Tag: humor

Reparations

A friend in Illinois shared on Facebook this week that her young son’s bicycle had been stolen from their front yard. Somehow in their busy day they’d neglected to bring the bike into the garage, and her son’s pride and joy disappeared, most likely forever. I felt her pain.

Many years ago our son’s bike was stolen in much the same way. It was a beautiful blue Diamondback that we’d scrimped and saved for in order to give him exactly what he’d asked for that Christmas. And that kid took great care of his bike. Until one afternoon when he didn’t.

I still remember the anger I felt knowing that someone had come into our yard and in just a few minutes stolen something that had taken us months to save for. Our son was heartbroken. Studly Doright, though, was determined to get that bike back.

We thought he was nuts, of course. Dumas, Texas, was a town of about 19,000 back then. Certainly that bike was parked safely in someone’s garage waiting to be painted or sold to some kid in another town.

Then one Saturday afternoon a couple of weeks after the bike had been stolen Studly and I were in his old pickup truck driving home from mowing lawns. We both had full time jobs, but mowing lawns provided extra cash for purchasing extras like new clothes for the kids and bicycles for Christmas. Money was tight back then.

As we neared our home, a kid on an older bicycle turned down our street, and Studly went on point like a bird dog.

“Those are Jason’s wheels,” he said.

He dropped me off at the house and took off after the kid. I’d seen the bike, a run down rusty banana seat affair, but hadn’t paid attention to the wheels. Studly, though, had been vigilant.

He was gone for a couple of hours, but when Studly returned to the house he had three teenaged boys crowded into the cab of his pickup and a tangle of bicycle parts in the back. I watched from the living room window as he supervised the crew in putting Jason’s bike back together. The lecture he gave them as they worked was one part fatherly and another part mafioso. I have no doubt he made them an offer they’d better not refuse.

Our son received a similarly stern lecture when he arrived home that afternoon, with the bottom line being that he’d better not ever leave that bike outside overnight again. As far as I know, he never did and that bike went with us to North Dakota and beyond.

Getting the bike back felt like a small victory during that period of our lives. Not much was going right for our little family at that time, but Studly turned things around. He’s still doing that, just in different ways. I’m pretty lucky to have him.

Peace, people.

Flute Flavored

Yesterday I drove all the way across Tallahassee to Governor’s Square Mall solely for the purpose of getting a foot massage. You see, the middle metatarsal on my right foot has fallen, and it can’t get up. Consequently, I’m dealing with considerable pain when I walk.

There’s a Chinese man, Hong, at the mall who knows just how to manipulate my foot to provide relief from the pain for several hours. While he works on me I lean back in a recliner and drift away. I can never quite go to sleep, though, because my mind starts playing “Name That Tune” as Muzak with an Asian influence wafts through the spa area.

First up today was Greensleeves. If you’ve never heard this song played on a pipa, also known as a Chinese lute, you don’t know what you’re missing. Anyway, I identified the tune immediately. Here’s a video featuring the pipa:

https://youtu.be/1GJiliDvXhk

Next up was It Never Rains in Southern California, but it took me half the song to figure that one out. The Asian influenced instrumental version lacked the pathos of the original song by Albert Hammond, turning it into just so many notes.

https://youtu.be/XqMEEvmfyQU

During my treatment, song after recognizable song drifted through the spa: Für Elise, Rhinestone Cowboy, Everybody’s Talking at Me, to name a few. Then some melody was introduced that I’d never heard before. It was lovely, but for the life of me I couldn’t place it.

I asked Hong what the song was, and he shrugged, but told me the instrument I was hearing was a dizi, or Chinese flute. So I dubbed the song, “Flute Flavored.” If there’s not already a song by this title, there certainly should be.

Peace, people.

Get Off My Lawn

Do we get crankier as we get older, or could it be that we just do not care anymore what people think of us? Maybe that perceived crankiness is just a result of the wearing away of social constraints. Why am I even contemplating this?

I’ve been a fairly nice person most of my life, but I do have something of a temper. It’s something I try to work through, and I’ve gotten better at it through the years, but now as I approach my 62nd birthday I find that I’ve lost my ability to tolerate certain things.

Usually those things are large concepts, like racism and misogyny. I have zero tolerance for those who discriminate on the basis of race or gender, and I’ve been saddened to discover that some people I counted as friends over the years do both. I’ve gotten cranky with them, and in some cases they are no longer my friends.

Other times those things that make me cranky are little and local, like littering. One day last week I was behind a 40-something mother and her pre-teen son as they exited a convenience store in Tallahassee. Both of them had bought big gulp type sodas (huge cups) and were unwrapping their straws in the parking lot. I watched in horror as they tossed their straw wrappings on the ground.

Before they got into their car, I said, “Excuse me, I believe these belong here,” as I bent down and scooped up the wrappers, dramatically depositing them into a trash can that was literally two steps from them.

Now, the instant I said that I thought, “Oh crap, they’re both bigger than I am.” But I casually strolled to my car and drove away while they remained sitting in the parking lot. Who knows, maybe they learned something? Or maybe they took down my license plate and are plotting to take me down. But if they follow me to Doright Manor, I’ve got one thing to say, “Get off my lawn!”

Peace, people.

A Penny for My Thoughts?

Never in my life

Have pennies been offered

In trade for my thoughts

Should it happen now

I would most likely decline

Given inflation

Except, google says

The cost of thoughts have

Dropped to all-time lows

Little known fact, the more thoughts that are shared publicly the cheaper they become. Thoughts were 1¢ back in 1522 and reached an all time high of 79¢ in 1895. Once the patent for radio was gotten in 1896 thought value began to decline due to the growth of the newly patented invention. By the time of the first televisions, thoughts were only 54¢. After television, the value began to drop exponentially. Nowadays, with the invention of the internet, an individual thought is only worth about .000005¢.

