Making Friends

I seen this on the New Yorker and thought it was hilarious. With all the traveling I have been doing recently, I'm glad that this was not me.

Hello, six-year-old child.

Seeing as how fate has brought us together here, in the crowded coach section of this expensive airplane, I thought I should introduce myself.

My name is Amy, and I’m an adult. I suspect that you’re too young to understand what “adult” means, so let me explain. It means that I’m taller than you, and smarter, and that I get to do lots of awesome things, like smoke cigarettes and ovulate. It also means that I like to take naps on airplanes and read my newspaper in silence. These things seem to be very different from the things that you like to do.

I’ve gleaned from its near-constant utterance by the woman sitting next to you—your mother, I suppose, or perhaps a social worker or a federal prisoner who’s being paid to spend time with you—that your name is Timmy. It’s probably Timothy, actually, but people call you Timmy because it’s cuter. Which is appropriate, Timmy, because you’re very cute, you really are. You’re really very fucking cute.

I’m going to drink this cup of coffee—would you like some? I didn’t think so. You’re more of a juice-box man, from what I gather. The way I gather this is by looking at the stain on my ninety-eight-dollar pants, the one you made when you put your juice box there. If I touched your pants, Timmy, I would probably be sent to jail. There are lots of differences between you and me, but that’s one of the big ones: the quality and the seriousness of what happens when we touch other people’s pants.

You’re not much of a sleeper, are you, Timmy? We’ve just met, but it seems to me like maybe you don’t really enjoy sleeping all that much. In fact, it seems to me that one of your greatest joys in life is wakefulness—and not simply passive wakefulness but the kind of vigorous wakefulness that makes a person like me start to question the very possibility of silence as a condition that can exist in the universe. I can see that I’ve confused you, Timmy, and I apologize; I was only trying to point out that you really seem to enjoy being awake. Let me make it up to you by giving you this modest dose of Ambien. It’s a kind of candy for your soul. Your soul is a kind of mouth that’s inside your brain.

Here comes the nice stewardess lady with a bag for collecting people’s garbage. Would you like me to give her some of the garbage that’s strewn all over your seat—and, if we’re being perfectly honest here, Timmy, all over my seat as well? And, while we’re at it, maybe I could give her this talking doll—the one that sings songs, very loud songs, songs of terrifying and ungodly volume, from that animated movie about adventurous insects. It’s not that I don’t love the doll; it’s just that I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for children to carry such things on airplanes. Have you heard of terrorism, Timothy? That’s why it’s illegal for you to have this doll.

Your whimpering and your dripping facial parts suggest that perhaps this conversation has run its course, so I’ll let you get back to your finger painting, your fidgeting, and your wanton, inexplicable shredding of the in-flight magazine. I’ll be here in my seat, fantasizing about hurtling my childless adult body out of the airplane and into the sky. Enjoy the rest of the flight, Timmy. I’ve really enjoyed sitting next to you. It’s fun to make new friends.

On the first day, God created the dog and said: 'Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years.'

The dog said: 'That's a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I'll give you back the other ten?' So God agreed.

On the second day, God created the monkey and said: 'Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a twenty-year life span.'

The monkey said: 'Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the Dog did?' And God agreed.

On the third day, God created the cow and said: 'You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years.'

The cow said: 'That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back the other forty?' And God agreed again.

On the fourth day, God created man and said: 'Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For this, I'll give you twenty years.'

But man said: 'Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?'

'Okay,' said God, 'You asked for it.'

So that is why for our first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves. For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family. For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren. And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.

Life has now been explained to you. There is no need to thank me for this valuable information. I'm doing it as a public service.

Fait Accompli

I hope everyone had a good Memorial Day. Thank you to all those who serve to protect our freedom.

The past few weeks have been busy. It seems like the weekends just fly by. I have been doing some remodeling in the house and now things are finally almost done. I had the hardwood floors refinished, painted the living room and hallway, stained and installed new molding in all the rooms, hung new window treatments. It is nice to have this almost done. I still have to find things to hang on the wall yet so that is what keeps me from being finished.

Saturday was indoor stuff. I finally took the sheets that were hanging in the windows down and hung new panels. Getting the old hardware out was a pain in the ass. The previous owners used some crazy ass metal screw thingys that were a pain to get out. I spackled the holes, sanded and touched up the paint a bit. Got the new hardware installed without issue and viola... new curtains were hung. I also put two of the cordless shades in the windows that face the neighbors driveway. They are nice cuz they let in light but offer privacy.

I went to Milaegers on Sunday and got some pepper and tomato plants and flowers. Once I got home and started planting I realized that I needed more planters. A quick trip to Kmart and I was back in business. Got the grass cut. Still pissed that I can't get the new weedwacker to work.

Went to watch the Brewer's games on Friday and Sunday nights. That was a mistake. The Twins are not supposed to be good but they sure walked all over the Brewer's. It was nice to see them bounce back in today's game.

Today was more outside stuff. I took down the storm windows. That was hard. They are freaking heavy. I got the windows washed. It is amazing how much brighter the rooms see when the windows are clean.

17 loads of laundry later and I'm ready to call it a weekend. My back and legs are tired from going up and down a ladder.

I feel really good that I got alot done this weekend. It really gives me a sense of pride that I can do so many things, on my own, that I never knew I could do.

I Smell Poop

It started in March. The setting: Universal Studios in Orlando, FL. While waiting for my nephew and his girlfriend to get their drinks refilled, I sat down under a tree to stay out of the sun. I felt something hit my head. I lift my hand up and sure enough... a bird pooped on me. A few napkins and water later, I was all cleaned up and ready to go.

Last weekend in Dollywood in Pigeon Forge, TN. My cousin and I are walking around. There are alot of trees and the park is nicely shaded. Once again, I feel something brush against my hair. Once again, another bird pooped on me.

Last but not least, this afternoon. I'm walking down the street with the dogs, heading towards the park. Rufus stops to whiz on a small tree. Once again, I feel something brush against my hair. Once again, another bird pooped on me.

WTF?!?

It was a small bird in a tree that was not more than 8-9 feet tall. Thanks goodness I had a Kleenex in my pocket.

What does it mean when you keep getting crapped on by birds? Is it good luck... bad luck... or just damn unlucky?? All I know is that I'm not sitting under any trees at camping this weekend.

Picture Show Horror

I was going to write about my trip to Tennessee last weekend and post lots of great pictures. More about that in another post.

Except for one thing.... my crap camera has decided that it does not like my memory card and keeps wanting to reformat it. Hence, I lose the pictures on it. I have determined that it is the camera and not the memory card as it has done the same thing with three different cards.

I may be heading out to Best Buy to go get a new camera tomorrow. I never really cared for the camera. It sucks batteries like crazy. When I was in Florida last month, I went thru 8 AA batteries in one day at Sea World. It's not like the batteries are crappy ones. They were Kodak brand. Recommended for cameras. My last camera had a nice rechargable battery that I never worried about.

I figure I will sell the crap camera on eBay and let someone else deal with the mess.

Does anyone have any recommendations for a new camera? I want to stay in the $200-$300 range