Home of the "Little Known Blogger"
The unsolicited, unreasoned, uninformed, unapologetic opinions of Rev. Joe Dirt
Señora and I went for a short stay a Pere Marquette Lodge to celebrate the February triplet of her birthday, Valentine’s Day and the anniversary of when we met, all happening within five days of each other.
Dr. Frankenstein’s Most Current Operation
For reasons inexplicable, early in this couple’s fiesta I related to Señora a behavior my ex developed late in Continue reading “Just call me Dr. Frankenstein”
yeah I know you did not ask!
As you surely know, the primary sensory input for canines is the sense of smell. Our particular canine, Princess Lily, has the common but troubling habit of rolling in whatever odoriferous substance she can find. This seems to be some sort of bold statement for dogs – here I am, I know you can smell me now.
Of course, this results in Señora giving The Wee Dog frequent baths. Lily tolerates these baths, but just barely. But she is so happy when they are over that she runs around the house crazily for five minutes. Señora being Señora, chases the ecstatic Lily and everyone is having a good time.
Thinking about this other day I came to the conclusion that if our precious little dog was human she would dress in wild, bold, colorful clothes that would generate jokes about needing sunglasses.
Loud smells, loud clothes, all in the same ballpark… smell me, look at me!
And so it goes
I love this picture of Señora. It was taken in 2008 on the occasion of a group of us going skydiving. After jumping out of a semi-good airplane she has been ready for any adventure… including yours truly. What a trooper!
The book, Dictionary of Word Origins by Jordan Almond, magically appeared in the downstairs throne room. Knowing my propensity to read during my regular regal ruminations, knowing my love of words, Señora finding the book at an estate sale, bought it and placed it in the throne room.
This morning I came across the following entry:
Poke bonnet: This bonnet got its name from the fact that the front of it “poked out” far beyond the face. A bonnet that didn’t do so was called a “kiss-me-quick”.
I cannot think of my mother’s mother, my grandmother, who the whole world called Mama Carr, without picturing her wearing her poke bonnet. While she did not wear it on her occasional trips to downtown Checotah, with chickens to care for, a garden to look after and a cow to milk, she was routinely outside, putting on her bonnet if it was the less bit sunny. Surprisingly, when I looked through Continue reading “Mama Carr’s Poke Bonnet”
yeah I know you did not ask!
I wonder if at the various universities and colleges that teach Internet technologies if there are special writing classes, perhaps in the Marketing Department under Internet.
There seems to a certain, very common style of article on many websites. There is a teaser headline that grabs your attention, so you open the article. You then start reading or perhaps scanning to through the article to find the tidbit that attracted you, but it is not readily apparent. So you scroll, and scroll some more trying to find it. As you do so you go past one advertisement after another. If you are exceedingly lucky you find the tidbit towards the end of the article, but it frequently has an O. Henry twist to it. Not uncommonly, however, there is nothing in article that relates to the teaser.
It is amazing what we humans are willing to do to other humans in the endeavor to extract money from them.
And so it should not go.
In my Spanish class this morning we were practicing the grammatical structure used in Spanish when talking about hypothetical situations. My teacher kept pushing me for more examples, and I was struggling to come with some after the first rush of inspiration. So I made up one about growing horns and chasing Señora around the house…thinking I was talking about being a bit randy (or horny, if you prefer) which, lamentably, is occasionally hypothetical as I continue this head long rush of aging.
“Oh Señor, I am so sorry,” my teacher said to me. Apparently in Mexico and probably other Hispanic countries when they say a man has grown horns it means his woman is running around on him behind his back aka he is being cuckolded. But it can apply to the woman too. He showed me a painting by the Mexican artist, Frida Kahlo, of herself, as a deer, with a huge rack of antlers and her body pierced by many arrows. Her husband, the Mexican muralist, Diego Rivera, was famously a less than faithful spouse.
Vive les différences culturelles.
It probably says more about my naivety than anything else, but I did not discover that there was such a thing as anti-Semitism, prejudice against Jews, until I was a freshman in college. That year the entering freshman class at the University of Rhode Island was huge, and in the economy dormitories they were housing three students in rooms meant for two. In mine, besides myself, there was Continue reading “Saint Augustine and Anti-Semitism”
I have started working with a new iTalki.com teacher on my Spanish language learning journey, a young accordion player – accordions being prominent in Mexican music – from Guadalajara, Mexico. He has a Masters in French, but teaches Spanish online as there is more demand for it and he can charge more. Besides Spanish and French, he also speaks some Italian and wee bit of Arabic. While he speaks English, he does not list it on his iTalki profile as he is after more advanced students. As he said to me, he does not want to be someone’s dictionary. I know he lived in Chicago for a while, actually not too far from Barrington. However, given the size of the Hispanic community in the Chicago area, it would be very possible to live there and only speak Spanish.
The other day for some reason he asked me what I thought of my Spanish. Being the wise ass that I am I used the line I use with waiters in Mexican restaurants, hablo español como un perro negro, I speak Spanish like a black dog. It never fails to elicit a laugh from a waiter. I went on to say, in Spanish, that I speak a very Gringo type of Spanish, and I wish I was more fluid than I am.
His reply to me was, “I just wish my English was as good as your Spanish.” Of course, I have never conversed with him in English to know the level of his English skills but nevertheless I am going to take it as a compliment.
And so it goes.
If you are of my generation or older you remember the day President John F. Kennedy was shot, 22 November 1963. I was in 6th grade at an elementary school in Toms River, New Jersey. It was the first time in my educational career that I had had a male teacher. He was a very tall, skinny man who I remember mainly because he was male and his reaction to the Kennedy news. When they announced over the loudspeaker that the President had been assassinated, this man cried. However, when I raised my hand after Continue reading “Reconsidering JFK – A Wondrium Course”
yeah I know you did not ask!
I was doing yoga style stretches before launching into more vigorous, traditional exercises in our basement gymnasium area. As I was doing so my various joints were snapping,cracking and popping so loudly and so often that I thought I was consuming a bowl of Rice Krispies.