“We’re this pack of honeybees just working away.” Ray Garcia

Gosh what an exhausting day.

The bees finally showed up. Woo-hoo!

The brakes of the UPS truck creaked as it glided to a halt. I peeked out the window as the driver walked slowly to the door, holding the box up so he could see the precious cargo. In the middle of a conference call, I answered the door with a headset and laptop in hand.
“I’ve been delivering packages for about ten years. I’ve delivered live lobsters, but this is the first time I’ve ever delivered bees.”

Me: “Oh really?”

This is what he was carrying. As is. Pretty cool, huh? The scary part:  Those bees were mad. Aaaangry. Very irritated.  Hearing about a 1000 angry bees in your home is a little unnerving.



As soon as I brought them in, I put down some newspaper and sprayed them with some sugar water.  They immediately calmed down. Holy crap! It worked!

It was go time.

I suited up with my army surplus mechanic’s coveralls.  Sure they were green, and the bees could mistake me for a bear, or a bear shaped object and sting me to death. I’d take my chances. I put on my pith helmet and the bee veil and gloves.

Game time.

I put on my big boy pants, swallowed my nervousness and grabbed the bees.  I ignored the book, went straight from memory. Pulled the queen out, checked to make sure she was good (she was) and then pinned her to the first bar. The first rush of bees when I pulled the queen and feeding can…..uh…..*gulp*. Since there’s a giant mound of bees, the sugar spray really only gets on the outside of the screen. The bees on the inside were pretty excited.

Gathered my wits, installed the bees….uh….and I left the feeder inside. D’OH!

Ran inside with no bees trailing and got the feeder. None of the bees were really in attack mode. I didn’t get stung, I think they were more curious than anything. Pretty interesting.

So I’m also supposed to start a bee log.

So here goes:

Day 1.

No comb (obviously)
Refilled feeder once, they had emptied completely after installation while I was at work
Weather: 80 degrees, up to 90 during the day on the day of install.
Blooming: Only noticed dewberry bush in the backyard blooming. All front yard quit blooming about a week and a half ago (during one of the cold snaps) Fruit trees in neighbors yard aren’t doing anything yet.
Combs: None
What is in the Combs?: N/A
Swarming?: N/A
Queen Issues: None, queen healthy, removed cork, they should be eating away.
Celebratory Beer after massive adrenaline rush from installation of bees: Revolver Blood and Honey



“Radio is the theater of the mind; television is the theater of the mindless” Steve Allen

Just got back and cracked a Revolver Blood and Honey, mildy erasing any gains. But damn it’s good.

Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk.

Step. Step. Step. Step.
My step count has increased, no longer confined to a daily 10k, my goal became the five mile mark which roughly ends up being about 11,610 of my steps.

Hooking a left, heading east down a street that I only recently discovered that it did not have a streetlight. My street is a network of streets that have only one streetlight per block. Somehow there should be more, but we’re not affluent enough to justify it.

Heading south into the light industrial park, the rigs line up waiting to unload. With no sidewalks and rigs lining both sides of the road, my walking space is compressed, and I find myself ready to dive under a trailer should an approaching car round the curve.

Back west again, I cross the main road, past some more light industrial past the three story “Apartment Homes” with sagging fences and trash strewn around. Actually that’s a lot of my city, there’s a lot of trash. Now I understand why people think it’s a dirty city, and it kind of is I suppose. It’s a city stuck between two bigger cities that overexpanded leaving a lot of empty lots open ….. that collect trash.

Past the second three story “Apartment Homes”. These are nicer. The security fences are straight up and down vertical, there’s a dog park and a path that winds around the perimeter. I’m still outside the fence though. My ex and daughter lived there for a spell, so I know what the insides are like, nice, but not super nice.

Doglegged it north again, past the empty field and the also empty call center that Chase used to employ a few hundred collections agents.

