TIGHT AS DICK'S HAT BAND
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Posted:Jan 29, 2007 8:05 am
Last Updated:Apr 15, 2008 6:33 am
3964 Views
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I grew up in a ruralish area of sorts. Actually it was a small town, but the country was close. So close in fact, many of the adults I encountered growing up had a unique way with words. I grew up hearing descriptive phrases I have not heard anywhere since. They sound a bit odd at first, but when you stop and think about them they make sense. About as much sense as tits on a boar hog 
The hogs were busy it seems. When you asked my neighbor it he knew where his was. He would respond as often as not…"He went to take a shit and the hogs ate him.” A reference to falling in the pig pen while walking to the outhouse. The multi-talented hogs as could be used to show happiness. “Happy as 8 piglets on a ten titted sow”  . That my friends is happy!
Where these sayings excelled was describing how something fit, how something work, or how something looked.
“That boy is so skinny his head looks like a tomato on a fence post” Odd, but descriptive.
To describe something that was ill fitting… The phases “loose as boots on a rooster” could often be heard when something was greatly oversized. If only slightly too large then “loose as a can on a fence post” would be the description. Both of those are easy to picture and provide a concept of how bad something fit.
The opposite of loose is tight. The oddest phrase of them all “tight as Dick’s hat band” was used. It did not paint a mental picture for me instead it left me with more questions. Who is Dick? How big is his head? How small is his hat? Do they mean that dick? Who wears a hat there?
"Rough as a cob", is another phrase frequently used by my neighbor. The worse part of that one is the knowledge that the old farmers used corn cobs in the outhouse when the Sears catalog was gone.
My first boss had a way with these phrases that was unique even for our town. He described a woman’s tight pants by saying; “her ass looked like 4 chipmunks playing in a paper sack”. As far as I am concerned his masterpiece was “you boys look like two monkeys trying to fuck a football” He was referring to 2 members of the crew who were struggling to load a portable water pump into a pick up truck.
Until Next Time
I am as always as happy as 8 piglets….
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busted compass
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Posted:Jan 23, 2007 8:34 am
Last Updated:Apr 15, 2008 6:33 am
3783 Views
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busted compass
spinning needle
pointing everywhere
pointing nowhere
confusing directions
wandering aimlessly
traveling nowhere
craving direction
wanting clarity
needing guidance
spinning needle
pointing everywhere
pointing nowhere
wondering why
thinking how
lacking answers
losing will
fading hope
waning desire
spinning needle
pointing everywhere
pointing nowhere
grasping determination
plodding on
making progress
pushing through
finding home
having peace
I think I need a nap
I am as always
ready for a catnap
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IT IS CROWDED IN HERE
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Posted:Jan 20, 2007 8:05 pm
Last Updated:Jan 25, 2007 6:15 am
3729 Views
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Warning: This post may cause a song to stick in your head. I take no responsibility for that or for anything for that matter. 
I think my brain must be full. The only evidence of this I have is the apparent shortage of short term memory. I am constantly forgetting where I put my…my….gosh you name it Cell phone, wallet, car keys and my shoes. If I don’t make an effort to put things in the same place all the time; it is if they vanished. What did I have for lunch yesterday? Yesterday let me see what day was that….Wednesday…baked potato soup and half a turkey sandwich.
What is occupying the space in my brain? Actually it is not a what; it is a who: George of the Jungle, The Banana Splits, H.R. Pufnstuf, the residents of Lidsville, and Underdog to name a few.
No not just the names of long defunct cartoons, but the words to their theme songs, names of characters and story lines. Now that is not nice….. I do so have a life .
I have a gift of almost complete cartoon recall. Not one that I would have chosen for myself, but you take what you get. Old cartoon theme songs have a way of making me smile. That does come in handy from time to time.
Until Next Time
I am as always watching out for that tree 
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MJ LITE
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Posted:Jan 18, 2007 10:26 am
Last Updated:Apr 15, 2008 6:34 am
3779 Views
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I did want you all to think I was this brooding dark soul. I wrote these after I saw the light.
