I am a bit of a worrier. A Nervous Nelly. Fretting Fanny…..fusspot…. worrywart…. chowder head. In short, I taught Chicken Little the whole deal about the sky. I come from a long, long line of worriers. My Mom is a worrier. About everything. I think my Dad might worry every now and again. He used to say things like “Safety is no accident.” and “Save your money and buy good whiskey.” The latter doesn’t have much to do with worries, but he really did say that quite a bit.
My great-great-grandfather Peter Wourms was a worrier. He worried about the crops, the chickens, the weather, the horses, and numerous other things. He constantly fretted over whether or not he was pronouncing words correctly, like “Dalmatian” and “Lederhosen” (He was a German Immigrant so the Lederhosen thing should have been cool. But one time he said it at Fengold’s Grocery, on a Tuesday morning, and a woman slapped him in the face.”)
Now here’s the deal. As mentioned, I can certainly worry, from time to time. Not as much as I used to…. but I DO worry. Like today I was chugging through town and looked down at me feet. Low and behold, I see this. Charles Fenaoui’s name tag. I think to myself……“Oh. I sure do hope nothing has happened to Mr. Fenaoui…….. Holy smokes. I wonder if he is all right. I mean… ……..his “Hello. My Name Is” badge is just laying there…..in the street, for crying out loud. Oh gosh. I hope he didn’t get kidnapped, or abducted by aliens, or anything like that. Oh Polly calm down. The dude is fine……… BUT what if he ISN’T?” And on and on it goes. “Okay, even if Chuck is okay, how the hell is anyone going to know who he is? He lost his gall-dang name badge.”
I Googled him. Hard to spell a guy with every stinking vowel in his last name…. which is suspicious I might add. I found Charles M Fenaoui on Facebook, but he only has 34 friends…. many of which don’t seem like they would be real people. I’m smelling trouble again, I’ll tell you…. trouble. “What if he got hit by a horse carriage and has lost his memory? He only has 34 Facebook friends, many of which are made up & none of which will be looking for him. And he’s lost his name tag! His wallet is probably gone too. Oh this is bad….. this is very, very grim. Someone should have told him that safety is no accident….. what if he was hopped up on good whiskey?……..”
(Cat occasionally glances at human with look of utter disdain.)
Human feeds Cat.
Human scoops poop.
Where in Tarnation do you begin?
In these parts, as in most, there are a lot of old places with a lot of old history. Nooks and crannies to be discovered, I think. It is like the Final Frontier in reverse. You have to dig and explore, and more often than not, just get lucky.
The other day we bumped into a neighbor on the street. He introduced us to a neighbor and then from there another neighbor. The third guy we met is somewhat of a historian. His real name is Julian but everybody calls him Vic. He is one interesting guy. Smart guy. Vic the Brilliant, I like to call him.
At any rate, he referred to our house as “The Pirate House”…. which is something we’d never heard before. We followed him back to his library where he pulled out several books with references to the “pirate” who owned our house. He then told us about the paintings and log books they found in our attic before we bought the house. One of the paintings was a Manet. Yes, Edouard Manet. Seems that painting sold for quite a bit to a private bidder in New York. Smart Vic walked us outside where we then bumped into another guy, with the Gibbes Museum. He confirmed the story. (I felt like I was in some Nicholas Cage movie, or something….)
It appears this is not a gasconade. Yet, I am planning to do more research of my own. It is a snappy good time for me. Exploring the Final Frontier, one dusty attic at a time.
Sick as a dog, today. Sick as a dog.
It is true. Matilda longed to be near Hubert. She wished he would take her in his arms and kiss her…. yes…. kiss her….passionately…. long and hard on the lips.
But Herbert had his mind on farming. There was dirt to be dug, and turnips, parsnips, and rutabaga to harvest. You see…. he had his parsnip bucket, and that was that.
Matilda’s desires would go unrequited. It would be another cold and lonely night on the root vegetable farm.
I hope your true love will turnip for Valentine’s Day.
“Laugh as much as you breathe and love as long as you live.”
Busy, busy weekend. We walked a lot. Miles and miles. There are many things so incredibly great about walking everywhere, but perhaps, the very best of it….. is what you get to see while you are in pedestrian-mode. For instance, some things we saw: lots of crazy-good dogs, including two little Westy puppies; numerous hot dogs stands… all purporting to sell the city’s best wieners; a guy with ducky-pants on (and he was old enough to know better); a Where-In-The-World’s-Waldo Guinness Book of World Record Contest… gone terribly bad; lots of grave markers; and on and on.
But perhaps the most interesting, or thought-provoking sight of the weekend: We think we saw a hooker. What were the identifiers?! She was on the arm of a man at least twice her age; she was dressed a lot like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman (but she rrrrreeeeeeealllllllllllly should NOT have been dressed like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman); she had that teased-up-kind-of-hair; and a boat-load of bad makeup. Everything was WAY TOO tight. We thinks, we thinks, we thinks… she was a hooker. But who is to say for sure….and we went back and forth on the topic.
Now here’s the thing… it hit me, right there in the middle street…. that I probably have never in my life…… & WILL NEVER in my life….. be mistaken for a hooker. At least to the best of my knowledge. It made me laugh and laugh…. just the thought of someone secretly pointing at me, and finding question in my “walking of the streets”…… …….mmmmm….. ……. street SWEEPER, maybe. But not the hook.
(To the morning readers: Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope you find love in all the right places.)
Tonight I am watching Gone With The Wind. All 4 hours of it.
There’s a dang Intermission in the movie. I forgot about that…… that movies used to have Intermissions…. especially the 240 minute variety.
At any rate, Scarlett O’hara has one stinking bad day after another in this film. I’ve seen her slap 3 people so far. Hauls off and slaps them hard in the face. And just now, she shot a man. Point blank. That’s some temper she’s got there. She ought to try decaf.
My favorite character is Mammy.
Some of those winds still blow around down here, I’ll tell you. Not gone at all.
(P.S. It’s all connected. Every stitch of this world. Tara spelled backward is…..)
Today is a birthday coincidence phenomenon if I’ve ever, ever seen one. This, my friends, is Thomas Alva Edison’s birthday (1847), the brilliant inventor of such things as the phonograph, the telegraph, the electric lightbulb, and on and on. The dude has more than 1900 patents overall. Unfortunately, Edison had some failures too…. like the Edison Portland Cement Company, in which he wanted to make everything, from cabinets to pianos to houses, out of cement. The idea crumbled. One of his earliest inventions was the Ginger Press. Unfortunately, not everyone had the same appreciation for ginger as Tommy did… a huge flop and a bit of an embarrassment for the entire Edison family, needless to say.
OK……first coincidence….. today is Tina Louise’s birthday too (1934). She played Ginger on Gilligan’s Island. (Remember Edison had the failed GINGER Press?) On that very island…… was Ginger’s best friend…. who’s name was Mary Ann. (Another kicker, Edison’s his first wife’s name was Mary Ann….. and HE was a Professor!!!) Next thing I might dig up is that he once went on a 3 hour boat ride… with Jimmy Hoffa or something.
And…. today is also R&B singer “Brandy’s” birthday (1979). Of course, one of her biggest hits was “I Can Feel The Electricity” (obvious Edison connection) AND “Alone On This Island” (Tina Louise connection). Da-da-da-duuuuuuuuhhhhnnnnnnn….. and both Thomas and Tina DRANK Brandy from time to time! Holy Crap-er-roonies! What kind of sensational coincidence is this???
And now…. the biggie. This is also Sarah Palin’s birthday. First connection… she is definitely a shipwreck waiting to happen. Second…. the lights are on, but nobody’s home. Third…. I’m pretty sure she’s hopped up on Brandy most of the time.
Final coincidence. People think I live on Edison Road, which I do not. I loved Gilligan’s Island. I had a cat named Brandy. I think Sarah Palin has cement for brains.
Shake it baby. Shake it.
A recent study shows that too much salt in your diet can result in higher levels of sodium and blah, blah, blah, blllloooey, blay, blah, blub……blah, blah. The Salt Police.
Well here’s the deal. I’ve been doing some studying of my own. I have found that people who conduct studies seem to have too much money and way too much time on their hands. The findings seem to be factitious and fickle. “Recent Studies” have told us that we shouldn’t each chocolate, then we should. Wait, just dark chocolate. Coffee’s no good for you either. Well, now it is. Now it’s not. Now it is. How about wine drinkers? Now you can have it. Now you can’t. Hang on….. just the Red Wine. Hmmmm…. now we think the White is okey-dokey. There’s more dang volleying going on in these studies than at Wimbledon in June.
Carbs are under the gun recently. Well, I like my white pasty food with lots of salt on it. That’s what MY study shows. Frankly, I am tired of these studies. There was one recently that reported “wearing deodorant will increase your risk for Alzheimer’s Disease.” Then do you know what happened? For about a year, a lot of people had stupendous body odor, and seemed to be forgetting as much as ever. Thankfully, a new study came out saying, that in fact, deodorant has no direct correlation with anything except preventing stinky pits. Thank you Study People.
We have become slaves to these studies. I say study amongst yourselves. That is my piece of wisdom for tonight. Go forth and study………… eat your red meat if you like it, your ketchup with the high fructose corn syrup, and even a hot fudge sundae now and again. Exercise 5 to 6 times a week for 30 minutes a day…… or don’t. We all know what we are supposed to do, in our heart of hearts. I think……..we are supposed to make the world a better place……that is what my study has shown, I think.
But it will go on and on. I just Googled Recent Study and here was one of the top hits: I am NOT making this up:
Mouse Study Suggests New Clues to Celiac Disease
Retinoic acid might spur digestive disorder in those with genetic susceptibility
Who the hell knew?
I don’t know what Retinoic Acid is…. but I MISS IT dearly…………………… already.
Everybody loves Mickey Mouse. Most everyone I know at least. I like the little fella’ too. But people aren’t so crazy about rats. Take Ralph Rat here.
I found him dead. Dead as a doornail. Stiff as a board. Heart attack? Car accident? Old age. I thhhhhiiiinnnnnnnnkkkkkkkkkk nnnnnaaahhhhhtttttttttt…….
No. This rat died of suspicious causes. For one, Ralph was in great shape. He cut cheese out of his diet years ago, and was running on the wheel everyday. No heart attack. And…. because he was so fit, Ralph walked everywhere he went. That rules out car crash. To continue…….Certainly NOT old age. He was only .2 years old. That’s 25 in human years. So how, exactly, did old Ralph kick the can?
I think it was poison. Yes. Poison. Near the body was a cupcake with blue sprinkles. I think we all might suspect what those blue sprinkles were. Rid-O-Rat is blue pellet-ish. Yessssirrreeee. This is sad indeed. Ralph had a wife and 64 kids back at the hole. He had a great job down at the maze. Now the trouble lies with finding the perpetrator of this crime. The “perp” as we say in the crime fighting business…..
….. and I smell a rat… or mean-spirited Baker with a grudge.