Silly Sunday: Big Famous Rocks

Years ago, my sister, brother-in-law, Rhonda, and I left Boston and drove south for an hour to get a taste of our historical heritage by seeing the one and only Plymouth Rock. Once near the fabulous site, a foofaraw gathered around fancy smancy columns surrounding what must have been the greatest tourist attraction ever. Visiting Plymouth Rock was like the Peanuts Halloween special. After all of the excitement  and anticipation of trick-or-treating, Charlie Brown opened his bag and said, "I got a rock." I know how he felt. I don't know why I expected Plymouth Rock to be anything different from the million of other stones on the ground just because someone chiseled a year on it. Sorry, but my recommendation is to save your gasoline.

Here is a photo from some tourist site since a picture wasn't worth the film.

Years later, I was lucky enough to visit another famous rock, the Blarney Stone in Ireland. Legend says that if one kisses this giant rock, one will be given the gift of gab. As you know, I need that; however, I didn't kiss the Blarney stone. The night before heading to Cork, I overheard a conversation between a few locals in a pub. These youths laughed hysterically about how they and their young friends loved to visit the Blarney stone late at night. The stunt consisted of breaking onto the grounds, scaling the walls of the Castle, and pissing on the Blarney Stone before the puckering tourists arrived. You kissed it, didn't you? Ha! Now you have something to gab about.

Since visiting these two tourist attractions didn't work as planned, I've got to check out some more famous rocks. How about the Rosetta Stone? Maybe I could visit the Rock of Gibraltar? Who wants to go with me? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

#GBE2: Decisions

State Champions, 2004

I've made a lot of decisions ranging from life changing ideas to what kind of soup to order. Deciding on soups doesn't change lives, like other choices. For example, I skipped my senior year of high school and have wondered how my life would be different had I stuck around another year. Classmates told me our class bonded that last year and actually won a football game. Our high school team never won a game in the three years I was there.

Partners in Crime: Me (left), Rhonda (right)

Had I not gone to college a year early, I probably would not have met Rhonda at Laugh Quotes. She was my roommate and is still a great friend. Our sophomore year, she joined a sorority that didn't want me because I wore hiking boots to rush. Maybe if I'd stuck around high school to bond with the popular girls, I might have learned not to dress like a freak and have become Rhonda's sister.

I made another important decision as a college student. After changing my major each semester, I had an argument with a professor who said, "You're going to be a teacher."

"I am not." I stood face to face with him and snorted my independence.

"You're going to be a teacher," he said. "I know a teacher when I see one."

"I'm going to the school of Journalism to major in advertising."

"Go on, but you'll be back."

I ended up getting my degree in Speech Pathology/Audiology. Today, I'm a teacher.

Beale Street, Memphis, TN

Yes, I decided to become a teacher, which probably wouldn't have made a difference had I attended college a year later.  But, had I not graduated early, would I still have met my husband? I'm not sure. Although I met him after college, I might not have been settled enough a year later to have known where to go to meet someone like him. That means, I wouldn't be living in Memphis nor have three beautiful kids. (I could have had three ugly ones instead). When my husband purposed to me, he gave me a compound sentence, "Will you marry me and live in Memphis?"

If that ain't love, nothing is.

Now the big decision. Do I post this now or wait until after Christmas? 

I think I'll wait.

Wordless Wednesday: Oy vey . . . it's Christmas!

 

Christmas time used to mean a trip to the Chinese restaurant, but these days us Jews work the Christmas light display at Shelby Farms. 

Have a Merry Christmas. Ho! Ho! Ho!

Our best Christmas was a Feliz Navidad in Cancuun.

Silly Sunday: Poon Bomb

My "adult" son had asked me to participate in a prank on his "friend." At one o'clock, I was supposed to repeatedly text him the word "poon" along with one-hundred more of his "adult" friends, including an army platoon. This action would annoy someone with a smart phone and freeze a dumb phone for twenty minutes or so. Daniel's victim has a smart android device, so he was just aggravated.

