Category Archives: #Humor/Comical/Funny/Humorus

Wrinkles & Prunes

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dorian-gray-portrait

A writing prompt from WordPress:

You wake up one day and realize you’re ten years older than you were the previous night. Beyond the initial shock, how does this development change your life plans?

Wrinkles and Prunes

May Dillard wakes to the sound of a bird chirp coming from her smart phone. A birthday text message appears from her daughter, Melissa, saying, “Happy 76th! You’re the Best.” May is surprised by the time, 9AM, and cannot remember the last time she slept this late. She stretches, flutters her feet to get blood circulating, and thinks, I’m not seventy-six, although I feel ten years older this morning. I am sixty-six.

In the bathroom, she lets the hot water run cold while she brushes her teeth, then washes and cleanses her face once the water is warm. The mirror reflects a ten year older version of her. The famous quote, “Old age is not for wimps!” ping-pongs in her mind. She says aloud, “I’m sixty-six today. I was born November 1st, 1948. Today is November 1st 2014, I’m sixty-six.”

Yesterday’s newspaper touted the benefits of coffee and May brews a pot. Anticipating the aroma, she walks to the front door and retrieves today’s newspaper. She removes the plastic sleeve and spreads the paper open on the kitchen table. The headline, “School Board Candidate Borrows Answers” is bold. Evidently, a member had copied and pasted information from Wikipedia onto their application form,and the media considers it cheating.

The date on the newspaper is November 1, 2024.

She had gone to sleep in 2014.

May retrieves a pair of  eyeglasses from her handbag to check the year. It reads 2024 clearly; aging her ten years. She searches the recycling bin and finds a paper dated October 31, 2024, but no story on the benefits of coffee. She recalls the article’s title, “Coffee’s surprising perks,” and the writers visit to the annual Convention of the Hawaii Coffee Association in the year 2014.

It is possible she slipped off the toilet and hit her head last night, as Hillary Clinton did in 2011 or could not remember due to a stroke or amnesia.

The phone rings, really it is a whistle to announce a call. She answers. Her sister Judy sings Happy Birthday. Then says, “God how did we get so old, in four years you’ll be eighty. We’ll have to do something special, like climb Mt. Everest, LOL.”

They chat freely, Judy doing most of the talking and May pretending to be ten years older than she believes. Later, the family gathers to celebrate and May blows out the chunky seven and six numbered candles that decorated an ice cream cake.

That evening she fears sleep, afraid she will wake another ten years older.

Well, she would still be alive. If life expectancy was eighty-one, she had five more good years. She was going to make the best of them.

There would be some changes..

Saturday morning May is packing when her daughter arrives. 

Melissa asks, “Mom, what are you doing?”

May struggles to an upright position and straightens her back and shoulders with a smile, “I’m going on the road. Do you need a vacuum? In five years I won’t be vacuuming.”

“Mom what are you talking about?”

“I making some changes, selling the house, traveling to all the places I haven’t been to. If you don’t want the vacuum I’ll donate it. How about a Crock Pot? They’re real convenient for one pot meals. On second thought I think I’ll take that with me.”

                                      . . . just saying

Think Thought Thunk/The Silly Poem Series

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2c90f948-33df-4ac3-8cbd-4b4be7ba626e                                                                                                                Aging & Attitude

 

Thinking is more than a thought.
 
So get out of bed
Stand on your head
Meditate!
That 10% Mind Myth is false
 
The Brain Initiative is more than talk
Mind Mapping identifies . . . gets you to walk
Is dementia a squawk
Like a lazy muscle, atrophy the cause
 
Can humans run out of thoughts
Ask Scarlett Johansson, character Lucy;
How to be a kick ass beauty
Stop ruminating about loss
 
Thinking is more than a thought.
  
 

 

 

 

 

Global Positioning System & Your Hippocampus

Shopping for Bread in a Hardware Store/Silly Poem Series

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3934175392_a22a526274_z                                                                              Aging & Attitude

                                                                Shopping for Bread in a Hardware Store

Hardware Stores fit all our needs
Wheel barrels are near the door

First aisle; nuts and bolts tucked in draws
Second aisle; power tools, gadgetry and more
Midnight Blue and Sunset Yellow paint swatches, linger by brushes.
Floor Fans overcome noise

But no bread!

Hand tools and power saws hang over drop cloths
Welcome mats decorated the floor

Perhaps the bread was in the back
Squeezed between charcoal and bug spray
After fertilizer and birdseed
Before the rest room door

But no, no bread!

I asked a man for help.
The man scratched his beard and said
“Lady you are in the wrong store.”

. . . . just saying

 

Eat, Pray, Peel/The Silly Poem Series

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20140529_094357  Eat, Pray, Peel

On a recent trip north, Mr. Wonderful and I stopped at a rest area in West Virginia. A  pamphlet, “County Cookbook”,  was in a rack of free brochures and I took one. I was intrigued by a recipe for picked eggs, and remember seeing ruby red eggs  in large glass  jars back in the seventies, but  never ate one.  At home I gave pickled eggs a try. Peeling the hard boiled eggs took more than an hour. There was cussing and swearing!

20140529_094436

 

Pickled eggs caught my eye, Why?
Simple, pickled eggs can be a treat!
But . . . first you need the pickled beets

Like Shakespeare’s Lady Macbeth
An iridescent show of color.
Looks good to eat . . . except!

Hands turn red, hot liquid stain
Crimson ruby, not lobster red, or cardinal beauty
Red alert, a warning sign
Out damn spot! I want my sink to shine                                             20140529_095950

Now come the eggs
Surely, pure and white, it’s easy
Crack, coax, convince, cajole
But no! The shell won’t let go

Tiny pieces in disarray
Pray, persuade, the outer capsule to pull away
The boiled mass to shed its skin
Woo, entice, lure, and then give in

To ask God’s help again . . . a sin

Like Macbeth confused about the crown
Egg and shell needed time to cool down
Why did pickled eggs catch my eye?

                                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                                    . . . just saying

 

 

Bull Dogging Net Neutrality/The Silly Poem Series

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   This poem was written after viewing John Oliver’s  you-tube video about net neutrality.  Oliver is hilarious explaining how important things are often boring and consequently do not receive our attention.  I myself, missed the initial boo ha ha. You may need to view his rant first, the link is below as well as embedded in words John Oliver.

 Bull Dogging Net Neutrality

 

Heard Tom Wheeler, former  NCTA dealer, has gotten the FCC chair.
Now, overseer of what he previously planned.
A new net neutrality game of slow lanes and fast lanes

Proposals for hyper speed highways, to avoid traffic jams.
Fix something John Oliver claims is not broken
Just boring . . . Nobody cares!

A quiet Mob shakedown by Comcast and Verizon
Millions invested in the scam
A drug cartel takeover, forget about creating bans

What are you talking about. . .
Keep equal access, equal.
The internet is already one speed

The proposal called . . . differentiation             
Double talk for better faster service,
Other countries already have so don’t need!

The FCC seeks public comments
Your opportunity to vent
Or write a politician,
Mozilla Firefox will make sure your letters are sent.

 

. . . just saying

 

Summer Solstice/The Silly Poem Series

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th (300x164) Aging & Attitude

Summer solstice sillies, something else a new event!
Reminiscent of clam bakes, swimming lessons
Freckles, blistered shoulders
Sharing baby oil among friends.
Scratched up from picking blue berries
White Keds worn on our feet
Baby sitting for twenty-five cents an hour, considered a treat.

Is the Summer Solstice Silly?
Well, we still can have fun.
A vacation, or staycation, not to offend anyone.
The feverish dog days of summer are coming,
Steering wheels burn hands and flip-flops sting feet.

 

The latest CBS bulletin; we won’t enjoy more sun,
But will miss the needed sleep.
Not to worry, on/off button  is in the future
And they make covers for hot leather car seats.

                                    . . . . just saying

Vampire Drain

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            thAging & Attitude

  It is 6AM, birds fill the air with singsong conversation while I sip coffee, and think about vampire drain. I could be sleeping; however, my continuous glucose monitor woke me.

   What is a continuous glucose monitor?

   It is a device I wear to inform me of my blood glucose level. I have been diabetic for thirty plus years. When my BG level slips dangerously low, a beep alerts me and continues to beep until I get up and do something about it.

   What is vampire drain?

   Vampire drain is my latest pet peeve. Merging, plastic bags, doubling plastic bags, the use of filler words by media, and weathermen who shout about precipitation are other pet peeves.

   Periodically, I rant that traffic jams could be lessened if people knew how to merge. Frown at check-out clerks, who ignore my request for no plastic, (I bring cloth) and the clerk proceeds to put fish, already wrapped in plastic and white paper; in double plastic, with the speed of lightning. I can be sarcastic about professional television media, who use filler words (duh, um, ah, etc.), and weathermen who tell us it is going to rain with such alarm I consider building an ark.

