A Simple Misunderstanding

 A co-worker was telling me about his Pedo-meter this morning.  

I misunderstood.  

Turns out it keeps track of your steps throughout the day and not the child molesters you encounter.

The Prime Directive

 I violated the prime directive today: I got behind an old person in the McDonald’s drive-thru.  The line was shorter, but I should have known trouble was on the way when I noticed her car door open and she was gesticulating with her hands to describe into the speaker what she wanted. Eh, what’s an extra couple of minutes?

None Shall Pass

 The message I saw on a fence as I drove past someone’s yard yesterday:

“No Trespassing Beyond This Point”

So it would seem to me the owner is comfortable with a certain amount of trespassing.

Same Word Different Spin

 Clubbing:

Lots of fun when you're in your 20s...

Not so much if you're a baby seal.

Does History Repeat?

 I remember when I was a kid we’d always hear about “so and so” had a baby and it’s “head popped off.” Is this still a thing or does it not happen so much anymore?

Big Eraser

 The Leftist-Revisionist History narrative has made it all the way down to the local, top-of-the-hour radio newscast on 610 WTVN:  

Did you know, “Tomorrow marks the 20th Anniversary of the day that ‘planes’ took down the towers at the World Trade Center”?  

Planes?  

Did they fly themselves? 

Did the planes have an agenda? 

No. 

The planes were high jacked and crashed by Islamo-Nazi terrorists.  

Why fail to mention that? 

Have we forgotten?  

Some have.

They want you to forget as well.

Disclaimer

 In a follow up to last year’s question: Whose mom ever told them during a heated discussion that they’d  break their arm off and hit them over the head with it?  

In most cases, this is just a figure of speech.

Tougher Than It Seems

 You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make a boy eat liver.

She Never Suspected A Thing

 I have simultaneously had an 

ill legitimate child and a 

healthy legitimate child living in the same house. 

The wife never batted an eye.

Consult Your Physician

BD Baker is not for everyone: Consult your Pharmacist before taking BD Baker for possible dangerous interactions with other medications.  Possible side effects of prolonged exposure include, but are not limited to, increased irritability, elevated blood pressure, loss of bowels and bladder, stroke, paralysis and, in rare cases, even tears of joy and uncontrolled laughter.

Thank You Very Much, Mr. Roboto

 We got a Roomba vacuuming robot this Christmas. Apparently, one has to name the automated crumb catcher, in order for it to function properly, why... I don’t fully understand, but Sue was soliciting my advice on what to name the little rascal so I chimed in.

My first choice was ‘Robut’  like the name for the B-9 Robot on ‘Lost In Space.’  I liked it when Will Robinson would innocently call Dr. Smith’s favorite Cantankerous Cold-hearted Clump simply ‘Robut.’ Nope. Too boring. No one would get it.

How about ‘Rosie,’ like the cleaning maid robot on ‘The Jetsons’? To which Sue replied, “Why does it even need to have a woman’s name? You’re just feeding into the stereotype that only women do that sort of work.”

I knew right then that offering up the name of another television housekeeper/maid wasn’t a good idea, so I quietly kept ‘Catalina’ from ‘My Name Is Earl’ to myself.   I did make the mistake of saying, “Oh... you’re not one of them, are you?” And then she said some other words followed by, “Why can’t we give it a man’s name?” 

Good point, but the only men’s names that came to mind were Mr. French and Mr. Belvedere and I had never seen a single episode of ‘Mr. Belvedere’ so that one didn’t really resonate with me. 

“Why can’t we name it ‘Mr. Clean’? she says.

Fair enough. He’s a good cleaner, but far less single-mindedly focused and robotic than our new mechanized Hazel.  I sort of conceded with, “Yeah, that’s a good one,” without fully letting go of the possibility of giving it a prettier name. 

She then circled back to “Why does it have to have a girl’s name?” 

This next part right here is why I need to learn to be quiet and stop being obsessed with being the funniest guy in the room, which I usually am anyway... so I’ve been told, but I digress. 

