Maintenance, Maintenance, Maintenance

Maintenance, maintenance, maintenance. That's what life becomes more of the older you or your possessions get. Like I'm telling you something you don't already know.

Living out in the country presents its own set of problems. For the last week or two we have been trying not to notice the "rotten egg smell" that is present in our well water, but as much as we pretend that ignoring it will make it go away, we finally have to start making telephone calls.

Paul Olson, of Ken Olson Well, a very pleasant young man, came out yesterday and shocked the well with copious amounts of bleach poured directly into the well water. This morning Kim and I looked like the crew on a submarine that had just been damaged by a depth charge, shutting down pipes, draining faucets, twisting valves back on again.

Then to top it off, while I am mowing the now Pampas that used to be a "lawn" near the house, as I get near the cap of the septic system, I find standing water. Not a good sign as it means we have a back up down the line in our drain field. I can just hear the septic system guy's cash register -- Ka-Ching!

Ah, well, you can laugh or you can cry. Me? I scream very foul curse words for a couple of minutes which seems to calm me and turn me toward acceptance of the fact that what is -- well, IS. I am, however, not certain that the next door neighbors appreciate the fusillade of filth.

It's maintenance, maintnenace, maintenance.

Speaking of the older me, I gave Kim a good scare yesterday.

We have started to diet again (maintenance) as I can no longer conjoin my 34's at the waist and my 36's are even uncomfortable when I sit, so my daily routine has become coffee and an English muffin for breakfast, fight through the psychology of it's noon so you MUST eat, and then eat an early supper (that's country-speak for dinner) about 4:30PM.

This puts us among the senior citizen "early birds" but hey -- swallow your pride.

So we are running a few errands in Kim's hybrid Prius and just as we are nearing Putnam Heights Drugs, I get a terrific pain across the top, lower part of my chest. I mean, its a dandy! And it won't go away.

Of course, with my past coronary history you know what we are worrying about so after the drug store we head for urgent care. I am now convinced that I am gong to miss supper entirely as I will be sent to the hospital overnight for observation.

The doc comes in and decides they need blood to check on the heart and take x-rays to check on the digestive system. I had some fun with the x-ray tech, a short, fireball of a gal, who comes in and loudly says: "Take off your pants -- and put on these paper shorts!"

so I yell back at her: "Do ya want me to take off my pants?! Why don't you take 'em off for me?!" Another nurse pokes her head in the room to ask what's going on .

By the time they have the blood and the x-rays in the lab, it's turning the corner on 8:30PM, and we are both getting peckish. Thinking that it won't take long on the tests, I foolishly call in an order for a pizza at Sammy's.

8:50PM and still no doctor with results. I call Sammy's and ask if they have already put the pie in the oven. Yes they have. I tell them we are hung up at urgent care and that when and if we finally get out, I will call an order another one and pay for them both.

Doctor comes in about 8:55 to tell me that tests are all negative, heart is fine. Digestive shows a lot of gas.

I have never had that kind of digestsive distress before. But I'll take it over a heart attack any day.

I think it was the too- green banana I ate about 2:30 PM.

We had a great waitress at Sammy's. Insisted that we didn't have to pay for the first pizza I ordered, then brought it to us boxed as we were getting ready to leave. There goes the diet!

We left her a $10 tip.

Brewers, Chili Feeds, Radio Show Taping

Monday morning. Back from our Brewers Baseball trip. Friday night's game was a barn-burner with the Crew squeaking by 2-1 over the Phillies.

We got lost trying to find our way back to the hotel so we are cruising through the Mexican neighborhood at 11:30 at night (not that there's anything wrong with that) when we see a policeman accosting a citizen mid street and Kim says: "Just keep driving -- I'm not turning on the dome light to look at directions because they'll know we're lost. Drive like we're not lost."

We whiteys can be pretty funny with our paranoia. I remember a vacation in San Antonio, Texas. First time I walked down the street, I knew what it felt like to be a minority. I ended up, before leaving our hotel, taking money out of my wallet, sticking it in my front pocket and then stuffing my wallet up in the ceiling by lifting the ceiling tile.

But at the same time, there is reason to be paranoid in this screwed up world.

I can remember the time when I was in the service and took a bus to NYC from Fort Dix, then started hopping subways and ending up no where near where I thought I was going.

