Tags: Agents, animal tales, Books, Cooking, dogs, food, Fox & Friends, funny stories, Humor, life, O'Reilly, publishing, Reading, Writing
“You humans never cease to amaze me.” The Geezer and I sat on the dock while he performed one of the obligatory functions I insist upon, brushing me. “Your language defies logic.”
“Oh? How’s that?” He cleaned the brush sending another puff of my fluffy undercoat onto the canal water. Its surface was blossoming like the hibiscus bushes in the front yard.
“Hmmmm, I was listening to the TV this morning. They were talking about the polls saying this and the polls saying that. Now, I know you have a room full of fishing poles. Okay, okay, I know the difference. But, why not have a different sounding word for every different meaning. In Doganese, Woof is Woof, Arf is Arf, Grrrr is Grrrr. There’s no guessing.”
“That’s a good point, Sandy. As you know, all humans don’t speak the same language. English is the one you’re most familiar with and it’s also one of the worst for having words that sound the same, but have multiple meanings.”
I hate it when he gets into one of his condescending, ’I'll explain this to you as nicely as I can, you poor unfortunate,’ modes. It’s his Bill O’Reilly impersonation. But, he means well, so I tacitly become his straight-man. “And, why is that?” I asked.
“English, as we know it, has been influenced by the Celts, Romans, Anglo-Saxons, and the Norman French. Each was in control of the British Isles. Each brought their own terms to describe a thing or a process. Those identifiers were simply absorbed into the language. That’s why we have so many ways to say the same thing. Some sounded identical to words already in use.” He smiled one of his patronizing, ‘I’m glad I could clear that up for you,’ lip curls. Puke, puke, puke.
“That doesn’t make it any more logical, or easier, for creatures and humans that aren’t steeped in your hodge-podge vernacular.” I felt like adding, ‘Take that!’ but the old boy is free with the treats. No sense in creating self-inflicted pain.
“Give me an example, Sandy. I’ll try to explain.” He appeared to be a little contrite.
“Okay, explain to me how a person unfamiliar with the lame logic your language employs wouldn’t be confused by the use of poll – which I understand to mean, a study to determine a group of people’s thoughts on a subject used to help influence others – and pole, which is basically a shaft.”
“Why, Sandy, that’s brilliant!” The Geezer smiled. In this type of situation, that’s not a good thing. Something smelled like a five-day-old dead fish.
“I know I shouldn’t ask, but why is that?” I could see the guillotine being wheeled into place.
“You’ve connected the two meanings perfectly, Sandy. So you’re saying that polls are designed to shaft a bunch of people by making them believe a certain way.”
How do you answer something like that? The whole theory has a huge hole in it. Oh, good grief! He’s got me doing it!
Tags: animal tales, Books, Cooking, dogs, Entertainment, food, Fox & Friends, funny stories, Humor, life, Media, Politics, publishing, Reading, Writing
There was a meeting of the neighborhood Canine Chowder and Ham Bone Marching Society yesterday. Most of our members were present due to a large yard party for all the “snowbirds” (Human folks that live in Florida in the winter and travel North in the summer.) who were getting ready to depart like a flock of geese.
Of course, over half our Society’s members accompany their humans on the annual migration. Sparkle the Irish Setter commented, “Well, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you all, next fall.”
“It seems as though I’m always moving. I bet I did it in a previous life,” Lucy the Cocker Spaniel moaned.
“You guys believe in that shit?” Peter the Pointer saw the blank stares and added, “Reincarnation.”
“Oui. I certainly do. I can even tell you about at least one of my previous lives.” Our French Poodle, Fifi, is into all the metaphysical stuff. “I was a Doberman ten lives ago, serving in the German Army. I received metals and was a bonified heroine.”
“Huhh!” Sarge scoffed. His German shepherd blood was aroused. “Yeh, Fifi, was your uniform a toto? What did you have for rations? Champagne? Escargo? Did you have a maid to dress you in the morning? You couldn’t have learned to be as snobbish as you are now in fifteen previous lives.”
Peter said, “I’d pay to see you in a hand-to-hand combat drill.”
There was a chorus of laughs. Fifi stuck her nose in the air and walked away in a huff.
“Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I remember a previous life, too,” Manny the chihuahua said. “I was the personal companion to Santa Anna, the great Mexican leader.”
“Uh-huh.” Sarge didn’t look convinced. “Were you his guard dog?”
“Oh yes, si, certainly.”
Peter asked, “If somebody tried to attack old Santa Anna, what was your plan? Bite them on the big toe?”
“Oh no. I was a mastiff in that life. I was a mucho grande dog.” Manny tried squaring his shoulders and looking large.
Before Peter or Sarge could humiliate the little guy, Opie our Scotty and resident scholar interceded. “There is a possible scientific explanation for reincarnation. At least, in the same species. DNA. It’s the building block of life. The potential to hand down memories through parental lineage is certainly a possibility.”
That made us all think. Some could rationalize the theory. Some stared at Manny, visualized a mastiff, and had trouble s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g the reality. That would make for a difficult parental “chain.”
“Sometimes, I do think I remember things– Well, I might have been Rin Tin Tin in a former life,” Sarge said.
