Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2018

Archive for the tag “Nonfiction”

The Royal Wedding

DID YOU STAY UP ALL NIGHT TO WATCH THE ROYAL WEDDING? I didn’t, but it was close. My wife, the lovely and seriously Royal Wedding-a-phile, Dawn, planned it all out. Up at 4 AM, a pot of tea, and comfortable chair. That and the TV and she was set. I was set too. At about 11 PM I was in my Lou Ferrigno Onesies and checking out for the duration. I was asleep before the first Fascinator showed up.

It’s not that I don’t care about the lovely couple and the wedding.

Read more…

Advertisements

What’s Shakin’?

 

I DON’T KNOW WHAT POSSESSED ME, but this morning I took a few minutes to look at The New York Times. I have been feeling rather feverish so I will attribute it to that.

A large photo that looked vaguely familiar took up a lot of the front page above the fold. It was an aerial photograph of downtown San Francisco – my old stomping grounds.

I lived in San Francisco from 1978 until 2002 and I saw a great deal of transformation in The City during that time. Looking at that photo in The Times I could scarcely recognize it as the city where I had lived. Their transformation continues.

Read more…

Throwback Thursday from May 2015 – “I’ve Never Had That Happen – Exactly”

Throwback Thursday from May 2015 

 

I’ve Never Had That Happen – Exactly

PerkinsLAST NIGHT, MY WIFE, the charming and lovely Dawn, and I were watching a show on Netflix where the two main characters in the story were thrown out of a bar. Dawn turned to me and asked, “Have you ever been thrown out of a bar?”

I quickly thought back over the decades of my life and answered her truthfully, “A bar? No, I’ve never been thrown out of a bar – exactly.”

That answer did, as you might expect, elicit a call for my definition of the word “Exactly” in this context.

Have I ever been thrown out of a bar? No.

Have I ever been asked to consider my continued presence an unsafe extension of privilege? Yes.

Read more…

Low Tech Usage For A High Tech Creation

I HAVE TO ADMIT IT. I am finding having the “Alexa” technology in the house both helpful and entertaining. It can also be a bit perplexing at times, but we confuse it just as often.

“Alexa” is the attempt to make our home a “Smart Home.” in contrast to what it has always been – a “Smarty Pants House.”

We have that little hockey puck size device hooked up to the Internet so that we can get information by voice command. Quite nifty, but not as simple as it sounds. “Alexa” might be an example of “Artificial Intelligence”, but that doesn’t mean that she is all that smart. It doesn’t take much to stump her.

Read more…

Reblog From – The Bluebird of Bitterness – “Bar Jokes For English Majors”

Today we take Extreme Pleasure to post a hilarious Reblog from the unique point of view that is: THE BLUEBIRD OF BITTERNESShttps://bluebirdofbitterness.com/2018/02/20/bar-jokes-for-english-majors/

 

“The Opinions expressed are those of the Author. You go get your own opinions.”

“When I read this I just laughed out loud. People stared.” – Krafty

 

Bar jokes for English majors

A dangling participle walks into a bar. Enjoying a cocktail and chatting with the bartender, the evening passes pleasantly.

A bar was walked into by the passive voice.

An oxymoron walked into a bar, and the silence was deafening.

Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.”

A malapropism walks into a bar, looking for all intensive purposes like a wolf in cheap clothing, muttering epitaphs and casting dispersions on his magnificent other, who takes him for granite.

Hyperbole totally rips into this insane bar and absolutely destroys everything.

A question mark walks into a bar?

A non sequitur walks into a bar. In a strong wind, even turkeys can fly.

Papyrus and Comic Sans walk into a war. The bartender says, “Get out — we don’t serve your type.”

A mixed metaphor walks into a bar, seeing the handwriting on the wall but hoping to nip it in the bud.

A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.

Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They converse. They depart. 

A synonym strolls into a tavern.

At the end of the day, a cliché walks into a bar — fresh as a daisy, cute as a button, and sharp as a tack.

A run-on sentence walks into a bar it starts flirting. With a cute little sentence fragment.

Falling slowly, softly falling, the chiasmus collapses to the bar floor.

A figure of speech literally walks into a bar and ends up getting figuratively hammered.

An allusion walks into a bar, despite the fact that alcohol is its Achilles’ heel.

The subjunctive would have walked into a bar, had it only known.

A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned by a man with a glass eye named Ralph.

The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense.

A dyslexic walks into a bra.

A verb walks into a bar, sees a beautiful noun, and suggests they conjugate. The noun declines. 

An Oxford comma walks into a bar, where it spends the evening watching the television getting drunk and smoking cigars.

A simile walks into a bar, as parched as a desert.

A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget.

A hyphenated word and a non-hyphenated word walk into a bar and the bartender nearly chokes on the irony. 

