Please turn off the cooler in time for
Hallowe’en. Supposed to freeze again tonight, and according to The
Weather People, there’s a possibility of rain and maybe even snow on
Hallowe’en. This does not amuse me. I would much prefer 60 degrees
with some sunshine until the sun goes down when the evening
approaches sunset; which usually happens right after the sun goes
down in the evening when the darkness begins so we can go
trick-or-treating with the grandkids and not have to freeze our
bazookeys off while they get lots of nice candy and we get to shiver
and avoid moisture as it falls from the sky in an effort to moisten
our nether regions while we conjure up a nice, scary run-on sentence.
Me, A Name I call Myself.
Dear Home Owners,
When we bring the grandkids to your
home, please toss in some extra chocolate for us older folks. We
really like chocolate. I know the old saying, “variety
is the spice of life,” but I’m pretty sure that refers to a variety
of chocolaty yummy things that may or may not have nuts and other
confectionery remarkables. Also, since I am retiring in a few
months, feel free to summon me just after the kids leave your house
with their goodies and offer me nice surprises like $20 bills and
perhaps a few gift certificates to local stores. I promise not to
threaten to stomp your flower beds or try to teach your pets to speak
German like I did last year.
A Very Humble Freckle Faced Old Fart
Thank GOD for all of youse youngsters!!
How else would we get the opportunity to slosh around in rain and
snow and watch youse kids smile bigly as you get all the neat treats
from all these houses? Oh what?? Yes, I did see that cool witch
costume that lady wore when she came to the door. Wait… say what??
The guy in the brick house has skulls on his lawn that are all lit
up?? Way cool. Do what now?? Oh… I saw that smashed pumpkin back
there, yeah… not sure why anyone would want to do that. Pardon
me?? Wow, yeah!! You got quite a haul of goodies there.
So hey kids, you know what? Youse are
the reason for the season, when it comes right down to it. Thank you
for showing us “adults” how to have fun during any kind of
weather. Actually, thank you all just for being who you are. We are
very fortunate to have you with us here on this planet.
Because I’m old enough to remember when the Beatles came to the U.S. on the Mayflower, I’m also able to remember that 1969 was a pretty big year. So many really BIG things in the news! As with any other year, some of the news was pretty horrible. I’d rather not mention those stories if you don’t mind; these days I really need to maintain a positive attitude. Instead, some of the more positive stories were things like the Apollo 11 moon landing, and the New York Mets winning the World Series. Oh and yeah, and there was a pretty big music festival called Woodstock.
During that summer I was 15, and of
course I was paying close attention to the counterculture and the
world of popular music. My interest in all such happenings actually
sprouted several years earlier, when my grandparents gave me an 8
transistor radio for my 8th birthday (1962). Radio
provided a gateway to the world at large; and I kept that thing on
with great regularity. God bless our mother, she always made sure I
had a working 9 volt battery.
We were definitely a media driven family. By that I mean that the TV was always on; and when it wasn’t, there was the radio. We also had subscriptions to Time and Life magazines; so we had plenty of opportunities to keep up with current events. The 60s saw our country in some upheaval due to numerous protests. Large crowds were marching for causes like peace, civil rights, gender equality, and environmental concerns. Music of the day was evolving from doo wop to rock ‘n roll to psychedelic sounds. My mind was being strongly influenced by all of it.
And I was by no means alone.
From where I and many of my peers
stood, a lot of what the crap that was going on in the world made
absolutely no sense. Pollution was destroying our air, water and
soils. Also, strong dependence on the use of poisonous chemicals
for pest and weed control was harming Mother Nature. War was killing
children and other living things. And to be “successful,” you
needed to be a Caucasian male. So protests and marches were staged
as efforts to raise consciousness and hopefully change things for the
Some progress was made; but
unfortunately greed, ignorance, and intolerance seem to have gained
some ground over the last few years. Mother Nature is still being
treated very badly; and those interested in maintaining the status
quo are sparing no effort to prevent meaningful action that could
save our planet. Racial intolerance and gender inequality still rob
our souls of the peace and love our Creators intended for us.
