Blog #503                                October 29, 2026

 

Beware, my friends, be careful.  It is the end of October and the time for ferocious and evil creatures to erupt from their sulfurous abodes and haunt your streets.  Horrible witches fly from their putrid dens.  Malodorous vampires stream from their caves on blackened and rotted wings.  Lupine creatures of every horrid ilk stalk from the fetid realms of Hell.  And what do they want from you?  They want you to vote for them next Tuesday.  Beware, my friends.  Be very careful. 

 

Message from Shakespeare, the three-legged cat:  Is man no more than this? Consider him well (King Lear).  I can’t vote.  I’m only a cat.  But If I could, I’d vote for my Pops.  He takes care of me and he’s smart.  He’s such a good boy.  Purr.

 

Atlanta Dream and Golden State Valkyries skip national anthem for third straight Women’s National Basketball Association Finals game.  That’s the headline, and it’s infuriating a lot of people.  Count me in.  Years ago, I sent a letter to the editor of the St. Louis Post Dispatch complaining how horrible it was for members of the Women’s National Soccer Team to kneel during the National Anthem before their games.  I am, once again, outraged.  Here’s my message to the WNBA players.  You want to complain about male basketball players earning more than you – go ahead.  You want to complain about Kaitlin Clark making more than you – have at it.  You want to voice your opinion about trans-gender athletes – fine.  But have enough grace and patriotism to stand up during the National Anthem.  You have reached the apotheosis of your sport.  Stop being selfish, self-centered egomaniacs and start respecting the country that has given you the opportunities you have.  I know you have the right to do it, but I have the right to never watch the WNBA again.

 

Apotheosis, by the way, is our Weekly Word.  It means the highest point; culmination or climax, apex.

 

Ok, that’s off my chest.  Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling well.  Here in St. Louis, our Autumn weather is fantastic, and last Saturday, Carol and I went out to do a few errands together.  We went to four separate places.  We bought bagels, groceries, clothing, a microwave, and when we got home, what did my wife say to me?  Thanks for going with me?  No, what she said was, That was good, Michael. You didn’t get lost once.  I was insulted and vowed to defend my dignity and masculinity.  So I wrote a limerick:

 

I’m good when I’m writing a poem

And I seldom will stray when I roam

But she says I get lost

Well, I’ll show her who’s boss

As soon as I find my way home.

 

Yes, she is one tough Lorna Doone!  But, she’s mine, and even if she were only a whiskey-maker’s daughter, I would love her still.

 

My oldest daughter’s first dog was Eli, a beautiful Australian Shepherd.  Eli was a girl, but that’s not the strangest naming oddity that my daughter engaged in.  She named her cat Zach.  Then she had her first child and named him Zach as well.  One day, when baby Zach was a month old or so, I called my daughter and asked how Zach was doing.  She replied, “Oh, he’s fine.  He’s on the deck lying on the barbecue pit.”  No, I said, not the cat!  So they changed the cat’s name to Zach the Cat and called him that for the rest of his long life.

 

Back to Eli.  I was in North Carolina visiting once and Jennifer asked if I would take Eli for a walk.  Of course I would.  Eli didn’t require a leash; she knew where to go and what to do.  So we took a nice walk through the woods and then headed home.  I had just passed one street and walking toward the next when I turned around.  Eli was not following me.  She was calmly sitting at the entrance to the street I had passed.  C’mon, girl, I said to her.  She just sat there and looked me in the eye as if to say, “Listen, old man, I have better eyesight than you and my sense of smell is better than yours and I’m younger, stronger and more alert than you.  Besides, I live here and know where I’m going.  And you?  You couldn’t find your way out of a McDonald’s bag if I left a trail of French fries for you.”  So I turned around and followed Eli home.

 

Many years later, Eli, nearing the end of her life, just walked away from her home.  She had been gone for a week, and Jennifer said she had gone away to die.  I wrote a heart-felt eulogy for the wonderful animal and we had a small service with lighted candles.  Very sad.  A week later, Eli walked back into the yard.  True story.

 

Speaking of dogs, there’s a store near me called Three Dog Bakery.  It sells all kinds of dog food, obviously.  I think they should sell food specialized for each breed of dog, and who better to think up cute dogfood names than Yours Truly?  Here are a few modest suggestions: Hearts of Pomeranian - Poodle Kugel - Collie Flower - Split Pekinese Soup - Chocolate Maltese - German Shepherd Pie.

 

Did you hear about the woman who brought her emotional support squirrel on a Frontier Airlines flight?  This is a true story.  She was removed, of course, though she put up a fight.  Someone suggested she was probably flying home from Washington, DC after spending a week screaming at the Senate Judiciary Committee.  She was likely mad because they wouldn’t let her squirrel into the Senate, although I don’t see why not.  They let every other kind of vermin in there.  Later, her grown daughter said she was proud of her mother for sticking up for her rights.  Her rights?  Does she have a right to bring a support yak on the plane?  A support python?  It’s bad enough they allow children.  You’re actually allowed to take a dead animal on board, but then they charge you for carrion.

 

I’ve taken enough of your time.  Have a nice week, vote if you haven’t already, stay well and count your blessings.  See you next week.

 

Michael                                    Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com