*discomblogulated

Recently I have strayed somewhat from my normal routine and the usual theme of my postings. For the most part this is due to the discovery of some old log books I had written nearly forty years ago. I started to revisit those years and as such, I have posted a few of those entries. While I found them interesting and rife with mixed emotions, they have sidetracked me from my purpose.
....Because of the distraction, it has interrupted my trains of thought and those untracked thoughts have become somewhat stagnant. I'm finding it easier to tap into that old poetry rather than come up with some fresh material. I had already been off the beaten path with the "Honey-Doings" series as it was. Then as recently as Tuesday and Wednesday of this week, the matter of a new alternator for my truck not only detoured my thoughts, but managed to deplete the "funds available" account.
....I'm hoping over the last few weeks there weren't many interesting things happening that I may have missed and hence did not draw upon. I did take a joke I heard recently and expanded upon it to produce "Dogging It." Tonight, I did find a couple of new sites. The "Discomblogulated" above was a product of one of those sites. At http://www.flamingtext.com and http://websitefreebies.net, you can choose from a wide range of fonts and styles "to make your site more interesting."

While I can see a use for the some neater fonts and sizes of some text, what I was really trying to figure out was to change the lettering of the name of my site, "It Occurred To Me." One I sampled is the one below right. But I like the glowing "radio-active" one better. But as is the norm for me, I couldn't figure out how to replace the title in the template with one of these.
....There was an html code to copy and paste and I did that, but the "It Occurred To Me" was "saved as picture" - and that I couldn't get onto the template. Perhaps someone who reads might know how to do it. Maybe if I fool around with it long enough without going into the Thing's "It's Clobberin' Time" tirade, I will eventually figure it out. And maybe not ....

No.244

Thor-oughfare

The Mighty
THOR

I am posting this for no other reason than I simply like this picture!

(If you like Thor, even if you don't, check out this Marvel hero rolling a giant joint at http://www.flickr.com/photos/stoned-thor . ) Or use the link on my sidebar.

No.243

Money Can't Buy Me Love

Sorry, Betty! Looks like we have stay in tonight. No mon, no fun! Where are you going? Don't leave! What do you mean, too bad, so sad?

No, money can't buy me love, especially when Tuesday and Wednesday cost me $450! Trust me, I wouldn't be looking to buy love in the first place. I certainly wasn't looking to spend that kind of scratch on my wheels either. As detailed in my post, "Battery ... Not included," I was stuck with a dead battery on Tuesday afternoon. After a three-hour wait, the kid who arrived for the call from AAA, tested it and found I had dead cells. (I didn't realized it showed.) In the end, I purchased and he installed a new battery at double the price I could have bought one, and went on my way.

Turning the clock ahead to Wednesday, I was driving along when suddenly all the indicator needles on my dash display went south. The radio and air-conditioning were unaffected and all the digital displays were on. Pulling in front of scheduled client's house, I dared the ultimate test -- I shut off the engine! You guessed it, turning the key to start my truck, I heard the same rapid series of clicks I had heard the day before, but it wouldn't start.

An hour later, when I was finished with the client, just for laughs I tried the ignition again. Lo and behold, it fired right up. The rpm needle was moving to accelerator. All the needled gauges were working. But the battery light remained on. I realized what I should have realized the day before, the problem was actually the alternator.

Luckily the engine remained running long enough to allow me to drive the five miles to my mechanic's garage. I was not taking any more chances. This was something that positively had to be taken care of, and post haste! If it wasn't for bad luck, I swear, I'd have no luck at all. What were the chances that at 11:45 AM, he would get to look at my truck right away? I gave my odds as slim and none, and Slim had left town. Even the unlucky gets a break every now and then. So it was for me this time. He wasn't real busy and he had a bay open!

Although it was a new battery, it had better have been, it was almost dead. It wasn't charging. Another test confirmed what was by then obvious, it was the alternator. Calvin's display of faces over there may very have resembled my face when I realized that Tuesday's payout wasn't the end of my expenses. Those faces were repeated when Carmen, the mechanic informed me that the supply house had no refurbished alternators for a '98 Sonoma. All they had were brand new ones. $$ ch-ching went Linden Automotive's money till. $$ A few more of those faces contorted my countenance when I learned it would be at least an hour before the part could be delivered. As it turned out, it took him an hour to get the old one out. A simple calculation told me that by the time the truck was up and running again, this day too was going to cost me three hours.

With plenty of idle time to kill, I ran next door for a drink and a slice of pizza. Like the day before, I was at least near sustenance. I always carry a stenographers pad with me, and I put it to use as I jotted down some notes that would eventually become this posting. "It was a dark and stormy night.." Snoopy makes a better pet than he does a stenographer.

Finally! It was deja vu all over again! (Sorry, Yogi!) I was back on the road again. I completed the day with no more set backs. Two days had seen me with a total of six hours idle time. Fortunately, only two clients had been missed. I would have to offer to go them on Saturday. I hate giving up any of my weekends, but even a mere four hours on my pay check would be felt next payday, especially after those two days of spending.

No.242

The Reality Of It All

Now they've gone and done it! Bullwinkle isn't the only one to grab the wrong hat. The experts predicted their death knell. They said the end was in sight. There was hope for television. There was quality network programmimng on the horizon. I should have known better than to believe any sentence containing a word that rhymes with Verizon. If they had said around the corner, I would feel better. If they had said hope was buried under an avalanche, we would stand a chance to have a good show or two.

