week to be ticked! I've been listening to absurd ads on the radio warning us to call our representatives in Washington and tell them to vote NO on the drug importation bill.

What a load of horse hockey!

The parmaceutical companies have made billions off American citizens and they are afraid their cash cow is going to be taken away. Well, it's about time!

Do you realize that drug makers in the U.S. allow the exact same drugs they sell here to be sold for a fraction of the cost in other countries? Senior citizens who are on fixed budgets have had to take the step of purchasing their prescriptions in Canada or in Mexico for years. The drugs are sold for even less in other countries around the world.

The ads tried to scare listeners by telling them the imported drugs wouldn't be governed by the guidelines from the FDA, and that's not so. If you'd like to read just what the House of Representatives intended, visit this post by Congressman Larson of Connecticut.

I have a long way to go to reach retirement, but I'm really concerned that we won't be able to meet the costs of insurance and prescriptions once we retire. My husband is presently on a prescription that costs more than $120 each month. Do the math. A couple of prescriptions could sink a budget really fast. Insurance isn't any better. My mother has insurance in addition to Medicare that costs her more than $6000 now. Think what it will cost in 15 years!

The race for the presidential election that's two years off has already started. You can bet that the cost of drugs and insurance is going to be a hot issue in that race. A candidate that doesn't have solutions isn't going to get any support from the baby boomers. And you can be DAMN sure that they won't get MY vote!

Mad Bull....you're right! CNN posted this article on SUV rollovers today.

".......SUV rollovers killed more than 2,400 people last year,
a 14 percent increase from 2001, the government said. It
did not offer a reason for the increase."

I complained about SUV'S for ages, and then I got one. I love it. I absolutely love it. But the statistics sure don't look good. Nearly two-thirds, or 61 percent, of all SUV fatalities involved rollovers.

Do you believe in predestination? I don't want to, but I keep coming back to the subject and mulling it over.

I was getting a haircut today, and Kristin was talking about this. She believes that you are put on earth for a purpose, that we have something to learn from the situations we find ourselves in. It rather reminded me of the "Quantum Leap" series on TV.

I asked her if she believed that we had any control over the direction of our lives, and she said yes. She felt that it was possible for us to take the easy path and learn our lesson pleasantly, or we could fight it, and learn the lesson the hard way.

I don't know if I agree with her that we are here to learn something, but I do believe that we choose the direction of our lives. Our environments have a huge affect on our choices, but we can still choose the paths we take. If you are in an abusive relationship, you can walk away. If you have been raised in a ghetto, you can choose to study and find a better way of life. It's harder to walk away from those you love, but if the situation is harmful to you, you can walk away.

Most of us tend to fear the devil we don't know, more than the devil we do know. We're slow to make changes because we could make things even worse. "Out of the fat, and into the fire." How many of us worry that we will make a bad choice? Sometimes those choices remind us of the story about "The Lady or the Tiger."

DH seems to make the right choice at the right time. We built a home, and it's been threatened again and again with disastrous situations. The farm across the street was zoned for light industry, and they could have built an asphalt plant there. The Illinois Dept. of Transportation wanted to put a freeway through here just after we built. Then, the people who owned the land 500 yards away wanted to build a drug and alcohol rehab unit.

The truth is....the farm across the street was purchased by the forest preserve, the freeway idea was dropped due to the cost of purchasing the land, and the rehab center was dropped when the entire neighborhood came together to protest. Each time, I worried myself sick....and each time he told me not to worry.

DH began as a construction laborer, and now he owns his own business. On the surface, it looks as though his childhood didn't contribute anything to this success, but perhaps it gave him the resiliancy and self-reliance to accomplish all this. Or, perhaps he was intended to be successful, despite his surroundings.

Despite his success, I know he'd rather be sailing the seven seas.

Are you on the path of your choice? If not, what's keeping you from it?

I was browsing blogs this afternoon, and came across Acidman's comments about love. There were a couple of his statements I was thinking about challenging, but my mind went off on a tangent before I got there. Go see what he had to say, and don't nag him about being mushy.

In 1970, the movie "Love Story" was released. It was a HUGE hit. Everyone I knew saw it multiple times, and there were posters and t-shirts everywhere. The famous line that comes from the movie is "Love is never having to say you're sorry." Horse hockey! (Seems to be the trend for the week....piled deeper and higher.)

