Wilma, the See and Eye Horse

Hello friends,

In case you haven't noticed strange things are about in the air. Could mean the end is near. Here's one.
Todd Turtlebottom who is legally blind, meaning he is certified to be blind and believe me there is a skill to being blind! I was almost there! Anyhow Todd Turtlebottom was no ordinary non-sighted person. He was from the Lookasillie tribe. The brave Apache warriors were given names like Silver Eagle, Running Buffalo or Fearless Wolf. but the puny Lookasillie tribesmen got names like Scared Rabbit or Turkey Lurkey or Turtlebottom. Todd was determined to claim recognition, so instead of the usual black lab or golden retriever see and eye dog, Todd, in the name of diversity, got a see and eye horse. This was a revolutionary breakthrough for the rights of the blind and the right for animals to work act (RAW act). Now, instead of walking behind a dog, Todd could ride atop the horse. His visibility was increased ten-fold and he was in a much safer position. Of course he had to remember to duck through doorways. Once he ordered a giant roast beef sandwich with fries and then made his own horsey sauce. Todd ordered the same. The next step in Todd's recognition makeover was to marry the horse. And why not! Seeing what passes for love and marriage these days. If we are to be so open minded so as to accept that if two men or women love each other enough, they should be married, then why if a man loves his horse enough, should they not be married. If this is our thinking why not let anyone we love have marriage benefits? We could make them available at fast food restaurants. Brings a whole new meaning to the "Big Mac Attack" or "Have It Your Way". "Where's The Beef?". Going to a movie could be awkward. Horses always laugh at the wrong time!
Oh. well, if the whole world were a vaudeville stage I think God would reach down with His big hook and pull it behind the curtain!

Have a good day! Don't waste the rest of it!

BACK FROM THE DEAD!

WARNING: this may not be funny or valuable in any way, but nobody is holding a gun to your head, are they?

Well I did not die! Can't a guy take a vacation? There are a few ideas floating around in my head. Better there than my kidneys! Otherwise you'd never hear them. Ugghh, floating in kidneys creates a terrible picture. Lucky you! Yeah, I know! I was being sarcastic. Did you know by adding ic to the end of a word, you can often exaggerate it's meaning? Fantastic, spastic, elastic, Jurassic, ballistic, hyperbolic, plastic. Well not every time. Anyway, there is lot's of room in the old melon for ideas. There could be 9000 ideas up there and they would never bump into each other.

Idea 1. Instead of cutting teachers salaries, why not do away with the fourth grade? I'm not saying lay off the fourth grade teachers. But every time a teacher retires, replace them with a fourth grade teacher. Now, some of you may have to move to Michigan or North Mexico. Or is it New Mexico. American History wasn't my "thing". School in general wasn't my thing. I learned everything I need from flash cards! Besides, how can we keep saying New York, New Mexico, New Jersey, New Hampshire? Wasn't the idea to get away from the British? The point is, nobody likes fourth grade. You could cram the important stuff like long division into the end of third grade and the beginning of fifth grade. What knucklehead decided there should be twelve grades to begin with?

Idea 2. Build a wall across the Mexican border!! NOW!! Build a wall out of used tires. We already have to pay a disposal fee for our old tires when we buy new, so use the fees to fund tire shipping. This wall would cost nothing and it would save our landfills. Then allow kudzu too overtake the wall to enhance the beauty of the project and conceal the rattlesnakes and copperheads breeding inside. Border Patrol, your new job is tire truck driver! UPDATE: A few days after this original post, while biking 20 miles on the Comet Trail, I saw a tire wall surrounding a classic car lot (synonymic phrase for junk yard)so I must give them credit, while at the same time it only re-enforces the validity of the tire wall project! I wonder who or what is feeding my brain, because in my attempt to make up a new word, synonymic, I find I have been beat to the punch! Could it be that I accidentally, against all odds, learned something in school? Nah!! Something is messing with me!

Idea 3. Make the presidential term an unrepeatable offense. Maybe include a "back by popular demand" clause, prohibiting the sitting or golfing president from participating in campaigning for hisself (I know it should be himself, but English wasn't my thing) or others and from writing books, but allowing her/him to return if the majority votes for her/him as a write in. Key word is "write" and I mean in English. And let's stop paying politicians to champion causes for segments of society based on race, natural origin or gender. If you're an American citizen you AUTOMATICALLY HAVE FULL RIGHTS. If not, over the tire wall you go!

Sorry - way too political!

Idea 4. Stop importing cars! If the foreigners want to sell cars here, let them build the cars here with American made parts and let the profits stay here. Give them American names like Toy-Okra, RHonda, Folkswagon and how about a supersize suv called the Plantation? If you start off the sentence as a demonstrative statement (pardon my redundance) and end up as a rhetorical question, how do you punctuate it? Rhetoric, there's the ic thing again in all of it's superboli! I like the word redundance! It can be broken down all sorts of ways. But it does not mean repetitive as commonly mispercieved. It means excess. So I may have forty pounds of redundant weight! Or more. I reckon if you wanted it to mean repetitive, you could just say rerundance. Or just repetitive. There's a whole industry built around rerundant words. Words that mean the same thing as other words. There is a whole book full of them. The main use of the book is to help uncreative students conceal plagiarism. I don't know why teachers insist that students rewrite what the professional writers, with all of their proofreeders and editors have perfected. They are totally, completely, absolutely unnecessary. They are unquestionably and without a doubt not needed. No wonder our young people are so frustrated!

Oh,well. I've completed my assignment. It may not be pullover prize material, but perhaps I will pass.

I've Got A Secret!

HELLO! This is Tony Bologna, host of the famous TV game show, I'VE GOT A SECRET! For those of you who are new to the show, that would be anyone born in the last 20 minutes, this is the show where a guest appears with an unusual or perverted secret, and our incredibly famous panel tries to guess the secret. Actually, we invite panelist who are not the sharpest cheese in the deli, otherwise the show would be over in 5 minutes and no one would stay tuned for the "brought to you bys".I'll introduce the first panelist. She is the vivacious Jane Fonda. Hi I'm the ever-chic Jane Fonda and I'm fond-a the panelist to my left Mr. "If it ain't Barack don't fix it" O'Bama! I'm proud to introduce the person who inspired me to become great!! When, as a child, I saw her on TV, I thought, if a nun could fly, perhaps I could play for the Chicago Bulls or maybe just become president of a country like Hawaii or USA or Muguambe (Moo-gwam-bay - place that doesn't eat cows) since I was born in one of those. Anyway, here is Sally Fields! Hi, I am Sally Fields and I do hope you'll see my upcoming movie "Gidget Goes To Congress In A Handbasket". I have this one body and I'm trying to make it cute for as long as I can. The next panelist, though last is, well, it's Tom Hanks who, for his short life has been in so many movies! Hanks for the Memories! Hi, I'm Tom Hanks and if I had another movie to make, you know I wouldn't be here.

Okay it's back to me Tony Balonga, uh Bologna (it's supposed to rhyme) bet you forgot about me over here. I's time for that special part of our show where we sing our special little theme song. All together now: M-I-C-see you real soon!---K-E-Y-- -Why? because we- Oh, that's studio C. Pardon me. Now it's time to introduce our mystery guest with an unusual or perverted secret to the audience. Our secret guest is Donleve Haum Withotic. His secret is that he invented the first daytime diaper for adults who have tried Activia, Pepto-Dismal and Chaos-Pectate unsuccessfully. Let's begin by telling our panel a little about our guest. Our guest today is Donleve Haum Withotic and his secret is not MasterCard! Okay Jane, let's see if you can stumble upon Mr. Withotic's secret.
Jane: Mr. Withotic, I spent some time in Vietnam. Does your secret have anything to do with Vietnam?
Mr. Withotic: No, but I enjoyed seeing you in "Cat Ballou".
Jane: I was once married to Ted Turner.Does it have anything to do with Ted Turner? Donlev: Well, generally everything connects to Ted Turner in some way. When I think of Ted, it does remind me of my secret.
Tony: Okay let's see if Barack can solve this mystery, since he hasn't done much with the economy.
B.O.: Mr. Withotic, can I just call you Homey? Would your secret have anything to do with the White House?
Donleve: Actually that's where I got the idea from.
B.O.: Would this secret be qualified by my stimulus package?
Donleve: I'm afraid you're getting dangerously close to my secret, Mr. O'Bama! Tony: Okay, Silly, uh Sally, time for you to fly in and save the day!
Sally: I played a nun on TV and I think it's time for you to confess. Tell me your secret!
Donleve: This is not Moondoggie you're dealing with here. You're going to have to try a little harder than that!
Sally: Does your secret involve Burnt Reynolds?
Donleve: I'm not sure, but if not, it will soon!
Tony: Allright Tom Hanks, jump in that Volcano and save the day!
Tom: I have no response for that.
Tony: I believe that's Meg Ryan's line.
Tom: Right! Tell me now Donleve, does your secret have anything to do with running? Donleve: My secret is more to do with not running.
Tom: To infinity and beyond!
Tony: I believe that's Buz Lightyear's line.
Tom: Right! I went to the moon once - in a movie. Could this secret be something to do with going to the moon?
Donleve: In fact moon expeditions is what funded my initial research.
Tony: Okay folks, time is running out and it's such a shame! Some of you are literally sitting on the answer! Mr. Donleve Haum Withotic is the inventer of adult diapers - for those who couldn't make it otherwise. As a special surprise, everyone in our studio audience will receive a special "I've Got A Secret Edition" gift box of adult "Prevents" diapers. I noticed a few of you were leaving your seat during the show.

THIS HAS BEEN A "WACHER BACH-YURDON FORE PRODUCTION"

You didn't think I was gonna take the blame for it!? _

The Joys Of Pepper!

Hello it's me! Don't feel much like writing or what passes for writing so on this rare magmanamous occasion, in an effort to reach a more diverse audience, I am deferring my column to the ever famous, but sometimes quirky Famalda Hyde. Dr.Ms. Hyde is the best selling author of "Me First" and "What I Put In My Mouth Comes Out..". She has sold more of these books than anybody. She is the uncontested authority of pepperology and other hot stuff. So without further unnecessary build-up and fluff, here is Ms. Dr, Famalda Hyde! Enjoy!

Let me begin by saying that the world is in one big fat ugly mess! Not much we can do about that, but we can work on our own bodies. There are two obvious areas that need addressing - diet and exercise. My answer to both of those is PEPPER! Let's have a history lesson! Let's don't. Who said that? I'm writing this drivel! And for very little pay, I might add! HISTORY LESSON!

