The Beauty and the Beast

Apparently there is a television morning show called “The View” which features Barbara “I’ll Make You Cry” Walters, Joy “I Wanna Be Like Rosie” Behar, Elisabeth “I’m Cute and Pregnant and Almost Won Survivor” Hasselbeck and Rosie “I Hate Trump” O’Donnell. Now I’ve never watched this show but apparently it’s a show that discusses the same three issues day after day – Iraq, George Bush, and why Rosie is leaving – in which each sees who can interrupt the others the most.

Now I’ve never seen this show. If I want to argue about something I can do that with my wife. Sometimes we can be a mini version of The View. But that’s another issue.

Apparently, Elisabeth is a diehard Republican and is one of the maybe thirteen people who presently in the country support Bush. On the other side of the table sits Rosie who would rather have bubonic plague that to say anything nice about the President.

I was watching a YouTube recording of a recent show in which Joy had a whole list of things bad about President Bush. While people may agree with some of them (of course, this is a free country) some where just asinine, such as “He choked on a pretzel.” Elisabeth took offense and began to protest while Rosie sat stoically at the other end of the table. Liz then mentioned something about the “enemy in Iraq” referring to Al-Qaeda. Rosie then spoke up – “Our enemy in Iraq?”

From what I hear this is business as usual on the show, but this particular episode took on a nasty mood when angry O’Donnell blasted Hasselbeck for not standing up for her when the media suggested that she’d referred to U.S. troops “terrorists”.

“What you did was not defend me. … I asked you if you believed what the Republican pundits were saying — you said nothing, and that’s cowardly,” O’Donnell said.

Hasselbeck responded “Do not call me a coward, because No. 1, I sit here every single day, open my heart and tell people what I believe.”

The continued to let it rip with no commercial interruptions and split the screen to show the combatants simultaneously.
“Do you believe that I think our troops are terrorists? And you would not even look me in the face, Elisabeth, and say, ‘No, Rosie,’ ” O’Donnell said.

(Personal note – Look Rosie in the face? Ewww…)

Responded Hasselbeck: “Because you are an adult, and I am certainly not going to be the person for you to explain your thoughts. They’re your thoughts! Defend your own insinuations!”

After that Rosie let loose with a rocket grenade. She missed, however, knocking Joy Behar into the next commercial.

I have one thing to say: Good for Elisabeth. I may have issues with George, but he is still our President until he isn’t. I believe that while we are free to, and should, express our opinions and displeasure, we should respect the office of the President of the United States. Rosie, on the other hand, is a mean, bitter cow who finds good in nothing. I understand she is leaving the show because she and ABC could not agree on a contract. I wonder why. I’d liked to have been a fly on the wall during that conversation:
Rosie: “I want to be able to pound Elisabeth into the table whenever I feel like it.”

ABC: “No. You have to be nicer to her.”

Rosie: “I’m outta here.”

Like I said, I don’t watch the show, but I think they should replace Rosie with Jerry Springer. Looks like it’s becoming like that anyway.

Dogs… they ain’t human (are they?)

I love dogs. Our Golden Retriever, Charley, is as much a member of the family as me r my wife. When he frets, we fret. When he is sick, we worry. When he cuts up, we laugh. When the wonderful dogs we’ve had in the past died, we grieved. We get so attached to them.

The other night while Charley was asleep, he started whimpering and his feet started twitching as dogs do when they dream. I’ve heard that if you slip a piece of paper under its head and then put it under your pillow you will experience the same dream. I would do that, but I’m afraid that I would probably wake up in a dumpster with my tongue stuck in an empty can of tuna. I know Charley would be in canine heaven if that was ever to happen to him.

My dog is pretty smart, but some of those dogs that have been on television… whoa! I remember Lassie and how he watched over little Timmy. Lassie could understand his human masters and they would understand Lassie! Timmy would fall into a hole and he would say to Lassie, “Lassie! Go home and get help! Tell them I’ve fallen into the hole next to the pine tree and yellow tractor. Not the oak tree with the red tractor. Be sure to get that straight. Now go!”

And Lassie would run home, find someone like his mom and go “Arf!” And his mom would say, “Oh my goodness! Timmy has fallen into the hole next to the pine tree and yellow tractor! Not the oak tree with the red tractor! Thank you, Lassie!”

“Arf.”

“Yes, you are right. I’ll probably need a rope and he is probably hungry so I’ll make him a… uh…”

“Arf.”

“Oh yes… a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That’s his favorite! Thanks for reminding me.”

And there were others. Rin-Tin-Tin should have worn a cape like Underdog. Scooby Doo could even talk! But in all my born days if you have a dog like I do, you probably feel like your dog is the best and smartest in the world. I know I do.

I have to ask…

Exactly how many Skittles is this anyway?

