Tag: Culture

Your decomposing pumpkin could threaten mankind

This weekend, watch for falling pumpkins.

I left the house this morning and made an important realization: What I had assumed was a fleece-lined, bright orange sweatshirt laying crumpled on the front steps was actually NOT a garment at all.

It was our jack-o-lantern.

This realization was made while attempting to pick it up. Though my intention was to give my children a stern lecture on taking care of their clothing, I decided instead to scream uncontrollably after grabbing a handful of pumpkin mucus. Somehow, our pumpkin’s aging process had accelerated, causing it to collapse in on itself and sprout white fur — literally — overnight.

This isn’t an isolated incident. Anyone who hasn’t disposed of their jack-o-lantern by now has witnessed this process, which we can all agree defies the natural laws of physics. One morning, your pumpkin’s face is triangle-eyed and gap-toothed as normal. The next morning, it is Buddy Hackett. Continue reading Your decomposing pumpkin could threaten mankind

Please accept my preemptive apology in advance beforehand

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As the intensity of “Performance of the Year” competition at The Public Blogger increases, I’d like to apologize for some things, beginning with how infrequent my visits to other people’s blogs, websites and Facebook pages has been lately. I have a running list of posts saved to my email that keeps growing — Mollytopia, The Hook, Ross Murray, Rouged Mount, Lizzi, Rarasuar, Hasty Words, List of X, Miz Yank, She’s a Maineiac, Lipstick and Laundry, The Sisterwives, to name a few. I am looking forward to the day in a few weeks when I can sit back and spend an entire day catching up on my drinking reading all of the posts I have saved to savor later. I just wanted you to know that I’m well aware of what I’m missing, and that my absense is not an indication of disinterest or an elitist attitude.

Simply put: I’m just getting my butt kicked. Continue reading Please accept my preemptive apology in advance beforehand

I plan to give Robert Goldstein a firm handshake some day

image Handshakes are important because they tell me a lot about a person. In all my years, I’ve never been disappointed by anyone who has given a firm, enthusiastic handshake (not counting election years.) My father told me never trust someone who doesn’t offer their hand, or if the hand they offer is limp or unengaged.

“Either way, chances are they aren’t the kind of person you can trust with an agreement or respect in a disagreement.”

In the blogging world, we rarely get the chance to shake hands in person. We do it with our words — in what we say in our posts, what we share, how we comment and reply. And though I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of shaking the hand of Robert Goldstein, I’m certain it would be the kind my father would approve of and respect. Until a couple of weeks ago, Robert was a fellow nominee for Performance of the Year in The Public Blogger’s “A Star is Born” competition. He was one of the first nominees I gravitated to because, in addition to his talent as an artist and writer, it was immediately clear that he was a man with a firm grasp on many of the virtues I respect. He is a humanitarian at heart, constantly offering insightful pieces and perspectives on what it means to be human — and how to stay that way in a world that often seems to challenge that notion. Continue reading I plan to give Robert Goldstein a firm handshake some day

That time I should’ve called for back-up when talking turkey

During this morning’s editorial meeting, I was once again given the assignment of visiting a local turkey farm to write up a special Thanksgiving piece. If it goes anything like last year’s visit, “special” isn’t really the right word. [Cue gauzy dream sequence and harp music]…

image Over the weekend, I was the victim of an unprovoked and extremely frightening turkey attack. In my defense, there were five of them (technically known as a “gang” of turkeys) involved in the assault, which started because of my proximity to a preening female turkey, which had apparently snubbed her suitors in favor of me.

Possibly because she was confused by my chicken legs.

Whatever the reason, the male turkeys didn’t take well to this and decided the best way to handle the situation was to join forces and, one by one, take turns flapping their giant wings at my [censored]. Before I knew it, I was being circled by an agitated turkey gang and wishing my editor had assigned me to something less dangerous, like covering a Blind Axe Throwers convention. Continue reading That time I should’ve called for back-up when talking turkey

Saving the world could come down to a good paint job

(I’m over at Long Awkward Pause today, just trying to save the world from annihilation…)

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Scientists and Hollywood can agree on one thing: It’s only a matter of time before the Earth is destroyed. Most likely by an asteroid. Possibly as early as this evening. That’s because scientists at the PanSTARRS observatory in Hawaii tell us astroid TB145 will have a near-miss with the Earth tonight around 5:45 p.m. (PST).

The discovery of this asteroid was made from the Panoramic Survey Telescope & Rapid Response System on Oct. 10.

That’s Oct. 10 of THIS MONTH, people!

Thanks for the heads-up, scientists! That’s plenty of time to prepare for the destruction of civilization by organizing survival kits, loading the car and then driving it off the nearest cliff. Scientists assure us that, although “relatively close” to Earth, TB145 is no real threat. Keep in mind these are the same scientists who, using the most sophisticated surveylance system on the planet, overlooked something roughly the size of the Titanic rolling through our solar system. (More at LAP)

Nowadays, the womb is no place for slackers

Unless your baby looks like this, it could be a slacker... Unless your baby looks like this, it could be a slacker…

Parents used to be satisfied with sonogram images of their child developing in the womb, even though, for all we knew, we were actually watching video footage of a school of mackerel on a depth finder.

