My sister, bless her heart, is a very understanding woman. She and some friends have started a ministry for mothers and a friend and I were picking up supplies for it. I'd asked what they could use and one of the items was sippy cups. Hey, not a problem. That's what brothers are for.
So we go to Wal Mart, get a few things, and being a bachelor who knows nothing about this stuff, I call Sis. The problem is, I ask her about spit cups.
Now, she was with a bunch of her friends at bunco. Great opportunity to roll her eyes and say, "Guess what he just said!" She didn't. (Thank you, Sis.) She knew it was a guy thing.
Two weeks later--we're getting supplies for the ministry again--and yes, I did it again.
Now, before you tell me I need to quit dipping--I don't. This is merely a guy thing. There is a huge difference between men and guys. If you don't understand what I am talking about, you need to read Dave Barry's Guide to Guys. Women may not agree with it, but it will allow them to understand us. A perfect example Barry gives is of four men who er, had a touch too much to drink one evening. So for some fun, they decided to go off a ski ramp. At night. In a canoe. Yes, a canoe. All they got were a few scrapes.
I know. Sounds ludicrous, doesn't it? The women I tell that story shake their heads. The vast majority of the men widen their eyes and say, "Cool." ( I think I've given them an idea.") I then tell people the rest of what Barry wrote: "The moment they pushed off--They were guys." The women get ill, the vast majority of the men go "Yeah!," pumping their fist.
So . . . I'll continue to buy babies spit cups, slouch, have my Dew in the morning, put BBQ sauce on my scrambled eggs, think John Wayne's the best, and the Western is the only type film out there.
Sue me. It's a guy thing.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
It Ain't The Same Anymore
There was a time, and those who went to grade, junior, and high school will testify to this---this was my time of year.
"Son, the house is on fire!"
"Just a minute, Mom. It's the bottom of the sixth and the bases are loaded."
Yes, I was quite a baseball addict, especially when it came to the playoffs and World Series. I even was fortunate to go to two games of the Series in 1985.
But something changed. Perhaps I did. I dunno. I know for a fact baseball did. The playoffs are now longer than "War and Remembrance" in order to bring in more television revenue, and they're actually talking about lengthening them again. In short, what they are saying is this: "Okay, we're already letting a second-place team a la the wild card into the playoffs. Let's do it again." What they are really saying is it doesn't matter if you get first place or not.
Look at the bats they use. My stars. They shatter like the glass in a shop that has a bull running through it. Why? They're light, as everyone wants a quick swing. Go to the Louisville Slugger Museum and see the bats the great hitters used. They aren't the toothpicks they players use today. It should make today's hitters ashamed of themselves. Most batters today use a bat in the low thirties weight. Babe Ruth's bat weighed 54 ozs. It didn't seem to hurt his hitting.
Yesteryear's players also played in flannel uniforms. Enos Slaughter wrote of losing nine lbs in a doubleheader. I cannot even fathom today's players attempting to do this.
They played through their aches and pains. Carl Erksine popped his shoulder his first major league game and never said a word, not wanting to lose his job. He pitched in pain his entire career, throwing two no-hitters along the way. Lou Gehrig broke every finger in his hand during his streak.
Today's players would be on the disabled list.
Now it's labor unions, and are they on steroids. I miss the days when the worse argument was a ball or strike or artificial turf or grass.
The players are fun to watch, but the innocence has been lost.
It just ain't the same.
"Son, the house is on fire!"
"Just a minute, Mom. It's the bottom of the sixth and the bases are loaded."
Yes, I was quite a baseball addict, especially when it came to the playoffs and World Series. I even was fortunate to go to two games of the Series in 1985.
But something changed. Perhaps I did. I dunno. I know for a fact baseball did. The playoffs are now longer than "War and Remembrance" in order to bring in more television revenue, and they're actually talking about lengthening them again. In short, what they are saying is this: "Okay, we're already letting a second-place team a la the wild card into the playoffs. Let's do it again." What they are really saying is it doesn't matter if you get first place or not.
Look at the bats they use. My stars. They shatter like the glass in a shop that has a bull running through it. Why? They're light, as everyone wants a quick swing. Go to the Louisville Slugger Museum and see the bats the great hitters used. They aren't the toothpicks they players use today. It should make today's hitters ashamed of themselves. Most batters today use a bat in the low thirties weight. Babe Ruth's bat weighed 54 ozs. It didn't seem to hurt his hitting.
