The Last Piece

There were rumors going around the plant that they were going to let us go at lunch.  Alas, that's all it turned out to be, a rumor.  They made us work every last minute of that final, interminable shift before our holiday.  But the final interminable shift finally terminated, and I'm free until Monday.

The last piece of my musical puzzle has arrived.  I finally have a real piano bench, and just in time for my long weekend, too.

It's a bit smaller than I'd thought, but it'll do for now.  It's better than that folding chair, for sure.  The bench is just a wee bit higher than the chair was, so I'll have to get used to the new positioning.  And as usual, because I'm short, my feet don't quite sit flat on the ground.  Yay.

Short people problems, eh?

Still, I'm finally starting to feel like a real musician.

Just not when playing the guitar.  Which is still the bane of my existence.

Let's change the subject, shall we?

I've mentioned before, my job is kind of a no-brainer.  That, coupled with a 12 hour shift, gives me lots of time for my mind to wander.  Sometimes it wanders to places I don't necessarily want it to go...like when we had to dance in P.E. class in school.  Yeah.

Did y'all do that too, or was it just us?

Well, one of the dances I just could not get the hang of was the polka.  The poor girl I was paired with and I neither one ever got that dance down.  Other pairs were whirling around the gym, and we were just struggling -- stomping on each other's feet, losing our place, and not having any rhythm.  That, of course, it put me in mind of this song.



I don't know about New York girls, but this Texas girl sure couldn't dance the polka.

Y'all probably have figured out by now, I'm a big fan of these white headed shanty men, and their token toy boy.  I just love listening to everything they sing.

Now, when most people are a fan of someone, whether it's a singer/singing group, an actor, an athlete, or Dan Crenshaw, there's certain things fans tend to do.  They follow someone on Twitter or Instagram.  Like their Facebook page, and comment on their posts.  They book mark the person's web page, and maybe send a message or a fan e-mail.  Maybe even write an old fashioned fan letter by snail mail.  You attend their concerts or games, watch their movies.  Go to cons, or charity events.  Take selfies, and ask for autographs...whatever.  That's what normal people do.

Me, on the other hand, I'm a dork.  I don't do any of those things.  So, what do I do?

I add their village to my weather app.

Sigh...

Just shoot me now.  Somebody.  Just.  Shoot.  Me.  Now.

And look at this, when I'm seriously fan girling, I can put it into Celcius.

So I can see the weather the way they would. 

What can I say?  I'm a dork, and dorks gotta dork.

Oh, and by the way, my older brother in El Paso may have the highest actual temperature, but they only have 11% humidity.

Me with my 54% humidity, I have the highest "Feels Like" temp of all the ones I ...um...follow.

On the Weather Channel App.  Not Facebook.  Not Twitter or Instagram.  The WEATHER CHANNEL APP.  

*Sniff*  My father would be so proud.  *Sniff*


And for your 'Murica moment of the day, I bring back this old classic.




Say it with me now:

'Murica!!