One of my carpoolers has a Bucky or should I say, had a Bucky. For those of you who do not know what a Bucky is, it is a horseshoe shaped device that you wear around your neck. It provides support for your head so that you can sleep.

Since my carpooler is always sleeping in the car, he keeps his Bucky with him at all times. But, from time to time, he forgets to take it with him when he gets out of the car at the end of the day. When this happens, he frantically looks for his Bucky in the morning.

Well, the other night, when he got out of the car, he sat his Bucky on the trunk of his car while he put his stuff in the back seat. Then, he forgot that Bucky was on the trunk and drove off. We saw him drive off down the road with Bucky still on his trunk, but there was nothing that we could do about it.

I knew that Bucky would not survive the drive home. With the force of the winds at highway speeds, it would only be a matter of time before he slid off the back and onto the road.

Sure enough, when I arrived at the carpool lot this morning, my carpooler jumped out of his car and asked me if Bucky was in my car. That is when I had to break the bad news to him that Bucky was gone.

“Bucky’s gone?” he said. “How?” I explained to him how he had put Bucky on the trunk of the car and driven off.

He seemed to be in a state of shock and asked me to explain it to him again. When I told him again, he said that it was hard to believe. He then went on to talk about all of the places they had been to together and all of the things that they had done.

I tried to comfort him at his loss. I told him that he could always get another Bucky. I even offered to buy him a new one but he told me that it just wouldn’t be the same.

He then told me that when we get back to the carpool lot, he plans to cruise the roads looking for Bucky. I told him that Bucky could have been run over by hundreds of cars and truck, and that he might not even recognize Bucky. But he said that he would scrap up his remains and take him back home. He felt that Bucky deserved better than to be left for scrap on some cold and wet road.

For those of us who knew Bucky, we will always remember him. My carpooler plans to put a cross on the side of the road.  RIP Bucky.

While visiting Las Vegas a while back, we went to a restaurant that advertised authentic Mexican food. The waiters barely spoke English and the cook spoke only Spanish so I guess that makes it authentic.

While we were there eating, I noticed that there was a middle aged man in a suit and tie standing out side. Besides being over dressed for a place like this, he seemed not to be interested in dining. In stead, it seemed like he was waiting for someone.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, another middle aged man in a suit showed up. They chatted for a few minutes and made a few phone calls but did not enter the restaurant. They stood around like they were waiting for someone else to show up.

Finally, a police car arrived and the men came into the restaurant. They identified themselves as INS agents and entered the kitchen. A few minutes later, they came back out by themselves.

I surmised that they were looking for illegal immigrants. If so, they didn’t find any. Of course, they stood around outside for almost 20 minutes so they would easily have been spotted by any illegals working there. I suspect that all the illegals went out the back door as soon as the INS pulled into the parking lot.

Talk about authentic Mexican food.

I got a letter the other day from West Michigan Heart. They told me that my cardiologist, Dr. Maharishi Shandra is leave the practice and moving to Washington DC.

I am a little surprised at the sudden change and can’t imagine what there is for him in Washington DC. Maybe he doesn’t like the weather here in Michigan.

I have mixed feelings about this move. He seemed OK as a doctor though I had a hard time understanding him since his English was so poor. So, maybe someone who speaks better English would be a step forward. But, he has been my cardiologist for almost 4 years.

I also have mixed feelings about the new cardiologist that has been assigned to me. The first thing that bothers me is that his first name happens to be Jihad.

Now, I realize that he did not choose that name. The name was given to him by his parents. But, I still wonder what kind of people name there child Jihad? And with a name like that, you have to wonder what kind of an environment he grew up in.

He got a BS from Wayne State which in its self is good. But it also means that he probably grew up in the Muslim district of Detroit which might not be so good.

Next, he went to medical school at St. George University in Granada. Hum. This might not be good. St. George University isn’t really a high ranking medical school.

I would have felt better if he had gone to Johns Hopkins. But, unless the man wanted to go to school at some place warm, it would appear that the medial schools here in the states rejected him for some reason.

Finally, he studied cardiology at Louisiana State University in New Orleans. Again, I would have felt better if he had studied a some place like the Cleveland Institute.

Well, fortunately, my heart condition is not that serious and the man is board certified.

I went past the ?? store last Sunday. They had their “open” sign displayed but they were closed.

They do not have a sign saying what they sell and they are at an end of town which does not have much activity. So it is not like they are going to get a lot of people walking by and stopping in. I suspect that they won’t last very long in their present location , but time will tell.

I wonder if they are owned by the same people who own the ? store? If not, they must be using the same business plan.

Since I had reached that age in life and at my wifes urging, we decided that we needed a different and more permanent method of birth control. So, we elected for a vasectomy. Our doctor gave us a referral to a urologist , and we headed in for our initial consultation.

The initial consultation went well. The doctor explained the procedure and asked if we had any questions. When we were finished with our questions, the receptionist set us up with an appointment.

I say ‘us’ because Kathy needed to come along as my designated driver. This made me uncomfortable. While I understood why I needed a driver, it still bothered me that this simple and harmless procedure might leave me temporarily incapable of operating an automobile.

When the appointed day arrived, I was driven by my wife to the office building. My wife then led me down the hall and into the office. I felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter. Once in the office, the doctor led me to the examination room.

I had expected doctor to give me one of those backless gowns and to leave the room while I got undressed. But instead, helped me get undressed.

