Blog #154

Carol and I went to a party recently and had a grand old time.  The food was great; many of our friends were there; and the music was Rock ‘n Roll!  We sang along for hours.  It is remarkable how I can faithfully sing all the lyrics to a song I haven’t heard in sixty years but can’t remember where I parked my car twenty minutes ago.  Sometimes, I believe my memory is so bad I could plan my own surprise party.

Not only did we sing at the party, we danced the jitterbug like teenagers.  I like dancing with my wife because I get to lead.  It’s the only time she lets me get my way.  A Japanese proverb says, “We’re fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance.”  This was the first strenuous test of my new hip, and it didn’t hurt me a bit.  I was thrilled.  I was as excited as a Vietnamese chef at a dog park.  What a great party!

The party and food were first rate,

The Rock ‘n Roll music was great,

And that new hip of mine

Felt perfectly fine

But the best thing of all was my date.

She was cute and fun and a great dancer.  That is now two weeks in a row I have said nice things about my wife.  And it isn’t even her birthday.

Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you are feeling well.  Did you have a loving and candy-filled Valentine’s Day?  This is our third Valentine’s Day together, you and I, so you’ve heard all my Valentine stories already.  There was the story about the day I was bitten in the behind by a friend’s dog.  The friend begged me to pull off my pants so he could see whether the bite broke my skin, but I refused because I was wearing my wife’s Valentine present, a pair of pink boxer shorts with red hearts, and I was too embarrassed to reveal them.  I was too em-bare-assed to become bare-assed.  That’s probably where the word came from.

Then there’s the story of how a Valentine miscue led to the start of my writing letters to my daughters, which led to these blogs.  And the story of the Valentine’s Day when I was sixteen that I spent with my libertine* English teacher and her very naughty python.  But you’ve heard all of those already.  Oh?  You missed the python story?  Too bad.  You know, you can always go on the website (limerickoyster.blogspot.com) and read all my past issues.  By now that would be about the size of a 450-page book – with lots of laughs.

Did you also have a nice President’s Day?  Did you even know it was President’s Day?  Yes, it was last Monday when the nation paused in its investigations, impeachments and constant ridicule of our President to actually honor the Office of the Presidency and the 45 men who have held the post.  Actually, there were only 44 because Grover Cleveland was both the 22^nd and the 24^th President.  Yes, the nation paused to pay honor to our Presidents by doing what it always does – having a furniture sale.  All Federal employees had the day off so they could buy a sectional at 80% off, no money down, no payment until Trump leaves office.

What else shall we talk about?  Did it ever occur to you that one day I might run out of things to say?  Me neither.  Let’s talk about what you’re going to be buried with.  When I was in Florida, I played golf one time, and I borrowed the clubs of my friend who had passed away last summer.   I didn’t feel at all sacrilegious or inappropriate in doing that. Was I wrong?  When I hit a ball into a lake, I reached into his golf bag for the retriever.  What, no retriever?  That was his favorite club!  Later, I asked his wife what happened to it.  She buried him with it.

That evening, I relayed the story and asked Carol what she wants buried with her. You know, Egyptian Pharaohs, as well as other wealthy Egyptians, were buried with all sorts of items which would be useful or decorative or valuable in the after-life.  My wife instantly told me she wanted to be buried with a hair-straightener.  Well, you don’t want to frizz up in Heaven, do you?  Although, if it’s really Heaven, there should be no humidity, but what do I know?  I’m never getting there.  Carol, however, was taking no chances that some Heavenly Angel would see her hair curled up and send her straight to Hell, a place with no mirrors and only square tables.  I told her it wouldn’t be so bad for her in Hell.  It’ll be warm and all the people from The View will be there.

Me?  You can just bury me with a copy of Moby Dick and a pair of reading glasses.  And some marshmallows.

ROTTEN OYSTERS:  Parasite won the Oscar for Best Picture.  It wasn’t.  It had an interesting premise and had my attention for the first half.  In the second half, however, the writer lost interest in pursuing a tantalizing psychological drama, and the movie collapsed into a Quentin Tarantino blood-bath.  Very disappointing.

WEEKLY WORD:  Libertine:  characterized by a disregard of morality, especially in sexual matters.  I never claimed that this was a “family” blog.

We’re home now from our 15-day Southern Tour.  Once again, I want to thank all our delightful hosts:  Frank & Suzy, Bruce & Laurie, Larry & Linda and my precious daughter Jennifer and her wonderful husband David.  The week before we arrived in NC, David was hit by a car while riding his bike.  He suffered several broken bones and shoulder injuries and is being a real trooper in his recovery.  When we arrived, I asked him how he felt.  He replied, “I feel like I’ve been hit by a car.”

Also, a special thanks to all of you serial readers who keep showing up each week for this kind of punishment.  Stay loyal, stay well, count your blessings . . . yada, yada.  See you next week.

Michael                                             Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com