You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Random Thoughts’ category.

Someone is recovering well from last week’s knee surgery. He’s had hardly any pain and there was enough rebound he went to work on Saturday. In a way it’s a disappointment. I anticipated he would be quite hobbled (poor thing) with Urs Truly playing nurse – and he needed no help. He’s like the rocks at Stonehenge nothing knocks him down. 

Last night we went to “Show Tunes”  at our favorite liquor lyceum which is jolly good fun for Kat was tending bar. Kat is my future ex-wife and well over four feet and she likes to use me as her guinea pig for the cocktails she is working on. One of them indeed tasted like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich which was the point. I prefer my libations to be sour, dark, and butch, like my men. She hit home last week with some sort of melon-infused vodka made with some sort of juice perhaps kiwi which we christened “Mike’s fuzzy balls.” I am honored so. 

I spent the afternoon making Andalusian gazpacho.* I sliced my finger badly while chopping the tomatoes. I really ought to take a cooking course on basics which should include the proper use of kitchen knives. I some how managed to not bleed into the soup; now it has to chill overnight. The prodromal soup looks promising, which is good for I could feed all of Iberia on it. I’ve made heaps.

In a few minutes we sit down to watch The Tonys. I haven’t the foggiest what it up for an award.  It is impossible to sit and watch TV without doing something else, so I will read blogs and do some sewing and ironing.  This drives Someone to distraction who can’t fathom why on earth I can’t just sit there. Poor thing. He should have asked a few logical questions when he met me and now it is too late. At least the shirts will be pressed. 

Finally, tomorrow I meet my new dentist. He has been advertising in the gay rags for ages and I see him every time I go to happy hour. I am much looking forward to meeting him.  I’ve tried to attend the local dental school but this hasn’t not worked out at all. The consequence is I’ve not had a good teeth cleaning in many years. I am sure to write on this anon. 



My future ex-wife


My future non-ex dentist 

*I am not certain what makes it Andalusian as the ingredient are about the same as I have seen in other types of gazpacho.

Svmer is icumen in
Lhude sing cuccu
Groweþ sed
and bloweþ med
and springþ þe wde nu
Sing cuccu

It’s getting hot here in Arizona. Temperatures are regularly over body temperature; the AC is on and will stay so for the next three months. The crepuscular dips in the cement pond are no longer bit too chilly but pleasantly refreshing. Spring’s viridity has burned off taking with it (good riddance!) the pollen.  Summer is here.

The main activity for in a summer in PHX is scheming how to get out of town as often as possible. Next weekend I fly to Wisconsin Land of Cheese to visit Brother #2. He now lives and works in Milwaukee. It will be nice to see him and the lake. I hope to get a proper German dinner no rubbish and perhaps some beer.

In July Someone and I go on our annual holiday to Santa Fe to hear the opera (two of them) at the fabulous Santa Fe Opera House and to imbibe in SW cuisine and local liquors.*

Normally we have a week-long holiday in August to Canada but not this year. Patience above! Our Canadian chums and fellow blogger buddies Laurent and Will have enticed us to join them on their September cruise to Norway. My soul swoons at this ultimate bucket-list achievement. I get to see Norway and the northern lights. Traveling by boat with our buddies: I can think of no better arrangement.  I hope this works out. There are several challenges to make it so; let us hope so.

On the immediate future: not much. Someone had arthroscopic surgery yesterday to remove the torn ACL which has been driving him to distraction. He’s literally laid up for the weekend while I take on the the role of Tina from “Diary of a Mad Housewife”. **    Perhaps in the relatively quiet time that is the weekend I will learn some basic Norwegian phrases and practice my makeup.

Viking horns

“Jeg vil ha en Grandiosa Pizza

*In a recent taste test of seven to eight whiskies my friend Richard declared the hooch made in Santa Fe with its mesquite nuances the best of the bunch. I gave him the bottle; this gives me an excuse to go get a new one.


**The Board of Directors Here at Spo-reflections took great umbrage after reading this. Someone is doing quite well actually in surprisingly little pain. He is not in need of any real assistance. I make one or two equivocations to amuse the Spo-fans. Please don’t write in.

