LIMERICK    OYSTER

Blog #262                                March 17, 2022

 

The Ukrainians want airplanes to fight the Russians, but we’re not sending them airplanes, are we?  Poland has a few old MIGs and would gladly get rid of them, but the Poles are reluctant about aggravating the Russians because the Russians have invaded and occupied Poland so many times in the past 500 years.  The Poles want the Americans to take the planes and give them to the Ukrainians, but we’re also afraid of aggravating Russia, so instead of giving Ukraine the weapons they need to defend themselves against slaughter and annihilation, we’ve decided to stop buying Russian products.  Now, each night, as we watch the evening broadcast of live Ukrainians becoming dead Ukrainians, we’ll have to serve beer and popcorn instead of caviar and vodka.  What a sacrifice.  It’s kind of like watching one of your friends getting beaten up by a bully in the school parking lot and telling the bully that if he doesn’t stop you won’t invite him to your birthday party.  Truman Capote said, “The wicked are safe among the blind.”  Are we being blind here?  Give them the friggin’ airplanes so that they can defend themselves.  

 

Another way we’re helping the Ukrainians is by seizing those gargantuan yachts owned by Russian oligarchs.  An oligarch, our Weekly Word is a very rich Russian with a lot of political influence.  Kind of like Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos with fur hats.  President Biden has sent them a warning:  

 

We’re going to go on a mission

To make sure you cannot go fishin’

We’re taking your boats

And whatever else floats

So you won’t have a yacht you can pish in.

 

And we’re justifying the seizure of these huge fishing boats because they are Weapons of Bass Destruction.

 

We barely have time to worry about the Ukrainians because we have to worry about baseball.  Aren’t we all excited that the baseball lockout is over so that all those millionaire players and billionaire owners can raise the ticket prices and the beer prices and the parking and the popcorn and make going to a baseball game for a family of four as expensive as a Stinger missile?

 

I like soccer and am looking forward to the new Major League Soccer team coming to St. Louis in 2023.  The reason that soccer isn’t more popular here is that it is so hard to bet on.  In half of the games, nobody wins, and the over-under is always 1.

 

Hi there and welcome back.  Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all my Limerick Leprechauns out there.  Did you remember to change your clocks?  I admit I forgot.  At my age, I’m much better at falling back than springing forward.  This week marks five years since the first Limerick Oyster was published on March 16, 2017.  Happy Anniversary to me and to those of you who have put up with me for five years.  Thank you.  I hope you are feeling well today.

 

You may have put up with me for five years, but Carol and I have been together for almost 55 years.  Fredrik Backman said, “It’s hard enough for two people to agree what TV program to watch, let alone fashion an entire life together.”  It is a measure of a long and happy marriage that my wife can communicate with me in so many different ways.  A look, a smile, private and intimate messages.  Like leaving an empty toilet-paper roller on the sink to tell me I should put more rolls in the cabinet.  Or telling me when I leave that if I walk out of the house wearing that shirt, I should not consider coming back.  She’s so subtle.

 

I dutifully changed my shirt and we went out for dinner with friends.  The other gentleman at the table looked at my shirt and said he thought he had the same shirt.  Was it a Tom Ford?  No, I said.  A Ralph Lauren?  No.  Luigi Borrelli?  No, I said, my shirts don’t have two names.  Only one name – Chaps.  I’ve told you before that I can predict what people will say when they look at old pictures of themselves.  The women always say, “Oh my God, look at my hair!”  And the men say, “I still have that shirt.”   And that’s all I have to say about shirts.

 

Yearly physical exam today.  Eyes look good.  Heart is fine.  Joints working.  Everything else is normal.  Got a rabies shot.  Oh, I guess I didn’t mention it was Shakespeare’s check-up.  Yesterday was his 2^nd anniversary at our house.  Such a good boy! 

 

Message from Shakespeare:   O my gentle master! O my sweet master! (As You Like It).  I call him my Master just to make him think he’s the boss.  I learned that from Carol.  In truth, the only thing he’s master of is scooping my litter.  But he did take me in two years ago and give me a wonderful home.  I guess he deserves a thank-you.  I’ll think about it.  Purr.

 

We are currently in the period of Lent, which began on Ash Wednesday and ends on Easter.  Last week, I saw a sign on a Catholic Church offering drive-up services for people who were in a hurry or trying to avoid personal contact.  Absolutely true!  That’s right, you could drive up to a priest in the parking lot, roll down your window and get ashes on your forehead and a blessing. What a clever idea: Drive through services! 

 

Get your divinity in your Infinity.

We’ll get you to heaven in your Porsche 9-11.

Bring in your Hyundai on next Easter Sunday.

Did you steal that car? Yes? Drive up and confess!

 

Now that’s what I call a Service station.  I forget the name of the church.  I think it was Our Lady of the Catalytic Converter.  The Catholic Church definitely needs my services (pun intended) to help with their messaging.  Today I passed a cemetery with a sign in front that read: St John’s Cemetery – Non- Sectarian.  Non-sectarian?  St. Johns?  Why don’t they just name it St. Johns Holy Catholic and Papal Cemetery of Jesus Christ, Our Lord – Non-Sectarian? 

 

I suppose I have to stop now.  I wouldn’t want you to laugh too much or cry too hard.  I’ll have more next week.  Be there!  Stay well, count your blessings and pray for Ukraine.

 

Michael                          Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com