The Villa on the Hill-a

Can You Be a Foodie and Eat Healthy, Too?

2011-09-05T09:23:00.000-07:00

When you hit middle age, you finally realize that you can't eat anything and everything and expect to get away with it. Love pasta? One small serving, please, no seconds - and God forbid if you want cheese on it. Enjoy a huge steak with all the trimmings? Sure, go ahead, indulge in that heart-attack-on-a-plate. Can't live without potatoes, white rice, bread and the like? Carbs are the Devil in tasty regalia - fuggedaboutit!

So what's a foodie to do? I spent my entire life eating the tastiest, richest foods I could get my hands on, thanks to a family of outstanding cooks and my own need to continue the tradition. Sure, when I was a kid, I could eat anything - I mean ANYTHING - and not gain a pound, in fact losing weight if I was particularly active. "Active" is the key word here ... when you're young, you're running around all the time, riding bikes, climbing trees, playing sports, etc. for hours in a day. Summertime comes and you have to eat three dishes of your mama's manicotti just to stay even. *sigh*

This all leads to the inevitable change when one's metabolism slows down, between the adult sedentary diet and the natural aging process (not to mention my favorite, BEER). Throw in the routinely consumed fast food and what do you get? An overweight (or dare I say, "obese") middle-aged man (or woman). Even regular trips to the gym doesn't drop the weight like you think it should, especially if MacDonald's is your first stop on the way home after working out. Losing weight - and staying fit - requires a major lifestyle change. In fact, it requires a brand new relationship with food and all its yummy, creamy goodness. If you don't do this, you'll go to the doctor one day - and you should do that sometimes, guys - and he'll be prescribing medication for reducing your blood pressure and cholesterol or if you're REALLY unlucky, Type II diabetes. And, of course, with all that come the lectures about losing weight or dying too young. Who needs it?

One thing we humans - in particular, we men, I think - hate is being told what to do like we're children. We all know what we have to do, we just don't want another adult telling us what's good for us. What's the answer then?

Here are a few simple tips on reducing weight and getting healthy, all with the following caveats: your mileage can and will vary, you must be patient and that with any diet / exercise program you absolutely should consult with a physician before beginning. The last disclaimer: I'm not a doctor (nor do I play one on TV), but these suggestions have helped me and may help you, too.

Start slow - Every one of these tips are prefaced with this same premise. Without listing all the clichés you've heard over and over again ("Rome wasn't built in a day," etc.), just remember you're rebuilding your relationship with food for a lifetime of good health. Diets are short-term wins; reprogramming requires a long, slow process to burn in. Trust me, it's totally worth it!
Quality, not quantity - As they say, everything in moderation. If you drink three low-cost beers a day, cut back to two better quality ones. If you eat two Burger King hamburgers at lunch, cut back to one at a local diner. Try this trick: once a week, take half the fries off your plate and place them in a doggie bag before you start eating. Over time, you'll get fuller faster and won't even need to do that, especially if you ...
Eat slower - Face it, folks, our moms were right. Chew your food, don't wolf it down. Give your brain a chance to register there's food in your stomach. Listen to your natural signals to stop when it's time to do so. No, don't chew your food 26 times (or whatever the prescribed number is these days), but do CHEW, not inhale.
Get moving - Okay, here it comes, the exercise talk. Again, start slowly, like taking a short walk after dinner tonight. Try it again after lunch tomorrow. Get ten minutes a day of light exercise just to begin with. Do that until you're putting in ten minutes seven days a week. Then, increase it to fifteen minutes one of those days, then two, and on and on. Move to twenty minutes a day, seven days a week and by then, your brain has become rewired to the thought of regular exercise. Now it's just a matter of increasing the amount of effort in those twenty minutes - walk faster or do a few jumping jacks before you start to warm up - anything to make the hear beat just a little faster. Break a sweat, you'll like it!
Avoid the evil carb monster - Face it, carbs taste good and no matter how hard you try to avoid them, they're are contained in even healthy foods. The problem with carbs is we overeat them (along with fats) the most and we get them from the worst possible foods. Pretzels, potato chips, crackers and the like are pretty much empty calories and carb overload at the same time. The idea here is to get your carbs the healthy way and avoid all the preprocessed, "enriched flour" and corn sugar-laden products we just have come to accept as a normal (and even necessary) part of our diets. Cutting out carbs will go a long way toward losing that unsightly stomach fat you're carrying around.
Make it healthy, make it tasty - If you don't like vegetables to begin with, you may hate this part. Suck it up, boys/girls, these are simple facts. Vegetables (and fruits) are healthy and necessary dietary components. Just because you have to eat them, doesn't mean that have to taste like hay. There are plenty of herbs & spices - not just salt and pepper, the former of which you should use sparingly - that will make vegetables palatable, if not downright delicious. Start out with the dry ones from the seasonings aisle in your grocery store - things like onion powder, garlic powder, oregano, parsley, thyme, rosemary and the like. Or if you're bold, get them fresh from the produce department and learn how to chop and add them to your vegetable dishes to suit your tastes. That means you will need to ...
Learn to cook - This is especially important if you want to save money, too. It really doesn't take much money or time to learn how to prepare simple, healthy meals to eat now or during the work week. Besides the vegetables, look at the proteins - skinless chicken, turkey, fish and lean beef all work and should be eaten in moderate quantities along with the veggies. When you need fats, try PAM or olive oil, both health alternatives when you need fats. Experiment if you want, or if you're not the adventurous type, go to the internet and look up simple recipes there. Remember, your microwave may be your best friend, both in the preparation and reheating of the meals you make yourself.
Eating out - If you're like me, you LOVE going to restaurants and if so, you can survive that fairly unscathed, too. Many restaurants have lite menus which you've probably never seen as your eyes have been programmed to skip them for all these years. These sections of the menu will now be your saving grace - or, if there isn't such guidance, ask your server. It may require a few extra instructions, like "hold the potatoes" or "no sauce" or "grill it, don't fry it," but most restaurants are happy to accommodate you. Try it sometime.

There are no miracle foods or tricks out there, but here are some more ideas to consider:

Drink green tea, one cup with every meal. Besides being an antioxidant, some swear by its ability to help one lose weight.
Lemon tree, very pretty. Make the first thing you consume in the morning a glass of hot lemon water. It will soup up your digestive system before you eat a bite.
Water, water, everywhere. Drinking eight glasses a water a day has recently been largely debunked as valid science, but three things that are definitely true about water: you need some quantity of it to survive; dehydration will trigger the hunger response; water has zero calories and fills you up.
Coffee or tea, it doesn't matter to me. Unless your doctor tells you otherwise, caffeine in moderate quantities can boost your metabolism and help burn calories, in conjunction with all your other efforts.

If you find these tips helpful and you're able to lose weight as a result, don't hesitate to add a comment to this post and brag about it.

From our hill to yours,

Michael

To Maintain a Healthy Level of Insanity ...

2011-06-20T11:44:00.000-07:00

To Maintain A Healthy Level Of Insanity

1. In the memo field of all your checks, write "For marijuana."

2. Order a diet water whenever you go out to eat, with a serious face.

3. Specify that your drive-thru order is "to go."

4. Sing along at the opera.

5. Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend their party because you have a headache.

6. When leaving the zoo, start running towards the parking lot, yelling "Run for your lives! They're loose!"

7. Tell your children over dinner, "Due to the economy, we are going to have to let one of you go."

And the final way to keep a healthy level of insanity:

8. PICK UP A BOX OF CONDOMS AT THE PHARMACY, GO TO THE COUNTER AND ASK WHERE THE FITTING ROOM IS.

Legend of Black Lotus by Angelo — Kickstarter

2010-08-28T10:19:00.001-07:00

About this project
THE LEGEND.
Legend says, during a magical time in Ancient China an honorable emperor had a vision of his kingdom in ruins and his people suffering. The emperor prayed to the Spirit of the Black Forest for help. The Spirit promised the emperor that she would send a warrior to restore the kingdom to its former glory. Years, then decades passed. Legend became myth, and soon only a few still believed in the Promise. When the kingdom was at its most corrupt, the Spirit spoke to the new empress, calling upon her to deliver the warrior who would bring honor back to the land.

THEMES: LEGEND OF BLACK LOTUS explores themes of faith, honor, prejudice, unconditional love, and sacrifice. It puts the fate of an empire into the hands of an emperor governed by fear, an empress led by faith, and an ostracized child who's led by love.

THE LOCATION: The film will be shot in good ole Los Angeles County. All interior locations will be shot on a soundstage, which I'm excited about because I've never shot on a soundstage before. The exterior locations are the L.A. Arboretum and a dry lake bed in the California desert.

THE CREW
The cast is hired! We have the award-winning leading actress, Emayatzy Corinealdi playing the lead role (Daiyu) with Julia Kubo playing the younger version of the lead. Additionally there's Steffinnie Phrommany (empress), Clint Jung (Emperor), Irene Park and Jade Doheny (older and younger princess), Victor Chi (captain), Kerry Liu (nurse), Anne Lee Mako (wife).

DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY
PRODUCTION DESIGNER
ART DIRECTOR
KEY MAKE-UP
KEY HAIRDRESSER
COSTUMER
COMPOSER

These folks are already hired and eager to start! We are ready to hit the ground running.

BACKGROUND
The first incarnation of LEGEND OF BLACK LOTUS was as a feature film project based on the fascinating story told to me by Nicole Sessions. That script is written and ready to go -- in the future. But the story had such a lasting effect on me that I want to do something NOW. That's why I adapted the feature script into a short film script.

THE PERKS
When you contribute to this film project you'll be a "partner" in the creation of a film, of which, you will forever be proud. But that's the intangible. Some tangible perks include everything from high-res desktop wallpaper, posters, DVDs, sponsor certificates, film credit, to advance sneak peeks at cool cast videos and a visit to the set!

HOW FUNDS ARE SPENT
Legal fees; equipment rental; food; travel & lodging (for out of towners); lighting equipment; costumes & props; post-production equipment; and DVD production.

HEY, I KNOW THAT GUY!
I imagine a few of you are saying, "I've seen that guy somewhere before." And some of you might ask, "Why is Marcellus Wallace on Kickstarter trying to raise money for a film?" This is our third round of funding! We've got some very encouraging feedback and now Kickstarter was the most logical next step. Remember, this is an all-or-nothing campaign, so pledge today.

Thank you in advance for helping me make this movie!

Project location: Los Angeles, CA

via kickstarter.com

Only 22 days left to help support this project! Are you a backer?

Posted via email from Michael's posterous

Spicy Chicken a la Bernstein's

2010-06-25T09:25:00.000-07:00

Our first summer with our new grill, an event which will allow me to experiment and develop some unique recipes for outdoor cooking. Here’s the first one of the season which I’m sharing.

WARNING: This is a very spicy recipe! Note the optional ingredient listed below, which if eliminated, will cut back the spiciness significantly. You have been warned :-)

Some basic food safety caveats first:

Always handle raw chicken while wearing rubber gloves
Immediately dispose of any packaging in which the chicken came
Thoroughly wash any utensils used while handling raw chicken as well as any surface areas where raw chicken rested

Ingredients:

1 whole chicken, cut into 8 pieces
1 14 oz bottle of Bernstein’s Restaurant Italian Dressing & Marinade

Spice mix:

2 tablespoons of chili powder
2 tablespoons of Lawry’s Seasoned Salt
1 tablespoon of fresh ground black pepper
1 tablespoon of paprika
1 tablespoon of cayenne pepper
1 tablespoon of onion powder
1 tablespoon of garlic powder
1 large pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)

Chicken preparation:

Shake the bottle of dressing well, as the spices as well as the oil and vinegar separate quite a bit. Simply put the chicken in large, sealable plastic bag. Pour the entire bottle of dressing in the bag and seal it. Shake the bag, evenly distributing the dressing on all of the chicken pieces. Open the bag and squeeze out as much air as you can, then reseal the bag. Cover a large plate with two sheets of paper towel, then put the bag with the chicken on the plate and place into the refrigerator. Let marinade for 4-12 hours.

Spice preparation:

Place all the spice mix ingredients into a small, sealable bag. Seal the bag and shake the contents until the color is completely even.

Cooking:

Spray PAM made for higher grill heat on the grates. Heat grill to 250 degrees F.

While the grill is heating, finish the chicken prep. I recommend you do this at the kitchen sink. After donning your (fresh) rubber gloves, remove and gently shake each chicken piece over the sink, then place into a large bowl. Once all the pieces are in the bowl, sprinkle your spice mix evenly over the chicken, “stirring” the chicken gently with your hand as you continue to sprinkle the spices. The goal is to get the spices on all the chicken pieces as evenly as possible.

Place the chicken pieces on the grill’s grates using tongs, giving each piece enough space from its neighbors. Close the grill hood to maintain the heat. Turn the pieces every 15 minutes during this stage of cooking for a total of 45 minutes of cooking. Then turn over the pieces one last time and turn up the heat to 300 degrees F. Close the hood. This last step is necessary in order to get a bit of char on the outside of the chicken.

After a full hour of cooking, your chicken should be done. However, it is advised that you use a meat thermometer to check the internal temperature of the meat, using the guidelines on your thermometer. Once your temperatures are confirmed, your chicken is ready to server.

Side dish:

2 medium red bell peppers
2 medium yellow bell peppers
2 medium green bell peppers
1 large brown onion
1 tablespoon of Lawry’s Seasoned Salt
1/2 tablespoon of freshly ground black pepper
4 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil

Slice the peppers, taking care to remove the seeds and white “stuff” inside. Wash the pieces and drain them well, then place them in a bowl. Peel and slice the onion, slicing the pieces into the bowl with the peppers. Sprinkle on the seasoned salt and black peppers. Pour the mixture into a grill-safe vegetable cooker (they have holes on the bottom) and place on a cookie sheet (only used to prevent spillage here). Drizzle olive oil on the mixture.

Set the grill temperature to 300 degrees F. Place cooker in the grill and cook until the vegetables are soft and have a bit of a char on the outside (20-30 minutes). Remove and serve.

==============================================================

If you try these recipes, please do let me know how they turn out.

Happy grilling!

Michael

5 Things The Simpsons Taught Me About Life

2010-04-03T10:30:00.000-07:00

OK, fanboy time. I heart The Simpsons. There, I said it. Ever since they appeared on The Tracy Ullman Show back in 1986, I became instantly enamored with the whole dynamic of the characters (and the fact that I’ve always loved animation didn’t hurt). As the show evolved and The Simpsons spun off into their own series, I followed along and became a rabid fan. Even to this day, while my Sunday night TV viewing doesn’t revolve around the show anymore, I still frequently watch them in syndication. I’ve seen every episode at least once and in most cases, dozens of times, particularly for the earlier ones.

So, as a devotee of the Yellow Crowd, here are the top five things I learned from watching The Simpsons for all these years:

Everything can be made better with beer or donuts (or both)

  Face it; you want to believe this one. Beer is nature’s perfect drink and donuts, while hardly something nature provides, gives sustenance without the complication of vitamins, minerals or anything else good for you. While pretty much any foodstuff makes Homer drool, he has a special something for his suds and cakes - they get him through (or into) the bad times. 
You can be a total screw-up, but if you’re lovable, people will forgive you anything  

Homer is an everyman, but has almost every flaw known to man. Just look at the facts: Homer has destroyed lives, businesses, homes, even people with his incompetence-enhanced laziness and yet because he’s such a good-hearted “person” (down deep underneath all that blubber), everyone eventually overlooks those flaws. Life can’t be too bad if you’re a Homer. 
Don’t be stuck in the same old career your whole life - branch out and try new things

  Besides his normal full-time job as a safety engineer at a nuclear power plant, Homer has been a recording artist (twice), an astronaut, a volunteer fireman, a team mascot, to name a few of his jobs. Who wouldn’t want to be him? If your current job bores you, try something completely new and unfitting for your background and education. Succeed, fail and grovel for your old job, only to try it all over again another time. Brilliant! Where do I sign up? 
Being a nuclear plant safety engineer means you get to travel ALL the time and still keep your job

  I knew there was a perfect job out there and Homer has it! You’d wonder why he keeps trying to find other careers when he has the deal everyone wants. The man can take his family anywhere around the world - Brazil, Israel, France, England - for weeks at a time and never get penalized! How much vacation time does he have? Come on, you all want that. 
All you need to do is produce an animated series about a dysfunctional family and you can get great guests

Amazing the number of big names that have given voice to their animated selves on The Simpsons. To name but a few: Paul & Linda McCartney, famed physicist Stephen Hawking, Sting, Ron Howard, architect Frank Gehry, reclusive author Thomas Pynchon. The list goes on and on. Whatever it is about Springfield’s favorite family that lures in these famous luminaries, the writers have found the formula.

Do you have any favorite life lessons taught to you by The Simpsons? If so, please share!

The Russian Lawrence Welk?

2010-03-14T18:08:00.000-07:00

I continue to be fascinated by this video, circa the late 1970's, of Eduard Ghil, a Russian entertainer singing a song that has no lyrics (entitled "I Am So Glad I Am Finally Coming Back Home!," subtitled "Vocalization") and has already become an Internet meme. I'm not sure why this appeals to me so much - it is as much for the "camp" value as it is completely the antithesis of our former arch-enemy, the Soviet Union.

Rumor has it that this song actually does have lyrics (about an American cowboy returning home after being out on the range), but Soviet censors forbade Ghil to sing them because they put the U.S. in too favorable of a light.

When you watch this video, note the half-hearted attempt by Ghil to do a credible job lip-synching as well as his somewhat comic facial expressions and gestures. Of course, you may find plenty of humor just taking note of his 70's-era suit or the Welk-esque production values.

Here's to you, Mr. Ghil! My fondest wish is that you reprise this song live for American television some day.

From our hill to yours,

Michael

Peacock peek-a-boo

2010-01-31T22:42:00.001-08:00

Peacock peek-a-boo
Originally uploaded by socalvillaguy

A day trip to see some of our favorite fowl, featuring our fine-feathered friends, the peacocks (and peahens). Enough alliteration for this post, don't you think?

City planners at work

2009-11-01T23:00:00.001-08:00

via lee.org

Posted via web from Michael's posterous

iTunes "Genius" - Does It Live Up to the Hype?

2009-10-10T20:48:00.000-07:00

Some time ago, Apple introduced Genius into one of the iTunes releases, a feature I suspected of "spying" on my listening habits and turned off immediately. Okay, I'm really not paranoid, but I wasn't convinced I should be inviting a "Genius" into my musical life.

Things changed. I purchased a MacBook Pro, my first Macintosh after being a PC snob for so many years, ignoring my wife's claim "If you go Mac, you won't go back." After building my iTunes library on my new toy, I decided to enable Genius.

Man, was I surprised! The first mix out of the box that Genius created was a winner for a couple of reasons. First, the songs all made sense for the theme. They segued nicely into each other and really established the mood. Second, and probably most interestingly, it chose songs I forgot I even had in my extensive library, including a number of B (and C and D) sides I never really listened to very much. I love new music - in fact, I go out of my way to listen to music I know I never liked before just to give it yet another chance. Genius is already helping me in that capacity without even having to download anything new!

What has been your experience with Genius? Are you a believer or a skeptic like I was?

Michael

Photo Credit, Johan Larsson

Monks in Siemrap

2009-09-24T22:24:00.001-07:00

via flickr.com

Posted via web from Michael's posterous

Love this image ... but what is it?

2009-09-24T22:19:00.001-07:00

via flickr.com

Posted via web from Michael's posterous

Feast of San Gennaro

2009-09-24T22:09:00.001-07:00

via feastofla.org

The San Gennaro feast in Los Angeles is coming this weekend.

Posted via web from Michael's posterous

Computer Fun

2009-09-13T10:55:00.000-07:00

The fires are long gone, but that doesn't mean hell has frozen, at least here on the Hill. I am a technology junkie and have been since childhood. I've had professional and person success in that particular industry and even though I've lamented certain practices in the technology realm - in my opinion, computers have primarily been a boon to modern society.

That is, when they work. When they don't, then it's sometimes akin to hell on earth.

Case in point, my four year-old Toshiba Tablet PC suddenly decided it was tired of using its built-in display, forcing me to scramble around on Friday morning until I could hook it up to my external monitor. Meanwhile, I'm trying to decide if I can just live in this split mode or have to break down and get a new laptop).

You may ask if I'm such a techie, why don't I just fix it? Well, I spent several hours on Friday and Saturday adjusting drivers & configuration settings, running diagnostics and fiddling around in general. My conclusion is that this is a hardware issue that can only be fixed by an authorized Toshiba service establishment. It's very unlikely that the cost of repair will make sense in light of the relative low cost of new laptops. And while its replacement won't be a tablet PC (I don't use those features anymore), there are a number of applications I've installed on this one that would be difficult for me to reestablish on a new one. Even if I could find the installation files and the registration codes for the purchased programs, it would take me hours to reconstruct my new environment. Who has that kind of time?

This problematic computer doesn't leave me high and dry, computer-wise. I still have my trusty Aspire One, my primary writing computer (primarily because of its size and battery length) and my MacBook Pro, my latest favorite computer toy. It's just I hate being in a TBD state with my technology. I like fast solutions and none are in the offing.

So, technology challenges are the concern of the day at the Villa in these waning summer days. I'm sure this story will eventually have a happy ending, but until then, I'll remain in computer hell or at least a form of limbo.

Until next time, stay true to your technology!

Michael

110 Fwy view of Station Fire

2009-08-29T15:26:00.001-07:00

110 Fwy view of Station Fire
Originally uploaded by socalvillaguy

This is what the Station fire in La Canada Flintridge looks like to those traveling north on the 110 Freeway just south of downtown Los Angeles. The fire has consumed 7,000 acres thus far and is 0% contained as of this writing.

Fire by iPhone

2009-08-29T00:02:00.001-07:00

IMG_0353
Originally uploaded by socalvillaguy

This phone was taken tonight (8-29-09) from a parking lot near the scene of the Station fire in La Canada Flintridge The flames can be see from the 210 Freeway as well as Foothill Boulevard. Not shown: the inferno just past and over the JPL facility.

Stay safe out there!

If the Smoke Doesn't Get You ...

2009-08-28T17:48:00.001-07:00

Hello, gentle readers ...

A brief update from your friendly correspondent on the Hill.

La Canada Flintridge, a mere stone's throw from us if you can heave stones three or so miles, has had an unwelcomed visitor in their backyard for the past few days. A brush fire started on Wednesday and has developed into an official conflagration. The side effects of this ongoing inferno, at least to us folks here in our neck of the glen, has been smoke and ash. On top of that, we've had a couple days of triple digit temperatures, forcing us to say inside or occasionally take refuge in the cool embrace of our pool. To pile on more kindling, as it were, our air conditioning system decided to take a siesta, thanks to its overheated compressor. Who knew that running the A/C night and day for two days would cause such havoc? Something tells me there's more behind the scenes, but I'm too damn hot to argue with the technician about it right now.

So, the mood in the Villa the moment: hot and irritated. My darling spouse has minor surgery in the morning as well, so she's not going to enjoy convalescing in tropical temperatures. Who can blame her? I'm getting overheated just writing this short blog post.

I'll leave you with a few fun photos from the Villa. Please send rain. Thanks.

Bird-Brained

2009-04-25T01:34:00.001-07:00

So much has happened on the Hill since I last posted, I hardly will be able to chronicle it all, even in summary form. And yet, we've temporarily halted our construction projects as it seemed rather pointless to do so in today's economic climate. I'm not complaining, mind you, but when we first purchased the Villa, we had high hopes for a multi-year construction effort with a goal to retire to the desert once we sold it. While that still may be what's in store for us in the future, it's probably not going to happen for several more years beyond our original plans. Those that are best laid, though, often go awry.

I've remained healthy since my relapse in early 2008, something we all are thankful for. Even Weasel, our beagle mutt, seems to be happy to have me around the joint all the time now. While I was in the hospital, I really think she was glad to have me out of the house so she could have all of my wife's attention. In her own passive-aggressive way, she allows me to feed her, to give her treats and to even let me rub her tummy, though I can see the sneer of contempt hidden behind her yellow canines.

Our cabana has remained unused for the last year or so. Instead of a place to hang around during the lazy summer months, it serves as both storage location and future home to some persistent mama bird who diligently keeps trying to build a nest inside the globe of our cabana's ceiling fan / lamp. We've resorted to running the fan at slow speed 24/7 in order to discourage her from trying to make the lens her offspring's home. I love nature and all, but let's keep to our own parts the property, shall we?

One of the biggest accomplishments of the year on the Hill thus far – and thanks to Leia, my cost-conscious spouse – we've moved everything out of offsite storage to our garage (after giving much of it away to Goodwill and other charities). All of our worldly possessions are now within reach, even leaving us some room to pull in our car. Someday, we may even take on the project to remodel the garage and hopefully will downsize even further. I admit I don't need three-quarters of the books that are filling the twenty or so boxes out there. The funny thing is I've donated as many as ten boxes already. Writers are usually voracious readers (and book-buyers).

So, that's just a snapshot of a few of the happenings up here on the Hill, in the place we call our Villa, located in the foothills of Montrose. Until next time, gentle reader, be well.

Michael

Consolidation Consolation

2009-01-24T13:41:00.001-08:00

Today is one of those rainy, foggy days on our side of the foothills. The fog isn’t your standard amorphous haze, but rather appears in the form of low hanging clouds that seem to ebb and flow like slowly billowing smoke from a large fire. It's winter on the hill, at least California-style winter, which means the rains are back. Good for most of us as it hydrates the tinder-dry brush surrounding us, but not so great for folks in areas previous burned out during the fires last year.

We're in consolidation mode over at the Villa. Last year, there was a mad rush by my wife to paint the kitchen and adjoining dining room. She did a heck of a great job, too, but it rendered our kitchen somewhat inoperable for a couple of months. I had to put my gourmet weekends on hold as a result, which I have not yet returned to now that the kitchen is back to normal. I'm not sure whether it was the steroids I was on for my dermatomyositis that caused all my energy last year, but I'm not feeling it now that I've been off the meds. For all the side effects prednisone has, their healing powers are nothing short of amazing, let me tell you.

So, now post-paint, we're in the mode of moving all of our junk located in off-site storage back to our garage for processing. "Processing" in this case means separating our must-haves from our don’t-needs. For the most part, I'm a slash-and-burn guy. My philosophy has been that if I have used it in a long time, I don't need it. That pretty much applies to everything except for all my books - boxes and boxes, a library full of them in fact. I've already gone through many of the boxes and donated those I knew I never would read to Goodwill. However, there are more boxes yet to be inspected similarly. If lucky, I'll end up with only half of my current cache. THEN what do I do? I think we'll end up accelerating our project to remake the garage, including my fantasy bookshelf cabinet.

Why the work? If the truth be told, my wife is hell-bent on reducing our monthly outlay for unnecessary luxuries like off-site storage. Good in theory, but what may be a problem in practice: will we have enough room to pull in the car or will that be a casualty of the cost-cutting effort? I mean, leaving the car to the elements probably has a cost involved, too, right? I post this with an eye on revisiting my comments a year from now, when the car has gone through four seasons parked in the driveway. Or not.

So, from our place high up and below the 2 Freeway, take care.

Michael

Going Green In The Foothills

2008-11-16T12:57:00.001-08:00

Yesterday we bade farewell to an old friend, a reliable gal that stuck with us (and sometimes to us) through thick, thin and in between. We honor her memory and wish her well in her new life. That companion, of course, was our venerable Mercedes-Benz 230C, a 2000 model we bought when she was less than one year old.

The evidence that we would need to part ways with her were there, we just ignored it. Our dog, Weasel (the beagle mutt) has peed on the back seat enough times - without us cleaning it promptly, of course - to cause the leather to start to disintegrate. Instead of repairing it, we did what anyone else would do who lived in denial AND loved their dog … we covered the corroded leather with some froufrou faux tiger skin pillow so Princess Piss-A-Lot could have her way with something less valuable.

Then there was the nick here, the ding there, an unsightly scuff in an embarrassing place (including one little episode with the garage door I'd rather not admit to). You know how it is: signs of wear and tear that every vehicle exposes to the world, much like our own ventures through life mark us in interesting and unusual ways. Eventually, our Maker (or Makers, for at times, man seems to have been designed by a committee) tells us our time is up and we needed to be traded in for a newer model.

There you have it, the three biggest businesses wrapped up into one lovely package: maternity, religion, and carcass disposal. Who would've thought that philosophy was so interwoven in buying a new car?

Unbeknownst to our old Benz, we had rented a Prius for a week while on a trip back east to visit family. My wife had started on the marketing campaign earlier in the year and convinced me we should try it out. Her arguments we simple: they use less gas and are therefore better on the environment and they help save a lot of money on fuel costs. I wasn't that convinced. Frankly, I thought that the Prius looked like a pregnant warthog and felt like it would attract elements from a fringe society I'd only read about in long screeds in the news media: yes, I mean environmentalists. If we owned a Prius, would I have to buy Birkenstocks, too?

I didn't want to give up on the old girl, though. I have a ten year / 100,000 mile / three major problem rule with my cars. If any of those criteria are met, it's time to replace the vehicle. At 97,000 miles, she was still cranking along, as reliable as ever. It wasn't going to make the 10 year mark until 2010. However, after we took her in for a regular service, we got the bad news … it would cost about one-third of her Kelly Blue Book value to bring her up to "code." Since the extended warranty expired in August, we'd have to pay the full freight. Not to mention the fact that the trunk door, a spring-loaded affair, had a failure, making the door dangerously prone to dropping onto an unsuspecting hand (or head). OK, her time had come.

Saturday started off innocently enough. My wife dropped me off to get a haircut and she was going to "run some errands." Little did I know that she was plotting to pick me up and take me to the local Toyota dealer to scout out a magnetic gray Prius she found was lurking there when browsing the internet. Two hours after getting my ears lowered, our bank account was reduced by a proportionate amount … though I think the latter expenditure was a better investment in time and money. And our little Mercedes … traded in as part of the deal.

Sail on, silver girl.

From our villa to yours, stay cool and fire-free this week.

Michael

The Most Important Election of Our Lives

2008-11-04T09:48:00.002-08:00

The Stones

2007-10-14T22:44:00.001-07:00

Okay, not the ancient rock band, but the paving stones. We THOUGHT we had the colors picked out that would best complement our paint color, but the samples for the pool coping that the contractor brought over are all wrong and doesn't appear to be what we thought we were signing up for. Leia is an unhappy camper and thanks for her OCD tendencies, we spent the better part of the weekend looking at paving stone installations all over our neck of the woods. At this juncture, we're still undecided about what to do, but this decision will further delay construction. 2007 is winding down quickly.

No activity on the stained ceiling situation. We're going to have to bring them back to assess whether or not the OxyClean will further reduce the discoloration or we're going to have them get it painted. I'm leaving that decision to Leia at this point. If I were to make the call, I'd have them in and painting this week to get it out of the way.

It rained up on the Hill this week, making it a bit sloppy in the pre-construction zone. We didn't get any painting done this weekend, but Leia did do some trim painting during the week. The job is slowly, but surely, getting done. However, I think even Leia is finally seeing the wisdom of hiring professional painters as our neighbors had their house painted in less than a week this summer . . . and here we still are. But we're saving money!

We think our neighbor did some repairs to block the deer from descending our hill and into the street. The herd finally made an appearance this weekend, but we above the fence line and from what I could tell, they looked kind of pissed they were kept away from their favorite ivy. Who knows, maybe we can have our hill filled back in and new ice plants planted to keep our natural retaining wall intact.

That's all from our little Villa. May you all have a wonderful week. Stay tuned for some pictures to come.

Michael

Battle of the Pool People

2007-10-07T21:29:00.002-07:00

After meeting with Leia to discuss the details of the pool construction, we got a proposal from the contractor. The problem is the contractor is kind of giving us attitude about the work we want to do, arguing with us about certain particulars as though this was his house, not ours. They were technical issues where we would normally defer to the expert, but rather subjective issues specific to our needs and desires. It made for a difficult series of discussions.