Yesteryear's players also played in flannel uniforms. Enos Slaughter wrote of losing nine lbs in a doubleheader. I cannot even fathom today's players attempting to do this.
They played through their aches and pains. Carl Erksine popped his shoulder his first major league game and never said a word, not wanting to lose his job. He pitched in pain his entire career, throwing two no-hitters along the way. Lou Gehrig broke every finger in his hand during his streak.
Today's players would be on the disabled list.
Now it's labor unions, and are they on steroids. I miss the days when the worse argument was a ball or strike or artificial turf or grass.
The players are fun to watch, but the innocence has been lost.
It just ain't the same.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Mr. Rogers Was Right
I love getting up early, seeing the moon still shining and the stars twinkling high in the sky. Cricket wonders why I rise so durned early, but she lives with it. We look out the window to see if the deer are here, and if they are treat ourselves to a majestic view.
Mr. Rogers was right. It is a beautiful day in the neighborhood, and I for one intend on enjoying it to the fullest. We feed the deer and other animals, letting them know our property is a sanctuary. I view the sky at night, grateful I can still see the stars, knowing in town it's an impossibility.
Mr. Rogers was someone we always made fun of, but he taught kids to accent the positive and eliminate the negative. In today's day and age, that is the opposite of what we think, and he wouldn't be as popular as he was. Yet he influenced several generations of children to the point his show ran for years after his passing.
We need Mr. Rogers once again. His positive attitude and his teachings--They were simplistic, not beating the children over the head, merely making a point and going on.
And maybe we adults need to watch the show as well.
 |
| Fred Rogers |
Mr. Rogers was someone we always made fun of, but he taught kids to accent the positive and eliminate the negative. In today's day and age, that is the opposite of what we think, and he wouldn't be as popular as he was. Yet he influenced several generations of children to the point his show ran for years after his passing.
We need Mr. Rogers once again. His positive attitude and his teachings--They were simplistic, not beating the children over the head, merely making a point and going on.
And maybe we adults need to watch the show as well.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
The Sound of Silence
As you may know, I live with my parents, which can be a sometimes interesting situation for a forty-seven-year-old slob like me.
Currently they're out of town, and I have to admit, it's strange:
*No pasta dishes
*No vegetables
*I don't have to leave the toilet seat down
*The phone isn't ringing as much. (I finally told one solicitor to call back in a few weeks.)
*No political talk around the house
*I'm not being chided about my horrendous posture
You know what? I miss them.
Currently they're out of town, and I have to admit, it's strange:
*No pasta dishes
*No vegetables
*I don't have to leave the toilet seat down
*The phone isn't ringing as much. (I finally told one solicitor to call back in a few weeks.)
*No political talk around the house
*I'm not being chided about my horrendous posture
You know what? I miss them.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
It's Not Always Easy
Cliff Robertson passed away this weekend. He was best known for his acting, most particularly his Oscar-winning performance in Charly. What Robertson should be remembered most fondly for is his stand against corruption, and how it cost him.
In 1977, Robertson was notified by the IRS he hadn't filed on $10,000 paid to him by Columbia Pictures. The actor had no idea what they were talking about, and learned David Begelman, the studio head, wrote a check to Robertson, then forged his name. It was learned he eventually had done this with other people to the tune of $65,000. Robertson was the only one who took action, and Begelman was sentenced to community service and a $5,000 fine. He would eventually lose him job, but take over MGM.
Robertson, who had been warned not to make this public, didn't work in Hollywood for four years. Throughout all this, the friends who had told him, "Cliff, if you ever need anything, call me," refused to take his calls. When he was finally hired again, he was never again a leading man. Whenever he was in a film, the billing would be "and Cliff Robertson" or "with Cliff Robertson." The thing is, everyone would say they knew he had been right, but-- and never finished their sentence.
MGM didn't fare well under Begelman, who eventually went bankrupt. His contract wasn't renewed, and he committed suicide in his hotel room.
