I had the oddest dream a couple of nights ago, and while I can’t remember much detail I do remember one repetitive scene. Some action–a trigger word–spoken by me in the dream resulted in a handsome man walking towards me while loudly eating popcorn. He never spoke, but approached and offered me some of the popcorn, to which I’d respond, “You know I can’t have popcorn!” before slapping him across the face.
When I awakened I realized that same scene had occurred at least three times during my dream, and while the trigger word is lost to me I remember it being something mundane. The whole thing reminded me of the old comedy routine known as “Slowly I Turned,” so I promptly googled it.
According to Google, the skit is attributed to comic writer, Joey Faye, and has been performed by a number of comedians through the years. Some of you younger folk might never have seen it, so here are a few clips. It still cracks me up. I’m not sure why.
Relax, Studly Doright and I aren’t splitting the sheets. Heck, after 40 years of marriage it would be a little ridiculous to call the whole thing off just when life is getting good. Of course, that’s not to say there aren’t days when I have to restrain myself from throwing him out a window.
Studly outweighs me by about a hundred pounds, though, so he’s probably safe. Plus we live in a single story home, but don’t think I haven’t occasionally wondered what a good surprise shove might accomplish. (Note to self: delete this post in case of police inquiry.)
No, I’ve decided for the sake of my sanity to take a break from Facebook. This might not sound like a huge issue for most folks who check in once or twice a day to see what’s going on with their friends, but I have an addiction to this social network, spending as much as two hours a day scrolling through FB statuses on my phone.
I know that’s sad, but in my defense after so many cross country moves Facebook has become my best means of keeping in touch with family and friends. Lately, though, I feel such anger and disappointment that I’m not sure I want to keep in touch with anyone via Facebook.
Of course my own sense of right and wrong is to blame here. Increasingly I have found it more difficult to ignore the racist comments and the outright lies being peddled as truths. Rather than call someone out as being a lying sack of shit, I’ve chosen to separate from them for a bit. How’s that for diplomacy?
Wednesday evening I had the rare choice of attending two events. One, an informational meeting about a women’s salsa group, had been on my calendar for weeks. The other, a movie night with a friend and her daughters, had come up on the spur of the moment.
Since I was really curious about the salsa group, I gave my regrets to my friend and headed to a dance studio in Tallahassee. I arrived just as an exercise class called “Twerk It!” was ending. A combination of hip hop and Zumba, the class looked like exhausting fun.
Slowly the Twerk It! group left the building in groups of twos and threes and the salsa instructor appeared. She was an attractive, fit woman in her mid-30’s who quickly got into her spiel about the joys of Touch Salsa, a franchised program that can apparently be found worldwide.
As she spoke I became more excited. Not only did participants get to learn salsa routines, but they could participate in dance competitions as part of a larger group. And, they got to wear cute dance costumes. Count me in!
Now, the Facebook ad for this class indicated it was informational only, so I’d worn my flip flops. BIG mistake! I cannot emphasize this enough.
The instructor had us line up behind her to learn a few basic steps. I was doing fine until I had to do a right turn. My flip flops stuck to the floor and guess who went sprawling? Yep, me.
Undeterred I shook it off and got up in time to tackle a left turn. I knew better than to try to pivot this time, so I sort of hopped. It wasn’t pretty, but I stayed upright.
Finally our little group got through five basic steps. That’s when the instructor added in the arm movements. I’m fairly sure that had anyone been watching my gesticulations they would’ve felt compelled to notify emergency personnel.
I abandoned trying to follow the instructions and just did a variation of waving my hands in the air like I just didn’t care. The instructor gave me a look of pure, unadulterated disgust. Can you blame her? I’m sure she thought I wasn’t trying. But the sad truth is, I was trying really hard.
So, I decided the Touch Salsa class wasn’t for me, and after paying my $5.00 I told the instructor I wouldn’t be participating. I might be imagining things, but I’m pretty sure she breathed a sigh of relief.
Now about that Twerk It! class? That might be right up my alley. Stay tuned.
I have to admit this political season in the United States is getting to me. One cannot turn on the TV without encountering a nasty story or stories about this candidate or the other.
On social media one might scroll through dozens of political memes before encountering even one cute kitten video, and weren’t cute kittens the reason social media was invented?
I’m guilty of posting the political stuff on my Facebook page. Even though there is absolutely no one on my friends’ list who doubts my political leanings I am compelled to seek out and share that one photo that just might make everyone, even obstructionists like senate majority leader Mitch McConnell, change their minds and see things my way.
Can you imagine? The phone rings,
“Hello?” I say.
“Ms. Noyes, this is senate majority leader Mitch McConnell.”
“No effing way!”
“Yes, it’s me. Surprise!”I can hear the smile and goodwill in his voice.
“Look,” he continues, “I want you to know that SCOTUS meme you posted…it really made me reexamine my position. Now, not only am I going to urge members of my party to visit with the President’s nominee, but I’m going to suggest they give him a down vote so Mr. Obama can nominate a true Liberal to the court.”
“Well, it’s about time you saw the error of your ways. Would you now please ask jackassinpoughkeepsie to stop trolling me online?”
“Sure! Sure! Anything for someone as politically astute as yourself.”
Something occurs to me, “Say Mitch, you know if you go this route with the Supreme Court nominee the National Rifle Association is going to pull its support so quickly that not only will your head spin, but the heads of your children and your children’s children will look like multi-colored tops orbiting the equator.”
“No worries! I’ve stockpiled the um, donations the NRA has made to my campaign for years, so I’m set for life. For several lives, actually.”
“Good to know, Mitch. So I’m pretty busy. I need to get back to scouring the web for cute cats. I hear there’s a great video showing them jumping out of boxes.”
“Okay! Hey, keep up the good work. You really made me see the light.”
“Goodbye Ms. Noyes.”
My imaginary conversation with Mitch made me do some soul searching. What if, instead of posting serious political memes on my Facebook page I looked for the lighter side, the Pollyanna version of politics. So with that thought I give you the following. Both sides will get skewered: