Hit or myth of the Eathter bunny

On Easter, if the Easter bunny sees its shadow, there will be six more weeks of Lent. That is why, after the eggs have been gathered, the traditional Easter feast is fricasée of rabbit. Or it should be. Dessert is hollow chocolate bunny. Being a non-traditionalist, I had sushi.

Write a New State Song

This morning on NPR's Weekend Sunday Edition, there was a story about the need to change the lyrics to Maryland's state song.  The original was written by a Confederate sympathizer and refers to "Northern scum".

With that in mind, and not knowing the official Connecticut State Song, here are the lyrics I have written, to be sung to the tune of "O Tannenbaum" (a.k.a., O Christmas Tree).

Ahem - The (New) Connecticut State Song 

We like it here, 

We like it here, 

O fucking A, we like it here.

Connecticut costs far too much,

And yet it has the common touch.

Where white trash vies with upper crust,

We like it here, 

Connecticut.

Beautiful day, isn't it?

It's a beautiful day with clear skies and temps in the fifties. I looked at my back yard and my compost pile and decided that this was the year I would turn the pile frequently, clear out the weeds that have choked my rose bushes, and get rid of the rogue maple tree that is growing right next to the garage, plotting to undermine the foundation. The garage is in bad shape anyway, and I already have several maple trees, one large one along with a white birch in the front yard.

The peach tree died, choked by a horrible Asiatic vine, a curse worse than kudzu. It runs wild and is unstoppable, except for digging to the roots and removing it. It is an arduous task, and in the past few years, I have not felt up to it, having gone through cancer treatment and still trying to recover my psyche from a layoff in a job that I poured my heart and soul into. Now I feel the desire to work, to clear the yard and uproot weeds and pernicious vines and parasitic trees that attack my car when I back into the driveway. My neighbors on both sides keep their yards in good condition without excess manicuring and I feel that I have neglected my yard past the point of charm that can be established with wildflowers and deliberate neglect for the sake of a forest floor environment.

But I have been inside, listening to music on KCRW, and planning meals. I need to go into the kitchen and make homemade chili, using the rest of the pot of pintos I cooked a few days ago, just like my mother used to make and what we thrived on with rice during our childhood and beyond. I once turned down that plate of rice and beans, and learned a lesson from my father with an Aesop fable about the boy who cried wolf because I said I would eat it and didn't. This was the lie that I was punished for, not the full plate. And then I finished the plate. But the lesson remained.

It is amazing how our earliest experiences shape us into the people we become.

Prelude to an Afternoon of a Cat

You say that you want some more kibble,
And you know that I'm not one to quibble.
But your bowl has some food
And you're just being rude,
I suggest that you get down and nibble.

The Joy of the VA

A little over a year ago, I got the opportunity to enroll in the VA Health Care System. Let me tell you, these guys don’t screw around. They even have two different emergency rooms, one if you have a physical emergency, and the other if you simply flip out. And if you need it, they aren’t stingy with the painkillers. They actually ask you if you are experiencing any pain. I think this is pretty admirable, given that I’ve had post surgical pain before (not at the VA) and one doctor said that he didn’t believe that my pain was that bad. How the hell would he know? This was a gynecological procedure and I seriously doubt that he had any clue at all of what it might feel like. Mind you, he might have been going through a gender change and through some weird osmosis, started feeling all the pain that is unique to womanhood. But I don’t think so.

Let’s get back to the VA. Aside from the excellent care (and no, I’m not kidding about that), there is high entertainment value that you might never expect.
There’s a reason for that. Many VA hospitals are teaching hospitals for some very well regarded medical schools. I won’t name names, but let’s just say that the hospital I use is affiliated with a major ivy league university located in a relatively small New England state, which is also known for having an organization where some heads of state have been affiliated during their college years. The organization sounds like it would be right for a medical school. I won’t say any more. I’ll leave it to your conjecture.

