Category Archives: humor

More Deck Drudgery

Posted on May 28, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

So there I was, with a scrubbed deck (just a week ago), a can of stain (stain and clear coat in one!), a brush, a roller… everything I needed except ambition. My husband was due home at 6:30 or thereabouts. I had a three day weekend ahead of me. Wasn’t it acceptable to make my blog post and futz around on Facebook or watch World’s Dumbest for Friday night? NO! It was NOT!

I told myself, I’ll just get started. I’ll do the railing. That would be the pain in the buttest part anyways. Won’t Steven be pleased to come home and find me hard at work, not sitting on the couch enjoying my Thirsty Owl Chardonnay (from a New York State winery)?

Of course nothing is ever easy with me. I have that quality. First I had to search for clothes I didn’t care if they got stain on them. I had already worn the Hummel’s t-shirt (purchased at a church rummage sale) to scrub the deck and had not washed it yet. It was definitely shorts weather. I grabbed a pair of bicycle shorts that I like to run in. I could run in stained shorts (nothing could make me look worse running than I already do). At last I found a t-shirt. Some slip-on sneakers my sister Diane gave me some 20 years ago that have never been particularly comfortable. I was ready.

I should have bought one of those little hooky things you open paint cans with. I managed with the edge of an old pair of scissors. I carried the can and brush to the far side of the deck and began staining. The top of the railing was no problem, but the edges were a little tricky. Leaning over to get the far edge, I was sure to hit the top I had just stained. The spindles (are they called spindles? Uprights? I’m sure you know what I mean) were sons of bitches. I quickly realized I could not conveniently get the far side of those. I would do all I could standing on the deck and worry about the other side subsequently.

Slowly I worked my way around. Stand, crouch, sit. Move the can of stain. Go back and get that spot I missed. I started to feel pretty ill used. Where was my husband, who ought to be helping me? (At work, earning money to pay for my stain and accessories.) Where were my family and friends? (Staining their own decks, which I did NOT help with.) I knew I was being unreasonable. Anyways, I would be proud of myself when I was done. In about a hundred years.

Then I went to pull the can after me instead of picking me up and the bastard spilled! At least I didn’t knock it right over, but that comforting thought did not occur to me till later. The best thing I could think of to do was to take my brush and spread the spilled stain around as quickly as I could. Well, I meant to stain that part of the deck anyways. I was just getting a jump on tomorrow’s chore.

I was nearly all the way around the railing by the time Steven came home. I had been working maybe an hour and a half (typically for me, I had failed to note what time I started). He immediately asked was there another paint brush. So much for me grumbling about him not helping! But I thought it would be a better idea for us both to enjoy what was left of the evening and leave the rest for the bright, ambitious morning. For one thing, Steven had to work. For another, I had a blog post to make and I was hungry.

Saturday morning after a long but satisfying run and an invigorating shower, I assessed the shade that covered the deck. Ruth at Aubuchon had cautioned me not to work in the bright, sunny heat of the day. I thought it looked good. It was a little after eight. Steven had gotten out the six foot stepladder for me, so I started on the outside of the railing.

And realized that was the biggest pain in the butt of all! I couldn’t get in the corners. I kept missing places. I had to keep brushing away cobwebs that had grown there since I had scrubbed. Eventually Steven suggested a smaller paint brush and even found me one. That worked better. I was still on the railing when he left for work, but working with determination.

I thought the deck part of the deck would be the easy part. I had a roller, with extender attachment, so I would not have to bend over or be on my hands and knees. Rollers were fast. This might even be fun.

Of course it was not. The roller did not put the stain on smoothly. Ruth had warned me I would have to brush over it after I rolled, and I still had my big brush that had been so poorly adapted for the outside of the railing. It looked better after I brushed it. Unfortunately, I only had one extender attachment. I could roll in a semi-comfortable position, then had to bend over in a distinctly un-back-friendly posture to brush. Oh dear!

At last I took the extender off the roller, put it on the brush (which had a place for it; I think I mentioned in my last post the brush’s package had said it was the Best), and continued to stain with sweeping movements. It really was not going too badly. Not too swiftly, but not too badly.

As I went along, I couldn’t help noticing that it was not looking wonderful. There were large spots on the deck from where my container garden had leaked, and the stain did not obliterate them as I had hoped. I guess that’s from the woodgrain-showing-through quality I thought would look so nice. It just goes to show, we can’t always think of everything.

