Christmas fun

So, vott I yam tellink you iss diss...upon a time ago, I gotz all da fak-sizz ann denn summ he-mails frumm frenz and peepulz I yam not noing. I den make mine own for da Krissmuss and mebbe yew votch it! Iss almoss Polish but now in countree of Yew Ess Hay. So now pleeze go see at youtube den type in for to see all da fillum at Warsaw's "Knight" Before Krissmuss
I now am tanking yew lotz!

How's YOUR bird? (Orig. 2001)

If your turkey isn't thawed by now, go back to bed and make plans to drop in on someone later. Don't be embarassed...there's always plenty enough to go around, and besides, nobody ever owns enough Tupperware (c) on a holiday...so, they'd end up tossing some of the food anyway.
If you get a newspaper, there will be at least one tear-jerking story written by one of the better columnists. He/she will tell a tale of days of yore...going to grandma's, standing in line at an airport or how life is no longer the same.
If you own a teevee, you'll gather around it with family and friends to watch 5 football games played by 10 colleges you never heard of playing in a bowl game that you'll never remember within 72 hours.
If you're a REAL holiday nut, you'll already be off somewhere to watch a parade. I suppose those are alright. Four years with Uncle Sam...marching everywhere we went...sorry, I just don't do that anymore. The REAL thrill is watching a parade on teevee and having the host give a biography on "This Year's Miss Appledunker" and how she got the award.
If you're a shopper, you'll be smart and memorize all the store sale flyers in today's newspaper, then go back to bed so you'll have the strength to fight all the loonies at the malls tomorrow on the biggest shopping day of the year.
If you've got religion, you might go to a special service at your place of worship to thank your God for all you've got.
If you're an American...if you're not an American but living here...you'll take the time to be grateful for what this land has given you. You might wish to think about those who unknowingly became a martyr in this, the year of the messenger of satan, who selfishly destroyed the lives of so many families. Perhaps that was a wakeup call of some kind and I would hope it caused us to not place a high priority on material things and return to spirituality. I also do not condone the death penalty, but if it thwarts further deeds of this ilk, so be it. All the good books of all religions tell us not to judge and not to kill, yet the misguided greed of a few think they have the right to carry out their own agenda and it is right in their minds.
Try to get out of bed each day with a caring attitude. Making this a better world begins with good acts by one person. Pass on a smile, a nice word, a hug or anything else that will make another feel great. Show your children love and give them every opportunity to tell the truth. Practicing this has a cascading effect on all those around us. Seeing the good it produces will cause them to "pick up the ball" and pass it on. Griping will never cure any problem. Somebody has to do something to start the healing process...why not YOU? Believe it or not, it's not mandatory to step on someone to get ahead...we've just been conditioned to think that way. Being nice is easy. All you have to do is let it happen. Well, what are you waiting for?!?
Have a fantastic day and may this be the first of better days for all of you. God bless.....

It's Daddy's Day!!!

To all the fathers, dads, pops, etc., may this day be a super one! Add to that, all the moms who do it on their own, either by choice or circumstance. Add to THAT, families, friends, fosters, adoptives and relatives who do it because the REAL ones can't or because they have chosen a different lifestyle and can't be "bothered." There are times when we wish our children would stay on the young side. I, for one, love watching them grow. Young is good, but who the heck misses the late hour wake-ups or the pre-potty days? You love, you watch, you love, you teach, you love, you share, you love, you spend, you spend, you spend. You hope they retain MOST of what you teach, and, when they leave the nest, you miss them but you feel great because you know they have a strong foundation. Ego gets a big boost when you see them do well, especially when they do it without asking your opinion. My gosh, they DID listen to some things! After awhile, the phases pass and they begin accepting responsibility. Think about it, you don't see many CEO-s with pierced noses or tongues...THERE IS HOPE!!! Most kids turn out okay...it's just that some of us have to pray a little harder. And, remember this: You get to inflict karma when you become a grandparent! YAY!!!

To Collect a Rare Book

Many people compile words into great readings and we call them books! Over the years, I've managed(?) to amass a small collection of them. When a person decides to down-size, that person makes a list and presents an opportunity for others to own these that are becoming more difficult to find. I will gladly send a copy of the list to anyone interested. The list includes, but is not limited to the likes of: Stephen Foster, Chas. Dickens, Bronte, Victor Hugo, Melville, Noyes, Wells, De Maupassant, O. Henry, Cooper, Grey, Dumas, Steinbeck, Kipling, Austen, Poe and Gann. Copyright dates range from 1881-1962 and there are some that do not show a date. Some have dust jackets, some are 1st issue and 1 or 2 are signed. Quality ranges anywhere from quite nice to "Who did this?" I think I saved a few from the dumpster, even though they'll never get into the Smithsonian. Please contact me at the alternate of bbobjay@ameritech.net. Happy reading!

Happy Bellies in San Francisco---Mangia!!!

She's becoming famouser and famouser! Who might that lady be? I'll get to her in a moment...but FIRST...provenance!

A fraction of an eon ago, an Italian son joined forces with a Polish son in one of the least documented and hardly remembered 4 year stretch in the annals of the United States Air Force. Ask anyone! When they deny any knowledge of the aforementioned dos amigos, they'll indeed be forthrightly forthwith, forsooth, forsaking forty fortnights. Carmen and Bob were the only proponents...upon landing in Viet Nam...of having a silent auction for what appeared to be the world's largest greenhouse at that time. History clearly shows how no one listened to their sound reasoning. (Fast Forward)

Following their amazingly honorable discharges, Carmen and Bob went their separate ways. (This more than likely spared the Bay Area!) (Fast Forward)

In between the woefully too few reunions, they both, somehow, convinced respective ladies to enter into wedlock and bear a few bare butt babies. (REELEE Fast Forward!!!)

I won't recommend anyone or anything unless and until I am comfortable and know I'm dealing with honesty.

Okay...here's the "Who might that lady be?" part. If your plans, or even dreams, include a stay in San Francisco or any part of the Bay Area, you absolutely MUST become well acquainted with...(Drum Roll, please)...
http://www.tablehopper.com/

The publication was conceived and continues to be written by my long-distance best friend, Carmen's daughter, Marcia Gagliardi. Her first name, according to her parents and her, is pronounced the same as, "Garcia" but I like to say, "Mar---SEE---Yuh." Using today's vernacular, wuddever! In short stead, Marcia will totally enchant you with honest critiques, descriptions and all other inclusives, along with names that would make the best red carpet hostesses drool with envy, Dah-ling! Her style is refreshingly easy to understand and there's just enough humor sprinkled in that causes you to wish being there with her! I do believe that, when you access the web site of http://www.tablehopper.com/, you should print it, then close your eyes while someone reads the vignettes to you...how romantic! Happy travels!!!

(Photo is from the Caymans...no creatures were harmed.)

Pleading the 5th

On this date, in 1862, the Mexicans defeated France's Napoleon III at the battle of Puebla.
That being said, why aren't there more Taco Bells in Paris?
And why isn't France erecting a fence at ITS border?

