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 |   So playing the trombone wasn't getting me in enough trouble? |
| I need someplace to write down the often confusing thoughts that enter my mind, while my stories give voice to the characters that wander through periodically, this is the place for my voice. Join me if you wish, comment if you wish, all are welcomed and appreciated. |
| So as part of my super-secret, undercover, very temporary, "I even have to wear a suit" assignment, I am doing a series of interviews. The candidates are all current college students, who are interviewing either to do long-term observations of teachers currently teaching or prospective Student Teachers, who will actually join current teachers and teach classes next semester. In short, they are all candidates for entry into the teaching profession. Now, I realize this isn't a real job interview, and I realize that we are talking about students here. But, there are some tips you need to follow; The first tip applies universally to almost every job interview. Dress for the Job You Want. Shredded jeans and a tee-shirt are never appropriate for a job interview for any professional position. An outfit you'd wear for a night out clubbing is also not appropriate. If it makes the custodian faint, it isn't appropriate. If you need to, Shave! Comb your hair! Make an effort to look like you weren't on an all-night bender last night. Yes, all three showed up this morning. Next, bring a resume or curriculum vitae, even if it only covers your High School/College career. Why? Because I'm more interested in hearing HOW you answer questions than the actual answer. It will be easier on you if I'm asking questions you (hopefully) already know the answers to. If you tell me your favorite hobby is reading, expect me to ask which book you read last for pleasure. Cooking, what's your favorite recipe? I want to hear you formulate a cogent, clear answer. Please don't make me resort to: If you were a car, what kind of car would you be? Bring A Pen!! You are entering the big leagues now, you shouldn't need to borrow a pen to write things down or fill things out. And you will have to do both. Prepare questions you will ask me in advance. The questions don't have to be profound or even profession-related. Just show me you thought about the interview BEFORE you got here. Where do I park? Is there a place on-site to eat/buy lunch? I have classes in the evening, will I ever have to miss them to perform duties here? Unless you bring some for all of us, please don't bring food or drink into the interviewer's office. A water bottle is fine, a dry nervous mouth is a problem for everyone. Practice your handshake or nowadays, your fist bump. Only offer it if the interviewer offers it first. Last!!!! Remember, I'm just as nervous and eager to make a good impression as you are. I just have more practice at not showing it than you do. |
| If you subscribe to the rodent theory of weather prediction, today's Groundhog prognostications were at best a mixed bag. Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow. So, according to this resident of Pennsylvania, we're in for 6 more weeks of winter. Of course, Phil has an accuracy rate of 40%. Which might be as good as any other meteorologist. Now here on Long Island, we have not one, but two, weather-predicting rodents. Holtsville Hal, from the easterly end of our fair island is calling for an early Spring (Go, Hal). Alas, Malverne Mel, who resides in our west end predicted six additional weeks of Winter. So it looks like the long Winter vote has it. In past years we might have gotten a fourth vote from the rodent also known as Mel. He lived in Milltown, New Jersey. Unfortunately, Milltown Mel has suffered the heartbreak of too many failed predictions, he decided to cross over the rainbow bridge just before being made to prognosticate another year. I wonder what other communities have their own groundhogs, peering around corners, looking for their shadows? Does yours? The trinket below gives a little history behind Ground Hogs Day. The 1993 Bill Murry feature, Groundhog Day, had Murry's character trapped in a time loop, which made it more SciFi, than RomCom, at least in my eyes. The TV show Stargate SG-1 did a similar show "Window of Opportunity" in 2000. It's the sixth episode from season 4, if you'd like to check it out, it is available on Amazon Prime and Hulu. (I think). Previous to the film, the repetition Murry's character experiences wasn't associated with Groundhog Day, which came later. after the movie. The film itself gives no explanation for the repetition, even though there was one in the script's first draft. Stephanie's Curse  , which she casts on Phil, the curse scene was deleted in the second draft.Be sure to check out "Note: Hopefully, You Took Part In The