“And if you look closely, you can see your baby … right … about … whoops! It’s gone. Something must’ve scared it.”

The doctor would then print copies of these images, which we carried in our wallets to share with family, friends, and anyone unfortunate enough to make brief eye contact. At the end of nine months, the only real expectation any of us had for our child was that they come out headfirst. Laughably, we actually felt it was enough for them to grow from a microscopic egg into a full-fledged human child within nine months.

Those babies, of course, were total slackers. Continue reading Nowadays, the womb is no place for slackers

Because sometimes love can overlook a man who drives a mini van

imageNine years ago tonight, I had my first date. I was 40. It’s not that I hadn’t been on other dates in my life. It’s just that, from the very first moment we took each other’s hands, none of the others seemed to matter anymore.

Because nothing compared to this one.

The best one.

The last one I’ll ever want.

Both of us were recently divorced after long, unhappy marriages. We both had two children at home. And both of us had joined a dating website a month earlier within a few days of each other. Fate, it seemed, had already set things into motion. Nine years and one pair of wedding rings later, I’m still thanking fate each and every day…

Oct. 28, 2006:
My search for a red rose after making the hour-long drive to Salem for our first date had put me behind. Coupled with the fact that I hadn’t been on a real date in nearly 20 years, had lost 23 pounds since my divorce several months earlier, and was driving a Plymouth Voyager mini-van, I technically had four strikes against me already. Plus, after several weeks of chatting together on Match.com and long evening phone calls, she had finally posted her profile picture. When I saw it, I realized I wasn’t only in danger of striking out before our date even started:

Heck, I was batting out of my league. Continue reading Because sometimes love can overlook a man who drives a mini van

Scariest part of Halloween? Finding costumes that don’t emotionally scar your kids

image For some of you, Halloween is an exciting time that allows you to bond with your child by making their Halloween-costume dream come true.

For the rest of us, it was a time when we crossed our fingers and prayed that our child’s “Halloween costume dream” was hanging on a rack somewhere at Walmart. Because if it wasn’t, we’d have to make something, and therefore put our child’s emotional health at risk by creating a costume that could potentially scar them for life.

After more than 30 years, I still remember my mother carefully wrapping me in layer after layer of tissue in order to turn me into a frightening replica of The Mummy — and how it took less than five minutes for a light drizzle to turn me into the considerably LESS frightening Soggy Toilet Paper Man. Things weren’t much better the following year, when I dressed-up as a pirate and missed-out on all of the good candy after spending 45 minutes with my plastic hook stuck in the car door. By the time I hit the streets all that was left were Sweet Tarts and half-opened rolls of breath mints. Continue reading Scariest part of Halloween? Finding costumes that don’t emotionally scar your kids

Good news travels fast! Until it reaches my blog, apparently

image It’s been more than five hours since the little graphic to the left appeared on my Facebook page after the final votes and judges’ scores were tabbula tabulei added up for this week’s round of Performance of the Year competition at The Public Blogger.

Why the delay?

I’d like to say it was because, after several margaritas and a donkey  ride (at least I think it was a donkey) in Tijuana, Mexico,  (at least I think it was a Tijuana) in celebration, I passed out in wheel barrow and was being carried back through customs when I was detained for slurring and yelling “Mi esssss Numero UNO, senior Policia!” over an over until I lost my enchiladas on the shoes of a border patrol agent.

I’d like to say that, but the reason for the delay is much less colorful and, admittedly, a lot less forgivable:

I got sidetracked with work on an early deadline after posting the results on my *sigh* Facebook page.

I’m aware that many of you don’t follow Facebook, which is all the more reason I should have made sure to post this hours ago, when Michelle Terry at Lipstick and Laundry commented: “Was that YOU I saw in Mexico?” Continue reading Good news travels fast! Until it reaches my blog, apparently

Where I sit in the current standings… or something like that

image With less than two hours remaining before voting closes in the third round of the Performance of the Year competition at The Public Blogger, I thought I’d share an update on where I am in the rankings — and thank you for keeping me in the top three against some stiff competition. I suppose it’s too late to add a stanza to my poem that reads:

Judges are wonderful,
judges carry our hopes,
if they score me well,
I promise to loosen their ropes.

The judges’ scoring, which accounts for 30% of our total score, hasn’t been included yet. That means, depending on how they score my poem (and judging by their initial scoring, it won’t be much), I could drop me a little further depending on how many more votes roll in before the 10 a.m. deadline.

Either way, I still feel fairly confident I’ll make it through this round somewhere IN THE TOP 7! I say that with ALL-CAPS and an EXCLAMATION point to sound CONFIDENT! Even though, as I write this, I am in a fetal position under my desk…

Just kidding! Ha!Ha! It’s really more like a cannon ball position because my desk is really small. Continue reading Where I sit in the current standings… or something like that