I Inhaled and Now I Have a Little Pane In My Stomach.

     I've become a total Groupon fanatic. I see something on Groupon, research it, buy the Groupon and do it. This post is not about Groupon though; it is about something I found there. I found a Groupon for Hot Sand, a glass studio in Asbury Park, NJ. I bought a blowing session for each of the girls and a sand cast session for myself. The weather being so hot this past weekend, we limited our outside time to the mornings and evenings. Sunday afternoon, we decided to go to the Hot Sands studio and use the Groupons. The kids each blew a glass bubble and I decided, Groupon be damned, on blowing a drinking glass.

     There was one young girl ahead of us; we and the rest of the crowd were amazed as she turned a piece of molten glass into a glowing bubble right before our eyes. Looking at all the amazing pieces they had for sale hanging from the ceiling, lining shelves and on the walls, we realized just how incredible the artistic nature of glass really was. There were spectacular examples of blown, cast, fused and slumped glass everywhere.

It was our turn and we elected Lizzy to go first. The artisan explained the entire process and answered some questions Lizzy had. To say Lizzy looked a little uncomfortable as the pipe with the molten glass on the end of it approached the work bench, would probably be an understatement. Working with 2100 degrees of amorphous silicon lava initially seemed a bit much for her. After she grabbed it, with what looked like oversize tweezers, and began twisting it, she became quite at ease with the glass. Several color adds, rolls, blows, cools and reheats later Lizzy's globe was complete. The master glassman then brought it to the cooling oven and we watched as he tapped the rod and the globe gently rolled off.

After watching Lizzy, Emily was ready to go. A crowd had gathered and was watching. Emily was a bit more confident and as I watched the process again, I truly began to appreciate the amount of work that goes into the art. Like so many other things I wondered how the first glass blowers figured out the techniques and best practices that were needed for the form. Emily looked a little bored at the work bench but a few minutes later, her globe was also in the cooling oven.

Next it was my turn. I love doing new things! Blowing glass is a much more gentle process then I imagined. More work and time is spent in the shaping, stretching, heating and cutting. I never knew that when heated, glass could be cut with metal shears, so it was amazing to watch a true artisan do so. Within a short while, my glass was in the cooling oven and the kids and I were on our way home.

 

After the relative silence, of the girls, during and after the process, I was shocked when they began telling everyone we talked to how cool the whole thing was. I'll be picking up our own little pieces of art this Friday. I can't wait to see how they came out.

     I have to give a major shout out to the staff at Hot Sand, they were friendly, knowledgeable and made the whole process spectacular. They do the lion's share of the work in helping you make amazing creations. Their approach in educating and promoting the art of glass through hands on work made this one of the best experiences the kids and I have had in a while and has set the bar pretty high for this summer. We will definitely be going back. If you are ever in NJ, go to the boardwalk in Asbury Park and stop by Hot Sand for a visual treat and a unique souvenir.  Oh, unlike me, remember to bring your good camera.  
Their website can be found here. http://www.hotsandap.com/

I Hate Facebook and Twitter

I don't think it is the actual services, so much as it is their impact on our dimwitted society. I was out the other night and a woman actually said, “Face Palm”. Really? I'm less than two feet from you. In fact, I'm looking right at you. Are you so lazy that you can't do the gesture or has your feeble mind lost the ability to express itself in person? At this rate, everyone will walk around expressionless and just talk. Next time someone verbalizes an expression, I think I'll have to blurt out, “Middle finger!”, and see if they get it.

Another thing that has to go is the idea that an acronym or abbreviation of something is an actual word, W.T.F.? I understand in this day and age there are some typing challenged people (maybe 5), but do you talk so slow that you need to say it out loud in that form? As if saying everything in short form isn't bad enough, pictures have become verbalized. Since when has heart become a synonym for love? People actually type out or say, 'I heart you' . Every time I hear this, I want to stab them in the love.

Text streams. I understand the need for people to communicate on a constant basis, when they have something to say, but must they discuss their every waking thought and action, no matter how inappropriate. For those of you who don't use these services, I'll give you a quick rundown of what your missing and some translations of the acronyms, in italics.

I just pooped and it was brown and green, IDIOT (I Did It In Our Toilet)

#toilet

You must be STUPID (Stunned That U Pooped In Der)

#casual user

Oops, I dropped my phone in while typing, I need to RITALIN (Reach In Toilet And Laugh Insanely Now)

#toilet

I can't believe you reached in there and are typing CRAP (Clever Rhyming Acronym Poetry)

#Lazy Bum

That's funny, 'in' rhymes with 'RITALIN'. I bet you FART (Fear Another Raging Turd)

# I'm confused

I have to BEAT (Be Entertaining And Teach) my child.

#toilet

OK, I'm BEATing my child now. He has a booger in his nose. :?)