I didn't understand that line at the time, and I still don't understand it. It seems to me that if you have done something less than noble in your relationship, you NEED to be saying that you are sorry. When you make a committment to another person, whether it's pledging your troth, or simply saying "I love you," you are proclaiming that how they feel matters to you.

There are going to be times when you screw up, and you can't just kick the mess under the rug and go on. You have to face up to your errors, admit them, and say "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry, and I'll never do that again" would be even better.

We are not static in our lives. There is never a point we reach where we stop evolving or maturing. Each year adds a perspective that didn't exist the prior year, and sometimes those changes are going to bring us into conflict with those we love. And sometimes we do things that hurt them. It takes a big person to say they are sorry, especially when they are sincere.

I worry about growing apart, and I've been told that I worry too much. It's natural for the people in a relationship to diverge some as they mature, but my concern has to do with how much diversion a relationship can bear. Can love continue when common ground has evaporated?

One of the things Acidman said that resonated with me was "You can love someone without doting on them. Sometimes you have to love from a distance." Perhaps that's the nature of some relationships.....the "if you love them, let them go" theory. I wonder if the secret to a 70 year marriage is that each of the partners has their own interests, or is it common ground that keeps them together?

As you can see, I don't have the answers. I know what I hope they are, but you'll have to check back in a few decades to see if I ever figured it out.

One thing I can tell you is the the movie "Love Story" sucks pond water! I avoid all things Ryan O'Neil, now.

The "Q" section of the Chicago Tribune, for Sunday, July 20, offered this information about AIDS:

*25 MILLION people have been killed worldwide by AIDS over the past 20 years.

*80 MILLION people will have died of AIDS by 2010.

*In 2002, 1.9 BILLION dollars was spend on AIDS prevention worldwide.

*5.7 BILLION dollars will be needed annually for prevention of AIDS by 2006.

In the coming seven years, more than two times as many people will loose their lives to AIDS than in the previous 20 years. These statistics are shocking! Who are we kidding about prevention?

Given that we are talking about a FATAL illness, why have the numbers spiraled in Europe and the USA? The doctors have gotten the word out about abstinance or safe sex, so why do people still risk their lives?

I understand about wanting to get laid. I understand about making love. I understand about drug addiction. I don't understand about risking my life for either. How many people will die before it's finally brought under control?

I was reading Dr. D's and Desiree's comments on the post about AIDS statistics, and had a little more to say.

I started what has turned out to be a long term relationship just about the time AIDS was rearing it's ugly head. Each time AIDS has come up for discussion over the past 20 years I've shuddered at the thought of being thrown back into the dating pool. It's difficult enough to be swimming there at my age; it's even worse to have to contemplate dating in the age of AIDS.

I can just see meeting a really cool guy; deciding that THIS is one I'd be willing to allow to see me nekkid.....and then having to ask him for a note from his doctor, saying that he's virus free.

Can you imagine that conversation??

HA.....I was just sitting here thinking about asking that question of some of the male bloggers I read, and the range of responses they'd have. Think about the different let-downs I'd get from T-bone, e-the merciless, Acidman, Sgt. Hook, Mad Bull or Dr. D.

T-bone would give me a witty disertation on how he loves the Petite Filet, -e- would have to check his social schedule to see if he could fit me in between the latest blog brawls, Acidman......well....I'm not going there....he'd speak his mind, and it wouldn't be pretty, the Sgt. (who also loves his wife) would feel it was inappropriate for an officer representing the US, and Natty wouldn't let Mad Bull do it (he ALSO loves his wife). Dr. D wouldn't need a note from his doc, I guess.

Back to the subject. I understand just why AIDS is spreading. There's not a person out there who would put themselves through that embarrassment. You'd have to be willing to accept a LOT of rejection. On the other hand, maybe it's not such a bad thing. It would weed out the guys looking for a one night stand. You might actually find keepers that way.

Hm......Yahoo personals: WSF, virus free, seeing WSM, virus free. Interested in music, movies, theater, and hot monkey sex. Those without doctor certification need not apply.