With that in mind, we went to the pool contractor's major competitor to get a second quote. Not only was the price less, but the company was completely on the same page with us and what we wanted. We didn't need to debate the merits of why concrete vs. paving stone decking (a decision we made already). They didn't try to gouge us for pouring concrete for the pool pump / filter platform. Bottom line: it looks like we're going to go with the second company. Too bad, contractor #1 - next time, you may remember who the customer is and what your job is to make them happy.

Speaking of happy - or should I write happier - we had the HVAC contractor test the ceiling material and confirmed it isn't asbestos. That's good news, because if the OxyClean treatment doesn't finish lightening up the stained ceiling, we can have them bring a painter in to do the job. As it is, they've come in again this week to apply another round of cleaner. We're monitoring its progress.

More painting this weekend. I only had time to get the garage's second coat on. Meanwhile, Leia's been painting the trim and gutters. Talk about an awesome color combination! I think we're going to be very pleased with the results. We have to finish the painting this week so the construction can start unabated.

It's getting chillier up here on the Hill. Fall is definitely in the air. October has always been my favorite month and it's wonderful to see the leaves starting to change color in the foothills. I hope we're going to be motivated enough to go hiking this fall. It's a beautiful area to hike in.

Looks like my folks will be out here for Thanksgiving this year, a first since I moved to California. This is helping us keep focus on getting this project done, too. I can't wait for them to see the fruits of our labor.

Nothing more happening worth telling this week from our little Villa. See you all next time.

Michael.

Up On The Roof

2007-09-30T21:57:00.002-07:00

Well, we were lucky. The leak wasn't as bad as we thought and for once, we were able to find a really good contractor who did quality work. We had them fix the leak, remove an only vent and skylight as well as repair some other problems with the concrete tiles. And we decided to install another support pole to raise the sagging area just over the kitchen window. It will interrupt the view a bit, but we'll feel safer that way.

We finally contracted with the paving stone company. They will demo the concrete in the back, run the gas, electric and irrigation lines to the right locations and then install paving stones. After that, we're having them tear out the asphalt driveway and brick sidewalk and replace it with paving stones that will run all the way to the back of the house. Tomorrow, the pool contractor is coming out with the barbecue guy and we're going to set up our contact with them, too. With any luck, we'll have this entire job completed by the end of October.

Today was yet another painting day up here on the Hill. Today's target: the outside of the cabana and the front of the garage. I was out there for about six hours today and I'm dog tired (which, watching our dog, is really, really tired). I tell you, I have a lot of respect for people who are professional housepainters. It's not easy on the joints, especially if you're pushing fifty like I am.

The ceiling follies continue. The HVAC contractor came out twice this week and applied an even stronger concentration of OxyClean to the stained area on the ceiling. They delivered the final invoice this week, too, so now I have to talk to the owner to let him know we want to hold back some of the final payment until we are satisfied with the job. I know this is going to cause an argument, but this is the only way I feel comfortable we're going to get these guys back here to finish the remediation. We'l see how that goes.

That's all from our construction site on the Hill, the former Villa of peace and relaxation. I keep telling myself this too shall pass.

Until next time, be well . . .

Michael

Now What?

2007-09-23T21:51:00.001-07:00

Hello, faithful readers . . .

Greetings from one soggy Villa, courtesy of a late summer rain here on the Hill. The rain did take us by surprise (as has the sudden spate of cool weather recently). Naturally, with the change in weather came another discovery in our house. Our roof leaks, but first a review of the earlier part of the week.

There was a lot of activity with the HVAC contractors. First, their roofers came and did what they needed to do to vent the new furnace. The city inspector came to bless the furnace before they could finish the hook-up and fire it up. All went well there.

Meanwhile, Operation Whiten Ceiling was in full force. The team shifted from a bleach solution to OxyClean (you know, that annoying Bills Mays guy shouts about it, among a hundred other products). Supposedly, this stuff takes out stains without bleaching anything … I think they use a hydrogen peroxide compound or something. The good news: the staining is slowly fading. The bad news: the "slowly" part.

Then the rains came and with that, we discovered water dripping into our hallway. We didn't have this problem last year, but here it drizzled, through the new return cut into the ceiling. Our first assumption was the roofers didn't install the flashing right when they put in the new vent pipe. We called the HVAC contractor - Joe, the owner, was on call - and he came over on Saturday. He confirmed two things: the new venting pipe installation was solid and that we had a leak in our roof from at least one other place. It appears that when the previous owners closed off the skylight, whoever did the work did a crappy job patching over the opening with plywood. Now that there's a vent, the water drips down to the floor (instead of collecting in the fiberglass).

Joe showed what a nice guy he was. He ran out and got us a tarp, then went on the roof and covered up the affected area so that any further rain wouldn't cause any damage. This was totally above and beyond the call, but as he said, it was the least he could do (considering the ceiling situation). Speaking of which, while he was here, he applied more of that OxyClean to the ceiling. That's the only thing that's left on the construction job, by the way.

So, the roofers were going to come back this week because Leia wanted them to do a few things and they were going to inspect the entire roof, too. Looks like we're going to have to have roofing work done as part of this construction, too. This house is going to be the death of me / us. Leia is starting to call it the "money pit."

The only other exciting thing was today was a painting day. I worked on the stucco overhang outside and Leia handled the outside of the cabana. We have trim to do and the front of the garage as well and then we may be able to schedule construction. We'll see.

Anyway, that's all from here, folks. I wish you a wonderful week and a special request to stay dry.

Michael

Alligator Lizards in the Air

2007-09-16T20:46:00.002-07:00

Here's a fun one: as part of our HVAC upgrade, we have to have our roof ventilated accordingly, which requires (of course), the services of a professional roofer. Who shows up on Friday to inspect the roof work but a three hundred pound contractor, someone we expect to work up on our concrete shingles and not add to the significant weight already up there. Not only does he scamper up there to check things out, but he's up there smoking on our roof . . . our roof that is surrounded by dry-as-kindling vegetation, may I add. If you recall, this was the same conflict we had with the HVAC contractors themselves. Anyway, they are expected to return on Monday to do their work on the roof as well as some other jobs we'll be giving them while they're here.

Speaking of the HVAC contractors, they came back this week to finish changing out the air vent grills to something more modern. They also spent part of the time over two days blotting our stained ceiling (from the leaky condensate pipes) with bleach-soaked rags in a vein attempt to remove the aforementioned stains. Shoot me now, please. We await the inevitable war with the owner about actually FIXING the damage instead of trying to make it disappear in a flood of bleach.

Painting again, but this time, today's Tom Sawyer - aka, my wife, Leia - didn't have to say anything to me to get me out there. I actually went out on my own because (I can't believe I'm saying it) I want wanted to paint today. There's something almost Zen in the process and gives my brain a chance to churn on some stories and other things. How's that for a twist, folks?

It's getting cooler up here on the Hill. Our pool guy, Fantastic Mike, told us there are only a couple more weeks of good swimming weather and then it's over for the season. We don't have a heated pool, so I pretty much believe him. Besides, we're slowly getting the house ready for the construction project I've babbled about all year.

This week's special guest critter: a genuine alligator lizard, famed of song and fable. Leia found the little feller crawling up the screen outside the kitchen window and watched in fascination as the bruiser (about two feet of him, snout to tail) wended his way down the window and into the garden area below. Cue beagle . . .

That's right, Weasel, our lovable and somewhat sadistic mutt ended up cornering our AL (the Alligator Lizard), much to AL's chagrin. We came home from dinner to find her herding it like she was a border collie or something. God knows how long she had been torturing that poor thing! We were able to distract her long enough to let AL zip into his hidey hole.

Take two, Weasel . . . Leia was out the next day for several hours and when she came home, she found the large rock under which AL had zipped rolled over on its side along a large scattering of pebbles and door surrounding the AL's lair. AL was nowhere to be found, but we were amazed that our little beagle was able to move such a big rock herself to try to get at her new playmate, AL.

Needless to say, AL has vanished from the property. He probably decided to find a safer place to play, like the freeway.

And so, from our wild animal sanctuary to yours, we wish you a wonderful week. Thanks for visiting the Villa!

Michael

Power UP!

2007-09-09T19:53:00.001-07:00

Greetings from our newly energized Villa!

If you recall, last week, we had our HVAC replaced during the hottest week of the year. We certainly didn't plan it that way, but in typical Cordell style, that's how it planned out. Also, I related the story of the leaking condensate pipes that had damaged our ceiling. We've been on hold with the repair of that ever since it was reported.

The only work that got done by the HVAC contractors was our electrical capacity was doubled to two hundred amps. The old system wasn't sufficient to handle the new HVAC plus all the other modern electrical gadgets we use in this century. Also, we needed to put another subpanel on the side of the house where we're going to locate the new pool pump and filter.

Besides the ceiling repair, the only thing left is for them to complete the ventilation of the heat from the attic through the roof. They need to bring in a roofer who knows how to cut the type of concrete roofing tiles we have up there (and they need to seal the vented area, too).

Meanwhile, the temperatures did cool down significantly on the Hill-a this week. We dropped fifteen degrees as early as Wednesday and it got to the point where the mornings were actually chilly. That's the deal living in the foothills . . . temperature extremes are us.

Leia went to an estate sale and bought a wheeled cart that she took home to store her painting supplies on. While she was at that task, she decided to reorganize the entire garage such that if we want to, we can finally fit the car in there. We'll probably not do that until we get the pool equipment of the garage so as to not block way for the pool guy to access that area.

Today was painting day on the Hill-a. I painted the entire cabana again (second coat) and Leia handled the trim and touch-ups. She also has been priming the trim around the decorative windows that surround our circular bump-out for our dining room. Ever so SLOWLY, this house is being painted. I will take the opportunity to say (once again) that if we hired a professional painter, they'd probably be done right now. I am well aware I'm going to have my head handed to me for repeating that claim.

And so, as the sun sets in the Southern California sky, we bid you all a wonderful week and a hope to see you again here next time.

Michael Cordell, professional house painter extraordinaire

Bakin' In The Sun

2007-09-03T21:27:00.001-07:00

Welcome to Southern California, home to the frying humans. Dear God, people, will some douse the big light for a while? Up here on the Hill, we've been experiencing temps in the 103 to 107 degree range for most of the last week and don't expect a respite until Wednesday, Thursday tops.

NATURALLY, this was the week we scheduled to have our HVAC system replaced. That led to several days without air conditioning here while the work was being done. Poor Leia, she had to hang around while the workers were doing their thing - no air and she didn't want to hang in the pool with a bunch of strange men around. At least I got a chance to escape to the comfort of my air conditioned office in downtown LA. Not my poor wife, though!

Leia tried painting on Monday despite the temperature. Why, you ask? Because she's obsessed with getting this house painted so we can schedule the remodeling of the back of our house. If you recall, I wanted professional house painters to do this work because a) they're better at it b) they're more efficient at it c) I wouldn't have to get involved. Needless to say, if did it my way, we would've had the whole house painted long before this extended heat wave. So, the painting work is on hold until the outside cools down enough to retain the paint on the surfaces.

Back to the HVAC . . . as you would expect by now, things weren't perfectly smooth. First, the contractors smoked. They took their dirty habit outside, of course, but left cigarette butts all over our driveway. Not cool! Besides the fact that it's slovenly, we live in a fire zone and pay a ton of money for fire insurance. This whole area is a tinderbox and one stupid move by a careless smoker and BLAM, good-bye, Montrose.

Leia called the office of the contractor to request they keep their butts off the property, but sure enough, it happened again. Leia called again, but it happened yet again. SO, she handed the foreman (one of the smokers) an ashtray we keep here in case her mother visits and told him to use that; his response: we'll try. We'll TRY? After she heard that, she was convinced she'd never recommend this company to anybody.

By Friday, we discovered that the foreman was relieved of his oversight on our job and the younger guy was now the foreman here. Leia said they all smoke, by the way, so we didn't know what caused the change in command.

On Saturday, we're getting ready to go out to dinner and a movie, when Leia looked up in the living room and said "Is that water?" I checked it out and confirmed it. We had a water stain on the ceiling running all the way to the air vent. Water was all over the carpet and leather couch, too. We turned off the air conditioning and made an emergency call to the company, then another when we didn't hear back from them for forty-five minutes. I was then able to talk to the owner who was enroute with his son, another employee.

Turns out, a PVC joint didn't seal and condensate spilled onto the fiberglass and ceiling material (he estimates a couple of gallons). They fixed the problem quickly, but we spent at least twenty minutes drilling him about what they were going to do with the ceiling (they're going to have it fixed at their expense), about the smoking (he wasn't aware of the number of repeat complaints) and the change of foremen (the first guy had a "meltdown" after the initial smoking complaint and copped a major attitude).

As of this writing, there have been no further leaks, though the living room ceiling has a long patch of yellow that's stained it. What's bad is we're not sure if the popcorn ceiling material contains asbestos. We have to make sure it's tested before it's taken down and replaced. Looks like we'll have a mess here for some time no matter what.

It's the typical Cordell luck . . . if something can go bad on a job, it WILL - and in spades, too!

So, from our hot little nest to yours, I wish you all a fine - and cooled down - week.

Michael

Cabana Capers

2007-08-26T16:25:00.002-07:00

Back to painting that bloody cabana, the newest albatross to hang on my neck this summer. Can you imagine how difficult it is to write the Great American Novel when you're standing atop a ladder, rolling coloring over wooden surfaces of what really is a vacation home for a beagle mongrel? Let me tell you, it's pretty damn difficult.

So, the current goal is we need to finish painting the house (including the cabana, my natural born enemy) before we can schedule the myriad contractors to make a complete mess of our backyard. Not that I'm bitter or anything, but I'm beginning to think that I'm living in a Fellini movie and the only thing that's missing at the moment are the midgets on unicycles. Stay tuned, I'm sure they'll be here.

One thing that's finally going to get done without me having to lift a finger . . . starting Monday, the HVAC system will be overhauled and we'll be operating with cooling equipment we can use that won't send us into the poor house. The thought of running the A/C for a short time to bring down the temperature is music to my brain waves. And when winter comes - for indeed we have a form of the season out here - to use the heater without worrying if we'll die in our sleep from carbon monoxide poisoning makes me almost giddy - and not from lack of oxygen in my brain this time, too.

I don't write about my work in this blog, but I have to inject this update so you get a general idea of how things are going for me. We held off taking a real vacation during the first half of the year because of the anticipated cruise from hell off the Gulf of Mexico. We expected such because we'd be in New Orleans in the middle of friggin' August and out in the Caribbean right in the middle of hurricane season on board one of the oldest ships in Carnival's line. No WONDER the cabins were so cheap!

As I mentioned before, my father-in-law got sick and died soon thereafter, which caused us to have to cancel the cruise at the last minute. Suffice it to say, the prospect of missing the bruise cruise wasn't a tragedy in and of itself. In our own way, I think that was Howard's way of doing one last solid for us. As I told him, I owe him a beer, to be paid when it's my time to make "the Final Tour."

Anyway, Leia and I talked about scheduling a vacation for just the two of us later this year to make up for the vacation we never took. Imagine my joy to find out that two of my key staffers resigned this week and a third is making a decision on an offer she has in hand. Let me explain that it's difficult to replace staff people in my business, at least in Los Angeles, so for the duration of the openings, I'll have to take over a lot of their work in order to keep the trains moving. Beautiful . . . say good-bye to a vacation this year!

Meanwhile, to add insult to injury, the only trip I'll be making this year will be to Chicago in mid-October for meetings. Now, to put this in perspective, let me say I'd rather go on a cruise on the USS Titanic in January in the mid-Atlantic than travel out of state for MEETINGS. Shoot me now, will ya?

Okay, that's all the whining for this week, but I'm sure I'll have plenty of whine to add next time. So, please have a wonderful seven days until we meet again and by then, I'll be in air conditioned heaven here in our Villa on the Hill-a. We hope.

Michael

Back to Painting

2007-08-19T22:39:00.002-07:00

Oh boy, the dog days of summer are upon and where would you think you would find me except with a roller in my hand? That's right, back to my favorite activity next to getting a prostate exam, painting. Target: the cabana, this spring's victim of sewer sludge, for those of you who haven't been reading. Leia wanted to get the cabana painted and the door frame and door replaced before the concrete demolition is planned and as has been the pattern, I spent the better part of Sunday painting Killz in there, losing my partner in painting somewhere along the way.

As I told Leia today, there are few things I hate doing more than painting . . . going to Ikea is probably one. I liken visiting Ikea to entering the seven circle of Hell. I would be painting around the fourth or fifth.

We brought out a friend of friend who has a business making doors and doing other woodcraft. We told him what we needed and he's going to get back to us. We also talked to him about building us a barbecue, one of those dreams that I'm still holding onto. I don't think it's fair to have to go out to a restaurant to get a steak, but Leia refuses to touch a piece of beef broiled in an oven.

Other exciting stuff on the Hill . . . we bought shades for the windows that face our western exposure in a late attempt to stop the highly powerful sunrays that heat up the Villa to a mere 90 degrees F during the late afternoon. Meanwhile, our old and decrepit cooling system is still wheezing, trying to keep up with the load we've been putting on it. It's about to have a coronary, I swear. Now that Leia is back and our vacation is untaken, we can now bring Joe and the gang in to revamp our HVAC . . . and not a moment too soon as we are about to enter another mid-90 degree week.

Anyway, the previous shades put up by the former owner were hung on hooks that were tenuously screwed into the stucco in front of the large kitchen window. I had to drill new holes into the stucco since the hooks that were there weren't aligned with the mounts on the new shades. The only hook that was positioned right, the middle one, was barely hanging on to the stucco, even with an anchor stuck in it. So, I've been spending the last few days using concrete patch to lock the hooks into place before we hang the shade. Something tells me that those hooks are not going to hold the weight of those shades when it comes time to hang them.

Remember when I wanted to get that system in place in the Spring?

Meanwhile, Weasel (the mentally ill beagle mix) has finally accepted Leia into the family unit after my wife's extended absence tending to her ailing father. Dogs are funny . . . Weasel seemed to have copped such a major 'tude with Leia for a while, leading us to believe she was either pissed or jealous of no longer being the alpha female.

So, from our very dry Villa to yours, I want to wish you a happy start of your week. If you feel so inclined, drop me a line . . . I love hearing from all my friends.

Best,

Michael

Fade to Black

2007-08-12T22:10:00.001-07:00

On July 5th, my father-in-law was diagnosed with liver cancer after they found a malignant eleven centimeter tumor on that organ (which was also encroaching on his pancreas, we think). Howard passed away early in the morning on August 6th. They had given him up to six months to live after the diagnosis, but his other medical conditions and old age probably were what accelerated the end so much.

Poor Howard didn't go down easy, that's for sure. He spent the last two weeks of his life going through "terminal restlessness," a condition caused by failing organs (like the liver and kidneys) which causes a build-up of toxins in the bloodstream. That build-up leads to severe psychological issues, including hallucinations, delirium and an almost insane desire to get out of the hospital bed. Unfortunately, the patient says a lot of hateful things to family and friends in that state and in spite of knowing that he's not in control of his senses, the barbs are hurtful anyway.

Leia called me after she found out from the hospital that he died, so I spent the morning making plane reservations, packing and getting the dog ready for boarding. After stopping in Phoenix and changing planes at Chicago Midway, I landed in Louisville where my wife was waiting to pick me up.

On Tuesday, we drove to tiny Tuscola, Illinois (population 4500) for the viewing and graveside service to be held the next day. A number of Howard's family and old friends showed up as well as former co-workers and students of his (Howard was a football coach and teacher in the Chicago area). About twenty people went to the cemetery for the burial. My mother-in-law asked me to read a poem, specifically Tolkien's "At the Grey Havens" from Lord of the Rings trilogy, edited slightly to alter the "Middle-Earth" reference to something more suitable.

There was no post-funeral get-together, though some of us ran into each other at Flesor's Candy Kitchen, an old haunt of Howard's and a place he would take my wife to when she was a little girl. Only recently, the Kitchen was restored to its former state by the family of the original owners. If you want to visit (or revisit) America at a different time, go to Flesor's.

Afterwards, Leia, her mother and I drove back to the cemetery where my mother-in-law sprinkled the ashes of their last dog on Howard's now covered grave. Pets always meant a lot to both of my in-laws and their last dog, a Boston terrier, was their love.

We decided to take a short drive over to Arthur, Illinois (another tiny town), to visit my mother-in-law's hometown. Arthur as a large Amish and Mennonite population, so we saw all manner of horse and buggy contraptions and other old-fashion conveyances for those religious folks. In recent years, young Amish have taken to modern amenities . . . according to my wife's aunt who still lives there, she's seen Amish teenage girls walking down the streets of Arthur talking on cell phones!

The trip back to southern Indiana took close to five hours, bring us to my mother-in-law's house close to eleven o'clock. It was a long day of driving for all of us and we were exhausted.

On Thursday and Friday, we helped my mother-in-law with a lot of the paperwork issues, cleaned out some closets and such and in general tried to get her organized as much as possible before we had to return. I think we left her in good shape, but thankfully, my wife can fly out there anytime she's needed since she doesn't have an outside job to go to. The dog and I have already proven we can survive alone and the house didn't cave in.

Leia is happy to be back home and is grateful she had the chance to go back to spend time with him and help her mother out during this difficult time. Eventually, we'll be back to normal here and back into our construction project.

Until next week, we extend good wishes from our Villa to yours . . .

Michael

Treading Water

2007-08-05T21:14:00.001-07:00

Today began my third week of forced bachelorhood. Leia extended her trip to be with her terminally ill father. He's in the final two-three weeks of his life and she (understandably) wants to be with him until the end.

Every day, I've been getting two to three detailed updates about his condition, which has been rapidly declining since she got out there. He's in a coma right now (a "light" one, it seems), but because he's on a DNR order without food/water, it's only a matter of time before the end.

Meanwhile, I've been holding the fort down over here. The dog and I have gotten into a routine that's worked. I'm hoping I won't have any problems boarding her when I get the fateful phone call.

Because of this situation with my father-in-law, we canceled our cabin on the long-awaited family reunion cruise to Cozumel and Costa Maya (this would be my family). We're disappointed we won't be able to see my folks or my sister and her kids (not to mention our favorite aunts and uncles), but obviously, this other situation is more important.

At construction central, I formally canceled our contract with the original contractor we signed up with and who provided us the landscape architect we used. I wouldn't say it was a total waste of money, but in the end, we probably jumped the gun by getting into a deal with them. So much for former business clients being good vendors. In the end, their product was overpriced and they wouldn't budge. C'est la vie.

It seems one of our neighbors has been hosting a very loud and atonal rock band at their house. The group doesn't sound like they took a whole music lesson between them, but what they lack in talent, they make up for in amplification and stamina. How many hours a night can they play? The bigger question is why haven't the cops come over to break up their "rehearsals?" I wonder if this is destined to be my real life in suburbia - and whether our band was equally annoying to the neighbors when I was their age?

So, besides trying to block out bad music, to keep myself occupied, I've been reading, writing, editing and swimming (not necessarily in that order). I've also been doing the housework (some of it, anyway). The walls are still standing, so I must be doing okay.

That's all from the Villa this week. Rather ho-hum, I'm afraid. The action will resume in the near future and then I'll be once again complaining about crappy contractors, home rip-offs and all the rest.

Until then, have a wonderful week.

Michael

Bachelor Days

2007-07-29T16:33:00.002-07:00

Four more days until Leia returns from visiting her mother and sick father back east. She's been giving me twice or three times a day reports on Howard's condition. He ended up back in the hospital again after he fell out of his bed trying to get up in the middle of the night. They've kept him there ever since. After they discharge him, he'll be going to a nursing home, still under hospice care. According to Leia, every day is another drift downwards as far as his mental condition goes. Physically, his vital signs remain satisfactory.

So while she's back there, tending to family business, I've been holding the fort down during one of the hottest weeks we've had so far this summer. I've gotten used to not running the air conditioning most of the day, but by the time the western sun appears in our rear windows, I'm forced to turn it on for a couple of hours. The local A/C guy called to find out what we were going to do since the prices of the units we are considering are going up in price, but what could I tell him? We'll just have to wait until late August when we're back home and Leia knows she's going to be in town for a week.

The beagle mutt remains painfully verklempt over her mama's sudden departure and extended absence. That makes two of us.

Meanwhile, in bachelor-land, I've been making due. Leia left plenty of leftovers, though when I finally did order delivery Italian food, I ended up with more than pasta. First, the delivery guy calls me with such a strong Armenian accent that I couldn't understand him, but I finally figured out he wanted directions (and didn't want to sell me aluminum siding as I first thought). I tried to explain to him how to get to our oasis on the hill, but finally I gave up and told him to call his restaurant for help, thinking they spoke the same language.

He FINALLY showed up and didn't seem to happy to have been lost or that I wasn't particularly helpful. Meh. Anyway, he just stood there with a bag and after a moment of staring at each other, I asked him if he needed my credit card and he nodded his assent. I went into the office to retrieve it and returned just in time to see him trip over and break on of my sprinklers that was mounted near the driveway. Seems that he had to run back to get the credit card gear he forgot in the truck.

Instead of apologizing or saying anything remotely comforting, I watched as he took the broken sprinkler head and place it next to the semi-upright pole. We finalized the transaction and after he left, I inspected the damage. It was enough for me to call the restaurant and complain.

I didn't talk to the owner until the next day and he was about as cooperative as his driver. As it turns out, our gardeners were there that Friday and seemed to have replaced the broken sprinkler with a used one (from where it came, no one knows … I hope my neighbors aren't missing one). After I pointed out the delivery guy's lack of acknowledgement about the damage he did, the owner ("Jerry") finally apologized for the damage and told me to find out what it costs to fix it.

A postscript to that story … I tested out the new sprinkler and it squirts absolutely nothing, but dribbles a little bit. Wonderful.

Besides that little fiasco, I've been fine. I even remembered how to do laundry! Normally, I'm only on folding detail, but I fully integrated my wife's system into my "home alone" phase without incident. However, that doesn't mean I'm getting used to it, either! This house is pretty big with just one of us here.

So, that's all from Bachelor Central. I hope all of you have a wonderful week and to those of you who have commented, it's really great to hear from you. I wish you all well.

Michael

Empty Villa

2007-07-22T17:36:00.002-07:00

This will be a short post this week. The family crisis I wrote about last time continues. My wife has flown back to spend a couple of weeks with her father, leaving me to fend for myself.

Now, I was single (on and off) for long periods in the past, so it's not that I can't take care of myself and the dog. The thing is when you've been married a long time to someone and you two have rarely (if ever) been apart, it's a major transition to go from a house of two to lone wolf status. We're definitely not one of those couples that need our "space," that's for sure.

So, with Leia back east, any work on the remodeling project remains on hold. I'm just biding time until our mid-August cruise and then sometime in the fall, we'll get the construction back on track. We'll enjoy our existing pool and deck for the rest of the summer.

Our family of five deer routinely make stops at our house, eating the tasty flowers in the front yard and tearing the hell of the hill on the east side of our property to make their way into their woods. They don't look to leave when we pull into the driveway, though they haven't gone as far as to make a stand and forbid us from passing through. I told my wife that one day, I'm going to wrestle one of 'em to the ground to show him who's boss, but I'm afraid his friends will kick my ass. Bambi may have been cute and fuzzy, but I bet he was vicious when someone prevented him from his summer flowers.

By the way, the dog is pining like mad for her "mama." How can I tell? She just mopes around in back and jumps up every time I walk back there like somehow Leia's just going to pop up from thin air. I explained the concept of air travel to her, about connections through St. Louis and how Southwest only gives peanuts and a box of mystery snacks to eat. It was this last thing that caused her to turn away in confusion.

And so, on that note, I'll wish you all safe flying (if you're traveling this week) and remind you to keep in touch should you have a hankering.

Best,

Michael

A Family in Crisis

2007-07-15T16:29:00.002-07:00

I'm going to step away this week from my normal light-hearted posts to write about something serious.

My father-in-law, Howard, is eighty years old and has been a diabetic almost half his life. While it is impressive that he has lived this long with diabetes, it hasn't been an easy road for him. He's been progressively losing his sight over the years and in recent years, has only been able to walk with the help of a walker.

Five years ago, Howard had a quadruple bypass and really never been the same since. Even though he rode religiously on his exercise bike several times a day, he was only able to briefly stave off the debilitating effects of heart surgery and diabetes.

A couple of weeks ago, my father-in-law was diagnosed with liver cancer and given six months to live. He has an 11 cm. tumor on his liver which, though has not metastasized, is impacting his liver and possibly his pancreatic functions. He gets out of the hospital tomorrow (after having a fall at home), but the family has decided that in-home hospice care would be the best choice. Howard thinks so, too. The poor man has suffered with his illnesses for so long, he's just looking for peace.

My wife is an only child, lives 2,000 miles away, so she feels guilty for not being there for both of her parents during this time. She is planning to fly back there this week to make sure everything is set up for the hospice people and her mom has everything under control. Of course, she's dealing with the grief of losing her father before the end of the year, something else that keeps her up at night.

My mother-in-law has tried to remain stoic through all this, but she has periods of depression as well. It's difficult to see your spouse of so many years on their last legs, so to speak. She's also concerned about how she will fare financially once Howard passes on. Obviously, she has nothing to worry about while we're still around.

And so, that's all to report this week. Give your family a hug and tell them you love them if you haven't done so lately. You have time.

Michael

Holidays Are For House Painting (Right?)

2007-07-08T16:15:00.001-07:00

This past Wednesday was Independence day in the States, a national holiday stuck right in the middle of the week. Because my staff is much more clever than I am, they all got their vacation in before I did, so I took the honors and hung around for most of the week. Naturally, I was looking forward to relaxing poolside on my day off, perhaps mixed with long sessions writing. To me, a perfect day was planned.

Not so for Leia. She was up fairly early Wednesday morning, all busy with herself around the house. She had a laundry list of chores she was going to do and wanted to get a jump on the day. Good on her! I was fairly certain her running around wouldn't interrupt my dance with my muse.

An hour after I was deep into one of my newest stories, I look outside and see her painting. Now if you haven't read my blog before, we're doing this construction project and my wife decided that to save money, SHE would paint the outside of the house. I told her that was fine, but I was not going to get involved. Besides hating painting with a passion, I work long hours in a boring office so I have the privilege of NOT doing manual labor during my free time. I'd rather spend those few hours being creative and preparing for (what I hope will be) my next career. She has assured me many times that this is her project and she'll do it. Fine.

If you're a husband, you know it's not that easy to watch your wife doing "manly" chores while you kick back. That nagging guilt thing starts and soon, you're out asking questions. This time, I resisted and continued to write And write. And write some more. Meanwhile, she's now painting near where my study is and I see her out there struggling with the ladder, so I finally break down and see if she needs help with moving that at least. Here's a synopsis of my conversation with her (ladies, tell me if this sounds familiar):

Me: How's it going?
Leia: Fine.
Me: You need something to drink?
Leia: No.

(At this point, her responses are monosyllabic and atonal. Not a good sign. I plunge forward.)

Me: Anything wrong?

(Now at this point, you guys must be thinking I'm an idiot. Let me assure you, I am an idiot.)

Leia: Nope.

(Uh oh, "nope" … doesn't read as ominous as it sounds, but trust me, it is. I decide not to take the bait.)

Me: Okay, let me know if you need anything.
Leia: I know you'd rather be writing.
Me: Yep.

(Two can play this game).

Leia: It's just that …
Me: What?

(D'oh!)

Leia: I know you would've been happier with a condo or townhouse so you wouldn't have to do any work around the house. And that's okay.

(At this point, it's far from "okay" … the tone of voice and the smirk tells me otherwise)

Me: No, that's not true.

(Hell, it is DEFINITELY true … not the condo comment, but the "work around the house" part is partially true … I am not very skilled with my hands. I was bred to be an office worker, not a odd jobs mechanic. I don't mind doing most of those kind of things, even though I'm not good at them. But painting … for the birds).

Leia: Sure, it's true. But this is my project, so go back in and write.
Me: No, I'm coming out to help.

