Hear Me Roar

My wife took the Boy to school this afternoon. Yeah, we don't panic bout no stinking flu. Anyway, on the way there the Boy kept up his usual running monologue. Part of it went like this:

"Mommy, have you noticed that there are a lot of mailmen in this world? Yep a lot of mailmen... but there's just one me."

The Pigs Come Home To Wallow

Hey, welcome to Swine central. We just had an elementary school close in our little hamlet after a second confirmed case of Swine flu in students at the school. The current discussion in town is the possibility of closing all the schools. The county officials appear to be in freakout mode.

It ain't "someplace else" anymore.

Florida's New Plate = FAIL

Florida Governor Crist has approved this new license plate for the Sunshine State.

It doesn't matter where you stand on whether a state should be putting Christ on a license plate, the image of a religion's saviour at the moment of his crucifixion loses some of its power when you slap a giant navel orange behind it.

Maude Dead

Bea Arthur died this weekend. Hey, she was 86. RIP Bea.



Bea Arthur and Rock Hudson sing the praises of illicit substances... seriously.

Checking In

Well, since we're all gonna die from swine flu I figure I should check in. All is well. The Baby is delightful - smiles, chats, and rolls over at eight weeks. The Boy and Girl, despite a bout with a virus (not the deadly swiner) this week, are back to their loud and over the top selves. The lawyer has been retained regarding the tree roots (die insurance companies, die). The weather began the week ridiculously hot (97) but has now moderated, so I'm back to fleece. Our dear friends (Sarah & Mike) just delivered a baby yesterday (welcome to the world, Nixi). Schindler's List is funnier than I remembered it being (the first hour at least). We are finally doing our will (swiney motivation). Following World War II, an International War Tribunal tried for war crimes Japanese soldiers accused of waterboarding American GIs and those found guilty were hanged. And for those of you with bets down in the reunion pool, the old, estranged buddy who contacted me last week out of the blue saying we should chat has yet to be heard from again.

That should do it. Wash your hands, wear a mask, and cancel Cabo.

I Couldn't Agree More

George Bush, Official Proclamation, June 26, 2003 : "I call on all governments to join with the United States and the community of law-abiding nations in prohibiting, investigating, and prosecuting all acts of torture and in undertaking to prevent other cruel and unusual punishment."

Texas Won't Go Away

Despite TX governor Perry's claims, according to a poll, only 18% of texans want to secede. The other 82% apparently have a vague recollection of high school history classes and the sad results for those that last opted to go it alone (I believe it was a pretty decent ass whoppin). Oh, and the last ones to drop the secession bomb did so over slavery and states' rights; the current batch seem to feel strongly about... an economic stimulus package?

Obama, duly elected, hasn't even been in office 3 months and these morons want to take their ball and go home. My 4 year old whines less when he doesn't get his way.

The Cost Of Teabagging

"A quiet, solo protest against massive federal government spending ended in a city woman being rescued from the cold waters of the Susquehanna River on Wednesday morning.

Joanne Millard, 68, a resident at Riverfront Apartments, slipped on a rock and then fell into the water while dumping tea leaves from a plastic bag into the river to protest the recent trillions of dollars in government spending."

- The Daily Item

Another reason to never teabag alone. Always use the buddy system.

Octomom™

Hey the Octomom has applied for a tradmark on the term, "Octomom", to use for her television show, as well as a line of baby clothing and diapers. As my wife said, "If she's successful at least we might not have to pay for the kids."

Brando & Cox

This post is prompted by a prurient little item I came across this morning. I am stunned I had never heard this before. Forgive me if it's old news to you. Though I initially assumed it was an odd joke, I discovered that it was indeed true and thus, immensely sad and tragic.

Incongruous as it appears on the surface, it seems Marlon Brando and Wally Cox (Mr. Peepers) were lifelong lovers. They had known one another from the time they were both nine. They became roommates in New York at the beginning of their respective careers and their relationship continued through their lives. Brando once said of Cox, "If Wally had been a woman, I would have married him and we would have lived happily ever after." Cox only moved out because, the story goes, he couldn't stand Brando's pet raccoon any longer.

When Cox died suddenly in 1973 of a heart attack at age 48 Brando reportedly snuck into the wake being held at Cox's home. He climbed in Cox's bedroom window and refused to leave the room. Under the guise of intending to scatter Cox's ashes in the hills where the two of them used to go rock hunting, Brando instead kept Cox's ashes in his bedroom until he died. Cox's widow threatened to sue Brando for their return but never went through with the threat. Brando told Time magazine he talked to the ashes every night.

Despite Brando's marriages and many children, Cox remained his one true love to the extent that, according to Brando's son Miko, when Brando died in 2004 and his ashes were scattered in Death Valley Cox's ashes were co-mingled with them. Said Miko of the scattering, "It seemed right."

Said a family friend, "Wally was the big love of Marlon’s life."

At least they have eternity.

