A Milestone at 100

No, not my age.  This is my 100^thblog, unless I’ve miscounted, in which case, it could be 99 or 101.  But I’m pretty sure we’ve reached a milestone.  So, how to celebrate?  How to fully appreciate the moment?  Should I open a bottle of champagne?  Collect them all into a book for those that have been persistent, one might say stubbornly dogged readers that have been with me for three years and are the backbone of my success?  I should mention in all modesty that I also reached a milestone in that 159 people (or robots randomly searching) viewed my blog one day recently – a personal best. On the flip side, I’m off this morning to buy a new computer because this one, my old buddy, has been updated once too many times and the processors are swirling around with the speed of erosion in the Grand Canyon, begging to be retired.

That computer has served us well for twelve years. I know, right? That’s like 500 hundred in computer years.  If you’ve read my writings on how well I work with technology, the setup of a new one should be a breeze.  Of course, the nice lady I spoke to yesterday at the tech store also recommended that I replace the router and modem too.  She could sell me a combo pack that’s really easy to install.  She won’t be the one screaming obscenities at the monitor with clenched fists and elevated blood pressure. Once she said I’d get an online link to a site that would walk me through the process, I knew our conversation was at an end.  I’m just afraid that my old car will be next. These things tend to work in threes, fours, and fives for us.

In a bit of business with a direct bearing on what will come after, I have to let you all know sadly that my campaign for the White House has hit a “bit of bother”.  My exploratory committee is back from Kansas and report that it’s not looking good. Actually, they spent most of their time and our campaign war chest on a bar tab in Missouri.  Apparently it’s not considered good form to photoshop my face into other candidates’ ads to save money, and our PAC packed and left.  I know that my readers have supported me throughout the journey from announcement to immediate downward spiral to, well, complete anonymity. Most of my platforms were taken over by other candidates with better name recognition, and even a few with less. That left me pretty much alone with “Free donuts for everyone.”  I planned to cancel the Middle East conflict to pay for it, but was advised from both military and financial types that that wasn’t totally viable.  As one of the late night talk show hosts mentioned recently about another candidate, “When someone announces that they’re dropping out of the race, and everyone says, ‘Who?’, that’s not a good sign.”  We pretty much had the traction of a ’56 Chevy on an ice rink.  That leads me to . . . .

I will  content myself with being an elder statesperson whose collected wisdom in written form, not unlike Twain or Hemingway, will be reflected upon, discussed, and probably laughed at.  I believe that I’ve turned the spotlight on critical issues of the day, like robo-calls, people that don’t take their Christmas decorations down in a timely fashion, the perils of going to the dentist, (and in an upcoming issue, the eye doctor is moving quickly into second place – what is with that machine that blasts air into your eyeballs?), and how to properly take a nap.  I’ve provided a most beneficial color commentary on House Hunters (and yes, I still can’t get over that “travel blogger” who couldn’t find an apartment in Munich, or the “dog blogger”. What does she write about – an in-depth feature on fur?), although I’ve had minimal feedback from HGTV. I’ve walked you through the essential elements of coffees and how to make expert choices.   We talked in detail about waiting patiently to win the lottery (and by the way, I had tickets last night where the power numbers were 2, 4, and 6.  The winning number was 5.  Who picks these?)  I’ve informed you all on the process of writing a Pulitzer winning obituary. (And yes, you should still be leaving out your “grandcat” unless it was your nearest relative, in which case that answers a number of other questions we all had.)

Some of the warmest, most gratifying moments of writing are the “things that make me smile”.  I had one of those again the other day in the grocery store.  A mother had two young children in tow. Her son was getting a bit fidgety in the cart seat.  He insisted on helping his mother unload the groceries onto the conveyor belt, and most everything he touched fell to the floor.  Mother, infinitely patient, spoke softly into his ear and he calmed down. Not sure exactly what she said to him – perhaps it was something like “stop now or I’ll leave you in the vegetable freezer”, but whatever it was, it worked.  He settled down and smiled up at me.  Of course, I was helping mother pick up everything he’d dropped as both a public service and insurance against getting home so late that my wife would be calling the police to file a missing person report.  That last part wouldn’t happen – she’d just assume I was again wandering around Home Depot.

There are any number of things that make me smile.  Our grandniece calling her great aunt to tell her about books she’d read.  Our daughter took a great selfie with her godson on his first trip to Fenway Park.  (He was on a first-name basis with the ball girl and she gave him a baseball.  That, along with a helmet of ice cream, well – life doesn’t get any better than that.) Every so often, I’ll hear from a former student.  It might be that they’d like to use me as a reference on a job application, which is truly great and something I’m pleased to provide, or just to catch up and tell me what they’re doing.  In one of the greatest of these moments,  I met a former student in a restaurant a few years back.  He told his waitress, “that looks like a teacher of mine from years ago, but it can’t be – he’d be much older.”  How’s that for a self-esteem builder? I have a couple of friends that I meet for coffee, or friends that Herself and I meet for lunch.  My in-laws are putting in a new bathroom, and our neighbors across the street are having their kitchen redone.  They’re all so excited they can’t stand themselves. There is so much excitement (along with nail-biting anxiety, if you watch the Property Brothers) to any kind of building or renovation project.  Our neighbor has been out with her leaf blower at 7 each morning for . . . . well, I have no idea but it seems to be some ritual prelude to the arrival of the contractor. Obviously, the neighborhood is delighted. My father would work himself into a feverish pitch when a bulldozer was coming to dig out his latest pond project.  It’s the anticipation coupled with, “How will it turn out?  Will it be what we wanted?  Will it cost more than we thought, and will we find something else that needs to be fixed?” I worked through two school renovations and two more building projects.  To varying degrees, they all were something to be proud of when they were finished and the bugs were worked out.  We had a house built, which was rewarding too, in a fairly anxiety-ridden way.  It was constructed largely over the summer, which was good for me because I could go out to the site every day to pester the contractor and his people.  I wondered at the time why he asked me repeatedly when school was starting.

So, I’ll continue to write and inform with Invaluable insights into our human quirks and life’s ironies related to them because it gives me great satisfaction. It keeps me away from Herself as she’s trying to watch “Price Is Right”, and well, my therapist thinks it’s harmless.  I’m fairly certain that the NSA has long since given up monitoring my site, so I’ll keep going for another 100, or perhaps, I’m thinking . . . .maybe.