Tag: Studly Doright

Road Trip!

Tomorrow I’ll set out on a road trip in my “old” car, a 2015 Mazda CX-5 with an outrageous 85,000 plus miles on the odometer. The car was in a minor accident back in November, but one can barely tell even upon close inspection.

My first destination is Buda, Texas, outside of Austin. There, I’ll rendezvous with my niece, CB, who bought two tickets to see Michelle Obama and invited me to join her. I can hardly wait for Thursday night!

On Friday I’ll drive north to Dallas where I’ll deliver the car to my son. He’s buying the Mazda for our oldest granddaughter, but it’s a surprise, so shhhh! I’ll spend a couple of days in Dallas with my son and his family before heading back to Doright Manor near Tallahassee, Florida.

The original plan was for me to fly home, but Studly Doright decided I needed a car to run around Tallahassee in. I’ve already put nearly 6,000 miles on my 2019 Lincoln. Apparently that’s excessive, so I’ll be picking up a used car at a dealership in Dallas and driving it home. This will be my every day driver, and chances are it will someday end up being another grandkid’s car. Of course, at the rate I rack up miles, it might have a million on it by then, but who’s counting?

Peace, people.

Wednesday, Part 2: The Good

My Wednesday started off with a (bad) bang when I locked the keys, along with my phone, in my car at a Goodwill store in Tallahassee.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2019/02/22/wednesday-part-one-the-bad/

Now, some people might’ve gone home after such a downer of a start, but not me! I gamely soldiered on, running errands around town, eating a late lunch at Newk’s, and then shopping at Lucky’s–hands down the best grocery store in the universe.

I’ve decided one of the reasons I like Lucky’s so much is that everyone there is so friendly. There’s a great conversation to be had on every aisle and in the checkout line, to boot. No one seems to be in a hurry when shopping at Lucky’s, so buying groceries there is a refreshing change of pace.

I completed my shopping and returned to Doright Manor where I had a couple of hours to kill. Studly Doright was out of town, so I didn’t have to plan a meal or anything. With my free time I read the newest Gareth Powell book, Fleet of Knives, and cleaned out some closets. If you’re into Sci-fi, I heartily recommend Gareth’s Embers of War series. My only complaint is that I read them too fast, and the third book in the series hasn’t been written yet. Damn!

Around four p.m. I washed my face and drove across town to join Meetup friends for trivia night at Southwood golf club. We did well, finishing third, I think. The group that made it to the event was a nice mix of people from past Meetups and brand new folks. Meetup has been a godsend for me, and I enjoyed every minute.

After trivia, a couple of the ladies and I decided, on a whim, to head to The Moon, a Tallahassee nightspot, to see Los Lobos in concert. It was such fun. I danced all by myself and sang my heart out. Of course, the band saved their hit, La Bamba for the encore, so any thoughts I’d had about sneaking away early were dashed. It was a great way to end a day that had started on a bit of a low note.

So if there’s a moral to my story it might be, “What starts with a lock could end with some rock.” Or, “Shake it off. Shake, shake it off.” I’m open to suggestions.

Peace, people!

https://youtu.be/nLAWPrCUQQ0

Wednesday, Part One: The Bad

You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and then…you rock out. (With apologies to the 80’s sitcom, “Facts of Life” theme song.)

Wednesday was a day of highs and lows, starting with me locking my keys and my phone in my car while dropping off a donation of clothing at a local Goodwill thrift store. For starters, I honestly didn’t think it was possible to lock my keys in my new Lincoln Nautilus. My previous car, a Mazda CX-5 had a fail safe to prevent such unfortunate events from occurring. Live and learn, I guess.

So there I was taking up a spot in the busy donation lane at Goodwill, and I couldn’t call for assistance. One of the Goodwill employees loaned me her phone, and I tried calling the dealership where we’d bought the car. Lincolns supposedly come with all sorts of perks, so I thought I’d see if they could help me out. They hung up on me. Not once, but twice.

We haven’t been all that thrilled with Tallahassee Ford-Lincoln since purchasing the car, and this incident certainly didn’t endear them to me. Matthew McConaughey and I need to have a talk.

https://youtu.be/GAuDTd2-Z1k

The sweet woman who’d loaned me her phone suggested I call my insurance company because some providers have specific locksmiths they want customers to use. As we were looking up the number, one of the other employees said, “Hey! It looks like you can punch in a code to unlock your car.”

