Blog #31

Every morning I throw out the trash.  This consists of tying off the trash bag which has remained in the kitchen since the morning before and now contains the junk mail, banana peels, old strings, avocado husks, empty Honey-Nut Cheerio boxes and other sundry detritus of the previous twenty-four hours.  I tie a knot, carry the bag down the hall, open the trash chute and drop it in.  The bag drops down into something and then someone takes it somewhere.  They must care; they must have it under control, for I never see it again.  How simple.  How easy to dispose of all the physical trash and to start the new day fresh and free.  If only we could cleanse the mental garbage as effortlessly as the physical.  Just toss out the medical problems, the money worries, the anxiety for those we love, the disorientation and useless feelings of old age – throw them all in a large, recyclable, renewable, free-range, gluten-free bag and toss them down the same chute.  Let them mix with the banana peels and go wherever the empty avocados go.  And start the new day fresh and free.  

 

Recently we were in California and we took 007 and 008 to a museum for kids.  Oh, did I tell you I’ve given up on my grandchildren’s names and substituted numbers instead?  It’s like the British Secret Service – 007:  Licensed to Adore.  On second thought, maybe the number system won’t work.  

Each granddaughter, every grandson

Is loving and special and fun

They make my life great

And although there are eight

To me they are all #1.

Back to the museum which we shall call the Yummy Museum.  Here was the sign on the wall; I am not making this up!

Diversity Statement:

Yummy Museum is a community resource where all families raising young children are welcome. You are included without regard to race, age, gender, physical ability, sexual orientation, family structure, citizenship, or socioeconomic background.

Wow, it must have taken them a long time to decide which kinds of people they will not discriminate against.  I did not see a category for People who read Moby Dick or People who drink Diet Cokes on the list.  Why do we have to make an endless list of differences for which we will not discriminate? Why can’t we just say everybody is welcome?  Or, in Yummy’s case, everybody is welcome if you have $5.00 admission and no nuts. (It’s a peanut-allergy thing. You have a filthy mind.)  Really, a simple “Everyone Is Welcome” sign in 47 languages and Esperanto would be just fine.  And what’s with the family structure item?  Do they think we expect to be rejected because our family has two fathers, six mothers, a crazy uncle and a camel?  C’mon Yummy, lose the guilt of the world and just say everybody’s welcome. 

It seems like the more tolerant our society purports to be, the more we tend to cubbyhole everyone into racial, religious and sexual corners.  But what do I know?  I’m just an elderly, Jewish, third generation Russian-American, carnivorous, Midwestern, average height, Caucasian, married, straight, male United States citizen who can recite The Raven.  You can call me Poppy.

In any event, we had a wonderful time at the museum and by the time we left, 007 and 008 were happy and sleepy.  I guess that makes me Dopey and Grumpy.  And as Snow White used to say to all the dwarfs, “I do not discriminate on the basis of height or silly names.  But no nuts.”  Snow had a filthy mind too.

Welcome back to Limerick Oyster where everyone is welcome, even you people with filthy minds.  And speaking of your minds, do you remember the three words I asked you to remember last week?  If your next thought is, “What is this Bozo talking about”, you failed.  They were apple, penny and table.  Did you do it?

I hope you are well today.  What shall we talk about?  It seems we have already talked of many things, so let’s just talk about stuff.  I have three daughters, each with a passel of children and some pets.  I adore them all, even the pets, but I have come to the conclusion that a house with children can never be truly tidy.  It’s not that the children are messy or the parents are messy; it’s just that there’s so much stuff.

·        Stuff that the older one grew out of and they’re waiting for the younger one to grow into

·        Stuff that the younger one grew out of and they should have given away three years ago

·        Stuff that their spouses brought home and lost interest in before the week was out

·        Stuff that the cat used to play with

·        Stuff that – aw, that was my grandmother’s

·        Stuff that – well, I might need that sometime

·        Stuff that – hey, that’s not even mine

Speaking of old stuff, I was at McDonald’s today, reading a book, when a lady my age came up to me.  “Oh,” she said, “I love old books and that looks like an old one.”  It was a nature book I got from the library, published in 1960, so indeed it was an old book – 57 years.  The sobering and depressing conclusion to that thought is that I was 14 when it was published.  How did I get this old?  There’s a lesson to be learned here -- never use an old book as a chick-magnet.  It only attracts old chicks.  Come to think of it, I like old chicks.  I’m married to one.  I think I’ll stick with the old books, the old chicks, the old songs and all that old stuff that clutters up my closet.  And if that makes all the young people think I’m “old” – well, that’s about the only thing they got right.

I like to look at other people’s books.  I can learn a lot by the books somebody reads.  I can tell what they like, whether we have similarities in taste, what interests them.  I can start conversations with a person just by looking at the book he’s reading.  But now people have “devices”.  I can’t tell what they’re reading on a device.  I don’t have a device; I have a book.  I like to smell it, feel it, hold it --   and fight off all the old chicks it attracts.

I just heard a terrifying news broadcast on the radio that went like this:  Avalanche destroys Detroit; Flames burn Vancouver; Hurricanes rip through Florida; Lightning decimates Philadelphia.  My God, I thought, has the world come to an end?  I was relieved when I learned it was just the hockey scores.

It's time to take out the trash, so I’ll end it here.  Stay well and come back next week.  And bring your friends.  Everyone is welcome here at Limerick Oyster.  No admission fee.  Bring your own nuts.

Grumpy                         Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com