What you see is what you get

 

This is probably going to be my New Year greeting this year, so you may as well get used to it, Folks. It's a little like the Chinese method, but this one's for all of us Old Farts who are bored cross-eyed with traditional traditions and conventional conventions, and want something entirely different and not too serious.

I went to the other mall today - the one that's down the street eastward instead of a few blocks to the west, because that's where Sears and its Watch Repair is. That Watch Repair and Battery Replacement is tucked away under the escalator going up to the second floor (furniture, appliances, electronics and catalogue ordering departments) and it is run by a nice Oriental chap who is very polite. He's definitely not claustrophobic either, because that place is hardly big enough to turn around in. If he weighed another hundred pounds, he would need to be greased and pushed in there, and he wouldn't be able to turn around.

From the parking lot out back to the Sears store at the front side of the mall is a fairly long hike, especially with a sore toe as a result of that accident with the drill and the board on December 9th, so I pampered myself by stopping quite frequently to rest it. Like at the display set up in the middle of the hallway near the halfway mark. The one at which they are desperately hoping to unload all those unsold calendars for 2012. The reason most are unsold is because they are either about subjects and pictures nobody wants, or are filled with pictures your mother wouldn't approve of, like the ones for Playboy and Sports Illustrated. I looked at the cover of that Sports Illustrated one, and the first thought that entered my tired old brain was "God! They ought to have given it the title of 'Implants Illustrated'! There's more silicone there than around my bathtub!"

I didn't buy one, because, as a cute little exotic dancer once said to me, "I don't understand you guys!" Shocked, I asked, "What the hell do you mean by that remark with you in the business you're in - if anybody ought to understand us guys, it ought to be you, Darling!" And she replied, "I don't understand why you guys sit here in Gynecology Row slobbering over something you know damned well you'll never get your hands on!" I asked, "Who said anything about 'hands'? It's your agile mind I'm trying to get into, and I'll bet you I can over a very expensive dinner for two at one of the best restaurants in town if you'd like to get down off your high horse and rub elbows with the unwashed masses for two or three hours some evening." That was the start of a very interesting summer back in the beginning of my Happily Divorced Days.  I still miss Kate sometimes.