The Sock Snatch

Behold Lucy striking a pose caught in the very act of defiance and rebellion. My dog is well known for her, how shall I say...idiosyncratic behavior. One example has been brought into sharper focus since Bernadette has come to live with us, the now famous sock snatch.

Lucy has always had a thing for socks, but never quite so much as she has since Bernadettes’s arrival. First of all, she adores her, treats her like a rock star every time she comes home from work. But early on we learned that if she left the door to her room open when she left, this would happen. Lucy would quietly make her way into her room and look for any stray socks on the floor, grab one of them—never two—and bring it with her to our bed, and sit close to it. Nothing more, just sit there...next to her sock. She wouldn’t chew the sock, rip holes in it or anything destructive. Eventually she would leave the sock on our bed and go about the rest of her day. This phenomenon happens every single time Bernadette leaves the entrance to her room unguarded for even just a few minutes. 

Of course, as I have explained to Bernie, this all could be avoided if she wouldn’t leave her socks on the floor. Lucy seems uninterested in any other articles of clothing. The downside to leaving her bedroom door closed all day is that by the time she returns from work the place is an icebox. So early on we devised a work-around...

Lucy respects the gate. Actually, she’s always been slightly afraid of these flimsy barriers. As long as it is in place, she will not even think about trespassing. But Bernadette often forgets. Every single time she does, Lucy slinks in, searching for her prey, grabs one and swiftly retreats. Her favorite  seems to be the engagement ring socks, which she has snapped up multiple times.

So, if there are any dog lovers in this audience, or psychiatrists, or even better...dog psychiatrists, I would appreciate an explanation of this bizarre behavior.

The Best Valentine’s Day Story Ever

This is a very special photograph. It was taken 14 years ago today...

The back story is pretty epic, so much so that I was convinced that I had already blogged about Valentine’s Day, 2007. But, a deep dive into the archives produced no record of the tale. The basic facts are that since Kaitlin was two years old, I had taken her out to breakfast on Valentine’s Day. For years our restaurant of choice was Aunt Sarah’s Pancake House. But then, she went off to college at Cedarville University in Ohio, a seven and a half hour drive. Nevertheless, I made the trip her Freshman year. The following year, 2007, was set to be the year where the streak would end. I was swamped at work trying to make enough money to make the oppressive tuition payments every month. Plus, I had an appointment with a very important client in Wytheville, Va. at 5:00 in the afternoon the day before V-Day. So, I called her a few days before to break the bad news. She seemed totally understanding but a little disappointed. I could tell. My appointment was over at 6:30. I began the long drive home through the backroads of Wythe County. I soon found myself at the stop light near the exit onto Interstate 77. Head south to connect to 81 to go home or head north on 77 to Charleston, WVa. I hesitated. The drive to Cedarville was only four and a half hours. Maybe I could surprise her. I made a quick call to Pam. She gave me the go ahead. I made the decision and took off north. Only one problem. I was headed into a snowstorm that started just outside of Charleston and never let up. By the time I made it to Route 35 is what coming down so hard I couldn’t go any faster than 35 miles per hour. Couldn’t see a thing. It occurred to me that I might have made a terrible call. By the time I limped into the motel parking lot down the street from the University it was 2 o’clock in the morning and there was six inches of fresh snow on the ground.

The next morning, I drove to Katlin’s dorm parking lot at 7:00. I knew she had morning classes. I called her cell phone to wish her a happy Valentine’s Day. She thanked me, sounding down, “I wish we could go to breakfast this morning” My answer was, “Well, we might be able to work something out if you can meet me in the parking lot in five minutes.”

For the life of me I don’t remember where I got those flowers. We had a wonderful hour together, then I had to start the miserable drive home. LAter that day Kaitlin called me with a story. She was in her second class of the day when she overheard a couple of people talking. One of them says, “Did you hear about that girl who’s dad drove through a snowstorm all night so he could take her to breakfast on Valentine’s Day?” For that one day, Kaitlin was a rock star on the campus of Cedarville University. It was one of the very dumbest and very best things I ever did as a Father. Neither of us will ever forget it.

