Where's Waldo?

Look at the picture.

This is the result of today's lawn aeration. The photo was taken in the backyard where Smooch and Bosco roam. Tell me, how am I going to be able to spot and scoop Tibetan Spaniel poop among these thousands of plugs in the yard?

Candle Opera - Act II

I have already documented the thrill I get from shredding stuff. I fear I may also have a mild case of pyromania.

Still no RPCs today despite a desperation trip to Wal-Mart. It may have been a matter of throwing good money after bad, but I bit on a Glade oil candle kit. Fresh Linen is the scent. The package boasted that it would fill the room with aroma after only a few minutes.

Right from the get go I realized what was missing from the Wisp flameless candle. That being the flame. Real fire. Accept no substitute. Can you imagine, for example, a tribal celebration with Glade Wisp Flameless Candles accenting the ring where the fertility dance is being held? Me neither. Lighting matches and setting something on fire is fun. Watching the flame - is fun.

A few minutes have passed and my den smells like a laundromat. The gods are appeased.

Candles in the Brain

There's just a hint of Autumn in the air. Football season is underway. It's time to kiss summer goodbye and start thinking about the winter routine.

Candles. They are a requirement for my den in the colder months. I'm picky about my candles. Yankee Candles and their cheap imitators are unacceptable. I do not like the wasted wax and the charred glass when the candle is burned only half away. Yankees are expensive. My main complaint is that them Yankees don't give out enough scent. The candidates have been weeded out over the years and Renuzit pillar candles are preferred, if not demanded.

I don't know what the deal is, but I can't find a single RPC (Renuzit Pillar Candle) in any of the lovely scents. Perhaps it's just the off season. I hope so. I intend to call the company as soon as I finish this entry. I hope too that the product isn't discontinued. I'll be particularly upset if some fecal-brained individual did something perverse with an RPC that resulted in injury, subsequently causing the product to be pulled from shelves. A fraternity prank gone bad, and in turn, negatively impacting my candle experience, would be devastating.

Plan B:

I picked up a flameless candle. This thing is funny. Funny, ha ha, and funny weird. You put a battery in the apparatus and it sends a periodic charge into a vial of oil. The thing emits a fragrant puff of smoke every few seconds. You can hear the "poof". Even the unimaginative would be able to conjure up a silly simile to describe this nonsense. Wait! There's more. If you press down on the top, it has a tiny LED or something that activates, giving the illusion that there is indeed a flame deep inside the frosted glass. It flickers. It smokes. It is not the answer.

Parts Unknown

This is the week of fantasy football drafts. I'll surface again around September 10. I'm fine and am being treated well.

The most boring thing in the world is having to listen to tales about someone else's fantasy football team. I wouldn''t dare subject anyone to this torment. Better that I ignore everyone and everything in the real world this week.

Today's Sermon

I had to go my neighbor's house today and ask if I could borrow some beer. He had only two. Despite my reluctance to wipe out his supply of holiday suds, he insisted that I take them. A little later he corralled 4 more bottles for me from his in-law's fridge.

Press [1] if you want an entry about how neighbors rise to the occasion in a time of need.

Press [2] if you are wondering what kind of person goes door-to-door borrowing beer.

It appears that everyone pressed [2]

Bear with me. I live in Indiana. This is a state that prohibits package liquor sales on Sundays. Our bratwurst and corn feast was a last minute dealio. No beer. I have never been to any social event where sausage was the main course and of beer was not one of the beverage choices. What would my guests think? I'm in a tough spot because of still another bullshit Indiana law.

I guess it is bad to drink beer on Sunday because it's supposedly the Lord's Day. This was a mere inconvenience when I lived in South Bend. Michigan was only 10 minutes away. If someone was down to their last case or two, they could count on State Line Liquors being open early Sunday morning.

Living smack dab in the middle of this backward state, I had to go the WWJD route. I know what Jesus did in this situation. Problem was that Jesus wasn't coming to the cookout and the chance of me turning tap water into Budweiser was nil. Although I don't share the view that beer is evil, I thought it might be wise to save my prayers for a time of greater need. So I called on a great friend and neighbor who I knew would understand the situation. He did.

What could be more Christian than lending a neighbor your last beer? I am truly inspired by this act of generosity and kindness.