Brrrrr! At last it's Winter. Cold wind bringing the wind chill down close to zero. I tried sitting out in the sun this morning... but I could only stay there for 5 minutes.
This morning, I went to LabCorp to have blood drawn. That is necessary for the heart catherterization procedure I'm to be subjected to on January 15th. I'm not looking forward to it.
While waiting to be stuck, I watched an episode of Leave it to Beaver on something called Antenna TV. Which reminds me.. my daughter, Elizabeth lent me a disk with Beaver episodes on it.. I watched most of it and I guess it's time to give it back to her.
Jerry Mathers is still around and he announced that he found a cure for diabetes. He said it worked for him... but it sounded suspicious to me.
Antenna TV for 11 pm tonight will be showing an entire Johnnie Carson Show. I wonder if they do that every night. His shows were so much better than anything currently playing on late night TV. I always thought that someone could make a bundle by just playing his shows on a regular basis.
The blood-taker, Shawn.. a nice young lady who has three children.. 18, 19, and 10. She said they all had a nice Christmas and she is so happy that her kids are never in big trouble... however, she also wishes that they would stop "sassing" her. I told her not to worry.. a couple of my kids had me going when they were teenagers.. but they really turned out well and are good, honest, upright citizens, with children of their own. And... they sure are good looking!
After this little session, I went into the Comcast office to let them know that our remote does not work with the recently installed modem. It was ok as long as you didn't need to use a "1". They gave me a remote that is supposed to work with XFINITY... at home, I couldn't get the remote to work at all and called the 800 Comcast number.. They arranged for a technician to visit us tomorrow and straighten everything out. Meanwhile, I get good exercise by changing channels for Elaine by reaching up and punching buttons on the cable box.
Happy Birthday!
When I was an AARP President, I received a lawyer's letter saying that our club would have to pay a royalty every time we sang "Happy Birthday". I think it was around $25.. they did say that we could have "life time" permission to sing it, by paying something like $200. My response to them was: "Go to hell!!" No lawyer showed up to sue me.
Now, a judge has ruled that Warner Music (who claimed royalty rights to the song) never owned any rights to the song. Harper's Index indicates that Warner Music made $2,000,000 annually from this "cash cow."
Only One Meatball?
My daughter, Elizabeth, bought me an XM radio receiver that I keep in my "man cave".. I had been keeping it on the Opera Station... but since Margaret Jongquist died, I decided to try some other stations. Apparently, the Met made some kind of deal with Margaret to introduce hundreds of opera performance tapings, and they insist on playing them every few hours, even though this poor woman died last October or November. Hearing her vibrant (though dead) voice disturbs me a bit.
So, right now I'm tuned to the 1940's station and they are playing the famous "One Meatball" song. I love it. "You get no bread with one meatball." .. for your 50 cents, little man.
Another Friend Passes
One problem with living in a retirement community is that people die quite often. Such was the case of a nice guy that Elaine and I knew. Joe O'Gorman, who grew up in Lawrence, Massachusetts died this last Saturday. Joe was in the Genealogy Club with me and Elaine and we had dined with him and his girlfriend several times. I enjoyed hearing his Massachusetts accent.. that also had a hint of an Irish brogue in it. He was a funny man.. and conned me into buying drinks at one function... and he did that just as you would expect a Boston Irishman to do.
Joe had only lived here about a year.. and he had made himself a nice boyfriend to a scooter-ridden lady. I hope she doesn't take his passing too hard. But, it's probably not the first man of hers that has died.
Rest in peace, Joe.
.......................................enough.......................................................
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