Dear Cat: Me and my old lady split after being together for many moons. I am now on my own-alone again, naturally ( apologies to Gilbert O'Sullivan. ) I am lost in this new world. When I was single "Jaws" was numero uno at the box office; John Travolta and the leisure suit craze had yet to make the scene. Gerald Ford was President and gasoline was 50 cents a gallon. Today, there's a computer-animated horror thriller at the top of the charts-apologies to Dick Clark and/or Casey Kasem; John Travolta is starring as a woman in drag, allah "Hairspray;" George Bush is leaving soon and the likely person to replace him is a woman or a man whose religious beliefs are in doubt; and gas is $3.00 per gallon. In summary, Lucy, What happened?
Signed: I Don't Want To Fade Away
Dear Not Fade Away: Thanks for the query. I have nothing to add, but good luck to you. Because....you will need it. The good news is you will survive, as long as you're not starring in NBC's "To Catch a Predator." Also, there's plenty of fish in the sea. So forget your depression and get out there and mingle. Another suggestion in case you're thinking of offing yourself: You could always write an advice to the lovelorn column, allah yours truly. It will take your mind off your troubles, albeit temporary until the meds kick in. Hope this helps.
Dear Cat: I recently saw "Snakes on a Plane" with Samuel L. Jackson. I thought it was a good show. Do you know if there will be a sequel?
Signed: Samuel L. Jackson Fan.
Dear Sam: He is a good actor. I liked him in "Jurassic Park"; "Pulp Fiction"; and "Shaft." A complicated man, but no one understands him but his woman. I am privy to news about a sequel to your aforementioned query. The working title is aptly entitled: "Drakes on a Plane." A mad scientist unleashes a bevy of ducks on a flight to London. His goal is to crash the plane in order to terminate a man who's turning state's evidence against a major Mafioso figure. It will be rated "R" for "Rowdy."
Dear Cat: I live here in Georgia. It's pouring down rain. Do you believe it's raining all over the world?
Signed: Raining All Over the World?
Dear Raining Down: Yes, it's coming down pretty hard in this l'il sleepy hamlet I call home. You know how people like to rain on your parade? I heard a man tonight say "we're still two inches down for the year." In answer to your query, yes, I believe it's raining all over the world. Apologies to Ray "What'd I Say" Charles.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
"Dear Cat" Foray into the Infantile
Tonight's "Dear Cat" is inspired by an email I just received today from my old friend, Slippery.
Dear Cat: You may remember me. I played trombone in a band on the run. Back at Rowdy High. Your alma mater. I still play today and just finished laying down some vicious riffs. Look for my youtube video where I dazzle the world with Chicago's "Questions 67 and 68." Do you play an instrument?
Signed: Fancy Colours, aka Slippery
Dear Slippery: Yes, I play the trombone, too, and just finished a duet with the same song but stopped at "Question 69." Because it's 25 or 6 to 4, it's time for the answer to your query to end. Perhaps I will see you at the Rowdy High reunion this March.
P.S. And whatever happened to Donald Roberts, he of going to Harvard fame. As I mentioned in my personal email to you, the closest I ever got to Harvard was serving pickled beets via a well-known cafeteria chain.
P.S.S. And whatever happened to Edward Morris? He of the original funkadelic sound before George Thorogood adapted Edward's style. It's oil, er, all good.
Dear Cat: You turned me on to Chicago back in the days of 1969 when we matriculated at Truck U. Or was it Rowdy High? Thanks, dude, for the memories. Remember I played a mean air trombone and air cornet, especially on "Beginnings." Damn, time flies when your havin' fun. Do you remember me? We used to ride around campus in your white vw bug!
Signed: South California Purples!
Dear Mystery Challenger Enter and Sign in Please! Are you the dude who asked if there were any smokeable butts in the ash tray at Payne Hall? Just kidding. How could I forget. Cos you turned me on to smoking cigarettes; jaunts to the wrestling matches to see Butcher Vachon and Lou Thesz and Farmer Powell; and excursions to the downtown soft porn Central Theatre, where we ogled women's breasts via the cinema. How did we get in at 16, when the required age was 21. Must have been those Winstons in the red pack, eh? Thanks for the mammaries and the query. Are you attending the reunion?
Dear Cat: I once visited the Central Theatre. My feet stuck to the floor whilst traversing the aisles to my seat. Do you think it was diet coke that may have been spilled accidentally?
Signed: Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?
Dear What Time It Is: Methinks it wasn't diet coke, because it hadn't yet been invented. Perhaps it was a Birely's Orange or a Red Rock Cola or perhaps a Nehi grape? Who knows? But thanks again for the mammaries, er, memories. My favorie movie seen there was "The Lustful Turk." In glorious [ fancy ] colors, no doubt.
Dear Cat: You may remember me. I played trombone in a band on the run. Back at Rowdy High. Your alma mater. I still play today and just finished laying down some vicious riffs. Look for my youtube video where I dazzle the world with Chicago's "Questions 67 and 68." Do you play an instrument?
Signed: Fancy Colours, aka Slippery
Dear Slippery: Yes, I play the trombone, too, and just finished a duet with the same song but stopped at "Question 69." Because it's 25 or 6 to 4, it's time for the answer to your query to end. Perhaps I will see you at the Rowdy High reunion this March.
P.S. And whatever happened to Donald Roberts, he of going to Harvard fame. As I mentioned in my personal email to you, the closest I ever got to Harvard was serving pickled beets via a well-known cafeteria chain.
P.S.S. And whatever happened to Edward Morris? He of the original funkadelic sound before George Thorogood adapted Edward's style. It's oil, er, all good.
Dear Cat: You turned me on to Chicago back in the days of 1969 when we matriculated at Truck U. Or was it Rowdy High? Thanks, dude, for the memories. Remember I played a mean air trombone and air cornet, especially on "Beginnings." Damn, time flies when your havin' fun. Do you remember me? We used to ride around campus in your white vw bug!
Signed: South California Purples!
Dear Mystery Challenger Enter and Sign in Please! Are you the dude who asked if there were any smokeable butts in the ash tray at Payne Hall? Just kidding. How could I forget. Cos you turned me on to smoking cigarettes; jaunts to the wrestling matches to see Butcher Vachon and Lou Thesz and Farmer Powell; and excursions to the downtown soft porn Central Theatre, where we ogled women's breasts via the cinema. How did we get in at 16, when the required age was 21. Must have been those Winstons in the red pack, eh? Thanks for the mammaries and the query. Are you attending the reunion?
Dear Cat: I once visited the Central Theatre. My feet stuck to the floor whilst traversing the aisles to my seat. Do you think it was diet coke that may have been spilled accidentally?
Signed: Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?
Dear What Time It Is: Methinks it wasn't diet coke, because it hadn't yet been invented. Perhaps it was a Birely's Orange or a Red Rock Cola or perhaps a Nehi grape? Who knows? But thanks again for the mammaries, er, memories. My favorie movie seen there was "The Lustful Turk." In glorious [ fancy ] colors, no doubt.
Monday, January 28, 2008
"Reaction To Last Nite's Foray!"
Because last nite's column was a bit lewd-imagine someone, in this case, Jimmy Buffet of Margarita fame-writing a song entitled: "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw?", tonite's foray will attempt to level the playing field by posting a sweet song from yesteryear. A 180, if you will.
Because Mr. P. [ Mr. Procrastinator ], yours truly, has completed his work assignment, time is avaiable to pen yet another post on Golden Pond. My favorite pasttime by the way, my own little fantasy world.
But....because I have to arise early in the a.m. [ 5 to be exact ] this foray will now cease and desist.
Life is like a beanstalk, isn't it? v.c.
P.S. Rejected song titles included: "Maria" from "The Sound of Music; likewiss, "Climb Every Mountain; and "You Light Up My Life" from the enigmatic Debby Boone. And whatever happened to those white bucks of her daddy, Pat? And, last but not least, "Take This Job and Shove It," from the equally enigmatic Johnny Paycheck.
Because Mr. P. [ Mr. Procrastinator ], yours truly, has completed his work assignment, time is avaiable to pen yet another post on Golden Pond. My favorite pasttime by the way, my own little fantasy world.