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So this morning, on my way over to the mainland, I decided to stop in at "Invalid Item" , for a quick breakfast snort – sandwich, yeah that's it, a quick egg, ham, and, cheese on a toasted roll, with butter, salt, and pepper.Anywho! This notice was posted on the door; Tell us all about "? Day" in a blog entry. The best ideas for 'MUSE DAY' will be selected– Then we'll celebrate that day on a future date in the Banana Bar. It was scrawled in crayon and fastened to the door with a steak knife. Which means it's an official message from Andre. You can tell he worked hard on it because he used three different crayons! Now I'm kinda busy with a semi-temporary, super top-secret project. I even have to wear a suit! But, this intrigued me. What Day would the four misfits muses who constitute my writing persona consider worthy of Celebration? It's not like any of them need an excuse to celebrate. The four of them will drop anything to have a party, including my charge card onto the bar. But, I digress. A Guavé Tortuga, ol' slow and steady, unless of course, he's in Lil' Lime Squeeze mode, was the first to chime in. He proposed the following possible days; Lay Back and Relax Day! There's Always Tomorrow Day! Lil' Lime Squeeze chimed in with; It's Five O'clock Somewhere Day! On my way to the water taxi I ran into Pub Bunny next, he suggested these days of celebration; Waiter! There's a Hare In My Soup/Cocktail Day! Bleery Eyed, Floppy Eared and Bushy Tailed Day! – Which sounds more like a personal statement to me. Anon-Y-Monkey jumped in, literally, he jumped out of a nearby tree with these beauties; Go Away and Leave Me Alone Day! (I actually typed alone three different ways, until I finally spelled it correctly—I hate that speed-reading program from Elementary School.) Give Something Away Day! — Not necessarily something of value, which is often his specialty. Lastly, I shared the fast trip across the rippling pond with Grumpy the Leprechaun. He thought about his answer for a long time, I thought he was going to come up with something very profound. Turns out I was wrong again! He first said, "we should celebrate all things Irish." I pointed out Saint Paddy's Day already did that. Grumpy replied. "Fair enough, let me ruminate a bit more lad." Finally, he came up with; Don't Put Ice In M'Grog Day! Keep The Booze Away From That Monkey Day! Why is There A Hare In Me Brew Day? And, most likely his best suggestion; Celebrate Yer Barkeep/Bar Manager Day! What Day Would Your Muse Chose To Celebrate/Create? Answer in the comments — Win A Prize! |
"Where in the world did you find a green tuxedo?!?" I was aghast at Grumpy's attire, it wasn't just green ... it was really, No Really green. Shimmery satin lapels, with a matching stripe down the seam of his short little pants only added to its greenness. "I found this beauty in the haberdashery yesterday, while you and that spendthrift bunny were out picking up another mouth to feed." Grumpy did a little spin to show me that his tux had tails. "A real cutie that one, though, so we'll let it stay." Just as I was about to ask him where the others were, A Guavé Tortuga and Anon-y-Monkey walked in. Anony looked splendid his his well-fitted traditional tux, he even chose to wear patent leather shoes, polished to a mirrory gloss. A Guavé on the other hand was in his Lil' Lime Squeeze getup. "Really A Guavé, that's what you're wearing to the Blame it on Your Muse Awards?" I was a little disappointed, A Guavé usually had more class. "Oy Guv. m'buddy Andre asked me ta do a set with the band tonight. Strumming an air guitar. "So, I'm dressed to fit the bill." "Wonderful." I muttered, "so where's Pubby, why are we always waiting on that bunny?" Anon-y-Monkey answered. "He said he'd meet us at Andre's." Tilting his head to one side and shrugging. "Something about buying roses, and chocolates." Grinning. "And, this being the time for his famous moves." I got some spray bottles out of the frig.     