It Happens EVERY Time...

"It" being the feeling I get when I go to the Big City... any Big City.  That feeling is best described as "WHY am I still here," as applies to me living in P-Ville.  Today's... or more accurately, yesterday's... feeling came over me while I was in Monte's Cigar Shop here in ABQ.  Why is that, you ask?  Just look...

Nirvana, for us stogie fans.  Those are two crappy cell-phone pics of Monte's walk-in humidor, which has more floor space than my apartment.  Literally.  I spent at least a half-hour in the humidor, just walking around... slack-jawed and drooling... until I could bring myself to choose a handful (two handfuls, actually) of really great cigars.  And take pictures, of course.

So, there's that.  Add to that feeling that I'm blogging from Starbucks and you get more fuel for the fire.  I'm beginning to think there MIGHT be a move in my future.

For the Record

I mentioned in comments to yesterday's post that I'm visiting with SN1 in ABQ, principally to do my paternal duties of oohing and ah-ing over the new house, which is VERY ooh-able.  The visit has been good, even though I'm old and in the way as the family goes about moving in, which process (the moving) is one huge PITA. 

So, as the post title indicates here are three "new house" pics, coz we need to do such things.

Buck and Erma out front

Buck, Erma, and some old guy

On the staircase, one of the few areas NOT overwhelmed with boxes

Don't we look good?

A Rose By Any Other Name...

... might be called Marika.

My neighbor.  Yesterday was her birthday.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

My Darling Kate...

But every time it rains
You're here in my head
Like the sun coming out

Which is why I live in an arid climate.

Feelin' Old

From the Usual USAF Source...

End of an Era: The official retirement of Lt. Gen. Craig Koziol on June 1 marks the end of an era for the Air Force, as the service will bid adieu to the last uniformed airman who was once a part of the US Air Force Security Service, the original iteration of today's Air Force Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance Agency, according to agency officials. "I'm very proud to have been a member of USAFSS," said Koziol, who is stepping down after 36 years in uniform as an intelligence officer. Since February 2009, he's been deputy undersecretary of defense for intelligence for joint and coalition warfighter support. The Air Force established USAFSS in October 1948, according to the AFISRA's May 23 release. Then-2nd Lt. Koziol joined its ranks as a signals intelligence officer in March 1977, states the release. Among his many assignments, Koziol led AFISRA, headquartered at JBSA-Lackland, Tex., from May 2007 to February 2009. He said he will miss "the professional camaraderie and focus on wanting to do whatever is necessary to support our country." (San Antonio-Lackland report by Wayne Amann)

I did two tours and a lil bit of a third with USAF Security Service... once at Wakkanai AS, Japan (from '68 - '70, and a 90-day reprise in '71) and in Beautiful Sinop By the Sea, Turkey ('71 - '72).  Those two tours were arguably among the best assignments I ever had.  "Best" covers a lot o' ground, of course, and neither location were what one would call "garden spots" or even desirable locations, geographically speaking.  Wakkanai had waaaay too damned much snow and was as far north in Japan as one can go without getting one's feet wet or learning to speak Russki... it was literally at the end of the earth.  And Sinop?  Kinda sorta the same, except much less snow and a VERY different and closed culture, as seen by these Yankee eyes.  Both places had two things in common, though: close proximity to the Ol' Evil Empire and some of the BEST troops I ever had the pleasure o' serving with.  And now all those old troops are gone.  Kinda makes me feel sad... and old.

―:☺:―

And then there's this...

I didn't want you to think I was holdin' out on ya, Gentle Reader.

Memorial Day

From af.mil:

Secretary of the Air Force Michael Donley and Air Force Chief of Staff Gen. Norton Schwartz send the following Memorial Day message to the Airmen of the U.S. Air Force and their families:

On May 30, 1868, the first official Memorial Day observance was held at Arlington National Cemetery to honor over 20,000 soldiers of the Civil War. Today, Memorial Day serves as an opportunity to pause and remember the sacrifices of more than one million Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, and Coast Guardsmen who have given their lives to secure our freedoms.

As we remember our fallen, captured, or missing service men and women, we also express our deep gratitude to those who are currently defending our Nation. Today, more than 33,000 Airmen are deployed around the world, while over 134,000 provide global support from their home station. Among our all-volunteer force, 68 percent of Airmen joined the Air Force after 9/11, and have never known a peacetime military. The men and women who answered the call by saying, "Send me," truly exemplify Service before Self.

In addition to recognizing the service of our fellow Airmen, we also pay tribute to the families of those who have fallen or who have been wounded while serving our country. For these families--the husbands and wives, sons and daughters, mothers and fathers--every day is Memorial Day. We will not forget those whom our fallen, captured, or missing service men and women left behind, and to whom our debt of gratitude can never be repaid.

On this day of remembrance, as we honor those who have given "their last full measure of devotion" in service to our Nation, let us renew our commitment to military family survivors, as well as to our wounded warriors and their families. To all Airmen, whether serving at home or abroad, please know your sacrifices do not go unnoticed. We are grateful for your service and are privileged to stand with you, by you, and for you.

"Day of Remembrance"... that means we honor the fallen on this day.  It doesn't mean that we can't honor those who still serve, because one never knows when they might be asked to give "their last full measure of devotion."  God bless and thank you all.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Susan Tedeschi...

How many times must I learn to live 
How many times must I learn to love to give 
How many times must I get down on my knees to pray 
How many times must I pray for you to stay

I sure do love this tune... we've had it on repeat for the last hour or so.  Amazon gifted me with an extra copy of Ms. Tedeschi's "Greatest Hits" CD and I, in turn, gifted it to grandson Sean.  Yesterday.  I'm waiting to hear from him on the album, what with Sean bein' an aspiring blues guitarist.  He could do worse than emulating Ms. Tedeschi.

I'll report back, but now we must get ready for a Sunday evening on the town... dinner and drinks... with a few o' my nearest and dearest.

Thievery: It's Becoming a Way o' Life

Stolen from blog-bud Kris:

Pretty danged cool, that.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Wherein Keef does his best Al Green...

It's not we don't have the time
Make no mistake
Not in the right place
make no mistake, make no mistake
Ooh come on baby, make no mistake
No mistake
I'm talking to ya baby
Make no mistake

Oooooh.  Sarah Dash.  BAY-bee!  And then there's this...

You're everywhere I go
Even though you're miles away
But I see, see your face everyday
Ooh and I love, I love it
It's a hard game you play
Hate it when you leave, hate it when you leave
Hate it when you're leaving me 

Damn... I love both these tunes, for the vocals, the backup singers, the horn charts, everythang.  Including and mebbe especially the lyrics.

―:☺:―

In other news... I got off the phone with SN1 about a half-hour ago and he was about two hours out of P-Ville at that point in time.  So, we're doin' Happy Hour in two segments today, the first of which we just finished.  We shall continue as we've begun around 1730 hrs or so, and it looks like it's shaping up to be a GREAT evening here on The High Plains o' New Mexico.

Miscellanea

We're just in from a round-robin errand run, which included a trip over to The Big(ger) City™ for our annual eye exam... the first since my cataract surgery last Spring... and running The Green Hornet through the car wash.  Then it was out to Cannon Airplane Patch for to re-supply the likker locker and the beer section of my fridge.  Then on to the BX, the barber shop, and finally the commissary to pick up a few odds and ends, one of which was a delicious-looking flank steak.

In relative order... my eyes are healthy.  No changes in status, no correction required, good pressure, no signs of glaucoma or any other debilitating eye disease.  All in all a good experience, except for the time o' day I had to be there: 1030 hrs.  We don't DO mornings as a general rule but we were on time for this exercise, and fully-caffeinated, at that.

So... we have a fresh bottle of JW Green.  Now that the weather has warmed up I find my whiskey consumption has increased by an order of magnitude... at the very least.  We were out on the verandah until nearly 2200 hrs last evening and enjoyed three rounds of Green along with some excellent company.

I got my quarterly haircut today and I FINALLY found a lady at the base barbershop who cuts my hair exactly like I want it cut.  Her name is Renee and she's only been at the chop-shop for two weeks now but I already love her.  Yes I do.  Here's the result:

I thought... seriously... about reverting back to full-blown hippie mode, seein' as how it's been more than three months since my last haircut.  My hair (before the barbering) was longer than it's been in quite some time, so why not go all the way?  But then I thought... even MORE seriously... about what a hassle long hair can be, especially if one has a convertible and one is given to driving with the top down more often than not.  I can still remember trying to untangle/unknot my hair the first time I went for an extended drive without putting it in to a pony tail or up under a hat.  I did THAT stoopid-human trick exactly once.  Never again.  

And then there's the washing, the drying, and all that other krep.  Click on the photo at the right to see what I looked like about ten years ago, give or take a month.

So... no full-blown-hippie look for me.  Just a half-assed hippie look, and that works.  Sorta.  Renee likes it, anyway.

Two More

Think of this effort as a public service, Gentle Reader, as I don't want ya to miss ANY of these.  There's no need to thank me.

A Re-run

This re-run is inspired by some snappy patter that took place in comments to yesterday's abbreviated post:

Weirdness

Here's a strange one: My Ex-Wife's Wedding Dress.  From the "About" section (punctuation left "as found"):

My wife of 12 years recently packed up her belongings and moved out of our home. After her car was loaded I couldn't help but notice that a single item remained in her section of our closet, her wedding dress.

"You forgot something" I told her.

She replied "And what's that?".

"Your wedding dress", I said.

"Yeah, I am not taking that" was her response.

"What do you expect me to do with it?" I asked.

And to that she replied, "Whatever the $%^@# you want".

And this is what I did.....

The author is up to 50 uses as of last night, including pasta strainer, oil change drop-cloth, and so on.  I applaud the concept and wish I had thought of it. But then again, there was no such thing as a "blog" when the maid quit.  She did, however, leave her dress behind.  I sold it in my Going Out of Bid'niz sale for ten dollars more than she paid for it.  (The Second Mrs. Pennington, being a very frugal sort, bought the dress in a second-hand store.  Srsly.)  Here's the dress, laid out across the back of a couch (which went in that very same sale).

Someone got a good deal for only $30.00 US.  Worn once, and all that.  Well, twice maybe.  It was second hand.  True Story, swear to The Deity At Hand.

H/T:  The Awl. 

So... just for grins and giggles I went to the "My Ex-Wife's Wedding Dress" link and it looks like the boy turned his life around, what with turning his blog into a book and getting re-married.   I didn't dive too deeply into the blog, but it looks like he MIGHT have proposed to his new wife on Facebook.  If that's the case I predict a sequel to his book... "101 Uses for my Second Ex-Wife's Wedding Dress."

 

Tacky.

Wherein We Flog Dead Draft Animals, Yet Again

From NWA... those ker-raaaazy animators...

Yanno what cracks me up about this lil vid?  They beat the hell outta Facebook and then end with a promo for their FACEBOOK page (Get animated... find out more on Facebook...).

Another One

I told ya I wasn't gonna get tired of this stuff...

Lessee... if I only had 70% of two billion dollars, would I be sad?  OTOH, I MIGHT be sad if I lost 30% of... say, $10,000.00... that I put into an IPO.

―:☺:―

It's another episode of "God's Own Hair Dryer" here on The High Plains O' New Mexico:

The wind is gusting to 32 mph according to the weather troops out at Cannon Airplane Patch.  I'm thinkin' we might have our first triple-digit day of the year today.

―:☺:―

In hockey news... the Kings eliminated the Feral Dogs a lil over two minutes into OT last night to advance to the Stanley Cup Final.  I missed the game because I was otherwise occupied with sumthin'/someone more entertaining than hockey.  How could that POSSIBLY be, you ask?  Use yer imagination, sez I. 

Further

Heh.  I'm not gonna get tired of this sorta thang for a while.

Tonight's ADWH Soundtrack...

