If it's not one thing...

I just broke my chair at work.

(I don't know the proper terms for chair parts, so bear with me.)

I had a really nice (when it was new six years ago!) high-back, leather, executive chair (the best chair $79 will buy!) that I had to swap with a different, not-quite-as-good chair because the leather chair wouldn't slide under the desk unless I dropped it down and then it felt like I was squatting to do my work. The lesser chair worked okay because I could adjust the arms independent of the seat. Downside? It didn't have a high back. So no leaning back in the chair with my feet on my desk thinking executive thoughts.

This morning, I was trying to lean back in my chair and it wouldn't lean at all! I got down on the floor and saw that the back of the chair was adjustable and it was adjusted all the way down so the metal thingie was hitting the legs and not letting the chair recline. I unscrewed the big screw thingie and lifted the back waaayyy up. Woot! But then? I screwed the big screw thingie back in, sat down, reclined back and CRACK! The thing that holds the metal thingie on the back broke. Great.

I went down to our big room of storage and found a high-backed, not-leather chair and wheeled it down to my office. Good news? I can slide it under the desk without squatting. Bad news? It squeaks. Every-stinkin'-time I move. Squeak. Squeak.

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In other news...

Guess who the Commander got to meet? George Jefferson! How cool is that? He was singing with the Army bands the other night and the Commander was the official Army representative, complete with VIP seating along with some U.S. Consulate people. Sherman came out and chatted with them before the show and then they got to go backstage after the concert.

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Last, but not least...



Happy Birthday Kendall.

I miss seeing you and James having your smokes every morning when I come around the corner of your building. The morning after the crash, I didn't want to walk around that corner, but I knew that I had to. It was very hard. James was still there. We hugged. And cried. And cried some more.

Little things remind me of you. Kool Super Longs and chickens mostly. I still yell, "TAKE A PICTURE OF MMME!" and crave the Supah Longs when I have a beer.

I had a really hard time with you dying. I didn't want to go to your service. But while I was there, I saw E.B. and Donna in the narthex and E.B. said, "That crazy Kendall." and things changed. That was it in a nutshell. Crazy Kendall. You would go and so something like that. It lightened my heart.

So today, on what would have been your 44th birthday, I wipe the tears from my eyes and say, "Chickens *still* make lousy housepets."