The Sunday Archive of Retort - 7/16/12

Saved by the Bell

About once every month or so, a couple of Church Ladies ring my doorbell to say hello, hand me a couple of their latest publications, and attempt to save my misbegotten soul.

Oh, and they come to laugh, because saving souls can be a bit of a downer most of the time.

 

 

 

From: 7/16/2012

Saved by the Bell

 

 

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Perfect Imperfection

It’s difficult being a perfectionist.

So I usually don’t even try.

I leave that to the more neurotic among you, out there…although I have to believe if you’re reading this…well, need I say more.

Probably not, but then all the perfectionists will start complaining that I didn’t tap out an appropriate amount of words to suit your perfect needs.

So I’ll keep on writing...although, as I said….

Driving you crazy, huh?

Sorry….

The truth is—and again we all know, truth is relative, and hardly perfect, much like my favorite relative, Uncle Clarence, who still insists, to this day, he thought those were really shoes—that the thing I’m most perfect at, is being imperfect.

Probably most of us are.

Even the perfectionists…in fact, most certainly the perfectionists.

That’s why they try so hard.

If you’d like an imperfect fried egg…I’m your guy.

No problem.

Broken yolks, burnt whites…to perfection.

Want your steak cooked perfectly rare…you got it…a long as you don’t mind medium.

My perfect paint job in the living room is kind of neat, as long as you don’t mind those splotches on the woodwork…and the little white dots on the carpet…and yeah…that was a brand new pair of jeans.

Want that nasty red wine stain out of your favorite white shirt…not a big deal.  I can get it mostly out and the rest of it will just fade, over time, and besides you’ll probably get used to it soon, anyway

Of course, as you’d expect, the perfectionists will have a hard time dealing with this sort of behavior.

But there are ways of dealing with that…I mean other than sedation.

Take your favorite perfectionist to any fast food joint of his choosing, which they won’t—

Choose that is—because perfectionists wouldn’t be caught dead eating fast food.

Have them order anything they want, which they won’t, also because of the above.

Then order them double of anything you want to get but make sure you give them the bill.

I know, this plan makes no sense at all, and on the surface appears imperfect, both in thought and execution. Sure, the perfectionist is still going to sit there feeling miserable, and dissatisfied…but in the end, you’ll end up with a free meal, of your choosing; and since you ordered for both of you, and they won’t touch any of it, essentially you can have all you can eat.

Sounds pretty perfect to me….

In a perfect imperfection kind of way.

But maybe that’s just me,

Obviously….

 

 

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Zombie Summer Solstice Resurrected

 

 

 

A couple of weeks back I told you one of the Zombies Across the Street had shuffled over to our front yard and handed us an invitation to their first Summer Solstice party.

I mentioned it at the time because it was unusual, mostly because in the past the Zombies had a tendency to avoid such things or anything, for that matter, that had to do with summer.

You know, for obvious reasons, most of which are not all that pleasant to discuss…especially on a family website.

Anyway, the thing is…despite my initial skepticism, the Zombies actually did have a pretty big blow out of a Summer Solstice party this past Saturday night.

Way better than any of my own solstice parties, which is actually saying a lot…I think.

They even came to an understanding with the Druids, at least for the night, and the Druids, in turn, were able to secure the Morris Dancers, plus a cousin who had some association with a Cloaked Mystic they once visited, or knew of a Cloaked Mystic, or someone knew someone who once owned a cloak, or heard about someone who actually saw a cloak or something they thought might be a cloak.

So they had all their solstice bases covered….sort of.

And there was actually quite a turnout, which I contributed to curiosity, at least for some.

Even the Vampires up the street were there, once the sun set, of course.

I was even thinking about doing some live on-site Tweeting and Facebook updates, but as Z pointed out, the Zombies don’t like to draw too much attention to themselves, at least no more than the usual ruckus they attract when they go into town for a smoothie or something.

That excellent DJ from the Christmas party was back so, as you'd expect, there was plenty of ghoul on ghoul action on the dance floor, at any given time, which is always fun to watch.   

 

Of course, they weren’t necessarily all in one piece, on the dance floor, at any given time, but that’s pretty par for the course at Zombie parties.

 

The food was good—actually better than good—as long as you knew what you were looking for and sorted out the extraneous—let’s just call them “parts”—that are bound to get mixed in with the bean dip and such.

They even had a mystical solstice labyrinth set up that wound all the way down the block and across the outer boundary of the werewolves’ property.  Of course, this created a bit of an awkward situation since the werewolves weren’t invited to the party, which, at least to me, seemed rude, especially since the full moon had already come and gone, last week.

