"If that water's supposed to be 'non-potable,' why do they carry it around on the back of a big truck?" - Local rube.---
A customer came into the store wherein I am employed and bought a bit more than two dozen postcards. Then, said customer shunned the idea that I would put their purchase in a paper bag -
"We have to save the trees."
Life in the Ancient City
I am hoping, as I grow older in years, that I become wiser with age. I also hope that I will continue to keep abreast of what goes on in the world at large. I mention this because, living in the town in which I do - I find that we have a number of "old" folks whom continue to live within the values and beliefs that were commonplace at the year of their birth.
I was recently asked, point blank, and with no hesitation on behalf of the asker:
"What is it that the black people call themselves now?"
This from a person whose Rolodex of recent cultural touchstones end at Vanna White and 'Lifestyles Of The Rich And Famous'
(For the record, my answer was "Uh, people.")
I was also witness to the sad, yet comically uncanny, timing of satellite radio programming immediately upon the outcome of the following event:
An extremely aged person I know recently had a medical procedure. The aftermath of the procedure was facilitated by pain relievers, which, while they may have decreased some osteopathic inflamation - did nothing to affect the loss of memory and functionality in this particular person of well-worn lifespan. A person who prides themselves on their independence and self-supervision, despite their advanced and obviously declining years.
Due to the onset of non-premature ageing, my acquaintance made a mathematical error - not realizing her misfortune until about a half hour after the fact, when the mistake was pointed out by another party.
She was thrown. Not by the mistake itself - that was pushed aside with a "fiddle dee dee," or some other antiquated expression - but rather, by the cause. I could see her face start to wither as she took into account that her senility itself had created an issue; she was, at that very moment, beginning to realize that she was indeed growing old.
A sad, reflective moment to be certain. I felt a bit awkward then, when I silently guffawed at the song-list which permeated the airwaves;
The Beatles "Eleanor Rigby"
followed directly by
The Rolling Stones "Mother's Little Helper"
Three Dog Night's "One (is the loneliest number)."
Radio: Bringing Light-Hearted Humor to Life's Interesting Moments Since 1906.
A Poem(for the life of me I can't think of a decent title...)
Cute girls on skateboards, in my neighborhood.
An old man on a walk - I'd look away if I could.
Yet, they carve trails right toward me,
('cause they're up to no good).
Those cute girls on skateboards, in my neighborhood.
Those cute girls on skateboards, in my neighborhood,
can't roll past my house - the road is all mud.
But, if the ole guv'ment would pay for some pavement,
then perhaps kindly angels would...
send more cute girls on skateboards through my neighborhood.
The Ghost Of Semantics Strikes Again
Y'know, there's not a heck of a lot of difference between the phrases
"Koo Koo Katchoo" and "Goo Goo G'Joob."
My bet is that Mrs. Robinson was the Walrus this entire time.
The Dispatch From Escalatorville
Z.F. Lively, Proprietor/Escalator Excavator
firstname.lastname@example.org for misheard lyrics and such.