The history of pepper, "King of Spices" is the most fascinating of all spices! It dates back over 4000 years, yes before the Beatles. Yes, back in minus 1990 pepper was considered more valuable than gold. It was traded world-wide. Attila the Hun, not to be confused with Attila the delicatessen, demanded pepper as a ransom for Rome. Beginning with the Middle Ages, pepper was the key commodity of the European spice trade. Now just to keep the time line straight, the Middle Ages covered a period of time from the 5th to the 15th century. So, figuring backwards, which always works out best, that means the beginning of time was 500 B.C. and the end of time will be 2500 A.D. So let the good times roll! Anyhow, the Italian pepperers cornered the market by controlling the trade routes which was the beginning of the protection racket and the mafia as we know it. Had not pepper been legalized it would be smuggled in from India and sold on the black market today. Now that we know the history of pepper, we can take it with a grain of salt.
Now for a lesson in Horticulture. No! Yes! I'm writing this!
Pepper is the fruit of a venous plant, so is it a fruit or a spice? Technically it is a spruit. To further muddy the water, it is called a peppercorn, which does not make it a vegetable. Black pepper, although called a corn, is really a dried unripe berry. You might think of it as a raisin. Then again, you might think of Nancy Pelosi as Mother Teresa, but if you do, I have some Enron stock I'd like to sell you. White pepper starts out the same as black.

The world is black,
The world is white,
It turns by day,
And then by night

- Three Dog Night

Do you see how everything fits together?

Oh yeah, white pepper. White pepper is black pepper that is allowed to vine ripen and is then soaked in water until the shell falls off. Never seen white pepper? Because people are too impatient for it. Green pepper is harvested before it becomes mature and pink pepper comes from the French Island of Reunion. Figures.

Culinary Uses:
Black pepper can be ground into glass jars with holes in the lid and sprinkled on most foods although is not recommended on ice cream. White pepper is used in sauces where speckling is not desired. Mash green peppercorns with cinnamon or garlic or mix it in a sauce or use it to make butter. Pink peppercorns may be pulverized and infused into aerosol cans and sprayed on festive peacocks (plastic, not live).

Medical Report:
Pepper, sold as an over the counter remedy, can and will stimulant your taste buds and bring about reflux of gastric secretions which greatly improve digestion, possibly to the point of enabling you to leap tall buildings, jump hurdles and run the 100 yard dash in 9 seconds. Also supports flatulence which pollutes the environment, but why would you want to keep all that inside? The word pollute comes from the Russian root word, poot. Think our voters are crazy? Would someone name Pootin' ever get elected here? Pepper also depresses the appetite. If everything I ate had that strong peppery taste, I'd cut back.
I want to thank Wally for allowing me to guest write today and have one more thing to say. Please don't bother suing. I can only pay you off in pepper! Please read my upcoming books, "A World Without Pepper" and "What Do I Do With All Of This Pepper?"

Hey, me again! My apologies to all of you who really couldn't care less about pepper. Now you have found out, you really could care less. Perhaps in the future I might get her brother Raw Hyde to fill in.

Thought I'd end with a little poem

What are little boys made of?
Snakes and snails, and puppy dogs tails
That's what little boys are made of !"
What are little girls made of?
"Sugar and spice and everything thing nice
That's what little girls are made of!"

No wonder boys get off to a bad start! I've been told that all my life!

BAH!

RIGHT OF THE LIGHTS

i WOULD LIKE TO INTRODUCE YOU TO A NEW SYNDROME. IT'S CALLED STUCK ON 'ALL CAPS SYNDROME'. No, I'm not yelling at you. That was a mistake. I'm honest, so if you see other mustakes, it's just so you know I'm not prefect! The new syndrome I discovered is called "Right Of The lights" syndrome. I first became aware of it when my eyesight began to fail. If certain driving conditions exist after dark, like darkness, narrow unlined streets, rain and oncoming traffic,I observed that I can not see the lane in which I'm driving. Since these parameters have been removed from me, I must embrace another set of assumptions.
They are:
1.The drivers of the other vehicles have normal vision.
2. They will maintain lane congruence in the interest of their own safety.
3. They are not suicidal.
4. If oncoming traffic is approaching in their own lane, then there must be a lane for me, just to the right of where they are driving.
5. It is not my time to die.

So, when these conditions occur, I simply observe the trajectory of the oncoming vehicle and direct my vehicle to the imaginary lane, to the right of their headlights. I submit the fact that I am still here writing this dribble, as certification for the validity of my syndrome. I don't know how much a syndrome creator gets paid, but I hope it's enough to hire a driver.

The syndrome does not end here, or should I explain that it did not originate from here? You see in some cases, it is a personality disorder. In early childhood it is called the "Sock Twirling Syndrome". If a small child is handed a pair of socks with instructions to put them on his/her feet, he will do one of two things. Either he will put one on the left foot and the other on the right, or he will simply sit there and twirl the socks. I was a chronic sock twirler! If there was a Sock Twirlers Anonymous Association, I by very nature, would find a way around it. A sock twirler learns how to compensate for his shortcomings (lapses in responsibility) by filling in the gaps with assumptions and observations. He may ask a classmate to repeat what the teacher said, but never the teacher. If he doesn't understand something, there is a 75% chance some other student did not either. He simply waits for them to ask the embarrassing question and pays attention this time. If no one else asks the stupid question he will compensate by making a bad grade. He is sometimes mistaken for being stupid. But because he has exercised his powers of observation, he develops a very sharp mind which is sensitive to the motives and feelings of others. This skill enables him to calculate the outcome of many various ventures, saving him much valuable time which can be spent squinting at old TV reruns. When it comes time for vision test, he will fake his way through it, because, at least in the sixties, you could be cool and stupid at the same time, but not cool and dorky. Thus he learns when there is an uncomfortable situation, he can usually steer around it, much the same as a blind adult can steer to the right of the lights. This, aversion to learning (ATL) thing, turns out to be a benefit, since many of the former teachings are no longer considered facts. Bytheway, I started out in the ATL school system so that might also explain some things.

By the way, later in life he will progress to the next phase, commonly called senility. Then, at last, he will appear to be normal.

Peace everyone! And remember, it's your abnormalities that make you special!

FIVE BURGERS AND A GUY!

"Five Burgers and a Guy", that might be the title to my next autobiography. I'm planning to write this one about myself. Is it selfish to write about yourself in an autobiography? I'm not all that impressed that it took five guys to come up with a burger. I'm more interested in a - no, that doesn't sound right. I'm not interested in guys at all! I'd be more impressed by a guy who could eat five burgers. Not that that he'd get my vote for president. Then again, seeing what we have, he might be better qualified! What might his qualifications be?

1. He would be a true American. To my knowledge, none of the ingredients in a hamburger come from foreign lands.
2. He would be politically incorrect. Like that!
3. He would be curious enough to check out the oil spill.
4. He would not be out to re-invent the wheel, or the health-scare system.
5. He would be a man who sets high goals and acheives them.
6. He would be a man you could sit down and talk to, especially if you had hamburgers. A good listener.
7. Remember Hamburger Hill? Good! Me neither!

SO...Wimpie for President!!

Other news...
MARTA has, in an effort to cut costs, decided to close restrooms in MARTA Stations. They are also planning to eliminate 9 positions. I assume two of them would be sitting and standing.

While the North American economy seems to be careening down the highway of debt, the president was allegedly quoted as saying, "America can't just stick it's foot out".

The Fourth of July is fast approaching and some see that as discriminatory saying, "We don't celebrate the "fourth" of any other month"!

Anyway, Happy Independence Day!!

Farmer John's Eating Plan

Hello Friends!

Since the last time I wrote, I went to see my doctor, you know,I call him Dr TV Doctor. He actually went pretty easy on me. Considering he almost killed me, I guess that was the least he could do. And it was his birthday. The prescription he gave me for my triglycerides worked great! My triglycerides plummeted faster than Barock Obama in the popularity pole. You know, I never noticed his initials were B.O. And he still won! And neither Barack or Obama are recognized by spell check. Anyway, my liver enzymes shot up like weeds after a spring rain. So I said goodbye to Fibrates and hello to my liver. I only have one liver and I lovher.

As a consolation, he advised me to do Waist Watchers. At least he didn't ask me to do Jenny Craig! She can't be a very nice girl. He said I'd probably have a hundred reasons not to, but that if he told me of an investment that would return 30%, I would surely find the money to put into it. I wanted to know more about the investment. Well, I claim all of the 100 reasons plus one more. IT'S AGAINST MY RELIGION!! What self respecting male would subscribe to a diet plan? I don't like the idea of paying someone else for the pounds I lose. Under those rules, I would work as hard as I could to not lose the weight. I'd gain ten pounds and then they'd owe me! It's like at work they have a dress code because we want to APPEAR like professionals. We must wear slacks and collard shirts. OK, they have the right. Call me a rebel, but I couldn't find any shirts with collards on them. But on occasion you are allowed to wear jeans, if you donate money. Call me stubborn, but I dislike the idea of paying someone money in order to wear my own clothes!

But you know, there are no diet plans for men. But that's ok, because real men don't get pedicures or go on diets! See, body building sounds better than diet or weight control. All men want to build their bodies! And no man wants to do Jenny Craig..unless you mean..never mind! I'm calling my new plan."Farmer John".
Farmer John only has six rules.
!. If it grows on a farm you can eat it.
2. If your mother didn't tell you how much you can eat, then neither will I.
3. If it can be grilled, deep fried or boiled, you can eat it.
4. If it don't eat you, you can eat it.
5. If it has an English name, you can eat it.
6. You can eat it.

Now don't let rule five slide by. It's the only restrictive rule in there, but it's important. Have you ever eaten pig snot unawares? Well you can't answer that, can you? Because if you were unaware, then you wouldn't know. All of the restaurants think by repeating the name of their latest ingredient over and over, people will order every item on the menu that features said ingredient. If,
you don't learn anything else from this, please remember that I can spell ingredient with out spellcheck..so just WATCH OUT! For example, chipotle or habernara sauce. You see, I don't know what those are or how we got along without them for so long. Our soup dejour for the day is steamed crushed baby broccoli smothered in a rich sus crofa proboscis sauce. yeah, look it up. i did and I'm not eating it! I'm not sure, but I think "dejour" means leftover.

