Blog #407                                December 26, 2024

 

The Penguin Classics edition of The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas is 1,276 pages long.  As you may remember, I am reading it as a side book, four pages a day.  On page 454 is the following: ‘Punctuality”, said Monte Cristo, ‘is the politeness of kings.’  I have not seen that quote since my high-school yearbook.  It was the quip that the editors placed under my yearbook photo.  Apparently, they couldn’t think of anything nice to say about me except that I was on time.

 

And some of them still don’t have much nice to say about me.  At my 25^th reunion, a girl came up to me and said, “I remember you.”  At my 40^th, the same girl said, “I think I remember you.  You were taller.”  At my 50^th, that very same girl said, “I thought you were dead.” 

 

I had a business partner who was always late – always.  If we had a 2:00 meeting, he would show up at 2:30.  Of course, it aggravated me for years until I decided to use that information to my benefit.  I began to calculate how late he would be for a meeting and I would arrive at the calculated time.  That worked and resulted in my being right on time for the meeting.  And now it’s Thursday morning, and here I am.  And there you are, right on time.  Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you are well.  Yesterday was Christmas Day as well as the beginning of Hanukkah.  Happy Holidays!  May your Christmas star or your Hanukkah candles twinkle with good health and good cheer.

 

I gave Shakespeare a holiday present.  It’s just the cap from a bottle of pills, but it rolls on the floor and he chases it.  He thinks it’s a mouse.  He’s a good boy.

 

Message from Shakespeare:  Bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible (Julius Caesar).  Pops got me a great Hanu-cat present.  It’s white and it’s round and I chase it around the floor, pretending it’s a mouse.  It makes Pops happy to think I’m that stupid.  He’s a good boy.  Purr.

 

What should we talk about?  How about trash.  Each day I take the small amount of trash generated by two old folks and a cat, bag it up and throw it down the trash chute, where it descends to the nether reaches of Hell or the local landfill – I’m not sure which.  I recycle paper (mostly junk mail) and cardboard (mostly Amazon boxes) by throwing them in a separate container.  Pretty simple, actually.  Not in California!  Steph, my California daughter, has seven containers – paper, plastic, glass, metal, organic, batteries and mixed.  The last time we visited, Carol was so afraid of putting something in the wrong container that she packed up her trash and brought it home in our suitcase.  Totally true.

 

Jennifer, my North Carolina daughter, has an even more complicated system.  She has chickens, so you have to decide between compost, trash, recycle and chickens.  One afternoon she decided to give last night’s leftover eggplant parmesan to her birds.  Who feeds their chickens eggplant parmesan?  But before she carried it out to the coop, she saw me and asked if I wanted some.  I don’t eat eggplant when it’s the main course, let alone the garbage, but I told her I was grateful that I was mentioned in the same category as the poultry.  I guess that puts me just above compost.  Hey, as long as I know my place.  They also serve who only stand and cluck.  And yes, the chickens will eat leftover chicken.  I think there’s some biblical injunction against that (“You shall not seethe a kid in his mother’s milk” Exodus 23:19), but the last time we showed a Bible to the chickens, they ate it.

 

Hey, where else can you can get Milton quotes and Bible quotes while talking about chicken food?   

 

Last Saturday was December 21^st, the shortest day of the year.  I woke up and tried to write you a limerick:

 

I’m writing a limerick here

But I might not get finished, I fear

I’d best start a rhyme

Lest I run out of time

‘Cause today:  Shortest Day of the . .

 

See, I told you.  I didn’t even have time to finish the limerick.

 

Next Tuesday is New Year’s Eve.  In previous years, when we were younger and richer, we would don our tuxes and our jewels and go out to hobnob with our friends.  Lots of wine, expensive food and dancing.  I would hug the men and buss the women and give my wife a big, well-deserved kiss.  But that was then.  We no longer lead the lifestyle of the rich and famous.  More like the modest and quiet. 

 

There will be no wine for me, certainly no jewels.  We might not even stay up till midnight.  But one thing I won’t give up – an Auld Lang Syne dance and a kiss for my beautiful wife.  She’s the best!

 

Much of 2024 was about as pleasant as a toothache, but the Fox Clan made it through without too much kvetching and whining.  And I only got one year older even though it feels like eight.  And The View has not been expanded to two hours.  Oh, tidings of Whoopi and Joy, Whoopi and Joy.  I’m rambling here, but just let me go on; it usually works out well.  I know you think there is method to my madness, but, mostly, there is just madness.  Let’s see where this takes us

 

Here’s a little lexical curiosity for you.  You know the Three Rs of our elementary education (Reading, Writing, Rithmetic).  Isn’t it interesting that the Three R’s stand for three words, only one of which starts with R?  No wonder there is so much illiteracy.

 

Our Weekly Word is lexical, which means pertaining to words or vocabulary.  And, of course, I like learning new words every week and sharing them with you.

“It is always in season for old men to learn,” said Aeschylus, an ancient Greek playwright.  Which begs the question: why should someone who WRITES a play be called a playWRIGHT? 

 

Time to go, and I’m always on time.  Stay well, count your blessings and have a Happy New Year.  See you next year.  Be punctual.

 

Michael                                             Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com