Just completed the final episode of The Big C, a Showtime series starring Laura Linney as Cathy, a 40-something wife and mother diagnosed with melanoma.  Suffice to say it didn’t end well.  Or maybe it did.  Dying is inevitable and as Cathy went through all the classic stages of the end game she demonstrated a dignity, humor, grace and finally understanding and acceptance that was quite inspiring.

Painful to watch in places, especially this last one.  Brought back some painful memories of my best friend and soulmate Linda’s passing (I wrote about her here), and the deaths of my parents as well.

Now that I’m getting on in years my own mortality looms ever larger and the uncertainty of what I might do with the time I have left sometimes seems like an unwanted passenger.  But, my life is mostly good even if the possibilities are no longer limitless.  And I’m getting much better at not dwelling on the small stuff.  Much.

Anyway, it’s a good watch if you are so inclined.

Cathy Jamison: Why can’t anything ever go the way it’s supposed to?
Lee: It did. Just didn’t go the way you wanted it to. 

What an exciting end to the day!  After a full day at Epcot we took a nap and then drove out to Downtown Disney to check out the nightlife.  Not having much life (night or otherwise) left in my tired legs we didn’t stay long.  Re-entering the resort I had to show my Disney ID, which involved taking out my wallet.  When we got back to the room I was without said wallet.  We searched the car top to bottom and front to back.  Retraced our steps from the parking lot back to the room.  Even rummaged through the garbage can where we had deposited the trash from the car.  No luck.  So, I was facing the prospect of being hundreds of miles from home with no cash, no credit cards, and no ID.  Ah well, nothing to be done but start the process of canceling my check and credit cards.  While I was doing that, Jee Yeun made one more trip down to the car.  As I finished the last card Jee Yeun returned with the astonishing news that she had found the wallet.  Wedged between the door and the seat on the driver’s side (so the whole fiasco is on me!).  I happily called the bank with the good news and now I am once again golden.  I guess they don’t call it the Magic Kingdom for nothing!

Yesterday I experienced a first (and how often does that happen at my age?) when I sat and chatted with a 100 year old woman.  We even had something in common having both worked for the federal government.  Although she worked for FDR in 1932.  She was still sharp and witty and engaged and it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience.

I’m reminded of the reporter who was interviewing an local man on the occasion of his 100th birthday.  “To what do you attribute your long life?” asked the intrepid young reporter.  The old man didn’t hesitate in replying “Primarily to the fact that I haven’t died yet.”

…and he better hope he stays there.  Because when I read this I immediately thought of just one person:

“Who is so devoted to the park, and to the rules of grammar, that he or she would break the law to correct these mistakes?” 

Now, it could be that the Big Hominid is innocent of these crimes.  He’s never blogged about being in Brooklyn. But then again, he wouldn’t be likely to place himself in the vicinity of the illicit activities, would he?  I suppose it’s just as likely the perpetrator was some fellow traveler, taking his or her inspiration from the King of the Grammar Nazis.  Or perhaps the “mad marker” was hoping to curry favor with the intrepid Mr. Kim.

Innocent or not, I am quite certain that the hominid known as Kevin would agree that poor grammar should, nay must, be corrected whenever and wherever it is discovered.  And that makes him guilty by association in my book!

Having said that, if the Brooklyn grammar vigilante turns out to be female (especially one with a round American butt) a romance made in heaven may be in the offing.  It’s not everyday you find a soul mate in this world of forgotten grammatical correctness, hackneyed word-smithing, and generally sloppy, lazy and ignorant writing.  Hey, I think that’s just about a perfect description of this here blog.

Cheers!
 

Scott Johnson from the PowerLine blog offers up his experience following the Taubes low carb/high fat diet.

Unlike Mr. Johnson, I’m still craving the sweets.   It is almost painful to walk sadly past the ice cream, pies, cakes and cookies at my neighborhood Publix supermarket.  I’m resisting the urge, but not liking the self-denial.  Tonight I had two small bites of my granddaughter’s birthday cake.  It’s practically unAmerican  I tell ya.

On a lighter note, Johnson links to this clip from the Woody Allen classic film Sleeper.  I wish, I wish, I wish!

Update: Geez, even Barney Fife knew about carbohydrates in 1964!  No wonder he was so frickin’ skinny.

