I've Discovered Victoria's Secret...

There are actually three choice secrets involved:

1. Getting bitch slapped and feeling very confused afterward, pulling your tasselled hair...or
2. Eating Chinese or Mexican food until you're just on the verge of vomiting...or
3. Watching The Exorcist a bunch of times until you know how to look, act and feel possessed.

....and then you get your picture taken!

These head shots were clipped straight from the models of Victoria's Secret. I've always found the facial expressions hilarious.

I think I'm going to try this the next time I get a professional photo taken of the family or for work. What do you think?

The Big Spill

I'll say it loud and proud. I am the biggest klutz in the Universe. And last night while attempting to walk with the dog in the dark, I took a nice, big spill.

It was the kind of event that groups of loitering kids dream of in terms of comedy. If anyone had been around to see it, I'm sure the fall would have garnered some quiet laughter from those who wondered if I was still capable of moving and some wild and roaring laughter from those who didn't care.

Resting on my left leg is a bruise the size of Alaska starting to peek through and a large cherry shaped and bloody scrape that my knee hasn't seen since the days of learning to ride a bike. I find it pretty ironic indeed that this was one of many evening walks and the first time I heeded family warnings and took a flashlight with me. (Admittedly, it wasn't on.)

But I'm sticking with the facts. Take a flashlight: fall down in a violent twist of uncoordination. Don't bring a flashlight: you make the trek with no problemos. I wouldn't dare blame this on the fact that I am incapable of walking even one step on a balance beam.

Did I miss something about the need to equip a 12 year old with a cell phone?

It's strange, I know, but I actually survived adolescence without a cellular phone.

It totally freaked me out this weekend when my son's best friend from ACROSS THE STREET used his cell phone to dial home (when he was literally 30 feet from the driveway) to ask mom if he could come on a walk with us.

Not surprisingly, the answer was no.

Cheers! ...To Your Extra 10 Pounds!

I'd like to officially nominate the Starbucks Peppermint Mocha as the Drink of the Year for the 2008 Holiday Season. Except for the fact that it costs nearly $5 and involves a little matter of 400 calories, it's right there at the top of my list. As you might imagine from it's clever name, it has the peppermint, the mocha, and of course the whipped creme. At the end of your cup, you'll most likely find a depository of very dense but heavenly syrup. It's this discovery that makes you realize just how bad you've been to drink it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a big calorie counter. But when it recently dawned on me that you also have to worry about what you drink in terms of getting fat, I wasn't pleased.

Eggnog was knocked off my list of faves this year when I read that half a cup was worth 180 calories. It will only take 3 miles of walking at a enormously fast pace to walk off that tiny sample. My walks are supposed to be taking off the devilishly delicious blocks of cheese the parents sent to us....and the Peppermint Mochas. No room for eggnog.

I'm thinking that although I have truly enjoyed my Peppermint Mocha fixes this year, I won't surprise myself if water is the Drink of the Year for 2009.

One Eyed Billy

If you're looking for something different to do outdoors, stop on by Myakka Stables just west of the Myakka State Park entrance on Clark Road. For $30, you will enjoy a relaxing horseback trek through sandy oak hammocks dappled with saw palmettos, zipping dragonflies and birdy chatter. Be sure to ask for One Eyed Billy.

Today I took the young man and my sister-in-law out for this favorite shared activity. (We left husband at home, who experienced a life-altering "almost" moment on a horse this summer in the mountains.) We feasted on the venture of our 1 hour trip all by ourselves--that's right people, there's no trail guide along for this one.

I was aboard Nugget, a no-nonsense sort of horse who had one mission in life: getting back to the stables. My sis-in-law was on a horse who often stood still and refused to move. And son D-Man was the rider of Billy, a one-eyed horse who still had quite a bit of "feisty" left in him, despite his old age. Although each of our equine carriers had very different paces and were stubborn as hell in terms of syncing with each other, we had a great trip. It's all part of the adventure.

If you can get past the sketchy appearance of the welcoming barn (with a fan that's melted downward like a dying flower and a ripped couch that looks like it's been recovered from a nuclear war), you're more than half way to a great mini-voyage into Florida nature.

Billy has probably seen a lot in his day, although he's not seeing anything out of that right socket anymore. Visit him and ask him to take you for the walk you've always dreamed of. He's waiting for you at the stables.

Here's the Story: It's a Time for Thinking

Earth looks amazingly cool from space.

On this Christmas Eve, content to have worked half the day and to be listening to the Swiffer spewing floor cleaner and the dryer squeaking as it warms the sheets, I feel good about life and am glad to be home. And oh so thankful to have what I have.

There's always been a feeling of happiness and contentment on this holiday, one of the few times of the year when I allow myself to forget about work and obligations. Usually, there's also a twinge of guilt about all of the abundance in my life when so many people around the world are lacking in basic necessities. This year that feeling is much different. These aren't just "people around the world," they're people right here.

It's a time for thinking. Re-evaluating what's important and making sure I'm contributing enough things that matter to the larger, fragile spectrum of life--life right here.

Isn't it easy to get caught up in frivolous details that mean nothing in the grand scheme of life? Makes us forget to live with the basic mission of making things better for anyone we can. Sometimes you have to step back a little and see things from a distance to realize you're off the mark and need to come back to the source.

Merry Christmas. Give yourself the gift of committing to one new thing that will make the world a little nicer. I'm going to start volunteering at the Food Bank & bringing the tween along to see how good a little service is for the soul.

The Snuggie: It Can Be Yours for Only $14.95

Since my last Gropius post, I took a short trip to Miami (with stories that could fill a thousand blogs), have been trying to get my act together for the big day on Thursday and have been racing to finish work obligations.

I've been meaning to share the story of the Mariachi singers who were relieving themselves at a common rest stop off of I-75...and a hilarious picture of a Charlie Brown poinsetta in my office that has been reduced to two leaves and three sticks due to water neglect.


But I couldn't delay in sharing the Ultimate Gift for Lazy People: The Snuggie. Ever want to curl up in front of the idiot box on a cool night but those bothersome blankets don't stay in place and prevent your arms from moving about freely? Ever want to dress up like Obi-Wan in the comfort of your own home? Be a monk-with-the-most for your immediate family?

Folks, if you answered "yes" to any of these questions, I do believe The Snuggie is for you. Don't take my word for it, check out this hysterical commercial. I'm begging husband for it and hoping the makers of The Snuggie will come up with a cool pack version to wrap myself up in on those sweltering nights that fill most of our calendar days here in sunny Florida. If there's a gift left to shop for on your list, I highly recommend a home made gift card indicating your pledge to purchase The Snuggie.

The Dream

Today while driving down Fruitville, I looked over to the sidewalk and saw a woman who appeared to be limping and then walking almost in slow motion. As I took more time to stare, I noticed that she had regained a normal pattern of movement and seemed to be walking just fine. It jolted me to thoughts of a recurring dream that I've been having for years--one which rarely surfaces in the waking hours.

I'm usually walking down the street, or find myself in some sort of situation where reaching a destination is important. I start out just fine but then become quite unable to move one or both of my legs forward without incredible effort. Even then, it's very difficult and I find myself paralyzed in place. The dream residue afterward is always that something degenerative has happened to me physically to cause this paralyzing effect--it's not some external force.

