Saturday, July 29, 2006

Of Hoff and Perry

I got laughed at last night. Twice. Why? I was chatting on IM and brought up the Random Question of the Day. In this case, it was:
"Ever look at a celebrity you crushed on way back when and wonder what the heck you were thinking?"
I got laughed at because I said I used to like David Hasselhoff.

Shut UP.

I mean it.

I tried to explain it was all about the car... well, who wouldn't like a guy, stupid hair or not, with a cool car like K.I.T.T.? And Devon had a nice accent. Yet I got laughed at for admitting I once liked the Hoff. I see him now and all I think is- in a word- EW. He doesn't even rate a few extra W's on the end of that EW either. I understand he's quite popular over the pond. I have no idea why; I've seen the videos and EW- followed by stunned disbelief that anyone can deliberately be so cheesy- is my usual reaction.

Another former crush of mine usually meets with agreement. Again, I have no idea why, as he is not what one would consider a stereotypically attractive person. In fact at the height of his popularity he was downright homely. Okay, maybe in the late 70's he was cute in a long-haired femme kind of way (much like Cher) but I came in at the tail end of that party.

I'm talking about Steve Perry, (former) lead singer for Journey. What was it that made him so popular with women? It couldn't have been *just* the voice, though that's what hooked me and kept me on the line for 25 years. And counting.

We liked him through the flamboyant effeminate hippie stage...
The slightly-chubby mullet-and-sideburns stage... (Click here for the ultimate in 80's cheese)...
The Big Hair and Faded Jeans With A Tailcoat era... (Hey, was that in Fresno?)

And the introspective older hippie (AKA the Melancholy) phase...
Then he chopped the hair off again for Gay Part II... We didn't care.
He gained weight... We didn't care.
There were more phases in between, like the transitional one from 70's to 80's and the One With The Hat from the Street Talk time. Through all his looks, a lot of women of my era, when hearing the name "Steve Perry," will say "Ooooh, he was so CUTE!" Some of them say that about him now. Ladies, once a man is in his 50's, calling him cute just seems weird.

I just don't know what the attraction was. Maybe the Portuguese looks? I know I crushed on a few guys just because they resembled him. (One of them, I believe, was a relative of his, though the guy never would tell me.) As far as I know, none of them could sing. Thus my interest was short-lived.

It had to be the combination of soulful vocals, unique persona and perhaps those cupids-bow lips, added to his dynamic stage presence and oh yeah, those tuxedo tails. With jeans and sneakers, no less. Whatever it was, mix it all up with a little bit of undefinable magnetism, a dab of Cheez Whiz and cream rinse by the gallon and there you go. Few did it like Steve Perry did, and that kind of unexplainable phenomenon may never be deciphered.

Gotta go... there's some Strange Medicine on the player, begging me to close my eyes and get lost in the music again. And a note to Steve: I don't care if you gain a hundred pounds, shave your head and wear polka-dotted pajamas... just SING, man! Sing already! I promise we'll fall in love with you all over again. History proves this to be true.

And stop laughing at me. For all I know, Steve Perry has a cool car too.

Before I go, here's one of my favorite Journey songs.

*Images cribbed from Google... if one is yours, drop me a line and I'll credit you for it.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Lucky Seven... I Think

This week marks 7 years at my current job. I was only hired for two weeks, as a temp to help out with the baby poinsettias. On my first day, I met my future husband... here it is, seven years later, and today I did the exact same thing I was doing when I first started. I'm with the same man. I even have the same car! (Still have the first ball cap I wore there, hanging in the closet... it has "bite me" written on the back in black Sharpie.)

Once I decided to move here, I said I would stay for a few months to see if I liked it. My whole life was changing and I wasn't about to commit to a job I'd gotten just to make some quick cash. A few months later, I said I'd give it a year. Then I said if my friend and mentor, the woman who hired me, ever quit I'd be out the door behind her since it wouldn't be the same. Instead, I took over her job when she did leave. I learned that I was pretty good at it, although I still couldn't see myself making it a long-term position. At the time, every employee who reached a milestone (5,10, 15 years, etc) was awarded their choice of company-logo items. I always liked the stereotype of a business giving an employee a watch and there was one I liked in the awards book, so I started saying "I'm stayin' till I get my watch." Six months prior to my five-year anniversary, they canceled the awards program. No watch, but I did have health and vision insurance for myself and my husband, so I kept on.

