~
Minding my own business, I was just doing my job. I parked where I usually park in front of a client's house. I hadn't even reached the stairs when ...Splat! I was "tagged" by a blue jay perched in a tree about fifteen feet above me. He got me square on the shoulder.
~ Hoping to make eye contact with it, I wanted to let that dirty bird know just what I thought of him. It hopped to another branch on the far side of the tree. I heard another "splat." That time the little marksman got the windshield of my truck.
~ An hour later, as I was leaving the client's home, I dared a glance up into the tree. I was relieved to see that the tree appeared to be vacant. Dismayed, I surveyed my windshield, only to discover that it had been tagged twice more. I think Mr. Jay had been getting a little too much fiber!
~ Splat! Splat! Two smart-bombs made their mark, one on the bill of my cap and the other on the sleeve of my shirt. Did I say smart-bombs? Perhaps smart-guano would have been more accurate.
~ I was suddenly reminded of a silly ditty we used to recite as kids. "Birdie, birdie in the sky. Birdie, birdie on he fly. Dropped whitewash in my eye. But I do not cry, I thank God horse don't fly!"
~ Remember that Hitchcock film "The Birds?" I think old Alfred missed the boat. If he really wanted to terrify the audience, he should have had the sea gulls make a few "bombing runs." A couple of well placed guano shots to a few faces would have had them screaming in the aisles!
~ I yelled up at that damned blue jay, "Go ahead! Go ahead. Everyone else does." I shook my head and grabbed a damp rag from my tool box. As I wiped the mess from my arm, I glanced at the tree and muttered, "I must have a target on my back." I had the strangest feeling that somewhere near, Gary Larson was lurking, observing this drama. I'm sure he must have gotten some good ideas. Maybe this would be funny enough to bring him out of retirement to resume his strip. Hmm, perhaps there is a boneless blue jay ranch.
~ The second verse of that silly ditty buzzed inside my head. "Birdie, birdie with a pretty bill. Birdie, birdie on my window sill. Led him in ... With crumbs of bread, Slammed the sash on his little head!"
~ Now, now wait!! I would never hurt a bird or any other creature for that matter. I would never do such a thing. My anger at the "innocent" jay manifested itself in my recital of that dumb childish song. I was just recalling the events of that morning. The disclaimer is to assure everyone that I am an animal lover.
~ By the way, there is another verse to that ditty. "Birdie, birdie down in the yard. Birdie, birdie I hit you too hard. It's not whitewash in my eye. It is the tears that I cry. I pray to God, it will get up and fly!"
~ I would be remiss not to add the following joke:
~
On tall pedestals on either side of the entrance to a botanical garden stood two nude statues of a man and a woman. They are reaching out to each other in vain. Their out-stretched arms instead formed and archway. The passing pedestrians seemed to be unaware of the two beautiful sculptures.
~ One evening, an angel floated down and landed beneath the separated couple. "It is so sad that you two stand guard over this lovely garden. You see the many couples in love who pass beneath you. They have what you cannot have."
~ There was a twinkling of bright lights all around the statues. No one passed as these two beautiful bronze figures came to life. They leaped down from their marble perches and approached each other. They were no longer made of bronze, but of flesh and blood.
~ The angel moved near them. Their eyes were upon each other. If they were aware of he angel, they gave no clue. She whispered to the love-struck pair, "I give you one hour. One hour to live and experience what those who have passed under you have experienced. Explore the garden. You are free to do anything you desire." With that the angel vanished, but her voice spoke once again, "Go, you have one hour."
~ Hand in hand, their naked bodies bathed in bright moon light, they disappeared behind some shrubs. There was some rustling and harmonized laughing coming from the bushes. For a few minutes the rustling became frenzied. Then all was quiet save for a sigh from the woman. Shortly they emerged from he shrubbery and returned to the entrance to the garden. Their bodies glistened in the sweat of their actions of only minutes ago. Their loving eyes were glazed, and yet still looking deeply into the other's eyes.
~ The angel reappeared beside them. She could readily see that the man was still in a state of desire. The wanton look of the woman's face spoke the same of her. She spoke softly to the pair, "That took only a half hour. You still have thirty minutes left. Thirty minutes to do anything you so desire. Go, and enjoy." With that the angel faded from view.
~ With a blushing giggle the man said to the woman. "Was it good for you, too?" he asked. She nodded and moved closer to him.
~ "Should we do it again?" he said timidly to her.
~ "Yes. Yes." she replied. She turned and began to run back to the bushes where they had experienced ecstasy earlier. He ran hurriedly after her.
~ She exclaimed, "This time you hold the pigeon and I'll shit on it!"
~
(Holds up laughter cue card.)
~
As it turns out, I left that neighborhood behind without further incident. It wasn't the first time I have been pelted by bird doo-doo, and it certainly won't be the last. But I couldn't help but wonder how that blue jay would feel if I were to "tag" him!
~
No.189
Friday, June 17, 2005
Thursday, June 16, 2005
I Tot I Taw A Puddy Tat!
~
I assume that the Garfield comic strip by Jim Davis recently turned twenty-seven years-old. (Too lazy to research, thus I run the risk of making an ass of u and me.) That has been a recent recurring theme about our lovable lasagna-eating feline. The strip of June 16, in particular struck a chord with me.
~
~ There are three panels in which Garfield is seen lying on his back. The thought balloons were as follows:
Panel 1: "27...Where do the years go?"
Panel 2: "If only I could turn back the hands of time..."
Panel 3: (he is smiling) "And take all those naps all over again."
~
From this we gather that Garfield would not change a thing in his life if he had the chance. It's an often discussed and debated topic. Would we change anything if we were able to go back in time? It is easy to say yes, but we tend to qualify it. We add the caveat: "If I knew what I know now, back then."
~
I'm afraid, however, that that is not in the contract. That is not how the question was given. (Would you change anything in your life, if you had the chance?)
~
Myself, I have made a few mistakes. (But then again too few to mention - oops! Sorry, Frank.) There are a lot of things I would like to have turned out differently. But don't we all? I guess after all is said and done, my life and how it turned out isn't so bad.
~
Twenty-seven is an interesting age on which to focus. When I turned twenty-seven I had been to college, served four years in the Navy, gotten married, and had a one-year-old daughter. While monetary and material things could have made our life better back then, we are none the worse today.
~
No, I wouldn't change a thing as the question was posed. Now insert that caveat; you bet your sweet ass I would!
~
No.187
>
<
I assume that the Garfield comic strip by Jim Davis recently turned twenty-seven years-old. (Too lazy to research, thus I run the risk of making an ass of u and me.) That has been a recent recurring theme about our lovable lasagna-eating feline. The strip of June 16, in particular struck a chord with me.
~
~ There are three panels in which Garfield is seen lying on his back. The thought balloons were as follows:
Panel 1: "27...Where do the years go?"
Panel 2: "If only I could turn back the hands of time..."
Panel 3: (he is smiling) "And take all those naps all over again."
~
From this we gather that Garfield would not change a thing in his life if he had the chance. It's an often discussed and debated topic. Would we change anything if we were able to go back in time? It is easy to say yes, but we tend to qualify it. We add the caveat: "If I knew what I know now, back then."
~
I'm afraid, however, that that is not in the contract. That is not how the question was given. (Would you change anything in your life, if you had the chance?)
~
Myself, I have made a few mistakes. (But then again too few to mention - oops! Sorry, Frank.) There are a lot of things I would like to have turned out differently. But don't we all? I guess after all is said and done, my life and how it turned out isn't so bad.
~
Twenty-seven is an interesting age on which to focus. When I turned twenty-seven I had been to college, served four years in the Navy, gotten married, and had a one-year-old daughter. While monetary and material things could have made our life better back then, we are none the worse today.
~
No, I wouldn't change a thing as the question was posed. Now insert that caveat; you bet your sweet ass I would!
~
No.187
>
<
Fractured Etymology No.8
~
( The Pointmeister realized that he hasn't shared any words from his dictionary since April. Here are a few more gems from that tome. )
~
( The Pointmeister realized that he hasn't shared any words from his dictionary since April. Here are a few more gems from that tome. )
~
- Broker - what you will be if you invest unwisely in the stock market
- Coincide - the edge of a dime
- Compost - already written; past tense of compose
- Conspiracy - scamming Blackbeard out of his treasure
- Contour - when a new prisoner is shown around the facility
- Countermand - when wait-staff in a Deli is ready to work
- Dismay - as opposed to last May
- Feline - where you stand for hours to pay your auto registration
- Flagrant - a patriotic homeless person
- Hardware - a helmet
- Larceny - being a fan of The Far Side comic strip
- Marina - a female marine
- Oxymoron - that dude who sells Oxy cleaner on TV infomercials
- Past tense - go by a campsite
- Piston - much, much worse than pistoff
- Posture - a picture of one's backside
- Rectum - what happened to the two cars in the head-on collision
- Transparent - a mom or dad who is in and out of the house
- Upstart - the letter "U"
- Violence - more than one fiddle
( When you least expect it, the Pointmeister will share some more of special words wih you. )
No.186
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
First Pets - The Zoo at 1600
~ ( This posting is especially for scnoodlepooh - a true animal lover. She thinks she has menagerie! )
~
Flipping through the two hundred or so channels available to me, I wasn't having much luck as usual to find something decent to watch. My journey through the menu of stations did land on "The Animal Planet." They were running a program devoted to the history of pets in the White House.
~ When not transfixed to the boob tube for at least entertainment, why not grab the opportunity to gather some information and facts to use in a blog? The White House at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., Washington, D.C., has been the home to quite a collection of pets over the years. While there has been plenty of normal pets, such as cats, dogs and birds, our Presidents and First Ladies and their families have also maintained a veritable A-to-Z zoo of exotic creatures. There have been wallabys, horses, rabbits, cattle, sheep and even an alligator.
~ Thomas Jefferson had two grizzly bear cubs, gifts from the Lewis and Clark expedition. John Quincy Adams for a brief time kept an alligator in the Presidential bath tub. Four feet long before it was sent to a zoo, it was a gift from Egypt. Abraham Lincoln had goats on the White House lawn, as well as a variety of cats and dogs for his children.
~ Teddy Roosevelt had parrots and macaws, as well as chickens and a rooster. There were also guinea pigs, snakes and even a hyena. President Taft kept a cow on the lawn. Wilson had a small flock of sheep which kept the lawn groomed. William Harding was the first President to be seen with a faithful dog at his side. Laddie Boy was Harding's Airedale. Calvin Coolidge had two well known dogs, Prudence Prim and Rob Roy. His administration also had a goose, donkey, lions, and a particularly nasty bobcat. Mrs. Coolidge was often photographed with a pet raccoon. King Tut, Herbert Hoover's German Shepherd, was at the time receiving more favorable press than his master.
~ One of the most famous and beloved of White House pets was Fala. Fala, FDR's Scottish Terrier was the first dog to be filmed with heads of state from around the world. So faithful was Fala to Roosevelt, when it died seven years after its master, it was interred with the President.
~ Camelot gave the country its most intimate look into the lives of a First Family. The Kennedy's did not disappoint when it came to pets. There were an assortment of rabbits, cats and dogs for John John and Caroline to play with. There was Charlie, a Welsh Terrier who fathered puppies with the more famous Bushinka. Bushinka had been a gift from the USSR. Bushinka had actually been one of many animals to have been launched into outer space by the Russians during the space race. No less famous were the kids' ponies, especially Caroline's Macaroni.
~ LBJ followed with his two highly visible beagles, Him and Her. Animal lovers everywhere went bonkers when Johnson picked them up by the ears during a live news conference. His successor, Richard Nixon gave us Checkers, a cocker spaniel. Gerald Ford brought to the White House a Siamese cat and Liberty, a Golden Retriever.
~ The movie star who would be President came to the White House without any pets. In a highly publicized fund raiser by school children, the Reagans were presented with a puppy. The Gipper said the dog was Lucky and thus it was so named. Mr. Reagan declared Lucky as the first "official" White House pet. The puppy grew up fast and quite large. It was often filmed quite literally dragging Nancy helplessly behind. Eventually lucky was sent to their ranch and a new dog, a King Charles Spaniel named Rex was introduced.
~ George Bush introduced us to Millie, a Springer Spaniel. Millie, with Barbara Bush's help, had a best selling book. Millie had six puppies, one of which would return to the White House a few years later. Bill Clinton arrived initially with only daughter Chelsea's cat Socks. Socks was one of the most photographed and filmed of all Presidential pets. In his second term amidst the pall of scandal, Clinton received the companion he is most associated with, Buddy, a chocolate brown Labrador. Not to be outdone by Millie before them, the Clinton pets also had a best selling book "Dear Socks, Dear Buddy."
~ The current administration gives us not one, but two sons of former White House residents. George W. came aboard with Spot, the son of Millie. We are more familiar, however, with Barney, the Scottish Terrier which is often seen with the President. Barney was soon joined by another Scottie, a female named Mrs. Beasley.
