Sunday, January 3, 2010

TOP TEN: 2010!







Fellow Villagers:

Remember when we used to belly-laugh at David Letterman's Top Ten List before we got too old to stay up that late and before his recent scoundrel escapade with sorted staff members? And how 'bout that Tiger Woods! Nine wasn't enough, so he played somewhere close to eighteen holes! (Decorum prevents me from the obvious punchline). Sponsors droppin' like flies; perhaps he can pick a new sponsor: Tiagra! Perhaps Mr. Woods could find opportunity in China, it, after all, is ,the Year of the Tiger over there. Although, I think it would be wise for him to avoid restaurants, Chinese or otherwise. Maybe we should send the soon-to-be former Mrs. Woods to DC and make her the Czar of Pig Patrol. She could speak softly and carry a driver to help eradicate pigs!

And ladies, who among us can ever erase the indelible tattoo of Bo Derek jogging near naked, in slow motion, on the beach in the movie "TEN" that sticks in our husbands' minds. What was up with those hair beads and feathers and Ravel's Bolero? Hollywood created the feeling of instant inadequacy in us regular girls with that flick!

Then there was that once famous country music star, David Allen Coe, a renegade and round-about known for very rowdy concerts, who sung to sold out crowds and lamented he once was so mad he "could eat a Ten penny nail and spit out a barbed wire fence". I remember nearly being arrested at one of his concerts in North Carolina because I needed to visit the bathroom and dared to try to walk up the aisle during the performance. My friend and I were escorted back to our seats and told to stay there until the concert ended. The badges on the sheriffs glistened in the bank of the stage lights, so we crossed our legs, tightly, and toughed it out. Our back teeth were about to float, but we made it without incident and eventually got back home to our scholastic residence in Virginia.

The TEN Commandments! Poor ol' Charlton Heston, wherever his soul resides, must be grateful that Alzheimer's claimed his memory and his life so even if he did witness all this hullabaloo over displaying the TEN Commandments, he wouldn't remember it. 'Course, if you grew up like me, you know we had the TEN Commandments memorized by First grade and occasionally abandoned one or two of them in the TENTH grade. (Yes, I went to prep school and even college(s). Just didn't get that TEN Commandments thing nailed back down until a few bumps and spills later.) At the Mount Calvary Baptist Church, where my dear departed nanny attended every Sunday with a big, loud hat, they used to say,"Now, Child, Remember, 'Moses Knowses' and he's good friends with God!". Used to scare the daylights out of us young, white kids. Oh, in case you forgot, the TENTH Commandment forbidds coveting your neighbor's house, wife, male servant, female servant, ox, donkey, new carpeting, lawn mower, BBQ pit, potholders, secret family recipes, health insurance and so forth. In short, don't leer wantingly at anything you don't have. Could be important as many are already doing with less than others.

Be glad your babies came out with all TEN toes and TEN fingers. And nevermind that awful chainsaw accident, at least they started out in tact.

The TENTH state to join the Union was Vermont. The TENTH President of The United States was William Henry Harrison. The TEN dollar bill features Alexander Hamilton. Next time you need to break a twenty, ask for two Lincolns and a Hamilton and watch the confused expression on your young, pubescent server's face.

And now today, in 2010 what's even scarier is the battle over our Constitutional rights. Of particular note, the TENTH Amendment, which declares that:

“The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people”.

With over 30 States affirming their rights under the 10th Amendment, the original intent of which was to limit the size and power of the Federal government (AKA Feral Guvmint), a showdown is brewing between the Fed and the States and the People. While a few “Rino” scallywags debate whether it is constitutional for one State, Nebraska via Senator Nelson, to receive a disproportionate “share” of the Feral Guvmint’s “largesse”, AKA taxpayer debt, a much broader question looms large!

Does the Feral Guvmint have the authority to force sovereign citizens to buy anything but of immediate great importance, health insurance?

From the August Senator’s website biography it states:

“As a young man at the University of Nebraska - Lincoln, Ben Nelson spent his Sundays serving as a lay minister to rural Nebraska congregations. Foreshadowing his future in public service, Nelson chose law school over the ministry. He earned a bachelor’s degree in 1963, a master’s degree in 1965 and a law degree from the University of Nebraska in 1970.

Following his time as a student, Nelson enjoyed a successful career in insurance law. He served as CEO of the Central National Insurance Group, as chief of staff and executive vice president of the National Association of Insurance Commissioners, and as director of the Nebraska Department of Insurance.”