They assured us that "Reality TV" had just about run its course. It was a dinasaur facing extinction. In spite of the ratings, several studies indicated that over 80% of the viewers watching the so-called reality offerings, were watching only because there was nothing else on worth watching. The high ratings these programs are garnering, are in fact default ratings.

An entertainment industry critic sited the "Carol Burnett factor," as the prime example of default ratings. "The Carol Burnett Show," on Saturday evenings apparently ruled that time slot for years. But in only one half of a season, nearly 65% of that viewership jumped ship when a viable product was scheduled in the same hour. That viable product was "Star Trek: The Next Generation." Under the cloak of "retirement special," Carol Burnett and friends slipped away almost unnoticed.

It was considered an anomally at the time, that so many viewers would jump from a family comedy program to a high-brow science fiction production. At the time, Generations was the most costly program to produce on network TV. Was Star Trek that good? Was Carol Burnett that bad? Maybe it was just because a change was needed. "Everybody Loves Raymond" would've been successful in the same spot ... Not!

One thing however, is certain. Schedule a "good" program against another network show, chances are the existing program will falter when challenged. One can only hope that production is underway for the good alternative program that we have been promised.

The horrors! It looks like we are stuck with the networks sticking it to us for a little while longer. After all, these reality programs are cheap. Not only are they cheap in value and content, but they are cheap to produce because the help is cheap. They don't have to pay big bucks for big stars at actor's guild rates. Set up a TV camera somewhere, and people are more than willing to make fools of themselves just be on television.

To make matters worse, the Emmys have even created a category for Best Reality Program. One "candidate" field is missing -- "None Of The Above!" In my opinion, it is safe to say that "None" would receive a lot of votes. I wonder, if None won, who would come up to receive the trophy, nobody? Who would give the acceptance speech, nobody? "Thank you for this wonderful honor. I would like to thank nobody for nothing. If it weren't for nobody, I wouldn't be here getting a trophy for nothing. "

No.241

The Mirror Of My Mind

~

The Mirror Of My Mind

~

As I gaze into the mirror of my mind,

Which reflects of memories far behind,

I see the images of bygone dreams;

To my dismay, it somehow seems

That neither present nor future matter

When that mirror begins to shatter.

~

Because of the frequent reflections,

I visualize my life in small sections;

But if only that mirror's face

Somehow I could simply erase,

Allowing my eyes to see the future

And then perhaps, I'd feel secure.

~

But if I were able to see that yet to come,

Could I accept the knowledge and succumb

To the inevitable fate I've yet to live?

Would I take more than I want to give?

I might not like that which for me lies ahead

And so choose to atone for the past instead.

~

Were it I could but grasp my very heart,

I'd hurl it, shattering that mirror apart!

For if I can't see what lies ahead,

Why must I have reason to dread?

You see, the past is just a broken leg,

And I'm immune to the future's plague.

~

( November 28, 1969 Aboard U.S.S Warrington (DD-843) at sea off Portugal)

~

No.240

Battery ... Not included

. Damn! Damn! Damn!
It was a hot day, but that's not he reason for my expletives. I had stopped at a convenience store on route to my next client for the day. A couple of cold cans of Coke Classic was just what I needed.
....What I didn't need was for my truck to refuse to start. Though the radio and air conditioning were working, I figured it must have been the battery. Even above the nosie of the traffic on that busy street, I could hear a series of rapid clicks. Where one click would have suggested that there was a problem with the starter, this rat-a-tat meant otherwise. To be safe, I turned off the radio and the a/c, but had the same results. Damn! Damn! Damn!
....Swear words were beginning to form at the fore-front of my thoughts. Looking under the hood, I was hoping I'd see the problem right away, but inside I knew better. It's a guy-thing! You have to appear to know what you are doing. At least the fluid levels in the radiator and window wash tank were not low. Since I had a sealed battery, I couldn't check the water level in the cells.
....It was 12:45PM, so I called my office to let them know about my predicament. My coordinator said she would call my remaining clients and tell them I would be late and possibly might not make it at all. I promised to let her know what was going on when I had news to relay to her. If I was able to resume work, I would call her. (Don't count on it, I thought to myself.)
....Next I called AAA for some roadside assistance. By the time all the pertinent information had been passed along to the operator, and she had given me my reference number, it was 1:15. I had the gloomy feeling that this going to cost me - right in the wallet! Damn! Damn! Damn!
....Surveying my situation, I could at least take comfort in the fact that I was at least near civilization. I wouldn't starve or have to worry about dehydration parked in front of a convenience store. I didn't have to worry about eating junk food either. Next door was a pizza/sub shop. My stomach had been reminding me that I hadn't eaten yet.
....Interestingly, on the other side of the convenience store was a Psychic! Ms F. Fowler, according to her sign, specialized in Phrenology. (I never could buy the idea that the shape of one's head could have any bearing on one's personality.) The tools of her trade were displayed in the windows on either side of her door. There were some Tarot cards and a large diagram of a human palm with the life line indicated. Several crystal balls were laid about also.
....I wondered in jest, if the all-knowing Madame Fowler could give me a diagnostic of my truck's problem. Could she tell me how much it it was going to cost? When my cell phone rang at that moment, I'll bet she knew that is was AAA. She probably knew what time AAA would tell me when assistance would arrive.
....I glanced at my watch, it was 2:15, as I spoke to the AAA person. She informed me that they would have someone there to assist me at 3PM. (Sigh!) There would be at least another forty-five minute delay to my day. Damn! Damn! Damn!
....Hmm, according to the awning above the door, she was a Clairvoyant and a Spiritual Healer. I wondered if Dionne Warwick would recommend her? Then again, the Psychic Network didn't appear to do much to help out Whitney, her niece and her husband, Bobby.

