Good morning or good evening, wherever you may be. It is just past 5:30 a.m. in "The City"

Many people ask what love is. I can say, with certainty, that love is having your back go out for the umpteenth time in your more than 45 years together and having your wife make plans to schlep you to the orthopedic walk-in clinic in Muskegon for treatment. She also planned ahead by being sure to pack something to eat during a long wait. Fortunately, we didn't have to make the trip, but just knowing that you have someone who puts your welfare first is the definition of love.

Now you ask yourself, "Self, what could make his back go out for the umpteenth time yesterday?"
The answer is spending one and one-half hours of your life sitting in your office chair, on hold, waiting for a Social Security representative to answer your call. All the while, the canned music is playing some tune akin to the theme from The X-Files, over and over, ad nauseam, as the recorded message tells you, also ad nauseam, to be understanding, they have 50 million people on Social Security to deal with, yada, yada, yada.

Finally, a live person comes on the line and succinctly tells you, in about two minutes, that there is nothing they can tell you about your problem, you must call the IRS!. So, after one and one-half hours of your life, that you will never get back, you are once again in a queue with yet another government agency, albeit one with better music. This hold lasts about 15 minutes and finally, another live person. Two additional five to seven minute holds and you are told that the problem is your tax accountant filled out Schedule "C" incorrectly and an amended form must be filed, yada, yada, yada.

By this point, you are certain that there is no future and your petty concerns are just a minor annoyance to an overworked series of government clerks who have, as you may recall, over 50 million people to deal with, yada, yada, yada.

But enough about my day yesterday. We may still have to visit the Social Security office in Muskegon, which by the way, is closed on Wednesday afternoons and weekends, to see if your problem is a problem after all, yada, yada, yada.

But I've digressed enough. We finally got out of the manse, mailed our holiday cards, made a stop at the bank, and then another stop at the nearby big-box home center for a can of spray paint. In spite of all the half empty cans you have on the shelf in the man-cave, you don't have the right color to paint your resale store table. Sigh. By the time that we made all of our stops, my back was feeling better. Less chair time equals a less painful back. So, for those of you who claim that 67 is the new 57, I've got a message for you, yada, yada, yada.

We have a current temperature of 41° under cloudy-skies. The sun will rise @ 8:12 a.m. and set later @ 5:12 p.m. In between, the latest Small Craft Advisory will expire @ 9:00 a.m. today only to be replaced by a Gale Warning starting @ 10:00 p.m. tonight and lasting until 5:00 a.m. Saturday. Those pesky 35 to 47 knot winds will propel waves on the "Big Lake" to heights that make sailing any vessel a challenge, even for the largest vessel and the most experienced sailors.

Oh, I nearly forgot. For the past several days, work crews have been installing new gas mains at the corner near the manse. Huge holes have been dug, air-hammers have pounded starting @ 8:01 a.m. every day. Last night they worked until after 10:00 p.m. as trucks sat parked across the street with their yellow lights flashing monotonously. You endure until you finally close the blinds and pretend that the workmen who have been on the job since 8:01 a.m. are still able to think cogent thoughts and do accurate and safe work @ 10:00 p.m.

At any rate, I originally got up to let the fur-children out for a 4:00 a.m. duty call. If I want to avoid further back spasms, I am gong to close out this lengthy blog and just say ciao, yada, yada, yada.