HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Happy Thanksgiving to all youse peeps from the peeps at the House by the Parkway.

At the moment, I am too lazy/tired/uninspired to write anything that requires even moderate lifting. That means it’s a perfect time to pick up on a meme that I saw at Elisson’s place. I see that Eric has also been of like mind.

It’s called “The 100 Life Experiences Meme,” and my job is to signify the life experiences I have had by indicating them in boldface.

I know you’re all sitting on the edge of your chairs waiting for this. So, without further ado, here we go:

1. Started your own blog
Easy one. You’re reading it.

2. Slept under the stars

3. Played in a band
Several. For many years.

4. Visited Hawai’i
Twice. Aloha!

5. Watched a meteor shower

6. Given more than you can afford to charity

7. Been to Disneyland
DisneyWorld, actually. Twice. I assume that counts.

8. Climbed a mountain
Never had the desire.

9. Held a praying mantis
Very carefully, because when I was a kid, we were told if you killed one, you’d go to jail. I also believed that politicians were honest.

10. Sang a solo
I’m a regular farookin’ Elvis.

11. Bungee jumped

12. Visited Paris
I hear there is dogshit all over the sidewalks and lots of people with B.O.

13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
Saw one from the air once. Pretty scary.

14. Taught yourself an art from scratch

15. Adopted a child

16. Had food poisoning

17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
Happy to say my mother made me do it when I was a squirt.

18. Grown your own vegetables
Jersey ‘Maters. Finest kind.

19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
I’ll check her out when she comes to Jersey.

20. Slept on an overnight train
On the “Champion” from Newark to Miami Beach, when I was a kid. Everyone slept in their seats, though.

21. Had a pillow fight

22. Hitchhiked

23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill

24. Built a snow fort

25. Held a lamb

26. Gone skinny dipping

27. Run a marathon
Did a half marathon once.

28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
Rode in a ’55 Buick Convertible. Sort of the same. Maybe not.

29. Seen a total eclipse

30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
Both.

31. Hit a home run

32. Been on a cruise
Five or six. I’ve lost count.

33. Seen Niagara Falls in person

34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
No, but I would like to.

35. Seen an Amish community
Bought some outrageous apple butter.

36. Taught yourself a new language
Actually wrote a letter once in Italian. I know what “stronzo” and “cazzo” mean.

37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied

38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person

39. Gone rock climbing
I’d rather clean toilets.

40. Seen Michelangelo’s David

41. Sung karaoke
Several times. Knocked ‘em dead on the cruise ship.

42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt

43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant

44. Visited Africa
Absolutely no desire to visit Africa.

45. Walked on a beach by moonlight

46. Been transported in an ambulance

47. Had your portrait painted

48. Gone deep sea fishing
Nice boat ride, interrupted by fishing (feh!). I didn’t puke.

49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person

50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris

51. Gone SCUBA diving or snorkeling
Went snorkeling once in Hawaii. I would just as soon not see what the hell I’m swimming with.

52. Kissed in the rain

53. Played in the mud

54. Gone to a drive-in theater
Back in the day, one bragged about having been thrown out of the drive-in. 😉

55. Been in a movie

56. Visited the Great Wall of China

57. Started a business
If a band counts, then yes.

58. Taken a martial arts class

59. Visited Russia
Nyet.

60. Served at a soup kitchen

61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
Who with a daughter has not sold Girl Scout Cookies?

62. Gone whale watching
I’m happy to leave them alone.

63. Got flowers for no reason

64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
Yeah. I’ve got a pretty rare blood type, so for a while I felt used, abused and half drained.

65. Gone sky diving
Q: What falls from the sky? A: Bird shit and idiots.

66. Visited a Nazi concentration camp
Yes. Dachau. I think everyone should visit one to remind one’s self of how unbelievably heartless and cruel people are capable of being.

67. Bounced a check

68. Flown in a helicopter

69. Saved a favorite childhood toy

70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial

71. Eaten caviar
Fish eggs from an ugly-ass fish? Blecch!

72. Pieced a quilt

73. Stood in Times Square
Many times. No big deal. Lots of peeps, many of whom are douchebags.

74. Toured the Everglades
Once, when I was young. Probably accounts for my morbid fear and loathing of alligators.

75. Been fired from a job
Many, many years ago. I was a salesman and my territory was divested. The experience probably saved my liver.

76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London

77. Broken a bone
Yes, in 1998. Spiral fracture of the anterior tibea. It really sucked.

78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
Crashed a couple times too. I’m wiser now.

79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person

80. Published a book

81. Visited the Vatican
No, but it reminds me of an old joke, the punch line of which would be, “No, but who is the guy on the balcony with the funny hat standing next to Jimbo?”

