Six weeks is a long time. That's the duration of the Rugby World Cup. But it's over now, so I thought I'd write a poem in ode. Ahem.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Congratulations to the New Zealand All Blacks for winning the 2015 Rugby World Cup and especially to my favorite player, the ineffable Sonny Bill Williams, who gave away his world cup gold medal to a kid from the stands when the team was making it's victory lap of the stadium and there wasn't a person who witnessed it who wasn't in awe of the gesture, the moment eclipsed only by the snark that came out later on social media ("that'll be on eBay in two hours!").
To the heroes of a rough sport, I say well done.
November 2, 2015
Recently got a wedding invitation where the calligraphy on the card was so convoluted and hard to read that I thought it said one date and my wife thought it said another. We actually had to call the mother of the bride to get the correct time of the wedding. My conversation with Mom:
-- Uh, are we the only ones to call to confirm the date?
-- Heavens no! Damn near every guest has called! No one can read the damn cards! Her fancy writing is leaving everyone guessing where it is, when it is, who she's marrying - it's a schmozzle. She signed up for ten calligraphy classes but after only one lesson she figured she had it down and started writing out the invitations on the expensive paper without knowing what she was doing! And now it's turned into a giant damn mess! I been on the phone for days explaining what the invitations said 'cause no one can read them. It's driving me crazy. I'm going crazy.
-- Ok then, well thanks, and I guess we'll see you at the wedding.
-- If I make it, if the stress doesn't kill me, if my daughter doesn't do something else freakin' insane. I need a drink.
November 3, 2015
In the daughter's defence, the father of the bride told me that "she never really learned cursive writing. Chunky wrists," he let on. "Printing was always her thing. Now this schmozzle with the botched calligraphy. The phone hasn't stopped ringing. My wife is going insane. I need a drink. Excuse me."
A cousin of the family told me he made a bet with his girlfriend about what time the wedding was taking place. "Who could read it? Look, we knew about her wrist limitations so surely we expected a nice hand printed invitation, but certainly not this, this weird Picasso writing abomination experiment! Anyway, between me and my old lady, the loser of the bet has to French kiss the bride or groom using tongue! Kissing cousins! We're gonna have fun with this wedding because frankly, neither of us think it's gonna last."
A friend told me that his invitation had the word spacing so poorly managed that she ran out of room on the card and just never finished it. He doesn't know where the wedding is or what time. "Was she drunk?"
Finally, her aunt asked her if really, reimagining cursive writing was a good thing to undertake at this time and age. Didn't we all live through her chunky wrist issues? Attempting fancy writing now, what was she thinking?!
November 4, 2015
The wedding went off without a hitch. The problem was Jared. Jared looked down on everybody. Some say it was the camera angle, but most said it was Jared.
A couple of weeks ago we had a bear blow through our field fence collapsing a 100 foot section. It's been kind of odd to go walking in our field and woods not sure if a large hairy beast is in there with us. Anyway, the fence is getting repaired today and I can only hope the Ursus arctos canadensisis is not in the field when it's put back up or he will just destroy the fence again trying to get out. Doing things twice. Ah, the rural life.
November 7, 2015
Dear Keith Ryan Publishing, will you publish my first novel? Below is an excerpt.
Carla met Sammy and decided he was the one for her. But then Sammy met Dylan and thought perhaps he was the one for him. When Carla got wind of Sammy's infatuation with Dylan, she at first wanted to kill Sammy, but then she would have nothing, so she decided to kill Dylan. The problem was, Dylan was a 5th degree black belt and thrashed Carla to within an inch of her life when she tried to inject him with something she bought off the Internet. But ooh, didn't Sammy like everyone fighting over him! Anyway, Carla was busted up and spent the next year rehabbing in a remote hunting lodge owned by her uncle Manfred. One day she ran into Sammy and Dylan on the street. Carla pulled out the 9 inch shank she had fashioned from a fireplace poker at the lodge and (hoping this day would come), repeatedly stabbed Sammy, killing him instantly. "If I have nothing, everyone gets nothing," she said, glaring at karate boy Dylan as she poked the long dead Sammy a few more times. Dylan fled. Carla went clubbing that night in the hopes of finding a new and better boyfriend.
November 8, 2015
In the old days, if you lived on a farm, sooner or later a barnstorming pilot would knock on your door to see if you wanted to purchase aerial photos of your farm and property. Nowadays, it's a guy with a drone and a 20 megapixel hi-def camera who gives you a memory stick with your pics on it. Same result, just a whole lot less romantic.
