Garage Sale Quickie!

I’ve told this story before in this silly spot but, with all the talk of how to have a successful garage sale on FirstNews Thursday morning, I thought it might be worth a retelling or is that retailing?

For many years my mom put an artificial but pretty white wreath on our front door at Christmas time.  Eventually, after a long run, she decided she wanted something new and different.  In fact, she stated she was sick of that old wreath and would be happy to never see it again!

Each spring the Bionic Avon Lady across the street had a big garage sale.  My mom would usually put a few items out there, as well.  This particular year, the white wreath made the trip to the sale table.  “I don’t want to see it again!” said my mom with increasing vehemence.

Our next door neighbor, Bob, lived in a little cottage with his mother, Dolly.  Well, Bob stopped in at the garage sale and fell in love with…you guessed it…that white wreath.  Apparently, he had admired it all through the years.  So, he bought it.

My mom got the chance to “enjoy” the white wreath for many more Christmases.  I think that was her last garage sale effort, too.

Run To The Sun!

Sometimes folks will send an email to the weather center making a request for a particular type of weather on a specific day.  Along the lines of:

“Our only daughter is getting married…OUTSIDE…on Saturday and we’d like it to be sunny and 75 degrees.  Please!”

and

“I have a trig exam tomorrow and haven’t had the chance to study.  Could we, please, get a snow day?”

and

“My garden looks like Death Valley.  How about a decent shower?”

Of course, that last comment, regarding a “decent shower,” is suggested to me on a regular basis and it has nothing to do with weather.

The other day I got a request for this Sunday’s weather:  “I’d like it to be about 95 degrees with a heat index around 110 at 9:00 in the morning!”

It is understandable that Scott Beck would want that to happen.  He is the director of the 3rd Annual Run To The Sun 5K!  Here are the particulars:

Sunday, July 12 at 9:00 a.m.

Space Center Underground Facility

1500 W. Geospace Drive

Independence,  MO   64056

Go to www.sunshinecenter.org for more information.

Sunshine Center is a marvelous resource for children living with special needs and their families.  It is has been doing important, wonderful work for many years and the Run To The Sun is one fun way to help them get the job done!  (Run. Sun. One. Fun. Done.  Suddenly, I’m Dr. Seuss!)

In the caves of the Space Center, it is always a comfy 70 degrees.  That’s why Mr. Beck wants the steamy stuff…for the contrast!  So, if you want to help lots of terrific kids and teachers and staff at the Sunshine Center, while feeling like Batman on the run, head out on Sunday morning and RUN TO THE SUN!

Please. Practice. Potty. Paradise.

The title of this silliness could actually be an admonishment to a youngster trying to make the move from diaper to dapper.  “Please, practice potty paradise!”  Meaning, “Get thee to a cannery.”  If you’ve ever gone through this process with boys, you also know to add the suggestion that they make sure their aim is true.  To be honest, that bit of advice applies well into the teen years.   My brothers and I were lucky on that score since there was usually the butt of a Kent cigarette floating around.  I won the Battle of Midway on a daily basis.

However, the name of this e-piphany concerns four distinct…not distink…concerns:

PLEASE.  Is it a bad sign that I returned from a week off and one of the first things I did was turn in another vacation request?  “Please, let me have another week?”  Usually, the plea for me to be away comes from management and viewers.   This time, however, we used some of last week to figure out who needed to be where and when in August.  It’s a case of four kids going in about seven different directions.  That’s why I turned in another “Please!” so quickly.  (There’s also a Tournament of Champions on Password, circa 1966, scheduled for Game Show Network for the very week I’m requesting…just a coincidence.  Really.)

