Date Night and the Level 3 Sex Offender

It's Tuesday, and that means it's Date Night. As is usual and customary, Dave and I found ourselves at the bar at the 99 in Wilmington. It was just another Tuesday, until the Level 3 Sex Offender (L3SO) walked in.

Apparently he comes in often and is usually chased away by patrons who make his presence known to other customers. Between the wait staff and other patrons, it was clear L3SO didn't have too many friends in the place. He was with a woman who claimed that her mother and her children have tried to tell him of L3SO's past and she doesn't believe a word of it. She got into a verbal exchange with a man who tried to urge L3SO to take his business elsewhere. Once word about him circulated around the bar, no one could keep their eyes off the man.

We came home and found the man on the Web, along with way too many others like him. He committed his crimes in 1987 and 1995, and carries the L3SO designation. The Web site goes on the say that he is at a "high risk to re-offend and the the degree of dangerousness posted to the public is such that a substantial public safety interest is served by active community communication."

Hence, people like the man at the bar who "invited" L3SO to move along take every opportunity to point this man out when he encounters L3SO in public. That's why the waitress who saw L3SO in the lobby waiting for a table told him, "You better not sit in my area, I won't wait on you."

Has he paid the price for his crimes of 12 and 21 years ago? Should he be able to sit in a family restaurant in peace or wander through the aisles of a store populated by families with children without fear his past will be pronounced to anyone in earshot?

It would make an interesting debate, but one that had no place at the bar at the 99 on this night. There wasn't anyone willing to take the unpopular side of the argument, even for the sake of the argument.

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Tips for Wives and Husbands

My latest issue of Vanity Fair included an article of “Don’t” tips for husbands and wives. According to the article, the lists were published almost 100 years ago. The books are being reissued by A&C Black, Ltd. I may have to buy the pair, if just for the laugh. I’ll let you decide whether you’ll want copies of your own.

Go head, click through!

Don’ts for Wives

• Don’t expect your husband to be an angel. You would get very tired of him if he were.
• Don’t let him have to search the house for you. Listen for his latchkey and meet him on the threshold.
• Don’t let your husband wear a violet tie with grass-green socks. If he is unhappily devoid of the color sense, he must be forcibly restrained, but don’t be sarcastic about your husband’s taste in dress.
• Don’t try too hard to regulate your husband’s pleasures, and don’t be jealous if they don’t always include you.
• Don’t try to excite your husband’s jealousy by flirting with another man,. You may succeed better than you want to. It is like playing with tigers and edged tools and volcanoes all in one.
• Don’t bother your husband with a stream of senseless chatter if you can see that he is fatigued.
• Don’t forget to wish your husband good morning when he sets off to the office. He will feel the lack of your good-bye kiss all day
• Don’t moralize the way of winning back the love that seems to be waning. Make yourself extra charming and arrange delicious dinners which include all your husband’s favorite dishes.

Don’ts for Husbands

• Don’t be surprised, or annoyed, or disappointed to find, after treating your wife for years as a featherbrain, that you have made her one, and that she fails to rise to the occasion when you need her help.
• Don’t slouch. No one who cares for a man likes to see him acquire a slouching habit.
• Don’t forget that character is more important than genius. If your wife is a true woman, don’t worry about the rest.
• Don’t scowl or look severe. Cultivate a pleasant expression even if nature hasn’t blessed you with one.
• Don’t drop, when alone with your wife, the little courtesies that you would offer to other women. For instance, always get up to open a door for her, as you would for a lady guest.
• Don’t insist on having the last word. If you know when to drop an argument, you are a wise man.
• Don’t argue that a new hat isn’t necessary because there’s nothing visibly wrong with the one she is wearing; you probably have forgotten that this is its third season, but she hasn’t.
• Don’t give up cricket, or football… or whatever outdoor sport you have been accustomed to just because you are married. Athletics will keep you from becoming flabby.
• Don’t selfishly refuse to go out in the evening because you have been among people all day. Remember that your wife hasn’t and a change is good for her.

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About Saturday, the "Living Prayer" Garden and the Boston Marathon

I didn't think the work week would ever end. Once again I spent more time solving problems and fighting fires than I did doing my own work, and as a result, I "look forward" to giving my Sunday to the office. I really don't mind (too much), and I have to pay a bit of a price since I plan to get on a plane in 10 days and disappear for a while!

(Go, there's more...)

I got an e-mail from my friend Joe last night. He and I are high school friends from another lifetime. He and his family live in Western Massachusetts, so we haven't see each other in too long time but we stay in touch.

