Showing posts with label Chris Rodell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chris Rodell. Show all posts

Thursday, December 31, 2020

Tweets of the Year! ... No, really!


 I don’t know which of the two endeavors is more psychotic — haphazardly compiling a year’s worth of tweets or feeling compelled to read them. In fairness, I know of no one who admits to reading them. Maybe I should give away “I Survived 8days2Amish Best Tweets List.” It would be cool if I did and paparazzi snagged a shot of Melania wearing one on the beach …


Happy New Year! 





• You can play a mean bluegrass banjo or country fiddle here on earth & it won't matter one bit. Once you get to heaven, everyone's in a soul band.


• It’s a brazen betrayal of the sturdy container's very existence but most recycling bins cannot be recycled.


• I once imagined my life would include an era of depravity where I reveled in the dark cravings of the sordid flesh. Alas, the time for such wanton behavior has passed. Today, my idea of depravity is eating ice cream before lunch in a room where my wife and kids can see me.


• Many devote their lives to the pursuit of riches and power. I'm on a quest to rid my life of envy. I fear I'll always be envious of the envy-free.


Just once, I'd like to be in the clinic and hear the tech declare, "I'm here to draw blood!" have her don a beret, produce an easel, scribble furiously and hand me a paper with every spot covered in crimson red.


• I sometimes wonder if heaven is like "Fantasy Island" and God is like Mr. Roark. Then I wonder if the mere thought is sufficiently blasphemous to prevent my soul from ever finding out.


• When you order at the drive-thru do you make eye contact with the speaker like this disembodied voice will give you better service? Me? I flirt.


• Astronomers calculate Earth is 92,960,000 miles from the sun. I stepped outside today and I swear it feels more like 92,960,002.



• I was deeply flattered the other day when my daughter, 19, asked me for some life advice but am self-aware enough to realize that if I was anyone else and saw her asking me for advice, I'd think, "What could she possibly hope to learn from that jackass?”


• As a student of history, it's my understanding that man has waged war over injustice, territory, greed, vengeance, pride, and even reasons as petty as national vanity. As a student of breakfast, I'm surprised man has never waged a war over bacon. I'd enlist.


• Quid pro quo is one thing for another. More alarming in a legal sense is eight things for another or the rare squid pro quo.


• I used to make prognostications but I was so wrong so often I predict it'll never happen again.


• I wonder where the strangers who appear in our dreams go when we're awake and if they sleep in that place and have dreams that include people like us.


• Those who say they've lost everything and have no where to go but up often ignore the depth of a grave.


• Every four years I'm forced to overcome the confusion over whether Dixville Notch is an electorally significant New Hampshire village and not some anatomically precise porno jargon.


• I don't understand the need for the redundant spelling of tsetse fly. Is there a tse fly or a tsetsetse fly from which it needs distinguishing? Really, I don't tse the point.


• Most people confuse being opinionated with being correct. Just because you say something in a loud voice absent doubt doesn't mean you're right. Of course, that's just my opinion.


• ”Titanic" concluding now on AMC. I like the subtle irony of a movie where a painter gets framed and a woman whose name sounds like "ROWS" is hauled into a lifeboat and given an oar.


• Be honest: How much 'living' do you do in your living room? In fact, it should be called the "watching room" or, worse, the "ignoring-your-loved-ones room.”


• I wonder if any of the forward-thinkers at PETA have game-planned a pro-active position paper anticipating Jurassic scenarios where the organization defends the dinosaur's absolute right to roam free in the cities and the countrysides.


• If Jeremiah was, indeed, a bullfrog, who drove him to the liquor store to get his mighty fine wine? So much of the story remains untold.


• It infuriates me when I realize I'm 57 and my idea of a really great day is one that involves me finding a quarter. 


• The word quarantine refers to a period of time spent in isolation to determine healthfulness. It has been in use since the 15th century. The word Qur'antine refers to a period of isolation spent converting to Islam. It's been in use for about a minute.


