…. Mizzus and I were invited to a dinner party recently. I rank such ordeals right in there with root canals and visits to the DMV and to “the cable company”. “Can’t I stay home and shoot myself in the eyes with a staple gun?” I entreated to no avail. I’m a darn fine “hang out with friends” kinda guy but I never claimed to be a “people person”. These days I’m REALLY not “a people person”. I made a D in inane chit-chat (and I had a copy of the final!).
Baby boomers decry the onset of getting old. It manifests itself in all sorts of stereotypical ways involving bodily functions of seeing, hearing, walking, sleeping and urinating among others. I’m finding two related advantages of getting older.
- My “give a damn” quotient is sooo low it no longer registers on a dip stick. A psychological mechanic might check me and ask “when was the last time you gave a rat’s patoot what people you don’t know thought about what you think?” My answer would be “the day I stopped asking them.”
- I have MAYBE another 20 or so years on this planet. As civilization does its “Thelma & Louise over the cliff” I don’t need a parachute. There are way too many grains of sand on the beach and my spoon is too small.
I am incredibly comfortable with who I am and what my “core beliefs and principles” are. If MY core beliefs and principles make you uncomfortable remember the key word is “MY”. As for YOUR core beliefs and principles …. that key word is YOUR.
I label myself “an ultra right-wing extremist” but only if you insist on knowing …. and to avoid the wishy-washy PC label game. If you want to be …. “a progressive” …. “a moderate” ….. “an independent” …. “an intellectual” ….. “a salad fork” …. or my all-time favorite wishy washy label …. “a social liberal and a fiscal conservative” then have it tattooed across your forehead. Spare me the pious proclamation.
Call me any name you want to. To my face or behind my back …. curl your lip and spew spittle when you do. But to avoid a really nasty scene DO NOT ASK ME:
“How can you possibly believe/support/agree with ___ ?”
Before we would ignite that short fuse I will have already told you I would really really really rather not discuss “politics” but will gladly discuss “sports” or “books I’ve read” or “my favorite Cartwright brother” (Hoss). But if you ignore my polite suggestion and insist on asking “How can you possibly support ____ ?” The lingering memory among the other attendees at that dinner party and/or tailgate ain’t gonna be the potato salad or the bloody marys.
A wild-eyed clueless coed shoved a “register to vote” pamphlet in my face in Polk Place on Saturday. I told her I planned to vote early “and at least 12 times” but not for anyone she would be voting for.” She blinked. I laughed. She backed off.
It’s debatable whether or not I “look normal”. A bartender in the Star Wars cantina might think so albeit there were no aliens wearing seersucker in there that I recall. I gave up even wanting to “be normal” at least a decade ago. By then I had amassed enough “pals” that allowing for normal attrition thru death, divorce and indebtedness I could likely have someone to call at 3 AM if I’m stalled on the side of the road in a blizzard without a spare tire. That possibility and sharing a lot of laffs is pretty much “what friends are for” isn’t it? I’m opting for cremation so even 6-8 pallbearers are not needed.
So now you know how happy I was to “meet the Jayhawk guy” at that party.
Mizzus is a pretty quick study. After 24 years she knows taking me to a dinner party with quite imperfect strangers is a bit like juggling nitroglycerine in the dark while wearing oven mitts and then having to scratch your nose. She keeps a wary eye on my proximity to breakable home furnishings especially antiques. She knows my pre-fight routine. Even better, she can analyze a crowded room really well and steers me away from arrogant dimwits and pompous know-it-alls.
Once asked “Is BobLee OK?” she assured the hostess “Compared to who? If you mean do you need to call 911, no, probably not yet.” Actually I’m like our cat when she sees the vacuum cleaner, I simply disappear if that is an option. If the hostess has invited any “full of themselves Progressives” I map out an exit strategy as I peruse the bumperstickers in the driveway.
We walked in with the usual “try and be nice” entreaty from Mizzus. It musta been “a God thing” that the couple nearest the dark corner I intended to occupy mentioned the Mizzou game. Actually I think Mizzus brought it up when asked “howsabout those games yesterday?” The Jayhawk guy noted he was “a KU Jayhawker”. I rejoiced knowing I could do 20 minutes of snappy repartee on Sticker-gate, “I’m staying”, Devine & Pepper, Chase Daniel and KU’s fat coach. Turns out this guy, in addition to high affability, was on the KU freshman team with Wilt in the mid 50s. He actually knew interesting stuff which, while rare in such a setting, always enlivens a conversation.
We morphed thru football and basketball and ended with me doing some Randy Parton and satanic ritual material. Two hours and not a single “How can you possibly _____ ?” Good thing too since this house had some really nice breakable objects de’art. The brats were delicious.
Follow up to that last column …. Kenan’s Jumbo was hit by lightning which fried its little Jumbo circuits. Not sure how to remedy that but maybe Cocoa Puff will have a solution. As for the rinky dink high school sound system …. that’s been a Kenan staple longer than the pee walls and The Alamo. To be truthful I hardly notice it any more.
The sneak aerial attack on Wally Wade has been enshrined in the Triangle Museum of Glass House Stone Throwing where it joins “the peeing students in Carter-Finley” and the Cameron Crazies.
McNeese State was located in Lake Charles LA but was last seen floating down Main Street of Pine Bluff AR.
Did you notice ….
Tricky Ricky Neuheisal is a dead ringer for
what notorious buddy of Wally Cleaver ?
If you want to know how I feel about Sarah Palin after the first shots have been fired you’ve got to become a Platinum Pal. Over 100 new P-Pals signed up over the past few days. Nothing has happened that wasn’t totally predictable and it will get MUCH MUCH worse. If she can’t handle it then she was a poor choice.
Spunky Sarah had the best line when asked “are you ready for the vicious media attacks?” …. Sarah replied “Do you know the only difference between a Hockey Mom and a pit bull? ….. Lipstick.” This pistol-packin’ mamma might be tuff enuff after all. We’ll see won’t we.
It is our intention to use Platinum Pals for the HIGHLY CLASSIFIED political stuff. But that does not mean NO POLITICS NO TIME on this site. I know what its like to get stuff you don’t want to even have to bother to DELETE. Trust me I get a lot of it. EVERYTHING including “the weather” is political now. This has always been a “free” site so there are no promises about its content. Unsubscribing is simple …. BUT it may take several days to take effect.