PRACTICE.   I do not have a naturally thick beard.  As I mentioned before in this space, my whisker potential is more Helen Hayes than Isaac Hayes.  Despite the fact that my five o’clock shadow is really just peach fuzz on steroids, I do shave everyday when I’m working.  Years ago, I was strongly chastised by a TV make-up consultant for coming into work without shaving.  I explained that I really didn’t think anybody could tell.  She told me I was completely wrong and lazy and impudent!  After looking up the word “impudent,” I was even more hurt.  Anyway, having been threatened by a person wielding a mascara brush and powder puff, I decided I would just shave every morning.  After TV went High Definition, it became even more important.  Apparently, with high def,  even a light beard can make a person look like a Sunday-morning Chester Arthur after a Saturday night poker game. 

When I take a break from TV, I also take a break from the razor.  After about three days, my wife and children start calling the authorities about a vagrant hanging around their house.  That’s when I know I should shave.  My regular method of trimming involves an electric razor.  But, when I have time, I like to use the old razor and cream routine…pretending I’m William Holden heading out for a night on the town.  You wouldn’t think it but, as I discovered again a couple days ago, even something as simple as shaving may require PRACTICE.  Yes, I cut myself.  High on my cheek.  Near my left eye.  Not even an area where I’ve ever had any facial hair.  Why must I walk around with toilet paper on my face?!  Why did I ever loan my favorite styptic pencil to Bela Legosi!?  Why did I just write two full paragraphs on a microscopic abrasion?!

POTTY.  We had a story on Monday’s FirstNews about a new “app” for an I-phone which will tell you when it’s the best time for you to duck out of a movie and head for the restroom.  First of all, I don’t know what an “app” is.  Is it short for application? Or, apple?  Or, in my personal case, ap-athetic?  Also, when it comes time to skip to the loo, shouldn’t you listen to your body?  Make your bladder gladder without the tech-nudge-oly? 

I guess it’s better than getting some sort of cell phone with a catheter-app.  By the way, do these new-fangled contraptions still let you make and receive actual phone calls?

PARADISE.  Another FirstNews story from Monday, named Costa Rica as the happiest place on earth.  The United States came in 114th.   I’ll tell you what would make me happy: 

PLEASE, grant my next vacation request.

Let me throw away my razor so I don’t have to PRACTICE shaving, anymore.

Leave me tech-free in the movie house.  I’ll answer Nature’s Call not Steve Job’s.  It’s my POTTY and I’ll cry if I want to…cry if I want to…cry if I want to.

Those things may just lead to PARADISE!

Movie Moment

The other day one of our sons invited me to see a movie.  The following is a transcript of that conversation:

“Hey, Dad, let’s go see Public Enemies.”

“What?  No, thanks!  Why would anyone sit through a film about a rather disgusting and very personal medical procedure?  Yech!”

“No, Dad, I said Enemies!  Public Enemies!”  Then, under his breath: “You doddering old dolt.”  See, sometimes my hearing is better than other times.

Well, we went to the show.  Actually, this was a movie I was  eager to see for three reasons. 

First of all, I read the book, upon which it is based, several years ago and loved it.  The book covers Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde, Karpis, Machine Gun Kelly, Baby Face Nelson and everybody else, on both sides of the law, in those hurly burly days of the early 1930s.  There are lots of Kansas City references throughout the story, too.  If you are looking for some American History that reads like a novel, go find Public Enemies by Bryan Burrough.  (Okay.  I realize that I’m no Oprah when it comes to book recommendations.  In fact, I can hear the surprise in your gasps that I can read at all.  But, this is a good book.  It’s one of the few I read bits and pieces of over and over again.  Well, this one and Pat the Bunny.)

The second reason I was on board for this trip to the theater has to do with our nephew Kurt.  As mentioned before in this silly cyber space (alliteration is free of charge) Kurt is an actor.  He has appeared, as an extra, in The Dark Knight…he was the guy looking aghast in the bar scene, left-hand side of the screen…and The Express.  He was in the background of a lot of scenes in that one.  In Public Enemies, you have to watch carefully, again, the left side of the screen, as Dillinger and the gang knock over a bank in Racine, Wisconsin.  It comes early in the film.  Kurt is the one looking startled and appearing to yell “Oh, noooooo!”  He does a great job.  In fact, I suspect Johnny Depp may have felt a little in awe of Kurt’s thespian skills.