Here's the plan:
No books to buy.
No meetings to attend,
No food restictions (except number five - must have an english name)
No weigh-ins.
No blood tests.
No pre-packaged foods to buy.

So what, you may ask, is the catch? You may. All I want is for about 100,000 people to send me five dollars for permission to try my plan. No risk, No obligation. No brow beating. If the plan doesn't work for you, simply quit!
Send all monies to:

Farmer John Eating Plan
312 Ifoola U
Bigtime Ga 10101

What Happened To Me?

I finally figured out what's wrong with me. PSI. I'm not talking about pounds per square inch, but that needs working on too. Seems like it should be pounds per cubic inch or cubic foot. No, I'm talking about "Poor Self Image". Literally! Now I'm mad! All these years I've been looking in the mirror and thinking everything was cool. Seeing what I saw, you would too! I just realized that I've been looking at a false image, all this time! Did you know that what you see in a mirror is actually a reverse image of what you really look like? There's a bible verse about looking in the mirror, then walking away and forgetting what you looked like. I never had a chance! All this time, I thought I was cool, only to realize in the seventh inning, I've been parting my hair on the wrong side! Now I look like one of those idiots I use to laugh at for parting their hair on the left. I didn't know people were laughing at me. Sounds like a Bee Gees song,

"I Started A Joke"

I started a joke, which started the whole world crying,
but I didn't see that the joke was on me, oh no.

I started to cry, which started the whole world laughing,
oh, if I'd only seen that the joke was on me.

I looked at the skies, running my hands over my eyes,
and I fell out of bed, hurting my head from things that I'd said.

Til I finally died, which started the whole world living,
oh, if I'd only seen that the joke was on me.

Copy the link below and listen if you like.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RRNTQvXSsfA

I always liked the BeeGees. Their music was very sophisticated. It was usually very beautiful, but equally sad. I know most people remember them for their disco hits, but that was the BeeGees just "Staying Alive". Their "good stuff" was from the '60's. If you're interested, listen to the album "Odessa" or their greatest hits. Their name was short for "The Brothers Gibb". They were Barry and twins Robin and Maurice. Maurice sang and wrote, in reverse order,"I Started A Joke". He passed away a few years ago, supposedly of a heart attack, but I remember it was septic shock. Younger brother, Andy, also reportedly sang and died, in that order, of a heart attack, but at the time it was reported as drugs.

What?? Well I guess you're right. I haven't had any hair to part for 20 years or so. I went bald at 16. Whatever! You've heard of phantom pain or phantom reality? People who have lost a limb, have this sense in their brain that they can still control the limb. Not that they can control the limb wherever it went to. That would be weird! This guy has all of his limbs amputated, but he can still direct them to do his dirty deeds. Spooky!! I mean in their brain, they feel like the appendage is still there and they send signals to control it, but no one is home to answer. Of course you would have to actually have a brain for this to work. Anyway, I have phantom hair. I don't feel like a bald person. Ever wonder how a bald person feels? Pretty much like normal people. Sometimes I dream I have hair.It's pretty awesome! But,it's my thorn in the flesh, like I need something to remind me that I'm not perfect. Some say it's a solar panel for a sex machine. Well, I guess the batteries aren't hooked up.

It's only words, and words are all I have to take your heart away - Barry Gibb.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JECTUQVrvzE

Oh well, I'll be expecting a check from the Brothers Gibb any day now! Oh, I had another thought.! I try for at least one a day. If you ever get a chance, see the movie "Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band". It's the songs from the Beatle album, plus many other Beatle tunes,used to tell a story which is acted out. Most of the songs are sung by the Bee Gees. There is also George Burns singing "Fixing A Hole" and Steve Martin singing "Maxwells Silver Hammer". But no Beatles.

Had to get a message to you, so there it is

I'm just a clown that used to run around .
I used to have a million friends.
I used to start where ev'rybody ends .
So I just give my best to my friends.

ZOLPEDIN BLUES

I went to my doctor the other day-again. You never know what he's going to say, or do. This is my Dr.TV Doctor, the one who is not an actor, but plays one in real life. I always try to anticipate how the visit will go. First I organize my fears and expectations. Then, I check with my wife to see if she has anything to add. I was concerned that he might want to do my annual physical, even though I had one last year. I knew he would bug me about my cholesterol. My smarter, prettier half suggested I ask him for diabetes medication. So now I'm fully prepared. I got a pass on the physical. He poo-pooed (medical term) the diabetes medication and doubled my blood pressure medication. I'll meet his double and half it! The last time, he gave me a prescription for cholesterol drugs, even though I told him I didn't want it. I never filled it. This time, he gave me another one. I told him I would try it. Maybe I will. Lying to a doctor is not the same as lying to a regular person is it? I asked him about a sleep study. He said, "Do you wake up a lot during the night"? I said "Yes". He said, "That's all a sleep study will tell you and you already know that. I'm writing you a prescription for Zolpedin, that's a generic for Ambien". That's enough "he said-he said" stuff. So let's forget about the snoring, cessation of breathing, lack of oxygen thing. This will help you sleep through it. So now I take half a Zolpedin every night. Soon they'll have baby Zolpedin, so I don't have to half them. Now I sleep just fine. I don't dream or toss and turn. It's nice. But am I missing something? I usually have thoughts at night. And dreams, some weird, some frightening, some funny. Did I just give up 1/4 of my life? I feel like I'm sleeping through 30 per cent of my life. (Just wanted to see if you're paying attention or just skimming) Can you sleep through sleep? Is my life so bad that I should sleep through it? Should I be taking Zolpedaytime medication? Is it worth it? Yes! It's worth 3 bucks a month to sleep good every night!

Zolpedin Blues

I've been losing sleep at night
having bad dreams of you,
I'm walking like a zombie
and don't know what to do.
So I went to my physician
and here's what he said.
You can take yourself some Zolpedin
and sleep like the dead.

So now I've got the Zolpedin Blu-ues

My night are spent alone at the Zolpedin Hotel
I zone out with little pills and as far as I can tell
I'm losing 8 hours a day 'cause my brain has turned to gel
I can't think of you at all and I guess it's just as well
I've got the Zo-oh-wo-oh-wo-oh-wo-pe-deen Baluuuuues!

ZZZZZ--ZZZZZ--ZZZZZ--ZZZZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZZ!

W G O ?

If we had texting in the 60's, WGO would mean What's going on? If I may quote Marvin Gay, who was not. I don't know how many decades it's been since you've read a newspaper, so I thought I'd save you the trouble, and the 50 cents. This will be under the title:

NEWS YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD DO WITHOUT

This is my commentary on the Henry Nabor. Let me start by saying that this is Henry County's largest circulation newspaper, which means it is thrown in more yards than any other. This particular issue happened not to get wet. If you were to buy this paper, it would cost you 50 cents, which is why I'm not worried about getting sued. They'd have to sell a lot of papers to get enough money to sue me, unless they claimed indigence and received a court appointed lawyer. Which brings me to the headline article. Henry County is concerned, not the actual county, like the land and the trees and air space, but the people who run it, they, are concerned about the cost of providing public defenders to indigent members of society, like you and me. They, not the actual county, but the people who run the county, look out the window to see if the applicants show up in gasoline powered automobiles. If so, they qualify. If they show up on foot, then they should have been able to save up enough dough to hire a shadetree lawyer. The County, not the - you know, they have devised a more quantifiable artifice for ascertaining the true eligibility of the alleged indigent. They will visit the home of each individual. If the alleged indigent is not home they will assume the citizen is only half indigent and does not qualify for full assistance. Furthermore since all of the good attorneys are still counting their money from the O.J. trial, the only ones available are just semi-competent, so the semi-indigent should be able to afford them. It has been calculated that this new revelation is supposed to bag between $250,000 and $750,000 in savings for the public defenders budget. I love precision calculating. Like the auto mechanic who quotes, "This fan belt, excuse me serpentine belt installation will cost between $70 and $395". Guess which figure it will be closer to, before tax? I suppose they have to go to the Sistine Chapel for a serpentine belt. But one Henry County official, who shall remain nameless, and probably unreelectable, stated that the county would not likely see a drop in indigence. This may be the one actual fact in the article, since most indigence is government induced to begin with. Bytheway, whenever you see a government agency and the word "calculation" in the same sentence, you should always put a mis in front of it. That is, in front of calculation. The County, even though it is named Henry, is not gender specific, although the people who run it are reported to be. The new indigent accreditation program cost the county $74,000, which will come out of the public defender's budget. Go figure!! Wait! Not now. There's more...

INSIDE STORY: CELTIC FESTIVAL HELD IN STOCKBRIDGE!

This article caught my attention, firstly because the surrounding articles were even more boring and because of my total lack of interest in basketball, I wondered who they could get to play against the Celtics. And where would they play? Perhaps they could play in the horse arena? I heard that the proper ambiance was provided by the last event. A previous article reported that the state of the art horse arena does not meet standards for horse competition. I'm guessing that these thoroughbred equine species require more elegant accommodations. Now I am off the subject which was off the original subject. I discovered, much to my relief, that the Boston Celtics were not coming to Henry County. I discovered that these Celtics, no wait! I can't stand this! Is it Celtics, like "Seltics" or like "Keltics". It's important, to me because "Keltic" just runs through my ear like a jagged knife. O, thunderation! It is "Keltic"! Oh how I wish it were the basketball players (Seltics). All phobias aside, the Celtics are coming so that we can get in touch with our ancestors, the ones that preceded our nations founders in the old country by a few hundred years. The ones that go back 10,000 years. It is in question whether the very Earth is 10,000 years old, let alone our pre-historic European ancestors, who according to this article helped to shape and form western thought. My EYE! Yeah, I can just imagine some East Indian sitting on his camel, playing his lute and singing,
A cattle trail drunk and a hard road to travel,
That old Jack O' Diamonds is a hard card to play.
Get along, get along, get along little doggies,
Get along little doggies and be on your way.

Whoop-ee-ti-yi-o get along little doggies,
It's your misfortune and not of my own.
Whoop-ee-ti-yi-o get along little doggies,
You know that Wyoming will be your new home.

Some boys have bit this old cow trail for pleasure,
But that's where they get it most awfully wrong.
I wish I could tell you the troubles they give us,
As we go rolling these doggies along.

Whoop-ee-ti-yi-o get along little doggies,
It's your misfortune and not of my own.
Whoop-ee-ti-yi-o get along little doggies,
You know that Wyoming will be your new home.

