Boonizms

Well my son and his wife are expecting. My first grandchild is on the way. Pretty exciting times. Sure will be strange having a little one around again after all these years. They were so cute about telling me. It seems they had a present they forgot to give me. It was wrapped in Frosty the Snowman paper, what was I to think? When I opened it, there inside was a bib that said “I love Grandpa” My daughter, who was also there started crying. I think I must have shead a tear as well. Too cool!

So in month or so they’ll get to “see” the baby, by way of sonogram. I hear they are very detailed these days. Of course they will be able to tell if it’s a guy baby or a girl baby. You know, like they can tell at the airport when you go through one of those new fangled X-ray things. Why does everyone think it’s OK to check out your parts? Even a baby deserves a little privacy! So you know the gender of the child, big deal, now you can give ‘em a name. But have you heard some of the names these days? My favorite one was Smith. A friend I know, has a grandchild on the way they are going to call Smith! No confusion there ……… I can hear the child’s teacher now……”Well little boy, what’s your name?” ….”Smith” ….”No, I mean your first name.” …. “It is my first name.” ……”Really? Smith is your first name.” …. “Yes” ………”But we have 2 Smith’s in the class already and it’s their last name. Can we call you Smitty?” ..”No my name is Smith!” ….”Ok, Smith. What’s your last name Smith?” ….. “James” ……..I wonder what ever happened to Bubba, Jake, and Duke. Good guy names. They probably use those for girl names now. “What a darling little girl! What’s her name?”  “It’s Bubba!” Oh boy ………. what next?

Soon everybody’s lives are going to change. We know who will be in charge then! Even Oscar the cat will have to deal with it. For me it will be easy. I’ll just go get another glass of wine. That and give the little one back when it starts to cry. Grandpas can do that.

I know, it’s been a long time since my last story. I’ve been busy. Not busy as a bee or busy as a busy beaver, just busy. One project I took on since last time was a make-over for my Master Suite. Now it’s all painted a scrumptious chocolate brown. It really is a tasty color, good enough to eat. I suppose you could now call it my Master “Sweet”, if you are so inclined to. I used a dark shade to help me sleep at night. The brown just happens to look good with the teal blues and lime greens in the bath but I’m guessing no one really cares about that.

The thing is, when I got on the scale the other day I had gained 8 lbs. And to top that off, those pesky bite marks on the walls are going to need some touching up. (I wonder if Hersheys makes a chocolate chaulk?) Also, I’ve been thinking I could use a nice mint green as an accent to the chocolate. It could add more flavor to the walls! Yummmmm!! Now I’m sure my weight gain has nothing what-so-ever to do with my over eating during the holidays. No way!!

I hear alcohol is fattening too. You don’t suppose my wine habit had anything to do with my weight gain. If it did I don’t want to hear about it! I’m blaming it on my midnight sleep walks and those lucious walls. I’m wondering if there is a peanut butter colored paint? Hmmm, now that would be quite a combo.

Friday the 13th. It’s said to be the unluckiest day of the year. This year it is in fact the only Friday the 13th. In 2009 there were three, so see, it could be worse. So what you say, it’s only another day. Then why did my razor scape the friggin’ skin off my face this morning! We’re talking major blood-letting here. My co-worker said my cat must have used it to shave his private parts. Now what the heck does that mean? I wonder if she knows that the tought of that will remained etched in my brain now?   EEWWW !! And folks that was just the beginning of my day. Then there was the cock roach than scampered across my table at lunch time. I swear I think he flipped me off when he went by. He also said something to me but all I understood was “Gringo”. He was Mexican, of course and so was the restaurant.

Can you remember things that happened to you on Friday the 13th? I certainly can. I threw up at school one time on that day. We’re talking big chunks right there in the stairwell that everyone takes between classes. Then there was the time I broke my ankle on Friday the 13th. The only other bone I ever broke was a toe when I kicked a chair in anger, but that’s a whole another story. I wonder if losing your virginity counts as bad luck? How could it be bad luck to get lucky? And why do they call it losing your virginity? What are you losing here? Except maybe your mind for pulling a stunt like that as a teenager! That was on a Friday night after a football game that was played on the 13th.

You would think the guy with the hockey mask might be catching up with me by now, delivering all kinds of bad luck. Or was that from Halloween and not Friday the 13th? Oh heck, I forget! But then I forget a lot of stuff these days. Someone once asked me if I suffered from short term memory loss. I just schrugged and said that I don’t remember. I guess that it’s a little crazy these days. You would certainly have a lot of company if you were. If you add Friday the 13th to that, it would be Bonker City!! So go buy yourself a $13 bootle of wine and celebrate the passing of another very unlucky day!