82. Bought a brand new car

83. Walked in Jerusalem

84. Had your picture in the newspaper

85. Read the entire Bible

86. Visited the White House

87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
I prefer my meat to be on a Styrofoam tray and wrapped in plastic.

88. Had chickenpox

89. Saved someone’s life
In a hotel in White Plains, NY. Guy in the restaurant was choking. The guy said thanks. The hotel bought me a drink.

90. Sat on a jury
Before I became a lawyer, I sat on a Federal Grand Jury, one day a week for 18 months. Now, I get called, but I never make it past the voir dire.

91. Met someone famous
I pissed next to Jackie Robinson and Ramsey Clark, but you already knew that. I also got to play drums with the Coasters once. I met Former Governor Whitman and Justice Scalia, but I had more fun playing with the Coasters.

92. Joined a book club
I believe I still have a few books I wound up with that I didn’t want, because I didn’t return the “No thanks” card in time.

93. Lost a loved one

94. Had a baby
Fathered an excellent one.

95. Seen the Alamo in person

96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake

97. Been involved in a law suit
Quite a few, but never as a party to one.

98. Owned a cell phone

99. Been stung by a bee
Yes, inside my mouth when in was in high school. It was on my baloney and cheese sandwich. Hurt like a sumbitch. One half of my face grew to twice its size. Ran off to the doc and he thought it was all quite funny. “What are you doing eating bees?” I wasn’t amused.

100. Read an entire book in one day

52 of 100. I don’t know how that stacks up against other peeps, particularly since there are several of the remaining 48 that I would prefer not to do.

Well, that was spellbinding, wasn’t it?

Update: Added links.

More sad than it is funny.

President-Elect Obama said that he would cut funds for “unproven” missile defense systems.

Of course, that was before he said that we need a missile defense system. I guess it depends on what the meaning of “unproven” is. Nuance.

Swell idea. While we debate what “unproven” means, what could possibly go wrong?

Damned if I know how stuff finds its way to my cruller while doing a morning groundpound, but it does, and the stuff often doesn’t make much sense. Today it was below freezing, but I was wearing a nice woolen cap, so I can’t attribute this foolishness to a lack of cranial blood flow. Being a blogger, I’ve learned not to fight off ideas, no matter how goofy they may be. So, with that, I will share with you today’s brain fart:

I got to thinking about Western Heroes (called “cowboys,” when I was a youngin’). That must have fired off the nonsense neuron, because I got to thinking about renaming the gunslingers of yore. Here they are:

The Crisco Kid: Riding the plains in search of the ultimate flaky pie crust.

Wild Bill Hiccup: The gunfighter who had to hang up his shootin’ irons because of intractable spasms of the diaphragm.

Stoned Ranger: Hiyoooooooh … uh …. Hiyoooooooh …. uh … dude”

Bong-o: The Stoned Ranger’s faithful Indian native American companion. ”Hey kimosabe, you ate all the beef jerky? Got any cookies left?”

Chorro: The masked, caped swordsman in black who carved a “C” with his blade and could not suppress the urge to occasionally shake his ass and say, “Cuchi-Cuchi!”

Green Autry: The enviro-cowboy. It was said that ol’ Green would never let his horse shit anywhere near a stream.

Flabby Hayes: It is not widely known, but the bearded, ubiquitous sidekick curmudgeon, after growing too fat to ride a horse without injuring the animal, was responsible for the design of an equine sidecar.

Tom Dicks: A famous cowboy, or a subject and a verb seeking a predicate?

Crawlalong Cassidy: After several failed attempts at rehab, and having pawned his six-shooters, Crawlalong nevertheless ended up in the Bowery wearing a battered black hat looking for bad guys.

Goy Rogers: The name given to Roy by his buddy Shlomo Finklestein, the Jewish proprietor of the General Store near the Double R Bar Ranch.

Ya think maybe I need a warmer hat?

I can hardly believe that President Kennedy was assassinated forty-five years ago on this date. Now, his wife is gone, as is his brother and his son, the little guy who saluted the passing caisson bearing his dad’s body.

I can remember it all as if it happened yesterday. I expect that I always will.

I wrote about it here.

Being a regular ol’ guy, I’m often made happy by little things

I made it through a particularly taxing week, and on the way home from work I was considering what libation would be a good way to get my cosmically twisted badself perpendicular to the center of the earth. Even though the liquor cabinet closet in the House by the Parkway contains quite an array of grown-up treats, nothing was coming to mind.

I knew that I was fresh out of Three Olives Chocolate Vodka, Triple Espresso Vodka and even of Three Olives Watermelon Vodka (more on that another time). An excellent bourbon (I have several) might be nice, but I wanted something over ice (clear ice, of course), and the bourbons I have should only be imbibed neat.

