Tags: Books, Current events, dogs, funny stories, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
Recently, I’ve observed signs when on my walks with the Geezer or traveling around with him in the truck. Some were funny, some not so funny, some head nodding true, and some needed explaining. I’ll categorize.
Signs for businesses—
“The Olde Cock Inn.”
“Harry’s Hairy Waiter Lounge.”
“Greenwald’s Pet Shop & Taxidermy Service”
“The Oar House.”
“Futures Red – Madame Frig”
Signs in yards—
“Horse for sale, with harness, hay, and shovels”
“House for sale, lease, rent, or whatever”
“Stay off the **ass.”
“Go around to my back and knock”
“Bad dog! Bites everyone but cute women”
Political signs and bumper stickers—
“Vote integrity, vote Obama”
“Vote for proposition 7 – (added) girls“
“Romney = Health Care Chaos”
“Court Spacie for County Clerk”
“Larry, Curly, Moe for President in 2016″
Signs in windows and miscellaneous places—
“Hiring, must be able to….”
“Special, all deserts, friendly waitresses on sale”
“Park in my rear. Honk for service.”
“No fishing for bridge.”
“Alterations made, men’s or women’s”
“Male, neutered, take anything in trade”
“Corn, eggs, milk, fertilizer”
The one I barked at most was, “Wanted, Big Dog, Little Appetite”
Tags: Books, dogs, funny stories, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
My human confounded me the other day. In the middle of a conversation he said, “Sorry Sandy, I have to go to the White House.” That excited me. My human … going to the White House … WOW. After thinking about the Geezer’s penchant for selecting horrible wardrobe for crucial events, I decided to hunt him down and share some of my impeccable taste in clothes with him. I expected to find the old boy in his bedroom, packing. However, as I passed the bathroom, a malodorous breeze invaded my nostrils. The Geezer was perched on the pot, a bored look on his face.
I asked, “Is this what you’re calling the White House now?”
“Yes, Sandy. Isn’t it a creative and fresh referral? And so appropriate.”
“Geezer, shame on you. Your being partisan!” I exclaimed.
“Oh contraire, my friend. Every alternative time I take a dump, I call this place the Capitol.”
Tags: Books, dogs, funny stories, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
The poor old Geezer! Sometimes his best intentions turn to …. well you know … a disaster! What happened a couple of mornings ago is a good example.
The Geezer has been over-committed for the past few weeks. He’d made more promises than a judge at a beauty contest. After a couple days sequestered in his office … pounding away on his computer, he emerged to see what items he needed to do that weren’t connected to shortening his fingers on the keyboard.
The to do list was daunting. He had to get the boat and tackle ready to take his “Grands” fishing, take me for my morning walk, do laundry, cut the grass, visit the local TV station in prep for a book event, grocery shop, repair the fish cleaning table, trim the Bougainville, and haul dirt to fill a hole where a shrub had been removed. This had to be done in less than two days. That’s a full list of things to do for a young person … more than that for a codger on the shady side of seventy. The Geezer, believing he’s thirty-two, not seventy-two, decided, “No problem.”
He carefully planned his time to squeeze every last second from his busy schedule. The Geezer even took in account his “meds,” the pills he takes to remain his very healthy active self. He planned for the side effect —- the old boy’s tethered to the throne, the pot, the porcelain bus for a portion of each day. Fortunately, the impact is normally predictable. Confident operation “Overload” would be successful, the Geezer commenced early morning maneuvers.
Laundry, walking me and repairing the table took quite a bit less time than he’d allowed. After a mental check, he was sure he could get part of the grass cut before cleaning up to go to his appointment. The Geezer extracted the mower from the garage and began shoving it around the yard. I watched him follow the noisy machine around palm trees, rock-lined shrubbery, and over his lawn (one with more weeds than grass).