Oh, yeah. I’d kind of forgotten that feature. Maybe this was a reprieve. But only if I could recall the code we’d set up back in December. On the third try I got it right and sheepishly thanked the folks who’d assisted me. After unloading my donation I moved my car and got the heck out of Dodge. Come to think of it, maybe I should’ve bought a Dodge….we did live in Dodge City for a year.

Tomorrow, if I don’t get sidetracked, I’ll bring you “Wednesday, Part 2: The Good.”

Isn’t it Romantic

(Note: For some reason my post formatted incorrectly. I tried fixing it, to no avail. My apologies and my thanks to those of you who persevere long enough to read the whole thing.)

In movie talk a “meet cute” describes an amusing or charming first encounter between two characters that leads to the development of a romantic relationship between them.

My own Studly Doright and I had something of a meet cute when we were teenagers. I was the new girl in town, he worked for my dad at a Piggly Wiggly grocery store. I asked him where the ketchup was, he pointed at the row right in front of us. I felt sheepish, he was intrigued (heaven only knows why) and pursued me all summer. Our paths crossed again when we had the same P.E. period at Dumas high school, and we’ve been nearly inseparable ever since. That was 42.5 years ago.

Now, what would one call an encounter that is charming, but goes no further than that first encounter? Technically it’s still cute, and it’s still a meeting, but if it doesn’t lead to anything more can it be deemed a “meet cute”? Or is it merely a flirtation?

Once, over a decade ago, Studly and I lived in Melbourne, Florida. I taught math and science to fifth graders at a small neighborhood school, and became good friends with the three other fifth grade teachers. One Friday evening the four of us went to the Mardi Gras celebration at Universal Studios in Orlando to see Hootie and the Blowfish in concert.

Prior to the concert there was a parade with all the fun of a New Orleans Mardi Gras celebration. There were marching jazz musicians and krewes manning floats. Beads were thrown willy nilly, but female recipients didn’t have to bare their knockers to earn the shiny baubles. In fact, seeing as Universal Studios is a family friendly venue, baring a breast probably would’ve gotten one evicted from the park. I certainly wasn’t going to be a test case.

My friends and I eagerly caught beads that came our way, and I made sure any children in our vicinity were the final recipients of any I snagged. So engrossed was I in this activity that I accidentally bumped into an attractive, well dressed man who was also watching the parade. I apologized and went on obliviously about my bead catching.

“Hey,” the man said. “Why aren’t you keeping any beads?”

I barely looked at him, saying, “Don’t you know the fun is in the catching?”

No more than a minute passed before I felt a tap on my shoulder. The man held up an ornately decorated set of beads, smiled, and handed them to me.

“You’re right,” he said, winking. “The fun is in the catching.”

I’m sure I blushed bright red, but I grinned and thanked him before quickly locating my friends and rejoining them. If I’d been single maybe that could’ve been a meet cute. As it was it was just an innocent flirtation.

Oh, in case you’re wondering, I gave those beads away, too, but not until later in the evening when Hootie and the Blowfish were singing, “Only Wanna be With You.” Studly Doright is my only meet cute.

Peace, people!

Let’s wrap this up with “Only Wanna Be With You,” by Hootie and the Blowfish.

https://youtu.be/pV7XND2YCdg

Bacon, Baby

Valentine’s Day was pretty low key here at Doright Manor. Poor Studly Doright has been swamped at work, so after he got home on Thursday evening I greeted him at the door with his gift and no expectations of an evening out.

His gift appeared to be a small Igloo cooler that I’d decorated with heart stickers. His reaction was underwhelming, until, that is, I told him that was just the gift wrapping. Inside was his actual gift:

A tube filled with Reese’s Cups and

two pounds of small batch, thick cut bacon!

For dinner we enjoyed pancakes and Studly’s Valentine’s Day bacon. Yum!

For his part Studly showered me with flowers, candy, and some oh-so-soft pajamas from PajamaGram. They’re lovely. I might’ve even worn them last night. Wink, wink. There’s a slight possibility that bacon is an aphrodisiac.

Peace, people.

A Rose is a Rose, Right?

Yesterday I arrived home from an appointment in Tallahassee to the sight of three boxes on the front porch. I’d been expecting two of them. One was a Valentine’s gift I’d ordered for Studly Doright, one was a legal document, and the third, unexpected box was from ProFlowers.

Of course I checked to make sure it was for me, (it was), and I opened it. I could smell the roses before I saw them, so I set them aside to prepare the enclosed vase. I took the clear glass receptacle from the box, filled it with room temperature water, and added the enclosed plant food before unwrapping the flowers. Within the wrapping paper there were only six blooming roses, but dozens of stems.

“Okay, I’m sure the rest are buds,” I thought. But they weren’t buds. Instead they were portions of wilted, dessicated petals that had never managed to reach their full potential, or had reached it, but in a stunted state. I went ahead and placed them in the vase even though they looked sad and sparse. Then I got a little ticked.

I was pretty certain my husband hadn’t placed an order saying, “Hey, I want the saddest bouquet of roses you all have in stock. Stems? Yeah, a bunch of stems are great. Even better if there’s a hint of petal remaining, you know, just to let her know they were ALMOST flowers.”

Should I call the company and make a formal complaint? Should I just accept the poorly fulfilled order? I hesitated for a minute or two, then decided to talk to someone at ProFlowers.

After going through the description of the roses with one customer service representative, who clearly wasn’t in a position to make things right, I was transferred to another woman who listened thoughtfully, looked up the order, and discovered that Studly’s initial order hadn’t even been correctly filled. According to this representative’s records, Studly had placed an order for chocolates and a premium vase to accompany the roses. So, I was right to contact the company.

They promised to expedite the correct order to arrive today, Valentine’s Day, and I’ll be watching and waiting to see if the product is what they promised. Surely it’ll be more robust than this one. And yes, I’m aware that there are some lovely roses in the bunch, but overall they weren’t up to snuff.

Peace, people!

The Partial Lowdown on “The Upside”

We went to see the film “The Upside,” last night, in spite of having read some negative reviews. The review that concerned me the most was the one on Rotten Tomatoes that rated it only 40% fresh. Studly Doright wanted to see the film, though, and he convinced me to tag along.

Y’all know I’m no film critic. I don’t overthink plot lines or casting choices. If a film causes me to laugh out loud or cry real tears, then I feel it’s made an impact. “The Upside” did both, more than once. Sometimes simultaneously.

Bryan Cranston, as the grumpy millionaire paraplegic, and Kevin Hart, as the street smart ex-con turned auxiliary caregiver, evolve beyond their stereotypes to form a friendship based on mutual respect. That evolution was key to the movie being more than just a slapstick comedy riddled with catheter and penis jokes. Although, to be honest, I laughed my ass off at the catheter scenes. Call me juvenile, and I’ll hit you upside the head with my rolling pin.

The movie, touted as having been based on a true story, is in actuality a remake of a French film, “The Intouchables,” based on an actual tale of a wealthy Frenchman and his personal attendant. So,”The Upside” is something of a double filtered tale. I don’t believe critics adored it either.

Regardless, “The Upside” was endearing and funny. Just hearing Studly Doright’s laughter was worth the price of admission. If you’ve seen the film, let me know what you thought.

Peace, people!

Searching for the Right Valentine’s Day Card

How Do I Love Him? In 25 Words or Less

On February 2nd

The search began

For a card proclaiming

Undying love for my man

I looked at flirty cards

And sexy ones

Religious and

Romantic ones

Those that didn’t

Catch my eye

Were too verbose

With too many verses for my guy.

The number one thing

He likes in a card

Is conciseness in verbiage,

Just a few words from a bard.

So I strive to appease

The less words the better

This year I found one

With only one letter:

👁 💖 U

I think he’ll like that message, don’t you? I’m not sure I can find one with a briefer one.

Three Billboards, My “Sort of” Review

Studly Doright was on the road all this week. He was supposed to have made it home last night, but an issue arose that prevented his return. I’m still not feeling terrific, so while I was bummed that he would be gone another night, I was glad I wouldn’t have the worry of keeping him awake with my sneezing and snorting.

Having an extra and unexpected night to myself I decided to finally watch the film, Three Billboards Outside Ebbings, Missouri. Studly watched it one night many months ago when I was traveling, so last night seemed a perfect time for me to play catch up.

