Happy Turkey Day!

Indians in mind, for one day

BY Mark Anthony Rolo

I usually try to keep a low profile when Thanksgiving comes around. As an American Indian, one has to be careful about admitting to the guilty pleasures of enjoying a turkey feast.

White liberals are shocked to learn that Indians could celebrate a holiday that is essentially a funeral for them -- "You're commemorating your own cultural death?" White conservatives like to use the holiday to make mention that "Indians are the ones who should be thankful for all we've done to civilize them."

Yes, considering that I spend most of the year thinking and writing about the plight of my Indian people, Thanksgiving is my day of rest.

And considering what a lousy cook I am, imagine my delight last year when I discovered "turkey in a bag" for under 20 bucks. It's loaded with seasoning and does its own basting right inside the bag. Just pop it in the oven and in a few hours, juicy turkey is served.

Of course, it's tough to enjoy the bird when you've got white liberal guests reminding you that sports mascots like the Cleveland Indians' Chief Wahoo continue to degrade and dehumanize "your people." And it's even harder to taste the tart canned cranberries when you've got a white conservative telling you to quit the victim game and "learn to pull yourself up by your bootstraps."

My favorite part of the Thanksgiving meal is the microwaveable stuffing. Again, no bother with having to add seasoning. But the plight of American Indians intrudes again. "How can you stuff your face knowing full well that the poverty rate on most reservations is among the highest in the country!"

"Is that so," I reply. "I never grew up on my reservation. But I have to tell you being the poorest family on the block on Milwaukee's south side, we were lucky to even have a turkey."

"More stuffing, please?"

White conservatives don't like to talk about genocide, land stealing and smallpox. "Please! With all the casino money you people are raking in, one would think you'd learn to forgive and forget."

That would seem to make perfect sense, except for the fact that I, like most other Indians in this country, are not members of those few tribes that rake in big casino bucks. "Anyone have room for pumpkin pie?"

Football truly rounds out the day of thanks. Naturally, you have to be discreet about which team you root for. Among white liberals, the Cowboys are not America's team. "I resent embracing the mythic reminder about how our rogue forefathers stole the West!" White conservatives do not really have much comment on the game, unless the Redskins are on the schedule. "What is so wrong with 'Redskins'? Can't you see how your people's pride and warrior skills are being honored?"

A few years ago, I was stuck out of town on business and I decided to slip into a restaurant to enjoy Thanksgiving in peace, among strangers. But as I sat there enjoying my turkey plate special alone, I got to thinking that maybe I should talk about the Indian plight during the holiday.

"After all," I said to the waitress, "Thanksgiving is the only time white people think about Indians."

(Mark Anthony Rolo is a member of the Bad River Band of Ojibwe in Wisconsin.)

Happy Birthday to Me!

Yes, today is my 50th birthday and I have the sudden urge to read AARP Magazine. Not really, just kidding. Please stop sending them to me.

So far, it's been a pretty good one and it's only 11 AM. My brother and SIL are taking us out tomorrow night, I've gotten lots of cards (both real and ecards), a co-worker is taking me out to lunch at a French restaurant and oh, I'm engaged!

LOL! Yes, I am thrilled. No, I didn't expect it, especially at my ripe old age. Wow. My engagment ring, while beautiful, does not fit, as I have skinny piano fingers. But we're taking it for adjustment this weekend. (What IS that little piece called that they insert into the ring to make it fit?) I ALWAYS have a problem with rings and bracelets fitting.

We will most likely get married in the summer, probably at home since neither one of us have any money left after buying a house. But that's what we want, small and sweet, just family and close friends. All right, maybe some dogs. :-)

In fact, I joked to Tom that we should tell all our friends that we're getting married so we can have puppies. LOL!

So far, unless you're reading this blog, I have only told my best girlfriend and my siblings. I will only tell select co-workers because the women around here go BATSO if theere's a hint of an engagement or if someone brings in a baby. (No danger of THAT happening!)

So, that's it, on this sunny, crisp November 16 day.

I am very happy. I don't get too many days like this one.

