Kakahead

Well here we go on vacation again.  A long drive to see Aunt Nancy, Cousin Peter, and of course Cousin Rocco.   And yes we really do have a Cousin Rocco…

“Ken,” my boss will say,  “some people are beginning to drive me a little crazy.”

Of course,  I ask him with my best Long Island accent:  “you want I should cawl my Cuzzin Rocco??”

We’re a bit smarter than when we were “kids” in our 20s or 30s… we don’t travel the whole 700 plus miles in one day.  We take our time, spend the night about half way, wake up refreshed and continue on.  Gonna stop at IKEA along the way this time, but that will still give us time to relax at the hotel in Youngstown.

The radio can get boring… the news gets depressing and the music is often the same old stuff.  Of course you can find some neat things on the dial but there are times when you’d just like to pop in a CD and enjoy the ride.  So as I write this I’m burning some discs to keep us entertained. 

Keep in mind, I’m a dinosaur.  I was born millions of years ago when radios and televisions had tubes inside them and you had to wait for them to warm up.  I consider myself privileged in this regard, though.  When I was growing up, entertainers like Abbott and Costello, George Burns and Gracie Allen, Red Skelton, Edgar Bergen & Charlie McCarthy (to name a few) were not only appearing in old movies on TV, they were still alive.

So, my lovely wife and I still love to hear the old shows every now and again.  Fast forward to the internet, where free copies of many of these old shows are available for download.  No cursing, no explicit sexual innuendos, just good clean fun. 

Because I’ve got much to do to get ready for the trip; I’m going to make this Happy Friday!!! short and sweet… but here are a few samples of what the masters did in “the good old days.”

Did you know that 7 x 13 = 28? Lou Costello proved it!



I remember being smitten by the remarkable Carmen Miranda at a very young age…

Thirteen Thousand, Eight Hundred And Seventy Days.

Four Hundred And Fifty Six Months.

Thirty Eight Years.

Thirty eight years???  Holy Moly time flies when you’re having fun.  I mean jeez, it seems like it was just a couple years ago when the Beatles first came to America on the Mayflower (or something like that).

As of Sunday, August 21, I will have the privilege of being married to the Most Beautiful Woman In The Universe for 38 years.  Now if there are any other Beautiful Women reading this, please do not despair.  Here’s why:  although it is impossible for you to compete with my Lovely Girlfriend for the title of Most Beautiful Woman In The Universe; please be very aware that all the other women in the universe are the Second Most Beautiful Woman In The Universe.  So even though you cannot be the Most Beautiful in my universe, you are now and always will be the Second Most Beautiful.

That is my professional opinion.  If you don’t believe me, just ask me some time.

For us, being married is finally getting easier.  Almost as natural as breathing, really.  However we still have a few (very few) times when it feels like we are breathing in a few bugs and they get stuck in our throats.  But after a few pittoooeys or boohoos or maybe a grunt or two, it’s all better and time to kiss and make out.  In other words, life is not always peaches and root beer.  We do disagree, but we can finally disagree without being disagreeable.  Most of the time.

Here’s a nice bonus:   SHE LETS ME KISS HER!!  Now that’s really nice, ya know??

Sometimes we are asked how we’ve managed to pull this marriage thing off.  Well here are some observations and / or suggestions I’d like to offer for your reading enjoyment:

1)  We were very good friends for several months before we started wondering what was hidden under each other’s clothing.

Q)  When we realized it was true, we made sure to tell each other “I Love You” at least once a day.

27)  Before we got married, we made verbal contracts.  Things like: “we must always tell the truth no matter what;” and “if we have kids, we can’t have just one, and no more than two.” 

B)  We go on dates.  Movies, concerts, picnics, vacations.  Sometimes it’s something simple like renting a video and taking the phone off the hook.  Or maybe even just taking the phone off the hook…

V3)  We say “please,” “thank you,” and “you’re welcome.”

#)  We hold hands often.  One of my favorite stories about this:  Our daughter’s best friend Andrea said “Look at those cute old people going into the store holding hands,” to which our daughter Jessica replied, “that’s my PARENTS!!”

