Mom Running Out of Places to Stash Pot

 

Murfreesboro, TN – Her voice wracked with exasperation, 34 year old wife, mother and part-time dog groomer Lydia Collins lamented the fact that she’s quickly running out of locations to “stash” her marijuana.

 “I used to keep it in a little pouch with my… you know, feminine products in the bathroom, but then (daughter) Katie started nosing around in there”, she began, delineating the ongoing journey to find suitable hiding places. “Then I used an older purse I kept in the closet, but I was terrified that (husband) Reginald would find it there. He had no reason to look, of course, but I just couldn’t risk it. I mean I sing in the church choir, for Christ-sake.”

 

Collins continued to elaborate on the nooks and crannies she’d utilized over the years, but at one or another point, felt wasn’t secure enough. “There was my eyeglasses case, but I was afraid someone would smell it. Then there was my jewelry box. Wait, no it was under the mattress then the jewelry box, then under the mattress again.”

 

“And I know that (son) David found it a time or two”, she continued. “There was this one time he just grinned at me all through dinner, and we weren’t even having anything he particularly cared for. I checked later that night, and sure enough, my stash had been pinched.”

 

Both son and daughter admitted they’d each stumbled upon their mother’s pot on multiple occasions, but didn’t have the heart to take it all.  “It was like a game”, Katie reported, “take just enough to make her wonder if she’d been pinched.”

 

At press time the pot smoking mom was weighing the feasibility of utilizing the backyard storage shed, but ultimately decided the squirrels would find and eat it.

What Would Trump Do?

Make no mistake about it, the date January 6^th 2021 will rank among the top of all the other infamous dates in American history. On this date, a sitting President exhorted and extolled his followers to forcibly assault and attack the U. S. Capitol for the dual purposes of preventing the reading of electoral college votes from the 2020 presidential election – already certified by all 50 states - and to terrorize any and all who dared oppose them. A sitting President of the United States of America.

Which begs the question: What would Trump have done if he won the election fair and square, but  Biden and his supporters behaved in this deplorable, despicable, illegal manner?

 It doesn’t take a genius:

·         The National Guard and other law enforcement personnel would have been on the scene much sooner, been instructed to deal much more harshly with the perpetrators, and would have resulted in much more death and personal injury.

·         Trump would have spent this period watching the events on TV while simultaneously furiously tweeting about the “assault on democracy” and “sore losers” and how they should all be “locked up”.  (Remember, in this alternate history, Trump would not have been put in Twitter jail.)

·         Trump would appear in the rose garden flanked by his squad of “yes” men, spewing self-aggrandizing, pithy platitudes about how he – and he alone – saved democracy in America. He would speak in glowing terms about how his victory was a “mandate” and that the clear and distinct message from the American populace was that they were ready for “real change”; which is Trump-speak for more power and less oversight for himself.

 I could go on and on; the erosion of our prestige among the community of nations, the further diversion of our attention and efforts and resources in combatting covid-19, even more political polarization.

 A second Trump term would have been a nightmarish scenario for those of us who desire, and  comprehend the true definition of democracy.

The New Abnormal

In the wake of recent events – the Covid-19 pandemic, widespread social unrest, and an economy which has nose-dived – many have suggested that what we are experiencing is “the new normal”.  As one dictionary defines normal as “conforming to the standard or the common type”, wouldn’t the begged question have to be: What exactly is or isn’t standard and common?  There have been epidemics and pandemics throughout our history; there has been social unrest; our economy has ebbed and flowed with regard to unemployment, productivity, the stock market, etc. 

While there will undoubtedly be changes in our day to day lives going forward (hopefully we can finally do away with the handshake, a germ-sharing practice which originated in the 5th century B.C., and social distancing will become part of our culture to some degree), I wonder how “normal” our lives were before. When one looks at things like the buying power of the middle class (sometimes referred to as the “middle 20%”), which has stair-stepped down since the early 1980s, the undeniable fact is that the rich are getting richer and poor poorer. Over half a million Americans were homeless for at least a portion of 2019. Our government is wracked with corruption and ineptitude. Many of our customs and beliefs are steeped in ignorance and narrowmindedness. And this is normal? 

