Two new blogs

Two new blogs, one on Balcony Tomatoes and one on the librarian blog. Idle hands are the devil's workshop

Testing the tubes

Recently read an article that made me nostalgic for the good olde days. Remember when a radio stopped working and you would pull the back off and take the tubes out? Then you would bring the tubes to an electronics store or even Modell's and test the tubes in a device like that seen in the picture. More often than not, you'd find out you had a bad tube. You'd buy a replacement and you'd be on your way. You had to be careful putting the tubes back in the right slots, though, or the radio might explode.

Facebook

I've had Facebook for over a year now. I got an invitation from someone who wanted me to look at a movie she put up. The movie was good and it introduced me to Facebook. The best part of Facebook is in discovering people you used to know but lost track of. It's fascinating to see what people you knew from elementary school or the street where you grow up look like and what they ended up doing. The weird thing about Facebook is that once you friend someone, you get to follow them and their families as they go on vacation or to the zoo and soon the novelty wears off.

Facebook groups can be fun too, in a way. I am in the group for my high school class. They apparently have a core group that has mini reunions in a bar. Thanks to Facebook I now know about these events. The big local band in high school, Filet of Soul, is performing again. It's just like being in high school again. Isn't it wonderful

Corn fields in the garden state

This may be anecdotal, but this weekend, driving around Mercer County, I noticed a lot of corn fields in the suburbs. Vacant tracts, being held in waiting for the next housing development or mall are being utilized as corn fields. Apparently corn harvests are supposed to be high this year. Sort of fun, passing corn fields on the way to the mall.

The Jersey shore

There are two types of people in New Jersey. Those who flock to the Jersey shore on weekends and those who don't. The ones that do get to enjoy the traffic jams, overpriced food, entrance fees, crowded beaches and iffy weather. A weather forecast for hot and humid can turn into cold and clammy once one gets east of the Parkway.

When I was a kid my father explained that where you went on the shore depended upon your nationality. Italians went to Belmar, Jews went to Bradly Beach, Irish went to Avon, Methodists went to Ocean Grove. Today it's more catch as catch can, hordes of drivers looking for parking spaces less than a mile from the beach. Since my father couldn't swim and the rest of the family got sunburned within a few minutes of arrival, our trips to the shore were limited to semi-annual visits. My most memorable trip to the shore is the time we arrived at the beach, my brother stepped on a bee, and the family immediately went home.

As I got older my father discovered a bed and breakfast (they didn't call them that then) that was at the Irish contingent of the shore. I remember watching television with nuns that year.

If you don't go to the shore you can delight in the fact that the roads are empty and you can go anywhere and nothing is crowded. One of the secrets of living in New Jersey is the pleasure of not going to the shore.

Whenever you ask someone what they enjoy doing most they always say "walking on the beach". What is it with walking on the beach?

Pepper plants

Took a picture of my plants again this year and they are featured in the other blog. It's pretty bad when you realize you'll never look as good as Anthony Weiner.

Motorcycles

Viewers of television in New Jersey have lately been subjected to this ad about sharing the road with motorcycles. I guess it is trying to show that your grandmother, doctor and accountant can ride motorcycles. True, due to the overall greying of America and the higher costs of owning a motorcycle, the young, tattooed toughs that we think of as motorcycle riders may be an out of date image.

Still, I have to say my mother never rode a motorcycle and I can't think of anyone I know who has a mother that rides one. Hence, there is a certain falseness to the thought that most people's grandmothers ride motorcycles. Except in television situation comedies.