....Unbeknownst to me, maybe the Madame was trying to tell me something? For across the street from where I stood was a used car dealership, and two door downs was an Enterprise Car Rental office. Next to the Enterprise was another auto dealership. What else was there? I saw an auto-glass shop -- no good for me at that time. A pet grooming shop "Paws Pause" -- cute! Back on my side of the street there was a Dunkin' Donuts -- nah, too hot for coffee, and their iced-coffee isn't so hot. A little further down there was a gas station -- gas only! After that there was a Walgreens, followed by a McDonalds, which was opposite a Jiffy Lube.
....Three o:clock came and passed. At 3:15, there was still no sign of help! When it turned to 3:30 by my watch, I was angrier than ever. Damn! Damn! Damn! Using my reference number, I called AAA again, at the same time rehearsing in my mind my line, "Where in the hell is he?"
....Finally! It was 3:45 when a van pulled up bumper-to-bumper in front of my truck. After my description of the problem and trying to start the truck, he echoed my feelings of earlier. The battery was probably low. Testing it, he discovered that there was a dead cell. He could try to charge it, but the charge wouldn't hold. I had to have a new battery!

....It was 4:15 PM, three hours after I had placed my original call to AAA, I was finally off and running. It was just one of those days, I thought as I drove to one of my clients, that maybe I should've stayed home. Now of course, Madame Fowler would have known how my day was going to transpire. She could could have saved me all the grief, time and money. Hmm, before I get home, maybe I should give her a call and ask for the box score of tonight's All-Star Game. I still had time to place a bet or two. Right? After all, she is all-knowing, isn't she? It says so on her window.

No.239

At Sea

~
(When you are at sea, it is easy to feel humbled. Every direction you choose to look, all you can see is the horizon. At night under a clear sky, it seems that you see can forever. It is easy to feel insignificant. The following was inspired by such a night somewhere in the North Atlantic.)

At Sea

The crested swells appear snow capped
As they rise and fall;
So calm, but yet unrelaxed
Neath a starry domed wall.

The moon's light lay broken
O'er the ripples of the sea,
Adding a luster silently spoken
As an ember before me.

The sea is as a young maiden,
Virgin and so fair,
Disturbed by a vessel laden
Through the salt-kissed air.

Its motion leaving a wake
In the pattern of the crests.
Ah, tis the craft's mistake -
The sea's rage ne'er rests!

The calm becomes storm -
The violated virgin slaps the face
Of a crew tired and worn
Because of the sailing pace.

But just as a loving woman,
There is mercy and she blesses;
For now she kisses every man,
And holds them in the caresses

Of a calming sea breeze
And bids them farewells;
For they will rest in peace
Neath the rising swells

That appear to be snow capped
As they in turn fall,
So calm, but yet unrelaxed
Neath the starry domed wall.

-(November 15, 1969, Aboard U.S.S. Warrington (DD-843) at sea)

No. 238

When The Rain Fell

~
Ere my window, I gaze intently,
And watch the rain fall gently.
The window, open e'er slightly
Allows the rain to enter lighly.
The mositure has found a place
In my heart, splashing my face.

There was a time when the rain
And wind whispered your name;
I remember the day we met,
With rain, the skies were wet.
Your lips had the taste of rain,
And I know, mine were the same.

Trickling on our cheeks like tears,
The rain, it soothed our fears.
The moon was hidden somewhere,
But we knew that it was there.
The stars we didn't see that night,
But we knew that all was right.

I held you tenderly in my arms,
Fully surrendered to your charms.
But one day, the rains were gone,
And we parted before the next dawn.
Now when it rains, I sit and pray
That we can relive another rainy day.

Ere my window, I gaze intently,
And watch the rain fall gently.

-(April 17, 1969 - Boot Camp , Great Lakes, Ill.)