ordinary life
no such thing exists
each day
each breath
is extraordinary
not for all
only those with
open eyes
open heart
open minds
open to see the wonders
all around you
all the time
then you know
why i say
ordinary life exists only
in darkness of your
own making
the darkness of closed eyes
the cold darkness of
a closed heart
the black empty darkness
that is a closed mind
expose ordinary to light
extraordinary appears
everyday magic
everywhere you turn
so why settle for
an ordinary life
sunshine on my soul
PEACE
LOVE
HAPPINESS
gifts
given
willingly
without
judgment
from
your
heart
to
my
soul
the
sun
has
risen
to
shine
on
my
soul
YOU
are
the
sunshine
on
my
soul
Until Next Time
I am as always
keeping my mind, heart and eyes open
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A SLICE OF THE DARKSIDE
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Posted:Jan 16, 2007 8:55 am
Last Updated:Jan 20, 2007 6:59 am
3735 Views
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These are two of my dark poems, but I am better now
SCARS AND OPEN DOORS
opened my doors to you
laid bare my soul
trusted you with my heart
thought you and me
were us
unsure is unkind
silence is cruel
open doors closing tight
chained, barred, sealed
soul under cover yet again
not all scars are visible
some are carried inside
sad reminders of
open doors and bared souls
the cost of living is high
the ride is worth the cost of the fare
CLAIM
Under my skin
Gnawing
Same old feeling
Why
Only you know
Stop
Continue to squeeze
Ignore
The anger within
Crave
Peace above all
Claim
My soul again
Until Next Time
I am always thinking
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A BORROWED THOUGHT
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Posted:Jan 15, 2007 6:38 am
Last Updated:Jan 16, 2007 8:57 am
3508 Views
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I have a bit of a brain fog (pardon the Joe Vs The Volcano reference) going on right now. So this is shorter and lacks the attempts at humor of my usual posts.
I heard this line in a Keller Williams song this morning. It gave me pause for thought very early on a Monday morning.
"Live is like an ice cream cone. Learn to lick it or end up a sticky sweet mess where you stand"
"Life" by Keller Williams
Until Next Time
I am as always practicing licking
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DR TAWNI , A TURKEY BASTER AND ME
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Posted:Jan 11, 2007 8:59 am
Last Updated:Jan 15, 2007 4:50 pm
3443 Views
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My adventures with Bleach Girl yesterday reminded me of my other experience with Poison Control.
This happened about 10 years ago. At that time I had a Labrador Retriever. I am not sure if all Labs are this way, but Mama was a cross between a garbage disposal and a wood chipper. She would and did eat anything that was remotely food like. Once she ate an entire large pizza box and all. I had left it on the counter and ran across the street to get my . I was gone less than 10 minutes. She also loved beer. I had an unopened case of beer on the laundry room floor. She tore in to the case and bit into and drained several cans. Her favorite trick was to break into the cat box and devourer its contents. Nothing seemed to make her sick.
I gave her Brewers yeast with garlic daily for her skin. Fleas hate the smell. We were going on vacation the next day; she was headed to the kennel. I had purchased a new bottle of 500 tablets so I could send them with her. We ran out for dinner returning after 10pm to find the empty brewers yeast bottle waiting for us in the living room.
I had visions of Mama blowing up like Violet Beauregarde in Willie Wonka. (I have corrected a fact in this blog. I had erroneously identified Veruca Salt as blowing up in the movie. In actually it was Violet Beauregarde. This error was pointed out to me by the lovely MS Purpletrashcan.) Our Oompa Loompas had already left for vacation so I had to deal with this. I called the 24 hour emergency veterinarian clinic. They were unsure what to do as this was not a typical emergency. What other kind would my have? The vet told me to call the National Animal Poison Control Center. He warned me their services were not free. The number I was given started with 1-900. (Yes, a 1-900 number) I had this mental image of the conversation already.
“Thanks for calling I am Doctor Tawni! I am naked. What is your emergency? What are you and your pet wearing? Keep your pet calm. I am petting my pussy now…..” No, I have never called a 1900 number. I just have a vivid imagination
I dialed the number; a recorded woman’s voice welcomed me to the National Animal Poison Control Center. The fee to be connected was $24.95 that was for the first three minutes. Then there was a per minute charge. This was a 900 number after all. I stayed on the line of course a woman answered. I explained my emergency. She said I need to look this up. Tawni returned to tell me to mix one pint of hydrogen peroxide with one pint water. Give the half wait two hours if she did not vomit give her the other half. The will need to be watched for the next 8 hours as well. The best part was Dr Tawni said I need to use a turkey baster and force the mixture down Mama’s throat to ensure she got the full dose. I hung up the phone with a feeling of relief. The kind of relief only a call to 1 900 Hot Vets can provide. Woo hooo fun night for me!!!