   There are two types of vampire drain; electrical is the one I find infuriating. The other is an emotional drain from high maintenance friends, and I have gotten rid them.

   Vampire drain is when a cell phone or laptop charger is left plugged into a wall outlet but not connected to a phone or laptop, very likely using energy and draining your pocketbook unnecessarily. Standby power is also considered a form of vampire drain because it requires energy unknowingly. The practice might be defended by saying, “It’s pennies, only one cell charger, what difference can that make?” Well multiply that around the world and it makes a difference.

   Now that I am thinking about it,  storage of emails is another waste of energy. Emails are stored on a hard drive and electricity cools and keeps the hard drive running twenty-four seven. Someone once shared they had never deleted a single email, and had four thousand messages stored. I refrained from screaming since they were clueless.

   There are many ways to reduce vampire drain, but it does not need to be complicated. Simply unplug  a device once it is fully charged, and all chargers not in use, and while you are at it delete all old emails. It will save you some money and help the world go green.

. . . . just saying

 

Still Politically Stupid

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25politics-master675-v2   The clock reads 8:35, it is Sunday morning, and I have slept in. We had friends for dinner last night and the extra rest feels good.

Mr. Wonderful, awake since 7AM, is sitting on the living room couch doing the New York Times crossword puzzle.

The glass doors to the patio are closed, the outside soaked with water. Long streaks wet the surface as though sprayed with a hose.

“Did it rain?” I asked him.

“No, it’s condensation,” he answers remaining focused.

The overnight surge in humidity is spoiling the outside view, and the air is heavy with sweat. I make an Italian Roast k-cup of coffee, grab the newspaper, and join him on the couch. However, our good life is short-lived once I start reading.

An Associated Press headline, “Pre-book tour, GOP tries to define Hillary,” demands my attention. The article is beside the Thomas Voting Report, “How your U.S lawmakers voted,” giving the appearance that the topics are related, they are not.

image01   Florida Representatives, Corrine Brown, Ron DeSantis, and John Mica, voted in all eight bills that address some serious public concerns, i.e., military budget, minimum wage & equal pay, climate change spending, and spying.

   I am optimistic thinking they increased the  minimum wage, got serious about climate control and ended civil service job protection, not.

After everything was said and done the House voted to:

  • Approved a 1.8% pay increase for troops effective in 2015
  • Continue to contract with companies that pay less than $10.10 an hour
  • Prohibit the Defense Department from spending funds on climate change
  • Keep Presidential authority of indefinite detention
  • Keep Guantanamo Bay Prison open
  • Curb National Security Agency collection of bulk data
  • Fire any federal executive culpable in VA scandal
  • Fund water projects

   At least they did something or did not seem to do nothing, and on paper Republicans passed five of the ten bills and had time to discuss the publication of Hillary Clinton’s book, “Hard Choices”  and her up coming book tour.    

   The newspaper article discusses Republican efforts pre-book tour to stop Hillary Clinton from running for office. There is a Stop Hillary Pac, organized by Garrett Marquis who claims to have raised $500,000 and have 250,000 supporters.

   Once again feeling politically stupid, I wonder, can that be legal? Forget that these activities, previously done behind closed-door, are sleazy and unethical, attempts to prevent a woman from seeking political office can be construed as  sex discrimination.

    Talk is the book tour is part of Hillary’s plan to front questions about her competency while Secretary of State and her handling of Benghazi. It probably is, however, it is common practice for world leaders to write memoirs and there is even another book titled Hard Choices by another Secretary of State. Evidently book titles are not copyrighted and it is the perfect title.

  House Republicans plan to further probe the Benghazi attack, is included in the article, as is Senator Lindsey Graham insightful vow, “I’m not going to quit until I can prove to people that story was manufactured through gross incompetence or willfully misleading the public six weeks before an election.”

   What is he talking about? I thought Benghazi was about the loss of lives not political get elected strategies; though politically stupid, what do I know.

. . . . just saying

 

 

Whatever Happened to Mikey?

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Swingline is the name brand of an old stapler sitting on my desk, that I have stared at for the past ten minutes. The mental pause feels like writers block, but is probably indigestion, or a senior moment. The handy device has been dropped many times and has only a few scratches. It is dirty from forty plus years of handling.

Forgetting about environmental effects, I grab a bottle of Bang and spray it clean. An inscription, made in the USA Long Island City, New York, is readable when the finger grime is removed. The steel grey metal color now shines, and the words, Swingline Speed Stapler, brag about its lasting quality. There are seven patent numbers listed. The patents are probably why it continues to work and I have kept it all these years. It is sturdy and strong, and can also be opened to staple paper flat on a bulletin board.

Remember schoolroom bulletin boards filled with colored construction paper, and displays made from paper plates cut in pie-pieces, to demonstrate fraction equivalents; I taught first grade at St. Brendan’s School in the Bronx and when I left, took the stapler.

The song, Little Rabbit Foo-Foo, and Mikey come to mind, everyone knows Mikey from the Cheerios commercial.

Michael Gilchrist was my student.

There were three Gilchrist brothers: Tom, Michael, and John. John, the youngest, was the three-year old called Mikey in the commercial. The real Michael, my student, says, “I’m not going to try it,” in the commercial, and pushes the bowl of Cheerio’s towards him.

There was a lot of excitement when the commercial ran, and shortly after the family moved to Yonkers.

But whatever happened to Mikey, John Gilchrist?

MSG director of media sales John Gilchrist poses

Mikey is alive and says, “The folklore that I ate Pop Rocks, the exploding candies, and I drank a soda and my stomach blew up,” is not true.

Gilchrist, 44, has been in ad sales, first in radio, including a stint at ESPN, and now for MSG Networks, where he is director of media sales, primarily negotiating with advertisers on TV ads.

Although “Mikey” had no lines at all in his third and most well-known commercial, he built a successful career and appeared in about 250 other commercials.

 

Do You Tweet?

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“Do you Tweet?” Christine asks me, as the waitress approaches the table.

We are having lunch at The Olive Garden. It is a celebration of sorts; Christine has a new website  and food blog, Pudbudder. Tricia’s, children’s book, “Detective You’re” is in the hands of an illustrator, and my short story, “Wheels of Circumstance” is an FWA selection.

The waitress interrupts to tell us the specials and ends by saying, “I’ll be back to take your order.”

“I have a Twitter account but never Twit?” I responded

“It’s Tweet, you tweet, not twit on Twitter.” Twitter links to LinkedIn and can increase your followers. I have 452 followers. I’m doing resumes for people in Australia”

Tricia and I, thankful to know someone tech savvy are impressed, and leap on the opportunity to ask questions we feel too stupid to otherwise ask.

“If it is called twitter, why do you tweet and not twit?”

Soft spoken Tricia  inquires politely, “What’s Twitter?”

“Twitter is an online social networking service where people can send and read text-based messages of up to 140 characters, known as ‘tweets’.”   Wikipedia’s definition; “a short burst of inconsequential information, and ‘chirps from birds’.” Christine says smiling.

“I think I was a bird in a former life,” I comment.” But why characters? Why not spaces?”

Tricia asks, “Couldn’t they send a short email?”

“I don’t know.” Christine rolls her eyes and continues, “This is like trying to convince cavemen they’d be better off using matches.”

The waitress is back and takes our orders.

When she is gone, Christine leans across the table to Tricia and questions, “Do you know what a hash tag is?”

“Don’t be a twerp, how would I know about hash?” Is Tricia’s not so polite, reply.

“It’s a number sign, # you can use it to share a twitter story.” Christine taunts and proceeds to inform us; Twitter is undergoing changes and now has Tweetups, Tweetie, New Twitter, and Retweets.

I have a headache.

We leave the restaurant two hours later laughing about Twitter, tweets and twits.

Later that evening I login in to my Twitter account, take the Twitter -Tour and learn, one has to follow to get followers.

So, who will I follow?

Mr. Wonderful is watching the ALDS series, the Yankees are playing Baltimore.  I type Yankee in the search bar.  Mike Blooomberg, aka Mayor of NYC, tweets, “Go Yankees”

Ruth Westheimer, aka Dr. Ruth, Psychosexual Therapist,(I am surprised is still alive) tweets, “So-A-Rod benched”

Nothing exciting is happening here.

I  plan to watch Blue Bloods on CBS and figure the TV program is a safe search.

Jim Wahlberg, Dorchester, MA, no known relation to Danny, Donnie Wahlberg, real life brother to Mark Wahlberg well know for the movies, Ted and The Fighter is tweeting, really flirting with Paula NKOTB.

Not of interest to me.

However, Donnie was recently interviewed by Gayle King, of whom I am a big fan. She asks an interesting question, waits and respects the answer.  Sunday morning Gayle tweeted she’d been to Streisand concert and to the Barclay for burger bash with her favorite mayor.  I am jealous.

Gayle has 589, 454 followers and one more, me.

As of today I have one follower, dear Christine, but who is counting.

…just saying