So today’s headlines are abuzz with reminders that fifty years ago today, some 400,000 people were gathered for “3 Days Of Peace, Love, and Music.” The promoters were in no way prepared for the number of people who would arrive at what quickly became a free event for those who didn’t have tickets. Sanitation issues, scarce availability of food and water, and many other difficulties plagued the event; yet no violence erupted, and only 2 people died (one of an overdose, one killed accidentally by a tractor). Nearly a half million people gathered and showed the world that peace and love, in spite of adverse conditions, were indeed possible. There are still many children of the 60’s who cling to the belief that living in peace and love is more than just a dream. It’s a necessity.
As Joni Mitchell’s famous song proclaims, “we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.”
Something has gone afoul over the
years. My body somehow seems to be in some sort of rebellion against
activity!! And the rebellion seems to be getting more and more
vociferous as time passes. This probably has been happening
gradually over the years, but seems like it’s a bit more frequent
these days. Might be due to becoming a sexagenarian 5 years ago.
Five years!! Sheesh!! By the way, if any of youse “youngstahs”
are reading: no, a sexagenarian is not a
person of a generic gender. What?? You knew that??
there I was, minding my own business, 5 years ago, turning 60, and
thinking, “wow, this is kinda weird!! My brain says I’m in my 30s
but my body is not looking that way at all!! And what the HECK is
all this hair growing in my ears?? And the balding… sheesh, is the
hair migrating or something?? And my joints seem to think they need
to report with a ** POP ** every
time I move!! And sometimes it hurts me awreddy!!”
my brain thing said exactly those things.
I’m 65. Sheesh again!!! I hear my ankles pop when I get out of bed.
My hip hurts and I don’t know why. I lifted something that wasn’t
even heavy, and my wrist has pain like someone ran it through with a
giant ice pick. I go to bed, maybe take some aspirin, and feel fine
in the morning. Then I go to do something else that never bothered
me and something else says
ouch now!! My Beautiful Girlfriend (the one who let me marry her 45
years ago) has similar happiness too. We suffer together, and offer
each other consolation and pain relievers.
should not happen to gentle people like us!!
Sixty five years old… wow. You know what that means, right?? Yep… I was 15 when Woodstock was happening. Oh, you didn’t think about that one? Well the 50th anniversary of that awesome event comes next week. So… 65… you know what that means, right?? Yep… pretty soon I’ll be dialing M for Medicare. Holding off till I’m 66 since my employer provides coverage until I retire. And wow… 65… as I tell all the “kids” (people much younger than me): I can clearly remember when The Beatles came to America on the Mayflower!! It was pretty doggoned exciting really.
yes, I’m getting old now. I’m staying grateful though; I’m still
physically able to do what I did when I was 30. Sometimes it takes
longer, and sometimes it hurts. Sometimes both. But I don’t have to
look far to realize that there are many, many souls on this planet
that are way worse off than me. I’m blessed to be able to say I’m a
very fortunate person.
it’s getting late outside, and I’ll be going to bed soon. Tomorrow
is another day that I’m sure will be full of more snap, crackle, and
pop adventures. That’s right friends, my body is starting to sound
like a big bowl of Kellogg’s Rice Crispies.
No added milk required!!
