If I had one wish to make for this Holiday Season, it would be for everyone in the Universe to be as blessed as we are. We are safe and warm in our home. We have plenty of food. We have cars that are paid for; and we’re healthy enough to drive them. We have family and friends whom we love dearly. We are happy most of the time; and when we have struggles we’ve been able to work through them or at least accept what is happening.

In other words, we are wealthy (but not rich).

I remember being asked what I wanted out of life when my Beautiful Girlfriend and I were first married. Although we were strongly advised against it, we married at the ripe old age of 19. Due to some rather distressing challenges from our parents we were ready to strike out on our own, come what may. And we were very sure we’d make it through thick and thin. Having grown up during the 1960’s, we were repulsed by rampant consumerism; and often referred to ourselves as “spoiled Americans.” Actually, we still say that. So my pat answer to the question, “What do you want out of life?” has remained the same since the very early days of our marriage: “all I want in life is the love of a beautiful woman, enough land to grow some food, and a kick-ass stereo.”

I’ve acquired all those wants many moons ago. I’m very grateful to say that the Beautiful Woman who has put up with me for the past 48 years is still my One and Only. After 47 years of practice (we dated a little over a year before marriage), we’ve become pretty good at this soulmate stuff. Yes, we made it through thick and thin; but over the years our thin selves have gotten a bit thicker, if you know what I mean.

Hurray for comfort food!!

So I have no wants. And all my needs have been met many times over. As I mentioned before, I consider myself a “spoiled American.” Some of us get together from time to time and discuss life, the universe, and everything. Gratitude is often one of the topics, and a friend of mine likes to say, “98% of the world’s population would love to have the problems I have.” Well maybe his math is a bit over the top, but suffice it to say that there are way too many folks out there who are not nearly as fortunate as we are.

As I sit here writing this in my comfortable home, I’m sending prayers out to all who are suffering; whether from the pandemic or any myriad of life’s other challenges. This time of year inevitably finds many of us in reflection; whether we’re chuckling from a happy memory or crying our eyes out during one of our favorite tear-jerking Christmas movies.

I sincerely hope all who read this are well; and that the coming year brings better times. If we all work together and do our best to spread love and kindness, 2021 can turn out to be a pretty amazing year.

Speaking of tear-jerking Christmas movies, this has been my favorite since I was a child. And yes, at the end, I cry like a baby.

The turkey is gone!! The turkey is gone!! May the bells chime happy clanging of no more turkey!!

Dunno about you folks, but at this house we really love turkey. So of course, the Thanksgiving meal is always welcome around here. We had ours last Sunday; and as usual I was the chief cook: sweet potatoes, regular mashed potatoes and gravy, Brussels sprouts from the garden, stuffin’ muffins, a relish tray of black and green olives, sweet and dill pickles, and even some pickled okra for a little variety, and of course pumpkin pie.

Oh, and there was this 21 pound bird…

I may have overestimated a bit this time. I figured with all 7 of us, which included two rapidly growing grandsons, we’d need some extra meat. Well some extra is OK… but HOLY MOLY we had a lot left over! I surmised that all that surplus turkey would be very enjoyable in the form of “Leftover Delight,” as Mom used to call it. Well when I got all done deboning the bird, it was quite obvious that my Beautiful Girlfriend and I would get just a wee bit weary of eating turkey for 13 days in a row.

After the initial turkey dinner leftovers; I tried to switch it up a bit. You know, turkey salad sandwiches, stuff like that. However, I apparently pushed my poor Honey Pie over the too-doggoned-much threshold and when I asked if she wanted any turkey the other day she shot back with an emphatic “Noooo!!!” Understandable… so we took a break for a couple days. Well today we had the last of the turkey. And yes, it was in the form of turkey salad.

Perhaps next year I could try branching out a bit with the turkey entrées. Some ideas that rattled around in my silly brain today are:

Pickled Turkey

Turkey Waffles

Turkey On A Stick

Wild Turkey Surprise (a nod to Bugs Bunny)

Turkey Omelette

Peanut Butter and Turkey Jelly (yuck!!)

Turkey Ice Cream

Spaghetti and Turkey Meatballs

Imitation Turkey (exactly the same as imitation crab, only with turkey!)

