The Right In?

Screen Shot 2020-03-06 at 8.18.49 PMAlthough these are delicate subjects, I may still approach them with poor taste.  Voting during this time is absolutely necessary, and is not difficult.  Providing a “Write In” candidate on the ballot isn’t difficult either, particularly as an alternative to our current President.  Witnessing someone enter “Corona Virus” as a Write In entry for the Republican candidate was interesting. I shouldn’t have been looking at her ballot, but she highlighted it with stars as well as a skull and crossbones.  If I knew her, I would have suggested a Mr. Yuck sticker.  One could discern she, literally, wished this virus to defeat the POTUS.  It didn’t make me laugh, but it did make me think.

I can’t sit at this computer and pretend I know much about politics like I know baseball and people in general.  Sometimes, I’ll humor those who attempt to engage me with banter about politics.  If we agree, the conversation may last a few minutes.  If we don’t, I diffuse the subject within seconds unless I feel, even if I disagree, they may have a valid point.  I must then proceed to enlighten them with a fart….not literally, but in a manner where the conversation can either continue with something a little more light hearted, or end with the slam of the phone.  Actually, we can’t even do that anymore because of cell phones.  They are far too precious, and, more importantly, expensive.  (I miss those land lines. ) Think about it.  If some disgusting cave dweller decides to fart in mid-sentence, you must change the subject, unless the conversation is about flatulence.

For no more than five minutes, I’ll listen to a politician on TV drone on in front of strange mobs chanting their names, and I wonder if they are just following those surrounding them or actually listening.  I may watch for seven minutes, but I can only listen for five.  This is when the viewer should have the right to dub in a fart to change the subject, or else I’m changing the channel.

People have the right to love or hate our President.  It’s an essential part of our Constitutional Rights.  It’s America.  However, it’s not always what makes America good or “Great” again.  The current POTUS is clearly a good politician, but in this case, he’s more of a good magician.  He convinces good people to believe in things that make even my dastardly eyes roll and generate “what the F are you talking about” looks.  This POTUS is a great magician, but he is not, and let me be clear, he is not a good man. In fact, I just think he’s abjectly evil.  That’s just my opinion, and a little over the top to some, but I have the right to my opinion. I’ve witnessed him turn friends into enemies and brothers and sisters who once unconditionally loved one another question that love.  What’s good or great about that?

After doing something stupid, which I commonly do, I will remind my wife that I am a good man, I’m just not a very good wizard.  She laughs and agrees.  I’m also extremely good at apologizing, because I’ve had to do it frequently over the course of my 47 year career as a human.  Can you imagine the POTUS apologizing for anything?  No.  That’s flat out shameful.

Contrition is a valuable commodity.  Embrace it.  (Let’s not even start talking about humility….HA!) Admit when you’re wrong and repent when you are wrong again.  I don’t think that’s in the Constitution, but it should be.  It usually garners some form of respect, for which I have none of for the POTUS.

“Fart proudly.”  That’s a direct quote from Benjamin Franklin.

 

Phone calls and Chocolate

Will you go with me?   Those were the five most romantic words many would hear, write or say when growing up in Smokane, Washington.  What did it mean?  Well, when in the 5th grade, I guess it meant you had exclusive rights to senseless and meaningless conversations with this person when school was over for the day.  Ninety nine percent of the couples acted like they didn’t even like each other.  I guess that was solid foreshadowing for marriage.

