Grand Slam Communication
I read that younger siblings cause older siblings to have high blood pressure.
Seriously?
I saw it on line.
It must be true.
All right already.
Sheesh.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that you think I caused your high blood pressure.
There.
Are you happy now?
At our Toastmasters meeting this week, the theme was YouTube.
Which led to a general discussion of social media.
It brought to mind my new friend Charlotte, who has been a prominent figure in my life lately.
Charlotte has been messaging me, urging me to click her link to see pictures of her bodacious booty.
However, I am not the least bit interested in Charlotte’s bodacious booty.
In fact, I’m almost certain that Charlotte doesn’t have a bodacious booty.
I’ll bet Charlotte is a sloppy middle-aged guy in need of a shower and a toothbrush who is waiting for the perfect opportunity to drain my bank account.
No thanks, Charlotte, I’ll pass.
There were some robins in the Vitex trees outside my kitchen door.
They were brilliantly and spectacularly bright red.
I watched them, enchanted, for quite some time.
And then it hit me.
Old people watch birds.
I am watching birds.
Crap.
This is how it ends, isn’t it?
Oh my poor, dumb little dog.
We built a patio cover.
And now she can’t figure out the weather.
I was sitting on the patio, watching the rain.
She poked her nose out of the doggy door and came out to join me.
She was a little perplexed because she could see the rain and she could hear the rain, and she could smell the rain, but it wasn’t raining.
She tried to step off the patio, but it was, in fact, raining.
She quickly stepped back under the cover.
She tried another side of the patio.
Yeah, it was raining there too.
She went back to the first spot, and yes, it was still raining over there.
She gave me a perplexed look.
And didn’t seem to appreciate that I laughed at her.
She rage sighed and stalked back indoors.
Poor dumb little dog.
An English teaching account that I haven’t worked for in years has been contacting me to substitute.
“I don’t have a contract with you,” I always respond, “Please take me off your mailing list.”
They continue to send requests.
I am tempted to accept the job.
And then not show up.
What are they going to do?
Cancel my contract?
That might get me off their mailing list.
But I won’t do it.
It’s unprofessional.
The students would be the ones to suffer.
I always love the students, even if I don’t love the admin.
I have stopped responding to their requests.
I’m hoping that ignoring them will get me off their mailing list.
So far it hasn’t worked.
But I’ll keep trying.
Or not trying.
Whatever.
Our roof was destroyed in the hailstorm.
The roofers are here today.
They’ve been pounding and banging and making a racket since 7:00 am.
There’s no quiet way to get a new roof.
However, in the past hour, the workers have been making a horrible screaming noise.
I can’t tell if it’s a gruesome industrial injury or not.
The same company is doing several houses on our street.
They’re probably just calling out to each other.
If someone were hurt, they would most likely stop banging and pounding and go to the aid of their poor dismembered colleague.
I haven’t heard any sirens. Yet.
Hopefully they will finish the roof without any gruesome injuries.
It was a mystery.
At 6:00 am, there was an enormous mess of a white powdery dust all over the kitchen floor.
It started in the pantry and trailed across the kitchen.
The trash cans were covered it in.
The laundry room had also been nailed.
It’s where we keep the cleaning supplies, and the broom and dustpan were covered in it too.
My first thought was drugs.
Yeah, I like to watch crime shows.
My head said flour.
But my heart was hoping that Lennie Briscoe would come knocking on my door.
I had two suspects.
The first Grown Son is a slob and would never clean up his own mess.
Since an attempt was made to sweep, he was eliminated as a suspect.
The second Grown Son occasionally makes a slight effort to clean up.
He got the blame.
But he vehemently denied it.
The first Grown Son was confronted.
He burst out laughing and confessed that he had knocked over the flour during a midnight snack.
I informed him that flour can’t be cleaned with a broom.
It just flies around and makes an even bigger mess.
This situation calls for the shop vac.
We’ve got our own Breaking Bad crime drama right here at home.
Or maybe not.
I made some cookies with Easter M&Ms.
However, both Grown Sons are T1 diabetic.
We don’t need that much temptation.
I packed up half of the cookies into the freezer.
The Grown Sons were not amused.
They thought it was a practical joke.
It’s no joke.
I swear.
I love them more than cookies.
Which is saying a lot.
Because I really do love cookies.
It’s a sad day for the arts.
Larry McMurty has passed. He wrote Lonesome Dove. That was his most famous book, but he wrote lots and lots of other books including Horseman Pass By, Leaving Cheyanne and The Last Picture Show. Lonesome Dove was by far my favorite McMurtry Book. I just love the love/hate friendship between Woodrow and Gus. I may have to re-read that book to honor McMurtry’s passing.
Beverly Cleary has passed. She wrote an enormous collection of children’s books. Her most famous is the Ramona The Pest series which included Ramona and Beezus and Henry and Ribsy. She also wrote the Ralph Mouse series and Ellen Tebbits. I read every single book she wrote when I was a kid. She had the rare ability to capture the true spirit of a child in her stories. Beverly Cleary will be missed, but her books will live on because they are timeless.
Jessica Walter has passed. She had a prolific acting career, but I will remember her best as Lucille Bluth in Arrested Development. She was a very lovely lady, so I’m sure she had a lot of fun playing such a self-absorbed sourpuss of a character. I’m going to have to re-watch Arrested Development and pay special attention to her character because her quotes are scathing gems.
Dr. Seuss said once, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”
It’s a sad day for the arts.
But I’m smiling because it happened.
I was driving down a two-lane country road.
I kept plenty of room between me and the pick-up in front of me.
The guy behind me was annoyed.
He wanted me to speed up.
I refused.
He rage-lane-changed around me.
And then he pulled up short.
And slowed down to give the truck in front plenty of room.
Yeah, the guy in front was hauling a couple of Porta Potties.
You’d have to be in a crazy-insane kind of hurry to crowd the Porta-Potty Guy.
I’ve never been in that kind of a hurry.
I’ll never be in that kind of a hurry.
But if anyone ever wants to test it out, it would be very entertaining to watch.