When he’d cut half the yard, the Geezer checked his watch. The old boy looked my way and said, “What do you say, Sandy? If I pick up the pace, you think I can get it done? That’ll be one task completed farther down the list.” I looked at him then the yard and shook my head, “I don’t know … can’t you finish later?”
“Naw, I can do it. I won’t have to take a second shower.” He pushed the mower with considerably more vigor. Ten minutes into his rush I noted his face was flushed and he made a couple of unscheduled stops standing stiff and straight behind the roaring lawn mower. Finally, he stopped altogether, becoming as rigid as a statue. I rushed over to him. His red face was a picture of distress. Fearing for his health I asked, “Hey Geezer, what’s wrong?”
“Shit!” he said.
“That doesn’t help me. Tell me what’s happening to you.”
He repeated, “Shit!” with great agitation.
It was then I discovered he was accurately describing his problem. You didn’t need my sharp olfactory sense or even my keen eyes to get a whiff and see the spreading stain in his tan shorts. He mumbled, “Shit,” again explaining both his situation and his frustration. “It’s been seventy years since I did that.”
The Geezer disappeared into the garage for fifteen minutes. He reemerged, wrapped in a blanket with soiled shorts and underwear dangling from one hand. He wandered around, turning on the water, finding the end of the hose while struggling to keep the blanket covering his naked bottom half. The old boy squirted a stream of water on his clothes to remove the well-used food from his garments. But……………….What happened next made his day complete.
Sparkle, the neighborhood Irish setter, wandered up to me. She said, “Hi Sandy, what’s happening?” as if she didn’t know. When Sparkle is around, you know her human, Irene, will be there too. From a few feet away, the lady’s soprano asked, “Oh, gee … Can I help?”
The poor old Geezer shook his head, got a better grip on the blanket, and started climbing the stairs of our stilt home. He summed up the situation in two well chosen words, “Awwwwwwwwww, shit!”
Tags: Books, dogs, fishing, Humor, life, nature, publishing, Reading, Writing
The Geezer has been busy at the computer, but he took enough time out to catch the baby tarpon he’s holding. He caught it on a light fly rod he uses to catch bluegills. You can see the fly if you look close. It was on a six pound tippet which he tells me will mean something to fishing dogs … I mean folks. It was the largest of three he caught in our back yard canal today. (Thirty-one inches)
The old boy is working hard on his new novel, To Hear the Sound of Wings. When he gets a head of steam up writing, it’s hard to pry him from the chair. Mrs G gets frustrated! Here’s why. The following is some of the conversation from this morning.
Mrs G – “Dear, did you take the garbage out?
Geezer – “Uh-huh.”
Mrs G after discovering the garbage wasn’t out – “The garbage isn’t out. Will you please do that?.”
Geezer – “Uh-huh.”
Mrs G after discovering the garbage wasn’t out and the truck had past – “You missed the garbage truck and it will smell terrible by next week.”
Geezer – “Uh-huh.”
Mrs G after some thought – “Will you empty the sawdust out of your head and into the fireplace?”
Geezer – “Uh-huh.”
Mrs G – “The toilet needs cleaning. How about wiping it out with your tongue?”
Geezer – “Uh-huh.”
Mrs G – “Are raw fish and two week old left-over liver okay for lunch?
Geezer – “Uh-no. How about a couple burgers, medium rare, tomato, mayo, onion, and five slices of dill pickle.”
Tags: Books, dogs, Florida, Humor, life, nature, publishing, Reading, wildlife, Writing
Ain’t spring grand?
It’s THAT time of year! Ahhhhhhhhhh. romance! I’ve put together some pics and clips to illustrate what spring brings to southwest Florida. Above you’ll find Matilda and Matt the manatees dining out. Yep, dating. Below is a pic of them swimming off in the sunset? Well, swimming off anyway.
Then there are those who are looking for a mate. At the slightest hint of the opposite sex, those horny rascals are on the hunt. Take Arturo the alligator. Even imitating the warbling of a winsome gator lass will bring him right to your feet. Watch him be a sucker for a gator call.