~ You can't really say the White House has gone to the dogs. It's gone to animals all! Indeed, the "White Zoo" at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., just might be one of the most famous of animal habitats, for man and beast alike!
~
No.185
><
~
Flipping through the two hundred or so channels available to me, I wasn't having much luck as usual to find something decent to watch. My journey through the menu of stations did land on "The Animal Planet." They were running a program devoted to the history of pets in the White House.
~ When not transfixed to the boob tube for at least entertainment, why not grab the opportunity to gather some information and facts to use in a blog? The White House at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., Washington, D.C., has been the home to quite a collection of pets over the years. While there has been plenty of normal pets, such as cats, dogs and birds, our Presidents and First Ladies and their families have also maintained a veritable A-to-Z zoo of exotic creatures. There have been wallabys, horses, rabbits, cattle, sheep and even an alligator.
~ Thomas Jefferson had two grizzly bear cubs, gifts from the Lewis and Clark expedition. John Quincy Adams for a brief time kept an alligator in the Presidential bath tub. Four feet long before it was sent to a zoo, it was a gift from Egypt. Abraham Lincoln had goats on the White House lawn, as well as a variety of cats and dogs for his children.
~ Teddy Roosevelt had parrots and macaws, as well as chickens and a rooster. There were also guinea pigs, snakes and even a hyena. President Taft kept a cow on the lawn. Wilson had a small flock of sheep which kept the lawn groomed. William Harding was the first President to be seen with a faithful dog at his side. Laddie Boy was Harding's Airedale. Calvin Coolidge had two well known dogs, Prudence Prim and Rob Roy. His administration also had a goose, donkey, lions, and a particularly nasty bobcat. Mrs. Coolidge was often photographed with a pet raccoon. King Tut, Herbert Hoover's German Shepherd, was at the time receiving more favorable press than his master.
~ One of the most famous and beloved of White House pets was Fala. Fala, FDR's Scottish Terrier was the first dog to be filmed with heads of state from around the world. So faithful was Fala to Roosevelt, when it died seven years after its master, it was interred with the President.
~ Camelot gave the country its most intimate look into the lives of a First Family. The Kennedy's did not disappoint when it came to pets. There were an assortment of rabbits, cats and dogs for John John and Caroline to play with. There was Charlie, a Welsh Terrier who fathered puppies with the more famous Bushinka. Bushinka had been a gift from the USSR. Bushinka had actually been one of many animals to have been launched into outer space by the Russians during the space race. No less famous were the kids' ponies, especially Caroline's Macaroni.
~ LBJ followed with his two highly visible beagles, Him and Her. Animal lovers everywhere went bonkers when Johnson picked them up by the ears during a live news conference. His successor, Richard Nixon gave us Checkers, a cocker spaniel. Gerald Ford brought to the White House a Siamese cat and Liberty, a Golden Retriever.
~ The movie star who would be President came to the White House without any pets. In a highly publicized fund raiser by school children, the Reagans were presented with a puppy. The Gipper said the dog was Lucky and thus it was so named. Mr. Reagan declared Lucky as the first "official" White House pet. The puppy grew up fast and quite large. It was often filmed quite literally dragging Nancy helplessly behind. Eventually lucky was sent to their ranch and a new dog, a King Charles Spaniel named Rex was introduced.
~ George Bush introduced us to Millie, a Springer Spaniel. Millie, with Barbara Bush's help, had a best selling book. Millie had six puppies, one of which would return to the White House a few years later. Bill Clinton arrived initially with only daughter Chelsea's cat Socks. Socks was one of the most photographed and filmed of all Presidential pets. In his second term amidst the pall of scandal, Clinton received the companion he is most associated with, Buddy, a chocolate brown Labrador. Not to be outdone by Millie before them, the Clinton pets also had a best selling book "Dear Socks, Dear Buddy."
~ The current administration gives us not one, but two sons of former White House residents. George W. came aboard with Spot, the son of Millie. We are more familiar, however, with Barney, the Scottish Terrier which is often seen with the President. Barney was soon joined by another Scottie, a female named Mrs. Beasley.
~ You can't really say the White House has gone to the dogs. It's gone to animals all! Indeed, the "White Zoo" at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., just might be one of the most famous of animal habitats, for man and beast alike!
~
No.185
>
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Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Time Wounds All Heels
~
Chagrin is the operative word to describe today. They have a saying here in New England: "If you don't like the weather, wait a minute." Much to my chagrin, that saying took on a life of its own. Fresh (after a shower, of course) on the heels of two humid days of 90+ degrees, Mother Nature got a little cantankerous today.
~ Now it was forecast that there would be a change in the temperatures today, but it would occur after sunset. Since it was overcast the whole day, I'm not so sure the sun even rose. Despite the shrouded sky, it did approach the high 80s with no appreciable relief as to humidity. The Meteorologist, weatherman is so oxymoronic, standing in front of his map in his all-too neat three-piece suit, assured us there would be no change until the evening.
~ Well, his assurances and a dime left me seventy-five cents short for a cup of coffee. Like many people I was dressed for 90, not 47! Shorts and a tee-shirt, my friend, are inadequate for the most hearty of us when there is such a drastic drop in the mercury. Even though I was prepared in a sense, I had a pair of jeans, long-sleeve shirt and a wind-breaker in a bag in my truck, I was inside an apartment building when the summer turned to autumn.
~ The 43 degree drop happened in about a half hour. The wind-driven drizzle made the trip from an air-conditioned apartment to my truck an arduous one to say the least. It seemed strange, although necessary, to switch from a/c to heat while I was settling behind the wheel. The milk shake that I had been craving had by then become a distant memory. Visions more in the line of meat loaf or pot roast had taken over the lead in the lunch pool.
~ The Time Machine ~
Obviously, I survived the day, despite the weather, as evidenced by the entry of this posting. Okay. Okay! You got me! This was actually posted tomorrow, I just put today's date on it because by tomorrow I forgot to post it today. There is an advantage to this kind of posting. I now have from today until tomorrow to edit it, if I choose. By waiting until tomorrow, I am under no obligation to post anything today.
~ Now the idea for this posting actually occurred yesterday. You probably missed that posting, because I edited it the day after tomorrow into what you are reading the day before yesterday. Now, if you wish this to be clarified, kindly make a comment as of yesterday, and by tomorrow I will have gotten back to you, post haste by the way. That way you will have your answer today.
~
There was a young lady named Bright
Who could travel much faster than light.
She started one day
In a relative way,
And came back on the previous night.
(-Anonymous)
( I like that Limerick, I should have authored it. By the way the title of this blog is also a quote by Jane Ace. )
~
No.184
><
Chagrin is the operative word to describe today. They have a saying here in New England: "If you don't like the weather, wait a minute." Much to my chagrin, that saying took on a life of its own. Fresh (after a shower, of course) on the heels of two humid days of 90+ degrees, Mother Nature got a little cantankerous today.
~ Now it was forecast that there would be a change in the temperatures today, but it would occur after sunset. Since it was overcast the whole day, I'm not so sure the sun even rose. Despite the shrouded sky, it did approach the high 80s with no appreciable relief as to humidity. The Meteorologist, weatherman is so oxymoronic, standing in front of his map in his all-too neat three-piece suit, assured us there would be no change until the evening.
~ Well, his assurances and a dime left me seventy-five cents short for a cup of coffee. Like many people I was dressed for 90, not 47! Shorts and a tee-shirt, my friend, are inadequate for the most hearty of us when there is such a drastic drop in the mercury. Even though I was prepared in a sense, I had a pair of jeans, long-sleeve shirt and a wind-breaker in a bag in my truck, I was inside an apartment building when the summer turned to autumn.
~ The 43 degree drop happened in about a half hour. The wind-driven drizzle made the trip from an air-conditioned apartment to my truck an arduous one to say the least. It seemed strange, although necessary, to switch from a/c to heat while I was settling behind the wheel. The milk shake that I had been craving had by then become a distant memory. Visions more in the line of meat loaf or pot roast had taken over the lead in the lunch pool.
~ The Time Machine ~
Obviously, I survived the day, despite the weather, as evidenced by the entry of this posting. Okay. Okay! You got me! This was actually posted tomorrow, I just put today's date on it because by tomorrow I forgot to post it today. There is an advantage to this kind of posting. I now have from today until tomorrow to edit it, if I choose. By waiting until tomorrow, I am under no obligation to post anything today.
~ Now the idea for this posting actually occurred yesterday. You probably missed that posting, because I edited it the day after tomorrow into what you are reading the day before yesterday. Now, if you wish this to be clarified, kindly make a comment as of yesterday, and by tomorrow I will have gotten back to you, post haste by the way. That way you will have your answer today.
~
There was a young lady named Bright
Who could travel much faster than light.
She started one day
In a relative way,
And came back on the previous night.
(-Anonymous)
( I like that Limerick, I should have authored it. By the way the title of this blog is also a quote by Jane Ace. )
~
No.184
>
<
Monday, June 13, 2005
When The Lights Went Out
~
Actually, the lights didn't go out! It was Comcast! In the blinking of an eye I lost it! All, that is. I lost it all! It was with neither a whimper nor a roar. It was just a ... ' POOF!' ... There is an eerie silence on a battlefield after the last shot is fired. There is that horrible moment in a play when at your cue, you freeze and forget your line...the other actor is waiting to deliver his or her line ... the audience too is a part of a pregnant pause.
~ And then there is that instant between key-strokes, that for an inexplicable nano-second you realize you are lost in cyber space. You still have the site on your screen but something isn't right. Then you realize that someone is frying something in grease in the next room. Wait a minute! The next room is the living room! It was definitely Comcast! That frying was the static of your TV set without an in-coming cable signal. The phenomenon know as "white noise" had replaced the post game program.
~ Someone in another part of the house shouts "Hey! We lost the phone!" No doubt about it, it was Comcast! They were talking when ... ' Poof!' ... The phone was dead.
~ The cable was out! The phone was out! The internet was out! We were suddenly cut off from the world. We were isolated. Was it like this in a lifeboat when the Titanic slipped beneath the cold waters of the Atlantic? Was it like this for the Donner party, lost in Death Valley?
~ Obviously the situation was not quite that dire. Sure, we lost our life line to the outside world, but all was not lost. We did have electricity. We could see. Yes, we could see clearly that it was Comcast! Comcast doesn't do lights. But Comcast does do cable, telephone and internet!
~ I was in the middle of posting a comment to schnoodlepooh's latest posting. It was at the very moment that I had pressed "publish" that we were so rudely cut off from the world. We have been through this before, and as such were prepared to act out our "In-case-of-emergency-contingency-plan." Please don't try this at home and especially not without adult supervision. Step one: turn off computers; Step two: turn off TV's; and Step three: go to bed early. Hey, I know these are drastic measures, but why should we waste time idly doing nothing? If you are going to waste time, it should be productively like watching TV, and talking on the phone, and of course being on the computer! We are not savages! After all, it was Comcast!
~ As suddenly as the crisis had begun ...' Poof!' The TV sprung back to life! There was a dial tone! And the lights were all green on the modem. ' Poof!' The comment I had attempted to publish, published! Suddenly all was right with the world. (sigh) It was Comcast.
~
No.183
><
Actually, the lights didn't go out! It was Comcast! In the blinking of an eye I lost it! All, that is. I lost it all! It was with neither a whimper nor a roar. It was just a ... ' POOF!' ... There is an eerie silence on a battlefield after the last shot is fired. There is that horrible moment in a play when at your cue, you freeze and forget your line...the other actor is waiting to deliver his or her line ... the audience too is a part of a pregnant pause.
~ And then there is that instant between key-strokes, that for an inexplicable nano-second you realize you are lost in cyber space. You still have the site on your screen but something isn't right. Then you realize that someone is frying something in grease in the next room. Wait a minute! The next room is the living room! It was definitely Comcast! That frying was the static of your TV set without an in-coming cable signal. The phenomenon know as "white noise" had replaced the post game program.
~ Someone in another part of the house shouts "Hey! We lost the phone!" No doubt about it, it was Comcast! They were talking when ... ' Poof!' ... The phone was dead.
~ The cable was out! The phone was out! The internet was out! We were suddenly cut off from the world. We were isolated. Was it like this in a lifeboat when the Titanic slipped beneath the cold waters of the Atlantic? Was it like this for the Donner party, lost in Death Valley?
~ Obviously the situation was not quite that dire. Sure, we lost our life line to the outside world, but all was not lost. We did have electricity. We could see. Yes, we could see clearly that it was Comcast! Comcast doesn't do lights. But Comcast does do cable, telephone and internet!
~ I was in the middle of posting a comment to schnoodlepooh's latest posting. It was at the very moment that I had pressed "publish" that we were so rudely cut off from the world. We have been through this before, and as such were prepared to act out our "In-case-of-emergency-contingency-plan." Please don't try this at home and especially not without adult supervision. Step one: turn off computers; Step two: turn off TV's; and Step three: go to bed early. Hey, I know these are drastic measures, but why should we waste time idly doing nothing? If you are going to waste time, it should be productively like watching TV, and talking on the phone, and of course being on the computer! We are not savages! After all, it was Comcast!