... is REALLY strange given I'm running Pandora's Quick Mix, which selects music from all your defined stations.  That means we've heard Glenn Miller followed by Lyle Lovett followed by Wes Montgomery followed by Sinatra followed by this...

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?

Mais certainement!  Ah... memories.  We could go there again but we'll settle for Johnnie Walker Green, a good cigar and better memories.

On the App I LOVE to Hate

Heh.  Zuckerberg IS rich, no doubt about that.  For the moment.  The suckers that bought into the IPO might not be able to say that in a year's time.

Retail Politics

It's been quite some time since a candidate for public office knocked on my door and introduced himself for the purpose of getting acquainted and soliciting my vote.  "Quite some time," in this case means "never"... assuming memory serves.   But we ARE of an age where that's NOT a safe assumption.

Never the less, Mr. Bob Wooley, my representative to the NM state legislature, stopped by today and spent about three minutes with me, handed me a brochure, and gave me the thumbnail sketch of his biography, including the fact he's a Viet Nam vet.  When he mentioned that lil piece of information I replied "me too," at which time he said... immediately, with no hesitation at ALL... "welcome home."  Those two lil words prolly sealed the deal come election day... and the fact he's a Republican doesn't hurt, either.

―:☺:―

Another fun fact: Mr. Wooley stopped by as the coffee was brewing, meaning I hadn't poured my first cup yet.  Two thangs come to mind... (a) he had the great good sense not to bother anyone before the crack o' noon (what with me remaining abed until quite nearly 1300 hrs) and (b) thangs might not have gone nearly so well if Mr. Wooley was a member of that Donkey Party.  A door slam would have been the very BEST he would have received.

Your Hockey Update

I've been pretty quiet about the Conference Finals, but that doesn't mean I ain't watching.  Or falling asleep while watching the Rangers-Devils, about which: neither team means all that much to me.  Well, "means nothing to me" would be more accurate.  The Kings-Feral Dogs series is a horse of a different color, though.  I've watched every single playoff game played by both squads and remain amazed at the success enjoyed by both teams, for different reasons.  The Kings amaze for their stellar goal-tending (I think Quick will win the Conn Smythe), their high-powered offense, and their sheer DESIRE.  Those Kings look hungry and they play like it, too.

Phoenix, OTOH, has been Peter-Principled into the Western Conference Final and have met their match.  I fully expect the sweep will come to pass tomorrow afternoon in El-Eh.  Nice try, guys, but you aren't in the same class as those Kings.

So... in other hockey stuff... we came across an interesting lil article in the NYT while reading the Usual Hockey Source.  It's a paean to the Kings, of a sort, but begins with these words:

The Los Angeles Kings are on a bit of a roll in the Stanley Cup playoffs. But around New York, they cannot seem to rouse contempt for themselves or fans like me. And that is really what all fans want for their teams. You cannot turn around in any city in the United States without running into a Detroit Red Wings fan. They are all over the place, and the world is a little less peaceful for that reason, God bless them. 

The Red Wings, who have an extensive alumni group of top players and have maintained their colors and team crest unchanged, have won 11 championships. 

The Kings, on the other hand, have adopted a number of identities since their inaugural season in 1967-68.

It goes on, of course, and I just had to bring the Wings bits to your attention, yanno?  Now that the Beloved Wings are out of it... have been out of it since the first round... we takes what small amount o' praise we gets.  And WE are every-freakin'-where.

The Usual Saturday Post

I'm prolly the next to the last guy on these inter-tubes to have seen this, what with SN1 telling me a couple o' days ago he shared "Sexy and I Know It" on G+ (about which: haven't been there for at least two months, mebbe more), and with 177,636 Facebook shares and 181 blog posts.  So make that 182.

Noah is pretty danged good, ain't he?  There wasn't anythang else really noteworthy at the Usual Source for these thangs (I let The Guardian do my dirty work) so we went right to the horse's mouth.  I should do that more often.

Can't Let This Slip By

From the Usual USAF Source, which is rarely ALL USAF...

