You probably shouldn’t be roaming the interwebz at work anyway

 One evening a man was at home watching TV and eating peanuts.

He’d toss them in the air, then catch them in his mouth.

In the middle of catching one, his wife asked a question, and as he turned to answer her, a peanut fell in his ear.

He tried and tried to dig it out but succeeded in only pushing it in deeper.

He called his wife for assistance, and after hours of trying they became worried and decided to go to the hospital.

As they were ready to go out the door, their daughter came home with her date.

After being informed of the problem, their daughter’s date said he could get the peanut out.

The young man told the father to sit down, then shoved two fingers up the father’s nose and told him to blowhard.

When the father blew, the peanut flew out.

The mother and daughter jumped and yelled for joy.

The young man insisted that it was nothing and the daughter brought the young man out to the kitchen for something to eat.

Once he was gone the mother turned to the father.

The mother said,

“That’s wonderful. Isn’t he smart? What do you think he’s going to be when he grows older?!”

The father replies

“From the smell of his fingers, our son-in-law!”

Everywhere I look

 

And boys

They were fast as lightning

 

Hinting Around

 

She helped me with my suitcase

 

Some beautiful music for a Sunday morning.

A process of maturation

It doesn’t happen often. I deleted a long screed right before publishing. It was the kind of rant that was commonplace in these pages in the past. Those kind of posts engendered lots of comments. In some cases they were popular. It may be what draws you here still, looking for a political or cultural opinion. Forty-seven years of blogging here is proof positive I am often willing to throw my thoughts out there and live with the ramifications. Sometimes, I have learned, it is not worth it. Could I be finally growing up when I’m just weeks short of my...let me do the math...62 birthday? 

Or have I become a coward? 

Let me summarize the post like this: if everything is racist, nothing is. I will leave it at that. 

For the record, this is a fresh post, not prewritten days or weeks ago. As proof, there is a dusting of snow outside. I couldn’t know that in advance, could I? Keep that in mind this week. 

Am I the only one who who finds it disturbing Frank is singing a love song with his daughter? 

Happy Saturday.

Contacting Customer Service

Happy Friday, blogateers. I have been buried in work, the paying kind, so my efforts here have been somewhat sparse. Send me a self-addressed envelope and I will return the unused portion of this week’s subscription fee. I’m all about customer service. 

Sure, we block pretty much every unknown number here at our one hundred percent American call center, but your call is important. Sorry, due to the high volume of calls your wait time may be longer than usual. Please leave a message and I will return your call at my earliest convenience.The best way to contact me is to send an email that does not get caught in my spam filter. It is probably best not to use that silly hot mail email address I remember to check about once every two months to reach me. Try this number instead: 867-5309. Ask for Jenny.

Been there...

 An elderly couple were sitting outdoors at a cafe when they noticed an old man who seemed to be having trouble crossing the street with an ungainly shuffle.

The man said to his wife, “He surely has bad arthritis to walk like that.”

His wife replied, “No, that’s definitely old time rheumatism.”

They couldn’t agree so the man decided to ask the old man.

He walked over to him and said,

“Excuse me, sir, but my wife and I saw you having difficulty crossing the street and I told her that you have arthritis but she insisted that you have rheumatism.

Which one of us was wrong?”

The old man said, “The three of us were wrong.”

“Three of us were wrong? How so?” asked the man.

To which the old man replied,

“You were wrong when you said I had arthritis, your wife was wrong when she said I had rheumatism, and I was wrong when I thought I just had to pass gas.”

I want you, I need you

We were at Walmart last evening picking up some stuff. I tried to convince my wife we needed a new TV. I want bigger, better, fancier. The one I chose wasn’t even that expensive, relatively speaking. 

In truth, even had she told me to buy it, I wouldn’t have. She is far more likely to buy stuff than I am. I go into wallet seizure at the idea of spending hundreds at a time for anything. Our current TV works fine, is really big enough for the room - it’s not tiny at 55”. And while I would like a 4K picture, our screen is pretty good. 

It’s all about want vs. need. 

Boy, the picture on that TV was nice. *

*During one of my periods out of work about a decade ago, I worked at Best Buy. I know how the manufacturers and store feed a far better picture into the TVs than you can get at home. 

More Weekend, Please

Here we are, another Monday. I am part of the workforce who does not get President’s Day off. It is probably a good thing, based on repeated “bings” on my phone  alerting me to work emails last evening and night. 

I binged the Martin Scorsese documentary about George Harrison on Max yesterday. Harrison is my favorite Beatle. He lacked the vanity of McCartney and the narcissism of Lennon. Frankly, his solo music was far better than anything put out by the others in their solo careers. 

Here is a semi-non sequitur true anecdote. I was in London when George Harrison died. I bought a copy of London Times that day. I left it laying on the desk in my hotel room. 