(God, I'm stupid).

Leia: No, it's your day off. Go back inside. Really, this is my job.
Me: Nope, I'm helping and that's THAT.

(Like how this whole thing turned around? … now I'm arguing with her to do the thing I hate most).

So, I go into the house, put on my painting clothes and spent the rest of the afternoon painting on a holiday when the rest of the country is enjoying grilled food, time with friends and family, water sports, etc. Fun.

Leia informed me yesterday that we save $3,000 to $5,000 doing the painting ourselves. I didn't have the heart (or stomach) to tell her a) we're far from done … this is only the first coat, then there's the trim, etc. b) on a $60,000 construction job, $3K to $5K is a drop in the bucket c) professionals would do it better, cleaner and safer. I also didn't want to remind her what my hourly rate was at work compared to a professional painter, either … in a cost-benefit analysis, the project would be bounced during the first review.

*sigh*

Well, I got the last word. I made sure that neither one of us painted this entire weekend.

From our (half-painted) Villa to yours, I hope you have a wonderful, paint-less week.

Michael

Hot, Hot, Hot

2007-07-01T16:38:00.002-07:00

Greetings from our steaming villa to yours! This pre-holiday post will be pretty short, mainly because not a lot has gone on in the past week here. Most of the activity has instead been with our families who are located on the east coast … health issues, for the most part.

Leia got a lot more done in the painting (and preparing for painting) department this week. I have to admit I did squat there myself. If you recall, painting is one of my least favorite chores and because my dear wife chooses to save a few bucks by doing it herself doesn't make me feel guilty at all. Frankly, if she wasn't going to do it, it wasn't going to be more than a phone call to get someone to do the job.

On the schedule, it looks like that we're not going to start the reconstruction until after labor day. We have enough on our plate before we go out of town in August. That doesn't mean we won't be doing the pre-work, though … but it's swimming weather and we don't want to lose the pool for the work that has to be done there.

On the HVAC replacement side, we pretty much decided on the contractor and now that our familial health issues seem to be under control, we'll be ready to commit to that effort. And just in time, too! It's been killer hot here in the foothills (hovering around 100 degrees F today). Soon, my pretty, soon … cold air will be ours.

I don't know if you're a sky watcher, but the full moon last night was AMAZING (and so has Venus). We have such an outstanding view of the western sky from our back deck. We go outside at night, lay out on our deck chairs and just relax … quite nice, isn't it?

Okay, that's all to report from here. Leia made homemade meatballs this afternoon and we're on point to have pasta with homemade tomato sauce. Can life get any better?

Have a wonderful 4th of July, friends!

Michael

Change of Direction

2007-06-24T22:19:00.002-07:00

First, I'm happy to report that the fine people at Southwest Airlines found my temporarily misplaced Nano. I got a call from lost luggage (though it wasn't checked in) late in the week that they found one that sounded like mine. I was able to positively identify the little bugger and it will be back in my hands sometime this coming week. Unfortunately, it seems my Bluetooth adapter (which I finally remembered keeping in the same camera case) is missing for good. Oh well, that's easily replaceable.

Meanwhile, back at Villa Central, we made a major decision on the plan for the remodel. Instead of going with poured concrete, we decided to go with paving stones. Unlike concrete, paving stones don't crack when settled and we're getting lifetime guarantee with the installation (which we can use as a selling point some day for future buyers). I was concerned that the sand that the paving stones are packed with would eventually erode from the pool waters (as well as rain) and eventually loosen and shift. We were assured that stones around the pool are sealed and the fact that the work is guaranteed means if any loosen, they'll come back and fix them for free. Brilliant.

Now that we're going with paving stones, the driveway and side walk areas are now back in play. This is something we were deferring until next year, but the cost is more appealing now, so we may all this done sometime this year.

With this decision, it looks like we'll be saying adios to the company we went to first for the all-inclusive contract (and the landscape architect we've been working with). They never really came down to a more realistic price compared with their competitors and it's our feeling they were just itching to get rid of us because Leia has been grinding them on the price points. It's not that our contract was that little, believe me … but they just didn't want to cut their profit margin any more than they did. It's their choice to stand pat and it's ours to walk away from the table.

As for our ongoing fence dilemma, we're thinking more and more we won't have to replace the fence after all … or at least, we're not going to until inspectors explicitly tell us we have to. It's all about the interpretation of the way the municipal code is written. We'll see when the time comes.

I took the first dip in the pool of the season today. Quite nice, I must say. It will even be nicer when the plaster is replaced with PebbleTec. The question still remains "when?"

Leia's trick to hang Coast brand soap from panty hose in trees to repel deer hasn't worked (even though it seemed to at first). All weekend long, our deer friends have been tromping all over the property, eating out of our ivy and generally tearing the hell out of the hill that runs up the eastern side of our property. When we redo the landscaping in that area, we're going ot have to reinforce the fencing along the property line to keep them from using the hill as their pathway … otherwise, we'll never keep the ivy plants alive there (which is used to hold back soil erosion).

Another wildlife story which I forgot to share … Leia was heading to the car one afternoon and happened to spy a bobcat with a live (and soon to be dead) rabbit clutched in its jaws. The little creature scaled the eastern hill at a rapid rate and jumped on top of the retaining wall. It then sat there staring defiantly at my shocked wife, the adult rabbit in death throes in its fangs. Wild nature abounds up here.

That's all from our little Villa, friends. I'll leave you with this one thought: in this world, you're either the rabbit or the bobcat. Which one would YOU rather be?

Michael

Lost: One 8GB iPod Nano

2007-06-17T18:31:00.001-07:00

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

We were traveling back east the last few days. In fact, we just flew back yesterday. It wasn't until I arrived home that I found out the camera case I kept my Nano and headphones was missing. Gone. Kaput. No hint of its whereabouts anywhere.

Made my calls to the airports, hotel, rental car place … while not conclusive, it's almost a foregone conclusion that this is a lost cause. But I'm not giving up yet. I'm a hopeful fellow, always looking on the bright side of things. Maybe! So, by power of the Holy Internet, I'm asking the following: if you traveled through Louisville or Las Vegas Airports yesterday (6/16) and found a brown camera bag with my black Nano and headphones in it, I'd be much obliged if you contacted me through this blog to let me know you have it and how I can arrange to retrieve it.

Like I said, desperate times, blah blah.

It's not the cost to replace the thing that is bothering me nor is it the time it will take to rebuilding the library. It's the fact that I normally pride myself on being very careful (and hence responsible) and I literally lost it. It being the Nano, but it also being my mojo.

Possessions will possess us and all of that, I know, and an iPod is certainly a luxury item I could live without. However, it's the PRINCIPLE of the thing. Arrrgh!!!!!!!!

It wasn't as humid in the South as it has been in past visits. In fact, the entire Ohio River valley is in the midst of a pretty serious drought. The temperatures were pretty high, though … well into the 90's.

When we got home, we found an unexpected bill from the landscape architect we hired for the design part of the build. Leia swears we didn't owe any more money on this job (yet), so now she has to contact her this week to figure out where we (or they) were wrong. We had so hoped that this project would be done by this time, but instead, it's more likely than ever we won't start until the fall.

And so, that's all from our Hill. I wish you all the best week possible (and little Nano, if you're ready to come home, please call me … collect). And to you fathers, I hope YOUR day was perfect.

Michael

Perfect Weather

2007-06-10T18:30:00.001-07:00

We are finally experiencing those moderate temperatures we've been waiting for. The last two weeks have been absolutely gorgeous on the Hill. Warm, but not hot; breezy, but not windy. Weekends have been the best for just lying out on the deck chair and writing (or snoozing). It's these kinds of days that convince me we made the right decision buying this house.

On the remodeling front, not a heck of a lot to report this week. We're still talking to various contractors and subcontractors to try to figure out what we're going to do. I'm leaving the majority of that interaction with Leia as this is her project.

For example, the second landscape architect she talked to … the guy hasn't gotten back to us at all, even to check in. This is usually the first warning sign, when the contractors are flakes now, they will definitely be that way later one. At least the first LA has been keeping in touch with us (and I think she's getting a bit frustrated that we're still in the "talking" stage, but that's the way Leia is managing this).

The second fence / gate guy (who also was a flake) finally remembered to call us back, but Leia hasn't set up any appointments with him. It turns out we may not need to replace the fence after all - if the notice in the Glendale community paper was correct about the height requirements. According to that notice, we're fine as we are. We'll only need to replace the two gates.

Then there's the air conditioning / heating. While the first contractor cools his heels (no pun intended), we're going to bring in a second one to give us a quote as well. Unfortunately, I don't know whether the first guy is aware we're still thinking or if we just flaked, too.

One of the pool guys called early in the week asking what we were going to do and requested that we call him back so he knows what to do with our file. I don't know if Leia got back to him, but he's another contractor we have dangling because of the complexity of this thing.

In the world of home repair, I replaced our master shower head with some fancy two headed hydra thing that Leia bought at Costco. If that's as complicated as it gets, home repair is perfectly fine.

Weasel, the Wonder Beagle, has been loving life, of course, though she goes into these semi-trances that kind of weird me out. She'll stare at some unseen bogeyman for several minutes, usually something on the other side of the redwood fence. Leia thinks it's rodents or something, but I insist she's just insane and there are ghosts in her brain. After all, she's like twelve (84 in human years) and maybe she's suffering from the old Alzheimer's or something.

Leia went into the pool today and proclaimed it was still too cold for normal use. I trust her judgment. As much as I love to swim, I also prefer not putting the family jewels into a deep freeze. I can wait another couple of weeks.

I'll be going out of town this week, so I'll have lots to report on Father's Day. Meanwhile, from our lovely abode to yours, I bid you a fond adieu.

Michael C. Cordell

Five O'Clock Bird

2007-06-03T16:59:00.002-07:00

It's that time of year on the Hill where we sleep sometimes with the sliding glass to the bedroom open. Leia and I both love the air up here and it's so pleasant to wake up in the morning with that fresh morning scent wafting in from the flora in the foothills.

The first morning we did this in this season, I was woken up by the steady, monotonous chirping of an unseen bird at 5:00 AM, the sound of which is eerily like my alarm. Since I normally wake up at 5:45, this was a bit of a rude interruption of my last minutes of sleep. The next morning, the same bird, same chirp at exactly the same time. This continued for a few more days until it got cool enough (again) not to sleep with the door open.

I named our new neighbor the "Five O'Clock Bird." His timing is uncanny (and his chirping is perfectly annoying).

Meanwhile, contractors o'plenty visited us this past week. Leia met with a new landscape architect - who also happens to be a pool expert - to discuss the project we're still trying to get completed. He sounds like he knows his stuff, Leia believes, so now we're waiting for a proposal from him.

We decided to bring in the arborist's team here to trim away the dead underbrush to trim the trees in preparation for fire season (an $850 investment). The same day they came, the city's own sanitation department showed up to do their part of the clean-up. Quite the coincidence and quite the traffic jam of trucks in our little cul de sac. When it rains, it pours (as it were … because if it rained a lot more around here, we wouldn't have to worry about the dead vegetation!).

I was off from the J-O-B last Friday for the Memorial Day holiday, so I arranged for a heating & air conditioning contractor to come by to do an inspection and tell us what we needed to do to address the cooling loss we have. Of course, they confirmed our ductwork needs replacement as well as the installation, but there is a whole lot more. Our electrical system is undersized for the house. The air conditioning unit is old and inefficient. Our heater is in a place that's not the best and is advised we put it into the attic. The bottom line estimate for all the work they are recommending: $15,000! The contractor has a good rating on the BBB and has had no complaints whatsoever. However, isn't it always the way? You think it's going to be one job and it turns out to be SO much more. Anyway, we're going to bring in another contractor to give us a comparative quote. We'll see what we're going to do.

The second fence / gate guy never called us back to make the appointment, so I think we're going to wait a while long before we call him back. The new landscape architect we talked to is recommending a whole different fence solution - something that would put the fence below the sightline, especially when sitting in the pools - so who knows what we'll do there.

Leia painted most of the second coat on Monday, though still has the ceiling of the overhang to finish. We're still debating about the trim color, too. She doesn't think it's dark enough now that she's had a chance to live with the test colors. Personally, I don't care as long as I don't have to do the painting. Of course, I say that now, but I know I'll be up there with a roller again very soon.

That's all from the Villa on the Hill-a. Thanks to everyone who've taken the time to write me and give me their thoughts. I hope your coming week is a great one!

Michael

Around the House

2007-05-27T18:43:00.001-07:00

Happy Memorial Day to all! Today's post will be somewhat short due to the holiday weekend, but there are a few things to report.

We continue to get quotes in from the various subcontractors for the major parts of the remodeling job. The concrete and pool quotes arrived and has made it a bit easier to understand how we're going to proceed on the project. We haven't made up our minds yet, but we did provide the major contractor with what we will hire them to do the job for with the building requirements defined. If they can meet the bottom line, we may consider them; if not, they don't want part of it, so we all walk away "friends."

Martin, the Celtic gate/fence guy, stopped by the Hill for the second time. He met with Leia the first time, but she was so taken with the sincerity of the guy, she insisted I meet him this second time. It seems that since Martin's last visit, he's become quite busy. Leia told me he seemed much "hungrier" the last time he was here. That's the way it is with these craftsmen, once they have a backlog, they stop being salesmen. That's not to say the guy was rude - in fact, he was quite helpful and seems to be a very kind man. It's just that we're going to have to work into his schedule now and not the other way around.

Next week, we're arranging to have a different gate/fence builder come out to get another quote. This second guy (Mike) seems to have quite a different personal style than Martin, but he comes highly recommended by Guillermo, the cement guy we may use. We'll see what he has to say.

On another note, I finally arranged to have a heating & air conditioning company come out to inspect our insulation and ductwork leakage and give us an estimate on what can be done to make our HVAC more efficient. One question that through me when I called … they asked me if there is a rodent problem which is causing this! Like I would know! Let's pray that's not the case, but now I'm worried.

This weekend, I joined Leia in the painting party that she started for herself a couple of weeks ago. We were able to get the first coat on in the rear of the house and hopefully she'll be able to make a big dent on the second coat this week. With any luck, we'll be able to close the books on this part of the project while still working on getting the contractors aligned.

Leia is also doing something very interesting with the red gravel and large stones that are in the back. Instead of getting rid of all that detritus right away, she's creating quite a lovely little gravel path along the side of the house with the large stones lined up along the edge near the ivy. It looks QUITE nice, I do have to say. She's so creative, that wife of mine!

Just a note, the temperature in the pool is 76 degrees. Still not quite warm enough for these old bones, but then again, the temperatures have remained on the cool side for most of the last month or so. Our really hot weather came for a little while, then left. Trust me, it will be back.

So, on that note, I'll wish you all an enjoyable weekend. Toast a weenie for me!

Michael

Digger O'Dell

2007-05-20T17:37:00.001-07:00

I've said all along our beagle mutt is insane and this week's observations prove it. Leia called me into the living room to look outside one night this week because the security light kept going on and off. There was good old Val, digging like a mad canine, nose firmly stuck into the earth as she pawed the dirt where our landscaping used to be.

What the hell?

When she came to the bedroom that night, her white muzzle was brown from the soil she was snorting in her quest to reach China. She's a hoot! Our nutty little pooch!

Meanwhile, the parade of contractors continues here on the Hill. We've had cement guys, pool guys, fence guys and soon, landscapers and more pool, fence and cement guys! As is par for the course, Leia is fast becoming an expert on all of this construction stuff and yours truly has been providing a little tech support in the way of a spreadsheet to figure all this out cost-wise.

Then there are the other add-ons involved in this remodel. We're now thinking of relocating the built-in barbecue from directly behind the garage to under the ficus tree which sits kitty-corner from the kitchen. We could have a bar with seating around the grill and I can enjoy the view while cooking. Not bad!

We're also trying to figure out the water feature. The proposed wall of water is currently priced at $8,000 which is way too far out for us. Instead, we're thinking of going with a pot motif and using a recirc pump to refill the draining pots. Makes cool water noise and looks pretty, too.

Meanwhile, we got a quote to clear out the ivy that's entangled in our fencing (as well as to remove the old chain link) - almost $2,000! That's quite a bit of money for a relatively small demolition job.

Leia's been busy with the contractors this week, so there's been no further progress on the painting.

We heard from the "one stop shop" contractor (the one who also contracts our landscape architect). Apparently, their not necessarily going to be interested in doing only part of the job because there's not enough of a profit margin in it for them. We'll see … we're working on a counter offer and see if they'll bite.

So, that's what's going on with the remodel. The only other piece news … we got a quote to clear out the underbrush and trim some trees that need to be cleaned up for the fire season. That one's going to set us back "only" $850. This is the same group we used to trim the King of all Ficus Trees, so I think we'll be fine using them.

Nothing more of interest from up here at the Villa. I wish you all a wonderful week.

Michael

And the Painting Begins …

2007-05-13T19:23:00.001-07:00

Hi, it's Michael again. Here's another installment of events that transpire at our Villa on the Hill-a, as I so cleverly (if not lamely) call it. We purchased an almost-fifty year old house close to a year ago and since then, we've been working to remodel the place to eventually sell before retire. The goal: the put less money in and we end up getting out after all of the work. Naturally, we're also looking to live in a beautiful home for a long time, but our timeline is such that if it all works out, we'll be moving on sometime in 2014 or so.

We call it a "villa" because this custom house is quite like a villa. It's set in the foothills of Montrose, California and has an absolutely beautiful view of the Verdugo mountain range. When we first saw this place, we thought it looked like a villa in the hills of Greece or Italy. Friends who have been both places immediately agree.

We're trying to figure out what we're going to do to remodel the rear of the house. We have a pool and hardscape that needs upgrading. With that, we need to update the cabana and the exterior paint. We recently found out that we'll have to replace the perimeter fence and the gates (code issues). In addition to all this, we want to build a nice barbecue, plant some beautiful landscaping and perhaps add a water feature to give the back area some class.

In our possession, there are three quotations (struck in various shades of detail) and now we're trying to find out whether to go with one of these "one stop shop" places or just hire the subcontractors ourselves. I'm leaving the project up to my wife, Leia, who insists on doing everything as inexpensively as possible.

With that in mind, Leia recently power-washed the rear of the house to prepare it for the external paint job we need. Today, she did the first section with that paint and it looks wonderful. If the truth be told, I was the one who decided on the color. Who says guys don't have any taste?

On the contractor front, Leia has been entertaining pool construction vendors to get quotes from them. Our recent "one stop shop" quote seems excessive compared to the job that this last group can do. It's looking positive for the subs right now.

Meanwhile, we brought over a solar heating vendor yesterday. We're still iffy on heating the pool, but we're definitely sure that we're not going to use gas heat. At $300 to $800 a month to hear a pool that way, we'll leave such indulgences to others. If we don't go solar, we won't go at all … that much is clear.

It's fire season in this area - in fact, three weeks early, according to traditional measurements. That means we need to expedite getting the underbrush cleared out from the east side of our house. We're waiting for quotes to come in to do the work and hope that this won't kill our budget.

Our landscape architect, God love her, emailed us to find out if we're going to go with the company that contracted her to do the entire remodel (the ones with the overpriced bid). Leia was kind, but honest, and told the LA that the price for certain pieces of the remodel seem inflated and we're going to look at other options. Frankly, I prefer the one stop shop approach, but Leia is dead set against spending extra money for the privilege.

Well, it's Mother's Day here on the hill and it's time for me to break away from the computer for a while. We wish you and yours a wonderful Mother's Day, too. And if you're interested, don't hesitate to comment on this blog. I would love to hear from you!

Best,
Michael C. Cordell

Sticker Shock!

2007-05-07T18:50:00.001-07:00

We finally received the quote from the contractor for the remodel of the rear of the house and it wasn't pretty. That's not to say that the rendering isn't gorgeous; it is. If only we could transform the picture to reality in a blink of an eye. The price, on the other hand, was just plain coyote ugly. The quote was more than $30,000 higher than the highest one we already had. And this is AFTER we took the driveway out of the project (though admittedly, we had added some items in this new one that weren't in the other two). Comparing apples to apples, though, this one was just plain outrageous.

Our landscape architect was sympathetic, of course, and right away went back to the general contractor to get them to start cutting back on things. No, we don't need an $8,000 water feature. We can do without the top grade steel for the concrete's rebar or the best redwood for the fence we're going to have to put in. Sadly, it looks like my nice custom barbecue is going to get nixed for something less ambitious.

The second price came in, this time $30,000 less than the first proposal, but still too high for the scaled down project. This is fast becoming the plan that will never get off the ground.

Meanwhile, Leia's all fired up now and calling different subcontractors to get informal bids on key parts of the work we want to do. I'd rather not have to become one half of the general contractor team because this is not our expertise. I know from when our house was built in Hermosa Beach how subcontractors are uncooperative with each other and with inexperienced GCs. We'd end up with a mess on our hands, I guarantee it.

On a more positive note, we went to the annual imported furniture sale held by Leia's favorite wholesaler and found some wonderful bargains. Last year's was held in July when we bought several rattan and teak pieces for the inside and outside of the house about a month after living here. This time, we bought more teak for the outside - two deck chairs, a dining table and chairs and a small utility table. We also bought a small Chinese cabinet which wil lgo very well with an antique Chinese bench we've had for several years.

Leia already started sanding the teak furniture, at least those pieces that are stained, in order to bring back the wood to its natural teak finish.

So that was the weekend, purchasing and then picking up several pieces of furniture in a rental pick-up truck.

This coming week, Leia is planning on power washing the rear exterior of the house and then painting it with our chosen color. I'm not a big fan of house painting (as you may know from reading past blog entries), so I say more power to her! And just in time … the hot weather arrived. A normal spring would've been preferred, but no, we went from cold and damp to hot and dry overnight.

So, that's all from our Villa cum money pit. I wish you all a wonderful week in your own abodes.

Michael C. Cordell

The Aftermath

2007-04-29T16:49:00.001-07:00

Things are slowly getting back to what we call normal up here on the Hill. The insurance paid our claim and while it didn't cover the whole outlay of cash, it went a ways to making us good on this fiasco. Lots of lessons learned, as I've written before.

Some folks have asked me if this whole experience has soured me on our purchase or the idea of buying an old house in the first place. Let me say that I love our house as does Leia. While she's frustrated by the whole affair (certainly more than I am), she's resolved herself to press forward with redesigning the house.

We are still waiting for the design plans to be presented to us along with a quote for all the work. If you recall, this project started sometime in February and if everything went according to plan, we'd be completed before the beginning of June. Here it is, almost the beginning of May, and we don't even have a quote yet! Something tells me that we're going to unhappy with the proposal. Adding the rebuilding of the fence, replacement of both gates and some other necessary changes has forced us to put the remodel of the driveway off until another phase of the house construction.

Cost is certainly a consideration, but also we need to mind the health of the driveway while other construction projects go on. The elevation of the driveway is such that any truck that traverses it is likely to scrape the rear end on the driveway surface. Having that happen would just about kill Leia.

Meanwhile, Leia has been trying out even more colors on our multi-striped rear wall. While I think I've seen the right color that will make everyone happy, we still don't know until the landscape architect comes out to look.

I haven't written much about the interior lately. Leia has been trying to find the "perfect" lamp for the living room for some time now. She had something specific in mind and was driving herself crazy trying to find the real thing to match her mental image. One day, she came home, triumphantly brandishing this very unique, silver and glass looking lamp. Today she was able to find some vases and other bric-a-brac to match the look tha the new lamp brings. That kind of stuff makes her happy. I'm a guy, what do I know?

So, this manly man decided to address the misbehaving washer exhaust hose once and for all. If you recall, I jerry-rigged something last year which lasted fine until the recent sewage crisis. This time, I decided to buy a replacement hose, one that would go further into the standpipe and prevent backflow. It was a bit of a struggle (mostly because I don't know what I'm doing) but fifteen dollars later, I had the problem fixed. So far, I haven't seen any more water backing up. Leia will keep an eye on it, of course, and let me know if my repair wasn't successful.

Leia spent a few hours the last several days scraping the remaining glue on the concrete floor in the cabana. This is the glue that held down the indoor / outdoor carpeting that got damaged by flood we had in there. We're still trying to figure out what we're going to do near-term in the cabana. My idea is just to get an inexpensive areas run to cover most of it until we're ready to remodel the entire cabana. That should last us for the summer without much fuss or muss. Leia's not so sure, but she hasn't articulated what she really wants to do at this point.

During the month of May, our city officials in conjunction with the fire department visit residences to determine how much of their scrub needs to be replaced before fire season hits us. I know that we'll have to bring out the arborists to make a clean sweep of the hill on the east side of our house, but that's part of the joys of living in the foothills.

Speaking of the arborists, we had them come out this week to inspect the Algerian ivy that grows behind the fence we'll have to move. This is the same ivy that is most likely responsible for the root problem we had with the sewer pipe. Anyway, they told Leia that they found rat droppings in the run between the wooden fence and the chain link fence behind that one. All this time we thought our beagle mutt was insane as she just stared for hours at the fence, but in actuality, she was tracking (with her hearing, I guess) the rodents as the scurried along their little running track. So now we have to bring in the exterminators to deal with THAT problem. Great.

The weather has been summer-like for the last few days, which has brought the return of our lizard friends. I'm hoping that our snake friends will also come back … maybe they'll enjoy the rat feast that has been growing all spring.

Okay, that's all from the Villa for now. Thank you for all your wonderful comments, I'm quite happy my blog keeps so many of you entertained.

From our Hill to yours,

Michael

Sewer Wars, Part II: The Insurance Man

2007-04-22T19:55:00.001-07:00

Life on the hill finally has returned to semi-normal, but that really didn't happen until Thursday and without a few more dollars being burned on the altar of home repair.

First, it wasn't until 8:00 last Sunday - an hour before The Sopranos came on - the rooter place completed their repairs, did a thorough inspection of the inside facilities to make sure that everything was in working order and get their final payment. The plumber wondered why the water flow was so low in the powder room, but didn't look too closely. On the washer exhaust hose, he suggested getting a different type the allows one to flex it so it will fit deeper into the standpipe.

All in all, I think they did an excellent job - quite professional, in fact.

Meanwhile, the clean-up company finished what they had to do on Sunday night and promised to come back in three days to check on the progress of the drying effort. We had a bit of a challenge keeping the fans running during that time due to the overload on the circuit (which kept popping the breaker when we turned on one to many devices), but at least that was underway.

Then we called the insurance company to make a claim … or at least find out whether or no we should, since we don't want our premiums to increase. The adjustor is a good guy and wants to help us out. For example, he wanted a receipt for the hotel I had to stay in that first night. He also wanted to know how many hours of work we put in to do the cleanup so we could possibly be reimbursed for that, too.

We already got word insurance isn't going to cover the de-rooting and the pipe repair. We're still waiting to hear on the rest.

Meanwhile, the cleaning company came back and tested the moisture level in the affected areas. It was still damp, so they cranked up the fans and came back a couple days later. All was dry, so they packed up camp, too.

Our rattan and teak furniture is still outside as I write this, protected under the overhang in the rear of the house. We were planning on returning it to the cabana this weekend, but didn't get around to it. I'm not in a rush to do it because I would rather have the floor recarpeted or resurfaced somehow before we do all that.

We still have to start treating all the drains with environmental friendly liquid the rooting guy left behind for us. It will help attack the clogs early and hopefully keep them clean until our next rooting effort.

All of this has changed our plans with the remodel. We decided to defer the driveway repaving until the last step in our remodel. First, it's a practical matter since we'll have trucks up and down here when we remodel the kitchen at some point. Money was a secondary reason (for me), but Leia is ever tight with a coin and decided our unexpected sewer problems set the project back a bit. I just hope the asphalt driveway can hold up in another hot summer here. Last year it was too soft during the hottest days.

Leia has gone back to the proverbial well to try out more exterior paint colors since our landscape architect turned up her nose at the color we chose the last time we showed her. We also have to have our arborist come out and cut back the ivy that is growing behind the fence at the rear of the house. This way the LA will have a better idea where she can plan to put the new fence so we can set the height properly.

That's all from our villa. May your life be free of sewage problems (or any other kind) and have a wonderful week.

Michael
http://www.michaelcordellauthor.com

Sewer? I don't even know 'er!

2007-04-15T09:36:00.001-07:00

Sewer? I don't even know 'er!

Sunday, April 15, 2007
You know what? It's not always easy being a homeowner.

Take this week, for instance. Thursday morning, I'm taking my morning shower and noticed the drain was running slow again. The last time this happened, I had use the snake to clear out hair and other gunk. Once I did that, it was fine.

I mentioned the slow drain to Leia and promised to take care of it over the weekend. Later that morning, I get an email from her asking me if I had problems flushing the toilet in the morning. Nope, everything went down fine. Unfortunately, not for her … followed by the washer outflow backing up. She called our home warranty place to get a plumber out here. Still no emergency …

Then, the you-know-what REALLY hit the fan, folks.

She noticed that sewage was now rising up in the master shower, seemingly out of control. Luckily, she ran out to the garage to get a bucket to bail out that mess and saw the overflow in the cabana bathroom that flooded the adjoining floor AND soaked into the wall (and on the floor) of the adjacent garage.

On the way back in, she confirmed a similar sewage mess rising up in our newly remodeled guest bathtub - the one we had the Miracle Method done in.

In the middle of this out of control drainage problem she emails and calls me in a panic; quite understandable. I tell her to turn off the supply valves in the toilets, then call the city for her to get the sewage department over to check out what appeared to be a problem on their side. I also called the home warranty company to make the plumber call an emergency.

The city came out pretty quickly, but told us it wasn't their blockage, it had to be something in our system. By then, the sewage stopped coming in the house.

While waiting for a call-back from the plumber, Leia got the Wet Vac and started clearing out the master bathroom. By the time I got home, (a) there was no word yet from the plumber (b) there was the cabana and guest bathtub to clear out. What a mess!

Somewhere in the crisis, Leia never got the call from the emergency plumber and by the time she checked the voice-mail, it was well after six o'clock. The plumber reported he wouldn't be able to send a crew until the morning, leaving us with no bathroom facilities.

I ended up staying at a local motel Thursday night so I had a place for getting ready for work. Leia remained at the Villa because of the dog.

Friday morning, the plumber came and said it wasn't a covered repair (that is, it was a major sewage problem). Leia then called a rooting company who tried to power spray through the clog. No good, that only forced even worse sewage back into the various water sources in the house (the toilets, tub and master shower … thankfully, it appears that the dishwasher and washer machine were spared).

Saturday morning, the crew showed up to begin the semi-excavation project. Ten thousand dollars later, it's Sunday morning and they're still working on it, thanks to a sewer pipe that angled in an odd way. Meanwhile, we brought in a cleaning crew to deal with the worst of it.

The cabana was a major catastrophe. The rug had to be removed, part of the door frame had to be cut away. As of this writing, the bathtub in the guest bathroom is stained and we're working to get it whitened again. Otherwise, we'll have to bring the Miracle Method people back to recondition it.

We're hoping our homeowner's insurance will cover some portion of this mess, but I haven't gotten a return call from our agent yet … and probably won't, either.

Lessons learning … buy an old house in an area with old vegetation, have the sewer inspected and cleared out; buy a maintenance contract from a rooting company to keep the sewer pipe clear; consider yourself lucky when damage to your cabana happens BEFORE you spend all that money to remodel it.

That's all from the Hill. I hope your problems all flow down the drain.

Michael

Don't Fence Me In

2007-04-08T12:50:00.001-07:00

I'm all a-twitter today … my beloved Sopranos are back on the air for the last nine episodes of its entire run. In honor of the occasion, my darling Leia is making meatballs and pasta for dinner tonight. I went out yesterday to pick up all the ingredients and now I sit in anticipation for tonight's showing. David Chase, you are like a god to me …

Speaking of "God," happy Easter to all of you who celebrate the occasion. Mass was very crowded today, so much so that I left early (which I try not to do) right after communion. Too many people and I was feeling a bit closed in. That leads me to …

Things are always so complicated when governments get involved. It's bad enough to deal with some of the silliness the Federal government puts us through, but then you have the state, county and local ordinances that pretty much define and guide everything we do.

