Friday, March 29, 2013

God, Basketball, and Finish The Sentence Friday


I'm supposed to be writing a Finish the Sentence Friday offering. 

Instead, I'm watching a basketball game.

March Madness affects many people throughout the United States.  It is especially severe in those that have alma maters still in the contest. 

I attended Indiana University.  Throughout the season, they've been ranked as high as #1 for several weeks at a time.  Now, they're playing in the Sweet Sixteen against Syracuse.  My attention is seriously diverted.



I am experiencing emotional anger, glee, frustration, and hope … 
in a three to four second rotation.  It is Hell.

At the time of this writing, Indiana is not doing well.  They seem to have a difficult time putting the ball in the hoop, which is the primary goal of the game.  My anger continues.

Many wives, who are not into sporting contests, tend to believe that men watching sports is a complete waste of time.  Not so.  In fact, if you, as a wife, are in need of some quiet time to accomplish some of the things you've always wanted to do, there is no time like the present. We promise not to disturb you in the least.

My wife is working at this time.  
I hope she doesn't come home before the game is over.

It isn't that I don't love my wife.  After 33 years together, we have grown somewhat close.  She tends to tick me off at times, as I'm sure I do her, but we've learned to keep things in perspective.  That is, as long as she doesn't bother me during a college basketball game.

Not if she wishes to live to see another day.

I have killed chairs, hassocks, a lamp, and even an end table in the past during these events.  My cats, Faletame and Gabriela, have learned to seek solitude in the kitchen during games.  My wife, who should be easier to train, still doesn't get it.  She's a little slow, or perhaps, she just doesn't care.  She doesn't realize how close to death she may be.

When the referees are as bad as they are tonight in this game, especially when it comes to not calling fouls (easily seen) against Syracuse, my anger boils.  Not only is your team playing against their opponent, they're playing against the refs.  It's a hopeless situation for your team.  And one gets angrier and angrier.

It is not a time to hear about how some co-worker's kid at work had a bad day with the teacher, how all day was spent resetting the cosmetics, or how she almost bought something at the grocery store and had a really tough time deciding before putting it back.

Suddenly, the wife starts to look like one of the referees.  Her purple polo becomes black and white striped, and her voice as shrill as a whistle. 

Where's my gun?


Anyway, it's Finish the Sentence Friday blog hop time.  No, not finish the prison sentence, but the sentence, or prompt, that our hostesses provide us.   Hostesses?  Yes, hostesses!  These fine folks!

Today's prompt is ….

”If I could hang out with any celebrity, it would be…”

First, before I answer that, let's look at the definition of a celebrity:"one who is famous" according to The New International Webster's Standard Dictionary.   That's it.  No bylines.  No more descriptions.  Just "one who is famous."

If that's the case, let me say that the celebrity that I'd most like to hang with would be

GOD!

I would say that God is famous, wouldn't you?

So, let's say God and I could get together one afternoon.  The first thing that would need to be decided is what I could call him.

"Hey (Big Guy, Main Man, Kind and Gentle Omnipotency,  Your Holiness,  Super Wiz, Dad, Impregnator Divine, Burning Bush Talker, Sir), what's happening?"

Of course, with him knowing all, that could be a question that could take a millennium to answer.

"So, since we got some time together, what do you want to do?"

Something tells me, God is a basketball fan and probably wants to watch the rest of the game like I do.  Still, he knows the outcome already, so he may decide on something else.

"Want to go create another world somewhere?"

I have a feeling that would probably take more than the week's vacation time I'd have available, so we might pass on that one.

"How about we just sit and talk a while and you can tell me how you make some decisions?  Yes, I know I'm not supposed to question you or your wisdom.  But, you've got to lighten up the rules a little today … just for me … okay?"

