Ever since I got my office phone number back in August, I’ve been receiving strange phone calls from people wanting to schedule appointments to get some — dentures.

Uppers, lowers, even partial plates — I’ve fielded calls on ‘em all.  At first, I thought it was just a couple of octogenarians who were misreading the number from the yellow pages, but the calls kept coming.  Then it hit me:  1-800-DENTURE.

My office number is 336-8873.  That spells “denture.” Of course, mine is not an 800- number, but it sure explains a lot.  Now, I just tell the poor toothless folks to try again, using the proper prefix.  I guess I’m just glad they’re not asking me for diet pills.  Those calls might get me fired.

The dogs are unhappy about going out in this weather, and BJ and I have hunkered down as much as possible as well. I don’t think the furnace has quit running since Tuesday.

Remind me about how much I don’t like frostbite this summer when I’m complaining about the opressive heat, OK?

I had Bird on my shoulder, showing him his reflection in the mirror in the hallway.  He always chirps and clucks at it, and sometimes he gets pretty animated.  But he pulled off a first last night.

He caught sight of the cigarette pack in my shirt pocket and immediately flipped himself completely upside down, grabbed hold of one of the filters, and pulled the cigarette out in a single, smooth motion, holding it provocatively in his beak.  What’s more, he refused to give it back, scurrying down to the middle of my back.  When he did return to my shoulder, he grabbed the cigarette in his claw and waved it at BJ.  Then he tore it to shreds.

I’m not really sure if he was saying “quit smoking” or “gimme a light,” but I do know it was really funny.  And now I make sure to keep the smokes well hidden whenever Bird comes out to play.

First, my beloved Mountaineers gave me a lovely Christmas present (even better than silk ties for a businessman!) with their win over the North Carolina Tarheels Saturday, 31-30, in the Meineke Car Care Bowl.  My nerves were pretty much shot by the time it ended, but I was grinning ear to ear.  Congrats, too, to Pat White, the first college football quarterback EVER to start and win four bowl games.  We’ll miss you, Number Five.

Then there was NFL Sunday.  My Eagles laid a giant egg last week when they lost to Washington, so I figured making the playoffs was out of the question.  Still, as a Philly fan, I’m contractually obligated to hate the Dallas Cowboys, and it was our chance to keep them home for the New Year, too.

The season finale was a late afternoon game, and by the time it started, the unthinkable had happened.  The Bears lost — no big surprise there — but so too did Tampa Bay!  To the Raiders!  At HOME!!!  Are you kidding me!?

Not only did the Birds send the Cowchips packing, but they also have a date next Sunday in Minnesota!  Happy New Year!  Go Eagles!!!

Last Christmas was horrible.  Between my shattered pelvis and BJ’s surgically altered shoulder, neither of us was working, so income was, well, pretty much non-existant.  We both tried to pretend it didn’t matter, but December 25, 2007 was pretty depressing.

We still didn’t go overboard, but at least I had reason to get out the wrapping paper this year.  Seeing frinds and family members smile is such a good feeling.

I have my eye on some really nice Swiss Army luggage I’m sure will go on sale soon.  I’m thinking we might actually plan a real vacation this summer.  Sweet.

First, the best:  Christmas was wonderful.  BJ and I had a great holiday.  The weather was warm enough that all the wet stuff fell  as rain, so travel wasn’t a problem.  The quartet’s Christmas program was extremely well received.  None of the gifts had to be returned.

As for the worst, we’re both really sick.  BJ pretty much just wants to be left alone to sleep, but I demand attention.  Think a cross between Mommy and one of Pharoh’s slaves.  Obviously, that’s not happening.

Also, the Jeep’s overheating issues continue.  Marisa’s son Chris thinks it’s probably my water pump, and he’s promised to take a look at it for me.  That young man has a real small business opportunity with his ability to fix cars.  I hope he’s right.

Anyway, I wish all of you the very best the season has to offer.  Just don’t breathe on me.

One thing about teaching at the college that’s very different from full-time radio is the schedule.

I turned in final grades this weekend, and now, I’m off until classes resume on January 12.  Since my last final exam was on Friday, that’s an entire month off.

It’ll really be different come summertime when I’m off for three full months, but I’m used to having to work a half day on Christmas Eve and returning bright and early on the 26th.  So this newfound down time is nice.  I’ll probably be good and bored before mid-January, but right now, it’s sweet not having to worry about finding time for holiday baking, shopping, and getting some much-needed rest.

We were coming home from a performance last night, and it was mighty cold.  Our area had seen some off-and-on snoew throughout the day on Saturday, and the roads were a sheet of ice.  But by Sunday, the roads weer better.  It was just cold and windy.

The heater in the Jeep was blowing first sort of warm air, then cold air.  And then the engine temperature gauge went nuts.

Our trip home last night consisted of I-don’t-know-how-many pullovers to allow the engine to cool down while BJ and I sat in the cold.  Today, we took it to our mechanic.

Kevin changed the thermostat, flushed the system, checked all the hoses for leaks, inspected the radiator — and probably did a lot more stuff I missed.  In all, he and his helper Joe worked on the Jeep for about three and a half hours.  The gunk they flushed out looked like really strong coffee with not enough creme.  Or maybe baby poop.  Or a digital image of a lung full of mesothelioma.  It was really disgusting, and it spayed out everywhere.

When Joe took the Jeep out for a test drive after the brownish-orange goo was replaced with something more the color of antifreeze, the temperature gauge shot up on him after less than a mile.  Despite a new thermostat, a flush and fill, about four gallons of antifreeze, and a good seven hours labor between them, Kevin wouldn’t let me pay him for anything.  He was afraid the head was cracked.  So BJ and I decided to drive it home, overheated or no.

We hadn’t gone half a mile when the idiot light went out, the temperature gauge returned to normal, and the heat was on.  Maybe the little baby fixed itself. Or maybe it just wanted to scare us.  Either way,  I’ll find out tomorrow when I start it up again.

I really like my little old HP.  It’s pre-Vista, so I don’t have any of  those issues, but it’s also been carrying the load for me with all my home computing needs for quite awhile.

The MacBook Pro I have at work is pretty awesome, but to tell you the truth, I’m still not all that comfortable with the different terminology and differences in navigation.  For example, when I look to close a window, my eyes go automatically to the upper right of the screen.  The Mac requires me to shift my gaze to the left.  And so it goes.

Anyway, the HP is beginning to show these horizontal white lines that flicker all the way across the monitor screen.  It’s beginning to make me nervous because I’ve become so right button dependent that I tend to use the PC whenever possible.  I hope it’s not dying.

Maybe the poor baby just needs a vacation.  Any ideas on where I can pick up a laptop-sized sleep number bed?

We had some friends in for the Thanksgiving weekend, and it was great hosting them.  BJ and I began getting the spread together with making homemade noodles on Tuesday, the great pie baking marathon on Wednesday, and of course, the turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, cole slaw, and all the rest Thursday morning.  Everyhting turned out perfectly.  One more bite, and there would have been little Tammie bits all over the walls after I exploded.  Grazing is a wonderful thing.  We had leftovers all day and all night.  I was beginning to think about selling my services to a cattle supplies dealer.

We were a little concerned that perhaps we would have to cancel our plans.  On Tuesday, our friends’ van was hit broadside when somebody ran a stop sign.  One of them has some deep bruises to the shoulder and elbow; the other has a broken pinky and some mighty tender ribs.  It could have been a lot worse, but their van was totalled.  It really made us all stop and think about just how much we all have to be thankful for, though.  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.