But....because I have to arise early in the a.m. [ 5 to be exact ] this foray will now cease and desist.
Life is like a beanstalk, isn't it? v.c.
P.S. Rejected song titles included: "Maria" from "The Sound of Music; likewiss, "Climb Every Mountain; and "You Light Up My Life" from the enigmatic Debby Boone. And whatever happened to those white bucks of her daddy, Pat? And, last but not least, "Take This Job and Shove It," from the equally enigmatic Johnny Paycheck.
"Why Don't We Get Drunk And...."
We all go through this life with one problem after another. If we didn't have them, our lives would be perfect, right. Nah. That's what we all thrive on. Handlin' things. Some of us handle our problems better than others. I may be the poster boy for screwing up. But be it as it may, er, it is what it is, there is often one remedy that can get us out of our many doldrums.
Submitted for your approval is one man's remedy. And one to which I subscribe. Nuff said:
Submitted for your approval is one man's remedy. And one to which I subscribe. Nuff said:
Saturday, January 26, 2008
" I Think I Can"
Apologies go out immediately to the little engine that could.
Tonight my editor suggested another break from writing my column, but I resisted his cease and desist communique.
Now communique is a neat word. You just don't hear it every day.
On a dissimilar vein, it's time to turn out the lights; the party's over.
But before leaving an old tune from "Rubber Soul."
It's only love, v.c.
P.S. Btw. And curse Sir Walter Raleigh; he was such a stupid get.
Tonight my editor suggested another break from writing my column, but I resisted his cease and desist communique.
Now communique is a neat word. You just don't hear it every day.
On a dissimilar vein, it's time to turn out the lights; the party's over.
But before leaving an old tune from "Rubber Soul."
It's only love, v.c.
P.S. Btw. And curse Sir Walter Raleigh; he was such a stupid get.
Friday, January 25, 2008
"The 'Holy Prepuce' Is Missing!"
For those who may have missed it:
Jesus Foreskin Has Gone Missing! - For more than four centuries, the "Holy Prepuce" had been the city's treasure, kept behind bronze doors over the altar in the Church of the Most Holy Name of Jesus. It was displayed every year on Jan. 1, the Feast of the Holy Circumcision. At one time, pilgrims who came to venerate it were rewarded with an indulgence that cut 10 years from their time in purgatory.
I heard this tonight on the radio coming home from work. Neal Boortz show. Didn't even know there was such a thing but evidently, there is. Neal's show was a rerun so it's a somewhat dated story.
P.S. Not sure if it has been found.
Jesus Foreskin Has Gone Missing! - For more than four centuries, the "Holy Prepuce" had been the city's treasure, kept behind bronze doors over the altar in the Church of the Most Holy Name of Jesus. It was displayed every year on Jan. 1, the Feast of the Holy Circumcision. At one time, pilgrims who came to venerate it were rewarded with an indulgence that cut 10 years from their time in purgatory.
I heard this tonight on the radio coming home from work. Neal Boortz show. Didn't even know there was such a thing but evidently, there is. Neal's show was a rerun so it's a somewhat dated story.
P.S. Not sure if it has been found.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
"William Talman"
William Talman made this anti-smoking ad. Circa 1968. He died 6 weeks after filming it. Mr. Talman played Hamilton Burger on "Perry Mason."
The video is courtesy of youtube:
The video is courtesy of youtube:
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
"The Case of the 50's Kinda Guy"
There have been mega hits on "the vast wasteland" since its inception back in the 40's. There was "I Love Lucy"; "All in the Family"; "Dallas"; "Miami Vice;" "Friends;" Seinfeld;" and, currently, "American Idol." But the best, in my humble opinion is none of the above.
My all-time favorite is "Perry Mason." Courtroom drama out the kazoo. With Raymond Burr, as the defense lawyer who never lost a case. Technically, he did lose one. In the beginning of the episode the verdict against his client was "guilty," as reported by the jury. By the end, old Perry had figured it out, and Julie Addams was found not-guilty allah O.J., Baretta, and Phil Spector.
I just got off the phone with my liberal sis who has been bedridden the last few days. Sidelined with the Hong Kong flu or one of its derivatives. How did sis while away the time in her sick bed?
She went to the video store and rented 16 episodes of "Perry Mason." And watched 'em one by one. I can think of no other homo sapien in this world who would do the same thing save one. Yours truly. The writer of G.P.
Tho' sis and I differ in our ideologies-she thinks Hillary is too conservative-we do share an affinity for whodunits and Perry Mason.
Perry was just cool. And intelligent. And savvy. And beyond reproach. And a courtroom magician. Della Street was gorgeous and his right-hand "private" secretary. Paul Drake, the playboy private dick, helped Perry solve many cases. Hamilton Burger, the d.a. ( district attorney for L.A. ] was superb as the d.a. [ dumb ass ] who lost every case to our hero. And Lt. Tragg, as the methodical and crusty detective, was a key ingredient, as well.
I could watch this show any time of day. And have seen practically every one of them. The show was on the boob tube for 9 years; back in those olden days, they probably cranked out 40 episodes a year. So there's roughly 350. I'm sure-without exaggeration, I have seen 95% or more of them.
Sure, there was "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman"; "The Cosby Show"; and "The Fugitive," but the best of them all was Stanley Erle Gardner's "Perry Mason."
Amazon.com, here I come, v.c.
P.S. According to one of the viewers of this video: I noticed that this opening was from the episode "The Case of the Deadly Verdict". That episode was notable in that it was the only case that Perry LOST! He did, however, manage to find the real culprit at the end of the episode. ( v.c. interjects: Yea, That's what I wrote )
My all-time favorite is "Perry Mason." Courtroom drama out the kazoo. With Raymond Burr, as the defense lawyer who never lost a case. Technically, he did lose one. In the beginning of the episode the verdict against his client was "guilty," as reported by the jury. By the end, old Perry had figured it out, and Julie Addams was found not-guilty allah O.J., Baretta, and Phil Spector.
I just got off the phone with my liberal sis who has been bedridden the last few days. Sidelined with the Hong Kong flu or one of its derivatives. How did sis while away the time in her sick bed?
She went to the video store and rented 16 episodes of "Perry Mason." And watched 'em one by one. I can think of no other homo sapien in this world who would do the same thing save one. Yours truly. The writer of G.P.
Tho' sis and I differ in our ideologies-she thinks Hillary is too conservative-we do share an affinity for whodunits and Perry Mason.
Perry was just cool. And intelligent. And savvy. And beyond reproach. And a courtroom magician. Della Street was gorgeous and his right-hand "private" secretary. Paul Drake, the playboy private dick, helped Perry solve many cases. Hamilton Burger, the d.a. ( district attorney for L.A. ] was superb as the d.a. [ dumb ass ] who lost every case to our hero. And Lt. Tragg, as the methodical and crusty detective, was a key ingredient, as well.
I could watch this show any time of day. And have seen practically every one of them. The show was on the boob tube for 9 years; back in those olden days, they probably cranked out 40 episodes a year. So there's roughly 350. I'm sure-without exaggeration, I have seen 95% or more of them.
Sure, there was "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman"; "The Cosby Show"; and "The Fugitive," but the best of them all was Stanley Erle Gardner's "Perry Mason."
Amazon.com, here I come, v.c.
P.S. According to one of the viewers of this video: I noticed that this opening was from the episode "The Case of the Deadly Verdict". That episode was notable in that it was the only case that Perry LOST! He did, however, manage to find the real culprit at the end of the episode. ( v.c. interjects: Yea, That's what I wrote )
"Clean Up Time"
The editor of Golden Pond has advised me ( yours truly ) to cease and desist my column for one night. A clean up time, if you will. Sharpen the ax and all that.
Plus, my creative juices have been dulled by the consumption of two large beers, which is a bit odd, because the injestion of hops and barley tends to unleash the l'il buggers, normally. But not tonite.
So I will take the road less traveled and concur with the ed.'s advice. So G.P. takes the night off.
Gimme shelter, v.c.
Plus, my creative juices have been dulled by the consumption of two large beers, which is a bit odd, because the injestion of hops and barley tends to unleash the l'il buggers, normally. But not tonite.
So I will take the road less traveled and concur with the ed.'s advice. So G.P. takes the night off.
Gimme shelter, v.c.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
"Blue Monday"
The pinto was in full stride zooming down the countryside ( on my way to work ) when the news blurb mentioned that January 21 is the most depressing day of the year. I swilled a sip of my Folgers coffee, heavy on the caffeine, and attempted to digest this bit of news.
Why Monday, January 21? The 'experts" or whoever it was who had too much time on his hands, decided to wit: 1) number of days since Christmas; 2) credit card bills are pouring in from overspending via the holidays; 3) it's cold as hell unless you live in or subscribe to a land of global warming; 4) failed New Year's resolutions; 5) and just plain old low motivation.
I had another sip of the mountain-grown stuff as visions of Mrs. Olson quickly and thankfully subsided. Because a malaise pervades my inner spirit, the days are all the same to me anyway. But as I sit here peckin' away, I now realize that this was a particularly shitty day. ( pardon my french, s'il vous plait ) Later on towards midnite it got better, but there was no pep in my step for the most part.
New Year's Resolutions? Sorry, I didn't make any and never have. But if I were to dabble in shaping my inevitable future, perhaps my goals and resolutions would/should be:
1) To save the world....from itself.
2) Develop a new fuel source. Luckily, most of youse don't buy petrol known as diesel. Just saw it at the pump for $3.57 purr, er, per gallon. Ouch!
3) Produce a new sequel of "Jaws" the movie. One which would rival the original. "Jaws 2" is curently on the boob tube directed by Jeannot Szwarc. ( sp ) Don't know how that useless fact got lodged in the brain cells, but it's there. For better or for worse. Just like in marriage, eh?
4) Write a novel which sets the N.Y. Times Best Seller list on FIRE. "Great piece of work from this 50ish new author, who had been relegating his dubious talents in the wonderful world of food bizdom. You can give this book to any and all of your friends/family any day of the year ( January 21, notwithstanding ) ," says Bennett Cerf of Random House.
"I am impressed with this erstwhile food bizdom guy. I picked up his new book, 'Forays into the Infantile' and couldn't put it down. I am eagerly a'waiting to ketchup ( food pun....ha ha ) on all his earlier G.P. tales via blogspot," says Rex Reed of the L.A. Times.
5) Eradicate the landscape of all fast food restaurants. Nuff said.
6) Develop a strategy in which customers who stand in line to buy something-anything-must not take precious time away from the poor slobs behind them. Women: no looting in your vast wasteland of a pocketbook to find your last penny. Men: keep your hands outta your pants, unless you need to maneuver a discreet shift. Take the damn change and GO. "I gotta penny....somewhere-hold on"-should be outlawed. And that person should immediately proceed to jail, allah Monopoly. And fine 'em $200.00 for starters.
7) While we're on the subject, never order your food at any fast food joint by saying, "I needa burger, I needa fries; and I needa ketchup." Let's pretend Anita [ INeeda ] quit the job so order by saying, "I would like" or "gimme." Or any facsimile, thereof.
8) Write Slippery, Rockhead, bbq, pictruandtru, to see if they've fallen off the map.
9) Design a game plan for the N.Y. Giants in their quest to win the Super Bowl Thus, ending New England's dream of a perfect season: 19 and 0!
10) And maybe....start working-out; quit smoking; and limit the amount of times my hands are discreetly in me pockets.
Yeah, January 21 was a dreary kind of day. Yes, I was a victim. The good part? It's now January 22nd here on G.P. and I'm feeling much better.
Farewell and adieu time, v.c.
Why Monday, January 21? The 'experts" or whoever it was who had too much time on his hands, decided to wit: 1) number of days since Christmas; 2) credit card bills are pouring in from overspending via the holidays; 3) it's cold as hell unless you live in or subscribe to a land of global warming; 4) failed New Year's resolutions; 5) and just plain old low motivation.
I had another sip of the mountain-grown stuff as visions of Mrs. Olson quickly and thankfully subsided. Because a malaise pervades my inner spirit, the days are all the same to me anyway. But as I sit here peckin' away, I now realize that this was a particularly shitty day. ( pardon my french, s'il vous plait ) Later on towards midnite it got better, but there was no pep in my step for the most part.
New Year's Resolutions? Sorry, I didn't make any and never have. But if I were to dabble in shaping my inevitable future, perhaps my goals and resolutions would/should be:
1) To save the world....from itself.
2) Develop a new fuel source. Luckily, most of youse don't buy petrol known as diesel. Just saw it at the pump for $3.57 purr, er, per gallon. Ouch!
3) Produce a new sequel of "Jaws" the movie. One which would rival the original. "Jaws 2" is curently on the boob tube directed by Jeannot Szwarc. ( sp ) Don't know how that useless fact got lodged in the brain cells, but it's there. For better or for worse. Just like in marriage, eh?
4) Write a novel which sets the N.Y. Times Best Seller list on FIRE. "Great piece of work from this 50ish new author, who had been relegating his dubious talents in the wonderful world of food bizdom. You can give this book to any and all of your friends/family any day of the year ( January 21, notwithstanding ) ," says Bennett Cerf of Random House.
"I am impressed with this erstwhile food bizdom guy. I picked up his new book, 'Forays into the Infantile' and couldn't put it down. I am eagerly a'waiting to ketchup ( food pun....ha ha ) on all his earlier G.P. tales via blogspot," says Rex Reed of the L.A. Times.
5) Eradicate the landscape of all fast food restaurants. Nuff said.
6) Develop a strategy in which customers who stand in line to buy something-anything-must not take precious time away from the poor slobs behind them. Women: no looting in your vast wasteland of a pocketbook to find your last penny. Men: keep your hands outta your pants, unless you need to maneuver a discreet shift. Take the damn change and GO. "I gotta penny....somewhere-hold on"-should be outlawed. And that person should immediately proceed to jail, allah Monopoly. And fine 'em $200.00 for starters.
7) While we're on the subject, never order your food at any fast food joint by saying, "I needa burger, I needa fries; and I needa ketchup." Let's pretend Anita [ INeeda ] quit the job so order by saying, "I would like" or "gimme." Or any facsimile, thereof.
8) Write Slippery, Rockhead, bbq, pictruandtru, to see if they've fallen off the map.
9) Design a game plan for the N.Y. Giants in their quest to win the Super Bowl Thus, ending New England's dream of a perfect season: 19 and 0!
10) And maybe....start working-out; quit smoking; and limit the amount of times my hands are discreetly in me pockets.
Yeah, January 21 was a dreary kind of day. Yes, I was a victim. The good part? It's now January 22nd here on G.P. and I'm feeling much better.
Farewell and adieu time, v.c.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Saturday, January 19, 2008
"Dear Cat:"
Dear Cat, I once read where you have been writing these infantile forays since 2001. Because, Shirley, you get a new reader every now and then, could you share a blast from your past. I am like you, in that I have a disdain for the new slang. I have never used the word, closue, and like you never will. "Bedtime Story" is one of my favorites. Could we see it again?
Signed: You Are What You Eat
Dear Reader: Here's the story per your request. Reprinted November, 2004. Time flies when yer havin' fun. Thanks for the query.
You've got to be in the mood to do this stuff. Sometimes it's like magic. You can rattle it off faster than a bevy of bullets from a machine gun. And sometimes ye old writer's block gets in the way.
Well, the latter applies tonite. The G.P. intro disappeared again, and I can't find the file-don't know where it is-which killed the creative spirit. Kaput, fini.'
So we'll have to go to the archives. We'll be write back when we find one of substance. Please, hold on.
Sorry it took so long but here's one from back in the day. It was/is entitled "Bedtime Story." Written 5-28-03. It is submitted for your approval and perusal:
Ten years from now I'm sure I'll have some grandkids. And as we all know, you have to read/tell them a bed time story. Since ten years can go quickly, it's time to get into practice. So here goes. Bed time story 2013, sometime in the not too distant future....
"Granddad, tell us a story, please?"
"Sure, kids. Huddle around."
"Tell us about Piccadilly, again, granddad. Can it include ronnie? Those are our favorite stories."
"Sure, kids. Well, we had just bought Morrison's and we had a mission. One team, one mission. And we had an astronaut at our big gala event. He told us about Apollo 13. And how three men and a team of engineers overcame big obstacles in space, and averted a catastrophe by working together. One team, one mission. Get it."