All of these numbers are accounting for inflation.

Death by Bathtub Revisited

In retrospect, I should’ve titled this one, “Oatmeal, Oatmeal Everywhere, but not a Bite to Eat.”

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2016/01/16/death-by-bathtub/

Rower’s Remorse Revisited

I’d forgotten about this piece! We haven’t been out in our kayak for awhile. Maybe it’s time to try it again. Maybe not.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2015/02/13/rowers-remorse/

The photos below were taken well after the post was first published. Those adorable girls are two of our five grandkids, McKayla and Harper, near our little lake.

No Sleep = No Blog Post

Okay, despite the title of this post I feel compelled to write something.

On Thursday morning Studly Doright and I had the following text exchange:

All he needs is milk and pot pies. All I need is eight hours of sleep. I don’t even like milk or pot pies, but if consuming either meant I could sleep I’d buy large quantities of both.

Having slept very little on Wednesday night, I figured I’d sleep soundly on Thursday night. Wouldn’t that have made sense? I must have dozed off for a few minutes after we went to bed last night. A bit of drool on my pillow was proof of that, as well as the reason I woke up. There’s nothing like the feel of cold, wet slobber on one’s cheek to bring all the senses alive. Ick.

I couldn’t go back to sleep after trying for an hour, so I took my book and went to the sofa in the den thinking that reading for awhile would soon make my eyelids droop, and I’d fall asleep mid-sentence, awakening renewed and refreshed. Nope. Never happened. I finished the entire book and was so wired afterwards one would’ve thought I’d consumed multiple cups of espresso during the night. It’s a good thing I’m retired. This could be a long day.

Here’s a clip from the Mary Tyler Moore Show. I could’ve used Mr. Grant’s help last night.

https://youtu.be/jslAOzi_7sE

Peace, (yawn!) People.

I Floundered at Disney Princess Trivia

The prep work I did for Disney Princess Trivia at The Brass Tap in Tallahassee didn’t help our team much on Tuesday night. I’m not sure where the “Hot Mommas” (yep, that was our team name) ended up, but we were way closer to the bottom of the roster than the top.

We had ten members of our Tallahassee Women’s Social Meetup group show up for the event, including some first timers. There was a good bit of giggling and camaraderie involved, so the gathering was a success even if we didn’t place in the top three. Or the top ten. Maybe not even in the top 18. And there were but 20 teams. Sigh.

Not all of the questions centered on Disney royalty. There were music questions and ones pertaining to general knowledge, as well. We had some knowledgeable folks in our group, but we just never could surge to the top. And I have to admit I was part of the problem.

I turned to the Duckside. I know, I know. It’s hard to believe that I could be a hindrance rather than a help, but twice last night I was so certain of my answers that I convinced the team to vote with me. You’ve probably guessed that both times I was wrong.

Just call me Goofy.

On a side note, I’d never been to The Brass Tap before last night, and I was thoroughly impressed. The food was really good for bar fare, and the wait staff was amazingly efficient and friendly. Next Tuesday the trivia theme is the tv series, “Shameless.” Since I’ve never watched a single episode I think I’ll pass, but The Brass Tap is definitely a venue worth revisiting. I’ll just wish upon a Star before the next event.

Peace, people.

Snapshot #222

When one of your favorite authors corresponds with you on Twitter. Eeee!!!!

I’m calling this one, “Fan Girl Geek Out.”

Disney Princess Trivia

Tonight (Tuesday) I’m hosting a Meetup group for a night of Disney Princess Trivia at a Tallahassee bar. Normally I feel fairly confident in my ability to compete in trivia contests, but I’ve kind of skipped out on some of the more recent Disney princess movies.

I’ve tried practicing for the event by taking online quizzes, but I should have watched the movies when I had the chance. The only answers I’ve gotten correct so far deal with Cinderella, Snow White, and Sleeping Beauty. Everything else is pure guesswork.

I have learned a few tidbits from practicing online:

  1. Did you know that of all the princesses, only Pocahontas doesn’t have a single costume change?
  2. Or that Tinkerbelle used to make the princess list, but was booted out? Probably some sort of discrimination based on height.
  3. Mulan’s father’s name was Fa Zhou (kind of sounds and looks like father, so there’s my mnemonic.)
  4. Merida’s brothers’ names were Hamish, Hubert, and Harris in the film “Brave.” I’ve seen this film, but thought the brothers were Huey, Dewey, and Louie. Wrong cartoon.
  5. “The Princess and the Frog” is set in 1920’s New Orleans.
  6. “Mulan” is the only Disney princess film to tackle war and cross dressing. Sounds like a way to avoid serving back in the old days.
  7. Ariel, in “The Little Mermaid,” wears a pink bikini top and later a purple gown.
  8. Oprah Winfrey voices the character of Eudora in “The Princess and the Frog.” I guessed correctly on this one.
  9. Only two Disney Princesses, Aurora and Cinderella, had wicked stepmothers. I’d have thought there were many more!
  10. Ariel is the princess with the most licensed, themed merchandise.

Now my head hurts, and I’m suffering from princess overload. I’m even beginning to see dwarves hiding in every corner. Prince Phillipe, hurry and save me from Ursula before she turns my mother into a bear and cuts my hair with my dad’s sword. I have a bad feeling about this.

Peace, people.