History tells us that Buddha was born on this date. Ya think that's whence the name, "Pot-Bellied Stove?" Judging by some of his caricatures, he might have coined the term, "Fat and Happy."

Also blowing out candles is Karl Marx...no relation to Zeppo, Harpo or Groucho.

Doubling the pleasure: Is there a Top 10 List that explains why Dave has a Top 10 List?

Famous number: 5 finger discount, 5 o'clock shadow, my kid sister, five-n-dime, 5'll getya ten, take 5, 5 to life, gimme 5, high 5, Nine to 5 and I'm sure many others...........

Odd Infinitum: Mother's Day will soon be upon us. Remember to send greetings to all those on YOUR list.

Can You Help Me NOW?!?

I just received a pamphlet from the American Red Cross, in conjuction with my Donor Membership Card. According to the info within:

Only 5% of eligible U.S. population actually donates blood
Only 30% of 1st time donors come back a 2nd time
1 donation can save up to 3 lives

Every 2 seconds, someone in America needs blood

The need is critical

Will it be there when YOU need some?

No KIDDING...Made In America!!!

Lady Sam, (Samantha), whom I've know for nigh on 30 years, has made me proud to announce her venture into formulating, creating, engineering and ecomically providing very special wardrobe attachments and accoutrements for those who appreciate quality and affordability of well-made American goods.

Having spent much of my life in the manufacturing end of domestic and imported articles, coupled with true customer service, I am absolutely, painfully selective when offering a recommendation of anything or anyone. Therefore, here you have it! Please visit her site and be amazed at how easily she can make you happy!

Visitors always welcome at http://www.littlesweetieonline.com/

SAVE ME!!!

It's rare that I see typos in a book, what with Spell-Rite, Spell-Check, et al. Some time ago, I noticed single spacing at the end of each sentence, which was 1 short of all I had been taught in English classes! Born curious and being a counter, ( a whole nuther story), I donned my Polish CSI babushka and happily announce the following, after deciding on what would become the sample average for this installment:

Average book of 200 pages
Average page size of 5-1/4" X 8"
61 characters per line---including spaces
31 lines per page
= 1891 characters per page---including spaces

26 sentences per page
200 pages
= 5200 total spaces

5200 spaces
divided by 1891 characters per page
= 2.7498677 saved pages per 200 page book

So...there IS an environmental benefit! Some quantum-quasi mathematician can extrapolate the number of saved trees. I'm off to another wonder. By the by, the above data resulted from reading, "Dancing Naked in the Mind Field" by Nobel Peace Prize winner, Kary Ellis...a bio-chemist with a great sense of humor...should you choose to believe that! (Seems he also likes to count)

TGINM!!!

In the event you email me today and I'm out and about, please feel free to use any or a combination of the following to satisfy your need for a response:

Wow
Thanks...I wasn't aware of that
Probably chocolate
I'll be sure to pass it on to 9 friends within 14 minutes
I agree
Outlaw decaf and Bridge
Barcolounger
We certainly should
3 speed
I wasn't even aware he/she/it was ill
Purple
That's a crying shame
Window seat
Hooda thunk
Frasier
I feel safer already
The campaign is way too long
My gosh, 15 years already
Buick Roadmaster
Bubble gum taster
Coulda fooled me
Seams to the left
2 weeks
Push broom
Holeee Krapp
Dish and cone
Ed

P.S. There were no reported traffic related injuries during Passover. Kudos to those who celebrated the unabridged version, thereby keeping folks at home! Shalom!

Taking Time To Take Time...from 2006

A recent newspaper article announced that America has become an "Impatient Nation." According to an Associated Press poll, "Americans want it all now. Or awfully close to now." With time, I've learned to be aware of what is around me, and, when you're "there", you act in response to what has been presented. In certain circumstances, the result can be overwhelmingly comedic.

In the fall of 1976, I purchased the last of the "Big Ones"...a 1976, 2 door Pontiac Bonneville. Penelope, as I came to call her, was a light metallic blue and the roof was padded under a white leather-like material on the rear portion. Penelope was a looker! She had all the factory power one could get at the time, including air conditioning, power windows, power seats, tilt wheel, cruise control...AND...an AM-FM radio with a built-in 8 Trak tape player. Talk about the cat's meow! Having grown up without air conditioning, I seldom used it when driving solo. My all-time favorite was the cruise control option. Often, I joked about engaging it on our long driveway. The route from home to business was via Canal Road, which, incidentally, paralleled the Ohio Canal. Since I'm drawn to studying weird subjects, I determined that if I set the cruise control at 38 miles per hour, I could arrive at work without catching any of the traffic lights on red. Being but 3 miles per hour over the posted speed limit pretty much assured not being stopped by any of the local police departments, who usually had radar setups along the way.

One morning, my commute became inordinate when I noticed a car so close behind me that I could barely see his hood ornament in the rear view mirror. Included in the view was an irate man who was waving his fisted hand akin to one of those old wind-up tin toys of a monkey banging a drum. Since I didn't have time to explain my methodology, I continued as always. On an occasional glimpse into the rear view mirror, my "tail-gaiter" continued his tirade. As luck would have it, I did indeed catch a red light. My tail-gaiter maneuvered into the left turn lane and I stayed the course. (Here's the good part, if you remember what I said at the outset.) At a precise moment only fate or God can determine, our eyes met and I felt compelled to zip down the power window. In turn, Mr. Upset zipped down his passenger side power window, most likely to question my lack of paternal connection. The seventies form of road rage did not include shooting. Before he could utter one syllable, I asked, "Why are you in such a hurry to arrive at a job you probably hate?" Milli-seconds passed. His face then adopted that look of, "Holy Crap!" and he broke up laughing as would one who just heard a Don Rickles comeback. When the light became green, he waved and we each continued to do another day on earth. I sometimes wonder if he quit his job that day or changed his attitude.

Years passed and I found myself living in the quaint city of Berea, Ohio, smack in the path of railroad lines connecting Detroit and Cleveland. The main drag, Bagley Road, had twin tracks cutting across. Front Street, which took commuters to the airport and the interstate into Cleveland, had 2 separate sets of twin tracks. Drivers were doomed to sit at least once per day at one of those crossings. Hundreds of trains passed through Berea each day, around the clock, and one simply could not time any intervals because there were none! When it was my turn to sit, I'd merely put the transmission into "Park" and enjoy the fate or God given time to rest. Observing those around me, I saw many people waving a fisted hand akin to one of those old wind-up tin toys of a monkey banging a drum. Did they really think the train's conductor cared if they were late for the hair salon appointment? Did they really think the train's conductor would stop and separate the cars for them? What did they think? I snickered very often during those respites.

I like the self checkout provided by the grocery stores. Yet, I still enjoy the conversation with a human at the register and those in line with me. If there's a delay, there again is another time to rest and reflect. Too many of us can't or won't see those opportunities.