Y'all know I'm a relative newbie here, and I'm still trying to find my niche, although I'm getting closer. I've started reading further afield, and one of the things that has been popping up lately is the subject of trolls. I was visiting Wazzup, -e's- site, and came across this definition for trolls:

troll /v.,n./ [From the Usenet group alt.folklore.urban] To utter a posting on Usenet designed to attract predictable responses or flames. Derives from the phrase "trolling for newbies" which in turn comes from mainstream "trolling", a style of fishing in which one trails bait through a likely spot hoping for a bite. The well-constructed troll is a post that induces lots of newbies and flamers to make themselves look even more clueless than they already do, while subtly conveying to the more savvy and experienced that it is in fact a deliberate troll. If you don't fall for the joke, you get to be in on it.

Is there a book out called "Blogging for Idiots"??? It's really embarrassing to put your foot in it, and not even know that you've done it. Maybe there's a Miss Manners of the Blog world who can advise me, and keep me out of trouble.

Actually......for those of you in the same boat, read the comments posted to Eric's blog on July 17, titled "Free Speech, trolls, and sissies." It's nice to know that there are other bloggers out there who have more experience and are just as clueless about trolls.

I'm really relieved that I've missed out on the entire Usenet scene. Flaming is not a way of life that excites me. Perhaps I will simply go and read, and withhold comment until I have sharpened my logic and language skills.

Until then, you can expect posts on food, family life, friends, life questions, books, music, theater and occasionally, sex.

As a quilter and a gardener, light has always had an effect on the canvas of my creations. It wasn't until recently that I realized it affects me when I am at the computer as well.

We have a home office, and a second computer has been set up in the living room. Both rooms have interesting light. The office has a window that looks out over lawn, mature trees, a star magnolia, fosythia and a border of daylilies. The shades of green in pools of sunlight or deepest shade draw your eye, and invite you to daydream. Even in winter, when only the bones of the landscaping exist, the light will draw your eye, exaggerating the contrast of glistening snow and tree trunks wet from melting ice. The angle of the sun in summer keeps it from entering the room. There's an invisible barrier between that glorious view and the shaded room that reminds you this is supposed to be a place of work.

The computer in the living room sits on an antique trestle table. I've clustered treasures on that table to create a nest. There's a coffee grinder from my grandparent's home on a farm in Iowa in the 1930s, a frame with one of the few pictures I have of my husband, his arm draped around a fabric moose as tall as he is, a silver wire Christmas ornament from one of my nieces, and the computer. A lamp leaves a pool of light in the center of the table at night, but the light that draws me during the summer afternoons is much more lovely.

The west end of that room has twelve windows that fill it from the peak to about two feet off the floor. There are no curtains. Outside the window is the remains of an old nursery. Some of the trees are in rows and others have been sprinkled through out the regimented lines by an unseen hand. Through out the day and into the night we see a steady passage of deer, racoons, blue jays, cardinals, squirrels and chipmunks. It's not possible to be bored, here.

When I take my seat at that computer in late afternoon, the sun shines through the upper structure of the trees and dapples the surface of the table. The light is gentle and warming, and I want to use the word "bower" to describe that corner of the room. It's my personal retreat, a feminine reaction to the masculinity of the rest of the house. The windows let nature in, in the softest of ways. It's a place where I find peace.

I'll always carry the image of that summer light and the sense of comfort and beauty it brings to me.

...or maybe not so good....

I rarely follow what’s going on in sports, but I can’t help but trip over all the commentary about Kobe Bryant that’s in the news right now. AOL Sports had a column that caught my eye.

Steve Aschburner wants to know if his readers feel Bryant is “morally bankrupt.” It seems that a nationally syndicated talk show host based in LA was pushing the concept of a “moral bank account.”

Do you feel that all your good deeds and behavior accrue in a moral savings account to be used to offset the occasional immoral act? It’s an interesting concept, in that it would give you a little wiggle room when you finally had to face St. Peter.

“Well, yes, Sir. I DID rip off my partner and run off to Cancun with his money and his wife. But on the other hand, I DID organize the annual United Way Fund for Peoria, and I took in stray cats, and I saw to it that my mother lives in the best nursing home available. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Aschburner says NO! He believes that good people do good all the time, and that you are only as good as your next decision. That’s a pretty harsh stand.

I’ve accepted that St. Peter and I will have a LONG list of items to discuss. I’ve made little errors and whoppers, sins of omission and commission. Will any of the good things I’ve done help me? Gosh, I hope so. But, I don’t believe that the good things I do give me the right to occasionally sin. It’s not a balance sheet for me, but an ongoing effort to live a better life.

Should Kobe Bryant be given the benefit of the doubt in his coming case because he projects the image of generally being a good guy? Does that image give you reason to doubt his accuser? Do you think that your life is a balance sheet, and that you can occasionally make a withdrawal, as long as you aren’t bankrupt by the end of the day?

What do YOU think?

How often do you wear your seat belt when you drive? I was hit or miss about this until Illinois passed their seat belt laws, but now I wear mine every time I drive.

AOL took a poll on this a month or two ago, and this is how AOL users responded to "How often do you wear a seat belt when you drive?"

Always 76%
Sometimes 17%
Never 6%

That's a marked improvement. Now we just need to pursuade the rest of you to BUCKLE UP!

I was thinking about the proliferation of creature comforts during the second half of the 20th century. The list is incredibly long now, due mostly to the strides technology has made.

TV and radio were around before 1950, but I think we've just about reached the point where every household has one of each. Okay, maybe not EVERY…but most. TV went from black and white to color, and radio went to stereo sound. The original equipment was furniture size, and shifted to portable so you would never have to be without: Boom boxes, Walkman, Watchman, Disk players. Then we needed equipment to save what we saw and heard. Cassette tapes, Beta, VHS, CDs and DVDs, and floppy disks, emerged, each form smaller than the previous one, so that you never had to be without.

In the kitchen, microwaves and food processors became commonplace. Under cabinet lighting, under cabinet radios, under cabinet can openers, and under cabinet you-name-its, showed up.

Improvements have occurred throughout the house. Many people own electric washers and dryers, trash compactors, kitchen disposals and automatic coffeemakers. We have whirlpools and exercise rooms and saunas in some houses. We have showerheads that pulse, and devices to keep us from getting scorched by the water when the kids flush. There are curling irons, blow driers, and electric tooth brushes, electric blankets and electric BEDS!

In the home office we have typewriters with memory, computers with word processors, copiers, and electric pencil sharpeners. My phone takes messages and talks to callers. We have scanners and faxes and printers. My father’s beautiful slide rule became obsolete as calculators took over the schoolroom and then the world.

We are so addicted to being in contact that a HUGE number of us have cell phone, with voice mail and a built in phone book. Mine might make waffles; I haven’t checked.

Our clothes are created with permanent press to make care easier, and the biologists have developed ways to create colored cotton, so the fiber doesn’t have to be dyed. Some fibers are made with nanotechnology to discourage stains, and micro fibers to enhance fit and wear.

We have riding lawn mowers, automatic door locks/openers for our cars, lighting that goes on as the sun sets, sprinklers that start and stop on timers and digital cameras. Kids have an endless array of electronic games. We have windows that keep the Ultraviolet rays out, and air conditioning to keep the entire house cool. We even have electronic fences to keep the dog from straying.

And with all that, some of my favorite things are really very simple. I’m delighted to have an attached garage so that I can get out of the car and stay dry. I love the refrigerator that makes ice for me, and is frost free. The microwave gives me my first morning cup of tea in two minutes, and my family thanks GOD for that. And, the log lighter in the fireplace is wonderful. I know a lot of people go for fake fires, but I just need a little help getting my fire started.

I could live without my creature comforts, but they sure make life nice. What would you hate to give up?

6 large green bell peppers
1 pound ground beef
¼ cup finely chopped onion
1 cup cooked rice
1 can (15 oz) tomato sauce
1 tablespoon Worcestershire
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon basil leaves, crushed
½ cup shredded Cheddar cheese

Slice the tops off the peppers. Discard the seeds and membranes. Mince the pepper tops to make ½ cups and set aside.

In a kettle, over high heat, bring an inch of water to a boil. Add the peppers cut side down. Cover and reduce heat to low. Simmer 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Drain peppers on paper towels. Empty the skillet and dry it.

Return the pan to medium high heat, and cook the beef, onion, and chopped green pepper until the meat is browned and the vegetables are tender. Drain off the fat. Stir in the rice, 1 cup tomato sauce, Worcestershire, salt and basil. Bring to a boil; remove from heat.