So, what would I ask God?
  1. What really came first, the chicken or the egg?
  2. If man has been given common sense, why does he pay others tell him how to run his life?
  3. What really happened to the guy from Nantucket?
  4. Why do some people drive 45 mph in the fast lane on the interstate?
  5. Why do women always say, "I don't care" when you ask them a question?
  6. Why are I.R.S. auditors and proctologists so much alike?  (The deeper they search the more they find and the more it hurts.)
  7. Why is Sunday the first day of the week on all calendars, but the last day of the weekend?
  8. How do you know if you've found the end of the rainbow or the beginning?
  9. Why do Subway's "meal deals" total the same as if you bought everything at full price separately?
  10. If the people of religion demand world peace, why do the politicians continually start religious wars?
  11. Why do people think their car's glass windows keep people from seeing them pick their noses?
  12. How come men pick the new pope instead of him?
  13. Who ever came up with the concept of a bunny hiding eggs at Easter?
  14. How many vacancies are left in Heaven?

and, after tonight, the main one on my mind ….

Why are basketball referees blind on one end of the court 
and have 20/20 vision on the other? 

Is it because the network pays them to set up match ups 
that will bring in big time ratings?

Maybe we should be more like the Chinese and the way they treat their refs...

I'm sure God would get a chuckle out of that one.  I'm also sure he's not letting any referees into Heaven … and it serves them right!  

Anyway,  it would be kind of cool to hang out with the Big Guy for a week or so, although I don't imagine he'd have many smoking sections up there.  (I understand most of the smoke comes from the fires in another place.)  Although he'd have to admit, smoking definitely helped him populate the upper level quicker.

We could talk about important things, like:
  • Should the cast of Duck Dynasty really get $200,000 an episode?
  • How many laughs does he get from Politically Correct supporters?
  • Why doesn't he get pissed off when minority complaints keep the Christ out of Christmas?
  • Where's our 40 virgins at after we die?
  • Why are there ten hot dogs in a package and only eight buns in the other?
  • Why are there boy groups in Pop Music?
  • Why doesn't the Geico lizard ever shed his skin?
  • Was the Earth his first world created, or did he try elsewhere and messed it up?
  • If all men are equal, where do Cajuns and NYC Sportswriters fit in?

and

"Why can dogs lick themselves and we..." 
(…. okay, maybe not that one!)

I'm sure we'd each be a little happier when the visit was over.  I could go back to doing what I do and God could go back to doing his miracle stuff.  

And maybe … just maybe … if we're all real good, next year he might even create a batch of college basketball referees that could call a damn game halfway right!!!!!!!

Amen!

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Rambling Tuesday #2

Public Domain
It's time to ramble.

I just wrote an entire rambling blog about politicians that is sitting unpublished.


Why?

Because most of the people that read my blogs are not politically excited.


Actually, neither am I.

In fact, politics, as a topic, is rather boring.  Politicians do the same things, over and over, and believe that they are creating a show for the entertainment of all the voters.  The sad thing is ... none are being properly judged.

What if politicians were judged in accordance with the rules of television shows?

Can you see politicians ending an appearance, or speech, and being immediately graded by a panel of three or four judges?  No, not news analysts that make a living spreading even more El Toro defecation.  But, let's say that these judges were just ordinary people, like you or I.  People that actually had some brains, could see through the B.S., and properly analyzed what the politician had said.  Wouldn't that be a change?

Take, for instance, the recent discovery of how much money Vice President Biden spent for only two nights stay in Europe.
Public Domain

Judge #1 -  Cissy, the Blogger Goddess:
"Vice President Biden ... you say that your night in London was a public relations journey.  If so, how come most of the citizens of the United States never even heard about your overnight stay?  Isn't a good will tour supposed to be advertised so that people actually know that you're doing something besides sitting in your hotel room watching porno flicks?   Was that night really worth spending over $400,000 of the taxpayers money on the hotel.  That's a lot of those little drink bottles, wouldn't you say?  Sorry, you get a score of "2" for your efforts."