“Yes, I’m believing that.” Fifi had rejoined our group. “And I believe elephants can fly and will be jet propelled if they eat enough beans and cabbage and drink enough beer.”
Sarge growled and Fifi snarled back, so I decided to change the subject to humans, something we could all discuss without ruffling neck hair. “Well, I can certainly see that possibility in my human. The Geezer probably descended from Mark Twain. They’re both writers, have a strong awareness of human behavior, and a good sense of humor.”
“Oh, and my human probably has Lady Godiva in her blood line. She loves to go naked.” Sparkle was doing her best to support me and lead the conversation in another direction.
“Oh. Oh. Oh. I bet I know who my human’s great, great, great, great, great, grand-mother was.” Manny was so excited I thought the little guy would pop like a firecracker. “She has to be descended from Catherine the Great because all she wants to do is fu–”
“Hmmmmmm!” I interrupted. “No exposing family secrets here.” I did another switcheroo. “Wouldn’t it be fun to guess who famous people are reincarnated from?”
“I can see General Petraeus being the reincarnation of Alexander the Great,” Opie said.
“Oh. Oh. Oh. How about Queen Elizabeth the II being the reincarnation of Queen Elizabeth the I?” Manny was getting it.
”I bet both Nancy Pelosi and Sarah Palin had a common ancestor,” Lucy quipped. “Attila the Hun.”
Everyone laughed except for Heintz, the neighborhood mut. He said, “Well, that explains a lot. Both Bush and Obama must have the same ancestry.”
“How’s that?” I asked through my giggles. Heintz was serious.
“That’s easy. Trace them back through Nero, you know, the guy who fiddled while Rome burned, to that famous Greek leader. What was his name?” Heintz scratched his head with his rear paw hoping to stimulate his cerebral cortex. Or maybe a flea.
“Plato?” I suggested.
“No.” Heintz kept scratching.
“Socrates?” Sarge asked.
“No, no, no.” Suddenly Heintz’s eyes shone and he stopped scratching. “I remember. It was the king of the city-state of Bankruptkus, Idious the Imbecile.”
Not one of us spoke. First, none of us are Greek scholars. Second, it was too logical to refute.
(Thanks to Lady Marilyn Kaye, one of my readers for the inspiration)
Tags: animal tales, Books, dogs, Entertainment, Fox & Friends, funny stories, Humor, Media, Politics, publishing, Reading, Writing
“Mind if we go down Quail Trail?” one of the Geezer’s friends asked as we took our morning stroll. Bob, a human, and Lucy, my cocker spaniel buddy, were accompanying us on the AM constitutional the Geezer and I take daily. It was unusual for that particular gentleman to select Quail Trail as part of his morning walk. One side of road was densely wooded and housed a large number of snakes, something that sparked unreasoning fear in him.
I was sure it would evoke a question from the Geezer, which it did. “Aaaa, Bob, you sure about that? This warm weather has the snakes active and crawling.”
“Absolutely!” Bob was staring at a couple approaching us on the normal route we took each morning. “I want to avoid Madelyn and Mark. Those assholes drive me crazy!”
The Geezer just grinned. I spoke to Lucy in Doganese, “What’s the story on him?” I twitched my head toward Lucy’s human.
“Politics,” she snarled.
That explained it to me. The eight-letter word seemed to make idiots of other-wise rational humans. Not that many humans are thinkers under any condition. The species is afflicted with all sorts of mental inadequacies.
Bob tugged on Lucy’s leash, heading us toward black snake city. Yep, we made the turn down Quail Trail.
“Didn’t Bob and Mark used to like each other?” I asked. “I know they’d fish and go to football games together at one time.”
“Used to is the operative statement,” Lucy woofed. “It started before the 2008 election. It’s gotten worse and worse. My human is a Lie-bore-ral. That Mark person is a Con-stern-native. They never even used to talk about politics. Now, that’s all they do. No, not talk; shout.”
“That’s too bad.”
Lucy shook her head like she would if she had ear mites. “I know what causes it; it’s TV. And radio. They have all these political gurus on shows that specialize in making one side mad at the other. Bob repeats what he hears from Mathews, Madow, Marshall, and Maher. Mark quotes Beck, Hannity, Limbaugh, and Levine. All they have to do is mention one of those names and it’s like waving a red cape at a bull, or forcing a teenager to listen to Guy Lombardo music, or giving one of us a rubber steak for supper.
“Yep, I’ve seen it at my house. The Geezer actually threw a towel at the TV one time,” I said.
“Oh, is the Geezer a Lie-bore-ral or a Con-stern-native?”
“I have no idea,” I said, lying as hard as I could. Even a canine with a lot less dog-sense than I possess knows not to stick his or her tongue in that mouse trap.
About that time we’d walked a hundred yard down the road. A gentle breeze carried the fragrance of Sneaky B to the receptors in my nose. Sneaky B is a large black snake, a full five foot in length, an inch-and-a-half wide, with a cranky personality. My nostrils told me he was nestled in the weeds growing on the side of the road.
