5. Squirrel Funeral

(Previously sent to friends as a “Happy Friday” email on 10/28/11.)

It started out as a routine day. I went out to get the paper first thing, and there was this squirrel lying in the middle of the road. It didn’t seem likely that the deceased expired from natural causes. We don’t have much traffic on our road, and squirrels are pretty attentive this time of year. Now, had it been springtime when there’s a lot of frisky chasing around with the girl squirrels playing hard-to-get … yeah, I could understand “distractibility” as a contributing factor. But this was fall, and they’re pretty focused on burying nuts … but not typically in asphalt. I’d have to say the cause of death was “suspicious.” I planned to report my findings at our next Block Watch meeting whereIhavetotalkreallyfastbecausetheylimitmytime.

I wasn’t quite sure of my next move. Unlike most manly men, I don’t have much experience packing around dead animals. I figured there were two possible approaches for transporting the victim: pragmatic and dignified.  I decided to go with pragmatic since I’ve always felt that dignity was overrated. So, I gloved up and applied a standard tail-hold method with Mr. S. dangling discreetly at my side.  I quietly processioned to the woods behind our house to find a final resting spot. My concern wasn’t so much with the neighbors; they’d know I wasn’t the squirrel-killer type.  The bigger worry was all the squirrels that made themselves right at home there. And, it’s not like you can just explain what happened to their pal.  Squirrels seem to have a language problem even when you speak slowly and use gestures.  This didn’t look promising for making inroads with the squirrel community. 

Walking slowly with a somber gait, I whistled a sultry “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” … the monotone version. I could feel my every movement being scrutinized from the trees above so I avoided direct eye contact. My intention was to show respect and be cautious not to drag the deceased on the ground … or fling him all around, even though I knew I could get pretty good distance if this were a hammer-throw event at the Olympics. I really deserve more credit from people for not acting on my impulses. 

I found myself digging several test holes before making one that was just right – one where I didn’t hit rocks.  Knowing surprisingly little about squirrel faiths and cultural protocols, I made the final arrangement with a simple fluffing of his tail that had become somewhat matted during the procession. It seemed quiet all around me … maybe a little too quiet. And, perhaps it was my imagination, but I sensed there were a lot more squirrels in the trees than I’d noticed moments earlier. After making a tidy back fill with reserved shovel patting, I dusted off my pants, stood for a moment with my head bowed, and tried to keep my mind from ruminating back to similar scenes in Alfred Hitchcock’s movie, The Birds.

L. Haymond

A-1 Rodent Interment

4. Tour de Park

(Previously sent to friends as a “Happy Friday” email on 10/21/11.)

Retirement has finally given me time to exercise on most days, just like I used to … intend. I may have played almost every day as a kid, but that was for fun and homework avoidance. Actually, I do enjoy exercising, except for the getting out of breath part … and the burning muscles, followed by soreness, plus the sweating … which together, I think we can all agree is a questionable trade-off for just staying healthy.

“Cycling” seems to be trendy these days, which is why I won’t have any part of it. I don’t dig groovy fads. Instead, I go “bike riding.” We live near Riverside State Park that has lots of trails. I have an old bike that I’ve customized into a rat rod. It started out as a Murray Missile more than 50 years ago and was sold exclusively at Montgomery Ward. Obviously, it’s an upscale machine. 

Rat Rod

For starters, I bolted a classic mascot to the handlebars to add style and a touch of historic elegance … the manly type. I named him “Vic.”

Victor H.

To ensure “complete” safety, I sprang for the Ultimate Safety Option:

Just ring for divine safety.

 Then, there’s the three-speed hub … and state-of-the-art power brakes.

After the smoke cleared.

 Finally, I licensed this baby so it’s street legal. 

Licensed for street cred.