At one point I got off the subway, climbed the stairs to street level and the first person I encountered was this large black woman, whose eyes got big as saucers. she just grabbed me by the shoulders and as she wheeled me around to face the subway steps, said: "YOU DON'T WANNA BE HERE!"

I was in Harlem.

And that was a lotta years ago.

I just got an interesting e mail from Liz Fischer, my promoter, manager, publicist, marketeer. Here, I'll just paste it right in:

Good morning, Larry!

I just arranged for you to appear on the 5pm news on TV 13 September 6 to promote your
appearance at the Round Hill on September 8. You will need to learn more about the place
to talk about the event. Judy and I also discussed having a brief ( one minute ) interview with
a short (2 1/2 minute performance) of a song, maybe The Wood Tick Song. The total time if
3 1/2 minutes.

You and I can talk more about it later. I just wanted you to put it on your calendar.
Liz

That's cool! Need to let the Valley know that the old man isn't dead yet! I was just thinking that having survived a motorcycle accident adds to the "artist" mystique. Dylan-"esque".

Although I haven't been down there yet (I just made plans to scope it out) supposedly Round Hill is a beautiful spot right on the Chippewa River with quite a history. Originally it was a convenient stopping point for French voyageurs on the Chippewa. Later there were plans to start a town there which they were going to call "Onaway".

Fortunately, with a name like that., it never happened, but in the late 1860's Albert Gilmore agreed to run a sheer boom lodging house at that location as it was at the head of the Beef River Slough and there were a lot of rivermen who needed a place to lay their head while moving logs down river.

The location continued to grow and in the 20th century the Catholic church purchased it. at one time it was being considered as a retirement complex for aging priests. (too bad it isn't that today -- visiting my brother John would be much easier!)

At any rate, I am doing a fund raiser for "The St. Hubert's Sportsman's Rally and Chili Feed" down there on Saturday, September 8th. Should be a good time!

I must be doing something right today as I just heard from Mac Cherry down in beautiful Alma, Wisconsin . He has been curator, booking agent, and performer at the Big River Theatre in Alma for a number of years and this past year has organized a "Prairie Home Companion" type radio show at the theatre. He has a house band and invites guest performers in to be taped in live performance with an eye towards syndication.

I worked it once before and it's a great little venue, an old converted movie theatre.

I am on the bill for Friday, August 31st.

Once in a while I get stuff forwarded to me that I think is funny and I think the truth is always funier than made up. Here's proof:


*Have you ever asked your child
a question too many times?
My three-year-old son had a lot
of problems with potty training
and I was on him constantly.
One day we stopped at Taco Bell for a quick lunch in between errands. It was very busy, with a full dining room. While enjoying my taco, I smelled something funny,
so of course I checked my
seven-month-old daughter,
and she was clean. Then I realized that Danny had not asked to go potty in a while,
so I asked him if he needed to go, and he said, "No." I kept thinking, "Oh Lord, that child has had an accident, and I don't have any clothes with me."
Then I said, "Danny, are you SURE you didn't have an accident?" "No," he replied. I just KNEW that he must have had an accident, because the smell was getting worse. Soooooo, I asked one more time, "Danny, did you have an accident?" This time he jumped up, yanked down his pants, bent over and spread his cheeks and yelled. "SEE MOM, IT'S JUST FARTS!!"
While 30 people nearly choked to death on their tacos laughing,
he calmly pulled up his pants and sat down.

An old couple made me feel better by thanking me for the best laugh they'd ever had!

My letter From Congressman Kind: Biogas! In Favor of Bullshit. How Fitting!

Dear Lawrence:

Thank you for contacting me about energy policy. I appreciate hearing from you on this important issue.

I believe the United States must develop a comprehensive and balanced energy plan that finds 21 st century solutions to meet our current and future energy needs. Accomplishing this goal is crucial for national security, the economy, and the environment, and I am committed to working to establish such a plan. We must act now to develop clean, sustainable energy alternatives and capitalize on America 's vast renewable natural resources, such as Midwest grain. This investment in biofuels could allow Wisconsin 's universities to become a new " Silicon Valley " for biofuel research. It is time for us to invest in the Midwest, not the Middle East .