At our "Rewards and Recognition" employee meeting today, when my name was called by the site manager to acknowledge my anniversary, I asked "Am I up for parole yet?" She rolled her eyes while the other manager laughed. I must say, though, it was nice to hear how many people clapped when my name was called. The managers didn't have to encourage anyone to do it. That's a pretty good feeling. It's their anniversary too... they've put up with me for quite a while! (My sarcasm and occasional indignation don't always go over well.)

So... I've served seven years of an open-ended sentence. I get time off for good behavior in December. I still want that watch, though. Maybe in another three years...?

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Christmas in July!

End of the season... seems a long way off!

Some people think that it's fun to celebrate Christmas in July. Other people think those people are nuts. I am from the latter camp.

Ironically (or not- 'tis the season, after all) we just got our first set of poinsettias at work this week. They've actually been on-site for a while, but my section gets them after the plugs are potted. Hence, Christmas in July. That's one reason I think the people who want to acknowledge the unholiday are nuts. Freaking poinsettias! Ugh.

I spent the better part of the morning babysitting a trio who were, hands down, the least motivated (read: lazy) employees I've ever seen there. On top of that, they took half-hour breaks, went to the bathroom as a group, and did not even attempt to do even the simplest tasks correctly despite having them personally demonstrated (repeatedly) and with people standing next to them watching! They just laughed and continued to goof off. As a result, several areas had to be moved and re-spaced by crew leaders and myself, and the site manager made an appearance to check out the situation. I understand that the unwiseguys will not have jobs tomorrow. Ouch! (By the way, I had nothing to do with that. Their crew is under different leadership. I was attempting, unsuccessfully, to train them since their own crew leader refused to even speak to them anymore. That should have been my first clue.) Merry Christmas, guys.

The rest of the day was spent in the by-now-familiar hectic frenzy known as Day One. Set down, hand-feed, rinse, repeat. Drag hoses. Set mist clocks. Watch mist cycle. Get everyone wet when mist goes off without warning. Adjust leaves, adjust pots, adjust valves, adjust mist, adjust hoses... by the time we're done, everything is well-adjusted except us. We're frazzled.

I will say, though, that the closest thing I personally have to a "maternal instinct" kicks in when the new little points arrive. They are my babies; I worry about them. I did not like leaving today, not being there to watch over them and make sure they were all getting their mist on time and getting fed and so on. As much as I hate the interminable green growing stage of poinsettias, I love the beginning. I love movingmovingmoving, setting everything up, all the details that ensure a healthy start. Once they're esablished I'll go into Hate Mode, which will increase a hundredfold by the time December rolls around and I've decided which lucky plant gets to be stomped at the end of the season. Poinsettia stomping should be sanctioned by our company, it really should. There would be a lot fewer agitated employees going spastic after looking at the %$&# things for 6 months straight. I know it always makes me feel better!

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Down on Main Street


I was just reading another blog, and one line caught my attention. The writer said "I've never lived on Main Street before."

I wonder what the odds are that any of us will, at any point in our lives, reside on Main Street. Almost every town and city, borough and hamlet has a Main Street. Here in Pennsylvania, the odds are about the same as living on Railroad Street, since every town* seems to have one of those as well. We've been living on Main Street for over six years, but I never really thought about it before. It is kinda cool. Most Main Streets are downtown (or what passes for it in our case) right in the heart of the population. Our "city limits" total one square mile. Main Street becomes Route Such-and-Such on either end of the mile, so there isn't a whole lot of street to our main.

If there is an American small-town common denominator, this is it. Main is what it says; no originality there. But in most cases, that will be the hub of the community. Even though our borough is tiny it's still true. I can walk to wherever I need; the little local grocery, post office, gas station, sub shop, firehall, bank, and church. Anyone who drives through has to cross our road or go along it. Our porch looks over the street; people honk and wave at us as they go by, parades turn the corner in front of the firehall next door, high-school sports teams ride up and down after a victory cheering and blasting sirens, Amish buggies drive by en route to one farm or another. Always something happening here on Main Street in spite of this being a wee little farm town without any fast-food places, chain stores, bars, or an actual traffic light. (Ours is just a flashing light at the four-way stop.) I like it here. It has its drawbacks and I'd hate living on Main in a more urban area but this... this is okay. We won't stay here forever but for now I like being part of American nostalgia and tradition.