Then I noticed how the sun was moving. It was pursuing me. And it was not pursuing me like a movie villain, giving up after I managed to stay one step ahead of it. It was relentless. I checked where it was coming from in relation to what was blocking it and changed my tactics. I stained where the sun was now and started working my way back to the shadier shade. Oh, I just had to finish! I could not leave till late afternoon when the shade returned.

Closer and closer to the end I got. I was well into the shade; the sun would never catch me now. Only my own fatigue and frustration could do me in. I encouraged myself with promises of beer and bragging rights. I made it.

In all honesty I have to say, the deck looks less awful than it did before I stained it. And I enjoyed the beer I subsequently rewarded myself with. I would like a beer now. This has been a long damn blog post. If you’ve stuck with me, thank you. I’ll have more deck doings in future posts.

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Lame Effort?

Posted on May 26, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Does anybody else look at the first page of a new notebook and hesitate before writing anything down? This was not the half-baked philosophy I had originally thought to write about, but let’s run with it for a sentence or two (for those of you just tuning in, today is Lame Post Friday, when I amuse myself and I hope others with random observations and half-baked philosophy)(and for regular readers, sorry that I boringly repeat the explanation yet again).

On a blank page I could write something brilliant or wonderful or… oh, what the hell, now I’ve written something. Now it’s just a run of the mill notebook with words in it, not a magic spiral-bound receptacle of possibility. But one thing I’ve noticed about me: I like to write. I enjoy the physical process of putting words on paper. So rather than feeling the middle-aged mix of disappointment and philosophy that happens when reality meets potential, I feel content. And pleased about my new little notebook, purchased at Hummel’s Office Plus in Herkimer, NY (I am Mohawk Valley Girl, after all). So much for that topic.

The half-baked philosophy I had meant to expound upon is, “No effort is wasted.” That phrase occurred to me at work this morning as I struggled up the stairs with my heavy bag. My bag is heavier than previously, because I switched my lunch to salad instead of sandwich. You wouldn’t think a small thermos would weigh so much more than a pita pocket (whole wheat, of course), but it totally does. But, I told myself, the extra effort will at least burn a calorie or two. No effort is wasted, I went on. Any effort can make us stronger or teach us something.

Last night I was suffering from a bit of angst and wanted to post a Facebook status of “Does anybody care if I run the stupid Boilermaker?” What I wanted to see was comments like, “Yes, we like to read your running blogs,” or “I’ll look for you on the TV coverage” (my sister Cheryl saw me on TV the first year I ran), or even, “Hell, yeah, I’m not going to run it!” What I figured I would get was things like, “Do what YOU want to do,” and “These things are meaningless unless you do them for yourself.” And I was trying to think up replies, like, “No man is an island,” and “I KNOW that BUT…” or even, “Duh.” Now that I think about it, probably nobody would be rude enough to say, “What possible good can it do ME if YOU run the Boilermaker?” But you never know.

Now I have a potential answer to my internal Boilermaker debate. No effort is wasted. If I run the Boilermaker, my effort to do so is not wasted. If I don’t run the Boilermaker, my efforts at training are not wasted. What a comforting thought. Although I can’t help thinking I’d like it if somebody else would be a little bit happy if I ran it. How lame is that?

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The Movie Should Have Been Invisible

Posted on May 25, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I don’t know that I’m technically qualified to review my latest cheesy horror viewing. I did not fall asleep this time. I left the room to check my Facebook notifications. I can’t even pretend I was expecting something important; I was just bored. Steven told me I didn’t miss much, but still.

On the other hand, I write a silly blog. It’s not like I’m influencing voters for the Academy Awards. And if I was trying to influence them, well, that’s on them to remain unbiased. My conscience is clear.

It might perhaps be a good idea to insert a spoiler alert here. I will soon give away such plot points as I could discern from this timewaster. I normally hate to give things away and am often at great pains not to, so as not to spoil anybody’s viewing pleasure. But I’m telling you, don’t watch this movie. It’s dull. If you really think you might want to see this movie and you like to be surprised… well I doubt you will be surprised anyways. So read my review or don’t. Watch the movie or don’t (Don’t!). My conscience is clear.

