Neverending Renovation

The very day we took possession of this house, a year ago June, our hot tub was delivered. The very next day, we started painting...John the upstairs, myself the basement. Throughout the past year we have (quite evenly spaced out, I might add) done the following:

* Completely remodeled the upstairs washroom, slate tile flooring, door-less glass shower..even a new toilet.
* New wood floor in the master bedroom, along with new closet.
* New wood floor in "hot-tub" room (I recently restored a travel-kitchen my grandfather made 40 years ago, and turned it into a side-table)
* New wood floor in theater room (more on that later)
* New vinyl floor in laundry/weight room
* New carpet in room opposite theater room, adjoining the laundry room
* Built a deck for the hot tub, and one for the sliding-glass door (for the BBQ)
* Removed the pole holding up the ceiling in the theater room and replaced it with a beam, giving us more room (the beam was in the middle of the room!)
* Had theater chairs delivered (John's idea) that with a push of a button, prop your feet up. Also holds beer.
...and most recently, using what remains of our slate tile to finish off the downstairs washroom.

Can anyone guess what we're avoiding? Anyone? Anyone?? Bueller?

That's right, boys and girls. It's the Kitchen. Estimates range from 20-30k. That's a lot of computers. Unfortunately, with the kitchen resembling something you'd see in a circa-1970's episode of "Mama's Family" the contrast with the rest of the house is too much to deal with. I almost expect Rod Serling to be standing in the corner of the kitchen when I walk in for breakfast:
"Portrait of a cheap procrastinator: Every morning David Bragg walks into this very kitchen to feed his golden retriever and to pour himself a bowl of cereal. And every morning he sighs with shame as he gazes at he out-dated flooring and aged pine cabinets. His life has earned itself a motto "Repeat". Regret, ignore, continue. And the next morning.. and the next morning."

Here's hoping that in 2011 I finally enter the Twilight Zone and finally stop caring so much about money.

QWOP

Last night John showed me a website http://www.foddy.net/Athletics.html where you attempt with the aid of 4 keys QWOP to make an animated runner run 100 meters. Sounds simple enough in theory, but I imagine Helen Keller after 4 martinis would have just as much luck. After trying every conceivable sequence of the letters QWOP (which control thighs and calves), my "runner" always seems to be getting hit with machine-gun fire; that is, flailing around and falling backward on his ass or his head.

I think it would have made more sense if they had called the game "KRAMER".....or maybe "MEL GIBSON".

Starting Over

Three days ago my Great-Uncle Hartley died at the age of 99. Last year he self-published a journal "Hartley's Journal" of his thoughts and opinions of current and past events, along with some stories from his past that are humorous, if not relevant (which they were). The last page reads "Thank you for reading my journal...now go write your own."

My last two posts are from over a year ago, so I'll start over from here. What follows is the eulogy I wrote for his funeral next week, which my father will read for me in my absence. Uncle Hartley read my eulogy for my grandmother 7 years ago.

Let me start off by saying that I hope everyone here can forgive my dad for not being able to do the Donald duck voice. Uncle Hartley’s impressions resonate through my mind as if he was standing next to me right now and it would have been a cool way to start this speech: “Hi everybody, why are you all so sad? Turn that frown upside down! 99 years is a long time for a duck.”

I hope everyone here is in a mood to celebrate Uncle Hartley’s long and amazing life. While no one can be entirely prepared for this day, we should all be smiling with the memories of the funny stories he told and the boyish, sheepish grin with which he told them.

I envy those of you who got to spend the better part of their lives with or close to Hartley. Living so far away makes times like this difficult for me because in the end, all we have is family. We make this journey through life sort of like how Hartley and Clare travelled. We go from place to place for a random length of time, attempting to experience new things and places with our own independent points of view, hoping to find things to inspire us…while always “checking in” with the folks back home. They matter the most, after all. “Are the kids ok? Just making sure. Need a hand with anything? …are you sure you don’t need us to come back home early?” (Maybe all of this was from a payphone in Albuquerque). The point being: we are never entirely alone, even if you live in the middle-of-nowhere Ontario like me.

