MORNING
According to Dan Lewis, there is a travel agency in Tokyo that will take your stuffed animal on a tour. Complete with postcards and tweets. Hey Memphis, want to see Africa? (Memphis is my stuffed bird (taxidermy)). Of course, they mean the other kind, but now ask me if I still miss Memphis.
Then, I decided to do a comedy take-off on that old Snow White tune, “Some Day My Prince Will Come”. You know, to play it if any lady plays hard to get. I found out a few things. The tune is from 1937, placing it squarely in the jazz era. So just you try to find a good version of it. Every cuckoo-brain bebop bozo and his floppy-eared dog must have attacked that song. Many times I could not spot it as even being the same piece of music.
Here’s the chord chart. Seventeen different chords in one song. This is the musical equivalent of a writer being paid by the word. To me, complex and needless chord changes are what prompts the musically over-educated to regard jazz as being a superior or higher strata. It isn’t. Practically any song can be made into jazz by adding chord variations and this is, musically speaking, the lowest form of humor.
I was at the bakery and you talk about your madhouse. Naturally, they expected all the Xmas orders to be picked up so there were extra staff. But they could not be prepared for all the gimptards that inexplicably show up when things are hectic. I would last maybe ten minutes in a job serving such people. Let me look at my watch to see if I have time to tell you of just one of them turkeys. Yes.
Okay, first, I know the guy is a flagrant azzhole because I’ve got two brothers from the same mold. The place is stacked three deep with people waiting in line and he’s taking his time. Pointing at each cookie and asking what are the ingredients. Then asking the price and saying, “What?” Not because he is hard of hearing but because that’s how he displays that he thinks the price is too high. Then he orders two cookies, and after the clerk rings it up and hands him the package, well, now e wants another two.
This dickhead kept this up for some twenty long minutes. Finally, after the clerk rang up four separate orders for him, he decides he wants a receipt. The cash register is immediate only, so she has to go back and void the first three orders. After he finally left, I said to the crowd, “I'll bet he works for Comcast.”
Brought down the house. Are you listening, Comcast?
NOON
Meanwhile, I can’t find a gal to move in with me. It’s a wonder I don’t avoid Xmas. Well, that’s not true, I could easily find a gal to live here, but I’d like one who can carry her own weight, please. Ha, I just thought that could be taken as incentive for her to weight as little as possible. That would be okay, if she was slim. But I'm touchy on the self-support thing, every time a meet a gal without her own money, she steals or won't pay, same thing.
JZ and I drove through the Gables, he knows all the side roads with the best Xmas lights. It’s worth a look, but such things have never been part of my holiday spirits. We didn’t stay long at dinner, either, we were the only two bachelors in the room. Everyone was doing the visiting thing, the whole Xmas is now much better balanced and more like the tradition over at dad’s. Big dinner downtown, then a smaller gathering for gifts. I sure do miss dad.
EVENING
Being that both JZ and I would like to show up with fancy ladies, we decided afterward to zip out for a night cap. You know, do a little family visitin' of our own He wanted to go to the casino, which is an atmosphere I don’t care for. This is a perpetual difference between us. When I think of a good time, I don't think of painted ladies. And if you are not sure why, tell you what, you go to a casino on Xmas Eve and take a good close look at who is there gambling on that night. I suspect God has given a lot of the wrong people way too much money.
He’s convinced he’s missed the boat with a nice gal where I’m still in the market. Remember, he and I are quite different people with dissimilar outlooks on women and money. I mention it because I see money as something to spend now, because I have no long-term future. But I’d like a lady friend to spend it with. He’s the opposite. Party up with the women now and save money for the long term. See what I mean? What long term?
So no big Xmas stories this year, except for the youngest, all the kids are now adults. One novelty was the fireplace. I never saw it before, but it was a video of a log fire on the big flatscreen TV. Playing the carols and crackling away. What must the [rest of the] world think of us? Drop back tomorrow when I find the picture of JZ wearing the ugliest shirt in Dixie. He’s lucky it wasn’t a real fireplace or somebody would have chucked that shirt in it—-and he wore that same shirt to Mass you know. You’ll see.
ADDENDUM
Read my lips, this blog is not where you come to hear the breaking stories of the hour. I do not watch television. That also means the very few other people I know who don’t watch TV either can’t afford one or don’t really do anything else, either. That makes them totally unlike me. Got that? Here are the top three reasons which bring people to this blog:
Author's note: No matter how this or any topic may be covered on Fox News, my perspective on it is derived from non-mainstream sources. (I know of Fox News only by reputation, and it isn't good.) By the time I hear about it and am motivated to comment, the topic has become a real issue, not something contrived to take up air space on slow news days. Most of my regular readers highly value this fact—if only as confirmation that they are not the only ones thinking differently.
I am reacting to the facts as I learn them, not the canned opinions of professional newscasters trained to angle one point of view, usually the digustingly Liberal. Hence, my conclusions are my own, not parroting the party line as is the case with most television viewers. I know plenty about useless political correctness for I used to work at the phone company. Repeating what some spokesperson said is NOT a valid opinion and does not belong in polite conversation when speaking to someone like me.
Third, not watching television also means I am hardly influenced by that whole under-culture of existence. I don’t stand around the water cooler the next day comparing versions. This means, at the very least, my perspective on each matter will be worded differently. I have a stack of fan mail this high from people thanking me for wording the topic independently. And that manner alone is of considerable importance to people who use their brains.
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