Blog #118

I pick on my wife a lot in my blogs, especially last week, but this week I promise I’m not going to pick on her.  Last Tuesday was our 52^nd Anniversary.  Carol is a beautiful and special partner who has given me a spectacular family and a glorious 52 years.  She is the sunshine of my life! So, Honey, in honor of our anniversary, I won’t pick on you this week.

There, that was easier than buying a bunch of flowers, wasn’t it?  Seriously, Carol and I have had a wonderful marriage, although sometimes I feel like we have failed to share things equably.  For instance, we have, between us, two holes-in-one.  She has both.  And we have, between us, 112 wrinkles.  I have them all.

Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you are feeling well.  Let’s see what’s shakin’, bakin’ and quakin’ around here.  Last night, I settled into bed and put on a movie I had taped – The Miracle Worker about Helen Keller.  Ten minutes before the end, Carol reached for a box of tissues and I grabbed a handkerchief.  We knew what was coming, and we knew we couldn’t watch the last scene without crying.  We sobbed and bawled and carried on like babies.  It was great!

ITEM:  Jeff Bezos, CEO of Amazon, received a salary from Amazon in 2018 of $86,000.  That seems low, doesn’t it?  He must have gotten some stock options or something in addition.

ITEM:  Jeff Bezos, CEO of Amazon, just purchased a condo on Fifth Avenue in New York for $80 million.  See, I told you.

ITEM:  James Holzhauer, the Jeopardy guy, finally lost, and the ratings for the show have plummeted.  On his last day, the viewership was 13 million.  On the next day, the show was watched by a drunk sleeping at a bar in Scranton and two of the contestants’ mothers.

ITEM:  Last week the country celebrated the anniversary of D-Day, and I was thinking that I bet less than 10% of Americans know what the D in D-Day stands for.  I’ll tell you later.

ITEM:  In a public relations gesture, a resort in the Dominican Republic has offered special rates to anyone surviving the disastrous climbing season on Mt. Everest.  The offer includes free drinks from the mini-bar.

I just took a break to read my e-mails.  Each week I get a lot of e-mails from you, mostly complimentary.  Things like you’re very funny and I never knew you were that funny.  Dave Barry said, “Being funny, when it’s your job, is work.”  I suppose it is, but it’s fun.

Among my other e-mails, I get ads from all the places I shop.  Today I got one from eBay.  ANTI-AGING PRODUCTS, it said.  GET THEM WHILE THEY’RE HOT.   I think it should have said, GET THEM WHILE YOU’RE STILL WARM.

Are you manic-depressive?  😊 ☹  I am, a bit, but I notice the depressive side seems to win most days.  I don’t ever recall waking up and feeling so happy that I run around stuffing roses up my nose and helping some old ladies cross the street.  Take this morning, for instance.  I woke up and lay in bed taking inventory, making sure all my moving parts were still moving.  I finally got all my organ-systems working in a semi-coordinated fashion and was reasonably confident I could get out of bed and impersonate a functional human being.  At least long enough to find some old ladies to help me cross the street.

I’m like everybody else – on those days when my Moon is not in the Seventh House, I tend to bitch.  That’s really why I have you, you know.  I mean, who else can I complain to?  My wife?  It’s unsatisfying to complain to a woman who is reading a book, watching Jeopardy, playing Words With Friends and cooking all at the same time.  Oops, I promised not to pick on her.  My bad. Sorry, Honey!  And yes, she cooks.  And very well, I might add.

Anyway, I started this blog so I would have somebody to complain to.  Aren’t you lucky?  Suck it up!  Here goes:  

I’m limping around like a clown

I struggle to just get around

I’m getting so feeble

If I were a Weeble

I’d be the first one to fall down.

I am, however, not too feeble to drive 13½ hours for my grandson’s high-school graduation in North Carolina.  On the road, we stopped for lunch at – wait for it!  I know you all said McDonald’s, but you would all be wrong.  We stopped at Hardee’s.  What?  You’re a McDonald’s guy.  Yes, I know, but I just felt adventurous.  That’s sad, isn’t it.  The adventure in my life is eating at Hardee’s.  Not Sir Edmund Hillary climbing Mt. Everest, not Charles Darwin exploring the Galapagos, not Lewis and Clark reaching the Pacific Ocean.  Just Carol and Michael reaching a Hardee’s somewhere in Indiana.  Pathetic. 

And of course we listened to three hours of Dr. Laura, the radio psychologist.  Have you listened to her lately?  She has a new phone number:  1-800 BITCH.  I mean, she is the cruelest, most brutal woman on Earth.  These poor women call in wanting help with an emotional problem, and leave wanting an overdose of arsenic.  I think she’s caused more women to commit suicide than the Trump election.  She even has a catalog of Suicide Merchandise – guns, poisons, ropes.  They have a Family Special this week on nooses, two for the price of one, for when you and the spouse want to hang out together. 

Ok, the D in D-Day is the D in Day.  You see, in military-speak, D-Day means the day chosen for some major event.  They also use H-Hour to designate the time of the event.  I suppose they would use M-Minute as well.  Kind of disappointing, I know, but true.

Time to go.  But I’ll be back next week, so stay well, count your blessings and do something adventurous yourself.  Here’s a suggestion -- I just heard that a hole has been found in the wall of a nearby nudist camp.  I think you should look into it.  Don’t hurt yourself.

Michael                          Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com