Out In The Sun Too Long?

Good news! I survived the eclipse! And, I assume, if you’re reading this you survived as well. Or not. I have no definitive proof that my blog isn’t read by the dearly departed; though common sense says no. Speaking of common sense, I’m pretty sure that’s a rare form of thinking on the verge of extinction.

Standing in a long line at the store the other day, I heard a guy say he’d like to view the next solar eclipse from the perspective of the sun—looking back toward the Earth. He told us he was already checking into travel arrangements. Okay, then.

Apparently, the guy has never heard how far away the sun is. (Not to mention the availability of flights to the sun is sort of limited. Severely limited. As in none.) I guess he’s never heard how hot the sun is either. And that, even if he could somehow manage to get there and not burn up, trying to find the Earth would be rather difficult.

I didn’t say anything because well, the only things I could think of were not polite! (Yes, I do know how to be polite—at times). However, another guy in line wasn’t as nice. “You’re joking right?”

The would-be space traveler insisted he certainly was not. The two of them argued the finer points traveling to the sun for a few minutes before the sane one gave up. Looking at me, he rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly. I just nodded—with a smirk on my face, I’m sure.

And that would be the real reason I chose to not get involved in the conversation; a rational and reasonable person stands no chance against utter insanity—and after listening to Solar Man talk, I’m convinced he wasn’t dealing with a full deck. What’s worse though, is there were at least a couple of people in line who seemed to agree with him. See why I say common sense is in danger of becoming lost forever?

I know the eclipse is over but I think these people are still very much in the dark. On a related note: marijuana use is now legal in Oregon! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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The Dark Side Of The Sun

Did someone mention something about a solar eclipse? Think I heard that somewhere—amid all the dire warnings of how Oregon’s economy is going to crash. The theory was a sudden influx of a million or more people would strain supply chains, such as food, gas, ATM’s, as well as disrupt phone and Internet service. Traffic was also a big concern. All this of course was supposed to lead to much mayhem and chaos with a possible failure of the power grid. The total eclipse would bring total destruction—if one listened to the nitwits in charge. They, and the so-called experts, were predicting some very dark days.

I agree that a million additional people crammed into a small area would cause a few problems, temporarily (in a few days, things would go back to normal). I just didn’t think that many would actually show up. And apparently, they didn’t. Sure, the cities in the direct line for the full effect of the eclipse have a few visitors. I’ve seen pictures, and there are a lot of people, but nowhere close to what was expected. And so far, there have been no ill effects, at least not in my neck of the woods. In fact, I saw virtually no difference in traffic levels, or anything else, in the last few days.

Granted, Monday afternoon may be a different story—when those people who did show up all leave at once. But that will be short-lived. By the time I get home from work late Monday night—or early Tuesday morning, depending on your perspective—I’m thinking they will be long gone.

Since the event is taking place near my house, I will get up early to view it. But I’m not driving the two hours it would take to see the eclipse in its totality. I might think differently had I not already witnessed a total eclipse—in the very town in which I now live—back in 1979.

I remember it well and as I recall, the only thing that happened then was it got dark for a few minutes during the day. I’m guessing that this time, history may repeat itself—the day will turn dark, then light again, and it will be over. No catastrophic calamities. But I could be wrong. The disastrous devastation may eclipse all expectations. I’ll let you know next week—if I’m still here. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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In A Fix

So, my wife has decided we need to replace the carpet in our house. And, as you can imagine, “we” means me. Which is fine. She does help when I need something, but I’m quite content to do the work.

What I’m having trouble with is the “replacing” aspect—especially since she wants to replace our carpet with simulated hardwood vinyl flooring. I don’t mind the simulated or vinyl part necessarily; I would just prefer to have carpet. I like carpet. It’s warm and cozy, and a little quieter to walk on. And to me, carpet looks better.

Actually, if it were up to me, I’d probably just leave the carpet we have. Less work that way. And why replace perfectly good carpet? However, since my wife also lives in the house, I shall defer to her and not only replace the carpet but replace it with vinyl.

And that’s how I came to spend my Saturday night ripping out carpet and prepping the floor. And in doing so, realized my wife may have been on to something with this replacing the carpet idea. Not that I had much of an argument against it; after 18 years it was starting to wear a bit. Or a lot. The kids, grandkids, and dogs, not to mention me with my muddy boots tracking dirt in, have all taken their toll. Even I had to admit it was well beyond time for a new floor—and that vinyl plank flooring might not be so bad.

However, convincing my three-year-old grandson is another matter. Apparently, he’s a little like his grandfather and not a big advocate of change. When he came into the house on Sunday, he was almost distraught at the thought of “his” carpet going away. “Put it back,” he told me. We explained the carpet was old, dirty, and needed replacing. He finally agreed that we could replace the carpet but he wanted new carpet NOT something else. “You can get a new floor without CHANGING it,” he says.

After a little more discussion, we thought the matter was settled. But a few hours later, after finishing our Sunday dinner at a restaurant, he wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of going back to our house. “Is the carpet going to be back?” he wanted to know.

I said no and told him it was outside in my pickup, ready to get hauled away. He seemed mollified at that—since there was still time to make his case, I assume. The kid will probably grow up to be a lawyer because he is great at presenting a well-reasoned argument for just about anything.

So, I think I’ve found my wife’s role in this undertaking—she gets to negotiate with the grandkid. Perhaps she can work out a deal—or a plea bargain. As for me, I’ll be busy working on the floor. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Time Traveler

So, I got a call from the future the other day. From my son. Really! Actually, he calls from the future quite often.

This is particularly noteworthy because when he was about 6 or 7 years old, he was obsessed with time travel. He read books on the subject, studied them to be more accurate, and discussed—at length—building a time machine with a guy in our church after nearly every service. Time travel was one of his many interests early in life. But, it was a dream he eventually gave up on when he discovered it would take far more power than he could possibly amass. Theoretically possible, but it just wasn’t feasible.

Yet, when he got older, he did find a way to travel to the future—and he calls me frequently just to prove it. You’d think he’d give me a hot stock tip or something. Maybe help me out with knowing when to stay home from work to miss a winter storm. That would be nice. But he never does. Perhaps that sort of thing might be against the rules, I don’t know.

Okay, I know many of you are reading this with a frown on your face. Probably thinking I’ve finally lost it. “Time travel isn’t real,’ I’m sure you’re saying.

Oh, but it is. How, you ask?

Simple really. At least the way my son does it is simple—he moved to a different time zone and is always an hour ahead of me. Except when he comes to visit and travels back in time—and then he goes back to the future. And all it takes is a tank of gas! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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