Blog #82

Nobody read my blog last Thursday because you were all glued to the Kavanaugh hearings.  Seriously now, what’s more important – the most riveting, slanderous and ribald Congressional hearing in the nation’s history or my blog?  The results are in and it’s clear that you would rather hear about high-school farting and college flashing than read witty and intelligent prose.  I guess I’ll just have to sink to your level by telling you about a new line of breakfast cereals geared to the sleazy and lascivious among us.  The brands include Captain Raunch, Froot Lewds and Porn Flakes.  There, are you happy now?

Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you are feeling well and staying away from all the natural shocks that flesh is heir to.  (A little Shakespeare there.)  I’m good, except my back feels about as happy as a guy who was betting on the Cardinals.  I remember fifty years ago when we would get together with friends and talk about who was pregnant and who was buying a house and who got a promotion.  Now we get together and talk about who’s in the hospital and who’s in the nursing home and who’s in the obituaries.   Pretty sad.  Please don’t get sick and don’t fall and don’t forget my name.

Next Monday is Columbus Day.  I’m not sure exactly why we celebrate a day for a man who never set foot on this continent.  Nothing around here was named after him except a city in Ohio.  And, of course, he was a nasty white European colonialist who ordered the extermination of indigenous populations.  But he made good pomodoro sauce, so I guess it’s alright.  The day has turned into something of a celebration of Italian Heritage, even though there was no such country as Italy in Chris’ day.  He was from Genoa, a country unto itself, and sailed under the flag of Spain – which is why everybody south of the border is Hispanic, not Histalian.  Isn’t this informative?  It’s like continuing education.

Columbus was actually lost when he discovered America.  He was looking for India.  He should have had my wife along with him.  She would have set him straight.

The crew is all down with infections

You haven’t met any projections

You’re sailing too slow

You don’t know where to go

Pull over and ask for directions.

Is it just me, or are all men so poorly disregarded by women?  Sure, when they need to know how to spell something or how to screw in a lightbulb or they need a poem for their cat’s neutering party or whatever – they come right to me.  But when it comes to driving, dressing, directions or common sense, they avoid me like Harvey Weinstein.  Am I that useless?  (This is the part where you go to your computers and e-mail poor, helpless old Michael and tell him how respected and important and loved he is.  That’ll be nice.)

Let’s move on to something light and amusing.  Like baseball.  Even though the Cardinals’ chances are deader than Bill Cosby’s Mastercard, the Baseball Playoff Season is here.  Did you know that Cosby was a football player at Temple University?  Temple just announced yesterday that they were retiring his number – PA4974482.

I hear Cosby is going to manage a new Major League Baseball team next year, the San Quentin Felons.  Their uniforms are striped and some of these guys actually stole second base.  The pitcher and catcher are known as the Aggravated Battery.  When they announce the lineup, these guys really get in a lineup.  How many more do you want?  The numbers on the back of their uniforms read 5 to 10 or 20 to life. 

Here’s the roster: Enos Manslaughter, Alcatraz Pujols, Barry Bondsman, Ernie Banksrobber, Don Larceny, Roger Clemency, Yadier Molester, Babe Ruthless and Johnnie Benchwarrant. 

Now that we have entered the last quarter of the year, the 2019 calendars are available.  Wow, 2019!  The decades fly by, don’t they?  Anyway, I heard they have a thirteen-month calendar available.  I wonder what they’re going to call the thirteenth month.  Maybe they’ll play nothing but Beatles and Stones music during that extra month and call it Rocktober.  Maybe they’ll add a month in honor of Bill Cosby and call it Rapril.  Or a month dedicated to destroying the reputations of Supreme Court nominees.  We’ll call it Kavanaugust.

Carol gets up earlier than I do.  Last Saturday morning, she got out of bed, went to the living room and, of course, turned on the television.  Within a few seconds I heard her scream, “OH NO!”  What could it be, I wondered.  What disaster had she witnessed on the television that could make her so upset?  Had Jane Fonda found a wrinkle?  Had Meghan Markle cracked a nail?  Had some woman claimed that Brett Kavanaugh pinched her Barbie Doll when they were in pre-school?  Whatever it was, I had to come to her rescue.  So I hopped out of bed (well, I can’t actually hop) and ran to the living room (I can’t really run either).  “What’s wrong?” I inquired.  Her answer?  We’re losing 8-4 in the Ryder Cup.

I was relieved.  Much better than Jane Fonda finding a wrinkle.  Carol is obsessed with beautiful women.  Heidi Klum – who can argue with that?  Jane Fonda – Carol just watched a Jane Fonda special on HBO.  Melania Trump – “she’ll dump him as soon as he’s out of office”.  Kate and Meghan – the English Royalty.  The Royals are her major obsession – first Diana, then Kate and now Meghan.  My wife is most assuredly a princess; all she lacks is a crown.  I think when Queen Liz dies, Carol will start sending casseroles to Phillip.

It’s not fair to be jealous of people just because they’re beautiful.  As Charles Dickens said, Persons don’t make their own faces, and it’s no more my fault if mine is a good one than it is other people’s fault if theirs is a bad one. 

There you go – stories about Columbus, quotes from Dickens and Shakespeare.  You don’t get that from Congressional hearings!  And on that obvious note, I shall end Blog #82 with a cloud of dust and a hearty “High-ho, Silver! Awaaaaaaaay!”  Stay well.  Count your blessings.  See you next week.

Michael                                    Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com