Treemendous Christmas

My daughter and her friends sometimes play an Expectations vs. Reality game. They talk about what they expect to do, and then spectacularly fail in the reality of attempting to do it. For example, they can talk about expecting to make a perfect dive like this …

dive good

And then in reality do this at the pool …

German dive

Except without all the somersaults. Just the flop at the end is more like it for them.

I had grandiose expectations to decorate a tree outside this year. My wife decorated the outside of the house and it looks great again this year. It always does. She’s an awesome decorator. Not to be outdone, I eyed a large tree on the side of our house that would look incredible decked out with any leftover lights. I suggested to my wife that some icicle lights would look good on that tree. Nope. She pointed out that the white wire on the green tree would look terrible, and those icicle lights should only be used along the gutter. Well, duh. I knew that. Of course, I was just testing her. She passed along to me several old sets of appropriate lights and off to work I went.

My expectations were something like this …

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Best Hotel Ever?

I was on the road again this week, and may have discovered the best hotel ever. Okay, so maybe some Trump Hotel properties are nicer, am I right?

vomit baby

Agreed.

I walked into my hotel behind a business dude all dressed up in a fancy suit. I saw him look at me with a bit of disdain. In fairness to him, the jeans I had on were super-faded, threadbare, and frayed. I am sure the biz guy was wondering who the homeless guy behind him stole the nice luggage from that I was rolling behind me.

The biz exec checked in as a Gold member. I saw the welcome sign in the lobby with his name on it under the Gold Member column … right next to my name as a freakin’ Platinum member. The hotel counter worker greeted the biz dude with “Thank you for being a Gold member.” I wanted to somehow, someway keep the businessman in the lobby as I bellied up to the counter to check in just so he would hear the counter guy greet me with, “Thank you for being a Platinum member.” Yes, I can be that petty. However, I let him exit the lobby and I had to be satisified with my Platinum member bonus points.

I was a little bummed until I saw this on my hotel room door …

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A Twitter Mystery

As the election cycle heats up, Russian Twitter bots are starting to swarm. If I get a new follower with a Twitter name including a long string of numbers, bad grammar in their tweets, and pro-Trump tweets, I’m pretty sure that it’s a Russian bot. They get an automatic block. I follow an outstanding political cartoonist, @repeat1968, who imagined what those pro-Trump Russian bots look like …

yolo4

Terrifying. I always keep my eyes to the skies now.

When I got the following notifcation from Twitter, I immediately thought “eat” because I was hungry at the time. And then I thought “bot” because of the Twitter name. But that’s when the mystery started. Take a look …

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Don’t Look Back

In 1978, the band Boston was urging us to “Don’t Look Back.” However, recently I have been looking back because what’s behind me is more than what’s ahead of me. And I’m not referring to my fat ass. I’m taking about life. In 1978, I looked to my life ahead of me. In 2019, I do tend to reminisce a bit.

Recently, my elementary school was holding an all-alumni school reunion before it closed forever. I didn’t go, but after seeing on Facebook who went from my grade, I waxed a bit nostalgic. If only I had waxed my neck and shoulders before the reunion, maybe I would have gone.

But then, reality hit me in the face like a fish out of water. I think I’m mixing metaphors, but that allows me to use this gif …

fish in face.gif

I think I know what Boston was getting at back in ’78. I’ll explain.

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