It's actually gotten crazier, though I've had the work Blackberry for nearly 10 months now. I'm still getting calls for the last owner of this number, wrong numbers, weird messages, and all kinds of odd communications meant for others. Last night I received a request to help with a hot wire job. This morning a collection agency left a message for Victor. It was time for a new answer message:
"Hi, you've reached Heather's work phone. I am not Victor, and I don't owe anybody money. I am not the person handling Ben's medical appointments. I am not coming over to help you hot wire a car. And I am not Bree, who was so-o-o not into your drunken sexual invitation that she passed off a bogus number to get rid of you.
I said this is my work phone. If I'm working, I'm driving, so I'm not going to answer this. If I'm not working, it's off. The ringer is off anyway. If you are somebody I know and want to talk to, you have my personal cell number. Call me there. Or you can text me here, and in a few hours or days when I notice I have a text, I'll get back to you. After all that, if you still want to leave voicemail here, I'll just assume you are too stupid to learn, and won't call you back anyway."
But if it's entertaining enough, I may blog about it and make fun of you.
I wonder if the cops would like that hot-wire phone number.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
What You Asked For
The national discussion continues on race. Following President Obama's comments on being followed while shopping because he is black, I've listened to many others call in to the radio shows I listen to and echo that experience, and many others, generally with strong feelings attached.
One added a little irony to his comment. While a store clerk was following him around, watching him like a hawk to see what he was going to steal, he in turn was watching a pair of white teens shoplift whatever they could get their hands on. Needless to say, they weren't caught.
I'd say the store personnel got exactly what they were asking for.
One added a little irony to his comment. While a store clerk was following him around, watching him like a hawk to see what he was going to steal, he in turn was watching a pair of white teens shoplift whatever they could get their hands on. Needless to say, they weren't caught.
I'd say the store personnel got exactly what they were asking for.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Well, OK, One More Thing...
Despite the overkill on royal baby news, there was one comment today that is worth passing on. It was attributed to Comedy Central - no program, no person, just the network. Since I only heard it, and that being hours ago, the best I can do is paraphrase:
The baby is eight pounds, or about $12. U.S.
The baby is eight pounds, or about $12. U.S.
Pomp and Circumcision
OK, it's a boy, maybe a king in 60 years or so. We have length of labor, birth weight, analysis of notification protocols, everybody healthy, man-on-the-street interviews, reporters interviewing reporters. We're still drowning in the coverage. So give us a name and go away. Enuff said. Seriously.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Peace
It's hard to come by these days, particularly on the large scale. So I've learned to love it in tiny pieces when it comes. Saturday I finally got my fishing license for this season. Yesterday afternoon I joined Steve and some of his family sitting along the banks of the St. Croix River to drown some worms.
We'd all been hearing about the great fishing once water levels dropped from this wet spring and early summer. That meant the shore along a public access south of Taylors Falls was exposed, allowing one to drive down the ramp and park next to the water so those with wobbly legs can have a very short walk to set up a chair along the shore, along with all the tackle, poles, coolers, etc. There's plenty of parking back along the top of the ramp once the car is unloaded, if you want to avoid the National Park Rangers who chase cars off the shore after a quick license check. Having one fisherman along with sturdy legs is a bonus.
Once set up, there's plenty of watching to do. There's people, boat and dog watching, particularly on nice-weather weekends, as this is a popular landing. The most interesting was a homemade catamaran rigged with two canoes and platform pieces across the top, graced with deck chairs, and one adorable Westie in a life jacket with a carry handle on top. Most of those arriving for pullout late afternoon had the sense and courtesy to pull in on the other side from us, but one set of kayakers pulled up to shore right next to us after cutting across our lines. We thought we had set up way out of the traffic lanes, but there are always idiots out there.
There's plenty of bird watching, including herons, turkey vultures, osprey and eagles, along with smaller birds defying identification. A barred owl could be heard across the river along with local dogs. Had we stayed later, coyotes would have been likely.
The riverboat out of Taylors Falls passes by but stays on the far side of the river in deeper water.
And of course, there are the fish. Red horse suckers, channel cats, and bluegills got hooked on our rigs yesterday. The previous night's fishing also brought in small sturgeon. By reports, all Saturday night's fish were much larger than anything caught Sunday - but that's always the way with fish tales. I wouldn't dream of suggesting there was any exaggeration going on, but the one picture I did see was fish, line, and background, with absolutely nothing to show scale.