~ As suddenly as the crisis had begun ...' Poof!' The TV sprung back to life! There was a dial tone! And the lights were all green on the modem. ' Poof!' The comment I had attempted to publish, published! Suddenly all was right with the world. (sigh) It was Comcast.
~
No.183
>
<
Sunday, June 12, 2005
The Auction
~
I was awakened abruptly at 8:30 Am Saturday morning and was informed that we were going to an auction. Half awake I muttered a reasonable facsimile of ..."What?...Where?...When?" On my feet and stumbling I managed a muffled "What's this WE stuff?" It's not easy splashing cold water in your face and drink a cup of coffee at the same time. The trick is to remember the correct sequence. Splash! Sip! Slurp! Sip! Aarrghh!
~ The smell of coffee in my moustache ultimately was my co-pilot as I navigated the seven miles to the auction which was to start at 10AM. I was dismayed to see a full lot, as a full lot meant competition.
~ A failed sports bar was the subject of the auction. There were four hundred TV sets, eight pool tables, sports memorabilia, and neon beer signs up for grabs. Of particular interest to me was one of five 40-inch-plus high definition television sets. I had no reason to think that other people, especially the mostly male crowd, would also be interested in HDTV's.
~ As I sat through a stream of various autographed hockey sticks, photographs and even the bright yellow hood of a NASCAR vehicle emblazoned with "Tide," I was glad the other objects were drawing bids. My reasoning was that if they blew $575 for a car hood, they wouldn't have enough left for the TV sets.
~ There were quite a few items on the docket before the first of my items were due, so I took a walk through the huge club. I noticed that no one else seemed to be paying attention to the large screen sets. This was good. So as not to tip my hand, I decided not to inspect them too closely. Of course, it occurred to me that the others were probably acting likewise.
~ I stopped at a couple of the regulation pool tables, dreamily picturing them in my house. It was roughly the same size as the dining room set. Wisely, I dispelled that thought. Besides, I wasn't ready to go to my own funeral, and certainly not as the center piece! I decided to be thankful that a big screen TV was acceptable booty.
~ Finally, the first of the televisions was up for bids. I was able to get in two bids before a bidding frenzy took over the proceedings. My $500 was quickly dwarfed by four other bidders. It went off at $2000, almost half the price for a brand new one. So it was with the next two sets.
~ Now the fourth set was the prize I desired the most. It was a Sony 52-inch HDTV. Knowing that the other ones had sold well beyond my ceiling, I held little hope for this one too. I did manage to flash three bids this time.
~ I turned to my future son-in-law sitting with my daughter behind me. I shrugged my shoulders. He shook his head as I reached up to remove my reading glasses. From the bidding from my turned head, I could tell that two people were bidding against each other in $100 increments. Placing my glasses in my shirt pocket, I turned to watch the action. It was then I realized that my movements had been taken as bids. A bidding war had been waging between me and a man across the room. I had the current highest bid at $1500!
~ They say that your life passes before your eyes when you are at death's door. I could see it now, my obituary was being written right that moment. Thankfully the other man bid $1600 just before the auctioneer could say "Sold!" I froze then and there. In suspended animation, I moved nary a muscle. I had to ignore an itch beside my nose. I was holding my breath. "Sold at $1600 to the man on the left." With that weight off my shoulders, I slipped away my tail tucked between my legs. There were fifteen items to go before the fifth and final set would be up for bids.
~ Outside, the winning bidder came up to me. "I'm glad you bowed out." he said. "That was my limit." I told I had reached my limit too. I wished him luck with his TV and went outside for some fresh air. There was no way that I was going to tell him that he could have it at $600. He wouldn't be a happy camper if he knew my shuffling in my seat had cost him a grand!
~ Needless to say, number five also went off beyond my limit. Since my daughter and her fiancee were interested in a couple of items, I decided to sit with them for a while longer. I shifted in my seat to get comfortable and rubbed my shoulder on the spot of an old injury. "Sold for $50 to the gentleman in the back!"
~ I had just been the sole bidder on something at fifty bucks! For what, I had no idea. I handed my bidding card and the money to my daughter. I told them I would wait for them outside. Twenty minutes later they emerged. She was carrying a bag I assumed to be my "prize." The two of them were laughing. That didn't bode well, I thought. But I had learned a lesson, and I had learned it well. I would never go to an auction unless I was shackled to a chair.
~ Shortly, we left in our separate vehicles. They had come out empty-handed. The neon Samuel Adams beer signs had gone off for more than he was willing to pay. As they went to their house one way, I went the opposite to my own home. I had some explaining to do, that was for sure! I could hear it then, "You paid $50 for that?!" With the Beatles' "Can't Buy Me Love" on the radio I followed my hood homeward.
~
...By the way, anyone interested in a likeness of Arnold Palmer made out of dried raisins?
~
No.182
><
I was awakened abruptly at 8:30 Am Saturday morning and was informed that we were going to an auction. Half awake I muttered a reasonable facsimile of ..."What?...Where?...When?" On my feet and stumbling I managed a muffled "What's this WE stuff?" It's not easy splashing cold water in your face and drink a cup of coffee at the same time. The trick is to remember the correct sequence. Splash! Sip! Slurp! Sip! Aarrghh!
~ The smell of coffee in my moustache ultimately was my co-pilot as I navigated the seven miles to the auction which was to start at 10AM. I was dismayed to see a full lot, as a full lot meant competition.
~ A failed sports bar was the subject of the auction. There were four hundred TV sets, eight pool tables, sports memorabilia, and neon beer signs up for grabs. Of particular interest to me was one of five 40-inch-plus high definition television sets. I had no reason to think that other people, especially the mostly male crowd, would also be interested in HDTV's.
~ As I sat through a stream of various autographed hockey sticks, photographs and even the bright yellow hood of a NASCAR vehicle emblazoned with "Tide," I was glad the other objects were drawing bids. My reasoning was that if they blew $575 for a car hood, they wouldn't have enough left for the TV sets.
~ There were quite a few items on the docket before the first of my items were due, so I took a walk through the huge club. I noticed that no one else seemed to be paying attention to the large screen sets. This was good. So as not to tip my hand, I decided not to inspect them too closely. Of course, it occurred to me that the others were probably acting likewise.
~ I stopped at a couple of the regulation pool tables, dreamily picturing them in my house. It was roughly the same size as the dining room set. Wisely, I dispelled that thought. Besides, I wasn't ready to go to my own funeral, and certainly not as the center piece! I decided to be thankful that a big screen TV was acceptable booty.
~ Finally, the first of the televisions was up for bids. I was able to get in two bids before a bidding frenzy took over the proceedings. My $500 was quickly dwarfed by four other bidders. It went off at $2000, almost half the price for a brand new one. So it was with the next two sets.
~ Now the fourth set was the prize I desired the most. It was a Sony 52-inch HDTV. Knowing that the other ones had sold well beyond my ceiling, I held little hope for this one too. I did manage to flash three bids this time.
~ I turned to my future son-in-law sitting with my daughter behind me. I shrugged my shoulders. He shook his head as I reached up to remove my reading glasses. From the bidding from my turned head, I could tell that two people were bidding against each other in $100 increments. Placing my glasses in my shirt pocket, I turned to watch the action. It was then I realized that my movements had been taken as bids. A bidding war had been waging between me and a man across the room. I had the current highest bid at $1500!
~ They say that your life passes before your eyes when you are at death's door. I could see it now, my obituary was being written right that moment. Thankfully the other man bid $1600 just before the auctioneer could say "Sold!" I froze then and there. In suspended animation, I moved nary a muscle. I had to ignore an itch beside my nose. I was holding my breath. "Sold at $1600 to the man on the left." With that weight off my shoulders, I slipped away my tail tucked between my legs. There were fifteen items to go before the fifth and final set would be up for bids.
~ Outside, the winning bidder came up to me. "I'm glad you bowed out." he said. "That was my limit." I told I had reached my limit too. I wished him luck with his TV and went outside for some fresh air. There was no way that I was going to tell him that he could have it at $600. He wouldn't be a happy camper if he knew my shuffling in my seat had cost him a grand!
~ Needless to say, number five also went off beyond my limit. Since my daughter and her fiancee were interested in a couple of items, I decided to sit with them for a while longer. I shifted in my seat to get comfortable and rubbed my shoulder on the spot of an old injury. "Sold for $50 to the gentleman in the back!"
~ I had just been the sole bidder on something at fifty bucks! For what, I had no idea. I handed my bidding card and the money to my daughter. I told them I would wait for them outside. Twenty minutes later they emerged. She was carrying a bag I assumed to be my "prize." The two of them were laughing. That didn't bode well, I thought. But I had learned a lesson, and I had learned it well. I would never go to an auction unless I was shackled to a chair.
~ Shortly, we left in our separate vehicles. They had come out empty-handed. The neon Samuel Adams beer signs had gone off for more than he was willing to pay. As they went to their house one way, I went the opposite to my own home. I had some explaining to do, that was for sure! I could hear it then, "You paid $50 for that?!" With the Beatles' "Can't Buy Me Love" on the radio I followed my hood homeward.
~
...By the way, anyone interested in a likeness of Arnold Palmer made out of dried raisins?
~
No.182
>
<
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Emergency Blogcasting System
~
This is a test of the Emergency Blogcasting System. Had this been an actual emergency, this site would be providing you with up to date emergency URL's, phone numbers and instructions for your area.
~
In order to find out just what services will be available to you, please wait until the next emergency. If you tune in here and find that there is no information, there is probably no emergency. If you tune in here and get nothing but static, then the emergency is serious and we have all gone home. If you tune in here but cannot get an internet connection, you may very well be the sole survivor.
~
In the event of a nuclear attack, kindly place your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye!
~
This concludes this test of the Emergency Blogcasting System.
~
No.181
><
This is a test of the Emergency Blogcasting System. Had this been an actual emergency, this site would be providing you with up to date emergency URL's, phone numbers and instructions for your area.
~
In order to find out just what services will be available to you, please wait until the next emergency. If you tune in here and find that there is no information, there is probably no emergency. If you tune in here and get nothing but static, then the emergency is serious and we have all gone home. If you tune in here but cannot get an internet connection, you may very well be the sole survivor.
~
In the event of a nuclear attack, kindly place your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye!
~
This concludes this test of the Emergency Blogcasting System.
~
No.181
>
<
What's Wordsworth's Words Worth?
~
Back in the good old days life was a real gas. It was flipsville and endsville. Our friends were the bees knees, the cat's pajamas, and the cat's meow. It's funny that none of us ever found out who won those submarine races. When we were knee-high to a grasshopper we were always reminded to pull the chain, and not to take any wooden nickels. The boys wore knickers and sported a DA. The girls' fashions included poodle skirts and pedal pushers and on their heads they had pageboys or beehives. Parting company wasn't noted with a simple good-bye, it was catch you in the funny papers or see you later alligator.
~ Oh my stars! The English language is an ever-changing reflection of the times. Each generation brings with it a unique vernacular and slang. To be hip, you to talk hip if you wanted to be a part of the in-crowd. Remember when hunk meant a large lump of something? Crack was a small opening. Ice was frozen water. Pot was a cooking utensil. Rap meant to knock on a surface. Do you recall that pound was British currency or a measure of weight? Now it is that tilted tick-tack-toe thingy above the 3 on a keyboard or beneath the 9 on a telephone.
~ A stay-at-home mom used to be a housewife or a homemaker. Somewhere along the way the stewardess morphed into a flight attendant. When I was a boy, my mother wasn't pregnant, but in a family way or expecting, and it was the stork she was expecting.
~ We had our own words for money: greenbacks, cabbage, moolah, dough, ticket to ride, jingles (coins). Today the kids use: cheddar, shekels, benjamins, dead presidents, duckets, ends, grain, paper, scrilla, and they kept dough.
~ Yes, the times they are a-changing as we try to keep up with the lingo of the kids today.
~ The following disappearing words and phrases still hold meaning to some of us:
~ Jeepers. Swell. Spiffy. Hunky-dory. Groovy. It's your nickel. Pshaw. Nifty. Just ducky. Spooning. Billing and cooing. Flivvers. Hubba-hubba! Moxie. Cut a rug. Straighten up and fly right. Put on your best bib and nickers. Juke joints and Juke boxes. Life of Riley. Copacetic. Kilroy was here. Skate keys. I'll be a monkey's uncle. Candy cigarettes. Passion pit. Lovers' lane. This is a fine kettle of fish. Rumble seats. Peachy-keen. Fountain pens. Nincompoop. Fridgidaires. Victrolas. A dilly. A doozy. Heavens to Betsy. Not for all the tea in china.