I herded them into the dugout for the short trip across the lagoon, thankfully it was a short trip because Grumpy immediately started claiming he was seasick. Seem's like he could get seasick looking at a glass of water. We walked towards Andre's chatting about what to name the new muse, which was still very much up in the air. Lo and behold, there was Pubby nervously pacing up and down in front of the door. He was mumbling to himself, rehearsing several different pickup lines. "So what's a Beautiful Muse like you doing with an author like this?" He tried another out. "I bet we could write some great stories together!" I was tempted to spray him, but he already looked pitiful enough. We left him and went inside, Lilith of House Martell had done a great job. The place almost didn't look like Andre's. the tables were all lined up into one long table. Muses and authors were mingling in a little alcove that was set up as a cocktail area. There was a banana daiquiri fountain, and all sorts of little finger foods to choose from. More people were arriving, though Andre wasn't there yet. The piggies in blankets were particularly yummy. The little Jack Russel terrier I shared mine with agreed with me. Brother Nature was checking his watch, a bit nervous, expecting Andre to make an auspicious entrance any minute. Lilli announced that dinner would be served shortly and asked us to take our seats. There was a bit of tension amongst some of the Muses, apparently, Sha-Sha was stirring up some trouble within their midst. I didn't think that would end well, at least not for the authors, but my little fellas were pretty much immune to her shenanigans, well, except for Pubby. I could still see him pacing outside, Grumpy had brought a glass of liquid courage, which he sipped through a straw. Every sip made his ears twitch. I felt guilty about the spray bottle ... a little guilty ... well, not really guilty. We found seats and dinner started, there were several courses, each one more delicious than the first. Much of the meal was Island-based cuisine. Rich tropical fruits, fish. Though Lilli had thoughtfully had a steak prepared for me, she remembered my seafood allergies. Grumpy was overjoyed at the sight of his corned beef and cabbage feast, which included multiple versions of potatoes. The deserts were a sight to behold, a table on wheels pulled by a team of yapping chihuahuas carrying every imaginable pastry, pudding, cookie, and cake. I did mention to Lillie that I was surprised there were no Banana Cream Pies. She looked at me like I was insane. "Banana Cream Pies?" Her voice raising above the band that was tuning up on stage. "With this crowd?" She smiled knowingly. "I'd look for Banana Creams in March though." Things seemed to be going swimmingly, though Sha-Sha seemed to be egging some of the other Muses on to some type of mischief. We were still waiting for Andre. Where could he be? The sound of an approaching propeller attracted us all to the glassless windows, sure enough, a blimp was approaching. The sky was filled with billows of dark smoke and white steam. The blimp slowed and hovered over us. A rope tossed over the side landed at my feet. The skipper yelled down at me. "Tie us off lad." I tied the best knot I could around a stout palm tree. As soon as the line was secure, Andre slid down it, followed by the blimps skipper, blimprider, he took one look at the knot I tied and said, "Your quite the lubber I see." Now that Andre was here the festivities kicked into high gear. Vodka Virtuals replace the daiquiri fountain, Sha-Sha continued her campaign, and several trips were made to the basement. The rest of the evening's events are best gleamed from various law enforcement reports, news clippings, and the log of the blimp. |
Only my right opened when Pubby hopped into my room yelling. "Field Trip, get up, get we're all going on a field trip!" "Pubby, what the hell, what time is— "It's time to get up, hurry Richard, and we don't wanna miss the bus. Andre is driving." Which proved that, yes indeed, things could be worse than having a sugar-addled bunny jumping around your bedroom. I pulled on a pair of shorts and a tee and found my flip-flops. Luckily, Anon-Y-Monkey had made coffee the night before on a timer. He and Grumpy were still sleeping off last night's bender on the couches. "Are you going to wake them up also, Pubby?" "Nope, no time, we're late, we're late ... for a critically important date!" He cracked himself up, not realizing that he hadn't gotten the quote correct. "So, who is going on this field trip?" Pubby thought about it for a while