A Cluck From The Darkness

One of the very first posts I ever made to this little record was a rather long indulgence into friendship called, The Rooster and the Chicken. In it I described the Boy's fickleness in the application of the "my Best Friend" appellation. I also described my best friends including my oldest best friend with whom I had become estranged after thirty years for no apparent reason - he had simply stopped answering my calls and emails. Our last conversations a year earlier had mystified me by their cold abruptness. The final straw for me had been when I discovered by accident that he and his wife had moved to whereabouts unknown months earlier. It was sad, confusing and utterly out of character for him.

The night before last we had guests visit from out of town. One of them has maintained contact with this old pal "J" throughout the estrangement by means of a fantasy football league of which "J" is the Commish. My guest was entirely unaware of the estrangement when he told me that in the middle of the draft for the playoffs last December "J" just stopped contact and as a result the league, which has a twenty year history, imploded. My guest asked if I knew what was going on with "J" and I told him I had no idea and explained the circumstances, which he found more than a little odd.

That conversation prompted a long text convo I had with Curry yesterday morning regarding "J". I described the situation to him in detail. I told him how "J" and I had never gone more than a week without contact, usually a couple of hours on the phone (sometimes as long as 8 or 10 hours), and so the complete disappearance was without precedence. Curry agreed it was quite strange.

Well, in a moment of cosmic weirdness the likes of which I have rarely experienced, yesterday evening, out of the blue, I got an email. It arrived not at my regular email account but to my crap - send the junk - account. The subject line was "Greer?" and the email read:

Dude,

Was registering on the SHS Reunion page and now see you have a "Greer" listed. Congrats!! How's it going out there? We should have a chat. Call me or let me know a good time to call.

J

That was it - not a word regarding his whereabouts. Nothing at all regarding the nearly three years of unanswered calls, emails, letters. Not a thing regarding the fact that he moved nearly two years ago without informing me of a new address or phone number. Nothing to explain his utter disappearance from the radar. And the "Call me" request seems entirely oblivious of the fact that he has a new number to which I have never been privy. I even sensed a slight indignation that he had not been informed regarding our latest child, even though the birth announcement, like the Christmas cards before it, had landed back in our mailbox - "Return to Sender - addressee unknown."

The timing of yesterday's email after two years of silence, and especially following the conversations with my guest and Curry, noodled this one right into the twilight zone.

What had been a sad, disturbing mystery, has now become outright bizarre.

Oh, and the whole "Dude" thing - what is up with that?

addendum: I forwarded the email and my reponse to Curry yesterday. Curry said, based on everything that's happened, I probably won't hear from him and then one day I'll get an email that will read:

"Dude, Hope you're having a happy new year. Can you believe it's 3026 already?!?!"

Douchenozzle Of The Week

Texas State Representative, Betty Brown, said on Tuesday during House testimony on a voter ID law that Asian-Americans should change their names because they're too hard for us to pronounce.

“Rather than everyone here having to learn Chinese — I understand it’s a rather difficult language — do you think that it would behoove you and your citizens to adopt a name that we could deal with more readily here?” Brown said.

Brown later told [Organization of Chinese Americans representative Ramey] Ko: “Can’t you see that this is something that would make it a lot easier for you and the people who are poll workers if you could adopt a name just for identification purposes that’s easier for Americans to deal with?”

She is refusing to apologize.

Winner!!!

The Root Of The Problem

Our house is moving. It's headed west. With us in it. Our neighbor's Ash tree has invaded our space and the roots are moving our home. Two weeks ago the neighbor's insurance company hired an arborist to trench the east side of our home to see if what we all knew was true. The trench proved it. The mass of roots is substantial and is pushing our home. There is a lot of damage (big - really big - money).

So two weeks go by and not one word. Today I call that insurance company and and speak to the world's greatest Insurance Company Douchenozzle. He told me that they have the arborist's report and that they have decided that they have no legal responsibility for the damage. They aren't paying. In his words: "Your sprinklers invited the roots to your property." Really, he said that.

Two weeks ago he had also told the arborist not to fill in the trench until they told him to because they didn't want to pay him to dig it twice. It has been there ever since. So last night it poured rain. A pile of dirt from the trench was blocking a downspout. The water had nowhere to go, which led to a flooding of my garage. When I told Mr. Insurance Douchnozzle this he said the arborist has insurance that would pay for that and I should speak to the arborist.

Needless to say the arborist wasn't pleased with that remark. The arborist also told me that as he was preparing the report, the Insurance Douchnozzle let it slip that they were looking for any way to weasle out of the responsibility. Oh and the whole "sprinkler invite" thing? The arborist told me that even though that was the funniest thing he'd heard in a long time, it was bullshit all the same.

When I said gooodbye today to the Insurance Douchnozzle I told him he was the exact reason why they invented attorneys.

Sadly this is gonna get ugly and time-consuming. We like our neighbors. Their insurance company though...

Oh and while discussing the trench with Insurance Douchnozzle, I queried him about when he intended to let the arborist know that it could now be filled. He told me I should call the arborist myself about getting it done - they weren't paying to have it filled. Seriously, this is what the man said. When I countered that it was his hole - he wanted it dug, he told me that it was dug with my permission on my property so that means it's mine.

Do they have a special school for these guys?