To ride alone safely in nature requires an instinctive sense for potential dangers. Twice, I’ve seen a lone coyote scurry away in the distance. Sure, they’re smaller than you’d expect, but they’ve been known to attack field mice and other rodents … without provocation. That’s why I carry a cell phone with speed dial directly to the Park Ranger’s office. Plus, I’m a good screamer and quick to run away ever since my high school pantsing days. But, my first preference for self-defense is to INTIMIDATE. This is where Vic comes in handy. On any given day, I'll put some kind of prey in his mouth ... like a dangerous king cobra. 

Deadly fangs are no match for chrome-plated brass hide.

And, to keep dangerous animals from becoming suspicious of my ploy, I’ll switch to a raptor ... 

Jurassic Park ... bring it on.

cowboy, or dingo … or perhaps a small likeness of a member of congress if I’m not being picky. And when I’m in a sensible mood, I can always make him into Diplomatic Vic:

Diplomatic Vic

 This arsenal of victims makes up the bulk of the survival kit that fills my pockets. They can also serve as entertainment when I stop for a break and want to throw some rocks at targets. As you can see, I’m keeping my mind fully engaged in retirement. 

And, there’s another challenging factor that confronts you when riding the technical and risky “Tour de Park.” It’s not so much the sweating that interferes with intense focus or the predatory wild animals or the possibility of catastrophic mechanical failure that worries me. It’s not even a skinned knee that really stings bad and will get little sympathy at home. No, the real risk factor for me is ... UNBRIDLED SPEED.

Speedo

Disregards,

Lance "Speed-o-light" Haymond

3. Double Bogey

(Previously sent to friends as a “Happy Friday” email on 10/14/11.)

I’ve been thinking about becoming a golf pro to give me something to do on nice days. I’ve had my clubs for more than 12 years now and have already played nearly a half dozen rounds since. It just seems to come naturally to me, much like a fish takes to pavement … but with far less grace.  And, what I lack in driving distance, I make up with my deft inaccuracy. The real problem for me is that the other players want to rush the game. It’s like they’re trying to stay ahead of the people playing behind us. I’m more of a smell-the-roses kind of player who wants to savor the experience along the way. You could say that I’m a “process” player rather than a score-card “product” guy.

To the golfers behind us, I say “Why didn’t get a tee-time BEFORE us … how hard would THAT be?” And, for those who want to play through, it’s, “NO CUTS, we got here first.  DEAL with it!” in my most sportsman-like voice. But still, the people willing to play with me always seem to be in a hurry to finish, usually making just one shot for every three of mine. So, to speed things up, I’ve been pondering a new strategy that involves hitting the ball on the run … kind of like playing polo, but without the horse. It would probably work best on public courses since private links are pretty grouchy about following the rules.

I recently finished golf lessons with a terrific pro. A couple of friends gave them to me as a retirement gift. I’ve found myself enjoying the game much more since then. But it also dawned on me that I’m hitting the ball fewer times each game, and thus, playing less golf. Apparently, the better you get, the less you actually get to hit the ball … and you still have to pay full price. Go figure. 

And, I really like the social part of golf even though I don’t spend much time with the others in my group. Instead, I follow my ball around, touring the back yards of homes that line the fairways. (See “inaccuracy” above.) My conversations with the neighbors tend to be short and friendly, along the lines of: “Sorry about your flowers, Ma’am. This ball belongs to the guy in the tasteless argyle sweater up ahead.” Then I beat it out of there waving the ball over my head, yelling, “Hey, Jeff, I found your ball!” and chuck it in the general direction of the hole. Closing in on the group, I lope up alongside the ball at a near gallop and whap it in a style reminiscent of Prince William’s … with Kate cheering him on from the sidelines. Giddy up! 

L. Haymond

Recipient, Coveted Gold-Star Sticker

Walter Mitty Fan Club

2. Missions Accomplished

(Previously sent to friends as a “Happy Friday” email on 9/30/11.)