Feel sorry for poor Arturo, he’s having trouble finding just that right piece of tail. He’s asked me to help him by putting his best photo forward. It’s below.
Then there’s our bird friends. They get right with the program! They’re in love, they’re on the nest, then — WHAM, BAM, CRACK — and look what’s in the nest. Examine the second pic carefully to see all three night heron babies.
Even my friend Trooper is in an amorous way. How do you say NO without hurting a guy’s feelings? I’m silent and just stay sitting.
Ain’t Spring Grand?
To learn about my human visit his blog http://www.dlhavlin.wordpress.com
Or his web site http://www.dlhavlin.com
Tags: Blue Ridge Bookfest, Books, dogs, fiction, Hendersonville NC, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
Have you ever been faced with the dilema of feeling obligated to deliver “bad” news? To a friend? To an associate at work or at another organization? A relative? It’s not a fun experience.
I’ve recently been faced with delivering some not so nice facts in common situations. After a lot of ear scratching, I’ve come up with a few suggestions you might want to try if “forced” to be the harbinger of doom.
Upon having to tell someone they’ve gained a little too much weight–
“Gosh, you need to take pictures with your old camera. The pictures taken with your new cell phone (I-pad, etc.) make your clothes look tight.”
Upon having to tell someone they didn’t make the team–
“You’re lucky. You’ll be able hang-out every afternoon, drinking soda (beer, or whatever) and watch TV while I’m sweating my boobs (balls) off with the team.
Upon having to tell someone their cooking leaves room for improvement–
“Aaaaaa, Aaaaaa, Aaaaaa…Next time we eat, let’s not have you work so hard. Let’s go to MacDonalds.”
Upon having to tell someone a trip to the shower is in order–
“Wow! All that stuff about danger to our environment is true. Did you notice that a skunk and three buzzards died as you passed by?”
More news! I’m going on the Geezer’s and Mrs. G’s trip! They’ll be at the Blue Ridge Bookfest in Hendersonville, NC on Friday, May 17th and Saturday May 18th. It’s held on the Blue Ridge Community College campus. He’ll be introducing his new book Blue Water, Red Blood that was just released May 1st. We’ll also be stopping at some book clubs (like the Lake Sinclair Book Club) and book stores (Malaprops, B&N, etc.) on the way up and back. I could use a suggestion as to what a flat lands, semi-tropical canine should wear in the mountains this time of year. A waterfall close to where I’m going, is shown at the left. You folks who live in or are visiting the area be sure to come see us “a spell.”
Tags: Books, dogs, Humor, life, nature, publishing, Reading, wildlife, Writing
This is a special pic for one of my human bloggin’ friends. Yes, JM, there is a Santa and a Sawfish.
I loved your Narwhale post, Accidental Stepmom! Here is the answer to your question. My human says that when he was young (wheels were square and made of stone then) these critters weren’t that rare. He almost stepped on one that was eight feet give or take a foot. This is what can be called a pants soiling experience.
visit the Geezer’s blog at http://www.dlhavlin.wordpress.com
and his website at http://www.dlhavlin.com
Tags: Books, Congress, dogs, Humor, life, Media, Politics, publishing, Reading, Writing
The Geezer and I were watching TV this morning. As usual, the Geezer was tuned to the news in the off chance that someone in government…or in major corporations… or even within the media, did something to give us a little faith things would be alright.
The first three items covered were:
- High-ranking bank officials were reengaging in the same lending practices (making housing loans to those who couldn’t afford it) that destroyed the country’s economy. You know, those folks that are “too big to fail.” Humans don’t seem to understand that when you reward bad behavior with a bailout or something similar it encourages more of the same. Every mommy dog I know has better sense than to let her pups get away with manure like that.