November 9, 2015
This TV scientist says that we are overdue for another glacial ice age. Not much later he says that global warming will cause the polar ice caps to melt, and I'm thinking, Dude, which is it? Frozen ice or melting ice? Because there's a big difference, right? But he never says. He never says! Fail. FAIL. Click.
November 10, 2015
I knew a painter who desperately wanted to be discovered. But no jurors ever picked his paintings and no gallery ever called him for a show. To survive, on Saturdays and Sundays, he would pack up his easel and set up at a local amusement park where he would do quick and canny ink and line portraits for 10 bucks a pop. Last year, he didn't sell a single painting, but he managed over 3500 portraits. He wants to be discovered so he can get his weekends back. "I have other things to do, you know."
November 12, 2015
Just do what you want to do. Waiting for the approval of others is just a lack of commitment on your part. Be bold. Do it. Just do it.
For sale, fixer upper. Owned by one family (for 600 years). Prime location on rural hilltop with views in all directions. Abundant stoneworks (in need of repointing), with built-in battlements and room for 100 soldiers guests. Has separate slave quarters, multipurpose dungeon and games room. Must sell. 50,000 drachmas OBO. Ask for Vlad.
November 14, 2015
Overheard in town.
-- I quit the church.
-- What?! Why?
-- Last week, I'm sitting there bored out of my mind listening to this monotonous sermon when I started really looking at the clown costume he's wearing with the dumbass meter tall hat and the flowing robes and it dawns on me that this is all theatre, and this dude doesn't know any more about life than I do. He's just some special interest salesman telling me how to do things his way. I said to myself, Screw that, and walked out in the middle of his sermon.
-- For 30 years I have been blindly following their dogma. Where has it gotten me? I'm no better off than if I just did things my own way according to my own conscience. Why do I need some boring doofus in a Halloween costume telling me what's right and wrong?
-- So, from now on, I'm listening to my own inner voice and the church can suck it.
November 16, 2015
Ow. Damn. I cracked a tooth this morning. Ow. Ow. My dentist is squeezing me in. Ow. Later, my pretties.
November 17, 2015
When I was at the dentist's office there was an old couple who had to be in their mid 90s in the waiting room. It was kinda depressing to think that I could be 95 and still having to visit a dentist. The whine of the drill, someone sticking their fingers in your mouth, does it ever end?
November 18, 2015
RIP Jonah Lomu.
November 20, 2015
Man, this is the 3rd time I have found my work expropriated on the Web. Someone steals something written by me, publishes it as if it was their own and then denies that they stole it when presented with the facts. One troll's response: "Of all the people I could have ripped off, I chose you. Your work is good, that's why I'm calling it mine. You should be flattered." Grrrr.
Pulled into our driveway only to find 4 deer milling about down at our barn. I stopped the truck to unload it and the deer stood there watching me. No one ran, no one was alarmed, no one seem too concerned. Isn't it nice when the wildlife are merely curious and have no fear that you might want to kill them?
November 25, 2015
It snowed the last couple of days and Maddie has been quite pleased by this. She has been sleeping outside because we can't get her to stay in. Last night at 2 AM I heard her howling so I got up to see what she was talking about. She was in the yard rolling around on her back in the snow and just howling to herself about how good it felt. The thermometer said it was -14. Malamutes!
November 26, 2015
If you're going to listen to the advice of others, make sure it's positive and life enriching and not based in fear, speculation or innuendo. Think for yourself; take in that which will make you a better human and a more compassionate being. The rest is dross.
November 28, 2015
When your team isn't doing well, sports seem meaningless and superfluous while your attention is pulled toward other things that matter. 'Course, when they're winning, there's nothing more captivating or compelling. We so fickle.
November 29, 2015
Saw a black cat and a white cat walking up the middle of our dirt road together. When a car approached, the black cat went to the left berm and the white cat went to the right berm. When the car passed, the cats rejoined each other shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the road. Buddies on the stroll. Too cute.
November 30, 2015
Gak, I hate it when electronics don't deliver. Bought a new soundbar for the telly. Everything was great. Right price, right sound, one problem. The soundbar and the TV remote operated on the same frequency, so any button pressed on the TV remote would also activate the soundbar to go up, down or mute. It was stupendously annoying. It was the living embodiement of What's the frequency, Kenneth?