before he answered. "Ummm, all the bloggers are coming and all their muses—" "All their muses, so why aren't we waking up those two sleeping beauties, and where's the turtle? A Guavé Tortuga has a rehearsal, he can't come, and we don't need those other two. Just me and you today ol' buddy, ol' pal." "Pubby?" "Yes?" He was trying to sound innocent. "Is Sha-sha coming on the trip?" "Maaaybeee." Being coy, the insides of each floppy ear turned a bit pink. I went to the frig and got two of the spray bottle I keep loaded. Just the thing, a quick spritz of ice water usually calms him down. Thinking about his latest infatuation, I grab the third icy cold spritzer. We headed off to the other side of the isle, and sure enough, there was Andre. He was kicking the tires on an old yellow school bus. The smell of diesel was heavy in the air. A few of the other bloggers and their muses were already there, everybody looked nervous. Not sure if it was about the trip or the fact that Andre was driving. I let Pubby pick out our seats, naturally, he took two seats right across from Marcus and Sha-sha. I whispered, "behave" and waved the spray bottle at him. He stuck his tongue out at me a struck up a conversation with Marcus. Smooth that bunny is. With a grind of gears, I don't think Andre can reach the clutch peddle, and with a black belch of smoke the bus roared off on our adventurous field trip. Well, I thought. "It can't be worse than that basement can it?" The teacher in me did a quick headcount, just a habit. Besides Marcus and Sha-sha there was Apondia and her muse, Spring in my Sox and Daisey. Sitting at the back of the bus, as far away from Andre as she could get, sat QueenNormaJeanGreeneggs&vegham with her muse. Dave and Clio, the newest arrivals were sitting up front, helping Andre watch the road. Brother Nature sat behind Andre with a map out, every once in a while Andre flipped Brother Nature the bird. LeJenD' Looking Up and Ravyn were sitting in the middle, giggling about something. Pubby leaned closer and whispered, "I think they're giggling at you." "Yeah." I snorted. "Because it's every day you see a talking bunny with floppy ears." Pubby shrugged. "Well, you're talking to a bunny with floppy ears." I gave him a squirt of ice water. We were doing about 600 MPH when Andre stood on the brakes, whipped the wheel to the left, and spun into the parking lot of a large white building. The building had a large sign, and once the dust cleared we were able to read it; "The Haemingway Center For Muse Rehabilitation" Everyone was talking at once; Mostly a lot of, "Why are we here", and "This better not be what I think it is", from the Muses. Pubby looked at me accusingly, "Are you dumping me?" I sprayed him again. Andre popped the top on a beer, put his little furry feet up on the steering wheel, and growled something at Brother Nature. "Andre says, everyone out of the pool, errr, bus. Our tour's about to start." We trooped towards the entrance, as well as a ragtag ensemble of Muses and authors could troop. We were met by a man dressed like a riverboat captain, he greeted us in a rich southern drawl. Now, Folks, it's mighty fine to see ya'll, there're a lot of fine folks just bustin' ta meet ya'll. Step this way, step this way." Pubby nearly tripped over his ears trying to catch up to Sha-sha. I sprayed him again. We went to a room filled with muses, all of them authorless. Sadly some of their authors had passed on. Even sadder, some of their authors had just given up, abandoning their muse, not writing any longer. All of the authors were sad about that and talking it over we each decided to adopt an orphan muse. "Hey, it sounded like a good idea at the time." There were still muses left so we decided to adopt and gift muses to our favorite authors at Writing.com. I found a raven, it talked but had a very limited vocabulary. I decided he make a great muse for blimprider, maybe the skipper could teach it to say something besides "nevermore". A muse named Thalia approached me and asked for help, I quickly had adoptions papers drawn up for Sum1 and Lornda~ House of Martell ~. Who better to take care of comedies muse? I found a little muse to adopt, it doesn't even have a name yet. When I get back to "Invalid Item" , we'll all have to do something about that! Keep a lookout! |