This was written by Woodie Guthrie and was only sung by Hollywood cowboys as little Woodie had not entered this world until 1912, unless you use the carbon dating technique, which could run the clock back to 1595. At any rate, I am incapable of mentioning Woodie Guthrie without recounting the time when Bob Dylan as a young man, or whatever, came to his idol, Woodie Guthrie. He played a few of his songs for Woodie and Woodie's appraisal was this. Bob, you have a truly great voice, but you're going to have to work on those lyrics! If you didn't fall down laughing on that one, I'll assume you were already on the floor! Or, you're not that familiar with Bob Dylan. Anyway, a humorous story that has to be explained, is not humorous.

That's enough news for today.

NUTRITION: IS THERE A LOOPHOLE?

I guess you know about facebook. If not, for just 5 hours a day, I can solve your food, tv and floor-licking addictions. It's what we have come to know as AC, addiction consolidation. I promise, if you don't drastically cut back on your addiction of choice, you can come to my house and lick the floors, because I am seriously behind (on my floor licking).

I received a friend invitation on facebook today. I wondered how she knew me, or how I knew her, or if I wanted to know her. I think it's the Ma Kettle flight attendant from my first airline flight. My previous flights did not include attendants, or airplanes. I was interested. So, I read on..as you may want to do. Ever notice how you keep reading on, even when you're not interested. Who knows, you might find something valuable in here..like grounds for a lawsuit. Reading on, I learned that we have (she thinks) something in common..NUTRITION. Those who know me, realize that nothing could be further from or less congruent with the truth! I am very concerned about nutrition - the way that some people are very concerned about snakes. If you don't recognize it, how can you avoid it? Why, they're putting vegetables in everything now. The root word for nutrition is the Latin word nut.
Nut-someone who is so ardently devoted to something that it resembles an addiction; a tennis nut, a beach nut, a environmental nut. Alternate definition from the NTD-New Twisted Dictionary: Nut-one who would seek democratic office, also one who would vote for a democrap The suffix of nutrition comes from the word trite:Lacking power to evoke interest through overuse or repetition. NTD trite-food that would not be eaten by starving dogs. These lovers of cardboard food, believe that if you follow the eating habits of the wild turtle, you may live from 100 to 150 years.I guess from 0 to 100, you're just waiting for the taste buds to kick in. What else can a turtle do? And how wild can a turtle really be? Never saw one with a six-pack and a boom box. That would be a boom-box turtle (thrown in for humor). Don't take everything you read here seriously! I have also been thrown out for humor a few times. Unless you believe in the fictional Ninja Turtles and the national health-nut care plan, turtles live an extremely sedate life. Perhaps if they ate some red meat and ice cream they could sit up and watch tv, like normal people. DAILY TURTLE HEADLINES: Two turtles tangle at Tim/Tom's Turtle Tavern over a stripper. The two torts head-butted for a couple hours, then fell asleep, while the tart-tort crawled back into her shell. No one was hurt. Imagine a whole race where everyone has an Eeyore complex. Do you ever see two turtles in the woods? The average turtle spends about 50 years of his life looking for another turtle. Not Mr. or Mrs. Right Turtle, just another turtle. If it happens to be the wrong sex, which takes three more years to determine, then you start all over again.
Do I want to order from the Healthy Choice menu? Does a turtle have wings? I like the diet menu at Silver Coral. I eat a balanced diet there from all four food groups - steak, ribs, ham and fried chicken. And I follow the "Carnivores Rules And Practices" for good health. I eat no piece of meat bigger than my hand. It hard to get all of those pieces on my plate, but I do it! They have a Carla Dean menu there. I love the Carla-Dean Shepherds Pie using soy bean and whole grain corn curd. They start with a layer of Irish potatos.(in honor of Dan Quale)smotherd with a stick of butter, put a 1/2 cup of crushed, not pureed soy bean in a bowl. On top of the potatos and butter add a pound of ground beef (already browned), add another layer of potatos, then butter. every time you add butter, add salt - it's a rule. 1/2 pound of bacon. Sprinkle 1/4 cup of corn curd over the soy beans in a bowl. add a layer of black-eyed peas and sliced tomatos and a handful of onions and top it off with another layer of Irish potatos and butter (salt). throw the soy bean and corn curd in the trash and serve! Wal-lah!!

Bottom line is, if you want to be my friend, think of something more interesting than nutrition.

see ya in the funny papers!

Things are not what they seem - or are they?

Hi folks,

Hope things are well with you. Me? I've got 20/20 vision! You know, I see things 20 feet away as if it were 20 blocks. Or some times, not at all! Better yet, sometimes I see things that aren't even there, without medication. But I'm no fool! Big surprise. I don't speak everything I see. I have learned not to trust my eyes, or my brain. When I see something strange, I wait until I get a little closer before I speak, because that might not have been an elephant in the neighbors driveway. The other night, I was sitting at my usual place on the couch, where only I, normally sit. And sometimes eat - food. I was sitting there and looked down beside me and saw what appeared to be a small morsel of food. It looked like a bean or a piece of a pretzel or something. I had a decision to make. We make decisions all day long. Do I wear this shirt or that one? Do I watch Becker or My Name is Earl? Do I bomb Afghanistan or hoist a few with Rev. Wright? Here's the thing. (A)I could put this thing in the trash can, but that would be labor intensive. (B) I could give it to Rusty Bullet (my dog), but he was comfortably curled up with my wife. Something is wrong with that scenario. (3) I could just eat it. Now am I a 56 year old or a 56 week old? You judge. I assumed I had previously dropped this thing (5 hour rule) so it should be okay to eat. So, I put this unknown substance in my mouth. This was one of those situations where you don't have to wait to see if your choice was right. I decided this thing might have been some kind of pill. But first, I decided to clutch my throat and run past the trash can, where I could have deposited the thing, grab the nearest glass and drink tap water! It's like the time at Pizza Hut when I decided to to taste one of those things, that you sprinkle on food from a bottle on the table. I drank the whole pitcher of coke. I apologized and bought the Johnsons another pitcher. You're supposed to scrape microscopic slithers off these little things and stir them into a bath tub full of chili. You could serve this to the entire house of representatives. Without TUMS. Let's see how many vacate their seats! Needless to say, I won't be doing anything like that again. Not for a long time! Unless I become ????? What's that word for people who can't remember things?
I did learn my lesson. We were all put here for a reason. I think I was put here to learn not to do stupid things. The only reason I'm still here. is because I am still afflicted with chronic stupidity. God doesn't want stupid people in heaven. I'm kidding! Stop worrying. God loves stupid people. He must, or He wouldn't have made so many of them! (old but still funny) I like spray deodorant. That way the applicator doesn't have to touch your armpit, or anyone else's. Besides, that cool mist is refreshing! I've had this tall green can of Brut on my bathroom counter for a year or so now. It quit working shortly after I bought it. This made me sad. I figured the nozzle had become clogged. Makes sense. My dad abstains from using deodorant. I guess at that age, who cares what you smell like. He always said, "If something can make you stop sweating, what else is it doing to you. Your body is supposed to sweat". Well, the other day I decided to try this Brut deodorant one more time before throwing it away. I thought of aiming this into my mouth or some other crazy place, because I was 99.97% sure it wouldn't work. But not being totally stupid, I aimed it at the usual place. To my great surprise, it worked. Now, am I a genius or what? I'm guessing, what.

We've come to the medical news portion of my rag. Notice, I did not say medical advice. I AM NOT A DOCTOR! What you read here is for information only. Here's a simple home remedy. If you use an asthma inhaler or have COPD this might be helpful. Emphasis on MIGHT. If a COPD (COunty Police Department) car pulls you over, start inhaling frantically on your inhaler. Between breaths say INHALE -I'm glad you're here-INHALE- I need help-INHALE-I just dialed 911- INHALE-I can't believe you got here so quick! Here's what I learned about Inhalers. One called Symbicord actually contains Ford motor oil. I thought I was hearing things, but that's what the commercial says. It contains Fordmotoroil. I believe you could make your own. I have some Fordmotoroil which has aged nicely. It's dark and thick, like that fancy steak sauce. You could probably smother your steak with Fordmotoroil and it would act as a laxitive. Fordmotoroil can also be used to treat cedar siding. Now I'm not stupid and don't think me a fool. I know it doesn't have to be "Ford" motor oil! It could be Japanese motor oil. But there would be side effects. When you sneeze, it will sound like ah-ah-ah KAWA-sakee. Or ah-ah-ah toYota. Or the genteel ladies may sneeze like ah-ah Nissan! Dat-so? No, dey hadn't made Datsuns for years.

Don't you love new products. I think we may be giving our dogs a complex though, if they watch tv. Does your dog poop and then look back in disgust? No wonder! The commercials are pressuring your dog to be an optimal pooper. I'm not making this up! Someone is, but it's not me! You can control the color of their output by controlling their input. It's called designer poop. I once had a dog who ate crayons.You can imagine what that looked like, especially if she had swallowed hair also. It would make a nice colorful necklace! Oh, I just love your necklace!! Where ever did you get it! It's a Giovani original. He could make one for you if you like. The other doggie thing they are offering is a poop mat. You place the mat on the floor and your dog just loves to poop on it - more than any other place. If you have small children you should keep them separated because they are quick learners. If you could get your pooch to poop the color of your carpet, the stains would be minimized to the point where a spoonful of gasoline and a match would take care of it. DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME unless you are a certified trained professional.

Other products. I get ads for Motor Meant. They make die-cast metal replicas of automobiles. I have a few. They are quite nice. They send ads that say things like, "Our customers keep asking, how can you sell these quality products for only $12.95"? But they never answer themselves. The way they can do this is they also send you some sort of free gift. Then they charge you shipping and handling on the product and the gift. So your total purchase price ends up at $95.12. Remember people, things are not always or even often what they seem. Because you are reading all of this, I know you're smarter than most people, or just very bored. I keep seeing Magic Jack on TV. I know it's a gimmick, so I checked it out. You know you can't get quality phone service for $19.95 a year. It's a voice over internet deal. Every time you make a phone call your personal files are sent to 40 million people including John Edwards. When you dial 911 you get Pizza Hut and they deliver a pizza to William Shatner. And the clincher is if I dial a 900 number, I get Rosie O'Dognal! At least that's what I heard.