• It’s heartening to see so many people being kind, encouraging and working toward shared goals. The pity is it always takes the world coming apart to bring people together.


• If they gave the death sentence for killing time could you live forever? 


• Podiatrists with empty appointment calendars are light on their feet.


• I guess I can understand the rationale, but it's still jarring. Wikipedia lists Charles Manson's occupation as "singer-songwriter" and he is thus in their eyes professional peers with Taylor Swift.


• I’m amazed to learn germs can jump nearly 6 feet. This would be remarkable if germs had legs. But they do not. How do they do it? Six feet! It would be like me broad jumping from here and landing in Denver. ESPN ought to organize germ olympics. I'd watch.


• Irony of living in these uncertain times is how so much uncertainty could produce so many who are absolutely certain they're never wrong


• Reading newspapers on-line is to reading actual newspapers what phone sex is to lovemaking. Gone is the soul, the serendipity and chance to get your hands good and dirty during the touchy endeavor.


• People are critical of hoarders and those trying to make an indecent profit off their stash, but to me it makes perfect sense. The biggest assholes are always going to need the most toilet paper.


• How many of you would take a pill that would prevent coronavirus but had one side effect: It would completely & emphatically change your opinion on Trump. That is, if you love him, you'd now viscerally & vocally detest him. And vice versa. I'll bet most of you couldn't do it.


• How unsettling will it be to your faith if Jesus returns Sunday, but he's wearing one of those HAZ-MAT suits?


• I think we're fast approaching a day where safe sex is all safe and no sex.


• I always chuckle at the inaccuracy when I hear people say the world can be cruel. Sillies, the Earth is inanimate and does not have emotions so Earth is never cruel. Earth is indifferent. Now Earthlings …


• And while we're at it, how come we're Earthlings instead of Earthians, ala Martians. I know of no equivalent. No Pittsburgherlings. No Frenchlings. Earthling sounds like the name for a captivity-bred panda


• I’m going to install a trampoline in the bathroom so when I announce I'm going to jump in the shower I can really -- oh, just forget it!


• Some projections maintain coronavirus self-quarantine could last another interminable 18 month. Months, days & endless hour after endless hour ... still not enough time to make me ever want to sit through "The Irishman" again.


• Lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, pride. How come something collectively referred to as "The Seven Deadly Sins" simultaneously check all the boxes for one really lively party.


• I refuse to be swept up in cynicism. I believe our best days remain ahead of us. The arts will flourish. Poverty and injustice will be vanquished & humans will enjoy an era were reason prevails. There will still be conflict, but in the future our wars will be fought with farts.


• I try and see the reason behind decisions I don't understand and believe even in divisive issues people with whom I disagree are acting in good faith. But when I hear someone - anyone - prefers regular Oreos over Double Stuf, I'm like, "What are you? Some kind of #%&*! idiot?”


• I’m buoyed by the fact that given our access to social media, prop pets/babies and our innate creativity then if we're destined to slide into another depression future historians will dub this The Cheerful Depression.


• Wonder if guys in heaven talk about earth bodies the way they talk about old cars: "It was bald, had a great big ass, tiny li’l pecker but, man, the thing got great mileage.”


• We live in a time when being right or being wrong matters less than always having someone to blame when it all goes to hell.


• Conservative whites who become livid when wished Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas think blacks over-reacting about unarmed blacks getting murdered by conservative whites.


• I remain baffled that the tasteless phrase "wouldn't kick her out of bed for eating crackers" persists. I've never encountered a gent so refined as to ask any cracker-eating female to leave his bed once she got in. In fact, if there were two willing women and one had crackers and the other did not, and he had to pick one or the other, guaranteed, most men would invite the one with the crackers to get in. Lesson: if you're a woman prone to promiscuity always, just in case, keep a sleeve of crackers handy.


