Durf's excellent adventure.

I was going to blog about heros today, until I decided that I'd better say more about my micro-movie adventure yesterday.

It all started a couple of years ago when I realized that most major studmuffins wear bling. I began to wonder if I were the only one who wasn't. But it seemed like it would be a significant change, since I didn't even start wearing my wedding ring all the time until three years ago, when the springs in the couch started to poke through.

Twila and I were shopping in NYC a while ago when we saw a guy wearing earrings. Twila smiled and said to me, "Too bad you're the wrong color for that." The guy looked good, though, so I thought about it more.

Yesterday was the appointed day. I told Twila I'd do it, even if I weren't in the mood at the moment. We drove to Longmont and I let Kaiser drain off some of my blood, then we went across the street to Piercing Pagoda. It wasn't open yet, so we spent some time looking at the bling. After a while I told Twila that I'd rather wait and do it some other time, but she asked why and I couldn't come up with a good answer.

Finally they opened and I began gasping for air. Fortunately there was another customer, a girl about 13 years old, who went first. She got in the chair and I watched closely. She didn't even flinch. Then the Pagoda girl came over and asked Twila what she wanted. I butted in and pointed to earrings and said, "I'd like them, and I want them installed." There was no turning back at that point, without looking like a studwuss.

That's when my education began. Here was I, a 64-year-old guy, about to learn what most 7th grade girls already know. It turned out to be more than I'd expected.

Speaking of age, the Piercing Pagoda does enforce a minimum age policy. To get a piercing there you have to be at least 2 months old. True. But a child of that age does get special treatment. PP recognizes that after stabbing one of a baby's earlobes, doing the other would be a really big hassle. So they use two piercer persons and stab both lobes at once. I understand the philosophy. That's why I had all my wisdom teeth extracted at the same time.

It was time to hop in the chair. I wasn't nervous at all, even though I seemed to be trembling just a bit. It was a new environment for me.

The Pagoda girl slapped some alcohol on my earlobes and then put a dot on each, kind of a target. She and Twila spent about 5 minutes deciding whether the dots were in the same place on each lobe. I refused to look in the mirror. How would I know? They were the experts. Finally they agreed that the dots were okay.

Pagoda girl asked if I wanted her to count to 3 or just do it. I told her to just do it, because I really didn't want to have to anticipate it too much. I hadn't asked anyone if the piercing hurt, but I had watched the non-flinching girl earlier, and I wasn't too worried. I felt Pagoda girl put something against my lobe, and then she pulled the trigger. It felt like a nail cutting slowly through my skin. I was determined not to flinch, but I probably blanched, at least. Pagoda girl asked if I were okay, and I said, "Why sure! Why wouldn't I be?", as I pushed myself back upright in the chair. The other ear was a lot less painful. The good news was that she didn't have to push earring nails through the freshly torn holes... they were already there. Apparently the piercing gun just shoots the earrings through your ear and then slaps the clutch (new word for me) on the other side.

My education wasn't over, however. I have to wear these studly studs for 4-6 weeks, according to PP, and probably 8 weeks, according to Twila. The older you are, the longer it takes to heal. So for the next couple of months I have to wear the earrings always, even when sleeping. Twice a day I have to put some antiseptic solution on the earring nails and rotate them one full turn. It seems like a lot of work, but I'll do it. Probably mothers do it for their 2nd grade daughters, but I'm on my own.

Actually, I think the earrings look good. I definitely look more studmuffinly. And there are some other advantages, it seems. Yesterday I went to a drugstore and a young woman held the door open for me. She might have been in shock, I confess.

New blog!

We have a new blog, and I mean "we"! You're all invited to participate. Check it out at http://oui-sez.blogspot.com/.

See you there!

Rewound.

Today I declare "TwiDurf in NYC" to have officially ended, except for comments and emergency posts. Twila says she wants to start a new blog along "He Sez, She Sez" lines, but we don't have any real ideas yet about what to talk about.

This has been a lot of fun, and thanks to all of you!

P.S. Jan, are you getting my email?

Rewind.

It just occurred to me that I really don't like writing about myself, and if you aren't already bored with it you soon will be, I promise. The problem is that there are thousands of stories a day in New York and the last story in Loveland was recorded last year.

I thought I might try to keep this blog going, but Twila says she's through and I don't have anything to write about. If you have any suggestions about how to solve this conundrum, please send them to the email address of this blog, whatever it is.

I, Durfbot.

A couple of years ago when I, somewhat reluctantly, became retired, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it. The pay is horrible, but I really like being able to do whatever I want whenever I want. I did not experience a loss of identity, as I had when I was unemployed for several months in 1980. I could spend hours reading newspapers, then more hours flicking away the day. My failure to produce anything useful did cause some guilt, but I was raised Catholic, so I'm used to that.

