Hometown News via Girl's Night Out

Yep, twas the big night at the Cracker Barrel once again. After establishing that no one was having a colonoscopy this month, talk went to De Motte news. This is the only time I hear any news about my home town since I stopped my subscription to the "Weekly Wipe" about 30 years ago. Most of the news is who died, who got divorced, and who had hemorrhoid surgery.

Actually there weren't many of the above this month which I guess is a good thing. Except there was an incident at the medical clinic that shook the town. A local resident, Ben Dover, was signing in for his weekly allergy shot (4 docs, no waiting) and all of a quickness started moanin' and a bawlin. Kept saying something about he thought he was having the "Big One".

Well, of course the staff shifted into action like a well oiled machine. The receptionist was to call 911, but she couldn't remember the number. A bit of paper shuffling went on ("I know that number's here somewhere"). The nurse brought out the jumper cables and was fixing to thump him a good one in the chest. When Ben saw the jumper-thumper, he started running around in circles saying "I'd rather die than get thumped!" By now he was hysterical and screaming. One of the Docs heard the ruckus and came flying out of his office. He chased Ben in circles and kept saying "just let me take your temperature!" Of course, Ben would have none of it. He made a break for the nearest restroom and almost was tripped up when he hesitated to look at the signs on the door. Being a modest chap, he didn't want to mistakenly enter the Ladies' Room. He had once accidentally done that in the Pizza King as a young boy and got the snot slapped outa him by Betta Knott, the oldest school bus driver on the grade school's mighty fleet. She was feared far and wide (in the north county, anyways) for her wide left turns. Seems she got her start as a tandem semi driver at the tender age of 16. Anyway, I digress.

He pushed the door open with a mighty shove and quickly locked it behind him. With his back to the door and his chest heaving from breathlessness, he again cried out, knowing the "Big One" was imminent. He was afraid there was no stopping it now.

Outside the door, the staff was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next. The receptionist had finally found the number for 911 and called for an ambulance, the police, and the fire department. As a fireman was getting his axe to chop through the door for the daring rescue, a gut-wrenching scream, "Mother of Heaven!" came from the other side. Then complete silence.

They all new the end had come for Ben. Each was silently thinking that they were glad the last words he had uttered showed that he had come back to his Catholic roots. His deceased mother would have been proud.

The women started silently weeping and the men unashamedly began snottin' and a bawlin'. The office manager felt that since the end had already come, there was no use hacking up a good door. She was in charge of keeping the budget under control, after all. She silently went to her desk drawer and got the key. Tears fell as she slowly walked back down the hall. They all gathered around the door for a short moment of silence before opening it and carrying out their dear friend.

It was then that they heard the faucet turn on. What? Had someone been in there and witnessed the devastating end? The next sound they heard was the blow dryer coming on.

To their great surprise they heard someone whistling. The locked clicked and out walked Ben. Singling out the office manager, he said, "I hate those blow dryers! I could blow harder than they do!" He then sat down in the waiting room and proceeded to open a copy of "Better Bass Boats". Noticing no one moving, he asked, "Well is someone gonna give my allergy shot or not? I'm dyin' here". A collective sigh was heard from the crowd. He was ok.

Later on it was learned that the cause for the flap was that Ben had got himself horribly bound up by eating a pound of Velveeta with crackers a week ago last Wednesday. Although normally regular, he started to panic at the 1 week mark. He ate a whole box of Frosted Mini Wheats the night before. Disappointed from a lack of results that morning, he downed a whole bottle of mint flavored Milk of Magnesia for breakfast (Phillips-not generic). He went to town and sat and jawed with the regulars at the coffee shop. It was rumored he downed 4 cups of black coffee before leaving there and going to the clinic. It was when he entered the signs of a major evacuation were becoming evident.

Unfortunately, the vigilant staff were more versed in heart attacks than constipation and of course, their minds went immediately there. Anyways, after receiving his shot and showing his insurance card, another person that had witnessed the hubbub asked, "Does this mean I won't see you at Our Lady of the Nativity of St Peter, Paul and Mary next Sunday?"

Just Give Me My Phone!

Shoot me. Now.

Ok, now that we've got that outa the way, can you tell I've had a rough day?