Turkey Kaboom (turkey with a surprise firecracker)

Those of you who know me are aware that I could go on and on, and of course the “dishes” would become sillier and sillier. So I’ll stop now. Please forgive me. Or don’t!! But whatever you do, please don’t tell my Lovely Bride that there’s still some of that leftover turkey in the freezer.

At least, not for awhile.

Well this week’s video has nothing to do with turkey. I switched it up you see… to um… chicken.

I always get a little gooshy around this time of year. With the holidays upon us, I can’t help but reflect on past years. I have much to be thankful for, and even though I’m grateful most of the time, the holiday season deepens the appreciation somehow. A cultural thing I guess.

After turning 18, I entered into “party hearty” mode. That lasted for 17 years… what began as “having fun” evolved into fun plus problems, and then finally my partying habits produced very little fun but very large problems. Considering all the “fun” I had literally poisoning myself, I’m pretty lucky to be alive, let alone happy and healthy. Amazing how much better life got after I was finally willing to grow up!!

These days, I still “party hearty,” but it has absolutely nothing to do with intoxicants. Nope, none of that monkey business anymore. Instead, sharing a meal with close friends; maybe watching a movie with them, now those are good times. And of course with all these good times, very happy memories are made.

Thanksgiving kicks off a season of remembering too. I once heard it said that the best way to honor the dead is to love the living. Another way, in my book anyway, is to relate a story about a lost loved one that makes others smile. One of my favorite stories I tell around this time of year is when our dear friend Lew and his Beautiful Wife came over for what turned out to be his last Thanksgiving on this Earth. It was my turn to make Thanksgiving dinner, and Lew noticed I was cooking Brussels sprouts.

“Oh Ken! I see you’re making Brussels sprouts,” he said.

“Yeah Lew, you like Brussels sprouts?” I replied,

“F*&% NO!!” he exclaimed; at which point we all burst into laughter.

We’ve had Thanksgiving at his Beautiful Wife’s house every year since then, and every year she’d make “F.N. Brussels Sprouts” in honor of her dear departed hubby. We use the initials because there are grandchildren, you see.  This year, however, because of COVID, we’ve agreed that it might not be too safe to dine at our Beautiful Friend’s house.  Holy POOP I hate this damn virus!!  Hopefully next year we can resume the tradition.

Another dear departed friend is our friend Tommy, who passed away all too suddenly a few years ago.  He too had a marvelous sense of humor, and I’ve been honoring his memory thusly:

“What do you call a deer with no eyes?” he asked,

“I give up,” I said,

“No eye deer!!” he chuckled; and continued: “how about a deer with no eyes and no legs?”

“Dunno,” I smiled.

“Still no eye deer!!” And of course the grand finale: “How about a deer with no eyes, no legs, and no genitalia?”

“What?” I asked.

“Still no f*&%ing eye deer!!” and of course we both laughed. Naturally only “big people” get to hear the last part of the joke, and I always ask permission before telling the naughty part.

As I relate these stories, my memories of other loved ones lost over the years flood into my brain. Mom and Dad, grandparents, even cousins… and of course friends and yes, even children of friends. These memories, coupled with all those mushy holiday movies, will often make my eyes leak at the drop of a hat. Memories and gratitude. That’s what slams home the holidays for me. I’m so doggoned fortunate it’s ridiculous.  Thank you God for everything.

I sincerely hope all of you have a safe and enjoyable Thanksgiving.  And if you are able, please donate to your favorite charity so they can help those who are struggling.

Now for the silly video.  This is an oldie but a goodie from Tex Avery about a turkey who outfoxed the hunter; but they both got it in the end…

Here in Beautiful West Michigan, Autumn is starting to wane a bit.  Most of the leaves have fallen; so there are quite a few naked trees running around.  Well OK, maybe they’re not really running; but most are definitely naked.  If you have a lawn, Autumn can be a very frustrating time.  Seems like we get a batch of leaves off the grass, everything looks nice, and then BOOM!! a hefty wind shows up and blows another gob of leaves all over the place.  Then we get our rakes, blowers, garden tractors (and if you’re lucky leaf vacuum trailer thingy) and go clean up the mess.