It’s that time of the year: I see headlines about the bigwigs saying something silly or sad at graduation ceremonies. Urs Truly did not give my high school graduation speech; I was not valediction.  I have vague memory I was 13rd in my class. [1] I think we had two valedictorians, male and female. Mary Anne gave the speech to a rousing ovation while Kenneth D. did not speak. [2]

Speeches for graduates are made to inspire starry-eyed graduates to go out and be good – or something. I don’t know if anyone really listens let alone retains what is said at their graduation. [3]  Every year when I see another batch of these things I again wonder what I would have said if I had been top-gay at Grosse Pointe North or what I would say if some great academic institution asks me. [4]

Hey, I write a blog! I can write one here! So here it goes…..

Graduates, friends, and bored relations obliged to be here: I have been paid to say a few words to inspire you towards love, life, and work. I suppose I could be succinct and just say ‘42’ and let’s get home to the parties, but The Board of Directors where I work dictate I write more than that.

Let’s start with the bad news and get it out of the way. Some of you will succeed in life but the vast majority of you will not; you will have to live with disappointment. You will be dismayed and also comforted by the truism how well Life turns out is mostly chance and dumb luck and not the product of your talents or bungles. If you are fortunate you will do well enough and be content with this. Don’t focus on fame, money, and celebrity as few get these bagatelles. Thems who get them admit it’s better than not but they aren’t as fulfilling as we imagine them to be.

The good news is ‘happiness’ in life is achievable and it has little to do with the diploma you now have in your hands. Having a good social support network is the key, as well as good living habits. You don’t have to take turmeric or run marathons – just get enough sleep and eat mostly vegetables. Also, take time off regularly to chill.  There. It isn’t bedazzling but it’s real.

Some of you may be wanting me to tell you the meaning of life. I will do so: there is no meaning. Happily this allows you to make it up as you go along. So long as your life has meaning you will be well off.

Now I will stop. I’m tired and your.. well you are tired. It’s a terrible death to be talked to death so I stop occasionally to allow some of you to escape and this is your first opportunity.



[1] How on earth that was determined is anyone’s guess. I suppose it was based on grade point average ranked in order. I’ve often wondered if there is any correlation of high school GPAs and late in life ‘success’. I suspect there is little if any or perhaps even an inverse correlation.

[2]  Kenneth had a brain the size of a planet. Alas he did not fare so well. When I met him at a H.S. reunion he looked haggard as someone who has had a disappointing life. I read on FB he died a few years ago on his birthday. I suspect but can not confirm he committed suicide.  It’s a sad story no matter which way.

[3] My college graduation had Dan Rather I recall. I don’t remember a word he said. What I remember there was a sizeable amount of protestors who stood up and turned their backs on him while he spoke. I had to look around or stare through a woman’s thighs to see him.

[4] Fat chance of that.

From Ghoulies and Ghosties,
And long-leggity Beasties,
And all Things that go bump in the Night,
Good Lord deliver us.      –  Anonymous.



That does it: no more news. Every time I have a look-see on line this evokes gummy panic and/or depression. Pandora’s Hope mentioned in my last entry has been squashed by the avalanche emanating from The Mountains of Ignorance.


Last night I woke from horrible dreams filled with hateful people trying to do me harm. Doesn’t take Freud to deduced this one: watching the news is causing PTSD-like nightmares.

Another matter interfering with my sleep is I am waking with horrible charley-horse cramps in my feet and my toes. They go back and forth between the left foot and the right. They are not sharp but an intense throbbing; it feels like something in my foot is contracting like a overwound clock. Oh the pain. Flexing my foot is of no lasting help. I have to leap out of bed and walk around stomping my foot as if  trying to flatten a very skittish cockroach. These middle-of-the-night stomps wake Harper and Someone who both wonder what the hell is going on. Oh the embarrassment.

We are in the transitional time of year here in Phoenix when going to bed is marred by the heat but by the time we wake it is cold outside. Windows are open and fans are a-blowing which helps a little beim schlafengehen but I wakes in the morning with the sensation of freezing. I am counting the days when it becomes hot enough to turn on the AC for more homogenous temperatures.