Giving a 100 pound a pint of liquid with a turkey baster is not easy. I managed though. Then I waited, and waited, and waited nothing happened. I had to stay with Mama and she had to be outside for obvious reasons. Two hours crept by
I had so much fun with the first dose I gave her the second. I waited, and waited, and waited and waited. That did not get sick at all. She did not burp. She did not fart. Mama was perfectly fine. She apparently had a digestive tract that would do a garbage truck proud. As for me I was wiped out from staying up all night waiting for something to happen.
The night was not a total loss. I called my first 900 number, talked to Dr Tawni and I get to shop for a new baster. How much fun can one man have?
Until Next Time
I am as always ready to stay up all night with a sick friend
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MY ADVENTURE WITH BLEACH GIRL AND THE PRINCESS OF POISONS
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Posted:Jan 10, 2007 9:03 am
Last Updated:Jan 18, 2007 5:58 pm
3742 Views
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Yesterday started as a normal day in the office, well normal for this place. Actually things were slow, so I decided to clean and sanitize the water cooler. (no good deed goes unpunished) I added an ounce or so of bleach to the tank filled the rest with water. I placed an out of order sign on the front and turned it facing the wall. I then went around and told everyone in the office I was cleaning the cooler. Thinking I have all my bases covered.
In a few hours I drained the bleach solution into an empty water jug. I refilled the tank with fresh water which I was going to drain again before returning the cooler to service. I placed the water jug with the bleach solution on top of the cooler covered it with a large wipe.
A few minutes later I was sitting at my desk reading a blog. Please like the rest of you don’t read blogs at work.
Our receptionist ran back and said, “I just drank bleach…bleach water” She holds up a small bathroom size Dixie cup.
I replied “oh shit, where did you get that?”
“From the jug on top of the cooler” This was one of the big 5 gallon water jugs with a gallon or so bleach water in it. She picked up the big bottle poured herself a shot from and gulped it down. Blissfully ignoring the bleach aroma surrounding the jug.
I called poison control to see what if anything should be done. The nice lady that took the call said “Poison Control what is your emergency?”
I said “one of my staff drank 2 ounces of a bleach solution that was about 4 ounces of bleach and a gallon of water”
The lady replied kind of chuckling “is that all? Have her drink 8 ounces of water and expect an upset stomach. ”
“Thank you for your help” I responded.
“I have to ask you a few demographic details for our records” The Maven of Antidotes said with obvious amusement before I could hang up the phone
“How old is the staff person?”
I said “39”
“I am 38 damn it” yelled bleach girl
By now the Princess of Poisons was actually laughing she then asked for our first names and zip code. “Good Bye have a great day glad we could help” click she was gone.
Thus ended the excitement for the day in my world. I witnessed a potential Darwin Award winning episode this incident brought to mind another humorous episode from my past. It seemingly brightened the day of the Poison Control people as well. I guess a non-emergency is stress break for them.
Until next Time
I am as always thankful no animals were hurt in producing this episode
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PISS POUR "PENMANSHIP" STRIKES AGAIN
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Posted:Jan 9, 2007 12:43 pm
Last Updated:Jan 10, 2007 2:24 pm
3679 Views
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More years ago than I care to admit I was celebrating Friday with a group of friends. We called this GIFING [PRONOUNCED JIF-ING it came from TGIF]. Anyway this ritual started Friday afternoon after your last class. Which for most of us meant lunchtime . It could start earlier depending on, weather, test schedule, or peer pressure. This was one of the early starts. It was right after midterm exams spring semester and it was snowing. There were many reasons to celebrate or sorrows to forget that day.
A group of us started in the student union. We later walked to the bar district. Nature called along the way so I did what comes naturally ducking behind a tree. I caught up with the group. The females with us all remarked how unfair it was that I could pee so quickly. The stand up factor does speed things up after all.
The conversation that even eventually turned to things men can easily do that women can’t do as easily. My friend Jim remarked how it would be hard for a woman to write her name neatly in the snow while peeing. Especially without leaving footprints. That broke up the table with laughter.
On the way home nature called again. Jim and I decided to have a writing contest. One of the ladies actually agreed to judge after our masterpieces were completed. We finished our handy work. Jim insisted he should get extra credit for dotting the i in his name.
His ploy worked. He won. His pee writing was neater than mine. Looking back on this I am certainly glad Mrs. S my ruler wielding second grade writing teacher was not there. (See SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED PENGUINS post for further information on my adventures with Mrs S)Her brand of punishment would have stung more than losing.
Until Next Time
I am as always the one with piss pour penmanship
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WHAT IS KING KONG HIDING?