"We get it, granddad."
"The big meeting was all glitz and glamour. And we heard testimonials from some of the managers. And PIC had gone big time. We were the largest cafeteria chain in the universe. And we were gonna kick some serious butt.
But, soon, it turned sour. Like javelin, I went to a conversion. And when we left, like javelin, they went back to doing things the Morrison's way. And we spent a lot of money. And we changed the name to Piccadilly. And the customers balked, cos they liked getting hoki on a child's plate, and turkey and dressing, and a quarter of a chicken. And jello. And bread. And a drink. And we couldn't understand why the customers < that's what we called them, back then > didn't like our child's plate. Half a piece of cod and two veggies. But they did."
"Granddad, what about ronnie? What happened next? Did he have a plan?"
"Well, kids. Ronnie fired all the district engineers. And then he fired guys who had helped build Piccadilly. Men with many years of service. And he fired our general manager and replaced him with azam."
"What's an azam, granddad?"
"Well, azam became the new coo. It was well chronicled how he had rescued Chi Chi's, a well known mexican restaurant, from the grim reaper. He cut and snipped at Chi Chi's and was hailed as the new messiah of restaurant revitilization. And ronnie hired him. And they sent out an inspirational tape, and they talked about the team, the piccadilly team. And his plan worked for awhile. The stock went from $1.00 and topped out at a little over $3.00.
And we had a big meeting. And the marketing boys were giddy about their suckcess, and they were referring to azam using Superman cliches. 'Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, he's changing clothes in a phone booth, here's our own Clark Kent, azam.'
And he was going to teach us how to celebrate. And increase communication. And how he, er, we were turning things around. And he kept all the pit bull guys, but things turned sour again."
"What happened, grandpa? Did PIC raise the price on a dilly? On drinks? What happened?"
"The marketing boys came up with smokeyard bbq. And we had to have it on our counters for 3 months."
"What's a smokeyard bbq, granddad?"
"BBQ chicken, sliced pork, and corn fritters. And it helped drive the guests away. Then they followed that up with italian cuisine. Chicken thighs, skirt steak, terrormisu cakes, and rice pilaf in a box."
"Granddad, do you miss Piccadilly?"
"Well, I miss the nice people I used to work with. And the guests who weren't rowdy. And the people from the message bored. Clif, bbq, hoots, bongo, a2fay, ditchus, javelin, leftbehindbabs, the card, johnnyc, poopshooter, didacticdaddy, rawchopbeef, pictruandtru, hope I'm not leaving anybody off."
"Granddad, wasn't bbq4u2 the man who wrote the investigative piece that won him a pulitzer? And landed him a job with the Washington Post?"
"Yes, his expose on the horrible conditions of that chinese restaurant won him world reknown. And he quickly became a legend in his own mind. He stays in touch, but you know the press."
"And what happened to ronnie, granddad? Tell us again, please."
"You kids know that ronnie resigned. And that his last statement on the record was 'embrace change.'"
"And, granddad. Tell us again what you said."
"You kids. I said he could embrace my 12 inch pianist."
"What's a 12 inch pianist, granddad?"
"You'll understand when you get older. Now it's time to go to sleep. Good night you rowdy grandkids."
Signed: You Are What You Eat
Dear Reader: Here's the story per your request. Reprinted November, 2004. Time flies when yer havin' fun. Thanks for the query.
You've got to be in the mood to do this stuff. Sometimes it's like magic. You can rattle it off faster than a bevy of bullets from a machine gun. And sometimes ye old writer's block gets in the way.
Well, the latter applies tonite. The G.P. intro disappeared again, and I can't find the file-don't know where it is-which killed the creative spirit. Kaput, fini.'
So we'll have to go to the archives. We'll be write back when we find one of substance. Please, hold on.
Sorry it took so long but here's one from back in the day. It was/is entitled "Bedtime Story." Written 5-28-03. It is submitted for your approval and perusal:
Ten years from now I'm sure I'll have some grandkids. And as we all know, you have to read/tell them a bed time story. Since ten years can go quickly, it's time to get into practice. So here goes. Bed time story 2013, sometime in the not too distant future....
"Granddad, tell us a story, please?"
"Sure, kids. Huddle around."
"Tell us about Piccadilly, again, granddad. Can it include ronnie? Those are our favorite stories."
"Sure, kids. Well, we had just bought Morrison's and we had a mission. One team, one mission. And we had an astronaut at our big gala event. He told us about Apollo 13. And how three men and a team of engineers overcame big obstacles in space, and averted a catastrophe by working together. One team, one mission. Get it."
"We get it, granddad."
"The big meeting was all glitz and glamour. And we heard testimonials from some of the managers. And PIC had gone big time. We were the largest cafeteria chain in the universe. And we were gonna kick some serious butt.
But, soon, it turned sour. Like javelin, I went to a conversion. And when we left, like javelin, they went back to doing things the Morrison's way. And we spent a lot of money. And we changed the name to Piccadilly. And the customers balked, cos they liked getting hoki on a child's plate, and turkey and dressing, and a quarter of a chicken. And jello. And bread. And a drink. And we couldn't understand why the customers < that's what we called them, back then > didn't like our child's plate. Half a piece of cod and two veggies. But they did."
"Granddad, what about ronnie? What happened next? Did he have a plan?"
"Well, kids. Ronnie fired all the district engineers. And then he fired guys who had helped build Piccadilly. Men with many years of service. And he fired our general manager and replaced him with azam."
"What's an azam, granddad?"
"Well, azam became the new coo. It was well chronicled how he had rescued Chi Chi's, a well known mexican restaurant, from the grim reaper. He cut and snipped at Chi Chi's and was hailed as the new messiah of restaurant revitilization. And ronnie hired him. And they sent out an inspirational tape, and they talked about the team, the piccadilly team. And his plan worked for awhile. The stock went from $1.00 and topped out at a little over $3.00.
And we had a big meeting. And the marketing boys were giddy about their suckcess, and they were referring to azam using Superman cliches. 'Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, he's changing clothes in a phone booth, here's our own Clark Kent, azam.'
And he was going to teach us how to celebrate. And increase communication. And how he, er, we were turning things around. And he kept all the pit bull guys, but things turned sour again."
"What happened, grandpa? Did PIC raise the price on a dilly? On drinks? What happened?"
"The marketing boys came up with smokeyard bbq. And we had to have it on our counters for 3 months."
"What's a smokeyard bbq, granddad?"
"BBQ chicken, sliced pork, and corn fritters. And it helped drive the guests away. Then they followed that up with italian cuisine. Chicken thighs, skirt steak, terrormisu cakes, and rice pilaf in a box."
"Granddad, do you miss Piccadilly?"
"Well, I miss the nice people I used to work with. And the guests who weren't rowdy. And the people from the message bored. Clif, bbq, hoots, bongo, a2fay, ditchus, javelin, leftbehindbabs, the card, johnnyc, poopshooter, didacticdaddy, rawchopbeef, pictruandtru, hope I'm not leaving anybody off."
"Granddad, wasn't bbq4u2 the man who wrote the investigative piece that won him a pulitzer? And landed him a job with the Washington Post?"
"Yes, his expose on the horrible conditions of that chinese restaurant won him world reknown. And he quickly became a legend in his own mind. He stays in touch, but you know the press."
"And what happened to ronnie, granddad? Tell us again, please."
"You kids know that ronnie resigned. And that his last statement on the record was 'embrace change.'"
"And, granddad. Tell us again what you said."
"You kids. I said he could embrace my 12 inch pianist."
"What's a 12 inch pianist, granddad?"
"You'll understand when you get older. Now it's time to go to sleep. Good night you rowdy grandkids."
Thursday, January 17, 2008
"v.c.'s Musings"
It's the day after the storm, and the denizenry reveled in the chaos and the sight of white snow falling from the skies. We in the South have seen snow falls, blizzards, and black ice. Not lately, tho'. Why? Global warming! You dolts!
Yesterday was an event and got everybody excited. People who have lived elsewhere, like on the frozen tundras of Green Bay, the mountainous slopes of Colorado, or Alaskan igloos dwellers pooh-poohed our pathetic reactions of awe.
I heard a lot of:
"Where I come from [ Indiana ] this t'warnt nothing. You ain't seen snow til you seen snow in Indiana."
"I couldn't believe it when I saw snow plows going down the road. In Minneapolis, now that's some snow....for you."
Each comment was followed by a snicker. A mischievous smile. A "I can't believe they ate the whole thing."
I defended the region's honor. Yeah, we've had snow. And I tell 'em about the blizzards of '81 and '93 or was it '94. These events occurred before global warming, so most of the denizenry think you're telling tall tales or just plain hallucinating.
Back then you never knew it was coming. Until it was toooooooooo late. In '81 the blizzard shut down the city. Unfortunately, the work force was dutifully on the job. It took 'em hours to get home. I tried to be a good Samaritan by taking some of my charges, who were stranded, home when the snows started a'fallin'. It took me all night to get home. If I had escaped at first, I could have been home roasting in front of an open fire, allah chestnuts.
I would have no regrets doing a good deed, but the people I helped didn't seem to appreciate my sacrifice. Like they were entitled. Or something. Be it as it may, I did it. Risking life and limb. But it was an adventure, and I'll leave it at that.
But now the technology has improved to the point where there's little or no surprise.
I do remember waking up one April morning in 1985 and seeing a winter wonderland before my eyes. I was scheduled for surgery-ahem, in the groin area, and it's too much information, I know. Was this a sign to cease and desist the upcoming surgery?
The snow was beautiful; the roads weren't bad-remember it was April. I had the surgery, and the foot of snow had melted by noon. Along with yours truly. Ouch!
Sometimes, I think it would be better if we didn't know the bad weather was right around the bend. Takes all the mystery out of it. And then there's the precautions we can now take, and all of the raids on the supermarkets.
Musing 2: My foray from last night had a definite theme. "Revolver" in the picture. Songs from the Fab 4-my favs-included "Happiness is a Warm Gun"; and watching the classic sequel "Death Wish 3."
Btw, there is a "Death Wish 4" with the enigmatic Charles Bronson. How do I know. Was there a google search involved? Nah. I'm watching it now via AMC, the home of bleeped curse words and multi-layered commercials. I remember when it was commercial free. Not any more. See TCM for an alternative. Which is showing "From Here to Eternity." A dark, brooding tale of life in the South Pacific, pre-Pearl Harbor, December 7. 19 and 41. Too dark and brooding for me tonight. I'd rather watch Death Wish.
It is now time to end tonite's slugfest, as the revelry of the snow has subsided. The denizenry has bid adieu to the foul weather. The upside? Supposed to be an Arctic blast this weekend. And we shall replay it all over again.
Snow....snow....snow. v.c.
P.S. The weather outside ( yesterday ) was frightful.
But inside, it was so delightful
P.S.S. Musings concludes.
Yesterday was an event and got everybody excited. People who have lived elsewhere, like on the frozen tundras of Green Bay, the mountainous slopes of Colorado, or Alaskan igloos dwellers pooh-poohed our pathetic reactions of awe.
I heard a lot of:
"Where I come from [ Indiana ] this t'warnt nothing. You ain't seen snow til you seen snow in Indiana."
"I couldn't believe it when I saw snow plows going down the road. In Minneapolis, now that's some snow....for you."
Each comment was followed by a snicker. A mischievous smile. A "I can't believe they ate the whole thing."
I defended the region's honor. Yeah, we've had snow. And I tell 'em about the blizzards of '81 and '93 or was it '94. These events occurred before global warming, so most of the denizenry think you're telling tall tales or just plain hallucinating.
Back then you never knew it was coming. Until it was toooooooooo late. In '81 the blizzard shut down the city. Unfortunately, the work force was dutifully on the job. It took 'em hours to get home. I tried to be a good Samaritan by taking some of my charges, who were stranded, home when the snows started a'fallin'. It took me all night to get home. If I had escaped at first, I could have been home roasting in front of an open fire, allah chestnuts.
I would have no regrets doing a good deed, but the people I helped didn't seem to appreciate my sacrifice. Like they were entitled. Or something. Be it as it may, I did it. Risking life and limb. But it was an adventure, and I'll leave it at that.
But now the technology has improved to the point where there's little or no surprise.
I do remember waking up one April morning in 1985 and seeing a winter wonderland before my eyes. I was scheduled for surgery-ahem, in the groin area, and it's too much information, I know. Was this a sign to cease and desist the upcoming surgery?
The snow was beautiful; the roads weren't bad-remember it was April. I had the surgery, and the foot of snow had melted by noon. Along with yours truly. Ouch!
Sometimes, I think it would be better if we didn't know the bad weather was right around the bend. Takes all the mystery out of it. And then there's the precautions we can now take, and all of the raids on the supermarkets.
Musing 2: My foray from last night had a definite theme. "Revolver" in the picture. Songs from the Fab 4-my favs-included "Happiness is a Warm Gun"; and watching the classic sequel "Death Wish 3."
Btw, there is a "Death Wish 4" with the enigmatic Charles Bronson. How do I know. Was there a google search involved? Nah. I'm watching it now via AMC, the home of bleeped curse words and multi-layered commercials. I remember when it was commercial free. Not any more. See TCM for an alternative. Which is showing "From Here to Eternity." A dark, brooding tale of life in the South Pacific, pre-Pearl Harbor, December 7. 19 and 41. Too dark and brooding for me tonight. I'd rather watch Death Wish.
It is now time to end tonite's slugfest, as the revelry of the snow has subsided. The denizenry has bid adieu to the foul weather. The upside? Supposed to be an Arctic blast this weekend. And we shall replay it all over again.
Snow....snow....snow. v.c.
P.S. The weather outside ( yesterday ) was frightful.
But inside, it was so delightful
P.S.S. Musings concludes.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
"Dear Cat:"
Advice to and for the lovelorn:
Dear Cat: You have gotten back on your Fab 4 kick. I love them, too, but what about the films, man? You are the resident genius when it comes to old movies, particularly those horror flicks from the late 50's. What gives? And what are some of your favorite movies?
Signed: They're Gonna Put Me In The Movies
Dear Movies: Some of my favorites-and thanks for the query-are:
1) Casablanca: The ultimate chick flick with Rick and Ilsa.
2) Vertigo: Another chick flick. And the music! Hitchcock's best.
3) The 7th Voyage of Sinbad: The best sci-fi movie I've ever seen.
If, I were writing this column to the loveloin, I might have to include any movie with Johnny Weismuller and Maureen O'Sullivan, ( Mia farrow's mom ) as tarzan and Jane, respectively.
Another movie I like is currently playing on AMC. Bummer, because they delete those choice slang words ( for unlawful carnal knowledge, per example ) and have way too many commercials. It happens to be aptly entitled: "Death Wish 3." Why this sleeper you may ask? Because I've had 3 death wishes since starting this deranged foray.
Anyway, thanks for the query?
Dear Cat: This theory of thought may be a bit over your head, but I thought I would ask anyway. Do you believe in muses? And do you think one could inspire you to write something other than these infantile emissions of yours?
The Muse has inspired English poetry since Chaucer invoked her in 1374. Muse comes from Latin Mūsa, from Greek Mousa. ( from Dictionary.com-where else? )
Signed: Bemused and Amused.
Dear Beamused: I have no for. unlawful. carnal. knowledge-ing clue of which you speak. I will deign to write them the way I see them. But perhaps there is something to being inspired by a muse. It's a nice thought. And one to which I will give some considerable thought. Yes, I think I would like to begin a short story, a novel, a narrative if you will. What have I got to lose?
P.S. Was there a "Death Wish 4?" And "Baby, I'm Amused, er, Amazed" ( This is an incredible video. While watching, I got chill bumps. The lead guitar work and the drumming, plus Paul's voice and mastery of the piano are not to be missed. He wrote this song in '70 or therabouts, and played all the instruments. Including every song on the album. The guy is f'n incredible )
Dear Cat: I read the first two letters of your colums, and you haven't mentioned the Fab 4 not once. I know you're itching to. Because you include a you-tube in every foray. Am I right? And if so, list a few of your favorite songs from them.