An evil idea hatched in my sometimes devious mind. I stretched my leash out as far as it would go, herded Sneaky B toward the road, and gave one loud bark to send him slithering onto the pavement…right in front of Bob.
“Oh, shit!” Bob hopped back, jerking poor Lucy around as though she was a rag doll. He took a couple of running steps then froze and cursed again, this time using a long string of vile human incivilities. Lucy was giggling between gasps for air that the snatching of her collar had caused.
I was laughing too, but at Lucy and her human. They were a funny sight. What I couldn’t figure out, was what Lucy thought was funny, when she should have been mad. I asked, “Hey, why are you laughing? You ought to be pissed at Bob.”
Lucy said slyly, “Oh, he’s pissed or pooped enough for both of us. Look at his shorts.”
The light tan color of his Bermudas was turning a much darker shade in the crotch area. I asked, “Did he?”
“He sure did,” Lucy confirmed.
I shook my head and watched Sneaky B slide back into the weeds at the side of the road. As the snake passed, he hissed, “What’s his problem?”
“He’s been feasting on too much politics. It’ll give humans problems directly or indirectly every time.”
Tags: animal tales, Books, dogs, Election, Entertainment, Fox & Friends, funny stories, Humor, life, Media, Politics, publishing, Reading
I’ve never been to a better attended meeting of the neighborhood Canine Marching and Ham Bone Society. Fourteen of our sixteen members had assembled at a yard sale held in the vacant lot down the street. The large gathering of dogs corresponded to the numerous card tables, enormous stacks of stuff, and multitude of loitering humans trampling the grass of my favorite restroom facility.
Those yard sale things are a homo sapiens invention, usually held in front of houses in the ‘hood. Some enterprising human had come up with the idea of getting everyone to bring their stuff to the lot, advertise in the paper, and have a grandiose event. Of course, this Einstein hadn’t thought about the fact everyone would have to clean the stuff up, find something to display it on, haul it there, and, of course, haul it back. After buying cleaning products, a card table that “we can always use,” super glue to fix broken soldiers, and paying for part of the add, most participants were in a breakeven situation at best.
If you’re not familiar with the concept of a yard sale, I’ll explain. First, “Yard Sale,” is a complete misnomer. I’ve never seen or ever heard of a single yard being sold. I think it’s a bait and switch marketing ploy. They’re also called “Garage Sales,” but that title isn’t as popular because even humans with their limited intelligence realize you can’t tear off the garage from the rest of the house.
Basically, a yard sale happens when humans clean their houses. They find things they no longer want. It might be a serving dish with a chip, a fishing reel that doesn’t work, a skirt that miraculously shrunk two sizes without ever being washed, or a painting Uncle Festus gave them to scare roaches away. They consider relegating these items to the trash, but no, their avarice makes them think they might be able convert their unwanted, dare I say it, “junk,” to cash.
Typically, these items go from the household to a heap called, “The I don’t want or use, but I can’t get rid for some stupid reason,” pile in the attic, laundry room, basement, or garage. Those items languish there for a period of time where they deteriorate or become covered with dust to the point their appearance is poor enough to be transferred to the, “I’ll get rid of this at a yard sale,” pile which is a larger and dingier heap.
Watching humans buying things at these sales is instructive. There’s the person who is looking for a specific needed item, or for something that might have value as an antique. It is a very small percentage of these folks for it requires an IQ larger than a little leaguers’ hat size to do this and humans….
There’s a larger group that are there looking for a “bargain.” These folks typically buy something they have absolutely no need for because it’s cheap. They take their purchase to their car, smiling at their treasure, where it will provide its greatest value to them: ballast to keep their car from being sucked up in a tornado.
Another group are the ones I refer to as the “Hagglers.” They enjoy making every penny a contest, trying to get the seller to bend to their will. Hagglers would enjoy participating in a timed toilet paper wiping contest.
A few impulse buyers see things they’ve sold at previous neighborhood sales. Suddenly, a wet blanket of mushy guilt settles over them when they see that artsy carafe shaped like a nude sumo wrestler that Aunt Sally gave them. What if she comes and asks about it? The cycle starts again when a simple lie would suffice, “We used it all the time ’til we broke it.”
Then there are the mindless wanderers, the “Gawkers.” They shuffle around the lot, collecting my doggy dew on their shoes, picking up items, admiring them without the slightest knowledge of what they’re looking at, and buying several items without any reason at all. Well, that’s the human thing to do.
Of course, most of the items purchased at these events have brief lives in dining rooms, kitchens, etc., before finding their way to the, “The I don’t want or use, but I can’t get rid for some stupid reason,” pile. The cycle continues.
At the Canine Marching and Ham Bone Society meeting we discussed what I’ve just described and were about to pass a motion that this was “best evidence” of the lack of gray matter in the human cranium. However, it was scrapped and another unanimously adopted when, Opie, our resident Scotty, said, “I don’t know if that’s best evidence. Consider that most human’s voted for Bush and Obama back to back.”
Tags: animal tales, Books, Congress, dogs, Entertainment, Fox & Friends, Fox News, funny stories, Humor, Politics, publishing, Reading, Writing
One of my dog buddies from our street asked, “How can you put up with that old guy, Sandy?”