One entertaining encounter I had was with a fledgling oncologist. He checked for new lumps and then noticed that I had a large pink scar on my upper right chest. He asked me what it was. I let him know it was for a port, namely, the device that a surgeon implants so that nasty poisons can be circulated through one’s system. You know, what doesn’t kill you makes you strong. Chemo is pretty nasty shit. But what made it so weird and oddly funny is that oncologists specialize in cancer. I guess I could have said that I had a really ugly tattoo removed, but it was worth it to see his face turn beet red when I explained the origin of the scar.

Of small entertainment value was when I was admitted to the hospital in the morning during rounds, a senior physician would come in, followed by a bevy of fledgling doctors. They were so cute! It was like watching a group of ducklings following the mother duck into my hospital room. Of no entertainment value was the food. It was even worse than the boxed meals we used to get on the flightline during alerts. Definitely gag worthy.

You’re probably wondering why I’ve been telling you all of this. It’s to demonstrate the benefits of having access to your local veterans’ hospital. And now you’re probably wondering, how do I cash in on all this medical goodness? Well, I’m just the person to tell you. Join a branch of the military. It doesn’t matter which these days, because even Air Force personnel are being trained for fodder duty. Speaking for myself, I’d be more impressed with the urgency of the war if Barbara and Jenna joined. Unfortunately, it’s not my decision. But I’ll bet the war would end really fast if they did.

Once you’re in the service, stay alive. It could be dicey, but just keep thinking of the brass ring that is the VA. And avoid the boxed meals at all costs.

Avoiding the LCD of broadcasting

I don’t know about you, but I live in fear of having to watch an interview by Larry King. Recently, a bidding war ensued between ABC and NBC (or was it CBS? Whatever.) for the opportunity of interviewing Paris Hilton after she was released from her incarceration. Now, I don’t know about you, but I would make it a point to take Thorazine before even entering the same room so that I wouldn’t just start screaming after the response to any of the questions. Barbara Walters stated that she would not have tried to get this so-called scoop, because she felt it was beneath her. I’m with you, Barbara. Anyway, there was a very good review of the interview between King and Twit in the New York Times. She claimed that she got religion in her three weeks in the slammer and read the bible every day. When Mr. King asked her what her favorite passage was, she replied, “Uhhhh…”

So, my advice of the day is:

1) If interviewed by Larry King, bear in mind that there is a huge audience of dim witted people who watch this crap. Try to act intelligently.

2) If you make claims like reading the Bible daily, or knowing how to field strip a cigarette, or knowing how to arm a car bomb while creating a porno film for the internet, be ready to prove it. Otherwise, you will look like an idiot, and that’s why we have the White House that we have now.

3) Finally, if you have nothing clever to say, get the hell out. I don’t care what you look like. Remember, looks fade, but stupid is forever.

Oh, and kudos to the NYT for having the ingenuity and social responsibility to have a review of the interview.  It saved me a lot of boredom and allowed me to get the gist of the interview without having to lower my standards by actually watching CNN.  And I got my little sick kink on, knowing what the highlights were without being forced to vomit.

Don't let this happen to you.

I just read a story about a woman that met a man at a wedding reception. Well, that's always fun and sometimes fortuitous. So drinking ensued and they both went back to his place. In the morning, he had to go to work but told her to take her time and just lock up once she was ready to leave.

Okay, here's the bummer part. She went to the bathroom and took a generous dump, and then could not flush the toilet. She ended up picking it up and putting it in a large ziploc bag, and then placing it on the kitchen counter. Unfortunately, once she had all her stuff, she left and locked the door, forgetting about the bag o' poop. She freaked out and then changed her cell phone number.

Now. I don't know how true this is. But if you are in a similar situation, you can do one of two things. You can get a large pot from the kitchen, or a bucket if one can be found, fill it with water, and pour into the toilet. This should make it flush.

Alternatively, you can take the lid off of the tank and see if there is a chain without a coupling (usually to what looks like a small plunger). And then you can try to flush.

Now wasn't that easy? And you don't have to leave a sack of shit on the counter, which might be construed as commentary on the previous night's fun.

zeitgeistbabe