Don't be sucked in by get poor quick schemes. It if sounds cheap, it is. It's cheap/expensive. Best advice is don't buy anything. Eat the food in your freezer and call me back in a month.

I wish everyone well! All for now.

Neanderthrill Man!

Hello my friends,
You are so special for many reasons. One of them is that you appreciate how young I am! You are never more close to someone than when you share the same boat. I never thought much about that saying 'We're all in the same boat" until now. I just realized that, hopefully, my friends, and I guess, really old people are the only ones who might think I'm still young, or at least, not old. I have been on a boat with some friends before. A really huge boat, with thousands of people. All kinds of people. People like me and people not like me. But, I am also in a figurative boat and the older I get, the smaller this boat becomes. So, welcome friends to my boat! It just hit me that most of the people in the world are younger than I (am). I suppose the "am" is assumed, but I'm used to being assumed, if that's anything like being ignored. Today, I reached the intersection of Chambers Rd and McCullough Rd (in my car). I realize that my readers in Nova-Scotia will not relate to this, but I'm not a'boat to lose sleep over it. Speaking of Nova Scotia, I guess you heard about the climate change conference in Copenhagen. It galls me that mankind is so self important that he thinks he can control the climate. He will find some way to put a big dial in the sky, so we can change the temperature. But what if North Korea wants it's own dial. How many people have access to the dial? Remember in the bible when they tried to build a tower to the sky and God said, "No, you're not installing a thermostat! And so He separated the peoples. Well mankind has pretty much managed to mess it all up again. He will spend billions on the study of the control of greenhouse gases. Do you know how many hamburgers McDonald's has sold. You'd think it would be the first thing you see on their website, but I couldn't even find it. Don't worry, it's on Wikipedia. They have sold over 100 billion hamburgers, but it took over 54 years to do it How long do you think it will take our present administration, whose leader is younger than I (am) to spend 100 billion dollars? Less than 54 months! It would be better spent on the control of chicken house gases. I don't know if chickens emit methane gas like cows, but seriously, with all of the economic concerns of today, we don't need to spend money on trying to control the weather. They show video footage of all of the poor and sick people who are suffering and starving in the heat, while they twiddle their thumbs and think of ways to spend money. They're all meeting in Copenhagen now to talk about this some more. Have they heard of teleconferencing? Why couldn't they meet in Bangladesh or Nubia or Griffin? Copenhagen is the perfect place. It's romantic with all of the castles and city waterways with gondolas and the arts. It's ironic that the city where "anything goes" is so picky about the environment, but I guess that's like the pot calling the kettle black. On second thought, let's send all of the politicians there and maybe they won't come back!
Wheww! That's somehow gets me back to my original point. I was waiting to turn left from Chambers to McCullough and the oncoming vehicle hesitated, after waiting for their right of way and I mistakenly thought they were being kind, and letting me make my turn. I eased forward and received a dirty look. I apologize, I thought you were just being kind. My mistake. Southern drivers are often kind and courteous. It must have been an out-of-towner. If you ever get a chance, watch "The Out of Towners", the old Jack Lemmon/Sandy Dennis version.
My 80 year old uncle had his DNA tested to discover our ancestry, which applies to me, since his parents were my grandparents. So I'm learning about my past, which they are dating back 150,000 years. Now, the bible tells me that man was created about 8000 years ago, so I will take this info with a block of salt. Supposedly my ancestors started in Egypt, traveled thru Libya, Tunisia, Greece, Turkey, Belarus, Denmark and ended up around Norway or maybe Copenhagen. They probably became Vikings or Volga Boat Men. Thus my love for music. the rowers would sing"Volga boat men, we're Volga boat men". Anyway, I don't believe in this stuff. It's like carbon dating. I don't believe in dating twins, but if I did, it would be one at a time. It's a non-issue now, as it was then. They expect me to believe they can tell the difference between something that is 19 million years old and something that is only 7 million years old. I don't even keep up with how old the things are in my fridgerator. If it's not green or furry, I eat it. So far, so good. So I found out I belong to a haplogroup. everyone does. Haplogroup H. Also Subclave Group H. Armed with this information I can bravely challenge the world, knowing that my ancestors survived everything the world could throw at them. Judging from all of the markers they left behind, I can assume they were Vikings, Explorers, Aristocrats, world travelers, or perhaps misfits, getting kicked out of every region they settled in. They say I have many thousands of ancestors so they must have been very free with their DNA. At any rate, the more we learn about our ancestors, the more we understand how bad we are, because people are just plain bad.

Oh well, let's chalk this one up to political commentary and close with this bit of timely advice: "Cruise while you can, for tomorrow the world runs on chicken poop".

Silent night!

All We Are Saying, Is Give Funny A Chance"

Here I am quoting, albeit, not verbatim, John Lennon. How strange!! But once again I'm trusting my precious readers to an untested source. Please walk into the mine field of comedy with Jerry Meinfield! Notice I didn't say "give it up for". It's kind of silly to give it up before you've read it.

My Very First Comedy Performance
by Jerry Meinfield

When I was first breaking into comedy...like it’s Fort Knox and you have to break into it. Imagine being so brazen as to break in to this place and try to steal everyone's laughter. When you first start out in comedy, you have to join a comedy union. At least that’s what “some guys” told me. Bytheway, never do what “some guys” tell you to do. They explained to me that it provided an exclusive double indemnity insurance policy. Like if I die twice, they pay off! More like the protection racket. So I said, that’s okay, because I practice “safe comedy”. They said I might try working on a routine that involved broken kneecaps, because comedy usually comes out of your experiences. So I decided a small policy couldn’t hurt, whereas no policy would be painful. And though funny, not worth it! These guys said I should start out playing the bars. A few drinks and they’ll laugh at anything! It helps if the audience is drinking too. Well, actually I was behind some local bars, like the Federal Pen. Bang Zoom! Right to the top!
They promised me a captive audience. Well, let me tell you, a captive audience does not a “captivated” audience make. Neither does an incarcerated one. I had heard that Al Capone had served some time here back in 1932 and the legend is very much alive. Some say his spirit still seems to lurk the dark and danky cells. I’ve been wanting to use that word - danky. Long and lanky, dark and danky, clear and clanky. Those phrases conjure up really, vivid images. Very imagerous! I asked the inn keepers, uh inn mates. Oh, maybe that’s why they looked at me strangely. I asked the striped people. There are two kinds of people. Those who correctly say striped and those who ignorantly say stripe-ped. If you're one of the ignorant ones, just add this to your list of things to ignore. Anyway, I asked the audience if they believed in re-incarnation. You remember, the whole Capone thing? A few said that they had indeed been reincarcerated for the same thing, three times! They totally missed the point, but since their point was sharper than mine, I allowed them to prevail.
Would you believe they almost closed the Federal Pen down in the 80’s? But about that time the Grant Park Zoo became Zoo Atlanta and with that backwards name they turned the whole zoo backwards. Used to be the animals were behind bars and you could walk right up and stare at them, and they, you. Now you walk past their private estate, which you pay for, and hope they might decide to come out and give you a look, but if not, tough bwana nuts. Well someone, probably one of the Candler’s, got to missing the old zoo and decided to save the prison. I thought it would make a great amusement park. It has a wonderful location. It could have a wax museum and a spook house, laundry cart roller coaster, escaped convict shooting galley etc. It’s just down the road from the zoo at the wrong end of Boulevard. The Grant Park district is now a very high dollar, renovated historical community.. My house on the other hand was novated about 8 years ago and it’s now ready for renovation. The Pen on Boulevard would be a perfect condo project. The ideal gated golf community, with beautiful green lawns. It would be Atlanta’s first Segre-gated community with more than 8 distinctly separate sections. There‘s The Play Pen, The Bull Pen. The Safety Pen, The Firing Pen, The Fountain Pen, The Straight Pen, Hair Pen, Bowling Pen you know for hair salon, daycare, ballfield, watering hole etc. It would house restaurants, an amphitheater, a world class fitness center. It has everything. It would be like the old Cabbage Town Fulton Bag and Cotton Mill just down the road - times fifty. Many people don’t know how the sport of softball originated from Cabbage Town. The mill opened in 1860 and recruited poor Irish/Scotts to live in the shotgun houses and work the mill. They soon found that dogs could not do this type of work, so they hired their masters. In 1865 a train derailed on a sharp curve, dumping a shipment of cabbages, so the residents grabbed the cabbages and began growing and cooking them which made the neighborhood reek with the smell of burning rubber. Kidding, it was the smell of boiled cabbage. The cabbage patch kids would sing:
Chorus: Boil that cabbage down,
Bake that hoecake brown.
The onliest song I ever did sing
Is "Boil That Cabbage Down."

Once I had an old gray horse;
Rode him down to town.
'Fore I got my trading done,
The buzzards had him down.
(Chorus)
Wish I had a needle and thread,
As fine as I could sew.
I'd sew that girlie to my coat,
And down the road I'd go.
(Chorus)
Wisht I had a nickel,
Wisht I had a dime,
Wisht I had a pretty little girl
To love me all the time.
Google Smothers Brothers Boil that Cabbage down for an audio/video version.

Anyway, the neighborhood kids couldn’t afford sporting goods, so they started playing baseball with a cabbage and a broomstick bat, which later became known as softball. They eventually became the Atlanta Crackers, because a real slugger, like Max Baer (renowned southern boxer, also father of Max Baer Jr, aka Jethro Bodine) could hit the cabbage so hard it would crack. By the time the opponent could field the broken cabbage, the batter would be on third base. Thus the southern delicacy, Baer Battered Cabbage.

For now, it’s home to 957 of the baddest neighbors you’d ever want to meet. If I can make these guys laugh, perhaps I could play the Monastery next time. The first thing a comedian must do is consider his audience, what they go thru, what makes them laugh, what makes them not want to kill you? They’re just regular people who are going thru a tough time. I decided perhaps my comic hero, Bob Hope had set a good example with his USO shows, so I might try to emulate him. Hi guys, this is Jerry - love what you’ve done with the place - Mienfield. Thought I’d drop in and see what the attraction is for this castle. I requested a reservation, but the warden said it was booked from ten to twenty.. Said I’d have to wait for a vacancy. As luck has it there’s a vacancy at midnight unless the governor intervenes. I unplugged the phone so Mr. 4952613, please be sure to clear your stuff out by say, nine-thirtyish.. But you should see the cab service. I hitched a ride in an FBI cab. They slowed down to 50, opened the back door and let me out at the curb. They didn’t wait around for the tip. I guess they knew the door man would take it when I come in. I heard there weren’t any females here, so I brought a few. These are wholesome broads. Oh, I should have said these are some whole broads! No missing parts! Some are relocated, but everything’s still there. Yep, these are real put together ladies. You can ask their surgeons!. A couple of them can even take their own teeth out! The rest need help. These women can actually predict the future, which is what most people predict. I used to predict the past. It’s pretty handy being able to tell people what happened even after it happened. Only one lady didn’t like her husbands past and - I think that’s her in the fifth row with the daggers tattooed on her armpits. Anyway, for you guys that have 20 or 30 to go, these gals can show you how your wives will look when you get out! Makes you want to re-up doesn’t it? They brought you some pies and cakes. They promised not to put saws in the cakes, but I believe you could cut the bars with a pie crust.

