Blog #309                                         February 9, 2023

 

As I was working in my study this morning, Shakespeare jumped on my desk and began staring at the computer screen.  He sat there unmoving for 15 minutes.  I knew what he wanted – a bird video.  Ok, I’m a pushover.  I put on the bird video he likes -- squirrels and little birds eating from a display of nuts and seeds.  He turned and stared at me.  I knew what that look meant too – get off your chair and let me sit there, and adjust the pillow so I can see the birds better.  I did that too, and he immediately curled up on the chair pillow and settled in for the bird show.  I’m surprised he didn’t ask for popcorn.

 

Message from Shakespeare:  The cuckoo then, on every tree, mocks married men (Love’s Labours Lost).  No, Pops, I don’t need popcorn.  I’ll just eat the keys off your computer when you’re not looking.  Purr.

 

I went to the couch and read, not willing to leave him alone with my computer.  He was happy, until, that is, he heard Carol take the sheets out of the dryer.  He leapt down and raced into the bedroom so he could roll in and out among the sheets and blankets as we tried to put them back on the bed.  It’s his favorite thing.  What a life.

 

We all know that our vision is measured as 20-20 or 20-40 and so on.  The higher the second number, the worse your vision until it gets up to 20-500 where your vision is so bad, you can’t even see Al Sharpton’s hair.  After 20-500, and this is true, the vision categories become:

·        How many fingers?

·        Can you see the waving hands?

·        Can you see the moving light?

·        Blind!

 

My right eye was in the waving hands category for two months.

                                     

Hi there and welcome back.  A week ago was Groundhog Day.  I hope you saw your shadow because, if you saw your shadow, you were someplace sunny.  How nice.  And I hope you’re feeling well today.  Did that big, bodacious Chinese Spy Balloon frighten you?  It apparently didn’t frighten President Biden, because he chose not to shoot it down right away.  I guarantee you he would have shot it down if it had been wearing a MAGA hat.  The Pentagon would not tell us exactly where it was, even though every news channel had a chart of its movements like it was Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.  I suppose the Pentagon thought the balloon’s location was classified material.  Well, no matter, you can always find a copy in the trunk of Joe Biden’s Corvette.  They wouldn’t tell us what was inside the balloon either, but I know.

 

That big thing that looks like the Moon

Is just a Chinese Spy Balloon

It can see, it can hear

Cause it’s loaded with gear

And a million and two crab Rangoon.

 

Now that’s what I call a delivery.  Probably for a Super Bowl party at Mar-a-Lago.  Our Weekly Word is bodacious which means remarkable or noteworthy.

 

Are you ready for Super Bowl LVII?  That’s 57 for those of you who don’t speak Roman.  And how long are we going to keep counting things in Roman Numerals?  The Roman Empire has been dead for 1547 years.  Excuse me, MDXLVII years.  Ridiculous!

 

On Sunday, 70,000 people will gather like flies on a dead horse to watch the game.  They will see very little of it, hear none of it, have beer spilled on them and have a wonderful time.  And that’s just the party I’m going to.  I like people; I like my friends.  What I don’t like is listening to a bunch of women all talking loudly during the game about what’s really important: whether that guy in South Carolina actually killed his wife and son or why they haven’t tried the Idaho killer yet.  These lovely, kind, gentle women love to talk about violent and bloody crime.

 

I’m a little confused about the actual football game.  My high-school teams were the Indians when I was there.  Of course, when I was there, there were still Indians.    That name has been changed to the Lions.  The Washington Redskins are now the Commanders.  Ok, I get it.  But the Kansas City Chiefs are still the Chiefs and play in Arrowhead Stadium.  Where are the picketing mobs of politically correct protestors?  Where are Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton, Tonto?  How can they get away with using that name?  I have the perfect politically correct name if they ever put an NFL team in Alabama – the Mobile Warming.

 

Some time ago, a year or more, I was at a funeral.  I don’t even remember whose funeral it was because I was so distracted by the rabbi who was wearing a cowboy hat throughout the service.  Now, whereas this accessory covers the head as required, it was a little strange to watch Rabbi Tex doing the 23^rd Psalm.  My Stetson runneth over.  Surely Lone Ranger and Tonto shall follow me all the days of my life.  There must have been some Jewish cowboys in the Wild West, don’t you think?  How about Kvetch Cassidy and the Sundance Yid or Doc High Holiday or Schlepalong Cassidy?  

 

I’m still not driving yet after my eye surgery, so my wife took me to Kohl’s.  I cannot shop by myself.  Let me rephrase that – I am not allowed to shop by myself.  That’s fine, I need help.  I must have tried on 40 articles of clothing, but, as Carol likes to say, “You’ve got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a Prince.”   I wonder how many frogs she kissed before she found me.  Or maybe I was just the last frog.  I love shopping at Kohl’s!  Everything was on sale plus we had a 30% off coupon.  I bought three pairs of shoes, 16 pairs of pants, 42 shirts and a Godiva chocolate bar for a total of $4.98.  It’s a miracle.

 

And it’s also a miracle that I made it through another bodacious blog.  I hope you liked it, but it’s time to go.  I have to go kiss a few frogs.  Try Limerick Oyster again next week.  It’s good for your health.  Warning – side effects may include laughter.  Stay well, keep smiling and count your blessings.

 

Schlepalong                                       Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com