#toilet

Last time my child had one, I scraped it out with a Hanger. 8@(

#clueless

I heart using hangers

#toilet

This dribble goes on non-stop minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day. When something finally does happen exciting in the persons life, nobody really gives a crap.

Where is all this leading to? My teenage daughter just opened a Facebook account. Now I'll have to open one, to keep an eye on her. How unkewl is that?

Sad Memorial Day - 2011

     I put up a new flag for Memorial Day and began reading on the internet about different Memorial Day 'festivities'. I also began thinking of the whole concept of 'Happy Memorial Day', it's kind of an oxymoron. There is nothing happy about Memorial Day.
     Memorial Day, we honor the greatest of our dead, our fallen military heroes.  On Veteran’s day, we are to honor our Veterans. Everyday of the year we should thank God for the brave men and women of our military who keep us safe and make us proud.

      With that thought in mind the kids and I did not go to the parade this year. I failed to find out about the military service up the road until it was too late, so we watched several episodes of, 'America: The Story of Us.'. It's a well done series, that though left out a lot of crucial facts, shows how through blood of soldiers and ingenuity of it's people, America forged itself.

      It is sad to me that we consider this a 'happy' day. Until this year, I never gave it much thought. It had always been a day of hot dogs, hamburgers and the unofficial start of the summer season. Now I realize this should be a day of honor and respect for those who served and gave their lives as well as their families who made the ultimate sacrifice.

      It doesn't matter how old you are. You are never to old to learn or gain understanding. The kids and I talked a lot about the meaning of Memorial Day. I think some of the impact was lost. In a way I'm glad, the last glimmer of innocence has not been smitten by the realities of adulthood. They may be embarrassed when we drive by the local fort and I honk my horn 'in support of our troops', but I hope, when they get older, they will remember and understand that you can hate the war, not the soldier. I also hope they realize the sacrifice and sanctity of dying in the service of your country for the hopes and dreams of your fellow man.

We Honor Those Who Have Fallen For Us and God Bless America!

Happy Blogiversary - Populus Es Bardus

Today is the one year mark for Populous Es Bardus. In some ways it seems like just yesterday I started it, in others it seems like forever ago. I wish I had written more this past year and will be writing on a more frequent schedule going forward. I have also updated my photography equipment (LOVE my lenses!), so look forward to more, or at least better pictures.

The little blog that started as a means to hone my photography; writing skills and relieve me from the boredom of writing technical manuals has blossomed quite nicely. 

 

Some fun facts about the blog...

• It has now been read in 47 states.  Screw you Wyoming, Montana and North Dakota.
• It has been browsed in at least 10 countries

• There have been over 6000 page views.
• The most viewed blog entry is Some Daughter at about 2000 page views.
• The lowest viewed blog entry (ranked) is Sand Destiny under 20 page views.
• Funniest Search Keywords, 'girl belly down on bed' (The runner ups may be a future post).
• 1.2% of my visitors still use dial-up for their internet.
• 10 different OS's and 9 different browsers have been identified using the site.
• Over 20% of my traffic comes from Google. 
• This will be the 180th post.

Thank You Readers!

A lot of the stats aren't very impressive, but they do shock me. I never thought anyone would care about what I posted or even find the blog, as I've told few people about it. It is true that I would have done the blog even if I had thought no one was actually out there but it is nice to see that people found it and hopefully enjoyed it.

Now for another year!

Tick! TIck! TICK! BOOM! (aka. To all You Older Byrds!)

I was on a dating site the other night and was surprised at how many women, older than I, stated that they wanted to have their first child.

Ladies,
If you are my age (or older) are single and are planning on having a baby... that's a clock that makes Big Ben go, “DAMN, that ticking is loud.”.  If you are married and planning for a child in your 40's, God bless but, if you don't have a relationship yet and somehow think you are going to meet a guy, skip all formalities and have a baby, it's like me saying I want to be a baseball player. Even if I was the best player in the universe, no one would draft me, sight unseen, knowing at my age, I only had a good year or two left in me. Do you not understand that there was a time for that and chances are that time is called the past.

Age is a crueler mistress to women than men.  Women have a biological time frame in which they can have a child without medical issue. Men we can have children at whatever age we want. Sadly we don't realize how amazing children are until after we have them. That being said, most men don't want to coach soccer from behind a walker or get a senior discount at Babies 'R' Us.

I'm not saying you 40 something women aren't sexy, or that there is anything wrong with not having a child. I'm also not saying 40+ women can't plan a relationship, a marriage, a baby and get it all in under the wire; it is kind of like saying a dog can't jump from the Empire State Building. We all know it can happen, it just shouldn't and the impact on the dog would probably be detrimental.

So ladies, you've made it past forty without child and relationship. Congratulations, it's not the end of the world. Maybe reproduction is not for you. There are always nieces and nephews and friends with kids that are looking for a babysitter.