Signed: From Me To You
Dear From Me To You. Correctomondo. You got me. Guilty as charged. Here are some of my favoites:
1) Happiness Is A Warm Gun ( Bang Bang Shoot Shoot )
2) Help
3) Piggies
4) Helter Skelter
5) Maxwell's Silver Hammer
6) Run For Your Life
7) Tell Me What You See
8) There's A Place
9) Because
10) ( Love ) It's A Bitch-Now how did a Rolling Stones song make the survey?
All the above songs were inspired from Death Wish 3: Now playing on AMC.
Thanks for the queries: Another "Dear Cat" copyright pending?
Dear Cat: You have gotten back on your Fab 4 kick. I love them, too, but what about the films, man? You are the resident genius when it comes to old movies, particularly those horror flicks from the late 50's. What gives? And what are some of your favorite movies?
Signed: They're Gonna Put Me In The Movies
Dear Movies: Some of my favorites-and thanks for the query-are:
1) Casablanca: The ultimate chick flick with Rick and Ilsa.
2) Vertigo: Another chick flick. And the music! Hitchcock's best.
3) The 7th Voyage of Sinbad: The best sci-fi movie I've ever seen.
If, I were writing this column to the loveloin, I might have to include any movie with Johnny Weismuller and Maureen O'Sullivan, ( Mia farrow's mom ) as tarzan and Jane, respectively.
Another movie I like is currently playing on AMC. Bummer, because they delete those choice slang words ( for unlawful carnal knowledge, per example ) and have way too many commercials. It happens to be aptly entitled: "Death Wish 3." Why this sleeper you may ask? Because I've had 3 death wishes since starting this deranged foray.
Anyway, thanks for the query?
Dear Cat: This theory of thought may be a bit over your head, but I thought I would ask anyway. Do you believe in muses? And do you think one could inspire you to write something other than these infantile emissions of yours?
The Muse has inspired English poetry since Chaucer invoked her in 1374. Muse comes from Latin Mūsa, from Greek Mousa. ( from Dictionary.com-where else? )
Signed: Bemused and Amused.
Dear Beamused: I have no for. unlawful. carnal. knowledge-ing clue of which you speak. I will deign to write them the way I see them. But perhaps there is something to being inspired by a muse. It's a nice thought. And one to which I will give some considerable thought. Yes, I think I would like to begin a short story, a novel, a narrative if you will. What have I got to lose?
P.S. Was there a "Death Wish 4?" And "Baby, I'm Amused, er, Amazed" ( This is an incredible video. While watching, I got chill bumps. The lead guitar work and the drumming, plus Paul's voice and mastery of the piano are not to be missed. He wrote this song in '70 or therabouts, and played all the instruments. Including every song on the album. The guy is f'n incredible )
Dear Cat: I read the first two letters of your colums, and you haven't mentioned the Fab 4 not once. I know you're itching to. Because you include a you-tube in every foray. Am I right? And if so, list a few of your favorite songs from them.
Signed: From Me To You
Dear From Me To You. Correctomondo. You got me. Guilty as charged. Here are some of my favoites:
1) Happiness Is A Warm Gun ( Bang Bang Shoot Shoot )
2) Help
3) Piggies
4) Helter Skelter
5) Maxwell's Silver Hammer
6) Run For Your Life
7) Tell Me What You See
8) There's A Place
9) Because
10) ( Love ) It's A Bitch-Now how did a Rolling Stones song make the survey?
All the above songs were inspired from Death Wish 3: Now playing on AMC.
Thanks for the queries: Another "Dear Cat" copyright pending?
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
"Mrs. Olson"
Written this past Saturday night or Sunday morning, depending on which way the wind blows. But never published for whatever reason.
It is 1:40 in the a,m, and yours truly is attempting to while away the time. I'm also listening to "Handel on the Law" via the radio ( WSB ) and the computer. Denizens of this world call in with their questions. Most of the time they want to sue somebody. Evidently the host is a famous lawyer, who claims on his broadcast that he "gives marginal legal advice."
A rather feminine male voice is asking if he can sue because of some predicament he suffered while being under the auspices of a rehab center. Funny interplay.
The next caller: "My wife just got ticketed for a dui....yadi yadi yadi. This caller cuts across the grain. An aberration in that she's not planning on using the "S" word. Sue for the uninitiated.
So, I'm biding my time. Trying to stay up until 3 a.m. I was resting on the sofa-bad move when you want to keep the eyelids open-but had a jolt when wondering where I had lain my prozac, er, xanax. Yes, I know anyone who reads my forays could never imagine my need for any medicines, esecially those that dull the senses.
It's 2:05 so the time is going by and my mission is possible.
Handel is taking a break, and the hourly news break is in session. Hillary says the country needs new direction; the Falcons are close to signing a new g.m., and the usual mayhem is happening all over the city and world.
I will now take a respite from toiling on the computer to grab a cup of Folgers. And whatever happened to Mrs. Olson? Mountain grown and all that.
Here's a good one. Judge Judy is being sued. Race discrimination. From some of her former team members. One litigant ( a former black team member producer ) claims Judge Judy doesn't want blacks on the show. Gotta be blonde and good-looking. Hmmmmmmm!
Supposed to get down to 38 degrees tonight. It has been pretty warm here lately after a cold snap a week or so ago. 70 plus degrees in January brings out the global warming crowd. I could enjoy a good snow. Shut down the whole city. 5 foot drifts would be nice. Raids on the supermarket. Wild hysteria from the townfolk. Plus we need the water. Yes, I would feel sorry for the homeless. And the animals. And any of those people who are forced to attend work no matter what.
I remember an old boss saying we HAD to report to work regardless of the situation. Wintry precipitation notwithstanding. He even fired out a memo after a few of us didn't open their stores.
He even recommended the hiring of a dogsled if that's what it took.
Hmmmm. Dog sled rentals in Golden Pond? Nah. But it was funny. Memorable line. And who said bosses have no sense of humor?
It's 2:26 but I'm getting sleepy....so sleepy. I do need to urinate-I know, too much information-so....hold on a minute.
Relief! We could switch gears, but we could end this deranged foray.
It's 2:41. Time to go. It's been an hour. And Handel is still answering questions.
Selah, v.c.
P.S. Due to the length of tonite's ramblings, there are no official postscripts. Only this one.
Update: Seems G.P. is in for a wintry blast tomorrow night. The denizenry has started raiding the supermarkets.
It is 1:40 in the a,m, and yours truly is attempting to while away the time. I'm also listening to "Handel on the Law" via the radio ( WSB ) and the computer. Denizens of this world call in with their questions. Most of the time they want to sue somebody. Evidently the host is a famous lawyer, who claims on his broadcast that he "gives marginal legal advice."
A rather feminine male voice is asking if he can sue because of some predicament he suffered while being under the auspices of a rehab center. Funny interplay.
The next caller: "My wife just got ticketed for a dui....yadi yadi yadi. This caller cuts across the grain. An aberration in that she's not planning on using the "S" word. Sue for the uninitiated.
So, I'm biding my time. Trying to stay up until 3 a.m. I was resting on the sofa-bad move when you want to keep the eyelids open-but had a jolt when wondering where I had lain my prozac, er, xanax. Yes, I know anyone who reads my forays could never imagine my need for any medicines, esecially those that dull the senses.
It's 2:05 so the time is going by and my mission is possible.
Handel is taking a break, and the hourly news break is in session. Hillary says the country needs new direction; the Falcons are close to signing a new g.m., and the usual mayhem is happening all over the city and world.
I will now take a respite from toiling on the computer to grab a cup of Folgers. And whatever happened to Mrs. Olson? Mountain grown and all that.
Here's a good one. Judge Judy is being sued. Race discrimination. From some of her former team members. One litigant ( a former black team member producer ) claims Judge Judy doesn't want blacks on the show. Gotta be blonde and good-looking. Hmmmmmmm!
Supposed to get down to 38 degrees tonight. It has been pretty warm here lately after a cold snap a week or so ago. 70 plus degrees in January brings out the global warming crowd. I could enjoy a good snow. Shut down the whole city. 5 foot drifts would be nice. Raids on the supermarket. Wild hysteria from the townfolk. Plus we need the water. Yes, I would feel sorry for the homeless. And the animals. And any of those people who are forced to attend work no matter what.
