Category: Trials and Tribulations

Whatcha think, Joe was perfect?

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Dissed by a Little Rascal

In the early 70’s my father’s job took him overseas again.  My mother and my three youngest siblings went with him.  ShirleyJeanRickert2This left me living alone in Rhode Island.  A fourth brother was living in Oklahoma.  My cousin’s husband had recently graduated college with an art degree.   He found work in a regional theatre company in Springfield, MA.  Being Okies (less in my case, more in her case) and relatives living in the East we would visited occasionally.

Her husband Steve worked as a set designer for the theatre.  Also at the theatre was a former member of the comedic series Our Gang (also known as The Little Rascals), Shirley Jean Rickert.  She worked as the theatre’s secretary, and she would occasionally act.

One of my visits was just after successfully opening of a new play.  Someone was putting on a party for the production crew.  My cousins dragged me along to this party.  I say drag as I am still not much on parties, and at that point in my life I was painfully shy.  Ms. Rickert was there. Continue reading “Dissed by a Little Rascal”

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Banks, Breasts, Bamboozled

I quit Bank of America a while back as I decided I did not want to do business with them.  I have major problems with their business practices.  So I switched to Regions.  Now they have started charging customers for the use debit cards.  I decided to quit them and open up an account with the company credit union.  Dollars are votes after all.

To effectuate the change I went to the credit union branch just across from my office.  The branch manager is a young woman of maybe 30 years.  She invites me into her office to do the necessaries involved in opening up a new account.  She was an attractive enough young lady, but no knock out.  She was however wearing a top with a very low scoop neck and some sort of brassiere that barely covered her nipples.  I personally do not find this appropriate business wear, but maybe that is just me.  Just sitting talking to her I was getting an eyeful even though part of me was trying not to look.  She was seated at a rather large desk. Every time she leaned forward to have me sign Continue reading “Banks, Breasts, Bamboozled”

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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”

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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”

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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”

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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”

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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.

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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.

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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”