Wednesday, October 28, 2009

It's All About Me

(I wonder if Christiane Amanpour is wearing open toed or sling backs today.)

Aging:
I now know I have gone beyond the beginning of the end. I just purchased an electric eye brow, ear and nose hair trimmer. And either my nails are growing faster or I'm shrinking.
Been sometime since I've learned how to do something new or even something different.

Lycopene in tomatoes, psyllium in my cereal, pumpkin seeds for zinc, liver for B12, hippuric acid in cranberry juice. Whatever happened to food for food's sake? Since I did not live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse, now, the best I can hope for is a poorly lit funeral. Possible epitath: He never lost his dignity, even while eating a rack of ribs from Tony Romas. I have always been charmed by the words dignity, oh, and integrity.

Regrets. I have a few, and if I had more than a few, I'd ask doc to double my SSRI doses.



Doin' It

Will do it, did it, am doing it, have done it, had it done to, had it been done by. Done. All I want for Christmas is a robust program on a new platform that is event driven--and not in blue pill form.

We old dawgs make the best tricks because we have more money and show them the way to the door asap.

Five truth or dare answers: 1. Are you kidding? I'd take the money and toss the wallet. 2. Once, but it was a consenting watermelon. 3. Yes, and a four-way and a five way and a six way (it was the 70s, didn't everyone?). 4. No, but only because my best friend is my wife, and she doesn't have a wife--if she did, then yes, yes I would. 5 Yes, by accident, but he looked like a she to me.



TV:
A military/industrial complex: trying to decide on the History Channel's "Weapons of the Waffen SS" or the Discovery Channel's "How It's Made". Why isn't the History Channel called the "Same Old Grainy Black and White World War 2 Stock Footage Channel"? Why do I continue to enjoy the same old grainy black and white World War 2 stock footage?

Can't choose between Discovery Science "Really Big Things" or the History Channel's "A Brief History of Crap". Went with Really Big Things because the crap documentary airs again today. I'd have loved to have been in the brainstorming meetings when the History Channel producers floated the idea of an hour devoted to fecal matter or when the Discovery Science folks tossed out the idea--let's do an hour on big stuff.


Being American:
No home should be without a single shot, smooth bore, flintlock musket--it's what our founding fathers would have wanted.

Unless Obama brought our two wars to an end, got China out of Tibet, established a Palestinian homeland, ended genocide in S Sudan, brought democracy to Burma, and deported Simon Cowell--and nobody told me. Maybe the Nobel people should use quick picks to give awards. Scratch, scratch, scratch--one stick of dynamite, scratch, scratch, scratch, another stick of dynamite, scratch, scratch, scratch. . . Hot Damn, I'm goin to Oslo!


America is not so unique. I've lived on three continents, in seven or eight countries, and I've never seen neighbors who knew their neighbors or found people who thought of family as less a blessing and more a burden and disappointment. Peeps are peeps. I find that comforting.

Sunday morning began for David the same as it normally does. He stumbled from his bed at 5:45 and before he checked his FB with coffee, cranberry juice, a pear and a bowl of Raisin D'Etre cereal, he peed for a very long time then found his way downstairs and slopped his eight cats. The sun was up, the heat was on and the humidity thick when David drove to the women’s campus trying not to self combust while avoiding collisions with zigzagging, racing school buses which were driven by drivers whose only previous driving experience was keeping a donkey on the move back home.

If we'd put American Samoa up for auction on EBay last month as I'd suggested, we wouldn't have to sort them out now.

It doesn't take a Cassandra to sing it: "By the time we got to Medicare, we were 79 million strong, and everywhere was song and prostate cancer."

"The children" conservationists are concerned about don't understand that if we squandering our resources today, we are encouraging future generations to be resourceful. It's sort of like why we give them an allowance.


Small acts of kindness requires backbone. I'll help you change your tire, but don't be misled into believing I am a vertebrate. I wouldn't turn down a beer.

There's no reason for me to go to the mountain nor the mountain to come to me when we can now just follow each other's tweets.


". . .lonely days are gone / I'll be right home / My baby she text me an sms. . ." Just ain't the same!

Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime. Take him to K-Paul's and order the Turducken and he'll never stoop to eating fish again.