Back to the Jeans

Have you ever said, 'I'll just run in and .....' and you are going into Wal-Mart?  Well I made that mistake the other day.  I just want to run in and get a pair of jeans.  I thought 'I will get something other than just plain jeans'. You can imagine that it went all downhill from there and you would be right.  Do I want relaxed fit on waist or relaxed fit below waist?  Or do I want loose fit on waist or below waist?  Forget about boot cut, straight leg or full leg.  How about regular fit with full seat and thigh area?  Or would loose fit with full seat and thigh?  And what is this about 'fit below waist'?  I am not trying to draw attention to my gut thank you.  I don't want my jeans to look like I had to get them for support.

Every rack or table of jeans had a new fit or color or style.  It was then I realized that this was not going to be a quick trip.  And I now had a headache.  So I postponed the purchasing to another day and went to Starbucks for a apple fritter and hot chai.  Now I feel better :-)

Fountain

Savannah has numerous squares.  One of the squares is Ellis Square and it has a fountain.  Not a fountain as you would think of, but well here is a picture.

And as you can imagine with city government this fountain has posted rules and regulations.  Please read rule one carefully.

So I guess if you use the buddy system it's ok to bath here?  Or if you get a group and have a group bath.  Just the thoughts that I had immediately when I read this.

I'd like something...

with a 34 waist and hair please.

Are you a rednek?

I was in Wal-Mart yesterday walking around the electronic section.  I heard someone say 'Are u a rednek?'  Well it is obvious I had to turn about to see who was talking and to whom they were speaking too.  The cashier in the electronics department was speaking to a small boy who was sitting inside a cart.  Not the part of the cart where kids sit, but in the basket part.  He was nodding his head in an affirmative matter and without hesitation and feeling the need to verbalize his response he said a hearty 'Yes Mam'.

Well a response of that I clearly had to see the proud parents of this 'rednek'. These parents or birth pod and sperm donor appeared to be in their twenties.  They had another child sitting in the children's sit on the cart.  The proud dad was wearing a sleeveless black t-shirt with some screen print that I could not identify.  Both his arms were covered with tattoos.  Buzzed hair cut. I will admit that I didn't get a good look at his wife, because the last thing you want to do in Wal-Mart is get caught staring at a Rednek's wife.  I believe this deep in the south he would defend her honor to my demise.  "Clean up on Aisle 3".

A further glance into the cart as they wheeled it past me I noticed it had a couple boxes of ceral and softdrinks. Breakfast is served.

Causey Why?

The older I get the more I tend to ask this question.  Then again I also tend to care less about the answer because there is less I can do about some things.  If they say life is what you make of it, when do we know what we made is done?  I mean we know when something we cook is done and projects that require assembly.  When do we know what we have made out of life?  Is it with our last breath?  Is it when we visit a doctor and he tells us the result of out diet.  When it is exactly that we realize what we have made of our lives?  Is there a standard that we must obtain?  Is there a rule about how hard we are suppose to 'apply' ourselves?  If we 'apply' ourselves harder does that equal a happier life?

Why do we judge our lives against accomplishments we have achieved?  Or missed accomplishments?  Why do we judge others by their accomplishments or lack thereof?  Does making one  more dollar make us happier?  Does another plaque on the wall bring peace?  If it does, that is fine.  But why then do we hold others up to the standard we have set for ourselves?

In the 70's it was about doing what makes you happy.  Why was this the theme, because the previous generations were trying to meet expectations and standards set by others.  Generally being parents, siblings or society. You have to meet walk your own road and not the use the GPS of family, friends or society to get to your destination.

We are each the end results of decisions, good, bad and indifferent. Or lack of decisions.  We choose or let life or others choose for us.  Either way those around us will never know the whole situation.  Sometimes we don't actually know the whole situation.  We process our decisions based on our heads, our hearts and what we have learned from previous similar decisions.

Bottom line is we are where we are in life because of the answers to questions we asked 'Causey Why'?  Perhaps not verbally but internally.  We all admit that we struggle with this question in our lives, don't think to know the answer to this question in others.

If you don't like where you are, then change the answer to 'Causey Why'.

What's the deal?

What's the deal with guys wearing 'skinny' jeans.  I mean this sucks on several levels.  First of all if I can't wear them, and I can't, it means I'm not skinny.  Now this may not mean much to you but I have been skinny all my life.  I've heard all the skinny jokes in High School.  I was 5'10" and weighed about 120.  I mean I am dealing with age and now you throw my weight in my face.  Thanks!

So does this mean we give all the clothes we wear or just the ones unwearable by the average human?  Think about it.  We don't have clothes named 'fat jeans'.  I know there is 'phat jeans' but that is not the same thing.  how about 'beer belly shirts'.

I guess I will just put my putter pants on and shut up :-).

Joke

I don't post jokes but this one is so funny to me:

Seniors at Dunkin Donuts

 

A group of seniors were sitting around talking about all their ailments.

 

"My arms have gotten so weak I can hardly lift this cup of coffee," said one.

 

"Yes, I know," said another. "My cataracts are so bad; I can't even see my coffee."

 

"I couldn't even mark an "X" at election time, my hands are so crippled," volunteered a third.

 

"What? Speak up! What? I can't hear you!"

 

"I can't turn my head because of the arthritis in my neck," said a fourth, to which several nodded weakly in agreement.

 

"My blood pressure pills make me so dizzy!" exclaimed another.

 

"I forget where I am, and where I'm going," said another.

 

"I guess that's the price we pay for getting old," winced an old man as he slowly shook his head.

 

The others nodded in agreement.

 

"Well, count your Blessings," said a woman cheerfully - - "thank God we can all still drive."