Flying Leatherneck Centennial: The Marine Corps celebrated 100 years of marine aviation with a sunset aerial pass-in-review over the Marine Corps War Memorial in Arlington, Va. "From one generation to the next, marine pilots pass down their legendary fighting spirit," said Defense Secretary Leon Panetta, honoring aviators at the May 16 observance. "For nearly 100 years, marine aviation has demonstrated the adaptability, agility, and unique ethos that come with the title "marine,'" underscored Marine Commandant Gen. James Amos. The treetop fly-past of every aircraft type in current service illustrated the aviators' enduring dictum: "If you are not getting mud on your windshield, you're flying too high," said Panetta. A clattering hoard of helicopters—a CH-53, CH-46, AH-1W, and UH-1N—closely trailed by a KC-130J tanker and V-22 Osprey tilt-rotor aircraft, led a tight formation of jets, including an AV-8, EA-6B, and two F/A-18s, saluting the first flight of marine aviator 1st Lt. Alfred Cunningham on May 22, 1912. (AFPS report by SSgt. Amaani Lyle)

Congrats, Jarheads Marines!

Still More Thievery

We had another late night and slept in again today.  We're still not fully caffeinated, nor have we finished reading the overnight mail, which includes the political cartoons from the Usual Source and news from the Usual USAF Source.  It's getting late, too... so we shall stoop to blatant thievery to check the ol' "did I put sumthin'... anythang... up on the blog today?" box.  From blog-bud IT, just a couple o' days ago:

That's Golf

A father, son and grandson went to the country club for their weekly round of golf. Just as they reached the first tee, a beautiful young blonde woman carrying her bag of clubs approached them.

She explained that the member who brought her to the club for a round of golf had an emergency that called him away and asked the trio whether she could join them.

Naturally, the guys all agreed.

Smiling,the blonde thanked them and said, "Look, fellows, I work in a topless bar as a dancer, so nothing shocks me anymore. If any of you want to smoke cigars, have a beer, bet, swear, tell off-color stories or do anything that you normally do when playing a round together, go ahead. But, I enjoy playing golf, consider myself pretty good at it,so don't try to coach me on how to play my shots."

With that the guys agreed to relax and invited her to drive first.

All eyes were fastened on her shapely behind as she bent to place her ball on the tee. She then took her driver and hit the ball 270 yards down the middle, right in front of the green.

The father's mouth was agape. "That was beautiful," he said.

The blonde put her driver away and said, "I really didn't get into it, and I faded it a little."

After the three guys hit their drives and their second shots, the blonde took out an eight iron and lofted the ball within five feet of the hole. (She was closest to the pin.)

The son said, "Damn, lady, you played that perfectly."

The blonde frowned and said, "It was a little weak,but even an easy seven would have been too much club. I've left a tricky little putt." She then tapped in the five-footer for a birdie.

Having the honors, she drove first on the second hole, knocked the heck out of the ball, and it landed nearly 300 yards away smack in the middle of the fairway.

For the rest of the round the statuesque blonde continued to amaze the guys, quietly and methodically shooting for par or less on every hole.

When they arrived at the 18th green, the blonde was three under par, and had a very nasty 12-foot putt on an undulating green for a par.

She turned to the three guys and said, "I really want to thank you all for not acting like a bunch of chauvinists and telling me what club to use or how to play a shot, but I need this putt for a 69 and I'd really like to break 70 on this course.

If any one of you can tell me how to make par on this hole I'll take him back to my apartment, pour some 35-year-old Single Malt Strath Mill Scotch in him, fix him a steak dinner and then show him a very good time the rest of the night."

The yuppie son jumped at the thought! He strolled across the green, carefully eyeing the line of the putt and finally said, "Honey, aim about 6 inches to the right of the hole and hit it firm. It will get over that little hump and break right into the cup."

The father knelt down and sighted the putt using his putter as a plumb. "Don't listen to the kid, darlin', you want to hit it softly 10 inches to the right and let it run left down that little hogback, so it falls into the cup."

The old gray-haired grandfather walked over to the blonde's ball,
picked it up and handed it to her and said, "That's a gimme, sweetheart."

The blonde smiled and said, "Your car or mine?"

