Getting Emails.

I don’t really get that many.  Never did really,  even before wandering off into “Blog Land”.   Ever since then I just figure that anyone who wants to know what’s going on, will have to suffer through whatever drivel I post here.

That can be a challenge some times of course,  since I can’t really blather on about certain subjects like I’d prefer,  but a little self control is probably good for me.   Trust me,  I have at least a half dozen good rants in me that are just dying to get out.  But NOPE,  not gonna do it.  (Wasn’t that George Bush senior?)

Oh,  and of course,  there had been MORE emails,  but I do tend to discourage those which come to me as the result of someone simply clicking on the “forward”  icon and sending me some stupid thing that I’m not really interested in.   I want to say to that person ,  “But,  how are YOU?”   “Tell me about you.”    They never do.  I suppose that would take some effort.  Or maybe some truthfulness?   It would be more interesting I’m sure.  Even if it’s only getting your bunions removed.  I’m here.  I can read!  And I don’t know anyone out there who is getting their bunions removed,  so you can’t say,  “Stop talking about me”.  

See how tough it can be?   Cripes!

 

So I’ve a had a couple somewhat interesting notes in the last few days.  One from daughter number two basically telling me that our fancy schmancy Whirpool washing machine that we’ve only had since about 2003 (I think)  is basically a piece of junk and either needs new bearings,  or to get tipped off the back end of a pick-up truck at Thompson Metals.  That was the fate of our previous washing machine,  but it had lasted 14 years up to that point.  That’s a pretty good life for a run of the mill washing machine I think.  It was a top loader and finally packed it in when the water was trying to splash up through the console.  Water and electricity?  Hello, not good.

We’ll see what she finds out.  Hey, Thompson Metals even have a website!  I didn’t see our old washer in that photo on the lead web page though.  Just a hunch,  but I’m guessing it’s long gone.  Daughter number two will give Fast Eddie a call,  and see what he recommends.  Don’t be fooled by a name like “Fast Eddie”.   He’s not “Fast and Lose Eddie”,  and we’ve used his services when needed for many years.  One of the very few appliance repair types that I let set foot in my house.   Most of them aren’t worth a pinch of coon sh*t.

I just now had to come back and correct something.  Seems I fell for the “loose/lose” conundrum.  Damn!

 

Then another email of note came in the other morning from Nan.   You remember Nan,  she came for a visit back in the fall.   She had been here the year before with her sister,  but this time came over on her own. 

Anyhoo,  she does have a few offspring,  as many of us do,  and it so happens that one of her sons will be visiting Vienna next month with a group of musicians.  Now,  I say “musicians” since they do have musical instruments.   However,  there are breeds of “music”  these days that don’t seem to interest me all that much. 

We’ll come back to that.   Suffice to say,  the group will need a place to crash,  since they haven’t quite been able to come up with any suitable accommodations up to this point.  Oh,  and by “suitable”,  I think we could insert “free”,  or really cheap?   But this is Vienna remember.

Maybe it’s the “country boy”  in me,  but I have no issues with putting up someone’s kid and his friends.  I seem to recall many a time coming downstairs in the morning when I was a kid on the farm,  and discovering people sleeping on couches and mattresses in the living room whom I had never seen before.  It was just one of those things.  They too were usually musicians.   Most of them penniless.

So I’ve exchanged a couple emails with the young lad,  and it seems there’s actually going to be seven of them,  but I think I may have figure out all the logistics of who will sleep where.  Originally there were going to be five,  so what’s a couple extra?

We have a certain number of beds,  and a whole bunch of floor space.  There was some indication that they do cart along a couple “mats”,  as he put it,  so I think they’re used to bunking just about anywhere there’s a spot on the floor.  I know where I’ll be sleeping,  so it’s all the same to me.

I thought it would be prudent to haul out the one air mattress that we shipped over with us when we moved.  It’s been inflated all day,  co confidence is high.

We actually have two of these things, and I probably should have shipped them both,  since the other one has been sitting in a closet back home the whole time.  Oh well.  Who can predict these things?

And the “music”?   Well,  there’s something called “Heavy Metal”,  and then there’s some sort of by-product referred to as “Grind”.   It’s a fairly apt term I find.   If you were to fit all the instruments in a big grinder,  and somehow manage to still keep them hooked up to an amp,  turned up to about 11 eleven of course,  that would pretty much sum it up.  But hey,  whatever makes you happy.

Just as a side note,  when I informed Travelling Companion where they would be playing, (click that one,  I dare you)  along with the name of the group,  she just said,  “Oh my”.    I had to chuckle.  The most “out there”  music she’s ever heard in her life was Frank Zappa.  And trust me,  at least you knew what he was saying.   I’ve tried watching the group on YouTube,  but about 10 seconds is all I can handle.   Maybe our parents were like that with the Beetles,  but I don’t really think so.  Well,  maybe the Rolling Stones,  they were kinda scary I suppose.

That’s enough details about that for now I think.

 

*****

 

Just a brief recap on the last couple days.   Yes it was an “Operations Review” on Tuesday.   Glad I got that right.  But the Big Cheeses that came in were only of the head office in Switzerland kind.  There was no corporate jet.   They had to fly commercial.  Boo hoo.     The company jet ‘Big Cheese’ doesn’t come over until some time in April.   I mixed up my facts.  

Hey,  maybe that group can ride over with him?  *rolls eyes*

 

Oh,  and I’ve been informed that it was midnight when T.C. staggered in on Monday night.  I wasn’t asleep.   Really.

Further to that,  it seems that T.C. ended up doing most of the talking during the big pow-wow.  That’s not supposed to really be the case,  but since English isn’t the first language for most of the others in the room,  that’s the way it goes some times.   As a result of all the preparation (Sunday and all day Monday)  she figures that they “finally get it”.   It’s a complicated business.   Even if I were permitted to explain it,  I couldn’t.

I’m slipping off into dangerous territory here.   Time to re-deal the cards.

 

One last thing:

This is yet another reason why I’m not overly keen on doing the chauffeuring thing in the afternoons.  There’s always at least one idiot who wants to play bumper cars.   There was no sun shining in anyone’s eyes either.   Wanting to yell something rude out the window as I pass by is always interrupted by the wide open road just ahead of the bottleneck,  so I always stop myself.  By then there’s no point in asking any of them (as they stand there with their accident forms) if they are in fact, retarded.

 

Gotta love the big city!   We got all kinds.

 

Thanks for stopping by.