No.237

Dogging It

Prince Charles, angry after being chastised for the hundredth time by his mother for his selection of a second wife, slammed the door of his car. Flooring it, he burned rubber and tore up the driveway toward the main gate of the Queen's estate. A small dog ran onto the pavement in front of him. He couldn't stop in time and struck the hapless animal, killing it instantly. He jumped out of his car and was horrified to learn he had run over his mother's favorite dog.
....He sunk down onto the grass, distraught. He wasn't exactly in the best graces with her as it was, how was he going to explain this? A smile crept onto his face, he could blame it on those pain-in-the-ass papparazzi! He felt something in the grass next to him. There was something partially buried in the yard. After he had dug it up, he saw that it looked like some kind of old lamp.
....There was an inscription, but it was covered in soil. As he was rubbing the object, there arose a large volume of blue smoke. Within the smoke he could make out a form. A genie suddenly appeared looming over him.
...."You have set me free after a thousand years of captivity," said the genie. "As your reward, I will grant you one wish."
...."Only one wish?" Charles asked.
...."New union rules," answered the genie. "Because of the high price of granting wishes, we have been forced to cut back. You won't believe how expensive it is for the smoke effects. It was either we reduce our expenses or there would have been some layoffs."
...."I know what you mean," said Charles, "You wouldn't believe how expensive it is for the country to support our Royal family."
...."Okay," the genie said, "What is it you would wish for? A better way of life for the British people?"
...."No way!" exclaimed the prince. "I have bigger problems than our subjects. I have all the things I need, but I just killed the Queen's dog. Is there a way you can bring it back to life?"
....The genie looked at the canine corpse and said, "I'm sorry, the dog is too mutilated to bring back to life. Is there something else you would like? Smaller ears, maybe? Or perhaps a personality?"
....The prince thought for a few minutes, reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. From this he produced two photographs. "I was married to this beautiful woman named Diana," Charles said extending the first photo to the genie. "The whole country loved her. But we divorced and then she died."
...."You want me to bring her back to life?" inquired the genie.
...."Heavens no!" replied Charles. "A few months ago, I married this woman, Camilla," he continued. "Camilla isn't the beauty Diana was, and everyone hates her!"
...."Hell, all this time in the grave," the genie said, "Diana still looks better!"
....Ignoring the genies remark he asked, "Do you think you can make Camilla as beautiful as Diana?"
....The genie studied the two photographs intently and after a few minutes said, "I tell you what, let's have another look at that dog!"

No.236

City Beneath The Earth

~
I awaken and find myself in a dim earthen passageway, disappearing into the darkness in both directions. Where am I? What is this place? Where on earth can I be? At first it is quiet, but suddenly it is not! For, from behind me, a rank of people are marching, not in double file, but smartly in fours. They parade on relentlessly past me, bound to a destination, I know not where. They are past me now, vanishing into the darkness of the passageway ahead of me. I follow, I know not why, perhaps to settle my curiosity as to where I might be.
....For what seems a near eternity, I hear them ahead of me, marching in rhythm. But now there is silence. Have they halted their parade for some unknown reason? Do they sense I am following them? Nonetheless, I continue in their direction. My steps come to an end, for now I am standing atop a steep cliff. Where did they go? Surely they didn't go this way, only to plummet to a certain death!
....I now study the environment around my perch, looking below my feet, I stare in awe. My eyes rest upon a massive underground city, completed encased in an earthen dome, perforated with cave-like openings, much like the one where I stood. Some of the openings are near the dome's floor, while others tower even above me.
....Suddenly, my observations are interrupted movement from behind me. I turn and find myself face to face with one of the city's inhabitants, and a fierce looking one at that! Without a word of warning, he is upon me, attacking me with powerful arms and body. My only reaction is to defend myself, even though outclassed as I might be. I suffer a tremendous blow to my head as his arm swung viciously. Almost unconscious, I grasp him and fall onto my back, pulling up and over me. I hear his muffled cry as his body hurtles past the Cliff edge before falling below. I chose not to look down at his broken body, but to move elsewhere away from there.
....My plight brings me to yet another passageway which I find slopes increasingly downward, probably to the city's floor far below. A short while later I find that I was right. Now I am standing at the mouth of the entrance, at the very base of the dome. Before me there is a city with a maze-work of streets, heavily traveled by the busy dome dwellers. My curiosity has the better of me -- so I proceed. I walk along the streets cautiously eyeing the people as they stroll about nonchalantly.
....I came to a huge square, and it appears that half the population is there. I couldn't imagine why. Mingling in the crowd, I feel that my presence is alarming to a few individuals. As if in reply to my thoughts, several of them are approaching me, eyeing me with uncertainty. Without undue hesitation, a pair of powerful arms lock around me, as still another pair pins my arms behind me. Guiding me across a plaza, abruptly I am released. Perhaps satisfied I mean them no harm, I appear to be accepted into their ranks.
....Everyone's attention seems to be centered on a lone figure standing at dais. With waving arms and a bellowing voice, he seems to be a leader. For he has everyone mesmerized. It appeared that no is looking around, keeping their gazes fixed on him. Suddenly, from somewhere in the city, there are screams! Then are more! In the distance, pillaging through the street, is a crimson blob nearing the center of the city. Around me the people are moving into a formation of some kind, perhaps as defensive measures.
....Wisely, I step aside and work my way clear of the city square. I know now what is in store for these hapless residents. What was a blob moving this way can now be seen for what it is. The crimson blob is a red-clad army attacking the domed city. I swallow hard as I see blood-spilt bodies fall. This is war! This is not a place for me. Not now. I must flee! Even as these thoughts enter my mind, I am seized from behind. I must act fast. My elbow finds a place in the mid-section of my aggressor, and his grip upon me loosens.
....Again I attempt to flee and make good my escape from this underground city. But how? I glance upward eyeing the top-most point of the dome, which has an opening at it's center. That must be the way out! Through the opening I can see the blue of the sky. My jogging pace now has me well away from the city's center. I am nearly to the passageway from which I originally emerged. Now I am sprinting up the inclining route. Now well above the city, I stop at one of the passageway openings and gaze upon he city far below. The battle is still raging. The carnage is sickening.
....I am about to continue my escape, when I realize I am not alone. Two of the city dwellers are advancing to me. My path by them is blocked. I use the element of surprise, it is I who makes the first move. When the first of my would-be assailants falls to a blow from my fist to his temple, the odds are even. Not so from the point of view of the other. He turns and flees.
....Suddenly, the very earth itself seems to heave beneath me. Earthquake! The walls of the passageway tremble and start to collapse. My escape is now more dire than before. This place is doomed. My pace is quickened all the more. The walls and ceiling crumble about me. Even the passageway floors start to crack from vibrations from within the earth.
....At long last, the dome's opening is within my reach. As my hands grasp the lip of the opening, the tremors increase. I chance one last glimpse of the city below. It is dead. The city's structures are falling, victims of the very earth from which they were constructed. My assured escape is cut short as a large stone smashes against my head. Dazed, I somehow manage to crawl through the opening even as the tremors continue.
....Consciousness escapes me as I tumble down a steep incline away from the domes entrance. I am tumbling down the outside of the dome. I awaken, out for only seconds, to the trembling earth and see that it was no earthquake dooming the underground city. It's unbelievable! For there a few hundred yards from is a boy. With mischief in his eyes, he is kicking and stomping at the collapsed remains of the dome -- the remnants of an ant hill!
....Dazed, my eyes are blurred. What a crazy dream! I look down at the flattened ant hill and I give it one last kick with my shoe!