I looked at the load of cartons that had just been dropped off on the dock. This was going to take a while, especially since it seemed like all of my helpers had performed a Houdini trick and disappeared. Not a bunny, turtle, monkey, or imp in sight. "Welp." Talking to myself. "I guess I better just get started without them, no telling if they'll show up anytime soon." I began loading the cartons, all marked "Fragile", which the Leprechaun still insists is an Italian shipping concern. Silly Imp! I could tell the boxes all held bottles of liquid, each time I lifted one a little chime of clinking glass and a sloshing sound were quite distinct. They all fit into the back of Andre's '55 Chevy pickup, a candy apple red beauty. I was surprised when he tossed me the keys. Whatever this stuff was it must be pretty important. I drove carefully over to the bar, the old pickup handled well despite being on the sand. But then, Andre had only the best tires on the truck. I backed up carefully to the service entrance and went to check with Andre. "Hey, Boss." tossing his keys back. "Where does this stuff go?" Andre didn't look up, he was engrossed in playing both sides of a game of Mario Kart. He did point at a door that I hadn't even noticed before, ta' tell ya the truth, I don't think that door was ever there before. Shrugging my shoulders I decided to get a cart and bring all the boxes in before I even opened that door. Finally, I had to open the door, couldn't put it off any longer. I was hoping one of the fellas might show up, at least to offer a bit of encouragement. But' that plainly wasn't on their agenda for today. I opened the door and saw the longest staircase I'd ever seen, it went on for miles—okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but it was at least as long as the Queen's Staircase in Burmuda. "Geeze," I murmured. "I gotta carry all of this shi— stuff down these stairs by myself?" I huffed and puffed, carrying one box at a time, counting the stairs as I went, sixty-six steps down and sixty-seven steps back up. "Wait! Talking out loud to no one. That can't be right!?! How is that possible?" Whatever I thought, two more to go, and I'm done anyway. Second to the last trip, the same sixty-six steps down, but, I must be getting tired, because now at the bottom I swear I can hear voices. All I can see is inky blackness, the only light shining on the shelves that I'm putting the payload on. I shake the voices out of my head and make the sixty-eight step climb back up for the last box. "What the hell? Sixty-Eight? Sixty-three, sixty-four, Sixty-fi—ooooffff. "Ahh-ohhh." As my foot skids off of something on the stairs, I go backside over teakettle, landing in a heap at the bottom. "Oh Laddie" In his rich Irish broagh. "Are they alright?" "Figures you show up now." Annoyed and rubbing my posterior. "After all the work is done—whatta you mean they? Only one of us fell down the stairs." "The bottles Idjit, I'm askin' about the bottles." "Well, thanks for your concern. Where have you guys been, it seems like you all deserted me on this one." He wasn't paying the least attention to me, he was busy checking out the case of bottles. "Ahhh, so that's good at least not a broken one amongst'em." "What is that stuff?" Seeing the shimmering liquid for the first time. "And, where are we?" Grumpy looked up and points down on the ground, there's a rough bit of parchment and an old quill. "It's best ya heed the advice on that missive laddie." I pick up the moldering note, the ink is badly faded, I can just make out the words; 'Go Back, Hurry!' I don't waste another minute, scrambling up all Sixty-Nine steps. |
My left eye was twitching from being on screen too long. This was the sixth revision of the speech announcing his candidacy, he was being very particular, and I was on the verge of hysteria. I was also on the verge of telling him to shove the speech up his little bum. He read the latest draft, moving his lips while he read. Finally, he gave me a tight-lipped nod and headed off to dress for the big speech. The momentous moment materialized. The band was vamping on the horn intro to the chorus of Stranded in the Jungle , one of his favorite tunes. He had decided on a black tailored suit, the fit was a credit to his tailor. Making him look good in a suit was no mean feat. On cue, he walked out from the wings, headed for the podium. Two steps up the small riser behind the microphones brought his head into view. He held up his tiny little mitts, signaling that the thunderous applause should stop. The band faded out, falling with the applause into silence.He paused dramatically, letting the silence hang