My kingdom for a fire extinquisher

OK… I had a craving for some French fries. Not those wimpy shoestring things, but some real Ore-ida Golden Crinkles. I have a deep fryer, but cannot find the stupid power cord for the thing, so I got out an iron pan, and heated up some oil.

Mistake Number 1 – A big glob ‘o fries were frozen together in a big ball. I plop the ball into the oil.

Mistake Number 2 – I try to break up the ball with a spatula and in doing so, spill oil over the edge of the pan onto the burner. The cow has now kicked over the lantern.

A little flame pops up. I blow it out. It pops up again. I blow it out. It pops up again. It’s like those candles that you can’t blow out. Then it gets bigger and bigger. So I throw a lid over it to smother it. No more fire. But smoke is billowing like crazy. I peak under the lid, and find the fire is still burning after all. The fire alarm goes off. At least that works.

So now, I’m standing there like an idiot inhaling smoke trying to figure out what to do. I finally get an old t-shirt, soak it in water and throw it on the flame. That puts it out.

My wife has all the doors and windows open and smoke is pouring out into the neighborhood. Neighbors come running over in a panic. “Not to worry, I have everything under control. Just don’t call the fire department.” At least there was no smoke damage except to my lungs.

Eventually, all the smoke cleared and the fries got soggy, but not too soggy to eat. So I ate a few while the wife cleaned up my mess.

I gotta find that power cord…

Hiltie Bulletin!!!!

Your efforts for Paris Hilton may have paid off! Your very own personal Thank-You card complete with a heartfelt letter written in Paris’s own handwriting will be arriving in your mailbox soon. I suggest that you cancel all plans until pigs fly for the next few days and wait at home for it’s arrival so you can open it immediately and experience her genuine gratitude to you – her very best friend!

Hilties! Unite!!!

If there is ever a time to stand up to authority, it’s now! I know the law is the law, but sometimes the law just simply is not fair. As concerned citizens, we should contact our congressmen, the President, the PTA and especially Arnold Schwarzenegger concerning this latest legal outrage.

So what is all the hubbub all about? Well, here it is as plain as I can put it: Paris Hilton is going to jail for 45 days!

Yes, I know you can’t believe it, either. But it looks bad. The United Nations may have to get involved. What on earth, you may ask, did Paris do to deserve such a shocking violation of basic human rights? Yes, I know that drunk driving on a suspended license is involved, but I say again… what did she do? What kind of country punishes a celebrity of Hilton’s statue for driving drunk with a suspended license? Nazi Germany? I mean, even murder is now legal in California!

You may say to yourself, “But I am just an average, non-celebrity who if convicted of jaywalking and because I can’t afford one of those cool Beverly Hills celebrity attorneys would have to settle for a court-appointed lawyer would receive the death penalty. What can I do?”

Plenty! You can join the thousands, hundreds, tens of people fighting for her cause. You can purchase stuff.

But whatever you do, do something! Do it for Paris. You just know that if you were on her phone list she would do the same for you…

A little more about me…

What do people call you?

My friends call me “Curt”.

What do I call you?

Do I know you?

Ummm… no.

Call me “Curtis”.

What do you do for a living?

I interact with humanity in such a way that they express their desires to me and I attempt to make those dreams a reality. I do so with all the skills I possess at my disposal as I sooth the nerves of the hopeless by performing miracles to restore to them what they thought was forever lost. I touch the object of their longing and, though it is seemingly lifeless, or suffused with dementia, and reconstitute its normalcy to which gives meaning to life to said humanity as we know it today.

What are you? Some sort of god?

Sorta. As before mentioned, I’m an IT person. I’m the computer guru where I work.

Oh!… you work with computers. Can I ask you something? My computer lately has…

Do I know you?

Huh… no.

Email me for my service rates.

Oh, I… oh.

Yeah… sorry dude. It’s my work. I need to get paid for it

Wait… he doesn’t know you, but I do. Can I ask a question?

Sure.

My computer keeps saying system disk not found. Can you help me?

Do you have a diskette in your floppy drive?

Mmmm.. yeah…

Take it out and reboot.

Hey! That worked! Thanks!

No problem. That’ll be $52.75.

Wha?…

Does your doctor treat you for free?

Well… no.

OK… slip me a fiver and I’ll call it OK.

*&%&$%#@

OK. Next question.

I like reading your stuff. Can I send you something in the mail?

Is it money?

No.

No.

What kind of dog do you have?

He’s a Golden Retriever. He’s four years old and his name is Charley. The name was my wife’s idea.

So can Charlie…

Charley. The spelling was my idea.

Oh. So can Charli… Charley do tricks?

He can do a few. His best one is speaking on command. He is the official drive-thru dog of all the fast food places in town. The workers all scamper to the take-out window when the see him and he barks for them. Sometimes they give him food. McDonalds even has a stuffed dog at the window in his honor.

That’s pretty cool.