~
( Some of the words and phrases appeared in the article "The Way We Word" by Richard Lederer, appearing in he Mar-Apr '05 AARP Magazine)>
~
To see how well you know the English language, try the 20-Questions at: http://www.aarpmagazine.org
~
No.180
<
Back in the good old days life was a real gas. It was flipsville and endsville. Our friends were the bees knees, the cat's pajamas, and the cat's meow. It's funny that none of us ever found out who won those submarine races. When we were knee-high to a grasshopper we were always reminded to pull the chain, and not to take any wooden nickels. The boys wore knickers and sported a DA. The girls' fashions included poodle skirts and pedal pushers and on their heads they had pageboys or beehives. Parting company wasn't noted with a simple good-bye, it was catch you in the funny papers or see you later alligator.
~ Oh my stars! The English language is an ever-changing reflection of the times. Each generation brings with it a unique vernacular and slang. To be hip, you to talk hip if you wanted to be a part of the in-crowd. Remember when hunk meant a large lump of something? Crack was a small opening. Ice was frozen water. Pot was a cooking utensil. Rap meant to knock on a surface. Do you recall that pound was British currency or a measure of weight? Now it is that tilted tick-tack-toe thingy above the 3 on a keyboard or beneath the 9 on a telephone.
~ A stay-at-home mom used to be a housewife or a homemaker. Somewhere along the way the stewardess morphed into a flight attendant. When I was a boy, my mother wasn't pregnant, but in a family way or expecting, and it was the stork she was expecting.
~ We had our own words for money: greenbacks, cabbage, moolah, dough, ticket to ride, jingles (coins). Today the kids use: cheddar, shekels, benjamins, dead presidents, duckets, ends, grain, paper, scrilla, and they kept dough.
~ Yes, the times they are a-changing as we try to keep up with the lingo of the kids today.
~ The following disappearing words and phrases still hold meaning to some of us:
~ Jeepers. Swell. Spiffy. Hunky-dory. Groovy. It's your nickel. Pshaw. Nifty. Just ducky. Spooning. Billing and cooing. Flivvers. Hubba-hubba! Moxie. Cut a rug. Straighten up and fly right. Put on your best bib and nickers. Juke joints and Juke boxes. Life of Riley. Copacetic. Kilroy was here. Skate keys. I'll be a monkey's uncle. Candy cigarettes. Passion pit. Lovers' lane. This is a fine kettle of fish. Rumble seats. Peachy-keen. Fountain pens. Nincompoop. Fridgidaires. Victrolas. A dilly. A doozy. Heavens to Betsy. Not for all the tea in china.
~
( Some of the words and phrases appeared in the article "The Way We Word" by Richard Lederer, appearing in he Mar-Apr '05 AARP Magazine)>
~
To see how well you know the English language, try the 20-Questions at: http://www.aarpmagazine.org
~
No.180
<
Friday, June 10, 2005
Shut The Cell Up!
~
Just what did everyone do before they had one? Did they manage to get by? Did they miss anything? Were their lives any less complete?
~
~ Everyone, it seems, has one. Hey, I have one myself! Of course, that of which I speak is a cell phone. They are everywhere. They are so much a part of our lives now, that it has become difficult to imagine a world without them. But it is to desire such a world.
~
~ Like them or not, you positively must have one! They are important after all. They are certainly handy in cases of emergencies. They are essential when you are in a movie theater. They are important when riding on a bus. They are a must when you are at the supermarket. Why bother with shopping lists, when you find out what you need over the phone? Apparently the internal combustion engine will not operate properly unless the driver is talking on a cell phone.
~
~ Now if you happen to have a head set, the uses of your cell phone will increase expotentially because you have both hands free. A certainly celebrity, who shall remain nameless, says that she likes to talk on her cell phone while she is making love. Of course, Ms. Hilton prefers a phone that can take pictures and record video.
~
~ You can talk on the cell phone with one hand, and surf the TV channels with the remote in the other. Speaking of surfing, you can easily talk on the phone and read your e-mail. I suppose that it must be particularly satisfying to talk to the person about the e-mail they just sent you.
~
~ You can take walks with a cell phone to your ear. You can even go jogging while using one. You can download your favorite tunes and use them as your ringer. You can send text messages. You can play games.
~
~ What ever happened to independence? What ever happened to "getting away from it all?" What ever happened to "leaving the phone off the hook?" What ever happened to "calling home when you are going to be late?" What ever happened to ordering a pizza to be delivered at home instead of a street corner? What ever happened to trying to keep the phone bill low?
What ever happened to peace of mind?
~
~ Must they really have to pass laws to prevent people from using a phone while they are driving? Do they really have to be scolded for using a phone in a theater?
~
~ Enough already!
~
~ Get a life!
~
~ Shut the cell up!
~
No.179
><
Just what did everyone do before they had one? Did they manage to get by? Did they miss anything? Were their lives any less complete?
~
~ Everyone, it seems, has one. Hey, I have one myself! Of course, that of which I speak is a cell phone. They are everywhere. They are so much a part of our lives now, that it has become difficult to imagine a world without them. But it is to desire such a world.
~
~ Like them or not, you positively must have one! They are important after all. They are certainly handy in cases of emergencies. They are essential when you are in a movie theater. They are important when riding on a bus. They are a must when you are at the supermarket. Why bother with shopping lists, when you find out what you need over the phone? Apparently the internal combustion engine will not operate properly unless the driver is talking on a cell phone.
~
~ Now if you happen to have a head set, the uses of your cell phone will increase expotentially because you have both hands free. A certainly celebrity, who shall remain nameless, says that she likes to talk on her cell phone while she is making love. Of course, Ms. Hilton prefers a phone that can take pictures and record video.
~
~ You can talk on the cell phone with one hand, and surf the TV channels with the remote in the other. Speaking of surfing, you can easily talk on the phone and read your e-mail. I suppose that it must be particularly satisfying to talk to the person about the e-mail they just sent you.
~
~ You can take walks with a cell phone to your ear. You can even go jogging while using one. You can download your favorite tunes and use them as your ringer. You can send text messages. You can play games.
~
~ What ever happened to independence? What ever happened to "getting away from it all?" What ever happened to "leaving the phone off the hook?" What ever happened to "calling home when you are going to be late?" What ever happened to ordering a pizza to be delivered at home instead of a street corner? What ever happened to trying to keep the phone bill low?
What ever happened to peace of mind?
~
~ Must they really have to pass laws to prevent people from using a phone while they are driving? Do they really have to be scolded for using a phone in a theater?
~
~ Enough already!
~
~ Get a life!
~
~ Shut the cell up!
~
No.179
>
<
Thursday, June 09, 2005
It Takes Two Hands To Handle A Whopper
~
Picture in your mind that you are removing the cork from a bottle of wine. You will hear that creaking sound as the cork and bottle neck protest separation. Finally your efforts are rewarded with an explosion of release - that familiar "pop." Now, if you will, hold on to that image until you have read a little more.
~ This was too funny to keep to myself. It was an occurrence that just begged to be captured on video. Because I had no recording device at hand, I felt I had to first set the scene for you. Perhaps then you place yourself by my side and experience it first hand. The scene: a Burger King parking lot on a hazy hot and humid afternoon. Backdrops: My truck, a maroon '98 Sonoma. Her vehicle, an '04 red and white Mini Cooper. The cast: Me. Her. Props: me, a Double Whopper w/cheese, a large onion ring, and a vanilla shake. Her, orange pants.
~ Now that we have established the scene and the cast has been identified, it is time for you to call upon the imagery of that cork being removed from the wine bottle.
~ As you know, it takes two hands to handle a Whopper. With that culinary concoction advancing to face the onslaught of my teeth, I was savoring the first mouthful. Have you ever seen a conveyer belt or an escalator stop suddenly? Well there it was, that virginal burger suspended in my hands, short of its destination, unmindful of mouth agape. As if someone had hit the pause button, it was if I were in suspended animation.
~ My eyes, however were busy, still filming he spectacle unfolding before me. The aroma of the hovering Whopper continued to waft, causing my mouth to water and my stomach to growl at the impromptu stoppage. Still rolling, my eyes recorded in vivid detail that which you are about to read. The woman in the Mini Cooper was attempting to extract herself from the car. Her international orange pants evoked thoughts of Linus' Great Pumpkin! To say this woman had a large derriere would be to understate the obvious. Believe you me, she was in need of a back up bell!
~ It is now that you should concentrate on the image of that cork and wine bottle. It is now that the "creaking" has started. The building pressure and resistance of door and hips are nearing the point that something has to give!
~ The growing crowd you see have not gathered waiting for you to pour them some fruit of the vine. Three or four people stopped on the lot near our two vehicles. Whether they were amused by what they were witnessing, or had stationed themselves close by if their help might be needed, I am not certain. From my passenger mirror, I had my doubts about how much help they would be, because I saw no winches or block and tackle among them.
~ The creaking was more pronounced, something was surely about to give. I was compelled, but did not, yell "Thar she blows!" If an intent audience can be considered fanfare, so it was we heard the "pop!" She was free! I assume those in back of us resisted the temptation to go into a boisterous round of applause. In fact, they were gone.
~ It was then that I saw the person attached to the backside. Folds of flesh bulged from what I assumed was the waist of those orange pants, and from beneath and above a purple halter top. I wasn't sure if I should have been turned off by the flesh, her color scheme, or the wardrobe itself.
~ Salvation was mere inches from my still gaping mouth. The Whopper was still suspended where it had stopped before, clasped in my two hands awaiting further orders. My brain finally meshed the gears and set the mechanisms of my arms into motion. The Great Pumpkin and the bottle of wine slowly faded into my subconscious mind.
~ I practically inhaled that Whopper! If it were possible to have absorbed the thing by osmosis, I would have done so. I was of the mindset that I did not wish to see the woman return. I had no desire to see how many bags of food she would be carrying upon the return to her car.
~ I shuddered as I was pulling out of the parking lot. For some morbid reason, I had begun to picture her attempting to get back inside of that little car. Imagine, if you will, trying to put that cork back into the bottle! Need I say more?
~ God bless her husband, that is if she was indeed married! I certainly hope that he too is a large person. It would help too if Mr. Great Pumpkin had a pair of rather large hands. As you know, it takes two hands to handle a Whopper!
~
No.178
Picture in your mind that you are removing the cork from a bottle of wine. You will hear that creaking sound as the cork and bottle neck protest separation. Finally your efforts are rewarded with an explosion of release - that familiar "pop." Now, if you will, hold on to that image until you have read a little more.
~ This was too funny to keep to myself. It was an occurrence that just begged to be captured on video. Because I had no recording device at hand, I felt I had to first set the scene for you. Perhaps then you place yourself by my side and experience it first hand. The scene: a Burger King parking lot on a hazy hot and humid afternoon. Backdrops: My truck, a maroon '98 Sonoma. Her vehicle, an '04 red and white Mini Cooper. The cast: Me. Her. Props: me, a Double Whopper w/cheese, a large onion ring, and a vanilla shake. Her, orange pants.
~ Now that we have established the scene and the cast has been identified, it is time for you to call upon the imagery of that cork being removed from the wine bottle.
~ As you know, it takes two hands to handle a Whopper. With that culinary concoction advancing to face the onslaught of my teeth, I was savoring the first mouthful. Have you ever seen a conveyer belt or an escalator stop suddenly? Well there it was, that virginal burger suspended in my hands, short of its destination, unmindful of mouth agape. As if someone had hit the pause button, it was if I were in suspended animation.
~ My eyes, however were busy, still filming he spectacle unfolding before me. The aroma of the hovering Whopper continued to waft, causing my mouth to water and my stomach to growl at the impromptu stoppage. Still rolling, my eyes recorded in vivid detail that which you are about to read. The woman in the Mini Cooper was attempting to extract herself from the car. Her international orange pants evoked thoughts of Linus' Great Pumpkin! To say this woman had a large derriere would be to understate the obvious. Believe you me, she was in need of a back up bell!
~ It is now that you should concentrate on the image of that cork and wine bottle. It is now that the "creaking" has started. The building pressure and resistance of door and hips are nearing the point that something has to give!
~ The growing crowd you see have not gathered waiting for you to pour them some fruit of the vine. Three or four people stopped on the lot near our two vehicles. Whether they were amused by what they were witnessing, or had stationed themselves close by if their help might be needed, I am not certain. From my passenger mirror, I had my doubts about how much help they would be, because I saw no winches or block and tackle among them.
~ The creaking was more pronounced, something was surely about to give. I was compelled, but did not, yell "Thar she blows!" If an intent audience can be considered fanfare, so it was we heard the "pop!" She was free! I assume those in back of us resisted the temptation to go into a boisterous round of applause. In fact, they were gone.
~ It was then that I saw the person attached to the backside. Folds of flesh bulged from what I assumed was the waist of those orange pants, and from beneath and above a purple halter top. I wasn't sure if I should have been turned off by the flesh, her color scheme, or the wardrobe itself.
~ Salvation was mere inches from my still gaping mouth. The Whopper was still suspended where it had stopped before, clasped in my two hands awaiting further orders. My brain finally meshed the gears and set the mechanisms of my arms into motion. The Great Pumpkin and the bottle of wine slowly faded into my subconscious mind.
~ I practically inhaled that Whopper! If it were possible to have absorbed the thing by osmosis, I would have done so. I was of the mindset that I did not wish to see the woman return. I had no desire to see how many bags of food she would be carrying upon the return to her car.