When I asked my son what a "poon" is, he told me it doesn't mean anything. Yeah, right. I looked up the word and it is a large Indo-Malayan  evergreen tree of the Calophyllum. Sounds innocent enough in a normal dictionary; however, that's not where one looks to find out what a young person's word means. The true definition––which is rude, crude, and socially unacceptable, may be found in the Urban Dictionary. Since I'm not young, I promptly refused the offer to harass his buddy. Reaching the age of adulthood does not make one an adult.

2nd place in a poon attack DWL? Your poon powers are fading...

My daughter was the proud winner of the poon attack. She sent 34 messages to poor Andrew. Who? That's right. She doesn't even know him.

• 

  E  Beaten by his little sister. How embarrassing!
• 

  A   You were in the poon attack? I guess the poon apple doesnt fall far from the poon tree.
• 

  E Yup and I kicked his butt!
• 

  D DAYUM
  

  
  

  Write a comment

GBE2 Meets Theme Thursday: Writing About Faith on a Humor Blog

With tragedy surrounding us this past week, two of my blogging groups have asked us to post about faith or to just follow our hearts in blogging. This is tough because my writing lends itself to humor.

Faith means complete trust or confidence in something. I have faith in a lot of things. I know that when visiting the dog park, my furry friends will jump into the muddy lake and come out disgustingly dirty. I will get a nose bleed from my left nostril at least once a week in the winter time, and even got one this morning; however, the doc has faith that it's just dryness. When dining at a nice restaurant, the salad dressing will drip on my blouse. Most importantly, faith means that one day I will be a thin, even though I will faithfully put on a pound or two this month. I've given my kids specific instructions. If I'm ever on life support, they have promised not to pull the plug until I'm a size six. I have faith that they'll follow my wishes.

Bear's Arm

I know. I know. That's not the kind of faith Mrsupole or Beth were referring to. You both wanted an in depth––spill my guts kind of post about the horrible tragedy in Connecticut. The problem is, when faced with such an unspeakable tragedy, I cannot speak. What does one say about innocent children being slaughtered by a crazy twenty-year-old? 

Should I get political about the issues of gun control and how we should ban assault weapons? I agree. There's no reason anyone needs a gun that shoots rapid fire without the need to reload. Our founding fathers could not have imagined this type of weapon when writing the second amendment, giving folks the right to bear arms. People also discuss getting more help for the mentally ill. Once again, I agree and will further add that we should tax the one percent to pay for it.

I also agree that no child should be fearful of going to school. This tough situation needs answers, and perhaps my group leaders would be satisfied to read my post about how I shed tears when I read the grandfatherly neighbor's account of the tragedy; but personally, I'd rather deal with having faith that when getting dressed tomorrow, I will find a pair of socks that doesn't have a hole in them. That is less painful.

Wordless Wednesday: Running Through the Lights

Saturday night, we ran a 4K through the Starry Nights exhibit at Shelby Farms with 1,600 of our friends. I tried to take pictures of the beautiful light exhibits, but since it was a race, I couldn't stop running while snapping. Because I'm such a fast runner, the photos are blurry; but, enjoy them none-the-less.

The Start: See how the sign reads "Starry Nights?"

We ran through a beautiful tunnel!

This is a music exhibit. See the "Beetles?"

We ran through another light tunnel.

We saw stars hanging from trees.

Silly Sunday: Flash Mob

Since everyone's posting about the holidays, here's a little gem from Israel.

Theme Thursday: Red Ribbon Week & Worcester Sauce

Although October has passed, Theme Thursday's weekly topic is "Ribbon," and I am reminded of the constant fight against drugs during Red Ribbon week and the rest of the year. An ongoing anti-drug program in the schools teaches grade schoolers not to do drugs. This educational program is highlighted by Red Ribbon Week where students and teachers proclaim themselves to be drug free through wearing red, painting their faces red, or launching red balloons.

Anti-drug education had been so strong in my daughter's school that, years ago, she had a fit when I put a bottle of Worchester sauce in my basket at the grocery story. Since the kids were taught that alcohol was a drug, as soon as I picked up the Lea Perrins, Erica screamed––at a store awakening level mind you, "Drugs! You have drugs!"