Having the doctor undress me seemed a little strange. But things got even stranger when he started shaving me.

Looking down, I could see that special gleam in his eyes and I was reasonable sure that he wasn’t thinking about a boat payment. Reviewing his general mannerism, his glee at undressing me and the way he was caressing me, the man was gay. In fact, the only thing that the man didn’t do was kiss it and make it all better.

When he was finished, he told me to get dressed and then left the room. I figured that he would want to help me get dress too but he didn’t. I guess the thrill was gone and I was being left like a cheap date in a sleazy motel. At least he didn’t slap me on the butt and tell me I was great.

We live across the street from a cemetery. We have strange occurrences from time to time. The most recent happened to me just this morning.

It is not unusual to be alone in the house and to hear strange sounds like someone walking across the floor or going up the stairs. And when it does happen, a quick check of the house confirms the fact that you are indeed alone. Or should I say, you are the only living being in the house.

I was down in the basement checking my email when I heard a clattery bang. I assumed that one of the cats had knocked something off of the table and on to the floor. They are notorious for such antics. And since it wasn’t a real loud noise, I didn’t bother to investigate it at the time.

However, after I got through with my emails, I came up stairs to find a muppet like string puppet laying at the bottom of the stairs to the next landing. It wasn’t there when I went down to check my email as I would had to have stepped over it in order to go down the stairs. So, I could only conclude that it was the source of the noise that I heard.

Now, this puppet is no small thing. It stands about 3 feet high and weighs several pounds. It is clearly too big and bulky for the cats to bat around on the floor. And, we have had other experiences with this puppet in the past. In fact, it once stood up by itself which absolutely terrified my youngest daughter several years ago.

But, regardless of its past history, I am hard pressed to explain just how the puppet got to its present location at the bottom of the stairs. I didn’t put it there and I seriously doubt that the cats could have moved it.

Whats more, I don’t even know where it was prior to its present location. For that answer, I will have to wait until Kathy comes home from work. So for now, it is just another chapter in the X Files.

I couldn’t believe what I was reading. The ad in the magazine was offering a coupon for $40 off on your next set of lavender scented tires. Apparently some tire manufacturer has developed tires that smell like lavender.

Lavender scented tires? What is the world coming to?

I guess it must be aroma therapy for drivers. Instead of having to hang one of those little pine trees from your review mirror, you just have to put on your brakes.

But why stop with lavender? Why not other scents such as carnations or roses or lilies? And if each tire had a different scent, you could have a bouquet sitting in your garage just waiting to hit the road. And even though you are polluting the atmosphere, at least you would be doing so in a pleasant manner.

As Marcus Aurelius once said “the goal of life is not to be in the majority, but to flee the ranks of the insane.”

The government of China has just passed a law which requires you to get government permission before you reincarnate. Nice!

I guess they are concerned that the next Dali Lama will be hostile to the Chinese government. I can’t imagine why they would think that the next Dali Lama would be hostile to the government. Could it be because the government passes stupid laws which restrict Tibetan monks from reincarnating?

I think that the Chinese government went at it all wrong. Instead of restricting the monks from reincarnating, they should have restricted them from dying. After all, if you can’t die, you can’t reincarnate.

China needs to work on cleaning up their air.  Their officials have been breathing too much pollution.

Occasionally, I eat breakfast here at work. Usually, I order scrambled eggs with veggies and cheese. And, usually, it only takes the cook 30 seconds to grill my order.

When the cook sees me coming, she cracks two eggs into a stainless steel bowl, adds some milk and then takes a whisk to the contents. Once they are whipped up, she dumps them onto the griddle, throws in some veggies and cheese and then cooks them for 30 seconds.

Well, the other morning, she followed her usual routine but when she dumped the milk and egg mixture on to the grill, she noticed a whole egg yolk staring back at her.

Not to be deterred from her 30 second cook time, she picked up the spatula and whacked the yolk with the edge of the spatula. Then she hit it two more times. And finally, after she stared at it for a  few seconds, she gave it one last death blow.

With a big smile on her face, she then proceeded to add the veggies and cheese to the mixture.

Lizzie Borden would have been proud.

On the wall, next to our refrigerator, hangs a small white board. The white board mainly serves as a grocery list reminder. If we run out of something or notice that something is getting low, we write it on the white board. Then, on Saturday, I transfer the items from the white board to a grocery list and then head to the store to purchase the items.

Last Saturday, Kathy had “four turkey giblet gravy” written down. I assumed that this was dry turkey giblet gravy mix. Since I had grilled a turkey breast recently, I figured the gravy was to be used for the turkey.

When I got to the instant gravy section, I discovered that there was no turkey giblet gravy. They only had plain turkey gravy.

Now, I am notorious for grabbing the wrong items off of the shelf. So, I scanned the shelves throughly. When I confirmed that they only had plain gravy, I picked up the requested four packages and put them in the cart.  Either they were out of turkey giblet gravy or it doesn’t exist.

Kathy does get upset with me when I make substitutes. So, when I got home, I made a point in telling Kathy that they did not have turkey giblet gravy mix so I got just plain turkey gravy. After all, it was better to tell her upfront than to have her discover it later on.

When I told her about the gravy, she didn’t seem concerned. In fact, she seemed totally uninterested. Odd.

Later during the day, she asked me if I had purchased the cat food that she had requested. Cat food? What cat food? Why the turkey giblet gravy cat food that she had written down on the white board.

The white board is good but it lacks in a few areas.