• I awoke from a dream it was the night before when I'd awoken from a dream it was the night before. Now I'm confused about what day it is, if I'm asleep or awake or if I exist at all. I'd ask fellow quarantinies to pinch me but fear inviting violence could escalate …


• There’s something so unnerving about being engaged in a life-and-death struggle against an enemy our soldiers can't confuse or infuriate with a well-timed moon.                                                                                                                                                        


• People strum guitars. A guitar is an inSTRUMent. Which word came first?


• Leonardo da Vinci said, “The  human foot is a masterpiece of engineering and a work of art.” Given the scope of his admirations it’s surprising his most famous work is Mona Lisa and not Mona Lisa’s feet.



• I’m a law-and-order guy who believes not until all the laws are equitably applied to all the people can true order ever be enforced or expected. 


• Any man who says he's his own worst critic is either single or delusional.


• I’d like to hear a canine translation of what dogs say to other dogs when they discuss how humans package food. "So she left this box of Pop Tarts on the table. I jump right up there, but the Pop Tarts are wrapped in foil that's inside pressed cardboard. I was so pissed. I mean, what do you do if you need a Pop Tart, like, right away?”

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• Daughter, 14, expressed an interest in becoming a songwriter. I approved saying writing songs -- good songs --will bestow ways to cope with all life's problems. Then I disapproved because writing songs -- good songs -- has a way of bestowing all life's problems.


• Foot Facts — The average person takes between 8,000- and 10,000 steps a day. That adds up to 115,000 miles in a lifetime — four  times the circumference of the globe. Question: if for one day we all together walked toward the rising sun, could we reverse time?


• Many are saying they're avoiding social media. Too divisive. Not me. I check it every 10 minutes to see how many more of my jackass friends used the 10-week quarantine to become constitutional scholars.


• Do you remember when your biggest concern was that some minimum wage grocery store clerk would benignly wish you Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas? Ah, the good ol' days …


• In heaven, all the cakes are angel food. Heck, when you get right down to it, in heaven even things like Cheetos are angel food.


• Proper mimes can be safe, but never sound.


Q: If they fought a battle between all the FB friends you genuinely like and all the ones you secretly don't, who'd win?


A: No one. It’s a trick question. You should genuinely like ALL your friends!



• Happy #bobbybonilladay. It was Bonilla, a Pirate in '91, who inspired one of the all-time great perspective quotes from Bucco manager Jim Leyland. Bonilla said $24 million offer wasn't enough and he had to "take care" of his family. Leyland said, "Hell, for $24 million he can take care of Guam.”


• Our greatest frustrations stem from when we demand perfection from those incapable of providing it.


• Because we're all under some pressure to balance the language and be more even handed, I intend to spend the day thinking of whom I can accurately describe as a "daughter of a bitch." Then I'm going to start working on a book I'll call "Famous Sons of Famous Bitches!" 


• I almost made the mistake of responding to a friend's sweet compliment by declaring she's " too kind." Too kind? In a weary world where many people are mean from their toes to their teeth, no one can ever be "too kind." From today on, I bask in any surplus kindness. Bring it!


• America being torn apart over removal of Confederate statues. What's next? Will Germans commence removal of all their Hitler park statues? 


• When I see the family wreckage that often results from excessive money and the resulting greed, by God, I'm proud to be poor. That feeling persists right up to the moment the Xfinity bill arrives. 


• There must be a baker's equivalent to "piece of cake" that is not "piece of cake." Because if a baker says something is going to be a piece of cake and shows up with a pie instead he could be accused of loafing -- and don't get me started on bakers who loaf.


• Congratulations Facebook, now entering your 17th year of letting the most reckless among us to ascribe the worst of our political enemies to people we once considered our best of friends.


• You saying, "Now, I'm not a racist, but ..." and then saying something incredibly racist is like me saying, "Now, I'm not lazy, but ..." and immediately laying down to take nap.


• I encourage everyone to wear masks because they'll reduce the spread of germs that make people sick. Next, we'll encourage many of you to wear muzzles because they'll reduce the spread of your obnoxious opinions that make people sick.