OK guys,today’s blog is a 2 parter. The before and the after. You see, tonight I’m having a private dance lesson. This whole thing started when my lady friend was telling me how she likes, no, make that loves, Cajun dancing. One night her favorite Zydeco band was playing nearby and we drove over to catch some of their tunes. I gotta tell ya, it was totally awsome! I was hooked on those bayou tunes right away. So now I’m learning some dance steps so I can take in a real Cajun dance next weekend.

Now mind you, I have had a couple of group lessons trying my best to learn how to waltz, so I’m not really a beginner. Besides, my cat Oscar has seen me bop around the house all the time. He just sits there by his bowl thinking I must be in a good mood. Meaning of course, that he’ll get pet and fed soon. Yeah right! Anyway, my lesson is a private lesson. Just me a cute young female instructor. I don’t even know her but I’m headed out to “put my groove on”, whatever that means. So yes, I am a little nervous about, you know, sweat and stuff. All those what if I ……… things that can happen………So here I go. Wish me luck.

Wow! Learning to dance is the coolest! Who would believe that “old fumble feet” could dance? The music, a great teacher and a nice big room with a hardwood floor is all we needed. Never mind a missed step here and there, sweaty palms and the wrong shoes (thank goodness I was wearing socks that didn’t have holes in them). The lesson was a success. I remember when I was a kid, the twist was the dance of the day. Chubby was the man. In 5th grade a gal named Judy and I put the moves on and won a twisting contest. She would later be a high school cheerleader and class president and end up marrying one of my friends. Then, almost 40 years later we discovered we live in the same city. What a hoot to see her again. I wonder if she can Cajun dance? I should ask her. Yeah, I know, I’m getting way ahead of myself here. I’m just learning to dance, a mear rookie on the floor. I wonder if they serve booze at these dances? I might just need one to calm my nerves. So many gals to dance with and me, a beginner. I usually say that liquor always helps, you know, cures a multitude of ills, but I bet dancing will be all I can handle. Sorry Jack Daniels, you are being replaced for a night with some cute Cajun dancing ladies. We’ll check you later dude!

Recently, I made the trek to my mom’s place where the family was celebrating her 85th birthday. 85 years, a lot of memories there. And what, do you ask, does an 85 year old woman do to Par-Te on her birthday? Why anything she still can of course. There was eating, until you almost burst. Openig presents, which took forever. Telling stories, which took forever. Cleaning up, which took forever. Sending people home after helping them with their walkers, which took forever! (Are you feeling a pattern here?) I thought the evening would never end! Did I mention the picture taking? Yep! It took for-ev-er! Doesn’t anyone know she doesn’t have time for all of that?

And if I hear the story of my brother climbing out of the window and coming around to ring the front doorbell at 6 in the morning, naked of corse, just one more time, I think I’ll get him to do it again for everyone. Granted, he’s about 60 years older now, but at least there would be some decent entertainment! Good grief! What do you have to do to get some laughs these days?…. Why have a party of course. Just make sure there’s plenty of good booze. There was, thank you Lord !

His name is Oscar. He’s a 13 year old brown striped tabby. Poor guy doesn’t have much of a life. His master, that would be me, doesn’t give him alot of attention. Heck, my day starts at 5am and I don’t get to bed until 10pm so who’s got time for defiant cat? He’s not exactly trainable, you know? I’d say he’s lucky to have food, fresh water and a clean cat box.

Now you see, Oscar was not even my cat. An old boyfriend of my daughter gave her the cat for a Christmas present. He was just a kitten and we all know kittens are cute. I said “NO WAY” to adding another mouth to feed. The wife said “He’s soooo cute”, my son said “cool” and my daughter just loved him. The boy friend was history by New Years but the damage was done. We had another cat. My daughter and son have both married and moved away. Her new husband owns a large dog that kept her from taking the cat with her. Unfortunately my dear wife passed away. So just who do you think got stuck with the cat? Did I mention how spoiled this cat is? Nice of everyone to do that for me and then move out.

Now I know what you’re thinking, how much of a problem can one cat be? Here’s the deal, he has an assortment of ailments including, but not limited to, bladder, kidney, thyroid and a heart murmer with high blood pressure and the usual passing of blood. To date his vet bills have been over $2,000 ! How did I get so lucky to have this wonderful pet? I mean if it was a dog I could walk it and use it for a babe magnet. Ever seen a cat on a leash? Yeah right! The only babes I’d attract have 4 paws and some whiskers. MEOW! Good thing I drink. It helps me sleep while Oscar whines, meows, scratches my furniture, coughs up fur balls and scatters his food and water all over the house. You gotta love ‘em! Geeeezzzz!

Talk about your global warming! What exactly is a heat index anyway? When we were kids no one cared. Not about temperatures, humitity, or what ever some index said about our comfort level. We played baseball, and went swimming to cool off all summer long. We virtually lived outside from sunrise to sunset. It didn’t matter if you were young or not. There were plenty of retirees around in Florida and they dealt with the hot weather too. Our homes didn’t have A/C either. It is always hot down there from March until Christmas.