~ I shuddered as I was pulling out of the parking lot. For some morbid reason, I had begun to picture her attempting to get back inside of that little car. Imagine, if you will, trying to put that cork back into the bottle! Need I say more?
~ God bless her husband, that is if she was indeed married! I certainly hope that he too is a large person. It would help too if Mr. Great Pumpkin had a pair of rather large hands. As you know, it takes two hands to handle a Whopper!
~
No.178
Food Fight
~
No, this isn't what you are thinking. If you are hungrily preparing to read this article because you are expecting projectiles of food stuff, you will be disappointed. No fruits or vegetables were harmed during the composition of this blog. There will be no pies in the face. There will be no banana peel prat falls either.
~ This is about taste. It's about choice. It's about differences. If everyone liked the same kind of music, wore the same clothing, drove the same car, and had a palate for the same foods, you would have to agree that it would be an awful boring existence.
~ In a recent blog I made a faux pas, wherein I made an unfounded negative reference to a certain food item. As part and parcel of the same thought process, I made the same reference to a couple of other foods.
~ In that blog, but only as a footnote, I remarked that I resented junk e-mail being called spam, simply because I happened to like Spam. I went on to suggest that they could have called it liver or Brussels sprouts. Then I added tofu and crap as candidates also. It was there that I ended the blog.
~ I was taken to task by a fellow blogger, one who happened to like tofu. While I do qualify my postings that they are opinion and that they are written as satire, I found myself in agreement with my detractor. I suppose I could have stood pat. I could have just as easily treated that dressing-down as one of an irresistible force meeting an immovable object. I could have declared it a stalemate!
~ I did see a flaw in my, as it turned out, misguided statement. There was a significant difference between those three food items, not to mention that other organic substance. I do not like liver and I simply detest Brussels sprouts! I can and will stand firm on those two because I have actually tasted them and found each to be unsavory. As for the tofu,I cannot honestly say that I like or don't like it. For you see, I have never even tasted the stuff.
~ I should also go on the record to state unequivocally, that I have not and never will taste crap! I will not allow myself to subjected to any debate about the culinary standing of the stuff. That it is beneficial to the dung beetle is of no interest to me.
~ In a nutshell, I found that I had no justifiable reason to suggest that tofu should be ranked with liver, Brussels sprouts, or crap for that matter. Not wanting to make a short story long, but then again I've already done that, I edited my blog and removed any mention of tofu from that footnote.
~ I suppose one more concession should be made. The title of this blog is in fact misleading, but I am not going to change it. It still works for me in the context of this and the original blog. I will not change it, even if someone threatens to beat the tofu out of me!
~
No. 177
No, this isn't what you are thinking. If you are hungrily preparing to read this article because you are expecting projectiles of food stuff, you will be disappointed. No fruits or vegetables were harmed during the composition of this blog. There will be no pies in the face. There will be no banana peel prat falls either.
~ This is about taste. It's about choice. It's about differences. If everyone liked the same kind of music, wore the same clothing, drove the same car, and had a palate for the same foods, you would have to agree that it would be an awful boring existence.
~ In a recent blog I made a faux pas, wherein I made an unfounded negative reference to a certain food item. As part and parcel of the same thought process, I made the same reference to a couple of other foods.
~ In that blog, but only as a footnote, I remarked that I resented junk e-mail being called spam, simply because I happened to like Spam. I went on to suggest that they could have called it liver or Brussels sprouts. Then I added tofu and crap as candidates also. It was there that I ended the blog.
~ I was taken to task by a fellow blogger, one who happened to like tofu. While I do qualify my postings that they are opinion and that they are written as satire, I found myself in agreement with my detractor. I suppose I could have stood pat. I could have just as easily treated that dressing-down as one of an irresistible force meeting an immovable object. I could have declared it a stalemate!
~ I did see a flaw in my, as it turned out, misguided statement. There was a significant difference between those three food items, not to mention that other organic substance. I do not like liver and I simply detest Brussels sprouts! I can and will stand firm on those two because I have actually tasted them and found each to be unsavory. As for the tofu,I cannot honestly say that I like or don't like it. For you see, I have never even tasted the stuff.
~ I should also go on the record to state unequivocally, that I have not and never will taste crap! I will not allow myself to subjected to any debate about the culinary standing of the stuff. That it is beneficial to the dung beetle is of no interest to me.
~ In a nutshell, I found that I had no justifiable reason to suggest that tofu should be ranked with liver, Brussels sprouts, or crap for that matter. Not wanting to make a short story long, but then again I've already done that, I edited my blog and removed any mention of tofu from that footnote.
~ I suppose one more concession should be made. The title of this blog is in fact misleading, but I am not going to change it. It still works for me in the context of this and the original blog. I will not change it, even if someone threatens to beat the tofu out of me!
~
No. 177
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Earth Cake!
~
My Aunt Bernice left a legacy that will survive well beyond her many nieces and nephews. My dad said of his sister's gifts that they may well still be around after the next Ice Age. Just in sheer numbers alone, I'm sure he was right.
~ My father was one of fourteen kids raised by my grandparents. Eleven of those had at least two or more children of their own. I have forty-seven first cousins on my father's side of the family alone. My mother's side contributed another eleven. Of those fifty-eight, at last count, there has been one-hundred thiry-six second cousins turned out in the shadows of those West Virginia hills. You would be safe to say that I have more cousins than Jimmy Carter has peanuts!
~ Bernice never forgot a birthday or an anniversary. She kept track of our clan without a computer. Not one of us was ever forgotten when we graduated from High School. No achievement was too insignificant. Right on cue, there she was at the door with one of her prized fruit cakes. Nothing went into her masterpieces unless it was grown naturally from the earth. Dad used to say she mixed eggs with the dirt from her garden. So it came to be, that to this day, her cakes are fondly referred to as Earth Cakes.
~ Seeing one on the table when you came home always caused someone to yell Earth Cake! I understood that in nearly all the homes of my aunts and uncles, there would be a playful enactment of the house being under the siege of an actual earthquake. Someone would grab hold of a doorway and tell everyone to grab something also. Invariably someone would dive under the table for safety.
~ Not many things evoked as many different emotions as Bernice's cakes. There were always the obligatory displays of appreciation in her presence, of course. But once she was gone, a whole phalanx of reactions would come pouring out. Depending on whose house a cake had been delivered, you might see horror. There could be disgust and even nausea. There would be pity targeted at the recipient of the cake. From the youngest of the kids there would be tears, afraid they would be made to eat some of it.
~ If ever there was a reason to dread birthdays, anniversaries, or graduations, it was the pall that one of those cakes would have your name on it! Fortunately over the years, my parents never pulled the old "your mother knows best" of "your father knows best" routines on us. They never made us eat the Earth Cake.
~ There are many family anecdotes surrounding the mystique of Aunt Bernice's cakes. Many of them have become our personal "urban legends." Which were true and which were not became nearly impossible to distinguish through the decades. Nonetheless, seldom was there ever family gatherings that did not feature a sit-around discussions of those cakes.
~ Urban Legends
I did witness one of the cakes falling from the counter onto my mother's big toe. The preacher down the street must have heard the less than Christian cries of pain; if he did he never said anything. Although it wasn't broken, her toe was swollen and bruised. She limped around for months after the Earth Cake had attacked her. My uncle Jack liked to tell everyone that he once used one of the cakes as a stone for his grinder until he could buy a new one. His brother Frank swore that he was still using one as a wheel for his wheel barrow. His son supposedly used one as an anchor for his rowboat. Another cousin said she uses two of them to hold up the badmitton net in her back yard. My Uncle Rex says he has one on his work bench into which he sticks his drill bits and screwdrivers. Another uncle, Max claimed for years that the well in his yard was made entirely from Bernice's cakes. He also said that his wife used one as a doorstop. Aunt Clara said that she planted Petunia seeds in one of hers, and claimed for several years that the flowers came back year after year. Uncle Bill said that his youngest son used a hacksaw to cut off pieces he could use to skip across the pond. I remember my dad asked him how he managed to saw through the thing, because he broke a chisel trying to chip a piece off of it. Aunt Caroline said she put them in her corn patch to keep the crows away. According to her, the crows would break their beaks trying to eat it. Then they would fly away and never return. She said it worked better than that useless scarecrow. Even Bernice's father, my grandfather, got into the act at times. He once said that if the Goodyear company had discovered those cakes, we'd be driving on them instead of rubber. Both my dad and Uncle Jack harvested black walnuts for extra money. Both of them said they used those cakes to crack the shells.
~ So much fun was made of the Earth Cakes, that I suspect there was sibling competition to come up with the best uses they found for those cakes. It seemed that almost every aunt and uncle on any given week had developed a new and clever way to put them to work. I don't know how, but they managed to keep their feelings about the cakes to themselves. It would be many years later before she ever had any inkling of the true popularity of her cakes.
~ The best legend of all, which became the final one, was born nearly forty years later. It was at my father's funeral that Bernice herself came out with an Earth Cake tale of her own. She revealed the fact that she thought her cakes were awful! When she started baking them, it was as a joke. But when she "discovered" that everyone "loved" them, it was then that she stepped up her production of them in earnest. Before she knew it, she was baking them for other important days other than for the holidays. So it was as she and her surviving brothers and sisters gathered around after the funeral to catch up on everyones' lives. In memory of her departed brother, she said what she really thought about those cakes. Who laughed the hardest? Why Bernice, of course! Not only was the joke on her, it was on all of them. She said she was glad that no one ever complained to her. She was glad, too, that she never learned of their clever uses of her cakes. If for any reason over the years she had stopped making them, then that magic gathering at dad's funeral would never have happened. Bidding farewell to my father, the legacy of the Earth Cake, was the string that bound them together.
~
No.176
><
My Aunt Bernice left a legacy that will survive well beyond her many nieces and nephews. My dad said of his sister's gifts that they may well still be around after the next Ice Age. Just in sheer numbers alone, I'm sure he was right.
~ My father was one of fourteen kids raised by my grandparents. Eleven of those had at least two or more children of their own. I have forty-seven first cousins on my father's side of the family alone. My mother's side contributed another eleven. Of those fifty-eight, at last count, there has been one-hundred thiry-six second cousins turned out in the shadows of those West Virginia hills. You would be safe to say that I have more cousins than Jimmy Carter has peanuts!
~ Bernice never forgot a birthday or an anniversary. She kept track of our clan without a computer. Not one of us was ever forgotten when we graduated from High School. No achievement was too insignificant. Right on cue, there she was at the door with one of her prized fruit cakes. Nothing went into her masterpieces unless it was grown naturally from the earth. Dad used to say she mixed eggs with the dirt from her garden. So it came to be, that to this day, her cakes are fondly referred to as Earth Cakes.
~ Seeing one on the table when you came home always caused someone to yell Earth Cake! I understood that in nearly all the homes of my aunts and uncles, there would be a playful enactment of the house being under the siege of an actual earthquake. Someone would grab hold of a doorway and tell everyone to grab something also. Invariably someone would dive under the table for safety.
~ Not many things evoked as many different emotions as Bernice's cakes. There were always the obligatory displays of appreciation in her presence, of course. But once she was gone, a whole phalanx of reactions would come pouring out. Depending on whose house a cake had been delivered, you might see horror. There could be disgust and even nausea. There would be pity targeted at the recipient of the cake. From the youngest of the kids there would be tears, afraid they would be made to eat some of it.
~ If ever there was a reason to dread birthdays, anniversaries, or graduations, it was the pall that one of those cakes would have your name on it! Fortunately over the years, my parents never pulled the old "your mother knows best" of "your father knows best" routines on us. They never made us eat the Earth Cake.
~ There are many family anecdotes surrounding the mystique of Aunt Bernice's cakes. Many of them have become our personal "urban legends." Which were true and which were not became nearly impossible to distinguish through the decades. Nonetheless, seldom was there ever family gatherings that did not feature a sit-around discussions of those cakes.
~ Urban Legends
I did witness one of the cakes falling from the counter onto my mother's big toe. The preacher down the street must have heard the less than Christian cries of pain; if he did he never said anything. Although it wasn't broken, her toe was swollen and bruised. She limped around for months after the Earth Cake had attacked her. My uncle Jack liked to tell everyone that he once used one of the cakes as a stone for his grinder until he could buy a new one. His brother Frank swore that he was still using one as a wheel for his wheel barrow. His son supposedly used one as an anchor for his rowboat. Another cousin said she uses two of them to hold up the badmitton net in her back yard. My Uncle Rex says he has one on his work bench into which he sticks his drill bits and screwdrivers. Another uncle, Max claimed for years that the well in his yard was made entirely from Bernice's cakes. He also said that his wife used one as a doorstop. Aunt Clara said that she planted Petunia seeds in one of hers, and claimed for several years that the flowers came back year after year. Uncle Bill said that his youngest son used a hacksaw to cut off pieces he could use to skip across the pond. I remember my dad asked him how he managed to saw through the thing, because he broke a chisel trying to chip a piece off of it. Aunt Caroline said she put them in her corn patch to keep the crows away. According to her, the crows would break their beaks trying to eat it. Then they would fly away and never return. She said it worked better than that useless scarecrow. Even Bernice's father, my grandfather, got into the act at times. He once said that if the Goodyear company had discovered those cakes, we'd be driving on them instead of rubber. Both my dad and Uncle Jack harvested black walnuts for extra money. Both of them said they used those cakes to crack the shells.