From a Trekkie Friend's Blog:

Autographed Star Trek Phasers, Communicators to Go On Sale Next Week

http://gizmodo.com/gadgets/high_end-memorabilia/autographed-star-trek-phasers-communicators-to-go-on-sale-next-week-322213.php

"A serious Star Trek fan and collector died recently, and an anonymous tipster sent us pictures of the Star Trek memorabilia he left behind. Here's a heads up to dedicated Trekkies everywhere: These items will be appearing on eBay next week, so check out the gallery on the next page; maybe there's something you'd care to bid on.

"There are prop replica phasers, communicators and a pinball machine in the lot, all in pristine condition, and some are autographed by William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy and Patrick Stewart. There's no information about pricing, but these precious artifacts probably won't be cheap."

Wow. Just. Wow.

FIOS and "The Purge"

When we moved, we decided to get Verizon FIOS because 1. it's cheaper than Comcast and 2. it's the fastest Internet service you can get, short of having a T1 connection (like I have at work).

So, I come home last Friday night and the phone and TVs work great but the computer? Don't even go there. Everytime I try to connect to the Internet, it freezes up on me. WTF? This is what we paid for? Why didn't the installer stick around to make sure everything was working? Grrrr! This kind of shit burns me up.

I called Verizon and I wait about 25 minutes to speak with a tech. Finally, Ed comes on the line and I tell him my problem. To make a long story short, we run all kinds of diagnostics on it and it appears that it is not Verizon FIOS that's the problem but my computer. I give Ed props, though. He stayed on the line with me for about an hour and went over everything before he ruled out Verizon. Basically, he told me that my problem is "outside of the realm of Verizon."

OK. What next? I found an old business card from one of those Mom & Pop tech companies (like Geek Squad). I call 'em up and someone, Omar, comes out the next day, a Saturday. Diagnosis? Corrupted file(s) and not enough memory to run XP. (Why didn't Microsoft inform me of that when I loaded the XP?) He had my computer back to me on Sunday! I was VERY impressed. And it only cost me $210. Hey, it's cheaper than buying a new machine. That was the good news.

The bad news is that my hard drive had to be virginized. That is, EVERYTHING had to come off and be reinstalled. That means all my docs, pix, whatever. He said if he put them back on and one or more them was infected with a virus, I could have the same problem again. He did double my RAM, though, to 510, which is optimal for XP. You would not BELIEVE how fast this thing is now. BF & I always used to complain how slow it was and I was always running Spybot to remove adware, shareware, whatever. It would work for awhile and then be slow as molasses the next week.

As it turns out, I was of sound enough mind to either save my photos to disc or Snapfish so nothing of importance is gone. I had to recreate a couple of BF's business forms but that's about it. I'm sure, down the road, I'll be looking for a document and then remember, "oh yeah," but dems da breaks. I am loving the fast 'puter!

Apparently, I Don't Deserve a First Name

In short, we have moved into our new home and we are loving it. It's soooo surreal, wrapping my brain around the fact that I am a home/property owner!

Tom has already painted the dining room and it looks gorgeous (pictures promised). It's now crimson with white trim which nicely offsets the built-in white China cabinets.

Yes, moving is a bitch, the physical and mental aspects of it. As bad as I thought dealing with mortgage folks was, moving ranks even lower in the depths of Hell.

Gradually, things are being put away into their rightful places, furnishings are being put together, old grandma curtains are coming down to be replaced by new ones. This weekend will be spent raking the lawn, hanging up pictures, and buying a few things like new bathroom towels, curtains and such. It's coming together.

You're probably wondering about the title of this post so here it is. Yesterday, I arrived home and found an envelope addressed to me in my mailbox. But it was just my last name in bold caps, as if I was a private in the Army. It was my first property tax bill! (Do I dare have it framed?) I was a little put out by this being that our taxes are included in our monthly mortgage payment. A quick call to my mortgage rep assured me that I was NOT being billed twice, it was just a record that I should file away with all my other pertinent papers.

But, yanno? It would have been nice for the Township of West Orange to convey that. And, while we're on the subject, a welcome note would have been nice. Even a friggin' form letter would have been an improvement. How about, "Dear____: Welcome to West Orange! We hope you enjoying living here, blah-blah-blah..." something like that. And how about including my first name on the correspondence? Bureaucrats! They're everywhere.

This Is It!

Just got word from my attorney that my closing is Nov.1 at 3 PM. This it it, folks. I am signing my life away!