-- June 21, 1969 aboard U.S.S. Warrington (DD-843) - at sea off Montego Bay

No.235

The Sky Diver

~
Many years ago, while I served in the U.S. Navy, I began to write some poetry. This was mainly to keep my mind occupied in what free time I had to myself. I was essentially away for home for the first extended amount of time in my life. It helped me to cope with missing my family, Dad, Mom, three sisters and a brother. Boot camp can be a cruel place for an eighteen-year-old lad. Eventually this poetry was transferred to some government-issued log books. From April of 1968, at the Great Lakes Training Center in Illinois, until my discharge in December of 1971, I eventually had compiled three volumes of poetry which numbered a total of 294 entries. I had dated them and noted where I was at the time of each writing.
....I recently came across the three volumes, dusty, but none the worse for the passage of almost four decades. Volume I was titled Just On My Mind And In My Heart, Vol. II, There Is More On My Mind And In My Heart, and Vol. III, Don't Go Away, For There's More On My Mind And In My Heart. Not exactly original titles I know. As I sat and read and skimmed, I realized that those volumes were actually a journal of the better part of four years of my life, four years in which I went from a frightened lad at boot camp to a man freed to pursue life. I run the gamut from love poetry to dark narratives in those volumes. Eventually, I believe I will set up another blog site and post the entire body of work with a link to this one.
....The work below was one of those dark entries, and to this day I cannot explain what I was thinking and why when I wrote this one. Also, I cannot explain why I chose this one to post before any of the others. It is unlike anything else I wrote in those years of military life.

The Sky Diver

Falling free.
Hurtling earthward.
Clouds, elevatoring by,
Zipped upward.
Suddenly, below the cotton mists,
He somersaulted,
He spun and soared.
Grace unfaulted.

The earth, mother's hand-made quilt
Rapidly enlarging.
Pencil lines became ribbons,
Ribbons became traffic-charged.
Ants became vehicles.
Miniature shrubs became trees.
He was awed, breathless,
Defying, embracing the up-rushing breeze.

Now, he opened his chute;
It didn't!

Falling free.
Hurtling earthward.
Earth, like water rising
Flooded upward.
Elevatoring to them,
Objects rising to meet him.
An eternity of unheard scream.
A moment of painful silence.
The dull thud.
Only a fraction of time for pain.

Silence.
A tell-tale crimson stain.

Falling free.
Earth, like draining water,
Sinking downward.
Now, soaring upward,
Traffic becoming ants, ribbons now lines.
Mother's quilt spreading below.
Elevatoring into the nether.

Soaring free.

--June 3, 1971 - Aboard U.S.S Warrington (DD-843) Newport, R.I.

No.234

Mr. Bloggers' Neighborhood

Good morning, kids! Welcome to my neighborhood. How are you today? That's nice. Excuse me while I hang up this ratty old sweater. Can you say cardigan? President Jimmy Carter wore cardigans, so my producers thought it would be nice if I wore one too. What's that? You don't like Jimmy Carter? Well, neither do I -- but I do like peanuts. Don't you? Peanuts are good for you.

Excuse me one more time, while I go to the closet and get out of these sneakers and put on my flip-flops. Do you see that picture down below? That's how I dress when I write this crap ... er ... Stuff for this program. I have some other pictures of me at work, but those are, well, for the older kids.

It's going to be a busy day in Mr. Bloggers' Neighborhood today. I have a lot of wonderful things for us to do today. I have a lot of friends who are going to visit us today from the neighborhood. We might see King Deep-Fryday and Queen Sara-Lee too. Won't that be exciting? What's that? Oh no, they aren't divorced. That scandal is still be investigated. So you mustn't worry your sweet little hearts about his pedophile charges. Also, I sure it is not true about the Queen and the soccer team.

Oh, look up there in our fake tree. It's Ex-Owl! You know he used to be a real live owl, don't you? Yes, that was our highest rated show when we had Mr. Taxidermist stuff him. Kids, you can own your own DVD of that show if you ask your parents to pledge $250 to PBS.