But who am I to judge? I don’t even pretend to understand these petty animosities between the undead. I mean life, is—or was—short…so why not just un-live let un-live.

Am I right?

Speaking of animosity, as I said before, the biggest surprise of the night was to see actual Druids mingling with the Zombies…not something you’d expect to see every day.



Human Degradation Ceremony

Of course their difference of opinion on what did or did not serve as a suitable human degradation ceremony was to be expected.  When it comes to human degradation, Druids have very specific thoughts in mind, more so than even the Zombies, which might surprise some of you.

I even think some of the Zombies were actually appalled by many of the ideas being tossed around by the Druids, along with some of the Zombie appendages that were lying around the yard, which is pretty standard wherever  a large group of Zombies gather.

However, by the time the Morris Dancers jumped into the center of things, everyone was so transfixed on the spectacle created by all their dancing and kicking that both parties finally agreed on a degradation scenario that everyone could live with…or, you know…whatever they call it.

All in all, it was a fun time…and who expected that?

Not me.

The weather even worked out…cool and dry, which for a Zombie party is critical. The unpleasant odors were kept to a minimum and were really no worse than what you would find at your typical college frat party.

And I know Z and I weren’t the only one who had a good time, because long after we said our goodnights we could hear music and howling going on late into the night, which was nice, because apparently at some point, probably after the 4^th keg of summer brew was tapped, the werewolves were invited over.

And it’s always good see ghouls burying their differences for a change…instead of one another.

I wonder if they’re planning anything for the 4^th of July?

 

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The Sunday Archive of Retort - 6/25/12

There’s Always Ice Cream

Playing baseball as a kid today, is very different from playing baseball when I was a kid...not today.

When I was 8 we pretty much just showed up at the ball field in a pair of dirty jeans and whatever shirt we woke up in, along with either some hand me down dried out piece of leather, or a glove so new it still mooed and was impossible to bend let alone close. 

There we stood, gathered in a circle to hear some inspirational words from the coach, all the while wondering why his nose was so red. Then, appropriately inspired, we ran out to the field, screaming like banshees, who had a pretty good team themselves, and stood wherever we could find an open spot to stand...

Today...as I said...it's different...

 

From 6/25/12:

There’s Always Ice Cream

 

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Taking it Easy

 

Summer Solstice...the actual start of summer, is tomorrow morning at 6:51 AM ET.


Which means, I'll probably miss the beginning, so feel free to start without me....with or without the Morris Dancers, Daffy Druids and Cloaked Mystics.

I'll catch up...hopefully by the human degradation ceremony, which I never like to miss.
 

I mean it's summer now, and I like to take it easy…especially in the summer.

Well…easier, anyway.

Because let’s face it, I have it pretty easy to begin with…especially with the Geishas I keep in the cellar.

Ha…just kidding. I don’t keep any Geishas in the cellar…they’re in the garage.

Bada Boom…thank you thank you thank you…I’ll be here all week….

But seriously….

I like to take it easy…especially in the summer.

Well…easier, anyway.

I mean who doesn’t?

Well, I guess Z. 

Z never takes it easy…always on the go go go.

I try to tell her re-shingling the roof isn’t necessary, at least not every month.

Every 6 months would be fine…and even that might be excessive.

Of course, this just annoys her and she snaps back, “It’s not like you can just go out and hire people to do it for you!”

And I guess she has a point.

And I suppose somebody has to mow the lawn, do the dishes…and the laundry, make the bed, load the dishwasher and…well it just makes me tired thinking about it all.

Especially in the summer…when I like to take it easy.

Well…easier, anyway.

There’s just something about warm days and soft nights, sitting on your back porch, cold beer and book in hand, the scent of Coppertone wafting on a breeze that just lends itself to easy living….

Despite the annoying racket one must endure because someone insists on power washing the garage on a beautiful afternoon.

But there's always grocery shopping that need to be done—because let’s face it, it’s not going to do itself—a nice off  premises, activity that provides a respite from power washers, sanders and high speed drilling…and since I insist on a very specific brand of marshmallow fluff, it can take hours by the time Z goes from store to store searching for it.

These days, I’m also taking a little more time to stop and smell the roses, if you know what I mean.

And why wouldn’t you know what I mean, because one, if I don’t stop, it’s almost impossible to get a good whiff…and two, what part of smelling the roses would you not understand?

Oh wait…these aren’t even roses. They’re something else altogether, called peonies, which to me look a lot like roses.