By the time I arrived home, I had pretty much decided on a Zyr Vodka (a most excellent adult bev) on the rocks. When I opened the freezer for some ice (clear ice, of course), I saw my only bottle of Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka tucked away under a bag of frozen string beans. There was still some left. I had forgotten it was there. SCORE!!! Zonker, the former blogger, and all around good guy, knowing I am a Yankee with the soul of a Southerner, had gifted me with the bottle when I was at Eric’s last month.

It is a perfectly wonderful drink.

Youse guys who live south of the Mason-Dixon Line should know that “sweet tea” is largely unknown in places like Jersey. If you were to order a glass of “sweet tea” here, the waitress, while secretly wondering which nuthouse you escaped from, would scratch her big hair and deliver to your diner table a glass of weak iced tea and point you towards the sugar bowl. Our loss, for sure.

Anyway, Firefly combines the best of sweet tea and vodka in a one-size-fits-all package. One must approach it with caution, for, like chocolate vodka, it doesn’t taste like booze, even though it is nothing but booze. If you find yourself saying, “Hmmmm, this is delicious” more than three times, you’re probably well on your way to being in some deep stumble around shit.

So, back to tonight. I poured several drinks over ice (clear ice, of course) until I squeezed every last drop out of what was left in the bottle. I celebrated each sip and lamented laying the bottle to rest in the recycle bin.

The bad news is that you can’t buy the stuff in Jersey, Of course, that means that the next time I find myself down South, in addition to eating a shitload of biscuits and gravy (We don’t have that here either), I’ll have to pick up a case or two of Firefly.

If I really like you, I might share, but don’t count on it.

When Dave mentioned Junior in a comment to a recent post, I thought it was time I said a word or two about ol’ Junior, the cat that was NOT our cat.

As I detailed here (including the basis for his name), from a very young age Junior managed to work his way into the House by the Parkway for two gourmet (thanks to Mrs. Parkway) meals per day and a long comfy nap after each one. Sometimes, he’d hang around until late in the evening when he would meow to let us know that it was time for him to go out and work the night shift.

He clearly didn’t live here. Rather this was his comfort station when he needed something to eat and a break from being a wandering bum an “outside cat.” He showed up like clockwork, including one or two times when living the wild life got him pretty well beaten up.

Here’s how he looked last Christmas after having been pretty badly banged up somewhere, somehow. He was a resilient sumbitch. He knew that there was always good eats here and that it was cool in the summer and warm in the winter.

The House by the Parkway also served as a place where he could kick back after a long night of carousing.

When we returned from our cruise in August, ol’ Junior was waiting for us in the driveway. He looked a bit thin from having to fend for himself for a week. We saw him for two or three days, and then he stopped showing up. We figured he probably was on a major tear somewhere, or that he managed to work his way into the house of a neighbor. We convinced ourselves that he would return, being the regular beggar that he was.

After about ten days had passed without seeing Junior, we asked our neighbor whose grown son was the person who claimed title to the cat (even though he never exercised dominion and control over him), what was up. The neighbor replied that he didn’t know, as they had never let the cat into their house. He opined that his son, who moved out to live with his girlfriend, may have taken Junior with him. I satisfied myself with that explanation until about a month ago when I saw the son while he was visiting his parents. I asked if he had taken the cat with him, and he replied that he had not.

So, the conclusion became at once inescapable: after having been a regular around here for more than a year, ol’ Junior was gone, really gone. I assume he tangled ass with a moving car and the car won, or that he got a fatal ass kicking from another animal.

I hope he didn’t suffer.

We’ve since given the gourmet cat food (wet and dry) and all his toys (Oh yeah, there were toys) to a relative who has cats. We speak of him now and then, and we always end up smiling, at least on the outside.

Even though he was never really our cat, I miss his sorry ass.

Have you seen the montage of Keith Olbermann’s “Special Commentaries?” They are, quite simply, priceless.

Can you imagine how cool it would be if, at the VERY end of one of his Special Commentaries, when he turns away from the camera and brazenly steals Edward R. Morrow’s signature tag-line (“Good night and good luck”), he were hit in the moosh with a fistful of dogshit?

SPLAT-TAY!!! Stinkola! Runny dogshit!

I must say, the mere thought of it sends a Chris Matthews tingle up my leg.

Kerrrrrrrr forrrrr yeeeeee!

Update: A commenter likened Keith Olbermann to the television “preacher” Robert Tilton. For those of you who may have missed it, we had a thing or two to say about Robert Tilton here.

Too crabby to blog.

Nothing to say anyway.

The country is screwed.