Hey there...
...I’ve been busy today doing stupid stuff. I took the dog with me and he tried to get in my lap like he did when I would take him for rides a very long time ago...I don’t know why he decided to do it today. I had to slam on the breaks a couple of times to get his attention. He sat like a good dog after I knocked his ass into the dashboard a few times. Of course, I looked like an idiot, slamming on my brakes for no apparent reason. But he stayed off of my lap after I did it. I wonder if someone is gonna read this a hundred years from now and think I am evil for not having my dog in a dog carrier? Wouldn’t that suck? To be judged by today’s standards in another time would be a bitch. Everything keeps changing so you know that the standards will, too.
I remember watching a movie where a drunk “rider” was the subject of pity because the poor soul had killed a little boy while drinking and acting a fool on a horse. (You know, I am stone cold sober and I can’t do that toe to toe thing...try it, it isn’t that easy. I don’t think I could pass a test right now....I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t have to do that maneuver.)
By today’s standards, my parents would be offenders of some sort, of that I am sure. They let me ride on my uncle’s motorcycle...not only without a helmet, but I was sitting in front of him. I must have been 4 at the time. (I have the 70’s music channel on television and they’re playing that song that John Travolta sang, Let Her In. What a bad song that was. I guess they figured the name itself would sell a million records. God, he is howling through the end of this song.) My dad told me that he was in a small accident when he was driving with me standing next to him, my arm on his shoulder ,at about 12 months old. I took a bounce off of the dashboard, I did. It sounds so terrible to say that my father did that but back then, they didn’t have car-seats. Heck, they didn’t even have seat belts. My grandfather had what he called, “The Granddaughter’s Seat”...the big arm rest thing that folds down onto the seat. That’s where I rode and it was a treat. Much better than jockeying for position with 5 other kids in the back of that station wagon.
Anyway, I did toss the dog about a bit. I had to do it. I was wondering if he recognized the neighborhood when we were coming home and that reminded me of a dog that we had for a long time named Brownie. My parents had given her and her sister away to the dog pound, I don’t know why but they did. One day a few weeks later, I got a phone call from a crazy old lady who said that she had Brownie and Brownie was pregnant. Somehow Brownie had gotten away from the pound people and this lady found her, with her tags still on her, leading the old woman to call us. She was going to keep the dog until the puppies were born and then she would give the dog back. My mother did eventually go and get Brownie from this lady... and we kept her for the rest of her life. My mom said that the lady was, indeed, nuts...she had a bunch of different animals in her apartment. Looking back, it was nuts to give such fine animals away. Anyway, when my mom got close to home, she said the dog went so nuts with happiness that they had to keep her. I'm glad. That was a very good dog. She makes mine look pretty stupid right now.
Mom and I were both right...that woman was nuts. Mike Royko, a famous Chicago columnist reported on her a few years later in the Chicago Sun-Times. I forget the count but apparently the city of Chicago was forcing her to get rid of some of her numerous animals. But, if it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have gotten Brownie back. We never did get her sister, Peppie back. I was so very sad about that.
Oh well, my dog is fine. He is a little bit too big for the kennel anymore, he can’t stand up in it. The guy who sold it to me told me that there was no way that a boxer would outgrow that thing. He was wrong.
I just noticed that my motion detectors lights detected something and went on...that’s freaky. Now they’re off...I don’t know which is freakier. Oh well, maybe it was just whatever it is that keeps eating my trash. I think it’s a raccoon but what do I know. I’d love to catch whatever it is.
Oh, do you remember that candy that was in wooden apples? What kind of candy was that? Where did it go? And old ladies with bejeweled beetles, did they stop making those? Why did women wear live beetles on themselves? Yuck. Something else you don’t see anymore, racks on the sides of Coke machines for the empties. Also, my electric can-openers used to have a knife sharpener on the back, now they don’t. What’s up with that?
I’m just curious again and I don’t want to eat a bunch of string cheese right now. Oh well, it’s late and I should go to sleep. I’ll see you later.
Meg
Mr. MH...I figured out who you are and yeah, you are lesser.