Spoon the meat mixture into the pepper shells. In a 10 x 6 baking dish, place the stuffed shells upright. Pour the remaining tomato sauce over the peppers and cover with foil.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Uncover, sprinkle with cheese. Bake 10 minutes more.

My household makes a few changes to this recipe. We add a little more onion to the mix, using an entire small onion rather than limiting it to a quarter cup. We also use a little more tomato sauce. Another 8 ounce can of sauce is more than enough. Occasionally I add a little cheese to the beef and rice mixture as well as sprinkling it on the top.

This is a great meal to serve when the peppers ripen, and those of you who don’t care for green pepper can substitute red peppers for the shell.

I’ve been dieting. Well…I was dieting. I’ve been off my diet for about a week, but I’m trying not to regain those lost pounds. I plan to resume my diet with fervor on Friday. I’ve been doing the Atkins diet, and it seems to work for me, but it can be difficult to get through the first two weeks if there are too many temptations put in your way.

I’ve discovered some wonderful things along the way:

*I can eat a lot less and feel full, if I eat three or more meals a day, and if I choose the right foods.

*When I do without all the carbs I used to love, I feel better, and I may be sleeping better, too.

*The high-fat, salty foods that I thought I craved don’t really taste that good.

* Water is wonderful! I feel better when I drink water instead of tea.

I’m getting up earlier so that I can have breakfast. That’s great, because DH gets up at 4:30. It’s making it easier to align our days. I’m also getting more done in the morning, and my ability to attend to task is improving.

There are a few drawbacks. I can’t have the luscious summer fruit that’s out there. The peaches and nectarines and watermelon and grapes won’t be part of my diet this year. Right now, my veggies are limited, so I have to be clever in preparing meals that work in the diet so that the rest of my family won’t get bored. And, I have had to give up toast at breakfast. That might be the hardest part of the diet. No toast.

Tomorrow night I have to go to a dinner at a French restaurant. I figured there wasn’t a chance of finding a meal there that will work on the diet. So….I’ll go and enjoy myself and then resume my diet Friday morning.

Tonight, we’re having stuffed green peppers and salad. I may have a peach for dessert. Who would have thought that something as simple as a peach could bring such pleasure?

This came in my e-mail today. Given the previous post on Creature Comforts, I thought I'd share it.

The year is 1902 , one hundred years ago... what a difference a century makes. Here are the U.S. statistics for 1902....

The average life expectancy in the US was forty-seven.

Only 14 Percent of the homes in the US had a bathtub.

Only 8 percent of the homes had a telephone.

A three-minute call from Denver to New York City cost eleven dollars.

There were only 8,000 cars in the US and only 144 miles of paved roads.

The maximum speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.

Alabama, Mississippi, Iowa, and Tennessee were each more heavily populated than California. With a mere 1.4 million residents, California was only the 21st most populous state in the Union.

The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower.

The average wage in the US was 22 cents an hour.

The average US worker made between $200 and $400 per year.

A competent accountant could expect to earn $2000 per year, a dentist $2,500 per year, a veterinarian between $1,500 and $4,000 per year, and a mechanical engineer about $5,000 per year.

More than 95 percent of all births in the US took place at home.

Ninety percent of all US physicians had no college education. Instead, they attended medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press and by the government as "substandard."

Sugar cost four cents a pound. Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen. Coffee cost fifteen cents a pound.

Most women only washed their hair once a month and used borax or egg yolks for shampoo.

Canada passed a law prohibiting poor people from entering the country for any reason.

The five leading causes of death in the US were:
1. Pneumonia and influenza
2. Tuberculosis
3. Diarrhea
4. Heart disease
5. Stroke

The American flag had 45 stars. Arizona, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Hawaii and Alaska hadn't been admitted to the Union yet.

The population of Las Vegas, Nevada was 30.

Crossword puzzles, canned beer, and iced tea hadn't been invented.

There were no Mother's Day or Father's Day.

One in ten US adults couldn't read or write. Only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated from high school.

Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at corner drugstores. According to one pharmacist, "Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind, regulates the stomach and the bowels, and is, in fact, a perfect guardian of health."