*Yes, I know there is only one designated "town" in PA. But it's easier to say town than to figure out which is a hamlet, burg, borough, township, etc. For the record, ours is a borough.


Main street isn't main street anymore
Lights don't shine as brightly as they shone before

Tell the truth, lights don't shine at all

In our town

Sun comes up each morning

Just like it's always done
Get up, go to work, start the day,

Open up for business that's never gonna come

As the world rolls by a million miles away

Main street isn't main street anymore

No one seems to need us like they did before

It's hard to find a reason left to stay
But it's our town

Love it anyway

Come what may, it's our town.
~James Taylor, "Our Town"

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Bad Week, Good Week

Bad:
  • It's been miserably hot.
  • I've been working in the fields since Tuesday. Add "miserably hot" to "standing on black plastic mats in the sun all day." Yuck.
  • I got sunburned too, in spite of using sunblock. It isn't very effective when you're in among sprinklers. (FYI, the water is warm too. Double yuck.)
  • Our head grower, the guy who handles all the Big Important Stuff, just took another job and will be leaving in a couple of weeks. Nobody knows who will replace him.
  • The Bronco is injured. There is a 2-foot-long gouge in the right-rear fender, not just to the paint but the metal is even pushed in along the gouge. The fender trim is bent too.
  • Stepped on a tomato hornworm. ICK ICK ICK ICK
Good:
  • My boss is back, yay! Had enough stress the last two weeks; he can have it back now. I don't want it!
  • My eagles are back! That's the best part of being in the fields, seeing the critters, and especially the golden eagles. They're nesting again this year! Got a great show today when one of them was doing lazy circles over the fields. Usually I hear them but don't see them; today was exceptional.
  • Got a private message from a semi-famous singer. Coolness...
  • Also got several songs I'd never heard before from a particular demo tape and spent a while rockin' out.
  • Hubby and I cooked dinner together tonight. We should do that more often, we always have fun!
  • Supposed to drop down into the 80s for a cold snap. ;-P At this point I'll take it.
Things I was really wishing for this past week:
  • My own swimming pool
  • A trip to Alaska
  • Ice
  • Better air conditioning at home
  • ANY cool air at work
  • Going to the movies just cause I always freeze in there
See a theme here?

Ah well, in the grand scheme of things it's all trivial. "And this, too, shall pass..."

Where's the ice?

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

No chains, same Mr. T!

Just ran across this blog post and simply had to share it! If you're a child of the 80's you'll appreciate this.

If you could ask Mr. T a question, would you get the best response EVER?

I pity the fool!


;-)

Monday, July 17, 2006

Sun-derful Days!


It's hot out there. I don't mean typical summertime heat, but muggy sticky swim-through-the-air humid and temps in the 90s to boot. "Welcome to the Jungle" is (once again) my theme song for working in a greenhouse. I must be crazy! Heat is supposed to continue most of this week... bleah.

However, I didn't work today. Yay! Hubby and I went in search of sweet corn, since the fella we usually buy it from has been sold out and packed up rather early all week. We headed over to the flea and farmer's market in Lewisburg. Lo and behold, ONE vendor still had butter & sugar sweet corn! We bought two dozen ears. Our plan is to spend tomorrow evening (once it cools down) washing our patio furniture and hosing off the porch, then we're going to have BBQ sandwiches and corn outside. We also bought sweet cherries and plums.

While in Lewisburg we stopped for lunch and ran into my aunt and uncle, whom we haven't seen since Christmas. After lunch hubby and I went to their house for iced tea and a nice chat. We took over some perennials and I got the landscape tour. Aunt has so many plants and flowers in her yard! I want to see it next spring when all her tulips come up. She also gave me some photos, one of hubby and I from Christmas and an old one of my grandparents that I'd never seen. It was nice to visit with them again!

A while later, as we were making our usual round of the car dealerships, we stopped at one of the many "dairy bars" in the area. I had a real vanilla malt, something I love and rarely find anymore. (Side note: Sonic's malts are horrible. Once you've had a real one you'll know what I mean.) Then we cruised over to drop in on some friends, gave them some corn and made tentative plans to get together next weekend.