I looked at Barbie the neighborhood cocker spaniel and head gossip. I said, “The Geezer? He’s a nice guy. Why would you ask something like that?” My human and Barbie’s were discussing mosquitoes and other irrelevant human subjects while we patiently waited for them to resume our walks.
Barbie got as close to me as she could and whispered in Doganese, “I’ve heard he’s a cannibal!”
I yelped, “What!! Where did you hear that?”
The Geezer Gator bent over to see if I was okay. “You alright girl?” he asked. He doesn’t understand a word of Doganese, though I’ve diligently instructed him in its intricacies. Of course, at times that’s an advantage. This was one of them. I licked a paw and said, “Just a sand-spur, Geezer.” He accepted my excuse and resumed his chat with Barbie’s lady.
I motioned to Barbie and we moved away as far as our leashes would allow. The Geezer is like practically all humans, their comprehension of languages other than those spoken by their species, is zero. Still, the old boy is perceptive and he might have figured out what we were talking about.
I switched back to Doganese as I asked Barbie, “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. You live in that house.” Barbie looked at the Geezer with disdain.
I said, “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Just like most of her breed Barbie was running her mouth, half-cocked.
”Oh. Oh. I ask you, were his grandchildren here last week? His ‘grands’ as he calls them? Huh? Huh?” Barbie was practically panting.
“Yes,” I said.
“And, and, are they here now? Huh? Huh?”
“And, when and where was the last place you saw them? Huh? Huh?” Barbie couldn’t contain her excitement, drooling at what she supposed was juicy gossip.
I thought for a few seconds, replaying the kids visit. “Last Saturday, in the kitchen, before they left to go home,” I answered.
“I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!” Barbie yammered. “You just thought they went home! He actually ate them!”
“Bull shit! How do you get from his ‘grands’ being in the kitchen to the Geezer eating them as the main course?” I shook my head in disbelief.
Barbie narrowed her eyes. “The Geezer confessed to Mrs. Zoomer. Manny, her chihuahua, told Scoop, the labrador retriever, who told Baseer, the afghan hound, who told Heinz, the… well, I’m not sure what he is, who told me in strictest confidence. I had to trade something to get that information.”
“What?” I asked.
“Sex,” Barbie whispered.
It was beginning to make sense. Barbie isn’t the swiftest fish in the canal. “What did Heinz tell you?”
“Heinz said, that Baseer said, that…”
I interrupted, “Skip that, just get to the point.”
Barbie lowered her voice and glanced nervously at the Geezer Gator as she spoke. “The Geezer told Mrs. Zoomer that he really enjoyed eating his Grands with sausage and milk gravy!”
I started laughing so hard I could hardly stand on all four’s. I said, “Barbie, you moron, Grands are a type of biscuit made by Pillsbury. Honey, you’ve been had! Or, let me rephrase–you’ve been screwed!” For she had. About that time, the Geezer and Barbie’s human, who the Geezer calls “The Fantastic Fanny,” broke up their conversation and we went our separate ways.
After we were out of hearing range, the Geezer asked, “What was that all about? You two were giving somebody a hard time. Who was the victim?”
“You. Let me explain.” I retold the story and we both got a good chuckle. I said to the Geezer, “Poor Barbie. Her ethics are non-existent. She’s either stupid or naive. It’s a good thing she owns a nice human. If she had to earn a living I don’t think there’s anything she could do.”
The Geezer rubbed his chin a few times then said, “Maybe there’s a couple positions she could hold.”
“What?” I asked. I couldn’t think of a thing.
“A member of the US House of Representatives or a US Senator.”
“I guess she might qualify for that.” I thought of the leadership in Washington. “Yes, she does. Anything else?”
“If she couldn’t handle one of those jobs, I can only think of one more– based on the last three who held the job, how about President?”
I laughed and nodded my agreement.
The Geezer sighed and added, “There’s only one problem, Sandy.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“After observing Clinton, Bush, and Obama, she’s probably over qualified.
Tags: animal tales, Books, Congress, conservative, dogs, economy, Fox & Friends, Fox News, Humor, liberal, Media, Politics, publishing, Reading, Writing
“Why do you do that?” I watched the Geezer Gator get his tide marker out for his monthly update. Each full moon he measures the level of the high tide from the top of the sea wall and records its height on a strip of wood. He’s done this since I’ve been here in our Southwest Florida home– that’s 2 1/2 years.
”It’s my version of a lie detector, Sandy.” The old boy looked at the stick and grunted. “I’ll set this out so I don’t miss marking it. Full moon is on the 7th. I forgot last month.”
“You okay? You haven’t fallen and bumped your head? Or developed malaria? Maybe we should take your temperature.” Once in a while I get concerned about the old boy’s mental state. I figure there must be rust on that brain of his. “How on earth can that serve as a lie detector?”
The Geezer Gator laughed. “I can understand your confusion. This started ‘BS.’ That’s ‘before Sandy.’ Five years ago when the flap about global warming was peaking, I decided to do a little survey for myself. I’ve owned this place on an ocean-connected canal for 29 years. I hadn’t noticed any difference in the water level, but unless you recorded the actual height would you really know? It’s pretty important since the information some folks have been putting out is that this property will be under water in a few years. I decided to find out for myself. Was the book “An Inconvenient Truth” fact, or just “A Politically Motivated Lie?”