Well I’m afraid that’s about all the time I have left. I mean, if I don’t leave now, I’m really afraid that my time is up. You’ve been a real killer audience or, um, I mean it’s been nice getting to know you and I’ll write real soon.
Boy! Where are “some guys“ when you really need them??
Don’t laugh ’till you get outside the gates!

WHERE DOES FUNNY GO?

What happens when funny leaves town?
Does he forget about those he once entertained?
Does he abandon us all to sorrow and pain?
When laughter's on leave, it's replaced by a frown.
What happens to us when funny leaves town?

Why did funny leave?
Was I so poor of a host, indeed?
I never meant to neglect so kind a friend.
Or to take him for granted or cast to the wind.
Oh what did I do to drive him away?
I'll have funny back and make him at home
For funny should never be let out alone.

Melodramatic..a little. It's kind of like an enema. You just have to get it out so better things can come. Where does funny go, when it gets tired? To a funny farm? Here's the thing. I haven't felt funny in a l-o-o-ng time. Not sure why, but I think it might have to do with numbers. I've been playing Sudoku which is a game involving numbers. The ones in the front of the book are easy. The one's at the end are too hard. The ones in the middle are just right! Like Goldilocks and the Three Bores. I may get stuck on a hard Sudoku for a whole week, but I can finally understand it and figure it out! No, I take it back. You don't understand math. Math just is! You can know it, but there is little to understand. No compassion in math. No humor in math itself. You can interject some humor using math. Such as, "She has the most beautiful teeth"! Both of them! Wait, both is a word instead of a number. I guess it implies a number. I understand that odd numbers are funnier than even.

Anyway, I just finished a hard Sudoku. If I look hard enough and long enough and with enough different viewpoints, I can solve it. It proves I'm not stupid. I can do math and space and order if I concentrate enough. But I've had enough of enough! And enough enough is enough! I also play Spider Solitaire. My high score is 85. Not that big of a deal, but it's been my high score for months and months. I want to beat that score and then I'll quit. The spell will be broken. I can be funny again. I want to score at least 86, proving to myself that it will never again be worth that much of my time again to try for 87. I believe for those totally lacking mathematical, spacial and organizational skills, that number games are quite valuable and even therapeutic, but alas, I've had enough!

Thank you for being patient. Had to get this out of the way to make room for some other foolishness that is starting to drivel in. I hope you will give funny a place in your life and show gloom the door!

Speaking of things I have lost, besides funny, here's a list. I recently lost a large box of Cheerios. I'm OCD about garbage. I fold my garbage and put things inside of things. I had a large empty box on the kitchen counter that I was filling with other trash to conserve space. Being that this box was empty, I had bought a new identical one. Next day i have a bowl of Cheerios out of the new box and then proceed to throw it in the garbage, outside. Next day, when I want Cheerios, all I have is folded trash! Wouldn't it be nice if they put something in Cheerios that would actually cheer you up? Like dollar bills or a mind altering substance?
The worst thing I lost was my grandfathers Elgin pocket watch. Of all things I took it on a swimming trip with the bus ministry and it fell out of the hole in my cut-offs.
I lose sleep all of the time
I lost (sold) my 69 Camaro. It made sense at the time. Still does. it's one of those mature things you wish you didn't have to do. Did you know the word Camaro, is not even in spellcheck. What's the world coming to? Also spellcheck is not in spellcheck.
Lost my hair. I saw that one coming or should I say going. My mothers brothers were all bald. By the way, my uncle just did a DNA test, so I'm going to find out who's responsible. My ancestors were probably Monks. THAT'S why I'm so quiet! In those days, if you were bald they took you outside the city and put you in a commune, so all you could do was chant and pray.
I lost the Peachtree Road Race..11 times. I finally gave up
The worst thing I ever lost was my mom, but God has her, so it's ok. She was the best!


Love, laughter and smiles to you - Good night!

. . .

LESS THAN ZERO!

Hello loyal subjects,
I write a lot about not sleeping, but that's what I do a lot - not sleep!. Last night I couldn't get to sleep at all (Fifth Dimension). Those guys are getting on in years. I heard that some of them are still living and performing under the name Fifth Dementia. The rest retreated into an underground group. Sometimes I can't get to sleep, but often, I can get to sleep, but I have night mares, which are different than day mares, because they don't eat or poop. But they are way more scary. It's from the limited TV viewing. All we get are shows about hunting down perpetrators of violent crime. They always include gruesome scenes and contain very little humor. I am glad that the all-Michael-all the time has stopped.

Well last night I turned on the tube. and found the peanut channel. It was sponsored by the FBI so I thought it might be cool! Until I realized that stands for FARM BUREAU of IOWA. What else did I have to do. I could clean the frozen coke out of our freezer, but that would only bring more night mares. Anyway they were touting the Three Day Peanut Tour. I've seen peanut fields before and they are simply captivating! For about 19 minutes, then you're ready to get back to the pool. Then they visited AA. The Asparagus Association. It's a co-dependent society for people with asparagus disorders. Those afflicted with this condition develop fixations on asparagus, ranging from only eating foods containing asparagus to actually building a life sized asparagus doll and legally marrying this Asparadoll. Research is being done to find a cure, so if y9u get a solicitation. from the Asparagus Society, please contribute. I'm working on a bill to prevent the growing of and the selling of asparagus for human or animal consumption. We must do what we can to free these people. I'm not suggesting asparacide. What I'm saying is that we need to find other uses, like asparagus paper, asparagus fired electricity plants, asparagus clothing, fertilizer, ornamental plants etc. The government should penalize restaurants that serve asparagus. Or is the plural asparagai?

The other thing on TV besides not Leno - by the way, Leno needs to be on late night TV. His show is too dirty for 10:00 o'clock. Wait a minute, 95% of daytime tv needs to be on late night tv and then they need to play the National Anthem at 11:00 and go off the air. There, that's my sermon for the day! The other thing you see a lot of is weight loss shows. There is one now, rightly named "The Insanity Workout". You don't get any pills or diet shakes with this one. You don't get any exercise equipment. Not even a magic girdle! All you get is 10 DVD's! NEWS BULLETIN!! No one will ever get past the 3rd dvd. On DVD*1 this guy just stands there and jumps up and down. On DVD#2 he does jumping jacks-really fast!. Try to keep up! DVD#3 - running in place. DVD#4 - running in circles. DVD#5 - low kicks. DVD#6 - high kicks. DVD#7- kicking your own butt. DVD#8 Swinging your fist at the guy doing one arm hand clapping, twirling push ups. DVD#9 - throwing the other 8 DVD's in the trash. DVD#10 - legal gobbledygook about how you can't sue the producers, actors, musicians, writers, camera man or anyone who has ever heard of the Insanity Workout.
Oh, the "Less than Zero" thing? I'm now addicted to Coke Zero. and didn't have my quota the last three days so maybe I'm a little down. Too depressed to sleep. Not seriously depressed and not quite in the coma stage. If it were so, I could get help, but I'm just in a little funk. It's like if you had pneumonia you could get cured, but you just have to suffer thru the common cold. What I need is a defunkyfier. If you see an infomercial for one, let me know.

I actually wrote this a month ago, but it didn't seem entertaining enough. But after a 7 week dry spell, I read it again and decided there might be one person or maybe one-half person who would shudder, almost stifle a laugh before going to watch late night tv.

Good night all.

Superb Owl

Hello Dear friends and those who will read just about anything!

Got bored and went to bed early, like 8 o'clock or something. then got up again at 12:30 or 1:00. Ate some stuff I shouldn't have and tried to find something on TV besides red carpet reviews. Then I remembered something I had seen at work yestertoday. That's a new word. "Yestertoday" means the day that we called today, yesterday. it simplifies things. And I get to collect royalties every time you use it. So, feel free! It was something about the Superb Owl. It's an exclusive restaurant that is only open one Sunday a year in January. I've never been, but I think I'd like to go. I understand you have to get tickets and they're 8000 bucks or so a piece, so my wife would have to win the lottery. I don't play because I really don't like to gamble. About as the riskiest thing I do is open a banana. That's it! I like the excitement - the danger and anticipation! You never know what's going to be in there until you open it! So far I'm batting 10,000, but one day my luck will run out. I just hope it's not something like a maggot farm or dead fish!
Anyway, this SuperB owl sounds like an exhilarating experience!! The restaurant holds about 100,000 people, so only the elite can get in. They sit on hard plastic chairs and you just hold your plate in your lap. It looks like most people order hot dogs and pizza. Must be some great hot dogs! And they run out of coke early, 'cause a lot of people are drinking beer. Lot's of it! I don't know who actually gets to eat the SuperB owl. I'm guessing they only have one, since you never see it. in fact it's a very covert operation. You never, EVER, hear anyone speak of it. But if you ask about it they always say HOO? so the word is spreading. They have to hold this secret dinner in a different place every year to keep from being caught. The owl is a protected species, but I can't see that killing one a year should be such a big deal. Besides, can you see Elmer Fudd out there in the dark twying to shoot an owl? I'm gonna twick that cwazy owl. Oh Mr. Owl, come out of that twee and see my wabbit! There are some owls in the woods behind my house. You might say that I'm an owl-owner, but not to loud. You see, these are bad owls. At night, they make these hideous sounds! There are at least two of them. One makes a sound like a war cry and the other makes the sound of a wounded animal. Once, about midnight I went walking down the street to see if I could ascertain where the owl screams might be coming from. A neighbor was standing on the hood of his truck and his wife was at the bathroom window. They were visibly shaken, not knowing what these screams were. If you've ever read Frank Perretti's books you would be too. It sounds like some monsterous demon devouring it's prey. We should catch this thing and grill it for dinner. I guess you would have to call it "burning the midnight owl". At the SuberB owl, you have a long wait time, so they put on a little sporting event. What it was, was football. Andy Griffith can explain this much better than I. When all the players get tired and have to go in for nap time, somebody comes out and sings. Some of the performers have died after doing this, so if they ask me, I think I'll decline. Most of these places have a huge TV hanging from the ceiling, but they usually just show whatever is going on in the yard below. Seems like they could show a movie, "North By Northwest" is good on the big screen. "Lil Abner" was always a crowd pleaser too! They also have these young ladies in little costumes shouting things to keep the crowd moving. things like, "Hold that line" and "Push 'em Back" or "Go Dawgs", I guess since they ran out of Owl..

