Florida reconsiders being called “The Sunshine State!” (With Bloopers!)

Isn’t the best part of any movie The Blooper Reel? While on vacation in Marco Island, Florida, to enjoy a sunny getaway, I thought it would be fun to film a weather report. Richard didn’t want to throw water in my face, dropped the plastic cup, and took some great shots of his thumb.

At the end of the video, other videos will pop up onto the screen. If you’d like to replay my video, just go to the lower left side of the video screen and click the circle with the arrow.

A huge shout out to BigNate84 (https://www.youtube.com/user/BigNate84)! Your video tutorial,”How to Add Closed Captions to a YouTube Video” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9K4WJs94FfY) was easy to follow and taught me everything I needed to learn, and, by the way, you’re hilarious. By following your directions, I was easily able to add closed captioning to my video. Thank you! You rule!


The Roomba Strikes Back

A few days ago, on a shelf far, far away, I battled my height in an effort to obtain a rug. What I didn’t know was that an evil menace was hiding on top of it, waiting to strike.

I reached up carefully, so as not to cut off my hand’s circulation, and was excited that I was able to begin pulling it down.

And that’s when it happened: I was attacked by a Killer Roomba.

12 years earlier, when it was no longer able to detect and eat even one strand of dog hair, we’d placed The Killer Roomba on the shelf of crap we no longer need, instead of getting rid of it. Because I am vertically challenged, I didn’t see the Roomba lurking on top of the rug.

Recently, I discovered and purchased Bob, or, as he’s known by his full name, the bObsweep PetHair Robotic Vacuum. Bob is awesome.

Even after 12 years spent in hibernation mode, the Roomba must have sensed there was a new droid in town. I thought I heard Bob say, “It’s a trap!” But, realized Bob can’t speak. Or can he?

Using its last ounce of evil power, the disgruntled Killer Roomba propelled itself from the shelf of crap. With the strength of a prizefighter it smacked my right jaw, nearly knocking me out.

Immediately I felt pain in my jaw, and an odd zing traveling from my brain to my lower back causing a severe headache, and excruciating pain in my lower back.

Of course I was home alone, so the first thing I did was cry like a girl, which I am, so I’m allowed.

Then, as usual, I performed The Injury Assessment Body Scan. It’s kind of like “The Force” for non-Jedi.

Only professional, perpetual klutzes possess its ability to go deep within oneself to perform a mental x-ray, if you will, to determine if said injury requires immediate attention, can wait exactly three hours, overnight, or requires no medical attention at all. It’s a gift that comes from years of practice, and I’m a pro.

After the attack, all I wanted to do was go to sleep, but because of the zing extravaganza that had simultaneously traveled up and down my spinal cord, I thought it best to stay awake.

We were going out for dinner that night to celebrate Veronica’s birthday, and I was not going to miss it due to a Killer Roomba with a grudge.

Thankfully, the Injury Assessment Body Scan was negative. I was able to move my jaw, the headache went away with a couple of Tylenol, and a hot bath in Epsom Salts cured the back pain.

I also iced both sides of my face because, even though the right side of my face took the brunt of the hit, the left side of my jaw hurt, too. The last thing I wanted was to be out for dinner with one side of my face looking like a chipmunk storing food for the winter.

I felt fine. Until the next day, which was New Year’s Eve morning. The Injury Assessment Body Scan only works at the time of the incident. It cannot predict how one will feel the next morning, but scientists are working on it.

My face didn’t hurt (but it’s killing you, ha, ha, ha.) I could barely make it up or down the stairs, or walk without whimpering. Richard had to go to work, but before he left he emptied and loaded the dishwasher, let the dogs out and fed them, and made sure I was as comfortable as I could be. His nice behavior was more frightening than the injury.

Lucas had to leave for work, too. With Mom still at Whitehall recovering from a fall requiring hip surgery and a cast for a broken wrist, I knew I couldn’t call her if I needed help, but, I’m lucky to have a sister who would drop anything for me, and a network of the best friends a person could ask for.

But, I didn’t need to call anyone. One of the best things about having kids who have moved out but still surprise you by coming over to do laundry, is that Veronica showed up at 8:00 A.M. One of our family’s orthopedic doctors could see me, so she offered to drive me. I will let you know when the ribbon cutting ceremony takes place for the Chase/Korengold wing of their office.

Apparently, I had sprained my back in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid getting bitch-slapped by the Roomba. The doctor prescribed non-drowsy, long-acting, but slow-releasing muscle relaxers that eventually kicked in. After spending most of the day stooped over like 900 year-old Yoda, I was able to reach a full-standing position.

Because of the pain, I haven’t been able to go to yoga classes, or visit Mom at Whitehall. The most exciting thing I did this past week was spend a day polishing my nails. Yes, it took an entire day.

We had to miss a very groovy New Year’s Eve party, so we rang in 2016 by watching The Chicago Blackhawks beat the Colorado Avalanche in overtime.