Eighteen percent of households in the US had at least one full-time servant or domestic.

There were only about 230 reported murders in the entire US.

Just think what it will be like in another 100 years. It boggles the mind!!

I heard on the radio this morning that Cook County, the home of Chicago, Illinois has 135 languages spoken within it's boundaries.

AND, 35%.....that's THIRTY-FIVE PERCENT of the households in the county do not use English as the language spoken in the home.

Spanish, Polish, one of the Chinese dialects. What the heck are the OTHER 132 languages???

A friend sent me to this URL recently: http://64.177.83.63/liberty/email.htm

The presentation reminds us that freedom comes at a price, and that we must NEVER forget those who lost their lives on September 11, 2001.

I know I won't.

Go visit.

I was reading yesterday, and came across the word "voluptuary," and paused to wonder if there are voluptuaries today.

Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1998 defines it this way:

voluptuary \Vo*lup"tu*a*ry\ (?; 135), n.; pl. Voluptuaries. [L. voluptuarius or voluptarius, fr. voluptas pleasure.] A voluptuous person; one who makes his physical enjoyment his chief care; one addicted to luxury, and the gratification of sensual appetites.
Syn: Sensualist; epicure.

I browsed at Google in an effort to see if there were famous 20th century voluptuaries, and found the word tied to the United Nations, sex, disipation, Anne Rice, the Kama Sutra, French cuisine, prostitution, literature, chinchilla, dance, Tolstoy and assorted other entries. There was even a reference to mental voluptuaries.

So, a voluptuary is a person who spends his or her time in the pursuit of personal pleasure. That pleasure may be sexual, or sensual. It can be tactile, or mental, or gustatory.

I wonder if you can be a part-time voluptuary? Do you need to have great wealth to be one? Can you be a working stiff and still be a voluptuary?

I always thought of Pashas with their harems when I saw the word voluptuary. Picture a man reclining on a collection of pillows, having a small child fan the air with peacock feathers, a scantily clad woman searching a tray for the most delictable morsel to feed him.

I suppose today's voluptuary is the man who drives an expensive car loaded with all the accessories ever invented, or the woman who choses to clothe herself in silk and fur. On very rare occasions, I have been a voluptuary when dining out, but unlike Nero Wolfe, those occasions have been few and far between. I suspect if the third world knew of the word, they would consider every inhabitant of the western world to be a voluptuary.

I think I'll create a female character for an on-going series of stories who has chosen the life of a voluptuary. You know, they say that you should write about what you know. I'll have to do a LOT of research! *G*

What is it with men and directions? I just don't understand this issue. My husband, who is exceptional in so many ways, simply does not get the idea of asking for directions when he is lost.

The closest he has ever come to admitting he was lost was the day he called me from his truck, and said that he wanted me to get out the six county map (Chicago and suburbs), and see if I could advise him how to get where he was going. Unfortunately, rather than pull over and give me some time to flip through the pages to find his starting point, he kept driving! ARRRGH!!!

He finally hit a road he recognized, and back-tracked as I frantically searched through the pages, trying to figure out how to get him where he needed to go.

When we travel, he drives, for the most part, and I sit with a Rand McNally map of the US on my lap. On long trips he never argues with me about what direction to go. Even in Chicago he turns when I tell him to. Unfortunately, one day I said "Turn Left HERE!" and we ended up going the wrong way on a one way street. Luckily, it was at a time of the evening when there was little traffic and we made it to the next block safely. I told you he was exceptional.

Still, when we are in the 'burbs, he and I would NEVER choose the same path to get where we are going. For a while it became a bone of contention between us, and now it's graduated to the family joke. My mother used to dread riding with us because we were likely to bicker about how to get where we were going.

I believe in taking the less traveled route, even if it means I have to make a few more turns. I travel at off peak times (IF there is such a thing out here, any longer). DH, on the other hand, is used to driving a 14 foot stake bed truck that is restricted to certain roads. He ALWAYS chooses the route with the fewest turns, and this habit leaches over to his private driving as well.

Being a boat owner, DH is the proud owner of three, or maybe it's four, hand held GPS devices. I'm tempted to buy him one of the watch styled ones for our anniversary. Then he'll always be able to tell me where he WAS!

ARRGH!!!

