More Random Thoughts of an Old (Weird) Geezer

Chapter 9

I Was Born Before…

No wait – I can’t do it that way. The list would be far too long. We’ll start over. Here’s what I remember having around the old farmhouse in my very young days. Electricity. Now I know that doesn’t seem like a big deal now, but from what I understand we didn’t get wired until I was about two years old. Moving on. A furnace in the basement that burned coal (heat is good), a kitchen stove that we burned cobs in (cobs - you know, the supportive plant base that holds the little kernels of corn), running water (fed by a windmill to a holding tank in the attic) an average assortment of furniture, an AM table radio, a 78rpm “record player”, a piano, a “crank” telephone (party line, “operator” enabled) and… and… OK, that was about it except for the usual stuff a small family needs to function. Indoor bathroom? Nope. TV? Had just barely been invented. Microwave… computer… DVD’s… ipods? No… no… no… and of course, no. No Internet, no cell phones… none of the goodies that we now find in the average home – and pretty much take for granted. So how did we survive? Just fine, thank you. We worked hard, ate well, socialized with our families, listened to the radio and music from the record player, played the piano, sang, played card or board games and generally enjoyed life. Yes, life was good.

(Please feel free to acknowledge that I did not climb up on the old soapbox to rant about how spoiled we are and that we would all probably be better off if we would pack away most of our modern gadgets and get back to a simpler, more fulfilling lifestyle. Thank you…)

A Religious Educational Note

Frisbeetarianism is the belief that when you die, your soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck. - George Carlin

Naps

I like naps. Long naps. Short naps. Medium-sized naps. Naps are a great way to recharge the old batteries. Some of my naps are intentional – leaning back in the old recliner and snoozing off. Some naps are accidental – leaning back in the old recliner to watch a bit of TV – and snoozing off. I found that accidental naps are more likely to happen soon after meals. And no, it doesn’t make any difference what or how much I’ve eaten. I will get dozy. I try not to plan on driving any distance after a meal. I’ll opt for the recliner instead. It’s become my personal safety device. I like my recliner. I like my naps. Speaking of naps, I think I’m starting to become a bit drowsbilkj;kujhkjkhdfkjgdfugoil…………………

A Short Story

A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp, "Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?"

As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his knees, so that he's on her level, and asks, "Do you want a widdle white wabby or a thoft and fuwwy bwack wabby or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabby over there?"

She, in turn blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice, "I don't fink my pet python weally gives a thit."

Well… I thought it was cute. Moving on…

Snap, Crackle & Pop

For those of you older than dirt, you’ll remember that these were the words used to describe and sell Rice Krispies. (And yeah, I’m pretty sure that name is trademarked but I’m too lazy to check and then look up the stupid “tm” symbol and insert it in its proper place at the end of “Krispies”.) In this case however, I’m not thinking so much about breakfast cereal as I am the strange noises my aging (I was about to use the word “old”, but my vanity prompted me to find a reasonably acceptable substitute) is beginning to make. So far there hasn’t been a lot going on in the snap and crackle categories, but pop has become quite active over the past few years. One elbow in particular. The right one to be specific. It doesn’t really have any set pattern – no particular movements or activities that will produce the noise. It just happens. Reaching for the beverage glass. Pop! Moving my hand to scratch my uh… nose. Pop! Reaching down to pull on my socks. Pop! Reaching and bending. Pop! Pop! I wonder what causes that. I also wonder what other strange assortment of noises this old… er… aging body will make in the coming years. That is, other than the excess bodily gases escaping from a convenient orifice. That one’s a given. Guess we’ll find out, huh?

I’ve Stopped Trying…

To do anything. I’ve learned that the word “trying” can too easily be used as a cop-out. I’ll try to get the fence fixed by tomorrow. I’ll try to make it to your party next Saturday. I’ll try to get you your money by Wednesday. I’ll try. It’s quite effective, isn’t it? When we don’t make our deadline, all we need to do is say “Well, I tried!” Right…

I’ve found instead, if I use the words “I’ll do my best…” my planned task is much more likely to get done. I’ll do my best to get the car inspected by next Tuesday. I’ll do my best to fix the screen door tomorrow. Even if things don’t work out as planned, there is a better than average chance that I actually have done my best to do what I said I would do. And the other person involved will be more likely to recognize that and flex with the situation.

One more thing. Instead of promising anything, use the words “I’ll do my best” instead. It will help to minimize hurt feelings, loud words or perhaps even bodily bruising. You might consider this approach and see how it works for you. And yeah, I know this stuff may take time to actually put into practice. Just do your best.

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