Library of CongressPrints and Photographs Division,
 
Photochrom Prints Collection

Judge #2  -  Bobby Joe Jenkins, the Redneck CPA:
"Vice President Biden ... are you serious?  You don't even speak French, yet you have the audacity to spend almost $600,000 for one night in Paris!!!  That's one hell of an expensive hooker!  Besides, who cares about the French?  Just a few years ago, we were calling French Fries "Freedom Fries" because the French wouldn't fake a war with us to go after Iraqi oil reserves that Chaney wanted.  And now, you're paying them outrageous sums of money to spend the night in a hotel room?  Damn it, man, don't you have a bed on the jet?  No way, Jose, I can't give you more than a score of "1" for this shamble!"

Judge #3  -  Flashinthepan, the Rapper:
"Hey V.P, now you listen to me,  
you can't spend my money on porno TV,
if ya gonna go to Europe to see the sights,
ya gotta find discounts where ya spend the nights.
Ya beat my record spending cash you see,
two nights overseas, cost over a million to me.
Yo dummy, don't do this sh*t no more,
Coz ya stupid all ya gets is a "1" for a score!"



If the politicians couldn't average at least an average accountability score of "7", out they go.  And, if either political party failed to have a total average score of at least "6", out the whole party goes.  Perhaps that would keep special interest voting to a minimum, and more concern on taking care of those that voted them into office in the forefront!

But, I just went political blog on you, didn't I?

Sorry ... I said I wasn't going to do that.  My apologies.


I know, I get a "5" for making an honest effort at explanations, plus "2" bonus points for honesty.  At least I'm still in the running.

I wonder how many politicians really run?  Not for office (because that's really not running, is it?  My friend Clark has wondered about that for years.), but actually put on the jogging shoes and hit the street.


Do you?

I remember the days when I ran five miles in the morning and five miles in the afternoon.  I preceded each run with Jumping Jacks, 50 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and 100 four count toe touches.  I had a body that was trim, six packed, and energetic.


Makes me tired just typing about it now.

I've recently started walking at least two miles, twice a day.  The Winter wind makes one's pace quicken somewhat.  I'd like to say that it gives me time to think.  However, the only thing I'm thinking about is getting it over so that I can get back inside where it's warm.  If I continue this throughout the Summer, I imagine the only thing I'll think about is getting back inside of an air conditioned building where it's cool.

So much for thinking!

Perhaps thinking is over rated.  Much like the Big East Conference was in the NCAA Men's Basketball Tourney.

Other news items this week:



  1. The $338 million dollar Powerball jackpot was won by an immigrant from the Dominican Republic that had to speak to reporters in Spanish.  (Maybe now he'll have enough money to learn how to speak the native language of the country he calls home.)
  2. Wal-Mart has sued workers and their union for protesting for better working conditions.  The company says it disrupts working processes.  (In other words, get back to the sweat shop and stop bitching.  Otherwise, we'll let you go to Dollar Tree and see how you like working there.)
  3. It's been discovered that 1 in 4 car seats are being used incorrectly.  This has resulted in it becoming a major factor in causing car deaths in children between 1 and 13 years of age.  (You gotta be kidding!  What 13 year old ever gets put in a car seat?  "Yo, mom, let's go to the doctor's office so I can get my birth control pills ... and, are you sure my car seat is fitting properly?")
  4. 28 prisoners are now participating in a hunger strike at Guantanamo Bay.  They are protesting more cell searches and security cameras that record their every move.  (O'bama has hinted that if this progresses, the money saved on food may be used to start up the White House tours again.)
  5. A 75 year tradition of having toll takers will end for the Golden Gate Bridge as they go 
    http://www.projectrich.com/gallery
    completely to electronic toll takers.  (Now, the $6 toll will be taken completely electronically via pre-paid ticket or by charging your license plate.  So, if you haven't been to California and you receive a bill in the mail, just remember, the Rice-A-Roni police are everywhere!)

Well, that's going to do it for this week's rambling.  My brain is dry, and so is my throat.  Hopefully, will see you next week!  Till then,


Ramble On, My Friend!

Friday, March 22, 2013

FTSF: The Wheelie and Walker With Wheels


God, is it Friday already?

Getting older is Hell!

It is becoming clear that I can no longer live on only 4 hours of sleep a night.  I’m frustrated that this stage of my life has arrived.

Now, I have to waste at least 6 hours a night to feel good the next day.

Otherwise, my walker with wheels gets too heavy to roll down the hill.

No, I really don’t have a walker with wheels.  I’ve thought about getting one, just so people don’t get mad at me when I park in handicapped parking spaces.

No, although I’ve been tempted many times, I really don’t park in handicapped parking spaces.  That was just an attempt at a witty remark.

However, I usually notice those who do.  It tends to irritate me to see people, or teenagers, who are not handicapped, park in these spaces.  

Yesterday, I watched six teenagers exit a car parked in one of these spaces.  It was evident none of them were handicapped.   I also noticed they were so bold that they had failed to raise up one of the windows.

Once again, I was tempted.  I considered reaching inside to steal the blue placard hanging from the mirror that allowed the teenagers to park in the space legally.  I began to justify the act more and more.

But then I wondered, “What if they stole the car?  

I mean, what if they stole the car simply because it had a handicapped placard hanging from the mirror, and they knew they could get a great parking space at the mall?  To do such a thing would obviously be the act of some desperate criminals.  What if they were the type to shoot me if they came out and caught me stealing the placard?”

Is stealing a handicapped placard from a bunch of maniacal teenagers worth dying for?

So, instead, I grabbed a half empty 32 oz. cup of Mountain Dew that had been sitting in my cup holder for a couple of days, loosened the lid, walked by their car, and dropped the cup in the driver’s seat.

I felt much better.  Plus, I had gotten rid of the cup of Mountain Dew before it had seeped out of the soaked cup into my cup holder.


I like being efficient.


Today is FTSF once again.  


If you don’t know what FTSF is, it’s “Fondle Toto’s Slimy Fur” day!


Okay, it’s really not that.   It’s “Find The Single Female” day!


Just joking.  FTSF stands for “Fibbers Tell Stories Forever” day!


One more time …

It’s Finish The Sentence Friday!

This is the day our hostesses



provide us a prompt and we finish the line with a phenomenal story about one of our past lives.  We might travel back into the land of the dinosaurs … the era of the gladiators … the conquering of the Wild West … or the castration of real men decade (formerly known as the 80’s).

Today’s prompt is: 


”One time when I was bored out of my mind, I…


(This is where we’re supposed to finish it … so get ready … )


Are you ready, yet?

How about now?

Okay, here we go …


One time when I was bored out of my mind, 
I decided to be totally creative in a different manner.  

The problem was figuring out the different manner!

So, I sat back in my favorite recliner, put my feet up, and decided that I needed to think about it a while.

Suddenly, I was back in my childhood.  I had my bike, a Stingray (big handlebars, banana seat, and small wheels) atop a tremendous hill.  I had just got it, and was ready to try my first wheelie!  The anticipation of roaring down the hill at full speed was tremendous.


This was going to be 
my moment!

I pushed off and headed down the hill.  Faster and faster I pedaled.  The wind was thundering in my ears as I reached Mach 5 speed.  I could no longer pedal with any effectiveness.  There was no resistance from my efforts as the bike was traveling at the speed of light.


Now was the time.

I pulled up and back at the handlebars.  The front wheel rose off the road without any problem … higher and higher!  I was doing a wheelie!

I just wish someone would of told me there is a point where you want to balance out your weight instead of continuing to pull backwards.

When one is traveling at the speed of light, and the back wheel of the bike suddenly shoots in front of the front wheel, the human body finds itself with no where to sit … except the road.   That would have been a nice option.

Instead, my feet were the first part of me to hit the road.  The motion of the bike pulled me forward into a prone position as my stomach and knees were dragged down a blacktop road by a bike that I refused to let go of.  

Now, being dragged down a road on one’s stomach is not the greatest way to end one’s first attempt at doing a wheelie.  However, I didn’t have much choice in the matter.

Three miles later, the bike finally came to a rest.  That was when I first noticed another first in my life.  It was the first time I’d ever had the wind knocked out of me.  
Very similar to the type of road the accident occurred on,
except there was much more hot tar bubbling in the hot sun.

Bleeding from multiple tar covered gravel blacktop rock cuts, I rose and started coughing.  Where was the air that was supposed to be inside my body?  I gasped and wheezed and finally located from where it had been hiding.  


What the Hell?  
I was doing 
a wheelie, not playing 
Hide And Seek!

It was then the pain set in.  Cut from my chin, down my torso, and ending at my knees, I will admit, the kid in me decided that crying might be the thing to do.  If nothing else, perhaps the tears would soothe the burning I was experiencing from all the cuts.

Of course, upon getting home, my father’s primary concern was the condition of the bike.  He was somewhat upset over a few of the scratches it had received in the melee, but I guess he figured that his words were punishment enough … along with the 1700 rock cuts I’d sustained.

Do you have any idea how much 1700 rock cuts can hurt 
when being washed out with alcohol?

It was then when I awoke in the recliner.  Why I had dreamed about this childhood experience was beyond me.  I had never thought about it since it had occurred.  Yet, once again, I had experienced it as if it had happened only yesterday.


Oh, and I never did figure out how to be totally creative in a different manner.


But, I did catch a nice nap!

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Monsters And Maniacs, Could You Be One?



Does evil hold your attention?

Do you find yourself drawn to watching graphic movies and documentaries that you know will create a problem with your sleeping habits?

Why do you watch them?

Do you want to be frightened?  Do you seek to experience the adrenalin rush that fear and evil provides?  Or, is it that your curiosity pulls you towards the morbid, or dark side of life?

You know, the type of evil violence your parents always warned you
might happen if you didn't get home before dark!

I'm not talking of stories of werewolves and vampires ripping the throats out of their victims. 

I leave those to Kristen Stewart!

Instead, real blood, gore, and mayhem that real life crazies provide.  True life tales of surviving the maniacal assaults of desperate madmen who kill for either the twisted, psychological thrill of holding the power of death in their hands, or because they think it necessary for them to escape possible imprisonment.

U.S. Army Sniper.
Public Domain Photo
Sound like someone you know?


Since the dawn of time, people have been killed for many reasons.  Wealth, power and religion have ended the lives of millions.  Wars have been fought to justify the insane greed of rulers who wanted to own it all.  Of course, most of the rulers had armies do the majority of the killing for them.  Does that make it right?



If so, how big does the army 
have to be?

CHARLES MANSON
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:
Flickr_upload_bot
Charles Manson had an army of sorts.  They called it the "family".  We all know the story.   His reason wasn't money ... it was power.  


How far would you go
 to become Top Dog?

Is there an internal desire inside of you that lingers ... holding a deep grudge for someone that inflicted either tremendous physical or mental injury to you in times passed?  Would you like to see them suffer under the hands of a professional torture expert?  Would their screams of agony satisfy your desires, or would you want them to suffer the affects of a razor slicing layer after layer of skin off of every limb of their body, with death as a final result?


No, I'm not advertising for business.  
That's not my line of work.

I'm only curious how far you would really go? (It's always nice to know one's friends, lol.) Would anger and desperation allow you to proceed beyond the realm of social conditioning, or would you recognize your actions and allow guilt to cease them prior to completion?

I’d prefer you not answer that question.  One never knows who may be watching.  
Especially with tags like this blog is going to have.  (lol)

Sunbathing in the Bahamas ...
could you do what it takes to get there?
This file is licensed under the Creative Commons 
Could you kill for money?

Not the convenience store clerk for $36 type of money, but the huge amounts we only dream of.  Five, ten, twenty million dollar type of amounts.   Could you do it?  Would you do it?   How desperate would you have to be?

Just think ... life in the Bahamas ... daily sunbathing on the beautiful white sand beaches ... tropical drinks in hand ... living the life of luxury.  Why, there's even cabana boys and girls to service your personal needs exactly the way you like them serviced.   



I sense your breathing is getting shallow and faster just thinking about it.  
Easy now!  Slow down!

