April Fools’s Day Should Be More Often

Sometimes, I wish every day were April Fools’ Day. With enough creativity, hilarity becomes infectious and we fall into our respective pillows filled with shaving cream, believe fantastical stories without regard to reason, and remember that life itself is one continuous prank on each of us. It is the best thumb-in-the-eye to this stuffed-shirt world.

The world would be both more interesting and tolerable if tomfoolery flourished with greater frequency. I’m not just saying this because I evidently am built with nothing except goofiness in mind.

I don’t usually do much, but I admire any attempt to catch someone off guard.

Earlier, I called the warranty manager for my home-builder and slowly told her I had an awkward situation. “Well, the heating technician who came to our house was outside without protective eye-wear and got his face full of dust from the unit. He came inside to use our bathroom and flush his face clean. He left his glass eye in a cup next to the sink. And I think he forgot he left it there when he was done.” It wasn’t until she started typing that it hit her that she probably ought to reconsider sending that email. It was good fun and she laughed.

Everyone should get a laugh like that one.

A Small Post

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The words “accidental” and “cooking,” and “reasonable” mean different things to different people. – X

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Trump will do for education and fairness what he has done for the color orange.

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” No matter how they smile when they say it, if someone gives you the nickname ‘McGriddles,’ it probably is not a compliment.”

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‘Due to the lack of praise in the household for my culinary skills, I am proud to announce that I will soon open my first eatery, “Minimally Edible.”   ‘

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Doc Holliday Art…

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Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday.  I finally got one for myself and framed it, although the simplicity of the painting lends itself to placing without a frame. My wife convinced me that the silver frame would offset perfectly against the orange and black – and she was right.

I’ve bought 5 of these, as well as a few others for friends and family.When people see the painting, they invariably react with “Cool” and ask me about it. I think it would be a huge hit and surprise for most guys for their birthdays or Xmas.

I’m having a Clint Eastwood painting done and I’m sure it will be just as big a hit as the others. My latest is 16X20, although other sizes are available.

 

“Down by the creek, walking on water.” That’s where I’ll be.

A Song I Wrote

 

I made this strange song. It’s intended to be both metaphor and actual. I wrote the music, added the effects, and decided that a traditional approach wouldn’t work for me.

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The woman’s voice is that of my mom. She had her demons and those shadows still silently creep up behind me. She was more than what plagued her, as are we all.

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This is as personal as it gets. It’s not intended to inflict harm.

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I fully expect people not to “get” it.

 

 

Jury Duty At Last

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When I was very young, I tried repeatedly to get jury duty. Probably due to my asinine name, I couldn’t manage it. I remember the look of incredulity one of the federal court employees gave me when I asked her how to get on jury duty. One would have thought I asked her to cut my hair by peeling the scalp off my head. I guess asking for jury duty wasn’t something a normal person aspired to? The same result occurred at the county level. I’m pretty sure they were laughing at me when I exited the clerk’s office after inquiring.

No one wanted me. I felt like Spiderman must have felt when he showed up at the crime scene suffering from terrible diarrhea.

After years of thinking nothing more of it, I got the dreaded Jury Duty Notice in the mail recently. I could also hear the universe laughing maniacally at my shock when I opened the notice. I’m not sure the government knows what kind of nutcase they are inviting to be a part of the process, but if they want me to play the part of dutiful citizen, I will vainly try to keep a straight face while doing so. I may very well be wearing a fake mustache, but I will have a straight face.

Let’s be honest, would any of you want me sitting in a jury deciding your fate? I didn’t think so. I would come in 5th in a three-man race for ‘Most Reasonable.’

In what universe is it sensible to invite ME to jury duty? If called to trial, I am going to object loudly for both sides, bring my own handcuffs, as well as consume large quantities of beans for every meal. I may also chew on garlic tablets at every opportunity. To paraphrase Zach Galifianakis, I might also sit quietly with my eyes on either the prosecutor or litigant’s attorney and say “Oh bullcrap” quietly each time they make a point. I’m also going to wear a different wig each day until someone notices.

I have a real problem deciding a person’s freedom. Monetary claims are one thing, but I have always said I’m not comfortable being involved in cases where jail is a possibility. (For the defendant, not me, although given my irreverence, I may very well be behind bars for a big list of reasons, the least of which might be contempt of court.)

Anyone with a critical eye can see that money is the single biggest determinant of outcome for lawsuits, whether criminal or civil. Eyewitness testimony is unreliable, our memory is nothing like we imagine it to be, and impartiality is what we claim we have all the while believing in nonsense such as horoscopes and the political process being fair. The ability of our legal system to restrict our ability to see and hear all the evidence is almost total. As in life, we think we know what we are talking about because we saw a two-minute clip about it on the Ellen show one afternoon. We’ll all seen too many courtroom dramas and heard too many cases where nothing turns out to be as it seemed. Trials are massively complicated affairs that should be left to the experts.