in the air, savoring the breathless excitement of the crowd. Finally, he spoke; "Authors, Muses and Writing.comites, lend me your auditory vestiges. (The line didn't get a laugh, but, I got a glare of annoyance from him.) I come before you tonight as your friend, colleague, and fellow artist. For too long, we, as the prime mover of creativity, have labored in the shadows. For too long, our contributions and sacrifices have gone unacknowledged. For too long, others have laid claim to the fruits of our work. For too long, the words forged from our sweat and blood have suffered at the slashing pens of editors and critics. Well, my friends, that tyranny and oppression will stop now! Each and every member of my staff will proudly display and acknowledge their Muse publically and openly, no matter how embarrassing or humiliating that acknowledgment might be! A rustle of interest The so-called Rules of Grammar and Style will be repealed so that never again will our words be challenged, and forced to fit the standards of others. Cheers Books and guidelines like the "Associated Press Style" Book and "The Chicago Manual of Style" will be banned, burnt, stomped on, spindled, and mutilated. Enthusiastic Cheers Critics and reviewers not offering helpful, kind, and supportive reviews will be rooted out and forced to watch Barney the Purple Dinosaur, while listening to Baby Shark over and over. More Enthusiastic Cheers Booksellers, none of whom I'll mention by name, at the advice of our Attorney-General Designate, will be prohibited from limiting in any way where or how we chose to display, sell or offer our works to the public at large. Even More Enthusiastic Cheers We will gather the population into our community, spreading the love of books, writing, poetry, and prose far and wide, until it unites us and the world in a common bond of love and compassion. The Assembled Crowd Goes Wild!! Ad-libbed and off the Teleprompter There will be rum and vodka in every liquor cabinet, unlimited bananas, and pineapple for all! Crowd rushes forward, security whisks Andre off the stage Before he's completely offstage, Andre shouts, "I am Andre, and I will be your next President, hic!" Cue the Band |
Cooking for Festive Family Fetes is a task I always enjoy. My family all have hearty appetites and enjoy eating. I usually plan each meal well in advance and do the grocery shopping in stages. I did the planning, but then a little problem popped up in the form of unexpected work. So shopping was out. Lennie the love o' my life couldn't shop for me. So what was I to do? Anyone who knows me knows there are four miscreants muses who haunt inspire me. I wondered if one of them might be able to do the shopping? Let's see, the first possibility is the Grumpy Leprechaun. He'd be perfect. If he dressed in something other than that tacky green suit, he'd almost look normal. Kind of like a little kid with red whiskers. He might be my best bet. "Shopping is it now laddie?" He carefully put down the corned beef sandwich he was munching on. "Well now, if the liquor cabinet needs restocking or the beer frig is empty then I'm at your service." Grumpy took a long swig from his mug. "But, the last thing I bought in one of those markets was a hundred-pound sack o' taters, and ya complained about that for months. So no thank ye kindly, I won't be doing no food buying, at all, at all." Next up was Pub Bunny, a short floppy-eared rascal, who seemed to change the color of his fur on an hourly basis. when I asked him about that his answer was. "Did you ever notice how Grumpy looks at his mug when I change color?" So, I asked him about shopping, apparently, he's a veggietaterian (sic) and refuses to shop for anything but produce. Let me tell you, my family isn't vegetarians, and trying a meatless wonder meal is out ... way out. Next up was Anon-Y-Monkey, as soon as I found him I knew he was a non-starter. Especially since I found him hanging with Andre. They were drinking Vodka Virtuals and tossing coconuts at the chihuahuas. My last hope was A Guavé Tortuga, the retired rock star. I wasn't sure how he'd feel mingling with the common folk at a grocery store, but, I was desperate. I caught up to him, which wasn't hard, he's a turtle, on his way to Best Buy. He's looking for a new turntable. Explaining my plight, I asked him for the favor. To my surprise, he was happy to oblige. I handed him the list, and he looked it over. "You need to add cucumbers." "What, I'm not making anything with cucumbers?" "The cukes are for me—" "Oh!" "Turtles LOVE cucumbers!!" With that, he turned and quickly walked off, well, quickly for a turtle. A Guavé is a pretty astute turtle because several hours later a guy rowed up in a dugout with a sign that said "PeaShell Food Deliveries". everything on my list was there, along with 25 pounds of cucumbers, A Guavé showed up about 2 hours later to collect them. His only question as he turned to leave was. "When's Dinner?" |