Now that’s where the rubber meets the road, another attorney turned “Law-Maker” representing the insurance cartel plucking the low hanging fruit of political cronyism. Maybe just another case of political “Pigs get fat, hogs get slaughtered”.

Any wonder why we are seeing more bumper stickers advocating Secession messages in plain view of the apparent rapid elimination of our rights? Think about it.

Honestly, I am happy to wave goodbye to 2009. It was not a good year on many levels, both personally and nationally. But I have high hopes for 2010. It may get worse before it gets better but at least we know what we're made of and can pull through. 2009 was about bad luck and mistaken ideals. Think about ol' Moses and everything he endured! He treked up the mountain for that stone tablet and then dropped it. Who knows, maybe there were thirteen Commandments and they were edited out! He survived that bizarre Burning 'Bush' thing, (so did we), His staff turned into a snake, (Hello Congress!) and he had to deal with that terrible Red Sea. Is it safe to say we can hear the waves of our own Red Sea in the not-too-distant future? Tune up your Jet-Ski friends, its gonna be a bumpy ride!

Perhaps Obama was unintentionally right. We do need CHANGE, and not the Lincoln or Hamilton kind, sadly that is becoming almost worthless as well. It is my personal view that his call for "change we can believe in" may come back to bite him, in the end, so to speak, because many folks indeed want things to change, but believe it will have to start with a deep house cleaning project/movement in Washington, DC. and a stiff drink with the backbone of our Constitutional rights.

So, here's to you all. Have a Happy New Year! Be safe and sound. Love your family and remember your neighbors, you never know when we might need each other. And if you find yourself frustrated, red-faced and angry and out of patience with the whole thing, do as my Treasured Mother says," Sit down and count to TEN". Keep your ears to the ground. The 10th Amendment is rumored to be the Big Issue in 2010 and the rumbling has already begun, particularly if that lawsuit goes foward in South Carolina.

Ugh! my Treasured Mother is right! I gotta sit down and count to 10! I inTENdto stay positive.

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Sunday, December 6, 2009

Santa Claus is Comin' to Town!






Dear Fellow Villagers:

Well, we barely gulped down the last of the left-over Thanksgiving turkey sandwiches, when we became urgently aware that the Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanza/Ubangi Stomp/Rahmadan/Merry Merry Mistletoe and all that is in full swing! I, myself, fell into the hypnotic, holiday haze and, within a blink of an eye, I brought home a wonderful Noble Fir Christmas Tree, lit it, decorated it and basked in its beauty.

And then, as if scripted by Holly-wood, the snow came and the pastures were covered in white...(mostly sleet really, but that's a minor detail). NO GLOBAL WARMING in my immediate view.

Our wonderful Main Street in Our Beautiful Village, is adorned with wreaths and bows and you can catch the glimmer of Christmas tree lights through the windows of the houses as you drive by. You can sense the anticipation in the eyes of the children, curious and excited over what Santa will bring this year. (In some cases, if anything...).

Even if Santa does arrive, no need to be fast asleep as he comes down the chimney. You won't recognize him. As I am told, he will arrive, sporting some beach shorts and tank top. Oh, and that big, fluffy, white beard, gone. Just too hot! Ya might not want to stand in line for your little ones to sit on his lap this year because he's gonna be all sweaty and probably not smell too good. And really, why traumatize any child to sit on Ol' St. Nick's hairy legs! All this GLOBAL WARMING has altered the North pole and Christmas as we know it may well be in jeopardy, on many levels.

First off, I hear tell Santa availed himself to the Cash for Clunkers deal and swapped out the old sleigh for a new SUV; (Santa's Ultimate Vehicle). No ice, no sleigh. The reindeer are out to pasture, hoping for a bail-out. Even Rudolph's nose has gone "green". Isn't there a Czar out there somewhere that can turn this thing around? Poor old Bing Crosby must be twisting in his grave at the thought of his eternal treasure of a Christmas song being changed into "I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas"!

Just who do we think we are that we can question the forces of nature, let alone substantially alter them? The planet Earth has been around longer than all of us, except that old man that hit my car, and it seems to have taken care of itself without help. I don't recycle and waste my time with bottles and cans and paper; that's what dumpster divers are for. Besides, if I were going to recycle, it would involve a plastic surgeon and anesthesia.

Well, I suppose I have sufficiently stuffed my stocking with enough cynicism for now. I'm going to go back and stare at my Noble fir, have some hot chocolate and pet my Dawg.