8F)  I tell her she’s beautiful.  And of course, I mean it.

And last but not least,

K!)  Communicate, communicate, communicate.  Never assume.  Talk stuff over.  Big stuff, little stuff.  And be nice about it all.  God knows we live in a crazy world, there’s no need to fling fire at each other at home.

I could go on and on… suffice it to say that we’ve learned how to treat each other as if we were best friends.  That’s probably because we ARE best friends.  Hasn’t always been easy, but definitely worth it. 

Life is good.  We have enough to eat, a nice home, beautiful offspring.  Yes, the verbal contract stated two kids  They aren’t kids anymore, but they’re ours so we’ll call them “the kids” whether they like it or not.  Except to their faces… then we let them know that they are simply beautiful people.  And we tell them “I Love You” whenever we see or talk to them.

And the coolest thing is, we’re in love.  Did I mention I have the privilege of being married to the Most Beautiful Woman In The Universe?? 

These days, George’s song flows through my mind and often out of my vocal chords…
 

It’s August outside, which means the annual cosmic light show is presented by the Great Cosmic Rock Throwers of the Universe.  This of course means that everyone must run for cover so they don’t get vaporized by the falling cosmic debris that will be flying around.  Be especially vigilant on August 12 and 13 when the peak activity is supposed to be happening.

Please do not be frightened, for what I am about to relate is merely cosmic truth that has occurred annually for at least 12 and maybe even 47,000.  I just don’t know.  But it’s true and that’s all there is to it.  OK??  So don’t bother me about this ever again or I’ll start up that dead bug over there.  You see that dead bug?  Well, to the untrained eye, that bug is dead.  But all I need to do is insert these tiny little electrodes in his vinkabules and he’ll be making zucchini bread in no time.  And it will be on your conscience. I hope you’re happy now.

 Now sit back and relax, and just be aware that everything you hold dear is in danger of exploding and being zoofled to smithereens.  “Of course,” some of you are probably yelling, “he’s talking about the Perseid meteor showers!!”  Many of you who are probably  saying, “what’s the deal with this guy… has he been eating Legos or something??”  Well, for those of you who are saying that, the answer is yes, and although plastic is very chewy and not very nourishing, Legos are still one of my favorite toys.  OH WAIT, they’re TOYS!!  Not for eating!?!?!  Whoops…  

 Ok.  Back to this horrible cosmic truth I’ve been ranting about.  The Perseid meteor shower is an annual occurrence, this year the best times to look for shooting stars is after midnight on August 11 through 13.  Sure, there may be some meteorites coming in on the 10th and 14th, but the peak viewing will be on the 12th, after midnight local time.  And look for them to come out of the northeastern sky.  This year’s show may be obscured a bit by the moon because it will be lighting up the sky in a big way.  But you still may see as many as two per minute, depending on how many Burger Kings or other light pollution sources you have in your neighborhood.  You could always ask the light polluters to turn the lights off, but they may not care about any stinking shooting stars.  Gotta waste energy to make money, you know.  Gotta get that global warming furnace stoked up so my next pair of sneakers burst into flames when I walk on the superheated concrete.  Thank you very much Mr. Businessman Energy Wasting Guy Who Leaves His Lights On All Stinking Night Long.

Alright, I’m sorry.  I digress.  Something I normally never do (ya, right) …

Anyway I must take this time to please ask you to protect yourselves during the meteor showers.  Always, always wear a fireproof bathrobe while you’re outside viewing meteor showers.  You may also want to flip on the force field to protect your house from the snap, crackle, KABOOM always never happens when an 85 ton meteorite lands on your chimney.  What??  You don’t have a force field???  AH HAH!  You sold it at the flea market didn’t you??  Have you no science brains?  You won’t catch me out there with no fireproof clothing… And although we don’t have a force field, I have this aluminum bat right here.  Yup, I’m gonna be up on the roof with my modified 55 gallon steel drum overalls, bat in hand, always at the ready.  When one of those fireballs puts a bead on my house, I’m gonna take that bat and smack it into Who Knows Where.  I may also keep my stainless steel umbrella handy so I don’t get clunked by a hot meteorite. 