Whatever the “new normal” becomes, it is my sincere and fervent hope that it includes a generous portion of compassion, and empathy, and fairness, and integrity, and critical thinking. A desire to grasp that our journeys are not the same and our modes of transporting ourselves along this trek vary widely. The ability to connect on a deeper level, and understand that we are much more alike than different. 

The new normal: may it not be like the old.

Man Inexplicably Hoarding Wire Hangers

Racine, WI – Perched on a kitchen chair, a dizzying array of Gantt and fishbone charts taped to the wall behind him, 32 year old mortgage consultant Craig Degraw shared his vision of the future: a wire, or coat hanger shortage.



“It just makes sense”, he reported to local news correspondent Hillary Broadnax via Zoom. “First it was toilet paper and hand sanitizer, then masks, then meat. How long do you think it’ll be before Americans realize how valuable these babies are”, he continued, waving a gleaming example in front of his laptop camera.



“Just think of the ways you can use them. You can make flower pots and fruit baskets with them. Once unassembled, you can bind a person’s hands behind their back in case they break in to steal your Clorox wipes and potted meat. You can use them as skewers if you want to make sad little smores on your stovetop. You could use one to pop the lock out of someone’s door in case you want to break in and steal their gloves and beef jerky.”



“Yeah, that’s Craig”, reported Degraw’s sister Cyndi Fauxwiller when asked for comment, “he’s not taking this thing too well. He’s got, like, a few thousand stashed in his basement. Every time I talk to him he’s like, “how you doing on wire hangers there?” It’s sad. He’s a sad, sad man right now.”



Degraw continued to delineate his version of society’s descent into utter chaos. He surmised that stretch pants, multivitamins, and frozen burritos would be the next items to disappear from shelves, followed by doorbell cams, tube socks, and Pringles.



At press time Degraw was reportedly checking Amazon for the expected arrival date of his latest order of an additional six “fifty packs”.

Woman Wielding Lint Roller Like a Chainsaw

Gastonia, NC - With all the fervor and gusto she could conjure, local woman Belinda Wirtz frantically assaulted the sleeves of her yuletide sweater with a lint roller, its cylinder spinning at lightening speed as she approached her company Christmas dinner.



“It’s the material”, she sighed as she set about attacking her midriff like a burly lumberjack carving into a ponderosa pine.  “Every single speck of dust in the house just clings to it.” 



“And the dog hair”, she continued exasperated, “Toby has been shedding like there’s no tomorrow” she said, referring to her four-year-old Chow \ Pomeranian mix.  “It’s everywhere”.



After another cycle of running the adhesive implement up and down her pant legs, she huffed and steadied herself, murmuring something about having everything dry cleaned the next time.  “That’s the best I can do at this point”, she mouthed dejectedly, her voice permeated with resignation as she searched for any additional microscopic specks of foreign material before entering the banquet hall.



At press time Wirtz reportedly slipped the magical dust wand to her husband Walt and asked him to “get the shoulders one last time”.

Eli Manning Listed as ‘Confused’ for Sunday’s Game

East Rutherford NY – For the first time in NFL history, a player has been slated as questionable for : “Confusion”.



“I knew it was coming”, reported starting center Jon Halapio. “Last week we were breaking huddle and he asks me the snap count.  I’m like you’re the quarterback, make something up”.



“Dude asked me where the clean towels were the other day after practice”, CB DeAndre Baker said, shaking his head slowly.  “I mean dude been playing here since I was in kindergarten and he gonna ask me?”



Coach Shurmer brushed aside questions regarding the unconventional call and Manning’s reaction.  “He’s a big boy.  He knows how it works.  What he can’t seem to grasp is the difference between a  Cover-2 Beater and a Zone-Weak, Bootleg Strong.”



At press time Manning was reportedly sitting dejectedly in the locker room watching a 24 second loop of his two yard touchdown pass to Victor Cruz in Super Bowl XLVI.

Company Phasing Out Raises in Lieu of Tawdry Motivational Trinkets

Riverside, CA – Allegiant Holdings CEO Maxwell Gustafsen announced today that the company is eschewing raises, bonuses, and other monetary compensation in favor of “personalized motivational awards” which, he states, would “resonate” with the employees on a deeper level.