Have a wonderful Holiday season! And even though they say we are afflicted with Global Warming, where I come from, you can leave your hat on!

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Monday, November 16, 2009

FINGER LICKIN' GOOD:





Now, I've been around a while. I've seen things I can't even begin to describe. But here now, I am flat out struck back and am truly considering that the collective insanity going on is my cue to exit.




EXHIBIT 1: There is actually a movement to re-invent the dinosaurs, by way of the supposed genetic creatures, found through DNA, with chickens.

First off, we are a Village of People Respecting Chickens. I would prefer that they not be scientifically morphed into Dinosaurs. Imagine the horror of the sweet Main Street Chickens, for which we all paused as they crossed, turned into repro-dinos! Not Happy!

They say they can alter the chicken gene to avail them to larger claws and a substantial tail; larger teeth and a most unpleasant nature. Talk about FOWL PLAY!

Not to put too fine a point on it, but might we consider:

Are these DYNO-MITE Chickens/Dinosaurs gonna eat us and our little pets, or can we get creative and figure out how to BBQ these queer beasts.

Think of the crossing signs on Main Street; CAUTION: DYNO-CHICKEN CROSSING. And God help the poor soul hired to feed these creatures. You'll have to search far and wide to find a Vet to tend these beasts. What if they multiply? Who will risk their life to neuter such a creature?

This is a mistake. And folks need to stop monkeyin' around with this kind of thing.

What's next? Bringing the dead back to life? No.

Let sleeping Dinosaurs lie. And leave those poor chickens alone. It's like " Here Chicky -Chicky, Come meet Herman, your Monster, He's gonna change your life!"

I'm square out going vegetarian.

Enough.

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Tuesday, October 27, 2009

SPOOKED!





"Knock,Knock!" "Who's there?" "Boo!"... "Boo who?"... "Oh quit cryin' or I'm not playing this game anymore!"

Well, FELLOW VILLAGERS:

The time is nigh. Halloween is upon us and folks are figurin' out what to wear to the costume party. So, in the "spirit" of the season, might we bow and recall that on this occasion, it is 70 years ago that our beloved CHAPPELL HILL CAFE came to be and has provided our LOVELY VILLAGE with cheerful smiles, good food and the small town barometer of who's good and who's bad! If ever in doubt, "Are you a Good Witch or a Bad Witch?" take a seat at 70 our beloved CHAPPELL HILL CAFE and you will soon know. It will be apparent by the temperature of your coffee and how high the waitresses have arched their backs.

Now, I'm informed that 70 our beloved CHAPPELL HILL CAFE ,is, in fact, HAUNTED! A ghost's movements are captured in a framed picture that is hung on a wall of the Cafe wandering the restaurant. A friendly ghost, called "Floyd", fondly so it would seem, making sure Mikey was tending the books properly and keepin' customers satisfied. Meanwhile Floyd's keepin' the waitresses somewhat nervous. Our DEAR FRIEND EMILY (AKA Sissy) has made peace with this phantom and they have come to an understanding as to the mutual beneficial interest in the continuing success of the Cafe and marking Big Mike's behavior.

When all this came to light last Sunday after church, our collective souls proportionally saved, all things considered, the scutter began.

"Pass the salt, and we need more butter" could be heard around the nearby tables as the tales were told. Turns out, there are more than a few haunted places in OUR LOVELY VILLAGE. Eyes began to dart downwards and people were speaking in whisper. Some claim to have video surveillance tape of a ghost haunting a well known bank, and a house of fine repute, graced with TLC and refinement but sports a ghost.

I can't blame the dead. I love it here in our Lovely Village Respecting Chickens. We have more churches per capita than most towns and no shortage of cemeteries. Fertile grounds for those who prefer sheets to a pair of Wranglers. If I were a ghost, rather than a ghost writer, I'd stick around and would dang sure be rattling chains in somebody's attic. I even wrote, as a ghost writer, for a time for two retired OSHA attorneys with several publications including Chain Link Fence Monthly. It took every bit of my creativity to make that subject interesting. You could say I was the "GHOSTESS WITH THE MOSTESS".

There's a difference between being haunted and hosting a ghost. One just follows you around and the other makes you crazy for your Dirty Deeds. Either way, its a ghost and you have to come to terms with your own special spector. Its not enough to throw a white sheet over it and call it Casper.

