This is not about the television show, which--by the way--we enjoy watching.
Instead, this is about what happens when one does not pay attention while working in the garden. A concrete panel fell over and crashed onto my foot, breaking my toe and causing a bit of pain in the foot...and the neck.
This minor aggravation also provided a bit of entertainment. The “accident” happened on Friday. We traveled to France for the weekend, accompanied by my swollen foot, which I was not going to get in the way of a decent meal. On Monday, I decided to let a doctor examine my foot, with the thought that I might have broken a bone.
My wife drove me to doctor. Being the way she is, she accompanied me into the examining room. Of course, this saves me from relating my experience, so I do not mind...Usually.
The doctor turned out to be female, which is also usually not a problem. I have found female doctors to be very talented. One cut open my abdomen and fixed my intestines.
Anyway, when she walked in, the first thing my wife commented on was the color of her shoes, which started a discussion that had nothing to do with the actual reason for us being in that room. I was forced to remind them that I was the star of the show, not the doctor’s shoes.
The x-ray proved that the bone in my large tow was splintered. No operation is necessary, but the toe must be stabilized, so that the bone can grow together. This gives me one more excuse for not dancing...as if I needed another.
Now, a portion of my foot is almost as colorful as the doctor’s shoes...
Just what we need: a return to the Cold War and arms race. The below headline in the Guardian will surely warm the hearts of all that will make money selling weapons, producing think-tank hot air, and talk radio blowhards.
Mitt Romney to rekindle cold war spirit with speech in Poland attacking Russia
After gaffe-strewn UK visit and controversial remarks in Israel, US presidential hopeful turns to symbol of anti-Soviet triumph
I watched only the beginning of the Olympic Games opening ceremony...and then I went to bed to rest for my grueling trip to France. I wrote my thoughts in a draft, which I fortunately did not post. After watching the remaining bulk of the ceremony upon my return from Alsace, I have more positive things to say.
I have been involved in several Olympic Games and always received best-quality tickets to ceremonies and sport events. After attending one ceremony (Barcelona), I always gave away tickets to opening and closing ceremonies. The hassle of getting their and back did not appeal to me, and I do not enjoy hype, especially when surrounded by so many huge egos. Occasionally, I watched parts of the ceremony on television, but usually not.
Everyone, especially the Brits, knew that “Great” Britain could not compete the scale presented by the Chinese. Fortunately, they did not try, but some bits were open for criticism. Like all nations, revisionist history is something governments tend to employ.
I like period pieces, so I should have enjoyed opening. I did not feel the“emotional punch” journalists were told to report. The historical bits made no sense in context of Games and only reinforced an image of England as old-fashioned, out-dated, and out-of-touch. That said, my opinion that they have the best talent in the world for staging, lighting, and showmanship was proven from beginning to end.
Unlike otheres, I did not like the silly bit with the worst the James Bond ever and the old lady living on welfare in Buckingham Palace. Of course, the English (rest of Great Britain not all that thrilled with her) can’t hide her, but she only reinforces the image of old .
The most-entertaining bit of the entire evening was Rowan Atkinson adding a bit on humor to the otherwise plodding chariots of fire, a piece I dislike.
I do not understand the thinking of rolling out (literally) the National Health Service, one of the worst in the “advanced” world. This might be a case of turning the truth on its head, as Republicans (US variety) and Fox News like to do.
The Olympic Games is a festival of sport, but the organizers seemed to have forgotten this at times. This became apparent when the thousands of athletes wandered in, waving flags and arms. Of course, this was terribly boring and seemingly endless. The flame was a rather creative element, one of the best I remember, although I dislike the hype of people running through the countryside raising money for large corporations.
I smirked at the hypocrisy of men in suits thanking the volunteers, because their generosity ensured greater earnings for the “corporation”.
Overall, the Brits used English self-deprecation, humor, entertainment talent, and creative ability to put on a decent show.
Anyone that has studied European history know that Germans and French have had a few disagreements in the past. Bits of real estate have changed hands a time or two, which explains why most people in the Alsace region speak German. On top of that, the French have been known to muttering disparaging comments about their neighbor. France’s most-famous chef, Paul Bocuse has given his verdict on German cuisine, saying “there is no such thing as German cuisine, but only a German method of dealing with leftovers”.
Germans see things differently, which brings us to the word, or rather words, of the day. There is a saying in Germany--Leben wie Gott in Frankreich, which mean “to live like God in France”. Germans appreciate French savoir vivre (I do not do French Word of the Day), French food, and French culture. The French do not reciprocate.
This explains why we travel often to France and Alsace in particular to eat or shop for food.
We did again yesterday, which explains the “radio silence” on these pages. We made the pilgrimage to our favorite restaurant, which might be the best in the world (but, who cares about other peoples' opinions?Sorry, but gluttony had priority. To make up for that, I will provide some nice photos of Alsace...
One should learn to take the bad with the good...especially when pain is involved.
Today, I was pleased for a short time. I exchanged my “bio” trash container (one in which we place bio-degradable waste)--we are compelled to separate trash into four different containers. We needed a larger container, because of increased garden waste and the town’s decision to charge extra for its pick-up. I should be able to handle all in the weekly bio trash pick-ups...or that was my reasoning in exchanging containers.
I returned home with the new container and felt the urge to christen it with a load from the garden. One large plastic sack of clipping has been languishing in the back, waiting for a suitable treatment. I decided to dump the contents into the new container.
In my haste and blinded by euphoria, I failed to notice that the sack rested upon upright stones...which fell on my big toe, when I lifted the sack. That was...and still is painful.
The joy of having a new container was immediately replaced with mixed emotions: of course, searing pain, anger, shame at my stupidity, etc.
I am now the regretful owner of one normal large toe and one over-sized large toe. The pain has subsided, if I do not move. I will not be working in the garden for some time...
I tend to dislike many common word usages, which have become fashionable. One, in particular, is the tendency of journalist to tag the suffix -gate onto anything with the whiff of scandal, crime, or government embarrassment. Few days go by without some headline screaming about a “gate”, which is neither an entry or anything to get excited about.
The world would be a better place with torturing an already tortured tongue...
Calling a spade a spade and a "banker" a gambler. Someone else noticed, even if most don't get it...
The below link is something for someone that wishes to wrap his or her brain around a tantalizing problem. This is not for Daily Mail readers wishing to learn the latest fabricated gossip about insignificant people. The subject might be more for philosophers, cosmologists, or science majors, but a brief foray into cerebral puzzles can be exhilarating (and confusing). The following is a quasi-book review; it presents enough on the issue to get simple minds moving, to prevent having to buy the book, and to avoid having to read something mind-boggling.
Most days, I scan headlines of the Daily Mail, which is reputed to be the largest “circulation” internet tabloid newspaper (with “news” having a rather elastic definition). I like to remain informed about what stirs the juices of dwellers of the left side of the dim-witted/normal bell curve. Some bits are entertaining, some confounding, some ridiculous, and some angering.
Today, I noticed that Katie Holmes has forced her daughter to ride on a commercial airplane. Following her divorce from Hollywood’s alleged leading fruitcake, she no longer can afford private jets. This made me pause to reflect on her decision. Why would she submit herself and her daughter to the indignities of commercial air travel and provide visual fodder for tabloids? Her decision makes sense. A few airport hassles is preferable to the constant influence of space alien believers.
Prior to writing novels, the author enjoyed a multifaceted career: from decorated combat aviator to advertising professional to global communications director of a major consumer brand. He has traveled the world and met sports, film and television stars, political leaders, and royalty. He graduated from Middlebury College, is married, lives in Germany, and has two grown children.