South again, I change direction after I see some youths (“yutes”) coming at me from the north. Less intimidation, I’m my own man when it comes to walking. If I want to go south….damn it, I go south.

Loop back East again, behind the car dealership where they’re blasting music and the sales force is goofing around in the lot. The mechanics are calling it a day and walking out with me. In a feat to impress me (I think) one of them smokes his mustang’s tires which leaves a huge cloud near the dealership. There’s another field, except it’s got cars lined up in it. Rows and rows of new cars in this field. I quick counted around 20 chargers. I wonder who watches that field at night?

Because of the winding road, I’m more or less back at the apartments. I head East, past the barber shop that I occasionally go to. He’s got a small farm, moved there before any subdivisions had been created around him. His plots of land were surrounded but he didn’t give up. I don’t go there much, but it’s a timing thing rather than any lack of ability.

In I go to the local Shell. I’m palest of pale and I get the feeling that everyone scopes me out when I walk in, but my shoulders are square and I’m standing up straight. I buy my gatorade and walk out, back into the neighborhood.

When I first started walking, I realized how little people walk any more. My city is not necessarily “dangerous” although for some reason it has that repuatation.  The people that I walk by are just as wary of me as I am of them. A nod of the head, a “hey”, and we move on out of each others lives.

I need a dog to walk with me.


“Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after.” Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Aww, geez. Saturday morning in the local Honda dealership waiting area.

My poor car has been drifting left, flashing my check engine light, and indicating some weird tire wear so it was time to bring it in.

People getting their cars repaired are never in the best of moods. It doesn’t help that the ginormous flat screen TV is broadcasting a news channel that keeps talking about MH370. Over and over, nothing new, useless analysis, droning……zzzzzzz. I’m looking at the author Steven Pinker. I can’t believe his hair, it’s pretty insane.

Tune in to KNON 89.3 FM Dallas (or online at KNON.org) on Tuesdays at 8pm, you might catch me on Rockabilly Revue. They haven’t gotten tired of me yet.


“I am a Marxist… of the Groucho tendency.”

From zero to sixty (more like zero to forty-ish,) all of a sudden there’s a lot going on.

Since making a firm decision to stick with my house (through thick and thin, underwater and above) I’ve committed to a few things that I’ve been holding off of.

My house got new windows. Exciting, I know.

More interestingly, there’s a beehive in route from Waco. There’s also a chance I’ll get a collie.

Lastly, I’m a radio superstar. Just kidding. I’m now on the radio every other Tuesday on Rockabilly Revue.

I can definitely recall playing sick one day in my youth (pre NZ) sitting out in the sun on the back patio on a stool listening to the radio. I thought to myself, “Hey, I wish I could do this for a living”.

Well, I don’t have the sun, aaaand I don’t get paid, aaaaand I’m not sitting on a patio, but I get to be a DJ! Or more succinctly, I guess I get to be a “radio personality”.

I’ve clearly marked myself as non-DJ because I don’t have a rig, or a huge rack of CD’s (well, they’re all at home). But it’s fun. Listen! And pledge during pledge drive!




“You can make a new friend but you can’t make an old one.” ~ Tom Bodett

One of the problems I think with limiting yourself to calling it a mid-life crisis is no one can define how long they’ll actually live. So, with that in mind, if we start freaking out and acting oddly at 60, does that mean we’ll live to a ripe old age of 120?

I find myself debating again on the question, “Am I a dog person, or a cat person?”

My father proclaimed to be a dog person, and my mother is a cat person.

I have cats, but want a dog. This time, I think I’ve learned a lesson or two – I”m trying to pick a breed that’s a little less aggressive toward cats – Collies.

Never in my life have I ever thought about Collies – I always imagined myself will a Bull Terrier, or a German Shepherd or possibly a Scottish Terrier (since there seems to be something about them with our family).  Never a Collie.

