Tuesday, February 12, 2019

A Cure For Boredom; T-Shirt Tuesday


When growing up there was far less to do and yet never do I recall anyone saying, “I’m bored.”
A friend told me he complained to his dad that their family was boring and there was nothing to do. The dad asked the other two siblings if they felt the same way. And they replied affirmatively.
My friend told me his dad had the look on his face as a man who failed his family. He thought he did well for his children, bicycles, pool table, ping pong table, fishing pools, balls, bats, gloves, basketball hoop in the driveway, library cards, TV, etc.
The next morning before the dad went off to work he got the kids up and marched them into the backyard. He handed them shovels and told them he needed a hole ten feet square and four feet deep. All day long they speculated this was the beginning of a swimming pool.
The next morning he said to dig another exact size hole and take the dirt and toss it into the first hole.
It didn’t take long before the children figured out the lesson dad was teaching them. Finally, the youngest told dad, “we’re through being bored.”
When all was said and done there were three patches of 10 by 10 loose soil in the back yard. Dad bought seed and they planted a garden. “Every time your bored go weed the garden,” he said.

The lesson; refrain from saying you are bored or better yet, my motto is, never become bored enough to do anything about it.  

Monday, February 11, 2019

The Monday After 2/11/19

Virginia Is For Lovers?

It is so hard to keep up with who will be the next Virginia governor. Between guys disguising in blackface and sexually assaulting women, there seems to be no one who qualifies.
It’s become so embarrassing West Virginia is going to change its name to Eastern Kentucky. Kentucky is a state where blackening your teeth is an effort to fit in and sexual assault is limited to only those not cousins.

Embryonic or Moronic Law Suit?

A man from India has been drinking too much Starbucks’ and reading too many Harvard Law Reviews. He wants to sue his parents for not obtaining his permission for being born.
It used to be said only in American can you sue for absolutely anything. Perhaps if Hindu, he’s suing as the plaintiff in a previous life. “I didn’t want to be reincarnated. I was happy as a house fly.”

Best State For Seniors

Somebody, somewhere, somehow, for some reason came up with a list of the most senior-friendly states in the US.
The criteria for selecting is fuzzy. Taxes, health care, available senior programs, etc seem to be the categories considered for a good ranking or not.
I live in Idaho and it’s pretty friendly. At least, I think so. Nobody has tried to run me over with their car or called me an old fart when I pull out in front of them.
A part of the headline to this article read, “Hint—it’s not Florida” and it turned out to be Florida. Here’s the list:
1. Florida
2. New York
3. Alabama
4. Kentucky
5. Georgia
6. Ohio
7. New Hampshire
8. Louisiana
9. South Carolina
10. New Jersey

Anyway, the only reason New Jersey made the top 10 is that you age five years for just passing through.

Saturday, February 9, 2019

To The Ends Of The Earth; He Said, She Said

Would you go to the store and get some milk?” She said.
I’d go to the ends of the earth,” he said.
Just for a carton of milk, how sweet,” she said.
I didn’t say anything about milk, I’d just go to ends of the earth,” he said.

Friday, February 8, 2019

I Just Want My Stinkin’ Coffee! Waz Up Coffee Cup




Some say we are living in a time and state of individualism. Some say that’s good but I say it’s a gimmick only. Tailor-made, custom made, made-to-order, custom built, custom fit, customized, individually designed, individually wrapped, handcrafted,  personalized, and just-for-you. It’s all drivel, bunk, baloney, bull, bilge, balderdash, hooey, hogwash, mumbo jumbo, rubbish, malarky, and poppycock. A scam!
You go into a car lot and you ask for a yellow car with a 'special' option package and the salesman has one pulled from the yellow car grab bag. The only thing really custom about it is your seat and steering wheel adjustment.
Have you ever mistaken another car for your own? You get in it and say immediately, “who moved the seat?” You know right away this is not your car. Also missing is the smell of the dead corpse from the trunk.
Coffee shops are really different. Especially when it comes to customers who are overbearingly “special.” They order Honduran coffee, the Opaica region, grown in the shade, from the Gomez farm, picked by Jose Gardoza or his middle son, smuggled by Carmelita Valencia, medium well roast, fine grind, and brewed through a dirty sock. And a dash of Ukrainian albino goat cream, swirl, don’t stir.
Yeah, we know the type; the type that thinks they’re so special. I bet they drive a '78 blue Volvo with an Al Gore for President sticker. I would like to pour scalding coffee down their pants.
Anyway when I walk into ‘one of those places’ I ask for coffee—just plain coffee. I stand back and be entertained. The looks and confusion are priceless. 
What plane? Ethiopian, Chilean, Argentine?” the barista says.
P-l-a-i-n, plain,” I say.
Let me see my manager,” the barista says and returns five minutes later. “Sure, we can do that.”
And no dirty sock,” I say.
The barista smiles and says, “I’m glad you mentioned that.”

Well, there are still a few of us ‘real’ individuals out there and for us, here is a coffee cup, “I just want my stinkin’ coffee!

Wednesday, February 6, 2019

Don’t Fix Me


Hank met Gregg for coffee at a quiet shop not far from Gregg’s work. They ordered the usual. They sat near the window to stare at the falling snow.
I like the snow,” Hank said. “It reminds me of my childhood.”
It reminds me of shoveling our driveway all day long,” Gregg said. “Hard work, that’s what it reminds me of.”
Hank sipped his coffee and thought for a moment.
But there was always a pleasure in accomplishing it,” Gregg said. “One must take pleasure in his accomplishment, don’t you agree?”
Certainly,” Hank said. “Otherwise everything is drudgery. The coffee is really good this morning.”
Gregg pulled the cup from his lips. “That’s why we go here. The coffee is always good.”
Hank smiled. “The baristas take pride in what they do.”
I read your blog this morning,” Gregg said. “It seemed depressing to me.”
Yes,” Hank said. “I wrote it last night. I wasn’t feeling all that well.”
You should have given me a call,” Gregg said. “My wife and I would have delighted to have you over for company.”
That’s kind of you to say that,” Hank said. “But I would have been best by myself.”
You seem to put a lot of time into your blog,” Gregg said. “Who reads it?”
Well for one,” Hank said, “you do. But I think it’s more important that it is written rather than read.”
Blogging seems so impersonal,” Greg said. “You sometimes spill your emotions to those who don’t care.”
Like I said,” Hank said. “It’s good just to say things without bothering those who you know. You don’t always want or need help. Sometimes friends want to jump in and fix something and they end up breaking something. So I just write.”
Don’t you want to be fixed if you're broken,” Gregg said.

All of my friends and most importantly me loves the broken me,” Hank said. “Who knows what the fixed me would be like. I may not like snow or coffee.”