Author: Steve

 

I still can’t figure out whether to be understanding and sympathetic, or pissed off at, Anthony Bourdain.  My immediate reaction was, how could he do such a selfish thing; deprive us of his wit and wisdom.  Not only that, he took the joy out of re-watching his older shows with the sadness of his passing.  On the other hand, consider that the best solution he could find for his pain was to take his own life; how awful is that for him to have lived with for as long as he did.

 

Darn it, Anthony Bourdain.

 

 

The other thing I was going to say about traveling.

 

In the rental car, there was no Sirius Radio.  Being by myself all day and night, I couldn’t just turn on the radio and hear a familiar voice.  I had a regular car radio though, so I turned it on.  It was preset to FM and I listen to that for a while and explored the options.  After a time, I got tired of Cuban music and trying to follow along with what they were saying in Spanish, and decided to try AM.  The first thing I found in English was Rush Limbaugh.  I don’t usually listen to right wing radio, but I’m open minded; I can listen to all sides of a story.  I made it about two minutes.  There wasn’t any story.  Rush’s presentation is not appealing to me.  It tends to strike me as whiney, and he was certainly whiney that day.  The irony is what he was whining about; Democrats and how whiney they are!  That was a little much.

 

Okay, so I moved on.  What else I found in English was sports talk radio.  I’m not a big fan of sports talk radio; I kind of like some sports, but I don’t obsess about any of them.  Talk radio does.  But you know what I got?  Familiar voices.  I caught a portion of the Dan Patrick Show.  That’s a voice I know.  And Jim Rome.  Jim Rome?  He’s still on the air?  I was immediately transported to the jungle; a clone.  It was awesome.  He was ranting about something or other, some football player who was playing and shouldn’t be, and some football player who wasn’t playing and should be.  It didn’t matter what he was talking about, or whether I knew who the football players he was talking about were, he was hilarious.  It didn’t matter how much he faded in and out through the static as I drove in and out of range of the station; I enjoyed the familiar voice.

 

 

Never underestimate the power of The Poncho.

 

Last week against the Chargers,

 

23 – 20 Broncos.

 

This week against the Texans,

 

38 – 27 Broncos.

 

Fear The Poncho!

 

 

For her birthday last year, Judy got a new granddaughter.  Hard to top that.

 

For her birthday this year she got the shingles.  An antiviral, a cream to rub, and a lot of Advil.  Really, a new grandbaby was more fun.

 

 

 

In the olden days, telephones called from one place to another, not from one person to another.  Local calls were free, but anything outside of your direct dialing area was a long-distance call and long-distance calls were not cheap; the greater the distance, the more expensive the call.

 

55 years ago today, Judy’s 16^th birthday present from her mother was a 3-minute person to person telephone call to me on Okinawa.  Corresponding only by handwritten letters, this was our first chance for a conversation in a year.  The call had to be person-to-person, because the best she could do is call the Company Commander’s phone, they in turn dispatching a runner to find me, to escort me back to the waiting telephone call.  It was an expensive call, but the 3-minute clock didn’t start until the correct person, me, was reached.  This was no small matter.  That 3-minute call cost 37 dollars, in 1964 money!

 

I picked up the phone, said hello, and listened to Judy try to talk through tears for 3 minutes, then the operator came back on the line, told us our time was up, and disconnected the call.  Happy Birthday Judy.  You can talk to me all you want today, and every other day, and rarely have to cry while doing it.