Being old isn’t so bad… just hope I don’t end up like The Old Man Of The Mountain…
We love to feed the birds; and have…
um… lemme see… five feeders. Two for the hummingbirds, one suet
feeder for the woodpeckers (and whoever else shows up), one filled
with thistle seed for the finches, and one full of mixed seeds for
everybody else. All except the mixed seeds feeder require visitors
to land and feed directly on the feeder. The mixed seeds are a
Almost all birds will visit the seeds
feeder at one time or another. Some, like rose breasted grosbeaks,
are dainty and perch on the little ledge to get their meals. They
just nibble out of the little tray and then will find a nugget of
choice and fly away with it. Others, like blue jays, will toss seeds
out of the feeder until they find what they want. We call blue jays
the “punk rockers” of birds because of their flamboyant plumage
and mannerisms. They and others like starlings and grackles used to
annoy us greatly with their dumping of the seeds; but then we
realized that they give all the ground feeding birds a nice
smorgasbord from which to choose.
Only one problem with all that seed on
the ground. It attracts mammals. Bunnies, squirrels, and even
raccoons will stop at the base of the feeder and get their fill.
That can be cute if they all behave themselves, but until we took
several “anti-squirrel” measures, we’d often come home to a
feeder that was full in the morning but emptied to the ground by
afternoon. Thankfully, that’s no longer a problem.
There’s one “cute” little critter
species, however, that has become quite an annoyance.
They’re cute alright. Kinda colorful
markings too. But if you are married and your wife has an interest
in raising flowers in the vicinity of the bird feeder, they can
become quite a nuisance. They love to burrow, you see. And too
often, the soft soil of my Beautiful Girlfriend’s flower bed is very
accommodating to their tunneling habits. Only problem with that is:
plants don’t like having their roots exposed to the air. So my Sweet
Lovely Bride will toil and place her plants just so, only to have
some of them die because of burrowing rascal rodents.
It’s very obvious that these little dirt monkeys are the culprits. They pop out of nowhere when we’re walking near the flower beds; and then we see the little hole from which they zoom in and out. Their activities have not made my Amazing Love very happy at all; and she has resorted to calling them foul names. “Why the *@#! do they dig in my *@#!ing flower beds??” she asked not too long ago. Being the dutiful hubby I am, I looked it up on the interwebs, then conveyed what should have been an obvious answer: they like seeds.
We’ve been feeding birds for many
moons, but the chipmunk problem is relatively recent. There are
predators that keep them in check; and we’ve been raising whole
families of those for many moons too. They’re called kitty cats.
Our cats have always been allowed outside; and for almost all of her
21 ½ years our beautiful calico, Never Anne, would keep their
numbers down. That baby killed pretty much anything that moved!!
Well, Nevvie is gone to the Big Kitty
Cat Playground In The Sky. We do have Freddy the Freeloader; he’s
our one and only kitty now (we’ve often had several at a time).
Freddy was a feral who adopted us; and although he knows how to hunt,
he seems to have become rather fat and lazy these days. It’s very
possible he’s spoiled. Our family does not use poison baits, so
since Freddy wasn’t bringing us any dead chipmunks, I started waging
war on them with more humane methods. Stomping their tunnels –
they just dig again. Flooding with water – lasts a little longer
but pretty much the same result as stomping.
Then finally the
light came on. The water seemed to work alright, I just needed to
add a little something to it. Something like used kitty litter!!
The clumping kind works very well for this. So I filled a plastic
bucket with water, then started dumping in the kitty droppings. Let
it set for a couple days so it gets nice and stinky. Stir it with a
stick, taste it to make sure it’s… NO!!! NO TASTING!!! GACK!!
You can probably guess the next step. Chipmunks do NOT like kitty cat stinkwater. Gee, I wonder why?? So my new and improved control method is to douse the offending burrows with Kitty Kaka And Wee Wee Nasty Juice Mixture Surprise. Hey… maybe I should bottle it and start marketing the stuff!! Anyway, for good measure, I make sure some of the solids go down the hole too. Very effective!! This might gross some of you out, but please keep in mind that we don’t eat what grows in the flower beds. And if there’s any fresh stinkwater application, I make sure to warn my Honey Pie so she can remember to wear gloves while doing her garden work.
free to use this recipe at your house. One thing to keep in mind
though: mosquitoes do not seem to care what kind of water they lay
eggs in. That’s right kids, I’ve actually seen mosquito larvae in
the stinkwater bucket!! After seeing that, I make sure to check
regularly; and dump all the water before the larvae can mature. God
only knows what nasty diseases such creatures would carry if they
hatch out of such nastiness!!