It started out ok. Got in the car and headed to the office. Trip unremarkable. The county cop that usually sits (he thinks he's hiding) on 700 musta still been in line at the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru. Since it's summer, there's no school busses to slow me down. I got about 5 minutes from work and reached in my purse for my personal cell phone (as opposed to my work on-call cell phone) and couldn't find it. Couldn't find either one. This was sooo not good. Ok. I'd have to get along without it. IF (that's a big if) I could. I'd have to. By gum, I wasn't going back home to get it and be way late. I'd be in the office anyway until 1:30, then I had a visit in LaPorte County and on the way I'd swing by home and pick it up. Until then, I had my desk phone at work. Took the office stairs two at a time and bounced into my office ready for the day. Ok, that whole last sentence was a flat-out lie. Drug my sorry, sleepy butt up the stairs, said "Hi" to the other ladies, and went straight for the coffee. Threw my bags down in my office and reached in my purse to get my cell to put it in its proper and accessible spot on my desk. Duh. Not there.

Had to make some calls right away and grabbed my desk phone. Shoot fire. I forgot that it putzed out last week with the big thunder storm and is dead. Only my phone line, no one else's, mind ya. Corporate hadn't come to the rescue as of yet with a repair man. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP.

Alrighty, then. I'd have to use the lunch room phone for my calls. Trouble was, each time a call was needed, I forgot and reached for my desk phone. Then, I'd realize and go to the lunch room phone. When I got there, I realized I forgot my rolodex with my phone numbers. I wore a path in the rug between my office and the closest phone.

My office phone is also my lifeline to the other staff across the hall in that it is also our intercom. So that meant any time we needed to communicate, we had to walk across the hall. HEAVENS!

I needed to call Mike to see if he saw my phones at home, but I realized that all my most important numbers were programmed into my phone on speed dial. Therefore, I hadn't bothered to memorize them and didn't know Mike's number. I didn't even know the number of anyone who knew his number. Later, Mike called and said he picked them up and had them, but he wasn't coming my way. Great.

So many times I went to pick up my cell to get a phone number in my contact file and of course, it wasn't there (I use that more than my Rolodex).

Another main thing I use my cellphone for is the calendar. I program my monthly schedule into it so I have a clue what I have to do on any given day. I also program each event with TWO reminder alarms so I don't forget. Without that handy lil gadget I'd forget what time I have to leave for an appointment and the actual time of the appointment. Otherwise, I'd get my head in my computer and miss everything.

Anyhoo, I got to my appointment in LaPorte County late and missed one of the people I needed to see. I was going to call on my way there to remind her to wait on me, but because I didn't have my alarm and was running late, I couldn't run by and get my phone from Mike to call her. A vicious cycle, it is. Anyway, I did what I could on that visit, but will have to repeat it tomorrow.

Ok, so when I got back in my car, I realized that I had to go back to the office. I had some early morning visits tomorrow (I was going straight there from my house) and forgot what day it was (because of no alarming phone) and forgot the supplies to take to the homes. I needed to call Sarah at the office to see if she could have the bags packed and ready, but doggone it, no phone.

I drove the 20 extra miles back to the office, got the supplies and went home. The debacle will cost me an extra 90 miles due to lack of alarms, calendar, and phone. (90 miles @ 27 miles to the gallon x 3.80/gallon). Mucho bucks-o.

Folks, I thought having an iphone was expensive. Today, though, NOT having it will cost me more because of the price of gas and wasted trips. Yes, I am too dependent on my phone. Don't judge me........

DUH.

Hm. I wonder if I'm halfway losing it. I was doing intense research last night on my computer (ok, I was facebooking), and Mike came in from VBS. I asked if there was a good crowd and he said there was. He then went into the bedroom and evidently got in bed to read. A while later I heard some soft music from the back of the house. I went to find out what it was and found Mike in bed on his computer. I said "Oh hi. When did you get home?" He looked at me over his computer with an odd look that said "What the heck?". I looked at him blankly, not understanding the look. Then it SLOWLY came to me what had happened. I vaguely remembered him coming in. Hope this does not happen again on a regular basis. Oh, and yes, today I have to get an attorney first thing today to fight Mike committing me to the bughouse. Y'all pray.

Ok. So I'm a technotard. I admit it.

I successfully retrieved some of my old posts from FB tonight. BUT--- (And that's a big but), when I posted them here on this handy dandy blog I got them out of sequence. I can't figure out how to move them around on this site yet. Maybe someday I'll learn, but until then if I were you, I'd read them according to dates from the oldest to the present. That will give you a little continuity of what the Girls were doing. Otherwise you'll be lost as two dogs (one dog couldn't be that lost) about their carryings on. Ok. Just shut up and do what I say, hear?