How sad.

Observations & Ponderings 4-24-08

We celebrated Earth Day on the 22nd…humankind’s attempt at reducing waste, thereby saving the planet. Would the same term be used on the 7th planet from the sun or would they hopefully opt for another word?

“You know” is interjected so seldom these days, that it now catches our attention when it’s invoked. Remember when Mark Spitz did it so much that it caused sponsors to stop using him as a spokesman? Another phrase dying a slow death is, “Duh.” Fret not, it’s already been replaced by, “I mean.” Many folks use it and it makes no sense. Troy Aikman said it about 7,000 times during the past football season playoffs. I’m wondering when we’ll see the demise of, “and also.” Not to be outdone is, “I was gonna say” followed by the person saying what they were gonna say! Let us not overlook those who say, "exactly" instead of the good, old-fashioned, "yes!"

While watching “Friends” on late night teevee, do you find yourself doing that 4 clap thingie during the musical intro?

Cubans are now allowed to have a cell phone. Annual contract cost is equal to about 6 months wages. Phone and time charges are extra. That probably takes care of the other 6 months wages. Wotta world..."Ola, Juan...I'm dying of hunger-o, but I gotta phone!"

TeeVee commercial: Nivea says to rub their product on to prevent or get rid of cellulite. The women in the commercial look to be no older than 18 and I'd be surprised if they weighed any more than the average anorexic.

Bait & Bait: Read the small print on any car commercial. "Starts at $19,222......Model shown $37,489" or words to that effect. Okaaaaaaaaaay!

Wake UP, baseball! The term should be, "RsBI." They all say, "RBIs." That being true, why don't they pronounce it as, "Run Batted Ins?"

C, C and C

People who fly out of bed and hit the floor on the run have either an underdeveloped bladder, are in search of something to do or in dire need of counsel.

Me? The preference is that 4-letter word…s-l-o-w. Allow the body to awaken piece by piece. Stretch. Fantasize that I’m Bill Gates and whisper, “Boy, I am REELEE RICH!” Unlike Billy Crystal, who wrote that he has a good pee, then gets out of bed…I do the opposite. Still foggy in the brain and unaware yet of evil people, I slowly stoke the personal furnace with Comics, Coffee and Crossword.

Ides Of April

No time to relax
Nigh the day of tax
Robins return
Crocus dots the lawn
Winnipesaukee ice retreats
A daring Harley on the streets
White, then brown snow melts
Baring again rock boundaries
Hills become temporary streams
Frost heaves abound
Streets grow
From receding snow
Parking spots re-appear
New buds grace tree limbs
As a woodpecker sets a din
Bring the spring
Oh God above
Spread Thy color
And the season’s love

Archived Obituary---Goodbye, Old Friend.....

There won’t be any flowers or a casket at this funeral. The lone pall-bearer will be a tow-truck driver. Interment will be at B & O Auto Parts. Certain organs might be salvageable and will be legally sold, not donated. The “Old Gray Mare” didn’t have a heart, per se, but did she EVER have compassion!!!

She passed on Thursday, June 3rd, 1999 at 4:30 PM. Born in Berea’s First Congregational United Church of Christ, she was the first motorized child of the outreach program called Church Street Ministries.

For eleven years, she worked out of this very small church, doing what even the largest organizations do not---DELIVERING food, clothing, furniture, appliances, beds, holiday packages and many other items to the needy throughout Cuyahoga County and, on occasion, outside the county.

The “Old Gray Mare”, since 1988, delivered more that 500,000 pounds of goods to those who had no means of transportation---natural disasters, fire victims, refugees, those displaced from abuse, recovering addicts and alcoholics, mentally and physically challenged, homeless people trying to resurrect their lives, the many good folks caring for their abandoned grand-children, homes for single parents and a ton of others.

During her 11 years, she serviced more than 9,000 people. She also chauffeured many hundreds of kids to work camps across the country where they learned to interact with people of different cultures, colors, religions and ethnic backgrounds. The “Old Gray Mare” was a traveling classroom wherein people of all ages both volunteers and court appointed community service men and women could learn the ABC’s of St. Matthew, chapter 25, verse 35---feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick.

She did all this and so much more but at 4:30 on Thursday, June 3rd, 1999, she drove the last of 130,674 compassionate miles. She physically and mechanically ran out of gas. Sure, there will be another van to support the mission of this tiny church and it will continue so long as there are those who need help---and the generous people, churches and organizations who helped purchase and maintain her. We’ll definitely miss “The Old Gray Mare”. May she “rust” in peace.

Toil in the Soil aka Garden Critters

Scanning the world of blogs prompted this offering to pass along that which I’ve learned from other gardeners and self-experimentation.

My veggie garden was on a 3-acre lot where my in-laws lived. The back end of all the residential properties abutted a golf course. Give or take, most lots were 1200 feet deep in that nice village. My guess is that the rear 800 feet of each property was left as natural. Being that hunting was prohibited, it was awesome to watch the abundance of fox, deer, squirrel, skunk, groundhog and multitude of birds and butterflies enjoy what was theirs.

Year 1 of the garden was akin to a child at Christmas: Pumpkin vines with leaves as large as elephant ears; Tomatoes that quickly outgrew the stakes; Kohlrabi resembling a softball with hair; Carrots with palm tree sized tops; Green peppers that looked like small bird cages! Somewhere is a photo of my favorite daughter standing on my shoulders trying to reach the sunflower blossoms! OOO yeah…it was a garden to “die for!” The stress of work was quickly gone each day when I’d toss the suit, don the jeans and head for my evening therapy to pull a weed, plant a seed or turn one of three compost piles. Many, many jars were filled with a bountiful harvest for northern Ohio winter meals. All was good!

Year 2 of the garden was akin to a child at Christmas watching Sheriff McJailem put all the furniture on the tree lawn because dad couldn’t make the mortgage payments. It was probably mid May, (although I don’t care to remember exactly), when I tossed the suit, donned the jeans and headed out for my evening therapy to pull a weed, plant a seed and turn a compost pile. (This is where you squeeze the arms of your La-Z-Boy) Near as I can figure, one of the animals noticed the neat rows of growth anywhere from 2” to 8” high. They didn’t observe my garden earlier because animal brains are fairly small and since they don’t read or play video games, their cells are used for survival and where to sleep at night. “Whichever” animal must have sauntered over, sampled the odd looking row of strangers and uttered, “OH-----MY-----GAWD!!!” That then HAD to be followed by a shout of, “Hey GUYS, Bob’s got lots of goodies here!” (Can you just picture all of God’s creatures with knife and fork, wearing a napkin around the neck?)

I absolutely remember standing slack-jawed, totally paralyzed, eyes unable to blink. It was 1000% worse than the first dent on your new car or even a “Dear John” letter, if you know what THAT is. There IS humor in le calamitie! I honest to Buddha remember whispering, “Look how neat the deer were…nothing trampled…hoof prints on each side of each row.” If not for grocery stores, we all would have perished during that bitter northern Ohio winter of nineteen hundred seventy-whenever.

Being 2nd generation American of mostly Polish, ergo stubborn, ancestors, Year 3 of the garden required an entirely different farming methodology while still respecting those whose land I invaded. By the way, since nature dictates it WAS the land of the animals, garden rustling charges were never filed.

For years, I was an avid reader of Organic Gardening Magazine…testing and implementing lots and lots, (garden humor), of suggestions proven true by trustworthy “old-timers.” I also listened to advice from those anxious to share. What follows will hopefully save you time, energy and an evening with myocardial infarction.

Rabbits: To prevent burrowing, I dug down 18” and installed quality chicken coop wire fencing. Bunnies are cute, but since you don’t see them driving a John Deere, you need not spend extra $$$ on a deterrent. They’ll back off when that wiggly nose touches the fence.

Groundhogs: Dumb as a shingle and twice as stubborn…you have to wonder about a creature rushing up to date a 70 MPH Michelin Radial! If you have many of these, stay with an 18” trench, BUT, use a cyclone-style fence. Not familiar? It’s used for keeping your children at school during the day. Groundhogs WILL ga-naw through chicken wire. They don’t just appear and their tunnels can be fairly long. If you find a burrow opening in your garden, the most humane method is to turn the garden hose on high to make sure the critter is no longer in the tunnel. Once evicted, the other end of the tunnel must be blocked with heavy stone or cinder blocks. These buggers will try to hide their tunnel entrance, so look under bushes, etc., or have someone watch for the stream while you run the garden hose. Odds are, he’ll move on. If he persists by digging another tunnel, you’ll have to repeat the process.

Deer: Allritey then! If you and your neighbors have a great, and I DO mean great, sense of humor and can live with my ethnic G=mc theory, (Garden = Much Care), with practical application, this will give you peace of mind! I installed a steel fence in an easy paced weekend. The posts were the style you drive in with a sledgehammer. You’ll need a brave assistant for steadying the post and wielding a level. The material was a round gage having holes just right for deterring most anything but a mouse…and what can THEY carry off? Okay, now you have a 4’ fence to protect the crop! Following installation of said fence, I was bragging to one of the locals about my newfound expertise. He, without losing a breath as he spat a full ounce of cherry flavored Mail Pouch into a Campbell’s can some 9 feet away, mumbled, “Deer kin jump more’n 4 feet, ya know.”

“ARGH!!!” Followed by, “What to do, what to DO?!?” Think, Bob, THINK! Whenever I find myself at a loss on similar problems, I hurry to the garden supply store, but not just ANY garden supply store. Petitti’s was my mainstay because he worked the “floor” when he started and never laughed at a question. To this day, you can still see Angelo doing his “thing” even though he has a bazillion acres and his own growing farms. There I am, slowly walking…looking super intelligent to anyone less than 4 years old…praying for a cloud to open, hence dropping a leaflet containing “THE ANSWER.” Well, THAT didn’t happen! To make an already long story short, I bought those green, rubber coated, bamboo looking, 8’ high tomato stakes…1 for each fencepost. I securely fastened 1 stake to each post with cut clothes hangers. You might not find these anymore, so buy some thick, galvanized wire. Here’s the humor part. Think of a sliced loaf of bread. I ran monofilament fishing line across the garden, from one green stake to another. From left to right, connect the 1st stake on each side. Then connect the 2nd stake on each side and so on. Don’t allow much sag in the fishing line. I had a spool of plasticized foil…the material used to cover candy bars, which had a shiny finish. It was 36” wide. I cut 4” strips and fastened them to the fishing line at about 3’ intervals. It looked like the grand opening of an old Route 66 gas station, but the skinny foil moved at the slightest breeze and it was enough to keep the deer away. Visitors got a good chuckle, but it worked! Thank God it was about 80 feet behind the house, so animals and the occasional UFO had the only view.

Squirrels: We had plenty of trees and bushes. The furry-tail scooters kept busy and got fat on all the nuts and berries. If these little guys are eating your plants, they don’t have enough natural food. Most wildlife will feed on ornamentals when theirs has been taken away. If your home is in a newer development, odds are the contractor bulldozed much of it.

Morning doves: I do believe they operated a radar station…each time I planted corn, those winged poachers would burgle the rows, unearthing only the soil wherein the seed were placed! I finally claimed victory by placing a paper Dixie cup, bottom side up, over each seed, turning it slightly to embed the cup. Of course, I poked a slit in the cup’s bottom that allowed the corn stalk to exit. By then, the doves weren’t interested. (Did you ever notice how they act as if you can’t see them?)

8 Years, 19 Days, 'Twas Writ.....

In the middle of the desert
A cloudless night
Millions of stars above
Not a sound at all
No animals to be seen
Tumbleweeds without motion
Alone
Devoid of communication
Vehicles nowhere
Naked
Horizons all around
Without a single tool
Neither food nor water
On fire
OMG!!!

Questionable Querriculum

(Penned in 1979...re-discovered and updated today)

Certain Ethnic Community College
Adult Education---Fall Semester
Registration Deadline---Real Soon


SELF IMPROVEMENT
SI500 CREATIVE SUFFERING
SI501 OVERCOMING PEACE OF MIND
SI502 YOU AND YOUR BIRTHMARKS
SI503 GUILT WITHOUT PARANOIA
SI504 THE PRIMAL SHRUG
SI505 EGO GRATIFICATION THROUGH CONDESCENSION
SI506 MOULDING YOUR CHILD THROUGH GUILT AND FEAR
SI507 DEALING WITH POST REALIZATION DEPRESSION
SI508 WHINE YOUR WAY TO ALIENATION
SI509 HOW TO OVERCOME SELF-DOUBT THROUGH PRETENSE AND OSTENTATION

BUSINESS AND CAREER
BC101 HOW TO AMASS $100 IN REAL ESTATE
BC102 MONEY CAN MAKE YOU RICH
BC103 MARKETING AND SELLING YOUR IN-LAWS
BC104 CARAVAN CAREERS
BC105 FRANCHISE THAT INFORMATION BOOTH
BC106 THE UNDERACHIEVER’S GUIDE TO VERY SMALL BUSINESS OPPORTUNITIES
BC107 TAX SHELTERS FOR THE INDIGENT
BC108 MORTGAGE REDUCTION WITHOUT CARBS
BC109 NIGHT SCHOOL RIP-OFFS (MORNING CLASS ONLY)

ARTS AND CRAFTS
AC302 RECYCLING SPIDER WEBS
AC303 SELF-ACTUALIZATION THROUGH MACRAME
AC304 NEEDLECRAFT FOR JUNKIES
AC305 CUTICLE ORIGAMI
AC306 GIFTS FOR THE IRS AGENT
AC307 BONSAI YOUR PET
AC308 HOW TO DRAW STICK FIGURES