I know that all of you who were lucky enough to live closer to Hartley than myself treasured every experience with him. Not just for the funny stories, but for the inspiration of his never-ending will to learn and experience new things, as well as the genuine interest he took in all of your lives. I’m grateful that despite the distance between myself and Hartley, that the internet brought us closer together in the last few years. There’s nothing like feeling needed and for someone like him to need me in any capacity is an honor I’ll hold on to for the rest of my life.

The same goes for family in general. You need to all need each other for life to be worth living. Look at your loved ones right now and reflect on that for just a minute.

Goodbye Hartley

I’ll miss you forever… and yes, I’m still fascinated by how that toilet worked in the RV you had back in 1980. Thanks for helping me keep my mind young. I’ll keep smiling like you, as if I were 10 years old.

Love-

Dave

you think you know someone...

Too often because people are categorized we assume how they must think on a particular subject and therefore change course or just give up and forget the whole thing to avoid confrontation.

I'm guilty of that; no use lying about it. I have friends and acquaintances that fall all over the political spectrum, from left to right. For that, I'm proud of myself. I give everyone the chance I want to be given. Unfortunately, my entire life has been spent walking on broken glass and taking the easy detours.

Not to get into a mode of sounding like a bad after school special; I know I'm cynical too. This is my downfall. A few days ago a friend of over 20 years dropped a bomb on me that took about 500 pounds off my shoulders. I had assumed that because he came from a conservative, church-going house, that I had better keep certain things about me to myself. I was as wrong as the Orioles trading away Eddie Murray away in 1987. I'm still upset about that, too.

That day definitely gave me more courage; maybe the ability to have a frank discussion with the family over Christmas; we'll see. The hardest part is not judging and not assuming who'd have a problem.

So here's to the one who got the ball rolling-- you know I love you like a brother and I hope you're in my life for the duration. To Terry, Rick, Chad, and Marc; you are part of my foundation. I hope when the day the bomb drops the walls don't crumble.
That would be a total bummer!

Do you pick your bloggers?

Don't stick your finger there; you don't know where it's been.

I've owned a computer store for almost six years now here in Ontario and this is honestly the first time I've ever "blogged". Do I have anything interesting to say? Random thoughts only minutely more interesting than someone's "I went jogging today" on twitter? Do I have thousands of baby pictures on display?
None of the above, I'm afraid. There will be many pictures of my golden retriever, Hokie, however.
You'll also have to settle for random thoughts conceived either in a state of total boredom and/or complacency or mild inebriation (for those of you south of the mason-dixon line, please google the latter word; you'll find it hits close to home on friday nights).
I'm not sure if this will double my shame, seeing as how I'm also on facebook where people tend to wear their mundane thoughts on their sleeves for the world to see-- "made cookies today!" or "took the kids to the soccer game and then cheated on my wife with that broad from the gym"...no wait, that would actually be interesting. I honestly don't care which 5 movies are your favorite or what kind of tree you'd be based on a 6 question quiz. I don't want to play mafia wars or farmville. I really don't; but, here I am blogging. Does that rhyme with "toboggoning"?

Until today I've never read anyone's blog, either. I received a response to a happy birthday email I had sent a week or so ago; buddy told me to check out his blog for all the latest news on his family (up here in Canada we refer to nameless people as "buddy" to expedite a story being told. Could be the prime minister "buddy raised taxes today" or it could be Wayne Gretzky "did you see that goal buddy scored last night? Damn!"). I found out that he and his wife had a baby boy LAST JUNE. Mind you, I am happy for him. I've known him for 22 years now. I obviously don't see him as often as I used to, seeing as how I live 600 miles away in another country (U.S.A. junior, I know you're thinking it). But dude, c'mon, call next time.

So here it is 10:30pm on a tuesday night. Running late on watching the "Dexter" episode I've tivo'd but I'll have to fit that it at any cost. Hokie will drop a softball at my feet begging me to take her out and play, despite the darkness. I'll let her out for a pee, but that's where I draw the line.

I'll be just as careful picking my bloggers.