Could you do it?  


Would you be able to plan it out like the Colorado assassin did in the theater last year?  Could you simply burst inside and start shooting like he did?  Something like 22 people were killed.  Now, because of his careful, advance planning, an insanity plea has been filed on behalf of the accused.  


Yet, in the actions of a sane person, he:
  1. intricately planned out the crime, 
  2. ordered and purchased all the weapons, 
  3. preceded the act by requesting mind doctor assistance (minimally, I might add), 
  4. meticulously set complicated booby traps in his apartment, 
  5. costumed himself to project an image of insanity,
  6. hid his insanity so well that his "mind doctor" mother couldn't detect it, and
  7. timed his entrance perfectly for the first action scene in the movie.  
However, we're now supposed to believe that this person was insane.  Many still believe this intelligent young man did it to simply prove he could beat the system.  And, he just might!
Could you do it as well?

Could you play the Norman Bates role as convincingly as Anthony Perkins?

Or, will you become the Janet Leigh character in the next hotel you stay?
Many that would like to be on the jury in this person's trial.  Most feel as though he planned this act as a personal power challenge to see if he could outsmart the system and get away with it.  Many have stated they would love to give him the death penalty.  
In a way, isn't that killing?   

Or, is it the religious philosophy of an eye for an eye?

Nothing like religion to bring about 
a peaceful solution, is there?


So, how about you?  What would it take to get you to kill?  Think about it for a second.  Don't think you could do it?  

Well, what if:
  1. your children were being attacked?
  2. you were experiencing a violent home invasion?
  3. you were walking home and were attacked by a maniac or a gang?
  4. you were bullied without mercy for years?
  5. you were watching a shooter fire round after round at a playground?
 Still don't think you do it?  

Maybe you ought to think about it.

Given the right circumstances, we all could.  
That’s right ... the lady in the grocery store that keeps stopping in front of you could be ready to snap and attack you with a can of creamed corn. Or, how about the convenience store clerk that has gone off the deep end and is ready to drown you in artificial coffee creamer?    Maybe, that guy tailgating you the black Honda CR-Z has a vendetta against Prius drivers and is searching for his next victim.  Perhaps, even the school principal is awaiting the next parent / teachers conference to get back at all the idiots that can't raise children properly! (I might join them if that were the case, lol.)
Are you getting closer to going over the edge, too?  
Do you even know how close you really are?
Could the fear you feel while watching the movies and documentaries be tempting you to become one of the players instead of the watchers?   Could your quest for adrenalin drive you closer and closer to the edge?  Is the video game you're playing be the conditioning tool you need to see life only as a 500 point score?  Could you be the next one we’re watching the documentary about?  


What would it take?



*** Disclaimer:  This is a post to simply make you think a little.  I had originally intended to make this blog post much more humorous.  However, in attempting to do so, I found it either not fitting well, sounding somewhat too lighthearted, and less meaningful.  The sarcasm added is to allow some of the tension a chance to escape, but still, the final question, "What would it take?" is one that does require much internal soul searching.  The answer isn't easy, nor one that we wish to find.  Yet, in today's world, may be a necessary evil to discover.  Peace!


Tuesday, March 19, 2013

It's Tuesday, So It Must Be Rambling Time!


Over the last three days, I've written four blogs ... and published none of them.


Why?

Because I'm getting long winded in my old age.  (Okay, so you already knew that.  Sometimes, the writer is the last to know.)

I usually write my blogs in Microsoft Word and then copy and paste them, adding the pictures afterwards.  However, when I find myself at four pages, and not yet halfway done, I have to ask myself, "Will this hold an Internet audience?"

Inevitably, I have to say, "No, it won't."

So, I have two options.  Either publish it knowing that I'm not going to be read, or not publish it and have the blog go unnoticed.  

Just what every writer wants!  That's like being a baker and people not eating your cake.  Or, being a home builder and seeing the homes stay empty.  Or, being a porno actor and not ... well, use your imagination.