My bladder, normally the size of a large grapefruit, seems have shrunk to the size of a golf-ball. I am beginning to wake a few times in the night when I used to sleep through without need. Oh the nuisance.

In medieval times* people explained nightmares and cramps to malevolent fairies, ghosts, and succubi. I wouldn’t mind mid-night interruptions if they were caused by a visting handsome incubi but no such luck. Rather than call in an exorcist I need to limit my fluids after 7PM, do some stretches before retiring, and no BBC/CNN. It would also help if Harper didn’t wake me in the night in an urgent need to go outside to stand in the backyard just to stare at nothing.


*Overall a more friendly period.


Greetings from Flagstaff, Land of Pines.

I am still waiting for The Muses or somebody like them to send me inspiration to get me out of this dearth of entries. I figured if I was by myself of a weekend this would give opportunity for something.  No such luck. 

I am finding this weekend by myself to be quite nice.  Sitting lonesome in restaurants hasn’t been too bad as I always have a book and my Kindle with me.  It has been a fascinating experiment to sit among restaurant goers who are in couples.  People seem to have the supposition I am too engrossed in my reading to hear them; they make no effort to carry on conversations in discreet tones.  As a consequence I’ve overheard several  humdingers some of them far more fascinating than what I am trying to read. 

Male/female couples have a tendency for the man to talk to the woman in what sounds like bossy-boots mansplaining.  I wonder why the women don’t speak up but they don’t. They merely nod their heads while saying ‘hmmm’ which makes me wonder if they are only pretending to listen. What conversations I have overheard haven’t been interesting, particularly the politics. At lunch over a bowel of ramen soup while reading Pepys diary (now there’s a combo!) I heard a gentleman explaining Captain Bone Spurs cleverness about the Chinese while said gentleman’s presumed wife looked like she was ready to drop dead into her dragon roll.  He ended with his prediction (conviction) two weeks after Herr Furor leaves office Melania will file for divorce mark his words.  If she does she’s a sensible woman but this doesn’t strike me as supportive of cleverness of Orange Blossom to have a third (or is it a fourth?) marriage fail. 

Last night at an Italian place while eating eggplant parmesan (disappointing again!)  I overheard another couple discussing whether or not to divorce or merely separate.  A few times the mister sent out signals he would be OK to have a mistress. Either his indirect speech acts weren’t registering with her or she was completely ignoring them.*  I wanted to lean over and say “God’s death are you two playing tennis? Just say you want an open marriage and is that OK to try?” 

Two men eating together have boring conversations as all they ever talk about is business or sports. In contrast two women to themselves talk about their woes.  At one meal (breakfast) I had one set of each on both sides of me so it was hard to focus on my eggs and my reading.  To their credit the men seemed to gotten some things done while the women ended breakfast without resolution what to do with their irksome mates. 

Today I may be bold as to not have a book with me at lunch to see if my neighbors keep quiet or talk less.  



*Which is why we use indirect speech acts: it gives folks the ability not to have direct conversations that would be possibly damage.


I’ve not been a good blogger lately – both as a write and as a reader. I’ve made repeated promises to myself to be more regular at keeping up with my blogger buddies only to realize once again it’s Sunday night and I’ve failed to do so. Then I try to cram in all my reads, getting caught up as it were. This often results in eye fatigue and quick skims and not proper reads at all. It’s been a long and exhausting week and weekend. It’s 6PM: I few minutes ago I sat down to what feels like an insurmountable amount of entries to read, only to encounter a post at Bailey’s Buddy.  Jay Simser hasn’t posted in ages. The entry was an announcement from his nephew that Jay had died. This news was quite sad and upsetting; now I don’t want to read or do anything. I just want to go to sleep. I won’t of course as it means just waking up and starting another week. 

My days have left me with little time or energy for creativity.  My paper journal has hardly any entries in this year as there is little importance to record. I’ve been blogging for many years; I recognize a lull when it happens. I need not fear. I have to wait and something will come to me. 

