A great deal of traffic this week on folks reflecting what the Christmas Season means to them. Heavy emphasis on “memories of past holidays” and how it all seems to stick with them, over the years, and never goes away. This is just that type of story, and at Christmas time in the Heartland.
Yesterday, weather was good, so we made a Bacon Run to China-World. Great deal of traffic on the Super Slab, the low prices on gasoline has started to show up as a plus for the consumer. They can actually afford to go somewhere now.
I saw this at China-World and thought it would be a good deal, so we bought a package and brought it home, I really cannot remember what the price of the item was. Continue reading
As we were leaving the first or second mall, Cup Cake looks down and she abruptly pulls me up (sort of like reigning in an old horse or a mule) and says, “Your shoe lace is untied.”
So I look down, and low and behold it is, I dutifully drop to one knee and assume the position, I proceed to put a double loop in it, and fix the errant troublemaker so that I will no longer have this problem.
Having completed my temporary stop for repairs, I start to rise, and she gently places her hand on my shoulder, and pushes down firmly and I look up, “What the —— now?“
She says, rather sternly as if she is talking to a small child, “Now do the other one.“ Which to a man is stoooooopid, why do you have to do the other one, if the other one is okay, and it was.
But doing some quick thinking I remember that I have been here before, and a “wise man never wakes his second sleeping baby just to see it smile.“ So I tie the other shoe, or rather, untie the other shoe, and then re-tie the other shoe. (You following all this?)
While I am in this position, feeling the familiar pangs of insanity coursing thru my brain, I look up at her, and I say “Darling, will you marry me here, right now at the Mall!”
And she giggles, at the same time, an elderly couple who are walking by and overhear my capricious statement and they stop.
The wife she smiles real big and kind of laughs and the husband offers up, “I am a preacher son, I can marry you right now on the spot!“ So I say to him, “For real? You are an honest to goodness preacher, for real?” and again he replies in the affirmative.
I quickly get up from my bent one knee position and say, “Thanks for the offer Padre, but that is where all my problems began to start with!“
Four malls later, one trip to the Food Court for a round of give it to me quick and make it really greasy, we come home, sans jacket.
She however has found this stainless steel, pressure cooker thingy for the kitchen, or at least I think it is for the kitchen. All I know it is not my color and it will not fit on the dog, so it must be for the kitchen?
One last thing and then I will leave all of you alone.
I didn’t find the jacket, but I still got the girl, and that is all that really matters. Instead of distracting yourself with thoughts of what or who would be better in your life, see if you can find a way to make the relationship you’re already in as good as it can be.
Happily married couples know that regardless of what happens in life, yesterday, last month, a couple of years ago or what might happen today, tomorrow, or next year — That Now — is the only place where happiness can actually be found and experienced.
Have not vented in awhile, so I am going to blow off some steam. By the way, “this post contains no literary value or socially redeeming information whatsoever. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead … most likely was on purpose.” (Lawyers said I might want to put that in there)
Here is what I am tired of:
I am tired of this “what do you want it for?” when I go to buy something. Why is it the salesperson selling this item feels that he/she “needs to know” what I am going to use it for or where I am going to apply it in my everyday life. Just sell it to me. One more (we’re headed for a bonus round Alex) this reply of “No, what you really NEED is this” (instead of what I asked for) … Beam me up Scotty, no intelligent life here, even if it is a “best buy.”
I am tired of needing a couple of these and when I go to the store, or outlet, only to discover there is only “ONE” of them for sale. What is going on with that? You need a pair of something and you find only one. Think about it … “Who buys only ONE loading ramp?” … Hell’s Angels?
I am tired of having to buy a dozen dry-cell batteries, when the device I use, only requires four. Why do I have to purchase all the others, that never seem to get used, and when it is time for new ones, these “spares” are now dead and useless.
I am tired of bad Hollywood movies about high-school where all the girls are clearly well-endowed, wearing low-cut, showing a lot of cleavage dresswear and are a bit of a hooker type image in a progressive school and they are the main character. The only girls I knew in high-school that fit this profile were (A) Robbing their big brothers sock drawer. (B) Using a lot of tissue paper. (C) The captain of the shot-putt team.
I am tired of sitting waiting on a stop light, when there is nothing coming in either direction, especially at $3.50 per gallon. Have you noticed that since it got above $3.50 that there is no more talk of: Offshore drilling, our dependence on other countries for our energy needs, solar power, wind power, the green initiative, shortages or shortfalls?
I am tired of television commercials where the respondents have the I.Q. of say, room temperature. It is insulting to all of us, and I wish they would stop … because I will never purchase anything that advertises in a stupid fashion (New and Improved dog food? Don’t squeeze the Charmin. Bob is really happy! The government wants to give you free money to name a few).
I am REALLY tired of politicians telling me that they are going to give me the leadership that I not only want … but I deserve. Which is neither.
I am tired of folks taking multiple cellphone calls in the cafe/restaurant while I am eating lunch and discussing the “size of their blind dates assets” on Saturday night, or what they can legally do about the baby sitter getting into their stash and going thru their clothes closets.
I am tired of teenager’s who walk around the mall in their droopy snoop-dawg underwear, wearing their ball-caps sideways (the bill goes to the front Nimrod) and sing while wearing IPODS … which really sounds bad. IPODs should have a warning label, much like a pack of cigarettes. It would read: “Caution, singing with headphones or earphones on, will not make you sound better to the general public at large.”
I am tired of neighbor’s who take up the entire aisle at WalMart with their shopping carts visiting when I need to get to the Oreos. People who get in the fast lane (20 items or less) with a cart stuffed tighter than a weight watchers pair of shorts.
I am really tired of the old geezer’s who are happy because they can go fifty miles without stopping for a bathroom break. And the two romantic bozo’s who sit in the matching bathtubs at the seashore, at sunset, holding hands, and living a richer more productive sex life? Give me a break. By the way, did you know the telephone was invented 74 years after the bathtub? Yeah, no poopy. You could have soaked for a long time, without the phone ringing, just think about that one for a bit.
I am really tired of medicine that has the following: Dizziness, dryness of throat, dry cough, sleep disruption, nausea, and explosive diarrhea … Why can’t they put some Imodium ID in this stuff when they are mixing it up to begin with and put a stop to that last one.
I am tired of “Did you find everything you were looking for?” and when you reply, “No. Where are the ______ ?” and then they say something like … “Okay.”
I am tired of standing in line at the bank waiting on a teller, when there are ten windows, but only TWO girls working the counter. I am tired of viewing a commercial and the the NEXT commercial is the SAME commercial … I got it the first time.
I am tired of the right lane being shut-down in 1,500 feet for no apparent reason.
And lastly … before I lift off and head for my own planet
I am tired of cheap phones that do not work, and then being required to sign a two year agreement in order to get another cheap phone that does not work, when I have been a good, loyal, valid and documented always paying on time customer, for over ten years.
I guess that would just about cover it … Unless of course …. Something else pop’s up, we will keep you advised. I am headed out to watch some Charlie’s Angels … Hang loose.
Has anyone seen this video floating around where the kids are purchasing groceries for complete strangers? This has been going around for a week or two. It is so refreshing to see young people doing good works, soothes my soul, gives me a warm fuzzy.
Evidently WalMart has updated its policies on charity giving and such. Not long ago a friend told me that a guy had went into a ChinaMart and bought some pre-paid gift cards and was standing in the doorway of the store handing them out to people and wishing them a “Merry Christmas.”
Which it was, until security showed up and demanded that he stop the practice. Now this is kind of lousy, he did after all purchase THEIR CARDS in order to fulfill his holiday destiny. But ChinaMart was having none of it … they stopped him dead in the water.
So the Holiday-Do-Gooder went to Target as the story goes, told them of his problem, asked them if they would replace the ChinaMart gift cards with theirs, and allow him to do this good work in their store.
They readily agreed, took all of the left over ChinaMart cards and redeemed them for full face value, and then issued the guy new TARGET GIFT CARDS and made available for him a space to do his thing. God Bless Target … A lump of coal and a steady supply of raspberries for ChinaMart if this anti-holiday policy is still in effect.
Here is one more we will throw out on the porch and see if the cat will lick it up.
You want to greet me with Merry Christmas, that is just fine. I am not going to be all touchy about it. If you are hassling your employees about this practice, then you should be ashamed of yourself.
As for me, I don’t do the gift card thing.
Americans already have too much stuff, they don’t need any more cheap trash from you know where. We will find an older couple (most likely several of them) in an eatery and we will pick up their tickets and buy them lunch/breakfast.
At this point you are tiring of the diatribe, so I will close with this: “I don’t need a Brown Thursday, Black Friday or Super Saver Saturday” to make it thru the week, and neither do you.
That is all I got, see you, tah-tah tootle-loo.
It was bound to happen, just a matter of time. My bride walked into the room and unceremoniously announced to no one in particular, “Take me shopping.” So we loaded up in the old truck and drove the six miles to town. She wanted to go to Kohl’s a department store in Yukon, Oklahoma. After parking the truck we walked a short distance to the store, upon entering the store, immediately, she spots a garment (a blouse) hanging on a garment rack.
She walks over to it, feels of it, strokes it, appraises it from every angle, and then looks at me and says, “Whadya think. Its 50% off.” I look at it, it is nice, sheer, almost transparent the tag reads, $17.99 marked down from $36.00. It is kind of blue and green in color, and as I said you can see right thru it, very much MY kind of blouse.
I say to her, “I dunno?” and kind of shrug my shoulders.
We move on, you see I know that I am here to drive the truck, my appraisal or value placed on any item in that store, means nothing. I am now taken to the pots and pans, the stainless steel items that shine in the artificial sunshine of the store, with their clear lexan tops and bright polish. We look at several, again, picking up a cookie pan that will produce almost magically 24 cup cakes, she says to me, “What do you think?” as if my input or opinion really mattered.
I again, “shrug my shoulders and silently wish that I had begged off back at the house when asked to volunteer for this mission.”
Things go well for the next ten minutes or so, and I make it all the way thru housewares without incident. I am now in bath towels and fluffy stuff. Then I see them. Flashlights!