“Driven by ever increasing competition and mounting operational expenses, we feel that these measures are imperative to remaining solvent and viable”, Gustafsen stated in a message on the company’s intranet.

“Oh, look”, Account Professional Lydia Gleeson stated sarcastically pointing to a mouse pad bearing the inscription: “You Rock!” in glitter.  “It’s my four year anniversary, and this is what I get.  Last year it was a paltry two percent raise, but still”.

“There goes my gym membership I guess”, she said, shaking her head.

Other awards included a coffee mug bearing the epigrammatic dictum “You’re the cream of the company!” and an embroidered key-shaped desk sign with the kitschy adage “Our employees are the key to our success!”

“Eleven years”, lamented Senior Account Manager Bill Ogden, “and they have the nerve to give me a tee shirt with the company logo and my name in stenciled block letters.  That’s it.  Eleven years.”

“It’s not even my size.”

Gustafsen was unavailable for comment at press time, as he and his pithy but voluptuous “personal assistant” Cassandra Milagro were headed to the airport where his private jet waited to whisk them to a “business meeting” in Cabo San Lucas.

Man Still Waiting For Score to Load

Sarasota, NY – With a single ad and what appeared to be a batting line-up just beginning to appear on his cell phone, 28 year old Clive Ferbus frantically refreshed the ESPN website from which he simply wanted to know the score of the Yankees Orioles game.

“It still says two to nothing”, the obviously frustrated Ferbus reported, “but it also says first inning, and I know it’s at least the top of the third.”

After another few agonizing minutes, during which Petsmart, GEICO and Ashley Homestore ads appeared, the increasingly agitated man still had no better understanding of the current score.

“Jeez”, he muttered, holding the phone aloft as if to invoke the nearest tower. “It still says two, but I mean is that the score?  Balls, strikes, what?”

“Runner on second”, he continued, his frustration reaching the boiling point, “but who?  Who’s at bat?”

Sources reported that a by then semi-delirious Ferbus finally gave up, turned his phone off and shoved it in his pocket just as a Walmart video began to play.

Man at Superbowl Party Wants Everyone to Know He Brought the Wings

Marietta, GA – Thirty-three year old divorced father of two Matt Poole insured that everyone in attendance at his friend Rodney Spence’s Superbowl party was aware that he, and he alone, brought the wings.

“Hey guys, the wings are on the counter by the microwave”, he said jovially to a small crowd which had assembled near the kitchen. “I brought ‘em”.

Poole then proceeded to grab a sriracha wing from the tray and stroll through the den where the majority of the partygoers were waiting for the kickoff. “Spicy”, he announced to no one in particular.  “That’ll light you up”, he added, exhaling sharply.

“Better get ‘em while they’re hot.  Won’t be any left by halftime, I can assure you.”

“Matt doesn’t get out much these days”, Margo Swanson, his neighbor and friend of his ex-wife explained.  “So this is kind of a big deal for him.  Honestly, I made the Thai curry and mango pineapple sauces”, she continued, her voice dropping.  “He texted me night before last just freaking out because he doesn’t know the first thing about cooking.”

“Only a few of these delicious cilantro lime wings left”, the completely broken man extolled as the partygoers filed past him, oblivious to his pleas.

At press time, Poole had cornered Rodney’s wife Belinda and offered to give her his recipes in exchange for one of her single female friend’s phone number.

Drinks With the Girls Doesn’t Warrant Fluffing Favorite Jeans

Warwick, Rhode Island – According to sources, an impromptu after work meet-up with the girlfriends was insufficient justification for tossing her favorite jeans in the dryer for a few minutes to de-wrinkle reported 28 year old human resources manager Bonita Sutherford.

“I mean it’s just Shenanigan’s”, she continued, referring to a local bar she and her neighbors frequented.  “It’s not like I’m going to run into Jason Momoa in there”, she sighed, giving the jeans a quick bullwhip snap and running her fingers through her hair in a half-hearted attempt to convince herself she’d “freshened up some”.