Getting back to the guilt about reading, I think it’s best I don’t try to read everything in one or two sittings. I may try reading 5-6 posts per day:  Travel Penguin Tuesdays and Mitchell is Moving Mondays – that sort of thing. Don’t tell my bosses but perhaps I can read at work while waiting for the no-shows or somebody like them. 

I really like reading blogs and knowing what people are up to, otherwise something like Jay’s passing happens while I am away doing tedious daily-dos.  

With that apology I won’t read this evening I reckon but do some stretches. My back has grown progressively stiff and my ROM (range of motion) is diminishing.

Let’s see how the week proceeds. 


I will miss you Jay Simser. 

insanity  Patience above! It’s been days since my last blog-entry! The Board of Directors Here at Spo-reflections returned this morning having been away for a week visiting relations in Svartalfheim. They are livid at the lack of entries and are withholding my souvenir* until I put out as it were. I’ve postponed all Saturday morning there’s-work-to-be-done chores lest I have my wrists smashed. 

It’s been a tough week. Sometimes work rattles me and last week did so. I encountered more than usual sorrow.  A man’s teenaged child died in a car wreck; a woman came home from a trip to find her spouse had packed up her belongings and put them outside and changed the locks. A patient with long time battle with depression was just getting better only to announce she now has cancer. As if often the case I wonder what on earth am I to do.


I grew a tomato!  Finally!  On the negative it was only as big as a cherry tomato and it was consumed quick as quarter-note. All that work for one bite. Alas, it didn’t have much taste, probably from the terrior of the land which is nasty desert stuff. 


The Cup Sprites have increased their activity as demonstrated by the more-than-average half-consumed beverages popping up around Das Spo-Haus.  Someone has politely asked me to cut it out as if I had any say on the subject. Duckduckgo isn’t much help when it comes to research on how to exorcise attention-deficit-disorder like fairy-folk. I found a recipe of parsley, sage, rosemary, and methylphenidate; it sounds worth a try. 

This evening we attend the ballet which will be outdoors at the Botanical Desert Gardens. It gives me the heebie-jeebies seeing bare legs doing Croisé among the cacti. Someone and I are still suffering from allergies so we plan on taking Zyrtec or something  prior to going. No doubt we will be asleep in no time so I needn’t worry about sneezing or dancers falling onto the opuntia. 

OK, I promise to write a proper entry tomorrow. 



*Probably a T-shirt (wrong size as usual) or a herring. 


My printer at work makes strange and peculiar noises whenever I use it or turn it off.  These sound suitable for Halloween: one is a creepy organ cord and another is a sort of banshee wail.  I am not certain why the printer is doing this. Perhaps it is possessed or bewitched. A more likely explanation is I programmed it to do so last October and I have forgotten how I did that. Worse, I don’t remember how to turn it off.

My ongoing attempt to create a password manager has so far been unsuccessful but along the way I’ve learned a few tricks and hacks for the unholy trinity that is my PC, my Mac laptop, and my cellphone. I’ve learned the Ctrl button with a number moves me between open windows without having to move the mouse. I’m certain there are Spo-fans rolling their eyes now along the line of ‘oh that, everyone knows about that”.  Knowing little tricks and short cuts may be maudlin but they give me a sense of accomplishment in an area I find intimidating viz. electronic gadgets.

Some of these lessons are simple such as sweeping left across an entered number in the cellphone calculator to remove the last added digit. Some of them touch upon the dastardly plans of thems in charge.  I learned there is an on/off button in my cellphone that stops the battery being consumed to send Apple data on their advertising. The temerity of it! Apple using my juice to get its data without my permission! Turning that one off gives me a small smug satisfaction I’ve improved things while thumbing my nose at the evil empire.

Punching a newly learned command onto the keyboard and seeing the screen light up confirming ‘that really works” makes me wonder how many other commands and tricks are swimming below in the depths of the Dell. They must be legion. Hopefully there are not too many sinister types like the Apple example.  I hate the notion my phone and computers are in cahoots with the tech-barons. On the other hand I know this is happening every time I go on Facebook.  The lack of privacy is a large price to pay for learning what my relatives are doing.