     I also have a heat resistant meteorite gauge mounted on the fence, right next to my rain gauge.  I want to make sure I know exactly how many inches of meteors we got during the meteor showers.  Actually the meteorite gauge is there for a selfish motive… my Honey Pie didn’t want me to get a force field because she says it’s too expensive.   Once I show her a bucket full of smoking hot meteorites she’ll change her tune by golly!!

Well, hopefully you will all be able to get to clear skies and be able to see one of nature’s wonders.  There have been some years when the Perseids have been a very awesome show.  At any rate, I’ll be up on the roof, aluminum bat in hand, hoping to God that we don’t have any lightning.  

Perhaps I’ve exaggerated a bit about the danger.  But then, if you go out unprotected and get vaporized by a 729 ton meteorite, don’t come crying to me.

I hear some of the larger meteorites carry mechanical monsters from space!! Help us, Superman!!

I’ve been taking work Way Too Seriously Again Lately.  Some of the things that go on there and around the world in general make absolutely no sense.

Therefore, in an effort to make even less sense, I offer this profound yet utterly nonsensical invitation to escape your inner knives and harbor no further garages against your fellow mange.

As none of you have heard frequently, Toyden Amookalobbnis of Quality Infusions, Inc. will be arriving soon to inspect the cambernackles.   Please ensure that all edible click wrapper standards are well concealed and thoroughly hyphenated before Toyden’s infestation.  

During this exercise, please note that cambernackles will be inspected on the 3rd Tuesday of each week, twice monthly, with liberty and justice for all.  That information may be shared freely with any and all individuals whose names rhyme with “lumberjack,” as they would appear when divided by the pertinent day of the month.  

For example:  on the 1st Tuesday of 2019, the week begins with the letter R.  Therefore, you may share this with people like:

Reek Cumberjack

Rum Cambersnack

Rink Snanderjunk

And of course Roopy Wofflenick.  

Note that the inverse modification standard never applies.

If you have any questions regarding this modulation, please insert two nickles and eleven dimes.  After all, your toaster is probably orange with chrome bide flenders.

I’m sure none of you are wondering by now whether the sky has been removed from the Ionized Bugle Machines (IBM).  There’s probably a good chance that someday I can divulge the particulars of that molecular substation, but this is no time for soaking baby toys in cups of sesame oil.

I ate a bug the other day.  It had very little flavor, and really was not as pleasant as one might surmise.   This required minimal effort:  I opened my mouth, a small insect flew in, and I closed my mouth again.  I tried to pitoo, then kerchack, but when I said “orgkkk” the swallowing mechanism switched on and down the hatch it went as I Bit My Tongue (IBMT). Possibly there was some struggle on the part of the poor bug, as I am somewhat sure I felt griggling actions as the very small Insect Bit The Dust On The Way Down My Esophagus (IBTDOTWDME).

Now of course we must discuss this business of intermediate tree watering schedules.   Please do not go there with me ever again.  Why would you insist on watering the trees with that Jell-O dispenser I shall never understand.   Don’t you know that pressurized prune skins can injure cats and other flying rodents?  We really need to talk about your compulsion to slide wildly through the Baked Apple / Rhubarb Fritters (BA/RF).

OK.  I really must go to the store now.  They have metal objects on sale, and one can never have too many metal objects.

Thank you for not licking my car.  Unless you did.   In which case I will stop.  Writing in incomplete sentences.  Which cannot be sentences at all.  Since they are incomplete.  So therefore they must.  Be sentence fragments.  So there.

Thank you,

Norvis Pimpleburger

Supervisor,

Feline Antler Inspection Dept.

“If you want something done, don’t remove the cat’s antlers.” – Milton Wildpockets
 
“And now for something completely different,” as Mr. Cleese of Monty Python would say… Never heard of Flip the Frog before but here he is from 1933.