Girls' Night Out- It's the Little Things. February 19, 2010

Well, folks. Tonight was the big night again. The Cracker Barrel was hoppin' tonight. Brenda Allen came in with someone that I know HAD to be Elvis in disguise. I could tell by the head held high and that confident stride. Sometimes you just have that gut feeling about something. And my gut said the KING was in the room. I don't know who his plastic surgeon was, but he did a good job. Even down to giving him a perfect head. Only a few men have a head worthy of being shaved. The rest, eh. This guy was perfect. I just knew that if the joint had a band, he'd be up there gyrating and singing Blue Suede Shoes at the drop of a hat.

Anyhoo, there was the usual chatter. This month all had their calendars out doing the colonoscopy shuffle. They were all coordinating who was getting one and who was driving who. Then who was returning the favor. It is a beautiful thing to see folks working together like that. When I was watching the goings on, tears came to my eyes.
Char was back from the Greased Pig Wrestling National Championships in lovely Minot, North Dakota. We were all proud that she got all the way to the last round. Unfortunately, the regulations for the round were that all contestants had to use Crisco. Chars preferred greasy substance was WD 40, so that put her at a slight handicap right off. Now with the Crisco, you did have the choice of oil or solid. Char made a change up at the last minute to solid. That proved her undoing for sure. The way we heard it online from the paramedics, she threw herself right off on to the hogs back ( the dreaded Mr Porky, well known in the upper plains), she couldnt get her grip around his neck. He started his famous sharp veer to the left. She was thrown to his right and received a hip check from the swine. This threw her back onto his back but forward where she unintentionally head butted him in his occipital region. This immediately knocked her out and she fell to the sawdust covered tile floor in a heap. It seems ( the way the paramedics explained it) that she came to in the hospital crowing like a rooster and remained that way for bout 36 hours. By this time, the docs at Minot Childrens' Hospital (yes, she ended up there. What do you expect? It's Minot!) suspected a head injury. Thank the Lord, when she came around she pretty much was in her right mind. The only lasting residual Is that every once in a while she'll punctuate her verbiage with a few clucks and a crow every now and again. Kinda like Tourette's Syndrome. Those of us that are close to her understand and still love her despite this unfortunate handicap. Her students do make fun of her behind her back, the hateful little punks. We have been told that she may eventually come out of it. We can only hope.
Well, we were so happy to have her back with us that I watched with secret joy when she got involved in the giddiness around the colonoscopy plans. I'm just glad that she got back in time to schedule hers. It's the little things in life that bring the most joy.

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Girls' Night Out- Special Edition Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Evening, all. Thought I better touch base with you to let you know what's going on with all us gals. Of course, last Thursday we met up with each other at the Cracker Barrel. Well, four of us anyway. I think you already know that Pip's in the Tom Cruise Scientology Cloistered Commune "You can't get no cough syrup here, Boo-Boo" Rehab Center in scenic rural Idaho. Yep, she's facing her cough syrup addiction with a dogged attitude and vowing to beat the monkey off her back. (and get rid of the cough syrup problem, to boot). So actually she has an acceptable excuse for being absent this month, in my humble opinion. Peg made it back to Indiana in her 65 Rambler, still rolling along at 35 MPH on the little spare. Unfortunately, along about Nebraska she finally lost her back door that had been wired shut since 1979. Seems she hit a cow and the poor ol' bossy ripped off the door trying to get away. Now what she was doing in a cow pasture with a Rambler, I don't know. I don't even want to hear her flimsy excuses. I still think it had something to do with her time hanging around with the riff-raff at the Tastee Freeze in Downtown Pocatello. She's a tad bitter at those folks, I hear. Seems while she was there she got to smoking those cheap cigars that she likes, and finally the big Kahuna asked her to leave cause the fumes were making the soft-serve smell like cigar smoke. Now if you don't know about the Tastee Freeze employees, they are fiercely protective of their soft serve. Hence and forthwith, they gave her the bum's rush out to the county line. About the cow pasture- personally I think maybe, just for a time, she gave up the cigars for a little roll-your-own wacky tobacky. BUT, I can't prove it and her lips are sealed.