“And the answer is?” I asked.
The Geezer shuffled through a stack of papers stored by the stick. “In the 63 observations I’ve made, the net increase is 3/16 inches. That’s in about five years. Actually, it’s gone down a couple times. Since the average high tide level is 29″ from the seawall top, and if I use the 5 year rate of increase it means the seawall top will be breached in 773 years. What do you think, Sandy?”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire!”
”That’s my deduction too, Sandy. But, lets remember there are a lot of factors that may change. And, while the increase is insignificant, it is an increase. Things could get worse. China and India are just really getting started on putting autos on the road. The global economy is developing new industrial capabilities and power requirements world wide.” He got his sly, ’my tongue is in my cheek,’ look. “And of course, there’s the continuing problem of animal life producing all those pollutants.”
“Sounds like none of that is going to change.”
“Let the liars, I mean politicians, have some time to dream up ways to make it appear like they’re working on the problems while at the same time strengthening their political power and padding the pockets of their friends and business partners.”
“That sounds pretty cynical to me, Geezer.” I have to keep the old boy in line. “Just how would they go about that?”
The old boy rubbed his mustache and looked into space hoping a friendly alien would beam down an answer. Amazingly one must have. He smiled and said, “Bicycle pedals, Windmills, and Beano.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Geezer, what are you talking about? How do those three do anything to solve the problems of more cars in the emerging economies, the need for more power, gases in the atmosphere? For example, China and India already have huge numbers of bicycles.”
“Did I say bicycles? I didn’t say bicycles. It’s pedals, pedals, pedals. In fact, the politicians will tell you that pedals solve the unemployment problem as well. We’ll hook up those pedals to electrical generators, have the unemployed turn them in shifts, convert all cars to electric, and have GE make the conversion kits.”
I enjoy a spoof as much as the next canine. I played along, “What if there aren’t enough people unemployed?”
“No problem. The government will simply decree that ALL people must spend two hours, or what ever it takes, on the power tread mills. Freedom is no longer an issue, government can do anything, like set salaries, cancel debts, bankrupt businesses, make value judgements of a persons mental judgments based on race and gender. Why not tell us we have to do our part for the collective?”
No sense reasoning with the Geezer when he gets those hypotheticals rolling. He always seems to come up with another tale. I decided to move on. “The windmills are for generating power, right?”
“Yep. GE will have a monopoly on that, too. So that fits. Might be able to use some of the unemployed to blow on the blades. The government is creating more of those folks in the auto industry by producing more cars in China. They could set up a couple windmills in the studios of MSNBC, CBS, CNN, ABC, FOX, and NBC so that something usable comes out of those blow hards.”
“I’ll drink to that!” I had to agree. I cautiously asked, “Butttt..What about the Beano? Explain that.”
”Sure, Sandy. We can get the government to hire Haliburton to clandestinely put Beano in all foods for humans and all domestic animals, world wide. Think of the impact. Less methane to attack the Ozone layer. You can eat leftovers without fumigating the house for roaches. Cows won’t poot in pastures decreasing the mating urges of bull frogs and crickets thereby eliminating those surplus populations. I won’t ever have to worry about cutting a fart in a crowded elevator, having to look at the guy next to me like he did it, while waving my hand in front of my nose and saying, “Some People.”
I shook my head and said, “Geezer, really.”
He laughed. “Okay Sandy, I take it all back except for one thing.”
My paw covered my squinted eyes because I had to ask. “And…what’s that?”
“Politicians are liars.”
You can’t argue with a universal truth.
Tags: animal tales, Books, dogs, Entertainment, Fox & Friends, Humor, life, Politics, publishing, Reading, Writing
THE ECONOMY!!!!!! Before any of you scream, “Oh no!!! NOT another one of those political rants disguised as humor!” I’m happy to say this has nothing to do with politics or the sub-human species that practice them.
The Geezer and I agreed, soon after we started this blog, to stay away from heavy-duty politi-comment. Our jottings are primarily devoted to reading enjoyment, writing, humor, books, publishing, and of course, dogs. Well, actually animals. The Geezer is one opinionated old fogey, but he’s wise enough to have a separate blog to express his thoughts for those looking for such, dare I say it, manure.
To be honest, we did a little when we started the blog, but quickly abandoned the practice after READING some of the tripe, left and right, masquerading as humor. I have a visual of the people producing this *#@&!. They all have very long, very thin faces so their minds will fit in the very narrow space. The Geezer and I decided that’s fine in a political, liberal, conservative, etc.,etc., tagged blog, but not as an imposition on readers who just want to laugh. So…onward!
Several days ago the Geezer decided that he’d sell the stuff he was clearing out from under the house. The cleaning was a bi-product of one of the Geezer’s New Year’s Resolutions I wrote about, remember? Anyway, when he told me his plan, I asked, “How you gonna do that?”
“I’m going to hold a garage sale,” he said.
“A what??” Our garage is under our house, I couldn’t figure…
“You know, a yard sale!” The Geezer squinted at me. He looked perplexed, like I should know how he could sell either without our moving.
I rolled my eyes and ended up looking skyward. “If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked.” I’d figured it out, but decided to make the old boy explain it to me. You have to train humans to express themselves clearly.
“Sandy, a garage sale refers to material that was in the garage, but that you want to dispose…” The Geezer frowned. My smug expression gave me away. “Smart ass!” he said.
I watched the preparations as he spent most of his waking hours opening boxes, sorting, cleaning, polishing, and pricing the “junk.” He bought cleaning chemicals, rags, and brushes. He also bought a couple large folding tables to display the hoard to his would be customers. The stickers he used to put the prices on had to be purchased. When Mrs. G asked how anyone would know we were having the sale, he decided to make signs and put an ad in the local fish wrapper. Mrs. G suggested it would be “nice” to have coffee and tea for people stopping to shop. Mrs. Gator’s wish is the Geezer’s command so he purchased some flavored coffee and tea, creamer, sugar, and Styrofoam cups. After looking at the amounts scribbled on the tags, I shook my head. The Geezer just isn’t an economic genius.
Game day! The people milled around the tables, picked up items, examined them critically, and put them back down. A few bought “stuff,” but generally offered less than what the sticker requested. When the crowd disappeared, Mrs. G packed the left-over material in the pickup and made the trek to Goodwill! That was 2/3rds of what the Geezer started with.
The next day, after he returned from the chiropractor, I asked, “Well, did you make any money?”
He smiled, then winced. His back was very tender. “Yep, I took in $187.47,” he said proudly.
“But how much did it cost you?”
“Let’s see.” The boiler in his cranium began to build up steam. “The tables were $22 each, that’s 44.” He hesitated allowing the engine’s pressure to raise. “Cleaning supplies were $14, coffee and such were…$17, stickers were $3, material for signs $6,” his enthusiasm was waning- reality can do that to you, “two days ad in the paper was $55.” Yes Columbus, the world is round.
“That’s $139. So you made 187.47, less 139, less the cost of the 60 mile trip Mrs. Gator made to Goodwill, say $10. I’m not Einstein, but doesn’t that mean you actually made $38.47?”
The Geezer didn’t look like he retained any thoughts comparing him to Einstein. He did look sheepish. He said, “I’ll rethink my next garage sale before I have one. Or not.”
I wanted to mention the $60 doctor visit, but have learned to keep my muzzle closed when it’s appropriate. Besides, the Geezer’s bad back couldn’t be directly blamed on the garage sale.
As customers milled around the tables, the Geezer was seated in a camping chair and I was lying next to him. He’d tied my leash to the chair’s back, keeping me from creating mischief. So he thought. Up pulls this Cadillac. Directly behind the Geezer’s chair, out steps this male, rich, handsome, endowed, great Dane. Come on, I’ve got hormones! I took off to greet this Adonis. Unfortunately, I forgot about the leash.
Wham!!! When I came to the leash’s end, it slamed the Geezer and chair over backward. He looked like an out-take from one of the “Beethoven” movies. I stopped abruptly when I felt the impact tremor. The Geezer ain’t a light weight. His legs extended upward toward the sun, making a huge letter “V” for the 20 folks who couldn’t help but chuckle. They quickly helped him up and, not being a dumb dog, I quickly was a contrite canine. Or made that appearance.
Still, it was difficult to keep from laughing for a thought had flitted across my mind. It was a good thing the Geezer isn’t Scottish. Imagine the scene if he wore a kilt!
Tags: conservative, Election, Reading, Republican, Writing
Wow, it was beautiful on the dock this morning. Pleasant November coolness surrounded me and my friend as we watched the early morning sun reflect and dance off the gentle ripples lacing the canal. The fish must have slept in for none disturbed the surface. Something very fresh, very exciting, and very new filled the day; it was as though an unseen entity was being born.
The mystic’s arrival was peaceful and quiet. Very Quiet! I guessed the Geezer was depressed and that caused his uncharacteristic silence. The election, one where he disliked both candidates but supported the one which he considered the much lesser evil, is history. Bad history as far as the Geezer Gator is concerned. As ardently as the old boy had supported the non-communist candidate, I was glad to see him seem to accept the outcome. Though his usual smile wasn’t present, there was a serenity in his countenance I hadn’t seen in weeks.
He didn’t ignore me; he never does that. The usual praise came when I did my morning sashay around the yard. The pets and pats that accompany the words were there. But, the conversation he inevitably starts wasn’t forthcoming. I sat at his side and joined his stare at the canal. He put his hand on my shoulder and stroked my coat gently.
“You feeling sad this morning?” I asked.
“No. Why, should I be?” he replied.
“You’re awful quiet and the election didn’t turn out like I know you wanted. I thought, well…”
The Geezer grinned. “Better?” he asked.
“Yes.” It was a great relief to see my friend wasn’t distraught. “I’m glad getting defeated that way didn’t get you in a funk — you know, depressed.”
The Geezer smiled, cocked his head to the side, and raised an eyebrow. His eyes burned bright with an inner fire I see from time to time. “Do you think I’m defeated, Sandy?”