We did try to get a preview of the "SuperB owl" by going to the "Owl Cafe" in Apalachicola, but it was a rip off. Turned out, they specialized in seafood. Closest thing I saw to owl was the painting of the proprietor, with the big round eyes and bushy eyebrows. I figured owl would not actually be on the menu, so I asked the waitress if I could secretly order the "owl" off the menu. We could just call it "Peacock" for code, but she insisted that no such item was ever cooked there. She probably thought I was a secret agent, because I was dressed like all the tourist in town, which made it obvious that I was trying to blend in. But that's my normal M.O. I'm like Wally Cox. He used to say he has a face that looks like it's already been waited on. He quit saying that after he died. A little known fact is that little diminutive, shy Wally Cox used to run around with Marlon Brando. Come to think of it, Marlon and Wally sounds like a couple of nerds. Anyway, at the Owl Cafe, I ordered Jumbo Shrimp, which is like ordering Tiny Whale. It's an oxymoron. They were the largest shrimp I have seen anywhere and they were superb! They must have been on steroids! This was supposed to be elegant dining and I guess it's as close as you get in the "Oyster Capital of the World". I guess they could get away with saying that because no one else knows they're there. Two things I didn't like. They had real cloth tablecloths. and then on top of that, they had paper tablecloths! A plain table would have been fine. That's like the plastic slipcovers from the sixties, for your couches. Could you imagine on a sweltering, hot July day coming in from cutting the grass, shirtless (men only) getting a tall glass of sweet iced tea, with lemon and laying down on that plastic couch. Ugh, sticky, yuck! Plastic doesn't absorb! You just lay there in your sweat!! Women, please just don't even think of this at all. It's a man thing! Oh, by the way, it was my birthday the other day. Thanks, it was really nothing. I have one every year, whether I plan it or not. It's automatic. My wife wanted me to get one of those GT Worx weed-eater/yard edger/shoe shiner/milk-shake-maker things. I was hesitant, because I already have two weedeater things, a cordless and a corded one. They are both crippled and don't do a very good job, but appropriately, neither do I, so it's equitable. But, she threw in a bonus!! As part of the gift, she will do the edging for me! I thought this over with a serious wrinkle. I had to make it not look like a slam dunk! YESS!! Baby, would you like to get me a new lawn mower for Christmas!? Since then, I've been tasting my food in tiny bites, just to be safe. This thing does it all! It edges! It trims weeds. of course I could just kill the weeds instead of manicuring them. It cleans my whitewalls. It whistles at the joggers running by. Let's hope it does all of this in 20 to 30 minutes, because that's how long the battery last. After you properly break it in, so as to get the maximum run time. Of course, you can order extra rechargeable batteries for 15 dollars a piece. Just pay shipping and handling. Shipping and handling is generally about 300% of the cost of the item being shipped. So that's gonna be about 60 bucks. I guess I can throw away the duck taped trimmer now. I cooked fish the other day. It had been in the freezer for about 13 months. This was huge pieces of fish. I had to cut them before I could deep fry them. Yes, they were delish! They were a little hard to cut, so I turned them over and they appeared to be covered with silver duck tape! Then I realized that was the skin. I'm thinking of developing a new product. An adhesive roll called "Fish Tape"! Anyway,it was either Mackerel or Amberjack. Holy Mackerel! Had to see where the term Holy Mackerel comes from. I remember it from the TV days of Amos and Andy. Kingfish used to say it a lot. This may be where it started. It was a take off on holy cow which was considered sacrilegious. For this I am sorry. I particularly don't like what they say today. It's disgusting. The other place this was overdone, was the Batman Tv series. It could be Holy fish sticks or holy fruit of the loom or anything.
In case your still wondering, the second thing I didn't like, was instead of a nice iceberg lettuce salad, they had this leafy stuff. And no real dressing, just this homemade stuff, which did not include Thousand Island. if I had a cooking school, the first thing I would teach my pupils is that clientele who prefer thousand island salad dressing have sensitive taste buds and usually can not tolerate other dressings. If necessary, go to any grocery store or 7/11 and buy a bottle.

Oh well, I'm not working tomorrow, but I still have to get up. So good night sweet friends! Hope the owl doesn't disturb your sleep and may you never run out of thousand islands!
(isn't that why they call it "1000" islands?

Docktor Redknec - Words To The Wise-Or Notso

Docktor Redknec is syndicated in 3 newspapers across the continent. ( literally 3 newspapers, one to his mother, Birth-a Redknec and her sister, Aunt Bright and his psychiatrist, Dr. Y. Usso Strange. Docktor Redknec graduated with honors (that was his roommate, Malcomb Honors} at Yell University. His docktoral thesis was based on the theory that if you say something loud enough and often enough, it will be accepted as truth.

Eliminate Elimination
Man has been living in a backward state for centuries and I'm not speaking only of Alabama. Our drugstore shelves and medicine cabinets are fully stocked with an array of remedies and potions, designed to soothe the gastric system and to relieve pain due to constipation, diarrhea and general irregularity. Quite frankly, we are working on the wrong end. The primary cause of the ailments we suffer is not the inefficiency of our inner workings, but the things we stuff down our throats! The theory of immaculate digestion is not supported by scripture or medical journals, Food and Drug Administration or Al Gore, but we're going with it anyway. The theory is this, that before the fall of man, we were living in a perfect world where all foods were clean and acceptable, except for the fruit of this one tree. It would seem plausible, that in this perfect world where all substances are pure and approved for consumption, that human waste, or for that matter, animal waste would be non-existent. After the fall the food had to be coaxed out of the soil thru much sweat and toil and the food was no longer a perfect match for our digestive systems.We also began eating animals. Thus, had a new one not been cut for us, we would have bloated up and exploded from the consumption of foods containing impurities and poisons which our bodies could not throw off. This theory has tentatively been embraced by the National Health-Scare Plan, which states that unnecessary and self inflicted conditions will be looked down upon and generally ignored.

It would now behoove us to eat foods which our bodies can efficiently handle. Our kidneys, livers, appendixes, intestines, colons, and stomachs are over-burdened from the stress of processing and eliminating the excesses we force on them. Why do you think human waste is so distasteful as to use it's slang as curse words. It is quite literally part of the curse! We need to start consuming herbs, vitamins, proteins, fruit juices, vegetable juices. Our foods must be predigested. The job of your stomach is to break down food to the point that it can be absorbed by the body to be used as nourishment and to hold up our pants. The only reason your stomach is necessary is that you stuff food down there that is not fit for consumption. The stomach must then produce gastric juices that would make coca-cola seem like a saline solution. Which is, of course where acid reflux comes from. The reason this food must be broken down is because some of it is not real food, but packaging which can not be absorbed by the body. We need to break it down before stuffing it down our throats. Then the digestive tract will shrivel up from lack of activity and you will have to get suspenders.

Talk about stimulating the economy. There are lobbyist that do not want this teaching to get out. Because no one will need toilets, toilet paper and cleaning products, stomach remedies, medical treatment for intestinal problems, colon problems etc. Not to mention the restaurants and grocery stores whose doors would be closed. The insurance companies are dead against it. So, I must be right!

I have withdrawn from my lucrative practice in order to further develop a line of stomach elimination health-scare products, that will help to eradicate the garbage in-garbage-out mentality and propel America to once again become a nation that does not travel on it's belly.

By the way, do we really need teeth??

Docktor Redknec's screwball theories are widely recognized as the ravings of a lunatic wannabe, as he has not yet attained the high level of lunatic. There is a movement (excuse the slang) about, to run him for the vacated Senate seat in Massachusetts. It was previously thought that no one could fill those shoes, but we belive Docktor Rednek can.

MIND DUST

Hello Dear Friends,

I had too much to dream last night. I dreamed about mind-dust. The dream was too weird to repeat, but I thought the phrase was cool. I made a mental note, which is getting harder and harder to do. I made a mental note to remember mind-dust, because I wondered if it existed. Well, there is such a concept as mind-dust. There were songs about it, but I disregarded them because they might not be clean. Imagine dust not being clean! I went for the definition, which turned out to be evolutionist psycho-babble. Something about the mind being made up of atoms which are linked to other atoms with logic ability that somehow compounds itself and eventually equals the human thought process. Now I apologize to those who actually believe this stuff and realize that I totally mangled the definition. But it made so little sense that mangle is all I could do. I somehow imagined that mind-dust was a powder you could suspend in a liquid and perhaps ingest the same to make your mind become more alert. Who knows, in the right hands it could lead to a cure for Alzheimer's! That was a pretty good nights work!

I have a theory that my brain is not me. Or dig this, I have a brain and a sub-brain. The brain is me and the sub-brain is my reference library. My sub-brain is brilliant! Yours is too! But it's like living next door to the library and only checking out Dr. Seuss. There is a wealth of info in there, but it is seldom used. Occasionally I get a glimpse of what's in there thru my dreams. that's how I know it's there.