~ So much fun was made of the Earth Cakes, that I suspect there was sibling competition to come up with the best uses they found for those cakes. It seemed that almost every aunt and uncle on any given week had developed a new and clever way to put them to work. I don't know how, but they managed to keep their feelings about the cakes to themselves. It would be many years later before she ever had any inkling of the true popularity of her cakes.
~ The best legend of all, which became the final one, was born nearly forty years later. It was at my father's funeral that Bernice herself came out with an Earth Cake tale of her own. She revealed the fact that she thought her cakes were awful! When she started baking them, it was as a joke. But when she "discovered" that everyone "loved" them, it was then that she stepped up her production of them in earnest. Before she knew it, she was baking them for other important days other than for the holidays. So it was as she and her surviving brothers and sisters gathered around after the funeral to catch up on everyones' lives. In memory of her departed brother, she said what she really thought about those cakes. Who laughed the hardest? Why Bernice, of course! Not only was the joke on her, it was on all of them. She said she was glad that no one ever complained to her. She was glad, too, that she never learned of their clever uses of her cakes. If for any reason over the years she had stopped making them, then that magic gathering at dad's funeral would never have happened. Bidding farewell to my father, the legacy of the Earth Cake, was the string that bound them together.
~
No.176
>
<
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Gunfight at Oak
~
It had begun as a border dispute. Although there were now boundaries and fences, there were still those who longed for free-ranging. Some even went so far as to ignore such laws, opting instead to venture into others' territories. This is the story of one such event. The gunfight at Oak will go down in the lore of the Old East, right up there with the Great Molasses Flood.
~ Collecting returnable bottles and cans has been a source of income for some people for several years. Where once it was the lot of the winos or the homeless to earn some pocket money, it has become the only revenue to many others. Indeed, entire families can be seen patrolling the streets on the mornings of trash collection.
~ Carefully planned routes in each city ward are followed rigidly. Their fleet of shopping carts were set into motion at 4:30 AM. By the time many of us are just rising, the carts are laden with three or four lawn bags bloated with discarded bottles and cans. Three such bags with only cans would yield fifty to sixty dollars at the redemption center.
~ But their idyllic business was threatened about two or three months ago when a rival faction arrived in town. The group, headed by a man I'll call Wong Clanton, wasted no time before moving in on the homesteaders. The patriarch of the other "family," Wight Earp had known this day would come, but insisted that there would be no violence. He would meet with Clanton and begin peaceful negotiations.
~ Although Wong Clanton had shook hands with Wight, he had no intentions of honoring any agreements. That was all too evident three days later when his shopping cart broadsided the one manned by Wight. The ensuing argument ended abruptly when Clanton pulled out a gun and pointed it at Earp's head. Without hesitation, Clanton pulled the trigger!
~ There was no loud retort as the pistol was discharged, but a stream of liquid, however, showered into Earp's face. Clanton had pulled out all the stops, arming himself with a water gun! Earp never confirmed what liquid may have been in the gun, but it was reported that he immediately went home to clan up.
~ The stage was set, the lines had been drawn! It was almost certain that the feud between the Earps and the Clantons would not end there. A showdown was brewing, kindled by by the gun play that day. For several days nothing of any consequence. There had been no sightings of the Clanton's. There had been no incursions into Wight Earp's turf.
~ A week later all that would change. Reports reached the Earp's that several of the Clantons had gathered at the corner of Main St. Ad Oak. This was well within Wight's borders, and he was determined to defend his territory against the interlopers.
~ Except for maybe a supermarket, never had so many shopping carts been seen gathered in one place. The lawn bags were empty, neatly folded on the carts' child seats. No bottles or cans had been collected. Business as usual had been put on hold for the business at hand.
~ Wong Clanton and four of his minions all bore the same type of gun that been used on Earp several days earlier. Those standing beside Earp had their weapons hidden beneath long trench coats, which according to witnesses were London Fogs. It is unclear who actually opened fire first, but in mere minutes hundreds of shots were spraying.
~ Too late, Clanton realized that Earp and his men had shown up loaded for bear. They had foregone pistols, packing instead the high-powered Super Soakers. The skirmish was over. Amid the carnage, it was apparent that Earp had successfully defeated Clanton.
~ The gunfight at Oak, as the battle would become known, will go down in the annals of history. It is the perfect example of good winning over evil, and the oppressed overcoming the oppressor. Yes, it was Wight over Wong!
~
No.175
<
It had begun as a border dispute. Although there were now boundaries and fences, there were still those who longed for free-ranging. Some even went so far as to ignore such laws, opting instead to venture into others' territories. This is the story of one such event. The gunfight at Oak will go down in the lore of the Old East, right up there with the Great Molasses Flood.
~ Collecting returnable bottles and cans has been a source of income for some people for several years. Where once it was the lot of the winos or the homeless to earn some pocket money, it has become the only revenue to many others. Indeed, entire families can be seen patrolling the streets on the mornings of trash collection.
~ Carefully planned routes in each city ward are followed rigidly. Their fleet of shopping carts were set into motion at 4:30 AM. By the time many of us are just rising, the carts are laden with three or four lawn bags bloated with discarded bottles and cans. Three such bags with only cans would yield fifty to sixty dollars at the redemption center.
~ But their idyllic business was threatened about two or three months ago when a rival faction arrived in town. The group, headed by a man I'll call Wong Clanton, wasted no time before moving in on the homesteaders. The patriarch of the other "family," Wight Earp had known this day would come, but insisted that there would be no violence. He would meet with Clanton and begin peaceful negotiations.
~ Although Wong Clanton had shook hands with Wight, he had no intentions of honoring any agreements. That was all too evident three days later when his shopping cart broadsided the one manned by Wight. The ensuing argument ended abruptly when Clanton pulled out a gun and pointed it at Earp's head. Without hesitation, Clanton pulled the trigger!
~ There was no loud retort as the pistol was discharged, but a stream of liquid, however, showered into Earp's face. Clanton had pulled out all the stops, arming himself with a water gun! Earp never confirmed what liquid may have been in the gun, but it was reported that he immediately went home to clan up.
~ The stage was set, the lines had been drawn! It was almost certain that the feud between the Earps and the Clantons would not end there. A showdown was brewing, kindled by by the gun play that day. For several days nothing of any consequence. There had been no sightings of the Clanton's. There had been no incursions into Wight Earp's turf.
~ A week later all that would change. Reports reached the Earp's that several of the Clantons had gathered at the corner of Main St. Ad Oak. This was well within Wight's borders, and he was determined to defend his territory against the interlopers.
~ Except for maybe a supermarket, never had so many shopping carts been seen gathered in one place. The lawn bags were empty, neatly folded on the carts' child seats. No bottles or cans had been collected. Business as usual had been put on hold for the business at hand.
~ Wong Clanton and four of his minions all bore the same type of gun that been used on Earp several days earlier. Those standing beside Earp had their weapons hidden beneath long trench coats, which according to witnesses were London Fogs. It is unclear who actually opened fire first, but in mere minutes hundreds of shots were spraying.
~ Too late, Clanton realized that Earp and his men had shown up loaded for bear. They had foregone pistols, packing instead the high-powered Super Soakers. The skirmish was over. Amid the carnage, it was apparent that Earp had successfully defeated Clanton.
~ The gunfight at Oak, as the battle would become known, will go down in the annals of history. It is the perfect example of good winning over evil, and the oppressed overcoming the oppressor. Yes, it was Wight over Wong!
~
No.175
<
Monday, June 06, 2005
Girth Control
~
A new study by a committee on nutrition has released a preliminary statement today. (I pay attention to these studies. You never know when they will come out with an announcement that Klondike Bars are essential for a long and healthy life.) You might say that findings of that study are quite comical!
~ They have determined that laughter is beneficial in losing weight. (Who knew, laughter is the best medicine!) The statement notes that laughing for at least fifteen minutes every day can burn as much calories found in a brownie. They added that laughing under that guideline could equate to a loss of four pounds a year.
~ Apparently a jovial person is more energetic. It is no secret that exercise burns calories. A healthy dose of comedic relief, combined with a balanced diet will go a long way in helping those who are fighting the battle of the bulge. On the other end of the spectrum, melancholy people tend to eat less than healthy foods, and as such are less likely to exercise.
~ It comes down to humor. So if you want to be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife! Oops! Sorry about that. That last line just sort of fell in place.
~ Read the comics! (Garfield is a good one.) Watch a good funny movie! (I recommend "The Party" with Peter Sellers.) Go see a stand-up comedian at an Improv Revue! (I like Lenny Clark.) Look at your old Prom pictures! (Strike that! Maybe not such a good idea. After all we are looking for laughs here, not tears.)
~ I have an excellent idea! If you really want to drop a few pounds, try reading a funny blog! ("Step into my parlor," said the spider to the fly.) Well, since you are already here, read my blog! (Eat your heart out, Dr. Atkins.)
~ I just realized something. This makes me a nutritionist! Imagine that! Since my services are free, it won't cost you an arm and a leg. All you stand to lose is a few ounces via a healthy dose of guffaws. I will probably have to add a warning notice to my site, though. "Precaution should be observed when reading material on this site. Exposure of more than fifteen minutes could result in looser fitting clothing."
~ Remember to laugh when the world laughs at you. Put down that eclair! Don't unwrap that Twinkie! Leave the candy Kisses in the bag! You don't need that Big Mac and super-sized fries! Just settle back in your chair and click that favorites link that brings you to a site that offers not only humor, but nutrition. This site! Bam! Bam! I guess I'll have to turn it up a notch!
~ This is the place to practice girth control. For nutrition, for your health, and for some laughs, this is the one-stop, all-you'll-need blog. I'll stand by by my product and guarantee that it is 100% fat-free, or your money back!
~
~(Laughter is the shortest distance between two people. - Victor Borge)
~
No. 174
<
A new study by a committee on nutrition has released a preliminary statement today. (I pay attention to these studies. You never know when they will come out with an announcement that Klondike Bars are essential for a long and healthy life.) You might say that findings of that study are quite comical!
~ They have determined that laughter is beneficial in losing weight. (Who knew, laughter is the best medicine!) The statement notes that laughing for at least fifteen minutes every day can burn as much calories found in a brownie. They added that laughing under that guideline could equate to a loss of four pounds a year.
~ Apparently a jovial person is more energetic. It is no secret that exercise burns calories. A healthy dose of comedic relief, combined with a balanced diet will go a long way in helping those who are fighting the battle of the bulge. On the other end of the spectrum, melancholy people tend to eat less than healthy foods, and as such are less likely to exercise.
~ It comes down to humor. So if you want to be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife! Oops! Sorry about that. That last line just sort of fell in place.
~ Read the comics! (Garfield is a good one.) Watch a good funny movie! (I recommend "The Party" with Peter Sellers.) Go see a stand-up comedian at an Improv Revue! (I like Lenny Clark.) Look at your old Prom pictures! (Strike that! Maybe not such a good idea. After all we are looking for laughs here, not tears.)
~ I have an excellent idea! If you really want to drop a few pounds, try reading a funny blog! ("Step into my parlor," said the spider to the fly.) Well, since you are already here, read my blog! (Eat your heart out, Dr. Atkins.)
~ I just realized something. This makes me a nutritionist! Imagine that! Since my services are free, it won't cost you an arm and a leg. All you stand to lose is a few ounces via a healthy dose of guffaws. I will probably have to add a warning notice to my site, though. "Precaution should be observed when reading material on this site. Exposure of more than fifteen minutes could result in looser fitting clothing."
~ Remember to laugh when the world laughs at you. Put down that eclair! Don't unwrap that Twinkie! Leave the candy Kisses in the bag! You don't need that Big Mac and super-sized fries! Just settle back in your chair and click that favorites link that brings you to a site that offers not only humor, but nutrition. This site! Bam! Bam! I guess I'll have to turn it up a notch!
~ This is the place to practice girth control. For nutrition, for your health, and for some laughs, this is the one-stop, all-you'll-need blog. I'll stand by by my product and guarantee that it is 100% fat-free, or your money back!
~
~(Laughter is the shortest distance between two people. - Victor Borge)
~
No. 174
<
Wet Dream (lyrics)
~
~( I heard this novelty song years ago. In fact, I had almost forgotten it altogether. I was checking out some lyrics when I found "Wet Dream." I think it is pretty good with some clever puns. The song was recorded by Kip Addotta. If you ever want the lyrics to novelty songs check out: http://php.indiana.edu/~jbmorris/lyrics.html
~
It was April the Forty-first, being a quadruple leapyear; I was driving in downtown Atlantis.