Hi! My name is Buffy, and I'm addicted to my blog and the world of blogs.

This morning I was doing the mundane chores that most women have to deal with.....emptying out the dishwasher, refilling it, making breakfast, organizing mail and library books and shopping lists for the morning's trip. As I worked, several ideas for my blog popped into my head, complete with the opening lines.

I don't know about you, but these ideas always come to me when I can't write them down. They come when I'm washing my hands, stepping into the shower, making a left turn, weeding, shaping hamburgers, or when I'm simply where there is no paper. I detest the fact that I have a superb line to use and it's gone before I can get it on paper. You can feel it evaporate away, and know that it's floating around out in the ether....perhaps to be snagged by another blogger.

I have a hand held tape recorder that is voice activated. I'm going to have to carry that sucker around with me from now on.

I can see it now......Fred will turn over and say "Whaaaaaa???" as I enter my thoughts, just before falling off to sleep.

I'm addicted. What else can I say??

As I logged on today, I noticed that AOL is taking a poll. The question was:

Should rape accusers be named in the media?

These are the results of the poll so far:

YES 57% 844,879
NO 32% 473,127
NOT SURE 10% 149,163

Have you experienced a streaker? It was the new thing when I was at school, and I see that it hasn't died out. This is one of those links that Dr. D might send when he's having trouble thinking of an issue to discuss. I admit it. I'm having one of those totally emply, blank, tabula rasa days. I go from having endless things to say, to zippo, so it's not surprising a little streaking caught my attention! *G*

Sorry, Doc.......I beat you to it! lol

Additional post:
Well, Sgt. Hook was right, the link has expired since I posted. THe story was about a passenger on a plane to Singapore. The man was a thirty-something flight attendant, traveling as a passenger. At one point, he jumped up from his seat, threw a glass of wine over several other passengers, stripped naked and threw his credit cards around the cabin. The flight attendents couldn't get to him for a few moments because the serving carts blocked their passage. They finally herded him to the front of the plane where he was handed his clothes and told to dress.

He's going to have a little "mental health" vacation. Apparently the airline had no sense of humor. *G*

Discourse, Dialog, Diatribe, Disappointment

I had hoped when I started blogging that I would find that the blog world was slightly different from the other areas of the Internet that I have experienced. Recently, on one of the blogs that I read, I learned that things are the same all over the Internet.

I've written before that our road will face some changes in the future, and that we will most likely loose old trees in the process. We've also been concerned that an upscale outlet mall is being built a mile and a half west of us, near the end of the road we live on. The mall developers bought ACRES of land that was boggy in nature, and we couldn't figure out what they had planned.

In my twenties, I had the chance to travel across Europe with an adult community band. One of the cities we visited was Ulm, Germany. I was reminded of that day by a post on Dr. D's blog.

We were about halfway through our tour when the younger members of the bass section decided it was time for a night out. One of our members was Jewish, and he was the only one who came even close to being able to communicate with the natives.

We left the hotel, and walked down the main thoroughfare. When we came to a promising side street, we veered off, looking for a neighborhood bar. We finally settled on one. I can't say we were welcomed with open arms. The customers and bartender alike looked us up and down. I figure they were wondering if we had come looking for trouble, and they were willing to give it to us. It was clearly a rough crowd, and they resented the intrusion. It didn't help that the bass player's German was likely laced with Yiddish.

Somehow we managed to place an order for the local beer, and it came in litre glasses. Sheer stupidity (shaking my head). One of them said "Bottoms UP" and THEY chugged the beer. I was still sipping mine when they slammed their glasses down, and looked expectantly at me. "You know, the looser buys the next round, don't you?"

I ponied up for four rounds that night. I never finished one of them. Surprisingly, it was the girl who played string bass who packed it away the best. She must have practiced regularly. *G*

As one point, she and I headed for the loo, an experience I will NEVER forget. I know they talk about Americans being nasty neat, and having too high expectations when it comes to sanitation, but this was simply a hole in the floor! If I could have held it, I would have!

We had a long bus ride the next day, and had to be up early to load the buses, so after the fourth round, we lurched out of our chairs and headed for the door. I'm astounded we were able to find our way back to the hotel. Standing up was a group effort.

As I recall.....the beer was great! But I had enough of it that night to last me a lifetime!