I remember an old boss saying we HAD to report to work regardless of the situation. Wintry precipitation notwithstanding. He even fired out a memo after a few of us didn't open their stores.
He even recommended the hiring of a dogsled if that's what it took.
Hmmmm. Dog sled rentals in Golden Pond? Nah. But it was funny. Memorable line. And who said bosses have no sense of humor?
It's 2:26 but I'm getting sleepy....so sleepy. I do need to urinate-I know, too much information-so....hold on a minute.
Relief! We could switch gears, but we could end this deranged foray.
It's 2:41. Time to go. It's been an hour. And Handel is still answering questions.
Selah, v.c.
P.S. Due to the length of tonite's ramblings, there are no official postscripts. Only this one.
Update: Seems G.P. is in for a wintry blast tomorrow night. The denizenry has started raiding the supermarkets.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
"Another 'Dear Cat'"
Dear Cat, I enjoy reading your advice to/for the lovelorn, but English and conjugating verbs ain't my bag. How 'bout a few more topical issues. Like who are you voting for in the '08 election? Is Obama your man? Or is Mike Huckabee your man? Or is Hillary, your, er, man? Get down to the nitty-gritty. This is an important election. So who are you voting for? Ahem! For whom are you voting?
Signed: Hillary Dickory Dock
Dear Hillary's Dickory: Sorry about your lack of interest in conjugating verbs. It's a drudgery, and it is telling when listening to the adult population. My favorite misuse of grammar is this one: ( and I hear it all the time ) I should have went to.... Because this isn't your cup of tea, we will switch gears and delve into your query, which is appreciated by the way.
Because of my recent travails, I am not up-to-speed on the candidates. I do know that Mike Huckabee seemingly appeared out of nowhere to grab the lead role on the Republican side last week in the Iowa Caucus. Tonite it seems to be McCain. And I do know that Obama is the front-runner so far on the dems side. And Hillary is not far behind. But it's early in the contest. Anything can happen and....will. See Howard Dean in '04 for example. There seems to be concern about Obama's religion. See Hootsbuddy's Place, where the semi-retired ex-hippie resides, to get the scoop. And I've seen e-mails showing Obama's disdain for the American Flag. See Snoops.com for that scoop. So ask me again in a few months. And, please, remember when entertaining friends or associates say "I should have "gone" instead of the former. There are people like me who are listening. Thanks for the query!
We interrupt tonite's "Dear Cat" for an important video: "Obama Should Know!" or "Yo Mama Should Know!"
Dear Cat: I normally have a low-fat, sugar-free vanilla latte with 6 splendas, when I stop at Starbucks. In the a.m. I like my coffee heavy on the caffeine. At night I go for the decaf. I recently learned that the famous chain is named after a character in "Moby Dick." Do you know of any other chains that are named after literary figures or works?
Signed: Pequod Skipper and his Little Buddy
Dear Captain: Thanks for the query. I loved the strawberry frappaccino, but my waist line didn't, plus I got fired from my job, so I just go for the regular coffee now. Black.
There have been a few chains named via literature, but most have gone out of business. Maybe you've heard of them.
10) Portnoy's Complaint: A cafeteria chain that never got off the ground. The name, oxymoron as it were, was ill-fitting in today's market.
9) The Deerslayer: Known for its venison steaks and pictures adorning the walls of hunters making the kills. PETA would have no part of it, and its demise was soon imminent.
8) Love Story ( Oliver and Jennys ) Aimed towards two different clienteles. Rich yuppies and Jewish girls who made it to Radcliffe. A boutique which went south after a few short months.
7) Canterbury Tales: A hamburger joint which had good burgers, but because most patrons thought of Chaucer as writing "nasty" stories, many reviewers used the same word to describe the faire. It was over before it began.
6) Dante's Inferno: This was a cute bistro that mixed food with religion. It was doomed from the git-go.
5) The Eeliad and the Odyssey: Play on words in the title, but most "guests" could never fathom the taste of raw sushi, including eels and octopi. Most repeat "guests" noticed a lowering of their cholesterol, however. So the owners have went, er, gone into the making of omega supplementary dietary pills.
4) You Can't Go Home Again: This firm specialized in divorce counseling. Needless to say, the name may have had something to do with its demise.
3) The Long Hot Summer: This food chain had great momentum when it opened, but the employees soon formed a union, which caused the owners emotional duress, and a "For Sale" sign was soon dispatched on the front lawn.
2) Love Me Tender: A steak house specializing in kobe beef. But most guests balked at paying $40 for a 20 oz. hamburger, when they could go to McDonalds and get a double cheeseburger for a dollar.
1) Silence of the Lambs: Another full-scale uptown restaurant. One of its specialties was fava beans over white rice and rare lamb liver. Rumours have it that the guests would rather have had chicken livers-cooked well done-and the beans, 'tho popular, couldn't offset the overhead.
These are just a few of the restaurants that have met the grim reaper. So to those budding entrepreneurs, the name is so important. Thanks for the query.
Well, that's a wrap. Another installment of "Dear Cat."
P.S. It is what it is!
Signed: Hillary Dickory Dock
Dear Hillary's Dickory: Sorry about your lack of interest in conjugating verbs. It's a drudgery, and it is telling when listening to the adult population. My favorite misuse of grammar is this one: ( and I hear it all the time ) I should have went to.... Because this isn't your cup of tea, we will switch gears and delve into your query, which is appreciated by the way.
Because of my recent travails, I am not up-to-speed on the candidates. I do know that Mike Huckabee seemingly appeared out of nowhere to grab the lead role on the Republican side last week in the Iowa Caucus. Tonite it seems to be McCain. And I do know that Obama is the front-runner so far on the dems side. And Hillary is not far behind. But it's early in the contest. Anything can happen and....will. See Howard Dean in '04 for example. There seems to be concern about Obama's religion. See Hootsbuddy's Place, where the semi-retired ex-hippie resides, to get the scoop. And I've seen e-mails showing Obama's disdain for the American Flag. See Snoops.com for that scoop. So ask me again in a few months. And, please, remember when entertaining friends or associates say "I should have "gone" instead of the former. There are people like me who are listening. Thanks for the query!
We interrupt tonite's "Dear Cat" for an important video: "Obama Should Know!" or "Yo Mama Should Know!"
Dear Cat: I normally have a low-fat, sugar-free vanilla latte with 6 splendas, when I stop at Starbucks. In the a.m. I like my coffee heavy on the caffeine. At night I go for the decaf. I recently learned that the famous chain is named after a character in "Moby Dick." Do you know of any other chains that are named after literary figures or works?
Signed: Pequod Skipper and his Little Buddy
Dear Captain: Thanks for the query. I loved the strawberry frappaccino, but my waist line didn't, plus I got fired from my job, so I just go for the regular coffee now. Black.
There have been a few chains named via literature, but most have gone out of business. Maybe you've heard of them.
10) Portnoy's Complaint: A cafeteria chain that never got off the ground. The name, oxymoron as it were, was ill-fitting in today's market.
9) The Deerslayer: Known for its venison steaks and pictures adorning the walls of hunters making the kills. PETA would have no part of it, and its demise was soon imminent.
8) Love Story ( Oliver and Jennys ) Aimed towards two different clienteles. Rich yuppies and Jewish girls who made it to Radcliffe. A boutique which went south after a few short months.
7) Canterbury Tales: A hamburger joint which had good burgers, but because most patrons thought of Chaucer as writing "nasty" stories, many reviewers used the same word to describe the faire. It was over before it began.
6) Dante's Inferno: This was a cute bistro that mixed food with religion. It was doomed from the git-go.
5) The Eeliad and the Odyssey: Play on words in the title, but most "guests" could never fathom the taste of raw sushi, including eels and octopi. Most repeat "guests" noticed a lowering of their cholesterol, however. So the owners have went, er, gone into the making of omega supplementary dietary pills.
4) You Can't Go Home Again: This firm specialized in divorce counseling. Needless to say, the name may have had something to do with its demise.
3) The Long Hot Summer: This food chain had great momentum when it opened, but the employees soon formed a union, which caused the owners emotional duress, and a "For Sale" sign was soon dispatched on the front lawn.