Studly wasn’t sure how he’d felt about the film, so I approached it cautiously. I knew Frances McDormand was awarded the Oscar for Best Actress for her performance, and that the film had garnered lots of praise and additional awards, so I figured it would be worth my time. I was right.

First of all, Ms. McDormand was incredible as a mom wracked with guilt and a driving need for justice as her daughter’s brutal rape and murder went unsolved. Woody Harrelson, as the police chief in the small town of Ebbings, gave a performance that haunted me all night. Why he didn’t win the Oscar is beyond my understanding. Sam Rockwell, who did win Best Supporting Actor for his role as a deputy with a whole host of issues, was nothing short of brilliant.

I loved this film while understanding why Studly did not. I identified with Mcdormand’s character from the get go. I’ve been that mom who just barely had her sh*t together, who lashed out at her children when she was really just lashing out at her own failings as a mom and wife. I felt her guilt for sending her daughter out into the world with angry words, and then never seeing her daughter alive again.

This movie has no easy resolution. That is why Studly struggled with liking it. He acknowledged that the acting was incredible, but he was dissatisfied with the way the story unfurled. The denouement wasn’t what he’d hoped. I believe that’s also why I liked it.

I could imagine the characters evolving and finding closure. The film left me with hope. While maybe we can never fix this one horrible event, our lives don’t have to be stuck in purgatory for eternity. Maybe we can move forward with understanding even as flawed as we are.

I am a lousy reviewer, but I couldn’t get Three Billboards out of my mind. If you’ve seen it, I’d love to discuss the film with others.

Peace, people.

Dr. On Demand

Under the category of “What Will They Think of Next?” comes the relatively new idea of online doctoring. Studly’s company’s insurance provider began pushing the service last year, but I was reluctant to take advantage of it. The whole thing just seemed like an oddity. I couldn’t quite fathom how a doctor could examine a patient via a Skype-type arrangement and prescribe treatments, and even medications, for an ailment, all without physically being in the same room.

Last evening though, as I struggled to breathe, as snot dripped relentlessly from my nose, and tears flowed freely from my eyes, Studly Doright insisted I access the site. I told him I already knew what they’d say: “Drink plenty of liquids, get lots of rest, take ibuprofen for your headache, use a humidifier and a Neti pot, blah, blah, blah.”

“I’m already doing that stuff. Plus,” I grimaced, “They’ll charge me for that information.”

Studly insisted, though, so I downloaded the app and made the call. After filling out the online paperwork, I found myself in a virtual waiting room to see the first available physician. My wait time was a little longer than ten minutes, but I didn’t have to wonder what new germs I was being exposed to as I reclined on my own sofa in the privacy of Doright Manor. I do need to acquire better magazines, though. Ours are boring.

When the doctor appeared on my phone I was pleased to see that they’d assigned me a woman. I probably could’ve requested a female, but didn’t think to do so when I initiated the visit. Dr. W exuded confidence and compassion, and got right down to business.

After going over my health history and asking about any medications I was taking, Dr. W asked me about my symptoms, then had me check to see if the glands in my throat were swollen. She had me evaluate the pain level in my sinuses.

And if you’re wondering, yes, she asked me to stick out my tongue and say “Ahhhhh!” while I pointed the phone’s camera at my throat. Apparently I wasn’t adept at this maneuver because after I fumbled about for several minutes in an attempt to expose the inner workings of my throat, she asked if there was someone else in the house who could aim the camera for me. Studly rose to the occasion, and played cameraman.

He saved the day again when the doctor had me take a blood pressure reading. Studly has a small sphygmomanometer with a cuff that wraps around one’s wrist. I was trying to put it in place while talking to the doctor, so he stepped in and made sure I did it correctly. Always the hero, my Studly.

After a few more questions the doctor gave me her recommendations: Drink plenty of liquids, get lots of rest, take ibuprofen for your headache, use a humidifier and a Neti pot, blah, blah, blah. Hmmm. Where had I heard that before?

I gave Studly an “I told you look,” but he wasn’t at all chastened.

“We needed to see if it worked,” he said. “Maybe next time you’ll have something more interesting, like a broken leg….”

That man. Remind me to keep an eye on him.

Peace, and good health, people.