Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Blog #14

You’re Special!  That’s what the little pamphlet that was hidden in my library book said.  It went on with some religious stuff, and that’s ok, but it was just nice to be told that I was special.  So, listen up – you’re special.  You take the time each week to read my silly ramblings and that makes you special to me.  Welcome back.  I hope you’re doing well.

I have had many readers ask me where I get all the humorous stories I share with you.  Well, life is funny.  Plenty of humorous things happen around you all the time.  You just need someone to point out a different way of looking at them.  Henry David Thoreau said, “It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.”

Take The Gift of the Magi for instance, that heart-wrenching short story by O Henry. You know the plot.  A young married couple is very much in love but also very much in poverty.  She wants to buy him a silver chain for his cherished pocket watch, a gift from his grandfather, but she has no money, so she cuts her long, beautiful hair and sells it to a wig maker to get the money for the chain.  Meanwhile, he wants to buy her a set of ornate combs for her long hair but all he has is the watch.  He sells it and buys the combs.  A classic and sad tale.  Sad?  Not one bit.  Just fast-forward six months.  The girl’s hair has grown back and she still has the combs.  Plus, she returned the silver watch chain and got her money back.  So now she has her long hair and the combs and a fist full of money.  And the boy, the poor dumb schmuck, he doesn’t even know what time it is.  But he’s happy.  He has a loving wife with a fist-full of money and beautiful hair – and big combs.

W. C. Fields, one of the best known and most audacious movie personalities of the early 20th century, was known to drink a bit.  One night at a party, a matronly woman said, “Mr. Fields, you are disgustingly drunk.”  “Yes, Madam,” he replied, “I am disgustingly drunk and you are disgustingly ugly.  But tomorrow I shall be sober.”

I remember when arcade video games came out.  We got an Atari in 1975 or so, and I remember two games I liked – Pong and Breakout.  That was a long time ago.  Now, kids are obsessed with all the games on Wii or Xbox or on a million phone aps.  My nine-year-old granddaughter, Charley, dragged me down in her basement the other day to show me her Wii.  “Look Poppy,” she said, and showed me a new game character she had created.  It was called Poppy and wore a yellow shirt (my favorite color) and had gray hair.  It also had an excessive collection of wrinkles.  I turned to Charley and asked if all those wrinkles were necessary.  She examined my face closely, smiled and said, “Yes.”  That’s ok, a grandfather is someone with silver in his hair and gold in his heart.  I watched her play a game with the new character.  There he was, wrinkles and all, limping around the course and taking all the wrong exits.  Go, Poppy! 

Do you recycle?  I mean I love the planet and I hate to waste, but today you need an engineering degree to know how to recycle.  My sweet daughter Stephanie in California has four containers in the kitchen (well, it’s California!).  I can’t remember what each one is for, but when we visit I always bring an empty suitcase just to put my trash in.  I can’t risk putting a compost item into a landfill bucket.  Heaven knows what havoc that would create in the state economy, so I just bring it all home. 

My Jennifer in North Carolina has an even more complicated system.  She has chickens, so you have to decide between compost (she makes her own), trash, recycle and chickens.  One afternoon she decided to give last night’s leftover eggplant parmesan to the chickens.  Who feeds their chickens eggplant parmesan?  But before she carried it down to the coop, she saw me and asked if I wanted some.  I declined, but told her I was grateful that I was mentioned in the same category as the poultry.  I guess that puts me just above compost.  Hey, as long as I know where I stand.  And yes, the chickens will eat leftover chicken.  I think there’s some biblical injunction against that (“You shall not seethe a kid in his mother’s milk”), but the last time we showed a Bible to the chickens, they ate it.

My wife went to see Madame Butterfly the other evening.  People in my generation know that’s an opera.  My grandchildren think it’s a monster movie.  My friend Larry loves opera, and I have been to five operas with him.  I have hated every single minute of every one.  I must be a philistine, because opera is just not for me, but I like Larry and I go just to keep him company.  The last one we saw was La Donna del Lago by Rossini and consisted of five really good singers spending four hours telling us (in Italian) how miserable they were and how each one wanted to die.  Would that I could have helped them!  About midway through the second act, one of them thankfully succeeded in dying, whereupon the other four became instantaneously jubilant and took about 40 minutes to tell us so.  And that was it.  The story took place in Scotland amid warring Scottish clans, and I did learn a lot about the Scots: 

The Scots ride the hills on a stallion
And fish the cold seas in a galleon
They learn when they’re young
The pure English tongue
But sing all their songs in Italian.

Stop your groaning!  You go find two words that rhyme with Italian!

I told you we got an Alexa.  Progress is a wonderful thing, but it does have its challenges.  I just heard this exchange:

Carol:    Alexa, play some Barbra Streisand music.
Alexa:   I cannot find a movie of that name near you.
Carol:    No, Alexa, play some Streisand music.
Alexa:   Ok, connecting you to the Albanian Embassy.
Carol:   Damn it, Alexa, PLAY BARBRA STREISAND!
Alexa:   Getting directions to the nearest farmers’ market.

I know you’ve had the same conversation before.  And speaking of high-tech troubles, some of you have still not figured out how to get the blog automatically by email.  Ok, if you can’t, you can’t.  Then make yourself a note to go each week to:

limerickoyster.blogspot.com

And catch up on the ones you’ve missed.  I’m counting on you.  I spend hours and hours writing, re-writing and re-re-writing (is there such a thing?) these blogs.  I’m relying on you to stay tuned.  Jeesh!  Meanwhile, stay well, and shihemi javen tjeter.  That’s Albanian for see you next week.  The Embassy was very nice.
 
Michael

Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com

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