Wednesday, November 13, 2019


Blog #140

It’s time to stop all this political folderol.  We all know who we want for President.  It’s not Trump or Warren or Uncle Joe.  We all know the candidate that would get 90% of the vote from both Republicans and Democrats.  So why waste our time and energy on this craziness?  Let’s just do it!  Prince Harry for President.  We love the British Royals.  We fawn and gush over every royal wedding and royal baby, and every time we check out at the grocery, we pick up the magazines with Meghan’s picture on the cover.  Wouldn’t we just plotz over Meghan as First Lady?  Or would that be First Duchess?  Besides, Harry’s never going to be King, so he’s available.

And speaking of checking out at the grocery store, we were doing that -- well, I was doing that while Carol was reading the magazines with Meghan's picture on the cover -- when she told me we could get our groceries delivered.  Why would I have my groceries delivered?  Have I lost my ability to drive?  Have I turned blind?  “Well,” she said, “it could be raining.”  My little princess does not do rain.  Now Meghan, besides being our next First Lady, is a Princess, a Royal Highness, a Duchess and a Baroness.  But that doesn’t mean she outranks my Princess.  Are you reading this, Honey?  Phew!  Anyway, I responded that there is no weather event that could keep me from going to the grocery store, and that if I ever get my groceries delivered, make sure they include a bottle of arsenic.

I’m looking for a better deal on my cable and internet provider.  Aren’t we all?  Cable companies are the snake-oil salesmen of the present.  They lie to you about the cost, the service, the terms.  They raise your price every chance they get and give better prices to new customers than to loyal and steady customers.  I know you recognize your cable company in there somewhere.  So I just got a quote from AT&T to compare with my current bill from Spectrum.  I would try Sprint, but a few years ago, Sprint actually began dropping customers who called customer service too frequently.  I do not lie.  They sent letters to those pesky pains in the tush, informing them they were no longer welcome at Sprint.  Here’s what those letters looked like:

About your renewal?  We pass.
We have to release you, alas
So please let us be
Call AT&T
Because you’re a pain in the ass.
  
Granddaughter Zoey (16) got me to download Spotify so I could listen to a podcast she liked.  Then I realized it was for music too.  I am so clueless about these things.  I know as much about the iPhone as Stevie Wonder knows about Air-Traffic Control.  I probably know how to do less than 2% of what a smartphone can do.  But could I live without my phone?  No!  How else would I be able to bore my friends with pictures of my grandchildren?  Anyway, I got Granddaughter Charley (11) to teach me how to get songs and make a playlist.  I’m in Heaven!  Rock ‘n Roll! 

One of the first songs I added was Alice’s Restaurant, a 22½ minute rambling story by Arlo Guthrie accompanied by his guitar.  In 2007, I was visiting a shrink twice a week for depression.  I was also listening to Alice’s Restaurant, all 22½ minutes of it, every night.  Every single night for an entire year.  Of course, over the weeks, the shrink learned everything there was to know about me.  We talked about depression and we talked about my drinking.  He’s the one who stopped me from drinking by telling me if I didn’t stop, I would lose my wife.  I never had a drop after that.  Not one.  One time he said I was obsessive-compulsive.  I told him I didn’t think I was.  He replied, “Are you kidding?  You listen to Alice’s Restaurant every single night!”.  I guess he was right. 

Anyway, I don’t drink any more and I don’t listen to Alice’s Restaurant any more, but when I listened to it on Spotify just now, I got a big smile.  Plus, I picked up some new songs from some of the really old artists.  Paul McCartney recorded a song after his doctor measured his height and told him he had shrunk another inch:

          Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m two-foot-four?

Here are some more Newies by the Oldies:

·        The Stones – Goodbye Senior Tuesday
·        Elton John – Bennie and the Stents
·        Paul Simon – 50 Ways to Lose Your Liver

If you’re not the lead dog, the view never changes.  That’s a phrase which, in its various forms, means the leader has a clear view and the followers can’t see anything except some other dog’s butt.  Being a follower sucks.  Actually, I don’t think the lead dog is so terrific.  It’s the lead dog’s wife that runs the show: 

Listen, Nanook, you’re going the wrong way.  You couldn’t find your way out of a McDonald’s bag if they left you a trail of French fries.  If they dropped you in the middle of Seattle, you couldn’t find a Starbucks.  So forget this call of the wild crap; you’re going where I tell you.  And when we get there, don’t forget I’m not eating that dried caribou slop you and your pack of losers eat.  Get me a Caesar salad with the dressing on the side.  And pine nuts.  Speed up, and stay clear of those clouds over there.  I do not do rain.

Speaking of dogsleds and bad weather, it’s cold out there.  It’s colder than a stethoscope!  It’s so cold I saw Lindsey Graham and Nancy Pelosi hugging!  It’s so cold I saw Elizabeth Warren go inside a tent to keep her Wig-Wam!  It’s so cold I saw Joy Behar snuggling up to Donald Trump because he’s so full of hot air!  Ok, that’s enough.  You can go now.  But be back next week.  I might even say something funny for a change and you wouldn’t want to miss it.  Stay warm, stay well and count your blessings.

Michael                                    Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com




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