Blog #476                                April 23, 2026

 

Sorry, but I have to mess up my schedule again.  Next week’s blog will arrive on Wednesday, not Thursday.  Just a minor blip that I’ll explain later, so heads up!  It will arrive next Wednesday.  Now, on to the weather.

 

It’s the rainy season here in St. Louis.  Carol hates rain.  Rain is anathema.  I’m not sure whether it’s a hair thing or she’s related to the Wicked Witch of the West.  Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.  She is constantly tuned to a weather app so she can plan when to leave the house.  My oldest daughter is like that too.  We were on a vacation in North Carolina with Jennifer and her family and had stayed inside the whole night because Carol and Jennifer had determined that the forecasts were ominous.  It did not rain a drop.  Then the next morning, right after breakfast, the two of them, whom I had begun to refer to as Cloudy and Cher, were watching their electronic devices again.  “I think today is the day we should stay in the house; the forecast is 60% storms.”  While the Storm Sisters were thus preparing to ruin my day, I was on the porch where I could see a beautiful sunny sky with not a cloud in sight.

 

The women just sit and complain

“The forecast is calling for rain!”

If Columbus’ crew

Had included those two

We’d all still be living in Spain.

 

Andre Gide said one doesn't discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.  That probably includes getting wet as well.  Did you know there was a mutiny on Columbus’ first voyage?  The crew said they were going home.  “Not all of you are going home”, said Columbus.  “The ones that I kill are staying here.”  I must confess that story is apocryphal and does not occur in official histories, but I like it.  And yes, I do my research to validate all the things I tell you.

 

Message from Shakespeare, the three-legged cat:  The rain, it raineth every day (King Lear).  I never get to go outside, but I like to sit by the window and bathe in the sunshine.  I don’t mind the rain, if it keeps Pops and Carol from going out.  I don’t like being alone.  That’s why I write to you every week.  Oh, today I am seven years old.  Wish me a Happy Purr-thday.

 

Hi there and welcome back.  And Happy 7^th Birthday to Shakespeare.  I love him so much.  I hope you’re feeling well and staying out of the rain.  You can stay dry by shopping at Whole Foods.  Going to Whole Foods with Carol is always interesting.  She shops while I maneuver the cart in the constricted aisles clogged with hungry, health-conscious do-gooders clad in jogging gear and clutching reusable sacks.  As we passed the egg department, I noticed a sign assuring us that these eggs had been harvested from cage-less chickens.  I read on and learned that the chickens responsible for these pearly ovoid beauties are not kept in individual cages but are allowed to roam around the barn where water and food are available at various stations.  This was beginning to sound appealing.  Free food and drink, lots of exercise, no work, no tax returns, no Joy Behar and all you have to do is lay eggs.  Maybe I should learn how to do that.

 

When I got home, I flew to the Internet looking for egg-laying lessons and found a bunch of bitchy Vegans complaining that cage-less chickens were still overcrowded and never let out of the barn.  What do they want the farmer to do, take these birds to a Broadway show?  You knew a list was coming, didn’t you?  Here it is, Broadway shows for chickens:

 

The Best Little Henhouse in Texas

Bantam of the Opera

Guys and Fowls

The Gizzard of Oz

 

Let’s see, here’s something else I can bloviate about.  I just got a new medication prescribed.   It’s some nerve something and I looked it up online to check out the side effects.  See, there’s that dogged research again.  Here’s what I found – dizziness, drowsiness, weakness, tired feeling, blurred vision, headache, strong cravings for McDonald’s in the morning and a strange compulsion to read Moby Dick.  I’m pretty sure I can handle it.

 

I will add the new pill to my already impressive menu of pills, capsules, ointments, salves, nose sprays, lotions, potions and soft gels.  I have carefully categorized pill-takers into four groups.  I have so much free time!  The groups are Free Lance, Organized, Anal and Screwball.   Free Lance includes those of you who simply know what pills to take and when to take them.  Organized pill-takers need some additional help and use a pill box with seven compartments marked with each day of the week.  Anal pill-takers – you know, maybe that’s a poor choice.   By anal, I don’t mean suppositories; I mean someone who makes sure the oven is off before leaving the house – five times.  Or someone who goes to McDonald’s every single morning.   Anal pill-takers have a pill box with fourteen compartments so the medicines can be split between a.m. and p.m.

 

And then there is the Screwball category which includes me.  I just fill each compartment with one kind of pill.  When it’s time to take pills, I open them all.  I still think a great parlor game would be for each person to write down all their pills on a piece of paper and throw it into a pile.  One list would be chosen at random and everybody would guess who it belongs to.  We’d call it Who Wants to Be a Pillionaire?  Kind of like Colonel Mustard in the Kitchen with the Stool Softener.   I confess I’ve used that line before, but with your memory? -- I’m pretty sure you’ve forgotten.  That’s because you take too many pills.

 

And I guess you want to know what bloviate means.  It is our Weekly Word and means to talk at length, especially with arrogance.  I guess that describes my blog pretty much every week.  But you’ll be back, won’t you?  What would I do without you – lay eggs?  Please stay well and count your blessings.  And remember, the blog will be on Wednesday next week.

 

Michael                                    Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com