Finally, that whole era of gangsters and g-men, has interested me since I was a little kid.  My grandparents owned a place in northern Wisconsin called Nick’s Canyon Resort.  My grandpa would talk about seeing well-dressed, unfamiliar faces holing up in the little cabins and cottages.  They weren’t  there to fish.  At one point in the movie, as Dillinger is heading along a tree-lined road after a botched bank robbery, our youngest son turned to me and said “He’s headed for your grandpa’s place!”  I have a picture of my grandparents from that period.  She’s wearing a long fur coat and he’s got on a snappy, cocked-just-right fedora and vest outfit.  They weren’t going to any costume party as a gangster and his moll.  It was just the way they always dressed. 

Frankly, in that faded photo,  they look like extras from Public Enemies.  Maybe that’s why Kurt looked so at home in his scene!  It’s genetic!

Step Up. Step Carefully. Step Out.

Step Up:  Just want to take a moment to step up and say farewell to a giant of broadcasting: Ed McMahon.  I sort of met Mr. McMahon many years ago on the radio.  He was on one line doing an interview and I was on the other waiting to do weather.  As his interview wrapped up, the radio host, Just Plain Dave, asked Mr. McMahon to introduce the weatherman.  Ever affable, he did just that: “Heeeeeerrrrrrreeee’s Joel!”  Although I didn’t get a chance to speak with him directly, it was the best welcome I could imagine. 

I did have the chance to interview Doc Severinsen on after*words many years ago.  He had only the best things to say about Ed McMahon.  Same from another frequent Tonight Show guest, KC’s own singing icon, Marilyn Maye.  Mr. McMahon was a true broadcaster in that he did a little bit of everything and did it all extremely well.  Maybe he can take over from St. Peter for awhile and welcome people at the Pearly Gates with that booming: “HEEEEERRRRREEEE’s  insert name here!”

Step Carefully:  A story on Wednesday morning’s FirstNews said that scientists are studying  a workable way to use cow waste as fuel.  If it really takes off, that would make my home state of Wisconsin sort of like the new Saudi Arabia!  I can just see all the dairy farmers up there wearing expensive robes and building elaborate castles.  Of course, if cow gas had always been the “oil” of our society, it certainly would have changed the entire opening sequence of  The Beverly Hillbillies.

When it comes to meadow muffins, cow pats, pasture patties, bovine buttons, dip chips…whatever you want to call it…I know my, uh, stuff.  Now,  the science of turning these field finds into fuel is beyond me.  If you’ve ever watched my weather-cast, you know that science is not my forte.  But, again, if you’ve ever watched my weather-cast, you know that I do deal in bull from time to time.

I have one concern:  odoriferous autos.  A couple summers ago, one farmer back home was using a liquefied version of cattle turfdaddle (Don’t bother looking that one up…I just coined it.) and it really was stinky.  It didn’t matter which way the wind was blowing, your eyes would water and nose would immediately go on strike.  If the stuff we start pumping is even close to that scent, traffic jams will involve more retching than kvetching.

You’d probably also see the normally placid, easy-going cow becoming more paranoid.  Made nervous by every car stalled on the side of the road.  Fearing the approach of a person carrying a hose. 

Please, take the advice of an experienced cheese-head, if we get to the moo-juice for vehicles stage of things, just step carefully.

Step Out:  As my summer-time gift to you, I will be AWOD  for the next several days.  That’s sort of like AWOL except, in my case, it stands for Absent WithOut Disappointment…on the part of management and viewers.

Have a wonderful and safe Fourth of July!  In fact, as a way to celebrate and commemorate this bloggy:  As you drive by some soon-to-be-even-more-valuable cows, roll down the window and do your best Ed McMahon imitation:  “HI-YO!”