I feel very sympathetic to those without means being required to perform jury duty. Not all employers encourage or treat those chosen for jury duty appropriately. It disrupts one’s life, the ability to care for one’s family, not to mention gives some of those who can’t get out of it a terrible attitude. Remember that when you are watching a real jury sitting in the box, frowning and fidgeting, desperately waiting to get behind closed doors and find a way to give someone the death penalty. Just for not returning a library book.

There are too many people who are retired, independently capable of duty, or not able to work but who possess the mental faculty to be on juries for us to continue to mandate jury duty.

And it will be me, confusing the perplexed jurors stuck in the room with me, who is to blame when a one-day trial results in a six-week jury deliberation and $12,000 dining bill for the county.

We’ll all finally come out of the jury room and then quietly line up in the box. The judge will ask with great solemnity: “Have you reached a verdict?” At which point the fatigued foreman will rise, open a crumpled envelope and say, “Yes, we the jury find X Teri guilty of gross ignorance and stupidity and sentence him to jail instead of the defendant.” And a great applause will erupt while all the jurors weep in relief.

And as the judge commences to bang his gavel to close the proceedings, I will jump up to the bench and hold a single nail underneath his gavel, so that when it arcs down and hammers, it will drive the nail halfway into the judge’s desk. It’s something I’ve always aspired to, especially when I used to watch Judge Ito in the O.J. case. I could then gleefully say “He nailed it.”

I really did get a 3 month sentence (I mean to say ‘term’) of jury duty. I’ll do the best I can and although I am joking about it, I will do what I can to follow all instructions from the court. Like the Army though, my motto is “Be All You Can Be.” That’s dangerous advice for weirdos.

I will faithfully listen with great caution and remind myself that we are wrong about so much that failing to take it seriously can cause harm to people who have done nothing to injure me. But if the prosecutor paces in front of me too much, I am going to lick my lips provocatively at him or her until he or she forgets what in blazes was being said. And if he walks to close, I’m definitely going to trip him or her while mumbling, “That was for Marcia Clark.” Thanks

 

We Are Waving Silhouettes

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If we are lucky, each of us remembers grandma on the porch, waving, watching us depart. We felt diminished by our departure. All of us now take turns being waving silhouettes, although we are often oblivious. Time is whispering at each of us, reminding us that there is always a last time we will wave with love and turn away.

 

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Pat Conroy Crossed the Bridge

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Pat Conroy, one of the best American authors to have ever penned a word, died yesterday. So often did I read his books when I was younger that I imagined grooves were created in my mind, ones filled with lyrical prose, and places brought to life, whispering their presence long after the book was closed. Whether it was in “Prince of Tides,” or “Beach Music,” Conroy knew how to create that echo of resemblance to things both real and imagined, and a desire to live in those worlds. The world has lost something mystical with his passing.

Happy Tuesday!

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“Optimism & opportunity: In a world in which a boy named Marion can grow up to be ‘The Duke,’ almost anything is possible.” -X

 

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“If baseball were a food, it would be earwax.” – X

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As many of you know, I’m a car nut. I love building motors and fixing vehicles. Just kidding! I felt like a NASA engineer figuring out how Ford managed to hide a simple blinker bulb in the rear assembly of my Ford Focus this afternoon. The neighbors watched in amusement as I drove a victory lap around the block in celebration.

#blinkerfluid

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I thought the sign said “Veto today,” so I said “NO!” to everyone and wrote large red “X”s on all the documents I encountered.

Another Great Weekend at Wisteria Lane

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While all 4 cabins have great amenities, the truth is that cabin #4 is the best location, as it is at the end of the property, abutting wilderness and quiet. No one else stayed at the cabins this weekend, which was a shame for everyone else and a blessing for us.

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My wife and I spent the weekend at the best cabin retreat possible: Wisteria Lane, with 70° weather in February. I grilled 3 times & was visited by the largest crow I have ever seen. I christened this new bird the “Dawnus Bird,” for humorous and legitimate reasons I am forbidden to disclose. We watched a couple of spectacular movies, listened to some great music and Dawn pretended to read while being interrupted 256 times. But nothing compares to the porch swing in the middle of nowhere.

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I am so appreciate of the fact that our lives allow us the time and ability to get away to such a great place. It’s north of Eureka Springs and Holiday Island, short of the Missouri border, tucked away in a valley. I’ve written about it before and will undoubtedly sing its praises in the future. I’ve stayed at Wisteria close to 30 times and always miss it when I’ve not been in a while.