OF SPECIAL INTEREST
BS101 OVERTHROW ANY GOVERNMENT IN LESS THAN A DECADE
BS102 WATERBED AQUARIUMS
BS103 STARTING A SILO COLLECTION
BS104 GARGLE IN ANY LANGUAGE OVERNIGHT
BS105 EXPLAINING DENTS
BS106 WHALE REPAIR
BS107 DOOR TO DOOR DENTURE SALES

HEALTH AND FITNESS
HF201 BEARD WATCHING
HF202 CREATIVE TOOTH DECAY
HF203 EXORCISM AND ITS EFFECT ON ACNE
HF204 THE JOYS OF HYPOCHONDRIA
HF205 SUICIDE AND YOUR LONGEVITY
HF206 HIGH FIBER YIN & YANG
HF207 BIOFEEDBACK AND HOW TO STOP
HF208 SKATEBOARDING TO REGULARITY
HF209 UNDERSTANDING A CLAVICLE
HF210 TAP DANCE YOUR WAY TO RIDICULE
HF211 OPTIONAL BODY FUNCTIONS
HF212 DRESSING RIGHT/ DRESSING LEFT AND HOW IT CAN CHANGE YOUR LIFE
HF213 THE BRAILLE SYSTEM OF ANATOMY
HF214 WATER SKI HOPSKOTCH

HOME BUDGETING
EC402 RETURN STOLEN GOODS FOR PROFIT
EC403 TURN THAT FLY SWATTER INTO A FULLY AUTOMATIC RIFLE
EC404 HOW TO CONVERT YOUR FAMILY ROOM INTO A GARAGE
EC405 BURGLARPROOF YOUR HOME WITH CEMENT
EC406 FUNDAMENTAL KITCHEN TAXIDERMY
EC407 SINUS DRAINAGE AT HOME
EC408 1001 USES FOR THE KIRBY VACUUM
EC409 REPAIR AND MAINTENANCE OF YOUR VIRGINITY
EC410 CONVERT A WHEELCHAIR INTO A DUNE BUGGY
EC411 CHRISTIANITY AND R.V. MAINTENANCE
EC412 IMPROVE PROFITS WITH YOUR CONVERSATION PIT

GENERAL
GB101 RIOT ETIQUETTE
GB102 SCHOOL GUARD FOLKLORE
GB103 WIND CHIME SING-A-LONGS
GB104 KNOW YOUR FLASHLIGHT
GB105 LOOKING OCCUPIED AND INTERESTED AT A SHOPPING MALL
GB106 DRYER LINT QUILTS
GB107 MICROWAVE MYSTERIES AND TERROR
GB108 AVOID COMPACT DISC ALLERGIES
GB109 SELECTING ANCESTORS
GB110 DISCREET KNUCKLE CRACKING
GB111 MEMORIZING MIDDLE NAMES
GB112 INTRODUCTORY HIJACK HUMOR
GB113 KILLER BEE COOKING FOR FUN
GB114 REMEDIAL COUPON CLIPPING

While the Coffee Brewed...

(Written 3-29-00, when I was with an Outreach Ministry that operated per Matthew 25:35)

Before the sun rises, MY world begins
Early morning is NOT for me
But I revel in the selfish quiet

It’s all I’ll have today

Today, I’ll hear the cries of hunger---the rasps of thirst
I’ll see the naked
Feel the loneliness of the imprisoned
And the despair of the afflicted

From that bleak rises a storm of compassion
Bolts of empathy powered by surges of caring
Surrounding me are the arms and hearts of those who TRULY care
They give…they love
They don’t stop

Can we help or save them all---or even SOME?
Are we on the right path?

Frustrated at times…I look to the sky
And there…..peering from behind a cloud

I see God and Matthew.....

I SEE GOD AND MATTHEW SMILE!

Keep a Lookout---NOT!

When you enter the main parking area at the Manchester, New Hampshire Veterans Administration Hospital, this ominous building sticks out like a sore "tower." At my first appointment last week, I asked Ralph, who was assisting my records transfer, if he knew anything about it. He apologized and said he had been meaning to get the information. Now curious, I went home and began the Bob version of CSI. Spending nearly an hour on the web, it amazed me how limited the information on the man who was Manchester's mayor several times, governor of New Hampshire twice and good friend of Abraham Lincoln. However, here we go: Fredrick Smyth, 1819-1899; Governor 1865 and 1866, (apparently the term was but 1 year); Smyth Tower built in 1888 as his personal retreat/hideaway; It resembles a Scotch Border Watchtower.

Rhetoric and Other Political Stuff

Evolution, as defined, intones a very slow process. In politics, the process is on fast-forward because there’s not a ton of time in each run for office, although, sometimes, it certainly can feel that way!

In the beginning, all the candidates brandish their very best behavior, as if they’re wearing new clothes for the Easter church service, knowing there’ll be the devil to pay if they get dirty before going to Gramma’s. Usually, through the first debate, they swoon over and make nicey-nice to each other as if Noah were on his way to make a final decision for cabins on the ark.

There’s no preset schedule, but somewhere, one candidate makes a statement that upsets another, and like a horse race…they’re OFF! It’s truly hilarious, because you KNOW it’s coming…you envision their gritting teeth and holding breath, just itching to be the first and hoping to not get caught. Identification means having to deny any knowledge, followed by trying to convince us that it was taken out of context and finally firing the individual responsible for issuing the statement, along with a profound apology, of course! As the election draws closer, digging is deeper and finger pointing becomes more abrasive. It’s a never-ending search. If they can’t find any, sometimes they invent some! How am I doing so far?

In our age of instant dissemination of data, I get oh so very tired of the emails begging me to “forward to as many people as possible” information that has not been verified. Occasionally, I get riled and fire off a response, making certain to hit the “reply to all” button, hoping someone understands. I gently advise them to check with snopes.com and other sources for credence. I bite my e-tongue as I advise all that very little will be accomplished by forwarding to a bazillion friends. Finally, I get miffed and offer instructions on obtaining results.

Trace each candidate’s record. Follow their progress. Compare promises vs. results. Go to the meetings. Question why the results differed from the promises. (Hint. They rely on your loss of memory). Monitor how they vote. Some newspapers publish all votes. If yours doesn’t, make a request or you can get the info on line. Good Lord, don’t vote for someone because, “he looks like a nice boy!” Too quickly, too many citizens have become lemmings. Look up the word and you’ll remember the meaning.

Read, watch and learn! We can access mountains of information by pointing a mouse and hitting a button. (Hint. They know many are too lazy). There are many journalists who follow the candidates and issues. Here are but a few: Pat Buchanan, Froma Harrop, Michelle Malkin, John Metzler, Oliver North, Leo Sandy, Mark Shields, Thomas Sowell and John Stossel. All are accessible in print and on the web. Type in a name and follow directions to the articles. Also at your disposal are the many programs on television and radio. I’m not here to endorse any program, journalist or commentator. I merely offer these choices wherein you can study what they offer. Form your own educated opinion and vote accordingly. Oh yeah, you’ll have to vote because that entitles you to complain to the bartender the day after the election!

