I Like A Fresh Bowl

The toilet in my hotel room (Clarion Riverside, Rochester, NY) flushes itself mysteriously about every 45 minutes.

At first, I thought it was just me hearing the plumbing from nearby rooms. But, no. It actually flushes itself. I know this because I was just sitting there when it happened. There I am, taking a break from my Geek Conference, and reading about Frances Mayes' first trip to Africa and...WHOOSH.

I am reminded of Peter MacNicol's character on Ally McBeal. John Cage had a remote that controlled one of the toilets in their famous unisex bathroom. I like a fresh bowl, he would say. And....whoosh.

This is an analog toilet. No fancy motion censors. Just a plain old handle; American Standard brand. And, being the crafty sort, I even took off the top to see if there were after-market parts somewhere in the tank. Nope.

What we have here, people, is your average run-of-the-mill toilet ghost. I should maybe introduce him to the dead Indian who lives in the closet of the guest bedroom at my folks' house. He is an electronics fiend who enjoys turning on lights in the middle of the night. Between them, they could keep an entire family awake.

uh oh. hotdog.

Anna tells me that when she is bored at work, she comes here looking for updates.

This is Ben. He's special. He also belongs to Anna.



Anna has a habit of picking special men to share her life with.

random picture of the week

Taken at a farm stand that I pass on my way into work.

The Luck of the Polish

Some might say I have incredible luck.

I've taken several nasty spills off horses and always managed to walk (or limp, anyway) away. I've been kicked in the jaw by a pony and lived to tell the tale. Two or three car accidents--never anything serious. And I always seem to talk my way out of speeding tickets with nothing but sheer honesty. Yes, officer, I do know how fast I was going. Sorry about that.

What I do not have, though, is the sort of luck that brings lotteries or other fabulous prizes. Take, for example, this weekend.

I was in Virginia for the wedding of an old friend. We had a late-night dinner at McDonald's one evening and I peeled off the stickers on my cup to reveal the Boardwalk piece from their yearly Monopoly game. Whatever I said. It's not like anyone ever wins these things. There's probably one Park Place on the entire planet.

Yesterday, I was running late for work and starving, so I went through the local drivethru. Park Place. On my hashbrowns.

PARK. PLACE.

In combination, those pieces are worth a cool million*.

Do you know who I am? I am Dumb Uncle Tony, who set sacks of wet flour on the ovens in the family bakery and burned half of Great Bend New York to the ground circa 1900, that's who I am. Well. His great-grand daughter, anyway.

One. Million. Dollars.

*Payable over twenty years. Must be eighteen to play. Taxes applicable. This offer is not valid in Illinois, Kurzikstan, or South Dakota.

I have no words.

So here's a picture instead--snapped this morning on my way to get tea.

with #2, you get eggroll