What's that? Where's the trolley? Oh yes, the trolley! Well, you see Mr. Bloggers likes to grownup things when he isn't entertaining you little brats ... er ... Kids out there. Anyway, I was celebrating with some cheap ... er ... Nice wine with a good friend of mine, Miss Bubbles, last night. She has this nice long whip ... Well, she accidentally knocked the trolley off its tracks. I'm afraid it's broken. Now don't worry, because Mr. Mechanic is fixing it up as good as new. Can you say Duct tape? We should do a program on how Duct tape is made. What's that? What was Miss Bubbles doing with a whip? Well, let's talk about that some other time. Kids, Mr. Bloggers has a big favor to ask of you. Please don't mention Miss Bubbles and her whip to Mrs. Bloggers.

We were going to visit with the young Prince today. But it seems he broke his leg last night. How, you ask? Oh, it seems that my friend Bubbles ... Miss Bubbles visited him last night too. She used her whip in his Palace room, and somehow it got wrapped around his leg and he fell. Yes, just like the trolley. Anyway, don't worry. He is fine and we will see him soon, I'm sure. Mr. Policeman said he could come home after the King and Queen post his bail!

Excuse me, kids. There's someone at the door. I wonder who has come to visit us here at Mr. Bloggers' Neighborhood? Why, it's Mr. FBI Agent! Can you say the Feds? Look at the nice shiny handcuffs they are trying on my wrists! Don't you wish you could play this game too?

That's all the time we have for today, kids. Now, I have one more favor to ask all of you. Ask your parents to send money to my program for my bail. Trust Mr. Bloggers, those pictures of you kids in your birthday suits on my computer are not really pornography. We all know that is art ... Don't we? Well, don't we? Goodbye for now kids. Tune in next week and I'll take you on a tour of Mr. Bloggers' New Neighborhood. Can you say, San Quentin?

No.233

Leggo My Legumes!

Competition; we experience it in all our lives. It shapes us into the people we are. It determines who among us will be the leaders or the followers. Our stations in life, marked by success or failure, are the results of competition. Familiar cliches are born of it, such as 'only the strong survive' and 'survival of the fittest.' Those can be exemplified by virtually any event in human history, whether it is in war, athletics and even knowledge.

This afternoon I witnessed a shining example of the survival of the fittest -- not in an arena of competition -- but at the serving bars of an all-you-eat buffet. On second thought, I suppose it could have been considered a battle of sorts. (Captain Caveman knows this.) When we first arrived at the restaurant, it was 1Pm, still within the so-called lunch hour. Our party of four was just part of nearly twenty who all got there at about the same time. From the safety our chosen booth, we had decided to bide our time and wait out the impending stampede.
Not unlike The Running Of The Bulls in Spain, the thundering hooves we heard were from the feet of the parties who had arrived with us. The spectacle resembled the mass exodus of commuters from a train during rush hour. But this mob wasn't going to work. It was a feeding frenzy! In only moments there was some elbowing, gouging and swearing. Imagining those serving stations as some carcass of a fallen beast, we watched dumbfounded. Were these really fellow homo-sapiens we were observing, or was it a pride of lions tearing into a wildebeest? I wondered if we should leave, hop in our cars and make like Speed Buggy for another place to eat.

To our left, a no-carbs group was packed together at the salad bar like sardines. Those who emerged from the mass of bodies were carrying plates and bowls overflowing with greens, onions and tomatoes. A trail of oils, vinegars and other dressings on the floor marked the path from whence they came. It was just then that a skirmish broke out! Two women were literally fighting over a chafing pan of green beans. "I was here first!" yelled one at the other. "You were not, bitch!" countered the second. "Well, I'm not a fat bitch like you!" the first roared. "Let go!" they said in unison. It seemed like slow motion as we watched the beans take flight before settling all over the floor.

My future son-in-law remarked, "All that over green beans?" I began to laugh and added, "Beans are legumes, right?" The women and he had given me a punch line, as well as a title for a blog. I said, "Leggo my legumes!" We shared the joke for a few minutes more until the rush had abated. The serving tables, nearly stripped bare moments before, were being replenished by the kitchen staff. Space Ghost had come to the rescue.

Finally unchallenged, we advanced upon the feast. Cavalier in our harvest, we had survived not on strength, but with patience and guile. We had our own cliche to put into play: the survival of the smartest. (We would practice that adage later when the challenge would shift to the quest for desserts.)

No.232

The Follicle Of It All

A few days ago I was assisting and elderly client with a shower, a service I provide for him three days a week. I was in the process of drying his feet when he said to me, "Mike, you're going bald."
....Knowing his hearing aid was on the kitchen table, I replied, "Yeah? Thanks for sharing that with me, John."
....His declaration, an obvious reference to my thinning pate, was no scoop. I have been keenly aware of that particular tract of deforestation for some time. My earliest recollection of that fact goes back at least fifteen or so years. My wife, myself and my daughter were at a large outdoor Craft Fair milling around the various tables of artisans. As I am wont to do, I had drifted off in my own direction leaving my wife and daughter with the knitted and crocheted wares.
....Exploring those tables themed with more manly creations, it wasn't long before I was on the far side of the grounds well out of their earshot. Later on when we met up again, my daughter innocently said, "We found you by looking for your bald spot!" Up until that point in time I had been unaware my hair was thinning on the top. I had known my hairline was receding, but was clueless about the pate. Once back home, I parked myself in front of the bathroom mirror. My hair looked fine on my reflection. So I grabbed a hand-held mirror and held it behind my head. In the two mirrors I was able to see that I was in fact ... balding! (I have been wearing caps on a regular basis ever since.)
....I am by no means a vain person, (Carly Simon was not singing about me.) and as such have not considered those drastic measures you see on those television commercials. No, if I am going be bald, then I'm going naturally. I've accepted the hand I was dealt. I am not going to buy Ron Popiel's spray paint -- beyond a doubt one of the most idiotic things I have ever seen. I am not going to get a weave. I am not going to have my hair augmented by micro-hair implantation! I even had to chastise my barber when he left long lengths of hair on my head. He apparently thought I would want to comb those long strands of hair to cover my thin spot. I nixed that notion right away. Just what I need -- to be walking on a windy day with ten-inch streamers flapping in the breeze! Finally, I will not, I repeat will not even consider a toupee! Rugs are for the floor, not one's head! The folly of it all -- make that follicle of it all!
....Look, my hair, what I have left of it, is salt-and-pepper streaked as it is. I have not to date, and will not in the future, try to color my hair in attempt to hide the gray. The same goes for my moustache and beard. Up until a year ago I was sporting a Van Dyke. When it reached the point that my beard was gray with just two brown streaks, and both on the left side, I chose to give up the chin coat. Flecked with gray, the moustache remains as a Fu Manchu.
....The ravages of time: our aging process is a slow one most of our lives. But there is that barrier that when breached, time seems to move a little faster. The hair is graying and thinning. I'm losing hair in places where I want to keep it, and now I'm also growing hair where I don't want it!
....The folly, the follicle of it all!

No.231

The Princes and the Pea

It is aggravating, uncomfortable and sometimes painful. You are walking along and it happens without warning. You have picked up something in your shoe! With each succeeding step of the inflicted foot, its presence becomes all the more pronounced.
Have you ever noticed that the discovery of such foreign objects almost always happens at inopportune times? Either your hands are full or you are in a place where it is impractical to rectify the malady.
Such was the case for me this morning. I was lugging some bags of groceries from a supermarket to my truck parked about fifty yards away. I couldn't attend to the matter in the middle of the parking lot. It felt like the object was the size of a pea! Lifting my foot from the ground, I shook it vigorously, hoping to dislodge it. Having failed in that attempt, I limped the remaining distance to the truck.
At the sanctuary of my truck, I finally had the oppurtunity to remove my shoe. Shaking it, tapping it against the door, and inspecting within the shoe with probing fingers, it appeared that I had gotten rid of the object.
Shoe back on, I went about my business. Later, however, I picked up something in the same shoe again, and curiously it felt like it was in the very same spot. At that moment I was in the driveway of a client. Inside the man's house, I again removed my shoe to find this object.
It is amazing to me that an object so small, nearly invisible, can cause so much so much grief inside one's shoe. I could feel nothing inside the shoe. If anything fell out, I couldn't say for sure.
The particular shoes I have been wearing are a knockoff brand of the more expensive Dr. Scholls. These are made by Prince, although that is probably an American name for a product made in China. Hmm, what isn't made in China these days? In any event, at nearly half the price, my Princes are just as comfortable and seem to last as long.
I found myself musing over that old Fairy Tale, The Princess And The Pea. The princess had much difficulty getting to sleep because of a pea under her mattress. Of course in the story, the solution was not to remove the pea, but rather to stack mattress upon mattress.
Well, I wasn't about to insert layer after layer of shoe pads to attack some miniscule piece of debris. While my shoe was off I probed the bottom of my foot to make sure it wasn't something on or in my sock. That's another amazing thing, just how does something get inside a sock?
Later on while I was going about my work, there were three or four more "attacks." It had gotten to the point, that I just simply ignored it. The instances of discomfort were sporadic, which led me to believe the object had been shifting around. This continued throughout the remainder of the day. Twice more I removed the shoe and twice more found nothing.
Finally the work day was over, and once I was settled in my chair at home I began to inspect that bothersome shoe in earnest. I don't know why I didn't look there earlier during all the previous inspections, that time I turned the shoe over. I wonder, can one consider discovering a "dumb moment" an epiphany?
There on the bottom of my right Princes was my pea. It was a tack! All that time, with all that aggravation and discomfort was the result of a tack in the sole of my shoe. It had not been penetrating the inside of the shoe, which explained why I never felt when my fingers were poking around inside there. The weight of my body when I stepped upon that shoe applied enough pressure for me to "get the point."
That Princess and her "battle" with the pea had had a happy ending, and she lived happily ever after. I obviously cannot know how happy I'll be in the future, but for today this tale of The Princes and the pea has a happy ending.

No.230

Answers Not So Spectacular

From the previous post Spectacular Vernacular, you were given 10 familiar proverbs that had been convoluted into into Thesaurian nightmare. As promised, here are the original proverbs:

(1) A rolling stone gathers no moss.

(2) Too many cooks spoil the broth.

(3) They who live in glass houses should not throw stones.

(4) The early bird catches the worm.

(5) All is not gold that glitters.

(6) Waste not, want not.