I looked at the Geezer. His posture, expression, and demeanor didn’t contain a hint of loss or surrender. “No, I don’t think you are.”
”Good observation, gal. Remember this, Sandy, you’re only defeated when you allow yourself to be.”
“And, you don’t choose to be, do you?”
“I sure don’t. Yesterday’s battle is just that. Today’s preparation for the next skirmish is the important issue. Licking wounds and self-pity do nothing to enhance what must be done in the future. A wise general plans and prepares while his enemy celebrates, sleeps, and tries to assume control. Our adversaries have done that. That’s what I’ll do. That’s the course I’ll encourage those who share my convictions to take. Those compatriots are not defeated unless they choose to be. They can, should, and will dedicate themselves to have their ideals reborn”
“Strange you should say that, Geezer. Right before we started talking I had the definite feeling that this day brought a new possibility, a birth if you will.”
The Geezer took a deep breathe of fresh, new, cool air. “I believe you’re right, Sandy. Thank goodness today is the day we begin again!”
Tags: conservative, Election, Fox News, liberal, Media, New York City, Politics
Hi!! I’m back. Geezer returned my blog to me. I’ll fill you in on today’s conversation we had while sitting by the canal.
”Geezer, is New York City better than the rest of the world?” I asked the old boy. We were walking to the dock to watch the schools of mullet idly swim around the tanin stained water after our morning TV watching session.
”Why did you ask that, Sandy?” The Geezer looked at me like I was crazy.
”Oh, it was something that was said on that TV show you watch most mornings. They were talking about a bunch of women that were angry that another lady was running for vice president. The people talking on TV made it sound like a disasster. They said women were wanting to jump out of windows, want to kill the candidate, and the commentators seemed concerned that these women were upset. It sounded to me that those women more important than others.”
”They made it sound that way.” The Geezer stepped down on the dock and plopped his rear onto the seawall. ”Let me answer your question by asking you one. Do you think you’re inferior to the dogs that live in Naples or Sanibel?”
“No way! I’m just as smart, just as ethical, just as good looking, as those hounds.”
“Sure you are. How about those that live in Cincinnati, or St. Louis, or Dallas?” I knew the Geezer was espousing equality, but I wasn’t sure I knew what his end destination would be.
“I don’t know any dogs from those cities, but I can’t see why there would be any difference between them and me.”
The old boy pointed to the plethora of mullet swimming around the canal. “I wish I had my cast net. I could toss it once and we’d have fish for a month.”
“Yuk! I’m not a fish eating affection-ado. Let’s get back to the subject. What’s your point?”
”Oh, yes. New York City. I take it that you wouldn’t feel inferior to a New York City dog, right?” He looked at me as though he had a hidden agenda.
“You’re trying to trick me, aren’t you?” I asked.
I rolled my eyes and tossed my head. “Okay, I’ll bite. No, I don’t feel New York City dogs are any better than me.”
“And you’d be right! Those dogs are the same as you and the people that live there are the same as me or Mrs. Gator. No better, no worse.” The Geezer lifted his eyebrows. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with New Yorkers. There’s many brilliant, educated, and wonderful people there. And, there’s narrow minded, unintelligent, vicious folks in that city, too. You can say the exact same thing about people in Bokeelia, FL, Walled Lake, MI, or Folsom, CA., and the percentages are similar. Want to know why many New Yorkers have an attitude?” Geezer cocked his head to the side.
“The networks, publishing companies, and other media organizations are based in New York. The difference is that people living in that city get more press than the rest of the country, and due to this many, not all,” he paused as he cautioned me, ”have deluded themselves that they’re more important than those of us living elsewhere in the country, or for that manner, the world. They think they’re better educated, smarter, and so on.”
“No.” Geezer laughed. “They think they are. They’d tell you about their Harvard educations, their control of finance, their control of media. Think about that in terms of whats happening today. Those folks with their Ivy League degrees and control of Wall Street have created the crisis this country is in. The rest of us Americans are having to clean up the manure they’ve made.”
“And, think of this. All those New Yorkers who are publishers and network mouths want to tell you how they’re for truth and the American way. Would you call a person that is so intolerant of someone whose ideas are different from theirs that they want to kill them, get physically sick that person has a chance to succeed, and lash out with personal attacks that have nothing to do with the issues, 1. intelligent, or 2. ignorant.”
“No brainer! Ignorant.”
“You win the prize, Sandy.” The Geezer smirked. “Still think those folks are better than the rest of we Americans?”
”Nope. Let’s talk about something more important than how the New York City ladies are upset with that Palin woman, like the price of manure in China.”
October 8 – Where’s the bailout today? Striking back at those that screwed us. A list of those who voted for the bailout.October 9, 2008 at 2:19 pm | Posted in Current events, economy, Elections, Media, News, Politics, TV | 4 Comments
Tags: Congress, conservative, Democrat, economy, Elections, Fox News, liberal, News, Politics, Republican
So how are things for you today? A whole lot better? Has that 700 billion dollars of Wall Street Welfare that had to be passed immediately by our slime bag congress, solved the problems? Remember, Fox and the other networks said the world would perish tomorrow, has it? Has the Market stopped tanking? Have you seen the effort made by the networks to justify their propaganda effort to support the bailout for their Wall Street friends? Have you noticed that Paulson appointed a Goldman Sachs henchman to be the czar for the distribution of the spoils? How about the $400,000 celebration party held by one group of execs (AIG) after they got their bailout? How about the fact the same group was then given ANOTHER $30 billion loan after this? Had enough yet?
