Trashy Tuesday 11/26/2013

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe."

Albert Einstein

Two days before Gobbler Day and all of the birds have been thawed with care. The apples have been sauced, the cranberries are cranning (whatever that is) and the dressing is being fluffed and saged. Aw, the dressing – never can have too much sage my Grandpa always said. Of course, he is also the one who loved head cheese and invented a windshield wiper for a Billy goats ass. No, I am not going to explain that. He was a goofy old guy. He loved practical jokes, arguing and trading. When I was a little kid he got me with the invisible dog trick. You see he had this leash attached to a collar. He would walk around just as though there was a dog in the collar. He claimed it was his invisible dog. The “dog” would stroll up alongside someone like my mom for instance. Hesitate a moment, do its duty on her shoe and saunter along. Here she is with a soaked shoe and everyone roaring. Yep, invisible dog. 
 
We were farmers back in the day in central Iowa you see. God's country. Black dirt as far as the eye could see. We worked hard and long but always had time for lunch followed by a bit of time to relax and discuss the matters of the world. I was just 10 or so and didn't know much about the world but I listened a lot. The discussion would always start innocently enough. Just chitter chatter by my dad, grandpa, my mom and my older brother who, at seventeen, knew everything. Within ten minutes, voices had raised a notch or two, Grandpa as usual took the other side of whatever they were talking about, usually politics at some level. The topic had nothing at all to do with this arguing exercise. If it was white to my dad; it was black to my Grandpa. Being 10 and observant, I noted that 2 lunches in a row they argued about the same thing, both swapped sides on the second day. This had me confused for a long time. Shoot I didn't know who or what to believe. My brother understood because he was 17 after all. When I reached 17 and knew everything, it was clear to me why they argued the way they did. They enjoyed the verbal jousting. It kept their wits honed and relaxed them enough for a short nap before going back to work. Sure was glad when I got to be 17 so I could understand.

Now Grandpa was not very ambitious and as I noted above he was a talker. He would go to town every once in a while. He had several old timers that he bartered with. Always trading something useless for something else that was equally useless. He brought this jewel home, cleaned it up, refurbished it sort of and ALWAYS spray painted it either Metallic Silver or Metallic Gold. He spray painted it badly to boot. Those were the only two colors he recognized. I have several very nice antique items from the farm all of which have his trademarked Metallic Silver paint on them. 
 
Hey, sorry I just got off on a tangent there. I was waxing nostalgic there for a moment. Not the same as waxing your legs though. That brings up just why people would want to consciously inflict such pain to themselves by waxing the hair off their body. I can think of about a million things more enjoyable. Do you suppose vanity is part of the reason? I have never had a desire to be waxed, not even a tinge. Unfortunately, I have been waxed once. It was totally beyond my control though. You see when I was in high school, I played football, not well mind you, but I played. Our coach, Mr. Tassel I think, was a recent grad of Kansas State Univ. and yes, he played football there. He had a double dose of testosterone and was very demanding. I showed up in the locker room before the first game of the season where I was informed that my ankles would be taped. Standard operating procedure for running backs was what I was told. Well, okay, they got taped. I was not yet 17 at the time and didn't know better. We played the game, badly as it turned to be the norm. Sweaty, dirty and dejected there we were in the locker room. The pads came off, shirts, socks and etc. It was at this time that “Houston We Have A Problem” was discovered. Tape – how do we remove it? All of us had hairy legs. We had not been warned beforehand to shave our legs. Some of the players had a higher pain threshold and just ripped this stuff off. Oh they screamed very loudly but that eased off after ten minutes or so. I chose the go slow and rip one hair at a time out of my legs. Oh there was pain but with one hair at a time the intensity was much lower. It was about an hour later when the last strip of tape came off. The next day I shaved what hair remained and continued that practice until football was over. I questioned the wisdom of a vertically challenged kid only 16 and not all knowing yet who played on a team that was never going to be good, to play football. Waxing after that was never a temptation for me.

We are having a nice crowd here for Thanksgiving. It should be a really nice time and am looking forward to it. I wish my brother and family lived closed so we could see them more often but it is what it is. I don't know if you have seen this K-Mart commercial or not. It is on youtube and everything. There are these seven or eight guys dressed in white shirts, ties and coat standing behind a white table. They are ringing bells to a Christmas tune. All of a sudden, the table is removed and they are standing with nothing but tight shorts from the waist down. Bells are attached to these shorts and they are playing this song by gyrating their hips. It is really a stitch the first couple of times you see it. With that said, I thought I would recruit the Grand Dogs for a little show at Thanksgiving. We have been working on them having a belt around their hips and standing on their back legs and jingling the bells. I don't know if you can draw a mental picture of 2 – 18 lb. Black pugs, one on either side of a 75 lb. Yellow Lab all on their back legs, balancing and trying to gyrate the bells. Our practices so far have been quite a hoot but I still haven't quite got them all in sync yet. We still have a couple of days. Regardless, I am sure the crowd will enjoy their effort.

Do you know Pickles? What's that? No, you idiot not the kind you eat. I'm talking about the comic strip. In Sunday's paper, Grandma is complaining about the pain between her toes. Her doctor explained she has a corn. It was caused by a loss of fat between her toes. She continues to rant saying something like “with all this dieting, where do I lose weight – between my toes. Can you believe that?” Grandpa, still reading his paper, responds, “Yes. I've been meaning to compliment you.” That is the way he rolls, it would seem!

I know you are looking at your watches and wondering when this will be over. I am wondering myself. The French Roast is gone, also no donuts or rolls again today and my mouth is getting dry. OBTW (Oh, By The Way), I had an opportunity to visit our new Dunkin Donuts on the other side of town last week. After an eye appointment which saw my eyes dilated, I attempted to drive home. Dunkin Donuts was about half way and about as far as I thought I could drive. I had successfully avoided causing an accident up to that point so a rest stop was a good call I think. Bottom line, I wasn't impressed. They premix your coffee and charge you I think. I use only a scoshe of creamer. That wasn't an option so I settled for one. Way too much plus my donut was rather dry. That is the way I roll and living the good life in the '60's. Happy Thanksgiving to all. TA!