An Exhilarating Hour

This afternoon I was up in my reading room, settling in to my trusty recliner, when I opened up my browser and spotted yet another email from Zillow. For the past year or so I have been obsessed with lake house hunting in Maine, so these Zillow emails are a daily occurrence. I always open them even though at least 50% of them are for land only, another 40% are dumpy little shacks on some lake I’ve never heard of two hours from Camden, and the rest of them are for multi-million dollar estates. Yet, I open every single email thinking maybe, just maybe, this might be the one.

Imagine my surprise when I discover that today’s featured camp is on Quantabacook, a mere six camps up the lake from Loon Landing?! I thought I might fall out of the chair I was so excited. I immediately sent the link to A. My real estate agent, Tiffany Ford and B. Carolyn and Keith May, the owners of Loon Landing who know everyone on the lake and serve as our eyes and ears. They also have the distinction of being the sweetest, most generous people in Maine and since we love their camp so much they know exactly the sort of place we are looking for. 

The next hour was a whirlwind of texts, pictures, tax assessment statements, and a million unanswerable questions flying back and forth. The basic facts were that this place was built in 1940 but had just gone under a complete overhaul and upgrade. It had a main house close to the water’s edge with two bedrooms and a full bath, along with a guest house out back with a third bedroom and bath. This was no show-stopper like Loon Landing, but it was on the perfect lake, and the inside was quite charming. But in real estate, like in real life, it’s easy to get ahead of yourself. As my wise friend Keith May observed, “If you love something, it makes you pay.” How much, you ask?

Ok, the main house weighs in at a tidy and cramped 900 square feet. The camp is seasonal, which means you could only use it from May to October. It has no fireplace. Did I mention it’s only 900 square feet? That’s smaller than Nancy Pelosi’s walk-in closet! On the plus side, it comes with a 2011 Bayliner boat. All of this for a cool....$595,000.

Gulp...

Tiffany warns me that it will not go for any less, and frankly, will probably become the subject of a bidding war with someone from New York City who won’t care that the place is only assessed by the town of Searsmont at $258,000. He’s gonna pay cash anyway. 

She then explains that the market has been taken over by rich city people who are distorting values, but in a couple more years will be gone and prices will then drift back to something resembling normal. Further, she suggested that even if we have to rent for a couple more years, that would be better than paying $200,000 too much for a camp that you can only use for half the year. 

So, after an hour of exhilaration and wild dreams, eventually cooler heads prevailed. But one day, someday, we are going to find our camp.

Wonder how much this place will eventually go for??

A Friday Ramble

Woke up to somewhere between 3-4 inches of snow, with freezing drizzle coming down. My man Andrew Freiden tells me that the temperature will be hovering around 32 degrees for the next 48 hours with intermittent sleet, freezing drizzle and general suckiness for the entire weekend. My one appointment for this morning cancelled last night. So, it would appear that you’re in for a meandering post this morning.

First off..here’s a list of a few books that haven’t been written yet but surely need to be:

“How to Write Big Books” by Warren Peace

“The Art of Archery” by Beau N. Arrow

“Irish Heart Surgery” by Angie O’Plasty

“School Truancy” by Marcus Absent

“I Lost My Balance” by Eileen Dover and Phil Down

“Positive Reinforcement” by Wade Ago

“The Philippine Post Office” by Imelda Letter

“Things to Do at a Party” by Bob Frapples

Second...last night Pam asked me what I thought of the Impeachment trial going on in the Senate. I was a little embarrassed to answer that I hadn’t seen any of it. “Haven’t you even read anything about it?” She asked? Another embarrassed “no”. I could offer several reasons why I have not been engaged in Impeachment II, but primarily it boils down to two...Trump fatigue, and the fact that there seems no way possible that 67 votes will be found to convict. Plus, it is extraordinarily difficult to prove intent. I have my opinions on what Trump was up to leading up to that riot, but they hinge on my belief that he knew exactly what he was doing, firing up a mob and hoping they would storm the capital and put steel into his Vice-President’s spine. But, that’s my opinion based on my judgement, not a fact based, provable allegation. Today, I’m sure his defense lawyers will present a parade of Democrats using similarly inflamed rhetoric suggesting violence at some point or another. There’s been a ton of stupid rhetoric flying around these past few years so it should be easy to find. They will try to make the point that politicians of all stripes say dumb things. True. Of course all dumb talk doesn’t produce a riot inside the Capitol building, but I guess that amounts to a quibble. I’m thinking the vote will be somewhere around 56-44 to convict, falling far short of the 67 votes required. Then, can we all just close the book on TRUMP already? 

Have you guys ever messed around on the Ancestry.com website? It’s pretty cool. The other day I was poking around and decided to do a little research on Vincent Van Gogh. Absolutely fascinating!!

Because It’s Thursday...

*I’ve started telling everyone about the benefits of eating dried grapes.

It’s all about raisin awareness....

*What did the surgeon say to the patient who insisted on closing up their own incision?

Suture self...

*What do you say to comfort a friend who’s struggling with grammar?

There, their, they’re...

*I got over my addiction to chocolate, marshmallows, and nuts.

But I won’t lie, it was a rocky road...

*Bono and Edge walk into a Dublin bar and the bartender says...

“Oh no, not U2 again.”

*I lost my girlfriend’s audiobook, and now...

I’ll never hear the end of it.

*Why is it unwise to share your secrets with a clock?

Because eventually time will tell...

The Garland Kids Strike Again

This afternoon, right after taking an extraordinarily odd call from a client, my doorbell rang. Lucy immediately stirred from a deep sleep, barking like a maniac. As I hurried down the stairs I saw the sweet faces of Sully and Kennedy, my neighbor kids. I opened the door and there they all were, Sully and Kennedy, with their big brother Cash and a friend of his on bikes behind them, obviously providing the muscle of the operation...since the girls were delivering my Girl Scout Cookie order. At my feet, their dog Vander peered up at me with rugged nonchalance. Kennedy handed me a grocery bag, “Here’s your cookies, Mr. Doug.”

I looked into the bag, having completely forgotten what I had ordered. Thankfully, Sully was fully up to speed, “There’s thin mints and caramel deLights and the new ones, the toast yay’s!!” Cash’s friend then offered his professional opinion that the new ones...the aforementioned toast yay’s were the bomb.

Then, I asked the obvious question, “Ok girls, have I already paid for these? I already paid for these, right?” Just as Sully began reassuring me that I had, in fact, paid in full, Cash blurts out, “Here’s how this works. We hand over the cookies and you hand over the money.” Kennedy jumped in with, “You already paid!!” I give Cash a sinister look as a mischievous smile spreads over his face.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is why I don’t want anything to do with a retirement community.

So, now that the 2021 GS Cookies have arrived, I am taking it upon myself to sample each and offer my food critic review...

On the far left we have what was formerly known as Samoas, but have now, inexplicably, been reintroduced as Caramel deLights. Perhaps a complaint was lodged by representatives of the American Samoa Anti-Defamation League, pressure was applied and that was that. Nevertheless, I can fully attest that nothing has changed about the flavor of these creations. They still melt in your mouth, the coconut shavings sprinkled on the top the crowning achievement.

Then, of course, no GS cookie collection would be complete without the iconic Thin Mint, the crack cocaine of fund raising treats. Crisp, chocolate goodness followed by the cool breeze of mint make this the classic go-to cookie to satisfy that craving for worthless calories. Pro-Tip...pairs extremely well with coffee.

Finally, the new kid on the block, the much ballyhooed toast yay’s. As a generally conservative man, I am naturally suspicious of new things. My reasoning is that if the GS cookie universe needed a new cookie, God would create a new disease for it to contribute to. I mean, if it ain’t broke don't fix it. The package practically gushes...French Toast-inspired cookies dipped in delicious icing and full of flavor in every bite. Yay. I rolled my eyes at their arrogance, “I’ll be the judge of that,” I snapped. I took the first bite and was overcome with a foreboding thought that I was forever hooked. These babies, to quote noted cookie aficionado,  Cash’s friend, are in fact...the bomb.