I generally don’t open email from people I don’t know.  If unsure, I sometimes will check the full email address of the sender which is normally a dead giveaway for spammers.  This one was just your standard gmail account, so I opened it.  This is what it said:

“Hello, There are two primary choices in life: to accept conditions as they exist, or accept the responsibility for changing them.

Sorry to bother you with this message, I came across your summary, while searching for an old colleague of mine and decided to send a message to you.”

I can’t figure out what the purpose or benefit derived by the sender in putting this message in my inbox.  None of my virus alarms went off when I opened the email.  Obviously, I won’t be so foolhardy as to respond.

Lots of excitement and intrigue in my life, wouldn’t you say?

Addenda Addendum:  This sentence is problematic: “I can’t figure out what the purpose or benefit derived by the sender in putting this message in my inbox.”  I know it needs a “was” or something, or maybe trying to get purpose and benefit in the same line was too much.  Anyway, I could and probably should fix it, but believe it or not this was the simpler course of action.  I only have one reader who will care (truth be told, I may only have one reader period), and it’s good to tweak him with bad grammar and/or poorly crafted sentences now and again.

My name has been misspelled many times and in many ways over the years.  But never quite like this.

When I first saw it I thought it read John McCarby.  Does hunger affect reading comprehension?

I had so much fun completing all the paperwork for Jee Yeun’s fiancee visa.  Now my Uncle Sam has generously allowed me to complete essentially the same documents for the permanent residency process.  And all it’s costing me is a piddlin’ $1070.00!  Is this a great country or what?

Alright, so it appears the Boston bombers were Muslims from Chechnya.

I want to say this here and now so there will be no misunderstanding. I don’t know a lot of Muslims, but the ones I have met personally have all been good people and I have absolutely no doubt or concern that they are somehow “different” or more dangerous than anyone else you might encounter in this messed up world in which we live. I expect some ignorant commentator somewhere will say something stupid that lumps all people of the Muslim faith in with the sick few who engage in acts of terrorism. The vast majority of Muslims are peace loving and almost all Americans recognize this fact.

I completely understand the outrage my Muslim friends must feel when they are judged based on the actions of a few or when it seems it is their religious beliefs that are under attack. Having said that, I’ve never understood why there is not similar outrage against those of their faith whose actions are clearly contrary to the teachings of the Prophet. I don’t think terrorism can or ever will be eradicated by warfare and drone strikes alone. Perhaps I’m naive, but I believe the Muslim community must take a clear and unequivocal stand that they will not tolerate acts of violence in the name of Islam.

I also anticipate that we’ll be hearing from the moral equivalence crowd saying the USA has killed more innocents than all the terrorists acts combined. Spare me. It is indeed an unfortunate fact that in war non-combatants suffer greatly. We all grieve when the women and children the cowardly terrorists surround themselves with become victims. But unless and until Americans start planting IEDs in public places or fly planes into office buildings, your comparisons are complete and utter bullshit.

In a kill or be killed world, we are going to continue to take out the bad guys whenever and wherever we find them. It’s a war on terrorists, not Muslims.

Everything.  Well, everything is not on except Comedy Central.

Alright, truth be told I don’t watch much television.  I have a few shows I like (Game of Thrones, Shameless, and such) which I normally record on the DVR and watch when the mood strikes me.  It’s been about a week I guess (Jee Yeun’s kids have been watching Korean dramas on Netflix), and I wanted to see the latest episode of GoT.   When I turned on the DirectTV box, I got this message that the receiver was overheating and to wait.  So, I just unplugged it and waited.  When I turned it back on the only channel that worked was the aforementioned Comedy Central.

I’m pretty much a techno peasant, so I called DirectTV’s customer service department.  Geez, navigating the maze of recorded options was disconcerting.  Hell, that damn robotic voice and I got into a bit of an argument.  Me: I want to talk to a human being.  Her: I don’t understand what you are saying.  Me:  A service rep.  Her:  I still don’t understand.  Select an option on your keypad.  Me:  There is no option I want, other than to talk to someone who actually breathes.  Her:  I’m sorry, I don’t understand your request.  After awhile we both got frustrated and the robot woman transferred me to her human overseer.