I’ve talked with one of my dog trainer friends and her first comment was “What? Collies are crazy!” and my other friend who was nearby said, “Yeah, those dogs are nuts!”. A lot of evidence proves otherwise, I’m just not sure if involving myself with a herding dog is the wisest move right now.

I’ve been sick for the last week or so, it may be the roving plague, but it also prompted me to go onto a drinking hiatus.

I had a shot of some King Cake Vodka for Fat Tuesday but other than that my liver has been spared.



“Nothing is as obnoxious as other people’s luck.” F. Scott Fitzgerald

First world problem for today: My Roku keeps freezing.

Moving on…..

We made it out last Saturday night and caught one of my favorite comics – Jake Johannsen. I don’t remember how I saw one of his first specials, since it would have been HBO and I’m pretty positive that I’ve never ever had HBO. Based on the timeframe, this was definitely pre-internet, but miraculously (of course) it’s a free-for-all on YouTube.

Of course, I was quickly reminded that my laugh gets louder and louder. It happens, the more I drink especially, I get loud. LOUD. Apparently it’s charming in a certain way; I was told that the performer onstage generally focuses on the “loud laughter” since it’s obvious that the loud guy is enjoying himself.

Fortunately, it was kind of a last minute thing. The other weird thing about the internet and comics is you can accidentally see entire routines online before you end up seeing them in person.

Either way, Jake puts on a great show. Check him at JakeThis.com


“Buy a pup and your money will buy love unflinching.” Rudyard Kipling


I’ve apparently misremembered where the above dog came from, but it did live at our house in my early youth. I’m also the only one who apparently was aware that our grandfather or great grandfather worked at a dog kennel in Long Island and raised dogs. Since I’m unclear on the whole dog thing, it’s possible that it was not only Scottish Terriers. Maybe that’s just a local family thing rather than a long term family thing.

My father had definitely had a conversation with me about it – but I can’t confirm. Need to check some of the paperwork that he left behind.

This would be less interesting for me if I wasn’t currently jonesing for a dog….again. Having learned a few lessons with Jax, I feel like I’m almost ready to try again……with a dog more suitable for a cat household.

My dad always said he was more of a dog person than a cat person. My house was always primarily cat dominated, but we had a few pups here and there. I don’t know how we ended up getting them, but we certainly weren’t good at taking care of them.

Lessons learned.

I’m actually trying to talk myself into getting a Collie. My dog-smart friends all said, “What? Collies are crazy!”. They then changed their tune after my stories about how Jax behaved.

My work schedule isn’t super puppy-friendly.

I guess we’ll see.


“Never yawn in front of a lady.” Frank Sinatra









“My body is a temple where junk food goes to worship”


One of my weaknesses. Fruit Stripe Bubblegum.

Generally my whole pack gets used up in about an hour, stuffing each unusually flavored stick into my mouth in an effort to absorb as much junky goodness as my mouth can handle.

In my childhood, I might have kept it a bit longer, but my jaw gets tired (and sore) after about 15 minutes. This is good, because Fruit Stripe is notorious for the quick loss of flavor.

If it didn’t remind me so much of Fruity Pebbles in gum form, I probably wouldn’t ever buy it – but occasionally the nostalgic neurons start firing up at the sight of the psychoholic wrapper.



“The point, as Marx saw it, is that dreams never come true.” Hannah Arend



Lovin’ it.

It sounded like two dogs wrestling in my attic. And a lot of thumping and scratching. There’s a few wild guesses. It’s either raccoon or opossum (or both).


There’s no wait time, the team will be here tomorrow to scope out the attic. It’s one of those things where I get settled in, things are calm….then *pop*.

Two steps forward, two steps back.

I guess the worst part is they’re about to be tearing up my street for 6-8 weeks. That means I can’t trap the 6 or 7 cats I have in my yard either since animal control won’t be able to get in.



I have a B- blood type. I've never slept in an airport bathroom. I eat ice cream rather than lick it. I've never had head lice. Science museums are fun.

View Full Profile →

Bands I Dig