So what in the big green world is going on? Am I feeling stuck or trapped in life? Or is this foreshadowing some grave immobilizing illness? Give me your interpretations and tell me about your recurring dreams. Preferably, I'd love to hear something a heck of a lot funnier than this.

Am I the Only One Who Remembers Slim Goodbody?

It was a chain reaction. We were trying to fall asleep the other night while the dog was going crazy, galloping back and forth across the room with a plush toy. She jumped up on the bed and landed on husband, pulling his arm hair. And suddenly, it all started coming back to me. A song on my long, lost Slim Goodbody album: "...Your hair grows out of follicles, the hair grows on your head!"

Does anyone remember this white, semi-afroed guy who dressed up in a tight "we bare all" suit showing organs, bones and more? In the early '80's, Slim Goodbody taught young 'uns about the parts of the body and created an entire ensemble of songs, "The Inside Story," that became a prized possession for me.

Strangely, the only vestige of memory today is one meager line from the "hair song" I recited above. I found the album cover (which displays a picture of Slim, for those of you who pretend not to remember him) in Google images. I'm hoping it will trick my subconscious into recalling lyrics from the other songs...

So here's what I want to know. Am I the only one who remembers Slim Goodbody?

The Bradentucky Version of Cheers

Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. If you live in Bradentucky and you're over 70, that place is Bradenton Donuts.

Go there any day of the week, pull up to a swivel chair at the counter, order a coffee and any one of the multitude of donut varieties. You'll be treated like a regular at Cheers. After one trip, everyone will know your name. And your "usual" order. The nice folks who own the place and make the donuts are cheery, attentive and must have photographic memories.

I will warn you that if you're a baby boomer or younger, you'll be anything but usual in there. (It would be nice to get more younger folks coming. We stuck out like sore thumbs.)

It's also the one place I've ever seen where you can actually order a bowl of Raman noodles. (BONUS!) Next time you're in Bradentucky, check this local joint out. It's been in town forever.
Don't forget a pre-trip to the ATM; "cash only" still rules at Bradenton Donuts.

Scary Stamps for the Holidays

Maybe it's just me, but I've always found nutcrakers a little...unappealing...shall we say. We took our annual Christmas post office treck this morning to purchase stamps for holiday mass mailing. And let me tell you, this year's collection was a little frightening.

I brought the young man along to pick out his fave stamps, and we ended up bringing home the scariest nutcrackers I've ever seen. They look like Bavarian killers, bearing some serious teeth, enabled to take some names and rip off your limbs. Just look at them. Do they give you that warm, compassionate "home for the holidays" feeling? I think not.

A fair compromise was buying only one set of nutcrackers and going with the sweet Mother & Child and Celebration holiday stamps for the other sets. I saved the nutcrackers for my husband's side of the family.

Getting A Little TOO Creative

It's always extra special to receive a gift that someone put their heart, soul and sweat into. Especially if it's also very creative. Here's an idea that was floating around our office today. Let's see if you can guess what these beautiful, super crafty slippers are made from.

Anyone who guesses correctly wins a pair! You get to make them.

Celebrating the Writing Goddess

It looked like something was on fire as the sun was trying to get up this morning. Clouds were racing across the sky, wind blowing all around, signaling a change coming. Child pulled me out the door to have a look at a fleeting double rainbow making a brief appearance in the light orange north. There must be something special about this day.

I know! It's December 11, the day the Sarasota Writing Goddess was born. This local writer's byline can be seen in Style each month. She can make anyone come alive in print, touching on the most subtle and deeply interesting parts of their being in a way that makes you want to read and read and read. You'll always enjoy a thoughtful perspective, meshed with unexpected metaphors and clever comparisons, when you barge in her office for a chat. And she's a great friend. Happy Birthday, Ruth Lando.

Pungent Products 3

Here's another pungent product to look out for: Evergreen scented oil for room fragrance.

We made a choice a few years ago to stop feeding the chopping-of-innocent-Christmas-trees industry and go with a fake Frasier fir (which is probably much more environmentally destructive in retrospect...can't imagine the petroleum that went into that baby).

Anyway, we do miss the smell of a fresh piney scent in the house around the holidays. So I picked up Evergreen scented oil for the oil burner. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I spilled nearly half of the bottle it or if it's the fakeness of the smell itself. But all family members, including the dog, are about to puke.

The Bad Me

I never intended for Gropius to be a confession board, and in general, I'm a pretty nice and thoughtful person--not a whole lot to confess. But today, I was bad. Really bad. Bad in a way that makes me embarrassed, and somehow I feel that if I share it with you and you also think I'm bad, maybe I'll get what I deserve...other people thinking I'm bad. How do you like that, psychologist and coach readers? You could write me up as a case study.

So I finally finished this certification program today I've been working on for almost 2 years. Not a huge deal, but it involved a pretty decent time commitment and some driving. After being in class all day on a Saturday and driving back the long way (by mistake), I was tired but excited--sooo excited--to be done.

I pulled up in the driveway to see a big, fat home improvement husband had undertaken with the thought of pleasing me. But I hated it. It was one of those perfect communications about something that needed to be done. In the discussion stage, we each knew the other understood exactly what we meant by the word "trellis," only we didn't.

(As in I totally didn't mean that I envisioned two gigantic unpainted wooden structures drilled to the front of the house.)

So I freaked out and was really mean about it. I apologized a bunch but it still didn't take out the meanness of my initial really bad reaction. Have you ever done something like this? How did you redeem yourself?

Feel free to tell me what an ass I am in the comment section. I deserve it.

Why, yes, I do think you're a raving lunatic.

Have you ever had someone call your house after they haven't been in the picture for 2 1/2 years, demanding to speak with a certain family member?

And call back 8 times within a 30 minute period?

And leave all sorts of messages about how much they've changed and how normal they are?

Unfortunately I can answer these questions in the affirmative. My two thoughts for this person:

1. Why yes, I do think you're a raving lunatic.
2. Your behavior is certainly not doing anything to convince me otherwise.

A Solemn Occasion at Joey D's

One of the best Bradentucky places to wind down with the fam after a long day is Joey D's, a locally-owned pizza joint right on U.S. 41 just north of Cortez. Great waitstaff, veggie and carnivorous food choices and always good 'ole, regular working folks in your company.

Tonight we ordered the worst artery-clogging offenders and played a few rounds of "A Solemn Occasion." Ever play this game? It's a family heirloom, passed down through generations on my father's side. We'll just use Gropius and Eddie to explain how you do it:

Gropius stares at Eddie and says in the most serious, monotone manner possible, "It's a solemn occasion, brother Eddie. It's a solemn occasion." And Eddie--staring back with utmost solemn intensity--gravely replies, "Yes it is, brother Gropius. Yes it is."

The two players must say the words very solemnly, extremely slowly, and utterly deliberately. The losing player is the one who cannot help but crack even a slight smile. I've found that it's much easier to play the Gropius part. The Eddie player almost always loses.

So, we challenge you to a game! It's perfect for play-fighting with co-workers, the opening exchange during a performance appraisal, or procrastinating on daily mundane tasks that really count. You just need a partner willing to go there. (Good luck.) We would start to worry about you if you tried it with a mirror.