So, once again my diet strategies have been foiled by the notorious Garland Kids. Who am I kidding. For as long as they are our next door neighbors we will buy every thing they are selling. Every fundraiser, every lemonade stand, every entrepreneurial project they hatch will have us as the first customer. Why? Several reasons. When our kids were that age they sold everything from soup to nuts for either Little League, church or school. So, it’s cosmic payback. But most importantly, if you saw these kids you would realize that we are powerless against their charms, the ultimate soft target. When you’re a sucker for adorable children, you better have your wallet ready.

The Tempest is Back

Maybe you’ve noticed, probably not. I’ve taken a week off from The Tempest. Going a week without writing here is a rare thing. In the ten plus years since I’ve had this blog it’s only happened twice. This time I wasn’t sick or out of the country. I just got tired of hearing myself think. This time of year is the busiest for my business. I meet with clients to conduct annual reviews, one after another, non-stop. By the end of the day I am sick of the sound of my own voice. I am equally tired of thinking too heavily about things. So instead of writing blogs I have been flooding my Facebook feed with Dad Jokes. I explained it to my daughter this way...What’s better for humanity, bad Dad Jokes or political opinions?

Here’s the thing about jokes, making them doesn’t mean you’re not a serious human being. All it does is provide evidence that you are a human being. Yes, yes, I understand that these are serious times in which we live and very important things are happening which require serious thinking etc..etc. but along with all this seriousness comes mental exhaustion. It is simply impossible to devote yourself to earnestness 24/7 without becoming a colossal bore.

“But, how can you crack jokes about something as important as...” is a common refrain I hear from my more serious friends, to which my answer is always something along the lines of...Why not? Who died and put you in charge of humor?

So, yes, I consider myself a reasonably serious person who cares about very important things. But honestly there is nothing any more fun than cracking a joke during the middle of a highly charged political debate, especially when its at your own expense! To that end I had the following discussion with my daughter the other day:

Me: I want to start a movement on Facebook where every political rant gets answered with a similarly themed Dad Joke. Something along these lines: “The election was stolen from Trump!” Answer: “Not only that but the thieves made off with all the toilets at the Justice Department and now the FBI has nothing to go on!”

Kaitlin: Great!!

Me: Now, you try one.

Kaitlin: Ok. Give me a political rant suggestion.

Me: “Say what you want about Trump, but he was the most pro-LIFE president we’ve ever had!”

Kaitlin: Well, you know what they say, “Beggars can’t be CHOOSERS.”

Me: EXCELLENT. See how easy that was? Here was mine, “Maybe so, but sales of Cheerios and Frosted Flakes have tanked!!”

On a different subject, Tom Brady just won his seventh Super Bowl, the halftime of which featured a singer who I had never heard of...a first. Sure there have been other acts that I didn’t know very well, but this was the first one who I didn’t even know existed. The Weeknd. He’s Canadian, I’m told. What did I think? I don’t know really. Since I had never heard any of his music before I have no opinion on how well he performed them, because I have nothing to compare them to. I’ll say this for him...he was fully clothed and his performance lacked any pelvic thrusting gyrations into the camera. In fact the entire show seemed devoid of any sexual subtext...a rarity anymore. Much has been said about the underwear headgear of his army of marchers. I just figured it was a way to stay compliant with the mask mandate. The only thing about the show that set me back was when the jockstrap-wearing dancers started goose-stepping in unison—an extraordinarily bad look—after everything we’ve gone through in the past year! But, I’m thinking that The Weeknd is probably far too young to comprehend the historical optics of the goose step.

Oh...and here’s some great news!!

So, there you have it. The Tempest is back, as incoherent and scattered as ever.

Reader: You’re back? I didn’t even know you were gone!!