I tried in vain to explain that Worcester sauce does not constitute drugs. Even if the bottle had contained alcohol, I was, and am, certainly old enough to drink it. I couldn't convince Erica that is was okay for me to buy Worcester sauce no matter what I said.

Wordless Wednesday: Let's Bounce

After the kids left the four year old's birthday party, the real fun began. Ever see old people jump on a moon bounce in the rain?

Silly Sunday: Washington State

In the state of Washington, gay marriage and marijuana are both legal. Finally, people can follow the bible as it was written.

Leviticus: Those who lie with mankind as 

they would with womankind should be stoned.

We've been interpreting this all wrong!

#GBE2: Bedtime Story

Okay kiddies, get comfortable because to satisfy this week's GBE2 challenge, I'm going to tell you a bedtime story about a brat named Goldilocks.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************

I made a special batch of porridge, or as most of you call it, oatmeal. With a picky eater like Baby Bear, I added a few drops of Tabasco Sauce to spice things up. It tasted good, but Papa said, "This porridge is too hot," and he stormed out the door.

He can be a bear when things don't go his way. Naturally, Baby Bear and I followed and the next thing you know, we're taking a stroll through the forest. Finally, I convinced Papa to try the oatmeal again by promising to water it down with apple juice. Things would have been fine except when we got home, a bratty girl had broken into our house and messed with our stuff!

Goldilocks. She put her slobber on our breakfast and ate all of Baby Bear's food. At least someone likes Tabasco Sauce on oatmeal.

We headed past the breakfast table only to discover that the same twirp had broken Baby Bear's favorite chair, a wooden rocker that used to be a family heirloom; now, it's firewood.

To top things off, we found Goldilocks drooling lumps of porridge onto the kid's pillow. Can you believe she had the nerve to crawl into Baby's bed and throw up?

When Papa saw her asleep in Baby Bear's bed, he was ticked. He roared his most powerful roar, woke her up, and ate her.

Wordless Wednesday: The Suit

Mitchell's Bar Mitzvah suit, April, 1972.

Don't you wish you could look snazzy?

"And You Are. . . ?" Blog Hop

I'm participating in the "And You Are...?" Blog Hop on Emily R. King's site. You may join the "And You Are . . .?" Blog Hop by clicking the link (or David Spade's picture) and answering the questions below. So hop on by, link up, and be eligible for prizes.

1. How many speeding tickets have you gotten?

I'm married to a lawyer; so if I happen to get a ticket, someone knows how to fight them. I've had a few, but I don't have any points.

2. Can you pitch a tent?

Absolutely! I spent a lot of summers camping in the Colorado Rockies. We also used to go camping as a family. I even made tents by tossing blankets over chairs as a kid. When it comes to tent pitching, I'm a pro. . .  that is as long as my husband helps me.

3. What was your worst vacation ever?

We never had a totally horrible vacation, but we did have some bad situations within great vacations. Like the time both Daniel and Judy threw up on Erica in the backseat of a rental car.

4. What was the last thing you bought over $100?

We bought a Volt, which costs a little more than one-hundred dollars, but we have yet to spend a penny on gasoline.

5. We're handing you the keys to what?

I'll take the keys to health, happiness, and a good life.

6. What was the last meal you cooked that made even you sick?

My meals don't make people sick.

7. Fill in the blank: Oh my gosh! Becky, look at her butt! It is so big. She looks like  ____?

she needs a stair master for Christmas. Please, Santa. Help her out because I'm sure she's a good person who just has a problem with her butt. Nice enough for the good list?

8. What was your first car?

Technically my first car was a Chevy Chevette, but in reality I drove a rental car because the Chevette never worked. Once while driving a rental car, I got caught in a vicious hale storm. Giant ice rocks made the rental car look like it had chicken pocks. Having the car in the shop all the time had a plus that day.

9. Your best friend falls and gets hurt. Do you ask if he/she's okay or laugh first?

Ask if she is okay, of course.

10. What's the worst song ever?

There is nothing worse than "I Know a Song That Gets on Everybody's Nerves." You may listen to it, but I guarantee it won't be for long.

Silly Sunday: Dinner

My daughter received a text message asking her to eat out. Please read her response.