I'm excited but scared. I know that's normal but I really DO hate signing papers. I mean, I know what it's like for buying a car so I can just imagine the papers I have to sign for a house.

I am glad that all this jazz will be over. But then I've got moving to which to look forward; that takes place Nov. 5. We're trying to be good, packing up a little bit day by day. Plus, we don't have to be out in one day because we decided to pay an extra month of rent for that very reason. Sound advice from my friend, Deborah, in North Carolina. Thanks, Deb, I owe ya one!

Boy, will I need a BIG DRINK after this!

And Away We Go!

We should be in our new home on Nov. 5, God willing.

Have to share one bit of funniness with ya'all. Tom, the quintessential packrat, has taken to retrieving just about EVERYTHING I'm throwing out, saying, "Honey, what are you throwing THIS out for?" or "You're not throwing THIS away, are you?"

Yes, I am because I don't want our new house to resemble Sanford & Son. But, he replies, our new house is four times the size! Yes, and that means that it can hold four times the junk and I am not having any of it.

I think I'll save the real purging for when he's not home. :-)

{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{SIGH}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}

Current Mood: amused

Bush's Mistake

I have no clue who Ed Barr is but he wrote this powerful piece that someone shared with me today:

President Bush did make a bad mistake in the war on terrorism. But the mistake was not his decision to go to war in Iraq. Bush's mistake came in his belief that this country is the same one his father fought for in WWII. It is not.

Back then, they had just come out of a vicious depression. The country was steeled by the hardship of that depression, but they still believed fervently in this country. They knew that the people had elected their leaders, so it was the people's duty to back those leaders.

Therefore, when the war broke out the people came together, rallied behind, and stuck with their leaders, whether they had voted for them or not or whether the war was going badly or not.

And war was just as distasteful and the anguish just as great as it is today. Often there were more casualties in one day in WWII than we have had in the entire Iraq war. But that did not matter. The people stuck with the President because it was their patriotic duty. Americans put aside their differences in WWII and worked together to win that war.

Everyone from every strata of society, from young to old pitched in. Small children pulled little wagons around to gather scrap metal for the war effort. Grade school students saved their pennies to buy stamps for war bonds to help the effort.

Men who were too old or medically 4F, lied about their age or condition trying their best to join the military. Women doubled their work to keep things going at home. Harsh rationing of everything from gasoline to soap, to butter was imposed, yet there was very little complaining.

You never heard prominent people on the radio belittling the President. Interestingly enough in those days there were no fat cat actors and entertainers who ran off to visit and fawn over dictators of hostile countries and complain to them about our President. Instead, they made upbeat films and entertained our troops to help the troops' morale. And a bunch even enlisted!

And imagine this: Teachers in schools actually started the day off with a Pledge of Allegiance, and with prayers for our country and our troops!

Back then, no newspaper would have dared point out certain weak spots in our cities where bombs could be set off to cause the maximum damage. No newspaper would have dared complain about what we were doing to catch spies.

A newspaper would have been laughed out of existence if it had complained that German or Japanese soldiers were being 'tortured' by being forced to wear women's underwear, or subjected to interrogation by a woman, or being scared by a dog or did not have air conditioning.

There were a lot of things different back then. We were not subjected to a constant bombardment of pornography, perversion and promiscuity in movies or on radio. We did not have legions of crackheads, dope pushers and armed gangs roaming our streets.

No, President Bush did not make a mistake in his handling of terrorism. He made the mistake of believing that we still had the courage and fortitude of our fathers. He believed that this was still the country that our fathers fought so dearly to preserve.

It is not the same country. It is now a cross between Sodom and Gomorra and the land of Oz. We did unite for a short while after 9/11, but our attitude changed when we found out that defending our country would require some sacrifices.

We are in great danger. The terrorists are fanatic Muslims. They believe that it is okay, even their duty, to kill anyone who will not convert to Islam. It has been estimated that about one-third or over three hundred million Muslims are sympathetic to the terrorists cause...Hitler and Tojo combined did not have nearly that many potential recruits.

So...we either win it - or lose it - and you ain't gonna like losing.

America is not at war. The military is at war. America is at the mall.



Ed Barr

It's Time Once Again for Ja Da!

http://jeffcovey.net/tmp/trazan/

Bugsies on the Water (from Oregon Collection)

We Interrupt Your Regular Program...

Do you remember what the weather was like last Sunday, Oct. 7? I do. To refresh your memory, that the was day that they cancelled the Chicago Marathon halfway through, where someone died on the course. When the temps hit 92 degrees at noon. I don't even know what the humidity was but it was way up there.

Well, that was also the day that I, and some of my running club buds, were doing the Long Beach Island 18 Miler, a race I've done 4 years in a row with no consequence. My goal was to beat my best time of 2:47. I finished in 3:08. That should tell you something, but it doesn't tell you the whole story which is here, taken from the Essex Running Club web board:


"I should add that I felt fine during the race and at the finish. Yes, it was very hot but as my time attests (Yikes! That's slower than my Philly Marathon pace!), I wasn't trying to be a hero today. I took walk breaks after every 3 miles and around mile 9, I just wanted to finish.

"After the race, I hooked up with Tom at the post-race party at the finish area. I collected my stuff and changed into dry clothes in the bathroom. It was while I was changing that I began to feel well, weird. I didn't feel as if I was going to lose consciousness but I definately did NOT feel like myself. I knew I had to get outside and get fresh air. I found a bench in the shade and lied down. Then it hit me: I had the absolute worst calf cramps I had ever had in my life! So bad, that I could not move my legs without horrific pain. Then my arms began to go numb. I was VERY scared. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before.

"I saw Tom come out of the men's room and I yelled to him. I told him that something was not right (I think I scared the bejesus out of him). He ran to get the medics.

"An EMT guy came over and immediately put me at ease. He said I was going to be all right, I was just having lactic acid build up. He kept telling to try to calm down and take deep breaths. It was decided (not by me!) that I should be taken by ambulance to the hospital for observation. Once in the ambulance, I was put on oxygen and within minutes my legs began to feel better and the feeling came back into my arms.

"At the hospital, everything checked out fine: blood pressure, temperature (it was actually a bit BELOW normal). I was told that I suffered from mild heat exhaustion due to loss of electrolytes and build up of lactic acid. They kept asking me if I had any Gatorade on the course. I told them that took Gatorade and water every chance I could get. The problem was that the Gatorade wasn't being offered until about mile 10 or 11 or so! It really should have been made available from the beginning, especially in temps like we had yesterday.

"I should also add that for the first 3 or so miles, there were major problems with the water stations. One station actually ran out of cups, another had those spring water containers with the push button. Do you know how long it takes to fill cups with those? Runners had to actually stop and wait while cups were being filled, crowding the water stations. The organizers should have been better prepared, especially on a hot day like that.

"When I got to the ER, almost all of the units were being occupied by other runners! One RN actually remarked: "Whose bright idea was it to hold an 18 mile race today?" From what I was told, there were people there in a lot worse shape than me; one was brought in with a fever of 105, another couldn't even remember his name. I hope they all made it out OK.

"After being released, Tom & I hitched a ride back via ambulance to St. Francis where the awards ceremony and post-race banquet took place. I stepped out of the ambulance and I felt like Paris Hilton being released from jail: I was immediately surrounded by volunteers who began clapping the minute I walked through the door! I never dreamed my red carpet moment would be like this.

"I plan to write a letter of praise and appreciation to the EMT staff. They were terrific. They responded quickly and put my mind at ease and were just all-around nice folks. Thanks to Tom for not freaking out, thanks to Mick for his patience and to everyone (Lynne, Catherine) who called and expressed their concern. I am feeling 100 percent better today (just suffering the humiliation of my horrible finishing time)."

What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been!

In a nutshell: Yes, we bought a house!

Is it the house we were orginally going to put a bid on? No.

Here's the story:

After we lost the house in Verona (the one where another buyer bid over the asking price), we began looking again, this time in Bloomfield. I found a gorgeous (or so I thought) Victorian on the Weichert web site. Again, pictures lie. You think I would have learned my lesson by now, but nooo!

Inside, the house needed mucho work. The kitchen was a mess and the backyard, which was described as "big and wonderful," was actually neither and sloped off clifflike into an abyss. Also, smallish rooms, choppy layout. Not for us.