So I say, “Well, if it doesn’t have a girl’s name it is not going to be able to make us a sammich.”  

At the very moment those words left my mouth, I could actually hear the laugh track echoing in my head, but nothing of the sort was coming out of Sue. 

Weird.

So far, Mr. Clean has memorized the layout our entire first floor and is doing a bang up job.

Nightmare Of All Nightmares

 I had the nightmare of nightmares for all who have ever performed in community theater: I dreamt I was in a show but didn't realize I was in a show, hadn't even picked up the script... until we're about to go on stage. 

I didn't even know what the show was so I couldn't even begin to fake it.  But, just like those dreams where you think you're falling to your death, I woke up just before they raised the curtain.  

I hate those dreams.

I also hate the one where I'm still on the radio and can't find anything to play after my record ends. I can't find any carts, stray 45s, anything else, in the studio to play that is long enough to allow me to trek to the music library to find another record to play. An absolute feeling of dread. Both of those are high pressure horror stories. -B

That’s How Old Men Get Hurt

 So I was outside raking the snow off the roof. On the front of the house there were some pretty big icicles hanging down. As I stood on the ground, I tapped them from the back with my telescoping snow rake so they wouldn’t fall against the house and, wouldn’t you know, on the very first one I knocked down, a chunk came hurtling right at my gourd. Luckily, I had turned away, knowing some of the smaller pieces might hit me. One did. It wasn’t all that small. It felt like a rock. It hurt like a son of a buck. I said a bad word... or two. I rubbed my head - in the back near the top. I finished knocking the rest down and came in the house. 

I tell Sue. She asked if I had a lump. Heretofore, I had only been feeling my sore spot through my hat. It turns out I had two sore spots: an all encompassing sore spot and then the sore spot with the lump. 

I felt my head for the first time without my hat on and found my goose egg. I said, “Yeah, I’ve got a lump.” And as I brought my hand down she said, “You’re bleeding!”   Well, whaddyaknow?  I was. 

She then tells me that the activity I was engaged in it exactly how old men get hurt.  Sure is a good thing there weren’t any old men out there with me.  

Ironically, I think I’ll put some ice on my head and go sit by the fire.

Valentines Day 2020

 A special poem for a special day.

I need to go into the greeting card business.

VALENTINES DAY 2020

And so another year 

Begins in this way

In the second month 

On the fourteenth day

A day for young hopefuls 

To broadcast their cards

While tactfully skipping 

The whole psycho ward

A day for sad sacks 

To mope and to whine

About that ‘someone’ 

They’ll never find

A day resplendent 

With pink and red art

And invisible arrows 

Piercing young hearts

A day for fancy dinners

Chocolates and bubbly

And other activities 

That involve getting cuddly

A day for sweethearts 

To reminisce 

And entice the one 

They like to kiss

A day to look back 

And to say ‘well done’

I’m grateful to have you

Cause you’re still the one

So considering all this 

And all these words that you’ve read

And the brilliant mosaic 

They’ve placed in your head

Would you do me the honor

Just one more time

And be my forever 

Valentine?

Stop Wasting Time

When you waste time on facebook, you recoil from the real world and talk too much about yourself. When you recoil from the real world and talk too much about yourself, people may begin to roll their eyes and think you're a loser. When people begin to roll their eyes and think you're a loser, they stop reading all the clever things you've said and "unfriend" you.   When people stop reading all the clever things you've said and "unfriend" you,  your feelings get hurt. When your feelings get hurt, you stop bathing and going to work. When you stop bathing and going to work, you can't pay your bills. When you can't pay your bills, you become homeless and destitute. DON'T become homeless and destitute. Stop wasting time on facebook.

“The World’s Best Husband” by Susan

 I have the best husband in the world. 

He is funny. 

Not that kind of funny, but the "He Makes Me Laugh Out Loud" kind of funny. 

He is gentle and kind. 

He whispers both to the dog and feline. 

He is a friend of the woodland creatures. 

Sometimes it's like he can read my mind. 

He is a man among men who is not taken to strong drink. 

He has his opinions and, I must say, he is almost always usually right. 

