The Not So Invisible Line

I crossed a line invisible to my ego, but apparently readily seen by others.  It is somewhat of a reverse of the Emperor’s new clothes. 

I live where I live in Memphis not because the apartment is particularly nice, or particularly inexpensive.  I live where I live because it is a half mile from the office and I like the convenience of that.   My grandparents fell upon hard times for a while, and they lived in what was called “the projects” back then.  Basically it was a lot of low income folks crowded together in subsidized housing.  This apartment complex reminds of that place and time.

I came home from work today and there were a bunch of kids playing outside.  This is something nice to see these days when so many kids are inside in front of the TV or video games.  Continue reading “The Not So Invisible Line”

Meatballs and Impounds

Fred was skinny, but then it was the early 70s and everyone was still skinny.  He had long, stringy, black hair that he parted on one side.  Add in some black horn rimmed glasses, well worn jeans and omnipresent jean jacket and you have a reasonable facsimile of Fred.  He came from a fairly well-to-do family, but he was definitely in full blown want-a-be hippie mode. We all were, at least in the crowd with which I ran.

I had just spent a year at the University of Rhode Island, mostly to avoid the Vietnam era draft.  Continue reading “Meatballs and Impounds”

Skinning Rats

It was the fall of 1978,  my son was five years old and my daughter 8.  They were “knee high to a grasshopper” as they say in Arklahoma.  I was attending Central State University, since renamed to the University of Central Oklahoma.  I was majoring in Biology.

Why Biology?  First I had a real love for the science.  Secondly, I had always done well in this branch of the sciences.  I had basically been forced into a business degree program my first year of college and nearly flunked out.  It was a lack of interest and other factors (partying???).  In retrospect I might have better served myself and my family to have gotten my computer science degree at that time rather than the B.S. in Biology.  The punch cards intimidated me, and at time I had doubts about my intellectual capacity.  Dissecting struck me as easier than flow charts. Plus, I’ve made a real study of coming to the fork in the road and taking the wrong tine.

This particular semester I was taking several courses, but Mammalogy 4263 taught by Dr. Caire is of interest here.  Dr. Caire had his M.S. in rats, and his PhD Continue reading “Skinning Rats”

Saturday at the flea market

I was at the local flea market last Saturday.  I would not want to go too often, but to pass the occasional afternoon, it is entertaining. 

First there are the vendors.  They were selling everything from self made crafts to junk imported from China.  At least in the south you can always count on a vendor or two pushing swords, knives, and other assorted marital aids.  This market had a vendor pushing an item that looked like a cross between brass knuckles and a taser. I’m still trying to figure out the swords. It has been a long time since I have heard of anyone dueling Continue reading “Saturday at the flea market”

Michelangelo’s David

david_statue_webI have always enjoyed the statue of David by Michelangelo.  There are a number of reasons for this. First, it is a wonderful expression of human achievement by a master at the top of his game.  The detail is phenomenal and exquisite.  The statue looks like with just slightest of breathes he could come alive and jump down from the pedestal to begin a full human life. 

Besides being a beautiful piece of art, it depicts a beautiful human.  It appears that the granite “DNA” has co-mingled to form the ideal male.  While not gay it is certainly a male body that I appreciate and enjoy observing.

There is also a more mundane reason I like the statue.  The male sexual organ as usually depicted and photographed would make Man-O-War blush with feelings of inadequacies.  As a young man this wonderful statue made me feel “normal”.  Well at least in that one regard.

There is a Jamaican man that works where I do. For the most part he is very understandable, but occasionally his accent and my mish mash of accents makes communication a little less than optimal.  He came around one day asking if I knew the artist Dávid.  Not being entirely sure what he had just said, I asked him if he was talking about Michelangelo’s statute of David.  He looked at me funny for a minute then said, “You mean the one with the small penis?” 

Make room in your stall , Man-O-War,  I’m coming in blushing from head to toe.

Truck Stops

Have you been in a truck stop or Interstate travel center lately? Anymore these places have TVs all over the place, and they are almost always tuned to FOX News. I worry deeply for this country.

Your Curmudgeon story, please

The following comment was posted to this site:

I can’t find a way to send a suggestion, so I’ll post here, since it seems to have the floor at the moment. (Teach me the right way!)

You are not legitimately a Curmudgeon until someone calls you one. You can’t (won’t) assume that title by yourself. We all know this.

But how about a topic where we tell the others who did the deed to each of us and under what circumstances?

Sounds like a wonderful topic for discussion.  Does anyone out there care to share their story of how they came to have the appellation of Curmudgeon?? Continue reading “Your Curmudgeon story, please”

Reverend Joe wipes out a waiter

Recently I was in Orange Beach, by gawd, Alabama on a fishing trip.  After a nice and productive day of offshore fishing we decided to go to a nice restaurant for dinner, seafood of course.  It was a fancy place complete with table clothes and starched napkins.  Over to right of us were several tables pushed to together for what looked like a bachelorette party.  There were about 30 or so pretty women in their early twenties sitting at the tables.

Before the food arrived I needed to go to the bathroom.  As I was walking back I realized one of my table mates was behind me.  The shortest route from the facilities to our table was by this bevy of beautiful southern belles. Continue reading “Reverend Joe wipes out a waiter”

Another reason I don’t remarry

Seen on the back of mini-van

Saw it…
Wanted it…
Threw a fit…
GOT IT!!!
Cowgirl Up