Blog #275                                June 16, 2022

 

Happy Father’s Day to all you happy fathers out there.  I wonder if there’s a Sad Father’s Day.  I hope not.  I was lucky enough to have my father past his 96^th birthday.  He was a good man, a polite and chivalrous man and a proud man.  In his later years, blind and in a wheelchair, he was not able to do certain things, among them tying his shoes.  He was resigned to having his nurses do these things for him, but when I offered to tie his shoes one time, he balked.  He was too proud to admit needing help from his son.  I talked him out of that feeling by reminding him he had done the same for me.

 

Now tying your shoes is a chore

If you’re 90 or if you are four

You taught me a knot

When I was a tot

I’m glad I can even the score.

 

I am basically a mild-mannered man, calm and generally imperturbable.  I am sitting at my desk right now – FREAKED OUT!  A few seconds ago, as I was writing that limerick, I felt a little tickle on my neck.  I rubbed it away, assuming it was the label of my shirt.  But then I felt it on my arm and looked down.  It was a spider.  It was not a large spider, not a particularly ugly spider and most likely not a pernicious creature.  But it was a spider.  I am not afraid of snakes, barking dogs, Ethiopian medicine men or live tuna.  In fact, there are only two things I fear – spiders and linen.  I love all God’s creatures, except that spider, which I crushed in a paper napkin and threw in the trash.  I’m feeling better now.

 

Hi there and welcome back.  I trust you are feeling well.  I hope it’s not one of those days for you.  You know what I mean, a day when everything is wrong, hopeless or broken.  When gas prices are higher than Don King’s hair and the stock market is lower than Dr. Ruth’s navel.  It’s not fun watching your nest-egg getting poached, is it?  I’m feeling it too.  Maybe it’s just my weekly angst over finding something that will entertain you.  I mean it’s been 275 weeks and often I worry where the next thought is coming from.  Two hundred seventy-five weeks!  That’s longer than any of JLo’s husbands lasted.

 

But I decided not to worry.  Worry is like a rocking chair – it’s something to do, but it doesn’t get you anywhere.  Besides, I’ve come to feel confident that some bizarre concoction of insanity and foolishness will pop out of my strange head if I squeeze hard enough.  Let’s see what’s hiding up there.  How about assassinations?

 

Do you remember John Hinckley, Jr?  In 1981, Hinckley shot President Ronald Reagan in the chest.  Hinckley has now been unconditionally released from any confinement and will join in glorious freedom both Squeaky Fromme and Sara Jane Moore who, on different occasions, assaulted President Ford with guns.  They now compose the infamous triumvirate of the only three living persons who have attempted to assassinate a President and who are all free and could be sitting next to you in a movie theater or at Starbuck’s.  This country does not have a crime problem; it has a punishment problem.  Hinckley was never even convicted of a crime because he was deemed to be insane.  In my opinion, anyone who tries to assassinate the President or slaughter children in a school is insane, which ensures that they will never be convicted of the crime – because they’re insane!  Remember Catch 22?  Well, this must be Catch 23.  Does it make us feel better, more humane, more loving and compassionate as a society to know that three people who have fired guns at the President of the United States are roaming around free to sit in the bleachers of your grandson’s baseball game?  Or does it make us feel ridiculous and helpless?

 

How about a quiz?  That should cheer us all up.  I’ll just give you three questions today, all about addresses.

 

1.     Who lives at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave?

2.     Who lives at 124 Conch Street, Bikini Bottom?

3.     Who lives at 221 B Baker Street?

 

Answers later.  If you do well, I’ll give you more next week.

 

Message from Shakespeare:  And who lives on the porch?  I do.  Although I can go anywhere in the house, the porch has windows to look at the birds and lots of sunshine.  The other place I like is on Pops’ lap when he’s reading.  Life is good.  Purr. Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe (The Taming of the Shrew).

 

Are you staying busy?  I have been busy renewing our passports, which expire in December.  There were forms to fill out, photos to get, checks to write.  And even though we have no plans to leave the United States, I think it is wise to have a valid passport.  You never know what might happen:

 

·        I might win the Noble Prize for Limericks and be required to travel to Stockholm.

·        California might one day succeed in seceding from the United States, and I would need a passport to visit the Western Foxes.

·        My daughters might decide to take me on a year-long cruise around the world.

·        Carol might be invited to the King Arthur Exposition in London to advise them on round tables.  Every time we go out to dinner, it is a night at a round table.

·        Besides, the hairdo in her passport picture from ten years ago was out of style.

 

Ok, I think that’s enough various and sundry persiflage for one week.  What?  Persiflage.  It means light and contemptuous mockery or banter.  What a great Weekly Word.  I do have some answers for you to the addresses above:

 

1.     The President of the United States

2.     Sponge Bob Square Pants

3.     Sherlock Holmes

 

Tuesday was my lucky day.   I arrived at McDonald’s, sat down with my Diet Coke and started WORDLE.  I always begin with ATONE and, believe it or not,  that was Tuesday’s word. Amazing!  There are 12,972 five-letter words in the Wordle Dictionary, so my word should come up again in another 35½ years.  I can wait.  Can you?  While you’re waiting, count your blessings and stay well.  And think about your father.

 

Michael                                    Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com