That is why I authored the Biogas Production Incentives Act of 2007, H.R. 2038. The Third Congressional District has over 6,000 dairy farms, more than any other congressional district. These farms represent a vast untapped source of clean, renewable energy. H.R. 2038 would provide modest incentives for farmers and small businesses to promote biogas - a substitute for natural gas created by the anaerobic digestion of animal waste and other organic bi-products. The Environmental Power Corporation has estimated national biogas production potential as the energy equivalent of approximately 2.5 billion gallons of heating oil per year. Although biogas is just one part of our larger course to energy independence, it is one that will invest in our rural communities, protect our environment from harmful greenhouse gases, and grow our economy.




Another piece of legislation you may be interested in is the CLEAN Energy Act of 2007, H.R. 6, of which I am a proud co-sponsor. This legislation would put America on the right course by steering us away from unnecessary and costly subsidies for the oil and gas industries. The savings generated from this move would allow us to invest an estimated $6.6 billion over the next ten years in clean and efficient energy. On January 18, 2007, the House passed H.R. 6 by a vote of 264 to 163. It is currently pending before the Senate.

Again, thank you for contacting me. Please do not hesitate to be in touch with additional comments or questions. I also encourage you to visit my website, www.house.gov/kind, where you can find updated information, sign up to receive my electronic newsletter, and send me e-mail.


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Love The Pack, But Not Myopically

In my blog of a couple of days ago I mentioned that I was bidding on a John Lynch All Star jersey on eBay. Well, hecky darn! Last night it turns out I submitted the high bid.

Let me make this clear: I am a die hard Packer fan; I bleed green and gold. That being said, I have long been a fan of John Lynch, all the way back to his Notre Dame playing days and he is one of the best white guys playing linebacker in the league.

The other day I was wearing my Peyton Manning Colts jersey and some guy at a gas station yelled out the window as he was leaving: "The Colts suck!" Really intelligent comment. Yeh, they sucked so bad they kicked the hell out of the big bad Bears in the superbowl.

The guy was probably a transplanted Illinoyance, a flatlander, a berry picker.

Alzheimer's May Be Striking Administation But I Can't Recall

With the NFL season looming large, I am beginning to get some funny stories forwarded to me, including this one:


John Madden was in New England to announce a football game one weekend when
he noticed a special telephone near the Patriots' bench. He asked QB Brady
what it was used for and was told it was a hotline to God. John asked if he
could use it. Brady replied, "Sure, but it will cost you $200."

John scratched his head, then thought, what the heck, I could use some help
picking games. He pulled out his wallet and paid $200. John's picks were
perfect that week.

The next week, John was in Indianapolis when he noticed that same kind of
phone on the Colts bench. He asked what the telephone was for and Manning
told him, "It's a hotline to God If you want to use it, it will cost you
$500." Recalling the previous week, John pulled out his wallet and made the
call. John's picks were perfect again that week.

Last weekend, John was in Green Bay , when he noticed the same kind of
telephone by the Packers' bench. He asked Brett Favre, "Is that the hotline
to God?" Favre said, "Yes, and if you want to use it, it will cost you 50
cents."

John looked incredulously at Favre and said, "Wait a second, I just paid
$200 in New England and $500 in Indianapolis to use the same phone to God!
Why do the Packers only charge 50 cents?"

Favre replied, "Because in Green Bay, it's a local call."

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Yesterday's collapse of the I-35 bridge near down town Minneapolis illustrates a point. For years America has been allowing its infrastructure to deteriorate. We have much more important priorities: killing brown people for profit.

Dick Cheney is way too busy lining his pockets through Haliburton to worry about such trivial matters as our transportation system or for that matter, our sanitation system.

We are spending billions of dollars in Iraq, money that should be used to rebuild our own country.

Another thing that our present administration pretends not to understand is that the National Guard is by definition America's army. Guard troops should not be sent to foreign shores to fight George's dirty little war. They should be here, defending our borders and helping in disasters such as the flooding in New Orleans and this latest tragedy in Minneapolis.

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ADMINISTARATION DISPLAYS SELECTIVE ALZHEIMER'S DISEASE

"I cannot recall" has become the Repulican administration's answer to any question that makes them uncomforable to answer. Ronald Reagan, it turns out, actually could NOT recall much of anything near the end of his term because he legitimately was diagnosed with Alzheimer's.