Quote of the week: Hubby and I were talking about the folks that live near the golf course. I mentioned that we should have bought a house that was for sale there before all the commercial development came in and drove the prices up, and he said no, because of all the wayward golf balls. He told me he's delivered to people there with dents in their siding and garages, a guy who boarded up one of his windows because he was tired of replacing it, and a woman who went outside to pick up all the golf balls in her yard before he arrived so he wouldn't slip on any while delivering her treadmill. Hubby summarized-deadpan- "The problem is, golfers... are bad golfers."

Maybe you had to be there, but it was so true (for the most part) that I'm still laughing about it. I just think of the time when I was driving down the highway by the course and saw a golf ball go by. I think it was speeding. ;-)

Monday, July 10, 2006

R.I.P



Earnest W. Reece 1913-2006

My husband's grandfather passed away on Saturday at age 93. Pop-Pop was quite a character who always had a story to tell! B last saw him on Pop's birthday last month; they had cake and talked and Pop was his feisty self. He was much loved by his family and I'm sure he'll find an audience waiting in Heaven!

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Aren't you lucky!

After reading several message boards and catching up on everything Journey post-Steve Perry, I wrote out a nice long diatribe on the subject. I accidentally clicked "save draft" instead of "post" and I don't feel like re-reading it right now, so you all get this instead:

* Winning at carnival bingo is nice. Spending most of the winnings to continue playing bingo is kind of silly. Doesn't matter though, I like playing bingo (I call it "practicing for old age") and I like supporting the local fire company. Aside: the firemen left their posts in the middle of the carnival to go on a call. Nobody complained. We love our volunteers!
* How is it possible to have "too much mud" for a 4x4 truck jamboree?
* Learning experience: flamethrower + weeds = bad smell. And a lot of smoke.
* Learning experience, part II: flamethrower ignition device + wood office wall = oops. See above appreciation for firemen.
* CJ's Law of Greenhouses I: everything that can go wrong, will go wrong... the day the boss goes on vacation.
* CJ's Law of Greenhouses II: your main water source will be shut off indefinitely on the worst possible day. See above.
* Every good business or product name is already taken, by a business or product that has nothing to do with your own.
* XM station 49 (Big Tracks) is my current favorite. Also have the song "Brick House" stuck in my head right now.

We're off to Chryslers at Carlisle! Hope the campground isn't flooded. "No open flame" rule sucks, but in light of previous events, probably a good thing. ;-P

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

No-Name Flood

That's right... unlike Agnes in 1972, and Ivan a couple years ago, the PA Flood of 2006 doesn't have a name. Going by river levels, it's the third-worst on record. But it wasn't caused by any named storm, therefore has no title to attach to it.

I think I'm going to call it the Reality Check Flood of 06. In my eyes, that's exactly what it was. Anyone who thinks they're inconvenienced because the closest store is out of your favorite brand of soda, try dealing with having no WATER for several days. Parts of Bloomsburg had the water shut off due to a main break during the flood; people have had to get their drinking water from container trucks. There's a food distribution tent set up just off Main Street. The street is lined with industrial-sized dumpsters now full of belongings, furniture, and debris people are hauling out of their soggy homes. There are more piles of stuff in yards. Cars are sitting with their doors open as owners hope their vehicles will dry out and be salvageable. Windows are open, fans are on, cleanup has begun. It's incredibly sad and shocking.

In all, it's mostly material objects that can be replaced or done without. But it's also homes ruined, lives disrupted, more than a minor inconvenience when people either can't get to work or have to call off or even work around their job hours so they can rip out the drywall and cart waterlogged items outside and take photos for insurance claims and make sure their kids aren't playing in contaminated runoff and bleach everything to stave off mold and feed their families from outdoor grills or Salvation Army donations and try to somehow keep on keeping on.

Granted, our flood was nowhere near the magnitude of Katrina. I hope there never is another on that scale. But it's devastating all the same, especially when it hits home and involves people I know. Therefore, Reality Check '06. The wake-up call to tell us that disaster can happen to anyone, anywhere, even in our own backyards; a lesson for those who weren't around for the other big floods and a reminder to those who were.

And to cap it all, we're still getting rain off and on.

Hey God, we're awake now. Can you fix that leak in the sky, please? Thanks!