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Posted:Jan 4, 2007 7:37 pm
Last Updated:Jan 9, 2007 1:03 pm
3408 Views
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I was driving to work this morning listening to the local AM talk radio station. The two hosts were discussing old movies. The movie King Kong and all of its remakes came up. One of the hosts remarked that in all of the movies Kong was lacking something. The second chimed in perhaps it was retractable. Finally it was concluded that Kong was more like a Ken doll than King of the apes. For some reason the old rule of “thumb” that large hands and feet indicated more than large gloves and shoes popped into the tangle of neurons that is my brain. Presumably if King Kong had giant hands and feet then the rest of him would be of similar size. Large enough that it would be visible on the big screen in living color.
That lead me to think that either the rule of thumb regarding big hands and feet is wrong; or the king of the apes is hung like a wood tick. Lucky for me I arrived at work to save me from further contemplating King Kong’s package or lack there of.
Until Next Time
I am as always wearing large gloves
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I HELD UP MY END
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Posted:Jan 2, 2007 11:39 am
Last Updated:Jan 18, 2007 8:42 pm
3667 Views
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Years ago, I was getting a physical prior to joining the armed forces. The physical was given in the federal building of the closest major city to my home. The federal building was a few blocks from the baseball stadium. More about that later…
I wore glasses so I required “extra” testing. The “extra” testing required a visit to a civilian eye doctor. This eye doctor was a short walk from the federal building. The directions I got were simple out the door of the building turn left walk three blocks. I then had to turn right and walk six blocks to the neon eyeball. The final six blocks were through the “red light” district. I grew up in a small town whose “red light” district was the part of town with the stop lights. This was an eye opening experience for me to say the least. It then struck me this is how Dorothy must have felt in OZ. Minus the flashy shoes.
Hookers, pimps and junkies oh my…. Hookers, pimps and junkies oh my….
Hookers, pimps and junkies oh my….
Then I see the glowing eyeball I was seeking. The storefront of the office was dark wood. The painted lettering on the windows was old and faded. I opened the door the inside was dark and smelled old and musty. I half expected Igor to pop lout from behind the counter any second. I heard a voice call from the back saying I’ll be right with you.
The old man that appeared from the darkened doorway looked to be as ancient as the office. I handed him my paperwork and told them the in processing center gave me. He said follow me. I expected the exam room to have candles instead of electricity. The eye chart was yellowed with age other than that; it was a fast eye exam no more no less. All that was left was to run the red light road back to the in processing center.
On the way back to the in processing center I could hear the sounds of a baseball game from the nearby stadium. (important to remember) I arrived back at the in processing center unscathed. I turned in the results from my special eye exam. Then I was directed to stand in line with the next group for the actual physical exam. We entered this large room it was there we were directed to drop our pants, but not underwear. This Hispanic looking gentlemen in a lab coat walks out of an office. In a German accent he says I am Doctor Hardname, please take glove and hold it in your right hand. He quickly went down the line doing a hernia check on each one of us.
He disappeared back in to the office. We were told to pull up our pants and wait to be called in to the doctor’s office for the final check. When my turn came I walked into the office to find floor to ceiling windows without blinds or drapes. We were 16 or so floors up so no one should be able to see in. The office faced the stadium. The doctor who was sitting behind a desk with his back to the window asked a few routine questions. He then said turn around drop your pants and underwear and spread your cheeks. As I complied with his directions, a huge cheer could be heard from the stadium. He said very good get dressed. Guess I passed 
Until Next Time
I am as always holding up my end
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I WAS A TWENTY SOMETHING BEAN PREDATOR
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Posted:Dec 20, 2006 8:18 am
Last Updated:Jan 6, 2007 9:56 pm
3415 Views
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A warning by the author. Do not drive or operate heavy machinery while reading this post. It may (no it will) induce drowsiness.
I had a yet another flashback today. (No I did not drop acid when I was younger. These are all natural) It was trigger by of all things a broken plastic fork. I was taken back to the spring semester of my junior year in college. I had to take Biology 2 to complete the credit hours of biology required to apply to graduate school. The class was called analytical biology. That requires explanation in itself. This was normal basic biology. The lab section made it analytical. We did no actual experiments or dissections. We discussed them and played what if exercises. This was cheaper for the department then doing actual experiments.
Near the end of the semester we were discussing adaptation and biologic variability. Mutations that made life easier in the environment were considered favorable and would continue to be passed on. Mutations that made life more difficult where considered unfavorable and generally disappeared in a few generations. There were mutations scattered between the two extremes. It all boiled down to basic survival of the fittest.