Traveling with a muse in tow is always a risky proposition. If you're like me and have more than one of the pesky critters kind and wonderful motivators, you can imagine it's even more of a challenge when one of them decides to pop in and handle a situation for me. As a present to myself for retirement, I recently went on a cruise, of course, all four of my little menaces buddies stowed away traveled with me. Grumpy, Pubby, Anon-y-Monkey, and the turtle are usually good companions, well-behaved, and easy to get along with. (Yes! They are standing behind while I write this—Send Help!) One of the stops on the cruise was a layover on a small island nation I had never been to before. Even in my years playing on the ships, I had never visited Île d'Eau Chaude. I was looking forward to visiting a place I had never been to before. It was a bit puzzling because unlike other stops on the cruise, all the passenger's luggage had to be inspected by the Isle's customs division. I lugged all of our bags off the ship, all of them were stuffed to bursting with the loot souvenirs the boys had pilfered acquired at our other stops—before we were asked to leave or escorted back to the boat. Fortunately, none of the bottles belonging to Grumpy had to be offloaded, as they were safely locked in the ship's duty-free storage area. Or, so I thought. I calmly walked up to a burly-looking customs agent, who really needed a shave. He seemed to speak only in grunts. Pointing at the very low table in front of him, he mentioned for me to put the first suitcase on it. He whistled tunelessly as he rifled through the bag, pulling out some shop bags, opening them, and tossing the contents back into the suitcase. Every once in a while one of the trinkets would end up in a box at his feet. That's when I noticed his feet were bare, and a bit hairy. The process repeated itself several more times as he examined each of my bags. 'Ahh, I thought to myself, one last bag, and we're clear.' That's when it all broke loose. The next bag had a very fine bottle of vodka in it. The agent started hopping around pointing and grunting, angrier than any public servant I've ever seen. I was as surprised as he was, all the liquor was supposed to be locked away on the ship. Who and how did that bottle get into my luggage!?! That's when Grumpy showed up, I should have known, if there's booze involved, he's never far away. (Well, to be honest, all of them tend to follow the booze.) Grumpy immediately started to pass the Blarney about being a fellow Customs Agent on the Old Sod. He looked around slyly, before sliding a bag of shiny coins across the table. That made the Agent grunt furiously, as he picked up the coin pouch, and tossed it at me. He reached behind him and pulled out a set of handcuffs. Grunting and motioning me to turn around. I really knew I was in Hot Water then! Luckily for me, that's when Anon-Y-Monkey made his appearance. He had a shopping bag in his hairy little hand. 'Great I thought, Anony is going to offer this guy more cash, they're going to lock me up and toss the key—.' Anon-Y-Monkey started grunting away, ever so slowly the Agent seemed to calm down, no longer angry, the Agent's eyes lit up when he peeked into Anony's bag. By the end of the conversation, after the Agent had safely stowed the bag beneath his table, they were grunting like old buddies. I got a peek into the shopping bag as I carted off my now cleared luggage. It was an even finer bottle of the very best vodka. Like I said, "it's always about the booze." One thing that puzzled me about the whole incident; The short little, scruffy Custom Agent, with hairy, bare feet and a surly attitude? The grunting crazy who preferred vodka to gold coins? It was like I had déjà vu all over again. |