 

Pass Me The Crayon

 

THIS PAST TUESDAY was Election Day around here. All sorts of people running for all sorts of governmental offices. As usual, the voters stayed home in droves. Primary elections are really just political party love fests. The various party leaders decide who they want as a candidate for the November General Elections then they hold these Primaries to move the cards around on the table to let you try to pick the winner. It is sort of like a Three Card Monty game with lawn signs.

On Tuesday afternoon my wife, the lovely and politically enthusiastic, Dawn, and I went to vote. That is when the curtain slipped a bit and The Wizard became visible.

Read more…

Throwback Thursday from May 2015 – “Remember – You Called Me”

Throwback Thursday from May 2015  

 

Remember – You Called Me

Not againWE HAVE PUT our home phone number on those “No-Call” lists for years, but it doesn’t seem to work. We still get several calls a week from organizations begging for money, “Canadian pharmacies” selling pills, and a variety of computer scams both foreign and domestic.  Since they called me I consider them fair game for a little verbal knee to the groin retaliation.

Here are a few of my favorite ways to yank their telephonic chains. Feel free to use any of them or simply use them as inspiration to create your own.

Let The Games Begin!!

Read more…

Down, Boy! Down!

SOMEONE KINDLY INFORMED ME this morning that this month has been designated “National Dog Bite Prevention Month.”

Who knew? Nobody told me about it until today. More importantly, I’d like to know if anybody bothered to inform the dogs of the world about this.

I have never been bitten by a dog – other than the playful nips of puppies. To be truthful, I’ve suffered more bites from humans than I ever have from animals. I have been scratched by dogs, but that happened while the dogs were showing me how glad they were to see me. “

Read more…

I Think I’ll Take The Bus

 

“HOLY LIABILITIES, BATMAN!” Yet another reason to stay off of Interstate 70 has just reared its ugly head. The first “Driverless Car” has come to Terre Haute (That’s French for “Who is your insurance agent?”).

Maybe it is a coincidence or someone is making a sly statement, but the headline on the story in the local fish-wrap reads thusly: “First Driverless Car Hits the Market in Terre Haute.” Given the recent problems with this new technology “Hits the Market” may be more prescient than they think.

Read more…

“A Blowtorch In The Wind”

WHAT IS GOING ON IN SEATTLE? It is still the middle of the night out there, but I’m sure that somebody must be at the St. Arbucks corporate wheel. For three days now they have been piping in almost non-stop Elton John songs into this store in Indiana.

Three days of an Elton John-a-thon and as soon as I mentioned it to the Barista here in Terre Haute (That’s French for “I’m Still Standing.”) the Elton John music came to a screeching halt and was replaced by something for your “Pickin’ and Grinnin’ Pleasure” – some serious country music with banjos and such. That lasted for all of ten minutes and then “Tiny Dancer” signaled a return to the Elton John Extravaganza. My guess is that whoever is the big Reggie Dwight fan had to go to the bathroom and his Cousin Lemuel, visiting from Grinders Switch, Tennessee changed the playlist. When Lemuel’s cousin returned from the Euphemism so did Mr. John.

After three days I felt that I had to take action. I was going to be Proactive! When it comes to music I’m not fussy, but still…three days?

Read more…

Time After Time

TOO EARLY THE OTHER MORNING I was up and scampering about, unable to sleep. I had the TV tuned to TCM and watched a movie made back in 1979 – “Time After Time.”

“Time After Time” came out shortly after I’d moved to San Francisco. The movie was filmed there and it was fun to see places in town that I knew.

The storyline was about H.G. Wells, the author of “The Time Machine,” using his invention to chase after Jack the Ripper who had used Wells’ Time Machine to leap ahead in Time to modern day (1979) San Francisco. It was a fun little thriller of a movie, but I bring it up today because it got me to thinking – a dangerous activity even on a good and well rested day for me.

Read more…

Throwback Thursday from May 2015 – “Walk A Mile In Her…Nevermind”

Throwback Thursday from May 2015

 

Walk A Mile In Her…Nevermind

BET AWARDS '14 - Show

ONE OF THOSE TRULY GREAT MOMENTS in Television history happened the other day.

On “The Price is Right” game show with Drew Carey a contestant won a prize that, chances are, she will not be using.

About ten years ago Ms. Danielle Perez was in an accident and lost both legs. She has used a wheelchair since then and has continued on with her life.

When she attended the taping of the game show she was selected to be a contestant. If you look at the video at this link http://www.thewrap.com/the-price-is-right-awards-a-treadmill-to-a-wheelchair-bound-contestant-video/  you will see that she played the game and won! Her prizes were a sauna and a treadmill.