At which we point we burst into laughter... literally... the first time we read this.  And then we got to thinkin' about 35-year-old single malt and shed a tear.  And that wasn't the end of it, either.

Broadening Our Horizons XLVI

Tonight's After Dinner Whiskey Hour libation...

SN1 has been goin' on for a month or so now about how good this stuff is... so I decided to pop for a bottle of it while I was out at the base this morning doin' our usual, customary, and reasonable Scotch re-supply run.  About which... we bought yet another bottle of that Johnnie Walker Green which has become our Scotch of choice lately.  It's not a single malt, granted, but it IS a most-delicious blend of four single malts, none of which are less than 15 years old.  Aside from its wonderful taste it also has the virtue o' bein' significantly cheaper than lesser single-malts and has become the Scotch o' choice here at El Casa Inmóvil de Pennington.  

That said... this Tennessee Honey stuff will garner a permanent place in the likker locker.  Good stuff, Maynard!

―:☺:―

This evening's ADWH soundtrack... 

"Albatross" is one of the top ten all-time BEST guitar instrumentals.  I've had this tune on "repeat" for about the last two hours and it still hasn't gotten old.  Apropos o' nuthin'... my latest musical acquisition, of which "Albatross" is a piece-part, is a four-disc Peter Green Anthology (there are two links there; chase 'em both if you're into the music).  One or more of these discs are destined to take up residence in The Green Hornet, which is where ALL good music goes.  Eventually.

Wrong

My Buddy Ed In Florida sent this, along with other amusing sex quotes (Wanna see 'em all? E-mail me.):

I'm sorry but you're wrong, Mrs. Bush.  Your premise may have been true for your generation but it's much less so these days.  My admittedly anecdotal experience gained since about... oh, 1972 or so... makes me believe that oral sex is endemic amongst American women.  I cannot remember ONE woman with whom I had a relationship during that time who didn't indulge in the practice, for better or worse.  And believe me: I've had BJs that were eminently forgettable.  I've also had memorable ones, too, but it's entirely possible Young Monica didn't have the necessary skills to make her encounter with the Big Dog memorable.

That said... I agree with you: Clinton lied.  But not for the reason you state.

Heh

Just because I didn't post on that dumb-ass "Julia" thang when everyone and their Mom was doin' it doesn't mean I wasn't aware of the brouhaha.  The dust still hasn't settled on that particular piece o' stoopid and prolly won't for quite sometime.  David Burge had the BEST piece on the subject, for my money.  It's here, just in case ya missed it.

―:☺:―

In other news... it's another one of THOSE days.  I'm about to pour my second cup at 1400 hrs and I hate it when that happens, mainly coz half the day is over before I've even begun.  AND that means Happy Hour will be shorter... or later... than usual.

But, Hey!  It is what it is.  If I wanna stay up until oh-dark-thirty and sleep until 1300 hrs, I most certainly will.

Everythang Old Is New Again

I ran out of after-shave about a week ago so I swung by the Base Exchange on one of my trips out to Cannon Airplane Patch to re-supply.  Alas, they no longer carry the Burberry line of scents for men and I didn't like the other stuff they had.  So it was off to Amazon, yet again, and I wasn't disappointed.  We ordered a bottle of Burberry's "Weekend" and received it in short order.  In so doing I thought "I should write a post about after-shave..." but then a bell went off in my head to the effect of "I think you've done that before."  And so I have... about five and a half years ago, in October of '06.  Here's that post, updated with illustrations:

Scents

One of the more interesting, nay, fascinating, things about my recent trip to San Antonio was encountering perfumed women once again. I say “once again” because I cannot, for the life of me, remember the last time (or the first time, for that matter) I caught a whiff of a delicately perfumed woman in Portales. It just doesn’t seem to happen. Perhaps I’m just not hanging out at the “right” sort of places in P-Town. But it was a minor joy to have my olfactory senses treated every so often while in San Antonio. I like perfume, and have enjoyed it on the women in my life from a very early age.