Take our remodeling project, for example. The design portion is coming together after the brick controversy. Our landscape architect is now building in a sitting area near our cabana (under our newly trimmed ficus tree). The other sitting area outside the master bedroom will have a different purpose, as well as look / feel. All is well in the concrete color department, which will help us to decide on the right exterior house color.

Then we have the discussion about the gates that lead into the pool area. The main gate (between the house and the garage, the area called the breezeway) is only four feet tall and any pool construction will necessitate a five foot gate with very specific features. This is all for safety reasons for any children dumb enough to try to get into our backyard. Okay, I can live with that.

Leia's having a fit about spending money on a gate when we are planning at some point to join the kitchen to the garage (thereby eliminating the breezeway). That will give us another seventy-five square feet in the kitchen. Obviously, the end result will be ditching the gate, but it makes no sense to close up that area right now since the workers who will be remodeling the back need access from the driveway to the work area.

My opinion, of course, is we shouldn't let a little thing like replacing the gate prevent us from remodeling or changing our plans so we do the kitchen first.

There is another gate - on the other side of the house - that will be needed to be replaced, too (it's a chain link type, but still too short). Since we're going to replace it, we'll go with a wooden fence there, since Leia despises chain link fencing.

The cause of this week's angst isn't the gates, but the fence behind the pool. That, too, is below the code. That will have to be replaced AND the chain link fence that's hidden behind it as well. It's silly for this reason: the rear of the house is a very steep slope and no kid will be able to climb up the ivy and then scale the existing fence. It's just not going to happen, folks. I know, when I was a kid, I wouldn't have gone through all that trouble when there were easier pools to access elsewhere.

We're going to bring the city out here to eyeball the place, but we presume we're going to have no choice but to replace the fence with something higher. We're hoping that we can set it back further down the slope so our view isn't impacted when it is rebuilt (and it would give us more room behind the pool). The point is this: there are rules and regulations for a reason, but common sense needs to win the day or we're all just puppets of "the man."

More on the fence issue next week, I hope ...

Nothing more to add today. It's been overcast and a little misty on the Hill the last few days.

Again, we wish all of you the greetings of the season!

Michael

Bricks O' Plenty

2007-04-01T19:41:00.002-07:00

I took Friday off from the day job in order to catch up on my writing. Leia thought it would be a great opportunity to invite our landscape architect over to spend more time exploring our villa and surrounds as her first visit was somewhat rushed.

The LA arrived about forty minutes late thanks to a fire in the Universal City area. She happened to be on the 134 at the time and because traffic was moving so slow, she was able to capture a number of spectacular pictures of the smoke and related action. At least she got there, though, since it's unlikely I'm going to take time off in the future just to meet with her. Leia's the design queen in our house and I defer to her tastes (though she seems to like to get my input).

After touring the interior to see what our view looks like from inside, we walked her outside. She shared with us her ideas for sectioning off part of the hardscape with flagstone to make a sitting area (which would be located just outside our bedroom). Leia's priority for that space is to make sure she can stow and retrieve her teak lounger she's planning on purchasing. I don't know, but I think the LA was a bit flummoxed about that because she conceived a water feature made from three pots in the area Leia reserved.

Then we talked colors … the LA suggested many people decided on the house exterior color first, then talk about the concrete color to complement it. However, we decided to do it the reverse way because there are fewer concrete color choices, which would then help us narrow down the paint colors for the house's exterior.

The good news is we found the right color for the concrete that goes with the roof and the brick (Sandstone from Davis Stone is our choice).

Ah yes, the brick …

It seems that the LA really doesn't like brick very much and I think she's disappointed we want to incorporate that look into the future design. Leia was a little concerned that she still seems to be resisting our choice to stay with the brick, but I reminded Leia that we are the customer and her job is to make us happy.

The situation: we have brick EVERYWHERE … inside and outside and all around the place. Brick is the look that the original builder had and one of the features we particularly liked. What the landscape architect comes up with the work with our space, I don't know, but I hope the issue of the brick doesn't keep cropping up.

It seems more and more unlikely we're going to start this project until the fall. We just have too much going on travel-wise to contend with that, too. Leia and I are still procrastinating making our plane trips. Personally, that's one thing I hate doing and wish I had a personal assistant handling it.

Nothing much more to report up on the Hill. The deer continue to visit the villa and we see and hear the red-tailed hawks a lot with the weather warming up. The gardeners have started clearing some of the dead brush in time for the spring clean-up mandated by the local fire department.

We're still getting warm days and chilly nights with the occasional rainfall. Our flowers seem to flourish in this climate. There's been quite an explosion of color in the last month and our lemon tree can't seem to produce enough fruit.

In case you haven't figured it out, I love it here …

So, from our Villa to yours (and beyond), this is Michael, the would-be author and screenwriter, signing off for now.

Bali, Hi; Bali, Bye

2007-03-25T09:31:00.002-07:00

We had decided on the Bali theme for our backyard remodel, so Leia organized her photo collection (made from online pictures she's captured for the last several months) and prepared a CD for our landscape architect.

The good news is the LA appreciated all the hard work Leia put in and really felt she understood what we were going for. The bad news is that our mid-century modern house uses brick on the outside (and inside) and does not work with the Balinese design.

Leia wasn't happy to hear that, but resigned herself to the fact that we would have to retool here. The other issue we would have to contend with is the schedule and whether or not we can start this project in earnest now or wait until September.

The challenge: we have to go to the Midwest in July and then on our Mexican cruise in August. We want to be in town while the construction is going on (call us masochists), so September now looks like a better time. The bummer about that is we were hoping my parents would come out this year and deferred their visit until the fall so as not to conflict with the construction.

That, my friends, is irony.

Meanwhile, our gardeners have basically finished the removal of the plant material at the rear of the house. Leia will now be directing them to projects in front since there isn't much to do back there now.

Yesterday, I went back to check out the sprinkler situation. Apparently, the gardeners changed the way the sprinklers were pointing during their work and the stream was flooding the cabana. After experimenting some, I decided just to turn off that zone and instead, manually water the tree.

Flowers continue to bloom a-plenty on the hill, painting the front yard in bright reads and yellows. Our lemon tree is bearing fruit (again) … we have a bountiful harvest going on right now. In fact, I need to making another picking round later today.

Leia's deer friends finally made an appearance the other day, the first one in several weeks. It may have been they took shelter during all the rain we were having, but then came out the one day is was unseasonably warm. We have a love/hate relationship with our four-legged neighbors. They're beautiful to watch, but destructive in our garden. I hope our LA can help us figure that problem out.

Okay, that's all from the Villa on the Hilla. For those of you who have written, I want to thank you and wish everyone who reads this blog well.

Michael

Anything Worth Having is Worth Waiting For

2007-03-18T15:25:00.001-07:00

It seems like I've been talking about this construction project forever. That's pretty much status quo as production projects go, at least for us. We spend a huge amount of time up front with the interviewing and planning phases, then when we go into the actual construction phase, we hope and pray all of our up front work will have paid off.

It never works out that way, ever.

Why not? Well, quite simply, it's because contractors and subcontractors are, by and large, poor business people. They either over-commit themselves and their resources, spreading themselves way too thin. In the end, they have to make hard choices as far as who gets service and who doesn't (which means, who has the ability to give them more business in the future or perhaps who's paying them the most money now). In the end, their business model is designed - unintentional, I hope - to disappoint the lowest clients on the food chain.

However, as everyone knows, hope springs eternal. We have been pleased with our landscape architect so far, though the first subcontractor she sent out - the surveyor to measure our property for the design - didn't show up the day they were supposed to. Just didn't show up … no call, no nothing. Lovely.

They did come the next day and our LA emailed Leia to apologize for their faux pas. Okay, we'll let this one slide. Let's hope that's not an early indicator of failures to come. By now, I had hoped we would've already broken ground and had been a week or so into the project. We're now up against the clock in a way … we have to go out of town mid-July (me on business, then with Leia to visit her folks). After that, we'll be going to New Orleans to join our extended family on a Mexican cruise (sometime in mid-August).

Right now, we still don't have a proposal in hand from the builder that the LA works closely with. We still have the other two proposals in hand - both of those builders are flakes in their own way and I would prefer we have nothing to do with them. Then again, I hate to have everything riding on this third outfit.

Decisions, decisions … can't avoid 'em, can we?

Meanwhile, the gardeners have almost finished removing all the old plant material from the back area in preparation for the razing to come.

Leia has been organizing all her pictures to share with the LA. The internet provides such an easy facility to do this kind of thing (she uses an online photo storage service and just shares the site with the LA). She has decided that Bali style is the way to go with the construction and of course, I'm on board. At this point, I just want to see a mess being made!

Besides that, the Hill has been very quiet this week. Our temperatures continue to go from hot days to moderate days, back and forth. Today is one of the latter, which is fine with me. I don't like it TOO hot nor too cold.

That's all from here. I have a lot of writing / editing to do today to get where I want to be for the week. Have a great one!

Michael

Spring on the Hill

2007-03-11T16:55:00.001-07:00

Contractor Woes

So, here's the deal. We have a large scale (and large budgeted) construction contract we want to start. Leia went through the work of finding qualified contractors to solicit bids. Here's how it went with them thus far.

Contractor #1 came to us and seemed almost desperate for our business. He's fairly new in the pool construction game and seemed to understand what we were looking for. He brought a lot of pictures of his previous projects and seemed to have the talent we were looking for. He was quick with an initial quote and it was about where we expected, so we were impressed all around. More on that in a moment.

Contractor #2 has many more years in the business and his experience showed. He also seemed to understand exactly what we were going for and even though he ended up having to leave quickly because his crew had broken a water main at one of the other project sites (which is our first clue of issues), we waited expectantly for the proposal.

Contractor #3 hasn't come to take the measurements yet, but that's okay, we did sign a contract with a landscape architect (call her Mary) attached to that company. Mary is doing the design for the construction, so no matter which pool contractor we go with, she will be on the project. We'll get their proposal next week for the pool part.

Contractor #1 kept calling us, asking what we were going to be doing. With him, we asked to see some of his projects first hand and to talk to some of his other clients. We asked him to broker the meeting since we didn't want to just show up and announce ourselves. After all, people have pools behind locked gates for a reason! He assured us he would set it up, but we didn't hear from him for a couple of days. We called him back; he assured us again; again, nothing happened. He's called twice since Friday and I haven't returned his call. We've concluded he's a flake and we don't want to deal with him.

Meanwhile, Contractor #2 blew off the first meeting to go over the proposal with Leia. We tried again and this time he showed up with his partner, though he had no excuse / explanation for blowing off the meeting. They weren't ready with the proposal then - the partner had to eyeball it this time - and then they arranged to come back to present the proposal. They did come back this time, but insisted on talking to me about the proposal even though Leia is the project manager. Well, I don't take kindly to sexist males and neither does Leia. They haven't called back since their last visit and we haven't called them either.

So, what do we have through all this so far? First, we have a contracted landscape architect. Second, we have two proposals for comparison, even though it's unlikely we're going to do anything with either one of them until Contractor #3's proposal is way out of line. And finally, we learned that ongoing lesson about many contractors … they make so much money, they don't have to run their business like a professional.

Meanwhile, Spring is springing

We have many new flowers blooming in the front of the house and today we saw our first robin of the season. Today it is very warm and I'm sitting out in the cabana as I write this, my Panama hat perched on my head in the hopes I'll be inspired by the ghost of Hemingway.

The gardeners continue to remove the plant material from the rear of the house in preparation for the work to come. I think they'll have one more large load to remove and we'll almost be ready to break ground.

Okay, that's all from the Villa right now. Leia is making lamb chops tonight, one of my favorite meat dishes. "Michael had a little lamb (with a side of mint jelly)…"

Have a great week!
Michael

The March of the Girl Scouts

2007-03-04T15:13:00.001-08:00

I don't know about you, but the Girl Scouts have invaded my town armed with Samoas, Trefoils and Thin Mints. You can find them everywhere … stumping through the neighborhoods, standing at grocery store exits and God knows where. Next week. I'm sure, the office of the building where I work will host a group of them to sell their evil wares to us unsuspecting office dwellers. In short, we'll be surrounded. And here I am, trying to lose weight and hungry.

Okay, enough of my glib, yet dark, humor. Harumph! I had preordered our cookies a few weeks ago, thinking oh boy, look at me … I'm sure I'll be able to watch as my wife has her fill. Of course, no one in the house - that is, she doesn’t - eat Samoas, those chocolate, caramel and coconut rings of goodness. Sigh …

I case you haven't noticed, I'm over my winter cold and feeling near 100%, thank you very much. Those of you who sent flowers, well, my heart is full.

Car issues all of a sudden … we had an unexpected flat tire one morning, which necessitated replacing the whole set (they were getting a bit, well, aged). And to add insult to injury, the "Check Engine" light came on the dashboard panel this weekend. We've been delaying getting her in for her maintenance visit and this is how she's repaying us.

Speaking of flowers, a major event occurred on this here hill this week. We finally decided on an arborist - not a tree trimmer, mind you, because as everyone knows that such a character is only armed with a chainsaw and an attitude. Nope, our fellow was proud to call himself a licensed arborist. Even though we hadn't decided on him yet, he and his partner called us to let us know they had an opening, a crew and a will to trim - we had a ficus tree that needed major pruning. Who were we to deny them their rightful work on this earth?

Leia called me during the work day with reports of their progress. I cannot relate her exact wording of the thinning that was going on (this is a family blog, after all), but you ladies who where skimpy bikinis in the summer can immediately see what simile she invoked. Naturally, I was intrigued and couldn't wait to see it. She was right; the difference was stark, but aesthetically pleasing.

The arborist, a serious fellow named Scott, told Leia he finally realized that his company was the last ones to have trimmed our tree. It had been growing without grooming for SIX years! Thankfully, we didn't wait any longer because a good wind would've snapped a branch and probably destroyed the cabana underneath.

Meanwhile, our trust gardeners have been dutifully removing other extraneous green matter from the rear of our pool. This weekend, Leia hosed down the side of the cabana from years of accumulated sap that the ficus donated. I, on the other hand, removed all the ground lighting and white Christmas lights from the surrounding fence. In a couple more weeks, all the old flowers and shrubs will be a distant memory and ready for the redesign.

If you're wondering, no, we haven't hired a contractor yet. We're at a point where we're pretty sure who we're going with, but first we want to see at least a couple of his pools first hand before we go forward. Meanwhile, we're trying to finish engaging the landscape architect that Leia just loves and then, she'll be trying to pull the whole thing together. With any luck, these vendors won't lose patience with us … Leia hasn't been breaking any records getting back to them or anything.

That's all the news that is news here at the Villa of love. May your villas be filled with flowers, cookies and other good things.

Until next time,
Michael

Under the Weather

2007-02-25T19:49:00.001-08:00

This week's blog entry will be short and sweet. Usually able to avoid them, I caught a cold and I'm going through periods of being too tired to keep my head up to write. Suffice it to say, because I'm rarely ill (knock on wood), I'm assuming this is normal.

The Pool Guys

Okay, we're heading for touchdown now (finally). We have one more proposal to entertain from a pool contractor and then we'll be able to make a decision. I'm looking forward to getting this job underway now that we've been talking about it since the beginning of the year.

We expect the construction to impact us for 8-10 weeks, though we're hoping for less. If all works out, they'll be starting soon and the job will be finished before I have to go to Chicago on business in early May.

Parental Guidance

We had invited my folks out here to visit in April to celebrate my dad's birthday, but with the construction and all, they thought it would be better to defer the trip until after the work is completed. Even though it would be great to have them out here, it's probably better that they aren't around and having to deal with the headaches of pool remodeling when they're here.

Okay, that's all, I'm fading fast. Hopefully, by this time next week, I'll have a project plan to report!

May you avoid winter viruses in your town,
Michael

Summer-like In The Foothills

2007-02-18T11:25:00.001-08:00

I feel really bad for you poor folks stuck in places where King Winter reigns supreme for so many months out of the year. I'm not being condescending here, either. After all, I grew up in the Hudson Valley in New York and went to college at Oswego, home to many, many feet of snow. I lived that hell and it was certainly one of the main reasons I moved out to the west coast in 1986.

This week was beautiful up here, both in the weather and the overall view. I'm fortunate enough to have a four day weekend, too (one day courtesy of my employer, the other courtesy of well-earned vacation time). But I am so totally enjoying our house and despite the mortgage, property taxes and overall cost of running our little piece of heaven, I absolutely love it.

The Big Plan

Forgive me if I've mentioned this in previous blog posts - keeping so many different blogs (this one the longest now), I sort of lose track and I'm too lazy to reread my musings.

My goal is to retire at fifty-five, a mere seven years from now. We'll then sell the villa and move to Palm Springs where I hope to be able to write for the rest of my days (or until Alzheimer's comes, whichever is first).

So, naturally, we want to make the villa quite salable over the time period and will have to spend quite a bit of capital to do that. In the end, though, I think it will be a great investment of our time, effort and resources.

Remodeling Job

Leia met this week with one or two landscape architects and pool / hardscape / driveway remodelers, none of whom caught her fancy for one reason or the other. Yesterday, though, we met with two separate contractors who seem to be quite a bit more reasonable, both in price and in attitude. The best part, they're both ready to go right now, so we won't have to wait.

Some of the things we need to do: resurface the pool (including adding a pebble finish); redoing the driveway and hardscape in colored and/or stamped concrete; building in a barbeque; creating a small additional sitting area outside our bedroom; buying new pool equipment - pump and heater -and relocating it to the side of the house, giving us our second car space back in the garage. We've also talked about building in a fire pit (optional) and a Baja cover (optional).

This will be the first of probably three extensive remodels of the villa - the other two include the kitchen and the master bathroom. We'll probably do one next year and the other the year after that. Everything else will be just small stuff to do throughout the remainder of our time here.

Hopefully, in the near future, I'll be able to report that we've started the job and then have a lot of interesting tales of the process. Look for 8-10 weeks of fun then!

So, until next time, may your villa, wherever it is - even snowbound - provide you with as much enjoyment as ours does for us.

Michael

Taxes, We Don't Need No Stinkin' Taxes!

2007-02-11T21:35:00.001-08:00

Yes, it's that time of year again. One of my biggest soapbox topics and now I get to report on it from the Hill.

Dear God, Why?

Income taxes and not just the fact that government believes they have almost exclusive rights to all our revenue. This latter issue I'll save for another time and place.

It's the whole income tax process itself that annoys me the most. It's all so bloody complicated for the average Joe or Jane and really doesn't need to be. The tax code as it exists now is a prime example how government fails its citizens.

So much of the tax code is just a waste of paper, not to mention all the time and money spent to create it. It's a product of years and years of stupid, antiquated decisions and its secondary purpose is to keep employed thousands of CPAs and tax attorneys. The language is arcane, the rules and regulations are arbitrary, confusing and often contradictory.

Whenever some Administration claims they will simplify the tax code, it makes me cringe. Why? Because simplification and government never appear in the same paragraph except in some stupid political speech. In the real world, 80% of government is waste and 80% of the tax code is exactly the same.

If someone wants my political (and even financial) backing for the long haul, make serious proposals to overhaul the tax code. Remove huge sections, streamline others, eliminate and/or consolidate all the forms.

No one should have to spend more than an hour per month organizing their records and it shouldn't take more than two hours to prepare a long form. That's just the way I see it.

It will never happen

Meanwhile, On the Hill …

Not a lot to report up here. We're still meeting with pool and landscape designers. We're also trying to decide on pavers or colored cement in the hardscape as well as in the driveway - and decide how to merge the two so the whole concept works.

We haven't don't anything about the tree trimming, mostly because I have pushed the issue. Similarly, the heating/cooling contractor to help insulate our attic ductwork. When it comes to these kinds of things, I admit I can procrastinate with the best of them (though if I took a week off from work, I'd make sure it all got done).

Our beagle mutt has been spending most of the winter in the house, thanks to the below average temperatures in our neck of the woods. She's only relegated to wherever her bed is set up … she doesn't have the run of the place (yet). Give her time, though.

The garage is getting organized - slowly - as I have been diligent about recycling all the empty boxes and other cardboard detritus around the place. This has made room to relocate a lot of other junk that came back from storage (which will then be joined by its brethren some day).

Speaking of storage, yes, stuff still sits in the same storage place thirty miles away from here. Leia has not made any moves to get the stuff relocated to our general area and to be honest, I haven't been pushing the issue either. One thing I hate is dealing with storage stuff. It's worth the money to me to keep it out of our garage, but Leia (forever squeezing the proverbial nickel until Jefferson winces) wants to get that cash back into the household.

Oh, about the Super Bowl …

How about them Colts, folks? To you Bears fans, sorry, you need a new quarterback. Invest wisely.

Until next time, may all your taxes be minor and your refunds be huge!

Michael

Why I Don't Play Golf (and other excuses)

2007-02-04T11:42:00.001-08:00

There was a time in my life when I decided to learn how to play golf. I don't recall was it was that exactly got me interested in even starting in the first place. Looking back, it was probably at the urging of friends who were also interested in picking up the game.

I recall going to Big 5 Sporting Goods and picking up a starter set of clubs for cheap. I figured if I was going to learn, I wouldn't invest in expensive clubs like so many other neophytes do. My logic was that if I found I that I had some natural talent at the game or at least liked it enough, I would then look at spending the big bucks for good equipment.

What I discovered: I had a big, strong swing, but was lucky if I could consistently hit it straight. My early successes on the nine hole "executive" courses only further encouraged me to play and improve. Improve I did, by God!

In fact, I was only playing for six months when I made my first hole-in-one … a 100 yard loft I hit with a pitching wedge. I couldn't believe what a great shot it was, too - straight up in the air, landed just behind the hole which was at the front of the green at the bottom of a small dip. The ball hit the green and with the backspin it had, it bit into the grass and came forward, falling right into the cup. Sweet!

During the first year of my playing, I was on the course, driving range or putting green playing every weekend and sometimes during the week. I really was enjoying myself, but was always trying to get better. At some point, I had enough friends tell me that I could go much further in my game if I took lessons.

Well, I finally listened to them and that was the end of my golf game. By the end of the 10th private lesson I had with the golf pro, I had a beautiful looking swing. As I tell people, I could've made the cover of Golf Digest with that swing. However, I could no longer hit the ball long and far and after a while in this new and improved stance / swing, I could no longer hit the ball straight, either.

What my ex-brother-in-law (Tom, also my former golf partner) insists on is that it wasn't the lessons that messed me up, but the custom clubs I was now using, thanks to the suggestion of the golf pro. Unlike that high end clubs that are both easy to swing, drive far and are very forgiving, these clubs were none of those things.

Whatever it was, folks, it wasn't good. I remember the day I quit like it was yesterday. Tom and I were out on some 18 hole course down by where he lived. The first four or five holes, I was hitting okay - just keeping up with the rest of the foursome, really. It was around the sixth hole when I start hitting errant shot after errant shot. It was a train wreck! After a while, I was picking up the ball after five stabs at it and stopped scoring myself.

After the 18th hole, I quit playing and never went back out again. To this day, Tom whines about me quitting (we talked about retiring early and playing golf together into our old age), but I refuse to go back on the course again. He still plays, though - just as avidly as we both were almost 10 years ago when we started.

Super Bowl Sunday Is Tax Sunday

A tradition I started a few years ago was to do my initial preparation for my income taxes on Super Bowl Sunday. I sort out all the 1098s, 1099s and deductions, then enter the information into a spreadsheet I created for this purpose. At some point during the subsequent week, I enter all the data into Turbo Tax to see what my initial position is. All of this is done in preparation for my meeting with our accountant at the end of the month.

Not only is Super Bowl Sunday also Tax Sunday, it's also eating Sunday. It's no secret that I'm on a mission to lose a lot of weight by our family reunion cruise in August of this year. In fact, I'm blogging about that in a separate vehicle (http://biggestloserla.blogspot.com/ if you're interested). But now I have the added distraction of watching my snack consumption today. I know, I'm only doing to myself, right?

Progress on the Hill

This week, Leia's meet with a pool designer and another contractor to go over ideas for the backyard. So far, I've heard a number of interesting ideas - for example, pull the pump and heater out of the garage and install a new style version of each on the side of the house. That will free up our garage so we can pull our car into it.

Besides that, there's nothing much else worth mentioning progress-wise. We've done nothing about the copper issue. I think Leia is hoping I forget about it.

So, to all you Colts fans, right on - and to all you Bears fans, sorry about your loss :-)

From our tax deduction to yours,
Michael

They Call It Bossa Nova

2007-01-28T12:10:00.001-08:00

I admit, I have very eclectic tastes in music. For years, I was stuck in the "classic rock" mentality, mostly concentrating on the music of the 1960's and early 1970's. When I was in my late 20's, I started listening to classical music, including opera. That was followed by my jazz period, particularly swing, dixieland and early bop.

I kept up with the current music, too - New Wave, punk, grunge, alternative and whatever they call what followed that, at least until it seemed music stopped having much of a direction (save for hip-hop).

Somewhere in the middle of all that, though, I started developing a taste for Latin rhythms. I mostly concentrated on the mambo and samba, but I really focused the most on bossa nova. My interest was even more elevated when Leia and I talked for a time about buying a second home in Brazil. While nothing came of that, my love for the bossa nova lived on.

After listening to several bossa nova songs on my iPod the other day, I decided to do some research on same of the artists who recorded that music. Lo and behold, I learned all about one of the fathers of the bossa nova, Tom Jobim. A native of Brasil, Tom (his nickname) wrote or co-wrote some of the most recognizable bossa nova songs in the world - Wave, The Girl from Ipanema and Desafinado to name just a few.

Thanks to YouTube, I was able to see Tom perform several of his wonderful pieces as well as performances by those most notable for recording his music. Sadly, Tom died in 1994, but not before leaving a large body of music and a legacy of creating one of the most stirring Latin rhythms ever, the bossa nova.

Life on the Hill is wonderful, as always. The winter has been rather cold as I've noted in past posts and I think in the foothills, it's a bit colder than in our former haunts in the South Bay. It's a good kind of cold, though - bracing, but nothing a good sweater (or a good fire) can't cure.

Leia has been entertaining bids from pool designers as of late. We hope to have the pool and hardscape remodeled before the weather warms up to use the pool. I hope that we'll also install our gas grill for barbecues ... we love our grilled meat.

We continue to be enchanted by the menagerie of wild critters that visit our mini-estate - deer, coyotes, foxes, rabbits, squirrels, raccoons and birds of all kinds can be seen here from time to time. And even though it's been rainy (or at least overcast) here this weekend, we know we're not alone.

Nothing else new to report from the Villa. When we start the construction in the back of the house, there will be plenty to write about, no doubt. So, until next week, be well!

Michael

Your Precious Health

2007-01-20T22:20:00.001-08:00

Back in 1996, at the ripe not so old age of 37, I had a stroke. How's that for an introductory sentence, Mrs. Pettigrew (my 9th grade English teacher)? Hook 'em right at the start and don't let go, no matter what!

I'm not going to relay all the details here - I actually wrote up a fairly detailed description of all the events that preceded my stroke in 1997 for my new doctor. Some day, I'm going to retype it and perhaps post it here or somewhere else … or use it as material for some work of fiction, I don't know. Suffice it to say, I was too young to have a stroke and it was totally preventable. One of the many follies of youth, as you know, is that they believe they will live forever. Prior to my little "neurological incident," I think I was of the same mind.

Thank God there were no major side effects, though to this day, my left side is numb. The only time it bothers me is when I think about it - like now, as I'm writing this - or when I try to play my guitar. Back in the day, I was a pretty good picker (in fact, some said I was very good). Unfortunately, even though I can still play moderately well and still remember all the chords and such, my hand isn't comfortable playing for too long. The steel strings cut into the fingertips such that it just doesn't feel "right."

So, as I approach my 48th birthday, I recall with some concern my past health problems and what I did, at least in the initial years, to address them and prevent a second stroke (or worse). But as time progressed since that event, I got lazy again … gained too much wait, ate food that was too salty or fatty, drank a bit more than I should. Voila, gained all that weight back and here I sit today at least 55 pounds overweight.

The only difference between 1996 and 2007 is that I'm on high blood pressure meds. That's certainly not a licenses to gorge oneself as I tend to do, but I do that nonetheless. So, with a family reunion cruise coming this August and me so fat these days, I've put it into my head to get fit and get healthy in time for bathing suit time in front of folks I haven't seen for years.

So, with trepidation I saw the doctor for my every 5 year check-up. Now, you may ask why I don't go more often because of my past health problems. If you're interested in finding this out or reading about my adventures in weight loss, you can read about them in my blog at http://biggestloserla.blogspot.com/. Don't forget to leave a comment, if you feel so compelled.

Back up on the Hill, not much has been happening of note, at least as far as home improvement issues go. We haven't decided on what to do about the copper issues in the water yet. I'm leaving that to Leia who is not in any hurry to pull the trigger on adding the filtering unit to the water. At some point, I'll have to push the issue since I really don't like high levels of copper in water I sometimes drink.

Leia has been looking at pool installers again, but I'm not expecting anything major on this front for quite a while. Hell, we still have our ficus tree that still needs to be trimmed! Somewhere along the way, the inside of the house remodeling will trump the concentration on the outside … until the inside becomes overwhelming, then the outside will take precedence … and so on. I'll just stand back and wait for the pendulum to find its center, then we'll have something to decide.

I DO know that the bathrooms need painting, but to be honest, I have no desire to do them myself. My assistant at work found a handyman "chain" and she's going to be trying them out to fix a hole in her wall at her house. If they work out, then I may call them to start taking care of these "little" jobs that I hate doing, like painting.

And so, I close this blog this evening, Saturday, January 20, 2007 … I'm looking out the windows across from my study and see the lights of the houses in the Verdugo Mountains in the distance … and I smile. I love this Villa!

Peace to your homes as well,
Michael

Back on the Bus

2007-01-14T18:23:00.001-08:00

Okay, I know I promised no more "Tales from LA Commuting," but I guess my only explanation is that I lied. Heck, there's more material in a 40 minute commute than in an entire day in my mundane office job. Okay, I lied again … my office job isn't "mundane," it's just not something I really saw myself doing when I graduated from college and I definitely don't see myself doing it past the age of 55 (that's in seven years, folks!).

Oh, but I digress …

For the three week period surrounding Christmas and New Year's, I only had to take mass transportation on the way home. To the office, the kids were out of school, a lot of people were on vacation and if you're in Los Angeles, you know what that means - much less traffic.

Driving into downtown with my lovely wife was the highlight of my morning. The drive took twenty minutes at most. I didn't have to leave my house at 7:00 to arrive in my office by 8:00 - if I was lucky. Instead, I could have a leisurely breakfast, maybe run through Burger King for a coffee (they have excellent coffee nowadays, you know) and still arrive at the office ten minutes earlier than usual.

But, as predictable as winter snow in Colorado, the traffic returned and the morning zip became the post-dawn crawl. I only have so much patience for bad drivers (who am I kidding -- I mean OTHER bad drivers) and since I cannot allow myself to be chauffeured to work by my spouse, I am back to taking the morning bus again.

The good news - I just got an iPod Nano. It's now filled to the brim with great music, podcasts and audiobooks. I'm all set, right?

Unfortunately, the bad news is I have to share my commute with other people. Oh boy, how fun.

Here's my pet peeve of the month: people who insist on sitting in the aisle seat, leaving the window seat empty. Now, I'm not heartless … people may get motion sickness if they're near the window or they need the extra leg room that the aisle seat gives them. I'm talking about the selfish twits that try to dissuade other riders from getting a seat period. These knuckleheads do everything they can to make it hard for people to share the seat with them. They pretend to be asleep or sprawl out all their personal effects into the empty spot or just refuse to make eye contact with those who just got on and need to sit down quickly.