Stop in at the CHAPPELL HILL CAFE next time your around; say hello to Sissy, Sandra and Kathy and tip your hat to "Floyd". As long as he's around, nobody will be spittin' in your tea, least not out loud! And he's keepin' Mike in line, maybe even a straight one on occasion. Emily has a friend in poor old Floyd and in spite of claims of the "super"-"natural", she is loved by all.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO CHAPPELL HILL CAFE! 70 YEARS AND STILL GOIN'!

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Saturday, October 24, 2009

SOY SAUCE!!! Mao Tse Tung-in-Cheek


FELLOW VILLAGERS:

A few days ago I contacted MY DEAR HUSBAND just before he embarked on his journey home from the wilds of the work force and nearly frightened him with those dreaded words, "Hey! I've got an idea!"

I had this intense craving for Chinese food, real Chinese food, of which Our Lovely Village is glaringly without. Pot stickers!, Fried Rice!, Kung Pao Chicken! Spicy Orange Beef! Egg Rolls! Hot and Sour Soup! Won Tons! YUM! So, panting and salivating like a pregnant woman in dire need of pickles and pistachio ice cream, I prevailed upon him to bring home some Chinese take-out. I anxiously honed and whittled our chopsticks in anticipation of the taste and aroma. Checking to make sure we had plenty of Soy Sauce, it occured to me; Yeah, Perfect! The old Robbies could be a Chinese food restaurant! Surely, "Sum Yung Guy" could make a go of it and Hey! They could even "Wok Around the Block" for delivery to us Villagers who've been deprived of the Asian fare. It seems almost fool proof!

As we casually dined on our Chinese take-out, our momentary bliss was blown by the stunning appearance on television of Anita Dunn, the 'acting' Chief White House Communications Advisor giving an address at some sort of commencement. Now I will tell you that its just darn near impossible to get between me and my pot stickers. In fact, I love them so much MY DEAR HUSBAND and I once lured the children to our favorite Chinese haunt and we challenged them to see who could eat the most of them. Great fun! The jury is still out on who actually won, depending on who you ask.

But on this night, as we watched Anita Dunn drooling over her favorite philosophers, Mao and Mother Theresa, I must confess, I dropped my dumpling. ( much to the delight of my beloved Dawg).

First off, that is, at the very least, a really weird combination. I doubt there's a Chinese restaurant, or any other for that matter, hawking such a combo platter. Lemme see; okay, first we torture them, kill off the ones we can and then minister to them and tell them God loves them and they are precious creatures. Ms. Dunn is, shall we say, confused, at best. But because her idiocy cost me a dumpling, I am thinking more along the lines of a psychological disorder. Not only what she said was strange but her delivery was suspicious. Talk about "Take-Out"!

Now we learn that Our Fearless Leader and Champion of Change will soon be heading to Asia. There is a fierce debate over what type of souvenir there will be for this trip. Talk swirling about Mao-Bama T-shirts and posters of Obama in a communist uniform. I suppose the possibilities are endless and a few folks will most likely make a few bucks on the whole thing. But if you come across a T-shirt that suits you just right, check the tag and see if it says Made in China, it might sway your decision.

As far as the idea for a Chinese Food Restaurant at the old Robbies site, I still think it could work. They'll have to get creative with the menu..."The Mao-Bama Special", "The Mao/Mother Deluxe", "Socialism Soup with a Side of Tender Theresa". And at the end of your meal, they could provide the complimentary "Mis-Fortune" cookies.

I can't wait! But then I grew up in town where some of the best BBQ was found at a joint called Gingus Khan BBQ. No kidding. I think its still there.

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Thursday, October 8, 2009

WHITE-WASH



Recently, my DEAR HUSBAND and I had our humble abode repainted. A nice, fresh coat of white paint, It really spruced the place up...a relatively inexpensive improvement with a simple case of white washing.

Speaking of improvements, hats off to the new owners of the former Wichita House on Main Street. A really nice job! The rest of us VILLAGERS are hoping for an Open House soon, crested jacket required of course to visit House of Im! (Just kidding!) Besides, I checked with JC Penny, Palaise Royal and even Wal-Mart in our friendly, nearby town of Brenham and there apparently has been a run on those jackets.They were all out.

I suspect there are quite a few health care providers, pharmacists, doctors, PA's, LVN's and so on who must be finding themselves a little short on Lab Coats, given the boundless yet insulting latest effort by Our Fearless Champion of CHANGE providing Dr.'s Lab Coats to any and all attending the press conference on the Sacred Lawn in our Nation's Capital in support of Obama-Care.