Traditions...

The holiday season officially kicked off today, as we dragged the ornaments, pre-lit artificial Christmas tree and various decorations out of the old attic. Other annual traditions didn't disappoint me today. They include various members of the family, including...

• Husband, who accuses me of intentionally maiming ugly ornaments that originated at Hallmark long ago. (Who could forget last year, when some skanky Santa ornament mistakenly fell off the table and lost an arm? That was big trouble for me. Guess my laughter didn't help.)
  
• Dog, who dances around said clutter, with plush toy in mouth, somehow loving the sound of crinkling packages, fake Fraser fur needles being arranged, and random things dropping. (I swear, it was an accident!!)
  
• Child, who walks in from outside play, claiming upset that we've started without him, and follows with a quick exit back outside to be with friends.

We did find a few surprises this year. For one, we discovered that our Christmas candles might not like it in the super hot attic. They took out their disgust by melting into favorite stockings and holiday table decor. Interesting creations...

Secondly, a delicate felt Santa suffered a gruesome accident while hanging in the attic during the year, loosing a leg. Husband, upon discovering it already hung on the tree, ripped the other leg off and replaced him on the branch. Hmmm, guess he's at least symmetrical now. Traditions...

Keanu Reeves? Are you joking?

How could I forget? A well-respected member of our family known as a most emotionally conservative "man's man" let loose at Thanksgiving dinner. His excitement over a new Keanu Reeves movie was challenged with cries of "You like that terrible actor?"

Let me tell you, his passionate reply transcended a mere defense of Keanu's tremendous acting abilities. His toe-curling response: "If Keanu Reeves walked through the door--right here, right now--and asked me to elope, I'd be like, 'Let's go.'"

It was a bit of a shocker for all of us. Well, we found a little treat for you on YouTube. This one's for you, Stevie!

Dear Sales Associate:

I am so sorry for the load of merchandise I left in a random location of Kohl's after catching a glimpse of the 60+ person line.

For some reason, I dedicated the greater part of today--the day after Thanksgiving--to shopping. Yes, I chose to join hoards of crazy people raping the racks of moderately discounted stuff for the bargains of the century.

There's a fine balance between finding something your loved ones REALLY want and just buying because they would probably like it and it's on sale. I clearly don't have enough patience for this. That's why I'm doing a little more peaceful, well considered shopping online and sparing myself the insane traffic and war-zone parking lots. ...But that's after the fact.

I also chose to finally treat my Honda to its long-awaited oil change today, which took only slightly over an hour (a vast improvement from previous two hour visits--that's with an appointment). We spent this time doing grammar lessons in the waiting room while annoyed grown-ups sighed and cast nasty glances conveying the obvious message: "I hate grammar! Shut uuuup! Spare the child!"

We're back at home, and a pizza is sounding really good right now. By the way, Alternative Gifts International is an awesome place to shop. (I know, I just mentioned it in yesterday's post, but really, you should visit it.) How did you spend your day?

Share your wealth, baby!

However cautious we may be about spending, our jobs and the possibility that the economy may go further down before a lasting upturn, our current personal situation is usually much better than it is for so many others. The truth is, many--not all--of us aren't really hurting. We're more affected by the perceptions and fears being circulated about possibilities that haven't yet touched us.

So here's a few ways to spread some of your blessings to others...and believe me, there's something to fit every wallet--even if it's only ten bucks or a few hours of your time. Some suggestions are:

• Getting your booty down to donate some time or energy to the food bank or Salvation Army. Here's a direct link to All Faith's Food Bank in Sarasota. If you contribute $1.00 to the All Faiths Food Bank, $.94 goes directly to the product and its distribution.
  
• Giving what you can to the Season of Sharing Fund, established to help families on the verge of homelessness. The money goes to agencies that disburse funds on an emergency basis. No red tape and no administrative fees. Every dollar goes directly to those in need. And you can choose whether your donation goes to Sarasota, Manatee, DeSoto or Charlotte County families.
  
• Purchasing holiday gifts from a really cool organization, Alternative Gifts International--a nonprofit group that works with organizations all over the world alleviating poverty, helping the environment, providing health care, etc. You can choose a very specific project with a very specific donation. Your gift recipient will receive a card explaining exactly what you purchased for them in their honor.

Just choose one...or do your own thing. But share the wealth, baby! The truth is, we never know when we'll find ourselves in a situation where we need a little help. If you think all people in distress are there through their own choosing or lack of responsibility, you may just have a little visit from Mr. Karma one day. Happy Thanksgiving!

Insomnia--Pour Yourself a Cup

Ideally, I would have a burning project that I just have to stay awake for. Or a great movie that is available only at this hour. But there's not much begging for a page-turning during this 1 am book of late November. I'm just up in a quiet house and even the dog has no interest in joining me.

So for now, blogging is the new reading--the new sheep counting--of a night without sleep. I probably did it to myself, hitting the sack at 8:30 pm after what seemed like an energy sucking day. Naturally, I'm annoyed, knowing that deep sleep will hit just before the alarm goes off. But instead of bitching, I thought I'd list a few things I'm really grateful for:

• Having a job. I know it sounds dumb, but really, I am so grateful. Things are pretty rough out there for a lot of people, and I'm thankful to be employed without a large, looming threat of "walking Spanish." (Read "And Then We Came to the End" by Joshua Ferris if you haven't already...it's hilarious.)
  
• Two living parents. Nerd & mom, are you reading this? Yep, I'm pretty thankful everyday that you're around and I don't take your presence and everything you do for granted. Mean it.
  
• A husband who's willing to go get new tires for me, do most of the cooking (to save himself from nasty casseroles), and be a supporting, caring partner. (Hey, I buy dinner a lot of the time, do the laundry, clean, and other stuff!)
  
• The reminder that I'll never get time back...ever. I probably think of this way too often (to the point of it being a doom and gloom type of thing), but I'm glad to live in the reality that I need to cherish each moment, even if it's the wee hours of the morning and I can't sleep.

What are you grateful for these days, and are you sleeping at night?

Ellenton: You Should Try It

Realizing the claim to fame for Ellenton is its outlet mall, many of you may have been up that way but may not have checked out the little crossroads for all it's worth. In your next scuttle up to the Columbia, Anne Taylor, Chico's and Nike outlets, may I make a few additional recommendations?

Pack yourselves a lunch, folks, and explore. Today I took my second tour in 6 months of the Gamble Plantation. It's a walk back in mid-1800's SW Florida--and well worth the trip. Our guide was a high school history teacher who drives all the way from Clearwater to volunteer there every Sunday. She's a big history geek as you might imagine, but let me tell you, her tour was the bomb. There's not much in U.S. history she doesn't know. And she was a great storyteller.

While you have your shopping shoes on, why not support some of the local stores where items aren't made by little kids in factories? When you walk in The Mermaid's Attic (right across the street from the Gamble Plantation), you'll feel like melting into sleep with the calm blue and white decour. Almost everything is either made new locally, or is vintage, adorable and in great shape. Very reasonably priced. You can find jewelry, peaceful home furnishings, beautiful ceramic bowls and a stylish and conversational store owner from North Carolina.

