Blog #259                                         February 24, 2022

 

The day after we got home from our recent Florida trip, I was putting away the suitcases when I noticed an old, dusty box.  In it, I recognized my Great Grandmother’s recipes which my mother had written down so they wouldn’t be forgotten.  Cooking -- that sounded like a good idea for a Winter afternoon.  I pulled out the first recipe: Ukrainian Roasted Chicken.  The first line read, First, catch a chicken.  This seemed a bit gamey for me, so I pulled out the next recipe: Leek Soup.  Simple enough, so I read the beginning instruction: First, take a leek.    Never let it be said that I would let a little taste get in the way of a good joke.

 

Two days ago was Twosday.  They called it that because it was 2-22-22, and I celebrated this rare palindromic calendromic by getting out for a bunch of errands.  I needed some groceries and so did my daughter and so did Carol, so I put on my bearskin robe, grabbed my spear and headed out into the cruel, cold world to do a little hunting and gathering.  It felt good to be like one of my distant ancestors performing the ancient rituals of pre-historic man – killing the Wooly Mammoth, fighting off the Saber-Toothed Tiger and dragging my mate around by the hair.  Wait, did they actually drag women around by the hair?  I’m pretty sure if one of my ancestors had touched his wife’s hair, he wouldn’t have survived the afternoon, let alone the Stone Age.  I came home with everything on my list and a bucket of Kentucky Fried Mastodon.  Finger lickin’ good!

 

Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling well and staying safe. I heard Queen Elizabeth has a case of Covid.  Now that’s what you call a royal pain.  Not Liz, the disease!  Otherwise, it looks like the Covid pandemic is easing a bit, with hospitalizations and deaths down.  But there are still other things to worry about, like shingles.  What a ridiculous name for a disease!  It sounds like some kind of building material, as if the doctor said you had acute drywall or hardening of the concrete or a pain in the asphalt.  There actually is a medical condition very much akin to construction, and a lot of my friends have it.  It’s called having a screw loose.

 

Which got me thinking that we should write a musical about mental illness.  We’ll call it Looney Tunes.  I have a few songs in mind.  How about Home, Home on Deranged?  Or the shrink’s love song to the woman with a split personality – I’ve Grown Accustomed to Your Faces.  Hey, I’m not trying to make fun of mental illness.  I grew up with the mentally ill.  Let me put it this way: my brother and sister didn’t suffer from mental illness, they reveled in it.  The two of them made the Addams Family look like Ozzie and Harriet.

 

Message from Shakespeare:  O! Let me not be mad (King Lear).  I think Pops has a little of that family nutsiness himself.  Do you know he gave me a pair of his old slippers?  What am I supposed to do with those big slippers?  And why would he give me a pair?  I need three.  Even so, he’s such a good boy.  Purr.   

 

Did you enjoy the Winter Olympics?  I have to admit that I like the Summer events more than the Winter, but Curling is great to watch on TV, especially if you need a nap.

 

The Curling rock slowly was creeping

In front of it two girls were sweeping

Now who won the day

I just cannot say

Cause long before that I was sleeping.

 

In the Iliad, Homer said all things have surfeit – even sleep, and love, and song.  To that list, I would humbly add the Olympics.  I was ready for it to end.  Carol watched every event.  She would watch baboons play Chinese Checkers if there was an announcer.  I enjoyed the skiing/shooting event (I think they call it the Biathlon).  You cross-country ski for a while, then drop on your belly and shoot a rifle at some targets.  Wouldn’t it make more sense if you shot at the competitor who’s ahead of you?  The last surviving skier wins.  We could change the name to the Die-Athlon.  The North Koreans wanted to change the format to skiing and firing a nuclear-tipped missile, but the contestants carrying the missiles kept sinking into the snow.  I would love to be in the Olympics.  When they get around to the event called Eating Popcorn while Writing a Limerick, I might have a chance.

 

Have you noticed the explosive inflation that we are experiencing?  It’s getting out of hand.  Dollar Tree has now become Dollar and a Quarter Tree, 7-11 is becoming 9-13 and First National Bank has become Second National Bank.  You know inflation is getting out of control when Disney had to change its upcoming movie to Snow White and the Nine Dwarves.  But I’m used to inflation.  Every year, my age goes up, my blood-pressure goes up and my handicap goes up.  The only thing that goes down is my height.  Maybe they can use me as one of the Nine Dwarves.  They’ll call me Rhymey.  Happy, Sleepy, Dopey, Doc, Grumpy, Bashful, Sneezy, Rhymey and Dr. Ruth.

 

I just got a text from my 20-year-old Grandson thanking me for his Valentine care package of snacks.  He had just picked it up from the student post office at Duke.  It had been there for two weeks because I had shipped it early.  I always do things early.  My High School Yearbook quip was Punctuality is the Politeness of Kings.  Well, I’d rather be known as the Early Michael Fox than the Late Michael Fox.

 

Our Weekly Word is revel (rhymes with level), which means to enjoy oneself in a lively way with drinking and dancing.  I hope you reveled in this week’s blog and will be back next week.  I’ll leave you with a little saying from Mother Theresa: We can't do great things in this life . . We can only do small things with great love.  So stay well, count your blessings and give someone some great love today.  See you next week.

 

Rhymey                Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com