#GBE2: Please Send Some Clarity

Mick Jagger

Don Knotts

Is it me or do these two celebrities really look alike? I've always seen a resemblance between Mick Jagger and Don Knotts. Now for a good laugh, picture Don Knotts on stage dancing in rock and roll glitter… or Mick Jagger playing Barney Fife or the dentist in The Shakiest Gun in the West.

Now that would be funny.

                       

Above is one of my favorite movie scenes. Don Knotts attempts to become a dentist, but this patient gives him trouble.

 

Mick Jagger's singing is phenomenal, but every time he moves those big lips, I think, Don Knotts. Just ignore the hair, cool threads, and confident swagger while focusing on his face. Then picture Barney Fife ripping off his deputy shirt and tossing it across the police station. Do you see the resemblance? Clarity.

Here's a pair I often confuse. Do you? How about some clarity here?
                                       

Jeff Bridges

Nick Nolte

I guess all these white guys look alike. Is it clear who is who or do you ever watch a movie and ask yourself, Is that Jeff of Nick?

I also confuse these two and need more clarity…

Keira Knightly

Marty Feldman

  
  


 




Just kidding!

Empty Nest #AtoZ

Today, April 6, means it's been 23 years since I gave birth to our first child--and to think, I was only six at the time. My husband and I have vivid memories of bringing that sleeping baby boy home from the hospital, setting his car seat on a table, looking at each other and saying, "What the heck are we supposed to do with it?"

Happy Birthday, Danielson! 

We figured out what to do after dipping the poor kid in cold bathwater and sticking the snot snatcher up the baby's nose then squeezing. It's okay, the son is no longer cross-eyed and eventually we figured out how to suck his buggers out. In fact, we did such a good job at this that when Daniel woke after surgery from a soccer injury, he even asked me to pick his nose.

Judy Woo

Soon we added two female bundles of job (yes it's a typo, but I thought it was fitting) to the mix to create a full house of, "Mmmoooooommm! She looked at meeeeeeee!" Ah the pleasures of raising children! And of course big brother became a master at egging the little two into a fight then stepping back to watch.

Erica - Baby Bear

Yes, we've had many wonderful years of joy and vomit, but those days are quickly coming to an end for the youngest of the crew is now a Senior in High School. She has chosen to attend the furthest school possible, Zhejiang University in China. Just kidding, but she is going to UCF in Orlando, which is quite a jog from little Memphis.

Seriously, we will miss our baby as we do the older two, and once again my husband and I will look at each other and say, "What are we supposed to do now?"

Half-Donkey Job

Everyone's heard the saying that March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb, but in the south we take it a bit further. If March enters like a lamb (it did), it goes out like a lion (yep). So how can that be? It seems to go in and out in opposite ways. Off course if you get a lot of rain in March like we're getting now, it should help the grass grow. 

 

This healthy grass theory might work, except my husband planted grass seed on only half of our lawn. So the left grows luscious green blades while the other side bares brown stubble. He claims it was a good move because we lost the lake in the backyard; however, it looks goofy.

Just think how great life would be if we did a half job with everything. Shaving's a pain, so I think I'll shave one leg from now on. Okay, it's late. I'll go tweeze my right eyebrow then climb in bed.

Oops, what if I missed and plucked the eye instead?  . ⠅⠅⠄⠎⠂⠒⠁⠉⠌⠌⠅ I'd be in trouble because reading Braille doesn't work for computer screens--dang it! Oh, wait. I'd only be blind in one eye. No problem.☺

Mom Taught Me How to Laugh

Honeymoon, 1949

On March 27, 2002, I accompanied my son to Italy for a soccer tournament. In the middle of the night, an odd alarm that we hadn't set woke us up with a single beep. I call it a good bye because early the next morning, our phone rang to tell us that my mother had unexpectedly died late that past night. Although she'd been sick, she was getting better, and no one expected a heart attack to steal my beautiful and witty mother away from this world after only 75 years of life. So, in memory of my mother, I dedicate today's post to her because her sense of humor helped to make me who I am today.

During my grade school years, my mother would often become frazzled by her "friend" Five by Five, as Mom called her. Mrs. Five by Five, five feet tall and five feet wide, had a homely daughter who she swore looked just like me. My mother's mama claws would flare as she'd spit out how I was so much prettier than the daughter of five by five.

Mama Claws

I must not have been too terribly ugly because a few years after that a carload of boys stopped next to us and cat called from my passenger side window. At least I think they were hooting at me, but maybe not. For my mother hoisted her left hand into the air and yelled, "I'm married!"