This man has no shame and an unprecendented kind of arrogance thinking we could be fooled by this stunt. First off, he was flanked by two Docs in lab coats who are known to be among his largest campaign contributors. Over the top obvious in my view. Might he have considered spreading his "message" by giving out free flu shots instead? I mean, we're All For One and One For All!, right? It reminds me of when your friends or family go to some dream vacation spot and were thoughtful enough to bring you a souvenir T-shirt. Imagine its slogan: "ShakIraqADillyac went to the Press Conference for Obama-Care and all I got was a lousy lab coat".

See, now I'm feeling confused. Is it the Green House or the White House? Or are we supposed to wear a (lab)coat of many colors and try to blend in. Maybe its my bent mind, but I'm watching the coverage of this press conference and I see Mr. Obama, head held high in what seemed too close to a sea of white lab coats; KKK's minus the hoods and burning stakes. "Come on in folks! Get your free lab coat, right here! Lab coats for Lab Rats!" Of course, based on recent revelations regarding the Czarahhrea in the not-so-white house, reviewing the white jackets abounding near the rose garden, there doesn't appear to be a "straight jacket" in the bunch.

My father practiced real medicine for 55 years; often it cost him more to treat his patients than he could earn due to the Guvmint medalling in health-care. He never minded, he often accepted a crate of home grown grapefruit or tomatoes or something else that came off the patient's farm. Instead of Pro-duce, today, he might be offered an iPod loaded with "Rap Sheeets" or something. I can feel him spinning in his grave.

Some of you might remember the old TV commercial for cold medicine or aspirin or something featuring a nice looking actor, popular at the time, and he opens the ad by saying, "I'm not a doctor, but I play one on TV". Might've been Marcus Welby or something, but I'll go no further as to avoid dating myself other than to speak longingly towards stethoscopes, of all colors.

White paint should be reserved for picket fences and old houses, not for walk-ins on the D.C. set. I have to believe this will all come out in "the wash" in time. Then we can concentrate on stain removal.

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Saturday, October 3, 2009

AS THE CROW FLIES


As a child, I can remember being afraid of certain things, mostly imaginary and did not actually reside beneath the bed or lurk within the closet.

As I aged, ungracefully I might add, I found a new fear. CROWS-FEET! Those little lines around the eyes that tell the tale of not only your years but your experience. Some call them wisdom lines, others call them laugh lines...well-earned.

Thankfully, we, in our MOST LOVELY VILLAGE Respecting Chickens, have an annual opportunity to celebrate and enjoy THE SCARECROW FESTIVAL!

How happy to see the Scarecrows stuffed and propped along Main Street in anticipation and welcome for visitors; Vendors hawking their wares and goods, folks milling about, enjoying the advent of Autumn.

However, amongst our celebration and joy of our ScareCrow Festival...Might we remember that the ScareCrow is intended to 'SHOOOO' the black crows that seek to pillage the seeds gracious farmers have sown for another year's harvest. Thus, the necessity of the SCARECROW. The Scarecrow's job was to ward off the invasion of crops by black birds. Adorned in old and colorful clothing, stuffed with hay, propped and poised to stand vigilant against these errant fowls. Our dear departed friend, Alfred Hitchcock, can remind us all of "birds pissed off".

One must wonder, how our latest "Regulatory" Czar with a faux fur Disneyesque animal rights agenda will reconcile this issue while advocating all animals must have the right to an attorney and representation in cases of alleged abuse and horrifically, the opportunity to defend and defy euthanasia. Without opposable thumbs, how will these blessed creatures be able to invoke their right to one phone call? For that matter, lacking the funds to travel to court they even lack the requisite limb to hitchhike their way to the halls of justice. Only to be tarred and feathered.

And if required to testify, will these poor creatures be tied to an interpretor that might just collapse claiming ,"I can't take it (fake it) anymore!" What will we do if we need to provide 'End of Life' Counseling in Barkology or Meowism? Further, will the sufferers of a "simian cleft" be denied treatment for reasons of genus or species?

Finally, there remains the question whether a Village Respecting Chickens can coexist with scardy crows or will there only be room for one rooster in the new regulatory regime? Just exactly who is the cock of the walk?

Make no mistake, I love the SCARECROW FESTIVAL!!! And
I intend to be there with bells on! Come along and enjoy! These wonderful Fall days are fleeting and we need to notice its visitation. See Ya There!


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