Anyhoo, we got to gossiping about Aunt Irene. Seems she was on the" We Be Way Old"Senior Citizens' Dating Website and met her a new man. I guess she's quite smitten with him, too. He's one of them Bikers on a Harley "Wanna Be". The way I hear it is that he bought a 1959 Indian brand spankin' new. Still rides it rain or shine. One thing he won't do is ride on ice or snow. I guess they say he used to, but slid going too fast around the "S" curve over by Thayer, laid it down, and broke a hip. Witnessess say it put him outa commission for about 18 months. I guess during that time he got so crabby that he ran off his 2nd wife (he outlived his first one, God rest her soul). Now, the way I hear it was when he saw her picture on the dating website, he thought she looked like Betty Davis, and wanted to meet her. Now normally, this is not the kind of man Aunt Irene would like. But he was a persistent ol' bugger and kept on until she consented to meet him on neutral ground at the Country Kitchen lunch counter. They talked and he kept winking at her. (later on she found out the had a particle in his eye that night, but I digress). She noted that he had a 15 inch long thin ponytail flowing from white hair ringing his head. The crown of his head was slick- bald with no warts or moles. We had grown a pair of white mutton chop sideburns (he was growing hair where he could). He refused, however, to grow a beard because he just knew the Moose Lodge would draft him to play Santey Claus at the yearly Christmas party.

Well, anyway, Aunt Irene was not so sure about riding the bike with him. The only thing she had ridden other than a car had been a Farm-all tractor back in the 40's and 50's. But, not wanting to be called an Old Fogey, she got on and surprisingly loved the feel of the wind in her dentures. Evidently, this has opened up a whole new chapter in her life and she has embraced it, whole hog. There's even a rumor going around town that she went to the tattoo parlor and got herself a tramp stamp. If that ain't love, I don't know what is....

Char was still in Minot, enjoying all the sights. Take it from me, when a small town girl gets to the big city, ya kinda hate to miss out on the big city offerings while you're there.

Barb had an infection in the site of her earlier bilateral bunionectomy and was oozing pus wherever she walked. Said she refused to go to the doctor because "He's got all the money out of me that he's gonna get!" One thing about Barb, she can be quite stubborn when she wants to be. Honestly, I still don't know how she walks in the snow with those flip flops on. She's says that's all she can get on at the present time. Oh well. I can stand it if she can. But it really does turn my stomach seeing her toenails turn blue due to the cold. But hey, it's her life......

As we were sitting at the table there at the Cracker Barrel, Sis was quietly eating her monthly meatloaf.
Usually she was much more vociferous than she was being. As a matter of fact, she had hardly opened her mouth all night. Now for Sis, that's really saying something. Finally we got her to confess to the thoughts she was having. Evidently she'd been at work at the Family Express and grabbed a quick snack. They had just got in some luscious Goo Goo Clusters and she partook. Unfortunately, she forgot to drop the money for it in the till after her break and was feeling guilty as sin. We told her to just lay low driving through DeMotte going home. That way, if the boss had seen it on the security camera and had a warrant put out on her, she could at least make it home.I did tell her not to squeal her tires or draw any unnecessary attention to herself to get pulled over. You know the DeMotte law enforcers would have her in the lock up sure as shootin'. I told her to just sneak into the store in the morning and go to the boss and plead and beg for mercy. Oh- and cough up the cash.
Sheesh. That's ALL we need right now in our family. Someone with a record.

Girls Night Out-A New Beginning January 3, 2010

I'm going to speak to you about something that has seriously affected our happy family. Addiction. There. I said it. If you've been following our life story, you'll remember that Pip was confronted with her cough syrup addiction and she finally consented to go to rehab. Woot! After a long drive courtesy of Peg and her 1965 Rambler, she arrived at The Tom Cruise Scientology Cloistered Commune "You can't get no cough syrup here, Boo-Boo" Rehab Center in Idaho the last week of November. The drive there was harrowing to say the least due to the fact that Peg drove all the way there on a mini spare tire that prohibits driving over 35MPH due to safety factors. Because she's a soft touch (Read: Enabler) , Peg let Pip partake of her cough syrup of choice- Delsym- the entire trip. She figured it wouldn't hurt since if Pip changed her mind she couldn't jump out of the car anyway. The Rambler's door had been wired shut since 1979 when it was hit from behind by an Allis Chalmers tractor doing 25 MPH in a church parking lot. The Allis and it's 6-year-old driver sustained no injuries. It was reported that the six year old was trying to ditch Sunday school when the accident happened. It was also reported that the Allis Chalmers was parked at the church by the pastor who used it to plow up his garden on the church lot. No charges were filed.

