Tues., April 24, 42 A.B.Trapped Between The New Moon & Secretaries' Day
First, the good news: I did not die in my sleep last night. (At least I don't think I did. If you know something I don't, please keep it to yourself until funeral costs come down a bit.)
Now the bad news: I awoke this morning to find myself tightly wedged between the new moon and Secretaries' Day.
Even worse: After spending much of the morning searching my calendar for a loophole or an escape hatch, I've come to the sad conclusion that
I'm gonna be stuck here for a full 24 hours.Without even an emergency bell button to press to pass the time.
It's a wonder I can still breathe. Oh, damn this temporal claustrophobia
of mine!Thank goodness I have a few bigger worries to take my mind off my troubles.
And a few special blessings to ponder, too.
Worry #1: Did you know that they've renamed Secretaries' Day? Well, according to today's newspaper, they have. It's now officially National Administrative Professionals Day. Which of course sparks the worry, "Have they changed Arbor Day to Deciduous-Coniferous Appreciation Day, too?? Are all my big leafy friends going to take offense if I get it wrong??? Was that big dead branch that I found in my driveway a subtle warning of what might happen if I do get it wrong????" Damn holidays. When I'm king, we're all gonna just celebrate everything and everyone everyday and be done with it!
Special Blessing #1: You know what never ceases to pleasantly amaze me? The way wet rags dry even when we aren't thinking about them.
Dish rags, bath rags - it doesn't matter. We wet 'em, we use 'em, we
hang 'em up to dry and, by golly, they dry without further instruction or supervision virtually every time. They don't crash. They don't refuse to dry, then claim the sun got in their eyes or their alarm didn't go off or they simply forgot or they had more important things to do or any such thing. They just dry. Just one reason why I prefer to spend my time with the cheapest paper towel rather than the most expensive X-ray machine....Worry #2: Did I actually ask for oak syrup to put on my pancakes last
time I ate at Denny's when I meant to ask for maple syrup? Did the waitress actually bring oak syrup? Is that why she had an enigmatic
smile on her face when she came back to my table with the little metal pitcher? Isn't oak syrup poisonous? Granted, it didn't kill me immediately
- it might still give me a fatal case of indigestion at some point down the road, right? We really can't rule that out, can we? And who knows what outrageous impact the news of my having consumed oak syrup might
have on trees already ticked off because I'm still referring to Deciduous-Coniferous Appreciation Day by its old, politically incorrect designation?? Is there a militant "Oak Syrup For The Oaks - NOW!" movement out there that I don't know about??? Eeek!Special Blessing #2: DNA tests have now confirmed that my head really
is the biological father of my face! I was soooo worried! First, because my face looks nothing like my head. Second, because I watched a story on the CBS Evening News last night in which a man found out that only
one of his four children actually had his genes. Can you imagine what a shock that must have been to him? Now just imagine what a shock it would be to discover that the face you've washed and shaved and fed
and shown to the world all your life actually belonged to someone else! Yes, indeedie, as a very wise person once said, "Sometimes the best
surprise is no surprise at all!"Worry #3: It's so hard to connect with people. I mean, really connect
with people. You say hi, they say hi - then what? Other primates can
base a very rewarding relationship on hours of word-free mutual
grooming, but not us. Oh, no - we need to have common interests, and common sensibilities, and a memory good enough to remind us of the unpleasant consequences which can flow from telling dead God jokes in the Vatican Bar and Grill. Bah. It's all enough to make me wonder if I'm destined to become one of those guys you see in the mall parking lots sticking their used gum on the underside of people's mufflers rather than even attempting to establish a more meaningful relationship with the people inside the mall, many of whom own guns. Leaving your gum on a stranger's muffler may not amount to much of a relationship, but it's better than being shot because you waited 30 years to tell someone that you're actually the father who put their face up for adoption as a scared teenage boy who didn't know what else to do....Special Blessing #3: I've taken the plunge and signed up for a milk subscription! Now, once a week, the latest milk will be delivered right to
my mailbox for only 25 cents a gallon! That's a savings of almost 90% compared to the price of milk at my local dairy stand! Woooo-hooooo! Of course this means my milk will now come loaded with ad inserts and subscription renewal notices, but that's a very small price to pay for affordability and convenience. It's just a matter of learning how to drink around those things I'm not interested in, that's all.
(©Once after measuring twice by the ever-careful DJ Birtcher)