So, instead of keeping the blog bare (okay, stop thinking about the porno's now), I've decided to ramble.  I've yet to decide about what to ramble.  That's the nice thing about rambling ... you don't have to plan in advance ... you just ramble.

Nat King Cole had a big hit in the early 60's called "Ramblin' Rose" that everybody loved.  I never could figure it out.  Was a rose actually rambling?  And, if so, what would a rose ramble about?
"Hey, let's talk awhile about thorns.  I love my thorns.  In fact, I love my thorns so much that I try to make them bigger and bigger.  They keep dumbasses from picking me, smelling me, and tossing me away!  Of course, there's always the dummy in love that doesn't see that I have thorns.  I laugh my petals off when the prick sticks his fingers with my thorny stickers.  So, I guess you could say my thorny stickers stick the horny pickers!"  
I really don't think Nat King Cole was thinking about that when he sang the song.



Could it be that Rose is a female that constantly prattles?  
"My husband ... oh, my husband ... he's such a hard working schmuck!  He works hard at not working!  I say, "Leonard, just go to work and get the job done.  We need the money!"  And he looks at me and says, "Rose, I'm not feeling well today.  I think I'm going to stay home."  I say, "HOME!  HOME!  I don't want cha at home.  I want cha at work!  I want to stay home and don't want cha around.  You think I want cha to give whatever you've got to me?!?!  You gotta be kidding!  Go to work and give it to that schmuck of a boss you've got!  The one that won't give you a raise!  Make him sick!"
No, I don't think Nat had that in mind either.  Perhaps I should go back and listen to the song again ... one day ... and spend more time trying to figure it out.   Nawwwwww!

Anyway, I was sitting here thinking about all that's gone on in the last week and questioning some of the latest news items.



  1. If the Pope is a direct representative to God, why are men choosing him?  Shouldn't God send a sign or something?  I'd be looking for the guy walking around with the flashing cloud following him, wouldn't you?  And, now the new pope is Pope Francis.  The last Francis I remember was 'Francis the Talking Mule" from movie fame in the 50's.   
  2. If two high school kids rape an underage teenage girl that's so drunk she can't remember what happened, where were the parents?  "Sure, my dear, I understand that you're underage.  But, as a parent, I hope you get totally wasted and enjoy all the delinquencies life offers!  Just don't throw up on the carpet when you get home."
  3. If the government finances are so bad that the White House has to stop the public tours, why is John Kerry allotting Egypt over 200 million dollars in aid?  I guess the pyramids will still be able to keep their tour guides with that cash!
  4. If North Korea poses such a nuclear threat to us, why don't we volunteer to send more overpaid NBA basketball players there to negotiate?  Dennis Rodman obviously did such a good job, just imagine what a few more of these under educated, overpaid millionaires could do.  Before you would know it, the North Korean leaders would be so busy fighting in the stands, they wouldn't have time to escalate war possibilities.
  5. Who really cares if Julianne Hough and Ryan Seacrest broke up?  She used him to get ahead, and he used her to get a head.  That's what they do in Hollywood, isn't it?
So much for the news.  It's really just as ridiculous as always.  Common sense takes a back seat and loses its virginity, just like at the drive-in movies in the 60's.  (No wonder Elvis flicks were so popular then ... no one watched them but the drive-ins were filled with young girls fantasies and young boys efforts to complete them.)


One of my blogs that remains unpublished was about the differences in life from decade to decade over the last 50 years.  I started it in the 60's, as I was only 6 years old when the 50's ended.  I concluded that my first six years really didn't make me an expert on that decade, unless it was filled with measles, pets, using an outhouse, and having an operation.  Of course, I remember TV shows like "The Texas Rangers", "Rin Tin Tin", "Zorro" and "Hopalong Cassidy", but no one else does.  No need to talk about them then.  I'm thinking about making it a weekly series, even knowing that many weren't around until many decades later.  Let me know what you think about it in the comments.

Another is a strange topic that I'm working on making shorter and more humorous.  I'm almost afraid to publish another cerebral piece after just having done the "Secrets" one last week, so it may be a week or two in coming.  