The Earth Box Research Center, supplying portable gardens of fresh, healthy veggies, is right in Ellenton, just 1 minute from the Plantation. It's a great place to stop and find a unique gift for your fam and friends.

Haven't been yet? Make an afternoon of it, and bring someone with you. It's a great place to share.

A Shaken Soda Can and A Karmic Mistake

I feel a bit like a soda can that's been dropped a bunch of times and is getting ready to be opened. I'm oversaturated with information from lots of clever people from all over the country and I'm eager to hatch out a plan to implement some of it in my corner of the world.

Tomorrow one of my favorite bloggers will speak. I've been wanting to meet Beth Kanter. Our brief conversation today revealed her as a genuine gal, full of informative wisdom and fresh with experiences from her work in places I'd love to visit. Have you seen her blog?

And there was good news for the cells in body--Loews did better on breakfast this morning and supplemented the regular lunch offerings with a good 'ole garden burger option. Alright! We're now at least getting to the 90's in terms of alternative food choices.

The Karmic Mistake of the Day: A large tray of cheese and fruit, a bowl of assorted nuts, and a $100 bottle of wine were mistakenly delivered to our room with a note to a gentleman I've never met. I called downstairs to inform them of the mistake, and the nice lady just told me to enjoy it. Repayment for the bowl of bare lettuce?

A Bowl of Dry, Romaine Lettuce

I guess I shouldn't complain since it was romaine, not iceberg. But really, Loews Hotel, really. This is a four star hotel on South Beach. Today during our keynote luncheon, a giant bowl of completely dry romaine lettuce (i.e. no dressing, no croutons, no shredded parm) was placed in front of me. The consolation prize for the token vegetarian was something a resort should be embarrassed about. I had no choice but to eat and laugh. And really, there are starving people in the world. I should shut up and be grateful.

Yet this evening, after walking a mile to our conference restaurant, I was getting a little on the angry side to find that none of our menu choices included anything remotely vegetarian. The substitute...a bowl of spaghetti. Hmmmm... in a place of such culture and international flavor, is this really the best you can do, Miami? One meal I can deal with. But after a few days of no sustenance but a little roughage and lots of carbs, I'm starting to feel really, really tired. Tired of crap.

The Conference Continues...

The view of Miami Beach from the balcony today was gorg. I've never seen water on the east coast so green. It almost rivaled our good 'ole Anna Maria Island (pictured right--that ain't no Miami Beach). Lots of friendly folk from around the country are here, open with sharing ideas from their corner of the world.

So what did I do today? I attended a 5 hour long session about Virtualization and understood about 4 to 6 minutes of it. I chatted with some techies who are up to some pretty neat things. And I reminded myself that I appreciate having a job and the opportunity to be here.

My co-workers and I placed the standard phone calls to husbands and kids, sending smoochy thoughts to the dogs. We had a bit of a strange dinner after a tiring day, populated by an interesting exchange of table talk.

As you've probably noted, surrounded by the same group of people for any length of time, one quickly learns that speech is bound to offend one or more in the party. After the niceties and catch-up conversation, getting-to-know you better questioning and general commentary wears off--that's when the barriers in thinking before speaking start to relax. It seems to be facilitated by the distance from home too.

There's a trite, overused saying that resurfaces from time to time. It's good advice. "Just be nice."

I Am SO Annoyed I Forgot the Camera

Today is Day 1 of a trip to Miami with four co-workers for a technology Conference. If there's one mistake I made already, it's the failure to bring my camera along. Already, we've seen some interesting things.

We all rode down together today in a white global warming bus (a large SUV belonging to one of our tribe that fit us and our motherload of crap quite comfortably). Our faithful and considerate IT man spent the 3.5 hour journey hammering away on his presentation while covering his mouth with a surgical mask. He's got a tiny sinus infection and was concerned about contaminating our car air. Aw, shucks, have you ever heard of anyone so thoughtful? I just wish I had a photo...

The hotel is beautiful, and we've got a nice ocean front room with two double beds. And we can enjoy the view of all of the freaks walking about on South Beach to our hearts' content. I'm in husband's home turf, the place where he spent hours working in the Cleveland and probably doing things I don't want to know about. I miss the bald man already...

Just found out that the two boys on the trip have a nice, comfy king sized bed to share.

And on a More Inspiring Note...

I met a super creative, innovative group of folks on Wednesday who have started a website called The Garden Now. It's a very cool place where for-profits and nonprofits can go to post their mind, body & spirit related events. And if you're an individual, you can register as a user, check the preferences for what kinds of events you're into, and get a customized glance at what's coming up for you.

At first I was thinking, these people are soooo together, but another website for events? But this one is definitely different. The intersection of design and functionality is perfecto. You feel calm just going on the site. And it's really easy to find what you want. Did I mention that groups will even have a system for ticketing and registration? It's a prayer answered for lots of small organizations with very worthwhile events that tend to get lost in the shuffle of bigger media.

The Garden Blog also shares very insightful, well-written thoughts. It's new and a little sparcely populated, but the current entries are interesting and so worth checking out. Looking forward to more...

Face-Off

This week, I've been forced to confront a number of unpleasant things.

One of them was a person who has insisted on plowing full steam ahead for months with something, despite repeated kind-hearted pleas from those affected...pleas to take stock of the fact that the effort just wasn't going anywhere.

A second was an inner-ego aspect that had to be recognized, dealt with and controlled. A third was the realization that no matter how much I want to control certain things, I just have to deal with the parts of life that can be changed...and often, those things aren't people or the economy or even transforming every person into someone who cares about what I care about. (And although I realized this third thing long before, I still find myself struggling with it.) I see a big theme here.

I guess the truth is, we all have to endure Face-Offs from time to time throughout life. The more honest we are with others and ourselves, the less frequently they occur.

I've noticed an abundance of street corner characters over the past few months, people dressed in costumes trying to wave you in to a restaurant, tire store or furniture outlet. It seems to be a symptom of the economy. The best of them are dressed in very silly--and sometimes obsurd--outfits, waving like hell to get you to notice. The worst of them have lame, unimaginative costumes with people inside of them who stand there, barely moving.

So my friend shared a little tid-bit with me yesterday as we chatted at a light: "No matter how many Face-Offs you're having, no matter how frustrating things can seem, at least you're not dressed up as a pizza standing there in 5:00 traffic."

Downtown Bradentuky is Down in the Dumps

Every now and then, I start to feel really bad about referring to my current hometown as "Bradentucky." But it certainly may be true that this name--derived from a reputation as the culture-free, hick stepchild of its posh southern cousin Sarasota--is well deserved.

Today, husband and I took a vacation day and decided to spend part of it on a walking trip through the streets of downtown Bradentucky. The most interesting things we came across were a patchouli-drenched incense store and a ginormous congregation of minnows swimming near the water's surface at the river front. While enjoying the tiny fish, we did get to witness the background conversation of three relaxed city employees spending over 30 minutes propping up a 2 foot tall, 1960's style Christmas ornament on the lawn.

Despite my (perhaps overly harsh?) assessment of downtown Bradentucky, there are a few things I'd recommend: The South Florida Museum, Art Center Manatee, and Mattison's Riverside. But if you seek people, culture, a cup of coffee in a bookstore, excitement (or basically anything a downtown might typically have), better check Sarasota or Anna Maria Island....um, or even Arcadia or Palmetto.