Then we looked at 2 houses on the same street in Bloomfield. Neither one was really to our liking. Rooms were smallish, one had practically no kitchen cabinets, and the houses were very close together.

As we had gone running that morning, we were tired and planned to go home to take a nap. That's when our Realtor called. She found a great 3 BR Cape Cod in Roseland in a wonderful neighborhood in our price range. Sounded too good to be true but we were off.

She was right: The house WAS adorable. The neighborhood, grand. I have a soft spot in my heart for Roseland, having grown up there. We even met the owners, a 60-ish couple who were retiring and who had lived in the house for 35 years. The piece de resistance was their gorgeous Lab mix, Willie, who was the size of small pony but gentle as ever.

I recognized the value in this house. It was very well cared for, just need minor cosmetic work. The yard was cool; after all, Willie liked it and he was bigger than any dog we would ever get. I was ready to put in an offer the next night.

But something didn't sit right with Tom. He was bothered by the fact that this house had only one bathroom--and it was on the first floor. "You know how many times I get up at night to use the bathroom!" he said. Not to worry, those of you who are reading this. He doesn't have cancer or diabetes (he was checked for both). It's just the way he is. He gets very thirsty at night and drinks a lot of water. I know this is TMI for many folks but I wanted to put everyone's mind at rest.

So, we'll put in a second bath, I replied weakly, hearing the sound of an imaginary cash register going "Ka-ching!" inside my head. More money to spend. But, we'd be buying a house in Roseland. And the taxes were HALF of what Verona's and the surrounding towns are.

And then God intervened. We were coming back from a race on Sunday and we were driving through West Orange. I hadn't thought to look for a house in West Orange. Not that I have anything against it, it just hadn't occurred to me. I always mistakenly assumed West Orange was full of split-level Levittown horrors and Mc Mansions. I was wrong.

We saw lots of For Sale signs in West Orange and Tom suggested we go home, shower up and hit some of them. I noted a couple of the addresses and went home to check them out on the Net. Son of a gun, there was one on a dead end street, no less, in our price range: a 4 BR, 2 full bath Cape, with a nice yard with a deck, nice-looking photos of the rooms (I know, I know). Off we went.

Well, Tom fell in love before I did. I just couldn't wrap my brain around living in West Orange, forgive me. But the more I walked around, the more I warmed up to it. The rooms were very spacious and there were 4 of them! Two full baths, one up, one down. Fugly 1950s tiles but in good condition. Kitchen was in good shape, with plenty of knotty pine cabinets and a deck leading out to a great yard with a dog run(nicer than the yard in Roseland). Spacious living room, dining room with built-in, catty-cornered China cabinets (my fave thing about the whole house!)

In fact, there were LOTS of built-ins throughout. Someone, somewhere must have been a carpenter. Basement is partially finished and dry as a bone. And a workshop for Tom!

To make this very long story short, we put in a bid $15,000 less than the asking price and we got it! The owner is already in her new home and is desperate to sell.

I just got word that the attorney review has been completed and I scheduled the inspection for Wednesday. I pray they don't find any surprises!

We close in November...yikes. But it's a kinda good "Yikes!"

Will You Be My Lawfully Wedded House?

Do you take this Cape Cod to be your lawfully wedded house, in (financial) sickness and in health?

Well, it's nitty-gritty time here at Martta's World. Tonight I am putting an offer on the house in Verona that we both like. I understand that there are 2 other offers pending. My offer is for about $10,000 less because if it comes to negotiation, I want the seller to pay for a French drain in the basement.

We looked at another comparable home in Verona but it needed more work, especially the kitchen. Plus, it was listed as a 3BR but the third BR was actually the basement that was converted into a BR! Not fair guys, especially since you also list a basement. You can't have it both ways, it's either a basement or a bedroom. So, we were put off by that.

We wanted to see another cute Cape Cod in Caldwell that was supposed to have an open house on Sunday. We got there and the sign said "Open House Cancelled." Bummer! Just as we were walking away, the owner drove up. We explained why we were there and he said, "My wife wanted to fix a few things up before we open the house. Call the Realtor if you want to see it during the week."

Now this tells me one of two things.

1. His wife wants to hide the bodies.
2. They are not truly motivated to sell.

If they were truly motivated (especially in this market!), he would have invited us in to look around. This tells us that there's something else going on there. My Realtor agreed. So, we're not going to bother going back. It's also a mite higher than we wanted to spend.