• At one time and to even the leading scholars of the era, even The Dark Ages were considered "Modern Times." 


• I’m at first gratified that today in America we are taking meaningful steps to end racial inequality, but then become incredulous when I realize it's 2020 and America today is 244 years old.


• In 1996, Tom Petty and Johnny Cash, two icons worth a combined $190 million, came together to make an album called "Unchained." That they didn't call it "Petty Cash" is to me a bitter disappointment


• So, the Invisible Man eats a visible hoagie. At what point in the digestive process does the hoagie disappear?


• ”... and on the seventh day, He rested." See, God may have created Heaven and Earth, but in His infinity wisdom He knew better than to create a lawn that would need mowing every Sunday.


• The world will be better off if we get away from TVs that have 1,000 channels with 20 that broadcast news 24/7 and get back to TVs that have 20 channels with one that seems to broadcast Gilligan 24/7.


• I do not like eating outside. I do not like heat. I do not like noise. I do not like sharing my meal with things that sting. History lesson: Outside is the reason man invented inside.


• It’s rare to find an ice cube that's actually cubic. In fact, most ice is rhombus shaped. It's ironic, but saying ice rhombus wouldn't sound cool even though it's all ice ... Had to get that off my chest.


• I know it's unrefined for someone who aspires to sophistication of manners, but I sometimes wolf down my meals. My daughters are far daintier. It's more like they poodle theirs down. "Poodle Down!" would be a great name for some don't ask/don't tell military rom-com.


• It’s entirely possible to kick a squirrel right in the nuts and hurt only his feelings. Hers, too.


• This election is convincing me the first time many Americans will believe in science is when it is applied to the lift-off that takes them safely away from this planet which through their neglect and indifference has become an uninhabitable cinder.


• The new Rt. 30 Sheetz near Latrobe is being constructed so quickly I wonder if the bread'll have enough time to get properly stale.


• When even the mundane are deemed worthy of demonization Hell itself becomes pedestrian.


• Perspective: as godawful as 2020 has been, guaranteed, in 2041 our travails will be one paragraph in school history books that'll be boring future students. That is assuming 2020 doesn't take a really dark turn that'll mean 2041 never happens.


• Because it would suggest modernization and would require the change of just a handful of letters, I suggest we change the name of the Walter Reed Army Medical Center to the Walter O'Reilly Army Medical Center.


• I would think one of the most difficult things in nature would be being a praying mantis and trying to explain to your parents that you've lost your faith.


• I admit to feelings of wistfulness over not having sired a son. These feelings pass when I realize a son would by now be asking me, "Daddy, would you help me secure my man bun?" And to my everlasting shame I'd feel obliged to assist.


• Sure this all sucks, but #LookingontheBrightSide, it's sure to yield great movies and books for the survivors to years from now enjoy. Remember: without the global cataclysm of WWII, we never would have had "Saving Private Ryan.”


• Jeff Bezos is worth $178.8 billion. You and I are, well, worth less. But there'll be hell to pay if I ever catch anyone saying we're worthless.


• Fancy shaving ads about ease of accessing those "hard-to-reach" places crack me up. Hard to reach? I'm shaving my face, not the gnarled butt of some Mongolian yak 20,000 feet up the Himalayas.


• The people who make so-called Mega Stuft Oreos suffer from a serious lack of imagination.


• If Spring is when Mother Nature puts on her make-up, then Fall is when she starts climbing into her coffin.


• Told daughter, 14, Eagles "Hotel California" was originally going to be called "Hotel Pennsylvania" but The Golden State came up with tax breaks to secure naming rights. Her scornful reaction made me nostalgic for the days when daughters would fall for any line of crap.


• I’d like to know the first words of souls arriving in Hell when their last words on Earth were, "Goodbye cruel world!”


• Speculators envision a day when toilet paper is traded like coffee, milk or other commodities. They are mistaken. Toilet paper cannot become a commodity. Toilet paper is a commode-ity.


• If I labored in the janitorial services and spent a lot of time scrubbing toilets I'd spend a lot of that time wondering whose bright idea it was to make every toilet gleaming white. Isn't there maybe a better color, one that matches fixture functionality. Like maybe say, oh, I don’t know ,,, brown?






Thursday, September 24, 2020

My new book, Tin Lizzy signing & a euphoric fan

 

The sentimentalist and the crass self-promoter within me were at war as we drove to meet the 80-year-old widow who’d written me a gushy fan letter.


My friend Mark is her financial advisor. He usually buys 30 copies of my latest book and gives them to clients at Christmas.


This year he gave Charlotte a signed copy of my Fred Rogers book. Well, she just loved it and in her thank you note — how endearing — said my stories were hysterical, that I was her new favorite writer and included other compliments that in a bygone era would have lead me to conclude impure thoughts were justified.


So I sent her a “Crayons!” book and she just loved i, too. We began to correspond by mail — again, endearing!


I thought with the new book out it’d be a good time to surprise her. Mark agreed and yesterday we drove to her Greensburg home.


It occurred to me the surprise visit might yield some good video I could use for promotional purposes. But, as I told Mark, it might also ruin what had the potential to be a very sweet moment.


I believe pointing a camera at anything changes everything.


What if Charlotte was shy about her looks? She knew Mark, but she didn’t know me, a stranger in a mask. What if she had a heart condition? The video could become evidence in my manslaughter trial.


So I left the phone in my pocket and today I’m I awoke with the belittling and now-familiar taunt, “You’re such an idiot!”


Because the encounter with Charlotte was euphoric.


It was like we’d told her she’d won the Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes. 


She hugged me and burst into tears. 


I don’t think I could have gotten a better reaction if I’d with one touch healed her infirmities and freed her from her walker.


I guarantee John Grisham has never seen a reaction like that. I understand  Grisham’s books are intended to entertain and mine, particularly “Crayons!,” have self-improvement elements, but my point persists.


In order for Grisham to see a reaction like the one I got from Charlotte, he’d have to endorse one of his royalty checks over to me.


And yet again I’m left to ponder the vast gulf between reader adulation and my dismal finances.


Will this new book finally bridge the divide? I’m hopeful yet realistic.


I’m losing significant income thanks to Coronavirus restrictions that rule out lucrative speaking engagements.


Should I give up? Take a second job? Maybe become a plumber?


I think I’ll keep doing what I’ve been doing.


Getting reactions like the one I got from Charlotte convince me I must be doing something right.


Sure, it would’ve been nice to have it filmed, but I didn’t feel right blindsiding a sweet old widow.


Now, you, that’s a different story!


I’ll be signing my new book all day (and part of the night at Flappers) at the grand re-re-re-Opening of the feisty and resilient Tin Lizzy.


You’re welcome to stop by and say in 30 seconds or less why people should buy my books.


Sure you can do all that any day. You’re always welcome here. What makes Friday so special?


I’ll today be wearing the same outfit as the one I’m wearing on the ballyhooed cover of “Undaunted Optimist.”


Right down to the neon yellow socks.


Charlotte’s not the only one capable of being endearing.

















Wednesday, July 29, 2020

Tin Man Shoe Shine open for business!




Here’s a sampling of the supportive comments I got when I told friends I am starting a shoe shine business:

“You’re kidding, right?

“Did Val throw you out before or after you told her?”

“What? Did you think opening a bait shop would thrust you into a tougher tax bracket?”

As an old worm farmer, I should have thought of a bait shop first. Worms are good office mates — quiet, industrious, don’t cause office squabbles by wearing their tiny MAGA hats.

But selling worms by the cup sounds boring and I’m afraid it would lead to exotic recipe browsing whenever my stomach began to growl.

So please give a warm welcome to …

TIN MAN SHOE SHINE

“He’s Got the Heart if You’ve Got the Soles!”

Tin Man is an obvious nod to my Tin Lizzy base of operations. The name won out over …

• “Goodfella Shoe Shine! I Got Your %#$@-in’ Shine Box Right Here!

• “Toe-tal Eclipse of the Shoe: Shines So Dazzling They Blind!

• “The Shining: Heeere’s Johnny … With Your Like-New Shiny Shoes!”

So why shine shoes (Professional shine, $8; Presidential Shine, $15)?

About two years ago, I started becoming enamored with nice shoes. This roughly coincides with when the goddamned Parkinson’s began to impose a limp. I figured quality shoes would ease any discomfort.

And I sensed there might be an interesting book in it. The proposal I’m pitching is called, “No Business like Shoe Business.”

It’s about how man, the only animal to spend 80 percent of its entire existence on its back or its butt, became the only animal to spend $93 billion-a-year on footwear.

I got a pair if nice if unpretentious dress shoes — Johnston & Murphy, Oxford black CapToes, $199 — and from scratch began to acquire the brushes, polishes, waxes and dressings one needs to enhance the appearance of fine leather shoes.

I’d stumbled — limped, really — into a satisfying hobby. Shining shoes with the aromatic potions felt therapeutic.

But I only had two pair of dress shoes. I’ve since learned the average man has 12 pair of shoes; the average woman 27 (four pairs of which never leave the box).

I began to realize I was scanning pricey shoe web sites with the same enthusiasm the adolescent me once saved for the porno magazines.

I dream of buying some real show off shoes.

Still, I could own two dozen pair of shoes and not exhaust all the polishes.

A community shoe shine business could solve a lot of problems. I could pitch it to church men’s groups and tie it in with book talks.

I see no downside.

I already have one satisfied customer. Prominent Latrobe attorney and all-around good guy Chuck Mason got two pairs of loafers done last week. That’s them up top (afters above). I contend the difference is dazzling.

So please get in touch, my local friends, if you have some shoes that could use a shining. People who matter will notice.

Plus, there’s this from master English shoe maker George Glasgow Sr.:

“Invest heavily in your bed and your shoes. Because if you’re not in one then you’re in the other!”


Related …










Monday, July 13, 2020

A mishmash of catch-up items

I let an important “professional” anniversary pass without comment the week before last. June 30 marked the 28th year since I walked out on the last job I’ll likely ever have. Thus, I’ve only had three jobs since I began sprouting chest hairs — and one of them was at the Pizza Hut. I quit working for the man because I was convinced I had a bright and lucrative future as an author/freelance writer/bon vivant.

A bon vivant is someone who enjoys a sociable and luxurious life.

So I guess I’m one out of three.

• I remember coming home in those early years and Val would ask how my day went, if I’d achieved anything productive. “I won’t know for six months.” I I was lying. Twenty-eight years later and I still don’t know.

• I’ve had people ask me what’s the longest I’ve ever gone without blogging. “That’d be from 1963 through 2008.”

• I am an incorrigible smart ass

• This is my first blog post since June 15 when I wrote about being a white guy and getting out of a traffic citation. I apologize for not blogging more frequently as of late. And why I feel compelled to apologize for not doing something that pays squat is something I can’t explain.

• As of late I was busy putting together this video about how my new book got its new title. The book is a collection of essays taken mostly from this deadbeat blog. I wanted to call the book, “A New York Times Best Seller (by a small town BSer).” ’twas a tantrum of a title by yet another writer who’ll do anything for attention.

• So the new book is called, “Undaunted Optimist: Essays on Life, Laughter & Cheerful Perseverance.” How do I think it’s going to do? I’m, duh, optimistic it’ll do well, but fearful I won’t really know for 28 years. My publisher is encouraging me to stack up pre-orders, as robust interest at this stage will boost launch/marketing budgets. Interested in helping? You can pre-order right here.

• The cover is already scoring a lot of flattering attention. Taken by Brian Henry, it’s one of those pictures that looks so good I’m surprised they let me in it.