A couple peaceful turtles hung out for a closer look, one tiny, and one huge and close enough to see the top of its shell emerging from the water and a detailed look at the texture of whatever was growing on it, while the standing members of the group got a good look at the submerged portions.
So with all that activity, you might be wondering where was the peace? It was in the pleasant weather, the shade on our side of the river slowly stretching across and up the trees on the opposite bank, the silence between boaters, the reflections in the gently flowing water, the sunset colors in a few clouds obligingly showing up for the occasion, the nearly full moon rising behind the trees, and the great company.
We'd all been hearing about the great fishing once water levels dropped from this wet spring and early summer. That meant the shore along a public access south of Taylors Falls was exposed, allowing one to drive down the ramp and park next to the water so those with wobbly legs can have a very short walk to set up a chair along the shore, along with all the tackle, poles, coolers, etc. There's plenty of parking back along the top of the ramp once the car is unloaded, if you want to avoid the National Park Rangers who chase cars off the shore after a quick license check. Having one fisherman along with sturdy legs is a bonus.
Once set up, there's plenty of watching to do. There's people, boat and dog watching, particularly on nice-weather weekends, as this is a popular landing. The most interesting was a homemade catamaran rigged with two canoes and platform pieces across the top, graced with deck chairs, and one adorable Westie in a life jacket with a carry handle on top. Most of those arriving for pullout late afternoon had the sense and courtesy to pull in on the other side from us, but one set of kayakers pulled up to shore right next to us after cutting across our lines. We thought we had set up way out of the traffic lanes, but there are always idiots out there.
There's plenty of bird watching, including herons, turkey vultures, osprey and eagles, along with smaller birds defying identification. A barred owl could be heard across the river along with local dogs. Had we stayed later, coyotes would have been likely.
The riverboat out of Taylors Falls passes by but stays on the far side of the river in deeper water.
And of course, there are the fish. Red horse suckers, channel cats, and bluegills got hooked on our rigs yesterday. The previous night's fishing also brought in small sturgeon. By reports, all Saturday night's fish were much larger than anything caught Sunday - but that's always the way with fish tales. I wouldn't dream of suggesting there was any exaggeration going on, but the one picture I did see was fish, line, and background, with absolutely nothing to show scale.
A couple peaceful turtles hung out for a closer look, one tiny, and one huge and close enough to see the top of its shell emerging from the water and a detailed look at the texture of whatever was growing on it, while the standing members of the group got a good look at the submerged portions.
So with all that activity, you might be wondering where was the peace? It was in the pleasant weather, the shade on our side of the river slowly stretching across and up the trees on the opposite bank, the silence between boaters, the reflections in the gently flowing water, the sunset colors in a few clouds obligingly showing up for the occasion, the nearly full moon rising behind the trees, and the great company.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Seems A Bad Idea
Steve went fishing earlier this week with a buddy who has a boat. They went out on South Center Lake. Last time they were there the fishing was excellent, lots of small sunnies, great sport for guys who love catch-and-release. This time, though they were out for hours, trying a variety of spots, not a single fish could be seen. Not a nibble. Not a jump.
Now I know as well as the next how possible it is to get skunked. Been there, done that, didn't need the filleting knife. But this time there was something else going on that may have had more to do with the bad fishing.
A sign was posted by the boat ramp, informing the users that a chemical had been applied to the lake for weed control. It worked.
It really really really worked.
Every plant in sight in the water was dead. Every plant they hooked and pulled up from the deepest bottom was dead. Every plant in any part of the lake where they traveled that day was dead. It's a really good sized lake. They traveled all but one bay. No plants.
And in case you forgot I mentioned it, no fish.
Now lake weeds provide oxygen to the water. Fish use that to breathe. Not enough, and they surface hang where air reaches the top layer. Still not enough, and they die. And stink. Rotting weeds also stink, though not as bad as fish. Makes the lake such a pleasant place.
Consider also that the rotting releases nutrients back into the water to be used again. First, by algae and other micro organisms. Then by whatever may still be alive after the poisoning. So for the plants, it's a temporary treatment. And in no way does it do anything to stop property owners around the lake from dumping tons of new chemicals on their lawns intended for growing grass but which primarily end up in the lake feeding new plants and algae.
I get that dumping chemicals is cheaper than going around the lake with something to pull out weeds. also faster. However, if you physically removed weeds, they could become fertilizer, or mulch, for gardens or fields. Useful, in a word. But now what have you got? Besides a lot of dead crap, that is?
All in all, it just seems like a bad idea.
Now I know as well as the next how possible it is to get skunked. Been there, done that, didn't need the filleting knife. But this time there was something else going on that may have had more to do with the bad fishing.
A sign was posted by the boat ramp, informing the users that a chemical had been applied to the lake for weed control. It worked.
It really really really worked.
Every plant in sight in the water was dead. Every plant they hooked and pulled up from the deepest bottom was dead. Every plant in any part of the lake where they traveled that day was dead. It's a really good sized lake. They traveled all but one bay. No plants.
And in case you forgot I mentioned it, no fish.
Now lake weeds provide oxygen to the water. Fish use that to breathe. Not enough, and they surface hang where air reaches the top layer. Still not enough, and they die. And stink. Rotting weeds also stink, though not as bad as fish. Makes the lake such a pleasant place.
Consider also that the rotting releases nutrients back into the water to be used again. First, by algae and other micro organisms. Then by whatever may still be alive after the poisoning. So for the plants, it's a temporary treatment. And in no way does it do anything to stop property owners around the lake from dumping tons of new chemicals on their lawns intended for growing grass but which primarily end up in the lake feeding new plants and algae.
I get that dumping chemicals is cheaper than going around the lake with something to pull out weeds. also faster. However, if you physically removed weeds, they could become fertilizer, or mulch, for gardens or fields. Useful, in a word. But now what have you got? Besides a lot of dead crap, that is?
All in all, it just seems like a bad idea.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Dear Florida,
Dear Florida,
I am writing this to inform you that I will not be visiting you. I have enjoyed gathering shells on the shores of Sanibel Island, watching anhingas dry spread wings on Captiva, watched glorious sunsets along the Gulf coast and pelicans gliding over the surf on the Atlantic coast. I've watched and photographed gators and manatees, herons and storks. I've enjoyed visiting much of your state and looked forward to visiting more. I have friends who live there in two different cities.
When I visit, I spend money in your state. I tend to rent cars, buy gas, stay in motels, eat in restaurants, visit attractions, buy souvenirs. Once back home, I tell others how wonderful my trip was.
But no more. I no longer feel safe in your state. You have the most extreme "stand your ground" law in the country. Anyone can think I am a threat to them and get away with murdering me. Who can tell what somebody else thinks is threatening? It doesn't require a "reasonability" test, just a perception. No one in your state should feel safe with that law in effect. And lest you think it may have benefits in the case where somebody may really need to defend themselves, let me remind you that in the same county in which George Zimmerman murdered a child due to his skewed perceptions and walked away, a woman who really needed to defend herself against an ex-husband invading her home to do her harm is now spending 20 years in prison.
You are insane, and I do not feel competent to cope with such insanity. So say good-bye to any future money I might have spent in your state. There are other places in this country to visit. Yours is no longer on my list.
Most sincerely,
etc. etc.
* * * * *
Dear Texas,
I am writing this to inform you....
I am writing this to inform you that I will not be visiting you. I have enjoyed gathering shells on the shores of Sanibel Island, watching anhingas dry spread wings on Captiva, watched glorious sunsets along the Gulf coast and pelicans gliding over the surf on the Atlantic coast. I've watched and photographed gators and manatees, herons and storks. I've enjoyed visiting much of your state and looked forward to visiting more. I have friends who live there in two different cities.
When I visit, I spend money in your state. I tend to rent cars, buy gas, stay in motels, eat in restaurants, visit attractions, buy souvenirs. Once back home, I tell others how wonderful my trip was.
But no more. I no longer feel safe in your state. You have the most extreme "stand your ground" law in the country. Anyone can think I am a threat to them and get away with murdering me. Who can tell what somebody else thinks is threatening? It doesn't require a "reasonability" test, just a perception. No one in your state should feel safe with that law in effect. And lest you think it may have benefits in the case where somebody may really need to defend themselves, let me remind you that in the same county in which George Zimmerman murdered a child due to his skewed perceptions and walked away, a woman who really needed to defend herself against an ex-husband invading her home to do her harm is now spending 20 years in prison.
You are insane, and I do not feel competent to cope with such insanity. So say good-bye to any future money I might have spent in your state. There are other places in this country to visit. Yours is no longer on my list.
Most sincerely,
etc. etc.
* * * * *
Dear Texas,
I am writing this to inform you....
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