When I was a kid, seems like everyone burned their leaves. Not only a big waste of wonderful fertilizer, but a big source of air pollution. I remember when I was little, I lost much hair and eyebrows when I jumped into a leaf pile my father made. He sternly warned me to jump in BEFORE the fire was set next time! OK, maybe I didn’t really do that.  But hey, anyone remember leaf smoke filling the autumn air? Those were the good (?) old days when no one was very particular about particulates. Leaf burning is somewhat rare now. Instead, many of them are bagged up for the gobbich man. Hey, nobody asked me, but my two cents is that leaves are NOT gobbich, man!

Being an organic gardener, I have been a leaf collector for many years. Before I discovered the magic gold mine of free compost at our local landfill transfer station (affectionately called “the dump”), I would pull my trailer all over the neighborhoods and gather up bagged leaves.  Some people gave me rather strange looks when I parked my trailer in front of their house to make off with their leaves.  When someone was in the yard, I’d always ask first; and then they’d say, “Sure!” Then they’ll lead me to the other 195 bags in their back yard.

Leaf collectors are becoming more numerous now; as more folks realize their value in the garden as fertilizer and mulch. Not only that, a bunch of us leaf collectors get together at the old Breakfast Burp Cafe and trade leaves on Saturday mornings.  All of us wear masks and are socially distanced, of course.  My “prize leaf ” is a 1971 maple that really makes me proud. A nice bowl of leaves are really great with milk and sugar too! High fiber.

OK, I may be fooling again…

As I’ve already mentioned, and much to my Beautiful Honey-Pie’s chagrin, I would actually gather leaves from other people’s yards.  I’ve learned my lesson though; and in the interest of domestic harmony I make sure our yard is leafless before I go looking for more.  However, we do have some friends that bring me their leaves!!  This is a wonderful thing!! Initially they expressed concern that “we mostly just have oak.”  I reassured them that I take every kind of leaves I can get my mitts on: maple, pine needles, and yes even oak. Contrary to popular opinion, there’s nothing wrong with oak leaves in your garden; especially when they are composted. After 38 years of building up what used to be basically beach sand, my garden soil is nice and black, thank you very much.  This year, all the leaves in our yard got ground up nicely with our garden tractor / leaf bagger combo.   I put them directly into the garden, and got pretty much the whole thing covered with a nice layer of mulch.  Also tilled several loads into one of the beds; into which garlic will soon be planted.

Call me loony if you must, but yes, when Autumn arrives I really do love leaves.  I love them so much that I’ve unofficially renamed Autumn “Fertilizer Season.”  Whatever doesn’t get tilled into the soil is used for mulch; which keeps weeds at bay and prevents the soil from losing moisture.  I’ve also learned to spread a healthy layer of leaves over a bed of carrots to keep them fresh through the winter.  I just mark the bed with sticks before the snow flies, and when I want carrots I carefully shovel the snow off first, then scoop off the leaves, and pick carrots.  I get a couple more sticks and mark where I left off; then cover the rest back up with the leaves, and also put the snow back.  I’ve used this technique to enjoy carrots “on demand” several times, and when I have a good year I can have fresh carrots pretty much all winter long.

Well, cold weather will be here before we know it; and I’m absolutely certain that this is exactly the way all the woodland creatures will prepare…

Once upon a time, there was no way of understanding the amount of stress rapture which many (or most?) of us endure in these modern times. And if you take that amount of stress time, and multiply it by 13.7, you not only get an overuse of the word “time,” but also can even time how long it takes to type time three hundred and thirty four times.

What time is it again??

So there I was, watching the news, and trying not to cry too much or barf on the floor. You know, there’s so many storms and COVID monsters and political poop toss and on the other hand you have 5 fingers (I hope!!) and both of your fingers get caught in the toaster while the blender is playing “I Shot The Sheriff” but maybe that’s all a bunch of malarkey but you know I can get really stressed out from too much yikes and Oh My God and holy moly this run-on is getting way too long!!