The friendly and breathing woman in tech support began by thanking me for being a loyal customer of DirectTV since 2011.  Then she asked what was the problem?  I told her my satellite was not working.  So, she walked me through a diagnostic procedure on the receiver, at the end of which it advised that my receiver was not receiving a signal.  Yep, that much I knew.  The friendly human said the dish could be out of alignment or there could be something wrong with the receiver.   Alright then, what’s the fix?  She said they’d have to send a technician out to have a look.  For $29.95!

I told her let’s get this straight.  I’m paying you guys over a hundred bucks a month for 300 channels I rarely watch.  And when I want to watch one and can’t, you are going to charge me an additional 30 dollars to fix it?  She said it’s normally $49.95 for a service call, but because I’m such a loyal customer I was getting a discount.  Hmm.  It felt more like a good rogering.  So, I said I have a better idea, why don’t you transfer me to the department where I cancel my DirectTV service?  She obliged.

Shortly thereafter I was connected with Ron in customer service.  He began by thanking me for being a loyal customer since 2011 and asked how he could help.  I responded that I wanted to cease being a loyal customer effective immediately.  He sounded somewhat taken aback and asked why I wanted to do such a thing.  I explained that I was paying for TV I couldn’t watch and wasn’t willing to pay an additional fee to get what I was paying for already.  He then went into this long drawn out story about how leasing the DirectTV receiver was just like leasing a car.  He concluded by asking “now, you don’t expect the car dealer to provide free repairs and maintenance on the leased car do you?”

I was momentarily dumbfounded.  I wasn’t seeking to get a free oil change for my satellite receiver.  I’ve never leased a car, but when I buy one it comes with a warranty.  So, if the engine blows up after two years I expect it will be fixed for free.  Several pithy and unfriendly things to say to Ron crossed my mind, but he seemed like a nice enough fella so I just said “let’s just cancel the service.”  Ron wasn’t having any of that.  He suggested I buy a service plan that would cover problems like this for only five dollars a month.  Which means if I had another problem within six months, I’d be golden.  That didn’t strike me as a good value so I declined.  He reminded me that the service call had already been reduced from the normal $49.95 based on my loyalty, but I just wasn’t buying it.

“Here’s the thing, Ron” I told him “You guys aren’t the only game in town.  AT&T is always knocking at my door trying to get me on board with their TV service.  How about you just cancel my account and I’ll get some brand new equipment from them?”    Well, then Ron went on and on about how much better DirectTV was than AT&T–more channels, more HD, more everything!  I told him that other than HBO and Showtime I get just about everything I want to see on Netflix anyway.  “Netflix!” he almost shouted “Why do you have Nexflix? We’ve got everything Netflix has!”  Well, except for the Korean dramas.  Always the salesman, Ron said we have an international satellite service too.  Well, yeah.  But it requires putting another dish on the roof and an additional sixty bucks a month.  No thanks.

Admitting defeat, Ron finally said that he would waive the service call fee.  So, they’ll be out tomorrow to fix whatever is troubling my television reception.  Poor guy.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d be cancelling anyway prior to my return to Korea in August.  I had to respect his moxie.  I guess that’s why I’m such a good and loyal customer.

I pretty much starved myself today.  Not really by choice, just got busy with stuff and since snacking is such a hassle in the LCHF lifestyle…well actually that’s not it.  I’m just pretty bored with what I can eat that I don’t enjoy it enough to be bothered.  I had a few celery stalks with peanut butter for breakfast and nibbled on some nuts in the afternoon.  And then I got hungry.

So, I looked in the cabinet and what did I see but some walnut brownie mix (purchased late last year pre-diet).  Just because I’m doomed to a life of blandness doesn’t mean everyone around me has to suffer, right?  Ah, they surely did smell good in the oven.  I’m told they tasted real fine as well.

Then I took some New York strip steaks out of the freezer (I can’t afford rib-eyes anymore!) and drenched them is some Lawry’s herb and garlic marinade.  Popped some sweet taters in the oven, and boiled up some corn-on-the-cob.  And then baked a loaf of garlic bread too (ok, it was one of those frozen ones).   I put some burgers on the grill with the steaks so I could enjoy a meatier breakfast tomorrow.

My timing wasn’t perfect, the burgers were closer to charcoaled than charbroiled.   But the steaks were nice and medium, just the way my Korean family prefers them.  The potatoes were baked to a gooey softness, the corn sweet, and the bread crispy.

So yeah, I went a little off plan tonight, diet wise.  Had half a small sweet potato (with a glob of real butter and a sprinkle of cinnamon), a crust of garlic bread, but I passed on a taste of the brownie dessert fearing I’d not be able to stop myself.  I’m pleased to report my hunger is now pretty much satiated.  Although writing about what I ate does kind of work up a bit of an appetite.  Hmmm.

So last night I drive out to Aiken, SC for a darts tourney.  It takes about an hour and 15 minutes to get to the VFW post which serves as the venue.  I’ve driven it two or three times before, but not since last September.  And never on a dark, rainy, foggy night.

There are two ways to go–one through Aiken with multiple traffic signals, and the back way down narrow country roads.  I prefer the back way.  There are a couple of turns you have to make, but I figured with my trusty Garmin GPS navigation system I was golden.  Except my Garmin was non-functioning due to a missing power cable (my son had borrowed it and apparently returned it with the wrong cable).  Alright, no worries I figured, I can remember the way.

And I did remember, for the most part.  I made all the right turns except the last one.  Of course I didn’t realize the error of my ways until I was 15 minutes down the wrong road.  And I had about 15 minutes to get to the tourney, so there was no turning back.  I reckoned I was going in generally the correct direction, but given the twisting, turning nature of the highway I couldn’t be sure.  I realized that I had made the turn too soon, but calculated this road could potentially drop me in the vicinity of my destination, albeit further up the street.

So I kept driving and driving.  It was, ahem, black as night and I couldn’t see much except the occasional ramshackle farm house.  I could almost swear I heard faint echos of dueling banjos playing in the distance.  I was seemingly the only car on this road to nowhere and there was nary a gas station or convenience store in sight.  Not that I would have stopped and asked for directions mind you.

Eventually I came to a fork in the road, so I took it.  I hoped that bearing right was the correct choice, but at this point I was pretty much without a clue.  Then I came to an intersection and chose to go west.  It was a pretty major highway and I figured it had to lead somewhere.  Although when I saw a sign for the University of Georgia conference center I was more than a little concerned.  Well, turns out I wasn’t in Georgia but I was still pretty far from where I was supposed to be and still wasn’t clear on just how to get there.  So, I figured the tourney wasn’t going to be happening for me despite my best efforts.

After awhile things seemed more familiar and sure enough I spied the road to the VFW on the left (it should have been on the right).  I figured they’d already completed the draw, but they were sitting on 33 players, so I was the odd man in!

Played the tourney, took a fourth place (which isn’t bad considering how out of sorts I was upon arrival).  We finished after midnight, but I braved “the back way” for the return trip.  I saw where I had gone wrong (turned one road too soon, but that made all the difference).  Made it to I-20 and had the highway pretty much to myself.  It was raining like crazy though and I remembered the Big Hominid doing a crash and burn due to hydroplaning, so I slowed down to the speed limit.

Made it home by 1:30, tired and hungry.  Now, in the olden days I would have fixed myself a big bowl of ice cream but sadly those days are in my past.  Instead, I took out some cook and serve roast beef slices from the freezer and popped them in the microwave.  The instructions clearly state to let the package stand for two minutes after cooking.  I was hungry so the hell with that!  Wound up with two big steam blisters on my left hand.  Hurt like a motherfucker all night.  At least it wasn’t my dart throwing hand.

I’m back to Aiken this morning to play in a qualifying tourney for the Regionals in Augusta next weekend.  I’ll have to throw better than I did last night, that’s for sure.   But, by gawd, I know my way to the VFW now.  Even in daylight!

Home safe and sound in South Carolina. Customs sent me over to the Agricultural Inspection area. Guy there asked what I had in the suitcase and I said kimchi (and that’s all that was in the suitcase) and he asked me “what’s that?” Ok, maybe I’ve been in Korea too long but I kinda assume everyone knows what kimchi is. So, for a moment I wasn’t sure how to respond. I finally said it was sorta like pickled cabbage. Which of course doesn’t do it justice.

He then went off to consult with another government agent and shortly thereafter the suitcase was opened. They took one look (or maybe it was one whiff) closed the bag and told me I could be on my way with my kimchi.

This guy got the concept of “horseman” incredibly wrong.

Again.

(To be clear, I don’t see it.  But my betters on the left have decreed the ad racist, and if I don’t go along, well, that would make me…racist!)

…women should be disarmed.

Not much of a surprise though.  After all, Broadwell had been “embedded” in Afghanistan for months…