silly little bee
the daisies on my tee shirt
offer no pollen.

buzz on along bee
i’d rather not swat you, friend
but the flower’s fake.
blazing day heat bee
seek your blossoms in the shade
purple hibiscus.

Picture this: A man and a woman, strangers to one another, agree to try to survive in a harsh environment for a period of 21 days. Naked. While being captured on film.
This is an actual television series in the U.S.

Each participant is allowed to bring one tool or accessory to facilitate their survival. I’d bring a gun to kill the huge snakes in the dark jungle. So far no one’s done that. Perhaps guns are against the rules, or perhaps bullets would count as a second tool.
Typically each couple experiences extreme dehydration, epic weight loss due to starvation, and emotional angst at being naked with a stranger.
Ok, I made that last part up, but I imagine my attempt at being on Naked and Afraid might go something like this:
Nekkid and Skeert
Stranger Joe: So, what tool did you bring?
Me: A book.
Joe: A book! That’s not a tool!
Me: (Whacks Joe upside the head with my book) Oh really?
Joe: Ok! I guess you made your point. I brought an axe.
Me: I guess that’ll work. Just don’t ask to use my book. Guess we need to dispense with our clothes. You first.
Joe: (strips) Your turn.
Me: (strips)
Joe: Ha! Ha! Oh my gosh! Can’t Unsee THAT!!! (Drops axe on foot; loses two toes)
Medical crew steps in and takes Joe to the nearest emergency room.
I wander in the wilderness for 21 days, reading my book and munching on berries, occasionally fending off snakes and lizards. In the process I lose 22 lbs. and find my inner goddess.
Peace, people!
Cursing, even mildly, was severely frowned on by everyone I knew in my childhood days. A “golly!” or “gosh!” uttered by me or one of my friends would result in a tongue lashing and the threat of a good old fashioned soaping of the offending mouth. Although no one, including me had ever actually seen someone have their mouths washed out with soap the thought was daunting enough to curtail, if not completely halt, the use of four letter words.
Of course once we became rebellious teenagers the taboos against cursing lured us into dangerous territory. First came “darn” then “hell” then “damnit” before we became masters of the combo curse, “Damn it all to hell!”
I might have been considered a cursing prodigy, so quickly did I incorporate proper technique into my daily language. And I was an astute cursing judge, able to discern instantly the level of experience another had with the fine art of four letter words. We had a band director at good old Floydada high school who threw out phrases like, “I don’t give a hell!” Novice!
There are folks I know who are non-cursers. My mother-in-law, Saint Helen, falls into this category; although, on occasion I have heard her say she didn’t give a “continental dam” about something. It was shocking, to say the least.
Nowadays I hardly curse at all, apart from the occasional outburst, usually reserved for indicating someone’s total lack of common sense. Now that everyone’s doing it, it just doesn’t seem so rebellious. I feel like bringing back some good old fashioned curse words like “tarnation” and “dagnabbit” or “dadgum.”
So, what in tarnation are we gonna do about that dadgum congress, dagnabbit!?” Oh, that seems so insufficient.
Peace, people!
I have a confession to make. I’ve never watched West Side Story in its entirety. I have; however, watched this scene more times than I can count.
http://youtu.be/L7BQRGXFLJs
Natalie Wood was the prettiest girl ever, and I really wanted to feel as pretty as she actually was. Over the years I’ve felt pretty on a couple of occasions. It’s hard work, and I’m just not cut out for hard labor.
Peace, people!
I never learned to play piano
I never learned to ballroom dance
I cannot paint with watercolors
I cannot sew a pair of pants
But I can drink wine.
I’ve never climbed a mountain
I cannot water ski
Roller blades and ice skates
Were never meant for me.
But I can drink wine.
I could never do a handstand
A cartwheel or backbend
I never manage to sing on key
And flowers I cannot tend.
But I can drink wine.
There are many things
I cannot do, but I don’t really mind
As long as there are grapes out there
I’ll continue drinking wine.
Cheers.
I found this on Facebook this morning.
I believe it highlights the particular agony of writing haiku. It made me giggle.
Peace, people!