When in Ireland…

When in Ireland, do as the Irish do!


I’m operating on three hours of sleep after a long flight, but managed to down a pint or two of Guinness at a highly recommended pub before our room was ready. Maybe I need to relocate to Ireland. 

Here’s an Irish blessing that seemed appropriate for this momentous occasion:

“When we drink, we get drunk. 

When we get drunk, we fall asleep. 

When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. 

When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. 

So, let’s all get drunk, and go to heaven!”

Travel Games You Cannot Play on an Airplane 

One cannot play the alphabet game, the signs are too far below,

And the license plate game is likewise moot, no cars zip to and fro.

One could play the I Spy game, at least a round or two

Until it’s apparent that the objects in view are limited to just a few.

Name That Tune is out, ’cause other passengers aren’t amused,

When you sing an off key Yellow Submarine and they all feel abused.

So I’ll twiddle my thumbs and wiggle my ears the better to pass the time

Or maybe I’ll write silly poems, some may even rhyme.

Cochlear Implant Update

Wonderful piece by Jan Wilberg at redswrap.wordpress.com

Red's Wrap

I wear this thing on my head. Looking at it now in the photo, it strikes me as enormous, a contraption. I wonder why people don’t just stop in their tracks and ask me what it is. But they never do. It’s like seeing someone with an artificial leg and wanting to inquire about how it works but being compelled to ignore it. What artificial leg? I didn’t see an artificial leg, did you?

This is the receiver (behind my ear) that captures sound that travels through the wire to the round thing (which is actually a magnet) and transmits the signals through my skull to a twin round thing inside my head which then sends the signals along several wires to 22 electrodes hanging out in my cochlea. The electrodes recreate the function of the nerves in my cochlea, sending the sound signals to my brain to be made…

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A Long Way, Baby

I’ve come a long way, baby,
Still got a long way to go.
Every time I think I’m there,
I find myself laid low

Try to rise above the hate,
Ignore the arrows and slings.
They go low, I try going high,
But, damn, their insults sting.

These days of alternate truths,
Lies, if truth be told,
Just wear me out in spirit,
Got me feeling old

But I have come a long way
And I’ll keep traveling on
The road often will be rough
And I’ve got skills to hone.

Healthcare: “We Aren’t Stupid” 

They aren’t stupid, just heartless. Read more at alotfromlydia.wordpress.com.

A lot from Lydia

Like a child commenting on a bedtime story, Donald Trump said the Republican Healthcare bill is “mean.” Someone must have finally read it to him. However “mean” it may be, Trump will not attempt change it; he only wants his comment to be on record so he can play both sides of the fence. He wants this bill to pass, because his goal as POTUS 45 is to undo everything POTUS 44 did… and to profit bigly along the way.

This bill is, as everyone knows by now, being crafted behind closed doors by 13 Republican Senators, all men. No one else knows what’s in it. It will be career ending legislation for many of them, as it will be for members of the house who voted yes to pass the first version of the bill, and as it will be for those Republican Senators who vote to yes to…

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Souvenirs from Universal Studios, Orlando

Studly Doright and I were in Orlando, Florida, on Monday and Tuesday this week, prior to flying to Shannon, Ireland, on Wednesday. He had meetings to attend, while I had some time on my hands. Monday I treated myself with a trip to one of the outlet malls, but on Tuesday I decided it was high time I visited The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios. 


I walked all the way back to where the map indicated Harry Potter’s world would be. I saw the bus, and I  took a selfie in front of #12 Privet Drive, but I was confused. Where was Diagon Alley? I walked all the way around the area, but was stymied. Was this all there was? 

I’m such a Muggle, but on a hunch I walked through a nondescript opening in an unmarked brick wall, and voila! 


Diagon Alley! Honest, one can’t see this opening from the area where the triple decker knight bus and Privet Drive are, even though they’re just a few feet away. How wonderfully magical to be forced to stumble onto it! 





Butter beer is pretty damned tasty; although, there’s no actual beer in it. Drat. 


I ogled the newest Firebolt model:


By far the longest line in Diagon Alley was formed outside the wand store. I spoke with a little girl who was still giddy that the wand she purchased had chosen her. I was tempted to join the queue, but I’ll wait until I can bring my grandkids. And a wand in my hands might not be a good idea. I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good. 

So, what were my souvenirs? 

A pair of scraped palms, and a skinned knee.


I fell, having failed to realize that the curb was about five inches higher than my bifocal lenses led me to believe. Fortunately a couple of young men rushed to my aid, and helped me to my feet. The part that’s the most injured is my pride. It could’ve been much worse, so I’ll take my lumps as a renewed call for caution. 

Slimy Lies

Like multi jointed worms, oozing from the earth after a thunderous summer storm, slimy lies wend their way from

Dark places of hiding, feeding on hate and prejudice until the traction they gain propels them through the conscienceless

Oral orifices of greedy politicians. Alternative facts, misrepresentations, broken promises, all squirm from their tongues.

Packing Hell

 

I’m trying to pack for an eight day trip to Ireland with a two day stay in Orlando prior to the flight.  So, ten outfits should do the trick, right? Then would someone tell me why I’ve packed a carry on bag to full capacity along with a suitcase the size of Delaware, and I’m still wondering if I’m taking enough along.


Studly Doright’s side of the large suitcase contains exactly one pair of shorts or pants for each day and a complementary shirt, along with an equal number of underpants and pairs of socks. He’s not even taking a carry on bag; although, he will have his golf bag in tow. 


I’m stressing out, but I found this message tucked in with the packing humor in Pinterest. 


Thank goodness none of the above takes up space in a suitcase. I’m all out.

Peace, people.

Happy Father’s Day

This was originally posted on Sunday, June 17, 2016.

Gerald Delane Hall 

Husband

  

Father

  
Grandfather    

Brother
  

Son 

Great grandfather
  
Friend 
A special man, my dad, not perfect, heck, he didn’t even try to be. But he was fun:

–Teller of inappropriate jokes, and a gambling fool.

–Measurer of miles in terms of six packs consumed.

–Lacking political correctness, yet treated everyone as an equal.

–Maker of friends wherever he went.

–Soft of heart.

–My biggest fan.

I miss this man.