Blog #116

Did you have a nice Memorial Day?  Hotdogs and burgers and hockey playoffs!  Memorial Day is the traditional start of the Summer Season.  The swimming pools are open and everybody’s out playing golf and tennis.  My tennis career is over because of my back, although I have played Pickle Ball recently.  Pickle Ball is tennis for dwarfs, but it’s a terrific game.

And golf?  Well, golf for my generation is an exercise in frustration.  The equipment gets better and better and you get worse and worse.  It is a sign of old age when you’re leaving the house to play golf and your wife doesn’t say, have a nice game.  She says, don’t hurt yourself.  It can be torture sometimes.  In fact, a few years ago I came up with a terrific idea and sent it off to the Pentagon. I suggested that golf be used on the detainees at Guantanamo.  I mean how much more torture could there be?  Ok, Mahmoud, tomorrow you play 36 holes.  No, no, Effendi, I tell you anything you want.

Plus, my generation no longer can play in the really hot weather we get in St. Louis.  But I find a way to tolerate it – I play in the shade.

Now golf at a hundred and three

Is never a problem for me

Yes I’ve got it made

I play in the shade

My ball’s always under a tree.

The last time we played, my wife and I played with another couple.  When she saw our bags were together on one cart, she said, “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you want to ride with me?”  Translation from female to male:  I want to ride with the other girl; you wanna make somethin’ of it?  Hey, not this poor dumb schmuck.

Hi there and welcome back.  Last week, as I’ve told you, we had tornado warnings.  Everything came out well, but my wife was extremely distraught.  You see, the first weather interruption on the television was during Jeopardy.  Carol started to have a puppy!  She would rather have the whole building destroyed than miss James racking up another $80,000. 

So what’s in the news:

ITEM:  Michael Avenatti has been charged by Federal prosecutors in New York with defrauding Stormy Daniels.  Ms. Daniels immediately tweeted:  It wasn’t Michael Avenatti who defrauded me.  It was Billy Folger in the back seat of his Chevy when I was sixteen.

ITEM:  I wrote a song for a friend to perform at a party and she sent her thanks.  I wanted to wish her luck, so I replied break a leg, but then I erased it.  You know, at our age maybe that’s not such a good thing to say anymore.  I stuck with Good Luck.

ITEM:  A recent study showed that 54% of teenagers have anger issues.  It also showed that the other 46% were furious that they were in the minority.

ITEM:  Nancy Pelosi called President Trump a liar, a criminal, a lunatic, a bully and a traitor just ten minutes before meeting with him to work out a bi-partisan infra-structure plan.  When it was suggested to her that insulting someone was not the best way to promote cooperation, Congresswoman Pelosi replied, “Insult him?  Those were the nicest things I’ve said about him in two years.”

It makes me infuriated and truly sad to see the behavior of our politicians.  Doesn’t it bother you?  Doesn’t it just make you want to sit on the floor with your favorite stuffed animal and watch re-runs of Captain Kangaroo?  Me too.

My Grandchild #1 (Zach) is 17 and graduating high school in a couple of weeks.  I had this conversation with Carol the other day:

C:  I grabbed a picture of you as a teenager and compared it to a picture of Zachary to see if you looked alike.  You don’t.

M:  What picture of me?

C:  The one of you as a teenager that was hanging next to your sister’s picture.

M:  That’s not me; it’s my brother.

C:  Oh.

Now, honestly, there is no picture of my wife at any age – three months, six years, thirteen – where I cannot immediately recognize her.  Without fail!  But me?  Well, she has, over the years, variously mistaken me for my brother, my sister, Charlton Heston, Mohammed Ali and J. Fred Muggs.  Perhaps if I put my picture next to her mirror, she might get a glimpse of me once in a while.

One of the doctors who thinks the pain in my knee is from my hip or the pain in my hip is from my back or the pain in my back is from Ethiopia – one of those august gentlemen – suggested an aural steroid.  But, this wizened charlatan warned, there are side effects you will need to watch out for.  And what might those be? I asked suspiciously.  First, he said there might be mood swings – ok, sure, I’ll watch out for those.  How could I tell?  I’m already as bi-polar as two white bears.  Then there are nervousness, increased appetite, loss of appetite, water retention, dehydration and thoughts of suicide.  Let me ask you this, Doctor, is one of those side effects that the pain goes away?  He didn’t know.  I wonder if another side effect might be thoughts of murdering your doctor.

On the holiday weekend, my Grandchild #5 (11-year-old Charley) had a soccer tournament.  I saw the first game Saturday morning but skipped the afternoon game.  Naturally, that’s when she scored a goal.  I asked my son-in-law for the video.  No video.  What?  How can that be?  You can’t blow your nose outside without someone having a video of it.  Your cat can’t spit up a hair ball without a video.  You can’t take a Sweet’N Low from a restaurant and put it in your purse without security cameras flashing your image to the FBI.  But my granddaughter scores a goal and there’s nothing!  I was unhappy.  I guess I’ll have to go to the next game.

And speaking of the next one, on a scale of one to ten, how much do you want to come back next week and read another episode?  Don’t depress me.  Just be here!  Until then, stay well and count your blessings.

Michael                          Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com