What we can do is vote out the manure that voted for the bill to restore wealth to the very idiots that caused this problem for us. No matter what your political philosophy a vote against these folks is a vote to insure you can maintain your democratic rights to practice being a liberal or a conservative or a centrist. The House and Senate members who supported this gift for their power broker friends obviously don’t care about the will of their constituents and justify their vote by saying that, “I had to do it to save the economy because the people don’t know enough to understand the problem.” Oh yeah? We understand the problem, its the large number of lice in congress. And the bottom feeders and traitors in the media that are their allies.
Here’s a list of things we can do.
1) Find out if your Representative or Senator voted FOR the bailout and VOTE AGAINST them in November! There is a list of all the thieves at the end of this post. If they’re unopposed, write in “Mickey Mouse,” as a protest.
2) Call your senator, if he voted for the bailout, and ask… what is required to recall a sitting senator– a constitutional amendment? How do we get started getting this done? These SOBs feel because they have 6 year terms they have a license to steal. They’ll either get the message or we’ll have a way to get rid of them.
3) Equally important is to support those honest and principled congress members that voted against the bill. Give their office a brief call. It’s important to let them know we appreciate their statesmanship. They keep track of such things.
4) Email both presidential candidates and tell them how despicable you think their lack of courage was for failing to oppose the bailout.
5) Contact your representative and ask her/him to do what should have been done when the original bill was up — pass rules as to how the bailout gift is distributed, including: a mechanism to force the funds to be released into the credit market directly, that the current czar appointee (part of the problem industry) be immediately removed and someone like Buffet or Romney be put in place, remove Paulson from any future involvement, and be sure that no one gets big comp packages and paid vacations like AIG. (Send those folks to jail)
6) Let people like FOX News know your anger with the congress extends to them as well. Deluge their email sites with scalding remarks. Don’t support their new projects like their new business channel, the books (probably ghost written) they sell through name recognition of their personalities, contact cable and dish companies about dropping them, and contact their advertisers to protest. TUNE OUT FOX PROGRAMS FOR ONE WEEK STARTING 10/12 to show them our rejection of dishonest journalism.
7) PASS THIS INFO TO EVERYONE YOU CAN. To make it easy, copy this address and send it on to friends and associates. SandySays1.wordpress.com
Here is the list of those voting for and against the bailout.
VOTING FOR THE BILL. These are the folks to vote out.
Murkowski AK, Stevens AK, Pryor AR, Lincoln AR, Kyl AZ, MCCAIN AZ, Boxer CA, Feinstein CA, Salazar CO, Leiberman CT, DODD CT, Carper DE, BIDEN CT, Martinez FL, Isakson GA, Chambliss GA, Akaka HI, Inouye HI, Harkin IA, Grassley IA, Craig ID, OBAMA IL, Durbin IL, Bayh IN, Lugar IN, McConnell KY, Kerry MA, Cardin MD, Mikulski MD, Collins ME, Snowe ME, Levin MI, Klobuchar MN, Coleman MN, McCaskill MO, Bond MO, Baucus MT, Burr NC, Conrad ND, Nelson NE, Hagel NE, Sununu NH, Gregg NH, Menendez NJ, Lautenberg NJ, Bingaman NM, Domenici NM, Ensign NV, Reid NV, Clinton NY, Schumer NY, Brown OH, Voinovich OH, Coburn OK, Smith OR, Wyden OR, Casey PA, Specter PA, Whitehouse RI, Reed RI, Graham SC, Thune SD, Corker TN, Alexander TN, Cornyn TX, Hutchison TX, Bennett, UT, Hatch UT, Webb VA, Warner VA, Sanders VT, Leahy VT, Murray WA, Kohl WI, Rockefeller WV, Byrd WV,
THOSE SENATORS WHO VOTED AGAINST THE BAILOUT - THE GOOD GUYS!!!!
Sessions AL, Shelby AL, Allard CO, Nelson FL, Crapo ID, Roberts KS, Brownback KS, Bunning KY, Vitter LA, Landieu LA, Stabenow MI, Wicker MS, Cochran MS, Tester MT, Dole NC, Dorgan ND, Inhofe OK, Wyden OR, DeMint SC, Johnson SD, Sanders VT, Cantwell WA, Feingold WI, Barrasso WY, Enzi WY.
Those House members voting for the bailout. VOTE THESE PEOPLE OUT!!!
Johnson, E. B.
Lungren, Daniel E.
These are the heroes that voted against the bailout — send them your thanks !!!!!
Sánchez, Linda T.
The house results are courtesy of williamssoapbox.wordpress.com If you want to find out who your local rep is, check your phone book or one of my previous posts that give state and district. Its easy to find out who they are.