The Invisible Ghost (1941) stars Bela Lugosi, which should be a selling point. I suppose I ought to know better (but I’ve mentioned before how I almost never do what I ought to do). The movie begins creepily enough, with Bela having a formal dinner with a wife who is not there (the cliche there being that a lot of guys would like that set up) (misogynist bastards). Next we hear something about some murders that are happening, although it seemed to me that nobody was getting too exercised about it.

Then we see the missing wife. Some servant is hiding her until she feels better after the accident. It should come as no surprise to anyone that I was quickly losing track of this movie. I think the wife tried to leave her husband but met with an accident that affected her mind. You know that childlike state that movie crazy people often have. She has it.

Finally we get to see a murder. Bela gets to do his scary eyes and, as is often the case in movies of this era, it isn’t clear exactly how he kills his victims. He lifts up a cloak to just underneath his scary eyes. I suppose the director told him to be Dracula-like. Ah, typecasting at its Hollywood finest. And for anyone who thought revealing Bela as the killer was too big of a spoiler, come on! We’re watching a Bela Lugosi movie! Did you think he wouldn’t kill anybody?

It was shortly after this that I left the room and missed all the plot developments, if any. Just to obviate any need for any of you to sit through this garbage, I’ll tell you that at the end, the wife dies and Bela is arrested for all the murders.

I never found out why the murders were committed in the first place. I suppose in movie fashion it was something about him going crazy because his wife left him. Don’t worry, Steven! I’ll never leave you and thus induce you to commit scary eye murders. So once again, my conscience is clear.

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No Sweat! (Wanna Bet?)

Posted on May 24, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Since I did not run Monday I thought it would be a good idea to run Tuesday. Then when I heard that thunderstorms were predicted for Wednesday and Thursday, I knew it would be a good idea. (Please note, and I believe I’ve noted before, I did not say “I ought to” or “I should.” I almost never do what I ought to.)

It had been a sticky, stinky day. That is, the weather was sticky and I was stinky. I wanted to wash my work pants (I only have one pair; don’t judge me). I could multi-task by putting in the wash before I ran. My washing machine takes about 40 minutes: a 30 minute run with 10 minute cooldown would be just right. Did I feel like a woman with her act together or what?

Oh, it was muggy (I was originally going to call this post “Muggy Run” but I think I’ve used that title before). I thought at first to run neighborhood streets; no hills. Cut myself a little break. Then I saw that I could immediately cross German Street. I had to go for it.

Now I was headed toward Herkimer County Community College (HCCC). Could I manage the hill to HCCC, front or back? Then I remembered the unknown park. All those trees, all that shade. Would it be cooler or merely more muggy? I would find out. It was soon clear that this was going to be a perseverance run. Well, you’ll have those (that is my stock reply to myself when I don’t like something).

As I turned into the park and started up the small hill, I noticed two signs that said, “No Dumping.” I pictured people coming by later and saying, “Will you look at that? Right next to a sign that says No Dumping somebody has dumped a middle-aged lady wearing running clothes!”

Up ahead of me I saw three college-age boys walking. One of them appeared to be texting (aren’t the young folks always texting?). I thought he could text for a taxi for me. Or an ambulance. They were really strolling at their leisure, because it did not take me long to pass them. It can be discouraging sometimes, how long it takes me to pass a pedestrian.

Past the athletic fields (no sports games going on), into the picnic area, and soon I was on the path through the woods. An occasional breeze off the stream offered a little relief, but for the most part the air was hot and heavy. I noticed a number of large rocks I would like to put in my garden. The little devil on one shoulder said, “Go ahead! They won’t miss one or two rocks!” The angel on my other shoulder said, “If everybody just took rocks out of the park, there wouldn’t be any left for the park.” While they continued to argue, I thought about how much harder it would be to run carrying a large rock, and that settled that.

A couple more upslopes and I was on the back road to HCCC. I turned away from the college and ran downhill. Ah! I considered running to the spring. I not only wanted to drink some, I wanted to splash it all over my face. The sweat was running down it. I had on a sweatband, but that only caught some of the overflow from the top of my head. Every other sweat gland in my body was pumping industriously.