You have to wonder if the times have all turned us into whimps. All this talk about the planet heating up. Where was all the talk last winter when we had all the record breaking cold?

Then there’s the sunscreen thing. We had one brand in the 60s, Coppertone. It was probably a 2 rather than 75 or what ever the numbers are now. It had that familiar smell of the beach because that was the only place we used it. Man did we have great tans too! It’s for sure we’ve gone soft. It must have started with Mr. Whipple (or was it Whimple) and his Charmin commercials. Squeezibly soft it said. Now come on! What respectable male would go into a store and squeeze toilet paper? Now it’s true my dad used to bring home a two pack every time he went to the store. I think he started to panic everytime we had less tha 30 rolls in the house or something. I used to say it was because his family had an outhouse when he was a kid, but that’s a whole ‘nother story. But that squeezing thing, what a sissy. It was just the beginning. Now we’re all sissies and can’t take a little warm weather. Go have a cold beer and get over it!

Ever do something you’re told is good for you but turns out not to be? Yep! It’s happened again to me. The company wants us to collectively walk 2 million miles this year. I, myself walked over 700 hundred last year. For an insintive, you pay less on your company provided health care insurance if you participate and walk 320 miles this year. No sweat, right? I already have in almost 400 for 2010. Actually you don’t pay less, you have to pay more if you don’t. So it’s not really a bonus. So maybe it’s not really that good for you to walk. Here’s the real bummer. All the walking has helped me develop a condition called tendonitis. It’s a not so friendly soreness in my hip joints that will take a lifetime to control. In fact I have to have physical therapy to help with the pain. Guess what? My health care insurance that I don’t have to pay more on this year will only pay for some of it. Due to the fact that I have a high deductable it in fact pays for nothing! Zero. Now I ask you, does it sound like walking is good for me? Maybe I shouldn’t have insurance. I wouldn’t need to walk because I wouldn’t be concerned about a discount that I’m not really getting. I’ve got to pay for my doctor bills anyway until they total $750. So insurance premiums plus a deductable adds up to the poor house. Geeeezzz! How do you get a head anyway? I need a drink! I hear wine is good for you. Has to be better for you than walking. Yeah, that’s my story anyway.

The beach on Memorial Day weekend was just not the same in 2010. Crowds you say? not this year. Somehow there was still lots of traffic on the roads but no one ventured out to the beach. Oh there were the usual crusty old guys selling shrimp out of a camper/trailer, the shell hunters and walkers, and those carts filled with fishing rods for that one guy who is always there each morning, but not the crowds of families and their kiddies. You know, the ones that spend the money. Maybe this year the schools let out late. I doubt oil in the Gulf played a roll but you just can’t tell. I did see 2 older gentelmen with their metal detectors out, hoping to find that diamond ring dropped by some woman with the wealthy boyfriend. Sorry guys, she’s at the spa or the tennis court while you’re out here sweating on the beach. All you’ll ever find here is a bottle cap and a Canadian nickle or two. (What? Do you think Canadians don’t know they’re Canadian? I don’t know what politically correct even means. I just can’t imagine anything political that could be right. That whole scene is soooo wrong!)

I was visting with my main squeeze and her two sons, daughters-in-law and 3 really cool grandaughters. They were kind enough to let me spend a couple of days with them. Fortunately I secured a room at a nearby beach type motel to escape it all at night. The motel was a story in itself. A very sad story. We’ve all stayed there before, I just can’t believe I did it again. Did I mention the dog? Yeah, they brought the family dog as well. He was the best behaved of everyone, including yours truly. I’d give you a day by day of my experience but two days were nothing but driving in the car and the other days were a slow progression of little girls melting down, too much drinking and eating, and the smell of suntan lotion on burning human flesh. And then there was the continuous trek back and forth from house to waterside carrying chairs, coolers, toys, frizbees, noodles, books and what ever else we could find to load us down with. Then there was the heat. Always present, persistant hot air. Oh, and the sand and seaspray that sticks to every part of your body. Somehow it is always in the bathing suit. Don’t know how it gets there, it just does. After a while it reminds you why they make sand paper out of the stuff. The very rough kind. When we were out of the sun and not eating, it was puzzle time. Ever actually assembled a 1500 piece puzzle in 2 days? We did. It took all 6 of us adults but it was a success. The hard part was a rule I never heard of. You can only look at the picture on the box once, right before you start. I wouldn’t have believed it, we got that sucker together. Every last piece. I thought it was a really stupid rule, but I was wrong, again. Remember the other time? Right, when I picked out that sleezy motel. But all was saved! The food, the wine and assortment of other adult beverages and the company of a wonderful family all made for a relaxing couple of days. Mmmmm it was good booze. Thanks Dear, I had a great time! Can’t wait for next time….. Maybe in about 10 years. I’ll bring me a metal dectector.