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Monday, December 3, 2012

I BET NOBODY LIVES AT YOUR HOUSE

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            If you have kids, I’m pretty sure “Nobody” lives at your house.  Oh, sure, there’s you, your spouse (or maybe your significant other) & your children, but what about “Nobody”?  Maybe you were him when you were growing up.  He also goes by the name of “Not Me” or, if it’s a girl, “Ida Know”.  I’m talking about the evil soul who decorates your walls with crayon or puts the cat in the dryer—you know, things your angels would NEVER do!  In the early 70’s, Bud & I went on a cruise & my parents moved in to take care of the kids while we were away.  While we were gone, “Nobody” apparently stopped by—we returned to find a hole, exactly the size of our new darts, in our living room window.  Guess who did it?  That’s right—Nobody!  There was no crack, just a hole.  We got an estimate to have it repaired—the glazier told us it would probably crack & fall out very soon—but it was way out of our budget.  The window stayed crack-free until we changed out all our windows, about 10 years ago--& we’ve had some pretty strong earthquakes.




I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened with flies, too.

            Before the days of smart phones or the internet—but after dinosaurs—my friend Barbara asked me to do her a favor.  She wanted me to pick up a package (that she had paid for in advance) at a small boutique.  They asked her how they could identify me.  (I don’t remember why my driver’s license wouldn’t have been enough.)  She told them to have me draw a duck.  They laughed, but said OK.  I drew this & got the package—no problem.


            My friends & I used to play pitch & putt golf once a week where “the boys” (half a dozen guys, average age 75 or so) hung out.  I was in my 40’s.  One of them had been eyeing me.  He came over & said, “You must have been a knockout when you were young!”  I didn’t know whether to kiss him or set his nose hairs on fire.
            Would you believe we used to be able to use my father as a clock?   More specifically, as a sundial.  Daddy loved to go to Las Vegas & shoot craps.  At 9:00 pm, he would be standing erect at the table.  As the evening wore on he would start to bend at the waist.  Lower & lower he would go as the hours passed.  Around midnight his top was at about a 30º angle to his legs.  By 4:00 am, the angle was about 60º.  That’s when we would get him & take him to our room.  Daddy really enjoyed gambling, but he had the right attitude.  He only allowed himself to lose “entertainment” money—never grocery or rent money.  He said that he could never understand why someone would play at a poker or blackjack table for hours & then complain that they lost.  He said that they pay for a ticket to be entertained at a play or movie & to him, that was the same thing.

              Some random cartoons to go with a random post:





            Someone I know was born with an undescended testicle, which was corrected by surgery.  If that hadn’t have been an available option, this would probably have been his theme song.

            


          Sometimes my brain wanders, & sometimes it just hides----fishducky