- Those paragons of virtue, Congress and the President, quietly gutted the insider trader law that was passed a year ago (before the election). You know, the one that kept them from benefiting from having government information that would effect future fortunes of a stock. Remember, the one our President said, “Was overdue” and that, “Congress should be playing by the same rules as any other citizen.” Well, we have bipartisanship at last – Both parties passed and the President signed the bill that effectively repealed the law. They sneaked it through quietly, notice that?
- The Geezer changed channels trying to lessen his depression. A media type was explaining why it was fine to allow government officials to eavesdrop on innocent private citizens email without the protection the constitution provides, while it wasn’t okay for law enforcement to continue to question a guilty terrorist to protect the rest of us. And they say dogs are dumb. We are consistent…we always bark at the postman.
The Geezer sadly shook his head, turned off the TV, and turned on the stereo. He mumbled, “I’d say the country is going to the dogs, but I know they’d do a better job running it than the idiots of BOTH parties who run it today.” I agree him…that’s true.
I remembered a bit of wisdom from one of the Geezer’s own books and I repeated it to him.
“It’s no coincidence that big-shot and big-shit are almost spelled the same.”
Tags: Agents, Books, dogs, family, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Reviews, Writing
It seems like forever since I’ve had my paws on the computer keyboard. You probably have already guessed the Geezer has been away and that precludes my access to “our” internet accounts. Before he left he said, “Oh, I won’t be gone long. I’ll be back so quick you won’t even think about it.” Of course, I knew those remarks were placating, not truthful. In Doganese we classify that kind of speech under the category called, “Humanaucity Bullus Shittus.”
My buddy Oreo, eaves dropped as the Geezer and I discussed his prolonged absence. When I asked him what took him so long to get back, about the only excuse he didn’t use was that I’d eaten his homework. Oreo’s feline tail twitched. There were weather problems…rain, snow, hail, tornadoes, volcano eruptions, asteroid showers…and whether problems…he didn’t know whether to go to this or that event, or take this or that road, or stay at this or that hotel. The cat rolled his eyes in disbelief. The Geezer claimed he forgot several things and had to retrace his steps and repeat tasks. I can believe that; he’d forget his ass if it weren’t so big and firmly attached. My black and white friend rolled on his back, his belly heaving with repressed laughter.
After a series of apologies that fall under a similar Doganese sub-category “Humanaucity Bullus Insincereioso Shittus” Oreo and I were left alone to ponder whether the Geezer really believed we were that stupid. Oreo looked skyward and purred, “If you’re going to lie you should at least try to be good at it.”
I was steamed. I love the Geezer, but it infuriates me when he won’t just come out with the plain unvarnished truth. “Damn it Oreo, I wish he’d just say… sorry. I screwed up…and let it go at that.”
“That’s just the human way.” Oreo stretched his front legs out in front of him, pushing his rear high in the air at the same time. He looked out the window. “Look, Sandy, the Night Herons are back building nests again this year.” Oreo licked his chops, a feline reflex for he’d abandoned any form of hunting for a cushy inside-the-house life.
“Humans don’t seem to bother you much,” I said.
“The Geezer doesn’t.” Oreo got a sly grin on his face. The cat had seen some rough younger years before he came to live with us. “You have to rub a lot of legs before you find your prince.” He looked very wise and provided some sage advice. “Sandy, when you’re warm, well taken care of and fed regularly…bark less and wag more. You may quote me.”
visit the Geezer at
Tags: archaeology, Books, dogs, Events, Florida, Fort Myers, History, Humor, Indian Heritage, Reading, Writing
Last weekend the Geezer, Bo…a close family friend… and Mrs. G disappeared early Saturday morning. They were in too much of a hurry to give me anything but a quick trip to the grass, certainly not my normal morning walk. Mrs. G tossed my breakfast in my bowl with not so much as head pat. I watched the Geezer pack a set of knives and other items one would expect to go on a picnic. “Good,” I thought, “I’ll get a romp in the woods today.”
When they headed for the door, I accompanied them, expecting a nice long ride to the Florida wild. Instead, the Geezer stopped me short at the door. “Sorry girl, you can’t go on this one.”