My Barracuda was in the shop, so I was in a rented Stingray, and it was overheating.
So I pulled into a Shell station; they said I'd blown a seal.
I said, "Fix the damn thing and leave my private life out of it, okay, pal?
"While they were doing that, I walked over to a place called the Oyster Bar. A real dive.
But I knew the owner; he used to play for the dolphins.
I said, "HI GILL!" (You have to yell, he's hard of herring.)
~
Chorus:
~
Think I had a wet dream,
cruisin' through the Gulf stream.
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh. Wet dream.
~
Gill was also down on his luck. Fact is, he was barely keeping his head below water.
I bellied up to the sandbar; he poured the usual:
Rusty Snail, hold the grunion, shaken, not stirred.
With a peanut butter and jellyfish sandwich on the side, heavy on the mako.
I slipped him a fin, on porpoise.
I was feeling good; I even dropped a sand dollar in the box for Jerry's Squids, for the halibut.
Well, the place was crowded. We were packed in like sardines.
They were all there to listen to the big band sounds of Tommy Dorsal.What sole.
Tommy was rockin' the place with a very popular tuna, " Salmonchanted Evening",
and the stage was surrounded by screaming groupers, Probably there to see the bass player.
One of them was this cute little yellowtail, and she was givin' me the eye.
So I figured this was my chance for a little fun. You know, piece of Pisces.
But she said things I just couldn't fathom.
She was too deep, seemed to be under a lot of pressure.
Boy, could she drink. She drank like a...She drank a lot.I said,
"What's your sign? " She said, "Aquarium." I said, " Great! Let's get tanked!"
~
Chorus
~
I invited her up to my place for a little midnight bait.
I said, "C'mon baby, it'll only take a few minnows."
She threw me that same old line: "Not tonight, I got a haddock." And she wasn't kidding, either,
cause in came the biggest, meanest looking haddock I'd ever seen come down the pike.
He was covered with mussels. He came over to me; he said,
"Listen, Shrimp. Don't you come trollin' around here." What a crab. This guy was steamed.
I could see the anchor in his eyes. I turned to him and I said, "Abalone! You're just being shellfish."
Well, I knew there was going to be trouble, and so did Gill, cause he was already on the phone to the cods.
The haddock hits me with a sucker punch. I catch him with a left hook. He eels over.
It was a fluke, but there he was, lying on the deck, flat as a mackerel, kelpless.
I said, "Forget the cods, Gill. This guy's going to need a sturgeon."
Well, the yellowtail was impressed with the way I landed her boyfriend.
She came over to me; she said, "Hey, big boy, you're really a game fish.
What's your name?" I said, "Marlin."
~
Chorus
~
Well, from then on we had a whale of a time. I took her to dinner; I took her to dance;
I bought her a bouquet of flounders. And then I went home with her.
And what did I get for my trouble? A case of the clams.
~
( Well, I like it! )
~
No.173
><
~( I heard this novelty song years ago. In fact, I had almost forgotten it altogether. I was checking out some lyrics when I found "Wet Dream." I think it is pretty good with some clever puns. The song was recorded by Kip Addotta. If you ever want the lyrics to novelty songs check out: http://php.indiana.edu/~jbmorris/lyrics.html
~
It was April the Forty-first, being a quadruple leapyear; I was driving in downtown Atlantis.
My Barracuda was in the shop, so I was in a rented Stingray, and it was overheating.
So I pulled into a Shell station; they said I'd blown a seal.
I said, "Fix the damn thing and leave my private life out of it, okay, pal?
"While they were doing that, I walked over to a place called the Oyster Bar. A real dive.
But I knew the owner; he used to play for the dolphins.
I said, "HI GILL!" (You have to yell, he's hard of herring.)
~
Chorus:
~
Think I had a wet dream,
cruisin' through the Gulf stream.
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh. Wet dream.
~
Gill was also down on his luck. Fact is, he was barely keeping his head below water.
I bellied up to the sandbar; he poured the usual:
Rusty Snail, hold the grunion, shaken, not stirred.
With a peanut butter and jellyfish sandwich on the side, heavy on the mako.
I slipped him a fin, on porpoise.
I was feeling good; I even dropped a sand dollar in the box for Jerry's Squids, for the halibut.
Well, the place was crowded. We were packed in like sardines.
They were all there to listen to the big band sounds of Tommy Dorsal.What sole.
Tommy was rockin' the place with a very popular tuna, " Salmonchanted Evening",
and the stage was surrounded by screaming groupers, Probably there to see the bass player.
One of them was this cute little yellowtail, and she was givin' me the eye.
So I figured this was my chance for a little fun. You know, piece of Pisces.
But she said things I just couldn't fathom.
She was too deep, seemed to be under a lot of pressure.
Boy, could she drink. She drank like a...She drank a lot.I said,
"What's your sign? " She said, "Aquarium." I said, " Great! Let's get tanked!"
~
Chorus
~
I invited her up to my place for a little midnight bait.
I said, "C'mon baby, it'll only take a few minnows."
She threw me that same old line: "Not tonight, I got a haddock." And she wasn't kidding, either,
cause in came the biggest, meanest looking haddock I'd ever seen come down the pike.
He was covered with mussels. He came over to me; he said,
"Listen, Shrimp. Don't you come trollin' around here." What a crab. This guy was steamed.
I could see the anchor in his eyes. I turned to him and I said, "Abalone! You're just being shellfish."
Well, I knew there was going to be trouble, and so did Gill, cause he was already on the phone to the cods.
The haddock hits me with a sucker punch. I catch him with a left hook. He eels over.
It was a fluke, but there he was, lying on the deck, flat as a mackerel, kelpless.
I said, "Forget the cods, Gill. This guy's going to need a sturgeon."
Well, the yellowtail was impressed with the way I landed her boyfriend.
She came over to me; she said, "Hey, big boy, you're really a game fish.
What's your name?" I said, "Marlin."
~
Chorus
~
Well, from then on we had a whale of a time. I took her to dinner; I took her to dance;
I bought her a bouquet of flounders. And then I went home with her.
And what did I get for my trouble? A case of the clams.
~
( Well, I like it! )
~
No.173
>
<
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Crimes of Fashion
~
Now it begins. Memorial Day, the unofficial start of summer has passed. All around people are bursting from their cocoons, shedding the winter attire. But it is not lustrous butterflies that emerge!
~
Is The Circus In Town?
~
The ensuing parades remind one of such festive events as Mardi Gras and Halloween. Leading such parades is usually an elderly gentleman with a paisley shirt and madras Bermuda shorts, complimented with black socks and sandals. Normally he will be accompanied by his wife who sports a large straw hat with daisies in the band, which accentuates the pink floral mu-mu which in turn meets white nurse's shoes at the ankle.
~ People dress in in light clothes to keep cool, not to look or be cool. As unsightly as some are, you find yourself gazing anyway. Maybe it's to get your brain to confirm what your eyes transmitted to it. You try, you fail to justify their choice of wardrobe. Where is Joan Rivers when you need her?
~
Send In The Clowns!
~
I was sitting at a red light as a small procession of three crossed the street without benefit of a walk light. They seemed oblivious to the sudden braking car, the blaring horn, the stream of profanities wafting from the driver's window, and the extended finger letting them know they were number one in his book.
~ The first in line, a small frail old man must have thought it fashionable to combine go-to-church-dress with a casual look. He was wearing a gray sports jacket with red and green plaid atop a pink shirt with a lilac bow tie. The buttoned jacket hid the belt that held up the the knee-high beige walking shorts. Lilac stockings, presumably chosen as a match to his tie, were strapped into brown sandals.
~ Behind him a lanky teen was clippity-clopping along in his flip-flopping sneakers. Showing support, I suppose, for his favorite teams, he had on a NY Yankees cap, backwards of course. A too-large Larry Bird basketball tank top was draped loosely over his skinny frame. The cut-outs for the arms nearly reached his waist line, his talcum-pale ribs exposed. The shirt hanging so low, there was the appearance he may not be wearing shorts. His sockless feet were bearing untied size-13 red Converse sneakers.
~ Bring up the rear of this procession, was a woman maybe in her mid to late thirties. Hatless, her sandy-brown hair framed her overly-made up face from one four-inch hooped earring to the other. She too sported a tank top, a red one, but it clung to her body. A rather large tattoo of a stemmed rose adorned the exposed are of an ample breast. Indeed, both were as much covered as they were exposed. Dangling between them was a gold chain featuring a small cross. Her much too-tight denim shorts would be envied by Daisy Duke. Her long legs terminated in a pair of red 3-inch heels, which matched the tattoo of heart just above her ankle.
~
A Family Affair!
~
It occurred to me as the old man and the teen waited until the woman joined them on the far sidewalk, that I had been watching three generations of fashion mavins! Father, daughter and son, out for a leisurely walk about town, had inadvertently supplied me with the fodder that would become this posting.
~ You can learn a lot by simple observation. Why, I even learned something today! I learned that I had to post-haste throw out my basketball tank tops, as well as those red sneakers in the back of the closet. And, oh yeah, that plaid jacket just has to go!
~
No.172
~
><
Now it begins. Memorial Day, the unofficial start of summer has passed. All around people are bursting from their cocoons, shedding the winter attire. But it is not lustrous butterflies that emerge!
~
Is The Circus In Town?
~
The ensuing parades remind one of such festive events as Mardi Gras and Halloween. Leading such parades is usually an elderly gentleman with a paisley shirt and madras Bermuda shorts, complimented with black socks and sandals. Normally he will be accompanied by his wife who sports a large straw hat with daisies in the band, which accentuates the pink floral mu-mu which in turn meets white nurse's shoes at the ankle.
~ People dress in in light clothes to keep cool, not to look or be cool. As unsightly as some are, you find yourself gazing anyway. Maybe it's to get your brain to confirm what your eyes transmitted to it. You try, you fail to justify their choice of wardrobe. Where is Joan Rivers when you need her?
~
Send In The Clowns!
~
I was sitting at a red light as a small procession of three crossed the street without benefit of a walk light. They seemed oblivious to the sudden braking car, the blaring horn, the stream of profanities wafting from the driver's window, and the extended finger letting them know they were number one in his book.
~ The first in line, a small frail old man must have thought it fashionable to combine go-to-church-dress with a casual look. He was wearing a gray sports jacket with red and green plaid atop a pink shirt with a lilac bow tie. The buttoned jacket hid the belt that held up the the knee-high beige walking shorts. Lilac stockings, presumably chosen as a match to his tie, were strapped into brown sandals.
~ Behind him a lanky teen was clippity-clopping along in his flip-flopping sneakers. Showing support, I suppose, for his favorite teams, he had on a NY Yankees cap, backwards of course. A too-large Larry Bird basketball tank top was draped loosely over his skinny frame. The cut-outs for the arms nearly reached his waist line, his talcum-pale ribs exposed. The shirt hanging so low, there was the appearance he may not be wearing shorts. His sockless feet were bearing untied size-13 red Converse sneakers.
~ Bring up the rear of this procession, was a woman maybe in her mid to late thirties. Hatless, her sandy-brown hair framed her overly-made up face from one four-inch hooped earring to the other. She too sported a tank top, a red one, but it clung to her body. A rather large tattoo of a stemmed rose adorned the exposed are of an ample breast. Indeed, both were as much covered as they were exposed. Dangling between them was a gold chain featuring a small cross. Her much too-tight denim shorts would be envied by Daisy Duke. Her long legs terminated in a pair of red 3-inch heels, which matched the tattoo of heart just above her ankle.
~
A Family Affair!
~
It occurred to me as the old man and the teen waited until the woman joined them on the far sidewalk, that I had been watching three generations of fashion mavins! Father, daughter and son, out for a leisurely walk about town, had inadvertently supplied me with the fodder that would become this posting.
~ You can learn a lot by simple observation. Why, I even learned something today! I learned that I had to post-haste throw out my basketball tank tops, as well as those red sneakers in the back of the closet. And, oh yeah, that plaid jacket just has to go!
~
No.172
~
>
<
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Over 1,000 Served
~
I'd like to think that there have been one thousand satisfied customers to visit this site. It would be nice to think that perhaps in some way they have been at least a little amused. I can't in any way say that this body of work is necessarily informative, it is probably more or less irrelevant.
~ At this time, I would like to thank everyone who has visited my little corner of the internet, especially those of you who have left the kind comments. As much as I enjoy posting them, I relish even more the knowledge that someone has enjoyed reading them. Who ever it was who said a pat on the back can be as rewarding as a raise, must have been already wealthy! I have my own philosophy on praise: Don't applaud, throw money! Seriously, it is rewarding to be acknowledged. Apropos is a well known phrase about the dietary habits of a million flies. So it is, that one thousand blog readers can't be wrong.
~ If my mission, my resolve has been to entertain, I think I have at least in a small way come close to that goal. A chuckle here and a giggle there, or at least a smile, are the results for which I have strived.