I wasn't surprised that I didn't write a novel or create a best-selling iPhone application. Throughout my life I've worked hard for others, but have almost zero personal ambition. I am content to absorb whatever knowledge and pleasure flows my way.

The NuSTAR job was a wonderful experience. Twila and I had a great time, and both of us fell in love with New York City. Getting up in the wee hours and working six days a week was kind of annoying, but it wiped away any guilt I might have felt by goofing off the rest of the time. Not to mention that I was making more money than I'll probably ever make again, or at least until I finish that iPhone app.

Alas, all good things must come to an end (as must all bad things). The time passed quickly, and in a seeming flash it was time to return home to Colorado. That was fine with me. As a bobbing apple on the sea of life, I am used to change. But, there was work to be done. Twila was already in Loveland, so it was up to me to pack the rest of our stuff and get it home. That's when robot mode started.

If I *have* to do something, I just do it. It began gradually and accelerated as the deadline neared. I packed 22 boxes and took them to UPS.

Maybe I need to say something about that. Twenty-two boxes is a lot, but Twila and I weren't able to carry much to NY. Instead, we bought what we needed when we arrived. Before she left NY, Twila shipped back about 6 boxes, including a lot of items related to her business. I shipped many more boxes for two reasons. One is that I had to ship the household items that we shared. The other is that I bought more things in NY. After all, I was making money, and what is money for?

You all know what moving is like. To sum it up, "no fun". As the days wore on, I wandered around our apartment zombie-like, stuffing boxes and cleaning and absolutely determined to do a good job.

That lasted until Twila arrived to drive home with me, and even into the next morning. Then we were on the road. It was as fun a trip back as a non-recreational driving trip can be. But driving up to 10 hours a day for 3 consecutive days is tiring and not without stress. Blessedly, at last we were home.

Then there was the initial unloading of the car and unpacking of boxes and suitcases. After that there were the 4 boxes that I'd shipped first. On Tuesday 10 more boxes arrived (many of them squished and ripped). And today the final 8 boxes appeared.

In addition to the unpacking and trying to figure out where to put everything, I had to register my car, reinstall computer equipment, take care of house maintenance issues, and all the other things that had piled up. I think it will be a couple of weeks, at least, before I can return to my life of useless idleness.

In the meantime, I am a robot. I don't even think about how much I have to do, I just do it. I go from task to task in a semi-trance, almost numb to the exhaustion that's built up over the last few weeks. New hassles don't bother me, they just get put on the pile. I have become a machine.

Brilliant (until 1st round) brackets.

Durf's

Twila's

The beagle has landed.

A very busy day... well, several... lies ahead, but I think it appropriate to take a moment to tell you that last night we arrived safely in Loveland. Besides, my preferred title for this post gives me the opportunity, if not obligation, to name my Outback - Snoopea.

Leaving Tarrytown was a ginormous feat. We arrived there in June with everything packed into my Prius. Before leaving, Twila shipped via UPS 6 medium-sized U-Haul boxes back to Loveland; I managed to pack and ship 22 (mostly medium, some small). Then I folded down the seats in the Outback, smiled at the large amount of space available, and proceeded to pack it completely. It was so full that in the event of a front collision numerous projectiles would have flown forward in a terrifyingly hazardous manner. In the end we couldn't even stuff in a small but nifty waste paper basket that both of us fancied, and several non-food items were stuffed in our cooler (which we forgot to ice).

After final jamming on Friday morning, we dropped the keys off at the manager's office and hit the road. Well, tapped the road might be a more apt description. A major artery near us had been closed because of flooding, and the street outside the apartment complex was filled with bumper-to-bumper stop-and-go westbound traffic. Cleverly, we turned east and circled around most of that traffic, only to not-so-cleverly miss our turnoff. Searching for another way around the mess we ended up in Dobbs Ferry, which at the time could more accurately be described as No Man's Land. To cross the Hudson meant a huge amount of traffic in either direction from there, so we adapted by getting lattes.

Finally we did reach the Tappan Zee bridge and our long trip began. It was annoying at first, because the Outback only had 300 miles on the odometer, and use of cruise control was advised against during the 1000-mile break-in period. Being virtually wed to the concept of cruise control, I found having to use my foot to control the accelerator while simultaneously having to monitor speed to be painfully retro. I did get to 800 miles before starting to cheat, though.

We spent the first night in Youngstown, Ohio, and the second in Altoona, Iowa. We arrived in Loveland at 6 PM Sunday, though with the changes in time zone combined with the switch to daylight saving time, it could have been 5 or 7:30 PM.

Hopefully Twila will overcome her blogophobia long enough to fill in some of the blanks. I'm off to rediscover my home.