Blog #67
A few weeks ago, I was trying to describe to you how
hot it was. I told you it was so hot
that J-Lo had traded Marc Anthony for Ice T.
Cute, right? Well Abby, my
youngest daughter, corrected me. J-Lo
apparently divorced Marc Anthony several years ago and is now an item with
A-Rod. I’d apologize for my mistake, but
I know you don’t give a rat’s posterior which alphabet soup J-Lo is dating this
week. I have so much to do and cannot
waste my time on which multi-millionaire actress is dating which mega-millionaire
athlete and who is cheating on whom and who is having whose baby and what they
are wearing or how much they weigh. I’m
too old for that.
I
don’t care whose baby they’re carryin’
No
interest in whom they are marryin’
Not
one bit of passion
For
any Kardashian
I’m
just an old septuagenarian.
And by the way, as long as I’m bitching, I might as
well get it all out of my system. Who
came up with initial-names like J-Lo and A-Rod?
Do they think that’s a new thing?
Nope, those kinds of names have been around since the Romans. In fact, Cleopatra’s nickname for Julius
Caesar was Ju-C. That was before Cleo
got involved with Mark Antony. Which was before Mark Antony changed his name to Marc Anthony and got involved with J-Lo. It’s complicated.
Back when I was young, there were plenty of
celebrities with cute nicknames. Here
are some:
Tom
Selleck was T-Sell Lloyd
Nolan was L-No
Doris
Day was D-Day Sandra
Dee was San-D
Red
Buttons was Red-Butt Julie
Christie was Ju-Christ
And Isaac Newton was referred to as I-New. Yes, he did.
Welcome back, everyone. Are you feeling ok? Did you have a nice Father’s Day? Mine was great – some cards and little gifts
and warm thoughts from my three daughters and my eight grandchildren and my
wife. Lovely! I’m glad I’m not raising kids today. It just seems like the world has changed so
much, and not all for the better, but let’s hold that topic for another day.
Everybody says that retail is dead, but I’m not so
sure. Now trending are small stores that
specialize in only one or two items. It makes
life so simple. For instance, if
you need bags, go to Sacks. If you need bagels or donuts, go to Hole
Foods. And
if you need dice, go to Seven-Eleven.
I’ve had a cough for weeks, and I finally decided to
go to Dr. Intern. I’m usually reluctant
to visit doctors. There are two reasons:
1) because the doctor might find something really bad which I probably should
know about but don’t want to, and 2) because Carol usually knows more than the
doctor. But this had been going on for a
while and I just wanted some antibiotic to kill it. So I went and I got the prescription, but
when I picked it up, the chief pharmacist drew me aside to voice his concern
that this particular antibiotic, when taken with another of my medications, can
cause some serious side effects. He had
ok’d it with Dr. Intern, but still felt the need to give me a written list.
I started to read the list of possible side effects. The first group included the ever-popular
internal bleeding, stomach pains and swelling, but I thought I could take the
chance. In the second group, the word
“death” caught my attention, but what the heck, nobody lives forever. The next group included back pain, blurred
vision and confusion, but I already have those.
The last group included the deal breaker – acne. I’d rather cough.
I was at the Zoo yesterday handing out maps and
important answers to highly intricate and technical questions like Where’s
the bathroom? When I handed one
tourist a Zoo map with the words ZOO
MAP clearly emblazoned thereon, she asked me, “Is this a map to the
Zoo?” Dumb as a pot-sticker. “No,” I replied calmly, “it’s a map of
Venezuela in case you’re planning to visit there later.” Jeesh!
Another tourist, upon receiving his map, handed me a $5 tip. Wow, I must really have looked old and
decrepit! I refused and told him to buy
his daughter an ice-cream instead.
If
you’re depressed, go to Lows. If
you want to buy marijuana, go to Quick Trip.
And if you want to take your first wife to lunch, go to Fed Ex.
Back to the pharmacist and the Zoo. After about fifteen minutes at the Zoo, I had
an overwhelming attack of dizziness and had to be treated by the medics. It was the pills. See, never make fun of your pharmacist.
Last week I mentioned Carol likes those colorful,
anti-slip hospital socks. My friend
Bruce was in the hospital when he read that blog, so he requisitioned a pair of
socks and gave them to Carol as a present.
Sure, I slave and strain for hours every day on my blog, sweating and
squeezing my superannuated brain cells for their last bits of amusing fluff just to entertain my loyal readers!
And who gets the present? She does. I know how Rodney Dangerfield felt.
If
you need cheap landscaping, go to Dollar Tree. If
you need help in doing a blog, go to Write Aid. Or if you’re looking for a boorish,
insulting and obnoxious man, go to Dicks.
I got a letter today
addressed to Resident. Here’s what it
said, word for word, no joke: Dear
Jesus, we pray that you will bless someone in this home spiritually, physically
and financially.
Do they think Jesus lives
here? Who knows? I looked everywhere. I even looked in the bathtub. He could be taking a walk. I’ve heard of Dear John letters and Dear
Santa and Dear Abby, but Dear Jesus? I should
be careful what I write about Jesus. He
could sneak out of wherever He’s hiding and read it. And my luck – I’d be the first person He
doesn’t forgive.
Well, you’ll forgive me,
won’t you, if I apologize for anything I’ve said in the last sixty-seven weeks
that has shocked, insulted, scandalized or disappointed you? I’ve been married fifty-one years, so I’m
good at apologies. Come to think of it,
I retract it all. I am who I am and you
get what you get. I’m not apologizing to
anyone. Except Carol. So come back next week and be shocked and
scandalized some more. I know you love it.
Count your blessings, stay well and watch out for the heat. I’ll see you next week.
No comments:
Post a Comment