I will keep you posted about our offer. Send pixie dust, please!

I Think I'm in Love!

With a house, you sillies. Don't get all excited! :-)

Anyhoo, we looked at 3 more houses tonight after work. One in Verona, one in West Caldwell that I've had my eye on for awhile, and one in Caldwell.

First stop: Verona. This is where I fell in love. Adorable cottage-style Cape Cod on quaint street. The listing said 2BR but the second BR is actually a tandem bedroom which means it's a bedroom with an attached space. Perfect for a couple with no kids (us) and perfect for a computer/trophy room.

The house is in terrific condition, everything from the kitchen (recently remodeled), the roof (10 years old), the exterior (freshly painted). Nice yard, flat and deep, perfect for a dawg. Fireplace, clean unfinished basement, screened-in porch in the back, nice details like wall molding, two-car garage. All in all, move in ready. The only thing we'd do is rip up the fugly old wall-to-wall carpeting (we both hate wall-to-wall, especially other people's!) There are hardwood floors underneath.

Really, the nicest one we've seen so far. So nice that I am thinking of making an offer. The price is right: $399,000 but my Realtor says that because it's new to the market, I have very little wiggle room as far as negotiation. Especially since it's in such good condition. I have 2 more to look (they're not on till this weekend). Tom is on the same page as me about this one.

Second stop: Caldwell, a 3BR colonial priced at $375,000. The. worse. one. I've. seen. yet. Not only a handyman's special, but dirty and chock full of crap piled EVERYWHERE. Granted, the people are getting ready to move but my Gawd! I had to walk sideways through some rooms because there was so much junk. Moldy ceiling in the bathroom, Toilet looked as if it hadn't been cleaned since the year 1. Kitchen as old as my grandma. I didn't even want to see the basement. Next!

Third stop: West Caldwell. The things that attracted me to this house were the unusual architecture. The house is set back from the street and has one of those low-maintenance yards with lots of flowers, very little actual lawn, which we like.
Plus the driveway is bookended by two gorgeous stone walls. We both like stone.

The other thing I like is that the front of the house sports a huge balcony that stretches from one end to the other. Perfect for entertaining.

The inside, however, was disappointing. Lowish ceilings and a very cramped feeling. This is due, in part, to the fact that the family living there has humongous furnishings which dwarf the rooms. Also, the layout of the house doesn't flow well. Most of the land is in the front of the year, therefore there is no real backyward for a dawg.

This house is priced at $449,000, higher than my budget but I figured that because it's been on the market since May, there'd be some wiggle room. But, it's a moot point anyway since it's not for us.

So, the Realtor is previewing another Cape for me tomorrow in Caldwell. It's priced at $429,000 but the neighborhood is sweet. She'll let me know how it compares to the one I love.

Then there's another one in Verona that doesn't open till Sunday, a small, brick, 3BR ranch priced at $399,000. Looks cute from the outside but you can never tell.

I feel this much closer to buying a home now. Will keep ya'all posted!

Realty Reality Check

Yes, the Happy House Hunting has begun and I've learned a few things this weekend:

1. Pictures lie.
2. Listing Realtors often lie.
3. Anything under $400,000 in suburban Essex County is either a fixer-upper or very small.

My Realtor (who is also a running pal of mine) warned me about this, telling me that I wasn't going to find something really nice for under $400,000, at least not right now. Things may change in a few months as prices continue to stabilize or drop. I thought she was exaggerating. How bad can they be?, I mused.

Pretty bad. House #1 we looked at was in Little Falls (LF), part of Passaic County where taxes are a mite lower. I am still familiarizing myself with LF so I had to do a Mapquest search to see where this particular house was located. Turns out it was near both Route 46 and the Passaic River. NOT a good omen.

From the outside, the house looked OK: well cared for, nice front porch (we both LOVE porches). The street didn't really knock our socks off (it was down the street from some sort of gated foundry, ugh). But we were there, let's start the tour.

The listing said that the house needed a new kitchen. What it failed to mention was that the house need "A" kitchen. That's right: this house had NO kitchen but a room with a stove and a separate tiny room with a sink. A few cabinets were scattered about but to call this a kitchen would be a stretch. Plus, it was carpeted. Yucky-poo. Why the F would you carpet a kitchen?