Anyhoo. The trip would have been very hard on Pip without the cough syrup. And not because of her addiction, either. It seems that when Peg went to Tahiti for her hula lessons, she acquired a taste for cheap cigars. What with the smoke from the cigars and the thin air during the climb over the Rocky Mountains, Pip woulda horked up a lung at some point. Instead, she laid in the back seat (in the fetal position) mumbling unintelligibly and popping Ricolas all the while. The Ricolas were a little anesthesia to help Pip cope with Peg's singing along with the eight track. While the sisters love each other alot, it was a bit much to put up with Peg's choice of music. Since she was a small child, she always had a heart for Zimbabwean Harp and Drums Corps music. That, and the fact that Peg had a "tin-ear" and couldn't sing on key for nothing. Of course, (being the loving family that we are) we never told Peg that she sang out of tune. Guess we should have just up and told her but hindsight's 20/20. Peg insisted on an expensive vocal coach for years which my Mom happily paid for (Poor mama was clueless, being deaf as a post). Peg felt she had a career as an opera singer when she got outa high school. But when she graduated, she took a job at the Tastee Freeze in town and started living the fast life.

During the trip, Sis kept in touch with the girls via cell phone. It was a bit coincidental that she had just taken a job as a researcher for Verizon. Every 20 minutes she'd call and say "Can you hear me now"?.
Unfortunately, Peg had Sprint for her cell carrier and anything outside of Poughkeepsie comes through garbled.

God bless her, Barb dipped into her jar which had the money she'd been saving to buy a new Harley (one with all the bells and whistles) and had given them money for gas and eats for their trip. Because Peg wanted to make good time getting there, they mainly ate at drive thru's.
They tended to frequent the White Castle Restaurants that were adjoined to Gas stations. There, they could get gas AND get gas. White Castle was Pip's favorite food joint. Peg- being the kind person she is- humored her.

The kind staff at the Cracker Barrel had all chipped in and bought a box of Moon Pies for the trip. They knew what a hard road this rehab stint was going to be and wanted to communicate their love. They even sent a to go order of luscious pinto beans. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.....

The girls were supposed to meet up along the way with Char for supper one night. Char was flying into Minot for the World Finals of Greased Pig Wrestling. Now this was THE competition that all GPW's (greased pig wrestlers) longed to qualify for. Char had only taken up this hobby in July of '08 when she saw it as the Main Event in the grandstand at the County Fair. It was love at first sight, and she hasn't looked back since. Luckily, Char, being the quick study that she is, took to GPW like a duck to water. She was able to qualify for the '09 Finals and Minot had quickly become a reality.
They were able to meet up at a Weeny Joint close to the South Side American Legion, where the GPW Finals were being held. This was the first real "sit down" meal of the trip. Peg and Char enjoyed a bit of conversation, while Pip slipped out to the 7-Eleven on the next block for a new bottle of cough syrup and a bag of Ricolas.
In a few minutes she was back, but ticked off in a big way. Seems all the 7-Eleven had was Pediacare Cough and Cold and Halls Honey and Lemon cough drops. She said she had to buy 2 of each because otherwise she wouldn't even get a good buzz going.

After they left Char in Minot, they continued on their way. With only one other major stop to try to get tire chains put on to help manage with the snow in the mountains, they arrived in one piece at the Tom Cruise Scientology Cloistered Commune "You can't get no cough syrup here, boo-boo" Rehab Center in lovely Idaho. By this time, Peg and Pip had pretty much had enough of each other. Peg let Pip outa the car, opened the trunk and threw her suitcase at her. With that, she peeled out (as much as you can on snow, anyway), and headed for the nearest Tastee Freeze located 20 miles down the road in Pocatello. She was ready then to Par-Tay! (You know those Tastee Freeze folks live on the wild side, even in Pocatello.)

We got a phone call from Pip when she arrived. Said she was ready to make a clean start, but was devastated that Tom Cruise was not there to welcome her. Evidently the Center is not run by Tom Cruise, he just pays the bills. Pip said that if she'd have known that, she'd have picked somewhere in the Caribbean with European guys running around the beach in Speedos to dry out. Sheesh, Pip. Cry me a river...........