It used to be that women had a “signature” scent, a brand they used almost exclusively. I’m not sure that’s true any longer…perhaps it’s an artifact from a by-gone age. Both my Mom and my grandmother had signature scents. My maternal grandmother was an Evening in Paris woman. Her dressing table was littered with those cobalt-blue bottles and containers, each emblazoned with a silver label with the brand name in flowing script. Evening in Paris was all she ever wore, as far as I know. My grandmother walked around trailing a pink could of Evening in Paris. You could walk into a room she’d vacated an hour ago and know she’d been there.  My mother was quite different in that regard.

Mom was a Chanel No 5 woman (which is hideously expensive these days; you know that if you clicked the link)…none of the upstart “new” Chanel fragrances for her, thank you. Just the original. She applied her perfume in a quick, deft manner that was the grand finale to her toilette ritual—otherwise known as “fixing my face”—a dab behind each ear and a dab in the crook of each elbow. She’d place her index finger over the bottle opening, tilt the bottle quickly on end, apply the dab, repeat. Not much at all, when you came down to it. “There are other places, too, but not for you to know,” she once told me, with a grin and a wink. Which, of course, was lost on me until much later in life. My mother’s use of perfume was subtle to the point one wasn’t really sure she was wearing any at all, but you knew she had a very attractive aroma about her. And that’s the way it should be, to my way of thinking.

The Second Mrs. Pennington wore White Ginger when we first met. White Ginger is a very clean, fresh sort of scent and it drove me nuts, in a very good, extremely good, way. Very appropriate for a young woman, and also very erotic. Perhaps it was the fact I was young and in love. Or perhaps White Ginger was the icing on the cake, so to speak. But whatever it was, that scent, on the rare occasion I encounter it these days, immediately transports me back to Former Happy Days. Interestingly, TSMP developed an allergy to perfume later in life and quit wearing it altogether. She also insisted I quit wearing after-shave, too, because it affected her in the same way.

Which brings me to the subject of male scents, or after-shave. My father, he of the Greatest Generation, used exactly two: Old Spice and Mennen Skin Bracer. That was it. I think that approach was wide-spread among men of his cohort. It was unseemly for men to wear “perfume,” and he told me so in no uncertain terms. So…during my adolescence the only scents in my medicine cabinet were his scents—like father, like son. 

That changed when I went into the military. I remember standing in the common latrine one evening, getting ready to splash some Skin Bracer on after shaving, and having a friend ask “Why are you using that cheap (stuff)?” “Here,” he says, “try this,” handing me his bottle of English Leather. I did. And I got a good comment from the Lady Friend that evening, something on the order of “Wow…you smell good!” (or something to that general effect.) I went to the BX the next day and bought some English Leather. Which, in turn, was followed by Jade East, Canoe, British Sterling, and all sorts of scents. I settled on Canoe and wore that until TSMP insisted I abandon all scent products. Now that I’m single again my “signature” scent is Burberry’s (or Burberry’s Weekend, when I can find it)…and will probably remain so.

Just a dab behind each ear and in the crook of the elbows... Heh.  Not really.  But I DON'T bathe in the stuff.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack... Or: Oooh, She's BACK!

The Brown Truck O' Happiness pulled up to El Casa Inmóvil de Pennington about three hours ago and delivered the last of those six albums I bought recently and we're on our third run-through of that album, as we speak.  It's great good stuff, and here are a couple o' teasers:

Ms. Osborne returns to her roots on this album, roots meanin' Da Blooz and various and sundry take-offs on that idiom, including this:

That's only a teaser... this album is too new for the full version to be available.  Yet.  But lemmee tell ya: this tune had me dancin' ALL around the kitchen for as long as my breath held out.   It's GOOD to hear Ms Osborne get back to what she does best... and Damn!  I certainly do love this album, even at first blush.  It can only get better from here.

Grounds For Impeachment?

Andrew Christie, Patrick Christie, Joba Chamberlain and NJ Governor Chris Christie attend the Ottawa Senators-Rangers Playoff Game at Madison Square Garden. (Article here)

From the Usual Hockey Source:

from Joe DeLessio of New York Magazine,

Here’s Christie, speaking in June of 2010 to the Star-Ledger, in response to a follow-up question about his Dallas Cowboys fandom. The emphasis in the answer is ours:

And you never thought about faking or hiding this?

