It is around 7:00 on this Saturday morning and it is already hot and humid in Houston town and the birds are singing and -- well there are a couple of mourning doves cooing. Marilyn, my wife, used to think that cooing was owls and she kept looking for those owls until her mother informed her of what they really were. Now she is cooingly educated. I am sitting at my computer but my attention is drawn to the little Kodak video camera setting on my desk mocking me. It is a Kodak Play Sport and it is a little thicker than a cell phone and records HD video. That doesn't impress me since I don't have a HD TV and not too interested in getting one. But it also records at the slum level, that is non-HD too which is right up my alley as soon as I figure out how to use it. It only has five buttons so it can't be that complicated and has a square flat battery and 16 GB flash card in it so it can record hours of stuff if I can get past step 1. I read the nine pages of English in the manual before it switched to Japanese and French and Spanish and Chinese. I didn't learn much from it but I did actually get it to record my bare feet propped up on the desk last night for a few moments. I just don't remember how I got it to do that.
You see, it is pretty important for me to figure this thing out pretty soon. The week after next I am leaving town for my annual sojourn which this time will be in Utah and it would be good to be able to record video when I do this because that is why I got it. But there is a more immediate problem. When the TSA agent opens my briefcase in the airport and sees this electronic device and asks what it is and I tell him it is a video camera and he says show me -- it would be smart to be able to turn it on and record something or he might not let me on the plane. So today I will figure it out and take more video of my feet.
I will be having a busy time for the next two weeks. Next weekend Marilyn and I will be venturing to Louisiana to the casino in celebration of our tenth wedding anniversary. When you go to the casino on your anniversary they make a casino-wide announcement that we are there celebrating the fact and "would everyone please give them a round of applause" and sixteen people out of the two thousand will clap their hands and it is pretty heady stuff.
Anniversaries are really arbitrary things and is based on a calendar that only works right here on earth. If we were on Mars we would be celebrating our 4.628 year anniversary or if on Pluto it would be our 0.344 year anniversary. Okay, I made that up but you know what I mean -- it's just a calendar thing -- 3,650 days since we wed so -- oh never mind, this argument will hold no water with Marilyn.
The reason we have been married for ten years is that we like each other which is almost as important as loving each other. We do that too even though I got Marilyn lost yesterday while she was following me to take my car to a specialist to make my sunroof stop leaking. In fact she mentally prepares for us to get lost whenever I try to go someplace new but it doesn't bother me because I look at the built-in compass and figure what direction we are supposed to go and just sort of head that way. I could use my GPS but most of the time I forget about it and leave it home. So in spite of this minor perturbation in behavior she still loves me. We can easily say that the past ten years have been the best of our lives and we can talk about anything with each other. She even reads my blog now and then. If she likes something she will say "that was a nice blog that you wrote the other day", otherwise I guess it doesn't pass muster because she doesn't say anything. To sum it up I can't think of anywhere I had rather be than with my wife. One of our favorite pastimes is to sit on the sofa and complain about our aches and pains. We have developed the notion of hypochondria to a fine art and we each work hard to get the other one to feel sorry for our wretched condition.
So we'll be at the casino sitting in front of video machines trying to outdo each other while kibitzing each others play and get our free meals and free lodging because the casino thinks that they have a couple of suckers on the hook. We get free drinks too not counting the tips that you give to the little ladies in the really short shorts that serve them, but then we are not much for alcoholic things. Somewhere is the venture Marilyn will get one Pina Colada and I will get a Cuba Libre and we will be pleased that we are acting like grown-ups. Our video poker hours will be long late into the night and early the following morning and we end up arriving back home feeling like zombies. But this is our choice for anniversary celebration.
Then the following week I head out on my annual sojourn to southern Utah with my digital video camera and my digital camera -- which I know how to operate. I've mentioned before that every year I embark on a trip somewhere by myself. I like going to state and national parks and wander around and rejuvenate which usually means that I get stuck on a trail somewhere and look up at a hill I have to climb and wonder why I am doing this when I could be sitting in an air conditioned house griping with my wife about my aches and pains. But it is part of the process -- the getting away into a completely new environment. Marilyn gets me out of the house and I think enjoys the serenity which I interrupt with a daily phone call whenever I can figure out how to use my prepaid cell phone. She has little interest in climbing sweaty aching trails and confronting bears and mountain lions. She loves to travel, but not this way. If I had one of those IPod things with those little earphones I probably would be playing Happy Trails To You sung by Roy Rogers and the Sons of the Pioneers over and over because that would set the mood for conquering Utah.
Since I usually write this blog thing on either Saturday or Sunday morning because that is the quiet time I have figured out that it will be probably be a couple of weeks until I post again. So you won't have to read this and then turn and mutter to your spouse or significant other or whoever else is nearby, "What the hell is he talking about?" for a little while.