Monday, June 16, 2008
A Call Out
The daughter, ever sly and humorous will be picking up a dog, a Westy to wit, shortly. The pup comes from a litter of 4, he being the 3rd one sold. The breeder sounds like a real character, a retired gentleman in northeastern PA who has a rambling old house that is the domain of 14 of these little energetic flashes of white fur. The last time we had pets in our dinky (Sub-Saharan word for "tight, small space") house was 15 years ago or so. A caged rat named Nicodemus, an animal whose name took longer to say than the poor animal lived. When the Ever-Loving wife and I first took up shared residence, I brought a Maine Coon-ish cat into our connubial bliss situation. He, poor guy, didn't last too much longer as his abundant hair, or rather, his abundant hair loss was a source of allergic reactions for our kids. In a cruel trick of timing, he was neutered the same day that our first-born arrived. Cats being such intelligent creatures, he always looked at my son with a scowlish look, convinced that his emasculation and my son's arrival was more than mere coincidence. So, off he went to another owner blessed with no aversion to cat dander.So, we haven't had an animal in our house in quite a while. We haven't been tied down by four legged beasts that would put a crimp in our imagined spontaneous & exciting lives. The kids are grown and we...have opted to burden ourselves with a wet-nosed tail-wagging bundle of joy. Who says you get smarter as you get older?
Oh, yeah. The name. I had mentioned the slyness of my daughter, right? She opted for the Nom du Chien of Barko. Yes, Barko, which coincidentally rhymes with Darko. Wonder who'll be coming when he's called?
Note Bene: My apologies in advance for sappy puppy photos that will most probably appear on this blog. I will provide advance warnings of these treacly pics whenever possible.
Labels: Domestic Burdens, Manly Advice, Self-Therapy
Monday, April 14, 2008
Why He'll Win in November
Continuing in my totally un-analytical prediction of the 2008 Election results, here's another reason McCain will be our oldest elected president. How do you teflonize yourself against the not-so-distant onslaught of economic woe? Well, just declare us in the Recession zone. If he wins, blame can't be put on him as he already pronounced "Bad Times Ahead". Heck, he may even make it another 2 terms for the 'pubs, since the self-evisceratin' Dems may still be at it in 2012. And, if things don't go well for China in this summer's Olympics, I think it'll be McCain who will benefit the most, irregardless as to the amount of China-bashing Mr. Obama or Ms. Clinton have done recently.
I'll be thinking of a Richardson candidacy in 2012, unless, Mr. Obama cleverly picks him for his VP in this coming election. Then, Mr. McCain may have a struggle on his hands unless Colin Powell comes out of his "former" state of being and validates a broader platform for the Arizona senator.
Now, all of that happening would make November 2008 truly interesting.
I'll be thinking of a Richardson candidacy in 2012, unless, Mr. Obama cleverly picks him for his VP in this coming election. Then, Mr. McCain may have a struggle on his hands unless Colin Powell comes out of his "former" state of being and validates a broader platform for the Arizona senator.
Now, all of that happening would make November 2008 truly interesting.
Labels: Life Decisions, Manly Advice
Friday, June 22, 2007
"May you live in interesting times!"
I've been using this alleged aged Chinese curse as a poorly construed version of an off-the-cuff comment to friends and acquaintances as commentary on our lives and, the key word, "interesting" for quite some time. Quite a lot of time, perhaps, as my mouthing of this phrase no longer results in a polite chuckle but more of a mare's harumph.
Now, come to find out, this phrase is neither Chinese, nor old. Funny how self-actualization takes place.
I resolve, this day forward, that any wise-acre phrase I mouth off will be labeled as either Croatian (my favorite note on this entry is "many (proverbs) are considered to be traditional so source cannot be determined") or Klingon. Not enough Croatians out there to second guess me and who the hell is going to believe if that race starts doubting my verbiage?
Now, come to find out, this phrase is neither Chinese, nor old. Funny how self-actualization takes place.
I resolve, this day forward, that any wise-acre phrase I mouth off will be labeled as either Croatian (my favorite note on this entry is "many (proverbs) are considered to be traditional so source cannot be determined") or Klingon. Not enough Croatians out there to second guess me and who the hell is going to believe if that race starts doubting my verbiage?
Labels: Manly Advice, Quirks
Monday, June 04, 2007
Lou! Not the Hat!?!!?
The denizens of the home dugout at Wrigley Field have been making all of the news programs this past weekend, so a trip over to Cubby Blue revealed Lou's Latest Escapdes and the Bout of Chicago.
Darn! I was hoping that Mr. Cubby Blue had actually drawn a scene of Lou in mid kick. Here's a shaky replay of Looooooou, picking on somebody not his size. As my son would have said, "Lou, come on, not the hat! Don't kick the hat!"
Darn! I was hoping that Mr. Cubby Blue had actually drawn a scene of Lou in mid kick. Here's a shaky replay of Looooooou, picking on somebody not his size. As my son would have said, "Lou, come on, not the hat! Don't kick the hat!"
Labels: Manly Advice
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Rosebud...
... was on Charles Foster Kane's mind at the moment of his demise. Poor guy, that sled was probably perpetually in his head, running the under current of those singularly best childhood memories, when life was not a burden but an assumed snow ball of eternal happiness. Yeah, Kane had his newspapers to allow espousal of his opinion. But his deep inner thoughts? No, blogging didn't exist back then, so we are left without his long drawn out thoughts of his beloved sleigh. A shame.
Luckily, with the Internet and blogging, modern versions of Rosebud are accompanied by detailed inner-sanctum treatises. Where Kane had his Rosebud, Whisky Prajer has his 1987 Fisher Hoo-koo-e-koo. Not content with one Rosebud, it seems Mr. WP also had a Garry and now he's thinking of this.
WP! You can't be creating childhood memories when you're not, well, not a child anymore. Stick to that green clunker you've got leaning on the side of your house like a well-snockered patron of McSorley's.
Luckily, with the Internet and blogging, modern versions of Rosebud are accompanied by detailed inner-sanctum treatises. Where Kane had his Rosebud, Whisky Prajer has his 1987 Fisher Hoo-koo-e-koo. Not content with one Rosebud, it seems Mr. WP also had a Garry and now he's thinking of this.
WP! You can't be creating childhood memories when you're not, well, not a child anymore. Stick to that green clunker you've got leaning on the side of your house like a well-snockered patron of McSorley's.
Labels: Manly Advice
Monday, April 09, 2007
Manly Advice #349
When planning any lengthy driving trips that would be incumbent with stop-overs at rest stations frequented by large, swarthy, spitting men with possible pre-Cambrian attitudes about what manliness does and does not entail, it is recommended that your vegetable of choice partaken of at the last meal before the trip is not that primitive-looking stalk known as asparagus. Things are dicey enough in a public facility what with the questionable colors on the wall, stall notations lacking in metaphors and literary allusions, and urinals challenging one's personal space feng shui without having to also concoct a rhetorical discourse to your fellow visitors on the olfactory issues possibly emanating from your body.
Especially when a long-haul truck-driver is parked next to your oh-too-close stall, humming a ditty and sniffing very loudly in your general direction.
A treatise on asparagus is not what he'll be attending his full displeasure on. No, not that. His attention will, my fellow gents, be paid to regaling loudly, I must add, to all of the other rest room standees of the malodorous emanations of your presence.
What started as a simple plan of relief when you pulled off of the highway will now result in a stroll down Junior High School Way. So, resist the temptation of the Asparagus Spear if it is the preservation of your shaky self-perception that is desired.
Especially when a long-haul truck-driver is parked next to your oh-too-close stall, humming a ditty and sniffing very loudly in your general direction.
A treatise on asparagus is not what he'll be attending his full displeasure on. No, not that. His attention will, my fellow gents, be paid to regaling loudly, I must add, to all of the other rest room standees of the malodorous emanations of your presence.
What started as a simple plan of relief when you pulled off of the highway will now result in a stroll down Junior High School Way. So, resist the temptation of the Asparagus Spear if it is the preservation of your shaky self-perception that is desired.
Labels: Manly Advice
