Blog #336                                         August 17, 2023

 

I was recently asked why each blog includes a Weekly Word.  So let’s talk about my Mom.  I was my Mom’s baby.  She had two older children from a previous marriage, so technically they were my half-sister and half-brother, but my sister was 7 when I was born and my brother was 5½ and the term half-sibling was never an issue.  As I became older, they were older still and exhibiting the signs of looney-toons that characterized them all their lives.  Their father must have been crazy, which is probably why my mother kicked his can down the road and found a new husband who would become my father.  My siblings were never much company for my mother, but there I was, a cute little boy who liked to learn things.  She taught me how to play bridge, canasta, hearts, mahjong and a whole panoply of solitaire games.  She did crosswords with me and was very punctilious about grammar and vocabulary.  To the time she died, if we would differ about the use or definition of a word, my phone would ring at midnight.  It was Mom and her dictionary verifying why she was right and I was wrong.  She was usually right. 

 

Plus, my Mom grew up in Chicago, so she never said Highway Farty or my harse is in the carner, which is why I don’t have a St. Louis accent.  She died at the age of 79 from lung cancer, and I quit smoking soon after.  So if you wonder why there’s a Weekly Word – that’s my Mom.  Might as well get to it.  The Weekly Word is punctilious which means showing great attention to detail and correct behavior.  Thanks, Mom.  

 

Last week, I tried to do something helpful.  This is usually a mistake.  I noticed Carol was reading in bed with a low-wattage bulb, so I got a higher wattage bulb with the intention of brightening her life.  Have you ever heard me say, “I can’t even screw in a lightbulb”?  I screwed this one in and there was a pop and all the lights went out in the bedroom and bathroom.  I tried the circuit breaker, but that didn’t work.  The next day, I had a workman tell me I shorted out the lamp.  I unplugged it, switched on the breaker and … well, now I know how God felt on that First Day.  Except God didn’t have a wife yelling at him.  Or maybe He did.  Do you think God had a wife?  Mrs. God? 

 

What? You made Adam in your own image?  What makes you think you’re so hot looking?  Go right now and make a Woman.  Out of what?  Use Adam’s rib, Stupid.  The poor Schmuck doesn’t need half of that stuff you gave him, like an appendix or a baby toe or that ego.  And you’d better make the Woman look like me if you know what’s good for your holy self.  Maybe make the breasts a little bigger. 

 

No, don’t be nervous.  I’m the one who’s going to get hit by lightning, not you.  But just to be safe, hold your device a little farther away.

 

And tell Adam he has to honor and obey her.  No, she doesn’t have to honor and obey him.  If you made him in your image, he probably can’t even screw in a light bulb.  That “Let There Be Light” trick of yours blew out half the stars until I showed you how to do it.  And conjure up a little “Let There Be Calvin Klein” and make some clothes for that woman.  Fig leaves are so Sixth Day. 

 

Maybe you should move even farther away!  Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling well and ready for an adventure.  We had a fun adventure last week when 15 of us hopped into a mini-bus and drove to Yennimsville for some chicken.  Let me explain.  I don’t want to describe our group in any way that might insult someone, so let me just say that we all voted for Johnson for President.  Andrew!  It took us 40 minutes to hoist, climb and groan ourselves into our seats, load up enough liquor and beer for an Elks Convention, fasten our seatbelts and settle in for the drive.  We were as crowded as a Taylor Swift concert, hungry as springtime bears, and happy as a chimpanzee who just locked his keeper in the cell.  The drive took an hour or so, during which no-one drank any of the liquor or beer, but we all chatted as our hunger grew and as we drew closer to our destination, a family-style, fried chicken and mashed potatoes, apple-pie kind of place somewhere in Illinois.  It was terrific.  The service was perfect; the food was delicious and voluminous, and we all ate like mosquitos at a nudist convention.  It somehow seemed harder to load us back into the bus going home.

 

The party last night was a winner

As we drove for an hour to eat dinner

On the way back, the bus

Seemed more crowded for us

When we started, I guess, we were thinner.

 

Even before we ordered dinner, two people in our group asked me if this was going to “make the blog”.  Well, there you go – it did.  Thank you to Steve W. for planning the whole adventure and being a thorough and resourceful host and to Rick K. for being our fearless driver.  It was great fun.

 

Message from Shakespeare:  There is a world elsewhere (Coriolanus).  I’m not going on any adventures.  I have it too good here at home.  When Pops leaves the front door open, I stare out into the hall at all those doors and rugs, but I never go out.  It’s a jungle out there.  Purr.

 

When I’m at a restaurant with a hard wooden or metal chair, I usually ask for a seat cushion.   I think I should start my own brand of chair cushions.  I even have a name picked out -- Stool Softeners. Don’t you like it?  They’ll sell faster than earplugs at a Joy Behar speech. 

 

Ok, you’ve had enough of me.  You have better things to do, so go do them.  Just make sure they include counting your blessings and staying well.  But be back next week for sure. 

 

Adam                                      Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com