The rest of the house was rather ramshackle, in need of mucho work. There were indications that some the ceilings had leaked at one time.

The unfinished basement had to be designed by midgets. I am 5'2" and my head almost grazed the ceiling. There was no way to raise it; it would have to be used strictly for storage. Not for us.

House #2 was in Verona and also needed mucho work, every room. How can someone who owns a home let it go to seed like that? I could never understand it. It's your friggin' investment for crying out loud!

I guess if someone was very handy and had a lot of time and money to kill, they could make this a somewhat decent place to live. Still, I see a price reduction in its future.

House #3, also in Verona, was adorable but very small (2BR). Perfect, however, for a single gal or guy who doesn't want to do the condo route. Nice quiet street. But those taxes? Ouch! Over $5,000 on 2BR house? You gotta be shittin' me!

House #4, in Verona as well. The Realtor gushed on and one about this one, saying that we MUST see it, it's in a better neighborhood, blah-blah-blah, only needs cosmetic work. The minute we saw it from the outside, we know it we weren't going to like it. It was part of a (yuck) development, Verona's answer to Long Island's Levittown. Very boxy, no porch, not even a portico. Boring, boxy layout inside, horrible ceilings (looks like structural damage), disgusting wall-to-wall carpet buckling in places. Very depressing.

So, there you have it. Week one of house hunting. What I've learned from all this is that I will have to go up in price a bit. The bottom line is that I am either going to spend the money on fixing up a handyman's special or on buying a house that's a mite pricier but has less things to fix up. I vote for the second option. We don't mind doing some cosmetic work but when it comes to structural stuff, no way. Plus there's always room for negotiation, especially in this market.

Next weekend: the Caldwells.

What If Labs Went on Strike?

The headline story in The New York Times might read like this:

Dog parks across the New York metro area, normally bustling, were nearly empty today as a group of New York City Labbies began a two-day strike.

Beef, It's What's for Dinner (And Lunch)

Just got back from visiting my brother and his wife in Oregon, had a blast, will post pix here as soon as I upload 'em. Took lots and lots of pix of Mount Hood (we were 7,000 feet above sea level), a really neat waterfall, the beach (nothing like the Jersey shore), and a very cool county fair.

And we ate. It seems we ate non-stop and we ate things that I normally don't eat at home: handfuls of delicious pistachio nuts, real ice cream (not frozen yogurt) almost on a daily basis, real butter and beef, lots of it. This IS the West after all. My brother and Tom kept telling me to relax, you're on vacation. Eventually, I acquiesced. There was no fighting it. I did tell Tom that I was not going anywhere NEAR a scale until after I had been home for a week.

I lied. I got on the scale the night we got home and to my surprise, I WAS ONE POUND LIGHTER THAN WHEN I LEFT! How the heck did THAT happen? Tom pointed out to me that we did run almost every day that we were there. In fact, I ran more miles during the past week that I have all year, being that we are gearng up for a fall marathon. (On Sunday ran 13+ miles as well). So, that's probably the explanation for it.

I tell ya one thing. If I trained in Oregon with all those hills and at the higher altitudes, I'd kick butt in Jersey. I don't have any races till Sept. 2 and I am anxious to see if all this hill training translates into faster times. If it does, it will be solid proof that I need to ramp up the mileage and hill work if I want to see personal records (PRs).

Anyhoo, the higher altitudes made us both very sleepy the first couple of days. Naturally, as soon as got used to them, it was time to come home!

Some cool surprises: Watching kids throw snowballs on Mount Hood (in August!) The best peaches I have ever had in my life. Ditto for fresh rye bread. How big and good-looking my nephews got (21 and 25, respectively). How dog-friendly Portland is. Lying on the beach and looking at fog-covered mountains.

Well, more on this later, when I post the pix.

Some good news while I was gone: my house closed!
The bad news: We are being raped by the government (both state and federal) in the form of capital gains taxes, most likely to the tune of $20,000 or thereabouts (don't know yet how much). And yes, it's rape from where I sit.