I was out with my cousins at the Varsity the other night. Chili dogs can mess your mind, not to mention your stomach. We were discussing the merits of combining vacuum cleaner technology with table saw technology and applying it to lawn mowers. You know about the vacuum cleaners that memorize your floor plan and furniture placement and vacuum your floor unattended? You could do this with computer controlled lawn mowers! You could sit at the computer with a joy stick if you just have to be involved, but no need to. Just hit the record button, walk thru the yard with the lawn mower and next time it knows the route. Unsafe you say! What about obstacles you say! Next time I'll get the meat loaf you say? Here's where table saw technology comes in. My cousin tells me that they have table saws now that would not cut a weenie. That's a little sad, because that's what I use mine for. I keep it in the kitchen to cut meats with. If you hold poor Oscar Mayer up to the blade it will barely scratch his skin, immediately cease spinning and pop down beneath the table in a nano-second, which is usually what I do. The same thing could be true for the lawn mower blade.Only when it gets 3 inches from an unknown object, it locks down. Okay, let's say this has been on the market for 5 years. The next innovation? Lawn Mower Surfing! Here's some of the necessary features: 4 wheel drive, 4 wheel fully independent suspension, 4 wheel steering, 4 wheels, hydraulics, sound system with ipod port and a surf board platform long enough so you can hang ten. Yeah, the lawn will be manicured twice a week and I'll cut the neighbors grass too! I'll organize lawn surfing competitions! It will become a 2016 Summer Olympic Event. Remember you saw it here first!! Next project, Hovercraft Hedge Trimmer. There will be a whole line of Hovercraftsman tools! The Hovercraftsman tree trimmer. You don't have to go up there! Oh, my wife just said we need a Hovercraftsman Buttkicker to get full value out of all those manual tools I already have.

Better get to it! Whoever said "Make hay while the sun shines", must not have lived in the south. Better make hay before it gets to be 95 degrees outside!

better get out there. See ya!

Growing Up Rich In Forest Park

How shall I write about the town I grew up in and my childhood? Shall I dramatize, shall I glamorize or supersize? I think I'll just be plain and simple, because those are the only two ways I know how to write. I'm not a historian, well it would take the whole internet to tell of the things I'm not. You'll figure that out anyway. I grew up starting at zero up until almost nine years old on Capital Ave in Atlanta, just a stone's throw from Turner Field. I know this because in the early sixties a lot of stones were thrown down there. Let's say we moved out from there in August of 1962, because we did! We moved from that confined, protective environment to the freedom and safety of Forest Park Georgia. You see, in my old neighborhood, I had to stay in my own yard and at night we locked down and laid low. We moved to a brand new neighborhood, Ridgewood Subdivision. I'd never before heard of a subdivision and now I was living in one. We moved from a big 2-story asbestos siding house to a 1000 square foot brick ranch, number 5036 out of 9007 such houses built in the 50's and 60's in Forest Park. There were no rich houses and poor houses in Forest Park, just 1000 square foot brick ranches. They started building these houses at the end of World WarII for all of the soldiers coming home and implementing the baby boom. The playing field was totally level. Of course if your dad worked for the Ford or Chevrolet plant or Delta or Eastern (the airlines part is assumed) then you had a slightly favorable status, but still lived in the 1000 square foot brick house. The houses on our street came in only two plans, carport on the left, or mirror image carport on the right. Everyone was new in our neighborhood so we went around excitedly inquiring whether each new family had any kids, especially boys. One new family had five kids, four of them boys. Yes! They were the basis of all sports in our neighborhood. All of the boys played in the street. For baseball, the water meters were first and third base and the manhole cover in the middle of the street was second base. We used a piece of granite to draw home plate. For football, the curbs were the side boundary and the telephone poles were the two goals. Basketball was played in the back yards. We played spud in the street, with a basketball. Everyone formed a circle in the middle of the street and someone bounced the basketball as hard as he could and called out someone's name and everyone else ran while that person got the ball and hollered freeze. Then everyone had to stop. He would then roll or throw the ball at someone. If it hit them or they caught it they had to holler freeze etc. If they missed, they were awarded a spud. Three spuds and you had to lean over and put your hands against the telephone poll, while everyone else stood behind a line and threw the basketball at your business end as hard as they could. We all went to J E Edmunds Elementary School on Simpson Rd. You could get there by cutting across someones yard to the dirt road, Elam Church Rd or you could walk up to Watts Rd and catch the nearly new, Chevrolet bus, number 56. Elam Church Rd was called that because around the corner on Watts Rd there was an old one room church, Elam Church. It was full of leaves, newspapers and liquor bottles and had a pot belly stove. We had great plans to camp out in there, but like many others, were never carried out. That would have been great!. Needless to say they had not held forth that church in a while. There was also Elam Cemetery on Elam Church Rd. Rarely someone new would be buried there, but many graves were simply marked with a big rock or stone at each end. Some had a slab of concrete for the sides and top and stood about 18 inches tall. There would be small trees growing out of them, so we tried to peek in. You could always go there at night and toss rocks into the air to make the bats dive. You could do the same under the street lights, but the graveyard was more cool. On Saturdays, you could ride your bike to Clayton Plaza and later to Grant City South. I always checked out the model cars at Jacob's Drug Store, Woolworths and Grants. I'd go in Buddy's Sporting goods and look at the baseball equipment and then Western Auto to see the radios and electric guitars. Once in a blue moon I'd go on a bike trip and ride until I got lost and then find my way back. We also liked to visit the creek that ran thru the Army Depot. We picked it up behind the property which was also behind a newer subdivision. The creek had these huge slippery rocks to walk over (part of Stone Mountain) and it had suds in it that gave it a chemical or detergent smell. We thought the new houses were letting their washing machines drain into the creek. I read many years later, that the Army Depot had been cited for dumping chemicals into that creek. I lost my hair because of it. It also kept me from making good grades in school or meeting girls. It's my all purpose excuse for everything that went wrong. Once we saw the hood of a 1954 Ford lodged into the creekbed. I convinced my buddy that the whole car was under there. Who knows, he might have been right.
We also liked to make secret formulas using bleach, gasoline, gourd innards and anything from the garden, basement or utility room we could find. It's a wonder we didn't kill ourselves or blow up something. We built several huts during our childhoods. One was an underground hut. We built (dug) it the backyard that adjoined the cemetery. It looked like another grave being dug. His mother made us undig it. The last one we built was just to sleep in. It was low to the ground, made of small tree limbs and had a fireplace in one end in case it got cold. Of, course the fireplace was also made of tree limbs, which ended up being combustible, as was the rest of the hut. That night we went for a walk around the neighborhood, just getting into general mischief. I won't say doing what because some of those people may still be living. We ended up walking about a mile away up to Forest Park Junior High where I had obtained a position as student. After I explained all of the responsibilities and hazards associated with being a grown-up, we walked over to Main St to purchase cokes from the machine at the Gulf Station. We walked around with these in total innocence, even though it was after midnight, until we saw a police car. My young friend suggested running, but I being in possession of a cool head, realized that would look suspicious and being that we had done nothing wrong in the last 43 minutes thought it best to walk on by as though nothing was wrong, which is what I actually believed. They picked us up and began to interrogate us. They said had we run, they would have been obligated to shoot, since we were near adult sized, especially me. It seems we had committed a string of crimes we were not aware of, including buying cokes from the machine and not leaving a deposit for the bottles (even though the station was closed). and being alive and walking around after curfew. Now I knew what curfew was but did not realize my quiet little town had one. They took us on down to the station and were about to issue our striped uniforms when they realized my friends dad was none other than a volunteer cop. So they called him at 1:30 a.m. and he came to get us. I would not get in trouble again for many months, but many months passed and I did again get in trouble while operating in the capacity of a Junior High Student. It seems I bought a fire cracker from an associate. It turns out the officials found out and rounded up the whole fire cracker gang. We seemed to be just inches away from juvenile detention. I was sent for by personal messenger, rather than the intercom, I suppose to keep the rumors down and retain the element of surprise. I sold the hot item to an underling in order to be rid of it. I was required to go find my associate. He had discovered to my honest surprise, that the firecracker was devoid of gunpowder, a dud. Nevertheless there was plenty of fire-power in the assistant principal's paddle and my britches stayed warm all winter.
I rode my bike thru rain, sleet and snow to as many football games as I could at the old Kiwanis field. That would be my junk bike that I bought for $3 and fixed up. I had a nice chrome 3 speed spider bike with the flaming bananna seat. Something I would continue to do all through high school, except it was to Tara Stadium in my Blue Wonder! . I begged my parents to buy me a school jacket. It was too cool. Wine with gold leather sleeves and my name embroidered on it. This was not the cartoon looking Panther on the back. This was the cool one! I promised my folks I would not grow too much and would wear it the next 4 1/2 years thru high school and I did it proudly!
High School was cool! Not the classes and the schoolwork or most of the teachers. But going to a school with a great band, super basketball team and best of all the legitimate football teams in the state. Valdosta didn't count because they had plowhorses in uniform on their team.
I worked at several places and finally settled at Grants, working the snack bar with some of my best friends. It was fun because lots of kids worked there and lots of people came in. the snack bar was in front so we saw everyone. There was the motorcycle dude who visited often. He was too cool. The professional student with the handlebar mustache who smoked his pipe, read the paper and made a 10 cent cup of coffee last all day. Then there were the army guys. It was the last stop before Vietnam. They were always in there looking for girls and eating donuts. We had to announce the donut sales over the public address system. Jimmy and I would do impersonations of Jimmy Stewart, John Wayne and Ed Sullivan or whoever we could, when we were sure the store manager was gone for they day. It went like this: (Ed Sullivan) Good evening Grant Schoppers! We have a really big shew for you tonite! We're featuring etc. We may have been inspired by our principal Mr. Kirkland who made the same announcement at the end of everyday for about 6 years that I know of. It goes, "Teachers, please have your students lower and adjust the blinds before leaving today". Once we had a walkout at school to protest the fact that the teachers had a lounge to smoke in, but the students weren't allowed. But the day everyone looked forward to most, was Senior Day. We looked forward to that for years. When the day came I had not shaved for a week, for which the college professionals at Grants gave me grief about. I dressed head to toe in black including a black cowboy hat and a homemade holster that strapped to my leg. I got quite a few stares and whispers of awe. I walked around saying things like "Make my day" or "Feelin' lucky punk? Well do ya?" I got lots of strange looks because the Dirty Harry movies weren't out yet. They would steal real estate signs and put them all over the front lawn as if to sell the school. Of course this one guy brings a hearse and casket. That's hard to top. My first car was my dad's 1963 4 door Chevy II. I had it painted Grotto Blue. I put 14 inch slotted disc's on the back and 13's on the front and installed a cassette player. not the standard mini-8 track. Not the same league as the GTO's, Mustangs, Corvette, Cyclones, Super Bee, Roadrunners. Oh well,it was one of a kind.
Well, I eventually graduated (class of '71) from that place and married a Forest Park Girl (class of '74) and stayed in Forest Park and Morrow for the next 30 years! I will always have fond memories of those times because Forest Park was my "Camelot"