The Highlight of Today

I can't decide if it's...

• 2 seconds ago, when husband came in the room with a look of fear, desperately wanting me to pull off the 15 year old cowboy boots he tried on for the first time in forever and couldn't get off...OR
  
• The happy Verizon customer service rep who was thrilled to help me add more services but would not--could not--help me downgrade. (That's a separate number you have to call during the business week, thank you very much) ....OR


• The kayaking trip through Fort Hammer & the Manatee River.

I think I'll take the kayaking. The clouds were in wispy craziness across the sky, peeping migratory birds were conversing in inexplicable tongues while hidden in the tall grasses, and I got to lose myself and all worries in the entire landscape.

The lizard that hitched a ride inside the kayak from our backyard all the way to the river didn't even complain. I picture him sleeping soundly back in the overturned vessel outside the office window.

Seeking Qualified Applicants

Unmotivated individual with zero personality, lack of accountability and proficiency in making excuses sought to lead school. Prefer a male with demonstrated history of squishing creative, out of the box teaching methods. Must have proven track record of unresponsiveness to concerned parents and leading by example in the field of "do nothing, be nothing." Education: B.S. required. Piss ants are encouraged to apply. Deadline: December 1. Only applications received after this deadline will be considered.


Yes, my friends, this is the employment ad that at least two Manatee school principals answered, landing them jobs overseeing the educational institutions where our kids spend their Wonder years. I'm so over it. What's up with this?

I Had to Do It

I've debated and debated about this. But despite my best efforts to keep Gropius politics-neutral, this is after all my blog and I am afforded the opportunity to say what I want. (Just as you readers are afforded the opportunity to comment...)

So hear it is: I can't remember a time when I felt as hopeful, inspired, excited and frankly down right proud of my country as I was last night.

When I heard Barak Obama, our new leader speaking for the first time as president-elect, I could not keep a spot on my cheeks dry. The words, though reflective and carefully chosen, were secondary to the meaning behind our country's choice. And for once, I felt that the man was secondary to the message. It's the first time I can recall feeling the authenticity of a leader who is more about the voice of the people than himself.

In the eyes of the young voters, the old voters, the black voters and the white voters that the camera spanned, there wasn't a single cocky look of conquest. Instead there was a look of sincere gratitude, hope, eagerness and willingness to continue in being part of the change that needs to happen. You see, that is who Barak is for me. Not someone who will be that change, but who will help all of us be the change. From a campaign that thrived on small donations from many and from being the voice of people who have had enough of not being heard, real action rose out of what had become apathy. And it's just the beginning.

I will add that John McCain's concession speech was remarkably eloquent and beautiful. He and Obama complimented each other in presenting the need for unity bridging our differences, whether they are differences of party, color or religious beliefs.


There's hope if you're a McCain-lover...My Gropius message for you is three-fold:

1. Echoing Obama, who said in his acceptance speech that he will be your President too, I'm still your blogging friend. I hope you will still be mine.
2. A blogosphere is a terrible thing to waste: start your own and share.
3. You're always welcome to comment here.

And finally, if you're a fellow Obama fan, please be liberal in sharing your post-election thoughts on Gropius!

Local Campaign Humor

I've seen enough throw-away flyers, intersection lobbyists and yard signs to last me 10 centuries. When this flow of serious, hard core campaigning finally ends on Tuesday, it will not be too soon for me. But as with all important matters, if humor and jest don't fit in somewhere, no one is being serviced.

I'll be able to laugh at will when the Presidential candidate of my choice clearly wins on the 4th, but until then, enjoy this photo from a local contractor who kindly thinks of Gropius readers while cruising between site visits.

According to a small plot of land near the Waffle House on US 41 in Sarasota, the butler from the 80's sitcom Benson is running for a seat on the Florida House. Great stuff.

The other fave that I've come across is two warring households a couple of blocks away. One home has at least 10 McCain/Palin signs and the home beside it has just as many Obama/Biden signs. The most entertaining part is this: several signs were erected by both families directly against the property line, so that the McCain and Obama endorsements are facing each other, not the street. I'm hoping to get up enough nerve to knock on their doors and ask, "Hey, are you and your neighbor on speaking terms?"

Whatever your views, my friends, don't forget to vote.

The Funny Side of Halloween

There's been a lot of drama centered around Halloween in the past week. Allow me to share...

• This year, as in all others, Americans get the opportunity to view "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Did anyone miss something in their childhood about a great pumpkin arriving in a pumpkin patch on Halloween? My hand is raised. Anywho, Husband gets absolutely, totally and mercilessly pissed off at this show. Yet predictably, he's glued to the special in disgust year after year. It's comedy to watch him.
  
• At the office, we were exposed to the quandry of whether or not--or how--to celebrate Halloween. With several who either consider the holiday a devil celebration or who do not celebrate any holiday for religious reasons, the risk of offending was sad and certain. After a week-long hilarious debate, we ended up with a grouping of jolly folks eating eye ball-style deviled eggs and spinach dip from a bread coffin located in an isolated room.
  
• Finally, the group of teenagers who play in a garage band a few doors down have carried their instruments to the curb. Evidently, they plan to entertain trick-or-treaters with the same song they have played over and over again every Saturday for the past three months. This should be interesting--although it strikes out my plan to sit out in the cool air and greet the kids before they ring the doorbell.

The night is young. Who knows what lies ahead...

The Great Magazine Identity Theft

A few tiny red flags go up in my house when we start receiving more than 6 new magazine subscriptions within three days...none of which we have actually subscribed to.

My brother & sis-in-law kindly get us Smithsonian, National Geographic for Kids, and Shallow Water Angler every year for Christmas, and I was warned about a month ago that the company may have screwed things up.

But a month ago can be a very long time you know, and I frankly didn't remember that whole conversation. So last night, I sat down with said influx of new magazines and began calling their subscription departments.


Q: "Um, I'm now receiving your magazine and I didn't buy this. What's going on here?"
A: "Well, the magazine was purchased in September and right after, the subscription was changed to someone else's name and address."


Of course after calling magazine office after magazine office to hear the same answer to my panicked question...and being given the name of the same bogus-sounding company that was the conduit for the subscription purchases...I began to sweat, swear and wrangle husband into the entire maddening affair.

I immediately feel the flames of danger as the Identity Theft Gods sent a feverish panic to my mind. After all, I have listened to several (not one, not two, but three) separate presentations on identity theft at work lately. According to what I'd heard, a common scenario is for people to steal your card number, buy something in your name (with your billing address) and immediately transfer the goods or service to their address. Most of the time, this all goes down before the innocent victim even knows.

I was already calculating how difficult it was going to be to clear my name and the other unknown purchases that were probably made. After a brief moment of calmness, I remembered the little conversation with sis-in-law from a month ago and left a voice mail for her with an emergency message.

Turns out, she'd purchased 14 different subscriptions from a Girl Scout mom in her office, and the benevolent company decided that my household needed all of them instead of spreading the love to the intended recipients. After realizing the error, it apparently started cancelling subscriptions to us and sending them to the right people...or at least we hope.

