Tuesday, August 23, 2011

An Anniversary and Dr. Poo

37 years ago today, Martha got married in Denver, Colorado.

37 years ago today, so did I. Also In Denver.

I don't believe in coincidences, but that one is darn tough to ignore.

When I wished her Happy Anniversary! at the breakfast table this morning she stared at me for a moment and then rested her forehead in her hand like she suddenly had a horrible headache. She had a caged animal look about her and, after regaining the power of speech, said, "Christ, has it been THAT long?"

I was ecstatic to know that, after all this time, I still have an affect on her.

And we're going out, too. In about two hours she's taking me to see Dr. Poo for the results of my colonoscopy.

Now go away, dear readers, because I have to wrap her anniversary present and that'll take about two hours. I'm giving her (actually loaning her) one of my elderly paperback books with a date of 1968. The poor thing has been sitting on the shelf for 40 years just wishing to be read again, so I think it's a really nice gesture on my part to give (loan) it to my bride.

Did I hear someone in the back row mutter cheap bastard?

Tuesday, August 09, 2011

Odds and Ends, Mostly Odds

You know, I could begin this issue of oddities with the following couple a thoughts:

1. With Rome in flames and the stock market in meltdown, CNN reported our Great Speechifier speechifying yesterday: "Calling the situation a 'legitimate source of concern,' Obama said the 'good news' was that 'our problems are imminently solvable, and we know what we have to do to solve them.' "

I wish I knew his definition for the word "imminent" because we could all use some imminent good news. I wouldn't hold your breath, though. In 2½ years, he and the Congress have fininshed bailing out the poor banks and made the health insurance companies more rich. Period.

2. The cost of our "wars" in Iraqistan are not included in the budget deficit, never have been, and are not part of the debt ceiling. So where have those billions and billions of dollars come from???

I was so happy when Prince William, on his tour of Canada, congratulated the Canadians for pulling out of Afganistan.

As the U.S. nears its tenth anniversary in that hellhole, however, we lost 30 troops on Saturday fucking around doing fucking WHAT? The Pentagon won't release their names as their garbage-bagged bodies arrived at Dover airbase today. Peace to their souls and condolences to their families and loved ones.

I could begin this issue of oddities with the previous couple a thoughts, but I've decided not to.

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I'm not much of watcher of biopics (although I liked The Last King of Scotland), but I'm looking forward to The Iron Lady due at Christmas (oops, the Holidays). It will be great to see Meryl Streep again and, as a nominee for sixteen academy awards, I think she'll make a helluva Margaret Thatcher.

And if a few Americans watch this film for Streep's performance, maybe they'll learn a little about British politics to boot.


Since the movie is a British production, I'm reminded of a question I've been meaning to ask. Is Pinewood Studios still in use?

*  *  *

Overheard from Sarah Palin:

"If the British had won the Revolutionary War we would all be speaking English now."

Grazie, Sarah.

*  *  *

Last Saturday, Martha had her oil changed. The oil in her Toyota, that is. Since auto batteries last only two or so years here in the desert, she had it tested. The battery, that is. Sho' 'nuff, it was down to its last few zaps. She grumbled her way over to AutoZone to buy a new one, presented the auto guy with the receipt for the dying battery, and was told a new one would be FREE—she had a seven-year warranty on a battery that lasted two. She was so happy when she got home she could almost have kissed me—she'd saved 80 bucks plus tax.

"See, honey, it pays to save those warranty things," I said.

"Bite me," she replied, too proud of herself to let my tiresome logic get under her skin.

There is a cult of Toyotans similar to owners of Volvos and Saabs: TALL tales abound about the reliability and durability of their vehicles. Why, here comes one now:

"I drove this here Toyota around the desert for 600,000 miles afore I hadta put in a gallon a gas and empty the ashtray. I drove it for another 600,000 miles, but I sold it 'cause the maintenance was too high: gas was up two bucks and the ashtray was full a'gin."

Deer pellets.

While the fixit guys were checking out Martha's car, they found two other problems: the water pump was leaking and something was wrong with the timing belt. That stuff is too complicated for me, but I understood the estimate to make repairs to the complications— $ 1,000. The leaking water pump dumped cold water on Martha's giddiness caused by her battery coup.

UNTIL Monday morning, when Martha Sherlock Callahan remembered we had an extended warranty. She rooted around in the glovebox until she found it and looked at the expiration date. On August 8, 2011, she was holding a warranty that expired on August 10, 2011. After a quick run to the women's restroom she called the dealer and today, August 9, 2011, all repairs are being made under warranty.

And who knows, when Martha gets home tonight she might almost want to kiss me again—especially if I keep my BIG mouth shut.

*  *  *

Lastly but not leastly, the news you've all been waiting for: the prep for my colonoscopy last week.

I can't BEGIN to tell you how bad the stuff I had to drink tasted, but I'll try. It was like everything I've ever stepped in or had stuck to the bottom of my shoes, liquified and blended with old motor oil. It was pure evil in a plastic bottle. And I truly think Martha was having fun watching me suffer—you know, just one of those harmless ways a girl gets revenge without doing anything overt with knives or ropes.

After drinking 64 oz. of The Stuff That Wouldn't Die, I would rather die than drink that shit ever again. What I might do is substitute hemlock when Martha isn't looking . . .

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