I don’t nuance much very well (laughs). You know what? I always hated Hillary Clinton wearing a Cubs hat or a Yankees hat. I’m a Cowboys fan, I’m a Mets fan, I’m a Rangers fan, I’m a Knicks fan. I’ve got the Devils and the Nets in New Jersey, but I grew up when the Nets were on Long Island and the Devils didn’t exist. It’s not that I don’t want the Devils to do well. I want them to do well when they’re playing anybody but the Rangers. That’s who I grew up rooting for.

more 

Heh.  If Christie was the gub'ner o' Michigan and said something similar about the Wings he'd be GONE.  Apropos o' everythang... Game One of the ECF, Devils-Rangers, is tonight.

Plane Pr0n...

... of a different sort:

Air Frame: An A-10C from the Arkansas Air National Guard's 188th Fighter Wing undergoes a phase inspection at Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan, May 8, 2012. The phase is one of the most elaborate of maintenance actions, requiring the removal, inspection, and service of hundreds of parts, panels, and mechanisms. At home station, this process would take 45 days to 60 days, but it typically takes just one week at Bagram thanks to round-the-clock work by maintenance crews. There are currently 18 A-10Cs at Bagram—all Air Guard machines flown by Guard pilots. They collectively fly a punishing schedule of 22 sorties a day in three shifts. Two aircraft per flight maintain on-call close air support in the southeast part of Afghanistan, according to officials at Bagram. (AFA photo by John A. Tirpak) (Click on image above to reach wallpaper version.)

From 45~60 days to a week is a significant time reduction, innit?  Not to mention the sortie rate...

From the Usual USAF Source.

Traditions

We have 'em.  And this, the fifth iteration of this post (in part, some stuff has been omitted), is one of 'em.

Happy Mother's Day!

Ah…dog poop. Probably one of the (very) minor reasons my second marriage failed…coz The Second Mrs. Pennington was largely in charge of the particularly odious chore— following behind three dogs, including two pretty good-sized ones— let’s say about 90% of it. And she never hesitated to point out that fact to me.

[...]

But, seriously. Happy Mother’s Day to all my favorite Moms, and even to those who aren’t my favorites. I’ll remain cryptic on that last.

Call yer Mom!  Or better yet, give her a big hug and a kiss if you still can.  There comes a time in life when she won't be around, ya know.

If This Is Saturday...

... then it's Viral Vids time!

You've seen the movie, now read the book.  I did... read it... and it was good.  So good, in fact, that I read it in a single sitting.  And yeah, the book IS better than the movie.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

From that new Norah Jones CD I bought... a song about the wages o' sin:

Miriam
That's such a pretty name
I'm gonna say it when I make you cry
Miriam
You know you done me wrong
I'm gonna smile when you say goodbye

Now I'm not the jealous type
Never been the killing kind 
But you know I know what you did
So don't put up a fight

[...]

Miriam

You know I know you done me wrong

I'm gonna smile when you say goodbye

You know you done me wrong

I'm gonna smile when I take your life 

Mmmm...

I fuckin' LOVE that.

Update, much later that same day:  Here's a professional review of the album.  An excerpt:

Norah Jones is rich, beautiful and has one of the most gorgeous voices in popular music. None of that makes her immune to a broken heart.

Sad for her, good for us. Jones channeled her hurt into a collaboration with Brian “Danger Mouse” Burton with 12 reflections on love gone wrong.

It’s no pick-me-up, obviously. But Jones does more than wallow. She’s angry, defiant, wounded, all-too-willing to slip back into a bad thing and even entertains a murder fantasy — in short, the full range of emotions that anyone feels when a serious relationship ends.

This album might could be the sleeper in the six new additions to my collection.  I find myself listening to it a lot and indulging... once again... in murder fantasies along with Ms. Jones.  Fantasies.  Key word, that... there's no need to alert the authorities.