If you have an HBO Max subscription, the movie is well worth your time, especially the part with Ringo Starr at the end. 

History in song. Sort of.

Time to lighten things up. I was perusing the interwebz while listening to classic country music on the super spy smart speaker on my desk just now when a song came on I’ve never heard. Ever. 

Who knew? 

Yes, by the sausage guy. 

PS. If you bought my book or even got it free last month, leave me a review on Amazon. Even a bad review is welcomed. We can only improve when our shortcomings are recognized. Of course if you found it reminiscent of early Hemingway, you can tell me that too!😎

I Keep My Eyes Wide Open All the Time

We got the first real measurable snowfall of winter yesterday. By the end we probably got on the plus side of five inches of the white stuff. 

The roads were a little slick until the plows got out, but it wasn’t a big deal in the end. I went out around 8PM and shoveled the driveway and sidewalks. Mostly it as a big ho hum snow event.

For Capital City just to my south, it is a big deal. After a fairly mild winter — it hit the sixties last week — they have this snow on the weekend the city is hosting the NBA All-Star game. So it goes. Not that I really care. I do not suppose I have watched an NBA game in twenty years. 

I’m not a lawyer. I haven’t stayed in a Holiday Inn Express for a couple of years.* Can someone, anyone explain just what Trump did to get fined hundreds of millions of dollars by that New York judge? Oh, I know they claim he overstated the value of his collateral. But here’s the thing, Trump took the loans, he paid the loans on time, the banks gave the loans and got back their principle and interest. Everybody won. Everybody made money. The banks even testified they agreed with the stated value. How is there a crime without a victim? 

If I go to the bank and demand a $2 million dollar mortgage for my little hovel, no banker in the world is going to lend me that kind of cash, no matter how good or poor my credit rating is, without doing some serious evaluation of my assets and collateral. Even a pawn shop looks up the value of an item before they give a loan. 

No matter what you think of Trump, and there is plenty to dislike, you have to objectively look at this skeptically. Especially when the prosecutor vowed as an election promise she was going to get Trump for something, anything. The trial next month is equally specious. There was an uproar yesterday when Putin’s main challenger died in prison, many arguing he was prosecuted for political reasons. I’m not sure I see a lot of difference in what Democrat partisans are doing to Trump. It all started with the Russia collusion farce, and hasn’t stopped. 

Again, I would vote for almost anyone with the right politics over Trump. But recent events sure have a distinct Banana Republic feel to them.

Look, your opinion may vary. Tell me in the comments. You will be wrong, but I’ll read what you have to say. 

*There used to be an adverting campaign where people could do extraordinary things after staying in a Holiday Inn Express. 
 

it is supposed to snow today

Today is my mom’s birthday. She would have been 84. I miss my mom. I got my dry sense of humor from her. As a youth, my sloppiness, lack of organization, and general lackadaisical attitude must have driven her insane. She loved me unconditionally anyway. 

She once typed up a saying, had it laminated, and stuck it on my bulletin board in my room. It read:

If a task is once begun, never leave it ‘till it’s done. Be the labor great or small, do it well, or not at all.

Clearly,  I needed that lesson driven into my thick stubborn skull if she went to that much trouble to help me. The fact I still remember that poem is a tribute to her efforts. These days I never leave a project to the last minute if I can help it. The boss never has to follow up on a task he has assigned me. 

When my mother died, I posted a semi-eulogy here. Everything in it was true, but I didn’t explain clearly that while my mom was a perfectionist of the highest order, she possessed a tremendous capacity for love. 

While I frequently disappointed her, Mom always helped me out of a tight spot. 

Mom loved my kids and doted on her great-granddaughters. I’m not sure anyone grieved more when my grandson passed away. 

I miss you mom. Happy Birthday.

makes me want to just let my SUV idle for an hour or two.

Climate activists pour red powder on the case holding the original US Constitution at the National Archives in Washington DC. For now, it's unclear if the document was damaged, but they were allowed to go about their protest for a time without arrest. pic.twitter.com/8ubR60obsn

— Ian Miles Cheong (@stillgray) February 14, 2024

WTH? Climate assholes threw a pink powder all over the case housing the Constitution. These terrorists deface a national treasure and the security guards LET THEM. Why weren’t these assholes thrown to the floor and cuffed the instant they started throwing whatever? And why are we letting them rant? For goodness sake, the so-called guards are more interested in getting everyone else out, but not the f-ing CRIMINALS, 

What’s the difference between these dirtbags and the people who invaded the Capital on January 6?

I swear I live in a different world. I would have tackled these little pieces of shit myself, if the guards will not, 

Spit. I going to throw a few plastic straws in the trash, use a plastic bag at the store, and find some coal to burn in my fire pit. Screw the climateers.