The denim pants, the back pocket of which contained a Starbucks receipt and a hair tie leftover from Sutherford’s last outing, went largely unnoticed during the evening, due mostly to the fact that her friend Janice Jordan’s revealing top garnered the lionesses share of the attention from the men in attendance.

“I would absolutely kill to be able to wear something like that”, the slightly tipsy Sutherford mused.

Sources also reported that a morose Sutherford did not in fact encounter anyone even remotely resembling Jason Momoa over the course of the evening, but did get a wink from bar regular “Flannel Shirt Guy” upon leaving.

Business Buzzword Translator

Although not as pervasive as in years past, business buzzwords are still with us. I want to believe that there has been a leveling-off of the practice because people are starting to actually think about what they say before they say it, but that’s probably just wishful thinking on my part. Be that as it may, for the uninitiated, here is a list of business buzzwords and their alleged and actual meanings:

Action (as a verb): Supposedly means: To do something with, as in a problem or issue that must be dealt with. Actually means: Absolutely nothing. The word action is a noun.

Action items: Supposedly means: A list of things which must be done or dealt with. Actually means: A list of things which one will get a third of the way through before the business focus changes, and the list is forgotten.

Bandwidth: Supposedly means: The amount of work a person or group can accomplish. Actually means: A convenient excuse to not have time to help you.

Best practice: Supposedly means: A technique, method, or process which can be utilized across a range of applications and organizations. Actually means: This is how they do it over in Accounting, and no one’s been fired yet.

Big picture: Supposedly means: A comprehensive perspective of a situation or issue. Actually means: What we’ve been doing isn’t working, so everyone take one giant step backwards.

Core competencies: Supposedly means: Things that are critical to the way a specific business works. Actually means: One or two things a business can say unequivocally they know how to do.

Customer-centric or customer-focused: Supposedly means: To conduct business in such a manner that the customer’s needs and desires are always in the forefront. Actually means: Knocking 15% off the top to get the sale.

Drill down: Supposedly means: To investigate, or analyze the specifics of an issue. Actually means: To dwell on one item because it’s the only one you even slightly comprehend.

Globalization: Supposedly means: An integration of multi-national economies. Actually means: Your job is going eleven time zones away.

Leverage: Supposedly means: To take advantage of a resource without fully financing that resource. Actually means: To take advantage of a resource so you can blame that resource when the project ultimately fails.

Mission-critical: Supposedly means: A component of a project or organization which is crucial to its success. Actually means: It’s behind schedule and the boss is fuming.

Onboarding: Supposedly means: The process of acquiring, accommodating, assimilating and accelerating new team members. Actually means: Hiring people.

Outside the box: Supposedly means: To think or behave in a non-conventional manner. Actually means: To pretend to think or behave in a non-conventional manner.

Ownership: Supposedly means: To take responsibility for a thing or process. Actually means: The last person to touch it gets the blame.

Results-driven: Supposedly means: A style of working which focuses more on results than the actual work. Actually means: If it doesn’t blow up in our face, we’ll continue to do it that way.

Robust: Supposedly means: Strong; able to withstand and overcome difficulties. Actually means: It’s the boss’ pet project, so we had to invest twice the resources required.

Synergy: Supposedly means: A dynamic state in which combined action is favored over the sum of individual component actions. Actually means: It’s harder to blame any specific person if a group is responsible for it.

Value-added: Supposedly means: The value which is added to a product by a manufacturer or distributor. Actually means: Cost added.

Dysfunctional Relationship Labels That Don’t Exist (but Should)

Someone once said that trying to understand romantic relationships was like trying to nail Jello to a tree.  Okay, it was me; I said it.  The fact that two people can even stand the sight of each other after having been in close proximity for more than a few years is - in and of itself  - mind-boggling, given the various pitfalls that purportedly await your average couple.  But, I digress.

Apparently there are people with nothing better to do with their time than label dysfunctional relationship types.  There’s ghosting - essentially fading away before the other’s eyes - and gaslighting, which the Urban Dictionary describes as “systematically withholding factual information from, and/or providing false information to, the victim - having the gradual effect of making them anxious, confused, and less able to trust their own memory and perception”.  There’s caretaking, codependency, and even a thing called crowd-sourcing.  The latest to catch my attention is cuffing, or entering into a relationship once it gets cold outside, so as to not have to be alone during the holidays, and when it’s… well, cold outside. 