Have you ever watched one of those movies where there is a guy disarming a bomb and the digital timer is blurring a countdown at an incredible rate... 3.01, 2.05, 1.09, 0.23. and the guy has to choose the blue or red wire before time runs out and right at the end of the movie he snips one. Ladies you are the credits that roll at the end of those movies.

Tuesday Tips For Living Alone – Noise While 'not baking brownies.'

Yes, that is my laundry on the right and office chair on the left..

Most people living alone, like I, live in a multi-family dwelling. Whether it be a condo, apartment, co-op or townhouse, the builders of these homes never planned on humans actually living on these premises. If they had the walls would have been better insulated against noise.

Where am I going with this? I have an exercise machine I bought right before the divorce. It is a knock off of the one Chuck Norris and Christie Brinkley peddle on late night TV. I really like it and it seems to fit my lifestyle; it even folds up and can be pushed under a bed or leaned against a wall. Since moving into the co-op, It's sole purpose has been a place to hang the clothes I will be wearing the next day. This weekend I decided that moving it from one location to another should not be the only exercise I get from it. I put it in the center of my bedroom, fully extended it and decided that I would do reps of different exercises every time I walked by it.

Let's step back for a moment here. Remember how I said noise travels freely through the walls of my co-op to the neighbors? Well, it is a two way situation. My neighbor has a bed that has the propensity to, for lack of better definition, squeak. So once in a while when she has company over, I know they are, 'not baking brownies', if you know what I mean.

So yesterday, every time I walked by the exercise machine I decided to do ten to fifteen reps of one of the various exercises. Around lunch time I decided on doing a little bit more of a workout. After about twenty five minutes of huffing, puffing, grunting and sweating, I went out to my yard feeling pumped and ready to do some yard work.
My next door neighbor was out and the conversation went something like this.
Her : “You have somebody over?”
Me (still puffing) : “No, just taking a lunchtime break.”
Her : “Oh, thought I heard something.”
Me : “Just me upstairs in my room.”
Her : “Oh.... OK, cause it sounded like you had somebody over there.”
Me : “Nope, all alone. I have to pull some weeds from the beds now.”

After pulling some weeds from my two small beds out back, I went in and decided to do a few more reps. I get lulled into the gentle piston-like noise of the exercise machine, “Whirrr...Whump, WHIrrr... WHUmp, WHIRRR... WHUMMP.”, I let out an, “UHHHNNN”, as I butterfly one too many times. It hits me. The utter and sheer feeling of embarrassment that is burning more than the muscles in my shoulders. My neighbor thinks, I was alone, uh, 'not baking brownies.'.

I take a shower and look out the window. My neighbor's car is gone, she has already gone back to work. Ah, just as well. I'm pretty shameless and very rarely get embarrassed, so now, I begin to laugh. I wonder what the neighbor is going to think when she is home and hears the exercise machine go off ten to fifteen times a day.

I digress.

The tips for today. If you are in a multi-family dwelling with noise enhancing walls:
1. Learn to ignore things. There are plenty of professional ways to damper noise, but most are rather costly and aren't as effective as needed.
2. Communicate with your neighbors. The other of my two neighbors goes to bed early and has to be up for work by 4:00a.m.. Since she told me, I've learned to curb my noise level in certain rooms of my co-op later at night.
3. If you are, 'not baking brownies.', God bless, put the TV on a little louder or play some music. If you hear someone, 'not baking brownies.'. Put your TV on or play some music and give them some privacy. A little noise control goes a long way.

No Babies Were Harmed in the Course of This Post.

So my latest Neurosis is Baby oil. I noticed my skin was getting dry so I started to put baby oil on it after I showered. At first I thought, skin lotion, but baby oil sounds so much cooler. Thoughts of magical baby extract or age defying oil squeezed from babies comes to mind. Think about it Corn Oil from corn, Sunflower oil from sunflowers, Baby oil from?

I also figure that the ladies out there will actually dig this concept. What's the latest thing lonely middle aged women are into?  Vampires! What sounds closer to being a vampire then rubbing crushed baby extract on yourself to keep your skin young forever.

You can all laugh at my neuroses(I do), but any of you that have seen a baby being born, know where I'm coming from.  I'm not saying babies aren't cute, just that they aren't initially human. They come out covered in slime and are alive but not breathing. They have scales like reptiles and when their mouths first open, their faces contort and they let out a pterodactyl scream. The nurse takes them out of the room, rubs baby oil on them and BAM! An insanely cute soft skinned human child comes back.

Since starting this regimen, my hair has become noticeably softer. As a dude, the only downside is that my skin has gotten a little too soft. Guess I'll have to go eat some pork rinds and yes, they really are the skin of a pig.

Side note: Since I wrote this last week, I've gotten a zit on my forehead. I haven't changed my diet, so there is only one logical conclusion. The baby oil is working! My face has regressed to my teenage years. Now If I could only find some magical solution like ground kitten or crushed puppy to get the hair on my head to start growing back, I'd be all set.