I thought of the bottle of ice water waiting for me on my (scrubbed, unstained) deck. I thought of the Gator Ade in my refrigerator. I thought of a long, cool shower. I stopped thinking about those things before they made me cry. I paused briefly to pet a nice dog. Her owner told me she was a year old puggle. Sweet puppy. I noted several rhododendrons with as many blooms as mine. I must get more flowers planted.

By virtue of running past my house twice I managed to keep running for thirty minutes. The sweat continued to drip as Tabby walked my cooldown with me. I tried to encourage her to stop and sniff only in shady spots. When we were almost all the way around the block, the most wonderful cool breeze blew over us. Heavenly!

I looked at the weeds on my front lawn and decided they could wait another day. These runs do take it out of me. But the Boilermaker is coming! I must persevere!

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“I Can Rock This” Run

Posted on May 21, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Sunday when I set out to run, I had a vague notion of running straight out somewhere where I could later drive in my car and see how many miles I did. I always run for a certain length of time and only occasionally wonder how far it gets me.

I thought I would run out Steuben Street. I know it goes on for a ways, and there is a pretty good hill. I like to run hills. I know there are hills on the Boilermaker and I want to laugh at them. My usual Sunday run, up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the front way, is a pretty steep hill, but I deemed it not so good to drive that way later. In point of fact, I have not run my usual Sunday run in a while. Maybe next week.

It was perfect running weather. Sunny, not too hot, no humidity that I could feel and even a little bit of a breeze. I crossed German Street with no problem (love Sunday morning traffic!) and headed toward Steuben.

And realized how far down German Street Steuben is. What’s that all about? This was taking forever! A glance at my watch informed me that in fact it was not. I distracted myself by looking at houses and other people’s flowers. Two nice hanging baskets there. I must get started on my container garden. I figure I’ll make a tasteful arrangement in the yard until the deck is stained and dried.

At last I was on Steuben. Ooh, that hill looked steep. Don’t think of the difficulty, think of how I’m building my muscles. Once I got closer it didn’t seem as bad. My problem now was the lack of a good shoulder. That’s one thing about the road to HCCC, it has a good wide shoulder. Luckily there was very little traffic.

There is a little sort of a soft shoulder. In the army if a soft surface offered itself, I usually chose instead to run on pavement. Running was difficult; I wanted each step to count for the maximum amount possible. That centimeter or so your foot slips back on a soft surface was just too much for me to deal with. An army friend of mine usually chose the soft surface as being easier on her feet. Today I ran in the soft surface. For one thing, my feet are bothering me since I need to replace my running shoes. For another thing, as I reflected this morning, no stern NCO awaited me at the end of the run demanding to know why I took so long (in point of fact, most NCOs I encountered in the army did not sternly await me at the end of runs; they knew I was trying my darnedest).

I knew there was a place to turn off somewhere along Steuben, and I intended to turn off, not merely turn around. I knew the place was there, because on previous runs I have run the other way and come out on Steuben. Naturally these things take longer going up than going down. Soon I was firmly in the “what the hell was I thinking?” stage of my run. I knew I could just turn around and go downhill at any time, but I wanted it to be a long run.

Where was that turn off? Was that it up ahead? No, just a driveway. Around the curve? Perhaps. I looked to my left through some back yards and saw the road I would soon be running down. The turn off must be close! Another driveway. A speed limit sign. Well, no chance I was going over 35 m.p.h. At last, I turned left and went downhill. Lovely, lovely downhill.

This was a quieter road. Still no shoulder, but no traffic either. I looked at some houses and envied a couple of porches. Another uphill stretch and soon I was going downhill at a rather steep gradient. I would almost rather go uphill than downhill when it’s that steep. I told myself to enjoy it, all I had to do was shuffle my feet a little and gravity would do all the work. Then my back started feeling every step. Oh dear. I know running is bad for your back, but so is being overweight, and running helps me keep mine down. Well, hills don’t last forever, up or down (and there’s a metaphor for life).

After a while my back stopped hurting. Then my right knee started in. Oh for heavens’ sake. Well, it wasn’t too bad. I got back to German Street and started toward my house. I had not run as long as I intended. The sun was feeling pretty hot by now, and I considered running to the spring on Lou Ambers Drive to have a drink. That was the way up to HCCC. I did not consider going there.