As she listened to me trying to talk through all this, my sis-in-law was getting really quiet--an obvious precurser to some serious rage. (Don't confront someone who's getting ready to move to Texas.) I'm pretty confident she's going to rip the company a new ass. Too bad they already have her dinero.

As for me, I've got tons of reading material and will enjoy my first and only edition of Self, Outdoor World, National Wildlife Federation, Field and Stream and the myriad of other magazines I have for the month.

Drums, Girls & Dangerous Pie

Gropius normally doesn't post book reviews, much less reviews of 6th grade Scholastic Books. But I have to tell you: get your hands on Girls, Drums & Dangerous Pie and spend one weekend day reading that puppy. If you have kids in your life, have them read it or read it to them.

Every sixth grader in Sarasota County is being equipped with it, and our staff at work was strongly encouraged to read it as well (since we are providing the funds for the giveaway).

It's about an eighth grader stuck in the midst of obsession over outward appearances, girls, social order and an annoying younger brother. When his brother is diagnosed with leukemia, everything changes. But this is not a pity party story. I laughed. I cried. I felt the pangs of injustice, the irritation of an unforeseen circumstance changing the comfort of normalcy, and most of all, I felt incredible inspiration of the "everyday hero" variety. It reminded me that sometimes we do have to completely change our lives for people we care about, and the "inconvenience" of having to make those choices is far more important than the consequences of plowing ahead, unconsious.

I'm always re-surprised to realize that us adults often need the messages we give to kids with that knowing language...even more than 6th graders need them. Go get the book and read it. Tell the book store Gropius sent you.

The Halloween "Edge"

Is it just me, or are you finding it a little harder to get in the Halloween spirit this year?

Three things out of the ordinary for our fam this year:

1. I decided to forgo one of the charming (yet dwindling) local pumpkin patches and buy a stem-rotted pumpkin from Lowes. It wasn't a move I fretted about later, either. It was easy and it got the job done.

2. I struggled finding the momentum to haul down the Halloween decorations from the attic. When they came down, I didn't pull my usual stunt of going out to buy more.

3. We didn't even discuss having our regular Halloween party. And Halloween is on a Friday night this year. A little girl from down the street (who is perpetually walking around any time of year with a candy bar or chips in her mouth) has asked me repeatedly if we're having the party. For the millionth time: "NO!"

What's the deal? I can't figure it out, but we're just not into it this year. Maybe it's because the young one isn't so young anymore...and he wants to dress up as a girl. (Something I'm cool with but Husband is a little leary of.) Or it could be the fact that we're all scared enough by the economy. We're facing enough blood-sucking ghouls for real with the headlines every day.

We did send out Halloween cards to a few folks we don't get to see very often. A gesture which Husband freaked out about. "WHAT? Christmas cards once a year are one thing...now I have to sign HALLOWEEN cards?" A comment which solicited the quick command, "Yes. Sign them!"

Although the deed was done and the cards were mailed, it still didn't get us in the spooking mood. Are you?

Fall Lettuce Is Comin' Up

Should I complain that you can't grow any tomato but an anemic tomato here in Florida? Or that the brutal heat of the summer kills any vegetable that makes an attempt to push itself out of the soil? No, I shouldn't.

Husband's newly planted Fall garden is coming up. And although it took a hell of a lot of horse poop and soil, it's organic as all get out and the fruits of his labor are coming to life. Today I took my first bite of lettuce on my FBLT (fake bacon, lettuce & tomato sandwich). It was green, good and I knew there was no trace of pesticide on it.

At a time when so few folks even know where their food comes from, I'm proud of his little plot of food-producing dirt. (Although it's funny when you see a few bean plants coming up. What the hell are we going to do with 3 beans?)

Husband tells me that we could be the only people in America eating soon, because our economy is on the brink of collapse and no one knows anything about how to actually grow food anymore. If Publix ceases to exist one day, come on over to the backyard garden. Husband may fight you off with a shovel, but I'll lobby for a carrot or two for you...if they come up this year. (Sorry, photo was taken during last year's garden. And by the way, he asked me to tell you, and I quote: "Those carrots were supposed to be small.")

Pungent Products 2

Today, for the first time in a long while, I cleaned my desk at work. I went to grab the Clorox Disinfecting Wipes and accidentally dumped out what seemed like a quart of disinfecting juice from the one-wipe-left container.

It landed right in the croch and all down the left pant leg, creating a very realistic impression of a bladder control issue. After reviving from the "pee in your pants" look, I realized that I had assumed a very pungent odor.

The fact that I was wearing an ample level of disinfectant capable of killing cold & flu viruses didn't do much for me. I'm already sick.

Thanks for nothing, Clorox. Oh well, at least the pants aren't bleached. As for my desk...now I can't find anything.

Pungent Products

I love going to Bath & Body Works every couple of months to stock up on lotions, body wash, anti-bacterial stuff and other things I don't really need. (It reminds me of a very funny commentary I read in Uncommon Blonde's blog a few weeks back.)

But next time I go to B&BW, I'm going to be a little more careful about sniffing before I buy. You see, the Cucumber Melon foaming anti-bacterial waterless hand sanitizer has gone too far. For months I've been trying to stay the course and use up the small bottle I have in my car, but that time has ended. And there's still product left in the bottle.

Every time I squirt it out after touching a gas pump, change from a drive-through or a Kleenex, it nearly knocks me out. I've had multiple riders who are repelled almost to the point of nausea at its overwhelming odor. And if I use even a dime-sized amount, rest assured I will reek of it for the rest of the day, even after multiple scalding hand washings (yes, with actual soap and water).

Frankly, if someone was coming at me I wouldn't need pepper spray. One small squirt of the Cucumber Melon would render them helpless. So beware, all would-be attackers and smelly shoppers: this product needs to get pulled from the market.

Dancing in Sarasota....

So this guy named Matt has a funny dance. He was paid by Stride gum to travel to a gazillion places around the world to do "The Dance." I'm so ready to do this in Sarasota. With or without you, Matt. It would make a great and bizarre video to incorporate The Dance in front of...

• ...U.S. 41 on prostitute alley.
• ...Hollywood 20 on a Friday night.
• ...outside of the Sarasota Opera before a performance.
• ...at any and all Fall fundraising dinners.

Who's in?

The Silver Sound Effect Alert

Driving out of town for my class yesterday, I encountered several digital signs over the highway indicating that a full "Silver Alert" was in place. I nearly had a wreck trying to read the signs, which also announced an involved vehicle: a silver car of a certain make and model with a certain license plate number, etc. That's a lot of information to read as you're going 75 mph.

Where the hell have I been? I had to phone husband to decode. A Silver Alert is evidently issued when a senior is missing.

No problem. In this part of Florida, it's like asking you to sift through 89% of the population. And the added irony of the silver car elicited a smirk.

After reaching my class, a different type of Silver Alert was enacted. An older gentlemen who is a vocal player in the class discussions showed up in full form, on cue without disappointment. Just as he's done in the past classes, he felt compelled to interrupt the presentation frequently to ask the instructor irrelevant questions about her personal career and to share 100% irrelevant stories. Now I don't mean to be harsh, but please man, spare us. A knowing glance exchanged with the gal beside me indicated that she, too, was on full Silver Alert.

Just to make the mix even more interesting, another overzealous participant provided some great sound effects. Let's just call her Sound Effect Sally. Sally literally cannot contain herself. It was as if she is having a personal conversation with the instructor.