We still have chipmunks stuffing their faces at the base of the bird feeder; but at least they’re not messing up my Baby’s flowerbed. They don’t look anything like the ones that Disney made famous in cartoons. Here are those two chipmunks who are famous for their shenanigans.
Well it’s the Friday before the Last
Weekend Of Vacation and although I probably should be crying and
rolling on the floor with great sadness and ickety-boo, I am instead
writing a run-on sentence that is intended to sing great songs of
satisfaction that my vacation went pretty darn well because nobody
was injured and I ate more than enough and even got some garden work
done and there were a couple of times when I forgot what day it was
and my blood pressure got the best reading in many moons.
YES!! My blood pressure was
mantivulously excellent when
I checked it the other day. And “mantivulously” is not even a
word!! To those of you who don’t have high blood pressure, this may
seem like no big deal. For me, a reading of 116 / 83 is pretty
doggoned fantabulous. And there’s another word
that isn’t a word!! My Beautiful Honey Pie has often told me,
“Kenny, when you retire, your blood pressure will drop!!” I’m
not quite retired, but almost… and having 10 days off in a row
pretty much feels like what I figure retirement will be (except I
here I am on the 5th
of July, roasting in the heat of the upstairs where my office is,
listening to all the explosives being touched off in the distance,
hoping nobody put firecrackers in Uncle Zermle’s nostrils like last
year, wondering why all these run-on sentences and make-a-believe
words keep flying out of my fingers and onto the screen via the
keyboard, and oh yes, where the HECK do people get all the money for
all these “up in smoke” kaboomy devices?? Anyhow?? OK, I admit
that I have been known to purchase fireworks in the past. Now they
are legal in Michigan, and many people are taking advantage of that.
Some even have displays that look pretty professional! But I’ll be
glad when it’s over… I treasure the peace and quiet over the
kabooms and rocket skreechings.
Well I hope all of you had a bribbulous 4th of July, and that you still have all your fingers and have suffered comparatively little hearing loss. I still have 2.125 days of vacation left, so I’m a gonna go ni-night now to celebrate.
Yew no, even inn this day of spell
checkers and grandma checkers, lots of writing is on display awl over
the place that is just plane inn correct. Weather it’s the youse
of the wrong word ore sum thing is spelt badly, computers wheel only
help yew two a certain egg stent, and then hay, ewe gist half two no
how to spell and yews proper grandma. Shore, the spell checker will
help yew often. Butt if you use words that our inn the diction
aerie, and their all sew spelled write, the spell checker thinks
everything is honky donkey.
Oh and hay, don’t four get about
punctuation!! Gist ask my lovely girlfriend wife person: eye used
two get total lee up set when eye saw apostrophes used badly. Yew
no, like when sum won uses one to make a word plural; witch is knot
watt an apostrophe is four at awl.
Egg sample: “Open 12 – 8 Monday’s
Oh golly that makes me crazy. OK maybe
craziER. Their should bee know apostrophe inn such play says.
ANYWAY… enough of such soap boxing (I
never really enjoyed boxing soap anyhow). On with the topic at hand,
“Sines of the Thymes.,” like the tight Al says. Sum of the sines
yew sea these days are gist plane funny. Haven’t seen won in a
long while, butt one of my favorites over the years has been:
“BANANAS .49 CENTS PER POUND”
First of all, how can they make
any money if they only sell bananas for not quite ½ cent per pound
??? Second of all, are the farmers
giving away bananas and paying for the freight???
Yes, eye no they are two lay Z right the price correctly. Probably
they mean $.49 (49 cents) butt it steel looks pretty funny.