2) Love Me Tender: A steak house specializing in kobe beef. But most guests balked at paying $40 for a 20 oz. hamburger, when they could go to McDonalds and get a double cheeseburger for a dollar.
1) Silence of the Lambs: Another full-scale uptown restaurant. One of its specialties was fava beans over white rice and rare lamb liver. Rumours have it that the guests would rather have had chicken livers-cooked well done-and the beans, 'tho popular, couldn't offset the overhead.
These are just a few of the restaurants that have met the grim reaper. So to those budding entrepreneurs, the name is so important. Thanks for the query.
Well, that's a wrap. Another installment of "Dear Cat."
P.S. It is what it is!
Monday, January 07, 2008
"Dear Cat"
Another installment of "Dear Cat." For the lovelorn.
Dear Cat: I have noticed lately that perhaps you have lost your spirit. No longer do you pound the keys as fervently as you once did. What's up? Has your disdain for the modern world made you a cynic? Do you have agoraphobia, afraid to meet the challenges of the day. Have you gotten older, a little slower. Where's the edginess? What happened to the irreverency? Have you lost your freakin' mind? I am a loyal reader who wants you to get it back.
Signed: I Got My Mojo Working, But It Just Don't Work On You. ( apologies to Manfred Mann. )
Dear Mojo, Thanks for the query. The Catfish will rise again, allah the Phoenix. Or perhaps he will sink farther than the Titanic. Yes, my ying hast lost its yang. Will I retrieve my spunk, my fire? Only time will tell. But as Scarlett O'Hara once mused: "Tomorrow's another day."
Dear Cat: I am struggling in English. My teacher is a real beatch. She expects us to do our homework. Participate in class, and can you believe this? She demands we sit upright in our seats. No slouching allowed. Did you ever have to put up with such abuse while attending your alma mater, Truck U.?
P.S. We are currently conjugating verbs, and I am having the hardest time knowing how to properly use all the forms of "lie." Any pointers?
P.S.S. I have noticed ( like the earlier entry ) that you've lost your verve. Lucy, what happened?
Signed: Lie, Lay, Lain!
Dear Conjugator: Sorry your teacher is a beatch. I had a few who didn't understand me. I always stemmed the tide, however. You must use guile and bribery. It may sound corny, but brighten her day and lay a shiny apple on her desk.
Addressing your query. Yes, conjugating verbs=tough gig. Nobody really cares in the business world if you speak correctly. I have worked with too many people, who are testaments. And if anyone catches you saying "I have lain in the snow before," then you will be looked upon as an outcast. You may be fired from your job or sent to a mental institution. Refrain from using the word "lain" in a sentence. It just ain't done. If perhaps you have an interview at Harvard, then it may be allowable to say "lain." Otherwise, lay down the Ipod and don't lie slightly askew in your seat, and try studying.
P.S. Please be aware that you split an infinitive in your query. And never refer to your teacher as a beatch. Teachers are people, too, with feelings.
Dear Cat: What's wrong with phrases like "closure;" "spot on;" "moving/going forward;" "it is what it is;" etc. Why the disdain?
P.S. I, too, have noticed your decline in spirit?
Signed: I Like "It Is What It Is" and Wonder Why You Don't!
Dear "What It Is!" That one I liked. "What it is." I also liked "it's all good." And "heavy," "farout," and "dude." But I'll be damned if "spot on" ever resonates from my lips. It's utterly amazing, however, how these phrases gain acceptance, and how the mass population picks up on them. I have never used the word "closure." And never will. Closure, smozure. Thanks for the query?
To my readers: Methinks I have rekindled a little spark. And thanks for all of the queries. Remember, G.P. accepts all queries. If your question/s haven't been printed, feel free to query the Catfish. At any time.
In summary: It is what it is!
Dear Cat: I have noticed lately that perhaps you have lost your spirit. No longer do you pound the keys as fervently as you once did. What's up? Has your disdain for the modern world made you a cynic? Do you have agoraphobia, afraid to meet the challenges of the day. Have you gotten older, a little slower. Where's the edginess? What happened to the irreverency? Have you lost your freakin' mind? I am a loyal reader who wants you to get it back.
Signed: I Got My Mojo Working, But It Just Don't Work On You. ( apologies to Manfred Mann. )
Dear Mojo, Thanks for the query. The Catfish will rise again, allah the Phoenix. Or perhaps he will sink farther than the Titanic. Yes, my ying hast lost its yang. Will I retrieve my spunk, my fire? Only time will tell. But as Scarlett O'Hara once mused: "Tomorrow's another day."
Dear Cat: I am struggling in English. My teacher is a real beatch. She expects us to do our homework. Participate in class, and can you believe this? She demands we sit upright in our seats. No slouching allowed. Did you ever have to put up with such abuse while attending your alma mater, Truck U.?
P.S. We are currently conjugating verbs, and I am having the hardest time knowing how to properly use all the forms of "lie." Any pointers?
P.S.S. I have noticed ( like the earlier entry ) that you've lost your verve. Lucy, what happened?
Signed: Lie, Lay, Lain!
Dear Conjugator: Sorry your teacher is a beatch. I had a few who didn't understand me. I always stemmed the tide, however. You must use guile and bribery. It may sound corny, but brighten her day and lay a shiny apple on her desk.
Addressing your query. Yes, conjugating verbs=tough gig. Nobody really cares in the business world if you speak correctly. I have worked with too many people, who are testaments. And if anyone catches you saying "I have lain in the snow before," then you will be looked upon as an outcast. You may be fired from your job or sent to a mental institution. Refrain from using the word "lain" in a sentence. It just ain't done. If perhaps you have an interview at Harvard, then it may be allowable to say "lain." Otherwise, lay down the Ipod and don't lie slightly askew in your seat, and try studying.
P.S. Please be aware that you split an infinitive in your query. And never refer to your teacher as a beatch. Teachers are people, too, with feelings.
Dear Cat: What's wrong with phrases like "closure;" "spot on;" "moving/going forward;" "it is what it is;" etc. Why the disdain?
P.S. I, too, have noticed your decline in spirit?
Signed: I Like "It Is What It Is" and Wonder Why You Don't!
Dear "What It Is!" That one I liked. "What it is." I also liked "it's all good." And "heavy," "farout," and "dude." But I'll be damned if "spot on" ever resonates from my lips. It's utterly amazing, however, how these phrases gain acceptance, and how the mass population picks up on them. I have never used the word "closure." And never will. Closure, smozure. Thanks for the query?
To my readers: Methinks I have rekindled a little spark. And thanks for all of the queries. Remember, G.P. accepts all queries. If your question/s haven't been printed, feel free to query the Catfish. At any time.
In summary: It is what it is!
Thursday, January 03, 2008
"He's Back!"
Shades of the past, "the legend of war" returns.
Too bad Don Knotts is deceased. Perhaps, he could have reprised his role as Barney Fife.
Too bad Don Knotts is deceased. Perhaps, he could have reprised his role as Barney Fife.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
"Global Warming"
It's colder than a witches body part here on the Pond. Brrrrrr! Below 30. A lot of rhetoric has been "going down" about global warming, championed by the ex v.p. Al Gore.
Is there global warming? Depends on who you talk to. My opinion. I'm no scientist and have no data, so I have no opinion. It does seem to be warmer these days, but the weather is cyclical. A friend of mine told me recently that he remembers going Christmas shopping in shorts and a t shirt 30 or more years ago. "It was hard for me to get into the Christmas spirit," he said.
According to something I heard on the radio before the holidays: Nasa corrected its position ( due to faulty arithmetic ) and said the warmest year in recorded history was 1931.
Who knows! I sure don't.
Your roving reporter, v.c.
Is there global warming? Depends on who you talk to. My opinion. I'm no scientist and have no data, so I have no opinion. It does seem to be warmer these days, but the weather is cyclical. A friend of mine told me recently that he remembers going Christmas shopping in shorts and a t shirt 30 or more years ago. "It was hard for me to get into the Christmas spirit," he said.
According to something I heard on the radio before the holidays: Nasa corrected its position ( due to faulty arithmetic ) and said the warmest year in recorded history was 1931.
Who knows! I sure don't.
Your roving reporter, v.c.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
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