"Darn it!" The boys promptly said.

  

Florence Paull

 Mom didn't lose her humor with age, nor did she lose her ability to spit out anyone's birthday after hearing it once. In her wheelchair, she sat in the middle of the dance floor at my daughter's Bat Mitzvah party. Goofy neon necklaces covered her head and neck but she didn't bother to remove them like most elderly people would have done. Yeah, that was Mom. She was also the lady who taught my kids how to shoot straws out of paper so they could misbehave in restaurants.

I miss you, Mom, even though I sometimes sense you telling me to be careful not to trip over broken sidewalks or other messages straight from you. Are you still here or was that one bleep of the alarm your final salute? None the less, today is the anniversary of your death, so here's to you. Did you know my mom? If so, what do you remember about her?

Broken TV - Go Fish

If you were to replace the most expensive item in your house, what would it be? For us, it's that sixty inch mega giant television in our family room that has just bit the dust. We saw its demise coming with its occasional popping sound before the screen would go blank.

We interrupt this program for an important news announcement **POP** 

or

Detective, we've just figured out who killed Isadore, it was **POP**

Now everytime we turn on the TV, we hear one jar of mus- **POP** or guilt- **POP** In other words, the television broke, and we will be broke too once we purchase a new one. If you've TV shopped recently, you understand this concept.

Last night, we ventured into Best Buys and found a very helpful and very pieced saleslady. Okay, I exaggerate, but she did have the rod through the cartridge, a knob on the tongue, and a few empty holes that probably no one but the earring Nazi (me) noticed. The store walls were covered with flat screens, Plasmas, High Def, LED, 3D, and of course the bibbity-bobbity-boo-I-don't-know-what-to-do type. Long gone are the days of just picking up a box.

Now with a new TV comes the question of what to do with the old one. After all, this gigantic piece stands to my chin but thank God, it's much wider. Erica, my beautiful and brilliant youngest child wants to turn the television box into a gigantic fish tank! We'd clean out the insides, fill it with water, and have sixty inches of aquarium.

Interesting idea because this is not the first time this box has held life. Years ago, a brown recluse got trapped behind the glass. We enjoyed watching her crawl over the face of the annoying Head On lady with her repetitive commercial designed to give us a headache so we'd buy her product. Finally, our friend turned to dust and we can still see her shriveled corpse on the bottom ledge. *sniff*

Interesting idea about the fish, Erica, but no. Instead, I've placed a fun fish tank at the bottom of this blog. Move the arrow, and my fish will follow. Click the mouse and food will drop! Have fun kiddies, and we're off to look at more high tech TVs.

RIP: Apple Blossom

I once was the proud owner of a Liddle Kiddle doll named Apple Blossom. Her flower-covered green hair flowed over her two inch body as she populated the stores sometime around 1967--which means I must have been negative fifteen years old when I got my treasure. Not only was Apple the most beautiful doll I ever owned, but also, when locked inside her container, she carried a fresh perfume scent that stuck around well into my adulthood.

So at age -15, I made a decision. Apple Blossom was too special to be just any doll. I kept her perched in her bottle on top of my dresser. Sure, I played with her. She was the captured princess who couldn't escape her cage. Every so often, I'd open her, take a whiff, stroke her soft hair, and wrap her back in plastic. But I was sure to keep her in mint condition because I knew one day I'd have a daughter and I'd give her this special doll.

The years flew by and sure enough I became a mom. My daughter bubbled when I gave her that amazing doll. Then on that very same day, she lost it.

Trivia Night at Kickin' Chicken'

I just got back from visiting my son in Charleston and getting a first hand peek at what twenty-somethings do for fun. Every Wednesday at 10:00 is Trivia Night at the Kickin' Chicken. I was all over it. Perched on stools around a wooden table we delighted in competing for a $50 bar tab for the winners, $25 for second, $10 for third, and the dreaded syphilis infection for fourth. Competing against a large crowd, we left empty handed; but our team had full beer bellies.

The first task was picking a team name that related to current events, was totally obscene, or preferably both. My son, daughter, and I struggled over a name, but it took my son's twenty-three year old friends no time to come up with the kind of name with words that one would never say in front of someone's mother (AKA - me). I didn't mind the sexual names so much, but Charlie Sheen jokes got old, and Japanese related titles were just plain rude. My favorite team name was: "I don't bungee jump because broken rubber brought me into this world and I don't want to leave the same way."

Equipped with the rare knowledge that Michael J. Fox's middle name is "Andrew," we were ready to begin. . . but they didn't ask that question. Being the night before St. Patrick's Day, a lot of questions related to the Irish. No problem; I've been to Ireland. So why did I report the most southern county as being Limerick instead of Cork? Oh, the pressure!