"Trix cereal triggers ants to perform bizarre "death ritual"" From the NerdSnacks Newsletter:An interesting article that shows us the relationship between Trix cereal and dead ants. The article also provides insight into just how fastidious ants are. The ant's reactions are driven by ingredients in the cereal. "So what inspired this macabre death ritual? It turns out when ants decompose they produce a fatty acid known as oleic acid, which also happens to be a component of the sunflower and canola oils found in Trix. When living ants “smell” oleic acid they spring into action and—being the fastidious creatures they are—immediately cart the dead off to specialized “cemetery” chambers to keep the colony clean. The behavior is so ingrained that dousing a perfectly healthy ant with oleic acid results in the unfortunate insect getting “buried alive.”"   In Other News For reasons beyond my comprehension, I have allowed myself to temporarily be dragged back into the workforce. One of the Principals in my former district is celebrating a happy event, the birth of he and his wife's first child! So he will be taking some time off to stay home and be a Daddy. Which is a wonderful thing! Of course, a school can't be left without a Principal and a plan was in place to make sure this one wasn't. Yup! Ya know what they say about plans and planning. "You never run out of things that can go wrong." — Edward A. Murphy of Murphy's Law Fame There was a substitute/acting Principal all ready to step in and save the day. Alas, timing and a job opening in another district robbed us, called her in a different direction. An offer no one could expect her to refuse. So what is a beleaguered, harried, and desperate Superintendent to do? Yeah, that's it, let's call that grumpy music guy back! He's got the certificates and degrees. What could go wrong?  Please Review Above So here I am a temporary/acting Principal in an elementary school (ages 4 to 10ish). My duties consist mainly of hiding in my office, drinking coffee, and the occasional foray into the wild looking stern. Sounds easy right? Please Review Above So far I have had to deal with a 4th. young lady offering to get frisky with one of her classmates. For his part, he was shocked and dismayed at the offer. A tree, that had been planted by the student body to honor a teacher was hit by a car (seems it jumped right in front of the driver). Try explaining to parents that the tree needs to be cut down and we can't replace it until Spring. (Yes, it was covered by insurance.) A multi offender, a bathroom floor soiling urinator, decided to test the new sheriff in town. Bathrooms have a sign-in system, so we knew who it was almost instantly. He cracked just as quickly. The toughest part was what to do with our little perp. Both his parents work, a suspension would be a familial hardship. I gave him and his parents a choice. Suspension or two weeks of hard labor instead of lunchtime recess. He chose wisely and will be assisting the custodians with cleaning lunch tables after lunch. Which means I have to be in the lunchroom with him. And, next week I have to do something I avoided my entire career — attend a PTA meeting.  And Now, What Kids Say "I like your suit, it makes it look like you know what you are doing" ~ 1st. Grader "Mr. Cooper has more hair than you" ~ Kindergartner Need to preface this one, I get into work about an hour early, always been my thing, so I have been doing my morning trombone warm-ups in the office. Kids who qualify (right now, everyone who wants it) are getting breakfast down the hall; "It sounds like you are wrestling an elephant in your office." ~ 5th. Grader "Couldn't we just use some glue and stick the tree back together?" ~ 3rd. Grader From someone I expect is a frequent flyer to the Principal's office; "If Mr. Cooper doesn't come back, can I have his stuffed eagle?" ~ 5th. Grader While going into the kitchen to pick up my lunch; "Don't get the chicken nuggets, they stink!" ~ 4th. Grader  This was supposed to be a two-week gig, about nine days because of the holiday. This morning the Sup called me, on my day off to ask if I might be able to extend my tenure. Of course, I asked, "by how much"? Dead Silence at first followed by a meek. "I'm not sure, we have many covid related staffing issues and not many qualified candidates."  The Good News is that by law, I can only do this for 6 months unless I freeze my pension and take the job permanently. The Better News? I'm sure the kids will have a lot more to say.   |
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Credit is delaying the pain unless one pays it off every month. I don't buy what I can't afford. I don't go into debt. I live well by living well within my means. 