Stuck in traffic, on her way back from her new job as a weight calibrator for Big 5 Sporting Goods, my wife and I were talking on the phone.  Yes, she was hands free.  Since it was her first day on the job, we were going to celebrate that night.  So, I did something I never did when we were friends in junior high.  I asked her to go with me.  Of course, she asked where I wanted to go, so I had to remind her of our childhood days when people would ask others to go with one another, meaning go steady with one another.  Initially, she said she’d have to think about it, but when I told her I was cooking one of her favorite dishes, creamy parmesan chicken, she said yes.  It then came to her attention that I never asked her to go with me when we were in the 8th grade.  One, I just thought it was stupid, and two, our phone at home was only used for my guy friends and my father when he’d come home from work.  That line would remain free because he was the first called when the business he worked for had a break in.  Their security system, Sonitrol, would call dad before they would call the police.  Anyone on our phone phone would soon hang up before he entered the door.  We even used teamwork to keep the old man happy.  I would be close to the door where I could still see the ballgame and picture window at the same time when he’d arrive.  Tom would be in the upstairs kitchen guzzling milk from the carton, and Greg would be on the phone in the kitchen talking to either a girlfriend or guy pal.  Upon arrival, I’d shout to Tom, “The old man’s home!”, and Tom would give the hand signal to Greg who would quickly hang up so we could give the old man a proper greeting.  So, any chance I’d have to talk to Britt, who had her own phone in her room, would have to be at school.  It presented a minor, yet significant challenge to our relationship.

Even though in the eighth grade we weren’t, legally,  a couple, everyone knew we were steady.  It wasn’t until she broke up with me that same year that I finally found out we were actually a couple.  That took a whole new wheel off our wagon, and it would become a different story altogether…a story I will bore you with on a different day.

On the long commute home, Britt asked me if I ever went with someone before her.  Sadly, my answer was yes.  In the 5th grade, I befriended a girl during recess.  Although it was innocent, we still had to hide our innocence from the recess Nazis.  You know, the old stay at home motherly bags abusing their power because they wore paper mach’e badges.  No swearing.  (now referring to Cool Hand Luke) That’s a night in the box.  No fighting.  That’s a night in the box.  No spitting.  That’s a night in the box.  No kissing.  That’s a night in the box.  No winking.  That’s a night in the box.  Oh boy, did they love having that power.  I was once sent to the principal’s office for spitting while playing baseball during recess.  Thank the Lord we had a reasonably smart principal or warden.  When I admitted guilt regarding the crime I committed, he quickly rolled his eyes and told me to get back to the ball field and only spit when they aren’t watching you hit home runs.  We both laughed and I knew he had larger issues to deal with as did I with this girl.

This friend of mine, Shelby, was very nice, smart and also funny.  Three terrific qualities.  I think she felt the same about me.  However, she was a bit more mature than me.  I thought we could have fun hanging out on recess, but only as friends.  Not so fast.  During reading class, while I had finished my school work early, I was busy reading one of the classics……..Mad Magazine, when I was handed a note looking like it had come from the office containing a chocolate bar.  The note also contained a message reading, “Will you go with me?  Signed by Shelby.  I wanted to answer no to the question, but I also wanted to eat that bar of chocolate more than one of my mother’s delightful rice crispy treats.  Therefore, how could I feel good about myself by answering no? So, ignorantly, I answered yes and gobbled up that delicious treat like a crow on a peanut.  I guess I had a girlfriend. (Looking back in intelligent retrospect, I should have answered no, ate the chocolate and went to confession admitting my guilt and saying ten Hail Marys.  Sin forgiven.  Isn’t Catholicism sensational?)

Shelby had her own phone and now wished to call my home.  When a girl calls a boy at our house, sirens blare and brotherly and sisterly vultures swarm your presence.  Nothing but awkwardness.  She did call twice. The first was during dinner, so I had a legitimate excuse to end the call quickly.  The second one was a little more interesting.  I answered the phone, wishing it wasn’t her, with a not so suave, “Hello”.   It was Shelby,  and the first sentence she uttered was, “I heard you broke up with me.”  Now, that day, being very uncomfortable “going with” someone,  I had mentioned to a guy friend I was probably going to break up with Shelby.  Evidently, this person I confided in gave her the grave news before I could.  So, when confronted on the phone by Shelby, meekly, I said, “Yeah.  Is that ok?.  Thankfully, she was cool about it.  No tears, no screaming, just a simple, “Ok.  See you tomorrow.”  It was that easy.  (Why can’t divorces be this easy?)

We remained only friends even through high school and I was even invited to her wedding years later.  Just like in the Hunchback of Notre Dame, when the townspeople were leery of the relationship the Hunchback had with the gypsy girl, Quasimodo, said with an uneasy and defensive tone, “Twas the gypsy girl, she gave me water.”,  I could, properly, during that 5th grade relationship with Shelby,  say, “Twas the gypsy girl, she gave me chocolate.”

Over and out.

Blow Me???

After researching the phrase “blow me” at the pubic Seattle library on 5th and Cherry lane, I was blown away by what this means.  Forgive me for being a Saint.

Although being an over actor, I’ve enjoyed Mel Gibson in a very small fist of features.  My wife made fun of him once for him recommending that his wife should blow him.  Mel should have enough money for central air or even a fan.  I just didn’t understand why MG was so upset while screaming, as though suffering through an asthma attack, he required someone or something to blow on him.

My wife and I have struggled recently with text messages.  She doesn’t receive any of them.  The last time we texted, she just asked if would send her a quick message so she could reply.  Rather that texting a simple “hi”, I immediately tossed out, “you should blow me!!”  Accidentally, as usual, and grossly, the message was sent to one of my sisters.  Good grief.  All of my six sisters have terrific senses of humor, but this just came out,  flat out weird.

Ironically, the sister I sent this to has been married to an Australian for almost over 30 years.  She thought it was funny.

G’day.

Cinnamon Rolls and Chili

Brown bagging was my roll.  However, suffering from PB and J after four straight days, I could then use those sandwiches as currency when someone in the cafeteria placed a corndog in front of me.  Working it properly, I said if they tossed in a homemade cookie, it would seal the deal.

My older sisters and brothers grew up without brown bags.  They developed a hankering for cinnamon, chili, mashed potatoes with gravy and pizza from the lunch ladies pre-dating the ones dropping cigarette ashes in the plum pudding.

After lunch, my siblings would drop their cell phones, I phones, I pods, and I can’t read or  write without my own pods, (none of which existed at that time) and burn those cafeteria calories on the playground.

 

 

 

Overrated

Without disclosing how I voted, I find certain observations by the person who will hold the highest position in the world relatively overrated.  That doesn’t mean I necessarily agree with some people, places and things he believes to be overrated or fake. I just think some of his true comments are funny.  So, let’s laugh for the next four years before I run for President…….of some undisclosed or, “fake” nation.

 

“Midwestern ice storms are overrated.”

“Christmas is way overrated.  Who is this Jesus guy?”

“Carrots are overrated.  They don’t improve your eyesight.  Just ask Bugs Bunny.”

“Chess is overrated.”

“Gandhi should have eaten more.”

“Cassius Clay was clearly overrated.”

“I’ve never heard of Babe Ruth, but I bet he was overrated.”

“Lou Gehrig was a phony. That disease is overrated.”

“Great White Sharks are overrated.  Jaws was fake. Just look at the footage.  It’s comical.”

“Rocky is real.”

“The Moon doesn’t exist ……respectfully, for those who thought they walked on it.”

“Hacking, unless properly utilized, is overrated.”

“Bigfoot does exist, just in case you were wondering.  I can’t prove it.  I can’t prove anything.”

” And lastly, and most critical, Cheetos are overrated.  The mascot is not Tony the Tiger.”

Only because he will destroy our country, or make it better, as an American voter, I will root for him, but I won’t kiss his lucky tower.

This puny world can exist without Barnum and Bailey’s elephants, but we can also exist without this clown.

 

 

 

Hell Phones

God has officially declared that cell phones are evil.  (Chapter 13, verse 2016.)  Why would they be burning up or blowing up in your face if the devil wasn’t involved in the process?

Sitting in the park and texting a friend or relative is acceptable in God’s mind.  Walking across a street staring at your cell phone is unacceptable when there is a clearly placed, “Don’t Walk” signal within view.

I’m all about Jaywalking, but I never have a cell phone in my hand while committing this crime.  It’s resting peacefully in my pocket.