So fine, let’s just slap a label on everything while we’re at it:

Pinwheeling:

Inventing reasons to not be accessible to the other person as their demand on your time increases; e.g. “She was having me go all shopping and whatnot with her, so I had to pinwheel out of there”.

Snorkeling:

Literally sticking your head underneath whatever you can get your hands on; a throw pillow, an empty fast food bag, the dog bed, in order to not have to see or hear the other person.

Belly flopping:

Being as horrible a person as possible so you can tactfully and gracefully bow out, insisting you’re not “good enough” for your partner, thereby absolving yourself of any real responsibility.

Tire kicking:

Comparing your relationship to your friend’s, ostensibly to identify ways to make yours better, but really just looking for cracks in the other’s relationship in the hopes of “trading up”.

Bear poking:

Finding fault with everything your partner says and does in order to provoke them into teeing off on you so you can play victim.

Cartwheeling:

Similar to Pinwheeling, but at a much more frenetic pace.

Shadowboxing:

Pretending that the daily grind of your existence is making you miserable when it’s really your partner – literally everything about your partner – that’s making you miserable.

Button pushing:

Testing the limits of your partner’s patience and tolerance in every conceivable way to ascertain exactly how far they can be pushed before they go all Freddy Krueger on you, and then accusing them of being “too sensitive” or thin-skinned.  Similar to Bear poking, Button pushers are infinitely better at passive-aggressive methods and tactics.

And I’m sure there are a few more, but that’s all I have time for now.  Apparently I’ve been Castle building and am about to be Barrel rolled.

Drunken Bar Patron’s Rendition of Happy Birthday Exactly Like Every Other Bar’s Drunken Patron’s Rendition

Danbury CT – Making up in inebriated enthusiasm for what they lacked in talent, patrons of Mitch’s Tavern drunkenly stumbled through a discordant rehash of the obligatory anthem Happy Birthday for bar regular Cindy Staples Friday night.

“Thanks you guys”, the 39-year-old single mother of two managed to stammer afterwards, as a single tear formed, more a result of four Jose Cuervo shots and three Bud Light Lime beers than a sincere display of emotion.

“You guys are awesome.  Really”, she continued, steadying herself as she struggled to maintain her balance against a pillar adorned with Dollar Tree holiday lights, a happy hour specials menu, and a Michelob Ultra advertisement.  “You’re like… totally awesome”.

“At least I didn’t have to hear the cornball ‘and many more’ this time”, grumbled bartender and owner Mitch McCleary as he wiped down the bar before the revelers returned like pigs to a trough.  “And no one tried to spank her, so there’s that”, he continued, flipping the TV behind the bar to a boxing match.  “Usually somebody wants to smack some ass”, he added, his voice fading to a whisper.

Staples then proceeded to hug all the other attendees, including an obviously off-put woman who’d never so much as laid eyes on the birthday girl and was simply returning from using the ladies room.

“She’s this trashed for her thirty-ninth?  I shudder to think what she’ll be like next year”, the woman uttered, shaking her head and pulling from Cindy’s drunken embrace.

At press time, it was reported that Staples and several other patrons had been seemingly launched onto their feet, hands sky-rocketing upward, their voices conjoined in a staccato “oh, oh, OHHH!” as the opening strains of This Is How We Do It blared from the stereo.

Country Music Song Lyric Generator

Say what you will about country music.  No, really, go ahead.  I’ll wait.  Okay, that said, some have suggested that country music lyrics are simplistic, interchangeable and predictable; even sophomoric.  You be the judge.  Or, don’t.  I really don’t have a dog in this fight.  In a manner of speaking.