Immediately a large “hoo-haw” about this erupted on the internet, calling it a “Cringing moment,”  “Embarrassing,” and similar comments.

Cringing for whom? Embarrassing for whom? It wasn’t either for Ms. Perez. She seemed quite happy about it all.

Those “Cringing moment” comments come from those people who look at Ms. Perez and see only a wheelchair. They are “Embarrassed” for her. They think that Ms. Perez is the disability, not someone with a disability.

The Politically Correct Vultures began to circle overhead immediately making demands on the game show producers to give Ms. Perez special treatment. They demand that she be offered the value of the prize in cash, even though that is not a standard practice.

The “PC’ers” are “Outraged” about this whole thing, but they are always “Outraged” at everything. Some people collect stamps for a hobby, the PC’ers get “Outraged.”

I’ve read several stories about Ms. Perez and her new treadmill. She is a woman who has her head screwed on quite nicely. She thinks the whole thing is funny.

IT IS FUNNY!

Because Ms.Perez is not fitting into the PC Bigots stereotype I would expect that they will shortly turn on her and begin to call her names.

As you may have picked up by now: this posting is not so much about Ms. Perez and her new treadmill as it is about the twisted world of Political Correctness.

The acolytes on the PC altar pretend that they care more about people’s feelings than the rest of us. I suppose that in a way they do. Of course they care because they want to control how people feel and behave. For them it is all about power and control. PC is a weapon to be used to force their perceived enemies (anyone who isn’t them) to conform and act as they demand.

They are nothing more than the schoolyard bullies who want to dictate how you must live and think.

And if you don’t think they are in it to see what money they can extort, you are very much mistaken. It’s a Con Game.

Ms Perez ain’t buying into it. She is a thinking adult who refuses to be used as a crowbar to intimidate the PC’ers latest target.

Someone asked me, “What is she supposed to do with a treadmill?”

The basic answer is, of course, “Whatever she damn well pleases.”

She can refuse the prize. All prize winning contestants can do that.

She can take the treadmill and give it to a friend or family member.

She can sell the darned thing on Ebay if she wants.

She can donate the treadmill to the charity of her choice and get one very nice tax deduction because it would be valued at what the game show said – Manufacturer’s Suggested Retail Price – which is usually higher than what it could be purchased for in a store.

Ms. Perez is going to do quite nicely, thank you.

I’m sorry if I come across as a bit caustic about this but I have had to deal with these idiots all my life. If it’s too much, don’t worry. You’ll get over it.

If you are “Outraged” – all I can say is

Bite Me.

***

Please tune in tomorrow for another chapter in our continuing soap opera, “Down The Hall On Your Left” brought to you by a couple cups of coffee and an attitude.

That’s No Way To Treat A Lady

Ladybug! Ladybug!
Fly away home.
Your house is on fire.
And your children all gone.

All except one,
And that’s little Ann,
For she crept under
The frying pan.

I don’t think so.

WHEN I WOKE UP THIS MORNING I staggered into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. After the initial shock wore off I noticed that there was a Ladybug clinging to the middle of the glass. At first I thought that I had grown a very colorful zit overnight. I realized that it was not a zit when it started to move across the mirror. My zits rarely do that.

Read more…

We Need The Real Thing

IN AN ACT OF SELF-PRESERVATION I have decided to start thinking about where, when, and how Dawn and I might squeeze out some vacation time this Summer.

It has been a while since our last true vacation. Our last vacation was a real doozy to be sure – seven weeks in Ireland, but that was then and this is now.

I know – it seems like we have been going to and from Texas every other day, but those trips don’t qualify as vacations. Those are family visits. I’m not complaining. They are all wonderful people, but visiting with Family is no vacation. We need the real thing.

Read more…

A Man, A Plan, A T-Shirt

THEY SAY THAT IT PAYS TO ADVERTISE. If you are selling cars or pizzas I can certainly agree. However, I’m not sure that this fellow has approached this in the right way.

He is obviously looking to find a young lady to spend some time with. He is lonely. He feels that advertising is a good way to answer his needs. His choice of media might be lacking in mass appeal, but he is trying.

Read more…

Picture Me As “Superfly”

 

LAST WEEK MY WIFE, THE LOVELY AND EVER OBSERVANT, Dawn, and I were driving around town taking care of some errands when she asked me a question that made me go, “Hmmm?”

Her question: “What ever happened to Whitewall tires?”

Indeed.

Read more…

Throwback Thursday from April 2015 – “You Are Not Pizza”

Throwback Thursday from April 2015

 

You Are Not Pizza

 

 

 

Pizza you are not

I WENT TO SEE MY NUTRITIONIST yesterday morning. His task is to help me to change my eating habits, thereby losing weight, thereby lowering my blood pressure, thereby continuing to be alive.