~ Of course by continuing to post good blogs, there will be, I feel, those who will come back again. (And again?) To those so foolish, or to those with good taste, I want to thank you personally. Thank you, Greg (Blue), you are a good man. Some who read this can check you out at : http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com. I would be remiss not to mention Peg (Schnoodlepooh). What can I say about you, but tres bien merci and mercy bowcups, mon ami.
~ She offered some good advice that I have taken to heart and to task. From one of her favorite movies, and one I like also, Field of Dreams, there is a well known line, "Build it and they will come." Hence, write it and they will read. If you love animals, you will enjoy visiting her at: http://birddogblog.blogspot.com
~ Besides the head count and the comments, I did receive the ultimate compliment two or three months ago. Catching up on my e-mail one evening, after the deletion of umpteen pieces of spam*, I was surprised to receive a copy of one of my own blogs in a e-mail from my sister. Noting that had been forwarded to twenty other addresses, it felt almost like a crowning achievement! (That blog by the way was "Cliche' College," blog number 12, posted in January.) I will point out that my sister had no idea that the article she thought funny enough to forward to dear brother, was one of my postings. You see, I had not yet informed her that I in fact even had a site!
~ For laughs one day, I went to Google and attempted a search using words in my titles and topics of the blogs. I was curious to see if anything would come up as a search result. Morbid stubbornness or self edification, I'm not sure which motivated me, but I persisted. It took a lot longer than I expected at first. You cannot imagine how many search results appear for "Vermont Teddy Bears!"
~ Finally by using only my blog persona, pointmeister, did I get a list of search results that wasn't onerous or seemingly infinite. I found two references, one a blog and another a submission of a brain teaser to a game site. (The brain teaser was rejected, by the way.) Those two were found within the first fifty of two hundred results that Google had found.
~ Well, that exercise humbled me. I was but a flea on the tip of the tail of Canis Major! There is the universe and there is the blogiverse, and both are unfathomably vast and far reaching.
~ Your, mine and our blogs are most likely discovered by random blog reading. It is the returning reader and their word of mouth references, or those who forward what they come across, that make blogging rewarding.
~ It's true. Build it...They will come.
~
* ( I happen to like Spam. I would like to take exception to unwanted junk e-mail to be given the name spam. Why not liver or Brussels Sprouts? Did they consider ...crap? ) *
~
~* ( Out of deference for Peg, I have graciously editted the last line by deleting "tofu" from the text. While I happen to like Spam, so it is she likes tofu. Point taken and the white flag is raised! Now, as for any lovers of liver and Brussels Sprouts - no way! I am drawing a line here. This is my blog - I don't like liver or Brussels Sprouts - and it is my stomach! )
~
No. 171
I'd like to think that there have been one thousand satisfied customers to visit this site. It would be nice to think that perhaps in some way they have been at least a little amused. I can't in any way say that this body of work is necessarily informative, it is probably more or less irrelevant.
~ At this time, I would like to thank everyone who has visited my little corner of the internet, especially those of you who have left the kind comments. As much as I enjoy posting them, I relish even more the knowledge that someone has enjoyed reading them. Who ever it was who said a pat on the back can be as rewarding as a raise, must have been already wealthy! I have my own philosophy on praise: Don't applaud, throw money! Seriously, it is rewarding to be acknowledged. Apropos is a well known phrase about the dietary habits of a million flies. So it is, that one thousand blog readers can't be wrong.
~ If my mission, my resolve has been to entertain, I think I have at least in a small way come close to that goal. A chuckle here and a giggle there, or at least a smile, are the results for which I have strived.
~ Of course by continuing to post good blogs, there will be, I feel, those who will come back again. (And again?) To those so foolish, or to those with good taste, I want to thank you personally. Thank you, Greg (Blue), you are a good man. Some who read this can check you out at : http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com. I would be remiss not to mention Peg (Schnoodlepooh). What can I say about you, but tres bien merci and mercy bowcups, mon ami.
~ She offered some good advice that I have taken to heart and to task. From one of her favorite movies, and one I like also, Field of Dreams, there is a well known line, "Build it and they will come." Hence, write it and they will read. If you love animals, you will enjoy visiting her at: http://birddogblog.blogspot.com
~ Besides the head count and the comments, I did receive the ultimate compliment two or three months ago. Catching up on my e-mail one evening, after the deletion of umpteen pieces of spam*, I was surprised to receive a copy of one of my own blogs in a e-mail from my sister. Noting that had been forwarded to twenty other addresses, it felt almost like a crowning achievement! (That blog by the way was "Cliche' College," blog number 12, posted in January.) I will point out that my sister had no idea that the article she thought funny enough to forward to dear brother, was one of my postings. You see, I had not yet informed her that I in fact even had a site!
~ For laughs one day, I went to Google and attempted a search using words in my titles and topics of the blogs. I was curious to see if anything would come up as a search result. Morbid stubbornness or self edification, I'm not sure which motivated me, but I persisted. It took a lot longer than I expected at first. You cannot imagine how many search results appear for "Vermont Teddy Bears!"
~ Finally by using only my blog persona, pointmeister, did I get a list of search results that wasn't onerous or seemingly infinite. I found two references, one a blog and another a submission of a brain teaser to a game site. (The brain teaser was rejected, by the way.) Those two were found within the first fifty of two hundred results that Google had found.
~ Well, that exercise humbled me. I was but a flea on the tip of the tail of Canis Major! There is the universe and there is the blogiverse, and both are unfathomably vast and far reaching.
~ Your, mine and our blogs are most likely discovered by random blog reading. It is the returning reader and their word of mouth references, or those who forward what they come across, that make blogging rewarding.
~ It's true. Build it...They will come.
~
* ( I happen to like Spam. I would like to take exception to unwanted junk e-mail to be given the name spam. Why not liver or Brussels Sprouts? Did they consider ...crap? ) *
~
~* ( Out of deference for Peg, I have graciously editted the last line by deleting "tofu" from the text. While I happen to like Spam, so it is she likes tofu. Point taken and the white flag is raised! Now, as for any lovers of liver and Brussels Sprouts - no way! I am drawing a line here. This is my blog - I don't like liver or Brussels Sprouts - and it is my stomach! )
~
No. 171
He Who Laughs, Lasts
~
My Grandfather once said to me:
~ You have two eyes and two ears, but only one mouth; therefore you should observe and listen twice as much as you speak!
~ Actually, my Grandfather never said that; but I'm sure some Grandfather once said that to his grandson. So until one them steps forward to claim that quote, I am keeping it!
~
I once tried walking tall and carrying a big stick, but I ran into someone taller carrying a bigger stick!
~
Life is a long preparation for something that never happens. ( William Butler Yeats)
~ I guess that's true. I've been preparing for the day I hit the lottery ! Well, it hasn't happened yet!
~
It is not true that life is one damn thing after another - it's one damn thing over and over. ( Edna St. Vincent Millay )
~ I can't tell you how many times I have been asked to repaint and wall paper the bathroom!
~
What a good thing Adam had - when he said a good thing, he knew nobody had said it before. ( Mark Twain )
~ I guess that makes Eve he very first plagarist?
~No.170
><
My Grandfather once said to me:
~ You have two eyes and two ears, but only one mouth; therefore you should observe and listen twice as much as you speak!
~ Actually, my Grandfather never said that; but I'm sure some Grandfather once said that to his grandson. So until one them steps forward to claim that quote, I am keeping it!
~
I once tried walking tall and carrying a big stick, but I ran into someone taller carrying a bigger stick!
~
Life is a long preparation for something that never happens. ( William Butler Yeats)
~ I guess that's true. I've been preparing for the day I hit the lottery ! Well, it hasn't happened yet!
~
It is not true that life is one damn thing after another - it's one damn thing over and over. ( Edna St. Vincent Millay )
~ I can't tell you how many times I have been asked to repaint and wall paper the bathroom!
~
What a good thing Adam had - when he said a good thing, he knew nobody had said it before. ( Mark Twain )
~ I guess that makes Eve he very first plagarist?
~No.170
>
<
Friday, June 03, 2005
Sunshine Superman
~
Look! Out in the yard! It's a bird! It's a squirrel! No, it's Sunshine Superman! Yes, it's Sunshine Superman. A strange pedestrian from in the house after a month of rain. Faster than a speeding Dachshund; more powerful than a pull cord on a lawn mower; able to leap the bottom step to a porch. Able to pull weeds with one hand, straighten a kinked garden hose ... And who disguised in shorts and tee shirt, fights the battle against dungarees and jackets ... for vermouth and some ice and a nice summer day!
~
I've been in a sort of a daze the last two days. There has been present an eerie, otherworldly bright light up in the sky. So bright was it that objects were casting shadows. If that wasn't strange enough, there was detectable radiation in the form of heat. One can only hope that those rays are not harmful. It appears that even the local flora has been affected, seemingly overnight more alive, colorful and vibrant than they had been earlier in the week. Even the fauna seems to be less lethargic.
~ It was evident that I was not alone in my bewilderment, indeed others who had ventured outside were looking skyward in awe. Some were staring dumbfoundedly at unneeded umbrellas clutched in their hands. It was as if the dilemma of whether to carry the object or to leave it behind was as perplexing as the coat they were wearing. People like myself who had dressed down into shorts, tees, sandals and sunglasses, were subjected to wide-eyed stares from those clad in foul-weather gear.
~ I was keenly aware of their stares as I walked down the street. There was a spring in my step and a grin on my face. One of Donovan's songs playing inside my head easily trekked to my lips as a melodic whistle where I forgot the words, and gave way to voice on certain lines ... Superman or Green Lantern, ain't got nothing .. on me!
~ I started the day with the windows in my truck rolled down. Please, don't spread this around, we certainly don't want to cause panic, but I even had the air conditioner on! I had already drawn enough attention to myself without news of my scandalous use of the A/C! I probably did pique some curiosity in those who saw me drive by with the windows up. Soon enough normal warmth for the month of June will be accepted. But after weeks and weeks of rain and high temperatures in the 40's, this sudden spate of two consecutive days in the high 70's and low 80's has caught most people off guard.
~ I must confess hat I wasn't the only Sunshine Superman out and about, there were quite a few. There was also a significant number of Sunshine Wonder Women! I must say, that despite the efforts of the Supermen, I didn't see a single one get lassoed by a Wonder Woman's magic riata! I heard no stories that anyone had seen any of the women's Diana Prince alter egos changing into those tight outfits inside the Invisible Robot Plane.
~ We aren't exactly candidates for the Justice League of America, but we do revel in the emergence of a warm summer sun and a nearly cloudless sky. We all live for the sun ...!
~
No. 169
Look! Out in the yard! It's a bird! It's a squirrel! No, it's Sunshine Superman! Yes, it's Sunshine Superman. A strange pedestrian from in the house after a month of rain. Faster than a speeding Dachshund; more powerful than a pull cord on a lawn mower; able to leap the bottom step to a porch. Able to pull weeds with one hand, straighten a kinked garden hose ... And who disguised in shorts and tee shirt, fights the battle against dungarees and jackets ... for vermouth and some ice and a nice summer day!
~
I've been in a sort of a daze the last two days. There has been present an eerie, otherworldly bright light up in the sky. So bright was it that objects were casting shadows. If that wasn't strange enough, there was detectable radiation in the form of heat. One can only hope that those rays are not harmful. It appears that even the local flora has been affected, seemingly overnight more alive, colorful and vibrant than they had been earlier in the week. Even the fauna seems to be less lethargic.
~ It was evident that I was not alone in my bewilderment, indeed others who had ventured outside were looking skyward in awe. Some were staring dumbfoundedly at unneeded umbrellas clutched in their hands. It was as if the dilemma of whether to carry the object or to leave it behind was as perplexing as the coat they were wearing. People like myself who had dressed down into shorts, tees, sandals and sunglasses, were subjected to wide-eyed stares from those clad in foul-weather gear.
~ I was keenly aware of their stares as I walked down the street. There was a spring in my step and a grin on my face. One of Donovan's songs playing inside my head easily trekked to my lips as a melodic whistle where I forgot the words, and gave way to voice on certain lines ... Superman or Green Lantern, ain't got nothing .. on me!
~ I started the day with the windows in my truck rolled down. Please, don't spread this around, we certainly don't want to cause panic, but I even had the air conditioner on! I had already drawn enough attention to myself without news of my scandalous use of the A/C! I probably did pique some curiosity in those who saw me drive by with the windows up. Soon enough normal warmth for the month of June will be accepted. But after weeks and weeks of rain and high temperatures in the 40's, this sudden spate of two consecutive days in the high 70's and low 80's has caught most people off guard.
~ I must confess hat I wasn't the only Sunshine Superman out and about, there were quite a few. There was also a significant number of Sunshine Wonder Women! I must say, that despite the efforts of the Supermen, I didn't see a single one get lassoed by a Wonder Woman's magic riata! I heard no stories that anyone had seen any of the women's Diana Prince alter egos changing into those tight outfits inside the Invisible Robot Plane.
~ We aren't exactly candidates for the Justice League of America, but we do revel in the emergence of a warm summer sun and a nearly cloudless sky. We all live for the sun ...!
~
No. 169
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