Last night he sent me a couple of photos of a garden his wife Kathy is creating. I hope you'll recognize that she has developed a pattern in the shape of a ribbon, and she's planting white, pink, and blue flowers in the different sections. Here is Joe's message:

This is a preview of what's to come. Kathy is growing a "Living Prayer" here. The flowers are:
Carpet of Snow (white) Alyssum for the white ribbon
Rosie O'Day and Royal Carpet (pastel and deep pink) Alyssum for the pink ribbon
Blue Lobelia for the background


She's going to put a lot of names in this. Our sister in-law Karla and yours are the first ones to go in. Both of ya's have been through the same ordeal. Now all we have to do is keep the dogs and cats out of it along with the neighbor's kids!

I can't wait to watch Kathy's garden grow in. I asked Joe to send me photos as it grows in, and I'll share them here for you to see.

Along with this wonderful gift came another this week. Last Monday was the 112th running of the Boston Marathon, an event that has become a huge fund raiser for cancer, lymphoma, and leukemia research, and many, many more.

Last weekend, PJ heard from her friend Tim Smith, who was running Boston (for I believe his third time), and he dedicated one of his miles (#14) in my honor.

I was beyond words at this kindness. To find myself enveloped in that love along with people such as Jane Nitchie, Barbara and Harry Cook, and all the others, made me cry. I hope you'll go to Tim's blog at www.bostonbound.org/smith/ and read about his special journey.

And with that, I'm off to tackle Saturday. I need to get an international driver's license today so I can legally be a menace on the highways and byways in Switzerland. It's not a bad thing to have even if I don't drive. I realized a couple of days ago that my Massachusetts license and passport bear "old" photos of me with my former head of hair. I don't look like that any more!

Cheers!

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Where does the time go?

In 13 days I'll be in Switzerland, assuming the planes are flying and I can motor up to to the jetway. I'll try not to be too obnoxious about it between now and then.

I'm in the middle of one of those awful stretches of insomnia. Nothing seems to help except a sleeping pill, and I don't want to get hooked on those. Life is pretty good on all counts these days, even work, so it's not a stress-related thing. Just life, I guess.

PJ is off living on her own (sort of), she's house- and puppy-sitting for a friend and enjoying being independent. We miss her terribly, even though we see little of her when she calls these walls "home."

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Fiesta de la Sanford

Off to Maine on the Amtrak Downeaster (have you seen the price of gas?? Holy crap! $3.35 a gallon!). Spending the night at my mother's in anticipation of her open house tomorrow. If you'll be in the neighborhood, ring my cell and we'll talk you in.

Type rest of the post here

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Thoughts while, well, while thinking

Someone has taken to posting statements in the bathroom at work, statements I think are supposed to be of an inspirational nature.

The latest offerings are these two:

"Eduation is a progressive discovery of our own ignorance," and

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return."

Call me a killjoy, but I have a minor problem with this. For one thing, I wonder who has time to search for these words of wisdom, type 'em up, print them off a color copier, and hang them in the Ladies'. If there's someone out there with that much free time, I'll be happy to share some items on my scheudle that have been languishing since April 2nd.

And while I'm all for loving and being loved, I can think of a small handful of things that are right up there on the list of the greatest things I'll ever learn. Here are a few:

• Breathe. If you don't, you'll die.


• Don't put anything in your mouth that you don't intend to swallow and use for fuel. Before you become all silly and giggly, I add this one in honor of a coworker who spent a recent unpleasant evening in the local ER with her young son who had swallowed a coin. Following multiplpe rounds of x-rays, exams, blood tets and such, he was discharged with instructions to come back the next day for more of the same (to check for movement of the coin). The next evening she caught him with a bottle cap in his mouth. I laughed my ass off listening to her tell the story, and I'm certain it was so amusing only because it wasn't my child.


• Take time for yourself. If you don't, you won't be much good to anyone else. Don't wait until the time is right because it probably never will be the right time. Work is the usual screwer-up of "me time."


• Be nice to others. Being nice gets paid back at least double.


• Be willing to go next (as in let someone go before you). Go where? Doesn't matter. Onto the on ramp. Up to the counter at the bank. To the checkout line at the supermarket. Through a door. It's another way you can be nice.

Can you think of a few more? Share them with me and I'll post them and maybe give you credit.

Sorry, that's not being nice. I will give you credit.