...I’ve been busy today doing stupid stuff. I took the dog with me and he tried to get in my lap like he did when I would take him for rides a very long time ago...I don’t know why he decided to do it today. I had to slam on the breaks a couple of times to get his attention. He sat like a good dog after I knocked his ass into the dashboard a few times. Of course, I looked like an idiot, slamming on my brakes for no apparent reason. But he stayed off of my lap after I did it. I wonder if someone is gonna read this a hundred years from now and think I am evil for not having my dog in a dog carrier? Wouldn’t that suck? To be judged by today’s standards in another time would be a bitch. Everything keeps changing so you know that the standards will, too.
I remember watching a movie where a drunk “rider” was the subject of pity because the poor soul had killed a little boy while drinking and acting a fool on a horse. (You know, I am stone cold sober and I can’t do that toe to toe thing...try it, it isn’t that easy. I don’t think I could pass a test right now....I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t have to do that maneuver.)
By today’s standards, my parents would be offenders of some sort, of that I am sure. They let me ride on my uncle’s motorcycle...not only without a helmet, but I was sitting in front of him. I must have been 4 at the time. (I have the 70’s music channel on television and they’re playing that song that John Travolta sang, Let Her In. What a bad song that was. I guess they figured the name itself would sell a million records. God, he is howling through the end of this song.) My dad told me that he was in a small accident when he was driving with me standing next to him, my arm on his shoulder ,at about 12 months old. I took a bounce off of the dashboard, I did. It sounds so terrible to say that my father did that but back then, they didn’t have car-seats. Heck, they didn’t even have seat belts. My grandfather had what he called, “The Granddaughter’s Seat”...the big arm rest thing that folds down onto the seat. That’s where I rode and it was a treat. Much better than jockeying for position with 5 other kids in the back of that station wagon.
Anyway, I did toss the dog about a bit. I had to do it. I was wondering if he recognized the neighborhood when we were coming home and that reminded me of a dog that we had for a long time named Brownie. My parents had given her and her sister away to the dog pound, I don’t know why but they did. One day a few weeks later, I got a phone call from a crazy old lady who said that she had Brownie and Brownie was pregnant. Somehow Brownie had gotten away from the pound people and this lady found her, with her tags still on her, leading the old woman to call us. She was going to keep the dog until the puppies were born and then she would give the dog back. My mother did eventually go and get Brownie from this lady... and we kept her for the rest of her life. My mom said that the lady was, indeed, nuts...she had a bunch of different animals in her apartment. Looking back, it was nuts to give such fine animals away. Anyway, when my mom got close to home, she said the dog went so nuts with happiness that they had to keep her. I'm glad. That was a very good dog. She makes mine look pretty stupid right now.
Mom and I were both right...that woman was nuts. Mike Royko, a famous Chicago columnist reported on her a few years later in the Chicago Sun-Times. I forget the count but apparently the city of Chicago was forcing her to get rid of some of her numerous animals. But, if it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have gotten Brownie back. We never did get her sister, Peppie back. I was so very sad about that.
Oh well, my dog is fine. He is a little bit too big for the kennel anymore, he can’t stand up in it. The guy who sold it to me told me that there was no way that a boxer would outgrow that thing. He was wrong.
I just noticed that my motion detectors lights detected something and went on...that’s freaky. Now they’re off...I don’t know which is freakier. Oh well, maybe it was just whatever it is that keeps eating my trash. I think it’s a raccoon but what do I know. I’d love to catch whatever it is.
Oh, do you remember that candy that was in wooden apples? What kind of candy was that? Where did it go? And old ladies with bejeweled beetles, did they stop making those? Why did women wear live beetles on themselves? Yuck. Something else you don’t see anymore, racks on the sides of Coke machines for the empties. Also, my electric can-openers used to have a knife sharpener on the back, now they don’t. What’s up with that?
I’m just curious again and I don’t want to eat a bunch of string cheese right now. Oh well, it’s late and I should go to sleep. I’ll see you later.
Meg
Mr. MH...I figured out who you are and yeah, you are lesser.
posted by Meg Kelso | 8:36 PM
1 Comments:
Are you implying that one should be responsible for their OWN actions? How dreafully 50's of you.
Post a Comment
<< Home