We knew Sam Houston was the governor of Texas who retired from office rather than take the oath of allegiance to the confederacy (although we almost said, "George Bush"); Florida was the most recent college team to win two championships in consecutive years; and never remove the Cauliflower Ear during a game of Operation.

What we didn't know were the four most popular bands of all times. Beatles and Rolling Stones were the given. What were the two others? Being the old lady who loves to tune into classic rock, how could I have missed it? I was probably the only one in the bar who had been around during these bands' hey days. So, knowing what I know, how could the Grateful Dead not be one of the four? I mean, "dead heads" abound, even though no one understands why a dead person would be grateful. Anyway, I know you're dying for the correct answer . . . the winners were . . . wait for it . . . Led Zeppelin and U2. Really? Yeah!

Although Trivia Night is a blast, it's made for the young. To find out why, reread my second line: "Wednesday nights at 10:00." How could someone over twenty-five get up for work the next day?

Chain Letters

Tonight my sister sent me another one of those messed up chain letters. It was about July having five Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays and that's supposed to have something to do with money. Send it off, and you'll get money, don't and you'll lose it. Who writes these things? Do they not have enough to do?

Fine. If someone can make up horse poop about July, I'm going to write lies about March. Let's see, hmmm. March has four Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. That must have something to do with monkeys. If you send this little known fact off to five friends by Friday, no monkeys will swing through your house, but if you don't . . . Gilbert the 900 pound Gorilla will escape from the nearest zoo, break into your house, and eat all of your bananas. Chain breakers beware.

Funny Scenes in Every Day Life

After I ventured into the restroom at Cosco, I headed out with a great new idea for a comedy scene that I've since added to my work in progress (WIP). It all began when I stuck my hands into the automatic hand dryer, and I thought what would that goofy kid Slater do with this device? Next I knew, I was laughing out loud at my keyboard.

The $1,000,000 question: Do you think my scene is funny?

“Cool, Knob! Look at this.” He pointed to an automatic hand dryer with two silver slabs that faced each other. The top part had a section that curved outward to allow room for a guy to stick his hands inside. A bright yellow line did a crappy job at trying to make the machine pretty.

Slater lowered his hands into the drying machine and caused a deep swooshing sound to fill the bathroom. The motor yelled so loud, I could barely hear him speak.

“What if a guy’s hands don’t fit in this thing? I mean if he weigh six-hundred pounds or something, his fat hands ain’t fitting in here!”

“Not many people weigh six-hundred pounds.”

“But what if he some sumo wrestler or a super hero? Some guy with big old hands that wrestle alligators; he gots to dry his hands too!”

“Maybe there’s a way to push these panels out.” I patted the bottom of the machine for some sort of lever but didn’t find anything. That wasn’t good enough for Slater. He lifted his hands out, leaped onto the floor, and nosed up under the dryer. I couldn’t help but think of all the dirt on a bathroom floor.

“The floors filthy. Get up.”

Slater ignored me. “Here it is.” He flipped some kind of switch and the panels spread outward.

“I need it to dry my hands. Hope it still works.” I lowered my fingers into the dryer. Even though the panels were further apart, my hands got dry. I just had to move them around more. After I pulled them out, I rubbed the back of my dry hands.

“Hey, Knob. Watch this.” Slater lifted himself to his knees and put his head into the machine. The engine roared and noisy air shot out of the panels. The skin on Slater’s cheeks wiggled back and forth like a bulldog shaking loose jowls. As Slater giggled, he must have hit something because the panels moved inward and snapped. Slater tried to move his head out of the machine.

“It stuck, Knob. I is stuck!” As Slater opened his mouth, the dryer caught his spit and sent droplets catapulting across the bathroom floor. The inside of his cheeks ballooned out wide enough to use his face as a parachute and his eyes squinted to keep the air out. A smoky smell filtered from the machine. “Find a knob, Knob. Get me out of here!”

“Let me get help.”

“No-o-o! Some manager dude come in here and he yell!” Slater must have shouted so he could be heard over the roaring motor. “Look below! There a lever down there. Pop it!”

As much as I hated being on that dirty floor, I got on my knees and looked around for the lever. Finally I found it and freed Slater. When he stood up, his cheeks glowed red and his once centered Mohawk had shifted to the left side so that it shot out of his head like a one horned elk. Singed hair lined the tip of his Mohawk.

I hope someone will find this scene funny; but if not, I had a blast writing it!