In the air

 Happy Hallmark Valentines Day. 

Here’s some appropriate music:

soon

 

Pitchers and catchers report this week.  We are still six weeks from meaningful games, but Baseball season is coming.

maybe later

Bippity bopity boo, I have no post for you.

Change of Pace

 

January 2024

Instead of nonsensical rambling, how about a picture of a January sunrise from my backdoor?

What I really need is a quality ghostwriter

Sinatra is playing softly in the background as I type one-fingered on the iPad. Yesterday was gorgeous. It was sunny and warm, almost spring-like. Today, still warm, but cloudy. 

Look, I get it. I agree. Why in the world would you care about my weather? Unless you live here in Mudsock, the weather report is meaningless drivel, a filler, a lazy start. “How’s the weather?” is not even a good icebreaker in real conversation, why would I constantly fall on that old trope to start nearly every post for nineteen years? 

I wish I could promise to stop leading with meaningless weather reports. It probably won’t change. 

Look at that, talking about talking about the weather filled up another worthless post. We all win! 

Time for musical roulette. Checking my music library on shuffle, this is the next tune. Wow! This is a departure from the usual fare. How can you not dig this old tune? I am pretty sure I saw this on Hee Haw. I must have.

You might not have heard, there hasn’t been much news about it, there is a football game tomorrow. 

Sadly, reading this blog is very much like having a conversation with me. Except I have a south-of-seventy nasal midwestern twang and a slight lateral S lisp I cover pretty well. I don’t have a voice for radio nor a face for television. I guess I’m perfectly suited for anonymous blogging. 

fighting against fame and fortune

It is finally Friday and it looks to be a good one, weather-wise. I can see blue skies and a scary fireball-like thing in the sky I vaguely remember seeing sometime late last year. It is supposed to get into the 60s later. Maybe I’ll play hooky and try to have a cigar this afternoon. Unless work interferes. These things happen. 

I was sitting here thinking. If laziness  ever becomes an Olympic sport I will try for fourth place. I don’t want to have to climb up on that winners podium. 

Yeah, I stole that. You can too. 

I got my picture for my passport renewal the other day. The youngest granddaughter looked at it and promptly said “You look old.” Thanks kid. 

I may look old, but at least no prosecutor has told me I’m too old and senile to prosecute. That proclamation may be worse for Biden politically than a criminal charge. Biden did not help himself in his angry rambling televised rebuttal. He mixed up Mexico and Egypt. 

I suppose both countries have pyramids, so it might be understandable. 

No, not really. 

How about some Friday music?

Hah! Not today.

Dear Neighbor(s)

It is February 8th. It is time to unplug your Christmas lights. It’s cold, so you don’t have to take them down, but you can unplug those lights that are half burnt out. You can let the air out of the blow up Santa. 

You can use the lights again next year. There is no requirement to leave them on until they burn out. 

It’s okay. 

On the road again

I’m up early this morning. I have to hit the road in a bit. That was a regular phrase in past days around here. Now, not so much. Where I used to travel several days a week, now it is more like several days a year. Today's trip will be a quick jaunt to Chicago and back. The term “quick” is relative anytime you have to deal with Chicagoland traffic. This time I’m heading right downtown to the loop, so I will also have to deal with parking. Even worse, once I arrive I will have to deal with government officials to get an emergency passport renewal. I pray for patience. 

I don’t mind traveling, but I cannot say I miss it. I’ve been all over the world and the US, but at some point it is another hotel room on the industrial side of town. It is another fast food lunch or dinner by myself in a nondescript chain restaurant. 

I really do not miss flying. If I never stepped foot in an airport again I would be content. I’ve flown in the neighborhood of one thousand flights. That is fewer than some road warriors, more than most people. I’ve spent more hours in the Charlotte, Philadelphia, and Portland airports than you can imagine. Let’s not even discuss the abominations that are O’Hare or the New York area airports. Alas, I’ll be flying again at the end of the month. So it goes.

Lest you think this is a big complaint fest, I have loved my life on the road. I like driving in the car by myself as the asphalt sings under my tires, watching the corn and bean fields pass through my windshield. The small towns and highways are the true heart of America. The interstate gets me where I need to be quickly. It gets me through the cities with the least hassle. It is the lonely old US Highways and state routes that call me. That, I miss. 

But I really like being home for supper with my wife every night. 

I expect you to support me

 

We all get hosed again, but not Ukraine

The Senate has rolled out their joke of a Border Bill. The entire first part of the bill has nothing to do with protecting the border, it is about giving more money to Ukraine, which tells us all the true priority. It is essential to protect Ukraine’s border. Ours, not so much. 