I soon decided to cross at Caroline Street, run down Caroline a ways then back home, for a total of 45 minutes. My previous longest time was 44, which I had thought to duplicate today. Then I thought, if I add 10 percent to 45 next week, that gets me up to 50. I could be over an hour in two weeks’ time at the 10 percent a week rule! Yes, I do the math while I run. It helps.

Lovely shade on Caroline Street. My knee had stopped hurting and my back was at it again. What was this, tag team? No matter, I was almost home and I was making my time. I had spent the latter half of my run in the “I can rock this” stage. I never reached the “I LOVE running” stage, but you don’t always. I consider that it was a good run. I enjoyed it.

These running posts tend to get a little long, don’t they? I didn’t even tell you all the silly things I was thinking of at the time. Perhaps for a future post.

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What the Deck

Posted on May 20, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Anybody who was reading my blog last year in May and June (was there anybody? I dare not hope) knows I love to have a container garden on my deck. I grow flowers and herbs, and generally go overboard and have to search my house for things that can be used for more containers. I’ve been noticing, though, that my deck has been looking pretty shabby. I’m trying to do something about it.

My first move, as usual in these cases, was to consult my father. He knows many things. He suggested I stain the deck after first scrubbing it. I should scrub it with a powdered cleanser made for such a purpose, possibly containing tri-sodium phosphate, if I could find any.

Dad said I would have to let the deck dry thoroughly between scrubbing and staining. I could scrub one weekend and stain the next. I thought I might better purchase the stuff I needed to scrub it with right away. The sooner it started sitting around my house till I got sick of looking at it, the sooner I would get to scrubbing.

After working till 11:00 Saturday morning I stopped by Aubuchon Hardware in Herkimer on my way home. Aubuchon is our go-to place for many things garden, pet and home. They are so helpful there. I was pretty sure somebody would advise me. I thought it would be OK to go straight there in what I think of as all my blue collar glory. That means my steel-toed work shoes and BDU pants from the army.

They were doing a booming business when I arrived. Well, mid-day Saturday is prime shopping time. I should have remembered. I made my way to the paint section and started looking for myself.

I finally located something called TSP-PF, phosphate free heavy duty cleaner. I supposed phosphate free is what they replaced tri-sodium phosphate with when they figured out it was bad for some reason. You know my father’s generation. They didn’t know anything was ever bad for you. That’s why they all smoked and/or ate bacon for breakfast every day. Who says they weren’t the good old days? But I digress.

The stuff said right on the box it was good to clean decks with prior to staining. I perused the box carefully, to be sure I had everything I needed. Then I pondered buckets. I chose one to mix in, handily marked with quarts, ounces and liters; and a larger one to pour the completed mix in.

After unsuccessfully looking for a scrubber and staring indecisively at gloves, I found a lady free to help me. She found me the right scrubber and recommended some heavy duty, reusable gloves. When she rung me out, she said to come again.

“Oh, I will, when I go to stain the deck,” I assured her. Actually, I’ll probably also be back to purchase dirt for my container garden. Like I said, the go-to place.

I got hit by an inexplicable burst of ambition when I got home and mixed up the cleaner (you add water and bleach; I already had the bleach). I put on the gloves, carried everything out to the deck and got to work.

What a pain in the butt! And I could have used a pair of knee pads. However, I persevered (a skill I learned from running) and got the deck scrubbed. Now it is out drying in the sun. I like the steps of projects that require only patience on my part.

Aubuchon Hardware is located at 105 N. Caroline St., Herkimer, NY. Phone number is 315-866-4931.

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Not So Fun to Run in the Sun

Posted on May 19, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Monday I tried but had a terrible backache, Tuesday it poured with thunder and lightning, Wednesday we went to dinner, Thursday was the Ilion Little Theatre dinner meeting… so Friday I thought it would be a good idea to run.

The more I think about this Boilermaker, the more I think, “What the hell was I thinking?” It’s less than two months away and I have been running like garbage! Well, the best thing I can think of to do is to keep running and hope for the best. I’m sure I can be up to running for an hour by the end of June. And I always say, if you can run one hour, you can run two; you just don’t stop.

It was a beautiful, sunny, warm day on Friday. Perfect porch or deck sitting weather. I say SITTING. I don’t do so well in the direct sunlight. Could I be part vampire? Nevertheless, I got on my running stuff and set out. At least my back didn’t hurt. Much. (I am over 40, after all.) I reflected that at least my leg muscles could not complain that they were not warm. My whole body was warm. Well, it may very well be warm for the Boilermaker. Hello, July!