Because to me, daffodils look like roses...daisies look like roses, geraniums look like roses....


Get the idea?

Maybe not....

But that’s okay. I’m not in the least bothered. Mostly because I’m taking it easy…or easier…and besides, isn’t a rose by any other name really just one thing or another, anyway.

Or something like that...who knows?

Who cares?

Not me….

Know why?

Because I like to take it easy…especially in the summer.

Well…easier, anyway.

Because let’s face it, I have it pretty easy to begin with…especially with the Geishas I keep in the cellar.

 

 

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Not Always Right

 

 

 

I admit…I’m not always right.

I throw one…every now and then…just to be fair.

If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have any friends at all…not even if you count the three I have on Facebook…sort of.

I mean if everyone knew I was perfect, imagine how that would go.

You’d think I was looking down and judging you all the time.

I don’t want you to think that…I don’t want anybody to think that.

I mean, yeah…sure…I am…but I don’t want you to think that.

So I throw one…every now and then…just to be fair.

I mean, didn’t I say those were nice shoes you had on the other day.

Back in the 60’s I said the Beatles were a one hit wonder, and would never rise to the level of “Up with People”.

In the 70’s I said this Spielberg guy might have a career, but only if he stuck to butter commercials.

In the 80’s I said the Mets would win 7 or 8 World Series before the end of the century.

In the 90’s I was telling people that nobody listened to Oprah…

And I’m not even going to mention Ross Perot….

All along…I knew better.

Even now, I’m telling people, just watch... that Bieber has a plan…he really has his s…tuff together.

 

Social Media is the best thing to happen to modern culture, well…since George Lazenby replaced Sean Connery as James Bond.

Reality TV helps to sharpen your neural pathways.

Just little things like that to make the rest of you think I’m not as smart as I look.

If that were even possible….

But yeah, it is…and I am…

So I pretend I’m not, just to make you all feel a little better about yourselves.

My little gift to the world, as it were.

And you’re welcome…in advance…because, I know, right now you want to thank me.

But it really isn’t necessary…it’s the least I can do.

Besides, being right all the time isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

I mean, imagine if you were even half as right about things as I am.

Hard to picture, I know…but really, try thinking about having to hold your tongue…everyday…when your neighbor annoyingly feels it’s necessary to say “Hello”…all the time.

All the time…really? 

Can’t we just ignore each other…once and awhile?

Because holding your tongue…all the time…is unsanitary, not to mention gross…at least to others.

Right?

Or knowing that your friends with the beach house should really invite far fewer people down for the weekend, especially on those weekends that you’re invited, because you know they’d have a much better time with just you.

Just common sense, but try swallowing that.

Pretty hard, huh?

Or that you’re cousin’s daughter’s wedding would have been much livelier had they gone with the Mariachi band you recommended instead of that 7 piece Rock ensemble.

And you won’t even get into the cake that they foolishly bought at that other bakery instead of the one you told them was the best.

And that’s just being right half the time.

Difficult, isn’t it?

So if you could, which I know is impossible, try being right all the time….like me

Not good.

Because nobody likes a smart ass…nobody.

Believe me…I’m right.  

 

 

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The Sunday Archive of Retort - 6/18/12

Beach Fundamentals

First beach days have a bit of a learning curve thing attached to them.

You wouldn’t think it was a big deal, but it’s been about 8 months, so things have to be re-learned.

Like remembering to put on your bathing suit....

 

 

From 6/18/12:

Beach Fundamentals

 

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Get Used to It

 

 

 A lot of people worry when Friday the 13th rolls around.

But I say, so what...a lot.

And if that annoys people...so what....

Sometimes life demands we make adjustments.

So get used to it.

We just can’t control all the things we’d like to.

Like Cheerios…we can’t control Cheerios.

They are what they are….

But do we really need so many different kinds?

I mean they’re Cheerios, little round bits of oats in a bowl.

But we don’t have a say in how they make them.

So adjust…get used to it.

Like people in cars, on the road…driving.

We can’t control what they do…they just do what they want.

Like drive in front of us…or behind.

Annoying…right?

I know.

We’d prefer they stayed home and left the roads to us...all to ourselves, which would cut down on the amount of traffic immensely.

But they don’t.

That’s just the way it is.

So we make an adjustment…and blow our horns a lot.

Which then causes some of the other driver’s to make adjustments of their own.

Like waving peculiar gestures in our directions.

Or walking up to our cars and banging on our hoods

And then we have to make a whole new adjustment for that.

