Norm!

I've tooted off at length about how inadequate the channel selection is on my TV, so I won't go there; suffice to say I'm watching PBS while downloading wads of cr@p I don't need for my Sims. Two of my most favorite things to do on a Sunday.

So it's This Old House / Hometime hour. And I'm dreaming about how marvelous it would be to just be married to some Dean Johnson-type guy that could just make all the fix up decisions about this haunted mansion and just frickin fix it the heck up. Pick out the fixtures and the flooring. Decide how the kitchen should flow, knock down some walls, put a shower in the bathroom, take wiring from the 1920's and put cable and phone hookups in every room....and Dear Jesus? A socket on every wall. Truly? My wildest dream come true.

So while Dean is working for Habitat for Humanity, my mind is wandering back to the guys that do the work on This Old Haunted Mansion:

Norm Abhram wears flannel. He's been around forever. He can take a pile of half rotten boards out of an old closet and turn it into a china cupboard with lead glass accents. He's grizzled and folksy and barrel-chested and I bet he hunts, fishes and listens to country music in his spare time. He's nice. He's dependable. He's capable and comfortable and safe. He carefully restores things to their original condition if at all possible.

Richard Threthewy rips out thousand year old furnaces and water heaters and puts in at least a million BTU's of overkill. He wears button-down shirts. He's smart and sincere, always eager to help. He's kinda like the not-so-attractive rich guy that thinks driving a Porsche makes up for male pattern baldness.

Roger Cook is the gentle giant that yanks out dead trees and sickly shrubs and makes the outside of the house look as good as the inside. He wears Carharts. He's the strong silent type that nurtures the little Maple that will someday grow into lovely shade for the front porch. He's Paul Bunyon that flexes his muscles and picks up the dumpster with his bare hands and moves it to a more convenient location.

Tom Silva. Sigh. Tommy is the general contractor that knows how to do absolutely everything in the world. He wears fleece hoodies. He's got tools swinging from his belt and a Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand during meetings. He's beautiful. I've watched him age gracefully through the years as he climbs onto roofs and into crawlspaces; calmly telling homeowners that their foundation will cave in if serious steps are not taken. But there's no need to panic; Tommy can fix anything. Tommy is my favorite. Tommy is handsome and capable and funny and decisive and charming. Tommy is everything I like about men. I'm completely and totally in love with Tommy.

So here's my question: How come I only attract guys like Norm?

Disgusting

Is it me or are TV commercials becoming a tad too...much?

Gotta go gotta go gotta go right now? Although erections lasting for more than 4 hours may occur rarely with ED treatments, it is important to seek immediate medical help. Suffering from Abdominal pain or discomfort, Bloating and Constipation?

At least all the ads for that junk use medical jargon and relatively normal looking people to illustrate the nasty images they bring to mind. Eeewww.

But I just watched a big fat cartoon phlegm couple take up residence in some unsuspecting little kid's chest. And frankly, I think the phlegm couple might be related to that nasty toe fungus b@st@rd that gives me nightmares.

Did we really need to bring cartoons into this? Is nothing sacred?

Dylan

I'm watching No Direction Home on PBS. That, and copious amounts of beer, are the perfect antidote to the day that falls behind. And frankly? It's my absolute most favorite day of the year.

I'm grooving that my extra hour today is spent with Dylan; while I think about the roots of rock and roll, and protest rock, and civil rights, and how it took so, so many voices to shape, and ultimately change, the landscape of America.

Each and every one of us truly makes a difference.

How effing cool is that?

Awkward

A coule weeks ago at work I was rooting around in a filing cabinet for some paperwork from 1998 and there were two guys talking about cars and trucks and gas milage behind me. One drives a big honking pick up and other drives a big honking SUV. They're on and on about this model and that model and I'm thinking about how neither one of them can possilby get more than 5 stinking miles to a stinking gallon of gas.

I pop off with, "Why don't you both go get a Hummer?"

"I'd like to," they respond in unison.

Dear. Lord.

So that's pretty much an indication of how my life has been going lately....