Blog #120

Get ready, world!  Next week is Carol’s Birthday, an extended celebratory fête lasting the length of a hockey season, during which she is taken to lunches, dinners, brunches and snacks by every woman, it seems, in North America.  There are so many cakes and candles that I believe it affects the global temperature. 

Each day if it’s sunny or storming

You can’t stop the long lines from forming

The candles and cakes

Why the heat that it makes

Explains why we have global warming.

I usually don’t comment on my limericks, but this one needs a discussion.  The limerick rhymes when I say it, but were my wife to read it aloud, it would sound different.  You see, she has a Midwestern accent which causes forming and farming to be pronounced the same.  And makes horse rhyme with farce and 40 sound like farty.  I know -- you say potato and I say potato, but it matters to the limerick scheme, so I’m attaching an alternate version for those of you who say, “Nobody puts Baby in a carner.”  Here it is:

I know that my dear wife is charming

But these parties are getting alarming

The candles and cakes

Why the heat that it makes

Explains why we have global warming.

Hi there and welcome back.  I have just realized that to people with St. Louis accents, the above makes no sense because, to them, storming, forming, charming and alarming all rhyme.  I give up. 

Earlier this evening, I had dinner with two of my grandkids at Qdoba.  I saw something new on the menu and decided to try it.  I had an Impossible Burrito.  That’s right, me, Mr. Beans Never, Spinach Seldom and Kale, Feh!  I had an Impossible Burrito.  As you know, the Impossible part is fake meat.  It’s totally vegetable matter that looks like hamburger (almost) and tastes like hamburger (nah).  But it was fine, mixed in with the rest of the stuff.  The biggest adjustment was mental.  I mean it looked like meat and tasted kind of like meat, but it was all plant.  What was I to think?  It was like eating Audrey Two.

Carol, the almost-birthday girl, is at this moment in the other room doing the Sudoku, reading a book and watching a talent show.  She watches them all – The X Factor, The Voice, Idol, Little Big Shots.  She doesn’t miss any of them, and now the library of talent shows is expanding rapidly.  She’s already started to tape two new ones.  The first pits licensed plumbers against each other to see how quickly they can diagnose and repair water leaks.  It’s called America’s Got Toilets.  I think it’s hosted by Elon Flush.  The other features a bunch of young Vietnamese women competing against each other and is called So You Think You Can Polish.

Last week, the Valedictorian of a San Diego high school included the following in her speech to the assembled class, faculty and administration:

To the teacher that was regularly intoxicated this year, thank you for using yourself to teach these students about the dangers of alcoholism. To my counselor, thank you for letting me fend for myself – you were always unavailable.

Ok, good for her, they deserved it, you go girl and all that other bullshit.  I know that you love and agree with everything I write (or maybe not), but this time, I expect you will not like what I’m about to say.  When did we decide to tolerate this kind of sanctimonious and arrogant rudeness from teenagers?  It was earlier this year that a group of pre-teens challenged Senator Dianne Feinstein to support the Green New Deal.  They were loud, disruptive and completely rude.  Twelve-year-olds!

I know all your grandchildren are geniuses.  Mine too.  It’s like Lake Wobegon where all the children are above average.  And maybe they’re smarter than you.  And maybe they’re smarter than me.  And maybe they’re even smarter than a United States Senator with thirty years’ experience in public service.  Even so, who taught them that rudeness plus disrespect is the recipe for future success?  So okay, Smarter-than-Me teenager, have you ever had a job?  Have you ever lost a job?  Have you ever raised a family?  Have you ever sat in a hospital room with your sick child?  Have you ever worried about paying a mortgage?  Your parents have!  Maybe there’s still something out there for you to learn. 

You still there?  Well I’m not.  I’m in South Carolina, stopped for the night at a Red Roof.  Nothing under it, just the roof.  I drove about eleven hours in Abby’s van with three grandkids watching videos in the back, my son-in law in the middle row working on his computer, Carol next to him reading a book and Abby (Daughter #3) in the shot-gun.  Abby reads the crossword clues and between us, we killed three NY Times Sunday puzzles.  Plus, she’s the navigator.  She uses “Ways” or something and she sometimes changes the navigating voice.  She had Buzz Lightyear for a while, but he kept calling me Cowboy and that was annoying.  Take a right turn, Cowboy.  Annoying.  Then she switched to Cookie Monster.  Really.  But twice he told me, “Take next exit, buy me cookie at Quik Shop.”  I asked her if she could get Carol’s voice giving me directions on the phone.  She somehow got it to work, but the first thing the Carol-Voice said was, “Are you lost yet, Putz?  It’s a good thing I’m here or you’d wind up in Ethiopia.  Get into the other lane.  And put your foot on it.  I don’t have all day.  And no, you cannot take a potty stop.  I’ll let you know when you need to pee.  And turn the fan off. I’m cold.” 

Amazing.  It sounded just like her.  Oops, there’s that voice again:  That’s enough.  I’m bored.  Tell these people who think you’re funny to stay well and count their blessings and get this over with.  And tell them if they want some real fun, go to youtube.com and search for carol fox limerick.  Amazing.  It sounds just like her. Now tell them who you are and go to your room.

Yes Dear                        Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com