I decided to take it easy on myself and run neighborhood streets with no real hills. This had the added advantage that I would not have to cross German Street in four o’clock Herkimer traffic. I mostly picked which streets to run down by virtue of how much shade I could see. Ah, shade!

I passed a lady next to an almost full U-Haul truck a few blocks from where I live.

“Moving in or moving out?” I asked as I ran by.

“Moving in!”

“Welcome!” I heard her yell thanks as I continued to run. You see how slowly I run that we had plenty of time for that little exchange.

I saw a Dead End street I had never run down. Remembering my Dead End Run, I thought I’d go down it. This one had a place you could cut through a very short patch of lawn and get out onto another street. Tee hee, a dead end street I didn’t have to back track on.

I ran around the H.A.R.C. building at the end of German Street. The porta potty was back (I don’t know if I mentioned it had not been there another time I ran by) (and I don’t know if current readers read the post where I was happy to use the porta potty another time). It didn’t matter though; I had remembered to pee before I left. I was good.

It was a while before I realized I was not hearing the ice cream truck. How unusual. I didn’t want to purchase ice cream, but I sure would have like to stick my head in the freezer. I saw a Schwann truck. I was going to ask the guy if I could stick my head in his freezer, but by the time I got to him he was crossing the street with a delivery. Just as well. He probably would have tried to sell me some food. I was feeling hungry.

There really were not a lot of patches of shade any where. I took what I could get. I got to the end of Green Street, where there is a traffic light on Washington. I could see the lovely shade of a church. I ran in place while waiting for the light. There was no chance I was sprinting anywhere. Aaah, shade. I ran around the side of the church, which offered a little more shade. Then it was across a parking lot and eventually to the shade of an abandoned building that I believe used to be a bank. Then running in place again while I waited for my chance to cross Main Street. Lots of shade by some businesses. A man was sitting smoking in front of Pete’s Tavern.

“I’m thinking a cold beer,” I said as I ran by. I wondered if I could return for it after I was showered.

My body wanted to go home and collapse. I kept running through all the shade I could find, even if it took me in the wrong direction temporarily. That was my sneaky way of extending my run. Closer to my house, some people were washing their cars. A little boy had the hose and was squirting his protesting sisters.

“If I cross the street, will you squirt me?” I called. The kids said they would. I ran almost to the end of street first, then thought, “Why not?” I ran by and yelled, “Hit me!” He mostly hit my legs, but it revived me enough that I thought I would to around the block then home.

Bad move. There was very little shade on the other side of the block. Me and my big ideas. But I persevered. When I collected Tabby and my bottle of water for my cool down walk, I also grabbed my crazy old lady hat. I wanted the portable shade for my face at least.

Oh, I felt like crap after my run. However, after stretching then sitting for a few minutes, I took my shower (always a good idea; if you can’t feel better at least you’ll smell better) and drank some Gator Ade. Soon I started typing. And that catches us up. This post has been in lieu of my usual Friday Lame Post. I’ll tell you one thing, though: a few more runs like that and I may be lame in more ways than one.

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Unsafe Lame Change

Posted on May 17, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Yes, I am doing a lame post on a Wednesday. I feel it is the wrong thing to do, but I thought of that title while at work today, and, you know, it kind of fits with the wrong thing to do.

I am less than one week away from posting every day for one year. Do I think something magical is going to happen if I meet this goal? Yes, I suppose I do. Please, nobody shatter my illusions. Let me just keep going for now.

This being a Lame Post, I do have a random observation to share. As I parked in the parking lot at my place of employment this morning, I noticed a car with the windows all fogged up. I did not try to peek in at the edges, but I just couldn’t help but wonder how they got all fogged up. Yes, you can snigger, I do mean to imply something naughty.

Then I thought, maybe I can get Steven to drive me to work some morning and we can do something naughty to steam up the windows before I go into work. Wouldn’t that be nice? I could go into work with my hair all disheveled and a big smile on my face. Actually, I have messy hair and a smile many days, but now it would be for a good reason.