But Attorney General Gonzalez weaved in and out of his Alzheimer's during senate hearings. And yesterday, good old "Rummy" Rumsfeld In his first public appearance since leaving the Bush administration, testified Wednesday that he could not recall how or when he learned of Cpl. Pat Tillman's death.

Senator Kucinich accused Rumsfeld of being involved in a string of cover-ups.

"Well, you know, maybe it was good because you actually covered up the Tillman case for awhile, you covered up the Jessica Lynch case, you covered up Abu Ghraib, so something was working for you."

I don't know about you, but I am beginning to feel like a mushroom. My government keeps me in the dark and feeds me bullshit.

Just In from My Father/Brother John

From the caustic and brilliant pen of my brother:

"Something has to be done. In my more humorous or whimsical moments I propose the following scenario: The Republican field is growing stale and infected by George W. So, Fred Thompson waits until Labor Day to make a splashy entrance as the next Ronald Reagan, and wins the Republican nomination. I mean, after all, he has just what America seems to want: steely eyes of resolve, a determined jaw, broad shoulders, a towering physique, an Actor's Equity card, and the studied gift of pretending to be strong.

But stay with me. The scenario continues as follows: The Democrats realize that they need to find someone who can stand up to Fred Thompson. So, after a confusing and lackluster set of primaries they finally turn to, who else: TOMMY LEE JONES! He's the logical choice. Thompson may be a TV star, but Jones is an Academy Award-winning movie star. He eats TV guys for lunch.

There you have it--my contribution to current political theory. Tommy Lee Jones: The next president of the United States."

Nevr-Dull, Mr. Clean

Yesterday while I was polishing all the chrome on the bath room and kitchen fixtures here at the office, I thought this would be an excellent photograph to use on my next CD, providing, of course, that I record nothing that can be considered dull.

On second thought, why leave the door open for the critics? I could go sarcastic and be holding a bottle of "Mr. Clean".

My good friend Gary Spaeth just dropped in for a short surprise visit. We got to talking about friday, August 10th, as he is working the same party as I that day - an anniversary party for Moose Country 106.7 employees. Gary goes on with Jerry Lemke and his little big band (or is it big little band?) at 6PM and he has graciously said he will hang around and work my set with me, also, but not without some sort of compensation as Jerry Lemke is paying Gary out of his own pocket.

Can you believe that corporate radio has no budget for entertainment at their anniversary party. Guess that's why they asked Larry, Jerry, and Gary.

So I am taking Tim "Too Tall" Keilholtz, who is playing bass au gratin for me, and Gary, who will be playing anything with strings on it, to dinner at Jake's across the street from the big gig. I figure as long as we're out, we may as well make an occasion of it and fill up on prime rib.

Come to think of it, John Lynch owes me a prime rib from last time!

I am currently bidding on a John Lynch All Star jersey on eBay. If I win it, I will have to wear it to dinner. Talk about a suck up!

I really love Gary Spaeth a lot -- but he can be a bad influence on the mindless. He is the guy that found, just for me, the '65 Oldsmobile that I had in my possession until I couldn't afford gasoline for it anymore. It was well worth the experience as I got a good song out of it.

In addition to being a great instrumentalist, Gary has a great singing voice and can do a spot-on Elvis. As I mentioned in a blog ages ago, Gary was one of the three amigos that went on the "Eat Like Elvis" tour. We all crashed in one room at Motel 6's to save money for more important things like beer and I always laugh when I think of one of us expelling gas loudly and Gary saying officiously: "LET THE FARTING BEGIN".

I've just been leafing through the book "1003 Great Things About Getting Older" and I'm not so sure I like the tenor of the book. Some entries that chafe:

Adult diapers are actually kind of convenient.
It's easier to find a radio station you enjoy listening to. (I don't get this one .. it's actually impossible for me to find one. the last easy listening station in the valley disappeared!)

On the other hand, live is too short for:

Planting trees
Doing pushups
Raking leaves
Buying the extended warranty.
Changing planes in Chicago
Keeping down those credit card balances
Wrapping it yourself
(or as was the case this week, assembling a book case)
Checking the nutritional information
and for Kim: CLEANING THE BASEMENT

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