This bill still allows 1500 5,000 illegals  to enter a day. Every day. If they are a “family” then they don’t count to the numbers. Then the border can only be closed  under this emergency act so many days a year, starting at 200+ and declining down to 180 days total in three years, when the entire bill sunsets. You are still looking at 300,000 beaucoup illegals entering every month. That’s nearly  THREE MILLION  TWO MILLION ILLEGALS a year for my fellow math challenged history majors.

The only court that can litigate the bill is the ultra-liberal and open borders favorable DC Federal Court. 

Finally, the President can override the provisions at will. Yes, he can just say, “nope” and the border remains open. 

In other words, this so-called border enhancement bill is worthless. It does nothing but send money to Ukraine. 

The stupid Republicans in the Senate will vote for it and the American taxpayers and citizens will get screwed yet again by our corrupt, feckless representatives. 

Spit.

If you think this bill is great, I recommend you live the open border concept personally:

And not a word I heard could I relate

Some friends came to visit last evening. We met for a sandwich and then we came back to our house. We played some cards, ate way too many snacks and generally had a good time. I’m sure the wife welcomed an opportunity to have a conversation with someone over the age of nine who was not me. 

Sorry. I got sidetracked for a bit while I was thinking about something else. I did not mean to leave you like that. 

It is supposed to warm to around fifty Fahrenheit today. I can see frost on the neighbor’s roofs, so it is a cold start to the day. 

There is no football today, so I have to find something else to do. My cousin asked me to send her family history slash genealogy information I have. I think I will do some scanning this afternoon. 

Sounds real exciting, doesn’t it? Next week I might watch paint dry.

We’ve done hippy music, jazz, and country. How about some rock music? [you do understand that was rhetorical? You have no choice in the matter]. If there was a top ten list of my favorite songs this would surely make the list. Of course my list would change every time I thought of a new song. I have nearly one thousand songs on my phone, for goodness sake.  I dig every one of them. 

Anyway:

Round about ten we all got to talking

I had an idea for a post when I went to bed. It was still there when I woke up this morning. Somewhere between making coffee and reading a few blogs the notion went poof! into the graveyard of good ideas. 

Sometimes life works that way. 

Do not be too sad, you got six posts yesterday. 

We’ve done some hippy music and some jazz. How about some country?

Seize the day with an iron grip

 Happy Groundhog Day.

Here we find ourselves on a Friday, awake and ready to seize the day. I suspect you clicked here first thing as you entered the interwebz to see what words of wisdom, what pearls of humor, what political insight I brought forth this morning. You will not be disappointed.

Unless you expected any of that. Have you not been reading here of late? What were you thinking? 

As an alternative, get your jazz fix:

I will admit this is pretty much the only jazz tune I can stomach. 

Seize the day with an iron grip

 Here we find ourselves on a Friday, awake and ready to seize the day. I suspect you clicked here first thing as you entered the interwebz to see what words of wisdom, what pearls of humor, what political insight I brought forth this morning. You will not be disappointed.

Unless you expected any of that. Have you not been reading here of late? What were you thinking? 

As an alternative, get your jazz fix:

I will admit this is pretty much the only jazz tune I can stomach. 

Seize the day with an iron grip

 Here we find ourselves on a Friday, awake and ready to seize the day. I suspect you clicked here first thing as you entered the interwebz to see what words of wisdom, what pearls of humor, what political insight I brought forth this morning. You will not be disappointed.

Unless you expected any of that. Have you not been reading here of late? What were you thinking? 

As an alternative, get your jazz fix:

I will admit this is pretty much the only jazz tune I can stomach. 

Seize the day with an iron grip

 Here we find ourselves on a Friday, awake and ready to seize the day. I suspect you clicked here first thing as you entered the interwebz to see what words of wisdom, what pearls of humor, what political insight I brought forth this morning. You will not be disappointed.

Unless you expected any of that. Have you not been reading here of late? What were you thinking? 

As an alternative, get your jazz fix:

I will admit this is pretty much the only jazz tune I can stomach. 

Seize the day with an iron grip

 Here we find ourselves on a Friday, awake and ready to seize the day. I suspect you clicked here first thing as you entered the interwebz to see what words of wisdom, what pearls of humor, what political insight I brought forth this morning. You will not be disappointed.

Unless you expected any of that. Have you not been reading here of late? What were you thinking? 

As an alternative, get your jazz fix:

I will admit this is pretty much the only jazz tune I can stomach. 

Seize the day with an iron grip

Here we find ourselves on a Friday, awake and ready to seize the day. I suspect you clicked here first thing as you entered the interwebz to see what words of wisdom, what pearls of humor, what political insight I brought forth this morning. You will not be disappointed.

Unless you expected any of that. Have you not been reading here of late? What were you thinking? 

As an alternative, get your jazz fix:

I will admit this is pretty much the only jazz tune I can stomach. 

Get Your Hippy On