I've watched people have to crawl over other people to get to the window seat because (a) they wouldn't move over or (b) they wouldn't stand up to let them in. Mind you that these aren't luxury first class seats to start with. Think of coach, then shrink it down to munchkin size. That's the seat room on the Commuter Express buses. What makes it more interesting … the seats in front of you can fold down, just like on an airplane.

So, here I am commuting with the inconsiderates of the world … those who push in front of you when you're standing in line included. It makes me want to take an early retirement. Hey, what a great idea!

I can't end my pre-report without mentioning the winter-like temperatures here in the foothills. My gosh, it was just below freezing the other day! I'm running out of coats I can use to layer (and even my natural insulation hasn't helped keep me warm). I really did move to the west coast to avoid winters, so what they heck is going on? More importantly, where is this global warming everyone keeps talking about?

Activity on the Villa has been minimal this week. We got the final word on the copper content of our water. It is confirmed … the levels are higher than the recommended maximum. We either have to add a filtering unit to cleanse it or live with it. I'm not much for heavy metals in our drinking water. However, my ever nickel-squeezing wife is loath to spend the $600 to fix the problem.

One thing we agree on … we need to get a hold of the repipe people to see if they're going to give us any relief since the excess copper must be a result of their work. I think it will be hard to prove, though, but it's worth a shot.

Meanwhile, we still haven't addressed the relocation of our stored goods to a more local facility. Now that we don't have to travel back east anymore, I suspect that we'll be taking care of this soon.

Leia has been going through online real estate pictures and looking at the various pool designs. We still keep wavering between doing the kitchen first v. the pool and hardscape (actually, when I say "we," I mean "her" … frankly, I don't care).

Don't forget to check out my writing blog: www.thewriterslance.blogspot.com and my MySpace page www.myspace.com/socalvillaguy.

From our Villa in chilly Southern California to yours,
Michael

Global Warming?

2007-01-07T09:24:00.001-08:00

Okay, who turned the world upside down?

The east coast has temperatures in the 70's while we poor schmucks on the west coast are nowhere near as balmy. In fact, as I write this, the heat is on in the villa, which currently sits at a near-comfortable 67 degrees F.

Lovely.

This week, we've see near hurricane force winds in So Cal. I recently read that a large part of the Arctic Shelf split away from the rest of the ice formation and is now adrift somewhere in the Arctic Sea.

What the -?

Last year, we had a record number of hurricanes in one season and they were predicting the same thing this year. And what happened? Barely any hurricanes or even tropical storms made landfall. Not that I'm complaining about that, mind you. But one of the reasons we abandoned our plan to buy a vacation spot in Eleuthera was because of the violent hurricane cycle the weather experts said we're in now.

Anyone who says that there is no such thing as global warming also believes the earth is flat. WHY the earth is warming as quickly as it is, of course, is up for intelligent debate. I'm of the school that believes there are many contributing factors - including our polluting of this earth with greenhouse gases. I'm not a green-freak or peacenik or anything like that. I just believe that we cannot dismiss science simply because it doesn't fit within our philosophy (my dear Horatio).

Look at the Catholic Church - while every legitimate scientist states emphatically that earth is millions (or even billions) of years old, that dinosaurs precedent man by millions of years and the cosmos themselves are even older than all that - this same church still avers that the earth is only thousands of years old, that men and dinosaurs walked the earth together and that God created the universe in SEVEN earth days.

Doesn't anyone believe in allegories anymore?

I returned to the church again, but that doesn't mean I can suspend disbelief in the scientific proofs that have been confirmed over the years. Science and religion DO NOT have to be at odds with one another. In my own philosophy, I can easily accept the Big Bang theory and everything else that evolved (yes EVOLVED) from it. That doesn't necessarily mean a Grand Architect wasn't at the helm of this whole thing, does it?

So, in honor of the Creator and those Masters of Scientific thought, I ask where do we (the Earth, that is) go from here? Are the effects of global warming that we see today going to escalate at frightening rates? Are we going to be known as the generation that killed us all?

Stayed tuned, friends, there's plenty of interesting things afoot …

The Villa has been quiet for most of the week, save for the aforementioned strong wind gusts. More leaves in the pool, more clogging with the Roomba (as I call the pool vac) … just a normal week that was.

We're still waiting for ALL the results of the copper tests. After my call to the water treatment folks, we found that this much: that there isn't copper in the city water coming into our supply. Hopefully, we'll find out the rest of the story early next week.

We took down the Christmas decorations this week. Leia spent part of her days sorting through decorations, separating useless stuff with keepers, then packed the latter away safely for next year.

Our legal "tussle" is now almost behind us, we'll be taking on the relocation of our single remaining storage area. Our theory is that if we get the junk closer to us, we'll be able to spend more time sorting through it than driving to get to the place where the stuff is. We'll see.

I suspect that the remodeling chores will pick up again soon. Meanwhile, my writing has been busy (http://www.thewriterslance.blogspot.com) and I now am spending much more time developing my MySpace account (http://www.myspace.com/socalvillaguy). Hope to see you there sometime!

From our villa to yours,

Michael

Ill Winds (redux)

2006-12-31T11:46:00.001-08:00

In my last post, I related Leia's experience with a wild wind that blew from out of nowhere on our hill and raised some minor havoc in our backyard. This week, the ill winds returned, bringing with them their gift of blown leaves and twigs into our pool. Our poor little pool vac - a sort of Roomba, connected to a hose and sweeps across the entire pool and keeping it clean - was just unable to handle the delivery of all those leaves. As a result, it kept getting clogged up and required one of us to pull it out of the water and dislodge what was blocking it.

The thought of "ill winds" reminded me of something a acupuncturist said to me over ten years ago. You see, in 1996 close to my 37th birthday, I suffered from what can only be described as a "neurological incident" which most closely resembled a stroke. I was overweight, drinking more than I should and not taking care of myself at all (including, of course, no exercise). What started out to be flu-like symptoms ended up where I was unable to swallow and became numb along the entire left side of my body.

MRIs turned up nothing nor did either neurologist find anything else in the diagnostics that were done. Whatever it was did not leave its calling card, but the results were just the same. I eventually learned how to swallow again, but to this day, I still have some reduced feeling on my left side. The only thing conclusive they found was my blood pressure needed to be controlled by medication and I was also obliged to take an aspirin every day to keep my blood thinner.

At the time this all happened, I went to a chiropractor (no help) and then went to an acupuncturist at the recommendation of a friend. The doctor - he was a doctor of eastern medicine - was a Caucasian guy who actually went to China to study acupuncture. His office was in Beverly Hills, but very unassuming. After explaining what happened to me, he thought that I was suffering from negative effects of "ill winds" and went about treating me with that in mind. He also told me that he would know in about 10 sessions whether or not acupuncture was going to work for me. True to his word, at the 10th session, he told me he couldn't help me - that I really didn't react much at all to the acupuncture. That's the way it is with some people, I guess.

Well, as we enter 2007, I once again find myself quite overweight and probably not in the best of shape (or health). Besides having to go to the doctor for a checkup on 1/15 - because he won't refill my prescriptions anymore until he sees me - I decided to participate in a competition at work to see who can lose the most weight percentage-wise in 12 weeks. Our first weigh-in is on 1/8. Wish me luck!

To all of you who read my blog, I wish you and your family all the best in the New Year. May it be better than the last in so many ways. If God is merciful, our troops will begin to return from Iraq and our better balanced government will actually start to work together instead of against each other for our best interests.

Pray for peace.

Michael

Wild Wind

2006-12-24T09:50:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas to all!

Yes, I'm using the shockingly politically insensitive "Merry Christmas" greeting - because it's my blog and I can write what I want! For those of you who don't live in Southern California or work in a corporate environment, you don't understand how uncomfortable you're made to feel if you wish someone a Merry Christmas. Someone may be Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, etc. and instead of taking the greeting in the spirit it is given, the PC faction frowns at the mere religious overtones of the term.

In a world where a public bus driver has to fight to keep wearing his Santa cap through the holidays, I'm starting to rankle at the slightest nod to political correctness. For years, I was happy to use "Happy Holidays" as the generic greeting that wouldn't offend people. Recently I started thinking ... how can people be offended by the use of the word "Merry" in front of anything??? The semantics police should be arrested and summarily executed, don't you think?

OK, so that's not a very Christmasy thing to write ... but you get my point. PC should only mean "personal computer." Like Scrooge, I say "bah" - but not to Christmas, but to Christmas haters. Sorry if the world isn't sufficiently homogenized for you knuckleheads.

There ... I got that out of my system ...

Nothing much happened on the Hill this week. The only real noteworthy event occurred when I was at the office. Leia told me that out of nowhere, a huge mini-cyclone came up out of nowhere and real blew right around our yard. She said the ficus tree bent so far over that she thought it was going to come out by its roots! Of course, most of the leaves that didn't fall yet dropped into the pool and around the hardscape. I spent the better part of yesterday afternoon skimming them out of the water and sucking them up with our wet/dry vac. Still, I wouldn't trade living here for anywhere else I've been in Southern California. The mountains are now snowcapped and there's enough of a nip in the air now to be pleasant (at least most of the time).

We're doing nothing special for the holiday. Going out to dinner to our traditional Christmas Eve restaurant after mass. Tomorrow, Leia will be serving homemade lasagna and baked pork chops. We don't get each other gifts, so we'll only be opening the one we already got from my parents. And maybe we'll go out and see The Holiday at the theater, too.

From our Villa to yours, wish all of you all the joy of the Christmas Season ... no offense :-)

Michael.

PS. I moved my blog on my writing life from Bloglines to Blogger.com. The new web address is http://thewriterslance.blogspot.com.

Pushing the Rock

2006-12-16T21:05:00.001-08:00

From Wikipedia: "As a punishment from the gods for his trickery, Sisyphus was compelled to roll a huge rock up a steep hill, but before he reached the top of the hill, the rock always escaped him and he had to begin again (Odyssey, xi. 593). "

So with that introduction, let me tell you my own Sisphyian story. I was on the back deck today, replacing some bulbs in one of the fixtures out there. Being a thorough kind of fellow, I decided to clean the glass lenses on the matching fixtures even though I had no need to replace the bulb. That's when things went horribly wrong.

One of the fixture nuts that was being used to anchor down the fixture slipped from between my fingers ad I fought to remove it from the set-in screw. The nut, a roundish affair, bounced on the concrete below me and just as Murphy orchestrated it, the metal widget hopped into the pool. I lost track of its movement, my attention occupied by the detached light fixture I held in my hand.

When I finally could get a moment to find Nut, my new archenemy, I was pained to discover that it wasn't in the shallow end of the pool where it fell in. Instead, I was able to locate the thing by following the slope of the pool's surface down to the deepest part. It was just an inch from the drain.

Now you'd think the pool skimmer would be able to pick up that little thing, but of course it doesn't! I spent at least two hours trying to skim that thing out of the pool, but every time I dragged it close enough to reel it in, it would slip out from under the skimmer and tumble down back to the bottom of the deep end.

Finally, I gave up and just put a replacement nut on the screw. It was just the principle of the thing and I'm still thinking of trying it again (this time sticking some plumber's putty at the end of the skimmer handle and ...

We finally purchased a sofa for the Villa - a chocolate brown leather sectional. It gets delivered this Wednesday. It should look really nice in our mid-century modern decor. Leia picked up some drapes which we'll hang this week, too.

No word yet on the copper testing on our water, though I'm sure that's what they will find is in large quantities in our supply.

It's been cold and rainy up on the Hill this weekend. A perfect day for writing (or for football watching).

Speaking of writing, I decided to move my writing blog to blogger.com instead of leaving it on bloglines.com. It can be found at http://thewriterslance.blogspot.com. Please check it out and give me your comments. I'd love to hear from you.

Okay, that's all from here. The Giants already scored a touchdown against Phillie, so I better join the action already in progress.

From our soggy Hill to yours,
Michael.

Texas Hold'Em

2006-12-09T06:43:00.001-08:00

Even though one would consider writing my hobby, I wouldn't. After all, my intent is to make some sort of living out of that activity and right now is the training period to see if I have the talent, discipline and market savvy to receive regular income doing it. However, one thing I know I'll never do professionally is play poker.

Unless you've been living in a cave the last few years, you know that poker has reemerged as the grand dame of the card playing world, at least for gamblers (I love bridge, too, but that game hardly engenders the excitement needed to be featured on ESPN). I was a latecomer to the Texas Hold'Em fan club, but just like all new converts, I jumped in with both feet.

The funny thing about me and gambling (for real money) - I actually don't like it very much. Actually, it's probably more accurate to say I hate losing money gambling and I seem to do it a lot. Nickel/dime ante, I love it - used to play with friends all the time, back in the day (and before Hold'Em became so popular). But give me the opportunity to play at a table with strangers in a setting like you see in any casino in Vegas and I'll opt to do anything else BUT play.

That "phobia" (fear of failure? fear of going broke?) doesn't really conflict with the fact I have a version of Texas Hold'Em on my laptop, Palm Pilot, Blackberry and cell phone. The up side of computer versions of the game is it helps train you a bit on the fundamentals. There is a big down side, though - by not playing with real people, it's difficult to understand how the game REALLY works. Reading other players, their reactions, they betting and playing style … all of this is crucial to becoming really good at this game. Take the people factor out and you really just have another mindless computer game.

For instance, take one of the games I play the most - Poker Superstars - something I indulge myself with on my laptop. Even though you're theoretically playing against known names in the poker world (Howard Lederer, Phil Ivey, Chip Reese, Gus Hanson, Doyle Brunson, Johnnie Chan, T.J. Cloutier), your really just opposing a standard computer model. The writers of the software didn't even both to try to make the style of play different for each player (though I like to believe that they are different just to keep the game interesting). It doesn't take me long to beat these superstars!

On the other hand, the version I run on my Blackberry (a free program by the gang at MagMic), is a harder one to beat - first, because the other players are easily bluffed and second, because when one person is wiped out, another one takes his/her place. I like the kind of tables where I can knock out players until I get into a heads-up match with some hotshot and (hopefully) kick his butt!

The only "real" people I play against - without real money, of course - are those you can fine at PartyPoker.com. I hold my own pretty well against those players, but it's still not like playing against real humans because you can't see them to read them. Nonetheless, it's better than nothing. If you play poker and never played Texas Hold'Em, I strongly recommend you give it a try. It's not only a lot of fun, it isn't too complicated that you can play a lot for fun and really become good at many aspects of the game.

One bet that's a sure thing - it gets a bit nippy up here in the foothills. We're about 1400 feet about sea level here and even though it's not a true mountain, we get mountain-like whether. Temperatures have been in the 40's at night, but as is typical for Southern California, day time temps climb into the 70's and 80's. Still, it's cool enough on the Hill to make it seem Christmasy.

Our neighbors really get into the spirit of the season, I tell you what. Leia and I have been trying to get a little exercise at night by taking a walk around the nearby streets. The holiday decorations aren't lacking in these parts, not by a long shot! A couple of nights ago, we took a different route and came across one house that was greatly festooned in Christmas lights, moving deer and a huge inflatable Snoopy flying his Sopwith Camel (aka, his dog house), obviously in search of his archenemy, the Red Baron.

At the Villa, we started our own decorating and will continue to do so this weekend. We put the tree up last Sunday night and when I got home from work yesterday, I saw that Leia had finished decorating it. It looks absolutely outstanding (picture included). Even though we usually don't get each other gifts during Christmas, I'd love to put some wrapped presents under the tree to add to the ambience.

On the isle of the mundane, we're still awaiting the lab reports about our blue water. We presume it's copper, but we need an official indication from the water treatment people before we can take remedial action with the repiping place.

Speaking of water, we were having a sudden slow draining situation in the master shower, so I took on the task of snaking it out last Sunday. What a mess! Not only did I find a left over drill bit in there, but also encountered what smelled like Drano left over from a previous attempt to clear it (obviously before we moved in). While I succeeded to dislodge a ton of hair, I didn't fix the slow drain. We decided to exercise our home warranty and bring in an expert. At the same time, we decided to report the problem with the powder room toilet (same service call fee).

Well, as it turns out, I was taking a shower on Monday morning with the water quickly rising in the basin when suddenly the clog cleared and the water drained away. The plumber who came later on confirmed that the problem was fixed and we haven't seen a recurrence of the slow drain since. I guess a lot of water needed to run to finish the snaking job I had done.

Meanwhile, back at the powder room, the plumber simply replaced the flap and the toilet tank stopped leaking (and then recycling every hour or so). Slowly, but surely, we're buttoning up all the vulnerabilities in this place. The only thing left to do is to bring in the insulation experts to get the ductwork tightened up. By next summer, I want to be able to run the air conditioning without having to take out a loan!

Good news on the storage front! Last weekend, we were able to merge the remainder of one unit into the original one, thereby eliminating an additional outlay of cash each month and getting us more compact. Leia is trying to find a local storage place where we can transfer our world goods for the purposes of disposal, donation or integration into the limited Villa storage. If you're young and you're reading this, here's my sage advice - avoid getting a storage place for junk you don't use if you can. Once you get one, it's hard to let it go. We all have too much junk and when you marry someone else with too much junk, that's two times too much junk!

So, with that report, I'm outta here. Thank you for indulging my need to chronicle my life events. Comment if you feel so compelled, but whether you do or not, I'll be here reporting from the Villa.

Hope your holiday preparations are stress free!

Michael.

Playing Catch-Up

2006-12-02T08:08:00.002-08:00

Hello, again! I took a brief respite from this blog and have been writing vigorously and at length in my new one which is called "My Life Within The Margins: The life and times of a middle-aged middle manager who has decided to reinvent himself and create a career as a writer." Catchy, isn't it? This new blog will chronicle my writing efforts, clearing this one for all those non-important events that happen up here on our little hill. If you're interested, you can see it at http://www.bloglines.com/blog/thewriterslance.

I received yet another sign I'm getting older. I went to the eye doctor and he confirmed that I needed to get reading glasses. I just received them yesterday and at least for now, I don't need to use them too often. But I know what will happen over time and it's not exactly thrilling for me!

Our little town will be having its annual holiday parade today. A well-known celebrity will be the Grand Marshall, so it will be an interesting event to observe. I'm sure I'll be writing about it at some point here. Hopefully, I'll be able to make it as entertaining as if you were there.

Speaking of the hill, it's been cold (yes, COLD) here the last week. Some mornings, the temperature has been below 40 degrees F, which is pretty chilly for Southern California. Early in the week, we finally broke down and started using the gas fireplaces at night before we went to bed. By Thursday night, we went all out and started the furnace.

Leia and I like it kind of cool, so that's one reason why we we're hesitant to run the heat. In our loft apartment, there wasn't one time we broke down and started the heater. It really was never needed there. When we lived in the South Bay, there would be times that we'd run the heat (and the fireplaces).

The other reason for not running the furnace - the ductwork in the attic is suspect. After seeing our huge electric bills this summer from running the air conditioning all the time (as well as hearing from some various repair people about how cool the attic was), our suspicion is our ventilation system isn't contained. I need to call a heating/cooling guy in here to assess the situation.

On the water side, there are a couple of items to note. First on the list is our leaky pool. We brought in the experts to assess what our pool guy suspected was a major leak due to the low level and a crack in the shallow end. Sure enough, we have a leak in the pool. HOWEVER, the good news is that the crack is at a high enough level to not be a real problem. We were seeing fast water level drops simply because we were overfilling the pool to above the crack and once the level dipped below the hole, it held firm. That means that we can delay the full remodel of the pool and hardscape for now.

The other water situation goes back to our copper repiping. Leia noticed a blue patina staining the shower tiles, almost a sure sign of copper leaching. We called our water experts who confirmed our suspicions. They came out early in the week to take samples for testing. If there is an issue with the copper, we have to go back to the repiping specialists and see what they're going to do (if anything). At least the water people have a treatment that will address this if we need to implement it.

Meanwhile, Leia continues to decorate the place. The whole interior is really coming together. The only thing we're really missing in the way of furniture is a sofa / divan. Right now, we're making do with an Eames lounge and an overstuffed chair and ottoman. The latter has to go, as it's old and to Leia's sensitive nose, smelly.

From our hill to yours,
Michael

Holidays Are Here!

2006-11-19T18:20:00.001-08:00

I finished my first short story (written as an adult anyway) and gave the unedited initial draft to Leia to read and give me her opinion. Meanwhile, I edited two more drafts and now I'm trying to decide whether or not to enter it in a short story contest or pitch it to some magazines.

I'm still trying to get back to my second screenplay outline, but work has been tiring me out a lot lately and when I get home, I'm only motivated to eat dinner and watch hockey. Instead, I picked up where I left off on a second short story and I've unburied my first novel (the one where I already typed 800 pages and had one chapter left when I stopped in 2004). Thankfully, the Muse keeps feeding me and now all I have to do is return the favor and get some sold.

The good news is I finished the detailed outline of my second screenplay. I want to push forward on that, but also the rewrite of script #1. One way or the other, I'm going to sell one of these.

I finally introduced myself to someone a my commuter bus stop the other day. Jose is a mild-mannered fellow and we chatted about bus travel versus driving, other passengers' "customs" and the like. Of course, when we got on the bus, he went to his seat to read and I put on my iPod to listen to my audiobook. At the end of the day, both of us needed to unwind and not deal with people for a while.

Thanksgiving is coming in a few days and in about a month, Christmas / New Year. I love the holidays, I really do. Leia, on the other hand, could really care less, particularly about Christmas. She comes from a small family and Christmas was never really a big deal for them. It's a good sign when she tells me we'll be breaking out our Christmas tree from storage, that's all I have to say.

We still haven't brought up a leak specialist to check out the pool, but I have hope that Leia will arrange that soon. We seem to be losing a lot of water in the thing and knowing our luck, it's causing problems with the foundation. One day we'll wake up with the house pitched partially down the hill Then I will call it quits.

If the pool can't be patched, then we're going to be put the kitchen remodel on hold. I know Leia will be disappointed, but she is frugal (read "cheap") and won't want to redo the pool and hardscape AND the kitchen in the same year.

We had my ex-brother-in-law over for dinner last night. Besides my parents, he's the only guest we've had over to socialize. Leia made pasta, meatballs, pork ribs and Italian sausage and it turned out great as always. John and I killed a couple of bottles of good wine, smoked cigars on the cabana and reminisced.

Besides being brothers-in-law at one time, John and I have been close friends over the years, even after his sister and I divorced. About a year ago, my ex died from cancer at the young age of 42. As can be imaged, her sudden illness and passing devastated the family, particularly John. He and my ex were quite close (in age and relationship) and even now, he's just adjusting to her no longer walking the planet. Sad, but true to life.

John was really impressed with the house, especially Leia's decorating. My wife definitely has great design sense, certainly more than I do. I trust her choices implicitly, even if I don't understand them all the time.

Leia and I were supposed to go back east in early December to deal with a legal matter (related to her son and child support we're being sued to pay), but the hearing has been continued until early January. At least we can enjoy the holidays in peace, including my favorite, Honeybaked Ham for Thanksgiving!

May your turkey, ham, tofu burger, whatever be a wonderful one this Thanksgiving!

From our holiday table on the Hill to yours,
Michael

Digging Up The Bones

2006-11-11T14:34:00.003-08:00

One of the hazards of being a writer is everything becomes fodder for your ramblings. I say that a whole lot of affection, of course, because I thank God every day I have the ability to put words down on virtual paper that some people enjoy. This blog has given me an outlet for chronicling both the bizarre and mundane that happens to me or that I observe every day and I fell is worth sharing.

The American mid-term elections were held this week and as everybody knows, the Republicans got soundly trounced this time around. I write that with both somewhat evil intent, but at the same time, with some trepidation. Frankly, I feel both major American parties are mostly incompetent, ineffectual or corrupt. No matter who is in power, the same knuckleheads are going to mishandle our tax dollars, needlessly get us embroiled in some foreign conflict where the real motivations are poorly hidden behind a veil of political spin and be the source of at least one good scandal before the next major election season.

If I sound cynical, it's hard not to be - or better put, it difficult to be an idealist when you've spent your entire adult life seeing the same cycles occur. Americans (like others, of course) hate to pay taxes and yet want all the services that a tax-rich government can provide. The Republicans vaunt the interests of business and supposedly eschew higher taxes while the Democrats elevate the issues of the poor and working class above all else and at whatever costs can be crammed down our throats. Those on both sides who call for bipartisan cooperation are, frankly, living in the most fantastic of all non-realities and when there is that rare cooperation we all crave to see, it's usually short-lived and very limited in its impact. Let's get real, folks - both sides are diametrically opposed both philosophically and spiritually and always will be.

So, every few years, the cycle comes back to the beginning and we throw "the bums" of the moment out on their asses. Fear not, GOP-ers, your party will be on top again in a few years and there will be plenty more opportunities to flex our military muscle. And Dems - I'm sorry, but your time is limited and you're in really in on a mandate of better you than them; let's see if you can do something right for a change. My advice to the leaders of both parties - stop pandering to the extreme ends of your constituency and instead, acknowledge that there are more of us in the middle than you ever really cared to see.

Meanwhile, back at the White House, old Mensa Candidate Bush finally pulled the trigger and fired that useless Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld. When the Army Times calls for the ouster of their big boss, you'd think that would be a MAJOR clue that he should be gone? No, knowing Bush, he thought that the GOP wouldn't do so bad in the elections and he could once again ignore the Army brass by keeping around old Secretary Stinky Pants. Guess what? Not this time, Mr. President-Wanna-Be … your arrogance (and his) has finally come back to haunt you. Now you're kissing the posterior of one of the most liberal members of Congress Nancy Pelosi who is only a mere few steps away from ascending to your Oval Office.

Leia and I have been working to clear out our two storage areas located in a rental place about 30 or so miles away from us. Our goal has been to combine two into one and then move the whole she-bang closer so we can go through it more easily. We want to be rid of the old junk and have everything out of storage completely some day, but right now, we don't have the room in our garage to take it all.

One of the things we brought back to the house is a huge cache of letters that I got from a childhood friend throughout the years following our respective moves to college and carried well into our adulthood (until the advent of email). These letters fill three large shoeboxes and basically document the history of our lives as we took on wives, kids (his), divorce (mine) and views on politics, music and world events.

I took some time out the other day to read some of the letters and was immediately engrossed. My friend (Jim) has a dry sense of humor which is quite apparent in his writing. Jim had told me years ago that he wanted me to keep his correspondence because if he ever was famous some day, this would be helpful to him (I presume to write his memoirs). About a year ago, I asked him if he wanted his letters back because we wanted to make room in our storage bin. He told me to toss them, but I decided to keep them instead. I'm glad I did.

Jim and I exchanged emails this week and I told him that these letters were "gold" and I had half a mind to transcribe them all electronically. Jim wasn't too sure of the idea - in fact, he's now thinking of running for Congress some day and doesn't want to have any evidence of youthful indiscretions around. To try to convince him of the value of this correspondence, I transcribed one short one and emailed it to him. He was amused and has backed off on his request that they be destroyed. Whether or not I actually type them all up remains to be seen - hell, I estimate there are a close to a thousand letters here - but I would at least like to try to read them all.

Of course, the writer in me wants to do something creative with all of this material and there's certainly the possibility that I may proceed in that direction (which is something I think Jim is afraid of). Would you if you were me?

Meanwhile, on the Hill, our pool guy thinks our pool has a leak which is why the water has been disappearing so quickly. We're going to bring in a leak specialist to confirm that for us and then take whatever action is appropriate. We thought we could get away with not redoing the hardscape and pool until next year, but this may push that timetable ahead. Any work we do with the kitchen will either be something we do on our own or a project we'll defer until the pool is secured.

The powder room toilet still needs to be replaced. In fact, just as I wrote that sentence, it cycled again, indicating that the water level got too low. I'm looking forward to the day when all of this remodeling is done and we can just LIVE in our house. I think Leia is finally accepting of the fact that this is an old house and needs work in order to make it a good resell. I just can't devote the time and energy I need to because, to be perfectly honest, my day job exhausts me.

Enough with my whining … have a great week.
Michael

For the Love of Mass Transportation (Part II)

2006-11-04T22:34:00.001-08:00

In my last post, I left off with the dread you feel when a new arrival on the bus is destined to end up sitting next to you. As I was saying, you really can't choose your seatmate, so I try to look out the window and hope that if someone has to sit down in an adjoining seat, that they are small, healthy and quiet.

Small is self-explanatory; I take a whole seat, nothing more, and only want to sit next to someone with the same carriage. It's a known fact that Americans are getting fatter all the time and I certainly can't argue that I'm among that "growing" population, but I still only require one regulation sized seat and don't like sharing it with another's body fat.

Healthy … well, it's always my luck that the ones with the colds, flu, TB, whatever, with their attendant hacking, phlegmy coughs and sloppy sneezes choose me, of all people, to escort to work. They are the same people who come unequipped to travel in public in such a condition - no handkerchief or Kleenex, not so much as a ratty paper towel.

It wouldn't be so bad if they turned and coughed the other way or even put their hands over their mouth - no, they turn TOWARD me and cough without trying to cover up! Now I'm no germophobe, but I know for a fact that I'll be cleaning my hands all day with Purell anti-bacterial liquid after sitting next to one of those people.

On quiet … I don't mind engaging in simple banter with my fellow travelers. After all, I'm a writer and you never know where you're going to get the next idea or scrap of dialog for something in the future. No, the kind of quiet I'm talking about is someone who is free from weird noises or those who make other annoying sounds.

For example, let me tell you about Wang, an 50ish Asian gentleman who always seems to be on the same bus I am no matter which one I take. Most of the time, Wang is fast asleep in the front sleep, either to or from work. Fine, I can easily deal with sleeping. However, when Wang isn't asleep, he's a bundle of nervous energy and that translates into useless noise. His favorite trick is to bounce a large key ring on his thigh repeatedly like he was hitting a tambourine. Whatever music is playing in his head isn't heard by the rest of us, so all we hear are jingling keys, over and over again.

After being forced to the back of the line of Friday night, I still was able to get a seat near the window, so at each stop, I waited for the new passengers to file on, hoping that I'd be traveling solo. Nothing doing, I'm afraid. Who sits next to me - some large-ish Asian guy, who promptly proceeds to sit down, spread out and fall asleep. Soon, I feel his legs pushing against mine and his elbow aimed squarely at my right kidney.

All the way home, I had to nudge the guy several times to move off of me. I usually don't feel claustrophobic, but I started sweating and getting desperate for some fresh air. All of those people on the bus and no ventilation really made me want to get out quick. When my stop finally came, I almost stepped on the guy to get out. I'm sure I looked like a lunatic to the other passengers, but the cool air on my face revived me immediately.

That leads me to my next observation - the weirdo on the bus. I recently read an essay which posited that every bus has at least one weirdo. The writer advised riders to look around and if they don't see any weirdoes on their bus, the safe bet is you're they weirdo. I guess I was that person Friday night, though I'd like to think that falling asleep and spreading out into a neighbor's personal space is weird, too.

There is other odd behavior which I note on the bus (or waiting for it). For example, there's this one woman who stands in the bus line several feet away from the person in front of her. She refuses to move within the acceptable distance from a stranger we all know and learn as kids. What that does is extend the line several more feet than would be the case normally and invites people to walk past everyone behind her to fill in the big hole she left. That's happened more than once with me behind this woman because, as always, I'm polite and don't pass her when I line up.

I don't think I can put this next person in the weird category - I think rude is more apropos. There are a few women who are driven to the bus stop by their husbands and sit in the car with them until the bus comes. Now, this isn't a problem - in fact, it's probably nice if you think about it. However, when the bus comes, they get of out the car and move right to the front of the line no matter how many people were there first. How can people act that way? I'm really embarrassed for them and for myself for feeling this way. However, I can only tell the truth as I see it.

You may ask why do I keep using the bus to commute day after day instead of getting a ride from my wife or trying some other form of mass transportation. First, it's cheap. Second, it's convenient. Third, it helps the environment. Finally, it gives me something to write about!

No more on my commuting annoyances, I promise!