During the three hours of our time together, she verbally called out things like: "Mmmm hmmm." "Oh, okay." "Cool!" "Oh I get it." "WOW!" "Woooaaaah!" "NO!" And when a heavy handout was passed out on two occasions, Sound Effect Sally responded with noises like: "Shhhhhkkkkkkrrrrr!" and "Mmmm. Mmmm. Mmmm." Although entertaining in ways, it was more bizarre than anything. Is there a new alert system the state of Florida can create for this type of eccentric behavior?

Really, Facebook? REALLY?

Since I've been on Facebook, I've used it a bit to put the word out when there's a new posting on Gropius. This evening, after I posted the last post (completely harmless, I might add), it flagged this innocent little blog as "malicious." I'm guessing because it had the word "gay."

I will repeat the SNL skit by saying, "Really, Facebook? REALLY?"

If you read the blog (or if you know me), you know that I really have ZERO bias for or against anyone and ZERO tolerance for those who discriminate. The post was a musing on someone's silly quirk...having no real connection to anything objectionable about "gay."

Facebook, let's get serious here. Are you a tool to promote social networking, or are you a social networking Nazi? I think I know the answer...and Gropius may be banned from Facebook forever with that last dig. But it's worth it.

Just Because You're a Single 50 Year Old Man, Doesn't Mean You're Gay

...And so what if you are gay? We still love you just the same.

This is the message we need one of our neighbors to get. He's a single man who lives alone and also happens to have a career that's usually gender-specific, leaning toward the women's side of things. And he keeps getting in our face about the fact that he's not gay. Ummm...no one ever said you were gay. And if you are, we don't care. But we are getting a little curious at this point. Just from the sheer number of times you bring it up--unsolicited.

Kind of makes me think of this scene from Lars & The Real Girl. (A highly recommended movie, by the way, about a guy who has girl issues. Very cute, clean and funny.) Do most middle aged single men feel this way? I am uncertain but would love your thoughts.

Your Dead Plants Are Just Charming, Lowes

So we did a little landscaping this weekend. Several stubborn bushes on the side of our house have been living and growing there for years, despite a disgusting black funk on their leaves. I'm sure they were just the wrong plants in the wrong place. Husband dug them out and we needed some replacements.

Now Lowes, don't get me wrong, I know the market for landscaping and home improvement isn't huge with the economy the way it is. But I was just a tad annoyed that most of your plants were non-natives, requiring huge amounts of water or fertilizer, and half of your plants were dead. The rose aisle was a trip. Most of the rose plants featured stems with no leaves and perhaps a stray browning flower. My personal favorite (which I sincerely regret not having a camera to document) was the sale rack, displaying plastic containers of 100% dead plants. The crunching sound I heard when I touched them may be the closest I get to experiencing the Fall here. But I didn't want to pay for the experience.

...And I'll add that when I picked up a pumpkin, the stem literally broke off in my hand. Rotten?

If you want to survive the slump, dear Lowes, please start stocking some living items and perhaps you could even consider a few Florida natives.

I'm the Queen of Red Lights

I feel in my deepest soul that no one on the face of the planet encounters more red lights than I do in my weekly travels. This includes my daily commute from Bradenton to Sarasota, to lunch dates during the work week, and anywhere when I am running a little late.

It’s true. The traffic engineers in Sarasota have plotted against me. If I hit one red light, I hit them all. And I always, always hit one red light, thus triggering a chain reaction of additional red lights that will add on 15 minutes (at least) to a trip that should take only 5 minutes. (Sarasota is notorious for producing traffic patterns that make short distances seem like out of town.)

I’m finding a way to trick the system though. When I leave for work each day, I’m armed with a to-do list, an editing job, or a couple of spare magazine articles I've been trying to read. When I come prepared, the little man up there in the traffic lights spares me the drama of red. You should try it.

But don’t forget to put down the reading materials when the light turns green. One Gropius reader may recall her game of roadside bumper boats caused by her attempt to complete a crossword puzzle while driving. Was it the seafoam green car or the pukey muave sedan that was wrecked? I can't recall, but it was tragic. Almost as tragic as the time her car caught on fire on the way back to college. As she called me from I-4 beside the burning wreckage, she said "This is the most beautiful fire I have ever seen."

In summary, bringing reading materials can trick the Sarasota Red Light Demons. Keeping things in perspective, a long light is always better than a burning car. And finally, friends who find their own car fires beautiful are priceless.

Three Ridiculous Things About Today

• I'll start out the list with the fact that today is Thursday, not Friday. It not only seems like today should be Friday, but I've earned it, man. Two 9 hour days, one 11 hour day, one 14 hour day, one parent teacher conference, one presentation, a drive to Tampa, a board meeting and a million meetings after Monday morning started, I'm ready for a break.


• I actually had to tell someone "no" about the same thing for the fifth time today. This person introduced himself in my office early in the week--while crossing the personal space boundary of kissing my hand without invitation and calling me "princess," I might add. After making an unreasonable request once over the phone, twice in person and once with a written note, I had to explain to him AGAIN that the answer to the same question is (and will always be) "NO." I would truly hate to be a woman on a date with this guy.
  
• There is no debate tonight. In a sick and twisted way, I've gotten quite addicted to watching two people twist words and history around (in various degrees, depending on the candidate) as they try to produce clever and "top that" oriented sound bites. For some reason, it produces a wild fighting urge in me. At once, it's maddening and exciting...and, er, a little depressing.

On the bright side, there is hope. Tomorrow is actually Friday, the probability of the no-man calling again has significantly diminished, and The Office is on tonight.

How has your week been?

I'm Getting a Little Creeped Out

If you know me, there's no doubt in your mind that I'm a big lover of reptiles (the real kind, not politicians). But when our news is filled with stories about escaped and thriving pythons, iguanas, tegus (look it up) and other scaled creatures from faraway lands...right here in Sarasota/ Bradenton...I get a little creeped out.

Of course the takeover first came to light for most of us when that debatable photo of an exploded python with alligator was released. We all learned that python pets-no-more are filling the glades, reproducing and taking names. It's pretty serious when you think about all of the native species that are being taken out. And personally, I really don't want to come across a python big enough to take a gator when I'm out trail blazing.

Now we know there are iguana invaders all over our islands and keys, gobbling up native birds, native herps and basically anything the right size. And they're really hard to catch (I mean the lizards).

According to this recent article in the Bradenton-Herald, a 10 foot python and tegu were recently captured (escaped pets) and provided to a local wildlife rescue organization for educational purposes. A quote from the article about the rescue org. representative: "Not only has he provided a home for both of them, but the snake now has a name too. We think Crosby the snake will be very happy in his new environment. "

Point #1: Yes, I'm happy Crosby is in a new environment too. Reptile owners, can you please be more responsible? With the number of iguanas running around on our islands and pythons taking over, there's a serious limit to orphanages for them, once captured--if captured.

Point #2: I'm intrigued by what this snake's name was before it was captured. I'm guessing it wasn't something like GW the snake, Fuzzy, or Henry. It must have been something really baaaad. Bradenton-Herald, please do a better job of answering the questions we want to know. Do I hear follow-up?