So far so good.

According to him I have lost four pounds since my last visit – and I did so without amputating any body parts or pretending I was a prisoner in a Northern Ireland jail. I have tried to alter my food choices – that means cutting back on pizza and eating more fruits and veggies.

I can do that.

He told me that if I can lose seven more pounds I will officially move from being considered “Obese” into a category labeled “Overweight.” He said the difference is that as an “Overweight” category resident it becomes conjecture about whether my excess weight is fat or muscle. I assured him that it isn’t muscle and hasn’t been for about forty years. After he stopped giggling he gave me that seven pound weight loss as a goal for our next appointment which is set for late July. In essence, he has given me the go-ahead to stay alive for another three months.

I’m jiggy with it.

I didn’t use that phrase with him. Not only is it about ten years passé, but he is also from India and I doubt that he was a “Fresh Prince” fan. With him I just mumbled an “OK.”

Since I started seeing him I have lost about 45 pounds. At first it was easy – “at first” lasting about three weeks. After that it became more difficult. At one point I considered having all of my internal organs removed. My wife discouraged me from doing that saying that “Zsa Zsa Gabor did that and look what happened to her.” I haven’t been able to discover what actually did happen to her, but it probably wasn’t good from the sound of it.

Instead I have lost the weight the old fashioned way: eating lots of fruits and veggies and implementing “Portion Control.” I can now spot a 3 oz. piece of chicken from across the room. I’ve always used potion control but just with different parameters that my Nutritionist has in mind. In one frame of reference half of a large pepperoni pizza is portion control. In a different frame it is – Oh, how shall I say it – NOT!

You can’t make everyone happy.

He asked me the same question my other doctors have asked me lately: “What are you doing for exercise?”

I gave him the same answer I’ve given them: “I stumble.”

You see, when I walk, I honestly have no idea what my left leg is going to do. There have been times when I want to go straight ahead, but my left leg decides on its own to go left. Why? I don’t know. It’s just being rebellious perhaps. Or it does those wacky things in retribution for two early childhood surgeries on the leg. Or maybe it just saw something more interesting off to the left. So, when I walk I do so carefully. Not too fast, not with steps larger than the distance I am prepared to fall face first into the pavement.

I honestly think, along with my wife, the Wonderful and Understanding Rev. Dawn, that I get most of my exercise pushing the shopping cart up and down the aisles at the Kroger store. I can put in some mileage there depending on how long the shopping list is that day. And the cart offers support and something to hold onto in case “Lefty” decides to wander off.

Ergo!

I chalk up yesterday’s trip to see the Nutritionist a success. He was happy. I was happy. My wife was happy. And remember:

You can’t make everyone happy. You are not pizza.

“Tranquilizer Darts in Aisle Seven”

I LIVED IN CLEVELAND, OHIO FOR THIRTEEN YEARS, Most of the time I liked it. How could you not like a city that could have a dozen live theaters going on any weekend? Or a city that had a store called “Lottie’s Delicatessen and Bridal Shop?” Or a city that provided the setting for the classic film “Howard the Duck?” Well, one out of three ain’t very good, but it’s better than Newark.

From 1965 until 1978 I was a resident of The Forest City. In Summer it was hot, but bearable. In Winter it was cold, snowy, and unbearable. It was the winter of 1977-78 that had me packing my bags and heading to California.

I’ve only been back once since then. I had trouble finding my way around. There were a lot of changes, very few of them for the good.

Read more…

This Can’t Go On

IT IS MONDAY MORNING. I don’t care what the calendar says or on what day of the week you are reading this. It is a Monday morning in my world.

For some reason I feel like I have been dragged behind a bus for the last two days and I don’t know why. I don’t have a cold although it is 28 degrees outside and snowing. I haven’t overexerted myself that’s for sure. I studiously avoid doing that. And I’ve been getting my beauty sleep – two hours in the Rip van Winkle Memorial Chair in front of the TV and about six hours in an actual bed.

Read more…

I Have Made Myself Hungry Again

WHAT CAN I SAY? IT’S A HABIT. IT’S A WEAKNESS. It’s a bagel. A morning is not complete without a bagel. If I don’t have my bagel I feel cheated. I feel depressed. I feel hungry.

Finding a decent bagel in Terre Haute (That’s French for “Pass the cream cheese.”) is not easy. Real, honest to goodness bakeries are hard to find. What most places offer up as bagels are just a half step above hamburger buns and just won’t do. But, as in any time of famine, one gets by with whatever one can find.

I think that you have to be in or within commuting distance of a big city to find a genuine, legitimate, my grandparents came from Eastern Europe, bakery that boils their bagels and is sold out by 9 AM.

Kroger’s don’t cut the Nova Scotia.

Read more…

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: