Home life

It’s nice to know that after fourteen years of marriage Laurel can still get me breathing heavily in our bedroom. Also, on the stairs leading down from our bedroom…in the living room…and in the guest bedroom way at the other end of the house. Yes, that was quite an encounter between Laurel and me after we torn off the sheets and got all sweaty with a mattress. Next time, though, I’m hoping that we encounter each other on a mattress, rather than on other sides of a mattress. For we have begun the quadrennial (approximately) ritual of finding a better…

It was a big day on the Comments front yesterday. First, I was thrilled to find that Keith contributed the first comment to appear on this new home of HinesSight (on my Paris Hilton posting, accessible in the “Recent Comments” section in the left column). Then, I checked my email and found that on my old weblog I'd received another comment on my American Splendor/I learn to wash lettuce posting. This wasn't quite so thrilling, as the keywords “Laurel Hines,” “exaggeration,” “poetic license,” and “evil eye” leapt to my attention--notably the “Laurel Hines” identifier, she being the owner of the…

King of the world, that’s who I am all right, in my own mind at least (where it counts). For I have replaced a rusted-out leaking drain on our laundry room sink, notwithstanding my normally plumbing-challenged handyman skills. There was something tremendously fulfilling about successfully dismantling the decrepit parts and installing the fresh new parts, adding the dollop of plumber’s putty, tightening the, um, whatever-you-call-its that needed to be tightened, turning on the water, and hearing the water run down the drain with nary a drip. The list of those I’d like to thank for enabling me to achieve this…

Woke up this morning to alarm clock beeping…no reason to set it, except to be up in time by noon to watch Rose Bowl…no, didn’t set it…slumber thoughts slowly awaken: electricity is off, again!...then on, then off, then on, then off…now on, perhaps the Electricity Goddess has heard our prayers…must pray harder…would offer first-born son if had one…will you take a daughter, Goddess? Name is Celeste, lives in North Hollywood (just kidding C.; actually have offered to loan you to Goddess until cold weather is over)…already being blamed by Laurel for this snow event, just like last time: “You were…

It took almost all of 2003, but on December 30—yesterday at 5:00 pm—I found my true love. And the greatest thing about it is that Laurel embraced her also. A threesome! Cool! Also hot, because sparks fly when you touch her in a certain way. Her name? Electricity. Along with tens of thousands of other people in the mid-Willamette valley, we lost our power about 3:00 am early Monday morning. We got it back at 5:00 pm Tuesday afternoon. So we had some 38 hours to ponder how much Electricity does for us, and how under-appreciated she had been in…

This is indeed a sign that our marriage is well into a second decade—when I went into Morlan’s Plumbing last month, ordered a “whisper quiet” Panasonic bathroom exhaust fan, and said, “It’s a Christmas present for my wife.” Strangely, the Morlan employees seemed surprised at this, and even told me that this was the first time they were aware of a ceiling fan being a gift. Well, they don’t know Laurel, and how sensitive she is to loud noises. She carries ear plugs in her purse, and puts them on in a theatre whenever a movie sound track rises above…

A few hours ago I went into the Courthouse Athletic Club’s karate room, where for nine years I used to train with some great guys and gals—and where I still like to work out several times a week, enjoying the wood floor and the memories. When I started to take my shoes off, and put my sweat towel down, I saw a sheet of paper on the counter with Gordon Waite’s photograph, and a caption “In Memoriam.” Gordon was a good karate buddy. He died unexpectedly Thanksgiving morning, at the age of 72. That is just so wrong. And yet,…

I want to reassure those readers who have been anxious about the status of our Prius’ warning light, perhaps suffering through sleepless nights, or engaging in constant prayers to the Higher Hybrid Power on our behalf, that Priey has been returned to health, and we are enjoying the car a lot. As the post below posited, Marcus Aurelius’ advice was well taken, because it turned out that Toyota wasn’t out to drive us crazy by having a “check engine” warning light come on one hour after we bought the car. No, seemingly Toyota is trying to drive many 2004 Prius…

Here’s one way you can help save the Earth: buy our 1997 Honda CRV that will soon (tomorrow) be listed for sale in the Salem Stateman-Journal classifieds. By buying our wonderful SUV, with only 44,000 miles, you will be doing a lot to help us pay for the 2004 Toyota Prius that has arrived in the Port of Portland, and shortly will be delivered to the local Toyota dealer. When this happens, we’ve been told that we have 48 hours to cough up the money to pay for the car, or else it goes to the next person in line…

I haven’t posted anything for almost a week because I’ve spent most of my time camped out in our driveway, looking for the Mini-Cooper with my personalized license plate already on it to arrive from God. By now, I’m almost beginning to think that the comment attached to the posting below may have been tongue-in-cheek! But no!!! I must end that beginning of my thinking!!! My faith in God’s omnibenevolence must not slacken. And it will not. I shall consider that Keith’s comment, though perhaps not objectively factually true, still is, as he says, “a sign from a higher power.”…

It’s been a few weeks now since I engaged in an activity that needs confessing, but which I still can’t bring myself to speak openly about. So please excuse me for speaking indirectly in this posting. I hope you understand how difficult it is for me to talk about this. I mean, I’ve always known that I had a secret passion for it. And now that satellite TV (we subscribe to the DISH network) brings so many channels right into your home, it isn’t necessary to skulk around to view this sort of stuff any more. It’s right there in…

The publisher of HinesSight, namely me, has been contacted by someone, namely my wife, who was prominently mentioned in these pages recently, namely in the last posting. The publisher rashly printed out this post for Laurel’s information and amusement, and discovered that she was more informed than amused. Even though the publisher emphasized that some exaggeration is central to humor (do dogs really talk to bartenders?), my understandable desire to be able to go to sleep tonight without fearing that, sometime during the night, my head or some other important bodily organ will be smashed with a baseball bat by…

Recently a HinesSight reader, who would remain nameless except for my writing “Karen Lord,” asked a question that goes right to the heart of my marital relationship, and deserves answering in some detail. Before we get into this, I should add that Karen is our CPA. And a very good CPA at that. Further, she is probably the only liberal/progressive CPA in the entire United States, a real mark of distinction. So, if you call up Karen, tell her Brian sent you. Recently we referred a new client to her, which means, I hope, that we get a free tax…

Notwithstanding my 30+ years of daily meditation, I still receive some subtle hints that I have not quite attained to the selfless, egoless, Buddha-like nature to which, theoretically, I aspire. Evidence along these lines was received today when I began thinking about the wonderful web site that pops up when you type “weapons of mass destruction” into the Google search engine, and click on “I’m feeling lucky”. Try it, you’ll like it (even if you’re a big Bush fan, this is still a great satire). What this click does, as explained by Google, is that you’re taken directly to the…

It’s a macabre love ritual, this Tour of Homes horror I subject myself to each year. Laurel’s birthday was last Saturday, as it is every summer solstice. I made the traditional poppy seed cake, and I made the traditional butter cream frosting: 2/3 of a stick of butter and a full pound of powdered sugar—I never fully realized what a nutritional nightmare cakes are until I started making Laurel’s birthday offering. It’s the husbandly effort that counts, not the aesthetics of the result, for the cake ended up with a strangely collapsed center, for unknown reasons that I like to…

No matter how your day is going, a good laugh makes it go better. To that end, I highly recommend a web site with my kind of humor—cynical British wit that zeroes in on the follies of male-female relationships. Check out “things my girlfriend and I have argued about.” I rarely read something that makes me laugh out loud, and in fact, made me incapable of reading it to Laurel because I was choked up with laughter. But some of the (numerous) postings on this site did just that. Be sure to click on Margret’s photo. Margret and the author,…