For the last week, there has been ample time to let my mind wander wonder wander.
The topics are random. Imagine. Randomness here !
In my attempt to 'organize' random, I have categorized my thoughts.
Pet Peeves:
For instance, these beauty pageants for kids. Not so much the pageants, but the Moms. What are these mothers thinking ? Annoyed doesn't even begin to describe
how I feel when just seeing a promo for one of those shows. No, I don't watch them. And then there's a show called Dance Moms. Out of curiosity, I watched for about 3 minutes before my blood pressure shot straight to the ceiling and I feared for my TV that I might just shoot it. Is this person for real ? What kind of parent would pay to subject their little girl to this kind of abuse from a person monster named Abby Lee Miller ? There should be an episode showing her in one of the tutus. No. No. Someone should charge her with child abuse.
Another pet peeve of mine is dogs dressed in clothing. Now, I understand the need for
those sweaters to keep the animal warm. The sweater has a purpose. What is the purpose of dressing a dog in a tutu or putting a wig on your dog ? Really people? I just have to wonder what the dog is thinking... "Does this blue tutu make my butt look big ?" "Maybe the pink wig wouldn't make my eyes so buggy-looking. "
Political Ads ! When is the Presidential election ? November 6, 2012. That's approximately 230 days give or take a week or two. Next question: How many political ads will be aired between now and then ? How much money will be spent on this propaganda ? If the candidates applied all that money to our deficit, it would bring it down considerably. There should be a law concering these ads. Actually, there should be several of them, but one should say something like: No candidate can mention his opponent's name, elude to his opponent in any way, shape, form, or fashion. The End.
Situational Awareness:
I spend an enormous amount of time in airports, and I people watch. It helps to pass the time. But, it never ceases to amaze me that some people think their coats, carry ons, backpacks, etc. have a need to 'sit' in a chair. Most waiting areas in airports don't have enough seats for everyone anyway, but when I see people standing because one-fourth of the chairs have stuff in them, I just seethe. Especially when I'm one of the ones standing. Well, that's not exactly true because I never hesitate to ask if it would be possible for the backpack to sit in the floor.
While we're on the subject of traveling, another example of S.A. is the people who stand in the aisle of the plane, take off their coats, dig in their carryons they've placed in the overhead, dawdle around while 100 of us wait either in the jetway (if we're lucky to have a covered one) or outside the plane waiting in sub-freezing temperatures with our hair about to blow off our heads while these people do what-ever-it-is-they're-doing-which-should-have-been-done-earlier.
Warm Fuzzies:
Thinking about funny things my grandkids do.
For instance, while visiting them in Okrahoma, my glasses had been misplaced. Imagine that ! Just in passing, it was mentioned, "If anyone sees my glasses, please tell me." This was met with a very adamant six-year old, standing with feet apart, hand on hips, with a very stern voice, who said, "Gammy, it's not MY job to keep up with YOUR stuff."
Ok, then.
Pretty obvious she's heard these words before.
Then there's the story about her two-year-old brother. Mom noticed he was
on the futon, almost asleep. So, when the gutter guys came to the door to ask some questions, she just stepped out onto the front porch to show them what to do. As she was doing this, she heard the door close behind her. And lock. She immediately asked one of the guys if he had cell phone on him, which he did. She called my son-in-law who works about three minutes from the house to hurry home with the garage door opener. In the meantime, she peeked through the window at the top of the door. This is what she saw: BabyDubYa, dressed only in a diaper and a rabbit fur hat on his head, wielding a three foot long sponge sword, running back and forth through the entry yelling,
"ARRRR ! I a pie-wat. ARRRR, I a pie-wat."
Miscellaneous:
Just not sure how to categorize these. Maybe: Buffoons Making the News.
New Orleans Saints players and at least one assistant coach maintained a bounty pool of up to $50,000 the last three seasons to reward game-ending injuries inflicted on opposing players, including Brett Favre and Kurt Warner, the NFL said Friday. "Knockouts" were worth $1,500 and "cart-offs" $1,000, with payments doubled or tripled for the playoffs. The NFL said the pool amounts reached a height of $50,000 or more in 2009, the year the Saints won the Super Bowl.
Reports indicate that Gregg Williams, former defensive coordinator, was 'in charge' of the bounty. My thought is he should banned from the NFL for coordinating such egregious acts. Do you have a thought ? What is it ? My other thought is that this probably isn't the only team doing this.
Moving on to this Bozo, the person who thinks if you used or use a contraception as a single woman you are a slut and possibly a prostitute. Wasn't it Rush Limbaugh who was caught returning from the Dominican Republic with illegally obtained Viagra. But, he doesn't really mind, he just wants to view the videos if the sluts and prostitutes have them.
aHansMan Story
No post of this nature would be complete without aHansMan Story. It will be cryptic, so just read between the lines.
Made an unexpected trip to Okrahoma for a funeral service. The date for the service was very close to another function happening there that we both agreed I should attend. So, theHansMan booked my flight. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Did you book the flight ?
Him: Yes. You'll be coming home the morning of Thursday, February 23.
Fast Forward to Wednesday, February 22.
My daughter and I are out running errands. I'm driving, so I ask her to be sure and check the location of the awards ceremony.
She does. Here's the conversation:
Her: Yup. It's at the Hilton Garden Inn.
Me: Good
Her: But it's on the 23rd.
Me: What's today ?
Her: The 22nd
Me: Are you sure ?
Her: And tomorrow is the 23rd !
Me: But theHansMan booked my flight for 9:00 a.m. on the 23rd. How does he expect me to attend the awards ceremony if it's tomorrow night ?
Her: Er, your guess is as good as mine?
Next phone conversation:
Me: Hey. What's today ?
Him: Wednesday, the 22nd.
Me: What's tomorrow ?
Him: Thursday, the 23rd
Me: When do I fly home ?
Him: In the morning.
Me: When is Becky's award presentation ?
Him: Tomorrow night.
I waited for something to connect . . . Earth to Hans ?
Me: How am I going to attend the ceremony tomorrow NIGHT if I'm on a plane home tomorrow MORNING ?
Him: I didn't know you wanted to go to the ceremony.
DEAD SILENCE
Me: Do you remember the conversation we had when we discussed my return date ?
Him: Uh-huh.
Me: Do you remember us agreeing it would be fun for me to go ?
Him: Uh-huh.
Me: Do you remember me telling you I called Allied Arts asking if I could buy a ticket even though the deadline had passed for making a reservation ?
Him: Uh-huh.
Me: Do you remember me telling you I even made a donation because the director said I could have a seat at Becky's table ?
Him: Uh-huh.
DEAD SILENCE
You can write the ending to this one yourself.
Makes me tired just thinking about.
And, I know, you're probably thinking, "Why don't YOU make your OWN reservations."
My answer is, "It's more fun this way."