If you’re in the mood for an ulcer or two, visit the site I recently found. Type in www.cagw.org Called Citizens Against Government Waste, it defines much of what you always wanted to know and get sick about your dollars becoming the comical(?) but sick, pork barrel funding.

They are your employees. You elect them to pass along your wishes and needs. Someone said, “The people should not fear the government. It is the government who should fear the people.” If you are dissatisfied, by all means, do not elect or re-elect them. Most of you get a performance review at your place of employment, right? If you don’t perform up to expectations, you get a bad “report card” or a warning or the boot. Why should they be any different?

I could go on and on, but understanding the human factor, I know that some folks haven’t even read this far! It’s your country, so, Wake Up, America!

I Never Met Margie...

...but I HAVE met Pat! She and her hubby live at one end of the street where once I neighbored. Their property is on the south side of the cul de sac, with a small wetland on the eastern point. There are 14 houses on that portion of the street. Several times a year, neat-o Pat and her hubby host a FFTBSOYOS "block party." (Feel Free To Bring Some Of Your Own Stuff). Lots of fun and catching up had by all! My being ever-inquisitive, at the 1st meeting, I discovered Pat's penchant for throwing things. Initially, I thought she was a baseball pitcher, then I learned that "throwing" is a term used in making pottery. Her shop is but a few moment's drive from home and she is now in pursuit of international exposure. If you'd like to "meet" Pat and her co-thrower, Margie...OR...if you know any Grand Poobahs, Potentates, Persnickety Royalty and even everyday folks in search of neat, original stuff, kindly click on their site, where you may enjoy a tour and peruse the wares. http://www.clayescapespottery.com By the way, the opening statements are presented in case applicable questions appear in a Trivial Pursuit Game, but you already knew that, didn't you?

Reminiscing...from that Anon person via Paula M

Long ago and far away........In a land that time forgot,

Before the days of Dylan,.....Or the dawn of Camelot.

There lived a race of innocents....And they were you and me,

Long ago and far away.........In the Land That Made Me ME.

For Ike was in the White House...In that land where we were born,

Where navels were for oranges.....And Peyton Place was porn.

We learned to gut a muffler.......We washed our hair at dawn,

We spread our crinolines to dry...........In circles on the lawn.

We longed for love & romance......And waited for our Prince,

And Eddie Fisher married Liz.....And no one's seen him since.

We danced to "Little Darlin".....And Sang to "Stagger Lee"

And cried for Buddy Holly......... In the Land That Made Me ME.

Only girls wore earrings then......... And 3 was one too many,

And only boys wore flat-top cuts.....Except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams.........Did we expect to see

A boy named George with Lipstick......In the Land That Made Me ME.

We fell for Frankie Avalon,......Annette was oh, so nice,

And when they made a movie.......They never made it twice.

We didn't have a Star Trek Five.....Or Psycho Two & Three,

Or Rockey-Rambo Twenty...... In the Land That Made Me ME.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold........And Chester had a limp,

And Reagan was a Democrat.......Whose co-star was a chimp.

We had a Mr. Wizard........But not a Mr. T,

And Oprah couldn't talk yet............In the Land That Made Me ME.

We had our share of heroes........We never thought they'd go,

At least not Bobby Darin...........................Or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal.........And life was yet to be,

And Elvis was forever...............In the Land That Made Me ME.

We'd never seen the rock band......That was Grateful to be Dead,

And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson.....And Zeppelins were not Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then.......And Monkees lived in trees,

Madonna was a virgin................In the Land That Made Me ME.

We'd never heard of microwaves.......Or telephones in cars,

And babies might be bottle-fed......But they weren't grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out.....And "gay" meant fancy-free,

And dorms were never coed...........In the Land That Made Me ME.

We hadn't seen enough of jets.....To talk about the lag,

And microchips were what was left.....At the bottom of the bag.

And Hardware was a box of nails.....And bytes came from a flea,

And rocket ships were fiction.........In the Land That Made Me ME.

Buick's came with portholes...... And side shows came with freaks,

And bathing suits came big enough.....To cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles......And skirts came to the knee,

And Castro came to power..........In the Land That Made Me ME.

We had no Crest with Fluoride......We had no Hill Street Blues,

We all wore superstructure bras.....Designed by Howard Hughes.

We had no patterned pantyhose.....Or Lipton herbal tea

Or prime-time ads for condoms.......In the Land That Made Me ME.

There were no golden arches.......No Perrier to chill,

And fish were not called Wanda.....And cats were not called Bill.

And middle-aged was 35........And old was forty-three,

And ancient was our parents........In the Land That Made Me ME.

But all things have a season.....Or so we've heard them say,

And now instead of Maybelline.....We swear by Retin-A.

And they send us invitations..........To join AARP,

We've come a long way, baby........From the Land That Made Me ME.

So now we face a brave new world.....In slightly larger jeans,

And wonder why they're using.......Smaller print in magazines .

And we tell our children's children.....Of the way it used to be,

Long ago and far away. .....In the Land That Made Me ME.........

Everybody Has An Angela

If you’ve known me for any length of time, you’ve probably heard me begin a statement with, “I’m not easily impressed, but……….” The births of my children, puppies, experiencing Sedona, finding a truly good ice cream shoppe, a Lake Erie storm, the friendly folk of Appalachia and poor people who continually give are but several examples. Yet, I doubt if anything is more impressive than the day we discover a new emotion called Love. Regardless where life takes us, we never shake that part of growing up. Few of us bond and stay together forever, while most move on and eventually find another person. Some of us will marry several times and a small percentage will remain single. As time passes, that magnificent “moment” becomes a bit foggy while we pursue what we feel will make us happy.

I wonder if Messrs. Rosenberg were aware of the fuse they would light while penning, “Stand Alone By Me”, the March 3rd installment of ABCs, “October Road.” Angela, the only girl in a tight circle of 6, moved away when they were all 10 years old. Eighteen years later, Angela’s death rekindled memories of how each of 5 boys loved her in his own special way.

We’ll find many loves, but none more significant or even magical than our first, as THAT love opened a new kind of door for our hearts. It’s the first time we could actually see into someone, well beyond the physical and into the soul. We were in awe of a mere presence…the world stopping for us and nobody else, in that microcosm of time…a time when absolutely nothing else mattered…our lives forever changed. Can you remember trying to understand that feeling…the futility of explaining any of it and the blissful, utopian confusion of it all? There WAS no way to understand or explain the euphoria. It just WAS! On that day, during that nanosecond, we bid good-bye to innocence and boarded the train to adulthood.

We will experience much in life. Occasionally, the mind will go back to recall how special a time it was because it was OUR world and for a very short period, there was nothing else!

Go to abc.com, click “Watch Full Episode”, then click, “Stand Alone By Me.” Sip a comfort beverage and---go find, or, at least, remember and cherish YOUR Angela.

I did…..and that’s what I saw from MY porch!

Longing for Warm Weather

(Originally written in 2003 to the UDF Customer Relations Dept.)

During the Fifties and Sixties, on the southeast side of Cleveland, Ohio, stood an old brick building, which housed Meyer Dairy. They processed milk, then delivered it throughout the neighborhood, to the Mom & Pop stores and to the forerunners of super markets. In front of the processing plant, on the corner of Lederer Avenue and East 65th Street, was "Dairyland." Inside was a fountain with stools, square tables with sturdy aluminum chairs and a jukebox upon which a song was a nickel and you could hear 3 for a dime.

Most any time you visited, at the table nearest the jukebox, sat "Charlie", the bookie. We never saw any deals take place, but the reputation was enough to invoke awe in the minds of any pre-teenagers. Most of us didn't know what a bookie did, but Charlie did at least look like one! Although he was nice enough to us, we gave him plenty of room. It's not that we were afraid, it's just that we didn't know what a bookie might do to us if we did anything to upset him. This was prior to sexual abuse and kidnapping, so we weren't thinking about those things.

Those were the days of unlocked doors. I don't remember having a house key back then. Neighbors kept a watch on things that would cause envy in the best FBI agent. They had the best hearing...if you walked the streets after dark, you could see a window curtain move ever so slightly...movement caused by the night guard. I'm not sure if any of the old-timers ever slept!

The most violent scene witnessed was an occasional brawl between 2 guys over the claim on one of the "chicks" at the Friday night sock hop. If you're too young, the junior high school played 45 RPM records in the gymnasium to keep us occupied and you had to remove your shoes to prevent damage to the floor. Thus the term, sock hop. A hard-earned quarter got you admission to the Olympia Theater with enough left over to buy a 10 cent box of popcorn. Wow...14 cents to see a newsreel, several cartoons, coming attractions and two full-length movies!

Back to Meyer Dairy. A small fountain Coke was a nickel and so was a small bag of Dan-Dee potato chips, made right down the street. The very best part was the ice cream. It was the model of consistency and very difficult to choose which flavor you'd have that day. With money being very tight immediately following the Korean War, and, wanting to get the most for our money, we'd wait until Mrs. Nemec was behind the counter. Small in stature, she'd swoop that one piece ice cream scoop like Paul Bunyan swinging his axe to form the Grand Canyon, causing your eyes to nearly pop out when you saw the size of that scoop on top of the cone. We'd savor and lick for what seemed like hours, as this was the height of our week! If the weather were humid, we'd have to eat it quickly or else the ice cream would melt its way through the cone. Being inventive, we'd make it last longer by biting off the bottom of the cone and sucking down the ice cream with closed eyes and nothing else mattered. By the way, a one scoop cone cost 9 cents. If you had saved enough for two scoops, it was a challenge to keep them balanced while you worked hard to keep it from melting down onto your hand. I can't remember how much a pint or larger container cost. The cones are what I most fondly recall and the picture of Mrs. Nemec performing to the delight and anticipation of a young child.

I came home from a stint with Uncle Sam to find that Meyer Dairy had closed and Dairyland was no more. Gone were Mrs. Nemec and Charlie, the jukebox, the tables, the nickel Cokes and the ice cream cones. Today, it's all flat ground where Dairyland once served the neighbors and elicited countless faces to break into smiles as wide as the side view of a canoe. There have been times since when I've not had ice cream, but I've gotten back on track in the past 3 years. Nothing can replace Dairyland and I suppose good memories overshadow the taste of today's flavors. My ultimate back then was chocolate-marshmallow because it was the way the marshmallow was swirled into the chocolate.

My travels have taken me in search of that old-time flavor and have all ended in disappointment...UNTIL...a very good friend treated me to some that's made by United Dairy Farmers. I consumed a goodly amount of it that evening! It's the first time in thirty-some years that I've been able to associate the taste with the memory. Thank you, UDF! Funny how a small act of kindness and a some good ice cream can conjur up so many memories.

Anonymous Oldie---Almost a Sooose?

Four all who reed and right (?)

We'll begin with a box and the plural is boxes;
but the plural of ox became oxen not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
yet the plural of moose should never be meese.

You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice;
yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.
If the plural of man is always called men,
why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?

If I spoke of my foot and show you my feet,
and I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
and the plural of cat is cats, not cose.

We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
but though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
but imagine the feminine, she, shis and shim.

Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England.

We take English for granted.
But if we explore its paradoxes,
we find that quicksand can work slowly,
boxing rings are square
and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing,
grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend?
If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes, I think all the folks who grew up speaking English should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
Ship by truck and send cargo by ship?
Have noses that run and feet that smell?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down,
in which you fill in a form by filling it out
and in which an alarm goes off by going on.
If Dad is Pop, how come Mum isn't Mop?

Author Unknown or is it Knotknown

Giving to and Helping Others

What Prompts YOU to Give?

Years back, my “Taking on the World,” 20-ish daughter would pop over to help watch, “Life Goes On”, a TV show about a family raising a son with Down’s Syndrome, in addition to the healthy siblings. The stories were almost always touching, so I re-named it, “Make Me Cry”, reflecting my “tough” child’s weekly response. Oh, I too had my share of hard swallows!

Since then, we’ve had the likes of, *Touched By an Angel, *Joan of Arcadia, Extreme Makeover-Home Edition and now, Oprah’s, The Big Give. Granted, some *stories were created in the writing room, yet, I felt someone was indeed experiencing a similar problem. I hardly ever miss Extreme Makeover. On one hand, I am SO proud of how a community unites to rescue people from the cracks of life. On the other hand, it upsets me that perhaps nothing would happen without the intervention of Ty Pennington, his gang of “elves” and all the donating sponsors. Granted, donor companies get a tremendous amount of low-cost exposure, but that’s how the world spins today. On the third hand, maybe we truly are at the point of re-awakening the spirit of man helping man!

I spent 9 years with a ministry and food bank assisting a multitude of the poor, fire victims, homeless, abuse victims, drug/alcohol rehabs, physical/mental dependents, down-sized job loss, low income and anyone else needing help. There’s not enough space to say how easy it was to get sick or really upset at some of the conditions in which people barely exist. It can get to you, but you become as does the battlefield Medic who treats quickly to stop the bleeding, then moves on to the next of the oh so many wounded.

There’s a book in all of this, but for now, you just need to know that many outsiders could not/would not believe how much a small group could accomplish, but we had the records to bear witness. In many neighborhoods are small advocacy groups who sleep very little in the quest of helping others get at least some of what they need. Their budgets don’t allow for advertising, so you might have one on your street and not even be aware.

SO…what can YOU do? Your cupboard or pantry definitely has canned/boxed groceries that never got past the good intention of a new recipe. Included are items that you couldn’t pay the kids to eat. Donate them to the local food bank. Hunger goes beyond holidays! Dressers and closets teem with clothes worn once or never…some still tagged! There are utensils, duplicate dishes, pots and pans that will never cook tapioca on your stove. In the linen closet is a sheet, blanket, pillowcase or towel that will never get off the bottom of that pile. Walk around the house, garage and basement. Outside of holiday decorations, if you haven’t used it in a month, odds are you never will.

Open the phone book or go online to locate organizations that can re-use your serviceable offerings. Some will pick up. Ask for a tax deduction receipt. Donate clean goods, working appliances and unbroken furniture. If you belong to a church, tell them what you have available. Chances are, someone in the congregation or neighborhood needs it and not much gasoline will be used to transfer it. You can help and you’ll feel better for having done so. Also, it never hurts to say “hi” to a stranger, pass along a smile, give a hug and even volunteer. And, there you have it!

I and Others Have Often Wondered.....

Why do we run from the rain, but not the snow?
Where would you buy furniture made from Holly Wood?
How can you tell if you're on the Teeter or the Totter end?

Was God mad at some people when he assigned laughs?
If 2 lines are parallel, is 1 line a lel?
Why can't you hear "ping" or "pong" when playing table tennis?
In sports, why isn't it called the "FAIR" line?

How many points are on a co-star?
After morning has broken, who's responsible for the repair?
How do you know when to wind up or wind down?
Is corporal punishment more severe than PFC punishment?
Does anyone play Frontgammon?

Do Australians call the rest of the world, Up Over?
Does "Killing Time" damage eternity?
Howse come Tarzan doesn't have a beard?
Why does day break and night fall?

Are substitute band leaders called semi-conductors?
Did Noah keep his bees in arc-hives?
Do Roman paramedics issue blood from a 4?
Have you ever imagined having no hypothetical situations?
If pushed for time, would a pilot be able to take a crash course?

Wouldn't you eventually get hungry on a non-stop flight?
Is it unlawful to run while carrying a Walkman?
If swimming is good exercise, why are seals fat?

Would you gain weight if you jog backwards?
When a Chinese dancer spins, does he get dis-oriented?
How do you decide between fat chance and slim chance?

How does the snowplow driver get to work?
If a cow laughed really hard, would a farmer spew out of her nose?
Wouldn't you oversleep if your alarm clock went off?
Why isn't palindrome spelled the same in reverse?

How could you forget to spell mnemonic?
Is there a penalty for listening to AM radio in the afternoon?
What do the Chinese call their expensive dinnerware?
What do you call a male ladybug?

Oh, Those ComMERcials!

Did someone misread a calendar? Several weeks ago, I heard a Mitsubishi commercial espousing the virtues of its 2009 model...yes...2009! Last evening, Toyota began talking about ITS units for 2009. Where are all the 2008-s?!? Speaking of Toyota, their slogan, "Ask someone you know who drives one" took me W-A-Y back to a similar ad for Studebaker-Packard urging the listener to, "Ask the man who OWNS one!" hmmm.

Thinking I'd never see it again, Mickey D regurged the man in a bowling shirt who finds it necessary to lean over the ship's bow to eat his fish sandwich, when a dolphin snatches it. Good Grief, Charley Green!

Great carry-over from Soooper Bowl Eks Ell Eye Eye is from Tide, overtalking a young man with stained shirt at a job interview. Can't you just see Chevy Chase doing that?

And...I forever love the sale, wherein the announcer proclaims, "Everything is priced to sell!" Does that mean some stores wish to KEEP their inventory?!?

I'm sure you'll think of many more, but this was to merely get your O-Neg on the flow.

What's In a Word...........?

If the world knew my name, it never would experience…
A weakened spirit
Covetousness or theft

If the world knew my name, it would never experience…
Infidelity or murder

If the world knew my name, it would never experience…
Wars or famine…

If the world knew my name, it would never experience…
Disease or drugs

If the world knew my name, it would never experience…
Locks, fences or gates

If the world knew my name, it would ALWAYS experience…
Honor

Who AM I?

My name is.....Truth

Email from The Big Guy In the Sky

Hi! Remember Me?

I gave you a world of beauty that you could enjoy

I gave you the land and the waters to use for food and shelter

I gave you commandments to use as your guide

I gave you a conscience as a reminder

I gave you each other that you could procreate and pass on all that you learned

I gave you richness of spirit for you to share with all

I gave you intellect that you would use to improve the lives of everyone

I gave you choices that you could make to become better

I asked for nothing other than that you teach what I have taught you

I wanted nothing other than that you pass along the love I have given you

NOW look at what you’ve done!!!

Sign, Sign, Ev'rywhere a Sign........

How the mind wanders, eh? You see words...and, I think:

Is this a reminder for local farmers?

OR

Does it forecast a shortage of ladies for this year's prom?

We "March" Tomorrow!

E-mails are coming in to announce emerging tree buds...not on THIS porch yet! The frequency of snowfalls in the "Shire of Hamp" makes one wonder if tailgate parties should be held to celebrate their arrival. Talk is that we've already "enjoyed" more than 90" in the Franklin/Tilton vicinity. When the temp breaks 30 degrees, I'm going to decorate the lawn with pink flamingos absconded from Parma, Ohio! Sheeesh!

Our Warm(?) Welcome to New Hampshire

Mistakenly deleted the original 1st Post, so here it is...Stuck in the middle with you

'Twas the Shire of Hamp on 1-4-08.....Looks the same on 2-28-08

Thought was, "Shire of Hamp" sounds regal for The Granite State

What will follow is known but to The Big Guy In The Sky

ATTEMPTED will be cause for a hopeful chuckle from you...a cause to think...a reason for involvement...and a sharing of sight and words as experienced from my front porch, as it were.

Afraid of getting old and sedentary? Never mind that *#* about the fountain of youth! One simple rule will turn you into a kid. As The Lone Ranger announcer stated, "Return with us now, to the days of yesteryear." Dust off that calculator and follow these directions: a. Enter your present age. b. Subtract 32 from that. c. Multiply that times .55. Got that? NO? Okay...if you are now 60, enter that number, then subtract 32, which gives you 28. Multiply 28 times .55 and you'll see 15.4. INSTANT TEENAGER!!! You are now 15.4 years of age....albeit Celcius! Happy New Birthday!!!

"Squeamed" by teevee commercials? Many are humorous while others are thought provoking. Others...well, ya GOTTA wonder! I do get squeamish when I see ads pre-determining our lack of intelligence, where we'll drop what we're doing to, "Check with our prescriber." Yeah, RIGHT! One of my un-faves is the moaning mister who counts meatballs in the elevator. His IQ must be an IOU! Tough enough to get through one of those, but, even moreso, I question the mindset of the marketing exec who actually figured this would lead to a larger desk in that corner office!

2-28-2008

Humor can be found anywhere and everywhere. The best comics get their material from the study of people. They, however, describe it in such fashion as to elicit laughter from we, who choose to pay many dollars for the privilege of being embarassed by them. My next, (1st), book will somewhere say, "Wake up tomorrow having the knowledge that you definitely will witness at least 1 example of stupidity!"