Nothing like getting commercials about coming attractions, is there?

Well, that's it for this Rambling Tuesday feature.  I could ramble on and on, but one must know where the Internet limits are.  I will do my best to participate in FTSF this week.  Last week, I was just too wiped out to even try.  Work is a killer of creativity at times, and 11 hour days don't help.  

Again, my apologies to all of you that follow my writings, but seldom see me at yours.  I do my best, but have recently found myself sleeping in the recliner immediately after eating my evening meal around nine p.m.   I'll try to do better.

Keep smiling and writing!  The two go well together.  So do we.  

See you next time!



Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Secrets!


Secrets!  Secrets!    
Who knows a great secret?


Do you?

What is it!   No, don't tell me.  If you did, it wouldn't be a secret!  Unless I promised not to tell, that is.  Then, it would still be a secret ... wouldn't it?  Or, would it?

Are you still keeping a secret that you promised never to tell years ago?  


Why?

Is it something that you're embarrassed to tell?  Or, is it simply better that no one knows about it?  Could it harm you in adult life?  Or, is it something you've done as an adult that you don't want your spouse to know about?

Did you mess around on your spouse?  Did you lie to them about something else?  Did you use someone else as an example at the dinner table just to see what type of reaction your spouse would express?


Was it really that bad?

Or, is it a secret you will carry to your grave with you?  Is it so horrendous that you're afraid your entire family will disown you for doing?  If so, how do you live with yourself?  Isn't it eating you alive as it slowly creeps toward exposure, only to be shoved back inside time after time?

Would it put you in jail if known?  Would the authorities come bursting down the door to handcuff you and carry you off to the slammer for years?  Or, would the judge simply laugh about it, give you a token fine, and send you on your way?

Everyone keeps temporary secrets annually.  It's called not telling what you bought someone for Christmas.  Are you good at hiding it inside?  Or, when questioned, does your face give the answer away?  


So, are you good at keeping the secrets, or not?  Would a spotlight and rubber hose get information out of you, or would it take the old bamboo shoots under the fingernails to get the job done?  

Are you a member of the Mafia?  Can't tell?  So, if you can't tell me you are, you must be ... right?  


Don't tell me, 
I'm sure you'd have to kill me if you did.

Secrets are only told on a need to know basis ... or, are they?   Is telling a secret something that is done out of spite, or is it a power hang-up?  ("I know something you don't.")   Or, do you simply decide that it no longer matters to anyone and spew it out for the hell of it?  


If it no longer matters, what made it so important before?

Is our life ruled by the secrets we hide deep within?  Do our actions today revolve around the secrets we've kept hidden in the past?  Do we avoid areas of life that we've visited before, only to find ourselves too weak to resist what they offer?


Or, is it simply a secret you'd rather not tell?

I remember having secrets in my youth.  My mother once decided that I needed to take cold pork and bean sandwiches for school lunches.  I hated them and refused to eat them.  Yet, I could find no way to dispose of them with the teacher's eyes constantly on me.  So, I'd wait until I got off the school bus and stuff them into a drain in front of the house.

My father discovered them one day.  My secret had been found out!  It seemed even the stray dogs and cats in the area didn't like pork and bean sandwiches.  My mother, after getting over the anger and hurt, finally decided that lunch meat might get eaten.  It was a turning point in my school lunch life.

On Classmates.com, I've discovered several girls had crushes on me in high school.  They finally decided that keeping these childhood secrets didn't do them any good back then and really didn't matter much to them today.  So, they've confessed.

I wish I would've known back then.  My life might have been completely different.

Which leads to the question, "Does keeping secrets change the directions of life for those not only keeping the secrets, but those whom from the secrets are kept?"

Could keeping these secrets be a negative in the spectrum of life?  Could the childish and selfish minds that seek to keep the knowledge solitary be hindering the options of the happiness that life could offer?


Or, could it be better that we don't know everything?  

Do you know?

Or, is it a secret?


 (Here's your chance to get a deep, dark secret off your chest.  Just comment below!)