• A friend just said I’m “lookin’ fine” in the picture. In fact, that picture was taken in, gulp, 2015. She asked how I’m feeling. I feel good, but not like I felt in ’15. The difference? Today I have Parkinson’s, but in ’15 I was likely hungover so I guess you could call it what the bookies say is a push

• In hindsight, I feel like I lived four straight decades like I was a lit stick of dynamite, ever ready to detonate. Lately, I feel more like a candle, one that gives off a steadier, more illuminating burn. But a prank candle, one that keeps reigniting just when you think you have the damn thing blown out.
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• In an effort to preserve the remaining tatters of blog tastefulness I’ll resist seeking the perfect “blow me” punch line to that tempting set up.

• Another milestone surfaces on Wednesday, this one too momentous to ignore. The 15th marks the 5th year since I moved my office from The Pond — incredibly, I was evicted — and into the fabulous Tin Lizzy. I think how I got here and how being here has influenced my writing deserves a stand-along blog post on Wednesday …

Any volunteers?

• I’m not going to call it a party and I don’t want to encourage anyone to violate prudent social distancing protocols, but I’ll have a half-assed open house from 4 to 8 if anyone wants to stop by and say hello. More on Wednesday.

• Thanks for all your cheer and support!

Saturday, February 29, 2020

Leaper tweets of the month


• I used to make prognostications but I was so wrong so often I predict it'll never happen again.

• Because I enjoy security cam video of news that can only be described as miraculous, I hope today to see a massive sinkhole open up on a busy highway where an equally massive and adjacent landslide fills it in so neatly passengers in an advancing bus never notice either potential calamity …

And because I enjoy uninformed FB vitriol over things no one can explain, I hope the bus is full of either MAGA-hat wearing NRA conventioneers or rainbow-haired women's volleyballers on their way to a Pete for Prez fundraiser.

• I’d like to be in Boston today to inform Patriot fans who out of habit the day after the Super Bowl begin to set chairs out along the parade route that if they want to see honest champions they'd better get their asses to Kansas City.

• Two of the least popular people in the Republican Party are today two Republican senators chosen by Republicans to lead the Republican Party in two of the most recent presidential elections.

• I wonder where the strangers who appear in our dreams go when we're awake and if they sleep in that place and have dreams that include people like us.

• Those who say they've lost everything and have no where to go but up often ignore the depth of a grave.

• Not to be an alarmist, but who wants to bet that within the next 30 days one of our politicians will declare in the interest of public health we sink the cruise ships full of quarantined Coronavirus victims?

• Every four years I'm forced to overcome the confusion over whether Dixville Notch is an electorally significant New Hampshire village and not some anatomically precise porno jargon.

• I don't understand the need for the redundant spelling of tsetse fly. Is there a tse fly or a tsetsetse fly from which it needs distinguishing? Really, I don't tse the point.

• I know what you're thinking 'cuz I'm thinking it, too: "I just turned 57 and I STILL haven't sucked face with Madonna! What's taking so long?" Thanks, my friends, for all the birthday wishes.

• Most people confuse being opinionated with being correct. Just because you say something in a loud voice absent doubt doesn't mean you're right. Of course, that's just my opinion.

• ”Titanic" concluding now on AMC. I like the subtle irony of a movie where a painter gets framed and a woman whose name sounds like "ROWS" is hauled into a lifeboat and given an oar.

• Given the spread of Coronavirus, how long before Pirate owner Bob Nutting orders -- for prudent health reasons -- a game be played without fans? And given Pirate fan disdain, how long before anyone notices the difference?

• Be honest: How much 'living' do you do in your living room? In fact, it should be called the "watching room" or, worse, the "ignoring-your-loved-ones room.”


• I wonder if any of the forward-thinkers at PETA have game-planned a pro-active position paper anticipating Jurassic scenarios where the organization defends the dinosaur's absolute right to roam free in the cities and the countries.