Michael

For the Love of Mass Transportation

2006-11-04T16:53:00.001-08:00

Leia and I only have one car - by design, in fact - so I frequently take mass transportation into the office. My favorite mode of this travel is by train, but the conveyance I would take would drop me off too far from home and there's no real direct connector to a bus line that comes to our area.

As a result, I take a commuter bus line which has a stop less about a mile from the house. Now I used to take this same line from my home in the South Bay a few years ago and learned the ins and outs of commuting this way. In fact, I was able to write 800 pages of my first novel on the back and forth trips every day, but unfortunately, wrote myself into the proverbial corner and put the manuscript on the backburner (where it remains more than three years later).

I don't know if it was because I got used to my other commuting buddies or because this is a different type of fellow rider, but let me tell you, every trip (no matter what direction) is both an exercise in frustration and a comedic snapshot of the working world. I would be remiss in my duties as a chronicler of my life if I didn't illustrate some of these observations.

The fun starts standing in bus lines in the morning. Back when I was a lad, I had to stand in a line waiting for the school bus. There were no adults monitoring the bus stop, no one telling us what to do. However, kids just seem to understand early on the rules of human politesse. There we'd be, all huddled in our winter jackets standing in single file along the side of the road. As each new arrival made his or her way to the group, they would automatically take their place at the back of the line. It was pretty routine - whoever got there first, was in line first (the perfect queue).

Apparently, some of my fellow travelers never stood in school bus lines as a child. Instead, a typical morning may find me standing at the front of the line (clearly marked by the bus sign) and then the "regular" riders arriving later and then proceeding past me to muscle their way in front. Somewhere along the way, these people even forgot the basic rule of social order, don't cut in line! These are always women who do this and my guess they figure that the way we men are, we're not going to make a fuss about their rudeness and besides, because I'm a newbie, I just have to accept it.

I'm not a petty guy - really, ask anyone - but few things irk me more than watching (or experiencing) someone being rude. To this day, my father goes out of his way to avoid appearing rude (even though he never even comes close) and as a good son, I've tried to model my behavior after his. I know he would be as annoyed as I am every day if he saw that, but like me, he wouldn't say anything to the offenders.

The corollary to this is the evening return. The stop I go to is under construction, so it moved loosely about 50 yards further east. These is no sign indicating the new stop, but there are supposedly landmarks (like a streetlight) which indicates where the bus line is to start. Again, more often than not, I'm the first in this ambiguous line. As other commuters show up, they start their own line further past "mine" and if I'm not paying attention, I end up at the very end of the line instead of at the beginning where I started.

Friday night, I thought I'd be cleverer than my fellow travelers and start the line even further east where they couldn't start a new line past me. Instead, they started the new line BEHIND me! So, when the bus drove by, instead of stopping where I was, he blasted on past and I once again ended up at the back of the line! Of course, there have been times when I stood in the correct spot and just as happens in the mornings, a group of apparently clueless fellow travelers go out of their way to step in front of me and move (once again) to the read. I must be invisible. Arrrggh … it's maddening, I tell you!

Once you're on the bus, the second hurdle you have to jump is to choose the right seat. Those of you who travel Southwest know the drill. The first thing you do is look for an empty pair of seats unless you know someone you want to sit with. As you can imagine, I don't fall into this special category. Since these buses are two seats - aisle - two seats and they are both narrow side to side and front to back, the most polite thing is to take the seat closest to the window so as not to hold up the whole line by having to sep into the aisle to let someone in.

If I can't get a window seat in an empty pair, then I choose an aisle seat of the most petite female I can find. Even those women seem to have no problems pushing past me in line, when it comes to sitting down, if a big guy like me takes a seat next to them, they do their best to shrink so not one little part of them touches me. The petite ones are already not taking much room, so when I sit down, they all but disappear from view. Good for them and good for me, everybody wins.

However, if a petite woman isn't easily in view, then it's a tough call - do I go with the big women, usually twice my size or do I sit next to a slim guy. This decision has to be made in a millisecond as the people behind you are anxious to sit down, too. I usually go for the slim guy over the big woman and most of the time, that's a good call.

When you are the one making the decision about who you sit next to, at least you feel like there's a measure of control in some part of your life. However, when you have the empty aisle seat next to you, you don't have a choice who your traveling partner is and many times, it's someone who already has a reputation of being weird or annoying, making the trip to your destination ever so intolerable.

Next time … more travel tales …

Happy trails,
Michael

Little Armenia

2006-11-04T09:22:00.001-08:00

In a previous post, I made mention of the fact that Glendale, California, a city near us, is home to one of the largest Armenian community in North America - in fact, probably the one of the largest outside of Armenia itself. I've had the good fortune over the years to become acquainted with a number of Armenians, but none closer than my friend, Gregor.

Gregor used to work for me when I was IT director at another company. He was a network administrator there and a damn good one at that. Gregor was one of the hardest workers I've ever employed - not only bright, but also creative in his solutions. He even invented some processes and devices that we used to great success while we worked together.

I left that other company before Gregor - in fact, before that other company closed its doors, dying of corruptness that only befits such dysfunction. Unfortunately, Gregor got caught in the collapse and since that job, he has yet to find a full-time position. Instead, he's being making do with various contract jobs as he's been able to find with his own industry.

From time to time, I've been able to refer Gregor to headhunters that ask for talented technicians, but none have panned out into employment opportunities for Gregor. The good thing is I've been able to contract him at my current firm for three to six months at a stretch, as projects and other assignments have come up. I still have not been able to get him a position with us, though, and I feel bad about it because he's a great guy, an excellent worker and a loyal friend.

Well, today is Gregor's last day with us on this latest contract and I'm a bit sad about it. One thing I'm grateful for is that my staff really likes him, too, and even tried to intercede to extend his contract. If only I had it in my power, I tell them. If only …

This past weekend, Gregor invited myself and members of my staff with whom he worked most closely (and our families) over to his house for an Armenian BBQ. If you've never had the pleasure of such a feast, consider your life unfulfilled (that is, if you like to eat).

Leia and I arrived at Gregor's house armed with a nice box of chocolates and an even nicer bottle of cognac, Gregor's favorite. We were the first ones there even though we were an hour late (our being the first arrivals anywhere is very rare). Gregor and his two sons were already busy working the two grills The first devices was full of all kinds of meat on wrought iron stakes which were hand-turned at varying intervals throughout the preparation. The other grill had aluminum foil containers of catfish already cooking in the open air.

The secret of the Armenian barbeque is the spices. It's not like American BBQ where everything is doused in smoke-flavored tomato-based sauce, making it a mess to hands, face and beard and gets stuck under the fingernails for days. No, Armenian barbecue spices are mixed with a more subtle liquid and regularly basted on the meat as it is turned.

I know I speak for Leia and the rest of the guests as they trickled in, the smell of that meat was maddeningly wonderful. They had everything - chicken, beef, lamb, pork - and mounds and mounds of it. Finally, it was time and we went into the dining room to start the consumption.

At the table was Gregor's two sisters, mother and aunt, all of whom live in a separate house behind the main house. The sisters spoke English pretty well, but neither the mother nor the aunt spoke more than one or two words in our language. That was okay, though, since food and drink is an international language, isn't it?

There was so much food on the table they couldn't fit it all! Plates of the barbeque plus all the sides took whatever space was available, leaving little for glasses and bottles. And what bottles! Cognac, wine, vodka and soda (for the kids and non-drinkers) were placed in strategic places around the flatware.

The side dishes ranged the gamut of the Mediterranean food chain - moussaka, Armenian sausage with spaghetti, salads made from beets, eggplant, chicken, eggs - and breads, both Armenian bread with sesame seeds and lavash - and on and on. A total and complete feast for both the eyes and the palate.

Gregor raised his glass to toast his guests and then we all dug in. Now I can eat a lot … and believe me, I tried everything once or twice - but I could barely make a dent in all that meat. In between servings, Gregor filled my glass with the cognac I gave him and an Austrian wine he recently introduced to me and my dad. I was feeling quite warm from all the consumption (and poor Leia had a hot flash right in the midst of this and made her way outside to cool off).

After the main dishes were removed, out came the desserts - delicacies from the Armenian bakery around the corner, piles of fruit and nuts and then the Armenia coffee, strong and muddy with grounds. Talk about a wake-up call!

We chatted about so many things that night - work, play, TV, children, on and on. Eventually, the evening was winding down, but before we left, we all had to have our coffee grounds read by Gregor's sister, Anna. Each of us had turned our cups upside down to let the ground coat the inside walls of the little demitasse cups they were in. One by one, we walked down to the end of the table to be "read," while the rest of us talked. All you could hear was the murmuring of Anna telling the past, present and future to each person and then when done, the next one was called.

My future was sort of simple, I guess. It was hard to read mine because the grounds just sat in a muddle lump at the bottom of the cup. Very little had managed to find its way down the sides. I like giving fortune tellers a challenge, I guess. Finally, Anna told me she sees the number seven and that means that I am at the end of my journey. At first, I thought she meant I'm going to be going to the great beyond sooner than I planned, but she explained that I have everything I want - good job, wife, house, family, money - and I don't have anything else to pursue. Then she made me use my thumb to mash up the grounds a little bit to help her see more. Now she was able to see that someone or something would be arriving by airplane after Christmas which would change my life. I hope it's in a good way!

After all the fortunes were told, we said our good-byes to Gregor and his family, thanking them heartily for the wonderful meal they made for us. Before we walked out, though, each of us was handed a large bag full of leftovers. You can bet I started eating them the next day, too!

The Armenian people are so warm, friendly and giving, unselfish and loyal friends and truly wonderful people. We're lucky to have Gregor and in his family in our lives and look forward to inviting them over for an Italian feast very soon!

Urban Pioneers

2006-11-04T09:17:00.001-08:00

I wrote this article a couple of years ago and recently posted it on a writer's forum I found through Cool Site Of The Day. I was hoping to get some constructive feedback in one way or the other from other board members, but I received very little of anything. I think it has something to do with the minimum age of the site - 11 - and it seems that most of the comments I've read on others' works is clearly at that age level. Sorry if that sounds condescending, but very few preteens have adult insights into real life topics.

I'm reproducing the article here for posterity. Comments (positive and critical), as always, are welcome.

Sunday morning in Los Angeles, rain drizzling for the first time in what seems to be forever. It took quite an effort to pull myself out of my Ambien-induced fog and when I crossed that chasm, an awareness of a headache crept in to take its place.

Leia was already awake and in the kitchen cutting an apple for her breakfast. I’m not so motivated to eat first thing upon awakening. “Breaking my fast” was never a concept I bought into, which is interesting coming from a guy who could happily put away almost a pound of pasta at any given sitting. Any sitting except breakfast, that is.

This whole loft dwelling thing is new to both of us and we’re getting used to living downtown in our own way. The ten minute walk to my office has made me the envy of my co-workers and has given me back two hours every day. For Leia, she now has to share laundry facilities with all the other tenants and as an only child, she doesn’t share very well.

I laid in bed for a moment listening to a car alarm from somewhere below us repeating its frantic warning, then suggested we open up the window and take in the rain-washed smell of the city air. The sights and sounds of L.A. are beyond charming, but it’s all strange and different. Leia has called this stage in our lives “our return to dorm living,” a characterization most accurate on the weekends as the cacophony of drunken laughter and moving furniture passes easily through thin, plaster walls. Even then, I am charmed.

The smell of fresh morning air is both inspiring and surprising, as L.A. is not known for its clean air. However, after one of those rare overnight rainfalls, all of one’s senses are put on alert. Mountains that had been virtually invisible for months suddenly consume the landscape in bold colors of icy blue and white. The sound of rain pelting the streets and cars driving through virgin puddles competes with the noise of jets flying overhead.

Leia looked out the window and noted a large crowd of people were collecting in the park kitty-corner to our building. With almost with new eyes, I note the brown and red clock tower that stands at the entrance to the park and then beyond there a sea of white-shirted early risers. The vague sound of salsa music emanates from their midst and then without warning, a series of announcements blares over the public address system. I conclude that this collection of humanity were participants in an early morning race and from the looks of it, the turn-out would not disappoint the City Fathers.

The sky looked lighter in the west, a foreshadowing of clearer weather coming soon. In the buildings below our ninth floor, the hazy sunshine reflects in the large puddles that collected there. These small pools have become very popular with the local avian population who spend most of their year visiting the same old ponds every time they need a good cleaning. Bird baths arise easily in this city after a rain.

I’m enjoying the music playing in the park mixed with the sounds of the fire trucks that apparently joined the festivities, if only in support of the runners. It’s clear this city is undergoing a renaissance, somewhat tentative, yet appealing in its potential. We’re part of a big experiment, it seems … can Los Angeles duplicate the success of other large cities and attract urban pioneers with freshly minted lofts in what were abandoned buildings a year ago? For me, our temporary stay here is the perfect coda to my California experiment. In a year’s time, who knows where we’ll be?

The last strains of the National Anthem echo through the alleys between our studio and the park, followed by the rallying cries of today’s runners. After a count-off, an air horn blares and the racers erupt with a scream. The day is perfect for running, the rain having given way to bright sunshine, yet leaving the air fresh and cool. I should be down there.

TR - Winter, 2004

Mother Church

2006-10-29T19:18:00.001-08:00

When Jimmy Buffet performs the song "Fruitcakes" in concert, he likes to inject a very philosophical line between verses of the song: "Ah, there's a thin line between Saturday night and Sunday morning!" Ain't that the truth, folks?

I was raised in a Catholic family, went to Catholic grade school and even had an old Italian grandmother that sat in the corner with her prayer book and rosaries praying for all of us when she wasn't cooking or watching her "stories" on TV. I dutifully went to Mass every Sunday, First Friday and Holy Day throughout my tenure at Holy Christ School. Thankfully, I went to a public high school, though I attended CCD classes once a week during those four years (and even a bit into college).

I said "thankfully" above because at the time, I pretty much had my fill of Catholic school and yearned to intermingle with those outside the homogenized world that the Holy Father sought to create. In truth, I was disenchanted with the constant hypocrisy I saw inside those hallowed halls and even at thirteen, I had a hard time reconciling the outward piety of the nuns with some of the brutal verbal bloodletting of their student charges. I even dared to say such out loud to a lay teacher in eighth grade, a thought he quickly silenced for fear of either of us being overheard and chastised for our lack of faith. However, something tells me he agreed my sentiment.

I dutifully attended all the required church services with or once I got my driver's license, without my parents. As I got older, I extended my questioning beyond the misbehavior of some malicious nuns. When I listened to the content of the mass and tried to get meaning out of the priest's sermon, I felt that these holy men were just going through the motions as much as I was and even as the rest of the congregation was.

At first, I thought that I wasn't paying attention during the homily, so I tried to be more attentive even though the desire for extra sleep weighed heavily on my eyelids. No matter how hard I tried, though, I just wasn't "getting it." Now, I'm no dummy and without blowing my horn, I think of myself as pretty deep, even back as a pimply, skinny runt trying to become a man. However, I felt that the situation was impossible and almost resigned myself to a life of obligation without meaning.

Then I went away to college in my junior year. On campus, I attended mass at the Neumann Center for the first time and listened in awe to Father John Mahoney, an soul-stirring speaker who not only understood what it was to be a servant of God, but how to make one be a better person in a world where such a goal was becoming very difficult to achieve. I admit that I had a bit of a hangover at mass that day, so I chalked up my new found spirituality to wanting to get penance for my alcohol-related sins.

Every Sunday, I found myself making sure I got to the Center on time and mentally prepared for Father Mahoney's inspirational sermon and every week, I wasn't disappointed. I found myself leaving mass with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication, to my classes, my family and my fellow man. It was a good feeling that I really looked forward to.

It was after several Sundays of these wonderful services that I found myself back in my home town (I think it was during the Thanksgiving break) and I attended mass at Holy Christ Church for the first time since the semester started. I thought that I was prepared now to hear the message and learn from it and I kept and open mind that the old parish priest could give me what I needed. Nope, no way, not even close. It was even worse - many times over, in fact - so much so that I almost walked out right after the homily. The man talked for fifteen minutes and said NOTHING - how could that be?

When I returned to college, I attended on final mass at the Neumann Center just to make certain. Sure enough, Father Mahoney's oratory was inspirational, enlightening and educational. I was sad to say good-bye.

Now, one would ask why would I stop going if I was getting so much out of these services? It took a while for me to reconcile that with myself, I can assure you. The best way to explain it: Father Mahoney was an anomaly, that much was clear from all my church-going over the years. The man was brilliant - so much so that non-Catholics would go to his masses just to hear him speak. Unfortunately, I knew I would never have it as good as that when I returned to the "real" world, so I just gave up and stopped going.

During my breaks at home, I would tell my parents I was going out to mass, when I was really going to book stores. It was during this time that I really overspent my meager savings on books featuring philosophy, religion, history and a number of biographies as well as the classic literature that was mandatory for some during my high school years (I was on the honors track, so I ended up never reading standard required fiction at that time).

Over the years, I maintained the charade of my church-going for my parents' sake, making sure that when we were together on Saturday or Sunday night, I took them to mass if they were visiting me. It was only recently when my sister, another lapsed Catholic, spilled the beans to my mother about my not going either. Knowing my sister, she lashed out and told them when my parents were lecturing her about going every Sunday "like her brother."

To their credit, my parents didn't preach to me about my lost soul if I don't go to Sunday mass and I continued to take them to church when they've come out to California, even as recently as their trip to LA a couple of weeks ago. Just like their last visit, I dutifully escorted them to the local Catholic church (having looked up the location on the Internet), made sure I knew the times of the masses and made sure we got there on time. And just like their last visit, after they left, I continued going on my own (sometimes accompanied by my wife).

Why the change of heart? It seems I'm getting more out of the messages that these priests are sharing then those from my early parish days. Is it that I'm getting older and I'm more mature to hear the lessons being taught? Perhaps. I think that in California, there's always a tendency to be more new age and spiritual and that transcends even the normally staid Catholic doctrine.

Other observations … there are many who equate a good mass with how short it is. Thirty minute service - fantastic! For me, it's not about the length of the service, it's all about how I feel when the processional exits the church and we're allowed to leave. Do I have the tools to fight another week? Am I spiritually in tune with readings and can I apply them in my daily life?

Many may ask why I support an organization that suppressed the truth about sexual abuse of children by sick priests. Or some even ask how can I participate in a rite that is sanctioned by group that was responsible for the Inquisition, the persecution and prosecution of Galileo, the deniers of so many proven scientific discoveries including the age of the earth and the value of stem cells.

My answer now and forever - religion is man-made, but spirituality is one's mutual understanding with his or her Maker. God isn't religion - God is what we believe him, her, it or them to be. God is in all of us - or not. We may meet God at the end of our lives here on earth or maybe on Judgment Day - or maybe never. All of us are responsible to our own ideal (and idea) of God because at the end of it all, we must first and last live with ourselves. Religion may try to set moral standards for man, but it is man that must live up to them or die in a vain attempt.

So, where will my new spiritual journey lead? The cynical side of me says it gives me more fodder for my writing. The idealistic side of me says it gives me more focus during this time of uncertainty and doubt in my professional life. I have to admit I feel much better these days after going to weekly mass. Maybe it's all psychological … which is fine, believe me, because if it works for my brain, it will work for my spirit. I may be intelligent, but that doesn't mean I know everything. I always want to be striving to know more.

Deep subject for this post, but well worth my time to write it …
Michael

Baseball Daze

2006-10-28T16:05:00.001-07:00

Watching sports on TV, as I wrote about before, hasn't been how I spent my leisure time for the last several years, though I'm enjoying football these days more than ever (and hockey, too, when I'm wanting to watch a game and no football can be found). However, when it comes to baseball's championship season, I'm usually good for a few playoff and World Series match-ups.

This year was no exception and my season-end baseball bug fully bloomed when my dad was out here. My father is a big baseball fan - he dreamed of being a big-leaguer when he was a kid and even though he really never pursued that as a career, the love of the game never left him. The Yankees are like God's team in my parents' home. Every birthday and other gift-giving holiday (and even for no reason at all), they get Yankee gear - shirts, hats, jackets, bats, balls, you name it, they have it (and in every child's size at this point, too).

The black sheep of the family is my nephew Charlie. He loves the Mets, the Yanks' cross-town rivals (though not like it was when the Dodgers were in Brooklyn!). The boy begrudgingly accepts the Yanks memorabilia because they are presents from his grandma and grandpa, but you know he wants to tell them how about a Mets cap from time to time? Poor kid, I don't know if he'll ever grow out of this obstinate phase of his life.

Naturally, when I was a lad, the Yankees were MY team and to some degree, I still have that old love for them in my heart. No one can be as big a deal as Mickey Mantle in my eyes (though Reggie Jackson came pretty close). This is something that my father and I share, a love bordering on idolatry of The Mick. Even when the man showed his feet of clay and came out as an hard core alcoholic, but my dad and I continued our loyalty to #7. One of the proudest days in my dad's later years has been to hand to me his copy of The Mick, Mantle's autobiography, along with the dollar bill Mantle signed that he used (and I used) as a bookmark.

So, a tradition of Yankee fandom reigned in that house I grew up in which carries through to today. You can then imagine how crazy it was for my parents to be in Las Vegas right during the Yankees' run for the pennant. There were three men were - my dad, my uncle and me - stopping in front of every casino bar's TV to watch an inning before being dragged by our respective spouses to some place fun for them, too. It was at one of the big casinos where we saw the Yanks lose to the Tigers in a decidedly lopsided series. We grumbled our way the entire trek to the next casino.

When my folks flew out here to stay with us after Vegas, my dad and I tried to catch every playoff game there was. We rooted for the Mets against the Cardinals and because of the rain delays, that series' last game was the same day they flew back to the east coast. Dad was on the plane when Endy Chavez stole the home run from the Cardinals and turned it into a beautiful double play, but was driving in torrential rain from the airport and heard the Mets lose live on the radio. New York's hopes for a World Series title were lose for another season.

We both watched the rest of the playoffs in our respective homes, sometimes emailing each other about something particularly noteworthy or catching up with him during my weekly calls back there. He was impressed enough with Detroit's wipeout of his beloved Yanks to root for them in the Series - I, on the other hand, really didn't have a dog in that race. In the end, though, I thought the better team won and more importantly, that Detroit's pitchers need to take a lot of fielding practice in the next spring training.

Baseball's now over for this season and St. Louis is enjoying their time in the sun, no matter what the sports pundits are writing to take the shine off of their win. And now I can go back to my football games and get my head back into other things that I need to concentrate on now … like this blog.

There was some work of note on the Hill this week. First, courtesy of my parents, our new dishwasher arrived and was installed on Wednesday. The young man who came had a helluva time installing that bad boy, according to my wife. In fact, it was somewhat touch and go whether the thing would fit. That's what you get for trying to install a modern appliance in a 40+ year old house, I guess. Anyway, after a few hours of struggling to get it into its space, the guy finally achieved his goal and left us with a brand new, functional, dishwasher.

The Miracle Method guy came back on Wednesday as well to touch up areas he had missed, returning on Thursday to finish up. The end results were quite satisfactory and I recommend the process to anyone who wants a fairly inexpensive way to freshen up a bathroom that isn't used too often.

Our friends at Culligan had to return a couple of times this week, finally bringing a replacement water softener unit because the other one had problems. As of this writing, we have soft water again, though we will be testing it regularly and will report problems as soon as any come up. We remain hopeful that this is the last we'll be fighting this issue.

Leia used some product on the kitchen counters to rewhiten the grout. It came out looking really good, especially after I applied the new grout at the joints. We're doing the same thing in the master bathroom, something we'll be completing tomorrow.

On the docket for the rest of the weekend … I'm going to try to fix the leaky toilet in the powder room. It seems to cycle every three hours and I believe it has to something to do with corroding rubber washers in the tank. Hopefully, this won't be an involved job. Other assignments include building a filler on the shelf over the range hood to prevent anything put in there to fall into the fan area. My dad already custom cut the wood when he was out here, I only need to attach some brackets and screw it into the existing shelf.

I'll close now as Leia and I are going to a friend's house for Armenian barbecue. Lots of food, drink and pleasant conversation await us.

Life's a party - enjoy it!
Michael.

The Great American Barber Shop

2006-10-21T14:43:00.002-07:00

When I was a little kid, my used to take me to Mike's Barber Shop over near where my grandparents lived to get my hair cut. This was the same place my dad used to go to, though rarely did he and I make the trip at the same time for our respective grooming needs.

Mike's was probably typical of almost every other barber shop in America, but I wouldn't know that for sure since his was the only one I ever ventured into until adulthood. My trips there were pretty much always the same: the men being cut and those waiting for a chair would become suddenly silent in that guilty sort of way a group of men do when they're talking about women in less than innocent terms. Here comes this kid with his mother and all of a sudden, it becomes more silent than a requiem mass.

I admit, I was a pretty square kid - not my fault, really, my parents were (and still are) very square and I didn't have older brothers (or even sisters) that would help me develop at least a thin strip of cool - that is, as cool as a 10 year old kid can be, which isn't much. However, as all things are relatively, I can cop to the fact that I was one of the least cool of all my contemporaries. Again, this wasn't my fault.

I can remember walking into Mike's Barber Shop, almost dreading the time when my mother would give the poor guy detailed instructions about how to cut my hair - or should I say, how SHORT to cut it. "It was still too long the last time," she'd say in that exasperated mother-voice most of still hear in our most restive sleep. There was Mike, big Italian fellow with arms that hinted of a past as a boxer or at least a lifeguard - and here's my mom, 5' 4" in her stocking feet and telling this big hulk of a man how to do his job.

I wouldn't have hated that so much if it was just Mike there. Unfortunately, most of the time, there'd be at least one or two guys there, surreptitiously perusing two year old issues of Playboy and hiding them within Life magazine or some other suitably oversized periodical. I don't know if they fooled my prim and proper mother, but I can attest now, thirty-seven years later, I didn't miss a thing. Anyway, I would be standing there, probably turning every shade of red in the spectrum, as my mother preached the gospel of good hair-cutting.

As for Mike's part, God bless him, he'd stand there dutifully and listen (if not pretend to listen) to every word. It was always the same speech, with minor alterations, from the previous ones. Regardless of the actual content, the underlying theme was very clear - short, shorter, shortest. Not a buzz cut (or a crew cut, as we used to call them) like my friend Howard used to get - but a short-as-possible, yet not leaving just skin, kind of cut.

One day, my mom dropped me off at Mike's to go in to get my hair cut without her as an escort because she had to run some errands. She gave me the short form of her speech to Mike on the way there, handed me the money and waited until she saw me walk into the barber shop before pulling away from the curb.

As fate would have it, there was a guy already in the chair being cut, but no one else was waiting. I casually looked around for the ancient Playboys (by ten, I already had seen my fair share thanks to my friend with the three older brothers). This day, though, they weren't in sight and it wasn't until years later that I learned such adult fare usually was kept in a special place known only to regular customers. I ended up browsing an oldish Sports Illustrated while waiting for my turn.

Mike brushed off the old leather chair with a horsehair brush and gestured for me to step up. He casually asked me where my mom was and I replied she had to run some errands in what I hoped was an equally casual voice. Then he asked me the fateful question, the one I'm sure he asked every customer when they took their seat: What's it going to be today?

I could see my lower jaw drop in the large mirror in front of me. I stammered and fidgeted under Mike's impatient gaze, trying to think how to respond. Now you'd think after hearing my mother's regular instructions to the guy, I'd be able to repeat it verbatim. Instead, I just licked the inside of my mouth frantically, hoping to dredge up a drop or two of saliva so I wouldn't feel like I would drop dead of thirst right then and there.

Mike prodded me again and I finally managed to squeak out "The usual" in a way that I hoped would elicit at least a small recollection of what that could mean. I watched Mike's eyes for some acknowledgement and tried to signal to him that "the usual" was my best pitch, like it or lump it. Mike grunted in response, which I took as a good sign that all would be well.

Not so much, I'm afraid. I watch the barber as he stared at my head from this angle and that, spinning me in the chair from time to time, until it seemed like he had his plan of attack in place. Soon he was wielding the black electric razor in his right hand and a long comb in the other and set to work on my already short cut. All I could see at times was tufts of my hair flying this way and that, as he stepped between me and the mirror or spun me around out of view.

Finally, after what seemed to be an endless job (hard to believe, considering no one would've mistaken me for a hippie to start with), Mike was done. He stood back proudly to show me his handiwork, handing me a small mirror so I could inspect the back. I looked this way and that and nodded my pleasure with his handiwork. Mike smiled the tight smile of a man who finished another masterpiece and awaited new challenges.

After brushing me off, the barber rubbed some powder on the back of my neck where the razor had spent most of its time. I climbed out of the chair, handed him the money my mother had given me for the purpose, then walked outside to wait for her arrival. I didn't have to wait long - she pulled up in her Pontiac and I clambered in.

She only took a brief glance at me as she pulled away from the curb and we drove silently the five minutes to my grandparents' house. It wasn't until we were sitting down at their kitchen table, though, that my mother really looked closely at the job that was done. She stood up and walked around behind me when I heard her gasp. She quickly called my grandmother over to what she was looking at and the two of them talked excitedly about some unspeakable horror they witnessed.

"Let's go back, you can't go around looking like that," she exclaimed, taking me by the hand to leave. When I inquired what was wrong, she replied she couldn't believe that this guy who had cut my hair so many times made it look like he did it using a bowl as a guide. Not just that, but apparently, he tore the hell out of the back of my neck with his old-fashioned electric razor.

We made it to Mike's in record time and I dutifully followed my mother into the place, hoping that there wouldn't be any other customers. No such luck, I'm afraid. There was a man in the chair being shaved and two other guys waiting their turns. They all seemed to turn away when they caught the look in my mother's eyes, though. As sons themselves, I'm sure they saw that look before.

Mike wasn't able to get a single word in while my mother went up one side of him and down the other. She made me turn around so he could see how he butchered my poor neck, then continued to show how the haircut he gave me was subpar, even for him. From one to ten on the embarrassment scale, I was at a 500 or so.

Poor Mike, I had to give him credit, even to this day. He didn't need my mother's tirade any more than he needed a hole in his head, but he let her say his piece, then assured her that he would fix it. He sat me in the second chair and prepped me, all the time under my mother's steely gaze. He apologized to the two guys waiting who assured him they understood. The hapless guy under the hot towel in the other chair didn't utter a word, though I'm sure a lot of choice words went through his mind. Back then, though, even guys in the barber shop were gentlemen.

Mike first fixed my bad haircut, or at least the very best he could considering how much he had shaved off. My mother pointed out places here and there that needed fixing and Mike followed her instructions without questions. Finally, she was satisfied with the cut, but then asked him to do something about my broken neck skin. The barber browsed his collection of oils and creams that took up the largest portion of his counter space until he found some magical elixir apparently formulated for such circumstances.

He liberally applied lotion from that brown bottle and rubbed it deep into my neck. Eventually, he stopped and showed my mother the results of his ministrations. Mom looked left, right, up and down and eventually nodded a curt "okay" to the man. Mike brushed me off again and turned my chair toward the door so my mother and I could leave without further delay. I was too ashamed to look back to see what he or the other men were thinking, but to this day, I have no doubt that they were glad to see us go without an ending lecture.

Well, as you can imagine, I never went back to Mike's and neither did my dad once my mother convinced him of the folly of continuing to patronize that barber shop. I don't know if my dad ever was disappointed that I had unwittingly taken away this male ritual of weekly barber visits, but if he was, he never showed it. As it turned out, he wasn't thrilled with Mike either, having been cut one too many times with his sharp shears. The ironic twist in this change is my mom started cutting our hair and to this day, still does my dad's. I graduated to a stylist, a phenomenon born in the 70's, as men were then free to go have their hair coiffed just like the ladies.

I thought about all this today as I sat down in a real barber's chair for the first time in almost forty years. Prices have changed, that's for sure - sixteen bucks for a haircut instead of the $2.50 I remember as a kid. However, hair combs still reside in blue Barbicide and the walls are still decorated with pictures of different haircuts that look like it came from the 50's. Ben, my new barber, is a nice enough fellow and did a serviceable job for the ten minutes it took to give me a trim and clean up my beard. And I tried not to think of my mother as I saw that big black electric razor aimed at the back of my neck. I'm sure wherever Mike is, he smiled at that one.