People have been asking what I’ve been doing in retirement.  I tell them specifically, “I keep myself busy … VERY busy!”  This is mostly because I’m in a probationary period right now to prove to Mary that I’m worthy of this vocation.  You see, she’s still working and feels I should be doing something worthwhile like helping out at home, even though – as I said – I AM retired. We finally compromised on a system using lists.  They’re written on a dry-erase board prominently displayed near the garage door where I can’t miss them.  They include:

1. Mary’s list of things I’m Supposed to do

2. My list of things I Hope to do

3. The list of things I actually do, which I call my Missions Accomplished list.)

For example, here’s yesterday’s list of accomplishments:

- Made my own breakfast

- Rode my bike for exercise

- Cleaned your refrigerator to make room for more beer

- Made my own lunch

- Buried a dead squirrel

- Thought seriously about doing another job from your list

- Watched the History Channel

Seven items total … pretty good day if you ask me.  Mary’s take, however, was a bit more subdued when she got home.  To her, there should more than a measly 9% overlap between her Supposed-to List and my Missions Accomplished List.  Taking her feedback to heart, I added “Perplex over list continuity” to my Hope-to List for today. Right away I can see that this will involve strenuous higher-level thinking and possibly self-reflection, which frankly, I find difficult since I’m really not that deep. The working public really doesn’t fully understand the pressures and complexities that go with retirement.

Well, it’s a new day, and I should start considering what I feel like doing.  I have “Go grocery shopping” on my Hope-to List, and I think I’m up for the challenge of making product choices and socializing in a generally acceptable manner using basic primate standards.  Mostly I go shopping for basic staples like beer, chips, jerky, mixed party nuts, fish sticks, and the required something-healthy-blah-blah-blah. Plus, some Ben & Jerry’s with assorted sprinkles to hit the dairy food group.  Sometimes I visit with other shoppers, and they ask me what I do.  I tell them I’m a Homemaker.  Mary considers this dishonest, however, since the term implies productively.  She thinks I should be using a more accurate title like “Stay-at-Home Husband.”  Fine. JUST fine.

Well, I need to get going since I’m on a pretty tight schedule again today. 

L. Haymond

House Trained

“Like Columbus, Shepard, and Spock before me, it's my turn to BOLDLY GO SOMEWHERE.  This afternoon, I’ve chosen Granny's Buffet for the Early Bird Special.  Uhhh … DANG!  Wish I could find my car keys….”   ~Anonymous AARP Member

1. Martha Stewart-like Living

I’m at home quite a bit these days since retiring and find myself becoming increasingly domesticated.  One of the things I do with my idle mind is to write things that entertain me and hopefully others.  I’ve sent them out as Happy Friday email attachments each week since September.  I just switched over to this blog and am having a contest to determine the best name for it.  It was open for suggestions from readers, and I added some of my own to the list.  The winner of those sent in will be awarded an extraordinary prize that I’ll address below.

 

The names in competition include:

•          Access Denied
• ·        An Unoccupied Mind
•          Bounced Reality Check
• ·        Clear and Present Danger
• ·        Doesn’t Meet Standard
•          Duck and Cover
• ·        Failed Reality Check
• ·        Fatal Distraction
• ·        Filling the Pool (from life guard video)
• ·        Incidents of INCREDIBLE Importance
• ·        Incorrigible
• ·        Irreconcilably Different
• ·        Lolly-Gaggin’ with Lou
• ·        Lou and Logic
• ·        Lou's Loquacious Lines
• ·        Missed Medication
• ·        Mumblings to Myself
•          Old, But Immature
• ·        Parched Thoughts
• ·        Released of His Own Accord
• ·        Retired From Reality
•          The BIG News
• ·        Under the Influence
• ·        Unsafe at Any Speed
•          Warped Logic

 
Now, here’s where you come in as an Official Blog Reader.  You can vote for your three favorite names by clicking in the "About Me" area on the right; on that page, click “Email” to send your choice to me by Tuesday, June 18 at 9:20 p.m., just before my bedtime … unless I napped up earlier in the day.  This is of tremendous importance, of course, so please give it the same consideration you’d have when voting for a president or selecting a cable provider.

The winner of the contest will receive a coveted SpamAnimal, as seen in several local elementary schools where I’ve worked.  They are painstakingly sculpted from raw Spam.  As with any competition, most of you will be losers. And, since I don’t want a bunch of whiners moping around deleting my new site from their computers before giving it a fair shot, I’m going to make everyone a winner, including you.  So, with Martha Stewart-like flare, I’ll walk you through the process of making your very own SpamAnimal.

To begin, Spam is a meat-like product that apparently is edible by people who have lost their sense of taste and of smell, probably as a result of a nuclear accident or by watching too much reality TV.  Both have a damaging cumulative effect based on dosage and exposure duration. For example, one season of Jersey Shore would be equivalent to six months sunning yourself inside Reactor 2 at Chernobyl.  Spam and Kobe beef would taste about the same to you.

Okay, first, lay out the common kitchen utensils pictured below (#1). You have to work quickly, so you should have them within easy reach.  Remember to Glove-Up.  No one really knows the actual contents of the product.  Sure, there’s a listing on the side, but that certainly doesn’t explain the "aroma."  Artisans like me in this specialty field understand that the smell of Spam is best described as an “odor” rather than a “scent,” which we’d normally associate with fresh flowers, a summer rain, and Old Spice aftershave. So remember to use extreme caution when working with a substance like this that releases potentially dangerous fumes.  Think: Mr. White and Jesse on Breaking Bad.

                                              #1 Culinary design tools
 

Next, gather the secret ingredients (#2):

·       1 can Original Spam - frozen (You’ll probably want to buy several since they’re 
         currently selling their 75^th Anniversary Collectors’ Edition)

·       2 tbsp dried chives

·       2 whole cloves

·       9 – 15 raisins

·       Some Pam

·       1 family heirloom silver platter

                                                #2 Secret ingredients

Be sure your mass of Spam is frozen (#3). 

                                               #3 Diamond in the rough

 

Preparation: Make the basic rough cuts to give it form (#4). 

                                                          #4 Rough cut

 

The next picture (#5) illustrates the point at which the material is quickly changing from a solid into a mooshier consistency, as we technically call it in the trade. (A serrated bread knife and small paring knife are the actual instruments of choice.) The “natural” odor is becoming QUITE apparent by now, thus explaining the rational for freezing it at the outset.  This would be a good time to initiate the Safety Procedure of ingesting at least one straight shot of Cuervo for its olfactory-suppression properties.

                                                #5 Devil is in the details

 

Lightly spray platter with Pam and add chives that will now stick.  Strategically place your creation on the platter.  For effect, add 9 to 15 raisins (more if you have certain personality disorders).   Voilà, a perfect presentation of the SpamAnimal!  Let’s name him "Alex" (#6).

                                                          #6 Voilà! Alex

 

Here, Alex is quickly making new kitchen friends (#7).  As you can see, SpamAnimals are quite outgoing and gregarious, although they don’t seem to be aware that they’ve come into the world … well, naked. Now, you might consider helping correct this by leaving it out at room temp.  Perhaps with a bit of aging, it will grow some mold and be transformed into a snappy member of the Chia Pet family. 

                                       #7 Alex with new kitchen friends

 

Of course, you’d probably have to move out of your place and have it fumigated … or else buy a bunch of those cardboard air fresheners for cars, with strings attached to hang all over the house.  I like the ones with the Rolling Stones logo.  However, some people might have reservations about how these would affect the décor and general ambiance of a home, particularly if you’re planning to have company over. Rather than experiment with Alex, I’ve decided to keep him fresh in our freezer until he’s awarded to the winner of the blog-naming contest.

So, on behalf of Alex, I’d sincerely appreciate your help with this as he would really like to get out of the freezer on a work release.  As with most culinary masterpieces, he'd prefer to be in the limelight rather than cold storage.  Thanks for voting for your top three!

Bon Appetite,

L. Haymond

Iron Stomach Chef