The Week in Review

I'm having a slight case of blogger's block but have missed out on the therapeutic benefits of near-daily interaction with the screen, getting things off my chest. Here are my observations from this week in review:

• Telling the truth is so much easier than not telling the truth. Except for a few tiny white lies that slip out every now and then to protect the innocent from unnecessary insult, I avoid lying at all costs. I can't say the same for some kids, who insist on thinking they won't get busted while looking you right in the face, popping out a ginormous bald-faced lie. The same is true of politicians. They stare right into the camera and puke out a big one. Both kids and politicians know they're going to get busted in the inevitable fact-checking stage, but somehow keep the up the game. It's a mystery. And it's a mystery that greatly complicates the world, quite unnecessarily.
  
• People who repeatedly leave voice mail messages about non-urgent matters, on work voice mail and on cell phone voice mail, over 4 times in the same day, do not increase chances of getting called back. In fact, they actually trigger the opposite response. If you're not getting a call back, it either means I am very, very busy or that you have called me 47 times already about the same thing and we're not getting anywhere.
  
• I'd rather be in Gainesville this weekend. Hearing about a friend's trip to G'ville for a wedding reminded me that it's been too long since I've seen Payne's Prairie, Devil's Millhopper, El Indio and the Florida Museum of Natural History. I'm ready for a road trip.

Adventures with the Manatee County School System

Oh, how I love our local school system. Actually, the little guy--who's not so little anymore--has some pretty strong teachers this year. (Except for one of them. Indication #1 was the back to school night when she spent her precious 4 minutes with the parents talking about the mystery of disappearing pencils and paper in last year's class and how annoying that was.)

So here's someone I don't like. She's supposed to be in charge of the "extra" support we need. But what she's really in charge of is excuses. And lame excuses at that. She's like the operator of a wet mop that has collected tons of crap, and instead of cleaning it with fresh hot water, she just continues to smudge the crap around on the floor making no real progress.

I called her today to set up a parent teacher conference.

Line 1 of her response:

"You know, I can't set that meeting up. You need to talk to the office manager, and you'll have to call back in the morning." Not I'll make this happen. Not thank you for being a concerned parent.

Time consumed: 1/4 of our conversation

Translation: "You are a turd for giving me more work to do."

Line 2 of her response:

"You know, ALL of the teachers will have to be at this meeting. You can't just meet with one of them. It will be everyone, all 7 teachers, aaaaall together."

Time consumed: 1/2 of our conversation

Translation: Now this line was clearly aimed at intimidation. She's thinking, "Maybe if I make this pest feel outnumbered, I won't have to be at this meeting and I'll have less work." Wrong, lady. So wrong.

Line 3 of her response, which is really starting to piss me off:

Something along the lines of "You know every teacher has 139 students. There's just no way that teachers can take care of every little detail with 139 students. 139 students is a whole lot of students."

Time consumed: The last 1/4 of this lousy conversation

Translation: This means, "In the grand scheme of things, we couldn't give one little starburst about your student. And don't you even think for one second that he matters...or that I care about the conference that you are evidently going to move forward with despite my best efforts to derail it."

Thanks for the clarity! I'm soooo glad I called. It at least confirms where I stand before the big event. I know you'll look forward to the blog about the parent teacher conference. It's all up to the office manager now.

Is it true?

Is it true that today is only Tuesday? Yesterday felt like an entire week.

I should be grateful that entire weeks are fitting into days, and thus available weeks in my life are multiplying by 5 (since this formula doesn't hold true for weekend days).

I'm working myself up into the mentality of waiting for each weekend to come, hoping the weekdays will run by with lightening speed. I need to cheer up. Here are three small things that would tide me over for now, Powers of the Universe:

• Equip everyone with a WalMart Buddha, as I received yesterday from a local coaching goddess after admiring hers. The paradox of a Buddha from WalMart is a story in itself--a strangely comforting but confounding story. I'll keep it on my desk to signify hope.
  
• A catalogue of all peeing statues in Sarasota. The one pictured here (courtesy of Skunk Ape Photography) is across the street from Zoria's on Main. To the simple passerby, this location is a typical downtown Sarasota scene. To those who take a more careful, studious approach, the location is the site of many an impropriety. One day last year, a bunch of kids had poured detergent in the "toilet" here and suds the height of a 10 story building were emerging. Little did they know that they could just approach this work of art from behind and get a giggle without causing a Level 17 clean up effort.
  
• A new David Grimes Sarasota Curmudgeon blog posting every day. I hate it that you're not writing for the Herald any longer, but David, you're cracking me up on Sarasota Magazine's website.
  

I'm not asking for much. But I need to laugh frequently...and not always at myself.

Myths About Laundry

Husband is pretty darn good about splitting dreaded domestic chores, and in fact, totally indulged me today in my transformation to Bob Vila. (It was time to paint the house trim and shutters...not tomorrow, not next week, but TODAY, and I MEAN NOW!)

Despite all this touchy feely-ness, there are some urban legends to dispel about laundry in our household. Doing laundry is one of the chores that falls under my responsibilities 98% of the time, but on the occasion that I can't get to part of it/ all of it, or am banning it from my weekend altogether, here are the myths I am facing:

• If the laundry just stays there long enough, it will automatically wash itself.
• Pressing "start" on the washing machine = doing the laundry for wife.
• If you remove clothes from the dryer and just mound them on the chair, they will especially not require ironing. And if they do need ironing, they will magically iron themselves and crawl into drawers or onto hangers.
• Wife will not get cross or angry when she wakes up from nap and sees that you have "helped" by piling sad, twisted and monstrous heaps of clean clothes onto the above mentioned chair.

I'm not sure if this is uniquely Sarasota/ Bradenton, but I'm willing to bet it's just "uniquely husband." Thoughts?

Okay, Okay, Hob Nob Was An Oversight

My GOSH. Evidently, a few people were quite perturbed that the recent list of The Most Inspiring did not include Sarasota's landmark drive-in restaurant, the Hob Nob. Although we're still training people to actually post their comments ON Gropius, I've received a phone call and an e-mail or two about the offensive Hob Nob omission, in addition to one comment on the blog itself.

Just to show how remorseful I am, here's a tribute to the much-loved, historic, eat-outside grease joint. I did dine there for lunch today with a group of co-workers. We all agreed how fabulous it was to see so many different types of people there--all sitting on benches, all eating fries and onion rings out of oily paper wrappers.

I freely admit that the Hob Nob grilled cheese with tomatoes rivals any grilled cheese with tomatoes I've ever had. And when our IT guy ordered a chocolate milkshake, he swore we would all be jealous and wish we had made the extra 2 pound commitment as soon as it was delivered; he couldn't have been more right.

And after watching the season premiere of The Office last night, when everyone went on a weight loss rampage (including Kelli, who swallowed a tape worm purchased from Creed), I felt like I was due for some extra calories.

The Hob Nob gave me a chance to soak up the delicious taste of Fall in today's air, while I watched construction workers, Chanel-look alikes with dark glasses and red lipstick, and regular 9 to 5 ers enjoy laughs, catching up and good conversation. It's funny--the food is classic American, but people return for the experience and for the fun of being part of something commonplace yet inclusive.

Have you been to the HN recently? Put it on your list.