My lab section was Wednesday mid afternoon for 3 hours. When we walked in to the lab for the adaptation and mutation experiment each student was given a plastic utensil. We were then told to group ourselves based on our utensils. There were intact spoons and spoons with out handles. There were intact forks, forks missing the two inner tines, forks missing the two outer tines. I was given a fork without outer tines. The number of students in each group was unequal.
We were then given our instructions. The spoons and forks represented two distinct species competing for the same food and space on an island. The modifications within each group represented mutations that may or may not be favorable with continued existence on the island. We were then shown a huge beaker of dried beans, some of which had been painted different colors. We were then told who ate which beans. (I do not remember the exact specifics but this is a close approximation to the instructions) The intact spoons could eat any type of bean. The handle less spoons could only eat small blue beans. The intact forks could not eat small blue beans or very small red ones. The forks missing the inner tines could only eat the largest beans for obvious reasons. The forks with the inner tines could eat anything they could get on the fork.
Then the exercise left the analytical realm and became an actual experiment. We were told we would be gathering beans using only our utensil. We would be working as packs of matching implements. The rounds would last 5 minutes. Each round represented a generation. At the end of each round the beans would be counted if insufficient food was collected then one or more members of the pack would be eliminate. Looking back on this it sounds like a Survivor challenge. The lab assistants with an evil grins on their faces told us to gather our stuff and meet them outside at the front of the building. The green space next to the lab building was a steeply sloped bowl. The ground was wet because it rained night before... I think you see where is going to end up. The TAs scattered the beans in the grass. We assembled in our tribes. The signal was given and the hunt was on. Gathering beans on a slippery slope with plastic utensils proved to be difficult. I survived a few rounds. The no middle tine group lost a few members.
After the 4th or 5th round the TAs announced that my group and the no middle tine group and learned to steal food. We were allowed to steal food from other packs. Things took an interesting turn at this point. We began individually grabbing beans from others as they collected them. It was far easier than only collecting them for ourselves. A few more people were eliminated. It was announced that no middle tine group lost the ability to gather and could only steal. The next rounds found us hunting in groups and taking the beans by force. At some point we became the cast of The Lord of the Flies. Knocking people down, rolling each other in the mud and rolling people down the hill. The smaller people in my group still gathered beans. The larger people served as hunters and guarded our gathers. The “experiment” concluded with a full on mud fight. . As it turns out my tribe managed to thrive for many generations.
A few days later I walked past the scene of my pack’s conquest. I looked up and noticed the hillside was overlooked by the psychology building. Where we subjects in a grad students research? I am not sure what this experiment was to prove. It did show that in a closed environment were migration is not possible. The species with the most ability with dominate. It also showed you are never too old to play in the mud.
Until Next Time
I am as always ready to play in the mud.
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A HARSH DOSE OF REALITY DELIVERED PRETEEN STYLE
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Posted:Dec 12, 2006 12:46 pm
Last Updated:Oct 11, 2007 8:41 am
3624 Views
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I was talking to my the other day. I mentioned John Wayne. He quickly responded "Who is that?" My is no slouch in the trivia department. Yet he had no clue who The Duke was. I suddenly felt ancient. I dismissed it as a one time thing. Wishful thinking...
A few days later he did it again. He made the statement; " today do not know how lucky they are to have all the technology they have..."
I said you are a , and you have always had technology. Of course, he argued with me. "The today have PSPs, Playstation 3, Tivo, and MP3 players. All I had was a Gameboy, your old Nintendo, video cassettes and CDs" The little fart made some sense. The technology is changing so fast 2 or 3 years is a long time.
I started to tell him about my first computer. I bought an Apple IIe in 1983. It was a screamer duo-5.25 disc drives, 256k of memory, monochromatic monitor. I paid $3000 or so for it. With a high speed dot matrix printer. . The I told him the original space shuttles flew with 3 on board computers that only had 64k of memory each. What really put things in perspective for him was when I told him his MP3 player had 10 times the memory and cost 20 times less.
He pondered that a while. Then he said, "Dad, did you have TV growing up?" I told yes we did. Color in fact, though black and white sets were still common. I then told him that we only had a handful of channels. That were only on limited hours. He followed that with "Gee I am glad I was not born in the old days like you." I had no response. What could I say? I suffered a mortal wound to my ego, delivered with a smile by my preteen . 
Until Next Time
I am as always getting older,
but better
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