The Killer Roomba’s sinister plan worked, but nearly a week later my back feels much better. The only residual issue is I keep having dreams of Ewoks dancing in my head, and nightmares of Jar Jar Binks just being Jar Jar Binks.


The first time I had Shingles, I noticed a splotchy thing on the right side of my waistline. I had no idea what it was because I’d never seen a barnacle like it on my body before, and my body has had its share of barnacles.

So, I took myself, and my new barnacle, to the doctor who told me I had Shingles, or, if you want to get technical, Herpes Zoster. Who wouldn’t want that? I went on seven days of anti-viral medication, and was fine within a few days.

My sister, Beth, had contracted Herpes Zoster at the same time, and we hadn’t seen each other for weeks. Strange, but, anything is possible when it comes to us. Look up weird in the dictionary, and you’ll find our picture.leslie&beth weird

My current bout of Shingles didn’t start out looking like the first. I had no idea what I’d sprouted this time, but it wasn’t pretty. So, to spare you the unappetizing details, I’ve supplanted any words pertaining to it with words that will hopefully evoke pleasant thoughts, and highlighted them in bold print. I don’t want to cause you nightmares, or the need to seek therapy.

puppy screen shot

I woke up on a Friday morning over a month ago with a puppy on the left side of my waist. Since I had an appointment for a re-check with my allergist* that day, who was doctor #1 (out of 4) in this entire extravaganza, I thought I’d ask her what she thought of my new adorable fluffy friend. She didn’t find it cute at all and prescribed ten days of antibiotics.

unicorn cartoon

I had a regular check-up with doctor #2, my rheumatologist, the following Monday, so I decided to wait to start the antibiotics. I wanted her opinion, but over the weekend, the puppy developed a rash that looked like a bullseye, so I was worried I had been licked by a unicorn at some point while frolicking outside with my dogs.

Doctor #2 tested me for Lemon Drop Disease, and told me to take the antibiotics. A few days later she called to tell me I did not have the disease and had probably not been licked by a unicorn.

After finishing the medicine, I still felt like hot apple pie a la mode. Mom and I were taking an overnight road trip to Indy, so I saw my Internist, doctor #3, a few days before we left, who prescribed more antibiotics. Nothing was going to stop me from going on this trip, even though I felt like birthday cake, and the cute little puppy felt like it was teething on my mid-section.

We got to spend time with Terry, and attend the preview party we’d been invited to of Mark Lee’s photo exhibit “A Visual Journey: From AIDS to Marriage Equality,”** which featured my brother, Paul Chase, as one of five people being honored for their dedication to making a difference in the LGBT community.

Barbie glam camper

A few days later, I noticed an entire litter of puppies next to the original puppy lounging by the pool of the Barbie Glam Camper parked on my left side. Plus, I was beginning to feel even worse, like I’d eaten too much chocolate-covered, cotton candy-flavored funnel cake.

Doctor #4 confirmed my suspicion that I had Shingles and put me on anti-viral and nerve-pain medications. I asked if I was contagious, and he said, “Only to people who haven’t had chicken pox or the Shingles vaccine, babies, pregnant women, and elderly people.” Was that all?

I felt like a walking Petri dish of Godiva Chocolate.

shingles 2

I had to go to Walgreens to pick up the medicine. I could have used the drive-thru, but I desperately needed supplies, such as gauze pads, Band-Aid paper tape, two bags of candy corn, and the latest copy of “Vogue” magazine.

As soon as I walked into Walgreens, I saw something better than candy corn, and, yes, even “Vogue”: Fleece-lined, stretchy, elastic-waist leggings, (2 for $12!) in “One Size Fits Most!” Due to the location of the puppies, wearing pants had been out of the question for days, except when the plumber came to fix the sink.

Otherwise, I just walked around with a blanket tied around my upper body, held in place with a stylish pin.

I knew once I got home from Walgreens, I would not be leaving the house until this best trip to Disneyland ever was over. It was going to be nice to have a wardrobe choice, though: leggings or the blanket.

The anti-viral medicine began working overnight, but made me loopier than usual. In fact, Richard found a small bottle of apple juice I must have left in the linen closet when getting a towel. I guess opening the linen closet is considered operating heavy machinery.

Today, I will take my last three doses of anti-Herpes Zoster medication and, since my contagion-o-meter should be “normal,” (I know, I had to laugh at using the word “normal” to describe myself, too,) I will be free to join life in public again tomorrow!

I’ve slept and been out of touch with the world for at least the past week. I wonder if anything crazy has happened, like the Cubs are in the playoffs, or Donald Trump might host SNL on November 7th. Oh, Leslie. Don’t be ridiculous!

*Please refer to my post ‘Bad Breath”


Article about Mark Lee’s photo exhibit:

** http://www.nuvo.net/indianapolis/indys-lgbt-history/Content?oid=3526420

Puppy photo courtesy:


Barbie Glam Camper photo courtesy: ebay.com

Unicorn cartoon courtesy: stressfreenyc.wordpress.com