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Maple syrup and prepositions

I was going to blog about poor grammar and bad sentence construction but I'm holding back because I don't want to come across as a snob. I'm the one who hollers at the radio and television at the mis-use of the English language for the alleged sake of breaking news. I cringe at the "12 items or less" signs at the supermarket and big box stores. I detest the apparent delight people take in writing sentences that would make better paragraphs.

Gawd, you'd think I think I'm perfect.

(This time there really is more to read. Go on, click through!)

This all started to fester yesterday when Dave and I took in the breakfast buffet at the Sheraton Colonial in Lynnfield. I walked through the buffet line behind a woman who looked familiar. It look me a few moments to realize it was Nancy Kerrigan, the former Olymnpic skating champion, famous for her knee's run in with Tonya Harding's henchman, and Kerrigan's pathetic "WWWWWhhhhhyyyyyy?" bellows, which were made famous (infamous) on an ESPN's readers' list of the worst sports scandals (#7).

{Ah, hello! talk about a run-on sentence...}

Anyway, there I was, not giving an inch to the argument she presented that the maple syrup (in the middle of the buffet line) should be NEXT TO the French toast (which was at the end of the buffet line). Dear me, I thought, if that's worth picking a squabble over, what must she be like if the kids don't pick up their socks?

I couldn't resist hitting the Internet when I got home. I had questions that demanded answers (such as, wasn't her husband married to someone else when they started dating? No, apparently. Apparently.) I toured her Web site and concluded that she really, really needs to hire me to rewrite the content. Really. His site too, for that matter.

So, that's it. My little rant about the sad state of the English language. Please remember that prepositions are words you shouldn't end sentences with. The punctuations goes inside the quotation mark. (Example: "I wouldn't kid you about that," she said.) Re-read your sentences. If you have to stop and take a breath before you get to the end of one, it's too damn long. Employ some punctuation.

And for God's sake, use your directional signal when you change lanes.

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Chuck likes my new "do"

Went out to dinner last night with our friends Chuck and Gail. Hadn't seen them in a while... he says I look like a Chia pet... He didn't say which one. There's a frog, a pig, a clown, a lamb, a puppy, a bunny, and a turtle among others.

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A great day!

Saw my surgeon today. Hard to believe I'm eight months post-surgery (of course in that time came the other aspects of treatment: chemo, radiation, and a whole lot of recovering).

I told him a feel terrific, and I really do. He did an exam and pronounced me in great shape for this point in treatment. I'm booked for a mammogram on July 9 and will see him immediately afterwards for a review of the films.

The July date is a year following an MRI that was done in 2007 between my two surgeries. The mammogram that detected the cancer was done in April '07, and I assumed I was coming up on over-due to have on this year.

But the doc assures me that the July MRI '07 date is the date we should work from, so I'll be patient until July 9.

Dave and I also had a long conversation with my doc's nurse. She confirmed our thoughts that I should be free and clear from cancer concerns for at least five years. That's based on the effects of chemo and radiation, plus the drug I'm taking (Aromasin).

Of course there are no guarantees. Even mammo films and MRIs can fail to reveal something important. But I'm not taking my head in that direction.

I'm celebrating with my new favorite beverage, Allagash White. Cheers!

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Mmmm, fruity!

Here's another one of those silly quizzes: What type of fruit are you?

I am a Strawberry!

I am friendly, outgoing, and well liked by many people. I am popular, but there's nothing ordinary or average about me. I'm a very interesting person, and have many facets to my personality. Sometimes I feel very conflicted. Different sides of my personality pull at me. I'm a very sensual and passionate person, fiery... I can't help it. In general, I keep my passionate side under wraps. I'm only wild in private.

What Type of Fruit Are You?

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31 Days

Last night Dave asked me if I was counting down the days until I leave for Switzerland. I said I wasn't; it seems too far away. This morning I took the calendar off the side of the refrigerator and counted. 31 days. I can't wait!

It's a rainy, dreary Saturday, a perfect day to do yard work. The whiskey barrel planter we put in some 20 years ago finally collapsed under the weight of all the snow we had this winter--hence today's scheduled adventure to Lowes Garden Center, to replace the planter and see what else they have that we can't live without. The rain should quit in a couple of hours and leave a good opportunity to rake out the gardens and plant some bulbs. The crocuses are already up (searching for sunshine, poor things), and the day lily and hosta shoots have pushed through the soil. A kind person would get the dead leaves out of their way so they can blossom and bloom in style.

That is today's mission. Tomorrow I'm driving to Sanford. My Swiss traveling companion and I have to read the travel guide and map out our plan of tourist-attack on the host nation.

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