Yeah… They should give me food for bringing a little sunshine into their lives. But… noooo.

Sheesh!

It’s OK. If I’m really hungry, Charley and I split 50/50 once we’re out of sight.

Let’s talk about your work some more. What all exactly do you do?

I exactly go insane at least once a day. But generally, I manage a 100-node network and the nodes (computers) on that network. I install computers and software, fix them when users tear them up, listen to their lies when they say, “It just started doing that. I didn’t do anything!” and then uninstall some “handy” utility software that just hosed every printer attached. “Oh! I didn’t mention that. I didn’t think it would do anything.”

…*SMACK*…

I also listen to moans and groans about how slow the network is, how come I can’t get to eBay anymore (banned at work). I would be a good bartender, I think. I can certainly listen to people pour out their problems.

Sounds like you don’t like your job.

Oh, I love the job! If it weren’t for users, it would be perfect.

If you hadn’t gone into computers, what would you have done instead?

I probably would have been a band director. I was a bass clarinet player in school. Actually, I played a little bit of everything; bass clarinet, clarinet, sax, drums… even a bit of tuba. I made All-State in Georgia.. I was pretty good. Music was my life – still is a big part of it.

What happened?

My dad was a minister and we moved from Georgia to South Carolina. The church was big, but the school was small – the smallest public school in S.C. I still had two years of high school left, so I lost my opportunities. So I got into computers. It’s been a good career – over 33 years so far.

So what kind of music do you like?

I love classical – mostly contemporary composers like Copland, Holst, R.V. Williams. I also love soundtracks by Thomas Newman (Shawshank Redemption), John Horner (Braveheart, Field of Dreams) and John Williams (Star Wars, Raiders of the Lost Ark). I love choral music by John Rutter. I like a lot of pop and contemporary Christian and I love Bluegrass. I despise country, however, as well as rap, hip-hop, and anything metal. I don’t really like opera, either. I do like Big Band. Best Female voice – Allison Krauss. Best Male Voice – Harry Connick, Jr. I have sung in a few choirs that have sung Rutter and the Messiah by Handel. If you have ever sung either, you know what a wonderful challenge they are.

Sounds like you’re quite a singer, too.

No. I just know music and know how to sing the notes in tune and in time. No one has ever asked me to sing a solo, however. I suspect they never will either…*L*

Any last words?

Run low and fly high.

Welcome to my world!

Howdy. My name is Curtis (Curt to my friends) and I’m just a regular person who lives in the South. Being from the South, I tend to try to live life a little slowly. However, working in the world of IT, life sometimes moves at megabits per second and it’s hard to keep up. But I try. If you want to know more about me, just click on the “About” button just above my blog title.

Welcome to my little portal to the South. What is the South like anyway? Well, it depends on who you ask, but since I’m the one writing here I’ll tell you what it is to me.

There are two Souths – the New South and the Old South. Never having lived in the New South, I don’t know what it’s like to live there, but I’ve spent some time in it so I know sort of what it’s like. You have Atlanta with the CNN Center, the Braves and the Falcons, Centennial Olympic Park, skyscrapers reaching for the heavens, and Peachtree Street, Peachtree Drive, Peachtree Lane, and Peachtree Place. No matter which way you head, you are going to end up on Peachtree. You have Charlotte, the financial center of the nation, the Panthers and the Bobcats, the center of NASCAR and a smaller, yet no less impressive set of sky-reaching buildings. Life moves as fast as a Dale Earnhardt Chevrolet in the New South.

And then there is the Old South. This is where I live. I’ve lived in South Georgia, where the Spanish Moss sways in the breeze looking like witch’s hair against the moonlight at night. Where azaleas burst out in glory in the spring. Where football is king. Where the land is flat – you may drive down a road that is lined on both sides with pine trees and so straight you can see it disappear over the horizon. I currently live in the foothills of North Carolina close to the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains. If you’ve ever seen Dirty Dancing, then you pretty much know what it looks like where I live. The picture that heads my blog was taken at Lake Lure, one of National Geographic’s ten most beautiful man-made lakes in the world. I live in what was named the most beautiful small town in western NC.

No matter where in the South you go, people will wave to you as you drive by that you have never met. You will cut humidity in the summer with a knife. Coffee is served to you with a smile and a “hon”. Neighbors will congregate on porches to discuss… well… you name the topic, we’ll have an opinion. Whereas in other places people have dogs, in the South we have dawgs. Caviar may be a delicacy in some places, in the South it doesn’t get more exotic than a pickled peach.

A quote from the movie Field of Dreams said “Heaven is a place where dreams live.” South is my heaven. Life is definitely slower here. But I imagine a small town in the South isn’t much different than one in Indiana, or New Jersey or Idaho, except maybe they talk a little funny. In all my born days, I’ve been all over. I’ve even been to Africa. But heaven is where I want to be, so heaven is where I’ll stay.