Family Visit

2006-10-19T16:32:00.001-07:00

Today was a sad day at the Villa. Leia, Weasel and I had to bid farewell to la familiglia, my mom and dad, as their visit came to an end and they had to return to the east coast. We drove them to the Burbank Airport (now called the Bob Hope International airport or some such thing) this morning and I know my heart was heavy as was Leia's - and to hear it from my parents, they were sad to be going to. Even though they are retirees, duties at home call them back, unfortunately.

Unlike the prototypical daughter-in-law / mother-in-law relationship, Leia and my mom get along famously. They really enjoy each other's company and its not being done for my or my father's benefit. For my dad's part, he really loves Leia and because all of this, I knew that they were in good hands with my wife while I had to work during their trip.

Leia loved their company and took pleasure in driving them around the area, either going to stores or some day trips to interesting places like the Will Rogers' estate which is on state park grounds and is open to the public for tours as well as hiking and family outings. My dear wife also took them to another of our favorite spots, a Buddhist temple recognized as one of the largest in the Western hemisphere.

Now my parents are very conservative politically and in their religious tastes, too (this will be the subject of a future entry). I was a little iffy as to whether or not they would enjoy that visit, but they were effusive in their comments about the place, much to my pleased surprise. They did get their pilgrimages to the altars of Republicanism, though - both the Nixon and Reagan libraries are within reasonable driving distance to the Villa and even though they saw both places in previous visits, they were happy to go back and see what new exhibits awaited them. Leia was their happy chauffeur on these day trips.

I was able to take some time off, but usually that was devoted to work around the house. My father is quite skilled in home repair and improvement projects and really enjoys showing his 47 year old son new tricks in that area. Leia had no problems giving us projects to do and he kept busy right up to the last day of their stay. This activity will be chronicled in future blogs.

For me, the best "event" with them was driving out to Palm Springs for a day trip and then stopping by the Cabazon Mall on the way back. We walked the town streets, stopped for lunch and people watched the whole time. The weather certainly cooperated (as it usually does in PS) and even though it was cool and cloudy on the way there, I correctly predicted that as soon as we got on the 111 heading to our destination, the sun would come out, the clouds would blow away and the temperature would hit the mid-80's from the mid-60's throughout the major portion of our drive. I LOVE being right, especially about something like that :-)

Throughout their visit, though, I was constantly being dragged back to work, either by commuter bus or virtually, through my Blackberry. As I mentioned in previous entries, the day job doesn't give me a thrill on the best of days, but when it's bad, it's REALLY bad. As much as I loved my parents' visit, I would've enjoyed it more in a different month when things weren't so crazy. As a result of taking so many days off, though, I will not be paying the price and working a lot of late hours for the rest of the month to meet my deadlines.

My dad retired at 57 years old, God bless him, and once he hung up his flowchart template, he never looked back. For a number of reasons, they are living a very comfortable retirement and because they're such generous people, we're beneficiaries of their largesse. My goal is to retire at 57 and which is one reason we're spending the time and money fixing up this Villa. If "God is merciful and the crick don't rise," we'll be able to sell this place at a good profit, buy a nice new house in PS and live happily ever after. Until then, I am going to pursue this writing thing like it's going to be my only job in 10 years. I want to than you, Constant Reader, for indulging me and allowing me to work on this craft, this art, that I want to make my life's work after I leave the office drudge I call my career.

So, I'll close this blog entry for now and work with Leia to return to our humble existence prior to our family visit. As I mentioned, I have plenty of material for my next entries and hope they will be as entertaining to you to read as it has been for me to write.

From our somewhat empty Villa to yours,
Michael

Trip Delays

2006-10-08T22:22:00.001-07:00

Well, despite our best intentions and even more appropriately, our best efforts, we were not able to leave on Monday for Vegas like we originally intended. Instead, we were doing last minute work on the villa, including all the cleaning that needed to be done before my folks came to stay.

As it turns out, we ended up grabbing a flight to LV on Wednesday instead of driving. It all worked out for the best, though. We got there in time to take my parents out for the 48th anniversary and to gamble some. By Thursday night, we were pretty much played out before we went to see Penn & Teller at the Rio. Leia and I ended up throwing away some more money after that, getting to bed at 1:30 Friday morning. We flew back later that morning and did all the last minute grocery shopping before picking up my folks at 7:00 and heading back to our Hill.

Having my folks out here has been fun. We’ve been out to dinner a couple of times, Leia has cooked once (so far) and we went to the Oktoberfest celebration in our little town Saturday night. My father has helped me fix our sliding screen door and other repair jobs are on the docket. Dad continues to teach me even as a I approach my fifties, for which I am eternally grateful.

My day job has become a major weight on my mind as of late. Too many things going on, too much negative energy directed at me and my staff as of late. It has made it so I dread even thinking about my job let alone doing it. I have tomorrow (Monday) off and then I try to do a week’s worth of work in three before I take another four day weekend.

Short note from the Villa this week,
Michael.

Late, Tired and (Not Too) Short

2006-10-03T09:24:00.001-07:00

This post is a couple of days late, thanks to all the doings on the Hill this last week (plus). And since there are a number of tasks still on the docket before we theoretically get out of Dodge for a few days, I’ll keep it somewhat brief.

I wrote “theoretically” because we were supposed to be rolling to Vegas on Monday, but unfortunately, the old “eyes are bigger than our stomach” syndrome – that is, “if HGTV can do it in 30 minutes, why can’t we” effect – impacted us big time. I should’ve known better – having spent years managing computer projects, I just have a gut feel for when projects have too tight timelines or not enough resources (or the right ones) to complete the tasks.

Long story short – home improvement is a challenge for the unskilled; DYI is a great concept if you don’t have family coming on a particular date or other things (like a day job) get in the way of learning a new skill from scratch. Also, I want to block HGTV on our cable so Leia doesn’t get any more bright ideas!

As I pen this, I am one tired and sore pup, I tell you what. I’m 47 and I feel like I’m 67 these days. My hands are so sore that I can hardly make a fist in the morning (for what – to beat myself for agreeing to such a project!). I can’t stand to do much repetitive motion with my hands (especially my right one) as my fingers go numb from pre-carpal tunnel stress. Squatting and kneeling, at one time I could do with ease, I find it harder and harder to either get down in that position or to get up (take your pick).

So, after working / commuting ten or more hours a day, I come home, don my grubby clothes, and head into my laundry list of to-do’s here in the Villa, sometimes working until midnight just to get the assignments completed. It only takes me as long as it does because I don’t know what the HELL I’m doing half the time. Anyway, the next day, the clock radio goes off at 5:45am and I’m on the road again.

Yes, I’m whining … I wanted my moonlighting job to be in the form of writing (freelancing, even copywriting) and something that would energize me. Instead, I’m exhausted, two days late from starting my vacation (we don’t even leave until tomorrow now – hopefully) and I still have a 4+ hour drive ahead of me ONE WAY. Woe is me …

The day job is pissing me off, too – people are ruder than ever; a secretary who is the bane of our very existence has caused all kinds of problems with my staff in her rude, condescending and offensive way. Besides all the other unexpected projects we’re working on, two semi-planned and one unplanned major projects all kick off this month. Of all times to go on vacation, I had to choose THIS one. You can imagine how comfortable I feel with THAT.

One bright spot, by the way – another one of my articles was accepted for magazine for my industry (my second). They’ll publish in December, I believe. No money, but it keeps my name “out there.” Good to see I’m still productive THAT way….

Okay, so now I’m an expert on plumbing, painting and electrical work. The long lists of things I’ve done this last week and a half: in the powder room, I replaced the faucets, drain, lighting fixture and hung a new mirror and picture; in the guest bedroom, we hung new Roman shades; in the guest bathroom, I stained the cabinets (on purpose), primed and painted the whole room, regrouted where the paint stained it, replaced the faucets and drains in both sinks, replaced the medicine cabinets, installed the mirror and hung the shower curtain rod. Then there was all the cleaning involved.

Leia’s been doing a lot of the decorating and handling the staining of the guest bathroom drawers and doors. She gets very frustrated (very easily), so it doesn’t take long for her to end up in tears of frustration. This, and we have other things to do (like install the curtain rod in the master bedroom, clean the cabana and bathroom, clean the rest of the house). (My parents’ anniversary is Wednesday night and I will be there – and Thursday night, we’re seeing Penn and Teller at the Rio. We drive home Friday, clean again and then pick up my parents for a two week stay here.)

Two points of interest … first, we were very pleased with the Miracle Method that was done in the guest bathroom. The place looks brand new! Only a few places need to be touched up (either places they missed or places I messed up with the installation of the drains). I completely recommend that to anyone who wants to redo a bathroom at a low cost.

The other point of interest … the joy of taking out drains with very old (and very corroded) piping. My one stupid decision was to not remove the old drains before the MM people came. Naturally, when I had to pull out the old ones, I broke the acrylic seal in the sink. It’s a minor imperfection, but truly noticeable. However, getting out those drains was impossible with pipe wrenches, especially trying to be careful with the sink surface. I ended up buying a hacksaw and cut through the drain pipe to remove the old works. Installing the new ones took about an hour; removing the old ones took about six hours!

Many lessons learning in this construction project, most already mentioned. Most important of all – hire people who are more skilled than you are if you are either in a crunch for time or want the job done properly. We have to accept our limitations in this world and just use the right “tool” for the right job.

Painfully yours, from this Hill to your own,
Michael.

Crunch Time

2006-09-24T07:42:00.001-07:00

Throughout my professional career, I’ve experienced times where I’ve just wanted to walk away from everything and start anew. I suppose I’m not unique in that regard. I guess at one time or another, everyone indulges in the fantasy of telling his or her boss to shove it and quit. If truth be told, I bet therapists would posit that such an outlet for one’s frustrations is healthy, certainly healthier than giving up and crawling into an emotional hole.

I’ve had one of those months so far this September. It seems that everyone in my office is on edge of snapping heads off at the slightest provocation. It’s just not my staff that is acting that way this time. In fact, I think that compared to other times, my staff has been pretty docile and sticking with the program (with some notable exceptions, of course, which is a constant challenge to my manager skills). No, it’s our user base that has been surly in the morning and surly in the evening. I don’t know how many calls I got this week alone which started out “I’m calling to complain about …” and the list of complaints range from my people to the vendors’ products that occasionally fail us to technology as a whole.

Most people think I’m pretty easy-going and I am most of the time. However, I do have an emotional streak that can be tapped under the right circumstances – I think I get it honestly; between my father’s hair trigger when I was growing up and my Italian heritage, it’s a wonder I’m lot more reactive to these work issues. Luckily, time is a great teacher for those who pay attention to the lessons and I did learn long ago that in business, frequent emotional outbursts are eventually ignored. If you want to make an impression, save them for when they’re really needed. I guess the same can be said for the F bomb, but that’s a topic for another day.

So, between my lost love affair with my day job, the disappointment of the screenplay that never will be (at least in its current form) and the lack of time to write due to the construction crunch going on here at the Villa, I’m more on edge lately than usual. We go out of town next week and all of this remodeling we’re doing needs to be put to bed before we hit the road. What that means – work all day, work all night. Between you and me, I would rather hire someone for even the simplest jobs, but Leia and her constant eye on the bottom line would never allow it.

The patchers spent three days here filling in the holes made by the repipers inside and out. They did a reasonable job – not the best attention to detail, including random spackle blots here and there, but well enough for me to do my part this weekend.

All week long, Leia has been in a battle in the guest bathroom, armed with a sander in one hand and a vacuum in the other. As is always the case with all of us, the remodeling of that room was a much larger project than she anticipated. God love HGTV! They make everything look SO easy, certainly easy enough to complete three day projects in a 30 minute segment.
Yesterday was mine turn to get down and dirty (I refuse to do so during the week since I have a day job which sucks the life out of me). First, I used TSP-PF (an oxymoron) to clean the walls in the study and guest room closets, the powder room and the cabana. I then laid down a solid coat of primer in each of those areas and let it dry for the finish coat. I then set out to do the exterior priming over the stucco patches that were put on. Stucco isn’t a lot of fun to paint over, but I think I did a good job for a first coat of primer (a second coat will probably be needed).

While I was doing all that, Leia was in the guest bathroom, sanding and vacuuming, vacuuming and sanding, rarely taking more than a moment’s break. Better her than me! The only think worst than painting is sanding, I think.

Today, she’s back in that room while I’m out continuing the painting projects begun yesterday. Then I have to patch, clean and prime the spot in the kitchen that was opened and finally move to the big job in the master bathroom (more cleaning and priming there). I suspect that sometime today, I’ll have to hang the new curtain rods we bought.’

The rest of the week looks like this: complete all finish coats inside and out, put in the new faucets in the powder room and guest bathroom, replace the light fixture in the powder room and install the new medicine cabinets and mirror in the guest bathroom. Leia will have to stain the cabinets in the guest bathroom and prime / paint the walls in the guest bathroom. Most of this has to be done before the Miracle Method people arrive on Thursday. Supposedly they’ll be done by Friday and then we have the rest of the weekend to finish the odds and ends (including cleanup).

So – with a brief bit of hope that all will go well in my heart and a heedful of life lessons that tells me otherwise, I close this week’s blog entry and step into the breach. God help me and mine in our hour of need.

From the construction zone on the Hilla to yours,
Michael

Adventures in Plumbing

2006-09-17T10:24:00.001-07:00

This past week was hellish and for many reasons. My day job continues to weigh heavily on my patience and overall energy – it more than just the same old grind, it has to do with being pushed to get too much done at once (for no apparent reason) and all the poor planning that comes in behind it.

Even my boss is near the end of her rope. She confessed to me the other day that she dumped on one of her bosses, talking to him for over 90 minutes about all the things that need to be fixed in our company. Mind you, my boss is a very laid back person and it takes an awful lot to get her riled up. So when I see the fire in her eyes as she relayed this to me, I realize it’s just not me – but what to do about it?

So, exhausted with the constant griping and complaining of those my department services (most of which is unfair or at least, uninformed), I try to maintain my normally cheery disposition at home. Except, of course, this week was repiping week at the Villa. Here’s that tale.

The repiping company showed up on time on Thursday, the only day in months that it rained up here. NATURALLY!. They laid out all their already dirty floor covering, but Leia would have none of it. Instead, she rolled out the carpet covering we bought before the movers came and the crew had to roll that out before starting.

All day long, I got reports from Leia on their progress …. at one point she IMed me to find out how to turn off the fire alarm before they started using their acetylene torches. Oh boy, that was a little nerve-wracking (I’m sure) for Leia! Thankfully, all was completed without incident and the building inspector was scheduled for Friday.

In the morning, I noticed that there was a lot of water on the master bathroom floor near the showed, but I presumed it was left over from the day before and never cleaned up. Wrong assumption, I’d say. The inspector shows up later on and tells Leia everything passes inspection, but she’d better do something about the leak in the bathroom. Leia calls the repiping company and they showed up later in the day to repair it.

When I get home, I start on my own plumbing project – my first without guidance in a long time. Replacing a kitchen faucet may not seem to be too difficult, but I admit I’m quite unhandy around the house – I’m great with computers, I’m passable as a writer, but my days of doing repairs (vs. hiring someone to do them), I thought, were behind me. Not in Leia’s world!

Well, the instructions that came with the faucet had no words, but instead it was all pictures – drawn pictures, not photographs. In some cases, it wasn’t very obvious what the objects illustrated were supposed to be compared to the parts they provided. I eventually figured it out and almost completed the assembly when I suddenly discovered that I forgot to include a piece I should’ve used at the very beginning (thanks to no words, I didn’t see that until late in the game). I had to take the whole thing apart and start over again. The good news: the second assembly went much faster now that I knew where all the parts went and how they fit!

Saturday (yesterday) comes and we had the repiping guys scheduled to come back in to fix the problem with the washer that Leia discovered Friday night. The main plumber comes and shows me that the screens on the old washer hoses were just clogged with slag and really need to be replaced. He recommended steel flex hoses and left the old ones off at my request.
I ran out to the hardware store and soon was home with the hoses and all kinds of tools to help me to do all the plumbing work still on my “honey do” list.

It didn’t take long for me to hook up the hoses and test the water in the laundry room. I was shocked to find that water spewed from old pipes on the hot and cold sides! I showed Leia and asked her to get a hold of the main plumber to let him know. My darling wife did as I requested (and also called the main repiping number as I requested). I talked to the plumber who asked me some questions and then said he’d be right over.

Sure enough, he was there in 15 minutes. I showed him what I did and suddenly, he throws up his hands and said you hooked the new supply lines on the old pipes, not the washer – D’oh!!! I can’t believe I was so stupid – nor could he. This normally mild-mannered fellow was so pissed off, he almost stormed out of the house, with me apologizing all the way down the hall, telling him I’d never call them for something so dumb again. Unfortunately, something tells me I didn’t make a friend yesterday. I showed Leia what I had done and she “got it,” then, too.

Now, I pride myself on being smart – hey, I’m in Mensa after all – but this was one of the most idiotic things I’ve ever done in my adult life. The plumber said in anger as he was leaving that his company is going to be on his ass for all these problems and I assured him I’d call – and I did, fully taking the blame for this issue. Oy!

I was in a foul mood the rest of the day, especially since it took two hours to pull out the old faucet in the powder room. I said I wasn’t a handyman, for God’s sake! Anyway, I have three more faucets to install and painting where the patcher works next week.

Now Leia has the bright idea (no pun intended) that I can replace the light fixtures in the bathrooms, too … oh boy, I look forward to that! Water may not kill me, but electricity will, sure as I’m sitting here.

Hope your coming week is less shocking on your Hill.

Michael.

View from the Villa

2006-09-14T09:29:00.001-07:00

The Lord Giveth With One Hand …

2006-09-10T09:42:00.001-07:00

I don’t believe in jinxes. There isn’t a superstitious bone in my body. I also strongly doubt claims of extrasensory perception, remote viewing or any of those phenomena. I’m not given to paranoid fears or conspiracy theories. Pretty much, I’m grounded in the here and now, the realities of the moment. Then, will someone please explain to me what happened with my screenplay???

Thursday night, I was watching TV and there was a trailer for some movie. Nowadays, the movie’s website address is displayed below the credits. That gave me the idea to see of the domain name for my screenplay was available. A quick search of GoDaddy.com revealed that not only was the domain reserved back in June 2005, but Fox Films was the registrant … uh oh!

My darling Leia was quickly on the case and soon emailed me several links all related to an announcement in December 2005 of a new movie that was pitched and had attached a very popular actor – and it was entitled the same as mine! Not only that – the plot line was uncannily similar (though not exactly the same) as mine. Talk about a kick in the groin!

Here I am, I have an option agreement in hand for a script I KNOW I wrote (and didn’t steal from anyone) – and now I see that one of the major film companies is planning to make this near-same movie in 2007. Why me? Why? This was my “big break” in this writing business. An optioned screenplay could open up a lot of doors for me – the money wasn’t even material, it’s all about street cred in this industry.

The chronology of Fox’s movie and mine clearly shows that this was a strange coincidence – they didn’t rip me off and I know I didn’t do that to them. I conceived of my idea mid-August 2005 (I woke up one Saturday morning with this idea in my head … pitched it to my wife, who thought it was highly marketable). It took me only a few days to write up the treatment and less than a month to finish the first draft of the script. By the end of September, I had finished the second and third drafts, than gave it to Leia to edit. She didn’t even start until November … and then never finished. I took over that edit and finished it in February 2006 and posted it on inktip.com the same month.

Fox’s domain was registered in June 2005 – obviously, they had at least a log line (and probably a treatment) earlier than that. From what I’ve been able to gather, this was strictly an internal development. And, of course, they announce theirs right before I post mine. What at the freakin’ odds!!!????

Well, I talked to my attorney – who ironically just finished comments on my option agreement – and he advised me to let the production company know what happened. I sent them an email on Friday and spoke to them yesterday (Saturday). As expected, they’re much less enthusiastic about the project than they were. What seemed to be a wholly unique idea now has major competition. Without exactly saying so, I think they’re going to walk away from this screenplay … and my chances to break in.

I hold no grudge against the producer and director. They both genuinely seem to be nice, sincere people. However, this is a tough business and their production company is new. Why would they take on one of the major film companies when they want to establish themselves as a solid entity in this industry?

C’est la vie … except it’s my “vie” that’s being affected the most. Anyway, I plan to revise my script enough to accentuate the uniqueness (now) from this pretender to my “throne” … okay, I’m getting a little carried away with myself. No more whine with this cheese…

Meanwhile, on the hill, there’s a lot going on. I thought that the water was looking much better since they installed the water softener. However, in our study to determine how we’re going to get the guest bathroom ready for my parents’ visit in October, we discovered a couple of issues. First, the water that ran out of that tub was brown – not tinged, but sediment-filled – and didn’t clear up during the time we ran it. The other interesting thing … the water started off hot, then went cold pretty quickly, as did the water from that bathroom’s sinks. HOWEVER, the water in the kitchen and other rooms remained hot (while the guest bathroom’s taps spewed only cold). That eliminated problems with the hot water heater.

We decided to bring in a plumber on our home warranty to solve this puzzle. Unfortunately, we ended up with a poor man’s version of Inspector Clouseau – and an Armenian one at that! I even had to get my Armenian friend to translate for me with this guy while on the phone at work; my friend’s conclusion was the plumber was an idiot in ANY language.

With no other recourse, I made a command decision to go forward with the repiping. We chose an outfit that had the best BBB ratings of the three – and letters from their previous customers were absolutely glowing. Sure they were …

They had an opening for yesterday (Saturday) and according to their plan, they’d finish everything but the patching. On Monday, the inspector would come and once we got the word that the holes could be patched, the patcher would come in. The plan was to bring Miracle Method in right after that and get paint to cover the stucco and walls where the repipers made holes.

So much for theory … in reality, the repipers came over. We cleared out closets to give them access to the pipes. Holes started being cut in stucco. The hot water heater – we decided to replace it anyway – was already being worked on. THEN the foreman comes to us to say that because the boss on the job had to leave at 1:30 and they were down one other crew member; they would have to do some of the work this weekend and finish next weekend. Now we’re looking at extended this whole “remodel” closer to the end of the month.

Leia was fit to be tied! She was soon on the phone with the company schedulers to register her dissatisfaction and rightfully so. If they had told us that they wouldn’t have been able to finish the job in one day as they told us they would, we would’ve easily gone to another company. I’m guessing they couldn’t stand to lose the business, so they made a big show of it when they got here, knowing full well what was going to happen. Idiots, all of them!

In the end, we told them to leave and to come back when they can do the job right. Right now, we’re scheduled to get them back here on Thursday of this week. That means that the Miracle Method people will be able to work the Thursday after. At the same time, we can get paint made for patching purposes. Grrrrrr … how I hate contractors!

We hope events on your Hill have been more pleasant than on ours this week …

Michael

Little Armenia

2006-09-03T12:43:00.001-07:00

The option for my screenplay is closer to reality after this week. I met with the director Ian) and his wife (Susan), the producer, over coffee at Starbuck’s one night. She called me at my office to arrange it – they both had a gap in their schedule and at least wanted to get this initial meeting done before the holiday weekend.

They are both very nice, down-to-earth people. I was flattered when they both told me how much they liked my script – especially Susan! That was important to me because I wrote the script to really make the female lead the heroine even though the plot concentrated on the two male leads. After coffee and some chit chat, we got down to business. Their production company is interested in pitching the script to the studios to get big dollars behind it. At the same time, they’re going to pitch it to actors they know and see if they can get them attached or at least interested.

Ian told me there were a couple of major changes to the script he wanted and some small tweaks here and there. What he proposed wasn’t unreasonable and I’m amenable to making the changes. With that said, he brought out a provisional agreement for me to review. He told me to go ahead and have my lawyer look it over, make suggestions and then we’ll meet again to sign the final agreement.

On Friday, I had to scramble around to find an entertainment lawyer that would look this agreement over for me. I got a referral from a referral of someone I know well, called him and we worked out the arrangements over the phone. Hopefully, we’ll have a contract that’s good to sign before next Friday. Then the fun will start! If it’s a go, then I plan to launch a separate blog to track the trials and tribulations of a new screenwriter in Hollywood.

It’s a well known fact, at least in Southern California, that Glendale has the largest Armenian community in the United States and probably anywhere (save for Armenia itself). As part of our contractor estimate process, a friend of mine – Armenian, of course – brought over three close friends of his, all Armenian, to review what Leia has in mind for construction projects throughout the villa. The first location to be worked on is the guest bathroom. My parents come out in October and we want that room to be done at least.

The Armenians took measurements, made suggestions and then after an hour or so, they left with the instruction to Leia to type of her list of things she wanted them to do, a materials list so they could purchase it for us and then they’ll be ready to start. They’ve been given three weeks to complete this project and I’m not confident at all that it will be done when expected. It just seems like too much to do in the best of circumstances in such a short timeframe.

We learned something very interesting at the paint store yesterday. Based on our description of the existing paint condition in the bathroom (and other locations), we’ve discovered that the seller probably slapped latex paint over oil-based paint just to get it sold. When you do that, the latex paint eventually just peels off. You really need to put oil-based paint over oil-based paint or strip off all paint and prime / paint on the bare surface. Now we have to figure out how best to confirm this theory and then choose the right sheen for the bathroom since we have the shade identified.

Meanwhile, I hear Leia grunting and swearing in that bathroom as she labors to remove the doors from their hinges. Her role in this project is to sand the drawers and doors so that only the grain is showing. We picked out some same stain yesterday and chose what we think will be the color of this room when we’re ready to paint it. Frankly, I’d much prefer that we hire the contractors to do all the tasks Leia decided to take on herself, but she’s insistent – she has that DIY attitude from watching all those HGTV shows. I’m guessing they edit out the swearing and grunting on those programs.

One thing about being a tech manager by day and a writer by night … your time you have to devote to manly chores around the house is somewhat lacking. If one were to look at today’s scene, it would look like I just kick back and type while my poor wife is forced to do “man’s” work. I do admit I feel a bit of guilt in that (even though she insists it’s what she wants to do and whenever I offer to help, she snaps at me to stop watching her). I don’t have the heart / stomach / guts to tell her the Armenians won’t do a thing until she lays out their task list. I learned a long time ago to not try to run everything as my base nature dictates.

Forced to retreat into my office – it’s too hot outside today for even a brief outing – I slave away at this hot laptop. I have been given the green light to write an article for a technology magazine I’ve already written for. My other writing assignments – finishing a short story I started when back east, finishing the detailed outline of my second screenplay and writing up a treatment of a reality show that Leia and I are submitting in a contest – have to take a back seat. I’ll do my own cussing and grunting over these, trust me.

From our villa to yours,
Michael.

Everybody Loves a Parade?

2006-08-26T11:27:00.001-07:00

Strange few days since my last post, I have to admit. At the office – or as some wags refer to it, the “orifice” – I spent a couple of very long days in training. This is something we don’t usually have to endure as, well, to be blunt, we’re too freakin’ busy! I have to admit, though, that the class was very good for achieving what was intended. Unfortunately, my head wasn’t completely in the game.

Earlier in the week, I came home from work to find a movie producer regarding my screenplay! Wha-??????? I have to listen to the message two or three times before it finally sunk in. Someone in the “industry” likes my work! Leia and I were ecstatic at the news.

I called the woman the next morning and she told me that her husband, a known director with some great credentials, wanted to talk to me about make the film. She would have him call me at home that night. Sure enough, I spoke to Ian (pseudonym- if I mentioned his credits, you’d know of them, not necessarily him) and he asked me to go into his office next week to meet with him to talk about his ideas for the picture. Ian added that if we come to some agreement, he’d like to option the script and have me do the rewrites.

Suddenly, I find myself scrambling around to all my friends, trying to find someone in Hollywood I can talk to in order to get a handle on what I need to worry about. Luckily, a friend of mine is “connected” with some inside folks and hooked me up with one. I spoke to this writer/producer (let’s call him Joe) last night. He gave me some very good advice about options, what to look out for, etc. Joe was kind enough to offer to use his name in my conversations with this director, referring to him a someone with whom I was consulting on this whole transaction.

You can imagine, all of this seems a little surreal to me. This is my very first screenplay that I’ve ever written. I’ve never taken a class on it, though I did read Lew Hunter’s classic book on the subject. It comes as no surprise that I’ve suddenly become motivated to finish script #2 and I’ve been busily writing scene outlines since I spoke to the director the other day.

Meanwhile, the parade of contractors continues to march before Leia on the Hill. We engaged a water softener company, as our current readings show our water to be two times that of what is considered to be “hard.” And this is water from the city supply!

Leia also got quotes from a paving company to redo the driveway, garage floor and back hardscape. The price wasn’t as bad as we thought it would be, but we want to get some competing quotes anyway. This work won’t be done until late this year.

Then there was the porcelain refurbish place. They came in and assessed the work to be done in the guest bathroom – without the pipes in this case. Again, the price was reasonable. Leia now has to go back to the re-piping place and get a quote to do their work just in that bathroom instead of the whole house.
Meanwhile, we’re still waiting for the sprinkler guy to come back and do his next job, that is, to replace the galvanized pipe in the front yard. He told he’s just show up one day, so I hope he actually remembers to do that!

Weasel is on patrol constantly these days, seemingly for lizards or maybe snakes. She will lay on her stomach, head resting on extended paws, waiting for the objects of her attention to appear. I’ve told Leia many times that she’s waiting for hallucinations – basically, “She’s not well.” As I write that line, she comes into view, just staring out at an imaginary something or other.

Dear me, we have deer. One night this week, I opened the front door to get the mail and startled – as well as was startled – by a doe and a fawn standing in the driveway. They weren’t scared enough to run, at least not right away. I had to make a lot of noise to finally set them galloping down the street. The next thing we know, we see our two deer and two other capering about on the woodsy hill across the way. One of the deer just lay down and looked in our direction as we were doing in hers. It’s still amazing about how close we are to the city and yet so close to wildlife, too.

Okay, it’s Saturday and there’s-a chores to be a-gittin to. With any luck, I’ll be able to report I’m a writer with an optioned script. With any luck, a few years down the road, I’ll be able to write for a living for real!

From the Villa on the Hilla to yours,
Michael.

Sunrise

2006-08-19T07:58:00.001-07:00

It’s Saturday. I’ve been up since 4am, having woken up a bit thirsty and with a minor case of indigestion from some hot peppers I ate with dinner last night. Hot peppers are one of my weaknesses, having grown up in an Italian household. Americans have their ketchup as a condiment, but good Italians have some sort of hot pepper on the table. I’ve seen family arguments break out because someone forgot to bring out the peppers!

As I sit in my study to write today’s blog post, I’m constantly distracted by how beautiful the mountains to the west look with the newly risen sun shining brightly on them. These hills are truly a gift for us. They are etched with deep gullies and switchbacks, making for incredibly lovely shadows and other tricks of light. There are several meandering strings of white houses that are draped across the face of the closest peak, providing us with an almost Mediterranean ambience. I look across the valley and wonder if Greece will give me the same feeling some day.

Speaking of Greece, a friend of mine just got back from three weeks in Italy and Greece. Aaron, who is originally from Armenia, also works for me as a contractor and just happens to live in the same community that we do. On our rides back here after work, he’s been regaling me with tales from both countries in the hopes that I’ll be motivated to go. Trust me, we’re motivated, but right now, time is a problem!

Our resident doe made a rare appearance the other day. Leia was sitting at the breakfast nook, working on her computer, when she looks up to see a deer eating out of our flower bed in the front yard. She hurried to get the camera and was pleasantly surprised to find the deer was still grazing and only barely noticed her. After a few inside snapshots, Leia went outside to shoo her away. At first, Doe wasn’t in much of a hurry to get a move on, but eventually took off up the hill behind our house. Leia was able to grab a good shot of the deer standing on the hill, looking askance at her before bolting out of sight.