Learning little things like Cntrl + B and triple-click cellphone options are along the line of the cartoon “Give Alice some pencils and she will stay happy for hours”. They make me happy. They also give me courage to attempt to exorcise the printer of its Haunted Mansion noises.  Who knows where this may go.  Perhaps I will become one of those computer nerds who works ‘mouse-less”. More likely Apple and Microsoft will realize I’ve caught on to their shenanigans and they will merely move the cheese. Stirges.

burning computer (color)






Mack Weldon recently sent me some underwear, which is kind of him as I wanted some. It’s also dutiful that he did so as I paid for the garments including shipping and handling. There is no lack of nether-drawers in my dresser but the purchase was justified that some of the usuals are ready for the rag drawer. I am most grateful for Mr. Weldon for lending me his underwear which are of the boxer type – my preference.

Someone prefers a different sort of shorts –  a good thing as two men sharing the same dirty duds drawer it gets a bit blurred who owns and wears what. Our sock style also differs so the sorting of socks is an easy chore.  In contrast we wear the same oh-so-practical white T-shirts which we merely divide 50-50.

I have long suspected Someone doesn’t like the way I fold clothes. My Swiss-German genetics can’t abide piles of clean clothes sitting unfolded so I generally fold everything my way and later he refolds his. As an aside I recently saw on Youtube how to fold a shortsleeved shirt in a few seconds. I don’t quite have the hang of it but it’s jolly good fun. The jury is out if Someone approves.

There is a silent agreement we iron our own shirts. It’s a pleasure for me to iron my Spo-shirts. In contrast  ironing my dress shirts is terribly tedious. I admit I am no great with an iron but what I do is ‘good enough ironing’ as it were. On the other hand Someone needs his dress shirts precisely ironed and he does this very well. Think of The Buddha on Adderall.  He can to let the ‘to iron’ pile grow as high as Fafner’s hoard while I see the ironing like an old man jumping for the weed killer at the first sign of a dandelion in his otherwise precise lawn.

We may have our differences in folding and ironing but we are in agreement there is always a lot of laundry. It never ceases to amaze us how two men generate so much in a week. The washer and dryer seem to be in a continual use.

Thus is laundry a metaphor for life: no matter how much you do you it is never enough to keep up.


Yesterday at work during the ‘no-shows’ I composed a witty composition only to forget to post it. Even the easiest of work days leave me a bit scattered and forgetful. The human brain tells the body to release glucocorticoids whenever it feels a threat. Alas, alas, the lower brain parts don’t discriminate: they think the incoming next patient is just as dangerous as a hyena. Glucocorticoids viz. stress hormones are good for preparing for fight or flight but they muck up ones memory. It’s wonder by day’s end I can barely remember where I put my car keys let alone posting to WordPress. Post-its help, especially if they are fluorescent yellow and tacked to the computer screen.  Putting the borderline personality cases at the beginning of the work day also helps.

Besides neurochemical overload another factor scrambling my eggs is my allergies. ‘Tis the season hohoho for the mesquite trees being in full bloom. They too are fluorescent yellow. The spring trees admittedly are lovely but the prodigious amounts of pollen pile up and (worse) get up my nose. My eyes itch and I can’t breathe from congestion. Antihistamines help  but make me doubt my memory including my sanity. I shall be in an allergenic-Zyrtec stupor until the temperatures go above 40C and burn it all away. This happens sooner each year. It’s a fluorescent yellow-silver lining to climate change.

Perhaps my brain is merely on strike, fed up with the continuous fusillade of educational podcasts I give it. It refuses to learn/remember anything more, apparently full up like a Memorial Day resort.

I should not complain. The triple goddess of Attention, Memory, and Executive Function can go on holiday for a month. After all being dumb and dizzy has its charms especially in my community. The hummingbirds that house in my cortex can flit around unsupervised for now.


Blog Stats

  • 1,636,570 Visitors and droppers-by


June 2019
« May    

Spo-Reflections 2006-2018