Actor/writer Chris Lemmon is Robertson's stepson, and he wrote of what a fine man he was. He said that Robertson was always there for him, and he remembered that more than the man's acting ability. Robertson's stand was a perfect example of what an outstanding man he was.
He knew the consequences he was facing when he made his stand, yet he made it. Yet to this day, he's remembered not only for being a fine actor, but for someone who was wronged by Hollywood. On the other hand, Begelman has gone down in history as a thief and blackmailer (That's another story.).
Things might have been harder for him for doing things honestly, but I think I would have rather been Cliff Robertson than the 'successful' David Begelman any day of the week. At least Robertson could look himself in the mirror with pride, and gave us an example to follow.
We need to remember that example every day, and follow the Robertsons of the world, not the Begelmans. It's harder to follow the first, but the end consequences of the latter aren't worth it.
Mizpah
In 1977, Robertson was notified by the IRS he hadn't filed on $10,000 paid to him by Columbia Pictures. The actor had no idea what they were talking about, and learned David Begelman, the studio head, wrote a check to Robertson, then forged his name. It was learned he eventually had done this with other people to the tune of $65,000. Robertson was the only one who took action, and Begelman was sentenced to community service and a $5,000 fine. He would eventually lose him job, but take over MGM.
 |
| Cliff Robertson |
Robertson, who had been warned not to make this public, didn't work in Hollywood for four years. Throughout all this, the friends who had told him, "Cliff, if you ever need anything, call me," refused to take his calls. When he was finally hired again, he was never again a leading man. Whenever he was in a film, the billing would be "and Cliff Robertson" or "with Cliff Robertson." The thing is, everyone would say they knew he had been right, but-- and never finished their sentence.
MGM didn't fare well under Begelman, who eventually went bankrupt. His contract wasn't renewed, and he committed suicide in his hotel room.
Actor/writer Chris Lemmon is Robertson's stepson, and he wrote of what a fine man he was. He said that Robertson was always there for him, and he remembered that more than the man's acting ability. Robertson's stand was a perfect example of what an outstanding man he was.
He knew the consequences he was facing when he made his stand, yet he made it. Yet to this day, he's remembered not only for being a fine actor, but for someone who was wronged by Hollywood. On the other hand, Begelman has gone down in history as a thief and blackmailer (That's another story.).
Things might have been harder for him for doing things honestly, but I think I would have rather been Cliff Robertson than the 'successful' David Begelman any day of the week. At least Robertson could look himself in the mirror with pride, and gave us an example to follow.
We need to remember that example every day, and follow the Robertsons of the world, not the Begelmans. It's harder to follow the first, but the end consequences of the latter aren't worth it.
Mizpah
Thursday, September 8, 2011
If Only . . .
When I was a kid, Bill Bixby starred in a series entitled 'The Courtship of Eddie's Father,' based on the Glenn Ford movie. The theme song went, "People, let me tell you `bout my best friend . . ."
Well, that's what I'm going to do this morning. Some of you are going to roll your eyes, and as a matter of fact, you're going to quit reading about now, but I have a reason for this, so be patient with me.
My cat Cricket's my pal, and I know . . everyone says it's supposed to be a dog. But Cricket likes to prance after me wherever I go. She lets me know at 9 in the evening it's bedtime -- - even if I'm not sleepy. If my insomnia awakens me, she'll get up with me, then tap me on the back at 5 to let me know it's her feeding time. (I get up around then.)
Of course, if I sleep past 5, she lets me know when it's time to get up. I've been boxed, bitten on the toe, jumped on, walked on (her favorite), and meowed in the face quite pitifully. In short, I never have to set the alarm.
When I work on my writing, I do it by hand. She lets me know a lap is a terrible thing to waste, and it makes writing that much harder, but you know what? It also is that much more enjoyable, as I'm doing it with my best friend.
My mother's dog - - whom Cricket and I consider to be our adversary- - is every bit as loyal. (I cannot mention her name in this, as Cricket has not given me permission.) When Mom was taken to the hospital with a heart attack last year, the dog was devastated, and stayed at the side of my mother's bed for hours, even though she wasn't there. I tried persuading her to go outside (She has a bladder the size of a pea, so I knew she was agonizing.), and she wouldn't. or eat (Her appetite is huge.) and she wouldn't do either. As a matter of fact, the only moving she would do was to go to the bathroom door. That lasted well into the next day.