Have I said how much I love our house lately?

It’s expected to be over 100 degrees this weekend, so I suspect that it will just be two days chock full of tropical drinks and naps in or around the pool. There are a few chores we need to catch up on, including moving some furniture, hanging some pictures and such. Thankfully, nothing major is on the agenda.

On Monday, we’re bringing in a guy who resurfaces porcelain bathtubs to look at our guest bathroom and give us an estimate for that work. That’s one option we’re considering for that room. We’re also planning to get an estimate from some place that guarantees a bathroom remodel in a week. Now THAT I would like to see! Contractors aren’t exactly known for their ability to meet target dates.

The sprinkler guys came this week to try to repair the leaky galvanized pipe in the front yard. Even though most of the leak was resolved and a new sprinkler put in at that location, he advised me that he should really place the entire length of old pipe to really do it right. There are probably other small leaks elsewhere in that run which is keeping our water pressure down for the rest of the sprinklers in that area (not to mention the expense of wasted water!). I gave him the okay to go ahead and do the job right. The second phase of the job – installing enough sprinklers around the outer perimeter of the property – will be a much larger expense, but until I see how his work is on this smaller job, I’m not willing to give him that contract.

Sorry for the short posting today. I suspect the next time, I’ll have plenty to write about as we should have hired a contractor for the guest bathroom by then.

From our hill to yours,
Michael.

It Smells Like Football!

2006-08-10T20:09:00.001-07:00

Okay, I have to admit that I’m not your typical guy when it comes to all sports, all the time. There are times of year that certain games are exciting to watch – usually during playoffs – but as for living, eating and breathing sports 24/7, those days were over for me in high school. Then there was last season …

I remember it well. It was a Sunday afternoon last fall and I was stuck in the apartment with nothing interesting to do, flipping channels. At some point, I stopped switching to watch a few minutes of a Colts game. Well, a few minutes turned into a regular marathon of football viewing as that game melted into a later game that went into the early evening. Thankfully, I have a wife who doesn’t nag me about anything (TV watching included) … she just finds her own thing to do and works around my schedule.

So, one Sunday evening turned into the next Sunday evening, followed by yet another. Before long, I was planning my weekend chores around the start of the football game of choice. THEN I started watching the Saturday college games, though I limited myself to one game on those days so I wouldn’t just be a couch potato.

Now, here I am, football preseason has just begun and I had to force myself to turn off the TV so I wouldn’t be sucked into a night game – at least for now. One of the primary motivators for getting the behemoth television before fall was to have the proper venue to take in the coming fall season’s best games. My dad, certainly more of a sports fan than I, is expected out in October and I wanted to have the best equipment for our TV viewing pleasure.

We men are easily pleased.

The Hill’s first remodeling project is in its early stages. Leia brought in a contractor to give us an estimate on replacing our galvanized pipe with copper ones. We have a whole lot of corrosion in our pipes and have to run the tap water for quite a while until it flows clear. Even with that, the old tub and toilets we adopted are very stained from the minerals that exit the pipes.

My wife also went to talk to a local contractor who designs bathrooms and kitchens about the pipe job we plan to do and how we may need to address remodeling the guest bathroom. That room is the worst of all rooms in the house – the tub/shower and sinks need to be replaced just because of their age and the wear and tear on fixtures. This rooms needs to be finished before the family comes out in October. The question is should it all be done at once? What about the master bathroom and powder room?

The estimate from the first guy wasn’t too bad, but we have to bring the second guy in to give us a quote. There’s another repiping company not too far from us, too, so Leia wants to bring them in to give us their estimate. With any luck, we’ll have an integrated game plan all mapped out and ready for action within the next couple of weeks.

Stay tuned for the decision and the layout of The Plan!

From our Hill to yours,
Michael

All Tuckered Out

2006-08-06T13:53:00.001-07:00

Have you ever known a TV network to make a bone-headed program change and it impacts you in some way? Maybe you had a whole ritual revolving around the show’s regular recurring airing or even something so minor as it messes up your Tivo programming, I don’t know, but whatever it is it annoys the heck out of you? I’m happy to say that I don’t have many regular shows I watch anymore that I can live without.

The top two for me – The Sopranos, The Apprentice and The Simpsons – aren’t on or are in repeats for large periods throughout the year, so I can devote my requisite hour for watching each, make those times sacrosanct, and I can get on with my normal business. Of course, there are other programs I’d like to watch now and then (Jeopardy, for example), but if I miss it, so what, it’ll be new the next night or the next week.

I didn’t realize how much I’d miss Tucker Carlson on MSNBC when they moved him to much earlier times than work for me on the west coast. Tucker used to be on at 8:00 PM, which worked perfectly because our normally late dinners would be over by then and I was ready to settle down to watch some pretty cutting edge news and commentary. If I’d miss him one night, no big deal, I could catch a fresh show the next time.

Now at 8:00 PM, Monday through Thursday, I find myself flipping channels for anything closely resembling Carlson’s unique slant on the current news stories of the day. A self-proclaimed conservative (and proud of it), he frequently shows his equally strong libertarian side at the same time. These two philosophies have more in common than first meets the eye.

I admit that when I initially started watching Tucker’s show, I was put off by his seeming disregard for opposing viewpoints, making those in the Democratic Party (and those subscribing to their tenets) the regular target for his barbed retorts. As the Bush administration’s flawed foreign policy began to become more and more an embarrassment to his party, Tucker was one of the first conservatives to come out AGAINST the executive office’s insistence on miring us further into a war with no apparent end. For that, Carlson gained my respect and even though I didn’t always agree with him and still cringed a little whenever I saw he purposely brought in incredibly week apologists for the Democrats so he could intellectually pummel them, I still looked forward to his broadcast every night. And now that has been taken from me, too. I think it’s a political plot, though I can’t figure out which party is behind it.

Weekend on the Hill, always a challenge to figure out what I will (or won’t do) to improve the grounds surrounding the Villa or the contents therein. Frankly, it’s hard to summon the energy sometimes after a week doing battle with disgruntled end users at the company I work at. Even though I push a (proverbial) pencil every day and joke about management’s lack of added value to an organization – or as Pogo said, “I have met the enemy and he is us” – the stress of management tech support really does take a lot out of one. I find myself wishing more and more for three-day weekends to be a monthly occurrence, not just seasonal rarity.
Weasel has taken to getting up on the cabana sofa, thanks to our allowing her up there once when we were enjoying a seasonably cool evening this past week. Every time we catch her up there, we shoo her off, then make loud noises and gestures in the vain attempt at getting through to her canine brain that taking such liberties isn’t allowed. It’s out fault, though, that much is certain. Pet people really indulge their animals and it’s no surprised that Weezy (as I sometimes call her) doesn’t take advantage of that.

Even though I swear Weasel is smarter than most dogs I’ve known, she does these things that make no sense sometimes and I can only explain it that she’s “not well” in the head. This morning, for instance, we look outside to see her laying down in the rock garden, little pebbles poking into her soft underbelly. Other than an attempt at self-flagellation for getting up on the couch earlier, we could not understand what could be in her pointed little head.

And so, I’ll close this entry and do some yard work, but just enough to make it seem like I’m ambitious. I don’t know who I’m trying to impress, though – an addled semi-beagle who is on the brink of Alzheimer’s?

Here’s to more energy by sunrise,
Michael.

Regrouping

2006-08-03T22:09:00.001-07:00

Returning to the office, it took a few days to get acclimated again … as I wrote already, upright against the torrents. I realize that the grass is always greener, but writing for a living full time would be a lot more fun than being set upon by computer users who are unhappy about this or that aspect of their technology. I always am amazed to read people’s stories as they gush about how much they love their jobs – or from the so-called career coaches who insist you must be happy in your job to be truly happy. No one wants to address what most of us know – we either fell into our careers or they evolved into this thing that we dread participating in or we actually chose it on purpose for reasons beyond personal choice and find out we hate it (and yet we’re committed to it until retirement or death).

Speaking of death – ha, bad segue – let me comment on my least favorite commercial establishment of all time. In fact, the very name itself invokes great fear in me because I see myself stuck in an endless spiral of home furnishings while at the same time, the faint smell of Swedish meatballs and lingonberries waft up from three floors below. Yes, I’m talking about Ikea – or Ick-ea, as I like to call it. I am so thankful that our villa isn’t an Ick-ea house. We’ve only gone there once since we moved in and that was to purchase some odds and ends, nothing more than that.

Why do I hate Ikea? Ask any guy and he’ll tell you the same thing. It’s such a CHICK place! Not like in a shoe store or some place like Sephora where you’re surrounded by beauty supplies. Those types of places are mostly one floor and a few aisles – how much time can a woman spend in there? However, Ikea is another story … three or more floors and thousands of square feet of shopping space. You walk in there and you are more or less forced to follow the same path around and around and around, almost like a cattle drive at a merry-go-round. And God forbid if you DON’T follow the arrows – everybody, customers and employees alike, look at you like you grew a third limb or second head. If you’re an iconoclast, watch out when you enter Ick-ea!

The only thing that makes the store tolerable is how they name their products. Either someone has an odd sense of humor or the Swedes actually talk this way! My favorite names are those with many diacritical marks or sound funny when pronounced. To make the time there passable, I’ll walk around with my wife and give things my own Swedish-sounding names … gern … fumph … flure …

Unlike me, my wife takes her Ikea experience very seriously and has actually gotten angry at me for clowning around in Ikea (in this case, the only clowning I really do is read the product names aloud and laugh – they sound funny!). However, she’ll give me that “look” like I’m five years old and acting up in public. Okay, maybe I’m acting a little younger than my years, but it’s all clean fun!

Actually, one of my favorite scenes is in an episode of The Simpsons when the cartoon family goes into an Ikea-like store, complete with the Swedish-sounding products. When I’m really bumming about being in Ikea, I recollect that scene. It’s always good for a chuckle, though I dare not be too loud or I’ll incur the wrath of Ikea Wife.

Work on the Hill begins in earnest this weekend. We have a growing laundry list of things that need to be done by Leia and me, followed any number of outside contractors, a list more daunting than anything we can invent for ourselves.

One of the first projects to undertake is to replace the broken sprinklers that surround our property and to increase the number of sprinklers to cover more of the landscaping. The coax cable that throughout the house for the TV signal needs to be upgraded so that eventually we can run HDTV here. Our copper and galvanized pipes need to be replaced because we have a constant rusty water problem in our plumbing. We don’t drink water from the tap, but we do use it for other things.

Come October, we expect to resurface the pool, redo the hardscape around the pool, remodel the garage (adding cabinets and installing a real floor) and replacing the asphalt in the driveway with stone or pavers. Once that’s done, we’ll probably retool the landscaping complete, perhaps planting some palm or fruit trees.

All in all, we have a lot on our plate here on the Hill. I plan to chronicle each major project and mix in some real life observations, too. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy the ride the months to follow.

For now, from our Hill to yours,
Michael

Rain Gods

2006-07-30T11:11:00.001-07:00

Back on the Hill at last … arrived last night earlier than expected (shout-out to Southwest and crew, especially Peter in Hartford who went the extra mile to secure us two seats on the earlier plane to Los Angeles). We went out to our favorite Italian restaurant after we unpacked (Leia to Michael: “You STILL want Italian food after being at your mother’s all week?”). As we’re getting in the car, my dear wife observes it’s starting to rain, a rarity in Southern California.

That would make all four tour stops also rain stops – Chicago, Indiana, New York and Los Angeles. Leia and I joked about our new status of “rain gods” since apparently the dark clouds follow us everywhere we go – that is, those in a literal sense. Hopefully, our company isn’t considered a “dark cloud” or a lot of trouble could’ve been saved everyone if we just stayed here in the first place!

Getting back into the swing of things after being away so long is kind of a pain. That’s why I made sure we returned on a Saturday to give us all day Sunday to decompress and catch up with bills and work issues. At the office, I get about 100 emails per week day (and about 50 on the weekends in total).

Right now, in my inbox, sits about a dozen problems / projects that need my attention or at least a follow-up. To help Leia understand the feeling about how getting back from vacation is so painful, I liken it to trying to get back into a rushing stream after being out of it long enough to forget how to stand straight against the torrents. At first, you feel like you’re about to get overwhelmed, then you eventually find your footing, and finally you’re back upright again like you never left it.

All in all, this was a nice vacation, but it was hardly a “vacation” in the true sense where I was able to get away from everything for a week. I guess it’s my fault, actually … I take my Blackberry with me everywhere I go and my cell phone is always at the ready as well.

My mom’s already making noise about us going back to New York next year (to her, it’s a fait accompli), while returning to my hometown is hardly a cause for excitement to me. Since the folks are coming out here this October and we’re all going on a family reunion cruise next August, I don’t see a reason to return to a town I wish I never saw again in 2007. There’s just something about that place that brings me doooowwwwwwwwnnnnn ….

We pick up Weasel tomorrow and both of us are looking for to it. We miss the little mutt. As is her custom, I’m sure she’ll give Leia holy hell when she sees her at the kennel (“Mama, how could you leave me here?”) and I’ll get the same treatment when I see her tomorrow night. Pets are like kids, I tell you.

They announced the Scriptapalooza screenplay contest quarterfinalists and I wasn’t in that group. I’m more disappointed than with the other one only because I didn’t get any feedback at all. At least the BlueCat people make it a point to give input to all contestants. I don’t know, maybe there will be something like that from the Scriptapalooza folks, but I’m not holding my breath. In any case, one project that has risen to the top of my list – revising my script and resubmitting it to Inktip.com. I’ll be reporting that progress later.

On the plane back from Chicago, I had this sentence about shad fishing roaming through my head and as I often do, I just let my brain play with the phrasing until a story started to emerge. Before I was done, I had four written pages and spent part of the return trip home transposing it to my laptop. It has a decent beginning as a short story and if I continue the roll (as I call it), I may have something to submit to a short story competition held by the editors of Writers Digest magazine.

Okay, enough musings from my desk. We have work to do now. Glad to be back here and I’m looking forward to continuing reports from here.

Back on our Hill to yours,
Michael

It’s Not the Heat, It’s the Heat Index

2006-07-29T09:20:00.001-07:00

We’re still on our multi-city tour of the US. I’m sitting at my parents’ kitchen table, watching The Weather Channel. My dad sits across from me, nodding off for the first time today (yesterday I counted four times). I don’t need the TWC to know the weather in these parts – hot, humid and plain yucky. Meanwhile, I see that California remains in the grip of a heat wave that settled on the state a week ago and shows no signs of letting up. And some people don’t think global warming is real …

The “heat index” is a fairly new metric reported by the meteorologists. It’s essentially the summer’s equivalent of the wind chill factor and it’s supposed to show how heat and humidity combine in their effect on humans. Right now, the heat index here is 89 degrees – and the day is mostly overcast. If there was only a thunderstorm to break up the heavy air, we’d be much more comfortable.

To add to the discomfort, my parents don’t have an air conditioner anywhere in the house. Rather, they have several powerful fans strategically placed throughout their home (three of which are sitting in their bedroom which we are occupying during our visit). I’ll be honest, they barely make a difference at night, but thankfully, we’re fully supplied with Ambien for this trip. A few short cat naps during the day helps to keep me alert. Unfortunately, Leia isn’t much of a napper and she’s been having a more difficult time with the hot weather, as she runs hotter than the average person in the first place.

On a lark, I called the kennel yesterday to check on Weasel. The gal who answered the phone actually went back to look in on her and reported that there were no problems and greeted her with her “tail wagging like no other.” People who say pet owners indulge their animals have no idea how much the beasts become integrated into your life and daily existence. Weasel is 10 years old and in good shape, but some day, she will go to the Great Kennel in the Sky and it will be a major loss for both of us.

Meanwhile, the news has been reporting that Southern California continues to experience triple-digit temperatures, accompanied by a number of scattered wildfires. So far, our little villa on the hill has stood unmolested by nature’s fury and with any luck, it will remain intact until we return. There’s something about thinking your house could burn to the ground and you’re not even there to save it is kind of creepy.

So far during this trip, there hasn’t been a huge political disagreement between myself and my parents. While I’m no liberal, I don’t support the Bush administration at all, from their ham-fisted mess-up of the economy to their total hawkish intervention in the Middle East.

Next day …

We spent the day yesterday with my sister, three nephews and an aunt (my mother’s sister). Three boys – 12 and twins at 11 – can really wear out an old man, though I think I survived it mostly intact. We played catch with a baseball, but shifted to basketball at some point. The weather wasn’t very cooperative, though. During the entire afternoon, there were huge downpours followed by brief periods of clearing skies. It was during these breaks in the storms that we got in multiple games of HORSE and a one-on-one game with my godson (the twelve year-old). Between the rain and the sweat that resulted from exercising in 72% humidity, I was drenched by the time my mother called us to dinner.

Now we sit here in the Bradley International Airport in Hartford, CT, awaiting our flight to Chicago, and then winging back to LA. We were able to secure seats on an earlier connecting flight, so we won’t be pulling into the villa at midnight. I’ll be spending the day tomorrow catching up with almost two weeks of office work in time for a return to reality Monday morning. The blog will return to tales from the Hill early in the week.

From the friendly skies,
Michael

Kentuckiana

2006-07-22T20:10:00.001-07:00

Short post today … we’re currently on our multi-city tour throughout the US. I wish I could say I had book signings all over the country (and hence the reason for the trip), but visiting family is just as good.

Right now, we’re in an area of the America called “Kentuckiana,” the region that encompasses southern Indiana and northern Kentucky. Residents routinely traverse the bridges that span the might Ohio river to reach jobs, homes, stores and restaurants as though they were all part of the same neighborhood – hence the term. Try finding a similar place between New York and New Jersey!

Weather, we’ve had some weather! When I last posted, I described the problems we had getting from Chicago to Louisville, thanks to severe thunderstorms in the Midwest. Well, they apparently followed us because yesterday, the skies opened up and were accompanied by HUGE lightning bolts and almost deafening thunder claps! We don’t see that in So Cal, that’s for sure (though it would be fun to watch it from the safety of our house on the hill – once, though).

Food – how can I post without mentioning the food in this area? Leia and I took her family out to dinner at one of my favorite eating places last night, called Huber’s. A family restaurant, they have some of the best fried chicken and fresh fruit pies I’ve ever had. Being the pig that I am, I ordered the family platter (no, it’s not a platter that’s to feed an entire family), but rather, it’s a sampler meal of their best dishes. Unlike past visits, though, I was too full to order more free chicken, an option with this particular order. Needless to say, dinner was memorable (as was the dinner conversation) and all seemed happy for the experience. Humorous moment of the day: watching a middle-aged, zaftig man in shorts and t-shirt (me) running through a blinding rainstorm to get to the rental car that would take us back to my in-laws’ house.

People here are markedly different than those on the coasts. Southern hospitality still is the rule down here and for those of you who have never traveled to this part of the United States, you’re missing a part of our collective heritage. Here in Kentuckiana, waitresses greet you with a sincere smile and welcoming manner; hoteliers respond to valid complaints and do what needs to be done to resolve them (and without attitude).

This paean to old-fashioned people skills doesn’t mean we’re about to abandon the villa, even if my wife does have family here. Perhaps I’m at the age now we’re I’m going to start preceding every observation with the phrase “back in the old days,” but there are certain things I do miss from when I was younger. I hope that the South will always maintain their sunny dispositions and open arms, even to us overanxious, anal-retentive Yankees.

Okay, another food report … after a long day of shopping throughout the area, we had dinner at another one of my favorite restaurants in the area, a lovely little place called Skyline Chili. Thank God they don’t have a store in our Golden State because I would be even plumper than I already am. Skyline makes this chili that is uniquely thrown over spaghetti, where one can optionally add onions, beans and mounds of shredded cheese. Talk about carb overload! We all ate our fill (and then some) and slowly made our way back to the in-laws’ house. I don’t care we eat the rest of the trip, I’ve had my favorites already!

That’s all from Kentuckiana, folks – may all your meals be happy ones :-)

Michael

The Joys Of Air Travel

2006-07-20T09:27:00.001-07:00

I write this blog entry strapped in a cramped little space provided by the good folks of Southwest Airlines. This is not the most comfortable way to write for me. I’m used to being able to see the screen as I’m typing. In this position that no human adult should ever occupy for more than ten minutes, I have the laptop screen bent down at an unnatural angle because my neighbor to my immediate north has reclined his chair, forcing me to recline mine just so I can feel my knees again.

Let me say this up front: we all hate air travel, even more so since 9/11 and the growing obesity of Americans. I admit to even needing a few additional inches myself these days, thanks to my continuing love of pasta and my wife’s cooking of just about everything. But I’m just one person – what about all these other behemoths that almost surround me (I’m excluding Leia, of course, who dutifully accompanies me on every business trip).

We’ve settled into a working routine with SWA, which is one reason why I prefer flying them over anyone else. We check in the day before online and print out our boarding passes assuring ourselves seats in the coveted A section. In order to reduce stress in the trip to the airport, we eschew shuttles and other forms of commuter ground travel, instead opting for the cool comfort of our own taxicab.

The real technique is in the boarding. We mosey our way up to the A line, usually not right away (we save that for the truly anal-retentive, that is, those who are need to be in line first). Once we get on board, we head pas the wing and pick a row that is far away from the nearest occupant. Leia takes the window seat, I take the aisle; this leaves the middle seat available for bags, magazines, books, what have you. This minor bit of subterfuge is meant to dissuade any potential middle-seaters from looking at this no man’s land as an attractive rest spot. We both eye the front door nervously as we observe each late arrival, hoping that they are traveling with someone or that they’ll eye a good prospect somewhere else.

Finally, when they close the door and start shutting the overhead bins that we find we can relax. Deftly, we remove our “spare” materials from the interposing seat and return that goods to the proper carry-on bag. With precision normally reserved for a synchronous swimming team, we lift our respective center armrests and bask in the joy of extra arm and knee room.

And yet, I sit crouched in my tomb of travel pray that my northern neighbor grows tired of his fully reclined rest or I find a way to lower my chin further into my chest cavity. As it is right now, I can taste my Adam’s apple on my palate which causes me to stare straight up from time to time so I can breathe properly again.

We had to take Weasel to the kennel last night in preparation for our extended trip to parts east. I’m obliged from time to time to go back to the Midwest to meet and debate with my peers on matters too mundane even for blogging. Thankfully, on this particular trip, we decided to extend our travel another week and a half, visiting family in two different eastern states. While we both admitting to pangs of missing the house while we were gone, it’s good we’re combining all our familial visiting all at once. On our return, we’re going to be completely engaged in the continued improvements on the villa and its surrounds. The next time we go out of town will be next August for our first even family reunion-cruise.

So, with heavy heart, we brought Weasel to her mini-spa for the next couple of weeks. I may have mentioned in earlier posts that our dog suffers from major separation anxiety. It’s so bad that the other day when Leia got out of the car to mail a letter in the local drop box, Weasel whimpered and wined, jumping all around the backseat of the car so she wouldn’t lose sight of her for an instant. The pup wouldn’t settled down until her mistress was safely belted in the passenger seat and then acted like she hadn’t seen her in a month of Sundays. Leia claims she does the same thing when I am even briefly out of her sight (but I know Leia is her love; I’m just the guy who feeds her).

When we arrived at the doggie retreat, we signed in and had to wait at least twenty minutes until they came to collect her. In that long expanse of time, Weasel was jumping up on both of us, on the vinyl couch between us, then back down on the floor again – all the while, letting little whines of nervousness. She’s no dummy – she hates being left anywhere if we’re not there and I think she could sense this was going to be a long one (I tell Leia that she can detect the scent of betrayal which always causes her to feel those pangs of motherhood-guilt).

Lately, Weasel has taken to making these nervous / excited whiney noises that makes her sound like a monkey. I swear, if you close your eyes, you’d swear you were sitting among the simians at the local zoo. Of course, no amount of cooing, stroking or talking to her would calm her down.

And so, with heavy heart and one less thing to worry about pre-travel, we said good-bye to our little friend and headed out to our favorite Italian dinner, to celebrate my birthday. Naturally, I had pasta.

From our jet way to your doorway,
Michael

Postscript: I composed the above entry on the plane, but I'm actually posting it online a few days later. Naturally, I'm in the airport again - brought to you courtesy of the airport wireless system, sitting here waiting for our flight to depart. We had major weather delays, so instead of leaving at 9:10 AM, we're scheduled to depart at 1:30 PM. Wish us luck!

First Attempts

2006-07-16T20:50:00.001-07:00

I just found out that I didn’t make the list of finalists for the BlueCat Screenwriting Competition. I submitted the first screenplay I ever wrote (called The Rebound Guy) to this contest and another one called Scriptapalooza thinking I’d give it a shot and at least get feedback from an objective party. While I didn’t win the first one (and I still don’t know about the second one), I can say I was pleased with the feedback the reader gave me from the BlueCat group. The critique had both positive and negative elements and I was able to get a lot out of both sides.

So now I have two screenwriting projects on my plate … to revise The Rebound Guy applying their recommendations and continue outlining my second one. In the case of the first one, I have it posted on Inktip.com so that it may be “discovered” by an industry insider – or perhaps I will be the one who/s discovered by an agent. My ultimate goal is to make a second career at this writing thing and leave my 8 to 5 corporate slave job behind. First thing’s first, though … I have to get one of these scripts sold.

How is it that having one’s own citrus plant be such a thrilling thing? One of the features that attracted me to the landscaping was the lone lemon tree that lined the curved driveway to our house. There just hanging low and juicy were these beautiful lemons, some as big as grapefruits. In fact, when we first met with our realtor at the site, he picked a couple huge ones for us to take back with us. Leia is a lemon lover supreme, so you can imagine the joy she had carrying those plump fruits back with us to our little downtown loft.

The landscaping around our villa is beautiful, simply beautiful. Besides the standard array of California wildflowers – pink, white and yellow explosions of bountiful hues interspersed with spiky cactus and palm fronds – the front yard is decorated with a cornucopia of various other flowers, including a wide array of birds of paradise. These latter exotic plants are some of my favorite on earth. In the middle of this sea of petals grows a tall and very healthy holly tree. Smaller bushes of all kinds line the sidewalk to the front door, completing the tableau.

When we first bought the house, the entire rear of the property was surrounded by a multitude of pink geraniums. They made a colorful backdrop to the green ivied wall behind them and if looked at from across the pool, the variation in color truly was a treat for the eyes. But as Leia says, letting geraniums get so “leggy” isn’t good for them, so we had the gardeners hack them back to a more manageable size. Now we wait for them to grow back. In the fall, we plan to rebuild the entire pool area and at that point, the geraniums will go and will be replaced with white roses (at least, that’s what we’re saying now, anyway).

The gardeners have been coming weekly and their doing a fine job keeping the property looking good. I hope they’ll work out in the long run … it’s so hard to find good gardeners who do consistent work week after week. We certainly don’t need to “try and buy” multiple laborers until we find one who will do the job right, the first time and every time thereafter. The only big job we need to have the landscapers do is to give us an estimate to redo the entire sprinkler system for the property. Some of the sprinkler heads are just broken. Others aren’t on a properly working timer. And finally, there just aren’t enough sprinklers to do a proper job of irrigating all that needs to be done to keep the plants from drying out up here in dry heat country. In a week or two, we should be getting this irrigation issue resolved.

As I write this, I’m sitting in the cabana looking at the ground lighting that surrounds the pool. Just the other day I discovered where the switch to the pool lights was, but with Leia sitting on the side of the pool with her feet dangling in there, I don’t want to take a chance of electrocuting her, though I really don’t believe there’s a problem there. The crickets are chirping madly, but thankfully, the cool air is wafting across our part of the foothills. Life continues to be good.

From our hill to yours,
Michael.

Now We’re Talking Hot!

2006-07-15T18:58:00.001-07:00

I know my future without a moment of doubt … I’m going to be one of those old codgers who spends hours in front of the weather channel and swearing the climate has gotten worse since I was young. Case in point, the heat up here this weekend! Now, I admit we got a bit spoiled with the beach weather – so much so, in fact, that we didn’t need air conditioning at all and only wished we had it a handful of days.

Things here in the foothills are a bit different. I don’t know if it’s because we’re at a higher elevation or as one wag suggested to, we’re closer to the sun – but it’s about as hot as I’ve ever felt it being so far from the desert. Today I would guess it’s near 105 degrees F up here and I’m sure it’s much worse in areas even farther for the Pacific. This is the weekend of wildfires and the poor fire departments from I-don’t-know HOW many counties are about to begin their second week battling a beauty that was started by lightning storms.

If you’re really looking for heat, though, there’s nothing I’ve ever felt that was hotter than one of our road trips to Vegas. For those of you who’ve never done the four hour run from LA to LV, the majority of the trip is across a desert wasteland with only a couple of way stations in between. One of those is the little hamlet of Baker – not Bakersfield, a slightly larger, but hardly more impressive town east of Los Angeles. Baker is every Vegas-bound traveler’s mini-oasis. Besides serving the best strawberry milkshakes on earth, Baker is known for its incessant heat, frequently making the top of the “hottest places in the US” on the aforementioned Weather Channel.

On one trip to Vegas, we pulled into Baker to fuel up and grab our favorite milkshakes to go. As we crossed the city limit, we took note that the huge thermometer that graces the town entry was hovering around 117 degrees – 117 degrees!! We confirmed this with our Saab’s outside temperature gauge. How can people stand to live in such weather, day after day, year after year?

Our pool guy has a lot of practical advice and one of the things he recommended was to teach Weasel how to swim. Some who read this think that it’s silly to teach a dog how to swim because they know how to dog-paddle instinctively. After all, we’ve all seen episodes on Animal Planet of dogs jumping into to treacherous waters to save their puppies, their owners or even total strangers.

The way Mike explained it, though, made the whole idea sound sensible. Since Weasel is now officially an outside dog, there may be situations that she will either chase flying critters and fall in the pool or she just may slip and fall into it during one of her many patrols around the pool’s perimeter. Teaching Weasel where the pool steps were and how to get out if she accidentally find herself in the drink.

So, then, how do you teach a dog to swim? If you answered very carefully, give yourself half credit. Let’s just say the correct answer is not very easily. Now Weasel isn’t much for getting wet in the first place. She hates baths, which is why we give that pleasure to the kennels we leave her at. She’s also a suspicious creature, mainly because we may do things like drag her into the pool against her will. So naturally, she wasn’t jumping with enthusiasm the day we chose to bring her into the pool with us.

To make it easiest, but Leia and I swam around awhile until we were ready. We both sat on the stairs at the shallow end and called Weasel to us. Even though she can’t trust us as far as she can carry us, Weasel came over from where she was laying, her tail wagging happily since it seemed she was needed. My wife brought her close to her wet skin and only managed to get Weasel’s collar off before our pup figured out there was a trap and wiggled away from her grasp. One of the funniest things you have to see is a dog who has just escaped from (to her) is a fate worse than death, laying far enough away from the two perpetrators of her near-fateful end and shooting icy stares at us at the indignity of her near dunking.

Okay, so it wasn’t meant to be that day, we’d soon enough have our chance to try again. The next time she wasn’t so lucky to wiggle away since Daddy (me) had her in his manly grasp. I held her close to me and walked down the stairs back into the pool, making sure our shaking little doggy’s head was far above the water’s surface that she wouldn’t freak out too bad.

After a few moments there I walked her to the pool stairs and gentle guided her out of the pool after she dog-paddled her way to the edge. She showed her displeasure by shaking what seemed to be gallons of water from her soaked fur, most of it in our direction or so it seemed. Leia and I got a hearty laugh at that exercise and vowed to try again soon.

That was two weeks ago and neither one of us even wanted to deal with another canine swimming lesson in that whole time. Meanwhile, whenever we’re in the pool, our dog still circles the perimeter, but keeps more than a couple of arm lengths away from us just in case we get some big ideas again about being Red Cross instructors at the puppy pool of the foothills. Eventually, we’ll have to give her another lesson, but right now, it’s too dang hot!

From our (hot) hill to yours,
Michael