(7) A fool and his money are soon parted.

(8) It's an ill wind that blows nobody good.

(9) Look before you leap.

(10) To err is human; to forgive divine.

No.229

Spectacular Vernacular

Why should we use little words -- why not throw in high-octane words and send readers scrambling for their dictionaries? In the following statements that is exactly what you will find. All are familiar proverbs which have been converted into tongue-twisting twaddle. Do you think you can translate them into simpler English and come up with the original proverb? (The answers will be posted tomorrow.)

(1) A mass of concreted earthy material perenially rotating on its axis will not accumulate an accretion of byrophytic vegatation.

(2) A superabundance of talent skilled in the preperation of gatronomic concoctions will impair the quality of a certain potable solution made by immersing a gallinaceous bird in embullient Adam's ale.

(3) Individuals who perforce are constrained to be domiciled in vitreous structures of patent frangibility should on no account employ petrous formations as projectiles.

(4) That prudent avis which matutinally deserts the coziness of its abode will ensnare a vermiculate creature.

(5) Everything that coruscates with effulgence is not ipso facto aurous.

(6) Do not dissipate your competence by hebetudinous prodigality lest you subsequently lament an exiguous inadequacy.

(7) An addle-pated beetlehead and his specie divaricate with startling prematurity.

(8) It can be no ther than a maleficient horizontally propelled current of gaseous matter whose portentous advent is not the harbinger of a modicom of beneficence.

(9) One should hyperesthetically exercise macrography upon that situs which one will eventually tenant if one propels oneself into the troposphere.

(10) Aberration is the hallmark of homo sapiens while longanimous placability and condonation are the indicia of supramundane omniscience.

No.228

Heavy Management

A major research institution recently announced the discovery of the heaviest element yet known to science, tentatively named "Administratium."
--Adminisrtatium has 1 neutron, 12 assistant neutrons, 75 deputy neutrons, and 111 assistant deputy neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 312. These 312 particles are held together by a force called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of peons. (From Readers Digest)

Answers: From "This Is Your Brain on Blog" (No.226) dated 7/6/05.

Brain teasers:

1. Your lap
2. a mirror has only one side
3. throw the ball straight up in the air
4. go to bed during daylight
5. the match
6. elevators
7. he was never elected to 2nd term
8. for holding cows together
9. one long word
10. her age - she would be oldest living person

Proverbs:

1. Nothing ventured
2. The last straw
3. Still waters
4. Rats desert
5. The early bird
6. The proof of the pudding
7. Time
8. Old habits
9. No man

No.227

This Is Your Brain On Blog

~
Here's a few brain teasers for you to ponder:

(1) Where can anyone sit but you?

(2) Why would a cleaning person prefer to wash a mirror that a window of the same size, assuming they both are easily accessible?

(3) How can you throw a ball so it will reverse directions and return to you without the ball bouncing against or touching any solid object?

(4) Your bed and light switch are 15 feet apart. Without using any object or mechanical device -- no pole, no remote switch -- how can you turn of the light and get into bed before the room is dark?

(5) Rusty's cabin Montana is buried in snow, and the temperature is 25 below zero. Rusty's eyes move from the single match he has in his hand to a candle, an oil lamp and a fireplace with kindling -- all ready to be lit. Which does he light first?

(6) What common mechanized transports in New York City (120,000 of them) carry three times as many passengers daily as all the city's subways, trains, buses, cars and taxis combined?

(7) Why didn't William Howard Taft run for a third term as President?

(8) What is cowhide chiefly used for?

(9) Can you rearrange these letters into one long word: "doornonegwl?"

(10) If Betsy Ross were alive today, what would she be most noted for?

Can you provide the missing word/words to these well-known proverbs?

(1) ______________ nothing gained.

(2) ______________ breaks the camel's neck.

(3) ______________ run deep.

(4) ______________ a sinking ship.

(5) ______________ catches the worm.

(6) ______________ is in the eating.

(7) ______________ is money.

(8) ______________ die hard.

(9) ______________ serve two masters.

Just a thought: Committee -- A group of people who individually can do nothing, but as a group decide nothing can be done.

NO.226

Fractured Etymology No.9

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(Once again the Pointmeister has delved into his unique tome of lexiconic litany to come up with some new gems for you to ponder.)
~

1. Analogy - Life story of an asshole.
2. Arbitrator - A cook who leaves Arbys to work for McDonalds.
3. Barbarous - Sings like Streisand.
4. Buffer - Wearing least amount of clothes; more naked.
5. Consummate - Had some soup.
6. Controvertible - A sedan.
7. Enterprising - Serving on board the flagship of the Federation.
8. Forego - After foreplay.
9. Hypocritic - One who reviews films about pachyderms.
10. Interposition - Where the door is.
11. Liquidate - Take girl/boy friend swimming.
12. Negligent - Not wearing a sexy nighty.
13. Parasites - What you see from the top of the Eiffel Tower.
14. Primate - Remove spouse away from TV set.
15. Singular - A telephone company.
16. Subdued - A man who works on submarines.
17. Suppose - Grandma's nylons.
18. Syntax - A levy added to the price for sex.
19. Tremor - Not as big; thinner.
20. Voluptuary - Where Victoria's Secret models live.

(Remember, you just can't have a big enough vocabulary. Pointmeister is at your service to help .)

No.225