All manner of flashlights, on a rack, silver ones, red ones, blue Flashlights. They are everywhere, so somewhat like a drunken sailor I saunter over to them and I feel them. I admire them. They have little buttons on them and the sign says …. “Try me.”
I look up and all of a sudden, she is nowhere to be seen, I am alone, just me and the Flashlights.
The Christmas muzak blares from the overhead speakers and I am magically transported to another time and another place. Having left my cellphone home on the counter, there is no way I can locate her, and I am certainly not going to go on a search and rescue mission in a department store.
Slowly I gravitate towards the front of the store, the main entrance, and assume a position at the perfume counter. Shifting one side of my body weight to the left shoe, I assume my position, by leaning back slowly into the counter and I check my watch.
The edge of the counter top starts to dig into my back, I shift my weight but another time, and I wonder how long it will be before I hook up with my little parsimonious shopper.
My mind slowly wanders off … Little beads of sweat form on my forehead and they roll down my cheeks and drop onto the Army Green container on the floor. I take my trusty pocket tool, the red one, with the toothpick inside, and gingerly start to loosen one screw on the case, it breaks loose slowly and I feel it give way. The red LED clock slowly clicks downward a second at a time. I must get the access door off, and find a way to the inner core, to the explosive element that ignites the nuclear mass of the bomb itself or the weapon will explode, and all of mankind for five square miles will be toast. The door slowly prys open with final screw and the main access panel is there, with all the wiring intact, which I by-pass and instead, go for the igniter of the weapon itself. The Red LED clock is now getting insanely close to running out, and I am frantic.
I silently wish that I had a flashlight and curse under my breath ….
Then her voices breaks the silence, “Here you are. Are you ready?” I nod my head and she says, “I didn’t find nuthin’ you want to go get some Mexican food?” Like a blind man, she takes my arm and starts to lead me toward the exit of the store. “You didn’t find anything you liked either?”
Again, “I nod my head” and we start out for the front doors.
She again stops at the garment rack, and fingers the blouse, I can tell she really wants the blouse. She pauses a little bit and then says. “Let’s go.” I say “Wait here and I will go get the truck, you won’t have to walk in the cold.” On the way out to the parking lot the north wind takes a sharp bite out of the corner of my eye, and sends a shiver up my spine. I get in the truck and I think to myself, “She never gets it?”
You see I might be sixty-five years old, but my LIbido is still very much in place. I am a man, very much so, and thus, I am stimulated not by emotional things, but by visual items. All she had to do was look at me with those big brown eyes, eyes a guy could get lost in, smile and say, “If you buy me this, I will model it for you without my bra.”
I would have bought it in a Hong Kong second …. Fifty-percent off or not.
Connie is standing there in the aisle of the supermarket, she looks a little frazzled and tired. “How you doin’ neighbor?” I say to her, and she half-way smiles. Noticing that something is visibly wrong, I say to her … “What is up, you look a little bit down in the mount.”
“Oh, I am sorry.” It is Chuck and the kids. “Y’know sometimes they just run me a little bit ragged.” It all started on Saturday, the six year old, Shellie, she wanted to play “dress up.” So she got her three year old brother Brad to join her, and they were having a high old time together.
Every now and then, she would pull him into the kitchen to show him off and beg another box of juice. It was all quite innocent, and so charming. She had him put on several dresses, and she was adding makeup to him and all, it was all harmless fun. Just two little kids doing their thing on a Saturday afternoon.
So I asked her, “So, what is the problem?”
“Well, Shellie dressed her little brother up in a small tu-tu and some frilly little shoes” and then he prances into the living-room where Chuck was watching the NFL and announced to his Daddy that he was a ballerina!” And then the trouble began.
Which begs the question, “How was your weekend?”
Here is something from all those wonderful people who had their science projects done and turned in on time. Having never watched any sci-fi or horror movies while growing up, scientists are about to drill deep down below a frozen Antarctic lake looking for forgotten life forms. Which is kind of dumb, you want to find “forgotten life forms” just head on over to your local FaceBook page or MyFamily.com
After 16 years of meticulous planning, a team of British scientists is finally ready to journey to a remote, windswept plain in Antarctica, where they will drill deep into the ice to take the first-ever samples from a lake cut off from the sunlit world for up to 1 million years. When they get done with that, maybe they could hop a flight over to China where a river recently turned the color red. No word on the frogs, flies, leeches or why it is Campbell Tomato Soup color.
The British are a fun lot aren’t they?
I understand now that they are considering increasing the excitement level of commercial air travel. Airbus wants to make future airline flights more exciting with catapult takeoffs and steep-dive landings. What is the absolute worst thing you can hear on a commercial air flight? “This is your captain speaking … we are currently flying at an altitude of 48,000 ft, over the Grand Canyon, the outside temperature is -25, and we expect to arrive in Seattle at …. That no good lousy woman, she never loved me! I will show her!”
Here is today’s final note.
A woman has taught her bird to “cuss out her neighbor” and is in hot water because of this. But please consider this at the same time, if you can teach a bird to cuss someone out on command, why can’t we teach these bird-brains in Congress how to budget and cut back on some of this unnecessary spending.