He make me wonder how I ever got so lucky to marry such an extraordinary man.  

He does things for me I cannot do myself and thinks of things that would never cross my mind... 

like writing this post. 

But I would have... 

If he hadn't beaten me to it.

Earth Day Tips

 Earth Day is just a couple of days away. Here are some ideas, tips if you will, that you can use to celebrate the momentous occasion:

Write a multiple page letter on virgin paper to an old friend and send it in an envelope. Everyone likes to have their day brightened by getting mail.

Burn a log or two in your fireplace. . . April has been way too cold lately 

Drive across country in you car to visit your parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles, high school chums or casual acquaintances.

If your yard isn’t covered with snow, spread some weed killer. It’s best to nip those dandelions in the bud.

Change the oil in your vehicle. It’s the most important thing to do to promote engine longevity.

Take the kids on a snipe hunt. They’ll love the adventure and you’ll enjoy the entertainment.

Go on a vacation. In Europe. . . or Hawaii. You should probably fly. Time is of the essence.

Grill out in your backyard. Have a steak. The taste of animal meat fresh from the grill just can’t be beat. I like mine medium rare.

Have a bonfire. Roast a few weenies and make some S’mores. To make things exciting, throw in a couple of those old scrap tires you still have laying around. Black goes with everything; especially smoke contrasted against the beautiful spring colors.

Set off those leftover fireworks. Why should The Fourth of July get all the fun? Aim a few at those pesky but lovable geese that crap on everything and won’t leave your yard.  Sure it’s exciting. They’ll enjoy it almost as much as you will. Almost.

Find a still standing tree (dead or alive - you decide), and make a nice chainsaw carving. Bald Eagles and totem poles are always popular. Unicorns? not so much. My choice is Smokey Bear.

Stay tuned for more celebratory ideas.

Freedom 0 - Tyranny 7

It's official. 
The cards have been dealt and played 
The Statists; with an Ace up their sleeve.
America and individual freedom loses. 
Tyranny wins...
For now.

Under Obamacare, with the new taxes it brings and the Bush Tax Cuts expiring January 1, 2013, American households will see their federal tax burdens increase by an average of $4000 next year. I'm not really laughing. It's a sad day. http://www.examiner.com/article/taxmageddon-storm-to-hit-2013

The details of all the tax policies which expire January 1, 2013 can be found here: http://thf_media.s3.amazonaws.com/2012/pdf/ib3558.pdf

For a list of new taxes and penalties under Obamacare, see the link here: http://www.heritage.org/research/reports/2011/01/obamacare-and-new-taxes-destroying-jobs-and-the-economy

'Taxmageddon' Storm to Hit in 2013

www.examiner.com

Looks Like There Could Be Some Precipitation In The Forecast

Considering how the majority in the Supreme Court handed down their ruling this week and twisted reality to make that which is not, so, by striking down 3 of the 4 provisions in the Arizona Illegal Immigration case; I am no longer confident they will rule in favor of finding Obamacare (the flatteringly and inaccurately named "Affordable Healthcare Act"), unconstitutional. I fear we will get more rationalization, citing of foreign law and kowtowing to the tyrannical whims of an imperial president. I'm afraid they will continue to allow and enable the federal government to urinate on our collective heads... all the while they keep telling us that it is only raining. This is one instance where I hope and pray I am completely wrong.

"Birds I Hate" For $400, Alex.

Random thought:
For a small bird, the Starling is a pretty decent glider. Aside from that, I hate the little suckers; they're not native to North America and they taste so bad cats won't even eat them.

Even the rocks will cry out, "This Man Is A Fraud"!

You know it's campaign season, because Barack Obama and his staged swooners are back at it again, just as they are every time he wants to make himself seem way more popular and mesmerizing than he actually is. These occurrences of people fainting in the presence of The One are blatantly and obviously staged by Obama and his crew. Otherwise, how would Barack know that these people are merely fainting? They could be having heart attacks or suffering from some other medical malady, but the all-knowing Barack Hussein Obama has the unique ability to diagnose medical conditions from several feet or yards away - all while still remaining behind the podium. Amazing. He is also a bad actor at trying to make the scene being played out look as if it is all a spontaneous event.