“Sometimes you have to get a little ________ on the tires”

A.      Dirt
B.      Mud
C.      Cow droppings
D.      Buy three, get one free

“You make my heart ________”

A.      Ache
B.      Sing
C.      Soar
D.      Wish it were a less important organ, like maybe the gall bladder or spleen

“Our love is like ________”

A.      Fine wine
B.      A rainbow
C.      The morning dew
D.      Diving into a pit of broken glass

“When I first laid eyes on you, I _____”

A.      Knew you were the one
B.      Counted my blessings
C.      Thought I’d died and gone to heaven
D.      Bought a condom from the dispenser in the restroom

“If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s ______”

A.      Our love will last forever
B.      You’re the only one for me
C.      Our love was meant to be
D.      The Braves will never make it back to the World Series

“When the boys get together on a Friday night _______”

A.      Gonna be some drinking, might be a fight
B.      You know everything’s gonna be alright
C.      Gonna dance with every girl in sight
D.      There will be at least three pickup trucks in a ditch or up against a utility pole before daybreak

Well, there you go.  Play your cards right and you could be the next country music superstar.  And you can bet I’ll be looking for a cut of the royalties.

The Thursday Night Club

Many years ago, in another life, my schedule was such that my actual “weekend” was not the traditional Friday and Saturday nights, but Thursday and Friday.  Single and unencumbered, I found myself at one or another watering hole on more than a few of those nights, doing the things single and unencumbered people do.  Before long, I noticed a very discernable difference in the crowds on those particular nights.  Aside from the fact that there were typically more couples on Fridays, there was also an air of loneliness, desperation, and anticipation among the former group.  We sat, clutching our beverage, gaze fixed on some TV or other diversion, trying to blend in, a look of grit and determination our mask.  We were tweaking our game.  These were the practice laps for the big race.

There was anticipation, for anticipation held promise, fleeting and surreal though it was.

Those of us in the club differed in other ways.  We did not have the sway, the connections, that feeling of being welcome and accepted as we sashayed in.  The environment was not natural, indigenous, or becoming.  No one trumpeted our arrival.

We were not on the “A List”.

The Thursday Night Club was not an actual club at all, but more a state of mind; a state of being.  It was about appearing to leave on our own terms, having more pressing matters with which to concern ourselves.  It was driving home, thinking of unfolded laundry, and wondering if those leftover chicken fajitas were still good after four days in the refrigerator, and hoping there was something good on HBO or ESPN.

It was believing that Friday would be better.

Diary of a Mad Post-op Patient

Day 1:
Slept until 9:45.  They said this was normal, what with the anesthesia and all.  Fruit salad and toast for breakfast, then a catnap.  Stepped out onto the patio for a few minutes to get some fresh air.  Bird of some kind chirping in the distance.  What a beautiful day!

Day 2:

Slept until 10:15.  Strange, don’t feel rested at all.  Wanted corn flakes for breakfast, no milk.  Oh well.

Day 3:

Up at 6:05.  So is that damn bird.  Chirping is starting to grate on my nerves.  Started re-reading Edge of Eternity; only got to page 18.

Day 4:

Chatted with the postman for a few minutes.  Real likable guy.  Organized the spices in alphabetical order.  Spent an hour searching for nail clippers.

Day 5:

That Dr. Phil is a hoot.  (Wonder if he’s a real doctor.)  Started playing Candy Crush Soda Saga.  Not really my “cup of tea” (ha ha). Looked for that nice postman again; never showed up.

Day 6:

The bird is particularly annoying today, what with the incessant screechy monotone droning and all.  Searching amazon.com for BB gun.  Wondering if Dr. Pol is a real doctor.

Day 7:

There are 931,067 recipes for chicken marsala on the internet. Saw the postman coming up the walk and stepped out to say “hi”.  He dropped my mail at his feet and power walked to the next house, glancing nervously over his shoulder.  Strange.

Day 8:

Frantically searching Audobon.org trying to figure out what the hell kind of bird that is.  Still haven’t caught sight of it; the aggravating utterances stop as soon as I step outside.  It’s as if it can read my mind.  This isn’t funny anymore.

Day 9:

Was disheartened to learn the contestants on Price is Right have to meet certain “eligibility” requirements.  Guessing the ACLU would be interested in that little nugget.  Posting anonymous comment on their website.  Someone has to blow the lid off this.

Day 10:

I can’t be the only one who’s picked up on the little subliminal messages in the prescription drug commercials, can I?  The postman has “accidently” forgotten to deliver my mail for the third time this week.  Someone is going to get an ear full, just you wait.

Day 11:

BB gun arrived.  Set up blind on corner of patio.  Operation Bye Bye Birdie has begun.  That bird doesn’t know who he’s messing with.  Also, there are 384 pavestones on the patio, three of which are chipped.

Day 12:

Operation Bye Bye Birdie enters its second day.  Nearly soiled myself when the refrigerator compressor kicked in.  It’s quiet.  Too quiet.  Also, we have a new mail carrier. 

Day 13:

Into fourth hour of Operation Bye Bye Birdie.  Lowered my binoculars for a split second to wipe the sweat from my eyes and hear a demonic squawk and catch a glimpse of some other-worldly beast, it’s wings flapping wildly as it descends, blocking all else from my vision.  Awaken sometime after dark to find I have actually soiled myself.  I. Am. So {sniff}. Afraid.

Day 14:

The hours run together like sidewalk chalk after a midday rain.  Haven’t showered in days.  Only leave the bed to relieve myself.  Mine is a nightmarish world of thoughts which collide and careen off each other before egressing into the void…  wait.  It was a dream.  It was all JUST A DREAM!  HA HA HA!  Except…  why is there a BB gun on my nightstand?

Co-worker Brings Spinach Dip Again

Silver Spring MD – Employees of the Law Offices of Mudder, Wainwight and Washburn reported today that 26 year old unmarried and childless paralegal Tiffini Baskins has – for the third consecutive year – had the gall to bring deli spinach dip to the annual company holiday luncheon.

“I can’t believe it”, reported receptionist Carole Grossman, who was up at 5 am making from scratch and baking a chocolate and pecan chess pie.  “She just stands there hovering over it, like it’s a just hatched eaglet or something until someone has some”.

 “And she gets really moody if you don’t tell her it’s like the greatest you ever had”, added admin assistant Valerie Rush.  “I mean, she got it at Super Fresh”.

“Look, she didn’t even take the price tag off this year.”

Flanked by a box of multi-grain crackers and a bag of corn tortilla chips, the sad, afterthought of a dish appeared almost flippant among an array of delicacies including green bean casserole with brie and almonds, cheddar and bacon potato salad, and deviled eggs with paprika and garlic.

“I agonized for weeks on what to make, before deciding on the sausage balls with onion and Worchester sauce”, lamented account manager Heather Crittenden, “then Little Miss Size Six prances in here like royalty with something she scooped up from a grocery store deli on her way in this morning.” 

At press time, senior partner Harv Wainwright, married with four children and twelve years Baskins’ senior was complimenting her on her “thoughtful, heart-friendly” selection.

Ghosts of Summer

It’s this time of year - when summer surrenders its all-encompassing warmth and lingering sunsets that paint the sky with vivid hues - to autumn, with its inevitable decay of all that’s alive and green and vibrant.  But for me, it is more than a date on a calendar, or the return of children to school.  It is bidding good-bye to a friend who I know I will not see again for a long time.

And like a good friend, it becomes harder and harder each time to part ways.

If we liken the seasons to the stages of our lives, then summer would represent when we are typically at our strongest, our most robust.  We teem with energy and optimism and hope.

As my birthday is in the summer, and many of our milestones coincide with the anniversary of our birth it follows that many of my fonder memories lie in those months: getting my driver’s license, buying alcohol (legally) for the first time, officially becoming an “adult”.  By fate or happenstance, it was also during summer that I experienced many other things for the first time, most of which are best left to the reader’s imagination.

It will forever evoke memories, of late, late evenings which last until the morning dew arrives, to warm, embracing breezes and ocean waves which swell and crash onto sandy beaches.  Of wispy clothing, lightweight and easily donned and shed.  Of early Seventies hard rock music emanating from an 8-track tape player, and skinny-dipping, and lying on blankets in an open field with a cacophony of crickets in the distance.  There was a feeling of security, as if summer would wrap you in an ethereal blanket of warmth.

And now it’s gone.

For me, summer giving way to autumn is like the barkeep that comes over and somberly tells you it’s “last call” and you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay there.  But there’s nowhere else you want to go. 

 
Except back to summer.

America the Distracted

Okay, so I was thinking, there’s this… wait, that’s my phone.  Okay, my team’s up two nothing in the first, good.  But anyway, I was- the door.  Who’s at the door?  Oh no, it’s the Lawn Rangers again.  How many times do you have to shout obscenities in Mandarin out the window before they get the message?  I’ll just duck in here until they’re… Dang, my phone again.  Oh, it’s just a video of a Panda playing a banjo.

Where was I?

Here’s the thing: Is it just me, or have we lost like 75% of our attention span?  I mean, you can’t even have a conversation without the other person donning that faraway gaze two minutes in.  My last attempt went something like this:

Me:  Hey, what’s up?

Them:  Nuthin.

Me:  Nothing huh?

Them:  Yep.

Me:  Really? Nothing at all?

Them:  Have you seen that video of that Panda playing a banjo?

I can’t remember the last time I saw anyone focus on anything for more than a few minutes, unless it was binge-watching the latest flavor-of-the-week Netflix release, or immersed in some video game.  Engage in conversation? Pooh-pooh the thought.  Having a barbeque?  Better collect the phones at the door.  Trying to organize a neighborhood clean-up day at the local park?  Good luck with that.  Unless there’s Wi-Fi.

No, we have – through conditioning, apathy, or some combination of the two – pretty much lost our ability to think about one thing for more than fifteen minutes, twenty tops.  Yet we are captivated by the most trivial, inane, and immaterial of shiny objects; it’s like junk food for the brain. 

A series of tornados tears through the Midwest sucking a few hundred people – and a handful of tractors - up into the vortex, but that’s soon forgotten when some reality show chucklehead tearfully reveals she was forced to eat lima beans as a child.  Life-changing events are occurring all around us, often right on our doorstep, but social media is abuzz over a couple of celebrity’s Twitter feud.

Some have suggested that we’re being manipulated into focusing on some things, to distract us from others.  And, they’re probably right - to some degree.  But, we can only ascribe so much blame to others when we are ultimately responsible for the choices we make in where to invest our time, energy, and emotions.

So, that’s it.  In closing, I’d just like to say- WHOA! A METAPOD JUST SPAWNED LIKE 600 YARDS FROM HERE!  Gotta run!

 

Stay focused out there.

How to be That Guy (or Gal)

If you know at least as many people as there are flavors of TCBY yogurt, there’s a good chance you know “that guy” (or gal).  You likely grimace audibly upon their arrival, and sigh in relief as they leave.  But, maybe – just maybe - you’ve wondered what it would be like to take a walk on the wild side and become one of them.  If so, I have some tips which may come in handy:

Don’t ever put your phone down

Whether at the drive-thru at Whammy Burger, or about to give the Best Man speech at your college buddy’s wedding, you make sure that phone is slapped upside your big, goofy head - or your nose is buried in it.  People giving you that irritated look?  Too bad.  Exaggerated throat-clearing from every direction?  Ignore it.  Don’t you put that phone down for anything short of a good tasering.

Get louder with every drink

Out for a few brews with the guys?  Well you grab that volume control and yank it clockwise with every round, until by evening’s end you’re louder than an Orca whale with a toothache slamming head-first into a jetty during mating season.

Know everything about everything

No matter the topic, you’ve been there, done that, and bought the proverbial t-shirt.  Friend having potty-training issues with her youngest?  You look her right in the eye and let her know in no uncertain terms, she’s doing it all wrong.  Co-worker planning a camping trip?  Well you make indubitably sure everyone knows you wrote the book on camping.  From the best insect repellent to the correct way to pitch a tent on a slope, you are The King of Camping.

Be habitually late

Look, no one actually expects you to be on time anyway.  So you show up at 10:47 when you were supposed to be there at 9?  Nothing says “my time is valuable, yours not so much” like being a few minutes late.  Or an hour.  Or two.

Tell the same anecdotes repeatedly

If you’re not absolutely positive everyone within earshot has heard about you rolling your Volkswagen Golf during Spring Break, you relate the experience in excruciating detail, with particular emphasis on the sensation of being inverted, and how you required 16 stitches on your left forearm.  And how you still have the rear-view mirror in a drawer somewhere.  Or maybe it’s in a closet.

Write pompous “how to” articles

Insert slow clap emoticon here.