Imagine my chagrin when I came out to my truck to go home and the windows were entirely fogged. It was an extremely humid, rainy day. So I guess nobody was doing anything naughty. Alas. At least, I don’t think anybody broke into my truck during the course of the day for the sole purpose of doing something naughty. If they did, that might be one for World’s Dumbest Outlaws.

And speaking of World’s Dumbest, I am missing tonight’s episode as I type this. But I see I am almost up to 300 words. A respectable number of words, if not a particularly respectable post (Lame Wednesday? Naughty things? Not respectable, I’m afraid). It was kind of fun to compose. And I’m one more day closer to my goal. Happy Wednesday, everyone.

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Not a Sleeper Hit

Posted on May 16, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I mentioned yesterday that I fell asleep during the cheesy horror movie meant for a blog post this week. Let’s see if I can write a post’s worth based on what I stayed awake for.

We picked Atom Age Vampire (1960) merely because it was on the first disc in our set of 50 Horror Classics. I had suggested we watch the first movie, but it turned out to be one we have on another set (that set also includes The Brain That Wouldn’t Die — my favorite!). The vampire movie was number two. In more ways than one, as it turns out, if you know what I mean (that joke was stolen from another favorite movie, Murder By Death)(I’ll explain it later; it’s disgusting).

Atomic stuff was very big in the ’50s and ’60s. A studio executive in the wonderful movie Ed Wood expresses interest in Bride of the Atom for that reason. Combine it with vampires and what’s not to like?

Well, I didn’t see any vampires as I know them. A guy starts killing beautiful girls to take… something from their bodies (a gland, I think, so you dirty-minded readers can stop snickering). I guess that’s kind of like sucking their blood. Nobody is feeding on what he takes; he’s using it to restore beauty to a blonde deformed in a car wreck. She was ready to kill herself, so I guess you could say her beauty was her life’s blood. To be even more metaphorical, I suppose you could say the killer is feeding his obsession with the girl. I am unlikely to say any such thing.

It takes a long time to get to the killing of beautiful girls part. First we have to meet the deformed blonde, before she gets deformed. She is an exotic dancer (I think; they never show her actually working) in love with a sailor who objects to her profession (how unreasonable considering that is probably how he met her). He leaves and that’s why she wrecks the car, which deforms her face.

Then we meet the killer before he is a killer. I guess you could call him a mad scientist, but I refer to him as the Bad Doctor in my notes in the TV Journal. He’s developing this serum to restore blah blah. Who pays attention to the technical stuff in these movies? (Oh, you probably do.) I was more interested in the assistant so in love with the Bad Doctor that she deforms herself (only her arm; she’s not entirely stupid) so he can test the serum on her. This does not make him fall in love with her (some of us girls never learn), so she goes to recruit the now deformed blond as a guinea pig (because she is somewhat stupid).

In a scene that was probably tacked on after they decided to add “Atom Age” to the title, we learn that Bad Doctor was in Hiroshima, where he learned blah blah. I told you I didn’t pay attention to the technical details.

The killings start because the serum, like a magic spell in a fairy tale, works but does not last. Soon the Bad Doctor starts turning into a hideous beast before he kills. I never saw a vampire that looked like that, not even Nosferatu, and he was pretty gruesome. I bet they added “Vampire” to the title, too.

Actually, Steven learned from one of his movie books, Video Movie Guide 2002 (Ballantine Books, New York, 2001), that the movie is a “badly dubbed Italian” film. We didn’t need them to tell us the film was badly dubbed, but I thought it was French, because the names include Jeanette and Pierre. I bet the original title was something quite different that translated oddly.

I fell asleep before the dramatic conclusion, so I couldn’t spoil the ending for you even if I wanted to (and of course I don’t). One other point of interest is that I could swear the staircase in one scene is the same one used in the Vincent Price/Agnes Moorehead movie we watched a few weeks ago (and reviewed in this space).

As a final note, I will share the joke I referenced earlier from Murder By Death.

Lionel Twain: I’m Number One!

Sam Diamond: To me you look more like number two, know what I mean?

Nora Charles: What does he mean, Miss Skeffington?

Tess Skeffington: I’ll tell you later. It’s disgusting.

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Oh My Aching Run

Posted on May 15, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I didn’t think I could do a Middle-aged Musings Monday after a Stupid Post Sunday, so I sought alternatives. First we watched a cheesy movie on Sunday. I fell asleep. I may yet write about what I saw before dozing, but wasn’t up to it today. At last I thought, here is my motivation to run: I’ll run, then I’ll write about it.

My back was bothering me all day at work. I didn’t think too much of it. I’m middle-aged; I have back pain. It does not come as a surprise (ooh, snuck in a middle-aged musing after all). I usually feel better after work when I’m more relaxed and when I’ve moved my body around some more.

When I got home, my back felt worse. I still wasn’t too worried. Driving can exacerbate back pain. True, my ride home is only about ten minutes. So I got quick results. I walked stiffly into the house. Steven expressed some concern at my running plan. I sat down on the landing to take my work shoes off and just sat there for a few minutes. Steven expressed more concern.

“Oh, I was just listening to Judge Judy,” I said. Then I dithered (I always say go with your strengths). How much pain should I or would I be putting myself in? What were the consequences of not running? I probably would not be able to run Tuesday due to an appointment. That would be three days of no running. Wednesday was free, but what if it rained? That decided me. I was actually a little proud of myself for deciding it. I have several times learned the lesson: when you can run, do it, because the next day it will probably rain. Now I was finally utilizing what I had learned.

I stood up and climbed the stairs. Walking around looking for my running clothes seemed to help the back a little. This was going to be OK. I had noticed earlier that it was a fine afternoon for running. Nice and cloudy, not too hot and no sun in my eyes. Why would I not take advantage? Maybe I could even do my Sunday run of the hill to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC).

I told Steven, who was still a little concerned, that if my back continued to pain me I would only run to the corner and back. I really thought that as I got limbered up, things would improve.

Well, I have been wrong before. I got to the corner and my back told me to turn around. I told my back to give it a few more minutes. Maybe we just hadn’t run long enough. I ran down German Street. I hadn’t gone a block before deciding that the hill to HCCC would remain unrun by me today. I had my doubts I could make it around the block. But I persevered.

I thought I could manage a 20 minute run. Then I thought I should at least do 15, because I read somewhere that 15 minutes of vigorous exercise… something. The complete thought escaped me, but I know I read somewhere something about 15 minutes of exercise. I would aim for 15.

I have written before about perseverance runs and how the main thing they taught me was how to persevere. I must say, this was not a perseverance run. It was more a grit your teeth and try not to cry run. Only I didn’t grit my teeth, because I have to breathe through my mouth because my nose is usually congested. I didn’t cry either, so that was good. I could still see where I was going.

Three college or high school looking kids were on the sidewalk ahead of me. They were walking slowly and taking up the whole sidewalk. Well, there is no reason they shouldn’t take up the whole sidewalk, I hadn’t caught up to them yet. Then they were going over this bridge and there was absolutely no room for me to go around them if I did catch up to them. Luckily I didn’t. At last they turned off to walk across the grass, cutting the the corner of German and Church streets. I ran all the way to the corner on the sidewalk. I felt pretty high speed when I realized I was going to be way ahead of them in spite of taking the long way. I usually don’t run that much faster than pedestrians.

I ran down Church Street, which was the quickest way back to my house. The back would seem as if it was starting to feel better then start hurting again. I heard a rather menacing growl. It was a large dog. There was a screen between him and me, but he looked big enough to burst through. Luckily he did no such thing.

When I got to the corner of my street, I decided to go around the next block. Then I got daring and went another block. My back was intermittently feeling not too bad, and I really did want to go at least 15 minutes, for whatever reason you’re supposed to. Past the historic four corners. Don’t tell Tabby I went by her favorite place without her! I saw a historical looking building for sale further up Main Street. I bet I could go to the Historical Society and look up if it’s any place important. These thoughts kept my mind off my back for another block.

A nice man let me pet his dog. He said he hadn’t wanted to disturb me when I was jogging, but I told him I liked to stop and pet the dogs. The pugnacious pug was on his porch — really an upstairs landing — barking at me. I think of him as the pugnacious pug, because I’ve only seen him barking through the slats. He is not to be confused with my friend Pudge, who is also a pug.

I ended up running 17 minutes. Tabby and I walked nine for my cool down. My back still hurts and I see I’ve written almost a thousand words on this. There may be a lesson here, but I don’t know what it is.

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