It was Abraham Lincoln who said, “You may fool all the people some of the time, you can even fool some of the people all of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all the time.”

Barack Obama's presidency is dependent upon people remaining ignorant. That, and being able to fool enough of the people enough of the time. 


It has been suggested that he venture out into the crowd and heal the afflicted with a touch of his hand or at least get close enough to let them touch the hem of his pants.  The link below will take directly to the story of Obama's magical, if not medically threatening, effect on the great unwashed.


  http://www.weeklystandard.com/blogs/obama-folks-faint-all-time-my-events_633296.html

Will It Go 'Round In Circles?

My kids are fascinated by the old audio tech and have lots of questions about turntables, record albums and whether the needle starts at the outside edge and goes to the middle or the other way around. After seeing me use some older equipment, my youngest thinks we should go back to cassettes and albums because they are "cooler." There's a someone who hasn't lived long enough to appreciate the wonderment of a convenience-filled world of high tech equipment.

Stop It!

We wait "in line" for various things; rides at the amusement park, check-out lane at the grocery store, getting a driver's license at the BMV. Lately, somehow it has been catching on to say, "waiting on line," for these same type of things.

Q: Who was the genius who decided to be catchy, trendy and cute by complicating our language? When I am waiting "on line" for something it is in front of the computer for an iTunes download or placing an order at another "on line merchant" NOT standing behind some other person who is waiting "in" the same line as I am.

Who Said That?

If we could communicate telepathically, do you think the voice people would hear in their head would sound the same as the voice we talk out loud with? If I don't get an answer it's going to be another sleepless night.

Hey, Man, You Got The Stuff?

On October 24, I took my son to McDonald's after his orthodontist appointment. Yes, I had a McRib, but while there we saw a fully bearded young man who looked just like the guy from a packet of Zig-Zag rolling papers . . . complete with head covering. Of course, Drew, who is 15,  was completely clueless, even after my explanation and description, but once he Googles it he'll laugh pretty hard.

Ooo That Smell . . .

A few weeks ago it finally frosted good and hard here. Ben, my 11 year old, walks outside for the bus and says, "It smells like Winter." Then adds, "I never smelled Fall." 

How About Something In A Nice Plaid?

Amish chic . . . correction, Amish lady at the Speedway last night; obviously not buying gasoline, but did saunter up to the counter with a pack of smokes in her hand, half gallon of milk and a six pack of Miller Light long necks. So I'm thinking to myself: "If she had only gotten here sooner, she could have beaten the Amish rush and wouldn't have missed out on the Yoder Light before it was all gone."

Sarcasm: Hoping You Get It

A heartfelt thanks to Karl Marx, Woodrow Wilson, FDR, LBJ, Jimma Carter, BJ (Bill Jefferson) Clinton and Barack Hussein Obama for picking up the torch of a failed philosophy and polluting the minds of succeeding generations. Way to go, guys.

This Rose, By Another Name, Would Probably Smell Sweeter

I'm thinking diabetes should be renamed "livabetes."
Sounds way more positive.

Words Mean Things

Aside from Rosie O'Donnell, when did women stopped being "actresses" and become "actors"? It's as if journalists have forgotten the distinction when writing. I am not for this all-encompassing term that does not distinguish between male and female.  We also no longer have airline stewardesses and stewards, now they're all "Flight Attendants."  I say distinction between the sexes is a good thing.  I hate the word police and Soviet-style political correctness that we've allowed to infiltrate our society.

It's Alive!

The transplant was successful and the chainsaw's cylinder has accepted the piston and rings with no signs of rejection. I also threw in a new carburetor and fuel filter, but the best part is that I had no left over parts and it runs great.

And This Year's Repetitive Redundancy Award Winner Is . . .

I saw a sticker on the pump at the Circle K gas station last night. It said, "Please Prepay in Advance." My question is: How else would I do it? I guess they've come up with  another way of prepaying which does not involve doing it ahead of time . . . like maybe afterward?