Then there are the local law enforcement agencies that seem to have a problem with horn blowing.

They tend to be not as understanding as you would like them to be.

So you have to make an adjustment for that.

Maybe not point your finger in their faces as much, as you would normally.

Or at least keep it out of their mouths.

They especially don’t like that.

So you have to make an adjustment there.

Get used to it.

And the local lock ups don’t offer coffee anymore either.

Something about liability insurance or something.

So get used to that too.

And the judges are not as accommodating as they used to be…plus they don’t like their images posted on Facebook…even if you do tag them.

Another adjustment.

And the content on the web has gone way downhill, mostly since anyone with a computer and a friend who can read, is capable of starting their own website to post any kind of crap they want.

I know….

Right?

So be careful what you click on.

You never know what you’re gonna get.

And if you end up someplace, weird, and you don’t know why or how….

Just make an adjustment.

And get used to it…

What else can you do?

We just can’t control all the things we’d like to.

Like Rice Krispies…we can’t control Rice Krispies…..

 

 

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Positively Negative: Home Improvements

 

 

 

 

 

I’m feeling a little negative today.

Positively negative, actually.

Yeah…I know.

Hard to believe…right?

Unusual for me to feel negative.

I’m known for my upbeat personality.

The ability to always see the silver linings…whatever the hell that means….

Oops…sorry.

See what I’m saying?

I guess because it’s raining while I’m writing this.

A perfectly good, almost summer day, wasted on the rain.

I mean, sure, I know we need rain…“Into every life a little rain must fall…” or some sort of crap like that.

But does it need to be so wet????

Plus it tends to chase away the sun…who apparently doesn’t like the rain either.

You know?

Again…sorry.

Positively…Negative…

I guess it could be because I’m having some work done around my house…outside work…which the rain kind of puts a damper on.

Like in “can’t do the work”, kind of damper.

I’m having my deck tuned up.

Yeah…it’s been out of tune for a while, so it was time.

Power wash, strip and clean…which are basically all the same thing, but to different degrees…at least according to the guy I hired to do the work.

What…you thought I was going to do the work? 

Not me…too negative.

I’d probably just get frustrated after 5 minutes—okay, maybe 2—throw the whole thing out and have a new one built...if I could afford it, which I can’t.

So I had to hire a guy who I can’t understand.

Not that he’s not speaking English…he is…perfectly fine English, actually…except I can’t understand him.  Actually I find I can’t understand most people I hire.

In fact, I think they do it on purpose.

So that’s a bit of a negative.

But I nod a lot…

I say yes to almost everything.

And then I just hope for the best.

I mean it’s a deck…how many options can there be for a deck?

And the pink stairs are growing on me.

So are the green railings.

But, like I said, everything’s on hold until the rain stops.

Which it probably won’t, for days…if it ever does.

I’m pretty positive that will be the case…you know, because of the negative thing.

After the deck, we’re changing the wallpaper in the bathroom…I think.

I mean, that’s what we want to do…but you never know.

But, like I said, I’m hoping for the best.

Which is a long shot, I know.

Sorry…negative…again.

Sometimes when I’m feeling negative, like this, I try to seek out people that are more positive than me to get a fresh perspective.

But that can be tricky…mostly because I’m pretty sure they don’t take my calls when they see it’s me.

But I guess that’s their loss.

Because they usually have no idea how bad things are, unless I tell them.

So if they don’t talk to me, they’ll never know….

Not like you….

Which is far from negative….

Right?

Positively….

Hold on…it’s my guy asking me something….

“Yeah…uh huh…uh huh…whatever you think is best.  Yeah…that works for me…go for it!”

Sorry…I’m not sure what that’s about.  I think something to do with Pentagrams….

Not sure….

But I’m hoping for the best.

Trying to be more positive….

I mean pentagrams are cool right?

Unless he said Instagram…in which case I better check my account.

I don’t want that picture of me laying out on the deck going virile or something.

Not like that last time.

Oh wait…looks like he’s putting in a hot tub.

I don’t know…at least it looks like a hot tub.

Well, I guess you have to fill that hole he cut in the middle with something.

Besides, hot tubs are cool….or hot…or whatever.

And I’m sure that rash I got the last time I was in my neighbor’s was just a coincidence.

 

Or did I have the rash before...?

 

Not sure...

Hold on…”I don’t know...whatever you think….”

Gotta go.  Now I think I’m getting a waters slide or something.

I really, really hate home improvements….

Yeah...I know…right back where I started.

Positively negative.

 

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