Now I’ll use yet another run-on sentence to turn the page to the Retirement Days of My Great Happiness, because they are quite the opposite of stressful work days; and I need to stay grateful that I am now retired and have a steady (albeit much smaller) income that all the friendly Medicare scammers and make-a-believe car warranty thief people want to take rom me; so then it’s time to breathe… breathe… and then suddenly my friend Zignop has a computer problem and calls me to say “the trees are too noisy and I can’t extract data from this electronic burnishing tool;” so then I’m expected to fix their computer for free or maybe 12 cents and holy cow someone left a package of M&Ms on the stairs is anybody looking???

Yes.

Breathe…

Breathe…

OK. Better.

So! There are only 1,238 ways to deal with such stress. One way I’ve embraced is to sing. You know the popular saying… something like, “sing as if nobody’s dancing,” or maybe it’s “dance if nobody’s singing” I think. I really do love to sing. And I sing a variety of stuff as I’m walking about, and it helps me to relieve stress. Sometimes it will be a Beatles tune, sometimes Lorde, sometimes Al Jolson… and sometimes, much to the amusement of my grandsons, it will be completely silly. An example:

“I’m keeping a sandwich in my nostrils for youuu…

And when I take it out it will be covered in glue…”

This of course is sung to the tune of “I’m Keeping A Sandwich In My Nostrils For You.”

Other times I will walk off to a small hiding area and belt out a very loud Tarzan yell (and I do a pretty good one if I must say so myself). Some folks find this very amusing, others run for the bathroom.

Bottom line is: if I allow stress to rent too much space in my kidneys, it will harm me badly. When my Serenity Alarm goes off, I better get busy and smell the donuts; or I may say something unkind to someone. Even worse, I may be unkind to someone I actually like!! Either way, I’d need to apologize, and even though crow is a dish better served warm, I try hard to avoid barking at people’s elbows. It’s always better to be kind and try to be happy than to be bitter and succumb to the yucky poohs.

So my friends, there you have it. If you need any more I’ll sell you some at market prices, multiplied by 13.7

Thank you for your “time.”

So… speaking of stress management, here’s some fun stuff that I hope you’ll enjoy as much as I have over the years.

And we’re getting tired of it…

Unless you live in a cave, you’ve heard that our President has tested positive for COVID-19. I’d like to take this opportunity to ask EVERYONE to pray for him and his family to have a safe and quick recovery.

When writing “Happy Friday!!!” I normally stay far away from politics. I figure everyone hears more than enough from other media without me honking my horn. However, even though I am not a fan of the current administration’s policies, I am rather saddened when I see folks on the interwebs spreading ill will; regardless of to whom it is directed. I’m one of those old hippie freaks who still lives by such mantras as “make love, not war, ” and of course the refrain from one of my favorite Beatle songs, “All You Need Is Love.”

We need to heal our planet; and that will never materialize unless we all do our best to live by the Golden Rule.

Anyway, as a little reminder, I thought I’d republish this “Happy Friday!!!” that I posted back in June. Dunno about you, but my Beautiful Girlfriend and I are getting very weary of COVID-19. We all need to work together to get this nasty bug under control.

So here’s the rerun…

During prehistoric times when I was a kid, there were no video games or interwebs; so we had to find creative ways to amuse ourselves. Often, games of tag were morphed into various forms. One such form was to tag someone as “it” and proclaim loudly that the person had cooties. “Aaaaggghhh!!! Kenny’s got cooties!!! Run!!!” And we would scatter like wild little animals to avoid becoming “it.”

There was a more serious (and even repulsive) meaning back in those days, as many adults of the time referred to head lice as cooties. However, it would seem that the childish notions eventually won out, as evidenced by the arrival of The Game of Cootie; which involved constructing a cootie from parts that were garnered via the rolling of a die. These days, to say that someone or some thing has cooties is a way of expressing a dislike or perhaps even disgust toward that person or thing.

Now here we are in the midst of a pandemic. People all over the globe are getting killed by this deadly virus called COVID-19. By now we’ve all heard the guidelines to prevent contracting and spreading the virus. Here in Michigan, our Governor drew sharp criticism for issuing executive orders to prevent a bad situation from becoming worse. Her willingness to make tough decisions based on scientific evidence has paid off: the rate of new disease cases has fallen dramatically. Things are looking better, and slowly but surely the state is opening back up.

My wife and I tuned our brains into all the precautions very early for two simple reasons: 1) she has a preexisting lung illness and 2) we are in the “high risk” age group (over 65). We still wear a mask when we go to the store; and diligently wash or sanitize our hands and other objects when we’ve been outside our home. We’re also very selective as to which other humans we allow into our home. If we are not completely confident that they are following the guidelines; we make sure we minimize contact or at the very least we maintain social distance.

My Beautiful Girlfriend (a.k.a. my wife) and our Beautiful Daughter are both nurses. They know how to stay safe; which means they know what’s OK and what’s not OK. It has only been recently that we were able to visit with our grandchildren. And even more recently, hugging was finally allowed (no smooches!!). We have a list of “safe people” which includes our son, daughter, son in law, grandchildren, and a very small number of friends.

Since the opening up of various businesses, etc. we have noticed an increased number of people who don’t wear masks. There are also gatherings that are taking place; some of which are not being very mindful of social distancing. While we’d love to join the fun and have everything return to normal; we are holding back and remaining cautious. My Beautiful Girlfriend has often referred to me as her “social butterfly.” I’m the one who welcomes new friends and new social situations. But this COVID-19 stuff is serious business. It would likely kill my Lovely Bride. Therefore, until we each get a proven vaccine; we’ll continue to assume that everyone still has cooties.

Hope all of you are well; and hope you stay safe. This is not a game!

Well OK, these videos are about games…

As the years whiz by, my relationship with inanimate objects continues to evolve. I remember when I approached adulthood, questions were tossed back and forth between me and my friends about what material success might look like. When asked, my answer was formulated pretty quickly: “the only wants I have are the love of a beautiful woman, a house on enough land to grow some food, and a kick-ass stereo.” My wants have long been fulfilled; so there’s really nothing I want.

So… if my wants have been fulfilled, there’s no need to have more, right? Sounds like a nice theory. In practice, though, some objects seem to have magically come home with me from various stores. Things like tools, car parts, jars, screws, nuts, washers, toasters, microwave ovens, TVs… you know, STUFF. And yes I’ll admit it, we have TOO MUCH STUFF.

Sheesh!!

What started out as a nicety of having disposable income has become a menagerie of clutter. I probably have just about everything I need to do home fix-it projects; but whenever I go to repair something, I can’t find the stuff I need. And that’s not because I don’t have it, because I probably do. I just can’t find it. So what do I do? After a lengthy dissertation about what I need; followed by various nasty words grumbled as I turn junk filled shelves inside out, I go to the store and buy what I needed. Then of course I put the new stuff down, go back to use it, but can’t find it for an hour or so.

More nasty words.

I’ll pick up a drill, pull the trigger… nothing. No worky. Change the battery, still nothing. Then I speak to the drill: “doggone it!! What’s the matter with you?? You worked fine when I put you away a few months ago!!” Tried to fix it but no go. Off to buy a new one (and yes, I still have the old one; and am not sure why). So now my relationship with objects is shifting to one sided conversation. They never answer me, and that of course is a very good thing.

Although I had a pretty good career in IT, my technology mantra became: “I hate computers!” When they refuse to do my bidding, I still utter that today. I’ve been known to issue computers verbal commands while trying to figure out something weird. I’ll gaze at the screen while typing, then say something like, “listen you stupid thing… don’t you know I’m sick of this??” And of course I receive no answer. Although I’m retired, I still utter the “I hate computers” mantra; and now I’ve opened the scope so it applies to anything that resembles a device.

Too much stuff, too much stuff, too much stuff. Stuff has become so ingrained in my daily life, that I sometimes go into a trance while transporting an object from point A to point B. Example: I made a nice but simple breakfast for my Beautiful Girlfriend. Eggs over easy, some orange juice, toast, and a little fruit on the side. I go to put the toaster away and the trance begins; then I realize I’m trying to put the toaster in the microwave. Doesn’t fit! Doesn’t go there!! Then I laugh at myself and wonder if my brain is failing. I felt better when my Lovely Honey Pie took a turn with the toaster a week or so later and wanted to put it away in the fridge.

Am I possessed by my possessions?? I’m starting to think so! It’s a conspiracy I tell ya!! My stuff is out to get me!!