The recent story of the young soldier who perished and his dog at his funeral has been well documented as well.
Now I ask you this . . . . Why aren't we as people as loyal as our pets? Why don't we give each other the loyalty, the love, the kindness, that our animals give? As a matter of fact, when someone is being insulted, they're a 'dog.' A snide remark is 'catty.' You know, after watching our pets, we need to re-evaluate those terms. I don't think we humans have the right to be on the same level with dogs and cats at times, as we don't have the love and loyalty as they do.
Mizpah.
Well, that's what I'm going to do this morning. Some of you are going to roll your eyes, and as a matter of fact, you're going to quit reading about now, but I have a reason for this, so be patient with me.
Of course, if I sleep past 5, she lets me know when it's time to get up. I've been boxed, bitten on the toe, jumped on, walked on (her favorite), and meowed in the face quite pitifully. In short, I never have to set the alarm.
When I work on my writing, I do it by hand. She lets me know a lap is a terrible thing to waste, and it makes writing that much harder, but you know what? It also is that much more enjoyable, as I'm doing it with my best friend.
My mother's dog - - whom Cricket and I consider to be our adversary- - is every bit as loyal. (I cannot mention her name in this, as Cricket has not given me permission.) When Mom was taken to the hospital with a heart attack last year, the dog was devastated, and stayed at the side of my mother's bed for hours, even though she wasn't there. I tried persuading her to go outside (She has a bladder the size of a pea, so I knew she was agonizing.), and she wouldn't. or eat (Her appetite is huge.) and she wouldn't do either. As a matter of fact, the only moving she would do was to go to the bathroom door. That lasted well into the next day.
The recent story of the young soldier who perished and his dog at his funeral has been well documented as well.
Now I ask you this . . . . Why aren't we as people as loyal as our pets? Why don't we give each other the loyalty, the love, the kindness, that our animals give? As a matter of fact, when someone is being insulted, they're a 'dog.' A snide remark is 'catty.' You know, after watching our pets, we need to re-evaluate those terms. I don't think we humans have the right to be on the same level with dogs and cats at times, as we don't have the love and loyalty as they do.
Mizpah.
Friday, September 2, 2011
We Never Realize
The other day, I was checking my page at Facebook, and noticed a message from someone I didn't know. Those particular messages one tends to be careful of, as they generally start out, "Hey Handsome . . ." (What makes those interesting is my photo is one of my grandfather when he was in his late seventies!)
Yet this message was from a woman who is married to a fellow I went to grade school with, and haven't seen in nearly forty years. Needless to say, I've never met her. She let me know her husband remember me as I was an epileptic, and they have two boys, ages six and seven, who are autistic. In her words, "John has recognized a lot of behaviors in our sons because of his interactions with you and it has helped him to better understand you as a child and our children as they grow. I just wanted to let you know that whether you know it or not you have had an enormous impact on many people."
Wow. Needless to say, that hit me right between the eyes. I'm not bragging my posting this, but it makes one think about the effect we have on others without realizing it. It also makes us think about our behavior, and how we need to keep an eye on it. One should set a sterling example, as we never know who is watching, and what they are picking up from us.
John has set a sterling example, and I am very proud of him. He has shown himself to be an excellent father I know there are others who watch him, his not knowing it. It continues . . .
Mizpah
Yet this message was from a woman who is married to a fellow I went to grade school with, and haven't seen in nearly forty years. Needless to say, I've never met her. She let me know her husband remember me as I was an epileptic, and they have two boys, ages six and seven, who are autistic. In her words, "John has recognized a lot of behaviors in our sons because of his interactions with you and it has helped him to better understand you as a child and our children as they grow. I just wanted to let you know that whether you know it or not you have had an enormous impact on many people."
Wow. Needless to say, that hit me right between the eyes. I'm not bragging my posting this, but it makes one think about the effect we have on others without realizing it. It also makes us think about our behavior, and how we need to keep an eye on it. One should set a sterling example, as we never know who is watching, and what they are picking up from us.
John has set a sterling example, and I am very proud of him. He has shown himself to be an excellent father I know there are others who watch him, his not knowing it. It continues . . .
Mizpah
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