Cheeky Quote

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Fa La Blah

At the risk of sounding a little Scrooge like, I must confess to a deep seated dislike of Christmas carols.

I like spreading cheer as much as the next guy, but there's just something about a bunch of people on my porch singing off key in the freezing cold that gets me. I'm cold, they're cold, it's late, yet they feel compelled to sing. Not just the tunes everyone knows, but every line of every Carol, making sure to hit every verse, even the obscure ones that no one knows.

There are the mortified faces of the teenagers who never thought their parents would make good on the threat to head out and sing, who constantly swing their heads back and forth making sure their friends are nowhere near. There's the gray haired soprano that simply refuses, even for just one merciful second, to sing in unison. And there's always one dude in a top hat and scarf festooned with candy canes and tassels. Where do you even get a top hat? Seriously?

Please, all ye merry carolers, take your wasseling down the street or I'm going to get all kinds of King Winceslass on you.

When on my front lawn there arose such a clatter.
I threw open the door and said what blankety-blank is the matter?
There stood a rag tag mob grouped on my stoop
Singing at the their top of their lungs all sounding like poop
I said for the love of all things Saint Nick
Your crooning and mooing is making me quite sick
I give you a clap for your spirit and cheer
But ya'll got to get up on out of here
Here's an idea that would be really neat
Move on two houses further down the street
Once you guys are finally out of sight
I'll sigh Merry Christmas to all,
and to all a good night!!

Sunday, November 22, 2009

As Seen On TV

Sit down for this, you're not going to believe it, but a TV commercial lied. Lied is harsh, I guess. Let's just say the commercial grossly overstated a product's ability to function in any way, shape, or form close to the manner in which it was demonstrated on an obviously rigged, made to look like a live action, commercial.

Yes, I'm referring to the Slap Chop. I got one for my birthday a few weeks ago. Only recently have I had a chance to get it out of the cabinet and take it for a test chop.

The overly-spiked, amped up blond guy on TV pulled a Sham-Wow on everyone with this worthless hunk of junk.

I slapped fast, slapped slow, slapped hard, slapped soft, slapped half-way, slapped it til it bottomed out. The frustrating device was slapped every way imaginable.

It doesn't chop, per se, mostly mashes and then conveniently leaves the pulpy results stuck to the blades for added enjoyment. Consequently, I have christened the device the "Stick and Pry".

The Stick and Pry was/is a big disappointment. It was a gift, which means I didn't have to pay separate shipping and handling at least.

Kids, let this be a lesson to you. Not everything shilled on television works as well as the Flowby. Buyer beware. Love the Flowby. Love it.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Where Art Though

Blog, oh Blog, where have I been
My trusty social media friend

Lately, in case you couldn't tell
I haven't been blogging so well

It's not you, your programs, or format
It's not your fonts, your themes, or any of that

No, I believe the fault lies with me
A bout of blogging laziness I believe

Really, where else can I rant
Or make fun of life's miscreants (That's right. It rhymes. Give it a minute)

There's absolutely no better place to prattle
about my son, my colon, or my treadmill battles

I've given many a friend a dogging
about their noticeable lack of blogging

Sad, but I now know
It's my time to eat some Blogspot crow

So to you my blog, I apologize
And vow to make you a bigger part of my life (It's a soft rhyme. Deal with it.)

To you, my dear friends of which I've made sport
Know I too have been found guilty in the non-blogging court

I will change my ways, this indictment is all it took
To remind me there's more to life then just Facebook

So here we go kids, let's find the funny
And laugh at the nonsense until our noses are runny

Thank you, gentle readers, that is all.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Done

There it was. On my credenza. Twenty three pages worth. I stared at it for a long time tonight.

Funny. The story came to me in a flash, laid out easy. I could see it clearly.

Writing it, however, not so easy. I have notes from as far back as November 2008.

No, it's not the Magna Carta, nor is it bound to make women weep and men change religions.
Yet, I treated it as such.

Nervously, I handed the thing to my wife tonight, making her put down the book she was already reading, actually enjoying.

Twenty three pages, almost a year in the making, pouring over each edit like my life depended on it, and I got a polite "Eeh, it was...OK." when she finished.

I know there's a reason I write. I just wish I knew what the heck it was.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

That Bites

We're on hour twelve of "Tooth Watch" at our house.

A stubborn incisor refuses to give up the ghost, dangling precariously from the last remaining shard of a pediatric root. It came loose this morning and remains still.

The tooth is so loose that he can push it completely out of his mouth and close his lips around it. He looks like Aunt Mildred's snaggle toothed chihuahua. Poor kid.

The tooth fairy has been put on Defcon 1 alert.

Mixed bag. Every time he smiles I'm hit with two feelings: overwhelming joy from seeing him grow and dread from the certain bloodletting the orthodontists will demand from me someday.

Good times gentle readers. Good times.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Patches

Talking with an old friend at the reunion this weekend. We were joking about all the band and choir classes we took in high school, marveling at how we actually managed to accumulate enough quality credits to graduate.

A comment was made that my friend didn't put all of his choir patches on his letter jacket, not one to tempt fate among the more devout of the athletic lot in high school. We got a good chuckle out of that.

Got me thinking. My old jacket is gathering dust in the back of the closet. So, out it came.

Apparently back in high school I subscribed to theory that more is not enough when it comes to music patches. It would appear that worries about a linebacker blitz on my musical nerd-dom were a secondary concern to finding enough uncovered material on the jacket.

I can just see me now, back in the day...

"Oh no, you don't want none of this pal. See this? Yeah, that's right, All-State choir alternate.
Don't be eye-balling me man. Don't make me go a capella on you. See this one? All District band, little something I picked up in 'nam fella. So, step off. I will drop a b-flat shock and awe on you that will rock your world. Better recognize!"

There was actually a patch on a patch. Ridiculous.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Parents Preogative

My wife was looking through some old pics we had on the computer. There was cute one of our little guy smooching his little girl friend when he was four.

He happened to breeze by when the pic was pulled up and got all sorts of embarrassed.

Isn't it our mission as parents to possess and employ multiple means by which to embarrass our children? I think so.

His parting shot as he quickly ran away from the image on the screen, "Can't you all see the shame in that?"

So awesome.