While at work, I log on to Blogstream for a few laughs during my break. There are always some good jokes to be found.

Some blogs, however, are more serious. Someone may be writing about what happened to them as a child, or what is currently going on in their adult life.

Some people write about things they enjoy. It could be about a certain book or movie. It could be about a favorite musical performer or musical group. Why, it can even be about someone's least favorite song, or least favorite sports team.

Don't worry. I am not going to trash your favorite team. I better not find anyone trashing the Tribe, though! Curses as I shake fists in the air like a favorite blogger would.

In the past two days, I have come across two blogs advertising businesses. I can understand if you have been writing a blog and mention what you do for a living. I can understand if you post your photography on your blog, especially if you do that for a living or for a hobby.

But these two blogs were nothing but advertisements written by someone to promote their business. One was for real estate. If I want to buy real estate, I will buy the Sunday paper which has a "Homes" section in it, thank you very much.

I hate to be critical about a blog,but I just feel disappointed. Like when I go to a movie theater to watch a movie and I have to sit through a commercial. It just seems like that advertisement does not belong there.

A friend of mine e-mailed me this photo of an albino peacock. She described the peacock as a "giant snowflake".

I have seen albino creatures before, but nothing like this.

What do you think of it?

Mujibar is unemployed and looking for work. He goes into the personnel office and fills out an application for employment.

The personnel manager looks at his application and goes over his qualifications.

"Before we can hire you, you must take a test.", the personnel manager tells Mujibar.

The personnel manager then tells Mujibar, "You must make a sentence using the words Yellow, Pink, and Green."

Mujibar thinks about this for a moment, then responds:

"The telephone goes Green, Green, Green, and I Pink it up and say 'Yellow, this is Mujibar.'"

Mujibar now works as a technician at a call center for computer problems.

No doubt you have spoken to him.

In the past, I have always looked forward to the NFL Draft like a child waiting for Christmas. On Draft Saturday, I would usually listen to the college draft while doing housework around the apartment. As long as previous first round selections lasted, my apartment would usually be quite clean by the time the first round ended.

When my team, the Cleveland Browns, were ready to announce their selection, any housework came to an immediate stop. Like that child by the Christmas tree reaching for that gift in excitement, the card would reach the podium. I would grab my gift and began to tear the paper off my present like a lion tears apart its prey as the commissioner of the NFL reads the card.

"With the sixth selection in the NFL Draft, the Cleveland Browns draft at tight end, from the University of Miami, Kellen Winslow, Jr."

And I am looking at that open present the way a person does when they open their gift and hope the person who bought them that present just happened to keep the receipt.

"Kell...Wins...., I didn't want that %&^*$#+@!"

I am wanting to exchange my gift right away. Receipt or no receipt.

"And you traded a second round pick to move up one spot to get that *%&^$#)@+! I would have taken a pair of socks or a tie instead of this....."

Since then, I do not get that excited about the draft. I still enjoy reading about the college players available, mock drafts, and what the teams think about particular players.

This year, I spent time with my friend Ron and his lady friend. A nice, quiet weekend. Sitting out by the campfire at night, and taking the boat out on the river during the day.

The picture from my last blog is a picture I took of the St. Johns River as we made our way down the water that afternoon. It is peaceful and relaxing as we sail along at a slow speed on Ron's pontoon boat. We are in no hurry, unlike the people that speed by on their rum runners and cigarette boats. Just slow down in the no wake zone is all we ask.

"Meanwhile, have another beer. What are we going to do with all of these jerks anyway, besides, all of our friends are here."

The NFL Draft can wait. It isn't everyday that you get to spend time with an old friend. I can get online later,or pick up the Sunday paper tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy the company of friends whenever you get the chance. Some things can wait, and some things can't.

I had to leave Ron's place to drive back to Orlando later that Saturday afternoon, and Ron and his friend had errands to do. We said our good byes, and I told him that I would be back in a few weeks.

As for the draft, I eventually caught up with it midway into the first round as I drove through the Ocala National Forest on my way to Interstate 95. As I told someone earlier today, my mock draft went out the window with the first pick of the day.

I really thought that Houston would take Reggie Bush. As for the draft, I really think that the New York Jets and the Green Bay Packers did well. I also think the New England Patriots and the New Orleans Saints did well, along with the Dallas Cowboys and the Arizona Cardinals. As for my Browns, it wasn't anything spectacular. But they did draft in areas where they needed players.

Put it this way. I didn't feel like I wanted to return my gift this time.

Why I need another radio, I don't know. I get this e-mail from my sister, and she is sending me this portable radio that receives shortwave. I have a great portable stereo with a CD player, so why another radio? My sister then tells me that she originally bought the radio for her boyfriend, and because of the area where he lives, he had a problem with the reception. So he decided that he had no use for it. So she decides to send the rejected gift to me. Thanks for thinking about me.

The package arrives on Thursday. I send an e-mail to thank my sister for the radio and that I will take it with me this weekend to my friend's house in Astor. The reception should be good there.

I arrive at my friend's place on Friday afternoon. He is currently out, but he has left a key for me to come in. After I unpack, I decide I will wait for my friend by sitting down with a cold beer and start reading the manual for the radio. The radio is a Grundig Traveller VII, and it is the size of a small transistor radio. Like the ones we use to listen to the AM radio on when we were growing up.

"Now, how do you operate this thing?"

Since the last time I have seen my friend Ron he lived alone. Until now.

My friend Ron finally arrives home. Since the beginning of the year, he has a live in companion. He introduces me to her, and the three of us talk for awhile over a few beers. Then we go to the Blackwater Inn on the St. Johns River for happy hour and dinner. The happy hour buffet is fried fish and hush puppies, and we order buffalo wings. There was no room in the bar upstairs, so we went out onto the deck and had our meal while watching the world go by. Or at least the boaters.

After we paid our check, we went back to Ron's place. He has a fire pit in the backyard, so we gathered some wood and made a fire in the fire pit and put some music on. Oh, and we grabbed a few beers.

Anyone see a pattern here?


I brought the Grundig out and we tried the shortwave band, since the manual recommended that the best time to get reception for shortwave is at night.

We were able to pick up one broadcast on the shortwave. As far as what the announcer was saying, we have no idea. The broadcast was from Deutsche Welle (Germany).

"Es tut mir leid, aber ich kann nur Englisch sprechen."

The next day we took Ron's boat out on the St. Johns River. While he was steering the boat, I tried the shortwave to see if we could pick up any two-way marine communications.

Nothing.

Well, the NFL Draft is starting, I am going to see if I can pick up the AM band and get the sports radio station from Orlando that will be covering the draft.

Nothing.

Well, let's try the FM band. There has to be something we can get on this thing. We were able to receive a few radio stations on the FM band, so we had music to listen to as we floated down the river.

With a cooler of cold beer.

After I got back to Orlando, I tried the radio on the AM/FM bands.
I have picked up more channels, but I have yet to try the shortwave. I will try that later in the evening.

Hopefully, I will not have to learn another language.