On the other hand, yew have the very
expensive beer sines, like:
“BUD LIGHT $1899 A CASE”
Wholly carp eye say two yew, who kin a
ford two bye a case of beer for $1899 or watt ever?? That’s all
most the prize of a cheep car!! Well OK knot much of a car for that
kind of money these daze. Butt yew no what eye mean.
My most favorite egg sample of a goofy sine came to me from Comedy Heaven sum years ago, when I had to go to Plumbs for a few groceries. Thanks two mod urn technology, eye was a bull two get a pretty good pitcher of it sew I could Cher it with awl of yew:
Is that two cool or watt?? Knot only
was cheese on sale for a pretty good price, butt yew kin all sew use
them to patch yore roof!! Eye confess, I’ve never herd of shingles
made of cheese bee four. Their they were though, so I bought one
pack of pepper jack and one pack of Swiss. When I got them home I
figured, watt the heck and I tried some.
THEY TASTED JUST LIKE CHEESE!!!
No shingle flavor at all!!!
Knot shore how many rains they could
take though… they looked pretty floppy. Don’t think I could
really walk on them either.
Well, I wheel bee on the lookout for
moor funny spellings and word miss usage. Eye reel E love thee
ability two snap a photo when eye find a funny sine. And of coarse,
I’m steel a bit chagrinned when eye sea something in print that I’m
pretty shore sum won checked with the spell checker but is steal a
mess. Oh well… that’s my anal retentive spelling and grandma
snootiness four yew.
In the meantime, pleas have a lovely day and eye shore hope you don’t fall for those $1899 beer “sale” prices or the .49 cents per pound bananas.
So there I was, minding my own business, thinking seriously of what kind of seriousness I was going to be serious about, not really sure if I wanted to be serious enough to remove www.kakahead.com from my domain universe and just have that garden thing; but then people told me they really like “Happy Friday!!!” so I put it on the garden website thing and then I thought to myself, “Hey, you self person! For why you are now put ha ha on the garden website thing? Don’t they are supposed to be a separate something from each other…” and then my mind drifted into a much longer run-on sentence as I dreamed of eating hard smoked eels and singing great songs of corporate dysfunction.
As I was singing, I tried to juggle the two websites, and I, the Computer Geek Boy of My Workplace Factory Thing, who is supposed to know better than to fiddle about with clicking button things (please forgive my technical explanations); proceeded to break both websites dead in a most kaputt manner. It was very easy. All I had to do was click a few things and say OK, and suddenly nothing in my two website world was OK anymore. I was even more pleased when I realized that I had not ever in my living life backed up the databases for either website. I was very proud of myself indeed, and celebrated by spraying Extract of Bug Antlers on my Computer Monitor Device and of course I also began to wonder Why I was Capitalizing Words that really Shouldn’t Be Capitalized.
So. Here I am now, rebuilding the kakahead thing (and feeling a bit like a kakahead if you know what I mean); and although I have all my stories still here on my computer, I am most encrusted with my completely indivisible saturation. That means, of course, that I am flogging myself with imaginary dust hammers and other implements of construction; as I feel very silly to have perpetrated such a Blarvookian Snerglepop.
I’m very sorry if I saddened any of my friends in the “Happy Friday!!!” kaka readership ranks. I hope you will forgive me and send large amounts of crash to my pet radish who I effectively call “Mr. Crab Crackers.” He and only he will be responsible for collecting the amplified bread worms that I’m sure so many of you activate with your toasters each and every day of The Great Snack Festival; which of course occurs each Tuesday night when the moon is sailing through the Monkey Head Jones Conservation District.
The morel of the story, then, is that I will keep www.kakahead.com and also rebuild the garden website thing. Thank you very much to all my friends (some of whom I’ve never actually met). Bless you all and may the Great Spirit keep you safe and free from indigestion.
Here now is something that makes me stop and sniff the liverwurst. See you next week kids!!