Bread & Circuses . . . Where The Bread Is Moldy And The Entertainment Sucks

Madonna for the Super Bowl Halftime Show?   Seriously?
I thought the idea was to get people to tune in or, at least, stay tuned. 

So, out of all the musical acts, past and present, this is all they could come up with?  Conveniently for her, she has a movie which she wrote, produced and directed that opens nationally two days before the Super Bowl. Nice promotion. She is also currently working on her next album which will more than likely be another smoldering turd in a succession of smoldering turds . . . like everything else she's done for the past 10 or 15 years. Some would argue, "Her entire career."

We can always hope the Super Bowl commercials will be clever and entertaining.

All Men Die, But How Many Really Live?

A friend on facebook, Annie Kay Turnbell Fredritz, from my hometown discovered she is also a direct descendant of Col. William Crawford who was burned at the stake by indians near, what is now, Carey, Ohio in 1782. Turns out we're both 7th generation grandchildren being descended from Crawford's grandaughter, Isabella Crawford and her husband, George Washington Tong. 

What I had no idea about was after doing some digging, I found another genealogy following the line of Col. William Crawford back to 1067 in Scotland to find that Margaret de Craufurd, daughter of Sir Reginald de Craufurd, Sheriff of Ayr, married Sir Malcom Wallace and had three children, one of whom would eventually lead Scotland in its fight for independence from England. His name - Sir William Wallace. Only a distant cousin, but how cool is that?

What's In A Name?

I've been considering the alleged perversion and molestation of which Jerry Sandusky has been accused of perpetrating on young innocent boys at Penn State and at his charity, The Second Mile. Seems to me it would be a lot less confusing if Sandusky had been the guy named "McQueary,"  I'm just sayin.

A Tear-Filled Drip Of Incoherent Whispers

Alzheimer's, for those who do not know, is a cruel and nasty S.O.B.  It takes the person you know and love and empties them of most or all of the things that made them the person they were, eventually leaving only the outer shell which still looks like the person you used to know. What remains is someone who is, most times, beyond coherent communication. Someone who may be just as likely to sit and stare off at nothing as they are to sit and weep for no apparent reason, or turn to you and give you a big beaming smile.

Our mom turns 75 on September 28. My sister and I put her in an Alzheimer's care wing of a nursing home in Bluffton, Ohio a year ago this past week.  She had been diagnosed several years prior and she had reached the point where supervised apartment living was no longer a viable option for her.  I wrote the following bit of verse last year, as I drew from events that heralded our mother's time of independent living was about to come to an end.  I wrote this for my family, friends and others who know what it is like to have to deal with the heartbreak of someone afflicted with Alzheimer's.  I also wrote it for those who have not been directly touched so that they might understand. Since her seizure in May (which hospitalized her for most of a week), her, heretofore, clearly enunciated gibberish has been reduced to a slow, tear-filled drip of mostly incoherent whispers.  I saw her again last week.  This year she did not argue about her birthday as she had last year, she simply didn't remember anything about it at all.

Today is not her birthday

She defiantly insists

Today is not her birthday

Yet she can't say when it is

The room is dark, curtains tightly drawn

How long has it been

Since the time she knew what day it was

Or the month she's living in?

She sees familiar faces

Is put as ease by a warm smile

But keeps repeating questions

Although you’ve only just arrived

The bathtub, it sits empty

Collecting dust now its main task

To merely suggest  bathing

Makes you wish you hadn’t asked

The pieces of her puzzle

Do not fit and aren't much fun

Confusion now controls the day

Am I a brother or a son?

Medications neatly sorted

Beneath a month of plastic tops

Passing by them all throughout the day

She never takes them, never stops

“The world is out to get me”

“Why don’t you leave me here to die”?

Paranoia says these things . . .

Paranoia’s been known to lie

The room is still, the air is thick

How long has it been

Since the time it mattered what day it was

Or the month that she was in?

Today will be her birthday

She won't recall her gifts

Today is my Mom's birthday

And that's just the way she is.