Every time you try to get ahead in this state/country, there's Big Brother with his hand out. I'd like to go back to 1911, before income taxes. Of course, my house would not be worth as much then! :-)

BUDK--The Cutting Edge of Catalogs

My BF & I get a lot of catalogs, everything from Victoria's Secret (sometimes 3 a week, no lie) to pet products(even though we are currently dogless, boo-hoo!) to runners' products (no surprises there), to those that feature all kinds of kooky household gadgets. But I have to say that the one that wins the prize for the most bizarre is The BUDK Catalog. The strangest part is why my BF's name appears on it.

The BUDK catalog features everything your local sword collector, knife aficianado, white supremacist, neo-Nazi, psychopath would want. Here are some samples of what you can order from BUDK:

A semi-automatic C02 pistol
A belt buckle that has a nickel coin slot and says, "Insert Coin, unzip, shake well, guaranteed action, internal use only."
A Confederate Flag belt buckle
A full-size German WWII 1942 helmet with your choice of insignia, including the swastika
An SS Officer's Dagger circa 1933 imprinted with the motto, "Meine Ehre Heisst Treue" (My honor is truth).
A leather bullwhip
A Grim Reaper Clock
Lock picks
Stun guns
Various types of battle axes
A Medieval Barbarian War Helmet
An M-16 Air Assault Rife with BB bullets
Precision handcuffs "for all your law enforcement needs"

Well, at least they're all made in the good ol' USA. BUDK is owned by one Clint H. Kadel of Moultrie, GA, right in the heart of the Bible Belt (although I didn't see any Bibles for sale). There's a bunch of legalese on the order form, exempting BUDK from any indemnity for improper use of any of the products. But we know that only bonafide collectors would order this stuff. Right.

Good for Mr. Kadel. Where else can you go for a 16-gauge chain mail shirt to "protect your hide from the hordes?" Or a Lord of the Rings Battle Axe of Gimli that lets you be "ready for battle at a moment's notice?"

Granted, I have to admit there were somethings I liked in the catalog and would consider ordering (but I shudder to think what kind of catalog list I'd end up on). There's the Medieval chess set, the five-pointed star pewter pendants, the Medieval shields, the silver dragon necklace, the Viking Horn helmet (not historically accurate, I know, but cool as hell!), and a tiny hand-carved coffin for all your keepsakes. It WOULD be kinda fun to open my mail with a battle axe.

And, if I was single, I would always keep a copy of The BUDK catalog on my coffee table to help ward off predatory suitors.

RIP, Chief

It’s a sad time over here at Martta’s World. I found out last week that my beloved, God dog, Chief, had to be put down due to heart failure.

No one saw this coming. I spoke to my brother in Oregon about a month ago, told him how much we were looking forward to coming out to visit in August and especially to see Chiefy. My boyfriend, Tom, has never met Chief but based on all of my tales and descriptions, was eager to do so. And then this.

My brother said he noticed that something was up about two weeks ago. Chief seemed particularly lethargic on his walks. He no longer looked forward to jaunts in the park. At first, my brother chalked it up to the heat wave they've been having out west. But it was a lot more serious than that and there was nothing anyone could do.

Of course, animals can't tell you "where it hurts" and by the time we find out they are sick, it is often too late.

He was 8. Even by Lab standards, that’s not very old. Middle-aged maybe (56 in people years) but not a true senior citizen.

Anyway, no matter how old he was, he was a special dog. Beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, playful. Rare to find all these characteristics in a person, let alone a dog.

I remember one time I was helping my sister-in-law in the garden. There was this particularly stubborn root from a small, dead tree that, try as we might, could not pull out of the ground. Chief saw that we were struggling, came over to help dig, and it came out in no time.

The last time I saw Chief, he was just 2, a mere pup. He thought that his soggy rope toy was the most wonderful thing in the world and he just had to share it with anyone who walked through the door. We were all glad when the chewing stage was over, however.

Rest in peace, Chiefster. You will be missed.

Gee, What a Surprise!

Wow, Islamic fundies were behind this? Who woulda thunk it?


Breaking News from ABCNEWS.com:

SEVERAL EXPLOSIONS WERE PLANNED USING MULTIPLE VEHICLES BY ISLAMIC EXTREMISTS IN LONDON BOMB PLOT, U.S. AND BRITISH OFFICIALS TELL ABC NEWS