I haven’t updated my voicemail message since I first set up my first iPhone.  I assume I mentioned my name in my voicemail message, but I suppose there is a chance I didn’t.  Maybe when I get home from work tonight I’ll check.

Every once in a while I get calls from some one in Florida.  It’s always the same number and there is always a voicemail.  The caller usually starts off the voicemail he leaves me with something like, “Hey Steve”.  It sounds like an older gentleman, but I can’t really say for sure.  The caller also never leaves his name.  These random messages come in bunches.  I have gotten two of them this week.  I think this is the fourth such bunch that I’ve received since first getting that first iPhone however many years ago.

Prior to this batch, the messages have generally been of the “Can you pick me up at the airport?” variety, with the occasional variation being, “I’m at the airport, can you get me?”  I feel bad for the caller, I really do, but when you come right down to it… My name isn’t Steve.  My outgoing voicemail message sounds like me, therefore it is not some Floridian named Steve.  I’ve probably gotten 10 messages from this caller over the years… dontcha think he would have noticed that: 

A:  My name isn’t Steve.
B:  I don’t sound like Steve.
C:  Steve never, ever calls back.

This weeks pair (so far) of messages have been asking Steve how so and so did at the something or other, and asking if they can get together to critique the performance.  I would be glad to talk things over with the guy, but he always calls when I’m at work and have my ringer off, so I never get the calls.  I don’t know what or who needs critiquing, but I’ll help out any way I can.

First we lost John Lord.  Then yesterday we lost Johnny Pesky.

Now today we’ve lost Ron Palillo.

Who is Ron Palillo?

Forgive me for the typecasting, but he was Arnold Horshack on Welcome Back Kotter.

Reruns after school on channel 56.  This guy made a very young redhead named Rob laugh his ass off.

Rest in Peace.

Last night at about 10:00pm it happened again.  Jen and I were in our room reading and being flaky after a long day and BANG!  Just like Sunday night.

I went outside again to look around and the whole neighborhood was out in the street.  This time there was evidence discovered:

Where was that picture taken?  Three feet beyond the edge of my driveway, that’s where.  The police were called.  The officer was polite, but seeing as no one saw anything there isn’t much that old Johnny Law can do.  We’ll probably get an extra patrol car drive by or two for a few nights, but probably not much more than that.

I met many of my neighbors for the first time as we speculated wildly on who the perpetrators are and how they got there and how they got away without being seen.  I did not share my theory on alien flying saucers or buzzing Air Force jets, but I did throw out a someone-probably-came-out-of-the-woods idea.  It was met with acceptance.  I felt like part of the group.

We’ll see if it happens again tonight.  I’m guessing that a few of us will be peeking out the front windows round about bed time.  Maybe we should make brownies tonight in case it does happen and we end up with a block party.  That could be fun.

I stole this image from the Red Sox Facebook page. I hope they will forgive me.

Rest in Peace, Johnny Pesky.

Something is fishy about that sculpture.

Get it?

Last night between 11pm and 12am I heard a BOOOM outside of the house.  It was loud enough to make me jump out of bed.  It rattled the windows a little too.  Jen and the kids slept through it.  It scared the hell out of me.  I was pretty sure immediately that it was outside, so I didn’t expect to find the kitchen blown to bits or anything like that.  I went through the upstairs of the house and verified that all was well, then I looked outside.

Nothing.

One of the neighbors heard it too and he was out in the street looking around.  I went out too.  Nothing.  No sign of anything that might have blown up.  It had sounded like it was really close to the house, so I can’t imagine that it was out on the highway.  I had half expected to look out the window and see one of our cars on fire in the driveway.

Nope, nothing.

So what could it have been?  I’ve come up with a few possibilities:

1)  An F-15 hit mach 1 while buzzing our street.
2) Aliens threw their flying saucer into warp zillion after having a deep conversation with the squirrels behind our house.
3) A gang war related drive by shooting that included a howitzer and some piss poor aim.
4) Mass hipnosis

Anyone have any other possibilities?

A couple of weeks ago my step son asked if we could have a weekend where he spends some special together time with me on one day, and with his mom the next.  At the same time, my step daughter spends special together time with her mom on the first day, and with me on the second day.

Yesterday the love of my life and her daughter went to the mall and lunch together while my step son and I buried ourselves in a mountain of baseball cards, and a Harry Potter movie.  Today we deviated from the plan a little and all went to a movie and lunch together.  After that, mom and son stayed upstairs and watched another Harry Potter movie while step daughter and I went down cellar and watched The AristoCats.

It’s simple, it’s a little goofy, and it’s great.  Sometimes a little quiet quality time is just what you need.