“Why not?” I asked, shocked that I wasn’t welcome to accompany them. They usually want me to go everywhere. Humans depend on our superior canine intellect and tend to become bumbling incompetents without our guidance.
“We’re doing a Calusa tasting today. I’ll be too busy swinging these knives and serving people who are there to experiment with something different.” The Geezer grinned, “This is one of those rare times you can’t come with us.”
Now that shocked me! A Calusa tasting? The Calusa were an Indian tribe I thought had disappeared hundreds of years ago. I knew better, but it just came out. “You aren’t going cannibal on me, are you?”
All three of them laughed as they exited. “I’ll fill you in latter, Sandy,” the Geezer said.” With that, they left like a Mexican hairless who backed up to close to a prickly-pear cactus to do his job.
When they returned, the Geezer told me that Calusa Tastings were part of Calusa Heritage Day. Calusa Heritage Day is held by the University of Florida’s Randell Research Center on Pine Island, Florida. Yep, I know there are multiple Pine Islands in the Sunshine State. This one is located near Fort Myers and Sanibel. The event derives its name from the Indian tribe that dominated the southern portion of Florida for nearly 2000 years. It’s a celebration of their civilization. The Geezer said, “Today’s humans living in the US often overlook the complexity and achievements of our native American fore-bearers. The Randell Research Center, a fifty-four acre archaeological site, provides ample proof that discounting those people’s achievements is a major error. The Randell family donated the land and the public at large owes this family a large thank you. It takes far-sighted, generous individuals to donate bay-front property in the center of one of the most desirable retirement and playground areas in the state.”
I knew how special this site is from talking about it with the Geezer previously. The dig is unique in that it is right on the water and the sandy soil permits salt water intrusion. This results in the preservation of materials that would normally succumb to oxidation and other forces time exerts on wood, seeds, etc. For example, it was widely believed the Spanish imported the papaya to Florida. Thanks to the conditions at Randell, 1900 year old papaya seeds have been found in the middens (mounds). There weren’t any Conquistidores spreading seeds back then. The Calusa were sea-faring, mound-building folk that lived by fishing and gathering. For this reason, they kept their villages in close proximity to the water. Because the Gulf of Mexico’s level has changed six feet in the last 2000 years, the settlements yo-yoed back and forth. Dropped and buried items were preserved. (The Gulf of Mexico has been four feet higher and two feet lower than it is today during that time period.)
The Calusa had a highly efficient military establishment, very evolved spiritual beliefs, and were first-class engineers. Their engineering prowess is exemplified by a two-and-a-half mile canal they constructed across the island that was eight feet deep, thirty feet wide and featured recharge ponds… built so they didn’t have to paddle their canoes around the eighteen mile long island. They did this with shell tools!
He told me Calusa Heritage Day celebrates this society. Speakers led by UF’s Dr. Bill Marquardt, the sites director, Dr. Karen Walker, and many other noted historians and scientists that share their knowledge with the people that attend. The Geezer said, “My small part in the celebration is the “Calusa Tastings.” We prepare the foods that the Calusa ate over open fires. Those attending get the opportunity to slurp an oyster, savor a clam, munch on a mullet, pop in a mouthful of papaya, chomp on chili peppers, or enjoy some heart of palm.”
You can visit the Randell Research Center all year round, enjoying artifacts displayed there and tours either guided… or by making the site path’s circuit, reading the explanations on display podiums. It’s a “do not miss” for all visitors to southwest Florida and all that’s required to enjoy this is a small donation that makes it affordable to everyone.
For more info Google “Randell Research Center” or visit http://www.flmnh.ufl.edu/rrc/.
visit my web site at http://www.dlhavlin.com
AND come visit me in person at the Southwest Florida Reading Festival this Saturday, March 16th from 10 AM until 4 PM at the Riverside Event Center in downtown Ft. Myers.